My first Uchihacest fic
Hi all,
I've been lurking and commenting for a while, but hadn't posted anything yet...until now. *runs away shyly.* This is actually my first fic for the Naruto fandom, though I've written for Bleach in the past. I've seen a lot of talent here, so I hope this is satisfactory.
With no further ado:
Title: "Just Like You Imagined"
Pairing: ItaSasu
Genre: Angsty smutty one-shot
Rating: NC-17
Words: 960
Disclaimer: All your Uchiha are belong to Kishimoto.
Warnings: La la la...yaoi, incest, non-con, bdsm, and other such delicious unpleasantries.
Sasuke came to awareness on a rigid futon in a dark room. He was naked, covered only by rough sheets that irritated the fresh wounds that scored his body. He could not move his arms. Were they broken? Slowly his surroundings clicked into place, and his stomach churned from the horrific irony of the scene. Beside him lay his brother, apparently sleeping soundly, a twisted mirror of a lost past when they had lain together like this without fear.
How had it come to this?
It came back to him, bitterly. He had snuck out of Sound, believing himself finally powerful enough to accomplish his task. The ease of his escape had seemed to confirm that. But, face to face with his brother once again, he had crumbled. Still, Itachi must have recognized an inkling of worth in Sasuke this time, for he had brought the beaten, barely conscious younger boy back with him to this unknown place.
Everything about this was a lie. Itachi was not asleep. Surely he knew Sasuke was not asleep either.
An hour crawled by.
Sasuke felt something brush the small of his back, and snapped open his eyes, sharingan activated. But Itachi was only turning in his feigned sleep, his body now facing Sasuke, eyes still closed in perfect imitation of peace.
What a stupid game. Does he think I’m an idiot? Sasuke inched over away from his brother, though his legs felt heavier than lead. A few minutes later he felt it again, distinctly: the barely-there glide of nails across his skin. He sat up quickly and froze to find a kunai at his throat. The nails stopped their feathery trail and gradually increased their pressure until Sasuke felt skin break. “Having trouble sleeping, little brother?”
“Why did you bring me here?” Sasuke growled, his words scratching uncomfortably in his throat. His arms were still useless, and moving his legs took extraordinary effort, but they weren’t broken, he was sure of it. Was it a drug? Or some sort of jutsu?
“What did you do to me?” he demanded.
“Nothing yet,” replied Itachi, raking painted nails down his brother’s back.
“I can’t move, you bastard!”
“Don’t blame me for your weakness,” Itachi said, sheathing the kunai. “I know your intentions. It’s not my fault you’re incapable of executing them.”
“My intentions?” retorted Sasuke. “You think I’m a coward who would kill you in your sleep? Just because you’ve forgotten what honor is doesn’t mean I have. I will defeat you in fair combat.”
Itachi said nothing.
“Give me back my clothes and release me, or you’ll regret it.”
“Your clothes are in shreds, Sasuke," his brother sighed. He fingered one of the small gashes on Sasuke’s abdomen, which began to bleed. “Although, they certainly didn’t cover very much to begin with. I suppose we have Orochimaru to thank for that charming getup.” His hand moved up to circle the younger boy’s nipple.
“Don’t touch me,” Sasuke snapped, straining against his invisible bonds. Itachi leaned over Sasuke’s body, closing in until all the young Uchiha could see were those crimson eyes boring into his core. He swallowed, feeling Itachi’s hand between his legs. He wanted to spit in his brother’s face, but his mouth had gone completely dry. Desperation and harrowing memory pounded in his head. “I said don’t touch me, nii-san!”
Something in Itachi’s face changed, almost imperceptibly. “So you still think of me as a brother.”
Sasuke’s eyes blazed. “I think of you as a traitor.”
Itachi’s glimmered back. “You never did stop following in my footsteps.” His calloused fingers closed around Sasuke’s rapidly hardening member.
Hatred, Sasuke reminded himself as Itachi’s skillful strokes teased him erect. That’s what this is about. Strengthening my hatred. But hate was no match for pleasure. Try as he might, he could not prevent a faint moan from escaping his lips as Itachi’s other hand probed that sensitive place deep within him.
Itachi chuckled, a sound so low and dark it could scarcely be called laughter. “You’ve changed since we last saw each other, otouto,” he said, pausing to free his own bulging erection from the tight black pants he still wore. “It’s a pity you have come to me already broken,” he said, thrusting into Sasuke with neither warning nor mercy. “I imagine you’re quite used to this.” Sasuke winced, more from the shameful truth of Itachi’s words than from the pain. “And yet, for everything that snake did to you, you got nothing in return. For you still can’t defeat me.”
Sasuke clung desperately to the shreds of pride he still retained as Itachi fucked him hard. He would not let himself cry his brother’s name, and yet he felt it rising in his gasping throat. “Please…don’t…please,” he heard himself begging, “please don’t stop.” As he spilled over Itachi’s hand, he felt his whole being - his hatred, his purpose, his will - coursing out of his body, until he was an empty, cracked shell of a child. A moment later, Itachi’s wet heat was flooding him. Sasuke did not look up.
Then, softly, he felt Itachi kiss his cheek.
That silent acknowledgement was unlike anything Sasuke had known since childhood. He would have forgotten tenderness completely had he not relived that shattered past in countless dreams, haunted nightly by the sweet and crushing echo of his brother’s touch. Just like those dreams, he thought, staring at the figure beside him.
Itachi smiled a chillingly innocent smile. “Foolish little brother,” he said. “You’re dreaming as we speak.”
Sasuke blinked as his brother’s face dissolved into awakening. “Nii-san -- !” he cried, grasping at the splintering image.
But he was alone. His sheets were soaked, and he saw blood under his nails where they had dug into his own flesh.
x-posted too.
I've been lurking and commenting for a while, but hadn't posted anything yet...until now. *runs away shyly.* This is actually my first fic for the Naruto fandom, though I've written for Bleach in the past. I've seen a lot of talent here, so I hope this is satisfactory.
With no further ado:
Title: "Just Like You Imagined"
Pairing: ItaSasu
Genre: Angsty smutty one-shot
Rating: NC-17
Words: 960
Disclaimer: All your Uchiha are belong to Kishimoto.
Warnings: La la la...yaoi, incest, non-con, bdsm, and other such delicious unpleasantries.
Sasuke came to awareness on a rigid futon in a dark room. He was naked, covered only by rough sheets that irritated the fresh wounds that scored his body. He could not move his arms. Were they broken? Slowly his surroundings clicked into place, and his stomach churned from the horrific irony of the scene. Beside him lay his brother, apparently sleeping soundly, a twisted mirror of a lost past when they had lain together like this without fear.
How had it come to this?
It came back to him, bitterly. He had snuck out of Sound, believing himself finally powerful enough to accomplish his task. The ease of his escape had seemed to confirm that. But, face to face with his brother once again, he had crumbled. Still, Itachi must have recognized an inkling of worth in Sasuke this time, for he had brought the beaten, barely conscious younger boy back with him to this unknown place.
Everything about this was a lie. Itachi was not asleep. Surely he knew Sasuke was not asleep either.
An hour crawled by.
Sasuke felt something brush the small of his back, and snapped open his eyes, sharingan activated. But Itachi was only turning in his feigned sleep, his body now facing Sasuke, eyes still closed in perfect imitation of peace.
What a stupid game. Does he think I’m an idiot? Sasuke inched over away from his brother, though his legs felt heavier than lead. A few minutes later he felt it again, distinctly: the barely-there glide of nails across his skin. He sat up quickly and froze to find a kunai at his throat. The nails stopped their feathery trail and gradually increased their pressure until Sasuke felt skin break. “Having trouble sleeping, little brother?”
“Why did you bring me here?” Sasuke growled, his words scratching uncomfortably in his throat. His arms were still useless, and moving his legs took extraordinary effort, but they weren’t broken, he was sure of it. Was it a drug? Or some sort of jutsu?
“What did you do to me?” he demanded.
“Nothing yet,” replied Itachi, raking painted nails down his brother’s back.
“I can’t move, you bastard!”
“Don’t blame me for your weakness,” Itachi said, sheathing the kunai. “I know your intentions. It’s not my fault you’re incapable of executing them.”
“My intentions?” retorted Sasuke. “You think I’m a coward who would kill you in your sleep? Just because you’ve forgotten what honor is doesn’t mean I have. I will defeat you in fair combat.”
Itachi said nothing.
“Give me back my clothes and release me, or you’ll regret it.”
“Your clothes are in shreds, Sasuke," his brother sighed. He fingered one of the small gashes on Sasuke’s abdomen, which began to bleed. “Although, they certainly didn’t cover very much to begin with. I suppose we have Orochimaru to thank for that charming getup.” His hand moved up to circle the younger boy’s nipple.
“Don’t touch me,” Sasuke snapped, straining against his invisible bonds. Itachi leaned over Sasuke’s body, closing in until all the young Uchiha could see were those crimson eyes boring into his core. He swallowed, feeling Itachi’s hand between his legs. He wanted to spit in his brother’s face, but his mouth had gone completely dry. Desperation and harrowing memory pounded in his head. “I said don’t touch me, nii-san!”
Something in Itachi’s face changed, almost imperceptibly. “So you still think of me as a brother.”
Sasuke’s eyes blazed. “I think of you as a traitor.”
Itachi’s glimmered back. “You never did stop following in my footsteps.” His calloused fingers closed around Sasuke’s rapidly hardening member.
Hatred, Sasuke reminded himself as Itachi’s skillful strokes teased him erect. That’s what this is about. Strengthening my hatred. But hate was no match for pleasure. Try as he might, he could not prevent a faint moan from escaping his lips as Itachi’s other hand probed that sensitive place deep within him.
Itachi chuckled, a sound so low and dark it could scarcely be called laughter. “You’ve changed since we last saw each other, otouto,” he said, pausing to free his own bulging erection from the tight black pants he still wore. “It’s a pity you have come to me already broken,” he said, thrusting into Sasuke with neither warning nor mercy. “I imagine you’re quite used to this.” Sasuke winced, more from the shameful truth of Itachi’s words than from the pain. “And yet, for everything that snake did to you, you got nothing in return. For you still can’t defeat me.”
Sasuke clung desperately to the shreds of pride he still retained as Itachi fucked him hard. He would not let himself cry his brother’s name, and yet he felt it rising in his gasping throat. “Please…don’t…please,” he heard himself begging, “please don’t stop.” As he spilled over Itachi’s hand, he felt his whole being - his hatred, his purpose, his will - coursing out of his body, until he was an empty, cracked shell of a child. A moment later, Itachi’s wet heat was flooding him. Sasuke did not look up.
Then, softly, he felt Itachi kiss his cheek.
That silent acknowledgement was unlike anything Sasuke had known since childhood. He would have forgotten tenderness completely had he not relived that shattered past in countless dreams, haunted nightly by the sweet and crushing echo of his brother’s touch. Just like those dreams, he thought, staring at the figure beside him.
Itachi smiled a chillingly innocent smile. “Foolish little brother,” he said. “You’re dreaming as we speak.”
Sasuke blinked as his brother’s face dissolved into awakening. “Nii-san -- !” he cried, grasping at the splintering image.
But he was alone. His sheets were soaked, and he saw blood under his nails where they had dug into his own flesh.
x-posted too.