Only in dreams A kisaIta fanfic.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a lava lamp and a bus pass, and the lamp is stolen anyway. I do not own Naruto, believe me, if I did, 4kids would be screwed!

Just to clear up any confusion, this is kind of Kisame's POV but he's sort of talking to Itachi in his head, who he is sharing a room with.

I always wish you wouldn't sleep with your back to me, with the covers pulled right up, so all I see of you is your hair, spilling out over the pillow like a pool of black ink glinting in the delicate light cast by the moon as its skeletal glow crept through the thin veil pulled across our window.

It's been four years now, four years since I first heard your name, since the overwhelming power captivated in your crimson eyes penetrated my head, and my heart.

Four years of sharing a room, and every night has been the same. Every night I have watched you, longing so painfully to reach out to you, to feel your raven hair like silk caressing my fingers, like soft kisses trailing from velvet lips.

Lying here now, I watch you, running my gaze along your beautiful silhouette, covered as it is in those pathetically thin bed sheets.

You groan, shifting slightly in your bed, so that the covers fall back, exposing the back of your neck and shoulders, the pale creamy skin etched silver in the moonlight. In my mind I see myself, running my lips across your warm skin, nipping at it, making you gasp and arch your back. I run my hands along my own skin, my neck, my hips, my legs, all the time feeling your hands instead, stroking me, pressing into my flesh. I feel myself grow hot and tight as I stroke my chest, my stomach, lower and lower...

I gasp as I touch myself, biting my lip to suppress a moan escaping my lips, moving my hand faster and faster, digging my teeth hard into my lips, piercing the flesh. I feel the metallic taste of blood, warm and tangy seeping into my mouth as I pound into my hand, harder and faster, it's not my hand any more. It's you, Itachi, and you're gasping and moaning and crying out my name.

I grit my teeth as I come, the hot milky liquid exploding into my hand. I lie back, warm and sweaty and panting slightly.

My eyes dart over to you, you are still sleeping. I roll over onto my side and watch you, my hand is still wet, and I bring it up to my mouth, licking it clean. I wonder if you taste the same as I take in your figure on the bed, merely metres across the room from mine.

I know I won't sleep, I know if I did I'd just dream of you. I always do. I'd slip into a world where all these feelings, this that makes me gasp and bite my lip, it's not my hand. It couldn't possibly be my hand. My hands are curled into fists, twisting the bed sheets beneath me as you press your body against mine, your hot mouth roving, tongue leaving icy wet trails along my skin as your hands run the length of my torso, digging in your fingertips, making me whimper, making me beg for more.

So you give it to me. You are inside of me, pounding into me, striking that spot that makes me arch my back and cry out, hitting it over and over. The pain and pleasure so intense that I have to clamp my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming, blissful to the point of being unbearable, the pressure builds up and up faster and faster until a sudden rush and an explosion from both of us that makes my body shudder.

You collapse on top of me and we are engulfed in each other. I wrap my arms around your waist and feel your warm hands resting gently on my chest, as you look up at me with those glinting ruby eyes that captured my heart so long ago. You push yourself up and kiss me softly and I respond, pushing my tongue into your mouth, and licking you, tasting every part of your mouth.

And that's how we stay, for the whole night, just together, you and me.

And then I wake up. I wake up and have to face the harsh reality that I will never truly experience that glorious feeling, the feeling of being with you, being one with you. I have to go out and take missions, and train and talk and fight with you, all the while haunted by the memories of those nights, when I can kiss you and love you, and be proud that I do. And that truly is torture.

So instead of dreaming, I lie awake, watching you, wishing you were mine, but knowing it will never be real. Just content to be this close.

I watch as the sun comes up, replacing the eerie silver glow of the moon with a warm golden light, filtering through the curtains, tipping the edges of your hair in a fine gold.

You start to stir. I know you are awake now. I silently, quickly, throwing the thin sheet over my head, pretending I am asleep.

Watching through these pathetically thin sheets I watch as you sit up, the bed clothes falling away from your upper body, revealing you pearly skin, contrasting with your raven hair as it falls gracefully around your face, a face so stunning it makes my heart ache with longing.

You push back the covers and stand up in your shorts. Stretching you reach your arms up, curving your toned back as your shorts lift up a little, revealing more of your toned creamy thighs. You turn your back on me as you walk to the closet in our room. You take off your shorts.

I feel my heart quicken as you stand bare before me, more beautiful than any dream. How I want you, you make me want to cry, so oblivious to how much I love you, how much I have always loved you. What I want to do to you. A familiar tight tingling sensation wells up between my legs, and I have to squeeze them tight together to try and hold it off.

You're half dressed now, but as you turn round, I still see the toned rippling muscles on your stomach, your skin glistening a pale gold in the morning light.

I clench my legs tighter, it hurts, I want to touch - No. I want you to touch me, I want so badly to feel your hands slide along me, your mouth, your tongue, hot and wet, caressing, sucking me.

I bite back a hiss as it twinges again.

I can't stand this, this is ridiculous, I have to do something.

I start to shift around, making groaning noises, pretending to wake up. I sit up and rub my eyes, ensuring my waist down is totally covered.

"Good morning Kisame san" you say in your soft, chilling voice. My name falling like velvet from your lips.

"Morning Itachi." I say, yawning, painfully trying to ignore the throbbing between my legs.

Putting on your jacket, you walk to the door. "I'm going out; I'll be back before noon."

"Kay! See you then." I say as you slam the door. You always went out first thing in the morning, and you were never back till well past noon.

I lie back and take care of my 'little' problem. But it doesn't feel right, and I know why. It feels empty and I know what's missing.

A stunning young man with inky black hair and entrancing scarlet eyes. You. Itachi, I need you. So badly, it hurts.

I sit up in bed; I can more or less see how the rest of the day will work out. The day will pass pretty normally, until at some point, usually around mid afternoon, you'll ask me, boredly, how I got the cuts on my lips. I'll casually say that I probably bit them in my sleep, it's natural for shark men, I'll say. I have to. What am I supposed to say? "Oh it's nothing, I just bit them while trying to keep quiet while fantasising about sleeping with you. While you were asleep in the same room!" No. I'll just make my excuses and change the subject.

Then we'll fall into comfortable silence and I'll return to my dreams and feel thoroughly miserable for the rest of the day until I crawl back into my bed. Then the dreams return and the whole cycle stars all over again, leaving me confused and lonely, with my heart slowly breaking as I realise it will never be real.

But I don't care. I like it.

It's worth a lifetime of misery during the day, just for a few minutes every night with you, the man I love with all my heart. Whom I've always loved. Even if it will only ever be in my dreams.

I manage a small sad smile as I swing my legs round so I'm sitting on the edge of my bed. I'm definitely going to need new shorts to sleep in, these are wrecked. I stretch and dress, making my way hurriedly to the other rooms. Anxious to get this day over with, because, the sooner the day ends, the sooner the night creeps in, the sooner I can get back to bed, and we can be back together again, back to my dreams, back to you, my beautiful Itachi...

Good Lord that looked so much shorter on paper!

Well, there we go, my FIRST EVER FANFIC!!! YAY!!! Please tell me what you think, good, bad anything, I'd just love to get some opinions on this, and I think my friends and family would freak if I asked them! I wanted to try a weird angle to write from and I also apologise for any OOCness on Kisa's part, he's being romantic.

Oh and one more thing, please don't message me saying "Do you know nothing!? Kisame's dream was so unrealistic, you can't have him in him in 'seconds'! there's preparation, you need lube, he has to-" I KNOW!!! It was a dream! Come on! But other than that, sock it to me!

Thank you!