Second and final installment. This one took me roughly 3 rewrites, but I still think I failed to capture what I had meant to. The ending pisses me off to no end, so if you can provide any critique on that, it'd be appreciated immensely.
Warnings: Sex between brothers.
Sacrifice
Passion rules him. Passion rues him. Sasuke contemplates his many possibilities, but one stands coldly, starkly, brilliantly in his mind. He can see it, plainly, and maybe he always saw it. Maybe it has existed beside the ideas of death and revenge (maybe it was the only one that truly existed). He can feel it steal over him like a numbing poison. Itachi notices the difference. His lips work furiously around Sasuke's name, even going so far as to begin an ancient prayer.
Sasuke is dumb to all this as the notion spreads and forms. He rubs his hands on his knees, feeling the heated friction. Itachi remains cold and dead on the other side of the room. The caprice finally controls him, but it is ultimately his control and he is superior and, dear brother, how dearly will you pay?
Is this how I should make you pay?
Maybe. Maybe…
…Maybe…
Sasuke, as a child, was never very good with choosing (he could prefer, but never choose). He had this terrible tendency to over think things until they became useless to his present state. Now, again, he finds himself in that indeterminable, indefinable limbo. There is always that hesitance that stops him—the reason he fought Naruto before he left for Sound, the reason he tried to leave Akatsuki. His fingers and palms and hands work furiously on his knees. He can feel his skin prickle with the heat and Itachi's lips have stilled. He notices his own are repeating his brother's name.
Finally, finding the purchase of destiny (because maybe this is meant to be, some higher force has ordained these thoughts, these actions, these circumstances), he calls Itachi over. Itachi raises his self slowly, almost painfully, and Sasuke can see the pull on the wounds, some opening and spilling blood in soft rivulets on the torn skin. Sasuke contemplates repairing his brother—showing him his strength, but a part of him advises against it. In revenge, there is no mercy (even if his hands pause momentarily and his legs tense to rise).
Itachi towers over him and Sasuke notices he doesn't smell as much like death as he had suspected. Rather, his brother smells like the forest he had trained in and the blood that stains both their souls. Sasuke finds it unnervingly arousing when a cut on Itachi's jaw oozes blood down the white column of neck. Rising, Sasuke's hot tongue presses on the cold flesh, wiping the mortal trail clean. He can feel Itachi shiver, but reasons that it is because of the sensation (the pleasurable sensation) and fails to see the fingers clench towards, but never execute, a fist. His teeth brush against the carotid artery and Sasuke can feel the pulse through his teeth. "Itachi" he murmurs and practically breathes in his brother. No response meets his admonition, but what does he expect? Itachi is a puppet—his puppet, and really, what more did he want?
A lot more, but he is being selfish and, honestly, he doesn't care. (or maybe he does and that's why he pauses, millimeters from the corner of Itachi's lips). He captures those tempting muscles and slicks them with his saliva (and moans so wantonly that he can feel Itachi recourse with the vibrations). He begins to tear at the tender flesh, drawing more bright blood and painting it across the owner's teeth and tongue and cheeks (and he takes some of the mortality for himself and coats his cavern well, relishing the indistinguishableness of them both). He finally releases his brother who staggers momentarily before his dead eyes refocus on the bright ones of Sasuke. 'Please' he mouths and the blood creates new patterns with the movement. Sasuke is fascinated and dives in, hungrily, for another kiss.
His fingers work on Itachi's tattered garments, pulling at the pre-existing tears. Soon the ripped fabric is pooled around Itachi's feet. His hands turn to his own clothing and, in moments, both are nude. Sasuke is no longer satisfied with the kiss and pushes Itachi onto the bed. The elder cannot catch himself and slips off the bed and onto his shoulder. Sasuke, aggravated and frustrated, barks: "get on the bed."
Itachi rights himself, his fingernails dragging a little too harshly on the stone floor. He clambers into the bed and Sasuke maneuvers him to be above him, arms on either side of Sasuke's head. Some of Sasuke's hair is caught beneath Itachi's left hand and the younger can feel the fingers work slightly on the locks. Sasuke reaches up and presses a finger into the cleft of Itachi's ass. He can feel the slight heaviness of post mortem and the coolness there is sweating. Rather than being repulsed, Sasuke can hardly contain his self. He can see the fear fret in Itachi's eyes as Sasuke's finger finds the pucker hole.
"Tense up." Sasuke demands as his finger darts in. He sees the silent moan of pain and the brilliant sheen of tears on Itachi's warm (dead) eyes. He relishes the feel, but feels the hunger possessing him more strongly. He adds another finger, scissoring, and the sensation is causing him to see stars in the corners of his vision. The humiliation in Itachi's features is so arousing that Sasuke finds himself kissing away the few stray tears.
"Harder." He commands and feels the muscles work to close on his fingers. He presses out against the unforgiving walls, feeling the dryness and reluctance of the entire canal. He senses, somehow, that just this is enough, but the caprice clamors into his lungs and, huskily, he says: "Turn over."
Withdrawing his digits, Sasuke lets Itachi get himself below his baby brother. His thoughts are a rush of 'fuck him, fuckhim, fuckhim' and without much position on either's part, Sasuke pushes in hard and fast and unrelenting. The muscles are so tight, Sasuke is brought to tears. His brother's body is so beautiful (so scarred, so ravaged) that his hands paw him with a possessive nature. This body is his (they are, indeed, brothers), he owns this body (the one just like his), and he abuses this body (the correlation continues on into forever). Sasuke finally climaxes, the rush of orgasm and arousal leaving him wasted. As he settles on the cool stomach and between the freezing thighs, he begins to feel Itachi's shuddering. He also notices his brother is flaccid—Itachi had never gotten hard—and he also realizes the source of shuddering is from sobbing.
"I didn't give you permission to cry" Sasuke scolds, half-heartedly, mournfully, and in a refreshing (horrifying) retrospect. Itachi murmurs Sasuke's name, and twitches his hand to brush his baby brother's limp forearm. There is warmth in the fingers as they trail the muscle.
Before Sasuke can totally assess his crime, his revenge, his divine circumstance, Itachi disappears from below him. Itachi wakes up in a cold coffin, his soul trapped much like before within a puppet of a body. Yet, now, he knows his controller is Kabuto. He can also hear the shinigami with whom he had made the deal to help Sasuke, asking "did you provide your brother the closure? Did you change his mind from revenge?"
"I tried." Itachi admits, mentally, and weeps bitterly in that corner of his mind he is forced to live until the end of his days.
Second and final installment. This one took me roughly 3 rewrites, but I still think I failed to capture what I had meant to. The ending pisses me off to no end, so if you can provide any critique on that, it'd be appreciated immensely.