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: ladyfiction
: Haru
: (aka _ aka )
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AN:
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Title: Lust's Desires
Pairing: (one-sided, but not really) KisaIta
Rating: T (futuristic sex implications)
Authoress: ladyfiction
Summary: Kisame thinks that Itachi will only ever be beautiful when he's crying. A smile, nonetheless, turns him on just as much.
AN/Warnings: That has to be the shittiest summary I've ever written. Srsly.
Disclaimer: Nothing.
FFN:
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3931585/1/
Ive had a million and one KisaIta ideas running through my mind, but I do not feel good enough right now to write them all out.
Plus, Itachi is a bitch to work with. I do not know how Kisame puts up with the prick.
Ill write more, eventually theyre becoming addictive. I still stand by my, I hate Uchihas, though. Its all about Kisame.
20 minute drabble dont expect much. It took me that long just to name this thing.
Disclaimer: Nothing.
-=Lusts Desires=-
The way the enemy's blood splattered on his face it almost looked as though Itachi was crying. Were those bloody tears, lamenting the past? Did the prodigy Uchiha, in that one moment, have a conscience?
The answer was no.
Kisame knew better than that.
Itachi slashed another enemy with his kunai; the crimson tainted the air just as much as it stained the ground. No sooner did a jounin lunge was he killed. Itachi was ruthless in the darkness. But the shadows hid his cruelty the only realization of it echoed in the agonized grunts of the dying process.
Kisame only once made eye contact with Itachi; he dared not, in the heat of battle. The red eyes were swirling fiercely; there was something wild about the black pupil, spinning and luring the enemies to their swift deaths. But Itachi's face was always calm, a porcelain mask as thick as steel.
And yet, only briefly, did Kisame wonder...
But he had no idea what to think.
He fought hard beside the clan-slayer, grinned from the adrenaline of battle, and slaughtered just as many shinobi. For a split second no sooner did he blink the image away was the thought gone as well but for that lapse, that one instance, Kisame thought that Itachi was beautiful.
He was handsome but staring at the same, impassive face, dark eyes, tightened mouth, day after day...
Itachi would only be truly beautiful when he was crying.
Those bloody tears were a start.
They were fake, but really there.
They embellished the stoic visage, added radiance to the pale complexion and gave Itachi all of the life he stole.
Kisame was not searching for emotions, deep and buried inside Itachi's chest, but he did want to claw at the skin, as if he wanted to get in and search. There was only one entrance for him, though. He did not want to console Itachi; he knew not how anyway this was physical attraction.
Besides, he wanted to life long enough to see Itachi cry. But first, their battle had to end. Samehada was drenched in blood, constantly sucking away life and chakra. His sword craved more. The taste of power and death, mixing and swirling, was overwhelming. Just as his blade smashed the skull in of the last pathetic attempt at an offensive assault, the moon broke free from the clouds. The dark navy sky shone with twinkling specs, enough to capture their attentions.
Kisame was the first to dismiss the night; he turned to Itachi instead, since it was finally safe to gaze upon his partner. The acknowledgement, however, was not immediately returned. Itachi lingered in the light, a few moments longer, enthralled by the pristine color that, nonetheless, heightened their massacre on the ground.
Itachi looked even lighter; there was an ethereal glow to his countenance, washing out. The blood on his face was beautiful, a bright red, marring hue; nevertheless, the visage itself was still the same, handsome but nothing else. The smears were still scarlet, but the streaks no longer resembled tear traces. It was different, but it had lost its momentary captivating effect.
Kisame let out an impatient sigh, a signal of his approaching, as he stepped around the carcasses and through the entrails.
''Shall we...''
The shark, however, was unable to finish. Itachi looked at him, a sudden smile, genuine, dark, and morbid, curled into his lips.
It may not have been tears but Kisame still found it beautiful.
Shall we leave, suddenly became, in a deep, husky voice, ''Can we go somewhere?''
-=EndE=-
Sorry that I let the end a little one-sided. In my mind, they go off and have forest sex, but Im still too rusty for smut. Forgive the essay and Ill write more; theyll even get better too, I promise.
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