Work Text:
I'd roll out of bed
Say 'bout 2:30 mid day
Hit the blunt then, hit you up to come over to my place
You show up right away
We make love then and then we fuck
And then you'd give me my space
Bed Peace
The soft morning sun streams in through billowing semi-sheer curtains. A light breeze filters in through the cracked screen window and a family or robins, or maybe cardinals, chirp from their perch on the branches of the mature oak tree outside of Itachi’s window. Humid spring fills his room, most likely bringing with it pollen that will make his allergies flare up later. It will most likely result in Shisui lightly scolding him about sleeping with the bedroom window open, but will smile and get him the allergy medicine from the upper left cabinet from the stovetop nonetheless.
Itachi snuggles deeper into his bamboo sheets and handmade quilt passed down from his grandmother (allegedly), content to wallow in the soft confines of his bed just a little longer. Out of all the days in the week, Itachi loves Saturdays the most. Despite everyone—mainly his father and younger brother—perceiving him as some kind of over-achieving workaholic, it could not be further from the truth.
No, Itachi likes to use work as an excuse to not attend family functions where he will have to talk about his average job and be compared to other high achieving relatives by other relatives he doesn’t really like that much. Or constantly get nagged about, whatever , by his mother and father. Or, worst of all, endure his bored relatives prying into his love life. Despite not actually having to work, Itachi never hesitates to use it as an excuse to lay around at home where no one is telling him to trim his hair or introduce potential love interests.
So when extended an invite to today’s Saturday family luncheon, Itachi politely provided his usual excuse that he worked super late the night before and might have to go into work today. They are working on a pretty big project, after all (they’re not). And in his absence everyone will no doubt talk about how dedicated Itachi is to his work while he is actually lounging around his apartment.
Except Sasuke, that is. Itachi is starting to think that his little brother might be onto him.
Leisurely rolling over to his nightstand—littered with books, an iPad and Apple Pencil, a bic lighter, a glass of water, and several silky scrunchies his cousin Izumi continues to give him despite how they always fall out of his hair when he thrashes in his sleep—Itachi checks the time on his phone. 11:42am. Eh, he’d be late to the family luncheon anyway, looks like he is skipping it (again).
A small grumble from his stomach prompts him to roll out of bed, stretch with a big yawn, and throw on an oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants Shisui must have forgotten at some point. Looks like they’re Itachi’s now.
There’s no better way to start a morning, well, midday, than by making a mug of hot jasmine tea, lighting up a blunt, and shooting Shisui a text telling him to come over and bring food. The silence of his apartment is comfortable. He takes some time to just sit at his cracked window in the bedroom, sipping tea and smoking, enjoying quiet solitude, before deciding to take a small rest (nap) until Shisui shows up. Shisui has a key, so Itachi is content to continue wallowing in the warmth of his ever comfortable bed.
The quickest of dozes later and the scent of pho filling the apartment stirs a groggy Itachi again. Padding into the kitchen of his small apartment, Itachi is greeted with the sight of Shisui, as attractive as always with his windswept, curly hair, sinful smile, and matching dark sweats that somehow manages to show off his body despite being loose and comfy. It’s a nice sight, having someone so attractive in his kitchen heating up takeout pho broth on the stove, one that Itachi takes a moment to observe in silence before Shisui notices him leaning against the doorframe.
“Morning sunshine! Clearly you’ve been working hard,” Shisui jokes, shooting Itachi a cheeky wink that makes his heart flutter just a little. Yawning and scratching the back of his bedhead, Itachi moves into the kitchen to snuggle into Shisui’s back, arms moving to wrap around his waist. A snort escapes Shisui, who continues to stir the broth, “Or hardly working.”
“Hilarious,” Itachi mutters between Shisui’s shoulder blades, earning another playful snort from the man in his arms.
“You do look nice this morning,” Shisui remarks, changing the subject.
Itachi hums into his back, “Because I’m wearing your clothes?”
Shisui pauses for a moment, “Hm… probably. Food’s almost ready, get some bowls.” With one last squeeze to Shisui’s middle, Itachi slinks off to gather a pair of bowls and silverware.
It’s nice, sitting at his bartop next to his lover, flirting over takeout from the best pho spot in town (including some lighthearted bickering over which local spot is the best pho spot in town), and just spending a lazy Saturday doing nothing in particular.
“So despite what you told your parents, I’m assuming you got done with your ‘massive, all-consuming’ work project ages ago,” Shisui teases, playing with a strand of Itachi’s loose hair.
“Yeah,” Itachi answers between bites, “the work I was doing for the botanic gardens has been done since last Monday. Mostly just working on tweaking the designs before I present them next week.”
“You’re so talented,” Shisui croons, looking at Itachi with stars in his eyes. “You should show me your art more. You should draw me!”
Itachi rolls his eyes. “The one request artists hate getting.” His tone is playful though. It’s pretty impossible for Itachi to be annoyed with Shisui. It’s also funny to Itachi as he has more sketches of Shisui than he can count. “Plus, I work as a graphic designer. It’s different.”
“Maybe, but I know you can draw really well. C’mon, even if you don’t draw me , at least draw something for me? It’s been so long since you’ve given me anything of yours.” The smile Shisui gives him is so warm that Itachi almost melts.
“Maybe I’m embarrassed?” Itachi says, without conviction.
“No, just bashful,” Shisui nuzzles into his cheek.
“I don’t give out my mediocre art to just anyone.” Itachi brings his chopsticks full of rice noodles to his lips, slurping them down.
“I’m not just anyone, though, am I?” Shisui nuzzles more into Itachi’s cheeks and neck, making him feel all warm and fuzzy and it’s not from the pho. The increasingly wet kisses Shisui begins to leave on his neck start to turn Itachi on, as they always do, making his body go from warm to sufficiently toasty.
Tilting his head to the side, Itachi all but abandons his food, instead opting to allow Shisui more access to his sensitive neck. He can feel Shisui’s smug smile against his skin, but it feels so nice he can’t be bothered to comment on it.
A particularly enthusiastic suck at the spot just under Itachi’s ear has a low, soft mewl escaping his barely-parted lips. The spot tingles under the assault from Shisui’s lips and tongue and teeth. A strong arm rests on Itachi’s shoulders, a hand tangling in his messy locks. The slightest tug draws another moan from Itachi. Shisui’s smile only grows with every noise.
“Itachi…” Shisui practically sings into his skin, the vibrations sending a pleasurable jolt down Itachi’s spine.
“Hm?” Itachi manages to respond, mind slowly becoming nothing more than pleasure-induced mush.
“Are you finished?” Shisui pulls away, earning a disgruntled, needy sound from Itachi. Their eyes briefly glance at Itachi’s half-eaten pho, sitting forgotten on the bartop.
“Eh…” Itachi responds passively, moving to sit sideways in his seat, arms resting around Shisui’s neck. A hazy smile grows on Itachi’s lips. “Yeah. Let’s make love. Let’s fuck.”
A dark eyebrow cocks in mild amusement at Itachi’s suggestion, pausing to take him in for a moment before moving in to give Itachi’s lips a quick peck. “I mean, I can’t exactly say no to that… but here?” Their lips meet for another painfully short kiss.
“Anywhere,” Itachi replies, pulling Shisui to him to deepen the kisses. They quickly turn sloppy. Lips part and tongues play with one another, the pace still lazy, easy, clouding Itachi’s mind. His fingers tangle in Shisui’s always wild hair, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. It’s one of Shisui’s especially sensitive spots. It isn’t surprising when Shisui groans deeply at a small tug of the soft hair.
Itachi’s tongue moves to trace the back of Shisui’s teeth, another spot he knows he is particularly fond of. Sure enough—
“Goddammit, Itachi…” is muttered into Itachi’s mouth. Shisui nibbles at Itachi’s lower lip, pulling a little, sending another spark of pleasure through Itachi’s body. He can feel his cheeks flush as Shisui’s hands move down his body in slow, teasing caresses. They settle at Itachi’s waist, playing with the fabric of the oversized sweatshirt.
“Aren’t you getting a little warm?” Shisui asks, voice low and raspy.
“I thought you liked how I look in your clothes,” Itachi quips back, moving to lick at Shisui’s jaw, tracing the sharp contour.
“I like them better on the floor,” Shisui’s mischievous smile filters through his voice, which cracks a little when Itachi decides to suck hard on the skin just under his jaw. “Fuck—”
Leaning back, Itachi takes in his lover’s increasingly disheveled appearance. Yes, he wants Shisui. He wants him bad . He wants him now. All of the heat in Itachi’s body begins pooling in his cock. It’s hard to not be aroused at the sight of Shisui’s tangled hair, kiss-swollen lips, and equally flushed cheeks. There’s a small purple love bite on the underside of his jaw. The sight makes Itachi smirk, knowing he did that.
Of course, Itachi’s neck and shoulders are probably covered in them too. Shisui always likes to leave Itachi something to remember him by.
Standing from his barstool, Itachi gestures for Shisui to follow, leading them the short distance to his still unmade bed. Sharp eyes follow Itachi’s every movement, somehow darkening further when Itachi pulls the stolen sweatshirt off of his body, tossing it carelessly onto the otherwise spotless floor.
Immediately, Itachi’s hands are on Shisui, moving to the hem of his pullover and tugging it up and over Shisui’s head, tossing it haphazardly behind him to join the discarded sweatshirt on the floor.
Shisui licks his lips as he takes in Itachi, roving down his flushed chest and landing on the obvious erection hidden under stolen gray sweatpants. Moving in, Shisui’s hands are suddenly everywhere. Fingertips lightly explore Itachi’s hips and abdomen, making the muscles twitch with each caress, moving up to Itachi’s chest where hands lightly push him onto the bed.
Itachi’s dark hair fans out around him as he lands, his vision couds with lust as he gazes up at his lover. Shisui is looking back through hooded eyes filled with raw desire, drinking in the sight of Itachi sprawled on the bed below him. The fresh air that had filtered in through the cracked window is now thick with lust.
“Yeah, you’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?” Shisui says, voice rough as he moves over Itachi. A hum is the only response Itachi can seem to manage as Shisui begins to nip and lick at his chest.
Breaths begin to escape in short pants and Itachi finds himself squirming and grasping at his sheets. Shisui’s touches are so light they are almost teasing. Itachi wants more. He wants so much more .
Looking up at him through long, dark eyelashes, Shisui continues to leave a trail of love bites down Itachi’s body. Itachi is completely ensnared by that gaze, unable to look away. His heart pounds in his chest, his hands, his cock. Shisui’s fingers move downward, playing at the elastic waistband of his—well, Shisui’s—sweatpants.
Itachi can’t look away, eyes fixed on Shisui as he begins to slowly lap at one of Itachi’s nipple. Every touch and caress from his lover leaves his skin burning. His eyes clench shut, overwhelmed from the waves of warmth, surrendering to the sensations as another shiver wracks his lithe body.
“Shi-Shisui… more…” Itachi moans in response to a sharp bite. Begging for more, his body arches up into Shisui’s mouth. A satisfied smirk grows on Shisui’s lips before biting down harshly around Itachi’s nipple, no doubt leaving a clear bite mark.
But Itachi doesn’t care. In fact, he loves it. The jolt of pain instantly turns pleasurable and his moans only seem to get louder at Shisui’s constant change between soft and almost aggressive ministrations.
His hips wiggle, desperate for Shisui to pull the sweatpants down his hips and give some attention to his aching erection. Itachi’s not-so-subtle hinting is ignored, which isn’t surprising. He knows Shisui likes to do this, to push Itachi until he is desperate and needy and totally debauched. Not that Itachi’s complaining, it’s another thing he loves about sex with Shisui.
Moving to the other nipple, Shisui begins to abuse it just as thoroughly, reducing Itachi into a puddle, body melting into every touch.
Finally, fingers dip into the waistband and begin to tug the sweatpants down from where they hang low on Itachi’s lean hips, allowing his cock to finally spring free. Pants discarded, Itachi’s legs widen on instinct, opening himself up to his lover. Shisui’s breath audibly hitches at the sight, flooding Itachi with satisfaction, observing the effect he has as Shisui’s expression visibly darkens.
Moving to kneel over Itachi, Shisui grabs one of his legs, leaving a trail of barely-there kisses on his ankle, the inside of his knee, up his inner thigh. Every kiss closer and closer has Itachi trembling uncontrollably. He loves the way Shisui loves him.
Hands move to both inner thighs, spreading them wide on the bed. Finally , Shisui moves down to mouth at the swollen, reddened head of Itachi’s cock, lapping at the dripping precum and teasing the sensitive slit with his talented tongue. Another violent shudder consumes Itachi.
“You know,” Shisui starts, lips now moving against the shaft, “watching you react, and hearing all the little noises you make because of me—it turns me on so much. You’re so sexy…” He moves to bite at the sensitive skin of Itachi’s inner thigh. His hips wiggle as the pressure in Itachi’s lower stomach builds and his erection desperately craves more stimulation.
Shisui being Shisui—who gets off on watching Itachi squirm and beg—proceeds to paint the delicate skin of his inner thigh with bruising love bites.
Suddenly, Shisui has pulled back completely. Sitting up in a pleasure-induced daze, Itachi’s eyes immediately meet the dark heat of Shisui’s, bleeding desire. It’s the last thing he sees before being flipped onto his stomach, cheek pressing into the mattress as hands grasp his hips, lifting them up. Scrambling, Itachi positions his knees to hold himself up how Shisui wants him.
What comes next is no surprise. Shisui loves Itachi’s ass, always making sure to lavish it before pounding into it. His lover’s tongue gives a long, languid lick up Itachi’s ass, hands spreading him open and lightly squeezing the soft flesh.
The action pulls the most desperate moan from Itachi, the sound filling the room. Taking that as encouragement, Shisui’s tongue continues to lap. The gentleness and pleasurable sensation has Itachi relaxing into the bed, eyes slipping shut. A sharp suck has Itachi’s legs quivering. If Shisui keeps that up, Itachi isn’t sure if he’ll be able to support himself for long.
And Shisui knows this. Of course he knows this. Which is why it’s no surprise when he continues to randomly suck and lick more aggressively intermixed with soft, teasing caresses, drawing loud noises of pleasure from Itachi.
It’s all beginning to be too much, and Itachi can feel the pleasure mounting, getting to a point where he will inevitably be in even less control over his body than he currently is now. He loves it though—how Shisui brings him right up to the edge and lets him hover there. At this point, Itachi lives to be pleasured by Shisui, who seems to live to pleasure Itachi.
Along with the shivers and shocks that run down Itachi’s spine before settling in his erection—which is dripping precome all over the bed at this point—there’s another familiar, fleeting warmth in his chest. It’s something that seems to transcend beyond just ‘love.’
Eyes clench shut and fingers grasp the loose bed sheet impossibly tight. “Shi—Shisui… more… please,” Itachi pants into the bed. There’s probably drool pooling from how blissed-out he is.
A long finger is gently pushed in, working him along with Shisui’s tongue. Itachi can’t help but roll back into it, wanting it deeper, craving more . What he really wants is Shisui’s cock, but Shisui loving to drag things out means that he never just fucks into Itachi without gratuitous amounts of foreplay first. Not that Itachi’s necessarily complaining…
“God, you always look so good like this. Fucking yourself on my fingers,” Shisui mutters followed by more light kisses to his lower back. “Maybe I should let you fuck yourself on me…” his voice comes out rough. He’s reaching his limit too, Itachi can tell. Shisui’s voice getting especially raspy and muttering dirty talk between soft kisses are his usual tells. Yes, Itachi is about to get fucked.
Shisui hovers over Itachi’s body, a finger lightly tracing down the length of Itachi’s spine. Itachi is a quivering mess under him, ass still positioned up in the air begging for more.
“Yeah, you’re too fucking pretty,” Shisui observes before Itachi is manhandled onto his back again. “And that’s why I want to watch you.” Lust-darkened eyes roam up Itachi’s body to his face, no doubt taking in his debauched appearance. Leaning back over him, their lips meet moving together almost frantically. Itachi arches up into Shisui, enjoying the friction of their cocks rubbing together.
“Shi—c’mon…” Itachi whines into Shisui’s kisses. Shisui pulls back again, much to Itachi’s disappointment. It must show on his face as Shisui gives him a smirk and small laugh over his shoulder before moving to root through Itachi’s nightstand. A moment later he settles back between Itachi’s spread thighs, lube in hand.
Lube is globbed onto Shisui’s long fingers before they disappear from sight, Itachi feeling them filling him again. He can’t help but feel horribly worked up and clearly Shisui must too as it doesn’t take long before he deems Itachi ready, slicking up his own cock and pushing into Itachi with a deep groan.
Yes, that’s more like it.
Itachi adores having intense, toe-curling sex with Shisui. It’s something real, something that actually moves his soul unlike the mundane of his usual day-to-day routine. All of the posturing and niceties he has to upkeep at work, or with his family, is left behind, stripped away—leaving nothing more than a pure and authentic version of himself. There’s no space for the fake shit when they make love.
As Shisui begins to move, Itachi’s vision clouds and a stream of almost incoherent whimpers and pleas fall from his lips. “Shit—please Shisui… more… please, more…”
His hands go to Shisui’s shoulders, pulling him in close for a messy kiss, effectively silencing himself. One of Shisui’s hands grabs Itachi’s hip with enough strength to bruise. The other lands next to his head, slowly winding some of the silky strands around his hand, holding him down by his hair. Shisui has always especially loved Itachi’s hair (and is part of the reason Itachi hasn’t cut it yet), especially during sex.
“Oh fuck Itachi—” Shisui rasps against his lips. Itachi feels like he’s vibrating, just barely managing to hold on to his sanity as he gets closer and closer with every delicious thrust. Already his hands and feet are going buzzy. He won’t last much longer.
An exceptionally hard thrust makes Itachi’s vision blur, eyes watering from the overwhelming assault on all of his senses. Over his own loud moan, he hears Shisui remark, “Ah—right there.” Shisui goes feral, thrusts wild and intense, and Itachi can’t contain the cries of ecstasy that fill his room.
“Close, Shisui, so close—” Itachi practically sobs. Shisui’s hand tugs at his hair, the other moves to wrap around Itachi’s straining erection, jerking him off in time with Shisui’s thrusts.
With a long whine, Itachi’s entire body tenses as he comes. Waves of pleasure roll through his body, so intense he loses feeling in his hands which are gripping tightly to Shisui’s strong shoulders, most likely leaving red marks. Sticky cum splashes between their bodies, leaving Itachi entirely overstimulated as Shisui continues to thrust into him.
“Fu—fuck Itachi…” Shisui’s last few thrusts are sloppy as his head is thrown back with a guttural groan as he comes, nestled deep in Itachi.
They lay there for several moments to catch their breath. Itachi’s fingers begin to delicately trace random patterns up Shisui’s arm and neck as he begins to come back down to earth. A smile forms on his lips at the little shivers of pleasure from the spent man on top and inside of him.
After several long moments of basking in their collective warmth, Shisui finally moves, pulling out of Itachi and rolling onto the mussed up bed beside him.
“Shower?”
“Hmm…” Itachi moves to look at his charming lover who is all sly smiles and expressive dark eyes. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” Nuzzling Shisui’s chest, he adds, “Thank you.”
After the shower, Shisui dresses in some spare, clean clothes kept in Itachi’s apartment for these types of occasions. Itachi watches his lover get dressed, still naked, as he sips on another mug of jasmine hot tea and smokes another blunt. He’s perched next to his cracked bedroom window, listening to the occasional sounds of the city three stories below. There is little activity on this particular lazy Saturday.
Now fully dressed, Shisui leans in to give Itachi a lingering kiss that has the feeling of deep love burning in his chest again.
“See you later?” Shisui asks, eyes bright and hopeful.
“I’ll text you,” Itachi confirms between soft kisses.
“Think about what movie you want to watch.” Shisui moves to Itachi’s bedroom door, sending one last dazzling smile his way. There’s so much care in Shisui’s eyes as he takes in Itachi one last time. “See you later, my lazy lover.”
In return, Itachi just smiles softly as he watches Shisui head out.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Itachi decompresses and reflects on his day, a considerably bigger smile playing on his lips as flashes of Shisui fill his mind.