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(naruto) itasasu thing
Pairing: ITA/SASU. Mmm Uchihacest.
Genre: lemon, crossdressing Sasuke, sort-of het
Warnings: borderline non-con, abuse of Sexy no Jutsu.
Notes: This is a one-shot thing. It's based off a RP that I did with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sarolynne, meaning that the prose is more mine than not, but she is entirely responsible for Itachi's omgsexiness -- I mean characterization -- and a lot of his dialogue.
I'm going to write more tomorrow when I wake up. Should be around 20 pages long. whee.
waaaarning: it was a rp. so sometimes the action doesn't flow very smoothly. also because we played in turns, the POV jumps around a lot. i'm trying to limit that, but sometimes it's not possible -- and sometimes I'm so much into the grammar-editing process that I just don't think of it. If there are some places where stuff bugs you and you think it's possible to edit it, please point it out to me.
no, it's not saki-chan. omg no. I certainly hope not. nnnooooo~
Anyway. Now i go to bed. Zzzzz. night.
It was a dingy little bar hidden away in the most disreputable part of the Earth Country capital, the kind of bar where mafia thugs and rônin were at home, and where most ninjas didn't even bother hiding the scratch through their forehead protectors. It was a place where everyone minded their own business, and even if sometimes, drunken patrons provoked fights, those who could have been more than a passing annoyance usually knew better than to attack anyone wearing the Akatsuki clouds.
Itachi was supposed to meet Kisame there. The bar was not the sort of place he normally visited -- he preferred a quieter, more refined sort of environment. But it was better for him to stay as close as possible to his partner, in case the info that the blue-skinned man was currently getting from his contacts turned out to need urgent attention, and most of the bars in the area were the same as this one, when they weren't worse. The only other kind of public establishment around was the brothels.
Itachi gave the place a disparaging once over, and sat down in a booth against the wall, watching one of the waitresses skip toward him. Her kimono was falling off her shoulders, breasts this close to spilling free. He vaguely wondered if going to a brothel would have been that different.
"Hello sir! What can I get you?" she asked happily, and beamed as he looked up.
Itachi had been about to order tea and dango, but sudden giggling stopped him. The waitress was staring at him, a hand on her mouth to hide her wide grin. "What's so funny?" he asked quietly.
She winced apologetically, waving a hand, and gave him a coy look. "Oh, I'm sorry sir, I'm not mocking you. It's just that you look so much like our newest waitress."
... Huh. Really, now.
She licked her lips briefly, then leaned toward him, whispering as if in confidence. "Do you have a little sister? Or a cousin maybe?"
Itachi ignored the mystery that prevented her chest from spilling out and attacking him. The waitress wouldn't be satisfied without an answer, though. "No. If she resembles me, it's merely a coincidence." He gave his order coldly, ignoring the girl until she took the hint and slinked off. Even if he had come here in search for someone to fuck, he thought with vague annoyance, he wouldn't put his dick in a slut like that.
He waited patiently for his food and Kisame, ignoring the noise and the few speculative glances he got from men looking to pick a fight.
The waitress finally came back with Itachi's order. He noted with some displeasure that she wasn't that subdued by his gruff attitude; she was probably used to being around dangerous men all day. She put his order on the table, giving him a friendly smile.
"Really, now that I see you better, I have to ask again. Are you sure? Not even one born on the wrong side of the sheets? Look -- there she is."
Itachi's eyes followed where the waitress was pointing more out of reflex than curiosity. He caught sight of black bangs that might have been his mother's -- or his brother's -- if only they had been shorter, and long hair twisted into a low, messy bun. The shape of the ear and jaw were similar, too. Briefly, he considered his brother using a henge or a disguise to pass as female, but he shrugged it away mentally. The shape of the shoulders and back were undeniably feminine, as were the long, pale legs peeking out of the short kimono. Itachi gave them a mildly appreciative look, and was about to look away when he noticed her walk. There was something...
"...Not that I know of. I don't suppose you'd bring her out here?"
The waitress giggled. "Can do! Just wait a sec."
+
Sasuke had pretty much decided that he hated this mission the second he got it. He had disliked it before, when Sakura had still been supposed to do it. Not that he didn't trust her ability to defend herself against rapists and molesters, but waitresses in a sleazy bar rarely got to break someone's jaw to teach them not to let their hands wander to inappropriate places.
In fact, if you wanted the regulars to stop paying attention to you, the best way was to let them paw a little, and giggle, and learn the art of playful dodging. When you let them grab you and pull you onto their lap, they tended to focus on the groping, but when you were just a cute girl running around and giving them more alcohol, sometimes you got to hear useful things. Even if so far Sasuke hadn't heard much about the agitators who had caused so many problems to the local Daimyo.
Curse Sakura for breaking her leg. Curse Naruto for being a bubbly idiot incapable of discretion, much less of proper spying, and curse him again for needing money so much. Curse Kakashi for proposing that alternative to forfeiting the mission.
When Sasuke thought that, right now, Naruto and Kakashi got to patrol the rich areas of the town and Sakura got to sit and look at plans and information all day, while he had to be a girl and get beer and sake spilled over him and his bum pinched, he really, really regretted letting Naruto and Kakashi goad him into taking over for Sakura. It was a mission, though, and he was too professional to just tear his apron off and stomp out.
Besides if Naruto got evicted from his apartment because he couldn't pay, he'd probably whine for months, not to mention try to get Sasuke to let him crash at his place.
As a ninja, they had been trained to act, but Sasuke would never be able to play the part of a sleazy or outgoing woman for a long stretch of time. He was becoming an adept of the "shy" smile and the embarrassed stammering; he could project "demure, proper girl down on her luck" better and for longer stretches of time.
What he disliked most, though, wasn't the pawing, or the pretending; it was that he had to use Naruto's stupid, disgraceful jutsu. As careful as he was, there was a good chance that one day one of the customers would tug the top of his kimono open and notice the total lack of breasts, or get a good grope in and realize that the new girl's ass was too square and muscled -- or worse, that there was something dangling between her legs that really shouldn't be there. That was a stupid risk to take when there was an available alternative.
He didn't want his body type to be too different, or else he would be unable to move, so he had given himself small breasts. The hips, though -- well. As Naruto had said, there was no use in being in a girl's body if she looked as womanly as a boy anyway.
The kimono was alright; the sash was a lot wider than the traditional yukatas he had worn as a child, but it wasn't too uncomfortable, and reminded him that he wasn't supposed to bend over, or move in any other way than with his back straight. Contrary to other waitresses, he made sure to keep the collar closed properly -- not much cleavage to bare anyway, besides the body-shyness fit with his persona -- but it was so short that his legs were bared up to mid-thigh anyway. The draft was unnerving. He was wearing eye shadow and a touch of lipstick. He didn't like the feel all that much, but it wasn't that awful, so long as he told himself it was just another kind of camouflage paint.
No, the worst was definitely his body itself. Smaller hands, no upper body strength to speak of, lower center of gravity, and the wide hips and long legs always gave him the feeling that his ass was swerving like a cart pushed by a drunk man. Besides, the hair was getting everywhere. What had possessed him to make it so long? It didn't lie flat that much better than when he was male.
He tucked a stubborn lock back into his bun and picked up a few empty mugs on a table, skillfully avoiding a customer's roaming hands -- and then he felt the hair on his nape stand up. Casually, he glanced up into one of the mirrors lining the edges of the ceiling, and paled.
Oh fuck.
Oh FUCK.
He would know that face anywhere, even through dirty glass -- and the coat was kind of blatantly obvious as well. What was he supposed to do? What could he do? He had a mission, and he knew that turning back into his usual body anywhere near the bar would alert the men he was spying on -- one at least of their rogue ninjas was incredibly sensitive to chakra bursts. As a ninja he had a responsibility -- but his first loyalty had always been to his dead, not to the village. His team knew that.
To be frank, though, his first reaction wasn't to scream and try to kill Itachi; it was to run off and hide, to pretend that his brother had never seen him lower himself so much.
The customer's hand landed on his thigh suddenly, startling him. He couldn't freak out now; he had to keep his cover at all costs. It didn't matter if he was a girl around Itachi, so long as Itachi never saw him.
He stepped on the customer's foot "accidentally" and apologized softly, bowing as he retreated to the counter with the empty beer mugs. He just had to make sure that Itachi wouldn't see his face, that was all. Once he was in the kitchen he would pretend to be sick and -- he didn't know. The right thing to do was to warn Konoha, but...
"Saki! Wait up!"
Shit, what now? He slowed down, tilting his head toward the older girl; he made sure not to turn to face the mirrors or Itachi's table, though.
"There's a guy who wanna see you, come on!"
The blonde slipped an arm around hers and tugged. Sasuke tensed up and resisted her pull, afraid that he knew who she was speaking of.
"I'm tired, Emi-san, I'm not in the mood."
"Oh, come on, just a minute!"
Sasuke would have protested more, but then their supervisor -- a mountain of a man who also served as bouncer -- was suddenly looming over them, asking to know why they were chatting and not working.
"One of the customers wanna see Saki, and she doesn't wanna go," Emi explained with a pout.
The man scowled at Sasuke. "Girl, you know the policy. If the customer wants to chat with you, you go and chat with him. Make sure he buys plenty. And smile!"
And before Sasuke could invent a lie about feeling sick and needing to lie down, he grabbed Sasuke's shoulder and turned him around, nudging him toward Itachi's table. Damn it! Damn that weak body and damn his stupid idea of presenting himself like a shy girl, and damn Itachi for coming here of all places. He couldn't turn back into a man now without blowing the mission -- and making Itachi notice. The humiliation alone would probably kill him. He couldn't run off without being noticed, he couldn't do anything besides going there and hoping to fool Uchiha Itachi.
Right.
Holding his tray against his chest like a shield, Sasuke followed Emi, feeling like he had been dumped right in the middle of an enemy village.
Okay. He was a ninja. He could do that. He managed a small, sweet-and-shy smile -- his persona didn't encourage wide grins and open flirting anyway -- and bowed gracefully as a greeting. He needed to move perfectly if he didn't want Itachi to notice that he wasn't used to this body.
"See, what did I tell you? You look like siblings," Emi giggled, looking from one to the other curiously.
'... Bitch,' Sasuke thought, fingers tightening on his tray.
Itachi had been watching as the waitress reappeared, dragging a younger girl behind her. Under the light makeup, she looked about sixteen -- and also like his mother had given birth to a secret twin along with Sasuke. She was a lithe, pretty thing, with dark, slanted eyes and hair so black it almost looked blue. She was clutching her tray to her chest, which didn't really hide the fact that there was a pair of high, nicely shaped -- if not large -- breasts behind it.
She was nervous, that was his first thought. But it could be more, he thought as he regarded the girl critically. "I see what you mean. She is, in fact, the image of my mother."
Sasuke fought not to scowl or clench his jaw, knowing that he was testing him. How dare that bastard even mention Mother? But -- Mother had been beautiful. It made him blush in embarrassment, and he looked down at the table; Itachi wasn't prone to exaggerating.
To Itachi's sharingan, it didn't seem to be any kind of genjutsu, and the girl looked perfectly ordinary -- if she'd been less pretty, he would have tagged her "mousy". Besides if it were Sasuke, he would have expected more of a reaction to the mention of their mother than a simple blush. His instincts told him that something was off, though... but it wasn't impossible that the girl really did just happen to resemble an Uchiha strongly, or even that some uncle of his had gone and fathered a bastard at some point. She was pretty, either way. He wondered if he should kill her just in case, but it seemed excessive.
...Besides it still could be Sasuke.
He dropped a few coins on the table and shifted to make room on the seat beside him. "Why don't we talk a bit?"
It would have been suspicious to refuse that much money, even for the reputation Sasuke had built here. But replying "as you wish, sir," complete with smile and bow, was the most difficult thing he'd ever done.
He was grateful that his girl voice was softer, and that he was used to talking in a whisper; he didn't sound so much like himself then. He bowed again, and slipped in the booth, knees pressed together very properly. He really should have added a henge on top of Naruto's jutsu to make himself look different -- argh, no, Itachi would have seen through it and known that he was a ninja. Did he know? Did he suspect? Sasuke couldn't tell, but he cursed his current shape again anyway. There was no way he could fight wearing a kimono with such a tightly pulled obi, with only a few kunai on him. Besides the sheath was tied to the inside of his thigh, and he didn't see how to get to them without arousing suspicion.
Itachi took his cup thoughtfully and sipped his tea, then put it back down deliberately. He glanced at the girl sideways, under his lashes, hiding his scrutiny. "I told the truth when I said you looked like my mother," he commented softly. "The resemblance is uncanny. You could be my sister, if I had one."
Sasuke fidgeted with his tray, playing up some real nervousness to hide a more violent reaction. He glanced back, looking down quickly when he met red eyes, as if unnerved -- though it was mostly because there was no way Itachi would have mistook his look as anything but hate. He bit his lip, tasting the lip-gloss, and whispered past his need to scream, "Ah -- I believe I'm an only child. But maybe..."
"Do I upset you?" Itachi asked silkily, still watching her. One way or the other, she reminded him of his brother. For that alone, maybe, he ought to kill her.
FUCK. Did he know? Oh fuck -- no, calm, Sasuke had to stay calm. "I'm sorry, it's just -- your eyes. I'm sorry." Could he get to his kunai on time? He felt like he was about to die.
"Ah. Eyes like this are common in my family..." Itachi explained as he watched her reaction. A waitress like this shouldn't be this nervous. Even if she was new in such a bar, his eyes shouldn't upset her that much. "I suppose you wouldn't know that."
Sasuke bit his lip -- he probably looked too scared for just the eyes. After all, some weirder people hung around here. So how -- "... and the coat," he whispered -- hoping that he wouldn't get killed for knowing about Akatsuki. Not that they bothered to hide all that much -- but he thought that it should explain why a random girl should be so scared of him.
"I see..." So she knew, eh? But a waitress somewhere like this might. It was another reason he might have to kill her. A better reason than her appearance. And none of this was conclusive.
He closed his eyes, dipping his chin and considering. He could always test more. Deliberately, he dropped his hand into her lap, rubbing her thigh.
Sasuke jumped at the touch. He had prepared himself to be brushed against at some point, but such a bold and shameless gesture -- Oh FUCK! His hand was so close to the kunai sheath! "Sir!" he protested, putting his hands -- they looked so small and delicate against Itachi's, Sasuke had never felt so powerless -- on Itachi's wrist and attempted to hold his hand in place. "You -- I mean, maybe we're ..."
"Maybe we're...?" Itachi prompted her. Her hands weren't completely soft against his. Itachi knew calluses like that, but that was still not conclusive.
Sasuke bit his lip -- he hated having to say it, but -- cover. He had to maintain his cover, and for that he had to think like they girl he was supposed to be. "F-family. Besides you said -- I looked like your mother..." And now he was blushing. When would the bastard take his hand off his thigh?! Sasuke would have thought that such an act should make him want to kill Itachi even more, but he only wanted to escape and hide his mortification elsewhere.
"My mother was a very attractive woman." Itachi splayed his hand wider over her thigh. It was firmer than he'd have expected. The girl was in good shape. And it was true... she was very attractive.
Unlike the other girls, she didn't seem open to all comers, either.
Neither point -- the general fitness and the unusual prudishness -- was a good indicator that he should let her live.
Genre: lemon, crossdressing Sasuke, sort-of het
Warnings: borderline non-con, abuse of Sexy no Jutsu.
Notes: This is a one-shot thing. It's based off a RP that I did with
sarolynne, meaning that the prose is more mine than not, but she is entirely responsible for Itachi's omgsexiness -- I mean characterization -- and a lot of his dialogue. I'm going to write more tomorrow when I wake up. Should be around 20 pages long. whee.
waaaarning: it was a rp. so sometimes the action doesn't flow very smoothly. also because we played in turns, the POV jumps around a lot. i'm trying to limit that, but sometimes it's not possible -- and sometimes I'm so much into the grammar-editing process that I just don't think of it. If there are some places where stuff bugs you and you think it's possible to edit it, please point it out to me.
no, it's not saki-chan. omg no. I certainly hope not. nnnooooo~
Anyway. Now i go to bed. Zzzzz. night.
It was a dingy little bar hidden away in the most disreputable part of the Earth Country capital, the kind of bar where mafia thugs and rônin were at home, and where most ninjas didn't even bother hiding the scratch through their forehead protectors. It was a place where everyone minded their own business, and even if sometimes, drunken patrons provoked fights, those who could have been more than a passing annoyance usually knew better than to attack anyone wearing the Akatsuki clouds.
Itachi was supposed to meet Kisame there. The bar was not the sort of place he normally visited -- he preferred a quieter, more refined sort of environment. But it was better for him to stay as close as possible to his partner, in case the info that the blue-skinned man was currently getting from his contacts turned out to need urgent attention, and most of the bars in the area were the same as this one, when they weren't worse. The only other kind of public establishment around was the brothels.
Itachi gave the place a disparaging once over, and sat down in a booth against the wall, watching one of the waitresses skip toward him. Her kimono was falling off her shoulders, breasts this close to spilling free. He vaguely wondered if going to a brothel would have been that different.
"Hello sir! What can I get you?" she asked happily, and beamed as he looked up.
Itachi had been about to order tea and dango, but sudden giggling stopped him. The waitress was staring at him, a hand on her mouth to hide her wide grin. "What's so funny?" he asked quietly.
She winced apologetically, waving a hand, and gave him a coy look. "Oh, I'm sorry sir, I'm not mocking you. It's just that you look so much like our newest waitress."
... Huh. Really, now.
She licked her lips briefly, then leaned toward him, whispering as if in confidence. "Do you have a little sister? Or a cousin maybe?"
Itachi ignored the mystery that prevented her chest from spilling out and attacking him. The waitress wouldn't be satisfied without an answer, though. "No. If she resembles me, it's merely a coincidence." He gave his order coldly, ignoring the girl until she took the hint and slinked off. Even if he had come here in search for someone to fuck, he thought with vague annoyance, he wouldn't put his dick in a slut like that.
He waited patiently for his food and Kisame, ignoring the noise and the few speculative glances he got from men looking to pick a fight.
The waitress finally came back with Itachi's order. He noted with some displeasure that she wasn't that subdued by his gruff attitude; she was probably used to being around dangerous men all day. She put his order on the table, giving him a friendly smile.
"Really, now that I see you better, I have to ask again. Are you sure? Not even one born on the wrong side of the sheets? Look -- there she is."
Itachi's eyes followed where the waitress was pointing more out of reflex than curiosity. He caught sight of black bangs that might have been his mother's -- or his brother's -- if only they had been shorter, and long hair twisted into a low, messy bun. The shape of the ear and jaw were similar, too. Briefly, he considered his brother using a henge or a disguise to pass as female, but he shrugged it away mentally. The shape of the shoulders and back were undeniably feminine, as were the long, pale legs peeking out of the short kimono. Itachi gave them a mildly appreciative look, and was about to look away when he noticed her walk. There was something...
"...Not that I know of. I don't suppose you'd bring her out here?"
The waitress giggled. "Can do! Just wait a sec."
+
Sasuke had pretty much decided that he hated this mission the second he got it. He had disliked it before, when Sakura had still been supposed to do it. Not that he didn't trust her ability to defend herself against rapists and molesters, but waitresses in a sleazy bar rarely got to break someone's jaw to teach them not to let their hands wander to inappropriate places.
In fact, if you wanted the regulars to stop paying attention to you, the best way was to let them paw a little, and giggle, and learn the art of playful dodging. When you let them grab you and pull you onto their lap, they tended to focus on the groping, but when you were just a cute girl running around and giving them more alcohol, sometimes you got to hear useful things. Even if so far Sasuke hadn't heard much about the agitators who had caused so many problems to the local Daimyo.
Curse Sakura for breaking her leg. Curse Naruto for being a bubbly idiot incapable of discretion, much less of proper spying, and curse him again for needing money so much. Curse Kakashi for proposing that alternative to forfeiting the mission.
When Sasuke thought that, right now, Naruto and Kakashi got to patrol the rich areas of the town and Sakura got to sit and look at plans and information all day, while he had to be a girl and get beer and sake spilled over him and his bum pinched, he really, really regretted letting Naruto and Kakashi goad him into taking over for Sakura. It was a mission, though, and he was too professional to just tear his apron off and stomp out.
Besides if Naruto got evicted from his apartment because he couldn't pay, he'd probably whine for months, not to mention try to get Sasuke to let him crash at his place.
As a ninja, they had been trained to act, but Sasuke would never be able to play the part of a sleazy or outgoing woman for a long stretch of time. He was becoming an adept of the "shy" smile and the embarrassed stammering; he could project "demure, proper girl down on her luck" better and for longer stretches of time.
What he disliked most, though, wasn't the pawing, or the pretending; it was that he had to use Naruto's stupid, disgraceful jutsu. As careful as he was, there was a good chance that one day one of the customers would tug the top of his kimono open and notice the total lack of breasts, or get a good grope in and realize that the new girl's ass was too square and muscled -- or worse, that there was something dangling between her legs that really shouldn't be there. That was a stupid risk to take when there was an available alternative.
He didn't want his body type to be too different, or else he would be unable to move, so he had given himself small breasts. The hips, though -- well. As Naruto had said, there was no use in being in a girl's body if she looked as womanly as a boy anyway.
The kimono was alright; the sash was a lot wider than the traditional yukatas he had worn as a child, but it wasn't too uncomfortable, and reminded him that he wasn't supposed to bend over, or move in any other way than with his back straight. Contrary to other waitresses, he made sure to keep the collar closed properly -- not much cleavage to bare anyway, besides the body-shyness fit with his persona -- but it was so short that his legs were bared up to mid-thigh anyway. The draft was unnerving. He was wearing eye shadow and a touch of lipstick. He didn't like the feel all that much, but it wasn't that awful, so long as he told himself it was just another kind of camouflage paint.
No, the worst was definitely his body itself. Smaller hands, no upper body strength to speak of, lower center of gravity, and the wide hips and long legs always gave him the feeling that his ass was swerving like a cart pushed by a drunk man. Besides, the hair was getting everywhere. What had possessed him to make it so long? It didn't lie flat that much better than when he was male.
He tucked a stubborn lock back into his bun and picked up a few empty mugs on a table, skillfully avoiding a customer's roaming hands -- and then he felt the hair on his nape stand up. Casually, he glanced up into one of the mirrors lining the edges of the ceiling, and paled.
Oh fuck.
Oh FUCK.
He would know that face anywhere, even through dirty glass -- and the coat was kind of blatantly obvious as well. What was he supposed to do? What could he do? He had a mission, and he knew that turning back into his usual body anywhere near the bar would alert the men he was spying on -- one at least of their rogue ninjas was incredibly sensitive to chakra bursts. As a ninja he had a responsibility -- but his first loyalty had always been to his dead, not to the village. His team knew that.
To be frank, though, his first reaction wasn't to scream and try to kill Itachi; it was to run off and hide, to pretend that his brother had never seen him lower himself so much.
The customer's hand landed on his thigh suddenly, startling him. He couldn't freak out now; he had to keep his cover at all costs. It didn't matter if he was a girl around Itachi, so long as Itachi never saw him.
He stepped on the customer's foot "accidentally" and apologized softly, bowing as he retreated to the counter with the empty beer mugs. He just had to make sure that Itachi wouldn't see his face, that was all. Once he was in the kitchen he would pretend to be sick and -- he didn't know. The right thing to do was to warn Konoha, but...
"Saki! Wait up!"
Shit, what now? He slowed down, tilting his head toward the older girl; he made sure not to turn to face the mirrors or Itachi's table, though.
"There's a guy who wanna see you, come on!"
The blonde slipped an arm around hers and tugged. Sasuke tensed up and resisted her pull, afraid that he knew who she was speaking of.
"I'm tired, Emi-san, I'm not in the mood."
"Oh, come on, just a minute!"
Sasuke would have protested more, but then their supervisor -- a mountain of a man who also served as bouncer -- was suddenly looming over them, asking to know why they were chatting and not working.
"One of the customers wanna see Saki, and she doesn't wanna go," Emi explained with a pout.
The man scowled at Sasuke. "Girl, you know the policy. If the customer wants to chat with you, you go and chat with him. Make sure he buys plenty. And smile!"
And before Sasuke could invent a lie about feeling sick and needing to lie down, he grabbed Sasuke's shoulder and turned him around, nudging him toward Itachi's table. Damn it! Damn that weak body and damn his stupid idea of presenting himself like a shy girl, and damn Itachi for coming here of all places. He couldn't turn back into a man now without blowing the mission -- and making Itachi notice. The humiliation alone would probably kill him. He couldn't run off without being noticed, he couldn't do anything besides going there and hoping to fool Uchiha Itachi.
Right.
Holding his tray against his chest like a shield, Sasuke followed Emi, feeling like he had been dumped right in the middle of an enemy village.
Okay. He was a ninja. He could do that. He managed a small, sweet-and-shy smile -- his persona didn't encourage wide grins and open flirting anyway -- and bowed gracefully as a greeting. He needed to move perfectly if he didn't want Itachi to notice that he wasn't used to this body.
"See, what did I tell you? You look like siblings," Emi giggled, looking from one to the other curiously.
'... Bitch,' Sasuke thought, fingers tightening on his tray.
Itachi had been watching as the waitress reappeared, dragging a younger girl behind her. Under the light makeup, she looked about sixteen -- and also like his mother had given birth to a secret twin along with Sasuke. She was a lithe, pretty thing, with dark, slanted eyes and hair so black it almost looked blue. She was clutching her tray to her chest, which didn't really hide the fact that there was a pair of high, nicely shaped -- if not large -- breasts behind it.
She was nervous, that was his first thought. But it could be more, he thought as he regarded the girl critically. "I see what you mean. She is, in fact, the image of my mother."
Sasuke fought not to scowl or clench his jaw, knowing that he was testing him. How dare that bastard even mention Mother? But -- Mother had been beautiful. It made him blush in embarrassment, and he looked down at the table; Itachi wasn't prone to exaggerating.
To Itachi's sharingan, it didn't seem to be any kind of genjutsu, and the girl looked perfectly ordinary -- if she'd been less pretty, he would have tagged her "mousy". Besides if it were Sasuke, he would have expected more of a reaction to the mention of their mother than a simple blush. His instincts told him that something was off, though... but it wasn't impossible that the girl really did just happen to resemble an Uchiha strongly, or even that some uncle of his had gone and fathered a bastard at some point. She was pretty, either way. He wondered if he should kill her just in case, but it seemed excessive.
...Besides it still could be Sasuke.
He dropped a few coins on the table and shifted to make room on the seat beside him. "Why don't we talk a bit?"
It would have been suspicious to refuse that much money, even for the reputation Sasuke had built here. But replying "as you wish, sir," complete with smile and bow, was the most difficult thing he'd ever done.
He was grateful that his girl voice was softer, and that he was used to talking in a whisper; he didn't sound so much like himself then. He bowed again, and slipped in the booth, knees pressed together very properly. He really should have added a henge on top of Naruto's jutsu to make himself look different -- argh, no, Itachi would have seen through it and known that he was a ninja. Did he know? Did he suspect? Sasuke couldn't tell, but he cursed his current shape again anyway. There was no way he could fight wearing a kimono with such a tightly pulled obi, with only a few kunai on him. Besides the sheath was tied to the inside of his thigh, and he didn't see how to get to them without arousing suspicion.
Itachi took his cup thoughtfully and sipped his tea, then put it back down deliberately. He glanced at the girl sideways, under his lashes, hiding his scrutiny. "I told the truth when I said you looked like my mother," he commented softly. "The resemblance is uncanny. You could be my sister, if I had one."
Sasuke fidgeted with his tray, playing up some real nervousness to hide a more violent reaction. He glanced back, looking down quickly when he met red eyes, as if unnerved -- though it was mostly because there was no way Itachi would have mistook his look as anything but hate. He bit his lip, tasting the lip-gloss, and whispered past his need to scream, "Ah -- I believe I'm an only child. But maybe..."
"Do I upset you?" Itachi asked silkily, still watching her. One way or the other, she reminded him of his brother. For that alone, maybe, he ought to kill her.
FUCK. Did he know? Oh fuck -- no, calm, Sasuke had to stay calm. "I'm sorry, it's just -- your eyes. I'm sorry." Could he get to his kunai on time? He felt like he was about to die.
"Ah. Eyes like this are common in my family..." Itachi explained as he watched her reaction. A waitress like this shouldn't be this nervous. Even if she was new in such a bar, his eyes shouldn't upset her that much. "I suppose you wouldn't know that."
Sasuke bit his lip -- he probably looked too scared for just the eyes. After all, some weirder people hung around here. So how -- "... and the coat," he whispered -- hoping that he wouldn't get killed for knowing about Akatsuki. Not that they bothered to hide all that much -- but he thought that it should explain why a random girl should be so scared of him.
"I see..." So she knew, eh? But a waitress somewhere like this might. It was another reason he might have to kill her. A better reason than her appearance. And none of this was conclusive.
He closed his eyes, dipping his chin and considering. He could always test more. Deliberately, he dropped his hand into her lap, rubbing her thigh.
Sasuke jumped at the touch. He had prepared himself to be brushed against at some point, but such a bold and shameless gesture -- Oh FUCK! His hand was so close to the kunai sheath! "Sir!" he protested, putting his hands -- they looked so small and delicate against Itachi's, Sasuke had never felt so powerless -- on Itachi's wrist and attempted to hold his hand in place. "You -- I mean, maybe we're ..."
"Maybe we're...?" Itachi prompted her. Her hands weren't completely soft against his. Itachi knew calluses like that, but that was still not conclusive.
Sasuke bit his lip -- he hated having to say it, but -- cover. He had to maintain his cover, and for that he had to think like they girl he was supposed to be. "F-family. Besides you said -- I looked like your mother..." And now he was blushing. When would the bastard take his hand off his thigh?! Sasuke would have thought that such an act should make him want to kill Itachi even more, but he only wanted to escape and hide his mortification elsewhere.
"My mother was a very attractive woman." Itachi splayed his hand wider over her thigh. It was firmer than he'd have expected. The girl was in good shape. And it was true... she was very attractive.
Unlike the other girls, she didn't seem open to all comers, either.
Neither point -- the general fitness and the unusual prudishness -- was a good indicator that he should let her live.
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Itachi's an odd sort of bloodthirsty fellow isn't he?
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Those Uchihas and their inapproriate feelings to their relationships....
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Et le lemon ? >D
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What a mindfuck that must be for Sasuke. Love it!
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(*snerk* his problem really is that he's only attracted to lithe people with black slanted eyes and black hair. That's as much an egoistical thing as it is a growing in a clan thing.)
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For some reason, I think crossdressed (or sexy-no-jutsud) Sasuke doing his shy, stammering girl act is really hot. I would totally do your Saki, no matter what story she appeared in.
his first reaction wasn't to scream and try to kill Itachi
Sasuke must be maturing a bit recently if he suppressed the urge to scream like crazy and kill on the sight of his brother. :D
As for shifting POV, that only got to me once; the paragraph that begins "to Itachi's sharingan..." That was the only place I really noticed it.
*snicker*
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"Saki! Wait up!"
Second thought: AHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA! (okay, so that wasn't really a thought, but, it counts!)
"See, what did I tell you? You look like siblings," Emi giggled, looking from one to the other curiously.
'... Bitch,' Sasuke thought
Third thought: AHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAA! And then he gets GROPED!? Okay, this was waaaaay too much fun, perviness and all. I'd definitively like to see what happens next. :)
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Poor
SakiSasuke. XDshe's been through so much now.no subject
I love how Sasuke is more embarrassed then enraged... yeah, he wants to avenge his clan, but impressing his brother as he does so is even more important in many ways. He's still being driven by the little brother's desire to please big brother, even if it's incredibly fucked up. He's embarrassed because he thinks, in his current state, he's not up to his brother's expectations! Indeed, that seems to be what Itachi meant when he told Sasuke he lacked hatred- when Sasuke tried to kill Itachi he was really doing so out of that extremely fucked-up desire to please him, not really out of hate.
And yes,
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Oh Asuka, how we worship your perviness~~
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Itachi has grabby hands. *giggles*no subject
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Ah, it's not really Saki-chan, I just like the name. Girl name that sound a bit like Sasuke and still fit him aren't that easy to find. ~_~; (but yes, it's hot. mmm. I have a severe fetish for girl!sasuke. I really should control my impulses better. XD)
Sasuke isn't maturing so much as thinking OMG IF HE SEES ME LIKE THAT AND LAUGHS I'LL DIE OF SHAME.
thanks! will try to fix that. The really tricky bits come later, though. *sigh*
Re: *snicker*
Aw, come on, would I do that to Sasuke? -- wait, don't answer that.
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*offers mattresses to bounce off of*
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...yeah. I do. I really do. ._.; But it's funnier when Sasuke is still acting very much like himself underneath, pissy and all.
:D writing more, ma'am. It's just trickier because this is where the interaction really gets going and I have to limit the POV shifts as much as possible. *sigh*
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the lord knows I've had my fun abusing it *snort*DO write more, mah'girl! I'm curious as to how you'll deal with the POV in the next bit, given that there's very little that one can guess from the other character's thoughts when you're dealing with one of them. Interesting, truly so. :D
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and then get screwed properly.no subject