![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
(ItaSasu) ze crossdressing thing
For ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silverkiiri, because I suck and can't think of a good drabble for her.
Still incomplete, also I forget where I stopped the last time (can't find the stupid post again, damn it, when did I post the start of that again?! argh) so you get to read a repost of a good half of it. yey.
Same problems as last time, if anyone remembers -- this was originally a RP, so the POV shifts around a lot and sometimes it makes for some very awkward writing. If you spot anything annoying, or end up forgetting who the hell is speaking, please point it out. (more helpful if you tell me where, though. :P)
I might end up rewriting some of Sasuke's reactions at the end because they sound corny/not believable or something. I'm not sure they work. Dunno, just don't like that part. Also, if you have japanese girl names that sound like Sasuke, (not sakura) please tell me. I'm using Saki as a default, but I'd rather avoid associating this with Lace and Strawberries any more than that.
sarolynne was Itachi, I was Sasuke, we shared Kisame (he gets maybe ten lines so ehh. who cares. XD)
Warnings: Uchihacest (that's Itachi x Sasuke, yess.), and uh. abuse of sexy no jutsu? damn it, I should stop toying with that jutsu so much, and start playing with the kage bunshin or something.
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, quickly dispatched, 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 information that the blue-skinned man was currently getting from his contacts turned out to need urgent attention. 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 dark roots were showing, and her kimono was falling off her shoulders, breasts perilously close to spilling free. He vaguely wondered if going to a brothel would have been that different. Well, maybe the whores would have been of better quality.
"Hello sir! What can I get you?"
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 with violently pink nails, and gave him a coy look. "Oh, I'm sorry sir, I'm not mocking you." Right. He frowned, ready to dismiss her-- "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?"
The waitress wouldn't be satisfied without an answer. "No," he retorted curtly. "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 mentally shrugged it away. 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 went so far as to let them grab you and pull you onto their lap, they tended to focus on the groping, which was definitely too much attention; 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 ninjas, 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. At least he could avoid playing the widely grinning social butterfly almost as well as if he'd chosen "asocial bitch", while still seeming approachable and unthreatening.
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 hadn't bothered with huge 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 show off anyway; besides, the body-shyness fit with his persona -- but the kimono 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 that 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 the hair on his nape stood up. Casually, he glanced up into one of the mirrors lining the edges of the ceiling, and felt the blood drain from his face.
... Oh, fuck.
Oh FUCK.
Sasuke would know that face anywhere, even through dirty, dusty glass -- and the black-with-clouds cloak was kind of blatantly obvious as well.
Itachi. The man he lived to kill. His brother. Itachi.
What was he supposed to do? What could he do? Sasuke 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 -- at least three of their rogue ninjas were of a clan that was incredibly sensitive to chakra bursts. As a ninja of Konoha, Sasuke had a responsibility to complete his mission...
...But his first loyalty had always been to his dead, not to the village. His team knew that.
To be frank, though, Sasuke's first reaction wasn't, as it should have been, to scream in rage and hate, 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, make himself so weak and pitiful.
And then change back into his normal body, come back, and kill him. It was the body's weird hormones; Sasuke still couldn't feel his usual blinding hate, just a need to keep Itachi's contempt to its usual stifling levels.
The customer's hand landed on his thigh suddenly, startling him.
No, 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, never noticed.
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 wasn't sure. The right thing to do was to warn Konoha of a missing-nin's presence, but Itachi was his, and --
"Saki! Wait up!"
Shit, what now? Sasuke 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 under his and tugged. Sasuke tensed up and resisted her pull, afraid that he knew all too well who she was speaking of.
"I'm tired, Emi-san, I'm not in the mood," he protested quietly. His voice was rough with suppressed anger and confusion; he didn't want her to notice.
"Oh, come on, just a minute!"
Sasuke would have protested more, cover or not, but then their supervisor -- a mountain of a man who also served as bouncer -- suddenly appeared in front of them, looming over them both.
"Why is it that you two 're chatting an' not working?"
"One of the customers wanna see Saki, and she doesn't wanna go," Emi explained with a pout.
The whore. He was going to kill her. Slowly.
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, the man grabbed his 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 goddamn pushover, and damn Itachi for coming in this bar 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, not to mention all the criminals he'd been spying on for weeks, who'd think he was there for them. He couldn't run off without being noticed and probably hunted down -- same end result. And the mission...
Well, he could go there and hope to fool Uchiha Itachi.
Right.
It was that or breaking cover, which would reveal him anyway. 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, with the Leaf symbol over his back as a target.
Itachi was waiting, sitting casually in a booth, with his black-and-red cloak and his scratched forehead protector and his so familiar face, watching the room as if he didn't care. The sight of him so close made Sasuke want to howl and charge; but he still remembered how well the last attempt had ended.
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 yet.
"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 clone of herself, along with Sasuke. She was a lithe and 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 impression. But it could be more, he thought as he regarded the girl critically.
"Indeed. She is, in fact, the image of my mother."
Sasuke fought not to scowl or clench his jaw, knowing that Itachi 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" and relegated her in the background. 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; it wasn't as if she or her eventual bastards would get much occasions to be taken in by a ninja village.
...Besides it still could be Sasuke. Narrowing his eyes, 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 shy smile and bow, was the most difficult thing he'd ever done.
Sasuke was grateful that his girl voice was higher, and that he was used to talking in a whisper, to cover his intonations; 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.
"I told the truth when I said you looked like my mother," Itachi commented softly, making Sasuke's stomach churn. "The resemblance is uncanny. You could be my sister, if I had one."
Sasuke fidgeted with his tray, playing up some real enough 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..."
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. "Do I upset you?" he asked silkily. 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." He was babbling, saying too much. 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..." Sasuke could feel Itachi's eyes on him, not letting go. "I suppose you wouldn't know that."
Sasuke bit his lip -- he'd overshot; he probably looked too scared for just the eyes. After all, some weirder people hung out here; a waitress at this kind of place should have been desensitized. 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 maybe it would explain to Itachi's satisfaction why a random girl would react so violently.
He waited, heart in his throat, wondering if Naruto's jutsu would stop working if he died. ...Dying from his brother's hands in a bar wench's kimono, without even lifting a hand in self-defense. Right now he wasn't sure he could even imagine a more ignominious end.
"I see..."
So she knew, eh? It wasn't such a surprise, not in a place where more than half the customers were missing-nins of several villages. It was another reason Itachi might have to kill her. A better reason than her appearance.
And none of this was conclusive. Itachi closed his eyes, dipping his chin and considering. He could always test more...
... mmh. And he knew just the way. 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! Itachi's 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 as callused as a ninja's would be, but neither did they feel completely soft against his. Itachi knew a few ways for a waitress to get 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 the girl he was supposed to be. And if she would say it... "F-family. We might be... Besides you said -- I looked like your mother..." When would the bastard take his hand off his thigh? Being a murdering sociopath wasn't enough, he had to be a lecher as well!
"My mother was a very attractive woman." Itachi commented with some amusement, as he 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 or the unusual prudishness -- was a good indicator that he should let her live. Though... Itachi wouldn't have thought that Sasuke would be able to allow Itachi to touch him this way -- or at all -- without totally losing it. If he would, then it meant that his hot-headed little brother had grown significantly.
Sasuke spluttered to hide the way he wanted to howl. "B-but--" There was no way to resist more without seeming suspicious. The Customer Is Always Right and all that rot. He sighed softly, his hands still on Itachi's -- it was so disturbing, the feel of his skin and -- could Itachi feel his calluses? Sasuke had rubbed most of them off, but it was hard to get rid of every little trace.
"Keep me company while I wait for my colleague."
Sasuke gasped softly as his brother slipped one finger under the hem of his kimono. That felt so horribly intimate. He couldn't keep controlling his heart rate to manageable levels -- he could only slow it down to less than "freaking out" levels. If Itachi noticed that -- oh fuck, oh god I hate you, don't touch me there, don't fucking touch me --
"... Yes, sir." There was no way to discreetly get rid of the sheath. If Itachi's hand slipped too high between his thighs, he'd find it, and then his cover would not only be blown to hell and back, but he would have to go on with the knowledge that he'd allowed his murderous bastard of a brother to feel him up like a common whore. Provided Itachi wasn't so disgusted at him for not finding a way out of that situation that he would kill him.
Sasuke had to keep his cover, it was still his best bet. Hoping that Itachi wouldn't immediately take advantage, he let go of his brother's wrist to reach for the tea. Maybe if Itachi started drinking he would get distracted. Or he could pick it up with the hand currently on Sasuke's lap. Yeah, fat chance.
Anyway -- Sasuke had to think elegant, Sakura had drilled it into him. Every gesture carefully controlled, he poured, then pushed the cup toward his brother, only his fingertips pointing out of his long sleeves. And hoped, very, very strongly, that Itachi would take the cup and get his fucking hand off his fucking leg and stop tickling the inside of his thigh; Sasuke was feeling every tiny brush in such intense detail, he could have drawn Itachi's fingerprints. It was too much, too much.
Itachi kept contact with the girl's skin a moment longer, enjoying her nervousness. The corner of his lip twitched up as he watched her try to pretend that she didn't want to squirm free; he took the hint, though, removing his hand for the moment to take the cup with both hands. The girl's reactions... they reminded him of Sasuke's, but they weren't at all what he'd have expected of Sasuke in this situation. It was almost like Sasuke when they had been children...
He snorted at the thought -- Sasuke had been a sweet child even despite his competitive streak, but very definitely a little boy -- and wondered idly how long he had left before Kisame came. Itachi didn't waste his time on random sexual encounters often, but there was something fascinating about the resemblance; something fleeting and teasing that he very much wanted to pinpoint.
Sasuke watched as Itachi took a sip. His hand off Sasuke, attention somewhat turned away -- not entirely, but enough... Sasuke put his own hands on his lap demurely, using his sleeves to hide them, and quickly undid the strap that kept his kunai holster in place. When he shifted a little so that he would face Itachi more, as befitted an attentive hostess, he managed to make it slide off the seat, catching it with his heel to muffle its landing. He nudged the holster under the seat, out of sight. The cloth was dark, and the kunai had been painted black so that the metal wouldn't shine; he hoped that no one would notice it as long as Itachi was here. If it was picked up later, they would only assume that a customer had lost it. He'd be out of a good sheath and six kunai; he could deal with that.
"Is the tea to your liking, sir?"
"It's better than I had expect in a place like this," Itachi replied quietly, and decided to end her short reprieve; she was getting too relaxed. As soon as he set his cup down, his hand slid back into the girl's lap, fingering the short hemline of her kimono. She was soft, over the muscles. Slim.
Exactly how he would have pictured Sasuke as a girl. The suspicion still nagged him.
Sasuke made a soft sound of surprise -- still better than the shocked yell that was trying to come out -- and hung his head, reddening in acute humiliation. He was weaponless and Itachi had his hands all over him. Sasuke had been in more dangerous situations before, but right now he couldn't remember what they were.
"S-sir..." He put his hands on top of Itachi's again, and hoped to god that whoever the bastard was meeting would come by quickly, because the way it was going -- well. He hadn't thought that Itachi would be twisted enough to go for girls who looked like their mother. Sick bastard.
"What?" his brother asked, mocking. "In a place like this, are you going to claim this isn't for sale?" The bastard slipped his fingers under the hem again, teasing the inside of his thigh.
Sasuke couldn't help but glare, but somehow -- thank god his usual expressions were softened so much by the girl's features -- managed to make it look hurt and not murderous... more vulnerable. Then he hung his head; to his great shame, he didn't have to work hard to make his hands shake.
"... I make enough with my salary and -- and the tips. I don't --" He bit his lip again -- he was wondering if there was any lipstick left there -- and looked away. Now what? What should he say? Itachi was still watching him, staring. What if he already knew, and was just mocking him by playing along -- just handing Sasuke more rope to hang himself with? "...I don't."
"I see," Itachi replied, pointedly not moving his hand. "I should apologize then." The girl glanced down at his hand, clearly dubious, but didn't comment out loud, deflating before any words made it out of her mouth.
"... It's. It's alright. I suppose in a place like this..."
Itachi wasn't all that interested in her submission; it had been a given from the start. "...You actually remind me a bit of my brother, in a way. He resembled Mother," he commented, watching closely for a reaction.
Sasuke had been expecting a mention of himself for quite a while, actually, and had the perfect reply all ready. He blinked up at Itachi, puzzled. "Your brother? ... mou, I didn't think I was so unwomanly," he protested softly, and attempted a brave little smile.
"No, you are very feminine," Itachi reassured him -- which really didn't reassure him, argh. Sasuke was playing a role; he should be proud to play it so well, he should be glad... Feminine, hah. "If anything," Itachi added with a slowness that seemed quite deliberate, "I imagine it's my brother who fails at being masculine."
The utter bastard. "Um... Isn't that a little harsh...?" Sasuke mumbled, and then ducked his head as he remembered that, even gently, Saki wouldn't berate a trained killer. What it Itachi had been baiting him? Wait, scratch that, of course he was baiting him. Fuck. "I'm sorry -- it isn't my business, and you're probably right -- sorry."
Itachi wasn't sure. The initial defensiveness... perhaps. But he still wasn't entirely sure. He couldn't kill his brother like he would a tavern girl -- though really, if Sasuke got himself killed like that, it would be too ridiculous for words, and probably proof that he was a disappointment and deserved it.
Still, Itachi wasn't entirely sure, even though his doubt was a little stronger now. Slowly, he slid his finger up the girl's thigh.
"Apology accepted."
The girl yelped and squeezed her thighs together, hands pressed on her lap to prevent him from getting any closer to her groin. She was turning a rather cute shade of tomato-red; he smirked, amused. The silly wench had only managed to trap his fingers between her legs.
"Sir!" she protested, giving him a reproachful look.
He bowed his head perfunctorily, but was totally unapologetic when he replied, "I'm sorry."
Sorry, yeah right, he was all but sorry; but Saki would never, ever call him on it, curse her. Finally Sasuke's brother removed his hand slowly, letting his fingertips ghost over his skin. Sasuke shivered, emitting a strangled little gasp that wasn't entirely fake.
He was so damn disturbed. Why did callused hands have to feel like that to his softer, frailer girl skin? It had been the other way around as a boy!
... Well, mostly. Still.
"T-thank you," he stuttered, and spent a few moments trying to pretend to himself that, for a second, he hadn't been acting.
He picked up the teapot and poured more for Itachi, attempting to regain his composure. What the fuck was the matter with his body?
"I hope I didn't offend you," Itachi offered, still watching her openly. She was flushed and flustered... and attractive that way.
Very like his brother. Even her voice was similar. The thought of taking her sent a jolt to his cock.
"Um. I guess it's... flattering." She gave a shy, forced little smile, avoiding Itachi's eyes. "Besides... I should get used to it. The boss... He tells me I'm too proud to do good work here. Maybe he's right." She played with her sleeves again, her voice so quiet that he almost didn't hear it over the noise of the other customers. "I'm sorry if I offended you. I didn't mean to imply that... Uhm."
"Imply that?" he prompted her, smirking as he drank his tea and eyed her. Unlike the other girls, she wasn't falling out of her kimono. In a way, it only made her more enticing. Itachi had always enjoyed the chase more than the capture; hunting for clues, discovering -- so much left to unveil and learn. Often the end result was a bit of a disappointment; but in the meantime, he was amused.
"That--" Ack. That what? What could Sasuke say? "That your advances were unwelco-- wait, I mean. I mean." Sasuke fidgeted with his sleeve, disgusted at how naive he sounded; but sweet, shy and innocent could work here. "You're not a disgusting old pervert, I guess." He glanced at a few of the drunkards at other tables to make his point. No, Itachi apparently was just the well-hidden sort of pervert. The mommy-complex kind. That was way more than Sasuke had ever wanted to know about him.
The asshole smirked at him, a thin, mocking twist of the lips. Sasuke wanted to rip his smug eyes out. "Then they're welcome?"
"No! That's not what I meant -- I meant --" Sasuke fidgeted again; it seemed to work. At least it gave him something to look at while he thought about his next move. "You didn't... grab me. Or whisper in my ear, with really bad breath. And your hands aren't all sweaty and gross, so it wasn't as awful as it could be, but still... Still. I... don't do that."
Itachi snorted, somewhat disbelieving. Unless this was somehow his brother in a disguise; he could see the little brat as a prude just fine, believing that denying any and all physical desires proved his dedication. There was nothing wrong with satisfying biological urges, so long as one kept his head and didn't allow anyone to manipulate him through sex.
"If you don't do 'that', then you are probably the only one here," he scoffed.
Of course, being entirely ordinary was suspicious in itself -- like all personal quirks had been smoothed out; it gave off an unnatural feel. There was a reason why people tended to believe in slightly unlikely lies; they thought that good lies should be more plausible. But could such a girl really have found her way to such a sordid place, and still seem so untouched? She looked like she wouldn't go very far down these streets before she was raped. Unless the bar owner or a yakuza was family...
The girl blushed and hung her head "... I haven't been here that long. I know I probably will, someday, but... Ah. Would you like more tea?"
"I have plenty," he snorted; maybe she was trying to force him to run to the bathroom. Subtle. "If I were to make a suggestion... I would say that you should try to make your first time with someone other than an old pervert."
Yeah, like the smug creep that he was, right? The fact that Itachi didn't act as overtly dirty as the rest only made him seem creepier. Sasuke bowed politely, refusing to acknowledge the shivers running up his back at Itachi's low, purring, suggestive voice.
"I will consider your suggestion, sir." Yeah. No.
When was Itachi going to let him go? Wasn't he getting tired of teasing -- didn't he have a meeting or something? Sasuke wanted out of here so very badly, but if he was too blatant in his means of escape, he may as well admit who he was out loud.
"What's your name?"
Sasuke blinked up at him. "Saki, sir." He was glad to have practiced so much; it rolled off his tongue naturally. But he had chosen a similar-sounding name to be sure that he would remember to answer to it, and now Itachi was probably adding it to his growing list of amazing coincidences.
"Saki," Itachi repeated slowly, as if tasting the name. "You aren't at all interested in me then, Saki?"
Sasuke remembered the feel of the bastard's hand, and his whole face and neck decided to go up in flames. "Ah -- I'm sorry..." he replied, bowing hurriedly, not so much in apology as because if he looked at Itachi a second longer he would just die.
"What are you sorry for?" Itachi replied, arching an eyebrow. "For not being interested?"
Bastard was doubting him. Sasuke could read it clearly on his face. He tugged on the sleeves of his kimono nervously to give himself a second. "... Yes... um." He sighed and gave Itachi a sheepish, embarrassed little smile -- he hated looking into Itachi's eyes so much. "I'm not really that good at keeping you company, am I. Is there anything I can do?"
"I'm sure there are plenty of things you can do," his brother retorted smoothly, and slid closer to him so their thighs would touch. Sasuke gulped nervously. Okay, that had probably been a bit too open an invitation. He didn't jerk away, though, even as Itachi's hand returned to his knee -- he wasn't supposed to be that much of a prude.
"Sir..."
He sighed again, defeated for now, and put his hands in his lap to block Itachi, in case his hand traveled too high up again.
It was disturbing to realize how excruciatingly aware of the smallest twitch he was. And when Itachi squeezed Sasuke's knee, leaning into him, Sasuke closed his eyes. He would have preferred a punch, or a nerve pinch; the knowing caresses were getting to him in all the wrong ways. He turned his head away shyly -- way too conscious of the way the gesture bared the pale skin of his neck, and hating that he couldn't just shove Itachi off and leave.
"You ... don't take 'no' for an answer, do you?"
"Not when there's no conviction in it," Itachi replied, letting his breath waft over her neck, watching how it disturbed her hair. The bun seemed so heavy; he wondered how long her hair was. Somehow, she even smelled like Sasuke should, if he were a girl; like kin and like smoke. It was infuriating and arousing at once.
Sasuke shivered, eyes widening slightly. "W-what do you mean?" Like hell there was no conviction in it! "I just didn't want to offend you..."
"You haven't offended me," the bastard reassured Sasuke softly, and insinuated his hand between his knees. Sasuke actually squealed in surprise, then blushed, mortified. What the fuck was that sound? Okay, his throat was different, but it disturbed him that he could make that kind of sound without thinking. But -- it wasn't time to slip out of his persona yet. "Sir!" he protested, squirming slightly.
Itachi's hand was strangely warm and strong. Sasuke remembered it petting his hair and punching him in the chest, breaking ribs, and he didn't know if the twisty feeling in his guts was good or bad. It should have been unquestioningly bad; the mere fact that there was any doubt was disturbing.
Itachi was tempted to go for her breast, but that would have been less discreet -- the table hid his groping admirably. "Do you not like my touching you?" he whispered into her hair as he rubbed up the inside of her thigh.
Her hair reminded him of his mother's, so heavy, and of Sasuke's. That dark, blue black. A part of him wanted to bury his hand in her hair and tug, exposing that white neck, seeing what noises she'd make then, with her throat bared to him...
"I --"
Sasuke trembled, feeling the twisting in his guts shift to good. Very good. He couldn't be -- he couldn't feel anything nice from his brother's touch, he just couldn't. It was his body, stupid body that told him that stuff felt good which shouldn't have, and didn't like stuff that Sasuke used to like, and was so stupidly frailer and smaller and vulnerable and unbalanced. Oh, and the hormonal shifts. No wonder Naruto was such a freak; inventing something so messed up during his preteen years.
It didn't mean anything. It was purely physical; not his fault.
"... I..."
His throat was dry. He couldn't speak. He licked his lips quickly, swallowed nervously. Itachi was so close, and so -- he didn't know -- predatory... anticipating -- stuff, that Sasuke was doing his best not to think about, lest he freak out.
"It isn't... awful, I guess, but -- please, sir..."
Itachi brushed the girl's hair back with his other hand, and leaned in closer. "Please?" he repeated, letting his breath caress her skin. His fingers were roaming dangerously high under the girl's kimono, but she only squirmed and blushed more. He wondered if she would actually stop him, this time...
"Oi, Itachi-san!"
Sasuke jerked when he hear the voice, and grabbed Itachi's hand to hold it in place, mortified. Great, now another of Itachi's friends would see him like that. He looked up at the man standing by the booth... and up... Fuck, he was huge. That was the blue guy, Sasuke vaguely remembered him in the background from their last meeting... He offered a little gasp, to keep in character.
"Do we have the time to spare to play with a whore?" the blue guy commented, arching an eyebrow.
Now the girl looked hurt, flinching at being called a whore. Itachi allowed himself to be pushed away, letting his fingers trail on her skin in a light caress. "...No, Kisame. There's no time for that."
He almost regretted letting her go; but he had his priorities.
Sasuke slipped out of the booth, and bowed politely, grateful for the interruption. He could probably hang around and hear more, but he was pretty sure they'd have no problem offing him if they believed he knew anything at all. It wasn't worth the risk.
...He was only justifying his running away instead of doing his job, but he didn't give a flying fuck. He'd gone above and beyond the call of duty right now. He picked up his tray, holding it close to his chest again.
"Can I get you anything, sir?"
The other Akatsuki eyed him up and down, and then smirked. "I think I'd like what he was having."
Sasuke looked down at the floor; if he looked up right now his eyes would probably be red. Outsmarting his brother, dealing with the shame and the manhandling -- that was more than enough to take from Itachi. Sasuke couldn't take it from a blue-skinned, cocky bitch with weird fish eyes and a superior, lecherous smirk.
"He won't be having anything," he snapped, throwing some money on the table. "Leave us."
Sasuke cringed, and snatched the money before bowing a last time to Itachi and retreating. The kimono made it hard to take a deep, relieved breath, however much he wanted to. He was careful to walk properly this time, in case they were watching -- and that included letting his hips roll the way they wanted to. He didn't let anyone else stop him.
Thank god he was safe now. He took a moment in the staff room to calm down, then realized with regret that he had to come back out -- his shift wasn't finished yet and it would be suspicious to disappear so fast. But he was going to make sure that he wouldn't be anywhere near Itachi's side of the room.
If Emi tried to drag him away from his tables again, he would ram a Chidori up her ass. Bitch.
+
Kisame eyed the little waitress speculatively as she left. She was pretty, sure, but her tits could be bigger... not all that great. Sort of boyish, which actually wasn't all that surprising. He rarely saw his partner with full-figured women; Itachi's tastes seemed to run more toward petite and androgynous.
He sat down in front of Itachi and arched an eyebrow in a silent question. Itachi frowned faintly, and didn't reply; no matter, Kisame didn't see a problem with asking out loud.
"Since when does your brother go around in drag, Itachi-san?"
"The resemblance is uncanny, isn't it?" Itachi commented noncommittally.
Kisame nodded thoughtfully. "If the jaw wasn't just a bit too narrow, it could almost be good makeup..." The bone structure was wrong, though. "But if it was a henge, why would he make himself look that much like himself? And if it was a genjutsu, you'd see through it." Kisame paused to consider the mystery, then shrugged. "Probably a bastard child. Are you going to kill her too?" he asked idly.
"I haven't decided yet," Itachi replied quietly, taking a sip of his tea, willing his cock down.
Kisame smirked, gave him a look that held a touch more mockery than the shark-man usually directed his way. Itachi knew what he was thinking, though -- he found it amusing that Itachi could feel something as common as physical attraction, enough to make him indecisive.
His brother or not, the girl wouldn't go far; either Sasuke was undercover or Saki had no real reason to run off. Later, Itachi would see if he still felt like unveiling her mystery.
His eyes narrowed as he put the whole matter aside.
"... Let's talk business."
silverkiiri, because I suck and can't think of a good drabble for her.Still incomplete, also I forget where I stopped the last time (can't find the stupid post again, damn it, when did I post the start of that again?! argh) so you get to read a repost of a good half of it. yey.
Same problems as last time, if anyone remembers -- this was originally a RP, so the POV shifts around a lot and sometimes it makes for some very awkward writing. If you spot anything annoying, or end up forgetting who the hell is speaking, please point it out. (more helpful if you tell me where, though. :P)
I might end up rewriting some of Sasuke's reactions at the end because they sound corny/not believable or something. I'm not sure they work. Dunno, just don't like that part. Also, if you have japanese girl names that sound like Sasuke, (not sakura) please tell me. I'm using Saki as a default, but I'd rather avoid associating this with Lace and Strawberries any more than that.
sarolynne was Itachi, I was Sasuke, we shared Kisame (he gets maybe ten lines so ehh. who cares. XD)Warnings: Uchihacest (that's Itachi x Sasuke, yess.), and uh. abuse of sexy no jutsu? damn it, I should stop toying with that jutsu so much, and start playing with the kage bunshin or something.
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, quickly dispatched, 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 information that the blue-skinned man was currently getting from his contacts turned out to need urgent attention. 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 dark roots were showing, and her kimono was falling off her shoulders, breasts perilously close to spilling free. He vaguely wondered if going to a brothel would have been that different. Well, maybe the whores would have been of better quality.
"Hello sir! What can I get you?"
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 with violently pink nails, and gave him a coy look. "Oh, I'm sorry sir, I'm not mocking you." Right. He frowned, ready to dismiss her-- "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?"
The waitress wouldn't be satisfied without an answer. "No," he retorted curtly. "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 mentally shrugged it away. 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 went so far as to let them grab you and pull you onto their lap, they tended to focus on the groping, which was definitely too much attention; 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 ninjas, 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. At least he could avoid playing the widely grinning social butterfly almost as well as if he'd chosen "asocial bitch", while still seeming approachable and unthreatening.
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 hadn't bothered with huge 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 show off anyway; besides, the body-shyness fit with his persona -- but the kimono 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 that 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 the hair on his nape stood up. Casually, he glanced up into one of the mirrors lining the edges of the ceiling, and felt the blood drain from his face.
... Oh, fuck.
Oh FUCK.
Sasuke would know that face anywhere, even through dirty, dusty glass -- and the black-with-clouds cloak was kind of blatantly obvious as well.
Itachi. The man he lived to kill. His brother. Itachi.
What was he supposed to do? What could he do? Sasuke 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 -- at least three of their rogue ninjas were of a clan that was incredibly sensitive to chakra bursts. As a ninja of Konoha, Sasuke had a responsibility to complete his mission...
...But his first loyalty had always been to his dead, not to the village. His team knew that.
To be frank, though, Sasuke's first reaction wasn't, as it should have been, to scream in rage and hate, 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, make himself so weak and pitiful.
And then change back into his normal body, come back, and kill him. It was the body's weird hormones; Sasuke still couldn't feel his usual blinding hate, just a need to keep Itachi's contempt to its usual stifling levels.
The customer's hand landed on his thigh suddenly, startling him.
No, 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, never noticed.
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 wasn't sure. The right thing to do was to warn Konoha of a missing-nin's presence, but Itachi was his, and --
"Saki! Wait up!"
Shit, what now? Sasuke 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 under his and tugged. Sasuke tensed up and resisted her pull, afraid that he knew all too well who she was speaking of.
"I'm tired, Emi-san, I'm not in the mood," he protested quietly. His voice was rough with suppressed anger and confusion; he didn't want her to notice.
"Oh, come on, just a minute!"
Sasuke would have protested more, cover or not, but then their supervisor -- a mountain of a man who also served as bouncer -- suddenly appeared in front of them, looming over them both.
"Why is it that you two 're chatting an' not working?"
"One of the customers wanna see Saki, and she doesn't wanna go," Emi explained with a pout.
The whore. He was going to kill her. Slowly.
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, the man grabbed his 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 goddamn pushover, and damn Itachi for coming in this bar 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, not to mention all the criminals he'd been spying on for weeks, who'd think he was there for them. He couldn't run off without being noticed and probably hunted down -- same end result. And the mission...
Well, he could go there and hope to fool Uchiha Itachi.
Right.
It was that or breaking cover, which would reveal him anyway. 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, with the Leaf symbol over his back as a target.
Itachi was waiting, sitting casually in a booth, with his black-and-red cloak and his scratched forehead protector and his so familiar face, watching the room as if he didn't care. The sight of him so close made Sasuke want to howl and charge; but he still remembered how well the last attempt had ended.
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 yet.
"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 clone of herself, along with Sasuke. She was a lithe and 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 impression. But it could be more, he thought as he regarded the girl critically.
"Indeed. She is, in fact, the image of my mother."
Sasuke fought not to scowl or clench his jaw, knowing that Itachi 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" and relegated her in the background. 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; it wasn't as if she or her eventual bastards would get much occasions to be taken in by a ninja village.
...Besides it still could be Sasuke. Narrowing his eyes, 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 shy smile and bow, was the most difficult thing he'd ever done.
Sasuke was grateful that his girl voice was higher, and that he was used to talking in a whisper, to cover his intonations; 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.
"I told the truth when I said you looked like my mother," Itachi commented softly, making Sasuke's stomach churn. "The resemblance is uncanny. You could be my sister, if I had one."
Sasuke fidgeted with his tray, playing up some real enough 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..."
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. "Do I upset you?" he asked silkily. 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." He was babbling, saying too much. 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..." Sasuke could feel Itachi's eyes on him, not letting go. "I suppose you wouldn't know that."
Sasuke bit his lip -- he'd overshot; he probably looked too scared for just the eyes. After all, some weirder people hung out here; a waitress at this kind of place should have been desensitized. 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 maybe it would explain to Itachi's satisfaction why a random girl would react so violently.
He waited, heart in his throat, wondering if Naruto's jutsu would stop working if he died. ...Dying from his brother's hands in a bar wench's kimono, without even lifting a hand in self-defense. Right now he wasn't sure he could even imagine a more ignominious end.
"I see..."
So she knew, eh? It wasn't such a surprise, not in a place where more than half the customers were missing-nins of several villages. It was another reason Itachi might have to kill her. A better reason than her appearance.
And none of this was conclusive. Itachi closed his eyes, dipping his chin and considering. He could always test more...
... mmh. And he knew just the way. 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! Itachi's 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 as callused as a ninja's would be, but neither did they feel completely soft against his. Itachi knew a few ways for a waitress to get 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 the girl he was supposed to be. And if she would say it... "F-family. We might be... Besides you said -- I looked like your mother..." When would the bastard take his hand off his thigh? Being a murdering sociopath wasn't enough, he had to be a lecher as well!
"My mother was a very attractive woman." Itachi commented with some amusement, as he 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 or the unusual prudishness -- was a good indicator that he should let her live. Though... Itachi wouldn't have thought that Sasuke would be able to allow Itachi to touch him this way -- or at all -- without totally losing it. If he would, then it meant that his hot-headed little brother had grown significantly.
Sasuke spluttered to hide the way he wanted to howl. "B-but--" There was no way to resist more without seeming suspicious. The Customer Is Always Right and all that rot. He sighed softly, his hands still on Itachi's -- it was so disturbing, the feel of his skin and -- could Itachi feel his calluses? Sasuke had rubbed most of them off, but it was hard to get rid of every little trace.
"Keep me company while I wait for my colleague."
Sasuke gasped softly as his brother slipped one finger under the hem of his kimono. That felt so horribly intimate. He couldn't keep controlling his heart rate to manageable levels -- he could only slow it down to less than "freaking out" levels. If Itachi noticed that -- oh fuck, oh god I hate you, don't touch me there, don't fucking touch me --
"... Yes, sir." There was no way to discreetly get rid of the sheath. If Itachi's hand slipped too high between his thighs, he'd find it, and then his cover would not only be blown to hell and back, but he would have to go on with the knowledge that he'd allowed his murderous bastard of a brother to feel him up like a common whore. Provided Itachi wasn't so disgusted at him for not finding a way out of that situation that he would kill him.
Sasuke had to keep his cover, it was still his best bet. Hoping that Itachi wouldn't immediately take advantage, he let go of his brother's wrist to reach for the tea. Maybe if Itachi started drinking he would get distracted. Or he could pick it up with the hand currently on Sasuke's lap. Yeah, fat chance.
Anyway -- Sasuke had to think elegant, Sakura had drilled it into him. Every gesture carefully controlled, he poured, then pushed the cup toward his brother, only his fingertips pointing out of his long sleeves. And hoped, very, very strongly, that Itachi would take the cup and get his fucking hand off his fucking leg and stop tickling the inside of his thigh; Sasuke was feeling every tiny brush in such intense detail, he could have drawn Itachi's fingerprints. It was too much, too much.
Itachi kept contact with the girl's skin a moment longer, enjoying her nervousness. The corner of his lip twitched up as he watched her try to pretend that she didn't want to squirm free; he took the hint, though, removing his hand for the moment to take the cup with both hands. The girl's reactions... they reminded him of Sasuke's, but they weren't at all what he'd have expected of Sasuke in this situation. It was almost like Sasuke when they had been children...
He snorted at the thought -- Sasuke had been a sweet child even despite his competitive streak, but very definitely a little boy -- and wondered idly how long he had left before Kisame came. Itachi didn't waste his time on random sexual encounters often, but there was something fascinating about the resemblance; something fleeting and teasing that he very much wanted to pinpoint.
Sasuke watched as Itachi took a sip. His hand off Sasuke, attention somewhat turned away -- not entirely, but enough... Sasuke put his own hands on his lap demurely, using his sleeves to hide them, and quickly undid the strap that kept his kunai holster in place. When he shifted a little so that he would face Itachi more, as befitted an attentive hostess, he managed to make it slide off the seat, catching it with his heel to muffle its landing. He nudged the holster under the seat, out of sight. The cloth was dark, and the kunai had been painted black so that the metal wouldn't shine; he hoped that no one would notice it as long as Itachi was here. If it was picked up later, they would only assume that a customer had lost it. He'd be out of a good sheath and six kunai; he could deal with that.
"Is the tea to your liking, sir?"
"It's better than I had expect in a place like this," Itachi replied quietly, and decided to end her short reprieve; she was getting too relaxed. As soon as he set his cup down, his hand slid back into the girl's lap, fingering the short hemline of her kimono. She was soft, over the muscles. Slim.
Exactly how he would have pictured Sasuke as a girl. The suspicion still nagged him.
Sasuke made a soft sound of surprise -- still better than the shocked yell that was trying to come out -- and hung his head, reddening in acute humiliation. He was weaponless and Itachi had his hands all over him. Sasuke had been in more dangerous situations before, but right now he couldn't remember what they were.
"S-sir..." He put his hands on top of Itachi's again, and hoped to god that whoever the bastard was meeting would come by quickly, because the way it was going -- well. He hadn't thought that Itachi would be twisted enough to go for girls who looked like their mother. Sick bastard.
"What?" his brother asked, mocking. "In a place like this, are you going to claim this isn't for sale?" The bastard slipped his fingers under the hem again, teasing the inside of his thigh.
Sasuke couldn't help but glare, but somehow -- thank god his usual expressions were softened so much by the girl's features -- managed to make it look hurt and not murderous... more vulnerable. Then he hung his head; to his great shame, he didn't have to work hard to make his hands shake.
"... I make enough with my salary and -- and the tips. I don't --" He bit his lip again -- he was wondering if there was any lipstick left there -- and looked away. Now what? What should he say? Itachi was still watching him, staring. What if he already knew, and was just mocking him by playing along -- just handing Sasuke more rope to hang himself with? "...I don't."
"I see," Itachi replied, pointedly not moving his hand. "I should apologize then." The girl glanced down at his hand, clearly dubious, but didn't comment out loud, deflating before any words made it out of her mouth.
"... It's. It's alright. I suppose in a place like this..."
Itachi wasn't all that interested in her submission; it had been a given from the start. "...You actually remind me a bit of my brother, in a way. He resembled Mother," he commented, watching closely for a reaction.
Sasuke had been expecting a mention of himself for quite a while, actually, and had the perfect reply all ready. He blinked up at Itachi, puzzled. "Your brother? ... mou, I didn't think I was so unwomanly," he protested softly, and attempted a brave little smile.
"No, you are very feminine," Itachi reassured him -- which really didn't reassure him, argh. Sasuke was playing a role; he should be proud to play it so well, he should be glad... Feminine, hah. "If anything," Itachi added with a slowness that seemed quite deliberate, "I imagine it's my brother who fails at being masculine."
The utter bastard. "Um... Isn't that a little harsh...?" Sasuke mumbled, and then ducked his head as he remembered that, even gently, Saki wouldn't berate a trained killer. What it Itachi had been baiting him? Wait, scratch that, of course he was baiting him. Fuck. "I'm sorry -- it isn't my business, and you're probably right -- sorry."
Itachi wasn't sure. The initial defensiveness... perhaps. But he still wasn't entirely sure. He couldn't kill his brother like he would a tavern girl -- though really, if Sasuke got himself killed like that, it would be too ridiculous for words, and probably proof that he was a disappointment and deserved it.
Still, Itachi wasn't entirely sure, even though his doubt was a little stronger now. Slowly, he slid his finger up the girl's thigh.
"Apology accepted."
The girl yelped and squeezed her thighs together, hands pressed on her lap to prevent him from getting any closer to her groin. She was turning a rather cute shade of tomato-red; he smirked, amused. The silly wench had only managed to trap his fingers between her legs.
"Sir!" she protested, giving him a reproachful look.
He bowed his head perfunctorily, but was totally unapologetic when he replied, "I'm sorry."
Sorry, yeah right, he was all but sorry; but Saki would never, ever call him on it, curse her. Finally Sasuke's brother removed his hand slowly, letting his fingertips ghost over his skin. Sasuke shivered, emitting a strangled little gasp that wasn't entirely fake.
He was so damn disturbed. Why did callused hands have to feel like that to his softer, frailer girl skin? It had been the other way around as a boy!
... Well, mostly. Still.
"T-thank you," he stuttered, and spent a few moments trying to pretend to himself that, for a second, he hadn't been acting.
He picked up the teapot and poured more for Itachi, attempting to regain his composure. What the fuck was the matter with his body?
"I hope I didn't offend you," Itachi offered, still watching her openly. She was flushed and flustered... and attractive that way.
Very like his brother. Even her voice was similar. The thought of taking her sent a jolt to his cock.
"Um. I guess it's... flattering." She gave a shy, forced little smile, avoiding Itachi's eyes. "Besides... I should get used to it. The boss... He tells me I'm too proud to do good work here. Maybe he's right." She played with her sleeves again, her voice so quiet that he almost didn't hear it over the noise of the other customers. "I'm sorry if I offended you. I didn't mean to imply that... Uhm."
"Imply that?" he prompted her, smirking as he drank his tea and eyed her. Unlike the other girls, she wasn't falling out of her kimono. In a way, it only made her more enticing. Itachi had always enjoyed the chase more than the capture; hunting for clues, discovering -- so much left to unveil and learn. Often the end result was a bit of a disappointment; but in the meantime, he was amused.
"That--" Ack. That what? What could Sasuke say? "That your advances were unwelco-- wait, I mean. I mean." Sasuke fidgeted with his sleeve, disgusted at how naive he sounded; but sweet, shy and innocent could work here. "You're not a disgusting old pervert, I guess." He glanced at a few of the drunkards at other tables to make his point. No, Itachi apparently was just the well-hidden sort of pervert. The mommy-complex kind. That was way more than Sasuke had ever wanted to know about him.
The asshole smirked at him, a thin, mocking twist of the lips. Sasuke wanted to rip his smug eyes out. "Then they're welcome?"
"No! That's not what I meant -- I meant --" Sasuke fidgeted again; it seemed to work. At least it gave him something to look at while he thought about his next move. "You didn't... grab me. Or whisper in my ear, with really bad breath. And your hands aren't all sweaty and gross, so it wasn't as awful as it could be, but still... Still. I... don't do that."
Itachi snorted, somewhat disbelieving. Unless this was somehow his brother in a disguise; he could see the little brat as a prude just fine, believing that denying any and all physical desires proved his dedication. There was nothing wrong with satisfying biological urges, so long as one kept his head and didn't allow anyone to manipulate him through sex.
"If you don't do 'that', then you are probably the only one here," he scoffed.
Of course, being entirely ordinary was suspicious in itself -- like all personal quirks had been smoothed out; it gave off an unnatural feel. There was a reason why people tended to believe in slightly unlikely lies; they thought that good lies should be more plausible. But could such a girl really have found her way to such a sordid place, and still seem so untouched? She looked like she wouldn't go very far down these streets before she was raped. Unless the bar owner or a yakuza was family...
The girl blushed and hung her head "... I haven't been here that long. I know I probably will, someday, but... Ah. Would you like more tea?"
"I have plenty," he snorted; maybe she was trying to force him to run to the bathroom. Subtle. "If I were to make a suggestion... I would say that you should try to make your first time with someone other than an old pervert."
Yeah, like the smug creep that he was, right? The fact that Itachi didn't act as overtly dirty as the rest only made him seem creepier. Sasuke bowed politely, refusing to acknowledge the shivers running up his back at Itachi's low, purring, suggestive voice.
"I will consider your suggestion, sir." Yeah. No.
When was Itachi going to let him go? Wasn't he getting tired of teasing -- didn't he have a meeting or something? Sasuke wanted out of here so very badly, but if he was too blatant in his means of escape, he may as well admit who he was out loud.
"What's your name?"
Sasuke blinked up at him. "Saki, sir." He was glad to have practiced so much; it rolled off his tongue naturally. But he had chosen a similar-sounding name to be sure that he would remember to answer to it, and now Itachi was probably adding it to his growing list of amazing coincidences.
"Saki," Itachi repeated slowly, as if tasting the name. "You aren't at all interested in me then, Saki?"
Sasuke remembered the feel of the bastard's hand, and his whole face and neck decided to go up in flames. "Ah -- I'm sorry..." he replied, bowing hurriedly, not so much in apology as because if he looked at Itachi a second longer he would just die.
"What are you sorry for?" Itachi replied, arching an eyebrow. "For not being interested?"
Bastard was doubting him. Sasuke could read it clearly on his face. He tugged on the sleeves of his kimono nervously to give himself a second. "... Yes... um." He sighed and gave Itachi a sheepish, embarrassed little smile -- he hated looking into Itachi's eyes so much. "I'm not really that good at keeping you company, am I. Is there anything I can do?"
"I'm sure there are plenty of things you can do," his brother retorted smoothly, and slid closer to him so their thighs would touch. Sasuke gulped nervously. Okay, that had probably been a bit too open an invitation. He didn't jerk away, though, even as Itachi's hand returned to his knee -- he wasn't supposed to be that much of a prude.
"Sir..."
He sighed again, defeated for now, and put his hands in his lap to block Itachi, in case his hand traveled too high up again.
It was disturbing to realize how excruciatingly aware of the smallest twitch he was. And when Itachi squeezed Sasuke's knee, leaning into him, Sasuke closed his eyes. He would have preferred a punch, or a nerve pinch; the knowing caresses were getting to him in all the wrong ways. He turned his head away shyly -- way too conscious of the way the gesture bared the pale skin of his neck, and hating that he couldn't just shove Itachi off and leave.
"You ... don't take 'no' for an answer, do you?"
"Not when there's no conviction in it," Itachi replied, letting his breath waft over her neck, watching how it disturbed her hair. The bun seemed so heavy; he wondered how long her hair was. Somehow, she even smelled like Sasuke should, if he were a girl; like kin and like smoke. It was infuriating and arousing at once.
Sasuke shivered, eyes widening slightly. "W-what do you mean?" Like hell there was no conviction in it! "I just didn't want to offend you..."
"You haven't offended me," the bastard reassured Sasuke softly, and insinuated his hand between his knees. Sasuke actually squealed in surprise, then blushed, mortified. What the fuck was that sound? Okay, his throat was different, but it disturbed him that he could make that kind of sound without thinking. But -- it wasn't time to slip out of his persona yet. "Sir!" he protested, squirming slightly.
Itachi's hand was strangely warm and strong. Sasuke remembered it petting his hair and punching him in the chest, breaking ribs, and he didn't know if the twisty feeling in his guts was good or bad. It should have been unquestioningly bad; the mere fact that there was any doubt was disturbing.
Itachi was tempted to go for her breast, but that would have been less discreet -- the table hid his groping admirably. "Do you not like my touching you?" he whispered into her hair as he rubbed up the inside of her thigh.
Her hair reminded him of his mother's, so heavy, and of Sasuke's. That dark, blue black. A part of him wanted to bury his hand in her hair and tug, exposing that white neck, seeing what noises she'd make then, with her throat bared to him...
"I --"
Sasuke trembled, feeling the twisting in his guts shift to good. Very good. He couldn't be -- he couldn't feel anything nice from his brother's touch, he just couldn't. It was his body, stupid body that told him that stuff felt good which shouldn't have, and didn't like stuff that Sasuke used to like, and was so stupidly frailer and smaller and vulnerable and unbalanced. Oh, and the hormonal shifts. No wonder Naruto was such a freak; inventing something so messed up during his preteen years.
It didn't mean anything. It was purely physical; not his fault.
"... I..."
His throat was dry. He couldn't speak. He licked his lips quickly, swallowed nervously. Itachi was so close, and so -- he didn't know -- predatory... anticipating -- stuff, that Sasuke was doing his best not to think about, lest he freak out.
"It isn't... awful, I guess, but -- please, sir..."
Itachi brushed the girl's hair back with his other hand, and leaned in closer. "Please?" he repeated, letting his breath caress her skin. His fingers were roaming dangerously high under the girl's kimono, but she only squirmed and blushed more. He wondered if she would actually stop him, this time...
"Oi, Itachi-san!"
Sasuke jerked when he hear the voice, and grabbed Itachi's hand to hold it in place, mortified. Great, now another of Itachi's friends would see him like that. He looked up at the man standing by the booth... and up... Fuck, he was huge. That was the blue guy, Sasuke vaguely remembered him in the background from their last meeting... He offered a little gasp, to keep in character.
"Do we have the time to spare to play with a whore?" the blue guy commented, arching an eyebrow.
Now the girl looked hurt, flinching at being called a whore. Itachi allowed himself to be pushed away, letting his fingers trail on her skin in a light caress. "...No, Kisame. There's no time for that."
He almost regretted letting her go; but he had his priorities.
Sasuke slipped out of the booth, and bowed politely, grateful for the interruption. He could probably hang around and hear more, but he was pretty sure they'd have no problem offing him if they believed he knew anything at all. It wasn't worth the risk.
...He was only justifying his running away instead of doing his job, but he didn't give a flying fuck. He'd gone above and beyond the call of duty right now. He picked up his tray, holding it close to his chest again.
"Can I get you anything, sir?"
The other Akatsuki eyed him up and down, and then smirked. "I think I'd like what he was having."
Sasuke looked down at the floor; if he looked up right now his eyes would probably be red. Outsmarting his brother, dealing with the shame and the manhandling -- that was more than enough to take from Itachi. Sasuke couldn't take it from a blue-skinned, cocky bitch with weird fish eyes and a superior, lecherous smirk.
"He won't be having anything," he snapped, throwing some money on the table. "Leave us."
Sasuke cringed, and snatched the money before bowing a last time to Itachi and retreating. The kimono made it hard to take a deep, relieved breath, however much he wanted to. He was careful to walk properly this time, in case they were watching -- and that included letting his hips roll the way they wanted to. He didn't let anyone else stop him.
Thank god he was safe now. He took a moment in the staff room to calm down, then realized with regret that he had to come back out -- his shift wasn't finished yet and it would be suspicious to disappear so fast. But he was going to make sure that he wouldn't be anywhere near Itachi's side of the room.
If Emi tried to drag him away from his tables again, he would ram a Chidori up her ass. Bitch.
+
Kisame eyed the little waitress speculatively as she left. She was pretty, sure, but her tits could be bigger... not all that great. Sort of boyish, which actually wasn't all that surprising. He rarely saw his partner with full-figured women; Itachi's tastes seemed to run more toward petite and androgynous.
He sat down in front of Itachi and arched an eyebrow in a silent question. Itachi frowned faintly, and didn't reply; no matter, Kisame didn't see a problem with asking out loud.
"Since when does your brother go around in drag, Itachi-san?"
"The resemblance is uncanny, isn't it?" Itachi commented noncommittally.
Kisame nodded thoughtfully. "If the jaw wasn't just a bit too narrow, it could almost be good makeup..." The bone structure was wrong, though. "But if it was a henge, why would he make himself look that much like himself? And if it was a genjutsu, you'd see through it." Kisame paused to consider the mystery, then shrugged. "Probably a bastard child. Are you going to kill her too?" he asked idly.
"I haven't decided yet," Itachi replied quietly, taking a sip of his tea, willing his cock down.
Kisame smirked, gave him a look that held a touch more mockery than the shark-man usually directed his way. Itachi knew what he was thinking, though -- he found it amusing that Itachi could feel something as common as physical attraction, enough to make him indecisive.
His brother or not, the girl wouldn't go far; either Sasuke was undercover or Saki had no real reason to run off. Later, Itachi would see if he still felt like unveiling her mystery.
His eyes narrowed as he put the whole matter aside.
"... Let's talk business."