Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/147022.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Naruto
  Relationship:
      Hoshigaki_Kisame/Uchiha_Itachi
  Character:
      Hoshigaki_Kisame, Uchiha_Itachi
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-08-01 Words: 2375
****** Taken or Gay ******
by Chichirinoda
Summary
     Kisame decides to teach his new young charge, Itachi, the ways of the
     world.
Notes
     Written for
     [[community profile] ]
kink_bingo, for the prompt "Humiliation (situational)".
Itachi realized he had been staring up at the brothel in dismay for too long
when Kisame's rough hand fell heavily onto his shoulder and he heard a rumble
of laughter. "No need to be shy, Itachi-san," the man said. "This is the best
brothel this side of the Fire country. I promise, we can get your cherry popped
in here just from you taking a breath of the air inside."
Considering the subject matter, and the fact that Itachi was - so far as he
knew - less than half of Kisame's age, the shark-man's manner towards him was
strangely formal. But then, Kisame always spoke like that. Itachi suspected
that it was that politeness - coupled with his own manners which had been quite
thoroughly inculcated into him by his father - which sealed his lips together,
protest unspoken, as Kisame steered him through the door and into the lobby of
the building.
That, and the fact that he simply had little energy to protest anything at the
moment.
It had only been a few weeks since he was handed over to Kisame and made his
partner. The red and black cloak still hung awkwardly on his shoulders and the
ring on his hand glittered without a speck of tarnish. He remembered little of
that first week, except for Kisame's quiet attempts to speak to him, and his
own disinterest in giving any kind of response.
After that first week, though, his desire to hold himself aloof from the
criminals had finally given way to an unexpected feeling of guilt at Kisame's
strange kindness. He had begun to speak, to come out of the shell that grief
and pain and trauma had driven him into.
That had apparently been a mistake, since Kisame had apparently concluded that
his tactics were working, and that it was time to take it to the next level.
Before he could get his mouth working again, a middle-aged woman wearing powder
on her face and her hair bound up in an elaborate style shuffled out to greet
them. Her eyes flicked nervously over Kisame and then down at the boy in his
early teens with the red eyes, and she bowed deeply.
"Kisame-sama has brought a friend today, I see?" she said with a smile. "Would
you like your usual?"
Itachi shot a glance up at the older man, shocked that he came here often
enough to have a 'usual'. Kisame squeezed his shoulder even as he responded to
the hostess, as if warning him not to speak. "I would, yes. And is Mika
available? I think she'll do well for my friend here."
"Of course, Kisame-sama," the woman said, bowing again as she drew back.
They were led through the house to a private room, where four women waited with
sake and music to entertain them. One of them was obviously young, or perhaps
maintained the look of underage youth with the help of makeup and bearing, as
her breasts were full and firm as she pushed them up against his arm.
Horrified and stunned that they apparently were expected to do this in plain
view of the others, Itachi reluctantly allowed himself to be drawn down onto
the couch next to Kisame and plied with sake.
And the nightmare began.
While Kisame drank and the women flattered him, obviously knowing him well
enough - or well-paid enough - not to be put off by his dangerous appearance or
the enormous sword that was always kept close to hand, Itachi sat and attempted
to fend off the girl at his side.
It wasn't that she wasn't pretty. He could see enough of her breasts to know
they were round and full and likely flawless. Her shape, what little of it he
could discern through the brightly-coloured silk wrapping, was pleasingly
slender and shapely. And it wasn't that he had anything against whores - he'd
never really thought much about them at all, in fact, but he knew they served
an important purpose.
But despite all that, he simply hunched his shoulders and refused the sake, and
tried to keep her off of him without becoming too harsh.
It didn't take long for Kisame to notice something was wrong. The bigger man
shoved a cup of sake under Itachi's nose. "Loosen up, kid," he said. "She's not
going to bite. What are you afraid of?"
Itachi pushed the hand away irritably, inching away from Kisame along the
length of the couch. "I'm not afraid," he said coldly.
"Shy, then," Kisame said with a chuckle that rumbled through his throat. He
waved vaguely, seeming to take in all of Itachi with one sweep of his hand.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Itachi-san."
Itachi could feel his cheeks warming and wished he could sink through the
floor. "Please, don't let me ruin your enjoyment, Kisame-san," he said through
clenched teeth. "I'm happy to sit here quietly until you're finished. We're
supposed to stay together, after all."
"Are you blushing?" Kisame replied, to Itachi's further mortification.
A calloused finger touched Itachi on the cheek, making him start in surprise.
He jerked his head upwards, looking up at Kisame as the older man traced the
finger down his cheek with a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Please, Kisame-san," he said, his voice a little breathless now. "Pay no
attention to me. Enjoy all of them, if you wish. I don't care."
All he wanted was for this humiliating experience to be over. He knew what was
wrong, but he saw no reason to explore it further for Kisame's benefit.
Kisame's arm slipped around behind his shoulders, and Itachi nearly leaped off
of the couch completely. He tensed until his muscles vibrated, hating to have
the near-stranger, a stranger he knew to be a murderer and a criminal, so
intimately close. Kisame placed his lips so close to Itachi's ear that he could
feel his breath, and he struggled in vain to repress a shiver.
"Trust me, Itachi-san. You'll feel a lot better afterwards. There's really
nothing to be afraid of. I lost mine in this exact place. Even if you're
terrible in bed, the girls know how to teach you, and they'll never laugh."
"I'm not terrible in bed!" Itachi snapped hotly, his cheeks blazing with a
mixture of infuriation and embarrassment. And the girls promptly made Kisame a
liar, by tittering behind their fans at the outburst.
Kisame blinked and sat up. "Wait, you've been with a woman before?"
"...No," Itachi said through clenched teeth.
There was a moment of silence, then Kisame made a gesture with one hand. The
four women bowed and withdrew from the room, and Itachi hunched a little lower
in his seat. He had never been ashamed of his own proclivities, except for one
time when his father had found out about Shisui and lectured him for several
hours about his duties to his clan to procreate and that if he wanted to deal
with his urges that way it was fine so long as he still produced sons.
He figured that issue was irrelevant now, but he still felt that same sinking
feeling as Kisame gazed at him. This time, though, he waited for the shark man
to laugh, and wondered why the older man had the power to make him care what he
thought.
But no laugh came. Kisame's lips twisted up in a wry smile, and he leaned
forward again, his arm slipping further around Itachi's shoulders once more.
"Well well, I suppose what they say is true, isn't it Itachi-san?"
Itachi leaned back away, but was stopped by the arm of the couch. He considered
punching Kisame in the face and making his escape, but he wasn't getting a
dangerous vibe from him. Though the truth was, the main thing that stopped him
was the blood flowing rapidly southward. He was pretty sure that running would
be uncomfortable at the moment.
"What's that, Kisame-san?" he asked uncertainly, raising a hand and pressing it
to the middle of Kisame's chest, as if it would ward him off.
"That the best men are either taken...or gay," Kisame said, and the best
description for his tone that Itachi could come up with was a purr, though he
was pretty sure that sharks didn't make a sound like that.
Then Kisame's lips covered his and he found himself kissing the older man with
no memory of having made a decision to do so.
He let it go on for a few heart-pounding seconds, then began to struggle.
Kisame was ready for him, and grabbed both of his wrists before he could go for
kunai. They fought a pitched battle for a moment, teeth clacking together as
Itachi tried to get a leg up or wrench his wrists free, but Kisame was
physically stronger than him and had an inherent advantage at such close
quarters. Amidst that brief struggle, Itachi slipped off of the couch and
landed hard on his back on the floor, with Kisame straddling his hips and his
wrists pinned to the tatami under him.
He realized that his eyes were closed and opened them, Sharingan swirling to
pinwheel shapes, but Kisame lifted up and hooked his leg around him in a deft
and probably practiced gesture. In an instant, Itachi found himself face down
on the floor, his arms twisted behind his back and pinned by a single massive
hand wrapped about both wrists, the other hand pressing into his neck to keep
his head down.
"Ah... sorry, but I don't want to hurt you, Itachi-san," Kisame murmured. "And
I really don't want you to use those incredible eyes on me."
"Let me go, Kisame," Itachi growled into the tatami. He went limp despite his
words, conserving his strength and waiting for an opportunity to turn the
tables. Inwardly, he cursed himself. How could he have let Kisame get so close?
He had forgotten, for a crucial few moments, that the man was a criminal, a
murderer, and not to be trusted.
"You are feisty," Kisame said with a soft laugh. "But I'm not letting you go
when you're so mad at me. You might hurt me. Besides..."
The hand at the back of Itachi's neck moved. First he grabbed Itachi's scarred
hitai-ate and tugged it down. Itachi jerked his head, trying to stop him, but
the fabric slid over his eyes and he was effectively blindfolded. Kisame's hand
moved downwards, sliding down his side and drawing his hips up with a quick tug
to Itachi's waistband. Then he felt the hand cup his groin, and Itachi hissed
in shock and anger.
"...I'm not sure you're really not enjoying the hell out of this, Itachi-san."
"Don't flatter yourself," Itachi replied caustically, hearing the tremor in his
voice and trying to convince himself that it was all anger. He wasn't afraid.
Nothing that Kisame could do to him was worse than anything he'd experienced
before. There was no need to be afraid.
Kisame only rumbled a strangely gentle-sounding laugh and continued to rub his
palm against Itachi's groin, stroking through the thin fabric of his shorts.
Itachi squeezed his eyes shut tightly and struggled against his own body. With
his eyes blindfolded, it was hard not to focus on the physical sensations - the
ache in his shoulders as Kisame pinned his arms, the weight of the bigger man
on his lower legs, trapping him, the warm liquid pleasure that spread through
his lower body as Kisame massaged his cock.
"Kisame...stop this," he tried one more time, but the words sounded too much
like a plea for his comfort.
"It's all right," Kisame murmured. Why did he sound so gentle? So kind when he
was violating Itachi's body against his will? "Itachi-san, just relax. I won't
hurt you."
Calloused fingers tugged Itachi's shorts down, baring his ass, and he wondered
if the girls were still watching, wondered if they were laughing behind their
fans at him as he was raped. His cheeks burned with humiliation, but his cock
flushed even harder.
Slowly, his breathing began to quicken, and he shifted his hips, jerking them
forward a little as soft, needy gasps escaped his lips. He couldn't repress
them, couldn't keep silent though he struggled with all of his might to remain
aloof.
"Yes... yes there we go," Kisame murmured. "Let go, kid. Stop trying to be so
damned strong."
"I...I have to...stay strong," Itachi panted.
"Not right now."
Moments later he gave a soft cry as climax hit. Fluid spattered the tatami
beneath him, and he writhed in Kisame's grasp, spasming as waves of pleasure
crashed over him. He felt himself being hauled upwards, and Kisame wrapped both
arms around him, holding him against his chest.
Tears pricked his eyes, soaking into the fabric of his hitai-ate. It wasn't
that the orgasm was so intense - it was good, but he'd had better. But still
tears flowed, painful, poisonous tears, and the shudders of pleasure slowly
turned to shudders of repressed sobs.
Kisame said nothing, a silent, warm presence as Itachi purged a bit more of the
venom inside him.
Only when the shudders finally ceased did Itachi realize that he was seated
sideways in Kisame's lap, fully clothed once more, with his head tucked under
the other man's chin, and his hands were free. He reached up and pulled the
hitai-ate off, turning it over in his fingers.
"Feel better?" Kisame rumbled softly.
Itachi blinked away the last tears, brought forth more by the sudden light
stabbing into his eyes than by grief. He glanced around furtively, but despite
his fears they appeared to be alone.
"I suppose so," he said lamely, having to acknowledge that he did feel better.
He felt wrung out like a sponge, but some tiny part of his pain had been
purged, even if it had been a singularly embarrassing way to do it.
"Good."
Itachi lifted his head, meeting Kisame's gaze, and he was pleased to see the
older man hesitate before looking into his eyes. "Do that again, Kisame-san,
and you'll never sleep again for fear of my knife finding you," he said
solemnly.
Kisame grinned, and there was neither malice, nor mockery in that smile. "Of
course, Itachi-san."
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