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It was no secret that the Uchiha were a secretive clan. They kept their dojutsu closely guarded and all its derivatives a secret, locked behind scrolls that only their eyes could see. And of those, even fewer still could unlock the secrets hidden in those scrolls.
So it would not be surprising that they relied on tradition, and that tradition extended to the presentation of their secondary gender.
After Itachi had presented as an omega, his role as the heir to the clan changed–Uchiha omegas existed only to further the bloodline, unable to even consider being able to mate or marry for love. Not that Itachi had ever cared about any of that. He’d been considered the village’s greatest prodigy since Hatake Kakashi, and he was being raised to form a link between village and clan. What were more duties?
Itachi hated the clan’s numerous rules and traditions but thankfully they didn’t stop him from meeting someone he wanted to spend the rest of his days with. It was in a clearing that the two of them met, next to the rushing body of the Naka River. Itachi was too young to present–so their relationship was always innocent, until it wasn’t. Years later when their sparring became a little more heated, they found more and more excuses to touch each other. Passing touches, a flick of the hair, a pat on the shoulder, resting against each other when they were both too tired to go back home.
Itachi would never be able to say when it really began, his feelings were always there, but it truly started for him one summer after his thirteenth birthday. He and Shisui were lying on the grass and Itachi watched him laugh. And though the sun was high in the sky–Shisui was the brightest thing he had ever seen.
This was love, he realized. The answer to the question he’d asked since the day he’d stepped onto the battlefield with his father. About what the meaning of life is–if life is pain, what makes it worth living? It was for moments like this, Itachi realized, aa he turned to lean on his elbow, glancing down at Shisui. His hair hung down to cover them like a curtain, blocking off a private moment reserved just for the two of them.
He leaned down and pressed his lips against Shisui’s, and Shisui responded, lifting a hand to card through Itachi’s hair.
And it felt right.
Everything seemed to slot into place–and he found his body had decided that moment to present. But it was not the pain that people had always said it would be. He felt a deep warmth grow from his stomach, blooming into his chest. Shisui rolled them over, leaning over Itachi and smiling gently as he looked at him.
“Omega?” he asked.
Itachi nodded. “Seems so.”
And though Shisui would later say this was the hardest moment of his life, he stood up, lifting Itachi easily. “Then let’s get you home.”
He didn’t do anything untoward–would never dream of deflowering the heir to the Uchiha clan like this. His bonding would be a ritual decided by the family.
Itachi spent his first heat, as all Uchiha omegas do, with his mother. Mikoto would be responsible for teaching him about his changing body, expectations, and the new role he’d fulfill for the clan. His duty was to bring more sharingan users into the world. And as the son of the head of the clan–people would be looking to him to do just that. So he was resigned to whomever his father would choose for him to be mated off to–even though his heart yearned for one person.
“Don’t worry about it,” Shisui said as they sat down after training. “I have a feeling things are going to work out.”
“How do you know?” Itachi asked, a little too aware of the fact that they’re so close together. He could feel the body heat radiating off of Shisui, smell the heady combination of scents–a mixture of leather, oil, and jasmine–that tantalized him, and he could almost taste the sweat soaked skin of Shisui’s neck.
But he kept to himself, caging his desire within his body. He wasn’t allowed to have desires, wasn’t allowed to have wants. Everything was for the clan–for their future. His parents had made that very clear and Itachi was glad to do it because that would mean that Sasuke would be able to live a life unrestrained by the family traditions. Itachi’s sacrifice would free Sasuke from the arduous burden that shackled Itachi down to a future he did not have any control over.
The suitors began in earnest a mere few months after he presented. People hailing from different clans with second sons–second sons who would not inherit their clan’s name, but could make a name for themselves mating with the Uchiha clan’s eldest son.
They would be giving up their name, but as Itachi’s alpha, Itachi suspected that they assumed that they would gain dominion over him in exchange. They would expect to assert their will and have him bow gracefully to them, grateful that they would even humor him with children.
But his parents were not cruel, and allowed him this one freedom. One by one, at Itachi’s behest, the suitors were turned away for one reason or another. (Too loud, too quiet, too forceful, too passive, overly diplomatic, not diplomatic enough to name a few)
One suitor marched out almost thirty seconds after Itachi had requested a private word with him, looking flustered and annoyed. Itachi was kneeling behind the table, pouring his tea quietly into the cup in front of him, his lips quirked up in a small smile .
“This is impossible,” the suitor sneered, looking at an exasperated Fugaku, and a tired Mikoto. “It’s clear he’s not fit to be an omega, let alone anyone’s mate,” he said before sliding on his shoes and stomping out the door.
Mikoto sat next to Itachi, allowing him to pour her some tea. She took a sip and then turned to face him. He was now a year older than he was when he’d presented, fourteen years of age. “You’re still young,” she said. “But I wasn’t much older than you when my bond was decided. You’re wise beyond your years, but you have a duty to fulfill, remember that.”
It seemed though, that luck smiled down on him, for the next day, Itachi saw a familiar figure coming up the pathway. Broad shoulders, accompanied by a smile that even a blind man could see, Itachi couldn’t help but smile back, though there was confusion in his expression. They never met at Itachi’s home, Shisui had only crossed the gate once before and that was to bring Itachi home after he’d first presented.
“What are you doing here?” Itachi asked, stepping forward to greet him. He didn’t touch, but he yearned. He wanted, more than anything, to wrap his arms around him and never let go.
Shisui laughed. “I’m not actually here to see you,” he said, though there was that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. Something Itachi had grown intimately familiar with and he knew exactly what Shisui was about to do–he was about to blindside him.
“I wanted to see your father,” he said.
“I’m here,” came a gruff voice from behind Itachi. Itachi stepped to the side, trying to keep his heart rate down as it pounded against his ribcage. “Shisui–you’re from Kagami’s branch, are you not?” Fugaku asked, stepping behind Itachi, a formidable figure in his own right.
Shisui nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said, dropping down on his knee to pay his respects to the head of the clan. “I’m a jounin, and have recently been nominated to the jounin council,” he said, his eyes glittering as he looked at Itachi. “And I’m here to express my interest in Itachi’s hand. To take him as my mate, and my partner for the rest of my days. Fugaku, sir, I love your son, I’ve been in love with him since the moment he stepped into my life, and I could not stop loving him more than I could stop breathing,” he said, his eyes never leaving Itachi’s gaze. He’d clearly practiced this speech. “So please, if you would allow me the honor, Itachi–would you take my hand, walk alongside me for the rest of our lives?”
Itachi’s eyes widened–he definitely did not see this coming. Shisui was not honor bound to fulfill any clan duties, he was blessedly free from that, but if he were to bond with Itachi, he would be imprisoning himself into a cell, locked in by oppressive traditions.
But–Itachi would be his, and he would be Itachi’s. And that’s what they already were. He flushed a slight shade of pink, glancing away, embarrassed that their rituals and traditions were so arcane.
“What do you make of that Itachi?” Fugaku asked, looking down at his eldest son.
Itachi took a deep breath, though he couldn’t help the corners of his lips turning up. Shisui had kept quiet all this time, the devil, building up his ranks so he could come forward with social capital. With a position to boost his rankings.
But Itachi’s answer had been cemented since the day a year ago when he’d first tasted the meaning of his life on Shisui’s lips. When they’d breathed in the same air. When Shisui had lifted him up, and promised to keep him safe.
“If you will allow it, father,” Itachi said. “I would most wholeheartedly accept.”
Fugaku nodded once, stepping back. He glanced over at Mikoto who nodded, she’d stay outside to chaperone, as was appropriate. She sat down on the engawa, a little distance away, so that Itachi could have his privacy with his newly betrothed.
Itachi didn’t care, he stepped forward, taking both Shisui’s hands in his, a gleam in his eyes when he squeezed.
Shisui pulled a hand away, lifting it up to tuck a strand of hair behind Itachi’s ear. And then for good measure, he bounced his ponytail.
Itachi glared at him for that. But it didn’t last long, because his heart was so full, he found himself smiling without intending to. He’d always forced a smile–or a grimace–to get through his duties as the eldest son and omega-heir. But now, even though he was participating in a centuries old tradition, he was irrevocably and completely happy.
“May I kiss you?” Shisui asked, putting on a facade of being a respectable alpha who didn’t spend every moment of his leisure time kicking Itachi’s ass up and down the riverbank.
Itachi nodded. “Yes, alpha, you may,” he said, tilting his nose up and smirking.
He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Itachi’s cheek, but ducked down to whisper in his ear “Tonight, sunset, the river,” he said. “Tell them you have a mission. You won’t be back tonight.”
Itachi felt a shiver run down his spine as he looked up at Shisui, his eyes dark as he nodded his understanding. Of course he’d be there.
Shisui leaned down to kiss his hand, and Itachi couldn’t help the growing blush across his cheeks. Shisui was absolutely insatiable–though–he imagined he’d find out just how insatiable he was that night with his whispered promise.
“I’ll take my leave,” Shisui said, cupping Itachi’s cheek once before nodding back to Mikoto. “My betrothed,” he said, once more dipping down to press his lips against Itachi’s knuckles.
His hands were calloused from his near constant practice with the blade, his knuckles scarred from numerous injuries he’d had on missions. But Shisui, in one fell swoop, made him feel like an untouched maiden.
He watched him leave, a smile over his lips.
“Nii san!” He heard his brother cry out, running out into the yard.
He turned, his expression fond as he looked at Sasuke, racing to show him something.
Life, it seemed, was beginning to make sense to him. It was these moments that made the pain worth it. These small moments of joy. Sasuke’s laugh and Shisui’s smile would keep Itachi alive for the rest of his days. And he wouldn’t change a moment of his life.
—
After Sasuke had shown him all the neat things he’d learned in school, and Itachi corrected his posture through the various katas, Itachi reported to his father.
Things with the village were–tense to say the least. But luckily, through sheer force of his and Shisui’s efforts, they averted disaster, and things had been slowly rebuilding. Fugaku had even gotten a seat on the village council, though it was a non-voting seat. It was a start, and it kept him busy, too busy to continue sowing discontent among the clan.
Itachi knelt down in front of his father where he sat.
“I’ve been assigned a mission,” he said. “I will return home tomorrow.”
Fugaku huffed out a sigh. Fugaku knew there was no mission, he was no idiot. But it was easier to pretend. “Be careful,” his father said.
Itachi nodded. After all–nothing permanent could happen outside of his heat.
Fugaku nodded once. Itachi had proven himself trustworthy, and he’d grown more protective of his son since he presented as an omega. Possibly some alpha instinct, Itachi reasoned. He did seem relieved that the parade of suitors was at its end.
“This weekend we will announce your betrothal,” he said. “Make sure you’re here for that.”
“Yes,” Itachi said, “Yes of course.”
He packed his things while Sasuke sulked in the corner.
“So what does this mean, you go live with Shisui now?” Sasuke asked, his arms crossed over his chest.
Itachi nodded. “Yes, I presume we’ll have our own house,” he said, making sure his storage scroll would fit the things he would need for his absolutely bona fide mission.
“So you’ll get more ways to blow me off,” Sasuke grumbled. Though he didn’t leave the room, his legs were pulled up to his chest and he hugged his knees.
Itachi glanced over at Sasuke. Averting the coup had the unintended consequence of causing Sasuke to feel like he was left by the wayside. But Itachi did not regret it–he would much rather Sasuke was alive, safe, and resentful, rather than dead, or alone. It was a price he’d been willing to pay, but he couldn’t deny the ache that he felt.
“Sasuke,” he said, chiding. He moved to sit next to him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “You know I love you very much.” he told him.
Sasuke slumped into his side, like the strings that had been holding him up were cut. Itachi felt the side of his shirt dampen with Sasuke’s tears. He chuckled a little under his breath.
“Foolish little brother,” he said, though it was fond. “I promised you that no matter what, I will always be there for you.” He placed a hand under Sasuke’s chin and tilted it up, his thumb brushing away his angry tears.
He lifted two fingers to press against his forehead, but pulled away at the last minute, pressing his forehead to Sasuke’s.
“My betrothal does not replace my relationship to you, nor will it ever,” he said, closing his eyes as he rested against his little brother, his fingers carding through his hair.
Sasuke hiccuped, though his tears stopped falling, the contact with Itachi apparently quelling the unease rising in his gut.
Itachi smiled gently before allowing Sasuke to scent him–a bonding method between mother and child–but Itachi had found himself playing this role for Sasuke since his earliest days. Mikoto had been busy with being the clan matriarch, so Itachi stepped in to guide Sasuke through his life.
It must have been hard when Itachi had to put Sasuke’s immediate needs aside to focus on keeping him alive, but Itachi didn’t regret that for a second.
“I will be home tomorrow,” he promised, once Sasuke had calmed down enough, basking in Itachi’s scent.
Sasuke nodded. “Can we–spar tomorrow?” he asked, his voice cracking as he fought not to break down into more tears.
Itachi nodded, “I will try,” he promised before he stood to seal his belongings inside the storage scroll.
He fit the scroll into his pocket before heading toward his door, turning around to lift a hand and wave to his little brother.
As soon as he left the house, he jumped into the trees, jumping along from branch to branch. He was late to meet Shisui now. Shisui had told him to meet at sunset, but already the sun's golden glow was beginning to fade away, casting the forest in shades of muted greens and grays.
He landed by the riverbank, glancing around when he was tugged to the side, a familiar scent enveloping him as he sunk into the warm solid hold of his alpha. (His!)
“You lowered your guard,” Shisui said, leaning down to whisper into his ear.
Itachi shuddered. It was true–he hadn’t checked his surroundings, he was so excited to see his betrothed, he’d forgotten the cardinal rule of being a shinobi. But–he found he didn’t care.
“I’m not here as a shinobi right now,” Itachi responded, turning in his arms and wrapping his arms around Shisui’s neck.
Shisui brushed his nose against Itachi’s neck. “Never lower your guard,” he said. Partially teasing, but there was concern in his voice. “No matter who it’s for.”
Itachi nodded once. “Yes, alpha,” he said, his dark eyes peering up into Shisui’s.
Shisui couldn’t keep up the facade of being his mentor any longer, and he pushed him up against a tree and leaned down to capture Itachi’s lips in a searing kiss.
This was different from their kiss a year ago. This was heated . Desire pooled in Itachi’s stomach as he responded to the kiss, drowning himself in Shisui’s scent. When they broke apart, Shisui immediately kissed down his neck, his hands drifting down to the swell of his ass, squeezing.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” Shisui asked, his breathing ragged as he turned on his sharingan to capture Itachi’s every movement. Itachi’s cheeks were flushed, his lips kiss-swollen, and Shisui had pulled the tie from his hair so he could grasp the strands..
Itachi looked up at him, cupping his cheek. “I didn’t think this was going to be possible for us.”
Shisui smiled softly. “I couldn’t go to your father when I didn’t have a position on the council,” he said. “I wanted to make sure he couldn’t say no.”
Itachi smiled, cupping his cheek. “You did so much–if I had known of your interest. I would have–” What? Left a similar fate to Sasuke?
Shisui shook his head sadly. “No–you wouldn’t have Ita,” he said, playing idly with Itachi’s hair.
“I would have wanted to,” Itachi countered, surging up to capture Shisui’s lip in a desperate kiss which Shisui responded to with enthusiasm.
“But now you never have to,” he said. “You’re mine now. And I’m yours,” he said.
Itachi laughed. “Thank the fates for that,” he said. “I was running out of reasons to decline the parade of suitors. I knew I was running out of time–”
Shisui plopped himself down next to the river, his legs dangling over the cliff. “Did you really tell someone that–” he took a breath before tugging Itachi down to sit next to him. “Hm. What was it again? ‘That you seem better suited to finding your own alpha?’” he asked.
Itachi glanced down, his lips curving in a barely-there smile. “I accused the one after him of overcompensating for something–possibly the lack of a knot.”
Shisui snorted, throwing his head back to laugh as he looked over at Itachi. “Well–you bought me enough time to get everything in order.” He threaded their fingers together, looking up at the stars which had begun to blanket the night sky. “I was scared I wouldn’t get there in time,” he admitted. “That someone better would come along and I would lose you.”
Itachi scoffed. “There’s no one better,” he said, while shaking his head. It was a fact. To call Shisui a prodigy would be an insult to his abilities. What he had in natural talent was overshadowed with ambition and drive. Every single achievement he’d accomplished was the result of strict discipline, work, and a desire to succeed.
No one could outshine Shisui, he was the brightest star in Itachi’s sky. Itachi often fell back on natural talent, but Shisui had taught him it was insufficient to rely on just that. Even though he was preternaturally gifted, that gift would need to be constantly nurtured, reinforced, and allowed to grow. So when Itachi said there was no one better, it wasn’t just a meaningless platitude.
The flush on Shisui’s cheeks indicated that he didn’t think so either. Itachi never wasted words, spoke nothing but what was in his heart. If he was praising Shisui, it was because Shisui had earned it.
“So what now?” Itachi asked.
“The rest of our lives, I think,” Shisui responded.
Itachi shoved his shoulder. “You said I wouldn’t be returning home tonight,” he said. “Naturally I assumed you had something planned.”
Shisui grinned. “Yeah,” he said, glancing at Itachi out of the corner of his eye. He hoisted himself up and held out his hand to help Itachi.
Itachi took it, twining their fingers together as he stood, brushing the grass from the back of his pants.
Shisui led him a little ways up the river, back towards the village, before he cut a right up a narrow path. The path widened and Itachi could hear the sounds of the village on the other side of the thin curtain of trees. He glanced up and saw a single story house.
It’s at the very edge of their ancestral lands, but still out of the way that it’d be private.
“I’ve been fixing up this place– I thought it could be our house,” Shisui said, glancing over to gaugeItachi’s reaction.
Itachi’s eyes were bright when he realized how long Shisui had been planning this. He threw his arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a deep kiss, to which Shisui answered with enthusiasm, his arms wrapping around Itachi’s waist. “Wait–lemme give you the tour first,” he said.
Itachi shook his head. “That can wait.” He took Shisui’s hand. “Is it furnished?” he asked.
Shisui nodded. “Yeah–at least–the bedroom is.”
“That’s all we need,” Itachi said, walking backwards as he tugged Shisui’s hand, stepping up to take him into the house. Once they made it over the threshold, Itachi’s lips crashed up into Shisui’s once more, but Shisui lifted him, gripping under his thighs so Itachi could wrap his legs around his waist.
He crossed the few steps to the bedroom and knelt on the bed as he slowly lowered Itachi down on it, kissing his neck, up to his jaw to capture his lips once more.
Itachi’s hands drifted along his back, pressing into the skin, as he rutted his hips up against him, his own arousal pressing against Shisui’s stomach.
“You’re wearing too much,” Shisui growled into his ear and Itachi gave him a wicked grin in return.
“That seems like a problem that you could easily remedy,” he said, his hands drifting down to the hem of Shisui’s shirt before he tugged it up over his head. Once Shisui’s shirt was tossed away, Itachi placed a palm on his chest, his sharingan spinning on as he captured this moment into his memory forever.
With a huff, Shisui laughed, his own sharingan activating as he pulled Itachi’s shirt over his head. He leaned down to press soft kisses to his neck, to his scent gland. “I’m gonna bite you here,” he said, nipping at the spot he’d mark and claim as his forever soon enough.
Itachi tilted his chin up, running his fingers down Shisui’s back as he mapped out his skin with his fingers. He’d touched him before–they’d even sparred while not wearing shirts. His fingers had traveled along his spine, his neck, it was territory that was incredibly familiar to him. And yet, as he lay beneath Shisui, exploring, he realized this was the first time he’d truly felt him.
He trailed down the planes of his shoulders, alongside his ribcage, and it was like he was home. He gasped when he felt Shisui’s erection press against his, his interest making itself known.
“We don’t–have to do anything tonight,” Shisui said, even though it was clear he wanted.
And Itachi wondered what it would be like, to deprive him of this desire. To tell him to wait for their mating ceremony. Would the waiting make it sweeter when they were able to have this? But Itachi quickly found that he didn’t want to deprive himself of that, the feeling of their bodies moving together.
“I want you,” he said, rocking up against him.
Shisui’s face lit up, and he grinned. He reached over to the bedside table and leaned down to pull Itachi into a hungry kiss. Shisui felt around for supplies, coming back with a bottle of lube a few seconds later. He moved to unfasten Itachi’s pants and pull them off. He did the same with his own and sat back on his heels, kneeling between the spread of Itachi’s legs, cataloging every part of his young lover’s form.
Itachi’s cheeks heated up, and he felt a flush settle into his body, and felt a burning from his chest up to his ears. Being perceived like this, seen as more than just a weapon, more than just the heir to the clan made him feel like he was something special; something that should be treated with care. Itachi couldn’t be more in love with Shisui if he tried.
His lips curved up into a slow smile. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.
Shisui nodded, smiling. “Shit–Ita–you’re-stunning,” he said, mapping Itachi’s body with his hands, his palms smoothing up his chest, around his shoulders, down the sides of his ribs, cupping underneath him to squeeze his ass.
Itachi grabbed Shisui’s arm, and Shisui laughed in a soft huff, leaning down to pull him into a kiss. He kissed down his jaw, exploring with his tongue, mapping him out, kissing down his slender chest, kissing every inch of Itachi he could worship with his tongue.
Every point of Shisui’s attention felt like it was setting Itachi on fire, a combination of the loving touches, gentle kisses, the heated gaze whenever he looked at him. Itachi had never been more aroused in his entire life. His cock lay throbbing against his lower stomach, and he gripped the sheets around him, fisting them in his hands.
Shisui wrapped his lips around the head of Itachi’s cock and itachi lost all concept of rational thought. He gasped, his head arching back into the pillow, and Itachi raised a hand to card through Shisui’s hair, tugging on the strands. He scraped his nails against his scalp which elicited a sharp gasp from Shisui–interesting that he seemed to like this. But no sooner had Itachi discovered this, Shisui took him down further and Itachi had to control himself so he wouldn’t thrust forward into Shisui’s mouth.
Shisui massaged his thighs and Itachi’s head arched back as he experienced an endless wave of pleasure that crested and washed over him. A slicked finger pressed against his entrance, and Itachi barely noticed it pressing in, distracted by the feeling of Shisui’s hot, wet mouth around his cock.
It was uncomfortable at first, but soon Shisui found his prostate which elicited a sharp cry from Itachi. He tugged at the strands of Shisui’s hair as he felt him press another finger into him, curling forward to stimulate that same spot repeatedly. His toes, in turn, curled into the bed, his eyes rolling back into his head as he submitted to the feeling of overwhelming pleasure.
“Please,” he begged, the word barely above a whisper, because he didn’t know what he was begging for, just that he wanted blessed relief.
Shisui popped up off his cock and kissed his lower belly before licking down the line of his hip. “What was that?” he asked between kisses as he added a third finger, spreading them out to make sure that Itachi was relaxed.
Itachi knew the mechanics of intercourse. His pussy wouldn’t open outside of a heat, so they would have to make do with other forms of pleasure. But he hadn’t realized that it could be this pleasurable. When Shisui pulled his fingers out, he dragged a loud cry from Itachi’s lips.
He crawled up Itachi’s body, lining himself up with his entrance. Itachi felt his warm breath against his ear along with the head of his cock pressing in slowly. “You can be as loud as you want, Ita,” Shisui whispered into his ear. “No one is around,” he added. “I want to hear you scream.”
And with that he pressed into Itachi, arms shaking as he held himself up over Itachi’s body, slowly making his way in until he was fully sheathed in his warmth.
Itachi cried out, louder than he’d ever been in his life, his body thrumming underneath Shisui–revving to life, sparking pleasure through him in a way he never thought would have been possible. The pain was accompanied by overwhelming pleasure, and the exquisite stretch was not unwelcome.
Shisui huffed out a laugh, leaning down to kiss his forehead before moving back to hover over him. Itachi opened his eyes to take in the full sight. Shisui’s hair was plastered to his forehead, and his eyes were glazed over and heavy. Itachi felt a wave of accomplished pride rush through him when he realized that he was the reason Shisui was pulled apart like this.
When Itachi relaxed enough, Shisui pulled out and pressed back in with short, sharp thrusts, speeding up slowly, setting a pace where he hit Itachi’s prostate every time he sank into him.. Itachi enjoyed every moment of it, the feeling of Shisui’s cock thrusting into him was almost addicting. He wrapped his legs even tighter around Shisui’s back, pressing his heels into him to push him in deeper when he felt the telltale swell of the base of Shisui’s cock.
“Do you want my knot?” Shisui asked, a hand moving to hook around Itachi’s thigh so he could fuck into him deeper.
Itachi nodded, desperate. “Please–” he begged.
“It’s yours,” he said, leaning down to kiss Itachi’s collarbone as he pressed in with a sharp thrust, spilling into Itachi with a shout.
As soon as his knot breached Itachi’s entrance, locking into him, pressing directly against his prostate, Itachi screamed, his orgasm washing over him as he came over both their chests. His first orgasm–untouched.
It’s either moments or eons later when Itachi feels a wet cloth over his chest as Shisui cleans the two of them up with wipes he’d kept nearby. He’d been so prepared, especially in the ways he’d considered Itachi’s comfort, and Itachi fell in love all over again.
—--
A few months later, they both sat in the ancestral temple, their hands joined as Fugaku tied a sash around them.
On the cusp of his heat, Itachi was very uncomfortable–but the ceremony was thankfully short, and they were both blessed and sent on their way home.
For Itachi, there was no one else–only Shisui. His alpha! His mate! For the rest of their lives. He’d never been able to fathom that he would live for very long, he hadn’t really wanted to. But with Shisui he wanted to build a future together: have children, raise them, and grow old.
As soon as they were at the threshold of their home, Shisui leaned down, picking Itachi up in a bridal carry and taking him inside, ready to start the rest of their lives together.