Dirty Laundry
Shisui never did the laundry. He had done a lifetime of chores while caring for his disabled father, so he couldn't be bothered to lift a finger inside the very same home he had maintained in that time. As the person who had watched him suffer behind a practiced smile, Itachi understood. He had accepted responsibility over the household chores, always the one to keep their laundry clean and smelling fresh. He hadn't cleaned the linens recently, though, yet they were hanging out to dry in the cool evening breeze, along with the clothes Shisui had worn that afternoon.
Itachi felt the darkness of the night surrounding him like the unwanted embrace of an untrustworthy companion. The darkness couldn't be pushed away, though. It was permeating his heart with the same frigid pain he had felt when his innocence had been crushed by the cold, cruel reality of his clan. Now, he knew that same cold cruelty extended to his own home.
Stepping inside, he noticed his slippers were out of place, closer to the door where someone with a shorter stride had left them. Had they conformed to those smaller feet? He stepped out of his sandals, but left his feet bare as he made his way into the living room.
In his late father's old recliner sat Shisui, staring into a cup of untouched coffee. It was well past cold, muddy at the top and sticking to the sides of the cup.
Glancing into the connected kitchen, Itachi found the sink was filled with soap-clouded water, their dishes submerged in it. Shisui never did the dishes. Just beneath the water's surface, he could see the uneven rim of his favorite mug, an adorable craft of Sasuke's that had been given to Itachi on his sixteenth birthday. Shisui hated the chunky rim, so he never used it.
The silence rang in his ears as he moved to sit on the couch, but he was repelled by a large wet spot that smelled heavily of chemical cleaner. Shisui never cleaned the furniture. Instead, he stood there, in the middle of the room like an uncertain guest in his own home. And he waited.
"Sorry..." For a moment, Itachi thought Shisui would free him from his torment, explain to him what had gone wrong in their seemingly perfect relationship, and tell him how they could overcome it. "It's just one of those days..." But he was left to suffer with nothing but feigned normality, as if Shisui was just struggling with his recurring depression.
For a reason he couldn't quite place, Itachi sat on the arm of the chair and pulled his love's head onto his lap, where he combed his fingers through freshly washed curls. Shisui didn't shower when he was in the depths of depression. Still, he comforted him as lovingly as if it were true. "You should try to rest. It's late; let's head to bed."
Shisui agreed after some notable hesitation. Once the normally chipper Uchiha was on his feet, he kept Itachi close, and, as they approached the bedroom, he did more than just lean on him.
Despite the ache in his heart, Itachi submitted eagerly to the body that had betrayed him. He welcomed Shisui between his parted thighs and reminded his insatiable partner that it was his body that knew how to pleasure him, not the inexperienced body of a certain Hyuuga. No matter how tight Neji's body was, no matter how eager he was to please him, he could never compare to the experience and knowledge of a lifelong lover. It satisfied Itachi to taste the sweat building on his lover's skin, to hear Shisui's breath hitch in his ear, to see his face pinch in that adorable way it always did when he was close, and to feel that familiar moisture fill his body after his name was moaned so desperately in his ear.
It was that satisfaction that made him feel weak, though. What had he actually accomplished by allowing Shisui inside of him? He had just rewarded his infidelity.
With Shisui's soft breaths against the back of his neck and his arm draped loosely over his waist, Itachi cried silently into the cold night.
The next day, he endured work with the fortitude of a seasoned shinobi, reported to the hokage to plan the new patrol routes for the Anbu, and returned home to another set of sheets on the clothesline.
Shisui never did the laundry...