He never thought his family would set him up with someone like this.

Neji had gotten dressed up—nothing too special, just nice, clean clothes. A shirt, a jacket, slacks, something he’d just as soon wear out with his friends as on a first date. It was a blind date, no less, and he hadn’t expected anything normal.

After all, it was his family.

But it was also Uchiha Itachi they’d set him up with—for chrissakes, Itachi was a man, and he was an Uchiha.

This was not what he had expected at all.

Neji shifted in his seat, trying to hide his discomfiture behind the menu. From the looks Itachi kept giving him, he was failing at hiding much of anything. Finally, he set his menu aside and started at Itachi, who lowered his and looked back.

“I suggest the sixteen-ounce steak, if you’re looking for a recommendation,” he said dryly. Neji shook his head.

“I’m not,” he said. “Look—I’m sorry. This wasn’t what I expected. My family—“

“—had nothing to do with this,” Itachi cut in sharply. His eyes caught the light of the votive candle between them and swallowed it whole. “I approached them.”

“You—what?”

“I approached your family about a match with you,” Itachi said matter-of-factly. “They were understandably upset, but agreed.”

“Itachi-san.”

“Yes. Neji-san?”

“You’re a man.”

“Thank you for that astute observation. I will be sure to remember that.” Neji couldn’t help but wince at Itachi’s tone. Those black-hole eyes cut like a honed kunai. “I realize that ours would be an unconventional union, Neji-san, but let us entertain it a while. I want to be remembered for more than the greatest Uchiha, the most handsome…more than the best dog of Konoha.”

Neji nodded. He would use this alliance to better his own interests, as well. “Very well. Let’s see how this proceeds.”

To his surprise, Itachi leaned forward on the table. Those eyes glittered, as if they were now luminescing with all the light they had absorbed. “Perhaps we can make it more than another rung on the ladder of ambition, hm?”

Neji found he couldn’t say no to the Uchiha, and instead picked up his menu, flush with embarrassment. Why first dates always had to have something strange happen on them…

Dinner was delicious. Itachi had chosen an upscale restaurant—not too extravagant, though, because his mission pay wouldn’t let him do extravagance right now. The whole time, he watched Neji carefully. The flustered jounin really wasn’t hard to look at, at all. Itachi hadn’t found anyone else in the village that remotely interested him, men and women alike, until in jest and exasperation, his parents had flung Hyuuga Neji’s profile at him.

After dinner, they both declined dessert and left the restaurant together. It was a warm summer evening, and Neji held his jacket over his arm. They were about a foot apart.

“Isn’t the Uchiha compound in the other direction?” he asked, when Itachi seemed determined on walking with him to the gate of the Hyuuga compound.

“It is. But it would not be very gentlemanly of me to let my date return home unescorted,” he replied. There was a hint of sarcasm in his words.

“It’s a good thing your date is a jounin,” Neji shot back.

“It’s tradition.”

“This date is not traditional.”

“Neither is letting a date walk home alone. Stop arguing and enjoy the evening, Hyuuga.”

They made the rest of the walk to the gate in silence. Neji made a perfunctory bow and waved as he let himself in, past the sleeping main house and into his own room in the Branch House. Stripping off his clothes, tossing the jacket over the back of a chair, he slipped into bed.

I’m never letting my family choose dates for me again, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The next morning, he awoke with a piece of paper weighted with a rock outside the door to the rock garden.

:How does next Friday sound to you?

-Uchiha Itachi:

Neji found himself looking forward to the promise of a date next Friday. Even if it were with Itachi, it was something to do other than sit at home, sullenly trying to enjoy the entertainment at that night’s banquet and make small talk with whatever diplomats the Hyuuga clan had to dinner. He went about his usual daytime business with much more vigor; his teammates had commented on it, and even the Hokage had noticed it.

“You’re in much better spirits lately, Hyuuga Neji,” the Godaime said as he collected his pay from a mission. “You wouldn’t happen to have found—“

“No,” he said suddenly. “No girlfriend.”

“I see.” Hazel eyes, wise with years that did not fit with the young face, “Not a girl, then?” She laughed when Neji sputtered, embarrassed. “Don’t mind me, Neji-kun,” she said. “I’m an old lady who needs a little amusement in her life.”

“I-I understand, Hokage-sama,” he replied stiffly.

“I’ll have your next mission to you in a few days,” The Hokage said. “In the meantime, Neji, enjoy yourself.”

Feeling very flustered, Neji left with his pay and made his way back to the main thoroughfare. The Hyuuga compound was fairly close to the Hokage tower, but he had to go through the main business district of Konoha. There was a café he rather liked on the way home, and with the weight of his payoff in his pocket, Neji walked in. “Good morning, Nina-san!”

“Good morning, Neji-san!” the head waitress replied. “Your usual?”

“Please,” he replied, taking a seat at the counter. Slipping into thought, Neji traced the dried cup-rings on the wood with a delicate finger. Why me? He thought. Why do I always attract strange people?

“Penny for your thoughts, Hyuuga?”

Startled, Neji realized that he now had someone sitting next to him, and that someone was the last person he wanted to see right now. “Good morning, Uchiha Itachi-san.”

“No need to be so formal.” Itachi put his order into the waitress and looked over again. “You seem unsettled.”

“I’m not,” Neji said with a huff.

“You’re a terrible liar, Neji-san.”

“I’m not flustered, Itachi-san.”

“Your body language speaks otherwise,” Itachi said in that calm voice of his. Reaching over, he ran a hand across Neji’s shoulders, feeling the muscles standing out against his palm. “Your shoulders are tense, Neji-san. That’s usually a sign there’s something bothering you. Is it me?”

“You’re not bothering me, Itachi-san.”

“Good. I saw you go in and was wondering what you’d like to do this Friday. I had a few ideas…”

It actually wasn’t that bad, Neji thought as he left the café with Itachi some hours later, a smile back on his face.

And he was really looking forward to Frida

Vista

“I want you to see this,” Itachi had said, and then blindfolded him. They had just left dinner at another nice restaurant; their conversation had been easy, friendly even. But their relationship—if you could call it that, hadn’t yet progressed to the trusting-enough-to-lead-blindfolded stage. So it was with understandable trepidation that Neji let the Uchiha prodigy lead him along some unknown path in the darkness. And the path was growing steeper.

At least the ground under his feet leveled out; he felt springy grass under his shoes and smelled a clean breeze. “Stop, Neji,” the man leading him said. “I’m going to take off the blindfold now.”

He felt the knot being undone, and blinked his eyes open when the cloth slipped away. Awed by the sight suddenly revealed before him, Neji blinked again. “Amazing…where—“

“On top of the Hokage monument,” Itachi replied. “I come here often, to get away from the politics of ANBU and of the family.” A sour look crossed his face, and Neji felt sympathy for the older nin. The Hyuuga clan had its own intrigue. Apparently unafraid of staining his clothes, the Uchiha sat on the ground. “It’s especially beautiful at night.”

Neji crouched, looking out over the village. Warm gloes lit the storefronts and the ground in front; all through the streets, lanterns had been lit and marched in neat rows through the houses and other buildings. His sharp eye could detect the clusters of light denoting the Hyuuga compound, close to the Hokage tower and Academy complex. Farther away he could see the Uchiha compound, dark and brooding where it wasn’t lit up. On the village walls, patrols carried torches to light the night-fires.

Itachi’s hand grabbed the back of Neji’s shirt and yanked him to sit on the ground as well. “You’re making my senses wary,” he explained. “Looking like you’ll shoot off in all directions at once.”

“My clothes—“

“They can be washed. Sit and…enjoy yourself.”

Scowling, Neji sat crosslegged on the ground. He would have grass stains all over his legs, but after some grouching about, the jounin finally began to relax. He could see why a genius like Itachi would enjoy it up here—it was quiet, calm, unhurried. He wasn’t constantly on call up here, and could take the time to simply enjoy his surroundings without worrying if the sound in the brush was an enemy shinobi ready to attack, or if some hunter-nin would rise up out of the shadows and stab him in the spine. Sounds drifted up to him; laughter, conversations, the strains of some unknown song.

He glanced over at his date (Neji stubbornly refused to say ‘boyfriend’) and was surprised to see that Itachi looked almost…relaxed. The usual haughtiness of the Uchiha was gone from his face; the straight nose unwrinkled with disgust or distaste. His eyes were full of some strange emotion that the Hyuuga couldn’t read.

They sat like that for some time, enjoying the view as one by one the shop lights began to go out. Soon, there were only scattered glows aside from the street lights. Itachi stood, brushed himself off, and offered a hand to Neji. “We should get back.”

Somewhat reluctant, Neji took the hand and stood. For a moment it seemed like Itachi would hold on to his hand—but the Uchiha released it and led the way back down the path. They wandered back through the streets, unwilling to really let the night be over, but when the front gates of the Hyuuga compound came back into sight Neji knew it was through.

“I thank you, Itachi-san,” he said quietly. “I…enjoyed myself tonight.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Itachi replied. There was an awkward silence. Then—“Sleep well, Neji-san. Good night.”

“Good night,” Neji called, and slipped back inside. His dreams that night were not nightmares.

The lake’s waters were calm in the hot sun, the waves barely riffling the surface. Dipping his foot in, Itachi yanked it back immediately. “It’s too cold,” he said flatly.

Neji was climbing a tree by sticking to the trunk, the rope in his hand tied to a branch that overhung the water. In disuse, the knotted, stained end of the once-white rope dangled twenty feet out, in deeper water. Neji held it in his hand, looking like a schoolboy.

In a mix of utter horror and fascination, the Uchiha genius watched as Neji, usually so stoic, gripped the rope tightly in his hands, pushed off from the trunk and swung out. His hair flew behind him, his eyes were glittering, and there was a smile on his face that some part of Itachi would have committed terrible crimes to see as a result of some work of Itachi’s own doing. For now he would content himself with the actions of others, and watched carefully as Neji released the rope and flew out into brilliant sunlight. He seemed hang in the air for a long heartbeat, looking as though wings could burst from his back and he could fly away any moment—but then that magic ended and Neji crashed unceremoniously and messily into the water.

When he didn’t surface right away, Itachi activated the chakra in his feet and started off over the surface of the water, fully intent on finding the idiot and hauling him to shore and berating him with something—but just as he’d gotten both feet onto the surface, he saw a head pop up and shake wet hair out of bright white eyes.

“It’s not that bad, Itachi-san.”

“You’re shivering. Come here and dry off.”

“That’s half the fun. Just do the rope swing and it’ll get you used to the water much faster that way.” Grabbing the tassel-y end, Neji hauled the swing back over to shore. The Uchiha’s eyebrow twitched upward when Neji walked out into the shallows, water streaming down his body. Itachi followed that water with his eyes until it disappeared into the waist of Neji’s swimming shorts—which were soaked, he noted, and—

“Itachi-san, is something wrong? You look a little flushed.”

“I can’t believe a jounin from the Hyuuga clan is—disporting himself so wantonly—in a lake—“

“You wanted me to pick where we went today, and it’s hot, so I suggested the lake. You agreed,” Neji pointed out. “You didn’t have to go.”

“I suggested it so we could do something together.”

“And we will be.” The Hyuuga held out the rope swing. “Try it once.”

Sighing in resignation, Itachi pulled his hair out of the tie and started walking up the tree. Below he could see Neji swimming out into the open water again. Gripping the rope tightly, he pushed off as he had seen Neji do.

It was an exhilarating feeling, he discovered, swinging. Your stomach leapt into your lungs while you were falling, then dropped, and then—

“Let go!” he heard, and released the rope, flying through air into the bright like and, like his date, crashing down into the water. If his family had seen him then, they would have laughed. Itachi wouldn’t have minded—in his mind, he was laughing with them.

It’s not called Fire Country for nothing, I suppose, Itachi thought, just as he had at the end of every spring when Fifth Month rolled around and brought with it the hot weather. Most places started their hot seasons a month or so later and Fifth Month was mild. Not so for Konoha; they paid for their will of fire with their sweat.

The Uchiha doubted that his black clothing helped—the shirt that so proudly displayed the sigil of his clan stuck to his back, and the high neck suffocated him. One would think that after being based in Konoha for long enough, the Uchihas would learn to make clothes that don’t make them want to bury themselves in a tub full of ice.

Neji wasn’t so burdened by clan pride; his clothes were looser and lighter-colored. His concession to the heat was that he’d left off the guard-skirt that protected his legs on missions, and his hair was tied back out of his face. Itachi wouldn’t say that the look suited him more—but it was never very hard to look at Neji in the first place. He somehow managed to appear cool, even in this heat.

The interior of the ice cream parlor was blessedly cool on their flushed and sweating faces, and as they waited for their ice cream they leaned against the wall and let the chill seep into their bodies.

“Times like this make me want to move to somewhere cold and snowy,” Itachi grumbled. “I dislike the heat.”

“You’ve taken twenty years of it so far,” Neji replied. “A few more won’t hurt you.” He picked up the cones and paid the shopkeeper, and they took seats by the wall. Automatically both scanned the room before relaxing enough to eat. Itachi really did have a sweet tooth, Neji found—the genius must have tried every flavor in the place. The Hyuuga enjoyed watching his reactions to certain ones. The tomato-flavored ice cream produced the most hilarious results, and Neji struggled to keep from laughing out loud as Itachi’s nose wrinkled up and his face got a very pinched look.

“Take it home to your brother,” Neji suggested.

“The little brat wouldn’t appreciate it if I did manage to keep it from melting on the way there.”

“Sasuke’s not that bad…”

“Yes. Yes, he is.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re brothers.”

“And you don’t understand because you don’t have any siblings at all. And Hinata-san doesn’t count.”

“Why doesn’t she—“

“She’s your cousin, not your sibling, and you don’t live in the same house.”

“So? We grew up together.”

“It’s not the same.”

“It’s not?”

“Of course not…”

They went back and forth like this for some time, while the ice cream melted and people came in and out. But they were oblivious, wrapped in their own little world.

The heat lessens in the evening, and that’s when the village comes alive. Stores are open later because of the longer days and cooler nights, and the streets are hung with bright paper lanterns.

People recognize both of them, even when they’re not in uniform and not displaying their hitae-ate so prominently. Shinobi always have an air of mystic about them, and clan members intensify that. Neji’s white eyes are easily spotted in any crowd, and Itachi’s face would be known as an Uchiha’s face anywhere. Some whisper behind their hands about the two clan members walking together as though they were lovers, but they don’t press the questions to the two shinobi. For those who know Itachi and Neji, they know it’s rare to see them looking so pleased.

As always, they stop at the stand selling weaponry of all shapes and sizes, from huge blades worthy of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, down to the most basic sets of kunai and shuriken, for beginners. Neji’s hands move over them, itching to try some out. He pauses at a short sword, but lets it go. He’d never use it anyway.

“Do you want it?” he hears, and suddenly feels the press of Itachi’s body against his side. One hand is on his back and the other goes to the sword, examining it carefully. “It’s a fine sword.”

Neji’s flustered by his companion’s closeness and the fact that he’d spend so much money for a gift for him. “N-no, thank you. Perhaps another time.”

The weight and the hand are gone, and they move on to the next stall.

He liked dark theatres, although they always made him nervous. Darkness brought enemies and danger; even here, in the heart of Konoha, there was a threat. But it was another Friday night date, he was out with Neji, and Itachi was determined to enjoy himself.

The movie they were seeing was some action movie; it had been the most interesting one on the listing, so they’d had dinner beforehand and come here. It was just a boring, normal date, and Neji was still as untouchable as ever. His hands were folded neatly in his lap, back flat against the backrest—of course, Itachi wasn’t much better. If anyone had looked at them, no one would have suspected they were on a date, much less doing anything together.

This is…awkward, Neji thought. His peripheral vision caught the strange expression on Itachi’s face. Perhaps I’m being too formal?

This is awkward, Itachi mused. What’s a good way to get him to loosen up? What’s a good way to get myself to loosen up, for that matter…?

Unfolding his hands, Neji hesitated a moment before putting them on the wide armrests of the seat. He saw Itachi tense up and thought maybe he should remove them—but then the other relaxed, and so did Neji. Good, I didn’t do something inappropriate. Relationships are so complicated.

Itachi eyed the Hyuuga’s pale, slender hand. The dim light hid it, but he knew that for all its delicate appearance, Neji’s hands were calloused, thick pads of muscle at the palms from his fighting style. They wouldn’t be the soft hands of a maiden, but the hands of a shinobi.

Suddenly, he had to touch them, had to feel the calluses with his own. Sliding his hand across the polished wood, he got barely close enough to feel Neji’s skin with the tip of his pinkie—then drew back quickly. His mind was full of what-ifs and possibilities; Itachi hated himself for a moment for having such an analytical mind, and then calmed again, his hand moving over and meeting the skin, resting there.

The first brush of contact was so small and uncertain that Neji didn’t notice it until after the fact. Then he felt it again, a gentle warmth against his hand that didn’t go away. Immediately Neji came up with a half-dozen motives for the Uchiha to want to touch his hand, and then came up with a further list of why each of those half-dozen motives was totally shot.

If the two could have heard each other’s thoughts at that moment, they might have thought they were hearing echoes.

What does he…

What is he…

…I don’t know what this—it feels so strange, I—

…this is strange, but, I—

I kind of…

It’s rather…I…

…like it.

Swallowing, Neji edged his hand over a little more. All the long lectures about relationships only being for procreation and the continuance of the shinobi class, all those times when he was scolded for “admiring men too much,” slowly started to fade into the background noise of his mind.

Finally figuring out the Hyuuga wasn’t going to shy away from his touch, Itachi moved his hand over more, covering Neji’s fingers. His own seemed ultrasensitive right now.

Slowly, their hands curled around each other, shyly, and they didn’t let go until it was time for them to say goodbye at night.

Shikamaru had suggested that they go cloud watching during the evening. It was particularly good then, he’d said to Neji with a yawn. The sun made colors out of the clouds, it was pleasant but not boiling, and if you found one of the good spots in the parks you could be virtually alone. Neji had immediately thought of a better place, but hadn’t mentioned it. That spot was very firmly in his mind as belonging to Itachi and himself, and only Itachi and himself.

They lay on their backs in the thick grass, staring up at a sky full of puffy clouds. Their attempts at making what they thought of as ‘normal’ conversation about clouds had not gone so well.

“That one looks like…hm, I’d say a dog’s head.”

“…no, it doesn’t. It looks like three lumps of cloud together.”

“Itachi, you’re supposed to use your imagination.”

“I’m trying. It’s three lumps of cloud together.”

After a few more attempts like that, they’d fallen silent. In a way, both of them liked it better this way. It was a chance to just enjoy each other’s company away from the village and its constant demands on them both. Summer was the highest time for missions, as every daimyo and their cat wanted to make a journey to some lake somewhere, and they were such a prime target that they had to have a shinobi escort. Some of the more advanced genin teams and the chuunin teams took up a lot of the slack, but there were often genuinely dangerous escorts—ones that led through or near Sound territory, for example—that required a jounin, and Neji had been dispatched on those, gone for days or weeks at a time.

Each return had brought Itachi leaning against a tree near the gates of the village. Sometimes he was in his street clothes; sometimes he was in the ANBU uniform and smelled of sweat and blood. Neji began to look forward to seeing him at the end of a mission. Their relaxation times after missions were like right now; calm, unhurried, unwinding away from any demands anyone could make of them.

“Neji.”

“Yes, Itachi?”

He saw the prodigy’s hand go up, finger pointing to a shapeless mass of white condensed water. “That one looks like the Uchiha symbol.”

Konoha was a pleasant place to walk through, especially the upper-class districts where the clan houses were. Inside the walls of the compounds was in effect a smaller version of Konoha. Children of each clan were trained in the very basics and grounded in clan and shinobi laws. There were little shops where other clan members sold their goods; villagers could come and go as they pleased during the times the gates were open. The Hyuuga compound was not as commercial as that of the Uchihas, and so when Itachi took Neji for a walk through his home, he was more than a little amazed.

There were people everywhere, for one thing—Uchihas, characterized by their light skin and dark hair, and the shoppers, clamoring for the best wares. Itachi stopped by a fruit stand and picked up two apples for them, slipping his into a pocket. The shopkeeper nudged him and pointed at Neji, asking something the Hyuuga couldn’t hear. Itachi responded, and they nodded knowingly. He’d never felt as uncomfortable in his life.

“What was that about?” Neji asked when Itachi rejoined him and they continued their walk.

“Just asking after your health,” he replied. Neji felt fingers brush his and twitched. He still wasn’t comfortable with holding hands in public.

“They had an odd expression for it.”

“Hyuugas don’t visit Uchihas very often. They were understandably curious—stop being so paranoid, Neji.” They went down a side street, between two houses. Itachi kept looking up at the roofs of the houses.

“What are you—“

“You’ll see. Here,” Itachi said, and stopped at a wall near the end of an alley. “Get up onto the roof.”

It took little more than a leap off the side of the building opposite to get to the tile roof. It still held the heat from the daytime, but as the sun was sinking behind the monument the tile was starting to release its heat and cool down. Itachi sat up near the spine and gestured Neji over.

“It’s fine, nobody’s home,” he said. “They went on a vacation to Waves.”

Sitting gingerly, Neji looked out over the roofs of the Uchiha compound—in the center of it, the sprawling house of the main family—and over the rest of Konoha.

“We’re supposed to protect all of this,” Itachi said. “We’re supposed to be the elite, you and I. When war is called between Sound and Leaf, we clansmen will be the first ones out to war. It’s our duty to Konoha for allowing us to live here. We don’t have a choice; our destinies are set.”

Neji thought of the words of a certain blonde at a chuunin exam long ago, and of how his thoughts that he would marry a rich woman he didn’t love and have children for the clan that he would probably see die in his lifetime had begun to fade away. “No, they’re not,” he said.

He felt Itachi’s hand take his own, and held it without hesitation.

Neji hated dances.

He’d hated them all through school, whenever the teachers had gotten it into their heads that it would be a great way for the boys to get used to the girls, because it was entirely possible they would have a female teammate. Neji had always scorned these dances, standing off to the side and glaring at anyone who came near.

His family held them too, very formal ones in the wide gardens of the Main House, and they always made him feel out of place. It didn’t help that for all the pretty perfumed wrists and the painted lips, his thoughts strayed to someone who smelled of man and faintly of blood, with lips that needed no paint to be that perfect shade.

Shaking his head to clear it, Neji shifted against the beam he was leaning on, watching Hinata dance with some grandfather of the clan. She had the clan leadership to look forward to, and a husband, and many children. He would have none.

But, he realized as Itachi finally returned from wandering off to find the bathroom, he really didn’t mind.

Their hips moved to the music, tight against each other. In the darkness, the crowd was just a mass of bodies, but only one had his attention. Dark hair pulled into a ponytail spilled over his shoulder, and his body was lean and muscled. His hand on the other’s back could feel the muscles working, and traced them, smirking when he felt a shudder. The other hand was on his partner’s hip, rubbing the skin the low-slung jeans exposed.

They weren’t able to go to these raves often, but when they did they enjoyed it. As antisocial as they seemed, it was good to get out every now and then just so they wouldn’t go insane. And, Neji thought, it made them both that much more energetic in bed. Often he’d get the news through Itachi’s little brother, now also a jounin, and would tell Itachi when or if they met for a meal. Either way, that evening as the sun was going down Neji would saunter over to Itachi dressed in mesh shirts and leather pants, Itachi would get the message and dress, and they would go to wherever the rave was that night—an abandoned warehouse, a forest clearing (the bonfires that flickered behind Itachi as they pressed their bodies together made him look like a demon from Hell), a cave.

The whole gang was there, usually—Naruto, Sasuke and whoever he was banging that week, the girls, Shino, Kiba, everyone caught up in this dance.

“Neji,” the other growled in his ear. Lips brushed his neck and a hand slid down his back to cup his ass. In response, the Hyuuga dug his nails into Itachi’s hip and was rewarded by feeling the other arch into his touch. The leather pants that Neji wore did little to hide how aroused he was, and through the material between them he could feel that Itachi was hard as well.

Oh, he’d be getting it when they got back.

The sounds pierced through the cool night air like a knife, and Neji winced. It was like listening to a group of little kids singing.

Just like it? He thought with another wince. We ARE listening to little kids singing.

It was summer solstice in Konoha, which meant that there was a special program put on by the academy students. As there were always Uchihas and Hyuugas coming and going through the Academy, both Neji and Itachi were obligated to come see their younger relations perform. And by the sour look on Itachi’s face, it was giving them both headaches.

The song built into an earsplitting crescendo, and Neji suppressed the urge to cover his ears so they wouldn’t bleed all over his clothes. But after that it was done, and all the parents were appropriately enthusiastic. Young Hyuuga Kimi, her moonstone eyes glittering happily and her brow as yet unmarred by the Caged Bird seal, ran over to her parents and got hugs and a small treat. Neji and Itachi were on the outside, the latter only half-paying attention to the younger Uchihas being congratulated.

Kimi tugged on Neji’s clothes, looking up at him. “Did I do well, Neji-san?” she asked. Smiling and pulling a little wrapped package of sweets out of his pocket and gave it to her.

“You did fine, Kimi-chan,” he replied. “Go to your parents now.”

Itachi scowled at him. “Why did you lie? It was terrible.”

“She’s five years old, Itachi,” he said, leaning in so he could speak in a low voice. “Children must hold on to their hope.”

Only Neji would know that he’d won that round.

They walked hand-in-hand down the fairway as kids ran screaming around them and older teens and young adults competed at various games. There was a section of games exclusively for shinobi; their superior senses and balance often tipped in their favor even on weighted games, and it was disheartening to normal people to be continually outstripped by the nins.

Neji and Itachi were beyond most of that, although Itachi tried his hand at a ring toss game with randomly moving targets, and managed to win a small stuffed bear which he promptly handed off to Neji.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” the Hyuuga asked, looking at it as though it would blow up in his face.

“It’s a gift,” Itachi said with his usual dry humor. “You should probably keep it and put it somewhere safe when you get back.”

Neji grumbled about it, but that night when he got back he put the bear next to him in his bed and slept the whole night through.

It was the duty of each Hidden Village to maintain not only a sealed vault full of secret, forbidden scrolls and the Village records, but also a library with copies of the records and scrolls for any shinobi, from the freshest genin to the most seasoned jounin and ANBU captains to use. It contained, along with that, histories, fiction novels, and poetry, and all the things a normal village’s library would have.

Finding himself in need of something to study and occupy himself with on a mission, Neji had borrowed a couple scrolls beforehand and now was preparing to leave the compound to return them. The mission had gone well, he’d gotten a bonus pay for carrying it out in a speedy manner; he’d been disappointed when Itachi hadn’t been at the gates or the report office waiting for him as he usually was, but Neji had simply decided he was out on a mission of his own. The Uchiha heir was in high demand as one of the best that Konoha had to offer, as was Neji, and their schedules didn’t always coincide.

It was humid and hot in the streets, and Neji’s shirt stuck to his back as he walked to the big building near the Hokage Tower. His hitae-ate didn’t help, and he envied people with clear brows who were able to change the position of theirs so that they didn’t have to deal with the heat being trapped in such a place. He felt a bead of sweat trickle out as he walked into the dim library. It was always cooler in here; somehow the building resisted the heat, but stayed warm in winter. Neji walked over to the librarian’s desk, pulling the scrolls out of his pouch and handed them to the librarian; she took them and looked away.

“Mission went well, I assume?”

Startled, he suppressed the urge to jump out of his skin and turned to see Itachi in his ANBU gear, the mask in his hand. It was a rat.

The other man walked over and pulled out a scroll of his own, handing it to the librarian who took it with an overly wide smile and thanked him profusely. Neji realized she was flirting, and then wondered why he wanted to step in closer to Itachi and make it clear that he was not interested in her.

“It went smoothly, Itachi,” he replied, signing his name in the ‘Returns’ book and then wandering off through the shelves. He barely caught the whisper of Itachi following him, and paused. They walked down the long row of scrolls together. The Uchiha had the ghost of a smile on his face and out of curiosity (the Uchiha hadn’t smiled like this before) Neji asked, “What’s so funny?”

“You were jealous.”

Offended, Neji stopped and glared at him. “I was not jealous.”

“If your eyes could have turned green with it, they would have.”

“I was not jealous,” Neji repeated irritably. Itachi turned to face him fully.

“Is there any scroll in particular you were looking for?” he asked, suddenly changing the subject. Neji sighed; he’d probably never understand the other man.

“I was just trying to get some respite from the heat,” he said finally. “The sweat’s barely cooled on my back. How did your own—or you can’t talk about it.”

“It went well,” Itachi said ambiguously. ANBU generally were forbidden from talking about their missions, lest it compromise some vital bit of intelligence to a spy. “I was successful.”

They were quiet, walking again for a short time through the stacks of scrolls, before Neji finally sighed. “I was jealous.”

“Was that so hard?”

“Would it have been as hard for you?”

“….”

“My point exactly.”

They went for ice cream after and forgot the whole thing.

They got no rest, he decided. None at all.

Itachi had been sent back out on a mission almost immediately. They’d thought he would have his usual break between missions, and they’d made plans since Neji’s seventeenth birthday would be in five days. And Itachi was back out in the field on a mission that he’d said could take a week, and then Neji had been called out as well, and now he was crouched under an overhang the day before his birthday in a raging thunderstorm that had built up during the heat, and it was all just so wrong.

At least he was dry.

Finally the rain let up, and then the clouds cleared, and the team was able to proceed homewards again. They leapt the walls, skimming the rooftops and bursting in through the large window on the side of the reports office. So often had shinobi come through the windows that they had simply installed a bigger window and made it an entrance.

He asked after the ANBU codenamed Yuki. He was told they hadn’t reported in yet.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Neji’s birthday was made better by Itachi returning in the middle of it, walking in fresh off a mission still in his gear again and handing Neji a neatly wrapped box that turned out to contain a fine yukata and a string of hina shuriken from a famous weaponsmaker in Mist, and announcing he was invited to a party the Uchihas were hosting that weekend. How Itachi had known that Neji had been lusting after such shuriken for years was a mystery, but he wasn’t going to complain.

But the best present of all was given to him when Itachi was ‘helping’ Neji by carrying all the presents he’d gotten back across the garden to his room. He said, in that matter-of-fact way that always made even the Hyuuga prodigy feel a little stupid, that Neji knew his way around the compound and he, Itachi, did not. So it was Neji who was carrying nothing and Itachi who held everything, and it felt more than a little awkward.

The branch house was quiet; a party had been thrown in honor of Neji’s birthday, and every Hyuuga currently in the compound was in attendance. It was more a social event at times than a birthday, as half the guest list was comprised of people Neji didn’t know but was expected to shake hands and smile pleasantly at. He slid open the screen to his room. “Just put them down on the desk there,” he said. There was the rustle of the various packages being set down.

“Neji.”

“Yes?”

“Turn around and close your eyes. I’ve got one last thing to give you.”

Curious, as there was no other place for Itachi to put something of any size without it bulging out, he followed the instructions and stood in the middle of the moonlit room, eyes closed. “What—“

Itachi kissed him. It wasn’t a hurried kiss, or a passionate one; he simply put his arms on Neji’s hips and kissed him.

Very flustered, Neji almost pulled away, but as though he’d read the Hyuuga’s thoughts Itachi’s grip on him tightened just a little, and just like that Neji was caught. It occurred to him that he should do something with his hands, so he hesitantly placed them on the front of Itachi’s flak jacket. Under his right palm, he could feel Itachi’s heartbeat, faster than normal—was the ice-cold Uchiha genius nervous?

He decided then that it really, truly didn’t matter.

When they finally returned to the party, only a few people understood why Neji looked so flushed and Itachi looked so triumphant.

Parties thrown by the Uchihas tended to be large social events, and this one was, unfortunately, no exception. Itachi and Neji had never been very good mingling with other people, and were currently both leaning against the wall trying to look inconspicuous together and failing. Their hands, clasped together, were half-hidden in the folds of their fine clothes, and while Neji thought they exuded the very essence of being together, they were both still beset by girls and other men alike, all with eyes for one or the other (or in the strangest cases, both). Itachi’s sour look had been in place since they’d entered the gates of the Uchiha compound, and Neji’s own look hadn’t been long in coming.

Fugaku came by eventually, glaring at them both. “The guests are anxious to meet you, Itachi,” he said. Nodding at Neji almost as an afterthought, he moved off with Mikoto in tow, schmoozing with the rich and the noteworthy around Konoha.

Everything was such a power play now, Neji thought dispassionately. Hand still loosely holding on to Itachi’s, he followed the older nin across the room and only half-listened after he was introduced. The wife of this particular diplomat kept shooting him nasty looks, and soon after that he figured out that she, like every other female with an eye for Itachi, was jealous of him. Neji still wasn’t used to this, and as the night wore on it became clear that half the women in the room were ready to slit his throat and take Itachi for themselves.

Until they got to one couple.

It was a quarter to eleven; the party was at its height. They were making idle chatter with an elderly couple and trying to hide that they were together when the woman said to Neji, “You don’t need to hide from us, dear. We’ve seen stranger pairs in our lifetime, and you are quite normal and welcome in this world where everyone’s so busy knitting a damn scarf out of the yarns they tell to make themselves bigger.”

After that, things got considerably better. It was well past one in the morning when Itachi escorted a yawning Neji directly to his room, saying if he hadn’t had an arm around Neji on the way home the Hyuuga would have fallen flat on his face. Itachi politely turned around so Neji could undress and crawl into bed, and then tucked the covers in almost tenderly around him. They stared at each other, dark eyes intense and pearlescent eyes sleepy, before Neji hesitantly leaned up to kiss him shyly. He felt the oddly gentle brush of fingers on his cheek and cracked his eyes open. Itachi was…caressing him?

“Sleep well, Neji,” the Uchiha said, rising.

“You too, Itachi.”

With a puff of white smoke he was gone, and Neji fell into sleep.

There was a stargazing festival in the early part of Eighth Month; everyone would dress up and head to big open parks and rooftops to see the stars that were especially clear and bright during this part of the year. Sometimes a meteor shower came at the same time, and then everyone would stay later and count them. It was an excuse for the younger children to stay up late and play in the streets, their shouts adding to the festive feeling.

Itachi and Neji had gone up to their overlook above the Hokage monument, surprised and delighted to find no one there. They brought a blanket but ended up putting it down and laying back on it, as everyone knows that the best way to do anything involving the stars is to lay down. They said little, enjoying their time off that coincided for once, and watched as the constellations spun overhead and listened to the noise of parties drifting up from the village below. Their hands were clasped between them.

Neji’s eyes followed a meteor as it streaked across the sky. “Make a wish,” he muttered with a smile on his face. When he was young, he’d always wished on stars. Until he was four, it was a wish to make his father proud. After that, he’d slowly stopped wishing.

“A wish?” Itachi asked, confused.

“Didn’t your parents ever tell you to make wishes when you saw a falling star?”

“…do you think my parents would?”

Neji had looked over, and now he looked back up at the sky, feeling a little foolish. “I suppose you’re right.”

A silence. Then: “What did you wish for?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t come true.”

“I see.”

Another meteor burned up thousands of feet above them. Looking over, Neji could see Itachi’s brow furrowed in thought, his lips moving slightly. When Itachi was done, he turned on his side and stared back, expression serious as ever.

“What was your wish?” Neji asked.

“I can’t tell you,” Itachi said slowly, a smile creeping across his face. “It wouldn’t come true if I did.” He leaned over and kissed Neji, lightly, tasting of starlight.

“Itachi, this is the most expensive—“

“I know.”

“It’ll take you two missions’ pay to—“

“I know.”

“It’s not that special an occasion anyway, I don’t mind going somewhere—“

“I know, Neji. Stop complaining. We’ve been dating six months, and it is customary to do something special.”

“So you’re just doing this because it’s what others do?”

“No, I’m doing it because I care about you.”

That made Neji start and look up from where he was staring, wide-eyed, at the discreetly placed prices next to each dish. “You what?”

“I’m not maintaining a relationship with you for your sense of humor, Neji. Pick anything you want, and don’t worry about the price. You and the trade are the only things I’ll spend money on anymore, and I’d rather it be you.”

Wondering if he should feel insulted, Neji went back to perusing the menu, finally selecting something moderately priced (for this establishment, anyway) and closing his menu. Itachi looked at him over the top of his own, then made his own selection. The waiter came over a few minutes later, took their orders and gave them a refill on their drinks, and left. The Uchiha leaned forward on the table, studying Neji’s face as he looked around the restaurant. The Fire Bowl was the richest, most expensive place in Konoha, and it was six months to the day of their first date.

“You look like you’re about to be attacked. Relax.”

Scowling over at him, Neji picked at an imaginary loose thread in the tablecloth. “I could help p—“

“No.” Itachi’s answer was firm and final. “I’ve been planning this since your birthday.” He reached over and stilled Neji’s nervous playing with the linens. “Please enjoy yourself. I dislike seeing you so edgy.”

The warmth of Itachi’s hand made him stop, breathe, and force each muscle in his body to relax. “Itachi…?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” The smile Neji got in response made warmth spread all through him.

“You’re welcome.”

Neji relaxed back against the wall, studying the heat waves shimmering off the rocks in the garden. The door was open to catch any crossbreeze that was unfortunate enough to be kicked up in the middle of the day. It was the last fling of an autumn heat wave, Itachi’s head was in his lap, and Neji’s pale fingers were threading idly through the black strands.

The Uchiha was sprawled across the futon on his belly. On the tray at the edge, two glasses half-full of chilled tea dripped beads of condensation down their sides.

“When it cools down a bit, we can go to the lake for a swim,” he said quietly. Itachi mumbled something, and his possessive grip on Neji’s leg tightened.

“Yeah, I understand,” the Hyuuga said. The gentle sifting through Itachi’s hair never ceased.

The harvest-time festival was held during a time when they were both out on missions, unfortunately, and couldn’t be there. They missed Hinata spraining an ankle when she went dancing with Naruto, Sasuke bringing some girl home and getting caught by Fugaku, and the main events of the festival, but were present for the closing fireworks.

Shinobi were not allowed to feel love, or any of the gentler emotions which the Hermit Sannin wrote so frivolously about. They were not allowed the luxury of humanity, but when they did becoming human, they formed bonds that took apathy and the chill hand of evil to break.

It had started with a perfectly innocent, chaste kiss, which was all Neji had ever allowed in public. The Hyuugas had ground fear of the gossip mill into all their children, and Neji was no exception. Until Itachi had pointed out that there was nothing nearby and no one around them to see, their kisses had remained infuriatingly innocent.

Half under him, Neji made a little noise in his throat. His lips were kiss-reddened and swollen, glistening invitingly when Neji licked them. Itachi touched them with a finger, then kissed him furiously again. He ran the tip of his tongue over the seam of the younger man’s lips and they parted willingly, Itachi’s tongue delving in to finally taste him. He sighed contentedly, drinking from Neji’s lips as though the sweetness he found there was the elixir of life and he was a dying man.

He had a hand on Neji’s belly, feeling the play of muscles there as the other would stretch to meet his mouth more fully. Itachi’s kisses moved from Neji’s lips along his jaw to his throat, feeling the swift pulse under the skin and smirking a little. Neji’s hands on his back flexed a little, and Itachi bit lightly, at the same time sliding his hand down to the top of his partner’s pants.

He felt Neji twitch away a little and moved his hand and head away, looking down at Neji’s face. In lust-glazed eyes he saw the reflection of the fireworks overhead, glittering like the threads of color in a polished opal. The thumb of his other hand rubbed Neji’s cheek.

“Do you trust me, Neji?”

The pause seemed as long as a lifetime. “I trust you.”

Itachi’s hand moved back down, brushing sensitive fingers over even more sensitive skin, and hidden by the booming fireworks, Neji moaned. The Uchiha drank up every one he coaxed out of that lovely throat, and before long, he realized that he was moaning too as Neji’s hands moved and helped him. They were more skilled than he had thought.

The fireworks high above were mirrored below.

This time of year, the park was frozen early in the mornings. Out for a morning walk on his day off, Itachi found himself headed for his favorite place in the park as a child, a bench by the pond. There were water birds in it during the summer, but now there were only birds late on migrating pausing there on the way to warmer climes. It was a secluded place, one where a genius in need of a break would be able to be alone. The spot was hidden behind the long branches of willow trees, and on either side by rushes in the pond.

Much to his surprise there was already someone there—someone with long dark hair and pale skin that Itachi would have recognized anywhere. Picking up his pace to a jog, the Uchiha heir sat down on the bench next to Neji. “I didn’t know you knew about this place.”

“I always came here when I was frustrated with the academy or my family,” Neji replied. He had some day-old bread in his lap and was throwing bits to the birds, clustered at his feet. Wordlessly he handed some to Itachi, and they fed the birds together.

Brushing the crumbs off his hands, Itachi moved over to find that Neji had already closed the distance between them, and for once, their relationship felt normal.

Neji wandered idly through the marketplace stalls, bag already full of solstice gifts for his teammates, sensei, and family, looking for one last gift. Thinking the weapons stall a likely place, he stopped.

He’s already got those…doesn’t need that…I don’t even know what this is…

Scowling, he looked over the rest of the merchandise on display, debating with himself whether to leave or pick something here, he finally reached hesitantly for a short sword that was higher quality than the ANBU-issue one that Itachi carried. He paid for it and hurriedly stuck it in his bag as the Uchiha walked over from where he’d been looking at something else.

“Ready?” Itachi put an arm around his shoulders.

“Yes, let’s move on,” Neji replied.

Neji was looking for something he wouldn’t find.

The ANBU headquarters was never in the same place for more than a week, to prevent spies from having enough time to call in reinforcements that were sufficiently strong enough to overpower the ANBU members they might find. And Neji was trying to find it.

He’d gotten fed up with the elders of the clan, berating him for letting this dalliance go on as long as it did. He wasn’t ever going to have children that would be able to take over the head family anyway—and he didn’t want to subject them to the same things that he’d been forced to endure. The pain of knowing that in the end, all you were to your family was expendable. And now he was looking for Itachi, knowing that this was the time that the other was training or being briefed in the ANBU headquarters, and that no one, shinobi or otherwise, could find it unless they were a member.

Shadows flitted overhead and he activated the Byakugan, catching a glimpse of the telltale Zodiac masks. Debating tailing them and realizing that it’d be useless as they’d detect him immediately, Neji instead drifted in the general direction, hoping to see more and to appear as just out for a walk. He did glimpse more of the black-and-white streaks, eventually finding himself in the warehouse district. All of these seemed abandoned, locked up, and he wandered among them.

“Hyuuga Neji. Strange place to be out for a stroll.”

Turning, he saw a masked ANBU standing behind him. Neji got the sense that Itachi had been tailing him since he started drifting in this direction. “I was looking for something, Yuki.” It felt strange not saying Itachi’s name, but there were protocols to follow.

“Oh?”

“Something that can’t be found.”

“….come with me, Hyuuga Neji-san. I am going to cover your eyes and trust you not to use the Byakugan.”

Trustingly, the Hyuuga let his eyes be tied with a strip of black cloth and carried by the older man. It seemed they’d been going an hour before they stopped, and he was lowered to the ground. They were inside a room in one of the warehouses, where the headman’s office would be if it were occupied. Outside, the ANBU collected their missions and departed, or checked back in from missions. Itachi removed his mask and put it on a desk nearby.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, leaning back on the desk.

Neji tried to put his troubles into words and found he couldn’t, because here and now, it was a thousand years and a thousand miles from here. It was strange, finding oneself reliant on another for well-being—but when he thought about it, he realized Itachi felt the same way.

“Not anymore,” he said. “I just wanted to visit you at work.”

Itachi raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. “You aren’t seeing much today. It’s been fairly slow lately, we’re really just practicing. Many new members arrived with the last exam.”

Itachi changed into street clothes and they left, wandering the streets for hours talking about nothing and finding comfort in everything. The Uchiha seemed to have a tacit understanding of Neji’s problems and steered them away from the Hyuuga compound as much as possible. But eventually, Neji had to go home. Outside the gate, he paused.

“Neji,” he said slowly. “If you ever need somewhere to go to get away from your family…my window is the third on the east wall of the main Uchiha house. My parents will take care of you if I am out on a mission.”

“I—“

“Don’t. Clan families are shit.” Something strange glinted in Itachi’s eye. “I wish sometimes that I could kill them all.”

Neji stepped away from him and opened the gate. “They’re family,” he said quietly. “They would always haunt me.”

In their beds that night, they finally realized that they’d had their first argument.

Neji had left one whirlwind of solstice preparation and stepped into a hurricane.

The Uchiha house was full of servants and family members rushing about, putting up decorations, preparing food, cleaning the house from top to bottom—it almost dwarfed the Hyuugas in their flurry to get things done, but it fell a little short. The Hyuugas, being the most established, had to overdo everything. Neji was usually called on for something, but he’d escaped to the Uchiha compound to visit Itachi, and found himself in the kitchen, watching the older man cook. It was then that Neji realized something.

Itachi couldn’t cook.

“It’ll be better if you use this spice, rather than the one the recipe says,” he shot in helpfully, holding a small jar out. Scowling, Itachi took it and then didn’t know how much to put in—and Neji ended up cooking the rest of it. While they were letting it simmer, they had a snack at the table. Mikoto came in, looked at them, checked the things on the stove, and looked back at them.

“Neji did this, didn’t he?” she asked sharply. Wondering if he did something wrong, Neji nodded. Mikoto grinned suddenly.

“It’ll be edible then,” she said impishly, and went back out.

Neji felt a little guilty after he helped with the rest of the dishes. On their way back home, he tried to say something but Itachi waved it off.

“It’s nothing. I don’t want to poison my entire extended family.” There was an awkward silence; Neji remembered the look in Itachi’s eyes. I wish sometimes that I could kill them all.

“You think too much, Neji.” Itachi’s lips brushed over his own. “People say things in passing that they don’t mean.”

“I know.”

“Then stop worrying. If I planned to kill my family, do you think I would announce it to a jounin?”

Neji shook his head, reassured. “No, you wouldn’t. Good night, Itachi.”

“Sleep well, Neji. Come over tomorrow.”

“I will. Good night.”

It was too damn cold, he decided. Winter had decided to rain and then freeze on them, turning the streets treacherous even for him, and hopeless for anyone else. The bitter wind caught at his hair, the brittle strands moving idly over his coat. Pale hands, reddened from the cold, sought out the door he knew to belong to the one person he wanted to see. They knocked softly—once, twice.

The door slid open slowly after a pause. “Itachi,” Neji said, stifling a yawn with his hand. “What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?”

“It’s thirty-two minutes past ten at night, and you have a mission tomorrow, I know,” Itachi said with his usual level voice. “This is going to sound strange, but—do you mind if I stay tonight? My family…”

Neji looked at him sleepily another moment before pushing the screen open more. Grateful, Itachi took off his shoes and came in. Neji was building up the fire in the fireplace and held out a blanket for him, wrapping it tightly around his shoulders.

“What are you doing outside?”

“Getting away from my family.”

Neji came over and Itachi opened the blanket; wordlessly Neji picked himself up and curled up next to Itachi. Slowly the Uchiha felt warmth from the fire and warmth from his lover creep through him and sighed.

“Thank you, Neji.”

Hidden against Itachi’s shoulder, Neji smiled. “It’s nothing. Let me get some sleep tonight.”

They fell asleep in front of the warm fire as the winter cold spun itself out around them.

Putting the last piece of clothing he’d need into his bag, Neji pulled it shut and left, leaping across rooftops to the Uchiha compound. Itachi was waiting, and they walked back to his house. The Uchiha family, sans Sasuke, had invited Neji to go along with them to their vacation house to welcome the New Year, and he was staying the night before. It would be his first night over at their house. Sasuke would be with his own friends.

They took off their shoes and stepped inside, and were immediately met with activity. Mikoto took Neji’s bag and put it with the other bags to go in the morning. They trailed after her, Neji looking around at the part of the house he’d never gotten to see at the parties he attended. They were held up in the kitchen by the appearance of Sasuke.

“Itachi!” he said, crossing his arms. “You said you’d—“

“Another time, Sasuke,” Itachi said, cutting him off. “I’ve got a guest tonight.”

“Whatever, I’ll be at Naruto’s, then. Who’s your guest anyway—Neji?!”

“Nice to see you again, Sasuke,” Neji replied politely. He’d never been really close to the younger Uchiha, but liked to think they were on good terms.

“What are you doing with Itachi?” Sasuke demanded. His brow furrowed in almost exactly the way that his older brother’s did when he was trying to puzzle something out.

“Your brother and I…uh…”

“Sasuke! There you are. Come with me, I need another pair of hands.”

Itachi waited until his mother had disappeared into the front of the house, dragging a protesting Sasuke after her, and then grabbed Neji’s hand, leading him through hallways and past manicured rock gardens into the residential area of the house. Despite his composure, Neji could feel excitement building in him. They hadn’t been able to see each other since that one night and day after Solstice. Apparently Itachi had felt it too, because there was an urgency in his step as they went down a long hallway and finally stopped at a door that the Hyuuga had never seen before.

As soon as they were both inside the room and the door was shut, Itachi pressed him back against one of the columns that held up the roof, lips seeking a kiss that Neji willingly returned. It deepened and took on a life of its own as his hands flew out, grabbing Itachi’s shirt to drag him closer. The Hyuuga did not believe in the romance-novel kind of love, but knew on some level that this was not the fairy-tale, sparkles-and-rainbows love that the girls at the academy tittered about or that raunchy old men like Jiraiya-sama wrote about. He hadn’t asked for a storybook romance, and he didn’t want one.

Besides, this was better.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

“What’s up, Sasuke? You look all outta breath-ttebayo. Gettin’ outta shape? Hehe, the pervy hermit said I was—“

“Naruto, we’ve got an emergency.”

The blonde was instantly on alert, opening the window up fully so Sasuke could climb in off the sill. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Neji’s with Itachi.”

“So? Aren’t they—“

“Naruto, he’s with Itachi.”

“I’m sure they can take care of themselves, datteba—“

“Dumbass! Neji is going out with Itachi.”

“Oh!” The blond took a moment to process this information, then screwed up his face. “I always knew your brother was gay!”

Sasuke was tearing out his hair in frustration. “We have to do something. We have to keep them from…doing anything.”

“Ew! That’s gross, idiot!”

“I know, that’s why we’re going to stop them. C’mon, I’ve got a few ideas.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Neji’s breath was on his neck, and he could feel that the Hyuuga was losing control. His own heartbeat was swift, pounding in his ears as he dragged his nails down Neji’s back and smirked when he was rewarded with a groan and white eyes darkened to an exotic lavender shade with his desire—

Feet pounded on the boards outside and they stilled, not daring to breathe. The voices got louder, becoming distinct people.

“It’s great that you’ve got that new scroll from Kakashi-sensei, Sasuke!” they heard Naruto practically scream. “You’re great for wanting to share it with me. Maybe you aren’t such a bastard anymore. Hey, is your brother home?” Three loud bangs on the door, so hard it shook.

They scrambled to get off of each other. Neji sat crosslegged on the bed, shifting just so. “Are you going to the door like that?”

Itachi scowled at him. “I’m in ANBU. I know how to hide things.”

He slid open the door, there was a quick, sharp exchange, and Itachi slid the door shut again. Neji admired the way he moved—graceful, purposeful. Uchiha Itachi was the poster child for shinobi, and they were still talking about him in the Academy.

And, he found out, kissing boys wasn’t that different from kissing girls. Better, because Itachi seemed to know just when he’d reached the point where he would need more than just kisses to feed the fire, and would smoothly—

They ignored the footsteps pounding up and down the hall again. Itachi’s lips moved from Neji’s mouth to his neck, kissing and biting experimentally, and when Neji responded (awkwardly, they were still learning), he bit a little harder and drew a low moan from the Hyuuga, seated in his lap. Itachi dug his nails into the cloth of his lover’s pants, dark eyes intensely watching for—

“Itachi! Your stupid brother wants—“

“I don’t care. Tell outoto he can find it himself. I’ve got a guest.” He lightly scratched his nails over Neji’s thighs, and his breath hitched in his throat when the other pushed back against him and their hips—

“Aniki! I can’t find the big shuri—“

“Go away, Sasuke.”

“Help me find it! I’ll tell Mom!”

Frustrated, he reluctantly nudged Neji off his lap and scrubbed his face, trying to picture the least arousing thing he could. Sensei in a dress…Sensei in Mother’s dress…Neji, naked—no, Sensei in a pink, frilly apron…my damn brother…

When he pushed the door open with a snap, the two teens outside both quieted a moment. Itachi leaned forward so the suspicious bulge in the front of his pants wasn’t as pronounced, and his annoyance seethed around him, keeping their attention on his face. “What is it you want, stupid outoto?”

For once, he saw real fear in his brother’s eyes. “N-nothing,” Sasuke said, backing away. “I just remembered. I know where it is. Come on, Naruto.”

Shutting the door after them, they weren’t alone for five minutes when Mikoto knocked on the door. “Boys! I have your dinner! Eat up, it’s late, and then get to bed! We leave at dawn tomorrow!”

Chewing on his food, crabby, Itachi pushed the rice around on the tray with his chopsticks. “I apologize, Neji. My family is a lot of fools.”

The Hyuuga shook his head. “It’s nothing. Your brother was working especially hard to disrupt us, and it worked.” Something changed in his eyes, a secretive look that to his knowledge only Itachi had seen. “It won’t be the same next time.”

“No, it won’t,” Itachi agreed. A look passed between them, and they went back to their food, leaving the trays outside the door when they were finished and curling up together in the bed to sleep.

The village the vacation house was near to had a large festival at New Year’s, and the two of them had been out late. It had been cold, but there had been dancing and good drinks to warm them, and they rose late the next morning. Fugaku and Mikoto had gone back much earlier, just after nightfall, and it was their noise that woke Itachi and Neji from what had been a very sound sleep.

“Good morning!” Mikoto chirped as she set some boxes down on the floor of the main room. “There’s still some food left over for breakfast. Help yourself, it’s on the counter.” Hungry, they drifted into the kitchen and ate their breakfast while waiting for water to boil for tea. Fugaku came in at one point, glared at them and told them to sit at the table like civilized men, and left again under Mikoto’s orders.

“Oh—boys, come out here!”

Putting their used trays in the sink and pouring tea, Neji followed Itachi to where Mikoto was surrounded by a pile of dusty photo albums, looking triumphant. “I’ve found Itachi’s baby pictures—“

“Mother…”

“—and I thought you’d like to see them, Neji. Here!” She put an album in his lap and got on her knees, opening it and turning the pages. “He always looked more like his father than like me—Sasuke was the one who took after me. And his expression was always so serious, even as a baby. When he was born, he didn’t cry at all—it’s true!” She giggled, giddy as a schoolgirl.

Amused, Neji shifted his cup to one hand and turned the pages of the album, coming across one of a five-year-old Itachi holding his brother; Sasuke could have been about a year, but was probably just a little bit younger. He looked over at Itachi, who was scowling into his tea. “You looked a lot alike.”

“We still would, if it weren’t for his ridiculous hair.”

“Itachi,” Mikoto said warningly. “Sasuke’s hairstyle is his choice.”

“He looks like the back end of a chicken.”

“It’s not polite to tease your brother, Itachi. Look here, this was at his graduation…”

They spent the better part of the afternoon going through the old albums, until Fugaku told them to stop being slothful and help clean the rest of the house.

“Be sure to watch out for wild animals.”

“We know, Mother.”

“And dress warmly. It might be turning spring but it’s still cold at night.”

“We know.”

“Do you have enough food?”

“We’ll only gone until Friday, Mother. And we can hunt if we need more.”

“You never know! I’m responsible for Neji, too, and if he gets hurt I’ll have Hiashi after me, and he gets so scary when he’s upset—“

“We’ll be fine, Mother. If something goes wrong we can be back here in less than two hours.”

Mikoto looked them over a last time, her mother’s eye sizing them up, before smiling. “I suppose you’ll be all right. But be careful.”

Gathering chakra in his feet, Itachi leapt off into the forest. Neji bowed and thanked her, then took off after him, moving quickly; their destination was a secluded, sheltered canyon some distance away. It didn’t take them long to get to wilderness; large areas of land between villages were undeveloped, unmapped even. As entertaining as the vacation house was, they only had a few days left before they had to return to Konoha and missions, and they intended to make the most of it.

It took them exactly two hours to reach the canyon, and another half an hour to find a suitable site. They’d brought a tent—it was far too cold to put their bedrolls outside, even with a fire—and set it up, storing their things inside, taking food, and setting out on a hike to the ridgeline behind them.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They had sex for the first time that night. It was strange, sticky, and nothing like what Neji had learned about—of course, he’d learned about heterosexual intercourse, not between two men. But as he lay on his back with Itachi’s head pillowed on his chest, the Hyuuga thought that perhaps it wasn’t all that bad. Smiling to himself, Neji ran his fingers through Itachi’s damp hair again. No, not bad at all.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

“Neji, have you ever been in love?”

He paused in packing up their bedrolls, looking over at his lover. Itachi had that Uchiha Look, the one that meant he had something on his mind and was working it out. “...never.”

Itachi nodded to himself, seeming to have reached some kind of conclusion, and resumed helping Neji get their things out of the tent so they could take it down. The rest of the day, all the way home, he had that look. Neji attributed it to having to go back to work and thinking about the missions he’d have to endure. Camping always relaxed him, and going back to normal routine after this vacation was going to rattle him.

“Let me know when your mission’s over,” Neji said as they walked back into the house. “It’ll be spring. Soon all the trees will start to blossom.”

Itachi looked over at him, unreadable as ever. “I will,” he replied, and they stepped inside.

“Gai-sensei once told me that we should be like cherry blossoms as shinobi.”

Itachi watched as Neji pulled a single blossom off a nearby branch and cupped it in his hands. It stirred a little in the wind.

“We are to be unmoving, but flexible. Appear delicate, but have inner strength. Be able to be blown in all directions but still land on our feet. An impressive list, don’t you think? No wonder so many of us go mad.” The Hyuuga pursed his lips and blew the blossom out of his palm. They watched as it settled among others on the ground. More were caught in Neji’s hair, stark against the rich brown.

“Of course, it’s Gai-sensei, so who knows if he meant any of it or not?”

Neji’s hand found his on the blanket, and he felt petals fall to earth.

“Perhaps being a shinobi is meant to put us in early graves.”

Itachi looked over sharply. “Shinobi are in love with death. It is our currency.”

Neji returned his look, for once the more calm and level of the two. “Death is beautiful.”

Itachi never decided if Neji had been talking about him.

Itachi finally opened his eyes and sat up, rubbing at them as he had when he was young. Something was wrong, he was sure of it. He’d told the Hokage that this was a job for the ANBU and not for jounin, but she’d given him that piercing look of hers and sent him out. The Hokage always managed to make him feel like an academy student caught sneaking out…but he’d been right, hadn’t he? Something had gone wrong and in this, the last real rain of the year before the heat came back, no one had noticed. Why else would Neji be late? Neji was never late.

Pacing his room, the Uchiha tried to think of what could be done. He could go out and look for Neji—but then he risked falling to whatever was holding them up. He could call up a search party—and risk losing face, something that his proud father wouldn’t appreciate. Or he could sit and wait—yes, that was the only option, as much as he hated it.

At last, after he’d settled down to wait (tense and worried, he’d brought out his weaponry to clean and polish) he finally heard their distinct signal on the outside door. Schooling himself to a walk, not a run, he slid the door open and pushed it all the way when he was sure. Neji looked exhausted, but still Itachi grabbed him roughly and held him close. He felt the Hyuuga heave a sigh and slip his arms around Itachi. “Where were you?”

“Giving my report. Gai-sensei wouldn’t let us leave without it this time.” Looking up, Neji arched an eyebrow. “Worried?”

Itachi kissed him, not caring who saw them out in the open like this; if they had a problem with it, he would take it up with them personally.

“Don’t be late again,” he said, deadpan once more, pushing Neji inside and shutting the door.

“It’s been a year, hasn’t it?”

They were in the gardens at the Hyuuga compound, enjoying the cool morning air. It would get hot later, but for now it was pleasant, and in a bout of wanting to enjoy the sunshine for once out of the month they had wandered outside. Itachi had been hanging back, watching Neji and only half admiring the late-blooming flowers, and now he looked over, thinking back.

“A little more, actually,” he replied slowly. Has it really been that long?

Neji was looking back at him, white eyes steady and calm. Itachi now knew that those eyes could absorb the colors around them and sparkle like opals, or reflect them and stay the pure color of white foam on a wave. He’d seen them narrowed in anger and concentration, glazed over with lust, and dazed with exhaustion. But there were still parts of the Hyuuga that Itachi hadn’t seen.

“I never thought…” Neji paused, absently touching the petals of a lily.

“…that we could stand each other this long?” Itachi finished, looking at him quizzically.

“The saying is that opposites attract. We are hardly opposite each other.”

“Who says that only opposites attract?”

Neji shook his head, amused. “I never thought I would end up discussing relationships with Uchiha Itachi in a garden in the Hyuuga compound.” They were silent for a while after that, taking a seat near the little reflecting pool and watching the fish dart around between the water plants.

“Neji?”

Settled comfortably against Itachi’s side, Neji looked up at him, and Itachi knew the answer without asking the question, and began to think that maybe, just maybe, all the bullshit he got from his family was at least bearable. Looking back at the fish, he smiled slowly.

“So, what do you want to do on Friday?”