Work Text:
They told him it was a training accident.
And although Sasuke was still entirely unconvinced that a training session with Sakura could put him in a coma for a week, Kakashi had never lied to him before—he doubted he'd start now.
Overall, when the embarrassment wore off, he was just glad to be back home to focus on planning the chuunin exams and get them over with. This year he was appointed battle consultant, expected to help curate showdowns based on the participants' skill set. It was partly a badge of honour and partly a pain in the ass; he hadn't made up his mind yet on whether he hated or enjoyed it—possibly a little bit of both.
His mother thankfully kept her fussing to a minimum, affording him enough peace and quiet to finish drafting his proposal. On the other hand, whatever subtle glow his father managed to acquire in response to Sasuke's involvement in the exams was entirely lost following his recent 'accident'. He made his disapproval very clear in every interaction, practically radiating displeasure as he haunted their home's hallways, lacking all distractions in the absence of Itachi.
Preoccupied as he was, it had taken Sasuke a few days to even notice that Itachi's presence had dwindled down to mealtimes with the family and then almost exclusively to dinnertime. But the moment he took note of that change, Sasuke became instantly suspicious; Itachi seemed to have acquired a newfound aura of contentedness that he basked in, and he could be found with a perpetual smile curving the corner of his mouth lately.
Sasuke's first conjecture was that his brother had found himself a girlfriend. The truth, as he would learn later that week, was much, much worse.
It was a Tuesday evening, unremarkable on all accounts, that found Sasuke at his cousin's doorstep. His mother had insisted—no, demanded—that Sasuke invite Shisui to dine with them as they hadn't seen hair nor hide of the cheery Uchiha in a few weeks now.
Sasuke was going to knock, of course; his mother hadn’t raised a barbarian. But Sasuke hadn't really accounted for the sudden surge of curiosity that would seize him the moment he sensed the presence of two other familiar chakras in the vicinity.
Itachi and Sakura were currently occupying Shisui's house. Shisui himself was there; Sasuke could sense all three chakras rippling wildly, sparks flying in the dead of the night, lighting up the house like a beacon.
For a split second, Sasuke feared they were doing drugs. In the time he'd spent shadowing his father at the police precinct, he'd been in close quarters with many junkies and had come to recognise this wild fluctuation of chakra as ecstasy. But he promptly dismissed the assumption.
Itachi, nevermind Sakura, would never be caught dead doping.
Curious, Sasuke's feet carried him around the house and through Shisui's carefully manicured garden. He kept his chakra tightly leashed as he trespassed to the window and peeked into the living room.
Sasuke nearly dropped the vegetables he had been carrying home to his mother at what he saw.
His first reaction was to tightly shut his eyes against the invasive sight.
But when he opened them again, the scene in front of him remained much the same. There was Sakura, topless and cradled in Shisui's arms as their lips moved together, and there was Itachi, moving the curtain of her hair aside to lavish the back of her shoulder with kisses.
Rapid blinking did not make the scene vanish either, much to his chagrin.
Sakura was still sandwiched between his brother and cousin, grinding in Shisui's lap as her arm reached back to tangle in Itachi's hair and drew away from Shisui’s kiss to open her mouth against his brother’s.
Pinching himself only stung.
Sakura seemed to enjoy it when Shisui did the same to her nipples. Her head lolled back, leading Shisui's mouth to stray down the column of her neck and transcend lower until he had one perky nipple caught in his mouth. Sakura's moan could be heard through the thin glass.
Sasuke stumbled away from the window, filled with so much disbelief he couldn't hope to shut his gaping mouth. The image was vividly burned into his memory, and yet part of him still wondered if he'd imagined it.
But why would he imagine something so ... disturbing?
Sasuke collected himself as much as possible and traipsed back to Shisui's doorstep, his insides still reeling from shock.
It took a few moments to gather the will to knock. It took several longer moments for Shisui to answer, moments Sasuke spent stewing, nearly seething. Why, just why did he have to witness that?
The door opened to reveal a somewhat composed Shisui, but Sasuke knew him too well to ignore all the signs that painted him as utterly riled up.
He'd come this far, and now they were face to face with the knowledge of what Sasuke just witnessed still playing in his mind; he hadn't really planned on how to get the words out.
"Yes?" Shisui prompted, forgoing greetings, undoubtedly wondering why Sasuke looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
Grasping at his disintegrating composure, Sasuke said, just a little dazedly, "My—my mother wants you to, um, come over for dinner."
Shisui managed a smile. "What time?"
"Nine," Sasuke said, thankfully without any more stammering. He'd already embarrassed himself enough.
And wasn't it ironic that he was the one feeling embarrassed when it was Shisui who was caught doing— Sasuke banished the memory again with a minute shudder. "Will you be there?"
"Nine should be fine," Shisui decided. "Is that all?"
Sasuke gave him a curt nod.
"Alright, see ya then," Shisui said and began to close the door.
Sasuke caught a glimpse of hot red lingerie on the floor before the door clicked shut.
He despaired all the way home. Surely no one would blame him for skipping dinner that night, not when he faked being ill so well.
Fuck.
xXx
Sasuke was going crazy.
His brain has officially turned against him, assaulting him with images of his half-naked teammate. At this rate, he might be 'accidentally' put into a coma again.
Sakura cracked her knuckles as she readied herself to attack once more. "What's up with you?" she asked, clueless of the knowledge he had gleaned that cursed Tuesday, knowledge he had no idea what to do with yet and would desperately rather forget.
"What do you mean?" he deflected, sparks igniting along his fingertips as he prepared to counter her assault.
They clashed, Sasuke forcing himself into close quarters, where she was really equally as lethal as from any distance away. Sometimes he missed the days when Sakura was a no-good fangirl and her hits weren't brutally bruising.
"You look like you've been chewing a sour lemon." Sakura ducked, and her hit glanced his side.
It jarred his ribs and nearly winded him.
Perhaps he should reconsider close quarters when he was this distracted lest she killed him without meaning to.
"I'm just busy with the exams, Sakura." He hadn't meant to snap at her, but Sasuke still felt personally victimised by her actions. And he couldn't silence the part of him that was angry at Sakura for going after his brother after having spent years pining after him. Was she upgrading? Downgrading? What did she make of her own predicament?
What about Shisui? How the hell did Sakura lure his brother and cousin?
Her next hit landed too close for comfort, and a snarl wrenched from between her locked teeth. He'd angered her now, which was honestly the last thing he needed ... Sakura had learned to be vicious.
Later, with his ribs aching but with a match that concluded in a draw after three hours of relentless sparring, Sasuke trudged home with a sulk.
He'd debated confronting his brother or Shisui or even Sakura (although that last one wouldn't be wise at all), but ultimately Sasuke decided against it. He had no idea what to say, and despite how much it frustrated him, it wasn't his business. All he could do was hope it was a one-time thing.
(Kami, this was messing up all his preconceptions of his brother. It put Itachi in a completely different light outside the idealistic one Sasuke had placed him under. Just how much did Sasuke not know about his own older brother?)
He was glad to find Itachi absent when he arrived home; he didn't think he could face him then. (How much did Itachi dote on Sakura? Did he love her too? Had she become more important than Sasuke?)
He shook the thoughts away. They were for fickle minds, weaker men, and he was anything but.
"Sasu-chan, can you collect Itachi's laundry with yours? He's not coming home tonight," his mother's trill pierced through the house.
His mind instantly leapt to the scene from that odious Tuesday, much as it had been doing lately. He grumbled all the way to his brother's door, wanting to be done with this and the intrusive thoughts.
He really should have known better.
As they'd grown older, there seemed to be unsaid boundary rules put into place: Sasuke did not go into Itachi's room, and Itachi did not enter Sasuke's room unless explicitly invited in.
Itachi's personal space was unremarkable in many aspects at first glance, weapons, clothes, and the pile of books he possessed.
But there in his laundry, he could see a pair of soiled panties.
Sasuke shut his eyes, angry again, that he had borne witness to his brother's depraved escapades. His mind was already spiralling again, wondering if Sakura had been here, in his home, in Itachi's bed while all of them remained blissfully ignorant. Or worse, had Itachi purposefully brought her panties back with him?
He shuddered.
He couldn't collect that basket nearly fast enough, and when he arrived at the laundry room, he all but tossed everything in the washing machine with utter disregard to what he could damage in the process.
Hadn't he suffered enough?
xXx
He shouldn't have jinxed it. The thought came to him hazy and half-formed not even two nights later.
He was stunned again to find himself in the same situation as the one he had been in that Tuesday he'd come to refer to as the Tuesday of Doom.
At Sakura's balcony this time.
The intercom in Sakura's building was broken and her tardy landlady hadn't gotten around to fixing it yet, so it was common for the members of Team Seven to knock on her window when they visited her.
Today, it was a special set of circumstances that brought Sasuke there. Curse Kakashi for demanding a surprise meeting.
For once, Sakura's curtains weren't fully drawn, almost as if she'd hastily yanked them closed. It left a crack in the middle, wide enough for Sasuke to see the scene that would haunt him forever.
There on her queen-sized bed was Sakura, on her hands and knees, her face buried in his brother's crotch as Shisui rammed full force into her.
Heck, he could hear them, hear the grunts emanating from Shisui, the muffled moans coming from Sakura, and the hitching sounds bursting from Itachi.
In the next second, before Sasuke could hope to react, to turn around and leave, Shisui pulled out of her, his hand gripping the base of his cock and jerking himself. Wide-eyed, Sasuke watched his seed coating Sakura's lower back, his body curling forward and the tendons in his neck and jaw jumping.
It was utterly depraved, something out of a pornographic movie. Sasuke couldn't believe his eyes, couldn't believe his ears.
Shisui bent down and promptly buried his face between her legs as his brother continued to use her mouth for his own oral pleasures.
Repulsed, but somewhat disturbingly turned on, Sasuke escaped from Sakura's balcony and into the sanctuary of the grocery store two buildings away.
It was becoming ridiculous, he thought as he stared numbly at the display of ice cream in the coolers. He had never wanted this burden, these defiled views of his brother and cousin and teammate.
He had never imagined any of them would ever engage in a threesome, not even Shisui, who was by all accounts brazen and audacious in most of his actions. This seemed like an infinite nightmare with no end in sight.
Sasuke reached for the ice cream without conscious thought. He purchased it without conscious thought either, operating on autopilot.
And then he returned to Kakashi, one teammate short and without a single, logical explanation he could offer, but with one measly carton of ice cream in hand. He passed it over to Kakashi, heedless of possible retributions.
He nearly revelled in the bruising spar that followed as punishment—at least it momentarily purged the memories from his mind.
xXx
It happened again. And again. And again.
It seemed they had made it their life’s mission to bruise every solid surface, to steal every last bit of Sasuke's innocence. And Sakura was a vision, as much as he hated to admit it. The more he saw of her, the more she visited his dreams, the more she inhabited his thoughts.
There she was again, passionate in her display as she rode Shisui at her pace, unhurriedly, basking in the intimacy of two bodies joined as one. Sasuke couldn’t help but watch her, even as his brother did the same from his perch on Shisui’s couch.
Her fingers sank into her own hair, touched her own body. Her lips parted soundlessly as she threw her head back and held onto her perky breasts.
She was a vision, and he was but a man, helpless to banish her from his memory.
Seeing her like this left him conflicted. It was wrong to know, let alone see the things she got up to in her own time. It didn’t help that it involved his brother and cousin, which scarred parts of his brain that would probably never heal.
Every time he saw them like this, he couldn’t help but observe the way they seemed to curl into each other like they were one. There was something there he had no name for.
Itachi touched her with such reverence, it always left him breathless. And Shisui bruised her skin in his passion like he wished to brand her with his touch.
At first he’d wondered how she’d lured them both in—but now he’d begun to think perhaps it was her they lured in. There was no question when it came to the heady desire both men displayed.
A handful of accidental peeks and he’d already learned them—learned Itachi’s love for the skin of her neck and Shisui’s reverence for her creamy tits, Sakura’s abandon and willingness to display herself, to receive, to be ravished.
She’d lie bare across tangled sheets, milky legs endless, taut stomach shuddering and chest flushed and heaving for their viewing pleasure. At times, those legs would part, and he'd see the glistening pink space within as she reached down and teased herself for them.
Shisui always broke first, burying his face in her like he craved her taste more than air.
Itachi was more restrained; where Shisui’s passion was explosive, Itachi’s ebbed and flowed in crashing waves … he seemed to sweep Sakura away with his mouth and hands and eyes.
She always seemed to sink into them without inhibition.
And here was Sasuke, many nights later, trying to draft proposals when all he could see in his mind’s eye was them. Always one step from completion, always on the edge they crested together.
It wasn’t fair, Sasuke couldn’t help but think, it wasn’t fair of them to do this to him, even inadvertently.
He’d give anything to forget.
He tried to banish the thoughts. Again and again and again.
And again, he failed.
xXx
It was time he took matters into his own hands. He found his steely resolve on another accursed Tuesday when he somehow, as always, by some bedeviled force of nature, ended up witnessing things that made his eyes want to bleed.
It was time to put an end to his unintended voyeurism.
Sasuke took a deep breath. After a prolonged internal struggle, he figured the best strategy would be to work his way out from his innermost circle.
That resulted in him fidgeting awkwardly at his brother's door.
Taking another deep breath, Sasuke raised his hand and knocked.
When Itachi opened the door, he was rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Perhaps Sasuke should have done this at a different hour—it was well past midnight after all. But he couldn’t wait another day.
“Did something happen?” Itachi yawned. His hair was down, loose strands falling over his shoulders. There, under the low v-neck collar of his shirt, a bruise peeked out that Sasuke immediately tried to forget.
“Um, yes. Can we talk?” Sasuke asked unsurely. Part of him immediately wanted to flee under the sudden alert scrutiny of a concerned Itachi. Why was it that his brother always made him feel like a little child again with a single look?
The door swept open, and Itachi stepped back in clear invitation. Sasuke only hesitated a moment before joining him in his room. His eyes refused to stray anywhere, lest he witness another tidbit of Sakura’s ventures into the world of debauchery.
Itachi settled on his bed. Sasuke took the safer option and lowered himself onto his study chair. He wondered if there remained an untainted piece of furniture in this room. Just where else had they been?
“Okay,” Itachi prompted. “Tell me what happened.”
Ha. And what was Sasuke supposed to say now? ‘Hey big bro, can you please stop banging my teammate over every available surface within my access, because I’m now scarred for life?’
Yeah, that’ll go along smoothly. Sasuke thought with a scoff.
“I … wanted to ask you … if perhaps … you’ve been seeing someone?” Sasuke bit the inside of his lip. That was a safe place to start, right?
Itachi’s eyebrows rose curiously. “What do you think?”
He hated when Itachi did that thing where he reversed all his questions so that Sasuke became the recipient. It always became a guessing game where Sasuke had to dance over figurative landmines as he delicately tried to extract answers.
He took the plunge. “I think you’re seeing Sakura.”
“Does that bother you?” Itachi’s face had gone impressively blank.
Did it bother Sasuke? Yes, a lot. But probably not for the reasons Itachi would imagine. “So it’s true? You’re dating her?”
His emphasis on ‘dating’ wasn’t lost on Itachi. “Yes, what else did you think I was doing?”
Fuck, Sasuke thought with rising panic. There was no delicate way to put this.
“Um,” he stammered and internally wished for the ground to swallow him. “It—It seemed like a fling?”
Itachi blinked, clearly taken aback. “Why in the world would you think I’m having a fling with your teammate?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. “W-well, uh, isn’t she seeing Shisui, too?”
Itachi was staring at him. Sasuke could feel it—he would have been able to see it too if he dared to look up from the floor.
“What makes you think she’s seeing Shisui too?”
Hadn’t he beat around the bush enough? Sasuke stalled for a few heartbeats, but eventually he had to open his mouth and confess. “Nii-san … I think it’s best we stop circling around this. I … I saw some stuff. Multiple stuffs. And I think it’s only fair you should know you’re not being as discreet as you think.”
Dare he say he was terrified?
When he chanced a glance at Itachi, his brother looked completely caught off guard. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “What kind of stuff?”
Yep, there was dawning horror in Itachi’s voice, and it was too late for Sasuke to turn around and walk away. In the space of a few tense moments, Sasuke regretted all his life choices, including being born. “Stuff,” he stressed through a burning blush. “Stuff I really, really didn’t want to see.”
“Sasuke, no,” Itachi said, horrified, as he lurched forward to grip Sasuke’s wrists. “You didn’t!”
The burning second-hand embarrassment turned into shame. “I’m so sorry, nii-san ... I really didn’t mean to witness any of that.”
Itachi had a constipated look on his face. “My baby brother,” he murmured mournfully, looking to the ceiling. “My innocent baby brother.”
Sasuke tried not to squirm under the weight of Itachi’s crushing dejection. He instantly wanted to comfort him, even when, in his humble opinion, it was his fractured sanity that required such sentiment. “Nii-san, I’m Sakura’s age, you know that, right?”
“Shh!” Itachi said, pained. He blocked Sasuke’s mouth with his hand. “You’re my innocent baby brother.”
Sasuke’s eyebrow twitched. Oh, the irony. He tried to speak around the blockage. “I’m not that innocent—”
“—Shh!” Itachi hissed again, a shudder working its way through his frame. “Don’t spare me the horror of ruining your innocence.”
Itachi despaired some more. Sasuke endured it in pained silence. The things I do for family ...
When Itachi relinquished his hold on his face, Sasuke said, a little flatly: “Are you done?”
Itachi rubbed his own face as he leaned back. When he dropped his hands, he had a serious and resolved look in his eyes. “I’m really sorry, Sasuke. But I would appreciate you not disclosing exactly what you saw to me or to anyone else for the matter.”
“Who would I tell?” Sasuke asked, appalled.
“Sakura,” Itachi said, frowning in concern. “Sasuke, you must understand … I really care for her. She would find this beyond humiliating.”
Sasuke would’ve believed that once upon a time. But the Sakura the last few encounters painted in his mind was a radically different person—she might as well have been another species altogether. He wasn’t going to tell anyone at any rate; he respected his brother too much for that.
“How did this start anyway?” Sasuke prodded. Simmering jealousy churned his gut at Itachi’s confession. It was abundantly clear how much he cared for Sakura.
Itachi’s face went blank again. “Otouto,” he said measuredly. “I have ruined your innocence enough as it is.”
Right. Of course. “Need not to know,” Sasuke said, flushing.
Itachi motioned him closer. “Now,” he said, and Sasuke helplessly flinched at the sudden sight of his Sharingan. “Forgive me, otouto, but it seems I simply can’t live knowing what’s in your head.”
“Itachi—” Sasuke moved to evade, but Itachi had the element of surprise on his side. He caught Sasuke with his red-eyed glare, and the world whirled away, leaving behind blissful darkness.
They told him it was a training accident.
Sasuke didn’t know why that sounded vaguely familiar, but his head was pounding, and he had a proposal he needed to finish drafting.
Itachi had never lied to him before—he had no reason to start now. Even if his brother looked particularly guilty as he helped nurse Sasuke back to being fully functional.
He’d count his blessings at any rate; Shisui was being especially helpful and Itachi especially attentive. Whatever had happened, it warranted their loving attention.
And Sasuke wasn’t above being pampered.