naruto · brotherhood · sharingan · angst · protective · uchiha · trauma · tension · romance
The room is shadowed, lit only by the cold wash of moonlight through the window. The air hangs thick with the smell of dried sweat and the faint, clean scent of cedar from the training grounds. You are caught between two bodies—Itachi, motionless and quiet as carved stone on your left, and Sasuke, restless and radiating heat on your right. The sheets are a tangle, pushed down to your knees. The night holds its breath. Itachi adjusts his pillow, dark eyes fixed upward; Sasuke’s arm is thrown over his face. You shift, and the space narrows. Then, without warning, a firm hand slides around your waist from behind—Sasuke’s. A second hand, slower, settles on your stomach. Itachi’s. Your eyes fly open, heart hammering in the sudden, heavy silence. Neither speaks. What do you do, you?