Adoration

Sasuke's POV

His father was out to get him.

Sasuke had always known that his father was disappointed in him due to his lack of what he dubbed, Itachi-esque genius. Fugaku compared him to Itachi so much that it had made him incredibly resentful growing up—it still did, though finding support from his always kind brother and making bonds outside of the clan that helped him had somewhat curbed the festering hate. Even if it didn't stop his unspoken desire to gain his father's approval. But he didn't actually think his father would do something that could very well end with him dead. In their home no less.

Never mind that his father didn't know he might actually die.

His ignorance on the matter was entirely, entirely unforgivable!

Why in the world did his father suddenly want to have a family dinner in the first place? He knew his mother hadn't put him up to it because Mikoto was too busy forcing her will upon the elders of the Hyuga council regarding Itachi and Hinata's wedding. And his mother always made sure to give him a few days advanced notice, so he could clear his schedule. His father, however, expected them to drop all plans and just... show up.

While Sasuke didn't usually have a problem with his father's overly demanding nature, he did have a problem with seeing Itachi a mere two days after that incident in his apartment where he'd stumbled upon Hinata shoved against a wall, her mouth open in a silent whine. So urgent was her need that her kimono had only been half-undone. Hinata had a look of utter intoxication on her face that Sasuke just couldn't shake. She was embedded in his mind at this point.

He remembered the way her body curved, how her shapely legs wrapped tightly around his brother's—

Sage, save me.

Sasuke shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts of his brother grunting, hilt deep inside—

Fuck no.

He ran his hands through his hair. So abrupt and so violent that the people in the street around him stopped to stare. It had been two days. Only two days. And Sasuke was already losing his mind in fear. He hadn't seen Itachi yet, and made it a point to stay away from all of his usual haunts. He also stuck around Naruto more often, knowing that if he was alone, Itachi would undoubtedly appear.

Somehow, he just knew that Itachi was taking his time, debating how best to maim him for stumbling upon that particular sight. Hell, his brother was probably watching him from a distance, smirking at the fact that just the thought of his retribution made Sasuke squirm in apprehension.

So, again, why did his father suddenly invite them all for a family dinner? Was this all part of Itachi's elaborate plan? It's not like he purposely meant to find them like that. Sure, maybe he should've knocked or at the very least informed Itachi that he'd be dropping by, but what was the point of giving him a key if he couldn't just step in unannounced?

It was an accident.

He shouldn't be punished for a damn accident!

But even his imminent doom wasn't enough to stop the feelings of not wanting to disappoint his father. So, against his better judgment, there he was—at his family home, seated at the dinner table and watching the front door with guarded eyes. He had purposely remained in his ninja clothes, despite the disapproving glances his mother shot him from the kitchen.

Sasuke was prepared to run at the first sign of trouble. Forget proper manners. They weren't useful to him dead.

His father was seated at the head of the table. Mikoto would sit to his left, Itachi to his right, and Sasuke—usually—beside Itachi. Tonight, however, he'd opted to occupy the empty seat beside Mikoto instead. It was where he'd usually sit when Hinata was over, and Sasuke made sure to walk over as nonchalantly as possible, so his father wouldn't question the sudden change. Sasuke was a man of routine when it came to certain things, like the color of his toothbrush or the way he folded his socks. Any break from that without proper reason was bound to arouse suspicion. It didn't help that he vividly remembered himself throwing tantrums when he was younger whenever the seat beside his brother was occupied by Shisui or some other house guest.

But if asked, he could chock it up to age or forgetfulness... or the excuse that Itachi might bring Hinata along.

Fat chance, Sasuke thought. He'd be lucky if Itachi would even let him catch a glimpse of the woman while he was in the village. Not that it mattered. I can always catch her when Itachi's out on missions. The thought made him smirk. He knew that drove Itachi absolutely mad.

All of his smug confidence immediately evaporated, however, when the front door suddenly opened and Itachi stepped inside.

There was a greeting from the kitchen that his brother acknowledged with a nod, before moving to take his shoes off. Itachi was dressed in his regular black cotton pants and shirt. Clearly off duty. Not that his relatively unthreatening appearance mattered. Sasuke's back still straightened at the sight of him. It was so noticeable that his father glanced at him questioningly. But Sasuke kept his gaze fixed firmly on Itachi's back, as he took off his shoes.

Sasuke's mouth was drawn into a thin line, prepared to bolt should his brother decide to make a move.

But to his surprise, the move never came.

Itachi took his usual seat, gave his usual greeting, even met Sasuke's eyes with the usual faux indifference. Somehow, his utter dismissal of the incident made Sasuke all the more wary. There was no way he was just letting it go. This was definitely a trick! Some strategy to make him let down his guard, so he could surprise him.

Sasuke tapped his fingers nervously on his knees, as his father and brother got into a deep discussion regarding the police force and some ninja they'd apprehended a week ago. Basic and uninteresting. Hardly worth his time. He only paid enough attention to answer when his opinion was asked for and to know why his father had called them for this impromptu dinner—to inform them of a few changes to the clan's schedule, as it turned out. Sasuke apparently needed to begin attending marriage meetings now that Itachi was officially off the market. But he'd worry about that when the time came.

For now, Itachi was the bigger concern.

But even as dinner was served and they all settled to eat their meals, Itachi was still the same quiet, stoic Itachi. It was enough to make him grip his knees until his knuckles turned white. His strange demeanor certainly didn't go unnoticed. Because just as dinner was ending, his mother turned to him with a worried look in her eye.

"Sasuke," she called, loud enough to bring everyone's attention to him. "What's the matter?"

He briefly met Itachi's suddenly menacing glare and gulped. That was the 'watch-your-words-or-risk-losing-your-tongue' look. It was unforgiving in its intensity.

Mikoto, always observant, noticed the exchange, even as Itachi took a nonchalant sip of his tea to hide his glare.

"Are you two fighting?" Mikoto continued, her tone disapproving.

"Of course not," Itachi immediately denied.

"Don't lie to your mother," came Fugaku's rebuttal.

"We aren't fighting," Itachi assured once more. He looked unflinchingly into Fugaku's eyes in a way only he was able to.

"Then what's wrong, Sasuke?" Mikoto prompted again.

An image of Itachi buried in Hinata immediately came to mind, before he blushed furiously and downed the hot tea in front of him.

When Sasuke remained stubbornly silent, Itachi opened his mouth to say something in their collective defense once more. But fuck if he didn't think about that scarring pleasured groan that left Itachi's lips two nights ago whenever he spoke. It was enough to overload his brain and make his nerves finally go haywire.

"Sasuke's just—"

"Itachi's sleeping with Hinata!" Sasuke blurted out, interrupting his older brother. As soon as the words left his lips, he covered his mouth with his hands. Like he was eight years old again and just told his mother that he saw Itachi make a girl cry with another one of his famously cold rejections.

Profound silence washed over the dining room.

Fugaku's chopsticks dropped with a clank.

Mikoto faltered.

Itachi's glare suddenly hardened. The expensive teacup in his hand cracked from the sheer pressure of his grip. The line of his jaw looked so strict that Sasuke was reminded of their father, who ever so slowly, turned his head toward his eldest son. There was discomfort in his face and in his eyes, but beneath that was a tempered fury. Itachi was about to get reprimanded, and if Sasuke was afraid before, then he was terrified now.

He was definitely going to be shoved into some awful genjutsu after this.

"You're... what?" Fugaku asked, at the same time Mikoto squealed, "Grandchildren!"

Itachi didn't even bother gracing them with a response. Without turning his head, his eyes shifted toward Sasuke creepily. They were a bloody red.

"Sasuke," he called.

The last thing Sasuke noted before breaking out into a run wasn't his mother's pleased smile or his father's put-off grimace, but Itachi... already at his back, ponytail swishing behind him. He went after him with an insane speed that Sasuke never seemed to be able to match. No matter how much he trained.

Sasuke was able to reach the Uchiha gates. Though he had a sinking feeling Itachi only let him get that far because he wanted to put some distance between them and their parents' house. Hopefully he'd let him go for just a bit longer. Sasuke already knew exactly what he needed to do. He'd have to head to the more crowded parts of the village, preferably the shopping districts, where many young women roamed the streets. Surely, their squeals would prove distracting enough for him to run away. And if they didn't, he'd just have to suffer a few hours in their safe company until itachi was called away—by his fellow ANBU or by his fiancée didn't matter. He was a busy man. He was always called away.

As Sasuke was turning, he chanced another glance back, wondering just how close his brother was.

What he saw made his stomach drop to his feet.

Itachi was right there.

His face perfectly stoic. His eyes bleeding red.

Sasuke gulped when one perfectly manicured hand stretched out, nearly crushing his shoulder. Only for the pain to lift. The pressure of his grip eased, then turned into a dull ache. He'd definitely have a bruise tomorrow. Sasuke's eyes widened, as Itachi raised his other hand. Extending two fingers, he poked his forehead with enough force to make him reel back.

"Foolish little brother," Itachi said, stepping back and sighing. He crossed his arms and stared at him. Aloof, yet fond. It made Sasuke feel as warm as it always did, and just for a moment, he forgot all about that little incident that had been seared into his mind for the last two days. "Why must you complicate things so much?"

"W—What..." Sasuke trailed off, rubbing his forehead. Happy, relieved, and utterly exhausted from the scare. Still, he kept his knees bent, prepared to run should Itachi suddenly decide to strike. "You're not going to..."

"To what?" Itachi asked, lifting a brow. "Punish you?"

Sasuke nodded ever so slightly.

"Why would I?" Itachi smirked. "You got a glimpse of what could have been yours if you had just paid attention, had just attended one marriage meeting, had just—need I go on? Isn't that glimpse punishment enough?"

Sasuke gaped.

Itachi only turned, waving a hand back to beckon him. "Come, Sasuke. Once I sit through father's lecture about honor and abstinence, you're going to sit down and explain to them exactly how you knew about me and Hinata, then explain to mother why grandchildren will just have to wait."

Sasuke closed his jaw. A grimace quickly replaced his shocked features.

"You..."

The sentence was left to hang, as Itachi turned his head just enough so that he could see his eyes that were just daring him to finish that sentence.

"What?" Itachi asked.

Sasuke gulped.

"N—Nothing."