Forgive me for the grammatical errors!

Also, this chapter contains (implies?) corporal punishment. It wasn't supposed to, but it happened, so

The kitchen was considerably far away from Itachi's room, and Fugaku wasn't yelling at all, but the house was so awfully silent that Shisui could still hear almost everything. He cringed and swallowed every time he distinguished the unmistakable sound of a hand connecting hard against thin-fabric covered skin, shoulders shaking just slightly while he tried to concentrate on his own task. That happened just a few times, though. Most of what he heard were parts of the lecture.

"There are limits for selflessness, Itachi. And you've unabashedly—" Another slap. "—crossed them. Many times. And you've also been scolded—" Again. "Many times, for doing that. By this point it's just as if you were trying to prove you have an enormous lack of respect for authority."

"I'm sorry, father."

That was the only thing that would come out of Itachi's mouth. No grunts. No groans, no whines, no complaints at all. His voice didn't even tremble as he dutifully accepted his punishment, not bothering even once into trying to dissuade his father from continuing to administer it. It was unnerving. Almost like he was accepting it only because he thought it would help his father feel reassurance.

Fugaku also seemed to sense that.

"That's not what I need to hear," Fugaku said. "Stop saying what you think I want to hear, Itachi. You've told me you're sorry too many times. You've made me start to doubt whether I still should trust your words as unquestioningly as I've always done."

Shisui had to put the syringe down on the counter for a few seconds so he could take in a deep breath and try to stop the tremor that had extended to his hands. These were words that perhaps would mean nothing for a truly rebellious son, but this was Itachi. His heart ached just at imagining how badly they'd probably hurt him as soon as they left his father's mouth.

Another, much, much tinier «I'm sorry» followed, almost drowned in unspilled tears. Shisui felt like crying himself and had to bury his fingers in his thighs and bit hard on his lower lip to control himself. It was necessary. Itachi needed to hear that. Fugaku was not trying to hurt him, he was saying what he deemed it would take for Itachi to realize how unacceptable he'd behaved.

"You've never lied regarding official matters," Fugaku said. "I can't understand what could possibly drive you to lie when it's about yourself."

There was a small pause. While Fugaku waited for Itachi to answer, Shisui managed to regain control over his nervousness and started to draw up the antibiotic into the syringe with much steadier hands. He was going to cover Itachi in kisses as soon as they were alone. He was going to cuddle him into oblivion. He'd bribe Sasuke into bringing dango when he came back from training, and he'd feed it to Itachi until he passed out of sugar overdose.

"You—" Fugaku said, this time raising his voice to a booming level that made it feel almost like he was right in the kitchen, hand coming down in a slap much more resounding than the previous ones. "Are— just— as— important— as— any— mission!"

The sudden barrage of swats accompanying that sentence took Shisui so badly by surprise he almost dropped the syringe to the floor. He hadn't been delivering more than two every four or five sentences, so that definitely caught him off guard. His heart raced in his chest, and he wished little Sakura was there to remember him how to breathe.

He composed himself when he heard something that sounded like muffled sniffs, protective instinct finally kicking in. He had to force it down his throat, because there was no way he was going to interrupt such an important lecture when he didn't even have arguments to defend Itachi with, but it at least helped him to finish preparing the medicine with no further problems. Dissipated nervousness was a great relief.

"There's no doubt you're strong," Fugaku continued. "But you have to understand strength and intelligence can do nothing against a chronic illness."

Shisui decided for wrapping some ice inside a dishcloth as well. Itachi'd been so sore last time he'd even had trouble finding a position to sleep, so maybe that'd help to make him feel a little less uncomfortable. Then he gathered the ice, the cotton, the little bottle of alcohol and the syringe and leaned against the door frame of the kitchen, listening attentively at Fugaku's voice.

"It doesn't make you weak. It makes you human," Fugaku said. "Asking for help won't kill you. Admitting you're not feeling okay won't kill you. Complaining because you don't want a needle and absolutely hate people fussing over you won't kill you, though it won't save you from receiving your treatment either. Being secretive and lying, however, that could lead to a life-threatening situation."

A muffled sob. Very clearly not from Fugaku.

"No matter how hard you try to act like nothing will happen if you decide to ignore your condition," Fugaku said, voice much gentler. "It won't make the disease go away, Itachi. And it'll only interfere with your performance. Would you like that? To reach a point in which there's no going back and you'll have to be forced to renounce to your obligations? Because that's undoubtedly what's going to happen if this attitude doesn't stop."

Small pause.

"You can tell me," Fugaku almost whispered. "It won't do any harm if I arrive just a few minutes earlier from work, once a month, if you ask me to. So I can inject you before dinner. So you won't have to feel guilty over claiming my attention, though that's ridiculous. If it'll make you feel better, I'll do it. You're my son."

Shisui turned off the lights in the kitchen and headed off to Itachi's room, padding softly along the corridor.

"You scared me this morning, Itachi."

This time, it was a whisper. Shisui could only hear that because he was already standing in front of Itachi's door, but he didn't say anything just yet. He waited. Two, three, five minutes, and then decided for announcing he was there. There was some rustle as someone shifted on the bed, and it took two more minutes before Fugaku told him to come in.

Shisui's heart melted at the sight of Itachi, laying belly down on the bed, eyes glistening with tears while he desperately tried to put the strands of hair that were sticking to his face back to their place. There were still wet trails on his cheeks and he was doing his breathing exercises, very clearly trying to force down the sounds that threatened to escape his mouth. He was still avoiding his gaze.

Fugaku was sitting in front of him, in the chair. He nodded to Shisui to thank him silently when he gave him the things he carried with him.

As Fugaku soaked the cotton ball in alcohol, Shisui went straight to the bed to claim his place. He took Itachi gently by his shoulders and guided him to lay his head on his lap, burying his fingers into his hair and caressing his scalp with his fingertips. Itachi finally looked up directly at him for a few seconds, eyes so full of remorse he didn't even need to say anything for Shisui to understand.

"Itachi," Shisui whined, feeling like he would die of love. He didn't say anything either, he knew Itachi could tell that he wasn't angry at him at all only by looking into his eyes.

Then Itachi closed his eyes tightly when his father tugged at his waistband to expose his skin and buried his face against Shisui's thigh. He didn't hold back a small, very disgruntled sound as his father rubbed his skin with the cotton, Shisui took his hand and squeezed it in an attempt to comfort him.

"Prick," Fugaku informed, as he stuck the needle in. Itachi shuddered and managed to stay still for a few seconds, but jerked when his father pushed the needle deeper in. Fugaku scolded him and held him into place with his free hand, frowning. "Don't be difficult, Itachi. It's obviously going to hurt if you don't make any effort to unclench. I can't do anything about it."

Itachi raised his head just slightly and Shisui felt his warm tears as they fell. He didn't make any commentaries on it, because it was obvious Itachi was embarrassed, but used his sleeves to wipe them away. He wasn't surprised, Itachi'd never reacted too well to chiding. It made sense it would made him cry a little when he was already feeling so emotional.

A few whimpers left Itachi's lips as Fugaku pressed down the plunger, and he also made an impatient sound when he noticed his father was taking longer as usual.

"I'm trying to do it slow, so it won't hurt as much later," Fugaku said, tone still a little stern. "It's uncomfortable now but doing it fast would only make it worse. Will you stop struggling? You're going to break the needle."

When he finally finished and took the needle out, he gave Itachi a smack on the side he hadn't injected before pressing the cotton against the puncture and massaging perhaps a little roughly at first. Then he inhaled deeply and started doing gentler, after noticing that Itachi was stifling his whines against Shisui's uniform.

"If it was that awful then don't ever give me a reason again to give you a warm up before injecting you," Fugaku said. "Because I won't hesitate to do it again. That's what you get when you decide to behave like a kid."

He also massaged for longer than he'd do the last time, Shisui noticed. He even left his hand resting over the injection site when he finished, while he used his free hand to put the syringe away. After that, he stared for a long time at Shisui, eyes narrowed, like he was deeming whether he was worthy or something, and it made Shisui very, very nervous, because he didn't even know if he'd done something wrong. Maybe it was because he hadn't comforted Itachi yet? But Fugaku'd made it very clear the last time that he didn't want to see his lips practically anywhere near his son while he was present and—

"Shisui," Fugaku said, yanking him out of his thoughts.

"Yessir— uncle?" He asked, and Fugaku only stared at him for a few more seconds.

"Massaging the injection site—" Fugaku sighed, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was saying. "Gently from time to time is good for absorption and to reduce swelling."

Then he opened his eyes again, and the death glare he gave Shisui chilled him to the core.

"This is in no way a grant of permission to fondle my son whenever you please," Fugaku growled. "And if you don't think I'll find out if you dare to try and use this in your favor—"

"Father," Itachi complained, looking back at him with accusing eyes.

Fugaku sighed.

"Just do it for a few seconds every so often," Fugaku said, pulling Itachi's clothes back to their place. "It'll help with the pain, just as well as the ice. That was smart of you."

That seemed like a compliment. But the way his father-in-law said it, and the murderous look he was directing at him, made Shisui feel like he'd just killed someone. He managed to give back an awkward smile, though. He'd never said no to massaging Itachi's cute—

The murderous intent intensified, and Shisui stopped that thread of thought and gulped.

"Every so often," Shisui said, nodding. "No staring. No lingering longer than necessary. No complimenting. No enjoying it—"

"Understood," Itachi grumbled. Shisui smiled at him sheepishly.

"This situation is not repeating itself ever again," Fugaku said, threaten implicit in his voice. "Consider this your last warning, Itachi. I'll be taking more drastic measures if you even dare to try and—"

"I won't, I swear," Itachi said, sniffing and wincing as he sat up to look at his father directly, eyes serious. "I swear."

Fugaku's entire demeanor relaxed, softened by relief.

"Good," Fugaku said, taking everything Shisui'd brought in for the injection. "I need to leave for work. I'm already late, so I will have to stay longer than usual. Your mother should be back today but, if she doesn't, I'll be back before midnight anyway. You make me know if you start feeling worse. Understood?"

Itachi nodded, rubbing his face with both hands and giving a deep sigh. Fugaku stood up, and Shisui gave him a respectful nod when he looked at him significantly.

"I'll take care of him, uncle."

"Good," Fugaku said again.

"Father," Itachi called, just as Fugaku turned to leave. When he looked back, one eyebrow raised, Itachi just gave a nod too. "Thank you."

Fugaku didn't say anything, but there was the ghost of a smile on his lips as he left the room.

Cooing at Itachi was one of Shisui's favorite couple activities, simply because Itachi'd always scrunch his nose in utter disgust in that adorable way of his. Best thing was he'd never tried to stop him, whether because he knew Shisui wouldn't stop or because he internally liked it. Maybe not the cooing itself, but the constant praising.

"Look at your eyelashes," Shisui whispered against his cheek. "You'd die in the way I do if you could feel them brushing against your cheek whenever you blink."

"I do feel them brushing against my own cheeks, you kn—"

Shisui shushed him, frowning and closing his eyes.

"Not nearly as satisfying," He said, and felt the movement of Itachi's cheek as the corner of his mouth quirked up slightly. It made Shisui smile even wider. "You're still a little warm, love. Maybe you should take a shower?"

Itachi grumbled and readjusted Shisui's hand, which was holding the cloth covered ice against his hip. Then he buried deeper into his arms, forehead resting against his collarbone, making very clear how unwilling he was to renounce to his comfort. Shisui only sighed, and then Itachi took the improvised ice pack from his hand and placed it against his forehead, wetting Shisui's uniform in the process.

"Will you stop complaining now?" Itachi asked, raising both eyebrows at him. The presumptuous little bastard. Shisui rolled his eyes.

"Very smart, sweet pea," He said, and then he gave his sore butt cheek a small disapproving pat. "But now this is going to hurt. Is it really worth it? Taking a shower is much faster."

"Then you'll just have to rub it," Itachi shrugged, taking Shisui's hand when he tried to remove it and placing it back over the spot. "How unfortunate, don't you think?"

Shisui snorted when Itachi pressed his hand more firmly against the injection site, demandingly, when he didn't react at first. Then he complied, trying not to be rough, but Itachi's factions scrunched up in discomfort and pain at first anyway. It took a few seconds for him to relax, and to melt against Shisui like he was spaghetti.

"How inconvenient indeed," Shisui said. "I don't think I'm not enjoying it. Your father is going to murder me."

"Did you know father only gave me five slaps on that side?" Itachi said, unexpectedly, taking Shisui by surprise. When Shisui finally processed the words, he looked down at Itachi, blinking curiously. "They were the last ones, and probably the hardest too, but still that side didn't hurt nearly as much as the other one. Like he'd planned from the beginning on which side he was going to give me the medicine."

Shisui smiled fondly, almost adoringly. Of course Itachi'd been analyzing every small detail.

"Well, he's your father," Shisui said. "He does love you. Doesn't he?"

Itachi closed his eyes and let out a tormented sigh.

"I was a fool," Itachi said. "For having ever thought he somehow worried about me out of pity. That everyone did."

Shisui felt his eyes widen. But he schooled his face into a serious expression.

"Itachi," He chided. "You—"

"Yes, I know," Itachi mumbled, grumpily. "I know now. I— just— I wasn't thinking, okay?"

Shisui only sighed and pressed a kiss against Itachi's forehead, and Itachi relaxed again in his arms.

"Well," Shisui said. "I'll just have to tell your family to cover you in kisses more frequently."

Itachi choked.

If you have any ideas of anything you'd like to see if there were to be more chapters, I would gladly read them!