Warnings: uchihacest, which means gay incest

I do not own Sasuke nor Itachi because, well, if I did Naruto would be going an entirely different direction

Notes: this is first person narration which means that the narrator isn't telling everything. Look at the actions and the reactions because that's where half the story is

Please review and criticize, something's off in this and I don't know what -scratches head-

Supernova

The sky is a limitless expanse of blue, arching and blanketing the earth in velveteen darkness. The stars glisten like pearls and pulsate with the faint beating of our hearts. The moon stands alone in the sky, pushed from the background by its luminescence. The craters, the shadows, the asymmetrical face are grotesque and disturbing, but continue to capture our imaginations. Is there really a face in the moon? Is there a spirit that resides in that rubble of earth, long lost, that causes the tides and seasons to turn? No, science has proven it is not so, but regardless, the cold of the ground and the heat of the rising vapors distill all common knowledge to a thin film of hesitancy. And, as the night grows long and the dew thick, the film is stretched so thin one can see clearly through it and understanding dawns of what it means to believe.

"The stars are distant planets." He explained, his hands gesturing far above our heads and any limit we ever set for ourselves. I still fancy he stands taller than them, that he is bigger and beyond all that was ever created because he was not created. No, Itachi just was and always will be. He looked at me, noticing the far off look, the lame look of admiration. He knows it well and I think he hates me for it half the time. He pushed his pointer and middle finger against my forehead, "Foolish, Otouto."

I asked my teacher the next day what the stars were, and he said they were stars. Well, it turned out what I thought were stars and what stars really were, are two entirely different things. Stars are like our Sun, and those stars are suns of other universes. They are bigger or smaller or hotter or colder, but all in all every single one is a star. I think stars seem a lot like people. They all have their own things that revolve around them and they are all different. For me though, in my universe (or multi-verse as Iruka had put it) my Sun is Itachi. Yea, sure, he was wrong about what stars were, which I'm planning on calling him out on later, but he's always the most important thing in my life. He keeps me warm and helps me grow and lets me see; even if he does call me foolish all the time.

Itachi doesn't return from his training until late at night. Well, I guess eight o clock isn't late, but I am already in bed. He tries to be quiet when he walks into my room. He smells of the training grounds: of grass, of water, and of sweat. I can hear the faint rustle of his weapons, which he apparently didn't take the time to remove, and his soft footsteps over to my bed. He strokes my hair and pretends not to notice that I lean into his touch. He gingerly places a kiss on my forehead where his fingers have so often hit to turn me away, and then leaves my room to clean his self up. I instantly spring out of bed once my door is closed and race to his room to wait for him and tell him what I had learned.

He returns wrapped in a towel, his hair is dripping and at first all I think is that if mom saw that she'd kill him.

Normally he wears clothing when he returns. Only in the summer, which it isn't now, does he come back in a towel. Yet it was a cool autumn and I can see the goose bumps on his skin. So I ask why he's not wearing any clothes and, in the space it takes him to answer, blushing slightly at any stray thought I have while looking at him.

"Well someone commandeered my room before I could grab a change of clothes." He chides half heartedly, and swipes a pair of boxers from his drawer and slips them on. He comes over and sits beside me, toweling his hair dry: "So what is it you want to ask?"

I'm about to respond, but his nakedness bothers me: "Why aren't you wearing pants?" He leans in and ruffles my hair.

"Gosh, Sasuke, you're so easily flustered." He starts to get up, but I grab his arm. He obediently sits back down and looks at me, attentively. I feel my cheeks burn, what should I say? I swallow a bit, gathering the words I have, trying to think of some retort I've heard Shisui give or maybe that annoying kid called Naruto…

"I am not!" that part came out instantly, the rest is what I struggle over: "I actually like you better in boxers." It sounded girly and stupid, I realize, and sounded more like I was just saying it rather than actually meaning what I had said. So, to make my point clear, I glare right into my Aniki's face all brave-like and sit right on his lap. I try not to change my expression because, really, I'm not scared. Flustered maybe because, well, I don't know what flustered means. So I could be that. All I know is I'm uncomfortable with my slight happiness I'm getting from this new wardrobe and my sudden disappointment I felt when he was going to put on his pants. But it had to do with me not wanting to be seen as weak I decide. Of course, I can be lying.

He grunts and nuzzles his chin into my head, which makes me giggle. I get comfortable on his lap, finally realizing just how much bigger he is than me. I lean against his chest, liking the warmth that is against my back- only my thin night shirt in between. I forget, momentarily, what I was going to say, drowning in the warmth and the heat of his breath on my ear. But I remember and I say: "You were wrong, Aniki, the stars aren't planets. They're suns."

He nods; his nose is brushing the tender skin right behind my ear, making me twitch and wriggle. A hand secures my waist and pulls me closer. "Do you believe that they're suns, Sasuke?" he asks, his fingers beginning to rub my stomach softly, working their way under my shirt. I feel a flood of excitement, like when I'm waiting for my birthday cake or just got a really good grade. But it's all mixed with something else. I wriggle some more, trying to place the feeling and entirely forgetting his question. That's when I think I feel him shifting under me and, suddenly, I'm pushed off his lap.

He coughs into his hand and leans over, his elbows resting on his knees. His lap is closed from me now and I can't see it beyond the shadow cast by his body. "It's late Sasuke." And I know he's lying. He wants me to leave. He does this, we talk and I forget to answer and he gets mad and sends me away. He never looks mad, but that probably means he's dad's mad, or, as mom says: disappointed. I'm about to leave and Itachi is moving on his bed so his back is to me, when I turn around and finally answer: "I think stars are stars." It sounds stupid, so I add on- thinking maybe this will appease him- "But, Aniki, you're my Sun."

The next day I have no school, so I help my mom in the garden. The sun is really hot and I wonder if there is any universe that has our sun or something like our sun. I begin to water the flowers and wonder, since flowers need certain light to grow, do different flowers grow where there are different suns? I then begin to confuse myself and focus on the task at hand. My mom tells me to come on in for lunch and we both have cucumber sandwiches.

She's in the middle of cleaning the lunch dishes by herself, having insisted I don't help since I worked so hard. I get bored and begin thinking about stars again. Maybe stars aren't really stars, maybe someone made a mistake like Itachi did and just said they were suns one day and everyone believed them. I look at my mom; she would be old enough to know what's right. Also, she knows everything. "Mom," She murmurs the affirmative that she had heard and I continue: "What do you think the stars are?"

She pauses for a moment and then says: "I think they're the tears that angels cry."

"Tears of angels?" I echo, softly. It makes sense and suddenly I feel foolish for thinking anything else. Oh! Itachi was going to be so proud!

He comes back even later. I am waiting in his room already and notice, disappointedly, that he doesn't go into my room like usual. When he comes into his room he notices me, but pretends he does not or acts as if I were not there. He drops his towel and rummages through his drawers. My heart beat quickens and all thoughts become slurry of pants and the quick beating of my heart. He pulls on boxers and, as he's about to slide a shirt over his head, I hear myself whisper "Don't." He stops and places the shirt back in the drawer.

He turns to me. He looks so much bigger in the dark, his skin highlighted in the thin moonbeams streaming through the window. I see the scars like silvery veins across his skin, his muscles embossed on his marble flesh. I wonder how a body that looks so hard could feel so warm and gentle. How eyes that are so dark can seems so welcoming. He frowns and I instantly remember he hates when I admire him. "I'm sorry," I mutter and duck my head.

"What do you want Sasuke?" He asks, slightly exasperated. He doesn't move from his position against the wall. I look up and, momentarily, again, lose what I am going to say, but I recover it soon enough.

"The stars aren't just stars, Aniki." I say, shifting a bit. After a few agonizing moments, he finally gets off the wall and makes his way to the bed. He sets himself up in the corner and opens his arms, so I join him and nestle into his chest between his two legs. "You're still my Sun." I say, my lips moving against his upper arm, "But the stars aren't suns." I feel his breath come out slower than before after a bit of a catch and his muscles tense as I shift a little more: "They're the tears of angels."

I'm sleepy, I realize. He pulls me higher as he slides down a bit, so I'm reclining a bit more and fit perfectly into his body. His fingers stroke my side, his other arm blanketing me. He is not my sun, he is my everything. He is the sum and total of my existence. I'm about to tell him this, but he speaks softly, his voice far away: "There are a lot of stars. You can't see most of them here, Sasuke, but on my missions, far, far away, there are billions of stars. Sometimes, if you're far enough away, there are so many you can barely see the blue."

I nod, taking the information in slowly, groggily. His fingers are rubbing the tender skin of my lower abdomen and soft pulsations of electricity are sent to my groin. I can't think of why it feels this way because it feels good and I like feeling good. I try to focus on the stars and why there are so few above Konoha. His hand begins to dip deeper and when I think the sensation is at its peak and I'm almost asleep and, really, it is all too much, I ask him (because he must know because he is Itachi): "Then why are there so few stars above Konoha?"

I fall into sleep, though, before he can answer, his hand having stilled and retracted. I can feel in my semi-conscious state that he's picking me up and whispering in my ear: "Because we're shinobi, Sasuke. And, worst of all, we're Uchiha."

I never knew that stars could disappear. I never knew they could blow up or collapse upon themselves. Then I saw my star do it and, from the debris of his explosion, so many had died. He told me I was too weak (I was too distant) and I wasn't worth it (he couldn't reach me). It hurt so much to think I was so different. It hurt so much to think I was too far away. I was just a planet on the edge of his universe. I was a dull star that he had to stare at to pull from the background and, if he ever went too far away, I'd be blocked out by the multitude of other stars. I was a single tear shed by a cherubim and he was an arch-angel's greatest regret. I love him, but he's gone. I hate him, so he's still here. My sun, my star, and my everything. Supernova, it was all lost in a supernova.

And that night, that god-damned night, I didn't count one new star shining over Konoha, if anything, one was gone.