Ahh~ Much later than I would have liked, but here it is! Re-written and everythingg. Please enjoy as much as you can. :D My handle on a sad!Sasuke is very lacking at the moment, so it was difficult for me to portray him consistently in that manner.. I've grown so used to making him the egotistical, ungrateful, large-vocabulary-using asshole he usually is in my fics. haha

Warnings: Mentions of incest. Language, etc. :D

I disclaim.

oOo

The walk home was brutal.

It was difficult dealing with the fact that I had just told an idiot I was genuinely interested in, (in some way or the other), to fuck off.

I never wanted to know anything about anyone.

Maybe I wanted to talk to him.. Perhaps I wanted to more than I think I thought I did.

I got home faster than I wanted to.

I was never quite in the mood to face the cryptic design of that cursed, wooden door. Everything that lied behind its cheap exterior consisted of hell. And that hell consisted of my parents.

I knocked on its timbered surface, nevertheless, and my mother opened the goddamned thing before I had the chance to give it a second go.

She was smiling.

Not that it was anything new, but it was that kind of smile that annotated change. The I'm-about-to-go-on-a-fuck-spree-with-my-husband-on-the-other-side-of-the-globe-and-leave-you-in-this-empty-house-all-alone, kind of change.

I avoided her eyes (which looked so freakishly like my own), and stepped inside, tossing my shitty jacket on the nearby couch. I could already sense the thick, dispiriting miasma (of what was more commonly known as my father) pooling itself on the kitchen table, stalking my every move with those hellishly brown eyes of his.

I knew that every time he looked at me he remembered.

Remembered me on the ground, naked, next to Itachi. Remembered the way my dick wouldn't stop jutting from in between my legs so shamelessly. Remembered what a disgrace I was to our oh, so perfect family.

I was nothing but a shitty memory to him. The flea that wouldn't die, the termite that would consistently survive. The worm that had tainted his perfect, older son.

I knew he hated me.

My mom sat happily next to him, holding his hand on the table with a tenderness that made me want to puke my kidneys out. Her light-colored skin contrasted heavily against his own (which was the exact same color as Itachi's), and for one reason or the other, it made me angry. I always thought that my mother was too good for my father.

Too pretty. Too nice. Too.. human.

After a few good seconds of standing awkwardly before them like a dick out of water, Mikoto motioned for me to take a seat.

I sat down as ordered, stared at my fascinating lap, and waited.

I wouldn't dare look at my father. Though I tried to tell myself that I disliked him and wished him dead, I was so ashamed.

Ashamed because deep inside my impassive, dispassionate being, I knew that I cared of what he thought of me. That I wanted to make him feel proud of me. That I was his son, that I carried his family name, that I had a dick just like Itachi did.

I picked at my fingers, feeling like an idiot. That would never happen. What father would look at his son the same way after having taken cock up the ass? The cock of the other son, no less?

"We're leaving today," he said, his voice cold.

I nodded, playing with my fingers underneath the table like I always did.

I imagined I grew wings and crashed out the roof. After that, I would soar towards the river, and I would plummet right in. I would then gleefully begin the process of drowning. And when there was not a breath left, I would envision my mother's face; smiling. Finally relieved of her one and only burden, and I would die.. Happily.

"Sweetie..?"

I looked up, cursing the life that clung to me, "I'm sorry.. I-"

"When your mother speaks to you, you listen. There will be no next time. Do you hear me?"

I looked away and nodded. I was fourteen with not a nerve in my body to talk back to him. I'd rather get pissed on than having to be on the other end of Fugaku's fist.

I knew my mom was calming him down somehow, however. She might have been caressing his hand, patting his back, or maybe even holding him down with her arm. Even I knew that the mere sight of me infuriated my father.

He would have happily obliged to pound my face in if given the opportunity by my mother, and I couldn't fully blame him. I was the sole remaining remnant of disgrace and incest. And that's all I would ever be to him. An imperfect reminder.

My head hurt suddenly.

"Sasuke, dear, we don't feel right giving you such a short notice, but this is an emergency. I hope you could forgive your father and I," she paused, looking at Fugaku to somehow give me the fickle delusion that both of them had planned what she was saying together. "We're hoping not to be gone too long. You're a big boy now, and we're entrusting you with the house. Kushina will come by next week to clean and tend to the cats."

The fuck was 'Kushina'..?

I could hardly hear her behind the horrible cleaving going on through my head, so I decided not to even ask. Maybe it was just some new maid. The last one was fired (quite violently) after my mother had caught Fugaku admiring her dish-washing a little too much every night. It was hardly the lady's fault, in my opinion. My dad should have been the one to have taken my mother's claw-like nails to the face.

I took a breath and looked at her, "Yes, mother. I understand."

"That's good, dear."

With that, her and father stood up. I sat stiff as they went upstairs to their room, only to come back down minutes after with cases much bigger than what they would usually take to their trips. Meaning, quite obviously, that they'd be gone for well over a month. This relieved me in a way, but it also made me feel a little.. scared. Vulnerable.

I could regrettably admit then that I had grown terribly attached to my mother.

"Oh, Sasuke, don't give us that look, baby boy! We'll be back soon, alright?" she leaned down to kiss both my cheeks, and I felt myself redden. I hated whenever she did shit like that. "Be good, alright?"

While she went back and fourth throughout the house, my father stood by the door, his arms crossed heavily against him in their usual manner. I could literally feel the lava spilling from him, threatening to evanesce the very essence from me if I were to as much as stand from the kitchen chair.

Before they finally left, my mom handed me a cellphone; a smile on her face.

"Here, take it. We thought you'd need it to communicate with us if you needed anything. Or , maybe even talk to your friends! It's what teenagers are doing nowadays, isn't it? Texting and all of that?" she smiled sweetly, placing her lips against my forehead.

Hn.

I would be caught dead before I allowed myself to participate in said 'texting' activities.

I knew by the color and design of the thing, though, that it was Itachi's old phone.

The one he would take pictures with.. Pictures of us doing dirty, horrible things. I was inwardly relieved that my mom hadn't gone through it. If she had, I think she'd be in the hospital right then.

There was the sudden clamor of the klaxon outside, and my mom immediately hugged and kissed me goodbye as if on calculated cue. She made sure to assure me that everything would be alright one last time, that her and father would miss me. I scoffed within myself at the notion.

I was quite certain that my dad would much rather take it up his own ass before he even thought about missing me under any circumstances.

Fugaku didn't even turn to look at me when he stepped out the front door.

I felt like shit. I was shit.

There I was. Alone. Just like the cats in the garage were.

Just like I deserved.

It must've been several half-hours of just sitting there like a dumbass before I decided to go into my room and play some videogames. I was desperate to get my mind off things. Several things, actually. For one, that my mother wouldn't be around for a while, and two..

To forget what I had done earlier that day to the idiot at school.

It was funny, pitiful really, how such a brainless moron had popped into my head at a time like that.

I spent a considerable amount of time attempting to get into the game I was owning ass at, but I just couldn't. My mind freely went back and forth between the yellow-headed creep, and the way that I had blown him off in such a fucked up way.. (no pun intended). He looked a little sad when I had walked away.

His eyes, (which were shiny as fuck), had dimmed.

Surely, he wouldn't try to speak to me again. I knew it then, and for some reason that I couldn't quite conjure up as a credible enough excuse to make myself feel better, it hurt.

I put the controller down, and looked at the wall.

I stared at almost nothing, hoping in the very back of my mind that the river's waves would somehow reach my house in some sort of premeditated miracle and take me with it. So I could drown.

Something about the wall caused me to remember Itachi.

I began to tread what many would fear to tread, and the clear outline of my brother's handsome face began to take its place in the inner depths of my cognition. No matter what I tried, it seemed, he always surfaced someway or the other.

Though, who could blame the asshole? All he had to do was flip his hair, and people fell to their knees before him. As if he were some sort of chosen deity, or some such vaginal shit.

He must've been at least twenty now.

Taller than he was before, perhaps, and desired by anyone he happened to cross paths with. I questioned my existence and glared at the ceiling.

I then made the inexcusable mistake of having allowed myself to wonder what he might have been doing all of that past time, and that's when the insanity began.

I immediately got on my laptop, punching in his name in every search engine I could think of.

I got several results, but one stuck. It was a link to his University. I clicked on it almost desperately, my eyes frantic on the screen. There was a title at the top, 'Honored Students on an Oscillating Career Path'. Scrolling down almost feverishly, I finally came across an image of him, an indented caption at the bottom which lied nearly hidden:

Theoretical Psychology: Uchiha, Itachi

My eyes scoured his photograph, vigorously tracing the familiar outlines of his masculine, yet effeminate, complexion.

For some ridiculous reason that I strained myself not to dwell on, a tinge of excitement welled up within my chest.

He was truly so handsome.

I would look like the epitome of nihility if I were to stand beside him.

His hair had gotten much longer, and his eyes were the same eminent tint of scarlet. He seemed to have been presenting something to a large group of people with a highly intensive look on his face. He wore a skin-tight turtleneck, allowing me to inadvertently admire the outline of his fastidious figure. His mannerisms reflected through like laurels in the picture. With but a mere glimpse, his obsession with order and cleanliness was clear and distinguished.

I remembered back when I would see him bare every night, and I felt a searing tinge of what must have been.. pride.

Several minutes passed before I finally realized exactly what I was doing.

Absolutely disgusted and repulsed at myself, (not that I wasn't always, but still), I quickly closed all of the windows I'd disturbingly opened, nearly catapulting the laptop off my lap as if some sort of monster were crawling out of it.

Which, in a way, it was.

I tore at my hair, screwing my eyes shut in a pathetic attempt to try and shake away the thoughts.

Thoughts of him.

Of how much I was afraid to miss him.

oOo

I woke up to the dreaded noise of my alarm clock.

My eyes were heavy on me, and the headache from last night was rawer than ever.

My palm slapped itself on the annoying thing, an eye managing to peek through the thick veil of my unsettled sleep. It felt like every cavum on my face was being painfully stretched, but I managed to make out the bright, blinking numbers.

8:50.

Fuck.

I was incredibly fucking late to school.

Kicking out of the covers, I forced myself to function. I sprinted to my closet, sliding on some random white t-shirt and black, faded jeans. No time for a shower. Again.

I could hardly bring myself to look into the mirror. Must've looked utterly disgusting.

Not that I don't always. But one could only hope to look like their perfect brother.

I dashed out the door, hardly remembering to lock it.

All I remember from that trip to school was that I was cold and worried. My father would be enraged knowing I was late.

I stepped inside the Biology room, and every idiot in the room got quiet.

I awkwardly allowed the door to slam from behind me, halfheartedly making my way towards my seat in the back. Some bitch with pink hair kept staring at me, making me feel even more fab-fucking-tab-ulous. Kakashi was clearly pissed, and from the corner of my eye, I could see Naruto's yellow hair.

He was there. He was there watching me make a complete fool of myself.

Incredibly nervous, and blatantly humiliated, I took a seat and apologized. No effect.

"You're late, Uchiha", Kakashi snapped, watching me with those irksome, lazy eyes. "Why?"

It took me an entire minute to process the information. My face was burning, my lungs on fire. My fingers practically raped themselves on my lap.

"I woke up late.."

"I would like to see your parents after school tomorrow, Uchiha."

It was just one fucking time for crying out loud, "They're out of state."

"Any aunts? Uncles? Older siblings..?"

"I..."

"Why am I even asking? I'll contact the office today after school."

I tried not to look like a complete bitch, but the inflammation and perspiration on my face was a patent giveaway. Some kids were snickering, others staring. I closed my eyes, imagining water. Glacial water, the kind that would plunder the life out of you ever so slowl-

"You okay?"

I looked to my left, towards the whisper. It was none other than Naruto. It took me by surprise, and I nearly choked on the air in my lungs.

He looked so.. beautiful that day..

His eyes were so blue. His hair, so yellow. His ecru-tinted skin, fluorescent. Everything, all of him.. seemed to have been glowing.

"Y-yeah.. I'm fine." I cringed at the sound of my own voice, swallowing It away.

Why did that moronic, inglorious piece of a dim-witted idiot have such a stupid, fan-girlish effect on me? I did not know.

The rest of the day went painfully slow. Like, glass sliding up your ass slow. Would that fucker really call my parents over such a stupid little thing..? Or even.. Itachi. Would they tell him to come down there?

I was stressing myself out to the point of no return, entirely vulnerable to my surroundings; which might have been the reason why I ricocheted off my chair when the last bell finally rang. I very nearly sprinted out of the building if it weren't for catching a glimpse of Naruto just outside the school's entrance.

I stopped, attempting to look his way without looking like a gushing faggot. Which I probably did, anyway.

He was talking to some girl with purple hair and gray, creepy eyes. She played with her fingers as Naruto savagely flirted, looking like she were to give out and faint at any given moment.

The very familiar flare of jealousy made its way through my innards, and I almost glared. Something about the setting, however, suddenly caused Naruto to look my way.

"Hey! Sasuke!" he seemed to have very quickly bid goodbye to the blushing, crackbrained girl, but not before he scribbled something on a piece of paper, handing it to her. He began to walk towards me. "What's up? This morning must have sucked for you, huh? Kakashi's been in a bad mood all day!"

I stared dumbly at him, trying my best to imitate some sort of nod, but my neck wouldn't give out.

"Huh? Something on my face?" he quickly touched his cheeks, leaving me in a pink, slowly-erecting mess. "No wonder Hinata wouldn't say anything!"

"No.. I just.. I need to get home."

I couldn't possibly bear it anymore.

I began making my way down the steps, trying not to show the shamelessly exhilarated expression on my face, but the idiot persisted in his chase.

"Hey! Lemme walk you home! I'm gonna be here for a while, anyway!" I walked a little faster, looking the other way, almost breaking my neck in the process, "Sorry about yesterday! I guess I should've been a little more.. y'know, chill about talking to a stranger. Hehe."

He smiled a stupidly sexy smile, forcing me to twist my neck away at an impossible angle.

He blabbered on about how much he was sorry, only to move on to the different kinds of childish things he liked. I could hardly keep myself from tripping over seemingly nothing every five or so seconds.

This idiot had a serious effect on me, and it was seriously starting to scare the shit out of me.

So I did the only thing I was good at: being a complete ass.

I didn't want anyone near.

"I don't know why you insist on talking," I hissed, staring him dead in the eye, "I don't care."

Not even a moment later, he laughed.

Slapping my shoulder in the process, no less, as if I'd just finished telling some kind of fantastically hilarious joke.

"You're so good at these things, Sasuke! Being all funny and mean at the same exact time! Kinda like.. my mom! But better!" My arms crossed themselves against me, giving up. First he blabbers on about stupid, nonsensical shit that I couldn't give my last shit about, then he compares me to his.. mother? A new level of idiocy had officially been reached. "-then the frogs! The big, fat, orange one has always been my favorite!. Though I always thought that the blue one had a bit more of an edge, you know? Anyways, I'm getting a new bike next week- "

Several decades later, we reached my house.

"Here, text me! You're really cool!" before I could defend myself, or possibly die from the large amount of insects fluttering inside my stomach, he quickly scribbled some numbers on one of my limbs. "Maybe we could hang out sometime! My birthday's coming up!"

I didn't quite know why he found it necessary to shout every absurdity that came out of his mouth, but what I did know was that I couldn't stop staring at him in continuant disbelief.

He was so hellishly hot.

Before he left, he managed to catch me off-guard just enough to be able to actually hug me. I could feel his arms encircling me, and I stiffened. I wanted more, and before I knew it, I attempted to hold him in return. He pulled away right at that instant, however, making me feel foolish yet again.

"Don't forget to text me!"

He ran off, and I stood like a blushing queer at my front door just staring at him as he ran further and further away from me. I felt like I was losing something with every step he made.

I finally found the sense to step inside, realizing that he was not going to magically skip back and waltz into my room for a quick, sweaty fuck. The blinking answering machine on the kitchen counter was the first thing that caught my attention the moment I planted my feet back into the hatefulness of reality.

My brow rose.

No one ever called the house phone. That's what my parents cellphones were for. I pressed the button, and the first thing I heard was the reverberative ululation of my brother's porn-worthy voice.

My body stammered, and I held my breath. I died a little. I began to feel sick.

Sasuke, I had a call from your school today. You're coming late to class.. Father would be very disappointed. I hear they're both gone. I'll come down tomorrow . We will meet with your teacher.

My eyes widened, feeling as if the air, itself, had punched me right in the gizzard.

I found myself replaying the message a second time.

A third time.

Probably even a fourth. I felt a hardening somewhere on my body, and before I knew it, my hand was underneath my pants, rubbing furiously at the skin on my cock as if I'd never touched dick before in my life.

His voice.. The way it slithered through the machine and right into my ears..

I replayed the message vigorously like a dog in heat, listening mostly for my name. Minutes later, my hand lied soaked with cum, the spasm of my orgasm thawing me from the outside in. For a moment in time, I longed for dick in my ass. Then I wondered what it would have felt like if I'd put my own inside a certain somebody..

The feeling must have been astonishing, deeming from the expressions Itachi would make when he'd secretly fuck me.

My seed was a thick, sticky web between my fingers, and before I could truly try against it, I found myself sucking frantically on them; licking and relishing the taste of myself thoroughly. I did not intend for the whoreish mewling that resonated within my throat as I did so, but the thoughts of shoving myself into Naruto's ass while being fucked by Itachi at the same time were simply overwhelming.

I was sweating.

It took me a second to realize what exactly I'd just been doing. I nearly broke the answering machine when I smacked it hard on the ground out of sheer and utter frustration.

I felt so filthy. So dirty. Ashamed.

I ran to the bathroom to clean myself up, collapsing like a complete bitch with my back to the wall. The guilt overrode my mind. Guilt of everything.

Why was it that I still remained alive?

My pitiful cries filled the vicinity of the bathroom, tears splaying on my knees. Just then, the same phone from before began to ring.

oOo

Gawd, I'm so tired. Dx Barely managed through the end. Re-writing shit is SOOOoo much harder than just starting from scratch. Sigh~ Sorry if everything was a mess. Truly.

I wanna thank all of my wonderful readers. You are my reason for any and all of these stories. xD I'm a slow writer, I know, but bear with me. I write every sentence with utmost love and care. Seriously. Sometimes I spend ten to twenty minutes on one. Comments down below, my luhhs? :3 xx