Disclaimer: The characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.

Title: Paranoid

Summary: Apparently paranoia and screwing with each other's mind ran in the family.

A/N: Something that struck me out of the blue. It gave me a laugh so I decided to put it down on paper. Happy New Year and enjoy!

-H.J.-

Part 1: The King of Conversations

It was a beautiful Saturday morning. Sasuke was lounging on the living room sofa with a makeshift blanket covering his legs. Itachi had just made his way downstairs, disappearing into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

The compound was quiet, as it usually was on Saturday mornings. Sasuke heard his brother fumbling with the coffee maker minutes before the aroma of roasted heavenliness wafted through the entire place.

He smirked to himself as he changed the channel. In the years that Sasuke had drank coffee, never once had it been necessary for him to work the coffee maker. All he had to do was wait an extra half hour and his brother would come down and work the magic for him.

A few minutes later, Itachi sauntered out of the kitchen with his richly brewed coffee. As he walked past the living room to reach the stairs, he suddenly stopped next to Sasuke.

"Did you touch my notebook?" he asked suddenly.

Sasuke glanced up from the TV, an eyebrow raised in question. It seemed their banter would start early today. "Why would I want to touch something that isn't mine?" he asked, onyx eyes meeting suspicious ones.

"I don't know," Itachi said casually, yet his eyes narrowed on the boy. "Maybe you decided it was time to put an end to my mysterious life."

Sasuke scoffed in turn. "That's ridiculous," he muttered, combing a hand through his hair. "You flaunt everything so much it's hard to label you anything other than ostentatious."

Itachi, with a large grey mug in hand, tapped his foot against the hardwood floor. Whether it was to intimidate or express impatience, Sasuke was unsure, but he noticed that the suspicion had grown exponentially in the man's eyes.

"But I'm pretty sure someone touched it," he insisted, before sighing. "Look, I don't want to make a big deal out of this either, but when I left it there last night, the corner of my notebook matched perfectly to the edge of the table."

Irritated, Sasuke glanced at the notebook and then at Itachi and back to the TV. "So?" he quipped.

"It's two centimeters out of its zone," the eldest Uchiha deadpanned, completely serious.

"Hn. If you're so paranoid about people touching your stuff, why did you leave it out in the open?" the boy asked although he didn't care much for a response.

"Please, Sasuke," Itachi said, swiveling around, "who would want to touch my things when they know that I'll give them a beating for it?"

The reply, however, made the teen sputter. "What?" he nearly shrieked at the retreating man's back. "Then why were you accusing me of touching it?"

Itachi shrugged, shoulders trembling slightly indicating he was laughing to himself. "I was itching for a conversation," he called back albeit lazily

Muttering to himself, Sasuke tailed after his brother, but branched off to the kitchen. He pulled out his black mug from the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet and filled it to the brim with coffee, before putting the pot back and taking a sip of it.

Automatically, as if it had burned him, his eyes widened and he spit the foreign substance out of his mouth and into the sink. It tasted like dirty dishwater and ass.

"Itachi!" he yelled. "What did you do to the coffee?!"

"Learn how to use the coffee maker!" was the amused retort from upstairs.

-H.J.-

Part 2: The Queen of Foreplay

Not long after his brother had gone up, he came back down to empty the remnants of his cold coffee. Sasuke was still in the same position on the sofa, but he had now picked up the task of fiddling with his phone.

It didn't take long for the hairs on his neck to rise to attention. Itachi was standing behind him this time, staring at him.

"This isn't another one of your attempts at conversing, is it?" he asked gruffly, not looking up from his device.

His question was tossed aside by Itachi. "Have you been in my room?" he asked, arms crossed and demanding an answer. "Because one of my drawers is open."

Rolling his eyes, Sasuke chose not to answer. Seconds of silence ticked by and the thought of making his brother impatient made him smile inwardly.

"Did you touch my dildos?"

The question cleanly wiped the smile away, and ever so slowly, he turned in his seat, fixing a "are you serious?" face on his brother. "What?" he asked, pronouncing the word in a condescending manner.

Itachi didn't seem to notice. Or if he had, he didn't care.

"The order of them seems to be in somewhat of a disarrayed state," he said, blank eyes staring at the incredulous look plastered on the boy's face. "I usually line them up from big to small, followed by lube and then condoms," he further elaborated, "but my largest one seems to be missing."

"I don't know," Sasuke grounded out, "but again, why would I take something that isn't mine?"

Itachi seemed to be thinking over the response in his head. "Hn," he conceded finally. "I suppose you're right."

He turned around and walked away, leaving Sasuke with his head shaking in his hands.

About an hour later, when Itachi pushed himself away from his desk and sauntered into the restroom, he noticed the large, sublime monstrosity sitting innocently at the edge of his bathtub.

"Oh," he murmured in discovery. "My bad."

-H.J.-

Part 3: The Prince of Haggling

This was it. Itachi had finally entered the restroom to take his afternoon shower. He tossed on his black hoodie, gray sweats, and quickly slipped on his shoes.

Slipping out the front door, Sasuke sprinted down the streets of Konoha. He had half an hour at most before Itachi swung open his bathroom door and went downstairs to make dinner.

Seven minutes down the road, he glance behind him before tossing his hood over his head and ducking into a dim alleyway on his left. Sure enough, a man in white robes was leaning against the brick wall waiting for him.

"So where is it?" he hissed, rushing the man who raised an eyebrow before gesturing to a brown paper bag in his possession. Sasuke nodded hurriedly. "I'm paying top dollar for them, so they better be as good as you claim."

"You look awfully… miffed," his dealer commented. "Why so paranoid?"

Looking around him, his voice lowered an octave. "It's Itachi," he whispered. "No matter where I hide them, he's been finding them. He holds them hostage and hands them out like hotcakes when his friends are over," he said with an edge of annoyance. "If he doesn't know I have them, then it's less likely he'll take them."

"I suppose," the other muttered, amused, before getting down to business. "Five each," he stated, and the Uchiha paused while pulling out his wallet.

"What?" he hissed. "That's twice as much as last time!"

"What can I say?" was the nonchalant response. "The prices went up."

"I could just go down two blocks; the guy there sells it at half of your asking price," he grunted, insinuating he'd go elsewhere for business.

"The blond with a horrible fashion sense?" the man with white eyes asked coolly. "He got busted on his last escapade. Besides, you know I am a man of quality."

Sasuke glanced at his watch anxiously, tapping his foot on the asphalt to resist the urge to pull out his hair. "Well, shit, damn," he muttered to himself. "You drive a hard bargain," he said.

The man smiled. "You know what?" he quipped. "Since you're my most loyal customer, I'll count you in for four and toss you an extra one without charge."

"Fine," Sasuke sighed, relenting grumpily with a nod. He slapped a twenty in the man's hand and was handed the brown paper bag.

"Enjoy."

The young teen snatched the bag and dashed home. He needed to find a place to hide them before Itachi was done with his shower.

But where? he asked himself as he entered the home he shared with his brother and closed it silently behind him. He looked around frantically, entering just in time to hear Itachi shut off the water.

In one of the cabinets? Under his bed? In his closet? The ravenette spent so much time debating and cursing himself for not thinking of a place sooner that he didn't hear the door open nor the quiet footsteps of his brother.

Thus, when he settled on planting his brown bag behind the canned foods in the kitchen cabinet, he had whirled around and crashed into his brother's chest. His brother's naked chest.

Eyes large, he slowly followed the droplets dribbling down his brother's torso up to his folded arms, and finally to Itachi's wet hair that had been brushed over his right shoulder. Sasuke let out a nervous chuckle and smiled weakly at his brother. "Itachi," he breathed, "hi." Quickly, or as quickly as he could, he shoved the bag behind him, but the damage had already been done.

The older Uchiha arched a perfect eyebrow, head shaking side to side at an unhurried pace that seemed to tease him. He clutched onto the bag tighter.

"Sasuke, what did I tell you about buying tomatoes on the black market?"

- Fin -