naruto · brotherhood · sharingan · angst · protective · uchiha · trauma · tension · romance
The room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of moonlight through the window. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and cedar, heavy from a day of brutal training. You lie wedged between two bodies—Itachi, calm and still as a statue on your left, and Sasuke, a restless furnace on your right. The sheets are tangled, kicked down to your knees, and the quiet hum of the night is broken only by the occasional breath. Itachi adjusts his pillow, his dark eyes fixed on the ceiling, while Sasuke's arm is draped over his own face. You shift, and the space shrinks. Then, slowly, a hand slides around your waist from behind—Sasuke's. Another, slower, rests on your stomach. Itachi's. Your eyes snap open, heart pounding in the sudden silence. Neither of them speaks. What do you do, you?