Primary is Itachi/Kimimaro/Haku with references to three-quarters of the Monoshizukanohi world.Word Count:
THIS chapter: language, D/s relationships, references to abuse. OVERALL: fandom crossover, BDSM, impact play, nudity, language, gothic motif, side story, anal, oral, voyeurism, etc.Spoilers:
Upon their return from a cruise of the world, Haku suggests that Itachi and company throw a party...A/N
: This is a birthday gift for my friend, Kimya, who said she would love to see, "Haku playing the piano." The rest evolved from there.
I'd like to say that there are 22 people represented in this story from six fandoms. Because I like to make things easy
on myself. XD
Happy birthday, girl. Hope you enjoy. <3
In the West wing of the Uchiha family home, hand-tooled leather dress boots struck stone floors with hard hits of black heels. Cloudless, frozen night was outlined in the peaked windows of hallways and abandoned gathering rooms, dust collecting on priceless antiques covered by heavy sheets. Paintings of still lifes, religious ecstasy, and archaic torture lined the high walls. Tile transformed to wood and to carpets that were by turn plush and threadbare, and a tall, regal shadow drifted with aimless authority through patches of moonlight and swirling dusk.
Lord Uchiha Itachi roamed the halls of his manor, the hour of the gathering growing nigh. He checked his watch beneath his sleeve, his tuxedo traditional in color but unique in style. The jacket was without lapels but with mandarin collar. The crisp vest came high on his chest and was covered in ornate dark stitching, and his shiny black tie all but obscured the delicate folds of the coal dress shirt he wore beneath the vest and coat. It was old, the tux, and familiar, made for him along with a score of other suits by a tailor now deceased. He adjusted unassuming white gold cufflinks, smoothed a hand over his low, lengthy ponytail, the clasp a sturdy ring to match the links, and he walked, pacing for serenity and calm.
Safe in the silence and far away from the frenetic flurry of servants, Itachi gathered the kind of willpower most people needed to fight a one-man war. But it was not battlefields of blood and agony that Itachi would face tonight, however, but something that was, in his estimation, far worse:
A dinner party. A formal
dinner party thrown for a group of individuals whom Itachi had not laid eyes upon for, in some cases, years. He deliberately increased his stride, and he all but flew through a room that stored hundreds of vases that truly needed to be cleaned. He made a mental note to tell Merek, his head of household staff and driver, and paused to pick up a piece wrought during the Great Depression.
Tonight had not been Itachi's idea, but rather his adorably troublesome boy, Haku's. After the three of them had returned from their stint in Itachi's condo aboard the cruise ship, The World, Haku had suggested over hot chocolate served late one night by the fire in the family room that they host a welcome home party.
"With the Fetish Ball postponed until Break's Masters work out schedules, there will be few chances for formal affairs. And we've not seen our friends in some months, My Lord," Haku had said in his seemingly timid voice that was both genuinely soft and artificially demure.
"Though we're grateful for all that you showed us, Master," Kimimaro, Itachi's sweet and servile boy, interjected with a cat-green-eyed disapproving glance at his brother in submission.
"Of course, My Lord," Haku replied smoothly with a seated bow. "My life has never been so rich and full of wonder and opportunity as it is with you." A dusky, wide gaze had met Itachi's, a mischievous gleam hidden in the shining depths. "But, My Lord, wouldn't it be fun
Itachi reiterated his sigh of defeat and set down the glass sculpture. It'd been beyond his power to resist after that, especially when Kimimaro politely said Kimi had missed their poker circle. Itachi had allowed his boys to gang up on him, bemused as they argued for the next week over the guest list.
"My Lord, you must tell us whom you'd like to see," Haku had wheedled, small fingers clasping Itachi's wrist.
"Master, he doesn't mean to be demanding," Kimimaro started.
"Not entirely," Haku muttered, and Itachi laughed.
Kimimaro sighed. "We just want you to have all the say you wish in the planning."
"My brother, his husband, and the handful of names I've given you are all I require, sweet and lovely boys," Itachi answered, kissing Kimimaro and Haku, respectively. "I leave the rest in your capable hands."
Strategic meetings over lists, invitation layouts, decorations, and themes had continued for some time, and Itachi had suffered it in silence for the sake of the delight such things reaped for his boys, who were his breath and his blood. The happiness that existed in the wake of their combined fixation allowed Itachi peace while he recovered from long months abroad, caught up on household issues, and reviewed the distant matters involving his family's business. It was exhausting, and Itachi was too tired to do much more than fall into the bed he shared with his treasures each night, though he teased them both to breaking every morning as per their ritual. Seeing Kimi and Haku in states of unsatisfied arousal fed Itachi's very soul, and with lips, tongue, cock, toys, and hands, he took his boys to edges from which they were not allowed to fall until Itachi so deemed it.
One night after several days of grueling conference calls and an irritating chat with Sasuke, Itachi had walked into their rooms to find Kimi and Haku naked and kneeling. Both men were ringed, cuffed, collared, and plugged, matching pretty pink flushes on their cheeks and ends of their engorged dicks.
"Master, we have been remiss," Kimimaro had said, his eyes on the carpet.
"Nay, My Lord, inconceivably inattentive to your needs," Haku had added, and the honesty in his devious boy's voice had stopped Itachi in his tracks and softened the anger he had carried with him to the bedroom.
"How so, my loves?"
"You are showing us a great kindness by allowing us this party," Kimi answered. "Though we know large groups tire you, Master."
"And My Lord is already weakened by the time spent showing us places and things we could not have dreamed of seeing, especially not in the safety and freedom of your loving and immaculate affections," Haku said.
"You've been speaking with Merek, I see," Itachi said, but he walked to his boys, cupped both their cheeks and pressed them to his thighs.
"Your footman only spoke what we begged him to tell, My Lord," Haku whispered, clinging to Itachi.
"We're the ones in the wrong, Master," Kimimaro said, arms around Itachi's waist. "Please see no slight but those found in us."
Itachi hummed, stroked stubble-free jawlines and thick hair. "There is no fault in proceeding with plans I've condoned, boys."
"True, Master," Kimimaro said.
"And we'd never be so base as to question your authority by unmaking your generous gift," Haku added, and Itachi smiled at the tops of their heads.
"Mmhm," Itachi agreed, petting Haku's nape with massaging fingers.
"But we wish to give you something in which you can find joy, Master. Something to look forward to?"
"Sweet boy," Itachi said to Kimimaro, and he knelt between the pair of them, forcing two chins level. "Do tell me what you're thinking."
"We'd like to serve you in the duration of the gathering," Kimi said, forgetting himself and dropping Itachi's title. Itachi kissed him for it, suckled the pierced lower lip until Haku squirmed.
"We'd like to play," Haku said, a plea wrapped in the words, and Itachi answered it with a deep, consuming dance of their tongues.
Energy and interest revived, Itachi grasped two cocks that had not seen release in days. His boys could kiss and tease one another to their hearts' content, but orgasm would always be met with their Master. The thrum of power that beat in Itachi's core when both his strong, talented, beautiful men had shuddered, moaned, and rested against him with hands behind their backs, had annihilated all traces of anxiety for the gala or minor irksome occurrences that existed beyond the atmosphere they created among them. He continued until their breathing pitched with familiar desperation, and then he'd released them to twist fists in white blond and sooty brunet tresses. "Then explain the flow of the evening, enlighten me as to what you wish to give, and I will claim my stake on all I desire to take."
Thus the entertainment was outlined, and Itachi had spent many a sadistic hour preparing. With the large game on the horizon, smaller trysts resumed, and Itachi managed responsibility to self and property with renewed vigor. He covered his boys in marks, welts, and bruises, ordered ejaculation by alternating men every hour on the hour, and he thanked Merek when the servant mentioned it was good to hear cursing and command fill the household once again. Itachi made suggestions on attire, approved the final invitations -- matte maroon with silver script crowned by the Uchiha crest and sealed with wax stamped with all their initials entwined -- and banned the boys from entering the main seating room attached to the master suite. The bedroom, bathroom, closets, and den were allowed, but the boys had to make use of the hidden door off their 'Mistress Quarters' when they wished to leave the rooms. Entrance and exit via the carved curved doorways depicting sun, moon, tree of knowledge, and the hell of the fallen was not permitted until a certain time on a specific night and without precise understanding of what would lie in wait.
Itachi did glory in mysteries, and he reveled in the salivating eagerness they elicited in Kimi and Haku. Not knowing what was to happen had them whispering, daydreaming, and trying to pry information from their Master. Itachi didn't divulge, choosing instead to praise the speculation or to chastise it by silencing them with his cock when the guesswork became too elaborate.
Now the night was upon them, and Itachi had dressed early, leaving Kimimaro and Haku in their rooms to ready themselves. The evening would begin with their procession into the great library, where the guests would be ushered upon arrival. Appetizers and drinks would be served, small talk would happen, and then dinner would be announced and attended. Afterward, there would be a concert of sorts, and though the gala would conclude after the performance, it would herald the beginning of the main act Itachi had planned for his lovers.
It did, indeed, pay to have goals in mind.
Making his way through a series of rooms attached to a bedroom long fallen into disuse, Itachi set his course for the main hallway that ran past the master chambers and to the twin staircases leading to the lower level of the manor. As he approached the East wing, music filtered through a newly installed house-wide sound system and met his ears: Danse Macabre
. Itachi chuckled to himself, enjoying Haku's sense of humor and taste, and the good fortune he felt to the very center of his being for having his boys in his life quickened his step as he rounded the final corner.
Standing at the top of the stairs and deep in conversation were Kimimaro and Haku. Kimi laughed at something Haku said, and Itachi crept upon the pair, hoping to watch without notice for a few steps more. Itachi had never expected to find love in a thousand lifetimes. He thought his destiny was to mildew in the dark, damp places of the universe in penance for a favor he paid to a man he did not love, but who was worshipped by his younger brother. Itachi had lost himself, his connection to this world, its inhabitants, even the will of his own instincts, and buried himself beneath a hellhound's dervish of pain.
It took a relative stranger, a man known only to Itachi by proclivity and perversion displayed on the floors of the BDSM club Haze; a man slight of form but enormous in nightmare experience, to awaken Itachi from his own delusions. In a single chance night, Itachi remembered the sound of his heartbeat, heard his mind's cries for ceasefire, and he learned he was good at managing the malevolent needs of others. Experience with his own bleak nature taught him to see it, to know it, to be unafraid, and to tame it.
And in a crazier turn of events, it had been Inuzuka Kiba, the young man destined to be soulmates with the person who had saved Itachi from the brink, who had led Itachi to Break and thus to Kimimaro. Itachi had no idea Kimi had found refuge in the Hyuuga's pet kink club, but upon learning that fact, it'd been easy to broker a deal with Kiba to catch the attention of a sociopathic redhead and to watch Kimimaro perform.
Kimimaro was tied to Haku by bonds Itachi would never seek to sunder, and Itachi gave thanks every day to whatever might be listening that both men had chosen him with as much passion as Itachi had fallen for them.
When Itachi drew closer, Haku and Kimi stopped talking and grinned before bowing low from the waist. They kept their gazes downward and stood for Itachi's appraisal. Kimimaro's tux was a green so deep it appeared black to the indiscriminate eye, the lapels of the double-breasted jacket shimmering just enough to be alluring. He wore a white shirt secured with small emerald button covers, and at his throat, instead of a bowtie, he wore a fitted, brushed metal collar. A rose cut from the same green stone as the covers stood in the center, and the tones set off his eyes and made his loose, shoulder-length blond hair, currently without additional color, positively glow.
Haku's tastes ran toward the feminine and the extravagant, and Itachi was only too happy to feed such tendencies. The slight, slender man was encased in snug, shining fabric of a maroon deep enough to be almost brown. The jacket closed with a single onyx button at solar plexus, and beneath it he wore black silk with subtle ruffles. The slacks clung to his long, shapely legs, and he wore ankle boots with rhinestone-chain closures that added inches to his height. He didn't wear a tie, either, and the collar encircling the base of his throat was studded in diamonds. His hair was pulled partially up and decorated with ropes of more sparkling, clear gems, and gentle curls rolled down his back in perfumed waves.
"Ah, my boys," Itachi said when he could find his tongue. "You are divine gifts that make it difficult to wait for the unwrapping." The grins that met the compliment reminded Itachi that it was an honor to be alive. He extended both his arms to his boys with a respectful inclination of his chin. "May I have the privilege?"
"To such a kindness and for such a chance to please, we could never say no, My Lord," Haku said, cheerfully linking his arm through Itachi's.
"Always, Master," Kimimaro murmured, flush on his cheeks. At the last second, Itachi took Kimimaro's hand instead of having him link arms, and the pink turned into a ruby.
Stately, they stepped down the winding staircase into the reception hall. Most of Itachi's torture device collection was currently on display, as apparently Haku thought it important to show off the breadth of Itachi's idle fascination. Two men in black breeches, coats with tails, and smart bow ties flanked the front entrance, and more stood about with trays. The music escalated into Oh Fortuna
, and the smell from the catering that filled the kitchens reached Itachi's nose. With his men close at hand, it was easier to relax, and for the first time since the inception of this insane little idea, a flicker of pleasant anticipation ignited in Itachi's breast.
"Remember," Itachi said, pausing to enjoy that the servers never made eye contact and managed to deliver quick, clean bows that could only be accomplished through devotion to the art. "Eat and drink and speak as you like to whomever you choose. I only require your enjoyment of the festivities until I give the signal at dinner."
"Yes, My Lord," Haku and Kimimaro said in unison, but they gave one another a significant look that Itachi didn't miss. He chuckled, shaking his head, but the obvious question was stifled by a breathy cry of his title.
"Yes?" Itachi said, turning to Merek. His consummate, properly wicked Englishman who was plain of face and coloring but never dull of wit, all but trotted to the trio. He wore the servant garb to match the rest of the household, but Merek's jacket was a sooty gray instead of regular black.
"My Lord, you requested this, I believe?" Merek said, offering a black silken top hat and a cane crowned with a solid silver serpent head, diamond eyes gleaming with a recent polishing.
"Thank you," Itachi said simply, putting the hat on and taking the cane, tucking it under his arm without releasing either of his treasures.
"Not at all, My Lord," Merek replied.
"I expect the library is prepared for our guests' arrival?"
"Indubitably, My Lord. Food and drink and jovial greetings await you. And you must excuse me. The head of ceremonies sent this eve is rather green about the gills still sucking wind behind his ears. I must go make do." Merek dipped low from the waist, one arm across his chest, and Haku giggled, prettily, as always.
Merek cast a sly look at Haku. "And your Lordships look stunning, if I may be so bold to say."
"You may always
say, good sir," Haku said, extending a hand, which Merek took, kissed, and returned.
"Good luck," Kimimaro wished, and Merek smiled before pivoting and scurrying away to deal with the employees.
"Such a sweet man. I wonder if he needs assistance?" Haku teasingly commented as they resumed their procession to the library.
"Master would be splendid at offering pointers to keep difficult people in line, no doubt," Kimimaro deadpanned.
"But not nearly as good as our sweet Haku would be, wielding a crop and driving the steeds into a pen," Itachi rejoined.
"A run with the bulls," Haku mused, his smile brighter than stars. "How appealing."
"Mm," Itachi hummed. "This must be where the requisite pun about 'giving them the horns' comes into play."
"There are three of us to offer in the gouging, Master," Kimimaro pointed out, helpfully.
Haku burst into a gale of giggles, and the mirth preceded their entrance into the main library. The walls were lined with tall stacks of shelves, and a second tier wrapped high around the lofted room, accessible by twin metal spiral staircases. Longer than it was wide, the library had two stone fireplaces, the gas logs alight and casting warmth. Servants in frocks stood among the stately furniture that was covered in dark leather and golden rivets. Flameless candles glowed in lieu of electric lighting. Low tables, strategic Tiffany lamps, and heavy fur rugs made the space comforting instead of imposing. At the far end of the room, a two-story stained-glass window rose from the floor in a rainbow of color. The image was another from the Garden, the fall of mankind and the rise of knowledge, and it matched the one carved on the doors leading into Itachi's bedchambers.
A bar occupied the left wall, a new addition for the party and the guests, and it was staffed with a slight, thin man with brown hair and dimples that flashed with the hesitant smile. "Oh my," Haku murmured, squeezing Itachi's arm. "Forgive me, My Lord, but I feel the need to quench my thirst."
"Try not to eat the boy alive," Kimimaro murmured, disapproval tinting the tone.
"Now, now," Itachi chastised, gently and in jest. "I'd not discourage Haku from giving the child an entertaining evening."
Haku spun with grace, and bent to bow over Itachi's hand, kissing a silver ring on Itachi's finger, the penitent to the divine. Haku's grin and toss of hair were as evil as they were alluring, and Itachi watched in humble fascination as his beautiful boy approached the manservant at the open bar. Itachi dearly loved Haku enjoying a good time wiled away in the mild torture of the unsuspecting.
"Itachi," Kimimaro whispered, leaning closer and smelling of the aftershave that reminded Itachi of Rome. They'd found the scent in a tiny shop in a cobblestone alcove, and had bargained with a keeper who knew not a word of the English, French, Japanese, or Russian that were in Itachi and his beloveds' experience.
"Yes, sweet boy?" Itachi asked his more conservative lover, setting aside his cane to lean against a shelf and tucking a stand of hair behind Kimi's ear.
"Might I ask to stay by your side until dinner?" Kimimaro's glance into Itachi's eyes was a quick dart, calculated but not in ill intent, only consideration. "Haku will do the rounds, I'm sure, and I'd rather... be close to Master, if I can impose?"
Itachi cupped Kimimaro's face with both hands, and the slight gasp left Itachi no choice but to loom over Kimi's lips. "Do you ask for yourself and your needs or to please me, my love?"
"Both," Kimimaro answered, hesitation annihilated by Itachi's nearness. Gentle green stared at Itachi with longing and anxiety. "I don't want to leave you alone."
"Then it will be as you desire," Itachi said, tasting Kimimaro but keeping it brief. He knew the long night ahead of his lover, had no intention of making it more challenging than it would be without early aid, but gods above and below, Kimimaro's affections would keep Itachi warm through the bleakest of winters.
"Thank you, Master," Kimimaro said with a sigh and slight smile. Itachi tucked Kimimaro's arm through the loop made by his own, and a hired steward stepped into the room with a sharp rap of heel and fierce straightening of spinal column.
"Neji Hyuuga and Shikamaru Nara." The steward took a quarter turn, rammed a forearm across his midsection, and bowed with a sweep of hand. Itachi hummed in approval, making note to thank Merek appropriately for finding such a delightful serving staff, and he chuckled when Kimimaro went stiff at his side.
Neji was always a delight for the senses. He chose clothing as an extension of self and, Itachi suspected, an unconscious display of his greatest weaknesses -- that which pleased by touch alone. Neji's tuxedo was pitch black with a dull sheen to the nap. The jacket was double-breasted, the lapels wide and patterned with black lace. The shirt, vest, and tie were the palest lavender, silken, and the buttons and cufflinks were clasped with a milky stone. Neji's hair was drawn back from his face by two combs, diamonds and more of the cloudy gems, and the combination of colors brought out ivory complexion and the amethyst tones of Neji's eyes. The only other accessory was the locket that hung by a finely-wrought necklace to his breastbone.
On Neji's arm was Shikamaru, resplendent in the colors of the earth. Deep brown tux, forest green shirt, golden cufflinks and buttons. His hair was in loose waves to his shoulders, thin pieces held back by nearly invisible pins. Instead of a tie, he wore a fascinating piece of jewelry that seemed to be a chainmail necktie. Shikamaru's hands were in his pockets, smirk playing across his lips, and he matched Neji's stride as they crossed the room. Itachi admired the confidence in the pair of brilliant men, happy for the obvious connection they had and for the grace they exuded.
"Itachi," Neji said, reaching to clasp not Itachi's hand, but beyond it to Itachi's wrist; an old-world indicator of trust and affection, one citizen to another. "You have a beautiful home."~*~Reference List Amassing HERE