#kkit

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and Itachi willed whoever it was to walk past the library, to leave him be. But the stars were not in his favour on that day, for the sound paused before it continued, muffled by the carpet that covered the library.

"One would think," a teasing voice sounded, and Itachi felt himself perk up, "that I would be able to locate Lord Uchiha at the ball thrown by the Uchiha Family. And yet, here you sit, far from the festivities. Where I had planned to hide, in fact."

Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Has my absence been noticed so quickly?"

Kakashi chuckled as he entered Itachi's field of vision. He cut a dashing figure as he always did, clothed in a navy blue waistcoat. As Itachi's eyes roved down his figure, a familiar warmth sparked to life within him. "You know it has, my lord. The noble Lord Uchiha, awarded a medal of valour for his daring deeds against Orochimaru? The devastatingly handsome heir to the Naka Dukedom, recently returned from the warfront? The debutantes are casting their eyes all about the ballroom to be the first to spot you. Oh, and your mother is looking for you as well."

Itachi sighed once more, and snapped his book shut. He should return to the ballroom. It was the height of rudeness for him to hide in the library at a party hosted by his own family, and yet…

"It just seems so trivial," he admitted quietly, casting his eyes out the window, watching the steady flow of carriages in and out of the Uchiha Manor grounds. "All the social niceties, pretending I have any interest at all in discussing the weather or the races. To watch them, you would never realise how close to ruination we came. We fought as hard as we did in order to preserve this way of life, and yet, I find myself wholly unable to enjoy it."

Kakashi nodded slowly. "I keep hearing Obito's voice," he admitted. "Nagging at me to ask the wallflowers to dance. I almost did. And then I thought of having my back to all those people."

Not much more needed to be said. Both men well knew the horrors of war. It was not a thing of glory as the poets painted it – it was a thing of fear, of wondering if the man you embraced in the morning would live to see another sunrise. Of praying you would still be able to eat, dress and wash without requiring assistance at the close of each day. Kakashi had been fortunate to have only lost an eye in the conflict. And Itachi? The stars had smiled upon him indeed, for all his scars were invisible ones.

"And so, you sought out this wallflower instead," Itachi said, attempting a moment of levity. That was how it had been between them. Kakashi, bereft at losing Obito, and Itachi, still aching from Shisui's death, had found comfort in each other's company. Taking turns to wallow in despondency, and taking turns to lift the other out of the morass of grief. Just being with each other had soothed the sting of the loss, and he had almost believed himself healed.

Thankfully, his remark worked, and Kakashi snorted. "Of course," he mused. "My Lord Uchiha is hiding because he is too shy to dance! The only way to rectify this would be with a dancing lesson."

Itachi felt his lips quirk upwards. Kakashi always had that effect on him. "If my Lord Hatake would be so kind," he murmured. His heart beat faster at the thought of having Kakashi in his arms once more. They had not touched since they had left the warfront.

Two men sharing a tent and even their bedrolls was not looked askance at when female companionship was lacking, but back in polite society? It was utterly unthinkable. It mattered little that his and Kakashi's touches had been entirely innocent ones – holding each other through nightmares, stroking each other's hair. Any hint of the intimacy they had shared would be enough to court scandal.

Kakashi's hand settled around Itachi's waist, scorching even through the layers of cloth that separated it from his skin. "My Lord, if the purpose of this lesson is to restore my confidence in dancing, should I not be the one to lead?" Itachi remarked, desperately attempting to reduce the tension that had manifested the instant they had touched.

"If it was a normal dancing lesson, then of course," Kakashi replied, eyes twinkling in that way which always lightened Itachi's heart. "But you are a wallflower, and so you must be coaxed. And of course, I am taller than you."

By a scant few centimetres, but it was not as if Itachi was keeping track.

They were entirely silent as they twirled around the room, with only the books to bear witness. And then Kakashi dipped Itachi low before lifting him back up, and both men paused. There was an electricity crackling between them that they were both unwilling to extinguish.

"In Icha Icha," Kakashi said finally, "this would be the moment when the two lovers would kiss."

Itachi could barely suppress his smile. Kakashi had carried that noxious orange book everywhere, even breaking it out during column formations to break the tension before they met the Oto forces in battle.

He lifted a hand to Kakashi's face, tracing its hard planes. Looking into the eye that, like Itachi's, had seen far too much.

"Are we lovers, then?" Itachi whispered.

"We could be."

They could be, if Itachi was willing to forsake his duty as the heir to the Naka Dukedom. They could be, if Kakashi was willing to cry off from his engagement with a wealthy heiress, one that had been arranged while Kakashi was still in the cradle. They could be, if they were willing to be condemned by the ton for their unnatural desires.

But could Itachi truly abdicate, casting all responsibility onto his younger brother's shoulders?

Kakashi must have read the conflict in his expression, for he tilted his head and smiled in that way which forced his eye closed. He had once confided to Itachi that he did it when his eye watered, to prevent a show of weakness. Even as he took a small step back, his hand tightened on Itachi's waist.

"We have always toed that fine line, but it appears that we will never cross it," Kakashi said. Anyone else would have thought he was utterly unruffled. But then, anyone else would not have soothed him through the nightmares he had experienced after Obito had taken a bullet meant for him; would not know that precise set of his shoulders which indicated he was a single step away from the complete annihilation of his dignity.

Itachi felt the breath leave his chest. Something told him that if he allowed Kakashi to walk away now, this would be the end of everything. Of late night conversations over a bottle of whiskey they weren't supposed to have, of verbal spars and practice sword fights which ended in one of them getting pinned beneath the other, sweaty and panting.

Of dances set to a funeral dirge which only they could hear.

"No," Itachi whispered. He swallowed, and forced himself to say it once more with greater emphasis, to ensure Kakashi heard his resolve. "No." He had lost Shisui, and had only survived the loss of the man he loved because Kakashi had been there to patch the hole Shisui had left behind.

If he lost Kakashi too, it would end him.

Seizing Kakashi's face in his hands, Itachi pressed his lips against Kakashi's.

The music crescendoed as their hands and lips explored each other, finally allowing themselves the release they had denied themselves for far too long.