Shisui sat in the last meeting for the year. Although he was in the blue-walled room, a whiteboard projected with all kinds of graphs, his mind was not there. Regardless, he had trained his mind years ago to pick up specific terms.

"...year has been immensely profitable..."

His hair was so long, and somehow, always silky. Fistfuls of silk, it would frame his face like a curtain made from the blackest night.

"...beat our competitors in growth by a fifteen percent increase in sales..."

The black hair was a stark contrast to his milky skin. Like his hair, his skin was smooth– addictive...flawless. Shisui remembered the feel of that milky gold under his coarse hands. He was afraid of scratching it – that's just how smooth it was.

"...various expenditure costs lowered..."

It was always a routine, Shisui knew. A routine that appealed to him. He would devour Itachi – feel that milky skin, grab those precious black locks... and ram deep inside the long-haired man. Itachi was always so tight, his moans were tattooed on Shisui's mind. He could still hear them now – blissful. And those moans always drove Shisui faster. Admittedly he got rough sometimes yet Itachi still found that pleasurable, and that... that drove Shisui insane. Buried deep inside Itachi, his cock throbbing every time a moan was released from those sinful lips, as the older male grabbed Itachi's hair, yanking his head back to hear those moans clearer. The sex was just so good.

"...several new high profile clients..."

The talks after they were done fucking were also interesting. Shisui could tell Itachi enjoyed those too. It started with mundane questions – what one another thought of the rain, their favourite colours, their hobbies... Itachi revealed that he loved playing chess. Shisui could tell, Itachi was brilliant. It came as no surprise that the pale man loved exercising his mind. And it came to no surprise to Itachi, it seemed, that Shisui enjoyed spending hours at the gym. Itachi had told him so as his dainty finger traced Shisui's abs. When he did that, Shisui's body acted of its own accord and tensed, flexing the muscle as if Itachi had woken it up. And that was also part of the routine; Itachi would absentmindedly touch any part of Shisui's body and the older male would grow hard and fuck Itachi again. He would pin Itachi's pretty wrists above the silky haired man's head, look him in the eyes and keep up a quick pace of ramming inside of him. Keeping eye contact as Itachi mewled and whimpered at the absolute dominance. After, he would remember how pretty Itachi's wrists were. He would remember how Itachi enjoyed chess.

"...puts our predicted trajectory at an eleven percent increase next year..."

It was remembering the sheer intelligence of the beautiful, long-haired man that brought Shisui to the bookstore, purchasing the most expensive chess book he could find. Once obtained, he would leave it on Itachi's desk. Itachi would tell him, on one of their phone calls that Shisui didn't need to buy him presents. Shisui would always encourage Itachi to take it – he could tell Itachi liked the gifts. He remembered those pretty, dainty wrists as bare, and so he bought a leather bracelet, just a little less expensive. He would do so to try to appeal more to Itachi's taste. Itachi really liked the leather bracelet, he had told Shisui as much after their next... meeting. Shisui never told Itachi how expensive the gifts he bought were. If he had, he knew Itachi would've refused them, being too kind to accept anything costly despite Shisui's status. But knowing how much the bracelet cost as he traced Itachi's arms with his palm, the long-haired man's body naked but for Shisui's gift, turned larger man on immensely. He thought Itachi deserved expensive things.

Now there could be no 'next meeting'.

Now it had ended.

"And with that, I want to wish you all happy holidays. There will be a Christmas year-end party, should any of you feel like partaking in the occasion", the dull voice reported and then sat down.

Shisui inhaled sharply, "Excellent! Okay, thank you everyone for your hard work this year – let keep this momentum up! See you all next year", Shisui dismissed the meeting. Various blurry faces wished each other happy holidays – some wishing Shisui too.

The muscular man checked the time; his meeting had gone a little over schedule. He made his way to his office – which was far removed from everyone else. Dark chestnut wood framed every surface – he didn't like the glass walls his colleagues chose. Shisui enjoyed his privacy. His office had a dark colour scheme; besides the warm chestnut wood, his office was black and silver. His desk, however, was modern – being entirely made of sturdy glass. His intentions were never to make anyone who came into his office intimidated. His intention was simply to feel comfortable in the space. Yet, people always seemed to be intimidated by him.

Shisui came to the conclusion that he was just intimidating, something the warmth of his office couldn't change. That was just one of his character traits. Perhaps it was his muscular physique, perhaps it was his deep voice or perhaps it was simply being the CEO.

He had only come to his office to give himself some space. He stood in the space for five minutes before leaving. Having collected himself, he told his receptionist that he would be out for the next hour and to take strictly messages. Shisui had instructed her, warmly, to not make appointments unless Shisui accepted. Shisui needed that control – he needed control over a lot of things.

*****

Shisui stared in the mirror. The only mirror in the painfully minimalistic room. When he first came here a few years ago, its purple walls unsettled him. The navy blue carpeting seemed to taunt him. The black couch was intimidating. But now, he stood in front of the mirror, fixing his tie and flicking his hair in a new direction. The mirror was attached to the wall behind the couch, and Shisui found comfort in that as his back was then turned to the doctor. Throughout most of session he spoke to her while obsessing over his hair and tie – his back to her the entire time.

"How long have we been working with each other, Shisui?" the calm voice spoke from across the room.

"Three years and seven months", Shisui responded, still staring at his unruly hair that he kept that way.

"And in all that time, did I ever tell you that I can spot your tell from a solar system away?"

"Ha", Shisui laughed dryly. "What do you mean by 'tell'?"

"A nervous tick. Something that tells me how you're feeling."

Shisui exhaled deeply. "And what is my 'tell', doctor?"

"You fix your tie and obsess over your hair in that very mirror – you're frustrated."

Shisui ran a hand down his face. The last twenty minutes he'd been telling her about the success of his company, his diet – even his workout routine. But obviously she had seen through it. She was very good that way. He wouldn't see her if she wasn't good at what she did.

Shisui walked over to the black couch and sat down; the couch seemed to soak him up as he lied down.

"I just... I just haven't been sleeping well lately", Shisui spoke.

"Because of the nightmares? You haven't had those for a while..."

"No, no, that's not it. I-" Shisui sighed. "I was seeing someone."

"That's great! You didn't mention that in our previous sessions – was that why your mood had been so good, particularly last year?"

"I believe so. But the circumstances changed and I... He... We're not seeing each other anymore." Shisui spoke softly at this last part.

"Did he do something wrong?" she asked, now making notes.

"Not really", Shisui responded hesitantly.

"Tell me what happened." It was an order, albeit a soft one. This woman was the only person Shisui took orders from. This woman, and...

Shisui inhaled sharply. "He wasn't anything like the last ones. He was sweet. He kept up with me, intellectually and sexually. It was... Great. We were really good friends – at least I think we were."

"So, it was a friends with benefits kind of relationship?"

Shisui ran a hand through his hair. "That was what I established. That was all I wanted. I didn't want to go through what I had already been through all over again."

"You're referring to the emotional abuse? The gaslighting, the manipulation..."

"Itachi never did any of that. He was straightforward."

Shisui's mind wandered to Itachi. He hadn't spoken to Itachi in a year now, he had not even seen him. He couldn't bring himself to. Shisui was... afraid. And so, he had avoided the long-haired man.

"Then what was the problem?"

"He developed feelings for me. Romantic feelings and I- My heart raced. My palms got sweaty. I got... scared. So our arrangement had to come to an end."

"You called it off?"

Shisui chuckled dryly. "Actually, he called it off."

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you that that is the complete opposite of what your abusive exes would have done. They would've kept the toxic relationship going for as long as they could."

"I know that. Of course I know that..." Shisui whispered, looking away, furrowing his brows. He had his hands clasped on his knees, he leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his legs. The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, basking the room in an orange vision. A picturesque feel that matched the conversation's mood.

"When you first started being intimate with your exes, how did you feel?" she asked. "Think back."

"I felt butterflies. I felt nervous."

"And how did you feel when you started being intimate with Itachi?"

It automatically slipped from Shisui's mouth, "Safe." His eyes widened; it had to have been the lack of sleep that spoke. Shisui tugged at his tie.

"Did you feel the butterflies with Itachi?"

Shisui thought back to first meeting the long-haired man. His hair had been in a cute, messy braid. His face was beautiful. Unbeknown to Itachi, Shisui had seen his face as he walked past the cubicle landscape, seeing Itachi's well-shaped brows furrowed in concentration as he looked at the screen, his jawline sharp and pointed, his lips full. He wore an oversized hoodie that engulfed him. Even back then, Shisui wondered what lay beneath that oversized item of clothing. Both in terms of his body, and of his soul.

"No... I felt curious. But, I didn't feel nervous." Shisui looked up at his therapist again, having collected himself. She was sitting with her legs crossed, relaxed, never judging.

"While you were with Itachi, did you notice any similarities to your exes?"

"No, absolutely not. Itachi was... considerate – patient. He was nice to me, always polite."

The therapist closed her notebook, "Shisui, do you see what I'm getting at here?"

"Not really", Shisui said sternly.

"Have you considered the fact that those butterflies were anxiety?" Shisui furrowed his brows, but he didn't answer, indicating he desired for his therapist to continue her explanation. "In your previous relationships, you were constantly anxious. You needed to talk to me about something every week, asking for advice about what you should do about one partner blaming you for mishappenings in his life, how you could improve yourself so that another partner would stop going behind your back with other men. You asked me several times whether you should leave, a question I couldn't answer because it would go against my profession. You needed constant validation. You never mentioned Itachi. Do you see what I mean?"

"Because I didn't need to..." Shisui said carefully.

"Because you didn't need to", the therapist confirmed. "You didn't need that external validation. I noticed your mood elevated, which made me believe you'd met someone. But the butterflies were gone. I cannot recommend you to try to go back to Itachi as I don't know if that is what you want – what both of you want. But I want to make you aware that maybe, if you'll be in a relationship, you should be in a butterfly-free one."

A butterfly-free one... Shisui tasted the term and loved it.

"He was the one who made the nightmares go away last year, wasn't he?"

Shisui furrowed his brows.

"I don't want to require a man to be nightmare-free", he said.

"But you don't." Shisui looked up at his therapist at this bold statement. "They didn't come back, did they? The nightmares? Maybe, Itachi was the catalyst. But this past year has been you and your hard work."

"But what if he's the same?" Shisui suddenly raised his voice. "What if he does what the others did? What if he fucks someone else and shows me videos of how it should be done? Or if he forces me to go to the gym every day under threat of leaving me just to preserve my body?"

His therapist was quiet for a while, letting the curly-haired man deal with his emotions alone before joining in.

"Do you believe he would do anything like that?"

"I didn't believe some of the others would, either."

"You're avoiding the question."

Shisui sighed. "I don't think he would", he said. "But I can't be certain." Shisui knew it was a lie.

"It's up for you to decide whether it's worth the risk."

Shisui looked up, face set.

"There's going to be a Christmas function at the office", he said, changing the topic. "I wonder if he'll go..."

"Why not go and find out?" his therapist asked.

"I..." Shisui sighed and pulled a hand through his locks, wishing desperately that it was Itachi's hand. "I don't think he wants to see me right now."

"Has he said that to you?"

"No..."

"So what makes you think that?"

"He has made no effort in trying to contact me."

"Have you?" Shisui hated and appreciated when she did that. "Do you miss him?"

"So fucking much. More than I care to admit." Shisui didn't break eye contact. He was determined.

"Is he worth it? Is he worth the risk?"

"Of course he is." The words came out of Shisui's mouth before he had time to think, making him believe it was his soul that had spoken, not his mind. And his soul had spoken passionately.

"Then you should go", she said gently. "You should tell him.

*****

Shisui scrubbed himself viciously clean. The soap frothed aggressively on his chest, matching his nerves. He washed his hair just as viciously in his grey shower. His mind wandered to a particular memory.

"I'm sorry", Itachi had said softly.

"For what?" he had asked.

"For catching feelings when I wasn't supposed to." Itachi's eyes had been glued to the floor. It had tugged at Shisui's heart.

"Oh, Itachi", Shisui had said. "You're right. Of course you can't help it. I am the one who is sorry."

He had embraced Itachi then and planted a kiss on top of his head.

That was the last time he had Itachi in his arms, the last time he smelled Itachi's scent and felt the silky hair...

He got out of the shower and dried himself off, keeping a close eye on the time; the party would start soon. He wondered what colours Itachi would be wearing.

He wondered what hairstyle Itachi would choose.

He wondered whether Itachi would even show...

He tried to not put his hopes up too much, to think that he would try to have a merry time anyway. It didn't work. The thought that Itachi might not be there was unbearable to Shisui.

He opened his closet and settled on a neutral suit consisting of a regular grey blazer and pants but something told him to wear a red button up shirt with a black tie – it was a Christmas party after all. He shined his black shoes nervously and tightened his tie, pulled a nervous hand through his curls. He looked at himself in the mirror, his mop of dark hair, the way the fabric of his blazer seemed to strain across his chest and biceps. The way his pants even clung to his legs.

Does Itachi still have feelings for me? Shisui wondered.

There's only one way to find out, he thought to himself.

I will tell Itachi.