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Script Modeling ::Itachi::	By : Elenoria_Wyvern Category: Naruto AU/AR > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1023 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any Naruto Characters, nor the actual show. I make no money off of this fanfiction. I only own Makato Tsukino and his father.

Chapter List
- 1-Script Modeling ::Itachi::
- 1
Note: About ‘Script’ Modeling-
Models are given a script, a scene to act out through poses that don’t look like poses for magazines. Some of them can get quite… mature. Due to the nature of the act, it’s rare that a model completes a whole shoot alone.
Itachi was not one of the most social models, Makato Tsukino knew. They’d worked together before. At first it had been completely silent, but by now, Itachi actually bothered to say hello. Sometimes he asked about Makato’s day, and sometimes he told him about his. But his voice was always very quiet, and he never said anything when others might over-hear. What he said was meant for Maka’s ears only.
“Maka!” His director, Pein, greeted, “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“And for agreeing to wear a skirt without charging us extra,” Konan, wardrobe director added.
He shrugged, “I grew up in a cross-dresser friendly environment.”
“Come on, Itachi is on his way.”
“Itachi? Oh, yeah, I’m filling in for Pinky. What did she do, break nail?”
“Sakura has food poisoning.”
“She eats?”
Contrary to popular belief, Maka and Sakura were actually good friends. In fact, Maka had been in the restaurant with her when she’d eaten the bad sushi. Lucky for him, he’d chosen the steak. The bad talk was partly for image, and partly joking. Sakura was with Sasuke Uchila, but for some reason, Itachi and Sakura were the most popular media couple right now. It was only because Maka knew how happy Sakura was with Sasuke, and how platonic her feelings for her soon-to-be brother-in-law were, that he could joke about/with her without any real malice.
This time, though, the jokes were to calm his nerves. He and Itachi had worked together before- but not in a romantic scene. They’d been boxers and fencers and rivals. They’d been a vampire and werewolf tearing each other apart. But never anything romantic, despite what the media was calling ‘Yaoi Fangirl Fever’.
“Yes, quite a lot actually.” The woman answered his joking question before pushing him roughly into the changing room.
“Wah!” he cried out as he stumbled, stopping a millimeter before bumping into the make-up artist, Sasori. “Sorry, Konan’s fault.”
“Get dressed.” He ordered.
Impatient old codger, Maka thought. But he truly didn’t mind Sasori.
He pushed Konan away when she tried to help him into the clothes. “I can do it myself, woman! I don’t need you molesting me again!”
“That was an accident!”
“Suuuure, whatever you say.”
She cried out in outrage, but Maka had moved onto assessing the clothes. He had been okay with the skirt, and the make-up, but black lace panties? He so should have charged extra. So he slipped them on, squeezed himself into the plaid mini-skirt (damn did they give him Sakura’s size or what?), and pulled the black tank-top over his head. He finished by clipping on the black, spiky collar. He studied the mirror. Not bad. Thanks to his –rather girlish –small frame, he looked good, but he was still obviously a man in a skirt. A skirt that only came to mid thigh. The long, wavy black hair helped too. And the mandatory waxing The Random Something included in all it’s modeling contracts.
That god damned waxing…
He stifled an angry growl as he stepped out from behind the screen. “Well, am I hot or what?”
“Oh, Jesus, Maka, why didn’t you tell us you looked this good in a skirt? We would have done this so much sooner if we’d known.”
“I didn’t know. My father was the cross dresser, not me.”
“Sit down.”
“Alright, alright already.”
Sasori gunked up his lashes and smeared dark make-up on his eyes and lips after applying white foundation to his already pale skin. Konan –the unofficial hair consultant-told Sasori just to put moose in his hair and ruffle it up. The shoot hadn’t even started and he looked deliciously debauched.
Konan sat him backstage and gave him a magazine too read. “Itachi just got here, so we’ll dress him and be right out.”
“Sure, okay.” He was busy trying to figure out how to sit in this short of a skirt without flashing his panties. (He was very, very glad to say his father had never worn anything above the knee.)
“Oh, you’re so cute, cross your leg like this over your knee.”
“But then people can almost see my ass.”
“That’s the point, hun.”
She hurried off and he picked up the magazine, finding a recipe for dango before a slight choking noise caused him too look up. Itachi was standing beside Konan with his crimson eyes (he must have contacts in) slightly widened in surprise. He was wearing tight black leather pants and a dark burgundy button-down shirt mostly on the buttoned down side. His shoulder-length black hair was tied up in a ponytail save for his bangs which fell into those surprised eyes and gave them a mysterious look. Konan was forcing back a giggle that would get her killed should it escape.
He smiled in greeting and waved. “Hello, Itachi. Sorry, but I guess I’ll be you’re date to the club this evening.”
---
Itachi had been aware that Maka would be filling in for his partner. She was, after all, his sister-in-law. Or soon to be, in any case. But he had not expected them to force the younger man into a skirt. And damn those legs for being so long and perfect…was he wearing heels? Yes, black ones.
“Hn.” He grunted. Had Konan not been there, it would have been something like ‘it’s easier than having to pretend to enjoy kissing a girl’.
Itachi was very openly gay. That was the one reason Sasuke hadn’t castrated him with a rusty spoon yet.
Konan gave them their space as they had five minutes to go over the script again and she had to make sure Zetsu didn’t eat the delivery boy. (The resident flower expert/plant man may only eat dead people, but if he had skipped breakfast, he was known to make his own food).
“You look nice.” He told him now that they were alone.
“Thank you.” Itachi wondered if Maka knew what a pretty shade of pink he turned whenever he was complimented. “You do, too.”
“I didn’t know you did cross-dressing.”
“First time, but… well if you ever meet my father, you’ll understand.”
“Hn…” he tilted his head, “you almost look like a girl.”
“Really? I didn’t think I was that convincing.” He shrugged bare shoulders and stood. He wobbled a bit on the high heels giving Itachi a grateful smile when he caught him. “Thanks. Man, being a girl is hard. I hate these things.”
“Hn.” He reveled in the feel of that slim, strong body against his own. He was getting excited before they even got on camera.
He had been lusting after that lithe body for years now, though, so who could blame him?
Maka didn’t object when Itachi picked him up and carried him to the set. Rather, he just wrapped his arms around his neck and chattered on about how he was going to kill Sakura for eating the sushi at a steakhouse, because this was a hassle, and he didn’t even know how to sit in a skirt like this.
He ignored Konan’s gleeful look as he set Maka down. The set was the living room and bedroom of a small apartment. Itachi’s scripts were never wordy, even for script modeling. He had some lines, but most of the story was provided by his partner’s dialogue. Pein and the other script writers all encouraged the dangerous, silent image. But most of the lines he had, at least in this particular shoot, were things he’d only imagined speaking to Maka while he jerked off alone in his bed.
They only had lines because Pein’s financial advisor made him take advantage of the chance at extra money and record video as well as putting together the photo-books. Right now he both blessed and cursed the geezer known as Kakuzu.
“You two ready?”
“Hai!” Maka called.
“Hn.”
“Action!”
Instantly, Maka fell perfectly into his role, the wobble of the heels aiding in making him look a little tipsy as he opened the door onto the set (into the apartment) and took Itachi’s hand leading him inside eagerly. As he crossed the threshold and came into the view of the camera, there was a small flash. Pein’s camera was already at work.
Maka hurried to kick off the cursed heels and then leaned up to nip at the skin at the hollow of the elder man’s throat. “Glad that club’s just down the street.”
Wordlessly, he hooked two fingers around that collar –he liked the collar more than was probably right –and dragged Maka’s lips to his own. The shorter male gasped quietly into his mouth, and god, if that didn’t make his leather pants a little uncomfortable, then the soft plumpness of his lips did it. He clutched at skirt-covered hips.
“Ma-ah!” He pulled back and let his head fall backwards.
Itachi took the invitation, pausing with a dangerous look set in his eyes and false fangs set on a pale throat so that Pein could get in close and take a picture of that moment. He pressed down a little harder and gel-like paint (non-toxic) left the cavity inside the specially made fangs, leaving behind the two puncture wounds when he pulled away from the neck of a gasping, moaning, squirming Makato.
“You look so nice, like that, all flushed and needy.” Itachi growled loud enough for the sound equipment to catch it, and of course, actually meaning it.
“I look better when I don’t feel so empty.” He pouted, whining and tugging at the collar of his shirt , “Come on, you took something, so give something back.”
He chuckled darkly. Maka really was flushed. Rather than trying to distract from the fact that the expected model had been replaced by a man, he emphasized it by reaching under the skirt, and cupping the half-erection he found there. Maka was enjoying this too!
“You’re so hard for me, already.” He add-lib-fibbed.
“Nyaaa!” he mewled, “Don’t tease!”
The Uchila was utterly shocked when a small-but-strong hand grasped his own (considerably more pronounced) arousal. With a growl, he scooped the man up again, carried him into the bedroom, and dropped him onto the crisp, cool, white cotton sheets. He undid the few buttons on his shirt that were buttoned and tossed it aside before climbing atop Maka and kissing him silly, forcing his tongue inside a hot cavern, and delighting as a smaller, softer tongue batted submissively against his own.
“Mine!” he hissed when he pulled away.
“CUT!”
Itachi snapped back to reality at Pein’s shout. Looking down at Maka’s face, he wasn’t any happier about having to stop than the Uchila was. He climbed off of Maka, who quickly straightened his skirt, in a vain attempt at hiding his hard-on.
The raven-haired man helped Maka up, then took the bag he just realized Konan was holding out to him. Inside were his clothes. He grabbed the contacts case and hurriedly removed the damn things.
“The changing rooms are all busy for a group shoot we’ve got in ten minutes, so you can keep the clothes. Call it a bonus for being so cooperative. Besides,” the blue-haired woman giggled, “Maka needs to wear skirts more often.”
He slid his glasses on and looked at Maka, who’s face was bright red. “Do I look that good?”
“Yes.”
Maka looked at him sharply, shocked that he’d said something –particularly something like that – around other people, but then smiled sheepishly. “Well I’m glad you think so.”
He let the blond say goodbye to everyone, and then shocked everyone by pulling Maka outside the studio barefoot (he was not putting those heels on again).
“I-Itachi?”
He pressed him against the side of his Lincoln and captured his already kiss-swollen mouth, delighting in the moan it wrenched from him. He pulled back. “Get in the car.”
Without so much as an excuse-me-mister, he opened the door and climbed inside hastily.
---
Maka might have been concerned for Itachi’s driving record, had he been paying attention. Instead of watch the speedometer, he nipped and sucked at the skin beneath the driver’s ear and giggled when he growled. He did have the common sense to wait until they were stopped at a light before he slid a hand to cup the bulge in his soon-to-be lover’s leather pants. The car lurched forward a foot before Itachi managed to apply the breaks again.
Itachi dragged Maka out of the driver’s side door –too impatient to open up his –and suddenly the blond found himself in strong, muscular arms again. He raised an eyebrow when Itachi stopped outside the right apartment door.
“How did you know where I lived?”
He watched the pale face turn tomato red. “I… followed you home after the Christmas party last year. I didn’t know how far it was from Sasuke’s place to yours, and you were a little drunk.”
“It was only a floor down.” He giggled, but leaned up and nibbled his ear lobe. “Thank you for worrying.”
“Hn.”
“Spare key’s in the plant.”
After retrieving the key (without dropping him) Itachi unlocked the door, tossed the key to the side, and walked to the bedroom with quick, determined strides.
The tank-top flew someplace on his way down to the bed, and Maka wasn’t sure which one of them removed it. He went to remove the collar as Itachi’s strong hands worked at the skirt, but blinked when one of those hands stopped him.
“Keep it on.”
He blinked again then chuckled as he was divested of his skirt, getting up on his knees and kissing Itachi. He ran his hands beneath the crimson shirt while Itachi removed his glasses. “Mmmhn, yes master.”
A fierce growl came from the brunette’s throat, and suddenly he was on his hands and knees with his head spinning and Itachi’s hands on his ass, parting the cheeks and… and his tongue. “Oh, oh, I-Itachi!”
“Do you have any lube?”
He blinked at the question and the lack of stimulation, then focused his mind into reaching beneath his pillow (he was a healthy young man, after all, he had needs) and handing his lover the small bottle he found there. A moment later, slick fingers prodded at his already slightly slick enterance and then slid inside. He jerked, and sobbed a little, frowning when this made Itachi freeze.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, no, it felt good.”And it had, because even if Maka did not sleep with random men, he did practice this often. “Mmhn, you’re fingers are so much longer than mine.”
So Itachi added a third, and nudged his prostate, distracting him from the slight sting of the stretch. “Are you ready?”
The dark pleasure in his voice made Maka shudder, and he nodded, “Please.”
Again two fingers hooked in the strip of studded leather about his neck, this time at the back, and pulled. Not hard enough to cut off his breathing, but firmly enough that he got the idea. Rising up on his knees, spreading his legs a little wider, he allowed Itachi to move between them until he was pretty much sitting on his lap with his back to the man’s chest. And then something larger began to enter him and he squeezed his eyes shut and screamed.

---
A month later, Sasuke and Sakura had no idea they were together. Maka wanted to see how long it would take them to figure it out. It took them a while but they caught on pretty fast when they walked in on Itachi kissing Maka good morning.
They stood in the kitchen doorway with their mouths hanging open for an instant, and Itachi had the time to mutter an ‘uh-oh’ before Sasuke let out a cry of outrage and flew at him.
“BAKA! WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT ONE-NIGHT STANDS WITH MY FRIENDS?”
“Sasu-“he had to dodge a punch, “It’s no-“
Makato smiled, watching the brothers wrestle on his kitchen floor. Sakura put a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I’m ok.” She knew how he felt about Itachi, of course. “We’ve been together for a month.”
The pinkette looked down at her fiancé. “Shouldn’t we tell him that?”
“Would he listen?”
“Point.”
“IMMA KILL YOU! WHY DON’T YOU EVER DO AS I SAY?!”
“Anyway, what have you got in the bag?”
“It’s the photo-book with your shoot with Itachi in it, and a magazine review.” She took out the photo-book first.
It was really high quality; he smiled as he flipped through it. Sakura gasped as they came to the one of Itachi with his hands up his skirt.
“Jeeze, he really manhandled you didn’t he?”
“Can’t say I was complaining much.”
Sasuke and Itachi hand climbed from the floor to look over their shoulders. Sasuke turned his glare on Itachi again, but this time the situation was defused by Itachi’s poke to his little brother’s forehead.
Makato smiled and leaned back into Itachi’s warm chest, “You wanna read the review, Sakura?”
She took the magazine out, flipped to the proper place, and cleared her throat, evidently skipping the technical part of the review for the social part. “Originally the shoot was to be of Sakura and Itachi, the couple we are already familiar with as the most popular thing since SasuNaru (which is still going strong) but unfortunately our favorite cherry blossom was ill. Makato, being a close friend of Sakura, agreed to do the shoot, and even to the skirt. As we all know, they’ve worked with each other before –once even fighting over the pinkette in question –but before we’d never seen this chemistry. We caught up with Itachi this week but he was the stoic bad-boy we all love. That is until we asked about the relationship between him and Makato. Then he looked away, a small blush on his face (would you believe this, readers, he blushed!) and muttered, “He’s the man I want to marry.”
She did a double take at the page and in the time it took her to gasp, Itachi was on the ground again, this time under Maka, “Yes, yes, yes!”
Itachi smiled between kisses. It was a rare and precious expression, even to his little brother.
“Hey! This means we’re going to be related once I marry Sasuke!”
“Yeah, you’re right!” Maka sat up, straddling Itachi’s waist.
“One big happy family.” Sasuke snorted and rolled his eyes, but his fiancé knew he was happy too.
At that, Maka’s eyes widened and then he winced, looking back down at Itachi. “This means you have to meet my family.”
As if summoned by the words a harsh knock came, and even from the kitchen he could hear his father shouting. “MAKATO TSUKINO, YOU OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW AND EXPLAIN WHY YOU’RE MARRYING A MAN I HAVE NEVER MET!”
“I thought you said your mother wears the pants?” Sasuke asked.
“You ever had your ass kicked by a man in a skirt?”
- 1
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Script Modeling ::Itachi::