Work Text:
Itachi is unused to the feel of jewelry around his fingers. The necklace Shisui gifted him years ago hangs perpetually over his clavicles, yet it’s covered from view by the high collars of his clothing; it’s simply a part of his body now. A ring, on the other hand, seems conspicuous, and somewhat impractical. He wonders if it would hinder his usual deftness when weaving hand-signs or slipping kunai through with practiced muscle, lightning-fast. But fortunately (or unfortunately), wearing it is not an issue; secrecy demands Itachi keep Shisui's ring pocketed most of the time, out of sight.
Sometimes, when he’s alone, he takes it out and studies it once again, watches how the gold band catches light. Rolls it around his fingers absently, so that the material is as warm as blood and its scent imprinted on his skin. He fiddles and holds and tries it on again, yet his touch never dulls its shine.
*
Shisui suddenly takes to wearing gloves with his standard Leaf uniform. Sasuke is the only one who makes a remark of them, how he seems to be copying Kakashi's style. "Are you trying to look cool all of a sudden? Maybe you should ask for your money back." It gets a good-natured laugh out of Shisui. A laugh, but no answer. The conversation at their table evolves to some other topic, the bar chatter surrounding them acting as a distracting ambience.
Itachi is the only other who knows there's a ring, identical to his own, hiding on Shisui's left gloved hand, obscured by the leathery fabric that reaches up to the knuckles of his fingers. It's not visible, but he perceives it there always, nonetheless. Feels its warm weight sink into him, straight into the pulsing heat of his chest, when Shisui squeezes his shoulder.
*
Some nights, late nights with finished paper work neatly stacked next to the Hokage hat on his desk and Shisui's team on some distant mission, he slips his own ring on and in that instant, he's holding his beloved's hand. Their fingers are threaded, snug and chastely intimate. Connected by an invisible thread, like in stories, by twin promise rings not unlike the fateful red string. Two rings that almost resemble, when worn, two slivered crescent moons. An eclipse. A marriage.
*
"It means I'm yours, so you're stuck with me," Shisui tries to joke when he first presents the two gold circles nestled in his palm. Then, having flustered himself, "Or something like that."
The lighting could not be more romantic. Evening descending softly over them at their favorite spot by the cliff, the twilit trees and gleam of the river falls and sheen of their dark hair all sun-gilt to match the bright little bands in Shisui’s hand. Itachi doesn’t remember these details until afterwards.
For now, his voice is caught in his throat all while Shisui slides one of the rings onto his ring finger—fumbling with the task at first, hands trembling with an uncharacteristic unsteadiness and neck flushed—but when it's his turn to return the gesture, a calm settles his rabbit-heart. Calm which rises from a knowingness, a comfort in realizing that this is what makes sense; is exactly as things should be.
The ring barely haloes Shisui's finger when Itachi leans forward and catches his mouth with a depth and excitement that dazes them both. Eyelids still fluttering, Itachi's voice is light with near-breathless happiness when their gazes find each other’s again:
"It means 'I love you.'"