Chapter Text
Uchiha Fugaku and Mikoto were married for 15 years this week, and they asked Itachi if he could watch over Sasuke while they went out. Itachi couldn’t refuse. At first, he didn’t tell his five-year-old brother. He planned a movie night, asking his parents to buy and hide snacks. His mother left him some leftovers so Itachi wouldn’t have to cook. He was just barely a teen, and his mother didn’t trust him yet with the oven.
Mikoto had planned to go to the restaurant with her husband. Itachi didn’t really care what their plan was. They left just before dinner, and they would come back past the child’s bedtime, maybe before Itachi would go to bed, they didn’t know. Mikoto instructed Itachi not to have Sasuke go to bed too late. It was fine for the teen. Anyway, most movies they owned were children’s, so they weren’t that long.
Itachi told Sasuke about the plan only minutes before their parents left.
“What do you think about watching a movie together before you go to bed? You can choose it and I won’t argue, I promise.”
Itachi usually complained when his brother wanted to watch cartoons, but he wanted to make his brother happy this time.
“Yeah! Can I choose it right now?”
“We should eat first, don’t you think? I’m hungry, aren’t you?”
Sasuke shook his head. Itachi being a teenager, he was always hungry, but today, his stomach was growling. He didn’t know yet what his mother had left him, but he’d eat anything.
“Let’s go, we’re going to eat and then while I wash the dishes you’ll get to choose the movie and skip the trailers and logos, so when I get there, you can click play and we watch together. If you finish your plate, I might give you some snacks.”
Suddenly, Sasuke was interested. What was a movie without snacks?
Itachi opened the fridge and grumbled. He loved the meal his mother had prepared. But he also knew it was not Sasuke’s taste. The texture of it had a tendency to trigger the boy’s gag reflexes. Itachi sighed, preparing himself mentally for a fight over the food. Maybe he should wait for Sasuke to be hungrier, else Sasuke would refuse the meal, then complain he’s hungry and empty all the snacks.
They went outside to play for a bit, until Sasuke mentioned wanting to eat. Itachi put one plate in the microwave. When it was warm to his liking, Itachi gave it to his brother, intending to warm his own right after.
“No! I don’t want to eat this.”
“You don’t have any choice, Sasuke,” Itachi said, firmly. He didn’t want to deal with his brother. Why did their mom prepare something she fully knew Sasuke disliked? He ate almost everything except this. Every time it was a fight for him not to spit half his barely chewed food back into the plate. “I know you don’t like it, but eat at least a third of it. Take smaller bites, it should go down easier. I can give you water too.”
Sasuke went to pick a piece of it, and Itachi had a feeling it’d be too big for the child’s mouth. It surely would trigger him.
“Smaller bite, Sasuke. I know you want to eat it the fastest you can, but I won’t give in even if you spit it out.”
The child rolled his eyes, but listened. Itachi made a smile, and was going to say, “See, it’s not that bad,” when he suddenly saw his brother put a hand under his chin, his throat seemingly making his food go back up.
“Swallow it, Sasuke,” Itachi warned his brother. He knew the drill. The boy did it on purpose, repeating the process until their parents had enough or he made himself sick by forcing his food up.
Too little too late, his brother spit up half chewed food into his hand. Itachi shook his head, standing up to get a kitchen cloth to clean Sasuke’s hand from the mix of food and saliva.
“I can’t eat it, it doesn’t go down, Itachi,” Sasuke started to cry out.
“It doesn’t because you see yourself spitting it up. Take a deep breath and chew and it will go down. You gag before it even reaches your mouth!”
Sasuke started pouting, and Itachi was almost tempted to make a plane with Sasuke’s chopsticks just like when he was a baby. Because he was acting like one.
Sasuke barely ate anything, but Itachi ended up not saying anything, because they were fighting, and Itachi didn’t have his father’s authority on Sasuke. Too bad, his dinner would consist of popcorn and sweets and unhealthy food. After all, movie nights were rare occasions. It was his mother’s fault; she should have known he’d refuse to eat. At least, Sasuke would have something down his stomach.
Sasuke waited for Itachi to be done with cleaning up before playing the movie. The boy had chosen Itachi’s favorite when he was five. It made Itachi laugh at how similar their tastes were at this age. The opening song wasn’t done yet and Sasuke was eating mouthfuls of candies.
“Hey, slow down, they’re not only for you!”
Sasuke stuck his tongue out, before taking another handful of popcorn. Itachi reacted by tickling the boy. They laughed together as they watched the movie. Itachi loved these moments with Sasuke, when he behaved.
Soon enough, his brother stopped eating. Assuming he had eaten enough sugar, Itachi grabbed the chocolates and started eating the half remaining. But then Sasuke started moving every minute, switching position from half-lying on Itachi to sitting with his feet dangling in the void because of his short size.
“Are you not comfortable, Sasuke?” Itachi said while pulling his brother closer to him.
The boy moaned. The lights were off, their bodies were only lit by the TV, but Itachi could see some discomfort in the boy’s face.
“What’s wrong?”
Itachi turned to the other side to get the remote, intending to pause the movie, when he heard a gagging sound coming from Sasuke, and felt the boy giving himself a swing to shift to the edge of the sofa. A quick look to the boy, he had his hand over his mouth.
Itachi clicked the pause button and Sasuke immediately started projecting vomit all over himself and the floor.
“f*ck,” Itachi said, panicking. He had never taken care of Sasuke when he was sick. He grabbed the boy up and put him down further from the sofa, scared he’d be sick on it. He didn’t look forward to cleaning the vomit, but he was not stupid. It was easier to wash a wooden floor than the sofa’s fabric. He held Sasuke’s hair from his face with one hand, drawing circles on the boy’s back with the other. He wasn’t sure of what to do, but tried remembering what his parents did when Itachi was sick.
When Sasuke stopped vomiting, panting, and trying to catch his breath, tears in his eyes, Itachi decided to ask, “Do you think you’ll be sick again?”
Sasuke seemed to hesitate. “Mmm-mmm,” filled with worry.
“Can you make it to the toilet?”
Sasuke started walking toward the bathroom, preferring not to talk. Itachi followed, knowing the boy probably wanted someone to comfort him. Itachi had climbed half the stairs when Sasuke started running. Itachi prayed silently for his brother to get to the toilet in time.
The teen felt bad for the kid as he was sick again. Itachi tried to be discreet as he looked away, disgusted by what was leaving his brother’s mouth, the smell of it, and the retching sounds. Sasuke’s stomach seemed to finally calm down for a minute. Itachi flushed the toilet, surely the look of it wasn’t helping anyone.
“Stay here in case you have to throw up once more. I’ll get you a clean set of pajamas. Do you want to rest in your bed or take a bath first?”
“Bath,” Sasuke whispered, wiping a tear with the back of his clean hand.
Itachi turned on the tap, checking the water’s temperature before leaving to get a set of clean clothes for his brother to wear. He then helped him take his dirty t-shirt off without making a mess. He tried to avoid Sasuke seeing his vomit and prevent the smell from hitting him. Anything to help his nausea. Itachi was surprised his own stomach handled it.
He washed Sasuke up and put him to bed, setting a trash can next to his nightstand. Sasuke looked to feel very poorly, a hand over his stomach. Itachi wished he knew how to make him feel better and felt so powerless.
He returned to the living room to assess the mess Sasuke made. He took a few cleaning supplies from the closet and started to clean most of it with a cloth before washing the floor with a mop and soap. When he was done, he grabbed the cloth and Sasuke’s clothes, rinsed them in the bathroom sink, dumped it in the laundry room and started the washing machine. He then checked on Sasuke. He seemed to have fallen asleep. Grateful, Itachi decided to return to the living room. He put the sound on low, as minimal as he could while being able to hear it, and watched the rest of the movie. He took a mental note of the timestamp of where Sasuke left it at, in case he wanted to continue it the next morning. If Itachi thought about it, he should rewind when he’s done.
The teen regretted not asking his parents where they were heading. They’d probably want to know about Sasuke being unwell, but Itachi didn’t want to ruin their date night either. So he sat in front of the TV, keeping his ears open in case Sasuke puked again, or screamed for him. Itachi couldn’t help but feel tense. He was a bit afraid his brother would need him and Itachi wouldn’t know what to do.
The movie wasn’t done when the front door opened. Itachi immediately stood up.
“Did you have fun?”
“Yes!” Mikoto said, blushing and looking at Fugaku with a teasing smile.
“I don’t want to know!” Itachi immediately said, annoyed at his parents showing to each other some attention.
Fugaku frowned. “Did you start a load of laundry?”
Itachi bit his lips and admitted, “Sasuke threw up all over himself.”
Both parents suddenly got worried. “Is he ok?”
“Last time I checked, he was sleeping.”
His mother ran upstairs to check on her youngest. Fugaku looked at his son. “Thank you for taking care of him while we were out. What happened?”
Itachi told his father the story. He didn’t know if it was the mix of the food Sasuke didn’t like combined with too many sweets, or a virus. At this point, Itachi preferred not knowing. His mother would take care of Sasuke if he got sick again, so Itachi finished the movie and relaxed before heading to bed.
