Warning: Sex, homosexuality, a little masturbation, bad stuff, bad language, some liberal stretching of canon.
The first fic I've ever written with a lemon taking up the first five pages of nine. X.X I'm so ashamed . . . yeah, right.
Fic is named after One Night in Bangkok by Head Murray.
One Night In Bankok
Part One: To Make Matters Worse
Sasuke stumbled as he ran, grasping the railing and lurching forward unsteadily. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, and somehow knew why and how but didn't care, couldn't care.
Somehow he made his way into a hotel room—how? had he paid the receptionist anything? what was going on? and he'd be discovered and he'd barely managed to escape the first time—and slammed the door behind him, sliding down to the ground to catch his breath before shoving himself forward, colliding with the creaking bed. The floor was disgusting and the room smelled like crap, and Sasuke really couldn't care less.
He dragged himself up and threw himself on the bed, hand traveling between his legs to rub and draw out strangled moans and it felt so goddamn good but he needed something more, something he couldn't give himself.
The door swung open and Naruto was standing there, wide-eyed and hair tousled, a worried expression on his face, and it was the most perfectly timed coincidence the rapidly dying rational part of Sasuke wondered if it wasn't planned.
"Sasuke—what the?"
He moved.
Sasuke was really, really hot with his cheeks flushed like that and his hand . . .
Oh my god, was he masturbating . . .?
"I come all the way out here worried for you and you're . . ."
Sasuke lunged and his body was warm and hard as steel and alive on top of Naruto's, and he was moving frantically as if his life depended on it. Naruto reacted—he was a teenager, he was allowed to get erections at the feeling of an eager body against his own, right, even if the body belonged to the biggest asshole of a guy he'd ever met.
And it wasn't just Naruto's body, some part of him leaned forward breathless in anticipation, waiting for Sasuke to do something else.
Something hard rubbed Naruto's hip and Naruto closed his eyes and let out a strangled moan, before thinking, Oh shit, I have no idea what's going on and this is Sasuke I can't have sex with him I'm not gay why'm I still doing this like hell I'm on bottom!
He managed to roll over, pinning Sasuke to the ground, and felt faintly surprised that he could feel Sasuke's tongue licking eagerly at his lips and Naruto opened his mouth and kissed back fiercely, the way movie stars did. Wet and hot and eager, and none of these were adjectives that Naruto might have ever used in conjunction with Sasuke but now he was and he wouldn't have it any other fucking way.
They got up—Naruto half-carried Sasuke, becoming dimly aware that something wasn't quite right, since when did Sasuke masturbate in hotels?—and landed on the bed, Sasuke letting out an 'oof' as Naruto landed on him.
Sasuke arched up, mouth falling open, eyes closed, and on anyone else Naruto would've thought the expression ridiculous but on Sasuke, he would've given anything—everything—to see Sasuke make that expression again. White, calloused hands scrabbled desperately against the thin sheets, seeking for some kind of purchase, and finally just clenched the cloth tightly, tearing it into shreds when Naruto's mouth descended on his nipple.
The two were only half-dressed and Naruto refused to sneak a hand below Sasuke's waist, terrified of Sasuke suddenly coming back to his senses, which was a very bad thing, and partly terrified that they would become naked and then . . . Even through the fog of confusion and sex and Sasuke, Naruto's mind couldn't come up with the words to describe it, balking at the idea of doing it with another guy . . . doing it with Sasuke . . .
Without really meaning to, he found himself grinding a hard-on into Sasuke's stomach, kissing the black-haired boy sloppily, carelessly, and not really caring about anything other than the sweat-slicked taste of Sasuke's skin and the feel of his body pressing up against Naruto, the strangled half-moan that Naruto would've mistaken the sound for the hotel making its usual noises if not for the bob of Sasuke's Adam's apple.
He tore himself away from Sasuke and the sweet kind of euphoria of the relief that he could do this with someone, that he wouldn't be alone forever because of what was living inside his skin, and met Sasuke's eyes, looking for permission for what he was about to do, though others might have called it stupid.
What he found . . . horrified him.
Black eyes that would've been called empty if not for the overwhelming, aching desire in them, the kind of desire that blotted out everything else, almost like a bloodlust—lust is right, Naruto thought, almost backing away. A certainty: this isn't Sasuke, no way is this Sasuke! None of the anger broiling underneath the too calm exterior, nothing bubbling over the filled cauldron of Sasuke's eyes, simply lust and desire and need.
Needy, Naruto thought; desperate, eager—since when has he been any of those things?
Never, he answered himself sickly.
You can't touch him, a little voice hissed nastily. Something's wrong with him, something's doing this to him. It has nothing to do with you, personally, or even the fact that you're the Demon Fox; you're just here and he needs something, and well, you've got it.
You can't touch him now, not like this, not unless you want to add rape onto your list of crimes.
Naruto did back away then, asking softly, "Sasuke? Are you all right?" in what he hoped was a soothing tone, hoping to buy himself enough time to get the hell out of here. He never would've backed down, ordinarily—but since when was this ordinary? He couldn't fight Sasuke like this, it wouldn't prove anything, only that Naruto could beat Sasuke when the latter was disoriented, blind to everything outside, deaf to Naruto's voice, and focused on something different than winning.
Dumbass, another voice sneered, using Sasuke's words but not his voice and Naruto recognized it immediately.
What the hell are you doing? Naruto demanded, the thought that his silent "guest" had been watching the entire time sending shivers up his spine in a not entirely unpleasant way. He shoved it away; this was not the time!
Then, fiercely, protectively, possessively: he's mine!
Of course, boy, Kyuubi laughed, its voice a mild breeze against his ear and Naruto resisted the urge to whirl around and fight whatever was behind him because there would be nothing there, but since you don't seem to want what he's offering . . .
You can't! Blind panic raced across his mind like white lightning shot through with the jagged purple-red spikes of fear. Sasuke wasn't moving, he noted distantly, still and tense like a wild creature about to attack—which, in Sasuke's present state of mind, wasn't an inaccurate description.
It's not like he would know the difference, Kyuubi said.
Sasuke would know. Sasuke could tell, though he had never met Kyuubi face to face and Naruto hoped to whatever god there was that he never would . . .
But this wasn't Sasuke, and not-Sasuke might be able to tell but probably wouldn't care.
The split second Naruto hesitated—
Kyuubi laughed, flexing its fingers and marveling at how weak they felt without claws, but comfortably aware of the chakra burning through its veins in lieu of blood, and turned red-streaked eyes onto Sasuke's form and smiled cruelly.
Sasuke, on his part, felt nothing but need for this person in front of him, the person whose eyes had taken on a demonic slant, the person who he had to have or he would die and oh gods—!
Kyuubi shoved Sasuke onto his back, tongue licking greedily at Sasuke's neck, lingering over Orochimaru's seal just long enough to change the unfamiliar discomfort at something touching the seal into a warped, twisted pleasure before moving on below. Kyuubi had none of Naruto's hesitations, none of Naruto's uncertain concern for the body below his—he simply took.
It bit Sasuke's skin hard enough to draw blood, lapping that up quickly and unflinchingly, and Sasuke moaned at that utterly sick, beautiful feeling of pain he had to get used to to be able to survive . . .
His cock throbbed between his legs and he yanked Kyuubi down on top of himself, ignoring the half amused half annoyed snarl Kyuubi made and loving the punishing bite on his neck, right over the seal, and he swallowed his scream and bit back at Kyuubi, teeth scraping hard against the skin of Kyuubi's shoulder. Kyuubi fought wildly for a moment, hating and loving this spoiled, human brat for making it lose its control, bringing it to his knees—in a few moments, most likely literally—in a way that no one could do, in a way that only Sasuke Uchiha could do because Sasuke Uchiha drove it crazy with anger and lust and longing and in the back of its mind it remembered that Naruto had wanted this before he had ever known what lust was simply because Sasuke Uchiha hated him for being Naruto and not Kyuubi.
"Fucking brat," Kyuubi growled against Sasuke's stomach, wanting Sasuke for reasons beyond its understanding.
It flipped Sasuke on his stomach.
"C'mon," Kyuubi was hissing against the skin of Sasuke's back. "Don't you want this?"
Sasuke gave a choked laugh and, some part of Naruto bleeding into the demon fox, Kyuubi had time to reflect that that was the first time it'd ever heard Sasuke's laughter. It preferred some of Sasuke's other noises and set about trying to make Sasuke gasp them all.
Kyuubi drew back suddenly, fighting to gain control of itself and succeeding. Sasuke hissed, reaching out for it. The demon fox batted its hands away, thinking.
"Shut up, kit," Kyuubi said. He would have been such a lovely kitsune… "Forgot how fragile you stupid humans are."
It wanted to hurt Sasuke, wanted to make him bleed and beg for the Nine Tails to stop. Wanted Sasuke to surrender and wouldn't've been pleased if he had. The sheer desire was creeping up on it, overtaking its senses slowly, and Kyuubi moved forward, lust reducing the demon to an instinctive, blind animal.
Sasuke found himself on his hands and knees, legs spread apart like he was in some cheap porno, while something long and slender dug between the cheeks of his ass, and it hurt. He arched up trying to get it out and keep it in at the same time; it felt that good and bad.
He squirmed frantically when another digit entered him, yelping and drawing out a long moan when one finger brushed across something sending sparks shooting through his body and this was what he wanted and needed.
Kyuubi didn't have to concentrate for the next part; it'd done it enough in the course of its long life for it to be instinctive. It withdrew his fingers, not missing the little moan of protest the Uchiha made, and entered Sasuke swiftly.
…he's a virgin The thought surprised the demon into stopping. It wasn't that it cared or attached any kind of sentimental value onto virginity; but the boy hadn't been fucked already? He was pretty in an "abuse me" way that Kyuubi liked, and he was a whore for power. The merest hint of it and the boy would be on his back with his legs spread, and everyone knew it.
"What are you stopping for?" Sasuke demanded, regaining enough coherency to speak and pushing against the demon insistently.
"Slut," Kyuubi breathed mockingly, watching as the muscles in Sasuke's back clenched as he tensed up. Sasuke's inner walls clamped down around it and Kyuubi grinned victoriously, moving again and establishing a rhythm with Sasuke's thrusts.
And then it brushed across something that turned Sasuke inside out and made him beg for more without even realizing it, little sobs and whimpers coming out his mouth so uncharacteristic of him that Kyuubi knew Naruto would never be able to look at Sasuke without thinking of this moment, whether or not he remembered it.
Skin against skin, sweat dripping off Sasuke's forehead as his arms shook with the effort of holding him up and when Kyuubi came in him, Sasuke followed a few minutes after and collapsed in on himself, arms folding knees buckling and he lay on his own come.
Eyes fluttering shut as Kyuubi licked his back, the smirk tangible against Sasuke's skin. "Not half-bad," Kyuubi said, "for your first time."
Sasuke tasted like drugs. Sickeningly sweet, artificial, and Kyuubi added two plus two and came up with four.
It decided it would have to thank Kabuto for this unintentional gift.
The first thing Sasuke was aware of was that he hurt. A better word would be ached: he ached all over, the pain dull and throbbing like an old sore, until he moved. The pain turned fresher and brighter, streaking across his mind in a color he could only describe as red, and . . .
Memories of skin against skin, of a craving he couldn't satisfy with mere food . . .
The banging of someone's fist against the door and Sakura's voice calling, "Sasuke-kun!"
Scuffling noises outside the door and Sasuke froze when he noticed his clothes ripped to pieces and the shreds thrown haphazardly around the room.
"You think he's in there?"
"I dunno, why don't you go and check?"
"Why's he sleeping if he just got kidnapped?"
"Don't make fun of Sasuke-kun, pineapple head!"
". . ."
"The guy probably wanted some down time and split. Why're we running after Konoha's spoiled brat?"
All the voices were familiar, and he placed the last one with a silent groan. That blond girl, the one with the ponytail and ridiculous infatuation—Ino, or something.
Kidnapped? I was . . . kidnapped?
Oh yeah. That silver-haired man . . .
The door shattered and Kakashi-sensei's familiar but not at all welcome face was sticking through the door, visible eye scanning through the wreckage to find Sasuke huddled up on the bed, blankets pooling at his waist.
"Ah. Sasuke-kun." Kakashi-sensei stepped through—Ino and Sakura were inside immediately and Sasuke's heart leapt into his mouth for some reason—and surveyed the scene, hands tucked in his pockets.
Sakura squeaked and blushed bright red when she noticed a scrap of clothing on the floor, and made the obvious conclusion.
"Sasuke-kun! I'm so sorry!" She whirled around, bolting out the door, Ino following close behind. The Hyuuga came in calmly, followed by a spiky-headed boy—Sasuke didn't know his name or didn't remember.
Sasuke stared at the three of them flatly, daring them to say something and not sure if moving was a good idea or not. Their eyes were assessing, staring at the hickey-shaped bruises and cuts, Sasuke's nakedness, and coming up with the right answer.
Sasuke tried to get to his feet.
He stopped himself from screaming, but only barely.
"Have you seen Naruto?" Kakashi-sensei finally asked. "He was looking for you."
Sasuke held the blanket around his waist and shrugged, keeping his face a schooled mask of neutrality.
"No," he said blandly.
He turned away: what a lie.
Kakashi-sensei turned away: I know.
Kabuto had made a mistake, but it was not his fault. That much Orochimaru was willing to forgive. He had sent Kabuto to find Sasuke and bring him, perhaps with the aid of a drug Sasuke wouldn't be able to resist, and it hadn't ended the way Orochimaru expected.
Orochimaru didn't expect Sasuke to be strong enough to fight back to slip Kabuto's gaze for those few, precious seconds, and he didn't expect Sasuke to run so hard and far so quickly. He hadn't thought that Kabuto would use an aphrodisiac of all drugs. And he hadn't expected the Nine Tails to be waiting in precisely the right spot as though everything had been planned out beforehand without him, and it . . . it annoyed him.
It did a hell of a lot more than annoy him. Kabuto watched Orochimaru think. His stance didn't waver, every muscle tensed in preparation of the punishment he knew beyond a doubt was coming. And he deserved every bit of pain, every bit of agony, and he would accept it all faithfully.
Some distant part—a large part—hissed it wasn't fair. Sasuke was just some stupid, spoiled brat, whereas Kabuto had served Orochimaru for years, gathering information and poisoning the occasional overly-nosey ninja. Why was Sasuke the one selected to be his vessel? Why not Kabuto? Sasuke didn't even have skill—he had potential, potential that might never even flower.
"Kabuto." Orochimaru's voice jerked him out of his daze, but he didn't look up. A subtle shift of movement, and it was clear that he was listening.
"Find him. Keep an eye on him." Him. It was clear who he was. Kabuto swallowed his resentment. He was Orochimaru-sama's follower, he had no right to question his master's orders.
He stood up and left.
Itachi had very good hearing. Very good. He heard the distant grumblings of discontented ninjas disliking what they did—ninja, he thought sometimes, who were unable to follow directions. Unable to close themselves off from their emotions. He didn't care about them. The plans Leaf made to move against Orochimaru, the fool, for instance.
He also heard that something had gone very wrong with Orochimaru's plan of kidnapping Sasuke, and the Kyuubi had done something to his foolish younger brother and was now loose.
Well. Wasn't that interesting.
"Kisame," he said. The shark looked up from his precious blade, ready to act.
Itachi started walking, not looking to see if Kisame would follow.
The Kyuubi had no idea why it had stayed with Sasuke long enough to fuck him, but it had no regrets. It never had regrets, aside from being forced to fit in this pathetic, perpetually childish human body.
It didn't know why it hadn't devoured the baby's soul—Naruto, it thought disgustedly, the vessel's name is Naruto—instantly. It was certainly weak enough to eat, and the Hokage had to have known that. It was pure, unadulterated stupidity, expecting the soul of a baby to overpower a nine-tailed kitsune. Nine tails—did that mean nothing to humans, age directly proportional to power and both growing bigger each day? And then, for that blond human to trap him in the body of a child whose soul wouldn't have posed a problem to him when he'd had only one tail . . . the ultimate insult, and Kyuubi was not one to let slurs pass that easily.
The soul was dormant and as Kyuubi thought, it traced a hand over the squiggly line of the seal that used to keep it in. Well, no more, it thought.
It had been the ultimate revenge for the ultimate insult, influencing the soul's thoughts and goals in its direction. Make the soul become their leader, the one they strived to become, to imitate, unknowing that their greatest enemy was controlling their strings all the while. Become what they had thought to destroy—all good kitsune could wait, and all kitsune who waited got what they wanted eventually.
It had worked, hadn't it? The soul's guard had relaxed just a bit, a millionth of a second, and the Nine Tails ripped the door open and leapt for freedom . . . and made it.
Sasuke . . . it had been surprised to find the soul relaxing in the presence of the brat, but it saw a chance for entertainment and took it. Very little amused demons, aside from killing and fucking, after all.
The brat was beautiful and Kyuubi devoured him, took his body and soul and kept it for its own. It'd wasted time though, precious time that it could have spent adjusting to this body. Maybe learning how to blend in if it chose that alternate route.
Demons had no regrets and Kyuubi was no different.
"I'd like to do it again," it murmured softly and felt the soul stir slightly in protest. Stupid kit . . . does it really think it has a choice here?
Still. It bothered him, remembering the soul's fury, the soul's possessiveness. Greedy little thing, aren't you? Too bad—you're not the one in control anymore.
Nyar. First chapter done.
Finished: February 11, 2005
Revised: February 11, 2005