After a long mission, Nagato slunk back in the rain, broken and bleeding. Reaching his bedroom—luckily undisturbed by any of the pestering members that lived in the mountain base—he settled down on the edge of his bed, kicking off his ninja sandals. The prideful leader would never allow any of his subordinates to see him in such a condition. Well, none of them except Konan. The Rain Village called her an angel, and secretly he agreed tenfold. His bloody trail of footsteps didn't go unnoticed, and soon the beautiful blue-haired kunochi made a timid knock on his door.
"Sir? Nagato-sama? May I come in?" inquired a sweet, shy voice from behind his black stained door. He allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction before answering in a deep, monotone voice.
"Enter." Nagato heard the flinch of her nails against the doorknob. His uptight voice always made her jump the first time she heard it in a day. She shyly entered his quarters with two boxes, one under each arm. Nagato raised an eyebrow, wondering what his angel could possibly be carrying. She let the heavy door click shut behind her, eyes never leaving the floor.
"I noticed blood and I…I got worried, sir…" Konan stuttered her way through the sentence, looking up to make eye contact but quickly moved her gaze to her painted toenails. If she didn't have materials under her arms, she would be playing with the hem of her cloak sleeve in that adorable way only she could. Nagato's eyes sparked with amusement as she gracefully walked over and sat the packages down upon his black silk comforter that lay neatly tucked it over his mattress. Opening one of the boxes, she took out a bottle of pale pink crème and some cotton gauze. Obliging to her help, he removed his cut and tattered cloak, hanging the ragged cloth on the end of the headboard. If only she knew how grateful I am for her help. Thank you, my angel. His thoughts tormented him; he would never be able to tell her without the other noticing the change in their behavior. Konan couldn't keep a blank face under the influence of strong emotions, and Nagato himself was having a problem keeping his eyes blank when the Akatsuki held meetings.
"Watch my rib." He drawled, causing her to twitch.
"S-sorry Nagato-sama I didn't mean to press so much!" Her face turned pale and Konan quickly removed the gauze pad from his slit side. She murmured several more apologies, crushing his heart from guilt. Why can you not just be mine, his mind screamed. These emotions for her tore his very soul apart. Nagato had to remain away from her for his cause; for the world's betterment. Still, his heart twisted painfully as he saw her begin to pack up the gauze and crème, eyes dull from his supposed disappointment. I don't care that you hurt me, my angel. It wasn't your fault! is what he wanted to say, but the thought stayed locked inside his mind.
"And the other box?" He muttered in a mildly irritated tone. Her deep red-brown eyes flashed as she allowed a small smile, a beautifully graceful smile, to adorn her features.
"That is for you, Nagato-sama. It is your birthday, after all." Her tone echoed with delight, though her face remained for the most part mildly content. She remembered? How was it that even when Nagato tried to ignore her, make her go, even so far as to make himself HATE her, she brought out the best of memories and feelings from his frigid heart. "I hope you like it, sir…" Konan's voice trailed off as he elegantly slid his arm across the sheets to rest his hand on the simple white box. Her eyes watched his every move with a slight defensive taint to them, as if she couldn't force herself to glance away and didn't want him to notice. He placed the paper box in his lap, before turning to face her, his knees folded upon the bed.
"Come." He beckoned her to him, glancing to the edge of the king size mattress.
"Sir?" her voice, so unsure, hurt him. I'll love whatever it is Konan. Don't you know that? Why can't you see that? He repressed a shiver as she walked over, sitting gently on the edge of the bed. He slowly pulled the lid off, and she looked on like a child watching over the shoulder of a friend opening a present. We aren't kids any longer, but it is quite adorable the way she watches me, he reflected, amusement fighting its way onto his stoic face. Seeing his mouth twitch into a smile, Konan's face opened up into a soft, sweet grin.
"Do you like it sir?" Konan questioned, her voice was endearingly filled with joyfulness.
He lifted the origami out of its container, examining it. The little wooden house with three figures clearly seen in the windows was painted down to even the nails in the beams. Three children were sitting around an oaken table, sharing a meal of rice and frog's legs. The orange haired boy with a wide grin posed to throw rice at the red-haired one, who had an irritated look on his face. A blue haired girl frozen in laughter was seated between them at the table. Nagato dropped every emotional barrier he held up, smiling in a full grin as he touched the crooked, worn door to the cabin. Konan looked at him in shock.
"Sir…?" She questioned, astonished at seeing a grin across his face.
"I remember this day too, Konan." His arms were suddenly around her shoulders, gripping her in a loose hug.
"Nagato-sama, are you feeling well?" She choked out, pale face flushing red. She squirmed from his grip, looking him in the eyes and pressing her palm to his forehead. He pressed his face into her hand, and she squeaked with surprise. He took her palm in his and laced his fingers with her, causing the blush to deepen.
"Konan, it means a lot to me that you bothered to remember my birthday." His eyes traveled to her hand in his, and her eyes followed, flashing in the low lamplight of his room. "But that isn't why I've captured your hand." He smirked, feeling her palm heat up in his wounded hand. His thumb grazed the back of her smooth skin, Konan nearly melting into his grasp. "My Lady Angel, for many years I have known you as friend, comrade, and loyal follower. None of those titles are what I want you to be to me."
"Nagato…" The honorific was lost somewhere along in her confused and jumbled thoughts; her nailed gripped the back of his palm tightly, not wanting to let go. Her eyes glowed in the soft light of the room as he pulled her closer to himself, her shoulder resting on his chest. He took her chin in his palm, and tilted her face up to meet his gaze.
"I long for you to be more than my co-worker or even friend. Please be mine, Angel." The pleading look in his eyes strengthened her stunned smile.
"I—" Nagato cut her off quickly by bringing his lips down onto her soft mouth, his hand sliding from her chin to the back of her head. She stiffened at first before melting into the kiss. Her soft hand let go of his and pressed against the skin of his bare torso. It seemed like an eternity later that Nagato finally released her from his lips. Both of them looked at one another, blush rising on Nagato's cheekbones. He slid his hand from her head down around to her shoulder, pulling her with him as he slid up to rest against the headboard of the bed. Konan reddened as the moment caused her to lay across his lap, skin peaking through where kunai had split the fabric of his pants open. He gently pushed her over onto her back, his arms wrapping around her stomach. If it had been any other man, let alone any other person, Konan would have burst into slivers of paper, leaving the being covered in painfully tiny paper cuts. In the low light of the quiet room, the pair of friends-turned-lovebirds dozed softly, exhausted by their day's work as Akatsuki and by the surge of emotions neither had revealed for many years.
The couple awakened to find that Nagato's wounded legs had stained the black silk deep red with blood. Dizzily sitting up, Nagato reached for the intercom mouthpiece to call Kakuzu when a soft hand pressed his arm to the bloodied silken quilt.
"Let me help you, Nagato." Nagato agreed, and his face fading pink as he removed his pants. Nagato, the leader of the Akatsuki, student of the Toad Sage, leader of the Rain Village had never once removed his pants for a woman for any reason. Feeling quite bare, he reached for his tattered cloak, only to be stopped again by the same tender hand. "I have to see your wounds, Nagato-kun." Kun? I like the sound of that, he thought to himself, realizing then that he no longer must keep his thoughts a secret from her.
"I like –kun much better than –sama, Konan-chan," he whispered in her ear as she kneeled by his side to tend a large slash in the flesh by his hip. He could feel the heat in her face as she focused her eyes on the lesion, her soft skin brushing up against his. Shivers traveled down his spine as she pressed a palm to stop the bleeding of the angry injury. Moments later, Konan bound the wound and began feeling his thigh in the dark of the room for any more scratches. Nagato suddenly hugged her to his chest, toppling over onto his back and pulling her with him.
"Nagato—!" His mouth slammed into her lips, cutting off her surprise. It was all he could do to keep himself from moaning with pleasure. Konan melted into the kiss before pulling away. "You have to let me find the wounds, that or turn on a light in this cave you call a bedroom!" There was a hint of the "Old Konan" in her voice: motherly, strong-willed, feisty. All of that changed after their dear friend died. It rejuvenated Nagato to hear her speak like that again. He allowed her up, and he remained on the soft carpet of the floor as she felt his legs for injuries. Upon finding one scar, she ran her cool finger along the edge until she reached the hem of his boxers. She bit her lip. "How on earth did they hurt you all the way along your hip?"
"Long blades will do that, my angel," Nagato mumbled, his voice taunt with something other than pain. Konan quickly pulled the hem of the boxers up, trying to judge how far it went along the front of his pelvis. To her horror she saw it turn off toward and up to his abdominal muscles. "You look concerned. Is it that bad?" He croaked; Konan had yet to realize that her hand was pressing against his inner thigh, driving a long buried sense mad. She moved her hand, noticing Nagato release a breath.
"I'm sorry, Nagato! Was I hurting you?" Her voice broke his heart with the worry and distress it held.
"No my angel. You did not hurt me." He didn't know how to place into words the desires that filled his mind and consumed his every thought. "Tell me why you sound worried now, Konan."
"It's not that bad but the wound is under your clothing…" the kunochi's voice trailed off as Nagato smirked at her.
"Would you like me to have Kakuzu—?"
"No! No. I can handle it." Her voice resonated with determination, though her face was redder than his bloodied carpet. You may be able to, but I am not sure I can, my angel. Some thoughts were better kept to himself. Her delicate fingers unclipped her cloak, letting it slide from her body. What is she—Oh. She needs more bandages. He disgusted himself by the disappointment in his mind. His rational thoughts faded as his eyes caught the pale skin of her shoulder. Her black midriff and fishnet shirt complimented her milky skin nicely, and her body had much more appeal in curves than Nagato had previously been able to view with her in the cloak. Such a gem. How did I get so lucky? Her strong arms tore apart the sleeve of her cloak, the rich fabric shredding easily in her hands. She inspected the cloth before turning her attention to Nagato's boxers. Konan felt a strange sensation wash over her, settling in the center of her belly as a warm coil of heat. Her index fingers and thumbs gripped the cloth just above each of his hips, sliding the cloth off his body. Her eyes focused on his face as she felt the underclothes slide easier along over his thighs and down to his calves. His eyes were shut, apparently focusing on something. Brilliant time to meditate, Nagato. Just keep your eyes shut. I won't feel so nervous. She forced her gaze down to his chest, then to his stomach, abs, and finally reaching his hips. Konan felt him tense as she applied a bit of antiseptic to the scar. She tapped his thigh and he moved his leg so that his knee was bent, making it easier for her to begin wrapping the wound at the upper end of his thigh. Focusing on wrapping the injured skin, she didn't realize until it was too late that her eyes had traveled below his hips. Her face heated up and the wave of warmth in her belly jumped up into her throat and spread over her entire body. Suddenly Konan's summer clothing was way too warm. His manhood would have set off much resentful chatter among the other males in the base, who often argued about the obscene topic of "who's was bigger." What caught her eye more than his body was the tension coiled in his muscles just above it. The snake of warmth in her stomach seemed to possess her mind as she reached a cool hand out to stroke the tense abdominals. His eyes shot open, baring the resemblance to a hungry wolf.
"Konan please that's torture." The animalistic gaze turned pleading, unsure of where the words emerged from. The words were thick with desire; Konan heard the intention on his voice. She moved her hand along the top of his pelvis, drawing one pointed nail around his hipbone. Unable to keep it in his throat, Nagato groaned, his manhood reacting to the gentle touch quite noticeably. Konan blushed softly, eyes flickering to his member as he sat up and placed his hands on the lace up back of her tight top. Nagato stopped with fingers on the ties as he looked to Konan for permission. Instead of granting it, she ripped her own shirt off. Taken by surprise, Nagato lunged like a startled animal, his movements betraying his power and grace as a ninja. Without knowing what hit her, Konan found herself in Nagato's bed, surrounded by the smell of silk and blood. His lips attacked her neck with a flurry of kisses and nibbles and on a few occasions, bites. The warmth that had spread through her became a heated passion of utter desire for the man that now nibbled just above her exposed breast. She felt his manhood stiff against the side of her thigh and she moved her knee under it, pressing into him gently. A desperate moan escaped her lovebird, and he rolled his hips forward to meet her own, pressing his erect manhood against her knee. Warm wetness began to gather between Konan's thighs as she allowed him to pin her arms above her head and her body beneath his heaving chest. His tongue pressed forcefully into her mouth, exploring her cheeks and his hands felt down around her ribs, hips, and coming to rest on her inner thighs.
"Nagato…" Her voice whispered as he pulled out of the heavy kiss, hand descending down her pants to play with a curl of hair between her thighs. She gasped, wrenching her arms free from his grasp and slipping them around his neck, pulling his head to her chest. His lips rested between her breasts.
"You're my captive angel, Konan. Nobody else can ever take you away from me. Never." His voice was powerful, obsessive, and full of meaning. Nagato left a trail of soft kisses from her chest to her abs; shivers ran down both their spines, triggering them to arch against one another. Nagato grunted as her knee dug into his right thigh, surprised by her boldness. In retaliation to her move, he grasped the edge of her pants and stripped them from her body. Cold seeped into the heated skin in between her thighs and she gasped. Konan's hands shot down to his hips and pulled him onto her. She could feel the tip of his manhood prodding at the thin material of her underwear, begging to be let in. The cloth was all that separated them from each other. Nagato's strong hand to the crotch of her panties and easily stripped the fabric from her body, leaving her baren. Konan's face flushed as he slowly sat up to study his 'captive angel.'
"You're so beautiful. Why must you always hide under that cloak?"
"Because, O mighty Leader-sama, you said it's uniform." Even now she had the resiliency to make a snarky remark.
"Oh dear, Konan. You should know better than to disrespect me." Her eyes fearfully darted up to his, checking to see if his suddenly monotone comment was mocking or for real. Seeing the mischievousness flashing in his eyes, she made a fake pout.
"Konan is a good follower! I'll behave—" She cut off with a shriek as Nagato slid a finger into the folds of her womanhood.
The small woman shook with a tremor of pain, crying out again and digging her sharp nails into Nagato's shoulders. Nagato knew it would hurt her. He hated himself for having to hurt her. But I'd damn myself to hell if it's another man that takes her! Her violent shaking smoothed out as an intense wave of pleasure surged over her. This feels better now. Really good. Almost too good.Konan, lost in her pleasure, barely noticed when Nagato began searching her for the special nerves that he knew would carry her over the edge. He wanted to please his angel. Hell, he wanted to make her scream with pleasure. Nagato's search rewarded him when he came into contact with a bundle of highly sensitive nerves, sending Konan's vision swimming as she rode out an unfamiliar, tremendous wave of pure hormonal pleasure. If she had been sane at the time, the feeling would have scared her, but in Nagato's grasp everything was pleasure to her.
Nagato allowed her to settle before sliding another finger into her, stretching them slightly apart to widen her womanhood. The pleasure ended abruptly and a slicing pain once again wracked the poor woman's body. She screamed, only to be cut off by her lover's lips. She struggled, kunochi training telling her to rid herself of the painful situation, but Nagato held her fast with his unoccupied hand around her thin waist. Her eyes looked into his grey-purple gems, begging him to stop. He liked the begging look. Nagato wanted to see more. He slid a third finger into his captive angel, relishing the feel of her struggling against him. Konan's body overcame itself with a mixture of agonizing pain and sensual pleasure. All at once she broke into the same dizzying indulgence that made her vision spot white and black when her friend-turned-lover slid yet another finger into her tight folds.
"It'll be better soon," Nagato cooed in her ear, feeling her fight against him. Tears began sliding down her face against the young lady's will, resulting in the removal of the digits inside her. She gasped in shock at the sudden relax of the space, and looked up to find Nagato's nervous face above her. She could feel the stiffness of his manhood against the side of her wet thigh, pulsing with his pleasure. He's so nervous it's almost funny, Konan giggled to herself. Then the blue-haired kunochi thought up an evil idea. Her hand snaked down his side, and she let her giggles surface.
"What's so funny, my a—ahhnnnn…" Nagato groaned vociferously as the palm of his lover wrapped around his rigid member. Konan chuckled and squeezed slightly, tempting him by pressing him to the top of her heat. She became playful with him, teasing him, feeling his back tense up under her nails. "Konan don't…Stop that, angel, please!" After only a few minutes of this, Nagato found he couldn't control himself anymore. He grunted like a beast and took her wrists, pinning them above her head and slammed into her. She shrieked bloody murder, fighting against him with all her strength. The pair of highly skilled, well trained shinobi was reduced to mere animals in a matter of moments. Konan managed to free one arm, slashing her nails down into Nagato's shoulder. Hissing at the pain, he retaliated by forcing himself deeper into her. Another screech, followed by a trickle of blood neither of them noticed. His feral thrusts sped up as Konan began to arch into him, giving up the fight. Nagato growled and bit into her collarbone. He couldn't contain himself any longer, and as the last shreds of sanity and strength left him, his seed spilled into Konan's awaiting womanhood. He collapsed on top of her, breathing raggedly. Konan's soft palms wrapped around his sweaty back, massaging the muscles, asking for more. He smiled apologetically at her and shook his head before turning over onto his back, laying next to her. She snuggled up to his side, burrowing her nose against his damp pectoral. As their breathing calmed, bodies cooled, and the heat of the moment faded altogether, the comrades-turned-friends-turned-lovebirds-turned-lovers dozed together for a few moments, trying to rest. Just as Kisame and Itachi decided to check on all the commotion. The knocking at the door was enough to make Nagato pissed in all of about 1/5 of a second. He snatched his cloak, threw it over Konan, and stormed to the door.
"Nagato-sama! Hey! Everything alright? There's blood all over the hallway. Itachi-san he isn't answering." Kisame's voice chattered outside the closed door. A silent pause followed.
"What do you mean 'He's busy?' There's blood everywhere! What if he's bleeding out, Itachi-san!" Kisame had a heart as big as his sword, though he never liked to show it. A S-Rank criminal shinobi typically liked to torture, never cared, loved to kill. Kisame was a bit different, ever since he met some girl in a market somewhere. A silent pause. Nagato got tired of their bickering and threw the door open inward, standing there completely barren.
"Nagato-sama we got worried and—Uh Nagato-sama?" Kisame's face twisted into confusion as he realized his leader was before him completely lacking clothes. Itachi was suddenly glad to have blurred vision.
"We wanted to make sure you were alright…Uh…We heard screaming, and there was blood and— " Itachi slapped a hand over his partner's face, then one over his own, and turned them both away and started walking.
"Thank you, Itachi-san." He growled, only to receive a shrug of a shoulder. Konan sat up from under the cloak, chuckling a bit.
"I think he noticed me."
"Lucky for us, Itachi isn't much for words." Nagato walked over to Konan and scooped her off the bed.
"Where we goin'?" she inquired childishly, twirling a curl of his hair around her index finger.
"I was thinking my private hot springs. I think I could use a bath."
"I can help with that." Konan giggled, pulling herself up to his face to kiss his cheek. After all that had happened, the gentle kiss made his face flush pink. He kicked open the door to his private baths, and the new couple disappeared into the soothing water.