Incomplete

"Do you trust me, Kabuto?" Orochimaru smiled, a sweet smile. It was hollow, and Kabuto often wished he was as blind as Kimimaro, so he could believe in everything his master said. Life would be easier if he could trust in the savior of so many. But shutting off his mind was impossible, because Kabuto's entire existence was based upon trickery and deception. He didn't know how to function any other way, because he'd been doing it since he could remember.

"No." The reply was blunt and honest. The servant hid his face by bowing even deeper, hands rubbing against the cold, hard stone. He let his forehead touch the floor. The prolonged silence sent his heart skipping with dread, and against his will his fingers began to shake. Nails grated against rock.

These dark moments together, late at night, were essential, despite it all. Kabuto felt like a masochist, sometimes, when he enjoyed the feel of the wires that often sliced into his skin, the poison that slipped through his veins. But in the end, he didn't really care if he was a masochist. He didn't care if he enjoyed it. All he cared about was earning the satisfaction he desired. But wasn't Kabuto always that way? The means were not relevant to the overall goal, and even the goal didn't matter, in the end.

"Do you need me?" The tone was amused.

A sharp gasp for air. Kabuto hadn't realized he had stopped breathing. Another silence, a silence that swelled and filled the room with tension. "Yes," he finally whispered. Resisting the urge to shift backwards at the sound of nearing footsteps, he tensed. There was a slithering sound behind him, and he gritted his teeth as he noticed a hazy shape moving beyond the view of his glasses.

"What--" he stopped himself. Orochimaru grasped his hair, forcing the servant to look up into his master's face. Swallowing, Kabuto twisted his lips into something kind of like a grin.

Orochimaru examined him with pitying eyes. "I guess that's what matters."

Kabuto believed that Orochimaru felt something for all of them, a tiny bit of protectiveness, a hint of appreciation. Orochimaru had a savior syndrome. But that just made Kabuto desire the other man's attention even more desperately, because he needed to be saved.

His glasses slipped off his eyes, stolen by ghostly hands. The room was blurry now, and he blinked and squinted in a useless attempt to see what was going on. A shudder shook his body as something reptilian slid past his legs.

Orochimaru released his grip on Kabuto's hair. "Don't worry, Kabuto-kun, if you're calm, everything will be fine." Thumb stroking Kabuto's chin, he shrugged and set the glasses on a nearby stand.

A gray snake slithered up his arm, and its tongue licked at his chin as it coiled around his body. With a small intake of breath the medic-nin tensed, noting his hands begin to sweat. He'd seen this creature before, slipping through the halls. It was long, and as it's grip tightened, Kabuto could not help but shudder.

"Meet my Black Mamba. She may not seem like much, but she's one of the most venomous snakes in existence."

Lips twisting into a smirk, Kabuto gritted his teeth and stared proudly into Orochimaru's eyes. "I can play this game." So many games occupied them, amused Orochimaru. Kabuto liked them, because every time, he got a chance prove his worth. Even though they terrified him sometimes, he knew what the rules were, and he knew what actions would make his master happy.

"Can you now? One false move, and you'll die."

"Very well."

Teeth shining in the hollow light, Orochimaru began his interrogation. "You're not brainwashed, like Kimimaro-kun. You're not scared of yourself, like Juugo-kun. You're not scared of me, like so many. Why do you follow me, Kabuto?" Orochimaru's shape was more dark and ominous when he could barely make it out, and his tone of voice was less than pleasant. But at least amusement was better than anger, or disappointment.

Or pain.

Looking upward, Kabuto tried to remain still despite the fact that his skin crawled with discomfort. "...Because I want to." The medic-nin sucked in a mouthful of stale air.

The following pause was timed just right, and sometimes, Kabuto thought that Orochimaru was an ever better trickster than himself. "How delightful, my darling. Why is that?" The candle next to his glasses was flickering, its glow growing dim.

Heavy breathing. Sweat trickled down his forehead. The snake hissed, its coils tightening around his body.

"Well," he whispered, voice dry and brittle, "you're the only one who's ever needed me." Me as myself. Not me as somebody else. That distinction is important.

"It's nice to feel useful." The statement was too simple. It was an understatement.

Kabuto stretched a smile over clenched teeth. "Yes." Balling his fists, he drug his nails through his flesh. More than just a nice feeling. No, this feeling inside of him tugged and twisted at his heart, until he couldn't help himself, and every move he made...he made for him.

"You know that I use you. The others aren't so aware. But you are." There was a rustle of clothing, and Kabuto knew what was coming next.

"You can keep using me." All I ask is that you don't throw me away.

Opening his mouth, Kabuto ran his tongue over the other man's exposed member. Hesitantly, he sucked on the tip, and trembling slightly, he took more into his mouth. The snake adjusted itself, tail end sliding underneath his legs and binding him in his kneeling position. Sucking gently, he tried his best to prevent his teeth from dragging against tender flesh. His knees were beginning to ache, and his joints were begging for him to adjust his position. Releasing his fists, he started as his fingers slid over scaly skin. The touch sent his heart skipping faster with fear.

Orochimaru clutched onto gray locks again, and Kabuto's eyes widened in surprise from the unexpected pain. Glancing upwards, Kabuto wished he could see more than a blurry face. The other man's panting was his only assurance of his success or failure.

The medic-nin's mouth was beginning to ache, and as his tongue tasted pre-cum he felt a tint of relief. White teeth pressed into his neck. His heart was pounding against his ribs. With renewed effort he moved his lips over pale skin, tongue working as best he could against the other's arousal. The teeth sunk a tiny bit more into his flesh, just enough. Not breaking the skin. It felt like an eternity had gone by, and Kabuto was beginning to shake too hard for his health. Teeth touched delicate skin. A tongue skated across tense flesh.

With a final moan the sannin came, fingers yanking and pulling on Kabuto's locks. Twitching at the taste and wincing at the pain, Kabuto released his hold. Shaking, now, uncontrollably, he managed to swollow. There was the sound of clothing being adjusted, and the mamba hissed. Its breath heated his flesh. For a moment, there was a silence, on edge and deadly.

Then the coils loosened. The teeth departed. And Kabuto shivered on the floor, resisting the urge to curl in on himself. Instead, he smiled, forcing himself to maintain as much dignity as he still posessed.

The snake disappeared into the darkness, and there was a moment labored breathing. For some reason, the silence behind it was eerie.

"I win."

A ghostly laugh. "That you do. Come here." Orochimaru motioned to him as he himself took a seat on his bed, hazy arm reaching out towards his servant.

Kabuto stood up, and, legs a bit uncertain, managed to make his way towards the gesturing figure. Slipping next to him, the medic-nin smiled, an unusual smile because it was neither crafty nor fake. White hands undid his pants, and he swallowed. Despite himself he was hardening at the touch of the other man's fingertips.

The gnarled fingers stroked his length, teasing him with their rough tough. Orochimaru chuckled, a hoarse sound. Up closer now, Kabuto could make out that pale face, those slanted eyes. With hesitation he moved closer, heart beating faster at every pull and stroke. The pleasure was sneaking up further into his body, blanking his mind. Destroying all the rational thoughts he was normally forced to organize.

Trembling lips pressed against cold ones, and Kabuto stared almost pleadingly into those amused, devilish eyes. Another kiss, another one. Tender things that the medic-nin would never dream of bestowing on anybody else.

Leaning onto the other man's shoulder, Kabuto grasped at open fabric with his fingers. With both hands he held onto his hellish savor, allowing his eyes to glaze, his mouth to remain open. His lips grew more and more parched with every gasp and moan that shook his trembling body. "Orochimaru-sama," he stuttered. I am utterly addicted to you.

Nails cut into his tender flesh, gentle and harsh at the same time. The delicate mix of pleasure and pain excited him further, and he felt himself nearing climax. Overcoming hesitation, he looked downwards, and watched a blurry hand pump his shaft. He was unabashedly gasping now, and heat was rising to his cheeks. An explosion of feeling, yet so bitter and raw in his chest. He collapsed onto Orochimaru's chest, hands groping further behind his master's back.

A hand spun through his sweaty hair, moving down his jaw line, feeling his cheeks. The touch was electrifying. It fed his endless pit of need, even for just a little while. "You need me, don't you?"

He answered the obvious response, and he knew that the other man knew the answer before it left his lips. "Yes." Let me stay, awhile. For some reason, he had to say it anyway. It entombed him in this dark chamber, forever.

"You can go."

Unwillingly, Kabuto tensed. His lab beckoned him, grinning eerily, and his bed called, small and empty among the remains of the tortured. Sometimes, Kabuto felt more affinity with things dead than alive.

"...You don't cry when you're about to die. But you cry when I tell you to leave." The fingers were strangely gentle as they cupped his cheek.

"Excuse me for my weakness." Kabuto disentangled himself awkwardly and stood, ashamedly tying his pants. He fumbled over the unseen strings. Moving toward the vague shape of the table, he shoved his glasses over his eyes. His index finger paused on the familiar bend in his nose, and his other hand pressed against his forehead, shielding his face.

"No." That crooked smile was softer somehow, and Kabuto allowed himself to be tricked. "I think I made a better choice than I originally thought."

He had never needed anybody before, no friends, no countrymen, no nothing. Not knowing who you are or what you are fighting for has it's advantages, but he had realized that too late. Before he thought that the rush of satisfaction at every betrayal, at every death, would be enough. This was a need that tugged at his latent heart, groped his mind, teased his thoughts. And it was a need that would never be fully satisfied.

Slipping from the chambers, Kabuto hurried to his lab, shutting the door and crawling into his chair. A body lay open on the table, chest bared and bloody. Her eyes were blank. So, so blank. He leaned his elbows against the table, a tiny smile hovering on his lips. "Hey, baby. You look as complete as I do, don't you?" Examining his charge, he shrugged. "Yeah, about."

Dead eyes stared at the ceiling, and limp hands were palms-up, begging for salvation.