Disclaimer: Masashi Kishimoto owns rights to Naruto. These are merely my ideas and my thirst for Yaoi in a world that needs more of it.
Accepts: Reviews, Flames (for my marshmallows), Suggestions, and etc.
Warnings: Yaoi (male/male relationships); Adult themes.
Author's Note: [R-Rated] Revised, edited, and expanded for your reading pleasure.
Trace Of Obsession [Manipulation]:
"It's a bad obsession, and you're always messin' up my mind..."
[Uchiha Sasuke x Orochimaru Yaoi FanFiction]
Shadows parade across the walls, dancing away from the gentle burn of candles lit around the room. Dark creatures form in the blackness, shapeless and deformed characters acting out frightening scenes along the walls. Each mindless shift of movement unto the demand of those flickering candles leaving an eerie message in their own distinct language.
In observation of the blackened dance of phantoms and perhaps lingering souls haunting in their unspoken revenge, amber hues glare silently while waiting patiently. Sitting partly beneath black sheets, leaning a painfully curved back against the headboard, the owner of those special hues grips tightly at the covers with pallid hands. The time grows near, the time when seemingly unnoticeable footsteps will journey towards the serpent's chambers and carry out an act that should have only been an one time affair.
Anticipation, twisting with resistant fear, causes shivers to course up the pale spine hidden underneath simple purple pajamas with white snake patterns.
"Ten minutes to go," the patient man thinks wordlessly, while lifting a trembling hand to trail through long ebony locks. As the months drift by he grows weaker and more vulnerable, which he knows the one coming for him is quite aware of. Eyes like a serpent's jerk towards the door suddenly, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as a small rodent squeaks and scurries away in terror.
Five more minutes.
A raspy cough breaks free of the silence, an agonized sound as the action squeezes painfully at the deceiving form of a stolen body. Soon the masked vessel would completely reject its demanding possessor. It is only a matter of time...which continues to slowly run out.
Two more minutes.
Would death be arriving this night, or something sensually agonizing? Inside the fully knowledgeable mind, there is no doubt which will be coming to greet him...just like the previous visit and all those prior. It has become a gripping routine, a pattern that should be destroyed yet he refuses to admit he has no control over what happens.
Merely a single lasting minute remains, and the telltale signs of his emotionless visitor will appear. By now the constant scenario is probably no more than a compelling game, a battle already lost for dominance. A means of leaving the scars of a reminder etched within his sickly form of just who will surpass him, and who holds the true seeds of control between them. It is simply an act of relieving frustration and pent up aggression in the most vacantly passionate of interactions between two starved and needy individuals. But something so bluntly enticing, so properly resisted against, should have never happened. Yet, once those swirling crimson hues settle on a course of proceedings there is no escaping them until their owner is pompously satisfied.
Glancing up towards the clock, serpentine golden orbs follow the quiet ticking of the hand on the clock's face:
Three, two...one.
In an instance everything freezes in utter silence. Nothing moves, nothing disrupts the sudden lack of sound, even the beat of his heart can no longer be heard in the deaf atmosphere. Along the walls the shadows have ceased in their black parade to turn their attention towards the door, their shapeless bodies fusing together in one massive collection of ebony. Nearby an once dancing and flickering candle fizzles out by the breeze of an unseen or felt wind; one obviously housing an ominous property.
The snake master gazes intently as the clock hand switches to fifteen minutes after midnight. Breaking the silence the man sighs out in relief, or exasperation, he would never admit to because of his pride. After all the waiting and irritating anticipation, the one he waits for dares to be late and perhaps to be blatantly abandoning him. Why should he be bothered though? These visits were not of his choosing, nor did he draw much pleasure from it. In those demeaning eyes he is no more than a trapped body, struggling against a raven yet only to amuse and satisfy the other even more than if he plainly laid back submissively.
It is merely a reminder of the game he is losing in humiliation. No amount of tricks and clever words could release him from the binds of those powerful hands, trained and ready by his own efforts. If this body would only agree to serve him without trouble then he would be able to fight properly against those damnable advances, yet things were already progressing too quickly in opposition to him. Whether he could stand to bite back his own frustrations and confess to it or continue to deny it, the serpent's body has already revealed far too much. Every forceful caress, narrowed demand from those crimson hues or sadistic whispered authority from those taunting lips, already has him succumbing to the selfish desires of the raven devouring him night after night. It should end, yet—
"Hebi-chan..."
The serpent's pallid form curls tighter in annoyance upon hearing the degrading nickname, another detestable quirk to remind him who dominates over him in these private moments. Lifting his amber hues in a threatening glare, the weak form of the sickly man maneuvers into a straighter position against the headboard in an expert mask of the bodily aches burning at his muscles. Aches from the dire need to switch hosts isn't the only pain holding him bound to the bed at the moment because another, lesser known discomfort, persists from the violence of the night before—or early morning rather—when this smug bastard before him manifested to pin him down.
In response to the murderous look being directed towards him, the raven smirks at his prey and crosses the room to seat himself on the serpent's bed. Underneath he can easily feel the sudden tremble seemingly masked by the serpent, then the movement stills abruptly leaving him grinning wider in acknowledgment. Could it be anticipation or fear? Either way, Sasuke could not help feeling eager to torment the serpent inches from him because doing so has become quite the sadistic fascination. He simply couldn't stop yearning to see those twisted features betray Orochimaru's normal sense of control in a moment of ecstasy. The thrill was nearly the greatest revenge.
Besides, even if he loathes the man with a sickening passion, there is something to be appreciated about that pale form. From those silken locks so easily yanked and twisted in his grasp to those glowing amber hues transformed into spears of glinting malice and deception, he has begun to get addicted and possibly possessive. He cannot get enough of marring the natural beauty of the man's effeminate body, so flawless and so tempting until his hands had their way. It would be his greatest pleasure to break the pale serpent, to murder the intensity in those dangerous orbs, yet as long as he can still use Orochimaru...destroying him would have to wait. In the mean time just sampling all the quirks of abusing the vulnerability in this stolen body would have to do in sating his urges.
Reaching out with powerful hands, snow white wrists are bound and seized to be pinned on the bed without further time being wasted. The raven already sacrificed five extra minutes to trifle with the serpent's mind as a cruel joke. Obviously he knows the other will wait up for him, even yearn for him unconsciously, and then bluntly deny it all for the sake of pride. However, the greatest triumph comes in the unexpected; in occasionally changing the normal routine of arriving at exactly ten after midnight to give Orochimaru the slight hope, and unspoken disappointment, in believing that he may escape his clutches for one night.
Seeing those undone expressions on the serpent's unguarded features under his ministrations were truly beginning to provide him with the insight for reading into the suppressed truths hiding behind all those clever lies. Orochimaru could actually be partially bi-polar when it comes to submitting to his innermost desires; though this is only witnessed when the serpent loses control in a situation to a most hated individual and thus reduced to complaining in savagely biting remarks while he bides away the time until an appropriately vengeful idea seizes that scheming mind.
Nevertheless, he is the only one who will ever witness such a phenomenon because he is the matchless individual that the serpent will never admit to desiring beyond seeking his body for his unique eyes. The bi-polar tendency only arises because Orochimaru hates to be dominated by him, by his crimson hues, and unable to have any grounding in the situation. All control belongs to the raven alone yet Orochimaru craves the lack of ascendancy like a forbidden fruit, or muddled weakness renouncing to linger disregarded.
Just as the serpent quivers at the reminder of his Sharingan eyes, the raven will also make him tremble at the relapse of secret cravings fighting to be unchained. Once this body and mind are broken, for the sake of reducing it to mere carnal desires, there will be no reason to be cautious of what lies in store in their future showdown; for he will have already made Orochimaru dependent upon him completely. His pitiful 'Hebi-chan' might even succumb to loving him. Then there will be no turning back, because in that instant he will have triumphed in the ingenious mental chess game between them.
Widely grinning down at his restrained glowering beauty, Sasuke leans down mere inches from that twisted mouth housing that deceptive tongue. Parting his lips, the raven trails a demanding tongue across the defiant curves in an unspoken dare for the serpent to bite him. Pearly white fangs are bared in warning but no painful nip or cunning retort comes in answer to his tasting of soon to be captured lips.
Orochimaru is becoming more tame as time goes by, which is quite amusing in fact when inside he knows that indulgent mind is absolutely scheming hopeless revenge. How true to the serpent's character even if pointless.
"You're fooling no one, Hebi-chan, or is this sought out revenge because I made you wait? ...Don't worry, I won't make you wait any longer," he whispers tauntingly while redirecting his focus to slowly lick at the man's neck.
The slender body pinned beneath his ministrations immediately jerks in response; a smirk gracing his features as he watches the white fangs biting at pale lips out the corner of his eye. He knows all the weaknesses of his troublesome snake which is why he doubles his efforts and simply bites down on the flesh of that pallid neck causing the other man to arch into him. He can see the man's fists clenching tightly at the black lace sheets around him; craving to resist the feeling of pain he cannot escape from so calmly in a situation like this. And yet, the raven finds it utterly ironic that of all places the man's neck is his most vulnerable spot.
Chuckling smoothly at the thought, he continues marking the flesh gradually bruising under the intensity of his efforts to tear the skin with his teeth. All the while he is gazing attentively at the withering snake trying fruitlessly to both curve into him and away from him at the same time. It amuses him to no end that the serpent will struggle against him and deny finding enjoyment in his actions to the very last moment. Yet, as he continues to monitor the other, a pale hand reaches out to him and settles on the cursed seal decorating and binding him to this devious serpent.
In an instant the raven is pausing to tense briefly as that daring appendage begins to trail unnaturally gentle fingertips along the expanse of the design carefully. He waits solemnly, just curious enough to witness what the serpentine man might attempt to do by carrying out such a meaningful act. Then he hears the velvety smooth voice of the elder man murmuring to him, coaxing him to become much like the monster laying below him. "Use it," Orochimaru drawls purposefully, as auric hues fixate their gaze on him in wordless encouragement. "Why hold back, Sasuke-kun? Aren't you in control here?" The serpent carries on while leaning up daringly into his body and settling his arms around the raven's neck, "Show me what you are really capable of."
Cursing wordlessly within the safety of his own mind, the raven yanks the serpent's arms from off his neck to re-pin them to the surface of the bed. He should have known that his teacher would endeavor to provoke him in such a blatantly obvious fashion. The cursed seal is the one lingering abomination binding him to the ex-Sannin; the sole reminder that he cannot pretend he is utterly exempt from the serpent's manipulation. The time is approaching, is nearly within his clutches, when he will leave this macabre hideout and fulfill his true intentions; he merely needs to become a degree stronger and to refrain from allowing his obstinate fears to influence him any longer. Or—
—is this the inference viable behind the man's cleverly spoken words?
He smiles, masking the enjoyment in his next words, "Under one condition..." He coaxes with one final bite to the pallid neck before retreating to fixate ebony hues on the specimen in his grasp. Glowing amber meets his searching gaze as an answering smirk forms on the serpent's face. A rush of excitement courses down his spine in anticipation of what he predicts the elder man will say to him; for there is no doubt in his mind that Orochimaru will voluntarily seize the bait and give him exactly what he desires.
Even without having to utter the words, the serpent is shifting out of his ensnare to leisurely stand on the side of the bed in front of him. He allows every single movement, foreseeing what the clever man has in mind in the precise moment their eyes exchanged a glance. Nodding casually, he beckons the patiently waiting serpent to continue as he shifts into a seated position with an arm leaned on one raised knee.
"Go on, Sensei," Sasuke encourages mockingly, "I want you to teach me properly this time...or I won't be able to show you my other form."
This isn't the first time he has baited the serpent in this manner, yet the previous occasion resulted in a trip to the medical ward instead of a night of sexual gratification. But he has graduated from prior miscalculations and conditions are far different in the sheer fact that all the pieces for success are in his clutches; unlike originally when the serpent goaded him into losing his temper with one simple implication: Uchiha Itachi.
It didn't require much effort in the ex-Sannin's involvement to drive him over the edge, yet the vexing conversation transpired soon after he admitted defeat to a particularly exhausting challenge given to him by his teacher. Honestly the altercation that ensued preformed wonders for his overall mood but, if he has learned anything about Orochimaru in this entire time, it's to have patience and to not display any loss of control. He foolishly sacrificed his control and allowed the serpent to observe the weaknesses remaining in him. But—
—he has matured since then. The serpent shall be the only one bruised and battered this time around.
"Show me, Sensei," he drawls out in a suggestive tone; beckoning the man to comply to his desires again.
Serpentine auric hues meet blackened depths once more, as pale hands slowly rise to capture the fabric of his slim pajamas in a show of acceptance to the raven haired male's demands. In carefully selected maneuvers the serpent begins to move in a gentle sway as he gradually removes his shirt under the watchful gaze of his student. Inch by inch, piece by piece, the snake charmer dances to a beat their bodies have learned countless times in the safety of this room. There is no shyness to his gestures, nothing that would suggest he is unsure of himself in any fashion. He is confident, experienced, and daring those black hues to drink in the entirety of the sight eagerly.
Far too soon he is reaching the finale of his performance, and a calculating grin sweeps across his countenance as he grips the hem of his boxers. Patient fingertips brush across the fabric, drawing the young man's eyes to where he wants them, though he has no intention of proceeding further than this. Instead he pauses in his gentle sway to lure the raven into his ensnare with purposeful fingers just barely tugging at the remaining barrier protecting him from those greedy eyes.
"Sasuke-kun," he breathes seductively, earning a nod from the young man though black hues never rise from their position of observing the ministration of his fingertips. "What would you have me teach you?
A smile graces the raven's features at the man's daring words spoken to entice him. However, that is all the warning Orochimaru receives before the young man leisurely answers him, "Masturbate for me, Sensei. Show me how you do," he says plainly, glancing up for the effect then resuming his watchful gaze of those pallid fingertips.
Hissing out a satisfied purr, the snake charmer carefully removes his final layer of clothing and slithers over to the seated form on his bed. Knowing hands latch onto him at his advance, receiving him into a tight embrace as the raven drags him to situate himself on the young man's lap. The position confuses him for mere seconds until the other is shifting once more so he is facing away with his back against the raven's chest. Wild strands tickle his cheek as the young man leans his chin on his shoulder to peer down at his midsection.
"Go on, teach me, I can see everything perfectly like this," he whispers next to the serpent's ear; giving the appendage a meaningful nip.
The slightest tinge of a blush colors the elder man's skin in response, yet those hands are moving as instructed to grasp his manhood. Again he is hissing in a soft purr while slowly beginning to stroke his flesh in even ministrations. Jolts of pleasure tingle throughout his body at his actions, drawing a moan from his lips. As he continues to satisfy the aching need growing within him, the moans escalate in intensity as he leans further into the body clutching him from behind. Yet, it still isn't enough but he didn't dare beg; rather he allows his eyes to fall shut as he settles for the rhythm of his hand.
"Sensei," Sasuke murmurs to remind the man of his presence. "Don't hold back...there must be somewhere else you want to be touched as well?" The raven coaxes slyly, while moving his hands to grip the man's thighs and spread them wider. "Use your fingers...prepare yourself," he finishes.
Peeling his eyelids open slightly, amber hues shift down to glance between his legs in anticipation of what he must do next. Nodding simply, the serpent draws his hand up to his mouth to suck at his fingers; coating each one in a thick layer of saliva. Once content he has prepared enough, pale fingers are moving between his legs to the puckered hole of his entrance. Inhaling a sharp breath to relax himself, the serpent guides one finger inside himself. Soon he is thrusting the finger in and out in a slow rhythm before adding two more finger; one at a time. Small gasps escape him as he impales himself on his fingers in a wanton fashion.
"Sasuke-kun," He moans suddenly, while arching further against the body supporting him. "Use it; release the seal," Orochimaru purrs in a tantalizing tone; anticipating what the young man will do to him in that form with a pleased smirk.
Flashing an answering smirk of his own, Sasuke relinquishes a degree of his control to welcome the cursed seal to consume him with power. The pigmentation of his skin darkens gradually as the dark characters of the seal spread across his body and transform him. Messy raven locks lengthen, ebony seeping into the whites of his dark hues now gaining crimson color as his Sharingan eyes activate, as sharp claws and fangs grow in response to the force of the inhuman energy pulsating within him.
A drunken sigh escapes him as the surge of power eventually settles. He feels absolutely amazing, utterly alive and unstoppable. However, he isn't distracted for long before spiraling hues of crimson are fixating on the pale form in their grasp. Grinning wide in remembrance of the snake waiting patiently for him, the raven wastes no time in jerking the elder man away from his own pleasure to pin beneath him in record speed.
"Now, let's have some real fun, Sensei," he utters meaningfully, while shifting to remove his own garments.
A/N: You know you want to leave a delicious review. Yes, please. :D