It's been years! Here's a wonderful crackfic between me and my fav rp partner of all time. (guess who is who, I dare you) I just rp, she does the editing and making it all readable and stuffs. All suggestions and crits welcome cause… We honestly have no idea where it may end up. Heads up warning, there will be MxM, cussing, nudity and violence.
That said! Please enjoy crackfic! Collab between a Sexy as all Hell Brit and one Crazy Ass South African.
~.~
Quiet. Something Kisame hadn't been able to indulge in for a while. Blessed quiet.
He sat back in the plush sofa of the HQ common room, an array of smaller blades laid out before him on the pitted and cracked coffee table (often to be seen with at least one blade slammed down into it point first, especially when tempers had gotten heated - a common occurrence in their group.)
Kisame doesn't use his other blades all that often - he prefers the Samehada, after all - but it couldn't hurt to have them about his person just in case. And the act of sharpening them was somewhat meditative, especially after a long and fairly fraught mission. With a deep felt sigh, he put one blade down, picked up the next and began the process of sharpening it against the whet-stone with quiet and careful motions, letting his mind drift.
Unfortunately Kisame wasn't going to be able to keep his peace and quiet for much longer, if the muttered cursing and slow squelching sound of something being dragged along the floor was any indication.
Eventually that horrifying sound ended as a blood streaked dust covered missing nin rounded the corner and glared at any and all occupants in the common room as though they were the soul reason for all the bullshit that had happened to him.
The strange noises turned out to have been made by Hidan dragging his own arm behind him.
He contemplated Kisame with narrowed purple eyes, he was quite obviously pissed off. He'd never really spoken with Kisame before, they never really had reason to, but since he seemed to be the only one here…
"Where the fuck is Deidara?"
Well that answered the question of why Hidan was in his current predicament.
Kisame - at first - didn't allow the squelching and slithering and stomping to penetrate his hard-won calm. But upon Hidan's actual entrance into the room, the smell of wet earth, blood and .. whatever else that smell was (he has a sensitive nose, sue him) made him look up with a dark expression.
He eyed Hidan with disdain at having his quiet solitude interrupted. The man looked an absolute mess - which was quite something, Kisame hadn't seen him around much, but when he did he was usually quite impeccably turned out.
"He's not here," he grunted, "Whatever he did to piss you off - " and here he paused to raise a brow at the fairly obvious answer to that - "I suggest you either go look for him or sit down and shut up and wait for him."
Aaaaaaaaaaaaand Hidan was just going to take that as an invitation to rant and rave, something he was pretty good at doing.
"He fucking blew my arm off, that's what he fucking did! I swear if he leaves those fucking spider, birds, whatever's just fucking lying around I'm not even going to give him the fucking honour of fucking sacrificing him, I'm just going to slice that fucking blonde pansy to pieces and be done!"
Barely taking a breath, he stomped in and dropped his blown off arm onto Kisame's blades. What? It was convenient and he didn't want to be the only one having a bad day.
"Where the fuck is Kakuzu? I swear to Jashin, that zombie is never fucking around when you need him, seriously."
Kisame, for the most part, ignored Hidan's ranting, right up until the severed arm landed right in the middle of the coffee table, scattering not only his blades - that had been nice a neatly lined up according to his own system - but also his thoughts.
"Hidan! Why?! Why would you - you know what, I don't care. Get that off my table. I just cleaned these fucking things..."
And of course, then the ranting actually penetrated his senses and he rolled his eyes, "You'll have a lot more to deal with than just his kami-forsaken clay bombs if you DO try killing him, and you know it. And I have no idea where anyone is, I was minding my own fucking business."
He pushed the arm delicately across the table with the point of the blade he was holding, hoping to push it right off the edge and onto the floor where it belonged.
"Don't you fucking dare!"
Hidan swiped up his poor left arm and shoved it in Kisame's face, "Didn't your mother fucking teach you any manners? Don't just shove bits of people on to the floor you fucking asshole!"
Completely ignoring Kisame's obvious wish to not have anything to do with him, Hidan dropped one muddy boot on the table, scattering more of the once neatly lined equipment, "I can be anywhere I want to be and kill anyone I fucking want to, ok? Now where the fuck is Kakuzu, my arm is itching like crazy, it's faster to have thousand year old crazy sew it up... Or I can just wave it in your face all day, at least it gets your fucking attention."
Hidan grinned, teeth glinting, as he tried to poke the detached arms finger in Kisame's face.
Kisame grunted, putting his hands up in the universal gesture of 'fucking back off' as Hidan grabbed for his severed arm and began waving it about at him.
"My mother taught me to keep trash in the trash can - and if you keep waving that fucking thing in my face, that is exactly where I am going to put it."
He grimaced as Hidan lifted his leg and placed a boot on the table, further scattering his hard work. Fucking kami-damned immortal asshole. As the severed arm's finger waved closer to his face, he grabbed it and yanked, jerking the arm right out of Hidan's grip.
He made no move to actually throw it away though, content with just making his point.
"Get this fucking thing out of my face."
He threw the thing back at Hidan.
"I have no idea where Kakuzu is. If it'll shut you the hell up, here -" and he fished his own first aid kit and twine out of the pouch by his feet.
Well... That shut Hidan up, he was really just looking to piss someone off and Kisame? Kisame was in the wrong place at the wrong time. What he didn't expect was an actual offer of help.
"Well shit."
He eyed Kisame warily, what was he up to? The older shinobi couldn't possibly get anything out of attacking Hidan (except maybe self satisfaction) but he was having difficulty trusting anyone.
Occupational hazard, really.
"Huh."
But for the life of him, he couldn't think of a cool come back right that moment, so instead he dropped his boot back on the floor and after a heavy moment held up the stump of an arm in Kisame's direction, still standing by the table like a dolt.
Oh, that made the asshole shut up. He'd have to remember that wrong-footing Hidan did that.
Kisame hadn't actually meant to suggest that HE would sew Hidan back together, but, well, the kid was sort of looking a bit like a lost puppy or something now - for a given understanding of the 'lost puppy' look, Hidan was, of course, still covered in blood and debris and well known for his murderous impulses and so on.
So he rolled his eyes again and actually took the damn arm off the kid.
"For Kami's sake, Hidan."
He gestured to the empty spot on the sofa next to him, "Get over here so I can get this done for you."
He absently wondered if he could get Hidan to actually pick up the mess he'd created after this.
After slight resistance, Hidan let go of his arm and plonked his ass gingerly onto the sofa, at a fair enough distance, that he could still dodge if Kisame decided to bite or something.
Distrustful purple eyes followed the mans every move; gingerly sitting there, Hidan couldn't quite get over the bizarre situation, what the fuck was happening? The only reason he was being so obedient was because his mind was still not over the WHAT THE FUCK.
From close up, Hidan was not only dealing with a severed arm, he had burned skin well down his neck, and quite a bit around his chest too.
Although he was immortal, he stank of burned meat and he wasn't exactly immune to pain. Gingerly Hidan raised his stump of an arm again, it wasn't severed neatly, it had actually been blown off, so it wasn't going to be easy sewing it together again.
Up close and personal, Kisame's sense of smell was even further assaulted by the bloody, meaty, burned scent wafting from Hidan's body. Combined with the sweat and the smoke and the damp, as well as whatever that underlying scent was that he guessed was Hidan's own personal scent, it was a mess that had him snorting and wrinkling his nose.
There wasn't anything he could do about it, however, so he just grimaced and pushed the sensory annoyance to one side.
Smirking slightly at Hidan's obvious unease, Kisame pulled out the anti-septic wipes from his first aid kit, and - pushing aside the ruined fabric of Hidan's Akatsuki cloak - began to none-too-gently wipe down the burns and scrapes leading to his severed arm.
"Kami, do you actually feel all this?"
It was quite disgusting - and he had the horrible thought that Hidan, while immortal, still felt everything that happened to him. Kisame himself would be cursing himself a new shade of blue if he was this badly damaged.
Cue cursing.
Hidan cursed vehemently as the wipes swept over his burns, mainly because he hadn't really prepared himself for the fresh wave of pain, and the adrenaline had more or less worn off. Sweat broke out on Hidan's body, his face, pooling above his upper lip, on his temples and forehead, and he drained of almost all color. His breath caught as he felt his vision go for a split second, the pain was so intense.
Shuddering, Hidan almost curled into a ball, the pain so surprisingly crippling, "Jashin FUCK."
After another moment of cursing everything in the world for ever being born under his breath, he glared at Kisame, "Just get it fucking over with, I'm not gonna get fucking infected or something stupid, seriously."
His pain tolerance was pretty high though, so he recovered fairly quickly. But if Kisame was looking closely, Hidan's eyes had dilated in pain and shock and his breathing was definitely faster than before.
Turning away as if not looking would make it hurt less, he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like: "Fucking blonde."
As soon as Hidan reacted - and Kisame could tell the kid was trying to make himself not - Kisame paused. He noted the sudden pallor, the fresh sweat beading on the pale skin, the up-tick in his breathing. All signs that, yes, indeed; Hidan did feel fucking everything that happened to his body.
The cursing just cemented Kisame's understanding of the matter.
With another grimace, he pulled out a new wipe and this time, this time, he was far gentler. "You may be immortal, and be able to get over this shit without actually dying, but I think we would all prefer you not get sick."
He could just imagine the amount of whining the kid would indulge himself in, Jashin this and Jashin that.
He tried to be quicker, as well as a shit ton more gentle, wincing very time he saw even a hint of a wince in Hidan's features. When he was done cleaning, he picked up the severed arm and did his best to clean that as well - at least the arm wasn't attached and hopefully not relaying any pain to it's owner.
"I'll try to get this done as quick as I can," he said as he began to thread a sterile needle.
All this just because he wanted some peace and quiet. Fuck's sake.
Hidan gritted his teeth and stared straight ahead and tried to pretend his stump wasn't feeling like it was being cleaned with acid. Once the infinity of enduring passed and Kisame moved onto his severed arm, Hidan slumped backwards into the sofa, the pain in his arm receding into a more acceptable burning sensation.
Releasing the breath he was holding in a gush he turned slightly to study Kisame.
"Fuck."
He knew the man had been holding back, Hidan was perceptive enough to pick that up. Was the man a moron? Empathizing with Hidan wasn't just stupid but also a waste of time. At least he didn't seem to be about to strip Hidan and clean up the rest of the burns.
"Just get it fucking over with, seriously."
That had supposed to come out hardcore, instead Hidan's voice was hoarse and bone deep tired. He felt like he could sleep for years.
"Kakuzu never bothered with those fucking alcoholic wipes."
Kisame rolled his eyes again, "Just deal with it, kid. I'm not sewing this thing back on until I'm sure it's not going to turn into a festering lump that'll have you whining the whole team into submission."
He was trying to keep up his gruff exterior - but apparently the exhausted looking Hidan, slumping into the sofa and glaring feebly at him, had Kisame's voice threading with a hint of actual concern, despite his words. Despite his blood lust, his love of battle, his enjoyment in reducing his opponents to their barely recognisably human component parts, he did apparently still have a soft spot for his team mates.
"Right. I'm guessing this is going to hurt like a bitch. Hold it up for me – " He pressed the severed end of the arm to it's stump, directing Hidan to hold it in place for him with his good arm.
Hidan considered refusing but he just wanted this over right now.
"I don't fucking whine."
But like a good boy he lifted his stump of an arm, trying and failing not to tense up in anticipation of what is going to be a hell of a lot of pain. Screw Kisame, he wasn't going to give the blue fish man the satisfaction of cursing.
"Yeah you do, just own that shit already. You were whining your fucking head off when you came in."
Kisame tried to distract the kid as he went about the actual sewing in as buisnesslike a manner as he could, appreciating that he was probably sick of this already and just wanted it over with.
"You whine worse than Sasori does when he gets his puppets fucked with. Worse, even, than Deidara when he's feeling unappreciated."
It might have even worked if Hidan wasn't trying to stay conscious. He was unable to bite back a gasp when Kisame started sewing, but at least the man kept going.
Taking a breath and holding it, he felt cold sweat begin to gather along his scalp, between his shoulder blades as he shuddered again and again with each tug and pull of thread. Through that haze, Kisame's words tried to sink through but they weren't making much of an impact, instead Hidan settled for imagining all sorts of ways to kill Kisame.
Kisame kept a careful eye on Hidan as he sewed, talking non-stop and not pausing in the actual stitching. He might enjoy his job, enjoy fighting and battles and killing and stealing shit from those he ends - often in the messiest way he could think of, unless Itachi stepped in - but this prolonged torturous shit of a team mate just wasn't for him. To be honest, it was making him feel a little bit sick. And by the time he finished sewing the arm back to he stump, he was glad of it.
He tied the thread off neatly and used his only remaining clean blade to slice the thread close to the knot so it wouldn't catch on shit.
"Alright kid. Now, I take it you're not going to clean up this mess you made of my shit, so." He wadded up the used wipes and tossed them in the general direction of the trash can, then went about picking up his scattered blades, leaving Hidan to sit alone for a moment, unsure if the immortal was going to come raring back to his usual coarse self at any moment. Or if he'd stay there, listless and recovering for the rest of the afternoon.
Kisame might have felt sick, but Hidan's stomache was literally rolling.
Grunting in response when Hidan registered that Kisame had said something, the silver haired man groaned heartily as the nerves reconnected. Welcome back arm.
Instead of waiting a moment for the pain to subside, Hidan lifted the newly re-attached arm and flexed with a slight grimace. He couldn't help it, he didn't want to look like a weakling in front of Kisame. Although he had the horrible feeling the facade wasn't working with sharkman.
"Fuck, good as fucking new, seriouisly," Hidan grinned toothily at Kisame, "You'd make a good wife someday. Fuck."
He remained on the sofa a bit longer though, his body needed that at least.
Kisame paused only briefly in his collecting, in order to see how Hidan fared with the arm. When the kid obviously forced himself to lift and flex even as the wound remained, Kisame rolled his eyes. Kid was lucky as fuck to be immortal, seriously, especially with the amount of bravado he had in him.
Kisame grabbed the last of his blades just as Hidan spoke, narrowed his eyes briefly and then rolled them as he headed back to the sofa.
"You're welcome. As a suggestion? Don't fuck with Deidara's clay."
He pulled the whetstone back out and placed it to one side as he began to re-clean all the blood and grime Hidan had managed to get over everything.
No explosion? No angry come back? Did the Sharkman want to be a wife or something?
Putting his boots up on the table, not on the equipment per say but dangerously close, Hidan punched the air with the recovered arm, hating the feeling of cold blood slowly starting to move again.
"Who wants to fuck with that kid anyways? He leaves those fucking things fucking everywhere, fuck! I swear to Jashin, if he fucking leaves those things around again I'm going to shove them so far up his fucking ass he'll be fucking burping them out, seriously."
"Get your Kami-damned boots off the table, spreading Kami knows what everywhere AND all over my blades, fucking-"
Kisame let himself grumble, valiantly ignoring the pained winces Hidan made as he stretched and flexed his newly re-attached arm.
He could do with having his quiet back, but apparently the kid wanted to complain some more.
He snorted at the imagery of Deidara burping up clay bombs. "Just do it somewhere NOT HERE," he ordered a little gruffly as he cleaned off the last blade and waved it in Hidan's general direction, "I prefer this place not covered in Deidara parts, blood or clay."
He picked up the whetstone to go over the blades one more time, making sure each of them would meet his standards.
It wasn't so much that Hidan wanted to complain, he just needed a moment to recover, "Whatever, fuck, you're more whiny than that stupid blonde, are you on your fucking period? Seriously..."
Making a great show of taking his booted feet off the table and standing up with his hands up mockingly in defense, as though to say, 'hey I'm doing what you want so just chill, fuck,' Hidan grinned.
"I'll leave you to your fucking cleaning then, Darling, don't forget the laundry too while you're fucking at it."
Time to head back and get a shower, and a bath, oh man a bath would REALLY hit the spot right now.
Kisame scowled at the language and insinuations, rolled his eyes again - apparently that was going to become habit around Hidan if he didn't watch it - as the kid made a show of moving his feet and standing up.
He didn't respond immediately, simply eyed Hidan's arm, before huffing.
"That mouth of yours -" he cut himself off with a shake of his head though.
"Whatever. Go get clean, I think my nose shut down."
Hidan snorted, he had never thought that Kisame could be so... So... Girly?
"You're not going to run a fucking bath for me or something?" Hidan threw a parody of a leer in Kisame's direction, and then suddenly he laughed, not the manic I'm-gonna-kill-you laugh but one of genuine amusement "you're sure you're not fucking in love with me or something?"
Kisame smirked, "You're asking a Shinobi of the Mist if he'll run you a bath?"
He flexed one hand into three very quick and basic signs, something all children in Mist could do, and drew water from the air into a fist sized globe, let it hang in the air between them, "How about a short sharp shower?"
As the globe spun lazily it continued to grow, just as lazily, absorbing the water from the air of the room.
Hidan's mouth dropped open in horror, as he looked up at the glistening ball of water, "You wouldn't fucking dare."
Which all in all probably wasn't his best move.
Kisame's smirk grew into a very sharp shark toothed grin, "I dunno kid, you smell pretty fucking bad right now AND you mucked up my blades..."
With a quick flex of his fingers, Kisame dropped the - now skull sized - globe of water right on Hidan's head.
Hidan could have dodged, but he wouldn't have been able to dodge completely so instead he opted for taking the blow head on. He wouldn't admit, however, that the water actually felt like heaven on his skin, the skin that wasn't burnt that was.
For a moment he stood there glaring at Kisame, looking much like a drowned rat and then with a yell he grabbed some of the newly sharpened kunai and leapt across the room, giving him distance to throw.
"Fucking asshole! I can't believe you actually fucking dumped a ball of water on my fucking head!"
And three daggers in rapid succession went flying at Kisame.
There went any chance of Kisame getting some quiet time.
Kisame burst out laughing as soon as the kids expression went from shocked to pissed; drowned rat was rather apt, with his straggly silver hair and streaky soot and blood dripping down his pale skin.
Even as Hidan grabbed three of his blades and leapt away, Kisame continued to laugh, using barely there flicks of his fingers to block the blades with dense ropes of water, "You deserve it kid! You smell a damn sight better already!"
Quiet time be damned, an impromptu sparring match was just as relaxing. Kisame grinned and launched three more globes of water in quick succession.
Hell if he was going to just sit there and take it; running up the walls to avoid taking the hits, one still came close enough to wet the tail of his cloak. With a growl Hidan shrugged his right shoulder out of his cloak, throwing the ruined garment off, revealing burns across his chest and neck, although it wasn't as extensive as it could have been. Infact some of the lighter burns were already starting to peel and reveal new pink skin underneath, thanks to Hidan's insanely inhuman healing ability.
With a roll to avoid any other stupid water globes, Hidan glared at Kisame from behind one of the couches, "You're the one that's gonna have to fucking clean this up! "
This, this was actually fun. Kisame traced Hidan's chakra as he zipped about the room and apparently dropped behind the sofa.
"Who gives a fuck about cleaning!" Kisame laughed, launching an actual wave of water in Hidan's direction, soaking everything in its path, "I'll make Deidara clean up, it's his fault anyway!"
Now, should he actually break out the weapons? He'd just sewn the kid back together after all. Or should he stick with water? It was amusing seeing the kid soaked through and steaming.
Flipping the sofa up horizontally and laughing manically, the wave of water still managed to soak Hidan to the bone. It was obvious that Kisame wasn't actually trying to do any real damage.
Hidan spluttered for a moment when quite a bit of water got into his face, "Ha! Good luck trying to get that dumb blonde to clean up this fucking mess!"
Tossing the sofa in Kisame's direction, Hidan roared with laughter and followed through, jumping up and kicking the sofa to speed up the stupidly large thing.
Hopefully he could get at least one hit in. It would be embarrassing otherwise.
"I'll threaten his hair! He's a vain little thing!"
Kisame laughed again as the sofa suddenly went airborne, grinned as Hidan leapt after it, and braced himself. With barely even a twitch, barely a grunt of effort, Kisame caught the sofa and bounced it away in one fluid movement.
And then he caught Hidan.
The instant he was caught, Hidan froze.
First of all he wasn't quite sure what had happened; one minute he was flying after the sofa, feet first, grinning wildly, the next minute Kisame had effectively stepped back and not only avoided the kick, but caught Hidan midflight in a freaking Princess carry.
Eyes wide in abject confusion, Hidan found himself for a split second safely secured in strong arms with not a single idea of what to do in response…
Being Hidan however, his first instinct was of course violence.
With a growl Hidan's fist shot straight up.
Kisame was actually a little shocked at himself, while catching Hidan had been the plan, a princess carry not quite so much. But it amused him greatly and he burst out laughing at the incredulous look on Hidan's face - until the fist connected with his chin, however, snapping his head back sharply.
He dropped Hidan like a sack of potatoes, grunt of brief pain turning back into a laugh and a grin.
"I'm going to drown you for that, just so you know."
Rolling from the drop Hidan grinned, shaking his fist loose. Now that was a wonderfully satisfying punch.
Despite still not being at full power, this was a lot of fun, "I'd like to see you fucking try, you overgrown puffer fish."
Leaping backwards and safely out of reach, Hidan smirked at Kisame. Backed up against the wall he began to estimate how much further he had to go to reach the exit, "Pein is gonna get his panties in a fucking bunch if you flood his beloved Headquarters you know…"
"Puffer fish?!" Kisame took actual offense at that, bristling almost visibly. He was big and gruff and more than a little blood thirsty, but apparently insulting his appearance still hurt.
It was Hidan being an ass, though, so he pulled the grin back to his lips and flicked his hands through the symbols he needed, "I couldn't care less, I'm gonna make Deidara clean it up anyway!"
With a burst of chakra, Kisame leapt to the ceiling and called twin funnels of water to life, directing them both at Hidan with a grin and a laugh.
Putting his hands together in a seal, Hidan smirked, "Bring it on darling."
But before he could do anything else, there was an polite cough from the entrance to the room.
Hidan's eyes shot over to see the Uchiha surveying the current wreckage that was the common room.
No wonder he hadn't sensed a presence approaching!
Well that may also because he was too busy enjoying himself to notice anyone coming. Releasing the jutsu far too quickly, almost like an embarrassed genin caught in some stupid act, Hidan flushed and scowled at Kisame like it was all his fault.
Dark eyes flicked over Hidan after a brief pause and instead settled on Kisame.
"Kisame, what are you doing?"
Kisame, fully prepared for a fun sparring session, startled at the polite cough. He turned in time to see Itachi raise one elegant brow in his direction.
The funnels dissipated at once and he dropped to the floor with a penitent expression as he took in the utter devastation he and Hidan he wreaked of the common room.
He coughed, grinned down at his partner, "...Just... letting off some steam?"
Hidan straightened up with a tsk picking up his ruined cloak and looking at their handiwork with a touch of pride, "Big man Puffer fish is far too fucking tight arsed, you need to get him laid more fucking often."
He shrugged, as though Hidan wasn't the actual instigator of the entire event.
Although he had to admit, Kisame was nothing compared to Itachi when it came to being tight arsed. Flashing one last grin at the blue ninja, Hidan ducked behind Itachi and effectively retreated from the scene.
Itachi watched Hidan leave for a moment before turning to level his gaze at Kisame, crossing his arms and waiting for a more detailed explanation.
