D i s c l a i m e r : Nope, dun own it.

W a r n i n g : Yaoi, and unusual pairing that may offend some audience. Jiraiya X Orochimaru

This idea was inspired from this site, if you are interested, take a look.

http:rsw.fem.jp/roomorojira/lovelovesnake.htm

The pictures there are just amazing, I love Jap fanart! Now I'm hooked on this pairing as well (god, I'm such a whore...). Who knows what strange things will sprout next.

O n e

W a r m

A f t e rn o o n

It was a warm afternoon 40 or so years ago.

Margarine light faltered through the windows. The quietness echoed in the hollow corridor. Jiraiya lay on the tatami floor in his room, in the house of the Sandaime. Though he was not a direct descendant of the Hokage, he had lived there for as long as he could remember. The current Hokage was, after all, his instructor. His fellow team mates—Tsunade and Orochimaru lived there along side with him.

He tried to concentrate on the nin-jutsu tutorial book he held over his face, but his mind seemed to wander anywhere but. In the distance, he could hear the village children chanting nursery rhymes.

The paper sliding door glided open. A pair of pale feet ambled in.

Jiraiya didn't bother looking up. He knew who the visitor was anyway.

His company sat down behind him, he tilted his head backwards to see his face, only to have his head cushioned on the other's lap.

The boy leaned over Jiraiya's face. He saw a pair of golden eyes rooming on top of him.

"Get out of the way, you're blocking the light," he made a sad attempt of waving Orochimaru off with the book in his hand.

The raven hair boy chortled, "That's rich, coming from someone who reads lying down."

The light blonde haired boy growled but decided to argue no more; snuggled his head more comfortably into Orochimaru's kimono.

His pale fingers stroked Jiraiya's unruly tresses, while squeezing the wings of his nose with the other hand, preventing him from breathing. The lying boy didn't bother himself by knocking the wan hand off; instead, he chose to breathe through his mouth.

Orochimaru leaned in once more; long, silky hair tickling the tip of Jiraiya's nose. This time, he bent down lower; shuffling backwards a bit on his knees.

He pressed his thin lips again Jiraiya's.

------------Owari------------

A u r t h o r e s s ' s d r a b b l e :

Yes, it was meant to be short. Just let me convince myself that.