/*/*/*/
He was having a bit of a problem. Well, it was his problem only until he managed to hold himself back. After that it would be Kakuzu's problem... But no... he really shouldn't...
So he had this thing for the scarred old bastard, he could admit it now. And yes, he had it for a while, cleverly hidden under all that resentment, anger, frustration and violence he otherwise felt when it came to him. What the thing actually was he still wasn't sure, but it was a mix of lust, the urge to prove himself, a deep want to get Kakuzu want him and something more profound he tried his best pretending didn't exist.
The tricky part of the whole mess was that it wasn't only Kakuzu's body he craved for. He could get that now, with the miser still out cold... Hidan already got as far as dragging the covers off him, to inspect, fondle and grope, and yes, prod and poke before chickening out and stopping all his actions.
Not that he wasn't fantasizing about going all the way. Hell, he kept imagining it, turning Kakuzu to his stomach, pushing those muscular thighs apart... But he wasn't into doing it to someone who wouldn't even know about it. It would be a hundred times better, for both of them, with Kakuzu awake and willing. He ignored the nagging thought that awake and willing pretty much eliminated each other in this case.
He would just need to convince Kakuzu of this new aspect they could have in their partnership. No reason why he would decline Hidan, right?
Sure he would, the realistic part of his brain supplied. Even if just to piss him off. Not to mention that the closest to sexual excitement he had even seen the bastard show was when he got thrilled by really large sums of money... and that wasn't sexy at all, no matter how you looked at it.
The easiest way would be to just to forget this newly found fascination, but how could he with no outlet for his tension? He couldn't think of anything else with the other man lying so close and vulnerable and unknowing of anything Hidan might do... He groaned, covering his face in his hands. Back to square one.
After a while he came up with a solution, such as it was. He dragged his chair close up to the bed and sometimes touching, but mostly just watching the other's naked body he jerked off. Throughout it he half dreaded, half hoped Kakuzu would wake. Would he be angry or shocked? Maybe he would be turned on and want to join in?
His breathing quickened at that thought. Yes, that was what he wanted - Kakuzu to open his eyes, to reach out and touch him. He would be dazed from the long days spent unconscious, but smart as he always was, would catch up with what was happening quickly. He would pull Hidan down on the bed, wrap his strong fingers around his length, and whisper "So you were here, taking care of me all the time? Let me return the favour..."
Or better yet, he would slid lower, to take him to his mouth, the priest's cock stretching that stitched face... he would push in deeper into the wet heat, fingers tracing the scars he recently developed a fascination with...
Hidan came with a loud and drawn-out groan which, unfortunately, failed to bring Kakuzu back from his coma. He remained sprawled in the chair, keeping his messy hand away from the rest of his body, eying his partner in disappointment.
"Tell me you dickhead," he growled "what do you want me to do to finally wake up? Don't think I won't fuck you if you don't stop this soon, because swear to Jashin, I will. I give you three more days, and that's it. After that, your ass is mine."
/*/*/*/
He couldn't recall most of his journey back home. He was shaking with traumatic fever, hunger and exhaustion, but he wasn't giving up. As Madara said - he survived the prison, the mental and physical tortures and the escape from Konoha. He was prepared to survive anything and everything life would throw at him at this point.
The only moment standing out from the general haziness was when he stopped at a small lake to wash himself and could take a look at his reflection in its surface for the first time.
His whole body and face were covered in dried, flaking blood. He scrubbed it off to reveal deep, mostly still open wounds. Still he hardly felt any pain when he prodded them, which he knew was a bad sign. Ignoring that, he did what he could to wash them clean. The healers of Takigakure could do their bloody best to get rid of the infections once he managed to get back.
The worst by all means was his face. The bizarre grin Madara had carved into his cheeks was so deep that if he pulled away the torn edges he could see his teeth through the wound. He looked like a monster. A creature of nightmare. He was hit by a wave of nausea so strong it made him kneel over in the shallow water. He remained unmoving, head bowed, taking deep breaths until he slowly got better.
It didn't matter how he looked, he told himself firmly. His appearance, morbid as it was, just proved what he went through and survived. No longer looking like a kid playing ninja, right, Madara? He certainly didn't feel like the young man of only a few weeks ago.
He forced himself to stand up and get going. His village was waiting for him, promising rest, cure for his pains, and the most important of all, answers to his questions.
The next days went on in a blur. He couldn't recall how he made it, but suddenly he was on ground he knew so well, stumbling amongst familiar trees, the rumble of the huge waterfall - the sound of home - becoming louder and louder with each unsteady step.
He didn't know what to expect. Shock at his appearance certainly. Bewilderment at hearing his stories of the might of the Hokage and horror for the pains he had to endure. Remorse from the elders for sending them off to certain death. Maybe even awe that he managed to escape that in the end.
What he wasn't prepared for was the group of elite ninjas who surrounded him even before he could enter the village. In the state he was in it took him some time to understand they didn't come to help, but to drag him off into a prison again and out of sight from the gawking passer-bys.
He thought they misunderstood something. That they simply didn't recognise him under all the wounds and makeshift bandages.
The truth only hit him when he was thrown down at the feet of one of the elders. The man shook his grey head, looking at him with thinly veiled anger.
"Kakuzu... we have expected so much better from you. Couldn't you at least died honourably like your comrades did? No, you had to crawl back like a maggot, letting everyone see your failure... What are we to do with you now?"
"What are you talking about Samui - sama?" he demanded. "You have no idea what I..."
"Oh I have the right idea," the elder interrupted. "We received reports of you - that you were taken captive after you failed. That you miraculously escaped. Tell me - what secrets have you spilled to save your miserable skin? Don't even try to lie son - I can't even begin to imagine what you might have traded to get Senju to let you run."
Cold fury swept over Kakuzu and settled in the pit of his stomach. His muscles strained, his instinct screaming at him to attack the old bastard. Outwardly however he remained calm.
"Take a good look at me, if you think they just let me go," he challenged. Keeping his movements slow and calm, so the group of elite ninjas now acting as his wardens wouldn't misunderstand it, he unwrapped the bandages from his face. The ender's glance jumped to the terrible would, before flickering away, obviously disgusted.
"So you say they broken you and let you run when you spilled all you could give?" he directed his question at the stone wall behind him.
"I wouldn't be alive if I had given them what they wanted! I stayed alive and escaped so I can bring you information and have my own questions answered..."
"The fact remains," he was ridden over by a newcomer - another damn elder- "that you managed to save your own skin when your comrades died. You should have died with them to make your failure forgivable. You should have taken your own life to ensure no intelligence could be coaxed from you. Don't think we will be so soft with you like Konoha was. You'll be sorely punished for your crimes."
Kakuzu didn't even try to reply to that. Ignoring the gnawing pain and fury that was growing in his guts hearing this treachery, he searched for the elder's eyes. Samui avoided his glance - it seemed he couldn't stomach to look at his face - but the other man looked back at him with cold, hard determination.
They knew he was telling the truth, Kakuzu realized. How they got the knowledge – were their group followed by another shinobi or if the leaders had spies in Konoha – it didn't make a difference. It only mattered that they knew it, but they wouldn't acknowledge it.
This way only a handful would ever know of the attack and that it failed because Hashirama Senju's power surpassed the wildest imagination, making the new village of the Leaf far superior to Takigakure. Obviously they were more than willing to keep that information secret at the cost of keeping Kakuzu shunned away - or at the cost of his life.
TBC
