In Wait
Jiraiya/Orochimaru
Rating: PG-13 for bad words
Word Count: 480
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made, don't sue.
Jiraiya pulled his jacket closer around him; the silence seemed to make the cold colder than it was. Mist lit on his hair, touched his lips, and was starting to collect on his cigarette.
It was like a graveyard.
Icy gray waves lapped against the bone-yard beach, barely making a sound, just a continuous whisper that didn't feel alive at all. His eyes kept scanning the waves, idly wondering where their client was, what was taking so bloody long; he was freezing out here, and not from the cold.
He sucked on the thin cylinder between his lips for the heat and taste it brought, wishing he'd had time to get some actual coffee in him before getting up at this ungodly hour to wait. Tsunade had gotten to sleep in; why not him? Just because she was a girl didn't make her any weaker, she could take this, and he could've still been sleeping in the warm.
"That's disgusting."
Jiraiya grunted.
The tree bark looked a little like the gashes on a cheese grater, and not a pleasant thing to lean against, much less sit in. Still, Orochimaru looked perfectly comfortable in it; he probably had scales instead of skin covering his skinny body. Jiraiya didn't care--the boy was crummy company, but in the pre-dawn light he was better than nothing. Not as good as his cigarette, but better than nothing.
"As gross as the amount of gel you put in your hair?" Jiraiya asked, blowing smoke out his nose like a dragon.
"You're destroying your own body. I imagine it's hard to care for something so futile, but it's still a stupid idea."
Jiraiya ground his teeth. It was too early to fight. It was too early to be alive, so it was much too early to fight. He didn't say a word; didn't even spare him a glance.
"If you're trying to kill yourself," Orochimaru continued, because when the habit struck him he could listen to himself talk for hours. "There are cleaner methods."
"Shove it, ass hole," Jiraiya said, because he'd never really gotten a good grip on pacifism.
"If I were to destroy anything," Orochimaru kept on, with Jiraiya wondering if maybe Tsunade had drugged him to be extra annoying today. "I wouldn't even leave a trace."
"I notice I'm still in one piece."
"Don't worry," and it was creepy when Orochimaru smiled, it made the skin on his arms crawl. He'd known the guy for a little over three years, and he never stopped being creepy--it had only gotten worse as he got older. "When I kill you, no one will ever know."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it," Orochimaru turned his eyes--strange eyes, creepy eyes, light yellow and black--towards the fogged-up horizon again, searching. "You won't have to wait long."
"You really are a spooky son of a bitch, you know that?"
