He was standing off to the side, in the shadows, where he belonged. He bit back the slight twinge of useless jealously that rose as he watched the figure kneeling before his master. He didn't hate Kimimaro, he couldn't hate one Orochimaru loved. He couldn't hate a fellow, yet more vital cog in his master's machine. But he could feel jealousy, as much as he tried not to, and it burned in his throat like acid.
He tried not to feel too relieved when Kimimaro finally left. He was able to breathe a little freer, although it was impossible to tell just by watching him. He was a spy after all, a damn good one, and it didn't do to parade around his inner thoughts.
Orochimaru was silent in his chair, leaning into his fingers laid thoughtfully against his cheek. Kabuto maintained the silence, content to observe his master in peace. Besides, he'd learned long ago never the penalties of disturbing him when it wasn't absolutely necessary.
"Do you enjoy your free will, Kabuto?" The question leaked out into the dim room, echoing through the quiet.
This was not a new question. Kabuto answered it as he always had, with a simple, "Yes, sir."
The former Sannin turned his piercing gaze on his subordinate. "You wouldn't rather have a curse seal from me? You wouldn't rather let me live on in your body?"
There was silence again. Orochimaru knew the answers without having to ask. There had been a time when Kabuto had felt bitter at being passed up for the most honored gift his master could give him. But that had been long ago, and he truly had come to appreciate his so-called freedom. He'd seen the fate of enough test subjects to know how good he had it. But as for being Orochimaru's future body, it still hurt on occasion to think that he just wasn't good enough.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think that you enjoy causing your underlings pain, Orochimaru-sama," Kabuto ventured, pushing the line of sarcastic audacity he had recently discovered he could defy without repercussion.
"It's the least I can do for those who enjoy it," Orochimaru taunted. It was the first mention he'd made to that incident two weeks ago. He continued, "I only ask because I want you to know important you are to me, how I trust you enough to let you live as you do."
The boy took a step back into the shadows, uncomfortable. "Thank you, Orochimaru-sama."
"Those with free will have a chance to become traitors. They have a chance to run." Those golden eyes narrowed, like searchlights into the darkness, staring straight into Kabuto's soul. "But you stay. You stay here with a monster like me."
"It's Kimimaro that worships you, not me," Kabuto said with disgust. Inside, he hoped he hadn't stepped too far.
"Kimimaro is a fool, he only sees me as he wants to see me. As his savior. But you see me how I am, and yet you stay."
Kabuto said nothing; there was nothing to say. The silence solidified between them.
"Come before me, Kabuto. I don't like you in the shadows when I can only see the reflection of your glasses. It's eerie." A snake-like grin appeared on that pale face, more eerie than anything else in the room would ever be.
Kabuto obediently moved out into the candle light, kneeling before the chair. He grimaced as he felt the floor still warm where Kimimaro had been.
Orochimaru growled deep in his throat, "You know, Kabuto, there's no one else I'd rather have on their knees in front of me."
A small smile crept onto Kabuto's face, but he kept his head lowered.
"Look at me," Orochimaru commanded, stealing away Kabuto's short privacy.
"Your free will entices me, attracts me. Kimimaro could never hold my attention in the same way. And when it comes to you, there are far more interesting ways to take your body." A leer turned up the corner of his mouth, and he reach out to cup Kabuto's chin.
Kabuto felt heat rushing through his veins, pooling in his stomach and spreading lower. Orochimaru's fingers were shockingly cool, and he was pulled to his feet by that grip as his master stood.
He was pulled closer, and Orochimaru tilted his head up, drawing him into a surprisingly gentle kiss. It grew rougher as his hand slipped around to pull out the band that held Kabuto's hair up. The light hair fell forward to meet the dark, the strands mixing around their faces. Kabuto melted in his master's arms, under his master's touch, at his master's will.
Orochimaru's teeth suddenly bit down into Kabuto's bottom lip, cutting the flesh. The pain was a searing white light blocking out his vision, and he loved it. He moaned as Orochimaru proceeded to suck on the wound, teasing the open cuts roughly with his tongue, letting some blood dribble out between their lips.
Then he was released, and Kabuto instinctively ran his own tongue over the injury, tasting his blood and smiling. Then his heart stopped, sick hope and pessimistic doubt mixing violently with the lust in his belly—
Gracefully, gently, Orochimaru slid his glasses from his face.
There was only a few seconds for him to stare, transfixed, up at his master. Then, with a hoarse growl of "I like you best on your knees," Orochimaru threaded his fingers through his hair and pushed him roughly to the floor.