A/N: OroKimi, because I felt like it. Yay? I like what I did with some parts in here, but the overall style still seems very choppy. I'll have to see if I can fix that some other time. Feedback welcome.
Originally posted at the orokimi LiveJournal community.
Warnings: Slash, implied sexual situations, disturbing imagery. I'm honestly stuck between the "T" and "M" borderling, but I'll rate it "M" just to be safe.
Constriction
It had never occurred to Kimimaro that he should feel threatened by Orochimaru. As far as he knew, he never even lived before he met the older man, and he was nothing but genius - not a monster, nor some abomination that deserved his fear. He respected the former Sannin above anything else, even his teammates. He saw nothing wrong with giving a curt glare or a deep wound whenever Sakon or Tayuya mentioned to utter some slight against him; in his mind, it was perfectly justified. On the other hand, he almost pitied them, because surely they said those things only because they were blind to his brilliance.
When he is with his master, he only speaks when spoken to - not because he's shy or terrified or anything else, but simply because he thought their relationship to be based on mutual benefit and understanding. He thinks nothing of it when skinny fingers trace his jaw, or when he arches back into the warmth radiating behind him. If Orochimaru wanted him, then he could very well have him - there was no problem to be had with that at all, and his words would be unnecessary then.
And there was nothing wrong with right now, sitting on Orochimaru's lap, an arm coiled around his waist. The dark room is completely silent, save for the sound of breathing; the room reeks of mold, but then again, so does most of Sound. They sit like that for a time before he feels hands firmly grab his shoulders and start kneading. Kimimaro lets out a relaxed sigh before leaning back into Orochimaru's chest, making no attempt to hide his enjoyment.
Eventually, Orochimaru brushes the Curse Seal with his finger, then traces circles around it. The sting sends jolts through Kimimaro's body; however, he continues looking straight ahead without even blinking. The snakelike man gives a sound of approval and leans forward, hands slipping to the younger boy's chest; Kimimaro looks down to observe the alabaster-on-quartz only to have a black curtain of hair fall across his eyes.
He knows that he is completely vulnerable, but does not worry. He hears a whisper of "show me", and tries not to smile.
With an adept hand, Kimimaro touches his right arm. Immediately, his skin parts to show the landscape of muscle and bone beneath; he takes great care in pulling the humerus out and clutches it in his left hand like a trophy. When the skin closes up again, Orochimaru's hand suddenly grabs what used to be part of a sturdy structure and rubs it up and down.
To anybody else, it would probably be grotesque. To Kimimaro, it was almost routine. The snakelike nin squeezes and twists the boneless segment as if it's some sort of toy. "Perfect," he whispers, and Kimimaro only concentrates on the way his own blood pulses in sync with Orochimaru's heartbeat.
The curtain before his eyes turns to messy strands, and he feels hot breath on the back of his head. "Kaguya Kimimaro...how could you not be the solution?" he hears him hiss, and the bone is knocked out of his hand. Orochimaru clutches him closer and giggles, his right hand traveling up the remains of Kimimaro's arm to tweak with his fingers.
"I don't know," he replies with arrogance, and gets a sudden vision: a cobra, wrapping around him, spitting truths and compliments while he suffocates...
For once, he shivers.
"Kimimaro, are you cold?" Orochimaru presses his cheek against the side of Kimimaro's head and nips at his ear, quickly running the tip of his tongue over its shell.
It is a tease, and Kimimaro knows it, but he replies, "No, Orochimaru-sama," because he is a respectful man who remembers his courtesies. In his mind, the vision refuses to leave, and he finds that he can replace the cobra with something else quite easily – but that is a paradise for another time. He has heaven right now.