A/N Thanks to the people who reviewed the last chapter - you're keeping me motivated! This one and the last have borne the burden of having to move the plot on, but things should get more exciting from here! Kakuzu's dogs reveal their names! - they are Kaze, Kaminari, Tsuchi and Mizu after the elements of his mask creatures... only I took a bit of creative license with the last one... it probably should've been Hi, but that didn't seem like a good name for a dog... forgive me...
Very convenient for creative sex... That was probably Hidan's last coherent thought all evening. They hadn't been all that creative, he supposed, as he lay in an unfamiliar bed the next morning, pondering what had gone down. Not creative exactly - by that point they'd been too desperate for each other too mess around - but extremely thorough, Man, he was sore! He'd been fucked from behind, sideways, face to face, with his legs over Kakuzu's shoulders, and finally, on top, where he'd finally come, and somehow Kakuzu had made sure it all went over Hidan, even though he was the one on the floor. Hidan had flopped down onto him a moment later anyway, though, so it probably hadn't done him much good in the long run.
Hidan rolled over, groaning at the daylight in his eyes. He didn't remember getting into bed. In fact, he might easily just have fallen asleep on the stairs, draped comfortably half on top of Kakuzu. He felt a little awkward now. He was, he supposed, slightly anal about his own space, and he never liked to stay over after a casual fuck. His post-coital falling asleep habit didn't exactly help him avoid that, of course, so it often happened, and he hated the dismal mornings, everyone a little worse for wear, and a bit less attractive than they'd been the previous evening. Going downstairs to slightly grungy kitchens, with washing-up in the sink and no nice cereal. Still, lovers tarnished by the harsh light of day were better than none at all, he supposed. He wondered where Kakuzu was - he'd known the moment he woke that he was alone. Had he dumped Hidan in the guest bedroom, like a discarded toy? He rolled over again, and something crunched as his head moved onto the other pillow.
He struggled into a more upright position, groaning again as his head jolted. It seemed like he was playing the martyr to another hangover. There was a note on the pillow, slightly squashed now. Hidan smoothed it out.
'Good Morning, Hidan!' It read. 'Gone to walk dogs, back in an hour-ish. Water and Nurofen on the bedside table if you need it - make yourself at home, K.' Kakuzu had written the time at the top of the note, as well. '8.30 am.' God. That was early! Hidan glanced at the clock. It was just coming up to quarter past nine. Still early! And he was wide awake now. Kakuzu must have opened the curtains before he left, curse him! Hidan availed himself of the water and Nurofen, then piled all the available pillows into a nest-like stack before slumping back against them, taking a good look at the room. He felt a strange emotion he couldn't quite name creeping over him. Somehow the term 'casual fuck' was beginning to seem a little out of place, even just in his head.
Certainly he had to admit that his normal arguments for not staying over were irrelevant here. The grungiest thing about the room was Hidan himself, bleary, ruffled and probably smelling slightly of sweat and last night's sex. He sniffed delicately. Yes. There was definitely an element of that, though it seemed that Kakuzu had cleaned him up a little before putting him to bed. God knows how. Hidan imagined Kakuzu standing over his prone form with a giant sponge and snorted with inappropriate laughter.
The rest of the room was immaculate, and in a restrained and perhaps even austere way, rather opulent. Possibly rich was a better word... There was a large rug on the floor, of the type that Hidan thought of as Afghan. The floor itself was the original floorboards, but obviously re-sanded and varnished at great expense. The walls were an expanse of rich cream, the curtains subtly striped raw silk incorporating muted shades of the colours in the rug. All the wood - the bed itself, a large chest of drawers and wardrobe were the same dark shade - mahogany perhaps - and obviously antique. Two alcoves housed floor to ceiling bookcases, both full. The window looked out over Hampstead Heath, and must've been one of the most sought-after views in London. It was raining steadily, and Hidan could hear it pattering comfortingly outside. He snuggled down under the cream Indian crewel-work bedspread, and relished being warm and dry...
He had to admit that it was much nicer than waking up in Deidara's squat, or some project space in Hackney, where you couldn't even go out for breakfast, let alone get anything decent in. Undoubtedly, it was the way to live - the man obviously had both taste and a knack for living well. Hidan was willing to bet that Kakuzu's kitchen was well stocked with fairtrade coffee and artisan loaves. Probably Global knives (complete with ceramic steel) and gigantic bamboo chopping boards as well. He wondered whether Kakuzu was the type to have a Raeburn, and couldn't decide. Almost bound to have a juicer... maybe a smoothie maker... Weekend newspapers delivered... It made his own sixth floor Docklands warehouse conversion apartment seem a little soulless.
Glancing at the clock, he realised with an unfamiliar little jolt that Kakuzu might be back in less than ten minutes, and he decided he'd better get properly clean. He didn't want Kakuzu to find him dishevelled and unkempt. He got up - slowly - and made a token gesture towards making the bed before locating his dressing-gown and going in search of a bathroom.
He'd often had cause to bless his profession on a morning after, and it did make him feel far more comfortable wandering the halls of a strange and impressive house, not to have to do it in the nude, or in hastily flung on clothes from last night. He liked his dressing gown - it had red and white stylised clouds on a black ground, and was a particularly nice shape. He hoped he'd be able to get another as nice when it finally wore out. It had been a present after his first photoshoot with Akatsuki magazine, during which Deidara had managed to set his last one on fire...
Peering over the bannisters, Hidan realised he must be on the second floor. Did that mean Kakuzu had carried him up a flight and a half of stairs last night? Hidan felt himself blush slightly. He hoped Kakuzu wasn't irritated. For some reason he found he cared rather intensely what Kakuzu thought of him. This was an alien and rather disturbing feeling, and he suppressed it. He returned his attention to his surroundings. The landing he was standing on was wide and spacious, leading to a large study straight ahead, and a guest bedroom, to the side. There was a set of pull-downable steps leading up to what was probably a loft conversion...
Down half a flight of stairs immediately to the left of the bedroom door Hidan finally found a bathroom, and this he liked a little less than the rest of the house. It was large and rather cold, and it had a Victorian feel about it. The bath had clawed feet, and the toilet cistern seemed to be made of Willow-pattern china. It was mounted on the wall - higher than Hidan's head - and it didn't look to him as if it was entirely stable. He warily pulled the ancient looking chain that hung from it, one hand raised in case it fell on him, and the toilet gurgled ominously as if it wanted to swallow him. Who the fuck would want a toilet with so much history? Hidan didn't like to be made to think of how many shits had taken the same journey while he was innocently trying to take a slash...
Obviously, Kakuzu had had the shower put in in more recent times, so it had a more modern feel than the rest of the room, but still, Hidan suspected that his host was not a man with a particular reverence for showers as an institution. Probably he took less than five minutes and didn't even notice if the water wasn't hot. He felt paranoid enough to open the airing cupboard and feel the tank inside. It was hot, and, encouraged, Hidan shed his dressing gown and got in the shower. He had an immersion heater system back in his Docklands flat, so running out of hot water could never happen...
There were two approaches Hidan took with strange showers - either leave the settings as your host has left them and hope they have good taste, or turn it as hot as it will go, then inch the temperature down once it's heated up. He chose the second. He had a high success rate with this technique, and wasn't disappointed here. Reaching for Kakuzu's bodywash, he sniffed critically. More 'Old Spice' than 'Young Turk', certainly, but it was quite pleasant nonetheless. He squeezed out a generous blob.
Meanwhile on a bench on top of Parliament Hill, Kakuzu let the dogs bound around without him for a while. He wondered if Hidan was awake yet - he'd been like a log when Kakuzu left him. In fact, he'd become log-like about ten minutes after collapsing slippery and flushed onto Kakuzu's chest on the first-floor half-landing last night, and stayed that way ever since. Kakuzu smiled at the thought. He must've worn the kid out! He hadn't so much as stirred while Kakuzu wiped their combined come off him with a damp flannel, and had just obediently and obliviously swallowed while Kakuzu benevolently fed him water in an attempt to lessen his hangover in the morning.
And far from finding it a tiresome chore, as he would've predicted, Kakuzu had really rather enjoyed ministering to the younger man. Even carrying him upstairs - and Hidan was no light-weight - had felt right, and satisfying to him. 'Lay your sleeping head, my love, Human on my faithless arm,' he had thought, wishing he could remember the rest of the poem, and consequently he had a slim volume of Auden poems with him now. It was satisfying his need for a sort of confirmation of his emotions a lot better than Eliot had yesterday - a bad choice, in retrospect, far too cynical for his current mood. And, as he had suspected, the rest of the poem had borne out his feelings, particularly the bit about the abstract insight waking the hermit's carnal ecstasy. "Mortal, guilty, but to me, The entirely beautiful," he murmured before mentally slapping himself in the face for his sentimentality. If he wanted a lover he exchange literary quotations with he'd've done better to bed Sasori. And that idea didn't appeal to him at all.
Grimacing slightly at the thought, he got up and slipped the book back into his pocket, glancing at his watch and whistling to the dogs. He'd been longer than he said - timekeeping had never been a strong point of his - but he suspected it wasn't Hidan's either, so he didn't hurry. Tsuchi came bounding up to him, followed closely by Kaze; Kaminari and Mizu lagging a little behind. Tsuchi had always been the most attached to him - Kakuzu felt a little guilty at how many times he'd had to ask the vet's little brother Kiba to walk them in the last week, but he couldn't find it in him to regret how he'd spent the time instead.
The rain started to come down harder, and Kakuzu hurried down the hill, making for home.
Hidan really couldn't bear to put his T-shirt on, after he got out of the shower. It hadn't exactly been fresh yesterday morning, and now it was most definitely in need of a wash. He could hardly bear to touch it. Still, it wasn't cold in the house, despite the dismal weather outside. Hidan didn't see any reason to wear a top at all, under the circumstances. The situation with his boxer shorts was similar, so he decided to go commando. He wandered out onto the landing, trailing his dressing-gown behind him, wondering where Kakuzu was. He'd taken at least half an hour in the bathroom. Kakuzu was late!
He ran a hand through his drying hair, frustrated at the lack of gel to put in it. He'd rifled through all of Kakuzu's grooming products, which were shockingly few. Not even a moisturiser! Luckily Hidan carried one in his bag. He could see he'd have to start carrying gel too. And Kakuzu didn't have any conditioner, either. A real old school man's man, leaving beauty products to the ladies...
Wandering down to the first floor, he found that Kakuzu had his living room there. Unusual! There was another expensive looking rug on the polished floor, more bookcases... Wing-backed antique armchairs, an uncomfortable looking green leather settee... Hidan ambled lazily over to a smaller bookcase holding CDs. What would Kakuzu's musical tastes say about him? Hmm. Mainly classical. This disappointed Hidan's curiosity, as he could make nothing of it. He didn't even read the names and titles - a glance told him they would mean nothing to him. His eyes scanned past them to the few slightly less daunting albums... but even these seemed a somewhat austere selection. Alison Krauss and Union Station... Rather a lot of Leonard Cohen, some Dylan, Nick Drake, Leo Kottke... Sting's lute album... It was the classically educated man's few concessions to popular culture. Hidan felt a bit intimidated. He sat down on the rug and looked at the artworks scattered around the room. Some of the sculptures were Sasori's. He wondered if Kakuzu knew he'd posed for one of them, back when he'd first started modelling. It didn't really resemble him very much... Sasori had really just got him in for the anatomical side...
He had a sudden urge to just gather up his things and leave, now, while Kakuzu was out. Not having to deal with inevitably awkward conversation. Not having to betray his ignorance about everything Kakuzu seemed to care about. But somehow it wasn't a very powerful urge. This side of Kakuzu - the one who read books with names like 'And Quiet Flows the Don,' and 'The Sorrows of Young Werther,' not to mention having a scarily extensive poetry collection (could he really have time to read them all?) - it didn't really seem so incongruous with the side of him that had dealt so flawlessly with Hidan last night. God, just thinking about last night made the pit of his stomach tingle with nervous excitement. He couldn't remember when anyone had last taken him like that. With such authority. That was the thing - Kakuzu had authority, and it made Hidan want to roll over and surrender.
Hidan actually did roll over for a moment, there on the rug, imagining Kakuzu coming in and fucking him senseless, then abandoning him there on the floor and sitting down to read Proust without giving him another glance. He smirked, then jumped up as he heard a key in the lock downstairs.
At the curve of the staircase - just where he'd undone Kakuzu's fly last night, and wantonly begun to suck him off - he remembered the dogs, and froze. The door opened and Kakuzu was revealed, surrounded by them. Fuck, was it really necessary for one man to command such a large number of gigantic creatures? Hidan would have put it down to penis compensation of the same kind as driving a Mitsubishi Pickup, if he wasn't by now very familiar with Kakuzu's more than adequate size, and indeed, still slightly sore. The dogs each obediently shook themselves in the porch before crossing the threshold, then Kakuzu strode briskly over to the stairs and, shedding his overcoat and tossing it carelessly onto the bottom of the bannisters, ran lightly up to Hidan's side. He moved extremely gracefully for someone so powerfully built - Hidan was impressed, and more than a little turned on.
Damn, but Hidan looked hot like that, Kakuzu thought. Shirtless and barefoot, his hair damp and falling over his face a little more than Kakuzu had seen it do before. He reached for him without even stopping to consider, pulling him firmly towards him with a hand in the small of his back. He could smell his own shampoo, which pleased him. It made Hidan seem like his property...
"It's raining," Hidan said, displaying his knack for stating the obvious. Kakuzu's hand was cold on his bare skin.
"You don't have to go outside," Kakuzu murmured back.
Hidan leant back against Kakuzu's hand, letting him support his full weight. He looked at him provocatively with sultry bedroom eyes, but although he was rather tempted by the thought of revisiting last night's conquests, his stomach chose that moment to give out a loud rumble. "What have you got for breakfast?" he asked instead.
Kakuzu laughed. "This is cupboard love..." he said, brushing Hidan's hair back from his face, then setting him back on his feet. "What would you like? Toast? Muesli? Croissants? Eggs?"
Not Coco Pops, then. But Hidan had hardly expected them. Kakuzu laughed again, seeing him hesitate. "What do you normally eat, Sugar Puffs?"
"I like Sugar Puffs," said Hidan nonchalantly. "But I don't tend to keep them in stock." He wandered after Kakuzu down the stairs and along the hall towards the kitchen. "Toast would be lovely," he said, feeling extra civilised as he said it.
Kakuzu did get the Saturday Papers delivered. And milk. And, incidentally, an organic vegetable box, but that was on a Wednesday, and wouldn't've been at all to Hidan's taste at all anyway. They sat together at Kakuzu's big wooden kitchen table, eating toast - Kakuzu with marmalade, Hidan with honey - and drinking coffee, Kakuzu's black, Hidan's aggressively 'au lait' and with three sugar lumps. Kakuzu read the Money section of the Saturday Guardian, and Hidan flicked through the Weekend Magazine, sniggering through Lucy Mangan's agony aunt column and scouring the society pages to see if he'd been spotted with Kakuzu. It was calm, harmonious, and relaxing.
"Have you got the Review over there, Hidan?" asked Kakuzu, laying down the finance pages.
"Uh huh," said Hidan, deep in a rather catty article which pretended to discuss the problems of a voyeuristic society whilst actually detailing the break-up of Jordan and Peter Andre. He tossed the Review over to Kakuzu without looking up. Kakuzu caught it neatly, but didn't open it immediately. He sat back and watched Hidan slurp his coffee and avidly turn the pages of the Magazine. Even more than yesterday afternoon in his office he had the feeling that he wanted to keep him, possess him. Also, that he was bound to be trouble, of the kind that Kakuzu had spent most of his adult life avoiding. But just now, it was hard to imagine - he seemed so peaceful.
As he mused, the phone rang, making them both jump. Kakuzu went into the hall to get it.
"Hello. Kakuzu Taki speaking," he said formally.
"Kakuzu, it's Konan," came an anxious voice from the other end. "Kakuzu, I have an enormous favour to ask of you." She managed to sound professional and beseeching at the same time. Kakuzu smirked into the receiver, amused. He suspected it might be something only women could pull off properly.
"Well, I'm in an obliging mood," he said, glancing sideways at Hidan, who had come up beside him to try and overhear. "Try me..."