And I thought this was going to be an easy chapter to write… This is technically half a chapter - I meant to make it to the end of the evening in one go, but well… Writing happened. Enjoy, and please leave a comment! Second half will be soon!
2am on Friday morning, and Hidan crawled exhausted into Kakuzu's bed beside its sleeping owner. The fittings for Yugito's show tomorrow evening - no, this evening now, he reminded himself wearily - had run way over. Way, way, over, but apparently that was normal in this unholy hell of an industry. Suigetsu, wired on cocaine and coffee, had been telling him horror stories about it all night. He snuggled down, fitting himself into the curve of Kakuzu's body, and felt Kakuzu's arm go over him, a hand curling possessive fingers around his wrist, and he wanted to tell him all about it too.
Kakuzu nuzzled sleepily against the back of his neck. "Mm..." he grunted into his hair, clearly not really awake at all, "Hidan..." Hidan pressed back against him a little; he wondered if he could wake him - he wanted to - but after another moment he'd joined him in sleep instead.
He was vaguely aware of Kakuzu getting up at six, of lips brushing against his forehead, deep voice making words he couldn't quite wake up enough to decipher. Then the excited barking of the dogs as they left for their walk, or came back, or both maybe; he couldn't be sure. By the time his alarm finally jerked him rudely into full wakefulness Kakuzu was long gone.
He left the house in cool bright sunshine that held the promise of a beautiful day. He didn't need to be at the Shoreditch warehouse - where he'd be walking for Yugito that evening - until eleven, but he didn't feel like staying around the house without Kakuzu there. Only a day without it and he was already missing their morning run together. He smiled a little ruefully, remembering yesterday's; thinking about how he'd licked a salty trail up Kakuzu's spine between his shoulder blades as he'd followed him into the shower, how Kakuzu had turned and tilted his face up again to kiss him hard on the mouth like he was laying claim, pinning him against the wet tiles, kissing him and touching him until he was gasping and laughing and - like always - crazy for him, just fucking crazy for him.
He'd given himself butterflies just thinking about it and smiled ruefully as he unlocked his bike from the railings. He paused a moment, trying to make up his mind whether to ride across the Heath or wriggle through the small one-way streets. He felt so unsettled, somehow, and it wasn't just the butterflies. His head hadn't really been in the right place for the last few days and he felt stressed-out and nervy. He'd go to the gym, he thought, until it was time to head to Shoreditch. Maybe a fast cycle and a hard workout would make him feel a bit more normal.
But before he'd wheeled his bike off the kerb a fat grey cat who'd been sitting regally on the little wall by Kisame's gate stalked across the road and jumped up onto Kakuzu's car next to him. "Mrrraouuw," it said - low and pedigree-sounding. Hidan held out his hand and it sniffed him imperiously, then rubbed its head firmly against his knuckles.
"Ah, you are fucking plushy, aren't you?" he cooed, scratching it under the chin and feeling the rumble of a purr starting up. He sat down beside it on the bonnet, something that would have earned him a stern glare from Kakuzu - and possibly something a little more physical too; just thinking about it made him ache with longing. "Aren't you just the plushiest fat fuck?" he said to the cat, to distract himself. "Yeah you are. Yeah you are!"
He went in confidently for a stroke - but a split second later he was snatching his hand away, yelping in pain and surprise as the cat hissed and swiped at him, claws bared, purring doing a swift volte-face into throaty growling. He wasn't quite in time either - she caught his retreating finger with a nasty little hooky, gouging motion.
"Ow!" he said indignantly, sucking his bleeding finger and backing away a few paces. "The fuck?! What the fuck's your problem?!" He stared accusingly at it and it held his gaze for a moment with disconcertingly yellow eyes, then jumped down off the car and walked arrogantly back across the road, plumy tail waving.
He took his finger out of his mouth to examine it - it was bleeding quite freely and it hurt like a bitch. He winced, and hissed as he experimentally tried to bend his finger and the cut opened a little. Fucking revolting, but kind of irresistible at the same time. He let a few drops fall onto the pavement and started to feel a little more relaxed, then. Jashin had him. Jashin was with him. He closed his eyes and felt the world retreat a moment. When he opened them again everything felt easier - even the time until the evening didn't seem like such a desert expanse anymore. He took a deep breath as reached for his rosary.
But just as he'd started to pray - and abruptly breaking his spiritual mood - Kisame emerged from his basement wearing a ridiculously short dressing gown and an almost aggressively apologetic demeanour. "Samehada, no! Bad girl!" he addressed the cat, who ignored him and stalked past into his kitchen. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Hidan; please, never touch Samehada, she can't bear to be touched by anyone but me! I'd forgotten I hadn't warned you!" He was holding some damp kitchen towel and a box of plasters which he proffered placatingly. "I'm so sorry!' he repeated.
"It's okay man..." Hidan said dreamily. He was still watching the drops of blood dry on the tarmac. He didn't do anything about his cut finger, so after a moment Kisame began to dab doubtfully at it with his wad of tissue.
"Hidan?" he said, peering into his face. "You all there, mate?"
"What?" Hidan shook his head a little and took the tissue from him. "Yeah, yeah, just ... didn't get too much sleep last night, I'm still a bit wrecked..."
Kisame selected a large plaster for him and pulled off the paper wrapper. "Ah, I feel you, I took Itachi out to Heathrow at 5am so I didn't get much myself. I thought I'd be able to get back to sleep but no such luck."
"Huh?" Hidan taped the sticky part of the plaster directly onto the cut so it wouldn't have a chance to reopen. "Where's he going? He well enough to fly then?"
"That Kabuto guy pulled some strings to get him into a medical trial in the US." Kisame leaned broodingly on the top of Kakuzu's car. "He's not great but they gave him a hefty whack of some really hard hitting antibiotics for the pneumonia and it seemed like too good an opportunity to miss."
"Fuck..." Hidan said expressively. "Well, good luck to him." He looked at Kisame with a little more attention. He was unshaven and his eyes looked a little bloodshot. Hidan thought he could probably use some distance from Itachi right now. "Hey, you should come along tonight!" he said, on impulse. "I guess your fashion editor's been sent a couple of invites..."
"Ah..." Kisame looked shifty. "Maybe. I mean, I'd love to see you strut your stuff, of course I would! But. Look. We'll see. It'll throw the seating plan into disarray if I RSVP now, won't it? Yugito's publicist will throw her toys out of the pram..."
Hidan laughed darkly. "Fucking hell, man, these people, fucking nothing's ready, we haven't even seen the venue yet, and the measurements will probably turn out to be bullshit and all - I'd say late RSVPs are probably the least of Samui's worries!"
It occurred to him after he'd cycled off and left Kisame halfway down the street that the real reason he wasn't committing was because he'd see Suigetsu there. He'd clearly been avoiding him, and Suigetsu wasn't happy. He had a vague memory of him - after a lot of coke and G - asking him plaintively how many unanswered texts was too many, and having answered with maybe quite brutal incredulity, 'one, man...'
And thinking of the slew of texts he tended to send Kakuzu before even expecting an answer, he felt a little bad for the poor kid.
He had a fleeting thought of going to the gym after the rehearsal instead and catching Suigetsu for a quick chat before they began. It was supposed to finish at four after all, so technically there was time. But he supposed it was possible that they might overrun and he was hoping to get back in time to see Kakuzu for an hour or so when he was back from work - before heading out again for the show itself - so now was better. He stood up in the saddle and powered up the hill onto the Heath.
Suigetsu would probably have been able to tell him that things were pretty unlikely to work out that way, but Hidan's inexperience in working on the runway had led him to place rather more faith in the schedule than perhaps he should have done. At four o'clock there still wasn't actually a physical runway in the warehouse; only one of Hidan's looks was completed, and some pieces of apparently crucial hand-embroidered fabric hadn't yet been delivered. Everyone was exhausted and irritable and jacked up on whatever stimulants they could lay their hands on. By five things weren't much better, and by five thirty it was clear there was no way anyone was going to be making it home.
Kakuzu's phone rang just as he was leaving the office.
"Kakuzu?" Hidan's voice sounded seriously pissed off. "Ah, man... This fucking blows. We're not done. Some of the fucking material hasn't even arrived! So basically I'm not going to get home before the show. Yugito's fucking sewn me into some fucking crazy thing she dreamt up in the night and I don't even know where my shoes are anymore. And people keep sticking pins in me."
Kakuzu perched on the edge of his desk and looked out over the City. He surprised himself by just how much the thought of not seeing Hidan until the evening brought him down - it felt like they'd barely managed a five minute conversation since the day of Sasori's funeral.
"Oh, love, what a drag," he said, trying to keep his disappointment out of his voice because Hidan sounded dejected enough already. He looked at his watch. "Shall I come and see you where you are?" he offered.
"Yes!" Kakuzu couldn't help a smile at the naked delight in Hidan's tone. "Yes! And fucking hell, Kakuzu, bring me some food - I haven't had any lunch and I feel like I'm gonna fucking die!"
"You haven't had lunch?" Kakuzu was indignant. "Don't they take any care of you at all? What is wrong with these people?"
"Fashion people, man. They don't understand. The food that's here isn't real food; it's all fucking vegan or some shit! And I fucking worked out this morning any everything! I fucking need protein! Protein that isn't lentils! I'm about to go into autophagy or some shit!"
"Don't panic, love, I've got you," Kakuzu said calmly, going through a mental list of places in the vicinity that sold food. It was pretty limited; a Costa was probably his best bet. "What do you want?" he asked.
"Anything," Hidan said tragically. "I can't think! I can't remember what real food is! How long will you be?"
Half an hour later Kakuzu strode into the warehouse, cheese and ham panini in hand. He paused a moment to let his eyes adjust from the brightness outside. The heavy door clanged shut behind him, muting the noise of the three lanes of traffic on Great Eastern Street, and he squinted a little as he began to make out the outlines of arched brickwork and metal beams. There was a little flight of semi-circular steps directly ahead of him and he climbed up them, then hesitated again.
Racks of clothes everywhere, people milling around, and no sign of any kind of catwalk - just a massive pile of scaffolding and deconstructed staging. Kakuzu looked at his watch. Less than three hours until the show began; he couldn't imagine how they could possibly pull it all together in time. Was this what fashion was always like? He couldn't imagine Konan having Akatsuki Gallery in a state like this on the day of an opening. No wonder Hidan had been so stressed out for the last two days.
He caught sight of him halfway across the room, surrounded by seamstresses and stylists, one half of his face smeared artistically in black and white body paint, an expression of long-suffering forbearance clearly visible even so. Watching him in silence for a moment, Kakuzu didn't immediately notice Suigetsu Houzuki slide up beside him.
Oh hi, Kakuzu," he said casually. Kakuzu looked down with a start. "You looking for Hidan?" He gave him a sharp-toothed grin and didn't wait for an answer, yelling raucously across the venue, "Oi, Hidan! Daddy's here!"
Hidan's head snapped up, causing one of the make-up artists to accidentally smear a streak of black across his left cheekbone. "That's grandpa to you, fuckboy!" he called back, not missing a beat and hurling a pincushion not particularly accurately at Suigetsu's head. "Kakuzu, man! Over here!"
Suigetsu giggled, then ducked out of the way and vanished as a cool female voice cut through the shocked chatter - an unmistakeable voice of command. "Boys! Behave!"
It was Yugito Nii herself, stalking around in killer high heels; distracted for a moment from talking rapidly into her phone, but back to it as soon as the buzz of frenzied activity resumed. "Bee, can you bring it over yourself?" Kakuzu heard her say. It was another command - very unconvincingly dressed up as a plea. "Honestly, I need it two hours ago! Half the looks are probably going to end up stapled together-" She broke off again as she saw him. "Hold on a sec," she murmured, and then she was all focused on him, her phone thrust at an assistant, striding towards him, clacking heels loud on the polished concrete floor.
"Kakuzu Taki!" she said, holding out both her hands, intense but unsmiling. "How fabulous to have you here! We've met once before I think..."
Kakuzu remembered it only too well; he had a sudden visceral recall of the way her cigarette butt had fizzled out in the discarded wine glass he'd dropped it into - having snatched it from her fingertips a split second before it could make contact with Hidan's bare chest. Hidan, dripping with red wine and laughing; Yugito a white hot fury. That elation and adrenaline he'd felt as Hidan hung off his arm for balance, dodging the follow-up swipe of her knife-like red-painted nails and cackling like a lunatic. (Had he been subconsciously flexing his guns just a little so Hidan would feel it through his shirt sleeve and be suitably impressed...? Of course he had - and they twitched again now just at the thought...) But he made sure to keep his face as impassive as ever as he took Yugito's hands and not-quite-kissed her scented cheek. "Lovely to meet you again Yugito," he said smoothly. "Can I borrow Hidan for ten minutes? I'll bring him back, I promise."
"Ladies, get the piece off Hidan - we need to start finalising now anyway," Yugito called over to her team in answer. From a little silver case she extracted one of the same thin black cigarettes he remembered so clearly, and lit it up with a long slow drag. "You're coming tonight, aren't you, Kakuzu?" she demanded; cool and imperious, but there was something kind of hungry about her at the same time. Kakuzu wondered how she'd react if he said no. Not well, he suspected.
"Wouldn't miss it," he said instead, on autopilot, stepping back a little and starting to move away - he knew how Hidan felt about the smell of tobacco smoke. He watched him being carefully extracted from his pinned together garment and noted the fanatical hollow-eyed look about him that was a sure indicator of a fragile mood. But as he reached him he brightened. He flung on his dressing gown and grabbed a handful of wet wipes from one of Yugito's assistants, massaging his stiff shoulder muscles and grimacing.
"Can I get this shit off now, Yugito?" he called, gesturing at his face.
"Go for it, darling," Yugito called back, already on the phone again.
"C'mere," he said, grabbing hold of Kakuzu's hand and pulling him over to a smaller metal door which presumably led backstage. Already scrubbing at the make-up as he elbowed it open, he led Kakuzu down a flight of stairs and into a dressing room with subway tiles on the walls and a lighter feel. Hidan's bike was there, leaning against some folded trestle tables, as well as various belongings and bags. But thankfully, no other people. Hidan flung himself dramatically into a metal folding chair and Kakuzu handed him his sandwich. Unfolding another chair from a stack by the door he sat down next to him, took the wipes out of his hand and started to clean him up a little more efficiently as he ate.
"Ah, I'm so fucking glad you're here," Hidan said, mouth full. "I thought I wouldn't see you til I went on the runway."
"You should've called before!" Kakuzu chided him. "I could've cancelled my last meeting, it wasn't even-" He broke off, suddenly catching sight of the plaster on Hidan's free hand. He snatched it up. "What's this?"
"Ah, man, Kisame's cat! It's a fucking psychopath."
"Kisame has a cat?" Kakuzu frowned, prodding Hidan's fingertip to check the circulation was normal. Perhaps he had known that, though. Perhaps, actually, Kisame had mentioned a cat one time - somebody feeding it for him while he was down at the coast or some such throwaway detail. And given that Kakuzu always had his dogs with him when he passed, maybe it wasn't surprising that he'd never seen the creature.
"Yeh, man," Hidan said indistinctly. "A fat fucking bastard like a fucking feline seal." He wriggled around in his seat and laid himself down across Kakuzu's lap, balancing his legs up on the back of the chair. "Kisame's acting like a grade-A clagnut about Suigetsu, man," he opined. "He won't come tonight because he's avoiding him."
"Well, Suigetsu's ever so young, isn't he?" Kakuzu had some sympathy with Kisame there. "I thought you felt the same - it's hardly appropriate for Kisame to-"
But Hidan had evidently changed his mind. "Nah, he's grown on me - he's my little buddy now!" he declared. "He's a good kid. Almost everyone else here is an arsehole, though," he added as though it had some bearing on the matter. "There's one particular twat - stylist who thinks he's some kind of hotshot - always up in my shit, made the fittings this morning take ten times as fucking long as they should..."
"Mmm," Kakuzu said soothingly. He found a clean patch of wet wipe and smoothed doubtfully at Hidan's cheekbone. "This stuff is tenacious..." he said.
"Ugh, tell me about it," Hidan moaned. "They've been fucking about with the horrible shit all day!" He gestured towards his rucksack, slung over the handlebars of his bike. "Grab my bag, there's a moisturiser in it somewhere. That might work better."
It did, and having got Hidan decently clean - as well as ridiculously soft and smooth - Kakuzu did his best to make a comfortable surface for him to relax on for five minutes. He wished he could just take him home, and had to remind himself not to be so ridiculously over-protective, even if it did seem to be the adjective du jour for him. Almost every news site this morning had been plastered with leaked pictures from Sasori's funeral, with particular focus on himself blocking the punch of Shikamaru Nara's friend; Hidan next to him, wild-eyed and avid with bloodlust - an expression almost universally misinterpreted as grief-stricken shock. He wondered if Hidan had seen them yet.
Whatever the reason, it seemed he couldn't settle. He was full of nervous energy, and after eating little more than a quarter of his sandwich he dropped the rest back into the bag and got up, and paced restlessly.
Kakuzu got up too. "Hidan?" he said, carefully, because the way Hidan was looking up at him now - uncharacteristically serious, his eyes shining with a fanatical light - he was just in no doubt at all it meant trouble. "Aren't you hungry anymore?" he asked. "You haven't eaten much."
"I don't know, man," Hidan said dismissively. "I probably need to let it settle for a bit. I guess I let myself get too hungry."
Kakuzu thought it was very likely an emotional rather than a physical loss of appetite, but before he could think of the best way to approach calming him down, Hidan had changed the subject.
"Kakuzu, man, I need to talk to you about something..." he said, an edge of nervous excitement in his voice that made Kakuzu's heart sink and skip at the some time.
"What is it, Hidan?" he said warily.
"I need to do a ritual. A full one. I've been wondering what the fuck's wrong with me all day - well, it's that."
Kakuzu nodded slowly, as noncommittally as he could, and hoped very much that Hidan didn't mean now.
But it seemed he wasn't quite that crazy. "I'll have to do it after the show, now," he said, and sighed. "I've been on fucking edge all day..."
Kakuzu crossed over to him and slipped an arm around his waist. On second thoughts, if Hidan had been intending to do it immediately his duty to talk him down would have been clear ... now he didn't really have any recourse to try and stop this. "I'm sure I can help you out there," he murmured, trying anyway. "I usually get you pretty relaxed, don't I..?"
"Ah, man, nothing else is going to work by this point," Hidan said, wriggling away a little. "And don't think I having fucking noticed what you've been up to..."
Kakuzu coloured slightly. He hadn't thought he'd been rumbled yet. At least Hidan didn't seem angry about it, but, "You can't blame me for not wanting you hurt," he muttered awkwardly, looking away. No matter the extenuating circumstances - or how much of a long shot the advance had been in the first place - the sting of sexual rejection was clearly one of life's little constants and he felt it now, even knowing full well how ridiculous it was.
"Ah, Kakuzu..." Hidan took his face between his hands, and he was smiling now. "I'm not going to be 'hurt', I'll be in communion with God. I'll be in His hands-" He kissed Kakuzu on the mouth, slowly and sensually. "It'll be fucking beautiful, you'll see."
Kakuzu, finding himself quite shaken by the faraway intensity in his eyes, was barely able to respond. Hidan kissed him again, his hands locking together at the back of his neck, even more insistent. "Shit, I'm so fucking happy you want to be there," he whispered.
Kakuzu pushed him back a little, a hand on his chest to keep him down, feeling the excited thump of his heartbeat. "Calm down, Hidan," he said flatly. "You know how I feel. I want to be there to make sure you don't bleed to death, that's all." He turned away again to avoid the religious fervour still beaming out of him, but Hidan's hand was at his cheek again, pulling him back around.
"It's okay." His voice was loaded with understanding. "I get it. I do. You've only seen rituals where things've got a bit fucked up. That's not how it should be." He gave a little bounce on the balls of his feet. "This one's gonna be different!
Kakuzu frowned. "You can't know that. What makes you so sure, anyway?"
"Trust, man! Faith!" Hidan's eyes lit up. "When I need to do it so much I can't resist any longer, I know He'll be there to hold me til I'm done. I'm in His sight, always. And sure, He's not always going to call me when it's most convenient. But He's got me. I know you don't like the idea, but every time I've messed up, it's led me back to you. How can you not believe that's part of a bigger plan? Jashin loves you. He's holding you as well, even if you don't know it yet."
"Hidan..." Kakuzu, shaking his head, began to accept that he couldn't just evade this. He put his hand over Hidan's. "You crazy, messed up kid," he murmured, as gently as he could manage. "As far as I'm concerned 'Jashin' ranks with Father Christmas and the tooth fairy, and you know that isn't going to change."
Hidan put his fingertips over his mouth. "Don't blaspheme," he said. "Jashin forgives you though. You know His suffering; and He sees that." He picked up his rosary. "I'm just going to pray that you'll come to know His peace as well..."
He closed his eyes, immediately radiating angelic beauty. Kakuzu sighed. Hidan was so excited, so keyed up. It was true, this was a different kind of run-up to the ritual than he'd seen before. He caught himself on the verge of thinking maybe it's okay then. Then reeled himself back in. It's not okay. Really, not okay.
"Alright, stop praying for me now, love," he said, taking Hidan's rosary hand away from his mouth. "I've got to go in a minute if I'm going to have time to walk the dogs and get back for the show. And I just wanted to-"
He didn't bother with any more talking; he couldn't quite put into words exactly what he it was wanted to do anyway. He just needed a moment with him without anything in between them. He leant in so that his lips just brushed against Hidan's where the rosary had been, then he was kissing him gently, almost tentatively - since Hidan knew what he was up to - but as he pulled back to look at him, to check that this was okay, he saw that he'd come out of his reverie and the angelic look had vanished. It was being swiftly and incongruously replaced with a wicked grin.
"Oh fuck... Ohh fuuuuck..." he murmured, pressing against Kakuzu. "After the show; and the fucking after party; and the ritual... man, I am so ready for you to fuck me halfway into next week..."
"Only halfway...?" Kakuzu kissed him again, with more authority now. "That's a - very - crowded schedule, love. Maybe our lives are too busy..." His hand smoothed down along Hidan's lapel, flicking open the fastenings with practised fingers. "I'm not sure about being fourth on your to-do list..."
"Yeah..." Hidan agreed. "I'm not going to do any of the others the way I'm gonna do you though!"
"Well that's a comfort," Kakuzu said drily, raising a sarcastic eyebrow - then promptly ruined the effect by getting his hands inside Hidan's dressing gown and giving a involuntary groan of desire at the first feel of him. "Ohh. I've missed you today," he whispered. "I just want to take you home..."
"Ahh, don't get me too excited or Yugito'll have to make even more fucking alterations..." Hidan smirked, sliding himself against Kakuzu in a way that was very unlikely to help either of them keep their composure.
"Oh, I see, it's all my fault, is it?" Kakuzu trailed a fingertip along Hidan's spine. "You're really very, very excitable this afternoon altogether..." He slipped his fingers under the waistband of Hidan's boxers. "Can't you bump me up the list a bit? Do we really have to go to this after-party...?"
"Yugito'll probably cry if we don't. Or maybe burn me. I think she wants to show you off as much as me..."
"Mmm. She'd better not try anything," Kakuzu said darkly. "She shouldn't think I've forgotten that little stunt. And I really don't make such a nice exhibit as you do..."
"Oh don't be coy, baby, you know getting you on the front row was massive for her. Makes her feel like a real fucking artist..."
There was a definite spring in Hidan's step as they emerged back through the side door, and Kakuzu was reasonably hopeful that he'd done enough to get him through the rest of the afternoon. But while his mood was undeniably upbeat now, there was something so off about him - something kind of manic in his energy - and Kakuzu could see him flipping the other way horribly easily. But looking over his shoulder one last time before he slipped out of the warehouse into the heat and noise of Great Eastern Street, he watched him vault easily up onto the runway that was now well on the way to completion and strut up towards a slightly less anxious-looking Yugito.
"I'm... too sexy for my love, too sexy for my love; love's going to leave me..." he intoned in as deep and husky a voice as he could manage, and she turned and laughed.
"Shake that little tush then, darling," she said. "Here's your catwalk! Or half of it, at least!"
Hidan draped a languid arm around her shoulders. "We've decided we're both too sexy for your party, by the way..." he teased, that slight arch note in his tone he only ever used when talking to women, Kakuzu had noticed. "We've got better plans..."
"Oh shut up, you're not getting out of it." She aimed a playful slap at his hand; he whisked it away from her. "Now go back to wardrobe and get Look 1 on - they should be finished with it by now. We're going to run the set, starting in five."
Let me know your thoughts! It is so much easier to write when I have proof I'm not shouting into the void! Part 2 will follow as soon as I can make it happen. :D