senri
in
bedlam_mix
Naruto - (Hidan/Yugito/Kakuzu) - (1/2)
The real deal this time. Not just silly fluff.
SO much credit should go to Alex-zk for being willing to indulge my silly OT3 and write it with me. She is unbelievably good and her Hidan is unbelievably, wonderfully, horribly deranged and I basically totally adore her and this would not have been anywhere near as nice without her. Go and give her some love. <3
Genre: Darkfic / Smut. Ish.
Warnings: M
Fandom: Naruto.
Notes: Going along with the AU-verse I'm slowly building where the zombie combi has to lug Yugito back to Akatsuki HQ because Zetsu is detained. What if she got away for even a few days and took refuge someplace? They'd find her, of course. *Contains Hidan in a dress. Because we really, really wanted to.
Yugito pulls off the hood once she's back on the temple complex, and through the guard's checkpoint. It's hot to keep her head covered up all day, especially in this sunny, warm country, but she doesn't want to be seen. Her sharp, pale face is distinctive amidst these people, and her hair shines like the bright edge of a candle-flame. There's enough people going around in cover that she isn't particularly remarkable amongst them. And if she sweats for her safety, well.. it's safety, at least. She's not going to flaunt herself. She wants to get out of this town alive.
The temple grounds are walled, with baths and a cafeteria and outbuildings; there are paths that go alongside the buildings, with awnings to shade them. It's surprisingly cool and dark on the grounds, because the sun is low, and its last beams can't quite make it over the compound's walls. She has to stop and blink and shiver to adjust to the sudden change, so different from the lively town she just left.
There are other women walking together on the paths, women on the run, like her. They trade nods as they pass her but tend not to smile. They're a closemouthed community, these women; Yugito hasn't made a friend, but she doesn't want to. Better not to form attachments to anyone she'll have to drop in a seconds notice, and she's going to be on the move again shortly, anyway.
She's been roomed in one of the outlying buildings. She plans to spend one more night here, in the tiny cell, taking advantage of the food and the baths, and then she'll start trying to make her way back towards Hidden Cloud. Or so she plans.
The air is cooling. Evening here is almost pleasant, and softly chilly, compared to the heat of the days. It's full of the echoes of workers going about their duties and chants being murmured beyond the thick, rusticated sandstone walls of the temple itself. Only the highest steeples are still being caught by the gold rays of the sun, the great bells shining black and bronze. They'll toll in an hour or so, as they do at the end of every day.
She can smell the gardens beyond the back walls, pungent rosemary and thyme, cooking herbs. This close to the temple, she can smell the rocky incense the holy women use too, and the grass that has been baked all day under the sun is fresh-scented now, coming back to life as the temperature drops bit by bit.
She makes her way down the last cobbles of the path to her tiny door, pushes it open and enters her dark, small cell.
And there is a scent here, too. One that's too faint for her to catch, really, but the cat in her head picks it up, and her thoughts fill for a moment with the phantom echoes of frantic, furious hissing.
She steps in, analyzing the aftertaste of that unease, trying to pursue it and tease out what's got her hackles suddenly up this way. Nothing is out of place; she doesn't have a roommate, it's just her tiny little space, a narrow bed with a window over it and a dresser with a basin. She drops her bag and is just turning when the door closes behind her.
Not a loud noise, but it makes her jump like a shot was fired; Yugito starts to turn around and she just barely catches a glimpse of the person coming at her before they're on her, slammed up against her, her up hard against the wall doubled over their knee slammed against her just below where her ribs end. Yugito doubles over, gasps, nearly throws up over the leg of whoever's pinned her - the impact is that bad. Her hands clutch uselessly against hard muscle. Pain rolls out from the point of impact. Stunning.
"What-" she gasps, eyes blurred with tears - and whoever's got her snatches a fistful of her long hair and drags her back, makes her arch against the wall. Caught off guard, she's susceptible to this kind of attack. Whoever's got her is stronger that she is. "Who-"
But she already knows, of course.
"Bitch," he hisses right against her ear, voice somewhere between a gleeful chuckle and an irritated snarl. "Bitch, bitch, bitch. Fucking took forever to track you down. Seriously."
His breath is hot. His whole body radiates this sort of prickling, thick warmth. He places this so-gentle little graze of a kiss against her earlobe, which is ridiculous, considering he's still got a grip on her hair that's making her scalp ache. Considering her head is still spinning, and her eyes are still watering from the strike with his knee. He pulls her away from the wall and then slams her back again. And again. The plaster must be cracking, she thinks, that's how hard she feels she's being forced against it. He does it one last time--shaking her like some wild dog with its teeth sunk into a little grass animal.
"Not that," he says, holding her like a dance partner as she keels forward against him, muscles trembling, gasping to get the breath back in her lungs. "Not that this whole thing isn't sort of fun, in a way. Been a while, you know? Things don't get away from us that often."
He waltzes her backward and dumps her on the tiny bed, and it's then that she realizes what he's wearing. Some of the shocked horror melts away into just shock. Her mind's a blank, for a moment or two.
What's funny - hilarious almost - is that he makes a scarily good-looking woman. Not that, not that his shouldn't aren't really too broad to pass under close inspection, or that his face isn't even sharper than hers... but he's pretty enough, with his features, to pass as a girl. It's in the mouth, which is ridiculously full. He'd pass, with a well-placed henge and a little careful dressing. In fact, the question as to whether he would pass or not is not even hypothetical, as the guard when she passed was still alive, the temple was not on alarm. He passed the gate check and wandered through all the rooms and now he's here.
She supposes she should think of all the lives that were probably saved, that these two men didn't just slaughter their way in. But honestly, she'd rather that they'd done that. It would have given her a warning.
Regardless. He gets a knee up on the bed and grins meanly down at her, and the silk of the dress he's wearing pulls tight across his belly. The dress is satinly long and red-and-white, luxurious, and his arms are bare - the arms are obviously male, all that sculpted muscle, he must have covered them up with some kind of scarf or shawl getting in. They're bare now, glimmering in the dim light that comes through the window.
With the dress pulled tight that way, it's really pretty obvious that he's not a woman. Yugito snaps out of it, starts to struggle up, still snatching pathetically at the air to reclaim the breath that was knocked out of her.
"Oh no you don't," he snarls, throwing his other leg up and across her. Hidan sits down on her belly with his knees up against her lower ribs, squeezing, and Yugito wheezes and gasps and squirms and clutches some more. "Kakuzu's pissed at you. Oh, man, so fucking pissed, you don't even want to know. Not," he leers, "that you're not going to find out. Seriously. The old bastard is a real stickler for our schedule."
He starts yanking at the collar of her shirt, trying to rip the fabric open, and even with her head spinning Yugito has the presence of mind to grab for his hand and try to twist the thumb back. Try to break a finger, distract him somehow, anything. No good, no good, even his hands are tense with raw strength, stronger than her.
He grabs her hand instead. Her wrist, and twists it just enough that pain spikes in her bone there too. He drops forward and presses the full length of his body on hers. "Me, I really don't give a fuck how long it takes. It's not the destination, it's the journey, right?"
She feels the hot touch of his tongue against her pulse. He closes his mouth over her pulse-point, wetting it, tenderizing it, until she's acutely aware of its flickering movement. She tries to twist away from his mouth, twist her wrists out of his hands.
He stops mouthing her and breathes a warm drought of air over her damp skin instead. "Later," he promises. "I'll have a taste of you again. Soon. Maybe."
Yugito squirms beneath him, but it doesn't do much good. He's bigger and heavier than her. Pressing her down. Pinning her with a lot of tense, hard muscle. She arches the wrong way and feels for just a minute how absolutely not female he is, through the dress, and recoils. She tries to sink down into the mattress instead of shoving away from it. Makes herself even smaller. Her body feels so miniature to her, suddenly. A fragile lightness. Maybe because he's right there, right over her. He's strong as hell. All this unbelievable power, hot and feral, bone and meat and will. Her bones feel delicate as reeds. Her skin feels too tender to her--too soft. Easy as a feather to rip to bits.
"You're blushing," he remarks. "Your heart's beating hard. I can feel it."
She glares up at him, hateful, with her lips drawn back from her teeth. Instinct tells her to spit and hiss and snarl, make herself intimidating to make it go away. Experience tells her, wait it out. Wait for an opening.
He's got one wrist in each hand; he passes the wrist in his right hand over and squinches it in so he's got her pinioned with only his left hand. Not that the grip lets up, oh no. Yugito tries it, she twists her arms but he's got her really good. Impressive grip strength. He props himself up on his left elbow and slides his free hand between their bodies and under the hem of her shirt to trace circles on her stomach with an unsettlingly light touch. She can feel him, now, hard and pushing at her, but his smirk isn't more uncontrolled than normal and his eyes are half-closed, lazy.
She pulls hard at her arms again, hisses through her teeth when he grabs her and pinches hard. Really hard, pulling up at the skin and then twisting it slowly. He's sliding down to lie on top of her, lying between her legs, all heavy blanketing warmth and she can feel sweat prickling on her upper lip and lower back. He slides his hand from her belly upwards and she cringes back. She has some idea where this is going, after all.
"Oh, c'mon," he says lazily. "You gonna just lie there and take it, after all this effort, bitch? I'm gonna get bored."
That hand makes it way under her shirt, and his rough, bare palm touches her flesh. His fingertips press in and down, like he's counting the spaces between her ribs, making his way up. There's a part of her that likes it, almost. Just for a confused second. A part of her that is so unsettled that it wants the reassurance of touch. Even his touch, wrong as it seems. Just anything to know she's still here. Still conscious. Alive.
The thick ruffles and lace-bits of the dress rasp silken over her as he shifts himself. His fingers find the bottom curve of her left breast and sort of press there. Tickle, oh-so-dangerously lightly. It's hard to tell when Hidan's on the brink of doing something insane and when he's not. She holds her breath and thinks--she doesn't know whether engaging is going to help her position or not. Sometimes talking to him just makes him worse. But she wants to distract him. She has to do something.
She relaxes. Makes herself relax. "So..." she says slowly. "So... you're... we're leaving? Now? You're taking me away?"
"Mmm." She can feel him grinning against the side of her neck. "Now? Nah. Not just yet. Gotta wait."
"Wait," she says. That sounds worrying. "For what?"
"Shit," he grins. "Guess you'll find out." He rolls his palm against her breast, smoothes at the skin as though he'd using his fingers to paint down uneven edges. He's all calloused on his hands. They catch on her smooth skin there, seeming almost to stick. He noses at her chin, at her jawline. Scrapes his teeth against her throat. Yugito tries to keep her breathing even.
"How long is it to... wherever we're going?"
"NOW you gotta ask questions? Fuck, I hate girls who talk in bed." He turns his head and bites her, hard, on the triangle of muscle where her neck meets her shoulder. "C'mon, keep doing it. Make me mad. Seriously."
She clasps and unclasps her fingers against his arms, nails leaving crescent-moon dents in the white flesh. "I don't..." she starts, but she's not exactly sure what she means to say. She's not sure she wants to say anything. Her silence seems just as likely to bring an attack as anything else she might do. It's all a big gamble.
"Come on," he urges, whispers, like he's really eager. Like he's really begging. "Come on. I want you to. Piss me off. I dare you."
"You're not already angry?" she asks, frowning. Her smooth brow knits as as his thumb and forefinger find her nipple, the softest part, and she can feel the cool rub of his ring on her flesh.
"Not angry enough. I told you, I don't give a shit how long this damn trip takes. It's just hi--" He stops speaking abruptly, lifts his head from where his teeth were clenched deep against her shoulder and sort of halfway sits up off of her, though he doesn't release her wrists. Yugito turns her head and watches a great, dark form slip heavy and smooth as a big cat through her cell's tiny window. And she's never seen so much anger, she thinks. It's in the pale eyes. In the air around him, like her Nibi's flames come up around her, when she loses control. Rage so thick it's fills the room.
But, she comforts herself, at least he's not in a dress.
Rage makes him bigger than ever, and darker. Yugito shrinks down and sort of wishes Hidan was on her again, covering her from that angry gaze. Kakuzu's fury is like a hum, like a swarm of hornets converging on someone who was stupidly throwing rocks at their nest seconds before. She's suddenly nostalgic for those moments five seconds ago, with just Hidan.
Kakuzu stands up and the tiny room suddenly seems even smaller. It's overfilled, between these two overpowering men and her. She wouldn't be surprised to see the falls-nin's head brush the ceiling. It doesn't, of course. But still.
Hidan twists her wrists again and she cringes, but Yugito looks at him and doesn't think he's even really paying attention to how he's hurting her right now. He looks excited, pink tongue wetting his lips, breathing faster. He's not glad, exactly, that his partner is here. But it's activated him.
"Cut that out," Kakuzu says, and his voice is even, which is even more terrifying. All that control, probably perilously fraying. Because of her. Yugito shivers and knows that Hidan's felt it, from the way his gaze shifts for a second down to her, and the way he smiles. He's happy she's afraid. Revelling in it.
"Hey, ragdoll," Hidan barks, half-laughing. "What kept you?"
"Removing documents," is the terse reply. Kakuzu restlessly scans the room; her bag, her clothes, the half-gathered supplies. "Save it for later, Hidan. We don't have time for this."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Hidan sounds jovial, almost, like he welcomes his partner's fury. "C'mon, we're days behind already. It's not like an hour or two is gonna make a difference." He shifts on her, gestures down towards her with his free hand. "Aren't you mad, anyway?"
He's just silent. The creases around his eyes deepen as he glares first at Hidan, then at Yugito. There's this tremor under his cloak, a kind of tensing. If she'd blinked, she would have missed it. Even with her eyes wide, wide open she's not quite sure. Kakuzu is so still now he could be carved of stone.
"I mean, we had to come all this way, huh?" Hidan whips her up enough that he can tear the wound cloth from her hair and rip the plaited sections of her braid undone. He uses his fingers to comb pale gold down her back, over her shoulders. He lets her up a bit and holds her, sort of gentle, and she's nervously glad for it--except that he's dragging her into his lap, between him and Kakuzu. "All because of her, right? Pein's not gonna like that. It's like... like a failure, right? Mission botched."
"Delayed," Kakuzu says. And his deep voice is so quiet, so steady. It's terrible to hear, like that beat of a moment before a storm breaks.
"Yeah, well, what-fucking-ever. It's all the same."
Kakuzu looks them both over. Yugito squirms, moving her hands to let the blood back in - the fingers feel swollen and tingly. Trying to make a run for it, she thinks, would be a bad idea. It would just delay the inevitable pain. But she still can't stop herself from shooting a compulsive, longing glance towards the window.
That seems to decide him. "Hold her," Kakuzu says, and Hidan's suddenly pulling back on her arms, seizing her so that one hand holds her elbows together and the other her wrists, again. She's flexible around the shoulders but she still has to arch to maintain a modicum of comfort. Hidan pulls her backwards against him, snickering in her ear, and hooks his ankles around hers to pull her legs apart.
She's barely started to struggle when Kakuzu is on her, dragging at her shirt until it's up over her head. Yugito thinks for a second he'll leave it that way, leave her blind, but he finishes the motion, pulls her shirt all the way so it's bunched around her upper arms and can't go any lower because Hidan's still holding her.
"Let go of her legs," he orders, and Hidan obliges; Yugito is relieved for a hysterical second until she realizes it's just to let Kakuzu take her pants off without tearing the fabric. She goes tight as harp wire all over when he drags her canvas trousers down and off, and then compulsively tries to relax. The more resistance preferred now, the worse it will be. But at his first touch, to the back of her knee, she panics and kicks him as hard as she can.
Hidan cackles in her ear. His hands tighten on her. "Shit!" he laughs, malicious and overjoyed. "Shit! Kitty's got claws, huh?"
For what it's worth, he jerks her back when Kakuzu's hand comes up--deep earth black, hardened--and saves her ankle from getting closed in a grip that probably would have shattered it.
Pale, fierce eyes burn up at her from between the mask and the hood. Beast eyes. So close, she can tell. So close to just letting go. He's hanging on to his reserve by a thread. There's just a paper-thin layer of calm sobriety left.
"Do it again," Hidan whispers in her ear, like a wicked conscience. He's excited. Jittering with excitement, holding so tight to her wrists she can almost feel the bones bending. When she doesn't respond he turns his attention to Kakuzu, and Yugito's eyes widen as Hidan sort of swaggers his body behind hers. Moves his hips, his shoulders, working the dress, even while he's sitting down and keeping her pinned. "You going to take that?" he purrs, all sultry and mocking. "Kakuzu. Hey, fucker, you so old you can't even control a little girl?"
Kakuzu doesn't even say anything. But he moves, so fast; he pushes them both backwards together on the bed and in a flash he's up in her face. Eyes pale, burning, furiously aggressive. Hidan's back hits the wall. He still holds her but Yugito slips down against his body a little, enough so that her shoulders torque painfully and she has to scrabble frantically with her heels to get back into an okay position again, desperately trying not to kick Kakuzu or even look like she's thinking about kicking him. She comes so close to just closing her eyes and hanging on, but blindness is worse. Being blind is worse, even with Kakuzu's gaze searing her.
He pushes up way close against her, like the personification of every bogeyman-nightmarecreature that ever scared her as a little girl. He sits lazily, with his legs apart, and slides his knees under hers to push her legs farther open. Yugito squeezes her hands hard into fists, tries to keep breathing. It doesn't stop her from jumping and throwing her head back when he touches her. Behind her Hidan curses, tightens his hands around her arms. Must've hit him in the face when she jumped.
Kakuzu's rough. He's not careful about fingering her, and his callouses are even thicker than Hidan's. Without saying anything he pushes at her, pushes into her. Through the blaze Yugito can't tell if it's one finger or two but it seems like she'll never be able to relax again, never take another full breath or unlock her face from the grimace it's frozen in. She gasps and gasps and keens a little, squirming and jerking against him.
"Scream and I'll sew your mouth shut," Kakuzu growls, the first sound in what seems like forever. Yugito believes him. She closes her eyes tightly, bites the inside of her cheek until blood fills up her mouth. Hidan noses into her hair, licks at her shoulder, his anger over being smashed in the face forgotten.
"C'mon," he whispers in her ear. "He likes it when you make noise. Scream. It'll be over quicker."
4/20/08.
Read Part 2
SO much credit should go to Alex-zk for being willing to indulge my silly OT3 and write it with me. She is unbelievably good and her Hidan is unbelievably, wonderfully, horribly deranged and I basically totally adore her and this would not have been anywhere near as nice without her. Go and give her some love. <3
Genre: Darkfic / Smut. Ish.
Warnings: M
Fandom: Naruto.
Notes: Going along with the AU-verse I'm slowly building where the zombie combi has to lug Yugito back to Akatsuki HQ because Zetsu is detained. What if she got away for even a few days and took refuge someplace? They'd find her, of course. *Contains Hidan in a dress. Because we really, really wanted to.
Yugito pulls off the hood once she's back on the temple complex, and through the guard's checkpoint. It's hot to keep her head covered up all day, especially in this sunny, warm country, but she doesn't want to be seen. Her sharp, pale face is distinctive amidst these people, and her hair shines like the bright edge of a candle-flame. There's enough people going around in cover that she isn't particularly remarkable amongst them. And if she sweats for her safety, well.. it's safety, at least. She's not going to flaunt herself. She wants to get out of this town alive.
The temple grounds are walled, with baths and a cafeteria and outbuildings; there are paths that go alongside the buildings, with awnings to shade them. It's surprisingly cool and dark on the grounds, because the sun is low, and its last beams can't quite make it over the compound's walls. She has to stop and blink and shiver to adjust to the sudden change, so different from the lively town she just left.
There are other women walking together on the paths, women on the run, like her. They trade nods as they pass her but tend not to smile. They're a closemouthed community, these women; Yugito hasn't made a friend, but she doesn't want to. Better not to form attachments to anyone she'll have to drop in a seconds notice, and she's going to be on the move again shortly, anyway.
She's been roomed in one of the outlying buildings. She plans to spend one more night here, in the tiny cell, taking advantage of the food and the baths, and then she'll start trying to make her way back towards Hidden Cloud. Or so she plans.
The air is cooling. Evening here is almost pleasant, and softly chilly, compared to the heat of the days. It's full of the echoes of workers going about their duties and chants being murmured beyond the thick, rusticated sandstone walls of the temple itself. Only the highest steeples are still being caught by the gold rays of the sun, the great bells shining black and bronze. They'll toll in an hour or so, as they do at the end of every day.
She can smell the gardens beyond the back walls, pungent rosemary and thyme, cooking herbs. This close to the temple, she can smell the rocky incense the holy women use too, and the grass that has been baked all day under the sun is fresh-scented now, coming back to life as the temperature drops bit by bit.
She makes her way down the last cobbles of the path to her tiny door, pushes it open and enters her dark, small cell.
And there is a scent here, too. One that's too faint for her to catch, really, but the cat in her head picks it up, and her thoughts fill for a moment with the phantom echoes of frantic, furious hissing.
She steps in, analyzing the aftertaste of that unease, trying to pursue it and tease out what's got her hackles suddenly up this way. Nothing is out of place; she doesn't have a roommate, it's just her tiny little space, a narrow bed with a window over it and a dresser with a basin. She drops her bag and is just turning when the door closes behind her.
Not a loud noise, but it makes her jump like a shot was fired; Yugito starts to turn around and she just barely catches a glimpse of the person coming at her before they're on her, slammed up against her, her up hard against the wall doubled over their knee slammed against her just below where her ribs end. Yugito doubles over, gasps, nearly throws up over the leg of whoever's pinned her - the impact is that bad. Her hands clutch uselessly against hard muscle. Pain rolls out from the point of impact. Stunning.
"What-" she gasps, eyes blurred with tears - and whoever's got her snatches a fistful of her long hair and drags her back, makes her arch against the wall. Caught off guard, she's susceptible to this kind of attack. Whoever's got her is stronger that she is. "Who-"
But she already knows, of course.
"Bitch," he hisses right against her ear, voice somewhere between a gleeful chuckle and an irritated snarl. "Bitch, bitch, bitch. Fucking took forever to track you down. Seriously."
His breath is hot. His whole body radiates this sort of prickling, thick warmth. He places this so-gentle little graze of a kiss against her earlobe, which is ridiculous, considering he's still got a grip on her hair that's making her scalp ache. Considering her head is still spinning, and her eyes are still watering from the strike with his knee. He pulls her away from the wall and then slams her back again. And again. The plaster must be cracking, she thinks, that's how hard she feels she's being forced against it. He does it one last time--shaking her like some wild dog with its teeth sunk into a little grass animal.
"Not that," he says, holding her like a dance partner as she keels forward against him, muscles trembling, gasping to get the breath back in her lungs. "Not that this whole thing isn't sort of fun, in a way. Been a while, you know? Things don't get away from us that often."
He waltzes her backward and dumps her on the tiny bed, and it's then that she realizes what he's wearing. Some of the shocked horror melts away into just shock. Her mind's a blank, for a moment or two.
What's funny - hilarious almost - is that he makes a scarily good-looking woman. Not that, not that his shouldn't aren't really too broad to pass under close inspection, or that his face isn't even sharper than hers... but he's pretty enough, with his features, to pass as a girl. It's in the mouth, which is ridiculously full. He'd pass, with a well-placed henge and a little careful dressing. In fact, the question as to whether he would pass or not is not even hypothetical, as the guard when she passed was still alive, the temple was not on alarm. He passed the gate check and wandered through all the rooms and now he's here.
She supposes she should think of all the lives that were probably saved, that these two men didn't just slaughter their way in. But honestly, she'd rather that they'd done that. It would have given her a warning.
Regardless. He gets a knee up on the bed and grins meanly down at her, and the silk of the dress he's wearing pulls tight across his belly. The dress is satinly long and red-and-white, luxurious, and his arms are bare - the arms are obviously male, all that sculpted muscle, he must have covered them up with some kind of scarf or shawl getting in. They're bare now, glimmering in the dim light that comes through the window.
With the dress pulled tight that way, it's really pretty obvious that he's not a woman. Yugito snaps out of it, starts to struggle up, still snatching pathetically at the air to reclaim the breath that was knocked out of her.
"Oh no you don't," he snarls, throwing his other leg up and across her. Hidan sits down on her belly with his knees up against her lower ribs, squeezing, and Yugito wheezes and gasps and squirms and clutches some more. "Kakuzu's pissed at you. Oh, man, so fucking pissed, you don't even want to know. Not," he leers, "that you're not going to find out. Seriously. The old bastard is a real stickler for our schedule."
He starts yanking at the collar of her shirt, trying to rip the fabric open, and even with her head spinning Yugito has the presence of mind to grab for his hand and try to twist the thumb back. Try to break a finger, distract him somehow, anything. No good, no good, even his hands are tense with raw strength, stronger than her.
He grabs her hand instead. Her wrist, and twists it just enough that pain spikes in her bone there too. He drops forward and presses the full length of his body on hers. "Me, I really don't give a fuck how long it takes. It's not the destination, it's the journey, right?"
She feels the hot touch of his tongue against her pulse. He closes his mouth over her pulse-point, wetting it, tenderizing it, until she's acutely aware of its flickering movement. She tries to twist away from his mouth, twist her wrists out of his hands.
He stops mouthing her and breathes a warm drought of air over her damp skin instead. "Later," he promises. "I'll have a taste of you again. Soon. Maybe."
Yugito squirms beneath him, but it doesn't do much good. He's bigger and heavier than her. Pressing her down. Pinning her with a lot of tense, hard muscle. She arches the wrong way and feels for just a minute how absolutely not female he is, through the dress, and recoils. She tries to sink down into the mattress instead of shoving away from it. Makes herself even smaller. Her body feels so miniature to her, suddenly. A fragile lightness. Maybe because he's right there, right over her. He's strong as hell. All this unbelievable power, hot and feral, bone and meat and will. Her bones feel delicate as reeds. Her skin feels too tender to her--too soft. Easy as a feather to rip to bits.
"You're blushing," he remarks. "Your heart's beating hard. I can feel it."
She glares up at him, hateful, with her lips drawn back from her teeth. Instinct tells her to spit and hiss and snarl, make herself intimidating to make it go away. Experience tells her, wait it out. Wait for an opening.
He's got one wrist in each hand; he passes the wrist in his right hand over and squinches it in so he's got her pinioned with only his left hand. Not that the grip lets up, oh no. Yugito tries it, she twists her arms but he's got her really good. Impressive grip strength. He props himself up on his left elbow and slides his free hand between their bodies and under the hem of her shirt to trace circles on her stomach with an unsettlingly light touch. She can feel him, now, hard and pushing at her, but his smirk isn't more uncontrolled than normal and his eyes are half-closed, lazy.
She pulls hard at her arms again, hisses through her teeth when he grabs her and pinches hard. Really hard, pulling up at the skin and then twisting it slowly. He's sliding down to lie on top of her, lying between her legs, all heavy blanketing warmth and she can feel sweat prickling on her upper lip and lower back. He slides his hand from her belly upwards and she cringes back. She has some idea where this is going, after all.
"Oh, c'mon," he says lazily. "You gonna just lie there and take it, after all this effort, bitch? I'm gonna get bored."
That hand makes it way under her shirt, and his rough, bare palm touches her flesh. His fingertips press in and down, like he's counting the spaces between her ribs, making his way up. There's a part of her that likes it, almost. Just for a confused second. A part of her that is so unsettled that it wants the reassurance of touch. Even his touch, wrong as it seems. Just anything to know she's still here. Still conscious. Alive.
The thick ruffles and lace-bits of the dress rasp silken over her as he shifts himself. His fingers find the bottom curve of her left breast and sort of press there. Tickle, oh-so-dangerously lightly. It's hard to tell when Hidan's on the brink of doing something insane and when he's not. She holds her breath and thinks--she doesn't know whether engaging is going to help her position or not. Sometimes talking to him just makes him worse. But she wants to distract him. She has to do something.
She relaxes. Makes herself relax. "So..." she says slowly. "So... you're... we're leaving? Now? You're taking me away?"
"Mmm." She can feel him grinning against the side of her neck. "Now? Nah. Not just yet. Gotta wait."
"Wait," she says. That sounds worrying. "For what?"
"Shit," he grins. "Guess you'll find out." He rolls his palm against her breast, smoothes at the skin as though he'd using his fingers to paint down uneven edges. He's all calloused on his hands. They catch on her smooth skin there, seeming almost to stick. He noses at her chin, at her jawline. Scrapes his teeth against her throat. Yugito tries to keep her breathing even.
"How long is it to... wherever we're going?"
"NOW you gotta ask questions? Fuck, I hate girls who talk in bed." He turns his head and bites her, hard, on the triangle of muscle where her neck meets her shoulder. "C'mon, keep doing it. Make me mad. Seriously."
She clasps and unclasps her fingers against his arms, nails leaving crescent-moon dents in the white flesh. "I don't..." she starts, but she's not exactly sure what she means to say. She's not sure she wants to say anything. Her silence seems just as likely to bring an attack as anything else she might do. It's all a big gamble.
"Come on," he urges, whispers, like he's really eager. Like he's really begging. "Come on. I want you to. Piss me off. I dare you."
"You're not already angry?" she asks, frowning. Her smooth brow knits as as his thumb and forefinger find her nipple, the softest part, and she can feel the cool rub of his ring on her flesh.
"Not angry enough. I told you, I don't give a shit how long this damn trip takes. It's just hi--" He stops speaking abruptly, lifts his head from where his teeth were clenched deep against her shoulder and sort of halfway sits up off of her, though he doesn't release her wrists. Yugito turns her head and watches a great, dark form slip heavy and smooth as a big cat through her cell's tiny window. And she's never seen so much anger, she thinks. It's in the pale eyes. In the air around him, like her Nibi's flames come up around her, when she loses control. Rage so thick it's fills the room.
But, she comforts herself, at least he's not in a dress.
Rage makes him bigger than ever, and darker. Yugito shrinks down and sort of wishes Hidan was on her again, covering her from that angry gaze. Kakuzu's fury is like a hum, like a swarm of hornets converging on someone who was stupidly throwing rocks at their nest seconds before. She's suddenly nostalgic for those moments five seconds ago, with just Hidan.
Kakuzu stands up and the tiny room suddenly seems even smaller. It's overfilled, between these two overpowering men and her. She wouldn't be surprised to see the falls-nin's head brush the ceiling. It doesn't, of course. But still.
Hidan twists her wrists again and she cringes, but Yugito looks at him and doesn't think he's even really paying attention to how he's hurting her right now. He looks excited, pink tongue wetting his lips, breathing faster. He's not glad, exactly, that his partner is here. But it's activated him.
"Cut that out," Kakuzu says, and his voice is even, which is even more terrifying. All that control, probably perilously fraying. Because of her. Yugito shivers and knows that Hidan's felt it, from the way his gaze shifts for a second down to her, and the way he smiles. He's happy she's afraid. Revelling in it.
"Hey, ragdoll," Hidan barks, half-laughing. "What kept you?"
"Removing documents," is the terse reply. Kakuzu restlessly scans the room; her bag, her clothes, the half-gathered supplies. "Save it for later, Hidan. We don't have time for this."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Hidan sounds jovial, almost, like he welcomes his partner's fury. "C'mon, we're days behind already. It's not like an hour or two is gonna make a difference." He shifts on her, gestures down towards her with his free hand. "Aren't you mad, anyway?"
He's just silent. The creases around his eyes deepen as he glares first at Hidan, then at Yugito. There's this tremor under his cloak, a kind of tensing. If she'd blinked, she would have missed it. Even with her eyes wide, wide open she's not quite sure. Kakuzu is so still now he could be carved of stone.
"I mean, we had to come all this way, huh?" Hidan whips her up enough that he can tear the wound cloth from her hair and rip the plaited sections of her braid undone. He uses his fingers to comb pale gold down her back, over her shoulders. He lets her up a bit and holds her, sort of gentle, and she's nervously glad for it--except that he's dragging her into his lap, between him and Kakuzu. "All because of her, right? Pein's not gonna like that. It's like... like a failure, right? Mission botched."
"Delayed," Kakuzu says. And his deep voice is so quiet, so steady. It's terrible to hear, like that beat of a moment before a storm breaks.
"Yeah, well, what-fucking-ever. It's all the same."
Kakuzu looks them both over. Yugito squirms, moving her hands to let the blood back in - the fingers feel swollen and tingly. Trying to make a run for it, she thinks, would be a bad idea. It would just delay the inevitable pain. But she still can't stop herself from shooting a compulsive, longing glance towards the window.
That seems to decide him. "Hold her," Kakuzu says, and Hidan's suddenly pulling back on her arms, seizing her so that one hand holds her elbows together and the other her wrists, again. She's flexible around the shoulders but she still has to arch to maintain a modicum of comfort. Hidan pulls her backwards against him, snickering in her ear, and hooks his ankles around hers to pull her legs apart.
She's barely started to struggle when Kakuzu is on her, dragging at her shirt until it's up over her head. Yugito thinks for a second he'll leave it that way, leave her blind, but he finishes the motion, pulls her shirt all the way so it's bunched around her upper arms and can't go any lower because Hidan's still holding her.
"Let go of her legs," he orders, and Hidan obliges; Yugito is relieved for a hysterical second until she realizes it's just to let Kakuzu take her pants off without tearing the fabric. She goes tight as harp wire all over when he drags her canvas trousers down and off, and then compulsively tries to relax. The more resistance preferred now, the worse it will be. But at his first touch, to the back of her knee, she panics and kicks him as hard as she can.
Hidan cackles in her ear. His hands tighten on her. "Shit!" he laughs, malicious and overjoyed. "Shit! Kitty's got claws, huh?"
For what it's worth, he jerks her back when Kakuzu's hand comes up--deep earth black, hardened--and saves her ankle from getting closed in a grip that probably would have shattered it.
Pale, fierce eyes burn up at her from between the mask and the hood. Beast eyes. So close, she can tell. So close to just letting go. He's hanging on to his reserve by a thread. There's just a paper-thin layer of calm sobriety left.
"Do it again," Hidan whispers in her ear, like a wicked conscience. He's excited. Jittering with excitement, holding so tight to her wrists she can almost feel the bones bending. When she doesn't respond he turns his attention to Kakuzu, and Yugito's eyes widen as Hidan sort of swaggers his body behind hers. Moves his hips, his shoulders, working the dress, even while he's sitting down and keeping her pinned. "You going to take that?" he purrs, all sultry and mocking. "Kakuzu. Hey, fucker, you so old you can't even control a little girl?"
Kakuzu doesn't even say anything. But he moves, so fast; he pushes them both backwards together on the bed and in a flash he's up in her face. Eyes pale, burning, furiously aggressive. Hidan's back hits the wall. He still holds her but Yugito slips down against his body a little, enough so that her shoulders torque painfully and she has to scrabble frantically with her heels to get back into an okay position again, desperately trying not to kick Kakuzu or even look like she's thinking about kicking him. She comes so close to just closing her eyes and hanging on, but blindness is worse. Being blind is worse, even with Kakuzu's gaze searing her.
He pushes up way close against her, like the personification of every bogeyman-nightmarecreature that ever scared her as a little girl. He sits lazily, with his legs apart, and slides his knees under hers to push her legs farther open. Yugito squeezes her hands hard into fists, tries to keep breathing. It doesn't stop her from jumping and throwing her head back when he touches her. Behind her Hidan curses, tightens his hands around her arms. Must've hit him in the face when she jumped.
Kakuzu's rough. He's not careful about fingering her, and his callouses are even thicker than Hidan's. Without saying anything he pushes at her, pushes into her. Through the blaze Yugito can't tell if it's one finger or two but it seems like she'll never be able to relax again, never take another full breath or unlock her face from the grimace it's frozen in. She gasps and gasps and keens a little, squirming and jerking against him.
"Scream and I'll sew your mouth shut," Kakuzu growls, the first sound in what seems like forever. Yugito believes him. She closes her eyes tightly, bites the inside of her cheek until blood fills up her mouth. Hidan noses into her hair, licks at her shoulder, his anger over being smashed in the face forgotten.
"C'mon," he whispers in her ear. "He likes it when you make noise. Scream. It'll be over quicker."
4/20/08.
Read Part 2