Mmm...angsty fluff.

[sketchysmile]

Who: Orochimaru, Kabuto and Sai
Where: School - Kabuto’s apartment.
What: Kabuto goes to deal with Orochimaru’s methods of leaving messages and comes away with what he knew he would. Meanwhile, Sai worries and denies it, to lead to extreme mother hen behaviour when Kabuto does arrive - and consequently fluff.
When: After school, a Friday afternoon, one will assume. Or Kabuto’s skiving! O:!
Warnings: Sex, angst, silly cute/fluff, mother henning.



As he headed to the science classroom, classes over for the day, his feet felt heavy. He didn't really want to think about why, because in his mind, there was no reason, was there?

Why was he dreading this?

Better question--why was he doing this? It was stupid, Sai could take care of himself (except when he couldn't), and could make his own decisions about who he had sex with.

He wasn't jealous (honestly, he wasn't, but), however. . . . he felt compelled to see Orochimaru. To talk to him about it.

Had to be done, right?

Opening the door to the classroom, he stepped inside, and looked at his sensei. He shut the door behind him.

"Sensei, there is something we need to discuss."

As classes were over, Orochimaru was working (yes, believe it or not, he did do work), and glanced up from the notes he was making from one of the advanced textbooks - too advanced for High School - to see Kabuto.

Well, this was a most unusual surprise. He was not expecting Kabuto - nor a discussion of any sort. His pen rested in the fold of the notebook as manicured fingers dropped it there carelessly - smoothly.

He did not get up. He did not see the need to.

"Yes, and what might this be, Kabuto-kun?" Orochimaru, actually, had no idea what this could be about - in fact, Sai hadn't crossed his mind at all.

"I don't question your affairs sir," he said, crossing into the room, moving towards the desk. "But recently, something happened and I was concerned that you were doing it out of spite towards me." He looked into the man's eyes. "Sir, if you are. . . displeased with me for some reason, I ask that you not take it out on others."

Orochimaru drummed his fingers on the table lightly, nails shining against the sterile light of the science lab that was so much like a hospital environment.

"I've no idea what you're talking about, Kabuto-kun," he replied smoothly, reclining back in the stool lazily. He did know exactly what Kabuto was talking about now, and had to school his face from revealing a smirk, it seems his message had gotten through. It was a shame there wasn't an easier way to handle it - well, not for Orochimaru.

Kabuto didn't need to see the smirk to know it was there. He'd been playing these strange games with Orochimaru for far too long, and while he couldn't always guess at his sensei's motives, he could usually wager a fairly accurate guess.

Kabuto raised an eyebrow. "Sensei. . . what exactly were you trying to tell me by hurting Sai. It seemed fairly. . . redundant, and unnecessary."

By now, Orochimaru was examining those nails- remembering how they dragged down the young teen's back, breaking skin, it took effort, but Orochimaru enjoyed inflicting pain.

He glanced up when Kabuto started talking again, locking his eyes on the younger man's. "Well, on the basic level, I was merely relieving frustrations on a nice toy I paid a generous price for, if there are reasons deeper than that, I should need therapy to discern them." Again a lie - he knew exactly what message was being sent, Orochimaru didn't like when his toys found their own toys, it meant a lack of amusement for him.

Something riled Kabuto about hearing Sai called a toy, although he wasn't willing to understand why.

"I would appreciate it if you stopped carving your messages for me into the backs of others though, Orochimaru-sama."

Orochimaru laughed, standing up and circling the desk towards Kabuto with that predatory air he pulled off with aplomb. "So what do you suggest I use, Kabuto-kun?" He asked as he stopped next to the teen.

There was something about Orochimaru that still made Kabuto want to submit, and it was appalling and appealing at the same time. He looked straight into Orochimaru's eyes, face and body not betraying him. He'd had too much practice.

"I am sure you can think of other ways to address matters," he said.

Orochimaru was always impressed with Kabuto's mask; sometimes it could even fool him.

But not this time.

"Tell me," he started, drawling the words out as his fingers trailed down the side of Kabuto's face, nails moments away from grazing the skin into angry red, "would you be as bothered if I'd left my messages on another person?" There were many examples; Orochimaru didn't need to supply one.

Kabuto's lips parted as Orochimaru's nails grazed across his skin, anticipating the pain, waiting for it. He took a deep breath, and caught Orochimaru's wrist, and narrowed his eyes.

"I am not sure what you are saying, sir," replied Kabuto. "You only used him because I would notice. Someone else I wouldn't have noted."

The parting of Kabuto's lips was not missed and Orochimaru's eyes flickered down to them momentarily. He smirked at Kabuto as his wrist was caught, easily wrenching it back, a little harder than necessary perhaps.

"Isn't that the point of a message, to be seen?" He leaned in closely, breath shuddering over Kabuto's face as he hissed out the words. "It would be fruitless to try and give you a message if you weren't going to notice it."

Kabuto felt his will collapsing against Orochimaru's stronger will, and silently cursed himself for still being so weak against the other man. His bag slipped off of his shoulder and to the floor, wordlessly submitting to Orochimaru, and hating himself for how it felt like second nature.

"There are other ways of catching my attention, if you wanted it so much," he said quietly.

Their experience was too vastly different. Regardless of all one could say, Kabuto was still a teenager - and Orochimaru had far more years on the boy. Far more knowledge.

His nails dragged down the fabric covering Kabuto's arm, lightly - forewarning what was to come.

"But nothing would have been quite so successful in amusing me."

Kabuto barely suppressed the gasp that followed the nails; it was light but he could read a deeper, more sinister meaning in it. Sai. . . this was something that Sai could not really give him, and he had thought perhaps, he did not need or want it. He was wrong.

"Amusing?" he asked, smirking. "I didn't think Sai amused you so much."

Ah, it was almost too easy to make them bend to his will. Orochimaru's hand moved to the buttons for Kabuto's jacket, nails still trailing along fabric, hitting skin almost accidentally - pressure increasing slowly.

"Not so much him, as your reaction." That was indeed amusing.

Kabuto laughed bitterly. "I didn't think I was that amusing, Orochimaru-sama," he said. Kabuto's hand reached for Orochimaru's suit. He could anticipate the pain coming, and it should have frightened him (he had seen what the man had done to Sai, just as a message to him), but it didn't.

Orochimaru liked the bitterness in Kabuto's laugh and when he felt Kabuto's hand on the fabric of his suit jacket he didn't stop or look down, beginning to pull away buttons on the uniform with ease.

They weren't about being nice (at least, Orochimaru definitely wasn't), and he crushed his lips against the teen's, free hand bruising whatever skin it could reach.

Kabuto wouldn't have known what to make of Orochimaru being nice. It would have been entirely too strange and foreign a concept. He moaned into Orochimaru's kiss, lips parting for the other man, hands fisting into the suit. He wanted Orochimaru to claw his skin, bite him, hurt him. . . . and he knew, regardless of that, when he stepped into the room, this was what was going to happen.

His hands unfisted, and headed towards Orochimaru's tie, swiftly undoing it with a seemingly practiced ease.

This was strangely routine for them, the hard touches, the deliberate pain, but it went deeper than before - why? Perhaps something to do with Orochimaru's irritation - he most definitely did not like his toys being taken away (such a child).

Kabuto wasn't taken away--if Orochimaru wanted him, he would comply; it was just in his nature. His feelings for Sai aside. . . . Orochimaru had more power over Kabuto then he would ever willingly admit. His hands worked at the buttons of Orochimaru's shirt, desperate and wanting. He hated himself for this weakness, loathed it, but did it anyway.

Sai shouldn't have to suffer punishments not really meant for him.

The horizon outside was getting dark, and there were books splattered over the table as a ball point pen rolled clumsily across them, the owner of the pen sighing heavily as he stood up, going through the door that led into the kitchen. He'd left Kabuto's dinner in the oven when it was clear he was late, but by now it'd be cold and Sai may as well start the dishes now.

He could no longer think, and art was out of the question. He felt horribly restless as he started the water, brushing his hair back several times, behind his ears, into his face, back out of his face...

Where was he?

Kabuto clawed at Orochimaru's skin, fighting against Orochimaru's tongue as he was kissed. Kindness was a luxury he shared with Sai, and no one else. With Orochimaru, it was pain, sweet and harsh. There was a time when sex meant nothing to Kabuto but pain. It was strange now; he could feel himself craving it, unlike before, when it had just been one more duty to perform.

Well, this was certainly new. Orochimaru smirked at the unexpected development - well, there was one thing he could thank Sai for...

Clothes were shed quickly, nails digging into flesh, a lot more controlled than Kabuto's claws - taking charge even when blinded by a new-met lust.

Kabuto cried out against the nails digging into his flesh, arching against Orochimaru. His own fingers dug into Orochimaru's skin, nothing like what was done to him, but Kabuto did it anyway, lusting for something that he didn't know he could--would lust for.

What had Sai done to him?

Scrub, dry, stack away. Repeat. The motions were carried out intensely and his eyes concentrated on the china he held tightly between slightly shaking hands. It was like he'd drank too much caffeine or something, but he rarely drank caffeine...

Every third dish he'd glance out of the window to the skyline, watching it steadily change.

Something had changed since -- since then. Sai couldn't put his finger quite on what but it couldn't be that Kabuto knew who it was, because that would logically mean that... and that definitely wouldn't happen... would it?

For a moment, briefly, Kabuto thought of Sai. But a fresh onslaught of pain delivered to him by Orochimaru's nails drove that away. He broke away from the older man's lips to moan, pain mixing with a twisted sort of pleasure as they played out their sickeningly twisted game.

Orochimaru loved those sounds, they denoted control and he made a point of making sure he heard many of his... lovers making them.

It was all very much... quicker, than usual, bodies caught up in a feeling that for once, wasn't really one-sided. Orochimaru's fingers working harsh touches everywhere - he could, maybe, be gentle, if it suited him, but one did not exert authority by gentleness.

Gentleness did not suit the relationship that he shared with Orochimaru. It was all nails and claws and teeth and pain. Whatever feelings he had for Orochimaru might have been mixed up in there as well; respect, fear, hate, desire. He wanted Orochimaru to hurt him, liked it, needed it in some way that he couldn't really understand.

Whatever commands were wordless or breathy, barely capable of being heard, had it not been so silent. Had it been anyone else. Kabuto knew most - if not all - of the nuances and body language when this game was played. What certain things meant and so on.

Submission. He was meant to submit, and he could, he would. Anything the other wanted, he would give, or let be taken. It had been that way for quite some time.

He could no longer really remember the first time he had learned these things.

His hands went to Orochimaru's belt, unfastening it slowly, fingers so familiar with the action that he didn't need to think about it.

Nothing here was about thought, not when everything else focused so solely on it- this was where they reverted back to something simple - something without the stigma of reputation or reason - if only for a moment, at its shallowest level.

Really, it was all about the stigma.

Kabuto's nails scratched against the straining fabric of Orochimaru's pants before he unzipped them, letting them fall to the ground. He was too proud to go to his knees. His teeth grazed against the skin of his sensei's shoulder and his hands moved on Orochimaru, fingers both stroking and scratching the skin of his erection.

Orochimaru enjoyed receiving pain, not quite as much as giving it, but a fair amount. He hissed lowly at the scratches, nails digging into Kabuto's sides as he pushed down the teen's trousers easily, pressing against him, pressing him into the desk.

Kabuto's pants fell off of him as he was backed against the desk, legs parting a little as his did. His hands remained on Orochimaru, stroking him. There was no lube, and he knew this was going to hurt more then usual because of it. (Momentarily, he cursed that he only ever rode his bike to school, that would be an unpleasant trip home).

Usually, Orochimaru was prepared for these instances, but that would mean looking through discarded clothes and there most certainly wasn't the time to break the heat of the moment for it - it would all be lost.

Orochimaru's well-cared for fingers pressed into Kabuto, nothing slow or teasing about them, stretching him mercilessly.

Kabuto cried out, letting go of Orochimaru's erection and bracing himself on the desk. It hurt. There was nothing gentle in the touch, or subtle or slow.

Heh, perfect. Orochimaru smirked as he bit the base of Kabuto's neck, continuing to pound him with his fingers, pace fast and he slipped a second and third in with one movement,

His fingers dug into Orochimaru as he bit down against the scream building in his throat. It wasn't pleasureful, not really, and yet the pain was something familiar to Kabuto. It had been long associated with pleasure, and although the pain never really left, he was able to derive some harsh pleasure from it. His groans were loud and full of the pain that he was feeling, and he didn't care who heard him.

The fingers in his skin only served to make his actions temporarily harder, pulling out soon after when he deemed the teen 'ready', breath heavy as he drew away from his neck, sucking on the flesh, taking away the blood from the bite.

If there were tears in his eyes, he did not notice them. His cries were loud and painful, and when Orochimaru bit down on him, it only caused him to cry out more. His breath was ragged and erratic, unstable and wary from all the roughness and pain.

Orochimaru noticed, knew, with every movement of the other's, finding his lips again to bruise them with a harsh kiss as it finally happened and he took Kabuto like so many times before - but there was something so different about this.

Kabuto's voice was muffled as Orochimaru forced his way into him, breathless scream as he felt the other inside of him, hard, rough, unkind and uncaring. This was just sex. This was just sex.

When he realized the meaning of that, it was too late, and he was clinging to Orochimaru, moaning and gasping, his fingers leaving angry welts on Orochimaru's skin.

That strange pile of clothes that seemed to live on Kabuto's floor now had gotten a lot tidier. Sai smoothed down one of the many tops of his that seemed to have appeared at the apartment, getting the creases out as best as possible before folding it.

It was then he realised that he didn't actually know where the iron and other laundry things were - yet he'd left his washing here.

Anything to concentrate on, to just get rid of the restlessness and that stupid, nagging question that kept churning at the pit of his stomach.

He didn't have enough breath left to scream, what came out was soundless, breathy gasps of pain mixed with sadistic pleasure. He felt his hips rocking against Orochimaru, and he tried to cry out in pain, finding that he had nothing left to voice his cries with.

It no longer mattered, as Orochimaru followed something familiar, desire - a stupid and easy thing to give into and he did. Frequently. It made life simple, and gave him the required power over some who got too far up themselves.

One of his hands slid off of Orochimaru's back, and surprised at how hard this had gotten him, Kabuto stroked himself. He needed the release, Orochimaru inside him alone was not enough, his erection begged for attention that Kabuto knew Orochimaru wouldn't give. His cries became more pleasureful now, bucking against Orochimaru.

That was an arousing, and definitely surprising, thing. Orochimaru's breath was heavy and he would have taken the time to smirk or be superior, but there was none in the world of lust, it was all about the driving force that made him want this all - just for long enough...

Kabuto stroked himself harder, faster, and felt his toes curling as he reached his climax. He cried out, tired, sore, and aching from this, his body shaking from the intensity of the moment, shuddering against Orochimaru's body as the older man continued thrusting into him.

This was much more fun than before - Orochimaru came a few moments after Kabuto - a few thrusts later, deep inside of the teen.

There was some reason behind this but he'd forgotten what.

Kabuto was panting, hard, still shaking from his release, his hand sticky and slick with it. There was not a part of him that felt whole or unhurt, and yet he felt oddly at peace with it. For the moment. It was sure to change.

There was the moment that brought them from reality - panting, sweating, mind not quite at work - but it only lasted a moment.

Orochimaru leant against the desk with one hand to catch his breath before he searched for his clothes - strewn about the lab uncaringly.

The desk was a mess--he was a mess, and idly he wondered how many times this had happened here, to him, to others, and Kabuto knew that he has to move. It hurt, he hurt, and with shaky limbs, he got up and headed to the nearest sink--that was the advantage to fucking in the science room, there were sinks, and there were some paper towels. He didn't want to think about the mess on the desk, there was probably blood in it--his blood, and Kabuto had no desire to think about that at the moment.

Orochimaru pulled on his clothes, looking down at the mess with distaste- he'd have to make sure that was clean... but in a moment, he still needed to look the part of a respectable man - even if he was anything but.

Kabuto quietly cleaned himself up enough that he wouldn't ruin his clothes. He'd need to do laundry, but that could be later, after he spent some time in bed, sleeping and ignoring the world. Slowly, gingerly, he put on his clothes.

Now decent, Orochimaru set to work removing the mess, leaving the top practically spotless. Practically because he left the smallest amount - a reminder, for both of them. (Which both he was thinking of it was unsure).

Kabuto looked at the spot, memorizing it. It was some sort of morbidity that made his do it, he was sure. He looked at Orochimaru, coolly. "I trust that your messages will not be sent through a middle man anymore." Broken he may have been in some way, but he retained some air of confidence about himself, that he was not even sure how he kept it. Long practice, perhaps.

"Of course not." The truth - he wouldn't use a middleman for any messages any more. If Kabuto chose to interpret anything as a message... well, that was his doing and not Orochimaru's.

"Leave Sai out of our business," he said. That sounded threatening. Possessive. Definitely not typical Kabuto.

Orochimaru rose a brow - the only sign that it shocked him. "Possessive, aren't we?" He replied, tone almost mocking.

Kabuto thought it over for a moment. "No more then you are of me," he said. There was a bit of truth to that, he supposed.

Orochimaru gave a harsh hiss of laughter. "I suppose that's true. Now run on home, little one."

Kabuto bit his tongue, and said nothing, grabbing his bag and limping out of the classroom. It had gotten dark, and he needed to get home yet. He was hungry, and tired, but he'd sleep first. It was the weekend. He didn't have to worry about getting up in the morning.

Riding his bike home was less then pleasant. He did not sit at all.

Sai was back to doing homework by now - clothes folded and piled neatly into a corner of the bedroom as he looked at problems and words he wasn't reading, listening attentively (though he didn't recognise it) for the sound of the door opening.

Kabuto entered his home, kicking off his shoes in the genkan, bag dropping to the floor. He did not register Sai's presence; he just headed for the bedroom for sleep, not caring that he looked like he'd just been fucked up in more ways then one. He was tired and sore; he wanted the world to fall away.

When he noticed Sai there, he said nothing, and continued on into the bedroom, stripping off the jacket and shirt.

He almost immediately responded to the click of the lock, looking over, standing up as he saw Kabuto enter. Oh thank God...

His eyes flickered over Kabuto, registering his appearance. He... no, he couldn't, this had to be coincidence.

"What happened?" He asked, moving over to Kabuto swiftly.

"Nothing," said Kabuto, opening the door to his room. "I just want to sleep."

Sai almost bristled, but kept his cool. "That's hardly nothing. What. Happened?" He repeated, standing by the door, staring down Kabuto with a strangely calm look - too calm for what he was... feeling?

"Look, I'll be fine," he said. "Thank you for your. . . concern, but I'm much more used to this then I look, and I just need to lay down, ok?" For a moment, it looked like he was going to. . . touch Sai, but he didn't.

Gritting his teeth, Sai's eyes moved down to the fresh scars. "You're at least going to have them cleaned up." He didn't care whether Kabuto had... no, not at all. (So why couldn't he complete that thought?)

"Fine," said Kabuto. "But if you don't let me get to my bed, I will fall over, and hardwood is not exactly comfortable." He stumbled on into his bedroom.

Sai sighed and let Kabuto in, following behind - the first aid kit was in here, after all. He looked around for it, finding it quickly, trying to discern why he had this strange pain in his chest - like something was constricting his breathing.

Kabuto fell on the bed. He groaned, and he hurt, lying on the bed. He had the strange want to curl up and apologise to Sai--but he had done this for him, hadn't he? In some perverse way, hadn't this been about putting himself on the line so that Orochimaru would leave Sai alone?

The look Sai gave Kabuto was almost pitying as he sat next to him, pulling out the necessary things from the kit, pursing his lips for a moment before licking them.

"... How did you know?" He asked quietly as he began to work on the scars, softly, otherwise quietly. What Kabuto had said earlier made it quite implicit, but there was still that smidgeon of doubt that Sai was... clinging? on to.

Kabuto snorted. "I've done it countless times myself," he said. "I just didn't like that it had been done to you."

So he was right. Sai's hand slipped for a second as that hit him and he brushed against one of the scars a little harder than he intended to with the alcohol-soaked cotton pad.

"What did you hope to gain from this?" Really, Sai couldn't see a reason. He knew why he'd suffered it...

Kabuto winced, sucking in a breath. ". . . . . I wanted him to leave you alone," he said. It was truth; he wasn't going to lie about that. Yet. There was no reason.

Blinking, that again shocked Sai, but he rose his hand before he slipped again. He felt... touched, in some perverted way, by that. But Kabuto really didn't have to - it was a one time thing (wasn't it?) That made him feel slightly irritated and he stared hard at what he was doing as he cleaned up a few more cuts, having taken care of the worst ones with the alcohol.

Kabuto was quiet, lying there. After a while, he reached out and touched Sai, whatever part of the other teen was in reach. Kabuto had no reason to that he could discern, he just. . . wanted to feel the other's presence.

Sai looked from the hand on him to Kabuto's face, eyes travelling up slowly as he placed the blood and alcohol-soaked pad to one side, picking up the ointment and beginning to work with that.

"You... didn't have to," he finally replied.

"I know," said Kabuto.

As he worked with the ointment, he tried to figure out why he'd done it if he didn't have to... mind only resting on one thing - he'd enjoyed it, really. It wasn't like it was any of Sai's business, not like he should care... this was still only (what was it?) But still, that thought did not make him feel any comfort (is this what it's like to feel betrayed?)

"If he. . . . bothers you again," said Kabuto, he voice cold but angry, "you let me know. I. . . don't want him closer to you then necessary." The was a touch of. . . possessiveness in Kabuto's voice.

"What? So you can go off and have this happen again?" Sai replied, gesturing to the injuries on Kabuto and there was a strange emotion strangling his usually calm tone.

"Better this happens to me then you," said Kabuto.

Sai's grip tightened on the bottle of ointment, continuing to dab the cotton-wool covered in ointment on Kabuto, just a couple more scars.

"It was for the money. He wouldn't touch me again." At least, Sai didn't think. It seemed Orochimaru-sensei had been ignoring him lately anyway.

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Kabuto. "He doesn't give up so easily." I don't want you hurt, an unspoken thought. Giving it a voice would have made him sound weak.

He was finished, apart from the bandages, which he quickly moved to apply. "Are these all?" He ignored what Kabuto had said. (He didn't want Kabuto hurt any more than Kabuto wanted to see him hurt).

"I think so, yes," he said. He wanted Sai to. . . . . well. Sai would do what he wanted. Kabuto closed his eyes, his hand squeezing Sai's knee. "Thank you."

Smiling, it was a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless; Sai tidied up the things, standing up to put it away.

"Do you want something to eat? I made you something for dinner, but it's definitely cold by now." 'And I'm not much of a cook.'

"I should probably eat, yes," said Kabuto. "I'm sure it'll still be okay cold. I'm not picky."

Saying nothing, Sai skirted off into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a plate of food. It was cold, and it was presented well - though the time it spent uneaten kind of ruined that - but Sai knew it didn't taste fantastic. He was better at the presentation side (surprise, surprise).

Kabuto didn't really care how it tasted, food was food. He struggled to sit up, taking the plate, wincing as he sat up, and slowly ate.

Sliding onto the bed next to Kabuto, Sai pushed the pillows up under him, trying to make it more comfortable. (It was what a person did for someone they cared about...) He was going to stay the night - it was usual, but there'd be something unusual about the night itself... it was fine. Fine... apart from everything had messed up somehow. Life was simple, a time ago, when there was school and work and nothing to care about-- but then...

What was Sai doing? He stopped eating, and glanced at him. . . . He was confused. The usual feeling that he got when looking at Sai wasn't there, it was replaced with an ache that was not the typical lust. Kabuto decided it was because he was in pain and hurt, but something told him that he'd been starting to feel this, it was just hidden in the lust.

He had opened his mouth to say something, but said nothing. Instead, he returned to eating the food he wasn't tasting, and ate.

Sai managed to hold back the chastising. He felt like he needed to mother Kabuto right now and he didn't know why. He surely didn't need to tell the other to get rest - he looked exhausted anyway.

He curled his legs under him, waiting for Kabuto to finish eating.

It took a while, but Kabuto did eventually finish the food. He felt sick, but not from anything he had done--just mixed feelings. Kabuto had never been adverse to feelings, he just never really expressed them (and usually the feelings were contempt, respect, and a little adoration, sometimes a little familial love; he cared about his grandparents, just not in a very show or defined way). He fell back down to the bed, unconsciously reaching for Sai, not really caring if the plate was taken away or not.

Mmm? Sai reached for the plate, putting it on the bedside table before he moved towards Kabuto. He should change his clothes or something... but it was alright.

Lying down next to Kabuto he was careful not to touch him, and reached up to brush the other teen's hair back out of his face. "You... I don't understand you."

"I think I'm a fairly simple creature," he said. He pulled Sai close, not caring if it hurt a little, just wanting his. . .friend (yes, friend. He could admit that he'd made an actual, not superficial friend) close to him, resting his forehead against Sai's.

A little surprised, and very tentative about being so close, Sai softly laid a hand on Kabuto's chest. "Maybe that's why I don't..."

Ahhh, what was it about Sai. . . . ? Kabuto closed his eyes. "I'm sorry that I confuse you," he said softly.

Sai blinked at the apology, but smiled to himself. He couldn't recall Kabuto ever apologising for anything. Even if it was sort of silly. "Tch, I probably need to think more - or less - than I do. Maybe."

"You think too much about what you're supposed to be thinking about," said Kabuto. Very lightly, he kissed Sai. "Stop."

Strangely enough, he listened, and it managed to relax him a little, kissing back softly. "...Alright."

He liked this, being close to Sai. It was comforting and that frightened him, but it didn't matter for the moment. Wincing, he lifted a hand to brush Sai's hair away, and he slowly half opened his eyes to look into Sai's eyes.

Sai noticed the wince and his hand moved, trying to stop Kabuto from moving. "Don't," he instructed. "You'll just hurt more."

"But I want to," he said. "I don't care."

Sai scowled. To be fair there wasn't much heart in it, and that was obvious. "I do. You don't need to hurt any more than that. Stay still." It was only after he said this that he realised what it sounded like (when did he start caring?)

"...................." Kabuto was not used to taking orders from Sai like this, and he put his hand down, finding it in himself to smirk.

"Why Sai," he said, "I never knew you cared."

Clearing his throat, Sai was very grateful that he just managed to stifle a blush. "Hn. Don't think too much of it." Even though it was purely because he cared... and on some level he knew that but he didn't want it to be true.

"Oh but Sai, I'm touched," he said, sensing the weakness he seemed to have found. He chuckled, and kissed Sai again. "I won't let it go to my head too much.”

Sai grumbled to himself and rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand, trying to get rid of the heat he felt building. "Good. If your head got much bigger you'd not be able to lift it." Sarcasm, of course.

"Sai. . . are you feeling all right?" asked Kabuto. He was grinning now. This was kind of. . . amusing. "Your cheeks are turning red."

Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the blush again. "Yes. I'm fine."

"Mmm," he said. He closed his eyes, and mumbled something, the words 'care' and 'too' mixed in there somewhere, but not entirely clear.

Sai didn't really catch that, and just dismissed it. "Shh, sleep," he murmured, pressing his lips against Kabuto's forehead softly.

Kabuto nodded, eyes closed, arm possessively around Sai. He soon started to doze off, comfortable and secure near Sai.

Sai was rather tired, but he didn't fall asleep immediately - partially watching Kabuto, to make sure he was comfortable, but mostly because he was wondering when he started to care so much - he wouldn't go this far for just anyone...

Dozing fell into sleep, and as Kabuto slipped into unconsciousness, a small smile formed on his lips.

Sai fell asleep a while later, staying as close to Kabuto as he'd feel comfortable doing - slightly wary about hurting him if he got too close.

Kabuto woke up sometime later, stiff and wanting a shower, desperately. Gritting his teeth, he stiffly got up and away from the bed. He felt used and disgusting. (He'd never felt like that before. It was strange.) He shook his head, and grabbed a towel, heading for the shower.

Nhhh? Sai yawned as the movement stirred him awake, looking out through the window - still slightly dark. Ugh. He wanted to sleep but...

He sat up, realising they'd never actually gotten under the covers and he was still in his clothes, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before lying back down on the bed, which smelled like alcohol and ointment with a trace of blood (lovely), wrapping his arms around himself as he lay on his side, staring in front of him blankly.

Kabuto spent some time in the shower, gingerly trying to clean himself. It hurt, and he couldn't even reach his back. . .

The length of time was getting ridiculous and Sai could still hear the water running, so he stood up, rather reluctantly leaving the comfortable bed, and slowly padded over to the bathroom, knocking on the door before entering.

"I'm just getting a shower," said Kabuto. Sure, it was taking longer then usual, but the hot water felt good. His mobility might be low, but if his memory served him correctly, he'd be less stiff in a day. It would hurt but he should be able to move much more. . .. he was just sleep stiff, right. Right. . .

Sai exhaled rather loudly and he pulled off his top and trousers, walking over to the shower and holding his hand out for the sponge. "Let me."

Kabuto sighed, and handed Sai the sponge wordlessly. This was. . . horribly embarrassing. He could take care of himself.

Sai wasn't thinking about that at all and took the sponge, beginning to work at Kabuto's back slowly, rubbing the sponge into circles along the skin, feeling the water softly spray against his skin, dampening his hair.

Kabuto gave into the monotony of the motions, the relaxing feel of water and Sai washing his back. It was comfortable, nice. He hated being taken care of, but. . . . he’d allow Sai this.

A while later he was finished, handing back the sponge and planting a small kiss on the side of Kabuto's mouth before he started to head back out, moving to pick up a towel to get rid of the spray of water that had left him damp.

Kabuto was left a little bewildered by Sai. He shook his head, and spent a few more moments in the shower before getting out, and grabbing the towel to dry off.

Now dried, Sai had started to get dressed, leaving his clothes in the bathroom - taking a change of clothes from the pile he'd folded last night. He sat on the bed, pulling out a short sleeveless top with spikes over it - strange, he'd never even worn this around Kabuto... or the rest of the outfit, actually, as he pulled out a pair of black shorts and a belt with material draped around the back to look slightly like it had belonged to a coat.

Kabuto came back into the bedroom, towel around his waist, and looked at Sai, and shook his head. "Looks nice on you." He dropped the towel, and headed under the covers--he would just sleep today. That was the plan, and he would stick to it.

Sai nodded, smoothing out the shorts. He should probably go home... really.

"Mm, I should probably go." Partially because he hadn't been home in a couple of weeks.

"Why?" asked Kabuto. Sai just seemed to. . . live here, anymore. "Where to?"

Sai flicked his legs onto the bed (yes, because this was leaving), wrapping his arms around his knees. "Because I pay rent at that place, I think I'm meant to use it." That place being, of course, his apartment.

"Oh," said Kabuto. "I suppose. . . ."

"Mmh... I guess it can wait for a while." Sai leant forward a bit, burying his face in his arms before turning his head to look at Kabuto. It could. He just needed to check on the place, that was all. He didn't have anyone who would get in touch with him if there was a break-in.

". . . . . You could just stay here," Kabuto said, yawning. He was. . .surprised at the thought, but. . . it made sense. Sai was here often enough anyway, might as well save on rent too. . . . there was room. (This was probably the sleepiness talking).

Sai looked at Kabuto in surprise, wondering if he was being serious.

... Was he? Now that was slightly strange. What was stranger was that it didn't seem strange. Sai'd've expected himself to find the idea too odd to consider - even if he never went there, his apartment meant relative privacy.

So why wasn't he bothered about the prospect of not having it any more?

In the silence that followed, Kabuto realized what he said, moaned. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Stupid idea. Don't know why I said it. . . must be more tired then I thought. . ."

Sai lifted his head up from his arms slowly. He should... respond.

"... Mmm... Yeah... I could..." He muttered, looking away from Kabuto.

"Well. . . up to you, then," said Kabuto. "I don't really mind either way."

"Nhh." That meant most likely, but Sai did not like the prospect of firmly agreeing to it. Either way he didn't move off of the bed yet.

Kabuto shrugged. He'd stay or he'd go. He wanted Sai to stay.

Sai turned over, rolling onto his stomach and lounging over the covers idly. He'd stay...

Kabuto reached over, and patted Sai, and sighed. What had he been thinking? Dammit, that man. . . .

Sai glanced over at Kabuto, making a small noise that meant nothing contentment. He thought for a moment. "You going to try and sleep?" If he was, then... Hm. Sai would need something to do.

"Probably," said Kabuto. "Usually a day of bed with getting up for food is about all I do. I should be functional tomorrow."

"'Kay." Sai rolled off of the bed, looking on the floor that was piled with his junk for something. (His sketchpad and a pencil).

Kabuto watched Sai roll off the bed, and look around for something. He was lying on his stomach (back still hurt, and would for a while), and closed his eyes a little, resting quietly.

Finding what he wanted, he slid onto the bed with as little movement as possible, flicking open the sketchbook (newly purchased) to a random page - all of them were blank, for now - and began to draw idly.

So he was staying with him? Kabuto didn't have the energy to tease Sai about this, and he didn't want to admit that he liked the company. Sai was quiet, and if he needed something, like, actually needed something, Sai would probably help him out.

Probably.

Had Kabuto tried to tease him, he'd just remind the other that he suggested it in the first place. His hand skimmed across the page as lines were drawn quickly and quietly - he'd been meaning to draw this for a while. It was just sadly twisted that he'd decide to now...

Kabuto didn't care what Sai was drawing. He drifted somewhere between consciousness and sleep for a while, not caring about much of anything, really.

Sai looked over every now and again, for reference he didn't really need - he'd already memorised... but that was another story.

He rested his head against the pad once the drawing was finished and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes.

"Mmm?" said Kabuto, stirring. He was thinking that there was soup somewhere, and it needed eaten. And he would do the soup the favor of eating it.

Looking up, Sai tilted his head questioningly, his body asking the questions his mouth didn't. (What? Are you sure it's a good idea?)

"You made some noise, I thought something was wrong," he said, sitting up. He winced, obviously his body still hurt but there were things that needed done. Like food making. He got up, and found a pair of pants, and groaned as he had to bend to put them on.

"No, nothing." Sai shook his head needlessly as he watched Kabuto. He didn't really want to help him put on his pants, if only because it would be beyond inappropriate.

It would--just because it hurt didn't mean he couldn't do it. And if Sai tried to help, he would have snapped at him for it. Kabuto headed to the kitchen, hoping there was something edible in there.

Sai put the sketchbook to one side, lying back on the bed as Kabuto left. Some paranoid part wanted to follow him but Sai decided against it.

Kabuto found some bread, and ate that. There was no food here, really, that needed changed. He sighed, and headed back to the bedroom, lying down on the bed.

"I need to go shopping."

Sai folded his arms behind his head as Kabuto came in, looking up at the ceiling. "Mm?" Had they really ran out of food?

"Well. There's really not a lot of food here," he said. "Should get some things, basics or something. . .I'll do it later."

Hm. Sai moved towards Kabuto slowly, lying next to him and gazing down his chest quietly. "I can take care of it."

"Hmm? You don't have to," said Kabuto.

"..." 'But I should,' (I want to). Sai said nothing, though he opened his mouth for a moment, thinking the better of it and closing it after a second. His hand moved into his hair, twirling a strand of it lazily, a habit he'd picked up a while back.

Kabuto sighed. As if he could sense the other's argument, he shook his head. "I suppose you could come with me, if you must," he said, at last.

Sai made no reaction to that - it was a silent and still acceptance of that term - and he closed his eyes, inhaling the smell of Kabuto, familiar, warm... somehow.

Kabuto looked at Sai, and ran his hand through Sai's hair, wincing less then he had before. It hurt more, now, in that achy and stiff way, but he could deal with it better for the moment. Sai. . . yes. It was good that he was here. He rested his forehead against Sai's, and closed his eyes.

This wasn't the time to question anything - Sai found himself not wanting to question anything, he was quite satisfied feeling like this without any reason he knew of. He moved against Kabuto a little more, making sure to be careful with the studded jacket.

What words could not, would not ever say, lips could. Kabuto pressed his lips against Sai's softly, kissing him.

Sai sunk into the kiss and pressed his lips back against Kabuto's, fingers lightly curling around the older teen's shoulder - he... his train of thought cut off there. Thoughts he didn't want to think about right now because they were too hard for him to discern and he couldn't give a damn about the future or the contemplations - he was too wrapped up in the... feeling of the moment.

Kabuto kept kissing Sai, not really sure where he was going with it, just enjoying the way that Sai tasted, the feel of the other pressed against him, everything. Kabuto didn't care about much of anything outside of the immediate at the moment, and the immediate was Sai.

It... couldn't go anywhere right now - that was one thing Sai knew definitely. His tongue still licked against Kabuto's lips, asking for them to part, their bodies pressed together causing him to shift a little, squirming against Kabuto with a slight amount of happiness.

Kabuto's lips parted easily for Sai, just wanting to kiss, to be kissed. He didn't care that it could go no where--that hardly mattered when there was nowhere for it to go. Kabuto didn't even care if his thoughts were making sense anymore, it was just. . .there was Sai. And that was good enough.

Sai was no longer thinking - thinking meant he'd have to contemplate the strange things he was feeling and he didn't want to do that at all. Not now. Not ever, preferably.

He brushed his tongue against Kabuto's, his free hand running through the other's hair slowly, just feeling the texture, feeling everything about him (he wanted to know it...)

The knew each other, but did they. . .know each other? It was one of those deep questions that he could have dwelt on for hours, in the right company. It seemed, that now, Sai was the right company.

He pulled Sai a little closer, his tongue licking and sliding against the other's, moaning a little.

Sai’s hand moved to the back of Kabuto’s neck, wrapping his arm around the other’s neck as his tongue twined with Kabuto’s, fingers twisting in Kabuto’s hair softly. His thoughts were blissfully blank - at least, they were not interfering with him, making him more confused.

Kabuto was ignoring confusion--confusion was for the weak minded, and he was not weak minded. Perhaps he didn't understand what made him want Sai, want to kiss him, to touch him, but not understanding was not the same as confusion.

Kabuto's leg wrapped round one of Sai's, not caring about the little aches so much.

Sai made a small noise into Kabuto's mouth, pleasure muffled by what was causing it as they wound up tangled together. He pulled away a few moments later, needing to breathe, but not moving from the embrace. (Rather incapable of it anyway).

Breathing heavily, Kabuto stayed where he was, tangled up in Sai, fingers playing with his hair. He said nothing (there was nothing to be said), just was quiet, breathing, thinking. Always thinking.

Sai had given up thinking by now- it would only make things stranger, make him have to concentrate on things he would not, could not, understand. He kept the silence - it was comfortable, fitting for them. The touches to his hair were making him forget about thinking anyway.

Kabuto agreed, silence was fitting for them. They hardly talked anyway. Both of them were fairly adept liars, so words were meaningless to them, or at the very least, pointless. Actions speak louder then words.

Perhaps recent actions confused matters a little, but then maybe others served to reinforce thier meaning. He hoped.

Their actions had been all over the place recently. Sometimes it was perfect... calm. Amicable. That was the word. Then... there were the moments like the night before- the few weeks previous. Possessive, cold. And Sai didn't want to fathom what it all meant right now.

There were a few explanations that Kabuto could come up with, each as undesirable as the next. He didn't need another weakness in his life, and the one that Sai presented was troublesome at best.

Music, new music, new songs, new instruments, that had been his weakness before. And now. . . well.

Kabuto would be the first to admit he was possessive to a fault, but he hadn't realized it until now. He ran his hand through Sai's hair, quite thoughtfully, wondering when the game had ended.

Weaknesses... Sai didn't want to think of having any, though he probably had many. Was Kabuto a weakness? Sai... was having trouble seeing how. He glanced down, looking thoughtful as he tried to measure it up. In some ways, yes - Sai shouldn't... didn't want to... go out of his way for anyone, but he had. That was a weakness. He was a strength because... because...

Sai sighed - he didn't know how - and buried has face in Kabuto's chest.

There was something alarming in the way that Sai just buried his head against Kabuto. He sucked in his breath, not betraying the pain that he felt as he moved to comfort him.

Sai looked up as soon as Kabuto sucked in the breath, eyes narrowed slightly. He'd... somewhat forgotten, he would admit...

Kabuto looked down at Sai, questioningly, no need to voice the thoughts in his head when eyes were just as communicative. He raised an eyebrow, and waited for some sort of a response.

Shaking his head slightly, Sai moved it from Kabuto's chest - a sign of 'it doesn't matter'. Kabuto should just... forget that.

"What?" Kabuto broke the silence, there was something that Sai was hiding, and he didn't like it.

"...I forgot, that's all." He had forgotten - how exactly he'd managed to was beyond him, it was just a move of... instinct? (If he felt more he'd realise to be more alarmed by the implications of that).

"Ahh," Kabuto replied. He rested his eyes--realizing his fingers were more tightly wound into Sai's hair then he though, and exhaled deeply. There was a peacefulness here, and it was.. . . nice.

Sai didn't really mind the tightness, it was just before the border of pain and he lay down in the tangled embrace as best he could, closing his eyes.

Kabuto didn't fall asleep right away, instead, he slowly drifted into a light sleep.