[Naruto] Right Hand
Title: Right Hand
Author: runespoor7
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Orochimaru likes his boys prettier. [OroKabu]
Kabuto’s not really as pretty as the boys Orochimaru usually favours. Or if he is, he is uncannily good at not looking the part. Orochimaru hasn’t decided yet.
Nothing could make Sasuke less pretty than he naturally is; Kimimarou, even on the brink of death, still possessed the ethereal grace that had attracted Orochimaru to him as surely as his precious bloodline limit.
Often, there’s something very boy-next-door to Kabuto, a quality that Orochimaru wouldn’t appreciate so much if, equally often, he didn’t see Kabuto move like a silvery chakra blade, in and out from between someone’s ribs, pressing himself against Orochimaru in dark corners of his deepest hideouts.
It is courteous of Kabuto to show him how swiftly he can shift from one behaviour to the next; sometimes swiftly enough that the only warning Orochimaru gets resides in the click of a scalpel set down, and the next moment when Kabuto turns around, Orochimaru sees behind the boy’s lenses the things that make him smile.
Orochimaru responds in kind, stretching impossible smiles and settling contentedly into his seat. He does Kabuto the courtesy of treating him as more than the pretty, dangerous power-thirsty trinkets he likes to see dangling at his wrists, sucking on the droplets of his blood he allows them and following his words like a precious tune, the pretty vessels he fits inside with a deft, careless shrug, encasing himself in their soul and body smoothly - more cat-like than snake-like. He takes that which he wants as if he was entitled to it rather than slithering in.
Kabuto is more than that, trustworthy, treacherous and ultimately indispensable; a part of Orochimaru’s body.
Orochimaru finds exotic allure in it.
Author: runespoor7
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Orochimaru likes his boys prettier. [OroKabu]
Kabuto’s not really as pretty as the boys Orochimaru usually favours. Or if he is, he is uncannily good at not looking the part. Orochimaru hasn’t decided yet.
Nothing could make Sasuke less pretty than he naturally is; Kimimarou, even on the brink of death, still possessed the ethereal grace that had attracted Orochimaru to him as surely as his precious bloodline limit.
Often, there’s something very boy-next-door to Kabuto, a quality that Orochimaru wouldn’t appreciate so much if, equally often, he didn’t see Kabuto move like a silvery chakra blade, in and out from between someone’s ribs, pressing himself against Orochimaru in dark corners of his deepest hideouts.
It is courteous of Kabuto to show him how swiftly he can shift from one behaviour to the next; sometimes swiftly enough that the only warning Orochimaru gets resides in the click of a scalpel set down, and the next moment when Kabuto turns around, Orochimaru sees behind the boy’s lenses the things that make him smile.
Orochimaru responds in kind, stretching impossible smiles and settling contentedly into his seat. He does Kabuto the courtesy of treating him as more than the pretty, dangerous power-thirsty trinkets he likes to see dangling at his wrists, sucking on the droplets of his blood he allows them and following his words like a precious tune, the pretty vessels he fits inside with a deft, careless shrug, encasing himself in their soul and body smoothly - more cat-like than snake-like. He takes that which he wants as if he was entitled to it rather than slithering in.
Kabuto is more than that, trustworthy, treacherous and ultimately indispensable; a part of Orochimaru’s body.
Orochimaru finds exotic allure in it.