Rubber Duckie Time.

[curious_motive]

Who: Kabuto & Itachi
When: Post-Auction, Thursday Evening
What: Kabuto wants to groom his new "pet".
Why: He's kind of fucking weird, okay?
Where: Sasuke's apartment/bathroom.
Status: ONGOING.

Comments

[curious_motive]

"Good evening, Itachi," Kabuto chirruped brightly, undeterred by the blank, impassive expression on the Uchiha's face.

He understood quite well that Itachi didn't like this and wouldn't like this-- this offense to his dignity and autonomy-- and as a result, Kabuto was a little curious as to how far he could actually take things before he felt resistance.

He was also aware that any "submission" he received was actually just an expression of pride.

Kabuto didn't mind. He'd take what he could get.

And try not to pick at Itachi as much as he picked at Sasuke. Pushing the younger was a game. Pushing the elder could be dangerous.

"If Sasuke's home, then you might want to send him out for the evening." Kabuto pushed his way into the apartment, one hand on the door as he stepped into Itachi's personal space. My, that felt familiar, and the physical reminder, the memory, suddenly reminded him exactly why he'd dropped fifty-five thousand dollars for this privilege. "For his own benefit, that is

[curious_motive]

"No, not particularly." Kabuto seemed mildly surprised at this, and he seemed to pause as though considering why Itachi would even say such a thing. "I expected you'd be insubordinate and stubborn, and you are. There is, by the way," he added, now chuckling, "such a thing as being too accommodating. Just because I expected it doesn't mean you had to prove me right. Very thoughtful of you, though."

Kabuto smiled, and forced every ounce of naivety he possibly possessed into it. He knew that wasn't the game Itachi was playing, not at all, and his smarmy faux-innocent look only highlighted that.

He also glanced toward the filled tub, then tapped a finger against his lips thoughtfully. "But now I'd really like to give you a bath, and if you could be accommodating regarding that, that would be perfect."

[darkreddreams]

The sarcasm dripping from Kabuto’s voice was unmistakable. If it were to be anyone else, they probably would have something else to say about It but all Itachi was to keep silent and let his hands rest on the row of buttons on his shirt.

Placing his index finger over to third button (he usually kept the first two open), he undid the button and let the shirt open a bit more. He went on to the next, keeping his blank stare at Kabuto. By the time he reached the end of the row of buttons, he left an exposed trail of skin, as though giving the other male a sneak into the muscular body covered by the fabric.

Then he let the shirt slide off his shoulders while his stare remain fixated on the “master”.

OOC: Decided that we should just move on. Their little tug of war was getting a bit too em.. excessive?

[curious_motive]

"Oh..." Kabuto made a strange, breathless sound at the first flash of skin, so genuinely surprised that he couldn't catch it despite immediately regretting the slip. He was trying to be in control here-- of himself, if not of Itachi-- and that little unexpected noise was backpedaling.

With all the struggle to get this far, he had to go and sound like that! Kabuto swallowed down the flash of irritation at himself with another sip of wine, and when he looked up again, his eyes were narrowed and his lips were pressed into a tight little smile.

Eyes up. He felt safer returning Itachi's steady stare than in letting himself be distracted again, at least until he felt a little more secure with himself. "Pants as well, please."

[darkreddreams]

Itachi caught the small noise the escaped - probably unintentionally- from Kabuto’s lips. The quiet, confined space probably amplified the noise for his ears as well. Kabuto probably was reprimanding himself in his head, so Itachi decided to let the chance to taunt him pass. Plus, overconfidence normally led to demise and Itachi wouldn’t want to lose something that he hadn’t even started yet

[curious_motive]

He is trying to fuck with us.Credit where credit was due. Kabuto had to acknowledge that it was working fairly well; while he was maintaining enough self-control for his own dignity to stay intact, he couldn't manage to suppress the heated flush rising up into his cheeks, or his quick breathing, or the way the pupils of his eyes dilated as he watched

[darkreddreams]

The sound of Kabuto’s hips hitting the edge was loud, probably amplified by the space. Itachi had long stopped looking at him directly despite all curiosity to see the changes in Kabuto’s reaction. Instead, he relied on his hearing to figure out Kabuto’s slight fidgeting and his quickening of breath. He let none of his knowledge show through

[curious_motive]

That was the ultimate question, wasn't it? How good was that vaunted self-control?

"You know," Kabuto started, not moving any closer. He was held rapt by the sight in front of him: Itachi showing all the outward signals of vulnerability-- undressed, exposed, head back, throat bared, eyes closed-- without ever losing for a moment that exterior display flawless self-assurance. It wasn't trust; it was sheer arrogance and courage. He made Kabuto feel like he wasn't anyone of any consequence, like he was the servant. Perfect.

He lost track of where his original thought ended and it showed in the way his voice had trailed off. It didn't matter. Kabuto tried again from a different point, a safer point.

"You had no idea, do you? I think it's interesting that you never really ask. Of course..." He finally did step closer, considering if sitting on the edge of the tub would be risky. What's he going to do to you? Coward! His shadow fell across Itachi's face and he watched closely for a reaction. "...I probably wouldn't give

[darkreddreams]

He could hear the slight steps that Kabuto took as he left the edge and proceeded towards him. He just kept his serene face as though nothing had happened as Kabuto edged even closer. The way Kabuto trailed off told Itachi that his student lost his train of thought half way - probably through watching him. But those didn’t matter for now

[curious_motive]

"No." That finally galvanized Kabuto into action and he quickly settled on the edge of the tub, one leg tucked under him and the other foot on the floor. He reached for Itachi's wrist, gently trying to interrupt.

"Please..." That was a change of tune, the way he dragged that word out a little breathlessly. "Please, sir, let me. I..." God, his mouth was still so damned dry. All that silky dark hair. Exposed skin. He couldn't just watch. "I really want to do this for you."

The phrasing was important. He didn't want to sound like this was just for him, and he'd tried to make that clear already. However, he still couldn't blame Itachi for being suspicious, or for being irritated at the invasion of his privacy.

[darkreddreams]

Itachi turned his head towards Kabuto while still letting his light grip on his own wrist. He locked his own pair of eyes into the younger’s for a moment before removing his gaze and looked downwards on, fixing on a point on the white floor tile as though thinking. He kind of expected something like to happen. He knew that his “master” for the day could never keep the hands to himself. The breathlessness in Kabuto’s voice only signaled a beginning of a somewhat downward spiral -unless Kabuto had achieved another new level of self control.

He looked directly as Kabuto again before removing his wrist from Kabuto’s hand before beginning, “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

[curious_motive]

"Not this time," Kabuto agreed, desire tightening his throat. He was aware of the fact that those words probably sounded pretty grim and almost threatening, but that didn't matter. What mattered at the moment was getting his own way, even if Itachi was just humoring him.

The whole thing seemed a little sketchier by the moment, and Kabuto had to swallow down the bitter irritation that flashed through him; isn't this sort of thing illegal in most states? his conscience taunted, forcing your will on someone-- oh, that's graceful! Well done!

Shut up! It wasn't rape, for god's sake.

It was just...a little...game.

Harmless.

"Don't worry," he murmured. "I can be good."

He dipped his hands in the water quickly, then shifted his weight so that he could more easily reach all of Itachi's hair and slid his fingers through the dark, slippery strands gently. Focus. Kabuto's attention narrowed to this one simple act. He didn't pull or scratch; he pressed the pads of his fingers firmly against the other man's scalp and simply began

[darkreddreams]

It was really good.

Not that he would admit it out loud, but the way Kabuto was working on his scalp was stress reliving to say the very least.

Actually, it was perfect.

Itachi found himself closing his eyes once more and relaxing to the way Kabuto’s fingers (so that was the difference between someone who knew massage and someone who did not) worked around his scalp and that his head - with those constantly tightened nerves and the ever working brain - was subconsciously leaning towards those fingers which seemed to promise more comfort.

Kabuto really caught him this time. There were a few things that Itachi really loved and one of them was his own hair which explains why he spent so much time and effort to make sure it was in tip top condition. And generally any good treatment to his hair perked up him up significantly. And Kabuto was not just giving good treatment to his hair, the way he skilfully intertwined his fingers onto Itachi’s hair as he shampooed them was amazingDespite the fact that he wasn’t intending to praise

[curious_motive]

Kabuto raked his fingers free from all that gorgeous hair, separating out the strands and detangling as carefully as he could; he flicked the excess lather from his hands and then combed through from underneath behind Itachi's ears. There were often trigger points in that area...and if anyone seemed like a candidate for headache relief it was this poor bastard.

Everything came in small pieces of information, relayed from hands and eyes to mind and assimilated without thought. Here...and here, those were the tense spots, and Kabuto let his fingers linger for a long moment as the pressure worked the tension from the muscles. He glided his thumbs down the top of the trapezius then started again from the top, repeating the movement over again. The shampoo actually made this more difficult. He couldn't get enough traction to have full use of his strength; his hands just slipped when he pressed too hard

[darkreddreams]

Relaxing.

Itachi could tell that he had some problems due to the slipperiness of the shampoo because there were times that his hands were slipping off the spots. But it didn’t matter - overall it was still all good . He loved how Kabuto actually gave his hair the due attention. All in all, he found himself enjoying the experience and possibly wanting more - but of course the desire was that an idea in his head rather than a craving.

He almost turned subconsciously to look at Kabuto face to face when he heard him - soft but yet loud. But he realized that Kabuto’s hands was still on his head at that moment and decided to instead tilt his head slightly towards Kabuto and stared at him.

[curious_motive]

"Ah..." Kabuto's mind stuttered to an awkward stop when those dark eyes looked up at him through their fringe of lashes, reality sliding sideways for a moment. He'd been safe when he'd been wrapped up in only thinking about what he was doing, concentrating on the sequential steps his fingers needed to take to accomplish this task, but that steady stare unraveled his assurance and control in one devastating second.

He groped for something close to common sense despite the pure white noise roaring in his head and the animal instinct rising to meet the awkward silence with its own desires.

"Please?" Oh, that hadn't been the right way to say that at all. He'd been trying so hard not to sound like that. Kabuto was sure he was blushing and with great effort he pulled his eyes away from Itachi's to stare at the floor for a second, regain some measure of composure. "Or would you like me to do it for you...sir."