Categories > Anime/Manga > Naruto > Payment
Orochimaru clenched his teeth, drawing in another sharp breath. That wasn't supposed to go there. It was to be the other way around. As his body tensed, he dragged his nails over Itachi's smooth back.
"You will pay for this..." The Uchiha only laughed, body bowing over his compatriots as his nails dug deep into the older man's thighs, redoubling the force behind his strokes and focusing wholly on the sound of their bodies. All the muscles in Orochimaru's body clenched, his face finally contorting to betray the discomfort the younger one put him in. He dug his own nails in deeper, trying to elicit some expression from that impassive face. Nothing. Itachi remained stoic--despite his efforts. Blood ran along the muscles of his spine--blending with the fine sheen of sweat that glossed over his musculature. He was not giving Orochimaru a reprieve. Orochimaru pulled his hands back, letting his fingers slide over the other's sides, smearing streaks of blood as he went. He tightened his legs around Itachi's, giving a sharp twist of his waist to throw the young star to the floor. Now that was a surprise. Itachi went to the floor on his back with a resounding thud, the carpet stinging the deep ruts along his spine. His first thought, humorously enough, was about how the housekeeper would have a fit over the blood-stains. Orochimaru took no time in reversing the situation fully. Planting his hands on the other's shoulders, he repositioned himself to return the Uchiha's previous actions. He ensured he was none too gentle with the initial thrust. There was a flinch--though it was barely obvious--just a swift, momentary pinch of the muscles about his eyes. Itachi, ever dead in tone, however, only goaded him on.
"..is this all you've got?" Orochimaru tightened his grip on those smooth shoulders, digging his fingers into the flesh, driving the heels of his hands into the joints. He didn't say anything, his yellow eyes focused intently on those loathsome silver ones, his hips unrelenting. Itachi wouldn't endure it too long--and rocked his hips up, curling his spine to flip their positions entirely--and was quick to pick up where he'd left off--savage in his motions.
"You need to be taught how to behave," Orochimaru hissed between clenched teeth. "You're nothing more than a spoiled, annoying brat."
"And you need to be humbled." Itachi was undeterred, bowing his head so that his teeth found the juncture of the serpent's head and shoulder, tearing flesh beneath with abandon. When the Uchiha's chest met his, Orochimaru flipped their positions once again. This time, he pressed a forearm to both chest and stomach, keeping the spoiled one's back pressed to the floor. He was not gentle with the pressure at all, nor was he even remotely close with the thrusts that followed. And he'd gained his first groan from the youth, as begrudging as it was. Pain seemed to be Itachi's pleasure, and in various forms.
And pain Orochimaru gave. His sharp elbows dug hard into Itachi's ribs and stomach each time he pushed forward. His fingers pressed against the skin, nails biting harder with each thrust of their bodies. Itachi relished it, fighting to keep the euphoria rising on his visage. Who would have realized what a masochist Uchiha Itachi was? Soon, despite himself, he was running his body back to meet each forward motion. Orochimaru didn't even try to hide the dark, twisted grin that spread over his face. He leaned foreward, his teeth finding their way to the soft portion of skin and muscle where neck and shoulder joined. Once found, he took no hesitation in applying a crushing force. Payback. Some part of the singer was darkly amused--but for the most part, he was too far gone to care about the damage done--pain, sweet and glorious, burst across his vision in a sanguine haze, sending shocks that caused his muscles to seize. Orochimaru's jaw tightened, fingers pressed harder, breath coming quicker, shorter. Oh how he enjoyed inflicting such pain. So many flinched at a small bite or pinch. Claws and teeth weren't needed with them. Orochimaru had grown bored with them. But this one exicted a passion in him that he hadn't felt in far too long. Itachi made him work. And even now, he was rising again, pressing against the vicious arms that were forcing him into submission, striking like an animal for his paramour's throat, his legs pressuring his waist with bruising intent. Orochimaru released Itachi's neck when he felt the other reach for his. He grinned down at the young star, that sadistic grin unwavering on his lips.
"Who said you could have a turn?" Itachi's teeth just missed, and glanced over his Adam's apple as he rocked his body forward, defying the hold upon his rippling framework. His tone was breathless, and not quite as flat as he would have liked it.
"When have I ever cared what you said?" Feeling the one under him try to force his way up, Orochimaru pressed down harder with both arms, elbows digging harder.
"You'd better start caring for you are very much indebted to me."
"Doesn't mean I have to cordial." Itachi went back against the carpet again, feeling the fbers pull against the dried blood on his skin. The agony in his brought on another guilty shiver of pleasure, his breathing becoming more difficult.
"Who do you think you're fooling?" Orochimaru's grin widened, seeing that shiver. "You can drop the tough guy act. You've lost." To punctuate his words, he gave an extra hard thrust. Itachi sucked in air through his teeth, spine arching against the ruined carpet, and his arms grasping Orochimaru's own, nails and fingertips biting into his flesh. Orochimaru didn't pull back, staying there, buried deep inside the pop star. He maintained the pressure to hold him to the carpet, but didn't dig anything in. He just leaned on his forearms. He leaned down, nipping lightly at that collarbone, just above that well chiseled chest.
The Uchiha's will was breaking, and he was all too aware of it, but what more could he do? His body ached, and burned with need, and letting go of pride.. he begged for cruelty. For pain, for torture. His gentleness was murder.
"You will pay for this..." The Uchiha only laughed, body bowing over his compatriots as his nails dug deep into the older man's thighs, redoubling the force behind his strokes and focusing wholly on the sound of their bodies. All the muscles in Orochimaru's body clenched, his face finally contorting to betray the discomfort the younger one put him in. He dug his own nails in deeper, trying to elicit some expression from that impassive face. Nothing. Itachi remained stoic--despite his efforts. Blood ran along the muscles of his spine--blending with the fine sheen of sweat that glossed over his musculature. He was not giving Orochimaru a reprieve. Orochimaru pulled his hands back, letting his fingers slide over the other's sides, smearing streaks of blood as he went. He tightened his legs around Itachi's, giving a sharp twist of his waist to throw the young star to the floor. Now that was a surprise. Itachi went to the floor on his back with a resounding thud, the carpet stinging the deep ruts along his spine. His first thought, humorously enough, was about how the housekeeper would have a fit over the blood-stains. Orochimaru took no time in reversing the situation fully. Planting his hands on the other's shoulders, he repositioned himself to return the Uchiha's previous actions. He ensured he was none too gentle with the initial thrust. There was a flinch--though it was barely obvious--just a swift, momentary pinch of the muscles about his eyes. Itachi, ever dead in tone, however, only goaded him on.
"..is this all you've got?" Orochimaru tightened his grip on those smooth shoulders, digging his fingers into the flesh, driving the heels of his hands into the joints. He didn't say anything, his yellow eyes focused intently on those loathsome silver ones, his hips unrelenting. Itachi wouldn't endure it too long--and rocked his hips up, curling his spine to flip their positions entirely--and was quick to pick up where he'd left off--savage in his motions.
"You need to be taught how to behave," Orochimaru hissed between clenched teeth. "You're nothing more than a spoiled, annoying brat."
"And you need to be humbled." Itachi was undeterred, bowing his head so that his teeth found the juncture of the serpent's head and shoulder, tearing flesh beneath with abandon. When the Uchiha's chest met his, Orochimaru flipped their positions once again. This time, he pressed a forearm to both chest and stomach, keeping the spoiled one's back pressed to the floor. He was not gentle with the pressure at all, nor was he even remotely close with the thrusts that followed. And he'd gained his first groan from the youth, as begrudging as it was. Pain seemed to be Itachi's pleasure, and in various forms.
And pain Orochimaru gave. His sharp elbows dug hard into Itachi's ribs and stomach each time he pushed forward. His fingers pressed against the skin, nails biting harder with each thrust of their bodies. Itachi relished it, fighting to keep the euphoria rising on his visage. Who would have realized what a masochist Uchiha Itachi was? Soon, despite himself, he was running his body back to meet each forward motion. Orochimaru didn't even try to hide the dark, twisted grin that spread over his face. He leaned foreward, his teeth finding their way to the soft portion of skin and muscle where neck and shoulder joined. Once found, he took no hesitation in applying a crushing force. Payback. Some part of the singer was darkly amused--but for the most part, he was too far gone to care about the damage done--pain, sweet and glorious, burst across his vision in a sanguine haze, sending shocks that caused his muscles to seize. Orochimaru's jaw tightened, fingers pressed harder, breath coming quicker, shorter. Oh how he enjoyed inflicting such pain. So many flinched at a small bite or pinch. Claws and teeth weren't needed with them. Orochimaru had grown bored with them. But this one exicted a passion in him that he hadn't felt in far too long. Itachi made him work. And even now, he was rising again, pressing against the vicious arms that were forcing him into submission, striking like an animal for his paramour's throat, his legs pressuring his waist with bruising intent. Orochimaru released Itachi's neck when he felt the other reach for his. He grinned down at the young star, that sadistic grin unwavering on his lips.
"Who said you could have a turn?" Itachi's teeth just missed, and glanced over his Adam's apple as he rocked his body forward, defying the hold upon his rippling framework. His tone was breathless, and not quite as flat as he would have liked it.
"When have I ever cared what you said?" Feeling the one under him try to force his way up, Orochimaru pressed down harder with both arms, elbows digging harder.
"You'd better start caring for you are very much indebted to me."
"Doesn't mean I have to cordial." Itachi went back against the carpet again, feeling the fbers pull against the dried blood on his skin. The agony in his brought on another guilty shiver of pleasure, his breathing becoming more difficult.
"Who do you think you're fooling?" Orochimaru's grin widened, seeing that shiver. "You can drop the tough guy act. You've lost." To punctuate his words, he gave an extra hard thrust. Itachi sucked in air through his teeth, spine arching against the ruined carpet, and his arms grasping Orochimaru's own, nails and fingertips biting into his flesh. Orochimaru didn't pull back, staying there, buried deep inside the pop star. He maintained the pressure to hold him to the carpet, but didn't dig anything in. He just leaned on his forearms. He leaned down, nipping lightly at that collarbone, just above that well chiseled chest.
The Uchiha's will was breaking, and he was all too aware of it, but what more could he do? His body ached, and burned with need, and letting go of pride.. he begged for cruelty. For pain, for torture. His gentleness was murder.
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