FicWad

AN: Set about a month after A Winter's Tale.



"I'd appreciate it if you would do me this favor," Kabuto said as he handed her the slender golden vial. "You're always so helpful whenever I need testing done."

The tiny bottle was unexpectedly warm and heavy between Hinata's fingers and she closed them together tightly so he would not see them tremble. "U-umm...if y-you d-don't mind...w-what is it?"

He smiled down at her, cupped her cheek with his hand. "A simple aphrodisiac. Nothing harmful or frightening, but it shows promise as an interrogation tool, and since you've proven yourself to be so very tolerant with drugs and poisons...You're going to be my stress test, to put it neatly."

"O-oh. I-I see," she said, and mentally added in "torture" alongside "interrogation".

I made a promise and swore that nothing he asked would be beyond me, but each time, I can't help but think...

...that this will be the time when the fangs come out....

Hinata had not been surprised at all when Kabuto had called her away from her chores and led her to a quiet back room with a door that locked and a large bed: Orochimaru and Sasuke had left before dawn on one of their training trips, while Kabuto stayed behind to supervise the base for the two days that remained before they shifted locations again. Kabuto left to himself meant Kabuto dragging her off to bed (or a table, or a convenient wall, or the patch of glassweed in the herb garden that had left itchy scratches all over her shoulder blades until Kabuto took annoyed pity on her futile attempts to heal them and did it himself) at the first available opportunity.

He did touch her when the snake Sannin was in residence, but always confined himself to small, simple things: a quick brush of lips against the nape of her neck or gently rubbing the underside of her breast as he stood behind her, his body shielding the gesture from anyone unexpectedly visiting them. She never initiated contact, despite him insinuating several times that he would like her to: if he wanted it that badly, he could order it. He always got off and always made sure she got off as well, and it was bad enough that lately she'd found that she was touching herself while thinking of him...

"W-well....um....s-should I take my clothes off?"

The corner of Kabuto's mouth turned up, just a bit. "Not until you feel the need to."

The vial wasn't large, but it seemed to take a long time to completely drain the liquid, which tasted like burned sugar with vinegar undertones and smelled of crushed bugs and mint. She finished and put the vial down as Kabuto wiped away a stray drop that was clinging to her lip with his thumb. He caught her look and chuckled. "We found during preliminary testing that it doesn't absorb through the skin very well."

Hinata's internal shudder did not go out to her skin and for that she was grateful.

For a while it seemed like nothing was happening. She felt slightly flushed and unsteady, but that could easily be from nervous tension. Drops of sweat trickled down her side and back. She glanced at the room's one window, set high in the wall so no one could see them: it was open slightly and the day was a cool one.

Kabuto sat across with a pencil and notebook in hand, writing idly. It reminded her of the time right after she'd been captured during her escape attempt, when she'd been brought in to see him after she'd finally woken from her coma and he'd been sitting there drawing a diagram of her eyes; he'd cut into them while torturing her...

Her eyes were tearing suddenly, so she rubbed them. The soft skritch of Kabuto's pencil was starting to irritate her. Her robe was too tight and too coarse: Kabuto seemed to take a positive pleasure in keeping her dowdily dressed, except for when they went on "dates"; then he liked to dress her up. That kimono he'd given her for their first time together had been truly beautiful: she was still sorry he'd ripped it all up.

Kabuto stopped writing suddenly and looked straight at her; Hinata met his eyes. He looked entirely serious for once and a hot, sharp pain went between her breasts and spiraled down into her belly. He looked down and started writing again.

Her thighs and breasts ached. She rubbed one breast, tugged at the tip, but it didn't make the pain go away. Kabuto was chewing slightly on the inside of his lower lip: it seemed to be a genuine habit of his, as Hinata had caught him doing it several times since she had first come to Sound. His lips were always smooth, dry and hot and his mouth always tasted clean. A memory of that mouth between her legs, licking and sucking in long, slow strokes overwhelmed her and she stifled a cry.

It was their first time and she had leaned back against the gravestone with a fist jammed in her mouth and tears running from the corners of her eyes as he nuzzled between her legs, greedy but patient. "I want to make sure you're ready for me..."

Oh, when had she gotten so wet?

He was still writing and not paying the slightest attention to her. She was dying here and he was oblivious. That had to stop, now. Hinata lunged forward and ripped the notebook out of his hands.

"Hinata--!"

She pulled him forward to the bed, shoved him down and held his wrist with one hand while she yanked at his pants with the other. Her robe was easily discarded with a quick pull on her sash, her panties not so simple but she managed. Why hadn't she undressed at the first? It would have made things so much quicker. He started to say her name again, but he needed to lie down and be quiet so she could fuck him properly: when Hinata told him so, he choked on a laugh.

Despite her words he was still making noise but she pressed her mouth against his and took in the taste of his tongue and the way his hair felt between her fingers. She rubbed against the fabric that still covered his thigh: the friction was nice, but not nearly enough. She let him go so he could breathe and nibbled at his throat, admired the way the blue veins snaked across his pale skin. Pretty skin, not nearly as white as hers, but still very fine. She moved to his ear, sucked at the lobe as he was fond of doing to her, bit him lightly. He made a little sound, but quieted again almost immediately.

"Kabuto-nii," she said, nose pressed behind his ear as she took several deep breaths. "I can smell you."

"O-oh?" he said, his voice ever-so slightly unsteady. She knew it turned him on when she called him "niisan": why was he bothering to pretend it didn't? For confirmation she reached down and took hold of his cock, gave it a sharp squeeze: now he was completely erect and his hips bucked against her hand. Hinata wriggled downward, keeping her grip on him and brought his hand to her sex, made him stroke her.

"Yes," she said as his long fingers circled her clitoris. "You always erase your scent so no one can catch you by it, but I can smell you now, all around me. Why do you hide it? It's lovely."

He didn't answer her, but maybe that was because she was sliding down on his cock, engulfing him and he let out a little sigh once he was fully sheathed. Hinata placed his other hand on her breast, encouraged him to squeeze it, and began to ride him.

She didn't spare him anything, fucking him hard and fast. Kabuto liked to be slow, liked to take his time, but occasionally he would be rough, fucking her until she was oversensitized and whimpering as he whispered how smooth and tight her cunt was into her ear. She would have never admitted it until now, but she liked that. She liked the illusion of him losing control, that she was taking charge of him by inflaming his lust until it overflowed and he couldn't stand it anymore, he /needed/--

Her orgasm hit like a hailstorm.

Hinata might have screamed, but darkness suddenly swarmed over her vision and it was all she could do to stay upright. Kabuto hadn't come yet, but she didn't care. Hinata felt as though she was made of lead and stones. It took all her remaining energy to carefully lift herself off him and curl on her side.

Kabuto was moving next to her but Orochimaru could have burst in and stabbed her fifteen times over before the word "crap!" had framed itself in her mind, she was so drained. He pressed down on her hip, turning her on her back and lifted one of her thighs.

Silence and stillness until she managed to open one eye and realized he was visually examining her. Kabuto caught her looking, slipped a finger into her, moved it slowly. "Does it hurt when I do this?"

"No," she mumbled.

The finger hooked and rubbed a specific spot, one that when touched always left her choking down moans as her hips bucked against his hand: now, the sensation was merely ticklish and mildly pleasant. She squirmed halfheartedly and Kabuto took his hand away.

"/Hmm/." Kabuto bent: the faint sound of rustling paper probably meant he was writing again. "Subject is left visibly enervated with pleasure response considerably dulled. Hinata-chan, how far is it from Konoha to Suna, in kilometers?"

That took her a few minutes. "Um...358.883," she whispered finally.

"Mental faculties considerably dulled too," Kabuto said under his breath as he shifted and the bed sank under his weight. "I may have to rethink this as an interrogation tool. Well, let's put that aside for now." His hand stroked her hip, moved upward to gently squeeze her breast. "May I, Hinata-chan? You won't have to do a thing."

She managed a nod and Kabuto kissed her cheek, then rolled her back on her side.

It felt a little like it did when Kabuto fucked her while she was still mostly asleep and more than half dreaming: blurry impressions of touch and heat and movement that seemed to go around her rather than on and inside her. He bit her neck and she barely registered it: it was as if she'd grown seven extra layers of skin in the time between when she had first shoved him down to the bed and the now where she was struggling to keep her eyes open.

Kabuto was all around her, but Hinata couldn't smell him anymore. He whispered in her ear, but she was deaf to his words and when he slammed his hips against her when he came, it felt more like he had lightly tapped her.

He redressed and told her not to worry about her chores; she was excused until she recovered. If she felt like eating, he would make dinner tonight. Through the screen of her lashes, Hinata watched him unpack a little leather case and fit needle and syringe together.

His jabs were so familiar to her that she didn't spare a thought to him taking her blood: once he was done, he repacked his needle and vial and wrapped her in the blanket, pressed a kiss to her numbed lips, stroked a hand through her hair.

"Thank you for this," he said."You're always so interesting."