Categories > Anime/Manga > Naruto

Only Once

by sanguineus 0 reviews

Genfic. Angst because the reader will. ;.; One-sided OrochimaruxSasuke; Sasuke wonders what, exactly, he is giving up for the price of vengeance. Depressing because Sasuke really is very young f...

Category: Naruto - Rating: R - Genres: Angst - Characters: Orochimaru, Sasuke - Warnings: [!!!] - Published: 2006-05-01 - Updated: 2006-05-01 - 1130 words - Complete

Only Once
h. tsuki

It only happens once, and it's fleeting.

Sasuke has known from almost the beginning that there would be some kind of temptation-some kind of test, or price, for the power he will give anything for.

He's learned a lot, and he hasn't had to give up anything yet; he isn't stupid, but it makes him almost-giddy that all he has to do is give up his body; and that isn't much at all because his general plans include exactly nothing after he kills his brother. There isn't a place in the world for an Avenger who has avenged.

He would be quite content with the arrangement, really; he should be, because Orochimaru is surprisingly patient and Sasuke himself is an exceedingly fast learner.

There is a serpentine quality to the man-he is a snake with a snake's tongue, offering up the world in his bewitchingly simple bargains.

If Sasuke is honest with himself, he expected-more. Kabuto's devotion, for one, seems unnatural; seems part of a bond that is stronger than master and servant. He will occasionally happen upon them, and some part of them will be touching-Orochimaru's hand idly on Kabuto's shoulder, or Kabuto standing very near to the Legendary Sannin with rapt attention as though his entire being were focused on any whim or fancy that the darkly pale man might have.

Sasuke waited, in the beginning, day after day, for the touches to begin; fingers at his shoulders, too, or on his spine and slipping down to the small of his back.

They never came.

Nothing but the most cursory; Sasuke does not quite understand. Unless he is injured, there is not so much as a pat on the head for a job well done. It is frustrating, though it shouldn't be because he is doing everything right and he is doing well; he is accomplishing his goal and he doesn't have to let Orochimaru fuck him to do it.

The one time it happens they are sparring. They spar very rarely because it is mostly jutsu learning and practicing, and Orochimaru knows a bit about Itachi and occasionally mentions possible openings or weaknesses that the older Uchiha may have; but no, it happens while they are sparring because it is truly seeing the man in motion, seeing him move so fluidly, so fast, so terribly-

He is distracted and catches a fist in his gut for it; smooth face and narrow eyes and lips pulled in a not-quite-bloodthirsty smile that has sharp fangy teeth, and the thick black hair that streams out behind him like water-

He takes the hit, buckles over and his forehead is against a hard clavicle and there is a soft hiss at his ear and the silky brush of that watery hair at his neck and then Orochimaru steps back and pushes him away and looks him clinically up and down, and it's about the time he is saying, "If you fight Itachi so nostalgically," that Sasuke realizes, "he will easily catch you off guard. That was," black eyes and hair and heart, "not a difficult block, Sasuke-kun," and now there is some kind of heavy admiration in him for this person who has /taken /everything he has ever wanted out life and paid no mind to anybody else's rules. "That is enough sparring for today. This next /jutsu/-"

It is later that he finally asks Kabuto, "Was Kimimaro in love with Orochimaru?"

There is not so much a pause as a brief shifting behind the gray-haired sound-/nin/'s glasses, a quick skimming of information; observations he has made, and the answer that Sasuke is looking for.

He says, quite frankly, "Why would you ask that?" He does not say it crudely or unkindly; it is speculative and just as probing.

"He died for-his own replacement."

"Well," Kabuto says, and he is speaking easily and sealing up the cut on Sasuke's forearm with a bit of easy chakra, "there was an infatuation, of sorts; it was misdirected awe, I personally believe. Our leader is quite awe-inspiring, after all. Whether it was truly love or not-"

"For all practical purposes, could it be called that?"

His glasses flash as he pushes them up the bridge of his nose. "Well, Sasuke-/kun/, for all practical purposes, yes."

A silence, and Kabuto working diligently, and he asks the real question, "Did they ever-?"

He is glad for his expressionless face, even if everyone else here is better than he is at chasing their emotions from their eyes; but as Kabuto studies him, there is no sign that he has ascertained the reason for the words left hanging in the air; though that is no indication to the contrary, of course. Kabuto is just the type of person to know everything you would not think him to.

"I have never known," and Sasuke cannot name the emotion that sinks as Kabuto answers, "Orochimaru-/sama/ to have ever slept with his future vessels."

A low, black curl discomfort around his lungs; bitter like disappointment, heavy like heartbreak.

"After all," and it's a bit of a scoff, "it'd be pretty strange to have sex with your own body-almost like summoning kage clones and having your way with them. I do believe that act is considered highly immoral in Leaf, among other countries. Though he has abandoned his country, old sanctions die hard, as they say."

Kabuto has never been quite so blatant about Sasuke's future before; though it has never bothered him in the past, he remembers exactly what caught in his mind when he and Orochimaru were chest to chest for those few seconds; the idea of those strong, pale arms around around his ribs, and those teeth at his throat, and that powerful, dangerous body heavy above his smaller one; it is only for an instant, it is only once, and it is only fleeting-

What if this could be my future?

And it would be Uchiha Sasuke in place of Yakushi Kabuto, clipboard and all, and maybe even a pair of semicircle glasses because the round ones are wholly unappealing. Orochimaru's hand on his shoulder, or in his hair, and the idea of swearing his life to someone else, someone he admires; giving up this impossible task he has set for himself, giving up on Itachi.

The name is jarring reminder that this, everything, is for the sake of the revenge that Sasuke has been living off of for years.

For the first time-and the last, because it has never interested him before and it never will again-he wonders what, exactly, he is giving up.

The next day he doesn't think twice about the half-hidden blotch of purple just visible at Kabuto's collar; he knows the medic-/nin/ left it there for him to see.
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