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Orochimaru was done with games and playing. Rather than slowly be drawn toward the diva, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of those leather pants and yanked Itachi so close their chests touched. "Did I ever say you had a choice?"

But only Itachi's was bare. For his merit, he did not start--his face had gone serene again. His eyes became two dark, emotionless pits within his smooth, unworried countenance. "So rape is your style, hm?"

Orochimaru let his fingers release the leather, moving slowly up between them, along that bare, well muscled torso. "That's such a harsh word. And quite impossible when both parties are willing."

Itachi moved one hand, absently peeling Orochimaru out of his long coat, nonplussed by the contact. His skin was warm and smooth beneath the elder's palm, muscles rippling with his movements. "You know.. I hate being a one-night stand."

Orochimaru helped to removed the coat, tossing the rather heavy thing onto the couch. He didn't care if Itachi's things were damaged, but his belongings were something else entirely. "Covering up attempted murder will take far more payment than a single night."

"Oh good. I was worried I'd be one of those passing flings." Itachi's tone was so mirthless it was funny. As soon as his hand stilled, the youth moved, focusing his attention on deftly opening Orochimaru's Asian jacket with reverent care.

Orochimaru didn't help the young entertainer with the shirt, as he had the coat. "I do not have passing flings."

And that was why Itachi went painfully slow, fussing over each button. "Oh? Lucky for your boyfriend."

Orochimaru grabbed Itachi by the shoulders, shoving him down onto the couch, on top of the coat. He leaned over the younger one, knees pressing into the soft leather on either side of his hip, his shirt slipping off one pale shoulder. "Who ever said something about something so trivial as a 'boyfriend?'" he hissed.

"..Not the commitment type. Figures." Itachi chuckled dryly, and let himself fall back into the couch. But he'd hardly let himself be dominated. With another shift of his weight, he had Orochimaru flipped again--this time on his stomach, halfway falling off the sofa. Itachi was over him. One strong arm cinched at his waist, with the other roamed his exposed chest, idly tweaking a nipple as it passed.

"And you're no the type to just behave, are you?" As Itachi's hands roamed, so did Orochimaru's. He sat up, pressing his back against the other's chest, one hand moving between them to grope the front of those leather pants.

Itachi would find him impassive--no moan of pleasure or uncomfortable shift. Itachi was so inhumanly stoic it was frightening--but in response, his own questing hand moved, grasping the serpent's crotch and giving a harsh squeeze. "Never."

Orochimaru's drew in a sharp breath at the harshness of the hand, but that reaction was far from what anyone would expect such a grasp to elicit. "Be glad this is neither my house nor my office." He returned Itachi's violent hand with a slightly stronger grip. "There I would have ways to make you behave."

And garnered no reaction. If Orochimaru wanted him begging for his caress, he'd have to find another avenue. Itachi brought his face against the captive man's ear, releasing a purring response, as he began to stroke his companion through his pants, using the texture of the fabric to his advantage. "Why do you think I called you here?"

Orochimaru wanted no more of this teasing. No more of his toying. He grabbed both of Itachi's wrists, once again throwing him into the couch. This time, he held the other's wrists above his head, against the cushion. "Then I'll have to improvise, won't I?"