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Orochimaru wanted no more of this teasing. No more of this 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?"

Itachi fell back against the cushions with upraised brows, staring blankly into the pale visage of his guest. "..not one for foreplay, either, hm?"

Orochimaru did not answer his captive. Instead, he pressed his lips aggressively to the other's, shoving his tongue into his mouth.

Itachi captured it in his teeth--a sharp bite letting blood fill his mouth, and garnering a soft purr. Alleviating the pressure, he began to nurse the wound.

The bite pulled no reaction from Orochimaru. He'd play the Uchiha's game. Only after a few moments did he pull his tongue back, the taste of copper rolling around in his mouth. "Who knew the famous Itachi Uchiha was into blood and biting."

"I like to play rough, occasionally." Itachi's flat tone was cool and smug, silver gaze trained on Orochimaru's countenance.

Another slow, dark smile spread over that pale face. "One little bite is hardly 'playing rough.'"

"You haven't given me time to play." Was Itachi's simple, quick retort, a brow raising in challenge.

Orochimaru tightened his grip around those wrists, fingers pressing hard against skin and tendon. "I don't like to share my time on top."

A smirk curled across Itachi's mouth, eyes at a lazy, sultry half-mast. He did not wince, nor blink, at the pressure on his wrists. "You might not get a choice."

The pop star's indifferent attitude was starting to really irritate Orochimaru. "Given your situation, I'd say it was you who did not have a choice."

"Oh? Prove me wrong." He was cool, inhumanly placid. But Itachi was acutely aware of Orochimaru's frustration, and shifted faintly, to brush his captured legs across the older man's posterior.

Smoothly, the snake of a man got to his feet, releasing Itachi's wrists. He tugged his coat off the couch, as he did, out from under Itachi's shoulders. "This is not a game, Uchiha." was all he said.

The youth, sidled back on the couch, propping himself against the thickly padded arm. "Then enlighten me."

Orochimaru slid into the coat, adjusting the collar just right. He turned his back to Itachi, ready to leave for the door. "If you do not give proper payment, then I have no choice in the actions I must take." He fished the purple sunglasses from the pocket he'd slipped them into. Luckily, they had not been crushed.

Victory, at least, for Itachi. He was the picture of masculine beauty, spread across the couch. Eyes closing solemnly as he calculated his response. "..Well, should you ever need eyes.."

Orochimaru slid those glasses on his face. "You stand out far too much to be of any use to me as a spy. You will come by the club at five. We will finish then." It was not a question. It was not a request.