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The Serpent's Offer	By : Lykomancer Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1844 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-The Serpent's Offer
- 1
Yakushi Kabuto, not Orochimaru, was the one who found him after the End— after the ruininous battle the Valley of the End, that is, and the end of his last tie to Konoha.

Sasuke staggered, the world blurring and doubling before his glazed eyes and then fading out into a solid grey fog, and the ground rushed up at him as exhaustion and blood-loss claimed most of his consciousness.

Kabuto caught him before his knees hit the forest floor.

A small smile played on his lips. “Hello again, Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke’s eyes flashed brilliant crimson…

…and then rolled back into his head as he passed out, dangling limply in the medic’s arms.

His first impression was an incorrect one, though: Kabuto didn’t find him.

Kabuto was merely the one who picked him up for Orochimaru and brought him to Sound, much as he would go out and pick up any other mundane supplies his master required.

Sasuke spent the next day lying in bed with bandages wound tight around his torso and an IV drip of liquid oblivion feeding into the crook of his elbow.

He was pulled from the thick forgetfulness of drugged sleep, dizzy and dazed and half-dreaming, by a cool, tingling-itching sensation radiating through his skin. White-blue chakra danced like foxfire in his peripheral vision, and vaguely he could hear Kabuto humming softly under his breath as he patiently knit bone and stimulated cell regeneration.

A single yellow eye gleamed from the depths of a shadowy corner, like a wisp of an unforgotten nightmare.

“Close your eyes now, Sasuke-kun.” A tanned hand descended gently onto his brow, and the terrible ache that pulsed through his forehead quieted. Warmth rushed through his body.

“Wait… D-damn it. I— I want…”

Snakes had slithered under the thin blankets; he could feel their cool, dry noses nuzzling against his bare skin. Others coiled heavily across his thighs in lazy ribbons, sated by his heat, by his presence, by the assurance that he was theirs.

“Shhh, not yet. Your body is still adapting to the curse seal’s effects, and you maintained its second level far too long this too soon after developing it. I would only have to heal you again if you strained yourself now. So not yet, Sasuke-kun.”

The drug swirling in his blood clutched at him with clinging arms and pulled him down into sleep once more.

Sasuke dreamt of yellow slitted eyes, unblinking and vigilant as a cat’s, watching over him as he lay frozen and numb, unable to move.

The night seemed to stretch on into infinity.

The next day when he woke at last he met Orochimaru face to face once more…or as much face to face as the layers of bandages would allow.

“Your first lesson will begin tomorrow,” he said after Sasuke was shown his quarters.

“Tomorrow?” Sasuke sneered, impatient.

“After breakfast.”

That evening, he was visited by the same night terror again: inhuman eyes, demon’s eyes, watched him from pools of shadow covetously.

The bandages were gone by the following morning.

Orochimaru reclined in a large chair, elbow on the arm and fingers threaded through the loose spill of his black hair, smiling as Kabuto escorted his newest protégé into the room before politely excusing himself.

Sasuke stared hostilely at the elder shinobi’s preferred face, clearly unimpressed, and if Orochimaru was expecting him to inquire as to his changed form, he was left disappointed.

“Ah… Sasuke-kun.” The sannin gestured him closer with a graceful flip of his fingers as he stood. “Come. Let us talk.”

There was a greedy arrogance in Orochimaru’s expression and stance that Sasuke found disturbing— a challenge he answered silently by narrowing his eyes and lifting his chin— but he wasn’t afraid of the man who’d given him the “gift” of the curse-seal and invited him here. Orochimaru seemed to be courteous enough in his own fashion, and though he’d nearly killed Sasuke several times already, no explanation or apology was necessary. Orochimaru didn’t waste his time on weaklings or cowards.

Naruto’s voice cut through his thoughts: You think he’s just gonna give you power for free!? He just wants to use your body as a new vessel!

They were both working to further their own self-interests, that’s all.

Sasuke stepped toward him. “Talk about what? You know what I’m here for, and I know what you want from me. What else needs to be said?”

“Skipping the pleasantries to get straight to the point, hmm?” Orochimaru arched one brow, his smile sharpening into a wicked smirk as he regarded the boy before him. “It's rather rude to just presume you know exactly what I want.”

Sasuke’s lips flattened out in a thin line.

“Why don’t we…talk…about what I want from you.” It wasn’t quite a question, and it definitely wasn’t an offer that could be refused. “What I want…” Orochimaru began to prowl around him, running his eyes over Sasuke’s body as he spoke. “…in exchange for the power to defeat Itachi that you want so badly.”

“Or maybe…” he said thoughtfully into his ear when Sasuke didn’t respond to his baiting, pressing up against the boy’s back, “I could just show you.”

Orochimaru’s fingers dipped under the edge of his yukata, his short nails scraping against the skin of his belly with tickling, hair-raising delicacy. Sasuke fought the urge to squirm and won, his hands floating at his sides in awkward half-clenched fists; he wasn’t sure what to do with them. His breath hitched as the realization of what Orochimaru was doing hit him.

But he would do anything for the power to get his revenge, anything, even this if he had to… He had no other choice. He could not resist.

He needed Orochimaru.

He needed Orochimaru’s power.

He’d known even before he’d left Konoha that nothing in life was free.

He’d burned his bridges behind him anyway.

He rationalized: this is Itachi’s fault too.

This was interest accrued on an old debt, and blood would pay for blood.

And so Sasuke did not resist, but neither did he encourage. He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth and let the sannin’s hands slide down his stomach to fondle the soft, vulnerable flesh nestled in the hollow of his groin. He flushed with humiliation, dizzy with the swift rush of blood to his face and crotch, but held himself still, and somehow he felt even more embarrassed to realize that one hand was more than enough to cup his pubescent genitals entirely; Orochimaru’s thumb nestled into the spare hair sprouting at the base of his cock as his fingers rolled his testicles gently, stimulating him to unwilling arousal.

The elder nin nuzzled down the back of his neck toward the curse seal imprinted on his shoulder in a series of lingering kisses. Sasuke stiffened against him, nauseated by the unignorable hardness pressing against him, but the subtle squirming only seemed to excite the sannin further. The hand stroking him tightened its grip.

“Beautiful,” Orochimaru sighed against his skin in a hot, wet rush of breath, and then he laughed, low and dark, deep in his throat.

Blood ran down Sasuke’s chin in a narrow ribbon as his bit through his lip.

“Although…” he mused between nibbles of the Uchiha’s ear. “I’m a bit surprised to find you so agreeable to my terms, Sasuke-kun.” He smirked with an audible hum of amusement. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s certainly easier this way, don’t you think?”

“You will give me power.” His words would have been more commanding if he hadn’t sounded sucker-punched and breathless. “I don’t care what it takes.”

Orochimaru laughed again. “Quid pro quo— very good. I’m glad we have an understanding.” He pushed Sasuke’s yukata up higher, exposing his bare legs as he hitched it up around his waist, and his other hand slunk behind him to massage his buttocks with bruising pressure.

Sasuke snorted in derision.

Orochimaru shoved him forward suddenly, knocking him to the floor. Sasuke’s hands hit the stone hard as he staggered and barely managed to catch himself, limbs tangled in the loose silk of his half-unwrapped yukata. He snapped his head back to glare scarlet daggers at the sannin, but a pale hand shot out and twined painfully in his hair, driving his face downward.

“Don’t hold back on me, Sasuke-kun,” he warned in a too-sweet whisper. “Or else I might hold back on you. And we don’t want that, now do we? Not when we have such a nice mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Hot, slick wetness slipped across his exposed skin. Sasuke yelled and bucked, momentarily shocked out of his icy restraint by the abruptness of Orochimaru’s actions, but the older shinobi held him firmly until he managed to regain enough self-control to still himself once more, tense and trembling.

“Good,” he purred. “Good boy.” He eased his grip in Sasuke’s hair to drag his fingers through the wild strands in rough caresses. His tongue resumed its exploration, slithering up between his parted legs to tease the soft dangling sac between them and wrap around his still firm cock, its inhuman length pulsing rhythmically in the cleft of his ass.

Sasuke couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

You’ve already accepted this. Too late to change your mind now.

Warm saliva dripped down the insides of his thighs and pooled around his knees.

Orochimaru pushed his buttocks further apart with the palm of his free hand to expose him completely, a groan of approval rumbling in his throat as his slippery fingers probed tender flesh and then sank slowly into the heat of the boy’s body.

Sasuke froze, every muscle rigid. Every instinct he possessed shrieked in horror of violation, and yet simultaneously every ounce of logic screamed back in fury, It’s too late now!

No, it’d been “too late” ever since he left Konoha.

The fingers inside of him twisted and scissored apart, stretching tight muscles, then shoved in deeper. The burning pain was tolerable; the humiliation was not. His face was hot with a furious flush, and he worried at his bloody lip with his teeth again as a form of distraction.

It was a small favor that Orochimaru’s tongue was too occupied to allow speech; Sasuke didn’t think he could have handled it if the man had continued talking to him through this.

“Get on with it,” he growled savagely. He bounced his hips impatiently, then jerked to an immediate stop, a low cry pulled unwillingly from his throat as unexpected pleasure shot through him.

“Ah. Heh.” Orochimaru chuckled. His fingers curled against that sensitive spot, driving another half-strangled noise from Sasuke, then mercifully withdrew. His tongue coiled more firmly around the boy’s aching erection, though, slimy and hot, and it pulled him back with unyielding pressure even as something— Sasuke’s mind refused to name it— larger pressed insistently against him.

Into him.

Sasuke clawed at the floor as the air was crushed from his lungs, his eyes clamped closed. He didn’t feel the involuntary tears streaming down his face. A sickening mix of pain and shame twisted in his stomach— shame that this could be happening, that he was letting it happen, that he could feel some perverse response to it all despite everything.

I will kill Itachi, he told himself again. I will kill him for what he’s done to me.

White noise roared in his ears, blotting out the slap of flesh on flesh and Orochimaru’s smug sighs. Each thrust pounded him into the floor; he could feel the heat of blood on his stone-rashed knees, and it took effort to get his elbows under him firmly enough that he could suck in complete lungfuls of air.

The crack of Orochimaru’s hand on his ass startled him. Sasuke crooked his head to stare over his shoulder, eyes wide with outrage, then caught the dark expression twisting the man’s serpentine face as he lifted his hand for another sharp spank. The powerful length of tongue squeezed him as the blow landed.

I told you not to hold back on me, Sasuke-kun. The reprimand was as clear as though he’d spoken aloud.

Stoicism was not permitted. If he wanted anything from the sannin, then he needed to play along. Those were the rules.

Sasuke gritted his teeth, buried his face in his arms, and seethed as he tilted his hips up and began to move them in awkward, stuttering jerks, encouraged by the slick heat that gripped his cock with every forward thrust. He blotted Orochimaru from his mind and focused only on each sequential movement until gradually, without even noticing, he fell into a steady rocking pace that had him arching his back with every stroke, his brows knit tightly together in concentration.

A shudder wound down his spine. His lips parted. His breath came quicker. His rhythm unraveled and he bucked frantically up into Orochimaru in choppy, sloppy spasms as he came, as he felt the strange sensation of liquid heat exploding inside of him.

Black spots floated across Sasuke’s vision when he opened his eyes a few minutes later. He felt boneless and violated and unclean, lying on his belly on a floor slick with bodily fluids of all types, and when Orochimaru pulled free from him he gagged violently and repeatedly.

Cold fury gleamed in his eyes when he finally wiped his mouth and lifted his head to look at the sannin, sitting back on his heels. He didn’t dare try to stand yet. His legs would betray him.

“Well?” Sasuke asked. His voice was deeper, hoarser. “Quid pro quo, remember?”

Orochimaru threw back his head and laughed until he had to gasp for breath.

“Kabuto-kun,” he called without turning. “Show Sasuke-kun to the showers and then bring him out to the training grounds for his second lesson, please.” He paused, then added, still smiling, “And then check on those samples I asked you to prepare this morning.”

Sasuke snatched his soiled yukata up and scowled as Kabuto stepped from the shadows, a suspicious pinkness lingering in his cheeks.

“Yes, sir,” he said simply, adjusting his glasses so that the light reflected off the lens and hid the amusement in his eyes.

The next three years were going to be very interesting indeed.
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The Serpent's Offer