Criminal | By : laurenloogie Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1432 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Chapter one: the massacre
"Sake?" "Yeah, sake. What the hell does it look like? I feel like celebrating." It was an unusually nice day - the clear afternoon sky was an absurdly bright, neon shade of blue, and a mild, warm breeze rustled the leaves on the trees. The forests in the Land of Rivers were dense and ancient, studded with enourmous old trees whose foliage formed a canopy far above their heads. Little patches of sunlight streamed through gaps in the cover, dancing over the forest floor with the fluttering of the leaves, and Kisame had to admit that a day this beautiful was reason in itself to celebrate. He glanced over to find Deidara shifting the bottle of sake in his hands, a mischevious, almost lewd grin curving his lips. The blonde was still hopped up from his battle, practically glowing with energy, his innocent appearance barely concealing the bloodlust that seethed just under the surface. How many people had he killed just a few hours earlier? Fifty? Seventy? And barely a scratch on him - the blood that stained a few of the clouds on his Akatsuski robe was almost certainly someone else's. Deidara had definitely executed their mission with terrifying skill, and the bottle he had grabbed from the wreckage was just excessive proof that he'd enjoyed the slaughter. Feeling tired and a little old, Kisame had to remind himself that the blonde's lust for killing was no more than an asset... after all, what was a shinobi other than a weapon? And a weapon that faltered in the face of carnage was, well... useless. He broke from his thoughts and stole another glance in the blonde's direction. Deidara was staring at him with a feverishly bright blue eye, doing little to hide his impatience. "I don't know," Kisame finally sighed. "We're not really supposed to drink... Pain will have a fit if he finds out..." Deidara snorted a gay little 'hmph' and rolled his eyes. "You can't be serious," he said. "We completed our mission, didn't we? Or rather, I completed our mission. You just watched, hmm." Grinning, he tossed the bottle in the air, giving it some torque, and caught it in mid-spin. "I think you're just being a kurmudgen." He pointed the bottle accusingly at Kisame, his face an exaggerated mask of disdain. "Shit," the swordman muttered. "Have a little respect for your seniors... fucking brat." "Ugh, stop calling me that," Deidara retorted, scowling. "After that battle, you should have a little respect for me, don't you think? It was a masterpiece." "Masterpiece?" said Kisame, feeling an ironic smirk curve his lips. "No, that was a massacre." He glanced over at the blonde to find him practically beaming, as if that had been a compliment. But he supposed it was, in a way. After all, their orders had been to massacre - Pain had even used that exact word to describe it... Their mission had been to take down a gang of thugs who had recently been encroaching on one of the Akatsuki's loosely defined territories in the Land of Rice Paddies. The land was constantly in turmoil, so villages often made pacts with shady organizations such as the Akatsuki to protect them from marauders and whatnot. In return, they'd give whatever their village had to offer, which was usually rice, vegetables, and occasionally some meat. But hey, even the Akatsuki had to eat, and killing off a few attackers now and then was a small price to pay. The thugs recently causing problems had been a rising nuance in the region over the past few months, gaining territories and generally just stirring up shit. But they had barged in on the wrong territory, and the Akatsuki weren't exactly known for taking half-assed measures. It was Pain's mantra to inflict utter devastation on anyone who crossed him - delivering what he considered to be the wrath of a god. The original plan had been to send Deidara and Sasori, but Sasori had just acquired some new 'puppets', meaning he had captured some shinobi with interesting jutsu that he wanted to gut alive and preserve for his collection. Sasori was a stubborn son of a bitch, especially when it came to 'art', so Pain hadn't even argued over it. Coincidentally, Kisame and Itachi had been getting some so-called r&r in the same hideout, meaning Itachi had fallen ill and was confined to bedrest until the symptoms of his chronic disease weren't so blatant... so the answer had been obvious. Sweeping executions weren't really Kisame's style, but no one else had been around to carry out the mission with Deidara. So it goes. In the end, though, Kisame didn't have to do shit. They only had vague intel as to the whereabouts of the enemy base, but Deidara had found it in surprisingly little time from the sky. The camp, hidden along the western border of the Land of Rivers, was protected by a cliff face on one side and a huge, bristling wall of sharpened logs that ran around the remaining perimeter. As Kisame soon found out, though, the defenses merely ended up leaving the enemy penned in like cattle for slaughter in the face of Deidara's jutsu. "Just watch me," the blonde had said, eyes bright with anticipation. "Enjoy the show... and kill anyone who tries to escape." Kisame had grudgingly agreed... he didn't give a flying fuck who did what as long as they completed their mission. So he had perched in a tree outside the fort-like walls that provided a decent view inside, sat back, and watched the show. He had never worked with Deidara before, so he'd had no idea what to expect, but the battle that enfolded before his eyes exceeded any vague expectations he might have had. It was nothing like the blonde's embarrasing fight with Itachi that had duped him into joining the Ataksuki - Deidara's justu was violence and chaos unlike anything he'd ever witnessed. He was like some kind of fucked up deity, raining down destruction from the heavens, laughing in delight as the poor shits below tried to hit him with arrows and spears. He plummeted and spiraled through the sky on his clay hawk as if flying was second nature, and didn't seem to give a damn that one mistake could send him falling to his death. Within the first minute, the entire encampment was ablaze - maimed thugs ran screaming from erupting buildings, only to be blown to smitherenes the second they made it outside. Soon, there was so much smoke in the air that Kisame could barely see what was going on, but the chorus of terrified screams and the smell of burning flesh told the story for him. The stout fortress walls that had protected the camp so well in the past were now doing the exact opposite; he watched with a bemused grin as those still alive tried desperately to climb their way to freedom, only to be picked off by one of Deidara's kunai as he swooped by. The only way in or out was a huge gate that looked like it took a fair amount of manpower to open, and in the midst of the chaos, no one was level-headed enough to even get it to budge. What an idiotic design... Kisame mused, laughing outloud at the morbid irony of it all until there was no one left able to climb. Eventually, the flames died down to embers, and Kisame caught glimpses of Deidara, on foot now, searching among the rubble for survivors and methodically slitting their throats. When every last thug was either dead or mortally wounded to his satisfaction, he remounted his hawk and emerged over the wall, grinning wildly. He landed gracefully by Kisame at the base of the tree, smudged with soot and blood. "Well that was fun," he said lightly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I wish more missions were that exciting." Kisame grinned, baring teeth. "Careful what you wish for," he said. "The way you fight, you'll be dead in no time." He tried to think of something else demeaning to say, but his tongue was tied. Perhaps he was a bit shellshocked... Deidara's jutsu was the loudest, flashiest form of fighting he'd ever witnessed. Absent-mindedly, he licked his thumb and wiped a smudge of soot off the blonde's cheek. The skin under his thumb was warm and smooth and he was hit with a nearly irresistable urge to linger there, but he pushed the thought away, cursing himself as he withdrew his hand. He searched his mind for something to say and finally came up with "you're an idiot." Deidara snorted. "Whatever," he growled. "You're just jealous." He ran his fingers through his hair again and looked back toward the wreckage, hiding his face... but Kisame could have sworn he'd seen a blush on his cheeks. He sighed. There was an uncomfortable tightness in his pants and it took him a second to realize he had an erection. He rolled his eyes, disgusted with himself, and straightened his jacket to ensure it was covered up. "Let's get going," he mumbled. "This place reeks of burning flesh..." "Fine," Deidara said, shrugging. So they embarked on their three day journey back to the nearest hideout, leaving the smoking wreckage of the camp behind them until it was nothing but a black smudge on the horizon. Which led them to the present. They had been walking for a solid three hours, Deidara bounding ahead then lagging behind Kisame's steady pace, chattering away as he dug around for the exploding mushrooms he ground up into his clay, or paused to admire a flower. And the whole while, Kisame felt a burning in his gut and a tightness in his throat that could only be lust. His would find himself ogling as the blonde bent over to inspect something, reveling in the slender curves that barely showed through the loose folds of his jacket. It had been like this through the whole mission - starting with a mild interest, then quickly festering to flat-out lust. In fact, he could barely remember the last time he'd gotten laid, and hadn't even dwelled on it until now. Perhaps he had been ignoring his hormones for too long, because sheer willpower was the only thing preventing him from pinning Deidara against a tree and splitting open that cute little ass with his angry, ten-inch cock. And the weird thing was, he hadn't even thought about a man this way before... there was just something about Deidara that transcended gender, a sex appeal so palpable he could feel it, like electricity. And now the blonde wanted to get drunk? He could barely believe it but the proof was right before his eyes, impatiently tossing his hair and shifting the bottle in his hands. "Yeah, sure. Whatever," Kisame finally sighed. "Honestly, I don't know why you're even asking for my permission. But..." He let a grin slide over his lips. "...You should probably share it with me, just so you don't get too shitfaced." Well... actually, it wouldn't be all that bad, he mused. Too shitfaced to defend himself, or to remember anything the next day... "Ha, alright," Deidara said, beaming. Without further ado, he uncorked the bottle and took a drink. "I haven't had a single drop since i joined this fuckin' organization," he griped, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Sasori doesn't allow it... says it'll impair my integrity or some crap." "Yah, Sasori's, err... cautious," Kisame said as he sauntered up, snatched the bottle and took a sizeable drink. "Cautious is an understatement," Deidara huffed. "The last time he caught me with booze, he broke the full bottle over my fuckin' skull!" He grazed his fingertips over the back of his head and winced. "Big-ass ceramic bottle... I hadn't even opened it..." he muttered. "I swear, he has no regard for those of us who still feel pain." "Heh, what a prick... so this was recent?" Kisame asked, smirking. Deidara's answer was a scowl and a glare, and Kisame noticed that the blonde had to tilt his head up to meet his gaze. In fact, the top of the younger man's head barely came up to his shoulders, and the vast difference in height only turned him on more. The blonde was so small it made him appear fragile, in a way... Kisame longed to see what that delicate little body would look like after being ravaged, cut up and bruised by his sharp teeth and calloused hands - like a broken piece of china. "It doesn't matter when it happened," Deidara sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "As if you give a shit." "Hey, now," Kisame chuckled, wondering briefly if he had been caught ogling. "I was trying to at least give you the illusion that I care." A snort of dry laughter escaped Deidara's lips. "Leave the illusions to your partner, hmm?" he said. "You're about as sympathetic as a rock. Maybe even less... at least rocks don't talk shit." "That's a stupid analogy," Kisame muttered. He took another big slam of sake, watching the blonde's patience thin as he drank. "Fuck, Kisame!" Deidara predictably burst. "I agreed to share that with you, not watch you drink it all!" "Ha, what was that?" Kisame sneered as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Why don't you go tell your problems to a rock then, eh? Whiny brat." Deidara's eyes narrowed and his hands flexed at his sides, and warning signals flashed through Kisame's brain. The blonde's appearance had shifted - bipolarly so - from harmless to violent... the swordsman was suddenly filled with an uncomfortable, edgy regret that he was such a shit-talker. Sasori had warned him that it didn't take much to push the brat over the edge. "This is gonna end up one of two ways," Deidara grated tensely. "Oh yah?" Kisame growled. He could feel Samehada bristling against his back. "How's it gonna end, Deidara?" "If you keep acting like an asshole, this forest is gonna be scattered with burning chunks of blue flesh!" Deidara shouted. "Damnit, I'm so sick of you I could vomit! This entire mission you've been like a fuckin'... playground bully! Where the hell do you get off?!" "In your fuckin' mouth, bitch," Kisame spat. He was quickly becoming annoyed - it was festering like an itch he couldn't scratch. "I'm sick of your stupid analogies... do you think Kirigakure had a fucking playground?" He took a sip of sake, grinning fiercely, then spat it onto Deidara's face. He barely had time to relish in how the sake kind of looked like gizz splattered across the brat's pale skin before the blonde's hand had disappeared under his jacket, going for his clay. "Don't you fucking dare!" the swordsman snapped - and then he was in motion, charging toward Deidara at full speed, subconciously plugging the bottle of sake with his thumb. The blonde's face was an almost insane mask of hatred as he nimbly dodged out of harm's way, and Kisame was sorely reminded of how much he hated going up against long-range fighters. They were always so hard to hit... Five minutes later, the forest had been transformed into a fiery hell pit by Deidara's bombs. The ground was pocked with craters and splintered wood, and the air shimmered with heat. Falling branches were almost as much of a concern as the bombs themselves, snapping from the burning trunks and plummeting down like fiery spears. Luckily, the dense upper canopy was still unharmed, for Kisame feared it would catch like kindling and set fire to the whole damn Land of Rivers. The swordman himself was a fucking mess - his jacket had caught fire at some point and had burned him quite severely before he'd been able to rip it off, and he had been punctured by a few splinters of wood, hurled from the blasts like shrapnel. But none of the wounds were fatal, so he hadn't had Samehada heal him... he didn't want Deidara to find out and up the ante. Not like he had time to heal anyway - the blonde was hitting him with so many attacks he barely even had time to form hand signs, and the jutsu he had used so far had just been damage control - putting out fires that were creeping too close to the canopy. He glanced up and caught sight of Deidara, who was still unharmed, perched on a branch far above the range of the fire. The little bastard's bombs were so fast and accurate that he could hold a fight from an insane distance, and Kisame had been knocked down by explosions every time he'd tried to climb up. So in conclusion, the last five minutes had sucked, hard. Well, since the terrain's in Deidara's favor, I guess I'll just have to change it, he thought to himself, briefly pulling his thumb out of the sake and taking a quick sip. It's time to put an end to this bullshit. He sent up a water clone first, to give himself some cover. It wasn't the clone that provided the cover, though - it was Deidara's predictable reaction. The explosion was a deafening ball of fire and smoke, and it gave Kisame just enough time to get his water prison jutsu going unnoticed. By the time the smoke had cleared, the water was expanding upward so fast it was nearly to Deidara's elevation before he even noticed - Kisame was delighted to see the blonde actually fail at evading for once and get sucked neatly under the surface. The water was a disgusting slurry of ash and blackened tree limbs, studded with charred trunks and branches, and Kisame was almost certain that the blonde couldn't see shit... but his own eyes could see just fine. This is what they were really meant for, after all. He could see quite clearly that Deidara, unfamiliar with this jutsu, was still clinging to the same branch he'd been perched on, eyes squinting as he tried to analyze the situation. Fitfully, he shed his jacket, letting it float away, then jammed a hand into his pouch of clay, confirming the swordsman's theory that the bombs worked underwater. Well, no matter. This was going to be over soon no matter what the blonde had up his sleeve - underwater, Kisame had the upper hand regardless of how many bombs were spit at him. Hidden behind a large, charred trunk, he quickly unwrapped Samehada from its binding. The weapon was visibly excited to be underwater, flexing its spines and chomping its sharp teeth. He had never shown the blonde what the sword looked like - the brat probably assumed it was just a big metal blade - so he had the advantage of surprise. He gave Samehada a subvocal command and gently released it, then watched from behind the trunk as it swam swiftly toward Deidara. Underwater, Samehada was more of an animal than a sword - its spines worked as a thousand little fins, rippling as it swam - and the way it twisted through the water was more akin to a snake than a shark. It was frightfully fast and agile - even he couldn't outswim it. The fight was over so quickly it was almost anticlimactic. Just as Kisame had predicted, Deidara was nearly blind in the murky water, so Samehada had crept up on him unnoticed. The blonde had sent out a few mine-type bombs that, artfully, looked like squid, but Samehada had felt their chakra and neatly avoided them. Once past the mines, it had viciously wrapped itself around the unsuspecting blonde, digging its spines into his flesh. There wasn't much of a struggle - the whole thing had happened in just a matter of seconds - and now Deidara was squirming around uselessly, losing air as he shouted a stream of curses, his blood diffusing into murky clouds. Grinning, Kisame secured himself on a stout branch, then released the water prison with a quick hand sign. Immobilized by Samehada, the blonde went plummeting to the earth along with the million gallons of water, and cried out in pain as he hit the ground with a loud thud. Nearly beside himself with triumph, Kisame jumped down from branch to branch and landed lightly by his mangled victory. Deidara had landed in a puddle of ash-grey mud - he was covered in it - and blood was oozing from Samehada's embedded spines. The sword, unaffected by the impact, was gleefully absorbing the blonde's chakra, bloating like a spiky leech. When it felt Kisame's presence, it unwrapped itself from the motionless body and wriggled up to his feet like a dog that had fetched a stick. "Heh, good job," Kisame said aloud, giving it a pat. It arched gratefully against his hand then healed him, twining its tail-like hilt around his ankle. Once his wounds had disappeared to little more than off-color scars, he knelt down over the blonde, who had been watching him silently out of one wincing, heavy-lidded eye. The scope over his left eye was caked with mud and filthy water was leaking from the lense, rendering it utterly useless. "I should fuckin' kill you," the swordsman growled. "To say that was annoying would be a huge understatement." Deidara coughed weakly, spitting up a fair amount of muddy water. "Then fuckin' kill me," he rasped. "I'm obviously no more than a nuisance to you..." His gaze shifted to the bottle of sake, which had remained unharmed through the entire battle, and the look on his face was of absolute despair. "If you can beat me one-handed, what good am I?" he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "I train so fucking hard... but it's all just pointless..." "Shut up, Deidara," Kisame snapped. Without thinking, he roughly backhanded the blonde in the jaw, snapping his head to the side. The younger man cried out hoarsely and a trickle of blood spilled out the side of his mouth. "This whole stupid fight was about the sake," the swordsman grated. "And now you're bitching because I went through the trouble of saving it?" He realized his thumb was still corking the bottle and pulled it out, then flexed his stiff hand. "It was a huge pain in the ass," he growled. "You should be grateful." Deidara sighed raggedly, and Kisame was shocked to see that he was blushing under all that mud. With tremendous effort, he shakily propped himself up onto one elbow. "If you went through all that trouble, let me have a drink," he murmured, reaching for the bottle. When he took it from Kisame's hand, his grip was so weak he nearly dropped it before raising it to his lips. "Fuckin' Samehada..." Kisame mumbled, disgusted with himself that he was feeling empathy. "It almost sucked your chakra dry." He looked over to find the bloated weapon scooting around contentedly in a puddle of mud. "Your pet needs a bath," Deidara mumbled, gazing listlessly at the muddy sword. "For one of the infamous Great Blades.... it's acting kinda cute." Kisame snorted, feeling a grin tug his lips. "I don't know if 'cute' is the right word," he said. His gaze swung back over to Deidara, who was taking another drink of sake, his slender throat bobbing as he swallowed. Perverted thoughts crowded the swordsman's mind and he couldn't help but dwell on how helpless the blonde was - it was a simple fact that he could do terrible, unforgivable things to Deidara's body without getting more than a scratch. I could strip him naked and rape him right here in the mud, he told himself. Dizzy from his own black imagination, he took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to remain calm. "Damn, I'm thirsty," Deidara panted, breaking Kisame's evil train of thought. "And to think I was about to drown a minute ago..." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, only succeeding in smearing around the mud. Too drained to be frustrated, he mumbled a curse then sluggishly removed his scope, peeling the wet material from the side of his face. Filthy water trapped in the eyepiece flooded down his cheek, cutting a path through the mud... it looked oddly as though he'd been crying out of just one eye. "Shit. You're a mess," Kisame mumbled. "Screw you, Kisame..." Deidara's supporting arm was shaking with strain - he laughed bitterly when it finally gave way and his head splashed back into the mud. The bottle of sake slipped out of his hand and nearly spilled before Kisame snatched it up. "I take it back," the blonde murmured. "There's nothing cute about Samehada. I feel like absolute shit." "Well, you brought it on yourself," Kisame said. "You have no control over your temper." "Like I need a fucking lecture right now," Deidara sighed. "As a matter of fact, why the hell are you even still here? You should just leave me to rot in this mud... Or do you enjoy watching people suffer? Hmm?" "Maybe I do," Kisame growled, a grin sliding over his lips. "I swear, Deidara... you're in no position to talk shit." "Ha, what're you gonna do?"" Deidara sneered. "You a pervert or something?" "Ugh, shut the fuck up," Kisame muttered. "It's not my fault you look like a fuckin'... chick with a dick." He sighed and took a drink of sake, glad that he had gone through the trouble of saving it. When he lowered the bottle he saw that Deidara was, predictably, blushing a pretty shade of red. "What, you surprised?" he said, the sarcasm obvious in his tone. "As if there's not a confused straight guy left jerking off in the wake of everyone you've met." "You really have a way with words, Kisame..." Diedara sighed, rolling his eyes. "But honestly, you're not half-" Kisame's hand shot out and clamped over the blonde's mouth before he could summon the phrase 'shut up.' He had felt something, and when he looked over at Samehada, the sword was bristling aggressively. Deidara was squirming and shouting muffled curses into his hand - he stopped when he saw the threatening look on the swordsman's face. "Thanks to your explosive temper, we've already been spotted," Kisame hissed. "We have to get the fuck out of here." The way Samehada was bristling, he knew that a considerable amount of chakra was approaching - probably a four-man squad of shinobi - and they were approaching fast. "Shit. Hang on," he said, his voice lowered to a whisper. Samehada came to him before he had even said a word - the sword knew better than he that danger was nearby. Kisame grabbed the blonde's hand and was met with a silent glare. "Now's not the time to act fuckin' gay," the swordsman growled. He positioned Deidara's hand over his, then grabbed Samehada's hilt. "And I swear - not a word of this to anyone." Samehada began to heal him, obeying his will, and the chakra it emitted seeped from his hand to Deidara's. It was an ability he only shared with Itachi, since the Mangekyo always took so much out of him. He had always kept it a strict secret - he wasn't a medic ninja, for crying out loud. "Let's just kill them now, hmm?" Deidara burst. Suddenly he was on his feet and a considerable distance away, a technique that had always annoyed Kisame regarding long-range fighters. "Come on... I've already killed fourty-seven people today... let's up the ante! Hmmmm?!" "Shut the fuck up," Kisame hissed, shocked at how quickly the blonde had recovered his meager amount of chakra. "Do you want to fight Pain when we get back to the hideout? Because he'll know about this... and he'll be fucking pissed." He sighed, exasperated. "The Akatsuki have high goals... but right now, we're no more than criminals listed in every jonin's bingo book. We can't just go around slaughtering shinobi, stirring up shit..." Deidara's hand was already in his clay. "Fine," he sneered. "Don't talk to me like I'm stupid." Five seconds later his hand spat out a lump of clay which he artfully produced into some sort of prehistoric bird. "Ha, let's go then," he said, grinning wildly. Kisame looked over his shoulder and to his dismay he could see the vague outlines of four shinobi approaching. "Can't you make two of those things?" he grated. "Since you don't want to fight, I don't have time to give you flying lessons," Deidara chirped, clearly gloating at the fact that he had the upper hand. "Of course, you could always just walk. I'm sure you'd lose them eventually... maybe..." "Didn't I tell you to shut the fuck up?" Kisame growled. "I swear, I should just cut your fuckin' tongue out." "Ugh... a real way with words," Deidara sighed. "Now come on!" With a few quick motions Kisame crudely bound Samehada to his back and jumped onto the bird behind Deidara. Now the shinobi were so close he could see their headbands - they were from Konahagakure. Scowling, he dodged a kunai with a casual tilt of his head. "Hold onto me, idiot. You'll fall off," Deidara hissed. "Damn. This is embarrassing," Kisame grumbled, awkwardly grabbing the blonde's hips. And then they were in motion, gaining elevation at a surprising rate. One of the shinobi lamely shouted 'get back here' and the swordsman barely had time to flip him off before they pierced through the canopy. *Author's note* Hey, sorry about the non sex in here. Just go to the next chapter, tho. It's crammed full of awesome, violent sex. And also, I'm gonna be posting some art now and again related to the story... you can find it at laurenloogie.deviantart.com.While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
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