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Criminal	By : laurenloogie Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1431 -:- 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 List
- 1-massacre
- 2-ruthless
- 3-tsukiyomi
- 4-obvious
- 5-barracks
- 6-bind
- 7-luck
- 8-heat
- 9-break
- 10-grief
- 11-thin
- 12-creep
- 13-switch
- 14-rant
- 15-battles
- 16-capture
- 17-undisclosed
- 18-drugs
- 19-snake
- 20-infiltration
- 21-color
- 22-escape
- 23-used
- 24-possession
- 25-cold
- 26-trap
- 15
- 16
- 17
As Kisame ran toward where he had heard the explosion, the events of the past half hour replayed in his mind. He had known that fighting Sasori was a deathwish - the man's poison was practically a legend in the shinobi world. Unless the puppetmaster decided to make an antidote, there was absolutely no chance of survival. He'd been aware of this going in, yet it had still been disappointing to recieve that first poisonous cut. The senbon had barely grazed his arm, leaving a little trickle of blood in its wake; he had felt something akin to frustration in knowing his fate was sealed from such a miniscule wound. After that, he had simply given up on evading, allowing the redhead's array of poisoned weapons to hit him everywhere but his vital points. It had just ceased to matter anymore - whether he took in a drop or a gallon of the poison, the end result would be the same. Looking back on it, his decision to kill the redhead seemed brash and irresponsible. Which was better? Dealing with the truth of what had happened with Itachi or dying? The answer was vague and uncomfortable to focus on.
On the upside, dying this way was definitely better than freezing to death in a cave with the taste of Itachi's cum in his mouth... but not by much. He was already in excrutiating pain; it took a considerable amount of effort not to let it show. I won't give Sasori the satisfaction of watching me suffer, he thought to himself. Although I can only imagine this is going to get more painful before it's over. As for the redhead making him an antidote? The chances were slim to none. At least he had a few days before biting the dust - maybe even more, considering Samehada's healing ability. I just need enough time to get Deidara to safety, he told himself yet again. He was fairly convinced that the blonde's opponent was Orochimaru and if his suspicions were correct, the sannin would no doubt leave his victim alive for study and interrogation. Considering the bastard's perverted nature, the 'study' part might turn into something far more insidious.
Kisame increased his pace, fighting down a wave of sheer panic.
* * *
Deidara's single chance at escaping had long past, when Orochimaru had summoned that giant snake. Manda was its name, apparently. Now he barely had time to counter, let alone get himself a safe distance away. The sannin's large array of projectiles, varying from vomited up blades to hoardes of snakes, kept him in a constant state of panicked evasion. And then there was Manda, who was as fast as he was enormous. Deidara had found himself a hairswidth away from the creature's vast jaws a number of times, barely managing to hurl himself out of harm's way before its mouth hungrily snapped shut. His bombs weren't very effective against the snake, either - its big scales were like plates of armor, protecting it from the impact of the blasts so that they were about as harmful as annoying beestings. Even Orochimaru had been hit a few times - the man simply shed his burnt skin, bursting through his own mouth in a disgusting puddle of viscous fluid. Every jutsu the sannin performed was utterly revolting. Immortality was a horrifying thing to witness, at least in this bastard's case.
When a snake suddenly shot from Orochimaru's arm and coiled tightly around Deidara's ankle, the blonde barely had time to form the words 'oh shit' before he was pulled from the safety of his bird and violently hurtled toward the earth. All he could do was brace himself as he shot through the forest canopy and slammed against the ground in a cloud of leaves and dust. The pain was excrutiating... for a second he could do nothing but lay there and gasp for air. When the dust settled, he blearily looked down at himself to find his leg bent at a nauseating angle, snapped in two at the shin. He could see the bones protuding under his pants and a wet sheen of blood was already soaking through the fabric. I'm done for, he panicked, fighting the urge to vomit from the shock. He jammed his hand into a pouch of clay, his eyes darting around wildly as he formed another round of bombs.
"Throw those at me and I'll eat you alive," rumbled Manda's booming voice. The creature's head crashed down through the canopy, snapping branches left and right. It was indredulous that Manda was so big, only parts of his body were visible at one time under the tree cover. Stretched from snout to tail, the beast was undoubtedly over a mile long.
"You're not eating anyone, Manda." Orochimaru half-ran, half-slithered down from the snake's back, landing silently a few feet away from Deidara's bristling, broken form. Up close, he was even more terrifying - a monster in human form. "I want this one alive," he said. "He's Akatsuki, didn't you notice?"
"I couldn't care less what petty organization he comes from," Manda hissed. "Humans are no more than food!" He emphasized this statement by striking fitfully at Orochimaru, his enormous jaws snapping shut a hairswidth from the sannin's head. "One of these days..." he grumbled menacingly.
"Oh, hush," Orochimaru growled, undaunted. "I already told you, I'll feed you all the prisoners you can eat later. Don't be so impatient." He took a few more steps toward Deidara. "And as for you," he said with a grin. He looked as though he was going to finish the sentence when his head suddenly whipped toward the blonde via a revolting, distended neck. Deidara tried to throw the bombs clenched in his fist but his arm was pinned in the sannin's jaws before he could fling them away. He gasped, mortified, when he felt a pair of fangs puncture his skin - when the man drew his mouth away, a few drops of dark purple venom drizzled from the small wound.
"Get away from me," he panted, injuring his leg further as he tried to back away. A prickling, cold feeling was creeping up his arm, numbing the flesh in its wake; he felt a random, insane urge to try and sever the limb before the poison could spread any further. When he tried to throw his handful of bombs, it was like throwing lead - they fell harmlessly from his weakening grip.
"Calm down," Orochimaru urged, his voice lowered in an attempt to sound soothing - the result was an oily tone that made the blonde want to wash his ears out with soap. "The venom's not fatal... I don't want you dying just yet."
Suddenly, Deidara wished he had just blown himself up while he'd had the chance. Dying was undoubtedly an ideal alternative to staying alive for whatever this man had in store for him. As the venom seeped through his body, numbing and blurring his senses, he was gripped by a fear so devastating that it brought tears to his eyes. He cursed feebly, glaring at Orochimaru's leering face until he could no longer hold his eyes open. His last thoughts before falling unconscious were of Kisame and Sasori... the names sounded distant in his mind, little more than dreams.
* * *
"Damnit," Sasori grated, "I think we missed the fight!" He was running as fast as he could to keep up with Kisame; it was ridiculous how fast the swordsman was, even with the poison in his veins. Tree limbs whipped by the two men and the passing scenery was little more than a blur.
"Come on," Kisame panted over his shoulder. "Can't you go any faster?"
A dry, sex-related response flickered over Sasori's tongue but he held it back... the situation was simply too dire for shit-talking. After the initial explosion, several more blasts had shaken the forest floor, accompanied by the sound of crashing tree limbs. The two had briefly scaled a tall oak to see if they could spot the fight - their eyes had been met with the writhing bulk of Manda, Orochimaru's familiar, flattening the landscape a few miles to the south. Their fears confirmed, they had proceeded to haul even more ass than before, going as fast as physically possible. Yet about a minute ago, the noise had suddenly stopped. After all the crashing and rumbling, the silence was shocking to their senses. It was obvious that the battle had come to an end, although it was impossible to tell who was the victor until they got there. They could only guess at the outcome... and neither man was optomistic. When Orochimaru summoned Manda, he meant business.
Minutes dragged by like hours as they continued to close in on the battleground, punctuated by nothing but that terrible silence. When they finally reached the area where the trees were splintered and felled from the fight, they were disappointed yet not entirely surprised to find no sign of human life. The wreckage spanned about a mile in diameter and a few small fires smouldered here and there from Deidara's bombs. Some of Manda's enormous scales were also scattered about, singed and blackened. At least the brat put up a good fight, Sasori thought listlessly as he searched around for clues - footprints, shreds of clothing, anything that might lead them in the right direction. At least there didn't seem to be any evidence that the blonde had died, although the absence of a corpse didn't mean much when Orochimaru was involved. The sannin would likely take the blonde with him even if it was just to perform an autopsy.
Just when Sasori was sure every square inch of the area had been inspected, Kisame's voice called out to him from about a quarter mile away. He fought down a wave of dread as he followed the voice to its source. Kisame was kneeling over a patch of dirt, his muscles tense.
"Look at this," the swordsman growled. Sasori came in closer and knelt down at the man's side, following his gaze. There amidst the upturned earth lay a handful of little white bombs, half-molded into the shapes of spiders. The dirt itself was indented with the distinct imprint of a human body - evidence of a painful impact.
"So Deidara crash-landed here," Sasori murmured. "How badly do you think he was injured?"
Kisame cursed under his breath and shot the redhead a dark glare. "Don't tell me you gave up your sense of smell to live in that stupid body, too?" he snarled. "The scent of blood here is unmistakeable."
It took Sasori a lot of willpower to let the swordsman's remark slide - he had to remind himself that he'd be rewarded later, when the bastard was incapacitated from the poison. "Well, if you can smell it, can't you follow the scent to where he is?" he asked.
Kisame shook his head. "My sense of smell's nothing special," he sighed. "I can only detect this because there's a fuckin' ton of it." He reached down and took a little handful of dirt, rubbing it between his fingers. "Dirt's still wet with it," he growled. "But I looked for a trail and couldn't find shit. Orochimaru must have stopped the bleeding before taking off."
Sasori ran a hand through his hair, his patience growing thin. "Then why the hell did you bother showing me?" he hissed. "To piss me off?"
"Damnit, man," Kisame grated as he rose stiffly to his feet. "I thought you were supposed to be a genius or something! I found the spot where Deidara lost the battle... now you figure out what happened next, for crying out loud!"
The redhead closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, almost feeling the throb of a frustrated headache. If Kisame was at a dead-end with his superior senses, what was left to do? "I'm assuming you looked around for footprints," he muttered under his breath, feeling idiotic just for saying it.
"Obviously," Kisame bluntly replied. "Orochimaru probably went up through the trees... but they're too torn up from the battle to tell us anything. I suppose we could search the perimeter of the damaged area-"
"That would take hours," Sasori hissed, cutting the swordsman off. "It would be dark by the time we finished!" Goddamnit, that's an idiotic idea, he thought to himself. Has Kisame ever had to track *anything* in his life? Yet the redhead wasn't exactly coming up with anything better himself. He just needed time to think! There had to be a solution, somehow.
When he finally opened his eyes again, he caught a glimpse of Kisame wincing and nearly doubled over in pain from the poison. A few wonderful seconds passed where the swordsman was too lost in agony to notice the redhead's gaze - the poor fucker looked like he was going to vomit and his arms were crossed tightly over his midsection as if he was afraid his guts might spontaneously spill out. When he noticed he was being watched, he scowled furiously and quickly straightened himself, forcing his arms to hang at his sides.
"Stomach problems again?" Sasori sneered. He was glad he was still kneeling because he was pretty sure he had an erection.
"Why are you asking me that?" Kisame growled, shooting the redhead a wary look. "You know it's from the poison."
The redhead shrugged as he thought up a lie. "It's hard to tell with you," he finally replied. "Either way, there's no time to make you an antidote right now." He tried to emphasize the words 'right now' as if to imply he was going to do it eventually - false hope was just as torturous as physical pain.
Kisame rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath. "Don't bother screwing with my head," he said bitterly. "I know you're not going to cure me. Now knock it off and try to think up a solution to this dead-end!" There was no flicker of hope in his eyes, no weakening of will at the prospect of being healed. The lack of a reaction was slightly disappointing.
Sasori sighed and diverted his eyes, his erection dwindling. Apparently, Kisame was better at reading into people than he'd originally thought. He must know I'm getting a kick out of watching him suffer, he brooded. That sucks! Toward the end, he's probably gonna try to crawl off and die alone like the dumb animal he is.
"Nevermind," Kisame said, snapping the redhead out of his sadistic thoughts. "I might have just figured out a solution, no thanks to you."
"Oh, really?" Sasori replied sarcastically. "Please do tell." It was probably going to be another stupid idea - searching the trees for shoe scuffs or something.
"Well, we're close to the five-mile radius limiting Deidara's search area," the swordsman said. "And also, he was gone almost forty-five minutes before the first explosion we heard. Considering the time and distance, he was probably toward the end of his search - he scans areas in wider and wider circles, like a spiral, and he said himself it wouldn't take him an hour. What I'm trying to say is, the hideout's either in this viscinity or it's completely underground. Or both, even. We're less than a mile from the ocean and there's a good chance Orochimaru's using some sort of hydroelectric power to fuel his experiments. We could be standing on the damn place!"
Sasori opened his mouth then shut it, as there was no snide remark to say. Kisame's revelation was damn intellegent - the more the redhead thought about it, the more sense it made. "That would explain the battle," he muttered under his breath. "Orochimaru was probably just outside catching a breath of fresh air before returning to his... studies..."
Kisame shifted Samehada on his back, an edgy expression on his face. "Then again, I could be completely wrong," he said curtly. "Regardless, let's go to the coast... maybe we'll find something."
"Yah, fine," Sasori sighed as he rose to his feet. By the time he had straightened his cloak, Kisame was already far ahead, setting yet another breakneck pace. Dumb animal indeed, he thought bitterly. The fact that he'd just been outsmarted by the swordsman both riled him and frightened him. Brawn and brains? It seemed unfair that the motherfucker had both.
* * *
Deidara awoke slowly, as if being roused from a coma. His body felt like a lump of lead and his thoughts wouldn't condense in his mind. Where was he? How did he get here? He would have asked himself these questions if he had the mental capacity. As it was, he was barely able to cling onto consciousness. All he could do was lay there in a sort of physical purgatory, too numb to even open his eyes. Even sound was distorted - he heard fragments of conversation yet it all jumbled into utter jibberish in his mind, beyond his comprehension. An eternity seemed to pass before the words being spoken around him began to make sense.
"... The bones are fractured in a few different spots.... will take some time to heal even with the medical jutsu..." This voice didn't belong to Orochimaru - it was softer, more passive. Menacing in its own way.
"... Don't want him walking around anyway... seems like an escape artist..." Here was Orochimaru's voice - rough yet lilting at the same time, dangerous even when lowered.
"... No significant injuries other then that.... antidote's working successfully..."
"... Checked those mouths of his for clay? Don't want him blowing this place to bits..."
And then the sensation of touch began to return to him. He could feel fingers probing the mouths on his hands, slipping in and searching around the small cavities in his palms. He wanted to bite down but he couldn't - the venom still had him completely paralyzed. The feel of being invaded this way was uncomfortable and humiliating; he inwardly sighed with relief when it was finally over. Seconds later, the relief was replaced with horror when those same fingers, wet with his saliva, slid into the mouth on his chest. They took out the stitches, he realized, cold with panic. Unlike his hands, the cavity in his chest needed to remain closed up - it was dangerously close to his heart and lungs, fatal if left open for too long. After an agonizing second or two of being violated in his most vulnerable spot, the fingers finally withdrew.
"No clay," stated the unfamiliar voice. "And he'll die if we leave this open."
"Well then... sew it back up, Kabuto. Obviously, I don't want him dead."
"And when I'm done?"
"Give him something for the pain and put him in cell number eight. I'll interrogate him when he comes to." There was a light sound of footsteps, followed by the creak and slam of a door being closed. Apparently, Orochimaru had more important things to do at the moment.
Now that the conversation was over, background noises reached Deidara's ears - the beep of a heart monitor, the hum of something mechanical, metalic ticks and groans. The question 'where am i' finally reached a conclusion in his mind... it was painfully clear he was in Orochimaru's hideout, wherever that was. Underground? Up in a damn cloud?
"I see you're regaining consciousness," the unfamiliar voice stated, breaking his disjointed train of thought. "So I suppose I should tell you, you're about to feel a slight prick..."
A slight prick, he mused deleriously. A million sex-related jokes fluttered through his mind but vanished when the man - Kabuto, was it? - proceeded to sew up the mouth on his chest with unceremonious efficiency. Every stab from the needle was followed by a brisk, painful tug of the thread and by the time it was over, Deidara had a feeling the fucker hadn't bothered to go through any of the holes that were already there. The procedure ended with one last sharp tug as Kabuto tied a quick knot and severed the thread.
"Now one more in your arm," the guy said. His voice was neither cruel nor kind, akin to the way all medics talked to their patients. He had that way of saying 'this is going to hurt' without conveying any emotion whatsoever - no sadistic implication, no hint of an apology. As if prepping a victim for torture and interrogation was as mundane as eating breakfast.
This 'slight prick,' as Kabuto had so eloquently phrased it, was less painful and over in a heartbeat. Seconds later, Deidara felt a pleasant warmth prickle through his body, making him feel lightheaded and oddly content. Considering his dire situation, this was a bizarre contentment indeed. Yet real, nonetheless - remaining conscious suddenly seemed like a chore, not worth the effort. Where he had fought the cold numbness of Orochimaru's venom earlier, he now welcomed this new toxin as it lulled him to sleep.

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* This chapter kinda sucks, in my opinion. But I don't know how to make it sound any better... so whatever.
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Criminal