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Lemniscate	By : Lykomancer Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1340 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. My fanwriting is for entertainment purposes only, never for profit.

Chapter List
- 1-Lemniscate
- 1
It was nearly six months before Orochimaru had glutted
himself enough on his newest pet that he’d decided he felt generous enough to
share…or else simply bored enough to seek some diversion from his usual sport
and find entertainment in something else entirely.

Six months was the proving ground.

In half a year, many of those brought into the complex died. They were either
killed off by their ‘peers’ or died from the many complications and…accidents…that
occurred over the course of the days of harsh conditions and ruthless training
and experiments. Kabuto was extraordinarily skilled at warding death away in
all but the worst cases, but a certain level of die-off was not only expected
but encouraged— the weak died, the strongest of the pack were for Orochimaru’s
own personal use, and those that fell between were best used as specimens in
the medical nin’s frequent research.

Orochimaru’s world was red in tooth and claw, and only the fittest were allowed
to survive.

He’d wanted this Uchiha— one of the only two remaining and thus priceless; this
one young and desperate enough to lick up the promises made to him like
poison-laced candy from the hands of malicious strangers, ripe for the
plucking… He’d wanted Sasuke like a collector would want a rare animal to keep
as both a showpiece and a pet, something beautiful and savage that would bite
at him with its tiny milkteeth when he stroked his hand possessively over it
but which would grow up knowing which end of the leash it was on.

Orochimaru didn’t like simply forcing his will upon those worthy of his
attention though; his subordinates defended him, fought for him, died for him,
and some surrendered everything they were, body and soul, to him, completely
voluntarily because in his use of them— even as nothing more than pawns for him
to slide carelessly across the board— he made them feel needed, desirable,
capable. A light touch, a casual inquiry or compliment… He showed interest in
them and promised them a place in his fold, and the lonely and desperate scrabbled
eagerly to his side, their eyes shining with delight as they looked up at
someone who, at long last, really saw them and seemed to believe in them.

They needed and needed and needed, some— like Zaku and Kimimaro— starving for
attention and a little affection while others— like his newest toy— had gaping
wounds inside of them that had never healed and had rotted them from the inside
out.

Orochimaru understood the darkness of the human heart and he exploited it with
predatory ruthlessness. He filled the emptiness inside of them and directed
their energies and talents toward goals. He showed them what could be attained
and he inspired them to strive to be stronger, faster, more knowledgeable.

Kabuto never failed to be impressed with the skillful way that Orochimaru
manipulated others, mesmerizing them with his strange, inhuman gaze and then
wrapping them around his fingers easily. It was in either an inborn talent or
else one that he’d simply found so effective that it had become second-nature;
it never seemed to stop, no matter who he was speaking to. Orochimaru knew well
enough that his right-hand man understood the psychological tricks he pulled
even as his words emerged from smiling lips; he knew that Kabuto understood his
intent behind them and recognized the sharp edges meant to corral him into the
right emotional state and behavior, and he knew that it amused the younger nin
even as he played along with it.

It was a game and nothing more…although the stakes were high and losing was
deadly.

Kabuto had a deep interest in this game and in the eventual outcome, but the
playing of it was his true pleasure.

Sasuke lounged against the wall by the laboratory door casually, patiently
waiting for him to finish his work instead of interrupting. The boy was good;
Kabuto didn’t feel his presence until he stepped into the doorway, and he
paused there, his lips curving up in a soft smile as he read the type of energy
and intent radiating off of the younger shinobi.

“Ah, Sasuke-kun…” One hand automatically resettled his glasses higher on the
bridge of his nose, and he glanced at him from the corners of his eyes. “It’s
unusual to see you down here. To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected
visit?”

Sasuke tipped his head toward Kabuto, smiling back through heavy black lashes.
“Hn. Don’t act stupid. It’s insulting.” He unfolded his arms, dropped the leg
he’d had kicked back against the wall, and stretched slowly, muscles rolling
smoothly under his skin, and the older ninja’s amusement only increased as he
watched.

“As you’d like.”

Sasuke raised a brow, then sniffed quietly, rounding on Kabuto slowly with a
newfound predatory grace, studying the other nin’s face intently as though
trying to see past the pleasant persona to something he could latch onto,
something real: some resentment or jealousy toward him for his skill;
for his complete appropriation of Orochimaru’s time, attention, and for what
passed as his affection; some interest in his flesh, the desire to stamp his
own claim on the body his superior claimed for his own; some curiosity or anger
or need… Something, anything, besides his inscrutable sweet-faced charm,
a façade that Sasuke detested and had wanted to shatter only days into the
chuunin exam, long before he’d realized who and what Kabuto really was.

He wanted to tear down that mask, and if there was nothing more under it than
another, he’d rip through them all. He wanted to take the older shinobi down a
few pegs— much as Kabuto wanted, he was sure, to do the same to him.

It was one of the few things which Sasuke was sure about Kabuto.

“It’s not the only thing I’d like.”

The younger nin cut forward suddenly, nearly too quick to be seen, and then his
hands twined in the loose collar of Kabuto’s clothes, pulling him down, his
teeth showing in a vicious little smile. The medic rolled the movement smoothly
and naturally, a low chuckle vibrating in his throat as he captured Sasuke’s
lips with his own, and oh! the boy’s skin was soft and sweet and so
warm, flush with vigorous life, and for a moment all he could think about was
rush of hot blood through his veins, the rawness of vulnerable organs…and how
easy it would be to cut this cocky little prat into pieces right now with his
bare hands, sharp-edged chakra slicing through fibrous tendons and tough
muscle, disconnecting nerves...

There was an intimacy in dissection that completely outstripped that of sex and
he took pleasure in his work and his own ability to create and destroy, as
close to those he touched as their own blood, their own chakra. To control the
flesh was to control the ninja.

Sasuke’s tongue slid into his mouth insistently, and he reached up rake his
nails through the neatly ponytailed hair, pressing hard against the older nin,
and his touch was rough, demanding, leaving no space or time for even a breath
of refusal. He tasted bitter metallic, like old well water or blood, and Kabuto
wanted to laugh again in recognition. He slowly stroked along the boy’s cheek
and down his throat as he allowed him to deepen their kiss, tracing the cord of
muscle from jaw to clavicle and then under his high collar and over the curve
of his shoulder to the dark trefoil burned into his skin— the outward
manifestation of an inner corruption.

A brand of ownership.

“Come on.” Sasuke growled, still licking at his lips between words, though he
loosened his grip on his clothes and folded his fingers around Kabuto’s free
hand, using him to complete the seals. He wasn’t going to let go of the older
nin even long enough to get them someplace more appropriate than the hallway
outside the laboratory, and it’s just that kind of impatience, Kabuto
thought, nosing the boy’s chin up to bare his throat for open-mouthed suckling
kisses, that drove him here to begin with, so eager to gain power that nothing
else mattered to him, not even his own eventual fate.

Sasuke shoved him backward before he even felt solid flooring under them again,
a low snarl bubbling on his lips as his kisses turned savage, more teeth than
tongue now as he nipped and sucked bruises down the medic’s neck. His fingers
clawed the thin strip of leather binding his hair free and then buried his hand
in the pale strands as his other arm clamped firmly around Kabuto's slim waist,
his grip tightening inexorably as he tried to bend the other to his own will
and desire.

“Now, now, Sasuke-kun…”

The breathless bemusement in Kabuto’s voice earned him an angry bite to the
crook of his shoulder and dark eyes flashing crimson in warning, and the older
shinobi’s gentle laughter evaporated into a low groan. Strong fingers hooked
his collar and pulled hard enough to split the fabric, and Sasuke’s mouth, hot
and wet and so damned eager, slammed down against the exposed flesh.

“Shut…up…”

Kabuto leaned against the cold wall behind him, eyes narrowing to slits as the
boy’s hands and lips roamed his skin with ferocious intensity, and his fingers
threaded into the messy black hair as Sasuke slid down further and further.

“Just shut up…”

It wasn’t the initial scrape of teeth that sent a jolt down the medic's back
nor the slick heat of Sasuke’s tongue lapping at sensitive flesh that drew a
heady moan from his lips. It wasn’t the sight of the beautiful, prideful Uchiha
on his knees in front of him, one hand wrapped around his hip to steady him
while the other kneaded his buttocks that made his face flush. It wasn’t the
forceful, aggressive way that the younger nin’s mouth worked around his cock
that made it twitch and ache.

What caught Kabuto’s attention and made him arch back wantonly, gasping and
writhing under Sasuke’s attentions, was the figure reclining in the chair in
the corner of the room— the lips that curved up in a wicked smile as sharp and
dangerous as a razor’s edge; the pale hand that drifted up with lazy grace to
push the dark silk curtain of long hair back behind an ear; the slitted amber
eyes that watched them hungrily, brightly glittering in feral amusement.

“O-Orochimaru-sama…”

The name dragged on his tongue, ached on lips swollen and tender from rough
kisses, and the Sannin chuckled raspily upon hearing his name spoken in such a
tone; he didn’t have to touch his subordinate to arouse him.

“Oro—“ Kabuto cut himself off as he sucked in a sharp, jagged breath, mouth
twisting suddenly. “Sasuke-kun, please don’t bite so hard…”

“I told you,” came the muffled answer in broken puffs of breath and swipes of
tongue that eased away most of the burning sting from his teeth, “to shut
up. Twice. Maybe you’re the one who needs something to occupy your mouth.”

Orochimaru licked his lips slowly, smirk broadening in appreciation of the
suggestion, and a hard shiver worked its way down Kabuto's body until it
slipped into his groin, tension twisting tight there like a serpent in his
belly, its coils squeezing in rhythmic ripples, pushing his breath from him in
unsteady gasps as Sasuke’s mouth slid down, all the way down, slow and
sweet and sinfully delicious.

The boy seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and Kabuto didn't have to
strain his imagination to guess how he gained his experience, though he was
more than a little curious how quickly the younger Uchiha prodigy learned this
particular trick and if he'd justified this, like everything else, by telling
himself that perhaps if he played along and pandered to Orochimaru's whims for
now, he'd convince the Sannin of his loyalty and devotion, or his willingness
to go to any lengths to get the power and revenge he was so hungry for.

To that end… Kabuto's shoulders suddenly quivered with laughter, and he bared
his teeth in a grin, his grip on the boy's hair suddenly turning cruelly
iron-fisted as he thrust hard enough into the pretty mouth sucking him to feel
the younger nin's throat tighten reflexively . To that end, Sasuke whored
himself out so completely and so willingly that it was almost pathetic; his desperation
and frustration undermining him and eating away at his strength until all that
was left was the empty shell of crumbling arrogance.

The remaining Uchiha were both psychologically broken, and the medic wondered
as he thrust again- smiling gently down at Sasuke's furious glare which had
lost much of its threat when the boy gagged again and tears overspilled his
narrowed dark eyes, clumping his lashes- if it was possibly because they were
the final products of generations of in-breeding. The crimson whirl of the
sharingan was a recessive mutation of the Hyuuga byakugan, and while the hard
life of the shinobi culture encouraged genetic change and favored beneficial
adaptations, the limited pool that became the Uchiha clan could not originally
have been larger than the dried-up puddle it had now dwindled to.

Poor ignored little brother...so desperate for the strength to regain his
brother's attention that he was on his knees begging for it, his mouth employed
not in language but in a totally wordless plea, and so starved that, despite
his cool disdain for the med nin, despite his own high-bred arrogance, despite
the ache of his dry, spasming throat, the front of his shorts bulged with his
straining erection. Kabuto forced the dark head back, wincing a little as teeth
scraped over sensitive flesh again; blood-colored eyes, red and savage as an
angry polecat's, glowered up at him, and if this sport hadn't been Sasuke's
from the start, then Kabuto might have worried when he saw that and felt the
boy's chakra suddenly ramp up sharply, the electric aura prickling the fine
pale hair on his arms; instead, it was erotic, and the medic grabbed at
Sasuke's dark shirt and whirled sharply, reversing their positions to slam the
younger shinobi up against the wall hard enough to knock the breath from him.

"Sasuke-kun..."

The tip of his nose brushed against his in a slow tease, and his soft lips,
already healed from Sasuke's earlier franticness, captured his in an almost
polite kiss-- he had more control than the younger nin, and there was no reason
to rush, none at all; he could savor the taste of the boy, the taste of
Orochimaru still lingering on the back of his tongue-- and his hand dropped
down his chest, blue-fire chakra slicing through the fabric so delicately that
the skin underneath was unmarked and then flickering out easily as he reached
under Sasuke's thigh and hitched up to pull it around his hip, settling between
his bare spread legs and shifting close.

"I'm going to enjoy making you scream for me."

"Go ahead and try it then."

Sasuke still managed to smirk confidently and wiggle his hips in the cage of
Kabuto's fingers, but the med nin couldn't miss the way that the fire-bright
eyes flicked over his shoulder briefly toward the man sitting silent behind
them watching their play appreciatively, and that single quick glance was
infuriating, arousing-- this was a game, a farce, neither of them really wanted
it, both were hungry for something else, someone else, someone more than
each other, something different and dangerous and sweetly perverse... It was
that little glance more than anything else that made Kabuto need to have
the boy, to take the body his master claimed for his own right in front of him,
and he rocked forward, pressing into him slowly, deliberately; his gaze never
dropped from Sasuke's face as he pushed up, savoring every trace of discomfort
that the cocky Uchiha couldn't manage to suppress- the tightening of his
pretty, pouty lips and weave of fine black brows, the deepening flush that fanned
across the bridge of his nose and across his cheeks.

"Does it hurt, Sasuke-kun?"

Kabuto's smile was sweet as he hilted himself with one final hard shove that
scraped Sasuke's back on the wall and made his face go pale under his hectic
blush, and he suspected that if the boy had the angle and leverage to lean in
closer, he'd be bitten again for that calmly amused little inquiry. Blunt nails
raked down his arms, drawing red-beaded lines that gleamed on his skin even
after the cuts healed shut, but that wasn't real resistance, not considering
the power that trembled in the air around the younger nin like the heady rush
of cool ozone scented wind fronting a thunderstorm. Kabuto half-closed his
eyes, lazy like a pleased cat, back curving gracefully as his hips worked in a
steady rhythm between firmly muscled thighs; the kid was tight, tight all over,
tight like a virgin on the wedding night...though his attitude was anything but
virginal. It hurt; it had to hurt, taking a full-grown man without even
any lube, but he was hard against the medic's belly, his still underdeveloped
cock twitching as it was rubbed between their bodies, and each stroke made the
boy's breath hitch jaggedly, his mouth hanging open, lips lusciously pink and
moist, his face rosy; his eyes were still the trademark scarlet Uchiha
pinwheels, and he stared at Kabuto as through burning his gaze through him, and
Kabuto wanted to laugh, delighted by the wanton display of masochism.

Then slowly the dark head shook in negation. "N-no... No... D-doesn't
hurt..."

Sasuke's voice had dropped into a lower register, deeper and huskier than a
thirteen year old boy's should have been- changes in respiration and bloodflow,
and the relaxation of his throat that altered the tension of the vocal chord
cartilage, the medic knew-- and then he shuddered, red eyes rolling and a
strange sound dropping suddenly from his lips as something dry and cool
tentatively touched his ankle and then wrapped around it, all strong muscle
wrapped in scaled skin smooth and fine as silk. The snake coiled up his leg
effortlessly, its belly scales grating against him as it climbed; it slithered
through the narrow gap between the small of Sasuke's back and the wall, draped
around his hips like a sash, the broad, bluntly triangular head weaving
curiously toward Kabuto. The older shinobi groaned when the reptile touched him
and clutched Sasuke harder, fingers digging into the boy's buttocks as he
pounded into him.

Another serpent, larger than the first, curled around the med nin's feet,
sliding in and out around his shins in infinity, looping endless figure-eights
around his limbs as it surged higher, the heavy length of its body rubbing him
in a lover's caress as it wound up around his sweat-sheened torso, squeezing
his chest in rythymic pulses and nuzzling at his neck and ear delicately. He
tipped his face against his shoulder to fumblingly push his glasses up and
prevent them from slipping off his nose, but more than that, to bare to the
predator wrapped around him the vulnerable column that communicated oxygen and
electrical pulses from his brain down to the rest of his body, exposing and
offering his life, his body, blood and bone. To control the flesh was to
control the ninja…

Rough hands combed through his loose damp hair, calloused palms scratching
against his cheeks, and Sasuke bucked unexpectedly, his eyes closed and brow
furrowed down as he lost himself to pleasure and his own dark interior world,
as he shut out the sight of the poorly-lit room and the pale-haired man fucking
him and their silent observer, groaning low in his throat as though he was in
pain, bleeding from the inside out, though the tremblingly anxious little snaps
of his hips as he rode the older nin's cock were rough and eager, and he pulled
hard to bring Kabuto's mouth down to his own, nibbling and suckling on his
lower lip and panting faint broken whispers of a single word over and over,
voice escalating as he jerked and shuddered in climax.

"Mmm... Br- Brother... Brother!"

The soft cacophonic laughter that sounded from behind him in response to the
boy's moans was the last little nudge needed to shove Kabuto over the edge.

He curled around Sasuke tightly, locking the lovely young body in an
uncompromising, bruising embrace, and rocked him back against the wall as the
hard spasms shook his whole body, gasping deliriously into his ear. The large
snake coiled around him hissed and struck the crook of his shoulder twice, its
needle-fine fangs digging into the bulge of his trapezius, and Kabuto finally
cried out, trembling down. His grip on Sasuke slackened and he pulled away, and
the dark haired boy dropped down to the floor in a cat-like crouch, looking up
with eyes like ruby drops.

Kabuto struggled to catch his breath, lips twisting in a merciless smirk. Brother,
was it? He didn’t even think the boy was aware of what he’d said; he’d been so
wrapped up in himself, fingering the figurative shards of emotional glass
embedded deep in his own heart and mind in shameless psychological algolagnia…
But then, it all made perfect sense to the medic; though Itachi had only spoken
of his family's slaughter once that Kabuto had heard, and he'd never once
mentioned his vengeful younger brother, and more than anything else in the
world, Sasuke resented being ignored, brushed aside contemptuously in
dismissal; Kabuto had seen that in the set of the boy's eyes and aggressive
stance when he'd thrown down the gauntlet in front of him during the chuunin
exams, the way that he put himself between his teammates and someone he perceived
as both a threat to their success and a challenge to his own abilities. His
need for strength and validation wasn't for himself, wasn't for his dead clan,
wasn't for his village or teammates or teacher; it was all for his
brother...who kept Sasuke scrambling frantically after him simply by turning
away. Itachi, more than his useless deadweight, overly-emotional teammates.
Itachi, more than anyone else.

"Kabuto."

The voice was too close to his ear, rasping syllables caressing his skin like
sandpaper, and a cool, long-fingered dead-white hand slipped around his waist
and another grazed knuckles across his face. A long, agile tongue slithered
across the still bleeding gouges on his shoulder slowly, the tip exploring the
deliberately unhealed wounds, but Kabuto didn't have to look to know that the
serpentine eyes were focused on the prized pet watching from the floor, not on
him.

"Orochimaru-sama?"

The Sannin laughed again, his hand splayed out across his subordinate’s stomach
and than stroked downward possessively; his elegant head dipped down to suck
the blood and sweat from the med nin's skin, his long sable-silk hair clinging
to his shoulders like strands of seagrass on damp sand. The dark patterned
snake lazily strung around him in lieu of clothing nosed at him again, rubbing
the side of its face against his ribs, and from what Kabuto could tell,
watching hazily through slitted eyes, the constrictor around Sasuke was doing
much the same, though its body dragged lower, scales buffing his lower belly and
the insides of his thighs; the boy twitched at the caress, but his gaze didn't
waver from the point they were fixated on, just above Kabuto's shoulder.

"It was...lovely."

A shudder trembled down the medic's spine at the praise.

"But I don't remember giving you permission to touch that which is mine."

Sasuke's lips suddenly curved into a wicked little grin and his eyes flared
brighter, dancing like candleflame, and Kabuto recoiled from the younger
ninja's expression as though struck-- the little bastard had played him like
that deliberately to...?

"B-but Orochimaru-sama...!"

Orochimaru chuckled into his ear, a low throaty vibration that shot straight
down to his groin; he was dazed on a cocktail of endorphins and adrenaline,
pleasure and sudden prickling fear, and he felt unexpectedly vulnerable, caught
off guard for the first time in years.

"Questioning me? Your punishment just doubled."

Kabuto's undignified half-strangled noise of shock pleased the Sannin, and his
smile broadened even as he knocked his medic down to his proper place on the
floor and half-turned away. It would be too much of a reward from him to
personally discipline his subordinate, and this would be good experience for
both of his favored underlings, and would serve to remind Kabuto which end of
the leash he was on.

"Sasuke-kun, since he seems so...enamored with you, please, entertain
yourself with him as you'd like, but do try not to kill him."

The boy's smile had never seemed quite so arrogantly malevolent.

"My pleasure."
- 1
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Lemniscate