Scars
Stitches. They line his body all over and litter the Glasgow smile that permanently disfigured his face. Stitches that come undone and then are resown by the inky black threads that make up his body, distort his appearance as well as the chakra pathways that normally should be present but now are not. All because of an impulse decision that led to a stupid permanent choice. A choice which sometimes admits was a mistake.
Stitches that he hates. A reminder of the ghosts and deep rooted trauma of his past. Memories that he would soon forget if the walls in his mind would stop crumbling each and every night when he falls asleep. PTSD fueled nightmares of the memories of incarceration. The abuse and torture. The humiliation and shame. Things that haunt every last miniscule second of his existence. Things that have caused him to grow cold.
Scars on the brain, scars on the body, scars on the heart. His body has seen more battles than the average man. Yet here he still lives. Still stands. Still moves forward almost on autopilot as he hunts down men with bounties only caring about the monetary value that comes with such.
But then there was him. A light. A beacon in the dark tumultuous sea he was afloat on. Someone so unlike him, yet like him in so many ways. Someone who irritated him yet he loved. Every last scarred and stitched inch of him loved him with every inky black fiber of his being.
Age is just a number to them. And the two had many a year in between. But with immortality, counting becomes a nuisance. And the two stopped paying attention to age a long time ago. Although the masked man was ambivalent about the topic, they both couldn’t die by normal means so till death do us part did not apply.
“What’s on your mind old fuck?”
“Not now Hidan.”
The older retorts at the pale faced silver haired man.
“Well something’s up with the way you're staring off into space.”
The two had been walking for some time and stopped to rest for a while. Age was catching up to the ragdoll of a man even if he chose not to admit it. He sighs and glares back at the happily stupid gaze of the younger who seemingly couldn’t take his eyes off of him.
“I'm contemplating things Hidan. I would prefer to do so alone.”
“Contemplatin’ what?”
Hidan asks in a sing-song voice which, although he would never ever admit out loud, was slightly adorable. Kakuzu sighs knowing he won’t stop being bothered if he doesn't speak what’s on his mind.
“My past. Now drop it.”
The young Jashinist looks confused. His lover, a blessing from his lord. A gift from Jashin himself. Chiseled jaw and tanned skin. Muscular and strong. The long black hair, the emerald and ruby eyes, those stitches. Every last inch of this man before him ignited him in a way that no other ever had.
“What about it old fuck?” The younger asked quizzically.
“I said drop it.”
“Nope. N, O, spells no and I am not dropping the fucking subject.”
The older man sighs in irritation as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Fine. Im having a day where I regret my kinjutsu okay? Can you drop it now?”
“Regretting it? Fuck man, its like the coolest shit ever. Your like a permanent rag doll that can fuck people up… and make me cum with a cock made of threads while you suck me off!”
“You're not helping here.”
“Just take the fucking complement or whatever.”
“No.”
Hidan is now upset. Complements are usually not his thing and he is trying here. Trying so hard to make his lover feel better. Trying to let him know that he accepts him for who he is, yet it isnt working in the slightest.
“Im just tryna make you feel better… cause I love you and shit…”
The younger states are barely audible as he stares at the floor embarrassed.. But this… so unlike him… so disgustingly cute and sweet… makes the older pause.
Footsteps walk towards the silver haired man and two feet meet his eyes. A hand reaches down and caresses the side of his cheek as the older kneels down to meet him at eye level.
“I know you are. My scars… there not just the ones on my skin Hidan. It’s the ones on my heart that hurt the most. Some have healed and some won't. Do you know what has made some of them heal?”
Hidan shakes his head slowly. And the older smiles as he tilts the downcast man's head so that they meet at eye level.
“You Hidan. It’s you.”