Amegakure
Jiraiya leans forward and stares at the purple marks that are more prominent when Orochimaru is asleep. They are the same shade of colour as the sky during the period between twilight and dusk, when the amber and the gold have gone violet with streaks of indigo.
He wants to reach out and cup the pale cheek, feel the smoothness underneath his fingertips, but he refrains from doing so, afraid that it will rouse Orochimaru from his sleep. He is a light sleeper at the best of times, even more so now when circumstances are dire, and knowing that this is the first time in ages that he has closed his eyes and allowed himself a proper rest, Jiraiya isn’t going to deprive him of the much-needed sleep his body requires.
Looking at his sleeping teammate tugs at Jiraiya’s heartstrings, like a vicious animal trying to rip off a piece of flesh with sharp fangs, and he has no way of making the pain feel any less prominent, despite both trying to act like things are as they should be during the day.
The beginning of the endless decent to the hell where he is currently suffering started a while ago, before they reached Amegakure and it has continued to get worse, no doubt influenced by the relentless rain that keeps pouring down over them, with Jiraiya finding himself in the hellish situation he is in right now, a situation where he longs to caress someone who will no longer welcome his touch.
It started stupidly with his own growing resentment of the methods Orochimaru had used to get intel about their enemies and their activities.
Jiraiya knows enough about himself to admit that he is a jealous man by nature, and that he really should try not to be, but he can’t help himself once the green-eyed monster inside of him has started to drop poisonous words into his ear to feed his wild imagination.
By now he is well aware that Orochimaru is trained to use his seductive skills as a weapon when necessary, just as they all have been taught to do, but it seems like neither his own talent nor Tsunade’s are very effective in that area.
Not the way Orochimaru is.
So naturally he gets picked for those kinds of assignments more often than the others.
Where Tsunade is undoubtedly female and Jiraiya is equally very manly, Orochimaru has the advantage of looking gender-ambiguous and thereby he has a wider range to work with, being fully aware of how to act appealing to those he needs to attract.
He has a way of charming people despite the eeriness he sometimes manages to exude. When he wants to, he can be extremely beguiling and people tend to look too deeply into his eyes and forget to be careful. They spill secrets and plans like blabbering fools, just for the chance to bask in the limelight of his attention and the bitter part is that Jiraiya knows exactly how that feels, because he craves it just as badly as they do.
These kinds of side missions are a reoccurring source of anguish for him as it will automatically unleash the jealous beast inside of him and he hates who he becomes when influenced by its menacing whispers. No matter how much he might try to supress these thoughts with words of logic, he fails on that account every time.
Tsunade likes to point out that he’s overly possessive, maybe he is, but he can’t help it, Orochimaru has been his to some extent ever since they were children.
During the latest honey trap mission, one man in particular manages to get too close to Orochimaru for Jiraiya’s liking, lecherous hands pawing over a body Jiraiya likes to think of as belonging to him.
That’s not the truth of course, Orochimaru belongs to no one, but Jiraiya is his lover and that’s as close as anyone is going to come in regards to attachment.
Afterwards, when Orochimaru has finished the operation, Jiraiya is in a terrible mood and it quickly leads to a quarrel that spirals out of control, because Orochimaru isn’t fond of being judged for his methods and Jiraiya is too bad at supressing his jealousy.
The situation barely manages to cool down between them before they reach the borders of Amegakure and shortly after a rich merchant makes the bold move of approaching Orochimaru as the trio is passing through a small village.
The merchant is handsome, not that much older than they are, rich and aesthetically well suited to Orochmaru’s unusual looks, both men being pale, slender and fond of silky fabrics even though Orochimaru at the time is dressed in his combat uniform and a drenched poncho.
Brazen, probably on account of his wealth and power, however insignificant and limited it is to this particular area, the merchant orders his carriers to stop his litter and then sends one of them over with a message for Orochimaru to join him for tea at his house. He doesn't ask, he demands and he watches with keen eyes from his cushy position in the litter how his request will be met.
Normally such a request would go ignored, but perhaps their earlier disagreement as well as the terrible weather plays a part in his answer this time around, because to the huge surprise of both Jiraiya and Tsunade, Orochimaru accepts the invitation with a silent nod of his head and leaves them gaping at his retreating back as he makes his way over to the litter and climbs inside, much to the delight of the merchant who gives him an appreciative look.
Orchimaru doesn’t even give his companions so much as a passing glance before the litter disappears down the street, leaving them abandoned in the rain like two drenched rats, Jiraiya clenching his fists in anger while Tsunade for once is too stunned to speak.
When Orochimaru returns the next morning, Jiraiya and Tsunade having spent the night in a cave outside the village, he looks relaxed, almost satiated despite the terrible weather, so it is easy to assume that he must have spent the night at the merchant’s house, not just joining him for a cup of tea.
Jiraiya is incandescent with rage at the thought of might have happened and the situation quickly escalates, no matter how much Tsunade tries to step between them and make peace.
Orochimaru neither denies nor confirms that he has shared a bed with the merchant, he doesn’t think he owns anyone an explanation, especially not someone who has already made his mind up about what he has been doing anyway.
This of course only aggravates Jiraiya even further and while Orochimaru grows condescendingly sneering and sharp-tongued, his teammate turns apoplectic with jealous anger, full of accusations and claims that Orochimaru makes no attempt to contradict.
Tsunade finally succeeds with breaking up their argument by pointing out that they are here to fight a war, not squabble like children.
Orochimaru harrumphs and just pulls his poncho tighter around himself before marching off in a huff while Jiraiya glares daggers at his back, his mind still visualising what the merchant was offered as a reward for his hospitality.
They eventually, after an arduous trek through the relentless rain, approach the area were other ninjas from Konoha are gathered, waiting for their arrival.
Orochimaru shares the knowledge he has gained from his intel side mission and there is no time to properly sort out any disagreements between them now, they are no longer alone and all their focus is on the fight against Hanzo who is as formidable an opponent as they were told before coming to Amegakure.
The battle begins the next morning and they all turn into killing machines with only victory on their minds, their humanity deeply buried inside of them until the fight is over.
When becoming the only remaining ninjas alive and graced with the nickname of the legendary sannin by their enemy before he departs, the evening that follows is the first time in what feel like ages when Jiraiya has the chance to properly look at Orochimaru and take him in, the tension that is still lingering in his movements as they rest, his narrowed eyes and his soaked black hair resembling spilt oil running down his back in rivulets.
They are still thawing from the coldness of their fighting personas, and it gets harder with every fight they endure to get back to themselves afterwards.
Jiraiya misses Orochimaru but they haven’t made peace yet and he is too proud to make the first move, probably because he thinks he shouldn’t be the one to make it anyway.
At the same time he knows that he is wasting precious time being angry at something he doesn’t know if he even has any right to be angry about.
His jealous imagination is certainly not a reliable source and knowing Orochimaru he probably charmed the merchant enough to earn himself a night in a soft bed but managed to turn the cocky man away by bedtime just by playing hard to get.
Jiraiya knows all about that game after all, having been on the receiving end of it many times in the past.
And it feels like he is there once more, on account of the bad mood that managed to tip the scale unfavourably to their disadvantage by putting a wedge between them that wouldn’t need to be there in the first place if Jiraiya hadn’t lost his temper and Orochimaru hadn’t been affronted by his behaviour.
So when night falls, the rain not much more than a drizzle for once, and Tsunade has fallen asleep with her head against a fallen tree trunk, slightly snoring from exhaustion, Jiraiya takes the opportunity to move closer to Orochimaru in an effort to break the ice.
But Orochimaru does no welcome the effort.
Instead he turns his face away when Jiraiya leans in to kiss him.
With whispering hisses their argument starts all over again and this time the pain of rejection is making Jiraiya more desperate and agitated, his voice growing louder until Orochimaru suddenly takes his chin in a firm grip, forcing him to look into those familiar golden eyes, the feeling of dread making his gut clench as he stares straight into them, his words dying on his lips, the grip around his chin making him grimace in pain.
“I think it’s time to end things between us, it’s starting to become a distraction and I’m beginning to grow tired of all the arguing,” Orochimaru informs him in that hoarse whispering tone that he uses when he tries to remain calm but is seconds away from losing his composure. “It’s quite honestly too draining and with everything else happening around us, I don’t have the energy to spare for your childish eruptions, Jiraiya.”
It hits him like a sucker punch straight to the gut, he loses his ability to breathe and as Orochimaru releases the grip of his chin, he falls down on his knees in the mud, reaching for locks of black hair that are just out of reach as Orochimaru puts distance between them by moving over to a rock that he leans against while Jiraiya feels himself crumble to pieces, silently unravelling while the world around him remains the same cold wet hell it has been for ages now.
Unexpectedly he doesn’t throw a fit or starts arguing back like he normally would.
He can tell that it’s too late for that, it won’t earn him any favours, it won’t make a difference. Orochimaru has made his mind up and decided the ending for the both of them.
He wishes that he could do something about the pain that is welling up inside of him, it feels like he is choking on bile, as if he is being ravaged from the inside by merciless claws and despite his capability, his strength, his talent, he can’t do a damn thing to make it stop.
So he swallows and swallows, trying to find the ability to breathe properly while his sight turns nebulous from dampness that is threatening to turn into tears. He bites his lips until they bleed and eventually the pain forces the tears back, they won’t be falling despite his desire to break down and scream out his agony.
So he keeps swallowing bile throughout the night and when morning comes and Tsunade wakes from her slumber, Jiraiya knows that he looks like he’s made of stone, but he hasn’t fallen to pieces and that’s a victory, no matter how small.
That was two weeks ago and tonight as he sits by Orochimaru’s sleeping form, staring down at him and those purple marks around his eyes, he feels exactly the same pain as he has felt ever since that fateful night when Orochimaru decided that ties needed to be cut and their time as lovers came to an end.
He refrains from reaching out but still lifts his hand to hover across the relaxed features, trailing his fingers along the sharp cheekbones without actually touching them, the soft lips that he can recall kissing so desperately, calling out to him, making his other hand curl up to prevent himself from leaning forward.
If people knew that the normally flirtatious Jiraiya was afraid to go in for a kiss they would laugh in surprise. He is used to rejection, he has suffered from it his entire life and yet, he never felt like this before, he has always been able to laugh it off, step away from the situation and move on.
But now he can’t and it frightens him because he doesn’t understand why this is the case.
Deep down he knows that Orochimaru was right for calling out their constant arguing, that it took away their focus from more important matters.
But damn if it didn’t hurt to hear him say it.
He has feared Orochimaru’s desire to break free and follow his own ambitions for a long time now and even if he himself has boasted of dreams about travelling the world, he never pictured himself doing it on his own.
He fears what might happen to them when they return to Konoha. He doesn’t know if he can face returning there.
Hiruzen will figure it all out, see right through his pain, because their former sensei knows everything about them, and Jiraiya knows that he won’t be able to stand the pity in those old familiar eyes, just as he won’t be able to stand seeing Orochimaru every day without being able to touch him the way he was allowed just a few weeks ago.
He doesn’t know what to do with himself when he is like this, so he just remains on his knees next to Orochimaru’ sleeping form until desire wins out and he stops hovering with his hand on a safe distance from the face and instead breaches the space between them with the intention to touch after all.
“Don’t.”
Slits of golden yellow stare up at him, cold and hard.
His hand freezes mere millimetres from the pale skin, his heart pounding like a frantic bird caught in a trap until the words sink in and he withdraws his hand and slowly rises from the knelt down position, to crawl back to the space by the fire where he is supposed to keep watch.
When Tsunade wakes an hour later to take over night watch, Jiraiya pretends to fall asleep immediately.
The next day they encounter three orphans that insist on following them.
Orochimaru, expectedly, is not amused, he thinks they would be better off being killed, that way it won’t prolong the agony of trying to survive in a place like this that holds no life for them.
Tsunade does not exactly disagree with that logic, she isn’t particularly fond of children anyway, even if she isn’t as brutal as Orochimaru when he makes his suggestion.
Something about the aversion of returning to Konoha, of seeing what he once had, now having slipped through his fingers, the dissolution of the bond between the three of them, particularly between him and Orochimaru, sends a supressed howl of pain through Jiraiya and he knows that he can’t return.
The role he has played during the war, as well as the things he has lost during that time, among them the person he loves the most, makes him desperate and erratic.
He feels anger towards Orochimaru for making such cold and callous decisions, not only about the ending of their relationship but also regarding the fate of those three orphans. His cruel logic cuts like a scalpel and Jiraiya feels resentment swell inside of him, strong and overwhelming, making him utter words that he isn’t prepared for but he can’t take back once their out.
He is going to stay behind and take care of the kids.
He can tell that Orochimaru freezes to the spot for a second, it’s there like a shadow crossing his features, so miniscule that you would miss it if you didn’t know him. But Jiraiya is paying close attention and he sees and feels a stupid, pointless swell of satisfaction for being the one in charge, just this once. The one able to inflict pain and surprise.
That’s not his particular talent, that’s more Orochimaru’s area of expertise, so it feels nice to have switched roles, just this once.
He wonders if Orochimaru feels the same pain he does. It’s hard to tell, it never shows on his features, just that quick moment of shock, then gone again, his usual look of slight disdain back in place, letting Jiraiya know that he’s a fool for doing what he is about to do, but not surprised over stupid ideas coming from him after all.
Then they part.
Jiraiya doesn’t know it then but he ends up staying with the kids for three whole years.
He learns to cope, to make those days matter and he rarely speaks about his former teammates.
They have so much else to talk about, like training, and food, how to cope on their own once they grow older and the days pass by like waterdrops slipping through fingers on a rainy day.
But the memory of long black hair, still snared around his heart, is always there at the back of his mind, tugging and twisting, as if to remind him of what he has lost and when he finally leaves the kids to their own devices, secure in the knowledge that they will survive, he knows exactly where his steps will lead him, with hope and dread in his heart.