Chapter 31
A deep ache permeates Orochimaru’s entire body when he wakes up, straight down to the marrow of his bones. He rubs his eye blearily, willing the world to come back into focus.
He’s no stranger to waking up sore, with someone else that he’s taken to bed snoring away beside him. But he never considered that, one day, the person he took to bed would be his former teammate.
Jiraiya is totally down for the count, so deeply asleep that he doesn’t wake or flinch or respond at all when Orochimaru touches his face, trailing the pads of his fingers along the deep laugh lines in his cheeks, along the permanent worry line etched into his brow.
- How much of that line is Orochimaru’s fault?
…And there’s that feeling again.
It’s a feeling that first cropped up when they were young- he thinks maybe twelve or thirteen when he first recognized it.
He remembers where they had been. He was keeping watch while they were resting for the night, somewhere between Iwa and Taki. The weather was cold, as fall was giving way to winter, but they kept the fire down to the barest embers to avoid drawing attention, so it didn’t really give much warmth.
Jiraiya had fallen asleep beside him, swaddled in Sarutobi’s jacket because he’d grown far too quickly for his jacket to properly keep him warm.
He looked so innocent. So peaceful, like he does right now, though of course they’d been so very young back then.
But the feeling is the same.
The inexplicable, overwhelming feeling that he should kill Jiraiya while he sleeps.
In their world, people come and go with little warning. Jiraiya himself has come and gone from his life with little warning at all. Same as Tsunade (who neither of them have seen in so very long).
And he is so very tired.
Tired of people leaving. Tired of everyone leaving him when he desperately wants them to stay. Tired of being taken from.
Corpses can’t abandon you. Dead bodies can never leave.
If he killed Jiraiya right here, right now, he doesn’t have to worry about him ever leaving him again. He’ll never have to wonder when the next bad thing is going to happen, because if he wants Jiraiya back, he’s always got the Edo Tensei. It’ll all be over with. And then, he never even has to worry about Jiraiya saying no to him ever again…
He’s always been such a heavy sleeper, after all. He could strangle him, or slit his throat, or even bash his skull in with the bedside lamp, and he wouldn’t even have the chance to react before he even knew what was happening…
His hands have been wrapped lightly around Jiraiya’s throat the entire time he’s been pondering this, without even registering it. All he would have to do is squeeze it and it would all be over…
Orochimaru yanks his hands away, brushing his hair out of his face and tucking it behind his ears to keep them occupied.
Such thoughts won’t end well. Best to brush them aside for now.
He feels himself shaking, and he wonders if he’s as afraid as he had been when he’d first felt this feeling.
But why should he be afraid?
He leans down to kiss Jiraiya’s neck rather than cut it or throttle him, which is clearly the best option in this situation. Though it does nothing to stop his heart from racing.
The things Jiraiya makes him feel, he isn’t sure he likes at all. But even though he doesn’t like it, he can’t stop it. And for some reason, he doesn’t want the feeling to go away. It’s sort of addictive, like a drug he knows will destroy him someday but he can’t bring himself to quit.
What a horrible way to think about one’s teammate. He knows that. This weird feeling of wanting someone so very badly, but so terrified of having them leave that he wants to shove them away.
Annoying.
And so is the persistent ache in his belly.
With a resigned sigh, Orochimaru reaches down between his legs, mindlessly seeking out relief from the insistent pressure.
He touches himself gingerly, mindful of how sore he is from last night.
Yes, he’s terribly sore. And still terribly wet inside. And so, so terribly sensitive. Bracing himself against Jiraiya’s arm with one hand, he brings himself over the edge without a lot of effort. He bites his tongue to keep his moans at bay, unwilling to risk humiliating himself by waking Jiraiya via masturbation. He’d rather bite his own tongue out than let that happen.
He comes with a full-bodied shudder, managing to keep himself silent.
What the fuck is wrong with me? He wonders, in the back of his mind.
It feels so wrong. Wrong to have slept with him in the first place. Wrong to be jacking off with his teammate so close to him. He feels ashamed, though he was sure he’d abandoned any sort of shame ages ago.
Having this many feelings swirling around in his head is so frustrating. He’s starting to regret this bad idea in the first place.
Annoyed with the feeling, he distracts himself from it by shaking Jiraiya roughly, waking him with a snort and series of confused half-conscious noises.
“Get out of my bed,” he growls, as the man sits up and scratches the back of his head.
“Jeez, fine, fine. I’m up, I’m up, you don’t have to be a dick about it.”
He gives Orochimaru a baffled look- probably wondering why he’s being so cold now when they’d done…well, that, just a few hours before.
Fumbling around, he dresses himself in yesterday’s clothes while mumbling insults under his breath.
Orochimaru dresses himself up with his back turned, grabbing a brush to run through his long, dark hair.
(he toys with the idea of putting on a bit of makeup, but decides he’s not really in the mood for that today.)
“I’ll fetch the rest of your clothes later, so you’re not wearing the same thing forever.”
(Jiraiya kind of wants to tell him that he’s taken to wearing the same outfit for two or three days or even longer, but he doesn’t feel like being called gross this early in the morning.)
“Sounds like a plan. And what about all those brats?”
“They’re my responsibility, so if you don’t want to you don’t have to fuss over them. However-”
He tosses the hairbrush away without caring much where it lands.
“-They do tend to be a handful. I wouldn’t mind having an extra set of hands keeping them under control, if you think you're up to it.”
“I feel like calling them ‘a handful’ is an understatement.”
Fair enough. Orochimaru shrugs and hums in acknowledgement, and it’s around this time they smell that someone’s been cooking.
With a vague motion of his hand, Orochimaru leaves the room. Obeying that motion, Jiraiya follows.
Somehow, some way, there isn’t a fight already started when they finally emerge to face the other residents of this hideaway.
Kabuto is still nowhere to be found (probably to report back to Sasori about something or other), but Kidomaru and Tayuya are actually having a peaceful talk about something or other, each holding one of the rabbits, while the twins chase another one of them a few yards away. Jirobo already has breakfast ready for everyone (though the quality seems dubious), and Naruto is trying to perk up a very grumpy and still half-asleep Sasuke.
When they walk in, Naruto stops pestering Sasuke to wrinkle his nose at them.
“You look like someone tried to beat you up ttebayo.”
Naruto looks so very concerned that the embarrassment of the situation turns both Orochimaru and Jiraiya’s faces bright red. They glance over at each other for a moment, before shaking their heads in unison to assuage his fears.
“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” Orochimaru says, with a shake of his head. “We were just uh-”
“-Sparring,” Jiraiya offers. “Training. When you get old like us, it’s important to keep in shape, you know.”
“Eh? Mom’s not that old though, is he?”
Jiriaya lights up in indignation.
“We’re the same damn age you little brat!” He grumbles.
Tayuya and the twins exchange a look and snicker at how offended he seems.
“But Mom looks so much younger than you!” Naruto protests.
“Yeah whatever, we’re still the same age! And what the hell’s with the mom thing, anyway?!”
“He said I could if I wanted ttebayo!”
“Why the fuck would you say that?!” Jiraiya snaps, turning his head to Orochimaru.
Orochimaru simply shrugs.
“He wanted to- why wouldn’t I?”
“It’s weird! You’re a guy!”
“Am I?”
“What’s that supposed to-”
Jiraiya trails off, the simple question baffling him.
Kimimaro suddenly peers up from over the table, glaring daggers at Jiraiya like he can will the man to go away. Obviously, that doesn’t work.
“Sasuke-kun, where’s your brother?” Orochimaru asks, setting about making a pot of tea.
“Huh? I dunno, guess he’s still asleep, I haven’t seen him yet.”
Weird. Itachi is normally up well before this.
He did seem exhausted when he’d fallen asleep yesterday, though. He’s probably making a fuss over nothing.
Maybe. But his intuition is seldom wrong. So he turns toward Kimimaro, who’s still giving Jiraiya a distrustful glower, and waves at him to get his attention.
“Kimimaro, could you do me a favor and go wake Itachi-kun for me? He needs to eat too, and I’ve got some things I need to discuss with him.”
The boy lights up, leaping up to his feet like a puppy eager to please.
“Where’s he sleeping?” he asks.
“Down the far hall and to the right, third door, I think.”
Kimimaro nods, and darts in the indicated direction.
A few more minutes pass without too much fanfare, until-
A sudden crash, and Kimimaro yelping in fear, snaps everyone to attention. Even Sasuke snaps to full alertness, jumping up toward the source of the sound.
“What on earth is going on-”
Orochimaru gets the answer to his question in the form of Itachi slumped on the floor in a pathetic heap, Kimimaro over him trying to rouse him.
Sasuke joins in, grabbing his shoulder and shaking it.
“Niisan? What’s wrong, Niisan?”
Itachi groans, trying to rise to his feet, but far too weak to manage it. He can’t seem to fully open his eyes, like his eyelids are just too heavy.
“Hey, he’s really warm-” Naruto remarks, wrinkling his nose.
Orochimaru pushes the children aside and lays the back of his hand against Itachi’s forehead.
Naruto is right, the poor boy is practically on fire. And the rattling sound he makes with every breath he takes isn’t a good sign, either.
“He said he was gonna get up, but he-”
Kimimaro trails off, like he lost what he was trying to say.
“Itachi-kun, what’s the matter?
Itachi says something, but it comes out in an incoherent mess. And even though his skin is overheated to the point of burning, his hands are icy, deathly cold.
(Apparently that fever Orochimaru had written off last night shouldn’t have been ignored. He’ll kick himself in the teeth for that later.)
Through his mumbling, Itachi manages to get out something that mostly sounds like “feel funny-”, feebly raising his hands to shield his eyes from the light.
“Niisan, what’s wrong?” Sasuke demands again, worming his way past Orochimaru to fuss over him.
Itachi tries very hard to open his eyes, and manages to crack them maybe halfway. He makes a gesture in the general direction of his chest and mumbled hurts, before letting his eyes fall shut again.
Not good.
“Hey, Itachi-”
“Alright half-pint, up you get.”
Jiraiya plucks the boy up and sets him back on the bed, nudging the other children out of the way so he can be seen to properly.
He doesn’t feel very useful at the moment, beyond being a barricade from nosy children.
Orochimaru mutters furiously to himself, mostly medical stuff that Jiraiya has never understood.
“No good-”
He straightens up and shoos everyone but Jiraiya out while ordering Tayuya to fetch some medication or another.
“What’s up with him?”
“Not sure yet. Nothing good.”
Tayuya comes back with the medication, and Orochimaru coaxes it down Itachi’s throat with a good amount of effort, then lays him down propped up on the pillows.
“What time is it?” he asks, without turning his head.
“Uh, about half past nine?” Jiraiya answers.
“We give it ten minutes. If he’s not any more responsive by then, we have a problem.”
“I think we have a problem already-”
Orochimaru shushes him. And they wait.
They can feel the anxiety of the children just outside the door waiting for the outcome.
Ten minutes stretch into forever. Itachi seems to perk up a little bit, able to fully open his eyes and sit up under his own power, though he looks around in a thick haze, unable to really focus on anything.
Orochimaru does a few tests that the boy does poorly on- follow my hand, how many fingers am I holding up, and so on. The boy gives his best effort, but slurs heavily as he speaks, and has a one hell of a time trying to get his eyes to obey his mind. All the while, his breath is still that horrid, wet, rattling sort of breathing that makes Jiraiya’s skin crawl.
“Hurts,” he mumbles again, grabbing at the front of his shirt.
At this point, they notice the bluish tint to his lips and his fingernails.
Definitely not good.
(Of all the times for Kabuto to be gone.)
Orochimaru curses under his breath.
“Grab him and follow me,” he orders Jiraiya.
The kid is far lighter than he should be for a kid his age, and his wheezing is especially horrible against his ear as he follows to a medical bay.
He may not know what to do here, but he sure can do what he’s told. Even if he doesn’t like feeling stupid in this situation.
In this sort of situation at least, he’s smart enough to know when it’s time to shut up and follow his teammate’s lead.