Actions

Work Header

consideration

Work Text:

Now arrangements are settled now let me be
Proud of the man who I feared to be
I’ll stumble around like a lonely boy
I’ll learn the way to the bottom of every joy
 
I know this tower I know this city clock
I know the very second your door will unlock
I’ll watch your ankles climb the stairs
And I’ll wrap myself into your raven hair

Warhaus: Kreusch

 

 

Itachi had a pretty clear feeling, that this wasn’t one of his brightest ideas. But then again, the other possibilities weren’t that appealing as well.

He had gotten the permission last week; just a note, handed over from one of his superiors in ANBU: The village had decided that he would be able to accomplish seduction missions now.

It wasn’t a common thing to be assigned for such missions, in fact it was rather unusual. But the possibility existed. He didn’t like the feeling that others would decide about his private life, let alone his sexuality. He had experience, of course. But it was also clear, that the most targets for seduction wouldn’t be girls around his age; people in charge, people worthy to infiltrate and spy on were, as a rule, men. Men at a certain age.

And he never slept with a man before.

The notion that the council could decide when he had to experience intimacy with another man the first time made him angry—even furious. He clenched his fists at this thought, gritted his teeth behind constricted lips. No. It wasn’t going to be this way. Itachi had decided, that it would be his decision, when, where and with whom he would experience that. He would never allow anybody else to take this responsibility away from him.

Itachi kicked a stone away, flipping over the street and vanishing in the high grass nearby the old gravelled lane. He liked the old districts at the village borders, huddled against the edge of the thick woods surrounding Konohagakure, like a warm, dark embrace. He liked to roam through the thicket, preferred to train under the heavy, umbrageous canopy of leaves. Because he knew his way around here, he also knew who was living at the borders, at the forest’s side.

He had made a list, mentally shifting through all the male shinobi he knew, trying to imagine himself with one of them. It wasn’t one of the most pleasant duties he ever did so far—in a matter of fact, it made him feel pretty uncomfortable—but he considered it a necessary evil.

After going through the problem in his mind, he had been clear about one thing: It wouldn’t be very clever to sleep with someone, who was as inexperienced as he was. He looked for someone who knew what he was doing. He wanted this to be pleasant, of course, but he wanted to make use of the situation as much as possible, too. He wanted to feel confident afterwards. Wanted to learn something about himself. Also, everyone within his clan was out of the question; unless he wanted the gossip to be carried to his family’s ears. The last thing he needed was some embarrassing conversation with his parents.

All that in mind, the variety of possible partners wasn’t that large. A man with some experience without being too old to make him feel uncomfortable—who was he kidding; to disgust him—, who was discreet, wouldn’t expect anything more than just this one occasion. And, last but not least, was appealing to him.

That had made the list quite short.

Itachi sighed.

He stood in front of the door, hesitating just for one more moment, before he raised his hand to knock on the old wood. He waited. Nobody answered. He couldn’t hear any steps. He knocked again and waited another minute and didn’t know if he should feel disappointed or relieved. Itachi turned to leave, but stopped after one step. He declined his head, concentrated. He focused on his surroundings and felt the chakra signature he was looking for behind the house.

Itachi buried his hands in the pockets of his trousers and entered the porch, following it around the old house. The man he was looking for sat on the porchstairs leading in the backyard, sun-drenched wood, stone and grass. Two snakes lay on the warm stone, enjoying the sun like their summoner. He lowered the cup of tea in his hand and put it at his side on the porch ground, leading his eyes up to Itachi, an expression of astonishment on his face.

“Itachi-kun. What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry for intruding, Orochimaru-san. I’ve knocked, but you didn’t answer.”

“Hm. Didn’t hear that.” There was the smallest hint of amusement in these golden, serpentine eyes, betraying the lie, that easily slipped from his lips. Orochimaru took the cup again and sipped on the warm tea. “And how may I help you, Itachi?”

Itachi inhaled deeply. “I have a request for you, that might be…peculiar.”

“Oh? Namely?”

“I want you to sleep with me.”

Orochimaru froze in his motion, the cup at his lips and swallowed hard, nearly chocked on his tea. He sat the cup aside, blinked up to him. “Could you repeat yourself, please?”

Itachi felt the discomfiture growing, afraid to blush in front of Orochimaru. He clenched his fists slightly and released them again. “I don’t have any experience with men and I want to decide for myself, with who I make them.”

Orochimaru considered his answer. He watched Itachi thoroughly, like he was waiting for a sign that this could be trap. Eventually, he spoke the only assumption occurring to his mind, which could make Itachi choose exactly these words. “You got the permission.”

“Yes.”

“I see.” There was something in Orochimaru’s eyes, Itachi hadn’t expected there. Concern. “And why, of all possibilities, did you come to me?”

“I’m trusting you to don’t make this unnecessary complicated.” That brought him a soft, dark chuckle. “You’re no one to chinwag about it and…”

“…and?”

“I find you attractive.”

If it wasn’t for his words, it was for the smirk spreading across Orochimaru’s face that made him blush deeply with embarrassment. “My, my. Is that so?” He reached for his tea cup again, let it linger just before his lips, glaring up in his eyes. “Uchiha-sama, I’m flattered!”

Itachi rolled his eyes and sighed in desperation. “Stop messing around and let’s talk business.”

“What”, he laughed mischievously, “are you going to pay me?”

Itachi looked down at the floor, clenching his fists even tighter, as he tried to steady his composure. It had been a foolish, a bad idea, and he knew it. Sometimes it was for the best to make such experiences to avoid them in future. That would be a lesson to him. From all people in Konoha he had to pick the biggest asshole available.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time, Orochimaru-san.”

His voice was flat and toneless, and he turned around to leave, trying hard to avoid the impression of taking flight. He was such an idiot, such an idiot—

“Itachi—stay.”

He casted a glance back his shoulder, watched Orochimaru rising to his feet. There was this smirk on his lips again, while he dusted off the trousers of his uniform, leaning back against the wooden column of the porch, folding his arms in front of him. “I didn’t wish to mock you. So, let us talk clearly. I appreciate your trust, but what will you give me in return?”

Itachi blinked. “You’re going to have my body.”

“Though I’m inclined to defer to it—virgins are boring. They don’t know, what they want.”

“I’m no virgin!

“You never slept with a man, that makes you in this case virginal. Furthermore, you are here, because you chose from a pool of candidates you selected under certain criteria, with of these maybe leading to the assumption, that your chosen partner will make the experience pleasurable for you. Which in turn means that I will have to learn about what you like and what not. Currently, you’re not able to give me this information, so I have to take special care of you. That’s no problem at all. It just means, I have to be more…attentive.”

Itachi’s eyes didn’t fade from Orochimaru’s, and although he felt increasingly deficient while listening to all these points, which hadn’t crossed his mind until now, he grew more confident to have made the right choice. A small smile tugged at Itachi’s lips. “What do you want in return?”

“DNA.”

“In which form?”

“A strand of your hair and samples of blood and saliva. What do you say?”

That Orochimaru was going to pull him over the barrel. He would already be given control over him, he even would get a leverage against Itachi, if he ever decided to use it. (That, he didn’t believe. He chose Orochimaru for a couple of reasons, and his professionalism as well as his almost paranoid shielding of his private life were two of those.) He made himself already vulnerable, but to give him his DNA, Uchiha-DNA, would mean going too far.

“No.”

“Too bad.”

Crickets clittered in the late, warm afternoon. To avoid Orochimaru’s glance of appraisal, Itachi’s eyes felt upon the snakes, curled up on a garden stone. He could swear that he saw malice in the animals’ eyes.

“So, you want to be paid for it.”

Itachi smirked faintly, provoking another grin from Orochimaru in venomous amusement. He shrugged lightly and stroke a few strands of hair out of his face. “It was worth trying.”

“It seems that I can’t compensate you for your troubles”, that elicited another laugh from his superior, “so just tell me, are you interested in me or not?”

Orochimaru’s smirk faded into a more courteous smile, rare enough to see on his face, since Itachi could remember him during his time in ANBU in just two states: serious and considerate, and nasty and cruel. But that was the reason he was here, wasn’t it? Orochimaru took his superior position seriously, just as his tasks and his subordinates, even if that meant someone had to deal with his wicked sense of humour—much different to Hatake Kakashi, who sometimes didn’t seem to take anything seriously. He had thought about it thoroughly, and he didn’t believe to find anyone else in Konoha, who would attach enough importance to his ‘problem’, who applied to the criteria he set up and attracted him. The most attractive men in this village, however, were idiots.

“Tomorrow, at twenty hundred. Fine with you?”

“Fine.”

Itachi left the place, feeling Orochimaru’s stare in his back. The feeling rising in his stomach was a complicated knot, a bundle of various sentiments—apprehension, relief, excitement, nervousness, anxiety, insecurity and a thrill of anticipation. Somehow he managed to bear these feelings for the next more than 24 hours. More than once he decided to cancel the whole undertaking. But then again, it was for his own benefit  a n d  he couldn’t stand the thought of backing down in front of one of his superiors. Orochimaru of the densetsu no sannin. He couldn’t afford to be cowardly. Not after Orochimaru had complied and therewith had shown interest in him. He smiled slightly at the thought.

He spent the night and the next day growing nervous. He tried to concentrate on his duties and avoided the company of others—“not now, Sasuke”—in order to mask his mixed feelings. The last he needed, was his inner fight of doubts and tension plastered on his face.

When the sun set, he found himself again in front of the old house. He looked over the façade, took a deep breath and felt the agitation spreading through his whole body, curling into his toes. He knocked. This time he heard footsteps behind the door.

The door opened and Itachi looked up to Orochimaru. He didn’t wear his uniform, nor one of his yukata or kimono, just simple cloth trousers and a black shirt. Orochimaru raised an eyebrow. He seemed—staggered.

“Itachi-kun?”

“It’s twenty hundred, isn’t it.”

Orochimaru stared at him bewildered for one long blink. “I didn’t expect you to come.”, he confessed, although he opened the door further, wide enough to let Itachi enter as he invited him inside with a brief gesture of his head.

Itachi slipped through pass Orochimaru, smiling in composed satisfaction about this little triumph. He didn’t expect him to come? So he had been as mistrustful in Itachi’s courage as he himself, and he was so very proud of himself to have managed overpowering his fears and concerns that the quiet click, with which the door closed shut in his back, didn’t fret him. Instead he found the confidence to take in his surroundings with pure, overt curiosity.

He took off his shoes and put them next to Orochimaru’s on the floor, leaving the genkan to feel dark, smooth wood under his feet. Itachi didn’t know what he had expected. Orochimaru was the head of Science & Research in ANBU-ne, having a reputation for sleeping more often in his office than at home. But whatever he might have had in mind, the place was quite—pleasant. The living room was spacious, light-flooded through the last sun rays squeezing through the treetops of the forest’s outskirts, nestled up to the plot boundary. On the coffee table at the sitting area lay a pile of papers, sorted neatly. Although it was an old clan-house the furniture was modern, the walls covered with bookshelves, full with books, scrolls and papers. The smell of fresh brewed tea lay in the air. This was almost…cozy.

“Tea?”

He almost forgot about Orochimaru. “No, thanks.”

“Straight to business, hm?” The Sannin passed by him, smirking at Itachi. He stepped up to a shoji and opened it, revealing the room behind. The sun had wandered further and this room was wrapped in twilight. Before Itachi could enter, Orochimaru turned back to him. He looked down at the younger man, locking their gazes into another, while the smirk remained on his lips, gracing his features. Now with the hitai-ate gone from this forehead, his silky, obsidian black hair fell unhindered around his face, wild strands tickling above his white skin. “Before we go on, we should make a few things clear.”

Itachi didn’t falter under his eyes. He nodded quietly.

“If you want me at any time to stop, just say it—we won’t use any silly safe words, will we? If you feel anxious, afraid or if I hurt you—say ‘stop’. It’s as simple as that. I won’t continue before you tell me to do.

“But you should also know that I’m not the type of guy for flower-cuddle-sex. Understood? I will show you the depths of this kind of pleasure you’ve avoided so far. This, though, requires you to trust me and you will need to do, whatever I tell you to. Do you trust me, Itachi?”

“Yes.” He knew that his words should assure him, but he felt the anxiety and tension in his stomach growing again. His words should be a safety net. No trap without escape. However. He was afraid. And he hated himself for being afraid.

“Mhm. That’s a lie. We will see, if you can cope with the situation.”

He walked in the dim room and Itachi followed him. It was a study. Itachi couldn’t do otherwise as be shifty-eyed again when he stood in the study of Konoha’s best scientist. He glanced at the files, the papers spread across the desk, piles of books and scrolls at the floor where they didn’t fit any more in the bookshelves, papers and diagrams stuck to the walls where they weren’t covered with bookcases. He didn’t understand anything, of course. He might be called a genius, just like Orochimaru, but columns of figures, equations and formulas weren’t his strength.

The Sannin walked through the room to another shoji and revealed the bedroom behind. It was modest, just a double bed at the wall on the other side of the room, a bedside table and a wardrobe. Itachi heard the shoji shut behind him and didn’t move. His gaze was fixed on the blank sheets, on the book laying on the bedside table. He was wondering what the Sannin would be reading in bed. Judging from the spare furnishing of the bedroom and the fact, that he had to step through a bloody study to go in here, he supposed, that Orochimaru spent most of the day, when not in his office or in the laboratories, in his study, just needed to take a few steps when he would eventually get tired, to fall in bed. The book, however, implied that his observation wasn’t quite true.

Itachi was awfully aware, that he was trying to distract himself, and that Orochimaru was watching him. He could sense him in his back, studying his posture, his breathing. Then, he finally heard footsteps, quiet, soft, nearly inaudible. He felt the man in his back, without contact. His breath as he inhaled his scent. Itachi felt the shadow of his fingers, ghosting by a hair’s breadth above his tense shoulders. Fingertips finally touched his hair. Feeling a strand of raven black hair between his index finger and thumb. Itachi shivered and cursed himself for it.

He could feel the impact eventually, Orochimaru leaning in closer, the slightest motion, enough to let him feel the softest touch in his back of the taller man’s body. He could feel his warmth, his very closeness. Itachi closed his eyes and breathed deeply, opened them again, as he felt Orochimaru’s fingers cupping his chin. The Sannin leaned close to him, above his shoulder, leading Itachi to incline his head, wide enough to feel his breath on his lips. Itachi looked in his eyes and felt ice-cold and red-hot shiver running down his spine, saw the hunger, the avidity in his eyes, felt fear and content to be the catalyst of them.

Itachi knew that Orochimaru wouldn’t guide him any further but let the moment of decision be up to him, and he closed his eyes, leaned into the soft hold of his fingers and brushed his lips against Orochimaru’s.

It didn’t feel different from kissing women. Orochimaru’s lips were thin but soft and warm, the pressure of his kiss delightful and not demanding, calm and eased. Itachi felt the tip of his tongue against his lips and he complied, opened his mouth wide enough to let his tongue slip between his lips to reach for his. Soft and pleasant, a slow dance, gradually and as if they had all the time in the world growing more demanding, possessive, Orochimaru’s fingers sliding from his chin up to his cheek, caressing the soft skin of his face, while he wrapped his other arm around his waist, lightly. His tongue enmeshed with Itachi’s, guiding him, let him feel warmer with every elapsing minute he staid in his arms and responding to his kiss, interrupting the play of his tongue to suck gingerly at Orochimaru’s lips.

It didn’t feel, but it tasted different. It was more rough, tart, a bit bitter,—he couldn’t help himself but to think about the word ‘primitive’—somehow wild, if ‘wild’ could be a taste. It wasn’t unpleasant, just different.

Itachi leaned closer, got accustomed to his proximity, liked the taste of his kiss. He pressed his back against his chest, his bottom against Orochimaru’s hips. He was quite disappointed to find Orochimaru unaffected.

To be exact, he felt irritated.

Itachi was here to share himself with him, to allow Orochimaru to have him for his first time with a man, and when he felt the impact of their shared kiss, the growing heat in his middle, the tension fading from anxiety to excitement, he had to realise that Orochimaru seemed quite non-excited. Was it so indifferent to him? He couldn’t have so much control over his body, could he?

Itachi turned to Orochimaru entirely, determination in his eyes and intended to kiss that smug smile on his lips away. He pressed his teeth in Orochimaru’s bottom lip, sucked on it and let his own tongue glide into his mouth, explored him, took hold of his shoulders and allowed him to pull him closer. He felt the sinewy muscles of his senpai beneath the cloths, the heat radiating from his body, the strength hidden in slender limbs, constricted inhuman might in every soft touch of his fingertips, and it excited him. His fingers clawed in the fabric of Orochimaru’s shirt, tucked at it, felt the other’s hands wandering down to his hips to guide him backwards, and Itachi followed his order until he felt the bed pressing against his knees.

Itachi sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands gliding to Orochimaru’s trousers he began to open, full of resolution to break his composure.

“Are you sure, you know, what you’re doing?”

Itachi shot him a fierce look. Orochimaru smirked down at him, amusement in his eyes, curiosity.

“Quite.”

“Just because a sweet girl had been so nice to offer you that enjoyment, doesn’t mean so can you. I’ll show you.” He reached out to stroke slender fingers across Itachi’s face, tracing his soft lips, waited patiently until Itachi opened his mouth and slid two fingers between his lips. “Cover your teeth with your lips and apply some pressure with them. Use your tongue to stimulate additionally. Now take my fingers in deeper. And withdraw to my first knuckles. Repeat. Good. If you have mastery of this, you might be able to get everything from your target you want, without removing your clothes. And remember—although men believe they are in charge, if someone is pleasuring them that way, they are helpless. If someone tries to get rough with you during this, remember your teeth, Itachi.” Orochimaru withdrew his fingers from Itachi’s mouth, undid his trousers, which felt to the floor and kicked them by side. Itachi eyed him. He was half aroused, at least. “Furthermore—forget about any bullshit you might have heard about getting it as deep in your throat as possible. Take as much as you are feeling comfortable with, and for the remain use your hands. You can drive a man to insanity with your tongue alone, if you know how.”

He stepped closer, allowed Itachi to took him in his hand, very aware of Orochimaru’s gaze, who watched him attentively. “Sexual identity is a concept, Itachi. Don’t be afraid to try something initially uncomfortable to learn something about yourself.” Itachi raised his eyes, saw in his, astonished about the calmness in his voice, the soothing comfort his words granted. He wasn’t going to stop it now. He wanted this experience, and so he took him in his mouth, closed his lips around the tip of his member and did as Orochimaru had shown him. He felt a twitch in his manhood as it hardened under his touch, swelled between his lips to a more impressive size. He pressed a smirk against his hard flesh as he heard a soft sigh escaping in the calm air.

He kneaded his shaft with his lips, pressed his tongue against it, encircled the tip when he withdrew to it, took him in deeper and covered the lower part with his hand to press it in the rhythm of his moving lips. When he felt more confident, he began to suck at him, looking up to observe his reaction.

Orochimaru’s eyes were half closed, covered from a veil of pure lust, hungry and greedy. It let him tremble, he sucked even harder, concentrating his efforts at the tip of his hardness, where he tasted the first drops of him.

“Slow down”, Orochimaru said, his voice raspy, breathless, “or you’ll finish me off too soon.”

Itachi felt the throbbing of his member, released it from his lips, licked at him still, more slowly, until he felt the soft touch of gentle fingers in his hair. Itachi let go, and Orochimaru took off his shirt und tossed it to the floor, baring every single part of his slender, deadly, perfect body to Itachi’s eyes; without hesitation, no shame, no insecurity. The younger ninja watched him do this, studied the assurance the Sannin did have with his own body and his appeal. He wanted to copy this self-certitude and undressed as well, unveiled himself to Orochimaru’s hungry eyes, which devoured his body. Finally, he did have his full attention. Itachi sighed, his breath stuck in his lungs, as he felt the touch of cool air at his skin, felt exposed and vulnerable, while he shoved himself further up the bed, gazed up to his partner, feeling uncomfortable and special under his gaze at the same time, desired and harassed. He was proud to educe such craving from one of Konoha’s most deadly soldiers, to get the interest of this genius he silently admired for his might and power and intelligence. And at the same time, he wanted to run away. To sink into the ground, disappearing and to be invisible. He wasn’t sure if he could bear his stare and undivided attention any longer.

His fingers clawed into the sheets beneath him, he dragged his knees nearer to his upper body unconsciously and tensed again.

Orochimaru broke his rigidity as he realised Itachi’s anxiety, kneed down on the sheets and tended over him. Long wisps of his light, silken hair kissed the naked skin of Itachi’s shoulders, liquid onyx flowing down his chest, velvet soft, as he leaned closer, and Itachi caught the finest smile playing on Orochimaru’s lips, before he was able taste them again.

Itachi laid his hands upon his shoulders, shivered slightly in excitement and anxiety as Orochimaru slid on top of him, his body so smooth and warm, that he couldn’t help but relaxing under him.

With a soft moan the snake summoner bit his tender lips, caressed his body, skilful fingers tracing his lean muscles and young, soft skin, wandering down to his hips, which he seized with a firm, though gentle, hold. Reluctantly Itachi let off from Orochimaru’s lips, gasping breathless, wishing for more but would be fortunate and totally fine, if anything he was achieving from this night was to taste the skilfulness of such talented kisses.

His lips however left his mouth, ghosted past his chin down his neck, buried himself against his soft, white throat, scratching carefully with sharp fang-like teeth, sucking tenderly, his hands sliding down deeper, scrutinising his body, shoved them under his legs to encompass his buttocks with palpating fingers.

Itachi’s breath faltered under the sudden sensation, his greedy fingers surprisingly pleasant, tempting him to relax further into his touch. He closed his eyes, moaned quietly, shivered under the sensation of skin upon skin, as Orochimaru laid between his legs, parting them with his own. He watched him when he interrupted the exploration of his body to raise himself and reached out for the bedside table’s drawer. Orochimaru took some of the lubricant from the bottle on his fingers leisurely, before he moved down again. Itachi felt soft lips whispering across his abdomens, biting his trembling muscles. His lips nestled against his hipbone, his fingers cool from liquidity guided between his butt cheeks, and while he circled his entrance gently, exerting the slightest pressure, it came Itachi to mind, that this might be a mistake, that albeit he thought his decision over thoroughly, he might regret it; what was he even thinking, when he thought, Orochimaru would be a good choice, how could he even think to trust a man like him, why was he—

Stop!

Orochimaru froze in his motions. Itachi felt the abrupt stop of teasing lips, lingering slightly above his skin, his fingers ossified in their touch. He pushed himself up his elbow to look down at him, meeting eyes, carefully considering him, asking and curious.

Itachi swallowed. And he felt guilty. Foolish. He had alleged Orochimaru’s words as hollow and empty, and he was astonished, that the snake summoner kept his word.

He could trust him. And the realisation rocked him bone deep.

The young Uchiha gathered his breath and nodded faintly, before he realised, that wasn’t enough to reassure his partner, and he spoke, barely breathed: “go on”.

Orochimaru loosened his gaze from Itachi, sank half his lids and moved his lips from his hip into his lap. His tongue brushed over the tip of his member, sending chills through Itachi’s whole body, who gasped in surprise, panted breathless as Orochimaru’s lips enclosed his rigid manhood. He felt his tongue winding around him in an impossibly way, made him shiver and moan loudly, dug his fingers in the sheets, reared up his back and pushed his head back more firmly, raven hair spreading across white linen.

Itachi caught his breath at the sensation at his entrance, the firm push against it, Orochimaru using his distraction to slide two of his fingers in his tightness. Itachi whimpered slightly, pain rising in his flesh, though bearable, not even as awkward as he had expected with Orochimaru sucking at his member with all the mastery he did mention before. Itachi wanted to jerk his hips, wanted to bring him deeper in his mouth, remembered his words and instructions earlier and forced himself to calmness and tried to adjust to the new sensation of Orochimaru’s fingers, wet and slick, stretching and preparing him.

Eventually, Orochimaru released Itachi’s hardness from his lips and forced him to concentrate on his fingers alone, rubbing gently at his inside and feeling for his sensitive areas. Then, Itachi cried out desperately and hoarsely, on the brick of his perception embarrassed with his lack of self-control, overpowered by the sudden sensation of bliss and waves of delightful pleasure.

“Do you feel this?”

Itachi panted and bucked his buttocks against Orochimaru’s teasing fingers.

“Was that a ‘yes’, sweetheart?”

“Yes!”

He could hear his dark, husky chuckle. “That’s the prostate. Like the G-spot in your female partners, you can use your knowledge about this delicate spot”, he reinforced the rubbing sensation of his fingertips softly, made Itachi whimper, “to pleasure your partner—or use it for your own. If you should find yourself in a situation you don’t enjoy and have to endure, try to go into a position, which allows you to stimulate that point. We will try a few to see, what you favour.”

He kept working him, adding a third finger, staying at the fine line between pleasure and discomfort, but it was fine now since Itachi could be sure, he was able to stop him should he want to. And hell, he didn’t.

(Briefly the thought occurred to him, that he would like to have Orochimaru as his instructor in ANBU but pushed that swiftly to the side.)

Orochimaru pulled his fingers out of his tightness and kneed between his legs. He grasped his hips and pulled him closer across the sheets, sending shivers of excitement along Itachi’s back. Firm fingers under his knees, Itachi lifted one leg and wrapped it around Orochimaru’s waist without hesitation, earning him an astonished glance from his lover, and Itachi smirked slyly. Orochimaru supported his other leg to lift Itachi’s lower back from the bed. He felt the thick head of his member brush between his cheeks, pushing against his entrance.

“Might sound ridiculous but—try to relax.”

He entered him, widening his tight opening so slowly. Itachi flinched, braced himself involuntarily and felt the disrupting pain even increasing. He breathed deeply and tried to relax, let his hips be guided by Orochimaru’s hands, felt him sliding deeper, supported by lubricant, felt his body slowly adjusting to the intrusion, hard, beating flesh against his inner walls. Orochimaru took his time to fulfil him entirely, searching his face for any signs of stress or greater pain than those to be expected. The younger man closed his eyes shut, breathed in sharply, his fingers trembling and clawing in the sheets.

“Shall I stop?”

“No. Go on.”

Orochimaru was glad to hear that, because he did a great and exhausting job in holding himself back. He looked down at the trembling Uchiha, who was gradually getting accustomed to the sensation of his manhood inside him. And he could only think about that tonight Uchiha Itachi was all hisss.

He withdrew cautiously and pushed himself back inside Itachi, provoking a moan from him, that didn’t sound so much that he was in pain but rather in need. He grinned widely and repeated the motion, slow but deep, let him feel the sensation in every inch of his sweet, delicate body, and Itachi enjoyed it, it felt good, the closeness, the feeling of being fulfilled, could feel every movement so close, breaking through his tightness and touching every spot of his inside.

Itachi whimpered as the first serious thrust rocked his body, but the initial pain vanished immediately under the luscious stimulation of that sweet spot Orochimaru had shown him just minutes ago.

Itachi moaned loudly under Orochimaru’s thrusts, he hold close to his waist supported by his own leg wrapped around him, felt the other’s hands holding on to him, giving him the security that he was allowed to let himself go, to fall deep and he would be caught.

Orochimaru moved out from him, leaving Itachi with an unknown sensation of emptiness; he opened his eyes, but saw in the expression of his lover nothing than the same lust he felt tingling under his skin, greed and hunger. Orochimaru let him down just to grab his hips and roll him over. Itachi grinned as he felt the cool sheets beneath him pressing softly against his hardness, cautious to not show his partner the delight he gave him by dominating him. Warm but demanding hands pulled him up to his knees, which Itachi spread wide enough for him and was rewarded with the lecherous feeling of being fulfilled again.

Orochimaru took him with hard, deep thrusts, and Itachi enjoyed it, the new position and the angle he was able to feel him inside of him, touching every inch of him, caressing parts of his body no one else ever had.

Quite suddenly Orochimaru’s thrusts stopped. Itachi could only feel his thumping cock inside of him, tight and deep, but no movement at all. Itachi looked back at him, saw raw lust in his eyes, wicked amusement and he thrusted into him, hard and deep and so lustful, and just one time.

Itachi groaned, in lust and disappointment and moved his hips against the others, pressed his backside against him. He moved the rigid shaft with clumsy thrusts inside of him, ashamed of his own need. He hadn’t thought someone ever would be able to dissect his meticulous composure, his restraint and tickle out of him so much want and craving. But beside his shame, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed it.

He felt a slap against his cheeks, and he heaved a loud groan, gasped as Orochimaru rewarded him finally with his own thrusts, hard and without mercy.

Itachi couldn’t hold himself up any longer, his arms yielded, he sank down in the linen, burring his face in the crook of his arm, while Orochimaru’s hand took care of him. His skin slapped against his own, again and again, Itachi felt the rising need for release, but he refused to touch himself. He wanted to know, if he was able to come by being taken alone, felt the pressure build up in his whole body, spreading warmth and burning waves ghosting through his flesh. Moaning, he pressed himself against Orochimaru, tried to feel him as deep as possible inside of him, and when he finally came, it was breath-taking, overwhelming as the air vanished out of his lungs, couldn’t stop the trembling of his whole body, he cried out, bit back the pathetic attempt to call Orochimaru’s name, and poured himself in the sheets underneath him.

It took Orochimaru not any longer, didn’t hold back as soon as Itachi released himself, buried himself deep inside of him, could feel the throbbing shaft deep inside and the hot sensation as Orochimaru spilled himself into him, with nothing more than a whispered moan.

Bastard, Itachi grumbled internally. He had to break this composure, somehow.

Orochimaru withdrew from him, allowed Itachi to collapse on the bed, breathing heavily. His body ached but still it felt good. He felt satisfied, empty, filled and longing. Too much emotions to order and handle with, he decided.

Anyhow, he was distracted from slender fingers, cupping and squeezing one of his cheeks, tearing soft, incoherent humming from his throat, soft lips whispering above his still trembling shoulders.

“I don’t think, I can again.”

Orochimaru laughed, not as mischievous as he was used to, but rather warm. “Don’t be silly. Of course you can, Itachi.” He took hold of his body and rolled him on his back, capturing his lips, which was exactly what Itachi wanted, withering in his kisses while enjoying the aftermath of his climax. Orochimaru broke the kiss to look down at him, still wanting, but now also with some more calmness. “After all, there are a few more positions we should try for you.”

He took the flask with lubricant again, added some to his fingers and dived them soft and gently in his claimed tightness. Itachi flinched slightly, but felt fast comfortable easing when his partner soothed the hot skin with the cool liquid.

Itachi bend his knees to allow him better access, while observing his face, the unreadable expression in these eyes. “Do you know all this from experience?”

“Of course.”, he raised his eyebrows, answering his gaze with some bemusement. “Did you think, you learn that from scrolls and books?” He brushed his fingertips across his prostate, let him shiver and moan softly. Orochimaru smirked. “Anything else you want to know about my private life?”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

They did it again. And then again. Itachi learned that his limits lay further away as he had thought. That he didn’t like to be on top, despite the control he had about angle and pace, because he felt too exposed. That he liked to be dominated, to give up responsibility for once and didn’t have to make decisions. And that he didn’t have the courage to admit it. He enjoyed whatever Orochimaru was doing with him. He loved positions in which he was able to relish the other’s kisses.

At the end he felt as exhausted as he would have after a mission lasting for days.

“You may use the shower, if you want.”

“No, thanks. I’ll shower at home.”

His knees felt weak, while Orochimaru showed him to the door.

Orochimaru unlocked the front door and opened it. The night air was pleasant cool outside. Itachi could hear the crickets clitter.

“You will feel uncomfortable and even sorer tomorrow morning.” Orochimaru looked at him tentatively. “I’ll make sure you get the day off.”

“There is really no need for it.”

“You say that now. Wait until tomorrow. Your operator is Hatake, right?”

Itachi nodded. He felt awkward and strange, that someone like Orochimaru cared for him. He felt the blush slowly rise into his cheeks, and because he didn’t know, how he should respond, he asked the next obvious question: “Will it always be this way?”

“No. Your body just needs a few times to adapt. It will get easier soon, and then you won’t feel any pain at all. Except when you want to.” He smirked at Itachi, who avoided his gaze whilst he turned to leave. “And should it ever occur to you, that you could use some more practice—you know where to find me.”

Itachi could hear the smirk on his lips without looking back. He stopped in his pace down the front stairs of the house. “Maybe.”

Orochimaru chuckled and closed the door. Itachi walked down the old gravelled lane, at a slow pace, not in a hurry. He breathed in the cool night air and only when the snake summoner’s house was lost in the darkness behind him, he allowed a content and satisfied smile to spread over his Features.

At the end it seemed that it hadn’t been one of his worst ideas at all.