Summary: A departure from my other JiraOro fic, less of a look into Orochimaru's mind and more of a glimpse of his physical interaction with Jiraiya. Rated M actual JiraOro action.
Note: Let's say Orochimaru and Jiraiya are around 17 years old for this fic.
Orochimaru walked into the study and sighed as he realized Jiraiya had recently taken over the area to continue his writing. The disarray of scattered paper and upturned ink vials on the desk could be no one else's doing. The white-haired teen always worked in the middle of a maelstrom of discarded paper.
The snake Sannin plucked what appeared to be Jiraiya's latest notebook from the cluttered desk. He wrinkled his nose at the splotches of ink across the paper, though the script itself was legible enough.
Orochimaru took his time analyzing the strokes themselves. Large, bouncing letters, unsure of whether they wanted to be resting above or below the lines of the paper. Scribbles decorated the margins, as if Jiraiya couldn't imagine how the letters would fit while picturing them in his mind.
After his initial survey Orochimaru noticed certain terms and saw Jiraiya was writing a smutty novel. He wasn't particularly surprised, what else could the pervert be creating? Never mind that he was still standing there reading the words with great interest.
He continued evaluating the paragraphs to look for flaws to prod (it was reasoning he gave himself for continuing his examination).
He heard footsteps traveling towards the room and, in his haste, hid the book behind his back as the door creaked opened. Orochimaru grimaced when he saw the figure entering the room.
It was Jiraiya carrying an armload of snacks, his fuel for further writing. "What are you doing in here? Wait, I shouldn't even bother to ask, you are definitely looking for some tomes that would put even its writer to sleep."
Orochimaru carefully maneuvered out of the way with his back to the wall as Jiraiya strode towards the desk and plunked down the food. The bags drift over the desk to mix in with the discarded papers. The snake Sannin hoped Jiraiya wouldn't realize his script was missing, a possibility with the other's usual carelessness.
Alas, even Jiraiya would identify the obvious. "That's weird, where's my notebook?" The toad Sannin swiveled around and raised an eyebrow at Orochimaru.
The dark-haired teen feigned innocence as he gazed at a row of books. "I have no idea what you are talking about. It is possible you left it in your room." He started backing away towards the door.
But Jiraiya was not so slow when it came to items significant to him. Peering over Orochimaru's shoulder, Jiraiya was always secretly pleased that he was taller, he asked, "So what are you hiding behind your back?" Jiraiya moved closer and made an attempt at grabbing the paler youth's arm.
Orochimaru backed up against a bookshelf and cursed himself for not simply dropping the book onto the desk earlier. He held onto it because part of him wanted to know how the story would progress, but he certainly was not going to tell Jiraiya that information. With the other so near, Orochimaru tried to appear causal as he slide the notebook out from behind him and handed it to Jiraiya. "This was on the floor so I retrieved it. I thought it was trash given the state of disorder it was in."
"Yeah, sure, I don't have to be a genius to know you knew what I was talking about. So…what did you think? Don't tell me you didn't read it, you wouldn't have been hiding it behind your back if you didn't." He was close enough to feel his teammate's discomfort no matter how skillfully Orochimaru masked his emotions. Jiraiya grinned at this, it was always a pleasure to see his teammate unhinged.
Now that he was caught Orochimaru saw no reason not to speak. So he fell back on finding fault in Jiraiya's writing as he did for everything else. "You descriptions could use some work although your set-up is interesting enough."
Jiraiya rolled his eyes, he could not picture his fellow Sannin writing any better. All Orochimaru ever appeared interested in were musty texts written by scholars from centuries ago. Jiraiya thought it was remarkable that the dark-haired teen had the curiosity to peruse his writing at all. Maybe some passion did lie within the snake, if only the taller youth could bring it out. "Are you offering to edit it? Or are offering to help me with figuring out what goes where, eh? I don't spend my time picking apart what is involved in a lay. It is all about the excitement of the moment."
Orochimaru knew the toad Sannin's 'research' mostly involved getting woman into bed at all. "You do not have enough experience to accurately portray what is occurring." An imperious scowl accompanied his words. Not that the snake Sannin had any sexual activities of his own to speak of, although he had been propositioned to numerous times, he never accepted.
"And you know how to do it right? I bet am at least a better kisser than you are." Jiraiya wanted to wipe away Orochimaru's smirk. There was no better way to do so than to prove the other word's untrue. Reaching forward, he tangled fingers in Orochimaru's glossy hair, pulling the dark-haired teen upward into a kiss.
The snake Sannin's eyes widened as he felt the other man's lip on his own. Taking it as the sign of a challenge Orochimaru pushed back and forced his tongue into Jiraiya's mouth. This continued with both of them trying to gain the advantage, tongues entwined, and the battle traveled from mouth to breathless mouth. Jiraiya thought it was fitting how the action reminded him of serpents coiling around each other. Their flavors mixed and the taste was an alluring blend of decaying decadence.
Their contact broke when Orochimaru felt Jiraiya release his hair, letting the hand move tentatively around to his back. Orochimaru had to have control in this situation, he was not going to let the other man do as he pleased, so firmly pushed their bodies apart.
Jiraiya eyed Orochimaru as he brushed his thumb across his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Damn, so that tongue of yours is good for something besides freaking out people."
"Now you will be able elaborate on your depiction of a kiss in your story." Orochimaru turned away and ran his fingers across the surface of the books. "Return to your novel while I locate volumes two and seven of The Customs and Concerns of Kumogakure for our upcoming mission." He moved away from Jiraiya as he pretended the volumes, not the lingering heat of Jiraiya's lips, occupied all his attention.
Orochimaru was steadying his breath when he felt Jiraiya's hand travel across his shoulder and flittered down his chest. He could feel Jiraiya's warm chest resting on his back. "Oh? How about assisting with the other 'depictions'?" Amusement colored Jiraiya's words.
"I said I have other important matters to deal with." He pulled Jiraiya's roaming hands away and returned his attention to the books.
"Nothing is more important than this." Jiraiya's hand returned, descending further. A sharp intake of breath greeted the white-hair man's action. The sensation was one Orochimaru was wholly unfamiliar with. Despite all of Orochimaru's undeniable attractiveness Jiraiya did have more experience in sexual activities. Orochimaru was always too particular to settle for anything attractive like Jiraiya would and often did.
Orochimaru unknowingly leaned back on Jiraiya as the pleasure overtook him. The snake become conscious of this soon enough and shifted to face Jiraiya, this time Orochimaru was the one to initiate the kiss. Instead of reaching up towards the slightly taller man Orochimaru pulled Jiraiya down to meet him at his level. Hungry lips met his own and as their mouths worked the white-haired youth drew Orochimaru closer.
Jiraiya reluctantly broke the kiss, letting his lips linger a touch longer as Orochimaru nipped at his lower lip. "You sure are fast at changing your opinion." Not that he was complaining as he slide a hand under the other's shirt and lifted it over the curve of pale shoulders. Entranced by the sight of so much skin Jiraiya ran his fingers down a white arm. If Jiraiya had to describe the pale skin he would have likened it to moon, cold and lacking in life, but still so enticing in its own unearthly way.
"This may prove to be an enjoyable pursuit if you are as skilled as you believe yourself to be." A demanding glare as Orochimaru nudged Jiraiya towards the desk, knocking the freshly acquired snacks and papers onto the floor.
After so many years around the other teen Jiraiya had learned to ignore such jibs. He scoffed at the way the snake Sannin could make even sex sound so clinical. Jiraiya quickly discarded his remaining clothes onto the floor and moved to undo the knot of Orochimaru's pants. But the other batted his hand away and removed the pants himself, he was not going to be undressed like a doll. Jiraiya would have preferred to disrobe Orochimaru. Removing each other's clothing was a romantic notion Jiraiya was fond of. But since they were both unclothed who was he to complain?
Orochimaru settled himself on top of Jiraiya, thighs touching the other's hips, feeling the heat of the taller youth's body warm his own. The toad Sannin always did have a higher body temperature. At times Orochimaru imagined Jiraiya's inner heat tanned the youth's skin to be so much more alive than his own. Orochimaru raked a hand through Jiraiya's hair and trailed it down a cheek, marveling at the contrast of their skin tones. He shook the thought to the side and rubbed his body on Jiraiya's, stealing what warmth he could.
Jiraiya leaned into the black screen of Orochimaru's hair. Reaching up with his right hand he swept aside a tendril of the silky darkness and ran his tongue across Orochimaru's shoulder up his collarbone, leaving a glistening path on the contours of the other's body. This earned Jiraiya a faint moan from the snake, barely audible, but there nonetheless. As rewarding as the barest sounds escaping from Orochimaru were, Jiraiya still possessed the desire to see the paler man's face.
Long dark locks of hair masked Orochimaru's features from Jiraiya, so the toad Sannin brushed the strands aside, tucking them behind the other's ear. Tossing his head to the side, Orochimaru loosed the strands and they resumed their previous position, shielding his expression from Jiraiya.
The excitement was building to a point where Jiraiya stopped caring about seeing Orochimaru's face. The white-hair teen glided a hand towards the desk and found the vial he was seeking. It was oil for the candles, but it would have to do. Flicking off the cap Jiraiya drenched his hands and length in the liquid.
Slipping his hand behind Orochimaru, Jiraiya felt the pale man tense. "Loosen up, it will be more enjoyable this way."
A relaxation of muscles, Orochimaru reproached himself for being concerned over the action. He had to believe Jiraiya knew what he was doing, or else he wouldn't have entered into this situation. It could not have been because the one he wanted was Jiraiya.
Jiraiya rubs his fingers against Orochimaru's passage and slowly immersed two digits into the pale youth. Orochimaru lets out a hiss as he arched his back from the unfamiliar yet impossibly pleasurable feeling. Jiraiya continues the motion, easing Orochimaru's body into accepting him. His other hand traces along smooth shape of the long-haired youth's back.
The snake shifted forward, nibbling on an earlobe. His teeth grazed the skin, as he worked his down to Jiraiya's neck. Jiraiya shuddered at the sensation as the paler teen bit through delicate skin, enough to draw the slightest bit of blood. Orochimaru lapped up the crimson liquid, savoring the sweet metallic flavor. His slithers his hand around Jiraiya, nails dig into the other's back, undoubtedly leaving raw red markings.
Orochimaru's eyes roamed everywhere but constantly stopped short of other's face. Jiraiya would not let that be, he wanted the dark-haired youth to look at him. Sliding his free hand up along Orochimaru's chest he gently turned the other's face towards him. Defiantly watching the snake's golden eyes, daring the other man to look away again. Jiraiya increased his pace and Orochimaru's eyes narrow from the sensation, his nails digging into Jiraiya's back, leaving long red lines.
At last Jiraiya sees the other youth is ready and guides himself into Orochimaru. The snake Sannin is prepared for the action, but his tenses and a low moan escapes. They begin grinding against each other but Orochimaru wanted to have some sense of being in charge of all that was occurring. He lays his hands on Jiraiya's hips, pinning him to the desk. The white-haired youth groans in protest, trying to move up into the other's body. Orochimaru starts moving atop Jiraiya at his own pace and it is much slower.
Jiraiya manages to whisper, "Go…faster."
Orochimaru finds the minor hitch in Jiraiya unspeakably appealing, but he ignores the request and continues the agonizing measured rhythm. Jiraiya retaliates by reaching forward and rubbing his hand teasingly on Orochimaru, who lets out a gasp and shivers as the contact. But he glimpses Jiraiya's smug grin at his sound. So Orochimaru removes his hands from Jiraiya's pelvis and instead grabs the other youth's hands, ramming them into the desk's surface. This position causes Orochimaru to bend over and their torsos met, the friction of skin-on-skin contact increasing arousal as the one on top increases his pace. The paler teen consumed the heat their bodies radiated from the exertion.
Through his veil of hair Orochimaru looks down at Jiraiya and thinks he looks stunning with his flushed skin. Waving the thought aside, Orochimaru instead focuses on how he is above Jiraiya, and it provides him some strange comfort. He crushes his lips against Jiraiya's once again, an insistence borne of his desire to show his power, if only to himself. Jiraiya returns the impassioned kiss, merely thinking the other was really getting into the action.
With the friction of their bodies it does not take long for them to climax in unison among their gasps and moans. For a moment afterwards, Orochimaru collapses on top of Jiraiya, who wraps his arms around the paler youth. The snake Sanin rests his chin in the crook of the other youth's neck. They are at peace, but all too quickly Orochimaru's reasoning returns.
Orochimaru's hand twitched and he resisted the urge to wrap his arm around the larger man. Instead, he did the opposite and rolls off the other teen. Jiraiya allowed it with his euphoria and lethargy after the strenuous activity. He ran a finger down Orochimaru's back as the snake Sannin sat up and evaluated the mess. The dark-haired man leaned out of Jiraiya's reach and snakes out to the other's discarded undershirt and started wiping away at the ink and essence of their exploits they had spilled across the desk.
"Hey! That's the only clean shirt I had left. Is that any way to treat your lover's belongings?" Jiraiya rarely did laundry, there were much more pleasurable pursuits out there.
Orochimaru froze and glanced at the other man from behind his curtain of hair. "This was merely a new experience, it does not change anything between us." As he spoke he willed himself to believe those very words.
At this Jiraiya bolted upright, griping the edge of the desk. "A new experience? How can you say that? Did you not feel anything?" Leaning in, he tried to get a clearer look at Orochimaru's face.
The snake Sannin continued, "It was my body's reaction to physical contact, completely natural, it does not mean I feel anything for you." His composure was back in place and he reminded himself nothing could become of this liaison.
Jiraiya was never good with spoken words, so he stretched out an arm and pulled Orochimaru roughly towards him into a kiss. He felt the other's warmth and his questing tongue was met with no resistance. But when Jiraiya pulled away he was met with Orochimaru's cold serpentine stare. There was nothing behind those windows as Orochimaru had long ago learned how to coat his emotions in nothingness when the situation called for it.
The dark-haired man pulled away from Jiraiya's grasp, the strands of his hair trailing through the other's fingers. The toad Sannin looks at the other teen beseechingly, needing Orochimaru to say the words he knew the other teen had to feel even if he displayed no such sentiment.
Instead he is greeted by Orochimaru's murmur of, "I cannot want you." Orochimaru had swiftly thrown on his clothes, leaving the room without delay. All that remained were the tousled papers and marks of their activities. There was no heat remaining as the white-haired youth stared at the door, willing the other to come back. He never returned and Jiraiya found himself scrubbing up the desk as he considered what to do next.
Jiraiya struck upon the idea of wooing Orochimaru formally. He never had much success with flirting and asking out other people before despite how well they worked for the people he wrote about. If reading his notebook could get a reaction from Orochimaru, why not try more things from his own written words. Jiraiya never thought about how such tactics worked in his writing because he was the one who wrote them.
The next day the snake Sannin was subjected to ghastly poetry, flowers (which sent him into a sneezing fit), and an awkward Jiraiya. After the flustered Orochimaru extracted himself partway through the kneeling Sannin's soliloquy he hastily made his way out of Konoha. The dark-haired youth could not have been more relieved about having secret bases no one knew about far from Konoha.
Weeks stretched on to months, eventually he ceased his courtship of Orochimaru. Jiraiya told himself it was better to have the man not ignore him, to return to what they once had. It was better than being avoided, even if he knew it really was not.
A shinobi was never supposed to linger unfulfilled for long, because they never knew when they could be the next casualty in a mission. He was practical enough to know this and really, he missed Orochimaru without all the avoidance, from seeing his sarcastic smirk to a careless smile. And so Jiraiya sought company in the arms of women. They were the familiar place he knew to seek comfort from.
Soon Orochimaru did return to his pattern of sarcasm and criticism Jiraiya knew so well. The white-haired man was so relieved that he did not perceive the taunts were harsher and the accompanying voice was even colder.
The snake Sannin had noticed Jiraiya's dalliances with woman. Orochimaru pretended he only took special notice because it confirmed the uselessness of emotions. He wanted no part of such an impermanent thing. Jiraiya gave up on him so easily, what chance was there that they would last, not that Orochimaru ever considered them being together. No, never that. What benefit could wanting another person possibly have if feelings could so easily be converted? Something everlasting was his desire, emotions were simply something to drown in, and Orochimaru would not tolerate it when he knew he was destined for greatness.
Yet Orochimaru kept a single flower from the bouquet Jiraiya accosted him with on that day so long ago. The petals were dried and pressed between the leaves of a book, and every once in awhile he tells himself he keeps it as a reminder of the way everything faded. No matter the beauty, no matter the significance, they all disappear as he continued his life.
Sometimes on soundless nights both would find themselves staring into the darkness and thinking of the night they were so near yet so far from each other.
End Note: First fic where I progressed past a kiss. I am beyond embarrassed, there should be a new word for how utterly wrong I feel, writing such intimate things make me blush furiously. Also, I'm pretty sure I made sex boring. I rock. Too much time on describing things that aren't the act of sex itself and SO much agony over having to give names to sexual organs at all, I think I only referred to those intimate parts once, and only as 'length', wtf? I have no issues with saying things like 'penis' in this end note or anywhere else, but I absolutely cannot write it in fiction. I do not know why, my brain is stupid. Definitely never doing it again, too much nervous pacing around the room involved while writing this.
I wanted to illustrate how Orochimaru wanted to be dominant despite not having the experience, wonder if I showed that properly. The emotions of this piece are everywhere with the odd humor and ending on such a downbeat; I need to polish up my writing style. I can't write things where I have to picture what goes where and describing it in an interesting way is quite beyond my abilities. I'm much more suited to rummaging around inside a character's head. Also, I jump around too much while I'm writing. I actually started at the end, wrote the beginning, and then filled in the middle. And who the heck is going to read this end note, it is much too long. :P