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The Word of Your Enemy

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“If you don’t fucking hurry it up, I’m going to change my mind, and you’ll be first.”

Cold sweat runs down Orochimaru’s spine as he glances at Jiraiya’s barely conscious face again, noting the pinprick size of his pupils even with the brightness of the room that they’re in and the blood that still oozes sluggishly from a wound hidden beneath his hair. “Please, just one more minute,” Orochimaru begs as he tugs frantically at his still limp dick, which is beginning to protest his rough treatment.

“You’ve got thirty seconds to get your dick in his ass, or I’ll be using mine instead,” one of the Iwa-nin threatens.

In desperation, Orochimaru pulls his lube slicked fingers out of Jiraiya’s ass and quickly slides them into his own, ignoring the burn, searching for his prostate and thanking the gods when his cock finally starts to thicken as he curls them and stimulates the spot.

One of the men whistles. “Well, well, will you look at that. Seems like we got a real bottom boy here, men. Guess that explains the little cocklet you got there. Bet you ain’t ever fucked anyone before. Seems like we’re doing you a favor, boy.”

Orochimaru’s face burns, but he bites his tongue, not rising for the bait. If he plans it right, he could escape, probably, maybe, but he’s not leaving Jiraiya behind; that’s something Orochimaru refuses to consider, especially injured as Jiraiya is.

A hand yanks cruelly at Orochimaru’s hair, snapping his head back painfully, and Orochimaru bares his teeth at the man.

“Oh, so you’ve still got some fire in you. Too bad we were a little rough on your friend here. Am sure you’d look real pretty bouncing on his cock.”

“Tick tock, little boy,” the first man says.

Already feeling his erection beginning to flag, Orochimaru wastes no time, and hating himself, he pushes Jiraiya’s legs apart and out, lines himself up, and tries to gently ease himself into Jiraiya.

One of them men shoves Orochimaru forward, forcing him all the way into Jiraiya and sending Orochimaru sprawling on top of him, drawing a moan from both of them.

Of course it’s that moment that Jiraiya’s eyes try to focus on Orochimaru, a frown of bewilderment twisting his face as he asks, “Orochimaru, what are you—”

“Close your eyes,” Orochimaru whispers.

Jiraiya blinks at him in confusion for a moment, but finally his eyes falls shut.

The blind trust breaks something in Orochimaru. Forgive me, Orochimaru begs silently as he pushes himself up, closing his eyes as well in an attempt to block out the world, certain that if he can just feel, he can get through this. Hesitantly he pulls his hips back before thrusting back in, his movements faltering when Jiraiya’s fingers wrap lightly around each of Orochimaru’s wrists where they rest beside his shoulders.

Orochimaru feels no shame pulling on his fantasies to fuel him, the snug, wet heat of Jiraiya’s body better than anything Orochimaru has ever imagined. Because he has imagined this. Many times.

A smack to his ass snaps Orochimaru’s eyes open and draws a hiss from him.

“Fuck him like you mean it, brat. Put on a good enough show, and maybe we won’t fuck him next.”

“You said—” Orochimaru bites his tongue, knowing that he’s not in a position to argue, and the Iwa-nin grins.

Orochimaru let his body take control, his hips driving his cock into Jiraiya’s clutching body again and again, the smack of their bodies hitting together with each thrust echoing in the room. Letting his head drop, Orochimaru’s hair falls forward, the black curtain of it separating them from the lewd remarks of the men around them.

“It would be a pity to let them go.”

“We don’t normally get our hands on one so pretty. The other one’s not half bad either if a little beat up.”

“That ain’t ever stopped you before.”

A laugh. “You got me there.”

“Look on at the ass on that one though. You can’t tell me you don’t want to stick it to him?

Orochimaru tries to block out the voice, eyes locking on Jiraiya’s face, the way his teeth tug at his lip each time his body is jarred by the force of Orochimaru’s thrusts.

A cry is torn from Orochimaru’s throat as his hair is yanked again.

“You aren’t trying very hard are you? Kiss him, work his tits, fist his dick, make him come, show him how much you care, or we’ll show him for you.”

Orochimaru wants nothing more than to strike out at the man, but he fights down the urge.

When the man lets his hair go, Orochimaru looks at Jiraiya’s slitted eyes before pressing a kiss to his slack mouth. When Jiraiya opens for him, Orochimaru groans at the taste of him. Hips never stilling, one hand falls to pinch his nipple, the other wrapping around his half hard cock.

Minutes later, Jiraiya is squirming beneath him, actively rolling his hips up to meet Orochimaru’s thrusts. When Orochimaru drops his head to suck at one of Jiraiya’s nipples, teeth closing against the nub, Jiraiya spills surprisingly quickly over Orochimaru’s hand. The increased tightness of Jiraiya’s body pulls Orochimaru over the edge as well, and trembling, he braces himself on his arms to prevent himself from collapsing on Jiraiya.

Suddenly finding himself yanked up and back, Orochimaru struggles. “What are you doing?” His blood goes cold as he watches the men advance on Jiraiya, hands pulling out thick cocks. “Stop! Don’t touch him! You promised!” Orochimaru shouts as he struggles against the hold of two men.

The leader steps in front of Orochimaru, hiding Jiraiya from his view but not blocking out his pained grunt as Orochimaru is certain someone has just thrust into him.

Fingers close tightly on Orochimaru’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet. “This is war, kid. Never trust the word of your enemy.”

“I’ll kill you,” Orochimaru snarls.

The man smiles, his teeth sharp. “I look forward to it.”

“Thanks for loosening him up for us.

“Damn, this is great. It’s been too long.”

“Hurry up. We all want a turn.”

Orochimaru doesn’t struggle when a cock is pressed into his unprepared body, welcoming the pain, using it to strengthen his hatred. He doesn’t let himself look away from Jiraiya’s rape, memorizing the faces of each man who touches him. Someday they’ll regret it, Orochimaru will ensure that.

Three nights later when the Iwa-nin are fucked out and passed out, Orochimaru shreds the skin of his wrists and dislocates his thumbs and one shoulder as he manages to slip out of the ropes binding him. Jiraiya doesn’t wake when Orochimaru hauls him onto his back. It’s a five day run back to the Konoha; it takes Orochimaru twelve, and he refuses to let Jiraiya out of his sight until they sedate him.


Ten years later, Orochimaru has the leader of the Iwa-nins who had raped them on his knees before him, but he feels nothing.

“Well, well, well, looks who’s all grown up. How about we make a deal. I promise to disappear, and you pretend you never saw me. How’s that sound?”

“Okay,” Orochimaru agrees readily with a smile, remembering well the lesson this man taught him so long ago.

His eyes go wide. “Re—”

Orochimaru slits his throat, spurts of blood splattering him, and the man gurgles as he collapses to the ground

Jiraiya stands on his side, not blinking at the sight of Orochimaru’s blood coated form. “Do you feel better now?”

Orochimaru doesn’t say, no, they’d all died far too easily, they deserved far worse than they got. Instead he pulls Jiraiya to him and presses a long, deep kiss against his mouth. “Now I do.” When Orochimaru pulls away, they’re both out of breath and smiling. “Take me home?”

Jiraiya’s smile widens. “With pleasure.”