Okay. So firefly and I were chatting away on MSN, and we got on the subject of Hidan and Kakuzu as a pairing. This story is pretty much my response to it. (If Hidan's characterization comes off as being butchered, I've done my job correctly. 8D)

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: THIS IS A SUBMISSIVE!!!UKE-FREE ZONE.


The Ballad of Hidan and Kakuzu--A Love Story
One day (more like mid-morning, actually), Hidan realized he had the hots for Kakuzu. He was in the shower when he made this discovery, and he never bathed in water less than scalding, so that might have had a lot to do with it, but whatever. Fact was he wanted to sleep with Kakuzu. In the biblical sense. Even though Jashin-sama would retract every last one of the brownie points he'd earned for being a good disciple and he'd have to start over from scratch.

Bah. What did God know about true love, anyway? Not that Hidan loved Kakuzu. Wanting and loving two completely different things.

Let's try that again.

Bah. What did God know about sodomy, anyway? Not that Hidan particularly cared to know what God knew about sodomy.

Oh, fuck it.

Hidan was horny, and Kakuzu was conveniently nearby. That's all he had going in his favor. Kakuzu was uglier than a hairless cat. Uglier, even, than Hidan's great-aunt Mildred (his father's side of the family), who had a wart on her chin and a mustache and talked with a lisp. Dude was fucking ugly. But accessible. And…okay, maybe his stitches were kind of cute.

The hell?

Not cute. Definitely not cute.

Rugged?

Hidan finished his shower—at the record time of forty-six minutes and nine seconds (he was in a hurry, remember) and dried himself off, taking another thirty-four minutes to comb his hair (not that much of a hurry, though). Once he felt satisfied—as in, once he'd examined his hair from every angle—he wrapped his towel around his waist and flung open the bathroom door.

"Oy, assface."

Kakuzu, sitting cross-legged on his bed, had a piece of string stretched between his hands, and didn't bother to acknowledge his partner. It looked like he was playing one-man Cat's Cradle, or something (meaning, it looked dumb).

Must still be in a snit because Hidan beat him to the shower. Well screw him. He knew Hidan took long showers, and if it was that important, he could've used someone else's shower.

"Let's fuck."

That got his attention. Prissy bitch.

Slowly, Kakuzu raised his eyes from the string.

"Are you retarded?"

Hidan stared at him.

"What?"

Kakuzu's lip curled. "Probably stabbed yourself in the brain during your last ritual." He focused on his piece of string again. "I'll have to petition the Leader to chuck you out and give me a new partner."

Like hell that'd happen. Kakuzu killed his other partners, and Hidan's immortality was a safeguard against repeat performances. Hidan knew that.

So did Kakuzu.

"Fuck you."

"I thought you wanted to."

Hidan started to say something really snippy, the kind of thing a girl would say in the middle of a catfight, but he caught himself and changed tactics. He hadn't stopped being horny, even if Kakuzu was as ugly as sin and his personality sucked.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's right, bastard. I do want to. And you can't say no to this." He loosened the towel and let it pool on the floor by his feet. Kakuzu should consider the view a favor, since he wasn't likely to see another person naked—let alone a person as beautifully sculpted as Hidan—in his lifetime…unless he paid for a hooker. "I dare you to say no."

Kakuzu, the stupid heathen, continued playing with his string as if Hidan hadn't spoken. Worse yet, the bastard yawned on top of it. "I assume you wasted all the hot water."

Hidan's jaw fell open.

No way. No fucking way.

He threw his head back and laughed.

"Holy shit…you're unbelievable," he said, and wiped his streaming eyes. "Seriously, dude. I'm standing here, stark ass naked, and I said I want to fuck you, and you're concerned about hot water." His laughter sounded a lot more like hysterical giggling now. Among a litany of foul language, he repeated "holy shit" and "unbelievable" enough times to start grating on Kakuzu's nerves.

Akatsuki's resident tailor extraordinaire, after racking up plenty of experience in dealing with his current partner, had learned that the religious man often found one or two choice words or phrases and treated them in a fashion similar to a mantra whenever he grew agitated or excited—his vocabulary was otherwise quite…rich. Personal opinions of his colleague aside, Kakuzu had to admit the guy could be clever—even witty—when he was on the ball (and when he was off of it, though getting Kakuzu to admit that would require force).

Hidan annoyed the crap out of him, regardless, though he was exceptionally annoying presently.

And exceptionally naked.

The way Hidan carried on, he seemed under the impression that Kakuzu hadn't seen him naked prior to this, and that the sight ought to have blown his pants straight off.

Kakuzu's pants were still whole, and still on.

He'd seen Hidan naked before. If the idiot took a moment to think, he'd recall the number of times he'd emerged from the bathroom in the buff, or shucked his clothes to throw on pajamas while Kakuzu was in the room.

Willfully providing Kakuzu with the opportunity to look—and to touch—was a new development, however.

Kakuzu knew he wasn't the most attractive person on the planet. His abnormally long lifespan (acquired through implanted hearts and alterations to his body that he'd made himself) combined with his choice of profession caused his physical appearance to suffer, though his libido was spared any hardship.

And it was quite an active libido, at that.

He enjoyed sex.

With women.

Granted, Hidan had a pretty face, and pretty skin, and pretty hair. His nails were perfectly manicured. He wore his Akatsuki cloak as if he were modeling Vera Wang dresses during Fashion Week.

Except he had a cock and no tits.

Pity.

Kakuzu liked sex a lot.

He hadn't had any for almost a week. That's a week closer to celibacy.

Celibacy scared him shitless.

He unraveled the complex pattern he'd been weaving while he waited for Hidan to finish hogging the shower and put the string on his nightstand. Then he crooked his finger at his partner.

"Shut up and come here."

Perhaps closing his eyes would make it easier to pretend Hidan was a chick with a flat chest. All he'd have to do was avoid groping lower than the bellybutton (while maintaining a bit of distance between them for obvious reasons).

He'd be on top, of course.

Hidan quit giggling, which halted the endless stream of commentary.

Some of it, anyhow.

"I knew you couldn't say no to this, seriously."

Whatever.

"Get your ass over here, fairy boy."

Hidan bristled.

"Fairy boy? You have the nerve to say that to me, when you spend your free time sewing? Do you know how fucking queer that is? At least 70 queer, dude."

The gauntlet had been thrown.

Kakuzu stood up.

"Who primps for three hours a day, princess?" He fired back. "We should just call you Hillary and be done with it."

The room was blissfully silent.

For a millionth of a second.

"Fuck you, you ugly sonofabitch! You're so ugly your mother turned you upside-down when you were born and passed your ass off as your face—"

Kakuzu only kissed him to shut him up. He wasn't expecting Hidan to yank on his hair, and he really wasn't expecting Hidan to open his mouth.

Guys kissed differently than girls. They were…rougher. But Hidan had soft lips. So he could've been a girl.

At some point between the initial kiss and subsequent kisses, they slammed against the bed and fell into it. They broke apart.

Hidan had landed on top.

"My, my, my, somebody's gonna hurt tomorrow," he said, and smirked.

Kakuzu didn't think. He punched Hidan on the shoulder.

"I'm topping," he growled.

Hidan's expression was flinty. He hadn't let go of Kakuzu's hair yet, so he yanked on it again. Kakuzu's scalp throbbed.

"Hell no. I am."

Kakuzu punched the opposite shoulder.

"You're not putting your cock up my ass."

Hidan boxed Kakuzu's ear with his free hand.

"So you want me to be the bitch?"

Kakuzu jabbed Hidan's side.

"You're used to it, retard. You impale yourself all the time."

Hidan socked Kakuzu's eye.

"That's not the same thing, and you know it isn't! Fucking pagan—"

Things went downhill from there. When the fight ended—that is, when neither Hidan nor Kakuzu had the energy left to hit one another—Hidan had a bloody nose, a puffy lip, two sore shoulders, a broken rib, and sprained ankle. Kakuzu had a black eye (well…blacker than normal), a boxed ear, several bald patches where Hidan ripped hair out, a missing right forearm, and plenty of torn stitches, not to mention the minor cuts and bruises littering the both of them.

"Great idea," Kakuzu muttered as he studied the ceiling with the eye that wasn't swollen shut. He and Hidan were side by side on their backs. "Absolutely fabulous."

Somehow, Hidan mustered the strength to lift his arm and slap his hand across Kakuzu's face.

"Shut up," he croaked.

Though it was painful, Kakuzu shifted his legs around and kicked Hidan off the bed. He'd stick to women. Real women.

"You shut up, Hillary."