Boogie Man

Hida/Kaku AU for Hidan's (belated) birthday.

A/N: Cute little – vulgar little – HIDAN. I think it's his 23rd birthday this year, but I'm really not sure; correct me if I'm wrong. I actually wrote a different one in one of my notebooks, but that one's 30 pages long and it's an Mpreg, so I'll just randomly spew stuff until I come up with another good story. XD

Disclaimer: I do not own neither of Kakuzu or Hidan. (But I really wish I did… I'd totally be the idol of ALL THE FANGIRLS HAHAHA –needs a machine gun-)







"Please, shut that thing up…" I thought mindlessly to myself, glancing up for a moment to see the man in the very untidy suit pants – grimy with dirt and something that look like rat blood, we were in the sewers, anyway – and ripped pinstriped button up shirt, which had no buttons anymore, being ripped away at what seemed like near his shoulders.

"What? Have a problem?" he tapped the pencil a little more rapidly on the floor, staring up at me with his vibrant purple eyes. He had a journal in his lap, ankles crossed. It looked like he was either writing a story or lyrics. Either way, it was too dark to see what the words were.

I glanced back to the floor, closing my eyes a minute later, answering his question with the most bitterness I could muster up, "…No, just tired." Not much of the witty comments that I usually gave him, but it was the truth. I'd been stuck there for what seemed like an eternity, though I know already from the light changes from a very dark grey to pitch black, that it had only been about three days.

"Mm…" he got up, I could hear, and he stepped, somewhere closer to me, "Would you like something to eat?"

"Not if you're going to give me that shit you gave me last time." My chains rattled loudly, echoing through the tunnels. They were attached to my wrists, which were then tethered to the floor. I'd tried so many times to get myself free.

"Don't be a sour-puss, man. Seriously, if you're going to be like that I might just force you to eat the food that I give you… And no, I actually got burgers from Mc-fucking-Donald's." I heard paper crinkling, and then I smelled it – even though I hated McDonald's food with all my being, a burger would be nice, considering the last meal he give me really did taste like shit. My mouth watered, but I turned my head away when he offered me one. That crap would make me turn belly up like a dead fish in water; my cholesterol was already sky-rocketing.

I could hear the frown on his lips when he spoke, "C'mon, man, it's not like its poisoned or anything. At least a French fry at the most." He held the small carton up to me.

I opened my eyes and glared at him, "Why are you trying to keep me living if you stole me from my work place just to rape me?"

"'Cause I was in the mood and didn't have the money for a whore. But it's not like you're much of a help anyway. But thanks for the cash, I needed that… They were going to come and whoop my ass if I didn't give them the money!" he laughed nervously, "…The gambl'r guys." He took a bite out of his burger.

The only thing that stood out about him was his eyes, his slicked back silver hair and his bright teeth. I'll tell you the story of how he got me down here in the first place.

I was walking back from work that day; I'm a surgeon, if you didn't know. Kakuzu Hoku, the famous surgeon. Not the greatest title, but I am pretty well-known. I was walking home, and I decided to go the long way. I headed down an alley way, and found myself to get bound and gagged by some of this… Boogie Man's creeps. They brought me to one spot, which happened to be about a few blocks from my own house. If I knew my poor child was playing out in the yard with these guys around I would never let her out. I bet my wife was worried sick, seeing that I was gone from the hospital (she called me when I was out for more that two days) and wasn't coming home.

He had then knocked me out and next thing I knew, I was down here, the man stripping me of my shirt, it now hanging loosely from my shoulders and started to lick my chest.

I can't say that it didn't feel good, but I would've rather had my wife do it to me. He then did me. Fuck. I hated that feeling. I had my intuition tell me he was going to do it that night. I can't say… well, I can, but I know from some resident years and those stupid "Improve your sex life" things in the magazines that I had to remove more that a few strange things from people's rectums, men more than often, that it was the most uncomfortable experience that you could fathom that wasn't deadly.

My sexuality, that hadn't changed ever since highschool, was bi, yes, but that didn't mean that I wasn't faithful to my wife with other women and men. My wife – I swear… I should stop bragging about her. Beautiful woman, that's all I have to say.

Boogie looked at me, "…What're you thinking about?" he asked, clipping my chin with his fingers. I growled. I hadn't shaved in a few days, so the normal shadow of a beard was starting to show, and it felt weird not having another's skin rub against my own, it was almost as if a barrier was growing.

"My wife, my daughter… my job," I growled a little harsher. My job, which earned my money to keep the other two reasons, a nice house and a summer cabin up in Maine… That job was my life. If I didn't have it, we would loose everything.

He smirked at me, "I'll return you… Don't worry; I'll just… leave you here for now." He got up, the bag of McDonalds food still sitting next to me, the slumped greasy bag looking even more disgusting in the grey.

I chuckled, "If you really feel the need," I leaned back onto the wall, tilting my head to one side.

He looked like he shivered for a moment, then turned on his heel and walked away, down the sewer pipes, leaving me in the rain water and with the rats.


I ended up eating the food given to me, which I protested greatly, holding out until pure hunger took over a few hours later. Boogie returned, carrying a few bags on his arm.

"Oh, this is the night,

It's a beautiful night,

And we call it Bella Notte…"

His rich voice had carried through the pipes, making it echo in a soothing way, waking me from my light nap, "Hmm?" I hummed drowsily, "What time is it?" I raised my hand to rub my eye, the clattering of chains reminding me of where I was.

There was silence for a moment, then splashes of steps, "Not very late, only around nine-ish…" he sighed.

"…What's wrong?" I asked, out of common curiosity, not as if I cared about a guy who stole me and chained me up in a sewer.

"Hmm, nothing really. I actually won tonight!" he said a little bit more happily, "About… $10,000, if I'm correct."

"That means you can afford some actual good of food… Right?"

"Meh, I still have people to pay…" Boogie shrugged, "I hardly think I would get 'good' food just for you…I think I enjoy fast food better, anyway."

I gave an annoyed sigh, and he looked my way, a subtle growl on his face, "Get over it, it's not that bad…"

"Tastes that way."

"Why are you complaining about the food when you have so much more to complain for?"

"Because you seem to like conversation… and food is on my mind at the moment."

"Don't be a wise crack; seriously, it's starting to get annoying."

"Holding your tongue? You usually just swear your head off…"

"It's a bet. See this?" he held up a small recorder, "It's got enough memory to last 3 days, which then I can go back to Jen and tell 'er than I won!" he yelled into the microphone, making a face telling it to bugger off, if it could.

"Hm, how much?"


"How much are you going to win?"

"Depends. If I sing more often, $1,000, other than that, $900. If I curse, then I have to pay her $700." He shrugged, "So don't make me."

"What if you're 'in the mood' again? You seemed to swear a lot when you were last time."

Boogie smirked, "Thanks for reminding me," he started to walk my way, it seeming so slow, as if he had something sharp and was going to kill me.

Oh shit, what have I done?

"But… won't she listen to this later?" I said, shifting a little in my nervousness.

"She can listen to it, see if I care," he knelt down next to me, reaching up and holding my neck, pushing me violently against the wall, and then running his fingers lightly around the corners of my mouth. I turned my head away, grunting a little in his presence, pulling my forearms up to my lap.

"I wasn't talking about 'in the mood' now, you idiot…" I growled, glaring at him.

"Oh, neither was I. I wasn't even thinking of doing it with you," he smiled this time, "How about your wife? How pretty is she? Not as pretty as you, I'm guessing…" he tapped my cheek lightly, "…You'll have to shave soon, huh?"

I grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer, lifting my other hand to grab the microphone on his jacket collar, holding it in my palm and growling, "You are not going to go for my wife. She'll butcher you."

"Oh, some feelings? Finally, I thought you didn't have any towards me..." he smiled, lifting his chin and running his nose on my forehead lovingly, "You know, you look crueler when you don't shave…"

"She'll…" I gritted my teeth, then pushed him away, hoping he'd hit his head on something, "Don't go near them. I don't care about you, but if she over-reacts like she usually does she'll… shoot before asking questions. You know what I'm saying?" I snapped at him, "Then I'm left down here to starve."

Boogie laughed, "Oh, my friend, that's good…" he purred, getting on all fours and crawling nearer to me. I lifted my foot, ready to kick him away, but he pushed my ankle aside gently, "You and I both know I'll be just fine…"

This time I pulled him closer and kept him there, holding his head in between my chest and forearm, "You're not going to go to my house with my kid and my wife… and just going to do her in front of my girl. Hear me?" I squeezed his head little harder, making him groan.

"…Yeah, yeah, yeah… I get it," he seemed too comfortable for his position. Then I heard a small tear and felt a finger intruding on my personal space, penetrating me.

I groaned, sinking a little closer, crushing his head a little more with more force.

"Stop that," I growled in a whisper, closing my eyes and feeling him hold something sharp closer than I wanted to my abdomen.

"Mm, I think you like it," he added another finger, this time being a little rougher about it.

I had to bite my tongue to halt myself from moaning, "Quite the… contrary. Now stop before I kill you."

"Like you could pull it off," he started to slash ruthlessly at my stomach in turn with pushing and pulling his fingers, raking his nails along at times, inside me, making this more painful that it should've been.

This time, I groaned, very loudly, it coming back in and echo and showing how weak I really sounded.

"If you give me some audio I might just let you come along with me for my next trip… hmm?" he jammed his fingers hurtfully into me, making me lower one hand and claw at the ground, grinding my teeth together, groaning again, my other hand sliding to the back of his head and holding him against my chest.

My breath caught when all of a sudden the knife that was cutting my stomach started cutting where his fingers were, around it and down. Oh, this hurt so much. I wanted to punch and kick, but I know that would only make it worse.

"Oh – God, please stop…" I pleaded, his small punctures making me a little light-headed.

"Nuh-uh," he violently started to bite at my stomach, some of the blood smearing onto his cheeks, lips and chin, granting him the look of being a cannibal – to me anyway.

I started to push him away, only to be forcefully stabbed down there. I whimpered automatically, pushing him away again. My breathing caught up, and he stared at me.

"So, you really don't like it, huh?" he said, tilting his head to one side.

I only glared in return, putting my hand on my stomach, it stinging and wishing that it would go away.

"…I'll be gentler, if you want me to be," he threw the knife over to where his bags rested in the dry corner.

"I…" I could've answered 'I don't want you to touch me'… but there was something about him that part of me wanted him to do it to me, "Yeah…" I closed my eyes and I could already see the expression on his face: that devil-like grin that I just wanted to slap off his god-forsaken face.

His hands trailed my stomach soothingly when he got nearer, straddling my legs so he could slip in between them. My hands quickly glided to the sides of his face and pulled him up, roughly kissing him and waiting for…


I woke with a start, sitting up when I realized where I was – in my bed, my wife lying next to me, deep in slumber.

I looked around, my eyes wide and, surprisingly, I was genuinely scared.

I saw the clock, it saying that it was 3:45 AM in its large, red letters; I got out of bed in a swift motion, heading out of our room and heading down the hall, towards the stairs.

That was so real feeling, how in God's name could it be fake? A dream? I quickly clambered down the stairs, clutching my stomach. It felt like I was going to puke. Those cuts…

I remembered him so clearly, but from where? I hadn't gone out in more than a few days… It was my vacation, though I really didn't need it, and I hadn't met anyone like him, or seen anyone like him for what seemed like forever. In highschool I was into gambling for a while, but nothing as serious as that. Why was he in my dreams?

…Did I just make him up?

"Honey?" My wife, Hinata, called blandly, following me.

I looked back, "…Go back to bed, I'm fine."

"Kuzu, why're you up?" I rolled my eyes and then turned towards her.

"Hina, please, I'm just…"

"You look scared…" she said, her pale purple eyes gleaming in the soft moonlight, coming from an upper window.

"It was a bad dream, please just –"

"A nightmare? Kakuzu," she walked over towards me again, pulling me into an embrace, "A-Are you okay?"

"…Yes, Hinata, I'm just fine," I said, pulling my fingers though her silky, violet looking hair, not even mussed by sleep.

"Do you… want to talk about it?" she looked up at me with a blink, making me sigh.

"No, I'll be fine without it. Now head back to bed, I'll be there soon enough…" I smirked kindly, running a thumb over her pale cheek.

"…Alright." She was almost a push-over, which was what one of the many things I liked about her. She headed back to bed without another word, but glancing back at me before closing the door again.

I made the rest of my way down the stairs and looked silently though cupboards for sleeping medicine. I knew I had some; I had… finished off the bottle a few days ago.


I sighed; closing the cupboard I was looking in with disappointment, turning and sitting on the counter, leaning my head on my palms, and my elbows on my knees.

Tonight would be rough, without sleep.

What would the interns say? A sleepy resident just doesn't cut it. I always had a surgery somewhere in the morning and somewhere in the afternoon, quick ones, and I think I had a big one coming up tomorrow. Yeah, I had a heart transplant…

"Shit…" I leaned back up and rested the back of my head on the wood behind me.






To Be Continuted.