"Do this often, altar boy?" Kakuzu watched the rhythmic bobbing of the silver mop of hair a little way in front of him, all the while trying to hold in a series of satisfactory gasps that threatened to disclose his 'appreciation' of the job being carried out. No, he didn't want the preacher to know he was doing a good job down there. A darned good job, really. Honestly, where did the man learn to do this? It brought him back to his original suspicions: was Hidan a priest at all?

At the end of Kakuzu's presumptuous 'inquiry', however, Hidan let go with a wet pop and glared up at the big man. "Don't call me that, asshole," he seethed, panting ever so softly through swollen lips.

An arch of one perfectly black eyebrow and a smirk later, Kakuzu locked eyes with the priest he had kneeling before him (oh, the irony!) and held his gaze for a good long moment. One big strong hand raised itself slowly, its path determined, until it was in line with the other man's jaw and paused another moment before finally letting fingers caress the pale skin stretched over those beautiful features. Kakuzu unconsciously tilted his head just a fraction of a degree, meditating upon the sight before him. Huh. The man's face was so pretty he wanted to smash it into something.

Hidan didn't move. He didn't even breathe. His eyes too were locked on the inmate's piercing green ones. Bastard.

Kakuzu's fingers traced light lines up and down the younger man's chin.

Violet eyes narrowed and silver eyebrows dipped into an almost perfect V. The grip of his fingers that curled around Kakuzu's length tightened, threatening. "The fuck are you doing?"

The man's voice successfully brought Kakuzu back from his reverie and he smirked wider. In the shadows of the cell, his expression was eerie. The fingers didn't stop playing with the other man's skin. Instead, they began to reach further back, threading themselves in the soft silver hair. Again, too soft and lustrous for a priest. "I confess, father," he drawled. "Patience is not one of my virtues." He hadn't asked Hidan to stop. So why had he? If Hidan had come here thinking he was to be treated with irespect/i, then he had another thing coming.

At the mention of the word 'father', Hidan literally spat. "Tch! Fuck off!" His free hand went immediately to grab Kakuzu's by the wrist in an attempt to yank it away from his hair. "I'm not a fucking Catholic!" Nails dug into dark skin.

The inmate didn't budge. The only inclination that his demeanor had changed was the fact that the smirk he originally wore had faded into something more menacing – something in between a grin and a snarl. Hidan felt the grip of Kakuzu's fingers in his hair tighten, and before he could spew out another word, felt a sudden sharp stinging pain biting into his neck. His fingers reflexively slid down to the restraint.

"I beg your pardon, preacher," the big man snarled, tugging Hidan's head back.

The Jashinist gasped, blindly reached for the restraints with both hands now as he desperately tried to get whatever it was away from his neck. What the fuck was that anyway? He hadn't seen him reach for any rope. "So you're into this kind of kinky shit old man," he rasped, still fighting.

Kakuzu only tightened his hold, and Hidan felt his trachea strain under the pressure. The threads – which was what they were – closed in on him, tightening themselves relentlessly around his pale neck, pressing against his arteries now, cutting off the oxygen to his brain.

Kakuzu watched enthralled as the threads began to leave marks so crisp and red against pale skin. It was beautiful.

Hidan gasped again, like a fish out of water. His vision was going black, blurry, fading in flashes as he struggled just to breathe. Focus was beyond his abilities at the moment and he felt his mind slipping. Desperation came crashing and rocked him. He shivered, still struggling, as the curious exhilaration of knowing he was most likely going to die rang through him, throbbed within his solar plexus, and condensed and concentrated itself to escape him as a bittersweet drop of heat that bathed the underside of his now erect shaft.

Oh Jashin how long was the bastard going to keep this up? Was he finally going to die? Was this his punishment for agreeing to engage in such a blasphemous act, in the name of Jashin? His knees – they slid sideways by just an inch. They were almost giving out. He gasped again, still struggling with the binds that had enveloped his neck from out of nowhere. Tears stung the corners of his eyes.

Hidan's mouth was, by now, wide open, desperately trying to take in whatever air it could, and just when he thought the threads were going to sever his arteries, Kakuzu loosened his grip around him slightly – only slightly – and rammed his open mouth onto his cock, pushing down until he could feel the tip touch the back of the other man's throat.

Hidan gagged, still fighting to breathe. The bastard hadn't given him time to suck in even half a breath.

"We made a deal, preacher," the darker one growled, holding Hidan down over him, still struggling for breath. Sounds of protest went muffled as Hidan's throat reverberated sound against the bigger man's manhood. Still gripping Hidan's hair, Kakuzu leaned over so that they were cheek to cheek, his mouth to Hidan's ear.

Hidan stopped, anticipating another tug, or blow. He could feel the other's breath hotly caress his ear, and for a moment… the world stood still.

And then it came, as soft as the touch of eyelashes on skin, and as rich and low as ever: a whisper. "Get back to work." It was only a whisper, laced with threat, but it sent a jolt of electricity down his entire body. Another wave of bittersweet stickiness found its way down his shaft and he felt himself twitch down there.

The binds around his neck loosened further and slithered away, disappearing into nowhere. But Kakuzu's hand was still in Hidan's hair. "Bite me and I'll snap your neck in two," he gritted out, tightening his hold on those silver locks for just a moment before finally letting go. Unbeknownst to Hidan, the threads slipped back into the seams on his wrist.

Breathing through his nose, Hidan let his mouth, tongue, and teeth do the work. Shit, what the hell was that? He still didn't have enough air. He still felt dizzy, his vision still blurred every now and then, and he paused only to gasp and moan on the exhale, slowly coming down from the high of blood rushing to his head.

Violet orbs stole glances at green, staring at the older man under hooded eyelids. So, the heathen assumed he was in control. Hidan smirked, tongue snaking out to wrap around the head of said heathen's member. Oh, sweet ignorance! This was only the beginning of the ritual. Eyes still locked on the other's, he dragged the wetness down the pulsing vein that twined and branched around the trunk. He decided that once he was done with this bastard, there will be blood. Lots and lots of it.

Meanwhile, Kakuzu remained mindful of the fact that the end of this little clandestine deal making was going to end in bloodshed and violence. A lot of violence. Because once he was done with pretty boy here, he was going to rip his guts out, disembowel him while his heart still beat and his brain still registered pain, and finally, finally, get back at this idiot who had ruined the peace and quiet of his mornings since he was transferred here. All that precious time wasted. Time he could never get back.

Kakuzu literally growled down at Hidan as the aforementioned thoughts coursed through his conscience and yanked the Jashinist away from him, holding on tightly to the back of his neck. The fresh red and white lines around the man's neck flexed with every swallow and movement of muscle as those violet eyes glared dangerously back at him. In a flash, Hidan was picked up from the floor and thrown onto the bed, face down.

Reflexively, Hidan tried to get up, not at all appreciative of the way he was being manhandled. Fucking good for nothing heathen bastard thinks he can push me around? He was on his elbows, one knee almost bent to push himself up on all fours. "You fucker—" he began.

But Hidan didn't get too far with his comeback, because in the next instant he found himself staring into the grubby pillow. The bastard had him pinned onto the mattress, one strong hand pushing down hard on the back of his head, the other one holding his side. "Damn right," the older man growled. Hidan could discern the sound of fabric rustling against skin as the inmate pushed his pants down to his thighs, and then: "Because I'm going to be the only one doing the fucking around here."

And Kakuzu made his point very, very clear as he aligned himself with the preacher and, hardly giving Hidan any time to realize what was going on, let himself spear through as brutally and forcefully as his anatomy would allow.

"Fuck!" Hidan screamed, lifting his head an inch off the pillow despite the weight of the other man's hand on the back of his head. Shit, that hurt! His head was pushed back down into the uneven fluff of the pillow, blocking his air supply momentarily again. But he threw it back up, back arching in resistance, both hands fisting the sheets as the other man hit home once again. He felt Kakuzu shift to place one foot on the ground, harnessing better leverage while he supported the rest of his body weight on his other knee, ramming ruthlessly into him still.

At one point (he couldn't tell which for sure) Hidan felt the searing pain melt into rhythmically intensifying waves of pleasure, and he was by then trying hard not to scream from how abominably good it felt. Trying so hard that when he grit his teeth and clenched his eyes shut, he could practically taste bits of enamel as they scraped themselves right off.

There was little doubt that the guards and other inmates didn't know by now what was going down in cell 2783. The hall literally bounced off echoes of metal grating on metal every time the bed creaked. And realization hit Hidan like a ton of bricks: everybody was going to know. Muscle slid brutally against nerves and he let out a rather loud moan.

"Don't tell me you're liking this now." Again that low reverberating voice in his ear. This time Kakuzu was pulling him back by his rosary. "Are you?" Hot breath hit his cheek and he moaned loudly once again, almost choking as the metal pressed against his trachea. Fucking weird old man.

Kakuzu chuckled, his pace a little slower as he leaned over Hidan, pulling the man up by his rosary. "Do this often, altar boy?" he teased, watching ecstasy write itself all over the preacher's face as he moved within him.

However, the show was short lived, because ecstasy turned into rage in almost an instant, and before he could even register what hit him, Kakuzu felt the sharp pain in his side as the Jashinist's elbow crashed into his ribs. When he opened his eyes, it was to the sight of an enraged and panting Hidan straddling him and pressing the blade of his stabber to his neck. Kakuzu chuckled, leaning his head back against the dirty wall, watching hate shine through those violet eyes. Damn him for being careless enough to let the knife under his pillow.

Hidan pressed his face closer to the inmate's, cheek touching cheek. "I told you…" he drawled, mocking the tone Kakuzu had used on him just moments ago. The knife pressed into Kakuzu's neck, blade drawing thick blood when angled against dark skin. "Don't ever fucking call me that."

The Jashinist pulled back just a little – enough to observe the expression on the inmate's face. Bastard. He dragged the blade further down, blood now spilling continuously off the edge of the tip, ruby drops spilling into the inmate's shirt and blossoming in the fabric. Kakuzu winced, then brought up his hand to stop Hidan from going further.

Hidan issued no resistance this time, only licked his lips amidst a grin."What's the matter?" A whisper. And oh how those violet orbs lit up at the sight of blood! Kakuzu watched as the other man leaned in and flattened his tongue across the oozing red streak on his neck. "Scared, old man?"

Kakuzu chuckled, louder this time. Scared of a little cut? Didn't the idiot even stop to think why he was in death row?

The knife kept dragging lower… until it began to draw circles on his chest. It was then that Kakuzu noticed the other man grinding rhythmically down on him, well defined muscles flexing in a fluidity that matched the circular motions of his hips. Curiously, Hidan also seemed to be muttering something incoherent, playing with the rosary in one hand and drawing shapes on Kakuzu's skin with the blade in the other. Was he praying? It looked like it. Kakuzu watched him behind hooded eyes, pressed against the wall and bleeding, too engrossed in pleasure to be bothered to push the priest away.

Hidan's prayers were interspersed with hisses and moans, the incantations rising in pitch and volume as he drew closer to release. Meanwhile, Kakuzu struggled to maintain his composure, feeling a familiar fire begin to uncoil in his loins.

Somehow, in the middle of all that chanting, Hidan swiped the blade across his palm. The warm blood that streamed down from the cut alerted Kakuzu that something wasn't right; something wasn't going his way. In a flash, a big strong hand was wrapped around Hidan's neck, green eyes glinting angrily. Whatever the fuck he was doing, he needed to stop, Kakuzu thought. It was getting way too weird for his liking. He also took this moment to regret not having listened to the Jashinist earlier when he'd been preaching about his religion's rituals. Kakuzu would have known what to expect if he'd been paying attention! And right now, Hidan was only wearing a devilish grin, lost somewhere in between pleasure of the flesh, and pleasure of the religious kind. Not what you'd be expecting from someone who was getting his throat crushed at the moment…

Perhaps Kakuzu was supposed to be scared.

It took Hidan less than twenty seconds to draw the Jashin symbol in his own blood on Kakuzu's broad chest. Bleeding hand placed right in the middle of the symbol now, Hidan rocked more forcefully on the other man's cock, moaning louder each time. Kakuzu's grip on Hidan's neck loosened slightly, pleasure dulling his thoughts and his concentration.

"Mmm fuck!" Jashin, that felt good~

Kakuzu watched as Hidan bounced on him now, impaling himself on his cock each time he let himself fall. It was time. He watched as Hidan's face contorted into an expression of pure pleasure, muscles clenching all around him, and the warm spurts of his seed decorated the bloody symbol on Kakuzu's chest. Kakuzu bit his lip, grip around Hidan tightening, signaling his release.

By the time he was seeing stars, he felt a sharp stabbing pain pierce right through his heart. He'd suspected as much. Hidan had driven that blade right through his heart.

Without a second thought, he brought up his other hand, gripped Hidan's head, and snapped it to the right. He could hear the distinct icrunch/i of bone and nerves shattering. Satisfied, he let his hands fall to his sides, twitching in pain on the mattress. He could feel his own blood washing down his chest, pulsing out of his body, pulsing weakly by the moment as his heart gave up its struggle and finally came to a stop. Hidan's body fell forward and crashed against his chest.

After which there was dead silence…

But only for a while.

There was one thing Hidan hadn't known about Kakuzu, and it was that the man had five chances at cheating death.

And there was one thing neither of them knew about Hidan: he was immortal.

Guess Jashin delivered on that promotion after all.