Alternative bands were always his favorite. The way they "rocked out and flowed all at the same time." He loved it. He loved it more than he loved his girlfriend, Temari. More than his cat, Leo. More than his fish, Google. More than his snake, Rapture. More than his best friend - me.

That's why I brought him here. Because he loved it. Silver hair, no shirt, skinny jeans, glow sticks on his necklace, on wrist bands, on his belt looks - it was the guy off Freddie v. Jason all over again. Except, more dancing, less raping of passed out girls (Or boys, for that matter). But he was much more beautiful than any of the singers on stage, who looked near to his appearance, yelling the lyrics into the mics and dancing on stage, sweating - doing what they loved.

But they were much less pretty. They're auburn and blue-gray, dull eyes were nothing compared to his "violent violet," as a lot of the girls back at school would call them. Just, astounding amounts of purple. His skin was a complexion that emos, goths and vampires envied, he was so pale. My darker skin looked so much more strong than his. He always looked sick, but the sick look fit him.

"Oh, Kakuzu, you're always so healthy and strong," he always teased, clinging to my arm and making the whole conversation - or whatever we were having at the time (i.e., lunch, studying, etc.) - very awkward; and for some reason, I always felt inferior to him. I knew I really wasn't. He wasn't on the basketball team, was he? He wasn't on any sport. He never worked out, but he was just a tough and quick little bugger for running away from the cops. All the dark sweatshirts really helped him to blend in so they couldn't figure out who it was. "If you're ever accused for anything by the cops, or you're in the middle of a bust, always put your hood up and run for your fucking life. Jail will mess you up, man..." I remember him telling me that when he was smoking a joint out my window. The smell wasn't too bad, and he looked... nostalgic, almost.

"Kakuzu?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

"..."

"Do you love me, too?"

"Yes, Hidan. Very much."

He couldn't remember that night. Thank whatever-higher-power.

He danced his way thought the crowd, having caught me sitting over by the wall. He got to me, "violent violet" more violent than ever. "Fuck no, man," he scolded, looking almost hurt. "You paid for second row tickets to Neon fucking Trees, and you're just sitting here?" he shook his head when I nodded; "I'm not going to let you be a pussy shit and sit this epic concert out!" He grabbed a glow stick off of his belt look and took my hand, putting the object in my palm.

"Let's fucking do this." He grinned at me, which put a slight smirk on my face.

Sweat, movement, lights, that's all that was around me. I couldn't see anything but the waving of Hidan's glow sticks, which be brought enough for every person in the whole room. People grabbed them and waved them, passing them on, and danced with Hidan, and just made friendly gestures toward everyone else. They all had something in common, like any group - they were having fun. It's just as if you went to church, and you showed your devotion, the people at said church would accept you, and you would be one of them. Accepted.

Here? You weren't "one of them." You were a body together, moving and sloshing around in a melodic way to the band's conduction.

You were part of something here.

I was part of something here.

More sweat, more lights, much more movement.

"Kakuzu!" Hidan called, "Kakuzu!"

Opening my eyes, he looked at me, sweaty and out of breath, like something out of a dream.

"Let's go to the next room! I need something to drink!"

I nodded, and we started for the side room, where there were couples making out next to the door, and inside the hallway. Hidan didn't seem to care; in fact, he didn't seem to even notice they were there at all. At the end of the hall, there was a water fountain. Hidan slowed, looking for it. "There," I said, walking a bit faster to catch up, and then putting my hand on his lower back, pushing him forward.

"Oh... Thanks," he said, smiling at me.

I nodded, looking a little bit more serious. His skin was slick, and my fingertips were warm. His core was even hotter, and the muscles that were under my hand were slowly contracting and tensing up as he walked. I strained myself from feeling more by biting my tongue.

"What's your problem?" he asked as we finally reached our destination at the end of the call. My hand was withdrawn, and I put it behind my back, rubbing my finger tips together. They were so rough. How could I put my rough fingers on something so smooth?

"Nothing," I said, "I'm just a little tired."

"Bull," he said, sneering. He leaned over to reach his lips to the stream of water, pressing the bar to get the stream going; "I've seen you in this mood before. The stance you're in?" he looked at me, gesturing to my hands behind my back, "It usually means you're fucking uncomfortable and you just want to get the fuck out before anything drastic happens," he took another sip of water. "As in," he stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "You like someone here."

"... So?" I growled.

"Who is it, man? I'll tell you who like here..."

I couldn't let him know. I really couldn't.

"There was this g... girl," would it be okay if I said guy? Higher power, where ever you are, please just get me out of this situation. "She was across the room, and she gave me a look. I wouldn't say I like her, it's just that I don't want her to come over, steal my wallet and rape me in the middle of the night..."

Hidan looked skeptical, eying me up in the wrong spots. He pursed his lips in a sour expression. "... I guess my gaydar was off..."

"Because I like you."

"He has a girlfriend, he has a girlfriend, he has a girlfriend, he has a girlfriend, he has a girlfriend... Damnit, Kakuzu! He has a GIRLFRIEND!" I screamed at myself in my head, just standing there with a blank expression. In my eyes, I knew the surprise - and relief - showed.

"What?" he asked, "Is there a problem?"

"You have a girlfriend..." I murmured, shakily. Now, I knew I was inferior. All those hours of shooting hoops wouldn't compare to what he just did. All the muscle that I had built up wouldn't compare to how many joints he had lit up and smoked out my window. My wall of no emotion wouldn't withstand his cascading waterfall of them.

"Temari? She broke up with me, dude. Like, three weeks ago."

"Oh? Sorry to hear." I was putting up a bigger wall. I refused to let any of this get through to him.

"I like you too, Hidan. Want to go out? We could go for dinner an a movie. Maybe after a few dates Ii could set up something in the back of my car. How about get married? We could adopt a kid. Buy a house, a car, have your pets in the house, we could have dinner parties where you would be my trophy wife and I would love you forever - I swear. I'll even give you a ring to prove it –"

"... Is that all? No hug? No ruffle of the hair?"

"Do you want to go out? Do you want to go out?..." I tried swallowing my tongue. I tried so hard. I didn't want it to get out. I wouldn't want to be kicked out of the locker rooms because the guys were afraid of me looking at them weird. I didn't want them to kick me off the team.

I didn't want to be rejected from the thing I was already apart of. Like a bad cell. Killed off and rejected from the body.

"Why would I do that?" I asked.

"Because my fucking girlfriend broke up with me?" he looked and sounded insulted.

I sighed, "Let's just get back to the concert..." I turned.

He caught my arm, and took me by surprise.

He tasted sweet. Like strawberry milk. Probably because he hadn't had anything to eat since we had left, other than water, and he had strawberry milk (alone) for dinner. But it was amazing. I usually didn't like strawberry milk, and this tasted better than any strawberry milk I'd ever tasted. An undertone of smoke and cigarettes drove me wild. I had been addicted to cigarettes since I was 15. I had just stopped a few months ago.

My arms wrapped around him and I drove him to the wall, lifting him up with a knee. My hands slowly devoured distance as they ghosted themselves down the pale thin sides, hands groping at thighs and lifting them around my waist. Thin arms slithered their way around my neck, pulling me in close as a hand gripped the back of my head with a fistful of thick black locks.

We separated, and he panted at me, chest heaving desperately, "I love you... more than anything in the fucking world... the fucking universe!"

"Shut up," I growled, getting in close again and putting our foreheads together, noses touching.

"What the fuck? Don't tell me to shut up, you son of a bitch!" he protested between curt kisses. "I spill my heart out to you and you tell me to shut up?"

"Just shut up," I growled again, "We're finding a Goddamn room." His lips stopped moving for a second, so I pulled away, worried that I had said something wrong. My eyes glanced to his, only to find worry and a little surprise.

"O-oh," he murmured, "... Dude, I've seen your cock. It's... it's..." I realized what he was trying to say. He was at a loss for words. I could understand. "It's... abnormally large," he finished.

Why, thank you.

"Yeah. It is. What of it?" I asked, kissing him once again. "You're kind of big yourself," I said with a smug tone, passing my hand over his thigh, a little too close for comfort for a best friend to go. I would have been angry if I were Hidan, and he would have done that to me. But I enjoyed torturing my friend. And he enjoyed the torture.

"Well fuck yeah, I know I'm big. I'm just kind of worried that... you know... might hurt me," he kissed back ferociously, knocking our teeth together for a moment.

I was confused. Hurt him? How was I...

Oh.

I drew back, looking him in the eye. "We're not on the same page. I'm, we're not going... that far yet."

Hidan blinked; "... Oooh. Oh. Okay. Okay, yeah. Let's find a fuckin' room, then."

I took him by the hand after letting him slide down to the floor, and dragged him to one of the rooms that reminded me of somewhere a whore would live in an abandoned building. I opened the first door after knocking, and saw that the mattress on the floor wasn't covered by two sweating bodies – possibly three. I dragged him into the room and shut the door. Finding the slide-lock, I pushed it into the notch in the wooden frame and kept it there.

We kissed. First, slowly. Then more and more heatedly until we were both in our underwear, clothes strewn across the room in odd places. When we looked, we laughed. I rolled onto my back, looking into his eyes like he was a lost lover.

"Hidan," I kissed his forehead, "I love you."

"I love you, too, dumbass," he smiled at me, kissing me on the lips, "Even if you bought me second row tickets to Neon fucking Trees and all we did was makeout in the back when we could have done it at home."

"Cheapass," I smiled.

"Look who's talking!"