WARNINGS: Shotacon, Dub-con (dubious consent, for people [like me] who were formerly unfamiliar with this term ^^), OroKimi.

I don't know where I got this idea from. But I think we can all agree that Oro-chan's a PedoBear XD

Anyway, enjoy, read and review ^^


Orochimaru smirked as he gazed upon the battle brewing in the Mist Village below. The Kaguya Clan, hopeless fools that they were, were finally launching an all-out attack on the village they once called home. It would be their ultimate folly. And quite possibly their last.

The world was no longer a place for such mindless savagery and bloodshed. This would most certainly be the end of the Kaguya. He chuckles inwardly, darkly amused by the stupidity of it all.

Suddenly, Orochimaru hears footsteps behind him. Tiny, quick, quiet footsteps. A child's footsteps, coming his way.

He turns and strikes out at the blur of purple and white flying towards him. His would-be attacker hits the ground with a grunt, and Orochimaru can get a better look at him.

His hair is a silvery white. His skin pale from too little sunlight. Clothes hung loosely from his slender frame. His forehead marked by two red dots, like twin drops of blood.

So, this child is a Kaguya as well. This just got a little more interesting.

The boy rises shakily to his feet, raising a dagger made of bone. He runs to attack him again.

"Just a moment," Orochimaru cautions. The boy halts in his tracks. Orochimaru chuckles.

"Hasty, aren't you? Put that dagger away. I'm not from this village."

He lets his wicked intent bleed into his snakelike golden eyes. The boy freezes up in fear. But their expression soon softens into one that could have passed for kindness if he were any other man.

"What you're seeking is just below this ridge, child," he continues, gesturing offhandedly to the fires that were beginning to start in the distance.

"Go on. Have at it."

The child only hesitates for a moment before rushing past Orochimaru, jumping over the ledge to join the battle.

Throughout the slaughter, Orochimaru tries to keep his eyes trained on the little dot of white amongst the flames and blood. But there is an explosion at some point, and by the time the smoke had cleared, the child was gone.

It was only a minor inconvenience. Orochimaru was a patient man. And besides, that boy showed immense potential in the way he fought and killed. How he had struck out at him without hesitation. For a brief fraction of a second, Orochimaru had seen a killer living in that boy's and beautiful, the child had the makings of perfection.

The makings of a new body.

Yes, the child would become a fine new vessel. But before that, there is something else he wants from that boy. Something far more personal, and having absolutely nothing at all to do with immortality.

Orochimaru's blood rushes at the thought of those creamy legs spreading for him, of those clear, focused eyes becoming clouded with pain and pleasure as he took Orochimaru deep inside him.

He would have to get older before Orochimaru took over his body. He might as well have some fun with it before that time came.


It took weeks of searching and waiting, but he finally found the boy again.

His clothes were torn. He was a little thinner than before, and dirtier than Orochimaru would have liked. But he was alive. And that was all that mattered at the moment.

Orochimaru peered into the clearing, where the boy was standing next to a pool of shallow water. The child turned around, his eyes widening. A soft gasp passed over his lips as he moved and crouched in front of a small flower that had sprouted out of the rocky soil.

"Why are you blooming in a place like this?" He asked. He seemed so serious, so concerned over the welfare of a single insignificant plant.

Of course, the flower gave no response.

"How come you won't answer me, huh?"

Orochimaru moved in closer, still going unnoticed by the child.

"Oh, so you're going to ignore me too, then?"

His voice rose and became angry. He raised his dagger, his body trembling.

"Who cares, anyway? It's not like anyone will see you here!"

"That will do."

The boy whirled around.

"Maybe, just maybe, there is no purpose in life. But if you linger a while longer in this world, you may find something of value in it."

Orochimaru wore a sickly sweet smile. It dripped poisoned honey and false kindness. But the boy didn't see that hidden venom. He stood up and turned to face Orochimaru more completely.

"Like how you found that flower...Like how I found you."

He reached out and stroked the boy's face, feeling the grit of the dirt that concealed the softness of his skin. He looked deep into his soft blue-green eyes, so beautiful and expressive. The child looked back up at him in shock, having never been touched in such a manner, or looked at in such an intimate way. The feeling of someone's skin against his, of someone looking at him with such intensity, was a new, if not altogether unwelcome sensation.

"Come. It's time to go," Orochimaru said, his voice almost a whisper.

The boy blushed as the had left his cheek, the warmth of his caress lingering there.

He followed after Orochimaru, running to catch up, and nearly stumbling over a fallen branch.

"Don't be in such a hurry, boy. There's no rush."

"Do you have a name, boy?" he asked.

"K-Kimimaro. My name is Kimimaro."

Orochimaru held the child's squeezed it, looking for comfort and reassurance in that simple grasp.

Orochimaru laughed deep in his throat.

"How long have you been alone, Kimimaro?"

"…A long time, I guess." His breath catches, and Kimimaro is worried that he might cry. But Orochimaru pulls him closer, holding him tightly, so securely.

"Not to worry, child. You won't be alone any longer."


Kabuto's head jerked upward as he heard his master's voice.

"Hold on now. Just a little while longer, and it will be alright."

Kabuto ran from his room, curiosity taking hold. His master did not normally utter such reassuring words.

"Orochimaru-sama!" He called out.

Orochimaru was carrying a small child in his arms, no older than nine or ten. He was trembling, his face flushed with fever.

"Kabuto-kun, this poor child seems to have fallen ill. Do be a good boy and fix him up a little, will you?"

Knowing better than to argue with his lord, Kabuto bowed deeply .

"Yes, Orochimaru-sama. Please follow me."

Orochimaru carried the child to his lab, laying him down on the table usually reserved for his experiments. Running chakra through his hands, Kabuto brought the fever down, feeling Orochimaru's watchful eye on him the whole time.

"It was easy to fix, my Lord," Kabuto said, once he had finished. "He'll be regaining consciousness shortly."

"Thank you, Kabuto. That will be all."

Bowing again, Kabuto left the room, throwing a hateful glance over his shoulder at the child on the operating table.


Kimimaro awoke in a daze, the face above him a hazy blur.

"Who are you?" he asked blearily.

"My name is Orochimaru. Are you feeling any better, Kimimaro?"

Kimimaro blinked. The face above him came into focus. He sat up carefully, shaking the drowsiness from him. The pain and fever seemed to have left him. He felt whole again.

"…Yes," he replied. "Much better."


Orochimaru took Kimimaro's face in both of his hands, once again giving him that deathly sweet smile.

"Come. Let's get you cleaned up."

Kimimaro followed Orochimaru through dimly lit hallways until they reached their destination.

A large bathtub sat in the middle of a tiled floor. Orochimaru turned the knobs until it began filling with warm water.

He turned his attention back to Kimimaro. He removed his clothing one article at a time, slowly, as if he had been given a great gift, and wished to take his time unveiling it.

Kimimaro blushed as the last piece of clothing hit the floor, perhaps sensing the inappropriateness of the situation, standing as bare as the day he was born, the older man's eyes devouring him hungrily.

He felt himself being lifted up and placed gently in the water.

He had only ever bathed in ice-cold water, which had been thrown on him by uncaring hands. This water was warm, and the hands that began washing him were gentle in their motions.

First hair, then face, and then his neck and shoulders, Orochimaru cleansed the dirt and blood from his body. He trailed his ghost white fingers along the protrusions of Kimimaro's ribs, a silent testament to years of malnutrition and neglect.

"Did your clan ever bother to feed you, Kimimaro?"

"Yes…when they remembered to. Sometimes, they would forget for a week or so."

Anger bubbled up in Orochimaru's throat. To leave one with such power to waste away in a prison cell…it didn't seem right. Such a waste of potential.

Kimimaro allowed himself to be pulled out of the water and dried off, smiling the whole time. He was rather enjoying this newfound kindness, something he had never experienced before.

He gladly accepted the food offered to him, downing it eagerly. Orochimaru never took his eyes off the boy. Neither did the smirk ever leave his face.

"Why are you doing this for me?" He asked, once the last bite had been swallowed. "I'm sure I've caused you a lot of trouble."

"It was nothing at all," Orochimaru laughed, and led the boy to his bedroom.

He had let his imagination taunt him with fantasies such as these for far too long. It was time to make them reality.

"I am afraid that there is something I need from you, Kimimaro."

Kimimaro nodded.

"Anything you want, Orochimaru-sama."

Hearing those words from those soft, young lips sent shivers up Orochimaru's back.

Taking Kimimaro's chin in a loose grip, he pressed a kiss to those soft lips.

Kimimaro didn't so much as make a sound in protest as his tongue invaded his mouth, or as his hands untied the yukata the boy was wearing. The only noised that escaped him were little pants and needy moans.

Orochimaru stuck a couple fingers in his mouth before pressing the two slick fingers to Kimimaro's backside.


Another new feeling. And a rather painful one at that. Kimimaro bit his lip to keep from screaming as those two fingers scissored inside him, moving in and out of him slowly. He told himself that it would be okay. That Orochimaru would never hurt him for no reason. Not after he had been so kind.

He felt relieved as the fingers left him. But his relief soon waned when he felt something considerably larger press into him.

He tried to hold back his scream, and failed spectacularly.

"AAAAUGH!" he cried, tears pouring freely down his face as Orochimaru pounded into him without mercy.

In. A stabbing feeling, akin to a hot kunai stuck inside him.

Out. A burning feeling, like he had been set on fire.

In and out again.

Pain. Pain is everywhere, burning him, consuming him. And yet...he wants to do this. Wants to make Orochimaru happy. And if this was the only way to do it, then he would take the pain and be grateful for it.

Hot blood poured down his legs. He feels that thing throbbing inside his body.

Orochimaru is letting out little grunts and shallow groans. His grip on Kimimaro's hips tightens suddenly.

A hot, sticky substance fills Kimimaro. He continues to cry, unable to contain himself. Whatever is inside him is stinging badly, a thousand hornets lodged in his body.

Orochimaru strokes his hair lovingly as he pulls out with a mumbled half-apology.

"Thank you, Kimimaro. You're a very special boy."

Suddenly, the pain doesn't hurt as much. He manages a feeble smile, and a "Thank you, Orochimaru-sama," before he passes out.

This was what he'd wanted, after all. To have someone want him. To have someone love him.

Too bad he never knew that it was all a lie.

Review, critique, etc. We all know the drill by now :D Anyway, thanks for reading.