Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Waking ❯ Bleed me bare and dry ( Chapter 6 )

For those of you who've been following this story...

I've been rewriting chapters (minor edits sometimes, other times completely new chapters of text) because of what feedback I've gotten...so, yeah, I actually listen to what you guys tell me.

Hope you enjoyed the ride so far...we're not even halfway through.

 

So. Yeah.

Comment? Please? You might just get a whole new chapter.

 

  

Technical: this is a rewrite of the LJ community “nsn_roundrobin.” Anyways, this is from the “serious, plot-driven story.” So, Waking is a blend of LJ user etsumilau's “Icha Icha Paradise” (Chapter One), and LJ user blck_hyacinth's “Infection” (Chapter Two). Seeing that I wrote the third chapter (which some of you may or may not have read), I couldn't let my section of the story stand still...so, being the bored kid I tend to be, I wrote. Please note, though, that this is largely new prose, with some quotes from our celebrated author's chapters. While there is a huge emphasis from their works on the first ten sections (25 pages or so), it is primarily my words, and not stuff you've read. So, don't forget to follow the Main RR's progress, `cause we're going completely different directions, I'm sure. XD

 

 

Waking Visions.

Despairing dreams of a sun and moon

 

 

Bleed me bare and dry.
Chapter Six, Naruto…by Taes


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My mouth is full of screams for him in me, so terrible and pleasurable I can feel tears drip down my scarred, whisker-marked cheeks.

Sweat, hot, breathe

—wet—

hold me, break me, bleed me bare and dry,

move with me, pull with me, put your demon tongue on my neck, my cheek, bring me tears and don't fucking leave me raw and bleeding, you worthless whore—

I gasp.

My eyes seem to close oh-so quietly against the mask that's become his face, but I can feel his laughter like I can sense his heat, a sensual, hateful body even under this man's control, nothing more than angry blood or awful power,

I can't think

fuck him, it feels like hell—

—hot,

wet,

smooth—
< br> —and oh-so hard. I scream with pain-filled pleasure that I never meant to feel.

Shit.

Hold me tightly, bear me closely, don't even think to hide me up and—

—crap.

His hands on my back are hardly soft, not like Neji's were or like his.should.have.been, showing me how to move my legs up and out of the way, with all my weight on. my. damn. back, painful, tight, oh. so. fucking. full of—

—pain—

—his hands on my chest, needle-sharp and—oh god—he's losing himself…

“Naruto-kun,” Orochimaru's words through Sasuke's mouth. The smile is too wide and golden eyes are slitted to hold in the hurt—

—no…to keep the pleasure.

The serpent speaks. “Bear my name to Konoha…show your precious kage exactly how well your mission goes…” he laughs, low and long, and this action more than the feminine, snake-like speech chills me…

…I look into his glassy orbs, and in the glimmer of gold I see blackredblack eyes staring back with something akin to despair.

I would have laughed, if not for the ache…ripping, tearing, bleeding soreness, wet, wet, red. Instead I gasp, “Sa—” sharp moan, swallowed mirth, “Sasuke—” and no noise now, except for a wordless scream Orochimaru delights in causing.

He takes my arm, holds it still and etches something there—

…don't heal…I think, desperate, and work to block the fox-chakura from entering that arm at all…shit…one hand to do all this…

my blood is my ink-stone, my fingers the brush…remember the meaning...recall the life to the words. I start the job in swift movements, sobbing all the while and resisting his ill-wrought attempts to make me feel pleasure from something as debasing, as awful as this.

Neji was right...he doesn't do anything to help me...

For an instant, the mask of cool indifference (worn in my head more to stall my mind rather than his eyes...). through the mockery of tears and screams, my breath catches. Sasuke stares down at me, a brilliant, flightless spirit who once.had.wings.

I bear my teeth, but anger only runs so deep...

I'm breaking.
my will has faded...
all because of him staring
down at me.

I close my eyes to his form, giving myself over entirely to his harsh lovemaking...

Orochimaru stares. “hahhh, just” a grunt, a swallowed breath from a friend's ruby lips, “like you to” thrust his hips forward to grind into me, ever inward “to give up” he lets out more laughter “so...soon...” he trails off.

I moan, and think (behind my eyes); I see characters, standing for syllables, in place of words that carry my Will.

By now, Orochimaru cannot feel the blood on his pale, white back…the traces of me on his fair skin. I start to babble incoherently, easing into a sutra so powerful it makes my belly hot with flames of—

—but not my cuts, don't even touch that, go out, I need my blood—

Not even the most renown calligrapher can create work with no medium…no sumi… no ink

My gaze is locked on the ceiling, averted from his knowing eye—

—and everything is in place.

I visualize my hands coming together twice, and I am glad that I sent my thoughts to the gods...so I think (briefly, briefly) of the Heart Sutra, of the Fourth Hokage's scrolls and of Kakashi's wise writings. I envision a circle of red.

The web of chakura is set around him, and my power is almost loosed…

Strangely, oddly, his skin brushes against my belly.

I think almost instantly of the monster inside me, of the golden skin hiding his fiery breath...and I want to smile...I want him to touch me...with soft and feathery fingers, not an incubus' enraged hands. All this, and finally it occurs to me.

Tsunade was right...you have to want it...for all to fall
in
to place.

I lie still for a moment, reach up, and smear the blood across his forehead. The character for bind.

“Shinkon wo shikarikomu no fuuin.” I whisper, throat hoarse from screaming. Even the meaning is lost on me…only the power do I know. do I recognize.

Orochimaru's eyes flicker towards me in amazement, as though surprised by my actions when he believed me broken. Characteristically, he starts to laugh, “red kit…” he murmurs.

I shake my head frantically, willing my chakura to take him out

I wish it, with tight lips. Come home...

“That's not enough,” he whispers,

Come home, bastard, and let me turn the tables.

just as the color fades from his eyes and his whole body goes cold.

I smile with all my teeth.

He was too hasty. Orochimaru's eyes are pools of loathing, golden black like the dying sun of my dreams, and it's all so

empty

I close my fist and open it…draw a circle in the air to symbolize the eternal soul—trusting myself, I disentangle our hot, sweaty limbs and thrust the same hand through his chest, and

pull

the snake

out.

It's over in minutes: what took months to prepare.

My heart nearly stops when something comes out with me, some cloud of black dust, blinding me, filling my mouth, stinging my arms and writhing all around my bare skin—oh what can I do, but loose the fire? And let the fox—inside me forever more—swallow the snake…I welcome the snake to the kitsune's lair...that terrible gate where only one can survive...

So what's left for me there, but a “healing” touch...a bloody Sasuke? falling (atop) me.

Orochimaru is gone….and this only leaves…

…him…
on
me
on
him.

White and red and black.

(my mind is breaking)

white.and.red.and.black

whiteredblack blue

I start to laugh, wheezing and rubbing at my naked skin, as I realize how utterly exposed we are…A wave of modesty flashes over me alongside hot blood. Anxiously, I rub at the black charcoal-like ashes on my hands, under my fingernails...But there's not time for that, though, barely enough to search the room (ignoring the shouts for backup in the main part of the village) for garments.

I find them in what may have been the guards' quarters...two robes of simple material, and hastily I tie it (not paying any mind to the collar). I return to Sasuke

(the moon)

and I look upon him (the doll) while the gray fabric drapes over my arm.

With a slow and half-vacant smile—it doesn't touch my eyes—I lift him, pulling the sleeves over his arms as though he really were a doll...the belt has to be tied too tight (I wonder, did Orochimaru worry about his figure?), but there's no for it...soon enough he'll be—

—opening red eyes.

damn.

it isn't over yet.

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Next time: Sasuke. cracking eyes.