#;KakuHida tag tbt

[daybreakrising]

@crackuzu​ asked: five times kissed // we haven't actually done anything yet but our zombois pls and thank from this meme

Under a cut bc these will all get long.

You get six bc I couldn’t decide which pov to write them from so each zomboi gets three. you almost got ten tbh but I restrained myself

ONE

It was an itch under his skin, a frustrating niggle that wouldn't go away. It had been over a week since their last opportunity to let off some steam and shed a little blood. A week! A week of endless, pointless travel, for a cause he didn't even care about.

Frustrating.

He was craving a good fight, something to get his blood pumping, anything to settle that craving he couldn't shake. Violence was his lifeblood. He was starving without it. All he asked for was a little bit of chaos, something to take the edge off, but so far, he was being denied.

Hidan eyed the broad shoulders of the man stalking ahead of him, face currently buried in a map. He still didn't really know what to make of his partner. He was, by all appearances, possibly the most antisocial man he'd ever known. His only redeeming factor, in his opinion, was his own taste for violence.

A sly smile spread across Hidan's face.

If he couldn't seek out violence elsewhere, he'd just have to seek it here. Kakuzu had a short and violent temper. He'd already poked and prodded at it a few times, but it never seemed to go further than a brief altercation – and that wasn't going to be enough. He needed to do something to really piss him off.

He moved fast, knowing he had a limited window before he was sussed out. He appeared directly in front of the other man, fisted a hand in the collar of his cloak, and dragged him in. His lips met the fabric of Kakuzu's mask for a fleeting second before he was flung backwards, his back hitting a nearby tree hard enough to shake loose a whole heap of leaves and dead branches.

Hidan grinned, rubbing a hand to the ache in his jaw where a fist had struck it. It hurt like a bitch, but it was worth the fury in the other man's eyes. Maybe now the bastard would fight him.

TWO

When he wasn't whining or prattling on about his god, Hidan wasn't so bad, really.

Either that or he was finally going mad after his many long years of life. That was also a possibility. Sure, he got under his skin from time to time and he had definitely considered all the ways he would like to kill him – he was starting to get creative with ideas, too – but… he had his pros to combat some of the cons. Some.

He didn't probe him with questions he didn't want to answer, but he listened when he did reveal even the faintest personal information. He filled silences without pressuring him for a response – mostly – and did, upon occasion, have interesting things to say. He had a sense of humour, which, albeit a little more morbid, aligned with his own.

And, possibly the most important of them all, they were a team.

That had been forced on them, of course, but that was irrelevant. Pushing two people together didn't automatically mean they would work, and they worked. For all their bickering and bitching, they were a flawless team. It had been a long time since Kakuzu could rely on someone quite like he relied on Hidan. That meant something to him.

Damnit. He might as well admit it. He didn't hate Hidan.

He stopped dead, cutting off Hidan's idle rambling about who-knows-what as the other man promptly walked straight into his back. In the midst of the bitching that immediately ensued, Kakuzu turned, grasped Hidan by the chin, and silenced him with a kiss. It was brief, distinctly not traditionally romantic, and possibly quite awkward.

"Shut up, Hidan."

THREE

The blood was like iron in his mouth, in his nose, the stench of it drenching the air around him in a way that couldn't be matched away from the slaughter of a battlefield. His fingers trembled as his skin returned to its regular colour, the curse markings fading as the last of the life drained from his unsuspecting victim.

Oh, and it felt good.

Violet eyes searched the rubble and ruin around him, bodies littered in all directions, the aftermath of their rampage a beautiful sight to behold. At last, he found him, rising over the slumped form of the target they had come for. No doubt, Hidan mused, checking he was in a suitable condition for the exchange. Him and his bloody money.

He watched Kakuzu nod to himself, swiping a hand through the loose strands of hair that had fallen free from his head covering during the battle. The mask hung open, revealing the dark line of stitching that split his face in two. Just looking at it, Hidan could feel the raised threads beneath his fingertips, the ridged edges where they met skin.

It was a curious thing, the way his fingers itched to touch every time he saw them.

Riding on the high of battle, he crossed the distance between them, teeth flashing in a grin as he stepped over the corpse and into Kakuzu's eyeline. Blood streaked the other man's face, a single spray of crimson. His heavy breaths matched Hidan's, the fire in those curious eyes mirrored in his own. This, Hidan knew, was as much a high for Kakuzu as it was for him.

Their gazes met – one beat, two.

Their lips met next, and Kakuzu tasted blood.

FOUR

Hidan was being particularly annoying today.

If he'd stopped talking at all since that morning, it had only been to eat, and even then, that didn't stop him for long. He really had no manners when he chose. To make matters worse, he had even adopted that really irritating whine that he knew drove him mad. Which, of course, is why he did it. Kakuzu wasn't stupid. He knew Hidan was trying to get under his skin.

Annoyingly, it was working.

Not for the first time, he cursed his own foolish self for being weak enough to feel for the idiot. It would be far less complicated if he could still honestly say he despised the little shit and didn't care what happened to him. Although if he kept this up, he might change his mind after all.

It took about another hour before he reached his breaking point.

A hand closed around Hidan's throat, the not-quite-flat rock of the valley wall providing a perfect surface upon which to slam him. He hoped there were some particularly pointy edges at his back. His eyes narrowed as Hidan flashed a wicked grin, a silver brow quirking suggestively only moments before a hand pulled him flush to the leaner figure, and a quick finger hooked the mask down from his face.

Sneaky bastard.

Hidan had barely enough time to whisper out a "Gotcha" before lips closed over his own in a bruising kiss.

FIVE

It was cold, dank and dark.

He had long ago stopped smelling the moist earth, the rot, stopped feeling the tickle of insects crawling over his skin. He couldn't even feel the pain any longer, which was a blessing in itself. In its place was… nothing. Just endless nothing. Endless darkness. Endless silence.

That, in itself, was agony, like a searing light behind closed lids, burning, burning, b-

Light.

An eye cracked open, blinded at once by the shafts of daylight streaming down from above. It hurt after so long in the dark, but for once his pain was wonderful. Pain meant he was alive, still alive, still able to feel. But how-

As his eye adjusted to the light, shapes and colours became distinct from one another. He saw chunks of earth rising, revealing more and more light. It took longer to access the finer details, to see the threads curled around each piece of his earthen prison. Kakuzu.

If his mouth weren't full of earth, he would have laughed. Of course. Of course he'd find him. Was it possible to feel your heart constrict – race – when it wasn't attached to your brain? He closed his eye, basked in the heat of the sun he could feel once again, and waited to be saved.

He felt the brush of threads against his cheek, felt a breeze ripple through his tangled hair. He felt the grass against his skin, felt the familiar sting of the stitches working their way through his flesh. Though his mouth was clear, there were no complaints this time. He would never complain about pain again. Well… maybe.

Fingertips brushed against his cheek, framed his face. Hair tickled against his forehead and, even before he opened his eyes, he could see the face above his own. That darker skin, so contrasting against his, those curiously coloured eyes he had always found fascinating, the raised black threads across the cheeks… Kakuzu. Lips pressed to his own and Hidan felt life surge through him, warming his cold, cold body. He was saved. Kakuzu had come back for him.

Something shifted by his ear, and he stirred with a jolt.

A single eye opened.

It was cold, dank and dark.

And he was alone.

Alone.

SIX

"Oi, Kakuzu…"

A page turned.

"What are you reading?"

He didn't lift his gaze from the page, didn't even falter in his reading. In his head, he counted down from five, and made it to three before a weight leaned on his shoulder and a face appeared in his periphery.

"A book." He muttered, doing his best to ignore what was almost certainly a pout on the idiot's face. "You should try it sometime. You might learn something."

Kakuzu didn't have much experience with cats, but he knew enough to correctly liken Hidan to one – particularly when the zealot deliberately nudged beneath his arm and slid defiantly into his lap, disrupting his vision of the book and, therefore, forcing him to finally pay attention to his partner.

"You're annoying, you're aware?" Hidan merely gave him a shit-eating grin, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. With a roll of the eyes that was almost fond, Kakuzu marked his page and set the book aside. "If I pay attention to you for the next five minutes, can I get back to my book in peace?"

"I don't know." Hidan shrugged. "You'll have to find out, hm?" There was a barely audible murmur of 'idiot' in a tone that was definitely affectionate. Because he knew the little shit would gloat if given the chance, Kakuzu opted to keep him silent in the only way that worked.

-

It was just a discarded page, torn at the edges and trapped in a bush, angrily fluttering in the wind as it clung on for its life. He didn't quite know what had made him think of that moment in particular. Perhaps it was the smear of dried blood, like rust upon the parchment, that had made him think of Hidan. Perhaps it was his freshly awakened mind searching for some familiarity to hold onto, unearthing a memory at random.

Or, perhaps, it was simply because Hidan was the first thing on his mind.

He wasn't with them. He'd noticed because he had looked, because he had searched for the partner who had always been at his side from the day they met. It had been his first thought, even before he acknowledged that he had, apparently, been resurrected from the dead. Where is Hidan?

The wind finally won the battle, the page tearing in two, the separate pieces whisked away in different directions. Kakuzu had never put much stock in symbolism, but even he couldn't deny there might have been something in that.

He smiled. He might have been killed by those brats, but Hidan… Hidan was alive.

And now, so was he.

#crackuzu #;even hell runs on money (asks; kakuzu) #;I'll never die (asks; hidan) #;KakuHida tag tbt #( I could write these boys for days )