#on delay

Because Orochimaru hasn’t forgotten the comment when they arrive at home, and with Tsunade’s assistance, Jiraiya is easily cornered, stripped, and finally pinned, with one brawny wrist secured to the headboard at a time. Orochimaru settles his weight above the toad sage, staking a claim with the press of his body and the kiss of his mouth, spinning the first small threads of warm arousal into something vibrant and blazing hot.

When his lover burns brightly, that heat is a craving that the serpent will always indulge, but with it come other more primal hungers. 

There is little sweeter than the sensation of fang sinking into tanned skin as Jiraiya squirms beneath him, his deep voice caught up in a high and slightly anguished cry. The copper-sweet scent of blood fills Orochimaru’s senses as crimson droplets well up from the punctures left behind, and he can’t help but lave his tongue over the small wounds.

“You really are a vampire…” Jiraiya whines and Orochimaru laughs. It’s a running joke from the day their team was formed, and Jiraiya has never quite let him forget it.

“You wondered what it was like to be devoured when I’m feeling hungry, so I’m going to show you. Silly toad, you know all too well that I’ve devoured you before, every solid inch in fact,” The serpent licks his lips for effect, “but this is different. You wanted my hunger, so have it. Be good for me and I’ll swallow you down, nice and hot. Be bad and I’ll take what I want - either way I get my fill.”

Orochimaru drifts a hand through unkempt white hair, pushing it away from Jiraiya’s face. “Now tell me, do you have any objections?”

Night-dark eyes fall conflicted, darting over Orochimaru’s shoulder to where Tsunade leans in against their lover’s back, her knees spread wide so that she might kneel close. She rests her chin against the curve of the serpent’s shoulder, enjoying the show as her lips brush porcelain skin. He can just barely see talented hands at their lover’s slender waist, exploring in her own way. Orochimaru may be showing Jiraiya a disaffected state, but the sage knows his partners might very well be playing a little game of their own. The muscles of his stomach clench as he realizes he just might get to have his cake and eat it too - that is, if he can even concentrate enough to watch them once Orochimaru truly gets started.

“And Hime? What’s she gonna do?”

“Exactly what you would be doing in my place, Ji-rai-ya,” Tsunade taunts, grinning.

“Our Hime-dear is going to watch and enjoy you right along with me, Raiya-kun. Don’t pretend that you don’t love the prospect,” Orochimaru runs the tip of his tongue along the points of fangs as he runs long fingers down Jiraiya’s abdomen. “A certain part of you is giving your feelings a true voice.”

The choking sound that Jiraiya utters is not the most dignified response, but it’s impossible to hold any form of composure when one exquisite snake Sannin wraps all five fingers around his cock and strokes, making his already rock-hard erection pulse even harder. 

“Oro, please…”

“I want you marked, Rai. I want the taste of you on my lips, and smeared on my skin as I lose myself in you, as you give Tsuna-chan whatever she wishes.”  Orochimaru runs a fingertip through the scarlet rivulets slowly trickling from the bite marks. 

“As we take what’s ours.”

His eyes gleam, catlike and direct as he touches bloodstained fingertips to his lower lip and licks them clean. It’s as if the heat of that tongue is on Jiraiya’s bare skin, and he shivers as his usual overactive capacity for fantasy sparks to life behind his eyes. There is only one thing left to do.

Poke the bear and see what happens next.

“Well what are you waiting for, lover? I’m not fighting you.”