[A/N:] I don't usually write in English, but somebody asked me to do a translation of this story, because she couldn't find more JuugoKimi stories in Internet. I did this translation some time ago, but totally forgot to put it on the Internet. Sorry about that. ^^
In the text there might appear some mistakes – I'm not a native English speaker and not a professional interpreter, so I'll be really glad, if you write me about every bugs you'd find.
Hope you like it, anyway. :)
Summary: In the night Juugo is sitting in his cell and thinks, unable to sleep. But then, he hears footsteps in the hallway - who might it be?
Warnings: angst, dim atmosphere, slash, sex, a little cursing
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Insomnia

The forest was silent and seemed completely lifeless – hot air irritated Juugo's nostrils with the smell of dust and already decomposing corpses. He tilted his head, leaning it on the bark of a tree – the sky which fragments were showing through branches was baby blue and completely clear.

Suddenly, the silence of this sultry morning was broken by the crack of twigs and then steady rustle of dry grass, approaching towards Juugo. In his field of vision there appeared a slender, fair-haired boy, aiming at him with something sharp in his hand. The boy neither attacked him with his "weapon", nor said a thing – he was just looking at Juugo, but what an annoying look was that! Juugo frowned as the boy stepped closer to him; sapless blades of grass stuck to a little faded bandages on his calves.

"Did you kill them all?", he asked stopping a few meters in front of Juugo. That something which was aimed at one of vital points on his torso looked a bit like a bone. A sharp one.

Juugo did not answer, but the boy also did not pressed him for respond. He scanned the remains of the massacre, and then once again looked at Juugo. In that moment Juugo could only say that eyes of this boy were the greenest green color he had ever seen in his life.

"Are you Bipolar Juugo?", he asked lowering his weapon.

"That's me", Juugo said and stood up after few seconds.

If his memory had not played a joke on Juugo, that was a moment when he met Kimimaro for the first time. On a hot summer day a couple years ago. Oddly enough, he did not remember how they actually came to the one of Orochimaru's research centers, neither their travel from that place near Iwagakure to the Land of Sound at all. What he remembered was that Kimimaro had on that day his hair pulled back in a ponytail, not tied on the sides of his handsome manly face as currently.

Huh, the memory, what a weird thing it is! Something like a really huge cupboard in whose drawers there are kept (ostensibly) completely unimportant recollections and these (which are seemingly more important) are buried so deeply that you cannot return to them without a feeling that you missed something. But Juugo believed that that kind of selection was not really that bad, since it was better to recall Kimimaro's erstwhile hairstyle rather than first meeting with Kabuto and Orochimaru. Not to mention all of their experiments and examinations…

Yeah, the memory is really weird thing – he thought, leaning his head on a cold wall behind him.

The room, he presently was in, was dark, not too big and had really impressive high ceiling. And equally impressive uncomfortable bed with thin as sixteen-sheets notebook mattress and pillows; the sheet was even thinner but he had never complained – it is a normal and common thing also outside Snake's hideout.
The moon hanged on the sky lighting as hundred-watts light-bulb, and his shine was forcing through slits between broken, blocked for good,Venetian blinds leaving bright stripes on the wall as well as Juugo's body. Somehow then, he realized that he was alone. Maybe that was fault of that silvery illumination of the moon or maybe this room – usually at evenings dark as never-ending night – appeared to be extraordinarily huge? Or it was nothing's fault and that thought just came into Juugo's head accidentally, then jammed in his mind not having any willingness to leave him voluntarily. Using force to exile this thought was probably also not good idea... Had anyone ever invented a working way to sweep out intrusive, uncontrollable thoughts? If so, he deserved Nobel Prize. Whatever, even two Nobel Prizes! Provided, of course, that they would want to award him.
Well… but probably no one invented that.

Juugo, wanting somehow to overcome the feeling of isolation, clutched at another thought. Kimimaro. His friend, his forever unfulfilled love, even though having sex happened to them not once and not twice, this did not work so simple. Kimimaro had never confessed to Juugo, and Juugo also had not prepared some kind of speech about his love. And if 'love' was too big word to use in this case, Juugo liked to name this overwhelming, not allowing to think clearly feeling as an incredibly strong attraction. Although this word also appeared to be out of place, however in different way, but he decided not to wade further in making up hell of a long, stupid definitions.

Ah yes, Kimimaro…

Juugo breathed heavily and began to pull at the edge of a blanket; he had nothing better to do. The blanket's decorative finish was tassely-thready (because unfortunately threads extremely enjoyed falling out of these tassels) and it was just ideal for pulling at. As much as Kimimaro was ideal for… errr… for example kissing and stuff… With a big emphasis on "stuff" and it's continuations.
But well, Kimimaro was probably not going to respond to Juugo's feelings in a way he wanted him to do. What worse, it was Kimimaro who was going to be the next Orochimaru's body. Tsk, why Kimimaro had such respect for that old bastard was a huge unsolved riddle to him.
And… they had not met each other *in this way* for a really long time. Besides, could one "I love you" change everything? Juugo was a skeptic and also a realist, but putting more emphasis on skeptic, so well – he doubted it could.

He heard footsteps echoing behind walls of his cell. Maybe hearing footsteps through such thick wall was impossible, but well… what for is that tiny slit between the door and the floor? Okay, it does not matter through what he actually heard the tramp, but it does matter that he perceived the sound and for his insomniac entertainment began to bet, who was that person who was walking down the cold, stone corridors of the hideout. At first he thought it was Kabuto, but when footsteps slowed down, then turned back and went behind his door once again, he changed his mind. And he was damn sure he knew who exactly was in the hallway.
Footsteps were loud enough for Juugo to hear them, but at the same time quiet enough not to wake up anyone but him. They seemed to be strangely unsure, however in the moonlight coming through the slits in blinds Juugo could not imagine that he would stroll behind the door marching in heavy army boots. It just was not right.

"Kimimaro?", he asked the space, outspread behind the reinforced steel door. He knew the answer. Of course, the space he had asked just a second ago also knew it and generously decided to share it with the world (or at least that part of the world, which included Juugo and his own cell):

"It's me."

"You shouldn't have gone out", Juugo snorted, " you've recently had an attack, what if-"

"I feel good now."

And then there was silence, admittedly short but pretty painful for Juugo. Loneliness struck him with even greater power. Kimimaro, how long they do not live together in one room? The other day this damn uncomfortable metal bed was placed next to Kimimaro's bed, and the boy was so close at hand, so really close, that he could embrace him. And if not embrace, at least touch.
The silence, which struck Juugo so badly, opening violently wrong memories drawer, broke clang of the lock. The draft blowing through the corridor made Juugo shiver, after all clothes used for sleeping were not appropriate for anything other than just sleeping.

In the chink between the wing and the door case there appeared the fair face of Kimimaro with well-known for Juugo red dots – Kaguya Clan's symbol – on the forehead and then the face came really close to Juugo's. He felt cold fingers pulling his chin and then Kimimaro's lips suddenly pressing to his.

Ah so… - flashed through his head, before he decided to turn off the thinking and focus himself on feeling. He could as well take up wondering "why" later, or even… never. He might overwork his brain cells, if he started that.

The door shut slamming loudly. Juugo's fingers without any hesitation slid into Kimimaro's pants and farther in the depths of fabric as hot, as his thighs touching his own legs. With the tip of tongue he forced his way to the hot cavern of Kimimaro's mouth and enjoyed discovering how wonderful it was to kiss him, to taste him, to touch him and throw him on the bed, which creaked shrilly on the stone floor.

They rolled on the blanket for a while, tossing completely unnecessary items of clothing one after another and wandering with their hands on half-naked bottoms and entirely naked torsos. Juugo's forefinger trailed the ribs perceptible under the skin, Kimimaro just threw his arms around his neck and pressed firmly his lips to Juugo's.

"Do it with me", groaned Kimimaro. Juugo felt his heart struggling, locked in the cage of his ribs, almost as it wanted to force it's escape. For Juugo Kimimaro appeared to be even more determined than Juugo was himself; the fair-haired pulled his hand and Juugo's finger into his mouth. He felt his tongue and his teeth tickle his skin.

What to say… Juugo was not prepared for things going this way, so had nothing moisturizing at hand, but there was saliva.
Saliva…
Kimimaro bit lightly the tip of his finger and thin, transparent thread shone in the moonlight. He licked his skin with his wet tongue from the pit between bare shoulder and collarbone up to the spot where the neck connects to the jaw. And then his tongue went down, through the stomach and even lower next to hip bones, until it…

"Ah!", screamed Kimimaro, when Juugo's dampened fingers slid into him. But almost immediately this scream changed into voice, he could not classify – something between moan and purr, when his trailed his tongue from the base up to the top of Kimimaro's penis.

"Juugo." Kimimaro dug his nails into partner's arm. "Now… I want it now… Fuck me."

"All right", Juugo agreed and landed with kiss on the corner of his lips. "Turn."

After that, all what Juugo was seeing was just nicely shaped back with one dark beauty spot on the shoulder blade and the reddish welts on his buttocks formed from a little too strong squeeze. In that moment they kind of melted into one – Kimimaro could become Juugo for a while, and Juugo Kimimaro. Become one, trembling with every thrust organism.

Moans and sighs were resounding from the walls and Juugo thought that he would come in a little while, immersed in the tight, hot inside of Kimimaro. And then all what he saw, what heard, what he felt, drowned in the overwhelming cry illumined by the moonlight leaching through the blinds.

They lied down together on the bedclothes; the blanket presented not that little whitish stain in the middle, but Juugo decided that he would worry about such trivial things later. He brushed away Kimimaro's hair falling on his shoulder and pressed his lips to the fair skin – the place under the influence of suction became red, looking unlikely to return to its previous color. Kimimaro rubbed his face with his hand, sighed once or twice and finally stood up. Juugo was looking at him dress – methodically and slowly – at him wear his sandals and grab the door handle.

"You're going now?", he ask surprised and also stood up, clinging to Kimimaro's back. Now, when he already had him, when he could finally have him, he just turns his back on him and wants to leave. Kimimaro almost already escaped, almost eluded from Juugo's embrace, his lips shortly brushed Juugo's, the hand shortly touched his neck, but Kimimaro was already so far. So far one meter ahead of him.

"I was given a mission", began Kimimaro, and Juugo already knew that he did not want to hear it. That the serious tone and avoiding green eyes witnessed about something he would never want to know. "I'm going to bring Uchiha Sasuke, he'll be the new body for Orochimaru, as my substitution. He'll be my reincarnation, the only person suitable for this purpose."

"You want" Juugo's breath mortified in his lungs "to sacrifice yourself?"

"If I have to", he said evasively, and Juugo could contact in normal way already no more. The thoughts; the whole swarm, half of horde and some tenths of legion of thoughts trundled with the shadow on Juugo's face.

You say thank you for everything Juugo you say farewell see you later why farewell why not good bye why Sasuke why don't I see you now Kimimaro why do I feel like half of me without you I'm not complete like a mug without a handle like a book without words like a window without glass like a rose without thorns

The handle of the door clicked, as silently as an autumn leaf falls from a tree, and Juugo, pinched by shock, felt that he is more alone than he had felt before. So alone that he had never been before, never. This impression was intensified by creased sheets with already drying up stain and by that that the door and the corridor outspread behind it was certainly empty. Empty, empty, empty! So damn, tragically, hopelessly EMPTY!

Idon'thearyounow

The majestic, unbroken silence reigned in the room, only behind the window, in the near bushes something, maybe a cat, was trying to put into effect their hunt for small, squeling rodent. And this something succeeded, what reflected some other noises. And Juugo stood still in the middle of the room and was looking at closed door with grey-white pattern of light forcing through Venetian blinds.

Sasuke Uchiha… Why Kimimaro was to sacrifice for some kid? Why Orochimaru chose Kimimaro for this mission at all? He was ill and that reptile surely knew about it. Juugo would be really surprised, if he had not know. But still… why?
And why did he come? Why could not he just go away, not saying a thing, being quiet as a mouse? Why did he come and let Juugo fuck him? Was that a farewell gift?
Juugo frowned his lips.
A fa-re-well gift, it sounds awfully pathetic. Damn it. At this moment, he would rather sit on his bed as he did before and deliberate about various insomniac bullshit...

He slammed his fist at the wall near the door case; the remains of questionable quality plaster sprinkled onto the floor, getting Juugo's shirt dusty. But there was something else that got dusty, too – it was just lying on the floor and gave the impression that it was left accidentally. Because the kunai pouch had never belonged to Juugo and the thought, that it somehow materialized in his cell was not really smart. He lifted it up and moved his fingers over the rough, dark fabric.

He heard unexpectedly a knock on the door, and just second after the door opened.

"Juugo, I forgot to take-"

But Kimimaro did not finish. Juugo sprung out on him and squeezed him so tightly that he almost broke his ribs.

"Don't go", said Juugo and somewhere deep inside of him he decided that he will never let slip Kimimaro out of his hands again. And if Kimimaro would not like it, well… he would have to learn how to live with it.

"Don't go, don't go. Stay, I love you."

And Juugo gave him such kiss he thought it can change every damn thing on the earth. And if things like that did not exist, they will appear. They definitely will – there is no other way.

end.