Orochimaru always calls Kabuto "boy."

He supposes that his medic might find it a bit of a demeaning, if not a downright embarrassing, little moniker, but if he does, he doesn't show it, good at hiding things as he is. Or perhaps he's just so used to it that he doesn't think twice about it. Orochimaru doesn't either, not usually, but sometimes when he stops and considers why exactly he addresses Kabuto as such, he is disturbed by what his self-psychoanalysis reveals.

Usually, it is used in affection, often when he needs something. Kabuto, my boy, fetch me that scroll. My boy, I need for you to pay a visit to Kusagakure for me. Then there is the occasional threat, when his temper has been roused for whatever reason. You'd better have a good reason for the tardiness of this report, boy.

Always, there is subtle affirmation of his superiority in the way he addresses Kabuto. A reminder of who exactly it is who is older, who is of higher rank, who possesses more prestigious titles. Who is in charge. But he has to wonder…who is it exactly, of the two of them, who requires such a reminder?

Certainly, Kabuto has that irritating little habit of forgetting his place from time to time. A smirk that has no place being on his smug features, a snide comment that no one else in the village would dare make to the Sannin out of fear for their life, an independent act that disregards, or even defies, orders. Yes, Kabuto is bold, perhaps a little too much so on occasion. But overall, he knows his place as servant, and his loyalty has never wavered once. Whatever he does, however much it might get on Orochimaru's nerves every once in a while, is done for the older man's best interests.

So really, it isn't Kabuto who needs the reminder at all. It's Orochimaru himself.

He calls Kabuto "boy" because that is quite simply not what Kabuto is at all. The spy is sharp and keen and responsible and dry-humored and carries himself in the manner of someone at least Orochimaru's age as opposed to someone not yet twenty-five. He always manages to keep up with his master, the elder and the genius, and sometimes Orochimaru suspects he is in fact one step ahead of him. Kabuto's intellect surpasses that of anyone else Orochimaru has ever known, and that's a compliment that he would never dare vocalize lest it go to his head. The last thing the medic needs is an ego boost.

But it's not just Kabuto's intellect that is decidedly not childlike, oh no. Orochimaru knew going in that his new protégé would not stay a gangly, awkward teenager forever, and his expectations were not contradicted when Kabuto started filling his clothes with broad shoulders and firm muscles (which were admittedly mostly a product of enhancement drugs and not physical exertion, but that didn't make them any less easy on the eyes). No, it isn't a boy's body. Kabuto has long since grown out of that particular stage of his life, which the Sannin might find sentimental if he were one for sentiment or not distracted by that body in the first place.

It's not a boy that he beds. Kabuto is not timid and he is not exactly compliant, though there's no denying that at first he was rather gawky, but he is a fast learner and grew out of that too. Boys don't make demands or challenge those who solicit them, and Kabuto does both when he's in the mood.

As he is one particularly impassioned night in Orochimaru's chambers.

"A-aah, Orochimaru-sama," he says in that breathless voice of his that only his master can elicit, nails digging into the smooth skin of an alabaster back as Orochimaru's hips continue their thrusting at a painfully slow pace. His lips brush against the shell of the older man's ear. "Harder, nn…"

Orochimaru leans down as he indulges his precious medic with a rough, fast movement that draws out a throaty moan, and he whispers, "Such an impatient boy," before kissing the man he will never acknowledge outright as his equal.