cupping sakumo's cheeks, thumbs smoothing over his lips, curious little sound building low in his throat. ' your teeth are different from kakashi's. his mother? ' / orochimaru.
* unprompted. / @bredfaith !
orochimaru’s hands are cold and feel weirdly smooth against his skin , feels it touch on the sump of a few wrinkles as he notices a gentle press on his upper lips (and he has always said orochimaru’s eyes were too hypnotizing to pull away from) , even as his eyes begin to crinkle with a smile. ‟ you’re as observant as always , lovely. ” sometimes he asks himself if orochimaru is bothered by the fact that kakashi was his late wife’s child (but in this moment , so irresistibly close , he almost forgets) : a teasing sound as he smacks his lips against the finger intruding on the edge of his mouth while using the opportunity to look orochimaru over (and he’s delighted to find that he is still as beautiful as he was the before).
a small laugh escapes him as he steps closer , waits for the other to back out a bit (as he used to at least) , but makes no other attempt to touch him beyond where his palm is appropriately guiding orochimaru’s waist. ‟ she was an inuzuka , the teeth are a trademark amongst them … he used to chew through brand - new pacifiers in a single day and it drove me up the wall at times. ” it’s still nice to have a small reminder of her existence in his life (and instead of guilt , it finally fills him with a sappy touch of nostalgia). orochimaru’s hand hadn’t moved much in the time he had spoken and he raises a testy eyebrow. ‟ but of course you can touch mine anytime you would like as well lovely , even if they might not be as interesting from a scientific point of view. ”