This is essentially Heat from Sasori's POV.
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
The Other Side
Sasori put down the screwdriver and Hiruko's tail, inwardly cursing. He was going to need the number seven lubricant for this. It was just typical that he hadn't brought it with him. 'Blasted beach. I swear, that will be the last time I ever co-operate with that pointless charade…'
Continuing to mentally grouse along this thread, Sasori slowly walked all the sodding way from the more-secluded cave where he had been working, through the system of caverns that made up the Akatsuki Lair, to the room he shared with his partner Deidara and where he kept most of his puppet equipment. Reaching it, he absently twisted the doorknob and entered the room as quietly as any ninja of his level. He closed the door behind him, still lost in his grumbling and irritation, and started for his cupboard.
Said Sasori's mind, as he was quite spectacularly distracted from his internal rant.
He had seen Deidara naked before of course, due to the fact they were forced to share a room and his fellow artist was not in the least bit shy about his body. In fact Sasori would go so far as to say Deidara positively flaunted his nudity sometimes.
But he hadn't, as far as he knew (and he was fairly sure he would remember such a thing), seen his partner both completely naked and obviously masturbating.
The blond was hot.
Needy, wanton, filthy and obscenely gorgeous.
It was quite possibly the most erotic thing the puppet master had ever seen. An absolute work of art. He could have drooled.
'Wait. When did I start thinking like that?'
Deidara hadn't reacted to his partner's presence at all, apparently too occupied to notice (or uncaring of the fact) that he now had an audience. Frozen in place, Sasori could do nothing but stare. He couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but watch the incredibly sexy show his younger partner was unwittingly putting on. Had he still had the necessary body parts he would undoubtedly have had trouble breathing.
Until Deidara looked straight at him.
The two criminals faced each other in shock, neither one moving or speaking. Sasori was the first to regain his composure. Wordlessly, he crossed to his cupboard, took out the jar of lubricant he had originally come in for and left the room.
Back in the cave where he had been working, Sasori threw down his screwdriver in disgust. It was useless. He couldn't concentrate anymore. His head was full of infuriating, lascivious thoughts.
Not that he'd ever let on to Deidara of course. That would be like admitting the blond's ridiculous view of what constituted art was correct or some such nonsense. Sasori would sooner travel the Hidden Villages putting on free puppet shows for children than ever give the slightest hint as to what had been going through his mind while he stood watching his partner.