Yeah, I had to play around with this chap. Still not too satisfied.
A little favour, before you begin: there is no time-skip between last chapter and this one. It wouldn't hurt to to re-read the last part of chapter 5. Y'know, to get in the mood.
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He held him, soothing his tensions, melting his carcass of cold and emptiness. Itachi meekly leaned his head against Sasori's chest, welcoming the disarming embrace. They stayed like that for grateful minutes.
Sasori hugged him closer, kissing him noiselessly on the top of the head. Itachi hugged him desperately back, the calmness of the moment not quite reaching him, for he felt bound too tightly in his feelings to watch them leave. "Shh," Sasori chided, bringing gentle fingers to his shaking shoulders, stilling them. "It's okay, shh," he whispered again into his hair. Itachi swallowed, first at how surprisingly secure he felt in Sasori's arms, second in a last desperate attempt to keep his true emotions bottled in, finally letting them loose in painful sobs.
"S-S-Sas-sori," he hiccuped, trying in vain to regrasp his self-control.
"Quiet," Sasori whispered scoldingly, finger lain accross his lips. Itachi looked up. The warm glow of the reading lamp on the bedside table lit Sasori's eyes with tiny red flames, as they twinkled.
"Sasori," he repeated, loudly in his mind, as tears fell all over again, deep into his lover's chest. He didn't stop when he felt Sasori pull him up accross him, nor did he slow when he felt their hip bones meet. He probably looked hideous, and he was probably weighing uncomfortably accross Sasori's body, but it was a particular feeling, having all of the emotion sucked out of him, and he couldn't help it. Sasori's curled fingers brushed against his cheeks. "Feeling better?" he asked, running a thumb along his jaw, strung with tears that fell, still. He shifted to the side, trying to get Itachi's arms out from under him, aided in the task once Itachi realised what he was doing. He gave Sasori a sheepish smile as an apology, chin resting on his chest.
"You okay now?" Sasori asked in a whisper.
Itachi stayed quiet and rested his cheek on Sasori's chest.
You confuse me.
Sasori smiled down at him.
"You're fine, Itachi. Don't look so worried like that."
Now I don't know what to feel anymore.
He felt Sasori sigh under him.
Will you hurt me?
"...Sasori," he choked.
Do you promise?
"What's wrong? Tell me, Itachi," he said a little shortly.
I'm trying so hard...
Will you appreciate it?
I love you...
I don't care.
"Sasori...about...what I said a few days ago-"
"You said a lot of things, a few days ago."
Itachi winced at the impatience in his voice.
"I mean...when I said that I wasn't ready..."
He looked up at Sasori. His eyes shone so brilliantly, in this light. His brow fretted, in thought. Itachi wondered if he understood what he couldn't say.
"Itachi..." he looked down at him and placed a warm finger under his chin. Itachi climbed up him obligingly. "Itachi..." he whispered again, as he brought their lips together, gently.
Itachi's eyes widened before they closed, as did Sasori's.
I love you.
This is me saying I love you.
Deidara closed the tap faucet with a sigh, resolutely placing his toothbrush beside the sink.
So many things ran through his head.
Things he wanted to erase.
Things he wanted to change.
Things he wanted to remember.
Things he wanted to hold on to forever.
He looked at his reflection in the mirror.
Funny, isn't it, how now that you're gone, I'm beginning to agree with the things you said.
He smiled humourlessly at himself.
Look at you, all sad that he's gone. All alone. Was he everything to you? Because there's so little left of you, now.
The shining in his single eye surprised him, and he fell back onto the rim of the bathtub, clutching it.
Look at you, crying all alone.
Wet heat met his fingers when he reached for his face. He tried to stop himself, tried to be strong, tried to tell himself that no, no, he didn't need him to live, to be happy. He could survive by himself. He could. He didn't need that shoulder under his head, or that warm voice whispering.
Look at you, why are you crying when you've won?
He laughed. He was losing it. He laughed outright, looking up at himself again.
Look at me, Sasori. Look, I've won. The two artists, together. A beautiful picture, no? Well guess what?
It was fleeting.
It's gone, now.
But it was beautiful.
I've told you before.
Art is the beauty of a fleeting moment.
I told you. I won.
He hated himself. He buried his face in his hands again. How could he-?
You're the winner, Sasori no Danna.
Art must be saved for all of eternity.
Angry sobs ripped from his chest.
Saved for that one...
Sweat poured down Itachi's burning cheeks.
"Un, uun, Saa-asori, waa-aait-"
"Shh, there's nothing to worry about."
"Just tell me when it hurts, okay? I don't want you to hate me later."
"...Saa-ssori..." he whispered sharply.
Kisses were flying down his chest, chills ran up his spine, and dizziness buzzed in the corners of his eyes. He couldn't possibly...
He gulped as he reached down and put a hand under Sasori's jaw. This was risky. Sasori could get angry. But instead, he was worried. The redhead looked up in confusion.
Itachi pulled him up higher, forcing him to crawl up so that they were face to face, and hip to hip.
Sasori interrupted him by stroking his sweaty cheek. "Calm down, Itachi. We'll take this nice and easy, if you want. You can-"
Itachi smiled weakly, he felt like he was letting him down. With a hand on either side of his face, Itachi pulled himself up, and cut off his next word with a kiss.
Say my name again. Kiss me back.
I love you so much...
Sasori pushed him back against the bed, still kissing him, never letting go. Itachi sighed in relief, until Sasori went lower. His breath hitched a little, but he closed his eyes, trusting him. Anything instead of disappointing him.
The man smiled.
"You're gonna be fine," he whispered into him.
Itachi left a hand on the back of Sasori's head, caressing his hair gently, a contrastingly quiet touch to the movements Sasori made underneath. He felt his nerves come alive again, with every new feeling on his skin.
He felt him.
"Saso...ri...haah...haah," he panted.
Sasori looked up, and their eyes met.
I love you...
Hold on tight...
Their gazes held, as Sasori leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his neck.
Don't hurt me...
"Ready?" Sasori asked quietly.
Itachi swallowed, but nodded.
He patted his thigh, letting his fingers linger for a bit against his nervous twitching.
"We'll count, okay?"
"From five, ready?"
"...ready..." he murmured, heart racing.
"Five," he said softly.
He stroked him.
He didn't understand. He didn't understand how something so gentle could pain him so much.
He grabbed onto his shoulders, nails sinking into flesh.
Sasori looked deep into his eyes, seeing the fear and uncertaintly flicker under the love, the need, the raw feelings that were so painful to wear in the open. Itachi nodded, body letting loose for him.
"...three," he whispered.
Itachi's eyes clamped shut.
Just a little...more...
"...two..." a little more gruffly.
Inside. Deep inside.
Itachi held on to whatever he could.
So very, very, close.
He couldn't breathe anymore.
Sasori didn't whisper "One."
His eyes rolled back into his head, blinded senseless by a sharp, white light.
Oh, how he screamed, as he held on to Sasori.
He wanted to stay like that forever, but at the same time wished he'd never even broken the surface of that sensation.
He screamed, tears pouring down his face.
Bear it, he had to bear it.
For nothing, that now made sense.
He sobbed, he sobbed wildly into what was left of the night.