10

The Dadaist: an artist who is obsessed with the idea that life has no purpose.

His lips were pressed into a deadpan expression. His face easily matched, carved as if from the finest of marble. The cold stare of his autumn brown eyes were fixed at the figure standing before him, and Deidara swore that the freezing stare of his partner's eyes would soon bring a sheet of ice onto his barely quivering shoulders. He was certainly shivering as if he were submerged in the depths of a winter storm.

He was used to the amber brown daggers of his partner, but when Sasori got angry, it was the silent stares that drilled more holes in his heart rather than when his partner actually spoke.

It was like a silent staring contest: Sasori's disappointed gaze tracing painful, white-hot shards into the lone, bottomless depths of Deidara's isolated ocean blue eye. Deidara knew through his vast experiences that Sasori found other's pain to be his pure pleasure, so he had taught himself well enough to keep his returning glances just as cold and emotionless, if not respectful to the most extent. It was a mental challenge for him, but mainly hurt his heart rather than his pride to see the object of his affection treat him so cruelly.

His iris was quivering from behind the loose bangs that had fallen astray from the blonde river flowing down his face. His scope, however, remained motionless, zooming in on Sasori's expression to scavenge for any sign of pity on the merciless mask Sasori so-often wore.

Deidara's name was repeated after a considerable amount of silence. Sasori sounded impatient, but his voice was doused with exhaustion. This meant Deidara would be spared from any painful bruises this time around; his cheeks were already scathed from the back of Sasori's hand.

"You brat! Do you realize what you almost caused the Akatsuki?! You almost got us killed!" Sasori's voice was icy and slick with poison, but it wasn't the sound of Sasori's voice that terrified him the most, it was the hand that was looming over the redhead's shoulder, threatening a stinging pain to his cheek.

Sasori's fingers curled against his palm, forming a tight fist. Deidara felt tears creep up from behind his eye – was he going to hit him? He watched, afraid as his partner's fingers relaxed their grip and fell against his thigh. But his voice still retaliated against Deidara's surfacing relief. "Another foolish" – he added extra emphasis to 'foolish', making Deidara flinch – "mistake like that, and your right eye will join its partner on my shelf."

The blonde's eyes fell upon the covered jar sitting proudly on the Puppet Master's dresser. The arsonist released a whimper as a tear jerked down his cheek. He had to convince Sasori otherwise.

"…B-but it w-was an accident, u-un…!" – That wasn't going to help. Plus, he had lost his rough composure, and switched right to begging. How weak.

Deidara found himself staring at Sasori's back as the Puppet Master's gaze retreated to his desk. "…Ninjas do not make mistakes. Everything must be perfectly planned. Accidents can cause the lives of you, your partner, and the mission."

This was obviously the only amount of concern Deidara would ever receive from his Partner. His bottom lip was quivering, his protestation surfacing in his mind like a bubble. Without thinking, the bubble burst and his words ripped out of his vocals. "I said it was an accident, un! Ninjas are human—" Sasori flinched at the separation of himself and humanity "—Humans make mistakes! I'm not perfect enough to live up to your standards—!" but he was silenced with a noise that could put thunder to shame. He leaped back, finding the loud noise to be coming from Sasori's fist colliding with the stone wall. The vibration caused a number of vials and beakers to crash to the concrete floor, spilling their contents at Deidara's feet.

"No more excuses! The next time I hear you speak, I'm tying your delicate little windpipe into a knot!" Deidara swallowed, his hand darting to cover his exposed throat at the sound of the seriousness in his partner's voice. He found even breathing difficult at this point. But Sasori continued, his voice more calmed now that his outburst had released his fury.

"…Leave… get out of my room unless you have something to say that's worth my time."

Deidara opened his mouth to speak, but he found his voice dry; leftover from Sasori's previous threat. It took him some time to find his voice, but all he managed was: "…..I-I…."

Sasori slowly turned to him, his eyes locked with Deidara's, drowning in the liquid pools of his partner's fresh tears,

The floodgates burst and the vulnerability surfaced. His cheeks were invaded by a sea of pink, but it was too dark for Sasori to notice anything but the moon's reflection in his flow of tears. Sasori opened his mouth to press Deidara further, but the only reply he got was Deidara's quickly retreating figure and the isolation behind his brutally slammed door.

Deidara threw himself onto the floor, lying in a heap of tears and devastation. His desperate whimpers clung to the wall and haunted him like a ghost. Each inhale mocking him as if they were laughing at his pain. He halted his whimpers in attempt to speak, but each sharp inhale of breath increased the number of tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Why does he have to treat me like dirt?!" be begged, Sasori's expression fresh in his memory. He could just picture Sasori standing over him, laughing at his pitiful state and mocking him for his weak heart.

Yea, coming from someone who doesn't have a heart?! "Stupid Danna! I hate him! I hate him so much…!!"

He froze. His heart was beating rhythmically with the tempo of his breathing. He allowed his hair to fall over his face, like a curtain to protect him from the pain coursing his heart. "….N-no…" he whispered, "…I love him…"

He felt a great weight lift off of his chest at the admittance of these words, but the arrow in his heart only dug further at the horrible, agonizing realization that he would never be loved back by someone so cruel, yet tantalizingly beautiful… and so far out of his reach. He pushed himself off of the floor, his palm mouths weakly licking away the moisture spared on his cheeks.

Sasori would kill him without hesitation if Deidara ever grew foolish enough to tell him. He already treated his partner like the dirt beneath his feet, admitting something like that would only humiliate him even more in Sasori's eyes. What could be worse than dirt? He would rather have Sasori beat on him and treat him so severely then be rejected and cast away by the person he wanted to be closest to.

Sasori would probably never speak to him again and the abuse was already painful enough. He would take the back of Sasori's hand over his cold shoulder any day. The malice – the heartache -- was always worth it so long as he could be near him. When Deidara was away from his partner, he felt like he was drowning.

By the time he snapped back into reality, he found himself standing at Sasori's door. His shaking hand clumsily reached forward to knock on its surface. "I have to do this!" But he was shocked to find it swing open before he even so much as laid a hand on it. Sure enough, Sasori was standing there, his eyes watching Deidara's movements like a hawk would its prey.

"…I sensed your chakra." He said as-a-matter-of-factly. His voice was emotionless, as it usually was.

Though Sasori would never lose enough pride to admit any sense of fear, Deidara could easily dissect everything wrong in him: the unchanging curve of his lips fractured downward into a slight frown, the ice melting into tears, or even by gestures in his hands or how close his arms were to his body. Itachi always told Deidara that Sasori was very different before Deidara had met him. The raven-haired ninja always talked about Orochimaru. Whenever Deidara had asked, Sasori would always grow angry and tell him to drop the subject immediately. It was obvious that Sasori didn't like talking about him, but wasn't so obvious was what had happened between the two of them that made the subject so pushy.

Itachi never answered.

The problem with Sasori resided in his heart. He was uncomfortable around any emotion he was unfamiliar with; which would explain why he would most-likely reject Deidara if he were to admit his true feelings. The one he had the most trouble with was fear. He often substituted fear with anger or even violence if it came to it. Deidara was always in the way when those moments came to be. The other members seemed to have gotten used to it.

The look Sasori was giving him didn't help with the pace of his heartbeat. "…Come to do damage to anything else?" Sasori asked with a sarcastic tone in his voice. That didn't help either. Deidara shook his head, deciding not to remind his partner that it was him who knocked the vials onto the floor and punched a hole in the wall. Deidara looked down, allowing his hair to fall over his face.

"…No, Sasori no Danna…" he whispered. Sasori arched an eyebrow at the softness and remorse in his partner's voice. His cheeks were red with tear-stain, but there was something else there too. The Puppeteer blinked, his eye catching a single tear sliding down his partner's rosy, porcelain cheeks. It took all of his willpower not to reach out and brush the tears away. He mentally slapped himself for the thought and recoiled a few steps back away. 'You will resist temptation…!' he thought, his eyes falling to the floor to keep the look on Deidara's face from changing his thoughts. 'You'll have to be more cruel to him…" he mused.

Deidara's hand reached forward as if he were beckoning Sasori's closeness. Sasori only pulled back a bit more at this, but Deidara's hand made a flowing curve to rest against his chest; exactly where his heart should be. He made a series of deep breaths as if he were about to dive into a pool of ice water.

"…I hope this is important enough to keep me waiting like this…" Sasori snapped, causing a shiver up Deidara's spine.

"….Danna, I-I…" but he stopped, realizing that Sasori had his back to him again. He was organizing his poisons absentmindedly by what organs they affected the most, obviously due to his impatience. He would be more than impatient after this. Deidara bit his lip. "….I-I… love you….!" he blurted, jumping back at the sound of crashing glass.

Sasori had his shaking fingers curled around where there used to be a vial of poison. The shards were sticking in his hand; they should've drawn blood and the poison should've instantly killed him if he were human. His eyes were wide, his throat dry, without any words or any movement of disapproval. He was frozen, but Deidara still did not stop.

"…I've always loved you…" he seemed to have gotten more comfortable with his words now that his heart could speak freely. They were flowing from his mouth like a stream, but it impacted Sasori more like a tidal wave. Sasori turned to his partner. Deidara saw the look in the redhead's eyes and instantly regretted what he had said. The fear had returned. He pulled his arms close to his body, expecting to be hit; his stomach was churning in expectations of soon meeting the most painful of poisons; he swallowed hard, his exposed throat awaiting the fatal grip of Sasori's cold, clammy fingers.

Sasori was advancing on him.

A shiver crawled up his spine just as he heard a loud noise, but accompanied by no pain. When his eye had opened, he was expecting to see Sasori's raised hand, but he could no longer see his Danna. After further observation of his surroundings, he found the loud noise to have been the door upon Sasori's departure. He had never felt so hurt and lonely in his entire life.

His hands were on the opposite shoulder, pulling himself into a tight embrace to keep from his uncontrollable trembling. He fell to his knees and hunched over the floor, too heartbroken to even cry. Instead, heaving dry sobs.

The puppet master stumbled against the opposite hallway wall with his hand cupped over his gaping mouth. He swore if he had a stomach, he would be sick enough to throw up. Not sick from disgust, sick with shock and worry. His mind was clouded with confusion. Why did he have to chose now of all times to make such a confession?

'He should hate you after how you've been treating him!' a voice in the back of his clouded mind burst through all the confusion. 'But he loves you, he even said so! And you stormed out on him after he handed his heart to you on a silver platter? You're breaking his heart!' a second voice snapped, much louder than the first. Sasori cringed at the way he used 'Silver Platter", like Deidara was a dish he could simply send back to the kitchen. Something in his mind laughed at this, 'Him? Love something like you? There's no way in hell – you're a puppet! Deidara's a human.'

Sasori flinched at his thoughts, pushing them away. He could imagine how Deidara is feeling right now; his figure bent over his floor, his heart breaking under the torment of Sasori's rejection. Sasori, too, feared rejection from his partner. His cruelty was only a mask to keep his heart from getting too close to him. Deidara could never love someone like him. He wasn't… human.

There was only one way to find out.

He pushed the door open, too afraid to look at his abandoned partner. Yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sobbing figure at his feet.

Deidara seemed to notice his presence immediately. He didn't care anymore about how pathetic Sasori would think he is or how weak and defenseless he is. "….If y-you're going to kill m-me…. Make it quick, u-un…." He cried, too frightened to raise his eyes.

"….Deidara…." His voice was laced with liquid velvet. Sasori crouched down on his knees to meet Deidara's eye-level. The blonde still refused to look up. His voice was too soft; it was probably the voice he uses against his victims before he killed them…

He whimpered as a finger curled under his chin. Deidara's eyes locked with his partners, which were filled with some unknown, raw emotion he had only pictured on Sasori's face in his dreams. He felt Sasori's finger touch the corner of his eye, trapping the tear the back of Deidara's hand had missed.

"You can stop me at any time…" Sasori whispered. Deidara whimpered; What the hell does that mean?

He felt a burning sensation as he felt Sasori's sweet breath against his lips. He closed his eyes and inhaled the delicious scent left on Sasori's forbidden lips. Deidara tried to keep from releasing a moan, but it still seeped out through the back of his vocals. His breathing left such a audible sensation in his heart, his eye filling with a million questions.

There was a sense of mistrust between the two. Sasori, though his lips were close enough to Deidara's to take him, kept his weight shifted away from Deidara in case of refusal. And Deidara still had his arms securely wrapped around himself, very much afraid of his partner, still. Someone had to go first.

The puppeteer sighed and dove in.

It wasn't long before Deidara found himself tasting the forbidden fruit. Sasori closed the gap between them, leaving an indescribable feeling as his body froze from the puppeteer's seductive charm. His suppressed emotions released out through his mouth as his lips closed around the smaller ones of the sculptor. His tongue flicked out without a second thought and quickly claimed the uncharted architecture of the blonde's mouth. Deidara moaned and slipped his arms around Sasori's neck, the tongues of his palm mouth eagerly tasting the alluring tangy, wooden flesh he had admired from afar for too long. The feeling was so beyond description, Deidara was overwhelmed with the need to faint.

He quickly chased Sasori's tongue back into the redhead's mouth, attacking it with hungry movements, hungry for the tantalizing taste left over in his mouth. He was horribly addicted, and he wanted more -- A lot more.

He was overshadowed quickly by Sasori's overpowering tongue, leaving the sculptor submissive to his partner's allure. He backed down, surrendering once more through an obedient whimper playing in his throat.

They broke apart, both of them panting shaking, deep draws of breath. Deidara's cheeks were flooded with blush, his blue eye sparkling in the moonlight pouring through the window. Sasori's eyes were much calmer now; the anger and frustration seemed to have been replaced with passion and lust, and a thirst for his partner. The small taste left in his mouth was still very unsatisfying.

Deidara couldn't find the will to look into Sasori's eyes; he was embarrassed of his vulnerability. Sasori seemed to be more practiced than he was. But most of him wanted so badly to swept away and taken by his Danna.

As if Sasori had heard his thoughts, he soon found himself lifted off the floor and scooped up into Sasori's arms. He had no idea Sasori was this strong, to be able to carry Deidara like he was nothing but air. After a few seconds of suspension, he was tossed onto the airy mattress that was Sasori's bed. The puppeteer followed, his hips adjacent to his partners and his lips hovering a taunting few millimeters away from his. He moaned quietly, craving another one of is addicting kisses. He begged Sasori to come closer, but he did not come. Deidara sensed that something was wrong. A needle shot through his heart at the thought of Sasori leaving him now. He couldn't…! Not like this…

A hand flowed through Deidara's hair like the finest silk. Deidara acknowledged this gesture with a smile, allowing his head to fall back into the lumpy pillow holding up his neck. The hand departed after pulling his Iwa forehead protector loose and getting away with the tie holding up his thick, frosty gold hair. His hair scattered onto the pillow, flowing over it like a waterfall. The first button was pulled apart on his cloak and Sasori was quick to bury his face in the sculptor's warm, milky skin and gnaw on the first patch of bare skin lips could find. Deidara fell back further as Sasori pressed his weight against him to dig his teeth into the blonde's flesh. He hissed in pain as Sasori's teeth scraped across the small red mark he had created on his neck. His skin was raw and unusually smooth, making it a perfect target for another hicky.

He moved southward and took another patch of skin into his mouth, sucking lightly on the sweet flesh and teasing it with his tongue. Deidara's painful whimpers seeped into pleasurable moans. The redhead pulled away, obviously focusing on a new task.

Deidara's eyes fell open as Sasori's cold fingers began pulling remaining the buttons loose on his cloak. He wanted so badly to feel Sasori's skin against his chest, but his fishnet undershirt remained their only barrier.

Sasori was slow on removing his clothes. He treated Deidara carefully, like a fine, porcelain doll that would break if tampered with the wrong way. Deidara wasn't a puppet; he couldn't be fixed if broken. But Sasori wasn't entirely puppet, either. Deidara wasn't used to Sasori treating him this way, so the soft touches were bliss, but he was beginning to grow impatient with how delicately he was being treated.

Sasori bent down to take advantage of Deidara's exposed skin. Deidara shifted his hair over the mouth on his chest in a quick movement, desperate to keep him from finding out. His worry was replaced with a spike of pleasure as he felt Sasori's warm tongue flick over his nipple. He felt his back arch off of the bed, but Sasori didn't quit, gnawing at it and swirling his tongue over the erect nub. Deidara moaned and pressed his head against the pillow until he felt the weight lift from him. He opened his eyes to find Sasori looming over him again. He was still wearing his robe.

He reached up for the buttons on Sasori's cloak just as he was free of all of his top layers, but by the time he had started the third button, his hand was trapped under Sasori's forceful grasp. The arsonist tried to pull away, but Sasori refused to let go. Finally, his grip subdued. Deidara pulled his hand back, allowing Sasori to finish the rest of the buttons himself.

The cloak fell away over his sculpted shoulders and Deidara's eye widened with alarm – exactly what Sasori was afraid of. The blue eye burned into the red container on Sasori's chest, chasing a glance over the Puppeteer's shoulders to catch a glimpse of the bladed wings fanning open, their metallic luster reflecting the moonlight in his eye. Sasori raised his hand – a gesture Deidara was more afraid of, causing him to flinch – but the hand never reached for him, instead reached behind his back and released the joint connecting the bladed wings to his lower back. They fell to the floor, along with the black scroll holster that safely guarded his puppets. There was that same emotionless look in Sasori's eyes. Deidara couldn't keep his gaze off of him; the way his emotion can change so quickly.

The redhead moved his hands and stationed them on either side of Deidara's head, providing better leverage for him to press his lips against the blonde's tender forehead. Deidara's tension eased at the realization that his Danna had returned. He tossed his arms around Sasori's now slender back. Sasori moved his lips down to capture Deidara's once more. Deidara's eyes fell closed as he melted into the kiss. This one seemed calmer, more like the Puppeteer was begging Deidara not to be afraid of him. Then again, the sculptor hadn't even shared his secret.

Deidara pulled away, assuring that he had his partner's attention before he shifted his hair away from his chest. His chest mouth quivered under the painful bindings, begging for the release that will never come. Sasori had no reason to reject him for this, right? '…as if having mouths on your hands weren't freaky enough, now he knows you have this…' Deidara thought, waiting for Sasori's abusing tongue to flood his helpless ears.

It never came.

Sasori leaned back down and kissed his temple, just above his scope. The blonde flushed with pink, feeling Sasori's frozen fingers trace the black bindings on his chest mouth. His chest mouth restrained its struggling and surrendered against its chains.

Though Deidara was joyful that Sasori had not cast him away upon seeing his chest mouth, there was a gnawing voice in the back of his conscious. His heart was floating on cloud nine, but his mind protested, pressing his lips to ask Sasori the question.

"…..D-Danna…?" his tiny, abandoned whimper murmur over Sasori's shallow breathing in his ear.

"…..Hmn…?" the nibbling at Deidara's ear ceased, the milk chocolate eyes diving into the sapphire opal, swallowing him whole. Sasori blinked in surprise at the tears forming in his eye again.

It took him a while to find his voice, but he had managed just as Sasori's lips had left his skin. "….D-Danna… this means…. That you love me, right, u-un….?" He begged, sounding a little more desperate than he wanted to be, but he couldn't help it. If the person he spilled his heart out to was just here to use him, he would be brokenhearted.

"…You ask me this after I clearly kissed you?" – Wrong answer. Deidara's eye fell, a stinging pain in his eyes at Sasori's words. The puppeteer exhaled and swallowed his pride, cupping Deidara's beautiful face in his hands. "…Yes, Deidara. I do love you."

There was so much assurance in Sasori's voice that Deidara wanted more than anything to believe it. His foolish heart lept for joy, but his logical mind held him firm and locked his heart quickly away. Deidara allowed himself to be foolish…. Even if it were just a one-time thing, it could very well be a memory he can hold on to. Deidara nodded just as Sasori's hands moved down his neck, cooling the heated flesh with its icy trails.

"…Do you trust me, Deidara?" came Sasori's voice.

The blonde swallowed hard at this, but managed a nod.

"…Do you love me…?"

He found it easier to reply to this question.

The redhead acknowledged his answers and slid a free hand down his skinny stomach, feeling for the hem of the blonde's black pants. Deidara felt his face light up with a new wave of blush. He soon found his last defense against being at his partner's mercy slithering from his legs and tossed onto the floor. As custom, Deidara pulled the cloth tied around Sasori's waist lose, motioning him further… if that was the wise thing to do.

Sasori pulled his pants free and pitched them into a corner to join Deidara's. The blonde whined, though neither of them was sure if it was for mercy or to push his Danna further. Sasori obviously wanted it… and Deidara was the first to ask for it. Hell, why not?

The air was illuminated by the faint light of chakra as Deidara felt himself being lifted from the mattress and into his partner's lap. Deidara wrapped his arms around Sasori's neck, his nose running over the puppeteer's collarbone. He positioned his legs on either side of Sasori's, hiding his face in Sasori's light, feathery hair to hide the blush manifesting his cheeks at the realization of how close the two of them were. Sasori shifted slightly, using the wall for Deidara's back to lean against. He felt a finger slide down his back, blushing darker as he realized how far down it was creeping. A ticklish sensation arose him as Sasori brushed his fingers over Deidara's hips. He couldn't help but laugh a little. Sasori returned the gesture with a laugh of his own. It wasn't the usual evil, mischievous ones Deidara endured on a daily basis, this was a true, honest laugh.

Deidara was pulled into another kiss, but there was something about this one that made him nervous. It was rough, but almost apologetic, as if he were about to do something he would regret. Deidara tried to pull away, but he was trapped between the wall and Sasori's intense lips. He felt something prod at his entrance, but by the time he realized what Sasori was doing, his body aroused with an immense pain. He had to break free from the kiss. Sasori felt his blonde rebel at this, pulling away from the kiss only to receive a fit of high-pitched screaming in his ear.

"….D-Danna…! P-Please…. I-it hurts….!" He begged, tears forming in his eyes again. Sasori protested, "…If it hurts, then scream…. Scream my name." Deidara's eye widened, his hands shoving against Sasori's shoulders to try and push him off, but Sasori was clearly stronger than him, and his body was doused with so much pain, there was little that he could do. To his shock, he found Sasori's cable writhing from its confinements. His eye wide with fear, he soon found his hands held high over his head by Sasori's metal prison. He whimpered, seeing there was no chance for escape this time.

He had to try again. "…Danna… p-please….!" His lips were captured in a swift kiss, but the pain was still more overpowering for him to notice the kiss in any way besides his inability to breathe. Sasori sighed and looked at his partner, "…Its going to hurt…" – no shit – "…but I promise it'll get better…"

Deidara couldn't possibly imagine how this could get any better, and as Sasori pushed himself in deeper, his body was overloaded with immense pain, to the point where his eyes were blinded with tears. How could Sasori say he loved him if he showed no regard to how much pain he was in…? His fingers curled into his palms. The pain was tender enough to leave permanent scars. His nails dug deep into his palms, drawing small trickles of blood over the mouths. He cried at the thought of rather being hit or slapped again. Anything than facing this…

The redhead wrapped his arms around Deidara's waist and forced in deeper, reaching Deidara's prostate. The blonde's screaming died away and the tear flow halted. The pain in his body vanished, replacing with a pleasurable feeling. He moaned through his panting, feeling Sasori slide from beneath him. But the grip on Deidara's waist only proved that Sasori wasn't done with him. Deidara gasped, the pain returning for a short period of time before Sasori hit that sweet spot in him once again, flooding his body with that same, addictive pleasure. His heart was beating like an untamed beast against his cage. He quickly remembered Sasori's request as the redhead thrust into him again.

"…..Nyah….! Da-Danna…… Sa-Sasori…. Unn…" He moaned, his spine invaded by a white-hot wave of ecstasy. Sasori purred into the sculptor's ear, nibbling at the feeble flesh beneath his teeth. Deidara's head fell back against the wall, his moaning growing louder by the second. Sasori needed no further encouragement. He grasped Deidara's thin hips and sped his pace, beads of sweat forming on Deidara's brow, his mouth gaped open with fits of moaning and grunting while his head was tossed side to side in attempt to calm himself. It was so cute the way his hair fell over his face.

"….S-Sasori…" he whimpered, forgetting to add his prefix "Danna" or even his "un". The muscles in the blonde's body tensed as Deidara reached his breaking point. His back was arching against the wall, his eye closed tightly shut at the irresistible sensation circulating his body. The pleasure flooded over him, and, with one final moan, splattered both of their stomachs with his seed.

The Puppet Master pulled carefully from Deidara, not wanting to cause him any more pain. The cable slid down Deidara's wrists, now doused with the blonde's precious blood, and back into his stomach.

Sasori felt his strength leave him as he fell back onto the bed, pulling Deidara with him. Deidara's hair fell over Sasori's, his blonde river tangling knots with the red locks below him. Deidara found the feeling in his wrists again, brushing his fingers over the seam on Sasori's neck.

Sasori curved his thin fingers around the back of Deidara's neck, his free hand snaking around the blonde's feministic waist while his nose carefully brushed across his collar. Their panting, echoing their other's in rhythmic sighs. Their gazes fell upon the other's, the raw emotions gone and changed into passion. Deidara traced the lining of the Puppeteer's slender lips, only to feel his Danna slip from under his touch.

He glided down Deidara's stomach, dragging his tongue down his chiseled figure. Deidara found enough strength in his arms to hold his chest up. His neck wilted, his breathing still heavy and fresh with moans as his eyes watched Sasori lick Deidara clean of the sweet, thick liquid on his abdomen. Deidara moaned as Sasori's tongue flicked over his member. His elbows buckled and he collapsed on top Sasori, panting into the bed sheets. He felt moisture build up in the corner of his lips while Sasori took him into his mouth. Deidara's breath hitched in his throat, an immense sensation indulging in his abdomen. He tried to breathe, but he found his lungs pressed for air. His breath only escaped in gasps in the form of Sasori's name. He whimpered, feeling that sensation brush through the inside of his loins. His fingers curled curtly around the sheets before losing through grip. He gasped loudly as Sasori's expert tongue compelled him to his limit.

Deidara sensed Sasori's body slither up his figure and give in between the blonde's gentle weight and the silken sheets.

"….D-Danna….?" Deidara asked, his eyes falling closed as Sasori stroked his throat with the length of his nose. Sasori replied with a dull grunt, too tired to part his lips and speak.

"…Does this mean you love me…?"

Without hesitation or second thought, Sasori nodded his head.

"…I love you, Dei-chan…"

Deidara raised an eyebrow.

"…So it's 'Dei-Chan' now, un…? Whatever happened to 'brat'?"

Sasori never answered. Deidara fell against his lover, his cheek rested against Sasori's smoothly carved chest, brushing his fingertips in the nicks of his heart container. The redhead parted his lips softly to free a tranquil moan. Deidara watched the smaller Akatsuki slowly drift off into sleep from beneath him, his sweet breath playing against his neck.

The blonde happily assumed he would never hear that name from Sasori again.

--

A/N – Haha… Its 12o'clock at night on a school night…. I know, I know, cheesy ending – REALLY cheesy ending. Hooray for Sasori and his slight Schizophrenia! Please take the time to write a review; they make the Puppet happy and the lemons more sour. Surprisingly, I ran across the definition for "Dadaist" in my World History text book. When I did read it, the first thing I thought was "SASORI!" Thanks for my reviews guys! You're amazing:D