Upon waking, Deidara found himself alone in the room. Looking around still half-asleep, the blonde yawned and sighed. Sitting up, he looked about to find that the room was still in disarrayed as it was the night before. Rubbing the side of his head,Deidara groaned.

"Did I drink too much again?" He asked himself out loud before realizing that he was naked. Eyes growing wide, his heart began to palpate. "Say it's not true!"

The doors slid open and the puppet came up with a tray of tea. A soft smile on his face, he set the tea on the floor next to the futon then turns to Deidara. "Did you sleep well?"

Face completely flushed now,Deidara turned away as his mind frantically put one and one together. "Ah!" He suddenly shouted, throwing his arms into the air.

Watching as his partner flailed and grumbled to himself, Sasori was uncertain how to react. He was not even sure why Deidara was freaking out in the first place. "Dei...dara...? What's wrong?"

"What is this? Some kind of twisted deja vu?" Deidara thought out loud to himself before he turned to awkwardly face Sasori. "Erm...Hello..." he greeted reluctantly, fingers curling into a strange wave.

"You are not...dying again, are you?" Sasori asked tauntingly.

Calming down, Deidara cocked his head a little. "So then...un... This...Wait...was yesterday the party?"

"No, Deidara-san. That was the night before," Sasori replied curtly.

"Oh...I see..." Deidara acknowledged quietly before pressing the blanket to his chest. "Then...it was real? I wasn't dreaming then?"

A vague smile appeared on Sasori's lips and he nodded. Crawling to Deidara's side, he blushed lightly, looking away from the blonde. Their fateful collision last night recalled, Sasori blushed harder.

Looking away from Sasori as well, Deidara rocked back and forth nervously. "So..Did you..Did you mean it? When you said you love me,I mean. Did you mean it?"

Nodding silently, Sasori drew his knees to his chest. "What about you? Did you mean it? What you said?"

"Yeah,I did..." Deidara answer earnestly, hand creeping closer to Sasori's, innocently caressing the puppet's. He gradually raised his gaze to observe Sasori's well-crafted profile. Now lacing fingers with his partner, a crooked smile suspended his lips before he looked away again.

The two sat there holding hands as if a couple of junior high students in love for the first time. Their hearts were fluttering and their faces red. Neither dared to utter a single word to break the divine silence between them. Without exchanging glances, and without exchanging words, they sat; all the feelings bottled up within for years somehow transcending the physical barrier and expressing themselves freely.

The silence that lasted only a few minutes seem to drag on for a time life before Sasori finally turned, and taking his left hand, he gently brushed the blonde's cheek. Now adverting his attention to the man sitting next to him, Deidara gazed into Sasori's amber eyes with anticipation. His lips parted slightly as to gently utter the other's name, however it was briefly covered by Sasori's own. A soft moan emitted from Deidara's throat as Sasori passionately kissed him,and in time, he allowed his entire body to press forward against the man he loved.

Pulling back to look Deidara in the eye, Sasori smiled. "You are my favourite subject matter."

"Then make me the focus of all your art,"Deidara suggested, leaning in for another kiss.

And as their lips locked once again, the puppet master put Deidara on his back again. Running his jointed hands through the fine strands of blonde, he exhaled a quivering sigh. He only wish he had a life time to give in dedication to his beloved art. If he had it his way, their days and nights would be the most exquisite of galleries. If their lives were really meant for beauty instead of war,and their destinies were intertwined by the love of art instead of the hatred for humanity and lust for power, what kind of tomorrow would they hold?

Their bodies melted together in the afternoon sun, voices faltering, breaths gasping. And as they were calling each other's name out loud, without fear of being overheard, they immortalized their art, making promises like let's have "morning sickness" every morning.