Sasori was on the ground, looking around under his bed. "Deidara, have you seen my shirt?" Sasori knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he had asked a very stupid question.
"Yes, un," came a reply from behind him. Sasori turned around and looked up to see his blonde partner smiling and wearing the missing shirt.
Sasori sighed and rose to his feet. He really should be used to this by now. "Deidara, why are you wearing my shirt…again?" The blonde seemed to be making a habit out of stealing Sasori's sleep shirts.
Deidara giggled. "Cause they're comfy and smell like danna, un." The same answer he gave every time Sasori asked him that question.
Sasori sighed again and sat on his bed. Deidara stole his shirts fairly often, usually after the article in question had been worn for a day or two, so it was softer and really did smell like Sasori. He was seriously tempted to put a lock on his dresser, but never actually got around to it.
Slowly, the puppeteer rose to his feet and walked over to Deidara's bed, where the sculptor was currently sitting. "Deidara, I want my shirt," Sasori said, grabbing the bottom of the shirt and pulling it over the blonde's head.
"DANNAAAAAAAAAAA!" Deidara whined, pouting at the loss of Sasori's shirt. Sasori stared. Deidara was sitting on his bed, topless, with messy hair and a cute, pleading look on his face…Sasori quickly pulled the shirt back down over Deidara's head, in order to halt an oncoming nosebleed.
"Yay!" Deidara practically squealed in delight. Sasori sighed and shook his head, amazed at how willing his was to cave in for the blonde. Suddenly, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist.
"Thank you, un," the sculptor smiled at Sasori.
Sasori gently stroked his hair. "Just don't get used to it." He tried to get up and go sleep on his bed, but the blonde kept a firm grip on him. Sasori gave him a half-hearted glare. "Dei-chan, I want to go to bed."
"Then sleep with me, danna!" The blonde tried to pull Sasori down onto his bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~One pleading look and ten seconds later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sasori had shut off all the lights and was under the covers on Deidara's bed, arms wrapped tightly around the blonde. He sighed to himself. In the past five minutes, he'd tried to take his shirt off Deidara, surrendered said shirt to said blonde, and curled up underneath the blankets of Deidara's bed to hold the sculptor. Deidara had the puppeteer wrapped around his little finger, and they both knew it. As he heard Deidara stir, he continued to wonder why he let the blonde get away with this.
Deidara buried his face in the crook of Sasori's neck, a gentle smile on his lips. "I love you, un."
"I love you too, Deidara."
That was why.