"Stop your sulking, annoying little brat…" Sasori growled irritably behind the bandana tied around his maw. He shook his head and dragged himself out of the room, muttering to the frustrated blond to gather his things in twenty minutes and get ready to go, adding as a note to not be late. Itachi and Kisame had already left the room… as to where they had gone the answer wasn't clear.

Deidara forced himself up off the floor, having fallen to his knees in humiliating defeat. He'd never been so… disgraced in his entire life. How could he have fallen for such a trick? As he left the room to go back to his own living space and retrieve the bare essentials, he cursed to himself under his breath.

"Will not lose to him again, un," he muttered quietly. "Stupid… genjutsu… what was it again…?"

"Sharingan," replied a cool voice, one that made the hair on the ex-Iwa nin's neck stand up. He turned on his heel, and narrowed his aqua blue eyes, brushing his yellow hair out of his face a little with his left hand. "I am Uchiha Itachi… I am to escort you to your living quarters and then to the hideout…"

Deidara tensed, and kept walking, avoiding eye contact this time around. He'd learned his lesson the first time… he didn't need a repeat. As he walked, he pondered his name. Hadn't he heard of Uchiha before? It… sounded rather familiar… something having to do with important issues that didn't pertain to him, surely. He walked another five minutes before pushing open the door to his small flat, glancing back to see that Itachi was still following him. Hissing in distaste, he began to throw a few things into a bag.

Stupid Uchiha.

Just then, Itachi grasped Deidara's wrist. The blond wrenched away from his grip in surprise, or, at least tried to. Itachi's grip seemed a little stronger than his own, and had quite the hold. He glared at the Uchiha, glaring irately. "What do you want?"

Itachi said nothing, knocking over his bag and throwing Deidara against the wall. Bewildered, Deidara paused and blinked, highly confused, before beginning to struggle furiously. "What the hell are you doing? Wasn't that victory back there enough for you, un?!"

Once again, Itachi didn't respond… only until his intentions were beginning to surface did he utter a sound. "Do not struggle… you are already in my genjutsu for the second time, Deidara… if you struggle, you will find yourself a suicide bomber instead of a bomber for hire."

This made Deidara pause again, staring for a long second before his anger began to build up inside and he fought as much as possible, struggling to get away. As he attempted to knee Itachi, he missed, and found himself pinned with his face pressed to the wall. Itachi strattled him from behind as both hands grasped Deidara's wrists harshly, digging his long darkly painted nails into his fair skin.

He cried out softly in shock, a cold chill settling over his smaller body. "You—what the hell are you doing?! Stop it! You've had your victory! Now stop rubbing it in, un!!" The blond tried to kick Itachi off again, snarling angrily, trying to pull his wrists free. Next thing Deidara would know, his wrists were tied together with some sort of bandaging, leaving Itachi's hands free to grab whatever he wanted. Itachi must have moved too swiftly for his blue eyes to comprehend; he was an Uchiha, after all. He began realizing just who this Itachi was, remembering wispy snippets of conversation he'd heard on the street in appraisal and scorn for how gifted they were.

One hand went back to Deidara's hair and pulled harshly, tugging his head back to look up at the ceiling as the other hand went to tear any fabric that was in the way. Panic began to flood the prey as the predator lunged for his prize, exposing his flesh as he pulled himself out. Without warning, he shoved himself inside, and a scream echoed off the walls.

Never had Deidara felt such a thing. Almost as soon as his voice vibrated off the walls, Itachi's other hand went to cover his mouth, only to have his finger bitten and now bleeding freely. Itachi narrowed his eyes, but did not flinch or say anything, and instead grinded Deidara's face to the wall. His hips began to move, ignoring the open wound on his finger as he worked up to a pace.

Tears rimmed Deidara's eyes for the first time in a very long time. Not only was the pain excruciating, but this was worse than losing to him in front of the other two. He didn't know what to do to escape this situation. The mortification was almost far too much to bear, and if he didn't do something to stop it quick, then he was screwed—literally.

'Maybe it's too late to fight back…'

Slowly, he began to give up as his eyes shot around the mess of a room. Give him what he wanted… it would be over more quickly. As he gazed at a stack of papers that had scattered across the floor from the struggle, he vaguely noted the small pot of black ink that began to blot the carpeting and the documents. Shrouded in black… he didn't know why he found that particular thing so… absorbing at the moment. Perhaps he needed a distraction from the searing pain from the friction, the slight trickling of blood that was running down the inside of his thighs, the ripping of fingers at his golden hair.

And then it was over.

As quickly as it had come, it had passed; the pain was still there, but the friction had halted. Confusion and hurt washed over him as Itachi pulled out and left Deidara to lay there, his wrists still bound as he put himself away. Blood and seed began to pool beneath him after he collapsed to his side, trembling from shock. Just after Itachi had left, he realized he was never in the genjutsu. It was a lie.

Just a lie… to convince him, perhaps, that he shouldn't fight so much. Whatever his target, he'd gotten what he wanted.

He didn't know how long he laid there before he finally moved. He couldn't leave like this… he wasn't even sure if he could move. Slowly, but surely, he gathered himself up, attempting to preserve what little pride he had left.

"I thought I told you to not be late." A hazily familiar voice interrupted the silence, causing Deidara to jump and collapse over, staring at Sasori. The puppeteer scowled and glared. "I hate waiting… and making people wait. If you're going to be my partner, you'll need to remember this… don't make the same mistake again."

Deidara flushed, glancing around the room. "But… I… why did he do that?"

"Do what…? Oh. Forget about it. Now move, before I make you move myself." He growled lowly, his joints clacking slightly as he moved. That growl was enough to make Deidara gather his things and put on new pants, stumbling as he struggled to pull one leg up and then the other. As Deidara finished pulling them up, Sasori turned around to leave.

He had to catch up with him, which was naturally difficult and very painful. He kept to himself as they walked… or, rather, scooted and limped. He didn't know how long they'd walked when Sasori finally stopped for a rest.

He slumped against a large boulder to the side and rested against it, and finally said something. "Sasori… um… Sasori Danna… why did I-Itachi do that, un?"

Sasori said nothing for a long moment, obviously contemplating what to say, if he said anything. Then he growled, "You're in for a treat if you thought that was bad… well… welcome to Akatsuki, Deidara…"