A/N One of my friends is a HUGE SasoDei fan, but I never really got into it that much. I got the idea but I wasn't going to write it, so this is kind of like a Christmas present to her. :)
Mainly though, I just wanted to write SasoDei where Deidara's actually in character.
Summary Because Deidara is a ball of sunshine and Sasori is just delightful. Obviously, you've got them confused with somebody else.
Deidara was never a fan of moving. In fact, he quite hated it. He didn't see the point of leaving a perfectly comfortable home, why not just stay?
After all, that'd be less work. You wouldn't have to pack everything up, put everything in the car, take everything out of the car, and take everything out of the boxes. It was just easier not to move.
But, here he was, moving the last box into his new "home".
Well, this move was kind of necessary. He was moving into a college dorm, after all.
He sighed, setting down the final box [full of nothing but clay]. It didn't look like his roommate had arrived yet - he wasn't lucky enough to get a single room, it cost too much. Deidara preferred to be alone - kind of like Itachi, except not like Itachi because Itachi was a bitch, but it's the same concept. He wasn't good with people.
He decided he might as well start unpacking. He chose the bottom bunk because he was too lazy to climb up to the top one every night.
He found the box labeled "bed stuff" [he was never good with naming things] and made up the bed. He put a few of his clothes [everything black - mid drift shirts, fish net shirts, and overly tight jeans] in the closet and then pushed everything else off to the side.
He then opened up his messenger bag and pulled out his sketchbook. He wasn't big on sketching, to be honest - sculptures were much better, but there was no way in Hell that he'd be setting up his entire workspace when it was already six o'clock. It took hours to get everything just right [this was the only thing he was a perfectionist about].
He didn't even unpack a chair - he just sat down on the floor, back to the wall. He was sitting right next to the door and facing the window so he could draw what he saw outside of it. Which...wasn't much, but he drew it anyway.
After all, Deidara was an artist.
Sasori didn't know when exactly he was supposed to get to his dorm. That annoyed him.
He was a perfectionist in nearly every aspect, punctuality was a big one. He couldn't yell at someone for being late if he, himself, showed up late. But, honestly, he was flying in from Sunagakure, so it could be forgiven even if there wasn't a time he was actually supposed to be there.
He probably could have gotten an earlier flight, though.
He ended up making it to the college at six thirty. However, with the time it took him to get everything from his truck, put it on a luggage cart - like one you'd see at a hotel - and bring it too his room, he didn't actually make it in until six fourty-five.
He opened the door and saw that...well, someone had already been here. That made sense, he supposed - he was supposed to have a roommate, after all [his grandmother was cheap and figured it be good for him to 'socialize']. But... he didn't see his roommate.
When he listened closely, he heard the sound of pencil on paper [a sound he was quite familiar with]. He looked down at the floor. There was his roommate, sketching.
His new roommate truly didn't look like that bad of a guy. Though, the only reason he knew it was a guy was because it was the boys dormitory.
He had long blond hair and everything he was wearing was black - not that he was wearing as much as any normal guy would wear. He had on black tight jeans, a mesh shirt, and over the mesh was a black mid drift shirt.
Well...it was summer, he supposed. Of course that didn't stop Sasori from wearing a jacket - he was used to Suna summers. If you didn't live there long enough, you probably would die from heat stroke. He, however, had lived there his entire life, and wasn't used to it reaching only sixty-five degrees in summer - it did get that low one winter, though.
As he stared at his roommate, he realized the other boy had failed to notice him.
He cleared his throat - no reaction.
He tried again - still no reaction.
"Are you even there?" he asked. The blond jumped, and snapped his head toward him, probably getting whiplash. He had the brightest blue eyes, surrounded by dark eyeliner, and he was currently looking like a deer in headlights.
Then is mouth contorted into a frown and his eyes narrowed to a fierce glare. "Who are you, un?"
Sasori raised an eyebrow about the sylable at the end, but ignored it. "Don't you know you should tell your own name before asking someone else's?" This, of course, only managed to make the blond angrier.
"I'm Deidara, un, now - back to my question - who are you, yeah?"
"Sasori," he introduced. He then added sarcastically, "I can tell your parents begged you to stay at home."
"What's that supposed to mean, un?"
Sasori shrugged and continued in his previous sarcastic tone. "Just that you're a ball of fucking sunshine." Without waiting for Deidara to reply, he walked over to the closet and began unpacking his clothes.
"And you're absolutely delightful, un," he replied, equally as sarcastic. Deidara stood up and walked over to Sasori. The redhead, feeling his eyes, turned around.
"Can I help you...?" The blond was sizing him up, seeing if he could take him. Eventually, he sighed. It wasn't worth it. Sasori, in turn, sighed, content with the new found silence. He could already tell it wasn't something he'd be getting a lot of.
After getting all of his clothes into the closet, Sasori began looking around the room. It really wasn't that big - at all.
Deidara was sitting on the desk that was provided for them, pouting. He rolled his eyes. Briefly, he saw the abandoned sketch book lying on the floor.
He picked it up - it was the view from the window. He compared the two.
Then, though he was really enjoying the silence - he broke it [the silence, that it]. As an artist, himself - he felt the need to critique. "The angles are all wrong."
The blond snapped his head toward the red head again and saw the sketch book in his hand. "Well sorry, Mister da Vinci-Picasso - but I'm a sculptor. Drawing isn't something I do often, yeah."
"You're still an artist - or, at least, I suppose you consider yourself one. You should be able to work with different mediums."
Deidara was about to reply, when he thought about it. It was...kind of true, he supposed - in a completely wrong way, but still. Eventually, he just kind of groaned. This wasn't getting them anyways. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he was calm again, he snapped his eyes open. "Look, this is getting us anywhere. Quite frankly, if I'm stuck with you for the remainder of my time in college - we need to either get along or ignore each other completely, un."
"There is a way to request a new roommate though," Sasori pointed out. He'd only known him for fifteen minutes and he wasn't a fan.
Deidara shrugged. "But I'm lazy, un," he said. "And I like redheads." He said the last part purely for the purpose of freaking out his roommate.
That's not to say it wasn't true, though. If he was drunk off his ass - he always went straight for the redheads. They were sexy, male or female. This guy, Sasori - was kind of both. He had short hair like a guy and he was pretty sure he saw abs when his shirt lifted up as he was putting up clothes in the closet, but he had, quite frankly, the most feminine face Deidara had ever seen on a guy.
He was also short, and kind of dainty.
Anyways, he said that to freak him out. Which was why the last thing he expected to come out of the others mouth was, "Redheads? I prefer blonds, personally." By this time, Sasori was leaning up against the wall, arms crossed and eyes closed - a smirk embellished on his face.
Deidara could use this to his advantage. He was going to traumatize him. Why? Because he wanted too - and Deidara always did what he wanted.
So, he stalked over to him, like a cougar hunting their prey. "Blonds?" he asked, not stopping until he was right in front of Sasori. "But haven't you heard, un?" He grabbed him by the waist, making one of Sasori's eyes open. "Most of us are sluts." He was grinning viciously.
"Really?" Sasori replied, putting his hands on the blonds waist. "Apparently you haven't heard that redheads are good in bed - so I don't think that'll be a problem." He was still smirking.
Deidara moved his hands so they were around Sasori's neck. They were nose to nose. "I suppose not." He tangled his fingers in his red hair.
Three seconds later he was shoving his tongue down his throat.
By the time they stopped making out - Deidara was the one pinned to the wall. They were breathing heavily.
Sasori looked over to the beds. "Oh, good - you're on the bottom. I wanted the top anyways."
A/N This is simply proof that I shouldn't write SasoDei...I probably will anyways. Especially considering I want to write another story that involves it. Anyways... I enjoy reviews.