Drabble. I have writer's block, so I drabbled XD Enjoy, review, don't own…

~oOo~

Deidara is an idiot. Sasori never had any doubts about that. He was reckless, he was impulsive, and he was so damn aggravating that Sasori didn't know what to do with him.

And yet, he was so happy and so alive that it warmed whatever heart Sasori had left.

The moodiness and bitterness he had and being dragged to Akatsuki had long since vanished, replaced by a pure, undiluted love of life.

He had drive, and he had focus. The only problem was that he had nowhere to direct his energy. Nowhere to aim that laser focus and iron will. He was pure, undirected, unguided energy, and to Sasori, there was something very tempting about that.

His eyes like cerulean. His hair like gold. Skin like ivory, kissed gently by the sun…he was like a piece of artwork, carefully crafted by the gods.

Sasori thought that he had gotten rid of all his human emotions. Then again, he also thought that it wasn't possible for a person to sleep for only two hours and still be a hyperactive mess. He also thought that he was a rather impatient man (one that wouldn't wait around three hours for his partner to get ready in the morning…)

He didn't think a kiss could numb his mind like a drug, reducing everything to a swirling mess of contentment and happiness. He never thought having his partner say 'I love you' would make his heart pound so fiercly.

Deidara certainly had a way of proving him wrong, didn't he?