disclaimer: don't own.
title: strawberry rum
pairing: sasori x deidara, implied kakuzu x hidan
word count: 4,640
summary: a little bit of strawberry rum never hurt, did it? all it does is send you on a chase to find the blonde you had a one night stand with. but that's only if you're sasori.
warning: lemon (because for his birthday I will allow Sasori to get some action) at the beginning but nothing m-rated after that.
Sasori didn't go drinking often.
In fact, he, at this moment, was the precise reason he didn't go drinking all that often. He hated having to move out of the way for hormonal couples to stumble past, lips connected and drinks sloshing around in their cups, hitting every surface possible. He would glare at them and scowl, disapprove of their lack of self control.
However, Sasori liked to think he had a bit more coordination as he dragged a blonde by his collar into the bedroom, never once breaking their kiss as he locked the door and proceeded to push him down on the bed, smirking slightly.
"Name…?" he murmured against those lips that he had grown addicted to, a shiver being sent down his spine when he felt a hand begin to undo his pants.
"Does it matter, un?"
"I need something to call you by later…"
A dry laugh followed with another kiss, but Sasori managed to make out 'Deidara' between them.
He remembered coming out to celebrate—his birthday, right?—yes, his birthday with a few friends. They had insisted on simply stopping by because, after all, this was college and he was turning twenty one; he could now legally drink, isn't that exciting? And Friday night apartment parties were the best. Sasori couldn't say anything; three against one and when Itachi wanted to go somewhere, they were all forced to go.
Sasori had answered curtly that he chose not to drink because of the disgusting taste, not because of the law.
Nevertheless, he found himself taking a few shots, the clear bottle of rum catching his attention. Typically the drink didn't attract Sasori; when he swallowed, it left him with a cough and burning sensation down his throat. But the redhead was fond of strawberries and it smelled sweet and promising; he had high hopes as he drank it.
It was a bit better than plain rum and Sasori agreed to a second, wondering if it was true that the more he drank the better it would taste. All he knew was that he rather liked the sweet tinge of strawberry mixed in with the liquid and soon he was on his third, fourth, fifth. Still, though, he wasn't drunk; he could look around the room and think clearly, judge those that were obviously out of it.
Sixth, seventh, eighth; Sasori was light and short but he had a high alcohol tolerance and it was only after the eighth shot that he even felt the slightest bit from the alcohol.
Ninth tenth eleventh; he should stop, he was thinking as he pressed the rim of the shot glass to his lips—was this twelve or thirteen?—he really should.
A brown eye had opened and scanned over the person who had approached him. A smirk was etched on his lips and he wasn't bad looking, Sasori thought. He had blue eyes and fair skin, long blonde hair tied in a half ponytail and a lean build. Young looking, definitely, he was probably nineteen or twenty, but Sasori had more faith in the former. Sasori gave a nod in acknowledgment, moving aside as he reached over and picked up the bottle that the redhead had become well acquainted with, pouring himself a shot and held it up.
"A drink?" he asked and Sasori could immediately tell this wasn't his first, "To friends, un."
Speech impediment…? Sasori wondered but he nodded and clinked his glass to the blonde's. "To friends."
And shot number twelve—or thirteen—went down his throat, sweet strawberry flavor mixed with hard alcohol. The burning sensation had lessened, which could be interpreted as good or bad, Sasori was thinking as he placed the glass on the counter. Definitely time to stop.
When the blonde placed his glass next to Sasori's, their fingers brushed and Sasori found himself looking at him. There was a beat of silence as they stared at each other, brown eyes staring into blue ones, intoxication clear in both expressions, but not to the point of complete loss of mobility and rationality.
Then he leaned forward and his fingers reached up to just flit across Sasori's jawline before a hand rested there and kissed him; Sasori could still taste the lingering strawberry on his lips and found himself kissing back, gentle at first but turning more hungry.
And that was just about when he became the exact reason he hated going drinking.
But, he continued to assure himself, he wasn't drunk, not at all. Someone would have stopped him, wouldn't they? After all, he stumbled past his friends, lip locked with this Deidara, making it evident what he was planning to do and all Hidan had done was clap him on the back and give a wolf whistle.
Not drunk, not drunk, not drunk… he was chanting in his head as he continued to kiss him, hands working at the fabric of the blonde's shirt, clumsily unbuttoning all those damn tiny buttons. The kisses were growing sloppy and hungrier but Sasori didn't care. Deidara's hands had swiftly undone his pants and was pushing them off, but leaving the boxers on. When he finished unbuttoning the blonde's shirt, Sasori paused and pulled away to pull his shirt off, hearing Deidara move to strip himself of his garments as well.
"So how old—"
"Legal," came the answer with a smirk as Deidara pulled the redhead down again and their lips crashed on top of each other's, chests bare and pressing to each other.
"As in an actual number, brat."
A laugh broke the kiss and Deidara entangled his fingers in Sasori's short red locks as he began to undo the buttons and zipper of Deidara's jeans, impatient and pulling both his pants and boxers off in one swift movement. "Nineteen," he answered and kicked the remaining garments that clothed him off gracefully as Sasori did the same with his pants. "You?"
"Turned twenty one an hour ago," Sasori replied and a hand reached down to stroke the blonde's member, earning him a breathy moan.
"Happy birthday, un," he murmured and smirked, "any cake?"
"Don't like sweets."
"I mean no offense but…"
Clearly Deidara was a bit further gone than Sasori as he gave a quick nod, as if remembering their position. He reached over and opened a drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and tossed it to Sasori, giving a smirk.
"Since it's your birthday I won't fight you for top, un."
He smirked as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the blonde's slightly swollen lips and squeezed a bit of the lube onto his fingers, spreading it evenly before he pressed his fingers to Deidara's entrance. He showed a momentary sign of discomfort and bit his lip but seemed intent on forgetting it as he kissed Sasori, bringing his hands up to cup the redhead's face.
"How much prep do you—"
"Ah, that's more than enough—"
Withdrawing his hand, Sasori pushed his boxers off and threw them to the ground carelessly. As he squeezed more lube onto his fingers, he made sure to accidentally brush a hand against Deidara's erection, smirking when he was rewarded with another breathy moan.
"You ass, un…"
He capped the lube and tossed it to the side, pressing his length to Deidara.
"I'll make it worth your while, yeah?"
As he entered, Deidara let out a strangled groan of pain, back arching against Sasori. The redhead pressed kisses to his neck and jawline, moving slowly. Slight twinges of pain were felt from his back and he realized Deidara was digging his nails in, entire body tensing.
"That hurts, brat."
"Shut up, un."
He pulled back for a moment to bite his lip, hands clenching the sheets of the bed below Deidara. Alcohol was still swimming in his system but that didn't dull any of the sensations, of pleasure with a tinge of pain, much like that bitter rum with a tinge of sweetness. His breathing had changed a bit as had Deidara's and he pulled out slowly and eased himself back in, trying to not hurt him too much.
Deidara's eyes were closed and he was more relaxed, nails no longer digging into the flesh of Sasori's back. He wrapped his legs around Sasori's waist lazily as he continued to move, tentatively increasing his speed, searching for a certain spot, curious to know how Deidara would react—
Smirking, Sasori memorized the spot and began to move faster, his fingers tangling themselves within the long blonde locks of hair splayed across the rumpled sheets. Deidara's breathing was growing erratic and his hips bucked every so often, back arching and another delicious moan tearing past his lips as his eyes were screwed shut.
"F… fas… fast… er… un…"
It amused Sasori that he still retained his speech impediment but he was grateful for the command. His thrusts grew shorter and faster, harder and shallower, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh growing in the quiet room.
In most situations, Sasori would be annoyed at being given so many commands. But at this moment, he didn't care; he crashed his lips onto Deidara's as ordered and slipped his tongue into the younger male's mouth, the taste of the alcohol still present, the sweet scent and taste addicting for Sasori.
He reached down and wrapped a hand around Deidara's member and began to move his hand in time with his thrusts. Deidara muttered something akin to 'bastard' but Sasori smirked as the male arched his back at the sensation, moans multiplying. Burying his face in his neck, Sasori pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin and could feel the coil in his lower stomach tightening, pleasure coursing through his veins.
His heart was racing, rattling his ribcage, and he wondered if Deidara could feel it. But if he could, Sasori wouldn't be surprised if he ignored it; with their chests pressed together, he could feel the vibrations as Deidara moaned, panting heavily at the sensation. "Sa… Sasori… I'm… going to-!"
Sasori took that as his cue to go faster and thrust harder than he had to bring the blonde beneath him to his climax, hips and hands working together in perfect unison. Deidara was tensing up beneath him and it was so pleasurable that it was nearly painful and Sasori couldn't decide if he wanted it to be over or prolong it just a bit longer, torturous but wonderful…
Deidara's hips bucked for a final time and he groaned with his release, muscles clenching. Sasori came a few thrusts later, feeling the unwinding of the coil and sweet release wash through him as he moved lazily, riding out his orgasm. The blonde lay limp beneath him, chest rising and heaving with heavy breaths and when he let his arms drop, Sasori fell to beside him, indulging in nothing but sweet silence for a few moments.
"…Sasori… was it, un?"
He had to swallow before he could speak, fatigue still overtaking him. "Yes."
Deidara turned to him and offered a lazy smirk.
"Happy birthday, un."
As usual, he had no hangover.
Because he didn't get drunk, Sasori repeated to himself, drilling the words into his mind, there was no way he got drunk because he remembered absolutely everything that happened (although it did feel like a lagging movie at some points). But the point was twelve—or thirteen?—shots did not make him drunk.
"Dude, you weren't sober last night."
"But I wasn't drunk."
Hidan rolled his eyes and returned to laying down on the couch he had been occupying when Sasori came out of his room. Hidan was not the ideal roommate, Sasori thought dryly, but he was all right. He was always willing to get food if he craved it and, should Sasori ever want, Hidan could find any kind of alcohol at any time. The Akasuna knew better than to get involved and figure out why.
When he awoke that morning, his first feeling was one of thirst. Obviously he had drank water before going to sleep, drinking as much as he possibly could to alleviate any discomfort in the morning. And, as he predicted, he was only slightly disoriented when he awoke this morning, but had a bottle of water resting by his pillow, for he had predicted this. Because he wasn't drunk and could still think logically, he liked to think.
Several gulps later, he was feeling better. The parched feeling in his throat was gone and he could sit up without the room spinning, even able to walk after he blinked a few times. The redhead had tentatively swung his legs over the side of his bed and tested the solidity of the ground (refusing to admit he was making sure he wouldn't fall over) before he stood up and walked out, knowing he would have to find food eventually.
"So who was the guy you fucked last night?" Hidan called from the couch and Sasori waited until he had poured his bowl of cereal before answering.
Speech impediment kid? "Deidara."
"You going to see him again?"
He capped the milk and replaced it in refrigerator, picking up his bowl and walking over to the unoccupied loveseat. He sat down and rested his bowl on the coffee table, reaching for the newspaper that Hidan obviously wasn't reading and opened it, feeling Hidan staring at him.
"What?" he snapped, looking up to meet magenta eyes that were smirking at him.
"Not going for another fuck?"
"No," he answered and glared at him as he stirred his cereal, "One night stand. One night. One time thing."
"…I mean it."
"I mean it."
Hidan looked down but he was still smirking and Sasori's frown deepened, feeling unsettled. He should've realized it was a trap; sometimes he found himself outsmarted by the idiot, realizing only too late. It was always obvious when he looked back, always coming in the form of Sasori denying what Hidan was implying, even if he never voiced it.
"I mean it."
Hidan smirked but said nothing, simply continued to nap.
He feigned a snore.
A fake yawn.
"I don't need your attitude."
"I despise you."
The week passed without any major occurrences; midterms had ended last week and the first week after them was always lax, especially for Sasori. He went through classes with only half his brain listening, the other half spacing out. Hidan seemed to have forgotten about Deidara, who he teased Sasori about nearly all weekend, and resumed to complaining about classes instead, usually giving up and swearing terribly.
Itachi found himself trying to calm Hidan as Pein worked quietly on his physics, occasionally glancing up to give Hidan and Itachi a glare. They studied together nearly every day at this spot in the quad under a large tree that provided them with shade, sometimes actually working on academics, usually just glaring at each other.
But this entire week as they were here, Sasori found himself unable to focus, tapping the end of his pencil against his textbook, brow furrowed and a scowl permanently present on his expression. Everywhere he looked, he saw only the combination of yellow and blue: sun in the sky, the yellow fish in the seat on the cover of his text book (which had nothing to do with calculus but textbook covers never made sense anyway), even the color combination of clothing that people chose this week.
To make it worse, he was seeing that bottle of strawberry rum—he finally remembered it was Bacardi's that he was drinking—everywhere. Not that people were drinking on campus—no one was that stupid—but he kept seeing clear bottles and dragon fruit everywhere, even hearing people talk about it. He had caught sight of one of them in Hidan's room and simply gave an exasperated sigh, slamming the door shut and leaving.
Even if he wasn't sober—but he wasn't drunk, he muttered insistently—he could still remember the taste. He had coughed after the first shot, surprised that something that smelled so sweet could be so painful; he hardly even felt the liquid going down, simply felt the burning sensation. Yet the sweet taste and smell was addictive and memorable, still so clear days later.
He found himself craning his neck whenever he wasn't in class, searching for a flash of blonde hair. Yet he reprimanded himself, reminding himself that he didn't care about him, that he was a one night stand, and so he could care less because it wasn't like he was a girl and Sasori had to make sure there wasn't a future little Akasuna running around but maybe they could talk about—
He was going crazy.
It had come to Saturday morning again and Sasori was in the kitchen, once again pouring a bowl of cereal. He hadn't drank last night, remaining completely sober and resumed his activity of watching drunk people make idiots out of himself at the party Hidan insisted on going to. He refused to admit it but out of the corner of his eye, he was constantly watching for blonde hair, hoping that he had come to the right party, that Deidara had come to this one.
But, of course, with his luck, he hadn't. He saw many blondes and blue-eyed people, but none were both blue-eyed and blonde and went by the name of Deidara. It was simply another night in a cramped apartment, warm from all the people, loud from all the drunken laughter and slurred speech.
He busied himself with homework and studying, trying anything to keep his mind off of Deidara because, after all, that was how one night stands worked.
"So, you still thinking about him?"
"Shut up, Hidan."
He honestly wondered how he hadn't moved out of his apartment yet to get away from Hidan. The silver haired man was, for once, sitting up at the couch and engaging in a very difficult game of chess with himself (and somehow still losing). When he heard Sasori come out of his room, he had looked up and interrogated him.
"…The fuck? I didn't even say anything!"
Sasori frowned and put the cereal back in the pantry. Even if Hidan didn't say it, he knew that he was asking the question and it definitely wasn't because he was paranoid…
"Leave me alone."
"Dude, I didn't fucking say anything!"
A frown rested on Sasori's lips as he adopted a contemplative expression, hazel eyes narrowing and a scowl pulling as Hidan's question rang in his head. Memories of the night last week were flitting through his broken memory: being dragged there, drinking, the sweet taste of strawberries, the blonde, the smirk, his moans, how the lingering scent of the red fruit on him didn't seem to solely be from the rum…
Sasori wasn't sure how long it was, but they had eventually left the room after getting dressed, leaving one at a time as to not draw attention to themselves. Sasori had left first because Deidara waved him off, saying he wanted to take a nap and he'd be out later. The redhead had shrugged—after all, he only knew the kid's name—and slipped on his clothing and out the door, rejoining the party as easily as he had left it.
Hidan wasn't ready to leave and neither were Pein or Itachi, so Sasori poured himself some water in a red cup to prevent people from offering him drinks and sought a peaceful place on a couch to wait for his friends to tire and go back with him. His eyes hadn't gone back to the room he came out of, Deidara never once crossing his mind as he continued to sip his water, ignoring the various people that tried to engage in conversation with him.
At one point or another, Deidara had come out of the room, but Sasori hadn't noticed; he just caught a sight of the blonde hair before he and the other three left. The last thing he remembered of the party was hearing Deidara laugh with someone that looked familiar, but never someone important enough for Sasori to remember the name of.
But now a week later, he found that he was curious about Deidara, questions were passing through his mind now that he hadn't even thought about that night. What's your major? What do you do? What do you want to do? What is your passion? Because there was someone behind the blue eyes and blonde hair, someone with a story and life of his own, one that Sasori found he was interested in.
It wasn't as if this was his first one night stand, but it was the only one where Sasori had lingering thoughts about him, unable to forget the smirk and lingering taste of strawberries on his lips.
Hidan looked up just in time to see the apartment door slam shut and Sasori leave, a brow raised.
"I didn't fucking say anything!"
Except he had absolutely no idea how to go about finding this kid.
He realized this only after he had sprinted around the entire university once, finally coming to a rest in the quad by a tree. He was leaning on his knees for support, chest heaving and sweat uncomfortable as the cold wind picked up again, chilling him but at the same time he was uncomfortably warm from running around. The sudden inspiration to find him clouded his judgment and he realized he didn't know anything except a first name and how he looked; that wouldn't help him at all.
Damnit, he muttered as he brought the back of his hand up to his mouth and looked up irritably, damnit, damnit, damnit.
His heart was beginning to return to its normal rate and he straightened up, scowling and looked around—would he see that flash of blonde hair? Probably not, he thought, no one in his right state of mind would be on campus at ten in the morning on a Saturday.
Memories of the party flit through Sasori's mind, much like how he would skim through textbooks and absorb the information. Only this time, the information wasn't coming to him easily; he couldn't zoom in and clarify what he wanted to, remembering only the most basic things. He stopped at the moment he saw Deidara talking to someone and closed his eyes; he brought a hand up to his face as if to help him concentrate and focused on the taller male.
Tan skin and dark hair, a bit menacing looking—where had Sasori seen him before? He had, for sure, that was the problem with a photographic memory, he remembered…
Brown eyes opened immediately when he remembered how Hidan had brought Kakuzu over to "study" and Sasori left before noises could infiltrate the silence and corrupt him. He had said they were simply friends but obviously more, yet Sasori never dared to say that for fear of being absolutely murdered.
He pulled out his phone and dialed the number to Hidan's cell phone, pressing the device to his ear and hoped for him to pick up. He figured Hidan would; even if he watched the silver haired man ignore most calls, surely he would pick up the call of his roommate, right? Especially the roommate that could evict him for being late on three months' worth of rent…
"Yo, fucker. What do you want?"
"Your boyfriend thing," Sasori said, ignoring Hidan's sputtering on the other end of the phone, "Where is he right now?"
"The fuck you want with-?!"
"I need him to find someone."
"Hell no, that's-!"
"I will evict you."
"…Probably in his dorm. Twenty seventy one in Yuga."
He ended the conversation abruptly, surprised he could even utter any kind of a salutation and pocketed his phone as he turned on his heel and sprinted towards the dorms. People were staring at him but he couldn't fathom why when he saw people sprinting every day to not be late for a class. The dorms were a ten minute walk from campus but only three with his sprinting and he soon found himself at the door of the Yuga residence hall, swiping his ID and going in, taking the steps two at a time for the second floor.
Stirs were heard from behind closed doors and, had it been anyone else, Sasori would have been immensely annoyed at someone running through the halls this early on a Saturday. His keen eyes were watching the numbers of the doors carefully, finally slowing to a stop in front of 271, taking a moment to calm himself. He brought a hand up to lean against the wall and panted, chest heaving as he stared at the name plate, seeing both Kakuzu and Deidara's name.
Thank god, he thought, giving even the slightest of smirks and hung his head, if I ran any more this kid would have been worth it for real.
He couldn't explain why he suddenly wanted to see him, why he developed an interest. He knew nothing of him but something was fascinating; he was nineteen years old, blonde, blue eyed, and bottomed for him. That was the extent of Sasori's knowledge on Deidara.
Yet the feeling of his soft tresses against Sasori's fingers was embedded in his memory, the feeling of his nails digging into Sasori's back, how his back arched and their bodies were pressed together. How his kisses were gentle but also felt rough and passionate, how every time Sasori thought about him he would remember that strawberry rum, the clear bottle with a label with a dragon fruit on it. The sickeningly sweet and promising smell, the burning sensation, that liquid became mild and even delicious when he tasted it from Deidara.
Lifting a hand, he rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. His heartbeat was still racing but for a different reason; he wasn't panting anymore and that was all he needed. It took a few moments and, for once, Sasori was patient, knowing that he was asking a lot when he went knocking on the door of two guys that probably went to a party the night before at an ungodly hour on a weekend.
Shuffling was heard and a few slams as well, but the door opened and Deidara was half glaring (and half dressed). A hand was brought up to his messy hair, let down from the half ponytail that Sasori associated him with and strands were in front of his face. "Wha—eh? You're—"
"You look terrible."
Deidara blinked a few times in rapid succession but straightened up and offered a smirk, crossing his arms over the well toned chest that Sasori hadn't properly observed last time. "Your rudeness wasn't attributed to alcohol then, un. You remember me?"
"Of course," Sasori gave a shrug, catching sight of someone glaring at him before returning to bed, "Do you remember me?"
"Ah, Sasori, the birthday boy, yeah?" Deidara gave a dry laugh and nodded, bringing a hand up to run through his hair, temporarily relieving his face of the obscurity, "Yeah, un. Did you need something?"
I ran through campus looking for you.
I can't get you out of my mind.
I want to get to know you.
I can't forget the lingering taste of strawberries on your lips.
But of course, Sasori didn't let any of that slip from his tongue. Instead, he gave a smirk, one of confidence and arrogance, the type that he was used to showing people.
"Are you free tonight?"
author's notes: happy birthday, Sasori! I'm sorry to make you run around campus like an idiot without a plan at first, but at least you got laid the night before and have a date tonight? thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and reviews are much appreciated, as always!