i guess crackships are becoming my lifeblood. i read a lot of reasons why deidara could fall for itachi, and i don't like most of them. even what i've written is unsatisfactory, truly, but i tried. just a situation, nothing with really detailed plot, mostly feelings and violent making out. pseudo-asphyxiation, if that's a thing that freaks you out. enjoy.

i.

They say love is the greatest thing in the world. Deidara thinks that's a load of bullshit.

Deidara couldn't comprehend the idea of falling in love with a person, anyway. The idea of wanting to devote oneself to another human being, another persona, was just too bizarre. All humans are equally combustible, after all. Everything burns. Being in love with the fire itself, though, was an entirely different thing.

Was there even a point to something like that? Falling in love with something terribly mortal, with something that would eventually decay?

Love wasn't fleeting in its beauty, despite being beautiful a concept. It lingered and festered and it either turns fragrantly sweet, or rottenly bitter. He'd much rather things happen in an instant, leaving behind a pleasant aftertaste, shivers down his spine from the shock of a bang. Love definitely didn't fit in the equation.

Of course, he loved his art, but his love for them was spontaneous, just as explosive as his clay. He'd have a surge of utter affection every time he blew something up, and it'll die down, only to rise again when the next explosion happens. Like the surge of a huge wave slapping on a beach, or the heavy heave of wings that brought his clay creations even higher. It's a love that comes and goes, and hits him like a truck every time. That's the sort of love he was looking for.

Humans cannot satisfy that, for him.

True enough, he sometimes indulged in physical passion, which was acceptable in his means. A building, a crescendo to intense pleasure and then a bang, literally, having his senses flooded by ecstasy and then brought back down again, just like an explosion. He loved sex, but he couldn't see himself loving a person.

One night stands were enough for him to let go off some steam, cater to his pathetically human needs, but that was it.

Unless he met someone he could love explosively, Deidara was very sure he wouldn't ever be in love.

ii.

He regretted having an opinion about love, all those years ago. Maybe if he hadn't convinced himself of that view on love, he wouldn't have to actually admit it when he finally met someone who could elicit such a reaction in him. Especially when that someone was Uchiha fucking Itachi.

Deidara had always been emotionally labile, he was born that way, but Itachi enabled even more aggressive emotions from him. One moment, he'll hate the Sharingan user like nothing else, he'd want to rip Itachi's throat out and feed it to the guy. But other times he'll find himself shuddering in excitement because of how Itachi looked into his eyes, or from how their fingers brushed in exchanging documents, or how Itachi said his name. Both emotions would pass by as fast as they came, and they usually left Deidara somewhat stunned with his own feelings. It was fucking frustrating. It was great.

It made him feel utterly helpless and stupid, threw him off kilter from unpredictable sensations and he had never felt more alive.

The most annoying part was that it feels like Itachi knew what's going on with Deidara, about all these internal collisions. He hated Itachi for it. He fucking adored Itachi for it.

Even just the bursts of anger and affection he experienced from living in close quarters with Itachi was enough, for Deidara, he wasn't sure how to handle extra stimulation if they actually got anywhere physical. He was sure Itachi was merely fucking with him anyway, entertaining himself with an eccentric colleague.

Even his conflicting emotions left him breathless, he's content with just that.

iii.

There were a few things Itachi would indulge himself in, and messing with Deidara was one of his favourite pastimes. Itachi hadn't given the young Akatsuki member a second glance before, when he was still spewing scathing remarks about defeating Itachi someday, but things have…progressed. Deidara soon was honed into a respectable missing nin, and had grown up considerably since the day Itachi caught him in a genjutsu.

Grown up, in the sense that he had refined his abilities, and kept his emotions in check somewhat. There was still the juvenile pyromania, and the excitement that just defined Deidara, but Itachi found it tolerable. More than tolerable, actually, he found it interesting. hH hadn't quite met anyone like Deidara.

And he was aware, oh was he aware of how Deidara seemed to have severely differing feelings about him and their general relation to each other. Some days Itachi would see bloodlust in those blue eyes, knowing full well that Deidara was blowing him up to pieces in the artist's mind. Other days, he would see a surprising amount of fondness, which was rare for the blond. Some days, even lust.

Itachi wasn't one to take trivial matters under his concern, but he treated his interactions with Deidara as a form of stress relief. With Deidara, he could actually let loose, just a little bit. Which wasn't too much for the sake of security, but he could handle Deidara if the artist ever decided to take up on his vow of revenge. And Deidara was just too much fun. He felt nearly his age when with Deidara, than with anyone else.

Itachi never said he was a particularly nice or selfless person.

iv.

It wasn't always that Itachi and Deidara were in the same space, only fleeting moments, but when it happened, Itachi would take full advantage. Kisame and Itachi had just returned from Fang country, a fairly easy mission that brought in quite an amount of money, and Kisame had left for his quarters. Itachi decided to sit at what Hidan had dubbed the 'living room', where the Jashinist and the other members aside from Pain and Konan would engage in small talk. Or gossip, but who knows.

He sat on one of the cushions, crossing his legs and closed his eyes. He was almost in a meditative state when he felt a presence nearing him, and from the chakra pattern, he couldn't really help the small smile he had before it vanished.

Nice to know Deidara was around today.

He waited for Deidara to reach the living room, and chuckled internally at how the blond stopped at the sight of him, before letting out an audible huff. To Itachi's surprise, though, instead of going on his way, Deidara decided to grab a few cushions and sprawled on them beside Itachi, propped upright by his elbows.

Itachi opened his eyes and looked at Deidara finally, expression as neutral as ever.

"Deidara," he acknowledged, definitely noting how the blue eyes darken slightly after he said the other's name.

"Itachi," Deidara replied, tilting his head in a mocking manner, "I see you're back. Kisame around?"

"He's in his room. Are the others present?"

Deidara rolled his shoulders slightly, shaking his head, "Everyone's out, un. Even Sasori no danna left to go tend to some of his sleeper agents, or some bullshit he made up."

Itachi kept his expression very, very neutral, "So it's just us, then."

It was obvious how Deidara's relaxed stance went a little stiff, and his face tinted slightly pink. He probably thought he was doing a good job of hiding it as he scoffed, "The hell that's supposed to mean?"

"It means nothing. Why would it?" came the stoic reply from Itachi and he reveled in how the blush Deidara had only brightened, but from sudden anger. Deidara glared, blue eyes flashing with rage and Itachi could only think of him as pretty, like this.

The anger dissipated soon enough, and Deidara made an annoyed sound in his throat, "Stop being such an asshole, un."

"I wasn't aware I was being one."

"Shut the fuck up, Itachi."

He could basically feel the rising rage again, thrumming from Deidara's form beside him, and he kept silent just to bask in it. He did, however, shift and undo his Akatsuki cloak, taking it off of himself and folded it neatly, setting it aside when he was done.

Deidara was again, obviously staring, and Itachi let him, for a while. It wasn't like he wasn't wearing anything underneath, just the standard mesh shirt and a black one, which was short enough to increase increased agility, but he supposed he looked nice in it. As did Deidara, but Itachi wouldn't tell him that just yet.

And he was bored, and it had been a while since he progressed things, and he thought that they could cease dancing around each other. So he gave Deidara a little push.

"Maybe you should take a picture. It would last longer," said Itachi, such a clichéd line, but from the Uchiha, it sounded even more vicious a taunt.

After gaping for a while, Deidara fumed, and Itachi didn't really expect the bodily tackle from his side. He could have deflected it easily, but he was interested in what Deidara had to do.

Deidara, in his fury, had pushed Itachi roughly to the floor and pressed down on his chest, ultimately straddling the Uchiha. He was leaning close enough for his front bangs to brush Itachi's face, and he looked utterly infuriated.

"You fucker," he seethed, and the next thing Itachi knew, was that he had pressed his lips onto Itachi's, hard.

It was more of a collision than a kiss. Itachi didn't even think twice before reciprocating, opening his mouth and Deidara moaned, right away taking the opportunity to bite at Itachi's lips.

It was like Deidara couldn't make his mind up between kissing Itachi senseless, or to rip Itachi's lips off his face, because he kept on alternating on sloppy kissing and grazes with his teeth. Itachi took it all.

Itachi also needed to keep an effort to remain calm, because despite all of his experiences, having an angry, attractive pyromaniac trying to get at his mouth and squirming over him wasn't really something he was accustomed to.

Eventually, he felt fingers wrap around the column of his throat and Itachi watched Deidara pull back from their kiss (or what could be called of it) and he stared. Deidara was ready to strangle him into submission but that was not hate in the blue eyes, that was adoration and worship and love and Itachi had never really been confused in his life, but he was now.

Deidara looked utterly smitten, as his nails dug into the soft flesh at Itachi's neck.

The blond seemed to freeze then, and the emotion clouding his eyes faded, he ends up sneering in Itachi's face, "Stop messing with me, un."

Itachi, forever stoic, tilted his head and purposely swallowed, letting the pressure Deidara was exerting onto his neck increase, "Do you really want me to?"

Deidara stared, as Itachi looked on, and made a noise that suspiciously sounded like defeat, but not quite. He leaned back down and kissed Itachi once more, surprisingly soft in his ministrations, and parted with his tongue swiping the Uchiha's lips. He got off Itachi, pushing his hair back and stood up.

"Suit yourself. You're still a fucking asshole," he spat in dismissal, but the glance he gave Itachi was sweet and shy and almost adorable, and he walked away.

Itachi stayed there on his back for a while, before his hand absently raised to trace fingers over his neck, where Deidara had his hands earlier.

There was no explaining the silent euphoria he was experiencing aside from the lack of oxygen, so he made himself believe in that explanation.

The truth was much simpler, of course.