When a blonde man woke up there was still dark outside. It was always like that. He had to wake up early, so he could to slide out of HIS room without anybody noticing.
He opened his eyes and observed him in his sleep. 'He looks like angel,' he thought. He could stare at him many hours. He must admire his beautiful aristocrat lines. He loved his hair, eyes, hand that gentle traveled across his own body, he loved when he could play with his hair, he loved everything on his dark haired lover. He admired the strength of his body, which could raise his temperature when he looked at him.
But he knew that when they meet in the morning, they must pretend. Sometimes they didn't even look at each other. The other Akatsuki members wouldn't understand. They wouldn't understand their love. So they could meet only at a night when they weren't on a mission. Such nights were filled with passion.
Deidara brushed off of his face blond hair and emancipate himself out of the possessive embrace his lover. He looked down on his face and couldn't stand it. He inclined his face and kissed his lover on the lips. Then he stood up, dressed himself and went to the door. Before Deidara left, he looked for the last time at his lover, peacefully sleeping on the bed, a whispered: "So at night again, Itachi…"