Sasori stared in shock as the blonde pulled back with multiple emotions on his face. There was fear, lust, love, and anxiousness.
The blonde had just kissed the redhead, kissed the boy he'd known since he was five and the redhead was seven. Now they were thirteen and fifteen and the blonde looked as nervous as ever. His arms wrapped around the redhead's waist and he pulled him close with tears dripping down his face.
"I'm sorry un." It was an expression the blonde used a lot since Sasori's family had taken him in. He always felt like he was doing something wrong and everything was his fault, if a pot was knocked over it was his fault, if a dollar was lost it was his fault, if a freakin goat died it was his fault. Of course he'd been taught that way for a while.
"Brat knock it off." growled Sasori. His own arms wrapped around his fragile Deidara pulling him so close. Even after years of food he could still feel the blonde's bones right through his skin. He placed his own lips on the blonde's two perfect ones and felt the blonde relax, happiness filling his body.
"You, you want me Sasori?" he asked after the kiss was broken.
"Yes." Sasori said rubbing the blonde's back in a motion that made the blonde mewl with appreciation.
"But I'm a."
"I know what you are brat and I couldn't hate you for that. If you were a bastard then yes I'd hate you, but you're just a sweet confused kid."
"So that's all you see me as un?" The blonde huffed.
"No, I see you as the man I want to spend the rest of my life with."
"Eternally?"
"Eternally." The redhead promised and once again kissed his love.
You'd think a story like this would be some highschool story or some kids who went through school together.
No, this story begins during World War II.
When Sasori's dad was a Nazi and they lived in a house near the concentration camps.
When a boy with redhair was seven wearing good clothes met a boy with blonde hair who was five wearing striped pajamas on the other side of the fence.