Deidara was certain he was going to finally do it. He was going to kiss that idiot Tobi and get these stupid feelings out and hopefully crush them into nonexistence.
The pillow under his head was soft and comforting, but a gentle reminder that what was playing through his head was only an imaginary fantasy (one of which he was going to deny enjoying; these feelings were supposed to be going away, not making his heart beat faster). No, his lips were not tightly pressed against pretty pale ones, his fingers weren't tightly curled around the silk sheets under his restless body and certainly not in raven hair with strong force, long and slender legs were still rather than trembling with unwanted nervousness.
No, he lay in his single bed, alone, lips settled in firm pout. The artist curled over on his side, the bed groaning at the shift quietly, as the images his mind was teasing him with played over and over, the bomber now facing a dark wall.
There was a small amount of comfort in the blackened walls and the ashy smell from where numerous explosions had left memories against the stone. Nose twitching at the familiar sent, a twinge of comfort to sooth the breath of butterflies in his stomach, Deidara sighed softly as a hand came to rest over his eyes, a faint groan falling from dry petals.
Everything was stupid, he thought. From the way he was so stupidly infatuated with his idiot partner to how he so badly wanted to kiss his idiot partner and why his heart and conscious were agreeing on teasing him with these utterly stupid feelings and fantasies. When did he start feeling this way? How? Why? Deidara wasn't completely sure despite how many sleepless nights he spend trying to figure it all out.
"Of all the people," he muttered, brushing his finger tips over the crisp and cold wall, "why Tobi?" Black ash coated the digits, a smudge of stone shining through where it had been previously settled. Like shooting stars, the cold stone glittered back at the gemstone eyes. Focused on the pretty surface that seemed to be judging him so, the artist tried to come with some form of logic or reason behind his not so sudden interest with the idiot of Akatsuki.
It certainly wasn't for his outstanding intelligence. Tobi wasn't the brightest light bulb around. For his lack of book smarts, he had that of a carefree personality and a little more common sense than he let on, but lacked capability for deep or complex conversations. He was always a few steps behind the others in the organization, especially in Deidara's battle strategies or tactics.
He was loud, incredibly so. The idiot blabbered and rambled nonstop about how pretty the flowers were or how nice it was to sleep in a tree when the sun was high and raining sunshine down for him to bask in (despite him wearing more clothes than anyone Deidara's ever met which odd for sunbathing). It wasn't his social skills either, though the artist will reluctantly admit that the idiot was able to talk to people easier than he was (in terms of not purposefully upsetting or teasing, Deidara certainly won in that department).
Tobi didn't understand art at all and that thought made chapped lips fold downwards into a small frown. Tobi didn't appreciate the thousands of people who fell victim to such beauty, not the mark it left when the dust and rubble settled. He wasn't happy with the blood painting the grass in such a contrasting way as the complimentary colors blended together nor did he enjoy the smell of charred flesh filling the air and and clouding lungs like a toxic gas. He couldn't, maybe even wouldn't, appreciate the fleeting beauty of every explosion, ever puff of smoke, every scream ringing loudly in their ears for hours after the Earth had settled.
Once again the artist is on his back, baby blues now focusing on the darkness above as his thoughts change. Tobi might not be the brightest, but he was definitely the best person he knew. Despite the bombers reputation and love of destruction and violence, he admire Tobi for being something he's not or could ever be (or would want to be, on that note). He was funny, Deidara thought with a slight roll of his eyes. the elder was always puling pranks or cracking jokes, all in attempt to get the artist out of a foul mood rather than his previous reasoning of irritating him to no end. He's goofy, silly. It was refreshing, really, with all the morbid and destructive people in the Akatsuki. to have someone with such an innocent was a small stress reliever.
A bottom fold was taken in between pearls at the next thought. Tobi was good looking, definitely so. Being his partner certainly had its perks. Under all the dark clothing and concealing fabric, Tobi was fit. He was built and toned, his muscles smaller than those of Kisame, per say, but definitely visible through the black undershirt he wore under the heavy garb. On one occasion or so, he'd been fortunate enough, or unfortunate depending, to catch him fresh out of the shower.
Gemstones are hidden as eyes fall shut to the memory of dew dripping and softly softly rolling down the curves and dips of muscles, over the mysterious scars, and down under the fluffy material covering the rest of that delicious porcelain skin and dark hair. Deidara had spent a good four hours in his room that day, door locked.
It was above all of those things, he knew. Tobi was something special and he hadn't quite figured out what exactly made him as such. Something about the tall male had drawn him in. The mystery, the way he had always cared. Maybe that was it, Deidara considered. He had always cared and that was something the blond had never been familiar with. Caring of any sort was foreign to the bomber and perhaps that was one of the many things that drew him into the masked nin in an odd sort of way. It was comforting, strange, but comforting.
Perhaps it was a mix of all these things, flaws and all, that made Tobi so damn interesting and annoying at the same time. Deidara wanted to know everything, yet keep his ears deaf to all the elder said. He wanted to let him in and accept whatever sort of emotions he felt towards the other yet keep him away and shut the door tightly.
Another sigh, another mental wonder of why he had to have a stupid, silly crush on such a person. As sunlight started to pool in from the little holes peaking through the cracks in the stone walls, Deidara nervously sat up, his sleep deprived mind buzzing with butterfly breaths and swimming in what felt like tar. His legs swung over the creaky bed slowly, a nervous lump being swallowed after.
It was time. He had told himself prior that when sunshine was visible through the darkness of the cave, he'd gather courage, no matter how small of an amount, and finally tell him. These feelings had to stop, they had to be confronted, the something other than being shoved into an overflowing bottle in locked in his heart.
He needed help, these feelings were new and dangerous to an unpredictable teenager who's never felt such things before. In any other situation, Deidara would have simply blown the feelings away like flower petals in a summery field or forgotten them like a dying star. But to have to see the cause of his problems and heartache everyday, to have to touch him or speak to him, it was a new kind of torture. He was tired of the headaches, the sweaty palms, the butterflies beating their wings roughly against his rib cage and up his esophagus, the constant dreams of too many emotions tied into them that he woke up sick. Deidara was done.
So fucking done.
He had to tell yell, cry, something, to get this terrible feeling out of his system. If he dealt with the problem and confronted it as it needed to be, it would go away, right? Or so he'd been told, it's never been a method the arsonist has tried before. He was more opt to destroy the issue rather than calmly discuss or deal. But this was different and blowing Tobi into a pile of ash was not the answer, he knew that much.
So a kiss, a simple kiss to get his message across. It made sense, at least to the blond. A kiss was a direct way to get his feelings to show to the other without the sappy wording and descriptive way of how hot Tobi made the younger. Save the embarrassment, get it over with as quickly as it had started. Confront and leave. It was simple, it would get rid of these terrible emotions and sick feelings, right?
With a deep breath and a swing of his legs, the blond swallowed a nervous lump, gold brows furrowed in a determination with his mind set on finally being done with all this shit Tobi had been pouring on him like a thick, suffocating syrup. Bare feet slapped against the chilly stone flooring, chill bumps dancing across freckled shoulders and thin arms, the comfort of his warm room leaving as he padded through the hallways.
Silk gold brushed ans swung against the curve of his lower back, a wave of uncertainty fluttering up his spine (or was it the cold? Deidara wasn't sure at this point with a mind so foggy) as he stood face with a large door. obsidian polished nails lightly raced the shiny metal doorknob, lips pressed together lightly for a moment. A sigh, a mental kick to get himself back into gear, and a twist and shove of a knob and door, a loud,
"Tobi!" echoed through the hallway and in the small room that belonged to the cause of his teenage hormones going wild. A crystal eye darted around the brightly lit single bedroom, over the wood dresser, across the outline of a closed closet, finally settled on the slumped over male on the large bed. Half of a swirly orange mask faced him in question, ungloved hands pausing their previous task of slipping a sandal on a pale foot.
Stomping over to the bed, face screwed up in what appeared to be anger rather than the burst of confidence or motivation, Deidara stopped directly in front of his partner, cheeks dusted rose as his hands rested on curvy hips.
"Senpai?" Tobi reeled back a little, hands coming up to guard what was expected to be an attack. "I didn't do it!" was heard from the elder, the normally annoyingly high pitched voice sexily deeper than normal as the orange mask was currently slid to the side. Parted porcelain lips were exposed, the gorgeous deep groves on the otherwise flawless cheek poking out from behind the orange and black covering.
It made his mouth water and head swim.
"There's something I have to tell you, hm!" The artist shouts, bending over slightly, just barely tall enough to have to slouch his head down to look at the other male.
"What're you do-" Another back up from the elder, but Deidara was already leaning downwards lips parting slightly. His hands rested on Tobi's knees for support, his own slender ones pushing against the silk sheets of the warm bed. "D-Deidara!" Just before gemstone eyes fell shut, said male caught sight of trembling pale folds, recently wetted, he noted, contrasting so beautifully against the suddenly flushed red cheeks.
He moved quickly, scared he'd back out the last minute and end up in an awkward situation with even more awful feelings twisting his gut. Their noses bumped gently, making the younger flush slightly in embarrassment, but neither commented on the little mishap. Deidara also noted that Tobi's hands were resting on his shoulders, not pushing him away, but firmly pulling him closer with the smallest twitch. Lips met softly, the blond head tilting slightly to further press the two together.
Their first kiss wasn't anything special. There weren't fireworks in arrays of color and size, there were no rainbows or sunshine. Deidara felt like throwing up, on the contrary, his stomach flipping and flopping around and around. His knees were shaking, his thighs trembled, his breath was caught in his throat, sure he'd forgotten how to breathe. Thankfully, Tobi seemed to be in the same position as bare hands were visibly quivering on his shoulders, the satin locks threaded between the digits tightly in the strong grip.
They shared a small kiss, though it was filled with every ill and terrible feeling he'd been having as of late. Every late night of dreaming of false happiness that left him in a sweaty mess the next morning, every voice in his head telling him worthless and unworthy he was of someone so sweet and kind, every broken, dry sob that left his mouth in attempt to shut these feelings were pored into the firm kiss. Lips didn't mold together, they didn't sweetly overlay. It was small. Long, meaningful, and passionate, but small.
"I think you're an idiot. But I can't stop thinking about you and it's driving me mad and I don't know what to do anymore," Deidara murmurs lips brushing against the others. "I want it to stop. I hate these feelings you give me." Another soft kiss as equally shaky breaths fluttered against two sets of dusty pink cheeks. "I want to make them go away but I don't know how, hm."
Tobi exhaled with a trembling sigh, his nose softy nuzzled against the tanned one. they were quiet for a moment, skin ablaze, hearts pounding louder than any dream or wish.
"Please make it stop," Deidara whispers, pale lashes fluttering against a scarred cheek. "I feel sick, I feel like burning up when you touch me, I want to run when you get too close." A thick swallow was heard from the elder. "I want to die if it means getting these terrible feelings out of me, hm."
Another kiss.
Another soft exhale.
Another kiss.
"How do you feel now?" Deidara didn't know, he wasn't sure if there were words to describe the pain in his chest and the unpleasant sick feelings in his gut. His head was murky like swamp water, his heart clouded over with a thick fog.
"Light headed, like I've been flying too fast for too long," he finally says, barely above a murmur followed by a sweet overlay of petals, definitely different than the first. "My legs won't stop shaking, I feel like I'm going to fall, hm." He felt the smallest twitch of smiles against his mouth.
"Senpai," Tobi says his tight grip loosening to a sweet and gentle touch on his shoulders, the little stars being covered by long digits. "I think you already have."