Disclaimer: I do NOT own Naruto, nor do I own Deidara, or Sasori (As much as I would like to they belong to Kishimoto)

Warning!: This story contains, naughty situations involving two men, and maybe some naughty language. if that offends you, kindly fuck off. If not enjoy!

Brat's rambles: My lovely wife, Black55widow challenged me to write romance! with no kinky! So yes darling, I accept! This seems like it will be a much more difficult challenge, sadly the last one seemed just too easy...*Sigh* So this is for you wifey-poo!

(This is going to be hard...and a bit emo , brat is feeling detached )

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Comfortably Numb

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My hands trembled as I held the scalpel to wrist, my breath was shallow.

My skin drenched in sweat, I almost couldn't breathe, every labored cotton mouthed gulp making the bile in the back of my throat rise higher. As I made the first cut, dragging the blade up my arm and peeling away the skin.

Even through the antithetic I was using I could feel the pressure as I pulled every strip from my arm. Using the technique I had perfected over many years.

This was my escape from it all.

The pain of reality.

Slicing the last bit of flesh from around my elbow I choked back the bile. Through the countless times I have done this to others it had never made me react like this. Watching my own living muscle contort and pulse exposed to the air, was making me ill.

I couldn't feel a thing, but I felt it all.

Like a burning in my spine, the nervous feeling your body gets when you know that something is horribly wrong with what is happening.

It's only natural, an instinct I chose to ignore. I put it out of my mind, pausing to inject my arm with more of the sweet numbing liquid I had created especially for this glorious day.

The day of my metamorphosis.

I marveled at how my muscle hardened, stiffening as I preformed my justu. Applying it to the discarded skin on the table and watching as it became unbreakable. Solid and hard, like my whole being would become soon enough.

Picking it up I examined it in the light, noting the sort of texture and consistency it had become, reassigning my scalpel to shape it to fit back over my arm. Screwing it in tightly, perfecting each and every joint.

This was merely a test, to see if I could withstand such a true artistic masterpiece, if I were ready for enlightenment.

It took me two days to finely tune and perfect my arm.

It took two months for me to get half way through the rest of my body. A slow grueling painful process, in the end all to be rid of pain.

Everything comes with a price, fortunately all of the pain in the world was nothing compared to what would be the bliss of finally being at peace, forever. I have always craved eternity.

I still remember the pain, even if it has been over twenty years since I've felt it.

My inability to feel is something that my partner, Deidara cannot seem to comprehend. He's constantly pushing my resolve, trying to make me crack. I am not so easily broken.

This constant attention stems from his pointless fascination with me. He loves me he says.

Why?

That seems to be what I can't comprehend.

I feel nothing, I care for nothing but my art, and still he pines for my touch.

I will never understand human nature, I have evolved far beyond the need for such useless things.

The concept of love seems completely illogical to me. Why purposefully cause yourself pain? Why knowingly put your heart in harms way?

Hoping that your feelings are returned, tossing turning, starving yourself. All just to say you love someone. I've never needed anyone but myself.

So why now, does someone need me?

Passion, hatred, these are things that I understand.

It's almost inspiring that he's so passionate about every little thing he does, everything he makes himself believe. He is unique, and I respect that. I will never deny that Deidara is beautiful, almost in the way I find women beautiful.

Perfectly carved, down to every little detail. A level of mastery that I have always envied.

Maybe it was with his wanton and wily beauty that he persuaded me into this. He has an odd way of getting what he wants. Again, I really don't see the point, why bother to persuade me, if I will never return the feelings he holds?

I will never feel it when he drapes his arms over my shoulders, those long slender fingers fiddling lazily with the clasps of my cloak.

I only know he's kissed my cheek because I watch him move, I hear the sound of his lips connecting with what used to be flesh.

It won't make my heart race when I see those perfectly blue eyes glimmer with that devious shine of desire.

I won't feel anything.

So why?

Why chase so fervently after someone like me?

He says he doesn't know why, that he just loves me.

Why can't I just accept that? He always asks, that sad pained look in his baby blue eyes.

I sigh, and wrap my arms around him, I don't see the point, but keeping him happy is easier than dealing with him otherwise. Their is no spark I feel as I give in, kissing his lips softly. He sighs, knowing this will never end the way he wants, but settling for what he has been given. Another foolish human action.

He parts his lips and I kiss him harder, letting my tongue slip into his mouth. Sometimes I ponder what he tastes like. He moans against my lips, rubbing his body against mine voicing his need to me with every movement he makes. I let him grab my hand and slide it down his body to grip his erection, grinding it against my hand.

I can never seem to say no when we come to this point. His hands are robbing me of my clothing faster than I can speak.

Dragging me from my seated position by my precariously hanging cloak to shove me down to his bed, ridding me of the impeding article completely.

His fingers phantom delicately over my exposed chest. The look in his eyes saying it all.

Can you feel me?

I stare up at him solemnly, trying my best to look apologetic, he knows that I can't. But as I said he never seems to grasp the concept of my inabilities.

He looks down at me with hurt clear in those stormy eyes, and I almost feel a pang of regret.

That's about the only thing I ever feel these days, it stings deep inside my human core, a lost distant thing that barely surfaced as a murmur of its former self.

He moves his fingers to curl around my chin, looking deeply into my eyes as he kisses me softly. All the love, the passion burning behind those orbs, making my regret twitch back to life.

I just want this to be over, I want to go back to mindlessly absorbing myself in my art, remaining in my own untouchable world, at peace. Knowing Deidara, he will try to drag this out as long as possible, even if he's already so hard I know he has to be in pain.

He'll hold it until the last possible second, trying to milk the time he has for all it's worth. Making himself suffer for this so called love.

I'll never understand him. He deepens our kiss again as I try to speed things along, reaching between our bodies to rub him teasingly through the thin fabric of his pants, earning a breathy moan into our kiss in response.

Now the pace is growing to my liking, his finger hooking under the waist of my pants to pull them down. To expose my rigid manhood, the only reason I kept it being, that I still have organic parts to maintain.
I may not require as much food, or sleep as a normal human, but these parts of my body cannot function without it. I needed a way to dispose of the waste it causes, it was only logical.

Even hard, physically I only feel the pressure. There is no pleasure in this for me, save the pleasure of keeping Deidara content for long enough to get some damn work done.

Maybe that's a lie.

It is exciting, the way his cheeks flush, and his breathing becomes uneven as he moves to take me into his mouth, even if I barely feel the heat, the wetness.

I can imagine that it feels amazing. He looks up at me, watching me as he sucks me off, waiting for some twinge of something to pass my face, for my expression to change. It doesn't, and his eyes fall, as he lets me slide from his mouth.

He knows I hate to wait, grabbing my fingers and taking them where my erection was only moments ago, he sucks them tentatively. Still looking for that reaction, as always, and as always, being let down.

He moves backwards on the bed, grabbing his ankles and spreading his legs for me. That pleading lusty look on his face, the portrait of beauty that must be my reason for this madness.

I don't hesitate to find his entrance and ease my fingers inside of him, taking a good amount of time to insert them fully. This is the part of it all I hate the most, the part that takes the longest. I sigh bored as I scissor my fingers within him, tiny pangs of excitement pulsing through my chest as he spasms on the bed below me, flailing wildly as I hit that special spot deep within that tightness. This goes on for several minutes, of panting sweating and moaning before Deidara finally speaks.

"R-ready..Danna"

He pants out, letting me know that I don't have to wait any longer, he feels like he can take it.
It's his body so I ask no questions as I withdraw my fingers, positioning myself and diving in.

I know he's tight, I feel the pressure around me like a vice, it's almost uncomfortable. He bites his lips to stifle the cries that would be escaping them, when his hips begin to thrust upwards into me, I know he's adjusted, and impatient.
Slowly I thrust deeply into him, keeping a steady hard pace. He likes it slow, and hard.

It's almost like we're making love.

What a foolish idea for him to hold. I can't love him, he knows that.

I reach between our bodies to grab a hold of his neglected length, stroking him slowly in time with my movements, circling my thumb around the head in quick circles as I never faulter in my perfected pace.
Thrusting upwards quickly, I don't doubt that I've found his prostate, he rises high off of the bed, a shrill almost effeminate moan passing his bruised lips. He's getting close. His hands are gripping for something, anything to bury themselves in, needing to clutch onto something solid as his orgasm hit him.
He firmly wraps his legs around my hips, forcing me deeper inside of him as he leans up to kiss me, panting and drooling.

I claim his lips roughly kissing him. Letting him bite my lips as he convulses under me, and I know he's spilled himself making a mess of us both. The pressure around me grows more than uncomfortable, it's irritating as he rides out his orgasm, bucking into my hand, against my hips.

I make no strained lust hazed expression as I release within him, letting those tight convulsing walls milk me dry, my body mearly trembles. I grunt and withdraw from him. Letting myself fall into his waiting arms, he still hasn't unwrapped his legs from my hips.

He looks at me, caught in the afterglow of it all. There are small tears in his eyes.

"I love you Sasori-Danna, un"

I sigh and press my face into his chest, at least he can feel it. He runs his hands through my short hair lovingly, and I feel something.

Regret? Sadness?

I don't know exactly what it is, entangling my fingers in his hair, I run the digits through the long golden mane softly, looking up into his saddened teary eyes.

"I wish I could love you too"

I mean every word, and I don't regret it as they pass my lips. He smiles, and places his hand on my cheek, small tremmors wracking his body, I know they belong to the tears he's trying to hold in.

"Just promise me you won't stop wishing, un. That's enough for me"

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So it was angsty fluff. but it was still fluff dammit!

I can has cookie now?

Lol, please review, it makes brat forget about why she's sad...