I'll Do Foul Play If You'll Be Foul
Disclaimer: I do not own SasoDei, or Deidara, or Sasori, or any aspect of Naruto. Or any fanfic pairing either. All these things are spawned in my mind, and I wish they would continue to spawn, for the sake of my friends who I write this for.
(Of course, my boyfriend hates yaoi. Any normal straight-guy does...)
His foot stopped the door as he scowled at his backpack. It ALWAYS got caught in the doorway! He was going to be late for that damndable art class once more, with it's pencil art and stupid little teacher called Miss. Mousey. In fact, he didn't mind being late at all. He HATED Miss. Mousey.
Enter the life of Deidara Hatsuni, age seventeen, senior classman at The High Institute of Arts. It was just another day in his life.
As he was struggling (now admittably half-heartedly) with the bag, a red-head had started down the stairs. He looked semi-sleepy, hauling a backpack along with him. He swung the door open...
And SMACK.
Deidara let out a howl of pain, reeling back. "Ow, un!" He said, holding his now bleeding nose.
Sasori Negata, age eighteen, senior classman at The High Institute of Arts, was standing on the other side of the door. He was now awake, and as he opened the door to see his actually good-looking neighbor holding his bleeding nose, he couldn't help letting a comment slip past himself.
"Looking at those dirty magazines again, Deidara-san?"
Deidara looked ready to roar, letting his hands fall from his admittably hurting nose. He stopped mid-anger, all of it draining into a very pale expression.
"Ahaha.. Sasori-no-danna..." Deidara sweatdropped. "No.. You knocked me in the face with the door, un."
Sasori blinked, looking at said offending door, before letting it swing shut. "Why where you standing infront of it?" He snapped, now in an agitated mood as he handed Deidara a tissue for his still bleeding profusely nose. He had stayed up all last night, and was in a very, very bad mood. Ontop of that, his backpack was nearly bursting at the seams with homework.
"Well, un. My backpack got stuck in it, yeah." Deidara explained, letting the napkin soak up the blood. Now he had a good excuse for being late! His dorm neighbor busted his nose with a door! Dei was a drama queen in all aspects of the stereotype. He pulled loosely at his shirt, semi-stained with blood.
Sasori noticed this, and grumbled slightly. He pulled out his extra gym shirt, shoving it at Deidara with an annoyed expression. "Now hurry up, we're late!" He brushed past Dei, heading toward the campus with a huff. Sasori was in, as stated before in previous paragraphs, a very bad mood... and his backpack weighed a friggin' ton.
Deidara ran one hand through his long hair, taking off the shirt, slipping Sasori's gym one on, and then racing after him. "Wait up, un!"
Just another day in the life of Deidara.
.f.i.x.m.e.i.m.b.r.o.k.e.n.