This is written for a very special lady with very beautiful cosplays. Happy birthday Puppenprinzessin! Go check her out, guys! Her cosplays are seriously beautiful and she deserves a lot of love!
This story is also part of my DeiGaa trilogy, so my advice is to first read "Why are you here?" and then "Where have you been?". You really only get this one if you've read those two ;)
Please enjoy!
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The bed was cold, too cold. A memory lingered there somewhere in the sheets, even if Gaara tried his hardest to forget. It was odd to be here, on this specific evening. Sleep wouldn't come to him and it instantly took him back to the times his dreams had still been haunted by Shukaku. In some way Gaara should thank him. If he hadn't been there, Shukaku would still live inside his body, talk to him during the long nights, and drive him crazy with the hatred the beast felt. But Gaara could not thank him.
His fist tightened around the sheets, balling it up inside his hand. Frustration was coursing through his body, because this wasn't supposed to happen. Hadn't he gone through enough? And with this war about to start. Gaara didn't have much time to think at this point, but tonight was special.
Tonight was his birthday.
And it was tainted by the memory of him. He who visited him during his previous birthdays. They were only two and he never saw the guy besides those moments, but they had shared them and for the first time Gaara felt special. Of course he was quite popular now, but Gaara did not want that in life. He wanted someone to keep him with both feet firmly on the ground and that is what that guy had done for him with his mocking tone and the grins that slipped so easily on his lips.
A cold gust of wind swept through Gaara's bedroom and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he had left the window open, which was not smart during the freezing nights the village suffered from. But getting out of bed seemed like a hassle and he kind of liked the rise of goosebumps on his arms. It was a sign of him still being alive.
It hadn't taken too long before the rumours had reached him about the Akatsuki member that had blown himself up. Gaara never needed to hear a name. The full story he had never heard though, because no one fully knew. At least not the people that were on their side and if someone had known, Gaara should not have asked. The guy was dead and Gaara was supposed to be happy about that, because it meant there was one less Akatsuki member. His siblings had been delighted to hear the news. Now the bastard that had tried to murder their little brother was dead. Nothing else truly mattered. Without him the world was a safer place.
A shaky breath left his lips and he tried to swallow the big lump that had formed in his throat. He had tried to stay calm all day and be the perfect Kazekage. His people needed to see his strength now and couldn't see a young teenager pained by some lost love no one knew about. This was not the time to mourn, but Gaara did it anyway, in his bed, all by himself.
The sheets were fisted again, both hands now latching onto it. How did one really deal with this? Gaara still didn't fully understand how to properly express himself and often kept his emotions locked away. Mourning was something new too. He had felt other things. Sadness, fear, luck and happiness. But this hollow feeling he had now was different from all that. He just felt empty…
When another gust of wind blew through the room Gaara turned his head to the source. The window on the far right side of the room stood wide open, it moving slightly back and forth due to the pressure of the wind. But it was not that which caught his eye. There in the middle of the room stood a dark figure, hidden away in the shadows and this person was just staring at him. The silent way the person had entered his room told Gaara he was a practised ninja, stealth being a strong point. Somehow he did not move though, nor did he speak. Gaara simply watched the person right back, relying on the fact that his sand would always protect him.
It was just odd to have a person in his room on this particular day. Why did people feel the need to burst into his bedroom on his birthday? Was Gaara cursed to never spend his birthday alone and safe?
For a few minutes the room was completely silent while the two men just stared at each other, even if Gaara could not see the other's face, it hidden under a dark hood. Then in a slow movement the person stepped to the side towards a small table. The shadows still hid whatever the guy was doing there, until a match was lit. Gaara could hear it slide over the special carton it was provided with and then the sizzling sound as it suddenly started burning. It only gave the small spot an eerie look, not really doing anything for Gaara's vision of the room. Until the match was used to light a candle. A hand reached out for the candleholder and then the flickering light was brought up a little higher to finally shower the person's face in light. And then Gaara's breath caught in his throat.
The long blond hair cascaded down his back, the shadow of a grin once present on his lips and the bright blue eyes shining so softly in the candle's light. The only different thing was how the white of his eyes had changed into black, making the blue eyes shine even brighter than usual. It was him, there was no doubt about it and yet there was something different.
'Why are you back?' Gaara heard himself murmur. His brain hadn't even caught up to the question yet, but it was the most important thing to know. Why was Deidara back? How could he even be here or was this just some trick? Was someone fooling him with a genjutsu or something alike?
Taking the last few steps to the bed Deidara didn't reply, pushing his hood off to show more of his face. His eyes shifted to the nightstand beside Gaara's bed and he placed the candle on top of it, granting both Gaara and Deidara the use of the light. Still not uttering a word Deidara sat down on the edge of the bed. The mood felt strange. Normally the air would be filled with mocking words and half insults mixed with sweet unfitting words. Deidara's talking was something Gaara enjoyed strangely enough, but now he was not speaking. Maybe someone had muted him or someone was unable to fake Deidara's voice, immediately giving away this was a way to trick Gaara. Kankuro might come up with such a cruel birthday present, even if they were not aware of Gaara's feelings towards the suicide bomber.
Letting his eyes wander over Deidara's frame, Gaara suddenly notices the cracks in the blond's skin, as if he was made of porcelain. The need to touch it grew, so Gaara lifted up his hand, finally releasing the sheets from his firm hold, and let his fingers slide over the soft skin. It was slightly cooler than usual and he could feel the edges of the cracks, but it still felt like skin nonetheless.
Deidara had been gazing at him out of the corner of his eyes and he leaned into the touch slightly, encouraging Gaara to continue, but somehow he didn't dare. There was still something odd about all this. Especially since Deidara was still not speaking.
The shimmer in Deidara's eyes meant he noticed it too and that he understood this was odd. It only made the awkward mood rise up more and more. This could still be someone else, tricking him in some kind of weird game they were playing. It wasn't the time for that though. War was not something to joke about and a birthday should not be celebrated by playing cruel games like that.
And then Deidara started moving again, ever so slow as if he had all the time in the world. His hands reached up and unfastened the cloak that was draped around his shoulders and then he pushed it off, it pooling around his waist on the bed. He then kicked off his shoes, them flying somewhere across the room until they hid a wall. The mesh shirt was next and then lastly came the pants, all strewn around without a care, until Deidara was only left in his boxers. With more bare skin now visible Gaara could see more cracks all over his body and his skin also looked a little paler, though the candlelight could be playing tricks on him.
The sheets were pulled away and carefully Deidara crawled on top of Gaara, pulling the sheets up over them both now. The blond hair fell forward, framing Deidara's face so perfectly and Gaara was amazed by how handsome he really was. With their gazes now locked Gaara felt a shiver rising up, because he remembered a moment before when he was in such a position, having Deidara hover over him, making him feel like this frail little boy. The energy the guy had possessed was thrilling, but it wasn't as present anymore as before.
'Why are you back?' Gaara tried once more, but there was no time for a reply this time.
Moving his head down quickly Deidara instantly captured Gaara's lips in a kiss, sucking in a deep breath as soon as their lips touched. He hadn't expected that to happen and felt a dizzy wave coming up, the feel of the kiss reminding him of all those other times. This was something that couldn't be faked. This was Deidara, his Deidara. The dead Deidara. But his lips certainly felt alive as they massaged Gaara's and when the tongue came into play, sliding over Gaara's bottom lip, he could finally relax into it. It was okay. Getting a kiss from Deidara on his birthday was tradition and Gaara should cherish the fact that he has another chance to make it all worth it.
Sliding his arms around Deidara's neck, Gaara made sure the suicide bomber stayed right in position, but his body started craving more already. A kiss was not the only tradition they had on his birthday. Rocking his hips back and forth slightly he showed his want to Deidara, half making peace with the fact he still didn't know why Deidara was here in the first place and how. That could be asked later. He could prioritize this now.
Unfortunately Deidara wasn't as cooperative. Didn't respond with hips pushing back, nor did he let his hands roam all over Gaara's body, showing his want to the Kazekage. Gaara wanted more than this. Why wouldn't Deidara touch him properly, make him feel amazing on his birthday? The frustration was sliding right back into Gaara's body, anger now slowly rising up to accompany it. What the hell was wrong with Deidara? Why wouldn't he continue this and touch him?
Unlinking his arms from behind Deidara's neck, Gaara firmly placed a hand against Deidara's chest, giving him a rough push to the side and then he quickly climbed on top of the suicide bomber, switching places effectively. The sheets slid down from their bodies, leaving the cold air to freeze up their bodies this way, but the heated glare Gaara sent Deidara's way might do wonders.
'Why are you back?' he gritted out this time, his annoyance getting more and more visible.
The thin lips tightened on Deidara's face and Gaara could see them trembling slightly. It looked odd and Gaara now wished more than ever that those lips would pull up and show off a big grin that mocked Gaara's entire question and behaviour in a whole, but it never came up. It took a whole minute and a deep breath before Deidara finally said something in response and the low timbre of his voice sent a shiver down Gaara's spine. 'Because, it's your birthday,' he started and then added the mock, but deep down Gaara could hear the respect staining his voice and it sent another thrill through his body. 'My lord.'
That explanation wasn't enough. His birthday was not something magical that would make Deidara come back to life. Some kind of jutsu had been used. Granny Chiyo crossed his mind for a second, but then he realised Deidara did not look the same like he did. Deidara wasn't completely alive, at least that's what Gaara thought. The black eyes, the cracks in his skin. It was a dark jutsu, something that fitted the male well. 'That's not…' But his sentence got caught off by soft lips and Gaara felt himself giving in to it. Maybe it was better to not ask questions. Better to be left unknowing. And Deidara's lips were relentless, moving over Gaara's, enticing him in giving more.
Finally hands slid over his skin, moving from his sides down to his boxers, the only garment he had been wearing this night, and then fingers slipped under slightly, teasing the warm skin. With a sigh Gaara let himself relax on top Deidara, because he would at least get what he wanted on his birthday. Thumbs hooked under the waistband of his boxers and then they were shimmied down his hips. Impatience struck Gaara when the garment wasn't taking off fast enough, so he reached down to assist Deidara and then kicked of the boxers in the end, glad to be freed from them. When he turned back to Deidara though, he noticed something odd.
His whole body had gone rigid, as if something heavy was pressing against his chest to keep him down. The blue of his irises had darkened considerably and the lips were set in a firm line. 'Slowly, my lord,' he gritted out between clenched teeth.
Sitting up Gaara watched Deidara for a minute, and then decided it was better to continue on, slowly. Asking questions would come later. So instead he let his hands flutter down Deidara's bare torso, ignoring the stitched up mouth on his chest, and then reached the hem of Deidara's boxers. He pulled them down ever so slow, taking his time like he hadn't done before and as Gaara slipped back up, he could see Deidara relaxing again, sinking deeper into the bed and closing his eyes as Gaara's hands touched closer and closer between his legs.
When Gaara reached Deidara's dick and give it a few strokes to make it fully come to life, which was good, because his body seemed to function properly still, he let his sand move towards the drawer of his nightstand. A wave of sand eventually brought over a little bottle Gaara had gotten himself and placed it on the bed. Deidara had been eyeing the sand suspiciously and Gaara could see the rigidness coming right back to Deidara's body, but with every stroke to his erection, it ebbed away again. It was strange to see him so unfocused, but it also made Gaara happy he had this kind of effect on Deidara.
The sand slipped down from the bed again, disappearing onto the floor and only then did Deidara slowly reach for the little bottle. The cap was opened and then he let the cool gel slip into his fingers, rubbing it over every single digit. Gaara was watching with anticipation, because it had again been so long and the first few thrusts always hurt, but after that came the pleasure and he wanted to feel it so badly.
One hand was brought around his hips and moved to his ass, sliding down his crack a few times to tease the little puckered hole. The other hand moved to the front and grabbed a hold of Gaara's length, giving it a few long and slow strokes to distract Gaara a little. The first finger was always an odd feeling and this would make it all easier. So Deidara slipped the digit in, earning a low groan from Gaara.
Everything happened so slowly. The finger that moved back and forth inside of him, sliding around his walls to feel everything so deep inside of him, the way Deidara was stroking his erection with even movements, and then together with Deidara's slow and calm breathing it all got a little too much. Gaara wanted to hurry things along, it all happening faster than this. To see Deidara lose control and take advantage of Gaara the way he liked to.
But the second finger joined in far too late, scissoring Gaara in several ways until he couldn't take it anymore. The teasing of his soft walls, making him push back more and more, because it felt so good and the lewd noises he made could be a trigger for one of the guards to come in. But keeping them in wasn't as easy. And with the way Deidara was staring up at him, watching his every move, it didn't make it any better.
'Please, just fuck me already,' Gaara whined, not understanding the slow approach they were taking on this. It never was like this before.
The fingers halted deep inside of him and Deidara simply stared at him for a few seconds until he finally spoke up again, but his words seemed restrained. 'You are on top, my lord. I believe you're the one in control.' And that sudden realisation hit Gaara square in the face. He was indeed on top, so he could just have Deidara take him whenever he wanted it to happen. So he pushed his hips up, letting the fingers slide from his body and then immediately positioned himself above Deidara's length. 'Just take it slow, my lord,' Deidara added right before Gaara let himself sink down on Deidara's cock.
Gaara did take it slow, the sting of the first few thrusts rising up right in his ass already. But he pushed on until he was comfortably sitting on Deidara's hips. Taking a moment to get used to the feeling of being filled up again, Gaara just sat there, staring down at Deidara. 'Sit up a little,' he breathed out and Deidara instantly complied, pushing the pillows up to sit up against them. The movement made both males groan out and then Gaara started moving. Sliding up as far as he could until only the head of Deidara's cock was inside of him and then slowly pushing back down. He took on the pace Deidara wanted and with the way the guy was shivering, Gaara knew he was doing a good job.
It was wonderful to see someone come undone like that. The shaky arms reaching for Gaara's ass, pushing the cheeks apart to make the movement more fluid. The blue eyes that were almost closed as pleasure coursed through the bomber's body. And then the sounds. Soft groans spilling from Deidara's lips, stretched out to accompany every thrust Gaara gave. It was all so perfect and Gaara loved that he was able to do this to Deidara. The control, the power. The "my lord" was no longer a mockery now, or so it felt. Deidara could use those words all he wanted, fuelling Gaara's need only more.
The sight of it all made Gaara throw his arms around Deidara's neck and pull him in for another kiss, together with picking up the pace a little. He couldn't keep doing this slow routine. He wanted to feel Deidara's length brush deep inside of him, forcing its way in to touch so far. And this time Deidara didn't go rigid, but stayed calm, though his nails dug deep into the flesh of his ass cheeks, leaving bruises for the next morning to deal with. The sensation only pushed Gaara on and he moved even faster now, snapping himself down harshly on Deidara's cock. He could hardly contain the noises that were slipping off his own lips, them mixing in with the kiss. It turned sloppy quite fast, tongues slipping out of their mouths more often and drool trickling down between their chins. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered now, except for the feeling Deidara gave him.
Gaara's movements were turning erratic and he suddenly realised it was quite tiring to keep up this pace continuously, but Deidara was there to help out. Lifting up his hips slightly he was able to thrust up into Gaara and thankfully he took on the same pace Gaara had used. Pounding into him now Gaara was pushed up more and more, only to fall right back down roughly. The kiss had to be broken now and the sounds were leaving him earnestly now. Shouting his pleasure to the ceiling Gaara threw his head back and let the pleasure course through his body as Deidara thrust harder and harder into him. He was merciless.
And soon he couldn't take it anymore. Deidara was touching him in all the right ways and when a hand reached between their bodies to stroke his weeping cock that had been bouncing there completely neglected, Gaara could feel his orgasm building. The warmth soared through his veins, trying to find a place to come out of. The broken moans that were now leaving him were almost pathetic, but he didn't care. Gaara was almost sobbing, this feeling building up something he never wanted to miss out on again, but there was only one who could make him feel this way.
Then it finally hit him. Burying his head inside the crook of Deidara's neck he let the last drawn out moan leave his lips, his hips moving back and forth shakily. His seed had spilled all over Deidara's hand and abdomen, the remains of his orgasm left there.
Without a warning Deidara then flipped their bodies around, switching their positions back to where they once were. His length had never left Gaara's body, still snuggled deep inside of him. The flip sent another wave through Gaara's body and he shivered a little afterwards, but Deidara paid it no mind. He started thrusting again, a pace slower than before. With even thrusts he moved in and out, taking his time to reach his own end point.
Gaara took this opportunity to simply watch Deidara. Watch the blue eyes blink slowly down at him, forever focused on what Gaara was doing. The lips a swollen red, parted to let out soft groans of pleasure. One hand was twisted inside Gaara's hair, pulling at the red strands slightly. The other hand was on Gaara's leg, pushing it up a little to give him extra room to move. Having this man hover above him, feel pleasure because of him, was such a great gift on this special day. The fact that Deidara was back already was extraordinary and Gaara could only hope that this time was for good.
The thrusts turned erratic as Deidara finally reached his peak too, the soft groans now coming out in harsh gasps. The blue eyes were closed and with a few final thrusts Deidara pushed himself as deep as he could go, coming deep inside of Gaara. He rode out his orgasm and as soon as he was finished, Deidara pulled out his softening length, but stayed on top of Gaara. Bringing his head closer to Gaara's, the Kazekage thought they would share another kiss, but instead Deidara moved his lips closer to Gaara's ear.
'More like me are coming, my lord. Brought back from the dead and controlled by someone else,' he whispered. 'I was sent here to assassinate you, but his control is not as strong yet. But it will be, my lord. Prepare for it.'
The confession made Gaara's eyes widen, because what did that exactly mean? Brought back from the dead and controlled by someone? This was something they needed to discuss. Gaara needed to know more before he could even warn someone. And who was this he Deidara was talking about? But Deidara was already moving away from Gaara, stepping out of the bed to get redressed. No sweet words were shared and it was as if the moment had just been over.
But Deidara knew better. Being here was a big risk. At any point could he lash out and attack Gaara without a warning. Every sudden movement Gaara had made, had triggered some kind of defence mechanism inside of him, wanting to start a fight and obliterate Gaara. It had taken every bit of power inside of him to not strike. Even the words he wanted to speak were not as easy and could be stopped at any moment, but he had explained what he could. Deidara didn't know much either, but this should be enough, or so he thought.
'I'm sorry I can't stay, my lord, but it's not safe,' Deidara added as he put on his cloak again, lifting the hood up to hide his features again. The candle on the nightstand had almost burned out and was flickering harshly inside the dimmed room. They shared one last long look and Gaara felt dread tugging at his heart, knowing what might come next.
'I wish you could stay,' he muttered.
Deidara nodded in reply and then moved back to the opened window, placing one foot against the windowsill to jump out easily. Granting himself one last look at Gaara he let a soft smile grace his lips. 'Happy birthday, Gaara,' Deidara murmured and then jumped, landing on top of his clay birds right outside of Gaara's bedroom.
Gaara didn't watch Deidara leave. It would be too final then. This was officially the last time. And no sweet words were shared, no confessions of feelings, nothing. But they were right at the tip of Gaara's tongue.
I love you
Characters © Masashi Kishimoto
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