"Danna… you awake, un…?"
"Of course I'm awake, brat. I don't sleep; puppet, remember?"
"Oh, yeah, you're right, un."
"… So what'd you want, then?"
"Oh… nothing really, un. I just… couldn't sleep."
"… and …?"
"I mean, because it's too cold in here… when it gets too hot, or too cold, I can't really --"
"… Get over here then, and stop your whining."
Six point seven-two-three seconds later, the blond has dove underneath the blankets next to his partner, lying down although the elder is sitting. "Thanks, Danna, un." He mumbles, turning over to press against the puppeteer's side, one hand moving up to rest on the redhead's thigh.
"Go to sleep, brat." He murmurs tiredly, his tone suggesting sleep is a good idea, and that he doesn't quite feel like doing anything else.
The blond in question only looks up sleepily, not really intending anything more, either.
"Night, Danna, un."
-x-x-x-x-x-
"Look! There, un!"
"Hn. That is your version of art? Terrible."
"… No! It is not, un! It's beautiful, and everyone in this village will remember it, un!"
Sasori begins to say something, but after looking up at his blond partner, who is standing tall and proud on his clay bird, he only sighs and turns his attention to the blinding fireworks. Tonight, and tonight only, he will humor the blond. And that will only happen because he is amused at the fact that they are exploding things over Iwagakure.
Truly, they won't forget it -- one of their own coming back on a giant bird of clay, dropping bomb after bomb to nearly level the village.
When Sasori peers over the edge of the bird, he immediately backs up, back onto the bird, his lip curling in distaste. He doesn't exactly enjoy heights, but he isn't about to start complaining, either. At the feeling of an arm wrapping around him, Sasori looks up, into the shining face of his elated blond partner.
"Don't worry, Sasori no Danna, you're safe up here, with me, un."
-x-x-x-x-x-
Being sneaky when your life was on the line is one thing, and Deidara is now learning that being sneaky when your life is not on the line is rather hard. In his left hand, the blond has small box, in his right, one of his little clay spiders, ready for detonation.
Sneaking down the corridor, Deidara pauses outside the room he shares with Sasori, and drops the tiny spider with a quiet 'katsu!'.
Pressing back against the wall while the small explosion occurrs, he waits for the door to open before slinking in, dropping off the box and creeping back out, quickly disappearing.
Sasori, having not found the obvious culprit, grumbles and went back in the room, stopping to stare at the box.
As if expecting it to be a trap, he slowly reaches out and just touches it. Deciding it is safe, he opens the top and carefully pulls out the contents.
Inside are two clumsily-strung marionette puppets. They are awkward to move, but when he looks at the figures, he finds appreciation. They are crafted from clay, and intricately detailed -- one in his likeness, one in his partners. He gently sets them aside, and peers back into the box, pulling out a small, folded piece of paper.
'Happy birthday, Danna!'
For the first time in years, he lets a genuine smile cross his face.
-x-x-x-x-x-
"It's my birthday, Danna, un." The words are husky as he whispers in the smaller's ear slowly, slightly parted pink lips dangerously close to soft, creamy skin. One hand trails down the redhead's side to stop three quarters of the way down, around his navel, and the blond is pulling back, his blue eyes locking with the other's maroon ones.
"And? That means?" He asks, trying to be nonchalant, but really, he just wants Deidara closer again. Not that he'll admit that, of course; no, that will never happen. So he keeps his voice smooth and cold, not meeting eyes.
"You do what I tell you to do, un… for all of today." The bomber demands, pushing Sasori onto the bed that is behind them, inviting and tempting and just waiting for the two. The puppeteer is caught by surprise, and he makes the mistake of allowing that to appear in his expression, and Deidara can only smirk at this, while his hands begin to trail down the hem of the other's shirt. Lifting the material, Deidara easily slides the bothersome piece of clothing off the smaller man's frame, and his head immediately dips down, teeth catching on a perked nipple.
"… Brat," Sasori complains (although he'll never say it is a complaint -- he doesn't complain, and besides, he won't see why he's complaining; it feels so damn good) closing his eyes nonetheless, as his hands move to relieve Deidara of his own shirt, and he reaches up to his partner's shoulder, laying a light kiss there before the blond's left hand sneaks underneath the waistband on the redhead's pants, and Sasori can only tense slightly at his fingernail brushes against a certain, sensitive spot, and from that one movement, things escalate quickly.
Hours later, Deidara lies next to his lover, energy finally spent, eyes closing although a satisfied smirk remains on his sweat-streaked, coloured face.
"'S not really my birthday, un."
Chuckle.
"Oh, I know, brat. It's not for another two months."
--
an: finally! my birthdaygiftfic for jasmine :D
well there it is. um. i dunno. i'm just terrible
at dear saso. X.x but yeah. it's switchy, since
i know you like uke!saso, jazzy haha. well,
i hope you liked it, andd, thanks for reading!