I do not own anything. This story contains mentions of domestic abuse and man whoriness (if you couldn't tell by the title). You have been warned. I hope you enjoy this story!
Sasori counts. He always has, he always will. His parents died seven years, two months, and three days ago. In thirty-one weeks and two days this school year will end. He has had sex with forty-nine different people. So far.
He enjoys seducing large amounts of people. It's a trait he learned from his grandmother. For an old lady, she is real promiscuous. However, he attends a private school. He likes the school, it's a good one, but it's small, and gossip spreads fast.
Everybody knows of his active sex life, and while he maintains his current 'sluts', he finds it impossible to earn anymore. Not that he cares too much. The students at the private school are good-looking, but there's little variety. They nearly all look the same: designer shirt, jeans, and trainers. The girls have long hair, the boys have it short, and in limited styles and dull colours. Boring.
But today is different. There is colour amongst the drab. Today, for the very first time ever, they have a scholarship student. Too poor to afford the school, he got in on his grades alone. High scores, he has never gotten less than a 90. He's smart, and Sasori expects a quiet book worm to appear in front of their class, trying to hide behind the teacher. He never expected this.
He is blonde, with really long hair. Longer than some of the girls' hair, it reaches his upper back. His visible eye is blue, and burning with defiance. He is daring them to try and mess with him, warning that he will not let himself be pushed around. And what he's wearing, so exotic to these designer children, so strange. Baggy black hiking trousers, scuffed at the bottom by his combat boots. A mesh shirt covered by a black mid-riff shirt. He introduces himself as Deidara, un. A speech defect. They all stare at him, he's so weird. Sasori smirks. Weird, but he's hot.
"Just sit in a free seat"
There are three unoccupied seats. One, next to shy Hinata Hyuuga. The other next to quiet Itachi Uchiha. And the last one is by him, Sasori. Everybody just knows. If he's straight, he'll sit by Hinata. Gay, he'll sit by Itachi. He won't sit by Sasori. No one does. They can't keep up with Sasori's banter, so the other students avoid him. He has friends, of course, just not very close ones. Not that it matters, he doesn't really like the people here anyway, they're all so boring, so predictable. Like his puppets.
They're watching him, wondering what he will do, how they will categorise him. Whether he senses this or not, Sasori doesn't know, but the blonde confidently strides over to the back, over to him, gracefully sliding into the seat next to him.
"Hey, I'm Deidara."
"I'm Sasori."
The boy nods at him, turning back to the front of the classroom. Strange, generally people would be drooling by now.
"You know, you're really hot."
"Yeah, cause there's no air conditioning in this shit hole."
He frowns, upset that the other doesn't understand the meaning, and then he sees it: Deidara is smirking. He knows full well what the statement means, he's playing with him.
"That's cause this place is hell. Way monotonous."
"Exactly why I sat next to you. Those other two look boring, no offense to them, un."
Sasori feels like laughing, finally someone fun to mess with.
"So where do you live?"
"You wouldn't know."
"I would if you showed me."
"Not gonna happen."
"Aw, you're mean."
"And you're a man whore."

Deidara always shrugs him off when he tries slinging his arm over the smaller boys' shoulders. But today, when he does it for the thirty-fourth time since they met, the blonde just sighs and accepts it. Inside his head, Sasori is grinning like a Cheshire cat. Outside his head...He is grinning like a Cheshire cat.

The limit for asking another to enter some form of relationship with him is ten. He set himself this limit a long time ago, and has stuck to it ever since. But now, here he is asking Deidara out for the eleventh time. He doesn't know why, but for some reason he just can't let the boy go. He has to have him, has to! By some stroke of luck, Deidara hasn't left him. It's strange, different for someone to stick around longer than a week, especially with the flirting, but he's not questioning Deidara's choice. He enjoys hanging out with the blonde, even though they don't do the things he normally enjoys. Deidara isn't like the other kids here; he can actually hold his own when talking with Sasori. His wit matches the red heads; they just get along together perfectly.
It's ironic that they have their first and only big fight the same day. Deidara, after much confusion, is finally transferred into the Higher Art class. The same art class as Sasori. Who could've predicted the results? Deidara's view on art is very much opposed to Sasori's. In fact, their views are the complete opposite of each other.
"Art is eternal."
"Nope. It's fleeting, un."
"Eternal."
"Fleeting."
The rest of the class watches on in horror and shock. Sasori is the master artist here, the only one with a passion for art and a clear view of what it is. He has never been challenged like this before.
"Eternal!"
"Fleeting!"
"Eternal!"
"Fleeting!"
"Eternal!"
"Fleeting and I'll prove it!"
Deidara takes the clay sculpture he'd just made, the one that took him do long, lifts it above his head and flings it to the floor. It shatters, the brilliantly coloured ceramic shards scattering around the blondes feet.
"That is true art, un!"
Sasori slaps him. Partially out of frustration, partially because he could've hurt himself, and partially because he looked so fucking gorgeous while destroying his creation that it takes all Sasori's self-control to not grab him and kiss him senseless.
It must have hurt. His hand stings from the force he used to hurt his friend, his best friend. But what hurts even more is seeing the heartbroken look in Deidara's eyes, the look that makes him want to hold Deidara and not let go. Deidara turns away, leaves the room, and he doesn't stop him. He hardly hears the teachers lecture; he's too busy staring at his hand, the hand that hurt his Deidara.
When Deidara comes back, his eyes are red as is his cheek. The eye liner he's so fond of has smudged, leaving black tear trails down his cheeks. He's been crying, everyone can tell. The teacher gives him detention for leaving the room without permission. If this were any other time, Sasori would yell at her for being so stupid. But she gives him detention too, which means he can try to make things right with Deidara. Every time he tries to talk to the boy, he is ignored.
It hurts more than he could've ever imagined.

The day was long. Deidara still isn't talking to him, and he's scared he's lost their friendship forever. The thought makes him want to cry. He's glad that it's time for detention now; he wants to speak to Deidara. The teacher walks in, barely sparing him a glance.
"Um, where's Deidara?"
"His father excused him, he's needed at home. Don't worry though, he will definitely be punished."
A malicious glint rises in the teachers' eyes, but Sasori is too dejected to notice. He'll have to wait until tomorrow to see his friend again.

Deidara isn't at school the next day. Or the day after that. It's three days until Sasori sees him again. When he does, Deidara is limping, and just generally looking like shit.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, un."
He doesn't look fine, but Sasori knows a lost battle when he sees one. So instead, he just pulls Deidara close to him, burying his face in the blonde hair.
"I'm sorry."
Deidara doesn't reply, and doesn't hug him back, but he doesn't push him away either. They stay like that until the bell to signal the end of class rings, and Sasori reluctantly releases Deidara.
"I'm sorry."
"You've said that already."
"I know. I'm just checking if you've gone deaf."
Deidara grins, and then they're joking around again, play fighting and laughing at whatever random thing is currently amusing them.

They fight over their art again that day. And the next, and the next. They're not serious though, just jokingly prodding at each other's views. The other students don't understand the joy they get from these fights, hitherto dubbed 'The Art Wars'. Sasori and Deidara just laugh at anyone who asks. They don't understand, and they never will.

The second time Deidara comes into school all beat up, Sasori feels like vomiting.
"What happened?"
"I fell down the stairs, un."
"You should be more careful, silly klutz."
"I am not a klutz!"
"Yeah you are. If you were any more klutzy, I'd have to wrap you up in bubble wrap."
"I'd choke."
"No you wouldn't."
"Yes I would, the bubble wrap would suffocate me!"
"Attack of the evil bubble wrap!"
"Yes! It's evil!"
"Whatever. Brat."
Sasori doesn't remember when he started calling Deidara 'Brat'. Deidara doesn't remember either. But it doesn't matter to them. Deidara is Brat, and that's it, end of story.
Other people, when they hear Sasori call Deidara 'Brat' and watch them fight, assume they are worst enemies. But 'Brat' has no negative connotation. Maybe it did when he first started using it, neither of them remember any more. Probably it did. But now...Now, 'Brat' means Deidara. It's a nickname, just like Dei or DeiDei; just this name is Sasori exclusive. He's the only one that can call Deidara 'Brat'. Because Deidara is his brat.

It takes Sasori two weeks to work up the courage. He does it in English class, while they have reading time. The teacher isn't in the room, and Deidara is wholly absorbed in his book. It's now or never.
He leans over the slight distance that separates them, takes hold of Deidara, and pulls the boy into his lap.
"What'cha reading?"
"Great Expectations. You're supposed to be reading it too, un."
"I forgot my book."
Deidara leans back and slightly to the side, raising his book higher.
"Read with me."
Sasori smirks, resting his chin on Deidara's shoulder as he scans the words on the book. He's read the book five times before, but Deidara doesn't know that, so he just pretends to read as he mentally celebrates this new achievement in his 'Seduce Deidara' mission.

Deidara, despite being poor, smells better than anyone else at this school. Here the boys wear way too much strong-smelling deo, and the girls swim in clouds of perfume. As far as he knows, Deidara doesn't use cologne or perfume, but he always smells like vanilla. Sometimes Sasori wonders if he tastes like vanilla too, but he quickly dismisses such thoughts. If he dwells on them, he finds it difficult to restrain himself from not attacking Deidara just to taste him.
"Ne, Sasori? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure about that? You look like you've got a fever."
"That's cause I was just thinking about you."
He winks at Deidara, who lets out a low whine of embarrassment as he goes bright red.
"You're evil, un!"
"Yeah, I know."
He laughs when Deidara slaps him, leaving a red mark on his face. It doesn't hurt, it never does, because Deidara's so weak he can't hurt him unless he hits really hard, which he doesn't. Deidara slaps Sasori to let him know that he's too annoying for words to express. Sasori just laughs because getting slapped is an excuse to pull Deidara closer, so long as he apologises.

It's a Thursday when he realises. He's in Chemistry, the only class he doesn't have with Deidara. (They kicked him out when he blew up an experiment. He's in Biology instead.) They're reviewing how to balance an equation, and he's bored beyond belief as he stares up at the ceiling. Somehow, someone has managed to stick a gummy bear up there, and next to it are written the words 'I love...' The rest of the sentence is faded beyond legibility, but Sasori's mind automatically fills it in. 'Deidara'.
He blinks once, twice, then leans back further, frowning as he examines this thought of his. Sasori has never loved anyone before, so he's not sure if that's what this is, but it's definitely different to any other feelings he's ever held for someone. When he's with one of his sluts, he just feels lust and desire, then once he's done, disgust. He always leaves as soon as they're done. And when they cry, he feels no remorse.
But Deidara...
When Deidara had been crying, he felt like crying too. He had wanted to just hold him until everything was better again. And even though his honour won't let him go any further than holding the other boy, just doing that makes him feel happy. Normally he hates holding another person, it feels so wrong, but with Deidara it just feels so right.
He tilts his head to the side and nods to himself. Sasori is in love with Deidara, no doubt about that. The only question left is what to do now? If he tells Deidara, the blonde won't believe him. He does have a reputation of being a man whore, after all. Speaking of, he'll have to stop that. He's in a relationship now, no more sleeping around. Which is easy, because ever since Deidara came he's been subconsciously lessening how often he goes home with one of his sluts. So now all he has left to do is inform Deidara that they are in a relationship, and get him to agree. Easier said than done. But, he has to start somewhere.
••••••••••••••••••••••••"You want me to help you with your puppet? I thought you never wanted help with your puppets, un."
"Yeah, but I've decided to make this one my art project, and I'll never get it finished in time without help."
"I don't know, my dad doesn't like me staying after school...I'll ask him though, un."
"Thank you, you're a life saver!"
"Ey, save that for when I find out if I can or not!"
"Yes miss."
Slap. Laugh. And his 'Seduce Deidara' plan is working. Maybe.

"Holy fuck!"
"Language, brat."
"But-But-"
"But what?"
"It's creepy, un!"
"He is not creepy!"
"Yes he-Did you just call it he?"
"It's a puppet, it's supposed to have a gender. Deidara, meet Hiruko."
Deidara's gaze returns once more to the looming shadow that is Hiruko, and Sasori smirks.
"Surely you're not afraid..."
"Of course not! It's just unnerving, he's unnerving. What do you need me to do, un?"
"Can you make the tail please? I've got the materials and the blueprints here."
Deidara shuffles through the papers, examining the diagrams.
"This looks really complex. Did you design it yourself?"
"Yeah."
"Awesome!"
They grin at each other, and Sasori subconsciously moves slightly closer to the small blonde, just a breath away from touching him...
"Um, we should probably get started now, un."
"Er, yeah, of course."
Well, it's awkward as hell, but at least Deidara isn't freaking out on him. Sasori takes that as a good sign. And someday, he'll prove to Deidara that he loves him, and then...Who knows where things will go from there? Deidara is unpredictable, when he's around, anything can happen. That's probably one of the major reasons Sasori loves him, and wants him as his. And he will be his.
But until then, he'll have to remember not to go too far, and to not think of vanilla. Because Deidara is the best thing in his life, and he's not going to let that be ruined.
"Sasori."
"Yeah?"
"It's staring at me..."
"No it's not. It's a puppet, it can't stare."
"But it is and it's really creepy un!"
Sasori knows it's not nice, but he makes Hiruko move his head to directly face Deidara, who screams in shock (And slight fear, though he vehemently denies this.)
"I-It moved!"
"No it didn't."
"Yes it did! I swear, that thing just moved!"
"Aw, are you scared?"
"No-No I'm not!"
"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Come here."
Deidara eagerly crawls into his arms, and he grins in triumph. He normally hates waiting, but he'll wait forever for Deidara as long as he gets to hold him.

So this chapter was focused mostly on Sasori, the next one will be Deidara-centric. I don't like present tense writing, but I had to, this came to me in a dream. This creepy voice that sounded like English Hiruko just boomed out:

"Do you like AU SasoDei stories?" Yes. Yes, I do. "Have you noticed that most AU SasoDei involves either ManWhoreSasori or DomesticAbuseDeidara?" Well, now that you mention it… "Then this is the story for youuuu! Sasori the man whore, and Deidara the domestic abuse victim in one!" That sounds cool, where can I find it? "It can't be found, because you will write it!" What? "Yes, you must write it, and it must be…In present tense!" Why? No! I can't write this! "But you must! Or else…It will never be written. Ever!"

And that was it. The sad part is, that wasn't the weirdest dream I've ever had. But anyhow, what the voice said was just bugging me, so one day I just decided: Screw it, and started writing this. So, here I am, and here you are. And now I have to get the other chapter up. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter/story!