Chapter 1:

Deidara's POV

Two Days Later

The event of two nights ago still plays in my mind.

It wasn't that I had been looking for a one-night stand; I'm normally the one to commit to a relationship before doing anything physical.

But something about that man, the one with blood-red hair and a piercing amber gaze, drove me to act on insane pleasure and insane pleasure alone.

The way he held me, spoke to me, his voice like heavy silk, instantly calmed yet aroused me all at the same time, introducing me to sensations I never knew existed.

And by the time I finally woke up the next morning, he was already gone, as if his presence never existed in the first place.

Yet…he was real.

I had evidence to prove it.

Without warning, the throbbing ache on my neck interrupts my thoughts and I hiss lightly, touching the bite mark situated at the junction of my throat and shoulder. Even after two whole days, the damn mark still looks fresh.

"Wild night, huh?" my best friend, Hidan, asks, smirking wildly. I blush furiously, hoping the collar of my shirt was high enough to cover it. "I-It's none of your business, un."

"You're right; it is none of my business," he looks at me with that same damn smirk, "but as your best friend, I would like to know why my 'serious relationship' type best friend suddenly had a one night stand. Or have you been fucking someone for a while and just haven't fucking told me?"

"Hidan, it's rude to cuss that much, un," I try to redirect the conversation to something other than my sex life. I'm pretty incognito about it and to have it suddenly be brought up in public isn't something I'm comfortable with.

"Don't try to change the subject, blondie," I glare at the pet name. He just laughs his usual maniacal laugh, insinuating curious looks from others as we stroll through the main lawn on campus.

I guess I should introduce myself.

My name is Deidara Iwa.

I'm 21 years old and a senior at Khan University.

I have crystal blue eyes, thick, golden-blonde hair that reaches down past my elbows and covers almost the entirety of the left side of my face in bangs (I usually have it up in a half-ponytail most of the time), and I'm 6 foot even.

My best friend, Hidan, and I have known each other since we were in Pre-K – or to be more precise, back when he thought I had been a girl. My hair has always been long. It's not that I want to look like a girl, which I infuriatingly do, I just enjoy having it long.

Anyways, I'm an art major...I know…go ahead and laugh; everyone else does when they hear what degree I'm going after. Even my own father was flabbergasted when I told him before I left for college.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Deidara?! An art major?!" he yelled, brown eyes furious.

"Kinji!" my mother shouted, trying to calm her husband, blue eyes threatening. Even though she was trying to keep the situation under control, I could see the disappointment clouding her gaze.

Me…I just sat there, allowing my father to scream and curse at me. He glared. "No son of mine will pursue a degree in art! Especially if I'm the one paying the goddamn tuition!"

"I understand you're the one paying the tuition and I'm forever grateful, but-"

"You obviously aren't fucking grateful if you're going to pursue a degree in art! I'm not about to pay for your tuition for you to not make any money whatsoever once you graduate!"

"Kinji, lower your voice. Yelling will only make it worse and-"

"Asami don't sputter that bullshit to me. You're just as disappointed! I can tell!" my dad screamed. He returned his gaze to me. "Deidara…why? Why do you want to be an art major? I would understand if it was Graphic Design. Virtual games are popular, therefore graphic designers are wanted, but-"

"Graphic Design involves programming, which I'm not good at, un," I exclaimed, staring down at my plate. Silence filled the space for what felt like hours until my father cleared his throat. "Okay…so…why art…son?"

"Art is my passion, un. Ever since I was little, the class I excelled in the most was art. You both saw that, un. Yes, I could have pursued something in science, but that involved taking classes like Chemistry and Physics and lord knows I'm nowhere near the A-grade student to take those. Art…speaks to me and I speak through art, un. I'm my happiest when I sculpt, paint, carve, etc. My expression is shown through what my hands can create, un. I know that this may all sound like a sorry excuse, but that's my best explanation," I revealed.

Without as much as a pause, my dad grunted roughly in the back of his throat. "Well, if pursuing art is what you want to do, be my guest. But don't think I'm paying for college anymore."

"Kinji!"

"Asami, don't push me any more on this subject! I'm not going to pay for a future where my son ends up a failure! And that's final!"

So after telling my parents the news, I was seen applying to as many scholarships Khan University had to offer. I expected my parents to react the way they did, but I never thought my father would completely cut off funds for my education, leaving me in the cold. After that night, my father and I barely spoke to each other, and once I left, I hadn't been back since.

Winter break is coming up soon, and I don't plan on going home. Hidan's family has opened its door to me and I'm more than willing to accept the offer.

My father has lost respect for me because I just wanted to pursue my dream.

I have absolutely no reason to go back to that house ever again.

One of the perks of being a senior at the university is that you get the option of living in one of the campus apartments for the same price as living in the dorms. A kitchen, living room, bedroom, washer and dryer, and bathroom all to yourself, not having to pay for any of the electrical or water bills.

Who wouldn't want that?

Finals are coming up within the next two weeks and I have three major art projects due in that time. I guess one of the perks of being an art major is that you'll rarely ever have to study for a test, but a downside is that you'll be up for hours on end to finish a project.

I drop my backpack on the floor next to the living room's coffee table, flopping down onto the beige, triple-seat leather couch, closing my eyes.

And I see him.

The man with blood red hair and a cool, intense amber gaze.

Staring down at me with an expression I still can't quite describe; admiration? Lust? Love? I don't have a clue. He's staring down at me, hands gripping the sheets underneath as he moves his hips on mine, grinding into me as he rams into that sweet spot deep inside.

My neck arches off the bed, the top of my head pressing into the pillow as my eyes roll into the back of my skull, a scream reverberating in my throat as my body rocks with pleasure. I shudder violently as he continues to thrust against that bundle of nerves, not giving me a chance to collect myself before I'm succumbing to the intense waves of white-hot passion that's filling my vision. In the haze, I lift my arms up in a desperate attempt to bring us closer.

It seems he gets the hint and, in an instant, his perfect face is buried into my neck as he picks up his pace to an almost inhuman speed. I bury my fingers into the red locks, the strands silky smooth against my skin. He thrusts faster, harder, deeper, each one sending me closer and closer to the edge of euphoria.

And when I finally fall, a scream escapes into the air as I release onto our stomachs, letting out a shuddering moan as I feel myself become filled with the man's own seed. I breathe slowly, trying to calm myself from my climax, drowsiness overcoming my better senses, and I fall asleep before I can say anything else.

I open my eyes, not surprised to find that my member is now semi-hard.

I woke up the next morning knowing that he wouldn't be there. One-night stands always left before the other woke up.

What I wasn't expecting was to find a black feather perched delicately on the floor next to my nightstand.

I know I had closed the window the night before, so how on Earth had a feather made its way into my room?

I gaze over at the coffee table, the feather resting on the forgotten Sculpting Techniques guidebook I bought about five years ago. I know how to sculpt, but I still learn new styles every now and then just to broaden my talent board.

I reach over and grab the feather, raising it up above my head to let it capture the light from the sun coming in through the window. Even though it's black at first glance, hints of red, yellow, gold, and orange become apparent once in the right atmosphere. Its length is past that of my forearm, which bothers me to no end, and here's the reason:

The two biggest blackbirds here are the ravens and crows.

However, neither of their feathers grows to be the length of a grown man's forearm, much less past that.

So what bird could have possibly lost this feather?

Sighing, I place it back on the coffee table, too preoccupied with finals to really delve anymore into the subject. I stand up and walk into my bedroom, what was once my desk next to the door now converted into a sculpting table. With the clay I extracted on my way in, I sit down and unwrap the modeling material, ripping off a piece and dipping it in water to get it malleable.

As I start working on it, I try to envision what I want to create. As a senior in college, final projects/exams are extremely important, especially if you want to graduate on time. Projects may not seem to be as important as studying for an actual test, with either multiple choice answers or short/long essays, but in reality, and from past experience, mind you, projects tend to be more stressful than tests because the grade your professor gives you on a project is based solely on your own skills, not how much knowledge you can remember to answer a question.

You won't believe how many people failed in my freshman year, first semester art class just due to the fact that their final projects weren't 'creative' or 'individualistic' enough on the professor's standards.

I smooth out a section of the clay, rounding an edge.

However, my mind, of course, refuses to pay attention to the task at hand.

Instead, it goes back to the man.

Sasori.

I only got his first name when we met at the club.

The first thing I noticed when I walked into the club was the pulsating black light overhead.

The second was the redhead over by the neon blue-lit bar. Even from where I was standing, which was over by the entrance with Hidan, I could tell there was something about that man that made me want to go over and talk to him.

A hand clamped itself on my shoulder and I looked at Hidan, whose pale red eyes were scanning the dancefloor eagerly. "Yo, this club is fucking on point! All the boobs and booze a man could fucking ask for!"

"Hidan, I'm gay, un," I remarked, smirking at the pursed lips of my best friend. He sighed. "Alright, so it's booze and buttholes for you instead. Either way, there's fucking a lot of them!"

I shook my head, watching as Hidan shouted and sprinted into the throng of the dancing, grinding crowd, leaving me to my own devices. Eyeing the guy I had previously spotted, I ran my hands over the black leather skinny jeans I wore, smoothing out any wrinkles. On top of those, I was also wearing black combat boots and a simple white tank top with a simple black leather vest on top. My hair was in its usual half-ponytail. And as far as makeup went, I added thick, black eyeliner, accentuating my blue orbs.

I waltzed on over to the bar and sat down, the bartender promptly leaning on a forearm while polishing a glass. "Anything I can help you with, ma'am?"

My eye twitched slightly at the mistake, but I let my deep voice correct him. "Jim Beam and coke over ice, un."

The bartender's eyes widened for an instant, then he turned around with a, "My apologies, sir. Coming right up."

As he prepared the drink, I was all but too aware of the other man's curiosity. Briefly glancing in my peripheral proved my suspicions as the redhead's gaze was pointed directly at me. When I received my drink, I took a swig and was about to hand the tender my card, when he waved it away. "Gentleman over there paid for it. Enjoy."

I took another sip, finally peeking a sideways glance. "Thanks for the drink, un."

The redhead sauntered over, turning around to face the dancefloor, leaning back with his arms against the bar. He suddenly rolled his head towards me and I was given the view of the most gorgeous pair of eyes imaginable; they were a warm amber color, turned nearly black in the pulsating light. They were glinting with mischief and playfulness. And when he smirked, his smile sent little shards of pin-needles up my spine. "Anything for a pretty blonde."

"Hope you know that I'm a guy and not a transvestite, un," I was used to having to let down numerous guys who had thought I was a female.

This man wasn't about to be an exception to that rule.

I was about to take another swig when a hand gently grabbed my chin and forced me to turn it to the side. I gulped nervously at the sudden closeness of our faces. He studied my expression carefully, eyes grazing over every feature before settling on my blue orbs. He smiled again. "And I still meant what I said. Anything for a pretty blonde."

"Hm, you have some major balls trying to hit on me this early in the game, un," I forced my chin out of his grip, finishing off my bourbon-coke mix. I looked at the bartender. "Shot of Blueberry Smirnoff."

"Wouldn't necessarily call it early on if I know I'm heading for home base," his smooth, husky voice whispered breathily close to my ear. I gave an involuntary shudder, rather pleasant images popping into my mind. However, I ridded myself of such fantasies by shaking my head, calming my thoughts. "Sorry to tell you this, but I'm not the 'one-night stand' type, un. Get to know me first and then we'll talk."

"Alright…so what's your name?"

I had to hand it to him; he was pretty clever.

I laughed at his attempt, noting his own goofy grin. "Okay, just for that, I'll tell you, un. It's Deidara. And you are, un?"

"Sasori," the redhead explained, watching me intently as I took the shot of vodka just handed to me. I slammed the glass on the bar, the sting of the alcohol burning its way down my throat and landing harshly in my stomach. I wasn't drunk, so when the man who had just introduced himself as Sasori asked me to dance, I wasn't too sure as to why I had said yes.

Yet, there I was, finding myself in the middle of the dancing crowd, Sasori behind me, his hands roughly grabbing my hips as I grinded along to the music, the bass thumping violently against my chest. I closed my eyes, changing my hips from a side-to-side to a circular pattern, hearing a near animalistic growl escape from the man behind me. His grip tightened, possibly due to the fact that my new pattern caused my ass to rub even more heavily on his most sensitive area. I smirked and when the song was at a good point, I slowed my hips even more, a near moan escaping Sasori's lips, seeing as they were pressed against my ear.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, forcing his head into my throat, feeling his lips press against my skin. I sighed as something wet trailed itself up to my ear before I heard that seductive, husky voice whisper, "Dei~"

And before I could think, I turned around and leaned forward, our lips molding together in such perfect synchronicity, the rest of the club fell away to nothing. Fell away until all I was paying attention to were the audible growls and groans escaping that perfect man in front of me.

A burning sensation brings me back to reality and I nearly scream as it turns painful. What started as a burning sensation instantly grows to a boiling and I sprint to the bathroom, turning on the tap and splashing cold water onto my neck, where the pain is coming from. When the sensation dies down to just a scorching, I chance a glance in the mirror.

The bite mark that I sustained on that night is pulsing, steady and slow. I watch with a widening gaze as the outline of the mark begins to darken. The skin grows from red to brown and finally to black, forming a prominent circle on my neck. I scrunch my eyebrows together in confusion.

What the hell is happening to me?

Gomenasai for the late entry! This story is still very early on in the planning process (I have multiple other fanfics I am currently trying to finish to allow you amazing readers to enjoy it), but I hope you're liking it? Let me know if you want me to continue with chapter updates! I'll most likely always be on time with them, but sometimes it can't be helped. Anyways, let me know, please? Thanks loves 3 ^_^