Sasori groaned as he sat up in bed. He hated nights. Nighttime always meant he was left alone with just his thoughts for company. It meant time for reflection that he sincerely wished he did not have. For the third time in the last week, Sasori mentally berated himself. In his haste to cut all old emotional ties, he had overlooked some important details. Like the possibility of ever loving again. When he had traded in his flesh and blood for a wooden body, he had disposed of…certain features he deemed unnecessary. Now he found himself wishing he had sought another method. Counseling might have allowed him to keep his body and all the things that came with it. For once, he wanted to be inferior. To be like his blond partner's art- a fleeting but beautiful existence filled with everything life had to offer. He bit his lip not sure how to fix this.
He had often witnessed strange occurrences in his body. Phantom Limb Syndrome they called it. A person would experience feeling in a body part that had long since been removed from the body. The difference was that Sasori had a body. At any given time, a wooden limb would move unbidden, responding to some mysterious impulse. These fits often resulted in a sound thwacking to someone's person, usually Deidara. Sasori would simply glare preventing any comments, but those slips were always a private source of embarrassment.
Well, a certain phantom limb was begging for attention now and there was nothing Sasori could do but wait for it to go away. Talk about embarrassment. The feeling was so intense it was painful.
Sleep. That was another thing he missed about being human. He could have just had a pleasant wet dream and been through with it. But no, he was doomed to a night of wakefulness and contemplation, which is exactly why he was in this wretched position. Stupid Phantom Limb Syndrome.
"Danna," Sasori quickly turned to the blond man in the bed next to his.
"Yes?" He gritted out.
Nothing. Sleeptalking. Something the blond had an annoying habit of doing. Something that had the annoying habit of exciting Sasori. Every night, when Deidara would whisper the puppet master's name… Sasori realized it was most likely the man recounting the day's events, running through their last mission in his dreams. Still, every slip of the younger man's tongue sent Sasori further into fantasy…and unnatural sensations.
"Damn brat."
