Thanks so much for reviewing, following and favoriting (especially Seasponges)! I know I can be a bit depraved and dirty, but it's hard to make apologies. I write the kind of stories I like to read, and then put them on here in case others find that kind of stuff enjoyable as well. I'm anxious to speed this story up and get to the "good" stuff, but I like to handle the characters delicately. I mean, I know I'm taking them out of character some already, but I'm trying to do so as little as possible.
Beware, for those who are not like half way through Shippuden, this chapter contains what might be construed as spoilers... I probably should have noted that at the beginning of this story, but oh well!
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its wonderful, interesting characters.
XXX
Itachi was roused again a few hours later with a slight pain in his neck. When he came into full consciousness he realized the reason why, and it didn't seem to matter anymore. Deidara was nestled up right against him, his arm draped over Itachi's slender, muscular stomach, his head resting on Itachi's relaxed shoulder.
Likewise, Itachi had let his head drop against the blonde's, which was why he was now paying with a slight ache.
Itachi had no idea how they got into this position but it must have happened in those last few minutes before sleep descends, when inhibitions have been erased and critical thinking skills are all but diminished. Or maybe once passed out, they had sort of just drifted together.
He stared down at the beauty whose body was unconsciously merging with his own. He tried to think of what would be the best thing to do.
More than anything he wanted to reposition Deidara carefully so that he could fall back asleep with the blonde in his arms and share a few sweet hours of wonderful intimacy with the gorgeous teenager.
But ... a blinding caution was not letting itself be removed from his mind. He knew better. As much as he wanted to be with the artist, he couldn't ... he just couldn't ...it was too dangerous, and the Uchiha was anything but stupid.
It would be better for him to try to gently move Dei off his shoulder and then awaken him casually so he could go back to his own room.
Itachi took one last whiff of the sun-tinged locks fanning the blonde's face and draping themselves brazenly over both of their chests. He closed his eyes for a few seconds so he could more precisely engrave into his brain the memory of how it felt to have Deidara's slim arm wrapped around his naked waist while the rest of the bomber's body pressed up against the Uchiha's own refined torso and limbs.
Heaving a sigh of regret, he ever so gently lifted Deidara off his body and placed him so he was lying next to, instead of on, Itachi.
The blonde stirred slightly. Itachi was sure he had never seen anything more stunning.
Using his fingers to softly brush Deidara's glittering bangs out of his peaceful face, Itachi took a few more precious, silent seconds to study it. How had he missed it before? Was he blind or just a lunatic? Deidara was physically perfect, ideal in every sense of the word.
How had he not seen that from day one?
Or maybe he had and that, combined with the fact that he knew Dei was off limits, is why he was irritated, sometimes even driven mad, by interacting with the bomber. Itachi artfully moved a few inches back from the fair-skinned, god-like body of his sleeping friend, although his eyes continued to survey him from head to toe.
Itachi had his hands clenched in fists and he knew it was because, if he didn't keep them that way, there would be nothing to prevent them from running all over Deidara's intoxicating form that was bathed in a soft luminescence from the lamp neither of them had thought to turn off. How badly he wanted to kiss every inch of that body! Itachi knew his dick was fucking hard. He hoped Deidara would be too groggy to notice.
Conscientiously settling down his breathing, Itachi reached out a hand and gently shook Deidara's shoulder.
"Wha-," the blonde stirred again, slowly lifting the lids off his intoxicating blue eyes, as he gently craned his head to peer up at Itachi with a slight smile on his light pink lips. "Mmmm," He moaned softly while he twisted his body to stretch it out.
"Damnit." Itachi nearly choked as his dick throbbed at the delightful sight.
"You, uh, fell asleep.. er, we fell asleep. But I think it might be good for you to go back to your own room." Itachi knew he was stammering. He tried to get his hormones under control and act more cool and nonchalant. "Might be kind of weird if we slept in the same bed, right?"
Wait, did Deidara just look sad when he said that? If he had, any sign of that disappointment was gone before Itachi could confirm it.
The blonde sat up with his normal amount of cheeriness and grinned openly at the Uchiha. "Yeah, you're right about that, hm. Kisame and Sasori would have a field day, or go berserk or something. Well, see you tomorrow, Itachi! Sleep well, hm. And thanks for all your help tonight."
Itachi merely nodded, hoping his face didn't reveal how much he regretted to say goodnight to the artist and watch him go.
At the door, Deidara turned one last time to smile and wave goodnight.
Itachi loved the way Deidara smiled with his whole face. The raven had to physically bite down on his tongue to stop himself from calling out to the blonde and telling him to get back into bed because he wanted his sexy little body.
As the door clicked shut, Itachi let himself fall back onto the bed.
"Damnit," he murmured through gritted teeth. He held two tight handfuls of his blanket on either side of his body as he stared up at the ceiling and tried to sort through the crazy emotions that were settling on his body.
To say he was torn in two would be an understatement and too easy of a problem to deal with. Rather, he felt like his entire being was being pulled in a dozen different directions that threatened to rip him apart.
He was angry at himself for letting himself develop feelings for Deidara, of all people! He was sexually frustrated and couldn't squelch the erotic images dancing mischievously in his mind no matter how much he begged them to go away. He was embarrassed, agonized, and confused.
His hard exterior shell had been effectively cracked and what was spilling out seemed so foreign and disconcerting to the powerful Uchiha.
"These ridiculous feelings will only make you weaker, Itachi. Or cause you indescribable pain ... remember that?"
Unwilling to let himself off without some sort of penalty for so carelessly falling for the former Iwagakure nin, Itachi forced himself to think back to that horrible, horrible night. He shuddered as his eyes filled to the brim with tears.
No matter how long he repressed those memories, they always remained potent and possessed the power to psychologically destroy Itachi once let out.
It had been the biggest debate of his life when he tried to decide whether he would look his Uchiha lover in the eye when he killed him or whether he'd do it secret, so that the precious young man, who actually had been a year older than Itachi, could die somewhat peacefully without the sting of knowing about Itachi's betrayal.
The raven's shoulders shook with sobs as he tormented himself with short, vague, somewhat hazy clips from that night.
In the end, he had been so selfish, and simply poisoned his boyfriend the last night he made love to him so the precious individual would die a relatively painless death and never have to know it was Itachi who had .. murdered him.
Even now, he felt disgusted with himself for choosing such a cowardly, self-indulging path, but he truly had believed the positive aspects of that method were mutual for both of them, even though it was his sweetheart who had ... lost his life ...
"He didn't 'lose his life,'" Itachi reprimanded himself silently, spitting the words out like a volcano, trying to punish himself thoroughly as he knew once he started this horrific journey into his past it was best to soak out all the self-loathing he could in one try. "You murdered him. Just accept that. There's no way around it. You ... murdered ... him."
The raven flipped over onto his stomach, his body shaking as the memories, now unleashed, attacked him from every angle, infecting him with the guilt, shame, and bitterness that he worked so hard to avoid.
That was one of the hardest deaths to endure ... that and those of his parents. He hated himself for betraying the people he loved the most.
Luckily, in a few more years, none of it would matter. He would be released from this suffering forever.
Never again would he have to think of the disappointment and anguish in the eyes and faces of his loved ones ... his mom, his dad, his boyfriend, and, of course, most of all his dearly beloved little brother whom he missed with all his heart.
A damp wet spot had formed on his clean white pillow. His heart ached.
He couldn't do the same to Deidara. It would be incredibly cruel of him to pursue and try to win over the sweet, explosive blonde young man when he knew, he actually knew, that it couldn't end well.
"That doesn't mean you couldn't -" Itachi cut himself off before letting that selfish thought form to completion. What an awful thing to think! Damn him for ever letting himself even wish for such a thing.
It was impossible. That's all there was to it.
Itachi was a man of integrity, although that aspect of his personality had become increasingly obfuscated over the past few years and now was almost entirely hidden from the naked eye.
Nevertheless, he wouldn't sleep with Deidara unless he were going to allow himself to fall hard for the blonde. And he wasn't going to let himself fall for Deidara because it would complicate all his carefully constructed plans.
Also, even though he knew Dei definitely would end up suffering and that thought alone made his heart constrict with preemptive pain and guilt, Itachi knew it would end up being just one more heartbreak for himself as well.
Neither of those possibilities, or rather certainties, were things the guarded Uchia was willing to risk.
XXX
Deidara was going crazy. He tried to stay focused and get all these distracting thoughts out of his mind.
"Serves you right for losing your heart to someone as unattainable as Itachi."
As cocky and self-assured as he was about every aspect of his life, this was one instance where Dei felt very self-conscious and unsure.
Itachi was unequaled in Deidara's mind. He was so powerful, brilliant, and intimidating, which, undoubtedly, all added up to the raven's appeal, but also made him seem more like a dream hovering somewhere just outside of the material world ... and definitely out of Deidara's reach.
"At least now we're friends," Dei thought happily. That was something. It was farther than they ever had been before. But not far enough. Not where Deidara wanted to be: namely, on his knees with Itachi's cock in his mouth.
Dei had been trying to feel out the cool, confident Uchiha to see if there was any possibility, but so far, he had no idea what he was reading. It was like trying to decipher a code written in a language that didn't exist.
Luckily, all the tension and angst added up into augmented creativity for the blonde, and that's what he thrived on. ... He just made sure to stay clear of Sasori's accessories during his artistic process since he now knew the lengths his Danna would go to in order to get his point across.
Deidara was shocked to realize he looked rather fondly on that night from a week ago, though. ... At least the comfort he had received from his gorgeous friend.
The punishment itself sucked pretty bad, although even that ... Deidara couldn't help but to wonder if his physical response would have been different if it had been the tall, dark Uchiha "teaching him a lesson" instead of Sasori, whose relationship with Deidara would be described more as paternal.
Damn, he'd love to be Itachi's bitch. He would do anything for that man ... and let the raven do anything to him, as well.
"This is out of control," Deidara said with a hidden blush when his dick grew at the mere thought of being tied up while Itachi mercilessly railed his body every which way.
Deidara hated feeling like he was trapped in a corner like this. He just wanted to explode, to pull the trigger and make something happen.
"So what's stopping you?!" He asked himself a thousand times per day. And his answer always was the same ... It's Itachi, damn it!
Luckily his responsibilities as an Akatsuki member gave him plenty to keep him preoccupied enough to stop the urge to explode ... figuratively and literally.
And he had plenty of work to do on a project he had been trying to perfect for some time.
He currently sat barefoot on the floor in what probably was once this building's living room, different samples of his clay scattered all over the places and his hands covered in the stuff.
He was working to increase the vitality and strength of his clay and to devise more powerful explosive techniques.
Sasori silently entered the room, shook his head at the mess, and then settled into a chair on the other side.
"Hey, Sasori no Danna!" Deidara glanced up with a smile. He was glad his older partner was there ... maybe he would have some words of wisdom to help the teenager.
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Deidara finally cautiously and nonchalantly put forth his question.
"Hey, Sasori ... you're like 50, right?"
"I'm 35," Sasori corrected acidly, not looking up from sharpening one of his puppet's blades.
"Yeah, sure, hm. Thirty-five. That's what I meant," Deidara continued to work the clay with his dexterous hands. "So... you ever been in love?"
Sasori's head shot up. He considered the blonde carefully for a few seconds to see if he was serious since the artist rarely took anything seriously. But sure enough, Deidara was looking up at him expectantly, his large blue eyes absolutely sincere.
"Son of a bitch," Sasori groaned with a sigh. " Are you serious? I've been try to teach you things for two years and this is what you seek my advice on? You're a criminal, for fuck's sake. You don't have time for that anyway."
"No!" Deidara shot back with a flash of anger in his eyes. "No ... I'm an artist first and foremost. The crime stuff is just a venue to perfect my work, hm. That always has been and always will be my primary goal. And, as a craftsman, I know that love is one of the most important sources of inspiration. I'm just curious, is all, hm!"
Sasori rolled his eyes.
"C'mon, Danna! It's like a history lesson. You love that shit ... the history of Sasori, hm."
"Oh, for crying out loud." The puppet master's red waves jiggled lightly as he shook his head... the blonde was insatiable! He decided to keep his answer short. "Maybe. Once."
"With a Suna kunoichi?"
"Well, she was from Sand village ... we didn't fraternize with people outside the Land of Wind those days ... But she wasn't a shinobi, actually."
"So, did she love you back, hm?"
Sasori nodded, his face completely unemotional.
Deidara had no idea how anyone could manage to do that, but it was a common trait among most of the Akatsuki members except for himself, Hidan and Zetsu - although, to be fair, he was a lot less rambunctious than those two most of the time.
"So, what happened then?"
"I grew up. I realized love is a weakness. Besides, I was so young. Probably wasn't real love anyway. Just as well."
Deidara looked down at the soft, cold material in his hands. "How would one know that, hm? Know when it's 'real' or not? Whatever the hell that means."
Sasori gave a short laugh. "You're asking the wrong person, kid. I haven't felt 'real' love in years. Or any emotion that was pure and unadulterated for that matter."
"But say things were different? Say you had really wanted to, hm? Wanted to fall in lo-uuuuuh, n-never mind. Sounds good. Thanks. Good talk, hm!"
Sasori looked quizzically at the stuttering blonde who had just turned wide eyed and pale and then had his face flushed scarlet all in a one-second period. The puppet master glanced behind him to see the raven-haired Uchiha standing coolly in the doorway. His cloak hung partially open and one of his arms rested casually on it like usual.
"You want to go for a walk, Dei?" Itachi said evenly, his eyes scanning the mess on the floor before landing on the artist sitting amongst it.
"Yeah, sure, hm!" Deidara jumped to his feet, wiping off his hands on his shirt. "Let me go get my shoes."
He ran out of the room. Itachi's onyx eyes traveled to Sasori, whose own chocolate-brown eyes were fixed on the Uchiha and whose mouth was set in an insinuative, all-knowing smirk.
"What?" Itachi asked, his eyebrows drawing together as he looked warily at the puppet master. "What is it?"
Sasori shook his head, amazed that the young Uchiha protégé could be so brilliant, so calculated, his Sharingan eyes normally seeing everything, every last obscure detail, and yet be so entirely oblivious.
"Nothing, Itachi," Sasori said with a flat sigh, returning to his work. "It's absolutely nothing."
