The sculptor finally came out of his reverie later that afternoon. His hair was fluffy and lines were smushed into his face, the young man having burrowed into the duvet.
Deidara lay back, relishing being in his bed. Once he had made it out of the words safely, the artist damn near cried out in relief. Upon returning to his dorm, he had stripped off his muddy clothes and collapsed into bed.

Now awake, he tried to comprehend, yet again, what happened in the woods.

It had really happened…right? The dirt on his boots, the loss of his container of that red earth and jacket…they were all symptomatic that something really had happened to him last night.

He curved his back into a crescent, nestling down the bed. The art student frowned into the soft cotton. What the hell was he supposed to do now?!

How was he supposed to carry on with normal life after that experience?
He mulled it over some more, before eventually dragging himself into a shower.

Deidara felt more himself later that evening as he was slotted between Konan and Kakuzu in the student union. He and his friends had come down for some drinks and bar food; he ate his curly fries hungrily.

Kisame and Itachi were playing pool. The blind watched absent-mindedly as the balls clacked each other.
After a moment, Konan waved a hand in front of his face. "Dei?" She enquired, eyebrow raised.

"Sorry, un." Realising he had missed half of the conversation.
The art student was finding it hard to concentrate.

The night was a pleasant one, yet Deidara felt a sense of relief as he made it back to his dorm later. He was still exhausted. He flopped back on his bed.

After a moment, his eyes were drawn to the Scorpion sculpture, thinking.
It can't have been a coincidence...

The red hue of the sculpture almost taunted him. He both understood and knew very little…
Resolved, the blond sat up. Tomorrow was Sunday; he had no classes.

He'd go back for more.

•••

The jagged rocks that were approaching looked familiar to Deidara. He slowed down as he got nearer. The blond tapped the edge of one, recollecting how he backed onto it as Sasori walked towards him…

The sculptor looked around, and tried to find where to go next. If only he hadn't followed the redhead in the pitch black on Friday night. He came to the stream again, finding the trickling of the water soothing.

Brow furrowed, he set off in what he thought was the right direction.

It didn't take the sculptor long to hear that voice again; although this time - it was less of a whisper, and more of a derisive remark.
"You're eager."

Deidara span, looking behind him sharply to where the noise came from. He rounded on thin air alone.

"Sasori, stop being a dick and show me where you are, un!" The blond called out. His cheeks were flushed with the October cold.

The tree to one side of the blond began to sway, rocking with creak that reverberated around the branches. The wood snapped and juddered, seemingly being twanged to point to the right.

The art student was momentarily startled; he watched the branches bend and thrive. A singular thought ran through his brain. If Sasori could control this…what else could he control?

Deidara's mouth hung open as he was transfixed at the tree. As if to move him alone, a long sinewy branch whipped forth from the tree, and slapped at the ground right in front of the sculptor.

"Fucking-shit!" The blond yelped. Blood rushed to his head. "Fuck me; I'm coming you asshole, un!" He continued yelling as he staggered over the bracken and towards to the stone enclave.

Finally, Deidara was upon the demon's…place? He wasn't sure whether he could call it a 'home.' It wasn't exactly cosy.

The art student squeezed himself through the crack, almost tripping out of the other side. He landed heavily on his feet. Sasori was once again sitting at his work-station. He looked bemused to have Deidara's company for a subsequent day.

"Back so soon?" He quipped.

Deidara pushed forwards to him, incredulous. He stood right over the redhead. Sasori's eyes narrowed as the blond's face appeared above, skin mottled in red in places from the cold.

"Says you, rushing me over here, un." The blond replied, sullen.

It was strange; upon their first meeting, he was terrified of Sasori.
Now, however…when he met the eyes of this demon, his main emotion was exasperation.

The redhead pursed his lips, and set down his tools. He was carving something, what the final entity it would be, Deidara could not see from such a short glance.

"And what did I do to deserve such a 'treat?'" Sasori called out. He enunciated with particular emphasis on the last word; his tone making it clear it wasn't particularly how he viewed the encounter.

The phrasing threw Deidara off momentarily; the puppeteer caught the subtle shift on the art student's expression. What to make of it; he wasn't yet sure.

The sculptor got closer to the redhead. "I want to know what you really want- " He shot out firmly out to the older man. "-What your endgame is, un."

Sasori raised an eyebrow. "I thought we covered this already?"

Deidara crossed his arms, expression haughty at the redhead's response. "Trust me; I get the art - sometimes I feel like that's all I need too, un. I want to know why you're here…and why you're here still, un." He gestured towards the cave around the two men.

The cool grey eyes of the demon observed his movements. Then, with a sudden movement flick of his wrist, Sasori directed a stool underneath the blond's legs; they caught the blond, forcing him to sit.
Stunned, Deidara faltered at the action. It wasn't something you could get used to quickly; someone doing magic in front of your eyes…
Not least, being drawn in to the redhead's glare. Deidara's heart began to thud loud.

Sasori wore an irritated expression, his fingers outstretched still from directing the chair towards the blond. Deidara couldn't help but be transfixed by the simple flex of movement with deep concentration.

"If I tell you what you want to know; will you leave me be?" The demon eventually spoke in a measured voice. "I'd really like to get back to what I was doing." He nudged his head towards the piece on his workstation.

At first, the sculptor gave the older man an indignant expression. A feeling of chagrin trickled down his body. Confusion entwined him; the redhead spoke of not being bothered, however he had let the blond find his den once again, directing him forwards?

Deidara assumed…the demon wanted him to come back.
Was that not the case? Craving the answer, the sculptor gripped a gloved hand, nodding once.

Sasori directed look the alcove to the right of the sculptor; flames expounded from the nook straight away. No use the blond sitting here cold, was there?

The redhead then began to speak. "My end-game, as the phrase it, is the same as it was when I was sealed here. I just want to practice and perfect my art"

Grateful for the warmth, Deidara crossed his legs up to his chin, and hugged his arms against them. He listened intently to the redhead.

The puppeteer appreciated that Deidara had not butt-in whilst he was speaking. It was tiresome having to repeat yourself. He continued in his recollection. "…I found a way to do that, in these woods. Some people viewed that as magic; I guess it is."

Deidara's hand gripped hard against his leg, and he moved the conversation towards what he really wanted to hear.

"So…your magic. Can you, um-" He hesitated at the unfathomable expression from the puppeteer. It took a moment for him to gather his words coherently. "-Can it reach outside these woods? Did you…speak to me before, un?" He offered.

The demon blinked slowly. He rose a hand up to his own face, perching a forefinger and thumb lightly against his lip as he mulled over the blond's question.

"…What do you mean, 'before?'" Sasori had dropped his tone lower. Deidara noticed, and carried on.

"…Last summer. When I first got the red earth from here; when I took it back home I got struck with this…intense inspiration, un." The blond replied, noting that the redhead had not denied what Deidara asked about his magic.

Sasori's eyes opened a fraction wider as he listened to the sculptor. He was concentrating on each word.

"I made something like nothing else I had ever done previously, un. A scorpion." Deidara was still gripping his leg hard as he spoke. "I thought, after seeing what you could do last night; and your name; maybe that was you. You speaking to me through your magic, un. Cause I took the earth from your woods…or something like that, anyway…" The sculptor threw away that last sentence into a mumble, looking towards the fireplace.

A moment passed between the two men. Deidara carried on viewing the flames rather than demon in front of him. He appreciated the warmth against his face; Sasori's place was chilly otherwise. If he didn't need food, the blond doubted he needed heat.
The sculptor was trying to distract his brain from the redhead, as he was feeling more uneasy as Sasori said nothing. Deidara reconciled that what he said to the demon could have been childish, full of naivety. Perhaps the redhead thought so.

After a while, Sasori dropped his hand away from own face, and tapped it against his knee; he looked to be in deep thought. In a movement, he seemingly settled on what he had been demon reached over and traced fingertips against the blond's arm, down to where it met his wrist.

"It wasn't intentional." The redhead stated, his voice actually more uplifted in tone. "…But you might have something there; the enchantment in this place might have seeped through. Interesting. I've not seen that before."

At his touch, Deidara moved his head slowly back to return Sasori's gaze.
He listened as the puppeteer's skin moved against his own. The feeling was intense, a shivering sensation pushed up through his middle. He swallowed, feeling frozen.

"I see…" The blond eventually replied, when his tongue became un-stuck. He had no idea what to do with his face. Deidara could hardly believe what was happening.
He was struck with the intrusive thought to grab onto the demon's hand as it rested on his own wrist. The man's hand felt surprisingly smooth against his own skin. Deidara's own hand was restless at the sensation.

The redhead wore his usual acute expression; he took in the blond's aura, Deidara's mannerisms filling in the gaps for what his words omitted. Huh. Seems he liked this touching.

Intrigued, the redhead moved his head closer to the blond's. He saw Deidara jilt his own backwards in response. Heh. So he was correct; the guy was getting a little flustered each time I get closer.

Giving the blond a sly grin, the redhead moved his hand away from Deidara's wrist and instead wrapped it around the art student's shoulders. Sasori had shifted on his own seat so much that he was basically hovering over the blond now as he leant over the younger man.

"I get the feeling…you wanted me to say it was intentional." He whispered, realising the source of the blond's actions and observations today.

The sculptor sat bolt upright as Sasori called him out.

Deidara licked his lip just slightly, getting some moisture back there. The art student persevered in not having his words catch in his throat as he responded. "…Maybe I did. Would help me make sense of all this, un." He spoke roughly, trying to disguise his fluster.

Sasori's lips twitched.

"Is that all?" As he spoke, the demons' dextrous fingers gripped into the blond's hair. He liked how it looked; the thick strands being pulled between his fingers.

Deidara grunted at the action. His mind was racing. He was so close to just giving in to that strange desire, arching his back as he looked back at the redhead. He displayed an expression of false haughtiness.

"What else would be it, un?" He sniffed, although the dilution of his pupils at Sasori's touch implied a contradiction in his words.

Sasori let out a small h'nn.
The demon realised with a dull thud that he actually wanted to hear Deidara say it.
That…something else wanted to bring him back to this cave. Back to me.

Realising Deidara wasn't going for it, he relinquished his grasp of the sculptor's hair, and sat back in his own chair. Sasori's expression was mollified when he saw that Deidara's face was flushed.
The demon figured he was right, yet he wouldn't probe the blond any further right now.

Instead, Sasori crossed his legs and relaxed back in his seat, watching the blond.
"Anything else?" He said, in a bored tone. Might as well get this over with, if the art student had any more questions.

Deidara was trying to come back down from space; it took him a moment to register the puppeteer's question. His brain was blank from trying to keep his stimulation hidden.

"Um…" He began as his skin tingled with goosebumps. "I guess…like I mentioned before, how did you end up getting sealed away here, un?" He managed eventually. He was still reeling from the quick-turn of the puppeteer's mannerism - coming on to him, and then acting as if he wanted Deidara to leave him alone. This guy was changeable, all right.

Sasori considered the question. He didn't much like talking about the past, but he did give the art student opportunity to ask what he wanted, so…

"Not everyone agreed with the means I used to become one with my art. It resulted in my…demonisation, so to speak." He began, forcing himself through it.
"Therefore…some of those who were against me, in my time, wanted to find a way to put a stop to it." The redhead spoke quickly, wanting to get this exchange over with. The puppeteer found it a painful memory to recall. "I got sealed to this woodland; I can't leave it." Sasori finished wearily.

Deidara wore a strained expression as he listened, trying his best to understand and not show himself up in front of the redhead. Although it was difficult; it was a lot to swallow at once.
So Sasori had not been born a demon, then. He was hooked; his eyes wide as he hung onto each word the redhead espoused.

"Right." The blond murmured. "How did that happen exactly, un?"

Sasori gave him a blank stare. The sculptor gripped against his own leg; perhaps he had probed too deep with that last question.

Deidara felt a spasm in his middle. Still, Sasori said nothing.

"…Is it something I wouldn't understand, un?" The art student ventured, by now his chin nudging against his knee that was pulled up towards his chest. It could be Sasori thought this was way above a human's understanding.

Sasori shifted forwards, until he was perched on the end of his own seat. He was once again getting closer. Deidara could see the dark, thick lashes that framed each of those grey coloured eyes.

Finally, the redhead moved his head, shaking it subtly. "…It's not that." He stated in reply to Deidara. "It might be easier to explain if I just showed you."

The redhead stood up, and after a moment, held a hand out towards the sculptor. Deidara's heart jumped up his throat. He clenched his hand, before reaching out and deciding to grab Sasori's. The hand was cool to his touch. Sasori gripped him back, and led the blond forwards.

The sculptor followed the demon through a tight gap in the rock, located behind the puppeteer's workstation. Sasori went first, still holding onto Deidara's hand. The blond felt an excited nervousness at the fact he had not let go. The reason became apparent soon enough; the redhead pulled the art student through the crack, helping him forwards. The blond got stuck as he squeezed through the tightest corner towards the end. Sasori pulled him forwards.

Deidara didn't fall over completely as he was dragged through the passage; instead, he felt the unsteadiness on his feet. Sasori gripped him towards his torso as the student staggered forwards. As the blond landed against him with a thud, the demon's cool eyes roved over him.

The sculptor returned with a stare of his own. He tried to steady his own breathing.
The blond had never felt tension like this before. Rationally, he knew this was madness; this guy wasn't even human!

Yet Deidara could not deny the way his body reacted being this close again to the redhead. His skin tingled at the proximity between them. He wanted Sasori to lean closer, even now.

It was a dimly lit room; there was a couple of candles scattered around, their feeble light making it so Deidara could just about see the redhead's face in front of his own.

The puppeteer's eyebrows knitted together as he looked back the blond. He understood the expression the blond was giving him; it was written all over the way the younger man's lips moved open.

The demon was intrigued. This was not what he had expected when he had ran into Deidara that night; and yet, here they were…

He blinked, and squeezed the blond's hand. Hard.
The blond's sharp intake of breath solidified it. Like before, when he was testing the sculptor….He was feeling desire, all right.

Sasori lips twisted into a smirk. Poor fool probably didn't realise what he was getting into…
Deidara felt his face flush, and whipped his direction away from the redhead. Only then did Sasori drop his hand.

As the puppeteer walked away, Deidara heard the crunch of whatever they were walking on underfoot. It was different to the ground in the demon's other room, his living quarters.

The blond nudged the ground with his foot, wondering what Sasori was going to show him. His face still burned with the effects of the redhead's gaze.

The redhead rose a hand up, and extended his palm. At his direction, more flames began to flicker around the alcoves in the walls, this the time burning a wispy blue. It gave this section of the cavern a purple-indigo hue.

Sasori made a jerky movement of his arm towards something on the wall. "…That's how it happened. My sealing."

The blond looked up, his temple pulsating at the sight.
It was like a core had been nailed to the wall; a cylinder type item with tendrils sprouting from it. Were those…veins?

The blond began to sweat.
He daren't look at the redhead directly.

Something in his gut told him his instinct was right.

Sasori…he didn't need to eat, drink or breathe…nor it seemed, did it need a heart to pump blood around his body. His heart was impaled onto the wall.

There was script, formations of black that Deidara couldn't understand. They laid out around this obscure 'heart' in a circle, a trigram of words.

He presumed this was the seal itself, binding the redhead's core.
Steeling himself, Deidara looked sideways at the puppeteer. He was stood rigid, glowering at the seal.

The blond swallowed, considering how lonely it must be for the demon. Imagine, being trapped here for years…No wonder when Deidara mentioned art, Sasori had jumped on it.

He wondered how many other people Sasori had spoken to since he was sealed away in the woods. The thought made him feel strange; the blond diverted his eyes from the redhead and looked down at his feet.

The sight that met him there caused him to baulk instantly. He retched, staggering this time away from the redhead. Sasori tore his glare away from the wall, and this time fixed it again the blond.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Deidara panted as he tried to stop himself from heaving. He brought a shaky sleeve up to his mouth, as he realised he was seeing correctly; they were standing on a pile of bones.

Femurs, splinters of rib, even a caved in skull…enough to create an obscure sea.
The blond tried to back away from it as far he could, finding a gap in the vile pit on cool stone. He retched again, feeling helpless. The student leant against the wall of the cavern, directly underneath one of those strange blue lights that the demon had manifested.

Terror caught in Deidara's throat.
He heard the redhead walking towards him; he wanted to shut his eyes in panic, yet found them frozen in panic.

Sasori had an impassive expression as he closed the gap between he and Deidara.
He didn't need the blond to explain to him what had caused him to react in such a way; the redhead knew well enough he had identified the bones beneath their feet.

The ribbon of thought that slipped through the demon was what to do about it.

•••