Sakura hovered above her kitchen counter. I am fine, fine, fine, fine, she repeated to herself out of habit. She counted to 100. Her nails tapped against the granite counters. Sakura had always dabbled in anxiety, sometimes hitting a few bumps of depression in the road, along with compulsive habits and an addictive personality. She knew she was heading for an absolute mental and emotional breakdown, and soon. She didn't know what to do. Her years of therapy were thrown under the bed amongst coverless books and hoped to be forgotten. She thought for a moment, pondering if lighting a smoke would do her any good in this situation. She decided it would. To the roof she went.
Her boyfriend tipped her off last minute about going out of town for a business trip. She half expected this to be a blatant lie and assumed he was face-deep in a pair of fake tits. This way, if she was right, at least she wouldn't be too disappointed. A flame emerged from her lighter, igniting the cigarette in an instant. She breathed a few curses as a harsh wind blew her way. Her cell phone vibrated, the title MOM flashing on the screen. Call ignored.
Her mom called every few days, wanting to "catch up" and talk about what was new and who wore what and who was together with who. Sakura knew the only point of these calls was for her mother to feel good and semi-involved in her grown daughter's life. And to find out if a. Sakura was getting married yet and b. when she was going to start popping out some kids. Sakura doubted the latter would happen and certainly prayed that the former wouldn't occur anytime relatively soon. Sakura didn't necessary love or hate her significant other; she was comfortable in the relationship, but not much else. The burning passions of her teens had faded fast and she was left jaded and bored. There was no more excitement or spunk or surprises. The relationship was what is was, and Sakura was comfortable. But too comfortable, she had sunk into the bland daily rituals of "how was work", "how was your day" "let's grab dinner" "love you" "love you too". Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring.
And Sakura was beginning to realize just how comfortable she had become.
/
Deidara woke up the next morning surprisingly happy. He wasn't all too surprised that he was happy, he was more surprised that he had slept through an entire night. Usually he was unable to fall asleep without the use of heavy medication (which he could no longer afford), or abuse upon abuse of booze. He slept with visions of dancing sugarplums, or more appropriately, pink-haired chicks and lots of clay. The ultimate wet dreams of an artist: medium and boner-inducing inspiration.
Ideally he would have liked to get started on his latest project immediately, but alas. He needed quite a supply of clay which he did not possess at the moment, along with some money to purchase said clay. Which meant he was either prostituting for the night (preferably not), selling something, or working and not buying alcohol with his entire pay check. Prostitution he would save for when he was truly in need. He took out his flip phone and dialed back a recently missed call. He talked for a bit, hung up and looked around his apartment.
He was going to have to clean up a bit for his first customer.
/
Deidara opened the door with a smile chiseled on his handsome face. It did not suit him. "Welcome, come in, un?" He spoke quietly. The warmth in his tone was fueled by gasoline, not natural wood. The woman entered, returning his smile and welcome. Politeness is terribly dull.
"So," Deidara began. He wanted this to be over with as soon as possible. He generally hated people, and paying customers were absolutely not an exception. "You were interested in buying a sculpture?" He met the woman's eyes, looking through her to the clock her big, obnoxious, annoying head was blocking.
"Yes! Sasori had raved about a few of your pieces, and a few sounded like they would fit into my new house just perfectly!" The woman spoke quickly and efficiently, not missing a beat. Maybe this wouldn't take quite as long as he expected. He'd be able to take a smoke in a half hour, tops.
"Follow me, un." He spoke, leading her into the next room. The walls were freshly painted a dull, mature color Deidara hated. They would be dirtied with paint and clay in a week and he couldn't wait a minute longer.
"I was told you did a lot of birds, which is exactly what I'm looking for." The woman subtly looked Deidara up and down, but he wasn't oblivious enough to not take notice. He inwardly sighed. Tramp. He didn't have time for this. "Preferably a phoenix..."
"Right, un." Deidara brought her to the far side of the room, where his proudest piece perched with wings spread, ready to take flight. His baby, his one and only, his soul mate was about to leave him so a dumb, rich bitch could tell her house guests about how long the artist took to make it and how his hands cramped and laugh and flip her hair in utter euphoria as she inhaled another martini her personal bartender freshly made. "This is what you're looking for." Colors radiated from the creature's figure; this was where the rainbow ended.
"It's perfect!" The woman's eyes only looked over the master piece for a moment until her gaze reached Deidara's. She stepped towards the blonde. He stepped back. "What do you want for it?" Her tits seemed a bit too prominent for a simple meeting with an artist. "I'll pay in cash." And her jeans were just a bit too tight to match. Deidara smiled.
"Twenty, darling. Took a long ass time to make, un." The woman was unfazed. She nearly laughed.
"Just that? You got it, babe." A wallet emerged from her name brand Italian leather purse in an instant, an assembly of cards lining the inside and bills spilling out of the insides. She handed him thirty thousand dollars and grabbed hold of his arm before he could escape into the safety of his man-cave. She took a step closer to his lean frame, leaving Deidara trapped between her and the wall. She leaned into his ear, tickling it with her warm breathe and sweet nothings she rambled into every crevice and crater.
"I don't think this is appropriate... un." Deidara began, squirming away from the woman's touch. Her eyebrow cocked.
"Darling, you need to relax. Let me rub your shoulders. You can take off your shirt if you want... Lay on your bed, let me take care of you." She insisted, pulling on his arm again. The blonde huffed.
The woman was attractive enough, Deidara just didn't feel like dealing with some broad's bullshit at the moment. What seemed like a quick fuck turned into dozens of texts and phone calls and showing up to his house in the middle of the night crying about how he was an asshole for never talking to her again. Not worth it.
"I gotta go. I'll deliver the sculpture to your house tomorrow, un? Text me your address. You know where the door is..." And with that, Deidara slipped into his bedroom and locked the door. The woman's sultry facade disappeared and was replaced with rolling eyes and a loud huff.
"I'll be back." She uttered before slamming the door a bit too loudly. Deidara waited for a moment to make sure she left, and when he was positive the crazy woman was gone, he bolted to the front door to lock it.
"Crazy bitch..." He mumbled to himself before dialing Sasori's number. The phone rang twice before he heard a voice on the other line.
"Yes?"
"The fuck, un?"
"Yes?"
"Who's the crazy bitch!"
"She's alright."
"Fuck that, un."
"Did she try to fuck you?"
"Yeah."
"That happens sometimes."
Deidara rolled his eyes. Sasori always had the strangest connections, especially when it came to women. He had never, never met a normal girl through the red head, and he was convinced odd people were drawn to Sasori, and vice versa. He had been friends with the puppet master for a very long time and he could hardly consider himself normal, so the assumption was fitting.
"Did you fuck her, un?"
"Might have."
"Sick fuck."
"You sell?"
"Thirty thousand for the phoenix, un."
"Could have gotten more, dumb ass."
"I don't even care. Money is money, yeah. I'm happy she's out."
"Still gotta deliver it, pretty boy."
"Fuck."
And with that, Deidara hung up. Sasori may have been a sick fuck, but he did make a major sale. And women certainly like to talk... Which meant he would be having more horny, crazy ass women showing up at his door, handing him their money and dignity. They were all the same.
He grabbed a cup of coffee from the pot he had brewed before the crazy bitch arrived. Black as his soul, just the way he liked it. He grabbed a cigarette and his trusty lighter and headed outside. His jeans were a bit too ripped and dirty for his own liking, but he didn't have the time or patience to run his favorite pair through the wash and hang them to dry. Deidara brought the cigarette to his mouth and lit up. His stress and worries were exhaled with the smoke from his lungs.
Deidara thought for a moment before dialing a number on his phone, grinning when he heard the voice on the other line.
/
Sakura didn't know what she was supposed to wear. Jeans? A skirt? A dress? Nothing? She opted for black skinny jeans and a silky, pale blue top. Nude pumps gave her legs some extra oomph, even though her lean, muscular legs didn't necessarily need it.
Deidara had asked her what she was doing that night. She answered honestly, saying absolutely nothing. Had she sounded sad? Lonely? Bored? Regardless of how she sounded, the man had asked if she wanted to do something. Sakura replied honestly again: yes. So, here she was. About to knock on his apartment door with a nearly finished cigarette dangling from her lips. The door answered before she had a chance to raise her fist.
Deidara met her sea foam green eyes, a smile playing upon his face. "Come in, un?" He spoke, gesturing for her to enter his house yet again. Sakura smiled and stepped inside. The apartment seemed different this time... Cleaner. More... Boring. She didn't like it. It didn't seem very Deidara-esque.
"So, what are we doing tonight?" She asked, flinging the cigarette out of a nearby window. Deidara found this action nearly irresistible. He couldn't help himself from grinning again.
"Doing a little research for my sculpture of you." Deidara began, looking into her confused eyes. "Follow me, un." He grabbed a pack, a lighter and his wallet. She followed him without a question.
/
Deidara had somehow managed to lead Sakura to a seemingly popular club. She turned to look at him before making their way inside. Somehow, for whatever reason, popular clubs didn't really seem like his kind of place. He rolled his eyes at her look while grabbing her hand and led her to the bar.
"How is this helping your sculpture at all?" She inquired as her date for the night ordered them rum and coke. "Diet coke for me, please!" Sakura yelled to the bartender. He gave her an understanding nod.
"Fuck diet coke, un. And I need to see you relaxed, yeah? Not in business-lady mode? So have a drink and let loose. For me." Deidara spoke with a wink, taking his cup and downing it in an instant. Sakura shrugged and followed suit.
"Anyway," He began, ordering another drink for the two of them. "I want to see you dance, un." Sakura's jaw dropped.
"Me? Dance? But... Why?" She tried to spit out before Deidara downed his second drink and handed Sakura her cup. She looked at him, the drink, and back at him. His face seemed hopeful and eager. She down the drink and followed his lead onto the dance floor. She hardly knew what to expect as the upbeat, fast songs blared in their ears.
Sakura was surprised with how easily Deidara seemed to be moving and flowing; he appeared almost graceful for someone who had just slammed two drinks. She began rolling her hips to the beat and caught a nasty look Deidara threw a nearby man checking Sakura out.
"Sorry, cherry, but you're my partner for the night, un." He spoke in her ear, grabbing her hips and turning her around to have her back against his chest. Sakura almost gasped as he moved his hips at an impressive speed, catching her off guard.
"Is this an excuse to feel up my ass?" She inquired with a coy smile, almost yelping as she felt his hands reach for her bum.
"I don't need an excuse for that, un. But good try." For a seemingly antisocial artist, Sakura was floored by his charm and smoothness. She could feel herself getting more and more into the music and dancing as she let his hands roam over her body; from her ass to her hips to her midsection and, finally, to a playful squeeze of the tits.
"Woah! I have a boyfriend you know..." Sakura teased, only half kidding. Deidara returned his hands to her hips.
"But you're not with him, are you?" His utterly true statement struck a chord somewhere in her being. He was right. Her shitty boyfriend had ditched her yet again... So here she was. Dancing with some guy she had only met once before. Whose hands touched her in ways her boyfriend hadn't in quite some time. And she absolutely was not complaining.
"I need another drink." She replied, tugging his collar all the way to the bar once more. "Shot?" She asked. Deidara grinned from ear to ear and nodded his head. "Two shots of Jack, please!" She called to the bartender, breasts spilling out from her top. Deidara rolled his eyes yet again. The girl knows how to get what she wants. Which reminded him...
"To art!" He toasted, clinking his shot glass with hers. He placed a large bill on the counter and motioned to the exit. "I have better shit at home, un. Let's go. We can even discuss work if you want, chickadee." Sakura laughed.
"Okay. But no talking about work."
/
As they finally made it to his apartment, Deidara felt exhausted. But. He had a spunky pink-haired hottie on his arm, and he wasn't looking to disappoint her. Not tonight. Not while her boyfriend was mysteriously missing. He unlocked the door with ease and ushered her inside.
"Most of my shit is in my bedroom, un." He mentioned, leading her into his dark room. When he flipped the switch on, Sakura was hardly surprised. While the rest of his walls were painted over a boring, respectable color, the walls of his room remained splashed with an assortment of colors, and doodled with countless sketches. She liked it. A lot. He pointed to a cabinet in the corner, and when she opened it she was also hardly surprised.
"The fuck are you saving all this for?" She asked, gazing at the countless bottles. He shrugged.
"Pick your poison, cherry, un." He smirked when she popped open the new handle of Pinnacle Whipped. "You are such a girl, un." He teased before taking a sip. He motioned her to do the same, and she followed his lead without hesitation. When she looked around for a chair to sit in, he patted on his bed.
"Sit." Deidara commanded. She obeyed. He stretched across the length of the bed, arms sprawled out, looking at the back of Sakura's figure. He watched her put her hair up with utter amazement. She had a nice bone structure, and for once he was seriously thinking about his assignment. An odd thought crossed his mind and he acted upon an impulse.
Deidara brought his mouth to Sakura's unknowing ear, quickly licking the outer ring before speaking in a whisper. "You're bone structure is bangin', un." Sakura giggled, taking another sip. She quietly leaned back on the bed, laying on her side, facing the blonde. A strand of hair escaped her pony tail. Without a moment's hesitation Deidara leaned in to push the strand behind her ear, when the two somehow found themselves kissing into the other, tugging onto each other and finding themselves too close for comfort. Sakura found herself straddling Deidara, and Deidara found himself not complaining in the least. His hands squeezed her in familiar places, finally finding peace on her tight ass.
Sakura felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, and without thinking twice she threw it onto the floor, not even bothering to look at the name blinking on the flip phone's screen: SASUKE with a heart next to it.
Thanks for reading! The next chapter will reveal what exactly happened on this hot and heavy night! Please review, I love to hear feedback from readers like you! Thanks to all those who did review - I appreciate it so much!
-iiMNOTOKAY