Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, Akatsuki or any of the characters/concepts featured. All characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.

A jangling of keys was heard as Sasori unlocked the front door. He stepped inside and kicked it shut with the heel of his shoe. He held a portfolio to his chest; it was bursting with documents and coursework, and his fingers were so cold that they had become stuck to the plastic.

He grunted and shed his coat, leaving on the floor for the time being. He was far too tired to put anything away and a glance at the clock told him that it was nearly nine. It was a wonder that the school had stayed open for that long. Perhaps the librarian got paid more for working later...

Whatever the reason, Sasori had finally caught up with everything he had missed during the day, plus a little extra to secure a high grade. He smiled when he heard a hurried pattering of footsteps from the living room. Deidara's head appeared at the doorway, poking around the corner like a little mouse. A grin spread across his face.

'Danna, un!'

Sasori chuckled and allowed himself to be glomped. Though his hands were preoccupied with schoolwork, he could still rest his chin on his partner's shoulder.
He buried his nose in the long, blonde hair, nuzzling and absorbing all of the magical, strawberry-scented goodness.

Itachi may have had the upper hand before but now they were at home. That meant that Sasori was the only one to feel Deidara's warm body against his own, to talk with him, to hug him, and to give him everything he needed.

Sasori smiled at the thought and pulled back enough to see his beloved's face. His eyes were big and blue as always, and his cheeks were a little red, meaning he had probably cocooned himself in a blanket, or built a pillow nest.

That behaviour was fascinating.

'Danna?'

Sasori blinked a few times, as though he had just woken up from a deep sleep. 'Hm?'

'I didn't get the bus, un.'

Sasori scowled, disappointed, but before he could say anything, his uke stitched a few more words onto the end of his sentence.

'But it's okay; Itachi walked me home.'

Sasori's eyebrow twitched and he forced a smile. 'That's...great.'

'You're not mad at me, are you?'

'Not at all, not at all...'

Well, that was true. He could never be angry at Deidara; he loved the boy too much for that.

Itachi was a different story; he hoped the man choked in his sleep.

The sly weasel had obviously jumped at the opportunity to rescue the blonde from the bitter cold. He probably thought that he was being helpful, that he was Deidara's personal superhero or something. It made Sasori's stomach lurch in revulsion.

Only he knew what was best for his lover; Itachi wasn't even in the scenery of that picture. What if someone had attacked the both of them? What would the smug little Uchiha do then? His arms were like spaghetti; he couldn't punch his way out of a paper bag, let alone defend Deidara. He would've cowered by the curb, just like the worthless worm he was.

'Danna? Are you okay, un?'

Sasori snapped back to reality. Two large cyan eyes peered into his own, both filled with worry.

Sasori smiled. 'I'm fine,' he said, heaving his portfolio onto the shoe cabinet. As he did this, a thought struck him. This was the perfect time to score himself a few points and win his uke over again.

'Say, Deidara?'

'Hm?'

'Have you eaten anything tonight?'

Deidara opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a low rumbling sound. He blushed and covered his stomach. 'No, un...'

Sasori chuckled. So cute. 'Then how about we order a pizza? I've...finished my work, so we can stay up later.'

Deidara stared at him for moment, probably in the middle of registering the suggestion. When it finally did click, he grinned hugely. Offers like this were seldom put forward; he couldn't remember the last time his Danna had said such a thing. He had to grab it before it went away.

'Yes, un! Yes, yes, yes!'

Sasori looked on as his lover bounced into the living room, presumably to pick a movie to watch. It was wonderful to see him so happy, and even more wonderful to know that he had been the cause. Not Itachi, nor anyone else. He smirked and stalked pridefully towards the kitchen, as that was where the phone was kept. Even when placing an order, he still put his beloved's wishes before his own by ordering the blonde's favourite; Hawaiian.

Tonight he would put down his pencils and throw away his calculator.

Fortunately, the delivery didn't take very long, and pretty soon both males were snuggled up together on the sofa, an empty pizza box on the coffee table. Deidara had taken the liberty of building a pillow wall around them, for "extra warmth, un", and he nestled his head beneath his boyfriend's chin. It didn't matter that Sasori didn't wrap an arm around him; he could still hear the redhead's heart beat and that was more than enough.

It was always so slow and deep, as though it were speaking a language that only he could understand. It acted as a soothing lullaby and, before long, Deidara found his eyes slipping shut.

He tried his very best to fight against it, but ultimately lost the battle. The television screen was just too bright for him to cope with. He gave a quiet yawn and slumped against his lover, a blissful smile gracing his lips. It had been so long since he had experienced this level of closeness with his Danna; it was still astonishing that the redhead had decided to through with it, not that he was complaining.

He was warm and comfy, with pizza in his belly and Sasori by his side.

Said male smiled when he noticed his boyfriend had fallen asleep.

Deidara always looked so precious during his naps; with his silky, golden hair and rosebud lips, he looked a lot like Sleeping Beauty. Sasori allowed himself to drink in the adorable image. He wanted a photo, and possibly a Christmas card, along with a calendar and a mug.

Slowly, carefully, he manoeuvred himself out from under the blonde's lithe body. He then gently placed his arms beneath the boy's legs and back, intending to lift him, when he caught sight of something unfamiliar.

There, beneath one of the cushions, was a mysterious scrap of material. Only the corner was visible, the rest tucked away discreetly as though it were part of some dirty secret.

Sasori's droopy, brown eyes zeroed in on the object automatically. He had memorised his house from top to bottom; he knew exactly what he owned and that thing wasn't on the list.

He tenderly placed Deidara back on the sofa, grazing the blonde's cheek with his index finger. The boy stirred a little, probably from the sudden loss of heat, before rolling over and nuzzling the cushions.
Sasori tip-toed to the other side of the structure, his heart in his mouth. He could feel dread building in the pit of his stomach and he gulped as he pushed the cushions away, revealing what lay beneath.

A coat.

He scowled, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

It wasn't his and it certainly wasn't Deidara's. It did ring a bell but he couldn't fully place it.

Inhaling sharply, he plucked it from its position and held it at arm's length, as though it were contaminated. The folds of the material seemed to unravel, giving him a teasing glimpse of a name tag that had been sewn into the collar.
Growling, Sasori roughly gripped the clothing with both hands. He pulled it open, desperate to know the owner's identity.

His blood turned to ice.

There, written in some decorative, pretentious script, were the words "Uchiha Itachi".

They burned straight through Sasori's retinas.

Fire crawled over his skin, the flames seeping into his blood stream. It was a sensation that spread from his face to his toes.

He snarled and, in a fit of rage, he went to shred the ugly thing. He violently grasped the material, digging his nails into the delicate stitching and pulling with all his might. He tried to tear it limb from limb, as though Itachi were still wearing it. His face contorted in loathing and he cursed under his breath.

'Fuck! Fuck him! Damn him to hell!'

His frustration only escalated when he failed to achieve his goal. Whatever the coat was made from, it was stronger than diamond and he couldn't even make a tiny rip in its surface. He was about to hurl it across the room, when he heard a frightened whimper.

Deidara's brow furrowed in his sleep in he shifted his hips slightly. It put him in a very vulnerable position, his head leaning back to reveal his sun-kissed neck.

Sasori's expression softened. He sighed and lowered his arms, the hem of Itachi's coat dragging on the carpet. What was he doing? He was acting like a spoilt child! What kind of man would be so emotional? What kind of man would throw a tantrum over something like this? Even as he questioned his actions, he already knew the answer.

A man in love.

'Ugh...I need sleep,' he muttered, slinging Itachi's coat over his shoulder.

He moved around to the opposite side of the sofa, scooping up his lover for the second time that evening. Deidara curled up against his chest, obviously enjoying the feeling of being protected. His hands were no more than two fists, both of which covered his mouth. Sasori planted a soft, rare kiss on his forehead, and began making his way over to the stairs.

He'd sort out the pizza and the television later; his first priority was putting his uke ball to bed.

Despite the slight height difference, Deidara was easy for him to carry. After all, he was a very slim individual, which didn't make much sense considering the number of sugary treats he consumed.
Sasori entered their room, gently sitting down on the bed. He cradled his love in his arms, all whilst smiling like an idiot.

Deidara was everything he had; his life, his passion, even his reason. To hold such a fragile, sweet thing, all curled up like an armadillo...

His eyes drifted to the coat on his shoulder; due to the close proximity between it and his nose, he could tell that it smelt of vanilla. He screwed his face up and placed Deidara on the bed, before hastily discarding the item of clothing. He didn't want that bastard's scent anywhere near him.

He'd hang it on the back of his desk for now; tomorrow he'd personally return it to its rightful owner, along with a very stern warning.

With that thought in mind, he climbed into bed and snaked an arm around his lover's waist. He didn't much care that they weren't wearing pyjamas; all he wanted now was a peaceful night's sleep, safe in the knowledge that Deidara's body would remain against his.

He kissed the side of the blonde's head.

'Goodnight...'

So next time Sasori shall return the coat to his nemesis; will he control his temper? XD Thank you so much for reading; I know it's been a long time. T^T

I hope you enjoyed. Love ya! :D