Random author's note: it's Valentine's Day this week! And that means this fanfic might end soon… well, unless I can come up with more things to write about. I'm running out of ideas anyhow.

Sasori dragged his tired, aching body out of his own bed. He'd trudged back to his room a mere hour before daybreak and he hadn't had much sleep, even though he was dead tired. His muscles were sore and his mouth felt chafed and raw: the experience sure comes with downsides he thought glumly as he rinsed out his mouth with a cupful of tap water. He grabbed his toothbrush and started to brush, scrubbing his teeth vigorously in a vain effort to make himself feel fresh again. Suddenly, his hand slackened and his toothbrush cluttered into the sink. Sasori cocked his head in confusion. What was wrong with him?

He retrieved the brush from the bottom of the sink but didn't continue the routine. He cleaned it and, not bothering with a shirt, glided as smoothly as he could into the blinding light of the dining room, where a ceiling-to-floor window offered a stunning view of a deep, winding valley but also let an ocean of piercing sunlight in that made a hangover or the result of an all nighter ten thousand times worse.

He glanced placidly around the room, a general sweep, and finding no waterfall of blonde hair he relaxed a little and trudged towards the fridge. Rather than his usual strong cup of espresso, he poured himself what Deidara usually drank: a tall glass of strawberry milk. Sasori had always seen strawberry is a very childish flavour and though he supposed Deidara was still a kid, he'd always disapproved.

Today, however, was an exception. Sasori smiled to himself, held the glass before him for a few seconds, contemplating, before taking a sip.

It didn't taste half bad. He was savouring the taste, rolling it around his mouth, tasting the heavy sweetness on his tongue, when Hidan's rough voice cut the still morning air like a knife.

"Chuck us a chocolate,"

Sasori licked the milk moustache above his upper lip and set the glass down with a gentle clink.

"Oh, it's you," Hidan stretched and yawned, his hair looking grimy and flecked with bits of dirt. "Thought it was someone else,"

Sasori said nothing. His body still ached, but after that mouthful of strawberry milk, his body had started aching for Deidara.

"So…chuck us a chocolate milk, will you?"

Sasori shrugged inwardly and poured some. He passed it to Hidan wordlessly, who eyed Sasori warily, unsure of the puppeteer's sudden obedience. Sasori could hold it in no longer he put his own glass down—it was still three quarters full—and walked as normally as he could out of the room.

Hidan shrugged. Sasori was always the weird guy.

**

Sasori found himself at Deidara's workshop—an extension from his room, and a modest chamber that was hidden from plain sight—with his chest feeling tight yet filled with air. He heard the sound of Deidara's fingers working and walked straight in, glad that this at least had a door that was able to be locked.

He caught Deidara by surprise when he hugged him from behind, pressing Deidara's back against his torso, burying his nose in the blonde strands. Deidara felt Sasori's fingers ever-so-slightly hook into his shirt, his black nails iridescent on the whiteness of the cotton.

Deidara felt a small blush creep across his cheeks and he briefly wondered if Sasori was blushing too.

"Hey," Deidara gently touched Sasori's elbow. "What's up, un?"

Sasori answered with his fingers, which dug a little deeper into Deidara's flesh, pressing down in the way which implied very obviously that Sasori missed him—even though it had only been a short period since they'd parted earlier that morning. Little did he know that Sasori had done a lot of thinking since then: Sasori, in truth, did not want to just be "friends with benefits". He didn't want to maintain a relationship, either, but he wanted to be Deidara's only one. He tried to think of Deidara sleeping with other men and couldn't take the thought. His head had started to throb and his eyes actually stung with tears at the hypothetical situations. He was a bit obsessed and he knew it, but…

Sasori's eyes blinked open and he peered through Deidara's hair. Deidara's fingers were lightly coated in smears and lumps of clay. Sasori smiled to himself and buried himself in the smooth curve of Deidara's neck and shoulder, his lips brushing against the skin there. He savoured the moment, willing Deidara not to do anything just yet. Or, if he did, let it be romantic…

But Deidara was thinking entirely the opposite: he was an eighteen year old boy. His sexual desires were far stronger than Sasori's, and with Sasori presenting himself to Deidara like this…

"Sasori," Deidara swivelled around. "Let's do it again,"

Dammit, Deidara Sasori almost rolled his eyes must maintained his usual demeanour of cold calamity. He tried hard not to show his disappointment and slight irritation.

"Please?"

Deidara didn't wait for an answer and, stripping off his shirt, embraced Sasori, wrapping the petite redhead in a firm hug, his arms curling around the paleness of Sasori's slender neck as his mouth—the lips a little dry as well—met Sasori's, with the tip of his tongue at the ready. Sasori felt the practically searing heat of Deidara's body, as if his desire, his passion had influenced his body temperature and now it felt like it was burning. Sasori wanted to stop him and tell him what he wanted to do—which was to cuddle and maybe talk a little—but at the same time he didn't want to tell him to stop. He didn't want to offend Deidara. He supposed he should be a bit flexible and let Deidara have his way before proposing his idea of having a romantic day. And touch on the whole friends with benefits thing.

Deidara savoured the softeness of Sasori's lips, getting that familiar feeling that he was about to get really, really turned on. He tensed his legs a little and counted to three before sliding his hands down from Sasori's neck to his hips.

"Take this off, danna," Deidara nudged Sasori a little with a push of his hands but, unable to stop himself, found himself reaching for Sasori's buttons and pushing the two halves of his coat apart, rewarded with the milky, firm skin stretched over knots of muscle that was Sasori's chest. Deidara pushed the rest of the garment off Sasori's arms and slid his hands up and down the slight arch of Sasori's back when he leaned in towards Deidara.

"Can we try…it…today?" Deidara asked, trying not to sound too eager.

Sasori looked at him in an almost bored way. But he nodded.

Score. Deidara grinned and pulled Sasori into him again, kissing the puppeteer's cheeks, his nose, his ear, then his jawbone, all the while his hands inching down towards Sasori's ass and crotch.

Sasori did nothing.

I'll tell him after we—

His thought was cut short when Deidara finally yanked Sasori's pants down.