After their first night shared together, Deidara had barely spent a night in his own dorm room.
He was careful, waiting until his housemates had gone to bed - and then shifting out of the flat and down the artificially lit staircase at late hours. The total juxtaposition from dark to blinding light made his eyes feel strained at times.
Giddiness kept him going; when he was returning back from the woods, often jogging back to his dorm to get a shower before his lessons, he carried a warmth. Even as he battled on in class, with achy limbs and eyes heavy from lack of sleep, the thrill of each evening spent with Sasori made it all worthwhile.
However, Deidara was glad when his landscape painting workshop finished that afternoon. He packed his gear away, and heavy legs carried him back to the dorm.
The blond was hoping to get some rest and food in him before having to start his coursework. The sculptor felt a twinge of guilt. He had been putting off his assignments in favour of spending more time with the demon. Deidara hn'd under his breath, grinning; no doubt Sasori would berate him for doing so.
As he rounded the corner of their shared corridor, he was met with an exclamation from Hidan.
"Blondie! You're alive!" The Jashinist cried out. He and Kakuzu were about to leave their flat - Kakuzu wearing a worn and yet heavy winter's coat, Hidan a faux fur lined Parker.
Deidara sucked his teeth as he placed his bag on the ground, rubbing a dab of paint from the side of his nose.
"Of course; did I have you worried, un?" The sculptor kept his tone light as he took his key out.
"We tried to get you to come to the bar last night; we were fucking hammering on your door at one point-"
Deidara sweated as he turned his back to the pair, opening his door. Shit. Shit - looks like his absences were being noticed, after all.
He took a deep breath before returning to the corridor, noticing Kakuzu's crossed arms.
"…I was out experimenting with my new art, un. The explosions…I have to be away from where the campus security will see, un." Offering that as his explanation. His friends knew how passionate he was about his craft, hopefully they would take the bait.
Hidan raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Whoa, nice. You'll have to show us sometime."
Kakuzu gave a quiet huff - he was impatient to get going.
"Sure, sure, un." Deidara replied happily, relieved he had got away with it. The artist made mental note to be even more careful in the future. Perhaps he should tone it down, not sneak out every night…
The blond couldn't help how his lips twitched at the notion. Sasori was addictive; feeling his cool skin against his own, the way the redhead could take over his body completely…
It was a delight that Deidara was not ready to abstain from.
The sculptor however did agree to join Hidan, Kakuzu and the rest of their friends in the flat for pre-drinks and then into town tomorrow night. His absence would stick out like a sore thumb should he not.
Resolute, the sculptor forced himself to complete as many of his assignments tonight as he could.
Hours later, the blond hurtled through Sasori's cave entrance, panting.
"…What's got into you?" The puppeteer remarked, brows raised.
Deidara tore his coat off and replied with a touch of chagrin. "I've just pelted it over here. Thought you would be worried I'm later than usual, un. So I ran over."
Sasori gave the artist a deadpan look as Deidara whipped his hat, gloves and scarf off - the weather was getting even chillier, especially at 1am.
"You have a life outside of here. Why would I be concerned…?" The redhead mused. Sasori resumed lighting some candles. The light and scent made the place feel homelier.
"Well, sorry for thinking you cared, un." The blond pleaded, in a mock-hurt voice. However, his eyes were bright, showing the radiance that spending time with your favourite person could bring.
The sculptor stepped over towards the puppeteer and wrapped his arms around Sasori's waist. He felt the demon move slightly, backing into his torso. One of Sasori's hand gripped against his forearm.
"…It would be a mistake to think so, eh?" The puppeteer breathed, his own eyes glinting.
He squeezed against the sculptor's muscle.
Later, Deidara was hungrily eating a pack-up of snacks he brought with him. He lounged on the bed as Sasori looked with furrowed brows at his essay.
"Uh…it's um." The redhead paused, shuffling the previous page back in focus. "-Right, it's certainly…expressive."
"OH COME ON." The blond groaned, giving the puppeteer an exasperated expression. He knew what the elder man's tone implied. "I can't catch a break, un." He shoved another chocolate biscuit in his mouth, crunching louder than usual in indignation.
Sasori glanced over to the sculptor, and whilst he still felt he needed to say what was required…the demon decided that brevity would do tonight.
"It's very you, Deidara. Full of passion and directness. That's how your professors know you, so I wouldn't worry so much." He placed the papers on his lap and twirled a pen in-hand. He worked quickly, senses absorbed.
The blond said nothing at the redhead's critique, yet his face showed less despondence.
By the time Sasori placed the essay back in Deidara's hand, the sculptor looked thoughtful, peaceful. The demon had checked his grammar and gave notations for sounder arguments.
"Thank you, un." The blond grinned. Sasori shrugged, as if he was not fussed, it was nothing, merely something to alleviate the boredom. Deidara however caught the lightness of the demon's movements round the cave, his uplifted demeanour. Go figure. The redhead seemed actually pleased to help.
Later, the sculptor had found a nook in the nape of the puppeteer's neck. Deidara and Sasori seemed to slot together like this most nights. In a comparatively short time since he and the demon had become intimate, his own bed felt empty and too spacious.
The blond thought sleep would grasp onto him that night after cramming, yet even in the small hours, he was wired. The demon realised it too.
"You're staring, you know." Sasori said under his breath. He shifted just so, inclining more towards the sculptor's body. The redhead still did not need sleep himself, although he was now able to drift into a trance like mediation, for a while at least. The presence of the blond, whether conscious or not, alleviated the painful loneliness enough.
Deidara was brought out his reverie by the other man's words. He traced a fingertip down the redhead's bare chest, jostling so his own head lay more on the demon's torso.
"I love this, un." The artist blurted, lips brushing against Sasori's skin as they uttered the few words.
Sasori felt twinge in his middle. He did, did he…
The puppeteer gripped a palm against Deidara's back as he mulled over an adequate response.
The demon's mind raced at what it might feel to hear a similar admission of love in the future. He felt embarrassed for thinking such things, and attempted to swerve his brain away from that digression.
Abashment, Sasori was sure, for resonating how much he would enjoy it. He was struggling in burying that particular glimmer of excitement down.
The puppeteer had to remind himself again, that it couldn't last forever.
Sasori was enamoured with the sculptor. He got jolts of nervous energy when he thought back to how they had spent the last couple of weeks. Nights filled with pleasure, and after, even sometimes at the dawn, the soft ambience of each other's being.
He felt connected to Deidara, in a way that he hadn't with anyone in a vast amount of time.
Yet something innate kept telling the redhead it would be wise to keep an arms length between them, before he fell too hard.
The futility of existence, that of mortal life…
What good could come of really falling in love with a human?
One that was eventually going to rot, decay…
Fade away.
Could he cope with that, when his soul had already been ripped apart?
Had he still a heart within his body, the torment of being alone again after experiencing something so real would break it apart.
Sasori realised he still hadn't responded to Deidara's statement. Feeling it was too late to do so, he said nothing at all.
Eventually, the blond broke the silence.
"I can't come over tomorrow night, un. My friends are out and I should go too."
Sasori didn't even flinch. Of course he should; there was more to life for the student than being holed up here with him.
Deidara exhaled slightly before speaking again.
"I wish I could be with you all the time, un."
At that, this time the redhead tensed up.
"What are you talking about?" The redhead said in a harsh voice. "You can't mean that."
He didn't realise it at the time, however his words came out more barbarous than usual due to his stewing on the futility of their situation.
The sculptor sat up; through the darkness, he could still the rough figure of Sasori. The demon cut him off before the blond had chance to refute.
"What would you do if you were trapped here with me, you'd implode from boredom and lethargy." The puppeteer spoke rapidly, as if the blond had touched a nerve. "You're the kind that needs thrill, even if you're the type to die young in a blaze of glory. Why do you think you kept showing up here, when you were shit-scared of me to start with?"
The demon turned away from the younger artist, brooding.
He felt a rush of emotions, those conflicting thoughts from before jostling against his ribcage.
Beauty was in the eternal.
Whilst the puppeteer was cursed, bound to these woods, he was at least permanent, enduring. Pitifully, not everything else was.
He had to remember that it was his burden and gift alone.
The sculptor sat back on his knees, legs a little parted. He was naked save from a loose pair of shorts that he slept in.
He merely raised an eyebrow at the redhead, though with only Sasori's back presented to him, the elder man would not see it.
"Finished?" He jibed at the demon.
Sasori seethed, sucking his tongue against his teeth. Yeah. Sure. He was finished.
The next morning, Deidara slept in longer than usual. He had no classes this morning, merely one seminar in the early afternoon. He relished in it, dozing in the puppeteer's makeshift bed.
When they had both stirred, the sculptor was once again laid against the redhead's torso. Something about their position being the same brought Sasori's mind to where it lingered last night.
His body felt tense.
After his outburst last night, the two artists had not conversed further.
He knew Deidara was awake, and the demon was rankled with what the younger man might do in the light of day.
The blond sat up, leaning against the stone of the cave wall.
His hair was shaggy, skin warm.
The conversation did eventually steer that way.
"What was all that about, last night, un?" The art student ventured. His tone was not hesitant. If anything, it was commanding. Deidara was done with having to run back over to these woods, having to claw information or meaning out of Sasori.
The aforementioned demon also shifted so he was sitting up in the bed, taking a position across from the sculptor. Sasori did not plead ignorance. With a grip on the blanket covering their legs, he replied.
"Trying to stop you from getting any funny ideas."
The blond scoffed. "Meaning, un?"
The demon gave him a beseeching look.
"Don't say you want to stay here with me. Visit, by all means - but you cannot stay forever. It's simply not possible."
The sculptor's gaze was heavy. He didn't reply for a few seconds, until he tilted his head to the left and mused aloud to the redhead. "Do you often go to forevers straight away?"
Sasori bit back.
"You're the one that said you wanted to be here all the time."
Deidara pursed his lips, a redness peeking though the hair that swished over most of his face.
"When did I say here, un?" Again, the sculptor's voice was strong, backing his sense of worth.
"Is it wrong to want to share other things with you? Be together for more…After all, you said it yourself, why else would I keep coming here, un? " He let his voice trail off, as if it needed no further elaboration.
At that sentiment, the demon was temporarily floored. He was now clenching a fist, holding the sheet firm. Sasori stared down at the fabric rather than back at the artist.
No. He supposed it wasn't wrong.
Now, the blond's voice was more tentative. He resonated his earlier words had got through to the puppeteer.
"Now, is there anyway at all…that could be a possibility, un?"
Later that night.
Deidara shuddered as the tequila shimmied down his throat.
Aaaargh.
He bit into the lime, the juices flooding into his mouth.
The music thundered around him.
Pein was talking loudly in his ear; words were trailing over the sculptor's head.
Hidan clutched his arm, wrenching him away from the bar, and the music took hold. Kisame had managed somehow to persuade Kakuzu, Konan and Pein to do one more shot before they too dived into the jostle of revellers.
The crowd was surging, and the music took hold, the baseline soaring Deidara's energy.
He jumped into it as the beat dropped, taken away by the feeling.
The blond shared the intensity with his friends, glad he had come out after all.
The sculptor noticed Itachi to his left. He gripped the raven's arm and twirled him around the dance-floor.
The blond, Uchiha and Jashinist all piled into the smoking area some time later.
Hidan lit up a cigarette, and Deidara took a drag.
The artist lost track of the conversation momentarily; he'd probably had too much to drink. When he managed to catch on to Hidan and Itachi's talk, the sculptor latched onto an interesting thread.
"Your eyes see everything, huh?"
Itachi merely inclined his head. Hidan thumped him on the back.
"No kidding. Well, that's me and the grumpy bastard busted." The silver-haired man finished his cigarette, stubbing it out with gusto. "Sucks to be you though - now we have no reason to not shag as loud as possible. Better invest in some noice cancelling headphones. Sure that Uchiha trust fund can pay for some."
Deidara snorted; he had missed this - and it seemed, a developing relationship between his close friends. Happy for them both, the blond felt a flurry of jitters. Screw already having too much, he needed another drink.
Excusing himself from Hidan and Itachi, he scampered back to the bar. Deidara was delighted for Hidan and Kakuzu, yet as his blurring vision took in the rancid corridor carpet on the way back to bar, he was having to combat a swathe of longing. Really, it was ridiculous; he and the puppeteer had not been in each other's lives more than a few weeks. And yet, he was already putting such ample feeling into the redhead.
He shouldn't want for too much, too soon…right?
Though, in fairness, it's not like their 'relationship' or whatever it was was typical, normative.
As he waited to order at the bar, Deidara's erratic thoughts jumped back to this morning with Sasori…
The demon's bewildered expression when the sculptor explained his ideal, getting the puppeteer free from his seal within the woods…
The puppeteer's initial disdain.
"You're playing out a fantasy. Nothing is that simple." He had lectured.
"Will we know unless we try, un?"
Sasori pushed him away, dressing speedily. Deidara took the hint, collecting his discarded clothes. Packing the essay the demon had helped him write last night. It felt a lifetime ago.
It was pointless arguing, that was not the sculptor's intention. Merely, this simple notion;
"Just…think about it, un?" The blond offered, as he stood in the bracken outside the cave's entrance. Sasori had porcelain fingers perched against the crevice of the stone, not quite meeting Deidara's eyes.
His demeanour was subdued now rather than prickly, however.
The two lovers were clearly in that spirit that right passion brings, a reluctance to say goodbye to each other, however near the next meeting will be.
Although Deidara did not know the puppeteer's internal thoughts, for his part, Sasori was at a loss of what to say right now.
This was another instance where this sculptor had surprised him.
That this man would be desirous, truly, to free him from the seal that bound him to the woods forever. That he would let Sasori into his life like this…
The demon looked back up at the blond, his eyes peering out from below his scarlet fringe.
"If you really want to do this…to break the seal placed on me." He didn't blink as he held the other man's azure gaze. "Are you prepared for what that might mean? What it might require?"
The blond's acute look was not lost on the puppeteer.
"Of course." The student had replied.
Sasori had stepped forwards, gripping Deidara's jacket just underneath the blond's hood and yanking it towards him. The demon kissed him with avid need, their lips sensual and tender.
It took a while longer until the art student could return back to campus.
Back at the bar, Deidara took a thirsty guzzle of his vodka and coke as it arrived, slopping some of it down his chest.
He cared not; the hour was late and the club was becoming frantic.
He spun around, glassy eyes trying to watch the crowd. The sculptor wasn't sure if he wanted to see his friends right now or not.
What he did want, however, was to put his plan in motion as soon as possible.
Tomorrow, it would begin in earnest.
Itachi's forearm on his own brought his senses lucid.
"There you are. Thought you'd done an Iwa-goodbye."
The Uchiha was referring to Deidara's tendency to dip out of a social exchange without saying he was leaving, resulting in his friends having to blow up his phone on his whereabouts.
The blond gave him a lazy grin in response.
"And you came to find me. You're actually very kind, deep down, aren't you…Itachi, un." Deidara's words were just begging to slur.
"…And you're very drunk." Itachi said cooly. He snaked his arm right under the blond's arm and hoisted him up. Deidara had started to slide down whilst leaning against the bar. Itachi helped the sculptor outside, keeping his frame steady. A raucous night bus was awaiting them.