Deidara had barely a minute to himself today. The following morning, after their trip to Kakuzu and Hidan's place, he was squarely back at work. Deidara was a Demolitions Operative; his team's purpose on this week's site was to bring down a disused cooling tower on an energy plant. He was getting up to speed on the latest plans in this cramped site office. Detritus of rolls of drawings, discarded coffee-stained cups, and boots caked with dried mud piled up around him.
The blond rubbed his eyes. Around him, there were two others wedged into this small office. Stuffy air filled the cabin; Deidara felt cramped and closed up in here. Tomorrow, the main demolition work would begin, what the client was paying him for. Until then, he was compelled to sit tight and focus on the planning.
Feeling antsy in the stagnant atmosphere, Deidara stood up and made a sudden movement toward the door. Fuck it. He needed to get away for a bit. Stepping outside, he squinted as a blast of bright sunlight squarely met his eyes.
The young man walked away from the cluttered cabins, looking out to the clear sky. After a little while, his azure eyes were becoming less strained. The blond admitted that he was feeling agitated today. But why?
Deidara kicked at the ground with his boots. His tired eyes alighted on the sight, the almost sand-like ground casting a crumb on the stubborn leather. It prompted Deidara to cast his mind back to yesterday's conversation in the car with Sasori.
"I hate the beach."
"NO, come on, how?!"
"Easy. I can't stand the feeling of sand, the idiots prancing about, scalding themselves until they turn into lobsters-"
As the puppeteer began his passoned tirade against beachfronts, the blond's eyes roved across Sasori's crimson hair; he's one to talk about people looking like lobsters, Deidara thought ruefully.
"-So, the beach is out." The redhead declared, his voice deadpan.
The sculptor leant back against the car seat, feeling exasperated. This journey felt a lot longer on the way home. Trying to agree on a destination for the stag do with Sasori was proving most challenging. He had so far shot down all of Deidara's suggestions.
"Fine. Fine. At this rate, I'll settle for a one-way ticket to the moon, un." Deidara called out, sullenly.
They agreed to pick up this discussion another time.
Coming back to the present, Deidara leaned against one of the barriers, relishing the warmth from the sun's rays on his back. He hn'd, after thinking over his conversation with the prickly redhead.
Every interaction with Sasori was like pulling a lucky-dip prize. Would Deidara have to deal with a sarcastic remark, or pure disdain? However, despite Sasori's coldness, Deidara was drawn to him. Sasori was not reserved as first impressions gave - he was snarky and Deidara liked his astute nature. Sasori was also savagely funny; when they played the board game together last weekend with Hidan and Kakuzu, Sasori had completely trounced them in the first round. He had ripped Hidan to shreds for his terrible choices when they played Catan; Deidara's side had hurt from laughing so much.
Deidara took a moment reliving the memory before heading back to work, feeling somewhat calmer.
By the time it was Thursday night, Sasori felt on top of things. He had cleaned up, had got food in the house, and was enjoying being back in his creature comforts.
He spent a pleasant evening carving a number of crocodile fangs for his latest puppet. This particular beast was low and broad; it was an interesting challenge to make the design unique. Sasori was intrigued by the way crocodiles hunt, waiting deadly patient until it was the very moment to strike. He was motivated to capture that essence within his artform, preserving it forever in his favourite cedar wood.
After a few hours, Sasori padded downstairs, going to fetch a drink from the kitchen. His living room was enshrouded in darkness. Sasori's floors were dark laminate wood; one large rug overlayed the central lounge area, where a single sofa and armchair angled around. The sofa was brown leather, bought many moons ago second-hand. The cracks in the leather were beginning to show, despite rubbing some treatment on the rough edges. Sasori had attempted to make it look modestly pleasing by placing a couple of navy cushions on the couch. Each one was firmly plumped up, and set in place.
Sasori had no photographs on the walls. In their place, there were shelves filled with stacks of books. The room had no light trap and his choice of decor was delicate, neutral tones. Sasori wasn't a fan of flashy colours; and despised turning the glaring overhead lights on.
If Sasori were actually relaxing in his lounge, he would turn on one of the lamps dotted around for more muted illumination and retreat to the armchair to read. His particular interest at the moment was ancient Egyptian history. His collection contained dozens of different theses and journals of anatomy, botany and even the odd poetry book. Although Sasori had a lot of possessions, including his impressive self-built puppets which resided in his workshop upstairs, he was very neat. He prized looking after things properly; and mess set his teeth on edge.
Sasori paused, not for the first time this week, to look over toward Deidara's house.
The lights were off there too. That fact was not inherently surprising since it was late…However, they hadn't turned on once all week.
Sasori lingered, still not quite advancing to the kitchen. His brain was fighting an internal duel.
Eventually, the curious side won out, and the redhead's light footsteps carried him to the window. He peered out to the driveway; Deidara's car was still absent.
The puppeteer leant the side of his head on the glass, feeling the cooling sensation straight away. Sasori now knew the blond had sometimes travelled for work. It was only natural, he supposed, that was where Deidara was currently…
The puppeteer dawdled, not moving away from the pane straight away. He felt strangely melancholy; a peppering of unease had entered his psyche.
As he was affixing an eye joint into his reptile puppet, the redhead was gripped by an unpleasant realisation.
He suddenly felt a lurch, like something hadn't agreed with his stomach. His fingers stumbled on the fixing, and he dropped the glass eye on the ground. Sasori crouched down, trying to get his senses together. The thing that turned his insides sideways was remembering how he used to look out the window for his parents, wisps of childlike thoughts emanating from his breath as he pleaded to the stubborn nothingness of the wind for them to come back. Even back then, Sasori learned quickly to keep his voice low, so his grandmother wouldn't hear him.
The adult Sasori tried to wrench his mind back to the present. He gripped the fixing in his palm, attempting to steer his brain away from those unpleasant memories.
The puppeteer felt something sticky in his hand. He glanced down, his pupils narrowing. Sasori's palm was bleeding; he had crushed the fixing. The puppeteer exhaled slowly, putting the device down. His movements felt ghostly as he ventured into the bathroom. Sasori climbed into the shower, on a whim deciding to rinse his whole body rather than just wash the blood from his hand.
The water thundered around him. The puppeteer pushed his hair back, feeling the strands between his fingers as it got soaked with the moisture. As Sasori tried to wash his thoughts down the drain, one tether kept him rational; he knew he didn't want to feel that desperation ever again.
.
The puppeteer's mood was still sour as he preserved through his Friday at work. Thankfully, it had been a steady day. Still, despite his best efforts in squashing that feeling firmly down; even just internally acknowledging that very effort caused Sasori's heartbeat to reside somewhat nearer his throat than usual.
As he turned into his driveway, it took Sasori a hot minute to realise that Deidara's car was parked there too.
The puppeteer stalled his movements to the front door when he noticed it.
Sasori let out a dry cough as he continued towards his front door, whipping his keys out as quickly as possible.
It was funny; all week, he had been keeping half an eye open for Deidara; yet now the blond was back, Sasori found he didn't want to be spotted by his neighbour.
Pulse quickened, Sasori was eager to close the door firmly behind him, blocking out the ether of real, perplexing life.
.
It was one of those summer days where heat permeated through the buildings. This continued long into the afternoon, beams of light warmed as well as illuminated.
That Saturday, Deidara was making the most of summer's embrace by lounging in his garden. It was modest, made up of only a square of grass and some rickety paving slabs that had seen better days. Yet, it was his; tall hedges gave him some privacy from neighbours around him.
Deidara scratched his nose, thinking about his neighbour to the left. He hadn't seen Sasori since departing from the puppeteer's car the previous weekend. Sasori was as tightly wound as he feared, yet there was…something about him. His self-assured nature and his judgemental, piercing glares were especially alluring. Deidara wondered what would meet Sasori's approval and what made him tick deep down.
How did he come to be as spiky as he was? What led from his hometown to this city where they both lived in now?
These questions pooled in Deidara's intrigue towards his aloof neighbour.
Deidara rolled over, laying on his front. He was topless whilst sunbathing. His skin felt heated; he touched fingertips against his side, tracing against his ribs.
As he did so, Deidara's mind flirted with the idea of having someone else make those movements.
It had been a little while since he'd been with someone; the absence of want had crept up without his notice or reckoning. The blond crossed arms beneath his chin, resting his head on the limbs, thinking back to the last time, a few weeks ago now.
He had gone back with someone he had met in a club; gone back to his, had somewhat of a good time.
Although, this guy was a bit too…eurgh, though. The blond hadn't wanted to follow up with him for another round, anyway. He kept telling the sculptor how much he would make him explode, and yet…
Deidara rolled back onto his back, one leg outstretched and the other bent at the knee. He was beginning to feel restless, despite his earlier fatigue.
The sculptor wryly thought it would be exciting to be with someone who would follow through with that game talk.
The blond's eyes relaxed; as he let the sunlight bathe his skin, somehow, Deidara found himself thinking once again of his neighbour. Deidara's arousal built up….he was imagining a scenario within his mind's eye.
Not the first time, Deidara's inner thoughts deviated to the look the puppeteer had given him in the suit shop.
Studious, unrelenting.
Almost…unyielding.
Deidara was moved by this tangible attraction to Sasori. He leant into this feeling, one part bemused, and another exhilarated.
His mouth quickly went dry as Deidara's thoughts honed in on the redhead. He felt his cock harden.
The blond's jaw clenched; he would need to do something about this. Not long after, Deidara pulled out his phone and began to type frantically.
.
Sasori paced around the kitchen. He checked his phone once. Less than a minute later, as he could wait no longer, he opened the message again. To his irritation, the message was stubbornly unread.
He was about up to here with peeved embarrassment.
Deidara had messaged him earlier, asking if he was free to talk.
The sculptor had mentioned stag do planning at the end of his message; Sasori had replied cordially enough, saying he was free if the blond wanted him to come over.
However, that was hours ago, and Deidara hadn't even read his reply, let alone responded in an affirmation.
Sasori glowered back towards his phone. His agitation about being asked to participate in something and then hearing radio silence was egregious, to say the least.
It made him want to be direct.
His pulse thundered in his temple as he strode over to the front of his house and wrenched the door open.
In no time at all, he was banging on Deidara's.
Come on, come on…His patience was wearing very thin, indeed.
The redhead felt a jolt in his middle as Deidara opened the door.
.
Sasori looked flushed, and had a haughty mannerism reverberating around him.
Deidara's breath caught in his throat. Not some hours ago had he been fantasising about this very man who stood in front of him.
The blond swallowed, trying to ignore the heartbeat radiating in his chest.
Deidara had a tougher time hiding the emotion from spilling out to his face - he was agog as Sasori began speaking.
"Are you blanking me or something? I messaged you back hours ago." Sasori lambasted. His tone was coarse, and louder than Deidara had heard him speak previously.
"Uh…I haven't been on my phone; been busy, un." The blond attempted to recover his composure. In truth, he'd just had a long-ass shower and applied a hair mask whilst watching TV, indulging in pampering.
The sculptor told himself not to check his phone too quickly, lest he be disappointed by the redhead's response…Or lack of it.
Sasori exhaled through his nostrils, clearly unimpressed. The puppeteer took a moment to rein in his emotions rising to the top. Yet, despite his annoyance, a pleasant scent caught his attention. A musky, yet summery, smell filled this area between the two men. Sasori eyed Deidara; was that him? Sasori wondered. He decided to keep these musings to himself.
"Whatever." Sasori eventually threw out, staring downwards. His eyes alighted on the blond's legs, visible beneath soft, peach-coloured shorts. They were so short the fabric barely grazed the sculptor's thighs.
The sight sent the redhead's heightened mind into meltdown. He, too, felt off-balance, perturbed.
Sasori swallowed, forcing out some words. "…We really should decide on this stag do; the sooner we box it off, the better." His tone was direct, unable to completely steady his rise.
Deidara tried to stop the disappointment from seeping out. Was that really all Sasori wanted to talk about? How…disheartening.
Though, really, he had measured this expectation by bringing their best man duties into the equation when messaging earlier…
The sculptor pursed his lips before opening the door, beckoning the redhead to come into his home.
Sasori took in the sculptor's living room. It was airier than his was; the room's central colour was a cool turquoise with some comfy-looking lounge seats. There was a low coffee table that had sculptures dotted around, each in various stages of drying out. It looked like Deidara had been working on his artwork earlier, the redhead realised. The lounge was furnished with soft carpet, and photos plus other trinkets were assembled in obscure places, such as on top of the TV and on the inner-alcove of the window ledge. There was even a random pink post-it note smacked onto a large, round clock face hung on the near wall opposite the porch entrance. He couldn't quite make out the spidery writing, and so Sasori only raised an eyebrow at this unusual sight as he continued into Deidara's home.
It was kind of strange to be in a mirror of his home's layout. Sasori found it rather more put together than he expected of Deidara. As well as bright, happy memories emanating out of each picture frame, the place was clean and well looked after.
There was a stagnant awkwardness in the air as Deidara fished a beer from the fridge and handed it wordlessly to Sasori.
As the two men sank into one of the lounge seats, Sasori felt his face warm. It had been a hot day, he reflected.
"So…you had any bright ideas whilst I was away, un?" The younger drawled. He took a fortifying swig of beer.
Sasori raised his eyebrows; really, the blond was annoying at times. Why hadn't he thought of anything further?
Still…Sasori sniffed, as he considered that if he got his idea in first, and sold it well, he might face less opposition to running with it.
"Simply; we rent this place out." He showed Deidara a photograph on his phone. He was referring to a converted barn with a spacious lounge and guest rooms; it even had a small pool.
Deidara eyed Sasori, a cautiousness inching up as he read the address. Was it a coincidence that the redhead had picked somewhere near his former home? The blond leaned in a fraction, peering at the phone. In response, the redhead shifted a little closer to Deidara.
With this closer proximity to the younger male, Sasori took in the blond's essence; he smelt that almost earthy scent once again. It filled his nostrils, even if Sasori didn't want it. The redhead hastily stowed the phone away, this time shunting further from Deidara.
Deidara noticed Sasori scoot away from, hearing the dull thud of the movement on the seat, and hastily picked back up the conversation. "It looks great, my man…but…what are we going to do there, un?" He leaned back, taking another sip of his beer. The bubbles felt welcome on his tongue. Deidara was still feeling elevated. That arousal from earlier hadn't been truly quashed, after all.
"Ah well-" Sasori paused, thinking over how he was going to broach this. His mind was not entirely with it; he felt slower than usual. Still, he forced himself to persevere. "-Here is where I need you to do your part. The airfield; can we rent out some experiences? Flights with pilots, tricks in the air - basically, some daredevil stuff to keep Hidan happy."
Now Deidara felt a rush coursing through his veins as Sasori's words bathed over him. He stalled before answering.
As the younger man went uncharacteristically quiet, it actually disturbed the redhead somewhat. So much so, Sasori hunched over towards the sculptor and actually waved a hand in front of Deidara's face.
"Brat? Are you listening to me?" The redhead accused harshly, checking that the blond was taking in what he was saying. The puppeteer would be aggrieved to have to repeat himself.
Coming to, Deidara reacted on instinct. He reached out, grabbing hold of Sasori's wrist. The action caused Sasori's eyes to widen.
Deidara spoke forthrightly, words tumbling out. "And here's me thinking you would be a complete wet-lettuce; how did you know I did flying, un?!" His expression was of joyful bewilderment.
Sasori was still fixated on the sight of Deidara's hands gripping his wrist. He pushed his lips together before responding, a little delayed.
"Um.…Your profile picture gave it away." His voice came out unsure, with hesitant intonation. Internally, Sasori's mind was whirring, plagued by the sensations of Deidara's touch, rather than focusing on eloquent speech.
Deidara inclined his head, acknowledging the redhead's statement. Go figure; he was beginning to learn that Sasori was extremely perceptive. He dropped his hold on the older man. Deidara's heart felt like it was glowing.
Sasori felt his cheeks burn; he suddenly became very interested in drinking his beer. He focused on the taste, holding the malty, bubbling liquid in his mouth before swallowing. Once he had a large gulp, Sasori began hastily steering the conversation to what plans they needed to make.
After a couple of beers, the puppeteer was willing to acknowledge that Deidara had his uses in these best man duties. Sasori stretched his legs out a little, a dull ache was wearing on his calves. His feet settled on the comforting feeling of Deidara's grey lounge carpet.
Birds twittered from outside, cradling the artists in a crescendo of night calls. It was approaching dusk, the heat finally beginning to fade.
Deidara tapped his index lightly against the bottleneck of his own drink, watching Sasori closely. The glass was warmed from his touch. The redhead was beginning to unwind, the younger artist noticed. When Sasori entered Deidara's home earlier, he sat up rigidly, like he was waiting at the dentist.
Now, however…Deidara deciphered how Sasori was reclining on the seat to him, the puppeteer's arm resting casually on the back of the seat, propping a balled-up fist against the side of his head.
Deidara took in the curve of his neighbour's arm, observing the freckles on the puppeteer's skin; they had appeared more pronounced after the recent heat wave.
"…So if we get that sorted, I think that solves it." Sasori breathed a small smile as he concluded their planning session, tilting his head towards Deidara. Sasori's hair stuck out, falling over his brows. It seemed to get more wild as the evening stretched on. Yet, even as his eyelashes blinked against his fringe, his scarlet tresses could not mask that intensity within Sasori's attention.
At this glance, Deidara felt a rise within him. Fuck, the puppeteer was definitely igniting something to him right now. Maybe he was getting carried away by the heat and beer, but he had to hope Sasori might have clicked onto the same thought…the way Sasori was looking at him right now made the blond feel it was very much a prospect.
"Sure, un." Deidara finally spoke up, after musing on those amorous thoughts. He decided to be bold. "Still, un…" The blond drew out the syllables. "…It's rather daring of you, un. Not quite what I'd expect." Deidara drew his legs up, tucking them up on the sofa.
The sculptor eyed the puppeteer, taking in the delicate grey hue of Sasori's irises. The expression affixed on his face was intriguing; Sasori looked almost winded. Deidara reached out, at first lightly drawing a finger up the redhead's forearm, before wrapping his whole grip around Sasori's wrist. Deidara kept a steady pressure applied as he spoke forwardly. "Makes me wonder what else you would be up for, un." He deliberately left the sentence hanging in the air between them.
The suggestive intent of such words was evident to the puppeteer straight away. However, he was slow to react; Sasori's mind had trouble processing what was happening. If anything, he felt shivers as Deidara began tracing against his skin.
His pulse was racing…Too quickly was he having to fathom this new information; Deidara's closeness, his touching, that damned comment…Was it a question? Was he meant to answer?!
Despite the irrefutable kindling of excitement, Sasori fought against it. He grabbed onto the back of Deidara's hand, wrenching it away from his wrist. As Sasori yanked, it pulled Deidara's whole arm away, pushing the blond further away from Sasori.
Still holding tight to Deidara's hand, holding it out away from his chest, Sasori's mouth set into a firm line as he pressed fingertips into the blond's skin. It was a reflection of his agitation; had they been standing, Sasori may have wanted to shake Deidara forcefully, if only to knock some sense into his neighbour. He didn't say anything, too flustered to speak right now.
Deidara felt the roughness of Sasori's fingertips; chiselling wood all night would do that to your skin. Although Sasori had swatted his touch away, Deidara also noticed that Sasori was still holding onto his hand, even if he was beginning to dig into the skin. If Sasori was trying to beat him away, he was doing a shoddy job.
The light from outside was now a rich amber; as a car revved angrily past in the street outside, shadows from its movement danced on the walls above the two men. Deidara moved backwards on the couch, and as Sasori was still holding onto his hand tightly, Deidara dragged the puppeteer with him. Sasori ended up half-on top of Deidara, and he directed a fiery glare down at the sculptor. Sasori's face was a myriad of emotions, his shoulders tensed.
Deidara's own face was lit up. He found it enthralling to have Sasori almost lying on him like this. His torso could sense Sasori's warmth; even from just this short moment.
Sasori's free hand was holding onto the edge of the sofa for dear life. The comforting nature of Deidara's lounge had given way to this strange, new heady environment.
It didn't help that the damn look Deidara was giving him right back was….it was…
Fuck.
Sasori struggled to refute that it wasn't sending a coursing furore of his senses.
The sculptor clocked this; where his legs had been drawn up on the couch before, Deidara opened them wide, wrapping them on either side of the redhead's hips. He saw the flash of warning in Sasori's eyes; however, Deidara was not deterred. The blond slightly narrowed his eyes, meeting Sasori's steely expression.
"What's stopping you, Sasori, un?" Deidara murmured, rubbing against Sasori's crotch suggestively with his own. The redhead dug his fingers even harder onto the back of Deidara's hand in response. Sasori even let go of the couch, and now used this palm to tug against Deidara's vest. He wanted to wrangle Deidara, yank the top from his body. He settled for grunting at the blond's statement as his legs felt oddly jittery.
Through a clenching of the jaw, Sasori couldn't ignore his hardening erection.
Fucking…Damn it!
Truthfully, he didn't know whether he wanted to shake his neighbour off or fuck his brains out. As his arousal grew, Sasori ruefully acknowledged that he might choose the latter option
He mentally kicked himself for landing in this position.
Deidara was…. 'Deidara'; frankly. Neither now his enemy nor his friend, but something….odd that in-between zone. In a literal sense, Sasori was between his neighbour's legs and found it a massive turn-on.
He glowered down at the blond; in return, Deidara's expression was full of mirth as Sasori grabbed his shirt, the redhead exhibited his wanton frustration clearly.
Sasori thought back to how Deidara chastised him at the bar last weekend, when Deidara had said he was happier than Sasori was…maybe that was true. Maybe…He was too rigid. Sasori was silent, not responding to Deidara's question; his brain was too busy to speak.
A million things could go wrong from acting on this, the redhead rationalised.
But…what if he tried, just for once, not giving a shit?
As he justified this thought, his cock pulsed. There was no mistake. As soon as Deidara gripped him, he wanted this.
Deidara was propelled to take the initiative as he watched Sasori wrestle with indecision. His mouth hungry for this, yearning for the taste of the redhead, Deidara shifted upwards and met his lips against Sasori's. He kissed passionately, almost drinking the other up.
If Sasori had felt aroused before, he was awash with it now. The blond's lips crashed against his. It was fevered, messy. Their bodies were hot with the stifling air of the summer's evening. Sasori couldn't help himself; the tension of the last few days spilled over into reckless abandon.
He gave in and tasted Deidara. If it was just to be for pleasure, so be it.
.
They were rough, pushing against each other as their bodies became entwined.
Soon the two men were upstairs, feverishly yanking clothes from their bodies. Sasori took great amusement in sliding the shorts from Deidara's hips. He grabbed onto the blond's ass after it was exposed.
Deidara responded by sucking against his neck, his wet breath steamy against warmed skin. Sasori's murmurs were repressed, yet his back arched as the blond also began to stroke his cock.
As the sculptor began stroking him, the redhead's legs curled up and stretched out as he reacted to the blond's touches.
Damn, that felt good…it had been too long since Sasori had done this. Now he was no longer floored by indecision, Sasori relished taking control.
Sasori pulled the blond towards him, kissing him avidly whilst tugging on the back of Deidara's lengthy hair.
Their bodies writhed together; the puppeteer pushed the blond so he was leaning back, elbows holding his frame up. Sasori admired Deidara's dick as he began massaging it, at first with his hand only. Then, Deidara took a swift inhale of breath as the redhead bent over and took his cock in his mouth. With each suck and twist of Sasori's tongue on his dick, Deidara's pre-cum spilled out. He squirmed, his body aflame as Sasori's tongue sucked deeply, moving back upwards all up his shaft.
Deidara threw his head back. Fuck, that felt so good….Who knew, Sasori?!
The puppeteer felt gratified hearing the heavy rasps of Deidara's breath, knowing what his touch was doing to the blond. Sasori had no qualms about going further right now. His hand moved from gripping hard against Deidara's thighs squeezing one of his asscheeks.
He got a sudden strike of inspiration.
"Turn around," Sasori whispered into his ear.
Deidara merely raised one eyebrow, his face flushed. However, as he locked eyes with the older man, the blond decided to comply. He whipped around, and Sasori pressed a palm against his back, directing him to lie on his front across the bed. Sasori's dick throbbed.
He took in the sight before him. It was like Deidara was surrendering himself to what Sasori would give him.
Sasori leisurely gripped either side of the blond's ass-cheeks and spread them out.
The redhead pressed his fingers against this sensitive area, not quite going in, all the while spreading the sculptor's cheeks. The blond let out a lustrous exclamation, almost biting against the bedsheet.
"...You have lube, right?" Sasori's voice murmured from above. "And condoms?" He added. His tone was dipped lower than before. He finally felt calm.
"Yeah, of course-" The blond moved to get up, about to retrieve it from the bedside drawer.
As he shifted, Sasori's firm palm placed on his back quelled Deidara's movement.
"-Ah. You don't need to move…tell me where." Sasori said in a whisper. Truthfully, he was enjoying the feeling of Deidara underneath him like this and didn't want it to stop, even just for a moment. Sasori stayed straddling Deidara from behind as he got ready, slipping a condom on.
Deidara's eyes glimmered, anticipating the thrill to come. Soon enough, Sasori had got the lube. With his free hand, Sasori gripped onto Deidara's upper arm from behind as his fingers traced against Deidara's now wet asshole. His deft fingertips started, at first steady, slow. That first touch made Deidara stifle an exclamation, as he held the feeling. Deidara was still laying on his front, his arms holding onto the edge of the bed as he leant into the pleasure Sasori was giving him. Sasori had no appetite to hear Deidara screech in pain, yet a satisfied gasp from the blond as he later entered two fingers made Sasori's own middle squeeze in delight.
He continued, a wry smile creeping over Sasori's as Deidara's legs kicked out, embodying this passion.
Whilst Sasori was touching him like this, Deidara shifted, backing onto the redhead's cock that twitched nearby. It was almost, but not quite, rubbing against his asshole.
Sasori noticed this; in response, he slightly stretched his fingers, still within Deidara's ass. "T'ch, you want me bad, don't you?" The redhead made sure he was right up against the other artist, pressing his dick's tip right almost in Deidara's ass. He teased Deidara with this for just a moment, before moving back. Sasori's body was crackling with excitement too.
"You're so fucking annoying, un." The blond moaned, quivering with desire.
God-Dammit, Sasori… He was feeling so fucking horny. If this continued much longer, he would be damn near begging Sasori to rail him already. Trust Sasori, who was usually so impatient, to make Deidara feel feral before giving him what he wanted.
Sasori felt a squirm of satisfaction; he found that he loved seeing Deidara riled up with his teasing. He wanted to capture this; Sasori revelled in eliciting these responses, from the rasps in Deidara's groans to the way his body backed up and writhed against each movement. If Sasori could catch this feeling and bottle it up forever, he would in less than a heartbeat.
Sasori shifted his body so his chest was now hovering just above Deidara's back. He stroked more lube on the sleek texture of the condom wrapped around his own dick. Sasori spoke into the crook of the blond's neck, so that Deidara would feel the sensation as well as hear his voice.
"Well…" He paused, pressing the tip further in. "…Shall we get started?"
.