Silk

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Sasori knew something was wrong the moment he closed the door to his home behind him, sensing something wrong with the way his home was arranged. His head tilted when he found his newest little doll lying on the floor, the wood of her face scarred by nails. Human nails. Sasori shifted and moved toward the doll, crouching to pick her up and stroke her face, studying the scored wood. He dodged left as something heavy nearly brained him. Sasori dodged more thrown objects, ducking behind a wall as a heavy body thudded onto the hardwood floor. The redhead peeked out from behind the wall and stared wide-eyed. Deidara snarled and moved toward him and Sasori barely had time to dodge away from the wall but he wasn’t fast enough. Deidara brought him down in a vicious tackle, the blonde pinning the redhead beneath him, hands curled into fists to pound the synthetic flesh of the marionette.

Sasori struggled beneath Deidara, trying to throw him off and succeeding, barely. He rolled over and struggled to his feet, turning to watch Deidara grab a scroll, jerk as though he’d gotten an electrical shock and throw the thing at him.

“I should tear you to PIECES, un!” Deidara screamed at him once the scroll hit the redhead’s chest and fell to the floor. Sasori could only tilt his head.

“I don’t think you really want to do that.”

“Oh, but I really do, un.”

Sasori shifted, watching Deidara stalked toward him, grabbing the redhead by the shoulders and bearing him down, capturing his mouth. The puppeteer gave a startled gasp at the action and found his mouth invaded by Deidara’s tongue. When the two pulled away from each other, Sasori was on the floor with Deidara straddling him, the two panting for air.

“Bastard,” Deidara hissed, leaning over Sasori, pinning his wrist to the floor, hips settling over Sasori’s own to begin a slow grind, moving in long, slow circles.

Sasori shivered, letting out a soft gasp as Deidara leaned down to bite at his neck. “No, I knew my parents…”

“Asshole, then, un.” Deidara said in between bites, “Monster. Fucking traitor.”

Sasori arched beneath the blonde, his body vibrating in pleasure, the sensations heightened when Deidara managed to slip his hands beneath his clothing, stroking his synthetic flesh. Sasori shivered when the cold air met with his heating skin, staring at the blond, his brown eyes darkened to the colour of dried blood.

“I am a monster…” Sasori managed to gasp out in between ravages to his mouth, “A traitor perhaps… but a dead one.”

Deidara hissed and tore at Sasori’s clothes and skin, baring the redhead to his eyes. “You should’ve stayed dead, un. Worthless piece of shit.”

“…Yes worthless…” Sasori arched up as Deidara’s nails raked his skin, tearing small gouges that would have to be healed later on. The blonde grabbed the redhead up then, forcing them both to stand, biting Sasori’s ear as they somehow navigated to the bedroom, falling onto the bed, Sasori on top this time, between Deidara’s legs, tugging at the blonde’s clothes, baring them both now. Deidara whimpered as Sasori settled between his legs, the redhead blinking up at the blonde in surprise.

“Don’t cry, Deidara.” Sasori whispered, stroking the blonde’s cheeks.

“And why shouldn’t I, un?” Deidara replied, shivering beneath Sasori, head tilting as the redhead placed soft kisses to his skin.

“Because… it doesn’t… look right… to mar your beauty… with tears…”

The blonde jerked his face to look at Sasori, eyes wet with unshed tears, those soon kissed away by Sasori as he shifted to slowly impale Deidara on his length, the blonde arching and letting the redhead slip deeper into his body. They spoke little during their lovemaking, Sasori moving slowly and drawing everything out, Deidara making soft noises as he was impaled again and again, both tensing one after another and Sasori released his seed into his lover, Deidara arching as his own essence made a mess on their abdomens. The redhead pulled out then, a cloth found and studied for a long moment before he moved to wipe away semen and blood from Deidara’s entrance, settling down beside him. It was then it was decided to create a doll of Deidara and have it get blown up. Somehow. Because Deidara knew Tobi was an idiot and probably would kill his own partner and they both knew to leave Akatsuki was to court death itself.
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Sei darted through the streets, his flight a panicked run, his makeshift mask wet with blood that wasn’t his own. No one stopped to help him. No one would help him. He ran for his life, knowing his murderer was right behind him. He had to get away. Sei made a wrong turn and tripped, falling headlong into the dirt. Then he could only scrabble, trying to regain his balance, struggling to get to his feet and only tripping more, managing at last to get to his feet only to hit a high wall, blocking his way. The boy turned to face the man who chased him, the boy cowering against the wall, shaking in fear. The man stood there, feet away from him, staring around as though he was blind to the fact the boy was right there in front of him. The only explanation Sei could come up with was that the man couldn’t see but he knew that wasn’t true. The man had beaten him enough times for the boy to know the man certainly wasn’t blind. The boy’s legs were cramping where he crouched, but he knew he couldn’t move. If he moved, he could be seen, and then he would be hurt worse than before. Than anytime before.

The boy shifted, just a bit, not too much, and then a heavy hand fell on his face, knocking him to the ground. The man stood over him, a hand curled around the hilt of a wicked looking knife. Sei felt tears prick at his eyes, trying to scrabble to a safe place, to just get away. He heard voices but he couldn’t scream, his voice unable to work, the lump in his throat too much. He could only crawl on his hands and knees and even then he didn’t get far. A foot fell on his ankle, pinning him down to the dirt, making him vulnerable. Sei was crying hard now, the black material over his face choking him, depriving him of air, suffocating. He didn’t want to die!

The man grabbed him then, fingers curling around the makeshift mask and hauling the boy up to stare into the child’s frightened emerald eyes. Tears fell and soaked the cloth, the man speaking harsh words the boy couldn’t understand. Sei could only struggle, struggle against the grip of the man, giving a gasp when the little button Sasuke-san had given him fell out of his kimono to plop unceremoniously into the dirt.

Sasuke-san!

Sei’s mind was working a mile a minute now, managing to get a hand up to pull the black material down. The next few acts were out of sheer desperation, Sei biting down hard on the man’s knuckles at the same time he kicked up at the man’s chest with both legs, pistoning them out, coupling with the man’s reaction to release him to get him further away from the knife that suddenly slashed where his head used to be. Sei landed hard on the ground, absorbing most of the shock with his feet, though he still fell hard onto his back. He rolled, scrabbling for that button, grabbing it up and squeezing the button hard.

Seiichiro wasn’t quite sure what the hell happened next.

One minute he’d been kicked over onto his back, the man’s shadow falling over him, the blade flashing overhead in the light, and then he was being hauled up and away from that descending knife, the silver blade blocked by a black one, the sound of metal striking metal echoing in his ears. His back was pressed against a heavy-feeling cloth, reinforced to make it hard cloth, an arm around his chest. The nine year old stared up into the darkened visage of Sasuke, the man twisting to protect Sei and block the knife. The man drew back the silver, Sasuke drew back the black, and Sei watched the blades dart at one another again and again. Sasuke, however, proved the faster, the kunai plunging home in the man’s chest. Sei flinched as the blood sprayed over Sasuke, the boy shielded by Sasuke’s shoulder though the crimson still splashed on the brunette’s cheek. Sei watched the man who abused him fall dead, Sasuke setting him down to retrieve the kunai and wipe blood from his weapon, finally turning to the boy.

Sei shivered as he looked up at Sasuke, knowing when he stared at the older man he wasn’t staring at the kind man who helped him a few nights ago; he was staring at a professional killer, a ninja in his full glory. Sei saw the shift from the killer to the friend even though Sasuke’s crimson eyes never changed, the look of his face softening. Sasuke crouched in front of Sei and smiled, holding out the kunai hilt first to the boy.

Sei blinked and slowly reached forward, fingers wrapping around the hilt of the weapon and lifted the heavy thing into the air. His fingers felt cold, the metal slowly warming as his eyes followed Sasuke’s movements. The shinobi placed his hand on Sei’s head, smiling warmly at him, gently.

“Want to go home, Sei-kun?” Sasuke whispered.

Sei’s fist tightened around the hilt of the kunai. “I want to go home, Sasuke-sensei.”