Explosions of Emotion

Deidara sat alone in his room, having made it look a little more homey with a few of his own creations. Of course all he had was his chakra infused, and explosive, clay, but he could be selective about what was blown up when he set off his bombs, so it didn’t matter.

On his dresser sat a large clay bird that took him a vast majority of that day to complete.



Deidara sighed as the small mouths on his hands softened up the clay for his next creation, which he was working on without paying much attention. When Itachi had told him that he knew of a way that Deidara could frequently use his skills, and get better pay than before, he had expected it would involved a little bit more than sitting around. But, like Sasori said, the Jinchuuriki weren’t all ready, whatever that meant.



Deidara looked down at his newest creation and saw that it resembled human form, and actually looked somewhat like his new partner. He frowned and began to squish it, but stopped himself. Instead, Deidara shook his head and set the incomplete figure behind the bird on his dresser and decided to go see what Sasori was up to. It had been hours since breakfast when Sasori-danna had told him to leave him alone, so Sasori must have been done by then.



Quietly, Deidara walked down the hallway to Sasori’s room and knocked on the door.



“Sasori-danna?” Deidara pressed his ear against the door, and heard nothing. He frowned and knocked again, still receiving no answer. “Hmph,” he crossed his arms, debated for a minute, and then just opened the door and walked in.



What Deidara saw that moment was very different from what he’d seen in Sasori’s room the day before. An unidentifiable body part lay on Sasori’s work desk next to his puppet, blood seeping from the amount of flesh as Sasori used the muscle tissue in some weird way to complete his creation. But the source of the once mysterious bloodstains wasn’t what had shocked Deidara so much.



It was Sasori himself. Instead of wearing his Akatsuki cloak, he was shirtless, and wearing a pair of black pants. His chest, however, wasn’t normal human flesh. It couldn’t be. At the joints, Deidara could actually see the ball and socket where the forearm connected with the rest of the arm. The lines where Sasori’s hand connected to his wrist was visible, as if he could take his own hand off, and the rest of his body just looked too unnatural for words to describe, although it was still human shaped.



Sasori’s back then became rigid and he turned to look at Deidara, his eyes full of shock and disdain.



“What did I tell you about coming in here?” Sasori snarled in a low whisper.



Deidara backed up. “I-it’s pretty late in the afternoon, Sasori-danna. I-I thought you might have wanted dinner.”



With ninja-like speed Sasori pinned Deidara to the closest wall, his hands tight on Deidara’s shoulders.



“What?” Sasori hissed. “My puppet body disgusts you, too? You seemed pretty fond of my other puppet, though. I wonder what happened to change your mind.”



Deidara simply looked down at Sasori in total shock. He’d just been handled like a small child by someone who was at least a whole head shorter to him, and he was totally terrified.



“No, it’s not that!” Insisted Deidara with a shake of his head.



Sasori’s anger grew and the blades that could retract into his back flipped out in irritation.



“Lies,” he hissed again. “I can see how terrified and disgusted you are in your eyes, you brat! I’ve lived nearly twice as long as you, I’m not stupid.”



“You just startled me, that’s all, Sasori-danna!” insisted Deidara. “I’m actually quite curious about your...body.” Deidara flushed as he said the word.



Sasori didn’t sigh, like a normal person was, but the blades retracted and he loosened his grip on Deidara a little, and then let go of him all together.



“I don’t have time to show brats the results my jutsu,” Sasori said cooly as he turned away to look at his work. “It takes too long to explain, so you wouldn’t be interested.”



Deidara shook his head. “Actually, I’m curious.”



“Well too bad,” Sasori looked back at Deidara, a playful smirk, the most emotion he’d shown since he’d met Deidara, plain on his face. “I don’t like to share. I never learned that lesson as a child.”



Deidara boldly reached out and touched Sasori’s shoulder.



“Can you feel anything, Sasori-danna?” he asked as his fingers took in the feel of the fake shoulder. It didn’t feel like skin, but it didn’t feel like wood or any other fake material. Somehow it was living, but at the same time, not alive at all.



“You think I wouldn’t keep my own nervous system?” Sasori asked with an offended tone. “Of course I can feel.” He looked away towards his puppet. “Just not as much as you, or anyone else for that matter, can.”



“Oh,” Deidara continued to explore Sasori’s artificial shoulders, his face turning pinker the closer he got to Sasori’s chest.



“You know,” said Sasori, almost slyly. “You haven’t said ‘un’ once since you’ve been in here.”



Deidara looked up, his fingers hardly an inch away from Sasori’s nipple, which he wasn’t sure what it felt like, and part of him was eager to find out.



“Oh, um,” Deidara pulled his hand away, but Sasori grabbed his wrist and put Deidara’s hand squarely in the middle of his chest, ignoring Deidara’s stammers. “I-I don’t say it when I’m nervous.” He paused. “Un.”



“Heh, that’s better,” Sasori let go of Deidara’s wrist. “Forgive me for being so straight forward. No one has really shown such interest.” He watched Deidara’s fingers almost intensely.



“Your body is quite interesting, Sasori-danna, un,” Deidara grinned.



Sasori shook his head, thin strands of rich auburn hair falling over his rich reddish-brown eyes. “You must be easily amused then.”



“Un,” mumbled Deidara before Sasori stepped back.



“I need to finish what I’m working on,” said Sasori firmly, with a nod of his head towards the bloody flesh on his desk. “It needs to be done quickly, or else the smell gets a little unbearable.”



“Oh, right.” Deidara left Sasori to his work, waiting to hang his head until Sasori had closed the door behind him

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That was way too weird, Deidara thought as he paced around his own room. Nothing I said didn’t sound provocative. Not like I wasn’t curious about his body, just not like that.



Deidara looked down at the bulge in his pants and with a growl threw on his Akatsuki cloak and collapsed onto his bed. Nothing was there, nope, he thought as he grabbed a handful of clay and began molding it again, trying, but failing dismally, to get Sasori out of his head.

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Meanwhile, Sasori was disposing of the parts he didn’t need for his puppet, which wasn’t much, trying to ignore the own nervous sensations in his own stomach, which wasn’t big enough to create the amount of nerves he felt. Maybe it was all mental?



Sasori looked down at his chest, remembering the places that Deidara had touched him. He’d lied about being able to feel. True, he could feel some, but the stimulation had to be a large amount. Sticking himself with a pin wouldn’t result much feeling, but getting stabbed would be noticeable. Just not as much as if he were normal.



Burying his head in his hands, he tried to shake all the different thoughts out of his head. Thoughts of how it would feel to have Deidara touch him other places, thoughts about what things could be like if he were total flesh and blood, instead of half-puppet, and thoughts about why he was even feeling anything for his new partner at all.



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Author's note: Okkies, so I wasn't going to update until I'd gotten reviews, BUT I figured I might as well. Please remember to review! I'm dying to know what everyone thinks of my story! Lol