Truth Hurts

Nothing was the same. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Deidara assumed when Sasori died, it would be just like Orochimaru leaving. He would get a new partner and go on with his mission. Sasori would fade from his memories and be forgotten like winter is when spring arrives.


Not this time. Unlike Orochimaru, Deidara had a relationship with Sasori, even if neither would admit to it. The puppeteer was engraved into his very existence and he could still hear the sassy and cocksure laugh of the redhead as loudly as if he were still there. The little man invaded his dreams with those wide roan red eyes, and turned most coherent thought into a jumpled mess. His body may have become a puppet, but his soul was uniquely human, twisted memories and all. In fact, Sasori held an innocence Deidara could't comprehend. Like a puzzle with the middle piece missing. He was a trained killer. A criminal of the highest degree, but those eyes were still innocent, as if he were still trying to find his way on the bloodstained path they had all chosen.


Deidara could remember well the living perfume that surrounded Sasori, as no one could ever have that same unique scent. When he snuggled close, on those nights when their missions required them to camp out, the soft hint of cedar and sandalwood, filled his senses and lulled him to sleep. Sasori was very dangerous like all Akatsuki members. There were nights when Deidara found himself pinned to the ground by the little, but incredibly strong man. Those nights he usually spent under that rigid body crying out, half in pleasure, half in delicious torture. On those nights he was shown no mercy and the end found himself bleeding, but oh so satisfied. There were other nights when the sex would be sweet and drawn out, with both of them intent on pleasuring each other. There would be endless hours of exploring and playing, and at the end the sweet release and a blissful night's sleep the reward. They craved each other almost constantly and there were even nights when Deidara would find himself attached to those chakra strings, his body, effectively turned into a doll to serve his 'master'. Deidara loved this best of all. Feeling Sasori tug the strings and contol every movement made Deidara giddy. He felt like such a whore, tied to whatever was nearby, naked and begging for Sasori to take him. He reveled in the feeling of being helpless to do anything as Sasori thrust into him. He liked feeling dirty sometimes, it made things fun. But above all, he loved watching Sasori sleep when it was all over, blissfully sprawled naked across Deidara. He loved running his fingers along the puppet's joints, feeling the smooth, weathered surface. He liked the happy sigh that came from Sasori's mouth when in his so-called true form. The way his body seemed to fit so nicely with his own. He actually wondered sometimes, if Sasori wasn't made just for him. Deidara had convinced himself it was just hormones and that he felt nothing for the over confident Sasori, but somewhere inside, he knew he was lying.


Tossing and turning within the tangled sheets, he knew there was no use in trying to ignore things anymore. Opening one periwinkle coloured eye Deidara raised a hand to his cheek, disturbing the tiny rivulets of salty tears that trickled down his face. Tears. Tears that he knew would eventually dry up and dissapear on the outside, but would run forever on the inside. Sasori had changed his life and left an imprint on his soul. As sad as he was though, Deidara was thankful. If it weren't for Sasori, he would still be empty inside, and the pain of losing him was much more bearable than the pain of never knowing him. Rising to his feet he made his way to the open window, letting the gentle breeze evaporate his tears and ruffle his hair.

"Sasori-danna..."

The moon shone bright, A firey yellow-orange as it began its ascent into the night sky. Leaning on the window sill Deidara smiled, if sadly. His voice, a bare whisper.

"Don't forget to rip my heart out...because I don't need it any more."