Doing the Laundry

A short little log done by Apple and I way back just after the opening of our RP, Cafe Akatsuki. Just some pointless fun and mind-fuckery. Enjoy.

Doing the Laundry

Deidara hated doing laundry. Not only because it meant he had to walk down to the bottom floor of the apartment carrying a basket full of dirty clothes. No, it was mostly because he had to wait for it to finish. Deidara was never good at waiting. And the laundry room wasn't very entertaining.

But that's where he was, sprawled out over the laundry machine as it hummed and rocked, his clothes sloshing around inside. It was too early for him to be standing up straight. His hair was in a messy ponytail and his loose fitting pants were rumpled. It was obvious that he'd just gotten out of bed.

Deidara smacked the laundry machine impatiently.

"Hurry up, un! Stupid, old machine..."

Sasori himself did not care for doing laundry, but he was patient enough for it. It was only that he'd grown up in a rich household with plenty of servants around- not that he couldn't take care of himself. Most of them were such pathetic, dull, uninteresting things... unlike the people he'd come to know at the cafe. And as he rounded the corner with his clothes into the room, a small smirk crossed his face- an almost cruel twist to his lips. Ah, they were so fascinating- especially this... Deidara.

He allowed their eyes to meet for the briefest moment- but it was the nature of Sasori's gaze to send shivers down a spine- and that was all he did. He did not greet him, did not say anything, only walked to an unused laundry machine and loaded his clothes into it. Deidara looked like a mess, as if he'd just crawled out of bed- Sasori on the other hand was looking, well, as Sasori always did. Deceitfully young and sweet- and oh, anyone who knew him knew he was anything but.

Deidara jumped slightly when Sasori came in, pushing himself up off of the laundry machine. When their eyes met, he could barely tear his gaze away. He watched as the red head loaded the laundry machines and realized that he was staring.

“Hey.” He finally blurted out, immediately noticing how stupid he sounded. But whatever. Sasori was here now and that meant a distraction. Deidara grinned, still leaning on the laundry machine, his face propped up on his elbow. He eyed Sasori’s immaculate image. “How can you be so awake already? It’s early.”

Sasori left the silence hanging in the air for a fair amount of time, not because he had no answer, only because he knew of Deidara's impatience- and at times it could be so very entertaining. The smirk still toyed about his lips, though he made it a point of not looking his way- Sasori could practically feel Deidara staring at the back of his neck. This boy was indeed... most intriguing.

"It's a normal hour," he said simply. It was amazing how his voice, even with the most mundane of words, always felt like they held some kind of a veiled threat, a quiet warning of the calm before the storm. Finished with loading the machine, he paused for a moment to check the settings before starting it. "Why are you awake so early?"

Deidara waited impatiently for Sasori to answer, his grin gradually turning into a pout (though he would refuse to call it that). It felt like years before the red head answered.

“It’s not a normal hour, un. It’s eight o’clock AM! Way too early to be doing laundry.” He complained, slumping once more over the white machine. “I would have slept until lunch at least, but that stupid biker down the hall got up at, like, seven o’clock and started banging on my door, un! And when I answered it he just said,” Deidara’s voice dropped into a bad impression of the larger man. “’Good morning, blondie. Have a nice day.’ And left! And after that I couldn’t get back to sleep!” He growled, tempted to hit the laundry machine again. “Damn him to hell, yeah. I’ll get him soon.”

Sasori didn't listen to most of that rant. Listening to Deidara was hardly a good choice if one was interested in keeping their ear drums and their sanity. What he did gather was that apparently eight AM was an obscene time of morning to be awake, and that the bikers had once more harassed his pet.

Sasori made a mental note to himself. He must teach them a lesson.

He could still feel Deidara staring at him, and the smirk remained. Just how far did this boy think he could push his limits? Really now. Even after the machine was done he leaned comfortably against it, still not turning to face the blonde, and again leaving a significant silence before replying. "I usually come here around now." It was usually so nice and quiet and unbothered by the likes of people. Quiet. Well, it was anything but quiet now.

Deidara pushed himself from his laundry machine to shuffle closer to Sasori, peering at the other’s impassive face. He really hated it when the red head made him wait like that. It made him bored. And fidgety. Which was an annoying combination.

The blond dared to give Sasori a light poke in his side.

“Why do you always take so long to answer, un?” he grumbled. “Like some old man who can’t think straight…”

The blonde moved closer, Sasori could hear it, feel it, and his smirk only widened ever so slightly- but did the brat just poke him? Yes. Yes, that he did. He'd let it slide. Just this once. Deidara was an idiot, after all, and idiots were to be pitied for their misgivings.

As amusing as it already was... why not take it a step further? Sasori allowed his eyes to meet with the blonde's- allowed them to stay there, cold and piercing- and did the brat just call him old? Deidara really didn't know where to stop. After some amount of time- shorter than his previous silences, but probably felt longer with the tension of eye contact- he spoke again. "You look like you rolled out of bed."

Deidara felt a pleasant shiver race down his spine as his and Sasori’s eyes met. He swallowed thickly and realized how dry his mouth had become. He had to tell himself to stop being such a freakin’ fan girl, yeah. Because it would be so not cool if he started drooling. But his mental berating did nothing to slow his heart, which had started to pound.

Wait, Sasori just said something, didn’t he?

Deidara blinked and licked his lips slowly, trying to remember.

“I did… just roll out of bed, un.” He finally said. “I mean, it was really early and I had nothing better to do so I just came down here to do laundry, yeah, because it’s been a while since I could see my floor.” He was rambling and he knew it. Now, if only he could remember how to stop. “So I just…came down here… Un.”

Heh. This wasn't difficult at all- he could see it in the boy's eyes, in his stance, in the shallowness of his breath. Sasori had a profound effect on this blonde brat- to the point of which simple eye contact was enough to produce most entertaining results. Nervousness. Staring. An inability to look away- and did Deidara just lick his lips? Why yes, he did. This could be most interesting indeed... Deidara had always been his favourite pet.

It was amazing how even though he was clearly nervous he still managed to talk so damn much. He waited again- and while his facial expression had been blank and impassive when he turned to face Deidara, he allowed a small smirk to cross his face- only the bare hints of a cruel twist to the corners of his lips. Just what other buttons were there to push? Ah- so many options. "Your hair looks horrible," he said quietly- barely louder than a whisper. "And it's normally so pretty." he reached out- played with a strand.

Deidara couldn’t suppress the gasp in time. It was dragged from his lips as Sasori’s hand touched his hair. He mentally cursed as heat flushed his cheeks. Damn it. Sasori just had to go for his hair, didn’t he?

The blond was at a loss. What should he do? Pull away and save himself from further embarrassment? Or stay? It wasn’t often that Sasori touched anyone. Even if it was just the hair.

“I… Uhm…” Deidara stuttered, causing his blush to deepen. “I didn’t… Get a chance to comb it, yeah…”

Sasori smirked, and this time it was rather visible.

Deidara had blushed- bright red, really, and even when Sasori thought that was already quite an achievement it only deepened even more- and that gasp. Surprise, maybe- and he could hardly blame Deidara. He was not known to touch people, even if it was just hair- but somehow it seemed worth it. But more likely, Sasori thought, was that he had found a button to push that Deidara liked.

He continued fiddling with the strand of hair he held beneath his fingers- brushed his hand through Deidara's hair. It was silken, soft- well cared for, evidently. And apparently, it was something that greatly affected the boy- and this interested him. Some people would say he was being gentle- but Sasori knew that the feather-lightness of his touch only served to drive Deidara wild. "Hn," he whispers, combing his hand through Deidara's messy hair, tugging on it ever so slightly. "You really were jealous... weren't you?"

A moan escaped Deidara’s lips when Sasori tugged on his hair before he could stop it, his eyes nearly rolling at the sharp pain. He bit his lip to try to keep quiet, his blood rushing south. It was amazing that he still had enough to keep his face flushed. He found himself leaning heavier on the laundry machine and closer to Sasori. His breathing was shallow, his eyes half-lidded.

“J-jealous?” he gasped, trying to focus on the red head’s words. It was hard with Sasori’s fingers in his hair.

Easy. Almost too easy. He leaned in slightly, whispering his words directly into Deidara's ear. "You don't like that you're not my only pet... do you?" Sickenly soft and laced in a sound that could only described as a cruel mockery of sweetness. His own breathing was steady, his pulse perfectly normal- there was hardly any change in him. But Deidara- oh, he was so flustered already. Such an amusing, amusing boy.

He grabbed a fistful of hair- and pulled. Tight. "Answer me," he hissed- sharp, commanding, his eyes flashing.

Deidara’s eyes threatened to fall shut, but Sasori’s piercing gaze prevented him from doing so. A groan, louder this time, was nearly drowned out by the washing machines.

“Shit.” He cursed, trying to get his thoughts coherent enough to respond.

He panted, barely standing on his own, though his legs wobbled and threatened to give out at Sasori’s sharp tone. God but he loved it. He loved every second of it.

“Yes,” he hissed. He didn’t know whether it was in answer to the red head’s question or to the spike of pleasure that shot through him as Sasori pulled his hair. “Danna…”

"Yes what?" Sasori hissed, threatening, demanding- anything but gentle now, changed in such a flash. Deidara was so... subservient, so submissive, and it was a most intriguing thing- he saw Deidara's eyes nearly flicker shut. "Don't you fucking dare close your eyes." It was not a threat. It was an order. A command. Sasori's free hand forced Deidara's chin upward, probably painfully.
And the other hand- Deidara's hair. Still pulling, still tight, using his elbow to keep Deidara's body as far from where he was pulling as possible. "Yes what, pet?" He whispered- disturbingly delicately next to the fierce pull of his hand. "What do you want?"

Deidara forced his eyes to stay open, no matter how heavy the pleasure/pain made them. His head titled upward with Sasori’s hand on his chin and all he could see was the red head’s devilish eyes and dark smirk. His teeth sunk deeper into his lip, drawing a trickle of blood that made them look even redder. His heart pounded in his ears and it took him a couple of moments to respond. Even then his voice was still breathless.

“I want…” God, it was so hard to keep his eyes open when they were trying to roll back in his head. So hard to focus with that sinfully tight grip in his hair. “Danna.” He moaned, as if it would answer the question for him.

Because he knew what he wanted. Knew it from the first day he had met Sasori. Knew that the red head probably knew it too. And he wanted it so fucking bad.

One of his hands, the one not supporting him on the laundry machine, reached up to fist in Sasori’s shirt as his knees nearly buckled….

“Sasori…” he breathed, in a haze, drugged on the pain of the grip in his hair and hold on his chin, hypnotized by that sickenly sweet voice. “I want you… God, Danna…. Please.”

It wasn't as if he didn't know what Deidara wanted- the way he spoke, the way he acted, the way he never objected to being owned, despite being the most stubborn of his pets. Sasori loved to hear him scream, loved to hear him beg, loved the feeling of absolute control, loved how desperate Deidara was from- what Sasori considered- nothing more than a simple tease. He allowed his fingers to dig into the skin in Deidara's chin- his lips were curled into a wicked, self-satisfied smirk. He pulled even harder on Deidara's long blonde hair, twisting it- allowed Deidara's hand to fist at his shirt. Sasori could tell Deidara wanted it, craved it, needed it so badly- and that was exactly why he wasn't giving it to him. Not by a long shot.

He tilted his head just a little- angled himself and leaned in, never breaking that relentless, possessive glare, loving the wildly desperate look in Deidara's eyes. He pulled even tighten on Deidara's hair, twisting some of it around his hand- and his arms were more than strong enough to keep him still as he leaned in and so delicately licked at the blood that trickled from Deidara's lips.

"Do you really?" he leaned to the side, so that Deidara can feel his breath against his ear. "How badly?"

Deidara cried out as the pain in his scalp intensified, his eyes merely slivers, glazed over with pleasure. He was beyond coherence and pride, didn’t care what he had to say or do or beg as long as he got it. His hand tightened on Sasori’s shirt and he whimpered as Sasori’s tongue swept across his lips.

“Yes.” He groaned, trying to lean closer, but the red head’s grip held him in place. “So bad, so bad. Danna.” Impatient. He didn’t even notice that he was babbling, barely making sense. He ached to be able to touch Sasori, to relieve some of the want-desire-lust, but Sasori was strong and Deidara couldn’t move if he wanted to, was caught in the suspense and yearning and need and he loved it, wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sasori smirked. Deidara was so wild with need and want that he could barely make sense- and Sasori still held on calmly, if anything experiencing a sadistic glee in the look of pain and pleasure that adorned his little pet's face. He could feel his pet straining against his arms and his grip, trying to press their bodies closer together- he could feel, almost taste it in the very air, as heavy as it was with sinful desires. He tugged on Deidara's hair again, forces his chin up in a sudden upward tug, allowing his wet tongue to brush almost lingeringly across Deidara's lips- before he stopped.

It wasn't that Sasori didn't want it- the sight of Deidara begging and pleading please-now-danna was enough to stir something in him, as much as he didn't let it show beyond the cold turn to his moist lips. All of a sudden he just let go, removed his arms and stepped away- he knew just what this would do to the boy, and that was just half the fun. He only smirked, keeping their eye contact, before turning away without a single word.

Sasori noted that even his own laundry is done by now- and Deidara's of course should be. How time flew, when you were having wonderful, sinful fun.

Deidara blinked. He had been nearly delirious with the pain and pleasure and suspense and then, suddenly, it was gone. It took the blond a few moments to get back his bearings. Sasori wasn’t even looking at him anymore, let alone touching him. The blond stood there for a few moments, still leaning on the washing machine, before it sunk in.

‘WHAT?!’ He mentally cried. All that suspense and tension and that was it? Sasori just turned away? Deidara could hardly believe it. He stood there, doing a very good impression of a fish, staring at the red head with shock.

Deidara wasflushed. He was hot. He was aching for some sort of real contact. And Sasori just….. Went back to his laundry. Deidara was horrified. Speechless. He had been so close.

Sasori gathered his laundry, the smirk never quite leaving his face. The blonde would learn- no matter how much he begged and pleaded and cried, in the end the only real factor that decided whether Deidara's desire would be met or not was whether or not Sasori damned well wanted to or not. And at the moment he was quite happy to leave Deidara shivering in desperate, unsated desire- Sasori, of course, was sure that this wouldn't be the last time anything like this happened, not after his pet turned out to be so wonderfully needy and so willing to submit to his control. Deidara, of course, didn't know that- and this only pleased him more.

He brushed a hand absent-mindedly through his soft red hair- he'd not even broken a sweat from any of that. He gave Deidara ample time to gape and stare, as he was sure that blonde was doing, and when he was quite sure he had retrieved all of his laundry looked around at him pointedly- the smirk was already gone from his face. "Yours is done too, you know."

Deidara watched, transfixed, as Sasori’s hand brushed through his red hair. Deidara absently wondered if it was as soft as it looked. He mentally shook himself as Sasori spoke.

It took another couple of seconds for Deidara to respond. He turned to look at his own washing machine. Sure enough, it had been done for a while.

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks, un.” He muttered awkwardly, stepping back to go retrieve his clothes. His mind was still a mess after what had just happened and he knew that later, once he was far from Sasori’s intoxicating presence, he would be angry at this missed chance.

Sasori made his way to the door with his laundry basket- but stopped, put it down, turned around. Without much warning he strode calmly towards Deidara, made to grab at his chin with his right hand- his left ready to hold off anything that might come his way. "Now lets get this straight, pet," he whispers- his voice dripping with sickenly sweet cold. "I don't care how much you beg and scream and cry- if I don't want it, you don't get it, and if I do…”

He waited for a response, his lips curling into a slight smirk again before continuing. "Come to me," he said, voice barely audible, an almost seductive yet commanding undertone to it. "Come to me only when you need this." He waited for a reply before releasing his vice-like grip and walking back towards the door. He picked up the basket and left, without another word.

Deidara jolted slightly as Sasori came to him again, but stayed frozen as the red head’s hand came to his chin again. His face flushed at Sasori’s words and the mental images they brought. He only had time to whisper Yes before Sasori was gone.

Deidara slumped against his washing machine and brushed his bangs from his face. His hand fell and lingered on his lips, blood now smeared across them. A chuckle escaped him, breathy and quiet. He should really thank that damned biker for getting him up so early. Just look where it had lead. He thought of Sasori’s hands in his hair, twisting and pulling, and his lips rose into a smile.

End