[LOG]
Who: Deidara & Sasori
Status: Closed
Style: Third person, present tense
Where: In the woods? Somewhere on the road.
When: Night, Week 5, Day 7
Rating: R/NC-17, here there be sex.
Warnings: Art! We expect there to be sex, but can't really know with these two.
Deidara withdraws his fingers from his hitomi with a gasp, his eyes wide as he stares at his trembling hand, a tongue wetting sweaty lips, unbidden. The mouth that grins back at him seems almost mocking.
Danna...
Somehow the realization that Sasori might feel so... vividly surprised him, though, he knows it shouldn't have been much of a secret. Sasori is just as passionate about his art as Deidara is, and there is sensuality in that passion, despite the coldness the puppeteer can express towards everything else.
And yet...
And yet surprise is what he feels, right?
And a shudder, thrill like nothing else. Art.
Sucking in a slow, deep breath, he leans back, realizing he is hard and painfully so. Exquisite, to understand the passion behind the motion, to enjoy the pleasure without feeling detached by unfamiliarity. Immaculate, Sasori has always had an unearthly aura about him, and even if Deidara knows him better than that, it is easy to be pulled by those strings. Pulled and pushed, stroked...
He shudders, again.
Well, this is definitely interesting development.
A patient man would have spent at least a few moments contemplating on all the subtle changes that a revelation such as Sasori's dream would bring forth in a life time partner, a mentor, perhaps the only friend Deidara has ever had. A patient man would have taken a moment to breathe and decipher all the details that gave him a pause, connect dots.
An active libido. Physical needs. A god damn dick. Sensory feeling - all issues Deidara had not really considered before, not necessarily disregarded as impossible, but not felt as if they would be likely to have much of an effect on Sasori.
And last but definitely not least, the passive role of him in the dream. It is easy to detect the bottom line of it, the dream itself, knowing better than to lay too much weight on the setting and rather concentrate on the details. But Deidara knows intimately that nothing is meaningless, every detail counts. A metaphor perhaps?
Deidara is not a patient man. He is too curious (and flustered) to wait around for his rational streak to catch up with his urgency to move.
He tosses a leg over the tree branch where he had been sitting, leaning on the trunk and passing time. Sasori had taken the first guard shift, overlooking their little makeshift campsite. Deidara is responsible for the rest. The last embers are still glowing crimson and gold in the fire pit, stars slowly scattering themselves across the sky. Usually he'd have been yawning and complaining loudly when Sasori had woken him up for his guard. Tonight, however, he was already wide awake by the time, feeling restless and hot under his collar. Neither of these dreams has really helped that issue...
He lands soundlessly on his feet, black cloak fluttering around his legs.
"Danna...?" he calls softly, chewing on his lip as he takes a slow step towards Sasori at the other side of the fire pit, and then another.
Status: Closed
Style: Third person, present tense
Where: In the woods? Somewhere on the road.
When: Night, Week 5, Day 7
Rating: R/NC-17, here there be sex.
Warnings: Art! We expect there to be sex, but can't really know with these two.
Deidara withdraws his fingers from his hitomi with a gasp, his eyes wide as he stares at his trembling hand, a tongue wetting sweaty lips, unbidden. The mouth that grins back at him seems almost mocking.
Danna...
Somehow the realization that Sasori might feel so... vividly surprised him, though, he knows it shouldn't have been much of a secret. Sasori is just as passionate about his art as Deidara is, and there is sensuality in that passion, despite the coldness the puppeteer can express towards everything else.
And yet...
And yet surprise is what he feels, right?
And a shudder, thrill like nothing else. Art.
Sucking in a slow, deep breath, he leans back, realizing he is hard and painfully so. Exquisite, to understand the passion behind the motion, to enjoy the pleasure without feeling detached by unfamiliarity. Immaculate, Sasori has always had an unearthly aura about him, and even if Deidara knows him better than that, it is easy to be pulled by those strings. Pulled and pushed, stroked...
He shudders, again.
Well, this is definitely interesting development.
A patient man would have spent at least a few moments contemplating on all the subtle changes that a revelation such as Sasori's dream would bring forth in a life time partner, a mentor, perhaps the only friend Deidara has ever had. A patient man would have taken a moment to breathe and decipher all the details that gave him a pause, connect dots.
An active libido. Physical needs. A god damn dick. Sensory feeling - all issues Deidara had not really considered before, not necessarily disregarded as impossible, but not felt as if they would be likely to have much of an effect on Sasori.
And last but definitely not least, the passive role of him in the dream. It is easy to detect the bottom line of it, the dream itself, knowing better than to lay too much weight on the setting and rather concentrate on the details. But Deidara knows intimately that nothing is meaningless, every detail counts. A metaphor perhaps?
Deidara is not a patient man. He is too curious (and flustered) to wait around for his rational streak to catch up with his urgency to move.
He tosses a leg over the tree branch where he had been sitting, leaning on the trunk and passing time. Sasori had taken the first guard shift, overlooking their little makeshift campsite. Deidara is responsible for the rest. The last embers are still glowing crimson and gold in the fire pit, stars slowly scattering themselves across the sky. Usually he'd have been yawning and complaining loudly when Sasori had woken him up for his guard. Tonight, however, he was already wide awake by the time, feeling restless and hot under his collar. Neither of these dreams has really helped that issue...
He lands soundlessly on his feet, black cloak fluttering around his legs.
"Danna...?" he calls softly, chewing on his lip as he takes a slow step towards Sasori at the other side of the fire pit, and then another.