Work Text:
“Idiot,” Sasori hissed as he walked over to where Deidara was knelt on the ground. Dizzily, Deidara plucked one of the poison needles from his forearm. “The hell were you thinking? You know I can’t see you after rapid-fire explosions. Why would you move into the smoke?”
Deidara tried to pluck the needle that pierced his thigh, but his fingers felt slippery. Sasori pulled it out easily and then moved onto the one in his shoulder.
It was a foggy morning in the northern mountains. Their attackers were clever to try to catch them off-guard at dawn when visibility was so low, especially since they’re both long-distance fighters, but thankfully their attackers weren’t especially skilled shinobi. They were undisciplined bounty hunters, likely aiming to return Deidara’s dead body to his old home further north. Perhaps they haven’t heard the southern legends of Sasori of the Red Sand and anticipated an easy fight.
“Their archer had eyes on me,” Deidara replied, “I had to break his line of sight.”
“Well, you broke mine too. Congratulations.”
“Hey, Sasori,” Deidara said, his voice swaying drunkenly, “which poison is this?”
“A Strychnine variant.” Sasori grabbed ahold of Deidara’s elbow to stabilize him while he searched for more needles. There weren’t any.
“Yeah? I like this one.”
“Do you.” Sasori’s voice was flat.
Deidara lowered himself to the ground with a thunk, settling into a sitting position. It was a lot easier than kneeling, and he sighed with the relief. Sasori’s hands hovered over him worryingly as he moved. “Yeah,” he said, “It takes people down pretty quick. Makes it easy to land a bomb.”
In his fading vision, Sasori looked beautiful. His eyes seemed brighter somehow, his presence more encompassing, and his hair a bit softer. Maybe it was the humidity.
“Noted.” Sasori started taking off Deidara’s cloak, his hands moving swiftly.
“You’re not even listening to me--”
He didn’t remember how he was suddenly laying on the ground, or how Sasori was hovering above him.
“--dara. Deidara. Make your stupid fucking bird.” Sasori had a grip on Deidara’s right wrist and was pressing Deidara’s palm against his clay pouch. Deidara tried to curl his fingers around the zipper, but found he could do little more than twitch his hand. Even the smallest movement was painful.
Impatiently, Sasori opened the pouch for him and grabbed a handful of clay, massaged it briefly between wooden fingers, and forced it into the mouth on Deidara’s palm. “Chew,” he commanded, and Deidara tried to force his way through the pain. “Your smaller model will suffice.”
“We’re going somewhere?”
“The compound.”
“We were just there, my man.”
“Great, then you know the way.”
“Mm,” Deidara’s eyes were locked on Sasori’s face. His silhouette seemed to glisten with green and pink, and he just looked so unreal. Gathering all of his focus, Deidara used his open hand to grip Sasori’s collar and pull, crashing their lips together. Sasori made a soft noise of surprise, which was among the most satisfying things Deidara had ever heard. Sasori gave a quick, confident, and firm kiss in response before breaking it off. It felt like reassurance, like the closest thing to “it’s gonna be okay” as Sasori would ever say.
“Make. The. Bird.” Sasori commanded again.
“You’re so fucking pretty.”
“Deidara.”
With that, the bird came into existence before them. It was the smaller model that Deidara usually used when traveling alone, but it was also the easiest to make, and Sasori did say that it would be enough. The puppeteer hoisted Deidara into a sitting position and then slid behind him, grunting a little with the effort of maintaining Deidara’s weight, and hooked his elbows under Deidara’s armpits. Sasori began to half-drag him over to the bird.
Deidara remembered lifting Sasori in the past. He’s carried him to safety, to beds, and sometimes just for fun. Sasori was small and easy to cradle in his arms. The thought made him smile.
“You’re the stupidest brat I’ve ever met,” Sasori said, his voice low and a little strained from Deidara’s weight, “I’d rather see you pierced by an arrow than have three doses of Strychnine in your blood. You’re going to kill yourself someday.”
“Nah,” Deidara mewled, “I trust you. Arrows don’t have antidotes.”
“Arrows also don’t have time limits. We have approximately 85 minutes to get back to the compound.”
“That’s specific.”
Sasori struggled a bit more as they made their way up the bird’s wing. The incline made his grip harder to maintain. “Yes. Strychnine induces Tetanus-like attacks where you’ll experience muscle spasms and cyanosis: bluing of the external limbs. I suspect you’ll survive ten of these attacks, and you’ve already gone through one of them when you fainted earlier. The attacks typically come in 10 to 15 minute intervals, but the intervals can shorten as the poison progresses through your system.” With one more heave, they were both atop the bird. Sasori sat down such that Deidara’s back was leaning against his chest, “Some time has passed already, so I can approximate 85 minutes. Let’s get moving.”
Deidara let himself sink into Sasori and could hear a few of Sasori’s joints lock in order to support his body weight. The glimmering outline that made everything so beautiful earlier was starting to get a bit overwhelming and bright. He closed his eyes.
“Deidara. Move it.”
“Hm.” With a pump of chakra, the bird took off.
Resting against Sasori, Deidara kept his eyes closed to protect against the brightness of the sky. He could feel his wrists and legs tightening and growing heavy until he could no longer move them, and his fingers and feet were growing cold. With a huff, he turned his face into Sasori.
“I should take control of the bird. You’ll be having another attack soon.”
“Yeah,” Deidara replied and allowed Sasori’s strings to take over the movement. They’ve done this a few times before; so long as Deidara loosens his hold on the clay, Sasori can take over with his chakra strings and control it with the same precision he’d use to control a puppet. As though on cue, Deidara started to feel a tightening pain in his stomach that spread quickly from his abs to his obliques and chest. Deidara managed a grunt of distress before he felt his throat close up.
“Breathe through it,” Sasori said calmly, “and don’t panic. It’s temporary. It will last three to four minutes.”
Deidara twisted his fingers into Sasori’s cloak, and his vision started to fade.
“You’re not breathing.” Sasori observed, “It may be painful, but you need to breathe. Relax your chest.”
“Nnh-- Fuck--” was all Deidara could say. His breath came in shallow, hissing bursts, and each breath seemed to recover his sight. As he choked his way through each inhale and exhale, Sasori placed two fingers on Deidara’s neck and called a bit of chakra to the digits to help him feel Deidara’s pulse. He must’ve noticed its rabbit-fast pace.
“Hey, relax,” Sasori whispered, leaning in a little bit so his lips were close to Deidara’s ear, “I told you this is temporary. Nothing to worry about.”
Desperate for something to hold on to, Deidara shot his hand to Sasori’s and pulled. Immediately as he did, the bird took a violent dip to the left.
“Shit!” Sasori wrapped an arm around Deidara’s chest in an attempt to keep them both from plummeting to the ground, and the pressure took the air from Deidara’s lungs. They slid at least a foot to the left, but thankfully Sasori thought quickly and could connect them to the bird’s back with some chakra strings. After their position was more stable, Sasori could reconnect his control over the bird and tilt them back into place.
“So-Sorr--” Deidara sputtered, no air in his lungs
“Don’t talk, just breathe.” Sasori instructed, his tone much more mild than it regularly would be if Deidara messed with his strings. He even offered his free hand, a bit shyly, to Deidara. He took it gratefully, appreciative of the new outlet for his pain. He squeezed hard, and the wood didn’t give under the pressure.
Slowly, the attack passed. Deidara felt his throat clear first and gulped in as much air as he could. Next came his chest, then his sides, and then finally the ache in his gut faded. “Ugh,” he groaned as soon as he felt more like himself, “that sucked.”
“I know. I designed it to be unpleasant.”
Deidara turned his face back into Sasori’s chest, allowing himself the small pleasure of nuzzling. He didn’t dare let go of Sasori’s hand, but his grip became weak from exhaustion. And Sasori thought he could survive ten of these?
Two more of them would come during the duration of the flight. Sasori talked him through each one, gently reminding him to breathe and emphasizing how temporary the feeling would be. His mindset towards the temporary was fascinating. Just because something didn’t last long, did that make it less impactful? Was it supposed to make it easier to handle in the moment? Deidara’s lungs ached from the effort of breathing through the attacks, otherwise he would have brought it up. Instead, he laid in silence.
Eventually the bird landed in front of the gates of the Akatsuki compound. The morning dew was starting to fade and the sky was getting brighter, turning from grey to blue.
“We have 40 minutes to spare,” Sasori said, “but let’s hurry anyway. The sooner we start treatment, the fewer attacks you’ll have to endure.” He gently pushed Deidara off of him and laid him down, then hopped off the bird.
“I’m due for another one soon, yeah?” Deidara’s voice was hoarse.
“In five minutes or so.” Sasori placed a hand on the neck of the bird and lead it through the gates. Keeping the bird around was much easier than dragging Deidara around by himself. He walked slowly for a steady ride, and his control over the bird was very smooth and firm. They passed through the gate into the cool shade of the compound, and their footsteps were loud on the stone floor. There were no other sounds echoing through the many halls. It was possible that they were alone.
They passed under the shadow of the Gedo statue and then left to the hallway that held the treasury and the stairs that led down to the workshop: Sasori and Deidara’s shared space. Slowly but surely, Deidara could feel his stomach cramping up. The tightness spread across his torso, rising to his throat and jaw until he could no longer hide his labored breath.
Sasori slowed the bird to a stop. “The intervals must be getting shorter. We’ll wait here until it passes.”
Sasori walked to Deidara’s side, interlacing his fingers into Deidara’s as he’s done for the last three attacks. His eyes were calm and perceptive as he watched Deidara’s face and chest, monitoring his breathing.
“You-- hate--”
“I do hate waiting. But I’m also not an idiot. We’ll wait here until you can breathe.” Deidara choked, and he closed his eyes tight to shield himself from the world spinning around him. “Relax. I know it gets harder as you go on, which makes breathing all the more important. Focus.”
His next inhale brought with it a spike of pain, and his exhale came in stutters. The inhale after, though he tried, wouldn’t come.
“Deidara.” Sasori rested a hand on Deidara’s shoulder and squeezed with a comfortable amount of pressure. “You should have guessed by now that Strychnine kills by asphyxiation and inner tissue paralysis. I need you to--”
But Deidara could no longer hear him, and the static at the edge of his vision took over.
-----
He woke slowly to the dim lighting of the clinic. Bookshelves, anatomical models, and bottles of medicine cast long shadows on the walls and danced and trembled with the movement of the candles. The bed beneath him, despite its age, was in decent condition. Deidara shifted his shoulders and inhaled, glad to find that the pain in his chest had disappeared. He also noticed that his breath came loudly, and he opened his eyes to find that he had an oxygen mask strapped over his mouth and nose.
He also noticed Sasori sitting at the edge of the bed, peacefully reading a book. He was wearing the casual clothes he usually wore around the compound: a black tank top and loose pants. Deidara smiled behind the oxygen mask and tapped a hand against Sasori’s arm, the closest thing he could reach. The puppeteer’s eyes brightened a fraction before he turned to face Deidara, folding a leg beneath him on the bed.
“Welcome back,” he said.
“Good to be back.” Deidara’s voice was muffled behind the mask, “How long was I out?”
“Five and a half hours. You were awake briefly after I first medicated you but I doubt you remember.”
“Did I say anything stupid?”
“Everything you say is stupid.”
“Hey, now.”
Sasori chuckled and moved a little closer to Deidara so he could reach out and check his pulse. His fingers on Deidara’s skin were cold. “How do you feel?” he asked.
“Tired. Slight headache, but not bad.”
“That’s typical,” Sasori replied, “I have you on a muscle relaxant and a barbiturate sedative. Amobarbital, to be exact. The poison has no antidote, but it’s quite easy to counter the symptoms while it leaves your system on its own.” He took his hand from Deidara’s neck. “The medicines will keep you from having any more attacks and will keep your lungs from closing down.”
“Great. So how long until the poison loosens up?”
“The half-life is 10 hours. So, two and a half days.”
Deidara let out a slow exhale, which echoed through the mask and fogged it up until it looked as white as his clay. “So long.” he said, “Am I gonna have to wear this stupid thing the whole time?”
“No. I just put that on you while you were unconscious. Breathing doesn’t hurt?”
“Nah.”
“Good. Then we can take it off.” Sasori reached behind Deidara’s head, gently shifting through blonde hair to find the clamp. It came off with a click.
As soon as Deidara’s face was uncovered, Sasori kissed him.
It wasn’t as rushed as the kiss they shared earlier. Sasori took his time, letting Deidara’s eyes fall closed and a satisfied hum sound from somewhere deep in his throat. Sasori combed his fingers through Deidara’s hair at a leisurely pace, from scalp to tip, before finally backing off.
Deidara’s eyelids felt heavy, and he kept his eyes closed for several long moments before bothering to open them again. When he did, he found that Sasori didn’t go far; he hovered only a foot or so above Deidara. His brown eyes were steady and unreadable.
“I’m upset with you.” Sasori said, “You underestimated my poison and made a deadly mistake because of it. What if I couldn’t convince you to make the bird? What if we plummeted from a hundred feet when you disrupted my strings? Any number of things could have happened and you would be dead right now.”
Deidara sighed and let his eyes drop closed again. Sasori was right; this wasn’t how Deidara expected things to play out when he jumped into the smoke. He thought that he’d have to tear out the needles from himself, feel a bit woozy, and then let Sasori inject an antidote and feel better within a minute or two. Sounded a lot better than getting pierced through by an arrow. Perhaps that’s what would have happened with Sasori’s earlier poisons, but he’s constantly improving them and making them harder and harder to live through.
“Hm,” Deidara smiled, his eyes still closed, “You’re right, my man. Like you always are. I trusted you to fix me up quick and didn’t really think about the consequences.”
Sasori’s gaze softened and edged close to pensive. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes wandering down to Deidara’s collarbone. His brows were furrowed. “I’m not completely free of blame either,” he said eventually, “I don’t typically carry antidotes or treatments on me. An old habit from when I traveled alone. And that just isn’t the case anymore.”
“Great,” Deidara said, “So, to recap: you learned to cater towards my delicate human flesh and I learned that your poison fucking sucks.”
Sasori laughed, “A sufficient summary.”
“Awesome. Glad we’re on the same page.” Deidara hooked a forearm around Sasori’s shoulders and tugged down until Sasori was laying on his chest. He was surprised when Sasori didn’t put up much of a fight; he locked his elbows for only a moment until he realized what was happening. After that, he just settled into place. Sasori’s weight was comfortable and instantly made him feel a bit more at home in the sterile and overly-organized clinic. “You know,” Deidara said, “it’s times like this that I’m a little sad you can’t fall asleep on me.”
“Sorry my art isn’t compatible with your domestic fantasies.”
They laid in peaceful silence for quite some time. Usually, soft moments like these were dedicated to brainstorming sessions. Deidara first got the idea for his C4 technique with Sasori resting his head on his shoulder. Sasori left the same session with an idea about how he wanted to fill the torso of his most recent puppet. Deidara always found Sasori’s presence grounding; a reminder to slow down and think. Now, with Sasori across his chest and nothing on his mind besides his own tiredness, Deidara barely noticed his breathing slowing and his eyes closing.
-----
He woke again with his chest feeling light. Sasori left at some point, though Deidara had no memory of it. Deidara stretched his back with a grunt and rested a hand over his diaphragm, finding the lightness a bit uncomfortable. When he finally got around to opening his eyes, he noticed that the clinic was completely empty and that there was some food on the bedside table. The meal was far too well-made to be Sasori’s cooking. There was a soup that smelled like potato and some sort of bread that he couldn’t quite place. Maybe banana? It looked delicious either way, and Deidara wasn’t sure how long it’s been since he last ate. He considered reaching out and taking a bite when he heard muffled voices from outside the clinic.
“Unfortunately this isn’t the first time I’ve accidently poisoned an ally,” Sasori said in a low voice. Deidara shot up in bed, the motion making him dizzy. He’s never heard Sasori sound so damn sad before.
“Orochimaru?” Konan asked. She must have been the one who brought the food.
“No. Not Orochimaru.” Sasori sighed. “An idiotic kid I once knew.”
“I see.” Konan’s usual monotone voice had an edge of understanding, “You’re angry with yourself.”
“It was a careless and preventable mistake. If Pein is going to place blame anywhere, tell him to come to me.”
Deidara heard enough. His sedative-heavy limbs weren’t particularly cooperative, and he felt clumsy as he tried to leave the bed and balance on his own two feet, but a firm hand against the wall kept him from falling over. He made slow strides towards the door.
“Pein won’t blame you for this, Sasori.”
“He’s surprised me before.”
Deidara gripped the doorknob, and his uncooperative hands didn’t allow him to push it open civilly. He settled on throwing his body weight into it, leaving him stumbling into the workshop. “Pein better not fucking blame Sasori!” Deidara’s voice came out hoarse and nearly feral with anger. Immediately he felt Sasori’s hands on him, keeping him from fully collapsing to the floor, but Deidara’s eyes were focused on Konan. “It was my own damn fault and that’s it! If Pein has anything to say, send him to me!”
“Shut your damn mouth,” Sasori hissed, “You shouldn’t even be out of bed. How long have you been listening--”
Sasori’s grip on Deidara’s biceps wasn’t strong enough to keep his knees from hitting the floor. Sasori went down with him, kneeling and hooking an arm around Deidara’s torso in hopes of keeping them both steady.
“No, Master Sasori,” the extra epithet made Sasori’s eyes widen, “we already talked about this, yeah? We both fucked up. I’m not about to let you convince Pein that this is somehow your fault--”
“Quiet. Both of you.” Konan’s command was calm and quiet, but both artists obeyed her. The workshop fell into silence, with only Deidara’s heavy breathing to fill the space. Konan allowed a few seconds to pass before saying, “There’s no point in placing blame. You both know that Pein won’t fault anyone for this.”
“You’re sure?” Deidara asked.
“Certain. At most, he’ll want to know if there’s anything he can do to assist in the healing process.” Konan looked to Sasori. “Is there?”
“I-- No. I’m fully prepared to care for him.”
“Good. I never doubted you.” Konan’s eyes wandered briefly over them both. Sasori’s arms wrapped around Deidara’s waist, Deidara’s head leaning against Sasori’s shoulder. “Your partnership was Pein’s best decision. Keep up the good work.”
With that, Konan disappeared into a flurry of paper.
Sasori and Deidara stayed as they were for a long moment and simply watched as the last sheets of paper disappeared from their sights. Deidara found himself resting more of his weight on Sasori, his limbs tingly and exhausted from the effort of getting so far from the bed. The silence was heavy and Sasori definitely had no intentions of breaking it, so Deidara did the honor. “So,” he said, a lot quieter and calmer than he was before,“you were seriously going to tell Pein that this was your fault?”
“Forget about it, brat.” Sasori tossed one of Deidara’s arms around his own shoulders and began the slow process of standing. Once he managed to get Deidara’s feet under him, the load was a lot lighter and they could stand fairly easily. Step by step, they made their way towards the bed.
“No, I wanna talk about it.”
Sasori lead Deidara to sit back down on the bed, but when he tried to pull away, Deidara kept an arm tight around Sasori’s waist. He dragged his open hand up Sasori’s back, slowly, putting some pressure into his touch to make sure Sasori felt as he inched closer and closer to his core. Once there, Deidara simply traced circles into the thin layer of wood between his fingers and Sasori’s heart.
Sasori watched him curiously, no doubt analyzing Deidara’s eyes and smile to try to figure out his intent. Deidara simply continued the motion, his rhythm never swaying, and allowed himself to take some pleasure in the effect that the simple touch had on Sasori. He smiled at the way that Sasori’s jaw loosened, how his blinks came more frequently. It took everything in Deidara’s power to not let out a victory yell when Sasori finally sat down on the mattress. Instead, he gave a soft, appreciative hum and increased the pressure of his fingertips.
Sasori’s eyelids fluttered shut and he sighed in frustration. “Fine,” he said, “Let’s talk.”
Deidara couldn’t keep a grin from his face. “Did I ever tell you about my time with the bomber squad?”
Sasori gave him a skeptical look. “No.”
Deidara continued rubbing circles into the back of Sasori’s core, occasionally changing the direction. “I killed two of them. Accidents, both times. The first once was actually a bit like what happened to us; I lost eyes on him but had to send in a bomb anyway or else our target would get away. He was caught in the blast and I couldn’t recover even a finger of him. The second one was bit bloodier. I miscalculated a blast and ended up blowing off her left arm and a good chunk of her ribcage. Tried to carry her back to base but she didn’t last very long.”
“Your point?”
“You said that you’ve accidently poisoned an ally before, right?”
Sasori’s gaze lowered. Without thinking about it, Deidara pulled him closer until their chests were flushed together and Sasori’s chin sat atop Deidara’s shoulder, and as soon as they were situated he resumed his slow tracing. Sasori didn’t return the embrace but didn’t fight it either, and that’s the best Deidara could hope for.
“It was a boy from Suna.” Sasori explained, “He lost an arm during a mission and I made a replacement for him. It was my first time attaching a puppet limb to a living person, and I placed the poison release mechanism too close to his nerves. The next time he fought, the arm took an impact and the mechanism shattered.”
“He died?”
“He died.”
“Hm.” Deidara resisted the temptation to ask more questions. He imagined Sasori must have been in his youth at the time. What was his life in Suna like? How did he know this kid? He quieted himself, knowing that Sasori would shut down under too many questions. “I’ve messed up a lot too. Sucks, yeah?”
Slowly, Sasori relaxed into the embrace, putting more and more of his weight onto Deidara. Even with his limbs feeling weak and uncoordinated, Deidara could more than handle the extra pressure. “Yeah,” Sasori agreed quietly.
“I’m not really sure what else to say, but--”
“You’ve said enough,” Sasori replied. It was hard to tell if that meant ‘you’re annoying me and need to shut up’ or ‘what you’ve said so far was helpful.’ Deidara knew better than to question it, though.
“Hm.”
Sasori pulled away a fraction, just enough that he could look Deidara in the eyes and give him his usual uncompromising glare. “You should eat the food that Konan so kindly brought for you.”
“Whatever you say, my man.”
-----
Konan brought breakfast the following morning as well, and it was just as delicious. Although she opted for the same potato soup, she decided on pancakes rather than banana bread and it was absolutely perfect. Her meals were especially appreciated considering the fact that Sasori had no idea of how to sustain a human being. Deidara learned how to cook a few simple meals out of necessity, but in the early stages of healing, he had no real energy to. Sasori ended up scrambling to find some food for him in the evenings. Buttered bread, noodles, and rice were all he could really provide. It was a relief for both of them as Deidara finally began to cook for himself.
As each half-life of the poison passed, Deidara felt himself feeling much more free. His joints and chest loosened up, and the decreasing doses of sedatives allowed him to do more than just sleep the day away. With that came another problem: boredom. On Sasori’s insistence, Deidara couldn’t use any chakra unnecessarily, including the chakra he’d thread into his clay. No art. Deidara passed the time by either bothering Sasori as he worked or by attempting a painting; an impressionistic kaleidoscope of blues and greens that he’d be sure to blow up as soon as he was able to.
Spending so much time with Sasori also allowed Deidara to gauge his mood. His master was seeming more and more like himself the closer that Deidara got to full recovery.
“It’s cute that you’re so worried about me,” Deidara joked one night as Sasori was carving at a block of wood that would soon be a fingertip, “You’re gonna spoil me, you know. Maybe I’ll get poisoned on purpose next time.”
“If you do, I’m leaving you where you drop.”
“Meanie.” Deidara moved from his position beside the desk and sat right atop it. “On a semi-related note, though, I had an idea.”
“Semi-related to what, exactly?” Sasori glanced away from his carving for just long enough to shoot a glare at Deidara.
“Don’t yell at me for asking, yeah?” Deidara grinned, “But is there a safe dosage of Strychnine?”
“There’s a safe dosage for nearly everything. What are you thinking?”
“So, it really wasn’t all that bad at first. I saw a whole bunch of colors and everything felt really soft. And you were pretty as hell. You’re pretty as hell all the time, but it was unbearable
with the Strychnine. See where I’m going?”
“You want to have it for fun.”
“Fuck yeah I do. And I want you there when I do it.”
“Challenge accepted.”