Like A Puppet On A String

Deidara’s gagging only felt good, and seeing that lovely panicked look on his face when he realized he couldn’t breathe was better.  Sasori’s blond was a gorgeous little thing who looked his best on his knees, that was certain.  “Oh, you are aching for punishment today, aren’t you?”  Perhaps it didn’t show on his face, but Sasori was certainly starting to grow annoyed by the blond’s stubbornness.  He was a man who knew what he wanted, and for Deidara to refuse only infuriated him.  “Well, pet, I’m perfectly happy to indulge.”

While he would prefer to keep Deidara’s mouth stretched around his cock where it belonged, Sasori wasn’t exactly enthused about the idea of getting bitten.  He finally pulled Deidara off his cock, allowing the blond to breathe as he wiped away some of those tears.  Sweetness and cruelty came in turns, though, of course they did, and in the next moment he slapped Deidara across the same cheek, hard enough to make his own hand ache.  “You’re a little fucking painslut, aren’t you?  Always whining when I give it to you, but still ready to disobey to get it.”  He pushed Deidara onto his back, not careful in the least as he watched the blond fall.  “If I told you I would give you whatever you wanted, I think you’d cry for more pain.”

The pleasure of those fingers running through his hair was far different from the pleasure of having it pulled on, and far more important.  It showed just how well they could fit together if only they tried.  If only they could think for a single second that they were loved and the other wasn’t making an attempt to hurt.  If only they could focus on coming to a solution rather than being right.  Such a thing directly opposed the two of them, showed exactly how dark and twisted a thing their relationship could become with the slightest push.  Sasori didn’t want to think about it.  Maybe it was better if he just stopped thinking altogether.

Sasori’s nature didn’t lend itself to relaxation, never would, and the regret in Deidara’s tone translated to displeasure with him instead.  “Neither did I.”  So soft, so soft.  The softness, delicacy in the air made him feel set up to shatter, and he hated it.  “I didn’t think you’d ever actually come over here again, though, so it seems I make a habit of being wrong.”  Sasori wanted to stay like this, wanted to spend an eternity playing with Deidara’s hair and being held like some lovesick puppy, and he was better than that.  He was tempted to shove the blond away and insist he get out, but Deidara had made up his mind and Sasori wasn’t strong enough to force him.  He hated the contrast to previous heats spent with the blond, though, a comparison between the safehappyloved of before and the hurtworryguilt of now.  Even worse was the sweet desire to return to before.

A content, shuddering sigh left his lips at Deidara’s hands stroking along his back, and he went with the movement eagerly.  Sasori moved as the blond wanted him to, leaning back against Deidara’s chest and letting his eyes close.  There was something so unbearably safe about being settled in his alpha’s arms, knotted and surrounded by warmth.  It was simply good.  And the hair petting certainly didn’t hurt matters, a sound closest to a purr sounding from his throat.

Finally getting the release he had been craving for days was glorious, but being fucked through it was better, Sasori’s body ached for it.  His body stayed relaxed and pliant even as the thick knot pulled at his rim, just a warm, wet hole for his alpha to fuck as he pleased.  God, his alpha, which Deidara wasn’t supposed to be.  Deidara wasn’t supposed to be there at all, he and Deidara weren’t together anymore, but...  Christ, if he could even think about ever being apart from him again.

Deidara’s pace was punishing, pushing him forward with every thrust but more than enough to make his mind blank, focused entirely on pressing back into it.  The stretch was glorious, ripping sounds from him that any other time he would force down.  A strong hand in his hair only felt better, holding him exactly how Deidara wanted him and letting his moans tumble out uninhibited.

The shirt had been forgotten in the face of how quickly he could obey, and when Deidara pulled him back it occurred to Sasori to be embarrassed about it.  But Deidara didn’t seem to care, hardly seemed to notice other than to take the damn thing off.  He just wanted, wanted, wanted, and Deidara was only focused on delivering.  Why wasn’t it always like this, why wasn’t it always so easy to let Deidara see him when he was down?

His reputation as a fussy sourpuss was well deserved, but in that moment Sasori could think of nothing he would change.  Blood was trickling down his neck and fluid dripping off his thighs, but if anything he wanted more bites, more pleasure, everything Deidara could offer to him.  Was it dangerous to encourage Deidara’s biting him like this?  Certainly, but no one else would ever fit him better.  If Sasori was going to be bound to someone, it would be Deidara.

Sharp nails scratched at the blond’s shoulders as they kissed, sweet moans the only thing getting between their lips until Deidara pulled back.  God, it was so much easier to stop fighting, to just accept that Deidara never meant to hurt him, never intended to do anything against him.  It was so much easier than pride.

Deidara’s reaction was unexpected, Sasori had obviously vastly underestimated the alpha’s agitation.  He had expected Deidara to growl at him, press him down, make him hold still as he did what he liked, but instead...  Instead he was a mess, letting out needy, loud cries as his nails dug lightly into Deidara’s skin.  Where was this every time he wanted to stop arguing but got caught in a spiral of hurt and pride?  Deidara’s scent had nearly disappeared from his home and it was a drug like no other to the omega squealing eagerly under him.

The feeling of Deidara’s cock pressing up against him was good, far too good, and right.  It had always felt right with Deidara, every touch, every word, everything felt right with Deidara.  Even when he was angry, when Deidara did nothing but shout at him, it felt better than any time he spent elsewhere.  It felt as if they were halves of a whole, constantly circling each other to try and figure out how to fit together.  But there were so many jagged edges, and it seemed as though they both took the press of one to be an attack rather than defense.  This was Deidara, though, Sasori’s sun, the one who meant more than anything, anyone.  Deidara’s attention to his neck made Sasori keen, long, high calls of yes, please, more.  He wanted to be able to find a way to connect with Deidara without so much anger, but it never seemed quite right.  Every attempt was taken badly and misconstrued, and he didn’t recognize Deidara’s attempts either.  In the end, as always, the only thing they could do without fighting was fuck.  When Sasori was in heat, though, needed to be fucked and knotted and bred, it wasn’t a bad thing.

It was obvious Deidara’s anger with him ceased somewhat with the honest apology and Sasori reached out for him gratefully when the blond bent to pick him up.  His arms settled around the blond’s shoulders, holding him close as he finally got the kiss he didn’t know he was aching for.  He whined, high and needy as his thighs hooked over Deidara’s hips, arching into every speck of attention given to him.  With anyone else, he wouldn’t be like this.  Sasori wouldn’t trust anyone to manhandle him like this, to fuck him like this, to be anywhere near his neck, but Deidara...  Deidara was different.  Deidara was the one he loved with all his heart.

Thin fingers buried in blond hair, combing through it as he bit softly at the lips pressed to his own, although it quickly devolved to outright sucking on Deidara’s lower lip.  Deidara touched him like he was starving for it, and Sasori wouldn’t mind being devoured.  He outright whimpered when he was pulled away from the blond’s body, Sasori felt hot, too hot, and the air was so cold.  Having Deidara away for a second proved to be unbearable.

The sharp addition of Deidara’s pheromones to the air made every muscle in his body go limp at once, he went from shoving Deidara away to clinging to him once more.  Sasori hated this weakness, hated that Deidara had this much hold over him, but in this one instance he knew it was a good thing.  Regardless of what his pride insisted, Sasori needed Deidara to stay.

Rather than continuing the possessive, seductive touches, Deidara found a firm grip on his throat, cutting off his air and bloodflow.  Maybe it was the lack of oxygen that did it, but it occurred to Sasori, for the first time, that maybe his tendency to expect a fight had found one where there wasn't one. Deidara wanted...  But then why did he say it like that, why did he use that tone that sounded so superior, why did he need to make it seem like Sasori was admitting something to be mocked for?  It felt as if his stress and anxiety were as physical in the room as he was, how could Deidara not know?

The potent dose of hormones kept him lax and content even in Deidara’s grip, he made no efforts to move. Deidara wasn't trying to upset him. He wasn't trying for some kind of power trip. Of course he wasn't... Deidara wasn't like that. The revelation took the remaining fight out of him, and the sudden lack of support made his legs give, allowing him to crumple to the floor and knock his head against the workbench.

"I needed you- Need you. I want you."