"'What is REAL?' asked the Rabbit one day. 'Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?'

'Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse. 'It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.'

'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit.

'Sometimes.'"

-Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit

"Hey, Danna…"

Sasori didn't look up. He stood, hunched over his worktable, his back to Deidara as he fiddled with something.

Deidara slipped his arms around Sasori from behind and nuzzled the nape of his neck. Even knowing Sasori couldn't feel it, he always wanted to touch that smooth, pale, flawless skin.

"Not now, Deidara." With a pair of metal pincers, Sasori picked up a transparent, flexible tube no longer or thicker than a blade of grass. He held it in front of his eyes. "I'm busy."

He licked the back of Sasori's neck. "You work too hard, danna. You've been in here all day. You need to unwind. Why don't you come into the bedroom?" He rubbed his erection against Sasori's small, firm ass. "Come on, please?" He leaned a little closer and whispered into one perfect little ear: "I need you."

Sasori twitched.

Those were the magic words. Sasori could almost never resist them, and Deidara knew it, so he used them frequently and shamelessly.

Sasori sighed and set the object down on his worktable. "You're like a cat in heat." He looked over one shoulder and frowned. "This is important. How am I to get anything done when you're always coming in and pestering me for attention?"

"That's so cold, un. Is that little tube really more interesting than I am?" He tried to grab Sasori's left hand, but it simply wasn't there. He looked down. "Hey, you took your arm off."

"You only just noticed?"

Deidara looked at the worktable again and saw Sasori's left arm laying among his scattered tools. "What are you doing, exactly?" he asked, curiosity finally overcoming horniness.

"I'm trying to create artificial nerve-endings."

"Really? Then…you think it's possible, after all?"

"I don't know. We'll see." With a scalpel, he cut a small opening in his detached arm. As Deidara watched, he secured the thin tube inside, then reattached the arm to his shoulder. He turned to Deidara and held out the arm. "I want you to touch me right here." He pointed to a spot near his wrist.

Deidara reached out.

"Not yet. If you touch me now, I might just imagine that I feel something. I'm going to close my eyes. Wait a moment or two, then do it without telling me when."

"Okay."

Sasori closed his eyes.

Deidara waited about ten seconds. Sasori stood motionless, holding out his arm, a tiny furrow of concentration between his eyes. After another few seconds, Deidara reached out and ran his fingertip lightly over Sasori's wrist.

No reaction.

He withdrew his hand.

"Now?" said Sasori. "Are you touching me now?"

"Um…no, un. But I did. About ten seconds ago. Did you feel it?"

"No." Sasori opened his eyes. His expression didn't change, but Deidara had known him long enough now that he could read his moods in his eyes. Disappointment clouded their amber depths. "I felt nothing."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "I didn't expect to perfect this overnight. It's a delicate and complicated thing, and it's never been attempted before. Perhaps it is impossible. But I want to try. I want to feel things again." He glanced at Deidara. "This is your fault, you know."

"Why is it my fault, un?"

"I never cared about any of this before I met you. But you have me wanting things I haven't wanted in decades."

Deidara ran his fingertips lightly along Sasori's smooth, pale arm. "I'd love to be able to make you come. To give you what you give me."

"I doubt I'll ever have the capacity for sexual pleasure. That's exclusive to flesh. But just to feel your touch, to feel anything, would be…" He trailed off, staring at the floor.

Deidara wrapped his arms around Sasori and squeezed him as tight as he could. Some irrational part of his brain always thought that if he hugged Sasori hard enough, he'd be able to feel it. Of course, it didn't work that way.

Sasori rested passively in his arms, not reciprocating, but not pushing him away either.

"You will succeed," said Deidara. "You're a genius, after all. But maybe you should take a break, un. You're probably tired. It's easier to get discouraged when you're tired."

"I never get tired."

"Even if your body doesn't, your mind still needs a break now and then."

Sasori looked up at him and smiled. "You're just saying that because you want sex."

"No, un. Actually, I might be okay with just holding you for awhile."

"Are you sure?" Sasori slipped a hand beneath Deidara's robes, and his fingertips ghosted across his chest.

Deidara's breath caught in his throat, and his heartbeat quickened. "Well, un…it does seem kind of unfair to demand it from you all the time if you can't enjoy it…"

"Even if my body can't feel, I still like to watch your responses to me. I'm not an altruist. I wouldn't do this for you if I didn't enjoy it on some level." He tugged Deidara's robes open, exposing his chest. His fingertips found one stiff, pink nipple and pinched.

Deidara gasped. "I j-just…wish I understood better what you get out of it, un."

"Hmm…" Sasori smiled and tugged the nipple. "It's so easy to make you respond." He tugged a little harder. "I have very sharp hearing, you know. I can hear the way your heart beats faster whenever I touch you…the way your breathing quickens…" His fingertips trailed down Deidara's flat stomach, over the bulge in his pants, and Deidara moaned, soft and low. "I like hearing you moan and gasp. I like seeing you struggle to control your expression when I touch you. The way you clench your fists, the way your pulse flutters in that pale throat. Your whole body begs to be fucked. And you can't control any of it."

"N-no," he whispered. "I can't."

"That's right. I control all of that. You're like a puppet, responding obediently to my every touch, my every command. It's an enjoyable feeling." He slipped one small, strong hand into Deidara's pants and curled slim fingers around his hard, aching cock. Those cool fingertips wandered over his erection, stroking and teasing it from base to head.

"Un…oh, danna…you're gonna make me come…"

"Do you think I'd let you do that so soon? We're going into the bedroom. I want to play with my favorite puppet some more." He slid his hand out of Deidara's pants, then stepped back. As Deidara watched, breathless, he lifted that pale, elegant hand, letting it hang in the air for a moment. The fingers flexed, then twitched.

Deidara couldn't see the chakra strings emanating from Sasori's fingertips, but he felt the jolt as they hit him all at once. He stood, heart thundering.

"Go into the bedroom, Deidara," said Sasori, a tiny, satisfied smile on his lips. He wiggled his fingers, and Deidara felt his limbs moving without his consent. He turned and walked out of the workshop, Sasori following a few steps behind.

There was always something oddly arousing about feeling his own body move without his permission. His cock throbbed in his pants as he looked over his shoulder.

"Eyes ahead," said Sasori. He moved his thumb a fraction of an inch, and Deidara's head turned against his will.

They walked into the bedroom, and Sasori pulled the door shut behind them.

Sasori turned to face Deidara, who stood in the center of the bedroom, rigid and trembling, his cheeks flushed. His robes hung open, exposing his pale chest, trim stomach, and the bulge in his pants. Sasori's eyes lingered on that bulge for a moment. Then he twitched his fingers again. The chakra strings released Deidara's limbs, reattached themselves to his clothes and tugged them off. His robe fell to the floor. His pants and boxers slipped down and bunched around his ankles, leaving his engorged cock exposed.

Deidara trembled, panting. "D-danna…please, hurry…"

"What's this?" Sasori arched an eyebrow. "My puppet is giving me orders? This won't do." A flick of his fingers, and the chakra strings reattached themselves to Deidara's limbs. With the tiniest movements of his hand, Sasori dragged Deidara onto the bed, pinned his wrists together over his head, spread his legs and hoisted his hips off the sheets, exposing the shadowed crevice between his firm cheeks.

Deidara wriggled, struggling against the invisible restraints. "Sasori, I'm serious!" he gasped out. "I'm really horny right now. I'll beg you if you want, un. Just touch me, please."

"Don't rush me." Sasori dragged a chair from the corner of the room, to the foot of the bed, and sat, facing Deidara. From here, he had a clear view of Deidara's spread legs and everything between them: his stiff cock, his full, tight balls, and the tight, pink hole, just visible below. He leaned back in the chair, one hand hanging in front of him with the chakra threads pulled taut between his fingertips and Deidara's body. He scissored his fingers open, spreading those trim legs wider still. Deidara moaned, a soft, pleading, desperate sound.

Sasori smiled. He rested his elbow on the chair's arm and propped his cheek on his fist. For a moment, he just stared at that exposed hole.

"I thought you...hated...making people wait," panted Deidara.

"I'll make an exception for you."

"Daaaaanaaa!" His voice was almost a whine.

Sasori chuckled. He raised his other hand. More chakra strings shot from his fingers. Two of them slipped into Deidara's body and stretched his passage open, preparing him.

"Unnn...please..."

Two more chakra threads shot out, anchored themselves to Deidara's eyelids and pulled them down, forcefully closing his eyes.

"Hey! What--"

"I've decided to take away your sight for now. This will feel more intense without the distraction of vision."

"But I like seeing you."

"Hush. I'll give you your sight back when I feel like it. For now, just relax."

At a thought from Sasori, the long, retractable metal cable in his stomach snaked out and emerged from beneath his robe. Earlier he'd unscrewed the sharp, poisoned tip and replaced it with the smoother, blunter one he reserved for these occasions. Now, the cable slithered across the bed. The tip pressed lightly against Deidara's full balls, teasing them, then nosed its way between those round cheeks and probed his exposed asshole.

Deidara gasped.

Sasori squirted lubricant from the cable's tip, onto that waiting hole, and pressed forward. He watched the tight, pink ring of muscle stretch and blossom open, watched the head of the cable vanish into Deidara's body. He pushed deeper.

Though the metal cable was as unfeeling as the rest of him, he knew from experience just where and how to move it. He knew how to angle it so that the smooth, blunt tip was pressed firmly against that little pleasure-button inside Deidara's body. And he knew just how much pressure to apply to keep his lover teetering on that thin, shining line between pleasure and pain.

He watched Deidara's hips begin to buck. His cock was so engorged it seemed like it must hurt, the head flushed a deep purplish-red, the veins standing out in sharp relief, the slit at its tip weeping a clear fluid. His balls swelled, preparing to release their contents. Then, just as he was about to come, Sasori withdrew the cable. It emerged slick and glistening.

"Oh, you bastard!" gasped Deidara. He wriggled, panting, his pale skin gleaming with sweat. His cock jerked up and down, straining for the release it so desperately needed. "Put it back, un!"

"Bossing me around again. What am I to do with you?" He rose from his chair and approached. Still holding Deidara in place with his chakra, he climbed onto the bed.

Despite Deidara's protests and curses, he knew that deep down, this was what he craved—being mastered, being held in the palm of his danna's expert hand. His resistance—and the way Sasori broke his resistance—was part of it. He did it all for Deidara's pleasure…because his pleasure, his body's response, was what Sasori wanted. Needed.

He sometimes wondered which of them was really in control.

Now, Sasori leaned over him until his face was a few inches from Deidara's. Deidara's mouth was open, gasping, his eyes still closed; Sasori could see them moving in frantic little flickers beneath the lids, straining against the chakra strings that held them shut. "Let's see those eyes." He let the two chakra strings dissolve, and Deidara's eyes opened. They were dazed with lust, dreamy and unfocused, the pupils huge, leaving only a thin edge of blue around each.

Deidara never hid his feelings. His soul was in those eyes, spread out for Sasori to examine. But he wanted to hear the words, anyway. "Say it," he whispered.

"Danna, I need you," Deidara whispered back. "I need you so much. Please…"

Sasori wrapped his fingers around Deidara's cock. The metal cable pressed into his body and moved in and out.

Deidara was already so close to the edge. It didn't take long. Sasori thrust the cable deeper, bringing the tip against the small node inside him, and Deidara cried out. Come spurted from the tip of his cock and onto his stomach.

Sasori released the chakra strings from Deidara's limbs. Then he stretched out on the bed beside him, one pale hand resting on Deidara's heaving chest. He watched that chest rise and fall. His eyes drank in the sheen of sweat on his lover's skin, the flush in his milky cheeks. Several long, blond strands fell across his face, clinging to his damp brow. His blue eyes gazed into space. Then, slowly, they focused on Sasori's face. "Danna…thank you," he whispered.

"You needn't thank me." He ran one finger across those parted lips. They looked very soft.

He'd never realized before what a remarkable thing human skin was. So pliant, so supple and sensitive. He pressed his finger lightly against Deidara's lower lip, observing the way it yielded to his touch--like the clay Deidara was so fond of--the way the light reflected off that smooth, pinkish flesh. His gaze wandered down to Deidara's cock, now at rest, curled against his thigh.

Even when he himself was human, Sasori had always found certain aspects of human anatomy distasteful. Humans leaked, sweated, stank and oozed things out of their various orifices. And human genitals—male and female alike—were aesthetically absurd, in his estimation. They failed to captivate him the way they did so many others. He'd essentially de-sexed himself when he became a puppet, but at the time, he hadn't considered it a great loss. He had only vague memories of his own maleness and the troubles it had caused him; sharp, throbbing little erections during class, bizarre dreams that left his sheets sticky, embarrassment and confusion.

Now, though, he would have given almost anything to have that part of himself back.

Somehow, this loud, excitable blond brat had changed him, awakened a dormant part of his heart, forced him to admit—if only to himself—that deep down, he still needed and craved love. If he'd given up his soul for this immortal, ageless body, then Deidara had given it back to him. For the first time in years, he felt…real.

But not human. He could never truly be human again.

"Danna? You okay?"

"Hm? Yes. Why do you ask?"

"I dunno, un. You look sad."

"You're imagining things." Sasori ran his fingers through Deidara's hair. "Get some sleep."

Deidara nodded and closed his eyes.

Later, in his workshop, Sasori inserted another thin tube into his arm, closed his eyes and ran a finger over his wrist. Let me feel something, he thought. Anything, no matter how faint. He focused his mind, probing through the emptiness, searching for that elusive glimmer of sensation.

Nothing.

Sasori buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook, but his eyes remained dry. He had no tears to shed.

The door creaked open. "Danna?"

"It's no use," Sasori whispered.

He heard approaching footsteps. Deidara reached out and touched his shoulder. "Do you want to talk?"

"There's nothing to talk about. I've been fooling myself. This is a waste of my time."

"Don't give up. Please."

Sasori stared into space. "You know," he said quietly, "when I was a child I spent a great deal of time crying over the loss of my parents. I hated it—the pointlessness of it. Crying never fixed anything. Yet I couldn't seem to stop. So I decided that I never wanted to cry again. I got my wish. I haven't cried for twenty years. With this body, it's not even possible. I thought it would be a relief…but it's not. Now there's just this emptiness with no solace, no release, no end in sight. I was prepared to make sacrifices for my immortality. I suppose I just didn't realize the full extent of that sacrifice."

Deidara placed a finger beneath Sasori's chin, lifting it. Sasori met his gaze and saw those blue eyes wet with tears. "Deidara…"

"If you can't cry, then I'll do it for you." He leaned down and kissed Sasori's unfeeling lips.

Sasori stared up at him. "You should stop this."

"What?"

"Trying to love me. It will only leave you frustrated and empty in the end. You'll grow to hate me."

"Why would I do that?"

"I can't be what you truly want or need. I can't respond to you as another human could."

"Don't be stupid. You know you're the only person I want." Deidara lifted him into his arms and carried him out of the workshop, down the hall, to the bedroom.

"I can walk," Sasori murmured.

"I want to carry you. Let me?"

Sasori relented and rested his head on Deidara's shoulder. If the other members of Akatsuki could see him now, he thought, they'd have a good laugh—the great Sasori, feared around the world for his deadly skill in puppets and poison, now curled up in his partner's arms like a small child. But fortunately, no one was here to see, and he found that—oddly enough—he didn't mind being carried.

Deidara lay him down on the bed and snuggled next to him. Sasori gazed at his face. He needed Deidara—needed him more than he'd ever dare to reveal or admit. To Sasori, who wasn't used to feeling things, it was a terrifying sensation…but addictive, all the same.

Sasori's life had been one transformation after another. He'd been born human. Then he'd become a puppet--rigid, unfeeling, with a heart made of wood and a body to match. Now he was neither puppet nor human, but something in between. And for better or worse, he could never go back. Deidara had transformed him.

He watched Deidara's eyelids drift shut, listened as his breathing grew slow and even. Once he was sure his partner was asleep, he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Please don't stop needing me," he whispered.

-The End