Itachi was always watching him, didn't matter what Deidara was doing. He could simply be eating a bowl of rice, or kneading a new sculpture made of clay, or he could be just sleeping, his eyes fluttering with the different dreams he had.
Itachi was always watching him, wanting to remember every move Deidara made. How sometimes the tanned hand went up to his face to brush away the blond locks. How his feet would part a little when he was ready for the attack. How his muscles moved whenever he was taking off his clothes to take a shower.
Deidara knew Itachi was always watching him, the blue eyes always glancing back at him with a knowing look.
Still Itachi couldn't stop watching. Not when those blue eyes held an angry sparkle. Not when Deidara tried avoiding him by walking away. Not even when Deidara tried making him jealous, letting others watch him as well.
Itachi didn't mind others watching Deidara, because Deidara was supposed to be watched. Not even Deidara could decide against this. Deidara was there to be watched. There was only one thing Deidara could decide on. It had taken Itachi long before Deidara had decided it was alright. He had watched many times, times when he wasn't supposed to be watching, but those times made Deidara feel extra special and that was what this was about.
Deidara needed to feel special, like his art was special to him. Deidara was Itachi's art now.
Itachi was always watching Deidara, like he was now. His red eyes focused on that beautiful body, moving in ways that made Itachi think of art. Blue eyes fluttered closed, luscious lips parted slightly and those gorgeous sounds rolling off those parted lips. Itachi was creating something beautiful, making Deidara a piece of art with every thrust.
Deidara had decided it was okay for Itachi to touch, because simply watching was not enough anymore.
Now Itachi was always touching Deidara, because simply touching wasn't enough anymore and he had to convince Deidara that it was okay for Itachi to love.
Characters © Masashi Kishimoto