Here it is, Chapter 28. It only took...a year and a half-ish. I hope anyone who is still with me enjoys it and that new readers will as well.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, read, and enjoyed, it means so much.

I still don't own anything. Warnings include boysmut during the first flashback. Enjoy.

Having fallen into a habit of self-deprecating sentimentality, Sasori's thoughts returned to a time when they were both happy and a time in which he began to realize just how dangerous it was for the pair of them to be together. He recalled it easily; comparing it to the recent relations they'd had beneath the tree in the forest.

Sasori trailed hot kisses down the blond's throat, nimble fingers tracing ghostly patterns over the soft skin of his stomach. Deidara's back arched to the touch as he tried to stifle a guttural moan in the red head's hair. Sasori's other hand was busy preparing the blond's entrance. The clay artist's hips bucked into his hand, and the owner panted, "Danna…now, un."

Without question Sasori complied, thrusting into the wanton blond. He felt ripples of chakra spike uncontrollably in the other artist's fingertips as they raked his back and through his hair.

"Move." Deidara whispered huskily. There was no way Sasori could deny him that demand.

He pulled away from the blond's throat to marvel at the writhing body beneath him. Gripping Deidara's weeping member loosely, he began to stoke in alternating time with his rhythm. Half-lidded eyes met his and he leaned forward to crush their lips together. Deidara moaned into his mouth and he felt the ecstasy reverberating through his head. It was like Deidara was everywhere inside him. He pulled away to nip along the blond's jawline as Deidara thrust wildly into his hand and against him. One arm was haphazardly slung over his neck and the other moving up and down his chest, Sasori felt the blond shudder under him. Without warning he was overcome with a strange feeling, like his entire body was on fire; he opened his eyes to watch Deidara arch into him, biting his lip in rapture as his seed spilled over his and Sasori's stomachs.

"I love you." The words were out before Sasori could stop himself. Silence, except for Deidara's attempt to catch his breath.

Sasori rolled off the panting blond beneath him, the words he had spoken hung in the air like a bomb blast. I love you, three words he had let slip. He couldn't be sure that Deidara had even heard him because the clay artist hadn't said anything, he had completely ignored the utterance.

Sasori's mind raced as he waited for Deidara to say something, anything. Deidara, however, remained silent as he settled next to Sasori, resting his chin on the red head's chest. Tentatively, Sasori wrapped an arm around the blond. He supposed that this was a signal for them to ignore what he had said.

Sasori pondered the two very different reactions he'd had to Deidara messing with the chakra flow of his heart. The first time he'd done it, Sasori had blurted three words which he could never take back. Those three words, which Deidara would come to find to be true and those three words which now haunted him and would continue to haunt him for as long as the blond remained his partner; those were the words which were eating away at him as they walked in this distressed silence.

The latest time Deidara had done it, which was just yesterday, it had startled Sasori so much that he found it ridiculously hard to be in the clay artist's presence without wanting to try the miraculous sensation again. He had made it so long without so much as a kiss from the blond, and here he was- freshly given in to temptation, feeling guilty and yet, wanting nothing more than to do it again. All the effort of the past three years, two months and five days-not that he had been counting- had been for nothing. He was back where he started, caught up in the blond and the pleasures which came with being caught.

There were two directions in which he could proceed. The first, and the easiest, would be to give in to his and Deidara's wishes. The second, which had recently been proven ineffective, would be to ignore the other artist's attempts to rekindle their…past mistakes, Sasori would call them.

Sasori marveled over the labor that was ignoring the blond, it was obvious to the both of them that there was something still there, clawing at the pair of them, refusing to let go. He had thought that by ignoring it, it would wither- leaving him with peace of mind and a rational head; he was terribly wrong. Though his feelings had not intensified, to his knowledge, neither had they weakened. But if he gave in, if he gave in would he doom the pair of them? Would they be able to continue the mission of collecting the Bijuu without risking the mission itself, let alone themselves?

The bigger question was: would he be willing to risk it?

Sasori had, afterall, already proven himself a liar, a coward and completely insensitive. He had blurted plenty of things he didn't mean and plenty more he had never meant to reveal. The red head was forcibly reminded of the accidental conversation following the unintentional three word declaration of feelings.

"If you hated him so much, why did you choose Itachi?" Sasori nearly hit himself as the question that was plaguing him finally slipped out. He managed, however, to refrain from speaking aloud the last part of the question; 'to make me jealous.'

Deidara was quiet for a moment and Sasori hoped that he had fallen asleep. The blond spoke finally, "Akasuna no Sasori, master of pillow talk, hmm," the words were muffled because the clay artist was speaking into his shoulder.

Sasori winced at his own stupidity. He'd never had these problems before, he'd never spoken what was on his mind without careful articulation, this was not only frustrating but embarrassing.

Sasori thought that Deidara would ignore the question, but when the blond spoke again he stated calmly, "I hate him for beating me at my own game, getting me dragged into this organization without my own choosing. I hate him for taking away my freedom and my piece of mind, hmm. I wanted him to feel humiliated and I wanted him to suffer." The words were harsh, but the blond's voice remained calm. "Not to mention, I figured he would bother you most."

Sasori almost missed the dry humor in those words, "I think Kisame, actually, would have been worse…"

Deidara snorted, "I do have taste, you know, danna, yeah."

"Thank god for that."

Sasori glanced at the blond walking next to him, Deidara seemed to be in his own world. The puppeteer couldn't help but wonder what the blond was thinking. Was he thinking the same things Sasori was; could they jeopardize the mission and their livelihood for their whims? The blond's brow was furrowed under his fringe, Sasori thought it looked like he had come to a decision.

The red head found himself to be correct when Deidara said his name, "Sasori-danna…"

"Mm." Sasori wasn't sure what to expect.

"I…apologize for my impertinence. We've worked for three years to complete this part of the mission yeah, and now that we are so close to succeeding…" Deidara paused, "I realize that we should approach the coming trials professionally, hmm."

They had come to a stop, Deidara was slightly behind him so he couldn't see the expression on the clay artist's face. Sasori wasn't sure what to say. "I see." Sasori hesitated before adding, "Perhaps…after this is taken care of…" He didn't want to say the words that were dancing on the tip of his tongue. This was going to be dangerous, and the blond was very much destructible. Could they really focus completely on the task at hand when such a promising conclusion lay before them?

Deidara had resumed his previous pace, and chose not to reply to Sasori's statement until after he had moved slightly past the puppeteer; ensuring that Sasori would be unable to see his expression. "Perhaps, yeah." Sasori couldn't see it, but there was a small smile on the blond's face; a smile of hope that all their research would pay off and that everything would go back to the way it was before they realized the gravity of the situation at hand. It was a smile that wasn't quite happy, but had no reason yet to be sad.

Sasori wore the same hidden smile.

I think I have changed a lot as a writer, whether this is good or bad, you'll have to tell me. Thank you.