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Sasori was one of the last people Deidara would picture keeping flowers on his desk.

It took Deidara a split second to remember that the man must be keeping them for poison, not because he found a strange fixation with their eternal beauty or whatever. Clashing views on art aside, though, the flowers were indeed eye-catching. An assortment of purple hydrangea and white daphne were stored in glass pots—dainty little killers. Deidara thought they fit Sasori—he looked fragile and beautiful, but he stung harder than a scorpion.

Deidara knew better than to touch anything on Sasori’s workspace, so he settled for admiring them a few meters away from the desk.

The door behind him opened, and Deidara could feel a frown behind him. “Why are you here?”

“This is our workshop. Why shouldn’t I be here?” Deidara retorted.

Sasori clicked his tongue in annoyance. “You’re near my space.”

“As far as I know, I’m barely passing the invisible barrier that separates your personal bubble from mine.”

Sasori rolled his eyes and gestured him to move. Deidara settled on a nearby stool and watched Sasori tend to the flowers.

“For a new toy?” Deidara asked simply.

The faintest of smiles curved the puppeteer’s lips upwards, and he replied with a raise of his brows. Deidara grinned, propped his elbow on the table, and rested his cheek on an upturned palm - a silent question for Sasori to elaborate.

“They’re for a poison I’m developing. If even a small amount enters the victim’s bloodstream, they fall numb and die within three painful days,” Sasori explained.

Deidara oohed with genuine curiosity. “And you’re going to rig all of your dolls with this poison once you’re done, yeah?”

Sasori nodded. Deidara continued to observe the master working his magic, paying careful attention to the movement of his hands. For such a callous individual, seeing Sasori approach something with such delicacy and precision gave Deidara a satisfying wave of inspiration. It just didn’t fit Sasori to be so gentle - and yet here he was, his wooden fingers plucking the petals ever so lightly and gathering them in a small bowl, so very different from the puppet that gutted his enemies.

Sasori took a handful of unplucked flowers and looked at Deidara, who could only stare dumbly as the redhead adorned his hair with poisonous blooms.

“Don’t worry, I’ve immunized you already to plants like these,” Sasori said calmly.

“Yeah, I know, but…” Deidara found himself at a loss for words as Sasori continued to tuck more flowers into his hair.

“Uh, Master?”

“What?”

“What exactly are you doing?”

Sasori didn’t answer his question until he felt satisfied with the amount of flowers on Deidara’s hair.

Sasori stayed as still as a statue, deep in thought. “They reminded me of you,” he said eventually.  

Deidara snorted at Sasori fondly. “Because they’re beautiful?” he teased.

Sasori’s blank expression formed into a scowl. “No.” Another pause, and then, “Because they only bloom for a moment. Their beauty is transient.”

“Like an explosion.”

Sasori rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he agreed reluctantly. 

Deidara grinned at his partner, and touched the flowers on his hair with his fingertips.

“Thank you, Master.”

Deidara noticed Sasori’s attempt at stopping himself from smiling, which obviously failed because the blonde saw right through it. Sasori scowled at Deidara’s amused reaction and turned back to his work. “Now get out.”

Wanting to get a final jab in, Deidara boldly leaned over and pressed a kiss on Sasori’s artificial cheek. Deidara skipped over to the door before Sasori could even react, feeling as light as a flower in spring.