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Didn't believe him? Even though he had already poisoned him? Though he did get the brat the antidote minutes afterwards - but still. Wasn't like he knew that. The poison was just 'defective', supposedly, and that's how he'd leave that. Anyway... That train of thought was getting confusing. Sasori rolled his eyes, mildly miffed. "Really. That's your problem." Perhaps he should see if he had any nonfatal poisons on his shelves once the blond was asleep. Then inject him with a bit of it. To prove that he would poison the brat in his sleep - albeit not seriously.

He blinked slowly when the sculptor turned, hiding a somewhat mischievous smirk when the almost inaudible question was asked. Oh, ho, he heard the request quite well. But, he was feeling rather... Evil minded, at the moment. He sat up, head cocked to one side, an almost innocently curious look overtaking his features. "Could you say that louder, Deidara? I didn't quite hear you." Well, this was going to be quite interesting.

The sculptor needed help getting his trousers off. So he'd guessed right. Haa, though he was trying to be mean - he'd help. If only because one, the idiot seemed unable to do it himself, anyway, and since he had been responsible for making that stupid injury worse... Well, yeah. And, two - it would be rather... Amusing, to see just how uncomfortable he could make the brat by being fairly close again. Plus, considering the particular thing he needed help with... There were many ways to make the poor blond uncomfortable. Mentally and physically.

Deidara was far too exhausted to mess around. And he was dangerously near the end of his fuse. 'Danna,' he growled firmly through gritted teeth in a very annoyed manner. 'There're a tonne of chemicals swimming around my body and I really really really want to go to sleep. I would really appreciate it if you stopped being so…urgh.'
He put his head in his good hand. What was the word? Awkward. Yes. To him, Sasori was purposely being awkward. And if this was to carry on, this would completely result in the blond having to either rip the trousers off or sleep in them and beg his partner to help him out in the morning.
If he was still alive by morning that is.
It then occurred to the sculptor that he hadn't actually done what the red head had asked him to and repeat the question at a louder volume. With the annoyed expression still plastered on his face, he made his way over to his partner's bed and knelt down. Just in case he was planning on pretending to mishear this time around too. 'Please can you help me out of my trousers, un,' he asked in at a "normal" Deidara volume in a voice that was almost hinting something along the lines of "I'm almost ready to rip something apart. Namely something living and fleshy."
Looks like the puppet was safe there.

Sasori secretly rejoiced at how irritated he was getting Deidara, though he was outwardly apathetic once again. Hmm? He would appreciate it if he stopped being so what? ... Yeah, he would've asked, though he didn't think he'd want to know the answer. He instead shrugged, though he did sort of feel bad for the brat. See, that was part of the reason he liked being a puppet... But that was a repetitive internal rant best left for another time.

He waited for his pointless - aside for the purpose of irritating the blond - request to be answered almost patiently. Though he had several things he did want to do... Bah, maybe he should've just helped the idiot, instead. Oh, well, too late now.

The red-head watched as the annoyed-looking sculptor made his way over to his bed and knelt down, vaguely curious. Eh? He slightly smirked once more when the question was repeated in a more normal volume in a tone that, if anything, only made his smirk widen. This was proving to be mildly amusing already and he hadn't even done anything yet. "All right." He shuffled to the edge of his bed before standing, arms crossed. "Stand up, then, brat." It would be kind of difficult to help him get out of his trousers - or attempt to make him highly uncomfortable - unless he was up, afterall.

Ah, good. The awkwardness seemed to have passed. Sasori was going to help him…and it didn't look like he was going to be annoying again. The quicker this was over with the better. Following his partner's lead, Deidara exited his kneeling position and stood up, trying his best not to hide a grin.
It was at these rare moments when the two artists stood in front of each other that the blond felt like the one in control. And it was only because of one simple thing. Height difference. He imagined the red head had still only been a teenager when he had turned himself into a puppet judging by his youthful looks. Meaning that either had been tiny or he had puppetised himself before he had grown to his maximum height. He expected the latter.
He looked away slightly, blushing at the thought of the puppeteer being so close to him again…but this time it would be a lot closer. Something that the sculptor was not all too ecstatic about. Urgh, why couldn't he just sleep in those trousers? It wasn't as if it would hurt him. Heck, sleeping in the bathroom the night before had caused more damage. 'Dun call me brat, un,' he mumbled, cerulean orbs locked onto the wall and lips almost forming a pout.

The puppeteer quickly hid the smirk on his face with the usual mask of apathy. All right, so in essence, he was going to be partially stripping the blond. He wasn't experienced in that category, of course, unless one counted clothing and unclothing puppets. But it didn't seem like it would be too damn hard to do such with something - or someone - who would cooperate.

Then there was the 'how am I going to make him uncomfortable' thing. How, indeed. Heh. Thanks to those anatomy books, he wasn't a complete stranger to how the male human body worked. Plus... He had once been human. And male. Wait... That thought made it sound like he hadn't always been a guy... Right, anyway, moving along...

Sasori watched as Deidara stood, inwardly twitching. Yeah, height. It was sort of annoying, but it was all the more satisfying to be able to over-power taller people. It was something people usually didn't expect. Unless they knew a few things.

He noticed the blush, though the blond looked away slightly, then snorted at the mumbled words. "Why not? The word fits you," he pointed out, before taking a step towards the brat in question. Hmm... He reached over, hooking his thumbs in the waist of his partner's trousers and giving a sort-of experimental tug. No challenge at all.

... Though he could damn well see the button was undone and the fly was already down - well, he was trying to make the idiot feel uncomfortable, wasn't he? He slid a hand over to that particular location to 'check', 'accidentally' brushing the hand over a certain other area in the process. "You are a whiney child, after all," he added, almost too casually. Especially for him.

'It doesn't, un,' Deidara protested in response. A brat was a child, which he wasn't. A brat was spoiled, which he wasn't. A brat was annoying...well…okay, he was annoying occasionally...whatever. And a brat was impolite. Sure, he could be impolite when he wanted to, but he wasn't usually. Basically, from his point of view, the word "brat" certainly didn’t "fit him."
He looked down, curiously as to how his partner was planning on ridding him of his trousers. So he was just gunna tug them off? Hn…'spose the sculptor was capable of doing that…although it would be rather difficult. Wait…what was he doing? Blue eyes widened as the prosthetic hand ran over that certain area. He gritted his teeth, almost prepared to slap the red head. And hopefully his head would go flying across the room, perhaps landing on the floor with a loud bump leaving a nice dent on his stupid little face.
But instead of doing that, he turned back to look at the wall. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage. 'Maybe,' the sculptor muttered before shooting a glare at the puppet again. 'But at least I'm not a pervy old fart who molests his partner.' He then moved his good hand to latch onto the wooden one, moving it up slightly so it was level with his waistband. No way was he letting him violate him.
'Get on with it, Pinocchio.' Hm...that came out maybe a little bit too menacing than the blond had originally intended…phsa, whatever. The quicker this was over, the better. He didn't want to embarrass himself by getting excited.

It did too, but he'd argue the point another time. Maybe draw him a diagram of how the word brat did fit him, so he'd stop denying it.

That would be for later. Sasori chuckled inwardly at the muttered 'maybe' before twitching at just what soon came after it. Pervy old fart, was he? Who molests his partner? His left eye twitched in irritation. For one, he wasn't... Okay, he was old. But he wasn't---! ... Okay, so maybe he was almost molesting Deidara. Almost. If he had molested the blond, he would've-

No, no, bad thoughts. Thankfully he was a puppet; they were annoying, nothing 'else'. He frowned just slightly when his hand was moved back to where it should have been, before he said anything. "I was just checking to see if it was undone, idiot," he muttered, glaring back at his partner.

... And there he went with that Pinocchio thing. The puppet resisted the urge to hurt the sculptor in some way or just leave him there to struggle out of his trousers on his own, instead replying with a malicious-sounding, "Fine, Fairy-boy." Sure, it was immature as hell, but if the idiot was going to call him something, he might as well return the favour.

He returned to the task at hand, both thumbs once again hooked into the trouser's waistband. He crouched, so he'd be able to pull the damn things down all the way - a pretty awkward position, if he'd have bothered to think about it - before... Doing just that. Pulling them down. Tugging at first until they reached a place where they were actually somewhat easy to slide off.

So Deidara carried on staring at the wall. Hm. It was actually quite preoccupying, wasn't it? He could now see why the puppet spent so much time staring at it when awkward moments like this were to arise.
He almost burst out laughing at the excuse that was used. Checking to see if it was undone? Yeah, right. When pigs fly with gnomes and bumble bees riding on them. What a lame excuse. The blond was very prepared to point out that he wouldn't exactly mind if the red head decided to molest him. But denying it when he obviously was was…well…stupid. 'So you're blind too, un?' he asked in a somewhat sarcastic manner. It was pretty damn clear that his fly was undone. It wasn't as if the button and zip were invisible or anything.
It was all the more reason to suspect his partner.
"Fairy boy". Urgh. That reminded him of the amusing slash unpleasant scream fest he had had with dear sweet Hidan. Well…at least Sasori hadn't referred to the sculptor as a princess or anything super feminine like that. He whacked his partner over the head again. 'You dressed up as one too, un,' he pointed out agitatedly. In a very slutty dress too no less. Something he was certainly never going to let slide. Shame he'd forgotten to take pictures of the "delightful" sight.
Once the trousers were around his ankles, Deidara lifted one foot off the floor to shake it out, holding onto the puppeteer’s mess of red hair as balance. With one out, he then repeated the action with his second foot accidentally slipping over and landing on the floor with a bump, managing to pull his partner a little way down in the process.

So he hadn't bought the excuse? Obviously not, for he had decided to question the puppet's vision. Sasori decided not to comment on that, since it was easy enough to tell he wasn't blind - he was pretty sure it was a rhetorical question, anyway. But the sarcastic tone annoyed the hell out of him. He was so very tempted to... Either drive his nails into one of Deidara's legs, or simply tell the brat to shut up. He did neither, however, simply letting out an annoyed grunt.

He twitched when the blond had the nerve to whack him in the head. Hmph, stupid brat, lucky he could friggin' feel that... "However, I still looked partially masculine. You looked like a flat-chested woman," he muttered, monotone tone spiced with a hint of irritation. Well, it was the truth. If they'd been in public dressed like they had been, as fairies, the brat would be the one mistaken for a female the most, he was sure of it. He'd even make a bet with Kakuzu on that.

But, anyway... The puppeteer 'hn'd when he felt a hand on his head, letting go of the trousers and placing his hands on the floor to keep himself from falling over or something. Such a thing would be somewhat disastrous, given that if he lost balance, the sculptor probably would, too... Apparently, the opposite of that scenario happened, to an extent.

Red eyes widened when the blond slipped over - the red-head would've been mildly amused about his partner's clumsiness, if it hadn't been for the fact that the idiot still had his hand on his head. Thankfully he had put his hands on the floor, or he would've lost his own balance and wound up face-first on the floor - or... Somewhere else. Instead, he simply wound up on his knees, bent a little forward and head bowed slightly. Gah.

Sure, the last position had been awkward, but if anyone had the 'joy' of seeing them now, they'd definitely get the wrong damn impression. "Brat. Hand off my head. Now."

Whatever. Deidara liked making an effort in his appearance. And he quite liked looking feminine even if it usually resulted in people getting his gender confused. Surely they weren't blind and could see the lump on his neck that verified that he wasn't a woman but in fact a "slightly" girly looking dude. Well…maybe not "slightly." More like "a lot."
Anyway.
Sasori was pretty feminine too. As were a few other members of Akatsuki. But nothing compared to the blond. Eh, whatever. He was just being annoying again. Rise above it rise above it.
Although he failed in rising above it when the red heard ordered him to let go of his head. He was all too willing to oblige. Well…he had been. Before the "b word" had been lovingly added to the end of the sentence. In response the blond held a fistful of messy red hair in his hand as tightly as he possibly could, almost praying for it all to be ripped out. And just to add to that, the puppet would be able to feel every single strand being pulled from his head and then flinch at each. Although, that probably wouldn't happen.
Still, he pulled his partner's head up so cerulean eyes met with scarlet. 'I. Am. Not. A brat,' he said bitterly, trying his best to make spit fly from his mouth and land on the red head's pretty little face. 'My name is Deidara. Say it. Deidara. D.E.I.D.A.R.A. Not brat. Understand?'
At that moment in time, even though only slightly, Deidara was very prepared to kill his partner. He'd only just told him he wasn't a brat hadn't he? Urgh, so rude of him. Okay, so he wasn't really going to kill him…he was just going to carry on latching onto the puppet's hair until he was sure he had got the message.

... Why wasn't the brat not letting go of his head? If Sasori wasn't mistaken, he was holding on more tightly, instead. Deidara was damn lucky he had no physical sense of feeling. That, as well as his hair - luckily, it wasn't the sort to easily be ripped out. So he wouldn't wind up with an annoying-as-hell bald spot where the blond's hand was currently latched on. Unless he intentionally tried to pull the hair out. In which case the puppet would, to put it bluntly, beat the sculptor enough to warrant a second trip to the hospital. Or... Maybe just hit him several times. Hard.

He glared venomously into his partner's eyes when his head was pulled up. Though he could only see the spittle fly from the blond's mouth and more-than-likely land on him, just knowing it was there was enough to irk him. He was so very tempted to hit the idiot, anyway. However, he wanted the brat to let go of his hair, first. He didn't want the blond jerking his head around or anything.

Of course, he was damn well aware of what his partner's name was. He didn't need it spelled out for him. Really. If it were even possible, the intensity of his glare increased. Bah! He was not saying it, nonetheless. Instead, he smirked, fully aware that it probably wouldn't exactly be wise - but what the hell. "I understand perfectly, brat. However, your name doesn't make you any less of a brat." And this time, he placed emphasis on each 'brat' he spoke. It was tempting to spell it out, too, but... He couldn't fit it in.

All right, so he'd admit it. He liked pushing Deidara's buttons.

Hn…The puppet had obviously failed to get the message. Well…yes, he had got the message, but somehow he felt the need to carry on referring to Deidara as "brat." How ignorant. If anything he was the one behaving like a brat. It looked like he'd have to do something to get him to shut up. But what? Whilst keeping a firm grip on the red hair he started to wrack his brain out, thinking up a way to get his partner to finally stop calling him that disgusting word and maybe even stop his mean streak.
Then it came. The blond's eyes narrowed and a smirk appeared over his lips. He moved the hand that had previously been holding tightly onto his hair down and shuffled forward in order to wrap his arm around the red head's neck. He then placed his left foot on the other’s torso and began to push away from him, trying to pull the puppeteer's head off completely.
Heck, it worked for Kakuzu didn't it?
He was well aware that his partner could pull himself back together due to previous battles and things but another plan was forming in his mind to stop that from happening.
It also appeared that pulling the wooden head off was easier said than done. Was it superglued on or something? 'If you dare call me a brat again I'll fucking burn your face off, un,' the sculptor warned, moving a little to see if using a different angle would help remove Sasori’s head. Oh, how he prayed it would hurt him and be a bitch to replace later.

He was still not letting go. Just a few minutes longer and the puppet would force him to in the most painful way - for the blond - that he could think of. Oh, yes. He'd give the bratty fool a real reason to go off to the hospi--- wait, why the hell was he smirking? ... And just what the hell did he think he was doing!?

Sasori squirmed slightly due to the shift of positions, eyes widening considerably when his mind pieced together what the sculptor was going to do just seconds before said sculptor tried implementing it. Erk - thankfully his head was more strongly attached to his body than anything else, but it was still able to come off. But there was no way in hell he was just going to sit there and let Deidara pull it off. He raised both his hands up to grab the upper part of the arm around his head, gripping it as tightly as he possibly could.

Well, this was a first. Now he was thankful he couldn't feel pain. There was no doubt this would hurt a hell of a lot if he could. He inwardly cringed at the little warning, outwardly growling. If there ever was a time he almost feared the blond, this would be it. All right, fine, he wouldn't call the idiot a brat anymore - he winced as he heard something in his neck snap when his partner shifted to try pulling his head off at a different angle. Not good. Definitely not good. It would only be a matter of time before the idiot succeeded in his little task.

... Fuck it. Drastic times called for drastic measures, did they not? "Let. Go," the red-head managed to mutter, words venomous rather than monotone, for once. He spread his blade-wings threateningly off to the sides, careful not to get the blond with them - yet, anyway. The cable in place of his stomach shifted almost restlessly. He was not going to let the brat damage him again.

Deidara was actually quite serious about trying to pull his head off, wasn't he? Then again, that much could've been discerned when he'd initiated the damn attempt in the first place. Though he was damn well determined not to let the idiot succeed. Who the hell knew what he'd do if he did? He had just threatened him, just not even a short moment ago, though that was for if he decided to call the idiot the 'b'-word again. And he was almost tempted to.

Actually, he'd make it a point to once he got out of this friggin' mess, assuming he hadn't 'pulled a Hidan', so to speak. The blond's renewed pushing, pulling and continuous changing of angles was, actually, working. Another rather loud snap could be easily heard as another attachment gave way. Eugh. Just one good yank was all it would take now, he was sure of it...

His grip on his partner's upper arm increased at the near-taunting words. Hmph. As fucking if. Maybe he'd use the word a little less, but he'd still use it. The puppet noticed the arm around his neck to loosen quite a bit - though not enough to pull himself free of the idiot, it was a start. "Hn..." He moved his blade-wings forward quickly and accurately, the blades on each spreading in a readying manner and, for non-living, sharp lengths of metal, looking quite anxious to tear into the sculptor's flesh.

All right. Sasori wasn't, if it came down to it, going to seriously harm the blond. Scare him a bit, cut him up a little, make him bleed enough to warrant the need to use bandages? Yes. Cut him up into itty-bitty pieces and give baggies of Dei-Bits to Zetsu for lunch the next day? No. "Let go now and I won't be forced to dismember you limb-from-limb, Deidara." There. He said the idiot's name instead of 'brat'. The stomach cable joined the duo of readied weapons, snaking out and slipping off to one side, as if it were getting prepared to wrap around the blond at any given moment.

It was decided. If Deidara succeeded in completely removing Sasori head he would cover every inch of it in a moderately thick layer of clay and then put it somewhere for a while. Say, the fridge? That would cause the clay to harden quicker and cause a little bit more annoyance to the puppet. And then he'd shove the wooden body in Tobi's bed, assuming he wasn't already asleep.
Hm…sleep. Okay, once that was all done, he'd go to bed.
That was if he succeeded. And judging by the loss of feeling in his arm, it didn't look like that was going to be the case. The blond could already feel the sharp and unpleasant feel of pins and needles making it's way through the lower part of his arm.
Actually, maybe he would. That snap sounded quite encouraging. Just one more pull and it would hopefully be off.
The grip loosened a lot more as the red head moved the blade like wings. Almost enough for his partner to wriggle away. Almost. His head wasn’t that small, surely.
Okay, the sculptor was worried that the puppeteer would end up hurting him again. Perhaps not knocking him out this time around. He was tired and didn't want to spend his time dressing yet another injury. He bit his lip at the threat. He wouldn't do that, would he? Well…he had poisoned him a few hours ago, so why wouldn't he? And with that, he let go, not really noticing that he had been referred to as "Deidara" instead of that sweet word that was "brat."
'Next time I will rip your head off,' he warned, shuffling away, flexing his hand, trying to get the blood flow normal again.
Hm…How close was it to falling off?
To check, Deidara grabbed the pillow off his partner's bed and chucked it at him, hoping his head would just fall off like a bowling ball being thrown at a skittle.

After this, if he still had his head, he was both going to call the brat a brat again, and poison him in his sleep. With one of his really damn unpleasant, albeit non-fatal poisons. This time. Screw the fact the blond's bloodstream was already swimming with different chemicals - they'd possibly only make the result even worse! Which would be a plus. At least, for the puppet.

He inwardly smirked when he felt Deidara's grip loosen even more after he'd moved his blade-wings. Almost, almost, almost. Just a little more... He paused in pondering what he could do to make the sculptor's grip loosen enough so he could slip away when the blond let go after the red-head's little threat. He released the idiot's arm seconds after, hand immediately going to his head as he watched his partner shuffle away out of the corner of his eye.

Well, this sucked. He couldn't move his head. Apparently, he'd have to do some repairs before he did anything else that night... Hmph. It sounded like two of the attachments had let go, so it wouldn't take too long. At least it hadn't been all three... "Next time I'll see how much blood I can make you can lose before you pass out," he snapped back at the warning. "Then I'll add you to my collection." Yeah, he just had to use that as a threat. Puppetisation. Why not? It was always a danger if one was good-looking - or at least strong, with good techniques - and around the puppeteer. Especially when he was mad.

Just to irk the blond further, Sasori started to say the 'b'-word, getting as far as "Br-" when something collided with his head. A fucking pillow?! Nonetheless, the jolt resulted in another loud snap that could be heard as the head finally came loose. It would've fallen onto the floor had the living puppet not had his hand to it - he caught it before it fell.

Unlike Hidan, his body stayed mobile and 'alive' in such a situation. Given that was where his only human part was. He sat in shocked stillness for a moment before making a rather obscene gesture in the general direction of the blond. Luckily he knew where everything in the room was as well as how to repair himself blindfolded if need be. Plus, he could always just pull himself back together using chakra. But with his luck, the attachments would need a little manual touching-up. Eugh. Stupid brat...

Deidara wasn’t too sure to make a smart comeback to that comment. He could but that would possibly make the experience (if it would actually happen) a whole lot worse. Plus, he was tired and didn’t really want to get into another argument and evidently, end up sleeping in the bathroom for the second night running. Something he didn’t really want. He liked his bed and didn’t like the rather uncomfortable pain in the back of his neck sleeping against that horrible tiled wall brought about.
At that moment in time, just after the pillow had been thrown he was more interested in what had been hiding under the pillow. That fairytale book again? The blond giggled, but it was cut short when the beginning of that awful word was. Argh, fuck it, he was going to rip Sasori’s head clean off his shoulders and chuck it out of the window into the muddy mess that lay below and-
Apparently he didn’t need to do that. The pillow thing had actually done some damage! The sculptor almost cheered, but instead burst into a fit of giggles at his beheaded partner. ‘You look like the Headless Horseman, un!’ he laughed.
Well, it looked like the job was done, didn’t it? There was no need to carry on seeing as the red head’s head was finally off. Might as well wait until next time. He was tired and wanted to get ready for bed. Deidara moved over to his bed and picked up his oversized blue t-shirt, slipping it over his shoulders and smoothing it down slightly. Feh…it was all creased…he’d get that sorted out eventually. He then headed for the bedroom door, turning the doorknob and exiting the bedroom, still giggling away.
Luckily, the bathroom was empty. Meaning he was able to brush his teeth and do whatever other tasks he wanted without anyone else in the room. He’d have to get used to only using one arm if it was going to be in a cast for a long period of time.
Deidara then went back to the bedroom, flopping onto his bed. ‘I’m going to sleep now, un,’ he announced, even though it would most probably go unheard or…the puppet probably wouldn’t really care.

Description
Didn't believe him? Even though he had already poisoned him? Though he did get the brat the antidote minutes afterwards - but still. Wasn't like he knew that. The poison was just 'defective', supposedly, and that's how he'd leave that. Anyway... That train of thought was getting confusing. Sasori rolled his eyes, mildly miffed. "Really. That's your problem." Perhaps he should see if he had any nonfatal poisons on his shelves once the blond was asleep. Then inject him with a bit of it. To prove that he would poison the brat in his sleep - albeit not seriously.

He blinked slowly when the sculptor turned, hiding a somewhat mischievous smirk when the almost inaudible question was asked. Oh, ho, he heard the request quite well. But, he was feeling rather... Evil minded, at the moment. He sat up, head cocked to one side, an almost innocently curious look overtaking his features. "Could you say that louder, Deidara? I didn't quite hear you." Well, this was going to be quite interesting.

The sculptor needed help getting his trousers off. So he'd guessed right. Haa, though he was trying to be mean - he'd help. If only because one, the idiot seemed unable to do it himself, anyway, and since he had been responsible for making that stupid injury worse... Well, yeah. And, two - it would be rather... Amusing, to see just how uncomfortable he could make the brat by being fairly close again. Plus, considering the particular thing he needed help with... There were many ways to make the poor blond uncomfortable. Mentally and physically.

Deidara was far too exhausted to mess around. And he was dangerously near the end of his fuse. 'Danna,' he growled firmly through gritted teeth in a very annoyed manner. 'There're a tonne of chemicals swimming around my body and I really really really want to go to sleep. I would really appreciate it if you stopped being so…urgh.'
He put his head in his good hand. What was the word? Awkward. Yes. To him, Sasori was purposely being awkward. And if this was to carry on, this would completely result in the blond having to either rip the trousers off or sleep in them and beg his partner to help him out in the morning.
If he was still alive by morning that is.
It then occurred to the sculptor that he hadn't actually done what the red head had asked him to and repeat the question at a louder volume. With the annoyed expression still plastered on his face, he made his way over to his partner's bed and knelt down. Just in case he was planning on pretending to mishear this time around too. 'Please can you help me out of my trousers, un,' he asked in at a "normal" Deidara volume in a voice that was almost hinting something along the lines of "I'm almost ready to rip something apart. Namely something living and fleshy."
Looks like the puppet was safe there.

Sasori secretly rejoiced at how irritated he was getting Deidara, though he was outwardly apathetic once again. Hmm? He would appreciate it if he stopped being so what? ... Yeah, he would've asked, though he didn't think he'd want to know the answer. He instead shrugged, though he did sort of feel bad for the brat. See, that was part of the reason he liked being a puppet... But that was a repetitive internal rant best left for another time.

He waited for his pointless - aside for the purpose of irritating the blond - request to be answered almost patiently. Though he had several things he did want to do... Bah, maybe he should've just helped the idiot, instead. Oh, well, too late now.

The red-head watched as the annoyed-looking sculptor made his way over to his bed and knelt down, vaguely curious. Eh? He slightly smirked once more when the question was repeated in a more normal volume in a tone that, if anything, only made his smirk widen. This was proving to be mildly amusing already and he hadn't even done anything yet. "All right." He shuffled to the edge of his bed before standing, arms crossed. "Stand up, then, brat." It would be kind of difficult to help him get out of his trousers - or attempt to make him highly uncomfortable - unless he was up, afterall.

Ah, good. The awkwardness seemed to have passed. Sasori was going to help him…and it didn't look like he was going to be annoying again. The quicker this was over with the better. Following his partner's lead, Deidara exited his kneeling position and stood up, trying his best not to hide a grin.
It was at these rare moments when the two artists stood in front of each other that the blond felt like the one in control. And it was only because of one simple thing. Height difference. He imagined the red head had still only been a teenager when he had turned himself into a puppet judging by his youthful looks. Meaning that either had been tiny or he had puppetised himself before he had grown to his maximum height. He expected the latter.
He looked away slightly, blushing at the thought of the puppeteer being so close to him again…but this time it would be a lot closer. Something that the sculptor was not all too ecstatic about. Urgh, why couldn't he just sleep in those trousers? It wasn't as if it would hurt him. Heck, sleeping in the bathroom the night before had caused more damage. 'Dun call me brat, un,' he mumbled, cerulean orbs locked onto the wall and lips almost forming a pout.

The puppeteer quickly hid the smirk on his face with the usual mask of apathy. All right, so in essence, he was going to be partially stripping the blond. He wasn't experienced in that category, of course, unless one counted clothing and unclothing puppets. But it didn't seem like it would be too damn hard to do such with something - or someone - who would cooperate.

Then there was the 'how am I going to make him uncomfortable' thing. How, indeed. Heh. Thanks to those anatomy books, he wasn't a complete stranger to how the male human body worked. Plus... He had once been human. And male. Wait... That thought made it sound like he hadn't always been a guy... Right, anyway, moving along...

Sasori watched as Deidara stood, inwardly twitching. Yeah, height. It was sort of annoying, but it was all the more satisfying to be able to over-power taller people. It was something people usually didn't expect. Unless they knew a few things.

He noticed the blush, though the blond looked away slightly, then snorted at the mumbled words. "Why not? The word fits you," he pointed out, before taking a step towards the brat in question. Hmm... He reached over, hooking his thumbs in the waist of his partner's trousers and giving a sort-of experimental tug. No challenge at all.

... Though he could damn well see the button was undone and the fly was already down - well, he was trying to make the idiot feel uncomfortable, wasn't he? He slid a hand over to that particular location to 'check', 'accidentally' brushing the hand over a certain other area in the process. "You are a whiney child, after all," he added, almost too casually. Especially for him.

'It doesn't, un,' Deidara protested in response. A brat was a child, which he wasn't. A brat was spoiled, which he wasn't. A brat was annoying...well…okay, he was annoying occasionally...whatever. And a brat was impolite. Sure, he could be impolite when he wanted to, but he wasn't usually. Basically, from his point of view, the word "brat" certainly didn’t "fit him."
He looked down, curiously as to how his partner was planning on ridding him of his trousers. So he was just gunna tug them off? Hn…'spose the sculptor was capable of doing that…although it would be rather difficult. Wait…what was he doing? Blue eyes widened as the prosthetic hand ran over that certain area. He gritted his teeth, almost prepared to slap the red head. And hopefully his head would go flying across the room, perhaps landing on the floor with a loud bump leaving a nice dent on his stupid little face.
But instead of doing that, he turned back to look at the wall. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage. 'Maybe,' the sculptor muttered before shooting a glare at the puppet again. 'But at least I'm not a pervy old fart who molests his partner.' He then moved his good hand to latch onto the wooden one, moving it up slightly so it was level with his waistband. No way was he letting him violate him.
'Get on with it, Pinocchio.' Hm...that came out maybe a little bit too menacing than the blond had originally intended…phsa, whatever. The quicker this was over, the better. He didn't want to embarrass himself by getting excited.

It did too, but he'd argue the point another time. Maybe draw him a diagram of how the word brat did fit him, so he'd stop denying it.

That would be for later. Sasori chuckled inwardly at the muttered 'maybe' before twitching at just what soon came after it. Pervy old fart, was he? Who molests his partner? His left eye twitched in irritation. For one, he wasn't... Okay, he was old. But he wasn't---! ... Okay, so maybe he was almost molesting Deidara. Almost. If he had molested the blond, he would've-

No, no, bad thoughts. Thankfully he was a puppet; they were annoying, nothing 'else'. He frowned just slightly when his hand was moved back to where it should have been, before he said anything. "I was just checking to see if it was undone, idiot," he muttered, glaring back at his partner.

... And there he went with that Pinocchio thing. The puppet resisted the urge to hurt the sculptor in some way or just leave him there to struggle out of his trousers on his own, instead replying with a malicious-sounding, "Fine, Fairy-boy." Sure, it was immature as hell, but if the idiot was going to call him something, he might as well return the favour.

He returned to the task at hand, both thumbs once again hooked into the trouser's waistband. He crouched, so he'd be able to pull the damn things down all the way - a pretty awkward position, if he'd have bothered to think about it - before... Doing just that. Pulling them down. Tugging at first until they reached a place where they were actually somewhat easy to slide off.

So Deidara carried on staring at the wall. Hm. It was actually quite preoccupying, wasn't it? He could now see why the puppet spent so much time staring at it when awkward moments like this were to arise.
He almost burst out laughing at the excuse that was used. Checking to see if it was undone? Yeah, right. When pigs fly with gnomes and bumble bees riding on them. What a lame excuse. The blond was very prepared to point out that he wouldn't exactly mind if the red head decided to molest him. But denying it when he obviously was was…well…stupid. 'So you're blind too, un?' he asked in a somewhat sarcastic manner. It was pretty damn clear that his fly was undone. It wasn't as if the button and zip were invisible or anything.
It was all the more reason to suspect his partner.
"Fairy boy". Urgh. That reminded him of the amusing slash unpleasant scream fest he had had with dear sweet Hidan. Well…at least Sasori hadn't referred to the sculptor as a princess or anything super feminine like that. He whacked his partner over the head again. 'You dressed up as one too, un,' he pointed out agitatedly. In a very slutty dress too no less. Something he was certainly never going to let slide. Shame he'd forgotten to take pictures of the "delightful" sight.
Once the trousers were around his ankles, Deidara lifted one foot off the floor to shake it out, holding onto the puppeteer’s mess of red hair as balance. With one out, he then repeated the action with his second foot accidentally slipping over and landing on the floor with a bump, managing to pull his partner a little way down in the process.

So he hadn't bought the excuse? Obviously not, for he had decided to question the puppet's vision. Sasori decided not to comment on that, since it was easy enough to tell he wasn't blind - he was pretty sure it was a rhetorical question, anyway. But the sarcastic tone annoyed the hell out of him. He was so very tempted to... Either drive his nails into one of Deidara's legs, or simply tell the brat to shut up. He did neither, however, simply letting out an annoyed grunt.

He twitched when the blond had the nerve to whack him in the head. Hmph, stupid brat, lucky he could friggin' feel that... "However, I still looked partially masculine. You looked like a flat-chested woman," he muttered, monotone tone spiced with a hint of irritation. Well, it was the truth. If they'd been in public dressed like they had been, as fairies, the brat would be the one mistaken for a female the most, he was sure of it. He'd even make a bet with Kakuzu on that.

But, anyway... The puppeteer 'hn'd when he felt a hand on his head, letting go of the trousers and placing his hands on the floor to keep himself from falling over or something. Such a thing would be somewhat disastrous, given that if he lost balance, the sculptor probably would, too... Apparently, the opposite of that scenario happened, to an extent.

Red eyes widened when the blond slipped over - the red-head would've been mildly amused about his partner's clumsiness, if it hadn't been for the fact that the idiot still had his hand on his head. Thankfully he had put his hands on the floor, or he would've lost his own balance and wound up face-first on the floor - or... Somewhere else. Instead, he simply wound up on his knees, bent a little forward and head bowed slightly. Gah.

Sure, the last position had been awkward, but if anyone had the 'joy' of seeing them now, they'd definitely get the wrong damn impression. "Brat. Hand off my head. Now."

Whatever. Deidara liked making an effort in his appearance. And he quite liked looking feminine even if it usually resulted in people getting his gender confused. Surely they weren't blind and could see the lump on his neck that verified that he wasn't a woman but in fact a "slightly" girly looking dude. Well…maybe not "slightly." More like "a lot."
Anyway.
Sasori was pretty feminine too. As were a few other members of Akatsuki. But nothing compared to the blond. Eh, whatever. He was just being annoying again. Rise above it rise above it.
Although he failed in rising above it when the red heard ordered him to let go of his head. He was all too willing to oblige. Well…he had been. Before the "b word" had been lovingly added to the end of the sentence. In response the blond held a fistful of messy red hair in his hand as tightly as he possibly could, almost praying for it all to be ripped out. And just to add to that, the puppet would be able to feel every single strand being pulled from his head and then flinch at each. Although, that probably wouldn't happen.
Still, he pulled his partner's head up so cerulean eyes met with scarlet. 'I. Am. Not. A brat,' he said bitterly, trying his best to make spit fly from his mouth and land on the red head's pretty little face. 'My name is Deidara. Say it. Deidara. D.E.I.D.A.R.A. Not brat. Understand?'
At that moment in time, even though only slightly, Deidara was very prepared to kill his partner. He'd only just told him he wasn't a brat hadn't he? Urgh, so rude of him. Okay, so he wasn't really going to kill him…he was just going to carry on latching onto the puppet's hair until he was sure he had got the message.

... Why wasn't the brat not letting go of his head? If Sasori wasn't mistaken, he was holding on more tightly, instead. Deidara was damn lucky he had no physical sense of feeling. That, as well as his hair - luckily, it wasn't the sort to easily be ripped out. So he wouldn't wind up with an annoying-as-hell bald spot where the blond's hand was currently latched on. Unless he intentionally tried to pull the hair out. In which case the puppet would, to put it bluntly, beat the sculptor enough to warrant a second trip to the hospital. Or... Maybe just hit him several times. Hard.

He glared venomously into his partner's eyes when his head was pulled up. Though he could only see the spittle fly from the blond's mouth and more-than-likely land on him, just knowing it was there was enough to irk him. He was so very tempted to hit the idiot, anyway. However, he wanted the brat to let go of his hair, first. He didn't want the blond jerking his head around or anything.

Of course, he was damn well aware of what his partner's name was. He didn't need it spelled out for him. Really. If it were even possible, the intensity of his glare increased. Bah! He was not saying it, nonetheless. Instead, he smirked, fully aware that it probably wouldn't exactly be wise - but what the hell. "I understand perfectly, brat. However, your name doesn't make you any less of a brat." And this time, he placed emphasis on each 'brat' he spoke. It was tempting to spell it out, too, but... He couldn't fit it in.

All right, so he'd admit it. He liked pushing Deidara's buttons.

Hn…The puppet had obviously failed to get the message. Well…yes, he had got the message, but somehow he felt the need to carry on referring to Deidara as "brat." How ignorant. If anything he was the one behaving like a brat. It looked like he'd have to do something to get him to shut up. But what? Whilst keeping a firm grip on the red hair he started to wrack his brain out, thinking up a way to get his partner to finally stop calling him that disgusting word and maybe even stop his mean streak.
Then it came. The blond's eyes narrowed and a smirk appeared over his lips. He moved the hand that had previously been holding tightly onto his hair down and shuffled forward in order to wrap his arm around the red head's neck. He then placed his left foot on the other’s torso and began to push away from him, trying to pull the puppeteer's head off completely.
Heck, it worked for Kakuzu didn't it?
He was well aware that his partner could pull himself back together due to previous battles and things but another plan was forming in his mind to stop that from happening.
It also appeared that pulling the wooden head off was easier said than done. Was it superglued on or something? 'If you dare call me a brat again I'll fucking burn your face off, un,' the sculptor warned, moving a little to see if using a different angle would help remove Sasori’s head. Oh, how he prayed it would hurt him and be a bitch to replace later.

He was still not letting go. Just a few minutes longer and the puppet would force him to in the most painful way - for the blond - that he could think of. Oh, yes. He'd give the bratty fool a real reason to go off to the hospi--- wait, why the hell was he smirking? ... And just what the hell did he think he was doing!?

Sasori squirmed slightly due to the shift of positions, eyes widening considerably when his mind pieced together what the sculptor was going to do just seconds before said sculptor tried implementing it. Erk - thankfully his head was more strongly attached to his body than anything else, but it was still able to come off. But there was no way in hell he was just going to sit there and let Deidara pull it off. He raised both his hands up to grab the upper part of the arm around his head, gripping it as tightly as he possibly could.

Well, this was a first. Now he was thankful he couldn't feel pain. There was no doubt this would hurt a hell of a lot if he could. He inwardly cringed at the little warning, outwardly growling. If there ever was a time he almost feared the blond, this would be it. All right, fine, he wouldn't call the idiot a brat anymore - he winced as he heard something in his neck snap when his partner shifted to try pulling his head off at a different angle. Not good. Definitely not good. It would only be a matter of time before the idiot succeeded in his little task.

... Fuck it. Drastic times called for drastic measures, did they not? "Let. Go," the red-head managed to mutter, words venomous rather than monotone, for once. He spread his blade-wings threateningly off to the sides, careful not to get the blond with them - yet, anyway. The cable in place of his stomach shifted almost restlessly. He was not going to let the brat damage him again.

Deidara was actually quite serious about trying to pull his head off, wasn't he? Then again, that much could've been discerned when he'd initiated the damn attempt in the first place. Though he was damn well determined not to let the idiot succeed. Who the hell knew what he'd do if he did? He had just threatened him, just not even a short moment ago, though that was for if he decided to call the idiot the 'b'-word again. And he was almost tempted to.

Actually, he'd make it a point to once he got out of this friggin' mess, assuming he hadn't 'pulled a Hidan', so to speak. The blond's renewed pushing, pulling and continuous changing of angles was, actually, working. Another rather loud snap could be easily heard as another attachment gave way. Eugh. Just one good yank was all it would take now, he was sure of it...

His grip on his partner's upper arm increased at the near-taunting words. Hmph. As fucking if. Maybe he'd use the word a little less, but he'd still use it. The puppet noticed the arm around his neck to loosen quite a bit - though not enough to pull himself free of the idiot, it was a start. "Hn..." He moved his blade-wings forward quickly and accurately, the blades on each spreading in a readying manner and, for non-living, sharp lengths of metal, looking quite anxious to tear into the sculptor's flesh.

All right. Sasori wasn't, if it came down to it, going to seriously harm the blond. Scare him a bit, cut him up a little, make him bleed enough to warrant the need to use bandages? Yes. Cut him up into itty-bitty pieces and give baggies of Dei-Bits to Zetsu for lunch the next day? No. "Let go now and I won't be forced to dismember you limb-from-limb, Deidara." There. He said the idiot's name instead of 'brat'. The stomach cable joined the duo of readied weapons, snaking out and slipping off to one side, as if it were getting prepared to wrap around the blond at any given moment.

It was decided. If Deidara succeeded in completely removing Sasori head he would cover every inch of it in a moderately thick layer of clay and then put it somewhere for a while. Say, the fridge? That would cause the clay to harden quicker and cause a little bit more annoyance to the puppet. And then he'd shove the wooden body in Tobi's bed, assuming he wasn't already asleep.
Hm…sleep. Okay, once that was all done, he'd go to bed.
That was if he succeeded. And judging by the loss of feeling in his arm, it didn't look like that was going to be the case. The blond could already feel the sharp and unpleasant feel of pins and needles making it's way through the lower part of his arm.
Actually, maybe he would. That snap sounded quite encouraging. Just one more pull and it would hopefully be off.
The grip loosened a lot more as the red head moved the blade like wings. Almost enough for his partner to wriggle away. Almost. His head wasn’t that small, surely.
Okay, the sculptor was worried that the puppeteer would end up hurting him again. Perhaps not knocking him out this time around. He was tired and didn't want to spend his time dressing yet another injury. He bit his lip at the threat. He wouldn't do that, would he? Well…he had poisoned him a few hours ago, so why wouldn't he? And with that, he let go, not really noticing that he had been referred to as "Deidara" instead of that sweet word that was "brat."
'Next time I will rip your head off,' he warned, shuffling away, flexing his hand, trying to get the blood flow normal again.
Hm…How close was it to falling off?
To check, Deidara grabbed the pillow off his partner's bed and chucked it at him, hoping his head would just fall off like a bowling ball being thrown at a skittle.

After this, if he still had his head, he was both going to call the brat a brat again, and poison him in his sleep. With one of his really damn unpleasant, albeit non-fatal poisons. This time. Screw the fact the blond's bloodstream was already swimming with different chemicals - they'd possibly only make the result even worse! Which would be a plus. At least, for the puppet.

He inwardly smirked when he felt Deidara's grip loosen even more after he'd moved his blade-wings. Almost, almost, almost. Just a little more... He paused in pondering what he could do to make the sculptor's grip loosen enough so he could slip away when the blond let go after the red-head's little threat. He released the idiot's arm seconds after, hand immediately going to his head as he watched his partner shuffle away out of the corner of his eye.

Well, this sucked. He couldn't move his head. Apparently, he'd have to do some repairs before he did anything else that night... Hmph. It sounded like two of the attachments had let go, so it wouldn't take too long. At least it hadn't been all three... "Next time I'll see how much blood I can make you can lose before you pass out," he snapped back at the warning. "Then I'll add you to my collection." Yeah, he just had to use that as a threat. Puppetisation. Why not? It was always a danger if one was good-looking - or at least strong, with good techniques - and around the puppeteer. Especially when he was mad.

Just to irk the blond further, Sasori started to say the 'b'-word, getting as far as "Br-" when something collided with his head. A fucking pillow?! Nonetheless, the jolt resulted in another loud snap that could be heard as the head finally came loose. It would've fallen onto the floor had the living puppet not had his hand to it - he caught it before it fell.

Unlike Hidan, his body stayed mobile and 'alive' in such a situation. Given that was where his only human part was. He sat in shocked stillness for a moment before making a rather obscene gesture in the general direction of the blond. Luckily he knew where everything in the room was as well as how to repair himself blindfolded if need be. Plus, he could always just pull himself back together using chakra. But with his luck, the attachments would need a little manual touching-up. Eugh. Stupid brat...

Deidara wasn’t too sure to make a smart comeback to that comment. He could but that would possibly make the experience (if it would actually happen) a whole lot worse. Plus, he was tired and didn’t really want to get into another argument and evidently, end up sleeping in the bathroom for the second night running. Something he didn’t really want. He liked his bed and didn’t like the rather uncomfortable pain in the back of his neck sleeping against that horrible tiled wall brought about.
At that moment in time, just after the pillow had been thrown he was more interested in what had been hiding under the pillow. That fairytale book again? The blond giggled, but it was cut short when the beginning of that awful word was. Argh, fuck it, he was going to rip Sasori’s head clean off his shoulders and chuck it out of the window into the muddy mess that lay below and-
Apparently he didn’t need to do that. The pillow thing had actually done some damage! The sculptor almost cheered, but instead burst into a fit of giggles at his beheaded partner. ‘You look like the Headless Horseman, un!’ he laughed.
Well, it looked like the job was done, didn’t it? There was no need to carry on seeing as the red head’s head was finally off. Might as well wait until next time. He was tired and wanted to get ready for bed. Deidara moved over to his bed and picked up his oversized blue t-shirt, slipping it over his shoulders and smoothing it down slightly. Feh…it was all creased…he’d get that sorted out eventually. He then headed for the bedroom door, turning the doorknob and exiting the bedroom, still giggling away.
Luckily, the bathroom was empty. Meaning he was able to brush his teeth and do whatever other tasks he wanted without anyone else in the room. He’d have to get used to only using one arm if it was going to be in a cast for a long period of time.
Deidara then went back to the bedroom, flopping onto his bed. ‘I’m going to sleep now, un,’ he announced, even though it would most probably go unheard or…the puppet probably wouldn’t really care.