Midnight Snack {Open}

ushirokara:

I need a shower…

He had needed one for several hours now, but hiding the arm he had cut from Backyard’s body had to be disposed of first. Then he had to abandon the car far from his apartment, discard and burn his heavily bloodstained shirt, and walk fifteen miles to get back home. Needless to say, the blood and sweat that clung to his body was intensely unwelcome, and as soon as he was safely in the confines of his own living space, he was going to scrub himself raw.

“Hmm?” Eyebrows arched, head turning to observe a rather delicious looking cake just inside a bakery window. “Oh, that looks good.” His gaze flickered down to himself, a frown pulling at his lips. He was shirtless, and if he was shirtless, he couldn’t enter the establishment. But he wanted that cake, and to walk all the way back home just to turn around and walk back was a little ridiculous, even for him.

“Excuse me—” He turned suddenly, catching the arm of the closest passerby. “If I gave you a fifty dollar bill and let you keep the change, would you buy me that cake and give it to me?”

The blond stood outside the cake shop in efforts to loose himself for a few moments, the norm would be for him to be holding a cigarette on this 10 minute break in the sun, but the bomber wasn’t about that life. Instead he replaced it with dango, the stick casually hanging out of his lips. He just let blue eyes wonder, his back leaned against the wall waiting for the his rambunctious partner, who was taking way too long. 

Suspicious eyes squinted, blinking at the strange shirtless man coming towards him. Deidara couldn’t believe this stranger was walking around without a shirt, appalled really. Snapping the stick with his teeth in frustration, jerking his hand, he flung the remains the trash next to him. 

Turning his back towards the curious raven haired man staring into the sweet shop to leave, he was called upon. An unknown hand grabbed at the blonds arm –slowly turning his head, he faced the bloody person with disgust. 

Jerking his arm away from his grasp the artist hissed, “Put on a shirt, there are kid’s around, weirdo.” Failing to mention anything abnormal about how he was drenched in blood, or if he would in fact get this weird guy his cake he so desired.