#Crows mirrored so headband is wrong rip

[njikeartist]

5ds chibis from 2021

[raendown]

Deidara/Itachi

I set out to write the latest chapter of my Soulmate Collection thinking I didn’t ship this pairing. 

I still don’t really but I fell in love with this story anyway because I giggled the entire way through writing it. 

Pairing: Deidara/Itachi Soulmate AU: The one where any lie that you tell your soulmate appears on their skin

A small bell somewhere out of sight chimed delicately when he pushed the door open. Deidara had never been here before but he had more than one friend who swore that he would love it. Seeing as his last hairdresser had banned him from ever entering the premises again he figured now was as good a time as any to try the infamous Uchiha salon. He hoped that this new place wasn’t picky about people setting off firecrackers.

His first impression was that it was very clean. Everything was in its place and the floor was meticulously clear of any debris except for where a young woman was receiving a trim. The décor was pleasant without being brash, although he preferred louder colors himself. It didn’t look too bad in here. The working hairdressers even appeared competent.

He made his way over to the reception desk, where someone with long hair pulled in to a low ponytail was bent over a scheduling book, and rapped his knuckles on the counter. When the employee lifted their head he was forced to make a poor recovery from pulling a shocked face. This man was gorgeous! His black hair nearly matched his eyes, which were framed with long sooty lashes and set above pronounced tear troughs. His nose was delicate and his mouth almost dainty. It was a face that looked only moments away from raising a thin eyebrow at you. Deidara nearly chocked on his tongue trying to speak.

“I just need a wash and a trim, un.” He scowled when his voice came out sounding defensive. “Looking for a new hairdresser. The last place was full of idiots.”

He had to bite down on the inside of his cheek when the gorgeous employee behind the desk really did raise an eyebrow. The black haired man looked up at Deidara’s blonde nest and simply studied him in silence for a minute. He scowled again, feeling self-conscious. Just as he was about to open his mouth and say something offensive he was cut off.

“You would be Deidara, I presume. Kisame told me that he had convinced you to come here.” That voice! It was low and smooth. The really attractive part, however, was the quiet confidence hiding there. Deidara fought back a swoon and grunted inelegantly.

“He wasn’t much help in the convincing but whatever,” he said. “Can we get this going or not?”

His question was met with a single nod before the man stood up from behind the desk and led him towards one of the chairs at the wash station. Deidara took a seat where indicated, flopping down facing away from a pristine ceramic sink and leaning his neck on the edge. The employee washed his hair in silence, long fingers massaging various products in to his scalp in such a manner that he was hard pressed to hold in a few moans.  The last hairdresser he had used had been brusque and rough during this step and he’d always worried about having his precious hair pulled out.

After he was properly washed and conditioned Deidara allowed himself to be led to a seat in front of a large mirror. He straightened his back so a dark cape could be settled round his neck before slumping back down in to his usual posture. Then his chair was turned so the man from the desk could run fingers through his hair, no expression on his face but with a contemplative look in his eye. Deidara waited in silence, feeling almost as if he were auditioning for something. After a while the silence started to get to him. He had always hated long bouts without talking.

“So,” he said awkwardly. “I guess you would be the ‘friend’ Kisame has here then. Obviously. You got a name?” Fingers paused in the act of running through his damp locks and the man’s dark eyes fixed on his, making him gulp.

“Itachi,” the man said. Deidara nodded. Itachi held his head still so that he could continue deliberating over the hair he was going to cut.

Deidara was a little relieved when his chair was spun about again so that he faced the mirror. Those eyes were super intense and he felt stripped bare under their gaze. His hands came out from under his cape to fiddle with each other as he watched his hair being inspected from yet another angle. It went on for several more minutes before he grew frustrated.

“You’re just doing a trim, un! What’s the big deal? Is there something wrong with my hair?” Anyone who claimed he was pouting would receive a very loud rebuttal and a punch to the face. He did have to stop himself from crossing his arms though. Itachi met his eyes in the mirror and hesitated from the briefest of moments before replying.

“No, it’s fine.”

Deidara could almost have believed him – almost – if he hadn’t flinched at the sudden burn on the back of his right hand. He looked down to see the three words which had just been spoken to him standing out against his skin in stark black letters. Both men stared at the writing as it slowly faded away. They met each other’s gaze again, stunned, and silence ruled at first.

“You lied!” Deidara burst out. “You said my hair was fine but you lied! What’s wrong with my hair, eh?”

Done dark eyebrow rose up as Itachi bluntly told him, “It’s shapeless. I could so much more with it. Something that would better suit your face.”

“I don’t like high maintenance stuff so nothing fancy, you hear?” He’d always liked his hair, it was a nice color and naturally soft and silky, but that didn’t mean he liked spending the time to actually do anything with it. Itachi nodded.

“Trust me,” he said.

Deidara looked down at his hand, at the spot where the words had appeared, and mumbled a quiet, “Yeah.”

He let Itachi work without paying much attention, his mind on other things. Things like the fact that he had just found his soulmate working at Uchiha Fab Cuts, of all places. He managed to zone out entirely as scissors snipped away a few inches, a blow drier whirred next to his ear, and fingers tugged a layer up and away, sculpting and shaping. At long last a hand squeezed his shoulder to get his attention. When he looked up he had to blink to check and see if it was really him.

Most of his hair had been left down, falling only a few inches past his shoulders now. Some of it had been pulled up in to a high ponytail that fell wide and covered the back of his head. He also had a large section of fringe hanging down one side of his face that, if he tilted just right, he could use to hide one eye in a mysterious cool-guy way. As he admired the style and how low effort it would be to maintain, a thin blue headband slid down over the top of his head. He blinked and looked over his shoulder at Itachi.

“To match your eyes,” Itachi explained. Deidara blinked at him.

“Well?’ he demanded. “What do you think? I look fine now?” He waited while the other man gave him a deliberate once over.

“Nope. I think you look awful.” Itachi, it appeared, was the master of deadpan. Deidara had less than a second to bristle before his left arm flared up with a sudden burn. He freed more of his limb from the protective cape to reveal words scrawled on his skin just above his elbow. They said ‘I think you look awful’ in dark letters, giving him just enough time to grin before fading away. The grin was still in place when he ripped the cape off of his own neck and leapt from the chair.

“Yeah, I think you look awful too!” he crowed. Itachi made a tiny little jump and pressed a hand against his hip but he wasn’t able to look.

He was a bit busy with an armful of Deidara, enthusiastic kisses raining across his face.