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“My parents used to hug me all the time,” he once told Hidan, when they were still teens. “I was only four. Whenever they came home, they would immediately hug me, and whenever they were done, I would always demand more.”
Hidan had laughed. “More, huh?” He pulled Sasori close to him. They were only fourteen, and the redhead had hit his growth spurt before Hidan. (His last growth spurt, as Sasori was annoyed to find out later). “I’ll hug you all the time. Forever, if you want.”
“Really.” Sasori raised an unimpressed brow.
“Really really. And when we grow up, I’ll do more than hug you, I’ll even—FUCK!” Hidan doubled over as Sasori elbowed him in the ribs.
“Idiot,” he hissed, blushing ever so cutely. “Don’t talk about these things in public!”
“Talk…talk…about wha…t?” Hidan wheezed. “I was…just gon…gonna kiss you. Shit. You hit too damn hard, dollface. Unless…” He wiggled his eyebrows weakly, “You wanna do more?” He jumped back before Sasori could smack him again. “H-HEY! You’re the one that thought it, not me! Closet pervert!”
“You’re so dumb.” Sasori clicked his tongue and looked away. “You could kiss me now, if you wanted.”
“Really?” Hidan’s jaw dropped. Sasori’s mouth twitched into a smirk.
“Really really.”