To the rest of the world, they were just another pair of civilians. Dressed in simple brown clothing and wide-brimmed hats, they blended in perfectly as they made their way through the afternoon crowds. No one would’ve suspected that they could be the Kazekage and a wanted criminal, sneaking around on another illegitimate date.

Deidara clutched Gaara’s wrist and tugged him into a bustling clothing store.

“Where—“ Gaara began. He was answered by a huge, mischievous grin. Shit. That usually meant trouble.

Gaara could do nothing but allow himself to be dragged to the back of the store, Deidara smirking all the way. He paused, then whisked the Kazekage into a vacant dressing room when nobody was looking.

“What—“ Gaara protested as soon as the door was shut. He jumped in surprise when Deidara began hastily unbuttoning his clothing.

“Shh,” Deidara whispered, tugging the shirt off Gaara’s shoulders. He pushed the Kazekage up against the wall, hands wandering across his skin. The artist licked his lips lustily, eye sparkling with anticipation.

“Stop. Aren’t you afraid we’ll be found out?” Gaara hissed tensely.

“Mhmm. But the fear is half the fun!”

**