Deidara was stiff, his visible eye thin, held back only by a desire not to cause a scene which might result in Sasori poisoning him to stop him. The fingers moving over the mouth in his hand served only to unnerve him more, being far too intimate a touch in Deidara's mind as well as leaving the unpleasant taste as a reminder that what he was dealing with wasn't alive in the sense a human was. He jerked his hand away roughly.

"My hand, un," he spat, and the tongue in the hand that had been touched stuck out as if trying to get the taste out of it.

Deidara pacified it with clay.