Written because I love writing pointless SasoDei fluff. Warnings for an incredibly out of character Sasori (nothing unusual for me then). Title stolen from the song of the same name by Blink182. Oh, and Happy Valentines for the weekend guys (even if you are as single as I am)

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, or any of its characters. I make no money from this story.


There was no denying it, Sasori was drunk. Various bottles of god-knows-what littered the floor of the shared workshop. His hair shone copper in the lamplight, and his form cast a shaky shadow onto the rough walls behind him. Whether or not the shadow shook because its caster was completely inebriated and could barely sit on his chair, let alone stay still; or simply that the light was flickering, was another matter.

Drinking had certainly seemed like a good idea earlier. His latest artistic venture was, well, tricky. He was unsure how other so called artists put up with such tasks and found the only way to tackle it himself had been to become rather intoxicated. It was true, the temperamental redhead was used to doing extremely time consuming and mentally challenging tasks. Performing maintenance on his own artworks was equally as intricate and delicate.

The alcohol helped to ease him of the stress of this fact. It also meant he had a great deal less care about pretty much everything else going on. The redhead barely realised that his sleeve was dragging in the glue he'd used, nor that there was glitter in his tousled locks. The ribbon now attaching itself to his adhesive coated sleeve was best left unmentioned.

Still, this particular piece of art was just as important as creating the inner workings of his puppets. He was down to the final process now, and it had to go just right. Sasori would settle for nothing less than perfect on this. He frowned at the small object in front of him, before dipping his paintbrush in the ink. (he had, of course, missed on the first few attempts at doing so. It is best for all concerned if we ignore that though, Sasori doesn't make mistakes after all).

Creating this piece was crucial to Sasori right now. Earlier he'd banished the brat from the workshop in order that this creation went just right. He wasn't about to ruin things now. He was finally beginning to understand what his partner meant about this particular style of art, and why people would bother with it.

The small furrows in his brow deepened once more as the tip of the brush hovered over the surface of the object. He stopped himself and put the brush back in the ink momentarily. He was going to need a stiff one first if he were to attempt this.

Giggling slightly at his own double entendre he reached out for the cup before him. It was halfway to his lips when he realised he had in fact grabbed a container of his favourite poison. Slamming it down, he took up the cup he'd intended to drink from the first time and gulped down the fiery liquid within.

Sasori grinned, a devilish gleam in his hazel eyes and almost immediately picked up his brush again. Sweeping the soft bristles over his art, he continued to laugh madly, before flinging the brush behind him and falling off his chair.

It was here a certain blonde purveyor of mischief found the puppet master when he burst into the workshop the next morning. The wooden door squealed on its hinges and hit the wall with a resounding boom as Deidara strode into the room, arms outstretched, and cocky smirk plastered onto his face. Never let it be said the bomber didn't like to make an entrance.

"Master Sasori!" he called out into the wide space of the workshop, completely ignoring the fact there was no need for him to yell. He paused before continuing however as he spotted the familiar form of red and black in front of him. Suppressing a snort, he raised an eyebrow at his partner.

Deidara hadn't been aware Sasori could drink, let alone get drunk. Storing the information for later (as well as for suitable blackmail purposes) he began picking up a few of the bottles scattered around the workshop. As for Sasori sleeping, that just confused him entirely. In the seven years the two artists had been partnered he'd never once known the human puppet to sleep. Although he supposed whatever the hell Sasori did in Hiruko was anyone's guess.

Then he spotted it. The object Sasori had been working on all evening.

Sitting pretty on the elder's workbench was a square of card. All manner of glitter and frills adorned it's surface. The blonde supposed it was meant to look like an explosion, but there were hearts on it. And not those ridiculous love hearts either, but detailed, life like drawings of human hearts. It was a little sickening actually, but Sasori was always one for accuracy.

He glanced down at the other sculptor, who was seemingly still asleep, oblivious to the racket Deidara had been making. He snored gently, completely lost in his dreams. Assured that Sasori wouldn't be waking up anytime soon, Deidara stepped over his body towards the workbench.

He covered his hand with the sleeve of his cloak. The bomber was not stupid, and recognised the poison on the wooden work top, he didn't want any getting into his mouths. Tentatively, he picked up the kitsch little card and read the scrawl at the top of the page.

Happy Valentines, Dei

Deidara groaned, the pun really was terrible, but he supposed the thought behind it was cute. Rolling his eyes he opened the card, hoping that Sasori hadn't written anything as cheesy inside. However, he didn't get a chance to find out. The moment the card was opened a spark lit up, and the entire paper creation went up in a puff of smoke.

The blonde let out a true laugh at this. Sasori had tried to make something fleeting! Such a pity it was that the other had been asleep at it's moment of glory. He set about covering the other man's slumbering form with a blanket, and refilled the cup on the desk with water. Finally he set down a packet of painkillers, from the looks of it, Sasori was in for one hell of a hangover.

Looking back before he closed the door Deidara paused. He'd been pretty bored the previous evening, having been banned from the workshop. Shaking his head he crossed the room once more and put down his own gift by the water and painkillers.

"Happy Valentines Master Sasori," he chuckled.