AN: What lunacy. It's a true miracle that this piece ever came into existence. Between a full-time job, full-time college courses, volunteering at the BWS and being a professors grading assistant, I have no free time. [Now I get to add the wonders of Christmas gift making on top of that. Joy.] But, my brain simply would not let sleeping dogs lie. Thus, you have this story. Also, later this week, perhaps, a new chapter of MLM will be up. Thank you to my ever-patient readers, and to my poor sister who was entirely ignored in pursuit of this fic.

NOTE: Text messages will be displayed in bold. Try not to think too hard, lovelies.

Why? Why? Why?

Sasuke had never been popular. Not simply because his looks were nothing to write home about (his hair and eyes were black, and his skin sickly pale), but because his oftentimes sarcastic and sharp personality was nothing short of off-putting.

This is why, when he had been walked out upon by yet another date, he wasn't all that shocked.

Shocked? Hardly. Disappointed? Hell yes.

He sighed, running his thin fingers through his disobedient mess of inky hair, thinking through the horror that had just been his first and only date with "Neji".

'Probably wasn't even his name. Poser. Fucking poser. Holy hell. Talk about flaming.'

Sasuke had been…gender specific, since he was fifteen, when he had a rather embarrassing mishap with a fellow student involving being locked (overnight) inside the school's locker room after gym-class. Things had changed.

Ever since then, he had been on the wrong end of a string of bad relationships, and he had been brooding over whether or not he should give up altogether. One the one hand, he was giving up sex. On the other, he had a future of never having to deal with another annoyance. And he had already proven himself to be very efficient when it came to "taking care of himself".

His breath swam from his mouth in twisting tendrils to the icy air around him as he pulled his coat closer about his tiny frame. A horrid date to match equally horrid weather. Sasuke hated the cold. No, not hated, loathed.

Which is why he sought out shelter in a small pub a few blocks from his apartment. It was time to get stinking drunk, and order a nice toasty cab home.

"Another loss, eh, Sasuke?" was the ever present grinning greeting of his chosen bar-tender. He was an older man, Sasuke assumed, because of his grey hair. But from the way he talked, Kakashi couldn't have been over thirty.

"Yeah. Too young. I felt like a pedophile," Sasuke said quietly, giving the bar-tender a small smirk as he shed his coat and scarf, slinging them over the back of his seat at the otherwise empty bar.

"Hyuga's never age. It's a fact of life. You can't say I didn't warn you."

It was true. Kakashi had given him a warning. A very long, ranting, flesh-crawling warning. Which, of course, he hadn't listened to. He should really learn.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I'm a sucker for those pale eyes."

"You know, you still haven't taken me up on my offer to set you up. I know a lot of hunks with blue peepers," only one of his eyes squinted as he smiled. The other was hidden under his eye patch. Sasuke had never asked why.

"I have a feeling that every guy you know is a registered sex-offender."

"Your boss is a registered sex-offender."

Both of them laughed, but only for a few seconds, as Sasuke's cell began to ring, marking a call from the devil himself.

"Speak of the devil," Sasuke mumbled, sliding the button of his iPhone and setting the phone to speaker, as the only person to hear was Kakashi.

"Sasuke," came the purring voice over the speaker, "Did you have plans for the evening?"

Sasuke was caught between rolling his eyes and shuddering in disgust.

"Yes, actually. I got a text from my brother asking me to put him up for the night while he's in town."

"Oh, darn. I was rather hoping you would come and keep me company through the work-load."

Sasuke sighed. This happened every Friday night like clock-work, and there was only one solution.

"I can drop in and pick up a carton, but I've really got to work from my home-base this week, Orochimaru."

Sasuke could taste the grin as his boss readily agreed to packing a carton full of manuscripts for him to take home over his week off. Not that Sasuke minded. It wasn't like he had anything better to do, and getting lost in a manuscript sounded like a better way to spend his evenings than watching an entire season of Criminal Minds while gorging on icecream.

He hung up the phone after agreeing to swing by in an hour, and promptly clapped his forehead down on the bar-top.

"So… I'm just going to go ahead and give this kid your number, because the two of you will have a riot over your week off."

Before Sasuke could get his head off the counter, Kakashi had already snatched his phone, and was readily sending a text off to some creep or another. After all, that was the only kind of person Kakashi knew. Creepy.

"I really don't have any interest in dating someone like you, Kakashi. I'll let Iruka have every ounce of that fun."

Kakashi grinned and giggled, an eerie combination for an older man with an eye-patch, and put Sasuke's usual apple martini in front of him.

"Fruit for fruit, boy-o. And trust me on this one. Not every guy I know works in the porn industry."

Sasuke sighed, gulping down the alcohol with the swift precision of a well-practiced drunk, and wriggling his way back into his coat.

"Call me a cab, will you? I'm not walking back the five blocks in this kind of weather."

Kakashi nodded, being in equal hatred of the fluffy while stuff, and pressed the bars speed-dial to the cab company, easily giving them the where's and to's before waving Sasuke a fond farewell.

The cab was at the curb by the time Sasuke got everything together, made a final call into work to make sure the carton was ready, and text his brother his new address. Said cab was only slightly warmer than the outside air, but since it cut the wind, Sasuke was grateful. He politely asked the cabbie to wait for him while he ran in to grab the package, making sure that his boss sensed his displeasure before scampering back to the cab.

He hefted the package into the back seat, slid in next to it, and checked his phone again. His brother, who should consider having his phone surgically attached to his body, was always quick to respond.

See you in twenty.

Eight minutes later, Sasuke was out of the cab and fumbling with his keys. Four minutes and an awkward conversation with the elderly landlady brought him to his apartment. Three more minutes saw coffee on to brew, clothes in the wash, and sweat pants tossed onto his lanky frame.

He had five minutes left before Itachi came over, and it only took him two of those five to make up the sofa into a comfortable bed, and one more to set his manuscripts out on the table in alphabetical order. He couldn't argue against being more than a little obsessive compulsive.

It was exactly twenty minutes after receiving the text that Itachi knocked at the door. Sasuke quickly let him in, offering coffee and taking his coat to hang in the closet.

"I like the place, Sasuke. It's different from the last one. More open."

Itachi was an architect, and had never been very pleased with his previous living spaces. Which is why, this time around, he had specifically gone hunting for an apartment with "good bones".

"It's really more space than I need," Sasuke said, handing Itachi a steaming mug of coffee before the both of them plopped down onto the sofa.

Sasuke and Itachi had not gotten along well as children. Their home had been built in the spirit of competition, and their parents constantly pitted them against each other to push them to their potential. So to speak.

Which is why Sasuke no longer spoke to his parents. They apparently weren't happy with having an editor's assistant as a son.

But, despite the rough rocks of their past, they had somehow settled into a total comfort of companionship over the last two years. Sasuke had graduated college, and Itachi had opened up his own architectural business, and the two of them had taken comfort in each other. Not in a creepy way, of course, but they could now sit in a comfortable silence together.

Itachi made some comment or another about how late it was, and Sasuke took the hint, feeling his eyes beginning to get the tell-tale stale feeling of sleep deprivation. The two brothers parted ways and Sasuke was nearly asleep when his phone buzzed with a text message.

'Ignore it. Just go to sleep,' Sasuke sighed, burying his face in the pillows.

"Ugh," he whispered, "what if it's Orochimaru?"

He practically flung his tired arm out onto the nightstand, quickly turning to his text messages.

Unknown number.

Fabulous.

Inuzuka café. Tomorrow. 2 o'clock?

'What the hell? Who could be-'

And dawn struck him. Kakashi. Giving his number to some unknown stranger. Who was probably a molester. Or would make a suit out of his skin. Fabulous.

And yet, sitting there in the dark, with his bed dwindled down to the warmth of only one person, Sauske decided it couldn't be that bad. After all, Inuzuka's was a busy, public spot. Just like the restaurant he'd been in for his yelling match of a date, today.

2's fine.

He didn't bother checking to see if whoever it was replied, or to think over whether or not meeting up with a total stranger was really a good idea. No, the only thing wandering through Sasuke's mind was the sound of wind whistling past his window, and his bed being too cold.

'Why can't somebody just love me?'

AN: Well, there you have it, dearies. I know that it's terribly drawn out, and utterly boring, but I promise that the next chapter will be extra spicy~