Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, Akatsuki or any of the characters/concepts featured. All characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.

Valentine's Day.

Sasori loathed it with a burning passion. In fact, his hate of Valentine's Day rivalled Itachi's hate of birthday parties.

The whole atmosphere was just far too lovey-dovey and touchy-feely for his liking, not to mention completely pointless. It was as though a spell had been cast on the entire attached population.

People pranced from shop to shop, happily spending the day trawling through hordes of cheap gifts, inevitably buying something ridiculous to give to their sweetheart. They huddled outside cinemas and other supposedly romantic locations, kissing and hugging and gazing wistfully at each other, with no concern for the normal people of the world.

Everyone was as sickeningly sweet as the candy they purchased.

Sasori despised it. He sneered at the love-struck teenagers, and he turned his nose up at the doting adults. He grimaced whenever he saw a stuffed animal or a bouquet of roses, and he felt physically sick from the overload of pink and red.

At least, he used to.

A few months ago something had suddenly entered his life and that something had forced him to reconsider the bizarre phenomenon that was Valentine's Day.

In fact, that something had forced him to reconsider the whole idea of love.

It was also blonde, and it went by the name of Deidara.

A friend had introduced the two of them and that had been it.

Sasori had never considered himself susceptible to any feelings of attraction, yet he had been completely powerless. He had fallen hook, line, and sinker. It was as if life had finally realised his reluctance to join in the celebrations and so had decided to tempt him with something he just could not resist, despite his best efforts.

But in Sasori's defence, Deidara was admittedly…gorgeous.

Taking this into account, it was unsurprising that the blonde had once been a model.

Sasori scowled as he turned into the clothing department. Yes, he was currently shopping for a gift on Valentine's Day. How ironic.

He liked to refer to his lover's career as being in the past because, when it came down to it, he had honestly disliked the job.

Deidara had been the kind of model that didn't necessarily…cover up well.

The pay had been good, but most of the time he had been made to wear sexy clothing and pose in suggestive positions; he had been valued only for his perfect body. It made Sasori's blood boil to think that the whole world had spent its time drooling over his boyfriend. Who knew what people could be doing whilst looking at him? They could have been masturbating for crying out loud!

Once Deidara had even invited Sasori to one of his shoots and, while Sasori couldn't deny that he had enjoyed the erotic display, it had affected him deeply when he had discovered that those photos were to be plastered over several magazines.

Thankfully he had managed to talk Deidara out of the job, and the blonde had promised to never return to his old line of work ever again. He had given his word that Sasori would be the only one to see him naked.

Sasori felt himself smile at that and he paused, his hand hovering in mid-air and clutching a coat hanger. Several other shoppers gave him weird looks.

Deidara was always such a bouncy little ray of sunshine and yet he had been completely distraught when he had discovered Sasori's true feelings. It had been so damn cute. Sasori was still partially amazed that he was in a relationship with someone so beautifully innocent and selfless.

'Sasori? What are you doing here? I thought shopping wasn't your thing.'

The voice broke the redhead's chain of thought, and he turned to face whoever had addressed him. It was Uchiha Itachi, one of his closest friends, his arms laden with several shopping bags. He looked very pale, though that wasn't anything unusual, but he also looked very worried.

Sasori narrowed his eyes. 'It's Valentine's Day; it's customary to present your significant other with a gift, is it not?'

'I suppose…'

'What's wrong with you? You look awfully pale,' said Sasori, placing the coat back on its rack.

'It's nothing,' said Itachi, though his expression seemed to convey an entirely different message. He shifted a little to the right. 'But I do think you should leave…'

At this point Sasori noticed he was trying to block his view of something. Naturally this spiked his curiosity and, since he knew Itachi wasn't one to joke around, he pushed past the Uchiha to see exactly what it was that was being hidden from him. He couldn't help but feel confused at what he saw.

It was a cardboard stall of calendars, all stacked next to each other in pretty little rows. Judging by the price tags, they were very expensive too.

Intrigued, Sasori wandered over to the stand, ignoring Itachi's protests and panicked looks. As he reached out to inspect one of the calendars, Itachi placed a hand on his shoulder, subtly warning him to do otherwise.

'You won't like it,' he whispered, solemnly.

'What won't I like?' asked Sasori, beginning to lose his patience. 'It's a calendar, Itachi-'

'Just trust me; you're not going to like it. You mustn't blame Deidara; he had his own reasons-'

'Deidara? What does he have to do with this?' questioned Sasori, incredulously. But before Itachi could answer, the redhead opened the calendar in one swift motion.

His heart stopped.

There, underneath the month of January, was an image of his blonde. He was sitting up with one of his legs bent against his chest. Though the scenery around him was snowy and cold, he was wearing nothing but a bobble hat and a long, stripy scarf, that being the only thing that covered him up. He had one finger pressed to his lips, making the whole picture very sensual indeed.

Unable to believe what he was seeing, Sasori turned to the next month of February. Now his lover was splayed out on a red heart cushion, licking a chocolate lollipop with a coy expression and wearing a very loose black nightgown.

Things didn't get any better after that. Well, they got better, but not in the way Sasori would have liked.

In March, Deidara was positioned under a sort of rainbow, next to a pot of gold. He had four-leaf clover in his hair and not much else. Thankfully the photographer had been merciful and had taken the shot in such a way that nothing could be seen. You didn't really need to see anything though; the blonde looked incredible as he was.

In April, he was hiding behind an umbrella, his body thrown forward to give an excellent view of everything from the waist up. In May, he was lying in a field of flowers and Sasori thanked Jashin that there were enough daffodils and daisies to conceal his boyfriend's private parts.

In June he was visiting the beach, and it wasn't just his sandcastle that had to be admired, and in July he could be seen enjoying an ice-cream whilst sitting up in a deckchair, his long hair cascading over his shoulders and his pink tongue savouring the dessert.

When he got to August, Sasori's jaw dropped and his cheeks flushed red. Deidara was skinny-dipping, tiny droplets of water covering his body and, if it weren't for the ripples in the swimming pool, everything could be seen clear as day. In fact, if you looked hard enough, you could definitely see the faint form of his…

Sasori hurriedly flipped the page when he felt all the blood in his body rush south. He relaxed a little when he saw September. Here, Deidara had simply been forced into the role of a sexy, less-than-qualified school teacher; a pencil between his lips as he sat cross-legged on a lucky pupil's desk. He also wore a thin pair of glasses. It actually suited him.

'That's the least revealing one,' said Itachi, solemnly.

Sasori shot him a look that told him to shut up. He turned the page to October. Now, the idea of Halloween was to dress up as a monster or ghoul, or even someone famous, but Deidara just…wasn't dressed, unless you counted the cute devil horns and the tiny red trident.

He looked like he was having fun in November, fireworks going off all around him and a sparkler in hand. He was wearing a tight leather outfit. Sasori felt his lips curve into a small smile; Deidara adored explosions, so he had probably enjoyed himself hugely in that particular shoot.

But the smile was instantly wiped away when he came to December. His lover was participating in yet another sexual innuendo by, effectively, making out with a gingerbread man and a candy cane. He was also sitting under a Christmas tree, a pair of white angel wings on his back and a wire halo on his head.

Sasori was deadly silent.

Itachi stared at him, waiting patiently for some sort of reaction. But the longer he waited, the more frightened he became; Sasori was just staring at the ground, the calendar still open in his grasp.

He wasn't doing anything.

Then, calmly and quietly, he shut the calendar and placed it back on the stand.

He didn't say anything.

Itachi gave him a nervous tap on the shoulder. 'Sasori?' he whispered, tentatively. He gulped. 'Sasori, are you…alright?'

'…Where is he?'

'Who-'

'Deidara!' yelled Sasori, turning on Itachi with the rage of a thousand suns. 'Where is the brat?! I'll fucking kill him!'

At this point it became apparent that Sasori and Itachi weren't the only ones interested in what Deidara had to offer. A group of people had crowded around the stall, several women, and some men, were relishing the sexy pictures as though the blonde were some common street whore.

And just to add insult to injury, one of them came in the form of Hidan. The Jashinist instantly recognised Sasori and pointed at him, grinning like the maniac he was. 'Red! Have you seen these things? They're so fucking hot! I never knew you could land a bitch like that!'

Sasori glared at him, his eyes burning with rage. The look was so hateful and so malicious, that Hidan retreated to the other end of the shop and darted into the pastry section. As Sasori made his way to the exit, mothers and small children making a path for him, Itachi followed, trying to quell his friend's anger. He had already abandoned his shopping bags.

'Look, Sasori, don't do anything rash here-'

'He fucking lied to me, Itachi,' murmured Sasori, his eyes staring straight ahead. 'It's like he wants to be seen. When I see the little harlot I'm going to-'

'You don't know why he did it-'

'Quit getting involved,' hissed Sasori, rapidly turning the corner of the street. 'Go back to Kisame.'

Itachi sighed and slowed down until he came to a complete stop near the end of the road. He watched Sasori storm off. Never before had he seen the redhead this upset. True, he had always been the impatient and possessive type, but he had never acted so distraught before; he obviously cared deeply for Deidara. Itachi shook his head and began to walk back the way he had come. He just hoped Sasori would go easy on the blonde.

Said man had been happily enjoying his clay sculpting when Sasori burst through the front door. He looked up and smiled at his boyfriend before running over for a hug and a kiss. 'Danna, un! I need to show-'

But Sasori pushed him away, sending him sprawling on the carpet. He cried out and, although he wasn't hurt physically, he was terrified. He looked up, his baby blue eyes wide with fear. 'Danna-'

'You fucking promised!' yelled Sasori, his teeth bared in a vicious snarl. He pointed at Deidara, angry tears beginning to build in the corners of his eyes. 'You promised you would never model again, you filthy slut! Do you have any idea how many people have seen those wretched calendars?! Do you have any idea what it does to me, seeing you like that?! You broke your word, brat! I thought I was the only one who could see you!'

Sasori paused here, panting heavily, his cheeks red with fury. Only then did he realise what he had done.

Deidara was laying on the floor, tears streaming down his rosy cheeks and his face contorted in sadness. He was sobbing pitifully, trying to hide his face with his hands without getting them tangled in his hair. His body jerked and shook as he continued to cry, and then all at once he stood up, and retreated to their bedroom, whimpering and keeping his head down.

As he brushed past Sasori, the redhead felt his wrath collapse. He turned to say something but only saw Deidara's foot as he disappeared up the stairs. He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes in frustration.

Then he became aware of a large object in his peripheral vision, a piece of furniture he hadn't noticed before.

He whipped his head to face the mysterious item only to be rendered thoroughly astounded.

There, in the corner of the room with a pretty blue bow attached, was brand-new workbench. The thing was huge and already had several tools placed on its surface, well-polished and ready to go. It had obviously cost a bomb to purchase because, not only did it include a couple of vices, but it also appeared to be fashioned out of solid hardwood.

Sasori blinked a few times, unable to comprehend the magnificence of the structure. Curious, he drifted over. He scowled at the blue bow and reached out to look at the tag, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. What he saw made him want to punch himself.

Happy Valentine's Day, Danna! ~

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course. Deidara hadn't agreed to model those calendars simply because he had wanted to; he had needed to money to buy…

Sasori kicked the nearest wall, cursing when he hurt his small toe.

Itachi had been right all along, but he hadn't listened. Instead he had jumped to conclusions, yet again, like a complete idiot.

He growled and looked over to the stairs. He had well and truly fucked things up, hadn't he? He sighed and made his way over, climbing them slowly.

He bit the inside of his cheek when he heard a weak sniffling coming from the bedroom. He raised his hand to knock on the door and paused when he heard a particularly loud cry. Taking a deep breath, he tapped on the wood. 'Dei?' he whispered, carefully.

At first there was no reply. Then a small voice was heard. It made Sasori's heart lurch in his chest. '…U-un…'

Taking this as permission to enter, Sasori pushed the door open, quickly stepping inside and closing it again. What he saw was enough to make him melt inside and feel like a complete asshole. Deidara was curled up on the bed, facing away from him and shivering.

'Deidara…'

The blonde didn't reply. He just curled further into himself. 'G-go away…'

Sasori bit his lip and sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning over to see his lover's face. It was still streaked with tears and his cheeks were flushed, strands of his hair sticking to them. Sasori reached out and tenderly brushed them away. Deidara buried his face in his pillow, not wanting to be seen.

'Deidara, listen to me…' cooed Sasori, softly, knowing exactly what tone to use.

'No,' said the blonde, his voice muffled by the fabric of the pillowcase.

Sasori leaned over further so that he was practically lying across the other. He nibbled the outer shell of his boyfriend's ear. That was one of Deidara's many weak spots and said male let out a noise that sounded like a cross between a whimper and a moan. Sasori continued his ministrations; one of his hands travelling to Deidara's hip and rubbing, gently sweet-talking his uke into turning around. 'Dei, please, look at me…'

Deidara shuffled a little before slowly looking around. It was painful for Sasori to see him in such a state, especially as he had been the cause.

'What do you want, un?' he whispered, his eyes full of agony and distrust.

Sasori went to stroke his cheek. 'I'm sorry-'

'You called me a slut, hm,' mumbled Deidara, weakly swatting his hand away. His face contorted at the memory and burst into tears again. Sasori brought the blonde to his chest, relief washing over him as his lover simply transformed into a ball and accepted the comfort.

Sasori shut his eyes, letting his shirt absorb his boyfriend's tears. He traced Deidara's spine with his fingers; he wasn't ridiculously thin, but a faint outline was still present. He knew the blonde liked being touched in this way. 'I know, I know…I was being…'

He trailed off. What? A bastard? An arrogant, self-absorbed prick? An idiotic, ungrateful son of a bitch? This was why he was surprised that someone like Deidara had bothered to choose him. Nothing could convey how much of a dick he had been, nor could anything be an appropriate punishment for such behaviour. No word could sum all of that up. No word could explain it either.

Well, actually, there was one. Just one.

'I was being…me…'

'But I just wanted to get you something, un,' whispered Deidara, his voice punctuated by hiccups. He unfurled himself a little, latching onto his Danna with one hand. He knew the redhead hadn't meant to say such nasty things; he had just been overprotective. 'I wanted to get you a gift for Valentine's Day, hm…'

'I know that now, and you needn't have worried,' whispered Sasori, planting a kiss on his lover's forehead and holding him tightly. 'But Deidara?'

'U-un?'

'You're the best gift I have ever received. And I want to be the only one to unwrap you.'

The OOCness burns... XD This was another thing I wrote in February to escape the almighty Block, and I meant to post on Valentine's Day but...*Is very sheepish* that plan didn't go well.

I still hope you liked it though. I didn't know whether or not to put it up, but I want to give you guys everything, again, because I made you wait so long. T^T