Summary: Deidara thinks he wants freedom. Itachi knows he wants Deidara. Sasuke isn't sure just what he wants. And Shikamaru? Well, Shika just thinks it's all way too troublesome.

Sidefic/prequel to "Mixed Communication", ItaxDei, other pairings, yaoi, boyxboy, angst, crossdressing, AU

Disclaimer: I do not own any Naruto character.

Warnings: Relatively tame starting out, eventually I'll get into more dangerous territories :)

A/N: So this is the sidefic I've been musing about for Mixed Communication. Some of the basic stuff is already out there, but hopefully it will be entertaining anyway :) MC is still my main focus, but we'll see how this goes. It's been running around in my head long enough I wanted to actually get it down.

Oh yeah, and reviews make mouths happy ^_^

...

"You know, Itachi, if it was anyone else but you I'd call them a stalker."

Itachi didn't react to the goading of the man sitting next to him in the car. Hoshigaki Kisame was annoying and rude. He was too tall and was not always picky about his personal hygiene. He flaunted tattoos of deadly sea life and had a habit of eating crab rangoons at the oddest of occasions, like at the present time when they were sitting across the street from the path between the art department at T University and the school's cafeteria.

For all his faults, however, Hoshigaki-san was an excellent bodyguard. And extremely loyal. And, Itachi concluded internally, probably technically correct in his assessment of the situation. He checked the clock impatiently. They were running late.

Then he saw the group of students coming across the lawn, laughing and playing around. Some of them had crazy-colored hair and outfits; he discarded those immediately, seeking out the one person he was there to see.

A shaft of sunlight caught the blond as he pushed his hair back from his face. He was smiling at something one of his friends had said, though in Itachi's judgment the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. A flash of jealousy pierced the raven when one of the taller boys next to him patted the blond on his back. Deidara laughingly shrugged him off and slipped away to enjoy a joke with a couple of the female students, then turned to wave at a redhead crossing in the other direction.

"If you like him that much, I don't see why you don't just throw him down and fuck him."

This was followed by the messy sounds of crunching wonton. Itachi resisted the urge to glare at the other man. He'd thought of that. It wasn't really that far-fetched. Dei would probably even do it willingly, if he wasn't too pissed at him – a part of his ego was still cursing him for the night he'd thrown a drunk blond out of his room rather than give into the temptation. But he wasn't after just a quick fuck, or even a friend-with-benefits type of situation. What he wanted was a much deeper commitment, and Deidara had made it perfectly clear he wasn't looking for that. Itachi preferred to interpret it as that the blond wasn't ready for it yet, or wasn't aware that he was ready for it. He should know, they'd been living together for the better part of the last six years, even if it was under the guise of family.

"Whatever else it is, you guys sure do have one fucked up relationship."

This was also probably true; much as he was loathe to admit it. He preferred to think of it as an awkward phase in their developing relationship, a time when Deidara was learning to stretch his wings. They'd lived alone together for the past three years, ever since his parents had died and Itachi had had to manage taking over the family business while still managing to finish high school. On the surface, the nature of his relationship with the blond hadn't changed much after his parent's died. Underneath, the tension could sometimes be cut with a knife. They'd both been way too busy most of the previous year to do anything about it, but that had changed after Dei's entrance exam results were posted.

Dei had gone out to celebrate without telling him. It wasn't that he'd been in any danger, or that Itachi hadn't been able to find him in a heartbeat. No, it had been the challenging look in the blond's eyes when he marched down the stairs into the club to retrieve him. A look that dared him to do something. He'd wanted to. And after looking at the way the other boys were watching his blond he'd almost given in and claimed Dei as his own right then and there, just so none of them would ever think about touching him. But the rational part of his brain knew that if he did that, it would be a big mistake. Instead, he had just taken the blond home and put him to bed. His own bed.

He'd never fully understood the blond's self-destructive tendencies, but he was damned if he was going to be one of the tools Deidara used to cause himself more pain.

Deidara had been quiet the next morning, and neither of them mentioned what had gone on the night before. But things started to go downhill after that. They'd always occasionally snapped at each other, but for a while they'd been pretty close friends – well, as close as they could be while walking around the elephant in the room. It was if that night had built some sort of wall between him, a wall that Itachi couldn't break through no matter how hard he tried because Deidara acted perfectly fine with it being there. Then there were the moments when he looked at Itachi with such sadness, though the look was covered as soon as he noticed the raven looking back.

Finally, there was the night when the blond came home drunk and crawled into his bed, waking him up. His defenses had been down at first, but once he realized what was going on he was furious. Wrestling the blond outside his door was like carrying an oiled cat. Deidara had yelled at him for a bit, then stalked into his room and locked the door. Itachi had gotten over his anger and gone to talk to him through the door, getting nothing out of it except a declaration that the blond was "done" with everything. He'd thought it was just another outburst until he went to wake the other up in the morning and found his room empty.

They hadn't spoken sense. He'd been "informed" that he needed to give the blond space. So now, they lived in this strange non-relationship. He watched the blond go to lunch and read the intelligence reports regarding his movements and his new friends. He went home and found fresh flowers on the altar for Mikoto and Fugaku. He'd even found the blond asleep in their reading area one night, and spent an hour watching the moonlight travel across his face before tucking a quilt around him and going to bed. That hadn't happened again.

He'd channeled all his frustration into work, earning a fearsome reputation. None of it satisfied though. And now, there was another complication about to be added to his life. He heard his phone ring and picked it up, glancing at the clock in irritation. He could just guess exactly who it was.

"Moshi moshi" he said.

The man on the other end of the line didn't waste time on formalities. "I assume you have a good reason why you're oogling my son's ass instead of on your way to pick up your brother?"

"Your son?" Itachi replied, an edge of threat in his voice. He disliked anyone else claiming Deidara, and his great-uncle knew it.

"Technically." Madara replied. This was true, in the eyes of the government Deidara was listed on the family registry as Madara's adopted son. Not that they had much more of a relationship other than what was on paper, unless Madara was deciding to be a pain in his ass. Sometimes he cursed the technology that allowed the old man to know exactly where he was at all times, and exactly where Deidara was as well. Never mind that he'd used the exact same technology to find the blond on more than one occasion.

"Hn." He motioned for Kisame to start the car. "Understood."

The call was cut from the other side and Itachi flipped his phone shut, watching out the window as they pulled into the street and headed for the train station. He hoped traffic wasn't bad.

. . .

A pair of blue-grey eyes watched as the black car pulled away from the curb and into traffic. Internally Deidara griped that Itachi could at least be a little more subtle about his stalking – not that it would help. He'd always had this uncanny ability to sense when the raven was watching him. It drove him nuts most of the time. Of course, most things about Itachi did that, at least these days. He preferred not thinking about the reasons for that too deeply.

He felt irrationally upset because the raven's car had left so quickly; normally Itachi spent at least thirty minutes watching as they grabbed lunch and ate it on the green. He checked the date and realized it was the day that Sasuke was supposed to arrive. The thought of another person in their house annoyed him, even though he wasn't really living there anymore. He didn't know the younger Uchiha very well, but he'd always struck him as a royal prick. Now, that prick would be living in with Itachi. At least he was taking the downstairs guestroom and not Deidara's old room. That was still kept in its previous condition, even down to the unmade bed. It amused him to think that the fastidious Itachi Uchiha had a room in his house with an unmade bed.

He sighed. He didn't feel hungry anymore.

He made excuses to his friends, ignoring the worry in Konan's eyes, and made his way back to the studios. The best way to channel negative energy was through art, and he had a sculpture project to work on anyhow.

. . .

Sasuke Uchiha was nervous. Not that he would admit it, of course. Unfortunately, his best friend was sitting beside him, and Shikamaru could read him like a book. He didn't say anything though, just gazed up at the sky and watched clouds. For this, Sasuke was inordinately grateful.

He hadn't seen his brother since the funeral. He had no idea if Itachi was still the same, or how he'd changed. He had no idea what living with Itachi would be like. He was relieved to know that Deidara wasn't living in the house anymore – he had never understood why he'd gained an older cousin at age ten, or why the new cousin got to live with his family while he was stuck living with his grandparents.

He was also bothered by the fact that he was having to transfer into a new school mid-trimester. At least Shika was transferring with him. It was a weird coincidence that the brunet's father was transferred at the same time that he was told he had to move to Tokyo, but he wasn't complaining.

Shikamaru had been his friend ever since they were little. On the surface, they didn't have too much in common – Sasuke spent most of his time studying or practicing traditional crafts, while Shika spent most of his time watching the clouds – but they were both always neck and neck when scores were posted. Plus, when he went over to Shikamaru's house, he could actually play video games, and the brunet never actually turned him down when he suggested they go do something a little more active. All-in-all, it was a good partnership.

He looked down at his watch. They hadn't had to wait too long. Maybe traffic was just really bad. He thought about calling Itachi, but hesitated, reasoning that there was no way he'd forgotten (Itachi was perfect, right?) and that he'd be there soon.

When the black car pulled up to the curb and Itachi got out, he was mildly relieved.

"Forgive me, Sasuke. I did not mean to keep you waiting."

"It's nothing. I'm glad to see you."

Sasuke looked at Shikamaru suspiciously when his parents pulled up right behind Itachi's black car. The brunet looked at him blandly and said, "See you at school tomorrow?"

The younger raven nodded, and then looked at the tall man exiting his brother's car.

"Hoshigaki-san, can you please get his bags?"

The tall man nodded at them, saying "Uchiha-sama, Uchiha-san," before picking up Sasuke's bags and putting them in the trunk.

Sasuke looked at Itachi. He looked older. He didn't know what he had expected. Itachi looked distracted; he didn't give him the faint smile he was used to, or poke his forehead. Sasuke figured it was because they were out in public. He also knew that Itachi was kept busy with the business; his grandmother had chided him not to interfere with the things Itachi had to do.

He swallowed away the brief rush of homesickness that her memory invoked and followed Itachi to the car, settling down in the back seat.

"Is there anything special you would like for dinner, otouto?" Itachi asked.

"Anything is fine."

Sasuke glanced into the rearview mirror, meeting the strange eyes of the man driving the car. He didn't know why, but he felt a bit unnerved by the slightly sardonic stare. Maybe he was imagining things.

"Hn," his brother replied.

They were silent the rest of the way to the house. Not that Sasuke normally minded silence – it was one of the advantages of having Shika was a best friend. But he had to say – even if just to himself – that he'd hoped for just a little more interaction with his brother after three years. Maybe Itachi was just having an odd day, or maybe things would be different when they were alone. Hopefully.

He stared out the window at the unfamiliar city streets and wondered, not for the first time, what he was doing so far from home.