A/N After months of dormancy this story really seems to be moving along... so thanks to everyone who's still reading! Hopefully I should be updating pretty regularly now... Since it's AU I've really started feeling the need for surnames, so I'm using the names of the the hidden villages they came from, Taki for Kakuzu, Yu for Hidan...

Hidan blinked as he emerged into the sunlight. The day had really improved while he'd been in Deidara's studio. He hadn't really noticed while he'd been inside since, although well lit, the studio only got the sun in the morning.

It had been a long session. Longer than they'd planned. Deidara turned out to have left one of his casts near one of his particularly volatile new charcoal pieces (also involving sulphur and potassium nitrate...) and it had exploded in the night. So he'd had to cast Hidan in that position all over again. And it would have been the one in the most difficult position to hold, Hidan thought bitterly, stretching his shoulder muscles with an agonised grimace. He massaged the left side of his neck with his right hand and wondered what to do next. He didn't particularly feel like going home. It was Friday, and he wanted to do something fun. But Deidara was busy preparing for going to Berlin, and had to arrange for the casts to be transported to the workshop where they'd be remade in silicone ready to be cast from multiple times in caramelised sugar. The sugar melted slowly in room temperature conditions - faster, of course with higher heat and humidity. The many sugar Hidans were destined for a slow, distorted and painful death, ending up as puddles on a gallery floor. It made the original Hidan feel a little sad to think of it.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and flicked it open. It was just coming up to four. He wondered idly whether to call up Tobi or Zetsu, but then dismissed the idea impatiently. He didn't feel like their company anyway. He began walking slowly in the direction of the tube, then decided he didn't feel like being underground, either, on a sunny spring afternoon like this, and turned back on himself, cutting down Tabernacle Street in the direction of City Road.

Immediately he felt better. Although he hadn't actually made a decision - just postponed one, really - about what he was going to do with the rest of the day, he felt like a weight had been lifted from him. He was unaccountable, he was free, and if he didn't know what he wanted to do with his freedom, well, he would just wander until he did know. He switched his phone off and put it back in his pocket. Now he was untraceable and uncontactable too, he thought smugly. No-one could bug him with last minute requests for sittings, or try to make him come and see art house films he didn't actually give a shit about.

He didn't think about where he was going, just wandered vaguely Southwards, not hurrying. It was nice to be moving after hours of keeping still. Hidan turned his face up to the sun and breathed in deeply. The air was getting cooler, the sun was still warm, but it felt like evening sunshine. Hidan didn't quite know why, but he felt excited. His hangover was completely gone - he might get them badly, but he normally recovered quickly enough. Deidara had gone out and got them deli sandwiches for lunch and that had got rid of the last shreds of the headache that had been mainly exorcised by the brisk walk to London Bridge through the drizzle. Hidan felt quite ready for another night of fun. The question was, with whom.

Going round a quarter of Finsbury Circus to get away from the noise of the main road for a few minutes, Hidan idly fingered his Oyster card in his jacket pocket, and felt something odd about it. It was a little thicker than usual, surely. It felt like there was a ticket tucked under the outer plastic flap. But Hidan never bought paper tickets. Bringing it out, he saw that it wasn't a ticket at all, it was a business card. A chunky, good quality one. Ivory watermarked card, the letters slightly embossed. One word jumped out at him and brought images from last night swimming up before his eyes. 'Kakuzu'. Kakuzu! The guy at the private view...

'Kakuzu Taki, Art Investment Manager' it read. And there was a message, written in an elegant scrawl across the bottom of the card. 'Give me a call if you're in the Bank area, K'. Hidan began to smile. He crossed over the main road and, looking down Throgmorton Street, he could see the Stock Exchange. Bank station was less the five minutes walk from here, he estimated. He looked at the address on the card, and smirked again. Even closer! He decided he wouldn't give Kakuzu a call, he'd pay him a call. After all, it was Friday, maybe he could leave work a little early!

Five minutes later Hidan was in an impressive lobby, smiling charmingly at a receptionist. "Is Mr. Taki expecting you?" she trilled.

"Yes," said Hidan, feeling that Kakuzu really should be, having written something like that.

"What name shall I say?" The receptionist picked up the phone.

"Just say 'Hidan'," said Hidan. "He'll know." He leant nonchalantly on the high desk as she made the call.

"Mr. Taki?" she said, and Hidan faintly heard the deep rumble of Kakuzu's reply. "I've got a Hidan, here to see you, down at the front desk?" Her voice was a little doubtful and questioning, and she stressed Hidan's name oddly.

Kakuzu's reply seemed a little surprised in tone, and Hidan tensed as he tried to work out exactly what he said. He thought it might have been "Oh really?"

"Oh!" said the receptionist. "He said you were expecting him..."

Upstairs, looking out over at the Monument, Kakuzu smiled and covered for his surprised reaction. "Oh yes," he said. "And so I am." He gave a swift glance at his watch. "Four-thirty already, is it? Goodness."

The receptionist gave a gurgling laugh. "Time does seem to go quickly on a Friday, Mr. Taki... shall I send him up?"

"No, no, I'll come down," said Kakuzu. "Tell him I'll be with him in a moment." He put down the phone and stood for a moment, incredulous that the surreptitious business card trick should have already borne fruit. He took a moment to compose himself, then went out through his secretary's office and headed for the lifts.

Down in the lobby, Hidan had been directed to a seat and given a glass of water from the water cooler. He was slightly surprised, but pleased, that Kakuzu was coming down to meet him. He didn't want to get lost in a bank. He wondered if Kakuzu would be annoyed. He'd seemed like quite a serious sort of guy, after all. Hidan felt a bit like a naughty child.

Kakuzu felt the tug at his heart strings that was becoming quite familiar by now as he saw Hidan sitting by a potted fern, having not noticed him yet. My God, he's so hot, Kakuzu thought, imagining taking him right then and there. His imagination removed the receptionist, obviously, and the security guard. He wondered if Hidan was that attractive to everyone. That prematurely grey hair... Kakuzu thought it looked fantastic, and gave him an air of sophistication too. There was no question of it making him look old. Hidan saw him and got up. Kakuzu crossed over the chequered marble floor to him and shook his hand, patting his shoulder lightly as he did so.

"Good to see you, Hidan," he said. "Will you come up for a minute? I just have a few more phone calls to make and then I'll be through for the day."

He ushered Hidan through the wooden doors to the lifts, and called one down. The doors opened immediately, and they stepped inside. Now Kakuzu's imagination had no obstacles to remove. He looked at Hidan and his lips twitched in a predatory smile. Hidan lounged against the mirrored wall and returned the smile as the doors closed again. "I wondered if you'd come," Kakuzu said.

"Ah, I was at a bit of a loose end," Hidan replied.

"I'm sure we can get that tied up..." The lift doors opened and Kakuzu guided Hidan out with a light touch to the shoulder. "This way..."

His secretary looked up, interested. Kakuzu favoured her with a curt nod as he led Hidan straight into the inner sanctum of his private office.

"Make yourself at home," he said indicating the brown leather sofa against the far wall. "I won't be long." He walked around his desk and perched on the edge of it. Hidan sat down on the sofa, and like anything he did he did it obviously and expansively, his arms stretched along the back, his legs wide apart. Kakuzu angled himself so that he was facing away from him, but could see his vague reflection in the floor to ceiling windows.

Where shall I take him? he asked himself as he dialled the number of a major German collector, tucking the receiver between his ear and his shoulder as he reached for his pen and notepad. Sosho? No, too noisy. The East Room? Hmm. It might be irritating for Hidan to double back that way, if he'd walked from Old Street... Loungelover? ... Yes. Yes, why not? Opens early on Friday, good cocktails, sushi, nice opulent atmosphere, ironic enough feel not to be too tacky... pity their house champagne's not better, but that's a harsh thing to judge an establishment by... plenty of other champagnes on the wine list, after all...

He wasn't really focusing on his phone conversation. When he put the phone down he couldn't quite recall what he'd said - he'd been watching Hidan's reflection out of the corner of his eye. He'd begun to wander around the room, looking at Kakuzu's books and the masks on the wall. Kakuzu could imagine keeping him in here all the time, like some kind of very high maintenance pet. He smirked into the receiver as he dialled the next number, wondering what his business associates would make of such a thing. They'd probably go home wanting one of their own...

'Well,' said Kakuzu as they walked out of the building. 'Where would you like to go? There's a great bar in Shoreditch I went to recently... if we walk slowly it should be open by the time we get there.'

Hidan took Kakuzu's hand and brought it up so he could read the time off his watch. 'It opens at 5.30 on a Friday,' Kakuzu said hastily - something told him that - fit as he obviously was - Hidan wouldn't like the idea of too long a walk. 'It's only about twenty minutes from here.'

Hidan looked up at the clear sky, just beginning to dim, and then back at Kakuzu. "Alright," he said. "Lead the way!"

Half an hour later, having taken the walk at a very leisurely pace, Hidan and Kakuzu were seated in the back part of Loungelover, scanning down the cocktail menu.

It was only a moment before Hidan tossed it onto the table and leant back. "I'll have the Sidecar," he said, his eyes lazily meeting Kakuzu's dead on. "Like fuck I'm ordering any dodgy concoction with fig liqueur in it."

Kakuzu smiled. The boy had style. "I couldn't agree more. It makes one think they must've had a job lot off the back of a lorry," he said. "I'm sticking with the Dry Martini, myself."

He caught the eye of a waiter, and placed the order, ordering a mixed platter of sushi as well, then turned back to look at Hidan. The entire of the back of Loungelover was decorated in red, red velvet curtains, red leather settees, even red tinted glass in the windows. It was an atmosphere that seem to suit Hidan to perfection. Kakuzu let himself admire him for a moment, without speaking. He did like to have a striking companion.

He'd been single for a long time now. Kakuzu was forty-two, and had gone through partners like water after he first started working in the City, but for a while now he just hadn't been able to muster the necessary enthusiasm. But this felt different. This had his heart beating again.

"So, you got home safely last night." he said.

"Fuck, yeah," Hidan replied. "Like I said, don't fucking worry about me. Sure, I've come off a couple of times - who fucking hasn't? - but I know how to hold my own on the road."

"Indisputably..." Kakuzu murmured. "So, the fact that you're on foot today doesn't indicate that you wrote off your bicycle last night."

"Fuck no!" Hidan replied, heatedly. "What it fucking indicates is that it was a horrible fucking morning, and I had a motherfucker of a hangover, and I couldn't be fucking bothered."

Kakuzu smiled indulgently, watching Hidan with amusement. He seemed to be getting hooked even on the way he talked... the obscenities seemed to slip out so naturally...

"Pussies who ride in the fucking gutter at fucking five miles an hour," Hidan continued, obviously on his hobby horse, "are in more fucking danger than I am! You have to assert your right to use the road! Show the fucking motorists you mean business! I don't use cycle lanes on fucking principle! They fucking spit you out in the middle of big fucking junctions with nowhere to go, and they're too fucking narrow. It's a fucking farce."

The waiter arrived with their drinks, and Kakuzu indicated the Sidecar towards Hidan.

"I was more concerned by the amount you'd had to drink, actually," he said. "Cheers."

"Cheers," Hidan replied, taking a slurp of his cocktail and rolling it around his mouth critically. "No, man, that's no fucking problem, because the more reckless and instinctive you are on a bike, the better you ride. It's hesitation that will fucking kill you."

Kakuzu sipped his Dry Martini. "What about balance, though," he asked. "What about reaction time?"

"Balance is instinctive," said Hidan. "I couldn't fall off if I fucking tried. And your reactions on a bike are so much quicker than a fucking motorist's anyway, it's not true."

Kakuzu rather suspected it wasn't, but he didn't want to press the point. "Good cocktail?" he asked.

"Fucking-A, man," said Hidan. "It's actually fucking strong enough."

They both laughed. They'd spent the walk over there talking about Hidan's sitting with Deidara, and moved from there to last night's private view, then private views in general. Hidan's views and observations had been in equal measures profane and hilarious. But now, Kakuzu wanted to really know about Hidan. The real guy beneath the prickly joker with no regard for his personal safety. He wanted to know if he was really part of a crazy bloody cult, why he seemed to be so dead set on taking his life in his hands, how he became stuck into the kind of hedonistic lifestyle that seemed to spell burn-out by thirty.

But he didn't know where to begin, and he looked at Hidan, and Hidan looked back at him, and though the silence could not be called comfortable, it wasn't awkward either. It felt... poised. The chemistry between them sent tingles down Kakuzu's spine. And just when he was sure things were going to get interesting, just when he was leaning over to close the space between them, he saw a familiar face appear over Hidan's shoulder.

It was a blast from the past that was really, really not welcome, and he genuinely couldn't find the words to reply when he was greeted as if they hadn't tried to strangle each other at their last meeting.

Orochimaru. Really, after his conversation with Kisame this morning, it just seemed like too much of a horrible coincidence. He wondered whether Sasuke was with him tonight, or whether Itachi had succeeded in arranging to meet his little brother. Which meant maybe Kabuto would be here! Oh please, no! thought Kakuzu. Kabuto had been a brilliant young medical student when Kakuzu was a junior doctor, and Kakuzu hated any reminder of his medical past. Every time Kabuto saw him he brought it up, as well. He had been about the only person Kakuzu had kept in touch with. Then he'd introduced him to Sasori, and Sasori had had a bit of a thing with him. And at that time, Orochimaru had been showing regularly at the newly opened Akatsuki Gallery - he'd schmoozed his way in with all of the original Akatsuki crowd. But when they all fell out - after... whatever it was that had gone down with Itachi - and Orochimaru had severed his connections with them and vanished from the scene, Kabuto had unexpectedly gone with him.

Kakuzu really didn't want to see him when he had Hidan with him. Possibly, though, he wanted to see Orochimaru even less, he considered, as Orochimaru proceeded to introduce himself to Hidan and sit down sinuously next to him, putting a predatory hand on his arm. Kakuzu felt his blood begin to boil. He wanted to strangle the smarmy bastard then and there!

"Fuck off!" said Hidan, indignantly. Orochimaru didn't move, but smiled oilily at Kakuzu.

"What a lively temper your charming friend has, Kakuzu," he said in his hoarse voice that always made Kakuzu think of someone who'd given too many blowjobs. "I congratulate you - you may have finally met your match!"

Before Kakuzu could react, Hidan had shrugged off Orochimaru's hand and elbowed him in the face. "What part of 'fuck off' don't you fucking understand, you prick!" he said. "Keep your fucking hands off me, alright?!" Guys like that seriously creeped him out. He stood up and moved over to Kakuzu's side of the table, where he sat down close enough that Kakuzu practically had his arm around him without having to move. "Jeez." he murmured. "What a douche."

Orochimaru hesitated for a moment, hand to his face, then retreated, obviously embarrassed, as he realised he had a fairly heavy nosebleed to deal with. Following him with his eyes, Kakuzu saw that Kabuto was indeed with him, he'd been waiting at the bar. He gave Kakuzu a discreet wave. Kakuzu nodded curtly in return.

Now he really did put his arm around Hidan. "I'm sorry about that. I know some dreadful people," he murmured. "But it was really almost worth it to see you elbow the bastard in the face!"

"No shit!" Hidan replied, smirking, feeling somehow invulnerable with Kakuzu so close beside him. "I was fucking hoping he'd give me the opportunity! Isn't he the prick who runs that independent art school in Kennington?"

"That's right," Kakuzu said. "He set it up after he got fired from Chelsea for having fiddled with too many students... though he said it was because he wanted to 'give students a better grounding in technique'..." They both snorted with derisive laughter. "Did you ever do any modelling there?"

"Yeah, I used to." Hidan swallowed the last mouthful of his cocktail. "I never ran into the man himself much, though, just glimpsed him from afar. I got hired by the head of painting. It's a fucking awful atmosphere there, seriously. The student body is seriously nearly all pretty boys who the boss wants to screw." He spun the empty glass around between his fingers. "Not nice for a model, really. Not a place you really feel comfortable with your fucking pants down."

Kakuzu took Hidan's glass. "Another the same?" he asked.

"Sure." Hidan replied.

Kakuzu turned away to sign to the waiter, keeping his arm loosely along the back of the settee behind Hidan. His heart was pounding and nervous tingles were unsettling his stomach. He hadn't been with someone he wanted so much since - since. Well, he couldn't even remember the last time. He'd forgotten the subtle intricacies involved in getting someone to the point where they want to go to bed with you. And he was afraid, in case after sleeping with Hidan the dynamic between them was ruined, and also afraid of continuing to want him so much that he actually ceased functioning properly. At all costs, remain outwardly calm, he told himself. Don't let him see the state he's got you in.