Author's Note: Okay, has it seriously been that long since I wrote this? Guys: I've got two months until uni, but I have no idea if you guys still like my fics, but it's a past time and I'll stick with it now that I've got nothing to do:). Review or not, just enjoy!

Itachi pushed his chair back with a scrape. He'd had enough of the dinner table conversation about Valentine's—still. He knew he wasn't one to complain about the fact that Valentines was all but overlooked in the Akatsuki: he did, after all, have plenty to choose from, which was more than he could say for, well, Hidan.

It wouldn't be so hard if he just tried a little, Itachi thought. He almost made a mental note to visit the Jashinist's gory room to give him some light advice, but then thought better of it. He hypothesized that the next morning, Hidan would gloat about how fucking romantic he was or something without giving Itachi credit. And that would tick Itachi off so much, he would retaliate, which would totally blow his cover. It's not like they all think I'm a snow-white virgin Itachi thought as he closed his door behind him. He slid into his chair and cupped his chin in his palm. Itachi heard the faint clinking of cutlery as the rest of the Akatsuki members finished up with dinner. Itachi sighed and averted his gaze down to his desk, where a few letters stood untouched and unread. He picked up the one on the top of the pile and slid a pale finger beneath the flap and opened the envelope. A scent of lavender wafted up, tickling his nostrils. Itachi wrinkled his nose a little. Then he extracted the letter, which was written on a smooth piece of card.

Interesting.

He saw an insignia on one side of the card: it was an orb of some sort. Itachi ignored it and flipped it over to read the message. Itachi's eyes widened in surprised delight as he read the message.

Deidara kicked off his slippers as he settled into his bed. He felt something beneath his butt and reached underneath to get it. It was a clay hawk. Deidara dusted it on the seat of his pants and blew on it before tossing it lightly onto his desk. He yawned, cupping a hand over his open mouth and stretching his arms out. It was early, yet he felt so tired.

"Deidaraaaaa,"

Deidara was rubbing his eyes hard when Hidan's voice boomed down the hallway. Deidara sighed and hid his feet back in his slippers. There was something about Hidan that made Deidara hide as much of his precious flesh as possible.

"Hello, Hidan," he said, keeping his voice leveled. His past conversations with Hidan seemed to always end in how much of a puny bitch Hidan thought Deidara was, and Deidara just nodding and agreeing because he couldn't be bothered arguing with someone whose ego probably made up for his…endowment.

Hidan walked in and plunked his ass beside Deidara, unfazed by the fact his broad shoulder was brushing Deidara's.

"I need someone to talk to," Hidan explained, not looking at Deidara much, instead playing around with the belt thing around his waist. Was it just Deidara, or did Hidan look…slightly embarrassed?

"I don't usually ask favours," Hidan steamrolled ahead. "But, you know, with V-day and all, I just—,"

He stopped abruptly and gnawed on his lip. Deidara snuck a glance at him. The ends of Hidan's silvery hair looked paler than usual.

"I'm, like, twenty-something," Hidan said. "I don't want to spend Valentine's Day alone for the twenty-something-th time in a row,"

"It's okay, Hidan, I know how old you are…,"

"I just need someone," Hidan blurted, purposefully ignoring Deidara's comment about his age. "Everyone needs someone, r..right?"

Hidan looked so awkward it was almost cute, and it almost made Deidara reach out and hug him. Almost.

"Right," Deidara answered slowly. It was still kind of hard for him to fathom that here was Hidan, the Jashinist, was here asking him for help and practically pouring his heart out. Deidara wriggled his toes in his slippers and let the silence cloak over them.

"So what do you want exactly?"

"Someone to spend it with?" Hidan said, as if Deidara had just asked if the moon was round. He stared at the blonde before the implication of his statement set into the atmosphere and he blinked a few times, blushing slightly. "I..I mean, isn't it obvious?"

Deidara's knit his eyebrows in confusion. "So you're asking me what?"

"To…," Hidan trailed off and looked at Deidara. Usually, you could smell what Hidan was thinking from a mile away. But tonight, the murky depths of his eyes were difficult to decipher. Deidara scratched his nose because of the awkwardness caused by Hidan's unfinished sentence. Hidan leaned in closer to Deidara. Dangerously close. His lips moved slightly, quivering. Deidara's eyes focused on those lips. They twitched, as if to say something, but then Hidan's head dropped, he growled in annoyance and he drew away.

"I can't," he said, as if that explained everything. "Just can't fucking believe it,"

The next morning, Itachi was gone and Sasori was up before anyone else. His eyes, with their permanent expression of blank woe, scanned the contents of the Akatsuki's fridge, looking for something to eat. Practicing with his puppets didn't require strenuous movement, but it always made him peckish. He'd been so carried away he'd forgotten to visit Deidara.

Sasori's eyes landed on an unmarked tub. He inspected it from the outside, but it was made from a foggy sort of plastic that made it impossible to see what was inside. He peeled back the orange lid and recoiled instantly, flinging the container away from him in disgust.

"Fuck that," he said under his breath. He had no idea what it was, and he didn't want to know. He looked around the kitchen, opened some drawers and swore again. He glanced back at the offending container in the open fridge.

"Here,"

Sasori was crouching, and he looked up to see Hidan's uncovered arm handing him a pair of stainless steel tongs. Just what he'd been looking for.

Sasori seized the tongs without a word and quickly clamped them around the container and flung it into the bin. Then he handed the tongs back to Hidan.

"What wazzat?" Hidan chirped, annoyingly chipper for 6 am in the morning. He played with the tongs, opening and closing it, as if applying the tongs to the air. He hitched himself up on the counter. Sasori said nothing and located another container, which housed a leftover can of corned beef. The puppeteer sniffed it just to be sure.

Then again he thought as he re-closed the lid of the container. You can never be sure of what exactly is in the Akatsuki fridge. For all Sasori knew, the corned beef was finely diced ligament or something. He sighed a little in frustration, the emptiness of his stomach becoming more and more apparent for every second that ticked by. He put a hand over his stomach.

"D'you want breakfast?" Hidan asked, still playing with the tongs. He peered at Sasori with one eyebrow cocked, the only part of that facial expression he wore at that moment that resembled the normal, typical Hidan. The rest was too kind. His lips weren't turned up in a sneer of contempt, his eyes were far from disdainful and… Sasori shrugged.

"Yeah,"

"I'll make it," Hidan offered. He slid off the counter and tossed the tongs into the sink with a loud, metallic clang. The noise seemed to make him do a sort of inner double take, coming to the realization he was being nice. "I mean, you're being really slow…and all that," Hidan sucked in air from the side of his mouth, glancing nervously at Sasori, who was tapping his fingers almost lazily against the countertop. Not an ounce of gratitude was locatable in his heavily lashed eyes.

Hidan walked around him carefully and made a show of looking in the fridge. He was about to ask Sasori if poached eggs on toast was alright, but why would he? Why would Hidan ask someone what they prefer, and cook to their preferences?

"I'm making poached eggs and you're gonna like it," Hidan managed. Sasori was still tapping his fingers. Hidan put the egg carton on the counter. He awkwardly retrieved the tongs from the sink.

"Um...if you're bored," he said. He saw Sasori stifle what seemed to be a chuckle, then turned around to face the stove.