Work Text:
The air in Konoha’s Crusty Corner was warm and smelled of cinnamon, a welcome shield against the biting autumn wind outside.
Matsuri leaned her elbows on the glass counter, watching the two regulars. Usually, they were bickering loud enough to rattle the display cases, but today the silence between them was heavy with a different kind of tension.
Two hands reached out at the exact same moment.
Deidara’s fingers, dusted with a bit of dried yellow clay, stopped just short of the glass. Right next to them were Sasori’s: pale, steady, and impeccably clean. Between them, sitting solitary on a parchment lace doily, was the very last ginger-miso glazed donut.
“Danna,” Deidara started, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He didn’t look up, his blonde fringe shadowing his eyes. “I really… I had a rough one at the studio today. My kiln cracked.”
Sasori’s hand didn't move, but his posture shifted. He was usually so rigid, but he leaned just a fraction of an inch closer to Deidara. He looked at the slight tremor in the younger man’s fingers. The sign of a long, frustrating day of failed projects.
“The glaze on this one is supposed to be calming,” Sasori muttered. He wasn’t looking at the donut anymore; he was looking at the tired slump of Deidara’s shoulders. “Ginger is good for stress.”
Matsuri cleared her throat gently. “It’s the last one of the batch, guys. I could flip a coin?”
“No,” Sasori said, finally pulling his hand back. He tucked it into the pocket of his heavy trench coat. “Give it to him, Matsuri. And put a large hot chocolate on my tab. Extra marshmallows.”
Deidara blinked, finally looking up. His blue eyes were wide with genuine surprise. “Wait, Danna? You’ve been talking about this specific flavor since Tuesday. You said the texture was the only thing in this town worth your time.”
“I changed my mind,” Sasori said, though he didn’t quite meet Deidara’s gaze. He turned toward their usual small table by the frosted window. “Don’t make it a thing, Deidara. Just sit down.”
Matsuri smiled, boxing the donut with a bit more care than usual. She slid it across to Deidara along with the steaming cup of cocoa. “He’s been waiting for you to get here for twenty minutes, you know,” she whispered. “He didn’t even look at the other pastries.”
Deidara’s cheeks flushed a soft pink. He took the box and the drink, walking over to the table where Sasori was already watching the leaves swirl in the street outside.
Instead of sitting across from him, Deidara slid into the chair right next to him. He opened the box, the sweet, spicy scent filling the small space between them.
“I’m not eating the whole thing by myself,” Deidara said firmly. He tore the donut in half (not perfectly, but carefully) and held the larger piece out to Sasori. “I know you had a long day too. I saw the blueprints you were obsessing over this morning.”
Sasori looked at the piece of dough, then at Deidara. The blonde was offering a small, lopsided smile. The kind he only used when it was just the two of them.
“You’re getting sugar on my sleeve,” Sasori grumbled, but there was no bite in it. He reached out and took the half-donut, his fingers lingering against Deidara’s palm for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
“It’s good, right?” Deidara asked, taking a bite of his own half and sighing in relief.
Sasori chewed slowly, the warmth making him relax. “It’s… acceptable," he whispered, a small, rare ghost of a smile touching his lips. “Better than the cocoa, at least.”
Deidara laughed, nudging his shoulder against Sasori’s. “Liar. You love the marshmallows.”