It has to be some kind of scheme of the cosmos that has made this the last chapter of TFL. If you're wondering, there is indeed room for me to write a sequel, but we'll give it some time before I think about it. I'd rather not ruin what I've done with a shitty second helping, you know?
I don't think it needs an epilogue. I like where it leaves off. But if you ask for one, I might deliver?
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of D. Gray – Man. If I did… they would likely all be gay. But Cross. He's too straight to be gay.
WARNINGS: Allen's last attempt at being seme.
PLEASE DO NOT HATE ME! I'M SORRY! :'O
-- -- --
Name: Kanda, Yuu
Mission Date: June 11, 1889
The events of the date in question [June 11, 1889] pertaining to
destruction of the main entrance hall, the deaths of  Finders,  Scientists, and
 Civilian [official counts].
The members of my
party entered through the front of the building. Once inside, we
greeted by a small number of comrades. Hiroko Kanda [protectorate order enforced] left
for a tour of the main felicities while Hitori Kanda [protectorate order
nullified/deceased] was taken by Exorcist Sable Adair to see Supervisor Komui Lee about
recruitment to the Science Department.
Kanda stopped typing. Not only was strange to type a report, it was also strange to type a report about something that had happened more than three months ago. Most of all, it was strange to be typing about his brother's death. Almost as soon as the sigh was out of his mouth Allen was behind him, mismatched hands pressed to the samurai's shoulders, leaning over the top of him. Kanda closed his eyes to the touch and tilted into it as the younger man began to knead at his muscles with bruising force, driving out the knots that ran the length of his spine, and pulling a very soft sound from his lips. Pleasant pain danced from the sides of his shoulders to the base of his neck, and Kanda growled, more than enjoying the press of hard fingers against his sore, tired muscles.
The hands stopped abruptly and he opened his eyes, curious.
"You wrote facilities as felicities. Might want to change that," Allen remarked with a little downward glance that showed soft silver eyes and an annoyingly wide smile, strangely short hair that Kanda hadn't yet grown used to. He looked even stranger upside down, his hair all sideways and sticking out and foreign. The Japanese man had never had a preference for hair, not really, but he like familiar things – this look was unfamiliar. "Kanda?"
"Che. I haven't read through it. I'll do it later." He reached up and rubbed at his eyes, sore from staring at the screen. "Like after I write the rest of it."
"You've got that much after four hours?"
"Shut up. I don't know where to start."
Allen smiled lopsidedly and slithered forward, running his palms down the samurai's chest until his chin came into contact with his lover's shoulder, hands resting on the keys. Kanda looked up at the computer screen, lifting his head from the back of the chair in the processes, and waited for a moment to see what the boy would do.
One by one letters began to pop up on the screen as Allen's fingers wandered across the keys, punching lightly.
Work faster! I can't
say lewd things to you with all of these scientists lurking
wanting to know if I'm ACTUALLY encouraging you or just taking up time.
Kanda snorted and scooted Allen's hands away from the keyboard and started up two lines lower.
I don't like
writing. I don't like TYPING. Give me some insentive. Insendive?
Allen chuckled into the samurai's ear before responding.
Honey never expires. P:
"Hya! Yes!?" The British boy turned and rocked against Kanda's seat, smashing the Japanese man into his keyboard as he fought to compose himself in front of one of the newest additions to the staff, a Chinese man Allen couldn't remember the name of. He heard lots of clicking behind him, though he guessed that most of it was the delete or backspace button, obliterating what he and Kanda had unwittingly put out for others to see. It was the best he could hope for.
"What are you doing at the moment?"
"Spell checking!" He chimed at once, and threw a glance over his shoulder to find Kanda typing GET OFF MY CHAIR in slightly too-large letters. Allen did just that, leaning slightly forward, still grinning idiotically, and waited for the sound of clicking to pause before he turned back to Kanda, leaning slightly less low than before.
A new paragraph had materialized while he had had his back turned.
During this time, a
seismic event of unknown cause or proportion collapsed a
section of the hall and a number of basement floors below it. Thinking that we might have
been under attack, I drew my weapon [Equipment Type: Sword: Mugen] in preparation.
The blade was removed from my hand by a means I do not understand: I had suffered a
head injury. To my understanding, the Innocence in question eventually caused the death
of Hitori Kanda [Civilian].
"Wow… that's so… boring…"
He turned back again, smiling at the scientist one more time. "Yes?"
"Thank you for your assistance today."
"Oh…" Allen cocked his head to the side, knowing that he was lying. "You're very welcome."
Kanda continued to tap at the keys until the scientist moved away and Allen turned back to him, placing his hands once more on the Japanese man's shoulders. The room was more than half-filled with people typing at computer terminals (due to the shortage of report paper), those who had already finished proctoring their comrades and checking for consistencies. It might have been the largest cover-up scheme since the disaster with the Fallen, and even that had had the approval of those above. Now, with more people writing false reports than there were pens in the Order, Kanda couldn't feel terrible about lying like the rest of them, though he found himself a bit reluctant to lie about his brother's death. Telling the truth, however, seemed like an absolutely horrible way to be sure that Allen and Lenalee murdered him – and the word of every other 'witness' was against him. It just wasn't worth it.
He kept telling himself that.
Shortly after, the commotion stopped. I was moved to the medical ward and treated for my injuries. I returned to full duty the following day.
These are the events of June 11, 1889 and are, to my knowledge, completely true.
He looked at the last part and rolled his eyes. He was supposed to write some kind of promise to suffer in Hell for all eternity if he was perjuring himself, to make the whole thing ring true, but he didn't particularly feel like writing it out as planned. What did it matter? He was damned by the Vatican's standards at least three times over – between Allen, his own lack of belief, and sex, this really was a very idiotic thing to try and make him worry over. He felt his lips lift into a soft smile.
And I don't give a fuck if you think Hell is a good threat to make people tell the truth, this is the truth. Learn to trust your God given subordinates, you stupid assholes.
That was perfect.
"Kanda, you cannot turn it in that way." Allen said from behind him, glancing back and forth to be sure that no one read it over his shoulder.
"Why not?" Kanda shot back at once, not looking at him.
"I've worked here for thirteen years, I'm the only one who can use Mugen, and you really think I'll get in trouble for this?"
"They might stick you on rations."
"Che." Kanda tilted his head to the side, rereading the line again. "Whatever." He typed the word please before learn. That was nice. It kind of screwed up the flow, but he wasn't being as rude as before, not really. He smiled crookedly to himself and made to print it, only Allen took a gentle hold of his hands and pulled them away from the keyboard. He looked up at him, curious what he wanted.
"You can have some of my soba, if they only let you have rice for three weeks." Allen said with a smile. Kanda smiled back at him a little, just enough for the British boy to see the little lifting of his lips on the sides, an appreciative expression. "And now I want to kiss you… I think that might make everyone who still thinks we're touchy-feely friends see the truth though." He whispered, and Kanda reached up to take him by the back of the neck and pull him lower. Allen resisted slightly, looking both ways with eyes that showed his reluctance, cheeks slightly blushing. "Yuu…I'm not an exhibitionist…"
"Neither am I."
"I do like to make you blush."
"Prick." Allen half-growled, but his eyes stayed the same soft silver. That was a part of Allen that had only showed itself in the past few weeks, the part that said things beyond the realm of teasing and more toward the side of mean. Kanda didn't mind it – he knew that there was some part of his lover that wanted to be just as selfish and rude as the rest of the world – it gave him a small incite into just how much cursing the British Exorcist retained. Besides, eing called a prick, a bastard, or a campy nancy was perfectly fine – it was the word pretty that he didn't enjoy.
Kanda pulled down a little further, though still not close enough to touch lips. "After I hit print what are we going to do?" He asked, very softly, running his fingers through the back of Allen's hair.
"Leave the room. Kiss you in the hall. Skip around like we're newlyweds again."
"Lavi wanted the four of us to get together for exercise; apparently he's tired of having Tyki beat the living crap out of him and wants a new partner."
"It's not like he doesn't enjoy it."
"I know." Allen made an awkward face, curling his lips back from his teeth. "Or we can go have a quiet meal in the forest and…" He paused, pushing his lips together, and narrowed his suddenly slightly golden eyes, an expression that no longer made Kanda tense against his palms. "I'm getting the mental image of a blindfold, a tree, and a rope – which part of that is you and which part of that is my own twisted idea of what you want?" He went on, eyebrows pushed together over his eyes.
"The blindfold and the tree are mine, if that gives you an idea." Kanda admitted, but he still grinned back at him. "Not a bad idea though. Knock Lavi around for a few rounds before we go outside and—" He narrowed his eyes suddenly and his hand closed almost painfully on the back of Allen's neck. "And you're still too close, Walker. I can't work with you hovering."
For a moment Allen thought about being hurt, and then his eyes wandered to the side, spotting a pair of medium-sized slipper-clad feet next to them. "Sorry, Kanda." He chimed at once and pulled away, expecting to see some scientist looking at him with large, scandalized eyes.
He almost ran into Sable's stomach as he made to step away.
"Well, if it isn't the obviously gay duo wasting time on a bullshi—er—erroneously important report." She sighed at them, a long, thin smile spread across her lips.
The blonde, now more pregnant than looked comfortable, rocked on her feet for a moment, laying her hands over her belly. Without explanation she reached out and took Allen's right hand in hers and placed it there also, the little smile widening by the moment, almost creepily. "I was walking – because I'm supposed to walk, they won't let me proctor – and the baby started poking me with it's feet when I saw you, so why not have a feel of your soon-to-be-relative, hm?" As soon as she said it Allen's eyes widened dramatically, his mouth slightly open in surprise. "See? I think it likes its uncles."
Kanda hit the print button and moved to straddle his chair, looking up at the shocked white haired boy and the grinning blond with a lifted eyebrow. Sable looked down at him and continued to smile. The hair of her bangs fell around her eyes and, for a moment, he saw a little flicker of something besides happiness behind her expression – an insight he never would have made before – and then it was gone, erased by the little sound Allen made of absolute delight. Kanda looked back to his lover and watched his face split into a grin so wide it negated the fact that the samurai knew he had a brain – too happy to be logical.
"It kicked me!" Allen chimed with no lack of enthusiasm whatsoever. "Kanda, don't make that face, you want kids, I'm sure. Feel it." His encouragement was nothing short of predatory.
"Che. I'll feel it when there isn't a layer of Sable between me and it." He growled at once, eyeing the bulge in Sable's shirt wearily. It wasn't as if such things were strange to him, and it wasn't the white fabric of her baggy men's shirt that stopped him – it was something entirely indescribable and freaky that he could not explain.
Allen frowned. "You are no fun. Really, it feels like it's flicking me." He turned back to Sable and showed all of his teeth, letting his hand fall slowly away from her stomach. She didn't seem to notice, so he let his eyes wander back to his lover accusingly. "How about you talk to it then? It is genetically related to you, after all. For all we know, it will have your eyes, hair, and Hitori's temperament. Maybe Sable's wit, I hope." He took Kanda's rather unresponsive left hand in his right and pressed it to the top of the blonde girl's stomach, aware that his lover sighed almost dejectedly. "Or it could have Sable's looks, your wit, Hitori's frame, and be male."
"Kanda has wit?"
"If he doesn't want to he doesn't have to. Some people think pregnancy is creepy." Sable offered, but Allen continued to hold his lover's hand in place, ignoring the deep scowl that took his Kanda's features.
Silence settled between them for a moment. Allen pretended that it wasn't awkward.
With a curse, Kanda yanked his hand back, his eyes widened and his mouth open as if mystified. He drew his hand into his lap, rubbing at his palm, blinking. "Blegh…"
Allen laughed softly. "You're cute, Lo—er…Kanda."
-- -- --
Lavi signed his name, taking care to dot the i with a small, shaded heart before he closed the logbook and scooted it across the table, watching it move as if it wasn't his hand that pushed it. It was strange. The library, where he had spent many hours reading books that pertained to the current state of the world, where he had studied newspapers and learned at least one new language, now held this memory, of the last log he would ever write, the last one he would ever sign. It was odd to write it all down in detail, bias, if only because it had been him that went through it, but it was even stranger to watch the old man pick it up and glare at him without menace. A hand came down on Lavi's shoulder; Bookman's face did not react at all.
"Fool." It was something he'd been called a lot in his life, the nickname that surpassed all other personas. It made him smile.
"I know." Lavi breathed, and cocked his head slightly to the side. The hand, large and tan in the yellowish overhead lights, that had come down on his shoulder from behind squeezed lightly and he touched it, his way of reassuring his lover that this was all they could have hoped for. The set of eyes in front of him, ringed in black, looked at that hand before going back to his face, studying his smile. Lavi didn't let it waver for even a moment. "It's not your fault, Gramps." He said very quietly, even though the words wouldn't mean much to the Bookman. Couldn't. "Really, if you did anything else, you'd screw up the war." He added with a softer expression.
The old man just looked once again between the Noah and the once apprentice Bookman, face unreadable. "You could have been good at this." It was the only regret he would show. "Very good."
Lavi only shook his head as if defeated. "No, I couldn't. You might think it's a problem with this me, but it's not anymore. Even if you made me, me again… I might walk away from this war, but the next one would hit me just as hard." He bit is lip. "Maybe I wouldn't fall in love with someone… but memories…"
Bookman narrowed his eyes at the redhead and the boy shut up at once. Tyki lowered his hand a little, pressing it to his lover's chest.
"Don't do anything else this stupid, Fool." The old man said almost indifferently, and pulled the log book into his lap. He'd already read it upside down as Lavi laid each painful letter into place, and growled when the thought the words picked didn't convey what had happened, but rather why or how it happened. Just writing down what did occur left those things to be obvious – conjecturing, writing about how frightening things were – it added unnecessary details that could be interpreted to mean pointless things in the future.
"I'll do my best, Gramps," Lavi nodded, and pushed back his chair. Tyki moved aside slightly, allowing him to stand up and hold his arms out the terribly short man in front of him. "Can I get a goodbye hug?"
"Idiot!" That was another term of endearment. "You think I can leave this war unrecorded? Don't be preposterous!" Bookman turned, clutching the book to his chest, and made to walk out, moving abnormally fast on his short legs and tiny feet.
Lavi waved with something like a sad expression. "Yeah…" He breathed, as the library door swung shut. "I'll miss you, too." He sat slowly back down.
Tyki's hand came back upward, touching the top of his head, and then tilted it slowly back, curling in his hair. The kiss was crooked, though not upside down, and Lavi closed his eye to it. The Noah's hand slithered to the skin of his neck. When they pulled away it was mutual, and forced by the need for air rather than the want of less touching, and Lavi held the older man in place, eye still softly closed.
"Are you sad, dear?" The Noah questioned against his lips in a breath. "I can't feel that you are."
Lavi shook his head softly, drawing his lower lip tenderly between his teeth for a moment before he spoke again. "I'm… relieved. He didn't even try to order me to leave you." His hands shook slightly as he pressed them to his lover's back. Tyki moved closer gradually, then finally pulled the boy out of the chair to lean against him, arms wrapped around the redhead's ribcage.
"If he had—"
"He didn't. Leave it."
Tyki nodded, his hands slipping down Lavi's back a bit until he touched the small of it, holding him loosely yet firmly, face turned down into his hair. It reminded the Noah a bit of standing together in Durnshire, holding each other with enough emotion that he soon forgot where one part of Lavi ended and another began. It was as close as they could be with clothes on, and here, in the library, that was enough. "What now, Amante? How do you think the reports are going?" He questioned into his lover's scalp, then snickered lightly at the brush of a tickling breath against his throat, released from Lavi's nose.
"Komui said that no one they talked to seemed to insist on telling the truth. There were three Finders who saw what you turned into – he threatened to make them MIA if they insisted on sticking to that story." Lavi chuckled, a sound that didn't usually go with that sort of story. "It's strange. He wouldn't normally say something like that unless he was defending Lenalee."
Tyki smiled a little wider. "It's a good thing then. I hear his sister complex needs to be dissipated."
Lavi snorted but didn't answer, continuing to lean on his lover with his face just where his breath touched skin. It was comfortable for some reason, to let his weight rest like that. "Allen and I were thinkin' of going down and hitting each other around a little, if you wanna come. If Yuu's there he might try and put you in the hospital wing though, so… I suggest not letting him fight you." He smiled at the little tightening of Tyki's arms around his back.
"And you know this how?"
"The one time I beat him – the one time – he kicked my feet out from under me during my victory dance and I sprained my ankle."
The Noah laughed.
"Really? I think it is." Tyki continued with a soft oof at Lavi's left fist hitting him softly in the gut. It hadn't even been a real attempt to cause harm, but he reigned in his amusement to a near silent chuckle. After a few short moments of simply leaning, Tyki guided the boy back a bit, looking him in the eye rather than studying his hair. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. If you can beat him, surely I can also."
Lavi mumbled something that might have been jerk before pulling completely away, only to take the Noah by the hands a moment later. He swung his arms back and forth almost childishly, holding firmly to Tyki's fingers. "In any case, let's go. I don't feel like moping. Wanna see if we can walk down to the practice rooms without having anyone glare at us? Or go outside for a little. I think we can go outside. If we ask nicely." A very enthusiastic look came to his face then, bright and almost boyish, an echo of one of his old smiles, before anything had happened to him. Those looks had become more common as time went on, no longer rare now, no longer haunted, no longer remotely forced. It made Tyki lift the corner of his mouth just thinking about it. That expression was for him, no matter how he looked at it.
"Something tells me you'd like to go outside," Tyki observed, and lifted his right hand to run it through the boy's hair. It was something he never tired of, watching it play in the yellowish lights. "You could use some sun, you're loosing that wonderful tan you had when I met you."
"Are you mocking me?"
"I can kind of make out your freckles."
"You cannot. I don't have any."
"What are these then?" The Noah questioned, touching the bridge of his lover's nose. He traced a slow pattern to the boy's cheek bones, grinning at his lover's frown. "Fairy kisses?"
"I don't have freckles!" Lavi insisted, shaking his head back and away from Tyki's fingers. "Not since I was tiny. They faded."
His lover rolled his eyes. "Or they turned into one giant freckle from being in the sun."
"Are you flushed dear? Why would that be?"
"Your fingers tickle." Lavi said at once, which was half true, the touch was too light to qualify as anything but a tickle. He pulled his head back and batted away Tyki's hand before capturing it once more, his grin somewhat dimmed with irritation. "So, can we go? Or you wanna stay here and tease me some more?" There was a little cock of his eyebrow when he said that, just enough to be seen, and Tyki laughed at him softly, and Lavi found himself swept up in a kiss, deep and seeking. The tongue that pressed teasingly into his, the hand that cupped the underside of his jaw, none of it surprised him, not even the brush of the taller man's hair against his face. When they parted, he smiled again, just as wide as before.
-- -- --
Kanda let out a deep, tired sigh and looked down at the things Allen had handed to him, curious if he was expected to carry everything himself. A blanket, a short length of soft, black cloth, a basket Kanda didn't know the origin of, food that he had watched come out of places in his room that he hadn't known existed – it was getting ridiculous. When two extra shirts, a bottle of oil, a rag, and Mugen were added to his hands, he shifted his weight and shook his hair back from his face, choosing to look at the ceiling rather than at his lover when he spoke.
"Che. Is this a picnic or a fucking camping trip?"
"Well, that depends how much oil we have left and what you can do with the supplies." Allen responded at once, flashing him a smile before wandering off to some other dark place in the room where he most likely had food.
"Call it a fucking picnic if you want?" The British boy suggested as he appeared again, holding both of their coats. What they would need those for in the forest behind the tower was well beyond Kanda's understanding, but he didn't do anything but give his lover an incredulous look that, if directed at anyone else, might have been mistaken for a glare. "Love, it'll be fun! It's not raining, only mildly cool, and you know as well as I do that we're not going to have this opportunity again before missions start…" He reached out, coats in his left hand, and hooked Kanda in an awkward standing hug, the stuff between them, his fingers on the back of the samurai's neck.
Kanda didn't have to think when he leaned down just a bit and brushed his lips across his lover's, almost teasing. When he pulled away the boy smiled, memories dancing behind his eyes. For only a brief moment, the samurai tried to understand what memory it was that Allen was recalling, but wasn't quite sure – he couldn't be sure without putting more concentration into it than he was willing to at the moment. Plus there was always the off chance that Allen would notice him trying and say something teasing, which was never what the samurai wanted. He felt himself frown at the thought.
"Our first mission together…" Allen said softly, toying with the tassels of Kanda's ponytail. "That was the first time I saw you with your hair down, wasn't it?" He almost giggled, but the sound lacked the proper volume. "If I'd only known then what I know now – when you were resting and didn't seem to care what was going on unless you could hear it – I would have braided it. Though you might have killed me, I think."
"Che." Kanda couldn't repress the quirk of his lips but he could keep from smiling like an idiot if he tried. Their first mission – now that was a memory. If he'd known the things he knew now, he doubted he'd have believed them. Sleeping with and loving such a naïve, stupid, pigheaded, annoying person? He might have laughed. "I would have. Or tried. Where is this coming from, anyway, just feel like reminiscing?" The hand in his hair moved higher, pressing at the curve of his neck.
Allen's mouth found the middle of his throat them moved in a slow, warm line to his pulse, then up to the turn of his jaw. Those movements were purposeful, and the little touch to the Japanese man's windpipe it not go unappreciated, nor did the sound he made, a little sigh of encouragement in the back of his throat. The British boy pulled his mouth away but left his lips touching skin, Kanda's arms seemed to shake with the weight they still carried. "I was thinking that your bangs would hang to your nose if they weren't all wet. You used to keep them right by your eyebrows. I noticed that about you when we on our first mission – they were the same as they had been even when I first met you. But now…" He reached up and pulled his lover's fringe forward, a little crooked smile curling his lips as it fell to Kanda's nostrils.
"Your laziness has rubbed off on me."
"I think my everything has rubbed off on you."
"Kanda! Don't knee me there, you might break something!"
"Che. You'd still have the important part."
Allen scowled playfully, "My heart, right? If you say it's my ass I'll kick you."
Kanda matched the boy's expression with a soft grin, shifting the bundle in his arms a bit, the better to lean closer to his lover. "Well, I suppose that makes two important parts, doesn't it. Now… you're…" He stopped, head tilted to the side, eyebrows pressed together in an expression of curiosity. Whatever it was that had been on his mind leaked right out of his open mouth and he started to say something entirely different. "Much closer… to my face when you were then. I can just…" He leaned a bit more until his mouth found Allen's in smiling kiss, the British boy still flat on his feet, Kanda hardly lean at all. It was a touch just for the sake of it, fast and deliberate, and the older man shook his bangs from his face when they parted, slightly hunched forward still. "I'll quit calling you Moyashi and start calling you tatenaga if you keep getting taller."
The British boy frowned, but didn't say a word, only leaned forward to nuzzle his face into the warm turn of his lover's throat. He kept himself that way for a long moment, regardless of how Kanda became against him. "Still love you, Kanda." He breathed, a little laugh on his lips. "And I will, no matter what you call me. Even if it's oblong or beanpole." He emphasized with a touch of his mouth against his lover's Adam's apple.
The Japanese man shivered and rocked back on his feet, looking down at the British Exorcist with something like regret behind his eyes. "If you keep doing that we won't even make it outside."
"You taste nice…"
"Fuck, Allen—" Mugen clattered at his feet as the boy pushed him backward, pressing him against the dresser. Kanda grappled with his burden, trying to keep all of it in his hands as the younger man sucked and nibbled at his throat, undoubtedly leaving bruises, humming appreciatively in his throat. The Japanese man didn't used to like that, but now he did, liked it to the point that his knees felt weak at the press of teeth on the tendon on the left side of his neck. "Mo…yash…i…"
Allen pushed the bundle in his lover's hands downward, as if encouraging him to drop it, and, when the burden toppled to the floor, sank with it, dragging his open mouth down the length of his lover's chest, breathing through the fabric of his shirt, his hands looped up in the back of the samurai's clothes. At once Kanda knew what he was thinking and pulled him up again, or tried to, before a rough hand – that hand – slipped into his pants, knowing exactly what it wanted.
"Wasn't the idea – outside – not—"
"Let me taste you," Allen had never been so bold. He pushed himself up and kissed his lover wetly on the mouth before sinking down to his knees, pulling at Kanda's belt. "Four hours in that stupid lab… pretending not to be thinking about this… and—" He moved from belt to buttons and coaxed Kanda's manhood from within the folds in his pants, already half-aroused. "I haven't done this for you in forever, you're too bad about taking turns." His fingers cupped his lover's erection and brushed his lips over the skin of Kanda's right him, breathing from his nose so the air spread downward, threading through his fingers and playing against the heated skin beneath them. The Japanese man groaned softly, and leaned back on the dresser with a shiver.
Kanda's hands tangled in the British boy's hair in an effort to drag him closer. He choked out a moan at the slow brush of a tongue on the inside of his left thigh, between leg and arousal, teasing him harder. It made him quake again, head tilted against the dresser behind him. "Allen—fuck, the door's not—" Kanda silenced himself at the slow, moist heat suddenly wrapped around the head of his length, a tongue swirling at the edges. How long had it been? He honestly couldn't recall. All he knew was that the British Exorcist wasn't paying attention to him, his words and instead devoting his attention to what he was doing – and where he was putting his fingers. The samurai looked down at the soft silver eyes of his lover and watched the boy's reddened lips slip forward, wet, warm, knowing exactly where to stop to leave him under satisfied. Kanda felt his mouth fall open, a half-silent plea for more in his throat.
The white haired boy smiled without use of his mouth and moved forward, at the same moment he played his tongue against the vein at the front of his lover's erection, fluttering, and made a short hum in the back of his throat at the low, hungry sound it got him. Kanda, with his low ponytail fanned out over his shoulders, long bangs hanging wetly over his right eye, and fire burning behind his gaze, might have been one of the most magnificent things Allen had laid eyes on. Over the last few months, as summer grew warmer and then faded into fall, the younger boy had discovered his own like for spontaneous moments like this, and his enjoyment of that look on Kanda's face – complete and utter enjoyment. It didn't matter how often it happened really, or even if Kanda helped him with the unavoidable repercussions of his actions: the sight of his lover's face, so completely lost in sensation, was enough for Allen.
"Allen…" His name sounded so very different when spoken by those lips. "God—your mouth is so—" The British Exorcist hummed and Kanda shivered, fighting his legs for a moment as they threatened to drop him. "Mo…ya—"
The younger man pushed his lips as far forward as he could, and let his right hand slip down his own chest, across his stomach, and down to the bulge in his own pants, something that it seemed Kanda had yet to notice. A shaking whimper escaped the older man's lips as Allen stroked himself through his clothes and languidly worked his left hand and his mouth as one on his lover, matching pace with his hand. Even after nearly a year together he had never done this – pleasured himself in front of the samurai – but the reaction it got him – the wide quality to Kanda's eyes, the color rising in his cheeks, the curse words falling from his lips – made him think that it surely would again. It helped, of course, that Kanda could hold his hips more or less still and allow him the free hand with which to do it.
The button and zipper of his pants were hardly an obstacle, and soon Kanda found himself watching his lover do two very not-Allen-like things at once. As lecherous and lewd as he was in conversation, Kanda had never before imagined his lover getting off on getting him off – especially not in front of him. It was like something from a dream he would never have told Allen about – not in all of his life.
The younger man began to pull back and slid forward, a motion that made Kanda curse under his breath. Allen hummed at the words and rocked his hips against his own hand; his lover let out a sound that let the younger boy know that he didn't mind watching, his mouth open in a silent groan of desire. With an evil cock of his eyebrow, Allen bobbed his head forward and back, matching the movement with his hand, aware of just how well Kanda was blushing at him. It was all he could do to keep from asking the samurai if he liked watching, liked the thought of Allen enjoying him so fully.
"Allen…" Kanda's thighs twitched with the name, his back arched from the dresser, and his fingers dug into his lover's scalp, the rogue to his cheeks so dark the boy kneeling in front of him had to fight down a smile. The swirling motion of Allen's mouth, coupled with the push of his tongue, the drag of his teeth, the motion of his hand – Kanda shivered. All he had to do was watch that hand to make himself harder. "If it wouldn't..." The vibrating hum in the back of his lover's throat stole away his words and he bucked from against the boy's mouth, holding Allen's head with slightly too tight fingers. He reined himself in and the British boy pulled completely away, left hand still working at his lover's wet length.
Allen wiped his lips on his shoulder before he spoke in a cracked sort of voice. "You like to watch me, Love? I can see in your eyes that you do…" His red-black fingers worked the Japanese man's length, his thumb twirled over the top of it, moved down again, turned, moved up, the same pattern he had done with his mouth. "Should I finish it? Or would you like—"
"Yes," Kanda breathed down at the white haired Exorcist. "Do it. I want…" He swallowed, obviously fighting down a blush. "I want to see you do it."
The British boy smiled and kissed first the right and then the left of his lover's erection, then whined as if that wasn't enough for him, annoyed. Earnestly he pulled Kanda's heated flesh into his mouth and began to move his head back and forth, up and down, in a steady rhythm, matching it with his hand, looking up at the Japanese man with interested eyes. The press of his Kanda's arousal was impossibly hot in his mouth, and the whine in his throat so desperate and appreciative that Allen would have been a fool to ignore it, ignore the shallow, desperate way that the Japanese man breathed. His bangs, billowing out from his breath, caught the light in little ebony and blue streamers, shadowing his eyes, contrasting with the rouge of his cheeks. Allen hummed as low and loud as he could and watched those tangles of hair arch into the air as Kanda threw his head back, nearly banging it on the dresser.
There was a low, quavering sound in the back of Kanda throat, a sort of preamble to an actual verbal warning, and Allen moved his left hand down the base of his lover's erection and then to his neglected tentacles, pulling them away from the Japanese man's body and then pressing them back again, very carefully, aware of his fingernails.
Allen cut him off with a hum and stroked himself faster, as much as he could without losing concentration on what he was doing with his left hand and with his mouth. In the very back of his mind, beyond the part of him that just loved doing this and adored the little mewl of appreciation on Kanda's lips, he felt very grateful to be ambidextrous. And then the thought was gone, devoured by the salty taste of precum and the brush of his own thumb over the throbbing head of his erection.
Kanda looked down at him, mouthing words that had to air, and tugged at his hair almost painfully, arching away from the dresser.
He's beautiful like this… my Kanda…
"Al—" Kanda cut himself off at the encouraging movement of Allen's left hand and a sudden, undeniable increase in suction that made him squint his eyes shut and roll his hips, teetering on the edge of release. His lover hummed again, and the tight, hot pressure in his lower abdomen seemed to compound it self into a single too-strong knot, too much to bear. A strangled word – his lover's name – seeped through his lips as his arousal jerked in Allen's mouth, filling it with his release. The boy, to Kanda surprise and slight embarrassment, made a low sound of enjoyment as he swallowed what was given to him, pumping his right hand at a mad, deliciously needy pace. The samurai felt his knees buckle and slipped to the floor without thinking about it, and landed with his panting, flushed lover between his knees, bruised lips parted, left hand pressed to the floor to hold him up better.
The sight of it, Allen's hair sticking to his forehead with effort, his soft eyes raking Kanda's features as if for inspiration, was almost enough to make the older man hard all over again.
The British boy moaned out Yuu as he came and spilled partly into his right hand and partly onto the stone beneath his knees – mercifully missing the black rug just a foot behind him. He worked himself dry, holding Kanda's eyes, and finally let out a low, shuddering sigh when he was finished, left panting at the Japanese man's round dark eyes. For a moment, an awkward moment, he wondered if his lover was embarrassed for him. It was the only thing Allen could think to explain the painfully obvious blush on his lover's cheeks.
After a moment, the samurai reached out to him and gingerly, without touching the mess he had made or fumbling with his pants, Allen moved to his side, curling against the older man's chest without protest. It was cold and uncomfortable between the dresser behind them and the floor under them, but the younger boy could not find it in himself to care when Kanda folded him in an embrace, warm face on the side of his own. The brush of lips on his pulse, and the gentle, soft play of breath on his nape – they made him sigh.
"Where the fuck did that come from?" Kanda breathed against his lover's ear in an attempt to find a proper place to rest his head. They didn't fit quite perfectly anymore, not now that Allen was turning into a beanpole instead of a sprout. Inevitably the smaller teen leaned his head on Kanda's shoulder and Kanda in turn leaned his own against Allen's forehead. That, it seemed, still worked.
"Where did what come from?"
The question, spoken so innocently, almost made Kanda move to give his lover a disbelieving look. "The… touching yourself and… asking me if I…" His voice became very small, obviously flustered, "Want to watch you and… fuck..."
"I don't know…" Allen admitted with a little shrug, a smile on his lips. Part of him wanted to turn and look at his lover's face, just to see the color, but instead he reached out and took the samurai's hand in his clean one, squeezing it gently. "Why? Does it bother you?" He asked, though he already knew what Kanda would say, he thought.
"It was just…" The older man searched for words for a moment. "Kinky and strange and… hot… and very embarrassing—"
Allen nodded a little. "Ok. I won't do it anymore then."
"That's not what I meant…" Kanda mumbled, but didn't go on, obviously at his limit for sexual discussion at the moment. With a grumble that didn't quite drowned out Allen's giggle, he turned his face enough to press his lips to his lover's hair as he spoke. "So are we going to go outside or just sit here for a little?" He inquired, and his lover's thumb circled the back of his hand very softly, as if he wasn't even thinking about the touch.
"You know… I wonder, too."
-- -- --
It was well after lunch when Cross looked out the window and saw something he never thought he would lay eyes on, besides the sun shining in England in fall. The forest behind the tower was still green, being composed mostly of pines it was all year round, so the spot of blue against the earth toned ground stood out like a small island of sky in the middle of a sea of plants and dirt. On that spot of sky, shimmering in the warm sunlight, was the cloud of Allen walker's hair, and beside him, spread out like a long dark snake sunning itself, was the coil of Kanda's. The strangest part, however, wasn't that the two of them seemed entirely content to just sit there, as if enjoying their lawn, it was who – a few minutes ago – had joined them.
He hadn't imagined that the Noah would be let out of the building any time in the next a few thousand years, and yet there he was, with his redhead idiot, chatting it up with the brat. The idiot, the brat, the woman, and the Noah – within the same six feet of each other – and no one was dying.
Well, that was arguable. Everyone was dying. Some just went faster than others.
"You're looking awfully low for someone who's cloud gazing."
Cross ignored the words and brought a cigarette out of his pants pocket, scowling. What made the four of them able to do that – talk like completely neutral individuals? How come the Japanese boy, when Lavi hugged his lover, just sat there watching without even the slightest show of what he had thought only a few months ago? It didn't make sense. It made some sense for Allen to get along with Tyki, but Kanda? No. There was no good reason for him to make room on the blanket for the Portuguese man, nor was there reason for him to move away from the sword he had laid out beside him.
And then the samurai was pulling the brat into his lap, and he could almost hear the four of them laughing when Allen made a fuss over spilling the dango.
"Are you fucking deaf?"
"No," he smiled softly as the woman rolled up the brat's shirt sleeves and they settled down to cards – all four of them. If they thought rolling up Allen's sleeves would stop him from cheating, they had something else coming. "But I'm watching the four buggering boys play cards outside, if you'd like to watch." He shot a crooked glance over his shoulder but didn't focus on the room, then turned his eyes back out the window, lips crooked. Lavi had dealt.
"Che! Why would I care?"
"Because it's very human, Hiro." Such a simple answer, she didn't even respond while he took the time to drag from his cigarette and breathe the smoke out against the glass. "I think the four of them are just stupid enough to be smarter than all of the Grand Generals combined," he chuckled, and a pair of slim, warm hands curved around his stomach from behind, one of the few displays of caring that he had come to expect. His white button down wasn't much to wear with her body pressed against his back, but he didn't (for once) let his mind linger on things of that nature, too intent on what he was watching.
Hiroko watched with him. "Whore-chan looks taller."
"Your boy-daughter doesn't seem to mind."
"I… wonder how it is… that my Yuu can be that Yuu…" She trailed off and, as if on cue, Kanda gathered the cards he had in his hand and the deck and threw them at Tyki, who seemed to be winning too much for his own good. His mother almost laughed. "Playing cards with those two… but…"
"It isn't as if they haven't atoned for it, so I suppose it's alright."
Without thinking too much about what he was doing, Cross subtly switched her positions, draping his arms around her shoulders, completely indifferent to the fact that she had draped a sheet around her in a travesty of modesty. It made him smile a little, to see her doing things like that. It made him frown when she caught the tobacco from between his teeth and ground it out on the window sill.
"It's a bit depressing to think about, isn't it? The four of them," Cross observed softly. "They have this little shred of understanding, of forgiveness, and yet they aren't going to be able to enjoy it much longer."
"That's how things are, idiot." Hiroko stated quite clearly, touching his arm with her fingers of her own will. "Every time you say something that makes me happy, you do something stupid that pisses me the fuck off about three minutes later." Her smile reflected oddly against the glass of the window, very crooked, yet perfectly sincere. "But then… you always make it right again, only to fuck it up the next time the chance comes along."
He turned his face against her hair and smelled it, but went no further than that. Perhaps it was a bit silly of him to lean down to place his chin on her head, but he didn't particularly care – couldn't. The warmth of her skin, the touch of her hair, the scent of her – those things reined in his urge to run and his knowledge that this wasn't something that he would have indulged in before. He was tired. It was the only explanation he could think of that proved to him why it was that she made him want to just be together for days on end – no adventure or mystery. Whether she noticed or not, he couldn't be certain.
He could be certain that outside, Allen was being beaten to death with a picnic basket, wielded awkwardly by Kanda's hands.
"What the hell for?"
Cross let his lips curve up in a large, crooked smile that he aimed at nothing. Temporarily taking away their happiness, among other things. "I'll be leaving soon, and so will you."
"Yeah but…" Hiroko did not say sappy things but, at this moment, it seemed she was willing to make an exception. "You'll come crawling back to me. I'm just that good."
"Of course, Hiro. I'd be a fool not to."
-- -- --
"Ow! Ow! Yuu-chan!"
"Stop. Calling. Me. Yuu-chan!"
It seemed rather easy for them to fall back into their old roles, for Lavi to do the little things that would always annoy Kanda and for the samurai to retaliate with something like a grin on his lips, slightly less violently than he used to. For the most part the Japanese man stuck to punching his fellow nineteen year old, which resulted in bruises but not blood loss, which seemed to be more to Lavi's enjoyment at the moment. Quietly, as the two once again evacuated the picnic blanket in a flurry of suddenly freed hair, flying fists, playing cards, and giggles, Allen cocked his head to the side and watched, completely at ease with the situation. Beside him Tyki let out a sigh, face turned up toward the sunlight.
Lavi wasn't much of a card player, so it was a bit more fun to watch him wrestle with Kanda on the grass beside the blanket, even if the redhead generally lost. He was still a little thin, gawky even, but it didn't decrease his spirit at all – or the Japanese man's obvious willingness to crush him like a bug beneath his boot. Allen winced in sympathy when Kanda hit the larger framed Exorcist in the gut just hard enough to rid him of his air, then stood up, taking his hair tie back in the process.
"But you love me, Yuu-chan!"
"Are you deaf as well as stupid?!"
"If I am will you hit me again?" There was a pause in which Allen watched the once-apprentice Bookman start to smile. "Please?"
Kanda made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. Casually he situated himself to his lover's right, which left him sitting across from Tyki – something he was gradually becoming used to – and worked his hair into something resembling a ponytail, fly-aways sticking out around his face. A deep, meaningful scowl took his features as Lavi, grinning from ear to ear, settled back in his place, picking up his cards and forming them into the hand he had flung himself away from only moments before. He laughed at the connection of a very loose fist to his right arm, Kanda having hit with his left.
"Um… what was I doing? Oh, that's right. Losing." Lavi said more to himself than to Allen, and smiled over the top of his cards. The British boy smiled back, more than satisfied with his own hand, sure he would win. Kanda and Tyki remained without cards however, both knew better from personal experience and had lost earlier in the day – when Allen's sleeves had been rolled up. The boy was a demon in more ways than one when it came to the card game, they both had to admit.
That left who they supposed to be the dumbest among them to play against any unbeatable foe.
Allen made a meaningless bet. Lavi met it. Allen drew a card. Lavi drew three. Allen called. Lavi raised him nothing. They spread their cards between them.
"You're taking care of my dirty dishes for three weeks." The white haired boy chimed, collecting the deck to shuffle. Lavi made a pouting face at him. They both knew he wouldn't really take care of the dishes – it was just the idea of betting that attracted the British Exorcist and so they did. It was pointless when nothing could be gained or lost at least in words.
The redhead made a face at him. "If I win the next one, you have to do something horrible with Yuu-chan."
"I am not a part of this." Kanda protested at once, and glared deeply at the redhead, eyes narrowed. The Noah in front of him smiled a little but he ignored it. "I'm not playing the game, I'm not something you can bet, and like hell I'm doing anything with him after what he pulled in the room today."
"That was half your fault." Allen shot in with a flip of the deck between his hands. "Standing there with all of that stuff in your arms… I swear it was as if I'd seen a burdened angel newly fallen from heaven." Tyki snicker at the words only because of the terribly cheesy tone with which the British boy produced them – dreamy eyed, as if he knew how silly he sounded. As the Noah watched, Kanda turned to his lover with his eyes narrowed, dark bangs hanging over his eyes until he swept them out of his way with his hand.
"Che. You suck off every angel you come across, Moyashi-kun?"
Lavi made a sound between a laugh and a gag before he made a show of fanning himself with his cards. "Moyashi-kun, it might seem odd for me to write you like this, but I do not see what else to do. You and I have not grown closer in your time at the Order and —"
He did not dodge Kanda's fist when it came for his face but it didn't land anyway, stopped by the Japanese man's willpower alone. The redhead frowned at it. "You stupid masochist. If you say anything else, I'll fucking hug you and see how you like it." He warned, and dropped his hand to his side.
Lavi grinned. "Really?"
"If you touch me—"
"Don't you dare—!"
Allen sighed when the two went down in another fluttering of cards and fists and – this time – splayed, accepting arms. Kanda went down, Lavi landing on top of him, face pressed into the curve of the Japanese man's shoulder, eye patch threatening to move askew.
"In another universe very similar to our own," Tyki said softly, gathering his lover's cards so they would be prepared for when he returned to the game. He grinned at the sound Lavi made with his arms wrapped firmly around the samurai's waist – like a giggle, almost. "Our two troublemakers might have fallen into a more intimate relationship than the one they currently enjoy I think. Or at least how they flirt makes me think so."
"Che. We do not flirt! Get your Goddamn rabbit off of me!"
"Of course we flirt!" Lavi responded at once. "I flirt with everyone."
"And it's disgusting! Get off of me, you… slut!"
"Oh, Yuu-chan, that was pretty hot. You should call me names more often…"
Allen couldn't take it anymore and laughed outright, pulling the cards over his mouth to muffle the sound. It was not until Kanda finally stopped fighting off the redhead that Lavi let go, looking pleased with himself, and made his way back to the game, rubbing his sore right shoulder even as the samurai punched it one more time for good measure. The redhead grinned at the British boy, who shook his head, half disbelieving. "It's a good thing I love you both at least a little, or I'd castrate one of you," Allen chimed, and shuffled his hand a bit until he like the order of his royal flush. Lavi frowned at his hand, suddenly despondent.
"You know it's just fun to fuck with Yuu-chan. I'm sure you do it all the time." The redhead grinned, and put down four cards, needing to replace them.
"Oh yes." Allen's face took on a distinctly evil expression, his eyes glimmering with mischief. He ignored Lavi as he the redhead started to give himself new ones and instead let his eyes drift to his lover, who didn't seem to notice. "I do fuck with him all the time, though it would be more often if someone could remember what a turn is." He bit out, and then turned back to find his opponent shuffling none-too-subtly through the deck, building what might have been a winning hand.
"There are only thirty-six cards…" Lavi muttered, sifting through them. "There should be forty-two… we each have…five…"
"As if you're not!"
Kanda let out a soft sigh and rolled his eyes, completely under amused by the other two. "The day you don't cheat at poker is the day I'll let you have your turn, Moyashi."
"I fold." Allen said at once, putting his cards down and shoving them haphazardly into the deck. Kanda and Lavi both paled. Tyki made a short choking, laughing sound beside him. "I wasn't cheating, I don't cheat against friends. Really. So…" He rolled up his sleeves – now empty – and grinned at the Japanese man to his left. "I'll be counting from ten…"
"Fuck you! I know as well as you do that you—"
"Were cheating you little—"
Kanda reached out and clapped his left hand over Allen's mouth, glaring when he felt the little countdown continue against his palm. Lavi took to snorting loudly, still counting cards, while Tyki just looked amused from his side, shaking his head. "I get it! Fine!" The samurai said loudly, shaking his lover a little. "It's not fair to cheat you out of your turn and it's not fair for you to cheat us either! Stop cheating and I'll let you be seme!" He blared and then, slowly, starting at the base of his throat, turned very, very red. It occurred to him that he shouldn't be embarrassed – not really – but that he had, indeed, not only admitted to being seme (which was still a long lasting debate between the two of them) but had also said it loudly in front of Lavi and Tyki. Behind his palm, Allen's mouth opened in something like a nearly silent snicker. Kanda began to growl very low in his throat.
A hand – a hand that wasn't Allen's – ruffled through the front of his hair and he stilled, confused for a moment. He realized with a little start that it was Tyki touching him, trying to calm him, and he felt anger well in his gut for a moment before it settled again and the fingers in his bangs withdrew.
The Noah shifted awkwardly in the silence that followed, a strangely human expression spreading across his features. "I apologize," he said softly. "It's just—"
"Che." Kanda cut him off as he turned his head to the side. His messy ponytail bounced behind him and his eyes shut, irritation written on his face, determination squaring his jaw. "Don't worry about it." He hissed, and looked down at the cards that Lavi had slowly, in the stillness, gathered awkwardly in his hands, holding them like some sort of lifeline in a gale. With a narrowing of his eyes the Japanese Exorcist rounded on the redhead, annoyance still burning like black fire in his gaze. "What the fuck are you waiting for? Are you going to deal or what?"
"Oh…" Lavi said, and shuffled while he let his eye wander over to Allen a slow, knowing smile on his lips. "Well…" He grinned outright, "Place your bets ladies!" He chimed encouragingly.
"Baka there are no bets."
"And none of us are ladies, either."
-- -- --
I hope that you saw the themes and the foreshadowing and the stuff I wanted everyone to notice, as well as the underlying message that hid itself in all of those pages of smut. If not… well… I hope you missed the typos and liked it anyway! 8D
Is it ironic that this ended on the same number as the anime has episodes? I wonder…
Thank you all for reading and reviewing! From now on, I'll be slowly replacing and fixing typos. So if you remember any, please tell me. :)
And if you'd like to know the gender of Sable's baby, being I don't plan on writing it, I'll reply it back to you if you ask. 8D
Please no flaming for the sorta happy ending?