Here it is; my D. Gray-man fanfic! And it's a yaoi one at that featuring Cross x Allen!
This was inspired from chapter 167 of the manga, so expect spoilers. I haven't taken the event of chapter 168 into account, since I wrote this one-shot before 168 came out. So, to everyone who haven't gone that far in the manga or simply do not want to be spoiled, just know that I warned you.
Oh yeah, expect some OOC from this.
Anyway, here it is so enjoy!
Disclaimer: D. Gray-man does not belong to me. It belongs to Hoshino Katsura.
The First Sin: Cross Marian
"You are the Fourteenth…"
"The memories will erode you and you will turn into the Fourteenth…"
"When that happens, you will kill someone you love…"
The words kept ringing in Allen's head like a thundering echo. The revelations made to him not too long ago were disturbing beyond reason, and it was depriving him of sleep. After that conversation, he and his master were forbidden to meet again. And now, he was alone in this new room he received, silently watching the light from the moon cast dark shadows whenever it hit against something opaque. His mind continuously pondered over everything said to him. But despite that, there was so much he wanted to ask—wanted to know.
"You are the Fourteenth…"
The Noah that betrayed the Earl of Millennium…
That was him…
But… there's no way he could absolutely accept that. Did it mean that the entire fifteen years of his life was a lie? His existence wasn't his but another's? For how long… had he actually been a puppet dangling from the strings of fate?
"Allen… I love you…"
Does that mean that Mana's feelings for him weren't also real? The love and affection that he was showered with… Were they meant for him or meant for another?
"Mana…" the white-haired boy lowly muttered, his gloved left hand gently touching his scarred left eye. The curse was still there. His connection to Mana was still there. But… was it real? Or was it another lie?
"I don't know…" he continued. "I don't know anymore…" He covered his eyes with is hand, trying to drown out the tears that threatened to fall. Beside him, lying on the covers, his golden golem tried to comfort him the best it could. But the affectionate gesture brought him more unrest. "What am I…?"
"I thought so…"
A voice in the shadows suddenly spoke out, causing him to jolt up in a panic. He grasped the covers tightly as his eyes narrowed. Swiftly, Timcanpy fluttered enthusiastically from his side to the stranger standing in his room. "What're you doing here?" Allen asked; his voice laced with coldness and uncertainty. "I thought we weren't allowed to meet… Master."
Cross chuckled and stepped into the light where he could properly be seen. A cigarette was resting between his fingers, and Timcanpy nestled comfortably on his shoulder. "Hm?" the elder man mused, glancing at the golden golem. "Did Timcanpy get bigger again?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Allen huffed. "He's exactly as you saw him not too long ago."
"…You're mad," he stated while taking a puff from his cigarette.
Allen frowned and turned his head away. He didn't want to engage with his master's sarcasm at the moment. He wasn't in the mood to tolerate the man's humor. "I guess you are," the older man said as he approached the bed. Allen inched away from him, ushering the covers higher above his knees. "Stay away," he muttered.
"Because… You're not supposed to be here. Those were the rules."
"…And since when have you and I ever held a regard for the rules?"
"As my apprentice, I thought you would understand. But it looks like you've still a long way to go."
"Master!" he was about to retort a rebuttal of some kind, but the moment he shot up to glare at the elder man, a strong had found its way to the top of his head, softly patting it in the most gentle nature he's known.
"I thought so…" Cross repeated the statement from earlier. "You… whenever you're troubled about something, you never allow it to come to the surface. But you would always hide under the covers at night, thinking that you can bear all the burden by yourself."
"What?" Allen was stunned. How could the man possibly know that?
"I'm your Master," Cross answered as if he had read the young boy's mind. "It's natural that I know things about you."
"…More things than anyone does…" he reluctantly answered, but he didn't pull away from the gentleness the hand was offering. It reminded him of the elder man's gesture earlier as he had broken down into tears. It was… a rare thing for him. "You knew…" he muttered. "You knew all along about me being the Fourteenth. You knew it all along."
"…Is that why you were there when Mana died? It wasn't a coincidence that we met…?"
Slowly, Cross removed his hand from Allen's head as he took another huff from his cigarette before setting it on the small saucer that was on the bedside table. The long silence that swept them was unnerving, but his heart wouldn't stop pounding. Allen ached to hear the answer, even though he might regret hearing it. Even though he would never admit it out loud, he didn't want to think that his meeting with Cross was also borne out of this Fourteenth.
"Yes," the answer finally came; and he heard something shattering in his chest.
Allen pulled his knees to his chest, burying his face in his arms. He would've probably cried, but his pride would not allow him to shed another tear in front of this man. He didn't want to be weak. He didn't want to remain weak. But above all… he didn't want to be seen as weak… especially by this man.
"What're you thinking?" the elder man asked, curious at his pupil's silence.
"That's it…" came the reply. "You made me your apprentice because I am the Fourteenth. If I had been someone else… you wouldn't have…"
"I suppose," he answered honestly. "But that was then."
Allen dared not to look at his master. He probably had a smug look on his face as always. Really, that man was the most annoying and unnerving person he's ever met. But at the same time… he couldn't help being drawn towards him. He wanted to be acknowledged and recognized properly by this man. But he knew… all he ever will be… is another child whose face is wet with tears.
"You look like you're about to cry."
The statement made him reel back, and he cursed himself for revealing such a face, and quickly turned away. "I'm not," he tried to utter but came out as a sob. He felt the elder man sit by his side. As he was about to inch further away, he was instantly pulled into a tight and searing embrace, startling him to the very core.
"Mas…ter…?" he whispered ever so faintly. The strong arms wrapped around his back tightly that he felt like he would bruise. His face was buried into the broad chest so closely that he could actually the rhythm of the man's heart beat. It was an alluring sound—almost enchanting. He felt swept away by the sound so much so that it was almost a sin.
He mentally cursed himself for thinking such absurd thoughts about his mentor. All this man had ever done was make life hard for him—having him pay for his debts, making him do excruciating odd jobs, and provide him with the money to splurge on women. He had already lost count of how many women this man had bedded. They were all beautiful, and some of them ranged from pretty to exotic. But no matter how kind and nice they were, he still resented them for owning a piece of his master.
Rest assured that in whatever town or country they visited, the older man would definitely bring home a woman at night. Allen would sometimes catch a glimpse of them entering the general's room. Then sounds of indefinable nature would be heard. They were loud and unforgiving. Those sounds would continue long into the night, and he would only reach peace when dawn came. Then he would see them come out of the room, fixing their clothes as they flirt. A kiss and a hug, that's how they always parted.
Whenever Allen would see those exchanges, he couldn't help but feel something bubbling inside him. What would it be like to simply melt into that man's touch until everything was washed away? His pain, his guilt and his curse… all of them would be drowned away in a single moment's bliss. But whenever he turned to meet his master in the eye, he would shake off those thoughts and buried them deep in his heart with hopes of forgetting them.
He would rather endure long torment than drown in a river of sin.
But being embraced by his master was something he never dreamed possible. It was rare for the older man to be so intimate with his gestures. But the longer he was held, the more Allen wanted to be held. Perhaps… in this death of the night… he could finally satisfy his own cravings…
Thrusting himself out of his thoughts, he quickly pulled away from the older man, setting an arm's distance away from him. "S-Sorry…" he stammered, trying to drown away the dirty thoughts he had been thinking. If he had looked up perhaps he would have seen the look of irritation flashing on Cross' face. But he did hear the man's amused voice speak. "You're blushing."
"This is a sight to behold. Allen Walker is blushing. You look absolutely flustered. I guess my charm works on you too, huh."
"That's… That's not true!" He was trying to hide his panic, and doing it quite unsuccessfully. "I… I'm not blushing!"
"Your face is beet-red. Timcanpy here can attest to that."
"I am not!" Don't tell me he noticed, he thought violently. The feelings that he had successfully hidden for so long… it couldn't have been revealed in a single instant, could it? How could he be so careless?
"Look at you… Denying it like a brat. What's wrong in admitting you felt flustered because of me?"
"Well, I'm sorry for being a kid and not so mature like those women you spend your nights with!"
"Those women may provide for my cravings and desires, but they never satisfy me."
"You…" he fumed. "You're that kind of person. You're always ignoring me; looking down on me. You don't care a single thing about me."
"Even now you have that stoic attitude—taking me for granted. That's what I hate most about you! Do you think I was okay with you sleeping around in other women's bed, or inviting them to sleep in yours? You really annoy me!"
"Don't just sit idly there as if I've become the subject of you amusement once again! I hate you; go away! Why'd you even come here? And don't tell me you were worried because I—!"
He never got to finish his statement because, in the next moment, he was pinned down against the bed with the elder man hovering above him—mere inches away from him. "If I was?" he asked calmly. "What if I told you I was worried about you? What would you do?"
Allen faltered in his answer. He truly didn't know what to say. Despite the clothes they were wearing, he could feel the heat emanating from the elder man's body. And those eyes that were looking down at him… those eyes were fierce and intense. He felt mesmerized by them—captivated and weakened.
"If you weren't okay with me sleeping in others' beds, then why didn't you invite me to yours?"
"Wha… What?" The statement caused him to pause with surprise—shock was written all over his face, but at the same, a flaming red color began to color his cheeks. "What're you saying…?" he muttered defensively. He couldn't do anything as both his wrists were pinned on either side of his head. But strangely, he couldn't find reason to want to fight back.
"You really are a stupid apprentice," Cross chuckled, but there was raw emotion in his voice, as if he had been struggling with something painful for a long time. "With that face of yours… do you actually think that a woman could compare to you?"
With that, he descended upon the younger boy, their lips meeting. Allen's eyes shot wide open, his mind tried to process what was happening. Was he… being kissed… by his master? It must be a dream. That's probably it. But a new sensation shattered that belief. Something warm and wet prodded his lips for entrance. He gasped in surprise, and the split second he parted his lips, that thing entered his mouth deepening the kiss with great intensity.
His master's tongue was strong, and it was hurting his. This was his first kiss, and he clearly did not know how to respond. The anger built up inside him began to dissipate as it was replaced by a new growing passion. He could clearly taste the bitterness of the cigarette, and smell the strong scent of the elder man's cologne. It was driving him insane, and overpowering him greatly.
When they finally parted for air, Allen was panting heavily, while the man above him still looked calm and composed—so obvious that he's experienced in that field. His lips were swollen and tears had formed at the rim of his eyes. His heart was also aching badly.
"Master…" he huffed. "It's… This… We're both guys…"
Cross chuckled as something flashed in his eyes for a brief moment. Was it pain? "I knew you would say that," he said as he descended once again, this time latching on to the young boy's slender neck. He kissed it gently and licked the skin affectionately. Allen shivered as he felt the man's tongue sliding on him. "I knew you would say that… That's why I never bothered," the elder man continued. "Two men… Yes, it's a sin. To prevent myself and you from committing that sin, I turned to the embraces of various women. But none of them could truly satisfy my cravings of the night."
Cross raised himself and began to undo the garments he was wearing. One by one the pieces of fabric were discarded as Allen lay there watching with stupor. Perhaps this was the first time he truly saw his master's naked form, and it was making his heart jump with excitement… and anticipation.
"You haven't figured it out yet?" Cross continued, now turning his attention to Allen, ridding him of his clothes. Allen tried to cry out a protest, but was stopped by his master's words. "When I first picked you up, you were a brat. But as time passed, something inside me desired you—to stain you. Even now that hasn't changed."
"To remain as your mentor… That was the only thing I could do while I spent my nights with various women. But now, I cannot hold back anymore. Showing me such a face like earlier and now… The glint in your eyes tells me you want me too."
The last piece of fabric left on Allen was the glove on his left hand. Cross smirked and leaned down, biting a piece of it and slowly lifted it off the young boy's hand. "N-No," Allen protested. "Don't remove that…" His plea was unheard as the glove came off, exposing the whole of his bloody red arm. Cross was unperturbed by the boy's reactions, and instead, caressed the hand to his cheek. He gently planted soft kisses on that hand, trailing upward until he reached the shoulder. When he got to the collarbone, he did not hesitate drowning himself into that flesh, leaving his mark with every single touch and caress he did.
"Ma… Master…" Allen uttered. These sensations were foreign to him, but he couldn't deny how his body was reacting. But… was it his own? Or were they…
He let out another gasp as he felt the warmth of the elder man's flesh rubbing on his own. The ecstasy was too much, yet he felt like he wanted more. "Master," he wheezed as he grasped the man's broad shoulders.
"Allen," Cross whispered hotly against his ear. "You think I don't care about you? You think I take you for granted? All these years I was denying myself of what I wanted. And you think I don't care about you…"
"I will show you… Just how much I want you…"
His hands traveled down the boys thighs to the knees where he forced them apart. Allen shuddered at the sight, his heart racing like crazy. He clutched the sheets rather tightly, not knowing whether to embrace the man or push him away. Society's morals and norms dictated that this was wrong. Yet, there was something lingering inside his chest that demanded for it—no matter how wrong or impure it may be.
"AAH!" Allen shuddered in ecstasy as he felt the general's mouth upon him, taking him in, wrapping him in a wet and blissful heat. He bucked his hips upward wanting more of the delicious mouth, and Cross rightfully delivered. He wouldn't stop. He wanted everything of this man.
Allen took in large gulps of air as the heat inside him began to pool at the bottom of his stomach, getting ready for release. When he thought he had reached the pinnacle of satisfaction, the hot mouth that had been pleasuring him disappeared. He opened his eyes (that he didn't know he had closed) and looked curiously at the elder man. Perhaps he had never seen Cross look the way he did right now. The sight was to behold! The lust and desire was evident in the man's eyes as well as the need to satisfy this carnal craving. For a moment, Allen felt jealous of the women that were able to see his master in that way.
"Well, this is unexpected," Cross chuckled. "I didn't think I'd go this far, but… Looks like I've reached my limit." His strong hands inched upward Allen's thigh and caressed that part of him that would soon become his. "Allen…" he uttered coarsely, rubbing that narrow opening with his fingers.
"Ma… Master!" Allen jolted in surprise at the intrusion.
"You are not a woman, Allen…" he spoke. "But I can embrace you as if you were a woman."
"N-No," he stammered nervously; his voice unable to deny that he craved for it. "I… I am cursed… If you do…"
"I am already cursed," the man interrupted. "I am already cursed for wanting you. You are mine. Allen."
Cross lifted one of the young boy's legs and forced himself into the space in between. Allen shuddered and writhed with the feeling of being violated. The sensation was unlike any he had encountered before. It hurt, but strangely he wanted more. He wasn't content with just this. He wanted more. He moaned as a way of expressing that want, and the older man understood. Without further hesitation, he began moving, driving himself deeper and deeper into Allen's tight heat.
"AAH! Guh! Ah…!"
Allen's voice echoed throughout the room. He was making sounds he had no idea he could do. "Mas…ter…" he moaned. "Please… Ah! Timcanpy… is watching… Ah!" Cross smirked as sweat dripped from his brow. He didn't stop his hips and, instead, put more motion into it. "Let it watch," the older man replied. "So that… you won't ever… forget this…"
"AAH!" Tears began to rim at his eyes. With every thrust Cross gave, his body arched upwards accepting every bit and every inch of the man. He subconsciously wrapped his arms around him; his fingers digging deeply into the elder man's flesh. Just as Cross has left his mark on the young boy's chest, neck and collarbone, so did Allen leave his own mark on the elder man's back.
The bed shifted uncontrollably and the head board smashed violently against the wall with every rapid change of their movement. Sex was hot and messy. But it felt good. And Allen could not deny this pleasure. It's what he wanted, probably ever since the day he had reached out and took that man's hand. Realizing this fact, he let the tears fall down his face, but they weren't of sadness because he didn't feel sad at all.
"Crying?" Cross muttered, noticing the boy's tears. "That's right, you should cry," he whispered coarsely as he drove himself deeper with every thrust, relishing in the young boy's heat. "Cry, Allen. Cry knowing you belong to me and only me. Don't… let anyone else… touch you like this…"
"Master…" Allen wailed as he completely surrendered his entire being to this man. It didn't matter anymore whether it was wrong or right. As long as this man is with him, he'll face any challenge that comes his way. "Master… Do you… love me…?" he uttered in between gasps.
"Figure it out," the man smirked and proceeded with his passion, clinging on tightly to the young boy as if not wanting to let go. As if the boy would disappear if he let go…
As Allen dwelled in the passion and pleasure, his mind could not stop reminding him of what was revealed to him. But perhaps, it is because of those revelations that he desired to have this man or at least offer himself to this man no matter what. While he is still himself, he wants to give everything he has to the one dearest and most precious to him.
"Ah… Guh… Mas…ter…"
"You are the Fourteenth."
"…Or rather, the memories of the Fourteenth were implanted in you."
"Ma… Master…! Ugh… Guh…"
The heat that had built up inside them became unbearable that it needed to be released soon. Their movements hastened in pace, pushing them beyond their own limits.
"In time, those memories will eventually erode you. And you will become the Fourteenth."
"Master… I… love you… AHH!"
"And when become the Fourteenth, you will kill someone you love."
"Love… only me… Allen…"
Their vision blurred, and everything turned white. Both bodies collapsed back on the bed, panting and heavily out of breath. Sleep dared to take over them as exhaustion overwhelmed their bodies. As they drifted off into a deep slumber, the moonlight continued to cast dark shadows into the room, perhaps signaling something ominous about to happen.
Bookman peered into the young boy's room. He had wanted to speak with the young boy since last night, but couldn't find the chance to. And now that dawn came, the first thing he intended to do was to discuss a few things with him. He had knocked on the door twice, but received no answer. After the third try, he finally pushed open the door and peered into the room.
Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. He approached the bed and found the young boy sleeping peacefully as if he was trapped in a good dream. He was about to stretch out his hand to stir the young boy awake, but another man's voice startled him and effectively stopped him.
"Don't touch him." The voice was stern and unwavering. But he also knew that voice very well.
"I thought you two weren't allowed to meet… General Cross Marian?"
He turned to meet the general, finding him clad in a bathrobe with a towel slung around his shoulders. His hair was still dripping wet, but Timcanpy still thought it suitable to perch on top of his head. "Bookman," Cross acknowledged the old man's presence. "What are you doing here?"
"I should be asking you the same thing," came the reply. "But then again, looking at this young boy now, I guess it's pretty obvious what you were doing."
"I came here to talk with Allen about the Fourteenth," he spoke, moving away from the bed.
Cross made his way back to the bed, sitting at the edge and staring at the young boy's sleeping face. "I thought Bookmen were only to record history, not to get personally involved."
"That's right. But it is for the sake of history that I come here."
"You know, Cross. Rouvelier doesn't trust you very much. Nor does he trust your apprentice. But will tolerate Allen's existence for the sake of defeating the Earl."
"Rouvelier's definition of tolerance is to cut them open, dissect them and use them for various experiments. It's people like him that makes this Holy War so unholy. If he thinks he can make a lab rat out of this boy, he's very wrong."
"…How intriguing," Bookman commented, noticing the gentle gesture of Cross brushing away strands of Allen's bangs away from his face. "From all of the generals, you were the most distanced. Disappearing from the Order without any word or contact… People thought that you had died. But the reason you didn't return was because of this boy, correct? If the Order had learned of his existence then, it might've turned out bad for him."
"Allen didn't even know that his left arm was an Innocence. He didn't know anything about this world… how to properly take care of himself… People like Rouvelier in the Order wouldn't have given him a proper chance."
"…That's why you trained him to become a superb exorcist, enough so that the Order would find him useful?"
"How painful it must've been then for you… knowing that eventually that boy would grow up and no longer need your guidance. Perhaps that's why you treated him the way you did so as to avoid getting too attached. But it still ended up that way, didn't it?"
"Well, I'll just speak to Allen some other time. Good day." With that, Bookman turned and took his leave.
Cross looked down on the sleeping boy, admiring the marks he had left upon that soft flesh. When he went to the boy's room that night, he didn't come with the intent of making love to him. But seeing that troubled face had been enough to drive him insane with want. These feelings that he locked up ever since he took hold of the boy's hand had ultimately reached the surface.
Yes… he had always been watching Allen. Since the time the memories of the Fourteenth had been implanted in him. And also since the time Mana had picked up young Allen, he'd always been watching. Always… marveling at how the young boy continued to grow. He began to want the boy—fantasizing about him in his sleep.
Dirty him. Stain him. Make him impure.
The voices in his head would keep him up all night. To quench those desires, he sought out the comfort of women. But no matter how many times he did it with them, his cravings would not be satisfied. He wanted more. No, rather, he wanted Allen. But he knew the time of parting would come soon, and that their relationship would strictly only be that of master and student.
To resign himself in this one-sided affair, he resolved to push the boy emotionally away to prevent himself from getting attached. But has Bookman pointed out, he ended up getting attached anyway—submitting himself to his inner desires for one night of absolute bliss. He wondered for a moment if Allen would ever realize just how much he had craved for what happened last night… or how much he felt utterly satisfied, so much more than what women had offered him.
He stroked the young boy's face, admiring its shape and contour. He was truly beautiful. Even with that eye and deformed hand… the boy was beautiful. A radiant beauty unlike anything Cross had ever seen… It's true that love between men was wrong, but…
"…Be my sin… and my curse…"
If it was so wrong, then why was it given as part of man's free will?
"To be killed by you would be the greatest release, so… love only me… and no other else… Love me greater than you have ever loved before. And then, with this hand…" He leaned down and planted a soft and gentle kiss upon Allen's left hand. "Feel free to take away my life in any way you see fit…" He moved his lips to Allen's cheeks, caressing them and showering them with kisses. He softly nibbled on the boy's lips, cherishing them like a newly discovered treasure.
With a final kiss, he lifted himself up from the bed. He turned to gather his clothes and dressed in them. That night was probably a memory that could only happen once. Once Allen became the Fourteenth, all his fantasies would shatter. "Hm… If only that stupid idiot had chosen someone useless then I wouldn't be this attached," he mused.
He fixed the creases in his clothes, and checked his appearance in the mirror. Afterwards he patted Timcanpy lightly, motioning for him to stay in the room. He made his way to the door, opening it and stepping out. He glanced one last time at Allen's sleeping form then chuckled half-heartedly.
"Really… I can't even find the urge to laugh at Tiedoll anymore…"
He closed the door, masking the look of anguish that had appeared on his face as well as any remnant of the sin they had committed under the gentle rays of the moonlight.
Well, how was it? Liked it?
Cross x Allen had always been the subject of humor. And, just once, I wanted a serious interaction between those two. Ah! I adore them!
I know that in the chapter 168 Allen said that he doesn't care about the Fourteenth and stuff… But I kind of wanted to add more drama and angst to this. You know, like there's a feeling of foreboding… like something dreadful is about to happen…
Well, you get it, don't you?