A/N: So, here's my first submission for Laven week! It's small, but it's only the beginning. Those of you who watch me regularly or know my Laven fanfic, "Figments of the Forgotten", will be happy to know that it shall be updated within the alotted time for Laven week, I'm going to make sure of it, even though I have summer homework to attend to as well. But it's just some reading and question work, so it shouldn't be too hard to work in around writing, right?
Now then, enjoy my tried-to-make-as-long-as-possible-to-tell-it's-own-mini-story sentences, and try not to mind too much the Spanish numbering (I took Spanish class last year, and it leaked through into my writing... D: ).
He can remember the smell of the bandages and blood, and the words uttered to him by Komui and Bookman, and how sunny the day was despite how bleak he felt inside, and yet all Allen can really see in this memory is the way a certain red-haired teen a tad older than him whom stepped into the threshold, leaning against the doorframe, talking about something (Allen can't remember what, now, due to how he focused on Lavi's voice at the time) in such a casual, lighthearted, smooth tone; and Allen never thought a memory of a meeting could be so treasured.
It's stiff and unforgiving, cold from the autumn air, and terribly lumpy, but Lavi suffers through his current state on the prickly, grassy knoll because watching shooting starts fly and fade with Allen is one of his favorite things to do on these missions; it's the only time he doesn't feel lonely.
"Come on, Lavi, we have to do this," Allen says, but he doesn't mean it even as he tugs on Lavi's scarf, because the white-mopped boy himself doesn't want to go in for his annual physical with Komui, but they're left with no choice.
"The last thing I need is Beanspout for a partner," Kanda grunts in irritation, and so Lavi smiles and hooks an arm around Allen's head, telling the disgruntled 'samurai-wannabe' that if he won't have Allen as a partner, Lavi will take him instead.
It's wrong – he knows it is because of what he's read in the Bible – and yet the feeling he has for Lavi can't be helped or stopped or changed, even though Allen knows that Linalee has a crush on him and it would be "right" for him to return it.
Lavi's smiles are often forced, and Allen's arm is often described as coarse, but they find that when they take a moment to talk to and touch the other, Lavi's smiles and Allen's arm can't be gentler.
"Do you trust me?" he asks, and I can't say no to him; deep down, I know that I don't trust another soul as much as I trust Allen.
A picture is worth a thousand words, but Lavi soon finds out that a word – love – is capable of making a thousand pictures come to mind, one of which pertaining to a certain British comrade with a pentacle etched over his left eye.
I don't feel like a king – or any member of a royal family for that matter – when I'm wearing my Clown Crown (in fact, I merely feel like the king's fool engaged in battle), but I do feel like royalty when Lavi looks in my direction with softness in his eyes reserved solely for me.
"No, no, no; you're not doing it right… When you kiss someone, you have to do it like this," and the redhead proceeds to capture Allen's chin in his hand and press his lips to the stunned younger boy's, his tongue worming it's way into the other's mouth.
Tch, stupid Linalee seems to get all of his attention; well, I'll show her…!
"I'll come back," he promises wholeheartedly, his hands clasping the smaller boy's as he forces a grin to his lips, "For you, Allen, I'll come back alive, although I can't say I won't be damaged a little."
It's frightening, watching the shift in Lavi's character and the purplish tattoo spread across his face below his forest-green eye as Rhode takes over; Allen cant possibly feel anything as painful as this to watch and do nothing about, and then have to turn around and fight his beloved comrade.
His scar, my hair, his hand, our blood; all red, all burning hot to the touch, and so addicting to see and feel over and over again, despite the fact that I would rather not have to see our blood again, because the next time I do could be the final time.
It takes a while to realize, but suddenly Lavi's mind is teething with thoughts, and he knows it now: he must love Allen, because he would be lost without him.
His vision blurs, colors and shapes running together in watery smudges, because, oh God, his love is falling, faster and faster, bleeding the whole way down, the scarlet drops rounding off and falling with it's body to rain on the ground just before it hits the surface, and shit, he can't move his legs fast enough to catch the other male, and now his sight is crashing around him as he shuts his eyes, hears the deafening crunch, and cries heavy sobs that wrack his entire frame.
It's sick, because he needs this; he needs this chance to set things straight, because Allen nearly died, all because he got knocked unconscious and was sent hurtling down to the unforgiving earth, and all the while he only thought about how he couldn't save Allen, and how Allen never got to know that Lavi loves him, and how all that's left is a comatose face that's pale but listening, and Lavi finally confesses.
He wakes up to warmth, a body holding him, comfortable weight sleeping soundly; and it's Lavi, hunched over Allen's hospital wing cot, and suddenly Allen doesn't feel so groggy and sore anymore, because his quirky redhead is here.
Lavi's voice is flat, facial expressions quiet, as others come in to greet the newly-awakened-and-healed Allen; no one seems to notice how uncharacteristic Lavi is being, because they're too centered on Allen, but Allen himself notices and begins to worry.
Panic floods through Allen as everyone ventures out and Lavi is suddenly tight, his words curt with jealousy and hurt, as he asks Allen if his confession was heard at all, and Allen is confused, too, because he doesn't know what Lavi is talking about.
Veinte y uno. Manage
Allen never managed to understand, but a few weeks later – after four days worth of getting the silent treatment from Lavi following his wake-up in the hospital wing – Lavi confronts him, shrugging of his previous casual and overly-friendly state to let slip three words to Allen, and it's all the white-haired exorcist can do not to spurt his soup from his mouth all over the cafeteria's tables.
Veinte y dos. Soul
They're together, officially, and suddenly the world is a brighter place because, finally, their souls are not halved any longer, because they found their missing piece to become one whole soul.
Veinte y tres. Now
It's strange for me to be able to express my feelings openly now; I can kiss Lavi whenever I want to, hug him whenever I want to, say whatever I want to him, and not have to hide behind an excuse of 'learning to kiss' or 'feeling cold' or 'just kidding'.
Veinte y cuatro. Shadow
It lingers there, in the mirrors and across the walls and on the floors, watching him; every breath Allen makes, every step he takes, the Fourteenth's essence trails behind him and whispers bizarre things in his ear, but when the exorcist turns to look, all that catches his eye is a shadow as thick and black as tar with a contorted smile on it's vague face… and it's then that Allen screams, a single name ("Lavi!") laced in the sound.
Veinte y cinco. Goodbye
It isn't goodbye, not really; it's merely a small separation until they can sneak off together again.
Veinte y seis. Hide
"Lavi, I need you to hide me; Link is on my tail again, and the last thing I need is for him to bother me about something or anoth– and yes, I would love to make my hiding spot under your covers; what a convenient and cozy place to be!"
Veinte y siete. Fortress
He helps me walk when I'm injured, cares for me when I'm sick, sticks around when I'm lonely, holds me when I'm depressed, and tells me what I need to hear when the time is right; without meaning to, Allen has become my fortress, the one thing that keeps me stable when I wouldn't be if left to myself.
Veinte y ocho. Safe
Allen feels safe here, protected, while sleeping in Lavi's arms; he feels as though his nightmares won't touch him, Akuma won't attack him, and no other person will vie for his attention.
Veinte y nueve. Wash
They sit in silence in the steamy room, water flowing around them in the teeny pool, and while Lavi soaps up a cloth, Allen doesn't even flinch as Lavi begins cleaning the muck off of his left arm.
For a brief moment, the sole thing Lavi can see is the wispy shape of a woman cloaked in a dress and shawl, and as soon as she blows away with the wind, he breaks down because that was his mother's ghost just now, and dammit if he wished he could've been there for her when she died of pneumonia; and during this small mantra to himself, Allen appears, and rocks the older boy as the muffled sobs without tears rattle his sturdy form.
Treinta y uno. Eyes
"I love how your eyes don't match," the redhead stats warmly as he cups Allen's face, and the smaller boy simply smiles and says the same thing back to the eighteen-year-old.
Treinta y dos. Sting
It hurts – cuts as deep as any enemy can, stinging with an intense, poisonous fire through his bloodstream – every time the Bookman's successor-to-be sees Linalee getting close to Allen.
Treinta y tres. Book
Allen enters the room – smelling of ancient paper, dust, and worn leather – and paces over to a desk in the far right corner to wake the drooling redhead laying there, his face pressing into the spine of a thick tome.
Treinta y cuatro. Torn
I know that I love Allen, and that I always will, but there's a problem with that: Bookmen aren't supposed to have earthly attachments, so what am I going to do?
Treinta y cinco. Never
Never before has Lavi felt this unsure of himself; how can one person make him feel although such a choice – between being a lover and being dutiful to the Bookmen – is a choice which will destroy his very heart and soul?
Treinta y seis. Fool
He is a fool for thinking that choosing Allen over his Bookmanship would bode well with the rest of the Black Order, especially his master, the current Bookman himself.
Treinta y siete. Sudden
Suddenly, Allen is pinned between the wall and Lavi, cold stone grazing his skin from under his rising shirt fabric, and damn, the things Lavi is doing with his tongue and teeth and lips and entire mouth, and whoa, why is it getting so hot in here because Allen was sure it was cold before, and he wonders vaguely what brought this on, seeing as how Lavi was upset a moment ago for being reamed at for dropping his Bookmanship, and… and… and now Allen can't think, because his clothes are becoming scarce, and he's not sure he's ready for this, because it happened just too suddenly.
Treinta y ocho. Time
"L-Lavi… ah… wait… I need… more time… before I – urhg! – go this far… with you…" he pants desperately.
Treinta y nueve. Harm
"C'mon, Allen… I need this, and I promise not to hurt you, so please: let me make love to you," the other murmurs softly.
He feels extremely ashamed for leaving Lavi there, running from the scene out of his own fears of being caught, ridiculed, and ultimately losing his virginity; he had crawled away like a frightened animal, and he only hopes that Lavi can forgive him.
Cuarenta y uno. Stop
"I'm sorry, Allen," Lavi sighs against the wood of the door blocking the path into Allen's quarters, "I shouldn't have pressured you; I just… well, I wanted to release all of my pent-up emotions, and because of them, I couldn't stop myself."
Cuarenta y dos. God
Allen doesn't know what God must think of him – not sure if he ever wants to know – but he does know what Lavi thinks of him, and for now, that's enough.
Cuarenta y tres. Vile
"You're disgusting," the Earl hisses in Allen's ear while they fight, "Do you know what happens to homos like you?"
Cuarenta y cuatro. Power
"I don't care what happens to me in heaven or hell; so long as I kill you, I don't need to worry about it!" Allen shouts back around a swing of his blade.
Cuarenta y cinco. Naked
The fight was over, the Earl killed, and now all which remains is Allen stripped of his clothing and sense of self, clinging to the also sweating body above him, the occasional moan escaping his own or Lavi's lips, and honestly, Allen isn't afraid anymore after facing such a terror and succeeding.
Cuarenta y seis. History
They have been through so much together… it's a miracle that they survived it all, and while they cuddle in the afterglow of their first time, they can't help but think of how strange and wonderful it all is.
Cuarenta y siete. Precious
"Lavi, I never said the words, but… I want you to know that you're precious to me, and are the one person I never want to lose, or else I'll fall apart."
Cuarenta y ocho. Drive
He doesn't know what's driving him to do this, but he slowly runs his hand down Allen's back, feeling every inch of the smooth skin, and replies, "You don't have to tell me, Allen; I already know, and I hope you know that I feel the same way about you."
Cuarenta y nueve. Hunger
The second and third ad fourth times are better; there's smothering, grinding heat, and shuddering breath like a song, and then there's the waves of unexplainable pleasure paired with the slight reminder of pain to keep them in check, and after all of this, the sweet, sweet blinding white of overdramatic release; and through it all, both Lavi and Allen can't seem to think, because they never thought that they would be hungry for something like this, and yet it feels so right and good and perfect that they don't mind in the least.
There is nothing I regret; as my life comes to a close, I simply smile at him, and he smiles back, and then we close our eyes and fade together, content as two – no, one person.