Written for the D. Gray Man Kink Meme.
Kink: Lavi x Kanda hate!shower sex.
Also note: I was up till nearly 4AM writing this. Yes 4AM. The last few pages? I don't know what happened. My fingers moved themselves. Literally. So yeah, if it's incoherent and vastly different from the rest, then THAT's my epic reasoning. But I liked it so it's uploaded here XD
(also for Pressure readers—I'm rewriting the chapter. For the fourth time. SORRY FOR THE LATENESS)
This may also be on the more explicit end of my fics; despite not exactly explaining… 'it'.
Lavi hadn't expected this.
Hadn't expected the hands, on either side of his head; and the body slick, wet, and literally humming with pent up frustration, pinning him to the wall. And not just any wall. The wall of the currently very-very tiny shower, of the very, very, tiny bathroom, of the equally tiny hotel room they had been forced to share for the mission.
And this wasn't even taking into regard who it was. Or maybe that's what made it so unbelievable. Considering how the recent evening had gone; Lavi had more or less expected his head to be chopped off, or for Mugen to be brandished at him, along with a string of curses.
Oh but how he had been wrong. But who could blame him? How could he have known that this time, out of all the others, would be different? How did he know that, instead of being his general violent self, Kanda would instead force the redhead into the bathroom; against the nearest wall, with a look on his face that said one thing, and one thing only.
The shower was the last thing on his mind.
If this had been any other time; if things hadn't played out quite like they had, then Lavi would have considered this a stroke of fortunate luck. After all, this was Kanda Yuu, second finest thing in the order (aside from Lenalee, who was basically untouchable—who the hell would be crazy enough to go against her brother?), nearly everyone had one wet fantasy or another about the man; it was inevitable.
But they were just that; fantasies. No one would ever dare get near him, and Lavi had only truly wondered why until now.
Now, when he really knew he had pushed the boundaries just a little too far, but because of the damn thing called pride, he wouldn't take it back.
A small voice in the back of his head argued that it was for the best; that he had every right to the words that had slipped out of his mouth, so casually, over dinner. But damn it all if he didn't wish now that his slip in neutrality hadn't happened.
He had gotten mad at the ebony haired man.
No. Not mad, out right livid. It still burned his blood, too, watching the man as he had; watching him—
You're afraid of dying, you can't help it another voice mocked him, tugging at the forefront of his mind, asking—taunting—it's way into annoying relevance.
But it had no relevance to now. It had already happened. He had already gotten angry, he should have already calmed down too; but how could he? How could he?
"What the fuck, Yuu?" He breathed, hearing his voice shake slightly in pent up frustration, feeling the still damp tiles soak through the back of his shirt.
Kanda only growled, menacingly, fire flashing in his eyes that could have been mistaken for lust—
Had this been any other time.
Lavi reached up with his hands to push against the older's chest, in a failed attempt to create space. But the older male simply lifted one hand, and forced them back. All. Too. Easily.
And Lavi knew. It was so simply, really.
This was the very reason why no one took that extra step to make the fantasy into reality.
Kanda Yuu was Kanda Yuu.
And fuck anyone who dared to try and handle him.
"Yuu?" He would have faked his happy tone if it still hadn't had that undertone to it, "C'mon Yuu, y'know this isn't—"
"You don't know anything." The words came as a jolt, sending a nervous shiver down Lavi's spine, as the dark eyes focused, not on his face, but to the tiled wall behind him, like he was trying to find a pattern, or maybe was focusing on one droplet of water.
"What the fuck makes you think you know?" Another jolt; Lavi nearly swallowed his tongue. "You think you know, don't you?"
"K-Know what?" Lavi cursed the stutter, squirming a bit from lack of room, and the fact he could literally see steam rising from behind the shabby curtain that blocked the spray.
"Everything," Kanda lowered his voice, eyes falling half closed, but no less mincing the words harshness, "You think you know everything about me, don't you?"
"You don't have the fucking right to say that."
Lavi wanted to play dumb and ask what the dark haired man—the one he so affectionately called "Yuu-chan"—meant. But he knew he wouldn't get away with it, and the very fact that he'd try to play stupid when—of course he knew what the man meant.
It made his blood start to boil even thinking about it, "Say what? That you're a fucking baka for pulling that stunt?" He hadn't realized his hands had moved at all, until they were suddenly forced up, above his head—claw like fingernails digging into the flesh.
"We failed the mission because of you!" Seething. Kanda Yuu, was seething.
But no, Lavi wouldn't back down now, "What, you wanted me to sit here and fucking watch you die?" He snapped, struggling to get his arms free, "You think you're what, some sort of Messiah that'll come back to life every single time you decide to—" he cut off that sentence with a shake of his head, "Sorry, but, I thought Allen was supposed to fit that role, not you, and hell—"
He didn't get a chance to finish that sentence either. Kanda didn't let him.
"Do not mention that…Moyashi here." The words were hissed right before Lavi suddenly became very familiar with the tiled floor, and the pain in his stomach.
Kanda had just punched him--hard--in the gut.
If Lavi had been anyone else, the hit would have permanently downed him. Thankfully he wasn't, and though he had to use the wall (which wasn't much help, given the amount of condensation on it) but he was standing, on his own two feet, seeing Kanda step away—
He wouldn't have that.
"I…wasn't done talking…" he wheezed, pushing himself forward to grab at Kanda's wrists. He wouldn't have the man punching him again; or kicking; or pinning him up against any walls.
He'd be the one doing the pinning now.
And he succeeded, pinning the slightly shorter male to the very same wall.
"The--fuck--" Admittedly he didn't make it easy. But Lavi—no—he couldn't be impartial now. Not now.
"Like I was saying," he leaned his head close, "you aren't…God, or some fucking perfect being. How long do you think you'll have before your time runs out?" He didn't see Kanda's expression, but he imagined it as one of surprise.
"You're human Kanda, you seem to forget this—"
And he started to struggle, again. Even harder than before, and when he spoke his words—fueled with…it was rage, yes, but it was old, almost ancient—"What the fuck do you know?! What the fuck gives you the right too—"
"Because you are." He had the feeling it might have been the wrong thing to say, and when he pulled away, he more than knew it was. Being headbutt-ed was just as painful as being punched in the gut. Especially when Kanda Yuu did it.
He let out a low groan, but kept his hands in a firm grip around Kanda's wrists.
He didn't like that. Not one bit.
"What do you know?!"
"Enough to know you're faulty." Kanda jerked back, unintentionally cracking his head back against the tiled wall. Lavi couldn't help but grin (even though he knew it was more of a grimace, he was almost surprised he wasn't bleeding yet).
"See? You're human." He dropped one hand from Kanda's wrist to touch the back of the Japanese man's head, in an almost mockingly kind gesture.
Kanda immediately jerked away from the touch.
Lavi only chuckled, "See? See?" he ruffled the man's hair before tangling his fingers in it. Just to feel for blood, or maybe a possible concussion. Not because he really cared, of course.
Again, no verbal response, but Lavi could feel the seething rage; it was only a matter of moments before Kanda would start struggling again, with as much, or even more, force.
But Lavi wouldn't give in, instead, he pushed Kanda impossibly farther into the wall, shifting a leg in between the other man's and—
"Seems you're human down here, too, Yuu-chan." It would have been teasing, had this been any other time. But it wasn't, and Kanda was stock still, almost as if he was hoping Lavi wouldn't notice.
Oh but he did.
He dropped the hand that had been occupied in the other's hair, down to the shoulder, then, running lightly over his bare chest—Lavi could see, at this point, that Kanda really, really wished he had thought to put more clothes on before he erupted at him earlier and dragged him in here—he sniggered to himself, as he felt Kanda's breath catch when his hand dipped to his stomach, and the grin turned near sadistic when one finger circled his navel.
No amount of stillness could keep Lavi from feeling the hardness that had grown between the other man's leg, nor would any amount of squirming loosen his grip. There was no way to hide it; and Lavi? Of course he would use it to his advantage.
Halting his hand just above the modest towel that hid the too obvious bulge, he wasted no time in slipping his fingers down, and over the sizable bulge.
"You--fuck," Lavi had to commend himself when Kanda could only bite out two, punctuate, words. Only two. Along with deep pants that fanned warm breath over his face.
"I?" He teased, halting his fingers soft brushing, right over the bulge, "What, Yuu-chan? You wanna deny this?" Maybe it was a bit mean, but then Lavi didn't want to play nice to begin with.
So when he grabbed Kanda's cock in a firm grip, and pumped, squeezed, jerked he didn't feel an ounce of regret. Instead, he felt something quite different, a different kind of heat other than the bursting anger.
And he enjoyed it. Thoroughly.
"You wanna deny that this makes you so fucking dirty, neh?" As far as he knew, Kanda had never 'done it' with anyone, much less used his own hand for stimulus. He knew the disgusted feeling of the first time; especially under less than favorable circumstances.
But that just made it better.
"It's human, y'know." He jerked and pumped again, feeling Kanda's hips twitch and buck, ever so slightly, before the other man forced them back, "To have this. See?" the towel still obstructed his view, but he took a moment to rid the other man of it, smirking all the while—
Kanda Yuu was blushing.
Blushing, and angry, and horny. Very, very horny, from the looks of it.
"Pervert," Kanda ground out, before letting loose a string of near intangible curses, "L-Let--go, fuck, I never said I didn't—"
"Humans die too; y'know." Lavi lowered his voice. He could guess where the topic was going, where it would quickly fall back to, "An' it's painful. You're supposed ta be afraid of it. Any normal human would."
Another string of curses.
Then he got free. Lavi knew he probably should have expected that, but the hand between them, pushing against his chest came as an almost complete surprise.
And the glare.
Kanda Yuu really was amazing. To be able to glare, while stark naked, in front of your (fully clothed) companion, who was, currently, jerking you off against your will.
"Funny you should s-say that." Even more impressive was the sentence, "Get your fucking hands off me."
"Why?" He had to note that Kanda didn't make a move to push his hands away. He only hissed slightly at the increased friction against his sensitive skin, "You're enjoyin' this."
"N-No," the bit lip only lasted for a second. The glare lasted longer, and the force the hands had multiplied by two-fold, "fuck, I—have that."
Whatever that was, Lavi could only guess, "I don't—not you, anyone but—" He let out a strangled yelp a second later, hands no longer focusing on pushing Lavi away, but instead, on scraping at his hands—getting him to stop? Keep going?
Again, Lavi could only guess.
But he wagered on continue when he brushed his thumb across the head of the others member, and heard yet another—not as loud—moan escape the other man's lips.
Lavi pulled his hand away, smirk widening just a bit more, at the half-dazed, half-shocked expression on the others face.
"You want it, don't you?"
"No." But gesh, the statement lacked force. But then, Lavi couldn't really blame him, even though that would, technically, be speaking too highly of himself and—
No. He didn't want to remember those memories just yet.
Instead, before Kanda could regain his balance, he forced the other man back again—hearing, and feeling, the sharp intake of breath at the fullbodied (though, admittedly, Lavi was still completely clothed) contact.
"Oh?" Lavi ran both his hands, down the others side, before catching both wrists again, "Seems like you do, eh?" He bucked against the other's body, and smirked at the…positive results, "See? See? You aren't perfect. You don't fit the Messiah or whatever the hell you have goin' on in your head."
"But I--don't." A quick gasp and Lavi knew—Kanda had felt it, pressing back. "I--fuck," then a hiss.
"You? What?" Lavi mocked, "Tha's a bad habit, Yuu, not finishin' your sentences." He bucked again, half-for Kanda's reaction, and half for his—unfortunately growing—need.
He had self control, though, moreso than the apparently untouched male in front of him. He had to be thankful for that, at least, somewhat.
"Mm, nope. Tell me right here."
Lavi had the nerve to laugh—right in his face, "Oh? What? You hate being in reverse?" that probably wouldn't have made much sense, hell if Lavi really cared at that point, given he bucked again while saying that, and it was probably a bad idea to speak while—but—
"I am not a—" Kanda paused, "dammit—I know I'm not…that." He started clawing again, trying to break free of Lavi's grip.
Before Lavi had time to even guess at the other man's thoughts, something happened. Something happened that he hadn't quite expected, nor necessarily ruled out (it was what usually happened in a situation like this anyway). But—
It was violent.
And angry, heated, nowhere near passionate, but rough and—
Kanda Yuu had obviously been kissed before.
But Lavi pushed that off to the back corridors of his mind, instead focusing on pulling away because he was sure he tasted blood on his lips, and Kanda used far too much teeth than tongue and—
Well, what could he have expected?
Kanda's neck craned to follow him; not letting up; forcing him, almost, to participate. To participate when he hadn't expected it, nor wanted it.
Lavi managed to break the kiss, panting, and heaving, through far more work than he had wanted. He licked his lips and tasted the metallic taste of blood. On close inspection of Kanda's lips, the other's were coated in a soft sheen of the same liquid.
He didn't look satisfied.
"Teme," Just the simple word was fueled enough; it seemed the kiss had been the flame. Or, if Lavi had dared to get even more poetic, he would have said he himself was the 'flame'.
Another lick across his lips, with an added cock to the side, grind of the hips, and overly exuberant smirk, "Am I? How sweet. Do you get it now?"
And then the lips were back again; as sudden as they had been the first time. As unexpected; and violently bloody on a smaller scale but still—
This time Lavi fought back. Tongues clashed, teeth jarred, stung, and blood
"I know…I'm not…perfect." Kanda managed out in one pant, somehow forcing himself back farther against the wall.
"Oh?" Lavi broke for a moment, to take a breath, "Then…what are you?"
He had expected to hear "Human" or some other explicit term.
But he was only met with a kiss, much more violent, sadistic, long, and it was by no means surprising that he—
He liked it.
Another grind of his hips into the naked body in front of him, "Well?"
"I'm still not." Kanda left it at that, squirming, farther back, as Lavi pressed closer, gasping into the kiss this time, then shuddering.
A rather desperate sounding growl tore its way from the back of his throat, a mere second later, and then Lavi felt a different kind of heat coat his lower regions.
And he could feel the shame of the blush, heated on Kanda's cheeks.
That just made his next lines all the better.
"Neh?" He glanced down between them, lips spreading just a bit wider, "Looks like Yuu-chan couldn't hold it in!" It was a taunt at best, no means beyond that; no connection to seductiveness, but regardless, Kanda looked disgusted.
Disgusted with such a nice blush on his face.
"And you got my pants all dirty too," another glance, Kanda's face darkened, "Good thing they're white; or else, y'know, they'd stain an' all." He clucked his tongue—though it hurt, and he knew it was probably bleeding along with his lips—on the roof of his mouth, "Mm, maybe water'd wash it off? Or should I just strip?"
He raised an inquisitive eyebrow in Kanda's direction; smirking in even deeper satisfaction, as the blush became nearly palatable.
"You'd like that, neh?" He ground a bit more against the others now sensitive cock, "Your body would, anyway."
Kanda opened his mouth, "Fuck you."
Lavi chuckled, "I was more thinking I'd do you," another grind, and Kanda hissed, "I think it'd add t'y'know, the moment an' all." He squeezed the other's wrists, before yet again, dropping one down between their bodies. "Besides, you're a little…limp right now anyway and—"
"Shut the fuck up." Kanda cut him off, now no longer looking at him.
"Why?" He didn't see the need to ask, or the reason to stick around for the answer, but the question had come, and he could feel his cock twitch in the tight confines of his pants (which didn't help much, but he could stand it)—
It didn't help that Kanda didn't answer.
"Why?" Lavi repeated, ghosting a hand over his own restrained erection, hissing softly at the simple motion of the zipper being dragged down across it.
Kanda sucked in a breath.
"An' y'call me a perv," Lavi couldn't help but chuckle, "yet you're starin' at me like I'm openin' a birthday present, or something."
A deeper set scowl.
"But I guess this could be a birthday present, 'cept it's nowhere near your birthday." Noncommittal jabber, he knew, as he worked his pants down—hissing each time the fabric rubbed too much against his most precious (at least now, anyway) organ—to the tops of his boots.
"An' y'know," now he worked at the underwear, "if this was a birthday gift, it'd be a pretty crappy one 'eh?" He tried to smile, and tried to feel like he hadn't just killed whatever mood they had just sprung up—
It wasn't like they cared about each other.
It was just Kanda, and his fucking "I won't die" syndrome, and the tattoo he knew that caused it to be that way—and the infinite amount of other secrets the other kept, and that were erased (poorly, at that) from all his files—
All of it.
All of it
It made him angry.
"If it was my birthday." Kanda almost sounded pained as he said those five words, "You wouldn't be anywhere near me." A pause, "I wouldn't be anywhere near you." Lavi couldn't really care too much to wonder if that had just been added on, or if it was meant as a correction.
Either way, somehow, the bloodied kiss was back; and maybe he had manhandled the other a bit roughly—not that he cared, mind you—but this man, in front of him—the same age as him, and gorgeous, and this was everyone's secret fantasy he knew--
And he knew it was one Kanda never wanted fulfilled. He knew that.
But it was happening.
He was doing it.
He was backing Kanda up into that proverbial corner (no, not that corner of the bathroom, now under the hot spray of the shower, it wasn't that kind of corner. That was just a coincidence). He was trapping him, but Kanda didn't seem to mind.
He knew the dark haired man held a grudging friendship with him at best; he also knew that this was a form of payback too, for however the hell he screwed with the man's mind before. It was mutual in every since of the action.
Hate, annoyance, hate, annoyance, hate, bitterness, hate, hate—
When the other emotions mixed their way in, Lavi wrote it off as accidental. When the teasing games he so loved, took a turn and made him realize he truly did like them, and wouldn't mind teasing the other man no matter what persona he had—that could be written off as a simple pastime.
But the anger he felt, at the poorly white'ed out material of the Japanese man's files--that he couldn't explain. He could never find a solution to.
It was only a matter of time before the cork popped off and the drink overflowed.
So in a way, this was like alcohol too.
But then; that didn't make much sense either.
He let out a low chuckle at the pained sound of the others voice, as their head banged back once more against the corner. The chuckle turned mirthful at the string of colorful curses that followed, but yes.
Maybe this buzz was like alcohol. Except with more health benefits.
With careful maneuvering; blending; handling, and the alcohol mixed, evenly. It provided the perfect balance of that undeniable tang, and then the fruit—or any other ingredients—with small, individual bursts. Nothing stood out too much; or they stood out equally. Engraved into ones taste-buds.
Kanda was like that. A delicate wine.
Backed into the corner, of some cellar, waiting to be bought and opened (not that Kanda was an object). Enjoyed until the bottle was empty—
maybe—and then refilled, reused again for something; collected—
Had this been any other time; had Kanda's legs not been spread and hooked over each shoulder—had he not just started to position himself for an easy, but painful (on Kanda's part) entry—he would have felt mildly sickened.
But he wrote that off as well, with each furthering pound, into the other man. At each punctuated breath, Kanda took instead of a full-out gasp; each hiss that substituted for a moan; and each muffled grunt that substituted for a groan of pain.
And there would be pain.
Pain, and Anger, and irritation, and agitation, and teasing, and harping, and pushing away, with hints of worry, and the habitual need to fill in for all the poorly applied white-out and—
For the words that made up one complete page of lies.
What he knew about Kanda; what he had read, anyway; all lies.
"Neh, Kanda?" His lips felt dry and chapped; voice hoarse as he forced the words out, pausing his erratic thrusting.
He didn't even get a response, but then, he didn't need one.
"Who are you?"
He didn't care, after all. He just wanted to fill in. He just wanted to taste the wine. He just wanted to—
While he had him cornered. Because if he didn't, then he would never have him again.
"Can you tell me?"
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