I've been trying to upload this since Saturday night (my time, GMT+7) but ffnet won't let me! SRSLY ffnet! Buuut yeah, got the trick on how to get through the error from the fanfiction authors page on facebook. Thanks a lot whover shared that trick!

Now onto the update :D

Title: Flashlight

Author: a1y-puff

Fandom: D. Gray-Man

Pairing: Kanda/Allen

Genre: Fluff/Angst and a bit of attempted humor.

Summary: Most of the time, Allen tried not to think about it—about what Lenalee called 'the butterfly in your stomach', because, wouldn't that indicate—no. No, no, he didn't want to go there. And besides, it was Kanda, the prick who acted like a five-year-old.

Word Count: ~7000

Warning: AU. Possible OOC-ness.

Disclaimer: I only own Michael. Oh and is Katsura's status confirmed yet? D:

Beta: Nherizu, Harmony283

A/N: OMG I'm so sorry that this is soooo LATE! But hey, this update is pretty lengthy an THERE IS A BONUS for this part; just read until the end and you'll see)

I'd also like to thanks ALL OF MY REVIEWERS because YOU ARE ALL AWESOME! I mean, 117 reviews for 5 chapters is…wow. Thanks so much and please keep them coming)

Special thanks to Nherizu, Harmony283 and Evanescent Silence for all their supports and ideas and for whipping my lazy ass into working on this piece. XD


- FLASHLIGHT -

Yullen Week, Day 6

Theme: War


For some reason, Lenalee seemed to be very interested in Kanda. She kept asking questions about him whenever she called. Or when she was here, hanging out with Allen in his dorm, because apparently, her motherly instinct kicked in and she was making sure Allen was recovering after he got sick last time.

It would have been fine and all, but—well. Allen was trying to finish an assignment, and here Lenalee was asking, "Say, where do you think Kanda is? It's pretty late and he's not back yet? He doesn't strike me as the type who hangs out with his friends until late at night."

Allen snorted. "I wonder if he even has friends," he grumbled, still trying to think of a phrase to fill the blanks in the lyric he was trying to compose. "And if he's not back until this late then he's probably painting in the studio," he added absentmindedly.

"Painting, huh."

Looking up from his worksheet, Allen asked, "You know, I might actually think you're interested in Kanda if you keep asking about him like that." And now he was frowning at Lenalee and—

She laughed. "Really now? Are you, by any chance, jealous?"

And that made Allen splutter. "What—NO! Why did you even—"

"You know, if you get all worked up like that, I'm going to assume it's true," she said lightly as she picked a cookie out of the jar. Yes, so she had brought Allen and Kanda another batch of cookies, since Allen had complained that Kanda had eaten most of them last time.

"That's not—"

Beep. Beep. Beeeeep.

Allen blinked, mouth still open from the unsaid retort. He turned his head back to the desk and noticed his phone flashing. Gotta be a text message. Grabbing his phone, Allen was only a little surprised to find Kanda's name flashing on the screen.

He hit the button to read the message, and—

/ Got paint on my hair /

Allen couldn't help the smile stretching on his face. His thumb quickly danced across the keypad to form a reply and it said:

/ what the HECK did u do? Stupid. Just come home n wash it then, u can even use my shampoo :p /

/ who needs ur stupid shampoo anyway? /

/ well it's certainly better than using soap 2 wash ur hair. Dork. /

"You know Allen," Lenalee suddenly spoke, reminding Allen of her presence in the room, "I've really gotta ask—who are you texting~?" she asked with a grin.

Allen eyed the girl warily. "It's just the idiot Kanda, why?"

"Oh? So he likes to text?" that was—a little unexpected, if she might say so.

And now that Allen thought about it—"Sort of? Usually he tells me to go buy stuff or to do something for him. Or just something random..." Though the last bit had only started—recently, right? Maybe Kanda finally got the gist of using his touch-screen phone. The guy could be a little technologically illiterate.

The smile on Lenalee's lips grew that much wider, and Allen wasn't sure if he liked it.

"What?"

Lenalee shook her head. "Nothing, just—you know, you were smiling." At Allen's raised eyebrow, she continued, "Usually, people smile when they get texts from someone they like. So."

"Wh—no, I—it's just because he said something stupid!" Allen thought he was going to choke from the words rushing from his throat in denial, and—why was he so flustered? He did not have to be flustered just because—

"Hmmm~"

Allen groaned. "Stop 'hmm'-ing at me," he scowled, "I hate it when you do that."

But Lenalee just let out a small chuckle. "Why? Because I know something that you don't?"

"No, just Allen didn't know what to say to counter her and—right. The assignment. "Look, I need to submit this tomorrow morning. Just—leave, okay, I need to concentrate," he finally said, half-pleading and half—something.

Lenalee just laughed, taking no offense because Allen looked quite embarrassed. "Alright, alright. Say hi to Kanda for me?"

Allen frowned again. "Yes, okay, I will." Lenalee laughed again, and Allen's frown deepened. "What?"

"Nah. You're so cute," she said, ruffling Allen's hair and winking, before finally taking her leave.

Well.

Allen went back to his assignment then, trying to concentrate and got back to the words for the lyric he was trying to work on, ignoring what Lenalee had said.

.

.

.

When Kanda came back about fifteen minutes later, though, Allen couldn't help laughing a bit seeing the yellow paint on the tip of Kanda's sidebangs. He got up from his bed and walked closer to Kanda and—without thinking, he just took the strands of Kanda's hair into his hand, examining it.

"What the heck did you do?" he couldn't help but ask, lips still formed in something that might be more than just a teasing smile. "Did you try to paint with your hair or something?"

Kanda growled lowly in his throat—threateningly, but that just made Allen laugh harder. "Shut the hell up."

"Y-yellow suits you," Allen managed between laughter, eyes sparkling with mirth and something akin to fondness. But he didn't get to continue laughing because Kanda was shutting him up again.

Read: Kanda was kissing him.

It didn't last long, but it was enough to make his laughter die down.

"I'm going to shower," Kanda said as soon as he pulled back, and then he just turned away to grab his towel and new clothes before disappearing behind the bathroom door. And Allen? He just stood there, staring in the bathroom direction a little longer than necessary, because—

His lips tingled longer than necessary, too.

.

.

.

There was something wrong with his stomach. Allen couldn't quite remember when exactly it started, but he thought maybe it was time for him to consume less instant food and more of real food. His stomach kept fluttering at odd times.

Like now—it was still fine when he was lazing around eating the cookies and reading a book, accompanied by his soothing music collection flowing through the earphones. Then Kanda came back and found that Allen almost ate all of the cookies, so he came over to Allen's bed and immediately inserted his hand into the cookie jar—but Allen slapped his wrist lightly.

"Have you even washed your hands?" he asked with a scowl.

Kanda snorted, shifting his backpack so he could ransack it for a bottle of hand sanitizer. He squeezed some onto his hand and rubbed both hands together, before turning back to Allen. "There, happy?"

"I'd prefer it if you washed your hand with soap," Allen mumbled, reaching into the cookie jar to take a piece of cookies, and when he pulled it out again, his hand brushed against Kanda's as it was reaching in. That was when he felt something in his stomach.

Allen blinked, not understanding what that was and dismissed it in favor of nibbling on his cookie. There weren't many left in the jar, since both of them had been failing to eat the cookies little by little like how Allen had wanted. So they might as well finish them now.

It was why he said nothing when Kanda sat down on his bed—because Allen was practically hugging the cookie jar with an arm—and for a while, they ate in silence. Allen tried going back to what he was reading but for some reason, he couldn't quite concentrate.

Soon, he noticed that there was only one cookie left in the jar, so he hurried and reached his hand into it but—Kanda had beaten him to it. Long, slender fingers already clamping the last of the cookies, before bringing it closer to a pair of thin lips and—

Crunch.

Allen could only watch as the crunchy, delicious cookie met its demise in Kanda's mouth. "That was the last one," he whined.

Kanda raised an eyebrow at him, chewing the last bite of said cookie before responding with a simple, "So? You've eaten a lot of it."

Allen pouted. "Yes, but the last one always tastes best."

"You're not making sense," Kanda snorted, then his tongue slipped out between his lips to lick the crumbs around his mouth and—Allen couldn't help but stare as Kanda's tongue swiped against his soft lips and—

Kanda took it as Allen still mourning for the last cookie—wasn't he supposed to anyway?—so Kanda just sighed, leaned in, and pressed his lips against Allen's, surprising the younger boy in the process.

Well. Allen certainly didn't expect it. Then again, he shouldn't be all that surprised with how often they would just randomly kiss lately. Not that Allen minded, but—there it was again, the weird feeling in his stomach as Kanda started moving his lips, pressing them against Allen's own, letting him taste the crumbs left on Kanda's lips . The fluttering feeling grew as Kanda opened his mouth a little wider, allowing Allen to wander a little deeper and—there was a slightly unpleasant ache somewhere in his chest and—

Allen broke apart. Kanda threw him a questioning look, but Allen just put a hand over his stomach and made a face. "My stomach feels weird," he explained.

Kanda snorted and stood up. "You had too much cookies," he answered in passing, walking over to his side of the room and putting his bag on his desk.

Allen hoped it was just as simple as that.

.

.

.

"It's called the butterfly in the stomach, you know," Lenalee said lightly and Allen choked on his soda.

He looked around, one hand blindly reaching for the box of tissue as he coughed, before pulling a sheet out to wipe his mouth with, then he spoke to the phone again, "But that's—"

"Not impossible, just so you know," she commented, and Allen could imagine her waving a dismissive hand. At Allen's stunned silence, she added, "What? It's a free country."

"That's not exactly the problem..."

"Oh? Then what is?"

"It's Allen started, turning his head to the phone a little as if he could glare at Lenalee through the device somehow, "There's just no way. I mean...it's Kanda—"

"What about me?"

Allen jolted at the new voice, and he really nearly dropped his phone in surprise. There, at the door of their shared bedroom, stood Kanda with damp hair clinging to his face, framing the sharp lines of his physiognomy.

Allen told himself that his heart only skipped a beat due to the surprise of Kanda suddenly walking in when Allen was talking about him. "Why are you soaked?" he asked instead, trying to change the topic.

Kanda raised an eyebrow. "It's snowing," he replied, tilting his head to the window and—oh right. It was. They got a pretty late snow, huh. "Who the heck are you talking to?"

Allen turned his head back at the question. "Oh, umm. It's just Lena—"

"And?" his roommate stepped closer, leaning his face in front of Allen with narrowed eyes. "You were talking about me because?"

"I wasn't Kanda leaned even closer, and even through the slits of his eyes, Allen could see how dark Kanda's eyes were. "J-just saying you're a jerk!" he finally responded, face warming up more than necessary.

Kanda's frown deepened, so he leaned in to give Allen a headbutt hard enough to make Allen yelp and his forehead sting. With that, Kanda pulled back, dropped his bag on his desk before going back out of the room.

Allen just watched, one hand pressed over his stinging forehead whilst Lenalee giggled. It was when he realized that he still had the phone pressed against his right ear, and...

And his stomach was fluttering.

Well, shite.

.

.

.

Most of the time, Allen tried not to think about it—about what Lenalee called 'the butterfly in your stomach', because, wouldn't that indicate—no. No, no, he didn't want to go there. And besides, it was Kanda, the prick who acted like a five-year-old. A terribly good-looking five-year-old that kissed like a champ, but a five-year-old nonetheless.

He tried to focus on schoolwork instead. He had an exam coming up in a few weeks, and his assignments were mounting up that it wasn't even funny. He had music sheets to write, verses to complete and pieces to practice. Between trying to juggle all that, sometimes Allen could forget the weird feelings growing inside him towards a certain roommate.

That was only until Kanda came back to the dorm, though, because by then whatever that was in Allen's mind would come to a screeching halt as his eyes would automatically follow him.

Like now, he'd been busy trying to finish up the short piece that was due in two days when Kanda came back to their room. He watched as Kanda dropped his bag on the desk with less grace than usual—a sign that Kanda was tired and would probably be either in a worse mood than usual, or he'd be oddly quiet. His eyes followed the slender fingers as they carded into thick, black strands to pull at the hairband, freeing the long hair and letting it cascade down his back.

Then, Allen blinked, because—he did it again, didn't he? Staring at Kanda. He blamed Lenalee for this. It was because the girl was putting ideas into his head—

"The hell are you doing?"

Allen looked up, and suddenly, Kanda was already there, by his bed. "Wh-what?"

"You're zoning out, moron," Kanda clucked his tongue and, on a whim, roughly ruffled Allen's hair. "You do that a lot lately."

He did? Allen looked down, frowning at his worksheet. "I'm just tired."

A snort answered him. "Can't blame you," he sighed and—it was when that hand ruffled his hair again that Allen realized Kanda's hand was still there, in his hair. That realization also brought him to notice the mixed scent of paint and mint from Kanda's unbound hair, and his eyes traced up from the tips of raven strands, up the smooth texture of said hair, then up, up to Kanda's face—to his eyes, which were staring right back at him, and—

And they stayed like that, long enough for the atmosphere to turn awkward. Allen broke eye contact just as Kanda retracted his hand, leaving Allen feeling relieved but also missing the warmth already.

He didn't look up again even when Kanda walked back to his side of the room, keeping his eyes on the worksheet as if it was the most interesting sheet in existence. He didn't want to look at Kanda right now, because—

Allen glared down at his stomach, willing it to stop being so—fluttery.

.

.

.

Allen tapped his pencil against the wooden table as he tried to think of the song he was trying to compose. It turned out that the professor wanted them to write a lyric for the short piece that had been assigned before, and Allen had been struggling to think of what to write.

He knew the piece was not quite happy-sounding.

Leaning back against the wooden paneling on the wall, Allen stared up at the high ceiling of the lodge before closing his eyes. He'd been sitting there at the lodge since—what, eight pm? He had needed a change of atmosphere since locking himself in his room apparently didn't help much with the progress.

And Kanda wasn't there.

Allen figured he'd stay in the art studio until very late at night like he'd been doing for the past few days, so he had decided to go to the lodge for a change of air. The lodge was just by the diner area, with wooden tables and benches. Only one person had been in there when Allen came, occupying the other table. Generally, people prefer to sit in the diner area, so the lodge was perfect for Allen to be alone and mind his own business.

He'd been sitting there for—he'd lost count, but now he was alone at the lodge, and there was barely a soul in the adjoining diners.

He lifted his legs up to the bench and pulled his knees to his chest to help fight off the cold weather, even though he was already wearing his favorite thick sweater. The wooden bench felt a little cold on his butt, but it helped him concentrate and not doze off.

His eyes darted to the beige wall which was decorated with some block arts in the shape of staggered frames carved with floral designs. Then he glanced down at his sheet on the table again, eyes skimming the words that were already written on the paper. He wanted to bang his head against the nearest hard surface.

So he did; turning his head to the side to knock it against the wall once, twice and—

"...the hell, beansprout, did you finally lose it?"

Allen jolted at the sudden familiar voice, and his knees hit the table, making his pencil roll away and onto the floor. He immediately bent over to pick it up but—another hand beat him to it, and when he looked up, he was greeted by Kanda's frowning face.

Allen blinked. "I thought you'd still be in the studio."

"I'm done already. Do you even know what time it is?" Allen only blinked at him, and Kanda sighed. "It's almost midnight."

"Huh? Really?"

"Really," Kanda deadpanned and dropped himself on the bench next to Allen. He eyed the paper in front of Allen and snatched it before Allen could even blink. "What's this?"

"Hey, don't Allen tried to take it back, but Kanda just held it away from Allen, and started reading the half-written song.

Figuring it was too late to try and hide it, Allen just leaned back against the wall and pulled his legs back up and hugged his knees again, looking away. God, this was embarrassing. What was written there was—well.

Mostly about loneliness. A glance of an empty room where there used to be a presence of someone, causing a void in his heart. He leaned back against the wall on his side, hesitantly stealing a glance at Kanda as the latter squinted his eyes, trying to read in the rather dim lighting. Kanda's face was set in a curious frown. "This is..."

"Homework," Allen replied, resigned. Yes, he had to admit at least to himself that he mainly got the inspiration from how often he found himself sitting alone in their shared room without Kanda. And even if the song wasn't all about his roommate, it was the trigger to evoke Allen's memories on how it had always been before he moved into the dorm and had a roommate.

Back then, he was used to being all alone in the house that wasn't actually big, but still was too big for himself. Cross was mostly not at home, and there would be times when Allen would just sit there in the dark, reminiscing his memories on Mana and—that—every time he remembered those moments, it always felt like there was a hole labeled loneliness opening underneath him and swallowing him up, and—

Kanda snapped his fingers in front of Allen's face, jolting the boy out of his thoughts. "You're zoning out again," he sighed and put the paper back down on the table. "When do you have to submit this?"

Allen blinked, and he didn't know if he should be glad that it was the only thing Kanda asked. "Umm...in two days?"

Kanda hummed, before standing up and turned to Allen. "Then let's go back and get some sleep now.
You can finish it later."

Allen looked up, and when he made no move to get off of the bench, Kanda frowned at him, motioning with his head to get up and go already. So he picked up his papers and pencil before standing up, trailing behind Kanda.

Kanda didn't have his backpack with him.

So did that mean... Kanda had gone back to their room and then went out again to look for him? That—that was just—

It was cheesy, maybe. Sappy, even, but the realization made warmth spread inside his chest and—and Kanda was just there, walking just slightly in front of him. A solid presence.

He was there, and Allen didn't feel so alone anymore.

Kanda turned his head and frowned, because apparently, Allen had halted in his tracks. He let out what looked like a long-suffering sigh, before just grabbing Allen's wrist and dragging him down the hallway and up the stairs at the corner. Allen could only watch, feeling the warm hand and the firm grip on his wrist and how his heart skipped a beat.

And his stomach? Allen didn't think he could call that 'fluttery' anymore, because it went beyond that. Allen groaned in what might be frustration. When Kanda threw him a weird look, he could only shake his head.

Damn, he really liked Kanda, didn't he?

.

.

.

"It's all your fault," Allen said accusingly, staring morosely at whatever he could see from his music sheet. The moonlight filtering in from the window wasn't all that bright, and Allen couldn't even see the lamps along the pathway he would usually see outside the window.

"What?" Kanda replied irately.

"It's. All. Your. Fault."

Kanda snapped. "Like the blackout's my fault. How can you prove that?"

"Well—I just can," the boy shot back, turning on his desk chair to face Kanda's general direction. Yes, he knew how childish he was sounding now, but he couldn't help himself. He was—frustrated, to say the least. "Now I can't get any work done, and even my keyboard needs to be plugged—"

"Doesn't that thing have batteries?"

"Yeah, but they needed to be replaced and I haven't bought the new ones," Allen almost wailed, burying his face in his hands. Yes, he knew Kanda didn't have anything to do with his keyboard being the older type or that the electricity was friggin' dead because of some fallen trees hitting the cable or how he still had to finalize his song for the assignment. But Kanda did have a role in making Allen unable to work on stuff properly. It was his fault that—

"And you're going to blame me?"

"Yes."

Because Kanda had been invading his thoughts. Especially since the night Allen realized his feelings for his sorry excuse of a roommate. Kanda snorted, and even in the dark, Allen could see how his eyebrows met in an annoyed frown. Allen was the one who should be annoyed, dammit.

Kanda went on, obviously oblivious to Allen's inner turmoil. "That's the shittiest start to an argumen-

And before he knew it, Allen was crushing their lips together. He didn't even realize when he'd stood up from his chair and taken a couple of steps to Kanda's desk. What he did know was—that Kanda's lips were ironically soft compared to the words he spat out.

Kanda made a sound of protest, hand gripping Allen's shoulder in warning, but the boy only pressed harder against him, nudging his lips open with a tongue. Allen wondered if his stress showed in the way he kissed, because Kanda finally relented without that much of a fight.

So he slipped his tongue inside, his movement was clumsy, and—well, a little frustrated. His back and neck were starting to hurt too, because Kanda was still sitting there—he hadn't moved an inch and he probably wasn't going to. Allen could feel a crick forming on the back of his neck, so he tilted his head to alleviate some of the pain, and proceed to lower himself onto Kanda's lap.

He was only thankful that Kanda didn't shove him off right then and there.

But Kanda showed his resistance in the way his tongue pushed back against Allen's, trying to get it out of his mouth. Allen frowned and bit Kanda's lower lip. There. That seemed to do the trick for now, because Kanda released what might be a scoff through his nose and leaned back against his swivel chair.

The air was getting colder. With the power outage, the heater wasn't working, and Allen was the type who got chilled easily. Maybe he didn't even realize it when he pressed closer to Kanda, seeking the warmth provided by his body. Maybe Kanda also didn't quite notice that his arms were wrapped around Allen's smaller frame in a loose embrace.

On a whim, Allen opened his eyes. With their lips still pressed against each other, he could see how long Kanda's lashes were in the moonlight. Somehow he was glad to have perfected his night vision, so he could see the small details on Kanda's face—how relaxed he seemed to be when the kiss turned from a fierce to a slow and chaste one and—

His stomach churned, heart beating twice, or maybe even three times its regular speed, and the aching in his chest grew.

Allen broke the kiss, panting and feeling his face hot—though in this darkness, he just hoped Kanda couldn't see how hard he was blushing. Or god forbid hear how loud his heart was thundering against his chest.

Suddenly, there was a loud knocking on their door before said door was thrown open with an excited-looking Michael bursting in. "Hey guys! I foun—oh."

They both froze, eyes squinting as the light was directed right at their face, then down to their glued bodies and—oh no, oh bloody—

Allen really nearly jumped backwards, surprising Kanda who still had his arms around him. "What the fu—"

"It's not what you think!" Allen exclaimed, face flushed with embarrassment and—what, just what—

Michael only laughed. "Naww, dun worry 'bout it. I have nothing against you two dating each other, really," he remarked lightheartedly, waving the hand with the flashlight and causing the spotlight to move up and down on the wall.

Allen's jaw dropped. "We're not dati—"

"Yeah right, dude. Ya can't fool me. S'fine, really. It's been going on for a while, right?" the brunette grinned, stretching his chubby, freckled cheeks. He took a step closer, revealing his hand holding an emergency lamp. "Anyway, I just came to say I found my emergency lamp, but Imma go out now, so ya lovebirds can borrow this, here."

He held out the small lamp with white light and Kanda accepted it, scowling all the while. "What birds? We don't have wings, moron."

Allen threw Kanda an incredulous look, and Michael just laughed harder. "You do have wings," the brunette flapped his free hand, "S'called th' wings of love~"

"What the fu—"

"Aaaanyway. Gotta go now, so I'll leave you two alone, ta-ta and with that, Michael turned on his heels and walked out of the room, leaving the two roommates behind the closed door.

Well.

Kanda walked to the desk, putting the lamp right between the two wooden tables, and Allen followed his movement with his chrome eyes, again. There was just—something about the whole conversation with Michael that sounded wrong but also...

Also what exactly?

Shaking his head, Allen stepped closer to the desk. "I think we should share the lamp. You were still working on that sketch, right? I need to look over the music sheet for a bit," even if it was going to be kind of difficult without the keyboard. Maybe he should just tweak the lyrics for now. That should be doable.

Kanda just shrugged and pulled his chair up near the lamp, opening his sketchbook again. The way he went straight back to work was like—like nothing had happened. Like that kiss...didn't happen, and that—

Why the bloody hell should Allen think about that?

So Allen set to go back to work, grabbing his music sheet and pencil and pulling his chair up next to Kanda's. The emergency lamp wasn't all that big, so they had to sit close to each other if they wanted to share the light.

Trying to concentrate, Allen tried not to think on the way their knees touch, or the kiss earlier, or—or about something that was nagging at the far corner of his mi—

Oh. Right. Kanda didn't really deny the 'lovebirds' comment, did he?

.

.

.

Time ran past as if it was in a hurry, and before Allen knew it, exams rolled around. Allen really wanted to bang his head against his desk when he realized that not much of the lessons got absorbed into his head due to otherthings forcing their ways into his head.

Like, for example, the lack of denial for the lovebirds comment.

Yeah, it didn't necessarily mean anything. For all he knew, Kanda might have just thought it was unnecessary to explain, since Michael was someone who was quick to judge, and once he had an assumption, it would be hard to convince him otherwise.

Yet his mind wouldn't listen to that reasoning and kept reminding Allen about it.

Another thing that was bothering him was the growing ache in his chest whenever they kissed. He only started paying attention to it recently, but he didn't want to think about why it was there.

He knew anyway.

So Allen tried not to kiss Kanda too much before the exam. It was easier to do, because both of them were busy studying anyway. Kanda didn't even suspect him of giving them both some space. Allen hoped he could concentrate more this way, and Kanda didn't even seem to notice the sudden distance.

Apparently, that didn't go too well.

It was the fourth exam, which happened to be his most difficult one of all. He'd spent the night trying to cram in everything he needed to learn into his head, until it was past midnight and Kanda had to drag him to bed because—Kanda claimed that Kanda himself needed some gooddamn sleep and that he needed the lamp off. By that point, Allen couldn't really argue much because he already felt like a zombie.

Now though, as he walked out of his class with a heavy weight on his shoulders, he wished he could have studied more.

Oh, he was so going to fail.

His steps were heavy as he walked out of the campus building, and even when his head was tilted down in a dispirited gesture, Allen barely noticed the snow-covered ground or the crunching sounds his shoes made with each step.

He refused to imagine the grades he was going to get for the semester, but his rather creative mind kept supplying him with not-so creative marks written with red ink and how Cross would react if he found out. That wasn't such a pleasant mental image, and he really wanted to bang his head against the nearest hard surface.

Allen wondered why he got that urge a lot lately.

"Bean sprout?"

Blinking, Allen raised his head and saw Kanda not far from where he was currently standing. The taller roommate was walking from the other building direction, and in a few long strides, he was now already standing in front of Allen, frowning.

"You look like shit."

Oh, he wasn't just looking like shit, alright? "Well what do you think?" Allen just suddenly ranted, "I just know I failed today's exam. And then yesterday I wasn't doing all that well either. And you know what? The professor didn't really like that assignment I worked so bloody hard on."

"Oi—"

"I don't even want to imagine Cross' reaction when he sees my grades. I wish he wouldn't care about them just like he never cares about me, but he cares! I just know that he only likes to rub it in my face and make me work like I'm some sort of a and he went on and on, at length and in unpleasant details. He didn't know why he was like this. Randomly ranting out wasn't exactly his cup of tea, but he couldn't quite control it. It was like something had snapped inside of him, probably due to his stress, and—and Kanda was just there, so.—only because I can't focus, and I can't blame anyone but mysel—eep!"

There was something cold and wet pressed against his cheek. And when he said cold, he meant cold. What—he glanced at his left cheek's direction and found that Kanda had pressed a snowball against it. "What on earth are youdoing? It's cold!" Allen snarled, grabbing Kanda's wrist to pull itaway from his face.

"That's exactly the point," Kanda deadpanned, "I'm cooling your stupid head."

"Wh but again, Allen didn't get to finish his words because the aforementioned snowball had been thrown at his face. It took him off guard, and he yelped loudly as the cold substance hit his skin. Once he got over the shock, Allen looked up and saw Kanda smirking down at him, looking far too smug for Allen's liking. "You—"

So it wasn't his fault if Allen bent down and quickly gathered the snow on the ground into his palm and made it into a ball, getting ready for a revenge, right? Kanda noticed this, so he moved away, but he didn't get very far when Allen threw it, and Kanda only managed to tilt his head a bit to the side when the snow collided with his cheek.

Freezing, Kanda slowly turned to Allen, eyes narrowing dangerously, making the smug grin on allen's face falter. Then, Kanda quickly bent down to grab a handful of snow and fisted it as Allen was preparing to flee, then Kanda just threw. The snowball zoomed in Allen's direction, scoring a hit at the back of the boy's head as Allen tried to escape.

Yelping, Allen turned on his heels and quickly swoop a handful of snow, and with a loud, "Take this!" he threw the snowball as hard as he could, hitting the side of Kanda's head this time.

Soon, they degenerated into loud, childish boys throwing snowballs and shouting at each other. It was when a stray shot hit an idle passerby that more people were involved in the fight. Before they knew it, many were throwing snowballs at them, and at each other. Both familiar and unfamiliar faces were now participating in the 'battle royal' the snowball fight had turned to be, there on the campus ground.

Allen didn't know how it turned into this, but he didn't mind even if he were hit by more snowballs than he would have liked. He didn't mind it all that much, especially when two snowballs randomly hit Kanda from two different directions, hitting his head and the back of his neck. Kanda growled menacingly, a string of curses leaving his thin lips as he started gathering snowballs and threw them left and right. The sight of snow piling on Kanda's head, shoulders, and even in his hair made Allen fall on his knees and laugh until his stomach hurt.

He was still laughing, even as Kanda tackled him and forced a handful of snow onto his face. But that didn't mean Allen wasn't going to fight back, because he was struggling, fisting snow from the ground beside him and pushing it onto Kanda's face. They kept like that, with Allen's legs kicking the air futilely.

The snow-covered ground was cold against his clothed back, and Kanda pressing the cold substance onto his face certainly didn't help the feeling. But there was warmth in his chest, and it spread when he saw the smug grin on Kanda's pretty face, and how he just suddenly pinched Allen's nose.

It surprised him, and Allen flailed his arms before trying to pull Kanda's hand away from his nose. But then Kanda let out what might be a chuckle, and it made Allen feel lighter, like the heavy weight on his shoulders was no more.

.

.

.

They were kissing. Again.

Allen didn't quite remember how it started, but at least he knew that it happened after they'd gotten back to the dorm and out of their wet jackets due to the impromptu snowball fight. Other than that, Allen couldn't quite recall at the moment because the kiss was just a little too intense for its own good. Kanda was being particularly aggressive, and he took Allen's breath away. Literally.

Not that he minded, though. Because they hadn't kissed for a while, had they? Blame the mounting assignments and exams. Though he wished Kanda could be a little gentler. There was not much he could do when he was pressed up against the door, really. He was only glad Kanda had enough sense not to press his back against the door handle. That would be painful.

Breathing through his nose was kind of difficult, but Allen had no choice because he didn't think Kanda was letting up anytime soon. He'd given up fighting Kanda's persistent tongue, though he still tried not to make too much noises at the way Kanda's tongue caressed the inside of his cheek, teased the underside of his tongue and slid up to tickle the roof of his mouth. It made Allen feel a little weak, so his hands involuntarily came up to Kanda's back and fisted his shirt.

He didn't quite notice when Kanda's hand had moved from trapping him against the door to merely settling on his hips.

The kiss finally broke for air, and Allen greedily inhaled the much-needed oxygen into his respiratory system. With flushed face and kiss-swollen lips, Allen was still struggling to breathe. The hands on Kanda's shirt twitched, tightening for a second before loosening again as the boy took a deep breath and exhaled, slowly, trying to return to his normal breathing pattern. His eyes weren't focused on anything but the general direction of the floor, but his head snapped up when Kanda squeezed his hip lightly.

"Out of breath already, brat?" came the mocking voice, and Allen's eyebrows immediately met in a frown. Oh, he hated that smug look.

"I'm not..." He paused to take more air in, "...out of breath," he finished lamely, knowing how untrue his statement was but—he wasn't going to admit it.

Kanda smirked a little wider and leaned in closer, and Allen inched back out of reflex, until he could feel the back of his head pressed against the wooden door. "Really, now," he drawled—drawled!—and leaned in even closer. When his roommate's hand came up to his cheek, Allen froze, and—

Kanda was kissing him again. This time, they were slower, more relaxed ones. Allen could still breathe in between the kisses, or sometimes, through his nose. This time, the kisses weren't as demanding, so Allen allowed himself to relax. But the boy couldn't deny that his heart skipped a beat when Kanda's hand brushed across his cheek and into his hair, before settling on the back of his head to help angle his face better.

There it was again. There was warmth spreading in his chest, while in his stomach, butterflies were erratically fluttering about and bumping against each other. It felt like his stomach was doing a flip-flop, really. Then, Kanda pressed harder, mouth working against Allen's own in a slow yet insistent movement.

The ache in his chest started growing as their bodies pressed against each other more. Slowly, he felt his chest tighten in an unpleasant way, nearly suffocating him, but Allen knew it wasn't the lack of air. And suddenly, Kanda's left hand crept up from his hip, slipping underneath his shirt and—waitwaitwait what—

It wasn't because Kanda's cold hand felt icy against his warm skin, no. The surprise went beyond the physical touch itself—it was more like Allen didn't expect it to hurt so much.

It hurt too much to be nothing.

So he shoved Kanda with both hands, surprising the older male as the kiss was violently broken.

"What the Allen's hands were still pressed against Kanda's chest, keeping him literally at an arm-length. He didn't dare looking up to Kanda's face. Heck, Allen didn't even know how his face looked like at the moment.

"...oi, beansprout?"

"...can't..." Allen croaked out through his constricted throat. He cleared his throat, willing his voice to work normally, before speaking up again. "Sorry, I—can't do this anymore."

That only served to make Kanda even more confused. He frowned deeper, especially when Allen made no move to raise his head and look him in the eye. Grabbing Allen's wrist, Kanda tugged at it so that boy would look at him, and asked, "Do what?"

Allen finally raised his head, daring himself to look Kanda in the eye. His mouth was open, but no words came out, so Allen cleared his throat and tried again. "This," he began, tugging his hand which was still in Kanda's grip, "I can't do this—I can't kiss you anymore."

There, he said it. Allen cast his eyes downward right afterward. Did Kanda get it? That he—

"Why?" at the question, Allen looked up again and—there was something in Kanda's face. Something else beside the utterly confused look in his eyes, but Allen couldn't really pinpoint what it was. "If it's about my hand..."

"No," Allen shook his head. "No, it's not that—"

"Then why?" Kanda was starting to sound a little frustrated, and a lot baffled. Allen couldn't help smiling a little, albeit bitterly.

The hand that wasn't held hostage by Kanda fell limply to his side, and Allen tilted his head; that bitter smile still etched on his physiognomy. "Why do you think?" he asked back, but Kanda did nothing else but stare at him, silently demanding an answer. Allen let out a sigh, wiggling his hand free from Kanda's own, before finally answering, "Because, stupid, I like you."

If this were any other situation, Kanda's dumbfounded face would have made Allen laugh. But as it was, it only added to the unpleasant throb in his chest.

"I'm going to shower," Allen informed in a small voice and walked past Kanda to the bathroom's direction, leaving Kanda staring at him in silence—probably still taking in what Allen had just said.

Allen didn't look back.


~NeverEnding~


Alright, people, there's only one chapter left. I'm really sorry but the last part will take a while to write because it's going to be bloody difficult and I only have so little time to write, sorry. Please be patient?

Also, REVIEWS keep me going, they're my motivation to write so if you like this fic so far, I'd love it if you leave me your reviews, too? Getting fave alerts without reviews is kind of disheartening, TBH, so)

Thank you for your support so far, though! I promise I will finish this! And anyway, here's the promised bonus:

http a1y-puff. deviantart. com art KandaxAllen-Snowball-Fight-201521346 (remove the spaces please)

Let me know what you think of it too? Thanks!

EDIT 29/03/11: Nayru-chan has made an awesome fanart for this chapter here: http nayru-chan. deviantart. com art Days-Passing-By-202786176 (remove the spaces and just CHECK IT OUT! YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO 8D)