disclaimer: disclaimed.
dedication: Christine. I—I'm sorry.
notes: vague AU where everything is happy. & not. mind-fucking & sob-inducing. like, all that most of the fandom does is cry (me included. I am one of those sobby bitches).

title: put some clothes on
summary: AVERT YOUR EYES, LAVI. — Kanda/Lenalee.






Watching Lenalee Lee train was one the male portion of the population of the Order's favourite pass-times.

Of course, Lenalee herself didn't understand why this was so.

But she'd come to accept it. It was literally at the point where when Lenalee went to train, they followed her around like ducklings and she just shrugged them off. Because really, what could they do? Stare at her boots?

(Wasn't that boring? Like, didn't they have better things to do than watch her make a fool of herself while she tripped all over the place in the guise of trying to get control over her Innocence?


But recently (correction: always), someone-who-was-probably-her-brother had cracked down on the men who watched her train, and left only Allen, Lavi, and Kanda. Allen because he could probably control Lavi, and Kanda because, well, he was Kanda.

And so Lenalee trained, happily oblivious, and the boys (read: Lavi and… mostly Lavi. Sometimes Allen but mostly Lavi. Always Lavi) watched avidly.

It was like watching a ballet; carefully choreographed and strategically gorgeous in the most violent way possible. Lenalee was deadly and so, so beautiful; hanging from the edge of heaven by her fingertips, skating down through the air on crimson boots made of her own blood.

Kanda refused to allow himself to watch it; Allen held back a nose-bleed or two and pretended he wasn't affected; and Lavi?

Lavi had no such qualms.

He pressed his palms to the glass that separated trainee and audience, nearly drooling and muttering obscene things to himself. Kanda twitched only marginally as long as they remained only mutters, and thus Lavi retained consciousness.

But sometimes, he really just couldn't control himself.


Lavi saw stars and passed out.

Allen gushed blood and passed out.

Kanda stomped past the glass, fuming. That girl—she was going to be the death of him—no, probably the entire order—no, probably the entire world. Her and her legs—that was—er—he was not looking okay.

"Lenalee," he barked. "Put some clothes on!"

Lenalee turned on one foot, and smiled at him. "Pardon?"

He grunted, and sloughed off his Exorcist coat to wrap it around her shoulders. Or maybe her hips. He had to do something about those legs of hers. For the sake of the world. And also so that he didn't have to beat the rest of Lavi's brain cells out of him.

"Kanda? Are you okay?"

He finished tying the coat around her waist. There. Covered. It was… less indecent. She would no longer be giving stray males any ideas.

Kanda was Pleased With Himself.

"Fine," he said.

Like this was a totally normal occurrence.

He turned around and disappeared behind the glass, dragging the still-unconcious pair of idiots behind them to probably drop them in a dumpster or something else equally fitting.

For a long time, Lenalee stood there with Kanda's jacket tied around her waist, utterly bemused.

For the next week, any time Allen or Lavi looked at her, the former would get a violent nosebleed, the latter would leer like an old man, and Kanda would get obscenely physical.

Just another ordinary day at the Black Order.