Hi everyone! Happy Yullen Week! I must be crazy for doing this, this year. I'm doing all fourteen themes, but I'm only on the third chapter as I'm writing this. Hopefully I can keep them all on time, but bear with me if I can't. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. It will be all one continuous story.
Rating: Probably T, but I'm making it M just in case. Because even I'm not sure what every line will say.
Beta'd by: My Moyashi, the ever awesome and incredible, Starisia the Shadow Demon.
Of Monsters and Men
Chapter 1: Winter Mornings
Theme: Off the Maps
Allen let out a slow, contented sigh, still more than half asleep and holding on to the blurred remnants of his dream, the surreal images dancing with the tips of his fingers, keeping out of reach, breathing "com hither" into his ears but slowly getting farther and farther away. He curled himself into a loose fetal position, a partial smile on his lips at the responding movements from the body next to him, adjusting to fit more comfortably against his back. A heavy breath drifted across his shoulder, followed by a quiet, sleepy sound. It pulled him even more away from his precious sleep and he stretched, feeling cloth against his bare legs and warm puffs of air against his neck.
Shifting, he pressed his face into the sheets, his eye against the creases of the misplaced pillow. The formerly limp arm draped over his waist shifted, crawling its way up to his chest and holding him tight against a bare chest. He made a noise, refusing to open his eyes, even with the feel of thin lips pressed tiredly to his shoulder.
"Time is it…?" Came the sleep-thick drawl against his skin, the voice like gravel as its owner slowly pulled himself into the land of the living. He made a distant sound, not answering him as he clutched desperately onto the scattered and quickly fading remains of oblivion. "Moyashi… hmmn… time…"
"Time to check it yourself…" He growled, pressing his face harder into the sheets, hurting his nose and making it hard to breath. There was a low, indistinct murmur behind him before the bed dipped as his partner shifted, leaning over him, the thick braid draping partially over him. Another murmur before he settled back against him once more. He could feel the warm chest rise and fall against his back as the breathing against his skin evened out. It must still be early just yet.
Allen turned his head back, relieving the pressure against his sore nose as he settled back against his partner in a more comfortable position. He let himself begin to drift, losing himself to an in-between state of not-asleep-sleep. He was still too warm, the temperature rising until he began to sweat. Opening his eyes, he found that the sun had begun to peek through the gaps in the blinds, falling across the blankets in patches. He sat up, looking around the room and finding it hard to focus on anything beyond two feet. Allen grimaced, his face contorting in pain as a pounding headache split through his skull, quickly making itself known. He groaned, world spinning long after he found himself back down on the pillow. He draped an arm across his eyes, trying to put pressure on his head and hopefully keep it from breaking into pieces and keep out the light, as little as there was.
He opened his eyes once more at the sound of bare feet stepping across a wooden floor, looking up at the blurry form of his lover. His vision slowly cleared a bit as the other man leaned close, saying something that seemed too loud in his ears despite him not being able to understand a single word. He groaned in response, not daring to speak with the way he stomach churned, aching like he was repeatedly being kicked from the inside. He closed his eyes as Kanda pressed a cool hand to his forehead, partially covering his eyes at the same time. His hand was probably warm, but right now, compared to how hot he felt, it was like draping ice across his skin. It was heaven. The hand seemed to force the headache back until it was nothing but a dull throb in the back of his skull. As the pressure began to lift, Allen planted his own hand across Kanda's, making him leave it there so he could keep all the cold to himself. It was only when his skin began to warm, losing the chill, that he let him go, dropping his arm to the side of his head. He opened his eyes, staring at his boyfriend with unfocused eyes, his face, which had relaxed when the headache had begun to fade, contorted again as it returned full-force with a vengeance.
"Kanda, I don't feel good," he croaked, giving a pitiful attempt at a grin. His lover leaned down, pressing his forehead against his own.
"I realize that, stupid," Kanda said back, his voice lowered, taking mercy on his sensitive ears. He turned his head away, trying to get him to lean away, not wanting him to get sick. Even if Kanda never caught even a spring cough, he didn't want to risk it. But his lover didn't budge, going as far as kissing him before sitting back far enough to see his face. Allen watched him, calling him an idiot before closing his eyes as the headache worsened.
Kanda sighed, saying something that he didn't quite catch. The bed moved as Kanda stood, walking away. Allen could hear the sound of plastic and whatever liquid was pouring from it into a glass. He opened his eyes, looking through the door and down the hall to their small kitchen as his lover rummaged through the cupboards, pulling out a bottle of Buckley's. Allen groaned, turning over and hiding his face in the bed. What god did he piss off to deserve this?
Footsteps heralded Kanda's return and Allen grumbled his displeasure, knowing that the bottle was in his hand. "Come on, dumbass. It's your fault for getting sick. Now take it."
"Never!" He yelled into the mattress, his cracked voice muffled. He dragged the blankets over his head in a poor attempt at hiding from his lover. The man ripped them off him seconds later.
"Don't be a brat, Moyashi. You will drink it, even if I have to shove the bottle down your throat." Kanda snapped, standing on the bed. Allen turned over, glaring up at his lover as the older man planted a foot on either side of him and dropped down, keeping him in place. He grabbed the pillow, covering his face with it and using it as a shield against Kanda. The other man seemed to lean away from him with the way his weight was shifting, lessening on one side. He could hear the sound of a cap unscrewing and the clinking of a spoon on the nightstand. He gulped, his grip on the pillow tightening.
"Open up, Moyashi," Kanda said, a wicked note in his voice. Allen knew he was enjoying this when there should be no pleasure of any kind that came from giving someone cough syrup.
"Make me," Allen croaked back. He regretted the words almost instantly, knowing his lover would take it as an invitation. His grip tightened again as Kanda began to tug the pillow away. With his strength stolen by whatever cold he had, Allen hardly managed to put up a fight. The pillow was gone within minutes. He clamped his mouth shut, turning his head away when he saw the spoon.
"Moyashi," Kanda growled, his voice holding a warning. He shook his head, glaring at him from the corner of his eye. He watched as the spoon got closer to his mouth, reacting automatically to push it away.
He could feel the cold liquid dripping down his arm, under his pajama sleeve. Allen paused in his struggles, looking up at his hand and the dark cough syrup that was once contained in the spoon he had hit. Swallowing despite how sore his throat was, he looked up at the deceptively blank face of his lover. Kanda just stared at him for a while before leaning over to the nightstand again and dropping the spoon on it.
Allen used this chance to escape, clambering out from under his lover and off the other side of the bed. His feet met the cold floor, his toes tingling as the blood rushed back to them. He rushed around the bed, trying not to crash to the floor with the way the room was spinning and his head was pounding. He made a dash for the door, only to be caught before he could leave the room. Kanda wrapped his arms around his waist, hauling him back to the bed kicking and croaking. After planting him down, his lover pressed his lips to his, making him pause in his escape attempts. Long eyelashes brushed his as Kanda deepened the kiss. Allen lost himself in the feeling, torn between wanting it to continue and to prevent his boyfriend from sharing his bedridden fate. But Kanda seemed adamant about continuing it with the way he pressed his tongue between Allen's lips.
Allen closed his eyes, melting into the kiss as he sought out Kanda's taste. But that was funny, he tasted like-
The liquid was bitter and gross, biting his tongue as it flowed into his mouth from his lover's. His body reacted, swallowing the liquid before his mind could tell it to spit it out. He coughed, choking and shoving Kanda away, glaring at him as he wiped his chin from the drops that hadn't made it through the exchange.
"A-asshole!" He choked out, flopping backwards on the bed as he tried to catch his breath.
"Every single time, Moyashi! Will you ever not fall for that?"
"Go to work, asshat!"
"You want me out that bad, Moyashi? How cold." Kanda feigned being hurt, going as far as placing a hand on his bare chest. Allen grabbed the pillow throwing it blindly in his general direction.
He heard him chuckle from the hallway moments before the shower began running. Allen heaved a sigh, sitting up and crawling to the head of the bed before getting under the covers. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly and deeply, noticing how his lungs were beginning to ache. It was probably from choking. He groaned, placing Kanda's pillow over his pounding head. It smelt like him. And a bit like Buckley's. It must have been either from his sleeve, where the cough syrup had been spilt, or some of it had gotten onto the pillow. The escape attempt had left him hurting worse off than before, which dredged up the question of why he was sick in the first place. He hadn't shown signs of being anything but a healthy twenty-three year old man with an idiot for a boyfriend the day before, nor the one before that. It was rare for him to get sick, and even then, not this badly.
He sighed, the simple act of thinking making his head feel that much worse. He halted his thoughts, listening to the muted sound of the shower and the splatter of water hitting the plastic floor every time Kanda wrung out his hair. Slowly, he began drifting off, still too hot but too weak to stay awake.
Cold slowly replaced the warmth, the switch like falling into a lake in the middle of summer in slow motion. The cold was more than a relief, it was mercy upon his aching body. It pushed away the pain, at first. But before long, it began to numb his limbs and bite his skin. His pajama's felt wet, soaking almost, and icy cold.
Allen cracked his eyes open, closing them again almost instantly against the sting of being blinded. "Kanda, close the blinds!" He cried, rolling onto his stomach. The shock from just how freezing it was snapped him awake. He opened his eyes all the way, rolling to his back and sitting up in a matter of seconds. He expected the world to spin, and for nausea to drag him back down to a fetal position, but there was nothing, not even the remnants of the headache that had been plaguing his head all morning like a jackhammer.
There was nothing.
But he had also been expecting to see dark blue walls and a white, feather-filled duvet over green sheets. What he got instead was what looked like bamboo shoots and trees, dark gray clouds, and-
"Is this… snow?"
Well, there's chapter one. I hope you enjoyed it and will stick with it. Everything will be explained by the time this is over.
Ciao for now!
If you liked it, please review and let me know!
-Jellybean Fish (Auttie)