1. hikiyosete, magunetto no you ni...

(as if we were two magnets,

draw me closer)

Allen and Kanda sat at opposite ends of a spacious room flooded with sunset light, three hours before show time. Tidy racks of elegant costumes intermittently broke the smooth surround of floor to ceiling mirrors along one wall, floor to ceiling windows along the other. Baskets of makeup and colorful spray bottles cluttered the shelves in between.

Allen was bare-chested, absent-mindedly lacing up his impressively heeled boots. Unknown to him, passing girls outside would point and giggle at him through the glass.

"Kabosoi hi ga kokoro no hashi ni tomoru," Allen sang, his voice happy and light, much too innocent for the lyrics. Allen didn't speak Japanese, but he was pretty damn skilled at inflection, Kanda thought, watching those pink lips move, soft and pliable, always turned up warmly at the corners. "Itsu no ma ni ka moehirogaru netsujou—"

Netsujou indeed. Kanda pictured himself pinching Allen's neat little chin between thumb and forefinger, tilting his head up and forcing their gazes to lock. He wouldn't give those pretty gray eyes time to close, no, before they kissed. He wanted to fall into those eyes as he fell into the taste of that mouth as they fell, a hot tangle, into…

Kanda blushed at the thought. "Shut up, bean sprout! You sound stupid." He shoved his stage clothes away with a boot and buried his face in his arms. "This whole thing is the stupid. I'm not doing it."

Abruptly the singing stopped. "The name's Allen!" Allen scowled. (Cute, Kanda thought unwillingly.) "And it's not like I want to duet with you either! Just—let's just practice and get this over with okay? C'mon. Together now. Dakiyosete hoshii—"

Dakiyosete? "Hell no!" What the fuck was Lenalee thinking, picking this song? "Singing this crap—with you is—it's disgus—"

Allen leapt up with a roar. "I'll show you what's disgusting, you—"

"DON'T MIND YUU!" cried Lavi's cheerful voice. "YOU HAVE ME TO SING WITH YOU ANYTIME, ALLEN!"

A familiar shock of fluffy auburn hair popped out from behind the curtains. "Some people just don't have a natural showman talent, I understand. Kanda, I've got you covered." A wink.

"Lavi!" Allen waved, his smile widening. The warmth in his voice made Kanda's stomach clench. "Great! I've been trying to get Kanda to join in for the past hour but he's really—" Pointed glance. "—not cooperating."

"It's okay," Lavi whispered. Was that a rather too-intimate purr in his voice? Was that a blush on Allen's cheek? "I know how much this charity show means to Lenalee. We won't let her down! Let's go find somewhere private to…practice."

"Alright! I know I can always count on you, Lavi."

"Haha! It's nothing!" Nonchalantly, he grabbed Allen's hand and pulled him into a narrow door at one end of the room. "This will do." The door slammed.

"A closet?" came Allen's slightly muffled voice. Did Allen sound a little more breathless than usual? Kanda simultaneously wished he could and couldn't tell. "It's—it's rather cramped in here, isn't it?"

"There's just enough spaces for us to harmonize," came Lavi's wry reply.

"Haha, true!" Allen laughed, completely missing the subtext. "Well then! From the top."

And then it was Allen's sweet, boyish voice twining around Lavi's careless tenor, building a melody overfull with laughter and self-satisfaction. The sun was steadily sinking, the sky darkening, painting the dressing room in ash grays and fiery crimson. Kanda dug his fingernails into his palms.

"Kisu o shite nurikaete hoshii …" sang Lavi, low and dirty, and laughed. Kanda, all rage, snatched up the gaudy butterfly headphones he was supposed to wear during the performance and clamped them over his ears, gritting his teeth. Still he could hear the next words, Allen's response, sensual in its innocence: "Miwaku no toki ni yoishire oborete itai no…"

So pretty. So clueless. Kanda could have screamed with jealousy, but he didn't. The voices in the closet had fallen suspiciously silent, and he likewise didn't dare make a sound.

"Nn, what is it, Lavi?" Spoken so softly, Kanda could barely hear. He found himself subconsciously crawling on hands and knees closer toward the closet door.

"You really don't know what you're singing?" Lavi was teasing. "That's so cute."

"Haha, well, no…. Hopefully that's not a big problem! I've just been so busy and…"

"Want me to tell you?"

"Sure!"

Whispers. The kind that demanded lips close enough to brush earlobes. Kanda was sure he could hear the sound of a blush rising to porcelain skin.

"Ohh!" An tense silence. "Haha! R-r-r-really!"

"Yup! On my honor as a Bookman, I do not lie." A laugh, the brush of fingers on cotton. Somehow Kanda found himself with his ear pressed hard against the keyhole. When did he even get up? He wasn't sure. All he knew was, he couldn't breathe for listening. "So…Allen. Now that you know, we'll sing with more…passion, eh?"

"P-p-p-passion?" The leisurely whine of a zipper, unzipping.

"Please make me believe that this is not a sin," Lavi sang in English now, slowly. "I want you to kiss me…" A long pause. "And repaint my body."

"L-L-L-Lavi," Allen stammered. "P-please…."

Later, Kanda would not remember the decision to act.

In one smooth motion, Kanda unsheathed Mugen and yanked the door open. The roar that escaped his lips could be heard for half a mile it seemed, at least it rattled the glass. Lavi's hands were pressed flat against Allen's chest; their eyes were half-lidded despite the dark, their lips half an inch apart. Crack! came the sound of vengeance, the sound of metal against flesh. Crack! Swish! Crack! Later, Lavi would recount the look in Kanda's eyes and fail to find the words to describe it.

(This was very troubling for a Bookman, and hurt a lot more than the welt across the back of his hand and the bruise across his face. It was a shame Kanda sliced clean through his favorite headband but given he'd only barely escaped a cracked skull, he didn't feel like complaining really.)

(God, that Kanda, he'd only say. Rather high-strung.)

"FIGHT ME! YOU'LL HAVE TO FIGHT ME!" Kanda found himself roaring. "COWARD! DOG!"

"For what?" Lavi returned boldly. "It's not like you'll win—" And he wasn't talking entirely about winning a fistfight.

"KANDA!" Allen's anti-Akuma weapon flared to life, his left arm a huge shield between Lavi's suddenly engorged hammer and Kanda's glistening blade. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

Sudden silence. Kanda could have cried with frustration.

How could he explain to anyone if he couldn't even explain it to himself? The feelings—repulsive, strange, and so embarrassingly tender—that rose in him when he watched Allen in those quiet moments of contentment, of rest…. The…other things that rose in the night when he dreamed of the compact perfection of his body, when he imagined that body underneath him, warm and vulnerable and open for touching…. The inexplicable protectiveness, the jealousy…. And the profound discomfort from not being around him, and from being around him just as Kanda, someone who would never be charming enough, warm enough, normal enough, to be attractive like Allen was. Attractive to Allen. Always a freak. A freak who happened to be in l-l-l—

He couldn't even say it.

Already he could hear Lavi reassuring Allen with a laugh and shrug in his voice, saying something easy that Allen would understand and smile at. Something that would tip the scales against Kanda once again.

Words. He could never get them to come out right the way other people could. Allen would never understand how underneath the scowls and the insults and the awkwardness, Kanda just wanted to say, "Notice me. Notice me. If only for a little while, notice and feel something about me." Because I am loyal, and brave, and honest, and I will fight for you. Please l-l-l-

Kanda managed a strangled grunt and stormed away.

He didn't expect the tap of feet jogging to keep up with his longer stride. "I know why you're angry," Allen said carefully.

Kanda didn't respond. Stupid beansprout was surprisingly speedy in heels. He really should rezip his fly though. It was distracting.

"You don't want Lavi to sing with me. You wanted to sing with me."

"Fuck you," Kanda replied.

"Well, I understand." A smile, one that softened his eyes. "There's still two hours. Let's practice together."

The initial touch—timid, gentle. Kanda felt his hand warming in Allen's grasp until his fingers dared to bend, to try to hold on.

"Your fly's undone," Kanda said gruffly, after a while. "Stupid beansprout can't even dress yourself."

"Ahahahaha!" Allen blushed pink to his ears. "You distracted me with your cute butterfly earphones."

It was Kanda's turn to blush.

Allen squeezed his hand, and after a moment, Kanda squeezed hesitantly back.

AN: * Inspired by one of my favorite vocaloid songs.

* "Allen's anti-Akuma weapon flared to life, his left arm a huge shield between Lavi's suddenly engorged hammer and Kanda's glistening blade."
Okay, byeee.