Warning: explicit sexual content between males
Fingertips and Wine Stained Lips
Theme: Fingertips
The only thing he could feel was the slender neck of the wine bottle loosely hanging from his hand. The olive tinted glass warm where he'd been holding it for far too long – wine is dry enough without being at room temperature. The air is too warm for autumn without the heater on… It must have been autumn, for beyond the windowpanes the trees were rotting away from a sickly yellow to a dusty, moth colored brown. It really was too warm. Stuffy. Stifling. Air so stale. He could have just opened the window. The freshly exhaled oxygen of the waning season would whoosh in and breathe new life into this place. He idly thought that he ought to, but the thought came and went without inciting a response.
'I ought to but that would require getting up.'
Most of his days lately were spent in this room, curled on the floor with his back to the wall. He'd changed positions frequently despite the effort it took. There was only so long one could sit still before the muscles start to coil in want of release. His favored place, however, was that spot by the foot of the bed against the wall facing that lone window. There was best. For there he could see through the fissure between the door frame to the narrow entrance hall. From there he was just able to make out the knob of the front door – could see if someone made to open it.
As night sets in the window becomes a mirror. There's a translucent version of himself staring back. He's not all there. Only the right half of his face is clear, the left is obscured by the neighbors' motion sensing driveway light. He missed the sound of the car pulling in but he heard the door slam shut and the single screech of the remote controlled lock. It was a thirty second light but it took thirty-three – dims, doesn't just flick off. This time it takes sixty-six.
'Must be the man, he always checks for mail.'
The diameter of the blur fringed circle of light on the window shrinks, more of his face becoming visible. It's dark again. His head is supported by the wall, shoulders slouched left a fraction more than right. An oversized shirt, only half buttoned yawns around his neck. His collar bones have become more defined.
'I've neglected more than time it seems. How long has it really been?'
He couldn't remember the last time he'd consciously taken care of himself. His once glossy snow white hair fell dull and limp to his shoulders, curtaining his dimmed grey eyes from the world. Pressing his nose to the collar, he notes that there is no Downy scent. It had been at least four days since the last time he'd changed. The mountain rain smell of Kanda's detergent only lasts about that long. It's not as pungent as Kanda's scent – the musty sandalwood that lingers in the depths of his closet. Allen rarely opened the door now. He didn't want to contaminate the only perceivable trace of him left in their shared home. He makes do with the clothes that had been left folded on the washing machine. They dwarf him, more so now than last year. Still, the loose fabric hugs tighter than his own tailored shirts.
Bringing the wine bottle to his lips, he titled his head back, the warm liquid sloshing into the neck – the hard olive lip kissing his and tainting them mauve. He could feel it. It trailed down his throat, stomach gurgling as it teases the emptiness there. The hollowness feels heavy, as does the half-empty bottle that's returned with a thunk to the faux mahogany floor. Food had been scarce here since the last bottle of detergent ran out. What he'd bought then had been out of necessity. Now though, even the smallest rations satisfy him and function only to curb the gnawing ulcerous ache.
'Kanda would probably scold me…'
Even though thinking so, Allen found that eating alone was less tolerable than the thought of enduring Kanda's wrath. Eating seemed so much like a luxury he didn't deserve. The wine, though, he would not renounce. The wine reminded him of that last night. That night that Kanda had planned a surprise dinner by candlelight. The food had been set out, the wine already poured by the time Allen returned that evening. Kanda was there, his cobalt eyes betraying his excitement despite the nonchalant composure he presented. They toasted that night to long life, health and happiness together. It was the cheesy kind of thing that Kanda had sworn he'd never do, and yet meticulous plans had been drawn out down to what he'd wanted to say. Kanda had always been more of an action oriented person so when it came to the important stuff – the things that his prideful nature made difficult to say or do – he would plan it out as though he were breaking into some sort of high security prison. He'd done the same thing when he'd invited Allen out for the first time. That day when he'd asked Allen to move in with him too, had been planned.
'BaKanda.'
Allen thought fondly on the memories as he swished the burgundy liquid. It looked dark though the color couldn't be seen through the tinted glass – like blood beneath skin and communion on Sunday. Those memories seemed so distant now. He willed himself to remember, but even his smile was fading as time swept him up in a sea of numbness.
Did he bleed? Is he still bleeding somewhere, unable to stop the flow?
Did blue turn red as it seeped from sun-blistered skin? Somewhere amidst the army of littered bottles in front of the fireplace they'd given up on him. The flames had long since died and only ashes remained in the cold hollow. None of them his…
He'd been declared MIA and his belongs had been sent back to his old man. The sparsely filled office box was buried the same day beneath a grave bearing his name. Tiedoll was a nice man, but as a retiree and having had lost Daisya the year before, his frail heart could reserve no vain hope for Kanda's well-being. Allen had begged him to wait. Missing and presumed dead didn't mean dead. There was always a chance until it's been confirmed. These sentiments had been met only with solemn pity. Allen hadn't seen Tiedoll since. Pity was for a person who had lost everything. And he hadn't. Not yet.
The promise still encircling his ring finger whispers of the day he'll return from this deployment. It would have been over last Christmas, but it ended when the cicadas were still singing their summer song. It had ended with a box. A stupid box with a couple photographs from their college days, a lotus shaped charm that Lenalee had made for him when he'd been assigned to a different team, and some clothing buried on the other side of the continent. It had ended, and twice now Allen had heard the shrilling chirrups of the cicadas without Kanda in this place.
'We'll hear them again together, won't we Kanda? You never made a promise that you couldn't keep.'
Allen's head drooped, eyelids at half-mast. The bottle slipping away from his fingers as he sweeps his hand across the floor seeking purchase upon something solid. Dozens of crimson-stained corks scattered from splayed fingers. Drinking deeper still of this rumination, the window his reflection stares from grows dull. He prays that hazy illusion is not the one to greet him when he wakes.
xXx
Calloused fingertips feather across Allen's sleeping face. They trace from jaw line to chin, curling there and tilting his face. Mercury eyes open, but his vision is still sleep blurred. The warm scent of sandalwood wafts into his nose. Kanda's lips are quirked up at the corners, eyebrows dipped together.
"You're late." Allen's voice is raspy – hasn't been used for quite some time.
"I told you I would be." Kanda sits back on the edge of the bed, the mattress bending beneath his weight. "Why are you on the floor?"
The warbling of the Vireo's outside, tell of sun splashed trees and spring. The room though, is still in shadow. The curtains have been drawn. Kanda notices Allen's gaze.
"I didn't want to wake you, but it's already past noon. Were you planning to sleep the day away?"
"Planning has never been my strong suit. I have patience down in spades though."
"Lucky me."
Kanda is standing again, bent at the waist. His palm cradles the back of Allen's neck. Lips join. His are chapped and rough, Allen's a dry sweet rouge. His eyes bear into Allen's with an intensity that Allen had almost forgotten. In those warm cobalt irises Allen's reflection is there – whole. His lips are drawn up on the right. A lopsided smile that he mirrors.
Kanda drew Allen away from the wall as he fell to his knees before him. Still cradling the back of his neck, Kanda tilts Allen's body backwards. Their lips join again, Allen's body trembling as his back meets the floor, Kanda hovering over him a sultry smirk on his lips. They weren't feverish and desperate as he'd expected after such a long time, but slow, sensuous and all consuming. Allen felt the kisses melting away. Mind growing hazy as though he were suffocating – he couldn't think. Lips parted, the slight space being filled with hot breaths and faint pants.
Allen's eyes slid open, locking with Kanda's, the man's expression awash with masculine charm. Allen slowly raised his trembling right hand, tracing the smirking curve of Kanda's lips in a tender caress with the pad of his middle finger. Cobalt eyes filled with intent. Kanda bent closer, lips brushing against Allen's ear. Whispers of something Allen couldn't hear, mind too fogged by pleasure and longing to decipher the warm breath that swept across his cheek. Allen arched his head back, Kanda's soft hair tickling his exposed neck. There was a rustling of cloth as Kanda undid the buttons on Allen's shirt. Slipping past the layer of cloth calloused fingertips stroked over hips, fingers curling to rest at Allen's waist, eliciting a tiny shiver from the lithe form beneath him.
"Yuu~" Allen whimpered, eyes blurred by tears.
Kanda's gaze softened, mirroring the adoration of his sometimes infuriating lover.
"I'm sorry it took me so long."
The dams broke and Allen lunged up at Kanda, arms wrapping desperately around his neck and burying his face into his chest, breathing in deep of his scent – the musky sweat and soil smell forever saturated into the fabric of his uniform. Kanda sighed lifting Allen with him as he stood, a frown turning down his lips as he moved him up onto the bed.
"You've lost weight."
Allen made no comment in response, just continued clinging to Kanda as though he would disappear should he let go. Kanda's expression contorted into one of guilt.
"I'm sorry."
Allen shook his head, tearful yet smiling face looking up at Kanda with adoration.
"It's alright now, because you're here… because you're home."
"Baka Moyashi," Kanda grunted, skimming his fingers along the waist of Allen's slacks.
"BaKanda," Allen retorted, a mirthful grin playing about his lips.
"Tch," Kanda scoffed at the name leaning into nip at Allen's neck. Red blushing marks of possession trailing into kisses down Allen's torso as Kanda deftly undid Allen's belt, and button, slipping the slacks down over his hips.
"It's been awhile but I'm not letting you get away with that one," Kanda mumbled against the hem of Allen's boxers. Allen shivered at the implied promise. Kicking his pants the rest of the way off.
"I should hope not. You wouldn't be the Kanda I know if you did."
A smirk crested on Kanda's lips, eyes narrowing with a come-hither glow. Kanda's palm found Allen's knee, stroking the skin of his leg up past the edge of his boxers to his inner thigh.
"Ngh, that's no fair," Allen mumbled in pleasure, skin tingling at the sensation. "You're still fully clothed."
"Then do something about it," Kanda shrugged indifferently, though Allen could tell by the smoldering look in his eyes that it was an act.
"I intend to," Allen hummed as he palmed the bulge in Kanda's pants, noting with satisfaction the way Kanda's eyes closed and a growl of long desired pleasure rumbled in his chest. "But first, how was work?"
Kanda's expression fell as the sweet pressure was removed, staring disbelievingly at the mischievous gleam in Allen's eyes. Fanning flames and goading him into moving first, all traces of the sadness and uncertainty from before gone.
"Work was fine," Kanda said stiffly playing along with Allen's challenge as he lifted Allen's hips and dragged his boxers off. "It was loud and annoying and took a hell of a lot longer to end that planned, because some moronic redhead decided he was going to get himself stuck behind enemy lines for some book or file or something."
"Oh? So Lavi was with you then?" Allen asked, voice breaking as Kanda's right hand gripped his length, slowly beginning to slide his grip up and down, while his left hand moved lower, running his index finger slowly around the rim of his entrance.
"Mmhmm, can you believe the shit I have to deal with out there? Lube?"
"In the drawer. I'll have a stern talking to him later, for keeping you away for so lo..ngh!" Allen jerked when Kanda gave a quick squeeze before releasing him to retrieving the required bottle.
"Do whatever you want, just don't bring him back here," Kanda said as he poured some of the clear liquid into his palm, warming it in his hands as he coated his fingers.
"You always say that, even though he's your best-" Allen bit his lip when a finger slid into him.
"My best what?" Kanda smirked.
"Friend, you jerk," Allen stuck his tongue out before lifting his hands and beginning to undo the buttons on Kanda's khaki shirt as it became clear that Kanda was not going to remove anything on his own… except maybe his pants as that would be necessary sooner or later.
"Friend or not, I was stuck with him night and day these past months and I'm sick to death of him," Kanda huffed adding a second finger. Allen tensed, wincing a bit at the intrusion. "Sorry, too fast?"
"No, it's just been awhile," Allen mumbled in embarrassment as he slid Kanda's shirt back off his shoulders. Kanda pulling his fingers out for a moment to let Allen remove it completely. Allen whimpered a bit at the loss but made quick work of the vest Kanda wore under his shirt as well, since given the chance. "But let me guess, he talked your ear off the whole time, right?"
"Damn straight," Kanda said, voice lilting in disdain as he pushed Allen back down, sliding his fingers back in him and beginning to scissor the muscle gently. "How the fuck does one even talk for months on end without running out of things to say?"
"Haha, aahhh!" Allen's laughter slid into a yelp as Kanda's fingers curled against his prostate, pleasure flushing through him, making his hands falter on Kanda's' belt.
"W-well Lavi does… mngh… he does know a lot of stuff," Allen said awkwardly trying to keep focus on his task while Kanda's fingers moved in him. Now three. "And...and he does… it is… shit! Kanda what the heck? It's been awhile, if you keep doing that I'll cum before you even enter me!"
"Hahaha," Kanda pulled his fingers out, resting a hand on the bed beside Allen's head as he laughed. Allen's expression was priceless, red flushed, panting and pouting and thoroughly frustrated.
"BaKanda! Don't laugh!" Allen huffed, a dangerous glower in his eyes when Kanda only laughed harder.
"Fine, you want to play? Let's play." Allen swung a leg up, knocking Kanda off balance onto his side, as he rolled over to straddle him. Kanda's pants were rough against his skin, the khaki brown colored canvas like material scratching against his inner thighs as he shimmied forward, grinding against Kanda's yet clothed erection.
"You- mph."
Allen caught Kanda's lips in a kiss, fingers idly drawing circles over Kanda's torso while drinking in the grunts and groans he elicited. Allen licked sensuously the taught line of muscle between Kanda's collar bone and ear.
"I don't think you really understand how long I've been waiting for you, Kanda," Allen whispered against his ear, scraping his teeth gently over the lobe. Kanda said nothing, though his brows knitted together in serious consideration.
"I don't think you really understand how much I've wanted you." Kanda swallowed the lump in his throat as Allen lifted himself up just enough to slide Kanda's pants and briefs down, leaving them stretched at his mid-thighs.
"So tell me, Kanda," Allen said breathily as he ghosted his lips over the tip of Kanda's weeping erection. "How much do you think I want you right now?"
"Fuck!" Kanda groaned as Allen's mouth engulfed him, tongue running along the underside of his cock. "Ngh… I understand damn well, because I've been wanting you too, Baka Moyashi."
Allen smiled in satisfaction at his answer. "Then quit with the foreplay and just fuck me, will you?"
Kanda growled sitting up and dragging Allen forward hips poised over Kanda's erection. "You're stretched enough, yes?"
"Mmm hmm," Allen nodded as he reached below to line Kanda's dick up with his entrance. Kanda nodded gruffly as he slowly guided Allen's hips down. Allen tensed as his body stretched to accommodate Kanda's girth.
"Ngh!" Allen grunted as his he was fully seated on Kanda's hips, unintentionally ridged, muscles clenching around Kanda's dick and breaths coming in short stuttered gasps.
"You okay?"
"S-shut up, don't talk… ngh right now, I'm… I'm anngh… trying to concentrate," Allen made out, fingers digging into Kanda's shoulders.
Kanda cocked a brow in amusement at the statement. One hand wrapped around the back of Allen's head dragging him forward into a kiss, the other settling against his lower back, rubbing soothing circles just above his tailbone. Allen hummed in pleasure at the sensation, body relaxing.
"Move whenever you're ready," Kanda said continuing to rub circles on the small of Allen's back.
"'m ready," Allen said, wiggling his hips a bit as if proving he was okay to move now. Kanda smirked hugging Allen as he began thrusting up into him.
There was no rhythm, no discernable pattern as they moved against each other. Allen writhing and moaning as Kanda once again flipped him onto his back. Sloppy kisses, hungry whimpers and impassioned gasps…
"Mngh Kan- Kanda, I'm-"
"I know, me too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Allen leaned his forehead against Kanda's, breathing in short sharp intakes. Kanda met Allen's wanton gaze, mercury irises dilated in the dimmed overcast afternoon light. A couple final thrusts. Kanda grunted as he bit down on the juncture of Allen's neck and shoulder as he came. Allen following with a shuddering gasp, cum spattering against his abdomen.
Completely spent, Kanda rolled off Allen, drawing him against him.
"We should clean up first, Kanda."
"Tch," Kanda grabbed the end of the sheet, wiping the cum from Allen's stomach, then drew him back into a hug. "We'll do the rest later."
Allen snickered as he reveled in the embrace. "As great as spooning with you right now would be. I have an ass full of cum leaking out onto the sheets."
"Want me to stick it back in to keep it from leaking?"
"What the fuck Kanda!" Allen blushed scarlet at the lazy grin playing across Kanda's lips.
"Just shut up and sleep."
"I don't want to sleep, I only woke up at noon and I haven't seen you in ages," Allen whined.
"But you're tired, aren't you?" Kanda mumbled against Allen's nape. Allen pouted, though his eyelids began to droop at the calm silence. He'd hated the silence when Kanda was gone. But this silence, with Kanda's breathing at his side… this silence was a good silence. A safe silence. It was to this silence that sleep claimed him.
xXx
An engine revs to a steady hum. Allen opens his eyes. His back still against the wall. The bed empty. The sky beyond the glass his reflection no longer gazes from is blushed pink with orange bellied clouds. The sun hasn't fully risen. The circle of light on the window shrinks – thirty-three. It's the woman who has left. The man takes ninety-nine in the morning rolling the recycle bins back from the roadside.
A plaintive mewl draws his attention as Tim nuzzles his hand. Allen draws the orange tabby into his arms as silent tears begin to lick trails down his cheeks.
He missed the sound of the car pulling in – the guttural rumble of the engine and the ambient sound of some eighties rock ballad coming to an end. Kanda always timed it perfectly – never listened to the radio – never liked cutting a song off. Allen couldn't remember the last time he'd listened to one of those mix-tapes. He's sure he did at the beginning, but when that was fails to register. Three hundred sixty-five sunrises and sunsets or seven hundred and fifty – it hardly mattered which.
Head bowed, Allen hugged Tim against him. A splash in the pond of his mind dissipating in ripples his conjured image of Kanda.
"Don't make me wait too long."
End
A/N: Anyone up for some Monday afternoon angst? I'm sorry Allen, but I totally am! I was so motivated after getting so many lovely reviews from people welcoming me back that I finished this one up in record time. So thank you! Now if you're following my tumblr, you already know that this piece was meant to be my third entry for the 2011 Yullen week. Yeah, I'm only three and a half years late... I'm not sure if I'll do the fourth theme next or if I'll do something else. I'm slowly working through all the prompts and docs I have stored on my hard drive. I'll probably add another chapter to my HQ fic "Bruises and Bloodstains" first before posting another Yullen fic, but who knows, I'm in a super high spirited mood right now so anything could happen ^^
Thanks as always for your time, all comments are very much welcomed and appreciated :)