Leave out All The Rest, a d.gray-man fanfic

Another request for the meme, it's for Angel Fantasy, my wonderful Beta. I tried to make it as graphic as possible, but I'm paranoid at using "he" and "the boy" over and over again.

My power went out as I was writing the ending. I had a heart attack. Really. I would have cried and threw my computer out the window if it didn't recover, but because of my paranoia, I saved it before splitting it into two final pieces. *yay~*

I just want to say thanks to people that may be reading this from the Sword Called Lust of insanity's Angel, all your reviews were so nice, I ended up crediting Angel Fantasy for all the smutty-ness of SCL, so yeah.

Request:

14th x Allen pairing. Through said Noah is dead and only implanted memories in Allen's mind, his shadow finds his host's body very attractive, to the point where he wishes he could touch the boy. So one night, while Allen's asleep, the 14th will invade his dreams to make him his. In other words: mind fucking. **the 14th must NOT rape the boy. He wants him to enjoy it, and be willing.**[Bonus Point] if Link wakes up from Allen's sounds and stares at his moaning/shivering/panting/moving charge in disbelief (and embarrassment; possible blushing & arousing when realizing what Allen's dreaming about). Of course, Allen will be unwakable (forced sleep by the 14th), so Link will have to endure his cries for all night long. Up to filler to decide whether or not if Link will resist to the temptation of relieving himself. [Bonus Point] if Allen's partner (the 14th) doesn't show himself (shadow, or Allen's figure) until the end of the game. Said decreased Noah will want to be creative, and so will hide his identity in either mist/tentacles/anything else (up to filler to decide) to get his prey all worked up & willing. Bondage required.[Bonus Point] if Leverrier reads Link's report about the strange night, and gets embarrassed while reading all the details of it. Oh, the face he'd be making!Anyone up for the challenge? The more responses, the merrier.

Did I live up to that?

It wasn't unheard of for Link to wake up during the night. In fact, it was the only time he left Walker unsupervised. Not that he needed to know that, though. Not long after he'd began sleeping on the boy's floor, Link had discovered that Allen slept like the dead. On many occasions things had woken Link up, but whenever he looked to Walker's bed to see that he wasn't at fault for the commotion, he would just see the boy sprawled out across the white sheets, asleep.

Now, Inspector Link wasn't stupid. From the day he's started watching Walker, he'd expected something. Of course fifteen year olds didn't sleep through every night comfortably. Weeks, months, years passed by and he still had the same order: Watch over Allen Walker. And he did; reporting every movement the boy made to the higher ups. He was quite relieved the pubescent youth didn't succumb to certain urges.

Walker was a gentleman in as many ways as his profession would allow. He seemed too perfect, in all honesty. Until he snapped. Link had witnessed the things the fourteenth was capable of; eyes glazing over, he's freeze in place until he'd won his internal battle against the Noah. Watching the boy carry on as if it hadn't happened made the inspector believe Walker wasn't even aware of his own dilemmas.

But tonight- oh, tonight- was like no other.

The boy had always been a log when it came to sleeping, and he'd be the first to admit it. But since he'd found out about the fourteenth being in his head, his sleep was plagued with nightmares. And the worst part was that he couldn't wake up from them. When the strange figure finally let him go, it'd be early in the morning and he'd be soaked in his own sweat. Link usually didn't wake up with him; he'd always either be up and ready, or still asleep. Usually the former, but still.

The nightmares had gotten progressively worse over time. Stupid things at first, then of the people he knew, and finally, they turned to his becoming of a Noah. The few nights he didn't have the nightmares, he wouldn't remember his dreams. It was strange, but he'd always wake up feeling happier after those nights. But this particular night was different.

He'd fallen asleep faster than usual. He was immediately pulled into a dark reverie. Three paths; each illuminated by bright, white light. In between each of the paths were arrows. Each of them pointed in the direction contradictory to the one it was placed on the pole with. On top of each was a clock; its hands completely crippled and mangled, bending and twisted at strange angles. Glancing in each direction proved to be no help at all. Only the furthest point on each of the roads was illuminated by a faint light. It wasn't a nightmare, per say, but it definitely felt like a dream he'd wake up and have no recollection of.

Was this some kind of sign? Three paths to choose between? But what did the third represent? Frowning slightly, Allen turned and began walking, not quite caring where he was going. After all, it was just a dream, right?

With every step he took, the path became brighter. Surrounding him were images of himself and the other exorcists. They were all smiling. Smiling now, he continued walking.

Freezing in place and falling painfully onto his backside, Allen gaped. There- there had been something- fingers- against his legs! Gasping, another hand ran over his knee, following the gentle curve. Allen stared and tried to focus on the darkness surrounding him. He couldn't see anything- it was too dark- but he could still feel it.

As if sensing his dismay, the hand retreated, returning only to gently stroke his back in an attempted comforting manner. The boy didn't really know what to think; the hand didn't seem to wish to hurt him, and it was still just a dream. But why would he dream about something like this…? Why not… something else?

He let out a yelp as cold fingers gingerly ghosted over his bare arm, causing the hair to rise. He glanced around again, slowly noticing the mist that seemed to be radiating light.

"H-hello?" He cautiously called, eyes widening.

He'd never really had an interest in the boy. And he really would never have if certain event hadn't taken place. Ever since the boy cut himself straight through with his own sword, the fourteenth had been intrigued beyond words. It became an obsession, and simply being there as the boy gazed, troubled, into the mirror, only to be greeted by him wasn't enough. He knew everyone else's thoughts on him, except the boy. Perhaps that was what fueled his need- no, ache- to know. And since that stalker was always around, he barely had any time to take control over the child's body. Goddammit! He wanted it so bad it hurt!

Deciding that enough was enough, the Fourteenth had begun haunting his dreams, allowing the occasional nice one. Only to make the child forget by morning. Maybe that would drive the last bit of sanity from the boy's head, graciously letting the man take over so he could do as he pleased with his new body.

And those scars… he loved them so. Whenever the boy stepped out of the shower and there was the slightest sliver of a reflective surface, he would helplessly gaze at his scar ridden chest. Something about it was strange, and it continued to urge him to just take what he wanted…

Now, as the boy suspiciously looked around underneath him, he continued to gaze at him. Mostly at the beautiful scar that marred an equally beautiful face. Even though he'd caught the boy insulting his own appearance many times, he refused to believe it and wished, every day, that he could simply hold his face and tell him he was the exact opposite of "hideous", no matter how other people looked at him. He wasn't going to mess up this time, and he was definitely going to make the boy remember every damn second of it.

There was no answer from anywhere near him. He didn't quite understand the point of such a dream, but nonetheless, he would try to interpret it until he woke up, forgetting, no doubt.

Sighing, he let himself fall back, flat on his back. If there was something out there that was willing to even care about him, then so be it. The mist flooded his senses, clouding his mind and calming his mind. Breathing deeper than a moment before, he closed his eyes, somehow completely put to rest now that the mist was there. Again, he felt what felt like fingers brush against his leg, trailing up and skipping to his shoulders. They kneaded his tensed muscles and calmed him further. Allen opened his eyes again, but there still wasn't anything there to greet him.

"I… if you're not going to hurt me, what are you going to do?" It came out as a sigh and Allen curled into himself further. He wasn't supposed to sound like that because of a bloody dream!

There was the sound of air moving, wind, and the fingers grazed lightly over his scar. The boy's eyes immediately snapped open and he tried to pull away, unsuccessfully. There wasn't anywhere to go. What was going on?

The hands gently gripped his hips, lowering his back to the ground again. It wasn't the most comfortable of situations, but it could have been worse…

Allen could feel warmth pressing against every curve of his body, yet there was no one there to give off the heat. The mist truly was comforting. Surrendering to the natural feeling that was coursing through his veins, Allen leaned back again.

Nimble fingers unbuttoned his shirt, gently raising his back and removing the shirt. They then rested on his hips again, softly pressing against the protruding bones. Allen bit his lip, feeling his cheeks- among other places- heat up. When the hands finally decided they'd done enough, they shifted upwards, running along his sides before gracefully letting his fingers brush over the scar tissue on his torso.

"Ngh…" If it was touched hard enough, it still hurt. Yet, the hand was making the pain feel good. Then there was a something else- a nose- pressed to the same spots as the fingers had previously been. Allen arched into it, trying to press himself further into the touch.

And just as fast as it had come, it was gone. Leaving Allen whining at the loss for a good minute before he felt the waistband of his pants stretching so it could be unbuttoned. Once they were, they were left on, leaving Allen unsatisfied again. The hand continued to caress his torso, the pad of a thumb pressing against his right nipple, scars repeatedly touched and his left arm was being rubbed down. His left arm. And something definitely felt different as the touches became more confident; adding more pressure to more places.

Gasping as what felt like a tongue traced the curve of his naval, Allen bucked; his hips being pushed back down not a second later.

This was all imaginary, and yet, he wanted more. So much more. He felt so dirty for even thinking about it, but who was he to deny the feelings? He'd never indulged in anything of the sexual like before, so did that make up for the rest?

"Hn," He didn't want to think about that. There was pressure against the crotch of his pants now, and he desperately wanted it to touch him harder. His breath caught as the tongue drifted up, catching a nipple and sucking…

"Hah!" Fuck, it was already too much for his inexperienced body, and whatever was doing this to him showed no sign of stopping any time soon. And that was the other problem: he didn't know who or what was doing this to him. Was that how a wet dream worked? Cross had explained it once, but he honestly couldn't recall a word he had said. It'd been, what? Five years?

The tongue began tracing downward from his left shoulder, stopping only when it touched the cross embedded on the back of his palm. And at last, dammit, the figure's other hand reached past the waistband of his loosened pants, gripping the base of his erection.

"Augh! God, please!" he said a little too loud for his own liking, his own hands going to lace through something. But there still wasn't anything there.

Begging won't get you anywhere…

It seemed to come from nowhere; and Allen almost believed that he was beginning to hear things. He probably would have thought he was crazy if he hadn't already believed it from the second the dream started, too.

There was another squeeze, harder this time, and Allen's vision faded to white; pleasure filling him. And just like before, the hand was pulled away.

"Please stop teasing…" He breathed, panting in between each of his word. The pants were finally removed from his body, allowing the invisible figure to explore his legs. Hands ran down his thighs, eliciting groans from the boy. Pressure was added to his kneecaps, bending them into uncomfortable angles; testing him. Rather than the whimper that wanted to escape, he moaned, exposing the extra skin of his neck.

A whimper finally escaped when the boy felt a cheek pressed against the underside of his knee. That wasn't supposed to feel good! And in a way it was kind of scary, but part of him was still deep in denial. He was completely naked under a stranger, and even if it was just a dream, it felt so right. This was definitely a sign that he should have done this sooner…

It was strange to wake up to such obscene noises. Especially coming from Walker. At first, Link had thought the exorcist to be having a bad dream. After shaking the boy for a good minute, he was unsuccessful in waking him.

"Walker," He spoke firmly, "Wake up." The boy didn't respond; just kept tossing and turning in the bed, letting out an occasional moan. "Walker!" There was a keen cry as hips bucked off the bed, sheets slowly shrinking to the foot of the bed. Even through the sheets, Link could see "it".

Blushing furiously, Link pulled away, sinking back into his own sheets. Surely the dream would end within a few minutes, if not; Link would just go and take a bath…

Fingers trailed down his legs; slipping further and further until they rested against his ankle, ticklish touches applying force to the skin. And this time, Allen could swear he felt a tongue prod the bone, slowly sliding upwards and meeting his knee, leaving a cool trail along every spot it touched.

"Hn! Wh- What are you doing?" The exorcist whispered, attempting to sit up, only to have an invisible force push him back down. He groaned as the mouth continued upwards, licking at the insides of his thighs, nipping when on his skin occasionally. It slowly drifted to the base of his erection, and then began moving lower to sensually nip at his scrotum, fingers copying by kneading them gently.

The boy almost lost it, arching into the touch as it continued, becoming closer and closer to the edge as lips began applying open mouthed, sloppy kisses to the skin. "Please!" He whimpered, bucking his hips against the figure's lips. Even with the encouragement, the source of his pleasure made no point to speed up his process, seemingly enjoying what he was doing to the boy.

And finally, finally, the mouth moved , taking in the head of his cock, instantly gaining a cry. And once again, the hands were exploring his body, rubbing the skin of his thighs raw, drifting over his flat stomach and chest.

"Hah! Hn!" The exorcist cried, liquids flowing into the mouth that was so pleasantly pleasing him. He wanted to touch whatever was doing this to him; wanted to so bad that it hurt. But like before, when he tried to lace his fingers through hair, or grab someone's shoulders; claw at their back and chest, there was nothing there.

When the mouth pulled away Allen took a deep breath, lungs deprived of oxygen from his intense orgasm. His legs were hoisted up, feet flat on the ground, and he could feel a warm pair of hips between his thighs, fingers trailing from his nipples to his naval, and further. They ticking the base of his now-flaccid cock until it was hard again, teasing a moan out of the boy. When they finally dipped lower, Allen was expecting it. A finger pressed into his body and he felt content. It didn't hurt, but it wasn't exactly comfortable, either.

The figure was patient, keeping still even with one finger inside of him until Allen whimpered and moved against them; urging them to continue their objective. It slowly slid in and out of his body, nothing but patience radiating from the figure. And when it finally added a second, Allen gasped, pain making its way into his nerves. He clenched his eyes shut as they slowly pulled in and out, once, twice, then spread apart, scissoring their way in and out of his body. The boy gasped again, something inside him being brushed as he weakly pressed against the digits again.

There was a voiceless chuckle and a third finger was added to its twins, curling once they were buried deep inside of the warmth. Allen cried out, not from pain, but rather from the pleasure he currently felt. It was good, in fact, it didn't even hurt and he didn't really know if he should be relieved or on edge about the whole experience…

Link sat on the floor, horrified at his charge. After knowing the boy for two years, it had been the last thing that he thought Walker to be capable of. A wet dream, sure, uncommon thing for pubescent boys, but Walker had never been affected by anything of the like. Should he include this in his report? It wouldn't be braking rules if he didn't… it'd just be withholding something considered "personal".

Perhaps he'd talk to the boy in the morning…?

"Oh, God… please hurry…" He moaned after he was sure the figure had been teasing him just for his own pleasure. Nothing in his short lifespan had ever felt this good. Nothing. But the teasing was kind of defeating the purpose. He wanted something inside him, now. Screw the pleasant part of him, this was his damn dream! "Please! I can't take anymore!" He gasped as fingers deftly hit prostate with precise movements. Almost as if his body had been mapped out ahead of time. Another dry orgasm washed over him, his erection refusing to die down without spilling real liquid.

When he reached up, his hands were pressed back to the ground, immobilizing him. Biting his lip, Allen pushed his hips into the other, grinding against whatever was kind enough to give off the slightest bit of friction. There was a curse mumbled and the fingers pressed in deeper, catching Allen off guard.

"Augh! N-no more teasing! Please!" He begged, back arching higher than he thought possible. The fingers were sliding in and out with ease, muscles putting up no resistance now that they had been thoroughly stretched. So why was he continuing? Why?! It was driving him mad! He needed the figure inside him!

"Hn, ah-ah I- I--!" Just as he thought the world would have came crumbling down if things didn't speed up, the fingers were removed, and Allen could swear he saw a tongue run over them. It sent chills down his spine, and once he had a decent amount of control over himself, he closed his eyes and waited for more; prayed that it would come.

His legs were lifted over a pair of broad shoulders, milky thighs in perfect view of wandering eyes. There was a single thrust; a single slap of skin on skin, and Allen thought the world had actually ended. That's how god damn good it felt!

"Ah, do- do it again!" He whimpered, giving a futile attempt at pushing himself back on the erection inside him. Half his back wasn't on the ground and he couldn't move, weakly gripping at the coat that had been torn off of him. Finally, another thrust came, instantly earning a voiceless scream at the force exerted right against his prostate. He cried out impatiently at the inconsistent pace, urging the man on.

Man… right. It was obviously a male.

"Hah! Hn…" He continued to moan as the thrusts finally sped up, testicles slapping softly against his backside. His pants and mewls filled the dark surroundings, lightening the thick atmosphere. His hips were pushed down, the small of his back laid flat against the ground; knees still bent over muscular shoulders. It wasn't a painful position, but it didn't quite feel good. The man obviously picked up on it as he hoisted the boy up farther, not halting his thrusts for even a second.

Somehow, the man had picked the pace up, slamming into the boy even though he didn't have anything to grip for support. Allen's mouth opened in a muffled scream as more liquid erupted from the head of his cock, body going slack underneath the man.

It took all of two minutes for the figure to reach completion, liquids spilling inside of the younger boy. He pulled out, watching as the boy moaned at the loss.

Taking one last glance at the boy, the fourteenth frowned and released his hold on the boy's dream. It'd been enough torturing for one day, after all.

Jolting awake, Allen had discovered, hadn't been the smartest of ideas. The second he sat up, momentum carrying his too fast for his own good, his forehead had met a flushed Link's. Reeling away, he covered his forehead with his hand, mouth falling open at how much it had hurt. After a second of recovery, he noticed his sheets were wet. His eyes widened as he stared, horrified, at his lap. He was too scared to even think about pulling the sheet back, especially with Link in the room.

"Walker!" The Inspector growled, his own hand covering his head. "What the hell's your problem?!" He snapped, slightly out of character.

"L- Link… I'm sorry!" He defended, waving hid hands frantically in front himself in hopes of distracting the older male from the messy sheets. "Link?" he couldn't look the man in the eye. Instead, he opted to look at the man's feet. Which proved to be just as bad as looking him in the eye. There, below the waistband of the Inspector's pants, was a tent. A conspicuous tenting could only be one thing, even if Allen was too embarrassed to admit it.

His cheeks lit up as he gasped and looked away, ashamed of himself.

"I'm sorry Link!" He suddenly burst out. "We- we should just pretend tonight never happened, alright? I won't tell anyone about that," he gestured none too bluntly downwards, "If you don't tell anyone about this!" he let his hands drift to his waist, pulling the sheets back as he sprang out of the bed, pulling his pants down at the same time. His nightshirts always covered him, but Link looked away anyway.

Yes, he thought. This was definitely going to be left out of the reports.

This one took me a while to do. But it's done =^.^=

Review? Please?