Disclaimer: I do not own the series or the characters. They belong to Katsura Hoshino.
It's a familiar touch. A familiar scent. Fuzzy memories of a place he called 'home'.
Did that place even ever exist?
Pain surged through Allen, as he traversed the dark alleyway. The sky was dark and the air was damp, in preparation for the onslaught of rain that threatened to fall. He just wanted to be alone. Out of the crowd and away from innocent bystanders in this bought of pain.
It was him again, the fourteenth, beckoning him to surrender. Knocking on the door of his subconscious. He couldn't tell what hurt worse, these probing memories of him or his innocence reacting to Apochrypos.
But for all the force and strength of this agony, it only took two dainty arms to put it to rest. For the moment they wrapped around him, from behind, he knew who they belonged to.
"Lenalee…"
"Please don't run…" she says in a hurried whisper. She's so close behind him and it's hard to think of anything besides this warmth. "I promise I'm alone, I promise I won't try to fight you."
He smiles, despite himself. Something there in her words ache him. "That's not what you said the last time."
We'll have to fight each other!
Yeah, I know.
It echoes in his mind, along with the sinking feeling he gets when he considers stealing the situation; knocking Lenalee out before any problems can arrive.
He doesn't want to, but it may come to it.
His gloved hands pry her fingers off of his body so he can turn and face her, though he keeps them in his grasp, if only to ensure his safety– at this proximity he'll be able to predict an attack. Easy peasy.
But also to keep her there.
Because he wants to touch her, but he can't hold her.
God she smells the same. So good. So familiar.
The atmosphere is very much grey, but it does little to wash out the youth and color of his friend. His ex-comrade, but still friend. She's pale, and the color beneath her eyes is a stark rose that only signifies how much she's probably been crying. That along with those glossy emotional eyes of hers, watching him restlessly.
How sad to see her like this, after they parted ways on such awful terms. Why was she here? Why when he made it clear he didn't want to be found?
Her hair was longer, he noted. As if to distract from his sympathy. And maybe because he's positively drinking in the sight of her.
"They don't know I'm here, Allen. Will you trust me?" Lenalee asks. Her eyes are pleading, and she's adorned in bandages.
"What happened here?" He digressed, raising a gloved palm to her face.
"I was on a mission.." She's deliberately turned her face to cease further inspection of the wound. "But I didn't return home."
"Lenalee…"
"I'm still going back, Allen, but… I needed to take advantage of the situation. If only to see you."
"Situation?"
There's a pause, and he thinks she may try to avoid the question. So he tightens his grip on her hand to look sternly at her.
"Lenalee?"
"They…" her eyes dart away. "May think I'm dead."
The sky is even darker than before. In place of the previous grey, dark storm clouds have built and a light shower overtakes the town. It'll get heavier and heavier, as storms usually do. Allen turns his gaze from the window to his former comrade, who's currently warming herself in a blanket. Her damp uniform jacket lies on a chair, before the fireplace to dry off. They just barely made it inside his hotel room to escape the rain.
The glow from the fire hugs the soft curve of her face, and those expressive eyes do well catch the light. It's the last gaze he steals before finishing setting aside his his soggy trench coat.
"You'll catch cold." She says, eyeing the damp shirt clinging to his skin. He took the rain more, from letting her use his trench coat as protection out there.
"I'll just sit in front of the fire." He assures, his gaze directed anywhere but her and that woeful face.
Tears are sprinkling in the corners of Lenalee's eyes when she watches him take a seat in front of the heat. Arm propped on his elbow, eyes on the flames.
"Won't you look at me…?"
"I'll be honest. I'm kind of mad at you right now, Lenalee."
She sucks in air, lowering her head.
"Don't you see the risk you're taking? Moreover, everyone at the Order is probably in pain because of what you have done."
"I said I'll return to them as soon as I was finished." She is quick on the defense.
"Finished with what?" He looks at her, silver eyes hard and probing. "Trying to convince me to come back?"
She returns the gaze, finding some nerve. "I said I wouldn't do that."
"Then what is it? What is worth making your friends grieve?"
The tears have now come. They gloss over her violet eyes before spilling freely down her bruised cheeks. "Shouldn't I ask you the same thing…?"
The cracking flames are the only sounds occupying the room, and they brave more stern glances before finding it too unbearable to look upon each other in such a way. Allen is almost guilty; but he just doesn't want to put her through this. He can't take it. If he'd only knocked her out when he had the chance. If he'd only ran.
"I don't want it to be like this, Allen. You can be mad at me, but I won't be mad at you. I just wanted to see you so badly."
From the corner of his eye he can see her wiping at those tears, and his own fingers twitch with the urge to do it for her. Like he always did.
"I just don't want to be the reason you are hurting everyone… They care about you so much."
"Well they care about you too."
"Even though I'm a traitor?" He deadpans, knowing how petty it sounded the moment it came out.
Lenalee won't be having it, as she stands abruptly and raises her voice. "You didn't betray us."
"But that's what they're saying, aren't they?"
"You didn't exactly stick around to explain yourself–"
"Nothing I say would change the fact that I have Noah memories within me, Lenalee." With a sigh he gets to his feet. Moving to where she stands so he may meet her at eye level. "It was only a matter of time before it all went wrong."
He wonders, as her wet and desperate eyes search him, if she can see how much he's refrained from telling her. About Apochrypos. About Tyki and Road. He wonders if she ever saw through all his lies and masks.
If she did would she be as desperate as she is now? To see him when she is putting her loved ones through pain?
No. If Lenalee ever had the right idea, maybe she… well, maybe she wouldn't forgive him.
Maybe.
"I'm so sorry it happened like this, Allen. They should trust you…"
"I guess I can't completely blame them." He offers, smiling and scratching his jaw. "I mean… it's Noah. And I did make a mess of things."
"But compared to all the things you have done for us?" He's startled by her cold hands on his face. She's chilly from the rain, no doubt.
"Hey…" he takes those hands and lowers them, warming them in his gloves. "Get by the fire, please. You're freezing."
"Sorry." Though she regards the fireplace, she doesn't move. "Allen, I…"
She is interrupted by a sound that makes Allen's blood run cold. A wireless golem- the kind that so often accompanies an exorcist- just began to flutter free of one of her pockets.
Lenalee is quick to take action, activating her boots and bringing the heel down on that thing- rendering it, and the chair, to bits and pieces with a powerful crash.
As she surveys the damage, heart hammering in her chest, she is startled by a gust of wind blowing out the fire in the fireplace.
She turns quickly, only to find the door wide open, swaying in the wind. Allen is gone and only the sounds of pouring rain accompany her.
Allen is dashing through the alley, no coat to protect him from the merciless storm and his achy heart. He feels stupid for not taking into consideration that it was an exorcist he was desperately clinging to. Even if just to grasp to those last few memories of home… to cling to her her and her sweet smells…
He also feels stupid for thinking he could possibly outrun the accommodator of the Dark Boots.
"Allen!" She calls, at the end of the alley, making him stumble to a stop in utter defeat. He inexplicably wants to get kicked by her, if only to endure the punishment he feels he deserves.
"Go home, Lenalee." He calls, through the ache in his throat and the pummeling of rain.
"Allen, it's not what you think!"
"I can't do this with you!" He calls to her, fists clenching at his sides. "Please, you have to let me go…!"
"I will!"
"Then why did you bring a golem!? They'll find you!"
"Allen, I thought it was broken in the wreckage. I only kept it in my pouch to try and revive it after I was ready to go home!"
He clutches at his face, shaking from the shower beating on his back and from his wavering emotions. "I can't take it, Lenalee, don't make me say goodbye to you again. I can't do it."
He can hear the Dark Boots walking towards him.
"And I can't let you leave without a proper goodbye."
"So can't we get it over with!?" He turns to glare at her over his shoulder, wincing through the shower to watch her soaked form approach. Raindrops bouncing from her lashes and trickling down the curves of her cheeks. If she started to cry, how could he tell? "Why do this to yourself? You came knowing I won't go back with you. You know nothing will change. Why see me when it hurts you so much?"
Lenalee moves in closer, stopping and biting at her bottom lip and reaching for his arm, but he's quick to pull away. The look of hurt she wears is evident, and he feels a throbbing knot in his throat accompanied by the pang of guilt.
I want to hold you until you can look at me like that no longer.
"Why does it matter?" Without him to hold onto, she's hugging herself and lowering her head. "Is it so strange for me to want to see you, even if it hurts?"
"…" and he's faced with the truth that even he can't deny. A powerful urge to be with her now. Even if he knows he needs to run, possibly hurt her to get her off his trail, and just disappear to face his problems alone. But seeing her is the only window to the way things were. The feeling of home. And another feeling he can't quite place. Even if it hurts he longs for it.
Longs for her.
"No. I guess not." And that's probably the most honest he's been with her in this whole encounter.
He watches her, hunched from the force of rain beating down from above. Soggy ribbons. Soggy skirt. She looks so pathetic and it hurts because he knows she's come to him with a broken heart. And he's only making it worse by being here.
But he doesn't want to keep pushing her away, and his restraint gives way when he wraps his arms around her. The pained gasp she gives only cementing his decision. He couldn't take the loneliness a moment longer.
He needed her, and he could tell she needed him too.
She's clawing his back, winding the drenched fabric of his shirt through her fingers with almost enough force to tear it apart. Her embrace is nothing like the gentle and sweet displays of affection she used to give him, when they fought along side each other. This is desperation and pain.
He knows she's hurting for him, her friend, but why does she have it so bad she'd break everyone's hearts just to see him?
Allen presses his palm to the back of her head, matching her force he pushes the exorcist close and succumbs to his own need for comfort.
She was the only person who ever touched him like this and made him feel like he was deserving, though he knew he was far from it.
"Talk to me, Lenalee." He says against her damp raven hair.
She lifts her chin so that they may press cheek to cheek, her voice in his ear. "What's to say?"
He smiles, and she can feel it against her skin. "It's not like you to keep things from me. The Lenalee I know is always so honest about her feelings."
She pulls away at arm's length so she can look upon him with frightened eyes. Allen watches her lips quiver, before she finds the nerve to speak. "Not all of them."
He doesn't even have the time to question the vagueness of this, because she's clutching him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him in close. At first it's the proximity that gets him, their noses against each other and lips brushing. Then it's her words.
"I love you, Allen."
A kiss. A kiss so forward yet so timid. Allen finds that she is kissing him as though she has been deprived of something he can't place. So cherishing… nothing like the way she cherishes her friends, something more.
Something he thought he'd never receive– not in his whole life.
But it's not as long as he'd hoped, because she pulls away and buries her face in his shoulder. Hiding those lips from him that he's suddenly craving. He's almost mute.
How could she.
How could she do any of this.
"Why… didn't you ever tell me…?" Is all the boy can mutter, almost too quiet to be heard through the beating rain. And his beating heart.
"Would it have changed anything?" Is she crying now, he wonders?
She had a point. He knows, as he stares down at the girl hiding in his shoulder, that though he could be eternally grateful for the one person to truly love him in such a way; it still wasn't enough to keep him at the Order and put all their friends at risk.
Is she crying?
Because he is.
Allen grits his teeth and clutches his face in a pained fury. "If anything could have changed, it could have been the time we had together." He sobs. "God damnit, Lenalee."
"And so…?" Her smile is melancholy, and she's reaching up to touch his cheek. "Wouldn't it have hurt?"
He clutches her arms, tugging them away from his face and to his chest with enough force to bruise. Keeping her close so now he can brush his lips against hers. "You don't think it hurts now?"
"I'm sorry…"
Allen closes the space, kissing her again. Only this time she's consistent. Deepening it and succumbing to the desperation in her heart. And she's dragged Allen down with her.
The hotel room is dark when they find their way back. Lenalee clumsily backing up through the threshold, hands clutching at Allen's face while he hastily fumbles with the door handle, slamming it shut behind him.
Their mouths hardly separate. Nothing but a dull ache finds him when they have to part to air, for he is fully dependent on her and her touch to mask the pain in his heart he's been adamant on pushing away.
She won't let him go, she's clinging to him with everything she has. Only remembering now to deactivate her boots and stumble through the darkness with her long lost friend.
"Allen…" she whispers against his lips, and he separates if only to look down at her. His adaption to darkness surpasses many, due to his night training. But the lightning outside is generous to illuminate her and her flustered appearance in short flashes. Tears in her expressive eyes, and tears streaming down his own cheeks.
Why did he have to wait this long to do this?
Taking the sides of her face between his soggy gloves and kissing her with equal desperation and force. They're so cold and wet, but they find warmth in close proximity and needy touches.
They're backing up towards the bed, and Allen groans in disapproval when she pulls away to take a seat. He's quick to join her, and allows her to wrap her arms around his neck. Though he's leaning in to steal more of her lips, she's turned her head so he misses and plants one to her cheek. Allen leans away to study her with curiosity. Her eyes are lowered and he feels something like fear that she may be regretting this.
"Lenalee…?"
"I didn't want to tell you the truth because it meant admitting to myself that I loved one of my family in a way unlike the rest… and I would want to hog you to myself." She confesses, quietly. "I am so selfish."
Lenalee raises her eyes to his, and he finds not regret in those vivid eyes of hers, just…
…Well, he can only assume that the look in her eyes is love. He can only assume… and hope.
"Be selfish, then." He says, dipping his head to plant a kiss at her jaw. "Please hog me."
A euphoric sigh escapes her lips, and to Allen's delight Lenalee is kissing him again. But this time she's moving things nicely along, flicking her tongue across his lips and eliciting a sound from him that he wasn't sure he could have ever done before now. In response he parts his lips, and they have taken the kiss to a more intimate level. Trading space for taste and– oh, she does taste good.
She's been taking the most initiative, he's noticed, as their tongues dance and she fumbles with his necktie. But when words like 'I love you' pass, what's left to hide from one another? She is taking him and he is letting her.
Almost like some sort of dream he may have had early on, god forbid anyone know.
Allen joins in, tossing his soggy gloves to the ground working at the buttons of his shirt. Their lips have parted, but while Lenalee waits she plants eager kisses to his throat, making his breath come out shaky and hot.
If they were ever freezing from the rain, it was long forgotten by now.
With Allen's shirt tossed hastily to the floor, Lenalee startles him by crawling on his lap and straddling him. Hands at his torso, pawing every bit of bare skin. At first he shivers, enjoying the sensation of her fingers exploring him. But when she brushes over his scars, he winces and takes her hand, stopping her.
"I'm sorry…" she panics. "Does it hurt?"
"It's a bit sensitive, is all." He assures through a nervous smile. Taking her hand and kissing her knuckle.
She softens some, leaning in for a kiss. Now she begins pulling her shirt off.
Lenalee's body is perfect, but Allen always knew it. Even if he never saw her bare like this, in nothing but a skirt and bra, it never crossed his mind that she'd be anything but perfect.
He looses himself in her curves, brushing her sides with his right hand, and soon she encourages him to touch her with his left hand as well.
She never was shy of his innocence ridden arm. She never was shy of him.
His breath hitches, and he freezes. At first he doesn't know if she realizes how she grazed her crotch right over the growing bulge in his pants. In accordance, he pulls back to stare at her in shock. But she only wraps her arms around his neck, seizing his lips once more.
And she begins rolling her hips.
Wind is howling outside, and rain is pouring. Within the walls two teen exorcists are completely lost in their quickened breaths and bucking hips. Complete prisoners to their hormones.
Allen is absolutely squeezing her rear, moving with her to obtain that sweet friction. Clothes are well between them and their needy genitals, but god this feels so good.
And she's so hot, the sounds she makes are unlike anything he'd ever expect to hear from her. She's clinging to him and moving near frantically. It's a wonder how he can hear her moan amidst the screeching of the bed.
This is becoming too much, when Allen feels a climbing sensation. And it dawns on him just how badly he wants her.
Gripping her hips he forces the panting Chinese girl to stop the ministrations. Looking at her with lusty eyes, that she completely returns.
"Allen…" she whispers between hot breaths. And he stops her with a heated kiss.
He doesn't stop her when she pushes him down on his back, straddling him on the creaking hotel bed. She leans forward, breasts flush against his chest while she shimmies some… he sees now that she's slipping free of her panties, and his heart is racing even faster.
He joins her, unbuckling his pants as fast as he can. The desperate horny teenager in him eager to follow her down this path. With him free of the uncomfortable confides of his trousers, he's suddenly shy at the sight of Lenalee staring down at him. She's completely flushed, and almost nervous.
But she's not backing off, instead crawling up his body. Lips to his, tongue eagerly finding its way back in his mouth.
Oh god. She's on his lap.
Oh god, she touched him there– her hands are so soft.
Oh GOD, she's so wet and he's having such a hard time breathing with her folds just barely touching the tip of his erection. When she rubs experimentally against him, he positively moans in desperation.
"L-Lenalee, ugh…" His head is thrown against the pillow, and she seems to smile in anticipation. Tucking hair behind her ear.
Then she lowered her hips.
Her arms tremble at his sides, fisting the sheets beneath them. He has to practically force himself not to lose it right there, but that was a feat on it's own. Because Lenalee is so tight and warm, and he can't imagine anything more welcoming than her body. There's a pause before she just lets go, hips crashing down on him so that he's completely inside her.
He groans audibly, gripping her hips.
It's the cry that escapes her lips that forces him to open his eyes and regard her.
She's having a hard time, and that frightens him. He's hurting her, isn't he? Lenalee's eyes are shut tight and she's biting her bottom lip. Trembling over him. While the sensation of her flexing over his length isn't bad, the fact she's uncomfortable makes him worry.
But she's already trying to move and he has to grip her tighter to stop her.
"Don't, Lenalee…"
"I-I have to." She shudders. Letting go of the sheets to rest her palms at his chest.
"Just give it a second to adjust." He gasps, feeling her move more. "Please wait…!"
"No!" She is raising her hips, with or without his approval. "I'm tired of waiting, Allen. I've waited too long for you, I won't wait anymore."
He can hardly wrap his head around that, as he is startled. But even if he had something to say, he didn't get the chance. Her hips crash down on him, and they are both crying out.
Lenalee is hasty. With little regard to the pain she's feeling, she is moving fast against him. But that look of discomfort begins fading away, and she trades her cries for moans.
Allen can't really object. With the friction of her womanhood, and the noises she's making, he can't even begin to think of doing anything but this.
She's riding him fast and hard, hair and ribbons tossing side to side behind her– those supple breasts bouncing against her chest. It becomes too much for her, as her arms give out and she's lying against him. Clinging to Allen's sweaty and breathless form while she continues the merciless thrust of her hips.
Now she's moaning in his ear while she impales herself over and over, the thunder just outside crashing loud but not loud enough to silence her.
And Allen loses it.
He gives into his primal urges, taking her by the hips and flipping her over, making her gasp in surprise. He doesn't keep her waiting, as he plunges back in. He has seized control, hovering over his comrade while he thrusts in and out of her with minimal gentleness. No, he's lost to the feeling of her and her the sounds she can't withhold.
Lenalee's clawing at his shoulders, tossing her head back and moaning with gained volume. Her legs wrap around his back. His hips move like a piston, positively taking Lenalee as fast and hard as he can.
He's suffocated by her scents, the familiarity of home putting his aching heart to rest. She's his home now. He can't imagine being as intimate with anyone as he is with her. She's always been the one to touch the barriers he raised, pleading for entry.
She may not know everything, but she's definitely within him. Lenalee is probing him and destroying his barriers with each kiss, each touch, each moan of his name–
Fuck, he could listen to her scream 'Allen' forever.
"Please!
Allen, yes!
Don't stop!
Allen!"
"Lenalee!" He's crying out for her in return, gaining momentum and approaching a sensation he's sure he's been denied all his life.
The thunder howls outside, as if in mock disapproval of their actions. But either could give a damn less as they move against each other for all that they're worth.
He's so close to that peak, grunting and sweating as he grinds over her. And he's taking her with him.
"Lenalee… Oh god, Lenalee!" The mantra spills past his lips.
"G-uh!"
He took her there. She's arching into him and his rapid movements. She stiff, rigid– pulsing. Screaming. Her walls are squeezing him and convulsing in such a manner that it's impossible not too cum right after she reaches her orgasm.
A dragged out moan escapes him as he releases everything he's got. Her face is in chest, right against his hammering heart. They both reached that savory high, and tremble as they climb down.
There's nothing but heavy breathing, rain, thunder, flashes of lightning… Lenalee is so soft beneath him. Allen's drowsy, but somehow he's got enough energy to lay beside her and prop himself up on an elbow to watch her steady her breathing. Her eyes are closed and she's likely tired out of her mind. He's coaxing her to sleep as he brushes the back of his fingers over her flushed cheek, leaned over her, content with the warmth she gives off.
But Lenalee doesn't sleep yet. Instead she opens her tired eyes, holding her hand over his. Smiling just a bit.
"Now I do wish I told you sooner."
"Then you're a masochist." He sighs, touching his forehead to hers. "It hurts."
"Yeah. It does."
He succumbs to ease in the sensation of her fingers tracing through his white hair. His silver eyes lightly graze over her gentle expression. Her eyes are slipping shut. She's going to fall asleep.
And it's going to be the last she sees of him for a long time.
"I love you, Lenalee."
This. This was also the most honest he's ever been with her. And for that he feels a fat tear roll down his cheek.
"Allen…" her voice has gotten even more quiet.
"I wish I could have found out sooner."
He buries his face in her shoulder. Her hand is no longer petting him. She's sleeping soundly.
And he may never sleep for days.
Allen lingers in the doorway for some time as he stares at the bed. Lenalee is covered in bed sheets, fast asleep. Likely thinking she's still in his arms. He holds Timcanpy on his fingers, shifting them while the golem crawls about.
All he can think of is how unfair it is, to have to leave her sleeping alone.
He wishes he could have given into sleep and just lost himself in her hold.
It would have been better than this.
He's left 'home' before, but now he's leaving 'home again'.
She's all tuckered out and beautiful and warm, amidst the covers.
As he heads out the door he's greeted by sunlight and the end of a storm. Allen tells himself he'll go back home one day.
He'll go back to Lenalee.
A/N: It's been years since I wrote again. Well... With actual desire to publish ;_; Anyway, I wrote this to 'Devil May Cry' by The Weekend. If you want... idunno, ambiance. I hope it's to everyone's liking! I just really wanted some smut of them based on current-ish manga events. Thanks for reading, reviews are welcome.