I'm only halfway through the anime and have a limited grasp on character development and history so please excuse me if you find this a bit OOC. Also please tell me if anything is seriously wrong. In any case, warning for explicit m/m sex.
…
Lavi has never thought much about dirt before. As a Bookman-in-training it's been beaten into him that he needs to be completely aware of and attuned to his surroundings at all times, but he's never really paid much heed to the soil under his feet. It never seemed important.
Now, as he crouches in the muddy grass, clumps of sodden clay clinging to his boots, he can't get it out of his mind. It sticks, it's heavy, it's suffocating. He wonders briefly what it would be like to be buried, earth packed tightly to his body and blinding him, working its way into his eyes, his nose, his mouth until his breath gives out. Dirt reeks of death.
He hears the rustle of grass and the squelch of mud behind him, but he doesn't bother looking up. There is only one person it could be, and Kanda has never been one for following social etiquette. Instead, he stares blankly at the crudely carved gravestone in front of him. Bookman's body had been turned to ash before being scattered in the dirt a foot down, and Lavi isn't sure if this is better or worse than an offering of dead flesh to the cloying mud. He supposes it doesn't matter, because as an Exorcist and a Bookman he will be cremated no matter what his wishes are.
"It's kind of ironic," he says softly, and he's not quite sure whether he is talking to himself or to Kanda. "I spent so long fighting off feelings because he told me, 'no personal attachments' and now he's gone and I don't feel anything."
Lavi laughs dryly. "I guess the stupid old panda would be proud."
Kanda says nothing in return and Lavi stands, finally turning to face him. He has no idea why Kanda is here, but then he has never been able to get a proper read on why the long-haired Exorcist did anything. No amount of prodding or teasing on his part had provided him with answers as to what made Kanda Yuu tick. All he'd ever gotten was bruises and burst eardrums.
"Why are you here?" he asks eventually, not that he cares. He can feel the skin of 'Lavi' shedding, and he's not sure how he feels about that. If he steps out of that comfortable, joking persona who will he be? Merely a Bookman, he supposes, like has been planned for him from the beginning.
Kanda stares at him for such a time that he figures he won't get an answer anyway, but then his lips part slowly. "To make sure you don't break."
"Ah." Lavi's face stretches into a grin devoid of mirth. It makes complete sense that Kanda has only come because he was ordered to. A Bookman is important, after all. For what he is, not who he is. "To protect the newest Bookman from himself. But why would they send Mr. Emotionless Kanda Yuu?"
Kanda doesn't react to the childish jibe, merely turning away and staring into the distance.
"Does it amuse you, seeing me like this?" For some reason, Kanda's non-responsiveness is starting to piss him off. "Yuu-chan?"
There is no snapped don't call me that, no reaching for his sword or offensive stance. The long tail of Kanda's hair simply flutters calmly in the breeze.
"Is this funny to you?" Lavi doesn't know how, but his hands are buried in the lapels of Kanda's coat, his teeth clenched and jaw aching. Inside him is an empty pit, which he is fast filling with hot lead balls of anger. "I'm not Lavi. I'm not a Bookman. I'm barely an Exorcist. I have no real ties to anyone or anything. I'm floating on a fucking cloud of nothing. I don't –" His voice breaks, and he ends the sentence quietly. "I don't know who I am."
Annoyed at himself, and at Kanda, and the world, Lavi pushes away only to find Kanda is staring at him again, eyes gleaming blue-gray in the fading light. "You're not the only one who doesn't know who he is."
Lavi snorts. He doesn't have the patience for Kanda's cryptic advice at the best of times, and definitely not now. "Oh yeah? Then tell me, Dr. Yuu, what do you propose I do? How the hell do I fix this goddamn gaping hole inside of me? Because filling it up with knowledge just doesn't help."
Kanda looks unsure for a second, his gaze wavering, but his face quickly returns to a blank slate. "If you want, I can help."
"Sure," Lavi returns sarcastically. "You're always so helpful."
Kanda simply shrugs and turns away. "It's up to you."
…
He's in Kanda's room, and he's not sure how he got here. Kanda is somehow shirtless, and his mind isn't working fast enough to process anything other than that fact.
And then Kanda's lips are on his, and it's warm and gentle, and he'd never imagined Kanda could be like this, never even wanted to – "Why?" he chokes out, though his body refuses to move.
Kanda's slim fingers spider over his chest, undoing buttons, removing layers, and he doesn't get his answer until he's pushed back onto the bed, long dark blue hair tickling his now bare shoulders and hot breath in his ear. "Anchor."
Lavi doesn't get it, and damn he's meant to be smarter than this, but Kanda is warm on top of him and he finds he can't help but reach out to the heat. To his surprise, the blue-haired Exorcist elaborates without prompting. "Physical contact makes you feel more human. Grounds you."
This time when Kanda kisses him Lavi responds in kind, pushing out all thought and concentrating solely on the feeling of Kanda's tongue in his mouth and the nails raking lightly down his chest. He can't help but wonder, though, how many men the stoic Exorcist has used before like this, to 'ground' himself.
The thought is lost when Kanda's lips trail down his neck, softly then more insistent, wet and hard. Kanda stops just short of biting him, and he knows there'll be marks left in the morning but he can't bring himself to care. It feels good to give complete control of his body to someone else, because it's been a long time since he's felt he had any semblance of control over his life anyway.
Lavi hisses when Kanda's teeth close too tight around his nipple, back arching off the mattress involuntarily. Kanda licks him apologetically, fingers firmly but gently roaming over his chest and dipping between his thighs. The blue-haired head slides lower, nose dragging down past his navel, and a warm tongue strokes the strip of skin just above the waistband of his pants.
Lavi breathes in sharply, and his cock twitches in anticipation. He has no time for disbelief, because Kanda is dragging his zipper down with his teeth and his underwear is growing damp but that doesn't matter because suddenly it's gone, replaced with Kanda's mouth, his lips, his tongue – "Y-Yuu…" His voice is shaky, but so is everything else.
The other man pays him no heed, simply running his tongue along the underside of his now straining cock, shifting upwards to engulf the head in his warm, wet mouth, his thumbs pressing hard into the tender flesh of Lavi's inner thighs.
"Shit, Yuu." Lavi tugs the tie from Kanda's hair, because all he wants now is to bury his fingers in it, tangle it, see it all messed up and sweaty. Kanda is always composed; his appearance is immaculate even in the hell aftermath of an akuma bloodbath, and Lavi wants to see him fall to pieces.
Kanda glares at him, and Lavi feels himself grow harder. He vows that he will never forget this sight – not that he ever forgets anything. Kanda is perfect like this; his grey eyes narrowed in anger, wet lips stretched wide around his cock and nose pressed deep into the wiry curls at the base, hair loose and drifting in waves around his pale face.
Lavi twists his fingers into that gorgeous hair – it's softer than he'd ever imagined – and tugs forward, encouraging the older man to take him deeper, suck him harder. Kanda obliges with little resistance, curling his tongue wetly around his shaft.
He jumps a little when he feels pressure on his backside, and twitches even more when something slick presses against his asshole and slides inside. "W-what?"
Any protest he has is silenced as Kanda slides up his body and kisses him quiet, nipping his lips sharply and demanding entrance silently with his tongue. His mind is a whirlwind of thought anyway, and it's Kanda's finger wiggling inside him and he has no idea how to process that.
"Concentrate," Kanda growls. "Don't think." And he does.
Lavi calls on all his Bookman training to force himself into the moment, to clearly distinguish every particle surround him. He feels the full weight of Kanda covering him, the heaviness of his cock wet beneath his pants and nestled in the curve of his hip. He feels the long slim fingers inside of him, two now, stretching, pushing, slick and wet. He can hear Kanda breathe, feel his panting breath against his cheek and his thundering heartbeat reverberating through his chest. Thin strands of dark blue hair brush over his face and shoulders, and Kanda's face is perfect, delicate and pale in its strength, and he's not sure why he's never noticed this before.
His nostrils are filled with the heady scent of his and Kanda's sweat mingling, sticking them together or creating lubricant he's not sure. Kanda's body fits seamlessly against his own and in this moment he thinks he understands what 'grounding' means. Here, right now, it doesn't matter who he is, or what is expected of him. He is simply alive, in the best way possible, and he can feel.
Kanda now has three fingers inside him and it's his own breath he can hear, releasing unevenly between gasps and what he's embarrassed to admit may actually be moans. He doesn't understand what he wants now, but whatever it is, this is not enough. His hips rise to meet each thrust of his partner's fingers, his hands clawing into that strong, pale back. "Yuu," he gasps, uncaring of how he might sound, "More."
Kanda removes his fingers abruptly and sits back, leaving Lavi feeling inconceivably empty. The Exorcist's hands move to his pants, freeing his own erection for the first time, and Lavi cannot tear his eyes away as those delicate fingers stoke up and down languidly.
"Roll over."
Unthinking, Lavi does as instructed and finds his face jammed into Kanda's pillow. It smells of his shampoo, something citrusy. His legs are pushed under him, knees spread so his ass is in the air. Something hard and slippery – Kanda's cock – rubs wetly against the crack of his ass. He has never felt more vulnerable.
He cries out when Kanda pushes inside, more from surprise than anything else, but it hurts. Kanda leans over him, hair swinging like a blue curtain, and peppers hard kisses along his shoulder blades. Lavi buries his face in the pillow.
"You will adjust," Kanda says, and Lavi thinks it's supposed to be reassuring. It's true though, because after a few strained moments Kanda pulls back and thrusts forward again, and it feels strangely good. His fingers lock into the blanket beneath him for support, and Kanda's hands slide down to tightly cover them, his breath hard and fast in his ear.
Lavi dims his focus down to the feeling of Kanda's cock sliding wetly in and out of his ass, spreading his legs wider and arching back to meet his thrusts. He moans and he knows he'll regret it, but Kanda's cock pounding into him just feels so good that he doesn't really care. He cums hard when Kanda moans hotly in his ear and lightly scrapes his teeth against his earlobe, hips never stilling. He's too out of it to notice when Kanda cums too.
…
Lavi blinks his eyes open slowly. He's almost convinced that what happened the night before had all be some sort of surreal dream, but the long blue hair spread out over the pillow beside him makes it kind of hard to keep believing that theory. He sits up and winces, rubbing his tailbone. Yeah, definitely not a dream.
Kanda sleeps facing the wall, body poised so as not to accidentally touch any part of Lavi. His expression is every bit as serious in sleep as it was awake, and it looks like he's chewing the inside of his cheek grumpily.
Lavi quietly reflects on the night's events. He doesn't really understand why Kanda had offered to sleep with him; he'd always thought the man barely put up with him. He guesses that in the end it doesn't really matter why, because he doesn't regret it. Kanda, in his strange, misguided way, has helped him find himself. He feels more solid than he has in months. He is a Bookman – the Bookman, now – but that doesn't mean he cannot continue to be Lavi. As long as he tamps down any seriously amorous feelings he doesn't have to change too much. It feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
Quietly, Lavi slips on his coat and pants. He must have passed out at some point, because it seems Kanda had cleaned him up and dressed him in a shirt and underpants (both smelling strongly of Order-regulation washing powder). He figures he can keep them; there's no way he's going to put his own wet underwear back on, he feels sticky enough already. His hand on the doorknob he pauses, and pads back to the bed.
Carefully, he brushes the hair back off Kanda's face and kisses him softly on the lips. "Thanks, Yuu." Lavi grins, and slips back towards the door. "Just don't expect anything to change between us. I am going to annoy the hell outta you when you wake up."
Because he is Lavi, after all.
…
