A/N: I feel like I write too many sad, angsty, and plotful stories. So, this is definitely not one of those. It's just smutty sex. Of course considering who's writing some stupid angst snuck in, but, well, don't read too much into it. Pretty much straight PWP.

Takes place some time in canon, around Christmas.

Warning: Sex. A lot of it. Have fun.

Snow Hare in December

"Hey, Yu, did you know there're rabbits that change color with the season?"

Kanda knew he was supposed to say "No." He knew he was supposed to pretend to not listen while Lavi prattled on anyway about completely trivial facts in typical Bookmen fashion. He also knew this was a question about an innocuous subject like nature and shouldn't have brought up images of a certain rabbit-like person, splashing in the Mediterranean Sea with a beautiful summer tan. Or the next image of the same said person, bundled orange scarf flowing in an Alpine blizzard, emerald eye framed with crystalline lashes stark against pale creamy skin.

But it did. So Kanda, unfazed, said:

"You mean, like you?"

"Wha – I don't change co…"

He watched the redhead catch himself, comprehension dawning as a small frown creased his eyebrows. "Don't be daft, Yu," Lavi chided, a bundle of nerves as he cautiously looked around. Kanda couldn't hold back a smirk. He was being unnecessarily reckless, he knew, but it was a nice indulgence, once in a while.

It was the first of December. They were sitting by the hearth in the Order library, the setting sun framed against a thin, brittle windowpane. Signs of festivity were beginning to permeate Home – a green garland here, a red candle there. Things that made Kanda annoyed and Lavi jubilant. Lenalee had a pronounced bounce in her step and Allen had practically moved into Jerry's increasingly busy kitchen.

"It wasn't false," Kanda pushed, just because.

Lavi gave him a rare narrowed eye but a faint blush was beginning to color his cheeks. Kanda smirked again. Slowly he inched forward, knees scraping hard stone, until his face was even with the redhead's. There was a sprig of mistletoe hanging above the fireplace, which Kanda found nauseatingly befitting.

"No one's here," he said, catching his lover's lower lip with his teeth. "And fuck them, if they were."

At a cursory glance Kanda Yu was the one with all the chips. Skin white as milk, hair blue as nightfall, face a flawless marvel and body a perpetual self-repairing machine. Even amongst people in the know there riled envy and lust. Who wouldn't want to remain young and beautiful forever, even if the cost was astronomical and as volatile as a falling star?

Clever packaging – that was all that was. Underneath the epithelial his cells were horrible mutations of spent parts and shriveled cores, barely chugging along as they died and rebirthed, over and over. The torn muscles had knotted themselves like overgrown vine, gripping onto the hanging organs like bulbous clusters of scars. He had never voiced the discomforts, however, and the raptured admirers doggedly ignored his fetid insides as they watched him charge into battle, lovely and graceful, and come out deceivingly the same.

In contrast Lavi the junior Bookman hid the better part of his physique under layers of superfluous tatters. The oversized hammer took attention away from the clean masculine lines of his body, further blurred by the constant exaggerated movements. The lopsided grin greatly obscured the sensitive turn of his mouth. Kanda liked that mouth; had stared at it discreetly for hours while under the pretense of deep meditation. That was enough for a while, just watching. But eventually looks turned to thoughts, which then turned to want, which wreaked havoc in Kanda's few but firmly established principles.

The desires culminated one night when they were snowbound in Madrid. Lavi had run his ink-stained hands over the divots along Kanda's knotted legs, followed the hollow collapse of his ribcage, and took his rubbery knuckles into his mouth and sucked on them like an irreverent pilgrim. Kanda got hard then, was surprised that he still could, and even more surprised at how easy it was to get there.

They were young and idiotic with zero prior experience, so that first time was done with just Lavi's wet lips and Kanda's wetter fingers. Afterwards they tried rubbing on snow to cool the burns, which turned out to be another horrible mistake, but halfway between hysterical laughter and sharp yelps of pain they still managed to come together. Of course the following morning they couldn't meet each other's eyes without someone turning bright red. But that was alright, because Lavi was still there by his side, and that was more than what Kanda had expected of the skittish man.

They slept together a few more times before Bookman caught on. The old man gave his pupil as much of a public scolding as allowed, which Kanda was fortunately not present for. Later he found the admonished redhead kneeling in the Order's main chapel, reciting passages about sodomy and lust from various holy books. He had not slept for two days straight, and was slightly delirious when Kanda arrived. Bookman was there too, monitoring. So Kanda got on his knees under the statue of the Virgin, flipped the old man the finger, and proceeded to ravish the penitent's mouth with his own.

Lavi jerked away before he could slip his tongue in. Bookman sighed. "That is quite enough," he said, and waved his hand at his pupil who, to his credit, kept his gaze solely on the statue's stone feet. Kanda leaned back on his heels, a sneer on his face, and waited for Bookman to slowly, deliberately walk away.

"Yu, come on, we're in a church," Lavi groaned, once they were alone.

"You weren't even reciting the Bible."

"That's not the point."

"Tch."

Silence. After a moment, Kanda felt a dirty thought surface, and his cock stirred to life.

"Want to fuck on that?" he pointed to the altar.

"Are you insane?" the redhead's voice was an echoing hiss in the empty chapel. But Kanda saw a flicker of interest a split second before the mask of abhorrence slammed down. Enough to fuel the desire pooling in Kanda's stomach. More than enough to answer Lavi's rhetorical question with a resounding: "Not at all."

==OOO==

It was well into December and the Order was now draped in even more cheerful foliage. Kanda couldn't take two steps outside his room without hearing a hummed carol or seeing something colorful flash by. It made him as cranky as a bear awoken from hibernation. There were no more missions, at least until the new year, so the best Kanda could do to distract himself was either stay in his room all day or roam the Order, a cloud of black humour, and pick unnecessary fights along the way.

The Bookmen, however, were the one exception. Lavi had gone with his master down to the villages for the better part of two weeks, toting the grand reason of researching local folklore. Kanda smelled bullshit, but aside from terrorizing Komui's office he had little recourse. Allen did try to 'help' by constantly getting in his face. Kanda supposed it worked, in a way, as the doldrums of the days passed by just a smidge faster with the sound of bloody curses and the swish of Mugen's blade.

At last, Lavi came back one night sans Bookman, all glittery snow and rosy cheeks. "I snuck out," he said to Kanda as the swordsman peppered his neck with bites and kisses. "We finished recording days ago, but the old man kept giving me the same work to do-over. I mean there're only so many ways I can draw the Well of Youth, yeah? I was literally running out of parchment by the end."

"How did you escape?" Kanda asked as they rolled naked onto his bed. Lavi got on his stomach, slim hips arched sensually against the swordsman's dripping erection. Kanda inserted two fingers (coated with oil stolen from the kitchen; they've since learned) and languorously stretched, keeping to a steady rhythm. He could feel Lavi tensing up as he probed deeper, and when he turned his hand so the knuckles rubbed directly on top of the redhead's most sensitive spot he was rewarded with a drawn-out moan, muffled by the pillow, and the trembling of the rapidly reddening shoulders.

They were in Lavi's second favorite position (the first would require a rope and sturdier anchors than Kanda's shoddy bedposts, and more patience than they had right then). It meant that the redhead could hide his face in the throes of ecstasy and regather himself before the inevitable post-coital conversation. (Not that Kanda was a fan of any conversation, especially after fucking, but Lavi, at least the persona, was.) It was a compromise that the two of them had agreed upon, shortly after their tryst had sort of become a regular 'thing.'

"How did you escape?" Kanda asked again. Lavi's breath caught as he squirmed and pushed against the intruding fingers. Kanda didn't relent. His own cock was wet with precome, and as he stared at the patch of sweat pooling in the hollow of Lavi's glistening back, the urge to ram in at once was overwhelming. But that was exactly what the redhead would've wanted. Payback's a bitch, isn't it? Kanda thought scathingly, and withdrew his fingers. There was no way he'd give in to that damn rabbit after his idiotic and self-imposed exile.

He ignored the whimper that followed and slid up, deliberately rubbing the mess from his cock into the crack of the pale ass in front of him. With each turn he probed the opening deeper, and when the head was almost fully enveloped he felt the redhead's impatience culminate into an almost desperate plea.

"More…" Lavi moaned. "Yu, please…I didn't trudge all the way through the snow just to be teased…like…this…"

"I asked you a question," Kanda said, leaning forward to kiss the dip of the spine. His hands gripped the hipbones, holding them steady so he can push agonizingly slow into the tight velvety hole. When he was buried to the hilt he stopped, listened to the shaky intake of breath, and then, just as slowly, began to pull out again.

"I – I got –" Lavi swallowed, voice hoarse with desire. "I got some valerian powder off a local medicine woman. Mixed it in with Gramps' tobacco when he wasn't looking. It won't do much – there, right – ah – just knock him out until, tomorrow, probably."

Kanda couldn't keep the smirk off his face. It had taken him quite some time to pin down that spot, but once he did he almost never had to touch Lavi's cock anymore to make him come. He adjusted his position, settling nicely into the warm cavern before beginning to thrust in earnest. Lavi flailed against the bedspread, grip white-hot as their bodies slid against each other, moans quieting down as he became more and more roused.

Eventually Lavi stopped making any sound save for his harsh, ragged breathing. Kanda knew he had reached his limit then. He had initially assumed, like everyone else, that Lavi would be just as vocal in bed as he was in everyday conversation. But it turned out to be the exact opposite; the more the redhead got into it the quieter he became. Sometimes Kanda'd feel extra prickly and hold off on his thrusts, just to see how long it would last. Lavi would actually get pissed at him post-coital, but it was well worth it, if only to see the utter look of rapture on his lover's face after the prolonged denial.

Tonight, however, Kanda was impatient. Perhaps the arbitrary absence did make fond of his merciless heart. He sped up his pace, balls slapping against sweaty skin with each hard thrust. Lavi was a rigid plank against him, precome smearing into sheets below. Kanda leaned forward, put his mouth onto salt-slick skin, and clamped down with his teeth.

That did the trick. Lavi jerked violently, hands balling into fists as spurts of come ribboned onto the bed. The muscles spasmed around his cock and Kanda felt himself follow. He let out a grunt, cock throbbing almost painfully before everything spilled into the still tightening hole. It was fast and intense and temporarily disorienting – exactly how Kanda liked it. He pulled out after he caught his breath, leaving a creamy white trail onto the back of the redhead's thighs.

"God, Yu, did you really have to do that?" Lavi exclaimed as he recovered from his own euphoria. "It's gonna leave a mark for the next few days!"

"You deserved it," Kanda spat, and fell like a stone on top.

Bookman did not return until the next morning. Nor did he call upon his pupil during the night. Instead Lavi got a summons from Komui shortly after breakfast. "Maybe it's for a mission?" He speculated, to which Kanda only gave a derisive snort in response.

Lavi hemmed and hawed about going until Kanda had to practically throw him out of his room. (He did consider physically dragging him to Komui's office but decided against it. Kanda Yu was no one's babysitter!) Lavi managed to sneak him a quick kiss before running down the hall. Good riddance, he thought, and kicked at a stray ornament lying outside his door. It was high time to retreat and meditate away all these joyous complications in peace.

He found the presumably chastised redhead later in the cafeteria. Lavi was wolfing down a large plate of ravioli while chatting animatedly with Allen Walker. The fact that he was still physically here was a good sign. Kanda had entertained the idea of the Bookmen vanishing from the Order altogether. It made him so cranky that he had to run Mugen through at least five festive wreaths on his way to here.

Lavi was retelling some story from the village recording when Kanda unceremoniously dropped down beside them. The beansprout was only half listening, attention laser focused on the giant heap of holiday pastries spread out on the table. Kanda tuned the chatter out, his thoughts wondered to the feast they were to host a few days from now. He'd have to make sure he locked his door tight, or better yet, get off the compound entirely. He'd never make the mistake of underestimating Lenalee's persistence ever again.

By the time he had finished his soba in resolute silence Allen had cleared most of the stack and left. Lavi had finally stopped talking and was working on his meal. Kanda wrenched his eyes away from the smear of tomato-alfredo clinging to the redhead's Cupid's bow. "Let me guess," he said, "you now have three days of memorizing boring ass books in the cold to do?"

"Actually, no. In fact, I don't have to do anything except to buy Gramps another pouch of tobacco and turn the sleep powder over to the Science Division. I mean I didn't escape a harsh tongue lashing, but that's kind of a formality now, you know?"

Kanda raised an eyebrow. Did Komui somehow managed to calm Bookman's wrath? Maybe there was a caring heart and a persuasive tongue hidden under that flake of a brain after all.

Lavi caught his expression and threw up his hands. "I don't understand either. When I walked out the office I kept expecting something to suddenly drop on me, like Panda'll just say 'haha good joke' and then I'll be boxed away with Komlin EX for a week. I mean on one hand I'm really glad nothing's happening but on the other – Yu, what if this is all a giant trap, and just as I let my guard down – bam! – he springs on me whatever the real punishment is?"

"…I think you're being a paranoid idiot."

"Oi," Lavi nudged him, a sly look in his eye. "You think now being Christmas has anything to do with it? The forgiving spirit and all?"

"No," Kanda said, and leaned in to kiss him. The cafeteria was now almost empty save for a few Finders by the window. But he was still pleasantly surprised when Lavi obliged, in full view of others, and wholeheartedly kissed him back.

==OOO==

It was the morning of the Black Order Christmas party and Kanda already hated everything. Starting with the bright sunlight shining squarely into his eyes from the window. He cursed at the blinding rays and kicked the cover off only to discover that he was, indeed, alone. Lavi was with him when he went to bed, but there was no trace of the redhead anywhere now.

Kanda debated if he should bother getting out of bed. He wasn't going to venture outside those doors until at least nightfall; hunger be damned. It'd still be way better than braving all the smiling faces and cheerful chats and whatever tricks Lenalee had devised to get him to the party. He'd miss Jerry's soba, sure, but the cook also made them on New Year's, and that usually was a much more subdued affair. The past few years he'd successfully sneaked out without any fuss. (He did possess a modicum of stealth skills, should the occasion call.) So Kanda rolled over, pulled the pillow on top of his head, and once again determined to fall back asleep.

Unfortunately, his golem chose that exact moment to crackle to life.

"Hey Yu!" exclaimed the only voice that could rival the goddamn sun in brilliance. "Are you up yet? Listen, sorry for bailing so early but Gramps kind of made me volunteer to help Jerry all day. I had to be here at dawn to bake bread and didn't want to wake ya. Anyways, if you're up you should come down 'cause I just made soba and am not sure if it's done right. Need a regular to test, yeah? So come on! I know you're awake and listening 'cause you haven't hung up on me yet. Don't bring Mugen, okay? Gotta go!"

Well, so much for rest. Kanda contemplated ignoring this too – it could be a trap to ambush him outside his door! – but the promise of freshly made soba was too enticing. All wordy preambles aside, he knew Lavi made it especially for him. And contrary to popular belief, Kanda was, occasionally, not an ungrateful asshole.

With a dejected sigh he got out of bed and got dressed. With Mugen on his hip (Don't bring it? Ha!) he opened the door to a hallway filled with ribbons and crackers and stupid cheerful atmosphere. Well, at least there were a copious amount of popping streamers for target practice along the way.

There was a reason why Lavi was born to quickly take on knowledge. No, it was not to become a Bookman (although the training of the eye proved helpful). It was to make the most goddamn delicious soba noodles this side of the Orient. Paired with some perfectly fried tempura and a smattering of Jerry's famous pickled ginger, well, let's just say that if Kanda believed in any kind of heavenly afterlife, here was as close as it got.

The first bite made him rethink every single noodle dish he'd ever eaten. The second bite immediately made him forget them. The dough had the perfect texture, slipping through his teeth with just the right amount of bounce. The tsuyu sauce – good gracious – was a divine balance of dashi and soy. It was light and savory, coated the buckwheat like a gentle caress on the still-damp bamboo tray. Kanda was hardly aware how fast he was eating until everything practically evaporated from his sight.

"How was it?" Lavi asked him. The fact that they were consumed at an inhuman speed should've tipped the idiot off. However, that said idiot was directly responsible for providing Kanda this tiny slice of not-quite-heaven. So instead of blurting out a brisk reply he tilted his head, narrowed his eyes into a sort of pleased slant, and said, "It's good."

"Good? As in good good?" the green eye grew comically large as the redhead gawked. "Wow! Yu, I'm so happy you think so! You have no idea what I had to do to make –"

"What do you want?"

"Huh?" Alas, he didn't really think that Kanda would linger on a compliment more than absolutely necessary, did he? "What do I want? Nothing! I made it for you – it's Christmas, you know, gift giving and all that. You liking it is enough for me."

"I thought you said this was a taste test?"

"Oh, right, um…" a deeper blush crept up Lavi's already reddening face. "This is just the first batch, you see – for you to test. But now that I know it's good enough I have to start on the rest – for later, yeah?"

"Sure," Kanda said, not bothering with the awkward lie. (Almost-heaven, remember?) He stood up abruptly, nose tip almost grazing the redhead's chin as he did so. "What do you want in return?"

"Um…didn't I just answer that? I don't want anything."

Kanda let his hand dip into the waistband of Lavi's pants. He played with the boxers, the swell of imminent arousal warm on his fingertips. Lavi did not stammer nor back up, like he had expected, but moved closer so his shirt hem draped over Kanda's wrist. Around them came the bustling sound of a busy kitchen dotted with Jerry's sharp instructions. Kanda smirked. He tugged at the stiffness, a knowing look in his eyes, and waited.

"Oh," Lavi said, understanding, and a twitch of his flour-stained lips was all Kanda needed to see.

Jerry had a cupboard the size of two grown men in the back of his kitchen. It faced the walk-in freezer, well out of the way and filled to the brim with jars of pickles, preserves, marmalades, and fermented soy beans. There was a gap between it and the back wall, just large enough for someone to squeeze in without banging their elbows. If the cupboard doors were also left open – which they frequently were, especially on busy days like this – two people could easily hide behind it, should they stand very close to each other. Or if one was crouched between the other's legs, like Kanda was, right now.

He shifted his weight. Not only was the cold air from that damn freezer blowing straight at his back, but the hard marble floor was doing quite a number on his knees. Lavi's hands fisted in his hair, pulling the strands loose from his ponytail. He had taken the redhead's erection in his mouth and was tonguing the slit eagerly. Although the surrounding noise was more than enough to mask any indecent sounds, Lavi was biting back his moans so hard that his lips had started to bleed.

Kanda was known for his flagrant disregard to scandal, but even he had to admit that this situation had definitively taken the cake. He was giving an impromptu blowjob in the middle of a packed kitchen during holiday rush, for fuck's sake. Should anyone pay a smidge more attention than quickly grabbing jars off shelves they'd be discovered, pronto. This should be a quick and dirty execution lasting at most a few minutes. Or better yet, be done back in the safety of either one of their rooms, Bookman the senior notwithstanding.

But Kanda knew that wouldn't have worked. Lavi was an unabashed exhibitionist through and through, regardless of the lip service he'd paid regarding their relationship. The fact that they were concealed under the flimsiest of circumstances was what was keeping his dick rock hard down Kanda's throat. His face, currently a contorted mess, was the proof of his psyche teetering on the knife edge between debilitating fear and ecstatic rapture.

Kanda loved it. Loved the moment when Lavi's breath caught as he eased his fingers into him. Loved it more when they touched that spot and the knobby knees almost buckled in reflex. The pale thighs were flushed red and trembling, and the thrust into his mouth tasted of desperation. Kanda smirked. He freed his own dripping erection from his trousers. It was already making a mess of his underwear, and as soon as he stroked the head he felt the impending climax quickly approaching. Good thing that the redhead wasn't too far off. No way Kanda'd let himself come before Lavi does, but dragging it on for the sake of it really sounded tortuous at this point.

He sucked hard and deep, flicking his tongue against the sensitive slit. Lavi jerked against the wall, once, twice, before stilling completely and stiffening. A moment later a burst of bitterness flooded Kanda's tongue. The swordsman pulled back, cringing slightly although he was used to the taste. He spat the gob into a corner, hands continuing its motion on his own cock, and watched the redhead come down from his high.

"Yu – that's d–" the reprimand partially made its way out of Lavi's mouth before he (wisely) changed his mind. Instead his focus was on Kanda, the daze of afterglow made the green eye stark against the reddened cheeks. Kanda's mind wandered back to the conversation they had about color and wild rabbits. Tis really the season, he thought, not breaking eye contact, and swiftly came.

It was by some major misapplied miracle that they did not get caught. Even had time to wash themselves off by the sink before reemerging into the kitchen proper. Jerry did give Kanda a look when he exited, but he ignored it per usual and managed to make it back to his room without any further incidents. Lavi, however, had to stay behind to cook. "I'll see you later, okay?" he had thrown it at Kanda before he left. Well, knowing the redhead 'later' could be any stretch of time between a few hours and a week or two. So Kanda bolted the door, set himself down on the floor by his bed, and went into a deep meditation.

==OOO==

IIt was the night of the party. Kanda didn't go. Didn't even come out of trance until it was well under way. His stomach rumbled when he finally did, but nothing a bit of tea wouldn't fix. The clock on the wall indicated it was still too early to venture out, so he plopped back down on the floor with the cup of faintly warm oolong and waited.

At around 9 pm there was a quiet knock on his door. It was a familiar rap, and when Kanda swung it open there stood his redhaired lover, still dressed in the flour-dusted garbs from morning. He was holding a silver plate full of meat pastries. The aroma was making the starved swordsman salivate despite himself.

"Instead of a poor chef substitute you're now a delivery boy?" Kanda said.

Lavi chuckled. "Merry Christmas, Yu," he ignored the jab, leaning over to plant a kiss on Kanda's mouth. He smelled faintly of eggnog and cinnamon, flavors that Kanda hated with a passion, but the gesture was still very nice.

"Haven't kicked you out yet, I see." Kanda grabbed a pie and nibbled on a corner. It tasted absolutely divine.

"Nah, not drunk enough. Gramps' still there, though, so I have to go back posthaste."

"Tch."

"Here," Lavi pushed the plate into Kanda's hands. "Eat these before they get cold. You gonna be okay without my company for a few more hours?"

"I'll manage."

"Alright then." Lavi laughed, a bright sound in the empty hall. Kanda suppressed a smile. He leaned back against the door, the plate heavy in his arms, while Lavi headed back down the hall and blew him a kiss.

"I'll be back later, I promise. Leave the door unlocked for me, will ya?"

"Never," Kanda yelled. But of course he did.

==OOO==

It was Christmas morning and Kanda was woken up by a bird chirping like a dying banshee outside his window. He turned on his side, all ready to set Mugen loose on the horrid creature but rolled right into a warm body nestled next to his. The splash of red hair and the soft snores indicated the culprit. Kanda seethed. Normally Lavi's better sleeping habits didn't bother him, but right then he spent a good five minutes debating whether pushing the slumbering figure onto the cold hard floor was a worthy use of his time. In the end his brain decided 'not quite', and sadly he had to let that go.

Lavi had come to him sometime before dawn. Kanda only vaguely remembered hearing the lock click and a slight dip of the bed. He had expected to wake up to a noseful of stale alcohol and loud lamentation about hangovers, but everything was still and the pillow only smelled like Lavi's soap. His right arm was draped over the skinny waist, the sheets a warm cocoon around their bodies. It was a hell of a cozy way to wake up to.

"Mmm," Lavi stirred, half coherent mumbles escaping his lips. His hands haphazardly grabbed at Kanda's face, which Kanda dodged reflexively. "Ah…good morning, Yu. Did you sleep okay?"

"I'm going to fucking murder that bird."

The green eye cracked open in mirth. "Aww, Yu, leave it alone. It's just doing its own thing. Plus, it being this far north at this time of year is a miracle in itself. Come on, it's way too early to be this angry, especially on today of all days."

A sarcastic remark almost made its way out of Kanda's mouth before he swallowed it back. Annoying demon birds aside, he was spending a peaceful morning in bed with his lover, devoid of both impeding missions and supernatural threats. No one was banging on his door trying to drag him out to join the rest of society. He supposed he should count his blessings, but that would mean he had to admit he agreed, which he absolutely would not do.

"I'll take that as 'Lavi, you're so right,'" the redhead grinned. He twisted in Kanda's arms, leaning over so their noses almost touched. Kanda's hands drifted to the small of his back. Deft fingers stroked the skin, dipping lower to grab the muscles of the smooth naked ass. Lavi made a soft sound, hips grinding forward, and Kanda felt the beginning of a prominent morning arousal.

Before they could venture further, however, the redhead rolled back, crushing Kanda's hands and effectively stopping their movements. Kanda frowned. "What?" he pulled at his arms. "Too hungover?"

"No – well – a little." Lavi scrunched up his nose. "Jerry's eggnog packed quite a punch. But that's not why. I, uh, kinda promised Allen that I'd make him mincemeat pudding for breakfast. Started last night but haven't had time to put it together. So I sorta need to be in the kitchen in like," he glanced at the clock on the wall, "15 or so minutes."

"You're ditching me to fill beansprout's bottomless stomach?"

"Why, of course not. You're coming with me, Yu! I'll make you some tempura, and maybe we can raid the presents pile under the tree. You know Lenalee wrap all the best ones with super ugly paper? Those should be our prime targets."

Kanda narrowed his eyes. He successfully extracted his hands, and before Lavi could protest he quickly got on top. They struggled for a pathetically few minutes before he had the redhead under him, wrists pinned firmly into the pillows.

"I'm not going to the kitchen. And neither are you," Kanda dictated. Allen Walker could fucking starve for all he cared. "I am, however, going to fuck you into the mattress until I'm satisfied. Maybe longer."

"Tempting proposal, I admit, but to give up all those things for a single good lay…hmm, what else you got to offer?"

"The second time – I'll let you fuck me."

Lavi's mouth dropped open. But his eye quickly took on that look, the kind that edged out the persona just enough for the man to show through. He wrested free his hands, hooked them behind Kanda's neck, and sported a grin like a devious imp.

"Alright, fine, you've convinced me. It's on!"

They ended up doing it three times before the sun made its path halfway through the sky. Afterwards they curled together on the bed, drenched and sated, sheets a mess on the floor. Kanda almost contemplated going for a fourth round – still got some stamina left – but a look at Lavi stopped him. The redhead was resting against the headboard. The green eye was clear and somber, any trace of his usual merriment and guilt absent. His face was, for the moment, an open book.

"Is something the matter?" Lavi asked without turning. "You're staring at me."

"Why do you care so much about a stupid holiday?"

"It symbolizes one more year we've spent together as a family, and is one more day we can spend celebrating our own stubborn survival – that's what Lavi would say."

"What about you?" Kanda crawled forward, meeting the truly unnerving gaze of the one and only Bookman junior. "What do you say?"

"The same. Except by 'we' I only meant you and I."

Kanda blinked. Lavi learned forward, sealing their lips with a deep, sweet kiss. "I want you, Kanda Yu. That is all."

"And what have you got to offer me?" Kanda quipped. "Your Bookmen ideals?"

He didn't mean for it to come out like that. But what Lavi said touched a part of him that hadn't been touched in a long, long time. It rattled him, and being the resident asshole was the best way he knew how to handle it, for now.

Lavi was quiet for some time. When he finally spoke his voice was a harsh whisper. "Nothing," he breathed. "There's nothing I can offer. Things I have I can't give, and things you want I don't have. I wish it weren't so but, it's all I've got."

"I'll take it," Kanda answered, just as softly. He saw genuine surprise flood the green eye, and a smile slowly emerged, one that he had only seen a handful of times. Lavi leaned forward again. But instead of a kiss he just wrapped his arm around Kanda's shoulders, and started to pull him back down.

"Careful, Yu. I've got quite a lot of nothing. Much more than a single man can handle. You sure you want it all?"

"Tch, of course."

"Flatterer," the redhead smiled, burying his nose into the crook of his neck. They tumbled back onto the bed, the serious tone of their conversation quickly gave way to the lure of carnal pleasures. Kanda smirked.

Well then. Round four it is.

Fin

P.S. Technically the color-changing hare species is named "snowshoe hare," but the title flows better if I shorten it to just "snow." Details. Who needs those?