Disclaimer: D. Gray-Man and all related characters are property of Hoshino-sensei.
Warning: This story contains yaoi (slash, boys' love, ect). If faggotry isn't your cup of tea, please refrain from reading any farther.
Dedicated to Tess for being the sister I never had and putting up with me on a daily basis.
"Wong!" barked a rough voice. An elderly gentleman with a think beard and bushy eyebrows jumped at the sound.
"Y-yes, General Bak, sir?" he asked, nervously turning to face the man. The source of the gruff voice was a strict-looking, slim fellow of short stature with straw-colored hair.
"I've caught wind of the news that we have an injured exorcist from a foreign branch among us." He drawled.
"Ah! That we do, S-"
"What are his whereabouts?" asked Bak curtly, cutting him off.
"Room 16 of the medical wing." he whimpered. "I was just about to change his bandages!"
"That can wait," replied the general. "I wish to speak with him about these mysterious wounds of his." He turned on his heel and was off.
"Bu-but, SIR! The young man is-" By now the general was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, Wong completed his sentence, "sleeping."
Bak surveyed the bleak, gray hallway of the medical wing, his eyes scanning the numbered doors for one whose ancient, brass number read "16," getting lost many times en route. Asia Branch was quite a large place. Sometimes it was hard to believe that the whole thing was contained underground.
After much stumbling about, he cam upon the correct room. The name card on the door read "Allen Walker." Slowly, General Bak turned the doorknob and opened the peeling, wooden door. It creaked slightly, and chips of the old, white lacquer fell upon his black coat. He brushed them away and closed it softly, as not to startle the man he now realized much to his dismay, was likely to be asleep.
Quietly, he approached the high, metal cot. His breath caught in his throat. This was not a man at all. The exorcist who had nearly perished in the forest was a boy. He couldn't have been more than 15 or 16 years of age.
Bak gazed intently at the lad, mesmerized by the way the young exorcist's silvery-white hair lay across his face, the bandages, encircling his shoulder where his arm should have been, and the peculiar scar over his eye.
Slightly pink in the cheeks, General Bak reached out to swipe the bangs away from the teen's feverish forehead, but quickly withdrew his hand when Allen's eyelids fluttered open, and he sat up.
Confused as to his location, the boy looked quickly around; his eyes landing on Bak's face just inches from his own. He cocked his head slightly and blinked a few times to clear his vision. "Are you an angel?" The peculiar question fell from his lips before he had the chance to think it through. Whatever was in the IVs in his arm had blended his sleeping and waking hours into one nightmare, making him unsure if any of this was real.
Bak's blush deepened, and he looked taken aback.
"I'm dead." Allen murmured with a wistful sigh. Had he been fully aware, this prospect would have sent him into certain panic and despair, but at the moment, he felt nothing. Well, maybe something. "So, angel," he said without skipping a beat, "what's you name?"
"Bak." he half-whispered. He could feel the boy's breath on his face. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
"Well Bak, I'm Allen." A small, crooked grin painted his features, and without warning, he leaned in towards the startled general, eyes closed.
Surprised, Bak let slip a tiny gasp at the motion, but didn't pull back as Allen Walker's warm lips met his own. Instead, he kissed back with greater intensity, pulling the white-haired teen's bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it roughly, tangling his finger's into Allen's wild locks.
Allen, not to be outdone, freed his lip from the general's and slipped his tongue in the opening he'd created, using the tip to draw circles on the roof of Bak's mouth and wrapped an IV riddled arm around his neck.
Bak fought back with his own tongue in an effort to regain control, and, when that failed, decided to take this little game of one-uppance a bit further. Grinning deviously against his lips, he removed a hand from Allen's tangle mane and snaked it down the front of the boy's pants.
Allen's eyes snapped open, and he pulled his face away. Bak began to stroke him tenderly, and he moaned in response, allowing his eyes to close again. The general's movements became more demanding. Allen felt his body grow warmer, and his heart pound erratically against his ribs. Just as he thought he couldn't hold out any longer, though, Bak's motions ceased. Opening his eyes once more, he looked at the man piteously, silently imploring him not to stop.
A smirk crossed his face; General Bak Chan had a final trick up his sleeve. Roughly he yanked off the young exorcist's pants and boxers and kneeled at the foot of the bed between his legs.
Moans, louder than those before, escaped Allen's lips as Bak came down on him. Face tilted toward the ceiling, sweat beaded on the teen's forehead, trickling in rivulets across the fluid curves of his broad, muscular shoulders, and goose bumps ravaged his bared flesh as he felt Bak's mouth firmly caress him. His breath came in ragged gasps intermixed with deep moans, his fingers groping uselessly in the white, linen bed sheets.
At last, Bak felt a rush of warm liquid enter his mouth and swallowed it greedily as Allen's body writhed in pure ecstasy against him.
Wiping the back of his hand across his lips, General Bak retrieved Allen's garments from the tile floor and redressed him as he fell back, panting, against the thin, hospital-issue pillows. After double-checking the IV drips, he turned and looked into the boy's serene face. The corners of his mouth were upturned in a slight smile as he fought to stay awake.
"Rest now." said the general, ruffling Allen's hair. Bak gave him one last peck on the lips and left the room, professing as he went, "I'll be your guardian angel, Allen, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect you."