Warnings: OOCness, English is not my first language, inconsistent tenses, not beta'd
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.
A/N: i am now past the point of caring whether my fics are OOC or well written i just want to write fluffy self-indulgent fics from now on
Also. I wrote this while thinking about that yullen nodame cantabile au that i had to stop writing because it was giving me so much stress. So any references to classical music is that unfinished fic's fault.
Kanda has always ignored comments from his friends—especially Lavi and Lenalee—to be "romantic." Not even "more romantic," but just be "romantic," because according to Lavi, he didn't have an ounce of romance in his body. What would he need romance for? He and Allen have been going strong for eight years with as little romance as possible; it wasn't simply their thing. Allen would be the one more inclined to do those cheesy, romantic things because he's more, err, in touch with his feelings, but Kanda? Kanda can't even say "thank you" without grimacing.
"You need to show him that you love him, and not just through sex, thank you very much," Lavi would say. "You should do nicer things for him. For example, calling him by his actual name," Lenalee would say. Seriously, what was it with his friends trying to convince him to be romantic?
The answer to that question came two days later when Kanda was in the music section of a bookstore minding his own business. He overheard a conversation between two women and he wouldn't have listened to their doubtlessly inane conversation if he hadn't heard his name.
"Oh, and speaking of, do you remember Kanda?" said one of the women, whom Kanda called Blondie mentally after her, well, blonde hair. He didn't even know this woman. Why did she know him?
"Kanda who?" the other, Kanda whom called Brunette—again, after her hair colour—replied.
"You know, that insanely hot senior during our freshman year?" said Blondie.
Kanda didn't know about "insanely hot," but the women must have gone to the same uni as him. The sheet music sold in the campus library were a tad pricier than the ones sold outside, so students usually frequented off-campus bookstores. Kanda, as it happened, retained that habit, even if he had graduated from university years ago.
"Hmm, sounds, I dunno, Asian? Oh, I remember. Tall, long hair, extremely rude but also extremely beautiful?" answered Brunette.
Kanda rolled his eyes. He was thankful that he was partially obscured by a bookshelf or the ladies might have seen the subject of their conversation right in front of them.
"Yeah. And you remember his boyfriend, the one with the white hair who used to work at Jerry's?"
At the mention of Allen, he looked up from a sheet music of Saint-Saens's Danse Macabre and saw the ladies absentmindedly rifling through music books.
"Oh, you mean Allen?"
"Yes, Allen! Everybody's favourite barista. Besides Lenalee, of course."
The ladies shared a laugh. Allen and Lenalee worked at Jerry's Café during their time in the uni and they were quite popular, with Allen's friendliness and Lenalee's good looks turning casual customers into regulars.
"What about Allen?" Brunette asked, and then, with a horrified tone, added, "What, did they break up?"
"What? No! They're still together."
Kanda snorted. Of course they were still together. But how the two of them remained together for so long was still a mystery to him.
Blondie, now comparing sheets, continued. "Well, I was in the grocery last night, and I saw Kanda and Allen. I thought about saying to hi to Allen, but they were fighting over how many tins of cookies they were going to buy."
"Oh my God, it's Allen, all right. He still eats that much?"
"Apparently."
Kanda scowled. He lost that argument last night; Allen brought five tins of cookies home.
"Anyway, funny thing I noticed," Blondie said, "was that Allen was still calling Kanda by his surname. You remember how he hates his first name?"
"Oh, yeah! What with that incident with Lavi—Lavi Bookman, right?—it's kinda hard to forget. So what if Allen calls him Kanda? Everybody called him Kanda."
Kanda narrowed his eyes. How is it that these two strangers knew a lot of things about him and Allen?
"Well, it's just weird for me, I guess, for Allen to call his boyfriend by his surname. I mean, they're in a relationship, and even if Kanda hates being called by his first name, I figured that Allen at least would get a pass. And he still calls Allen—"
"Bean sprout?"
"Oh my God, yes. That would never be not amusing."
"And now that you've mentioned it, I don't think I've heard Kanda call Allen by his name…"
"Maybe it's just their thing? Like a pet name sort of thing? Besides, it's not like we know them well. I don't think we've ever interacted with them outside of Jerry's."
"You're right. Why am I even talking about this?"
"Stop worrying about them and worry about your jury!"
Kanda tuned the conversation out. These virtual strangers had the gall to speculate about his relationship with Allen when Kanda didn't even know that they existed and Allen most likely graduated ahead of them. It feels… revolting to be talked about by two strangers. Was this how celebrities felt?
Kanda took Danse Macabre to the register and paid. Why do strangers feel the need to talk about him and Allen? Was this what Lenalee meant by trying to be romantic—by calling the bean sprout by his actual name?
Kanda snorted. The very thought was laughable, but Kanda Yuu didn't laugh.
Kanda—grudgingly BaKanda sometimes—and Bean Sprout were just fine. They don't need to call each other by their first names to be "romantic." That's what makes them a couple, this unique dynamic of theirs.
As Kanda exited the bookstore, all thought about names and addresses went out of his mind.
Or so he thought. Because as much as he hated it, a seed had been planted in his brain and it's, pun unintended, sprouting, err, less desirable thoughts in his head.
There were only three people in the world who called him by his first name, and none of these people received his permission to be called by such: his foster father, that annoying rabbit who deluded himself to be Kanda's best friend, and Alma, God rest his soul. Alma was his only friend, and he died in a fire at the orphanage they grew up in. They never said it, but he was sure that they were both in love with each other, but Alma died before he and Kanda could make something out of their burgeoning feelings.
He loved Alma and he mourned him for five long years, and then Allen came. Allen Walker came and disrupted whatever miserable normal he had, and before Kanda knew it, he fell in love with him.
That was eight years ago. Eight years of BaKanda and Bean Sprout, and not once did Allen express the desire to call him by his first name—and not that he wanted him to. He could count with one hand the number of times he called the sprout by his first name, and that didn't include slips of tongue. Allen, on the other hand, never called Kanda by his first name, not when they were fighting, not when he's teasing him, not when they were in bed. He never called Kanda Yuu, and now that he thought about it, Kanda was a bit bothered. And he's not the type to be bothered by such things, and that's what makes him all the more bothered.
Was there a reason why Allen never called him by his first name? Kanda supposed that if Allen wanted, he could let him call him Yuu, because it's Allen and Allen gets a pass. He'd be really uncomfortable with it, but he'll be the first person Kanda will grant the privilege to call him Yuu. That should pass as romantic, right? Lenalee would probably agree.
Curse those girls and their gossiping. Now Kanda can't get the thought out of his head.
Some days later on a rainy evening, Kanda was going home from work. The rain was getting stronger by each minute so Kanda hurried, but when he passed by a bakeshop display that showcased tantalising delicacies, he knew that he just had to get a cake home even if there was no special occasion. Take that, Lavi and Lenalee; Kanda can do nice things for his significant other too.
Kanda saw the display through sleets of rain, the neon lights surrounding it a blurry smudge in his vision. Water splashed on his shoes and wetted his trouser's cuffs. A girl running past him—the kid's mother was warning her not to run on a slippery ground—stepped on a puddle, wetting Kanda's already soaked trousers further. But still, he trudged on to that neon-backed display, because he knew how much Allen would appreciate a whole cake.
Okay. Maybe there was no special occasion, but this niggling thought that burrowed itself in Kanda's brain was spreading and growing into something bigger, so maybe, just maybe, the cake will butter Allen up in preparation for a conversation that Kanda wasn't sure he'll initiate.
He pushed the door open and a bell chimed. Inside, sweet and savoury aromas mingled, and he left his dripping umbrella in the rack by the door. The decorations would surely attract people who often post photos on Insta-whatever. It was quaint, cosy, and reminiscent of the rabbit hole Alice fell into, where everything was suspended and unmoving in the air.
Kanda gravitated towards the patisserie section and let his eyes linger on the selection. Although he had no love for sweets, he knew that the bean sprout had unending love for each and every one of them, so Kanda had a hard time choosing which pastries to get home.
In the end, he chose a cherry tart. Unlike the other pastries in the shop, it didn't have decorations that could get ruined by transport; it was a nine-inch circle topped with levelled cherries—no rising whipped cream or intricate garnish that would bump around the box as he walked.
Kanda also bought several breads, and when his purchases were rung up, he retrieved his umbrella and walked back home.
Kanda deposited the umbrella on the rack and placed his keys on the bowl. He toed his shoes off (now ruined, no thanks to the rain which later became an almost-storm) and dropped his purchases on the kitchen table.
"Oh, you're home!" Allen said, emerging from the bedroom. "Is it raining hard outside?"
Allen removed Kanda's coat and handed him a towel. Kanda towelled off and replied, "The worse was just beginning when I got in the building. Here," he said, pointing to the brown bags on the table, "eat some if you'd like."
Well. Okay. Maybe he can put this unnecessary conversation off for another day. Because it wasn't important, right?
Allen opened the bags and smiled upon seeing the contents. "Bread! You bought bread! And different kinds too! Strudels, Danishes, dinner rolls, muff—Is this a cherry tart?"
Kanda grunted in assent and took his coat from Allen. "Saw it on the display. Thought you might like it." Then he went to the bathroom where he put his coat and the towel in the laundry bin because he didn't want Allen to hear just how fast his heart was thumping.
When he returned to the kitchen, Allen was shoving a pork floss bun in his mouth. He said something, though Kanda didn't understand him.
"What?" Kanda said. "Stop talking with food in your mouth."
Allen swallowed. "Where did you buy these? And why did you buy a cherry tart? I'm probably going to eat it all by myself."
Kanda grabbed a dinner roll. "It looked plain enough. The other cakes seemed hard to transport, especially in this rain."
"Yeah," Allen said, taking another bite, "but why did you buy these? Is there anything I'm missing?"
It was a nice opening to a conversation that Kanda didn't need to have, and he should take it. It would make things more awkward should he ever bring the topic up some time later. Not that he would want to, though; he didn't even want to talk about it right now.
What he did instead was give Allen a quick kiss on the lips. "Eat the tart, bean sprout. I'm gonna take a shower."
Allen scowled at Kanda's retreating back. "I'm not leaving anything for you!"
Maybe it was a coward's way out, but Kanda apparently needed quite a lot of time to steel himself for a conversation he shouldn't have even thought of having in the first place. Sure he could just ignore that persistent thought in his mind, but he hasn't gotten a proper sleep since overhearing those two ladies some days ago.
So when Allen turned his bedside lamp off, laid his head on Kanda's chest, and pulled the covers up to his chin, Kanda knew that it was now or never. Because if he kept putting this off, chances are Allen's gonna notice the tiny signs of Kanda's uneasiness, and with Kanda's reticence, what should have been a conversation might turn into a fight.
"Hey," Kanda said as he absentmindedly ran his fingers through Allen's hair.
Okay. This was it.
"Hmm?" was Allen's sleepy reply.
"I was just thinking—"
Allen snorted. "Careful, you might hurt yourself there."
Kanda pinched his arm, making Allen yelp. "I was trying to say something."
Allen rubbed the spot that Kanda pinched. "Which was?"
"Just… Uh… you know…"
"Before I turn into an old man, please."
"You're already an old man. You have old man hair."
"We both know why my hair—Wait, before we get sidetracked, what were you trying to say anyway?"
"Whose fault was it that I got interrupted?"
Allen sat up, turned his bedside lamp on, and faced Kanda. "Is this going to be a Talk with a capital T?"
Kanda sat up too and turned his head away. "It doesn't have to be."
From his peripheral vision, Kanda could see Allen studying him, and after a few moments of silence, Allen cupped Kanda's face, forcing him to look at him. Kanda was startled with how worried Allen looked.
"Darling, what's wrong?" Allen asked, his voice tinged with the barest hint of alarm. "The pastries earlier, they were meant to ease me into this conversation, no? Only you didn't."
Kanda leaned into the touch instinctively. "Well I'm talking to you now. But there's nothing wrong. It's just…"
Allen stroked Kanda's cheek with his thumb. Kanda was never one for starting talks, much less Talks with a capital T, so whatever it was he was trying to get out, it was important enough that he initiated the Talk.
"It's just what?" Allen prompted.
Kanda wasn't nervous, but this… conversation is making him unsettled, so he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself down, much like what he does when meditating.
"The other day," he began, "I was in the bookstore near the uni. The one near the deli. And I overheard these two women. Apparently they were regulars at Jerry's and you know them."
"I do?" Allen asked, transferring his hands from Kanda's face to Kanda's hands. "Who were they?"
"I didn't catch their name, but one was blonde and the other was a brunette."
"We have loads of blonde and brunette regulars."
"I know. It doesn't matter. They were gossiping about us."
Allen snickered. "We're gossip material now?"
"Everyone is a gossip material to certain people. Anyway, the blonde one said that she saw us in the grocery last week. She said that… That she…"
Unable to get the words out, Kanda groaned, so Allen rubbed circles onto the back of Kanda's hands to soothe him, saying, "We can talk about this on another time."
"No," Kanda said, looking at Allen. "Better to get this out of the way sooner."
"Okay," Allen replied with a smile. "And then? What did the blonde say?"
"That she… finds it weird that you never call me by my first name."
Allen spluttered, and then laughed. "Why would I? You hate being called by your first name."
"I know. She said that it's weird because my "boyfriend" calls me by my surname," said Kanda, saying the word 'boyfriend' as if it tasted like spoiled food.
Allen chuckled. "And? Why would such conversation bother you?"
Kanda sighed. "Because she's right." Then looked away from Allen and added in a small voice, "You never called me by my first name. Never even tried to."
"Huh? What? Why would I? Do you want me to?"
"No! Fuck no! It's just that… It got me to wondering why you never did."
Allen took a moment to stare at Kanda's flushed face. For Kanda, this was surely a Talk, and it must have taken every ounce of willpower he had to even initiate it. The pastries earlier were a brave but ultimately failed attempt to start the conversation, and now that they were having it, Allen will see it through to the end.
"Darling, look at me," Allen said, coaxing Kanda with a gentle squeeze to his hands.
Kanda did, and even with the wan light of the bedside lamp, the faint blush on his cheeks was visible.
Allen continued, "You don't want me to call you by your first name, but the fact that I don't want to nor even tried to bothers you?"
Kanda nodded.
"Why would it bother you? You don't normally care for such things."
"You're right I don't, but if you want to… I don't want you to, but you're allowed to, is what I'm trying to say."
"Hold up," Allen said, knitting his brows. "Did you just give me permission to call you by your first name?"
Kanda turned his head away again and Allen said, "Stop that, darling," so he looked at Allen straight in the eye, scowling but still with a faint blush across his cheeks.
"I said that I wouldn't want you to, but if you want to—"
"I don't want to, okay? I'll keep on calling you BaKanda. I'm fine with that. Why are you giving me permission, anyway?"
Kanda groaned. "I'm trying to do something nice for you, because Lavi and Lenalee are giving me enough shit as it is."
Allen narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "So you're doing this not out of your own volition but because our friends egged you on?"
"What—No—Jesus Christ. You're…" Kanda said, and then said softly it was almost a whisper, "You're… special, okay?"
The faint blush on Kanda's cheeks transformed into an angry red, and Allen was torn between laughing and cooing.
"That's a nice gesture," Allen said, "and I appreciate it, I really do, because how many people in this world are allowed to call you by your first name?"
"Just you," was Kanda's reply, face still burning.
"Exactly. But baby," said Allen, straddling Kanda and framing his face as he looked directly into his eyes, "I've called you by your surname for the past eight years. I knew you as Kanda, and that's what I'll call you. It hardly ever matters now, does it?"
Kanda, whose face colour was now back to normal, nodded. He placed his hands on Allen's hips and said, "I just wanted to let you know." It wasn't even because of Lenalee's suggestion that Kanda did this—romantic gesture or not, Allen was the most important thing for Kanda, and that should at least warrant him the privilege of calling him Yuu.
"And now I do. Thank you," Allen said, wrapping his arms around Kanda's neck and pulling him in for a brief but heated kiss. "But just because I can doesn't mean I would. You see…" Allen trailed off, chuckling.
"What is it? You're the one hesitating now," Kanda said.
Allen laughed softly and made himself more comfortable on Kanda's lap. "I don't know, but I've always felt like…" Allen's eyes darted from Kanda's face to the various objects in their room before settling downwards, focusing on nothing. And when he spoke, his voice was soft like a whisper, even shy, very much the imitation of Kanda's apprehensiveness earlier. "It's like Yuu belongs to a different time," Allen said, and then looked at Kanda's eyes, "to a different person."
At the mention of that different person, Kanda's throat tightened. Was this why Allen never called him by his first name? Because someone in Kanda's past already claimed that right?
"But it doesn't matter now," Allen said, his voice cracking. There were no tears in his eyes—yet—but the smile he was giving Kanda was watery. The thumbs caressing Kanda's cheeks, however, were as gentle as ever, and Kanda savoured every touch.
"Because Kanda…" Allen continued. His eyes glistened with tears but Kanda couldn't raise a hand to wipe them, not when Allen's eyes pinned him on the spot. "Kanda belongs to me, here in the present and the future."
Kanda's breath hitched. It was true—Yuu died in that orphanage fire with Alma. Who he was then wasn't who he was now, and the person here in this bedroom with Allen wasn't Yuu or even Kanda Yuu—it was just Kanda, Allen's Kanda.
And it was enough, and the realisation washed over Kanda like a warm light on a peaceful morning, so he rested his forehead against Allen's and allowed himself a small smile. He pulled him closer, removing his hands from Allen's hips to encircle his waist.
"You're just Kanda to me," Allen said, "my BaKanda."
Kanda smirked. "And you're my bean sprout."
Allen frowned, leaning back so that their foreheads weren't touching anymore. "And I thought all this talk about first names will make you stop calling me that."
"Why? That's your name, isn't it? First name, Bean, last name, Sprout."
Allen's scowl deepened. "Sure I don't want to call you by your first name, but how about you call me by my first name more often?"
Kanda snorted. "Dream on, bean sprout," he said, and then flipped their positions so that Allen was lying on the bed and Kanda loomed over him. "Sleep."
Allen grumbled (which sounded a lot like a disparaging comment about "BaKanda"), and Kanda reached past him to turn the light off. Kanda lay beside him, turned the lights off, pulled the covers up to their chins, and Allen laid his head on Kanda's chest, closed his eyes, and finally drifted to sleep.
Contrary to what people around them think, "bean sprout" wasn't Kanda's pet name for his significant other. Sure, it started out as an insult, but as they grew closer, that insult morphed into something that was strictly Kanda and Allen's. It can be an insult, a term of endearment, or sometimes, something even more intimate than calling Allen by his first name, because it was a name that Kanda gave him, Kanda's special way of calling him, even if Allen hated it. Lavi sometimes called them his B Boys—Bean Sprout and BaKanda—and it was starting to grow on him.
He'll always be Kanda—or BaKanda—to Allen, and Allen will always be Bean Sprout to him.
Allen insisted to see this bakery where Kanda bought the cherry tart last night, so when morning came, Kanda took him there, and Allen roamed the place with the wonder of only those who loved to eat possessed, unlike Kanda. His eyes took in the fairy tale-esque ambiance of the place, and he was sending photos of it to Lenalee minutes later.
Kanda let Allen roam the place, and as he was reading reviews of fine dining restaurants on his phone, Kanda thought that that should make Lenalee and Lavi quiet, at least for a short while. Let it be known that Kanda, who was not the most romantic partner someone could have, was still capable of doing romantic things. Allen usually preferred eat-all-you-can buffets, but it wouldn't hurt to eat something fancy once in a while.
Besides, the bean sprout deserved it. He deserved all the nice things in the world.
When Kanda looked up from his phone, Allen already had three overflowing trays of bread and was quickly filling up his fourth one, so before they could get any more odd stares, Kanda steered him to the counter by the elbow and paid for their purchases. They exited the bakery with two full bags of bread and pastries each, with Allen humming Beethoven's Ode to Joy.
"That was a really nice place there," Allen said. "How did you find it?"
"Dunno," Kanda replied. "I was just walking home last night. I think it only opened this week."
They walked in companionable bickering on the way home, and once the food has been laid out on the table and the rest of their purchases have been stored, Allen said, "Kanda."
Kanda, who had been making tea on the counter, looked over his shoulder and said, "What?"
Allen shook his head and answered with a smile."Nothing. I just like saying your name."
Names, surnames, it didn't matter what they called each other, because it was always different when Allen was the one saying his name. It sounded sweeter, more special, like honeyed syllables slowly dripping out of his tongue that warmed Kanda's core.
Not when they're fighting, of course.
Kanda left his tea to steep on the counter and walked to where Allen stood, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "I like it when you say my name too… Allen."
Allen's reply was a blinding grin.
A/N: askfjlijoahwo i am so weak when it comes to pet names i should have used them liberally
also i wrote this with one particular scene in mind and had to build around that so you can see how this fic lacks structure hahahaha
