Dear me. Well, here's another chapter. Didn't think I'd finish this thing in the middle of finals, but somehow I did. And this was supposed to be out a month ago, but I had some computer issues and I lost all of the new chapter I had written. So... well. I'm not quite as satisfied with the rewrite as I was with the original, so tell me if there's any parts that feel awkward or don't make sense for the characters and such.
So for all those who are still with me... Enjoy!
No Backing Out Once Inside - 10
Allen knows something is off, different. It's in the way he closes his eyes and lets his mind sink into hedonism, in the way he moans uninhibitedly and his hands flex and reach as if searching for something. Where before he used to lock his mind away and immerse himself in the physical, in the hands and the warmth and the friction of damp skin against damp skin, now he lets his mind actively participate in the process, imagining that the hair he pulls is darker and longer, and the skin he licks is a touch paler. His regular clients notice, drawing away with a puzzled narrowing of their eyes, but they don't make mention of it. This is not a place for heart-to-hearts; it is a place of catharsis of the filthiest kind.
"You must be crazy to enjoy it this much," Lenalee often says, but that's not quite right. It's not that he enjoys it, per se, but that he understands his role and knows how critical it is. He throws himself headlong into his job because he sees how much he is needed. He sees the broken marriages and the loneliness, the stress of the business world and the isolation of money and prestige, the insecurity behind the arrogant faces and the desolation behind the smirking, lustful faces. They come to him in a vain attempt to fill a certain void in their lives, and Allen sees their need and wants to help.
Allen is not a saint, far from it, and they are not either, but their souls flicker and writhe in front of him, screaming and crying, the proverbial wailing and gnashing of teeth, and with his body he is able to ease their pain a little. But even so they beg and plead with him to make it stop, to help them, to cleanse them. They ask it of him, the only one who can see them in their revolting, pitiful entirety. But that is something that no matter how hard he tries, and God, he's tried, nearly killed himself trying… he can't. He cannot save them, and he knows it isn't his fault, but the guilt shreds his insides anyway. And that is why he cannot, will not, let himself get caught up in his clients, why he must lock their names and faces away in a little box in the corner of his mind and forget about it during the daylight hours. He feels insanity bubbling under the lid and just hopes it won't pop.
It has been years upon years since he's been mentally engaged while attending his clients, and though on the one hand, it is not with them that he's engaged, he's certainly plunging into it with renewed vigor. He doesn't know how long it will last, however, since he will eventually have to get over this person. Allen may be optimistic, but he is not naïve. He has no illusions of ever meeting Kanda again.
0o0
Kanda is the most uncooperative human being that ever existed, Lavi decides as he sulks and glares at the window. Lavi has begged, whined, prodded, sung, chirped and made every kind of noise imaginable to get Kanda to talk to him —particularly about what happened in the alleyway—but Kanda refuses to even give him the time of day with a snotty upturn of his nose or a heated glare, which, to add insult to injury, earns Kanda at least two points, if not three. So, Kanda won't talk to him, Lavi's shoulder is still tender and painful, he can't stop thinking in French, and even worse, they weren't able to find anything definitive on the Noahs. Lavi is in a very, very bad mood, and he looks around the train cabin in hopes of finding something he can throw at Kanda and maybe set him off. It'd even the score. Maybe. Depends on what Lavi throws.
Kanda's reflection ghosts over the scenery flitting by them, not quite sulky like Lavi but definitely pissy and completely closed off. But he's much calmer now, the fire in his eyes tapered down to glowing embers, though Lavi can still feel the barest brush of that scalding energy swirling under Kanda's skin. At least that infernal clicking of his sword is gone. To be honest, Lavi had expected to have a three-inch incision right below his Adam's apple now, but after their little tussle in the alleyway, Kanda has been mum on the matter, and more importantly, has not threatened Lavi's life. Which means that he does not see Lavi as the perpetrator of that little incident but instead sees himself as the one to blame. Regretfully, hell will freeze over before Kanda will let Lavi into what had prompted him to lose control like that.
Oh, but what a rewarding loss of control it had been. Lavi closes his eyes and remembers the feel of Kanda's mouth, aggressive as usual but with a sense of urgency and need that had been exhilarating. Lavi slits his eyes open, slouching in his seat and stretching his legs out before him to make himself more comfortable as he watches Kanda and lets his memory play out in perfect detail those few moments.
After a few moments, Kanda turns his head as if realizing the scrutiny—Oh, he finally responds to that, does he? Lavi thinks huffily, and proceeds to throw his sweaty bandana at Kanda.
The disgust on Kanda's face as he flicks it to the side is worth two points, at least.
0o0
Kanda hates the Monday market, particularly when he is running late and finds himself stifled by the morning crowd. On most days he is ahead of them, but last night had found them busy with another job and so today had witnessed a bit of a later start than usual for them. Or for him, at least. Lavi is still sleeping, as always. Kanda can't remember the last time Lavi got up at a reasonable time. The excuse, of course, is that he stays up until late poring over records and evidence, but Kanda thinks that's a bullshit excuse, since he could get up early and go to sleep early just the same. Lavi usually just says that Kanda doesn't know how to appreciate the night life, to which Kanda always replies that Lavi doesn't know how to appreciate the absence of Mugen in his face.
He hefts the bag in his hands into a more secure position, and thinks about tonight's dinner. He has their daily supply of bread and has the meat for tonight's dinner, and wonders what else he should get. He dodges through the amicable chatter of merchants and buyers, the air ripe with the sweet smell of fruits and the heavy odor of meat and from the docks, the unmistakable tang of fish.
Apples, he decides, as he walks by a crateful. He reaches out to grab one, bypassing a hand hovering in useless deliberation over which one to pick.
"Hey!" the person says, and Kanda glances up, ready to lash out with a Not my fault you're so slow. His mouth is open, tongue poised, when he catches sight of chalk-white hair framing smooth skin. He freezes, and his brain decides to choose that exact moment to take a vacation.
He stares, completely boggled, at Allen, who is standing right in front of him with a surprised, nearly pleased expression on his face. Kanda keeps on staring for a couple seconds that turn into several, and just when it's becoming absolutely pathetic how he can't seem to come up with anything to say or even move, Allen bursts out laughing. Presumably at Kanda's face, but Kanda's not willing to put money on that.
He remains frozen, but his brain supplies awe at how simple Allen's laugh is. Simple and uninhibited, and it crinkles his eyes into mere slits through which he can only barely see a glint of silver. Kanda swears that when his brain gives him motor function back he will kick this kid's ass for laughing at him.
"You don't have to look that surprised," Allen finally breathes, still chuckling as he wipes the corner of his eye and smiles good-naturedly, "Though I didn't think I'd ever meet you again, much less here of all places."
Kanda's brain graciously allows him to say, "…What are you doing here?"
Allen frowns slightly, "We're not nuns, you know," he pauses as he realizes what he's said and hurries to add, "I mean, of course you know, but what I meant is that we don't live cloistered away. We can go out if we want to."
Nuns? Cloisters? He uses a lot of religious imagery for a whore, Kanda thinks absently. Lavi would probably say it means the kid has some redemption issues. Kanda wouldn't know; he's not the one who's studied psychology, after all.
"Anyway, I always come here in the mornings to get food and stuff for the others," Allen continues happily, "Oh, what do you have there, is that for stew? You know, what'd go great with that isn't green apples, you should get red apples. Those are great this time of the year."
Kanda tunes out the kid's prattle fairly quickly, while his brain deliberates whether it will allow him to do something more than gape like a fucking idiot. At least his mouth is closed. Kanda's eyes travel from the slim, gloved tips of Allen's hands up a long-sleeved black coat, hood drawn over his head, most likely to ward off unnecessary attention due to his hair. Kanda realizes that this is not the first time he's seen this particular hood, and upon consideration can recall seeing it at the market before, usually passing it on his way back home. It is ironic that they had been frequenting the same place for so long without noticing. His eyes linger on the bold red pattern ingrained on his face, and he does wonder, does it have any meaning, the way his does? Under the coat he can see a vest fitted tightly around a chest that Kanda knows from firsthand experience is deceptively slim-looking. His eyes flicker down, past long, slim legs that he's spent countless nights now remembering the feel of, wrapped around his hips. He shifts his weight uncomfortably to his other foot and feels the restlessness he'd just barely begun getting under control rise again.
This is what he does not understand. Kanda is, despite all contrary appearances, human. He's felt lust before—Lavi has been on the receiving end of that more times than Kanda cares to admit. But Allen… Allen is completely different from Lavi. Lavi, despite all his jibes and the idiocy, is relatively passive and unobtrusive. He has partnered with Kanda and become his foil, countering the acid stares and bit out remarks with nary a blink. He just is, sits there patiently, figuring Kanda out little by little through his silent observations, without the need to poke and rile Kanda (to a certain extent, at least). He has melded into the background of Kanda's life and become an everyday phenomenon, never prying too deep, never pushing too far, just accepting Kanda as he is and molding to him. And that is why Lavi has been able to get to points previously unexplored by another other human being. Lavi just is.
Allen just. Isn't.
He does not let Kanda be in peace, he questions and challenges and pries and asks, even with his silence, and he clearly feels entitled to doing it without a shred of tact. Kanda would love to write it all off as lust, something that he can, through sheer will power, tame. But it hasn't been just lust—Kanda remembers the anger he felt when he thought his bracelet was stolen, remembers the stomach-gnawing guilt after he'd hurt him, the flare of irritation at every other word the boy says, the fascination he's been accosted with, and it is hard for him to forget all those emotions through sheer will power. Who is this Allen Walker, to affect Kanda so? And that is the main difference between Lavi and Allen. While Kanda can reluctantly admit that he does in fact have something resembling concern for Lavi, maybe even affection, he inspires nothing like this bizarre barrage of emotions that he can't pinpoint, can't gather and quantify, but still feels. These past days have been filled with a torrent of frustration at his inability to push Allen out of his mind. When he succeeds in keeping his thoughts from straying, it is his dreams that stray instead, to the point that he has given insomnia serious consideration. It's like water simmering in a pot, and just when Kanda had thought that he'd turned the heat down by controlling his thoughts, offering the whole affair a chance to cool in due time, Allen runs into him, and strikes the match again. He fucking hates serendipity.
At that point, he tries to walk away. A part of his brain (he assumes. Nothing else should be involved in his decision-making, after all) snarls You just found him. You want him. Are you going to just walk away? But Kanda's nothing if not stubborn, and people? He has no need for them.
Apparently though, Allen is just as fucking clueless and unaware of social cues as Kanda is stubborn. When people walk away, especially without saying anything, that's usually a sign to leave them alone, not to…
"Are you following me?"
Allen opens his mouth with a devious glint in his eyes, then appears to think better of whatever offhand comment he was about to make and shrugs, "I have some free time, and nothing else to do."
"Well, go find someone else whore yourself out to," Kanda grits his teeth.
Allen looks mildly put-upon for a moment, "Hey, if this is about the bracelet thing, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to make you mad."
Kanda snorts and tries to sidestep him, and that seems to be enough for Allen to catch onto the fact that Kanda is composed of maybe not as much bite as his bark indicates.
"Do you always have a stick up your ass?" he says overtly sweet and maybe just a touch mocking. It's a fine line, really.
"Do you always like having one up yours?" Kanda bites back.
Allen's face changes lightning-quick, thunderous clouds darkening it as he suddenly steps in front of Kanda.
"You don't fool me," he says dangerously, leaning close, and even though Allen is so much shorter than him, and he seems so inoffensive and naïve, there is something lurking in his eyes that speaks of mettle stronger than the average person's. Kanda briefly wonders where it came from. They stand in the middle of a winding little alleyway, the kind favored by European cities: narrow and with the walls looming above them, leaving only bits of the sky to peek from between opened shutters and clothesline hanging heavy with wet clothes.
"You were supposed to be just a customer," Allen begins, hand reaching tentatively to fist Kanda's collar. His fingers may be hesitant, but his words are careful and deliberate and his eyes rise to meet Kanda's with a spark of steel, "One night and then gone. But you keep coming back. You keep appearing over and over," Allen tugs briefly on Kanda's collar, and Kanda's hand rises automatically to grab his wrist in warning. Allen ignores it and presses on, silver eyes boring into Kanda's as he says, "It's a sign."
"It's coincidence," Kanda corrects.
"Right, you'd be one of those types," Allen sighs softly, but, devious little twit, as opposed to that being a sign of relenting, he instead pushes himself a little closer to Kanda, enough for the cold air between them to be chased away and leave only a strip of skin-hot air between them, "Think what you will. It's a sign. I didn't think I'd see you again and I'm…" his voice trails off for a moment before he seems to regain his courage and finishes with, "I'm not going to let you go just like that."
Kanda growls, but before he can open his mouth to tell this kid to shut the fuck up and leave him the hell alone and maybe unsheathe Mugen for added effect, Allen repeats, "You don't fool me. You want me, just as much as I want you."
Kanda doesn't know where he gets the gall to say something like that. To assume something like that. Because there's no way he knows. No way that it could possibly show. But unfortunately, that seems to be the bottom line. Allen kisses him, sudden and rough, pressing him against the uneven stone wall behind him, and Kanda… Kanda lets him. Allen is good. Allen knows what he's doing. Kanda can't really say anything for himself, but he considers Lavi to be a good authority on the subject, and Lavi generally approves of Kanda. And yet, despite the fact that they're both experienced – hell, that it's not even the first time they've done this— it's still foreign, and makes Kanda's stomach knot up for some strange reason. In the middle of the day, with no urgency, no reason, no money having passed hands between them, Kanda suddenly doesn't know what to do. Does he shove Allen off him and denounce this whole thing, like he should? Or does he put his hand on his waist? Does he pull him closer? (Oh, how he wants to do that, thrust his hips up just a bit, feel his tongue suckle the sensitive skin of his neck…)
"Come tomorrow night," Allen whispers, running his tongue along Kanda's lower lip, "I'll save a slot just for you."
"I'm not going back to that place."
"If you're afraid," Allen begins, and at Kanda's glare corrects himself, "Okay, if you're concerned about Lenalee and Ray, don't worry. They're really nice people, they'll forgive you if you just apologize and play nice, it's— Oh. I see where the problem is."
"I'm not going to pay money to have sex," Kanda says. That's only one step above being paid to have sex. Kanda may not have much moral ground to stand on, what with killing people without the slightest consternation and working for an organization that oftentimes works outside of the boundaries of the law. But he has his pride, and no matter how enticing this Allen Walker may be, Kanda is not giving that up.
"Consider it on the house," Allen says, sidling up to Kanda and pressing his body in one long, hot line against his, "to make up for the whole mishap with the bracelet. Besides," he adds, wriggling his hips against Kanda's and making Kanda suck in a sharp breath, "you really should take advantage of this offer, you know. I'm worth way more than what your friend Lavi paid to buy Miranda."
He reaches up to nip Kanda's lip, but Kanda goes suddenly still.
"What?"
"What what? You don't believe me?" Allen frowns, "I'm pretty good, you know. I'm worth a lot of—"
"Not that, you moron," Kanda snaps, "Lavi bought her?"
Allen blinks, letting go of Kanda and sliding back down from the tips of his toes, "Yeah, he didn't tell you?"
Kanda doesn't respond, instead shoving Allen away and turning heel to stalk furiously out of the alley.
Finally, so AllenxKanda, right? Right? I know you guys were waiting for that little hint. But there's more, I promise. Finally moving this thing along. For those of you still reading this, thanks, I really appreciate your stamina! And I'm sorry I'm such a slow writer. :/