Title: Doorstep
Genre: Romance/Drama
Rating: T
Summary: A beautiful stranger was the last thing Kanda expected after learning he had AIDS.
Disclaimer: I own neither DGM or RENT.
Notes: Uh, yeah, a DGM/RENT crossover thingy... I copied no direct quotes from the actual musical since I haven't watched it, but I know the basic plot. Anyway, if you don't know what RENT is, don't worry; this chapter can also stand by itself.
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won't you please
darken my doorstep again?
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He had refused to leave his room for days.
Lenalee paused by the doorway, lingering hesitantly. Pressing a hand against the door, she leaned on it so the door cracked open by a bare six inches. "Kanda...?" she called softly into the darkness. She heard him stirring gently, but received no response. She hadn't expected one, but the silence still cut her sharply. Swallowing past a lump in her throat, she said firmly, "Kanda, I think you should really get out."
A light flickered on, and a disheveled-looking man sat up on his bed, running his fingers through his long dark hair. There were rings under his eyes which had a droopy, haunted expression in them. He lifted his head and yawned, revealing his throat, pale from his self-exile.
"You turning that camera on me?" his voice, husky and tired, asked.
Lenalee glanced down at the video camera in her other hand. "Maybe another day," she said at last. "That documentary can wait."
Kanda grunted and lifted himself up from the bed. He stumbled into the bathroom and Lenalee heard the sounds of water running. She leaned against a wall and played with the buttons on the camera. Slowly, she lifted it, and turned it to Kanda as he exited the bathroom. He waved it off with a slightly annoyed air, but for the most part, his eyes contained the deadened look of a man who was told he had a month to live.
Which might as well be true.
"You okay?" she asked, the camera still on.
It was a rhetorical question. Kanda shrugged, unwilling to say anything, and picked up an electric guitar sitting in the corner. She watched as he tuned it with a tortoiseshell pick.
Jazz music suddenly filled the air, and Lenalee fumbled with the camera as she reached for the phone in her pocket. Her face fell at the caller ID, but she held it up to her ear after a moment. Kanda made no indication that anything had disturbed his guitar-tuning, and continued to pluck at the strings almost restlessly.
At last, Lenalee snapped her phone shut.
"Who was it?" Kanda queried, his voice quiet. He put down his guitar pick and looked at Lenalee.
The Chinese girl shook her head. "Lavi."
"Ah," Kanda said, nodding his head. "The idiot."
"Oh, shut up, you bitch," Lenalee said, brightening in spite of herself. Kanda had reverted back to insulting, which was how he always was before. It was a bit like a green light, signaling her that it was okay to relax around the Japanese man and not treat him as if he might break any second.
"So what was he calling you for?" he asked, guitar in lap.
"Well, he and his boyfriend were setting up for this performance," Lenalee said carefully. "You know, the performance Tyki's going to have to protest Earl Noah's plan to fix up this lot where a lot of homeless people live in."
"Earl?" Kanda wrinkled his nose. "That rich bastard who used to room with Lavi and us?"
"Yeah. And according to Tyki, the sound system died on them. So they kind of need some help..."
"Hmm." Kanda's eyes were contemplative. "Tyki's the gold-eyed creep that the idiot left you for, right?"
"No need to remind me," she rolled her eyes. "Komui calls me every other day to 'console' me."
"Guess you should go," Kanda shrugged carelessly.
She nodded and tucked the camera under her arm. "Yeah, I guess..." She glanced at him, and he avoided her gaze. "Kanda..." She bit her lip. "You really should get out a bit more. I mean, you can't stay in your room forever."
Dark bangs shielded Kanda's face. "Bye, Lenalee."
She gave a final sigh and left his apartment.
Picking up the pick, Kanda brought it to his guitar again. And then he lifted his head to look at the ceiling.
"Alma..."
Kanda had always been gay. It never particularly bothered him, especially since he had his long-time boyfriend Alma with him. From when they were children, Alma knew how to cheer Kanda up, how to crack a smile or a laugh out of the sullen boy he had been. Alma was the one who always supported Kanda in becoming a songwriter, and had even helped him with some lyrics on the occasion. Alma had always been the first, and Kanda thought he would be the only one to breech his stoic personality.
Until Alma committed suicide, but not before telling Kanda that he was HIV-positive, and that meant Kanda probably was too.
Gritting his teeth, Kanda shoved the guitar away from him to glare at it. He trusted Alma. Alma had been his best friend and his lover. And Alma just left him without another thought. Didn't bother leaving any words of comfort. Alma apparently didn't think life was worth living if AIDS would continually haunt him every single day, but he didn't think of how Kanda might feel.
He left Kanda all on his own to deal with the repercussions.
Never again would Kanda subject himself to such betrayal. He never wanted someone so close to him to leave such a deep scar on his heart again. He wouldn't have the chance to find a new boyfriend anyway; AIDS was eating at his life and he didn't know when he might be overwhelmed by it.
But while he was alive, Kanda knew he wanted to write one last song to leave his mark on the world. One song to make sure Kanda Yuu wasn't completely forgotten.
And Alma could just—stuff it like the dead, useless person he was.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Kanda lowered the guitar. It couldn't be Lenalee—she had just left, and she had the key to his apartment anyway. He got up to go open the door, and found himself face-to-face with the most exotic-looking person he had ever met in a long time.
Silver eyes blinked bemusedly as Kanda openly gaped. "Um..." the stranger said cautiously. "Hello?"
Kanda cleared his throat, and averted his gaze from snow-white hair, pale skin, and pretty silver eyes. The stranger was slender like a teenager, wearing a wool sweater, leather (leather!) pants, and knee-high boots. His short white hair gleamed in the dim light, and silver eyes matched near-perfectly with a pert nose and full red lips.
"Hello?" the stranger repeated tentatively. Kanda heard the overtones of an European accent, British more likely than not.
'Oh, god,' Kanda thought in despair.
"What?" he asked brusquely, trying to hide his attraction to the white-haired guy.
The stranger grinned awkwardly. "Um, well, do you have any matches? There's this power failure down at my apartment, and I have candles and everything, but I realized that I didn't have anything to light the candles, you know?"
"Oh," Kanda said stupidly. "Wait a sec."
He all but lunged back into his apartment and found a stray pack of matches lying on a bookshelf. Snatching it up, he hurried back to the door where the stranger was waiting patiently, hands inside his pants pockets.
"Take as many as you want," Kanda mumbled gruffly.
"Thanks," the stranger said, beaming. As he pocketed the matches, he held out his other hand. "I don't think we've really met before. I'm Allen Walker, from downstairs."
"Kanda," the Japanese responded, taking hold of the other's hand. He shivered at the skin-to-skin contact and tried to pay more attention to what Allen was saying instead of the softness of the skin of his hand, and how smooth and wonderful it felt. Something flickered in Allen's bright eyes, and the Brit seemed to inch closer until they were close enough that Kanda could count every eyelash... Their joined hands tightened together.
This had to be flirting. This just had to be. And while Kanda was enjoying the feel of Allen's skin, he had a feeling that Allen was still saying something.
"Kanda? Did you hear what I just said?"
"What?"
"You can let go of my hand."
The man in question promptly released Allen's hand as if it was on fire.
Allen just smiled as if nothing happened. "Well, it's nice meeting you, Kanda. See you around." He looked at Kanda one last time, and again silver eyes twinkled mischievously.
It was extremely difficult for Kanda to not stare at Allen's rear as he descended down the stairs, so he gave up trying and openly leered for a minute.
Then his head snapped up as he realized what had happened.
He was attracted to Allen.
"Oh, crap."
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