Chapter Twelve: Inside Out
"Do you want me to walk you to the infirmary?" the eyepatched Bookman asked quietly. Allen just shook his head, rose, and walked across the sea of paperwork and fabric on the floor to the door. Timcampy fluttered up from behind one of the hideous figurines littering Lavi's desk and settled himself on top of Allen's snowy white hair. The cursed exorcist paused just after pushing the door open and touched his pocket with one hand. There was a soft bulge there, but before Lavi's curiosity could get the better of him and he could ask, Allen pulled a swatch of scarlet silk from the pocket and tossed it to land on the bed beside the hammer-wielder.
"I think these are yours," was all the younger exorcist said before leaving. The door swung shut behind him and Lavi scooped up the fabric interestedly. The next moment, the redhead was laughing, holding his own missing boxers at arm's length.
Allen trailed through the halls behind Timcampy, who had flapped off of his head in order to lead him back to the main halls. They passed again through the enormous room dominated by the fireplace and the exorcist's pale grey eyes lingered on the runes carved there. One of them in particular had featured in his dream and he shivered at the memory of his visions, at the thought of Kanda abused and broken. Its illusion of continuity triggered a sort of sick nausea and he had to wrench his eyes away from the two conjoined bars to keep himself from emptying his stomach right there on the flagstone floor. The nausea subsided as he stepped into the narrow passage he had stumbled into—it seemed so long ago—and staggered past the torn webs toward the hall on the far side.
The familiar black-and-white tiled corridors were comforting as Allen began his descent down the staircases to the infirmary. Its repetitive monotony was soothing and his disordered thoughts began to subside, leaving behind a numb exhaustion. He was bone-weary after his nap and the resulting tumult of sentiment, which was why he didn't even flinch when Komui swooped down on him in the infirmary with a gleaming silver machine already strapped to his arm.
At Komui's bidding, the pale teen lay down on one of the exam tables and the Chief Scientist began attaching electrodes to his head in seemingly random patterns.
"Is this really necessary?" Allen asked the white-coated man doubtfully. He had too much experience with Komui's crazy experiments to not feel at least a little trepidation whenever Komui started working, but the older man just patted him firmly on the shoulder and continued sticking gummed, wired patches to his scalp.
"No, it's not really necessary, but it won't hurt you and I really did want to try out my new electrodes. I designed them so I didn't have to shave off the hair before applying them. But I also want to talk to you while I'm doing this. It helps me get better data on your brain activity." There was an odd gleam in the scientists eyes that made Allen hesitate.
"I think that I just need to rest, Komui-san. Maybe we could do this later?" So that I have time to escape, he added mentally. Komui looked disappointed, but he agreed, taking in the wan face and dark-circled eyes of the young man who had become one of his favorite exorcists. While the scientist truly wanted to do nothing other than grill him mercilessly about his hallucinations—and they must have been impressive if even Lavi had felt the need to breach another's privacy to report them—the poor boy really looked as though he might just drop over right there on the exam table. It was unfortunately true in this case that deep sleep would probably be the best thing for the young exorcist, much as he would have enjoyed testing his latest inventions on a helpless vict—patient, he reminded himself firmly, patient. It didn't stop him from pulling the electrodes off with more force than was strictly necessary, however. Allen was sure that he lost some skin and hair to the sudden departure of the gummy patches. Still sulking, Komui administered a mild sedative to help the pale teen achieve dreamless sleep, then departed.
Allen settled back on the table, more of a bed now that Komui had supplied him with a pillow and a pair of blankets and that the battery of operating lamps had been moved from directly over his head, and allowed his mind to drift. He had almost slipped into a light doze when the door of the infirmary room slammed open with enough force to rattle the equipment and make the solid oak of the door rebound from the wall. A livid Kanda stormed in, his eyes nearly glowing with rage, and Allen was suddenly very much awake. Uh, oh, whispered the little voice in Allen's mind.
"You got me recalled from a mission," the black-haired exorcist hissed, his blue eyes seething with fury. Allen gulped and pulled the blankets up to his chin protectively.
"I'm sick," he offered, hoping to appease the Japanese sword-wielder's legendary temper. No such luck. Kanda simply grabbed the front of Allen's uniform and hauled him into a seated position on the bed, leaning in close enough to snarl in Allen's face: "I could have gone alone; you would only slow me down anyway. And if Komui insisted on sending some other useless baggage with me, there must be half-a-dozen other exorcists sitting around cooling their heels in this place. Any one of them could go in your place. And now two of them have taken my mission. And you know what else? I heard that you specifically asked that I not be allowed to go, Bean Sprout."
The Japanese man's voice had lowered to a furious growl by the end of his complaint. He looked like he might start spitting nails at any moment if the way his hands kept twitching toward Mugen's hilt was any indication. Allen silently offered up a prayer that his plea to Komui hadn't saved one exorcist's life at the cost of another's. It hadn't been in his plans today to get hacked into little pieces by a socially-stunted madman. Another growl cut off his introspection and the pale teen realized that he had inadvertently ignored the black-haired man snarling in his face. It just happens so often…Allen sighed mentally.
The cursed exorcist slumped down into his pillows and picked at his cover petulantly. "I thought it would be best," he muttered, not meeting the burning cobalt gaze.
Kanda sucked in a breath, his hands clenching at his sides so tightly that Allen could see the tendons stand out white against the ridges of his knuckles.
"And it never occurred to you," the sword-wielder said, sounding calm except for the slight tremble in his voice that told Allen that the other man was trying very hard to not simply reach out, grab him by the throat, and shake him until his neck snapped. "That I might not think that it would be best to trust the delusions of a clearly mentally-unstable child regarding my own competence?"
Allen gasped and jerked upright. Kanda might as well have just slapped him across the face; it would have had the same shocking effect and probably would have hurt less. Hard on the heels of the wave of pain that welled up from the pit of his stomach at Kanda's words came shuddering anger.
"This has nothing to do with your goddamn competence, Kanda!" The pale exorcist snapped. "I'm not so stupid to think that you can't take care of yourself, but I had hoped that you wouldn't be so stupid as to not realize that sometimes there are things that even you can't fight!"
Kanda sneered at him, stung by the other's insult. "The only things I can't fight are in your fucked-up little head. Did the Fourteenth leave you some nightmares to keep you from realizing what you were?"
"That's not fair and you know it!" Allen hardly ever raised his voice, but the sedative had taken the edge off of his self-control and he was burning with a white-hot fury that the dark-haired man would stoop so low as to throw Allen's greatest shame and fear back into his face. He was shrieking like a child, but he couldn't find it in himself to stop.
"It's not fair to keep me trapped here in this fucking tower out of you own selfishness, either!" Kanda howled right back, leaning forward to slam his hands down on either side of Allen's legs, pinning him so that the younger teen had no choice but to look him straight in the eyes. Kanda wanted the other exorcist to see just how pissed he was at this violation of his will and so he waited, his anger simmering like boiling tar, black and thick and scorching.
Allen could feel Kanda's fury beating against him in palpable waves. It was like standing naked in the desert with the sun beating down on his unprotected flesh, blistering and uncaring and completely distant. And that was when he realized just why Kanda was so livid. Understanding washed over him, sweeping away his anger with the other man and leaving behind the first stirrings of horror.
"You trusted me." Allen stated softly, peering intently into Kanda's blue, blue eyes. He moved his hands to cover Kanda's where they rested on either side of his thighs.
Immediately, the passionate rage in Kanda's gaze was gone, hidden behind the cool, thick walls of impersonality and uncaring that the Japanese exorcist slammed down whenever anyone approached too close to his actual emotions. He made as if to pull away, but Allen tightened his grip on the swordsman's calloused hands to keep him in place. The pale teen knew full well that if Kanda really wanted to leave, he was more than capable of breaking his grip. To his surprise, Kanda allowed himself to be restrained.
The swordsman was staring into his eyes as though he could strip away the layers of Allen's soul and see everything that the pale boy was and ever had been. Allen shivered under that enigmatic perusal, and spoke again, feeling compelled by the strength of Kanda's searching stare.
"I just didn't want you to get hurt." It sounded kind of pathetic now that he had said it, but it rang of absolute truth. Allen still found himself trying not to blush.
"You're one to talk of trust when you didn't even trust me to take care of myself." Kanda was still angry, the sullen burn of resentment making itself known even from under Kanda's mask of icy detachment. "Some kind of trust you prattle on about if it only works one way." Allen winced, recognizing the truth in the accusation, but he still felt the slight glow of warmth that Kanda had acknowledged Allen's earlier assumption as reality, even if it was inadvertent. Suddenly it was even more important that Allen make the dark-haired man understand why Allen had done what he had.
"I do trust you." Allen was whispering intensely, desperately wishing for Kanda to see from his point of view. "I trust you absolutely. But I also think that everyone should have someone to look out for them. I wanted to do that for you, Kanda. I wanted to help you, but sometimes there are other reasons, too, and they are just so strong that I can't help but act. I mess up and piss you off and do stupid things, but I never, ever meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you feel like I didn't trust you. I just…I just…" Allen's eyes widened and he fell silent in shock.
What the hell am I trying to say? He asked himself. I've blabbed on about reasons and wanting to protect him but that seems so ridiculous. I mean, we aren't even really friends. A vision of Kanda as Allen had seen him on the train ride—sprawled out with his white belt gripping the tops of his thighs like a lover—that the white-haired boy wasn't even sure was real floated to the forefront of his mind and instantly the blush he had managed to hold back was flooding his face with scarlet. That isn't what a friend thinks.
The cursed exorcist was drawn back to reality by a soft puff of wind against his face. It smelled slightly of green tea and Allen realized that Kanda had sighed. Grey eyes flew up to search the taller man's face; they had dropped to his lap in shame when he had the sudden insight that his intentions toward the other may be less than pure. Kanda was staring down at him thoughtfully, but he didn't seem angry anymore. In fact he seemed more…amused…than anything else.
Allen pouted at him, hurt flashing in his grey eyes. "I meant it, you know?"
Kanda hn-ed then responded: "I know. It's been a long time since I've seen you have so much trouble saying something. It was nice to have a break from your inane rambling."
Allen stared at him as if he had grown a second head, and then removed one hand from Kanda's in order to pinch himself firmly on the thigh. Nothing changed, except that Kanda raised one cynical eyebrow.
"You made a joke," Allen explained, a little peeved at Kanda's supercilious look. "I figured I was dreaming."
Kanda laughed then. It was the first time in Allen's memory that he wasn't being mocking or sarcastic, and the low, amused chuckle triggered an odd, tingling feeling low in Allen's belly. It didn't help that Kanda hadn't backed away, so each syllable of his laugh send little breaths brushing along the pale boy's cheeks. A long-suppressed desire took the opportunity to surface in the dark corners of the younger teen's mind, nudging at his psyche and before he could stop himself, he acted on it. He could always blame Komui's soporifics of having some bizarre side-effect should the need arise.
Kanda's laugh was cut off abruptly when the cursed exorcist pressed his lips against the swordsman's in a clumsy kiss. It was brief and awkward, little more than a brush of the lips made uncomfortable by the fact that Allen's lunge forward had made their teeth collide almost painfully and their foreheads collide definitely painfully. Startlement made Kanda take a half-step back just as Allen sat back, his face on fire and his eyes lowered.
The pale teen swung his legs off the bed and was already making his escape toward the infirmary door when Kanda's hand clamped down on his wrist.
"Where are you going?"
Allen quailed at the question, spoken so flatly. He couldn't bring himself to turn back and face the swordsman, not after doing something so damn embarrassing. Not for the first time in Kanda's presence, Allen wished that the earth would open up beneath him and swallow him, never to be seen again.
"I'm sorry, I have to go!" he squeaked out, refusing to look back, not wanting to see the look of disgust and barely-suppressed anger he knew would be on Kanda's face.
"Haven't I always told you to finish what you start, Bean Sprout?" Kanda sounded exasperated. Allen blinked; that hadn't been what he had expected at all. He turned to see Kanda's face. He caught a glimpse of a wry smile, then the sword-wielder tugged on his wrist and Allen tumbled forward into the taller exorcist's arms where he was caught and held against a broad chest. The cursed teen yelped with surprised and jerked his face up to ask Kanda just what he thought he was doing. The words died on his tongue when Kanda bent his head down and kissed him.
Allen spared a few seconds to note that, once again, Kanda had proved himself to be better at something than Allen himself was. The next second, Allen's brain melted and he didn't care anymore, relinquishing all control to the older exorcist as strong lips dominated his and a clever tongue dipped into his mouth. Allen could feel his knees giving out and clung with desperate strength to the front of Kanda's uniform to hold himself upright; he couldn't bear the thought of breaking away. Kanda seemed to sense his sudden weakness because one strong hand slipped up from Allen's wrist to cup the back of Allen's head while the other pressed firmly into the shorter teen's lower back, crushing his slender body against the solid muscle of Kanda's belly.
Something hard pressed into the backs of Allen's thighs and, before the white-haired exorcist could scrape together enough brain cells that weren't currently completely frazzled by Kanda's persuasive assault on his lips to form a coherent thought, he found himself sprawled inelegantly on his own exam table. It wasn't comfortable; his shoulders were pressed down on the thin mattress while his lower spine was being ground into the metal edge on account of Kanda's weight bearing down on the smaller boy's hips. Kanda shifted and stepped closer, yanking on Allen's uniform jacket to hoist the smaller boy off the ground. Allen exclaimed in surprise, breaking the kiss, his hands slamming down behind him on the bed to try and maintain his balance. He found himself sitting on the edge of the bed.
Kanda quirked his lips, his kiss-bruised, reddened lips, into a half-smile. "Having trouble, Bean Sprout?"
Allen shook his head dumbly. White hair flopped into his eyes and he raised a hand to brush it away; Kanda beat him to it and the pale exorcist shivered as the sword calloused fingers ghosted across his brow.
"Speechless? That good?" Kanda laughed lowly. The sound of it throbbed in Allen's groin and the younger exorcist shifted uncomfortably.
"Please…" the pale teen whispered. He was blushing again. Kanda "hnn-ed" deep in his throat and kissed him again, long and lingering. Then Kanda shoved him down on the exam table again, all possessive male dominance, and the younger exorcist was dimly aware of the fact that Kanda had crawled up onto the thing next to him. The pale teen could feel the other man's scorching body heat clearly through his uniform. It both frightened and excited him to be so close to the one person he—respected? Cared for?—most in this world. Kanda's hands slid up over his sides as the sword wielder searched for and started to undo the buttons on Allen's uniform without breaking their kiss.
Hazily, Allen wondered how Kanda managed to move with such dexterity, since the cursed exorcist was having a hard time mustering up the coordination even to clutch at Kanda's shoulders. The thought vanished then the swordsman unhooked the last button and reached for the zipper holding Allen's jacket closed. With his teeth.
Oh, my…Allen breathed mentally, his grey eyes comically wide. Kanda noticed and smirked up at him from his current position halfway down Allen's belly, the zipper pull still held firmly between strong, white teeth. The pale exorcist could feel Kanda's breath against his stomach and he jumped in surprise when the dark-haired man's nose bumped against his navel while he tugged the zipper portion apart. Kanda chuckled again, low and deep, and Allen's toes curled.
Allen was astonished. When he imagined how Kanda might be between the sheets—which he hadn't, thank you very much, no matter how much his conscience cringed at the lie—he had never pictured the forbidding exorcist as one for foreplay. And yet here he was, his breath now puffing against Allen's too-tight pants as he jerked the zipper down the last half-inch, letting the pale teen's jacket fall open. The pale exorcist half-hoped that the other man might do the same with his shirt, though he wasn't sure how Kanda would manage the buttons with his teeth.
Allen glanced down at the man in question, who was currently straddling the younger man's legs, only to be met with an amused smirk. The younger man's breath hitched as Kanda hovered deliberately over the bulge in Allen's trousers, his blue eyes sparkling with satisfied cunning at Allen's helplessness before him.
The word "please" slipped past Allen's lips before he could bite it back. Embarrassment painted his already flushed cheeks redder. Kanda laughed huskily and rubbed two fingers over Allen's hip, brushing across the younger man's inner thigh and lower belly in the process. It was horribly, torturously pleasurable to have Kanda's fingers trailing over him, touching him everywhere except where he needed it most. And so Allen became proactive, grabbing Kanda's wrist and pushing the swordsman's palm down over his groin. He couldn't keep his hips from rolling up to meet that welcome pressure and friction.
Kanda growled like an animal and snatched control back from the other exorcist; Allen threw his head back and moaned as the swordsman's calloused hands dragged down the waistband of his pants, barely pausing to unzip them before sliding the fabric off the pale boy's hips and shoving it down to his knees, and wrapped themselves around his turgid length. His grip was firm and commanding, the roughened skin of his palms rubbing intriguingly over Allen's hyper-sensitized flesh. The grey-eyes exorcist groaned and shoved one fist against his mouth to stifle the sound as Kanda brushed a thumb playfully across the weeping slit at the tip of Allen's member. The white shirt clung to Allen's body, the sweat breaking out on his pale flesh turning the thin material translucent.
Allen's pale thighs were shaking; Kanda could feel the movement in his own flesh where the other man's legs were pressed against his own. His reaction pleased the swordsman, who rumbled deep in his chest like a pleased panther and lifted one hand from Allen's cock to brush white hair out of his partner's eyes. Allen gazed back at him through lust-glazed eyes, looking so tempting that Kanda couldn't help but to lean forward and claim those reddened lips once more, even as his other hand kept up its steady rhythm on Allen's length. The pale teen sobbed into his mouth, tangling his hands into the long, ebon strands of Kanda's now mostly-loose ponytail.
The Japanese exorcist pulled his mouth away after a few molten seconds and Allen sighed at its loss, though his exhalation was soon converted into a sort of breathy wail when those searing lips closed around the head of his cock.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, Allen's mind squealed like a schoolgirl before even that though was banished as Kanda swallowed him down until Allen could feel himself pressed against the very back of the swordsman's throat. Allen choked out a cry and jerked himself up onto his elbows from his prone position so that he could stare down at the blue-eyed exorcist sucking him off. Kanda took in the sight of the pale exorcist's now-flushed face, to which sweat-dampened strands of silver-white hair clung. The cursed teen looked delightfully rumpled. Kanda hummed his approval around the column of flesh in his mouth, the vibrations travelling from his palate down Allen's length to buzz against the younger man's pelvis. Allen could feel something tightening in him like a spring wound more and more until it threatened to snap apart. He pulled urgently at Kanda's hair to get the other exorcist's attention.
"Kanda, I'm—ah!—I'm going to…" he could hardly bring himself to say it, his face flushing an even darker red. Kanda laughed softly at his and drew back so that he held only the very tip between his lips, then laved long swipes of his tongue along the underside, tracing the veins there.
Allen's back arched, every muscle drawing tight. "Kanda!" he cried out, "I'm going to cum!" There, I said it! He whispered in his mind, expecting Kanda to draw back. But the swordsman just swallowed him again, his hand fondling the pale teen's balls, and Allen lost it. White flashed behind his eyes, blinding him, and the tight coil inside him flew apart. He shuddered at the strength of his release and tried to ride it out lest he drown in the force of it, collapsing back onto the exam table hard enough to shake the frame. Slowly his trembling subsided and the white faded back into color. Drained, he managed to pull himself up far enough to look down at the other man.
Kanda smirked back at him, his torso still draped across Allen's legs, bracing himself with one foot on the floor to keep himself on the narrow exam table that was serving as their bed. The swordsman's arms were wrapped around Allen's pale hips. Whitish fluid dribbled from the corner of the swordsman's mouth. Allen was mortified; Kanda just licked his lips, watching the way Allen's eyes followed the path of his pink tongue.
"Feel good?" Kanda asked, his usual velvet growl a little rougher. Almost as though he had been poked in the back of the throat a few times with something, Allen's mind added unnecessarily, adding to the pale teen's embarrassment even as he nodded a shaky affirmative to Kanda's question. He wasn't sure he could trust his voice right then. I can't believe I just did that with Kanda, the more rational part of Allen whimpered. He can't be too happy that he just had to swallow a mouthful of—
"Are you ready for more?" The swordsman continued and then, without even waiting for Allen's answer, he stuck two fingers into his own mouth and sucked, making a show of running his tongue around each of the digits. He withdrew them, wet and shining, from between his lips and, before Allen had time to even contemplate what he was going to do next, those slick fingers were pressing gently against his backside, stretching open the tight ring of muscle there.
"Holy shit!" Allen gasped, jerking away only to crash back down onto the table, his legs trapped at the knees by his own pants. And Kanda certainly didn't help his escape attempt as he crawled sensuously up over Allen's body, brushing kisses as he went, until the swordsman was supporting his weight on his knees on either side of Allen's hips and on one elbow, bent and pressed into the padding next to Allen's head. The other hand stayed on Allen's bottom, stroking the smooth skin there, though mercifully it drifted away from his entrance.
"I won't hurt you," Kanda promised, his dark blue eyes even more intense than usual as they bored into Allen's own. Allen writhed uncomfortably under the swordsman, not certain that he could bring himself to submit in such a way to the older exorcist, partially because, after living with Cross for so long and then fighting a war where all dignity and hope had been stripped away, Kanda was asking him to surrender up a large part of the last of his remaining innocence. But he also didn't want to turn the swordsman away when he was so ready to give Allen the relationship that the cursed teen had begun to crave so long ago. And then Kanda whispered the words that Allen couldn't bear to disappoint: "Trust me."
Kanda felt Allen's body slowly unwind underneath his own, each of the pale teen's taught muscles slowly unknotting and allowing the slight form to sink down onto the exam table. Allen's pale grey eyes were focused on his face, reflecting his determination and underlying worry. The swordsman's lips quirked affectionately and he bent his head to press kisses along the delicate flesh of Allen's throat even as he slipped a finger into Allen up to the first joint—barely there but enough to make Allen twist away in discomfort.
"Just relax," Kanda soothed him, stroking the sweating forehead of the other exorcist, tracing over the fine, scarlet lines around his left eye before nibbling at the corner of his mouth. Allen turned his head to deepen the kiss and wrapped his arms around the swordsman's broad shoulders, pulling the larger man down on top of himself. The pale exorcist groaned into the lip lock when Kanda sunk his finger deeper, stroking him inside to try and get him to relax. A second finger joined the first and brushed over something inside the smaller man. Allen jerked as though he had been electrified, a load moan spilling from his lips, and dug his blunt fingernails into Kanda's shoulders.
Kanda pulled back from Allen's embrace just enough to gaze down on the flushed face of the white-haired man as he searched inside him to relocate that spot. No sooner than he had rediscovered it, sending jolts of pleasure shooting up Allen's spine, the infirmary door burst open.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Kanda?" Komui howled. Allen's cry of pleasure turned to one of horror and the pale exorcist scrabbled at the blanket on the bed in an attempt to cover himself, knocking Kanda in the chin with one flailing elbow in the process. The blanket remained stubbornly trapped underneath the two bodies sprawled upon it, so Allen was forced to abandon his endeavor after a few split-seconds. He settled for jerking his shirt back down from where it had ridden up over his belly and pulling his jacket back closed over his thighs. Kanda's hand disappeared from his backside.
"He needs rest, not you bending him over the exam table!" Komui was hysterical. "Don't go taking your anti-social tendencies and bad mood out on my poor Allen!"
Kanda shot the babbling scientist a glare like the end of the world. It was deflected by the Chief's special glasses—or perhaps by his famous ability to see only his version of anything and everything—and Komui kept talking at full flow. The mood was beyond ruined. Allen's face sizzled with heat; Kanda just cursed under his breath and rolled off Allen and the exam table, dropping back to his feet with feline grace. The swordsman adjusted the white belt crossing over his hips significantly, holding Allen's gaze all the while, then strode for the door.
"Later, Bean Sprout," he said, tossing the words carelessly over one shoulder in a voice low and husky with frustration of more than one kind. "My room." Then he left, slamming the door closed behind him so hard that the overhead lights rattled.
"Oh, my poor Allen," the scientist gushed, rushing to Allen's side. The pale exorcist cringed away and pulled his jacket closed more tightly. "It must have been horrible. Kanda is just too aggressive for his own good. What an animal. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," he mumbled, choking the words out through the embarrassed lump in his throat. Komui frowned at him and pushed his glasses back up his nose with two fingers, fixing a gimlet stare onto the blushing exorcist.
"Allen, I want you to know that if ever you feel threatened by Kanda or that you have to allow him certain…liberties because of something he has said, all you need to do is tell me and I will take care of it." Komui was being serious for once, and Allen was forcibly reminded of just why the man had managed to reach his position within the Order. Underneath the bubbling, scatter-brained mad-scientist persona was incredible intellect, compassion, and a strong sense of responsibility. "There is no reason for you to submit to his requests unless you want to. Don't let him guilt you or manipulate you into this if you have doubts or fears."
"He wasn't doing anything unwanted to me," Allen replied, wondering if it was possible for him to melt his face off with the heat from his blush. Though he was grateful to Komui for looking out for him. "I just…I just…"
"Wasn't ready?" Komui finished for him. "Then Kanda will just have to wait for you, won't he. In the mean time, that sedative I gave you should be making you really drowsy right about now." The manic gleam was suddenly rekindled behind Komui's glasses. "After all, I wouldn't want you to fall asleep halfway through your first time. So take a nice long nap, and if you do decide to meet Kanda later, don't forget these. I wouldn't want you to run out." So saying, the scientist slapped a box of condoms down on the table next to Allen's legs. Allen jumped.
"How did you know that I haven't…" the white-haired teen began.
Komui grinned sneakily. "I set up surveillance cameras in the infirmary a long time ago—a safety precaution, you know, to make sure that there was always an eye on the injured even when no one was in the room. Imagine my surprise when I got back to my office and took a peek to make sure you were settling in nicely for your nap. There's no audio—rather a pity, that—but I was just in time to see you start trying to get away from Kanda, you jumped like a virgin when he grabbed you, and I assumed the worst and came down to break it up. And now, if you don't need anything else, I have to find someone to order to clean up the coffee I sprayed all over my desk before it soaks in and ruins the paperwork."
Allen stared at him. Komui misinterpreted it: "I'll help," he added and marched out the door, possible violations of personal privacy via so-called "security" cameras completely ignored. The pale exorcist made a note to check his room thoroughly for any more of Komui's safety devices. If they worked half as well as the assorted Komurins, they would probably be life-threatening if left alone for too long.
The cursed teen debated briefly with himself about whether he should follow Kanda, but Komui hadn't been wrong: the soporific was kicking in and Allen was finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. And so he simply laid down—after dragging his pants back up to a more appropriate level and fixing his jacket—and let himself drift. He was asleep almost instantly.
Some hours later, his stomach roared fit to wake the dead and certainly loud enough to wake Allen. The white-haired man rubbed his stomach gently in a comforting gesture and slid off the table, letting the blanket crumple in a heap on the floor. His feet began following the path to the kitchen before his sleep-addled brain even had a chance to kick in and start giving directions. It needn't have bothered; by the time Allen had achieved full awareness, he was already sitting on a bench in the dining hall waiting for Jerry to call him to pick up the order he couldn't remember dictating. Breakfast will be a surprise, then.
A few moments later, Jerry shouted his name and piled a few steaming plates onto a tray. Allen fetched it and spent the return trip to the table wondering why everything looked slightly odd. And, once he had seated himself and started eating, he discovered that everything tasted a little odd as well. He didn't normally order his waffles with orange syrup, he rarely ate chocolate anything except for as a marker for special occasions (e.g. returning from a mission with Kanda alive and in one piece), and he never ordered less than six dishes. Except that he just had, because there were only four plates, two of which were orange-flavored waffles and chocolate éclairs.
Still, he wasn't about to let food go to waste, so he dutifully ate it all and, feeling vaguely dissatisfied, returned his dishes to the kitchen.
He drifted to the main office, but Komui had closeted himself in his workroom (according to Reever and others who were taking refuge in the scientist's official, paperwork-littered haunt) and was not to be disturbed at risk of life and limb. Allen resigned himself to a day spent without any official duties and contemplated what he would do next. Kanda's voice surfaced in his mind, sex-roughened and demanding: Later. Allen shivered at the tone, and then looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed his sudden spasm. Nobody had.
Well, Allen reflected, trying to ignore the feeling of anticipation curling in his gut. After all, he was only going for a social visit. I guess it is later. I wonder what time he meant? I could always go ask and find out…
He got a bit lost on the way; the Order headquarters was enormous and after a while the corridors all started looking the same. It didn't help that he had only been to Kanda's room a few times before and, given that they had all been very short, extremely unpleasant encounters with the irate swordsman, that he had pushed those memories so far to the back of his mind that they were almost lost. As it was, he was almost surprised when he found himself in front of a dark wooden door in a less-used corridor. I knew I would remember it if I saw it, Allen congratulated himself. The sarcastic voice in his head commented snidely that it was less a matter of memory than a process of elimination: if he knocked on all of the doors in the whole building, eventually he would find Kanda's room. Allen told the voice to shut up.
He had just raised his hand to knock when Kanda's voice came from inside: "It's not locked."
Allen hesitated, and then slowly twisted the knob as though he were afraid that it would explode in his hand if not handled carefully. Then, after drawing a deep breath, he jerked the door open, stepped through, and shut it behind him in one smooth motion so as not to give himself sufficient time to chicken out before entering.
It was dark inside, all shades of gloomy twilight. Allen wondered at it and then wondered why; he had been in the room before and, after all, most of the rooms in the castle were rather dreary. He had to admit that it was made worse by the fact that Kanda had eschewed the normal electric light in favor of the softer, warmer light of a single candle burning on his bedside table. The grey fabric of the bed, black-and-white tiles of the floor, and dark curtains swallowed up the candle's rays and made the shadows deepen until they swallowed nearly everything in the room. At the far end of the room, light glinted off of glass.
That glimmer caught Allen's eyes as an irregularity in the uniform obscurity. It quickly resolved under his questioning gaze into a bell-shaped glass case sitting on the table under the curtain-covered window. Under the glass, a lotus flower hung suspended without any apparent means of attachment, its deep magenta petals lustrous in the low light. It bloomed in full, the petals thick and unblemished, as of yet untouched by decay. It drew the younger exorcist closer, its gleaming color startling and attractive in the darkness of Kanda's quarters. But even as he reached out to touch the glass segregating the flower from the rest of the world, Kanda made his presence known.
"Don't touch that."
Allen jerked his hand back like a guilty child, though his gaze lingered longingly on the blossom before turning to the swordsman.
Kanda was sitting on his bed in the corner, Mugen gleaming across his knees as he ran a soft, oiled cloth down the length of the blade. Whetstones of various grades lay scattered around him, intermingled with discarded rags.
Suddenly Allen felt awkward. What do I say now? Hey, you wanted to see me later, and now it's later, so let's get back to where we left off? But I'd like it if you suc—." He squelched the last thought swiftly, his face heating. He was glad for the darkness shielding his pink face—over the years Kanda had demonstrated himself to be more perceptive than one might give him credit, and Allen knew he would be mortified if Kanda had picked up on that last little bit.
But Kanda seemed to have missed Allen's mental slip and merely continued to run the oiled rag slowly down the curve of Mugen's blade, stroking across the sleek metal in languid caresses that would make a lover jealous. Allen knew because he was practically green with envy. Kanda noticed the dirty look the pale exorcist shot his Innocence and laughed softly, wiping Mugen one more time before sheathing the blade and gently setting within easy reach of the bed. Then the sword wielder patted the coverlet beside him in invitation and began gathering the scattered rags and whetstones into a box he pulled from under his bed. Allen sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, slightly farther away than Kanda had indicated.
The black-maned man dropped the last rag in the box, then kicked it back under the bed with enough force that Allen could hear it bounce off the wall behind. Kanda leaned back onto his elbows and surveyed Allen from under half-lowered lids.
"Nervous?" he asked, as if he couldn't see the cursed teen practically shaking not two feet away.
"A little," Allen admitted.
Kanda hummed under his breath in acknowledgement and slid closer, wrapping his arms around Allen's shoulders from behind and drawing the smaller boy closer until he was leaning into the swordsman's chest. "Do I frighten you?" the dark-haired man whispered into the soft skin under Allen's ear, so close that Allen could feel the brush of his lips.
"No." Allen's response was instantaneous and unequivocal. Shyly, the cursed exorcist tilted his head to expose his neck and allow Kanda access to the skin there.
"Hn," the swordsman hummed under his breath, taking Allen's unspoken offer and nuzzling against the bared throat, his lips and teeth ghosting over the taut flesh. He bit gently at the tendons in the crook of Allen's neck and shoulder then blew a soft breath across the spot. Allen's skin prickled and rose into goosebumps where Kanda's saliva cooled on his throat. One hand, calloused from years of wielding a sword, traced up Allen's chest to grip his windpipe just under his chin. The blunt tips of Kanda's fingers dug in slightly, compressing the firm walls of the carotid arteries pulsing under the skin. Muscles in Allen's back tightened at the gesture and a brief flash of fear jolted down the length of the younger exorcist's spine.
"Do you know what you are doing?" Kanda's voice was low and rough and passionate, though, disconcertingly, the pale teen couldn't tell exactly what passion was coming into play. The hand at his neck tightened again and the edges of Allen's vision blurred slightly. His skin crawled with discomfort and he moved to get away. Kanda's hand dropped instantly from his throat to his shoulder, where it clenched over bone and muscle, the tense fingers crushing down on his clavicle hard enough to draw a gasp of pain from Allen.
Kanda's blue eyes flashed in the darkness as rose and flowed around Allen's body in a sinuous curve, shoving the slighter man down onto the mattress on his back. The candle flared in a sudden draft, its light sharpening and reflecting off of Allen's wide eyes. The fear he had denied earlier—honestly denied at the time, though the cursed teen was no longer certain the safety he felt in Kanda's presence was warranted—slipped back into his mind like poison as the swordsman loomed over him, his dark hair trailing down around them in a veil of jet. Kanda saw his hesitation in that brief glimmer of light and smiled down at him, but the smile was no more than a pained quirk of his lips more akin to a grimace of pain than any expression of pleasure Allen had ever seen.
Another pause yawned between them as they stared into each others' eyes. Allen's shoulder ached at the rough treatment it had received and the pale exorcist was certain that by morning it would be painted dark with a spectacular bruise. He lifted one hand to rub soothingly at the sore flesh, but Kanda moved snake-like, catching his hand in a tight grip and pinning it to the bed next to his face. The sword wielder smirked down at him, then ducked his head to nip at his chin.
"I can't believe that you spent so long in Cross's company without losing that shyness of yours." Kanda's voice was distant and cold, despite the intimacy of the situation. "It it truly astonishing that you still feel so strongly about such little things, such unimportant things…"
Allen wondered for a moment what the dark-haired man was getting at. It wasn't exactly like Kanda to be so vocal in his dissection of Allen's every weakness—he usually found a few mocking words to be sufficient—but he knew without doubt that Kanda had realized something about him that Allen himself probably hadn't.
A low laugh interrupted his train of thought and Kanda dipped his head down to brush his lips against the curve of Allen's ear. The pale exorcist felt the warm wet of the swordsman's tongue brush across the delicate shell of flesh and froze. "Why is it that you still cling to that virginity of yours?" Kanda asked musingly, his breath ghosting past Allen's hyper-sensitive skin. "Is it out of some romantic notion of surrendering it to someone…special?"
The hot red blush burned Allen's cheeks almost before the words registered. "Wha—?" he began, twisting his neck to meet Kanda's steady, hot blue gaze.
"I'm curious, Bean Sprout," the elder exorcist explained, leaning in to speak against Allen's lips. "Why is it that you are giving something you have guarded so carefully, so jealously, in spite of your mentor's depravity and the potential death at every turn that awaits us exorcists, to me?"
"I respect you." The first confession was easiest.
"I like you." The second was not terribly difficult either, but as Allen's lips moved to frame the one he felt most keenly and held most dear, he stumbled.
"I lo…I…nn"
Kanda cocked his head and amusement sparkled in his eyes and quirked the corners of his lips up into the tiny grin Allen had slowly grown familiar with over the years.
"You what?" he prompted, propping his chin up on Allen's sternum and sprawling over the slighter frame of the younger man so that Allen couldn't move, could only feel the heat and strength of the body pinning him against the mattress.
Allen spat the words out before he could hesitate again: "I think I love you!" It was rather louder than he had intended and Kanda winced at the sudden pain in his ears.
"Well," the swordsman breathed out, leaning back to stare down into Allen's eyes. The cursed teen tried to hold his gaze, looking for some sort of acknowledgement. "I suppose that makes sense, in an odd sort of way…"
Nettled by Kanda's ambiguous response, Allen jerked himself upright. "Is that all you have to say?" he demanded, knowing full well that he sounded exactly like one of those desperate women in the trashy romance novels that Linali was so fond of. He'd always thought that the pathetic declarations of love—usually right before, during, or after sex—were trite and cliché, thrown in more as some sort of excuse for the wild rutting than as any honest, emotive declaration. How embarrassing it was to realize that he had done the same thing as every paperback heroine he had scorned on the long train rides while keeping an eye on the sleeping Linali so he could return the book to her pack before she woke and noticed that it was missing.
"Should I say something back?" Kanda responded, his voice suddenly cold. Any amusement that had colored his tone previously was killed off faster than a spring blossom in a late frost. "Do you want me to say that I love you to?"
Allen gaped at him speechlessly, then anger surged in his belly and he rallied. "Of course I expect you to say something! Maybe you don't feel the same way, but you must like me at least a little if you are doing this. You even used your mouth and…and…what you did earlier!" H was blushing, he knew he was, he could feel the heat of it, and he cursed himself for being so childish in a critical moment. A spike of jealousy shot through him at the thought of Cross and Kanda and Lavi, all of whom seemed to be able to rattle off all sorts of innuendo without the slightest hesitation or embarrassment. He couldn't even repeat what the swordsman had done to him in the infirmary.
"Is that what it is?" there was something malicious in Kanda's deep blue eyes as he spoke. "Are you still so convinced that there is enough good in the world that people only have sex when there is affection behind it? Did Cross not take you to enough whorehouses to debase you of that notion?"
"Fine! I get it!" Allen was screaming now and he could feel the sting in his eyes that heralded nascent tears. "It doesn't mean anything to you, so I'll go now. I'm sorry I let you think that I was just looking for a quick fuck!" He shoved at Kanda's shoulders, and tried to swing his legs off the bed. Kanda wouldn't let him leave. The pale exorcist struggled a little longer to no effect: the swordsman remained rigid and immovable, keeping him pinned on the bed.
"God damn it, Kanda, let me go!"
"No."
"What!" Allen was so shocked by the refusal that he stilled, incredulity etched across his features.
"I said: 'No,'" Kanda repeated. "I'm not going to let you go until I get what you came here for. Or did you think that it was fair for me to give you pleasure without receiving any in return? And here I thought that you were the one that insisted so much on repaying your debts."
Allen felt sick to his stomach. What the hell is wrong with him? He wondered, his mind racing. Earlier, he seemed so…I don't know…relaxed, almost happy. He swallowed hard to free the lump in his throat and rasped: "You did that on your own. I didn't ask for that."
Kanda threw back his head and laughed. Allen stared at the bronzed curve of the swordsman's throat and the way his long ebon hair spilled down over his chest to pool of Allen's belly.
"You're right," the elder exorcist replied when his laughter subsided. His voice was a low, throbbing whisper that touched a deep, visceral part of Allen's mind even through the anxiety. "You're right. I didn't ask. And I'm not going to ask this time, either."
The white-haired teen knew instantly what Kanda intended and lashed out. Kanda caught the fist that had streaked toward his face in one hand and tightened his grip until Allen could feel his bones shifting painfully under the thin skin. He bucked, trying to shove the heavier, stronger body off of his own, but failed as Kanda simply sat up to straddle his hips like a man riding an errant colt. Allen had sparred with Kanda before, but had never really realized just how strong his colleague was until that moment as he struggled in true terror to escape. Kanda simply restrained him, collecting both of the cursed exorcist's hands into one of his own and holding them above Allen's head. With his free hand, Kanda reached for Mugen and drew the freshly-sharpened blade from its sheathe. Pale grey eyes widened as the winter-pale edge of the long katana whispered across the black fabric covering his chest. Horrified, Allen reached for Crown Clown's power, expecting the surge of pure, brilliant light that poured from his activated Innocence. His fear magnified a hundred-fold when nothing responded. Kanda smirked down at him and drew his blade across Allen's chest. The fabric of the younger exorcist's uniform parted easily under the keen edge and slipped to the sides as his chest heaved with his gasping breaths.
"Kanda, stop," Allen pleaded, hating how weak he sounded, even as he summoned Crown Clown again and again. "Kanda, please, I don't want this!"
"But you did, Bean Sprout," Kanda whispered back, "otherwise you wouldn't be here, in my room, with no one around to stop me."
"Don't call me that!" the cursed man hissed, terror metamorphosing into killing rage.
"Why not?" Kanda wasn't paying attention any more, his cobalt eyes trained on the pale skin of Allen's pectorals where Mugen had left a thin, beading trail of blood. He ducked his head and ran the flat of his tongue across it, lapping up the crimson fluid even as more welled to the surface.
"Because Kanda calls me that, and you're not him!" Allen snarled back from between gritted teeth. He had said it as a sort of final defense of the image of the man he thought he loved, never expecting it to raise any response beyond a snide comment about how little he apparently know the swordsman. Instead, Kanda stilled above him, his head still bowed over his chest. The dark-haired man's aura flared menacingly, making the candle sputter in its stand, and Kanda lifted his chin to glare up at Allen.
Allen stared back wide-eyed with fear and rage, paralyzed by the extreme emotions wracking his slight frame. His muscled quivered with adrenaline and he felt light-headed, the black haloing his vision warning of his impending unconsciousness. Kanda's deep blue eyes met his stare and bored into him searchingly. The pale exorcist wasn't sure what he was looking for, but was grateful that the swordsman had stopped, even momentarily. The candlelight reflected off of Mugen's blade, which still lay threateningly across his chest, and glinted red in Kanda's eyes.
It was as though Allen was staring down a demon, and that thought sent another shot of adrenaline into his already over-taxed body and gave him strength to wrench one arm free from Kanda's restraint. Allen's hand shot out and grabbed for the edge of the night stand, intended to give the pale teen enough leverage to drag himself out from under Kanda's body, but the swordsman moved swiftly, so swiftly that Allen didn't see until it was too late, and slammed Mugen's pommel into the crook of the elbow of Allen's extended arm. The cursed limb went numb and dropped pointlessly onto the cabinet, knocking the candle over the edge to crash onto the floor. The candle shattered on impact and extinguished itself with a hiss and a cloud of acrid smoke in a pool of its own melted wax.
Shadows rushed in from the corners of the room to cover everything in pitch black. Allen's pale grey eyes slid from where they had looked so hopefully toward the door back to Kanda's face. The white-haired boy sucked in a breath in surprise.
Even with the light gone, an unholy redness still flickered in the swordsman's eyes.
It was familiar and the younger man racked his brain, searching for the memories that would tell him why he felt that he knew that light. Above him, Kanda swore, his voice suddenly a lighter pitch, more tenor than baritone. The hand restraining Allen's right arm clenched and Allen felt the sharp bite of talons into his forearm. The pain slammed into his brain at the same time his epiphany did.
Allen squeezed his eyes shut and curled into a ball. There was no resistance; Kanda's body above him shifted and was gone, sliding off to lay on the bed beside him. The smooth sheets and soft mattress became cold and hard and new aches made themselves known in Allen's shoulder and hip, the same pains one would have if they spent the night on a hard wooden floor. Agony lanced through his chest and his breath caught, and he wheezed. Silver light glared behind his closed eyelids. Allen slitted open one eye and glanced at the forearm Kanda had driven his nails though a few seconds prior. Timcampy looked back as much as a golem could, his teeth latched onto Allen's wrist like a bear trap.
The cursed exorcist sucked in a breath and leapt to his feet. Black stars exploded in his vision and he staggered, swaying as the blood pressure in his head dropped. Firm hands steadied him and when his vision cleared, Allen found himself looking straight into Kanda's angry face.
"Don't stand up so quickly, Bean Sprout, if you are just going to fall over agai—nng!" Kanda's vexed scolding was cut off as Allen, remembering what had happened the last time he had been in such close proximity to the swordsman, struck out and landed a left-handed rabbit punch to Kanda's jaw that sent the older exorcist staggering back a few paces.
"What the hell, Bean Sprout?" Kanda growled, rubbing his jaw. Allen was too distracted by the bright, feather-like billows of energy covering his chest and arm to notice.
"Crown Clown…" he breathed out, lifting his right hand to brush across the sleek metal of the Innocence.
"What did you expect, halfwit?" Kanda was pissed off and glaring like death itself.
"Kanda?" Allen's question had a wondering note that set off warnings in the sword wielder's head. Blue eyes shifted down to where Timcampy was still latched onto the younger exorcist and his gaze hardened.
"It's here, isn't it?" he asked the golem, his voice cold and controlled. "It got to Allen, didn't it?"
Timcampy fluttered golden wings and let go of Allen's arm in favor of settling onto the shorter exorcist's white hair. It agreed with Kanda as well as a mute golem could.
"Fuck," Kanda shouted and slammed one fist into the bedroom wall. Plaster and oak paneling cracked under the onslaught.
Allen blinked, rapidly shaking off the horrible waking dream and returning to the also-unpleasant reality. "It possessed me, too. It…fed…off of me…" the pale teen shuddered in revulsion, remembering the Kanda he had seen. It had been one thing to listen to Kanda relate what had happened in his demonic dreams, but experiencing it first-hand was quite another. If there had been anything left in his gut, Allen was sure he would have spewed it all over the floor. Instead, his dry heave brought up only a thin streamer of dark, thick blood.
"We cannot stay here any longer," Samuel interjected worriedly. Panic made the normally-calm Finder's words come out in a higher pitch than Allen remembered.
"I need to eat," Allen gasped even as he wiped away the last of the sticky gore from his lips. He surveyed Crown Clown with a critical eye. It was far paler that Allen could ever remember seeing it and the streamers of energy that usually radiated from it were reduced to faint, wispy tendrils. "I can't keep Crown Clown going for much longer like this, and…" he trailed off and pressed his cursed hand to the radiant metal plate that was covering the mangled hole through his chest.
The black-haired exorcist raked his younger companion with an assessing stare—one that almost, but not quite, hid the lingering guilt in his eyes—then nodded.
"There will be something in the kitchen, and then we need to get outside." Kanda responded to the situation as he usually did: he took control. "Clearly the thing isn't stopped by the wards on the house—either that or they vanished when Mr. Harrison died. At any rate, we'll do what we decided on yesterday. Let's go."
The ragged trio set off, slinking through the halls like strays that have been kicked one too many times. They retraced the same path they had taken the day before, following the dried bloodstains on the floor until they were again in the dining room. Lilith's corpse was gone from the study. Allen began to open his mouth to point this out to Kanda, but the Japanese silenced him with a jerk of his head while he skirted the long table and jerked open the door hidden in the wall paneling that the servants had used up 'til recently to bring food to the dining room. An enormous kitchen sprawled out behind the door, though it only looked like a small part of had been used in the last few weeks.
A quick search yielded enough food to satisfy even Allen's appetite, though the anxiety that coiled in Allen's belly made it taste like ashes in his mouth. He tried to ignore the measuring glances that Kanda and Samuel kept shooting in his direction, but it was difficult. He wondered if his disquiet was so obvious to them. Finally, he set down his fork and brushed the crumbs from the front of his borrowed uniform. Crown Clown's glow was stronger and steadier, a silent reassurance to the white-haired exorcist.
"Alright," he said quietly, knowing that he already had their attention. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be. You wanted us to go to the main courtyard, Kanda?"
The swordsman nodded in response to Allen's question and squashed his knee-jerk rebuke for speaking about battle-plans in unsecured territories. The incubus had already been inside both of their heads, after all; it wasn't likely that the creature would be surprised by anything they might do.
Finding the front door from the dining room was remarkably easy: the kitchen had a side door onto a hall that led almost directly to the entryway. Samuel ran his hands across the long white coat of the Finder's uniform, making sure that his barrier posts were accounted for.
"I'm set," he told Kanda as calmly as he could, fisting his hands in the fabric of his pockets to hide their trembling.
"Me too," Allen added. Kanda stared at him for a long time. Allen could tell that he wanted to ask about what he had seen, but the dark-haired man refrained.
"Then let's go," Kanda said simply and threw open the front door.
In the center of the courtyard, the red-headed incubus stood with his winged back towards them, looking for all the world as though he were enjoying the pale moonlight streaming across his face. In the dark, the blood-red of his hair looked black. It tipped its horned head to glance back over its shoulder, its lips immediately settling into a sweet smile.
"Ah," the voice was the same sweet tenor Allen remembered in his dream. "I'm glad that you all made it. Won't you come enjoy the gardens with me? The flowers are quite lovely in the night."
Crown Clown responded immediately to Allen's direction and morphed into a silver cannon where his left arm should be. The first shot ripped through the incubus's torso, splattering bloody flesh out the other side in a grisly fountain. The incubus was unperturbed and simply sighed, picking a hank of its long hair out of the bloody mess where its chest had been. Already, the hole was closing as hot pink plasma swirled and solidified in the gap.
"You should be more grateful to me, brat," it said levelly, "since I gave you such a nice dream. I must say that it was terribly convenient for you two to be sent together. It is ever so much more fun to play with you that it was to deal with those other exorcists. Your emotions are so much…stronger."
"Fuck you," Allen responded in equally polite tones and then Crown Clown roared into action, spitting silver rounds of machine-gun fire. The incubus leapt into the air and snapped open its wings, clearly intending to take their fight to a different location, only to be slammed back to the ground as a clear, shimmering barrier spread from the four corners of the courtyard. Samuel, whom had so far been completely disregarded as a potential threat by the incubus, had done his work well and was already moving to reinforce the wards he had cast.
Kanda smirked at the incubus's howl of rage and lifted Mugen in a mock-salute. The Innocence blade gleamed in the watery light of the moon shining through the barrier. The incubus's long, flexible tail whipped like an agitated cat's, then stilled as the creature sank into a crouch. Kanda dropped into a fighting stance just as the beast sprang forward, heedless of the blasts from Crown Clown that pierced its ever-regenerating flesh.
"Are you going to kill me, little toy?" It hissed at Kanda as its claws were parried away by Mugen, the hard keratin dragging across the Innocence with a sound like the wailing of damned souls.
Kanda grinned maniacally, bloodlust shining in his eyes and leaving behind only the will to fight. "No," the ebon-haired man laughed in the incubus's face. "Killing you doesn't seem to work. I'm going to drag you down to Hell and hand you back to your master like the little bitch you are."
In the vicious light pouring from Crown Clown, Allen's face contorted into a feral grin.
Author's note: Hello, all. There are no excuses for how long it took me to update, so I won't give you any. Thank you to everyone who actually stuck with me and read this chapter. For those that didn't (and who clearly won't see this note), I'm sorry I lost you along the way.
Are you all keeping up with the D. Gray-Man manga? I won't give you any spoilers, but I will say that my regard for the manga now oscillates wildly between fury, frustration, and the affection that comes from long use. You probably know what I mean.
Unless I get attacked by a rabid plot bunny, there will be two more chapters. Given the resistance I have developed to the suggestions of the aforementioned plot vermin, that number should be accurate.
If things seem a little disjointed (particularly temporally) in this chapter, comfort yourself with the knowledge that it is at least partially intended. I wanted to recreate the same degree of disorientation that Kanda and Allen are feeling while under the influence of the incubus within the text. Of course, some of the choppiness is a result of being written over the course of a year in fits and starts; sometimes literally one line a day, sometimes several pages. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it and I look forward to seeing you in the next chapter.
Thanks again for reading,
Ibrium