Chapter 4:

"Let's work hard together." Allen accompanied his bow with a blinding smile.

"Tche"

He had purposely tried to get up earlier than Lavi once again, but once again failed. This time he didn't even have the job until late night. Wednesday was a holiday for all employees at the club.

It was way too early in the morning for Kanda to face this idiot. He didn't even have the chance to drink his green tea this morning before Lavi trespassed into his ensuite studio.

Roughly he looked for the block of wood he had prepared. Kanda would rather die than admit that he really did need help and had actually planned out his entire project already. Now that he thought about it, the Mr. oblivious in front of him was probably the most suitable candidate for his theme. Pale skin, delicate features, and even his white hair just screamed "innocence".

Truth be told, he did not want to do the exhibition. He didn't even want to do art! If it wasn't for his old man and stupid university policies he could be peacefully practicing his swordsmanship. Though, this course actually allowed him to release some of his frustrations on defenseless objects of nature.

Running a finger along his favorite sword, Mugen, Kanda knew by the beads of sweat on the pale boy's forehead that he must have been looking like a murderer. That didn't bother him at all. Maybe he could even slice him up a bit. Just a little, his psychopathic side whispered. Sighing, he casually batted away the devil hovering next to his shoulder.

After re-appearing from a small preparation room he threw the other boy a plastic packet.

"Strip." He simply commanded.

Amusing, how the tint of red sparked into an explosion much like the shape of spider lilies.

Hold on, the artistic side of his brain argued. He could use that idea for his final exhibition could he not? That would complete his project. A low grunt accompanied his decision. But looking at the still scarlet face his model wore, he could tell the idiot had caught nothing of the wave of inspiration that had just hit him.

Kanda rolled his eyes: "I'm telling you to change into that. I can't believe you're actually working for that bastard Komui like this…"

It was like the younger's face lit up in three stages with understanding, before hurrying into the same tool room that stood at the far corner of the studio to change.

Tche, is that beansprout a woman, or why does he have to hide to change. For some reason, it pissed him off that he couldn't examine his model more closely. After all he did have a claim over that body at least until the exhibition.

Xxx

Allen was still in awe of the many steel configuration and wooden figurines dotted all over the room. There were many pieces he had remembered from several newspapers and magazines. But when he reflexively caught a plastic bag with something white inside, his heart squeezed. Blood rushed into his cheeks faster than tap water out of a faucet. Did he just hear right? Kanda looked just as cool as ever with a distinct smirk on his smile and hands on his chin staring straight into his face, while asking him to strip? Who did he think he was? Just because he owned a host club did not mean that he was that kind of person!

Before he could lash out at that unreasonable request, however, he distantly heard the Japanese tell him to change into that. Wait, what? Oh! Oooooh ! Now he got it. Flustered, he ducked into the cabin at the end of the room. It was a long trained reflex to change where no one could see him. His body wasn't exactly showy.

When he un-wrapped the plastic bag a surprising large number of feathers bounced up. And when he pulled out several layers of cloth just as icy white as the feathers, he was astonished at how someone like Kanda could own something so unlike him. Allen put it on nevertheless, lest the Japanese would yell at him again. He swore there must be at least a trace of a psychopath behind that freaky sword and stare.

It turned out to be a snow white coat; the exact same hue as his hair color. The coat seemed to weigh down onto his shoulders, but the quilt and fluffing inside were unbelievably comfortable, he wouldn't mind even wearing it naked.

Brushing the idea off immediately, he stepped in front of the curtain awkwardly.

The man in front of him stared for a while critically. Then, clicked his tongue.

"You can't even dress yourself?" The sound of footsteps nearing him panicked Allen slightly. He felt a hand around his wrist. Pulling it up in examination, the weight on his shoulders immediately lifted. When looked up in surprise he was staring at cobalt dark eyes. That was, until he felt the top button on his shirt being undone.

"Wha-what are you doing?" it came out nothing more than a squeak.

"What does it look like? Do you not understand the meaning of 'stripping'?" the other's face was now only centimeters away from his own and he could clearly feel the him breathing out a long sigh.

Again, his blood shot up to his face faster than the world's fastest elevator. Panicked, he swatted away the long fingers at his neck and took a few steps back. His eye darted up to a smug smirk the other was holding. That was definitely revenge, he sulked.

Suddenly, he felt a pair of arms on his shoulders. "What are you afraid of? You said you'd be my model…" A gentle whisper brushed against his already reddened ears.

When Allen looked up it seemed entirely impossible for such eyes to have said something so gentle, but the hands at his collar remained just as smooth as before. Allen couldn't resist. For some reason, those ocean deep eyes demanded his submission and his rapidly beating heart restricted any defensive actions he could have taken. The only thing his brain wanted to think about was the cool touch and light brushes against his heated skin.

The fabric slid off his shoulders swiftly. Kanda couldn't keep his gaze off the pale white skin he was slowly revealing and the color spreading further down the neck. Luckily he was a master of concentration. Others would have definitely gone ahead with whatever thoughts tended to turn up in a male's mind at the sight of naked flesh.

He smiled a smile that was closer to a predatory grin to Allen, when he pulled the sleeveless white plush coat back onto Allen's shoulders.

"There you go… this is a lot more… sexy…" he breathed. Seeing the deepening shade of scarlet, Kanda had to say he was very satisfied with his work.

Mugen felt just as good as it always did. Now let the art begin. Allen watched in awe as the blade rushed towards him.

Xxx

A/N: Hi guys! Thanks for reading this far! :D This is getting interesting. I didn't intend to put this in at first, but I can't resist, lol.

On another note. Chapter 5 will not be out until after the 9th of January or that week, because I am having finals. I will however post a 4.5 on New Year's. This will be an extra chapter just for you guys and you are welcome to read it if you want ;) It does not necessarily pertain to the main storyline.

In the same manner you will find an extra chapter attached to this one! Merry Christmas everyone and give way for the 2011 Christmas chapter!

(This chapter can also be skipped if you want to only follow the main line. But please still scroll all the way down and review! :D)

xxx

Kanda tossed the double doors to the club open. The immediate assault of bells and cheery trumpets told him he was at the right place. He was only one step into the room before someone clomped him to the side.

"Aaaah, Yuuuu, my lovely! You made it to our little parttty!" An obvious drunk red rabbit mumbled into his coat.

Disgusted, he shoved the deadweight back onto the plush sofa he had jumped at him from. Immediately, a cold glare shifted his attention towards Lenalee who was balancing a tray of at least 20 empty champagne glasses.

"You missed the reception, Kanda!" she accused him wonkily.

Just before she could tip over and break the glasses she had miraculously managed to keep on the tray, he grabbed her elbows and pulled her up. Taking the tray from her and pushing her onto a sofa nearby to make sure she was safe, he put the tray onto a drop table nearby. At least she was doing alright. If she got drunk enough he had a reason to shove her over his shoulder and leave this weird place.

As soon as he stepped through the door leading to the changing rooms, he felt the annoying music dampen. Immediately he relaxed. For some reason he hadn't seen that many girls tonight. But who really cared; that meant less work for him and less time facing that stupid yapping Tykki.

But that was not how it happened. Kanda did find a very sociable tan man sitting amongst a group of older ladies entertaining them the way only he could. Tche, and he thought he could relax.

But life was never easy. A few seconds after he had calmed his worsening mood, the single co-worker he did not want to see stopped him in his tracks.

"Tche. I knew beansprouts don't know how to choose their place to grow."

"At least beansprouts know how to get groomed…" the shorter one glared: "You forgot this."

Kanda glanced disconcerted at the white pommel attached to an indigo velvet Santa hat. There was no way…

"Today is the club's Christmas party! All important customers are invited and all the hosts are to wear this. See I'm wearing one too." He pointed at a silver plaited triangle hanging askew from his white hair. That smile is way too bright for my liking, Kanda crossed his arms.

He really should have noticed the change in posture from folding his hands behind his back against the wall to suddenly standing so close to him.

"Also, you…"he poked the Japanese in the chest. "are working with me tonight." He pointed towards himself. "Because Tykki officially doesn't want to work with you anymore." Another annoying smile.

Kanda just knew that the tan host was nothing but trouble. A smirk from his general direction only served to piss him off further. Sudden pressure on his head caught his attention.

"You look good in that." The bright smile he expected morphed into more of a sarcastic grin. These changes in personality were happening too quickly for his liking. And what did that beansprout say?

Kanda angrily grabbed for the hat that mysteriously disappears from the pale hands in front of him and reappeared on his head.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. I clipped it on pretty solidly. If you pull it, you're probably going to end up bald." Oh how Kanda hated that giggle.

"Tche. I'm not working with you."

"Ah, the déjà vu. Yet this afternoon, we had our little tete-a-tete in your studio, remember?" Allen smiled seductively. There was something in those silver eyes that attracted Kanda. It pulled him in and put his brain in a trance he used when he was cutting his sculptures.

This way, he only noticed the plush covers when the back of his knees hit the sofa. His breath hitched. They were sitting at the table nearest to the stage. Well, Kanda was sitting. The other was leaning on top of him, straddling his knees.

"Now… you need some practice." A low whisper around his left ear could be heard before the weight on him lifted and the white haired boy plopped casually onto his left side. Now he had a view of an array of bottles. He felt light headed and something was vibrating through his body. It rendered his limbs absolutely useless. There was the sound of glass clinking. Allen leisurely pulled himself what must have been the eighth drink tonight. The numbness was great. Especially ever since Lavi shoved the first vodka shot down his throat. The buzzing was his friend…and the cheery Christmas music only put him in a better mood.

He trilled the melody to 'Last Christmas' when he poured the Japanese a glass of champagne.

"Lesson number 1: It's easier with a little bit liquid bravery." He handed the wordless man the other glass and kept one for himself.

Kanda awoke from his momentous daze when he felt a long glass with something sparkling golden pressed into his hand.

"What's this?"

"Cham-pagne!" Allen looked at him incredulously. "It's drank during the best of parties!"

He raised the glass to his nose, trying to smell the taste of the beverage. Instead, bubbles pricked his nose. It tasted horrible. The taste of alcohol wasn't strong but it was terribly bitter. He glanced at the old man happily sipping away. That bastard was definitely drunk to the bone. And he must have not heard of Sake if he liked this crap.

"So… I am the customer. You are the host. How would you treat me."

There we go again. About 10 minutes of silence passed before Allen got bored.

"You don't talk much do you?" the younger sighed.

"How about you greet me? Just treat it like a normal conversation!" At this point, Allen would have tried almost everything.

"…"Kanda leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knees. It didn't look like he could get out of this one if he didn't do what his impulse told him was expected of him.

The beansprout was too intoxicated to notice the slender arms snaking around his back, until he was tipped backwards.

"My dear, I am not a man of words…" A soft growl could be heard coming from Kanda's direction. He wasn't sure because Allen's gaze was fixated on the cobalt piercing him. "…I am much more interested in action." A finger trailed up from his lower stomach in circles. Then, moved on to tuck on his collar. "I do hope you will accept my apology…"

And just as fast as the swordsman had moved, his hands had disappeared and left the white haired boy falling onto feathery cushions. The boy was still in shock when the microphone buzzed to life.

"Ladies and gentlemen! As tonight is a special themed night, we want to give you the best service possible! Tonight, you can have your dream dance under the mistletoe with your favorite host! Let's get the party started! Who knows who will get a kiss tonight?" Kanda had to rub his ears to drown out the rest of the nonsense the rabbit was spouting. There was no way this was in their contract. He grinned when he looked at the slightly panicky look on Tykki's face. Served him right. That man would probably spend until morning dancing for his beloved ladies.

The announcement died off and a remake of the carol of the bells faded in. This was definitely Kanda's cue to leave. That was, if Allen let him go.

The albino pulled himself up on the other's sleeve. "I'm the customer remember? You can't just leave me like that!" he purred. "Can you dance?"

Uh.. Those eyes were poison. They were round and big and deep and sincere… and he couldn't resist. His brain was currently yelling: What's wrong with you? With all its might, but to no avail.

At least dance was something he definitely knew how to do. Firmly gripping the lower back of his partner, Allen was surprised to find that he was being lead into a slow waltz. He could barely believe someone as traditionally Asian as Kanda could be could dance a western dance. True, his lead was rather rigid and just as rough as his personality, but the technique was perfect. A warm tingling raised alarm from his stomach up to his face. How could anyone resist such temptation? True to his thoughts, the boy hesitantly put his flaming cheeks onto his trainee's chest.

The samurai, though astonished, wasn't all too pleased. Would the beansprout switch back to his other weird personality and start molesting him? While still circling between the stage and their table, he prayed no one paid them attention. Curses, that Tiedoll's lessons would become so useful now of all times. His blood was not, definitely not, spreading upwards. (It was definitely the exercise.) Well, the heat wasn't uncomfortable. If he was honest, he did kind of like it. But for some reason, admitting that seemed much worse than suicide. Only now did he notice bushes of weird branches hanging from everywhere above the ceiling. What were they?

The end of the song and its annoying bells cleared his thoughts. He came to a halt almost so abruptly his dance partner would have swayed into the next chair had he not kept his hold on his waist above the furniture. It was in that moment that the image of long white lashes fluttering open burned into his mind. Arms slid up his neck and pulled him down. He didn't mind. After all, those beautiful eyes were beckoning him towards them.

Kanda closed his eyes when a pair of incredibly soft lips touched his. They were hot and wet. He could taste the breathlessness, the sweet taste of grapes. He didn't like sweet things, but this kind of sweet was addicting. Someone was tugging his hair impatiently. As if following a train of thought he instinctively bend his knees and picked up the smaller person.

Why did the beansprout taste so amazing? As far as he knew they were supposed to be tasteless, a distant trace of logic reminded him.

His tongue moved to tease the lower lip he was holding captive, while the rest of his body strategically placed the other below him on the couch. He grinned when he felt an immediate response.

By now the room temperature was way overheated. The urge to just grip all of his clothes and toss them aside was becoming harder and harder to ignore. Quickly, he got up to take off at least his vest.

However, when he turned back around, all he could find was a beansprout laying on his side breathing rhythmically. Allen had passed out.

There's a lot of alcohol involved. Even as I'm writing this, so shoot me! I'm sorry if it comes out a little disorganised. But I wrote this entire chapter in 2 hours out of thin air. Improvisation is really difficult. Anyway, once again, Merry Christmas, and hope you all get what you are wishing for! ^^

See you in the next chapter!

Thanks for reading the whole thing and please review! ^^