A/N: Yay, faster update this time! ^_^
He was lounging about in the common area with the girl of his dreams. Birds were chattering and fluttering about by the window, from which visible rays of sunlight shone; atmospheric music playing all the while. So… Lavi should have been happy.
But…
Dream Girl was distracted by a collection of young ladies who happened to have gathered around the glossy, white grand piano as it was being played by none other than her "secret" (to Komui, at any rate) boyfriend. The male to female ratio in this place was shocking, and yet there they all were, gathered around Raphael like he was The Last Man On Earth. The half-dozen sets of eyes directed toward the Finder-turned-Exorcist had Miss Lee understandably unnerved, but Lavi had to admit the guy really didn't seem to notice them all that much while playing. He was simply in his own world.
The young man's parasitic innocence— a small bird redder than Lavi's own hair— was playing with some ordinary birds just outside the window, rather than perching on her Accommodator like that Strike!-hot lady general's parasitic pet. Meanwhile, Timcanpy had chosen now of all times to all but surgically attach himself to the top of Lavi's head.
It hurt his pride. But worst of all, it hurt his heart. The worst kind of hurt he'd ever known yet. A nameless torture. Because Lavi wasn't jealous. What kind of Bookman would he be if he was?
Lenalee sighed unhappily before finally turning to regard Lavi for a moment. He shot her his practiced disarming smile.
"Hey, Lavi…"
"Yeah?" He smiled in answer to his name. It was always nice to hear her voice it.
"You're a guy—"
"That's… what I am," he deadpanned. "Always have been."
"So um…"
"What's that, Lenalee?" He smiled in encouragement.
"Do you—? Would you say—? Um…" Lavi could see her steeling herself before going on and her apprehensiveness concerned him. Lenalee was one of the bravest people he knew. What in the world could be fazing her?
Why did he have the feeling it had to do with Magic Fingers over there?
"What's wrong, Lenalee?"
"You think, um… if a guy and a girl were dating... The guy might… lose interest in a girl after a while, if—"
If… ?
"If she didn't um…" she took a deep breath and proceeded while gazing down at the pair of hands being wrung in her lap. "If she couldn't offer… If she wasn't used to…"
Does she mean—?
"See, there are a lot of girls around who have uh… a lot to offer…" she glanced to her side, watching for a moment as Raphael finished a song and began flipping through sheet music, blessedly oblivious to all the hair flipping and décolletage on display in his immediate vicinity. "…and some other girls might not be able to uhh… do the same things…"
Oh God, she does.
"No idea whatcha mean, Lenalee-chan," he played dumb, "but there's nothing another girl could offer that you haven't got!"
He really meant that, actually.
"Thanks, that's so sweet of you to say, Lavi. But err… it's kind of hard to say this but…" she leaned over and whispered behind her hand: "What about if a girl isn't ready to… p-put out… quite yet?"
But things evidently weren't awkward enough! "Lenaleeee~"
Of course it was just when dear Lenalee's face went bright red in embarrassment at her own question that Reever and Komui arrived to claim the customarily reserved table where they would resume their never-ending game of chess.
The two glanced to Komui and then looked back at each other in shock. Lavi realized far too late that they probably shouldn't have let Komui see that.
Fuck my life!
xox
A nose behind, Walker was last to touch the crumbly, blackened tree trunk. Kanda watched him slump to his knees, examining the dark soot that transferred to his hands from the bark and panting as he uttered a soft curse. The guy had tried pretty hard, but there was no damn way he was going to win this! Not caring about a little bit of dirt on his bandaged torso, Kanda leaned heavily against the tree.
"You made… good use… of that handicap… I see…" Walker looked up at him, swiping his upper arm across his forehead to remove beads of sweat that had collected there.
"Tch! Handicap? Don't… make me laugh, Moyashi. I saw you… leap up those cliffs… with your Innocence…" Kanda gloated, also slightly breathless. "Dork."
"Wha—?" Walker caught his breath. "Well I wasn't going to say anything, but it's not like I didn't spot you blasting through fallen trees with your underworld insects first! Jerk."
"Since I knew you were going to cheat," Kanda grumbled quietly, glancing away to appreciate barren hills of fascinating dead earth and scorched grass.
"Aww… you're pouting. How rare."
"What? In your dreams, Moyashi."
"In my dreams, you let your hair down," Allen began seductively, eyeing his partner up and down before suddenly pointing at him and shouting: "Use my NAME damnit, Straight-Cut Fringe!"
"Geezer-Hair." Kanda retorted, nonchalant.
"Soba-Breath," Walker answered sourly.
"Dango-Junkie!"
"Silk fetishist!"
"Cross-dresser!"
"Sadomaso— Wait, what? Since when am I a cross-dresser?"
"Tch," Kanda smirked. "I saw that battered old tin in your room. I'm not stupid."
"Huh?"
"The one with all the different coloured pencils and even false eyelashes, of all things."
"Oh, you mean the—" For some reason, Walker bit his lip as if trying not to laugh, before breaking out into a huge and silly, but endearing grin. It wasn't one of those fake smiles he wore all day like, well, thick make-up. Instead of reaching that exact embarrassed shade of deep pink Kanda had unconsciously calculated his words should induce, his cheeks glowed with delight and he was searching his accuser's expression— gleefully? There was a disconcerting air of wonder in his voice as he continued: "You— You're really serious, aren't you?"
"No point hiding it anymore, Moyashi. You've probably got frilly dresses and lace panties hiding away somewhere," Kanda added smugly, choosing to ignore the unexpected prior reaction and push even harder now.
"Uh huh… Bet you'd like to see me wearing that kinda stuff, huh, Kanda?" Walker teased, that alluring tone returning again to his voice.
"Well I didn't exactly ask you to go out and buy the things, but—" his voice fell to a small murmur— "But I wouldn't… mind it."
"Oh really? What did you have in mind, then? Shall I don an evening gown for you? Or maybe a maid's uniform?" Walker was twirling his hair in his fingers, still appearing entirely too happy about it.
"Y-you— Do you actually have that kinda stuff?"
Having turned away from where Kanda was leaning, Walker began circling the tree, dragging his ungloved right hand along to trace its dead, brittle surface. His white hair and pale skin seemed to give off light against the tree's impressive charcoal before he disappeared round the other side.
It had never occurred to Kanda to actually imagine it before— Allen dressing in drag. Now, however, he slid into a daydream…
Slowly, carefully he's pushing a satiny, deep-red hem up the reclining Allen's legs, letting the slinky fabric bunch unevenly above his fingers. Allen's eyes smolder, gently. He wears a confident smile, owning the dress without taking on the stereotypes associated with wearing one. The curtain continues to rise as Kanda closes in on this sensual spectacle. He reaches deep inside the fabric to touch bare skin he can't yet see, and Allen's back arches off the bed, causing billowing cascades of lit and shadowed fabric to fall and drape downward, outlining that toned and muscled torso, and—
Kanda was shaken abruptly out of his fantasy by an outburst of snickering.
"Hahaha— Kanda!" Walker said fondly. "Sometimes you can be so cute!"
If it wasn't for the eyes Bean Sprout was giving him, the brat would have been experiencing a world of hurt, right then. Still, Kanda shot him a warning look: 'Explain yourself,' it sternly said. (Very sternly.)
"Kanda, Kanda, Kanda," Bean Sprout smiled and spoke softly, caressing rigid features so that his facial musculature began to relax, if just a little. "Don't you know the difference between cosmetics and stage make-up? Women don't wear white greasepaint …well unless they're clowning!"
"Tch. So then, what about the eyelashes, Moyashi?" Kanda challenged, triumphant.
Yet somehow, he could tell he'd already lost this one.
"White greasepaint, BaKanda. It renders my own eyelashes practically invisible. Even a clown can look off with no lashes. And it's part of the character anyway."
Kanda had one last question on his mind, but there was no need to speak, since he knew Walker would anticipate it.
"Wondering why such things are in my room?" Walker's smile turned wistful. Kanda remained silent, an invitation for him to continue. "It's a memento. Of who and where I was in the past. Back before Cross. Back with Mana. And it's a reminder of my promise to keep moving forward."
Kanda kept watching as the smile directly before him became less sad and more sentimental.
It drew closer as well.
"They're the very first set of face paints I ever owned, you know. Mana… gave them to me. I could never bring myself to finish up with that set and toss it out. I kept the whole lot of it all this time."
It mystified him, the way he could listen to Allen Walker babble on about his past— and never get annoyed or impatient for him to stop. Not that he'd tell. Actually, Kanda felt a growing desire to touch him, just now. To embrace that sunny, warm body. Just… to hold that body against his own.
It had been a long time since Kanda felt like that around anyone; contentment at just being together. He didn't know why, but he didn't need to, because this thing between him and the Bean Sprout was only ever going to be something physical. It was only about relieving tension. Finding release.
He was determined for it to stay that way.
Right on cue, Walker stood directly before him, capturing his gaze with unmistakeable bedroom eyes. Problem was there weren't any walls around them, last he'd checked. (Or even greenery, for that matter.) Still, Walker's smoky eyes burned before he leaned in and let out a hot, needy whisper against his throat: "Kaandaaaa…"
At nothing more than that sultry summons, tingles of arousal coursed throughout Kanda's body. He closed his eyes, head angling back to revel in these sensations for a moment, despite himself.
"Fuck," He almost sighed. "We can't do this here."
"As I recall, someone didn't seem to have a problem starting something up out in the wilderness during our last mission together." A featherlight trail of tiny kisses climbed up Kanda's neck.
He rolled his eyes; "That was different. Someone might see this time."
"They won't." Hot, moist breath spread softly against Kanda's ear before he felt a sudden lick behind it, and an exploring hand on his ass. He concentrated on reinforcing the strength in his knees while Walker nipped and sucked at the top of the curved ridge into which he was speaking. "Trust me?"
A/N: Thanks as always for reading. Please review!