I feel as though I'm mistreating you guys... and I'm sorry about that... so here you all go ^^ Hope this is worth the wait!
"Hey, moyashi," Kanda said gently, nudging the sleepy form huddled beside him naked on the couch
"Hmm?" Allen mumbled, blinking his eye drowsily before curling up to the warm body next to him.
As a response, Allen felt Kanda's muscles move as the samurai reached behind him to pull out his katana then stretched it to an unknown area of the room. Turning his head, Allen noticed Kanda's katana searching the pool of blood before coming up with a small circular object dripping in the crimson mess. Pulling the sword closer, both he and Kanda examined the tip, which now held a blood-covered ring.
Tilting the tip of the weapon towards Allen, Kanda smiled before saying, "for you."
"How sweet, you really shouldn't have," Allen responded with a smile, taking the ring from the sword and slipping it on his left ring finger before he held it up to the light for the pair to examine, its gold colour now evident as the blood dripped off it.
Allen's hand was encompassed by a second warm one and was brought to its owner's mouth. The detective closed his eyes as he heard and felt Kanda's warm tongue licking off his trophy. Pulling Allen's hand away from his mouth, the Japanese pulled the ring into the fading light for the second time, the pattern on the ring now evident.
"It's a pentacle," Allen stated calmly, his fingers tracing the upside-down star with almost tenderness.
"Hmm," was all Kanda said, his forehead resting in Allen's fine white hair and his arm tightening around the slim waist.
Allen sighed and slumped back into the murderous psychopath, content to just lie there surrounded in his arms, the shuffling of the body behind him telling him otherwise.
"We must get going," a sultry voice whispered in the detective's ear, shivers sent up the lithe man's spine at the timbre, "you need to get called into a murder in the morning, round six thirty I expect if the maid is prompt."
"And she usually is," the younger sighed, shifting over the toned body he lay upon, his hand remaining on the part of chest that concealed the beating heart, the thumping the only inclination that the murder had one, his body pulling at the clothes that lay piled by the armrest of the couch, carefully piled away from the pooling blood.
The two dressed with swiftness and speed, Allen slipping on a pair of gloves before he began looking over the couch and floor, the sheets he covered the couch with stripped and stuffed into a black duffle bag he brought with him, his hands careful to wipe away any traces of his presence in the complex.
"Come on," Kanda called from the window, his own boots slipped on once he was outside the window, any fibers and prints already destroyed utilizing the same technique Allen taught him, the younger running to him, his bag tossed out before he nearly jumped out the window, his own feet landing on the grate, his hands gripping the shoes he slipped into his black bag, the window shutting as the black runners were slipped on.
The two made their way down the fire escape, the latex gloves replaced with leather to avoid prints on the railing, Allen landing first on the ground from the ladder, his sliver eyes looking up at the descending man.
"You know," the murder started, "I wish you would stop sighing at every little thing."
"I wouldn't have to if I got to see you more often," Allen pouted, "my offer still stands."
"And I do thank you for it," Kanda murmured quietly, "but… I still don't know."
The younger sighed while his psychotic lover hit the ground, his body suddenly grabbed around the arms and waist, firm lips pressing against his, Allen practically melting in his arms at the feeling, his own fingers threading through the silken strands, nails digging into the scalp while he hummed in contentment.
"… N-No… st-stop!"
The commotion from the other end of the alley caused the two lovers to break apart, eyes curious as they heard the commotion. Their feet carried them a few steps before they saw the screaming woman back into their sight, her arms clearly struggling with someone her face petrified as she screamed in terror, her face frozen as the sound of a gun echoed through the alleyway, her body falling back onto the asphalt with a hard thump, her eyes blank and unstaring.
"I might be here a little earlier," Allen muttered as he made his way to the woman, his gun's holster unhooked as he kneeled beside her, her arm outstretched while the detective looked her over. "She's definitely dead," the detective mused, uncaring if the attacker was around the corner, "cocaine addict too," he murmured, his eyes looking at the marks on her fingers, "though it looks like she hasn't used in a while."
"Another dead hooker then," Kanda murmured, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at the two of them impassively, his eyes widening as he saw Allen still, "what is it?"
"I think I know why she wasn't using," the younger announced quietly as he ran around the corner to the woman, stepping over her body with care while his silver eyes were wide.
Curiosity ran through the Japanese's body, his eyes narrowing as he followed his lover, his own eyes growing wide when he saw what had caused his young lover to suddenly change his demeanor, his heart freezing as he saw the large belly she sported, the fullness indicating that she was well into her third trimester, the scared hand moving over the flesh covering her womb.
"Kanda," the detective whispered, his silver eyes widening even further, "it's still alive."
"Wh-What?"
"Th-The baby, i-it moved, i-it's still alive!"
The Japanese stood frozen as Allen seemed to panic at the idea of an unborn fetus dying with his mother, the elder's jaw twitching before he stood over when his lover kneeled.
"Move," he demanded, his voice harsh while the younger seemed startled at the sudden change, the sword unsheathing with a flick of the other's thumb.
"K-Kanda?" the detective asked, worry in his face, "y-you can't kill it! The mother was the whore, not the child!"
"I know, moyashi," Kanda told him, "now hurry up and move, time is precious."
Stammering softly, Allen complied, watching as his lover brought the blade to the woman's stomach, blood spilling out of the cut and onto the grimy ground, the blood splattering on both his and the detectives clothes. With swiftness, the younger reached into the gaping wound, the fluid gushing out still warm as the hands gently found a small head and body, Allen pulling out the tiny creature with care, his hands supporting the head and torso, the small babe pulled into his arms, the infant neither breathing nor crying, his eyes shut.
"Come on little one," the detective murmured, his hands rubbing the small back with tenderness, his two fingers taking care not to press too hard on the babe, "come on, breathe!"
"Moyashi," Kanda started softly, his own body kneeling beside the other, the small infant cradled in his arm, the umbilical cord still attached to the mother, "moyashi I don't think-"
"But, h-he's got to," Allen practically whispered, "come on little one."
"Aren," his lover tried again, his hand on the young man shoulders, "Aren, I'm sorry but he's-"
A coughing sound interrupted him, both sets of eyes turning to the small infant, the baby shaking as it inhaled its first few breaths, the mouth and nose Allen had cleaned up when he first took the baby out of the womb, the lungs expanding to begin crying, the face scrunched as the babe wailed into the night.
"He-He's alive," the young detective breathed, his face curling into a smile as he adjusted the infant in his arms, a tiny laugh slipping out his lips, tears pricking at his silver eyes as he looked up at Kanda, "he-he's alive Yuu."
"I stand corrected," Kanda murmured as he leaned over Allen, his over coat removed to pull at his black sweater, his lover understanding and slipping the infant into it, the crying and squirming slowing as he was wrapped in tenderness and warmth, the katana severing the last link to his mother. "Shh, now shh," the Japanese crooned, his arms gently rocking the babe, Allen leaning towards him to pull back the bits of cloth covering the child from him, his smile radiant, "see no reason to cr-"
The Japanese's words died on his tongue as the child opened his eyes, his lithe lover's eyebrows shooting up in surprise as the baby looked at them, his heritage was that of his mother and Kanda, but his irises were a silver identical to Allen's. With care not to startle the child, Allen moved to the mother, his hand on her face as he turned it towards him, his eyes looking at hers.
"Brown," he murmured, "she had brown eyes, so how can he have silver?"
"Even if the father had grey eyes," Kanda agreed, "her odds of giving the boy none of her alleles would be astronomical."
"But she did," Allen whispered, his body moving back to the babe, his finger in front of the child's eyes, "maybe he's blind?"
"They'd be either be milky white not this colour or unable to respond to stimulus," the other murmured, watching as a tiny hand reached up to grab the finger, the motion stopping as the infant stared at it before back to Allen.
"Here," Kanda murmured, the infant handed over to the man whose finger he was holding, silver eyes looking up at his lover in confusion. "I need to clean this up," the samurai explained, standing from the two of them, "if they find her they're not so stupid that they'd put two and two together and start looking for a baby; the heat would be incredible and we'd never get a break from anything."
"Sure," Allen agreed, his mind still slightly dazed as he too stood with the baby in his arms, his eyes surprised and his legs felt weary, "but-wh-what am I to do with him?"
"Whatever you chose," the Japanese told him as the corpse was hoisted in his arms, "just think it through."
It took the psychotic killer more time than he was willing to spend on the woman before he allowed himself to return to Allen, the body and evidence hidden in such a fashion that only his lover would be able to find it after thoroughly searching the area. The journey to the younger's was swift, his legs taking him up to the window of Allen's new apartment, the "incident" with the killer was enough to convince the police that their rookie detective was in danger, immediately finding him a new place to live, this one nicer and larger than his first. The window was already open for him, Kanda smirking at how easy Allen was making this for him; the tall form slipped inside, his bloodied clothes slipped in with his lover's and his hands found the fresh change that Allen left out for him out of consideration.
"Moyashi?" his deep voice called quietly, his cobalt eyes looking around the rooms as he slipped down the hallway, his reflection caught in the bathroom mirror, his face otherwise clean save for the flecks of blood on his throat and around the underside of his jaw; the warm wet towel he grabbed did a splendid job of cleaning his face, the man throwing it aside when he finally saw the pristine white hair bent over the couch, his black sweater draped over the arms rest.
"Hey, Kanda," Allen called softly, his silver eyes turning up to smile at him before turning back to the bundle in his arms now swaddled in a white silken cloth, the blood and other fluids from before had since been washed off the child, the bottle the younger was feeding him with was entirely new to Kanda.
"I thought you were going to leave him at a hospital or something," the killer murmured as he took a seat beside the white-haired man, his eyes looking over at the two of them
"Too many variables," the other told him, his hand fixing the bottle in the child's mouth, the infant suckling on it, his tiny hands on the glass as if to reassure himself that it was there.
"And the bottle and formula?" Kanda asked, "how can you explain that?"
"I stole it from the young woman downstairs," Allen explained, "she won't notice them gone and even then, who'd report that stolen? Besides, she knows I'm a cop so she'll come to me first, always has."
"I see," the Japanese whispered quietly, "so, how is he?"
"Seems well, I know next to nothing about babies so can only assume he's fine; at least, I hope he's fine, I gave him a bath and formula made for newborns," the detective explained softly, the bottle removed from the infants mouth as a soft napkin wiped away the formula that dribbled onto his chin and lips, Kanda watching him intently.
"Why are you here?"
Cobalt eyes widened at the question, his irises turning to the white-haired beside him.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Allen pressed as the infant was gently rocked in his arms, "psychopaths can't love, so why are you here, with me?"
"To an extent," Kanda replied honestly, "psychopaths are like you, wired differently. But to answer your question, a psychopath can love another, but not the same as normal humans. Granted, they need excessive stimulation to be entertained in a relationship but the other thing is that, like all humans, they desire to be cared for, thought to be an impossibility with the condition," a long finger slid under Allen's chin, "but I am no psychopath; I am vengeful and seek to rid of several unnecessary stains, but I do feel remorse for the innocent that are harmed in their wrath. So I can love," his fingers brushed aside the long strands, "and I do."
Allen smirked at the comment, the babe in his arms rocking slowly to sleep while the man cradling him leaned into the other.
"Don't say things like that around the baby," he chided quietly, "there's no telling what he'll pick up."
"He's in the arms of a detective who likes to get screwed next to the mutilated corpse by the man who made it so," Kanda whispered in his ear, "and you're worried about my implications?"
"And you're language," Allen murmured back, "but I see your point."
"So," Kanda sighed, "since we're keeping him, what's his name?"
"We?" the detective asked quietly, looking over at his lover, "you're going to be here?"
"Is there somewhere else I should be?" the Japanese smirked, "aside from killing an adulterer with you beside me."
"You and your sweet talk," Allen simpered, "so I guess this means you've decided then?"
"If by decision you mean that am I moving in with you than no, I'm not," long fingers hooked themselves under the pale man's chin, "you are moving in with me."
"No I'm not," the silver eyes teased, "too many variables and not enough explanations for all of it. You move in with me."
A lip curled as the psychiatrist smirked, his lips open before he was cut off by a small cooing, their eyes turning to the baby in Allen's arms, the child falling slowly asleep in comfort and warmth, his mercury irises drooping slightly, his arm reaching for the two of them.
"Yoshinori."
"Huh?"
Cobalt eyes looked at his lover before back to the babe, "it's a name that means "correct law", a befitting name for our son, don't you think?"
"Our son?" Allen asked quietly, "we had no part in the conception."
"He is Japanese in his looks and has bright silver eyes," Kanda explained, "though his mother had brown; she died where we could find her and he came to life in your hands."
"So what you're suggesting is that he was made for us," the detective concluded quietly, his eyes staring at the baby cradled in his arms, "and I think I'd have to agree." A smile slipped onto his face as the younger leaned into his lover, the baby's eyes closing as he slept, "alright then, Yoshinori it is."
Aww... our little psycopaths have little hearts ^^
... yeah...
Reviews?