Better the devil you know, DGM, Kanda/Allen
Better the devil you know.
Words count: 1200
Pair: Kanda Yu/Allen Walker
Rating: R, some adult situation, but nothing too bad
Summary: Sometime after they discovered the Ark, Allen began to have nightmares. For Yullen Week's Dec 26th theme, Lies.
This is for a1y_puff and nherizu. Might as well, because I surely wouldn't write this if not for their continuing push. (I still love you guys). a1y_puff corrected the errors for me. I made her work for her fic, yay. ;P
Sometime after they discovered the Ark, Allen began to have nightmares. Bad dreams were old friends to him. After Mana's death, they visited him every night. He was broken, never mended quite right, despite what Cross had tried to do for him. He knew this. But the dreams got less and less frequent after Black Order. Until now.
He woke up in the middle of the night. Sweat damp hair plastered to his temples. His hands clenched around the sheets almost painfully. The image of his dream burned the back of his eyes. He had cried in his sleep.
Allen sat up and tried to control his beating heart --Timcanpy a comforting weight on his lap. The faceless golem was nipping lightly at his stomach. He could feel the sharp ridge of its teeth through the sheet and pajama covering his abdomen.
"Tim, I'm alright," he said. His hand petted Tim, some semblance of comforting gesture for both the golem and himself.
Tim bared its teeth.
"Yeah, probably fucked my sleep again though," Allen sighed, answering Tim.
He scooped Tim with a hand. Going out seemed like a good option yet again. He had been waking up several hours before dawn the past few days, running like a fiend amid the early frost. You're lucky you haven't slipped and broken something, Lenalee huffed to him two days ago in the cafeteria. He smiled cheekily, trying for contrite but knew he failed for the long shot when Lenalee just rolled her eyes.
He ran until his legs ache and every breath burned his lungs. It was hard on the first mile but always became steadily better on the second as his body adjusted to the work out. He ran until everything in his mind fade but the pounding of his boots against the empty street of the sleeping city.
Allen came back from his run drained. He plopped face first to the cool marble at the back entrance of the church. Tim was tittering beside him, trying to imitate Allen.
He laughed a little at the silly antics. "Tim, if you feel even half exhausted as I am, you wouldn't be flapping your wings against the marble like that. You wouldn't have the energy, Tim."
"Damn right he wouldn't," came a too familiar voice.
Allen didn't even lift his head to stare at Kanda. It had become a far too often occurrence to find Kanda first thing in the morning after his run.
Allen mashed his face to the smooth floor. His damp and hot skin felt really good against the cold stone. Someone's shoes had probably stepped on horse manure and walked passed the area sometime within the week, but, no way he gave a damn right now.
"Arrrgh, go away evil imaginary voices," he groaned.
Kanda snorted. "Delusion is the first sign of madness," the swordsman supplied. A swishing sound accompanied his speech. The man was probably in the midst of perfecting his kata --or whatever the hell you called all that posturing and swinging your sword against thin air.
"Ha. Ha. Very funny," Allen replied dryly. Tim was now perched on the back of his neck. The golden golem, despite contradicting assumption, actually had body heat. It was warm on Allen's skin.
He batted on the golem when Tim begun to tease him with its teeth. Not enough to draw blood, but strong enough to leave a row of puncture marks.
Allen got up. Tim was ever the nagging mom he never had. The golden golem was trying to get him back to his bed. Sleep. Sleep. Exhausted. He couldn't hear what it was saying exactly, but he understood all the same.
"Can't, Tim. Don't think I'd have much luck trying to sleep," Allen told his golem.
"You look like someone's old shoes," Kanda commented, the ever helpful. Now that Allen could see him, he let his eyes stayed on the swordsman. Kanda was standing at the lawn. His feet a shoulder width apart, steady on the damp earth. He had forgone his top. A pair of black pants slung low on his hips, showing too much skin in the wrong weather.
Allen was fighting a lost battle of not letting his eyes stray to some parts. The cut of the man's pelvic bone made Allen's mouth watered.
He cleared his throat and said, "Sorry, I can't be like certain someone who's accustomed to wake up before dawn since he learned how to walk."
"Laziness breeds incompetence," Kanda said. He changed the angle of his hold, facing away from Allen.
A sheen of sweat covered Kanda's back. Straight, elegant spine and light muscles worked like clockwork harmony, rippling with every move Kanda made.
"Only old men faithfully stay up instead of getting five more minutes of sleep," Allen replied, then sighed, "But then, that explained nothing on my master. He sleeps until noon every bloody day."
Kanda didn't give any respond on that. He stopped mid swung instead and gave Allen a pointed stare. His downturn mouth--a hard, angry line--conveyed more for him than words ever could.
Allen wanted to bite that pout. In another time, he'd probably read Kanda's sour expression as another sign of aggression. In another time, he'd reacted in far different way. Probably trying to gouge an eye out of the other man.
Kanda shook his head and walked. He moved pass Allen, getting through the arched door.
Allen blushed. He'd had every reason to believe the man had just read what Allen had in mind.
"Follow me," Kanda said.
Allen turned to face the retreating back of Kanda. His mouth opened and closed again, thinking better of his reply.
---
It didn't solve anything. Really. It didn't.
Sex didn't solve anything. If anything, it complicated things.
"Your elbow, ugh, hurts me," Allen rasped out. He was face down against the mattress. Kanda's hand held the back of his neck, a force that made him unable to lift his head more than half an inch from the sheets. One of Kanda's elbow dig into the backside of his ribs.
Kanda grunted. He was sitting astride Allen. A solid weight on the back of Allen's thighs. Allen could feel Kanda's dick. A mass of hot furnace against his ass.
Kanda removed his elbow, but kept his hold on Allen's neck steady. It'd probably left a bruise. Something that Allen could felt for days after.
Allen whined at the thought. He wanted. Wanted. Now.
"And, well, if you will, can you move along? I can take over if you feel inadequate," Allen taunted. He knew how to push Kanda's button. How to make the man do what he wanted.
Allen smirked when he heard Kanda's growl.
---
After, they lay on the sheets, sweaty and exhausted. Allen was halfway back into sleep when Kanda nudged him to move away a little.
"I can't sleep with you clinging to my side like a barnacle," he said, the ever romantic.
Allen snorted and moved away.
He knew closing his eyes would make him go back to his dream. Sex didn't solve anything. Neither did another warm body in his bed. Really. It was him. He was broken inside. For a time, body contact and a family connection with the people in Black Order healed him. But it was no longer enough.
But this sleep, comfortable and warm, lulled by extertion and release, in the breaking dawn was worth a try. If only so that he could look at Lenalee in the eye and said that he overslept that day.
Words count: 1200
Pair: Kanda Yu/Allen Walker
Rating: R, some adult situation, but nothing too bad
Summary: Sometime after they discovered the Ark, Allen began to have nightmares. For Yullen Week's Dec 26th theme, Lies.
This is for a1y_puff and nherizu. Might as well, because I surely wouldn't write this if not for their continuing push. (I still love you guys). a1y_puff corrected the errors for me. I made her work for her fic, yay. ;P
Sometime after they discovered the Ark, Allen began to have nightmares. Bad dreams were old friends to him. After Mana's death, they visited him every night. He was broken, never mended quite right, despite what Cross had tried to do for him. He knew this. But the dreams got less and less frequent after Black Order. Until now.
He woke up in the middle of the night. Sweat damp hair plastered to his temples. His hands clenched around the sheets almost painfully. The image of his dream burned the back of his eyes. He had cried in his sleep.
Allen sat up and tried to control his beating heart --Timcanpy a comforting weight on his lap. The faceless golem was nipping lightly at his stomach. He could feel the sharp ridge of its teeth through the sheet and pajama covering his abdomen.
"Tim, I'm alright," he said. His hand petted Tim, some semblance of comforting gesture for both the golem and himself.
Tim bared its teeth.
"Yeah, probably fucked my sleep again though," Allen sighed, answering Tim.
He scooped Tim with a hand. Going out seemed like a good option yet again. He had been waking up several hours before dawn the past few days, running like a fiend amid the early frost. You're lucky you haven't slipped and broken something, Lenalee huffed to him two days ago in the cafeteria. He smiled cheekily, trying for contrite but knew he failed for the long shot when Lenalee just rolled her eyes.
He ran until his legs ache and every breath burned his lungs. It was hard on the first mile but always became steadily better on the second as his body adjusted to the work out. He ran until everything in his mind fade but the pounding of his boots against the empty street of the sleeping city.
Allen came back from his run drained. He plopped face first to the cool marble at the back entrance of the church. Tim was tittering beside him, trying to imitate Allen.
He laughed a little at the silly antics. "Tim, if you feel even half exhausted as I am, you wouldn't be flapping your wings against the marble like that. You wouldn't have the energy, Tim."
"Damn right he wouldn't," came a too familiar voice.
Allen didn't even lift his head to stare at Kanda. It had become a far too often occurrence to find Kanda first thing in the morning after his run.
Allen mashed his face to the smooth floor. His damp and hot skin felt really good against the cold stone. Someone's shoes had probably stepped on horse manure and walked passed the area sometime within the week, but, no way he gave a damn right now.
"Arrrgh, go away evil imaginary voices," he groaned.
Kanda snorted. "Delusion is the first sign of madness," the swordsman supplied. A swishing sound accompanied his speech. The man was probably in the midst of perfecting his kata --or whatever the hell you called all that posturing and swinging your sword against thin air.
"Ha. Ha. Very funny," Allen replied dryly. Tim was now perched on the back of his neck. The golden golem, despite contradicting assumption, actually had body heat. It was warm on Allen's skin.
He batted on the golem when Tim begun to tease him with its teeth. Not enough to draw blood, but strong enough to leave a row of puncture marks.
Allen got up. Tim was ever the nagging mom he never had. The golden golem was trying to get him back to his bed. Sleep. Sleep. Exhausted. He couldn't hear what it was saying exactly, but he understood all the same.
"Can't, Tim. Don't think I'd have much luck trying to sleep," Allen told his golem.
"You look like someone's old shoes," Kanda commented, the ever helpful. Now that Allen could see him, he let his eyes stayed on the swordsman. Kanda was standing at the lawn. His feet a shoulder width apart, steady on the damp earth. He had forgone his top. A pair of black pants slung low on his hips, showing too much skin in the wrong weather.
Allen was fighting a lost battle of not letting his eyes stray to some parts. The cut of the man's pelvic bone made Allen's mouth watered.
He cleared his throat and said, "Sorry, I can't be like certain someone who's accustomed to wake up before dawn since he learned how to walk."
"Laziness breeds incompetence," Kanda said. He changed the angle of his hold, facing away from Allen.
A sheen of sweat covered Kanda's back. Straight, elegant spine and light muscles worked like clockwork harmony, rippling with every move Kanda made.
"Only old men faithfully stay up instead of getting five more minutes of sleep," Allen replied, then sighed, "But then, that explained nothing on my master. He sleeps until noon every bloody day."
Kanda didn't give any respond on that. He stopped mid swung instead and gave Allen a pointed stare. His downturn mouth--a hard, angry line--conveyed more for him than words ever could.
Allen wanted to bite that pout. In another time, he'd probably read Kanda's sour expression as another sign of aggression. In another time, he'd reacted in far different way. Probably trying to gouge an eye out of the other man.
Kanda shook his head and walked. He moved pass Allen, getting through the arched door.
Allen blushed. He'd had every reason to believe the man had just read what Allen had in mind.
"Follow me," Kanda said.
Allen turned to face the retreating back of Kanda. His mouth opened and closed again, thinking better of his reply.
---
It didn't solve anything. Really. It didn't.
Sex didn't solve anything. If anything, it complicated things.
"Your elbow, ugh, hurts me," Allen rasped out. He was face down against the mattress. Kanda's hand held the back of his neck, a force that made him unable to lift his head more than half an inch from the sheets. One of Kanda's elbow dig into the backside of his ribs.
Kanda grunted. He was sitting astride Allen. A solid weight on the back of Allen's thighs. Allen could feel Kanda's dick. A mass of hot furnace against his ass.
Kanda removed his elbow, but kept his hold on Allen's neck steady. It'd probably left a bruise. Something that Allen could felt for days after.
Allen whined at the thought. He wanted. Wanted. Now.
"And, well, if you will, can you move along? I can take over if you feel inadequate," Allen taunted. He knew how to push Kanda's button. How to make the man do what he wanted.
Allen smirked when he heard Kanda's growl.
---
After, they lay on the sheets, sweaty and exhausted. Allen was halfway back into sleep when Kanda nudged him to move away a little.
"I can't sleep with you clinging to my side like a barnacle," he said, the ever romantic.
Allen snorted and moved away.
He knew closing his eyes would make him go back to his dream. Sex didn't solve anything. Neither did another warm body in his bed. Really. It was him. He was broken inside. For a time, body contact and a family connection with the people in Black Order healed him. But it was no longer enough.
But this sleep, comfortable and warm, lulled by extertion and release, in the breaking dawn was worth a try. If only so that he could look at Lenalee in the eye and said that he overslept that day.