Curiosity killed the victim, not the cat. (D.Gray-man; Kanda/Allen)
Title: Curiosity killed the victim, not the cat.
Artist: dancevdragon
Rating: PG
Warnings: Hand licking.
Summary: A little bickering, and a curious inspection.
Prompt: Allen/Kanda: Collarbone fetish - Clothes are always casualties in battles
A/N: A day later, sorry about that.
It had been an unexpected side effect. Allen hadn’t imagined that when he called upon his innocence to reach greater heights of power that half of his coat would burn up. After the battles that had followed, he’d been shocked to see Kanda’s coat had done the same. Rabi and Crowley had escaped with their coats intact, and Rinali had admitted hers was mostly burned up. It made him wonder what would happen next time they had a major battle.
Would someone lose a pair of pants? Was it just coats that seemed to be sacrificed every time? Or would Komui seek to kill them next time because- He stopped that train of thought right there and smacked himself. But there was really nothing better to do than to ponder on this subject. Well there was Kanda giving him a funny look from the other medical ward bed. But he wasn’t paying attention to that right now.
“Beansprout.” Honestly, were those uniforms as sturdy as they claimed? “Oi.” He tilted his head to the side and winced at the stabbing pain from his neck. Come to think of it, what would his next uniform look like? Would it be the same as his last one? “BEANSPROUT!” Allen jumped this time and shot the other exorcist a glare. “What?!” He would have whined at the pain moving caused if it wasn’t for his pride.
He would not look weak in front of Kanda. The feeling was mutual, but he could see how much it cost Kanda to sit up straight. Kanda narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward slightly, doing everything to look imitating. “Shut up.” He growled quietly and Allen blinked in confusion. “But I didn’t say anything.”
The other boy narrowed his eyes until they were dark slits, before he snorted. “You’ve been muttering to yourself this entire fucking time. So shut the hell up.” Allen looked abashed at this input before he puffed up while raising his head defiantly. “I was not.” It was a childish retort and he didn’t care. There was no such thing as maturity when it came to an argument with Kanda. He wasn’t above name calling, violence, or low blow insults.
Besides they were both temporarily crippled at the moment, what the hell was the swordsman going to do? He regretted thinking that a second later when Kanda proved they weren’t as crippled at they appeared to be. Every action was like wading in acid, but he still was swinging his fist. They grappled, gripping each other’s hands, and trying to force the other one to yield. The cursed boy didn’t have the home field advantage that he used to possess in spades.
Nor was the older boy able to use his usual speed and agility to give him an edge. For once they were fairly evenly matched as they kicked, scratched, hissed, and rolled off the bed onto the floor. Kanda bared his teeth in a feral snarl and Allen returned it as he tried to scratch Kanda’s stomach with his feet. Somehow, during their rough houses and ripping stitches free, he was pinned to the floor, his shirt riding dangerously low on his shoulders. He cursed and abused the King’s English as he struggled to get the heavier boy off of him.
Kanda was staring at something for some reason, his eyes widened slightly. The white haired exorcist tilted his head to the side to see what caught the other’s interest before he stilled. All of the innocence’s markings were exposed. He shut his eyes as he waited for an insult. It took him by surprise to feel cool fingers tracing the red arrow like marks.
Allen dared to crack open one grey eye out of curiosity.
He swallowed as he studied Kanda’s face. What about his arm was so fascinating to him? The dark haired exorcist murmured something Allen couldn’t quite catch while tracing a mark slowly with his fingers. He frowned thoughtfully when he reached Allen's collarbone. He’d seen the arm before, but the red skin had been warped and cracked. It had been an eyesore that hadn’t seemed to be part of the boy that used it.
This one met his approval. He’d seen its power briefly though not what it was fully capable of. While he had raised an eyebrow at the new appearance of the invoked state, he couldn’t deny how it suited Allen. This strange red arm that was far smoother and more refined matched the kid perfectly as well. It took him a moment to realize silence had fallen and the boy was staring at him. He scowled at him before a crazy and vivid idea dawned.
It would shut the other up for a while and satisfy this weird fascination he seemed to be having with him. He was supposed to loath and detest the soft hearted fool, not inspect his arm as if it was a new blade to wield. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Kanda stared at the thin arm that supposedly according to the idiot rabbit could transform into a large sword. Allen was still wondering what the hell Kanda was doing, but trying not to ask.
He felt vulnerable pinned to the floor and his arm gone over like this. It felt like some of his stitches had been pulled and more than a few bandages ripped. So it was a rather unpleasant experience. The added weight of another person on him was really not helping either. The boy chocked this up to another case of bad luck. Or possibly torture, because really nothing else made sense, nothing that he could really think of. He was also getting hungry.
Finally, after minutes of stillness, he spoke up. “Kanda, what the hell are you doing?” But the other boy wasn’t paying attention to him. Kanda lifted up Allen’s red hand and studied the glowing green cross on the back of it for a moment. It was interesting and why the hell he was doing this, he had no idea. He was firmly blaming the pain killers and Allen himself for this.
He frowned before sliding his tongue over the red skin. It tingled slightly and the skin was just as smooth as it looked. Huh. Kanda let go and walked off after that, leaving the boy to himself. Allen stared at his hand, his grey eyes wide with shock. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what he’d just seen and felt. Even recalling it made him shudder like he had when that warm, wet tongue had swept over the back of his hand.
He laid there, that image branded into his mind while his cheeks slowly heated. It was a late reaction. He couldn’t find it in him to care about that. The white haired boy was too busy trying to squash the yearning that whispered and coiled just out of the range of conscious thought. He wondered what it would have felt like if Kanda had licked the marking right along the collarbone. Or if he’d have bit his han-
Allen forced those thoughts to a shuddering halt before they caused him embarrassment. There were some days he really hated Kanda more than he usually did.
Artist: dancevdragon
Rating: PG
Warnings: Hand licking.
Summary: A little bickering, and a curious inspection.
Prompt: Allen/Kanda: Collarbone fetish - Clothes are always casualties in battles
A/N: A day later, sorry about that.
It had been an unexpected side effect. Allen hadn’t imagined that when he called upon his innocence to reach greater heights of power that half of his coat would burn up. After the battles that had followed, he’d been shocked to see Kanda’s coat had done the same. Rabi and Crowley had escaped with their coats intact, and Rinali had admitted hers was mostly burned up. It made him wonder what would happen next time they had a major battle.
Would someone lose a pair of pants? Was it just coats that seemed to be sacrificed every time? Or would Komui seek to kill them next time because- He stopped that train of thought right there and smacked himself. But there was really nothing better to do than to ponder on this subject. Well there was Kanda giving him a funny look from the other medical ward bed. But he wasn’t paying attention to that right now.
“Beansprout.” Honestly, were those uniforms as sturdy as they claimed? “Oi.” He tilted his head to the side and winced at the stabbing pain from his neck. Come to think of it, what would his next uniform look like? Would it be the same as his last one? “BEANSPROUT!” Allen jumped this time and shot the other exorcist a glare. “What?!” He would have whined at the pain moving caused if it wasn’t for his pride.
He would not look weak in front of Kanda. The feeling was mutual, but he could see how much it cost Kanda to sit up straight. Kanda narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward slightly, doing everything to look imitating. “Shut up.” He growled quietly and Allen blinked in confusion. “But I didn’t say anything.”
The other boy narrowed his eyes until they were dark slits, before he snorted. “You’ve been muttering to yourself this entire fucking time. So shut the hell up.” Allen looked abashed at this input before he puffed up while raising his head defiantly. “I was not.” It was a childish retort and he didn’t care. There was no such thing as maturity when it came to an argument with Kanda. He wasn’t above name calling, violence, or low blow insults.
Besides they were both temporarily crippled at the moment, what the hell was the swordsman going to do? He regretted thinking that a second later when Kanda proved they weren’t as crippled at they appeared to be. Every action was like wading in acid, but he still was swinging his fist. They grappled, gripping each other’s hands, and trying to force the other one to yield. The cursed boy didn’t have the home field advantage that he used to possess in spades.
Nor was the older boy able to use his usual speed and agility to give him an edge. For once they were fairly evenly matched as they kicked, scratched, hissed, and rolled off the bed onto the floor. Kanda bared his teeth in a feral snarl and Allen returned it as he tried to scratch Kanda’s stomach with his feet. Somehow, during their rough houses and ripping stitches free, he was pinned to the floor, his shirt riding dangerously low on his shoulders. He cursed and abused the King’s English as he struggled to get the heavier boy off of him.
Kanda was staring at something for some reason, his eyes widened slightly. The white haired exorcist tilted his head to the side to see what caught the other’s interest before he stilled. All of the innocence’s markings were exposed. He shut his eyes as he waited for an insult. It took him by surprise to feel cool fingers tracing the red arrow like marks.
Allen dared to crack open one grey eye out of curiosity.
He swallowed as he studied Kanda’s face. What about his arm was so fascinating to him? The dark haired exorcist murmured something Allen couldn’t quite catch while tracing a mark slowly with his fingers. He frowned thoughtfully when he reached Allen's collarbone. He’d seen the arm before, but the red skin had been warped and cracked. It had been an eyesore that hadn’t seemed to be part of the boy that used it.
This one met his approval. He’d seen its power briefly though not what it was fully capable of. While he had raised an eyebrow at the new appearance of the invoked state, he couldn’t deny how it suited Allen. This strange red arm that was far smoother and more refined matched the kid perfectly as well. It took him a moment to realize silence had fallen and the boy was staring at him. He scowled at him before a crazy and vivid idea dawned.
It would shut the other up for a while and satisfy this weird fascination he seemed to be having with him. He was supposed to loath and detest the soft hearted fool, not inspect his arm as if it was a new blade to wield. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Kanda stared at the thin arm that supposedly according to the idiot rabbit could transform into a large sword. Allen was still wondering what the hell Kanda was doing, but trying not to ask.
He felt vulnerable pinned to the floor and his arm gone over like this. It felt like some of his stitches had been pulled and more than a few bandages ripped. So it was a rather unpleasant experience. The added weight of another person on him was really not helping either. The boy chocked this up to another case of bad luck. Or possibly torture, because really nothing else made sense, nothing that he could really think of. He was also getting hungry.
Finally, after minutes of stillness, he spoke up. “Kanda, what the hell are you doing?” But the other boy wasn’t paying attention to him. Kanda lifted up Allen’s red hand and studied the glowing green cross on the back of it for a moment. It was interesting and why the hell he was doing this, he had no idea. He was firmly blaming the pain killers and Allen himself for this.
He frowned before sliding his tongue over the red skin. It tingled slightly and the skin was just as smooth as it looked. Huh. Kanda let go and walked off after that, leaving the boy to himself. Allen stared at his hand, his grey eyes wide with shock. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what he’d just seen and felt. Even recalling it made him shudder like he had when that warm, wet tongue had swept over the back of his hand.
He laid there, that image branded into his mind while his cheeks slowly heated. It was a late reaction. He couldn’t find it in him to care about that. The white haired boy was too busy trying to squash the yearning that whispered and coiled just out of the range of conscious thought. He wondered what it would have felt like if Kanda had licked the marking right along the collarbone. Or if he’d have bit his han-
Allen forced those thoughts to a shuddering halt before they caused him embarrassment. There were some days he really hated Kanda more than he usually did.