Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The dead heat of July is not unfamiliar to him, though something about this is different.

When he was in Mali with Cross, the heat was somewhat like this - oppressive, suffocating, intolerable - and while walking down the river leaves him reminiscent of Bamako, he could never confuse the two cities for one another. 

No, New Orleans is a place all its own. Why they’re here, Allen doesn’t know; one day, they got up from their beds on the eastern coast and Cross shoved him in an airplane with no explanation. When they arrived, he was unceremoniously introduced to his new home - a small three bedroom house not far from the French Quarter.  It’s nice, in some ways. There’s a small back garden, a porch with a swing, his own bed to sleep in. It’s unsettling in others. The way the old floorboards creak, the AC that rattles when it kicks on, the never-ending hum of the fridge. 

Still, it’s the first place he’s called home in years. Cross was never one to settle, and there’s a comfort in knowing you have somewhere to return to at the end of the day. 

Just a few days after they arrived, Cross told him he’d be going to school - school! - of all places. Allen had never really been in a school, not for long. Cross always said he was home schooled, but by that he really meant self-educated. One had to be smart to be strong, and Allen had to be strong to get by, and so there were always long trips to magnificent libraries wherever they went, or trips to thrift stores for textbooks and literature. While he never had a long term teacher, he liked to think he was decently intelligent. 

In the end, though, New Orleans ended up being true to its reputation. He found NOCCA, a school with an emphasis in the performing arts. He assumed he’d have no chance of getting into any school with his history, but their only requirement for entry is an audition. 

If there was ever something he’d had a teacher for...it was piano. 

Cross didn’t care where he went, as long as it was somewhere, and assured him he’d have no issues with enrollment. Allen assumed he’d just...forged some documentation - not something he’d think his godfather would be above doing, and not too long after he applied he received a letter in the mail that his audition would be in three weeks. 

Now he walks along the banks of the Mississippi, wiping dampness from his bangs, cursing his left arm for making him wear long sleeves in the summer. He wonders what he’ll play for his audition - something classical? Jazz? Blues? Contemporary? What would they like? He could play Mana’s…no…no, not that. 

It would showcase piano and vocals, but he hasn’t been able to play it without his voice cracking and fingers trembling since he lost his father. 

He could pick a song from his one of his favorite movies, but perhaps that’s too indulgent? He gets one shot. He should pick something that’ll impress them - still, he’s been told he plays the songs that mean the most to him the most. 

Perhaps he will then. 

He stops at a park that runs along the bank, sitting on a bench and watching the barges that slowly move down the river. His train of thought rolls around to their purpose for being here and settling down, but he forces it away. Cross has never told him anything, and this is no different. He gets a different answer every time. 

“I like the seafood.” 

“There’s a house in New Orleans they call the rising sun.” 

“Hot dudes.” 

“Hot chicks.” 

“Titties. Wait, does that count as hot chicks?” 

“It’s just so magical this time of year.” 

And many other bullshit answers, all said in a complete deadpan tone. Cross isn’t going to tell him, and maybe that would be worrying if it wasn’t always like this. Still, they’ve never had an actual house before. Apartments, sure. Hostels, of course. But a house? That implies Cross intends to be here longer than a month. 

A black cat jumps up onto the bench next to him, mewling, and he flinches in shock before a smile settles on his face. “Hey,” he murmurs, scratching under the cat’s chin. “Who are you?” 

A tag gleams in the sunlight, and he catches it between his fingers. “Mimi,” he grins. “Cute name for a cute cat.” He pets her, laughing softly as she nuzzles into his hand - what an affectionate animal. “Where’s your owner, huh? Are you supposed to be running around?” 

She mewls again, bumping the top of her head against his fingers, but he checks her tag again. The back of it is blank - no address. His eyebrows furrow. “You’re not lost, are you? Do you live near here?” 

He knows the cat won’t answer, but he wishes she could. As if responding in another way, however, her ears perk up and she goes still, listening for something. It doesn’t take long for her to turn around and bolt off. 

Allen’s lips purse, worried for the cat, but maybe she’s headed home for dinner. Animals are usually pretty good at finding their way back home when they’re hungry. 

He looks out at the water again. He has Timcampy at home, but Tim is his only real form of company. Cross really can’t count. He’s barely around, and when he is he’s usually a nuisance. He misses England, not for the first time - even though it’s been several years, it was the last time he felt…

He shakes his head and stands. He’s getting hungry himself. He should try to find his way back home, too. 

At the behest of his guardian, Allen goes to the local grocery the next day to stock their house and grab cigarettes. Now that he’s 18, he has no argument for Cross against it, not that that ever stopped him before. He remembers being fifteen years old and playing cards for packs of cigarettes, because it was the only way he could really get them and Cross didn’t take no as an answer. At least now it’s just a couple of bucks. 

Still, he sorta misses high stakes poker. A pack of cigarettes against a pure silver coat button he always carried in his pocket. Low reward, but also low risk when you’re an expert at cheating. 

As he peruses the vegetables, reminiscing about a particular trip to Rome, he notices a man. 

Not just any man. Allen has seen a lot of people in his life, and this one is in the top 1% looks wise. He holds an onion in his hands, turning it over and presumably looking for bruising and coloration, with a very stern and focused look on his face. Dark, dark hair falls down his back while sharp black eyes narrow as if he has some personal vendetta against onions, and Allen can’t help but laugh. 

This draws the narrowed expression to him. 

Allen’s laugh fades into a more polite chuckle. He’s chuffed, honestly, tickled at this gorgeous person who is so obviously upset at the vegetable in his hands. “Sorry,” he mutters, covering his smile with his hand. The not fucked up one. “I just...you were concentrating so hard on that onion.” 

The guy looks to the onion, and then back to Allen once more. He doesn’t look happy, and confirms that by saying, “Mind your own business, Beansprout.” 

Allen just blinks for a moment, too shocked to really respond, but then feels the prickle of irritation crawl up his spine. “It’s not very nice to insult someone you’ve never met.” 

The man makes a mocking expression. “It’s not very nice to laugh at someone you just met,” he returns angrily before dropping the onion among its other onion companions. “Beansprout,” he adds for good measure. 

Allen purses his lips. A pretty face, but an ugly personality. He juggles his warring feelings - give in to aggravation and fight back, or take a step back and let it go to keep his polite mask up? He thinks it wouldn’t hurt to just make one more little comment. “At least try to come up with a better insult next time. If the only thing you have against me is my height, you aren’t looking close enough.” Allen has been called far, far worse than short before. 

“Next time, huh?” Onion Man asks. “Is this your usual grocery store?”

The genuine question shocks Allen into an honest answer. “It’s my first time here, but it’s the closest to my house so it will be.” 

Onion Man sneers. “Then there won’t be a next time.” He gives Allen a once over, eyes skimming over the scar on his face, his white blond hair, the long sleeves in summer, leaving Allen with a growing feeling of discomfort. He doesn’t like being appraised, but it's clear he’s rising to the bait to come up with a new insult. Finally, the guy settles on, “There’s a million groceries I can go to that wont have you there.” A pause. “Beansprout.” 

Allen isn’t sure if this man is too slow to come up with a new insult, or has enough tact to not mention anything else, but he sighs and lets it go. “My name is Allen. If you can’t come up with anything else, you can at least call me Allen.” 

He gets a smirk in response, cock-sure and amused. “And why should I care to remember the name of some little kid with a stupid accent?” He shakes his hair, bangs brushing his forehead and cheeks, ponytail swishing behind him. Something in his expression is...patronizing. 

“I’m eighteen,” Allen returns, bristling. “And I’m from England! Ugh, you know what? Whatever, Onion Man-”

“-Onion Man?!”

“Why should I care to ask the name of someone who’s such an...an…” 

He holds back. He’s in a grocery store, he doesn’t know this person. Maybe some habits die hard, he hasn’t been this easy to rile up in years, but it still isn’t the place to do this. He’ll never see the guy again, anyway. 

“Fine, Pretty Boy, then.”

Pretty Boy snarls. “I don’t have time for this,” he snaps, and then turns on his heel, leaves his grocery cart where it was, and stomps out of the store. What a child...and he had the gall to call Allen a little kid. 

He knows he looks young, but he likes to think he doesn’t look that young. He swallows the anger swirling around in his gut and counts to five before letting out a breath and going back to his vegetable shopping. He makes sure to get an onion, too. 

The piano Allen keeps at the house is less of a piano and more of a small keyboard. It amounts to the same thing, but it's certainly different from playing on something with all eighty-eight wider, weighted keys. It’ll be nice if he gets into NOCCA; with some research, he’s learned they have dozens of practice rooms with always well tuned uprights, but for now this is all he has. 

He printed out the sheet music for his audition song after a quick trip to the library and made sure to make all of his notations and edits as quickly as he could while still staying thorough. He’s not really vocally trained, but he knows he has a decent voice and how to at least make it work for him. 

So he practices. He’s played the song before, but more simply, more upbeat, and it was just instrumental. If he wants to impress the NOCCA faculty, he’s gonna have to do better than simple, he’s going to have to dig deep and make it meaningful.

He doesn’t have much else to do with his time right now, anyway. The only interactions he’s even had outside of Cross and Tim were with a cat and a pretty boy, and neither of them were really socially satisfying (the cat might have beaten Pretty Boy, though). 

Somehow, he still thinks of them both, wondering if Mimi got home safe, and if his grocery companion really does intend to find another grocery to go to. Does he live nearby, or was he just passing through? Allen assumes he lives nearby, based on what he said, but who knows. He’ll likely not see either of them again either way.

For dinner, he cooks - as he usually does. Even if Cross knew how to do something as simple as scramble an egg, he’d consider it a waste of his time, so that leaves Allen to make sure they’re fed. If he didn’t, his guardian would likely live off cigarettes and booze, and Allen would starve to death. At least this way he can make whatever portion sizes he wants, and Cross won’t die of malnutrition. 

He wants to learn the local food eventually, but for now decides to settle on something familiar to him - cottage pie. Cross will find a way to complain about anything he makes anyway, and cottage pie is definitely something he’d consider a comfort food for him. 

When dinner is ready, he calls for his guardian. While he did set the table, as usual Cross just picks up his plate and heads to the couch to flip on the television. Allen sighs, but is unsurprised. It works out, anyway. He flips open the textbook he’d found earlier on German, the language he plans to elect to take since he’s vaguely proficient in it, and brushes up as he eats. 

After dinner, he heads to his bedroom and goes to bed early, once again attempting to divert his thoughts away from where he doesn’t want them. He’s been doing that a lot lately, but letting loneliness get to him isn’t going to matter in the end. There’s nothing he can really do about it. 

“Let’s go shopping.”

Allen isn’t really sure if he heard correctly, so he asks his guardian to repeat himself. 

“I said,” Cross grumbles around a cigarette. “Let’s go shopping.” 

Allen is worried. “You have never, and I mean literally never ever, asked to go shopping with me. I don’t think you’ve ever even gone by yourself. Why do you need me?” Genuinely, he can’t think of any time in which Cross has ever asked to spend time together, let alone for an errand. “Are you dying? Are you fatally ill?”

Cross growls at him. “I’m not dying, idiot godchild of mine.” 

“Then I’m confused. You’ll have to enlighten me as to what is wrong with you.”

“Nothing is wrong with me!” Cross throws his hands up. “Maybe I just want to spend a day with my darling , well-mannered godchild.” 

He is obviously being sarcastic. Allen can’t even bring himself to be irritated - he’s just so confused. “Are you going to take me to an abandoned building and kill me? Or, wait, is this about some debt? You need me to get you fast cash?”

Cross puts a hand on the nape of his neck and guides Allen towards the front door. Allen puts up no resistance, still beside himself with shock, and climbs into Cross’s old sports car when they get to it. It takes a while, where Allen collects his thoughts and all the possibilities, before his guardian speaks again. “Met a woman,” he says simply. “Women like expensive things.” 

That makes some sense. “Why do you need me there? I don’t know a thing about what women like. It’s not like you’re the world’s foremost model on how to treat potential lovers.” 

Cross gives him a sideways glance from the driver’s seat. “Gotta teach you how to get yourself a girlfriend one of these days, or you’re gonna be a thorn in my side forever. Or a boyfriend, whatever your little gay ass wants.” 

Allen opens his mouth to retort, then snaps it shut. He used to try to fight Cross whenever he made comments like that, but has since learned it only leads to more teasing. 

At one point in his life, he was concerned with labeling himself. Women are pretty - they’re soft, and they tend to smell good and wear cute clothes. But men have their appeals as well. Like Pretty Boy from the grocery store. 

He frowns. Maybe if the man keeps his mouth shut, anyway. 

Besides, as much as Cross teases him, Allen has almost definitely seen men leaving his bedroom in the middle of the night before. If Cross is anything, he certainly isn’t the kind of person that looks down on love or sex. 

They ride the rest of the way in silence. He has no idea where they’re going and it does no good to question Cross further. Even if there is some other reason for this trip, he won’t know. 

They pull into a parking lot a little after lunch, and as Allen gets out of the car he sees a large sign labeled Riverwalk Shopping Center above a rather long and winding set of buildings.

He follows his godfather inside, sticking close behind and making sure to stomp out his cigarette for him as he tosses it to the ground. They have to climb a flight of steps to get to the entrance, but once they’re in Allen can’t tell where to even look at first. It’s all indoors and air conditioned, which is nice. On each side of them are stores of all kinds - expensive handbags, candies and chocolates, toy stores, kitchenware. Anything a person could want. 

“I’m going to go this way,” Cross tells him, throwing a thumb over his shoulder towards the left set of shops. “You go the other way. The food court is down there and I don’t want to hear you bitching about you being hungry while we look around.” He does know Allen well, but he supposes that isn’t surprising after seven years of having to pay to feed him. “I’ll text you when it’s time for you to learn your first lesson. No godson of mine should be a virgin at eighteen. It’s a damn crime.” 

Allen flushes, indignant, and doesn’t respond. He turns on his heel and storms away, unwilling to listen to Cross admonish him for his lack of sexual exploits. It’s unfair of him to do so, anyway. It’s not like they’ve ever even stayed anywhere long enough for Allen to date anyone, and he isn’t like Cross. He’s not going to just have one night stands in every city they end up in. 

By the time he gets to the food court, he feels a little less angry. Partly because of the anticipation of lunch, and partly because Cross isn’t completely wrong. Maybe there was never time for companionship, but that doesn’t mean Allen has never wished for it. 

Subdued, he finds a hamburger joint and gets in line, silently people watching as he slowly queues along. There’s really all sorts here. As diverse as New York, but more contained. As loud as Dubai, but less claustrophobic. He could get used to this, despite the quick upheaval the move caused. If they stay long enough, maybe he could even try to make some sort of life here - at least for a little while. 

Once he has his food he has some trouble finding seating inside, likely due to the offensive heat outside. He sees a boardwalk through clear glass doors that overlooks the Mississippi and sighs - sitting in the heat is better than not sitting at all. 

He’s chosen his seat and gets through his first burger when he suddenly hears a boisterous, barking laugh. He turns his head, eyes settling on a pretty young girl, probably around his age, with shoulder length green hair and startling purple eyes. Her coloration is as weird as his is, and he feels immediately drawn to that, even more than her beautiful features. Is her hair dyed, is she wearing contacts, or is it all natural? He wants to ask, to speak with her, but even if he could get the courage to do it, he’s stopped by the addition of a second person. 

A tall guy, with bright red hair and a distinctive eyepatch. Someone also different. Allen doesn’t know these people at all, but they seem to be having fun and comfortable with each other, so he doesn’t want to intrude, despite how interested he is in them. The girl leans over the railing, almost bending her body in half to look over to the water, and the redhead cackles before doing the same. He teeters almost dangerously, but he’s so tall that his feet stay firmly on the ground, while the girl just appears to have perfect balance. They speak about something and she laughs again, loud enough to cross the ocean back to England, but she sounds so happy that it’s more infectious than annoying. 

“Kanda, give me fifty cents for the binoculars!” She asks, giggling and righting herself on the correct side of the railing. 

Allen is left stupefied by what he assumes to be the final addition to the group. “Fuck no,” Pretty Boy - Kanda, apparently, says. 

“Please?” The girl implores with big, bright eyes and folded hands. 

“Fine then, okay.” But he pauses and doesn’t move. She looks mildly hopeful before he speaks again. “Changed my mind. Still fuck no.”

She pouts, turning to the redhead. “Lavi?” She whimpers sadly, turning puppy dog eyes on him. 

Lavi, presumably the redhead’s name, chuckles. “Sure, Lenalee.” He reaches into his pocket and fishes around for a second before pulling out a handful of change. The girl picks through it to find two quarters before putting it in the binoculars to look across the river. 

This is when he is finally addressed, likely because he is an extremely suspicious and creepy person watching them. “See something you like, Handsome?” Lavi calls to him, smirking and shoving his hands in his pockets casually.

Allen knows his entire face turns as red as his scar, feels the heat in his cheeks, and turns his head around to look at his food. 

“Aw, cute,” the redhead coos. It’s a moment before Allen notices the chair across from him getting pulled out and the one named Lavi plops down. “What’s your name? And why so creepy? If you wanna ask me out, just do it.”

Allen flushes again. He knows the man in front of him is teasing him, but he can’t help it. Most people barely approach him because of his appearance. He’s not used to being spoken to like this. He chances a look back at Pretty Boy to find glaring dark eyes trained on him before he whips his head back to Lavi. 

“Ah, apologies,” Allen murmurs. “I was just startled. You seemed to be having fun. I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Lenalee does have a laugh heard ‘round the world,” Lavi nods. 

“Hey! I resent that!” She calls, bounding over. Once she’s in front of Allen, however, she holds her hand out. It’s small and delicate, but when he takes it her grip is surprisingly strong. “My name’s Lenalee. Are you here by yourself?”

He considers his answer before he says it. “Somewhat...my godfather is shopping right now. And I’m Allen. Walker. ” He doesn’t know why he gave them his full name, he feels like an idiot, but they don’t seem put off at all. 

Kanda still hasn’t walked over to them, and Allen can’t bare himself another glance. He’s not holding a grudge, isn’t still angry, but also isn’t keen to start an argument around who he assumes are Kanda’s friends. 

“Cute accent!” Lenalee gushes, and Lavi nods enthusiastically. “It’s nice to meet you, Allen.”

“Likewise,” he returns with a nod, feeling slightly more comfortable. He’s used to comments on his accent, so doesn’t feel a need to comment on it. People get used to it after a while. 

Kanda takes this exact moment to intrude, however. 

“You fucking stalkin’ me, Beansprout?”

Allen bristles, twisting his body around to glare at the offensive man still hanging around by the binoculars. “I already explained what I’m doing here,” He snaps back. Then stops himself. He didn’t mean to do that in front of Lenalee and Lavi. 

He turns back to them just in time to see Lavi start cracking up laughing and slapping a hand down on the table. Using the other, he mimics wiping tears of laughter away. “Oh man,” Lavi manages in between cackles. “Oh man, oh man. That’s so rich. I love it!” He doesn’t explain further, so Lenalee does. 

She pulls an extra chair over to the table to sit next to them. “I think Lavi’s excited to see someone sticking up to Kanda.”

“Usually I’m the only one with a death wish,” Lavi says, still laughing. “Man, this is so good. Yu, what superb and intellectual response do you have for our new English lad?” 

Allen can’t help but swell with a tiny bit of happiness and hopefulness at Lavi’s insinuation that he’s already sort of been accepted as a friend, but that’s squashed as he realizes that Kanda is their friend, too. 

Lenalee cuts in before Kanda can retort. “Do you guys know each other?”

“Ah, sort of,” Allen replies sheepishly, embarrassed at his outburst. “We met at the grocery store a few days ago.”

“Whaaaat?” Lavi asks. “This is totally just like a rom com I watched the other day. Did you two reach for the same thing and your hands brushed? And then, then you fall in love at first sight, right?!” 

Kanda growls, viciously. “Shut up, Eyepatch!”

Allen exhales, finding enough space in between aggravation to smile. “He looked like he wanted to murder an onion. It was just so funny I had to laugh.”

“And you survived ?” Lavi asks, voice full of wonder. “Wow, he must really like you.”

A cigarette lighter knocks Lavi right in the forehead, leaving the redhead groaning as he rubs the spot. “Lavi, stop antagonizing Kanda,” Lenalee sighs. “He’s right though. It’s impressive you got away.”

“More like he got away,” Allen snorts. “He stomped away when he couldn’t come up with anything besides calling me short. 

“Wait, he’s the one who disengaged?” Lenalee asks out of shock. Lowly, she mumbles to herself, “Maybe he does like him.” 

“Oh shut up, all of you!” Kanda snaps. “If I had another cigarette lighter to throw I would. The kid was so annoying I just decided to go to another store is all.” 

“You can’t possibly be that much older than me,” Allen returns, rolling his eyes. He pops a french fry in his mouth. 

Lavi nods, recovering from the red mark now prominently in the middle of his forehead. “Oh, no, yeah, Yu and I are both twenty-”

“Stop using my first name!”

“And Lenalee is nineteen.”

So Kanda is his last name then. Why address a friend by their last name like that? “I’m eighteen,” Allen offers. 

“Oh man! Great! Kanda, he’s not jailbait. Great news for you!”

Kanda must find a pebble or something on the ground, because then a small pebble pelts Lavi on the head again. 

“Stop that!” 

“So, Allen, do you have to go back to your godfather now? Or do you want to walk around with us for a bit?” Lenalee asks. “Don’t worry about Kanda,” she goes on as he groans. “He grows on you.”

He checks his phone and doesn’t see any messages from Cross, so he concedes. “Alright,” he grins. “I’m still new here so I could use the guides.”

Lavi grins at him, placing a cheek on his palm and leaning on it. “You couldn’t find a better tour if you tried.”

The tour ends up really just consisting of the Riverwalk itself and the connecting plaza. Lavi points out a large building with a mural of sea life on it, educating Allen about how it used to be the aquarium before it got moved, and Lenalee excitedly explains the ferry system that docks nearby. Kanda trails behind, looking rather unhappy and uninterested, but by no means walking away. Allen finds himself a little intrigued by Pretty Boy, wondering why someone so antagonistic even spends time with people as nice as Lenalee and Lavi, but maybe it’s not his place. Who knows why people are friends, or drawn to each other. 

By the time he gets a text message from Cross, it simply says that it’s time to go. Allen sighs, resigned. Cross either forgot the excuse he gave Allen, or just didn’t care to make good on it, but either way, he knows it's time to go home. 

“I have to leave now,'' he tells them as he finishes up an ice cream he’d stopped to get from a plaza vendor. “Godfather just texted me.” 

“Mmm, quite,” Lavi nods, tone pompous. Allen rolls his eyes, but smiles. 

“Why don’t we exchange numbers?” Lenalee offers, holding her phone out. “I mean, you’re new here, right? I’m sure you could use some friends.” She pauses. “Wait, that didn’t come out right.” 

Kanda takes this opportunity to say something for the first time in a while. With a snarky tone he says, “Oh, I bet he could use some friends alright.”

Allen can’t help the sneer he gives Kanda. “At least I don’t get mine out of pity.” 

“Like I need anyone’s pity,” Pretty Boy returns, snapping and getting right near Allen’s face. Allen’s response is to take the last bit of his ice cream, scoop it up on his spoon, and then smear it down the side of Kanda’s face. 

While Lavi loses it with laughter and Kanda takes time to process what happened, he turns back to Lenalee. “I know what you meant. I’d love that.” 

Lenalee can’t stifle her giggle as she enters Allen’s number into her contacts. His phone is extremely new, so when she sends a text with her’s, Lavi’s and Kanda’s phone number, they’re the first contacts he has besides Cross. He doesn’t plan to ever use Kanda’s, but maybe he could bug him some time if he really needs an outlet. 

By the time he’s ready to go, Kanda has already stalked off, probably to a bathroom to clean up, and Lavi places a hand on Allen’s shoulder. “Don’t let him get to you,” Lavi says, voice full of mirth. “He might seem all tough, but deep down he’s not so bad.” He claps his hand on Allen’s shoulder in a sign of farewell. “See you around, Gov’.” 

Allen shakes his head, smiling. “I can’t really imagine that.” He waves to both of them as he steps away, headed back towards Cross’s car. “See you guys later.” 

Now he just has to make it back to the parking lot without getting lost. 

When they eat dinner that night, Cross sits at the table. Allen is shocked enough by that, but he’s downright floored when Cross actually tries to conversate. “You looked all happy when you got back to the car,” he starts. “Find a cute pair of panties to wear tonight or something?”

Allen easily puts his confusion aside for a strong distaste of what his godfather just said. “You’re repulsive.”

“So I’ve been told,” Cross says happily.

“I met some people. Friends. I think.” 

“Well, good for you. Any of them hot?”

Allen’s initial response is to get defensive, but finds himself saying, “Yeah, all of them.” He’s been around Cross too long.

“Score one for the twelve year old.”

“I’m eighteen ,” he stresses, and really, why is that so hard for people to grasp. He doesn’t look that young! Does he? 

He gets back to eating his chicken when Cross doesn’t say anything else. Once they’re done eating he goes to pick up the plates when his godfather finally finds something else to say. “Really, good for you, kid.”

Allen flushes a bit, not used to anything genuine from his godfather, but Cross sounds sincere. “Well, thank you.”

“They all legal?”

And there he goes, ruining it. Allen wants to lie, just to get Cross from being gross about the people he just met today, but he doesn’t. “Yes, they are all legal,” he concedes, groaning. “Don’t try to sleep with any of them this time, please.”

“Can’t make any promises. What’re their names? Any of them girls?”

This is the first time Cross has spoken during dinner, and this is what they have to speak about? “Lenalee, Lavi, Kanda.” Allen pauses. “Lenalee and Lavi,” he amends.

He’s already putting the plates in the sink when he hears the sound of something loud hitting the dining table. He turns quickly, searching for the source of the sound, and finds that Cross has dropped his glass. Luckily nothing was in it. 

“Really!” Allen exclaims, rushing over and grabbing the glass. Thankfully it didn’t shatter. “Are you already sloshed?”

Cross focuses on checking his shirt for whiskey stains. “What business of that is yours?”

He doesn’t look bothered by anything, but he also doesn’t seem drunk. When he glares at Allen, his eyes are as alert as they usually are when he’s sober, but nothing betrays his real reaction. 

Then he smiles. Allen, the master of fake smiles, knows it's strained. “Go finish your chores now, Dearest .” 

When Cross gets like that, Allen stays out of his way. There’s no sense in arguing. He sounds like a cross between a true parent, and someone ready for murder. Allen has always assumed it was strictly to prove a point - who the guardian is, and who the ward is. 

Allen has never really been allowed to ask questions, and even if he did, he’s never gotten real responses. It shouldn’t still bother him after all these years, but it does.

He hopes one day Cross stops trying to protect him from whatever he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t like the thought of being treated like a child forever. 

He doesn’t see Lenalee or Lavi or even Kanda for the next week or so. He texts Lenalee a bit here and there, Lavi even more, but finds no real time in his schedule to go out beyond his usual errands. True to Kanda’s word, Allen doesn’t even see him at the grocery. 

He’s focused on his audition piece. He knows no one could blame him for this - botching this will mean having to start all over with finding another school, and at what other place could he do what he loves like at NOCCA? 

Even once he’s made sure he could play it a dozen times in a row without a mistake, he plays it a dozen more times. Then he adds in vocals, does it another dozen times. Though he may be single minded, he tells himself over and over again that at least once it’s over he can relax. He gets the one shot, and regardless of how it ends up, it’s all he gets. 

When he finally does see Lenalee again, Lavi nor Kanda are with her. Lavi, he’s learned, is enrolled at a college about an hour west of them, and is there in the city getting housing set up. Kanda, he’s learned, doesn’t go out much at all either way. 

Lenalee is excited when they meet up again, though. Allen finds himself getting a little too hopeful and squashes it. He doesn’t need to be so urgent. He tells himself once more that the fact that they have a house means he has time. 

She lives not too far away, perhaps about a ten minute drive, and picks him up from his house before dragging him to her favorite restaurant - a little Thai place with a menu that reminds him of Bangkok. The menu is bilingual, with lots of authentic dishes, and he settles on just two appetizers and an entree. Lenalee doesn’t have to be put off by his eating habits just yet. 

“What have you been up to?” She asks sweetly, once their drinks arrive. She takes a long sip of hers and then places her chin on both hands and smiles at him. “Are you going to school this semester?”

He nods, playing with his straw wrapper. “I should be. I’m auditioning for NOCCA next week.”

Her mouth gapes in surprise. “No way! Kanda’s older brother went there. He teaches there sometimes, too. What are you going for?”

Allen flushes under her enthusiasm, setting the straw paper aside. “I’m going to be focused on piano. I have to pass the audition first, though.” He pauses, unable to stop himself from asking. “Kanda has brothers?”

Lenalee nods. “Yeah, and his oldest brother plays jazz piano. He’s really good. Do you know what you’re going to audition with yet?”

He nods. “Yeah, I’ve been putting something together.” He pointedly doesn’t tell her what, though, somewhat embarrassed. 

“What day is it?” 

“Thursday.”

“Great, I’ll be there!”

He almost drops the drink he was about to take a sip of. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll be there! My semester doesn’t start until mid-August, anyway. Lavi will be back, too! I’m sure he’ll want to be there. I’ll make sure Kanda comes, too.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Allen exclaims, waving his hands. “You...want to come?”

“Of course! I wanna see you play! And what sort of friend would I be if I didn’t come to support you?”

They’ve only met one other time, but it makes Allen so unbearably happy to hear that she considers him a friend already. Again, he forces down any hopes of more. “I...well I’m flattered.” 

The appetizers are set down on the table, and Allen wastes no time at all scooping a healthy serving of Kai Toon on his plate. “What time is it for? I’ll text the boys.”

He swallows around a large bite of egg and rice. “Oh, uh, one-thirty.”

“Great! I can’t wait!” 

“You really think they’ll wanna come?”

She sputters out a laugh. “Lavi? Yeah, absolutely. Kanda? Eh, he’ll get over it.” She takes a few skewers of chicken satay and munches thoughtfully for a moment. “Really, Lavi meant it. Kanda is...he’s abrasive, but he cares. In his own way. It’s fun to see the two of you together, too. I think he likes a challenge.” She winks at him. 

Allen can’t help but cover his face with his hands in embarrassment. Why does everyone like to tease him. “I think he hates me,” he mumbles from behind his hands. 

“Oh, he doesn’t hate you,” she assures him. “If he hated you, you’d know.”

Allen drops his hands from his face for another bite of food. “He’s awful.”

Lenalee just smiles cheerfully. “Absolutely terrible, I know.” 

Allen huffs out a laugh and decides to move the subject to Lenalee. “What school do you go to?” 

She, in a very unladylike way, bites off a huge chunk of satay and answers him with her mouth full. It’s endearing, if not a little gross. Allen has no right to really speak about polite eating habits, though. “Oh, I’m in college, starting my freshman year. I go to Loyola, it’s a local school.” 

“What are you studying?”

“Humanities; you know, making the world a better place one person at a time.” 

Lenalee is really too good to be true, isn’t she? Beautiful, sweet, friendly, comforting - Allen is glad to have met her. 

They chat through the rest of the meal, Lenalee happily giving him the low-down on her family and friends. He tries to give her an abridged version of his past, too, speaking about the different places he’s been, and giving a somewhat ambiguous explanation of why he lives with his godfather. She doesn’t pry, which is nice. This isn’t the place or time to speak about Mana. 

After dinner, Lenalee swears once more that they’re going to be at his audition next week. As he heads home, he makes sure to keep practicing - wanting to make sure he can give his all for his friends. 

Chapter Text

His audition starts in approximately ten minutes, and his breathing is dangerously close to hyperventilation. 

He doesn’t get stage fright in the conventional sense, but he’s also never played on an actual stage for important people. On top of that, Lenalee confirmed that she, Lavi, and Kanda are all sitting towards the back to watch. He doesn’t want to mess up in front of them, almost as much as he doesn’t want to mess up in front of the faculty judging his performance. 

He exhales, running through everything again. He’s never sung for people before, not anyone except -----

He shakes his head. Except -----

His grip on the edge of the chair he’s standing next to tightens. There, in his memories, a dark figure, smiling at him, proud of him, loving him. It’s so close, it’s so - 

The audition. He has to focus on the audition.

The song he chose is unconventional at best. He could have gone for some impressive Chopin or Beethoven, but he knew deep down that he'd excel in what he loves. He threw his own twist on it, too, trying to embellish on the original enough that it’s obvious he made it his own. 

He looks at the sheet music spread across the table next to him, eyes raking over notes and tempo marks. He can do this. He basically rewrote the song. It took him what feels like dozens of hours to get it down. 

He hopes it's enough to get him into a school just before senior year. His phone buzzes, but he doesn’t look at it. He can’t. It’s probably encouragement from Lenalee, but he doesn’t think that would help right now. He just needs to breathe. Just breathe. 

By the time his ten minutes are up and he’s called to the stage, he thinks he feels decent enough to not violently shake. It helps that with the lighting he can’t see anyone. He just has to assume that the judges are there as well as his friends. 

His eyes land on the white grand piano in the middle of the stage. It’s probably the most beautiful instrument he’s ever seen, and he makes careful, calculated steps towards it, takes a deep breath, and sits on the bench. 

He’s positive it’s in tune, but out of habit he taps a key to listen to it ring through the auditorium. 

This is unlike anything he’s experienced in the past. It was always a piano on the streets, or on his keyboard, or in bars when they would let him in with Cross. This is different. Exhilarating and terrifying. He’s glad he can’t see the seats from where he is. It helps it feel like it’s just him and the piano. 

“Allen Walker,” a voice from beyond the lights says, tone clipped. “Auditioning a little late in the year, are we?”

He swallows. “I just moved here, from England.” It’s only a tiny lie. He did just move here, and he did live in England some time ago. 

The voice hums in acquiescence. “Well, what are you going to audition with today?”

He sets his sheet music on the music rack and takes a breath. Of course they’d have to also be intimidating. “Everybody Wants to Rule the World.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Clearly, the choice is underwhelming. Allen hopes he can show them wrong. He’s taken the synth and fun out from the original song, changed the key, made it something slower, darker, powerful. There’s embellishments, harsh chords, a story, he thinks. The song, like many from the eighties, had a dark message underneath a layer of fun and exuberance. 

Allen thinks the theme of the song fits him well, maybe too well. 

“Begin, then.”

Another breath. He sits straight, rests his fingers on the piano keys, takes inventory of the size of the piano and how different it is from the keyboard he has at home, and then he plays. 

He starts slow. He starts with easy chords, soft vocals, lets himself feel the music. “ Welcome to your life...There’s no turning back.” A heavy, low G minor chord is pressed into the keys. The sound reverberates throughout the room, and he can see images in his mind, the story that develops. There’s a person, alone, living a life they never would have asked for. There’s a half note pause, not a sound from beyond the lights. “ Even while you sleep ,” an embellishment here, as the individual is faced with an unfathomable decision. “ We will find you acting on your best behavior. Turn your back on mother nature. Everybody wants to rule the world .” There is a long 4 beat silence. 

Soft chords again. “ It’s my own design. It’s my own remorse .” That person knows they have no one to blame but themselves, no matter if there was no other option. “ Help me to decide. Help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure. Nothing ever lasts forever! ” Everyone they love is gone. The person traded their loved one’s lives for his, unwittingly. He picks up on the chords as his voice lifts during the last words. Another long 4 beat silence, and he feels more than remembers what comes next, his hands slowly moving down towards a lower octave. 

“ Everybody wants to rule the world. ” Heavy, heavy chords, as he switches the key to something even darker. Death, pain, longing. Everyone has something they desire, something they’ll never have but will always want. Everyone wants the power to turn back time, and right their wrongs. “ There’s a room where the light won’t find you. Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down.” The song bleeds desperation, bleeds despair. He can feel it, every word, every note. He feels them in himself, in his past. He feels them in the pain he’s seen and felt.  “ When they do I’ll be right beside you. So glad we almost made it...so sad we had to fade it.” He feels it in his loss, his loneliness. He feels it in the injustice he’s known. The unfair things he’s had to endure. He knows, knows that everybody wants everything they can’t have, and in the end there’s just the one lonely person left, a product of things he couldn’t control but the guilt that says he could have. “ Everybody wants to rule the world. Everybody wants to rule the world!”  

“Everybody wants to rule...the world… ” The piano stops abruptly, just before he sings the last two words, letting his voice ring out low. When someone wants the world, when they get greedy for happiness, nothing good can come from it. 

He notices his eyes are wet. He hopes they don’t. 

“Walker,” a new voice calls. There is complete silence in the auditorium; his heart thrums in his chest. He wonders if Lenalee and the others are really out there, but his question is answered as the lights are lowered. He sees them towards the back, but doesn’t see much more than tears glistening on Lenalee’s cheeks, Lavi’s unreadable expression, and Kanda’s chest as it quickly moves up and down with heavy breath.

He looks to the panel of judges, who all have varying degrees of surprise on their faces. The one all the way on the left is the one standing, the one who addressed him.

“How old are you?” 

“Eighteen, sir.”

“How long have you been studying piano?”

Allen scratches the back of his neck. “I was taught originally about twelve years ago, but I’ve never been in any specific classes or lessons. It’s just been what I’ve picked up over the years.”

The man on the end looks down at the other two judges, who look back up at him. “I don’t think there needs to be much deliberation. Welcome to NOCCA.”

Lenalee cheers, he hears it ringing through the auditorium even louder than the piano. The judges all look back at her, then at Lavi as he joins the cheering. Kanda is still sitting, watching Allen unblinking. Something in his gaze paralyzes Allen. Foolishly, overwhelmed by the music, he thinks that if their souls could speak through that look, Kanda would be telling him something very important. 

He tears his eyes away, far later than he should have, back to the judges. A smile slowly creeps to his lips as it all sinks in, and as he comes back to himself he feels his breath leaving him in huge, heaving breaths, the cool air drying the wetness on his cheeks, the pride and the power of what just happened. 

He bared his heart, and it worked. Even if they couldn’t know his past, they saw him, and they still accepted him. 

He laughs, relieved, leaning back on the bench and letting himself feel joy, allowing it to replace the pain. 

He’s lived a long time with masks - it feels nice to have let them down for a moment.

“Allen, what the absolute fuck was that?!” Lenalee excitedly yelps, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his shirt. “That was amazing! I didn’t know you could do that!” 

Lavi joins in on the hug. Allen remembers the look on his face when the lights first came up, the expression of curiosity, blank observation, as if Allen was something to impassively figure out. He wonders where it came from, and where it went. “Dude, my guy, you are not human. I swear, that should not have been possible with just a piano and your voice!”

Allen laughs, feeling the trembling in his fingertips as he hugs them both back. “I had to impress them somehow. I didn’t want to just play some Listz and sound like everyone else.”

“Oh, you sure as fuck didn’t!” Lavi assures him. 

They’re all in the lobby of the auditorium building he’d played in. Even Kanda is there, silently watching him. The look in his eyes is gone, replaced by something else. Allen can’t tell what it is. “Good song choice,” is Kanda’s version of congratulations. 

Allen smiles softly, amused and winsome, too pleased to recognize his words as anything but approval. It seems to stop Kanda for a moment, whose mouth opens as if to say something else before he turns around and starts walking to the door. “We can’t be here all day!” He says instead, pushing the door open. “Some of us have more important things to do than watch Beansprout plunk around on the piano.

Lenalee laughs, disengaging, as does Lavi. “Come on, let’s get going. We gotta celebrate.”

“Oh hell no,” Kanda groans, but he waits for them anyway as the three of them follow him out the building. 

They take him down to the Quarter, just for fun. It’s a Thursday afternoon, but it’s still pretty busy; Lenalee and he walk hand in hand down Royal, with Lavi pressing his face against the glass of each and every gallery. More than once they’ve offered to go in, but Lavi’s interest passes as quickly as it came each time. Kanda walks just behind them, silent, brooding almost. It’s funny to Allen. Kanda seems like he’s pouting over something. 

As he feels Lenalee’s hand warm against his glove, he keeps squashing down the thought that they could be more. He needs friends right now, no matter what Cross says. 

They stop the first time at a pet store, where Lavi and Lenalee bounce around from animal to animal, cooing over the kittens and puppies. In the back, there’s a small black cat that reminds him of Mimi, and he wonders again if she ever got home. Kanda leans against the far wall, clearly uninterested in the animals, and this is how Allen knows he’s lacking some vital part of being a human. Who doesn’t like cute, baby animals? 

When they finish at the pet store, they meander around a few other stores, where Allen learns that Louisianians really love themselves. Everything is labeled with fleur-de-Lis and alligators, NOLA branded on clothes and glasses and kitchenware. It doesn’t even seem like it’s for tourists. Genuinely, people just like to remind themselves where they live. 

They happen in a tea and spice store, where Lavi shoves different flavors of tea in his face to ask for opinions. Allen lets him down gently, that in England afternoon tea doesn’t typically consist of anything like hibiscus peach green tea. This, for some reason, greatly disappoints the redhead as he slowly puts back his arm full of loose tea, which includes a black tea flavored like gingerbread. 

He’s still riding the high from earlier. He feels…freer. Like he let go of something heavy, just for a while. As they walk back to their car once they’re done, Lenalee and Lavi lead the way, chatting animatedly, while Kanda and Allen are behind, side by side, and he notices that Kanda hasn’t spoken a word to him directly since the audition. He is  curious, he can admit, about the look in his eye when the lights went down. There really is more to Kanda than what he wants others to see. 

“I know you probably didn’t want to, but thank you for coming today,” Allen starts, cautious.

Kanda grunts in response.

“Very eloquent.”

Kanda clicks his tongue and looks to the side. His hair, in a low braid, sweeps across his back, and Allen easily pushes down a strange desire to touch it. “That girl didn’t give me much of a choice.” 

Allen grins now. Kanda is rude, sure, but he doesn’t seem ready to go for Allen’s throat right now at least. “What, did she drag you out of your cage at home?” 

Kanda’s head snaps towards him, eyes blazing, angry. “You’re one to talk, Freak. What circus did she find you at?”

He can’t help the flinch that causes, though he knows he shouldn’t be so reactive. That was a lifetime ago. He’s over it. He is. 

Kanda seems to know he crossed some line, but he doesn’t apologize. 

“Kanda!” Lenalee barks, turning around and slapping Kanda on the arm. He just glared at her. “That was so mean! Too far!” 

“It’s okay,” Allen tells her, politely. The smile he gives is fake, but acquiescing, meant to reassure, but it has the opposite effect. Lenalee, somehow, sees right through it and frowns. “His small brain gives him a lack of material, so he just goes for the obvious,” he tries. If he acts normal, at least, he can convince them. Right?

Lenalee frowns deeper, then slaps Kanda’s arm again. “Hey, man, don’t listen to him,” Lavi butts in, heavily wrapping an arm around Allen’s shoulders. The weight is slightly comforting. “Yu has never appreciated the good people in his life.” A sharp green eye is locked with Kanda’s. Allen can tell even Lavi isn't pleased. 

“Now, now,” Allen says, ducking away from Lavi and holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “It’s fine. I know he’s an arsehole. I don’t expect much from him.” 

It’s almost like they’ve all been speaking to a wall. Kanda seems angry, but he has no escape to storm off because Lavi and Lenalee block his way on one side, and Allen is now on the other. Kanda doesn’t retort, doesn’t snap, doesn’t seem remorseful, he just seems pissed off. Allen knows if he stepped aside Kanda would walk away, and he wants to, but then they’d have to go find him anyway to get him back to the car. 

“Apologize to him, Kanda.” 

Now this, this startles Kanda. The dark haired man looks at Lenalee as if she’s crazy, and maybe she is. 

“Has Kanda ever apologized before? Can he even pronounce the words?” Allen says, biting. But it’s weak. They all know it’s weak. 

Kanda looks back at Allen, seemingly weighing his options. He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut again. Allen can tell he wants to fight back, Kanda is almost shaking with it, and it’s like he can’t decide. It’s amazing that he’s even considering listening to Lenalee. 

“Can we just get back to the fucking car?” Kanda says, voice low and thin. He decides to just push through the Lenalee/Lavi roadblock, shoulder checking Lavi in the process, and walks at least in the direction towards Lavi’s car. 

“Kanda, wait,” Lenalee calls, going after him, while Lavi turns to Allen, rubbing at his shoulder. 

“You alright, mate?” Lavi asks with a sad smile. “You want a hug?” 

Allen raises an eyebrow, hand going to his left arm. Lavi’s eye tracks the movement, clearly noticing the action, but thankfully doesn’t comment on it. “I’m fine,” he says again, and honestly it’s just nice to see people defending him, upset on his behalf. “Let’s head back to the car so we can go home. It’s been a long day.”

He walks in the direction Lenalee and Kanda ran off in, Lavi trailing close behind. 

That night he gets a text from Kanda. His very first one from the man. 

Sorry, Beansprout, it says, and Allen wonders how much convincing that took Lenalee. Honestly, she may have even typed it and sent it without Kanda’s permission. 

Allen doesn’t really want to respond, so he doesn’t. A moment later another text comes in. I don’t live in a fucking cage, by the way, you fuckin’ asshole.”

Allen rolls his eyes. He’s ready to just keep ignoring Kanda when he stops himself. He’s laying on his bed, Tim chirping sweetly from the pillow next to him, when he realizes that he doesn’t know anything about Kanda. Maybe the comment he made to Kanda was just as hurtful as the one Kanda made to him. Maybe Lavi and Lenalee don’t even know that. 

He feels bad, suddenly. Sometimes, when bickering with someone you don’t really know, you’re going to hit weak points you don’t mean to. It’s not like Kanda knows his backstory either, although he should certainly assume Allen hasn’t been treated nicely due to his appearance, but Allen is used to the word freak - that isn’t really even what got to him. 

The circus comment. That’s the one that felt like a physical blow.

He sits up in his bed, still not ready to respond, unsure of what he would even say, and turns on his television before starting his comfort movie. As the beginning of Dirty Dancing starts, he hugs his knees to his chest and grabs his mobile, staring at the message and wondering what he should do. Does he apologize? He probably should, right? But what else does he say? Kanda doesn’t seem like the type to have genuine conversation. 

He decides to just leave it at, I forgive you, it’s okay. It was just bickering. I’m sorry, too. After a pause, he adds a second text, too, for good measure. Prick. 

Kanda only speaks in insults, Allen thinks. He doesn’t know if it's a defense mechanism or just truly all he has to his personality, but it’s probably the only way to get Kanda’s edges to soften a bit. 

Bitch.

Tosser.

Do you speak anything but Harry Potter?

Allen shakes his head. He should probably be irritated, but he smiles instead. Get back to your cowboy hats and stars and stripes, you Yanky.

Fuckin’ smartass.

I am smart, thank you. Glad you notice superior intellect when you see it.

His grin widens. On the television, Baby arrives at the camp for the first time, and he finds that he really does forgive Kanda, he didn’t just say it. He knows deep down Kanda didn’t really mean anything by it. Nothing more than any of these other insults, anyway.

Go play in traffic.

Ladies first. 

Fuck, comes the first text. The second one follows immediately after. You.

No, thank you. I’m not that desperate.

He can almost imagine Kanda’s growl of irritation. Only because you know you couldn’t even get a hooker to fuck your stupid ass. 

Why are you thinking about my ass? Stop trying to get me to sleep with you. Those pretty words aren’t enough to make me swoon. I’m classier than that.

If I wanted to fuck you, Beansprout, you’d already be underneath me whining like the bitch you are.

Allen yelps and throws his mobile across the room like it’s on fire. His face feels like it is, burning hot and lips trembling. He didn’t think Kanda would be that bold. He certainly doesn’t pull any punches when he’s trying to win a verbal altercation, does he?

The door slams open. Cross is fuming, eyes scanning the room before landing on Allen. “What kind of fucking shit are you getting up to in here?” He must notice Allen’s expression, how red his face still is, because he sneers. “Where’s your little boyfriend, hiding, huh?” Cross makes a show of kneeling down to look below the bed. 

Allen groans and drops his face into his hands. First Kanda, now Cross. “Go away. I just dropped something.”

He peeks through his fingers as Cross looks at the television, sees what’s on, and sneers. “You still like that shit?”

Allen really wishes he had something to throw now. “Patrick Swazye is a gift .”

“And now he’s the wind, so shut it.” 

Allen refuses to admit that was clever, even if it was. 

His phone beeps from its new home on the floor, and Cross peers over at it. “Don’t go fucking breaking my property, kid,” he barks. “Keep it down.”

The door slams shut and Allen looks at his phone for a long moment before slowly getting up from his bed to grab it. If he doesn’t respond to Kanda, it’s going to seem weird, like he was flustered. Which he was, but Kanda doesn’t need to know that. 

Tim chirps, flying circles around his head and then settling on his shoulder as Allen picks up his mobile and glances at the screen. 

Finally got you to shut up, you fuckin’ virgin. 

Allen groans, but knows he has to reply. At least to end it. Leave me alone to watch Dirty Dancing, please. Your vulgar language hurts my sensibilities and I can’t focus on my one joy in life. 

Decent choice, but Flashdance is better. 

Now that makes Allen’s jaw drop. If Kanda ever wanted to leave Allen speechless, this is how he does it. Wait, you have...taste?

The music is good. 

Well, that’s certainly unexpected.

You really listen to more than just death metal? Oh, don’t tell me. You’re a maniac on the floor, aren’t you? Are you dancing like you’ve never danced before? He dutifully pushes away any images of Kanda as Jennifer Beals in not much more than her leg warmers. 

He wonders if he made Kanda laugh, though, and if he did what it looks like. That image he can’t push away.  And you’re just having the time of your life with this, aren’t you, Beansprout?

Allen laughs, falling back onto his bed. You’re funny when you want to be.

Idiot. Maybe Kanda’s rolling his eyes, wherever he is, silently amused. 

Ah, there’s the Kanda we all know and love, with the vocabulary of a grade 5 student. 

It’s called a 5th grader, you fuckin’ twink.

Only if you have no culture, Pretty Boy.

It takes Kanda a little longer to reply to this. He could be busy, or formulating a response, or maybe he just really is done with the conversation. Allen has gone back to focusing on his movie and given up on getting another message when his mobile beeps.

It’s not Kanda, though. It’s Lenalee. You broke Kanda.

What could that possibly mean? Are they together? Pardon?

  Lenalee sends a laughing emoji with her next text. 😂 He was smiling like a serial killer for a moment, so I pretended to walk behind the couch to get something so I could peek at his phone and saw he was texting you. It was almost sweet, honestly. I’m glad I convinced him to apologize. I knew you wouldn’t hold a grudge. 

She’s gotten a little off track. She still hasn’t explained her original text.

What do you mean that I broke him? A second text. I might have held a tiny grudge.

She sends another laughing emoji. 😂 You called him a Pretty Boy and he looked like he short circuited. 

He sees a message come down from the top of his screen. The little preview says it’s Kanda, so he taps it, curious as to what he could be saying in response to all of this. Whatever that bitch is telling you, she’s lying.

He thinks that maybe Kanda doesn’t enjoy losing, or being vulnerable. Kanda can say anything he wants to come out on top, but when the roles are reversed he doesn’t know what to do. Lavi was probably right in saying that not many people go toe to toe with him. Lenalee just puts a stop to it, but most people probably just get mad and leave him alone.

Usually, Allen wouldn’t be so quick to rise to Kanda’s bait, either, but there’s something about the man that seems to bring out the worst in him sometimes. 

Lenalee again. Is he texting you? 😂😂😂 I’m laughing really hard so he probably guessed what I’m doing. God, y’all are so cute. 

Lenalee! Allen texts her back. 

He’s gonna tell you it’s because he’s angry, and it’s gonna be a lie. Just warning you. She replies. 

And sure enough, another text from Kanda, even though Allen never replied to the first. You’re just so incredibly stupid that I needed a moment to meditate on how you survived this long. 

Another message from Lenalee. He just reads it from the preview. His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks like he’s gotta poop. It’s so funny. 😂

Allen sputters out a laugh, but replies to Kanda anyway. He wonders idly if Kanda ever really hated the nickname in the first place, or if that was just for show. If he was just being defensive and trying not to seem affected. I survived through charm, wit, and talent. More than I can say for you.

He clicks back to Lenalee’s messages and replies, I wish I could see that. 

Sure enough, a photo comes in. Lenalee obviously took it without Kanda noticing, and the image is as hilarious as she said it would be. Just like how he looked at the onion as if it was the most confusing thing he’d ever seen, Kanda is single-mindedly focused on his phone, looking for all the world like he wishes he could set it on fire with just a look. 

I thought you might ask. Here you go!

They must be at Lenalee or Kanda’s house. The picture shows a warm living room, and if he looks really hard he notices it’s Lenalee’s from a picture on the mantle in the background. It’s her, young and small, in the arms of who must be her older brother. He looks just a couple years older than her in the picture, maybe a young teen. 

Kanda is sitting on the couch, reclined with his legs propped up next to him. If not for the look on his face, he would look extremely relaxed in his tank top and sweatpants. It’s the first time he’s seen Kanda’s hair down, too, and can’t help but let his eyes track how it falls across his chest and shoulders. 

As he looks at the photo, he gets another text from the man in question. Why is she giggling so much

He even forwent punctuation. Kanda must be really uncomfortable. Allen almost wants to take pity on him, almost, but he can’t help it. He’s gotta antagonize him further. 

She wanted to show me how you look when you’re constipated. 

What the fuck?

Allen sends the picture to Kanda, and it takes a minute or two for him to get a text back from either of them. He is briefly afraid that maybe Kanda snapped and killed Lenalee, but then he gets a text from her. 

Betrayal! 😭 She sends a crying emoji. I snap secret photos of Kanda for us to laugh at it and then you betray me! Prison! Prison for Allen! For one hundred years! 😭

He laughs, but sends her a heart emoji with his next text as an apology. I couldn’t resist, Lenalee, I’m sorry. 💗 Did it work, though? Did I win?

:( Yes, I think you won. Kanda threw his phone into the dining room. A photo comes in of another angle of the room, showing a large opening into the dining room. There, on the hardwood underneath a chair, is a lit up mobile. He feels a little proud that he made Kanda throw his phone after Kanda had made him throw his earlier. Another picture follows soon after, showing Kanda with his arms crossed and his eyes closed from his spot on the couch, silently fuming. 

This photo of Kanda is better, Allen thinks, though not as funny. Still, it captures his features nicer, and he can see how far down Kanda’s hair falls, all the way until it spills over the edge of the couch. He tries his best not to notice how his biceps look when his arms are folded and fails. 

He really just has very attractive friends and he can’t help it. 

Not that Kanda is his friend. Probably. 

Sorry, Lenalee, he apologizes again. I thought maybe he killed you or something at first. 

No, he didn’t even yell at me. He did try to grab my phone from me and break it, though. That meanie. 😢

Kanda doesn’t seem to really have it in him to be too mean to Lenalee, and Allen wonders why. Just because she’s a girl? Or is it something else?

He thinks that by now he would have noticed if any of them were dating each other, and he doesn’t think they would all teasingly flirt with him the way they do if they were, but he still considers it for a second. What would it take Kanda to not want death and dismemberment on another person? How is Lavi even still alive by this point? 

He really is softer than he seems, isn’t he?

I guess. :( 

Well, Lavi is still alive. 

Fair. :( 

I’m sorry again, Lenalee. I won’t goad him into trying to crush your phone again. 

Okaaaay, I forgive you. :) 

Thank you :) 

He doesn’t get any more texts after that, and realizes that he’s missed most of his movie and doesn’t even care. He smiles to himself, secretly, and laughs softly as Tim nuzzles against his cheek. 

He’s pretty sure he hasn’t been this happy in years.

Chapter Text

His fall semester starts on August twentieth. He’s a little nervous, but he knows the hardest part is long over. 

Before that, though, is Lavi’s birthday on August tenth. He hasn’t seen Kanda since what he has dubbed The Texting Incident, probably due to the guy’s own design, but Lenalee he’s been able to get together with. As much as he thinks he understands Lavi, he still knows to leave any planning to Lenalee. He’s not much of an event planner anyway.

They meet at Lenalee’s, a few days before the tenth, and lounge in the living room as Lenalee brings up her laptop to look up ideas on Pinterest and take notes as they go. 

“Lavi is a true Leo,” Lenalee explains, as if that means anything to Allen. At his blank look, she sighs. “He likes to be the center of attention.”

Makes sense. 

“I was thinking that he’d like something big, maybe, but he’s the one with all the money, so that’s sort of out. We can’t make him pay for his own birthday party.”

“Lavi has money?”

Lenalee tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, nodding while keeping her eyes on her laptop screen. “Oh yeah. Lots of it. He doesn’t act like it though, huh?”

No, he really doesn't. “Is his family rich?”

“His grandfather is, yeah. He has a lot of influence in this area.”

Allen, while extremely curious, doesn’t press further. Lenalee’s right, anyway, it’s not like he can pay for his own party. 

“Lavi likes to have fun,” she goes on. “And he likes helping us have fun. Maybe we could celebrate at an arcade?”

“Arcade? Like with...retro games and stuff?”

She looks up from her computer, placing a finger to her lips in thought. “Well, not exactly. There’s this place by his college, they do laser tag and have a few pool tables and a bar and all kinds of stuff. He’s turning 21, though, so we’d have to watch him.” 

“Is there any time that we don’t?”

She laughs sweetly and shakes her head. “I guess not.”

“He’d probably have fun, though,” Allen agrees. “And like you said, he’d like that it’s a day about him.” 

“Yeah, exactly. And maybe we could rent out one of the party rooms and get him a cake and stuff.”

“It’s starting to sound like a party for a primary schooler,” Allen laughs.

“And doesn’t that suit him?”

Allen has to agree with that, too. “Well, is there time to book that?” 

Lenalee shrugs and picks up her phone, swiping furiously to find whatever she’s looking for. Once she does, she smiles and holds the phone up to her ear. “We’re about to find out.”

They were able to book it, since it fell on a weekday and presumably isn’t going to be very busy, and as soon as Lavi lays an eye on the building he starts to bounce in his seat. “Ooh, ooh, I knew you guys had something planned!” He shakes Kanda by the shoulders, missing the death glare he gets in response as he’s too focused on his excitement. 

“Of course we did,” Lenalee laughs from the driver’s seat. “You think we drove you out to Baton Rouge on your birthday just for the hell of it?”

Lavi purses out his lips in a pout. “I dunno, maybe.”

“Oh, give it up,” she retorts, shaking her head. “Like you didn’t guess.” 

He doesn’t say anything to that, grin widening and shaking Kanda’s shoulders again. “You see that, Yu!?” Kanda’s shoulders are bristling as he slowly loses his last little bit of patience. “I’mma totally smoke you in DDR!”

“I’m not fucking playing any goddamn DDR.”

“It’s my birthday! You have to.”

“I don’t dance!”

“Aw,” Allen inputs. “That can’t be true! You’re gonna really lead me to believe you don’t know Footloose?”

Lavi gasps. “Allen! Wait, you unlocked Yu’s second level of friendship! He told you about his guilty pleasure!”

Kanda growls, shaking Lavi’s hand off. “Shut the fuck up, Eyepatch.”

Allen scratches his cheek, a little embarrassed. “Only after I told him mine,” he concedes. 

“Oh,” Lenalee starts. “Is that when y’all were flirting?”

The vehicle swerves in the parking lot as Kanda undoes his seatbelt and bounds in between the passenger and driver’s seat. He grapples, trying to cover her mouth, but it’s too late. Lavi has already heard. 

The redhead looks like he has stars in his eyes. “Wait, flirting?! What sort of developments have I been missing?” He pauses. “It was the grocery store rom com! I knew it! Love at first sight.”

Kanda can’t seem to decide if he wants to strangle Lavi, or shut Lenalee up.

She struggles, though, shaking Kanda off. “You want to make me hit another car?”

This helps Kanda’s decision, and he punches Lavi in the arm instead.  “Don’t you dare, Lenalee.”

Allen has to agree. “We weren’t flirting!”

“I dunno, Kanda telling you he wants you to ‘writhe underneath him like a bitch’ sounds like flirting to me.”

The cacophony of sounds that erupts in the car is unholy. Lenalee finds a spot and parks the car around the eruption, ignoring the rest of them. Allen stutters, flushing, trying to find indignant words to justify the texts, while Kanda just yells out of anger and frustration, yelling many indecent words at Lenalee. Lavi, however - Lavi is the loudest. It’s a mashup of ‘I knew it!’ and ‘when did y’all start fucking?’ and ‘that’s really hot, Yu, I didn’t know you had that in you!’ 

Allen doesn’t know what to do. He wants to crawl in a hole and die. Lavi is literally never going to let this go, and he doesn’t know if he can forgive Lenalee for that. It must be payback for Allen sending that picture to Kanda. It has to be. She can’t be this cruel. 

He wants to cry, wants to run - he’s even more mortified than when he got the text itself. “We aren’t fucking!” Allen exclaims, trying to get Lavi to shut up.

It works. Somehow, it really works. Lavi gasps, his one green eye opened wide in shock. “Al...Al, you said the fuck word.” 

Kanda doesn’t say anything else. He shoves the back door open with as much force as he can muster and climbs out the car furiously. Allen swears he sees a dusting of a blush on his tan cheekbones. 

It helps Allen feel a tiny bit better, if only because there’s someone else as embarrassed as him over this. He doesn’t think that when Kanda sent that text, he meant for anyone else to see it. Especially not Lenalee or Lavi, who would take it out of context on purpose.

Lenalee shrugs and turns off the car before grabbing her purse and getting out. Lavi gets out next, and then Allen finally gets up enough energy and motivation to get out as well. 

The walk to the building is done in silence, although Lavi seems to have recovered well, humming happily and nearly skipping as he makes his way to the entrance. He throws open both double doors, eagerly announcing his presence, while Kanda just stops and stares at the doors as they start to close again. Allen thinks he’s really considering just walking back to New Orleans when he growls and follows after Lavi. Before he and Lenalee can walk in, though, she puts a hand on Allen’s shoulder. 

Her smile is sheepish. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I know he was just trying to rile you up.”

Allen melts a little. He can’t stay mad at her when she seems genuinely apologetic. “Lavi is never going to stop talking about this.” 

She shakes her head. “No, he won’t.” A pause. “I was wondering...if it’s okay to ask. Are you…” She trails off.

Allen has an idea of where this is going, and opens his stupid, awkward mouth before he can stop it from happening. “I like girls,” he says, and Lenalee looks a little shocked before she covers her mouth with her hand to hide a smile. “And…” He looks to the side. “Guys, too.” He concedes. 

“That’s not the exact question I was going to ask,” she tells him, obviously amused. He feels his face and chest heat up. He is stupid, so, so stupid. He tries to say something else to her, but now nothing will come out. “But I understand. You two just get along so well. I thought maybe you liked him.”

Allen sputters, tripping over words. “ Like him? What gave you that idea?”

“You act a little different with him,” she offers. “Well, a lot different. It seems like you feel like you can be your real self around him. I thought maybe your guard being down around him might mean something.”

“He’s irritating,” Allen mutters, looking at his feet. 

“But he’s really hot, right?” She says, and he hears the mirth in her voice. Startled, he looks up at her, and she winks at him. “It’s okay to be attracted to him, but not want to date him. He’s insufferable at the best of times.”

This conversation is teetering dangerously close to unbearably uncomfortable. She’s read him like an open book, and he doesn’t really like that. 

“We’re all only human,” she smiles. “And physical attraction doesn’t have to be tied to romantic attraction.”

Maybe her words would be comforting, if they were speaking about literally anyone else. “I might have noticed he’s good looking,” he admits. And he doesn’t know why he says what he says next, but it happens anyway. “But I think you’re much prettier.”

Lenalee blushes. He sees it clearly on her pale cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispers. 

There are a lot of reasons he might have confessed that to her, but not one of them is likely to be because he wanted to be bold. He doesn’t really want to think too hard on why he might have deflected. 

“Allen,” she starts. “I have a secret, but you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

She grabs his hand and leads him away from the building. Together, they sit on a bench, far enough away to notice if Lavi or Kanda come back out but not be overheard. 

“I won’t,” he promises. 

“I...against my better judgement...am in love with someone.” 

Allen’s eyebrows furrow. He’s glad he kept squishing down any hopes with her, because this conversation could have really wounded him otherwise. It still feels a littel disappointing. “Why is that a secret?”

She takes a big, deep breath, and in the smallest voice he’s ever heard from her, she says, “Because it’s Lavi.”

Allen doesn’t know how to reply to that. He knows he must look shocked, can feel his jaw drop, but he is absolutely lost for words. He never would have seen that coming. They certainly don’t look like a couple in love. 

“He’s dating someone, though. He has been for like two years.”

Allen blinks, swallows, and sets his hand over hers. He can push down any lingering disappointment so that he can be there for her. “I’m sorry to...hear that.” 

She looks sad, so sad, and gazes at the entrance to the building. “He acts like an idiot most of the time, and says terribly annoying things, but he’s been there for me in times when I felt so alone. In those moments, he seemed so strong, so protective, and seeing this other side of him...I’ve never been able to let it go.”

“How long…?”

Her eyes get a little wet. “Um, I started liking him in ninth grade so...five years?”

Five years. Five years of unrequited love, unable to let go. Allen’s never known what that’s like, but he can imagine it’s unbearable. “Lenalee...did you ever tell him?”

She shakes her head. “No, no of course not. I couldn’t. By the time I was really ready to anyway, he was already in a relationship.”

He thinks that if she had told him sooner, Lavi would be dating her instead, but keeps that to himself. Besides, he can’t know that for sure - he just knows that Lenalee is one of the most wonderful girls he’s ever met, and that anyone would be lucky to have her. 

She collects herself, then, patting her cheeks. “I think if I really tried I could find someone else, but I don’t want to.” She moves to pat Allen’s hand. “So, I’m flattered, but my heart is taken.”

Allen blinks at her for a long time before he realizes that she told him all of that just to let him down. “N-No! I mean, I wasn’t - I just!”

“It’s okay,” she laughs. “I noticed a while ago. I really am flattered.” She moves a piece of Allen’s hair from his face and leans in close, eyes soft. “In another life, I know I’d be lucky to have you.” She kisses his cheek, and Allen feels his heart sink. “You’re very sweet, Allen. I have to say, if you do decide to date Kanda, you’d be excellent for him.” 

He swallows, still feeling his heart in the pit of his stomach. He can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed. Some part of this feels like loss, for something that could have been, something she admits could have been. Maybe her admitting that was worse than her just saying she loved someone else. 

He has to know why she keeps genuinely bringing up Kanda and him, though. “Not that this...matters...but is Kanda even into guys? He doesn’t really seem like he’s into anyone.”

She laughs, leaning back. “He’s as straight as a rainbow, Allen. Gay as they come.” 

He feels like maybe it wasn’t right of him to ask, and maybe it wasn’t right for her to tell, but now he knows, and he can’t unknow it. “Why do you keep thinking we’d be good together. I don’t even know him.” 

She shrugs. “You didn’t know me, either.” 

That gets him right in the chest. She’s right. He didn’t. He doesn’t, still. Lenalee has an entire lifetime of things he doesn’t know. 

“When you were singing that song, Allen, Kanda sat next to me. He kept his eyes locked on you with this piercing gaze, as if he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. He’s been through a lot, and it seems like you have, too. I think maybe you two could feel understood together. And you’re soft and kind, but you don’t lay down and just take shit from him. He’s never known a love that’s soft and kind besides from his family...” She pauses. “But that’s a story for him to tell, someday.” 

Allen remembers the look Kanda gave him, the way he seemed transfixed, the way he was breathing so heavily. 

“Lenalee, I don’t think I can ever really-” he’s about to admit something to her that he's never told a soul, not a single person, when the doors to the building open and Lavi runs out. 

He’s glad for Lavi’s interruption. He was getting swept up in the moment, and very nearly told her one of the most broken things about him. 

He doesn’t know if he can love anymore, not really. Not like she means. Crushes and attraction are one thing, but love? True, unconditional love?

That piece of him left when his father died, and he can’t see a way to ever get it back. 

The first thing they do is laser tag. It’s split into two teams, red and blue, and chosen at random. There’s not that many people here in line with them, maybe about ten in total including them, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. As their names pop up on the screen, though, he sees that Kanda and he are on the red team, with Lenalee and Lavi on the blue. Great, just great. 

“There goes my chance to shoot you,” Kanda murmurs, looking just as displeased. 

“Lena, Lena, look! We’re on the same team!” Lavi jumps up and down and wraps his arms around her in a big hug.

“I see, Lavi, I see,” she laughs, patting his arm. Now that Allen knows what he does, it hurts his heart a little to see Lenalee braving through her feelings to stay friends with Lavi. 

They suit up, strapping on the vests that register points when they’re shot, and grab the laser guns. Allen gets used to it, the weight, where the trigger is, the little display, whereas Kanda just takes it and puts it in the holster on his vest. 

“Big man over here doesn’t even need to look at his weapon,” Allen teases. 

Kanda just sneers.

He pulls his long hair out of its ponytail and lets it fall down his back, raking his fingers through it before throwing it back up in a high bun, probably to keep it out of the way or from getting tugged by one of the kids playing with their parents. Allen doesn’t even notice he’s staring until Lavi gives a low whistle and he looks over to see the redhead giving a thumbs up. 

Allen rolls his eyes, holstering the laser gun, and queues up behind Kanda. 

After the rules and instructions are given, a coin toss decides which group gets to go in first. Red team wins, and as the door opens to let them into the room where they’ll be playing, he and Kanda don’t say a word to one another. 

They split up as Allen gets a lay of the room, taking notes of ramps and obstacles, and finally decides to pick a spot towards the front, where a large wall with a cut out will shield him from view as the blue team files in. The lights go down, but some brightly colored fluorescents on the walls make him feel like it’s the 90’s. 

A beep rings through the room signaling the start of the game as the blue team walks through the doors. He waits until they’re a little closer and he has a clear shot before he stands, aims through the small open window in the wall, and fires off two quick shots, nailing Lavi and a parent right in the chest. He barely catches Lavi’s yelp of surprise as he spins on his heel and vaults over a lower wall, completely ignoring the no jumping rule. 

What’s the point of being a former acrobat and extremely flexible if he doesn’t use that to his advantage?

As he lands, he notices Kanda looking at him for a brief moment before they both bolt off in opposite directions. Both ways follow a ramp that leads up to the second level, but there are already members of the blue team up here, and he somersaults behind a wall as they fire at him. The sensor near his shoulder lights up red, signaling he was hit, but he ignores it. 

The blue team seems to start to follow around, to try to crowd him and get his vest to power down after a few shots, but Allen quickly locks eyes with Kanda once more on the opposite side of the level. Allen nods his head to the side, gesturing to the group of three trying to creep around, and Kanda gives him a scary smile before making long strides around and behind the three. With a precision Allen does not expect, he fires off three shots, making each of their vest light up blue from the sensors on their back. 

Startled, all three of them turn to see who shot at them, and they immediately shoot at Kanda. Allen sees two patches on Kanda’s vest light up red, and solemnly thinks to himself that Kanda’s sacrifice will not be in vain. After three shots, the suit and gun powers down for 5 seconds until everything will come back up again. He’s only got one hit left. 

Allen keeps to his hiding spot, poking his head through a cut out and with lightning speed gets each of the three blue members from their side. They seemed to have forgotten about Allen, and two of them groan as their suits power down. They must have been hit before. 

The third one kneels down, aiming at the place where Allen hid, but Allen has already rolled away. 

He sees Lenalee coming up the second level now, places a hand on the carpeted edge of the wall, and vaults himself down to the first floor. He catches himself easily, familiar with how to break his fall from such a short height, but it caught the attention of Lenalee, who yelps a very loud, “Holy shit!” before Allen uses her surprise to his advantage and shoots her in the shoulder. Her vest blinks blue, but she recovers quickly and manages to shoot Allen before he gets away. 

He only has one hit left. A small kid, resourceful and cunning and reminding him of himself when he was young, suddenly pops up from where he was crawling on the ground, below Allen’s line of sight, and fires a shot off point blank. 

The suit makes a sad sound as it powers down, and he groans. By now, both teams are pretty scattered, so he finds a spot to hide under the ramp in the dark for a few seconds until he can get back on the floor. 

As he waits, the seconds stretching on, he sees Lavi run past the ramp and crouch down behind a very tall wall, peeking his head around to look for red vests. He seems to hear Allen’s suit as soon as it powers up and turns around, and Allen is beyond shocked to see that Lavi has reflexes as fast as he does. They shoot at the same time and both get hit, but the difference is that Allen just recovered, and Lavi just took his final blow. Lavi’s suit powers down. 

“Not cool, man,” he whimpers, pouting. “It’s my birthday, you’re supposed to let me win.” 

Allen laughs, running past him, feeling his hair whip back from his face as he does so. Upon seeing a parent on the blue team, he backflips through an open window in a tall wall. Is his ability to do flips and somersaults an unfair advantage? Absolutely. Will that stop him from using it? Of course not. Allen needs to win, feeling his competitive streak crop up. 

When he meets with Kanda again on the second level, both of them heaving from running around, Kanda finds a moment to compliment him. “That’s impressive as fuck, Beansprout, all those little flips you’re doing.”

“I try,” Allen grins at him, the honesty behind it making his eyes crinkle. He wipes his bangs away from his damp forehead, then quickly wipes away a long, black stray hair sticking to Kanda’s cheek. The other man seems shocked for a moment, but just as Allen starts to see a real smile on Kanda’s lips, he notices a kid coming straight for them, missing all of her shots but clearly trying. “See you on the other side, Comrade.” 

Allen stands and opens his arms. Might as well let the kid get a shot off; no matter how competitive he is, he isn’t gonna take this away from the girl when she’s so serious about it. She manages to get a shot on him, making his vest light up red. His second hit. 

He looks back at Kanda and winks before vaulting down to the first level again. “Wow!” He hears the girl exclaim as he lands. 

Their time must be running out, so Allen knows he needs to make the most of it. He purposely searches for Lavi and Lenalee, expertly rolling away from shots from other members of the blue team, and when he sees them standing back to back, covering each other, he takes a quick, steady aim, and shoots them both. 

“Hey!” Lenalee exclaims. She readies her gun just as the lights turn back on in the room and the game is announced to be over. 

Allen feels extremely sweaty. He probably exerted himself well beyond what anyone else did, but it was exhilarating. He heaves as he holsters his gun and heads back out to the lobby where they got their vests. 

“Allen!” Lavi exclaims as he takes off his vest. “That was so goddamn sexy! What other superpowers do you have that we don’t know about?”

Allen laughs and shakes his head. “I’m familiar with gymnastics.” 

“I’d say!” Lenalee nods, pulling her hair out of the small ponytail she’d put it in before the match. Allen hadn’t even noticed. 

Kanda is silent as he picks up his equipment, but he catches Allen watching him out of the corner of his eye and gives him a secret little smirk. He swells with pride. He hasn’t felt this good about his flexibility since he was performing at the circus. 

“I feel like I need a shower, though,” Allen says, wiping his hair away from the back of his neck, looking up and pulling on his shirt to get it away from his skin, feeling a little bit of air hit his cheeks from the motion. He rolls his shoulders and stretches his back. “Lenalee, can I borrow that hair tie you were using?”

Kanda, Lavi, and Lenalee are all openly staring at him now. 

She squeaks, then holds out her proffered wrist where the hair tie is. Lavi bounds forward. “Let me give it to him,” he grins, pulling it off her wrist with a soft motion. “If I’m lucky, he’ll be so thankful he’ll give me a free birthday wish.”

Lavi winks at him and Allen rolls his eyes, taking the proffered hair tie and pulling his hair away from his face. Maybe he needs to cut it, but he’s liking it a little long. “I don’t even want to know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh, dude, you looked really fucking hot just now. Were you not trying to do that? God, Lenalee, it's effortless. He really does have another power.” Lavi pauses for dramatic effect. “The power of seduction.” 

Kanda storms off, and Allen agrees with the sentiment. He waves his hand in disregard at Lavi and walks back into the main area to look around. There is an arcade to his left, but it certainly isn’t old school. It’s all lit up and noisy, with modern games he’s never seen or heard of. Kanda has stalked off to who knows where, so Allen walks towards the games. 

He sees a card slot on the display for one of them, and it tells him that it takes eight credits to play the game. “Credits?” He murmurs out loud. 

He looks over to ask Lenalee and Lavi, and sees them both at a kiosk a little ways away. Lenalee has her cheeks puffed out like she’s angry, while Lavi just grins at her and pokes at the kiosk’s screen. 

He walks up to them, getting close enough to hear what they’re talking about. “It’s your birthday, Lavi!” Lenalee exclaims. “You aren’t supposed to be spending your own money!”

“Ah, Lena-babe, it’s okay! See, I’ve already bought them!”

He shoves a black credit card into the card reader, and Allen catches what the screen is now showing. 

Credits are apparently a form of currency just used for the arcade, but it takes real money to buy them. Allen notices that Lavi has just spent two hundred real, American dollars, for a virtual currency useful absolutely nowhere else. 

Four cards drop from a slot in the machine, and Lavi takes them before handing one to Lenalee. “See, already done. So just take it, have fun!” 

Lenalee sighs, looking away, but she looks pleased. Lavi notices him, then, and waves Allen over. “Here! You can use this to play any game you want. Do you know where Yu is? I got one for him, too.” 

“No idea,” Allen shakes his head. “He’s being antisocial in a corner somewhere, I’d guess.” 

“Good point.” Lavi shoves Kanda’s card into Allen’s hands. “Go find this and bring it to him! If you tell him you’re gonna beat him in air hockey, he’ll definitely come.”

“Oh lord,” Lenalee rolls her eyes. “Don’t get Kanda started on air hockey, please. Last time he made a kid cry.” 

“And he probably will today, too!” Lavi helpfully exclaims, looking pleased for some reason. 

Allen does as he’s asked, though, shaking his head and wondering off towards where he last saw Kanda headed. 

There’s some seating, at the back of a bar area. Kanda is already sitting there with a drink - something in a rocks glass, which means it’s probably alcohol. 

Allen sits in the seat opposite him, drawing Kanda’s angry gaze up. “Aren’t you twenty?” Allen asks, raising an eyebrow. He’s no stranger to underage drinking, he’s lived with Cross for many years and has been forced to try many different things, but they didn’t typically do it out in the open. It was always stuff Cross already had at home. 

“Yeah,” Kanda returns, helpfully. He takes a very long sip of his drink, and Allen watches as his eyes trail down Allen’s throat, down past his collarbone. 

He’s being appraised again. This time it doesn’t seem like Kanda is trying to make an insult, though. 

Allen holds out Kanda’s card that Lavi gave him, angry at himself that his hand is trembling. “

“What’s that?” Kanda asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s, uh, credits. For air hockey.”

Both of Kanda’s eyebrows raise, and a sadistic grin lights up his face. “You know how to play air hockey, Beansprout?”

“Not...not really.”

Kanda’s grin somehow gets even scarier. “Great. I’m feeling generous. I’ll teach you.” Allen does not think Kanda is feeling generous at all. 

Lenalee was right. Kanda is ruthless. Allen doesn’t even have time to learn, because Kanda is moving so quickly and so deftly that Allen can’t even really track his movements. He has good reflexes, but not that good. 

Kanda has won twice before Allen can even remotely hold his own, but he’s stubborn and does not give up easily. 

He is also a cheater, and not above dirty tricks. As he knocks the puck back towards Kanda, he taunts him with a simple, “Come on, Pretty Boy, you’ve gotta do better than that.” 

And it works. Kanda, who was leaned over the edge of the hockey table, makes an awful jerky movement towards the puck that almost makes him faceplant on the table. 

“Ooh, nice one, Allen! You got him!” Lavi calls. The puck scores, falling into Kanda’s goal. 

“Yes!” He cheers, throwing his fist in the air. 

“It’s just one point, idiot!” Kanda growls back. 

The rest of the game goes much the same as the first two, now that Kanda’s recovered and ready for any taunts. 

By the fifth game, Allen is able to score three points. 

By the seventh game, Lavi and Lenalee have wandered off to play something else. 

By the tenth game, Allen finally wins. He wins, and he can’t even be excited about it because his right arm is so sore it hurts to move it. Kanda seems to be in the same predicament, but ever the sore loser, he gives Allen a nasty glare. 

Allen groans, stumbling away from the air hockey table, and leans against the side of one of the larger arcade games. “You are one ruthless arsehole.” 

Kanda sneers at him, and Allen notices he’s breathing a little heavy. “You just suck.”

“I just beat you!”

“And it only took ten tries, too,” Kanda sneers, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. Oh no, his biceps look good again. Allen forces his eyes away, pointedly searching for a less physically demanding game to play. 

He tries not to think about what Lenalee said. Kanda really isn’t so bad, but even if he was the sweetest guy on the planet, Allen doesn’t know if they could ever be good for each other. She just doesn’t know Allen yet, like Allen doesn’t know her. 

Still, Kanda is very good looking, and he hates that.

Without the promise of more air hockey, Kanda loses interest in the games and goes back towards where Allen found him at the bar. Before he leaves, however, he flicks the card with the rest of his credits on it at Allen, pelting it right at his chest. 

“Ow,” Allen mumbles, rubbing his chest and leaning down to pick up the card. It probably has a good number of credits on it, since all they played was air hockey. 

He pockets it and settles down a piano game, frustrated when it’s nothing like actually playing piano, but still not stopping until he gets the top score. 

The day ends with Lavi’s birthday party in the reserved room. He nearly cried with joy upon seeing it, and didn’t even mind when Allen ate most of his cake. Lavi hooked up his bluetooth to a speaker in the room and played mindless top 40’s as he did the arts and crafts that were included in the party package, ending up with sparking blue glitter glue on his face somehow, and Kanda even ended up joining them in the end, though Allen noticed he brought more alcohol with him. 

After the party, they crowd back into Lenalee’s car for the drive home. It’s mostly quiet, everyone exhausted from the day, but this time Lavi sits in the front and Allen sits in the back with Kanda. The dark haired man keeps his gaze trained on the window for most of the ride, as does Allen, but in the reflection he sees each and every time Kanda’s eyes move towards Allen again. 

He thinks again about that lost piece of him. 

He’s been wanting companionship in the form of a lover like any other boy his age for quite some time, but never seriously. Never to the point where he actually considered someone else. 

And now, today, in the car, locking eyes with Kanda’s reflection, he holds on to that more than ever. 

Chapter Text

August twentieth comes with some relief, to his surprise.

He needs something to think about other than Kanda, because now he doesn’t just think about soft hair and strong arms - he thinks about the start of a genuine smile and dark eyes. 

Most of his nights are spent with his head in his hands, feeling tortured. Feeling ridiculous, and young, and small. Feeling like he should be beyond this.

With Lenalee, it was great. He was okay with it. He thought she was pretty, and fun, and kind, but with it came a sort of inanity. Lenalee would only ever be his friend, and the only 'more' they could ever achieve in this life would be a casual romance. 

When she said what she did, he doesn't think his heart dropped because he felt like he lost her, specifically. He was faced with himself in that moment, reminded of what he is. Reminded him of what he lost. 

And maybe it won’t be forever. But it’s here now. 

So he busies himself with the start of his school year. He meets with his teachers, gathers his textbooks and supplies, spends his time in the practice rooms where he can play a real piano, and then he goes straight home and cooks dinner for him and Cross before heading to his room. 

He lets the days go by. Kanda doesn’t text him, and he doesn’t text Kanda. When Lenalee or Lavi texts him, he responds, but always has an excuse ready for Lenalee when she wants to see him. 

Allen doesn’t feel right. He’s off-kilter. Everything is happening too quickly, and he can’t recover long enough to feel like himself again. 

Cross never really comments on Allen’s behavior. Maybe he’s never around long enough to notice, or maybe he doesn’t care, but Allen is grateful for the space. 

When he feels like himself again, he’ll meet with Lenalee. He doesn’t want her to see him like this before that. 

It’s nearly September before he feels like there’s any break in his routine. Though it isn’t a break in it so much as an aberration. 

He always takes his lunch in the same spot in the cafeteria. He hasn’t really met anyone at the school yet, they’re all already settled into friend groups, so he eats alone. He usually plays cards or reads a book during this time, and it’s on a day that he’s playing solitaire when someone sits down across from him. 

He looks up to see a man with curly brown hair, much older than him, smiling. Allen’s eyebrows furrow, wondering what in the world his deal is, when a gloved finger points down at the cards. “You play a lot? You deal the cards like someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Disarmed, Allen looks down at his game. “I...used to, yeah.”

“Then you know poker, right? Have time for a game?”

This is so unusual that Allen doesn’t even have time to feel suspicious. “Sure?”

He doesn’t know who this person is, or why they want to play poker with him, but Allen gathers up his game of solitaire and shuffles the deck before dealing out five cards to each of them. 

“What’s your name?” Allen asks, picking his hand up. Okay, he’s got a king high, and a pair of tens. Not bad. 

“Name?” The man asks, as if that’s a strange question to ask. “It’s Mikk.” 

Mikk? What a weird name. The strange man places two cards face down, so Allen deals him two new cards. Allen places two cards down as well. Usually, he keeps the upper hand in poker, except that this guy could be a member of faculty and he doesn’t want to get caught cheating. He probably wouldn’t , but still. 

Mikk shows his hand. “Pair of Jacks.”

Allen looks at the two cards he drew, another ten, and a four. 

He sets down his own hand. “Three of a kind, King high.”

Mikk scratches the back of his head. “That’s some luck, kid.” 

Allen picks up the cards again and shuffles them. “If I may ask...who are you?”

“I already gave you my name,” the strange man grins.

“No,” Allen shakes his head, a little frustrated, as he deals out more cards. “Who are you? Do you work here?”

“Ah,” Mikk returns, nodding. “I’m just passing through. Looking for talent.”

Either he’s a scout, or he’s a creep. He sort of seems like a creep, but on the off chance he isn’t Allen keeps unsavory comments to himself. Mikk hands Allen three cards for the discard as Allen surveys his own hand. This time, he starts with an entire hand of hearts. A flush. 

He isn’t usually this lucky on his own. He decides not to change anything out of his hand for obvious reasons, and then they both show their hands.

Mikk groans. “Lost again!” He ruffles his already messy hair and leans back in his seat. “If we were playing for cash I’d be out of luck.”

Some red warning light is going off in Allen’s mind, and he decides to listen to it. As he picks up the cards and shuffles them, reassembling the deck, he makes up a quick excuse. “Well, thank you for the game but I have to go practice now. Have a good day.”

“Smart,” Mikk says in farewell. “Getting out of the game when you’re on your winning streak.” 

Allen tries to not run out of the cafeteria. 

September moves by fairly quickly with the way he tries to keep himself extra busy. He knows he’s on borrowed time, though. Lenalee’s texts are getting more and more concerned, and he knows one of these days she’s just going to show up to his house and drag him out by the ear. 

Kanda even texts him eventually, towards the end of September. It could be at the behest of Lenalee, but he takes one look at it and feels his heart sink again. 

You’re concerning Lenalee, Beansprout. Whatever you’re doing, pull yourself together.

Allen doesn’t even know how to respond to that, so he just says, Sorry.

Listen to this, Kanda replies, and follows his message up with a link. It brings up a song he’s very familiar with. 

He puts his earbuds in and closes his eyes, leans his head back against his headboard. The guitar is soothing in its own way, helping some of the tension leave his muscles. Music always does help him feel better. 

He wonders if this is one of Kanda’s favorite songs or something, and why he chose to send this one. Everyone knows this song in at least passing, so maybe he sent it on the off-chance Allen liked it, too. 

Unlike most Metallica songs, this one is one of the most uplifting of the bunch. If Kanda knows anything about meaning in music, if he knows anything about Metallica, he’s delivering a very specific message that maybe he wouldn’t otherwise be able to communicate. 

Most of Metallica’s gloom and doom has to do with death or wanting to die, or some variation on that, but Nothing Else Matters is different. Nothing Else Matters is the opposite, about trust, about recognizing that no matter what is happening in your life, nothing else matters besides the people you love. It doesn’t matter what others say, or do, or the hurt you may feel - when you care about someone you can always get through it, even if that person is yourself. 

Or maybe Kanda just likes the way it sounds.

He hefts himself up out of bed, leaves in his earbuds to listen to more Metallica as he grabs his wallet and leaves the house. He thinks Cross calls to him as he does so, but he can’t hear over the music. 

He doesn’t know where Kanda lives, but assumes he lives nearby. He doesn’t know why he wants to go there instead of to Lenalee’s, especially with the mess going on in his head, but he does. They don’t know each other’s history, but it may not really matter. 

He decides to call Lavi, instead of Lenalee. He’s afraid if he calls her to ask this question she’s going to overreact and also show up at Kanda’s, but he doesn’t want to face her after the month he spent being a terrible friend.

Kanda is safe. They can bicker, and fight, and he won’t make Allen tell him what’s been going on. If he even lets Allen in his house. 

Lavi, when he answers, doesn’t even tease him when he gives Allen directions to Kanda’s. That’s how he knows he’s worried them. Maybe Lavi is just grateful he’s doing something . 

When he gets there, at first he thinks maybe he’s at the wrong address. It’s a two story home, simple, with an old vehicle parked outside. Slowly, carefully, he walks up to the front door, and hears Lynyrd Skynyrd from where he is. It sounds soft, but it must at least be loud enough for it to be heard through the walls. 

Suddenly, he’s nervous. He didn’t ask Kanda if he could come by. He purposefully asked Lavi instead because some part of him was afraid Kanda wouldn’t give him directions.

He could still turn around. Kanda wouldn’t even ever know he was there, unless Lavi told him. “ We can do this, oh baby, if you try. All that I want for you, my son, is to be satisfied .” 

The song grips Allen’s heart, makes him lean his head against the door. He feels it softly vibrate from the bass.

He’s afraid of this feeling swallowing him. It wouldn’t be the first time, but it could maybe be the last. That, just like the lyrics he heard earlier, he can learn to just...let others see the bad parts of him, just a little. Just enough so that he can truly believe that nothing else matters. 

He slowly brings his hand up to ring the doorbell, but doesn’t move back fast enough to remove his forehead from the door before it opens. 

He sways forward, but is easily caught by strong, warm hands.

“Beansprout?”

He looks up at Kanda, putting a hand on his arm to steady himself. “Sorry,” he whispers, looking away. “I know I shouldn’t have come without asking, I just -”

Kanda interrupts him with a heavy exhale, what one might consider an irritated sigh, but his fingers slip from Allen’s arm to gesture him inside. It’s almost like Kanda expected this, to some degree. He doesn’t seem particularly upset as Allen enters his home. 

The first thing he notices is how large the downstairs looks, but there’s no one else here. He looks around, but there’s no sign that Kanda lives with someone else. “What are you doing here?” Kanda asks, despite not looking surprised. 

“Uh.”

Allen knows that saying he doesn’t know is not a good enough answer. Honesty is tough, but he manages. Kanda deserves that, at least, since Allen just up and decided to show up at his house out of nowhere. 

“Lenalee, she, uh.” Damn, this is hard.

Kanda exhales through his nose. “She asks a lot of fucking questions, yeah.” He somehow just...knew.

Allen is still standing awkwardly in the foyer, so Kanda walks them towards the living room and nods toward a large plush chair across from his couch. Allen settles into it, pulling his knees to his chest. He feels vulnerable now. He hasn’t known Kanda for very long, and nothing about the man is comforting, but he still feels raw. He knows Kanda won’t ask too many questions, but Allen is still showing him something he’s never really shown anyone else. 

“Do you live here alone?” Allen manages to ask, looking at everything in the room except Kanda. There’s no photographs, but there are paintings on the wall. Beautiful landscapes, mostly. It doesn’t fit what he’s seen of Kanda so far.

He hears Kanda click his tongue. “Yes.”

He’s here so that Kanda won’t ask him questions, so it isn’t fair for him to interrogate Kanda. He grows silent, wondering what he hoped to really get from this. He supposes he just didn’t want to be alone. 

There’s just silence for a while. Allen doesn’t know what to say, and Kanda doesn’t seem to feel like talking as usual, but eventually the other man gets up and walks to the back corner of the room. Allen doesn’t watch what he does, but hears the song when it starts. 

He knows this song. Black Velvet, he thinks it’s called. He looks up at Kanda to see him settling back down on the couch and pulling out his phone. He doesn’t say anything else. He seems to like letting the music speak for him. 

“Every word of every song that he sang was for you. In a flash, he was gone, it happened so soon. What could you do?” 

“Someone died, right?”

Allen feels his breathing pick up before he grits his teeth and looks away. “I thought Lenalee was the one who asked questions.”

“You don’t have to answer then,” Kanda snarls. 

Allen realizes he’s probably trying to help, in some weird Kanda way, and feels himself soften a bit, even though he still feels defensive. He swallows, resting his head on the back of the chair to look at the ceiling. 

“Do you ever feel…” Allen starts. “Do you ever think maybe something is wrong with you? Like...you’re missing something you’re supposed to have?”

Kanda is quiet for a very long time. “Yes, I do.”

A new song starts. He doesn’t remember the artist, or the name of the song, but he remembers the lyrics. “ Woke up to the sound of pouring rain. The wind would whisper and I’d think of you. And all the tears you cried that called my name, when you needed me I came through.” 

He feels tears creep at the edges of his eyes. “This is awful,” Allen whispers, tears rolling down his cheeks. He tries to blink them away, but he can’t. They come quicker. “How do you even...how do you even get around it?”

“How should I know?”

“I don’t see you running around like me. Like a coward. Avoiding everyone when I don’t want them to see how I really am. When I can’t bear to see them leave.”

Kanda makes a noise of aggravation, and Allen lowers his head to look at him; Kanda looks very uncomfortable, arms crossed and trembling, eyebrows furrowed. “If you wanted a therapist, I don’t know why you came here.”

Allen exhales, scrubbing at his cheeks. “Someone did die. My father.” Kanda looks at him suddenly, dark eyes wide, lips parted. He looks well and truly shocked, and Allen sniffs before continuing. “I don’t want a therapist. I just want to feel understood, and I just want to understand.”

Something in Kanda’s gaze shifts. He clears his throat, looks down at his hands. Allen wants to be nearer to him, then, to sit next to him and feel his warmth. Feel someone there. He doesn’t want Lenalee’s concern, or Lavi’s jokes. He just wants to be silently accepted. He wants to be told that it’s okay for him to feel like this. He wants to know that he isn’t alone, that the missing piece of him doesn’t make him lesser. 

“I don’t know how you haven’t gathered by now that I’m not fucking good at this,” Kanda says, but his tone isn’t harsh. 

“You’re better than you think,” Allen returns, finding a small smile underneath everything else. Kanda looks at him from the side, then diverts his gaze again. “It’s fun, ya know, being with all of you. But...I’ve always had to leave. I could have to leave again. And that missing piece of me lies in the grave with my father. I don’t…” Allen’s shoulders shake and he holds himself to try to stop the shaking. “I don’t even know if I have the time or the strength to try to get it back.”

A heavy silence falls between them. “It’s not like I’m any better, Beansprout,” Kanda finally says after what feels like forever. And that’s exactly what he wants to hear. Allen starts to cry again, out of relief. “You’re such a cry baby. You tryin’ to get coddled or something?”

He gives a shaky laugh, closing his eyes. “From you? Never.” He still feels the urge to move closer to Kanda, but is aware of the multitude of reasons that is a very bad idea. If it was Lenalee, it’d be so easy to accept a hug, or to hold her hand. With Kanda, even sitting next to him on the couch feels dangerous. This space is safer. 

“So, what? You gonna go back to being annoying again anytime soon?”

“I’ll try, for your sake.”

Kanda snarls, but Allen doesn’t miss his blush. 

“That man - Tiedoll - my...my father. Foster father. He died, too. So I get it, Beansprout. That’s what you want to hear, right? I get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever. It was over a year ago.” 

“A year ago!?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

Allen didn’t even want to talk for the year after Mana died, but he was also a lot younger. “How do you stay so strong?”

“Is that what it looks like?” Kanda sneers. He stands, fuming, glaring at Allen. “What does strong mean to you, Walker?”

Allen’s breath catches in his throat. Kanda’s fury is beautiful, palpable. “Mana...Mana always told me to keep walking forward. You seem to have a better grasp on that than I do. That’s strength, isn’t it? Didn’t you tell me? Nothing else matters. You have to keep going.”

Kanda looks like Allen’s words were the equivalent of a physical blow. Allen unfolds himself from his position in the chair and stands as well. Only a coffee table separates them now, and another eighties rock song plays in the living room as Allen tries to pull himself together. He straightens out his shirt, aware that he probably looks like a mess, and takes another glance at the living room. “I’ve overstayed my welcome, if I was even welcome in the first place,” he smiles thinly. “I’ll get out of your hair, Pretty Boy.”

He starts to walk away, but he hears quick steps on the carpet before a hand grips his arm. The left one. “Wait, Beansprout.” He spins Allen around, gripping both of his biceps to hold him in place. “Don’t...I wouldn’t have let you in if you were unwelcome.”

They’re close, now, Kanda’s eyes just inches away from his. His heart flutters in his chest and he ignores it. “Like I said,” he smiles again. “You’re better at the whole comfort thing than you think.”

He wipes Kanda’s bangs from his eyes, feeling heavy puffs of breath on his nose and cheeks and lips, and then backs away. Kanda’s grip is loose enough that it allows for it. “I...you…!”

“Lenalee said something really nice to me last month, at Lavi’s birthday party. She said something like...in another life, I’d be lucky to have you.” Kanda chokes out a strangled noise, hand reaching out for Allen in what appears to be a subconscious gesture. “But I’m already pretty lucky, huh? Even the stoic Kanda was nice to me today. I hope it wasn’t just out of pity.”

“It-it wasn’t pity! Fucking...idiot.”

Allen pats Kanda’s hand, still outstretched, and Kanda pulls it away like the contact burned. He really must not have noticed he was doing it. “I’m glad I met you, Kanda. Thanks for letting me vent for a bit.”

Kanda seems desperate for something, but he appears to be as at a loss as Allen is for whatever that is. He takes a quick, jerky step forward, still breathing hard. “You don’t get to just...say shit like that.”

Allen cocks his head to the side. “What is it Americans say?” He asks. “Oh, right. It’s a free country, Kanda. I can say whatever I want.” 

Again, Allen has won, although this is a bittersweet victory. It’s nice to have left Kanda vulnerable and on the defense again, but it feels like there was a steep cost. Some major piece of himself he had to give. 

“I’ll see you around, Yu,” Allen chuckles, waving a hand at him and opening his front door to leave. 

“Don’t call me that!”

After that talk, Allen does feel better. He calls Lenalee to talk to her, and she’s so relieved that Allen seems to be okay that she isn’t even angry at him. She really is too kind. 

He leaves out all the things that he and Kanda actually said to each other. They feel raw and intimate. He wants to keep them close to that hole in his heart. He doesn’t even want to say them out loud to himself, afraid they’ll slip from between his lips and float away. 

Whatever happened with Kanda, it was cathartic, but he doesn’t see it happening again anytime soon. It was too much for both of them. He could see it in Kanda’s eyes - Allen forced him into an uncomfortable position. It was a little selfish, but he tries not to be too hard on himself for it. 

As September ends, October brings the promise of cooler weather. He’s grateful. At least now the long sleeves won’t be so uncomfortable anymore and he won’t get all the weird looks. All three of his friends have noticed, but none of them have asked. He thinks if they did he would show them, but he’s fine to let it go until then.

He has midterms coming up, which even he knows are going to be a little unconventional. It’s not all exams and papers and rote memorization, although some of it is. His German teacher, a severe looking blond that always seems to notice when Allen’s attention is slipping, has warned them that NOCCA is still a high school and focuses on college prep in addition to the performing arts, so there’s no slacking on studies. 

He thinks he does alright. He gets the Musicianship coursework, and he’s started building a repertoire for his Music Performance course, but the issues come into play when he factors in the fact that he’s never had professional instruction. He learns new things, that music isn’t just about feeling. 

There’s math. Ugh. And physics. Science. His knowledge on music theory is limited, and that’s being generous. He’s just glad he was able to fool the judges.  

Lenalee, Kanda, and Lavi all have their studies as well. Lavi is a history major, Allen has learned, but all he knows about Kanda’s major right now is that it has to do with science. It’s surprising, but interesting. 

Thankfully, he and Kanda are able to get back to some sense of normalcy in their...friendship? It seems like neither of them are able to bring up what happened, and while Allen doesn’t want to ruin the sanctity of the moment with whatever grumpy bullshit Kanda would say, he thinks maybe Kanda just wants to forget it. Things are back to how they were at first, fun and light, lots of bickering. 

No more lingering looks, though. That’s done. They clearly established they were both fucked up. There’s no way they need to complicate their lives any further. 

Lavi promises to come down for Halloween, which lands on a Friday, so once Allen gets through midterms, that’s something to look forward to. The only issue is that he’s apparently bringing his girlfriend and her younger brother with him. He almost wants to make some excuse for Lenalee’s sake, but she’s a grown woman and doesn’t need Allen to do that for her. She made it clear she understands and respects Lavi’s wishes, no matter how painful they are for her. 

The first morning of his midterms include his German class, as well as his core science class. The German he isn’t worried about. The class is basically just him refreshing what he already knows, but science is not his strong suit. He manages through the test, but he thinks he cuts it close. 

The second morning is math and Musicianship. He has to sing a few different things, but the worst part of the entire class is needing to aurally identify music forms. He can handle minor and major scale, dictation and modal melodies, but he doesn’t know  anything about music forms. He never really picked up that skill when he was bar hopping across the world with his godfather. There probably wasn’t a single person in any of those places that even knew what Rondo or Ternary or Strophic meant. Allen had certainly never seen the words before. 

Luckily, he has a good ear. Dictation is one of his strongest skills, and being able to listen closely to a piece and pick it apart helps. So long as he can actually remember what each part is called, anyway. 

The third and final morning is just music theory. Fucking music theory. As he sits at his desk and stares at the paper in front of him, he wants to cry a little. 

Going into NOCCA, he thought it was just...understanding what music is and how to properly apply that knowledge. Like, maybe, understanding note reading, or what an inversion is. 

But no. No, of course it’s more. 

What the fuck is twelve-tone serialism?? Did they just make it up? The words on the paper don’t ring a single bell in his mind. He tries to reread the question to try to find some sort of context, but it just includes words like Dodecaphony and other made up terms. 

Even though he’s pretty sure his teacher put a lot of random words on the exam, he finishes it. Some of it is easy, like scales or key signatures, but the rest of it is probably just made up to throw them off. He wants to believe that, at least. 

They let the seniors leave early after they finish their exams, and Allen heads right home to eat himself into a stupor and sleep for as long as he possibly can. He thinks he deserves it.

He gets a phone call from Lenalee that night, a very long and draining call about...sociology? Maybe? Allen is still half asleep listening to her. He wipes his eyes and yawns, adding in little words when she pauses for breath to try to signify he’s listening, even if he can’t make sense of any of the words she’s saying. 

He looks at the time on his phone. It’s well after ten.

“Lenalee, I’m sorry. Words have lost all meaning to me. I had to look at terms like scalar transposition and diminution today, and my brain is melted. It’s just goop.”

She stops in her rant about...maybe positivism? Whatever that is? “Oh, Allen,” she coos, and he thinks if he was next to her she’d be petting his hair patronizingly. “Clearly diminution is about...diminishing something, probably?” She’s not really wrong, but she’s missing his point. 

“The point stands, Lenalee. I can’t language anymore.”

“Oh, hold on, that’s Lavi,” she interjects. “I’mma conference him in.” 

“Lenaleeeee!” Allen cries. He just doesn’t have the energy for anything related to Lavi right now. 

But Lenalee conferences Lavi in anyway, and sure enough as soon as the line is added, there’s an explosion of noise that makes him pull his phone away from his ear and grimaces. 

“Lena, Lena!” Lavi exclaims, then he pauses. “Oh, hey, Al,” he greets for a brief second, and then goes right back to yelling. “Guess what I learned!”

She laughs softly. “What’s that?”

“Yu’s concentration! This is not a drill! I repeat, this is not a drill!”

Concentration? What in the world is Lavi talking about? “Oh?! Wait, how?” Lenalee seems to understand, somehow, and sounds excited.

“I might have gotten his transcripts.”

“Okay, first of all - how? That sounds illegal. Second of all, and more importantly, what is it?”

“Wait, I’m lost,” Allen groans. “What are you talking about?”

“Okay, okay,” Lavi exhales, clearly worked up. “Yu is a Sophomore in college, but he never told us what he was studying!”

Allen takes a sip of his soda that sits on his bedside table. “I thought it was science?”

“There’s a lot of different sciences, Al!”

He guesses that is true, but he doesn’t have a lot of experience in knowing what all they are. Biology, chemistry, physics? Is there anything more? There’s gotta be, right?

“Wait, Lavi, back to the first question. How in the world did you get his transcripts?” Lenalee asks again. 

Lavi hums, “Oh, nothing major. I just called UNO’s admissions department and said I needed his transcripts because he was transferring colleges.”

“Wait, what ?”

“Yeah, I created a fake email and everything.”

“Lavi. That is - what if Kanda gets in trouble?”

“Oh, he won’t! I plan to call back next week and tell them he changed his mind.” 

Even Allen admits that’s going a little far. “He’s going to kill you if he finds out.”

“Which is why he will never find out!” Lavi has a slight tremor in his voice.

Lenalee sighs. “Well, it’s already done. Go ahead, I am really curious.”

“Botany!”

The line goes dead silent. Allen could almost believe that the call dropped, that’s how quiet it is. It takes several very long seconds for his brain to catch up. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Allen stutters. “Botany? As in...plants?”

“The very same!”

“Are we talking about the same Kanda? Maybe you got the transcripts mixed up.”

“Oh, definitely not. It had his birthdate on it! June 6th, 2001!”

“No, no,” Lenalee starts, slowly. “It makes sense.”

“How?!” Allen screeches, his voice cracking. He’s having a really hard time wrapping his head around the enigma that is Kanda. Landscape paintings on his walls, studying to become a florist...it just doesn’t make sense to Allen. 

“Didn’t Tiedoll have a huge garden in their backyard? Kanda never really spoke about it, but I bet Tiedoll sparked his interest,” Lenalee says thoughtfully. 

Tiedoll? Kanda’s father? 

“Oh right! He called it Eden, didn’t he?” Lavi asks. “That was a while ago now.”

“I wonder if Kanda’s been keeping it up…”

“Haven’t you both been to Kanda’s house before?” Allen asks, curious. Shouldn’t they know if he has a huge garden behind his house?

Lenalee pauses. “Not in a while, no. He doesn’t really like people over.”

Allen drops his mobile, stunned. Thankfully it just falls on his sheets, and he scrambles to pick it back up. “What?” he asks weakly. 

“Yeah, no,” Lavi agrees. “We just pick him up and stuff, he doesn’t let us inside.” There’s a tiny pause. “Wait, is that why you asked for his address? You went to his house? Did he let you in??”

Allen squeaks, fumbling the phone in his ear, trying to make sure it doesn’t fall again. “You got his address?” Lenalee asks, obviously confused. “When?”

“Uh, ah, um. Oh, uh, I have to, uh, get some fresh water for Tim. You know, Timcampy, my bird? I told you I had a bird right? He needs water. He looks really thirsty.” Tim helpfully chirps when Allen looks at him in his cage.

“Allen Walker!” Lenalee barks, and he flinches. “Did something happen?”

“Wow, full name, dude,” Lavi breathes. “You’re in trouble.”

“He’s not - he’s not in trouble!” Lenalee continues. “What happened?”

“Uh, I don’t. I’m not. Does he really not let you two in the house?”

“No,” they both say at the same time. 

“Allen, when did this happen?” Lenalee asks, and her voice is a bit less grating now. “I didn’t know anything about this. Did Kanda do something cruel again? Is it why you...disappeared for a month? ”

“Uh, actually, it’s the opposite.” He clears his throat. This is not good. Abort mission. Abort mission. “My bird has collapsed. I need to get him some water.”

“Don’t you hang up this phone, Allen!”

“We’re gonna find out eventually,” Lavi inputs. “Did something happen between you two?” Somehow, he’s the calmest one on the phone. It’s unsettling. 

“So. Uh. Don’t tell Kanda I told you guys. Nothing really happened. It’s just. I was feeling bad about myself and I went there. It’s not that I didn’t think you guys could help, I just-!”

“We get it, Allen,” Lenalee tells him, gently. “Go on.”

“We just talked. Sort of. He probably only let me in because I looked so pathetic, though.”

Lavi laughs. “Yeah, no, Al. I don’t think that’s why he let you in.”

“Anyway. It helped. He helped. I think - ah, I think, maybe he…” Allen blinks looking down at his lap. “We might be more alike than different.”

Neither Lenalee nor Lavi say anything to that at first. “Dude, I think y’all are in love,” Lavi gasps. “But like, for real this time!”

This is exactly why he didn’t want them to know. They’re going to get the wrong idea.

“We are not in love! Kanda just. He understands. I lost...my father, six years ago.”

“Oh…” Lenalee whispers. 

They must have some inkling now, of what Allen means. They know about what happened to Tiedoll, they were there for it. 

“Damn, sorry,” Lavi apologizes, sounding sheepish. “That wasn’t cool, teasing you. I didn’t know.”

“I don’t talk about it much,” Allen assures him. “It wasn’t anything personal.”

“Of course not,” Lenalee tells him. “Of course. We understand. Kanda doesn’t really talk about what happened with Tiedoll, either.”

And now this phone call is really depressing and he’s getting sad. “Anyway, don’t tell Kanda. I don’t think he’ll want a rumor to go around that he’s got a heart.”

Lavi chuckles. “We are sworn to secrecy! Promise!”

“Good,” Allen smiles. “But we are allowed to tease him about his dream of being a florist, right?”

“Oh, abso-fucking-lutely,” Lavi says, and Allen can hear his smile even if he can’t see it. 

“You two really have a death wish,” Lenalee sighs. 

Teasing Kanda is always worth it. He smiles to himself, remembering the way Kanda looked at him before he left. He likes to think maybe Kanda won’t wish death on him next time.

Chapter Text

Halloween is apparently a big deal to Lavi, who swears that they have to do group costumes. Allen doesn’t really know what this entails, beyond the fact that he has to give Lavi his size so that he can get Allen’s costume. While it is nice to feel included, he can’t help but be frightened.

Lenalee finds out before the rest of them, and Allen knows it’s bad when she won’t even tell him. 

“If I tell you,” she had laughed, “You’ll almost definitely say no.”

It does not inspire confidence.

But at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter what the costumes are. This is going to be his first Halloween with friends in...a very long time. He’s excited. Besides, it can’t be that bad.

He was wrong. He was so very, very, very wrong. It is that bad.

“Lavi, I’m not wearing this.” Allen looks at his outfit as if it's a vicious, wild animal. Something to fear. 

“Don’t be a spoil sport, Al!” Lavi exclaims, adjusting his blond wig. “It’s gonna be fun.”

“Your definition of fun is cruel and sadistic.”

“My version of fun is genius. Just think, you’ll get to see Yu in his costume, too.”

Allen has seen the piece of media in question and can hazard a very good guess as to Kanda’s role in all this. He flushes furiously as images he cannot shove away appear in his mind.

“Thinking something lewd already?” Lavi asks. “You haven’t even seen him yet!”

“Honestly, Lavi, there is no chance in hell that Kanda is going to agree to this.”

“Oh, you would be surprised,” Lavi nods, sagely. “There are many things you have yet to learn about Yu. He has very little shame and cares even less what other people think about him.”

Allen looks at his outfit again. The red wig, the blue shirt, the...the… “Lavi, I can’t wear a skirt.”

“And why not? If I can, you can.”

“Let me rephrase that. Lavi, I will not wear a skirt.”

“Al, buddy, just face it. You are a classic Cady Heron. Embrace it. You are the main character. The slightly awkward new addition to the group from across the pond! And I mean...is there anyone more Regina George than Yu?”

“And I presume you’re Karen, from the wig.”

“It’s like my boobs have ESPN or something,” Lavi returns, perfectly mimicking Amanda Seyfried. 

Allen looks back to his outfit. “Is Lenalee Gretchen, then?”

Lavi nods. “Yep! And Emilia is Aaron Samuels. I thought it was perfect.” Lavi zips up his hot pink miniskirt, and Allen has no idea how he’s going to survive the night.

“I might die of embarrassment, you realize.”

“You’ll be fine. Honestly, you’ll fit in!"

“Lavi…” Allen says, cautious. “What does that mean?”

“We’re going to a drag bar!”

Allen has experience with bars of many kinds. Drag bars are not one of them. He pulls down his miniskirt, freezing cold as well as completely mortified, sticking close behind Lavi as he manages to walk down Bourbon street in heels. Lavi doesn’t seem bothered at all, honestly, chatting animatedly with Emilia as she accompanies them. 

She’s pretty, was the first thing Allen noticed. She has a nice smile, too, and she seems quite motherly, which Allen figures works out well for Lavi, who needs constant attention and care. But she isn’t Lenalee, and that makes him a little upset. It’s not Lavi’s fault, nor is it Emilia’s, but it still seems like a disservice to someone he considers the best friend he’s ever had.

Kanda and Lenalee are coming in a separate car, apparently. Lenalee texted him before they left to say that Kanda was taking a lot of convincing, which Allen wasn’t too surprised at, but eventually Kanda acquiesced. Lavi was right. He is going to show up in a skimpy outfit. Right in front of Allen. For the entire night. 

Allen is sure he is going to die. 

They end up towards the end of Bourbon street, where there’s a very long line to get into the bar they’re trying to enter. It’s an eighteen and up event, so Allen doesn’t have to be snuck in, or make a deal with a bouncer, at least. Still, it feels like they’re going to be waiting forever. 

They don’t stick out, though. Another thing Lavi was on the nose about. There are people in all sorts of colorful outfits, and they definitely aren’t the only ones in drag. Allen shoves down the urge to wipe at his eyes, knowing he’ll smear mascara, and groans. This is not an experience he ever expected to have, and that’s really saying something for him. 

By the time they get into the bar, with Allen having a snazzy blue wristband on to specify that he’s under twenty one, he’s gotten a text from Lenalee that she and Kanda are waiting in line. Lavi is already at the bar with Emilia, sitting on stools and laughing, and Allen doesn’t really know what to do with himself. He sits down on the other side of Lavi primly, making sure his skirt doesn’t ride up and show anyone anything he doesn’t want them to see. He folds his hands on the bar and glances at the wall of alcohol when his entire field of vision is taken up by a very large man. 

He is also in drag, with a high updo, giant earrings, more makeup than Allen’s ever seen on anyone , and...fake boobs. “Oh, honey!” The bartender coos. “Aren’t you just adorable! Sweet enough to eat up! You need something?”

Shyly, Allen holds up his wrist to show his arm band. He’s glad Cady wears long sleeves so he doesn’t have to wear gloves, at least. Lavi had glanced down at his bare hand, noticed it was stark black, but said nothing. Allen was grateful. Tonight is certainly not the night for that conversation. Luckily, in the low lighting it really just looks like a tattoo.

“Oh, that’s alright! Jerry will fix you up real good. What you need, sweetie?”

Allen doesn’t really drink booze, but figures that tonight is as good a night as any to become an alcoholic. “Uh,” he starts. “Vodka soda?”

“What sort, Handsome?”

He didn’t bring a ton of money with him. “Skyy is fine.” 

“You got it!” 

Jerry gets to work on the simple drink while Allen just looks around. Another bartender took Lavi and Emilia’s drink orders, and they’re still focused on each other, so he lets his eyes roam. 

There are a lot of people here. So many that it’s almost comforting. There’s a sort of anonymity in a large group of people. No one is looking at him; there’s certainly more interesting characters than him here tonight. 

His eyes continue to scan the room as Jerry places his drink down in front of him and pats his hand. He sips idly, playing with the tiny straw and watching the drink fizz, wondering what Cross would say if he could see Allen now. Probably nothing nice.

He goes to take another drink when he feels a poke on his shoulder.

He looks up, startled, to see Lenalee. She’s just curled her dark green hair in a style similar to Gretchen’s. “That outfit is, like, so fetch,” she grins. 

He is ready with a retort with some other line from the movie when he notices Kanda behind her. 

Allen promptly spills half of his drink on his lap. The skirt is short enough that it just falls on his thighs, but it’s cold as hell and he yelps as he wipes it off. 

“Are you okay?” Lenalee asks, laughing. Allen sputters, barely noticing when her eyes drift to Lavi and Emilia. 

His mind is on one single track, though, and it is not at all innocent. He looks at Kanda again, as if to convince himself that this is real life, and is very glad he set his glass back on the bar top before doing so. He’d probably just spill it again. 

Kanda forwent a wig, which is honestly fine. His hair is down, has a cute pink clip holding his bangs away from his face, and Allen cannot help himself from raking his eyes down, seeing where Kanda’s hair falls down his chest over his tight white blouse. Below that is a pleated miniskirt. 

Allen stops there, unsure if he could take the heart attack that would accompany seeing Kanda’s bare thighs. 

With a trembling hand, he grabs the rest of his vodka soda and downs it all in one go. 

Kanda plops down on the seat next to Allen, then, throwing his hair over his shoulder and waving Jerry over, but Allen does not miss the way Kanda’s eyes are trained somewhere around the edge of Allen’s skirt. Allen tries very hard not to fidget. 

“Oh, how cute! You all match!” Jerry exclaims, clapping his hands together. “You want another one, Sugar?” Jerry points at Allen’s empty glass, and Allen nods dumbly in response. “And what about you, Hot Stuff?”

Kanda makes a low growling noise in the back of his throat. “Straight fucking whiskey. Strongest and cheapest you got.”

Jerry gives a theatrical, full body shiver. “Ooh! So manly!” and spins off on his heel. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembers Lenalee, and searches for her. She’s sitting on the other side of Emilia, talking with her and Lavi, and Allen can’t help but be worried about her. She looks fine, though. She must be used to it. 

Allen’s brain, satisfied that Lenalee is not a sobbing mess, is once again brought back to the man sitting next to him. He chances looking over at him, ready to start some sort of conversation so he doesn’t just sit here like an idiot all night, but all words leave him when he looks at Kanda again. All words except the ones on repeat in his mind. “You look ravishing.” 

It takes him a moment to realize he said that out loud. He only really notices when he sees Kanda’s shocked, embarrassed expression. 

Unable to take the pain of living, Allen leans his head down on his arms and groans. “Leave me here to die. I can’t believe I said that.” At least the long red hair of his wig blocks any and all peripheral vision. He can just stay here forever and never look at Kanda again. 

Kanda collects his words. “Very fuckin’ bold, Beansprout.” He clears his throat, but Allen is sure he catches the slight tremble. “Nice skirt.” 

Allen makes a high pitched noise in the back of his throat and yanks down on the hem of the skirt in an attempt to cover more skin. 

“I didn’t say it like it was a bad thing, idiot,” Kanda finishes, sounding a little breathy. 

Allen feels his body heat up; every inch of skin is immediately aflame, and he realizes they need to stop this train of conversation immediately, or else Allen is just going to embarrass himself further. 

Jerry places another drink in front of him, and Allen quickly snatches it up to take huge gulps. “I’m going to need a lot more of these,” he murmurs. 

Kanda snorts. “Same.”

Allen takes another sip of his drink, tucking a piece of red hair away from his face and peeking over at Kanda from the corner of his eye. The man is just drinking his whiskey, seemingly unaffected now. It’s unfair, really. How can Kanda just do this to him and then act like he’s perfectly innocent. This is all a plot to punish Allen, isn’t it? It’s his own brand of hell?

“You don’t have to keep pretending you aren’t watching me,” Kanda rolls his eyes. “You aren’t discreet, you fuckin’ Brit.”

“Well,” Allen starts, puffing out his chest a bit, indignant. “Well…!”

“Yeah?”

“Well…!” He can’t think of anything else to say. His stupid, traitorous mouth fails him again. He thinks these Vodka sodas are too strong. “Well, I can’t help it! You’re ravishing!” He’s done it again. Oh no. “I mean, I want to ravish you. I mean, oh, cor fucking blimey, fucking hell.” He drops his head down. “Put me out of my misery. Take me out back and shoot me. I’m sure you want to. Just do it already.” 

Kanda snickers at him, he hears it before he sees it. He looks up, blearily, breath picking up at Kanda’s smile. Not a sadistic, psycho smile either. A real smile. 

“Goddamnit you are - you are - you are so fucking pretty. Pretty Boy.” Allen doesn’t even ask, Jerry just sets another drink down. Maybe he feels bad for Allen. Maybe this is a form of putting him out of his misery - alcohol poisoning. He’s gonna need about ten more. 

Kanda is fully smiling now, drinking his whiskey slowly, eyes full of mirth. He’s happy, Allen realizes, not irritated, put off, or embarrassed. He should at least have the decency to feel as mortified as Allen does, but no dice. Kanda looks downright pleased. 

Allen cannot imagine why. He must get some sort of joy out of Allen’s pain and suffering. 

“Goddamn, Beansprout. Tell me how you really feel.” Kanda laughs, soft. Allen is, so, so done for. He doesn’t know what it means, but he knows he’s in trouble. Deep trouble. 

He takes another gulp of drink, then another, then another before Kanda gently pries it from his hands. Good idea. Or is it? If he drinks enough, maybe he can forget this even happened. 

“I feel sad,” Allen laments, laying his head on his arms, but this time not burying his face. He looks at Kanda, taking in the angles and curves of his features, the way his hair falls, and he finally gives in. He reaches over with his bare left hand and runs his fingers through Kanda’s hair. “I wanna like you. I wanna let myself...like you.” He hiccups. “You’re pretty. Very pretty.” Kanda’s eyes close and he swallows hard as Allen continues to run his hand through Kanda’s hair, scratching at the nape of his neck. It occurs belatedly to Allen that they are in public and their friends are next to them, easily able to witness the entire exchange. He doesn’t care. “You’re so pretty, and you could like me, too. I know you could. We both hurt. We both - we both…” Allen trails off, feeling tears prickle at his eyes. “Did I mention you look ravishing yet?”

Kanda’s voice is definitely shaking when he says, “No, not yet.”

“Oh. You’re ravishing. Not just tonight. Always.” He picks up a piece of Kanda’s hair and twirls it around his fingers. “I’ve wanted to feel your hair for a while.” 

“Beansprout, you should stop.”

“Why?” Allen asks, smiling, feeling lightheaded. 

“You’re fucking drunk.”

“Maybe.” 

“You don’t mean anything you’re saying.”

“Unfortunately,” a hiccup. “I mean all of it.”

He feels soft, warm fingers at the nape of his neck, pushing underneath his wig. “Idiot,” Kanda says softly. He says it like a lover might say Darling. 

Allen drops his hand, feeling very sleepy. He doesn’t know how much time passes before Kanda speaks again, but feels his head clouding further with each second that passes. 

“Okay, dumbass. Time’s up.” 

This makes Allen a tiny bit more alert. Kanda is reaching into his wallet and leaves enough money to pay for both of their drinks. “Huh?”

“ Time's  up. I’m taking you home.” 

“Your home?” 

Kanda flushes. “No, stupid. Your house.” 

“But we just got here!” 

“And now we’re leaving, before you make even more of a fool of yourself.” Allen pushes himself into an upright position, looking around. Of course, the other three are all staring at him with varying expressions. “Give me your fuckin’ keys,” Kanda snaps at Lenalee, holding out his hand. 

She doesn’t argue with him at all. She just drops her set of keys in Kanda’s hand. 

“Come on, you little shit,” Kanda grunts, grabbing Allen’s arm and helping him off the stool. “It was just three drinks. Jesus.” 

“I don’t…I don’t drink a lot. Sorry.” 

“Yeah, for good fucking reason.” 

Kanda helps him out of the bar, to the street, and this is likely a difficult job considering Allen’s legs feel a bit like jelly. He laughs. He likes jelly. 

“What the fuck do you find funny about this?” 

“I like jelly,” Allen says merrily. Kanda just groans and continues to help him back to the parking garage where he and Lenalee must have parked. 

“You’re really a handful, Beansprout.” 

“Yeah. Hey, do you think I’m pretty?” 

“What?!” Kanda’s voice gets much higher than usual. 

“Well. I think you’re…very nice looking. I know I look weird but I wondered if…maybe you…thought I was pretty.” 

“What’s the point of even asking? You think you’ll remember any of this tomorrow?” 

Kanda practically drags Allen into the elevator of the parking garage. “The…point is it’ll make me happy…” He leans heavily against the side of the elevator, fingers gripping Kanda’s arm to keep himself steady. “Hey, will you kiss me?” He looks up at Kanda from under his lashes.

This request Kanda shuts down immediately. “No. Fuck no. You’re drunk. I’m not that much of a piece of shit.” 

“I’m not that drunk,” Allen pouts. 

“You are drunk enough.” 

“What if I wasn’t drunk?”

“Then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Kanda groans again. “I don’t even know why I’m fucking bothering. This conversation is pointless.” 

The elevator doors bing and open wide. Kanda drags him to where Allen assumes the car is. “Wha..?”

Kanda looks down at him, eyebrows drawn together. “You’re an idiot. You don’t want to kiss me, you’re just drunk and horny.” 

Allen nuzzles his arm. “No, I want to.”

“You don’t,” Kanda grits out.

Once they get to the car, Kanda gently jostles Allen into the passenger seat and clicks his seatbelt in place. Allen grabs his arm before he can get away. “Has anyone ever told you you’re really nice?” 

“No.” 

“Oh. I think you’re nice to me.”

“You have a fucked up definition of nice.” 

“Hey,” Allen whines, tugging on Kanda’s arm. “Kiss me. I wanna kiss you.”

Kanda seems to be at war. If he was in his right mind, maybe Allen could decode what he’s thinking. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Allen Walker,” Kanda whispers, and then he brushes back the bangs of Allen’s wig, leans down, and kisses his forehead. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Allen frowns, but he’s getting sleepy and comfortable in his seat. 

“I know,” Kanda replies, slamming the passenger door shut. 

He wakes up the next morning in a skirt and with a growing feeling of dread. He sits up, looking around, noticing he’s in his bedroom, and lets out a long exhale. Unfortunately, Kanda was wrong. 

Allen remembers all of it. 

He falls back on his bed with a groan. The entire night was one big bad idea, and Allen should have seen it a mile away, but he supposes he couldn’t have really known. He didn’t want to air out all of his own dirty laundry, but there’s no taking it back now. 

His hands twitch, breath catching in his throat as he remembers Kanda’s lips brushing his forehead. 

He never really made a hard and fast rule about boundaries, just had a vague idea of what is and isn't okay, and now he deeply regrets that. He’s never been in this situation, though. 

He grips his blanket, looking over to the side to see his mobile on his bedside table. He feels his gut clench as he reaches for it. He can only imagine what the others are saying; Kanda was right to take him away before he became an even bigger idiot. 

He taps the screen, seeing just a few messages. As he unlocks his phone, he sees they’re all from Lenalee and Lavi. There’s nothing from Kanda, which is probably for the best but makes his sinking feeling worse. 

He opens Lenalee’s messages first. I hope you’re okay, Allen. You seemed to have a really bad case of word vomit, and you may wake up hating yourself. Don’t get too upset, though, please. 

It’s gonna be okay. 

Is it gonna be okay? Lavi, Lenalee, and Kanda all have specific roles in his life , and Kanda’s is the most unique. He’s never met anyone like Kanda. Someone that can understand him without saying a word. He doesn’t want to lose the friendship they’d been slowly cultivating. 

He opens Lavi’s message. I don’t want to say I told you so but…phew! 

I don’t think I’ve seen Yu looking that happy in a long time. Thank you. 

Allen makes a soft, sad noise and throws his mobile on the bed. He doesn’t want to know that, he really doesn’t. 

He lays in bed for a while longer, staring at the ceiling and contemplating his life choices. He wishes he had at least kept his comments to just Kanda’s attractiveness, but apparently short skirt + alcohol = Allen being stupid as hell.

He acknowledged…whatever was happening. Brought it out into the open. Made it real. He never wanted to make it real; he never wanted to show that much of himself to anyone. He feels raw, aching. Kanda is quickly learning things about him no one else knows, and now he knows what missing part Allen lost, too. 

It’s too much. Being around Kanda in general makes him act stupid. He isn’t ready to face what it means, that his heart and mind aren’t listening to each other. Allen knows nothing good can come of being in a relationship when he can’t give 100% of himself to it, but his heart wants. It aches. It’s reaching out for more companionship, more understanding. Like a drug he can’t quit, he can’t let Kanda go. His heart is scrambling towards the other man, desperately ignoring all rational thought. 

What point is there in dating anyone seriously if it’s just going to end with everyone hurting? If it was just attraction, Allen would be fine, but it isn’t. It isn’t. His chest wouldn’t feel like this if it was. 

He wishes, selfishly, that Cross would take them away from here. He wishes he could forcibly put literal distance between them. He might long for Kanda for a little bit, but then it would go away. It would have to. While he’s still here he just won’t be able to leave it alone. 

He’s not so stupid that he won’t recognize this for what it is. 

It’s Kanda’s breath on his cheeks while they glare at each other, his secret smile when no one else is looking, his quiet strength when Allen needs it. He aches, literally and figuratively, like he’s a parched man and Kanda is the only way to feel better. How is he supposed to keep going like this? 

How in the hell does Lenalee do it? How does she keep a brave face in front of Lavi? Practice, maybe? She’s lived with it a lot longer than Allen. 

He climbs out of bed and walks over his keyboard, plugging in his headphones and positioning his hands.

A, G, A, G, D. 

The notes ring out simple and clear in his headphones. He wishes Mana didn’t have to die. He wishes he could just be normal. 

Next to him, sitting on the bench, is a dark figure with a broad smile. A black hole where a person should be, humming along to the song. 

He looks down at his dark left hand, and switches the song. Music always helps sort him out, and before he’s even realized the song stuck in his mind he starts to play it, singing softly around his cracking voice, raw from just waking up. When he’s finished, feeling as raw as his voice, he rests his head on his keyboard, clenching his teeth and trying to get around the balloon of pain in his chest. 

Chapter Text

“So that’s the importance of extended chords in jazz piano, especially for the seventh, ninth, eleventh, and thirteenth. When composing, diversity is what’s important. Blending that melody with chord progression is what makes jazz music jazz.”

The guest speaker at the front of the room somehow manages to make impossible concepts easy to understand. Usually, these new things leave Allen feeling like he’s trying to learn a foreign language, but this he understands. 

“Any questions? Use your voice now, I won’t be able to tell if you raised your hand,” he chuckles.

It’s a room full of teenagers ready to get out of class, so of course there aren’t any questions. 

The speaker - Noise Marie, he’s called - smiles. He probably didn’t expect any questions, either. “Well, thank you all for listening to me today. I hope you all come to my jazz piano master class later, that’s when you can see theory morph into application.”

Allen looks down at his desk, running a gloved finger along the marks in it. He needs to go to the grocery after school, and then he needs to take Cross’s car to get an oil change tomorrow morning. And oh, right, he did promise his math teacher he would finish that extra credit. 

He frowns at the marks in the desk, as if all of his problems are their fault. He feels like he’s forgetting something he needed to do. Ah, he needs to start making a list. 

“You seem to be lost in thought.”

Allen looks up, sees the guest speaker standing by his desk. Marie isn’t looking right at him, milky blue gaze trained a little to the left, but Allen is still shocked.

“You’ve been sitting at your desk, just breathing, even though the rest of the class already left.”

Allen looks around and sure enough - everyone else is gone. He bites his bottom lip. “Sorry,” he mumbles, moving to get up. 

“No need,” Marie offers, waving a hand. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, it’s Allen Walker.”

“Oh, Allen! I had heard you were going here. I’m glad you were in this lesson today.”

That stops Allen right in his tracks. “Um?”

Marie points at himself, smiling. “I’m Kanda Yu’s older brother.”

Motherfucker. No way. 

The mask goes up. “Oh,” Allen laughs. “Lenalee had mentioned that his brother helped here sometimes, but I had never gotten your name. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. And she told me you have a talent for the piano.”

“She’s exaggerating,” Allen smiles, politely. 

“No need to be so modest!” Marie laughs. “I heard your audition tape. There’s a lot of feeling in your music. It’s clear you’ve passed up most musicians your age.”

“Oh, I don’t think so at all! Most of this class goes over my head.”

“That’s not what I mean. You can know every piece of music theory there is, get perfect scores on every test, and still write awful music. You know why? Because good music isn’t something you can just learn. Good music has soul. It has feeling. Someone taught you, a long time ago, from their heart. They didn’t teach you what an interval is, or a tritone. They taught you how to express yourself, and that gives you a leg up over a lot of the other seniors walking around this campus. You can have all the technical skill in the world, Allen, and not be able to do what you did during your audition.”

Allen takes a step back from Marie. His mask is perfectly in place, but it does him no good here. He bumps a desk behind him. 

Eight years old. Sitting on a piano bench in an old church in Manchester. He looks to the side and there’s just a hole in his memory where a person should be. Piano keys dance and play as if the musician were a ghost, invisible but corporeal. 

“ Allen ,” the hole in his memory says. “ When we play a song, it’s like making a wish. We’re asking people to see us and accept us and love us. Even the nasty parts. So if you ever feel something really strong that you can’t say out loud, play a song, show it to someone.” In his memory, Allen sees both of his own pale hands resting on the keys. The ghost doesn’t seem to mind, reaching over him to press a higher key. “If someone hears our wish and they grant it? Well, it’s the best feeling in the world.”

“I have to...I have to go,” Allen mumbles out, grabbing his backpack from where it is on the ground, not missing Marie’s frown. He knows that he’s just concerning the man, but he has to get out of here. If he’s lucky, Marie and Lenalee aren’t close enough that he’ll tell her what happened. 

He runs off campus, holding his bag tight as he does so. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just runs to get away from the memory. From the hole there, where there should be a person. He chokes around cold November air, but doesn’t stop running until he’s somehow ended up at the park he first met Mimi at. 

He heaves, falling onto a bench and unceremoniously dropping his bag next to him. The sky is a dull gray when he looks up at it, and he closes his eyes. 

He wishes he could put a mask on for himself. When he gets those shocks of a memory, they always knock the wind out of him. Who is that, playing piano with him? It couldn’t be Mana, he knows it wasn’t Mana. So who is it? How could he forget someone who taught him such an integral part of himself?

He hears a soft jingle and feels a light pressure bump his arm. Shocked, his eyes open, and he sees Mimi, purring and rubbing her cheek against him. “Oh,” he whispers softly, petting her head. “It’s you again.”

“Mimi!”

A feminine voice rings out. Allen searches for the source of it, and finds a woman a few years older than him with blonde hair running towards him. She’s in business attire, jogging across the grass in heels, and he wonders briefly how difficult that is. He wore heels on solid concrete and hated every second of it. She scoops the cat up in her arms once she’s close enough, petting Mimi and making a face at her. “I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes to Allen. “She has a habit of running out when I open the door.”

“Oh,” Allen says weakly. “That’s okay. I’m glad you found her.”

“She always seems to find her way back home when it’s time for dinner, but I wish she wouldn’t do this so often.” The woman scratches below Mimi’s chin, who gives a delighted meow. “Always bothering people, aren’t you Mimi?” She asks the cat. 

Allen wants to insist it wasn’t a bother, because it wasn’t, but he doesn’t really have it in him to talk to a stranger right now. 

The woman shakes blonde hair from her face, and Allen notices her earrings are little bells that jingle like Mimi’s collar when she does so. “Anyway, thanks for keeping her attention. She can be a fast one.”

Mimi meows happily, bumping her head into the woman’s face as they walk off. 

Allen looks down at his hands, drained. He wants...something. He doesn’t know what. He wonders if going home to play piano might help, but how could it when he doesn’t even understand himself? He thinks about going to Lenalee, putting up the mask and letting her distract him with bad movies while she paints his nails. He thinks about heading to a restaurant and eating the biggest plate of food he can find; about curling up in bed and letting Tim sing him a song to sleep. 

He thinks about Kanda, and his strong silence. He thinks about breaking that silence with a distraction even better than bad movies, about moving against him, driving out every bad thought until there’s nothing left but the two of them. He thinks about warm, tight embraces, gentle kisses on the column of his throat. He thinks about dark eyes that steal his breath away.

He thinks about all the things his dreams have so happily supplied him with. 

Instead of doing any of those things he stands up and grabs his bag to go grocery shopping like Cross asked him to. 

November passes quickly. He goes on like nothing happened, and Lenalee never mentions the little episode he had at school so he assumes Marie never told her. Lavi comes down for fall break, but Allen has never celebrated Thanksgiving for obvious reasons, so it doesn’t mean much to him. Still, it’s nice to see Lavi again. He doesn’t bring Emilia with him this time - she’s gone to France to see her family, and so it feels a bit like old times.

Lenalee invites him over to her house for Thanksgiving dinner, and if there’s ever an event Allen will not pass up, it’s an event revolving around food. 

Thanksgiving Day is the chilliest it’s been since he arrived in New Orleans. It doesn’t mean much compared to the cold he felt in the U.K., but it’s a nice reprieve from the summer. He bundles up with a cable knit sweater, dark jeans, and a light jacket for the dinner, and he smells the feast as soon as Lenalee opens the door.

He’s met Komui before, but only once. Usually Lenalee invites Allen over and drags him straight to her room, saying something about how weird her brother is and how she really doesn’t want him to speak with Allen. The one time he did actually speak with Komui, it was when he saw the brother and sister pair out shopping. Komui seemed pleasant enough, smiling brightly and talking animatedly, but he always made a point to just take Lenalee’s word for it and avoid him if he can.

There’s no avoiding him tonight, though. 

When he enters the kitchen, Komui and Lenalee are wearing matching aprons. Lavi was the one to let him in, and it’s clearly because the two people cooking are very focused on their tasks. Lenalee places two sheet trays of bread rolls into the oven and wipes her bangs from her forehead as Komui furiously mixes whatever is in the giant red bowl in his hands.

“Allen!” Lenalee exclaims, dusting off her pink apron and running over to him. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and he sways a little from the motion. “I’m so glad you made it.”

Allen smiles politely. “Of course. I wouldn’t have missed it.”

Komui, he notices, is still in the kitchen, but he’s glaring at Allen as he somehow mixes whatever is in his bowl even more furiously. 

Allen clears his throat and gingerly unwraps Lenalee’s arms from him. This seems to make Komui’s shoulders relax. He must be very protective of Lenalee. “Thank you for inviting me over,” he offers.

Komui sets down his mixing bowl, faces the wall for a moment, and then turns around with a smile. “You’re very welcome. Are you not spending Thanksgiving with your godfather?”

How does Komui know about Cross? Lenalee must have told him. “We don’t really celebrate Thanksgiving,” Allen chuckles awkwardly. They don’t really celebrate any holidays. Cross always calls it a waste of money.

“I see,” he says, nodding. He walks over to him, then, and envelops Allen in a hug as tight as Lenalee’s.

What is happening?

Allen awkwardly pats Komui’s back, perturbed and confused, and looks over at Lavi, who just grins and shrugs. This is normal, then.  “I’m so glad you decided to join us, Allen.”

Everything about this moment is weird. Neither Lavi or Lenalee seem impacted by this at all, though. Lenalee has already gotten back to cooking, and Lavi is just reclining and watching them. 

“Uh, thanks.”

Komui lets go of him then, gives him a fond look and ruffles his hair as if he’s a long lost relative, and then goes back to the kitchen.

Allen just stands there for a moment, not sure what just happened. 

“Yeah, he’s weird,” Lavi nods. “And that means something coming from me.”

Allen shakes his head and goes to sit on the barstool next to Lavi. “So,” he starts casually, completely uninterested. “Is Kanda coming?”

Lavi chuckles and shakes his head. “Hate to break your heart, but no. He celebrates with his brothers. Every holiday.”

Allen would, too, if he was Kanda. “That’s nice,” Allen returns, genuine. He’s also a little relieved. Seeing Kanda would be draining right now.

“Yeah,” Lavi agrees. “I think it sort of became this unspoken promise between them after Tiedoll...passed.”

Allen frowns, looking at the lines in the marbling of the bartop. “Well, family is important,” he settles on.

“What about you? Is your godfather all you have left?”

It’s a brutal question, but asked honestly. “Yes,” he whispers, letting his hair cover his face as he lowers it. Lavi puts a warm hand on his back.

“I’m sorry, Al. You’re too good for the bad things that happened to you.”

He rubs circles into Allen’s back, soothing. “It’s okay,” he exhales, shaky. 

“It’s not,” Lavi whispers back, leaning his head against Allen’s.

This is the side of Lavi that Lenalee sees. Love, underneath smiles and jokes. He catches her eye when she looks over at them, and she smiles softly. Safety. Lavi is warm, and comfortable. As long, deft fingers move up to pet the ends of his hair, Allen lets himself breathe, really breathe. Comfort. Love. Not everything has to be temporary. 

He grabs at Lavi’s arm and squeezes, an answer to Lavi’s offer of respite, and his friend lightly pulls a piece of Allen’s hair before leaning away. “You have us, too.” He grins when Allen looks at him. 

He does.

His life has not been rife with simple, platonic affection. It feels nice.

“While we’re in the moment,” Lavi goes on, voice low. “Will you tell me what’s going on with you and Yu?”

He’s said it low enough that Lenalee and Komui can’t hear them, the sounds of the kitchen easily covering his words. 

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Allen returns. Lavi is too straightforward sometimes. Allen can only take so much honesty at one time.

“Hey,” Lavi puts a hand on his shoulder. “Yu is my friend, too. I just want to make sure the two of you know what you’re doing.”

What they’re doing? Because Allen knows exactly what they're doing, and that’s the problem. He thinks about this enough on his own, he doesn’t want to talk about it with Lavi. He didn’t want Kanda there because he just wants one evening without him interrupting his thoughts.

“Lavi, I think you know we’re too messed up for each other.”

“Maybe that’s exactly why it’s perfect.”

“Or why it’s doomed.” He shakes his head, pitches his voice even lower. “I can’t, Lavi. I just can’t. Please leave it alone.”

“But you have feelings for him. He has feelings for you. I don’t get why you’re complicating this.”

Allen swallows. Assuming Kanda might feel the same as him is different from hearing it out loud. “You’re telling me you don’t understand?” He manages, looking at Lenalee. He knows this isn’t fair, but maybe it’ll help Lavi get what he’s doing. “You’re telling me that having feelings for someone is always simple?”

Lavi follows his gaze, inhaling sharply. He looks at Lenalee, then at Allen. “You mean, you…How’d you know?”

Allen gets dizzy, out of nowhere, at the realization these are not two people who don’t love each other. These are two people who believe their love is unrequited. “I didn’t,” Allen manages. “But you just told me.” 

“That’s dirty, Allen.”

“But it proved my point.”

He has a secret, now, that he has to keep from two people. 

Lavi shakes, but he still continues on. “Then you’re as much of a coward as I am.”

Allen can’t reply to that. He can’t. He doesn’t know what he’d say. There’s no way to win there.

“That’s kind of reassuring,” Lavi smiles, sad. “Pathetic, but reassuring.”

Allen catches Lenalee walking towards them, and is eternally grateful that this means the conversation will well and truly end. 

“Dinner will be ready soon,” She tells them, leaning down on the bar. “Why don’t the two of you set the table?”

There’s only two weeks of school left for this semester. Finals are a thorn in his side, in many ways, but a welcome distraction in others. School has made the days fly by - he can focus on something outside of himself. He builds on what he knows, learns new things, devotes himself to his music. He manages to successfully prevent any more unwanted memories, or unwelcome thoughts about a certain someone, and is happy for that. Life is easier when he just keeps walking forward, past the bad. 

He still manages to find time to spend with Lenalee, somehow. Sometimes Kanda is there, but it’s rare. Allen is fine with that, really.

All of his finals go well, even music theory, and he attributes that to his laser focus and single-minded determination. If he was studying, he wasn’t thinking about anything he doesn’t want to.

His last final is math, and it’s on Friday. Again, the seniors leave early, and Allen settles his backpack on his shoulder before heading towards the parking lot. He’s nearly to the edge of campus when he stops and looks back. He heads to the practice hall, finds one of the soundproof practice music rooms free, and settles in.

He’s been mostly practicing on his keyboard at home, since all he’s studying are musical elements. He plays songs when he wants, mostly, but hasn’t really dedicated extra time to playing on a real piano.

He runs a hand along the cover for the piano keys, and then lifts it. He feels compelled. Drawn, like he isn’t totally in control of his actions. Like someone else is guiding him.

He presses down on a key, listening for the sound like he always does, and closes his eyes. He gets his hands into position after that, eyes still closed, and softly sings as he starts to play. It’s a simple melody, something easy and comfortable. A, G, A, G, D. “ Falling fast asleep ,” he starts, trying out the words. “ May this little boy find blissful dreams… ”

Snow falling over the English countryside, his small hands warm in plush gloves. He laughs, spinning, and falls in a pile of damp snow. He watches as Mana leans over him, smiling. The song is sung from somewhere behind his father. It’s a lullaby, a song he’s never been able to forget. “ Among the ash and the flames that light up the night sky .” But he isn’t singing it anymore. It’s a different voice, a deeper voice. He knows it. 

Suddenly, the memory hits him like a truck, quite literally knocking the wind out of him. He gasps, melody stopping suddenly as he bends forward, clenching his eyes shut and his jaw tight. It feels like it’s being ripped from him, bloody and visceral. It comes from somewhere deep. 

The hole in his memory, that person, leaves an imprint in the drift, and Allen notices in horror that blood is seeping through the packed, white snow. It’s like it's absorbed into the earth, but leaves behind deep red stains. There’s no mistaking this. The hole in his memory flickers with brief color. 

It’s there. He’s there. Just for a second. 

He looks just like Mana, but he can’t be. He isn’t. Then the image goes away, leaving only that imprint in the snow. Who was that? Why does Allen feel so sad?

He feels dizzy when he comes back to himself, and the first thing he notices is that he isn’t in the practice room anymore. He’s standing at the edge of a river, cold water lapping at his ankles, soaking his socks and shoes. He doesn’t have his bag with him, but he does have his phone, he feels it in his pocket as he pulls it out. 

He doesn’t recognize anything around him. He hasn’t been here before. How did he get here? Who was that?

He’s lost a lot of time. He finished his exam a little before noon, and now it’s almost four in the afternoon.

He’s scared, wrapping his arms around himself, and he sinks down to the ground, uncaring that the water soaks through his jeans. He shakes violently, but it isn’t due to the cold. 

The person dying in the snow looked just like Mana. Who was he? Allen has to know. He has to, he can’t live not knowing. He swallows, despair swallowing him whole, and the lightheadedness spreads through the rest of him. He needs something. Anything. Anything other than this. He closes his eyes and now he sees himself dying in the snow.

He yelps, flinching. He’s never felt this scared in his life. Not during the blizzard that killed the real Mana, not while he was being chased by Cross’s debt collectors - no, this is different. It’s like the fear isn’t really his. He feels like he’s drowning, and the fear he feels is what dying is. Knowing everything is over. Overwhelming loneliness in that final moment.

He can’t control his breathing. He fumbles his phone, dialing for Lenalee. She doesn’t answer. He drops his mobile, briefly, into the water, and scrambles to get it back out. This is the only lifeline he has left. He can’t die. He can’t be alone. He can’t.

The screen is soaking wet, and he doesn’t think about the fact that he still only has four contacts in his phone. 

He calls Kanda. 

The phone rings, sounding like static, and Allen feels like he’s underwater. He feels the air leaving his lungs, hears the unbearable silence that presses in on his eardrums. 

He doesn’t realize he’s whispering until he hears, “Beansprout? Who’s Neah?”

Neah? Neah? Neah? Who’s Neah?

He sobs, he doesn’t know what else to do. “I don’t know.”

Kanda’s voice is calm, low, soothing, like slipping into a warm bath after a freezing day. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” Allen says again, around his tears.

“I need you to tell me, dumbass! Where are you?”

“I don’t know! Who’s Neah?!”

“You’d have to tell me that, Beansprout, I don’t fucking know. Look at your goddamn phone. Send me your location.”

“I dropped it,” Allen cries. “In the water.” The sound is shorting out. 

“You aren’t making sense. Your phone is waterproof. You’re talking to me on it! Just click away from the call and go to your map.”

“Please don’t go!” 

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m coming to get you, but I don’t know where the fuck you are. Get your head out of your ass.” The words themselves are harsh, but he doesn’t think he’s ever heard anything more comforting. 

“Please don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to die.”

“Die?! Allen, if you don’t tell me where the fuck you are right now-!” Kanda growls out a sound, voice rising above that low register for the first time. “Look around you, then. What do you see?”

He blinks through his tears. He feels confused, and scared, and he realizes with a start that this is how Mana acted when he was sick. He whimpers. 

“Allen, you have to breathe, okay? I cannot fucking help you if you can’t tell me where you are.”

He takes a deep, gulping breath. He isn’t alone. He isn’t alone. “I see the river…”

“Okay, I need more than that, Beansprout!”

He turns his head. Snow seems to blanket the ground in every direction. “There’s snow.”

“ Snow ?! There can’t be snow. What the hell is going on?”

“Snow. There’s snow. I see it right there.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kanda snarls. “Buildings! Look at the buildings!”

He looks around. “No buildings. Just a wall. It’s gray. I see train tracks.”

“What else?”

“Big ships. Lots of parking spaces.”

“Did you get there from school?”

“I don’t know. I woke up here,” Allen whispers, voice breaking. “I’m scared.”

“I know, I know. Do you see a dock?”

“Yes, over there.”

Kanda makes a noise in the back of his throat. “What happened to you, Beansprout?”

“I don’t know!”

“Okay, okay, I get it. You don’t know. I’m on my way, okay? Stay on the phone.”

Allen doesn’t feel like himself. He feels like someone else is taking up space in his head, an intruder. 

“Something wrong, Boy?” He hears from behind him.

He turns his head, eyes wide, and yelps. He drops his phone into the water again, amongst the mud and snow and reeds. “Tyki.” He knows that name. It’s buried deep, but it thrums through him now.

“Oh? You remember me?” Tyki points at himself, bending low. “Did you really break through?”

“Go away.”

“He said that, too. They always say that.”

“Go away!” He yells, holding his head in his hands. This is the man who killed him, he feels it deep in his bones. In his fear. He tries to move back, away, feeling the water as it rises all the way to his waist. 

“It’s a shame,” Tyki tells him, voice sad. “Rehabilitation really broke you, huh?”

He knows that word, but it has no meaning to him. It’s like he heard it somewhere, long ago. 

“Do you think you’re Neah? It does that, sometimes. That isn’t our fault, though. You can blame your guardian for that.”

Cross? 

Allen grits his teeth, backs up more.

“You’re just getting confused,” Tyki says softly, and he kneels in the water, in front of Allen (Neah). A cool hand cups his cheek, forcing Allen (Neah) to meet his golden-brown eyes. He tries to flinch away, but Tyki shifts to make a grip. It hurts. “But this is the first step. We know it’s bad. We’re trying to do this gently. Slow, ya know?” 

Allen (Neah) chokes out a sob, still trying to pull away. This is the man who killed him. He wants to kill him again. No matter what he says, how he sounds, this man killed him. 

“You think I killed you? I didn’t. How would you be here, otherwise? I might have had to do the fourteenth in, though. Sorry about that.” 

Allen (Neah) realizes he’s whispering all of this to himself, as if he’s talking to someone else. 

“This might happen again, fair warning.” Tyki’s grip loosens and he gently smooths down Allen’s (Neah’s) hair. “You can blame the Order for that. They took you away from us in the first place.”

Tyki stands just in time to get a fist in the face. Allen (Neah) trembles, watching Tyki stumble back, and he backs up further. The water is up to his shoulders now. “Now, that’s not very nice, Exorcist,” Tyki says to his assailant. 

“What the fuck are you on about? Who the fuck are you?” He can’t see around Tyki, but he recognizes the comfort that sweeps over him. There’s peace, like a fog is clearing. Allen. His name is Allen. Allen.

“So you don’t remember, either. They really are a fan of fucking people over.” Tyki massages his jaw, wincing. “Strong punch, though. They must have done something right.”

Kanda snarls, and Allen sees him circle around, watching Tyki like a predator going after prey. Kanda chances a look at Allen, just a quick one, and then goes back to giving Tyki his full attention. 

“I didn’t come here for a fight,” Tyki calmly retorts, standing to his full height. “If you’re here to help the boy, then I’m not your enemy. Not yet.”

Kanda makes a violent noise, jerking forward. “Who. Are. You.”

Leaning back, a smirk forms on his lips. “My name is Joyd, but you can call me Tyki Mikk.” A butterfly flutters across Allen’s field of vision then, and he startles back, sinking under the water. 

Kanda is there quick though, lifting Allen out of the water, gently looking over him for injuries or the like.

Allen feels the fog of fear lifting even more as he watches Kanda’s eyes track movement all over his body. He pulls Allen out of the water, to the shore, and then jerks his head around, but Tyki is already gone.

Kanda seems to take that as an opportunity to give Allen a more thorough look-over . Allen feels exhausted now, so tired, and he can’t hold himself up in Kanda’s grip, feeling himself slip further in his arms. Kanda runs a hand down Allen’s chest, his ribs, pushes up his sleeves to check for anything, not even pausing at Allen’s left, frostbitten arm, and then gently feels around Allen’s head. “Did he hurt you?”

No, no he didn’t. Allen shakes his head. That wasn’t him who died. He’s not the one Tyki hurt. Neah is. Was. Who was Neah?

Kanda doesn’t say anything else, he just lifts Allen in his arms and starts to carry him away from the water. “Wait,” Allen croaks, reaching back. “My mobile.”

“You can get a new one. You’re soaking wet in the middle of December. You need to warm up.” Allen sags, but Kanda doesn’t react whatsoever. His arms are strong and sure. He feels safe, so safe. “You had me really fucking worried.”

“Sorry,” Allen murmurs, resting his cheek against Kanda’s chest. 

“You’re going to have to give me a good fucking explanation once you’re cleaned up.”

Allen doesn’t even know what happened himself, but he nods anyway. 

He dozes off, slowly waking when he’s placed in Kanda’s car, then again when he’s taken out. He lifts his arms and wraps them around Kanda’s neck as he’s carried into a house. Is it his, or is it Kanda’s?

The next time he stirs, he’s being laid down on a couch. He hears Kanda’s soft, low voice speaking, but it isn’t to him, and Allen can’t quite make out the words. 

He feels the couch dip next to him, and then Kanda helps him sit up. “I know you’re tired, but you can’t lay on my couch in soaking wet clothes all day.”

This is Kanda’s house? He strips, woozy, pulling his shirt over his head, letting Kanda help him. He feels a warm, dry shirt replace it. “Sorry,” Allen murmurs. 

“It’s fine,” Kanda grumbles back. “Lenalee will be by tomorrow, and I called that crazy fucking godfather of yours. He specifically told me not to take you to a hospital for some goddamn reason, so you can stay here until you can at least walk on your own.”

“Thanks…”

Kanda sighs, helping Allen up. “Come on, I have sweatpants for you, too.”

“Kanda,” Allen starts, placing a hand on Kanda’s bicep. “You really are...kind.”

Kanda makes a noise of irritation. “You’re fucking crazy.”

Allen doesn’t have anything in him left to fight. He leans against Kanda, using him to steady himself as he slowly changes his bottoms. Firm hands help keep him still, and then Kanda starts to guide him towards stairs. “Can you make it up the stairs?”

Allen nods, holds on to the banister, and manages to take one step after another. Kanda sticks close behind him, a comfortable warmth, and Allen knows he’s been fighting a losing battle. He knew, and he knows, that his heart reaches out for Kanda like it needs him. He’s tired of fighting. 

He’s guided to a bedroom on the left, closest to the stairs, and then he crawls into the bed there. It’s the most comforting thing he’s ever felt. It smells like Kanda, it’s warm like him. Allen nuzzles into the pillow, sighing, exhausted. He could stay here forever. 

“You really are killing me, Beansprout,” he hears Kanda whisper. 

“‘M sorry…”

Fingers gently trail down his left arm, tentative, then move back up. “Go to sleep, Allen.” It’s like a caress, and Allen shivers. No one’s ever touched him like that, so reverent. The motion lulls him into a quick, easy sleep. 

There’s no fight left in him. None at all.

Chapter Text

When he wakes up, Kanda is kneeling by the side of the bed, head rested on his arms, sleeping. It must be the middle of the night, because the room is dark, illuminated only by a lamp in the corner. He feels drunk, lightheaded, but more alert. He thinks back on what happened, but doesn’t come up with very much. He knows he was confused, that he lost time, that Kanda saved him. He remembers warmth and safety in the end. 

Kanda’s hand is rested on Allen’s arm, as if he’d left it there when he fell asleep, and as Allen shifts the other man wakes up, blinking.

“Beansprout,” Kanda starts, voice rough. He clears his throat. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah,” Allen whispers, chest aching. He doesn’t remember exactly what happened, but his heart seems to. 

“What time is it?” Kanda groans, and he leans back on his knees as he grabs his phone, hand retreating from Allen’s arm. “Fuckin’ hell. Two AM.” He works out a crick in his neck, and Allen realizes that Kanda stayed by his bedside for lord knows how many hours. 

He exhales, swelling with enough emotion to choke him. “You stayed.”

“What? Of fucking course I did. What if you went mental again?” Allen flinches in response to Kanda’s harsh retort, making the other man’s dark eyes widen. “Ah, shit. Fuck. Don’t...don’t listen to me. Forget I said that.”

Allen isn’t angry. Mana was sick, too. Even if he wasn’t Allen’s biological father, maybe it makes sense that Allen inherited his madness. He notices how bare he feels, emotionally and physically. He’s in a tank top that’s running a little big on him.

He holds his left arm close to his body, shielding it from view subconsciously, but Kanda stops him with a gentle touch. “What happened?”

Allen swallows, letting go of his arm, holding it out for Kanda to look at. The only other people he’s done that for are Cross and doctors, but Kanda is starting to become synonymous with security in Allen’s mind. “Frostbite. They could have amputated it, but I still have feeling and movement in it. It just looks gross.”

Kanda, in a move so surprising Allen nearly passes out from lack of airflow to his brain, grabs the fingers of Allen’s left arm and brings them to his cheek. He’s gentle. So gentle. If Allen wasn’t watching, he couldn’t believe it. 

“Kanda…”

He doesn’t know how to describe what’s happening to him right now. He surges forward and wraps his arms around Kanda’s neck, holding him tight. 

“Thank you,” he says, in regards to many things. “Thank you.”

Kanda’s hand rests on the small of Allen’s back. They’ve known each other for nearly six months now, and it feels like everything’s led up to this cacophony of emotions. This aching longing. Still, they haven’t crossed the barrier yet. Allen is acutely aware of that. He knows if he kissed Kanda, asked to be with him, Kanda would grant him that, but the timing doesn’t feel right. As much as everything else feels right, that doesn’t right now. 

“Right now, I just want to be with you,” Allen whispers, and he’s close enough to hear Kanda’s breath hitch. 

“I’m here.”

Allen grips him tighter. “Don’t leave tonight.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You sure as hell did.”

“Silent, strong Kanda,” Allen whispers, burying his face in Kanda’s hair. “Scared for me of all people.”

“And Allen Walker, the idiot who’s scared of everyone else.”

Allen laughs. “You’ve got me.” He does. Allen disappears when he’s afraid, and he’s only ever afraid of losing people. Loneliness. He disappears so they can’t see his faults, so he doesn’t have to face the moment they leave. He’s seen people die in front of his eyes, and he always wishes he could have been anywhere else. 

He thinks his name sounds nice when Kanda says it. His voice is low, masculine. He wishes Kanda would say it more. Maybe he will, one day.

Allen scoots over in the bed, leaving the space where he was before. “Lay with me?”

Kanda’s eyes darken even further in the low light, and he climbs into the bed, shifting under the blankets. Allen closes his eyes and settles up to Kanda’s chest. “I’m not scared of you ,” he admits. “Not anymore.”

Kanda holds the back of Allen’s head, fingers threading through his hair, shivering as Allen’s breath hits his skin, the space where the collar of his shirt dips. They don’t say anything else, they just lay there, until Allen falls asleep again.

When he wakes up the next morning, Kanda is gone. Allen frowns, sitting up, scrubbing at his face, and climbs out of bed. His tank top is all screwed up from sleep, so he rights it before slowly creeping out of the room. 

He smells breakfast coming from the level below, so he carefully creeps down the stairs. He’s not very familiar with this house, but he follows the smell of bacon and eventually ends up in the kitchen. 

Lenalee is at the stove, creating that delicious smell. He pads forward, yawning, and Lenalee spins on her heel when she hears him. Quickly turning off the stove, she runs over to him and wraps him in an extremely tight hug. 

“I’m so sorry,” she explains, kissing the side of his face and hair over and over again. “I wasn’t by my phone when you called! I tried to call you back, but it just went straight to voicemail.” 

Allen clears his throat, hyper aware of the feeling of cotton in his mouth and that he probably has awful morning breath. Maybe Kanda has a toothbrush he can use. “It’s okay, I’m not mad at you.” 

“I’m mad at me!” She makes a noise as if she’s disgusted with herself and backs away, petting down his hair as if trying to tame it. Good luck, he thinks. It takes about ten minutes of brushing for Allen to work out knots from his bed head. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I think you scared Kanda to death.” 

Allen exhales and smiles softly at her, placing a hand on her arm and gently rubbing it in an attempt at comfort. “Your bacon is burning,” he tells her, laughing softly. 

She perks up, squeaking, and runs back to the stove. “I turned the heat off, but I didn’t take the bacon out! Ugh, I’m so stupid. You’re probably starving, Allen. I bet you haven't eaten since lunch yesterday.”

For the first time in his life, Allen is lacking an appetite. He feels a little nauseous, in fact, but that won’t stop him from eating breakfast anyway. “Where’s Kanda?” 

She cocks her head to the right as she pats the bacon with paper towels to soak up the grease. “He’s out back. We were right about him keeping up the garden after all.” 

“I’ll be back in a minute.” 

“Shoo, shoo,” she tuts, apparently satisfied since she’s seen Allen is alive and uninjured. “Bring him in to eat, too. I doubt he ate last night.” 

Allen feels a little guilty. A lot of yesterday is blurry in his memories. It’s probably for the best. The feelings he remembers are scary enough. 

He walks out of the kitchen, looking around as he ends up in what appears to be a laundry room. There’s a door on the far wall, so he tracks up to it and walks through. 

Right into the garden of Eden.

The first things he sees are tall, sprawling plants. Their green leaves are giant, wide, dripping with dew - they look like paper fans, somewhat. At their base is a bed of hydrangea, vibrant purple and blue a pretty contrast to the behemoth above it. 

On the opposite side of a brick path is another paper fan plant, littered with hydrangea at the bottom. 

Slowly he walks down the path, painfully aware going outside without shoes was a bad idea, but not turning around. Past the hydrangea are palms, their long stems intersecting with the path. Allen puts a hand on one and lifts it to walk underneath.

The brick path splits and he sees a greenhouse to the right, filled with tropical plants, but the left disappears into more plant life. There’s orchids, small white flowers he can’t identify, more greenery, very tall flowers that come in so many different shades of the rainbow it makes his head spin. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. It’s easy to forget he’s in Kanda’s back yard. 

At the end of the path is a patio set with a large umbrella, and Kanda is squatted down by a bushel of pretty pink flowers, watering them. 

He must hear Allen approach, because he stands and turns to him, flicking bangs out of his eyes before setting the watering can down on the patio table. 

“Finally awake, huh?” 

Allen feels his face heat a little, pointedly looking at the myriad of flowers surrounding them. “Sorry I took up your bed.” 

Kanda shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “Whatever. I don’t care.” Allen peeks over from under his bangs and sees Kanda staring very hard at the bricks by his feet. His face is a little pink, too, and Allen laughs a little. 

“Look at us,” he grins. 

Kanda looks back up at him and matches his grin. 

“Lenalee said breakfast is ready, Pretty Boy.”

Kanda shakes his head, still grinning, and walks past Allen, ruffling his head as he does. Allen laughs, ducking his head away and follows him back into the house. This time, he watches Kanda’s back, his shoulders, the nape of his neck, rather than the plants. 

Lenalee already has the table set when they get back in. She’s putting the last plate of bacon and eggs down when Allen rounds the corner, and she motions them over. “Come on!” 

His stomach does growl a little now, when actually presented with food, and he and Kanda sit down as Lenalee goes into the fridge and pulls out a carton of orange juice. “Just make yourself at home,” Kanda says, rolling his eyes. 

“This is to your benefit!” She exclaims, pouring the juice in the glasses she’s set out for them. Once she’s put the juice back in the fridge she sits down and rubs her hands together. By the time she says, “Dig in!” Allen has found his appetite and shoveled half the food on the plate into his mouth. 

Kanda is raising an eyebrow at him, slowly picking at his eggs, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Ya know, you hadn’t allowed anyone in here in so long that Lavi and I were placing bets on how it looked inside,” Lenalee starts conversationally. “But you’ve really kept everything up.” 

Kanda doesn’t seem to appreciate some or all of her statement. “The fuck you take me for?” 

“I know,” she laughs, biting at a piece of slightly over cooked bacon. “You’ve never been a slob. But even the garden! It looks beautiful out there!” 

Kanda looks through the window to his right, but there isn’t much to see. Some giant plant is blocking much of the view. “Thought the old man wouldn’t wanna see it go.” 

“That’s sweet,” Lenalee coos, and Kanda flings a piece of egg at her face. 

By now Allen has finished his plate, so he can’t really join in the subsequent food fight. Lenalee chucks the other half of her bacon right back at Kanda, hitting him between the eyes. She laughs so hard she starts to cry, until Kanda does his serial killer smile, complete with eye twitch, and slowly stands, walking around the table. Still laughing, she wipes at her eyes and watches him, “What - what are you doing?” She manages between loud, barking laughs. 

He doesn’t respond, but his grin widens. Allen can’t help but laugh either - Kanda looks like he’s going to enjoy whatever punishment he intends to inflict on Lenalee next. Slowly, keeping his eyes locked on hers, he sticks his hand right in her scrambled eggs and shoves it down the front of her shirt.

She shrieks, standing, reaching into her shirt to try to get the food out, and puffs out her cheeks before yanking on a loose strand of his bangs. 

He grunts, ready to retaliate in some way when she just takes her entire glass of orange juice and pours it down the front of his shirt. “Motherfucker!” He snarls, grappling with her, and they are an absolute mess. 

Allen is laughing so hard he’s wheezing, holding onto his chest, bent over. He’s never seen anything like the two of them. “Y-you guys,” Allen stutters out, cackling. “Are ridiculous.” 

Both Kanda and Lenalee stop and look at him. Lenalee has gotten a good hold on Kanda’s hair, fingers tangled in the strands as she attempts to mold it into a bird’s nest while Kanda’s hand is pushed in between her breasts, clearly intending to smear the eggs on her further. 

Shyly, they split apart, but Allen can’t stop laughing. It’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen. 

Lenalee’s got a smear of egg on her cheek, and some of the orange juice she poured on Kanda has transferred to her shirt. He manages to stop laughing, finally, but giggles keep slipping between his lips. Kanda’s hair looks like it suffered through a tornado, his t-shirt soaked and sticking to the front of him. The two most beautiful people he’s ever met look like they just crawled out of a dumpster. 

“Maybe the two of you should change,” Allen offers, hiding his smile behind his hand. He realizes, suddenly. His arm has been on display for Lenalee this entire time, but it was like she never even noticed. 

“I don’t have a change of clothes!” Lenalee exclaims. “Stupid Kanda!” 

Kanda crosses his arms and rolls his eyes. “Then suffer, woman.” 

“You can’t be mean to me! You started it! Let me borrow some clothes!” 

“I’m like a foot taller than you.” 

“Then I’ll just walk around naked!” 

That does not seem to appeal to Kanda, who grimaces. “Fine. Between you and Allen, you’re going to take my entire wardrobe home.” 

Lenalee gasps, covering her mouth with her hands. “You called him Allen. Kanda. You said his name.”

He seems to realize he made some sort of mistake, “Shut up!” He snarls, brushing past her. Lenalee winks at Allen before following after him. 

“Wait,” Allen hears her yell after Kanda. “You haven’t told me when the wedding is yet!” 

Kanda makes a loud, strangled noise from the other side of the house. 

Allen shakes his head, smiling, and makes an attempt to start cleaning up the mess they left behind. When he bends down to wipe up juice he feels lightheaded and sways a bit, but he stays on his feet. Whatever happened yesterday took a lot out of him. 

He deposits the plates and glasses in the sink and is wiping bits of food from the table when Kanda and Lenalee return, with Lenalee prattling his ear off and Kanda dutifully ignoring her with furrowed eyebrows. She’s dressed in what appears to be sweatpants with the drawstring pulled tight and an oversized sweatshirt. She appears to be using a hair tie to bunch it at her hips and keep it from hanging off of her too much. The clothes are clearly far too big for her, and she looks adorable. 

Kanda is wearing a tight tank top that looks more suited to working out than lounging. Allen is not complaining, though. 

“Oh!” Lenalee exclaims, rushing forward. “I was gonna make Kanda do that! You sit down and rest, Allen!” 

Kanda sneers at her, but snatches the towel from Allen’s hand anyway and angrily starts to wipe at the table in his stead.

“I’m okay,” Allen promises her. “Really. You cooked breakfast. I wanted to be helpful, too.” 

She shakes her head and tuts at him, placing hands on his shoulders and guiding him back to the living room. She drags him down to the couch with her and he lets out a breath from the motion. “Jeez, Allen,” she says as if she didn’t just knock the wind out of him. “You gotta take care of yourself better.” 

He coughs a bit. “Sure, Lenalee.” 

She latches on to his arm, going quiet for a bit. “So…can I ask what happened yesterday? Kanda didn’t explain too much.” 

He swallows. “You can ask,” he tells her. “But I can’t tell you much more than he can. I…it’s very foggy.” 

She frowns, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “Are you going to go to the doctor? That sounds serious.”

“I feel okay now, though. I don’t think a doctor is necessary.” He’s pretty sure he doesn’t even have medical insurance. He needs that here, but never had a reason to get it, and Cross certainly wasn’t going to get it for him.

“I think you should see someone,” Lenalee says softly. “Kanda told me you appeared at the docks with no idea how you got there. It sounds like a fugue state.” 

“Fugue state?” 

“Yeah…it’s a specific kind of dissociation, which is…like, feeling disconnected from reality, or losing your sense of self. Like seeing yourself from the outside. A fugue state is specifically when someone suddenly travels some distance and then has no memories of the experience.” 

Losing his sense of self? 

The name Neah digs into his memory like a knife, and he recoils, harshly. Lenalee backs off of him quickly. “Allen?” She yelps. “Hey, are you okay?” 

He closes his eyes and steadies his breath. When he opens his eyes again Kanda has rushed into the room and is watching him with a careful eye. 

“I’m…I’m okay. I just…” 

“Does something hurt?” She reaches towards him, but then seems to think better of it. She pulls her hand back. 

“I just…I remembered something. Just…a name.”

Kanda speaks for him. “Neah.” 

Lenalee is rightfully confused, but so is Allen. How did Kanda know that? “Neah?” She asks, looking between them. “Who’s that?” 

Kanda shrugs noncommittally while Allen just shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just…saw it. How did you know, Kanda?” 

“You kept…whispering about it yesterday.” 

Allen grimaces, shame coursing through him. What happened?

Lenalee settles into the couch as Kanda stalks over and sits on the other side of Allen. “I really think you need to see someone,” Lenalee insists. 

Kanda leans just enough that Allen can feel their arms pressing together. “Nothing like that has ever happened before,” he murmurs, but that isn’t completely true. That hole in his memory. The black figure that likes to sit next to him when he plays the piano.

This is starting to remind him too much of Mana for his liking. 

“Well, I can’t force you, but if it happens again please get help.” 

“I will,” he tells her, but it feels like a lie. 

She sighs, like she knows that. “Let’s try to focus on something else. Do you have any plans for Christmas?” 

Oh right. That’s next week. “It’s my birthday,” he says casually, leaning back on the cushions, enjoying Kanda’s warmth. 

“I-I… what ?” Lenalee yells, standing suddenly. “Your birthday is…it’s next week and you didn’t tell me!? Kanda, did you know?” 

“Fuck no.” 

“I don’t really celebrate my birthday,” Allen smiles weakly. 

“You don’t celebrate Halloween, Thanksgiving, your birthday…! Ugh! Allen!” She clenched her hands into fists and then plops back down on the couch. “This is awful. I’m adopting you. I’m your mom now.” 

He huffs out a laugh. “It’s okay, Lenalee!” 

“Nope. No, it isn’t. You agree with me, right Kanda?” 

“Whatever.” 

“Kanda!” 

“ Whatever .” 

“Kanda!” She reaches across Allen to slap Kanda’s arm. “You are a terrible boyfriend!”

Allen shoots up so fast he knocks into Lenalee. Kanda has completely retreated into the couch. “I…I have to go to the bathroom.” Allen says lamely, hands trembling. Everything is too fresh right now. He quickly bolts around the corner, realizing he has no idea where the bathroom is, and then that he really does have to pee. 

He just starts opening doors, hoping one of them is a bathroom. 

“Wait, you’re not dating!?” He hears Lenalee shriek from the living room.

He finally finds the bathroom and decides it would be nice to just lock himself in here for the rest of the day. 

He glances at himself in the mirror, seeing himself for the first time in quite some time. He looks a mess, almost as bad as Kanda and Lenalee after their food fight. He has dark bags under his eyes and his hair is sticking out in every direction. 

He decides to hide away a little longer after he uses the bathroom, running the sink and splashing water on his cheeks, attempting to make his hair look at least somewhat normal.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend? 

Allen has never dated anyone . Just because maybe he’s giving into his heart a little, boyfriend is a strong word. They haven’t even spoken about any of it yet. 

When he looks at himself in the mirror again after another round of water on his cheeks, he sees he’s smiling. 

He hates himself a little, but leaves the bathroom. He doesn’t really want to go back to the living room, but he does. Kanda is so far against the edge of the couch it looks like he’s trying to sit on the arm of it. 

Lenalee looks sheepish. “Sorry,” she offers, scratching her cheek.

“It-It’s okay.” 

“I just assumed! You slept in his bed! He called you by your name ! He-” 

“Okay, okay,” Allen yelps, closing his eyes and waving his hands out in front of him. “I understand. Please stop.” His face feels hot. “I just. That’s not a conversation we’ve had yet.” 

“Yet?” She squeals, looking excited. 

“Beansprout!” Kanda barks, wide-eyed and clearly embarrassed. 

“A-am I wrong?” He challenges. 

Kanda turns his head away. He must agree, then. Allen feels relieved. 

“Okay, I understand,” Lenalee nods. “Right time, right place. Yeah. Gotta be special.” She looks like she’s attempting to be sagely. “Absolutely crucial. Kanda’s a romantic after all.” 

“If you weren’t a woman, I’d strangle you,” Kanda tells Lenalee, glaring daggers at her. 

“That’s sexist,” she sniffs.

“Oh?” Kanda retorts, reaching across the couch. “Let me be inclusive, then.” 

She starts giggling, scrambling away from him. “Ah, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m very lucky to be so adored, I get it!” 

At this very second, there’s a loud knock on the door. It sounds rushed, scared, and the three of them look at it in shock. “Hey! Open up, Yu! My poor little Al-pal needs me!” 

“Oh, Lavi’s here,” Lenalee smiles sheepishly. 

“You invited him here ? To my house?” 

“Yeah! Of course!” She jumps off the couch and runs to the door. 

“Don’t open that door, Lenalee!” Kanda snarls, but it has zero effect on her. She unlocks the front door, allowing Lavi to rush in.

“I’m here, Al, your knight in shining - oh, hi Lenalee! - your knight in shining armor!” 

Allen laughs, opening his arms to Lavi as the redhead throws himself at him. Allen is almost knocked to the ground with the force of his hug, but manages to stay upright. He pats Lavi’s back as his friend rubs their cheeks together. 

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here sooner! You must have been so frightened without me!” 

“Yes, Lavi,” Allen chuckles, appeasing the redhead. “I didn’t know what to do with myself.” 

After another few seconds of Lavi’s blubbering, he finally pulls away and starts to look around the room, sniffing. “Oh, looks like you win the bet, Lena, Kanda didn’t become a hoarder.” 

“Oh, he kept up Eden, too!” She says helpfully. 

Kanda looks like he’s trying to think of a way to kill them both at once. 

“Also, Lavi, I have troubling news,” Lenalee starts, shaking her head and walking towards them. “Allen’s birthday is on Christmas and he didn’t tell any of us!” 

“Oh man!” Lavi exclaims. “There goes my idea! I needed like a month to prepare the zoo animals!”

Allen truly does not want to know if Lavi is joking or not. 

“So, like, what are we doing?” Lavi vaults over the back of the couch and falls on the cushion. Kanda looks like he’s about to snap. Allen swears his face is starting to get red from anger alone. “Any plans, Yu?”

“Leave my house.” 

“Uh, I don’t see your name on it.” 

Kanda throws his hands up in exasperation and stomps towards the stairs. 

“Follow him,” Lenalee smiles, motioning after Kanda. “Have your talk.”

“Talk?” Lavi asks, peering over the back of the couch. “What talk?” 

Allen gives Lenalee a look and she laughs. “Don’t worry about it.”

He follows up the steps, feeling his exhaustion hit him again, and then peers inside Kanda’s room once he gets to the second floor. Sure enough, Kanda is kneeling on the ground, eyes closed. He looks like he’s meditating, and Allen feels he shouldn’t interrupt.

Still, he watches as Kanda evens out his breathing, keeping his eyes closed, and his expression relaxes. For a while, Kanda just inhales and exhales, and Allen is going to go back downstairs to leave him to it when one dark eye opens up at him. “Are you coming in or what, Beansprout?” 

Allen blinks stupidly before collecting himself and walking inside his room, shutting the door behind him. Kanda closes his eyes and goes back to his breathing exercises as Allen sits on the edge of the bed and bites his lip.

He doesn’t know where to start. He wonders if maybe he shouldn’t. He likes to think he was pretty clear earlier, Kanda can take the next step, but he doubts Kanda is the type to make a move like that. 

Allen settles on the ground opposite Kanda, taking an identical position. “Teach me,” he says simply. 

“Close your eyes,” Kanda returns, voice low, already knowing what Allen is asking. He listens and closes his eyes. “Inhale and exhale slowly. Three seconds in through your nose and three seconds out through your mouth.” Allen’s lips gently open as he follows the instruction. “Focus on that. Don’t think about anything else.” 

“You always meditate when you get that angry?”

“That counts as thinking about something else, dumbass.”

“Ah, sweet nothings,” Allen sighs happily, and Kanda huffs. 

“Are you going to meditate, or bother me?”

“What do you think?” 

The other man makes a noise that sounds a bit like a growl and Allen opens his eyes. “It doesn’t work if you just keep trying to make me angry.” Kanda doesn’t look angry, though. Maybe a little irritated, but that’s as close to a neutral expression as Kanda gets. 

Allen scoots closer, until their knees touch. Kanda looks down at the point of contact. “Hey, will you do me a favor?” 

Kanda’s eyebrow ticks, and Allen watches as Kanda looks at his lips. “What?” 

Allen leans closer, looking up at Kanda. He really is gorgeous. His dark eyes are lidded, calm, and his hair frames his face. Allen doesn’t want to forget how he looks now, especially when his lips part a little in surprise. 

“On the twenty-fifth, I want you to meet me at the NOCCA campus.” 

Kanda blinks at him. “What?” 

“In front of the auditorium. The big one.”

“Isn’t it going to be closed?” 

“What sort of degenerate would I be if I couldn’t pick a lock?” Allen smiles sweetly. He can read Kanda’s next thoughts through his eyes, and Allen holds a finger to his lips. “Promise me.” 

“Fine. I’ll be there.” 

He lets his finger drag down Kanda’s lips, feeling them drag against his skin, and a chill runs down his spine. Kanda’s eyes are alight, burning, and he leans forward in a rush, but Allen stops him with a grip on his hair behind his head. The action bares Kanda’s neck to him, and the resulting noise Kanda makes is sinful. His eyes gently shut with the vulnerable position he’s left in. Allen feels himself react, but pushes it away. 

“The twenty-fifth,” Allen repeats, softly pressing his lips to Kanda’s jaw. “At midnight.”

Kanda’s eyes slip open and he pants softly. “Midnight. I got it.” 

Allen leans away, but it feels like it takes all of his effort to do so. He wants nothing more than to kiss Kanda until they’re both stupid and gasping. “Ravishing,” he whispers once he feels far enough away that there isn’t an immediate danger of ripping each other's clothing off. “I probably shouldn’t say anything more,” he winks.

Kanda turns his head to the side, shifting. “Tease.” Allen can hazard a guess as to his issue, and it makes something predatory light up in him. He wants to hold Kanda down, bite the column of his neck, feel Kanda’s body arch against his. Ugh, he’s being cruel to himself, too. 

“You like it,” Allen bites back with a smirk. He wants to get up, his legs are cramping, but he is very aware that he cannot. His own issue will be evident if he does. 

They just stay kneeling, obvious in what they’re doing, and as Allen starts to laugh, Kanda follows suit. He’s got a beautiful laugh, low, breathy, a secret for the both of them. “God, what’s the date?” Allen asks.

Kanda is still laughing softly. “The nineteenth.” 

“Okay, six more days. Not bad. I think I can do that.” 

“Can you?” Kanda asks, snarky.

“I’m gonna do my best,” Allen returns, shifting. “I’m going to stand now.”

Kanda’s eyes rake down his body. “Go ahead then, Beansprout.” 

“Only if you do, too.”

“I can sit like this all day.” 

“Goddamnit.”

Allen takes a breath, puts his hands on his thighs for leverage, and stands. He is facing Kanda exactly long enough to notice that he is exactly eye level with Allen’s hips, and then he spins around. “Evil,” he hisses.

“Twenty-fifth,” Kanda returns mockingly. 

Yeah, he did that to himself, but he thinks he has a good idea. 

Sometimes words are hard to speak, but easy to sing. As he walks out of the room with a slight wobble and starts opening every door on the second floor until he finds another bathroom, he finds his previous fear is far away. 

He looks at himself in the mirror. Kanda is like a drug and an antidote all at once. Allen doesn’t think there’s a thing in this world that could keep him from him now. Not when he’s the man who held Allen tight and saved him in every way a person can be saved. 

Chapter Text

The most torturous thing about waiting six whole days until his master plan is that he still sees Kanda in the meantime. He doesn’t have to, but he wants to, and as much as feels desperate to reach out and touch him, they both stay on their best behavior. Kanda because he was told to and apparently he listens very well when motivated, and Allen because he knows the payoff will be worth it. He even broke into the auditorium twice in the middle of the night to make sure they’re wouldn’t be issues, and he was satisfied to see there were no security cameras except backstage and by the front door. The cameras might catch them on the way in, but unless something goes wrong and someone has to review the footage it should be fine.

Cross had come to get him later, that day Lenalee and Lavi had come over to check on him. It was weird, he was weird, ushering Allen into his car, not even making any rude comments about him having stayed at Kanda’s house. 

No, he seemed…concerned. Allen wasn’t sure how much Kanda had said, probably more than what he’d told Lenalee, but it was still weird. Cross had never been concerned for him before. 

When they got home, Cross asked him a million questions that mostly all came to the same answer: “I don’t know.” From the phrasing of many questions, Allen could guess that he knew something, but as usual if Cross didn’t want Allen to know something it was going to stay that way. 

Kanda had checked in on him the day after, another thing he wasn’t used to. Kanda was not much of a texter - at least, he was very nearly never the one to message first. But he had, asking clipped questions about how Allen felt, and once he had deemed Allen wasn’t going postal again it had turned to teasing. 

That’s another tortuous thing - Kanda was very good at not antagonizing them or their lust when they were together, but when it came to texting it was a different deal. Maybe he felt safer with this method of communication, or maybe he assumed Allen’s command didn’t apply to texting, but whatever the reason, it was one of the most monstrous and cruel things about the man. Something in his messages and comments told Allen that he was experienced, knew what many things felt like or would feel like. Allen knew in theory, of course, but had never personally experienced it. Kanda was going to be the first person he even kissed properly. He had succeeded in not letting himself feel too bad about that. When it came to looks, Kanda was far superior to him. Of course he would have more opportunities with people. 

It never got too explicit, though. He was saved from that. 

Lenalee and Lavi also checked in on him regularly, even stopping by with food for Allen on multiple days, the two of them hanging out in Allen’s room watching old 80’s movies. Lavi would lay on one side, Lenalee on the other, and the three of them would bundle up as Tim flew around and sang to them. They incessantly teased him about Kanda, as well as to the fact that they had a surprise planned for him on Christmas. Allen was not used to being willingly surprised, but that part was nice. The other part not so much. 

On those days, he also taught them some piano - Lenalee knew a little bit, children’s songs that were at the very least more than Lavi could do; he had trouble even playing the scales. This outraged Lenalee, who hollered as she grabbed Lavi’s hand and placed it against hers. “But your hand is so much bigger than mine!” She had yelled. “That’s not fair!”

While he had to agree that it was unfair that many people with large hands and long fingers didn’t appreciate people like Allen, who had tiny hands and still managed to reach across an entire octave, it was much more satisfying to see them both blush and violently pull away from each other after she said that. 

He showed off a bit, too, pulling out some songs he knew and singing them along with Lenalee. Lavi was tone deaf in addition to his inability to move two hands in the same motion at the same time, and while he tried to sing, his voice was grating - to the point where it was obviously played up on purpose.

As it got closer to the twenty-fifth Allen got more and more excited, a feeling he wasn’t used to associating with that date. Lenalee and Lavi had the entire day planned, it seemed, ending with Christmas dinner, which was maybe the most exciting part. He wasn’t given any details beyond that, though. 

And then the day arrived. Allen woke up earlier than he usually did, changed out Tim’s food and water, and dressed in a big, comfortable sweater with jeans that were maybe a little too tight. Not on purpose, though. Definitely not because Kanda was going to be with them today.

Lenalee, Lavi, and Kanda all showed up just before noon, and his birthday celebration started.

“So you see,” Lavi concludes. “That is how your stomach is constantly digesting itself!”

“Ew,” Lenalee frowns. 

“Seconded,” Allen agrees.

“Fuck you,” Kanda inputs.

“Here I am, doling out The Facts of Life, and no one even thanks me. Next you’re all gonna crucify me for telling you about how condoms used to be made from fish intestines!”

“Hell yeah we are!” Lenalee exclaims, merging onto Canal. “Lavi, don’t do the weird facts thing today. Please. It’s Allen’s birthday. Spare him, and us by association.”

“Just trying to gift him with some dope knowledge,” Lavi mutters, looking out the window sadly.

Allen leans forward, awkwardly patting the redhead on the shoulder. “Good attempt.”

“Don’t humor him!” Kanda barks, grabbing Allen’s arm. He looks desperate enough that Allen concedes and leans back. 

“Fine,” Lavi pouts. “But y’all are the ones missing out on female kangaroo anatomy. Don’t come crying to me later when you wanna know how many vaginas they have.”

“See!?” Kanda gestures harshly at Lavi. “Do you fucking see??”

Allen covers his ears. “Okay, okay, I definitely see.”

“It’s three,” Lavi stage whispers to Lenalee, and Kanda smacks him on the side of the head.

Their first destination is lunch. The restaurant looks much, much fancier than Allen’s usual haunts; he has a voracious appetite and small pocketbook which doesn’t mix well with them. He allows himself to be led inside anyway, looking around, feeling horribly underdressed, and that’s when he sees it is not a normal fancy restaurant. It's a fancy restaurant with a buffet.

Allen has never seen anything like it. It’s beautiful.

They’re seated by a large window that overlooks a pretty courtyard, but Allen doesn’t let himself stay seated for long. As soon as it’s socially acceptable to go to the buffet, he does, piling food he’s never even heard of high on two plates. When he gets back to the table, Lavi and Lenalee are gone, but Kanda is still sitting there, resting his cheek on his palm. Allen cocks his head to the side, “Are you going to get something to eat?”

“Yeah,” Kanda nods gruffly, but he motions at Lenalee’s chair. “That woman decided I would be the one to watch her purse.”

“Aw, she’s got you all domestic,” Allen coos, taking a huge bite of whatever chateaubriand is, and Kanda’s response is to lean over with his fork and spear a piece of prime rib. Keeping his eyes locked on Allen’s offended, horrified expression, Kanda slowly eats the piece of meat, aware he has just ruined any positive reputation he had with Allen. “That is low, even for you,” Allen gasps, scooting his plates further away. 

Kanda just shrugs and gets up from his seat. “You can be on purse duty now, if you can manage to stop inhaling food for two seconds to stop any prospective purse snatcher.”

Allen doesn’t even acknowledge him, just moodily shoves more food in his mouth. 

Because it’s a buffet, he goes back a second time, then a third, but the third is just for dessert. After lunch, they climb back in Lenalee’s car before they start to drive further into the city. The agenda for the day is still unknown to him, so he just settles back and exhales, patting his belly. Kanda snorts and rolls his eyes, but Allen knows that he’s secretly incredibly endeared. Who wouldn’t be?

They end up at what looks like a theater. Not a huge, commercial one, but a small yet ornamental one on a regular residential street. It even has a marquee. It’s Christmas, so he can’t imagine it’s open, but then Lavi pulls on the door handle and it opens. 

The inside is all plush red carpets and gold accents, looking like old Hollywood. He looks around, running his fingers along a velvet couch, and he notices they’re alone. There are no employees. 

“What’s going on?”

“You’ll see!” Lavi says, excited, going around the concession counter. “What’ll ya have? Popcorn? Soda? Candy?”

“We just had lunch,” Lenalee complains, draping herself over a chaise lounge dramatically. “How can you do this to me when you know I love snow caps?”

Allen is very confused. He looks at the three of them, and even Kanda looks nonplussed, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. 

“Uh, popcorn sounds good?” He finally settles on, feeling very lost. “Where are all the employees?”

“Oh, it’s Christmas, we let them stay home today.”

“ We? ”

“Yeah,” Lavi nods, scooping popcorn from an old fashioned, bright red popcorn cart. “What kind of animal would we be if we made them work on Christmas, Al?” He says this as if it is a completely normal statement to be making. 

“Huh?” He asks thinly.

“Lavi’s grandfather owns the theater,” Lenalee explains to him, catching a box of snow caps as Lavi tosses it to her. Allen spins around, sees the giant bucket of popcorn Lavi has made for him, and he slowly takes it. Lenalee was not kidding when she said Lavi’s family had money.

“I was going to take you on our airplane, but the old man said no. I guess we need professional pilots or whatever and he wasn’t arranging that three days before Christmas.”

Allen feels dizzy, swaying on the spot, reeling from the new information. “Airplane?” his voice cracks. He stumbles over to a couch and plops down, absentmindedly eating popcorn from his oversized bucket. Lavi’s family doesn’t ‘have money’ they are filthy fucking rich. That’s what he’s gathering right now.

“You guess we need professional pilots?” Lenalee asks, tipping the box of candy into her mouth.

“I have my pilot’s license! You know that!”

“Lavi, I would not trust your piloting skills with any one of our lives.”

That’s probably smart. 

“What else don’t I know?” Allen asks, groaning. “Lavi flies planes. He owns a theater. What’s next?”

“His main house has over five thousand square feet of living space,” Lenalee offers nonchalantly. Main?

“This idiot once bought a live tiger and brought it in the vehicle with us,” Kanda grunts, eyebrow twitching. Tiger???

“I own an island!” Lavi says cheerily. Island??????

“What? That’s news to me,” Lenalee laughs. “Why didn’t we go this summer?”

“Oh, I got it for my birthday. There’s like permits or whatever we gotta get before we can build on it.”

Allen is not typically a violent person, but he feels murderous. How in the world is this a normal conversation to have? Why are they speaking about this like they’d speak about the weather? 

“Oh, it’s okay, he just got it for his birthday,” Allen grinds out, slapping a hand to his face. “An island. An island!”

“Yeah, this is how most people react,” Lenalee says. “But you get used to it.”

He does not think he will ever get used to it. “Tiger?” He asks, hoping he misheard Kanda.

“Yeah, I named him Stripey,” Lavi answers simply. “We gave him to the Tiger King though. Bad move in retrospect. Should have given it to Carol, I guess.”

Allen puts a handful of popcorn in his mouth to drown the confusion and pain he feels at this situation. He had thought Lavi had, like, a trust fund, or went on expensive vacations. This is not what he thought Lenalee meant.

Good for her, though. Whenever they get together she’s really got it made.

Lavi calls for them to follow him so Allen gets up, but he still feels weird. It doesn’t matter , not really, but there’s no easy way to take ‘one of your best friends literally owns an island’ easily. Especially when Allen spent the last six years playing cards to pay off Cross’s debts. 

They follow Lavi into one of the theaters, and Allen comes out of his stupor enough to recognize what’s happening. Somewhat. 

“Are we going to watch a movie?”

“No, Beansprout, we’re here to sit in the back and smoke reefer.”

“Really?”

“Unfortunately, we’re just here to watch a movie,” Lavi confirms. 

“Oh. Bummer.” Allen kicks at the floor, faking a dramatic pout. 

“Allen!” Lenalee does not like his joke.

“I’m kidding! Kanda started it!”

“Kanda’s an adult! He can make whatever bad life choices he wants.”

“I’m an adult!” Allen screams, but he’s laughing. “I’m eight- I’m nineteen!”

“Happy eighth birthday, Al. Now, pick a seat. You like the middle or back? You can say front but you will be wrong and I will veto it.”

“Back, I guess.”

“Got it, you like it from behind,” Lavi nods. Allen squeaks all too loudly and almost drops his popcorn; he wants to pass out. 

Kanda and Lenalee seem to think this is funny, instead of mortifying. Even Kanda. He’s snickering, lowly and to himself, but he’s snickering. “Don’t laugh at me,” Allen whines.

“You walked into that one, Idiot,” Kanda smirks.

Allen throws his arms up. “Well, fine! Middle then,” he tells Lavi.

“It’s very nice of you to ask for a threesome, Allen. Yes, I will be you and Yu’s third, and yes, you can be between us. It’s the better spot, but it is your birthday.”

Kanda does not look pleased anymore. “You did this,” Allen hisses, pointing at the dark haired man. 

“Me?” He snaps, indignant.

“Pick a seat, everyone!” Lavi says cheerily, as if he is not the worst human on the planet in every possible way. “I’m gonna go start up the projector.”

“What are we watching?” Allen sighs, deflating. There is never going to be any winning when Lavi is around.

“That’s a surprise, duh!” Lavi ushers him towards a seat in the back row. “Now go on and git. I have to set this up.”

Allen has been so distracted by the day, by all of the many exciting and terrible things that have happened, that as he gets settled in a seat and the lights lower, he becomes acutely aware of Kanda’s presence next to him for the first time. Instinctively, they’ve leaned towards each other, and it makes Allen smile. 

He’s weighing the merits of sliding their hands together when Lavi returns. “Pardon me. Oh, oops. My bad,” he tells them, purposefully scooting by as close as he possibly can without being in their laps. “Oh, I am just so clumsy, don’t mind me.”

Kanda makes a sharp, irritated inhale of breath. “I fucking hate him.”

“Me too,” he agrees, nodding and tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

Kanda looks at Allen like he’s in love. 

Lavi gets to the other side of Lenalee and sits, then. “Okay, so, Al, I hope you are excited, because you’re gonna like this one!”

Is it porn? He hopes it isn’t porn.

Lavi points a small remote towards the projector room above them and the screen flickers to life. 

It takes all of three seconds for Allen to recognize what it is. “Oh, Kanda! It’s your favorite. Come on, you know the words! Sing it with me.”

He jostles the man next to him, who just grimaces and lets himself be shaken. 

“ What a feeling! Beings believing! ” Lavi sings instead, making Allen’s ears bleed.

Flashdance is an iconic movie, but more than anything he realizes that it wasn’t Lavi that picked the movie. It wasn’t Lenalee, either.

Allen chuckles. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“Of course I did, Beansprout,” Kanda returns, voice low. 

Allen smiles to himself and folds their hands together. Kanda grimaces a bit, looking down at their hands, but he doesn’t seem unhappy or uncomfortable. Shocked, maybe, in his weird Kanda way. Allen’s heart beats quickly, flutters against his ribcage, and he squeezes Kanda’s hand. 

Kanda returns the gesture and looks back up at the movie.

“Lenalee was right,” Allen whispers, leaning in close. “You are a romantic.”

Kanda sneers, but doesn’t pull his hand away. “You’re pushing your luck.”

He probably is, but he’s okay with that. He leans back in his seat, shoves another handful of popcorn in his mouth, and watches the movie.

They’re ready to drop him back off at his house, telling him he needs to change into something nicer for the dinner, when he tells them he doesn’t really have anything nicer than the clothes he usually wears. 

Lavi and Lenalee both look at him with something that looks like offense mixed with shock. 

“That’s changing,” Lavi says, determined. “That is so changing. Right now.”

“What? It’s Christmas!”

“So?” Lenalee exclaims, pulling into a parking lot to turn around. “Everyone deserves to feel bougie! We’ll find something!”

“I am so far from bougie it is not funny, Lenalee.” Allen deadpans. “Literally last year I traded a bottle of cheap whiskey for a deck of cards just so I could cheat men out of cigarettes for my godfather because he has a love of all things nicotine related. Then I had to go win the bottle of whiskey back because he’s also a shithead lush.”

“Wow,” Lenalee breathes. “That’s kind of attractive, actually.”

“That is not what I was going for when I told you that.”

“No, no, you’re right, Lena,” Lavi agrees. “I just see Allen down by the docks, in a loose lace up shirt that’s falling off one shoulder, and he’s got a bandana tied around his hips with a flintlock gun and these black leather boots that go all the way up to his knees. Oh, and his hair is all sexy and tousled from the salty sea air and he’s got a pure gold hoop earring in one ear, and -”

Allen has absolutely no clue what is wrong with Lenalee and Lavi. They’re perfect for each other.

“That’s a pirate. You’re thinking of a pirate, Lavi.”

“Dammit, stop ruining my fantasy, Al!”

“How good are you at cheating?” Lenalee asks, disregarding who Allen is sure is her future husband. 

“Good enough to never lose unless it’s on purpose.”

“Whoa, we need to take you to Harrah’s. Win me some money.”

“Is that a casino? I don’t play house.”

“Wow, I don’t even know what that means,” she returns. 

Next to him, Kanda is just silently watching him, listening, and Allen feels a little self conscious all of a sudden. “House always wins,” he explains, needing to pull his eyes away from Kanda to reply. “It means, the, ah, casino. They’re set up to make money.”

“So are you, apparently,” Lavi laughs.

Now that is just plain offensive. “No,” Allen stresses. “I use sleight of hand, which takes skill. Casinos are different. They’re designed so that people lose. It’s all rigged. They let you win a few hands so you feel confident and then you just pay it all back to them so you keep playing. They literally thrive off of gambling addictions.”

“Wow, you feel really seriously about this, don’t you?” Lenalee asks.

“What I do is based on skill,” Allen sniffs. “If someone else is good enough at cheating they’ll catch me. I just haven’t found someone better than me yet.”

“I like this side of you, Al. It’s spicy. I feel a little scared right now, but in a sexy way?”

“You never fucking stop, do you?” Kanda asks. Allen is grateful for Kanda coming to his rescue. He’s starting to lose his will to live around Lavi.

“Absolutely not,” Lavi shakes his head. “Hey, take a right here, Lena.”

Allen huffs, frowning, and leans his head back against the seat. He looks over at Kanda. “Why haven’t you killed him yet?”

“Prison.”

“It’s not so bad.”

“I’m starting to feel that way.” Kanda shakes his head, pieces of his bangs falling across his cheeks. Allen likes his hairstyle today, all of it tied back into a bun towards the top of his head. A few pieces hang loose against his shoulders, but it shows off his throat. That is definitely a plus.

He thinks he might have a tiny obsession with Kanda’s hair. 

“Hey,” Allen whispers, pitching his voice as soft as he can. It catches Kanda’s attention, and they lock eyes. “You remember your promise, right. About tonight?”

Kanda’s eyes flick down to Allen’s lips. That’s answer enough, but Kanda still responds. “I remember you’re a fucking tease, yeah.”

Allen grins, closing his eyes. He likes this feeling, holding something over Kanda. It feels powerful. 

“Oh, okay, stop here!” Lavi exclaims, and Lenalee pulls over, parallel parking in the street. “Okay, the guy that runs this shop lives above it! I guarantee he can get you something!”

Allen looks out of the window at the building in question. It doesn’t look overly fancy or anything, although there is some formal wear in the window. They all exit the car while Lavi types away on his phone, and Allen tries to peek into the dark building by pressing his face up to the glass. He can’t really see much. He backs off, sighing, and walks back to the car. “It’s Christmas, Lavi. You really shouldn’t be bothering anyone.”

“No, no, it’s cool,” Lavi assures him. 

The lights flick on in the building, suddenly, and Allen is stunned by the fact that Lavi really has access to anything when he wants it. It’s a little irritating. 

The door opens, and a rather scary looking man peeks his head out. “Merry Christmas, Lavi.”

“Merry Christmas, Arystar!”

If Allen was asked to close his eyes and picture Dracula, he’s sure the image would look extremely similar to the man standing in the doorway. Severe, angular features, a large black cloak wrapped his shoulders, slicked back black and white hair. This is the person Lavi called on?

“Well, come in. We don’t want to let the draft in. You know how Eliad gets.”

Lavi shakes his head and smiles. “Ever the princess,” he grins, walking inside around the...shopkeep?

Allen looks at Lenalee and Kanda, who both look back at him and shrug, and he follows along inside as well.

The inside of the shop is a reprieve from the cold outside, which is nice. The decor is scary as all hell, though, with black walls and candelabras instead of any kind of ceiling light. He looks like Dracula, and he decorates like him, too.

Still, the clothes inside are normal. 

Lenalee sweeps Lavi over to look at the dresses with her while Allen stands in the middle of the room looking awkward. Kanda has found a cozy spot by the wall to brood and not be noticed. 

The shopkeep walks up to him, holding out a hand. “My name is Arystar Krory. Lavi said this was a matter of life and death. Crucially important. How can I help?”

“My name’s Allen,” he returns, taking Arystar’s hand. It’s freezing cold and Allen can’t help the shiver that runs up his arm. “Did he say all that? I don’t think it’s anything so dramatic.”

“It’s terrible, Arystar!” Lavi calls from over by the gowns. “He’s coming to my house tonight and has nothing to wear. You know what Gramps will say!”

Arystar smiles kindly. “Life and death then,” he concludes. Allen is nervous. So far, it sounds like the only person with normal family members is Kanda and that is extremely concerning. “Did you have anything in mind?”

“Um, I wouldn’t know where to start,” Allen says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. He’s never worn a suit in his life. 

“Help him, Kanda!” Lenalee screams, louder than she needs to in the empty shop. “Ooh, Lavi, what do you think about this one?”

Kanda snorts, rolling his eyes. “What am I supposed to do?” He kicks off the wall anyway, though, coming to stand behind Allen. He gives him a once over, then purses his lips. “Okay, fine,” he settles with a harsh sigh. It looks as though it greatly pains Kanda to be speaking about this. “Single breasted suit with a peak lapel. Probably…” He pauses. “You like tweed, Beansprout?”

Allen narrows his eyes. He doesn’t even know what tweed is. Now Kanda’s just fucking with him. “Now isn’t the time for peer pressure, Kanda.” He pauses. “But I’m down to try anything once.” He shrugs.

Kanda rolls his eyes. “Idiot. Not tweed then. Wool.”

Arystar nods. “Texture, good. It’ll suit him. Do you think gray?”

“Yeah, in gray.”

Allen is lost. “I don’t know what the two of you are talking about, but my brain tells me that it’s scary that you know so much about this,” he tells Kanda.

Kanda groans. “Trust me, I fucking wish I didn’t. I’ve spent eight long goddamn years knowing that idiot getting ready to try on dresses with his girlfriend.”

Sure enough, Allen looks over and Lavi is holding an emerald gown to his chest and fluttering his eyelashes at his reflection in a floor length mirror. Lenalee is laughing so hard she’s falling over. 

When he looks back, Arystar is scrutinizing him. “We’ll have to take your measurements, then. Maybe a thirty-one inch inseam for the pants?”

“That seems generous,” Kanda grins.

“Thirty,” Allen grumbles, looking away.

“I understand,” the shop keep nods. Without any respect for the fact that other people are around, Arystar lifts the edge of Allen’s sweater up and peers at his waist and hips. Allen yelps, fidgeting, pointedly not looking at Kanda. He feels weird showing off his bare skin in the middle of the store. “And a twenty-nine inch waist? Maybe a thirty. I’ll have to get my measuring tape for the chest, but I’m assuming thirty-four.”

Arystar is just prattling off, mentioning measurements Allen’s never even thought about. Why does his neck size matter? Either way, apparently the shopkeep thinks his neck is fourteen inches around. 

“Get Kanda’s measurements, too, Arystar!” Lavi calls, swirling around with a red strapless gown now. 

“What? No! I still have the last fucking one you made me wear!”

“Um, Kanda? I hate to break it to you, but chambray is a summer suit!” Lavi retorts.

“He’s right,” Arystar concedes, frowning. 

Kanda grumbles something too low for Allen to hear, then runs his hands down his face. “Ugh, fine. Thirty-four inch inseam, thirty-one waist, thirty-six chest, thirty-five inch sleeve.” 

“Got it. Any ideas for the material?”

Kanda ponders it for a second. Then a psychotic smile graces his face. “Yeah,” he nods, and Allen notices his voice is a little deeper, carrying a little further. Kanda glances over at Lavi, who’s still spinning around, and then says, “cashmere.”

Even Allen has heard that cashmere is a luxury item. “Yu’s being a little golddigger again, Lena!” Lavi says, but he doesn’t sound upset at all.

“He just does that to spite you, Lavi.”

“You gonna make me wear a new fucking suit? You’re gonna buy me the nicest shit here!” Kanda snarls. Then, under his breath, in a mocking voice, “Chambray is a summer suit.” He continues to mumble in his regular, deadpan tone. “Fucking summer suit my ass.”

“Arystar,” Lavi calls. “You think you can do something in Oxblood? And make Allen’s gray a charcoal.”

Kanda’s eyebrows furrow. Allen thinks Lavi doesn’t mean literal ox blood, but one can never be sure with the redhead. “I think so. I might have to take something in for Kanda’s, but that won’t be a problem.” Arystar looks at them both once more before heading to the back.

“You pick the material, I get to pick the color, Yu!” Lavi laughs, and then he gasps and grabs a golden dress from the rack before holding it up to Lenalee. “Perfect!”

Even from here, Allen can see her blush. 

She scurries off behind a curtain, presumably to try it on, and Lavi shoves his hands in pockets before wandering back over to them. “I think y’all’s suits will look good together. If Al’s doing gray, your light blue chambray wouldn’t have complimented him anyway, Yu.”

Kanda rolls his eyes. “This ain’t fucking prom.”

“If it was, I’d be taking lots of pictures of my precious baby boy pinning a boutonniere on his new boyfriend.”

Allen is afraid to ask, but he can’t help himself. “And...who’s...your baby boy?”

“There is a right answer, Lavi, remember that,” Kanda warns. 

Lavi looks between them, squinting. “Well, Allen, I’d have to say you. You’re quite literally my baby boy, because you’re small and cute and I will treasure you for the rest of my life.”

Allen sags forward, sad. “Small and cute?”

“Very small,” Kanda offers, pushing down on Allen’s head and making him bend lower. Jokes on him, Allen used to be an acrobat. Kanda falls forward and stumbles when Allen vaults himself nearly in half, hands pressing into the carpet to catch himself. He’d grab his ankles but with the momentum he’d probably have to drop into a roll to prevent himself from smacking his head on the ground.

“Whoa,” Lavi says, eye wide. “Allen, you are mega fucking flexible. Wait, is that another superpower? It’s gotta be! What else can you do?”

Kanda snaps his head back to look at them, glaring. Allen sticks his tongue out at him as he stands to his full height. “A lot more in comfortable clothes,” he tells Lavi. 

“You are one impressive motherfucker, Al. The most interesting person I think I’ve ever met.”

“Allen!” Lenalee calls suddenly, from the changing room. “Can you come zip me up, please?”

Allen stretches, groaning. “Why me?” But he goes anyway, trekking over to the curtain she had disappeared behind. He tips it to the side a little, peeking around it, and sees her reflection in the mirror in front of her. 

Resplendent is the word. Her green hair brushes her shoulders, and the train of the dress reaches almost outside of the changing room. She’s holding it up by the chest and locks eyes with him in the mirror. “My zipper, please.”

He blinks and nods, careful not to step on the bottom of her dress. Gripping the base of the zipper, he easily slides it up until it’s fastened. It’s an absolutely perfect fit, which is shocking since it’s straight off the rack, strapless and sleek, following the shape of her body all the way down to the floor. “What do you think?” She asks, spinning around. 

“You look amazing,” he says, earnestly. “Beautiful.”

She flushes with happiness, giggling behind her hand. The dress is perfect, a shining gold that somehow makes her purple eyes even more vibrant. It looks a little formal for Christmas dinner, but she’s so pretty it doesn’t matter. 

“Well, time for a reveal then!” She replies, excited. “You have to escort me out!”

He laughs, holding his hand out for her. She takes it, grip light against his palm, and he slowly backs out from behind the curtain, careful to help her walk precariously enough to not trip over the bottom of her dress. 

The train of the dress drags behind her as she comes around, and she drapes herself against Allen’s arm; if he wasn’t in a giant sweater, they might look like a celebrity couple. He looks up at Lavi and Kanda, who are both staring at Lenalee with open amazement. 

Lavi looks completely flabbergasted, mouth hanging open in surprise. Allen sees the exact moment he realizes what he’s doing, though, and he snaps his mouth shut before collecting himself and bounding forward. “Lena! I have magnificent taste! You look like Lana Del Rey!”

“You think so?” She laughs, burying her face into Allen’s shoulder, clearly feeling shy. He can feel the heat from her cheeks. 

“It looks good.” Is all Kanda says.

“Master of vocabulary there,” Allen teases.

Kanda shrugs. “She looks good.”

It’s an accurate, if simple, statement.

At this moment, Arystar peeks his head out from the back. “Kanda, can you come see? I need to make sure the pant leg isn’t too short.”

Kanda rolls his eyes, but goes without a word. 

“You look amazing, Lena,” Lavi says, smile bright. “Seriously, that color is great on you.”

“I think so, too!” She says, looking at Lavi again. Allen, very familiar with masks, can easily see the ones they wear. Lenalee looks an appropriate level of pleased and haughty, where Lavi plays the ever fun-loving, irreverent best friend. 

He thinks, in reality, this moment is a lot softer; there’s layers and layers of subtext, years and years of feelings, and he gets the idea that he’s intruding. He tries to pull away, but Lenalee’s grip on his arm tightens. He sees her eyebrow twitch a little, her smile strain a bit. Okay, he understands. He’ll stay.

“What are you going to wear?” She questions Lavi with a cute tilt of her head. 

Lavi clears his throat, pointedly keeping his eyes trained on her face. “Black silk.”

“That sounds nice,” she nods. 

Lavi also nods.

Allen feels incredibly embarrassed for them. He decides to take pity on them. “It’s a gorgeous dress, Lenalee. Do you need me to help you unzip so you can change back into your regular clothes?”

She looks at him like he just saved her life. “Thank you! Yes, please!” 

They usher back into the changing room, where she lets out a big breath she’d apparently been holding as he helps her get out of her dress. When she’s stripped down to just her bra and underwear he spins on his heel, staring at the curtain, and she laughs. “You’re okay, Allen. I’ve grown up around nothing but boys. I don’t have a lot of shame left.”

He still feels weird. He doesn’t want to watch his friend undress. “Be that as it may…”

“Okay, okay, Mr. Hardened ‘I’m a Master of Music, Cheating People Out of Their Money, and - apparently - Contortions.’ Can’t watch a girl undress.”

“It’s different!” He hisses. 

“You’re such a virgin, Allen.”

He spins on his heel, bristling, just as she’s pulling on her jeans. He opens his mouth to retort, but then closes it. Anything he would have to say would just dig a hole for him. 

She shakes her head and laughs as she leans against the wall and pulls on her boots. “Bet it won’t last long after seeing Kanda in a suit. Pretty sure the last time he wore a suit it triggered several people’s sexual awakening.”

Allen doesn’t really doubt it. 

They both exit the changing room, and Allen goes to sit on a stool next to the wall, while Lenalee and Lavi look around at the different suit jackets, picking out particularly ugly ones and laughing at them. Lavi tries on each and every one, posing with each of them, and Allen thinks they’re very sweet, even if they are very stupid. 

He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall. He’s never worn a suit, or even ever owned anything as expensive as one from this store. He’s definitely out of his comfort zone, but that’s been a constant since they moved here. 

He’s probably weird that a life as a vagabond is something more comfortable than day to day life with relatively normal people. 

He hears the door to the back open, and slowly turns his head to look. He thinks he feels exactly how Lavi felt when Lenalee came out of the fitting room.

His mouth is immediately dry as Kanda walks out, fiddling with his suit jacket sleeve, straightening everything out. The suit itself is a deep, dark red, luxurious and gorgeous, but even though the color is stunning, the cut of the suit is what has Allen’s breath caught in his throat.

The suit hugs every part of him, his shoulders, his waist, his arms . Those biceps are eventually going to give him an actual heart attack. 

Would it be wrong and inappropriate to drag Kanda into the changing room and take that suit right off of him? It is the twenty-fifth, after all, the day Allen promised Kanda they’d officially make good on their feelings. 

“Damn, I do have good taste,” Lavi cuts in. “Like, really good. Look, Allen is over there withering away.”

Allen feels lightheaded. He doesn’t even mind agreeing with Lavi. He just nods as Kanda’s attention moves to him instead of the suit. Their eyes meet and Allen has to literally drag himself away. He’s afraid if he doesn’t he’s going to do something drastic. 

But Kanda walks up to him, that bastard. He looks up, expression pained. “What?” Allen asks. His voice breaks.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t think either of us want me to say what I think in front of Lavi or Lenalee.”

Both of Kanda’s eyebrows raise, but he seems to agree. “It’s more comfortable than I thought it would be,” he says instead of pursuing his original question.

“That’s great,” Allen returns, aware of how weak his voice is. “Just...just great…”

“Allen,” Arystar calls, and Allen has never been so glad to be called away to try on clothes. 

“I’ll...be back,” he says, staring at the ground and walking away. He might be obvious, but it’s better than the alternatives, which are somewhere around fainting or committing an act of public indecency. 

The back of the shop looks much like Allen assumed it would. There’s mannequins everywhere, wearing various clothing items, and a large table with sewing machines, rulers, various items Allen couldn’t name if his life depended on it. 

“Okay, I have this, but I know I’m going to have to alter it a bit. And that’s okay, I can do that quickly enough.” Arystar holds up a dark gray suit jacket to Allen’s front. “Yeah, the sleeves are a bit long. The cut at the waist may work, though.” He turns around and grabs a white shirt from off the table. “I guessed medium on your shirt size.”

“Sounds right,” Allen answers, feeling a little overwhelmed. He’s forming a pretty serious case of imposter syndrome already and he hasn’t even put on the suit yet. 

He pulls his clothes off, folding them and setting them to the side before taking the shirt and buttoning it up. The material is cool and soft, comfortable as hell. He moves a little bit and finds it has a bit of give, too. He doesn’t feel stiff in it at all.

He takes the suit pants from Arystar and steps into them. They fit great at the waist and down through the hips, but they are a little long to his chagrin. “Hmm, seems like it’s a twenty-nine inch inseam after all.” Arystar mumbles to himself and Allen looks up at the ceiling and cries internally. Kanda can never know. 

The tailor kneels on the ground, pulling the pant leg taught, folding it under, and securing it with pins before standing back up and grabbing the suit jacket. Allen slides into it, imposter syndrome getting a little worse. Arystar pulls on the coat sleeves and hums. “Sleeves look good actually.” He buttons the jacket up, tugging on it a bit. “Needs to be taken in though.” With a critical glance, squinting his eyes at Allen’s ensemble, he grumbles to himself before spinning on his heel and walking away.

He isn’t sure what he did to offend Arystar so much.

But the man comes back with a vest. “I think it needs this.”

Allen takes the coat off before getting into the vest and buttoning it up. It feels very secure. He thinks it’s comfortable, and Arystar seems to be satisfied with the addition. 

“Okay, now the jacket again.”

Allen obliges, feeling a bit like a dress up doll. The coat seems to fit better when over the vest. The shopkeep purses his lips, then nods.

“Yeah, I think that’s it. It can definitely get away with not being taken in, especially if you leave it open. Which you should.”

Allen’s eyebrows scrunch. There’s a lot of rules and things to think about with formal wear. 

He undresses again, feeling extremely uncomfortable as Arystar brings his pants to the sewing machine and turns them inside out before fixing the hem. “This won’t take long,” the shopkeep assures him, taking pins out and putting them between his abnormally sharp teeth. 

Dracula. 

Allen shivers a bit, wrapping his arms around him. He’s just standing here, mostly naked, but Arystar doesn’t seem to even notice Allen’s awkwardness. He just runs the pants under the machine, eyes squinting as he does so, focused on his task. True to his word, though, he’s done extremely quick. He’s clearly practiced, and Allen is able to pull everything back on less than two or three minutes later. 

Arystar nods. “Perfect. Looks great.” He smooths out Allen’s lapel, appreciating his handiwork. “I think you’ll match your boyfriend very well, Lavi was right.”

Allen flushes, closing his eyes. He doesn’t bother to correct Arystar. There’s no point, anyway.

With that, he’s practically shoved out of the back room. He stumbles into the main area of the shop, having to hold on to the front counter to keep himself from toppling over. The suit is very comfortable, at least, like Kanda said. It doesn’t feel like it’s going to pull apart at the seams when he moves. 

He looks up, and everyone is looking at him. 

“Sometimes I forget you’re really hot,” Lenalee says plainly, as if that wasn’t a very strange, backwards compliment. 

“You are seriously an eleven, Al, holy shit. You look like James Bond.”

He preens a little, finding himself pulling down on the suit jacket. If he just forgets this suit embodies everything he’s never been, he can admit it's fun. At least he looks like he fits in now. 

With more courage than he should really need, he looks at Kanda. He’s a little nervous about his reaction, but he shouldn’t be. Kanda’s eyes are dark and lidded, looking at Allen like he’s something to devour. He shivers, unable to tear his eyes away. “Well,” he clears his throat, throwing Kanda’s question back at him. “What do you think?”

He doesn’t need to have asked, he can easily see what Kanda thinks reflected in his heavy gaze, but he’s interested to see if Kanda even has anything to say.

The dark haired man stands without a word and slowly walks over to Allen, and when he’s close enough he wraps his fingers around Allen’s lapels and yanks him forward. Allen catches himself against Kanda’s chest, hands pressed to the front of his suit jacket, and he melts at Kanda’s scent. Comfort, like blankets tucked under you and rain pitter pattering on the window. 

The feeling is immediately replaced by overwhelming lust when Kanda presses his lips to Allen’s ear, though. “I think you shouldn’t be alone with me until you’re ready to have it torn off of you.” 

Allen exhales through his nose, immobilized, mortified that their friends are there but unable to pull himself away. He doesn’t even know what to say in response, he just nods his head in understanding. 

Kanda pushes him away a bit, then, and stalks off towards the back room. 

Allen sways on the spot, feeling searing heat everywhere. Lavi and Lenalee are making a show of looking at everything but him, and he can’t take being in this room anymore. He needs to feel cold air on his cheeks to pull the heat from them. He turns around, managing to get out of the shop before leaning his back against the brick wall next to it and breathing in and out. How did Kanda say to meditate again? 

He needs to empty his head? How can he when he can still feel the warm puff of Kanda’s breath against his ear? 

He hears himself moan softly, running hands down his face. That was easily the most erotic experience of the decade. It’s a damn good thing Allen only has a few more hours until midnight. He doesn’t know how he could hold out much longer. 

Chapter Text

Wrought iron gates split open, slowly and smoothly, and Lenalee drives through them without a second thought. The lawn is perfectly manicured, larger than any other he’s seen yet in the city, with an impressive fountain Allen could probably swim in and hedges so tall someone would have to climb them to see the property. Small topiaries line a path that splits up the middle of the lawn, forks in front of the fountain and then comes together after it, and continues until it reaches the front steps. 

Even the front steps are unreal and impressive, what looks like solid concrete or some other stone, and they lead to a porch outfitted with giant, circular pillars. He lets his gaze drift up, up, until they land on a rounded balcony attached to the second story. Even higher up there’s a small gate wrapped around the roof, leaving Allen to assume there’s more usable space on top of the house. He takes everything in pieces, unable to see it all at once; curved banisters reaching up the stairs, impressive windows that betray glimpses of the inside of the home, gas lanterns mounted on either side of the oak front door, white stone walls. 

He can’t quite tell the architecture's origins. He’s seen a lot of buildings in his time, all over the Americas and Europe and Asia, and the closest thing he could associate the style with would be from history books. The pillars make him think of ancient Greece, but the shape of the house looks like it comes from old America. He doesn’t know any technical terms for housing styles, but he almost thinks this house could be something all its own. 

Either way, it’s too beautiful to really be where Lavi lives; it has to be, though - Lenalee and Kanda are treating the grounds as if they’re boring. Like they’ve seen it a million times. They look at everything impassively, just like how they spoke about tigers and islands. 

It all seems so excessive. No one needs this much house. Allen thinks of Italy, of cobblestone streets and the children that lived in the alleyways between buildings. 

He exhales, closing his eyes, the imposter syndrome returning. He’s never known anything more than what he’s seen with his godfather and a small area of England. Countryside and red light districts seem further away than ever now, but this is so much, too much. A little three bedroom house outside of the quarter was new to him, something different from run down apartments and motels; how can he be here now, with Lenalee pulling through another set of gates where a number of cars are parked. Even this area is beautiful, surrounded by the tall hedges and a small fountain that lines them. 

He blinks, looking down at his mismatched hands, clenching his fists. Allen shouldn’t be here, this isn’t him. He has more in common with orphans in communal housing than whatever this is. Outside of himself, he hears the car doors opening, and he blinks, coming out of his thoughts. 

Kanda’s watching him, expression unreadable but relaxed. He seems to think for a moment before extending a cautious hand and laying it on Allen’s thigh. It’s for comfort, he can tell from the hesitant way it’s placed; he clearly doesn’t know Allen’s thoughts, but he can tell something is going on. 

Allen looks to the hand on his thigh and swallows, then looks up out of the window on the other side of Kanda. Lavi and Lenalee have already walked away from the car, chatting with each other. Lenalee’s golden dress drags against the concrete driveway but everything is so pristine that there’s no fear of it getting dirty. 

“Hey.”

Kanda calls his attention, and he realizes he got distracted. 

“Hi,” Allen returns, attempting a smile.

“What the fuck’s wrong?”

Kanda clearly seems unused to asking the question. The words seem to be forced out of his mouth, like he had to struggle to say them. Maybe he did. “I…” Allen looks around, outside of his window, to the perfectly green hedges again. “Earlier this year I was in Paris, sleeping in the back room of a bar because we didn’t have a hotel room. I remember staring at the ceiling and smelling booze and falling asleep to that. Before that, we slept in a hostel room that had six other people in it. Before that we had an apartment in Russia just outside of my godfather’s favorite brothel.” He makes a pained expression and lays his hand over Kanda’s. “Even normal is odd to me.”

Kanda is quiet for a moment. “When I first came to America, the five of us had a three bedroom house. I was so angry, because as the fucking youngest, I had to share a room with Daisya, but that night I slept in my bed and I realized that it was the first time I had slept in an actual bed in a long time.” Allen looks over and Kanda licks his lips, deep in thought. “But I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what reason there could be for not remembering what a fucking bed felt like. I just knew that there was a...bone-deep comfort and I slept the best I had in forever, even with that idiot brother of mine a few feet away.”

Allen frowns, folding their hands together, and Kanda continues. It’s the most Allen’s ever heard him say in one sitting. “It didn’t make any fucking sense. I asked the old man why I couldn’t remember what a bed felt like the next day and he just cried. It didn’t even occur to me that I couldn’t remember much at all from the previous years.”

He’s trying to relate to Allen, in some way. “Amnesia?”

“I’m getting to my point,” Kanda huffs. “When I was twelve, I came to Lavi’s house for the first time, and I got so goddamn angry that I started breaking anything I could find in their front living room. It seemed unfair that I hadn’t even known what a bed felt like a few years earlier, but he had lived in luxury his whole life.” Allen inhales, sharply. “It’s been almost a decade, though, and I got used to it, I guess.”

He’d never really thought too much about Kanda’s past. He didn’t know where to start. He had a foster father, which meant Kanda’s biological parents weren’t in the picture, but besides that there wasn’t much to go on. He never could have dreamed Kanda had gone through anything like that. 

“Thank you for telling me.”

Kanda grumbles something and then says, “The only time I ever saw Lavi get angry at me was after that. He’d said something about how he had never asked to live there.”

It makes sense. Even though Lavi speaks about everything so naturally, it’s because he grew up in it. No one ever asks for their station in life when they’re children, whether they’re placed in a foster family, or traveling the world with a shitty guardian, or spending their summers on a private island. 

Allen smiles, for real this time, and brings Kanda’s hand up to kiss it softly. He doesn’t say anything else, it doesn’t seem like Kanda wants to speak on it anymore from his tone of voice and they’ve already been in the car far too long. He drops Kanda’s hand between them and pulls on the car door handle, climbing out. 

He walks into the house with Kanda at his side, close by. Music plays sweet and low, and he takes a deep breath before looking around him. 

The inside of the house is even more impressive than the outside. The floors are smooth white marble, and the ceiling goes up and up and up - the walls are pale cream, lined with paintings and mirrors and decorative tables. There’s a grand staircase that leads to the second floor adorned with green garland, and there’s three openings that lead to different rooms. 

Kanda nods a head towards the right opening. Allen can see a giant christmas tree through it, with heaps of gifts underneath, and they walk into what Allen assumes is the front living room Kanda had mentioned. There’s a white, upright piano against one wall, decorated with green garland and red bows, and he tears his eyes away from it to see a plush cream couch and matching loveseat and armchairs. There’s a television too, playing the music he’d heard, and Christmas lights not yet lit up lining the windows. Intricate molding lines the ceiling, but he looks back to the tree again. It’s covered with red and silver garland and matching baubles, looking put together and unlike most trees he’s seen. 

Kanda has to physically push him out of the room, not harshly, but enough to guide so that he stops looking at everything. The other opening in the room leads to a dining room, but Kanda doesn’t give him enough time to notice much besides the red table cloth. 

They end up in the kitchen, where Lenalee and Lavi are, and this room is even bigger than the last two. White cabinets line opposite walls, and the far wall has the appliances. Two, two, islands sit in the middle of the room, and they’re both covered in food. There’s a chef at the stove, cooking something while Lenalee and Lavi sip at their drinks, leaning against a giant window that covers nearly the entire room and faces a courtyard. Lenalee perks up, setting her drink on a small table and walking over to them. 

“Well, gentleman,” she says coquettishly, fluttering her eyelashes and holding out her hand to them. “So nice to see you. It’s been far too long.”

Allen grins, grabbing her hand and going down to one knee. “It has, Duchess.”

She giggles and leans over to Kanda, still playing the part and whispering conspiratorially. “He’s ever so charming. How did you find him?”

He releases her hand and stands back up, taking another look at the room. Even the kitchen is decorated, but less so than the living room. “How’d you know they were in the kitchen?” Allen asks, looking at Kanda. He just nods to Lenalee. 

“I like the big window in here!” She says, excited, pulling on Allen’s hand to get him a better view of the courtyard. “It’s too cold outside to lounge in the garden in this dress. I like to sit by the window here and look out instead when it’s raining or chilly.”

Kanda, that sap, knows his friends very well.

Lavi sets his drink down, too, as Allen takes in the courtyard. There’s another fountain here. “Your grandfather really likes his fountains,” Allen comments. 

Lavi laughs. “I’ll be fair and say they were all here when he bought the house.”

Allen looks back at him. “Have you lived here your entire life?”

“Yeah,” Lavi nods, looking outside. “It’s always been home.” He pauses, looking serious for a moment before grinning again. “Let me give you a tour!” He wraps an arm around Allen’s shoulders and guides him out the kitchen, into another giant room. It looks like another living room, but even more gorgeous. “This is the formal living room. We don’t spend a lot of time in here.” Allen turns his head to take in the giant fireplace and glass door that appears to lead into the backyard as Lavi walks him into the front room. He’s rushing Allen almost as much as Kanda did. “That’s the downstairs bathroom,” Lavi points to a door off the hall they’ve walked into, then another next to it. “That’s the study. Don’t go in there. It’s sacred to Gramps. He’s weird about it.” They enter into a smaller room, darkly lit and lined with mirrors. “This is the bar. We keep it stocked, but don’t have too much use for it.” Christmas lights, still unlit like the ones in the front living room, line the bartop. Lavi guides him out of the bar and into what appears to be focused on entertaining. Allen walks even faster than Lavi now, right out of his hold, and to the concert grand piano in the middle of the room. It’s huge, even bigger than the piano in the auditorium he had auditioned at. “Oh yeah, that,” Lavi says, as if it was an afterthought and not the most beautiful thing Allen has ever seen. “We got that when I was a kid. Gramps wanted me to be cultured or something, but I never took to it.”

Allen gives him a dry look. Lavi couldn’t have gotten very far in lessons if he can’t even play C scale. 

Lavi motions to it. “Play something. I have to go get changed anyway.” He points to the left side of the room and Allen looks, seeing the foyer through the opening. “The house just circles around. That’s basically the first floor.” 

Allen feels speechless, but he nods and looks back at the piano. He hears Lavi chuckle as he walks away and Allen sits on the bench, forgetting to breathe as he lifts the cover over the keys. He presses a key to listen to it. 

The room is so designed that the sound rings off the walls, and it’s so satisfying that Allen does it once more before easily slipping into a soft and jazzy Silent Night. His eyes slip closed as he plays, his fingers gently moving over the keys, and he’s so entranced he nearly doesn’t hear Lenalee and Kanda enter the room. He looks over, watching them sit on a couch in the corner, and Lenalee motions at him to look back at the keys. He just smiles happily, closing his eyes once more and turning back to the grand. 

“It’s beautiful,” he hears Lenalee whisper. 

Kanda mumbles something back to her in response, but Allen can’t hear him over the music. 

He sways gently, smiling to himself, continuing the song, when a new voice rings through the room.

“Marie, is that you?”

Allen turns around, eyes wide as who he presumes is Lavi’s grandfather walks into the room.

“Who are you and what are you doing?”

The man standing there is short in stature, but his presence takes up the room. He has a ponytail of gray hair, and a severe expression on his face. The suit he’s in is stark black, shining in the light of the room. 

“Whoa, whoa, Grandpa Bookman,” Lenalee exclaims, clattering up from her seat and briskly walking over to Allen. “This is our friend, Allen Walker.”

Lavi’s grandfather hums for a second. “Stand up.” Allen scrambles to stand, extremely intimidated and afraid of what would happen if he ignored the request. A critical eye looks him over, lingering around his scar and white hair, and Allen fidgets. “Ah, yes, Allen Walker. I’ve heard about you.” A pause. “Your suit is from Arystar, I assume?” Allen nods, unable to speak. 

Lenalee takes pity on him and walks in front of him towards Lavi’s grandfather. “Do you like my dress?” She spins in a circle, smiles crinkling her eyes, and Lavi’s grandfather laughs, expression changing. Suddenly he looks like a doting grandfather, taking her hand and patting it. 

“Yes, Dear. Is that from Marchesa Notte?” 

“Yes!”

He smiles at her, and then looks over at Kanda, who’s sitting on the couch looking irritated, legs and arms both crossed. “And Kanda, nice to see you again.”

Kanda grunts in response. 

“Stand up, my boy,” Lavi’s grandfather says, and while he says it in a normal tone, something behind it says it’s a command Kanda should not ignore. 

Kanda growls, but stands anyway. 

“Now come here.”

Kanda pointedly looks away as he walks up to Lavi’s grandfather.

“Such a terrible attitude,” Lavi’s grandfather shakes his head. He grabs Kanda’s hand and pats in the same way he patted Lenalee’s. “But thank you for coming, as always. Will your brothers be here?”

“Unfortunately.”

Kanda’s...brothers...all of them...here?

He realizes with a start that not only has he only met Marie, he knows nothing about the other two. Kanda said the name Daisya earlier, so that’s got to be one of them, but he doesn’t even know the last one’s name . He has a mini crisis when he realizes he’s planning to get together with someone and he doesn’t even know their immediate family members' names . 

Lenalee comes to stand next to him, leaning over to whisper to him. “I see it on your face, but don’t be scared. Not of Grandpa Bookman, and definitely not of Kanda’s brothers.”

“I don’t even know all of their names, Lenalee. I’m terrible. Am I terrible?”

She laughs softly. “No, Allen. Kanda just likes to pretend he’s an only child sometimes.” He sighs, but doesn’t feel much better. “Here’s a crash course,” she says, while Lavi’s grandfather talks at Kanda. Kanda does not look pleased about it; it appears to be some interrogation of his life he’s giving one word answers to. How school is, how Eden is faring, so on and so forth. “Marie is Kanda’s oldest brother. You’ve met him before. He’s the one that helps out at NOCCA and plays piano. After Marie is Chaozii. Chaozii is a bit of a bitch, but he’ll grow on you. Don’t let him hurt your feelings, okay? After Chaozii is Daisya. Daisya is….hard to describe. I’ll say this, he and Lavi get along like peas in a pod. Don’t let them start, because they’ll never finish. They have the same exact sense of humor and the same idea that they’re the funniest people in the room at all times.”

That sounds terrible. 

Lavi takes this moment to make a grand entrance, sweeping into the room in a sleek black suit that gleams like his grandfather’s. “I am here! No more tears, for I have arrived! And with me, a bangin’ party!” A pause, as he lays eyes on the room. “Okay, Gramps, one of us has to change.” 

Lavi’s grandfather calmly walks over to him before hitting him on the back of the head. “Behave yourself tonight, Lavi.” 

Lavi grins, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry, sorry.”

“The evening starts in…” Lavi’s grandfather pulls up his sleeve to glance at a gold watch. “Just over an hour. The staff will be here shortly before. Make sure all of you are ready by then.” 

Allen glances at all of them, then pulls on his jacket sleeves. They are ready, he thinks. Lenalee even styled his hair. She leans over once more. “He doesn’t mean how we look, Allen.” 

Then what in the world does he mean?

Lavi’s grandfather walks back out the room and up the stairs, and Allen sags on the piano bench, finally able to breathe. “That was intimidating. What did he mean by get ready?” 

Lavi rolls his eyes - eye? “He’s dramatic?” 

Pot, meet kettle. 

“Lavi’s grandfather is really important. A lot of influential people will be here tonight. He means we should conduct ourselves like high society.” 

“High…societ- have any of you met me? If there’s more than one fork I won’t know what to do with it - god forbid…topics of conversation.”

“Just do what Kanda does,” Lenalee offers. 

“I don’t know how to look like a brooding asshole either!”

“Hey!” Kanda snaps. 

“Lavi, Lavi,” Allen whines, grabbing the redhead’s arm. “What do I say if someone asks me about stocks?”

Lavi clears his throat and puts on his best rich person voice. “Hmm, yes, market trends have been interesting as of late.”

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just say that and nod your head a lot when they respond. Rich people love talking about their assets.” 

“Allen, you have a great poker face. I’m sure you’ll be able to BS your way through it. Table manners though…” Lenalee trails off.

Kanda snorts. “He eats like a fucking animal. Might as well just keep him away from the table.”

“Kanda…” Allen starts, wide eyed and disbelieving. “You would… dare keep me from the most important thing in my life? I thought you knew me. I can never forget this betrayal.” He looks away dramatically, twisting his body to drop a harsh minor chord on the piano, letting it bleed into a dark and dramatic melody. “A life,” he whispers, fingers flitting up the keys in an arpeggio. “Without happiness, rife with sorrow, forever mourning the loss of an exquisite meal.”

“The level of dramatics in here tells me you’re well suited to musical theater,” Lenalee intones. 

“Yeah, Al, I thought I was the only Primadonna here.”

Allen doesn’t respond, turning his entire body to face the piano again without stopping his playing. “ Hello darkness, my old friend. I’ve come to speak to you again.”

“Wow, and now Simon and Garfunkel. I think you lost your chance with Allen,” Lenalee says, probably to Kanda. 

“ Because a vision softly creeping! Left its seeds while I was sleeping!” 

“Yeah, Yu, pal. My guy. You screwed the pooch here. Al takes his meals seriously.”

“ And the vision…that was planted in my brain still remains…” A dramatic arpeggio that flows from the fifth octave all the way down to the second. He drops his voice as low as he can go without it breaking, somewhere around an C3. “ Within the sound…of silence.” 

Enthusiastic clapping starts behind him. “Brava, brava!” Lavi exclaims. “Don’t worry, my darling baby boy…” an arm drapes across his shoulders. “I won’t let the mean ole Yu take away your greatest pleasure in life. I’ll teach you how to use three forks, how’s that?” 

Allen looks at him, sadly nodding. “Thank you.”

“This is ridiculous,” Kanda grumbles. 

“Hey…” Lenalee starts, pensive. Allen looks over at him. “What’s your vocal range?” 

Allen turns back to the keyboard and taps an E4. He vocalizes behind it, then taps an C3 and vocalizes behind that. “I can’t really go into falsetto though.”

“Whoa,” she breathes. 

Allen waves her over. “I can find yours, too. I think you’d be considered a soprano, or maybe a mezzo. Go ahead and vocalize from your chest as high as you can without your voice breaking.” 

She looks nervous, fidgeting, but after a moment finds her voice and vocalizes what he would consider a clear, pretty G5. He taps it on the keyboard. 

“Wow!” She exclaims. “That’s so cool!” 

He smiles. “Try to vocalize as low as you can. It might be easiest to trail down, if you aren’t used to it. Start with something in the middle of your range and drop your voice.” 

She does, going down and down until her voice cracks. He laughs. “Okay, then maybe a mezzo-soprano. Try it again, but stop before your voice cracks.”

She has to try twice more before she finds it, and Allen taps a A4. “So your range is somewhere between an A4 and an G5.”

“Whoa, me next!” Lavi shakes his shoulders. 

“Lavi, I’ll ask you not to make our ears bleed,” Allen returns dryly.

“Pretty please~?”

“Do not do it, Beansprout. This motherfucker cannot sing.” 

“I’m aware,” Allen groans. “But he is going to help me out, too. Go ahead, Lavi. Just do the same thing Lenalee did.” 

He tries, Allen has to give him that. It does not help the awful sounds he makes, though. “Uh, probably somewhere from C3 to A3…you’re a baritone, or a really low tenor. I guess.” If you can call the noise that Lavi made music.

“Do Kanda next!” Lenalee exclaims.

“Fuck no, I don’t sing,” Kanda growls.

Allen hits a B2. “Kanda’s a baritone or maybe a bass. Come on, try it. I’d like to know too.” 

Kanda just makes a low sound in the back of his throat. “There.” 

“That’s not vocalizing, Kanda. It’s gotta come from your diaphragm. You can’t just grunt and call it music, you caveman.” 

“I. Do Not. Sing.” 

“Listen, if you’re going to date a musician you’ll have to indulge him like this sometimes,” Allen says nonchalantly. Then his stupid brain catches up with him. “I…uh…”

He cannot look at any of them. He shuts the cover on the keyboard, stands, and promptly walks out of the room. “I didn’t say that,” he assures them loudly as he nearly jogs away. “You all hallucinated at the same time.”

He feels the heat in his cheeks and he rubs at them furiously as he walks into the front living room and slumps onto the couch. He just can’t seem to stop embarrassing himself. He and Kanda have never actually spoken about anything specifically in regards to where they intend to go in the long term, it’s just sort of been happening. It feels like it’s been a slow crawl towards this, and yet somehow he gets the overwhelming feeling everything is happening all at once. 

Something really changed after Kanda saved him from…whatever he needed saving from. He never found out what it was, and Kanda never mentioned it again, but it had to be drastic for the sudden change in their interactions. Kanda’s so much gentler now, in an absurdly surprising way; he’s been thrown completely off guard. That coupled with how Allen woke up just feeling…different…has him confused, but somehow so sure. Whatever reservations he’d had before, it seems as though he overcame them the day Kanda came to his rescue. 

He just wishes he could remember what that was. 

The couch next to him dips, and Allen glances over. 

Kanda looks uncomfortable, frowning and looking away. Allen decides to take a breath and speak to him instead of just walking away. “That was presumptuous of me. I don’t even know what I was thinking.” 

Lavi and Lenalee didn’t come with Kanda, probably to give them some space. It’s clear this conversation needs to happen sooner rather than later. 

“It wasn’t presumptuous,” Kanda mumbles, still looking away. “You aren’t an idiot.” 

Allen looks at his hands, then back at Kanda. “I know I…said some things on Halloween night. I remember it all, even though I pretended I didn’t. I was just embarrassed.” 

Kanda sighs harshly, running a hand through his hair. It’s been left down tonight, which Allen appreciates. “You were pretty fucking embarrassing.” 

“I know,” Allen smiles thinly. “But I wasn’t lying.” 

“I know…”

“What happened that day I ended up sleeping at your house?”

Kanda purses his lips, silent as if contemplating what he should say. “It’s probably best you don’t remember.”

“But I need to. I need to understand where this…this feeling came from. The one I have now.” Allen places his hand on his chest, feeling his pulse flutter. 

Kanda slowly looks at him, eyebrows furrowed. “You…got confused or something. Called me in a panic. When I got to you there was some guy there you kept calling Tyki, and you seemed afraid of him. I punched him in his stupid nose and then carried you back to my car and brought you to my house.” 

Allen thinks that was probably the abridged version. 

“Confused?” 

“You…didn’t seem like yourself. You didn’t know where you were or how you got there.” 

Allen swallows. “Mana was like that…sometimes.” He closes his eyes tightly. He can’t think about that now. “But you did save me. I didn’t know how, but I could just feel it. I swear, that night you became a comfort. I never feel safer than when I’m around you.” 

Kanda seems shocked, but then he bites his bottom lip and looks away. Allen had a plan for tonight. To play a song for Kanda to try to articulate everything he felt, and he planned to kiss him there, deep and emotional. 

“Can you at least look at me?” He whispers. 

For a second, it seems like Kanda is going to ignore him, but then he does. “Comfort, huh?” He asks, voice shaking. 

“Yeah,” Allen says softly. He places a hand on Kanda’s cheek; it’s warm against his palm. “Your scent, your rare smiles, how it feels to touch you and be touched by you…” His eyes flick down, and then back up. “I…really like you. That used to be a scary thing. I thought I couldn’t feel these things, and it frightened me that I might just hurt myself in the end. I really tried to put some distance between us, but it didn’t work in the end.” 

Kanda takes a deep breath. “Beansprout…”

“Can you say my name, please? My actual name.” 

Kanda leans closer to him, expression soft. “Allen.” 

He shivers. “I had hoped it was just attraction. I’ve been attracted to you from the start. But it isn’t. There’s so much more… so much. I don’t want to just be your friend anymore.” 

“Then don’t be,” Kanda returns, close enough now that Allen can feel his breath. Allen’s eyes close on instinct, and he holds his breath. 

“I want to be with you.” Allen whispers. “I want to feel you all the time. I want your smiles and your kisses. Your snarky comebacks and rough hands. I want -“ 

Kanda kisses him, and Allen immediately melts into it, returning the kiss. It’s soft, unrushed, almost timid. Their lips move against each other gently, and he feels Kanda’s hands move to his sides, drawing him closer. 

They pull apart, looking into each other’s eyes, then kiss again. Allen sighs into it, wrapping his arms around Kanda’s neck, feeling overwhelmed and warm and happy. It doesn’t feel especially urgent, just comfortable. 

He thinks as far as first kisses go, this is a good one. 

“I hope you don’t mean to tear off my suit and ravage me on Lavi’s couch,” Allen breathes against Kanda’s lips, laughing. 

Kanda smirks back at him. “I did say you shouldn’t be alone with me.” He leans forward to give a few quick nips to Allen’s jaw. He’s being playful; the thought makes Allen’s heart soar. 

Allen giggles, placing his hands on Kanda’s chest but not pushing him away. “As much as he’d like it, I don’t think Lavi deserves a show.”

“But it’s the twenty-fifth,” Kanda whispers mirthfully. Allen can feel his grin against his cheek. 

“And I said midnight.” Feeling brave, Allen moves Kanda’s hair over his shoulder and presses his lips to the side of Kanda’s neck. 

This elicits a shiver from Kanda, who makes a throaty noise. “You make it real fucking hard to listen to that, Beansprout.”

“I said to call me Allen,” he returns, biting at Kanda’s neck. He feels the fingers gripping his waist tighten. “If you can’t behave and listen, I’ll have to work you up and then let you suffer even longer.”

“Fuck, Allen, goddamn. You sure you don’t know what you’re fucking doing?” 

“I’m doing whatever I want,” Allen whispers, running his tongue against the reddening mark he’d left behind. 

Kanda buries his face in Allen’s hair and makes a soft noise. 

Allen feels his body reacting to all this and knows it needs to stop before they make a mess of this expensive couch with their friends able to peek around the corner whenever they want. 

He leans back, smirking, watching Kanda pant and go to grab him again. 

Allen quickly places a finger against his lips. “I said to behave, Yu.”

The sound Kanda makes is unholy, beautiful, something he could happily listen to for the rest of his life. 

“You’re the fucking worst,” Kanda grinds out, but there’s no anger behind it. 

Allen is well and truly just as affected by all this, but pulls himself further back. “I don’t think you mean that. I think your favorite part is when I call you by your name. ”

Kanda’s eyes narrow, but he pulls away as well. He opens his mouth to reply when the front door busts open. “The party don’t start ‘til I walk in!” 

Kanda growls, looking towards the foyer. “Fucking hell.” He looks back at Allen. “My fucking brothers are here.”

Okay, that’s fine. Totally fine. This is totally not the worst time to meet Kanda’s family. He is definitely not half hard and he is definitely super prepared to meet them. 

Kanda looks as panicked as Allen feels. 

Fucking hell is right. 

“So, Allen.” The brother named Daisya leans forward from his seat on the chair opposite them. “I have heard so much about you.” Allen looks at Kanda, confused. “Oh, not from baby bro. Lavi told me everything I needed to know.” 

“Don’t call me that!”

Okay that sounds all kinds of terrible. “Uh…Lavi did?”

Daisya nods. “Oh, absolutely. You are every bit the scrumptious little James Bond he’d told me.” Allen puts his face in his hands. They are not two peas in a pod, Lenalee. They are identical copies. “But you’re taken by baby bro, and I don’t go for that weird shit.” 

Allen groans, wanting to cry. “I said don’t call me that!” Kanda snaps. “And stop being so fucking disgusting!” 

“Yeah, you’re making a great impression,” Chaozii deadpans.

“I just calls it like I sees it,” Daisya shrugs. “Where is my handsome little bestie, anyway?” 

The most mortifying part of all of this is that Marie is sitting on the loveseat, just smiling at all of them. Marie who works at his school . Allen assumes he’s used to it, but it’s still mortifying. 

“I don’t fucking know. He went skipping off with Lenalee earlier.”

“What?” Daisya whines, eyes wide. “That homewrecking Bitch! No one comes between me and my main man!” He stands. “I’m coming, Lavi! I’m sorry I couldn't fulfill all your needs, but I’ll do better, I promise!” He runs out of the room.

Immediately after, they hear Lavi’s holler from across the house. “I could never forget you, Bro! You’re all I need! I’m coming!” 

“I hate them.” Kanda snarls. 

“We know,” Marie laughs. “But they’re having fun. Leave them be, try not to punch either of them tonight.”

“That depends on them,” Kanda grumbles, looking away. 

“So…Allen…” Chaozii starts, frowning. For some reason, he looks unhappy. “What makes you think-“

“You don’t fucking start either!” Kanda snaps. 

Allen’s just confused now. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Marie shakes his head. “Not at all.” 

Allen is now even more confused. “Um…?” He looks over at Chaozii.

“I just need to make sure he’s good for you, Kanda.”

“That is so not for you to fucking decide.”

“You don’t exactly have a great track record!”

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

“I’m your brother, I get to worry about you!” 

“I’m an adult! Leave me the fuck alone!” 

Chaozii snaps his mouth shut, but glares at Allen. “Do you care about my brother?”

“I…yes? I mean, of course. I just don’t…get what you mean?” Allen shrinks into the couch a bit, wondering what in the world is happening and why Kanda’s brother already doesn’t trust him. 

“I mean do you plan to treat him like he deserves?” 

Ah, so that’s what it is. 

Kanda stands suddenly, and Allen thinks he might leap over the coffee table and attack his brother. He shoots forward, grabbing Kanda’s wrist. “It…it’s okay,” Allen says, gently. “It’s alright. It’s good that you have people that care about you, and he doesn’t know me.” 

Kanda looks back at Allen, fury radiating off of him. “He doesn’t get to decide who is or isn’t worth my fucking time.”

“That might be true,” Allen concedes, voice softening ever further. “But let’s not fight, okay? Make that my birthday present: don’t murder your brothers.”

Kanda grumbles, but sits down. 

“Impressive, Allen,” Marie says, looking a little shocked. “You diffused that very easily.”

“He still hasn’t answered my question,” Chaozii gripes. 

Allen takes in a breath, flushing. “I care about him very much and intend to treat him as such. You don’t have to trust me just yet, but I hope I can show you I mean well.” 

Chaozii deflates a little, but Kanda still looks angry. “Kanda’s had some shitty men interested in him before, and he doesn’t always care how he’s treated by them.” 

Kanda bristles, going ramrod straight. “That is so fucking uncalled for. You don’t get to just fucking prattle off whatever the fuck you want in front of Allen.” 

Allen looks at Kanda, blinking. Chaozii is insinuating something no one really enjoys talking about with someone they like - exes - but rather than feeling uncomfortable or insecure, he really just feels…nice. Kanda is being protective. Also, he used his name. Nice. 

It also makes him a little sad that people treated him poorly when he likely trusted them. 

“I can say whatever the hell I want, Kanda.” 

“You aren’t our goddamn father!” Kanda bellows, making Allen flinch. He’s never heard Kanda so angry before, and it’s a little concerning. 

“Kanda,” he calls, trying to be as gentle as possible, scooting closer to him, putting a hand against his back gently. “Kanda, it’s okay. Calm down. We’re okay.” 

Kanda turns to him, seething. “You don’t understand. Don’t get involved.” 

Allen knows the shock displays on his face. “I was just trying to help,” he says back, feeling defensive. 

Kanda grimaces and turns back to Chaozii. Allen doesn’t know their situation, that’s true, and he likely overstepped, but he was just trying to help. He sighs, but he understands. He keeps his hand on Kanda’s back and starts to rub circles on it. Slowly, some of the tension in Kanda’s posture relaxes. 

“I know I’m not dad,” Chaozii starts, his voice wavering. “But I am still allowed to love you just the same.” 

“You’re overbearing and annoying as fuck,” Kanda spits, but at least he isn’t yelling anymore. “You always fucking do this. I’m not a child. Ever since that man died you think you get to have a fucking say on every little bit of my goddamn life, but you don’t .” 

Chaozii doesn’t say anything in response, clearly seeing that he isn’t going to make any headway in this argument. He stands, looking away from all of them. “I’m getting a fucking drink.” 

As soon as Chaozii leaves, all the tension in the room dissipates. Kanda leans back against the couch with a huff, and Allen pulls his hand out. “Hey,” he laughs, trying to diffuse Kanda’s irritation. “Don’t go trying to squish my hand. I need that to play piano and eat food. Two very important things to me.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Kanda covers his eyes with his hand, and Marie finally speaks. 

“Neither of you are right, Kanda. You know that.” 

“One of us has to be fucking right, dumbass.” 

“You know what I mean. Chaozii did not take our father’s passing well at all. We’re all he has left.”

“Then he needs to start respecting our goddamn wishes, or he’s going to lose us too.” 

Marie frowns. “You don’t mean that.” 

Kanda makes a noise of irritation. “He drives me up the goddamn wall. When I went to fucking college, he didn’t like what I picked. When I picked my degree, he didn’t like that either. God fucking forbid I wanna fuck anyone, because he’s gotta police that, too.”

“No need to be so crass in front of Allen.”

“I-it’s okay,” Allen insists, waving his hands in front of him. “I get it. I do.” And he does, even though the concept of Kanda fucking other people is a worse thought than him just being interested in them. He has to force down any jealousy or insecurity he has. That wouldn’t be fair to Kanda. “Listen, I…I don’t even know what it’s like to have someone so concerned for me. My godfather spends most of his time drunk or off with some woman. So…I think where Chaozii is coming from is…something you shouldn’t take for granted. But you’re right, Kanda. No one should get to tell you what you do with your life. I think what Marie means is that you both need to find a middle ground. Chaozii can be concerned for you without making you feel bad about your life choices, and you can stand your ground without making him feel like you hate him.” 

Kanda looks at Allen. “I do hate him.” 

“No, you don’t,” Allen smiles. “If you hated him you wouldn’t waste your time arguing with him.” 

“Allen’s right. I’m sure if you spoke to him calmly about this instead of just blowing up the two of you could come to some compromise.” 

Kanda grunts, a sure sign that he’s displeased and doesn’t want to agree but does. 

Lenalee pokes her head into the room now, shyly tucking her hair behind her ear. “Kanda,” she starts. “You can’t do this tonight, you understand.” 

“Whatever.” 

“I’m serious. You can’t.” 

“Fine.”

“Now Allen, come get your crash course in eating like a regular human being.”

“Coming,” he assents, standing. He holds a hand out to Kanda. “Are you gonna stay here and sulk or join us?” 

Kanda rolls his eyes but grabs Allen’s hand anyway and lets himself be helped up. He moves from holding Kanda’s hand to linking their arms together. 

“It’s gonna be alright, I mean it,” Allen whispers as they walk into the dining room. 

Kanda glances over at him and sighs. “I know.

Chapter Text

The crash course goes about as well as he expected. 

“Okay, so…you don’t eat off the charger plate…what does it even do, then?” 

“Aesthetic,” Lavi wiggles his fingers in the shape of a rainbow. 

“Lavi’s right,” Daisya supplies, leaning heavily against the redhead. “Rich people love excessive shit.” 

“And…which one is the salad fork? They look the same.”

“The salad fork is smaller,” Lenalee tells him. 

“Why?”

She shrugs. 

“And there’s…three spoons…”

“Allen, just do what we do. You’re gonna be fine,” Lenalee tells him, consoling. 

He does not think he’s gonna be fine. 

But he is. The dinner starts promptly at 6:30, once all of the guests have arrived. It’s certainly a large number of people - Allen lost count after twenty five. 

The food on the plates is so small Allen could cry, but it is delicious and he was promised this was six courses.

He leans over to Daisya, who’s next to him working on a pork loin. “Do you think we could make a good enough excuse to go to McDonald’s after this? It’s like they’re trying to feed rabbits.” 

Daisya snickers, leaning back over to him. “Fuck yeah,” he whispers. “Gotta get that good good fudge sundae.” 

He likes Daisya.

He thankfully only trips up once, choosing the wrong goddamn knife for his fucking…what’s it called…focaccia. God he hates these people. They won’t stop talking about private jets and local politics and how the price of oil keeps rising. And they say that like it’s a good thing. 

Kanda raises an eyebrow at him when he starts to sip at his red wine and Allen has to hold back his response since they are in respectable company. Still, he holds up one finger to Kanda, who sighs and shakes his head. 

Rude. He isn’t that much of a lightweight. He can have one glass of wine. Probably.

After dinner, Allen is still hungry. He can’t believe how little food these people can live off of. He starts to think of a viable excuse to go grab junk food with Daisya when Marie walks up to him. He has two folders in his hands, which is strange enough to not bode well, and Allen’s eyebrows scrunch.

“You better not be giving me homework during winter break. On my birthday.”

“You could call it that…” Marie starts, smiling. When Allen groans, he goes on, holding the folders out. “Primo or Secondo?”

Allen starts to stutter. “M-Marie. I can’t play duets.”

“Sure you can. Just follow your sheet music.”

“I think it probably involves a little more than that,” Allen returns dryly, looking away. 

Marie shrugs. “Usually I play alone, but when I knew you would be here I thought we could play something together.”

“I don’t know…” Allen is more than fine playing songs he’s played before, and he’s even fine to a degree with playing a new song and sight reading, but...a duet? And sight reading? 

“Well, I believe in you,” Marie says. “But if you need motivation…” He pauses. “Kanda, come here.”

“No,” Allen whines. “Don’t do this to me.” He covers his face as Kanda walks up to them, clearly irritated and confused. “Kanda, say no. Just say no.”

“Tell him to play the duet with me.”

“Don’t make me play the duet, please. I’ll cry, do you want me to cry?” He looks up at Kanda, desperate. 

“You won’t cry, Allen,” Marie laughs.

“He’s a big fucking crybaby. He actually might,” Kanda smirks. He pokes Allen in the forehead. “What? You fucking scared of sucking?”

“Yes!”

Kanda raises an eyebrow at him. “I can’t believe Beansprout is scared to play a little piano.”

Allen lowers his voice to a hissing whisper. “You play it then, Kanda. Stupid! Stupid man! Ugh.”

“Clever.”

“What if I mess up?” Allen sighs. “There’s a lot of people here.”

“You won’t mess up,” Kanda returns, rolling his eyes. 

Allen looks at him with stars in his eyes and folds his hands together. “Say something nice to me again.”

“No. Play the damn song.”

Allen wants to drape himself over Kanda and be dramatic, but unfortunately has to stop himself since he’s supposed to be...well behaved or whatever. He groans softly and stares at the ceiling. “Fine. Fine, you win, Marie. That was dirty as hell, but you win.”

“Great. Primo or secondo?”

“Primo is the melody? Whatever the melody is.” This is his fate now. 

“Don’t be so scared, Allen. I can assure you, you’ve heard this song before,” Marie says, voice calm. It helps a little that he’s at least heard the song before. 

Lavi and Lenalee take this moment to stroll up, Daisya trailing behind. Lenalee has pulled her hair back into a low bun and leans heavily against Lavi. Her cheeks are a little flushed, likely the product of lots of wine. Godspeed, Lenalee, that you don’t do anything as stupid as he did. “Hey man, when are we going to Mickey D’s?” Daisya comes around and rests an arm on his shoulder. 

He smiles brightly at Kanda’s eldest brother. “Oh right. Sorry Marie. I have prior engagements.” Then he leans over to Daisya and whispers, “Save me.”

Daisya looks down at his hands and perks up. “Oh, you play the piano too? Fuckin rad!”

Allen feels sick. He knows what’s coming. “Oh no.”

“Yes, he was about to play a duet with me,” Marie nods.

“Oh, nice!” Lavi laughs, excited. “That’s gonna be awesome!”

Allen ignores Lavi. “I wasn’t, Daisya. Don’t let Marie lie to you. Take me to McDonald’s. I’ll buy you a happy meal.”

“Those are pretty good terms.” Daisya seems thoughtful. “Why don’t we just go after you play something? I wanna hear you!”

At this point, Allen has lost. He knows he lost. He’s even lost Daisya, who he thought he had a sacred bond with - formed over french fries and cheeseburgers. He sighs and drops his head in despair. 

“Fine, what’s the song?”

He flips open the folder and immediately shrieks.

“Something wrong?” Marie asks, but he’s smug. Bastard. Bastard man.

“What is this? This isn’t music! This is just...the entire staff is black! This is like one hundred and sixty beats per minute. Marie. Marie. This is...you just...scribbled on a piece of paper, right? This cannot be real.”

“Look closer, Allen.”

He doesn’t want to. He really doesn’t want to. 

He does. He squints his eyes, singing the melody in his mind, and unfortunately he hears the very song they’re supposed to be playing. 

“I can’t sight read this.”

“Of course you can.”

“Well...maybe! But...but!” He looks around to his so-called friends, who seem to be enjoying the exchange and Allen’s pain. Even Kanda seems intrigued. “You are all bastards. Every one of you. Fine. Fine, I’ll play your song. But I get first pick for the date and time of my senior recital. And you’re paying for my McDonald’s after this.”

“Whoa, high stakes,” Lavi mutters. “Be careful, Marie. This boy can put away some cheeseburgers.”

“Not a problem,” Marie smiles. “I’ll even sweeten the deal.” He leans in close to Allen. “Family photo album. Tiedoll loved it. Lots of pictures of Kanda as a child.”

Allen gasps, spinning to Kanda, who seems appalled at his brother. “You can’t fucking...put up my shit for your goddamn...whatever this is!”

“It isn’t your shit. I own the album.”

Kanda growls at him, clearly embarrassed. 

“Okay,” Allen nods slowly. “Then I accept. Just...give me a few minutes to make notations.”

“Of course. I’ll meet you in the entertainer’s room in ten minutes.”

“Ten?” Allen squeaks. 

He runs into the formal living room, making sure to grab a pen from the kitchen, and kneels next to the coffee table, quickly pulling the sheet music out of the folder and scattering it all around. He pulls the cap off with his teeth and lets his eyes graze over the notes. It seems to start okay, but that doesn’t last long. At what appears to be about a minute in everything picks up. He hears someone walk in, and he immediately barks, “Go away!” at them as he scribbles F Ab Cb(B) Ebb(D) next to a chord before furrowing his eyebrows and moving on. That’s...probably correct. It looks like a diminished seventh in F. 

Oh god they have to cross hands at some point, don’t they? What if he bumps into Marie? He hates duets. He hates this song. 

“Okay, that’s B flat major. That’s a...what is that? An inversion? Goddamn they really had to go and make Carol of the Bells so damn dramatic? And what’s with this? Why is there a...key change? Why does Carol of the Bells need a key change?!”

He scatters his papers around, furiously attempting to make as many notes as he can, until the paper is littered with them. He must look like a crazy person. He’s sure he’s screwed up all the work Lenalee did on his hair by continuously running his fingers through it in agitation. What sort of weird test is this? Does Marie hate him? Is this because Allen’s going to date his brother? Probably? Sort of? Whatever they’re going to do. 

His ten minutes are up before he feels they should be. He clears his throat, pulls on his suit jacket in an attempt to straighten any wrinkles, collects all of the music, and makes sure it’s in order before very calmly walking to the entertainer’s room. 

Inside, he is dying, and he puts on his very best mask, smiling cheerily and hoping he doesn’t start weeping in the middle of the song when his fingers fall off. 

There’s a large group of people in the entertainer’s room - he sees Lenalee, Lavi, Kanda, Daisya, and even Chaozii in the corner. Lavi gives him a thumbs up and Lenalee waves, but Kanda just nods at him. A silent confirmation that everything will be fine. They trust Allen. If they didn’t think he could do it, they wouldn’t subject him to ridicule. They don’t know anything about music, but still.

He sits at the piano bench next to Marie and starts to set up his sheet music. He can fit about three of the ten pages on there at a time so he grits his teeth and stacks them in such a way that he can fit all ten and pull each page away as he plays. Marie is playing from memorization, which is absolutely fucking insane, but he’s glad for the extra space. 

“You ready?” Maries asks, softly. 

Allen straightens his back and places his fingers on the keyboard. “As I’ll ever be.”

The song starts just fine. It’s just Allen on melody for a moment before Marie comes in behind him with an arpeggio and then he gets a small break for a second before he comes in again himself. He makes sure to keep the melody light, even though Marie’s part is heavier, a contrast between them, and soon enough the song resembles exactly what it should. He pulls the first sheet and throws it behind him, unsure of what else he could do with it. 

The tempo is still alright, right around 80 beats per minute, but he knows what’s coming. He squints as he reads, throwing another sheet behind him. Ah, there’s the key change. 

The tempo goes up in a horrific way. His hands hurt. This is awful. 

They cross hands as Marie hits a D4 to D5 octave. 

The song slows, grows dark for some stupid reason, but he’s doing it! He throws another sheet behind him. He’s really doing it! He’s sight reading this beast and - oh god, he didn’t notate this page. He must have missed it. Shit. Uh, probably, uh, fuck. Probably an augmented A flat. Shit, there goes the tempo again. Now it sounds like it’s out of a fucking video game. They aren’t in battle, this is just Carol of the Bells! 

They’re in the final stretch. Allen throws another piece of music behind him, quickly, before leaning back with the force of his next chord. Arpeggio, arpeggio, so many goddamn arpeggios. Okay, octave in left hand, simple melody in right. That’s it! That’s it!

Honestly the world could be ending around him and he wouldn’t know it as he throws the last piece of sheet music he needs to behind him, leaving just two pages left on the music rack. He could cry. It’s almost over. He’s done it. A few more chords and then he’s done. Some melody, that's all. Oh yeah, he’s got this. The song slows as it ends, finally, finally, and he leans back for a second, exhaling, remembering that he is in a room full of people. 

That matters very little to him. He shakes Marie’s shoulders in excitement, breathing heavily. “I did it! I fucking did it! Marie, Marie! Did you hear that! I did it!” Marie laughs, softly, as Allen’s bombarded by a group of people. Lenalee, Lavi, and Daisya are all piling on top of him, screaming compliments at him. He thinks Lenalee is crying - or maybe that’s Lavi? He bends under the weight of them, but he’s laughing. “I did it. Did you hear that?”

“We heard it!” Lenalee exclaims, rubbing her face against his. “Hey, you smell nice.”

“Thank you,” he returns offhandedly. “Am I alive? Is this real life?” He leans heavily against whoever is behind him and throws an arm over his eyes. 

“So dramatic,” Kanda grumbles from beside the group that tackled him. 

He looks over at Kanda, smiling brightly, and it seems to disarm the man for a second. “I did it!” 

“You did,” Kanda returns, looking away. “Scared for no reason, as always.” 

Allen laughs, and wraps his arms around the neck of whoever he’s leaning against. He gets a glimpse of red in his vision and knows it’s Lavi. “Al, you are the coolest person I’ve ever met.”

“Seriously!” Daisya exclaims. “I even recorded it! I’m uploading it to YouTube right now!”

“No you are not!” Allen cries, turning around and fumbling with Daisya as he tries to grab his phone out of his hands. 

“But it was so cool!!! You were just throwing that sheet music behind you like you didn’t give a shit. I swear in that moment I was swooning!” Daisya returns, laughing and holding his phone out of Allen’s reach. He keeps trying, though, reaching and reaching until he falls off the bench and right onto his face. 

“Ow,” he whines, getting on his hands and knees and rubbing his nose. “That hurt.” He reaches pathetically for Daisya. “Daisya don’t upload that!” 

“Too late!” Daisya teases, skipping around. 

He looks up at Kanda, eyes pleading. The man doesn’t look too concerned that Allen just fell flat on his face. “Kanda, I need you to do me a favor. I need you to break Daisya’s mobile.” 

Kanda shrugs, then snatches Daisya’s phone from him. “Hey!” Daisya whines and Kanda holds it out of his reach. “That was expensive, give it back!” 

Kanda takes a quick look at the screen. “It finished uploading, Beansprout.” 

Allen nearly wails, draping himself on the ground. “I promised myself I would never do it for the fame…” he laments dramatically. 

Kanda nudges him with the toe of his shoe. “Get up. People are looking at you, stupid.” 

Allen scrambles up, suddenly remembering the comment Lavi’s grandfather had made. Well, that certainly wasn’t a proper way to conduct himself. “Hey, Lavi, does your grandfather employ hitmen?” 

“Yeah, probably,” Lavi returns casually. At Allen’s horrific expression he laughs and says, “Kidding! Probably…”

Great.

Lavi manages to find a good enough excuse that he, Marie, Allen, and Daisya can slip out of the party long enough to stuff their faces at McDonald’s, and by the time he’s done eating he feels ready to forgive his very traitorous friends. 

When they get back to the mansion, everything is lit up. They sneak back in, rather easily, and Allen takes a moment to walk through the house to see the lights. They’re so pretty, he thinks. Maybe next year he can at least put some up in his bedroom. 

He finds Lenalee and Kanda in the kitchen, leaning against the window that overlooks the courtyard and talking - each of them have a glass of red wine, but Lenalee is looking a little far gone. Kanda’s back is to him, but he can’t imagine Kanda being drunk. 

When Lenalee sees him she gives an excited little yelp and waves him over. Kanda looks over his shoulder, impassive, but his eyes soften when he sees it’s Allen. “Hey, Lenalee,” Allen starts, laughing as she drapes her arms around his neck. “You gonna make it?”

She rests her head against his shoulder and sways to the soft music playing. “Allen, I missed you!” She pouts, and Allen puts his hands on her waist as she attempts to dance. 

“I’m sorry I left you,” he chuckles, aware of the answer to his question even if she didn’t answer it. 

“You smell good,” she says for the second time that night. 

“Thank you,” Allen smiles, resting his cheek against the top of her head and closing his eyes. They do some semblance of a swaying dance for a second, before she leans back to look at him. 

There’s a determined look in her eyes as her hands move to his shoulder. He’s careful to keep her upright, grip growing more secure on her waist, as she says, “I’m gonna tell Lavi how I feel.” 

Allen’s eyes fly open and he glances at Kanda, who doesn’t seem to have much of an opinion on the matter. 

He looks back at her. “You, uh, sure that’s a great idea right now? You’re…a little…tipsy.” What an understatement. 

“Yeah,” she nods furiously. “Yeah, it’s Christmas, it’s romantic. It’s the perfect day to tell someone how you feel.” 

He isn’t one to talk, but he still continues. “What about New Years? New Years is a good one, right?” At least then he can watch her alcohol content.

She looks thoughtful for a moment, and the expression she makes is extremely cute. She’s thinking very hard. “Yes,” she assents. “But Christmas is better.” 

He supposes he can’t really stop her, but he can’t imagine Lavi reacting incredibly well with her wasted. He cares about her, so he wouldn’t want to take advantage of her state by reciprocating. She might take that as a rejection, which makes Allen incredibly nervous.

“Oh, we could go on double dates!” She exclaims, hugging him again. He looks over at Kanda, smiling sheepishly, and the other man lets one side of his mouth lift in an almost grin. 

“That sounds very nice, Lenalee.” He decides to be honest with her, though. “Alright, let’s go sit down for a second.” He looks over at Kanda. “Keep watch for us, okay? Make sure Lavi can’t overhear us.” 

“What am I, a bouncer?” Kanda rolls his eyes, and Allen gives him a pointed look. “Fine, whatever,” he agrees quickly. 

He leads Lenalee into the formal living room, takes off his suit jacket to place it over her shoulders, then walks them outside. 

The air is extremely cold, but he doubts she even notices. He leads her to a bench and sits them down before taking a breath and leaning her against him. 

She just looks confused. “Why are we out here?”

“I wanted to talk to you alone for a second, is that okay?” He asks her the question softly, cautious. He doesn’t want her to feel cornered. She rubs her cheek against his shoulder in a nod. “Do you remember…Halloween?”

She’s quiet for a moment. “I do! Yeah, that was fun.”

“Do you remember all of those terribly embarrassing things I said?” 

She has to think on this one even harder. “You kept telling Kanda he was sexy, yeah.” 

“And you know what he thought about it all?” 

“Huh?”

“He didn’t think I was serious. He figured I was just drunk and lonely.” 

“Aw, I’m sorry Allen! But it worked out, right?”

“Of course it did, but only because we spoke about it again, at a later time when we were both sober. Do you see what I’m getting at?” 

She shakes her head, and he sighs a little. 

“Lenalee, I’m afraid if you tell Lavi how you feel tonight, he might just chalk it up to you being drunk.” She’s quiet for a long time, so he goes on. “You know what he’s like. Do you think he’d take advantage of you and agree to date you or kiss you?”

“No,” she says in a small voice. Her breath hitches. “No, Lavi isn’t like that.” 

“I think it’s great that you finally feel ready to communicate with him, but I don’t think tonight is the night. You may wake up tomorrow and be glad you can do it when you remember more, anyway.” 

He feels wetness on his shoulder and realizes she’s crying, so he wraps his arm around her tight and holds her to him. “I’m afraid no matter what he’s going to…reject me. I figured I could handle it better with some wine…” Her words are a little slurred, but it seems like her mind is still somewhat there. 

“You don’t know what he’s gonna say until you say it.”

“He has a girlfriend. It’s fairly serious, they’ve been together for two years.” 

“And she isn’t here tonight. Two years and they’re still casual. Lenalee, I can’t speak for Lavi but that tells me it might not be as serious as you think it is.” 

“It doesn’t feel…fair to burden him with my…my  feelings when he’s already in a relationship.” 

Allen looks out at the little alcove they’re in, with sprawling topiaries and beautiful lights. He rubs her shoulder as she silently cries against him, then kisses the top of her head in a gesture she and Lavi have given him many times. 

“He’s your friend. Do you really think you’ll burden him?”

She hiccups a little. “No…”

“Lavi is a good guy, even if he is an idiot. I think you should tell him when you’re sober, okay?”

“Okay,” she says sadly, wrapping arms around Allen’s waist and starting to slip down on the bench. He quickly moves his hands under her arms to lift her into a sitting position and not just melting into his lap. “New Years, then,” she sighs. 

“I will say,” he smiles. “It’s both a good thing and a bad thing to set a date. It’s good because it gives you time to prepare, but it’s bad because you’ll be so excited you’ll think every minute passes too slow.” He tickles her side, and she starts to violently giggle.

“Allen, Allen! Okay, I understand,” she laughs, wiggling. 

He gently positions her to sit up on her own. “Now let’s go inside.”

She kisses his cheek softly and grabs his hand before they stand. “Thank you…” She tells him, and he smiles at her as he leads her back into the house. 

When they return, Kanda is leaning moodily against the wall, arms crossed and eyes closed. He peeks one open when they close the door and scoffs. “She’s as stupid as you.”

Allen can’t help but laugh, depositing her on the couch and letting her sink into the cushions. “Well, it worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

Kanda makes a noise, seeming embarrassed, when a patron of the party enters the room. He’s tall and well put together, with long wavy hair and a glass of white wine in his hand. He wears a monocle, possibly to look more distinguished, and his suit is an all-black ensemble. When he lays eyes on Allen, who’s still on the couch with Lenalee, his eyes open wide and he quickly walks over to him. “I wanted to tell you, Allen - I thought your performance was wonderful!”

Allen doesn't know this person, and it feels weird that the man knows his name, but it’s a big party. It’s likely he heard it from someone. “Thank you,” he says slowly, smiling politely. 

“It was so expressive! So beautiful! There was so much passion!”

Honestly, he was just really freaked out; the only passion he had was not fucking up the song. “It was fairly difficult, but it was fun.”

Kanda kicks off the wall now, walking around the couch and standing next to Allen. Allen looks up at him and sees his features schooled into an angry expression, but the new guy does not seem affected in the least. “My name is Sheryl Kamelot,” he holds out a hand and Allen shakes it. The man seems harmless, if not a little eccentric. “I do hope you continue pursuing your music. I would love to hear more someday.”

Allen can’t help but feel flattered. He looks down at his hands, a little shy, and smiles. “Well, I plan to continue playing. I don’t know where it’s going to head, though.”

Sheryl perks up, looking excited, and reaches into his jacket. He hands Allen a business card. “If you ever need somewhere to play, I would happily be able to help you get a performance.” He points at himself. “I like to consider myself a patron of the arts.”

Allen’s eyes widen, looking over the card backwards and front. It’s all black, and the only text on the front is Sheryl’s name, a phone number, and on the back are the words The Noah Group.

Allen opens his mouth to ask a question when Kanda takes another step forward. He doesn’t say anything, but he looks defensive, almost ready for a fight. Concerned, Allen places a gentle hand on the small of his back, a silent plea to stand down. It works, somewhat - Kanda takes a step back and sits on the chair right next to the couch Lenalee and Allen are on. Lenalee is already dozing against Allen’s arm, breathing soft, and Allen takes the business card and puts it in his coat pocket still wrapped around her shoulders. 

“I appreciate the offer,” Allen says, smiling politely again. 

Sheryl grins, looking only at him. “You’re very welcome, Allen. Have a good night.” Without another word, the man turns around and walks back out of the formal living room, and Allen immediately turns on Kanda.

“What was that?” He asks, maybe a little harsher than he needs to.

Kanda doesn’t seem bothered, just staring at the doorway Sheryl left through. “That guy is bad fucking news,” he returns.

Allen opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. “What?”

Kanda is still staring at that damn opening. “I know it. I just fucking know it. He looks just like -” He stops himself. 

Allen is really confused now. He moves Lenalee so she’s leaning against the couch and moves to kneel next to the chair Kanda is sitting on. He places his hand on Kanda’s arm. “Hey,” Allen starts, and Kanda slowly tears his eyes away to look at Allen. He looks deeply unsettled. “What’s wrong?”

Kanda’s eyes are on his, and Allen cannot say what he sees in them. He looks...angry but worried? “Don’t call him.”

Allen blinks. “Who does he look like, Kanda?”

Kanda frowns deeply. “Just promise me, Beansprout.”

“Okay, okay, I promise. Can you please tell me why you’re being weird about this?”

“Just a feeling,” Kanda dismisses.

“You said he looked like someone.”

“He did, but that doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“And yet you’re telling me not to call him.”

Kanda sighs harshly. “Do you know what a fucking feeling is, Dumbass?”

Well, he guesses he can understand, but it’s still weird. Kanda isn’t telling him something, but he decides to drop it. “I won’t call him, alright?”

“Good.”

Lavi and Daisya walk in now, and Daisya plops down on the couch next to Lenalee, who startles awake. “Whoa,” Daisya laughs, poking her in the side and making her giggle and scoot away from him. “Someone’s plastered.”

Lavi sits on her other side, holding her up a little and laughing. “You okay there, Lena?”

She nuzzles into Lavi’s side, sinking into the couch. “Waaaarm.”

Lavi flushes, earning a wink from Daisya, and awkwardly pats her arm. “You want me to take you upstairs so you can sleep?”

“Sleep?” She pouts. “I’m not sleepy.”

“You are literally falling asleep right now,” Daisya offers. 

“Maybe,” she sighs. 

Lavi laughs at her, softly. “Okay, let’s go, you lush.”

She whines but lets Lavi pull her up and start to walk her off towards the foyer. Daisya turns to them once Lavi is gone, and Allen stands to sit on the arm of the chair Kanda is in. “So, what are your intentions with my daughter, Kanda?”

Kanda growls at him, but Allen can’t help but laugh. “Daughter? Do you mean me?”

“Obviously. None of my other children are in this room right now. Lenalee is my darling son, but she’s gone now.”

“You are one screwy motherfucker,” Kanda mumbles. 

“Hey, I’m just looking out for Allen’s virtue!”

“Fuck off!” Kanda snaps, and Allen reddens further, dropping his face in his hands, but he’s still grinning. 

“I think I can handle my virtue just fine,” Allen laughs once he pulls his hands away from his face. 

“Ooh,” Daisya says in a lilting tone. “She’s gonna get what she wants!”

“Stop talking.”

“Never!”

Allen lives close enough to NOCCA that he planned to walk, but Kanda pulls up in his car at eleven-fifty. They’d returned home after the party ended around ten, and Allen knew he wanted out of the suit. It was comfortable, but it was getting too cold for him and he knew he'd want to bundle up. So he gets in Kanda’s car, comfortable in a big sweater and jeans once more, and turns up the heat. “You didn’t have to pick me up,” Allen laughs. 

“It’s dark,” is all Kanda offers. 

He’s either worried Allen will get kidnapped, or lost, and getting lost is usually a pretty big possibility, but he thinks he could walk to his school with his eyes closed by now.

Still, Kanda drives them there, parking as close as he can to the auditorium. They’re both quiet, looking at the building, the heat on high and the music on low. Allen doesn’t know what to say. He’s nervous, but excited. 

“And you plan to break in?” Kanda asks, raising an eyebrow, surveying the building.

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “I made sure I could.” Kanda blinks at him, clearly surprised, and Allen opens his car door. “Come on.”

He reaches into his pocket as they walk towards the entrance to the auditorium, fishing out his lock picking kit and jogging to the doors.

“Keep an eye out, okay? No one is ever here this late, but still.”

Kanda does, looking around, and Allen leans down to get to work. The first time he had tried it had taken a lot of effort, but he gets it quicker now. When he hears the lock click, he stands to his height and opens it up. “Come on!”

“You actually fucking did it,” Kanda returns, impressed. 

 “Yeah,” Allen laughs. “Told you I could. Now follow me.”

He walks them through up a flight of steps on the right, to the second level, and pushes on the second floor entrance to the auditorium seating. Kanda steps in, looking around, but doesn’t say anything. It is a very big and impressive room, different from the one Allen had performed his audition in.

“Sit wherever you want. Preferably closer to the front. And give me a few minutes.”

Kanda looks confused, but listens and walks towards the front as Allen picks at the door to the sound room. He turns on the soundboard, playing with the levels until it’s where he wants it; it’s dark in the auditorium, too, so he slowly lifts the lights until they’re soft enough to not bother their eyes, but bright enough that they can still see each other. When he’s done, he shuts and locks the door behind him before jogging down towards the stage. He feels his heart hammering in his chest, but he knows it’s exhilaration more than anything else. He finds Kanda in the very front row and pokes his cheek with a laugh. “Listen good, okay?”

Kanda just nods, obviously at a loss for words, and Allen blows him a kiss before walking around the side of the stage and up the steps. He takes a deep breath as he walks up to the piano and opens the top of it before lifting the cover over the keys and pressing a key to listen to it. With a simple adjustment, he lowers his microphone to sitting height. 

He looks over at Kanda, clearly seeing where he sits in the front row, and smiles as he sits down at the bench.

“Eyes on me,” Allen smiles, and Kanda’s expression tells him he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. 

Chapter Text

He knows Kanda will immediately recognize the song - even if he didn’t like older music. It’s okay, he doesn’t need to be surprised by the lyrics or hear a new melody, Allen just hopes that when he sings it it will mean something more than hearing it on a record. That when he plays his rendition of it, says the words with his own voice, it belongs to them. 

He starts with the introduction, easy and recognizable, pretty and simple, and lets his fingers dance along the keys as he does so. 

Then he starts the first verse, leaned away from the microphone, letting his voice stay light and airy. He pointedly doesn’t look towards Kanda. He feels anxious, but not necessarily in a bad way - still, he doesn’t want to feel so distracted that he messes up.

“If I was a sculptor…but then again, no,” he goes on, voice gentle against the accompanying piano. “…or a man…who makes potions in a - traveling show.” He closes his eyes. “I know it’s not much, but it’s the best I can give…my gift is my song, and…this one’s for you.” 

He smiles a little to himself, feeling calmer as the song continues. 

“And you can tell everybody…this is your song.” He leans forward a little, getting closer to the mic, putting some weight behind his words. “It may be quite simple but…now that it’s done…” he flicks his eyes over to where Kanda sits, but quickly looks back before he can actually see his expression. He feels too open and raw, and he doesn’t want to get trapped in his gaze. “I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, that I wrote down in words…how wonderful life is…while you’re in the world.” 

He finishes the chorus, playing the piano a little faster, with more emotion behind it, his fingers pressing into each key with purpose, deft and quick. His eyes close again as he drifts into the second verse, and he feels his breath leave him, probably a little heavier than it should be. He feels…a lot, maybe too much, at this moment. He’s probably going to end up making good on Kanda’s comment about him being a crybaby by the end of this. 

“So excuse my forgetting, but these things I do…” he trails off, voice getting gentle again as he leads into his favorite part, altering the lyrics just enough so Kanda knows this song belongs to him. “You see I’ve forgotten if they’re gray, or they’re blue…anyway, the thing is, what I really mean…Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“And you can tell everybody! This is your song! It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done…” he opens his eyes again, soft, so soft, feeling them water, and leans away from the mic a little. “I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, that I wrote down in wo-rds…how wonderful life is…while you’re in my world.” He changes the lyrics just enough, again, desperately trying at what he was told, so long ago. He makes his wish, sings it, whispers it, and can only hope it gets granted. 

He finishes off the piece with slow notes that drift into silence, and when he’s done, tears pricking his eyes, he finds the courage to look over at where Kanda is sitting. 

He’s not there. 

Allen is stunned just long enough to not notice the sound of steps coming from behind him. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Kanda slides onto the bench and wraps his arms around Allen before bringing him into a deep kiss. 

Allen feels himself let go of the anxiety and apprehension. It melts out of him as if Kanda was thawing ice around his heart, pouring warmth into him. He kisses back, gripping Kanda just as tightly, desperate to give back some of that warmth, to follow up his words with actions. 

Kanda tilts his head, opens his mouth against Allen’s, and Allen follows suit. He runs on instinct, on repeating what Kanda does, feeling everything in him constrict and release. This feels different from their first kiss. Earlier was tentative, gentle, questioning, but now there’s a deep passion and desperation. His nails claw against Kanda’s back, and he pulls apart for a second to breathe against Kanda’s lips before diving in again. His hair is tied back in his usual ponytail, and Allen feels it brushing against his hands as they move; he feels everything - a thrumming in his chest that could belong to either of them, the press of Kanda’s fingers into his back before they slide down to his hips, their noses brushing as they move and learn and feel. 

They’re both panting when they separate, breath gusting out, from what could either be the lack of oxygen or overwhelming feelings. Kanda’s hands move to his face, his cheeks, moving his bangs back, running through his hair, and he leans forward to kiss Allen’s cheek. 

Allen can’t get a grip. Everything is welling up inside him, taking over his heart and lungs and mind. “Kanda,” he whispers, closing his eyes as he kisses those, too. “This feels like a stupid question, but…will you be with me? For real. Like a…relationship?”

“That is a stupid question,” Kanda returns, voice gentle. 

“Will you answer anyway?”

“Yes, I’ll be with you, Allen.” 

“Like a…a…uh…uhhh,” he fumbles, feeling awkward despite the tender moment.

Kanda smiles against his cheek. “You’re so embarrassing, Beansprout. Just say it.” 

“Boyfriend?” Allen squeaks, forcing the word out. Kanda kisses him as a response, less urgent than before, but a firm press of lips that feels like reassurance. 

“Yes, Stupid,” he says when he pulls away. “Like you even needed to fucking ask.” 

Allen can’t help the laugh that follows, feeling happy. He buries his face against Kanda’s chest, breathing him in, taking in the moment. “I haven’t felt this happy in a long time,” he smiles, hands playing with the ends of Kanda’s hair. 

“Sap.”

He pulls on a strand, and Kanda makes a small, startled noise. 

“You can’t be mean to me. You’re my boyfriend now.” 

Kanda pulls on a strand of Allen’s hair as well. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s clearly a challenge. “Always pushing your luck, Beansprout.” They kiss again, softer and sweeter, and Kanda is the first one to pull away. “Play something else,” he says, nodding his head towards the piano.

Allen grins, turning and putting his fingers to the keys. “So now I come to Yu, with open arms~” and he cuts in to lean towards Kanda and briefly whisper, “that’s Yu as in Y-U,” which makes Kanda roll his eyes. “Nothing to hide, believe when I say. So heeeere I am, with oooopen arms!” 

“Or, if you don’t like that one - “Allen starts, switching to something more upbeat. “So slide over here and give me a moment. Your moves are so raw, I've got to let you know, I've got to let you know…You're one of my kind!”

He sings loudly, possibly obnoxiously, but Kanda seems to be enjoying it. “And how’s the next part go?” He asks, grinning salaciously as if he doesn’t know.

“I need you tonight! 'Cause I'm not sleepin'…There's somethin' about you, boy, that makes me sweat!”

“Oh, right,” Kanda goes, brushing Allen’s hair back and kissing along the shell of his ear. “What else can you play?” 

Allen shivers, swallowing, and shifts the song again, bringing his voice as high as he can as he plays. “Oh, I wanna dance with somebody! I wanna feel the heat with somebody! Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody! With somebody who loves me!” 

“Uh huh,” Kanda nods against his cheek, moving his hand slowly under the back of Allen’s shirt, fingers softly grazing his spine. 

“Oh god,” Allen groans.

“Keep going, Beansprout.”

He clears his throat, trying not to make any embarrassing noises when Kanda rakes nails down his back. He can feel the warmth of Kanda’s breath on his face, but tries to continue on. 

“Cause I’ve…had…the time of my life! I’ve never felt this way before…yes I swear, it’s the truth! And I owe it all to Yu!” He pauses, breathy. “That meaning-“

“I know what it fucking means,” Kanda laughs. He moves his hand up and down, nails scraping, and Allen doesn’t know how such a simple act has his mind spinning. “How much longer can you keep this up, huh?” 

“Depends,” Allen softly moans, tipping his head up. But he starts to play again, not looking at the keyboard and not caring. “I can’t fight this feeling anymore…” he gasps as Kanda’s hand moves to the small of his back and pushes flat against his skin. He feels warm, feverish. “I’ve forgotten what I started fighting for-“his voice breaks a little as He feels Kanda’s fingers playing with the waistband of his jeans. “And if I have to crawl upon the floor - c-come crashing through your…door, jesus fuckin…blimey,” he sighs, feeling Kanda’s fingers start to slip lower. “Baby, I can’t..f-f-fight this feeling any…more!” 

“Tapping out already?” Kanda asks, tone mocking, fingers grazing the band of his underwear. 

“Don’t you dare…defile this beautiful instrument,” Allen croaks. 

“Would I? Or would you?”

“Motherfucker,” Allen snarls before climbing into Kanda’s lap and kissing him fiercely. Kanda, in turn, takes the opportunity and cups his hand underneath Allen’s ass to drag him closer. 

And there goes the embarrassing noise. So, so, so embarrassing. 

Allen can hear his voice echo in the auditorium, and something about it riles him up further. “Home,” he mumbles against Kanda’s mouth. “Let’s go home, please.”

Kanda literally lifts him from the bench, making Allen squeak in surprise, and sets him down on the piano keys. A loud, dissonant sound rises from the instrument. “Kanda!” He gasps, hands scrambling against Kanda’s chest. “Come on…not the…piano!”

Kanda growls at him. “I’ll let you go when I hear your screams bouncing off these walls.”

The noise Allen makes is a noise he didn’t even know he could make. God, that’s hot. Fucking hell. “Shit, shit,” he moans, feeling Kanda’s hands run up the front of his shirt. “Wait, hold on. If this piano is damaged they’ll have to review the footage. I’m serious.”

This seems to be enough of a motivation for Kanda to back off, but as soon as Allen’s feet hit the ground he’s wrapped up in another searing kiss. 

“Home,” Allen gasps. “Please.”

This stops Kanda, who leans back and looks at Allen so fiercely, so openly aroused, that Allen feels himself get even more worked up. It’s like a promise he’s making that Allen is positive he’ll keep.

“Just…just a second,” Allen heaves, setting everything the way he found it. He almost skips the sound room, but forces himself to go turn off the lights and sound board. 

Then it’s just a very quick, very desperate walk to the car. Allen starts jogging at one point, and he dives into Kanda’s passenger seat so quickly he almost hits his head on the doorframe. As soon as Kanda’s joined him they meet in the middle, kissing furiously, Kanda’s tongue flicking against his. Then, apparently more motivated to get to his house than continue kissing, he drives out of the parking lot, definitely faster than he really should. 

But it’s okay, because that just means that they make it to Kanda’s house faster, too. He would normally laugh at the way Kanda fumbles his keys to get the door unlocked, but he doesn’t have it in him. When they’re finally inside Kanda roughly shoves him against the wall and goes after his neck. 

Allen tilts his head to the side to give Kanda better access, feeling his hips twitch and jerk violently, involuntarily. He moans deeply when Kanda presses their bodies together, and he’s so desperate that he starts to rut against him, their jeans rubbing and creating delicious friction. 

It’s nowhere near enough. He pushes his hands under Kanda’s jacket to let it fall to the floor, and Kanda returns by pulling Allen’s sweater clear over his head. Fingers roam down his torso, driving him to move even harder and faster against Kanda, and he moans, feeling wild, feeling a need he’s never known, knowing there’s no way in his right mind he’d ever want to stop or slow down.

Kanda has a bit more self awareness, though. He pulls away, grabs Allen’s hand, and drags him up the stairs, and as Allen walks in his room he hisses, “yes, yes.” In turn, Kanda picks him up and tosses him on the bed, in, quite honestly, the most arousing manner he’s ever experienced. 

Kanda follows soon after, crawling on top of Allen and grabbing the back of his head to draw them together in another kiss. 

Allen has absolutely no idea what to do with himself. He writhes and writhes, tugging at Kanda’s shirt, wanting it off, off, wanting to feel skin on skin, and when Kanda leans back to strip, Allen loses his mind. 

He runs his hands along Kanda’s chest, fingers following the curve of a black tattoo, and then down, over his ribs and abs and stomach. “You’re beautiful,” Allen somehow manages to say past his muddled thoughts. 

Kanda snarls, but not out of anger. He sounds like a beast ready to descend upon a feast it's been craving; Kanda’s large, warm hands move up Allen’s sides and stop at his chest, nails scraping against his already hard nipples. He gasps, unprepared for the sensation. “Kanda,” he whispers on the back end of a moan. 

“Louder,” Kanda commands, and he lowers his mouth to suck red hickies against his collarbone, fingers still working on his nipples. 

Allen happily obliges. A keening sound comes from the back of his throat, loud and high, and he arches his hips up towards Kanda for some sense of friction. Kanda puts a hand to his hips to pin him down, though, pulling another moan from him.

“Allen,” Kanda growls at his skin. “I know what you fucking thought, that you’d be able to have your pretty little way with me, but what you didn’t fucking know,” Kanda breathes, kissing up the side of Allen’s throat. “Is that I’ve been wanting to pin you down and make you cry for months.” 

Allen cries out, hands scrambling for purchase against Kanda’s bare skin. He feels his nails drag down Kanda’s biceps, and the other man hisses in what could be pain or pleasure. Maybe both. 

“Kanda,” he whimpers, aware that he’s being reduced to an absolute mess. “Kanda.”

“What is it?” Kanda pinches down spectacularly rough against his already raw nipples, making him cry out. “Is there something you want?”

Allen is far, far too gone to even feel embarrassed anymore. “I wanna feel your mouth, your tongue, your breath! Ah! Your - fuck! - your lips are so warm. Please.” 

Kanda’s hands wander down his body, and with it Kanda slowly kisses a line down his chest before stopping to softly lick at an aching nipple. His mouth is searing hot, his tongue gentle and maddening, and this is what it’s like to go insane. Allen can't focus on anything but his body right now - he obsesses over Kanda’s fingers gripping bruises into his hips, the soft nibble against his chest, how fucking hard he feels in his jeans. 

He thinks if it was possible to cum like this, just from his nipples, he would. It feels like pure fire and electricity, and thinks if Kanda doesn’t touch his cock right now he’ll die. 

“Jeans,” Allen croaks, voice breaking. 

Kanda seems to understand, detaching for a moment in order to unbutton Allen’s jeans and pulling them down with his underwear in one go. 

Allen doesn’t even feel embarrassed or self-conscious. He makes a poor attempt at trying to unbutton Kanda’s jeans as well, his vision blurry with how dizzy he feels. “You, too,” he moans. Kanda takes pity on him, undoing the button and zipper and shimmying out of his jeans before tossing them aside.

Allen, somehow, gets even harder once he sees Kanda’s body on display. He wants to touch him, feel him, put his mouth on him, do anything and everything he can to just be completely overtaken, to have as much of his boyfriend as he can. 

He doesn’t know what he wants more - to touch or to be touched.

Kanda gives him no time to consider it. He moves back down on Allen, kissing his stomach, his hip bones, lower and lower, then lifts one of Allen’s legs and kisses and nibbles the soft skin on the inside of his thigh. Allen squirms, twitching, the skin so sensitive it’s almost uncomfortable. Kanda moves up and down, kissing his knee and his calf, back up his thighs, and when he looks up at him, Allen groans. He can’t take this, seeing Kanda’s gorgeous face so close to his cock, so he grabs onto the other man and pulls him up, kissing him harshly. 

“I want this out…” he heaves, yanking on Kanda’s hair tie.

“You really have some fucked up fetish for my hair, don’t you?” Kanda smirks. “Do I have your permission to suck your cock now, Princess?” 

Allen is so sure, so, so sure, that he’s going to cum the moment Kanda touches his dick. “Please,” Allen cries, sobbing almost. “Please.” 

“Always so fucking polite,” Kanda grits out, getting a handful of Allen’s hair and yanking hard. Allen gasps, hips jerking. God, that’s good. “Tell me what you fucking want. I wanna hear those filthy words from that pretty goddamn mouth.”

In this moment, he belongs to Kanda. He has no room for shame, or hesitance, or concern. Kanda gives him an order, and Allen dutifully listens. “Please,” he starts, and he knows how much this sounds like a beg and does not care. “Suck my cock. Do it. I wanna cum in your mouth.” 

“You’re mine, all of you.” Kanda growls against his skin, and Allen feels himself building and building, getting closer and closer. 

“Yes,” Allen exhales. “I’m yours.”

“That’s fucking right,” Kanda growls, grabbing Allen’s hips to pin him down, and then lowering his mouth down on Allen’s cock. 

Allen’s immediate response is to cry out the lewdest sound he’s ever made. Something about being held down, being adored, heightens everything even further. It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever felt, arousal coiling so tight in his abdomen that it hurts, and his hands fly to the back of Kanda’s hair to grip at the strands. He has no idea what a blow job is supposed to feel like, but there's no way they're always this good. 

His fingers grip Kanda’s hair tighter, making the other man moan around his cock, and the vibration is nearly too much to take. He never wants it to end, but at the same time wants to cum so badly he’s ready to start begging again. 

And he does. He pulls out a dirty trick without even really meaning to, just knowing it feels right. “Yu,” he sobs, clinging onto the hair in his hands. “Yu, please. Please.” 

In a direct refusal, Kanda’s mouth pops off of Allen’s dick and he bites hard on the inside of his thigh. At this point it’s almost torture, but he swears he could drown in it. 

“What did I tell you about being polite?” He grabs the base of Allen’s cock. “If you want to cum, tell me you want to cum.” 

Full on tears are running down his cheeks now as Kanda grips the base of him tight and patiently waits. Allen doesn’t even fucking care anymore. “I want to fuck your mouth,” he pleads. “I wanna cum inside of you. I want to feel you, all of you, everywhere, all over me.” 

“Then fuck me,” Kanda says, voice husky, taking him in his mouth again. Allen grips at his hair, pulling it taught, and arches into Kanda’s mouth, positive this is going to be the end of him. He can truly never go back to not having this - he feels so good, so safe and so comfortable, not a single care in the world. 

Allen’s breath picks up faster as the pleasure builds, a loud moan carrying on each exhale. It’s too much, too much, and still not enough. His hands flatten against back of Kanda’s head, fingers clawing into his scalp, and he arches up again, feeling the tightness of Kanda’s throat when he reaches, shoving him flush against his pelvis as he cries out, voice hoarse and raw and possibly hedging towards a scream. He cries out absolutely meaningless words, babbling, a cacophony of “yes” and “please” and “fuck me” over and over again.

Kanda moans again, exhaling deeply through his nose, and Allen gives three sharp thrusts, feeling the tip of his cock reach Kanda’s throat once more, and then he’s really screaming. “Fuck, fuck, please Yu, please! I’m cumming! Fuck me, I’m close, I’m-!” 

He feels Kanda swallow around him and then his orgasm hits, blinding white heat making his back arch as tears roll down his cheeks; he whines and whimpers as he comes down from it, feeling sensitive as Kanda slowly comes up for air, dark eyes lidded and strands of hair sticking to his face from sweat and bits of cum that leaked out of his mouth as he pulled off. 

Allen pants, slowly gaining control over his thoughts, and even though exhaustion has settled deep in his bones, he immediately sits up to reach for Kanda. 

“I-I’m so fucking sorry, oh my god. Kanda. I…I don’t…!”

Kanda’s lips are bright red and swollen, covered in cum and slightly parted. He swallowed everything he could, and Allen has to get a grip on himself before he gets stupid with desire again. “Are you okay?” 

Kanda bites down hard on Allen’s hip. “You are incredibly fucking hot,” he murmurs against Allen sweat-damp skin. “What’s my fucking name?” 

“Kanda,” Allen whines, reaching for him. 

“No, what’s my goddamn name, Allen.” 

He still can’t really catch his breath. “Yu,” he manages. “Yu, Yu,” he repeats it like a mantra, bringing his boyfriend up to hold him for a moment, to just feel the comfort of the warm, solid weight against his body. “Yu, I like you so much. You’re so good to me.” 

Kanda kisses his jaw, and Allen can clearly feel how hard he is, but he makes no moves to keep going. He lets himself rest on Allen for a bit, just breathing, kissing where he can reach. “You’re fucking amazing,” he whispers. “Say my name again.”

“Yu…”

“It sounds so fucking good coming from your mouth. When you fucking scream and beg and act as filthy as you fucking want - I just want to tear you apart.”

Allen moans, softly. He turns his head to Kanda. “Let me touch you. Please.” 

Kanda makes absolutely no complaints. He shifts to the side of Allen, accepting kisses against his skin as he’s rolled onto his back.

He takes every dream he’s had, every fantasy powered by his imagination and porn, and decides it’s time to put it into action. He’s been wanting this for far, far too long to let his nervousness get in the way. 

Allen wants to take his time, to slowly work Kanda up the way he’d been, but he can see in Kanda’s eyes that he wants nothing even close to foreplay. He runs his hand down Kanda’s stomach, reaching all the way down to his cock, and his fingers tentatively run over the head and down the side. 

Kanda grits his teeth, tipping his head back and fingers twisting in the sheets.

“You’re so wet,” Allen breathes, kissing Kanda’s cheek, his jaw, his neck, as he continues gentle, teasing ministrations. Kanda doesn’t seem especially upset about this treatment, so Allen continues, running a single finger down the length of him, letting his nail softly graze his dick before gently cupping his balls and moving back up. “Would you scream for me, too?” 

“I’m not a bitch like you.”

“Oh?” Allen grips his cock suddenly, giving him a few quick strokes, and Kanda gives a soft groan and closes his eyes. “You said earlier that you weren’t going to let me have my way with you, but it doesn't work like that, Yu.” As much as he imagined Kanda over him, he’d imagined himself over Kanda, the way he’d draw pleasure from him until it broke him down. “I’m going to take what I want. And I want everything.”

The very concept turns him on nearly as much as it seems to for Kanda; his boyfriend arches his back, holding onto the sheets, and he makes a tiny sound as Allen jerks him off. “You were acting tough when you were sucking me off, but you know what I think?” He runs his hand down further, rubbing the pad of his finger against the rim of Kanda’s entrance. It makes the other man flinch so hard his whole body shakes with it. Allen leans in closer to whisper the words hotly against his ear. “I think this is what you really want.” At least he fucking hopes so. “You want me to take you. Have you. Use you.” 

Kanda makes a sound like he’s in pain, a quick sharp inhale, but Allen knows better. He presses his finger more firmly, and then brings it back to his cock. He wraps his hand around it and spreads his precum, using it to help him stroke Kanda firmly. “Hurry the fuck up and…make me cum, Bitch,” Kanda snarls, but the sound is so weak, so broken. 

“Well, that just makes me want to make you wait. What if I just shove my fingers inside of you until you cum? Better than nothing, right?” 

Kanda doesn’t seem to know how to respond. He’s fighting a war inside himself, Allen can see it. 

“Tell you what,” Allen says, sitting back but still moving his hand against Kanda. “If you use your words for once, I’ll do anything you want.” He leans forward, grinning as he pauses his strokes. “Anything at all.” 

Kanda grits his teeth, eyes wavering. He starts to open his mouth, and Allen notices his lips trembling, too. He twists his hand, making Kanda tip his head back and exhale. 

Slowly, Kanda lowers his face again and opens his eyes before grabbing Allen by the back of the neck and pulling him close. Their lips nearly touching, Kanda says, “If you don’t fuck me right the fuck now I will fucking kill you.” 

Allen will happily oblige. Except. 

Well, it won't be very comfortable unless the correct tools are available. He really didn’t think this part through. “How should I do that without hurting you?” Allen asks gently, nuzzling against Kanda’s face, a moment of tenderness. He stops his movement on Kanda’s cock for a moment, rubbing his hand up his body. 

“You won’t hurt me,” Kanda returns, voice incredibly soft. He says it like he means it. He nods towards the drawer on his bedside table, and Allen reaches for it, easily finding exactly what he wanted. 

“Wow, Kanda. And kept so close, too.” 

“It’s the twenty-fifth,” he returns, and then grabs Allen’s hair and pulls it hard. “Put your goddamn fingers in me.” 

Allen feels like he’s going to get hard again in record time. 

“You’re ravishing,” he whispers, softly putting his hand on Kanda’s collarbone and then letting his fingers slowly press against the sides of his throat. “You trust me?” 

“Yes.”

It’s said so simply, with no room for doubt or hesitation, and Allen’s breath catches; what a beautiful feeling. Once more, he moves down his boyfriend’s body and uses his left hand to jerk Kanda off. Kanda growls as Allen spreads his knees apart, flipping off the lid of the lubricant and releasing Kanda’s cock to pour it onto his finger. It’s incredibly cold and sticky, so he rubs it between his fingers and hands, letting his left palm get slicker as well. 

He returns attention to Kanda’s cock, slowly teasing as he rubs his finger once more against his entrance. “Is there something you want to ask for?” He asks, mocking his boyfriend. 

Kanda doesn’t seem to have much resolve anymore, guard completely dropped, his face contorted in pleasure. He looks absolutely stunning, more gorgeous than Allen has ever seen him - his dark, dark hair splayed against the pillows, lips red and wet, eyebrows drawn together. He wants to remember this, forever.

“Fuck me,” Kanda breathes, not even bothering to put up a front. 

Allen decides to be nice. He slowly pushes his ring finger inside, to the second knuckle, and Kanda makes a soft, needy sound. Allen draws in and out slowly, even once he feels Kanda’s completely relaxed, and when he looks over at that beautiful face he sees his dark eyes screwed shut as he heaves breath. 

Allen doesn’t want him to cum too soon, so he removes his left hand, which prompts Kanda to peer open one eye and frown, and pushes a second finger into his ass. 

He doesn’t waste much time, not that he needs to; Kanda clearly knows how to relax his body and his body clearly knows how to open up. He runs his left hand along the inside of Kanda’s thigh. “Do you touch yourself here?” Allen asks, punctuating his question with a rough push in. 

Kanda’s body lurches, his mouth opening in a silent gasp. “What do you…think?”

“I think you thought about me fucking you, just like I thought about you fucking me. I dreamed about this, over and over again. Every time I touched myself I thought of you just like this, desperate, needing me.” Allen pushes a third finger in, angling his hand for better reach. Kanda takes it easily, which speaks volumes. “I thought about how desperate I was for you. How much I liked you, how much I wanted to be yours in body and heart.” He pushes up and in, pressing just behind Kanda’s cock, and the man releases a broken moan. “Oh, so that's how I'll get to hear you? Good. I wonder if you sound the same in reality as you do in my dreams.” 

He continues to move in the same way, angling his fingers up to push against his prostate over and over, and he revels in the way Kanda’s hips tremble. His body speaks what his mouth won't.

But Allen has a lot to say. Kanda wants him to talk filthy? He can talk filthy.

“You were loud, in my dreams. You let me hear you. Then again, most of the time you were riding my cock when I made you cry.” 

Kanda’s hands fly to the sheets again, and he pulls a corner to put between his teeth. “No, Yu,” Allen chides, making sure to keep fucking Kanda with his fingers as he pulls the sheet away. “How am I going to hear you if you’re muffling yourself?”

His boyfriend doesn't reach for the sheets a second time. “God, Allen, harder. I won’t break.” Kanda’s voice is low, gravely. 

Allen leans down and kisses his chest, fingers alternating between rolling and tapping, which serves to make Kanda sound like he’s dying. “No. You’ll be happy with what I give you, won’t you?” 

“Fuck…no!”

“Well then…” Allen removes his fingers and intends to say something else snarky when Kanda grabs at his arm.

“Fine. I - Fuck me. However you want, just fuck me.” 

Allen’s half hard again, salivating, panting, and his joints are starting to cramp. It would be easier if he could just…

“You want my cock in you?” 

Kanda tips his head back, bearing his throat. “Yes. Hell yes.” 

“How bad?”

He gets a growl for that, but Kanda doesn't sound irritated, just desperate. “I need your fucking cock, Allen. Fucking give it to me.”

“Then…you’ll probably have to suck me off to get me all the way there again.”

He’s never witnessed Kanda move so quickly; there’s zero hesitation as his boyfriend takes him into his mouth once more, working his dick with a single track mind. He runs his fingers through Kanda’s hair, wincing at how good, how perfect it feels. 

“Pretty Boy,” he coos, and Kanda opens his eyes to look up at Allen. He looks like sin itself, hair everywhere, lips stretched around his cock, eyes lidded and dark. “So…so goddamn pretty. Even prettier like this.”

He’s definitely fully hard again, and Kanda must think it’s good enough, because he sucks harshly one last time before pulling off and throwing one leg over Allen’s lap to hover above his cock. “Is this what you fucking imagined, you goddamn pervert?” Without even a single second thought, Kanda reaches behind himself to hold Allen’s dick steady and slowly sink down onto it.

Is this what he imagined? No. No, it isn’t, because it’s so much better. Kanda is so tight, his insides hot and slick from lubricant, and Allen thinks this is how he dies, how it all ends, watching Kanda roll his hips as his dark eyes blaze with pleasure and  soft sounds slip from between his lips. 

“And how about my cock inside you - is it…is it like you imagined?”

Kanda sighs in pleasure, baring his throat, and Allen eagerly accepts the invitation to lick and nip at his neck. “Fuck yes,” he returns, and Allen can tell he’s holding back. It's quite the shame. He should fix that. 

He grips Kanda's hips forcefully to help the push and pull, feeling his cock reach further and further in with each downward thrust. “Is this what you wanted? Me fucking you nice and deep?” 

“Fuck, fuck…yes…”

“I like it when you’re honest. Let me hear you, Darling.” 

He snaps his hips up roughly to contrast his saccharine tone, sure it should hurt Kanda, but it seems to do the opposite - the other man sucks in a heavy breath, body clenching tight as he tenses. 

And his boyfriend moans, finally, finally. A sweet sound, needy and pleading. He’s desperate to hear it again, so he continues his rough, punishing thrusts, slamming his hips against Kanda’s, uncaring if his legs or arms or hips get tired. It’s almost too fucking good - he’s positive if he hadn’t already cum he wouldn’t have lasted as long as he has. 

Kanda’s cock is rock hard between them, soaking wet with precum, and Allen could finish him off, but he wants to wait until he’s close. 

He pushes Kanda backwards to make him fall onto the bed, keeping inside of him as he does, and uses the new angle to wrangle all of his strength and fuck Kanda as hard as he can. 

“More,” Allen whispers, pinning Kanda down with one hand. “I want to hear you more. You sound so fucking good.” 

He shoves his cock in particularly hard, chasing pleasure, and Kanda rewards him with another moan. His voice is getting less and less restrained as his pleasure builds, tongue loosening around his need. “I want to…fucking cum already.” 

“Oh, Darling…it isn't time for that yet,” Allen returns, shaking his head, and his boyfriend lets out a steady groan. He thinks a lesser man might have whimpered. “You’re going to hold on just a bit longer for me, aren't you? 

Kanda’s legs wrap around him, pulling him closer, and Allen’s hips snap forward harshly, creating a rhythm that’ll certainly lead to sore muscles later. He couldn't care any less. He puts his hands under Kanda’s thighs, keeping them spread as he nails him, watching his boyfriend’s gorgeous features drenched in pleasure until he finally feels that build up. He falls forward, bracing his hands on either side of Kanda, and when they lock eyes Allen knows he doesn’t have much longer. 

“Scream for me, Yu,” Allen moans, and he leans back up to wrap the fingers of his left hand around Kanda’s cock.

He doesn’t scream, but the moan he releases immediately makes Allen cum. He jerks Kanda off quickly, knowing he only has a few more seconds he can keep fucking him, and takes advantage of those final moments to ram into Kanda hard enough to make his body lurch - he can feel his cum leaking around him, and it makes Allen wish they could go another round, but there's absolutely no way that's happening. Right now, at least. 

Allen twists his hand around Kanda’s cock, desperate to drive him to his own orgasm; the reward is dizzying - Kanda’s entire body arches up as his lips part and he cums hard in Allen’s grip.

Slowly, Allen stops fucking him, but he continues to jerk Kanda off until he stops shaking. 

Together, they fall to the bed heaving. Allen would never, ever repeat the things he said outside of this bedroom, but doesn’t feel embarrassed. He just feels sleepy and content. “Holy shit,” he breathes, laughing. “That was…” he looks over at Kanda, whose hair spills over his shoulder as he pants. “Is it…always like that?”

Kanda takes a second, shifting his body, but shakes his head. “Fuck no,” he supplies. “Definitely not.”

Allen flushes, happy. “Oh. Did I mention that that was amazing yet?” 

“It bears saying either way,” Kanda says offhandedly, pushing himself up on his arms and grimacing. “I’ve gotta take a fucking shower. We’re filthy.” 

Allen also needs a shower, he’s sweaty as all hell, and quickly drying cum is all over the front of his body, but he wants a nap. He feels like he’s sinking into the mattress, eyes dipping clothes. 

Kanda is gone long enough that he’s shaking Allen awake when he returns. “Get your nasty ass out of my bed and go shower.” 

Kanda is in nothing but boxers, and it’s a pleasant sight. “How are you so fit? I don’t understand,” Allen asks, sitting up. His legs are so sore, aching mostly in the thighs. “Every time I look at you I’m just amazed I could ever look away.” 

Kanda seems stunned for a second before he draws Allen into a kiss and yanks him off the bed. “Bathroom is down the hall on the left.” 

“Ugh, fine,” Allen groans, somehow managing to find enough strength and energy to start moving. As he walks towards the bathroom, he thinks about how far they’ve come, and that he’s glad he stopped fighting. 

Chapter Text

His feet crunch against the snow as he walks, hand in hand with Mana on one side and Neah on the other. From time to time they’ll lift him up and swing him, making him shriek with laughter; Allen knows they’re on their way to the church for Sunday Mass, but he would much rather play in the snow. He makes this known, and Neah tuts at him gently. 

“Now, Allen, the snow will still be here after the Mass. Don’t you want to sit at the piano with me and sing the hymns?” 

He pouts, pulling Mana’s hand. “It’s my birthday, though! I don’t care about the vigil.” He sticks out his bottom lip and puts on his best puppy eyes. 

Mana smiles down at him, squeezing Allen’s hand. “As cute as you are, Allen, we have to attend Mass. Neah has an obligation.”

“Yeah,” his uncle laughs, tugging at his arm. “How else could we afford to feed you, you little bugger!”

Allen giggles. “Okay, fine, I guess. But afterwards I want to go play at the park!” 

“Of course,” Mana nods, still smiling gently.

The church they go to isn’t far at all from their house, a small white building well suited to the small population of their town and congregation. Weathered, stone steps lead up to heavy wooden doors, and Allen is at least grateful that it’s warm. To his right are lit candles with a small spot to genuflect and show respect, and not far from it is a fountain attached to the wall, filled with holy water. Mana dips a finger in, as always, and kneels down in front of Allen to draw a cross on his forehead. 

“This will protect you,” Mana smiles, running a hand down Allen’s hair. 

Allen knows that. His life was terrible before, but it’s good now, and that must be the work of God. He always says he’s grateful for the protection when he accepts the Eucharist - Mana and Neah still won’t let him sip the wine, even though he’s already seven, but that’s okay, he guesses. 

Mana sits in the second row, closest to the choir, as Neah settles onto the piano bench and starts to situate his sheet music. While he warms up, Allen sits next to Mana and kicks his feet, already bored. He picks up a hymnal and flips through it, eyes following the words and notes, picking out the ones his uncle’s taught him and humming along. 

More people start to file in now, disrupting the silent sanctity of the chapel, and Allen jumps off the pew to run over to Neah. He tugs on the tails of his uncle’s coat. “Scoot over!”

Neah laughs, but moves, making room for Allen to sit. The sheet music in front of him is more complicated than Allen’s used to, but he does recognize one part - he’s fairly sure it’s a major chord. 

As the Mass begins, he watches Neah’s fingers effortlessly, gracefully dance along the keys. He thinks it’s beautiful, the movements he makes and the sounds they create. He wishes he could learn like Neah. 

When the choir sings, Allen is allowed to sing, too. They said last time that they liked his voice and that it was pretty, which made him happy. He likes to sing. 

As the Mass continues, Allen gets a little sleepy, and he leans against Neah’s arm. His uncle isn’t playing right now because the Father is reading his homily, and Neah gives him a kiss on the top of his head. He feels so comfy. He loves Neah. 

He dozes off for a second but is startled awake when Neah moves and begins to play again. Maybe he won’t go to the park after this. Maybe he should go home and nap? But then he’s missing out on his birthday, and —————-;:-!:&/)/‘!3?/):

“Allen, a song is like a wish.” 

———-(37:?2&.)2

“Remember, Allen, the melody goes like this.” 

——?2$282?2&

“The next words go: I will never stop this prayer leaving my lips. Someone please show this child what love is. Take those tiny hands and give a kiss!” 

-?27:!/82!?-(27:?27

“Mana, take Allen and go!” 

.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Everywhere blood. So much blood. Where does it come from? Why is Neah bleeding so much? Why won’t he get up? Allen cries and cries, hitting his father’s back as they run away. “Wait. We can’t leave Uncle Neah! Please!” He reaches towards his uncle. “Please, Uncle Neah! Come with us!!” 

He wakes with a start, shooting up in bed, heaving, choking on sobs, and digs his nails into his palms to try to calm the panic. 

Neah, Neah, Neah. Uncle Neah.

Allen gasps, and Kanda is already awake, reaching for him and pulling him close. “Just a dream,” Kanda murmurs, voice rough from sleep. “It’s okay. You’re with me.” 

“I saw him. I saw him.”

“Who?” Kanda pets his hair, voice soothing, and it calms Allen just enough to form coherent thoughts. 

“I saw Neah. I know who he is.” 

Kanda is quiet for a while, it feels like. He kisses Allen’s forehead, then whispers. “Who is he?” 

“He’s…” Allen’s voice shakes. “He’s my uncle.” 

Kanda freezes; Allen can feel the tension rising in his body. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” he whimpers, burying his face in the crook of Kanda’s neck. “Yes. I saw him.” 

Kanda doesn’t reply again, he just holds Allen, giving comforting touches and letting Allen calm down. 

“What…happened to me?” Allen whispers. “Why…did I forget him? I love him so much, I love him like I love Mana. Why did I forget him?”

“I don’t know.”

Allen wraps his arms tight around Kanda, getting as close as he can. “It’s so fucking scary.” 

“Yeah,” Kanda agrees, and Allen remembers the conversation they’d had just the day earlier.

“Do you…have things you don’t remember, too?”

A very long pause. “Yes.” 

“How much?” 

“Couple years.” 

Allen cannot help his gasp of surprise, or the way he moves back quickly to look at Kanda’s face. “A…couple years?”

“Yes.”

Kanda clearly doesn’t want to speak about it, but Allen is just so curious. “Please, tell me. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but I…” his grip tightens on Kanda’s arm as he shuts his eyes tightly. 

“I only have hazy memories of anything before I came to America.” 

“Wait…what? You were ten!” 

“I was.” 

Allen is at a loss for words. He’s only struggled with a hole in his memory, but for Kanda…ten years…most of his childhood…just gone. He’s suddenly reminded of Kanda mentioning how Tiedoll would cry when Kanda talked about not remembering what a bed felt like. “Then…Tiedoll he…he knew…”

“Probably fucking so.”

“And he never told you why.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry to make you talk about it, I just…” Allen takes a deep breath. “I had problems with my memories, too…even before the, uh, episode…”

Kanda seems shocked. “How?”

“It wasn’t as bad as yours. I could remember my childhood but…but there was always a hole in my memories. A black figure with a wide smile, or an invisible ghost I could feel and hear but couldn’t see. It was maddening, but I grew used to it.” He trails off. “The entire time…that entity was Neah. He was always there. I grew up with him, he’s the one that taught me about music.” 

Kanda blinks at him, apparently trying to find his words. “So…why did you think you were Neah, then?” 

“What?!” Allen pushes further back, appalled, and Kanda seems to realize the mistake he made very quickly. 

But he can’t back out now, as much as it’s clear he wants to. “When you got confused…you thought you were Neah. You thought you died.” 

“Uncle Neah did die. I saw it just now. He died in the snow, on my ninth birthday.” 

“And you kept talking about seeing snow, too.” 

Allen is glad he can’t remember his episode. It sounds like it was horrifying. “I…don’t understand.” 

Cross must, though. That’s why he was asking all those questions. “If that old man Tiedoll knew what was wrong with me…I bet your shitty godfather knows what’s wrong with you.” 

Allen is surprised that they had the exact same train of thought. “I think so, too. He had a lot of questions for me when I got home, but he never tells me anything. I don’t think he’ll tell me this either, but it's worth a shot.” He pauses. “Will you…come home with me? To ask him?” 

Kanda looks at Allen for a long time, and Allen sees him searching his face for something. “I’ll go with you.” 

Allen feels so relieved. He slides in close again, feeling Kanda’s warmth, letting his eyes slip closed for a second so he can breathe. “Thank you,” he whispers, and Kanda puts a hand on the back of his neck. 

They get ready slowly, lazily, not rushing whatsoever. Allen isn’t looking forward to what’s coming, but he knows it has to happen. He can’t live not knowing. 

Kanda drives them to his house, pulling into the driveway, and Allen is very confused by the second car sitting next to his godfather’s. 

“That’s Komui’s car,” Kanda says, voice low. 

“What the hell?” Allen takes off his seatbelt with more force than necessary and gets out the car quickly. Is it something to do with Lenalee? But why would Komui come here? 

He rushes up to the front door, barely hearing Kanda lock the car, and unlocks it. The inside of the house is nice and warm, and he can clearly see Cross and Komui sitting at the dining table. His heart drops, knowing that there can be no good reason for them to be here. 

Cross doesn’t look concerned, but he never does really. His feet are kicked up on the table and there’s a lit cigarette in his mouth, but Allen doesn’t even bother to tell him not to do either. 

Komui, on the other hand, does appear concerned. 

Allen opens his mouth to speak and finds that he can’t.

“Have a seat, Allen.” Komui motions to the seat next to him. “And Kanda, it’s nice to see you.” 

Kanda just grunts and welcomes himself inside, dragging a chair out and letting it loudly scrape the floor before plopping down into it. “What the fuck gives?” 

“A man who gets right to the point,” Cross laughs. “But also a man sticking his nose where it shouldn’t belong. Get on back to your dungeon.” 

Kanda snarls at him, leaning forward. “What. The fuck. Gives.”

Komui clears his throat, feeling uncomfortable. “As much as I hate to say this, Kanda, you should go.” 

Kanda’s eyes lock on Allen’s, and Allen can feel the worry coming off of him in waves. Allen asked him to come, and now Kanda doesn’t want to leave him alone with whatever this is. Still, it doesn’t seem like they’re willing to get Kanda involved in this. 

“It’s okay,” Allen says, finally finding his voice. His eyes don’t waver as they look at each other. “I’m okay. You can go.” 

Kanda makes a sound of annoyance but gets up from the table anyway. When he’s passing Allen he pauses for a brief second to place a comforting hand on his shoulder and bend down next to his ear. “Let me know if I need to murder anyone.”

Allen laughs. “Go home, Kanda. I’ll talk to you later. Thank you for bringing me.” 

Satisfied, Kanda storms out of the house. 

“Godfather…what is this about?” 

Cross takes a very long drag of his cigarette and blows it at Allen’s face. “What do you think?”

“We…assumed you might come to us sometime soon, and we…” Komui trails off.

“Wait, Komui, I don’t understand,” Allen says, leaning forward. “How do you know my godfather?” 

“We…work together,” Komui frowns.

Allen whips his head towards Cross. “Tell me what’s going on with me.” 

“Absolutely not,” his godfather returns nonchalantly. 

“You may not believe this, Allen…but it may exacerbate things.”

“Then what’s the point of all this?!”

Komui folds his hands together. “We needed to tell you…”

His godfather finishes the sentence when it seems Komui can’t. “You can’t associate yourself with Yu Kanda.” 

Allen just blinks, unable to believe what he’s hearing. “Wait…what?”

“Let me rephrase,” Cross amends, clearing his throat. “You can’t be fucking Yu Kanda.”

Allen feels his entire face heat up. “What?!”

This is so, so not something he wants to discuss with his godfather and…Komui, of all people. 

“You can stay friends,” Komui offers unhelpfully. “But a relationship is not…”

“Not what? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Not permitted,” Cross grumbles around his cigarette. 

Allen’s head is swimming. They literally got together yesterday. 

“We’re afraid that a relationship between the two of you will…create issues…” Komui trails off. “I’m sorry. I know you like him.” 

“This doesn’t make any sense. You won’t tell me anything, but then just expect me to…call things off with Kanda when we just figured things out yesterday?”

“That’s exactly why,” Komui tells him softly. “You are permitted to know Yu Kanda, but developing a relationship with him is beyond the confines of what's allowed.”

“You’re talking as if…this is some decision you aren’t making yourself!”

“It isn’t,” Cross tells him.

“Marian!”

“Well, it isn’t,” his godfather tells Komui. “Listen, Idiot,” he says, addressing Allen again. “What is something a relationship has that a normal friendship does not?” 

“I…I don’t know…romance?” 

“Good job. And what happens to two people in love?”

“They…are happy?” 

“Sure, until something bad happens. Then what?”

“They’re…sad? Godfather, what is this about? You aren’t making any goddamn sense. You have to give me a genuine reason why I can’t see Kanda or I won’t agree.”

“You won’t agree anyway,” Cross snaps. “You think we’re stupid?”

Well, that’s true. Komui clears his throat and speaks up.  “Yesterday, when the two of you…were seen as quite obviously romantically attached, we were told you had to end it. For everyone’s safety.” 

Allen feels like everyone has gone crazy. “So you expect me to sit here and listen to this insane bullshit and then…what?”

Cross leans very close to him. So close he can smell cigarettes on his breath. “Understand that we are all being watched, Allen. Very closely.”

Allen feels ice run through his veins. This sounds like insane conspiracy theories, but Cross has never been the type to agree to anything but concrete facts, and the fact that he’s always so evasive means maybe there is something to be afraid of. 

Komui leans forward as well, pitching his voice extremely low. “This might seem absurd, but you have to listen to us. No one can know you’re in a relationship with Kanda.”

Allen leans back in his seat, feeling overwhelmed. “Who’s watching?” He whispers back.

“Big Brother,” they both return at the same time, looking dead serious. 

That means absolutely nothing to Allen. “What the fuck,” he murmurs. “This isn’t okay.” 

“Allen,” Komui stresses. “No one can know you’re in a relationship with Kanda.”

Alright, Allen understands what Komui is saying, but not why. 

“This seems sudden to you, but it isn’t. Central has been keeping an eye on this for-“ 

Komui claps his hands over his mouth and looks at Cross with wide eyes. His godfather just shrugs. 

Allen takes a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. Compartmentalize.

Okay. So. Someone has been watching all of them, presumably for quite some time. Someone named Central. Or perhaps that’s some agency or…God that makes zero sense. 

Central, whoever they are, does not permit him to be in a romantic relationship with Kanda. 

It will endanger people if they pursue said relationship. 

No one will tell him what the fuck is going on with him or what they mean by endangerment. 

Komui and Cross work together.

Presumably for Central.

He’s just getting more confused. This is ridiculous. 

“What happened to me?” Allen asks, voice low, as if speaking to himself. “Why didn’t I remember Uncle Neah?”

This seems to stun the both of them. 

“Things are progressing quicker than we thought,” Komui says, voice hard. “They won’t like this.”

“Allen, don’t you fucking tell anyone that name. Not a fucking soul. Do you understand me?” 

He looks up at Cross. “This isn’t fair.” 

“We know,” Komui smiles sadly. 

“You can’t do this to me.”

“We can,” Cross nods. “We are.”

“It’s for the best, Allen.” Allen grits his teeth. This is infuriating. “We were going to leave it alone if nothing serious happened, but…trust me…you don’t want the people making these decisions to be your enemy.” 

He stands suddenly, well beyond angry at this point. “How am I supposed to fucking…leave it alone? How the hell do you expect me to be scared of someone when I don’t know who they are? You realize this is completely fucking unreasonable.” 

Cross and Komui stay silent. 

“What will happen if they find out I’m going against them and stay with Kanda? What if I go into the city screaming my uncle’s name? What then? Will I finally fucking be told something?”

“You’ll be killed,” Cross returns suddenly.

Allen laughs meanly. “Now isn’t the fucking time for jokes, Cross.” 

It’s the first time he thinks he’s ever called his godfather by his name, and it has the desired effect. Cross goes from nonchalant to pissed in a span of a second.

“You think this is a fucking game, Allen? You think we’re just fucking with you?” He grabs Allen by the shirt and drags him close. “You want to fucking die?”

Of course he doesn’t. This is just fucking insane. 

“If you can’t fucking listen, I will pick your ass up off this goddamn ground and drag you back to India.” 

That shuts Allen right up. 

“Allen, please understand,” Komui intones. “There are only certain things you can know, and much more that you can’t. I’m sorry it has to be this way. We just want to keep you safe.”

Cross lets go of his shirt and Allen falls back into his chair, staring at the ceiling. “Am I at least allowed to explain to him why this is happening?”

Komui takes a deep breath, but Cross speaks first. “You have one goddamn day, Allen. One. You decide however the fuck you want to proceed. Be aware that if your pretty little boyfriend finds out too much, he’ll be on the hit list as well.”

Allen swallows. “Well, it’s not like I even know enough to tell him anything.”

“Don’t mention Neah to him, Allen,” Komui whispers. “Please. Do not mention him. Don’t tell him he’s your uncle.” 

Allen weighs his options. He decides it’s far worse to keep his mouth closed. “I already did.”

“Oh shit,” Cross groans, and Komui is already dialing a phone number. 

“Why does that matter so much?”

“If he knows who that man is, he’s already in danger. You can’t even be seen together.” 

“I only told him this morning! We were alone! He won’t tell anyone else, not if I tell him not to!” 

Cross and Komui both look at him, and Komui lowers his phone. 

“Please don’t tell me I can’t even see him,” Allen asks, voice cracking. “I want him to be safe, I promise. I’ll make sure he never repeats the name ever again.”

“You realize that if he does, he’s in trouble.”

Allen nods, feeling his face get hot. Months of time and pining and feelings, all for it to culminate into this. All to be immediately shot down. 

Cross sighs. “You have one day, Allen. Tell him whatever you want to, but understand there will be repercussions if you don’t listen to us.”

“Why can’t we just…fight? Why does this just have to be it?” 

Cross whispers so lowly that Allen almost doesn’t catch it. “We’ve been fighting a long time, Idiot.” 

He inhales sharply, standing. If he has one more day to openly be with Kanda, he’s going to take it. They’ll figure out the rest. They’ll come up with some plan. They’ll make sure they aren’t alone much, or that they aren’t affectionate in public. They’ll figure it out. If his godfather and Komui are to be believed, they really don’t have any other options. 

The walk to Kanda’s is even more depressing than the first time. He takes this time to cry, to be angry, because he doesn’t want to spoil their day. He doesn’t want to make Kanda any more upset than he already will be. 

Ah, shit, Kanda’s gonna go run off and try to kill someone after all.

He knocks on the door to Kanda’s house and it opens almost immediately. 

Allen wastes no time. He pushes them both back inside, shuts and locks the door, draws the window curtains closed, and turns off the lights. By the time he’s done, Kanda is looking an almost comical mix of deep concern and deeper confusion. 

“Beansprout, what the hell.” 

Allen doesn’t answer. He throws himself at Kanda, wrapping arms around his waist, burying his face in his chest. “I’ll…I’ll tell you, but first I need to hold you for a minute.” 

Kanda is frozen for a moment before he puts a hand on Allen’s back. He revels in the warmth, the comfort, tries not to get bogged down in the pain and sorrow of what’s happening. To get everything he wanted to just have it be snatched away in an instant. Somehow, he’d had the feeling something would go wrong. Not this wrong, though. 

“Can we go to your bed?” Allen whispers.

Kanda doesn’t reply, just takes him by the hand and pulls him upstairs. 

Once they’re laying down, Allen pulls the blankets completely over them and wraps himself up in his boyfriend once more. 

“Beansprout, what’s going on? You’re acting really fucking weird.”

“I really like you, Kanda. I really do.” 

“I know,” Kanda whispers back, petting his hair.

“They told me I can’t see you anymore.”

Kanda’s reaction is immediate. He pushes Allen away to look him in the eyes. “What the fuck? Are you fucking joking? Because that’s not goddamn funny.”

Allen starts to tear up, he can’t help it; this seems to cement the idea that he’s completely serious, and Kanda pulls him back to him. “What the fuck? Why not?” 

Allen takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. . “It’s a lot. And it sounds crazy.” 

“But clearly it isn’t.”

“I don’t know…it’s so hard to believe what they were saying.” He pauses. “Kanda, you cannot ever tell anyone about Neah being my uncle. Promise me.” 

“What? Why?”

“Promise me!”

“Okay, okay, fuck! I won’t say anything.”

“Please don’t, please.”

“I won’t, Allen,” Kanda says as he wraps himself more tightly around him. Allen deeply appreciates that they have so many points of contact. 

“They told me we can’t really be together. They said we’re only permitted to see each other.”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. Komui mentioned some sort of…Central. I’m guessing they’re an ag-“

“Wait, stop, Beansprout. Did you say Central?” Allen feels nails dig into his shirt. 

“Yes…” his heart rate picks up. “Do you know who they are?” 

Kanda is quiet for a minute. “Tiedoll worked for them. They’re…shit. Allen, they are bad fucking news.” 

“What do you know about them? Apparently they’re the ones dictating our relationship.”

“I don’t know that much. Tiedoll mentioned them a few times before he...died.”

Allen thinks this is as good a time as any to ask. “How did he die?”

“He was killed.”

Allen feels his heart shatter. He didn’t know Tiedoll, but he was Kanda’s father. Allen has seen that he truly loved him. He remembers Neah, how his heart broke. Kanda knows that pain, too, but it’s so much more recent, and so much clearer. It's only been a year. 

“I’m...I’m sorry. Do you think that…?”

“Central had something to do with it? I don’t fucking know. I don’t think so, from the way he was talking.”

“Can I ask...what he was saying?”

“A lot of shit. It mostly revolved around us not speaking to anyone who says they’re from Central. He told me that they’re the reason I can’t remember my childhood.”

Allen pauses. “How…?”

“I don’t fucking know. He never said that.”

“So then...Central is connected to the both of us through our guardians.” A breath. “Lenalee, too. Komui is also a part of this. Do you think they’re all...working together? What’s the odds of them all being in the same place? Maybe we’re kept close for a reason.”

It would make sense. Central would expect Kanda and Allen to know each other. There wouldn’t be much getting around that. If all of their guardians knew each other, they clearly would as well. And as long as Kanda, Lenalee, and Allen didn’t know anything about whatever fucking master plan they’ve got going on, they probably wouldn’t care. 

“Kanda...do you think...our memory loss...is related?”

He feels Kanda startle. “What?”

“If Central is the cause of your memory loss, and they seem to be aware of mine, it would make sense. I mean. What if there was...I don’t know, shit. What if there was something we both knew, before. Lenalee, too. Maybe we’re all here so that Central can keep an eye on us, maybe our guardians are working to protect us from that.”

Things are starting to make a little more sense. If Central doesn’t want Kanda or Allen to know too much, of course they wouldn’t want them too close. Maybe they could piece things together.

“Tiedoll, Komui, and Bookman did all know each other.”

Right, Bookman is Lavi’s grandfather. “Maybe they all...maybe we all...maybe this is all on purpose.” He closes his eyes, rubbing his forehead against Kanda’s chest. 

“Maybe fucking so. Now what do we do about it?”

“From the way Cross and Komui were talking, there isn’t much we can do. They won’t say anything. They even told me that if Central found out I remembered Neah I’d be…killed.”

Kanda makes an angry noise. “The fuck you would!” 

“And they said something similar about you knowing about Neah.”

“Then it seriously fucking sounds like the same goddamn people did this to us.”

“Yeah…” They’re quiet for a moment until Allen speaks up again. “When I had my...episode, or whatever we’re calling it, didn’t you say there was a man named Tyki?”

“That’s what you called him.”

“What if he was...also involved in this?”

“He almost certainly fucking was.”

Allen bites his bottom lip. “This...isn’t good.”

“No.”

“Did Tiedoll ever say anything at the end?”

Kanda’s quiet for a moment. “Just...he kept talking about Noah...something or other.”

“Like...as in the biblical figure?”

“I guess. I don’t fucking know. He said a lot of shit I didn’t understand the month before he died.”

Allen suddenly remembers something from the day before. He climbs out of bed, scrambling over Kanda, who makes an irritated noise, and digs through the pockets of his suit still laying crumpled on the floor. 

He jumps back into the bed and shoves the business card in Kanda’s face. “Look.”

Kanda swats him away and then snatches the card. “Is this...is this from that fucking guy at the party last night?”

Allen nods. “Yeah. He said he was a part of the NOAH group.”

Kanda frowns deeply. “Fucking hell.”

“So...are they dangerous, too? Why did he target me? Is he with Central...or against them, maybe?”

“Tiedoll spoke about them like they were two different entities.”

“So...there’s two sides...struggling against each other. The NOAH and Central.”

“That Tyki fuck. He mentioned some weird shit, too. He referenced an order. And he said something about...the order fucking both you and I over.”

Allen groans. “This is all too much. This is crazy.”

“You’re telling me,” Kanda grumbles. 

“Okay, okay. So, let’s try to get this all straight. There’s some...agency. They’re called Central. They’re probably also the order that Tyki mentioned. They oppose the NOAH, who we know nothing about. Apparently our memory loss is attributed to them. Tyki himself was probably a part of the NOAH, I would guess, if he was talking about Central like that. And...this Sheryl person from last night - also a NOAH.”

“This is irritating. Let’s grab Lenalee and fuck off to Canada or something.”

“What about Lavi?” Allen laughs. 

“He can ride in the trunk.”

He takes a deep breath and then lets it out as a sigh. Kanda’s right. This is a lot to take in at once. He supposes that it isn’t all at once, though. This has been going like this for months. The entire reason they moved to New Orleans is likely because of Central. Cross is associated with multiple people who also work for them. The four of them all have guardians associated with Central, too. And it just so happens that the NOAH are here as well? It can’t be a coincidence, right?

“We’ll figure something out,” Kanda tells him, voice low and angry. “These fucking people...interfering with our lives like that. I don’t care who the hell is right or wrong.”

“We can’t fight them.”

“Clearly,” Kanda returns dryly. “But they can’t fucking do this to people. They’re playing god.”

They are, Allen realizes. Morphing people into whoever they want them to be. Steal memories. Stealing lives. 

“So...then what do we do about...us?” Allen’s voice is smaller than he’d like.

Kanda doesn’t seem to know. He doesn’t answer. 

“Komui...specifically said that they can’t know. What if we could...somehow...hide it…? Like...we can stay friends, we can know each other, we just can’t openly be in a relationship.” Allen takes a breath. “But that doesn’t mean we have to stop...feeling things. We can still be close. We can make sure that Lenalee and Lavi are around us a lot so it seems like we’re all hanging out together. We can make sure we don't stand too close when we’re out in public. I...I feel like we could do it. It’s better than the alternative…”

“I guess,” Kanda finally returns. It doesn’t sound like he really likes the idea.

“Honestly, the thing I’m saddest about is not being able to spend nights here. It was really nice to wake up next to you.” Allen laughs. “Maybe we can all have sleepovers and Lenalee and Lavi can stay in your brothers’ old rooms. We’ll...we’ll figure it out. It doesn’t have to...it doesn’t have to end.”

Kanda nods, and Allen presses a kiss to his throat. “Good,” Kanda returns, nodding. He tilts Allen’s head up to draw him into a deep kiss. “If we aren’t supposed to be alone, what are you doing here?”

“Well…” Allen trails off. “Godfather said we had today to get our...affairs in order, I guess.”

“Generous,” Kanda says sarcastically.

“Well, it’s something. One day to make up for the ones we’ll lose.”

Kanda draws him into another kiss, even deeper than the previous. He feels his toes tingle. “Well then,” Kanda says as he draws away, eyes lidded. “We’ll have to make the most of it.”

Allen laughs despite himself and wraps arms around Kanda as his boyfriend flips them over and straddles his waist. 

They’re still together, for now. Even if things will be different, even if Allen has to live with the constant knowledge that someone is breathing down his neck and there’ll be hell to pay if they’re found out, they’re still together. 

Allen just hopes that one day they can come out on the other side, and they won’t have to hide anymore. 

Chapter Text

“I had a great time.”

“You liar.”

“I was with you. I had a great time. If I was in a Turkish prison, I'd have a great time with you.”

“I don't know. It's just too weird for me. Maybe this shouldn't happen.”

“What - you and me? Well, maybe it doesn't happen all the time, but it doesn't mean it isn't right. Doesn't mean we can't try. Feel any better if I asked you to the prom?”

Allen scoots further into the couch, snacking on chocolate with Lenalee pressed close to his left side and Kanda on his right. 

“Boo!” Lavi throws a piece of popcorn at the screen. “Get bent, Blane! Duckie is the best!”

Allen laughs softly, covering his mouth. He doesn’t say he agrees with Lavi, but he certainly believes it. Blane is an awful love interest, but Pretty in Pink is a great fucking movie nonetheless. 

He notices Kanda looking down at him and glances over. He’s almost smiling, eyes soft as he looks down at Allen, and Allen flushes with happiness but turns back to the movie. Still, he lets the hand between them softly rub against the side of Kanda’s thigh. 

“He is kind of an asshole,” Lenalee agrees. 

“John Hughes isn’t known for making the greatest male love interests,” Allen chuckles. “I mean, Sixteen Candles is okay, I guess.”

“Allen, I bet you had a huge crush on Jake when you were younger!” Lavi calls, throwing a piece of popcorn at him.

Allen laughs louder, grabbing it and throwing it back at Lavi. “Younger?” He challenges.

“Excuse the fuck outta me! Yu’s got competition!”

Allen smiles thinly. They’re all at Lenalee’s house, so it should be fine, right? Still, they need to speak with their friends about everything soon. Sooner than soon. 

Allen just doesn’t know what to say, and he’s positive he’s going to be the one doing all the talking. 

For now, though, it’s still okay to have fun. They’re safe in Lenalee’s house. Komui isn’t here, but even if he was, Komui wants to keep him and Kanda safe. Allen really does believe that. 

He pats Kanda’s arm patronizingly. “It’s okay, Kanda knows he’s always going to be second in my heart. Isn’t that right, Darling?”

Kanda just sneers at him and Allen snickers, going back to the movie but leaning against him a little more. “Oooh, shots fired!” Lavi yells.

“Lavi, shut up and watch the movie! This is like one of the best parts!” Lenalee whines, and it shuts Lavi right up. 

After the movie, Allen and Lenalee go run to grab food. Allen is usually involved in these things as he’s the only one who could ever possibly know just how much food to order, and also no one else can be expected to pay for the sheer amount of food he can consume. Not even Lavi. 

As they drive, Lenalee keeps looking over at him. He feels a little awkward, obviously being scrutinized, and glances back over at her. She squints her eyes and then looks back at the road; she opens her mouth, closes it, then opens it again. “Allen…”

He swallows. She’s being strange. “Yes?”

“Y’all are being weird.”

He blinks at her. “Huh?” He asks, witheringly.

“You and Kanda. You’re being weird.”

Ah, shit. Well. He needs to speak to her about this anyway. But how does he do that? 

“Weird how…?”

“Like,” she waves her arm in the air ambiguously. “Weird. You aren’t acting like a new couple. It’s like you’re second guessing everything you’re doing. The both of you! It’s like there’s some...I dunno! Secret agreement where y’all have to be weird as hell about everything!”

Yeah. Yeah, she definitely needs to know. “Lenalee…” He starts. 

“I would have thought that once the two of you started having sex you’d be over this!”

He starts choking, absolutely not having expected that. “Lena…”

“I mean, Kanda, for sure, should be a little more relaxed. He’s had a boner for you for like four months!”

“Lena!”

She looks over at him. 

He knows he’s blushing. It’s nice to hear Kanda’s been into him that long, though. “Listen. I...I’m gonna explain. Sort of. What I’m going to say will sound ridiculous and you will want more information but I cannot explain.”

“Uh…?”

He takes a deep breath. “You can’t...I mean, we can’t…goddamn this is hard. How do I explain this? I wasn’t quite ready, ya know.”

“Allen, what the fuck are you talking about?”

He looks at the dashboard, running his fingers along the plastic. “No one can know about Kanda and I.”

“What?” She looks over at him, nearly swerving the car into the median.

“Lenalee!”

She gets control of the car again, but still seems just as frazzled. “The two of you idiots have been pining after each other for months, and now...what...you want to keep it a secret?”

He purses his lips. “It’s not that we...want to, per se. We have to.”

“That makes zero sense, Allen. It’s 2021, you can be as gay as your cute little heart wants to be.”

“I-I know that! That’s not what I mean!”

“Then I’m lost.”

“I know. I...I’m sorry. I just need you to promise me. Unless we’re in a car or...one of our houses you can’t speak about it.”

Lenalee regards him for a long time. “My brother is involved, isn’t he?”

Allen whips his head to her so quickly he gets dizzy. Placing a hand against his forehead he whispers, “What?”

“My brother. The day after Christmas, I know he went to your house. He had said he just went to visit your godfather, but he would have had no real reason to. And anyway he...he’s been speaking about you like he’s known you. The first time I mentioned you he told me things I didn’t even know yet. It was weird, but he just said he knew Cross and he had heard you were coming here.” She takes a shaky breath, eyes narrowed at the road. “He lies to me a lot. I know he’s doing it because he thinks he’s protecting me, but I always know when he lies. Every time.”

“Lena…”

“So, yeah. My brother. What did he tell you?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, anxiety spiking. “He did...insinuate that no one could know about Kanda and I and that...consequences would ensue should we not listen to him.”

She sighs harshly, running fingers through her hair. “He tells me stuff like that, too. He’s been saying it my whole life.”

Allen feels like he’s outside of himself, watching this. Suddenly there’s something he needs to know. “Lenalee...do you have...a spotty memory...of your childhood?”

Her hands grip the steering wheel tightly. “Yes.”

He doesn’t respond to that. He hugs his arms around himself tightly and leans against the car door, exhaling. Everything is really seeming to be connected. If Allen had for some reason gotten together with Lenalee, he bets they would have said he couldn’t be with her either.

It doesn’t feel fair. He doesn’t know what he’s expected to think. Whatever happened to them, they never asked for it. This mysterious fucking Central...Order...whoever the hell they are - it’s their fault. 

“Don’t bother trying to figure things out,” Lenalee whispers after a minute. “You won’t. It doesn’t make sense. It’s better to just try to forget about it.”

“How can I?” He mumbles back. 

She pauses. “I guess you can’t. But I’ll do what you asked. I’ll even help you guys out,” she says, a grin behind her voice. 

He looks over at her, startled. “What are you talking about?”

She shrugs. “You guys can come over and have sex in my room.”

“LENALEE LEE.”

“What?”

“That is - that is the most horrific - I cannot even deal with you. You and Lavi are fucking perfect for each other. How can you...how can you….even say that. I can’t fucking...how am I supposed to...on your bed?!”

She’s laughing, and Allen wonders if she was just teasing. 

“Okay, okay, I understand. I don’t want my sheets all full of boy sweat and jizz, anyway.”

“You are the least ladylike person I have ever met.”

“But really, I won’t tell anyone. I promise, I don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize whatever plan y’all have to stay together.”

They don’t really have much of a plan beyond - ‘pretend they’re still closeted.’ The day they were supposed to talk things out and make a plan ended up just becoming a day of mind-numbing sex. A lot of it. Not much else. They had a meal once, he thinks.

Well, who knows when they’ll get the chance again - Lenalee’s disgusting offer notwithstanding. 

“Thank you,” he breathes. 

She smiles over at him as they pull into the parking lot for food. “Of course. I’m really happy the two of you are happy. I think you’re good for each other. Kanda needs someone who can keep up with him and bring him back down from his dumb pedestal. And I think it’s nice that he brings out the worst in you,” she snickers.

“Gee, thanks.”

“Well! It’s fun, isn’t it?”

It is. Allen’s sort of hid behind the mask Mana gave him the last few years, and Kanda has a tendency to forcibly rip it off his face. Whether it’s working Allen up in irritation, or not taking the bullshit martyr thing he tends to do when he doesn’t want anyone to worry - Kanda sees through all of it. 

He supposes that’s one of the things that draws Allen to him the most. Kanda is such a dynamic person - he’s special, in the sense that Allen has never found anyone that makes him so genuine. In the sense that he makes Allen not afraid to be genuine. 

Allen’s never really known the comfort of another person - not since Mana and Neah. The friends he’s made along the way never stayed long enough for him to develop any sort of real attachment, and certainly Allen has never felt comfortable enough with any of them to show his real self. 

Behind the genteel smiles he gets angry, he gets sad, he gets confused and hurt and irritated. 

Kanda calls him a crybaby but he can’t remember the last time he cried in front of someone else. 

Something about Kanda is disarming. Maybe it’s how stubborn he is, like a part of Allen sees zero point in trying to hide. Maybe it’s because he likes him, because he trusts him. Maybe it’s because of how Kanda keeps showing him he can rely on someone else. He has the emotional range of a toaster, typically, but that means that when Allen draws out something besides irritation it’s that much sweeter. 

And he does, now. Even if they can’t be openly together, he still gets the same open, gazing looks and soft smirks. Kanda’s expressions tell Allen everything he needs to know. 

Allen thinks maybe he more than likes Kanda, which is stupid. They got together like three weeks ago. 

Then again, Kanda’s been giving him comfort unintentionally for months. Maybe he’s more than liked Kanda for a while. Maybe that’s why Kanda is such a safe space for him. 

Allen hates that they have to hide. It makes him want to do something about it, he just doesn’t know what. He doesn’t know what he’d do, or even who he’d do it to. He was right - they can’t fight Central. Even if it wasn’t this abstract organization he knows nothing about, he and Kanda are just regular people. 

The thought is depressing. They can’t do this forever. Maybe eventually Central just won’t care anymore, but how long can they even go on like this? Is he keeping Kanda from being able to have a real relationship with someone? Something long term? It feels like it. It feels like he’s keeping himself from one, too, but he doesn’t really care. He didn’t even think he could have a serious romantic attachment to someone six months ago. He doesn’t want to even think about letting this go. 

When they get back to the house with food, Komui is there. He’s nonchalantly sipping at a cup of coffee, watching Lavi and Kanda grapple on the floor. 

“Boys! God, we leave you alone for thirty minutes and you’re already trying to kill each other!” Lenalee sets the food down on the bartop separating the kitchen from the living room and stomps over to them. 

“To be fair,” Lavi pants, pushing at Kanda’s face as Kanda attempts to pull his hair out. “Yu is trying to kill me! Anything that happens from here on out is self-defense!”

She kicks Lavi lightly when he doesn’t get up after Kanda slowly stands, rubbing his side. 

“Hey there, Beansprout,” Kanda smirks, walking over to him. He stops himself just before he gets close enough to initiate any sort of physical contact though, grimaces, and takes a step back. “Bring enough food back to feed the city?” 

“Maybe just the neighborhood,” Allen returns with a tight smile. 

“You!”

Allen looks around Kanda to see Lenalee angrily pointing at Komui. Her older brother clearly looks startled; she grabs him by the wrist and pulls him into the study, slamming the door shut behind her. 

Allen can guess what’s about to happen, and he feels guilty. From what it sounded like, it didn’t seem to be anything Komui could control.

But she’s yelling so loud that they can all clearly hear her. 

“How could you do that to them, Brother!” Allen clearly hears her cry. “It wasn’t enough you had to do it to me, you have to hurt them, too?”

Allen can’t hear Komui’s response, but Lenalee’s voice rises in pitch when she responds. “Don’t fucking give me that! You could have told me! I wouldn’t ha-'' A pause. “No! I wouldn’t have egged them both on if you were just going to fucking do this in the end! At least you stopped me before anything serious happened!”

Ah. So...Lenalee got the same treatment as them, then. That’s why she never pursued Lavi. She can’t, and Lavi is just oblivious. Allen thinks it’s easier to just believe he’s gotten friendzoned than to have a serious attempt at love stolen away. 

Allen fits his hand against Kanda's, shutting his eyes tight. 

“What did you tell her, Beansprout?” Kanda’s voice is soft, even though Allen expected him to be angry. He opens his mouth when Lenalee screams again. 

“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t know what they were going to say! You should have fucking assumed! It’s the same exact thing you did to me, just too goddamn late! …I will not fucking lower my voice!” 

Lavi looks very concerned, his head whipping between the study door and Allen. “What’s she talking about?”

Allen doesn’t know what to say to him. He slowly opens his eyes.  “We got some...sorta bad news...a few weeks ago.”

“Is it why the two of you have been acting so fucking weird?”

Allen has never heard Lavi so serious. He almost sounds angry. Allen hears Lenalee choke back a sob, but she doesn’t say anything else. He feels...sad, but he also feels a lot of love for Lenalee. She clearly cares about them.

“Lavi, what I’m about to tell you will not make a lot of sense, and I know you’ll hate that…” Allen trails off, not sure of where to start. “Apparently...Kanda and I aren’t supposed to...be together.”

“What?” Lavi’s eyebrows pull together. He doesn’t even make a stupid joke.

“We have to ask that you don’t...that you pretend we’re just friends, okay?”

Lavi is so far from satisfied with that answer that he doesn’t even need to reply. He does anyway. “Why in the hell would I do that?”

“Lavi…” Allen whispers. He feels terrible. He doesn’t know what to say. 

Kanda squeezes his hand and Allen looks up at him, but Kanda isn’t looking back - his gaze is firmly fixed on Lavi. He releases Allen’s hand and walks towards their friend. “You aren’t an idiot. There’s a lot of weird shit about Lena and I’s past. You know that. You know your grandfather didn’t just inherit his status or his money. You know that Komui’s been strangely overprotective about Lenalee, and that Tiedoll was murdered.”

Lavi sways on his feet and puts a hand to his temple. He moves to the couch and sits down, then places his face in his hands. “I do,” he whispers. 

Allen swallows and walks over to Lavi, sitting next to him and pulling his hands away from his face. His green eye is damp and watery. He’s clearly upset. “I’m sorry,” Allen says. 

“Why are - why are you sorry, Al? You didn’t do a fucking thing wrong. We’re the ones that got you caught up in whatever the fuck our family’s been doing.”

Allen shakes his head. “No, Lavi. You’re wrong. I’m involved, too. Cross is a part of Central or the Order or whoever they are, just like Komui. Just like we think Tiedoll was.”

Lavi’s eye widens, and he leans closer to Allen. “Did you say...the Order? Do you mean the Black Order?”

What the hell? Lavi, too?

Kanda sits down on the other couch. “How much do you fucking know?” He seems angry, leaning forward, eyes glaring. “What do you know?”

“I-I...not much! Gramps has this...crest with a seal on it. He said it was our family crest, but it looks religious. I even looked up our insignia. There’s nothing from the U.K. that even looks like that, let alone ours.” He fiddles with his hands. “I kept digging. I found...I found that symbol again, on what looked like a dossier, in his safe in his study. It...seemed to belong to something called the Black Order.”

Now Allen feels lightheaded. This is all too much.

“I tried to look things up about them, but nothing happened. Somehow Gramps found out what I was doing and got really angry. He forbade me from trying to learn more about them, which, ya know, of course only made me more curious, but I never found out anything else. I’ve been trying for years.”

The door to Komui’s study opens and Lenalee walks out slowly, scrubbing her eyes while Komui rubs small circles into her back. “I’m sorry,” Komui apologizes. “Lenalee’s upset.”

Clearly. 

Komui sighs. “And I’m sorry things are like this.” He pauses, as if contemplating what he’s going to say. “I want you to know that we aren’t...none of us are taking this lying down. I don’t just mean the two of you.” He gestures to Allen and Kanda. “There’s a lot going on, and we’re just trying to protect all of you.”

Kanda stands suddenly, fuming. “Keeping us in the dark is not fucking protecting us, Komui!”

“It is in this case, Kanda.”

Kanda takes a threatening step further. “Next you’re gonna try to fucking tell me Tiedoll died for this shit.”

Komui looks away, gritting his teeth. Even Allen can see that’s clearly a response. It appears Tiedoll did die for this shit. 

Kanda takes more steps forward, so much rage radiating off of him it seems to flood the room. Allen worries that he might actually hurt Komui, and he stands, ready to try to diffuse the situation, when Lenalee runs up to Kanda and wraps her arms around his middle. It shocks Kanda so much that his anger seems to dampen for a moment. She cries, rubbing her face into his chest. “Stop, Kanda. This isn’t going to help.”

“What the fuck do you know, Komui?!” Kanda snaps, but he isn’t moving forward anymore. In fact, he’s wrapped his arms around Lenalee as if to protect her. 

Lavi stands, too. “If anyone has a right to know why Tiedoll died, it’s him. You know that.” 

Komui is still looking away. “If I tell you, you’re going to do something reckless.” His voice is thin, wavering. It seems like he does want to tell them more, but he's genuinely afraid to. 

“If you don’t,” Kanda warns. “I’ll end up in prison.”

“Kanda!” Lenalee cries. “You don’t mean that. Don’t say stuff like that just because you’re angry!”

He looks to the side, clearly pissed beyond belief. “He knows what happened to my father.”

Allen understands where Kanda is coming from. He has the knowledge of a loving uncle who was murdered, with no idea of why or by who. At the same time, Komui must have his reasons. 

Komui just looks tired and upset now. Tension seems to build in his body and his shoulders shake. “There’s...we aren’t going to bring children into an adult’s war.” He says harshly. “There are things you cannot control. None of you. You’re so young. We never wanted you to be a part of this.”

“I can’t remember the first ten goddamn years of my life, Asshole! Allen’s fucking uncle died and then he was forced to fucking forget him. Lenalee had to suffer through that fucking interro-”

“Don’t, Kanda.” Komui starts, angrily. “Do not finish that.” 

“We’re already involved,” Allen says, looking at the ground. “Whether you like it or not.” He hardens his gaze as he looks up at Komui. “Whoever the Black Order is, they’ve already ruined us.”

Komui’s eyes go wide, and he puts his arm against the wall as if to keep himself steady. “It can always be worse, Allen. I promise. The Order isn’t the only thing out there that can hurt you. They aren’t even the worst.”

“You mean the NOAH, right?” Allen asks, fists clenching. 

Komui’s lips purse, his nails digging into the sheetrock. “How do you know that word?”

“I told him,” Kanda puts in. “And Tiedoll told me.”

“What...what did he tell you?” Komui looks scared now. He swings his head to look at Kanda and takes a jerky step forward. “What do you know, Kanda? Tell me everything you know.”

Kanda snaps his mouth shut, clearly unwilling to comply. 

“I am deadly serious.” He takes another step forward. “If they know you know that word, they will kill you. There will be no hesitation. You aren’t supposed to know that.”

Kanda sighs harshly. “Tiedoll kept repeating it the month before he died. He didn’t even realize he was doing it half the time. The man seemed like he was losing his goddamn mind.” 

Komui looks like he’s about to have a panic attack. Lenalee is still wrapped around Kanda’s waist, her eyes shut tight, and Komui immediately goes into his pocket and he pulls out his phone.

“It’s me. It’s worse than we thought.”

Allen’s breath stops.

“Do we try again? No, I know it might make things worse, but can it be worse than them…?” Komui looks like he’s about to collapse. “What do we do?”

He seems to listen for a moment before just ending the call. 

“You all need to sit down at the dining table and…give me a few minutes.”

Komui leaves the room again and they all look at each other. Kanda releases Lenalee from his grip and Lavi walks forward to grab her hand.

“Are you okay?” He asks, leaning towards her. 

“Yes,” she sniffles. “Why is this happening?”

None of them know how to respond to that, but Allen does move to go sit at the table. The food is laying in the kitchen, forgotten, and he doesn’t even care.

Eventually the other three join him. Allen is exhausted, he just wants this to all be a bad dream.

Kanda sits down across from him and reaches his hand out immediately - Allen mirrors the gesture and their fingers loosely slide together. No one says anything; there’s just the sound of the clock ticking on the wall. 

Eventually Komui returns. He sits at the table as well, sighs, and then says: “I’d like you to know…I really am sorry to have to do this.”

The front door bursts open and Cross storms in. “Where is my idiot godchild?”

Allen stands. He doesn’t mean to, it’s a reaction; he’s shocked, scared. His godfather must be the one Komui called. 

“Sit down, Allen.”

Allen immediately listens, and Cross throws a small vial to each of them. Allen fumbles his, but doesn’t drop it. 

“Drink that.”

“What?” Kanda and Allen ask at the same time. 

“What is it?” Lavi uncorks the bottle and sniffs it, then wrinkles his nose. “Poison?”

“Doesn’t matter. You won’t remember this conversation anyway. Drink it.”

That makes Allen want to drink it even less. “Brother, what is this?” Lenalee asks, holding out the vial to him. Her brother flinches away from it, clearly distraught. 

Allen knows he’s starting to panic. All of this is happening so fast. Lenalee is hyperventilating too, and Kanda is apprehensively staring at his bottle. Lavi is the only one who doesn’t seem to be too upset. 

“Is this why they have memory loss?” Lavi asks.

“Yep,” Cross nods. “Now you get to join the fucking club. Drink up. Apparently it tastes like fucking fruit punch. Perfect for a bunch of stupid children saying stupid shit and trying to get themselves killed.”

“Is one dose okay?” Komui asks Cross then, shoulders shaking.

“No,” Cross returns. “It isn’t. It’ll only help. They won’t remember what happened tonight. Maybe some other unimportant things might get erased, but nothing long term.”

This is crazy. Allen’s vision is swimming, and he doesn’t know if he’s crying or about to pass out. 

Cross walks around to sit in the chair next to him. “You have to drink it, Allen.” 

Allen looks at him, feeling small and young, just like he did after Mana died. Except this time he can talk. “I don’t want to.”

“I know,” Cross says gently, prying the bottle from Allen’s fingers and uncorking it. “Close your eyes and tip your head back.”

Allen shakes his head, leaning away from him. “No.”

“Cross,” Kanda snaps; he pulls off the cap of his vial and immediately drinks it. 

“Kanda!” Allen gasps, but everyone is dead silent. His boyfriend is just glaring at Cross, eyes hard, but slowly they soften. He looks tired, and as more time moves on eventually they slip closed and he slumps against the table as he passes out. “Kanda!” Allen goes to stand up, to run to him, but a heavy hand on his shoulder pushes him back into his chair. 

“I knew it was a bad idea to tell you anything at all, Kid. I knew none of you would be able to leave it be. I knew you were all stupid.” Cross gives him a wry smile. “Then I guess it’s our fault after all. Open your mouth, Allen. Do you really want to remember this?”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t, he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to remember Kanda passing out, Lenalee sobbing, Lavi’s dead expression. He doesn’t want to remember this pain. Doesn’t want to remember all of this. 

But he has to. He knows he has to. If they don’t remember this, what will they do?

“This isn’t a solution,” Allen starts, voice wobbling. “You can’t just run to this when there’s something you want to save us from.”

“Better than you dying,” Cross says simply, then he forces Allen’s head back. “Open up, Idiot, before I make you.”

His lips stay firmly closed for a moment, but Cross is not relenting, and Allen knows he will make good on his promise and it will hurt if he doesn’t listen. Slowly, he opens his mouth. “Good,” Cross tells him. “Thank you, Allen.”

For a few seconds, he feels fine, but then everything starts to go downhill very quickly. Everything is foggy. His vision, his hearing, his mind. He sways, but barely notices. He barely even feels his head connect with the table when he passes out. 

“Mana, Mana! Look! I made a snow angel!” Allen eagerly rises from his space in the snow, jumping up and down and pointing down at it. He feels the cold wetness soak through his thin jacket, but pays it very little mind. 

“That’s very pretty, Allen,” Mana returns, smiling softly. 

“Mmmhmm! I like angels!”

“Do you now?”

“Yeah! They protect us!”

Mana kneels down next to him, placing a hand on top of his head. “That’s right, Allen. You can always pray to your guardian angel, they’ll always be there for you.”

“And you, too!”

Mana’s eyes widen a bit, before they turn sad. Allen doesn’t know why he looks sad. “That’s right, too, Allen. I love you very much. I’ll always be with you.”

"You think they scared him?” 

He hides behind the wall, peeking his head around the corner to watch his uncle and another man talking in hushed whispers. Uncle Neah’s biting down on his thumbnail, looking worried and scared. Allen doesn’t know why his uncle’s scared, but it makes him scared, too. Uncle Neah is always smiling. It doesn’t feel right when he isn’t.

The man he’s talking to looks pretty, Allen thinks, with short auburn hair and clear eyes. “Of course, he’s just a child.”

“I’m just glad Mana wasn’t there.”

“No, that wouldn’t have gone over well.”

“Am I doing the right thing, Allen?”

Is his uncle talking to him? He opens his mouth to reply when the pretty man speaks. “I can’t say that for sure, Neah.”

“Of course not,” his uncle returns, sounding unhappy. 

“We knew they’d show up sooner or later.”

“I was hoping it would be later,” Neah says, but his smile doesn’t look happy. 

Allen frowns to himself. They must be talking about those two scary brothers that they met earlier. They were loud, and they kept waving their guns around. He didn’t like it. It seemed like they wanted to hurt his uncle. No one should hurt his uncle. He loves him. 

The fire crackles in the fireplace, and it sounds very pretty. Fireplaces always make him think of Winter, which is when his birthday is, so he likes them.

“You can’t keep them away forever. They’re going to keep coming for your brother.”

Uncle Neah looks over the couch, right at Allen as he peers around the corner. He yelps and tries to hide, but he knows it’s too late. “I know. But is it so bad to want more time with them?”

“No…” The pretty man responds. “It isn’t.”

Cross has been gone for a long time now. Allen would worry if this wasn’t usually the case, but it’s especially irritating now. He’s been scrubbing dishes for nearly an hour to pay for his godfather’s tab, and his arm is getting tired. 

He knows, deep down, his godfather isn’t coming for him and he’s stuck there until he finishes. Fucking Hawaii. It always happens here. His godfather must like the view from the beach, and he doesn’t mean the ocean. 

He groans, leaning his head forward, and accepts that this is just his lot in life.

He thinks he might like Narain, but he doesn’t know exactly what that means for him. They’re best friends, Narain said so himself, but Allen’s only been in India for a month and knowing Cross they won’t be much longer. 

Still, when Narain had lost his sister and clung to Allen, Allen knew that the remorse he felt was different from usual. He was sad for Mina, of course - Mina was so sweet - but he was more sad for Narain. He hugged him back and felt a lot of things he didn’t know how to name. He wanted to comfort him, to be there for him. 

He’s only fourteen, though. He doesn’t think there’s much he can do for Narain except be there for him. There was nothing anyone could do for him after Mana died. Cross, as awful as he is, took care of him, but it still took him a month to find his voice again. 

He’s also noticed that sometimes Narain looks at Allen in a way Allen can’t describe; he only knows it makes his heart beat fast. Narain looks at Allen as if he can see something other people don’t and it scares him. No one is supposed to know that Allen isn’t good. That he’s cursed, that he’s mean and jealous and sad. 

He often wonders if it’s okay to like his friend. He thinks it isn’t. People in the church say it isn’t. 

Mana always told him that not everything the church said was true, because they were all only people and they couldn’t know what God really wanted. He said that God loves everyone no matter what. Even if they were bad.

Does God love him? God is supposed to know everything, so He knows that Allen lies. He knows that Allen feels this way about Narain. Somehow that takes a weight off his chest. 

It’s immediately replaced when he remembers that his father is dead, and that if God is real, there’s no way He loves him.

Allen wakes up, feeling groggy, looking around. He feels lightheaded, sick to his stomach, and his consciousness comes to him in parts. First he can only experience himself, then he starts to physically feel the bed beneath him. After that, his eyes crack open and he finds himself in a dark room, and then he realizes that the silence is not because he can’t hear, but because it’s just dead quiet. 

With a groan he pushes himself up and looks around. 

He’s in his bedroom.

He puts a hand to his head. He doesn’t remember going to sleep. The last thing he remembers is...it’s…

He yawns. 

He remembers Lavi’s party. When was that again? How long ago was Christmas?

He remembers getting prepared for the new semester of school, walking around with Lenalee to grab notebooks and pens and various other things. 

He remembers laughing with Kanda, head leaned against his chest, their hands held up and pressed together as they compared them. 

He remembers being held down, his throat ravaged. 

He remembers being held tight, his heart torn. 

He remembers being held prisoner, his words stolen. His choices limited. His life already determined. 

He puts his head in his hands. Is he drunk? What’s happening?

He reaches for his phone to check the time. It’s three AM. When did he fall asleep? What day is it? Wait, he doesn’t know the date?!

His phone says it’s January seventeenth. School starts back up tomorrow.

Why doesn’t he remember that? The last day he remembers is...the...thirteenth? Maybe? The days blend together when he isn’t in school. 

He’s thoroughly freaking out. Did he have another episode? Is this like before? 

He stands up out of bed, feeling wobbly, and rushes out of his bedroom and to the bathroom. Swinging the door open, he looks at himself in the mirror. 

He looks fine, looks normal. The black figure behind him is different, though. It looks almost like…

He yelps, spinning around, but nothing is there. 

He sinks down against the door, heaving, holding a hand to his chest, and he crawls back to his bedroom to grab his phone. 

He remembers after he’s already dialed that he’s supposed to be wary about contact with Kanda. Why is that again? Someone told him, but he doesn’t remember very well.

Kanda doesn’t answer the phone, but Allen has apparently made enough of a racket that it’s alerted his godfather, who strolls in, snatches Allen’s phone from his hand, then drops it in his pocket. 

“Back into bed with you,” Cross says gruffly, gently helping Allen up and leading him towards the bed. 

“G-Godfather,” his teeth are literally chattering. “I-I…”

He crawls into his bed. “I know, Allen. Go to sleep. It’s still working it’s magic.”

“I can’t remember anything - there...there was this black figure in the mirror. I think it was-“

“Go to sleep, Allen.”

He feels the bed dip as Cross sits next to him, and Allen grabs at his arm. “I don’t want to sleep. What if I don’t remember again?”

Cross pushes on his shoulder until Allen is lying down. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he is ridiculously tired behind his panic. “Sleep, Stupid. It’s a good thing if you don’t remember. Everything will come back into place. If you don’t sleep, Rehabilitation won’t work like it should. You want everything to get more jumbled? It’s still sorting out that stupid brain of yours.”

Allen doesn’t understand, but he doesn’t want to make things worse and the longer he lays here the more tired he gets. 

He decides to give in to Cross’s request. He’ll ask more questions when he wakes up in the morning. 

Chapter Text

The start of the new semester brings a lot of anxiety. It shouldn’t, probably - they’re really just starting their materials and there won’t be any tests for a while. He gets more time in the practice rooms, too. 

It’s just that...every time he passes a mirror, his uncle Neah is there. He thinks he might be going crazy. He’s covered the mirror in his bathroom at home and just uses his front-facing camera on his phone to get ready, but every window, every puddle, anything with a reflection brings his late uncle with it. 

On top of that, he’s losing time more frequently. Sometimes it’s just a few minutes, other times a few hours. In the middle of the school day, too. It makes learning his topics harder than usual, and sometimes he finds himself at home reading his texts and teaching himself.

He doesn’t mention this to anybody, least of all Kanda. As it is, Kanda’s been overly concerned and pushing their luck lately; Allen never thought his boyfriend would be the overbearing type, but it makes some sense. Kanda has always seen himself as a sort of protector for his friends; maybe it’s because he thinks he’s stronger, or maybe just because he doesn’t want them to get hurt, but whatever the reason, Kanda doesn’t like that there’s distance between them right now. Allen supposes he feels like he won’t be around if something goes wrong, but things have already been going wrong.

By the time Lenalee’s birthday comes around at the end of February, things have only gotten marginally better. It probably doesn’t help that he and Kanda have gotten quite literally zero time together, and that his godfather has him on the tightest leash he’s ever seen. They couldn’t even see each other on Valentine’s. 

God, a kid wakes up one time with a four day memory loss and their guardian is suddenly concerned. Weird. 

Cross doesn’t really let him do anything or go anywhere - definitely not by himself. Allen feels like a five year old most of the time, and that doesn’t feel good. It’s almost like his Godfather doesn’t trust him. 

The only good thing is that he is going to allow Allen to go hang out with Lenalee for her birthday. Allow. As if Allen isn’t nineteen years old. If Cross is so concerned, why won’t he let Allen see a fucking doctor?

Still, he’ll take it. 

He hasn’t really gotten to see much of Lenalee, either, and even Lavi has been silent. They have a strange and uncomfortable dynamic now, and Allen has no idea why. Things are just all fucked up and he hates them. 

Cross drops him off at Lenalee’s house a little after noon, and watches all the way until Allen gets in the house. It sends a shiver up his spine - his godfather is being so fucking unusual. It gives him a bad feeling. 

When he walks in the house, it’s nice and warm. Lenalee is still in her pajamas, looking very comfortable with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “Come see,” she smiles at him, cocking her head towards the hallway - he follows her and she leads him to her bedroom….where Lavi and Kanda are. 

Allen is stunned, to say the least. He hasn’t seen either of them in well over a month. They’ve had cursory texts and phone calls to make sure one of them isn’t just dead in a ditch, but other than that nothing. Allen feels his eyes suddenly get hot before he runs up to where they’re sitting next to each other on the bed and wraps an arm around each of them. “I missed you!”

Lavi hugs him back, pressing his head against the side of Allen’s as Kanda’s fingers curl into his shirt and pull him tight. “Missed you too, Al,” Lavi returns, although he sounds a bit different than usual. 

Allen takes a step back, moving to take Kanda’s hand so they don’t lose contact but unable to look directly at him just yet. “You made it down for Lenalee’s birthday?” He asks Lavi, who grins and nods.

“Of course! Pretty sure I had to see for myself that everyone was still alive.”

Allen understands the sentiment. He feels Kanda squeeze his hand and pull on it a bit and Allen knows he has to focus his attention on him. He almost wishes he didn’t have to, because the mere sight of him makes Allen want to cry. Still, he dives into Kanda’s arms, wrapping arms around his neck and nearly knocking Kanda backwards on the bed. “It’s good to see you,” Allen whispers against his hair, not even concerned that Lavi and Lenalee are in the room. He means it, even though he knows it’s going to hurt worse when he leaves. 

A hand moves to the back of his head, holding him. “You too, Beansprout.”

When he can manage to pull away, he squeezes into the spot between Lavi and Kanda and Lenalee sits on the floor, leaning her head against Allen’s leg. They’re quiet for a long time, and Allen comes to the realization that something is happening with all of them. It isn’t just him. 

He feels guilty, suddenly, like he hasn’t been there for friends who need him.

Lavi is the first to break the silence. “I’m assuming no one else has any memory from January thirteenth to January seventeenth.”

Allen can’t bring himself to speak, but that’s his confirmation. Kanda’s just as silent, but Lenalee takes the responsibility of responding. “Yeah, and things before that are spotty, too. It feels like things are just...not…”

“No,” Lavi returns, tone sober. “I think everyone here knows this isn’t normal.”

How can things ever go back to normal for them? How are they ever going to smile with each other again when life is like this?

“Do we...do we just go on?” Lenalee asks. “This is just like what happened when I was a kid, but I continued on and eventually it got better.” So she’s had issues with her memory, too. Allen feels like he already knew that, but he can’t remember when she told him. He doesn’t feel surprised at all. 

“I don’t think I can do that, Lenalee,” Lavi mumbles.

“I know,” she returns. “I just…”

“I think,” Allen starts, softly. He remembers, vaguely, what happened the day after Christmas. “I think that...maybe if we just...pretend we don’t know what’s happening that…”

“What?” Kanda asks, and Allen doesn’t need to look at him to see his dark, furrowed eyebrows. 

“The day after Christmas, the more information I told Cross and Komui, the more they pulled the noose. Have any of you mentioned to anyone what’s happened?”

“No,” Lavi sighs. “Who would I tell? Gramps? You guys?”

Lenalee just shakes her head, and Kanda whispers, “No,” close to his ear. 

“Maybe we can go on...maybe Lenalee is right. The more they suspect us, the worse it’ll get. I think right now maybe they expect us to be distant while we figure ourselves out, but how long will that last? Even if we don’t ignore it, we can pretend. The only other alternative is this.”

“The only difference,” Lenalee adds. “Is that before we had differing experiences we could write off as not having any connection. This is too hard to write off as a coincidence.”

“And if they even knew we were talking about this, they’d probably say we can’t even see each other,” Allen tells her. “When...when I mentioned that Kanda knew more than he should have they immediately threatened to just...force distance. Cross threatened to take me out of the goddamn country.”

“What?” The three of them yelp at once. 

“You didn’t fucking tell me that, Beansprout!”

“Well, I pretended around them and lied to them and nothing happened! Just like Lenalee is saying! If they don’t suspect us, they won’t...this won’t...whatever is happening won’t be…”

“Well,” Lavi whispers, leaning his head against Allen’s. “Al’s got a point. Even if we pretend, we don’t have to let this whole thing go - we don’t have to ignore it.”

They all go quiet for a moment. “Okay,” Kanda says first. “Fine, whatever. It’s nothing I’m not fucking used to. Not having ten years of memories leads to a lot of goddamn lies and pretending.”

“Me too,” Lenalee nods. “It’s not like I could ever tell anyone what happened to me, either.”

Allen understands. “It’s funny,” he whispers. “In a terrible way. We’ve just...all been pretending. I thought I was the only fake one. It’s a little reassuring.”

Lenalee lets out a heavy sigh. “Take what you can get, I guess.”

“We all need to,” Lavi intones. 

“Where do we go from here?” Allen asks, looking down at his hands. For a second, they don’t look like his, and he gently shakes his head to wash away the image of his uncle transposed over his skin. 

“That’s the million dollar question, Al. We have to have...some sort of agreement on how to act.”

“We don’t just act like we did before?” Lenalee asks, looking up at them. Her eyes are rimmed red, so Allen puts a hand in her hair to comfort her. 

“Definitely not,” Lavi shakes his head. “They can’t possibly expect us to go back to how things were. That would be really suspicious. We have to find out how to navigate this in a way that they all think we’re hiding the truth from each other and hiding it behind a smile.”

“Apparently we all have experience with that,” Kanda grumbles. 

“True,” Lavi acquiesces. “But now we know everyone is having issues. We can’t...we’re going to have to...not show concern for each other. Not beyond a cursory one. We can’t let them know that we know.”

“Well, shit,” Lenalee murmurs, making a shaky exhale. 

Kanda seems to agree. “Shit’s fucked.” 

Allen doesn’t give into his feeling of pain, that it isn’t fair, that they shouldn’t have to go through this - mentioning it won’t help. They all already know. Him whining about it isn’t going to fix a damn thing, so he holds it in. He takes the feeling and shoves it down as deep as he can. It’s not the time for crying. 

“Okay,” he breathes, hoping to dissolve the tension in the room. “Well…if we’re pretending anyway, I’m hungry and want ice cream.” 

It works. Lavi laughs, hugging Allen tightly around the middle as Lenalee giggles his name and hops up. He even hears Kanda make a soft noise of amusement.

Lenalee holds out her hand to Allen. “Let’s go get ice cream, then.” 

He adores these people, all the way down the cellular level at this point. They’re ingrained in his heart, and thinks he’d do absolutely anything to keep them safe and happy. Anything at all.

Mardi Gras is, obviously, an important time to New Orleans. It lasts for weeks at a time, even though Mardi Gras Day is just a simple Tuesday in early March, and it’s…very loud. He hates their proximity to the Quarter now more than ever; even as fun as the festivities seem, most nights he gets even less sleep than usual. This really doesn’t help his more recent mental health…issues. 

Still, the chaos means another opportunity to see the three of them. He and Kanda will have to be extra careful since there’s really nowhere to hide, but that’s okay. It’s better than before, when they were just all alone. Pretending isn’t so hard. And maybe he can hold Kanda’s hand if he holds Lenalee’s too? Ah, best not to chance it.

Cross basically tells him he can pick one single parade to go to, which is sort of bullshit because most of them he can easily walk to from their house, but he takes it. He even lets Lenalee pick which one in their group chat. 

That’s why he’s shoved into the middle of a crowd at four pm on a Saturday with a drink of…something in his hand. Lavi called it a Hurricane, but it really just looks like the kind of thing that’ll have you puking red for a week. 

Even for him this feels like a lot of people, so the fact that Kanda is next to him radiating a toxic death aura is not surprising. 

“I hate Mardi Gras.” 

“I couldn’t have guessed! You look so pleased to be here.”

“Shut up, Beansprout.” 

Lavi, on the other side of him, is already drunk. If he didn’t live with an alcoholic it might seem a little early for that, but the one thing he’s learned about this city is that people here take their alcohol as seriously as they take their Mardi Gras. 

“Okay, so here’s the plan, Allen,” Lenalee whispers from behind, throwing an arm over his shoulder. Her beer dangles in his face. “I am going to use feminine wiles to get us up next to the floats, it’s the only way to win. Now the horses - they will kill you, so respect them.” 

How does one win at Mardi Gras? The horses will kill him? What the fuck is she even talking about? 

“Also, watch out for their poop,” Lavi says, sagely, taking a swig of whatever is in his cup.

“Yes, also that. And don’t pick up the beads from the ground - they aren’t worth it, and you will die.”

There’s a lot of death surrounding Mardi Gras parades. 

“Now the real gold is in two things.” She drapes her other arm over his shoulder, pressing the front of her body to the back of his, and holds up two fingers in front of his face. “First, the spears. The spears are rare, and every kid wants one, but a lot of people are assholes. We always try to get as many as we can to give to the babies. Second, the Special Beads™.” 

“Did you just verbally trademark that word?” Allen asks.

“The Special Beads™ are important. They can light up, have special doubloons or medallions, make noises, all sorts of cool things.”

“I have a pair that has a fully naked woman on it,” Lavi boasts, as if that’s impressive and not disgusting.

“We know,” Kanda groans.

“Listen, Yu, just because you’re flaming, that doesn’t mea-“ Lavi is stopped by Kanda’s fist connecting with the side of his face. Ah, just like the old days. 

Lenalee just continues on, unfettered. “So yeah. And don’t worry about the cups. Every single person in this city has so many goddamn Mardi Gras cups. Also, you could wash it a million times and still concoct about eighty diseases if you drink out of them.”

“That’s a lot of diseases. Why does everything want to kill me?”

“And one more thing,” Lenalee warns. “And this is the most important thing. I know you’re a precious sweet cinnamon roll baby-“

“Lenalee.”

“But you will inevitably see someone pee in a back corner, and you will inevitably see someone at least half naked.” 

“Great.” 

“Like I said,” Kanda grumbles, cracking his knuckles. “I fucking hate Mardi Gras.” 

“I can’t see why. Sounds like a lot of family fun,” Allen deadpans. 

“That’s why we all get drunk, Al,” Lavi tells him, idly rubbing his reddened cheek. 

“You people are always drunk anyway.”

Lavi points at him. “You got me there.” 

The more time that goes on, the more people that show. Luckily they arrived early enough that they aren’t stuck too far back, and Lenalee has her master plan, but it’s still a lot of people. With everything going on it makes him a little on edge, but he just forces the concern down deep. He wants to try to have fun. 

The start of the parade is signified by the sound of snare drums. It almost sounds like a military march, but as he looks around, he sees that it’s teenagers walking down the street. “I love the marching bands!” Lenalee yells right in his ear, excited. 

They really are nice. The high schoolers march forward, and soon enough there’s  brass instruments joining in - trumpets and tubas and french horns blare loudly, creating a ringing in his ears that he doesn't even mind. The kids playing are really good, too, and even though it’s early on he still finds himself mesmerized. They’re followed by the same high school’s dancing team, the girls spinning and kicking and doing complicated arm motions that he quickly loses track of. Music he understands, he’s good at that - dancing is a different case, though. One might think, with his flexibility and firm control of his body, that he’d be an excellent danger, but he’s hopeless as all hell. 

A jeep drives by after, an older couple waving as their golden retriever sticks his head out of the back window, along with two very young children making a very strong attempt at throwing beads but mostly succeeding in lightly tossing them on the ground. 

The ensuing battle for those ten cent beads shows that Lenalee was very right about Mardi Gras threatening death or dismemberment on those who don’t obey her rules. 

He has fun, genuinely. It starts to get dark halfway through the parade, and he’s just tipsy enough to let go of his worries and laugh as Lenalee climbs onto Kanda’s shoulders to sit on them. He doesn’t look pleased about it, but he holds her steady anyway as she reaches for a poorly made fish plush. 

He’s noticed at least four beers in Kanda’s hands by this point, and Allen is coming to the conclusion that he’s impervious to alcohol, especially considering the balance it takes to keep a five-foot-six woman on his shoulders. He might look a little less grumpy now, though. 

He thinks about how badly he wishes he could go back to Kanda’s after this and make out on the couch. A guy can dream. 

They stay for the entire parade, even though a lot of others don’t; it probably has a lot to do with them desperately not wanting the night to end. It seems like a miracle that they were even able to cut loose as much as they did - Allen feels free in a way he hasn’t in months. 

So they decide to push their luck as a group and head to a late dinner at a local diner. He and Lavi sit next to each other and across from Lenalee and Kanda, as much as he wishes they didn’t, but Allen is, of course, starving since it’s been about six hours since he last ate, and he decides to cheer himself up with massive amounts of food when it’s time to order. He happily lists items off the menu that sound good, and when Kanda doesn’t seem to want to order anything, Allen orders for him, too. 

“What’s the last time you ate, you git?”

Kanda shrugs. “Dunno. Lunch? Like a normal fuckin’ person?”

Allen gasps in mock hurt. “Lavi! Tell him I’m normal.” 

“You’re very normal, Al,” Lavi says in a very neutral and even tone. Then he leans forward across the table to Kanda and whispers, “I’m with you on this one, Yu.”

Kanda just pushes his face away and Lavi fumbles back into the seat. 

“How do you stay so skinny, Allen?” Lenalee asks, resting her cheek on her palm. “I’ve always wondered that.” 

He shrugs, accepting his juice as it’s set in front of him and sipping at it. “Dunno. Fast metabolism, probably?” 

“That is an inhuman metabolism, Al,” Lavi tells him, eyes narrowed. “Tell me the truth: are you an alien?“

“You caught me. My spaceship is cloaked, waiting in orbit for me to return home.” 

Lavi gasps and whispers, “I knew it…that’s why you’re so good at everything.”

“Uh, I am not good at everything. In fact, I’m very bad at most things.”

“Name one!” Lavi challenges.

Allen holds up his hand and ticks off his fingers as he speaks. “I could get lost trying to get from one side of an open field to the other, I cannot dance to save my life, literally any STEM subject is not compatible with my brain, I have a terrible habit of not being able to shut my stupid mouth before I say stupid things, and also - as everyone at this table has noticed - I am notoriously awful at asking for help. Shall I go on?” 

“Please do,” Kanda grins at him, teasing.

Allen sticks out his tongue. “Arsehole.” 

When the food arrives, Allen digs in, making sure to shove down the thoughts that come in the silence; the worries and concerns that he remembers when he’s not in sensory overload by giant, loud crowds, or not bickering with Kanda, or being battered with gross shit from Lavi, or laughing with Lenalee. 

For the longest time, food was one of the only things that did help. That’s another thing he never says - he plays off his eating habits as some silly character trait rather than what it is: a coping mechanism. 

He tries to shove that thought down, too. 

By the time they’re done eating, even Kanda after Allen’s insistence, they all realize their time is up. Lavi pays their bill, which Allen fights him on, but when he hands the waitress his dark blue, metal credit card Allen leaves it be. Maybe he should just finance his food issues through Lavi. It can be recompense for the things he’s made Allen listen to the past eight months. 

They all pile back in Lenalee’s car at the end, and as Allen is the closest stop, he draws the unlucky lot to have to leave their presence first. Once he’s out of the car he leans his hip against the front door and says his goodbyes through Lenalee’s rolled down window. He wishes he could at least give Kanda a kiss or hug goodbye, but once they’ve said their pleasantries he just turns around and walks towards the house.

Cross is inside, sitting on the couch and smoking a cigarette. “Where’ve you been, Dumbass?” 

Allen feels immediately defensive. He also wishes Cross wouldn’t smoke in the goddamn house for once. “We just went to get something to eat after the parade. Am I not allowed to see my friends at all?” Cross sighs in response, as if Allen is being completely unreasonable, and it makes Allen’s blood boil. “I’m not your goddamn ward.” 

His godfather seems unperturbed by the statement. “If you were smart, you’d listen better, Kid.”

“I’m not doing anything at all that you said I couldn’t do. We just all went out as friends, like before. I didn’t even touch Kanda.”

Cross blows out cigarette smoke and stands, slowly walking towards him. “Just watch your back, Allen. Don’t tell a soul what’s happened or you’ll regret it.”

“I haven’t!” He easily lies. “I wouldn’t want to jeopardize any of them.”

His godfather puts a hand on his head, almost like he’s trying to pet Allen, and it’s a really fucking weird gesture, coming from him. “We’re doing what we can, you know, but sooner or later you’re going to get yourself in trouble. You wanna keep getting your memory wiped? I know you fucks figured it out.”

Allen grits his teeth, not quick enough to come up with a lie. “So…what? They’re just gonna fuckin…drug us up or whatever every time we don’t listen?”

“Yep,” Cross replies simply, with zero emotion behind it. “So you better listen.” 

Allen swallows. “I have been, really. I’ve barely even seen Kanda, even with the others around.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know your little gay heart is broken.” Cross blows more cigarette smoke, this time directly in his face. “It’s better than your boyfriend being broken though, right?” 

Allen flinches, from the words and the smoke.

Cross leans even closer, voice low. “Not saying you can’t see the kid. Not even saying we expect you to break up. But you can’t let them see.” 

“Why? Why do they even care?” 

“Idiot,” Cross warns. “Don’t you fucking let them see. Don’t question it, because you won’t fucking get anywhere.”

Allen grimaces, but accepts what Cross is saying. He just has one more question. “Do they just have eyes, or do they have ears, too?”

Cross leans back, one eyebrow raised. “I’m impressed,” he murmurs around his cigarette. “Watch your ass on devices, but other than that you’ll only been seen if you’re not in a house with the fuckin’ blinds closed.” 

Well, it’s something. “Thank you,” he says, genuine.

Cross clicks his tongue and looks away. “You’ve just looked so goddamn pathetic lately. Can’t stand to have such a sad sack walking around all the time.” 

Allen huffs out a laugh. Just like Kanda - he never wants to admit he’s done something nice for once. 

“Also don’t be so fuckin’ late tomorrow. I want enchiladas,” his godfather says as a farewell, walking back to the couch and falling on to it. 

Allen shakes his head, still amused and still touched, and heads to his bedroom. Wiping hair away from his neck, he changes into a tank top and more comfortable clothes before sitting at his keyboard. He needs to practice for his recital, he supposes.

He’s only playing for about two minutes when his phone pings. It’s Lenalee.

You going to prom? 💃🏻🕺🏻💃🏻🕺🏻

Allen freezes, thumbs hovering his keyboard. Prom. He’s been doing a decent job of actively ignoring every announcement about it - the chatter in the halls, the notes passed during class, the stupid public prom proposals. He’s been ignoring it because he doesn’t want to think about it. There’s only one person he wants to take to prom, and he can’t. 

But he can’t really explain that over text.

Don’t think so. Got a lot going on with my recital.

Aw, it could be fun! I’ll go with you! 

Thanks, Lena, but that’s okay - really. 

He wishes she would drop it. It’s hard to ignore the fact that he can’t really be with his boyfriend when a conversation like this is happening. 

Well, fine then. But don’t practice too hard! Maybe we can all hang out and do something else that night. 🥳

Like prom at your house? With Komui as the chaperone?

Pretty sure that’s a torture on several different layers of hell 😰😰😰

The real question is…will he make us leave space for the holy spirit? 

Lolololol more like six. Hope you like to dance two feet away from your dance partner!

😂 Okay, fine. Party at Lenalee’s house.

Allen! 😭😭😭😭 What if it’s at your house? 

Mine? What would we do here?

You can serenade us 🎶🎵🎶🎵 and we raid your godfather’s liquor cabinet? Binge your extensive but, frankly, sad collection of eighties movies? 

Uncalled for. Also do you want to die? Drinking my godfather’s booze will put you on his hit list. 

😂😂😂😂 fiiiiiine we’ll figure something else out, then

He puts his phone down again, improvising against the keys, trying to will away the knot in his chest. Every time he feels better about something he just remembers that everything has gone to shit. It’s just not fair, as juvenile as it makes him feel. Why did Lena have to just…rub it in that he can’t be with his boyfriend in public? It wasn’t intentional, but still.

He sighs harshly, standing up from the bench before spinning on his heel to go to the bathroom. A hot shower should help. 

He storms in, shutting the door harshly behind him, and turns the shower on, but as he pulls his hand back he sees his uncle’s instead.

Slowly, he turns to look towards the mirror. It’s still covered; if Cross ever noticed he never asked about it, but he wonders if he does look in the mirror…who will he see? 

He walks over to the sink, heart pounding and breath coming out in shaky puffs. He closes his eyes and grips the edge of the sink, taking a deep breath and stabilizing himself before reaching for the sheet and pulling it off.

He opens his eyes. 

He’s just himself. 

And Neah is just himself too, standing behind Allen and smiling. He lets out a shaky breath, barely registering that the shower is still running as it starts to warm the room, and he leans forward to place fingers against the reflection. “Why are you here?” He asks, and the reflection doesn’t respond with words, but he does cock his head to the side and furrow his brows as if confused by Allen’s question. 

“Why are you confused? I’m the one seeing my dead uncle in the mirror!” 

Neah smiles again, and shrugs. 

It’s beyond unsettling. Neah’s never reacted to him before, but then again Allen’s also never tried to speak to him. “You’re not real, right?” His voice is so shaky it’s hard to get the words out. 

Neah shakes his head, smiling a little sadly. 

“Well, of course not. At least I know I’m fucking mad.” 

Neah vehemently shakes his head now, and Allen senses that he disagrees.

“How am I not? My dead uncle is standing next to me…” He feels his eyes starting to grow hot.

Neah regards him with an expression Allen can’t read. 

“Ugh, Uncle, what do I do? I’m losing my damn mind.”

Neah opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. 

“I get it, you’re just a hallucination. You can’t tell me anything I don’t already know.”

He leans forward, fingers curling against the countertop’s edge as the mirror starts to steam. He feels anxious, scared - he doesn’t understand what’s happening to him, but somehow…seeing Neah here…

He feels overwhelmed. Here’s a person who loved him so much, standing right by him, watching over him all the time. Just like a guardian angel.

Yet his very presence is the issue.

“Uncle Neah,” he whispers, hand wiping the foggy glass to better see his uncle. “I miss you so much, you and Mana. But you can’t be here. You aren’t real.” 

He sees his uncle’s lips move, watching him mouth the words ‘I love you,’ and Allen starts to cry, nails scratching against the mirror. “Stop it,” he cries. “Stop it, please. Don’t do this to me.”

He watches, dumbfounded, as Neah wraps arms around his shoulders and hugs him. His breath hitches with sobs, and even though he can’t feel the embrace, something about it is so real. “Don’t do this,” he pleads. “Don’t. Don’t make me like Mana.” 

Neah looks startled by that and steps away. 

Mana enjoyed his confusions and delusions; they made him so happy that he grew to need them like he needed anything else. Allen doesn’t want that, but at the same time this isn’t a delusion. It’s just a figment of his imagination. It’s harmless. He doesn’t have to push Neah away. 

He inhales a shaky breath. “You aren’t real. You aren’t. You’re just what I want you to be.”

Allen furiously wipes the stubborn mirror again, watching Neah nod quickly. 

“It’s okay then, right? I’m not Mana, I won’t be Mana. I know you aren’t real. So it’s okay. It’s okay to want to see you, right?” 

Neah smiles at him, and Allen cries harder. 

“Please, tell me it’s okay. Tell me I’m not Mana. I just want you to be here is all. I just miss you. I just want to sit and play piano with you, want to tell you about my life and all the things I’ve never been able to tell you…please…tell me that’s okay.”

Neah seems to lean closer to the mirror, and Allen mimics the action. ‘It’s okay,’ the ghost of his uncle mouths, and Allen nearly collapses against the sink in relief. It’s okay. It’s okay. He’s not mad, just imagining things. 

It’s okay. He lets the image go now as the mirror fogs once more and steps into the searing hot water of the shower. 

It’s okay.