The Fine Line

I’ve never written man-lovin’ like this before, so please don’t kill me if you don’t like it. I AM A NOOBLET! I AM SORRY!!

Disclaimer of Diligence: I don’t own D.Gray-man. If I did…it would have more of a lemony zing.

WARNING: MAN LOVING MAN. Insulted? Don’t read anymore.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sleeplessness and Bliss

Uri hung slack in his bonds, no longer caring much for the man before him. His wrists were held by manacles of reinforced steel, chains so strong that not even his superhuman strength could break them. Tyki had heard his declaration six days before when he had offered to help the man named Kanda Yuu, and none of the Noah had trusted him since.

“Answer the question, traitor.” The last word was punctuated by a powerful blow to his temple that sent his mind spinning in slow, lazy circles. He was tired, so tired. He would have given his right arm just to have a bed and a meal and a phone call. But the more he thought about it, the less just seemed to fit in that sentence.

“I don’t think he heard you, Uncle Tyki.” A smaller, childish voice said into the hollow sounding room.

“He did, he is just not answering.” Something took hold of Uri’s shirt collar and pulled it up gruffly; Uri could not see the face of the man he knew was there, the blindfold over his eyes was too tight to even see light by his nose. It kind of made it easier to handle – Tyki’s face scared him when he made sadistic expressions. “Now tell us, Uri-nii-chan, why you would say something like that to an Exorcist if not to betray us?”

Uri grinned even though it hurt his face. “Why don’t you ask Judas?”

The hand on his collar resituated itself around his windpipe and clenched down painfully. “He was a traitor, Uri-chan. Shall I take that as a confession of your obvious crime?” His fingers parted ever so slightly, enough to allow the passage of air, but not much else. He tilted Uri’s head upward slightly, ran a finger down the front of his chest gently, lightly enough to only be a breath of wind against his skin. “If that is what you meant to convey, we can end it now. The punishment for a traitor has always been the same.”

“Oh yes, it’s been the same since before there were traitors.” Uri slurred.

“You are in no position to be saying smart remarks.”

“You’re very right. It would be much more fun to say them while reclining on a bed of rose petals, a glass of wine at one hand, a beautiful woman at the other. And you at my feet, bowing lowly.”

“Do you realize that you are only making things worse for yourself by not answering?”

“Wait. Am I supposed to answer that question or the one you posed before it?”

“Don’t play word games with me, Adair.” Aw, Uri thought sarcastically, but they’re so much fun!

“Don’t call me Adair; my father’s name was Dorian, I think. Or maybe it was George. I forget, but his name wasn’t Edgar.”

“Why did you offer to help the Exorcists?”

“You see, Adair is a surname that means son of Edgar. Kind of funny, now that I—”

He was hit again, this time harder. It wasn’t really anything new though. After two days of being beaten and four without sleep, he wasn’t going to talk just because someone backhanded him a couple times and kicked him in the stomach. He was tougher than that.

“How were you going to help them?”

That made Uri laugh a little. How would he help? That was simple, and Tyki didn’t even realize that the answer was right before his eyes. Yes, Uri was a traitor, no, this had not been his plan from the beginning, but things would still work out. Because if Tyki killed him, if the Earl hurt him past healing, if Rhode slowly drove him insane with her powers, he wouldn’t be anymore. There would be one less Noah. One less evil. And the world would be better for it.

“You’re a fool, Tyki Mikk.” He said laughingly, wishing he could see the eyes of the man who was questioning him. “A truly blind fool.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kanda pressed his lips against Allen’s gently though his desire had grown to the point that the action seemed trivial. He didn’t want to lose himself. If he became too caught up in his wants he would forget what Allen wanted, as well as ignore what Allen was teaching him. So he did not try to take control, nor did he try to do want he thought he wanted. He let Allen’s tongue into his mouth, let his hands be guided to the boy’s shirt buttons, and allowed Allen’s fingers to pull the ribbon from his hair, which sent cascades of ebony silk down over his shoulders to spill onto his lover’s face. There was something that made him want to follow Allen’s lead, something that made him want to give up all control, but another part of him hated it. When Allen pushed him up so he could lie him back down on his back Kanda had the sinking feeling that maybe he didn’t want to give up entirely.

Allen had never been so sure and happy in his life. He placed his knee between Kanda’s legs and propped himself up on one arm, smiling as Kanda worked quickly to get him out of his shirt. Every silent request he made Kanda followed. When he wanted him to tilt his head up he did. When he traced the line of the other man’s jaw with his finger his lips parted slightly so he could kiss him. He almost verbally asked him to push the blankets away that remained between them, but the Japanese man did it on his own, kicking them away fiercely. There was nothing that crossed Allen’s mind that Kanda did not seem to somehow already know.

The fabric of Allen’s shirt made a soft sound when it fell away to the floor.

Kanda started on his own clothes but Allen stopped him, taking his hands away from them and placing them softly on his own skin.

“Touch me, Love,” He said before pressing his lips at the hollow of Kanda’s neck. “Only me.” Kanda might have grunted his acknowledgement, but the sound was lost in a low moan that escaped his throat. Kanda could feel Allen’s heart beating against his palm, could count his ribs beneath the layer of tense muscle that wrapped them. The contact was electric. He found himself wishing that he were touching yet more of that skin with yet more of his own. Clothes suddenly seemed like nothing but a hindrance. Nothing but a force to separate them.

The good thing was that Allen’s mind was traveling a similar road. Kanda was just as beautiful like this as he had imagined.

Kanda’s hands floated across his chest, caressing lightly. Allen skillfully undid Kanda’s shirt and slipped the garment over his shoulders, realized that he had more work ahead. Though their movements had nearly destroyed the bandage on his shoulder, there was still the rather large one across his chest to be dealt with.

The smaller boy wrapped his fingers in the linen and pulled with nearly all his might, shredding the material into small, useless stands with his action. The man beneath him did not even flinch. His deep sapphire eyes followed the lines his hands were tracing, first down Allen’s chest to his hips, then up to his shoulders, to the bend of his neck, and back again. He was like a blind man reading the message written on Allen’s flesh. With every sweep and motion the heat between them grew in intensity.

“Allen,” Kanda said softly, but the utterance carried far more with it than just a name. He could feel his arousal keenly, and he could plainly see the heat in Allen’s cheeks, the fire in his eyes. He reached up and took the boy by the hips and pressed them together until he could feel the smaller boy’s erection against him.

Allen made a small gasping sound that might have been a question. “You’re too slow without me,” Kanda breathed. He kissed Allen roughly; the other boy’s arms stopped trying to hold his weight up so much as his palm slid across the exposed flesh of Kanda’s chest, his fingers traveled along the top of his pants.

Kanda leaned into the pressure his palm caused when his hand traveled yet lower. Allen smiled at the feel of his lover’s hard phallus against him. With expert movements he made quick work of Kanda’s belt and pants, aware that a rosy red blush was spreading across his face; he had never imagined that he, Allen Walker, would one day be sitting on a bed with a very naked, very aroused, very sexy Kanda Yuu.

The Japanese man, on the other hand, did not seem the least bit frightened by his nudity. Instead he started with Allen’s belt, kissing and caressing as if it were he who knew where things were headed. It was only when the white haired boy’s clothes were discarded that he remembered just how little he knew about the next few moments.

Allen pressed Kanda back into the mattress, slowing his attack. He kissed his mouth, his jaw line, his neck, his chest. With slow, agonizing tenderness he kissed as much of Kanda as he could, dragging his tongue along the more sensitive skin until he came to what he was looking for. The hands in his hair and the soft moaning in his ears encouraged him. His bravery was well rewarded when he closed his lips on Kanda, eliciting a sound like none he had made before.

He liked that sound. He flicked his tongue across the same delicate place again and felt his own need grow when Kanda rolled his hips toward the feeling.

“What do you think, Love?” Allen asked quickly, before taking all of Kanda’s length into his mouth. The Japanese man’s head tilted back into the pillows, his eyes closed, his hands lost in Allen’s hair.

Kanda shook his head and a strangled sound of pleasure escaped him. Words failed to express his enjoyment.

He’s ready, He thought, sucking lightly as he pulled away. The pair of sad, deprived eyes that caught his when he pushed himself up only made him smile. Kanda really did want him. Kanda really did need him. Kanda really wasn’t as cold and inhuman as he tried to be. The shaking hands that clutched at Allen’s shoulders told him as much.

The older Exorcist almost called out when the smaller boy leaned off of the bed to pull open the drawer of the nightstand. Within was a bottle of what looked like massage oil, elegant flowers swirling on the label to the point that his lust filled mind couldn’t actually read it. He could smell it though, when Allen pulled the cork from the bottle and dumped a generous amount into his hand. Kanda watched apprehensively as the smaller boy smeared it over his hands and onto himself before he leaned forward to take Kanda’s mouth with his again, passion driving his moist hands to touch his firm manhood.

Kanda seemed to know what was next. His legs gently parted as one of Allen’s hands touched the inside of his thigh; the other smeared flower scented oil on his chest.

“Love,” Allen’s voice was hoarse, “We don’t have to do this part if you do not want to.”

“Che, idiot Moyashi,” Kanda sat up slightly to kiss him tenderly, touching his face with a gentle hand. “I want you. Every part of you. I trust you.”

I trust you. I want to spend time with you. I want you near me.

Allen nodded and lowered the hand on Kanda’s leg to his opening. He touched imperceptibly at first, remembering the things that he would overhear in the brothels and bars he was taken to as a small child. Easy circles and light kisses gradually encouraged his lover to relax, to grow used to the sensation. When the older boy seemed comfortable enough with just that, Allen slid one finger slowly inside, stopped when Kanda’s breath caught in his throat sharply.

“Stop me if I hurt you.”

“I trust you.”

It took a few moments for Kanda to will himself to relax. Allen made it easier by sucking at his navel, stroking his erection with his free hand. When he became used to the feeling another oiled finger slid in next to the first. He could not say that it was painful as much as uncomfortable at first. It was not long, however, until he grew used to the pressure, used to the feeling of something inside of him. It was then that they moved deeper, causing him a small moment of panic before something more satisfying momentarily engulfed his senses.

Allen smiled at the look of pleasant surprise on Kanda’s face when he found what he was looking for. He removed his fingers and heard his lover whimper quietly, no longer capable of expressing his need in words. He reached for the bottle of oil again, silently thanking God that he had thought buy it the evening before while Kanda napped. After recoating himself generously he took hold of his hips, and positioned himself for what was to come.

He had never done this. He had hardly ever imagined this. Well, he had hardly ever imagined this until recently. But he wanted it more than anything he had ever wanted in his life.

Kanda’s hands came down on his and his intense eyes caught Allen’s. There was no doubt. Allen slowly entered, fighting the urge to ram himself as deep as he could into that tight, hot space. He leaned forward slightly, enough to catch Kanda’s collar bone with a light, nipping kiss. It took all his effort to hold himself back and go about things slowly. The man beneath him took hold of his shoulders, his fingernails biting painfully into Allen’s flesh. Slowly, he pressed inward.

Allen waited a short moment for Kanda’s eyes to open again. He pulled back only to press again unhurriedly, attempting to keep from losing his mind in the pleasure that filled him.

His lover gradually began to take up his rhythm, growing more confident with his actions as he began to take pleasure in the motion. After what felt like a short eternity Kanda slammed into him, increasing their tempo until they matched at a faster pace, his voice growing louder with every thrust. Before Allen knew what was going on he found himself calling out as well, the passion and pressure too much for him to handle otherwise. He wound his fingers around Kanda and began stroking to the rhythm they had established. The man beneath him shuddered with pleasure, his head thrown back, his ebony hair fanned out on the pillow, his expression one of complete rapture. He really was beautiful like that, completely lost in the moment.

Together they pounded toward release; no words of warning came from either of them. Kanda’s back arched away from the bed and toward Allen as he reached his climax; Allen followed him into oblivion shortly after, his breath going out of him a moment later. He collapsed half on the mattress half on his lover, a shiver running up his spine in the suddenly cold room. The sapphire eyes that looked at him, lying on his stomach breathing hard, were perhaps the most wonderful thing he had ever seen, aware like no eyes he had ever seen before. He smiled at them, a small giggle bubbling out of his mouth.

“What’s with the look, Love?” Allen mumbled, reaching up to push the hair off of Kanda’s forehead.

Kanda wet his lips and gathered the smaller boy in his arms, pulling him into an embrace that almost hurt his arms it was so tight. “I love you, Allen Walker.” The boy in his arms chuckled into his chest, vibrating his bones with the sound. “Che, I really do.”

“Kanda Yuu,” Allen muttered into the black silky hair that Kanda was holding him so close too.

“Yes, Allen?”

“I love you too.” He sighed, tilted his head up so he could gaze at Kanda’s flushed, satisfied face. “Now let me sleep on you.”

Kanda smiled broadly and kissed his forehead, reached down to pull the abandoned blankets back up on the bed. “It would be my pleasure.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lavi’s hands were still pressed over his ears, his eye waiting for Sable to give him some sort of sign that the couple had grown quiet enough not to scar him for life. He hadn’t the slightest clue why she seemed immune to the sound, why she could just read her book as if on autopilot with all of that going on in the background. It kind of made him wonder if maybe Miranda was right about her choice of reading material.

She turned to him and mouthed something, then turned back to her book, seeming indifferent. Slowly he pulled his palms away from his ears, glancing back and forth apprehensively when no sound came to them. The night was still.

“I said you can go to sleep now, they’ll be too tired to do anything else until morning. Or noon.” Sable said without looking at him. She flipped a page, frowning.

Lavi sighed and picked up his teddy bear, glad that it hadn’t fallen out of the chair beside him while he held his ears. He really was tired, but he still did not want to take the most comfortable piece of furniture as his own. He was about to suggest that Sable try to sleep in the bed while he curled up on a chair, when she closed her book and looked at him fiercely, glaring daggers.

“Go to bed, Lavi.”

He blinked for a moment. “But I don’t want to take your bed.”

Her face fell and she shook her head at him. I wonder if he knows that he’s lonely or if it’s his subconscious. If Allen and Kanda aren’t going to make anymore noise tonight, he has no reason to be here. He can just go back to his room and sleep in his own bed. And yet he doesn’t. It’s not that he doesn’t know that he can just go back; it’s that he doesn’t acknowledge it. Poor guy. “Fine.” She said it like a curse as she stood up to rip the top blanket off of the bed. “But if you snore at all I’m kicking you out.”

“No! I don’t snore! I’m as quiet as a mouse!”

“Have you ever stepped on a mouse?”

“No…”

“Noisier than lions.” She threw the blanket at him and then crawled onto the bed, turned over so that her face was to the ceiling. “I’m going to try sleeping, so you can stop subconsciously thinking about asking me to.”

Lavi caught the blanket and turned sideways in his plushie chair, more than thankful that she had decided to rest but slightly scared of her reading his mind. It was less creepy though, than if she had done it and not said anything about it like she had with Allen and Kanda.

It was not until he had the blanket tucked firmly around him; his bear snuggled beneath his chin, and his eyes half shut that he realized the light was still on. “Oh,” He ventured, seeing that Sable still had her eyes open, staring at nothing. “Did you want me to get the light?”

She turned her head and looked at the lamp with something of a sad expression before extending her left hand toward it. “Denki,” She whispered – a word for illumination. The lamp flickered momentarily before extinguishing. The darkness that filled the room was as thick a molasses, blocking out the stars behind the curtains.

“Night, Sable-chan.”

“Night, Lavi.”

“And Sable-chan.”

“Yes, Lavi?”

“You’re creepy.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What did you think? I feel like it was… meh… hmm…

--scrolls through her chapter and frowns--

Gah…