Title: Bye, Baby Bunting, Daddy’s Gone A-Hunting*
Rated: NC-17
Pairing: KandaxAllen
Word count: 4900+
Warnings: CRACK. Um. Sex. Sad attempts at humor. No trace of plot. The usual suspects >_>;; Unbeta’d and probably brimming with mistakes
Comments: This was originally based on a kink meme prompt I saw somewhere about Cross going after Kanda with a hammer for dating Allen and being a surprisingly protective mother hen… as such, this is probably grossly OOC and TOTAL CRACK D: Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking either lol
*Title from the Mother Goose rhyme
–
Allen decided he didn’t much care for adolescence. As a necessary stage in a human’s physical and emotional growth, Allen understood it was an ideal excuse for teenagers to be as unruly and rebellious as possible—which didn’t much fit into the lifestyle of an exorcist (except for his teacher, who’d made a career of being unruly and rebellious).
Anyway, Allen found adolescence to be, as a whole, rather inconvenient. For instance, it was generally not a good idea to spring an erection in the middle of a fight with a comrade, who just happened to be really good at pinning his opponents down. It was also probably detrimental for his overall physical well-being to harbor any kind of attraction to people whose names started with a ‘K’ and ended in ‘anda’.
But neither logic nor self-preservation was a priority for newly awakened hormones.
In any case, Allen counted himself lucky that the object of his attraction seemed to be suffering similar symptoms.
And there he was now, as Lavi half-dragged Allen and his parade of dishes across the cafeteria to where Kanda had taken his dinner. Lenalee led the way, as if seeking Kanda’s company had to be a shared experience. For their efforts, Kanda rewarded each of them in turn with a glare. Having to divide his irritation between the three of them did nothing to dilute its potency.
Mindless conversation seemed to be a talent of Lavi’s so Allen left him to it because food was one passion he was well familiar with. He still had half a dozen bowls to work through and a full stomach was something that would never stop being novel. Meals had been rationed in the circus and, afterwards, General Cross hadn’t made feeding him a priority.
Not that Allen resented him for it. If he needed a reason to hold a grudge, hunger would hardly top the list.
“Allen, slow down. The food’s not going anywhere.” Lavi’s fingers rested against his stomach, five points of warmth through the cotton of his shirt. “Where do you keep it all?” His laughter turned into a yelp as Kanda’s elbow connected with his shoulder.
“Move aside, you idiot.” Kanda stood with empty bowl and utensils in hand and disentangled himself from the table and the proximity of his comrades with little care for their limbs.
Allen tracked his departure through his rising stacks of dishes. The line of Kanda’s shoulders, the curve of his back, the absurd ponytail that seemed to convey arrogance in little more than the way it swayed as Kanda moved—Allen catalogued these details with helpless admiration. Because as much of a disagreeable jerk as Kanda was, he was also a formidable exorcist and Allen knew how to appreciate an ally.
Yes, he very much appreciated how ridiculously, stupidly pretty Kanda was. And his battle prowess. Of course. It was a shame the same couldn’t be said of his temperament.
Kanda reached the entrance to the cafeteria and paused, glancing back just long enough to catch Allen’s eye. A tightening of his lips, a twitch of his brow and then he was gone.
“Does Yu seem more caustic than usual?”
Allen shrugged and finished the rest of his food with record speed. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and ignored the look on Lavi’s face, as if he were expecting to hear the resulting boom of Allen breaking the sound barrier. He offered Lenalee an apologetic smile before making his exit.
After two flights of stairs and a dirty knee from tripping in his haste, Allen rounded the corner leading to Kanda’s room and found himself shoved up against the stone wall, a hand clamped around his throat.
“Took you long enough.” Kanda’s grip loosened, his hand sliding downward, fingers skimming the tense muscles of Allen’s neck. Nails scraped lightly over the ridge of his clavicle.
Allen snorted. “It was hardly a min—”
“Shut up,” he growled.
And, for once, Allen listened because he had little choice with Kanda’s mouth against his. Kanda’s kisses were rough and unrefined, threaded with the focused intent of learning an unfamiliar technique. This clumsy press of skin, this exchange of breath and quiet gasps, it was still new enough for both of them that every kiss was like the mapping of a battle—the slide of wet skin and the nip of teeth, an experiment in action and reaction.
Fingers tangled in his hair and Kanda’s palm, rough from long hours cradling the hilt of a sword, pressed with little gentleness along his cheekbone as he angled Allen’s head to deepen the kiss. He tasted like tea and soba, spice and heat turning Allen into the awkward teenager he would have been without his innocence. Kanda curled his tongue around his and Allen felt his knees waver.
A soft crackle like the sound of crinkled newspaper—or static—sounded to their left.
“Hey, Idiot Apprentice!”
Allen’s eyes flew open and he jerked back—his head hit the wall with a crack. “Oooow.” He dropped to a crouch, hands cupping the back of his head.
Wings flapping as it hovered nearby, Kanda’s golem cheerfully broadcasted Cross Marian’s latest transmission: “Go tell Komui about that time in India with the snake charmer and the lemon grass. He needs the bill broken down in detail.”
“Son of a bitch.” Kanda drew away and passed a hand over his face. “This is getting really fucking old. Whatever the hell you did to piss him off, fix it.”
With his cheeks flushed and lips still damp, ponytail drooping just an inch, Allen cared less about ‘fixing’ a problem that didn’t exist and more about running his hands through all that dark hair. But Kanda was giving him that pinched look that bordered on homicidal and Allen sighed, giving him a helpless shrug.
“Kanda,” he said, reaching out.
“Don’t bother,” Kanda said. He turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway.
+++
There were a great many things Allen had never understood about his teacher. For the most part, he was content in his ignorance. A bit of illumination wouldn’t have been unwelcome, but Allen preferred to believe that Cross Marian was a man of eccentricities—thus making General Cross the anomaly and not Allen for twitching in uncontrollable ways every time the word ‘debt’ was mentioned in passing.
Case in point, his teacher had recently taken to addressing Allen over the golem network, his messages transmitted to every exorcist within a twenty-mile radius of Headquarters:
“Hey, Idiot Apprentice, hurry up and pay the tab at the Golden Girdle so I can go back.”
“Hey, Idiot Apprentice, I need coffee. Send Lenalee to me.”
“Hey, Idiot Apprentice, just because my exceptional tastes haven’t rubbed off on you is no reason to be bitter. Stop complaining about me or I’m telling everyone about that time with the chocolate cake and the leather belt.”
“Hey, Idiot Apprentice, tell your lady friend with the sword that he’d be prettier if he were actually a girl.”
For that one, Allen had had to physically restrain Kanda, who’d already drawn Mugen and started invocating the second illusion.
Why General Cross was suddenly so intent on disrupting Allen’s life at the Order was a mystery—one that, despite Kanda’s numerous threats, Allen was reluctant to confront his teacher about. General Cross had little reason for doing much of anything, other than that it suited his quirks. Allen suspected this latest bout of lunacy was born from the General’s confinement at Headquarters and would pass as soon as the Head Generals released him.
+++
Again on the matter of adolescence (because, according to Bak who Allen wasn’t entirely sure was a reliable source, teenagers were very fixated):
Despite being a seventeen-year-old virgin, on account of having never felt like a normal teenager, Allen thought it only fair that he should be exempt from having to deal with emerging… impulses. After all, Kanda was a twenty-year-old virgin who’d successfully bullied his way through adolescent hormones (although Kanda would probably attribute it to having ‘discipline’ even if Allen knew Kanda was just too damn stubborn to ever let his body control him).
It helped, of course, that their jobs often kept them too busy to even think about such trivial things. But with half the exorcists on enforced vacations due to the lull in missions, Allen now had far too much time for aimless thoughts and disturbing streams of consciousness that usually flowed like so:
Hungry… must find food… hmm, noodles… Kanda likes noodles.
Or: Training… exhausted… I bet sex would be exhausting… mm, sex with Kanda.
Or: Hood to cover hair… wish I had normal hair… like Kanda… Kanda’s hair is sexy. Damn it.
Allen could recall little of how the madness began. He remembered wandering, without a solid destination in mind, into the area of forest where Kanda had been training. His presence alone had been enough to spark a fight between them and it had spiraled downward from there. Without anyone nearby to temper them, the fight had gone from an angry duel to a wild brawl to a graceless heap of grinding hips and clawing nails. Exactly who had initiated the shift between them, Allen couldn’t say.
Afterwards, Kanda had combed his fingers through his tangle of hair, dislodging leaves and twigs, and calmly threatened Allen with evisceration if he mentioned the incident to anyone. Allen, who’d been a hair’s breadth away from swallowing his pride and confessing he’d always found Kanda simultaneously infuriating and magnetic, had instead countered with his own threats. The disappointment had been unsettling, but Allen was no novice to rejection and he’d left, believing the matter to be over.
Until Kanda had cornered him outside his room a week later with angry invectives about bean sprouts with crazy white hair and curses. He’d given Allen a chance to object—which Allen had politely declined by ripping the shirt off Kanda’s back—before Kanda had attacked his neck and mouth and chest and… well, they’d redefined ‘quick and dirty.’
Unfortunately, the next day, General Cross had launched his campaign to drive Allen insane via public humiliation and they’d hardly had a moment since that hadn’t been disrupted by an inane command from the nearest golem. Loath as he was to consider it, Allen was beginning to suspect foul play.
+++
Timcanpy gave him a baleful look as Allen slid the door shut and bolted it in place. He disliked having to lock it out, but the golem was practically a window to Allen for General Cross. The last thing Allen wanted for what he’d planned was an audience.
Kanda’s golem buzzed noisily against the other side of the door for a second before falling silent. Allen sighed in relief.
“… This is your brilliant plan?”
Allen ignored Kanda’s dry remark and quickly shed the towel from around his hips. The room was small, the bathtub filling the majority of the space. Kanda was already reclining in the hot water, watching Allen climb into the tub, his dark eyes trekking lazily down Allen’s chest.
“I heard General Cross leave with General Tiedoll for London. But they won’t be gone long so we have to hurry.”
The bathhouse had been the logical choice for them to meet. No one would bother them there and Allen admitted the prospect of Kanda wet and naked might have had something to do with it as well. Possibly.
Without preamble, Allen reached out, fingers pushing into loose black hair, and pressed his mouth to Kanda’s. And then any thought of Cross and what the idiot man was doing to his personal life dissolved under the hot slide of Kanda’s tongue. Having a personal life at all was still such a strange and wondrous thing, something Allen wanted to cup in his hands and hold close, hoard away and keep under glass where it’d be safe but freely available for him to admire.
It felt brittle and Allen didn’t like thinking that anything between him and Kanda could be categorized as fragile.
So, “Stand up, Kanda.”
He pulled away, not out of reach but just enough to give Kanda room. Kanda pushed to his feet, long hair plastered wetly to the dip of his back, the slender lines of his waist. Standing, the bathwater reached mid thigh and Allen felt his cheeks flush, his mouth water, at the sight.
Kanda crossed his arms. “I thought you said we have to hurry.”
Allen swallowed thickly before nodding. “Right,” he said, and dropped to his knees.
He rested one hand against Kanda’s stomach, the muscles tightening beneath his palm, and dragged his lips up the skin of Kanda’s inner thigh. He pressed his nose into the indentation where thigh met groin, flicked his tongue out to trace the seam of muscle up to the cut of his hipbone.
Cool fingers fisted in his hair and Kanda muttered a strangled, “Bean sprout,” before he dragged Allen away from sucking lightly at random patches of wet skin and shoved his face into his erection. Allen didn’t mind the rough treatment—it was expected between them, as if they could convey twice as much through bruising grips and stinging bites. Kanda was graceful; he was fluid and powerful and all the things Allen admired in a comrade, but he didn’t know if Kanda knew how to be gentle.
And it didn’t matter anyway as Allen pressed quick, light kisses up Kanda’s cock. He opened his mouth, ran his tongue along the thick underside, tasted the tip with eager lips before sucking him down and listening with two parts dizzying desire and one part smug satisfaction at the way Kanda moaned. His hand tightened in Allen’s hair, wrist guiding him up and down, hissing briefly at careless teeth, Allen’s hands on his hips the only thing keeping him from bucking into Allen’s mouth.
With a groan, Allen tugged away and winced when Kanda’s fingers twisted against his scalp, ripping several hairs loose.
“Ow, geez, just wait. I don’t want you to finish yet.”
“Walker, you asshole,” Kanda said, voice low and gravelly in a way that made Allen’s toes curl. “If you don’t put your mouth back, I’m going to kill you.”
Allen scoffed. “I’m sure you’d rather have it somewhere else than in my mouth,” he said as he bent over the tub to reach his jacket. He tugged out the small bottle before turning back and around and presenting it to Kanda with a triumphant grin.
Kanda gave him a glare that fell distinctly short due to the way he was sagging against the rim of the tub. His chest and cheeks were flushed pink, hair falling in wet disarray around him. “What the hell is that?”
Allen rolled his eyes and uncapped the bottle himself. He poured a liberal amount over his fingers before setting the bottle on a narrow counter just to the side. He smirked at Kanda before fully standing in the tub and reaching back to push a finger into himself.
Kanda’s eyes grew wide. Allen would have laughed except Kanda’s cock had visibly jerked when he realized just exactly what Allen was doing. The promise of where that would soon go made Allen’s eyes roll back.
“… what are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” He pushed another finger in and moaned, not because it felt particularly good but because of the effect it had on Kanda. Kanda made a strangled sound and glowered, looking pissed and horny and why that should turn Allen on so much, he had no idea.
“Why?” Kanda almost choked on the word.
Allen didn’t know what he was so flustered about. It was inevitable that they’d eventually reach this point; Allen was just pushing it along a bit more quickly. Kanda was in no position to complain.
“I want to take advantage of Cross being gone. Come on, aren’t you sick of being a virgin already?” A third finger and the discomfort began to fade. He bit his lip and pushed experimentally down against his fingers. It wasn’t so bad.
Kanda had grown steadily redder as he watched Allen’s lewd display. He’d braced his weight against the side of the tub, one hand clenching and unclenching against his thigh as his other pulled slowly at his cock, the head swollen and wet. Allen swallowed. The sight was enough to make him want to be back on his knees, to part his lips and bathe it with his tongue, to make Kanda shout and remember his name was Allen, Allen, Allen and not ‘bean sprout’.
Instead, he twisted his lips into a smirk and said, “But if you’re too scared to do it, I guess I could always ask Lavi.”
“Don’t you ever shut up?” Kanda snapped before lunging forward and dragging Allen against him.
Allen pulled his fingers away and whispered, “Fuck me,” against Kanda’s mouth. The effect was immediate. Kanda groaned and kissed him, open mouthed and devouring and Allen felt lost in the vertigo.
“Nnnnff,” he said before he reached out blindly for the bottle of oil. He shoved it at Kanda. “Put it on yourself.”
He felt Kanda take it from him before he stumbled away a step to bend over the edge of the tub, hands braced against the wall and legs parted.
“Where’d you get this anyway?” Kanda asked. He sounded short of breath.
“From Jerry.”
“What?”
“Just shut up and hurry.” He glanced back to where Kanda had finished coating himself and discarded the empty bottle.
For some godforsaken reason, Kanda paused, his gaze riveted to the backside Allen had presented him with. Allen wiggled his hips impatiently.
“Do it,” he said through his teeth.
He closed his eyes when Kanda’s hands finally slipped around his hips. Lips and teeth nipped at his spine and he arched his back, pushing back against Kanda until he felt Kanda’s cock slide between the cradle of his buttocks. Kanda dug his nails into Allen’s hips before smoothing his palms up wet skin to splay against the small of his back. His fingers danced along his spine, retracing the path of his lips.
Kanda leaned forward, nudged his nose into the soft hollow of skin beneath Allen’s jaw. Allen felt a warm tongue trace swirls against the skin of his neck. He swallowed with difficulty; he wanted to ask what Kanda was doing, why he was suddenly giving him what he would have never dared to ask for—a lover’s caress. It was terrifying and exhilarating and Allen wanted nothing more than to know what Kanda was thinking.
But asking, any verbal acknowledgment at all, Allen thought, would ruin the moment and push them firmly back into their predefined roles. So he dropped his head back and turned just enough to nuzzle Kanda’s hair, to breathe in his scent of clean soap and earthy forest. Kanda slid rough palms up his back, over his shoulders and down his chest, his fingers curling briefly over his stomach, dragging blunt nails over his belly, before finally wrapping around him.
With his other hand, Kanda reached back to position himself. Allen groaned at the first push, but Kanda’s hand continued to move over his cock, a sharp counterpoint to the discomfort of being stretched. His thighs trembled and Kanda’s arm slid forward, wrapping securely around his waist, molding his chest to Allen’s back as he thrust forward.
Allen cried out, nearly biting his lip bloody and, again, Kanda grew still save for the steady stroking of his hand. Allen dragged in a ragged breath of air, reveling in the feel of Kanda all around him, chest to back, thigh to thigh, Kanda’s body draped over and in his like a second skin.
“K-Kanda.” He clutched at the arm hugging him as his other hand reached back to score his nails into the back of Kanda’s thigh and urge him to move.
It was all the coaxing Kanda seemed to need. His arm tightened around Allen’s waist, holding him in place as his hips snapped forward in deep, sharp thrusts. Kanda’s breath was hot against his shoulder—quick, quiet pants that made Allen want to cover his mouth and drag more audible sounds from him. His hair swayed as he moved, inky strands clinging to Allen’s arms and back, curling around his sides in a bizarre semblance of possession.
The tenderness seemed to have passed because Kanda’s hips and the thick slide of his cock inside Allen were anything but gentle. Allen pushed back against each rough thrust, nails digging crescents into the skin of Kanda’s forearm. He clenched his buttocks, felt triumph in the way Kanda cursed against his neck and pushed even deeper.
The water pulsed in waves around them, rebounding off the walls of the tub to lap at their legs. The tumult of waves sprang up between them, amplifying the wet slap of skin on skin. He felt teeth against his shoulder and he moaned Kanda’s name into the humid air. In response, Kanda’s rhythm faltered, grew frantic, Allen’s name a soft growl on his lips.
It was heady, hearing Kanda unravel behind him, inside him. Fiery temper aside, Allen knew Kanda valued order, liked the control he had on his otherwise unpredictable life as an exorcist. He could feel the threads of Kanda’s control come loose in the jerk of his hips, the way his lips passed without pause over the nape of Allen’s neck, the way his fingers tightened around Allen’s cock, just holding it between thrusts before he remembered to continue stroking.
Allen felt lightheaded and overheated, delirious with pleasure, Kanda’s body like a brand against his back, so good so good—
The door exploded inward, taking half the wall with it. Kanda dropped to his knees in the water, dragging Allen down with him, his body curling over Allen’s to shield him from the flying debris.
“What the…?” Allen shoved Kanda’s arm aside and sputtered as water splashed into his open mouth. He blinked through the settling dust.
Cross Marian stood in the ruined doorway, his gun smoking. He watched the two of them through a single narrowed eye.
“Huh,” he said, before cocking the hammer on his gun. “I thought so.”
Allen saw red. He would have lunged forward, Crown Clown activated in all his wet, naked glory, if Kanda hadn’t tightened his arm around Allen’s waist. As it was, Allen just barely refrained from snapping Kanda’s arm to get to Cross.
“That’s it! I’ve had enough! I’m not your pupil anymore, you… you maniac!” He shoved Kanda off of him with more force than was necessary. Luckily, Kanda was too busy glaring a hole through Cross’s chest to be bothered by it. He winced as Kanda slid out of him. Then he reached for his jacket and dragged it over himself as he stood. “Why can’t you find someone else to torture? And why are you still standing there? Get. Out!”
Cross barely spared him a glance. “Shut up, Idiot Apprentice. You,” he said, and pointed his gun at Kanda. “We need to have a talk.”
Kanda didn’t flinch. He stared down the barrel of the gun before nodding curtly. Cross seemed satisfied with this because he holstered his innocence.
“Get dressed, Idiot Apprentice, you look obscene.”
Allen flushed with renewed anger, but Cross stepped from the room before Allen could start shouting at him again. He swallowed back the furious knot in his throat and turned to Kanda, who’d risen from the water.
Kanda wrapped a towel around his hips and Allen noted with deep regret that he was no longer hard. Stupid, infuriating, crazy…
“Look… I’m sorry about General Cross—”
“Why are you apologizing, Bean sprout?”
“B-because… actually, what did he mean by that? What do you two need to talk about?”
“Mind your own business. I can handle lunatic generals.” Kanda waved his hand in a dismissive gesture before stalking from the ruined bathhouse.
Allen stood in his wake, dripping a puddle into the dust and wondering how best to get away with the maiming of a general. Maybe he could blame it on the fourteenth…
+++
Allen found comfort the best way he knew how—with food. Lavi sat across from him, eyeing with a worried crease of his brow the growing pile of dirty plates.
“You sure you’re okay, Allen?”
“I’m fine,” Allen said. He offered Lavi a bright smile to bolster the lie before returning to his food. Jerry really was a cooking genius.
Not for the first time, Allen wished he could make sense of his teacher. Eccentricity just wasn’t enough of an excuse for blowing up half a bathhouse and interrupting his former pupil in the middle of mind blowing, frantic, sweaty sex. His groin twitched in memory and he whimpered before dropping his head onto the table with a loud thud.
“Um. Allen?”
He felt Lavi poke his shoulder. “Just tired,” he mumbled into the tabletop. Lavi gave a skeptical snort before excusing himself, probably to find Lenalee and recruit her assistance in making Allen talk.
But Allen couldn’t expend the energy right then to worry about that. For all the things he didn’t understand about Cross Marian, there were twice as many that he did. A bystander might not have been able to tell but Allen had known immediately that General Cross had been furious. And with Kanda, no less, although he had yet to work out why. When he’d pointed his gun at Kanda, Allen knew that General Cross had had every intention of pulling the trigger if Kanda hadn’t agreed to a talk.
General Cross’s anger, at the time, had seemed irrelevant next to Allen’s own. But now, with the benefit of perspective, Allen had trouble pinpointing where exactly Cross’s anger could have stemmed from. Kanda was known to be less than deferential to the generals, but he did acknowledge, however grudging, their rank over his. As far as Allen could determine, there was very little Kanda could have done to General Cross to warrant such an explosive response.
The man had interrupted every attempt Allen and Kanda had made to be alone for a solid three weeks and when they’d finally gotten the chance, Cross had blown apart the door and pointed a gun at Kanda’s head. It was as if he were deliberately trying to keep them apart…
(“Huh. I thought so.”)
Allen abruptly sat up. “Impossible…” General Cross hadn’t been angry with Allen (that he could tell). Which implied…
“Heh. Haha. Hahaha. No way. That’s ridiculous.”
Allen cupped his head, which was beginning to hurt. Perhaps General Cross hadn’t been wiling away his boredom by torturing Allen after all… perhaps he’d been trying to protect Allen’s… innocence. And not the holy kind.
The thought made him dissolve into a fit of less-than-sane laughter. It was hardly surprising that Cross trying to protect Allen seemed to be synonymous with ruining his life at the Order, and consequently sabotaging his newfound appreciation for sex. With Kanda.
Maybe it was that last part that bothered his teacher. Was Cross Marian disappointed Allen wasn’t fumbling around in bed with a girl instead? It was a possibility.
“Oh god,” he said before dropping his head back down onto the table. His empty plates clattered at the impact.
He sat in a stupor for an indefinite amount of time, hearing little else but the buzzing in his ears, until familiar footsteps entered the cafeteria.
Allen chanced a glance and winced. Kanda looked livid. He drew back, prepared to invocate his arm, as Kanda stalked toward him and reached out to haul him off the bench by the back of his jacket.
“Hey! What happened with General Cross?” Allen’s eyes widened at the scorch marks on Kanda’s jacket. His coattails were still smoking. “Did he attack you?! I’ll kill him!”
“I’m fine, Bean sprout. I don’t need you getting angry on my behalf. I can handle him myself.”
Aside from his singed jacket, he appeared otherwise unharmed. His words, despite their harsh delivery, helped put Allen at ease. Allen was so relieved, he didn’t fight as Kanda manhandled him out of the cafeteria and down the hallway.
“Well?” Allen said after Kanda had pulled him up two flights of stairs and still hadn’t said anything. “What happened?”
“General Cross and I came to an understanding.”
Allen grimaced. “What… what kind of understanding?”
Kanda’s shoulders stiffened. “He will accept our… dating,” he said the word with such distaste that Allen couldn’t help but grin, “so long as I don’t touch you again until you’re thirty.”
Allen dug in his heels and pulled free of Kanda’s grip. “Wait, wait, wait. You mean he really has been just… protecting me? From you?” Allen’s hands fisted. He’d suffered weeks of humiliation, having to apologize profusely to every exorcist and finder for hours after each absurd transmission, because of some misguided attempt to protect his virtue?
Kanda crossed his arms. “Yes. He’s an imbecile. I see where you got it from now.” He latched onto Allen’s neck again and pulled him back along the hall.
“…until I’m thirty… What the hell kind of…? What was that idiot thinking?”
Kanda didn’t reply and Allen finally had the presence of mind to notice that the route Kanda had been dragging him along was the quickest path to Kanda’s room.
“Uh. Kanda. Did… did you agree with him?”
“Yes.”
Allen’s shoulders slumped. “Then what are we doing?”
“Disobeying him.”
Allen smirked, inordinately pleased, and tugged away, beating Kanda to his room.
Cross would probably murder them both. But it would be worth it.
The End