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dgray_man2008-09-17 09:35 pm
gilgrado.livejournal.com) wrote in dgray_man2008-09-17 09:35 pm
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I've been in a fanfiction-writing mood. D8! Have another one from me!
Title: Dream On, 1/2
Fandom: D Grayman
Pair/s: Lavi/Yu
Rating: M for sexual situations and language
A/N: This was actually a group of drabbles that ended up making more sense when combined than when they stood alone. Then they developed a sort of plot. I don’t know where this is going at all. A sort of prequel to Words Will Never Hurt Me.
One
If you took an egg without permission – if you stole it, that means – some cultures say that you will be plagued by hiccups until you made peace and confess to your thieving. In others, the severing of a flower in bloom from its bud meant the passage from child to man – in bed. Still, in some cultures, the dog is the animal of the night, prowling to devour the souls of men lost in travel or wander. In others it is the bat, or the snake, or the cloud, and from these superstitions were the seeds of that common human instinct that is fear. Fear of retribution, if not by the hand of a man, then by an Other being; fear of one’s childhood securities being lost in the blossoming into adulthood, or the fear of relishing it in wrongful a manner as many fathers are to think for their daughters’ sake; and the fear of the dark night, when the moon eats the sky and light grows from the shadows. It is from fears that superstitions flourish, and it is from fears that man survives by.
Of course, the time of the present calls for men and women who are willing to bludgeon their way through fear of many kinds – or to simply be without it – in pursuit and accordance of In Hoc Summa, that Jesuit teaching that urges one and all do more for others, regardless of the cost upon their persons.
“Take and receive, Oh Lord, my liberty,” so goes one Christian prayer. “Take all my will, my mind, my memory.” Because they have no choicein the matter, one should say, as well, for the force that chooses these men and women is as unscrupulous as the things it was meant to fight.
How ironic that these things – these cubes of power – are named Innocence, indeed.
-- dated 14 March 18??
Gündelachdtner Hof, St. Georg, Germany
Entry; Lavi
--[break]--
“Are you awake yet?”
The knock on the door, followed by the question just asked, rang hollow inside Lavi’s head. Or, at least, he thought so, as it was ungodly a time in the morning and sleep had just beckoned him to its bosom. The redhead sat up disgruntled, hand to his nape and ruffling his hair.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m up,” he answered, pulling his evening trousers up further his hips as he made his way to the door. “Who is it?”
Bookman’s face greeted Lavi as the door swung open, and held in one arm was a ledger of considerable size and width. He stepped aside to let his elder in, shutting the door behind the man, after.
Lavi checked his pocket watch that was hanging off its chain on the bedpost. “Bookman, it’s three-thirty in the morning. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
The old man opened the ledger, flipping through entire sections until he found the part he was looking for. Then he pointed, with one crooked finger, at a group of paragraphs written in shorthand too close to the paper binding. “Your source?”
Lavi tucked his shoulders to himself. “I felt like writing that down.”
“We have procedures,” Bookman intoned. “First person accounts of information will be detailed chronologically, with each string of information annotated on a separate record for reference. Second-hand information will include source, background, confirmation, everything else that corroborates with the information that proves it true, so on and so forth – you don’t really want to be taught the methods again, right now, do you?”
Lavi fidgeted.
“Your records,” the old man continued, “are not for your fancies.” Bookman dropped the book at Lavi’s feet and made to leave. “I want that log re-written, without your personal input.”
“This log’s over a hundred pages long —“
“— So, you should start now, don’t you think?”
The boy looked longingly at his bed, long after his teacher had left through the bedroom door, and he sighed. He stretched his arms above his head and puttered around, looking for his writing tools and something comfortable to sit on.
He was going to rewrite the log without the journal entry. Even without it, he still had a hundred pages.
Two
At eight in the morning Lenalee almost bounced right into Lavi, as she was skipping her way down the ramp leading from one of the balconies to the hall connecting the main laboratory of the Science Division and the library. She wore her hair loose, that morning, and was wearing a civilian dress instead of the exorcist uniform as was customary for her.
“Did you have any sleep at all?” She asked Lavi, peering into the boy’s face with an expression that made her question rhetoric in spirit. “You should be much more careful of your health, Lavi.”
Lavi shrugged, and again, his shoulders stiff and his neck hurting. “I was…”
“Was?”
“…Writing,” Lavi finished, sheepishly. “Gramps couldn’t read what I wrote in my report, he was mad half the way to hell, you shoulda seen him—“
Lenalee laughed, smiled at him, then beckoned him by tugging his sleeve. “Let’s go get some breakfast, it might do you good.”
“What are we having today, though? If it has anything green in it ‘m not touching it at all!”
“Soba, I would think,” she said, tapping her chin as they walked their way to the stairs. “Kanda’s supposed to be back today. France?”
“France,” Lavi agreed. “With Daisya. Thank God he’s back – Daisya, not Yu – I’ve wanted to play football with someone for the past week and no one wants to.”
“I could—“
“Kick the ball right to my face, too,” Lavi cut her off, waving a hand in apology and rejection. “Not that you’re any good, yeah? You just kick too hard, and then your brother…”
“My brother.”
“Yeah, him. Don’t wanna get on his bad side no more, I don’t.”
“Should keep your eyes up, then, shouldn’t you?” Lenalee smiled, folding her arms to her and giving the redhead a smile, which he returned. “My brother means well.”
“He does, too much though.”
They arrived at the dining hall to find it packed; it was a Saturday morning, and while the weekend didn’t hold the same feeling of restiveness as it would beyond the walls of the Headquarters, the workforce of the Black Order still maintained to the routines they previously held without it. The scientists were taking longer than usual for their morning coffees, the finders engaging each other with news on their week’s traveling, on whose wives were pregnant, or whose sons and daughters made their grim work brighter with mundane achievements. Exorcists currently noncommissioned were lounging, comparing tales of battles with each other, which countries are great to visit, what souvenirs they’ve come back with. Tina Spark waved at Lenalee, then winked at Lavi, before continuing her conversation with Noise Marie. Suman Dark was writing a letter to his child, while Johnny Gil hovered nearby, looking positively harassed with pink earmuffs and eyeglasses more frosted than usual.
The scene looked so domestic that Lavi nearly forgot they were at the cusp of a war for the fate of mankind.
“And what are you two darlings having for breakfast, this morning?” Jerry asked as greeting when they turned to the counter. “Today’s specialties will be Japanese, as I’m sure you’ve expected, but if you’ve any requests I can whip something up.”
“I’d like onigiri, if you have them,” Lenalee said, lower lip tucked into her teeth. “And something chocolate. Maybe fried fruit wrapped in rice wafers, too.”
“Yakiniku and white rice for me, then,” Lavi followed, “and chocolate, too.”
“You both, two sweet or too heavy for your breakfasts,” Jerry replied. “The onigiri and yakiniku I can serve right off, and the chocolate, but the fried fruit would have to wait.”
“I’ll come back for them, then, Jerry, thanks.”
They settled themselves at the far end of the hall, near the large windows that provided grand view of the sea, and Lavi started right away on his meal, while the Chinese girl picked on her riceballs before nibbling into them.
“Kanda’s birthday is next month,” she said, picking stray rice off her cheek. “I remember you asking me about it a while back.”
“Hm? Oh,” the redhead hummed. “Yeah, I know. June sixth, I asked Marie, as well.”
“Are you getting him a gift?” Lenalee asked, looking a good deal amused. “You two barely get along, I mean. Plus he doesn’t exactly like gifts. I tried for a few years.”
“Did he chuck your presents out the window?”
“If he did, my brother would’ve chased him.”
“Thank God you’re merciful, Lena,” Lavi exclaimed, making exaggerated motions with his chopsticks. “Else we’d have all died early.”
“Oh shush, you.”
Ten minutes into their breakfast Kanda Yu came into view, noticeably less damaged than he usually returned as, though his hair-tie had come off and wasn’t yet replaced. The man had obviously changed clothes before coming down to eat, for he was wearing a crisp shirt and freshly laundered trousers, and his face had been scrubbed clean. Lavi took two great bites out of his piece of meat, chewed and swallowed, then with a short look at Lenalee he was out of his seat and making a beeline for the counter.
“Well, you’re back!” The redhead cheerily greeted. “And you’re in better shape than I’ve ever seen you before. Had a good field trip?”
“Leave off, idiot,” Kanda bit out. “I don’t want to vomit so early in the morning.”
“And in front of food, no less,” Lavi jibed. “C’mon, Lenalee’s seated with me, sit with us this morning.”
The older adolescent glared at Lavi, before – grudgingly – accepting the invitation. As soon as he’d sat down Lavi began his habit of questions; where did he go, what did he do, what happened where, how, when and why, and all throughout Kanda answered in short sentences, considering the fact that Lenalee was interested as well, and he was disinclined to be rude both in front and to a woman.
And Lavi never asks him these questions without Lenalee present, but Kanda hasn’t noticed yet.
“You should’ve brought back some candy,” Lavi whined, swilling the last of his chocolate in his mug. “I’d like some galatines right now.”
“Galatines – I think you bought me those once, didn’t you?” Lenalee cut in. “The smooth, milky ones.”
“I hate sweet things,” Kanda groaned, clicking chopsticks together menacingly. “Why would I ever buy them?”
“Buy them for presents, then,” Lavi returned. “You don’t have to eat them to give them away.”
“They’d melt and get sticky and then they’ll be hard to wash off.”
“But you don’t wash your clothes!”
“I’m not getting you anything!”
By ten o’clock they were still in the hall, bickering – or in Lenalee’s case, giggling – over fried fruit, iced chocolate and another bowlful of soba.
Bookman watched them for a moment, then, upon catching Lavi’s attention, called the boy to him.
Lavi excused himself from the group right away.
Three
Blunt nails scraped skin off Lavi’s back as Kanda’s toes curled against the meat of his calves, the balls of Kanda’s feet digging into the coarse sheets. Kanda had his eyes screwed shut, tears smarting at the corners and nearly biting through his lower lip from the intensity of feeling.
“Can you—harder, just a little more—“
“Jesus fucking Christ, Yu, come on,” Lavi urged, his forehead against Kanda’s chest, arms seeking leverage against the mattress. “Give, come on…”
Kanda’s breath hitched, held, and then he keened, head tossing back and deep into the pillow he was rested on, while Lavi hushed him through his orgasm. Kanda’s hands were still scrabbling across Lavi’s shoulders, as if he couldn’t decide between shoving the man off and pulling him close and instead settled on simply scratching the man’s back painfully.
When he finally started to come down he rode out Lavi’s thrusts, until the redhead too came in him, and Kanda wrapped his arms around the other’s shoulders, finally deciding to just hold him, with one hand carding through Lavi’s hair.
“…Get off me,” was the first thing Kanda said, much later, though he still hasn’t taken his arms off the other. “You’re too heavy. Come off me already.”
“God, you’re so romantic.”
They lay there side by side, both out of breath, Lavi with an arm over his eyes and Kanda with his hands rubbing circles on his belly. “You nearly bit through my neck.”
“You’ll heal.”
“Even still,” Kanda complained, as he nursed the now-livid mark on his neck. “Keep your fucking teeth off me.”
“Sure.” A pause. “How was France?”
“Full of French people,” Kanda quipped, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It was easy. Too easy, even. It didn’t feel right.”
“What do you mean?”
“The akuma in the town were too weak,” he made a vague motion with his hands. “Like they were new. Like…”
“Like they were just bait, you mean.”
“I don’t like it.”
Lavi sighed. “No one does, I guess.”
An interminable length of time went by, and after an hour or two of just staring at the ceiling, lost in thought, Kanda curled to Lavi’s side, pulling the coverlet over them. Lavi stopped him.
“I’m not staying.”
“You never do,” Kanda mouthed carefully. “I want you to.”
“Bookman’s going to wonder where I’ve gone.”
“What is he, your father?” The Japanese frowned, ground his teeth out. “It’s my birthday. I want you to stay.”
Lavi, who had pushed himself up on his elbows, now looked at Kanda solemnly. Then chuckled. “I thought you hated me.”
“I do,” he answered, “but you’re the best I could do right now.”
And so Lavi stayed.
Five
“He’s not going to tell me about the flower, Gramps.”
“You’re not asking well enough,” the man said, frustrated. “A little under a year and all you’ve managed is take him to bed, Lavi.”
“It’s not like I’m not trying, alright?” The redhead chucked his bandanna into the hamper, and started to pull his shirt off over his head. His back still had red welts from where Kanda had scratched him. “He doesn’t trust me enough to tell me how he got himself cursed.”
“But enough to welcome you into him,” Bookman returned with a strong look in his eyes. “You won’t capitalize on that trust.”
“He’s also not a girl.” Lavi rolled his shoulders. “Or even a normal guy my age. Unless there’s some cataclysmic battle we can go on to and survive together he’s never going to trust me enough to tell me how he manages to heal up so fast.”
“Find a way, boy.”
“Ask Komui, why don’t you?”
“He doesn’t have half an idea, and the Asia Branch won’t divulge what they know,” Bookman answered. “They’re wary enough not to trust us completely.”
“We weren’t exorcists then.”
“We aren’t exorcists now. Never forget that.”
Lavi grunted, then attempted to apply ointment on his back to soothe the stinging. Bookman moved him to sit, and helped him instead. “The flower’s connected to his lifespan, I’m sure of that now.”
“You saw it?”
“By accident; he left it out for a minute before I had a full view of his room.” He described the flower, the casement, the number of petals, and how guarded Kanda became when he asked about the lotus. “I’ll draw it later, I ran out of parchment.”
“Why does he trust Lavi?”
“He thinks Lavi is an idiot,” the redhead said, turning his head a little. “Or at least a little too careless in the head. He trusts Lavi because at one point or another he’s going to have to trust someone when everyone else isn’t available, like his team members or the Lee siblings. He doesn’t trust much of the other exorcists, he feels they’re threatened or intimidated by him, and he doesn’t want to spend time divesting them of that idea; too much effort, ‘s what he said once.”
“He trusts Lavi because he has no prior history with him,” the Bookman summarized, “and because, as he’s an exorcist like him, they’re on the same side.”
“That’s my guess, yeah.”
“I won’t record guesses.” Bookman set aside the jar of ointment. “Make certain of why.”
“Will do.” Lavi stood and unlocked his bureau, fishing out a clean shirt to change into. “Say, Gramps?”
“Yes, Lavi?”
“We’ve been here almost a year,” he started. “And the war’s not showing signs of starting any time soon. Are we sure on the intelligence on this?”
“There are still a few factors unaccounted for, like Cross Marian’s new student, and the abnormally steady growth in number of akuma for the last two decades.” Bookman opened the bedroom door and made to leave. “It’s projected that we have another year or so before we start seeing the signs of the actual war. Be patient.”
“I’m going mental being stuck as Lavi for this long.”
The old man idled, an unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he closed his eyes and nodded. “You have time.”
Then he left.
Six
“I’ve never kissed a girl before,” Daisya confessed, sheepish. “I mean, not kissed kissed. You can kiss a girl maybe on the cheeks, or the hand, and that’s all and good, but—“
“But the lips,” Lavi finished his sentence for him. “Seriously, though; never?”
“No, man,” the other agreed. “Not yet.”
“Oho, someone’s hopeful!”
“If a massive flirt like you can get any, I can too,” he said, playing with a football by his feet. “Is the rain letting up yet?”
“Ugh, it’s still a drizzle,” Lavi answered. “It’s not pouring out and it’s not stopping either.”
“Sucks to the fucking weather, huh?”
“Yeah, stupid bloody English rain.”
“Hey, Lavi?” Daisya picked up his ball and tucked it back under his arm. “You and Kanda, you’re sort of friends, right?”
“I guess. What makes you say that?”
“Well, he called you while on a mission, months ago,” he said. “He doesn’t do that with anyone else, other than Noise and I.”
“Saw that, huh?” Lavi murmured. “He called to complain on how you were snoring too much.”
“Oh, sod you, Lavi.”
“No thank you, ew,” the redhead replied, laughing. “Nah, actually he called to say you two were done and were coming back.”
“At three in the morning?”
“I don’t sleep much; Gramps keeps me up with reading stuff.” Lavi tapped his nose, then tipped his head. “What were youdoing, up at three?”
“The golem crackled, thought we had a call; then I heard Kanda talking to you. Went back to sleep.”
“How’d you know it was me?”
Daisya deepened his voice a notch, then wore an exaggerated frown. “’You fucking moron, I don’t miss your loud mouth one bit, it’s not why I’m calling.’ Kind of a giveaway, really.”
“That hurts to hear, I’m not so loud.”
“But a moron?”
“Sucks to your face, Daisy.”
“Rabbit!”
The two exorcists continued to wait for the rain to pass, standing there by the window as water pelted the glass. Moments later, a finder ran up to them, and gave Lavi a summons. He opened the note, read it, and groaned.
“For crying out loud.”
Daisya, who had peered over his shoulder, whistled. “Congratulations.”
“You ponce, and I was hoping we could play before I went out on field.”
Lavi was going on his first trip without Bookman, and as an exorcist, in ten days’ time, with the company of Kanda Yu.
Title: Dream On, 1/2
Fandom: D Grayman
Pair/s: Lavi/Yu
Rating: M for sexual situations and language
A/N: This was actually a group of drabbles that ended up making more sense when combined than when they stood alone. Then they developed a sort of plot. I don’t know where this is going at all. A sort of prequel to Words Will Never Hurt Me.
One
If you took an egg without permission – if you stole it, that means – some cultures say that you will be plagued by hiccups until you made peace and confess to your thieving. In others, the severing of a flower in bloom from its bud meant the passage from child to man – in bed. Still, in some cultures, the dog is the animal of the night, prowling to devour the souls of men lost in travel or wander. In others it is the bat, or the snake, or the cloud, and from these superstitions were the seeds of that common human instinct that is fear. Fear of retribution, if not by the hand of a man, then by an Other being; fear of one’s childhood securities being lost in the blossoming into adulthood, or the fear of relishing it in wrongful a manner as many fathers are to think for their daughters’ sake; and the fear of the dark night, when the moon eats the sky and light grows from the shadows. It is from fears that superstitions flourish, and it is from fears that man survives by.
Of course, the time of the present calls for men and women who are willing to bludgeon their way through fear of many kinds – or to simply be without it – in pursuit and accordance of In Hoc Summa, that Jesuit teaching that urges one and all do more for others, regardless of the cost upon their persons.
“Take and receive, Oh Lord, my liberty,” so goes one Christian prayer. “Take all my will, my mind, my memory.” Because they have no choicein the matter, one should say, as well, for the force that chooses these men and women is as unscrupulous as the things it was meant to fight.
How ironic that these things – these cubes of power – are named Innocence, indeed.
-- dated 14 March 18??
Gündelachdtner Hof, St. Georg, Germany
Entry; Lavi
--[break]--
“Are you awake yet?”
The knock on the door, followed by the question just asked, rang hollow inside Lavi’s head. Or, at least, he thought so, as it was ungodly a time in the morning and sleep had just beckoned him to its bosom. The redhead sat up disgruntled, hand to his nape and ruffling his hair.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m up,” he answered, pulling his evening trousers up further his hips as he made his way to the door. “Who is it?”
Bookman’s face greeted Lavi as the door swung open, and held in one arm was a ledger of considerable size and width. He stepped aside to let his elder in, shutting the door behind the man, after.
Lavi checked his pocket watch that was hanging off its chain on the bedpost. “Bookman, it’s three-thirty in the morning. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
The old man opened the ledger, flipping through entire sections until he found the part he was looking for. Then he pointed, with one crooked finger, at a group of paragraphs written in shorthand too close to the paper binding. “Your source?”
Lavi tucked his shoulders to himself. “I felt like writing that down.”
“We have procedures,” Bookman intoned. “First person accounts of information will be detailed chronologically, with each string of information annotated on a separate record for reference. Second-hand information will include source, background, confirmation, everything else that corroborates with the information that proves it true, so on and so forth – you don’t really want to be taught the methods again, right now, do you?”
Lavi fidgeted.
“Your records,” the old man continued, “are not for your fancies.” Bookman dropped the book at Lavi’s feet and made to leave. “I want that log re-written, without your personal input.”
“This log’s over a hundred pages long —“
“— So, you should start now, don’t you think?”
The boy looked longingly at his bed, long after his teacher had left through the bedroom door, and he sighed. He stretched his arms above his head and puttered around, looking for his writing tools and something comfortable to sit on.
He was going to rewrite the log without the journal entry. Even without it, he still had a hundred pages.
Two
At eight in the morning Lenalee almost bounced right into Lavi, as she was skipping her way down the ramp leading from one of the balconies to the hall connecting the main laboratory of the Science Division and the library. She wore her hair loose, that morning, and was wearing a civilian dress instead of the exorcist uniform as was customary for her.
“Did you have any sleep at all?” She asked Lavi, peering into the boy’s face with an expression that made her question rhetoric in spirit. “You should be much more careful of your health, Lavi.”
Lavi shrugged, and again, his shoulders stiff and his neck hurting. “I was…”
“Was?”
“…Writing,” Lavi finished, sheepishly. “Gramps couldn’t read what I wrote in my report, he was mad half the way to hell, you shoulda seen him—“
Lenalee laughed, smiled at him, then beckoned him by tugging his sleeve. “Let’s go get some breakfast, it might do you good.”
“What are we having today, though? If it has anything green in it ‘m not touching it at all!”
“Soba, I would think,” she said, tapping her chin as they walked their way to the stairs. “Kanda’s supposed to be back today. France?”
“France,” Lavi agreed. “With Daisya. Thank God he’s back – Daisya, not Yu – I’ve wanted to play football with someone for the past week and no one wants to.”
“I could—“
“Kick the ball right to my face, too,” Lavi cut her off, waving a hand in apology and rejection. “Not that you’re any good, yeah? You just kick too hard, and then your brother…”
“My brother.”
“Yeah, him. Don’t wanna get on his bad side no more, I don’t.”
“Should keep your eyes up, then, shouldn’t you?” Lenalee smiled, folding her arms to her and giving the redhead a smile, which he returned. “My brother means well.”
“He does, too much though.”
They arrived at the dining hall to find it packed; it was a Saturday morning, and while the weekend didn’t hold the same feeling of restiveness as it would beyond the walls of the Headquarters, the workforce of the Black Order still maintained to the routines they previously held without it. The scientists were taking longer than usual for their morning coffees, the finders engaging each other with news on their week’s traveling, on whose wives were pregnant, or whose sons and daughters made their grim work brighter with mundane achievements. Exorcists currently noncommissioned were lounging, comparing tales of battles with each other, which countries are great to visit, what souvenirs they’ve come back with. Tina Spark waved at Lenalee, then winked at Lavi, before continuing her conversation with Noise Marie. Suman Dark was writing a letter to his child, while Johnny Gil hovered nearby, looking positively harassed with pink earmuffs and eyeglasses more frosted than usual.
The scene looked so domestic that Lavi nearly forgot they were at the cusp of a war for the fate of mankind.
“And what are you two darlings having for breakfast, this morning?” Jerry asked as greeting when they turned to the counter. “Today’s specialties will be Japanese, as I’m sure you’ve expected, but if you’ve any requests I can whip something up.”
“I’d like onigiri, if you have them,” Lenalee said, lower lip tucked into her teeth. “And something chocolate. Maybe fried fruit wrapped in rice wafers, too.”
“Yakiniku and white rice for me, then,” Lavi followed, “and chocolate, too.”
“You both, two sweet or too heavy for your breakfasts,” Jerry replied. “The onigiri and yakiniku I can serve right off, and the chocolate, but the fried fruit would have to wait.”
“I’ll come back for them, then, Jerry, thanks.”
They settled themselves at the far end of the hall, near the large windows that provided grand view of the sea, and Lavi started right away on his meal, while the Chinese girl picked on her riceballs before nibbling into them.
“Kanda’s birthday is next month,” she said, picking stray rice off her cheek. “I remember you asking me about it a while back.”
“Hm? Oh,” the redhead hummed. “Yeah, I know. June sixth, I asked Marie, as well.”
“Are you getting him a gift?” Lenalee asked, looking a good deal amused. “You two barely get along, I mean. Plus he doesn’t exactly like gifts. I tried for a few years.”
“Did he chuck your presents out the window?”
“If he did, my brother would’ve chased him.”
“Thank God you’re merciful, Lena,” Lavi exclaimed, making exaggerated motions with his chopsticks. “Else we’d have all died early.”
“Oh shush, you.”
Ten minutes into their breakfast Kanda Yu came into view, noticeably less damaged than he usually returned as, though his hair-tie had come off and wasn’t yet replaced. The man had obviously changed clothes before coming down to eat, for he was wearing a crisp shirt and freshly laundered trousers, and his face had been scrubbed clean. Lavi took two great bites out of his piece of meat, chewed and swallowed, then with a short look at Lenalee he was out of his seat and making a beeline for the counter.
“Well, you’re back!” The redhead cheerily greeted. “And you’re in better shape than I’ve ever seen you before. Had a good field trip?”
“Leave off, idiot,” Kanda bit out. “I don’t want to vomit so early in the morning.”
“And in front of food, no less,” Lavi jibed. “C’mon, Lenalee’s seated with me, sit with us this morning.”
The older adolescent glared at Lavi, before – grudgingly – accepting the invitation. As soon as he’d sat down Lavi began his habit of questions; where did he go, what did he do, what happened where, how, when and why, and all throughout Kanda answered in short sentences, considering the fact that Lenalee was interested as well, and he was disinclined to be rude both in front and to a woman.
And Lavi never asks him these questions without Lenalee present, but Kanda hasn’t noticed yet.
“You should’ve brought back some candy,” Lavi whined, swilling the last of his chocolate in his mug. “I’d like some galatines right now.”
“Galatines – I think you bought me those once, didn’t you?” Lenalee cut in. “The smooth, milky ones.”
“I hate sweet things,” Kanda groaned, clicking chopsticks together menacingly. “Why would I ever buy them?”
“Buy them for presents, then,” Lavi returned. “You don’t have to eat them to give them away.”
“They’d melt and get sticky and then they’ll be hard to wash off.”
“But you don’t wash your clothes!”
“I’m not getting you anything!”
By ten o’clock they were still in the hall, bickering – or in Lenalee’s case, giggling – over fried fruit, iced chocolate and another bowlful of soba.
Bookman watched them for a moment, then, upon catching Lavi’s attention, called the boy to him.
Lavi excused himself from the group right away.
Three
Blunt nails scraped skin off Lavi’s back as Kanda’s toes curled against the meat of his calves, the balls of Kanda’s feet digging into the coarse sheets. Kanda had his eyes screwed shut, tears smarting at the corners and nearly biting through his lower lip from the intensity of feeling.
“Can you—harder, just a little more—“
“Jesus fucking Christ, Yu, come on,” Lavi urged, his forehead against Kanda’s chest, arms seeking leverage against the mattress. “Give, come on…”
Kanda’s breath hitched, held, and then he keened, head tossing back and deep into the pillow he was rested on, while Lavi hushed him through his orgasm. Kanda’s hands were still scrabbling across Lavi’s shoulders, as if he couldn’t decide between shoving the man off and pulling him close and instead settled on simply scratching the man’s back painfully.
When he finally started to come down he rode out Lavi’s thrusts, until the redhead too came in him, and Kanda wrapped his arms around the other’s shoulders, finally deciding to just hold him, with one hand carding through Lavi’s hair.
“…Get off me,” was the first thing Kanda said, much later, though he still hasn’t taken his arms off the other. “You’re too heavy. Come off me already.”
“God, you’re so romantic.”
They lay there side by side, both out of breath, Lavi with an arm over his eyes and Kanda with his hands rubbing circles on his belly. “You nearly bit through my neck.”
“You’ll heal.”
“Even still,” Kanda complained, as he nursed the now-livid mark on his neck. “Keep your fucking teeth off me.”
“Sure.” A pause. “How was France?”
“Full of French people,” Kanda quipped, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It was easy. Too easy, even. It didn’t feel right.”
“What do you mean?”
“The akuma in the town were too weak,” he made a vague motion with his hands. “Like they were new. Like…”
“Like they were just bait, you mean.”
“I don’t like it.”
Lavi sighed. “No one does, I guess.”
An interminable length of time went by, and after an hour or two of just staring at the ceiling, lost in thought, Kanda curled to Lavi’s side, pulling the coverlet over them. Lavi stopped him.
“I’m not staying.”
“You never do,” Kanda mouthed carefully. “I want you to.”
“Bookman’s going to wonder where I’ve gone.”
“What is he, your father?” The Japanese frowned, ground his teeth out. “It’s my birthday. I want you to stay.”
Lavi, who had pushed himself up on his elbows, now looked at Kanda solemnly. Then chuckled. “I thought you hated me.”
“I do,” he answered, “but you’re the best I could do right now.”
And so Lavi stayed.
Five
“He’s not going to tell me about the flower, Gramps.”
“You’re not asking well enough,” the man said, frustrated. “A little under a year and all you’ve managed is take him to bed, Lavi.”
“It’s not like I’m not trying, alright?” The redhead chucked his bandanna into the hamper, and started to pull his shirt off over his head. His back still had red welts from where Kanda had scratched him. “He doesn’t trust me enough to tell me how he got himself cursed.”
“But enough to welcome you into him,” Bookman returned with a strong look in his eyes. “You won’t capitalize on that trust.”
“He’s also not a girl.” Lavi rolled his shoulders. “Or even a normal guy my age. Unless there’s some cataclysmic battle we can go on to and survive together he’s never going to trust me enough to tell me how he manages to heal up so fast.”
“Find a way, boy.”
“Ask Komui, why don’t you?”
“He doesn’t have half an idea, and the Asia Branch won’t divulge what they know,” Bookman answered. “They’re wary enough not to trust us completely.”
“We weren’t exorcists then.”
“We aren’t exorcists now. Never forget that.”
Lavi grunted, then attempted to apply ointment on his back to soothe the stinging. Bookman moved him to sit, and helped him instead. “The flower’s connected to his lifespan, I’m sure of that now.”
“You saw it?”
“By accident; he left it out for a minute before I had a full view of his room.” He described the flower, the casement, the number of petals, and how guarded Kanda became when he asked about the lotus. “I’ll draw it later, I ran out of parchment.”
“Why does he trust Lavi?”
“He thinks Lavi is an idiot,” the redhead said, turning his head a little. “Or at least a little too careless in the head. He trusts Lavi because at one point or another he’s going to have to trust someone when everyone else isn’t available, like his team members or the Lee siblings. He doesn’t trust much of the other exorcists, he feels they’re threatened or intimidated by him, and he doesn’t want to spend time divesting them of that idea; too much effort, ‘s what he said once.”
“He trusts Lavi because he has no prior history with him,” the Bookman summarized, “and because, as he’s an exorcist like him, they’re on the same side.”
“That’s my guess, yeah.”
“I won’t record guesses.” Bookman set aside the jar of ointment. “Make certain of why.”
“Will do.” Lavi stood and unlocked his bureau, fishing out a clean shirt to change into. “Say, Gramps?”
“Yes, Lavi?”
“We’ve been here almost a year,” he started. “And the war’s not showing signs of starting any time soon. Are we sure on the intelligence on this?”
“There are still a few factors unaccounted for, like Cross Marian’s new student, and the abnormally steady growth in number of akuma for the last two decades.” Bookman opened the bedroom door and made to leave. “It’s projected that we have another year or so before we start seeing the signs of the actual war. Be patient.”
“I’m going mental being stuck as Lavi for this long.”
The old man idled, an unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he closed his eyes and nodded. “You have time.”
Then he left.
Six
“I’ve never kissed a girl before,” Daisya confessed, sheepish. “I mean, not kissed kissed. You can kiss a girl maybe on the cheeks, or the hand, and that’s all and good, but—“
“But the lips,” Lavi finished his sentence for him. “Seriously, though; never?”
“No, man,” the other agreed. “Not yet.”
“Oho, someone’s hopeful!”
“If a massive flirt like you can get any, I can too,” he said, playing with a football by his feet. “Is the rain letting up yet?”
“Ugh, it’s still a drizzle,” Lavi answered. “It’s not pouring out and it’s not stopping either.”
“Sucks to the fucking weather, huh?”
“Yeah, stupid bloody English rain.”
“Hey, Lavi?” Daisya picked up his ball and tucked it back under his arm. “You and Kanda, you’re sort of friends, right?”
“I guess. What makes you say that?”
“Well, he called you while on a mission, months ago,” he said. “He doesn’t do that with anyone else, other than Noise and I.”
“Saw that, huh?” Lavi murmured. “He called to complain on how you were snoring too much.”
“Oh, sod you, Lavi.”
“No thank you, ew,” the redhead replied, laughing. “Nah, actually he called to say you two were done and were coming back.”
“At three in the morning?”
“I don’t sleep much; Gramps keeps me up with reading stuff.” Lavi tapped his nose, then tipped his head. “What were youdoing, up at three?”
“The golem crackled, thought we had a call; then I heard Kanda talking to you. Went back to sleep.”
“How’d you know it was me?”
Daisya deepened his voice a notch, then wore an exaggerated frown. “’You fucking moron, I don’t miss your loud mouth one bit, it’s not why I’m calling.’ Kind of a giveaway, really.”
“That hurts to hear, I’m not so loud.”
“But a moron?”
“Sucks to your face, Daisy.”
“Rabbit!”
The two exorcists continued to wait for the rain to pass, standing there by the window as water pelted the glass. Moments later, a finder ran up to them, and gave Lavi a summons. He opened the note, read it, and groaned.
“For crying out loud.”
Daisya, who had peered over his shoulder, whistled. “Congratulations.”
“You ponce, and I was hoping we could play before I went out on field.”
Lavi was going on his first trip without Bookman, and as an exorcist, in ten days’ time, with the company of Kanda Yu.
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funny and yet nice~~
cant wait for the next one~
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I am particularly interested in drabble-like number 4.
I cringe at the idea, really. If read as a stand-alone fic, it sounds like Lavi is sleeping with Kanda only to get the information of the lotus curse out of him. Ouch. = great great. Such a bitter and angsty piece of information. It really is inspiring me to develop the notion.....I am bit cruel, hm? XD
But with the companion pieces, it seems like Lavi is moving further and things getting a bit out of the original line impossed by the bookman *hopeful*
Great work, really!
*whisper* I am actually hoping you give me permission to also write using the notion of number 4. XO
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please write more for this, they were great, and i want to see where they are going! and thank you for posting!
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The interaction between Lavi and Bookman had everything that I've always been missing in fanfiction. Bookman's tone was kept short and impersonal enough to really sound like a "professionally unattached chronicler", and the way he kept reminding Lavi of the tiny ways in which he might have made a slip (the "we're not exorcists now either" bit) were just... I want to see more of this kind of between-four-eyes talks with Lavi and Bookman in fics, where the writer does it so right I really do.
I'd love to see more pre-series Black Order-central fics overall, I think. From anyone's point of view would be good enough, but somehow I've started to feel like Lavi's point of view would be the most interesting one, when written in the right kind of writing style, which brings up just enough detail and attention to surroundings and emotions... Because then, his viewpoint would include that internal struggle as well as well told story about the people around him. It's hard to find that balance, but I trust you to be one of those who'd be able to do it.
And of course the short smut scene was hot, though I've come to not expect anything else from you ^^b
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Bookman is difficult to portray without making him overly weird or distant, so I guess I agonized over him more than anything in this fic-thing. And he's old, I'm not so good with projecting age with my writing. DX! And I like speculating about pre-series Order, too, it's full of so much fun to play around with XD!~