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D. Gray-man, "Tangled" (Lavi/Allen)
After everyone finds out about the 14th, all Allen wants is just one person he can be with to feel like himself.
Warning: Some angst, some spoilers, some fluff. Mostly fluff. Abstraction and cuteness and questionable judgment calls and total co-dependency ahoy.
Written for a![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
springkink prompt: Lavi/Allen, "security- moments here and there"
.tangled.
All of the Exorcists treated him differently after they learned; Lenalee seemed inescapably sad and concerned, and Kanda colder and more cruel even than usual. Miranda and Crowley were nervous around him, as if they didn't know what to say, or...
Link's presence was reassuring. He was as steady and as impersonal as ever, helpful but never too close, a rock in the windswept landscape that had once been home. But Allen could never quite forget his purpose. Neither of them could.
So his only real comfort was Lavi.
They avoided each other in public. Lavi was supposed to be keeping his distance from the others, he'd confessed, and Allen didn't want Link suspecting that he had anyone to sneak away and see. But that first night after Komui and Leverrier had addressed the Exorcists, Lavi had asked if there was anything he could do, and Allen had confessed his real fear.
When they look at me, it's like they don't see me anymore. I get to thinking maybe they're right -- maybe I'm not me at all. I just need... something to hold onto.
He was holding onto Lavi.
The little meetings late at night in the garden were full of the kind of gossip and joking and laughter that Allen had missed sorely since his isolation had begun, and then a few weeks went by and they grew quieter and more intimate, full of soft breathing and seeking kisses. Then there were more secret encounters, nooks in the hallways and empty rooms where Exorcists who weren't yet might reside.
It was more dangerous, but he never felt quite so confidently himself as he did when he was tangled up in Lavi. And he needed that.
Maybe Lavi needed it too, from the way he leaned into each kiss with a certain urgency, concentrating on each heartbeat he spent searching Allen's mouth, pressed tight against one another. Like he had to make every moment worth it.
"Lavi," Allen managed, turning his head away to breathe. Lavi shifted in further to nuzzle his ear, and Allen swept his hands up, guiding his bandana back so that his red hair fell forward around his face. He always looked -- so much more vulnerable, like this. Less polished. Less masked. "What's... with this intensity?" I thought I was the one who had something to prove, he thought ruefully.
As if to disagree, Lavi leaned in for another kiss, hungry. "I just want you to believe that I'm in this for you," the redhead murmured against his lips. "No one else. No other reason."
The words were like a bolt of lightning, shocking Allen throughout; it was like the older boy knew the heartache that was so heavy in him, knew the way that Mana had betrayed him -- Mana, who Allen had wanted (still wanted) to please more than anyone, ever, in the world, and who all along had been thinking of someone more important to him. But Lavi couldn't know that.
"Bookman--" he started, uncertain.
"Let me handle Gramps," Lavi said, which did not say anything at all, really.
But it hardly even mattered. When they kissed again, the rest of the world didn't matter. Bookman and the legacy Lavi was supposed to embody, Mana and Cross and the dark promise of the 14th...
They were just Allen, and Lavi, and they carved out each stolen moment as theirs.
Warning: Some angst, some spoilers, some fluff. Mostly fluff. Abstraction and cuteness and questionable judgment calls and total co-dependency ahoy.
Written for a
springkink prompt: Lavi/Allen, "security- moments here and there".tangled.
All of the Exorcists treated him differently after they learned; Lenalee seemed inescapably sad and concerned, and Kanda colder and more cruel even than usual. Miranda and Crowley were nervous around him, as if they didn't know what to say, or...
Link's presence was reassuring. He was as steady and as impersonal as ever, helpful but never too close, a rock in the windswept landscape that had once been home. But Allen could never quite forget his purpose. Neither of them could.
So his only real comfort was Lavi.
They avoided each other in public. Lavi was supposed to be keeping his distance from the others, he'd confessed, and Allen didn't want Link suspecting that he had anyone to sneak away and see. But that first night after Komui and Leverrier had addressed the Exorcists, Lavi had asked if there was anything he could do, and Allen had confessed his real fear.
When they look at me, it's like they don't see me anymore. I get to thinking maybe they're right -- maybe I'm not me at all. I just need... something to hold onto.
He was holding onto Lavi.
The little meetings late at night in the garden were full of the kind of gossip and joking and laughter that Allen had missed sorely since his isolation had begun, and then a few weeks went by and they grew quieter and more intimate, full of soft breathing and seeking kisses. Then there were more secret encounters, nooks in the hallways and empty rooms where Exorcists who weren't yet might reside.
It was more dangerous, but he never felt quite so confidently himself as he did when he was tangled up in Lavi. And he needed that.
Maybe Lavi needed it too, from the way he leaned into each kiss with a certain urgency, concentrating on each heartbeat he spent searching Allen's mouth, pressed tight against one another. Like he had to make every moment worth it.
"Lavi," Allen managed, turning his head away to breathe. Lavi shifted in further to nuzzle his ear, and Allen swept his hands up, guiding his bandana back so that his red hair fell forward around his face. He always looked -- so much more vulnerable, like this. Less polished. Less masked. "What's... with this intensity?" I thought I was the one who had something to prove, he thought ruefully.
As if to disagree, Lavi leaned in for another kiss, hungry. "I just want you to believe that I'm in this for you," the redhead murmured against his lips. "No one else. No other reason."
The words were like a bolt of lightning, shocking Allen throughout; it was like the older boy knew the heartache that was so heavy in him, knew the way that Mana had betrayed him -- Mana, who Allen had wanted (still wanted) to please more than anyone, ever, in the world, and who all along had been thinking of someone more important to him. But Lavi couldn't know that.
"Bookman--" he started, uncertain.
"Let me handle Gramps," Lavi said, which did not say anything at all, really.
But it hardly even mattered. When they kissed again, the rest of the world didn't matter. Bookman and the legacy Lavi was supposed to embody, Mana and Cross and the dark promise of the 14th...
They were just Allen, and Lavi, and they carved out each stolen moment as theirs.
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anyway, it's a really nice fic, awesome job ^^