An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary:
Months of silence follow every encounter that Kanda has with Allen Walker, and with each meeting that passes, those months grow harder; he knows that their connection is dangerous, that the gravity between them will be his undoing, but he isn't sure that there's a way to stop the inevitable impact. He's never believed in fate, but there's something about them that just feels...inescapable.
Posting this just in time before the week ends!
Gotta love a just slightly unhinged Allen Walker, especially when his charm could almost make you believe he isn't.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
He doesn't expect it, really, but how could he? Allen Walker left the states over a decade ago, and they never kept in touch; Lena did, it’s the only reason he knew that Walker never ended up dead in a ditch, but otherwise he had no clue what was happening over on the other side of the ocean.
So when he’s manning the till at his shop, slowly flipping through a landscaping catalog, and the door to the entrance sweeps open with a warm gust of wind, he doesn't expect a decade old acquaintance to walk in.
Allen sighs, sweeping a hand under his hair to move it from his neck, and he looks so extraordinarily different from sixteen that Kanda wouldn't recognize him were it not for the pale, thin scar running down his left cheek. Those eyes, too - a striking silver blue - are uniquely his.
He’s…fucking stunning. His hair reaches his shoulders - just brushes them, really - and his face has lost a lot of its previous softness. He’s pretty, in a dangerous way, but it's mixed with something inherently masculine that Kanda never thought he’d see in the short-stack.
He is very, very, very gay. Allen left when he was sixteen, and Kanda had never really noticed how he looked. Or he had, but it had been in passing - Allen was still a kid at the time.
Kanda realizes he’s stupidly staring a moment too late. Allen’s gaze locks on him; he squints, then gasps loudly.
“Kanda?!”
Kanda straightens, absently tucking his bangs behind his ear to keep them out of his eyes, and clears his throat. “Short-Stack. It’s been a while.”
Allen pouts, and it's undeniably cute. He really isn’t as short as he used to be, or at least he’s taller than Kanda remembers. There’s still a height difference, but Kanda judges that he's probably standing at a solid 5’10. “Did you actually forget my name this time?”
Kanda huffs a laugh, and Allen’s eyes widen a bit, almost like he’s shocked. “I couldn't. You reminded me every fucking day.”
“Because you always called me Short-Stack!”
Allen stomps his foot, petulant but clearly joking, and walks up to the counter. “Unbelievable! Ten years and you still give me shit before you greet me!” That petulance turns into a grin and a sigh. “It's good to see you.”
Kanda returns his grin with a small version of his own. “Good to see you too, ‘Sprout. Now what the fuck are you doing in my shop?”
“Did you just…did you say that it's good to see me? Are you Kanda’s twin brother? What's the opposite of an evil twin?”
Kanda rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Idiot. Ten goddamn years have passed. People change - I've become moderately less shitty. Or so I've been told.”
“And you're funny, too. Oh my god. This is the twilight zone.” Allen looks confused beyond all reason, and it makes Kanda wonder just what sort of image Allen kept in his mind of him for the last decade. “I - well, I won't complain. I actually came by for an arrangement. You work here?”
“I own here,” Kanda stresses, flipping his catalog closed and tossing it to the side. He straightens his apron before walking around the counter. “What do you need?”
“You…own this place?” Allen looks around in wonder. “It’s amazing. Congratulations. I bet Tiedoll loves it here.”
“Unfortunately. He’s in here trying to run the place at least twice a week.”
Allen laughs, a soft, comforting sound, and shakes his head. “Wow. I miss him - hopefully I’ll get to see him.”
Kanda still wants to know what the fuck Allen wants in his arrangement, but his curiosity gets the better of him. “What? Not staying in town?”
He gets a shrug in response. “I'm visiting. I won't be here too long. I was actually going to see about meeting up with you guys - I was lucky to run into you here.”
Kanda wants to press him on the reason he’s visiting, but supposes he can wait. “Hm. Right. Well, what the fuck do you want in your arrangement?”
Allen strolls through the shop, arms behind his back. “Something to say…I’m sorry.”
Kanda rolls his shoulders before grabbing his iPad from the counter and unlocking it. “Be more specific, Short-Stack.”
Allen huffs. “In what way?”
“Is the shit serious or no?”
“Depends on your definition. Is there a medium serious?”
Kanda swipes through his catalog, tapping on various flowers and greenery as he does. “Funny,” he returns drily. “You alright with cool colors?”
“Hell yeah - I love a rad color scheme.”
“I fucking hate you. Find another florist,” he murmurs, but he keeps swiping through his iPad.
“But this one is so pretty.”
Kanda feels his face heat against his will, gaze snapping away from his device to glare at Allen. He opens his mouth to respond with something snarky, but comes up short; Allen looks confident, almost smug, as he leans against the front counter. It’s a devilishly handsome look on him.
“Ah! I made you speechless. How darling.”
Kanda takes a deep breath to calm himself. “Do you want a fucking arrangement or not? Stop fucking mocking me.”
Allen’s eyebrows raise. “I'm not mocking you. And yes, sorry. Forgot you can't take some teasing.”
Kanda rolls his eyes despite the way his heart violently thumps in his chest. Allen is still an asshole. “Hyacinths, lily of the valleys, roses, and orchids. What size?”
“I don't know. I'm not up on my bouquet sizes. Yay big.” Allen holds his hands in a way that Kanda thinks is eight or so inches.
“Fine.” He moves to set his iPad down on the surface nearest to him, next to his cacti, and rearranges his hair, pulling it from its ponytail to throw it into a bun. He almost misses the way Allen watches him as he does it. “Price point?”
“A man of so few words. I don't fucking know, Kanda. Flowers are expensive, I hate spending money as much as I used to - just do whatever seems right. It’s been a long time, but I haven't changed as much as you have.”
Kanda sighs. “Just…wait here.”
Allen walks around his counter and perches himself on Kanda’s stool. It makes Kanda frown, but he trusts Allen not to raid his till.
He takes his time as he goes through his greenhouses, surveying each flower and giving greater care than usual to his decisions. This feels like an important arrangement, and there’s something drawing him to the more beautiful pieces.
As he picks the last hyacinth, laying it across his arm, he looks into its blue leaves and wonders who it’s for, and why Allen is so sorry.
“Took long enough,” Allen playfully gripes when he returns to the front. He hops down from the stool and meanders forward, closer to Kanda. “Oh, wow, they’re so pretty…”
Allen reaches out, fingers gently brushing the petals of a rose. Kanda wants to make a comment about the oils on his hands, but refrains. These are Allen’s flowers. He can do whatever he wants with them.
“Are you going to tell me who they’re for?” Kanda asks, before he can stop himself. It’s too personal a question - he never asks someone that, but it’s Allen.
Blue eyes look up into his; they're soft, and a little sad. “Sure. They’re for Mana.”
Kanda swallows and looks back down into the flowers. “The orchids…they also mean…they also mean longing.” He clears his throat, mouth dry. “Missing someone.”
Those blue eyes crinkle slightly, a response to Allen’s sad smile. “Mm,” he returns, and looks down to the flowers again. “Thank you.”
“I’ll put it together,” Kanda tells him, then, and he gathers the stems in a way that helps him transport them to his front counter. He lays out simple parchment paper and lays the flowers out. He wants to respond to Allen’s thanks, but doesn't know how to.
Silently, he creates the arrangement. Allen is quiet, too, watching him with interest, and by the time Kanda is finished, he’s half leaned over the counter. “You did that so quickly.”
“Practice,” Kanda returns, gruff. He pulls another piece of parchment, this one a deep, muted purple, and wraps it around the outer layer before handing it to Allen. “Here.”
Allen takes it gingerly, as if he’s afraid to hurt it, and it makes Kanda relax a bit for some reason. Allen being gentle makes Kanda feel gentle - it’s fuckin' weird.
“It’s beautiful,” Allen smiles, and Kanda feels his insides melt. Ridiculous. “How much? I won't even barter, promise.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Kanda returns, because there’s no way he could charge Allen in good conscience.
Allen tilts his head to the side. “That’s no way to run a business.”
“It’s how I run my business. It’s a gift. For Mana.”
Suddenly, Allen’s expression twists. His eyebrows furrow and the edges of his lips turn down and Kanda is struck by how immediately sad he looks. Tears gather at the edges of his eyes, and Kanda thinks he has whiplash. “Thank you,” Allen tells him, and he hugs the bouquet a little closer. “Thank you, I’ll - uh. I’ll let him know.”
Kanda is not someone who knows how to give comfort, so he doesn't even attempt to. Still, he feels like he has to say something. “That’s the only freebie, though. I know how cheap you are - don’t think you can swindle me.”
Allen laughs around his tears, hair brushing his cheeks as he shakes his head. “I wouldn't. Thank you again, Kanda. I’m glad I came here.” He nods towards the arrangement. “Not just because of the freebie.”
Kanda softens. He can't help it - must be a sign of him getting old. “Let Lena know when you want to hang. I might make time for it.”
“That's as close to a promise as I think I'll get from you,” Allen jokes. “I will, then. Keep an ear out.”
“Sure.”
Allen gives him one last smile, a small, almost shy thing, and hugs the bouquet to his chest before leaving the shop.
Secretly, Kanda is more disappointed than he’s willing to admit that Allen’s visit is only temporary.
One thing that Allen’s learned throughout these last few months is that when Kanda loves, he loves hard. It's enviable, almost. He spent nearly a decade searching and pining for the woman he (?) loved, basically devotion in human form, living each and every day for the chance to see her again. It haunted him, like the ghost of a memory was suctioned to his soul, unable to part from him - and then when he found Alma, Allen saw a sort of love in his comrade that (at the time) he wasn't aware he was even capable of. To him, Kanda was always just a stubborn asshole with a secret, biting and mercurial and prone to irritation over nothing. He believed he was bigger than he was, believed he was invulnerable and unable to die despite the fact that he was (is) still very much a human, and all humans must face death at some point. It's an order of things that defies nature, that plagues all life; NOAHs, second exorcists, the purest forms of innocence itself…everything has an ending. Everything.
Opinions have changed, obviously. From both sides, clearly. In a way that’ll change their relationship, definitely. (For the better? Maybe. Probably not. Who the fuck knows these days?) Allen can't pinpoint the exact moment things started to shift for him, but the deal was sealed the second he saw a young Kanda blearily crawling out of a vat and into a cruel world that hated him. He watched a boy, new to life, learn about the worst of humanity mere days into an existence he never would have asked for, and watched him learn how to smile despite that.
Because of Alma.
Alma.
The name alone rends breath from Allen’s lungs, brings tears to his tired eyes, hurts him a way not much else has - a pain of the heart, of the soul, bypassing every emotional wall he's ever tried to build to crash into him with all the force of ship to rocky shore. Seeing her soul (His soul? Their soul.) weeping, desperate not to be seen, not to be revealed, was one of the saddest things he’d ever seen - a person so devastated at the thought of being forgotten that they’d rather stay dead, simply to hold a piece of Kanda’s heart forever. It's love in its purest form; cruel and selfish and all-consuming. He doesn't blame Alma in the least - Allen wishes he loved someone that much.
As he is now, the only love he knows is drenched in guilt and responsibility, pain and suffering, loss and loneliness. If he could love like Alma did, like Kanda does, things might be different. Maybe he wouldn't hate himself so much.
Maybe it would be okay to let himself be loved, adored, needed. (He wants, wants, wants that.)
He watches the man in question resting, leaning against the cream wall with Mugen held close, and thinks that it may not matter what he wants. Kanda’s always been the kind of person that hates asking for permission, that prefers to act rather than faff about and wait for things to happen, and when it comes to emotions, no one can dictate what another person feels.
If Kanda doesn't already love him, he's on his way to it - those dark eyes saw in him something Allen understands but can't quite explain; he physically felt the ways in which Kanda reveres him, cherishes him, glorifies him, and it's terrifying and horrible and he hates it and he needs it (and hates that he needs it). Like an itch he won't let himself scratch, he aches and craves and can't stop obsessing over the potential in Kanda’s touch.
But Allen knows that he, like everything else, cannot defy the natural order of things. He, too, will end (and it will be soon).
In which Kanda learns about the word 'situationship.' Aaaand - unfortunately - that he has to come to terms with the fact that it's the closest thing to a 'label' he and Allen Walker are ever going to get.
Kanda had genuinely never heard of the term ‘Situationship’ until Lenalee fucking Lee said it. It’s been clear since the beginning that he and Allen Walker are never going to acknowledge a goddamn thing that they’re doing, so he’s never bothered himself with expressions or turns of phrases or whatever the fuck idiot kids on social media sing and dance about these days. Why would he? It’s a waste of time - fifteen years ago he avoided girly magazines, and now he does the same by avoiding TikTok or Instagram or what the fuck ever; people are eternally stupid, and a word like ‘Situationship’ is the perfect example.
Except for the unfortunate fucking reality that it defines exactly what they are. Allen is always on the goddamn road for work, in and out of town constantly, and yet always manages to text Kanda when he’s going to be around for longer than a couple of days; they have exactly zero concrete boundaries about anything; they’ve never had a single serious conversation about what they actually want out of this fucked up situation. They’re like the blank space after a question.
A question neither of them have bothered to ask. A question he doesn’t even really want to ask. It wouldn’t make sense to. What they’re doing is fine - they skirt the line sometimes, but Kanda prefers to keep his life simple. Allen Walker could complicate his entire existence in such a life-altering and irrevocable way that he’d never be the same after. Best to keep things light.
Lena doesn’t agree with him, which is both her prerogative and her problem. She thinks it’s unfair to the both of them, but they’re grown fuckin’ adults and can make their own dumb decisions without her approval. He’s known Allen for twelve fucking years. If they want to have brain-melting marathon sex for a straight week every six months, they can do that.
And they have been doing that. For. A very long time. And he’s fine with it. More than fine, even. It’s not like he can stand most people, anyway, and Allen keeps things interesting; if he can find someone that sticks around for longer than a month at a time and does even half of what Allen does to him, he’ll reevaluate, but as it stands, there’s one goddamn Allen Walker in this world and he’s a dumpster fire.
Judging by the tell-tale alert that chimed from his phone over on the dining room table several minutes ago, said dumpster fire messaged him. Allen set his alert tone to something specific the last time he was in town, and Kanda never changed it back to the default that he has for his other contacts. For some reason or another, Allen’s the one person that he holds in a different regard when it comes to texting; could be because of the fact that at least half of those texts have to do with getting together to fuck, could be because of other facts he refuses to contemplate. Whatever the cause, he’s been staring at his phone from the living room since it pinged, overthinking things because the only woman in the world he gives his time to wants to give him another reason to stress the fuck out and lose sleep.
His phone chimes again. Kanda grimaces at it before closing his eyes and slumping on the couch, leaning his head back and wondering what it’s going to take to strike his ‘Situationship’ search results from his memory.
Certainly not a third fucking message.
He snarls as he pushes himself up and off of the couch, stalking to his dining table before snatching up his phone and unlocking it.
[08:27pm] Hey. Got a question for you. Call me.
[08:35pm] Wow. Rude. It’s not like you ever do anything, so I know you aren’t busy.
[08:37pm] What if I was burning alive in a fire, Kanda? What then? What if I was literally burning in flames and then I died because you were ignoring me?
[08:37pm] Then I wouldn’t have to deal with bullshit like this anymore and the world would be a happier place.
[08:37pm] That’s really mean and I’m super hurt about it.
[08:38pm] Call me, you fucking git.
Allen already knows how much Kanda hates talking on the phone, so if he’s insisting this much, Kanda realizes he should probably just bite the fucking bullet and call him. It’s not worth the petty bitching he’ll get if he doesn’t.
Rolling his eyes, forcing the stupid smirk off of his face so Allen can’t hear it in his voice, Kanda taps his contact and puts the phone on speaker as he walks back to the couch.
The idiot answers on the second ring. “Kanda!”
Kanda sits on his couch with a sigh and crosses his legs, ankle over knee. “...What?”
“Have you talked to Lavi today?”
“Why the fuck would I? I spend most of my time trying to forget that we live on the same plane of existence.”
“You’re such a bitch, you know that?” Of course he knows that. “Right bastard, you are. He got an offer from the Smithsonian - he and Lenalee are going to move to D.C.”
Kanda takes a moment to process that. His brow furrows as he stares at the coffee table in front of him, trying to decode what the sinking feeling in his stomach is.
“Kanda?”
“Good for him. He can finally shut up about it. Only took a goddamn decade.”
“Well, I can’t imagine becoming the head archivist for the National Museum of American History is an easy feat.” Allen sighs deeply. “You’re incapable of just being happy for people, aren’t you?”
In his defense, he’s trying to wrap his head around what this all means. Sure, great - Lavi really does deserve the position, and he really has wanted this for a long fucking time, but Kanda doesn’t do very well with change. If Lena and Lavi leave for the other side of the country, a lot changes.
When Kanda doesn’t respond to his question, Allen takes a moment of silence for himself before continuing on. “I’m sure they’ll be talking to you about it tomorrow. When Lavi and I spoke, he did say you’d have a tough time with the news. I’m positive they weren’t keeping it from you to be cruel.”
“I don’t care,” he lies.
“You’ve always been a rubbish liar, Handsome. Listen, I’ll be coming back to town next week for his celebration party and to help them start packing up their house - would you object too terribly to putting me up while I’m there? You know I hate to spend money unnecessarily, so I’m not incredibly keen on a hotel room.”
Kanda swallows, eyes falling to his legs. He picks idly at an errant thread on his sweatpants. “How long will you be here?”
“Hm. Dunno. Not too long this time. Two weeks tops.”
“That’s a long fucking time to deal with a bratty little Beansprout messing up my space.”
“Well, Darling, I hate to spend money unnecessarily, but I can think of a few other methods I have of paying you back for the lodging.”
Again with the stupid little pet names. They make Kanda agitated, unnerved - he hates them. “You always do what you want anyway, so there’s no point in answering one way or the other. Even if I said no, you’d just show up and never leave.”
“Hm. You might have a point,” Allen concedes, tone light. “I’ll leave you to it, then. I’m sure whatever kept you from answering me was…riveting.”
“I was hoping you were trapped in a burning building with no escape, actually.”
“Thrilling banter, as always. Goodnight, Kanda.”
Allen’s laugh reminds Kanda of windchimes, airy and whimsical and pure. He leans back on the couch, mirroring his position from earlier, and presses a hand to his eyes. “Mm. ‘Night,” he murmurs, and the call ends.
He has a lot to unpack tonight, mentally. He doesn’t really want to, but he learned a long time ago that he has to keep his head on right in order to be around Allen - he hates to be vulnerable around the other man, because he gets stupid and talks too much when he’s vulnerable.
No, it’s better to make sure all of his thoughts are in a line and positioned how he wants them ahead of time.
He’s going to tear Lavi a new asshole tomorrow for telling Beansprout before him.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Kanda is of the firm belief that ethereal, angelic violinists have no place playing their siren songs in the middle of the business park he works at. At first, anyway.
“You finally came to talk to me,” the man grins, scratching his cat behind the ears. His violin sits on the stone next to him. “I was wondering when you’d stop staring.”
Kanda is mortified. He feels his face flush as he clears his throat. He needs to get this over with. “Who are you? Why the hell are you here every day?” And why does his voice sound prettier than his violin?
“I like it here,” is the simple explanation. “And my name is…Allen.”
Why did he pause before he said that?
“Okay, Allen,” Kanda returns, and the name feels odd in his mouth, like it's a conscious effort to say it. “Can you do your fucking business somewhere else? This isn't a concert hall, if you didn't notice.”
Allen hums, then stretches. “People here like it. It can be so droll in places like this and I like to bring a little bit of life and pleasure to empty spaces. Feels nice.”
“You're distracting. Some of us come to work to do our damn jobs.”
White eyebrows furrow. “You're very bitter.”
“Oh, I wonder why?” Kanda returns, sarcastic.
Allen meets his gaze head on. “I do too, actually. Most people seem to enjoy my music, and I thought maybe you did as well. I don't see why you’ve been so tuned into my presence if you don't.”
Kanda opens his mouth to reply, but finds he doesn't have a good answer.
“Hey.” The word is spoken with some sort of edge to it, something that compels Kanda to listen to him. “Tell me your name.”
“Kanda.”
“And your date of birth?”
What a weird fucking question. Still, he answers. “June 6th, 1995.”
Why did he say that? He feels like an idiot, and also a little crazy.
“Well, you aren't very flexible for a Gemini, are you? Or a people person, for that matter.”
He’s one of those?
“Like I give a fuck what you think the stars have to say about me.”
Allen gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “So hostile.” He stands and dusts off his clothes, and this close up Kanda can tell that they have a somewhat significant height gap. At least four inches.
This makes him feel some sort of way, but he can't put his finger on what that is.
"If you really don't want me to return, I won't,” Allen tells him, and Kanda's breath catches. “It's not pleasant to be somewhere I’m not wanted.”
Okay, maybe Kanda was being a little unfair. Just a tiny bit.
“I - wait…”
Allen raises a delicate eyebrow at him. “So fickle. Why should I wait?”
Kanda doesn't know what to tell him. He should be happy. This is what he wanted - this is what he outright told Allen. “You’re clearly wanted…considering the crowd you bring with you every morning.”
“But I’m not wanted by you. Apparently you thought that was a good enough reason.”
Okay, alright. He was being an asshole.
But Allen’s presence here is so confusing. He's driving Kanda wild.
Allen takes a step closer, and Kanda instinctually takes a step back - molten silver eyes are trained on him. “Tell me,” Allen starts, and Kanda will tell him anything he wants to know. Anything at all. “Why do you want me to go? Why don't you care about my music?”
“It’s just music,” Kanda returns, and that's very true. “I don't want you to go because I can't get you off of my goddamn mind, and you leaving might make it worse.”
Oh. Oh. What? What the fuck??
Allen’s expression twists in surprise. “What?”
Kanda’s fucked up now. Royally. Why did he say that?
“But you don't like my music?” Allen asks again, tone shaking.
“I don't care about your goddamn music. It’s nice, I guess.”
“You guess?” Allen looks downright appalled, as if this news turns his world upside down. He moves to sit down on the edge of the fountain again and shakes his head. “I don't understand.”
Kanda wants to run away, but he stays rooted to the spot. “Me the fuck neither. What's your issue?”
“You’re supposed to like my music.”
“What the fuck are you on about?”
“I myself…should not be…” He pauses. “Tell me…”
“Sure, anything.”
“What do you think of when you see me?”
“Angels.”
“Angels?”
Since when does his mouth work without his permission? Something very fucking weird is happening here, and Kanda thinks he should be frustrated, but actually he feels quite calm. That's also weird.
“Will you follow me?”
“Anywhere.”
What? No.
“I mean. No. Fuck no,” Kanda shakes his head. “What the fuck?”
Allen tilts his head to the side.
“So you won't?”
“I would.” He would? He would.
“I see…so…you’re influenced. I apologize, that should not have happened.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come, sit with me, my prickly fellow.” Allen waves to the spot next to him, and Kanda moves to sit. “Tell me, are you a skeptic?”
“Yeah,” Kanda returns with a nod. “If a skeptic is just someone not insane.”
Allen gives him a wry smile. It’s very pretty. Kanda thinks he could look at it for a very long time. “I assure you, you are very sane. An asshole, perhaps, but sane.” He takes a breath. “The unfortunate news is that there is no getting rid of you now. Not for some time, and it will take work.”
“Just tell me what the fuck is going on. Why am I…?” Why is he what? Is something wrong?
“I am going to help you through these next moments, as I feel you might not take them well otherwise. There is a reason that you've felt the way you do, and that it's gotten worse. You see, some humans have a…proclivity for…or a susceptibility to…being charmed.” Allen looks at the ground. Kanda doesn't know why he seems so upset - it’s fine, really. Kanda doesn't think many things are fine, so if this is okay, Allen really has no cause for concern.
“Humans?”
“Yes, such as yourself.”
“But not you.”
“No,” Allen shakes his head, shaggy white hair brushing his cheeks. Kanda would like to fix his bangs and tuck them behind his ears so that he can see Allen’s face more. “I am what is commonly referred to as fae.” He pauses, then looks around. “Is there somewhere more private we can go?”
Private? Kanda really wants to go somewhere private with Allen. Fuck, he wants to.
“Sure. I don't live far away.”
Allen gives him a small smile. “You should finish your work day, first. I meant just for the rest of your lunch break.”
Kanda feels his ears heat. Nice. Real fucking nice. “My car?"
“Sure,” the musician - the fae - nods. “Lead the way.”
