Kanda unlocked the front door silently and slipped inside before the light had a chance to wake the beansprout up. It was late; nearly two in the morning. He'd missed the last bus and had to walk.

"Dinner's in the fridge," a voice called out, muffled against a pillow. Across the studio apartment, Kanda could see Allen's silhouette sit up and vaguely stretch before collapsing back into the sheets.

"Che, couldn't wait up for me?" Kanda smirked and pulled open the fridge to dig out Allen's attempt at cooking.

"It's the middle of the night, and I'm tired. Rough day." Allen's voice was still muffled. He made no indication of getting up, but twitched and buried his face deeper in the pillow when Kanda flipped on the kitchen light.

"You're a cashier at a record store. How the hell can that be tiring?"

"Piano store," Allen corrected. "And I was training two new cashiers. Two. Bubbly teenage girls at that."

"You're a teenager." Kanda took a bite of whatever the beansprout had cooked. He couldn't tell what it was. It tasted like over-boiled carrots, smelled like burnt fish, and had the texture of applesauce. He hadn't expected much. For having such a huge appetite, the Moyashi was a terrible chef.

"They don't know that. They think I'm a somewhat-mature twenty-something. And they kept flirting."

"Che."

"I told them I was gay." Allen paused. "They flirted more." The mattress squeaked as Allen shifted.

Kanda forced down as much of the hell Allen had created as he could then dumped the dishes in the sink. Allen groaned. "Don't leave them until morning!"

But Kanda had already turned off the kitchen light and picked his way through the tiny apartment in the darkness, around the loveseat and beaten milk crates they used as a coffee table. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed in next to Allen before collapsing face-down. The sheets were cheap, scratchy, and needed washing. Maybe tomorrow. Right now, they were warm. He flung his arm over the beansprout's chest. Allen's heartbeat echoed in the joints of his elbow and reverberated up Kanda's arm until it mixed with the steady rhythm within his own chest. Allen rolled onto his side to rest a chin on Kanda's shoulder. His breath was soft and almost ticklish against Kanda's neck. He resisted the urge to squirm away.

"Why were you so late?" Allen asked.

Kanda lifted his head from the pillow. "After I finished waxing the dojo's floors a sensei offered me some lessons. I guess as a tip or something."

Allen perked up under his arm. "What kinda lessons?"

"Something with a wooden sword, I don't remember what it was called. Guy said I was good." Kanda yawned around the last bit and laid his head back down on the pillow, facing Allen. They were only a couple inches apart, their breath intermingling.

"That's awesome. You should call next time, though. So I won't stay up worrying." He reached behind Kanda's head to unbind his ponytail. Allen was smiling. Kanda couldn't see it in the dark, but he knew it was there.

"You didn't stay up worrying, jackass Moyashi."

"Yeah but I considered it, idiot."

"I'd have called if we had a fucking phone. You're forgetting about that part of the equation."

"You wouldn't have called even then," Allen sighed. "We should work on that anyways, though. Marie would appreciate it if you called. Phone bills aren't too expensive, right?"

"Maybe I'll just send a fucking messenger pigeon. This city has enough of them."

Allen snorted and shifted to rest his lips, briefly, against Kanda's shoulder. The flutter of heat disappeared, and Allen's breath returned to skim over his neck again. His breathing was soothing and warm, like the entire apartment, despite the lack of decent heating.

Kanda shifted to better face his Moyashi. Allen rested a hand on his ribcage, leathery fingers spread out and tucked into the grooves between his bones. Kanda ghosted his lips down the length of Allen's scar, starting on his forehead, skating across an obligingly closed eyelid and ending near his jaw, before sliding an inch or so down to his mouth. Allen smiled into their kiss, and when they broke apart he said, belatedly, "welcome home."

A/N: I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had writing it!