Characters: Alma/Kanda
Warnings: Sex
Author's Note: AU, Alma lives and is an Exorcist. His and Kanda's memories are mostly suppressed "correctly". The Order put Alma into a male body and so I will assume that's the only body he's aware of because of his suppressed memories. His character was tough but I enjoyed writing it.

Normal

Kanda dreams in lotuses and disembodied voices. Lotuses, he has learned, stood for someone who's seen hell and lived, and now is haunted by the flowers. As for the voices, one of them belonged to him and the other belonged to someone else. Someone he does not know and may never know.

Both these things are illusions. They have to be. And Kanda does not care for illusions. Reality—that's what matters. He's an Exorcist. An odd one, but still very, very apt. Déjà vu is an old friend and he stopped trying to understand it. So what if things were familiar; maybe that was helpful.

He didn't trust people, after all. He trusted his sense.

…all right, so there were three people he could trust. One was Alma, the other Marie, and the third was Lenalee. Alma because they spent the most years together, Marie because they fought to together, and Lenalee because she did not judge him and because they've shared a bed—

No, not that way. As children she had crawled into his bed to sleep. That was all.

Alma's the one who could be likened to a…fuckbuddy. As crude as that sounds. It didn't sound as bad when Alma says it with a smile on his face. Besides, they really did fuck.

It was normal.

It began around after they turned sixteen. Sexual urges that kicked in (Kanda), and then relieving it (Alma). Ever since, it was a common affair. Kanda is not experimental; Alma was and Kanda only says no to his crazy ideas half the time. They kept quiet and they were sure only maybe two other people knew—the Finder that accidentally walked in and then pissed himself when they threatened him, and perhaps Marie, who would never say anything.

They saw it as just a thing they did.

_-|||:|||-_

"How about—"

"I said no."

"You're such a wet blanket."

"I'm tired." He keeps his head buried underneath a pillow. Most of the time they never worried about injuries. Today was particularly trying after losing a leg. Limbs were the most painful.

"Yu—"

"Shut it." Alma is the only person allowed to call him by his first name and live. "Why are you so damn noisy today."

"I can't talk?"

"You're in my room. I tell you what you can't or can do."

"Then you'd better name everything I can or cannot do."

"Fuck off."

"So mean."

"I said I was tired." Hands slide underneath his shirt and he is about to roll over, frustration in in his voice. "You—"

"I'm just giving you a massage. Relax." Fingers knead his lower back. "I can do that, can't I?"

Innocent question? Ridiculous. "You're not subtle at all." But Kanda lets him apply pressure to his body, even shifting to push the rest of his shirt off. Alma isn't bad with his hands; they're firm and slightly rough, but warm. He finds himself even relaxing.

"You like this."

"Tch."

"I know you like it."

He pulls his head out from under the pillow, and contemplates throwing it at Alma. "Are you going to keep talking?"

"It's like breathing to me."

"I should tell you to leave."

"But you're not going to." Smug.

"No. Because if you stop I'd consider hitting you."

"You should trim your hair." Fingers stroke the long strands in a way that sends goosebumps down his back. "Don't you ever get split ends?"

"I was blessed to not have them." His scalp and neck as massaged and he can't help making a soft, pleased sound. "I hate you."

"More moments for me to try to love you." Alma trails back down and then places his fingers against the small of Kanda's back. His thumbs line up and rub tantalizingly close to his backside.

"Suit yourself."

"I plan to." He shifts his hips as the other squeezes his posterior, moving down to his thighs, and then back up. The pressure pushes his body against the mattress, particularly his hips.

He's half-comfortable at this moment as he is…well, fondled quite thoroughly. It's slowly becoming harder to pretend he's unaffected, especially when the rest of clothes are shoved aside and hands are now on his naked behind.

"Maybe you should turn over."

"Maybe you should keep doing what you're doing."

A finger tickles his hair. "If you sure you don't want me massaging elsewhere."

"I'm sure." For now, anyway.

"Then you won't have any problems with this, then?" Some cold bumps against his side, and Kanda half starts as he looks up at a bottle of oil in Alma's hand.

"No, but do that again and I'm really kicking you out."

"Sorry, Yu."

"Just stop talking."

"Mm." Oil-slicked hands trace over his back, leaving residue behind. It all slides smoothly over his skin; Kanda almost decides to turn over as he imagines those fingers against his member, which is pressed against his leg, awkwardly hard and hot. Those hands travel over his body, covering every surface. Finally, a finger dips in between the cheeks of his bottom.

"Yu…"

"Are you going to keep me waiting?"

A hand pats his bottom. "No, no, just making sure."

"You don't have to ask about everything. I'm letting you touch me, right?"

"Then I'll touch you more." The finger nudges slowly in, aided by the oil. Kanda tells himself to relax. They've done this before, but the first one always takes adjustment.

Alma works a slow pace. No words are needed anymore; they both know how this goes. Kanda is rocking back and forth to relieve the ache in his groin as the fingers move in and out of him.

"Can't you go faster?"

"Do you want me to?"

Kanda starts to turn over, but a hand against his back prevents it. "What are you—"

"I'm just curious." A jab makes him close his eyes and breathe deeply.

"To what? See if I can come like this?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

He can very easily shove and turn over and finish this himself. But the fingers up his passage hold him there. Maybe he's just a little curious, too.

Alma's long ago found his prostrate and aims quite precisely. Kanda clenches and unclenches, shamelessly rubbing his erection against the bed. The hand firmly rubbing his backside helps, too. Then Alma decides to lick his ear and work his hand underneath to fondle at Kanda's cock. It surprises him into climaxing then and there in a rush.

"Ah—" Yu Kanda do not make sounds very often. He bites on his lip and arches into that hand as his seed spills. The hands leave him and he turns over to gently slap Alma upside the side. "Cheater."

"No one makes me come like you do."

He breathes and wipes at the sweat on his face, skin already cooling. "That's all you can boast about?"

"Well," Alma tilts his head. "No one makes me scream like you do."

"Tch." Kanda grabs him by the hair and tugs him down for a kiss. He pulls back to say "We're not done" before he makes quick work of the other's clothes and pushes him down.

Alma blinks up at him, a little cockily. "What are you planning, Yu? Are you going to do what I did to you, or something else?"

"Shut up and watch." His pace is different from Alma's; there is only so much he is patient about. He licks a trail from sternum to groin, pinches nipples, and sets his teeth against ears and lips. He keeps a hand clamped at the base of the cock that bobs up to bump against him every time he moves.

The other makes little sounds and movements, both arching into and curling away from Kanda's ministrations. He especially groans when Kanda begins to suck on him, taking nearly the full length in.

"Fuck, Yu…" His hands mess in Kanda's hair as his legs change positions. Kanda pushes at them and hauls Alma up by the waist to leave his leg dangling down Kanda's back as he moves his head up and down.

He has enough patience to keep Alma at the edge; his hand mercilessly teases testicles and perineum, but every time Alma shows near-release, he grips the base to keep him there.

"Did I—do something to displease you."

Kanda shakes his head and licks the side of his cock.

"Aaaah…you're cruel." Alma's fingers dig into his hips.

"Tch." He pulls away. "You won't think that when I'm through with you."

"Just what else are you going to do?"

"This." Kanda lets him down so that Alma can see he is aroused again. Oil is still on his skin, glistening. Before the other can say anything else, he brings himself down so that they are lying directly against each other.

"You're so unfair, getting to come twice."

"Says the one who insisted on getting me off first." They grind together, breathing sounds mixed.

"I'll do more next time."

"Go ahead." Alma is truly bad at keeping his fingers away; they return to Kanda's passage to grope. Their erections slide and bump, slick with fluids. The Alma tenses, his head tilted back, and he whimpers before coming. Kanda slips a hand between them to squeeze a little more before he moans and comes as well.

They stay in their positions for a minute or two, simply listening to each other's breathing and heartbeats.

If Kanda thinks too hard about it, he's fucking his best friend every week. But so is Alma. They're childhood friends. But maybe that's why he can with him like this and not care too much.

…though one could call it caring about only one person. Only Kanda knows how Alma can whisper things in his ear at night until he turns out to silence him with a kiss. Only Alma knows how good Kanda is at kissing until they have to do it right there. Only the two of them are aware of the other's bodies and how they react.

"Yu?"

He makes a sound.

"You might want to move before we…get stuck."

Kanda wordlessly rolls off. They clean each other off and then lie back down, shoulders and arms touching.

"How long…"

"How long what?"

"How long do you think this will last?"

He replies with a question. "Do you want the real answer or the fake answer?"

"Both."

"When one of us dies." Which would take a while. "Or when this fucking war is over."

"Maybe there will be more Exorcists."

"I sometimes hate how hopeful you are." Kanda prods a sharp elbow into a side.

The jab is returned. "And I hate how pessimistic you are."

"Little bit of you, little bit of me, and together as a person, we'd actually be balanced."

"Don't say that, Yu."

"Why not?" He turns his head, and finds that Alma is looking at him.

"Because I like the way you are now."

It's cheesy and lame. Sentimental and even pathetic. Kanda could almost laugh. But he doesn't.

There's only one thing they'd never speak of to each other. A four-letter word that hides in the sheets, in their voices, in their bodies and motions. It wants out but they refuse to let it out or even think about it.

"Quit that." Kanda hears himself saying. "I can stand you when you're not saying the first thing that comes to your mind." He knows that Alma knows the true meaning behind the words.

"Maybe someday." Alma closes his eyes and turns on his side.

Kanda lets the silence fill the space between them until it is too long, and then he softly answers. "Maybe."

He doesn't like being touched by anyone. He hates the presence of other people. He only shares a bed with two people. He only sleeps with one. Under other circumstances, he might own up to his feelings and put a name to it.

It's because this has always been familiar. The act of sex came easily to them, like memorized roles. Déjà vu, or more? The depths of his own mind, if he thinks too heavily, is one of the few things that frighten him.

He dares not delve to deep, for his and Alma's sake. They might not like what they find, and when things are actually good between them could all fall apart in one instant.

Kanda wouldn't do that, not to the one person he almost fully trusts.

So they'd continue this, until whatever ends they met.

Author's Note: The bit of romance element came as a surprise, but I think it made sense. Certain souls click with each other in various ways.

Thank you for reading.