Dodge, parry, counter. Sidestep, jump backwards, lunge forward. It was a rhythm Allen fell into easily enough, and it was more or less rinse and repeat until –

Whack!

"Ow!" Allen cried, staggering backwards and putting a hand on his side. That was going to leave a welt or worse. He glared at his opponent, who was smirking in that superior way that made Allen's blood boil.

"I told you not to get into a routine, moyashi," Kanda said, resting his training sword against his shoulder. "You deserved that, and maybe the bruise will remind you to guard your fucking side next time like I've been telling you all along."

Allen sagged a little, knowing he was right and all the more irritated with himself for it. It was too easy to fall into a pattern, and Kanda punished him severely when it happened with a welt that lasted for days. It was preferable to, say, dying in combat… but it still hurt!

He was about to retort when Kanda stalked off for a drink of water. Allen's eyes followed him, trailed over the broad shoulders and muscular arms. That tight black top suited him very well indeed, Allen decided, and he honestly wouldn't mind if the tailors never got around to remaking the coat that Skin Boric had destroyed. His eyes traveled lower to slim hips and strong legs encased in baggy black pants tucked into his typical uniform boots. Kanda was gorgeous, there was absolutely no denying it – that lithe, athletic body that he kept hidden far too often was a treat for Allen to lay eyes on.

Kanda tilted his head back and lifted the cup of cool water to his lips, and Allen's mouth went dry. He wanted the swordsman like he'd never wanted anything in his life – and the funny thing was, he was fairly certain that Kanda wanted him as well. These little training sessions were getting more and more intense as time went on.

"Let's start again," Allen offered, smiling and giving himself an excuse to admire Kanda for a moment longer. "This time I'll try harder."

Kanda glanced at him and smirked, then set the water down and slowly walked over to him. "All right," he agreed, holding out his practice sword and advancing. "On your guard!"

Allen jumped backwards and spun gracefully, parrying and deflecting Kanda's sword as best he could. He could always activate his Innocence and even the field, but this was more fun – he loved the challenge. He loved watching the way Kanda moved, loved the way the entirety of his being was focused on him. It was intense… in a way it probably shouldn't have been, on second thought.

The dance continued, both of them anticipating the other's moves. Allen was learning quickly, and the same strike that had caught him in the side previously was deflected easily off the back end of his wooden blade. He saw the satisfaction in Kanda's eyes and resisted the urge to grin, because he knew the swordsman would have another strike ready in the event he lost his focus. Around and around they went, the air becoming hot and heavy as they exerted themselves, blades flashing and bodies whirling.

It was the little things, Allen decided, that he liked most. When he did something right, he looked to those dark-as-night eyes for approval, and he usually got it. Allen could read Kanda's eyes well, after knowing him for so long and knowing how hard he strove to keep himself away from everyone else. The wall of ice he'd built around himself was slowly changing to a wall of flames when Allen was concerned, and Allen already knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his very soul was going to be seared… and the beautiful thing was, he didn't care.

Before he knew it, there were two attacks coming at him at once. Kanda dropped to the ground and whirled, extending one leg to knock him down while lifting the sword and swinging for his hip. Allen had to take one attack or the other, in the position he was in, and he ended up flat on his back and gasping for breath after being literally swept off of his feet.

Then it happened, and he knew his face was bright red, but he didn't care. Kanda was on top of him, his face inches away, flushed and eyes bright with victory. He looked down at Allen for a moment, then licked his lips ever so slightly – and God, the willpower it took to not lean up and claim those lips for his own. "Yield," he said, his voice rough and low.

Allen stared up at him, breathing hard. He was aroused, painfully so, and there was no way Kanda could have not known the way the lower half of his body was settled across his own to keep him still. He could feel Kanda's arousal as well, pressing insistently into his hip, and he resisted the urge to roll his hips up and watch those eyes glaze over with lust.

"Are you listening?" Kanda demanded. "Yield!"

Allen looked up at him and smirked slowly. "Why, Kanda," he said, his own voice low to match the older Exorcist's, "it seems like you're enjoying your victory quite a lot."

Kanda's eyes widened a bit, then narrowed dangerously. "You're one to talk," he replied, "now fucking yield before I cut your throat."

The younger boy smirked, flat on his back and enjoying every sinful second of it. His fingers itched to reach up and free Kanda's hair from its tight tail, to see the midnight-colored silk cascade down and hide them both. His smirk deepened as he shifted ever so slightly, nudging up into Kanda's hips with his own, and he was rewarded with exactly what he wanted – those endlessly dark eyes lost their focus for a brief second.

"No," Allen whispered, and while Kanda was distracted he swiftly shoved him backwards and grabbed his sword. Kanda swore fluently and jumped up, and the dance resumed with even more fervor this time. Allen resisted the urge to laugh giddily as their swords clashed and they spun around each other. This dance was only delaying the dance that would come later, and within moments he'd managed to back Kanda up to the wall.

He licked his lips slightly and was rewarded by Kanda's skin darkening in a blush that had nothing to do with the workout he'd had. "What the fuck are you playing at, moyashi?" he asked as Allen slowly ran the tip of his wooden sword along his collarbone.

Allen grinned wickedly as he trailed the tip slowly up Kanda's neck, forcing his head back, exposing the flesh for eyes and lips to ravish… and this time he didn't wait. Allen pressed his body against Kanda's, perhaps smaller but nearly as strong, pushing his thigh against the swordsman's straining arousal and attaching his lips to his neck. Licking and biting his way upward, keeping the tip of the sword under his chin, Allen purred into his ear.

"Yield."

Kanda made a muffled sound that could have been a curse or could have been a plea, and Allen should have known he'd need more to hold him – strong hands gripped his hips and shoved backwards, and the grip he'd had on his blade faltered. In a flash, Kanda sent the sword spinning across the room, and he advanced on Allen with a smirk that could only be called predatory.

"It will be a cold day in hell when I yield to you," he growled, his eyes full of dark promise. He lashed out, and Allen was left with nothing to defend himself. He refused to activate his Innocence against a practice sword, so he was reduced to doing the same things he had while fighting with Fou in the Asian branch – jumping, ducking, running, and hoping to God that blade didn't catch up with him.

Although, he thought with a smirk, maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. He dropped to the mat with a soft grunt when he miscalculated a kick, and Kanda was on top of him in a flash. He was breathing hard, his eyes were narrowed, his lips were parted – he looked absolutely stunning, and absolutely edible. Allen surged up and claimed his lips in a hot kiss, and Kanda fought back, his tongue wet and slick against Allen's.

It was only a moment before Allen found himself flat on his back again, this time with Kanda's forearm pressed against his throat. The pressure was delicious, and with the delicate weight of Kanda's hips against his own, all Allen could do was suck in as much of a breath as he could and arch upwards. Kanda growled low in his throat and pushed harder, lowering his head to nip at Allen's jaw.

"Now will you yield?" he asked, his voice holding a promise that if he did, the reward would be sweet indeed.

Allen considered the question for a moment, then smirked.

"No."

--

A/N: I wrote this story quite some time ago for the DGM kink meme, and am just now getting around to posting it here. I hope you enjoyed it! I'm still working on Bookends, I promise... don't give up on me!