I was bored, and this was the result. Alright, I know I haven't been around lately, but I'm back again. No promises that I'll stay though. But I do have more to upload, so stick around if you're interested. Oh, by the way, this one was written for Suteki-Yamamoto. I hope you like!

Warning: Mentions of adult stuff.
Pairing: Allen/Kanda (Arekan)

ONE TIME

He had no idea when Allen had began to invade his dreams and conquer his desires. His every waking moment was not spared either. The only respite he had was that Allen did not always come to mind while he was awake. He was grateful that he could operate by such a cliched expression as 'out of sight, out of mind'. It was not always effective, but any thought absent of the white-haired boy was a blessing.

It had come without warning, the speed at which he fell was sudden and shocking.

He had been standing in line, waiting to order his daily soba. Lavi was chattering away behind him, then straightened and pointed out a change. "And it's only been five months, twenty-seven days, seventeen hours and–"

He had snapped and told the usagi to get on with it or risk eating with dentures for the rest of his life. Lavi looked put out, but raised his hand and called a name and beckoned the other over. Allen looked up, surprised, but obligingly made his way over to them.

He disdainfully registered Allen's undeserved growth spurt as the other balanced a mountain of plates on both hands. They met each other nearly eye to eye, and he was disgruntled – they were almost the same height now, except that he was the one who had to do some catching up now. Internally, he cursed the English and their infallible ability to stack on a couple of feet once they were past puberty. It didn't help that the cold weather made them eat more – and grow more. And they happened to live in some enormous castle on the top of a cliff somewhere in cold, chilly England. Perfect living conditions for a healthy, growing (read: insatiable appetite) teenager such as Allen Walker.

And Allen turned an unreadable gaze upon him and smiled mockingly. Something about the sharp, grey gaze and almost predatory smirk had him stunned. Everything seemed to have taken on a startling clarity, as if the white-haired boy's very look had opened his eyes to a thousand possibilities. But he was sure it was the hunger and want in Allen's piercing eyes that had provided him with the terrifying prospect: that Allen wanted him, and he wanted him right now.

He had shivered at his realisation and quickly looked away, mouth suddenly dry and his mind completely blank and his heart racing. He was aware of his heated cheeks only when Lavi questioned him about it. He had turned away sharply then, and muttered a hastily thought-up excuse to the redhead – who had continued yakking away, oblivious to what had just occurred between his two friends – and practically ran out of the cafeteria.

He reassured himself he had only been confused by what had happened, and that he had not been running away like a schoolgirl in denial. As he disappeared into the corridor where its comforting darkness hid him from view, he was acutely conscious of the fact that a pair of intense grey eyes was focused on his back the whole time.

He had sought refuge in his hiding place. It was also where he usually honed his sword-fighting skills if he didn't in the training hall. He tied a piece of dark cloth around his head and secured it over his eyes before beginning his routine meditation. He had about an hour of peace before rustling footsteps alerted him to another presence in his secret glade. He didn't bother to see who it was. He knew it was Lavi, come to ask – tease – him about his uncharacteristic behavior in the cafeteria. He sighed, an almost inaudible whoosh of breath leaving his lungs, and spoke sharply, "Usagi, leave now. I will not hesitate to slice your ears off the side of your rabbit face."

There was a pause, then strong arms encircled his waist and a deep voice remarked at his ear, "I am not Lavi…"

He had started violently and made to spring away, his mind already running wild. But those arms were firm and held him back effortlessly, preventing him from escaping or removing his blindfold. He struggled but was easily contained. When he stilled to catch his breath, he was turned around and gently pushed to the ground, where he could feel the soft soil beneath his skin – now he remembered he was shirtless.

Warm breath blew against his lips and he trembled at the intimacy of it. They had lain there for several long moments, listening to each other breathe. One was quick and rapid like a prey's; the other was slow and purposeful, like a hunter's.

He had no doubt as to which category he fell under, something that was only reinforced when their clothes were shed like autumn leaves and they made passionate love in the mellow moonlight. He let Allen take control. He let him dominate. He allowed him to give or deny pleasure. And when Allen silently asked for entrance, he accepted him deep into his body. He was aware of the great care and tenderness exhibited when Allen took him. As they rocked gently on the moist grass, he could feel a strange elation bubbling up inside of him. At some point of time his blindfold had been shifted and he could watch the rise and fall of the body above him. He knew he looked extremely vulnerable in this state, but the protectiveness in Allen's warm gaze sent shivers down his spine.

He wondered when they had stopped seeing each other as mere friends and come to terms that they wanted to be together. When it was over he lay comfortably in Allen's embrace, whose arms still circled his waist in a loving manner. They exchanged a few chaste kisses before they drifted off to sleep, and as he did so he thought how he would never think of his little hiding place in the forest in the same light again.

He found himself outside Allen's door the following evening. It was a little after they had both eaten, and he was anxious to know why Allen had not bothered to stop and converse. He seemed to be in a hurry and so he felt quite silly for staring hopefully after Allen as he strode by, especially when Lavi noticed and teased him about it. He stopped looking out for the grey-eyed boy after that and tried to go about his usual routine.

But he was confused about his own feelings, and Allen's remote behavior towards him. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of his possible new-found lover. Why was Allen avoiding him? He had to shake his head every now and then to clear it of such thoughts. He mentally berated himself for acting foolish. And now, standing before the forbidding looking door, he felt ridiculous for feeling so lovelorn.

He admitted that he missed Allen's domineering touch and deepening voice. And the whole of today without him drove him into a frenzy, even if he didn't show it. His absence made him long for Allen even more. It was night when he returned to his room after their scandalous romp in his secret place. He barely slept. He was up all night thinking about their relationship. Trying to identify the bizarrely strong emotions he had felt and was still feeling. What did their night together mean for them? Were they considered a couple, now? From the bottom of his heart, he hoped it was so.

He hesitated, then knocked carefully on the door.

He heard a muffled exclamation and stilled. It wasn't Allen's voice. He took a step back and scrutinised the door. It was Allen's room. Then the door opened and Allen slipped out, quickly pulling the door close behind him. But he was hasty and it was left slightly ajar. He stared at Allen, who was only in his boxers. His gaze alternated between Allen and the interiors of his room.

"Hello, Kanda," Allen said amiably. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

He stood there stock-still, as Allen adopted a mildly puzzled look at his lack of reaction. He was struggling to come up with words to say. When Allen spoke again his tone was patient, as if speaking to a dim-witted child. "Is something wrong, Kanda?"

He kept silent. He had no idea what to say. His bewildered gaze shifted past Allen's tolerant expression and he looked through the space between the door and its frame to where the stranger was lounging at the foot of the bed.

Finally, Allen decided he had better things – and people – to do. "As you can see, I'm a little busy now. Could we talk later?"

Through the roaring of blood in his ears he could distantly hear the sound of his heart shattering. It felt like a great effort to talk. So he settled for nodding dumbly. "Okay," he managed to reply. "See you later, then." Each word felt like a shard of broken glass forcing its way out of his throat. He knew what really would happen later.

He wouldn't meet Allen's sharp, grey gaze as they talked – not because he was afraid of what he'll find there, but because he didn't want the other to see the immense hurt and betrayal lurking in his own dark eyes. He waited a second more – for what, he asked himself – before he turned and literally fled. As he went round a corner he thought he heard a door shut and lock.

And now, later, he is nursing a broken heart and dreaming of when Allen returns to him. He is barely holding on, and he has drawn a rhetorical blind over his eyes to keep himself from seeing the truth. He loves Allen. Had loved him. Still do. But deep inside he knows that Allen feels differently, and that the night would forever stay as what it was; a one-time affair.

He can still hear, in his dreams, the echoes of a door shutting and locking.

A/N: Such a melancholy piece. It has no direction. Just depression. I wrote this on a whim. Hope it is decent!