Voyeur

Allen is under the firm belief that Kanda is one of two things. He picks these things because both of them are just as likely and actually, it could be possible that he takes bits of both. One, Allen is a firm believer that Kanda might have once been an expert in military torture. Maybe a couple past lives ago, maybe now and he's just hiding it…but he really, truly believes that Kanda has absolutely perfected the art of breaking people and everything they hold dear—most specifically him. Secondly, he also suspects that Kanda might be a witch. He says witch, because he feels like he's been horrifically hexed and can't break this sustaining curse Kanda placed on him. He's not about to go kissing wild animals and seeing an exorcist would be too ironic, so he figures he's unfortunately stuck with the forever curse of "look but don't touch".

It's not really like he's not allowed to. It's not like he never has before—because he has at least a time or two—but it's that Kanda always does it in the most awkward of situations where he is unable to act or is simply too far away to pounce and grope like his teenage hands itch to. Some little part of him thinks Kanda might not be doing it on purpose, but the majority of him is suspicious to the point of finger pointing. Unfortunately, he can't finger point and throw the heated accusations of Kanda intentionally turning him on when there's a nosy redhead milling about the camp—sorting through books and leaning on a fallen log just in front of the river basin. He really doesn't want to tip Lavi off to the fact that they're making like bunnies—minus the reproduction—when the sun goes down and tents get snuck into.

Which is why Allen considers this part both torture and witchcraft. Because he can't just sink to the damnable desires that start way too early in the day for his liking. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if Kanda wasn't stark naked.

Of course, tracking back, it's kind of reasonable as to why Kanda is naked in the first place. Allen can admit that—of course—they are all men and thus it really shouldn't bother any one of them to be naked in front of each other. They're a little beyond the age of comparing sizes and from what he gathers; none of them had anything to be embarrassed about. Not that he is really looking; but sometimes, you just can't help that sort of thing. So the idea of secluded nudity—for the purpose it was made present for—wasn't really out there. It was just that Kanda is a bit of a neat freak when his mind is out of Mission Mode and he's no longer turned on his "I do not care about the blood I've bathed in—rubber ducky included" way of thinking.

Allen insists that it's because Kanda's inner Asian just bleeds out and tattoos "bathe now" into his eyelids. Kanda insists that Allen is a moron and really should stop playing on ethnic stereotypes. He then, naturally, tells Allen that his accent is stupid.

Regardless, with the noon sun bearing harshly down on them, Kanda—without a word—decides to strip down and take a walk into the center of the little river outlet. It's not a deep little pool and the water is crisp and cool—so Allen can see the appeal. The two remaining on the shore, however, decide that they don't exactly enjoy the struggle to get heavy clothes back on a wet body and for unknown reasons, they're not exactly as immodest as their Asian counterpart.

Which is a thing that certainly surprises Allen still. Perhaps he considers Kanda to be too private of a person, that something like showing skin would be out of his range of probable. It is a mistake that Allen is a little embarrassed by, because he's always assumed he's a lot less presumptuous than that. He was humbled the first time Kanda had done so, on a mission in a long stretch of desert where Kanda decided that spending the morning in triple digit heat was just too much while wearing clothes.

Granted, he isn't considering Kanda a streaker by any means. He really only pulls this sort of thing when he's too hot to enjoy dragging ten tons of black clothes around or he's repulsed by the feel of sweat coating his skin and has to wash it away. Kanda. Only Kanda. Only a man like him could ever be more repulsed by a leisured sweat than hard fought blood splatter. Then again, Allen considers, Kanda only has two modes of thinking:

…Working.

…And torturing the hell out of Allen Walker.

And Allen is pretty sure that Kanda is often thinking more about the second, because lately, he's just out of control with the mind-destroying teasing that he's casually playing off as innocent or something.

Innocent my ass, Allen mutters in his head and promptly grouses at himself for the particular choice of words, because—damn it all—the sun was sparkling over Kanda's skin in just a way that the light rolled down his shoulders and crept down his spine until he is being tortured with a very attractive image. And image that almost makes Allen want to make grabbing hands and rope Kanda in for maximum touchability.

Or lick him.

He shakes his head for that thought, but the thought really doesn't go away and it's not his fault because he does give off a 'lick me' aura. Another horrible witch's spell that Allen is quickly falling victim to.

Once upon a time, Allen considered himself able to mask every aspect of himself and make himself into a perfect gentleman without any crack. Now…Now his pallet gray eyes are trailing lustily at the naked, wet male who seems to be completely oblivious to the way he's facing in just the right direction to give him the most glorious eye full of his nicely toned a—

"Yo, Allen. You okay over there?"

This is Lavi's voice; ringing painfully in his ears and making him nearly careen forward off the rock he uses as a perch for Kanda watching. It's slightly creepy and Allen is perfectly aware of it. He's also perfectly entered a state of "fuck not given" as Kanda has thrown at him multiple times in the past. So this is what Kanda means when he says that all of his fucks have long since flown off into the sun—forever melted and disintegrated and exploded and he doesn't even have anymore synonyms because Kanda's delicious a—

"If it looks that good, why don't you just hop in?" Lavi starts and Allen's mind drops out of his skull and snuggles nicely up in his pants where he tries to fish it out without being obvious about it. "The water is pretty clear here. And I'm sure Yuu can stand to share a body of water without making you breathe it all."

To Lavi, it's a casual jest; to Allen, it's a horrible suggestion. Because his mind stopped at 'hop in'. Instantly, he feels like a seedy pervert and this brings back the idea of Kanda being the reincarnation of an expert torture master. With Lavi there, Allen is actually pretty stuck if he doesn't want to accidentally have to explain why his pants are leaving a rather…obvious outline in the front. Because of this dilemma of his, he assumes that Kanda is just over there—faced away strategically—with the worst kind of creepy sadistic, evil grin. Because it's certainly not obvious that Allen wants to drag him into a clearing and put his hands all over things he really shouldn't. Sexual tension kills.

It's another one of those things that Allen hates about the situation. He's so easy to excite that he just has to really fall into the entrapment of Kanda's glorious body. Every curve and muscle is placed in a way that makes him want to lay Kanda out and lick some kind of sweet syrup off his middle.

Or down the length of his spine.

It occurs to Allen that Kanda has turned him into a sexual deviant or at least he's enabled the horrible teenage hormones that have him getting off on just the sight of him. This is another point in favor of Kanda being a horrible, high ranked witch. Somewhere in his mind is an image of Kanda pointing a stick at him in his sleep, and chanting words that don't make sense, that serve to give him the ability to make him rise to the occasion at his very command.

And sadly, he's nearly half mast by this bewitching.

It leaves him with no choice but to turn his head and try to focus on Lavi and keep the half baked attempt at conversation going long enough to safely cool himself down so standing wouldn't turn into a point and laugh procedure. Everyone else laughing and him being the one…Yeah. All Kanda's fault, he continues in his head.

Luckily, he's always been the type who sits in just a manner that makes everything he does look polite and conveniently hides the damnable pants shrinkage, given that his hands are folded over his lap.

This is really not something he can afford to let Lavi really catch on. It was considerably a miracle that Lavi hadn't picked up on the small things that should really have made them as obvious as Kanda in snow—because let's face it, Kanda really sucked at hide and go seek in Sweden. It isn't exactly that they are hiding it from Lavi in specific, but hiding it in general for their own sakes. Of all things to really have to be caught for, being two males engaging in horrible, raunchy—deliciously wonderfully perfect—unspeakable sin is not exactly a positive light to be shed and definitely wouldn't go over well with the church.

He actually suspects Kanda would tie him down and leave him to go insane with a Chinese Water Torture before he lets them be caught. Whether it be Kanda's pride or his desire to not get the mighty back hand of the Black Order, he simply doesn't allow it to slip through the cracks on his side.

Allen's side however, suffers a very complicated reaction that almost has him catapulting into the cold water for moral support in his lower quarters. Okay, reasonably, on the outside, Allen possibly appears a lot calmer than he does in his head and that is probably the problem entirely. It's because he feels like he's sitting in a Kanda sauna that makes his usual cute-boy face appear like he's having some sort of stroke-seizure combo when he tries to communicate.

"Y…yeah, I know," he mumbles to Lavi back, chuckling and trying play off the heat of his skin as just slow baking in the sun—even though he and Lavi are comfortably edged under the protective limbs of an overhanging tree. Spots of light do filter through and leave him with little beads of sweat to bead here and there. The nice breeze cools him down enough for that really to be a horrible excuse if he is even set to try it.

"You look like yer getting sick, bro."

Lavi persists, because that's what Lavi does and Allen can't really help but let his gaze shift between Lavi and Kanda for a brief moment, because Kanda's just too enticing of a sight. It's even worse now that his hair is loose and streaming down his body—sticking to river slicked skin like it was projecting Allen's desire to do the very same.

"I…I'm fine Lavi," he stutters out and turns his face down in his lap like he can just die for how obviously distracted he sounds. He really can just wear a sign that points to Kanda with another sign on his chest that points down with a little crudely drawn happy face on it. Even the thought of that in his mind is embarrassing him because he really isn't like this. Not much anyway. It could possibly be because of getting interrupted the last time. It could possibly be because Kanda is a torturing, sadistic heretic bitch.

He's throwing them both up in the air as possible catches.

"Allen, you look like yer burnin' up, man. Are you catching the plague or something?"

The only plague infecting Allen is currently wringing more water over his body with his hair—sending droplets to sparkle around him and for just a moment there Allen almost considers Kanda to be a god given gift.

Then he remembers what a cutthroat evil witch he is.

"The Plague, Lavi? Come on, it's just a bit hot—not rat infested and lingering with the haze of death."

"Well excuse me for being concerned about your welfare, Allen," Lavi makes the pouty face that he does—but his one green eye is sparkling with mischief. It's always a fear of Allen's to fall into the inevitable trap hiding behind Lavi's demeanor. If anyone is likely to flush Allen's bad thoughts out, it really is Lavi.

Gray eyes slide back along the bank and out to Kanda again. He's fortunate that Lavi can't be haggled to really look up from his book and he happens to be in a bit of Lavi's blind side. It's not fortunate, however, to turn his gaze at about the time Kanda's already turned around and walking back—water somewhere wading around mid-calf.

It's an embarrassing noise that is strangled back in and dies pitifully half way in his throat. Kanda's lack of modest is killing him cruelly. A full frontal and he's torn between hiding under a rock until the man gets dressed again or giving up on keeping it a secret and facing the man, then dropping to his knees in front of him.

Augh, such impure thoughts. What would Mana think of me like this? He's almost guilty but then Kanda lifts a leg to step out of the water and Allen's lost. Folds his hand. Gives up all his chips. Puts his worldly belongings out for the taking. And flips the card table too for good measure. To save a bit of face, Allen flops back—leaving his legs bend up as a safety measure for the straight shots of teenage hormones that decided to remind him that he has those kinds of thoughts for the irritable bastard using him for his personal sadism induced punching bag.

"Allen?"

"Augh."

"Hold there, buddy, I'll go get some fresh water from up the creek. Maybe you'll stop looking like you're gonna light on fire."

The gesture is nice but he really wants to correct Lavi and tell him he's not that weak. That leads to an awful fall back, though, and he determines it's easier to go with the one that leads to less questions of why he seems riled up a little more than usual. He can't exactly explain that he is getting a little saucy because Kanda has the best ass in the universe and the clean water and heavenly sunlight seem to just amplify the magic of his entire body. The pale skin and dark hair made him really just look like something exotic and delectable.

Not that Kanda isn't delectable anyway, because he really is. Sometimes, he's just not nice enough to make it an obvious feature and—yeah—that does make Allen grow accustomed to Kanda's usual appearance. When amplified by the graceful light of god, it reminds Allen why he'd wanted in Kanda's pants so badly the first time anyway.

Asshole as he is, the man is really a sight to see when exposed. Even more so when he gets heated and his skin warms from the same thing killing Allen's everything at the moment. Because Allen is dead from the neck up; definitely not from the neck down though.

It's shaming him immensely that it's all he can really think about at this particular time. It suddenly makes sense why girls give men such a hard time for thinking from the wrong body part—because he's been doing nothing but tossing thoughts that are either prayers to make it stop or thoughts of where he'd like to put his—

"Moyashi."

It's Kanda.

Kanda enters his ears and completely shatters the last bit of his ability to respond without sounding like a person recovering from a lightning strike. It's really humiliating, because he's never this bad. He's had moments in the past where he wanted to bend the man over or crawl up in his lap and enjoy a good ol' fashioned Rodeo, but this was…This was witchcraft.

"…Kanda."

"I saw you staring at me," he looks down—still horribly naked and leaning over the fallen moyashi and Allen realizes with a sudden shock of horror that he'd been dead from the neck up just long enough for Lavi to actually leave—and leave them alone at that. Oh no…No no. What do I…

"Sorry?"

"That's all you have to say?" The way Kanda's hair slides off his shoulder as he looms over Allen is enough to bring Allen back to a sitting position—where he effortlessly crans his neck and pulls the wet locks.

He doesn't even manage anything vaguely resembling a kiss. It's more of a hasty growling, sloppy attack and Allen's tongue and teeth decide his neck is closer and also Kanda's general weak spot anyway. He can only take so much before he has to return the favor or be forced to crawl into an abandoned rabbit hole and self sooth.

A flick sets Allen back just enough that he's only an inch from skin and he can feel the vibration from Kanda's throat as he talks.

"Moyashi, what the hell are you doing. You're going to get yourself found out. And I'm going to fuckin pretend I don't know you and claim you're a pervert in my false ignorance."

"You're out there, looking like something I want on my dinner table and you accuse me?"

"I wasn't doing anything wrong, you fuckin dipshit. I was bathing."

"Bathing does not require all that!"

"All what!?"

"All you being you and being naked and the sun and the water and that ass and shut up and go away."

Words just keep going and he's ready to curl and die because Kanda's back to playing the torturer's part of the game where he acts offended and like he wasn't practically fueling Allen's libido via direct injection. Kanda does that and Allen would hate it if it wasn't so…appealing.

"Grade A moron," Kanda's words are as casual and unimpressed as ever, but Allen doesn't miss the evil glint and the slight curl of the corner of his mouth as he moves back into a standing position.

And then he struts.

Struts.

And Allen wants to break his legs so he can't do that anymore.

"That's it, Kanda. That's it. When Lavi scouts tonight, your tent is not safe."

It's not an idle threat this time either. Their mission was a simple mission that had accustomed them to taking shifts while two of them keep a camp safe during transport of an Innocence. It gave him approximately three hours of night to drain the teenage head-rush out and get himself back to not acting like a starving sex fiend.

"We'll see about that, you voyeur."

Voyeu—

And then Allen stares haplessly as Kanda's smirk crawls across his face while he dresses.

He was a—

Again, the silence continues and Allen stares down—body still trying to not be male at that particular moment. He knew it. He really damn knew it. Kanda is a witch.

A witch with the power to apparently bring out the fetishes he isn't aware he had. Considering that Kanda had never really displayed himself in such an open manner—because there is no convincing Allen that this wasn't a show—Allen never really did act like such a… But this was designed to screw with Allen's… What a complete asshole.

"Yeah. We will see about it, Exhibitionist," he grouses and lays back flat once more with an irritable groan.

Actually, he's learned that Kanda is all of three things: A horrible Military Grade Torture Specialist, a High Level Witch, and an Exhibitionist. The worst of the absolute worst and Allen rolls over, damning his very existence for being so easily swayed by a stupid Asian man who constantly prickles him with barbed words and cruel teasing behavior.

Allen Walker is decidedly a masochist.

…And apparently a voyeur.

A/N: This was a little thing I wrote for a few people on Tumblr. It was meant to highlight at least one thing, Kanda's sun soaked ass. YesI'mTerribleForJumpinOnThis. It turned into a comedy like I do. With a plethora of dick jokes. If I need to up the rating, let me know.