“Why is he chasing us?!” Allen paced the length of the train car, appearing on the verge of ripping his hair out root by root. “We made a deal! I would get the money and he would leave Amélie alone!”
“Quit yelling, brat,” Cross said, setting down his bottle of Pinot Noir. He was far too sober for this shit. “He’s a Noah. What did you expect?”
“But it’s Tyki we’re talking about,” Allen said, turning on him with face full of worn features and wide eyes. “He has this weird...complex.” He made a vague gesture with his hands. “I know he cares for those people, so why is he doing this?”
Amélie sat in silence across the booth from Cross, watching the two with calculating eyes. She must have thought they were insane.
“A Noah,” Cross repeated, “is all he is. And the Noah of Pleasure at that. He’ll do whatever the hell he wants to if there’s some gain to it. And, in case you’ve forgotten, there’s quite a large profit in it for him if he gets his hands on us.” He gestured his half-empty bottle toward Amélie and then one of Allen’s bags—the one with the money he’d conned. “We have a new exorcist with no idea what she’s doing, a broad sum of cash that he’ll no doubt use for his own means, and a lousy General who’s going to get himself killed because of every sliver of humanity he sees.”
Allen stilled at that and looked at him, pursing his lips softly. His gaze fell with a sigh as he slumped down into one of the booths, putting his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry…” he said, voice muffled in his palms. “I thought—”
“I know what you thought,” Cross spat. “You thought that you could continue to play on the sidelines without aligning to either side of this blasted war. You thought that you had the answer to everything. And you thought that you could get away with cheating God’s will. Well, my stupid pupil, you thought wrong—now get the hell over it already. We have more important things to worry about than your self-sacrificial sulking.”
Allen took a deep breath and sat up, expression kept carefully blank. That’s right, Cross thought. Keep up that Poker Face for as long as you can. You’re going to need it.
“You’re right,” Allen said. “Thank you, Master.” Cross scoffed, taking another swig from the bottle. On second thought, he up-ended it and downed the entire thing before slamming it back down on the table. Amélie jumped.
“I’d like to remind you,” he began, “that the only reason we’re running right now is because of you.” He pointed to Amélie, who blinked. “You’re a liability to us and we can’t afford to lose a new exorcist, especially not one Klaud sought out. I’m still clueless as to why she left you there after implanting the Innocence into you.” He rubbed at his head, and after a moment, Amélie spoke, softly at first, but her volume grew as realization seemed to trickle onto her face.
“She… I remember she told me something before I left,” she said, brows knitting together. “She said that I’d find someone. Or...someone would find me…” She shook her head. “Someone I would probably hate, but she said I would have to trust them.” Cross looked at her again and raised his eyebrow. “I thought she was crazy so I ran away after that.”
“Then let me ask you something,” Cross said, leaning back in his seat. “What are your thoughts on us?” He nodded toward Allen. “Honestly.”
Amélie was quiet for a moment, glancing between the two, and then she took a breath. “I think you’re both mad.” He knew it. “I think that you’re going to bring me somewhere that I’ll hate, and I think there’s a good chance that I might die while I’m there.” Cross snorted lightly. “Madame Noémie had a look on her face that she never gets unless she’s really worried,” she clarified. “And...I think that no matter what I say, you’re going to take me wherever it is we’re going anyway.”
“But?” Cross urged. Amélie sighed.
“But,” she agreed with a nod, “...I trust you.”
“So she left you there on purpose just so we’d find you,” Cross inferred. “I imagine this is supposed to be some sort of revenge from the last time I courted her.”
“‘Courted’!” Allen repeated with a burst of laughter. “You got shit-faced drunk and chased her monkey around with a wine glass when it foiled your less-than-admirable advances.” Cross shot him a sidelong glare.
“I don’t need to be reminded,” he said. Allen was too busy giggle-snorting at the memory to care about Cross dead-eyeing him, much less reply. “Anyway, I trust that Klaud’s roundabout passive-aggressive attempts to ruin my life haven’t caused you much trouble?” He turned back to Amélie. “Considering the existence of your Innocence has only been brought to our attention now.” The brunette shook her head.
“I had no idea until now,” she said.
“Good. Now.” He lowered his voice and leaned forward while Allen was distracted with wiping the tears from his eyes. “Eleven clients plus a Noah is a rather impressive achievement for one week,” he said, and the understanding flashed in Amélie’s eyes without missing a beat. “I’m very interested in discovering the entirety of your charm.”
If Allen hadn’t been suspicious when Cross had told him to stay put while he disappeared into a different train car with Amélie, then the new ink-like markings that had appeared on various parts of his body when they returned an hour and a half later were enough to set him off on a blushing, screeching lecture about decency and his lack thereof.
As it turned out, they were able to meet the finder sent to retrieve Amélie without difficulty. A few Akuma encounters here and there, but no Noah. The fact left them all on edge, and all four pairs of eyes were wide open as they hiked through a forest shortcut to the next town, where there was an inn allied with the Order that would provide them horses (no carriage this time, unfortunately).
“Amélie,” the finder, Viktor, said in a heavy Russian accent, “you must stay out of the way if we run into more trouble. The exorcists can handle Akuma, but if things get bad you and I will have to leave them and get to safety.”
“I understand,” Amélie said quietly. Allen walked beside her and smiled.
“Don’t worry. Master and I are both Generals. We can handle ourselves,” he said. “Viktor has ways of protecting you. You’ll be just fine.” Amélie smiled back, but said nothing more. Allen cast a glance over his shoulder at Cross, but the redhead simply shrugged.
They made it to the inn, still without any grueling encounters. The innkeeper’s wife was very friendly with Cross, but not overly so in light of the scowl her husband kept trained on them. There was a single redheaded boy amoungst the other three, brown-haired children of the couple whom no one made any explicit reference toward as the party saddled up their horses. They would only take two: Viktor would ride with Amélie and Cross with Allen, much to the latter’s dismay, but he didn’t waste much time on complaining.
They rode hard and fast, never taking any well-known roads or paths, and using as many obscure shortcuts as they could. Still no sign of Tyki or the other Noah Clansmen. Cross was beginning to get uneasy.
“Master.” Allen spoke only loud enough for Cross to hear over his shoulder, arms tightening around the elder in case his voice hadn’t reached him. There was no question in his tone.
“I know,” Cross said, glancing to the two riding atop the horse in front of them.
Something wasn’t right.
They endured a while longer of silent riding, but it was then that the answer to their troubled thoughts revealed itself. Cross saw Amélie’s form slipping to the side, and he called out for Viktor to stop as he yanked on the reins of his own horse. Allen swung down and ran to catch the girl just as she toppled over, and Cross and Viktor dismounted their horses to hurry over.
“Amélie? Amélie!” Allen shook the girl, whose bi-coloured face seemed pale.
“I...I don’t feel well…”
Those were the only words she could get out before a crease appeared in her skin directly down the centre of her collarbone.
A swarm of purple butterflies exploded from her chest. Her eyes bulged and the light in them dulled. Her mouth hung open in a scream she never voiced as her body was forced open to release more of the Tease.
“No!” Allen cried hoarsely. He clung to Amélie when Viktor tried to pull him away, and Cross had to pry his arms from her lifeless body. He jerked the boy from the finder’s hands and pulled him to his own body, backing away from the stream of butterflies that finally began to peter out as they massed in the sky above them. The noise of their wings was deafening, but as they watched, the butterflies dispersed in all directions. Likely in order to conceal where they were really going, Cross imagined. His face was taut in a grimace, and he tightened his arms around Allen when he finally held onto the elder General.
Allen didn’t cry, but his body shook, and he refused to move his head from where he hid his face in Cross’s shoulder. Viktor focused on calming the horses and tying them down. All three of them averted their eyes from the corpse on the ground.
“...I see,” Komui voice said through the black golem. He could be heard rubbing his face through the transmission. “That’s...very unfortunate. There’s nothing you could have done?” he asked. Cross sighed.
“No. The Tease must have already been inside of her before we even got there,” he said. He looked over at Allen, who sat on the ground with his knees tucked to his chest, distracted eyes staring into the fire they had built. Viktor was cleaning up from the light meal they’d forced themselves to eat before night fell. Cross looked away again.
“I understand. Please have Viktor return to his unit,” Komui said. “You and Allen are on standby. You can return to Headquarters if you’d like, but…”
“We’ll keep in touch,” Cross said instead. Komui gave his confirmation and ended the transmission. Cross grabbed the golem and tucked it into his coat, and only then did Timcanpy flutter over to rest on his shoulder. He reached up to caress his creation with a finger, then gathered the golden ball in his hand and held him out toward Allen. Timcanpy nuzzled his palm before flitting over the the white-haired exorcist, burrowing right into the crook of his neck and shoulder.
Allen blinked and his lips twitched as he lifted a hand to pat the golem, then turned to Cross with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. With a soft groan of exertion from the effort, Cross stood and walked over, but instead of sitting next to Allen, he sat behind him (conveniently putting his back against the trunk of a tree), his legs bracketing his former apprentice on either side. Allen looked over his shoulder.
“Master—?” Cross didn’t give him time to argue as he circled his arms around him and pulled him to his chest, eliciting a quiet squeak. If Viktor thought the gesture was odd, he didn’t say so or give any indication he even cared at all.
“Shut up. Get some sleep,” the redhead said. Allen sat there, frozen, for a minute before sighing and turning around to lean back against Cross. Timcanpy was more than happy to nudge himself against both men, wings curling around his spherical body.
Soon enough, the boy was snoring softly, having adjusted his body until he was turned slightly to the side, and from a particular angle, one might have thought they were cuddling. He didn’t linger on the thought, instead telling Viktor to grab one of the blankets he’d brought along with him and drape it over Allen’s body. Both Cross and the finder took turns keeping watch that night, and both kept their eyes carefully averted from the body wrapped in a white sheet tied with ropes lying to the side of their camp.
The Generals parted ways with the finder at daybreak. Viktor would take the body back to his unit and they would deliver it to Headquarters for the funeral ceremony. Cross couldn’t help but wonder just what those bastard higher-ups intended to do with Amélie’s Innocence. For some reason he doubted Central would bat an eyelash at the carcass of an exorcist with unrefined Innocence. After what they did to those two boys, and the CROWS… He wouldn’t put anything past them.
“Are you going back to Headquarters?” Allen asked once Viktor had left, leaving them with their single horse. Cross scratched his head.
“No. They can find me if they need me,” he said. He looked at Allen. “Are you?”
Allen thought it over, then looked down the road they stood on the side of. After a moment, he turned back to Cross and smiled softly. “I think I’ll spend some time away. They don’t need me right now.” The redhead raised a brow.
“Are you sure you won’t miss your friends?” he asked. “It’s not like you to want to stay away from them.”
“It’s not them I want to stay away from,” Allen said, sighing. Cross reached out and took him by the shoulder, pulling him close. This time Allen wrapped his arms around the older man without question. They embraced silently for an undetermined amount of time, but then Allen pulled back just enough to grab Cross’s hand. He kissed the man’s wrist, and looked up at him with a vulnerability in his eyes that Cross knew far too well. He adjusted his hand to hold Allen’s instead, bringing his knuckles to his lips.
“Let’s find an inn.”
They did. Cross sat on the bed and held Allen until he fell asleep, and then Cross fell asleep too. In the morning they checked out and traveled until they came to Perugia, Italy. They found a small, cheap place on the outskirts of town to rent for the time being. It wasn’t luxurious by any means, but they had a fire, a warm bed, and a roof over their heads, and the landlord offered to go to the market for food if they paid for it, so they mostly stayed indoors. At this point they were used to sharing a bed, seeing as it had been cheaper at all the inns they’d stayed at on the way here. Cross had become comfortable sleeping in the nude again at some point along the way, and Allen had acted scandalized at first, but it was nothing he’d never seen before.
The first night in their rented house, Allen decided to follow suit and strip completely before crawling into bed. Literally. Cross’s eyes were glued to his milky, scarred skin as he prowled from the foot of the bed onward. He plucked Cross’s glasses from his face, setting them beside his discarded mask, and draped his body over the redhead’s already bare one.
Cross didn’t ask any questions, and Allen voiced no wonder as to why. He simply kissed back when Cross found his lips, and arched into his body when callous, tanned hands roamed down his sides. Cross’s tongue claimed his mouth, and he squeezed the supple cheeks when his palms trailed down low enough. Allen tangled his fingers in cascading red hair, gasping against his lips when Cross rolled his hips upwards. He spread the boy’s ass in his grasp, but didn’t let his fingers wander too close to his entrance, and Allen got the message.
He broke the kiss to sit up, still straddling the redhead’s waist. Cross’s eyes followed Allen’s hand as it started from his thigh, slowly drifting upward, over his hardening cock and along his toned abdomen and chest, and finally to his lips. He sucked in three fingers without pause, tongue slipping between and around them as a trail of spittle glistened down his chin. Cross softly kneaded the younger’s thighs as he watched, gradually coming to life between his legs. When Allen was satisfied, he removed his fingers and reached behind himself, and Cross’s gaze fell as he watched one, two, all three fingers disappear inside his ass. Allen’s voice rose above him, head tilting backward as he began thrusting his hand. He started slowly, but quickly gained speed and stretched his fingers as he prepared himself.
Cross moved one hand between Allen’s legs, savouring the shudder and subsequent moan as he took the swollen cock into his grasp. He stroked lightly and languidly, fingers loose around the boy’s shaft. His thumb brushed over his slit which already leaked pre-cum, and he spread the fluid over his length. He gave a few more soft pumps before lowering his hand to the sensitive balls just below. He rolled them in his palm, squeezing gently and massaging as he waited.
After what seemed like eternity, Allen’s hand stilled and pulled out, leaving him panting above his former teacher. The tip of his cock was red with need, slit glistening, but he wasn’t so far gone as to forget one very important step. He scooted down Cross legs, then bent forward to hover his mouth over the much larger endowment. He dragged his tongue up the length, and Cross groaned when he sucked on the tip. He continued to tease with his tongue for a few excruciating moments before he decided to have mercy. With a kind of skill Cross could never have guessed his fickle little not-apprentice would have, Allen took the cock into his mouth and did not stop until his nose was buried in the red curls around the base.
Another moan escaped him as Cross threaded his fingers into the head of silver hair between his legs, and the hum he got in return made him bite his lip. Allen’s tongue laved over his length as he pulled back, only to drop down again to swallow Cross’s dick down his throat. He kept this up until, when he pulled off completely with a wet pop, a string of saliva and pre-cum connected his red lips to the tip. He leaned down to lick it off, earning a sound from Cross that was too gruff to be a whimper, and then crawled forward until he was back in his previous position.
Allen wasted no time in sheathing Cross’s cock deep inside of him, and they both moaned loudly at the sensation. Allen’s walls were incredibly hot around his thick, hard cock, and they clenched just enough to edge him that much closer to climax, and they’d only just begun.
However, Cross decided he’d let Allen have enough control over the situation. He brought his hands to the boy’s hips and gripped them tightly. Once Allen realized Cross wasn’t going to let him move on his own anymore, he let himself be lifted and slammed back down. He threw back his head with a cry of pleasure as Cross repeated the action over and over, his own hips thrusting up to meet Allen’s every time he came down. He set a fast, rough pace, somehow knowing without being told that Allen wouldn’t have let him be gentle if he’d wanted to. The unspoken agreement suited them both just fine.
The wet slap of skin-on-skin filled the room along with their noises of pleasure. Sex, sweat, and musk filled Cross’s nose, and he spared one hand to grab Allen’s hair and drag him down to his lips. Their tongues slid against each other hotly, panted breaths mixing as the new angle allowed Cross more room to thrust. He returned both hands to Allen’s hips, pounding into him relentlessly as their mixed spittle escaped their mouths in the heat of the moment.
When Cross felt Allen’s muscles flutter around his cock in the first sign of his impending climax, he stopped his hips only in order to flip them around. Now hovering over the younger boy, he let him fend for himself as he moved his hands from his hips. The force of his thrusts pushed Allen back against the pillows, and the headboard banged against the wall in time with their rhythm. Allen moaned beautifully, fingers clenched in the sheets at his sides. One of Cross’s hands flattened against his stomach, holding him down as the other hooked under one of his knees and brought it over his shoulder. Allen’s back arched with the next thrust, voice ringing out.
“There—!” He squeezed his eyes shut. “There there there—” he panted out with every collision of their hips. Cross drove into him harder, leaning forward and nearly bending the boy in half. Lucky he was flexible. His mouth was all over Allen: his chest, his nipples, his shoulder, his neck. He left several bite marks and twice as many hickeys in his wake, uncaring for whether or not they would be visible. He wanted people to know. He wanted everyone to know that he had claimed Allen Walker as more than his idiot apprentice.
“Beautiful,” he whispered into Allen’s ear, delivering a particularly hard thrust right into his prostate. “You’re beautiful.” Allen cried out, his voice filled with pleasure and something else, something more profound. It bordered on a sob, but Cross could feel the deep, rapid beat of his heart under his palm, and he knew the tears in his eyes were from neither pain nor sadness.
“Master, I’m—Master—” Allen couldn’t get out the words, but he didn’t need to. Cross redoubled his efforts and lowered his hand between their bodies. He grabbed Allen’s cock and pumped it in time with his thrusts, squeezing just enough to make Allen shudder and moan loudly. It was only a few more seconds before he released all over his stomach and Cross’s hand, streaking white across his skin. His voice wavered and broke, jaw slack as proof of his ecstasy escaped him.
Without giving him time to recover, Cross pulled out only to flip Allen onto his hands and knees. Grabbing his hips again, he penetrated him once more, and Allen screamed from the over-stimulation. His silver-white hair stuck to his sweaty face and the pillow, and he arched his back to press his chest to the mattress, pushing his ass against Cross’s hips. The redhead groaned wantonly and leaned forward to tease the back of Allen’s shoulders with his lips, tongue, and teeth. Allen’s voice was unrestrained, and tears streamed down his cheeks as Cross defiled him, broke him, delivered him. It was depraved. It was sinful.
Cross took Allen’s reawakening dick in his hand again and stroked him. When at last Cross reached his Nirvana, his growl of Allen’s name sent the boy over the edge a second time. He came onto the sheets below him with a broken cry while the elder’s load shot into him, filling him blissfully as Cross milked his release and rutted against him to relieve them both of every drop. Finally he stilled, and they collapsed on the bed beside each other in a sweaty, stained heap. Deep breaths filled the silence as a satisfied exhaustion overcame Cross. He stared at the ceiling in a daze, Allen’s chest heaving in his periphery. The realization of their actions slowly washed over him.
Before he could say a word, Allen’s lips were covering his. He made a noise into the kiss, but eventually just reached out to pull the boy close.
“I’m sorry,” he found himself saying between kisses. Allen paused. “For everything.” The boy broke away from him to prop himself up on his elbow, and Cross met those pale, lavender eyes that looked at him from a flushed face with swollen lips, disheveled hair falling around his complexion.
He was beautiful.
Cross Marian never thought he would live to see the day he fell in love.