#chapter5boron

[fanarchoslashivist]

Allen leaned against the doorway and watched as Kanda, stripped down to skin and loose gym pants, work through ghosts and smoke and countless unseen enemies in the big empty room.

Long arms already sheened with sweat, sleek biceps toned and rippling as the blade sang through the air, his hair pulled up in its tail, the cords of it snapping like whips with every shift of movement and sweep of metal.

While the sight of one’s target for verbal attack carrying a very real weapon might put a hitch in an average person’s argumentative stride, Allen’s interest and intent spiked.

If he was going to start a fight, he might as well do it when the man was hot and buff and sweaty.

And suitably armed.

[fanarchoslashivist]

Kanda did something he soon realized he probably shouldn’t have.

He grabbed the screaming, flailing Allen and pinned him down beneath his body.

[fanarchoslashivist]

Heaving air into his starved lungs He finally calmed, his body limp, shuddering helplessly beneath Kanda. His skin was slimed with sweat, the damp seeping into cloth to give him chills on top of his already frozen insides. “get up” his throat was hoarse from screaming, eyes puffy from weeping, pride shattered from doing it all in front of someone. He shoved at the man with clammy hands sore from abuse when Kanda didn’t move at first. “get off of me damn it, get off.”

He felt sick, His stomach twisted like a coiling foamy river rife with whitewater rapids and unseen boulders.