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Completely Optional	By : dualsided Category: +. to F > D. Gray Man Views: 1659 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own D.Gray-Man and do not make any money off of this.

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- 1-Completely Optional
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Title: Completely Optional
Request: The Fourteenth!Allen/Link, dubcon, bloodplay, orgasm denial. Because Fourteenth!Allen is hot as hell and I would like snarky bottom!Link hating himself for liking what Allen is doing to him. :DDDD
Summary: The Fourteenth likes playing games. But he doesn't like losing... Or does he? With every loss, he sends himself back into the recesses of Allen's mind via Sword of Exorcism. He promises to leave for good if Link can win seven games.

This is the seventh game.

Completely Optional

"Let's play a game, Howard~"

Pale flesh bares itself to the rays of moonlight, lunar drops reflecting off of small puddles of crimson red. White stirs, cloth spreads, eyelids flutter open. Pale emerald orbs stare down, discreetly concerned.

"..Walker." Link breathes out softly, almost a sigh, but not quite. "Are you unharmed?"

Silver chromatic eyes gaze blankly upward, looking at the Inspector, looking through him. Tired. So tired.

Allen Walker shakes his head minutely, barely even a tilt of his chin. But Link understands.

The Inspector heads into the hotel's bathroom and returns with a washcloth in a basin of water. Squeezing out the excess, Link rinses off the dried blood from Allen's face, from the corner of his lips, cleans it off the ivory column of bared neck, all with an expression set in stone. The Exorcist lets out a shuddering breath, and the corner of Link's mouth twitches.

"If I win, I get to stay."

His eyes are still open and blank. And when he speaks, it's in a soft, soft whisper, as though there were a sleeping babe just nearby. As though he's afraid it will wake up.

Something will wake up.

"..It wasn't as bad this time."

It's more of a question a statement.

"No," Link nods faintly, wiping a streak of scarlet from the boy's shoulder. "It wasn't."

"Not as bad as the first time..."

"No." Link nods again, ridding the other shoulder of its matching red streak. "It wasn't."

"Not as bad as the second..."

"No." Just above Allen's clavicle, this smear. "It wasn't."

"Or the third.. the fourth.. the.."

Link frowns. He light taps the side of Allen's cheek.

"Walker. Walker, wake up."

Allen breathes lightly. Asleep? Perhaps.

Link sighs, removes the talismans from Allen's arms and legs, and returns to washing the rest of the blood from his charge's chest. Just like last time, the time before that, and the time before that, he reflects. Reflects on what's been happening since the first incident. Reflects on what Allen Walker is not aware of.

"If you win, I'll leave."

Howard Link reflects on the Fourteenth Noah.

Six. Six times. Once wasn't enough. Nor was twice. Nor thrice, nor four times, but six.

Link is somewhat grateful that the Noah has enough sense to run the Sword of Exorcism through the same scar all six times. Somewhat. The Inspector doesn't know what effect it's having on Allen's body, but it's much better than seeing six similar scars running the length of Allen's torso. Not that he'll admit it.

His job is only to watch over the boy, after all. Not take care of him.

"So~ Let's play the game, Howard."

No. Howard Link doesn't have to make sure Allen Walker receives first aid when he stabs himself with his Innocence. Howard Link doesn't have to make sure Allen Walker eats his dinner after that. Howard Link doesn't have to tell Allen Walker to go to sleep later that night. Howard Link doesn't have to.

"What kind of person am I, hmm~?"

But he does.

With the stained rag and the basin of water, the Inspector rises and moves for the bathroom, intending to dump out the dirty water and refill it, just to make sure Allen is fully clean.

Link freezes in the doorway, hearing the inaudible groan behind him.

It's not the same groan Allen makes when he wakes up. It's not a pained groan of one who has just woken after having their limbs bound to the ground for hours straight. Hell, it's not even pained, despite that Link has only just released those talismans from binding Allen's arms and legs down to the ground for the past few hours.

Maybe he should've waited a little longer.

"Oh, my oh my..." A light, airy laughter-- as airy as Allen's tones can be. "..It's a lot worse than last time, isn't it?"

Yes. Maybe he should've waited.

"Ah~ no matter. Let's resume our game, Howard." A pause, an ashen hand circling around Link's waist. "..You do remember the rules, don't you?"

Link grips the basin tightly. He refuses to turn around, refuses to look anywhere but straight ahead. He doesn't want to risk seeing that dark-lipped smile on Allen's face.

"Seven times, Howard. You have to guess who I am seven times."

"This is the seventh time, Howard. Seven's a pretty lucky number, don't you think?"

Hot breath ghosts over his ear, moist and heady. A tongue flicks out.

"Do you feel lucky, Howard~?"

Link's hand twitches. The skin of his ear burns where the wet appendage grazed it. He hates that feeling, it's too much like Allen-- it is Allen, but it isn't. It isn't.

He doesn't know when the boy started affecting him the way it did, and he does try so hard to hide his emotions like a good ~~dog of the Vatican~~ Inspector. Fourteenth or otherwise, Link keeps his mouth shut, knowing that he only one chance to guess, and anything he say can and will be used against him.

"A sick, cruel person? No, no, of course not, Howard! That's the wrong answer~"

Link hates the feeling of not being in control. Especially right now.

"But I'm feeling nice today, so I'll give you a second chance."

The arm detaches from around his waist and takes the basin from Link's stiff hands, dumping the pinkish red contents into the sink with a splash. The basin itself is tossed out the door, landing on the floor with a thump and rolling away.

"What shall we do today, hm~?"

The door shuts, clicks, locks. Link swallows.

"What kind of game would be fun..?"

Sometimes he wonders why he hasn't turned Allen in for becoming a constant danger to the Order. He wonders why he's protecting the 15, 16-year-old Exorcist.

Oh, right.

Link doesn't have to.

"That's the sixth time you've won, Howard. Just one more. Let's see if you can win all seven times~"

But he does anyway.

Smooth, ashen fingers grip the Inspector's chin and jerk it to the side, damp lips pressing against the shell of his ear.

"I'm talking to you, Howard," the Noah hisses lowly. "Do be a gentleman and reply. Please."

Link's right hand flicks out the hidden switchblade on reflex. He shifts his weight, angles his shoulders and shoves back in a way that knocks the Noah off balance and leaves him open for attack. He strikes.

The blade screeches against black, Allen's left arm, held up to block it. Innocence fingers curl around his wrist before he can pull away, and he swings with his other arm.

The Fourteenth catches that, too, rendering his attempt futile.

"Tsk tsk tsk..." Eyes once a silver chrome now glimmer a dangerous ocher, crinkling at the corners as he smiles. The Noah wiggles a black finger admonishingly. "Naughty, Howard. We haven't chosen today's game yet~"

"Then, by all means," Link grinds out through a clenched jaw. "Hurry up and get it over with."

Still smiling, the Fourteenth makes an appreciative hum, slitted pupils dilating marginally as they travel downward from Link's hard-set jaw, down to the tense muscles in his neck, dipping behind the collared shirt, under the sleek vest, well-fitted pants--

--very well-fitted.

The Noah looks up again, and stops at the light green tie. His smile widens, and Link swallows again.

"I've got an idea..~"

That's all the Fourteenth says before he maneuvers both of Link's very much protesting arms into one hand, using the Innocence one to reach out and slowly undo the tie around the Inspector's neck.

He's already struggling to get free. It's only when the strip of silk wraps around his wrists that he starts to get an idea of what the Fourteenth wants. Barely.

"Fourteenth, what--?!"

The loops are tightened with a tug and a questioning hum, and Link is suddenly facing the interior of the white sink as the Noah fastens the remainder of the tie around the faucet. The Inspector props his elbows up on the sides of the sink somehow, trying to squirm away from the fingers trailing down his chest, making short work of the buttons on his vest and shirt.

Two palms press against his chest , one rough and warm, the other smooth and cool. He hisses.

"Shhhh..."

Two sets of fingers dig into his skin, dragging out shallow gashes, to which Link clenches his fists tightly. In the silence of the hotel's small bathroom, Link hears the first drop of blood hit the ceramic sink.

drip. drip. drip.

"You're so tense, Howard..." the Noah murmurs, lips at his ear again. He nibbles this time, taking the lobe between his teeth and tugging.. gently.. at it "I... think.. you need.. to loosen up, Howard."

The Fourteenth's fingers-- Allen's, Allen's body, not his --no longer dig in, instead pressing into certain spots that make Link shudder. The counter top is cold under his stomach, just like the fingers prodding at his abdomen.

The left hand hurriedly unbuckles link's belt, unzips his pants and yanks them down, and the blonde has to bite down on his bottom lip to stop the groan when a rough hand grabs his length through his boxers.

"..What do you want, Fourteenth?" Link manages to rasp out before the hand can do any more--

A quick jerk, and he sucks in a sharp breath, fighting the haze that's beginning to invade his mind.

"I want you to loosen up, Howard," is the reply. The hand around him leaves briefly to slide the undergarments off, and Link makes a strangled sort of sound as his length hits cool air, only to be suddenly engulfed in the rough warmth of Allen's left hand. "Relax~"

But he can't. Not when the cool fingers are clawing at his stomach, digging and squeezing, pinching his flesh, and Link can see those fingers coating themselves in his blood just before he screws his eyes shut in pain.

"You're 19, aren't you?" The lips smile, he can tell. "Well, that's older than me, at least-- not counting the time I've been dead. 19 is a fine age to relax, Howard~"

His jaw tightens until the joints creak and protest, refusing to make a single sound. He won't give the Noah the satisfaction of hearing him. Link has a rather clear idea of what's to come next, and he doesn't have a good feeling about it.

Sure enough, when the clawing stops and the dripping returns, Link tries to focus on something, anything, anything but the soft, slick appendages probing at his anus. A finger swirls and presses in, and Link is trying not to think about it, but rather about yesterday's report which has yet to be written or turned in.

The distraction works.

At least, until the second finger pushes in next to the first. But even that is bearable, to a certain extent. All that training he's done in the CROW unit, it has to be good for something. All that's left is ignoring that uncomfortable feeling of the two fingers scissoring back and forth, pushing deeper and deeper and--

A muscle in his thigh spasms and suddenly, Link has the sudden urge to-- to urinate. Of course, he knows he can't just ask, it's humiliating and the Fourteenth wouldn't let him, anyway, and-- and suddenly that feeling is gone, and all that's left is oh my God.

A strangled sort of groan falls from his tight-lipped frown when a smooth thumb presses over the slit, stroking up the length of his member with firm yet gentle touches. He figures it's supposed to be a distraction from the pain of having fingers shoved up his-- his arse, but, really, it's--

--It's working really, really well.

.....At least, until the third finger joins the fray.

At that point, Link is trying desperately to both get away from those fingers as well as to somehow get his hands free. But the necktie has been knotted tightly and securely, and Link really doesn't see any way to get it untied.

"..Is this your first time, Howard?" The Fourteenth's soft whisper next to his ear makes him freeze-- well, that, along with the hand squeezing his erection (of which he is trying to deny) and the fingers probing that spot again. "You're Christian, aren't you? This must be your first time."

The ministrations are gentler now, gentler than before. The Noah's fingers push forward slowly, unhurried, slowly pressing and scissoring around. The rough hand strokes gently, tantalizingly slowly, and for a moment, Link is almost convinced that-- that Allen is back, that the Fourteenth has had his fun.

"..Don't worry." The tone is caring, so caring, light and loving.

So Howard Link looks up.

All he can see is that wide, freakish grin pasted on Allen's lips, canines gleaming under the bathroom light, cat-like golden eyes staring straight at him from the mirror.

"It's my first time, too~"

Another flashing smile and the Fourteenth's-- Allen's --head dips down. The fingers leave, wiping on his pants briefly before the soft sigh of a zipper reaches Link's ears. The forehead adorned with crosses rests itself on Link's shoulder as the cool hand gropes up his stomach again and, once more, digs into his muscles.

With an unhappy growl (certainly not a whimper, because Howard Link does not whimper), the Inspector twists away from the hand, only to have it follow and dig even harder, scratching through his skin. The previous wounds have clotted but not healed, and the new movement is only making them open up again.

The Noah cups his hand under the scratches and collects the slowly dripping blood, bringing it back to where Link can't see, but he can guess what's happening. The Fourteenth's breathing is hitched, laced with soft gasps and quiet sounds. All the while, the Innocence hand continues stroking and pumping Link's nearly weeping length, and he tries hard not to moan or make a single utterance of pleasure.

A blunt tip presses up against his backside and he freezes again.

"Sorry, Howard."

The apology is uttered loudly, resounding in the small bathroom and echoing in Link's ears. It catches him off guard, just as the Noah runs his hand up to the blonde's torso and pushes forward swiftly. The head sinks in, slick with pre-cum and blood as crude lubrication, and the Fourteenth's moan, soft though it is, drowns out Link's own choked sound.

"This is going to hurt a bit."

It's that kind and gentle tone again. Link forces himself to look up, and sure enough-- it's not Allen's angelic smile he sees, not an apologetic one, but a dark, twisted smile, a smile that isn't caring or benevolent at all. It's not Allen.

The corner of the Noah's lips twitch upward, grinning wider, and he snaps his hips upward, shoving all the way in in one go. The burn is agonizing, painfully slow despite the speed of the thrust, and it's even more pronounced with the slap of skin against skin.

Link digs his nails into the palms of his hands, breathing erratically in a sorry attempt to stay calm and composed. His only satisfaction is seeing the Fourteenth just as disheveled as he is, resting forehead and cheek against the Inspector's back, panting shakily.

"T-tell me.." The Noah stutters, grip tightening around Link's erection. "..tell me when. When to move."

Link wastes no time. He wants this humiliation over and done with.

"Move."

There is no pleasure for Howard Link, save from the hand enclosing his length. The Noah starts slowly, unrushed, as though waiting for the Inspector to adjust to the size. But Link doesn't want that-- he refuses to enjoy any of this.

"Faster, Fourteenth," Link hisses, clenching his teeth when the Noah complies to his demand.

Faster, not harder. Nothing that will contribute to Link's enjoyment. Anything, as long as the Noah finishes up quickly. The burning pain has yet to subside, and that's fine. Link is not a masochist, but he'd rather die than find any pleasure in sodomy.

"H-How-ard.." The name is muttered, pitched and dotted with moans and panting. The rhythmic sound of skin striking skin is loud in his ear, along with the moan that follows it. "Howard.."

At some point, Link realizes that he's making sounds, too. Soft little whimpers, ragged panting, and just barely-concealed moans. The hand has all but ceased touching and stroking, so where is this-- this pleasure, where is it coming from?

"A-ah," a faint moan passes through Link's lips as the result of a particularly deep thrust. He briefly remembers where those fingers were, and prays to God that the Noah doesn't plan on going anywhere near there again. But, he must've done something wrong today, because his prayers are ignored. "Ahh--"

"You like this, don't you?" The Noah's sultry tones send a shiver down his spine, arching down involuntarily into the hand rubbing circles on his chest. "You like being fucked."

Link shakes his bowed head, finding it hard to breathe properly with the forbidden pleasure searing itself into his limbs and increasing the pressure in his gut. Hearing Allen's voice speaking such obscenities only makes more blood go straight down to his groin. Another poorly muffled moan makes its way out of his throat as that spot is hit again, and he briefly wonders if this is really the Noah's first time...

..Or if he's just playing around.

"F-Fourteenth.." Oh, how he hates himself for sounding so needy, for enjoying this.. this sodomy. "..Is this really your first time?"

"Hnn.." The Noah whimpers, muttering something in reply and angling his hips just so to make Link's thighs spasm once more. "Ah--!"

That last thrust is just enough to send the Inspector over the edge, jerking and shuddering as he spills into Allen's rough Innocence hand. The subsequent clenching of his arse, apparently, is the ending line for the Noah as well. The Fourteenth gives one final, deep thrust into Link's body, releasing with a soft cry at the tight heat around him.

It's warm. So utterly warm and somehow comfortable that Link wouldn't mind falling asleep right now. The cool-yet-warm hand still rubbing circles on his chest, brushing over his yet-to-heal injuries. The hot, rough-textured hand milking every last drop from his flaccid length. The erratic breathing from moist lips against his neck. The odd fiery heat inside him.

And, yet, Howard Link can still find strength to hate himself for feeling this way. He wants to tell himself that it's only because it's Allen, because it's Allen fucking Walker. That he's not feeling this way because of the Noah, because of what the Fourteenth did to him, but because of--

"..Today, Howard," the Fourteenth breathes out next to his ear. He drags both palms up to Link's chest, leaving a sticky trail of ejaculate along the way, and presses them flat against his skin. "Today.. what am I, today?"

"You.." Link gulps down air like a fish out of water. He tells himself it's only the adrenaline from having his skin pierced by blunt nails. Twice. "..You're a goddamned liar."

In response to his response, the Noah laughs. Laughs. Laughs. Shoulders shaking, arms wrapped tight around Link's torso, face pressed into the crook of Link's neck, the Fourteenth laughs in delight. For a moment, the blonde doesn't know what to think. Has he won? No, surely not. The traitorous Noah wouldn't laugh like that if he lost. Is it over, then? Is the Noah here to stay?

"Wrong, Howard."

The words are growled into his ear, Link sees the half-lidded eyes and the grin from his peripheral. Allen's left arm dips down and makes a fist around his length again, tugging harshly as the other arm tightens its grip on Link's left shoulder. His hopes plummet in that moment.

"You're wrong."

Suddenly the pressure on his chest and shoulder is lifted. An ashen hand touches Link's chin, tilting his head to the side. A pair of gray-flesh lips press against the side of the Inspector's mouth, lightly, almost tenderly, before moving further to kiss him fully.

Warm.

Link keeps his eyes open, glaring daggers at the Noah's closed eyelids. He looks so peaceful, kissing him so gently. Link doesn't know whether to commit the texture of Allen's lips to memory, or to banish it from his mind forever.

"I'm not a liar today, Howard," the Noah murmurs against his mouth, stroking the Inspector's member harder, stronger, faster. "After all, I did tell one truth~"

Link has his head bowed again, clenching his jaw once more to stop the moans. The coil in his abdomen is building again, just like before, faster. But just when he thinks he'll reach completion again, the hand stops, and Link almost groans. Almost.

As it is, all the Noah gets is more heavy panting and another thin sheen of sweat making itself visible on Link's skin.

"I'm feeling nice today, Howard, so I'll give you another chance."

Both hands are gone, having moved up to untie the silk binding Link's hands to the faucet. There's less than a second of freedom before the Inspector finds himself shoved against the door, arms raised and tied to the doorknob.

Why don't I fight back? He asks himself. Why?

A wicked grin flashes across the Noah's face, a contrast to the gentle kiss not even two minutes ago.

Because this man is dangerous.

"If you can figure out the one truthful thing I said..." And he kisses Link again, lightly, chaste. Warm. "..I'll leave. For good."

The Noah's mouth descends, kisses the hollow of the Inspector's neck, nips at his collarbone, and moves down to lick at the smeared trail of translucent liquid. The tongue dips into his naval, swirling languidly before moving lower.

Link opens his eyes just in time to see his erection swallowed up in the mouth of one Noah in Allen Walker's body, and then shuts them just as fast because holy fucking shit that feels good-- but, no, Link will never admit it. So he bites his bottom lip again as a flush makes its way up his cheeks without his permission.

The heat is-- God --so good, and he almost hates himself for enjoying this treatment. Almost, because it's kind of hard to hate anything right now, when his legs are like jelly and his throat is making breathy moans and gasps of its own accord. His hips buck instinctively, trying to get more of that heat, more of that sucking sensation, even though he doesn't want it-- and he almost smirks in satisfaction when he hears the Noah gag.

Almost, because the Noah's-- Allen's --teeth graze against the underside of his length, and he's just about to lose it right then and there. But the Fourteenth is a sadistic maniac who seems to suddenly take pleasure in depriving men of their ograsms by tying a fucking neck ribbon around the base of his length.

Link curses and twists his leg to kick the Noah in the head.

The Fourteenth laughs again.

"So take a guess, Link." The traitor hums, lips pressed to the side of the swollen flesh, and the vibrations travel down the sensitive skin and up his spine. "If you guess wrong, I'll stay."

This man is a cheating bastard.

"If you guess right... if you can figure out the one truth I've uttered today.. you win. And I'll leave."

I'll leave you here. That's what he means to say.

Link hates that he has trouble choosing.

He wants to stop the Fourteenth. He wants Allen Walker back. He wants normal back.

A hot tongue caresses the tip of his length, and he swears under his breath, arching his back into the touch.

..But in the end, you know, he doesn't have to save the Destroyer of Time.

"Your age," Link rasps, fingers twitching above his head. "..You really are younger than me."

And he assumes that's a lie, because there's no way this Noah can be that talented and not be as old as Cross Marian (not that Link would know how talented Cross Marian is). Or maybe he's just looking down on his own inexperience.

The Noah stops moving for a moment, lips hovering just centimeters away from heated flesh, and a pensive look falls over his face. For a moment, Link thinks he's lost this game, this time around.

Maybe that's what he wanted.

But then the Fourteenth sighs (and here, Link does make a strangled groan at the hot air wafting over the wet skin) and leans back, resting his chin in his clean hand, and pouts

"..You win."

Link doesn't know whether to applaud his intuition or to curse his luck.

Sullenly, the Noah washes his hands, flicks them dry, and zips his pants back up. The ribbon is untied and he generously puts Link's pants back on for him, though he doesn't bother to clean him up. The necktie follows the red silk into the sink. In a flash, Link is on his feet, erection be damned, and shoving the Noah down onto the ground, switchblade at his neck.

Allen's head thumps against the bathroom tiles and he lets out a yelp, reaching up to nurse the bump, but freezing at the sharp pressure on his throat. Silver eyes blink up at the Link, bleary and unfocused from the collision.

"..Link?" The boy takes in ~~his stalker's~~ the Inspector's disheveled appearance, the fact that Link's clothes are unbuttoned, the slight flush on Link's cheeks, and stammers. "L-Link? What-- what did he do to you? Don't tell me he--"

"It's nothing, Walker." But Link doesn't let him up for another few seconds, until he's completely sure that 1) his hard-on is gone, and 2) that the Noah is not coming back.

Allen sits up and is immediately fussing over the half-moon punctures on Link's stomach and chest, and it's only when he starts asking about the stick white stuff that Link shoves him away and cleans himself up with a wet towel.

He doesn't have to protect Allen, after all. I mean, it's completely optional.

But he does anyway.

Then again, the Fourteenth is a liar, so who knows if that's really the last time he'll ever show up.

Fic/one-shot written for a request on dgmkinkmeme

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