Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/3539642. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: D.Gray-man Relationship: Cross_Marian/Allen_Walker Character: Allen_Walker, Marian_Cross Additional Tags: Underage_-_Freeform Stats: Published: 2015-03-14 Words: 1902 ****** Paths ****** by sunshinekat Summary Allen cradles his past in a gentle grasp, hoping against hope that it doesn't fade away. That it remain with him so that when his master returns he can be here to welcome him home. [CROSS/ALLEN] [SLASH] underage&banned. A/N I'm returning so some old, loved fandoms, so yeah, I don't even care anymore. Cross/Allen is so forbidden, so deliciously forbidden.  ===============================================================================   It started when he turned thirteen. Hey, Allen...Come to think of it I’ve never asked you this before, but... Do you like Tim? I asked you to keep hold of him for me, but... ...To be honest I was always planning on giving him to you. Marian Cross...Master, suddenly began to allow Allen to explore the places they stayed at. Instead of the usual 'stay in here while I’m gone.' and it was like the whole world opened up to him. They had stayed in a lot of Inns where Allen was allowed to help in the kitchen to help pay for their room while his master was out playing. But some places weren’t so welcoming, filled with strangers and smoke that made Allen's head hurt. He understood these places were called Opium Dens but he'd never been allowed to explore. Always hidden away behind a curtain and told to keep quiet. Now he could step out and he'd see his Master sprawled out on a pile of colored cushions with a long pipe in his mouth smoke pouring from his lips like water. He'd glance at Allen and smirk, "Go on, take a look around, don't go getting yourself kidnapped." He did though, more often than not. Always in answer to his master's challenge and the innate need to rebel against the man who kept him prisoner. Even though he knew better, even though he understood that Cross Marian was his master, his caretaker, his guide. When things went wrong and Allen doubted himself he would always find his master sleeping or drinking but he would always find him. Allen would curl up in his lap during those times, even when he understood that he was too old to be doing such things. But his master brought him comfort as much as he brought him fear and pain and anger. At sixteen Allen understands that his time with his master wasn't exactly normal. But secrets don't stay secret for long in the Black Order and he knew that it wasn't just him. Kanda Yuu's master was a very tactile person, a painter. He painted all his apprentices just as his master had before them and when Kanda became general so would he. Allen thought, was sure, that if things had been different and being a general was an option for him he would never do to anyone what his master had done to him. He would never abandon them to pay his debts, and in that they would never have to learn to do the things that Allen had done in his life, or feel the way Allen had felt in his life. The time he spent with his master during the first summer of his thirteenth year his virginity was taken. Cross had taken him into a building filled with music and color one night and walked him through a thick crowd of drunk and singing people. He spoke to a woman in red and she led them both upstairs smiling at his master the whole way. She kissed Allen's cheek before she left. Then two other women came in, one older and one younger, the older one took his master to one side of the room, by the window where the moonlight shone on them. The younger girl took Allen's shaking hand and sat down beside him in a candle lit corner within view of his master. She put her mouth to him and moved his hands to her body, told him that he could do what he liked, that he didn't have to be nervous. Allen wasn't nervous, he was scared. Women were not a part of his life, more than that they were far away images in his life that he never understood but he respected them far too much to treat them the same way his master did. He pulled his hands away from her and stumbled through the dark to his master. He latched onto his master's arm, but it wasn't his master that he saw. This was Marian Cross. Unclothed, just lines of skin and corded muscle, long, thick red hair and hands holding a woman's hips as she moved above him moaning softly. Allen's eyes welled up with tears and he pulled and pulled at Cross's arm, telling him that this wasn't fun and he didn't want to play anymore. He wanted to understand this. Cross Marian stopped moving his hips, the woman continued but slowly, she dug her fingers into his chest and gasped softly, her whole body shuddering. Cross waved the woman away; she left with barely a glance back at them. Cross sat up and looked at Allen, "Don't you like the girl?" Allen shook his head, he didn't know where she was now and he didn't care. His whole body was trembling and the only place he wanted to be was right here, right now with his master. "Allen, you should do this while you have the chance." "Allen, we don't often get these chances." "Allen, this is the one chance you have, take it." "Allen, you can't enter the order if you're still pure." "Allen,-" Allen opened his mouth and spoke, to this day he couldn't recall what he said, and when he thought about those words now he imagined that perhaps he may have drank something or inhaled some of that smoke. Maybe they hadn't gone to a whorehouse after all, maybe this was just one of the nights they'd spent in the woods with no food and barely a fire to keep them warm. But the words he said made Cross Marian pull him into his arms. They made his hands move over Allen's body and under his clothes and linger over his skin. He remembered crying, not because he was scared, not because he didn't understand because he did. He knew what they were doing and he only wanted to because Cross Marian was his master. And his master watched out for him. Cross had never moved on top of him, had never put his weight down on Allen's young, soft body. He had pulled Allen onto his lap like he had so many times only this time Allen wasn't wearing his clothes and he wasn't scared or ashamed. His hands, pale and pink were touching Cross's hair, his glasses, the parts of his face that he had never dared to touch. His master's hands touched his hips and more, they moved over his chest and his waist, the backs of his thighs and higher where his skin was softer, more sensitive. His master licked the side of his neck, cupped the back of his head and put his mouth over Allen's the same way that girl from before had. But it was different; it was warm and wet and drew Allen into a space he had never explored before. These weren't the hallways of a mountainside inn, nor were they the curtained corridors of an opium den. These were his master's hands, his master's mouth and their bodies touching, sliding, mixing together like the colors of those cushions that his master laid upon. Allen opened his mouth for his master and the tingles that started in his mouth raced down his spine and reached his toes. He pressed his hands against his master's chest not to push but to touch, curiosity taking the lead, they lingered over his master's nipples and ventured lower, to his stomach that was firm and strong, over the scars and scratches etched into his skin. He knew each one of them. He hadn't thought about it at the time but Allen understood. He understood. He felt his master kiss the left side of his forehead where his curse mark was, it tingled all down his arm, and that was when he first felt the pain. He grasped his master's shoulders as his hips were lifted and the hand between his legs began to pry him open and push inside. "You're going to hate me." His master whispered against his hair, "Damn it all, you're going to hate me." Allen held on tightly and told his master that he could never hate him. "I never wanted to be like them." was the only reply he got. His body which had before been tense was made loose and aching, the fingers buried knuckle deep inside of him slipped out making him moan a little. His master moved him then, bit down on his shoulder to distract him as he was penetrated. Allen didn't understand then, couldn't comprehend anything. It had happened so fast, all he knew was that he wasn't sitting on his master's lap anymore. He was leaving scratches on his master's big shoulders, crying and babbling as his master's big hands moved his hips up and down. He felt like a toy, a broken toy. But his body still functioned, still felt heat and pleasure and the madness of it all. The wrongness. The heady burn of it still haunted him in his dreams. When his master climaxed inside of him he fainted. He woke up in a warm bath, his master nowhere in sight. His whole body stiff and aching, the hot water helped with the pain a little. He glanced around and saw his master standing by the window. He could remember how the light shone around him like a halo. Hey, Allen... come to think of it, i've never asked you this before but...Do you like Tim? His memories hadn't always been the most trust worthy but...but Allen didn't really believe that his master had meant to hurt him so bad. I never wanted to be like them. Perhaps by taking him to a whorehouse that night he had actually meant to end something. To erase something. But after that moment, after the bath water cooled and the pain faded away. They did it again. They did it again and again until one night his master left and never came back. I asked you to keep hold of him for me but... …To be honest, I was always planning on giving him to you. When Allen turned fifteen his life changed completely. He made a family. He found a home. And more than anything, in his heart of hearts, he wanted his master to be there with him. Despite everything that had happened between them. He longed to rest in those arms that had kept him safe for so long. For the first time in a long time Allen wanted his master to come home to him. I've told Tim he can do as he likes from now on. You may not want to listen to me, knowing that I'm carrying on the Fourteenth's will... ...But in case you're thinking you're being made to walk a path that me and the Fourteenth chose for you...I just wanted to tell you you're wrong. A path is something you create as you walk it. The ground you've trodden hardens, and that's what forms your path. Allen would wait... You're the only one who can create your own path. So stop wearing that mask and walk on your own. He would wait for his master to come home to him. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!