(no subject)
And now... continue on.
"Ban-chan?" Ginji asked from where he had already settled into bed in a new shirt, the blankets bunched around him.
"Yeah?" Ban answered as he kicked aside the odd bits and ends from the floor to make a space big enough for the futon in Ginji's room that was kept especially for this kind of occasion.
"You can sleep in my bed too if you want..." Ban couldn't tell in the dark, but he could swear he heard the blush in Ginji's voice. He was now hiding in his blankets, and only his big doe-like brown eyes peeked over the edge.
"What?" Ban said, not quite thinking he heard right.
“Well I always feel bad when you sleep on a cold drafty floor and in the mornings you always complain of stiff limbs and my bed is big enough anyway so..."
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea Ginji.” Ban cut him off quickly. Better nip this in the bud he thought to himself, trying to ignore that ball of uneasiness squirming in him.
“Mou…” Ginji seemed to ruminate further, a laughable mythical concept at any other time, but Ban held his breath. “Okay… I guess.” Ban didn’t even have to have excellent night vision to see the disappointment on Ginji’s face. As the blond boy’s breaths evened out to deep sleep, Ban stayed awake and stared at the ceiling, which was plastered with glow in the dark stars. Childish… Ban smiled, and a quick sweep with his eyes told him there were about forty of those blasted things there. Suddenly he sobered. Childish, yes, that was what Ginji was. He wasn’t blind to what was happening with Ginji, could see the curiosity and the slow but steady growth of affection for him. Ban doubted Ginji even really knew what it was he was feeling, just that he wanted something, and it was Ban. And Ginji was just stupid and naïve enough that he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between what was good for him and what was dangerous, and that it was a very, very bad idea to love Midou Ban.
Said brunet sighed forcefully in frustration: it was just like Ginji… a puppy with the instincts to love unconditionally and loyally but without the common sense to temper it. It had been fine so far with Ban being the voice of reason so Ginji didn’t hurt himself, but now… Now Ginji was going into untested waters, tentatively reaching out with that simple need to be comforted and held and loved, reaching out to him, of all the bloody people in the world. And Ban didn’t know if he could push him away, to treat that precious innocence with the roughness he was accustomed to. The fact that even he, the ever logical, always rational realist could find himself unable to deny Ginji something so utterly unattainable and idealistic… it scared him beyond thought.
Ban could admit to himself, there in the faint twilight of the artificial stars, that he couldn’t deny Ginji because he wanted it too. There was something about the way that someone such as Ginji, so innocent and… beautiful (Ban blushed uncharacteristically) could love someone like him. He didn’t know whether Ginji would feel the same if he found out about the secrets Ban was keeping, but it was still… a wonderful feeling to be loved by someone, Ginji especially. The boy was like the sun, and everyone orbited around his brightness, his happiness; he drew you in and made you smile and laugh, like you’re someone special in the world to him. Ban swallowed thickly when he realised he didn’t want to let that feeling go. He huffed, and sighed deeply again. God, the night was getting to him.
He threw the blankets off him, finding that he was feeling too hot and muggy to sleep. Blowing his hair out of his face, he pulled his school trousers on and padded silently over to the balcony (not that stomping and clashing cymbals would have woken Ginji, it was just force of habit). He slid open the glass door and stepped out, inhaling the wet scent of a sultry night on the eve of rain. Clouds loomed on the horizon, moving quickly as the wind picked up just a little. The pale moon was almost full, a solid and imperfect disc in the smoky onyx sky, and cast enough of its cold light to illuminate some of the dreary suburbia before him.
He leaned on the railing again, and the sly cold caressed him gently like a lover. He licked his lips and wished he had cigarettes on him, but again, one look behind him at Ginji’s sprawled form had him refraining. Suddenly it struck him. Is this what it feels like to be whipped? The crazy thought almost had Ban laughing out loud. He was still chuckling quietly to himself when he felt the disturbance behind him; he always had some sense of Ginji when they were in proximity. Ban didn’t turn around, using just his ears to tell that Ginji had stumbled out of bed. Surprising. The clouds are closer now he mused, noting the pressure in the stuffy air. The heavy glass door slid open again. Ban turned his head halfway, just to acknowledge the slightly shorter boy. The sleepy blond stood hunched over in the doorframe, liquid chocolate eyes droopy and sleep-fatigued. His shirt was too big for him from repeated washings, yet it was still an obscene orange. His shorts were a startling spring green and it hung low on his hips. Altogether a horribly clashing look, but Ginji pulled it off. He yawned widely. “Ban-chan…?” He murmured questioningly.
“Go back to sleep Ginji.” Ban said to the garden sprawling under him.
He heard the door close, but was more than surprised when footsteps pattered quickly behind him and long, tanned arms slid around his torso. Ban tried to turn, but the warm arms tightened and he stilled. Ginji’s forehead was pressed against the back of his head, and he could feel his soft breaths stirring the hairs on the nape of his neck, feathering down his back. Ban tried to suppress the shudder that snaked through him, chilling as if someone had drawn a fingernail up his spine. He glanced down and saw those white bandages, so starkly contrasted against Ginji’s golden skin. He felt guilt make dinner of his insides. Seems he would never stop hurting him.
“…Ginji?” He ventured tentatively. He found it harder to draw breath, and couldn’t tell whether it was him or the oppressing atmosphere of the rain to come. The blond boy behind him didn’t answer, just turned his head so he could rest his cheek against him instead. Ban stiffened; his heart pounded painfully and the blood roared in his ears. He could feel Ginji slowly tensing up, before suddenly, he relaxed and the arms around him drew him even closer. The warmth against his back felt like it was burning him. He was hyper aware of everything - the heartbeats, the soft breaths… that suffocating, yet liberating warmth, seeping from Ginji into himself.
Ban opened his mouth, refusing to acknowledge the slight panic that had crept into his voice, “Ginji, what are you do-” he was cut off when Ginji’s mouth came close to the shell of his ear, his chin tucked into the crook of Ban’s shoulder.
“Ban…” He murmured, and his breath tickled the sensitive shell of his ear. Ban closed his mouth with a click of his teeth. He hardly ever heard Ginji say his name without that silly honorific, and never in that tone of voice. It was the kind of voice that spoke volumes about what was unsaid. It was full of wonderment, longing, need and with the slightest petulance of a child who did not understand why he was being denied something.
Ban had no idea how he managed to read all of that in a single syllable. His breath hitched and he hung his head, his inky black hair falling into his eyes. God, he just couldn’t ever seem to catch a break. Here he was, on the precipice of something both amazing and disastrous, something that could make or break him, maybe both. But knowing he couldn’t commit to this relationship in that way. It was far too dangerous for them both; it tied him down too much when it was risky enough as it is, created attachments too hard to dismiss, too easy to use against him, and screwed everything up. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to break Ginji’s heart. He’d broken the arms, legs, necks and minds of other people but against Ginji he felt helpless. The warm presence behind him had always been a constant, offering unconditional trust and love, something Ban had never ever experienced before in his whole life. For him, life was a game where people used and manipulated each other and threw them away, and if you weren’t careful you’d end up dead in an alleyway. He had sworn to stay on top of that cynical game, but then Ginji breezed in and all his self-imposed rules just defenestrated, and he found himself wanting to lean back into that presence. For so long, he was alone in looking out for himself, didn’t trust anyone else, not that they offered anyway. But with Ginji… he felt like he could rest his weary soul and finally relax. With Ginji he felt at home.
He opened his mouth again, was about to say something, anything, but then those damn white bandages caught his attention again, and whatever had been in his throat, probably surrender to Ginji, like he had always done (and he knew it was dangerous damnit), whatever was about to be said and change their relationship forever was strangled and swallowed. He could never forget, could not afford to forget, why he was here and why he couldn’t get close to anyone, Ginji especially. So he up and said something that irreversibly changed their relationship in another way entirely.
“Go back to bed, Ginji.” He said quietly, fists clenching hard in front of him. The arms around him stiffened. He could feel Ginji’s heartbeat, fluttering like a bird beating against its cage, and just as self-destructive. The silence stretched between them for exactly thirty-five seconds; Ban had counted them to keep his will from crumbling.
“No.” Ginji said, and again, surprising Ban with the strength in his voice. “No, I don’t want to.” He said, louder this time. The arms squeezed again, and really, Ban thought belatedly, he is getting too childish, I am not a stuffed animal before Ginji whipped him around and tried to kiss him. Tried, because Ban is still too fast, and he only got the corner of his lips. Making a frustrated little growling sound that was far too adorable, Ginji tried again, but Ban pushed him away, against the wall of his house, ignoring the cold that rushed in to fill the vacuum between them, ignoring the loud thump Ginji made because he’d pushed too hard.
“Ginji, stop it.” Ban forced his voice to be steady, to be firm. He didn’t know if he was successful. The blood roaring in his ears drowned everything. “You…” What? He wondered to himself. Don’t want this? He does, and has been wanting, for a while now. Don’t know what you’re doing? Oh he knows that too, quite well. Don’t know what you’re getting into? But then, who does? In the end he settled for the truth, which cost him. “You can’t do this, not here, not with me.” And that was it, dropped like a stone into a still pond, the ripples disturbing the water long after the stone is gone from sight. And Ginji shook his stubborn, mulish head, because he doesn’t understand what Ban is trying to say, and is being his usual moronic self, protesting, “I do! You always act like I’m stupid and childish, treat me like a kid but I do know! You’re Ban, and will always be Ban! I don’t care about those stupid rumours or what the stupid school says, or what my friends say either! You…” He trailed off, brown eyes warm and beseeching, “You’re Ban-chan. You always will be to me.”
Ban shook his head, like he was trying to throw his thoughts out of it. Ginji didn’t get it of course, but he went with it. “What if they were true?” Ginji froze beneath his hands. Ban looked at him from beneath his lashes, knowing that he looked sinister. “What if I told you that one of those rumours was true? Can you guess which one?” Ginji was silent, his warm chocolate eyes wide. Ban answered for him. “I did, in fact, kill someone.” He didn’t think Ginji could get any more still, but he surprised him, yet again. The boy was on a roll today it seemed. “With these two hands…” He murmured, his voice velvet soft, his baritone reaching Ginji easily through the quiet static of the night. He slid his two hands from where they were resting on Ginji’s shoulders, up to his neck, slowly. The blond seemed to have stopped breathing. “I pinned him to the wall, strangling him. I felt his windpipe crush bit by bit, and saw his eyes roll to the back of his head, gasping like a fish out of water... And with my right hand I... I stabbed him; felt his insides tear apart and his blood drench my hand. I still can’t wash it off, not ever.” His voice was low and vicious, full of venom. Through his speech he had slowly tightened his grip on Ginji’s neck, until he could feel the windpipe give a little. Ginji’s pulse was racing and erratic, his eyes wide and glistening with fear.
Ban felt like he was slowly ripping chunks out of his heart, to see Ginji, his Ginji, scared of him like this. But he was at a point of no return now, and even if Ginji had wanted to breathe he would have found it difficult. Ginji tried to shake his head.
“I-I don’t believe you.” He managed to rasp out, “Ban, I lov-” Ban’s tenuous hold on his self-control snapped. His right hand whipped up lightning fast and smothered Ginji’s mouth.
“Don’t. You. Dare.” He hissed, blazing, ice cold eyes narrowed into cruel slits. “You have no idea. Don’t you dare stand there and pour your heart out to me when you haven’t a clue to what’s going on, to whom I really am, what I am. I’m a monster Ginji.” The blond’s eyes widened again and he tried to shake his head, but Ban wouldn’t let him. “No. I am. My mother screamed it at me when I was born, tried to kill me when I was barely a month old. I killed a man, my best friend when I was fifteen for a stupid, idiotic reason, to save myself. I’ve robbed, mugged, broken into houses and I won’t... I didn’t want it to be... I am not a good person, Ginji. You let me forget that for a while, but never that you’re too good for the likes of me. I treat you like a kid because you act like one. But you know what? I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He leaned in closer to Ginji, pinning him with his crystalline eyes. “I’ve regretted a lot of the decisions I made in life, but…” He licked his lips, hesitating. He watched Ginji watch his lips, and heat curled inside him, devouring the guilt, making him lightheaded. “But not as much as I will regret this.” He removed his hand from Ginji’s mouth, and then moved in slowly, eyes locked onto those brown ones until he closed his eyes, and kissed him, just as he released his hold on his neck. Ginji’s first full gasp of air took Ban’s kiss and his breath, his hands on Ban’s shoulders, fingers twitching. Ban poured his breath into Ginji’s oxygen deprived lungs, into his being, as if he were giving him life. He moved his brittle lips over Ginji’s soft ones, nudging those lips further apart so he could explore it with his tongue.
Ginji made a small noise in the back of his throat, but Ban ignored it and cupped his face, kissing him deeper. Ginji leaned into it, inexperienced but wanting more, wrapping his arms around Ban’s shoulders. Finally, Ban broke apart from him, resting his forehead against Ginji’s. The blond man looked dazed and dizzy, lips wet and inviting. Ban forced himself away. One kiss, he’d said to himself. Just one, just once. Never, ever again. He turned from Ginji, who still looked a little lost, and went into the room. He picked up his bag and walked out of the front door.
And for another... earth-borne.livejournal.com/48797.html
"Ban-chan?" Ginji asked from where he had already settled into bed in a new shirt, the blankets bunched around him.
"Yeah?" Ban answered as he kicked aside the odd bits and ends from the floor to make a space big enough for the futon in Ginji's room that was kept especially for this kind of occasion.
"You can sleep in my bed too if you want..." Ban couldn't tell in the dark, but he could swear he heard the blush in Ginji's voice. He was now hiding in his blankets, and only his big doe-like brown eyes peeked over the edge.
"What?" Ban said, not quite thinking he heard right.
“Well I always feel bad when you sleep on a cold drafty floor and in the mornings you always complain of stiff limbs and my bed is big enough anyway so..."
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea Ginji.” Ban cut him off quickly. Better nip this in the bud he thought to himself, trying to ignore that ball of uneasiness squirming in him.
“Mou…” Ginji seemed to ruminate further, a laughable mythical concept at any other time, but Ban held his breath. “Okay… I guess.” Ban didn’t even have to have excellent night vision to see the disappointment on Ginji’s face. As the blond boy’s breaths evened out to deep sleep, Ban stayed awake and stared at the ceiling, which was plastered with glow in the dark stars. Childish… Ban smiled, and a quick sweep with his eyes told him there were about forty of those blasted things there. Suddenly he sobered. Childish, yes, that was what Ginji was. He wasn’t blind to what was happening with Ginji, could see the curiosity and the slow but steady growth of affection for him. Ban doubted Ginji even really knew what it was he was feeling, just that he wanted something, and it was Ban. And Ginji was just stupid and naïve enough that he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between what was good for him and what was dangerous, and that it was a very, very bad idea to love Midou Ban.
Said brunet sighed forcefully in frustration: it was just like Ginji… a puppy with the instincts to love unconditionally and loyally but without the common sense to temper it. It had been fine so far with Ban being the voice of reason so Ginji didn’t hurt himself, but now… Now Ginji was going into untested waters, tentatively reaching out with that simple need to be comforted and held and loved, reaching out to him, of all the bloody people in the world. And Ban didn’t know if he could push him away, to treat that precious innocence with the roughness he was accustomed to. The fact that even he, the ever logical, always rational realist could find himself unable to deny Ginji something so utterly unattainable and idealistic… it scared him beyond thought.
Ban could admit to himself, there in the faint twilight of the artificial stars, that he couldn’t deny Ginji because he wanted it too. There was something about the way that someone such as Ginji, so innocent and… beautiful (Ban blushed uncharacteristically) could love someone like him. He didn’t know whether Ginji would feel the same if he found out about the secrets Ban was keeping, but it was still… a wonderful feeling to be loved by someone, Ginji especially. The boy was like the sun, and everyone orbited around his brightness, his happiness; he drew you in and made you smile and laugh, like you’re someone special in the world to him. Ban swallowed thickly when he realised he didn’t want to let that feeling go. He huffed, and sighed deeply again. God, the night was getting to him.
He threw the blankets off him, finding that he was feeling too hot and muggy to sleep. Blowing his hair out of his face, he pulled his school trousers on and padded silently over to the balcony (not that stomping and clashing cymbals would have woken Ginji, it was just force of habit). He slid open the glass door and stepped out, inhaling the wet scent of a sultry night on the eve of rain. Clouds loomed on the horizon, moving quickly as the wind picked up just a little. The pale moon was almost full, a solid and imperfect disc in the smoky onyx sky, and cast enough of its cold light to illuminate some of the dreary suburbia before him.
He leaned on the railing again, and the sly cold caressed him gently like a lover. He licked his lips and wished he had cigarettes on him, but again, one look behind him at Ginji’s sprawled form had him refraining. Suddenly it struck him. Is this what it feels like to be whipped? The crazy thought almost had Ban laughing out loud. He was still chuckling quietly to himself when he felt the disturbance behind him; he always had some sense of Ginji when they were in proximity. Ban didn’t turn around, using just his ears to tell that Ginji had stumbled out of bed. Surprising. The clouds are closer now he mused, noting the pressure in the stuffy air. The heavy glass door slid open again. Ban turned his head halfway, just to acknowledge the slightly shorter boy. The sleepy blond stood hunched over in the doorframe, liquid chocolate eyes droopy and sleep-fatigued. His shirt was too big for him from repeated washings, yet it was still an obscene orange. His shorts were a startling spring green and it hung low on his hips. Altogether a horribly clashing look, but Ginji pulled it off. He yawned widely. “Ban-chan…?” He murmured questioningly.
“Go back to sleep Ginji.” Ban said to the garden sprawling under him.
He heard the door close, but was more than surprised when footsteps pattered quickly behind him and long, tanned arms slid around his torso. Ban tried to turn, but the warm arms tightened and he stilled. Ginji’s forehead was pressed against the back of his head, and he could feel his soft breaths stirring the hairs on the nape of his neck, feathering down his back. Ban tried to suppress the shudder that snaked through him, chilling as if someone had drawn a fingernail up his spine. He glanced down and saw those white bandages, so starkly contrasted against Ginji’s golden skin. He felt guilt make dinner of his insides. Seems he would never stop hurting him.
“…Ginji?” He ventured tentatively. He found it harder to draw breath, and couldn’t tell whether it was him or the oppressing atmosphere of the rain to come. The blond boy behind him didn’t answer, just turned his head so he could rest his cheek against him instead. Ban stiffened; his heart pounded painfully and the blood roared in his ears. He could feel Ginji slowly tensing up, before suddenly, he relaxed and the arms around him drew him even closer. The warmth against his back felt like it was burning him. He was hyper aware of everything - the heartbeats, the soft breaths… that suffocating, yet liberating warmth, seeping from Ginji into himself.
Ban opened his mouth, refusing to acknowledge the slight panic that had crept into his voice, “Ginji, what are you do-” he was cut off when Ginji’s mouth came close to the shell of his ear, his chin tucked into the crook of Ban’s shoulder.
“Ban…” He murmured, and his breath tickled the sensitive shell of his ear. Ban closed his mouth with a click of his teeth. He hardly ever heard Ginji say his name without that silly honorific, and never in that tone of voice. It was the kind of voice that spoke volumes about what was unsaid. It was full of wonderment, longing, need and with the slightest petulance of a child who did not understand why he was being denied something.
Ban had no idea how he managed to read all of that in a single syllable. His breath hitched and he hung his head, his inky black hair falling into his eyes. God, he just couldn’t ever seem to catch a break. Here he was, on the precipice of something both amazing and disastrous, something that could make or break him, maybe both. But knowing he couldn’t commit to this relationship in that way. It was far too dangerous for them both; it tied him down too much when it was risky enough as it is, created attachments too hard to dismiss, too easy to use against him, and screwed everything up. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to break Ginji’s heart. He’d broken the arms, legs, necks and minds of other people but against Ginji he felt helpless. The warm presence behind him had always been a constant, offering unconditional trust and love, something Ban had never ever experienced before in his whole life. For him, life was a game where people used and manipulated each other and threw them away, and if you weren’t careful you’d end up dead in an alleyway. He had sworn to stay on top of that cynical game, but then Ginji breezed in and all his self-imposed rules just defenestrated, and he found himself wanting to lean back into that presence. For so long, he was alone in looking out for himself, didn’t trust anyone else, not that they offered anyway. But with Ginji… he felt like he could rest his weary soul and finally relax. With Ginji he felt at home.
He opened his mouth again, was about to say something, anything, but then those damn white bandages caught his attention again, and whatever had been in his throat, probably surrender to Ginji, like he had always done (and he knew it was dangerous damnit), whatever was about to be said and change their relationship forever was strangled and swallowed. He could never forget, could not afford to forget, why he was here and why he couldn’t get close to anyone, Ginji especially. So he up and said something that irreversibly changed their relationship in another way entirely.
“Go back to bed, Ginji.” He said quietly, fists clenching hard in front of him. The arms around him stiffened. He could feel Ginji’s heartbeat, fluttering like a bird beating against its cage, and just as self-destructive. The silence stretched between them for exactly thirty-five seconds; Ban had counted them to keep his will from crumbling.
“No.” Ginji said, and again, surprising Ban with the strength in his voice. “No, I don’t want to.” He said, louder this time. The arms squeezed again, and really, Ban thought belatedly, he is getting too childish, I am not a stuffed animal before Ginji whipped him around and tried to kiss him. Tried, because Ban is still too fast, and he only got the corner of his lips. Making a frustrated little growling sound that was far too adorable, Ginji tried again, but Ban pushed him away, against the wall of his house, ignoring the cold that rushed in to fill the vacuum between them, ignoring the loud thump Ginji made because he’d pushed too hard.
“Ginji, stop it.” Ban forced his voice to be steady, to be firm. He didn’t know if he was successful. The blood roaring in his ears drowned everything. “You…” What? He wondered to himself. Don’t want this? He does, and has been wanting, for a while now. Don’t know what you’re doing? Oh he knows that too, quite well. Don’t know what you’re getting into? But then, who does? In the end he settled for the truth, which cost him. “You can’t do this, not here, not with me.” And that was it, dropped like a stone into a still pond, the ripples disturbing the water long after the stone is gone from sight. And Ginji shook his stubborn, mulish head, because he doesn’t understand what Ban is trying to say, and is being his usual moronic self, protesting, “I do! You always act like I’m stupid and childish, treat me like a kid but I do know! You’re Ban, and will always be Ban! I don’t care about those stupid rumours or what the stupid school says, or what my friends say either! You…” He trailed off, brown eyes warm and beseeching, “You’re Ban-chan. You always will be to me.”
Ban shook his head, like he was trying to throw his thoughts out of it. Ginji didn’t get it of course, but he went with it. “What if they were true?” Ginji froze beneath his hands. Ban looked at him from beneath his lashes, knowing that he looked sinister. “What if I told you that one of those rumours was true? Can you guess which one?” Ginji was silent, his warm chocolate eyes wide. Ban answered for him. “I did, in fact, kill someone.” He didn’t think Ginji could get any more still, but he surprised him, yet again. The boy was on a roll today it seemed. “With these two hands…” He murmured, his voice velvet soft, his baritone reaching Ginji easily through the quiet static of the night. He slid his two hands from where they were resting on Ginji’s shoulders, up to his neck, slowly. The blond seemed to have stopped breathing. “I pinned him to the wall, strangling him. I felt his windpipe crush bit by bit, and saw his eyes roll to the back of his head, gasping like a fish out of water... And with my right hand I... I stabbed him; felt his insides tear apart and his blood drench my hand. I still can’t wash it off, not ever.” His voice was low and vicious, full of venom. Through his speech he had slowly tightened his grip on Ginji’s neck, until he could feel the windpipe give a little. Ginji’s pulse was racing and erratic, his eyes wide and glistening with fear.
Ban felt like he was slowly ripping chunks out of his heart, to see Ginji, his Ginji, scared of him like this. But he was at a point of no return now, and even if Ginji had wanted to breathe he would have found it difficult. Ginji tried to shake his head.
“I-I don’t believe you.” He managed to rasp out, “Ban, I lov-” Ban’s tenuous hold on his self-control snapped. His right hand whipped up lightning fast and smothered Ginji’s mouth.
“Don’t. You. Dare.” He hissed, blazing, ice cold eyes narrowed into cruel slits. “You have no idea. Don’t you dare stand there and pour your heart out to me when you haven’t a clue to what’s going on, to whom I really am, what I am. I’m a monster Ginji.” The blond’s eyes widened again and he tried to shake his head, but Ban wouldn’t let him. “No. I am. My mother screamed it at me when I was born, tried to kill me when I was barely a month old. I killed a man, my best friend when I was fifteen for a stupid, idiotic reason, to save myself. I’ve robbed, mugged, broken into houses and I won’t... I didn’t want it to be... I am not a good person, Ginji. You let me forget that for a while, but never that you’re too good for the likes of me. I treat you like a kid because you act like one. But you know what? I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He leaned in closer to Ginji, pinning him with his crystalline eyes. “I’ve regretted a lot of the decisions I made in life, but…” He licked his lips, hesitating. He watched Ginji watch his lips, and heat curled inside him, devouring the guilt, making him lightheaded. “But not as much as I will regret this.” He removed his hand from Ginji’s mouth, and then moved in slowly, eyes locked onto those brown ones until he closed his eyes, and kissed him, just as he released his hold on his neck. Ginji’s first full gasp of air took Ban’s kiss and his breath, his hands on Ban’s shoulders, fingers twitching. Ban poured his breath into Ginji’s oxygen deprived lungs, into his being, as if he were giving him life. He moved his brittle lips over Ginji’s soft ones, nudging those lips further apart so he could explore it with his tongue.
Ginji made a small noise in the back of his throat, but Ban ignored it and cupped his face, kissing him deeper. Ginji leaned into it, inexperienced but wanting more, wrapping his arms around Ban’s shoulders. Finally, Ban broke apart from him, resting his forehead against Ginji’s. The blond man looked dazed and dizzy, lips wet and inviting. Ban forced himself away. One kiss, he’d said to himself. Just one, just once. Never, ever again. He turned from Ginji, who still looked a little lost, and went into the room. He picked up his bag and walked out of the front door.
And for another... earth-borne.livejournal.com/48797.html