Ban/Kazu fic
Title:In the Beginning
Pairing:Ban/Kazuki
Rating:PG-13 with a promise of getting more scandalous ;)
Don't own Get Backers so don't sue please! I posted this once already but apparently I didn't do it right so here it is again, hopefully done right this time...
In the Beginning
“dialogue”
‘thoughts’
In the beginning, neither acknowledged the feeling at all. It was just a small pressure at the back of their heads, a slight tingle of uncertainty that would appear late at night when neither had the energy to let all the diversions of life occupy their thoughts any longer.
The pressure gradually built itself into a permanent migraine. Not that either had any trouble hiding it. In fact, to any outward speculation the two were not only content with their lives but genuinely happy people all around. That was complete bullshit. It had been months. Months of being alone and miserable. Months of being alone, miserable and more and more aware of a growing unexplainable infatuation. And yet how many meaningless dates with random people had each turned down in those months? How many opportunities had arisen for both to satiate this craving, to drown this desire, only to be crushed by a curt and unhesitant reply of “I’m busy tonight.” or “Maybe some other time.” They didn’t feel guilty. Not in the least, not even when they caught glimpse of the hurt expressions or the sparkle of tears they knew they had inflicted on those whom they’d turned down. Somewhere in the furthest expanses of consciousness each actually felt a small twinge of happiness for preserving a fidelity to a relationship that both knew really didn’t exist in the first place.
And now Kazuki found himself, once again, alone in his apartment. Out of nowhere a stinging in his eyes temporarily blinded him and he let the plate he had been drying slip from his grasp. Upon hitting the linoleum it ruptured nosily into a hundred different sized shards. It looked like his heart felt.
Too many seconds passed before…
“FUCK!” He screamed at a volume an octave short of a sonic boom, shutting his eyes tightly and painfully grabbing a fistful of bangs as he slid down to rest on his heels, right shoulder resting on a cabinet. He drew both arms around himself, leaving fingernail indentations on his exposed shoulders. He sobbed like that a few moments before fully sitting on the cold ground, his back now turned to the cabinets, face veiled by a thick mass of soft, brown tresses. The broken dish was just another incidence in a long list of events that proved how much control he’d lost over his feelings for a certain someone recently. He had never let himself go like this before, not once. He hadn’t even brought himself to really admitting he was hurting at all, even in the confines of his own thoughts. Why would he? He didn’t trust himself as of late. He was beginning to question the lies the rational part of his brain had been spouting, like the countless times he had told himself that Ban Midou was not worth it. Not worth the grief, not worth the confusion, not worth any of emotions he had been silently suffering through since he’d first caught sight of the other man. If that were true, then why was he constantly waking at varying hours of the night, a cold sweat thoroughly glistening on every inch of skin, with a single word on his quivering lips “…Ban”? The whisper would always seem much, much louder than it actually was in the hours before sunrise, as if it was the only sound in a world that was otherwise completely mute. The memory, or rather the confusion regarding the memory prompted his newest emotion, all-out rage, to surface.
Kazuki jumped to his feet and blindly began grasping for something, anything, to break, smash, throw, or otherwise completely destroy. The first thing that met his hand was the last dish he had dried before the one already on the floor met its untimely end. He raised the dish to about eyelevel and kept a white-knuckled grip on it with both hands for a few split-seconds, before hurtling it down to the now growing pile of rubble on his kitchen floor.
“I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOU!!”
Half way to reaching for another dish, he just thought ‘fuck it’ and sent the whole stack tumbling down. The sound was deafening. All that clatter was bound to alarm a neighbor, but he couldn’t care less. This felt too damn good for now. Fuck decency.
“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!!”
He turned 180 degrees, one hand on an effeminate hip, nails clawing at the flesh there with nearly enough pressure to break skin, the other clenched roughly in silky locks. Taking a step forward he unoccupied both assaulting extremities to send both the toaster and blender careening off the counter in one fell swoop.
“I HATE YOU!”
The china hutch in the dining room was down.
“I HATE YOU!”
There went the bookshelf soon followed by the DVD case in the living room. And he did so pride himself on alphabetizing them both too…
“I HATE YOU!”
Kazuki caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the large mirror hanging on the wall on the opposite side of the room. He halted his attacks on and locked brown orbs with their looking-glass counterparts.
“YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME!”
His tear streaked face said otherwise.
“ALL YOU EVER DO IS TEASE ME… YOU’VE NEVER EVEN CALLED ME BY MY REAL NAME… IT’S ALWAYS THREADSPOOL OR YARNBALL OR ITOMAKI! YOU ALWAYS HAVE THAT STUPID SMIRK ON YOUR FACE YOU CONCEDED SON OF A BITCH! YOU’RE SUCH A BASTARD!”
The mirror shattered as an antique vase struck its center.
For a second time that night Kazuki found himself on the ground, one hand still resting upon the end table that used to be under a very beautiful (and expensive!) vase.
As he hunched forward, tears pooled at the point of his chin before falling to wet the beige carpet below him.
*Flashback*
Ban entered the Honky Tonk with Ginji in tow. Kazuki was at his usual stool, delicately sipping his favorite brand of vanilla, chamomile tea, legs crossed and black off shoulder shirt clinging to his feminine frame deliciously. He’d acknowledged Ginji’s enthusiastic greeting of “Hey Kazu!” only with a small nod and slight shift of his eyes in the thunder emperors’ general direction. He couldn’t risk anything more. His lips didn’t even leave his cup. Before he could even begin to get comfortable to the idea that the man that affected him so much was in the same room as himself said man was already slithering up into the stool directly to Kazuki’s right. Ban made it a point to position himself so he was directly facing Kazuki. His arm was bent and resting on the counter, chin lazily supported in one palm, that stupid grin on his face again. It pissed Kazuki off so much. It didn’t help that Paul was in the supply closet and Natsumi had immediately busied Ginji with some boxes of noodles out back, leaving the two of them alone. After a few moments of awkward silence Kazuki gracefully laid the almost empty cup on its saucer, keeping his eyes downcast. The intensity of those piercing blue eyes on the side of his face had him feeling more than a bit fidgety.
“What do you want?!”
The sudden outburst did nothing to dent Ban’s cool guy exterior, but the adorable blush on the Itomaki’s cheeks when he had turned to face him was a different story. Ban, temporarily losing his confidence, resorted to what he always resorted to, his basic instinct to be an asshole.
“Oh nothing, I was just wondering if you could possibly be any more of a woman…Even your choice of drink is all femme and shit.” Ban then tossed a disgusted glance at Kazu’s abandoned beverage as he dramatically wrinkled his nose for effect.
“If I’m bothering you that much I suppose I could take my leave now. I’m sure I can find plenty of other people willing to stand my company.” Kazuki stood dignifiedly, placing Pauls’ money on the counter. He would sooner walk away without a fight than subject himself to deal with any more of Ban’s immature verbal abuse. It really got to him, despite how much he didn’t want to admit it. It got to him so much that he let a slight sliver of his unhappiness temporarily crack his mask of neutrality. Ban noticed and once again reacted instantly without thinking, this time because he felt guilty.
He planned on apologizing, he really did. “Hey Itomaki…” He just couldn’t go through with it. Not when that stupid threadspool turned on his heel so smoothly. Not when his trailing hair swished around his body and framed his angelic face so perfectly. Not when his heart thundered in his chest so violently or when he lost his cool head so completely with just the slightest presence of this man. “…nice ass.”
*end flash back*
“I want nothing to do with you…” He said this in quieter tone than he used for his earlier rampages.
“Nothing…” even quieter.
“I can’t stand you…”
To be Continued
Please Comment!
Pairing:Ban/Kazuki
Rating:PG-13 with a promise of getting more scandalous ;)
Don't own Get Backers so don't sue please! I posted this once already but apparently I didn't do it right so here it is again, hopefully done right this time...
In the Beginning
“dialogue”
‘thoughts’
In the beginning, neither acknowledged the feeling at all. It was just a small pressure at the back of their heads, a slight tingle of uncertainty that would appear late at night when neither had the energy to let all the diversions of life occupy their thoughts any longer.
The pressure gradually built itself into a permanent migraine. Not that either had any trouble hiding it. In fact, to any outward speculation the two were not only content with their lives but genuinely happy people all around. That was complete bullshit. It had been months. Months of being alone and miserable. Months of being alone, miserable and more and more aware of a growing unexplainable infatuation. And yet how many meaningless dates with random people had each turned down in those months? How many opportunities had arisen for both to satiate this craving, to drown this desire, only to be crushed by a curt and unhesitant reply of “I’m busy tonight.” or “Maybe some other time.” They didn’t feel guilty. Not in the least, not even when they caught glimpse of the hurt expressions or the sparkle of tears they knew they had inflicted on those whom they’d turned down. Somewhere in the furthest expanses of consciousness each actually felt a small twinge of happiness for preserving a fidelity to a relationship that both knew really didn’t exist in the first place.
And now Kazuki found himself, once again, alone in his apartment. Out of nowhere a stinging in his eyes temporarily blinded him and he let the plate he had been drying slip from his grasp. Upon hitting the linoleum it ruptured nosily into a hundred different sized shards. It looked like his heart felt.
Too many seconds passed before…
“FUCK!” He screamed at a volume an octave short of a sonic boom, shutting his eyes tightly and painfully grabbing a fistful of bangs as he slid down to rest on his heels, right shoulder resting on a cabinet. He drew both arms around himself, leaving fingernail indentations on his exposed shoulders. He sobbed like that a few moments before fully sitting on the cold ground, his back now turned to the cabinets, face veiled by a thick mass of soft, brown tresses. The broken dish was just another incidence in a long list of events that proved how much control he’d lost over his feelings for a certain someone recently. He had never let himself go like this before, not once. He hadn’t even brought himself to really admitting he was hurting at all, even in the confines of his own thoughts. Why would he? He didn’t trust himself as of late. He was beginning to question the lies the rational part of his brain had been spouting, like the countless times he had told himself that Ban Midou was not worth it. Not worth the grief, not worth the confusion, not worth any of emotions he had been silently suffering through since he’d first caught sight of the other man. If that were true, then why was he constantly waking at varying hours of the night, a cold sweat thoroughly glistening on every inch of skin, with a single word on his quivering lips “…Ban”? The whisper would always seem much, much louder than it actually was in the hours before sunrise, as if it was the only sound in a world that was otherwise completely mute. The memory, or rather the confusion regarding the memory prompted his newest emotion, all-out rage, to surface.
Kazuki jumped to his feet and blindly began grasping for something, anything, to break, smash, throw, or otherwise completely destroy. The first thing that met his hand was the last dish he had dried before the one already on the floor met its untimely end. He raised the dish to about eyelevel and kept a white-knuckled grip on it with both hands for a few split-seconds, before hurtling it down to the now growing pile of rubble on his kitchen floor.
“I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOU!!”
Half way to reaching for another dish, he just thought ‘fuck it’ and sent the whole stack tumbling down. The sound was deafening. All that clatter was bound to alarm a neighbor, but he couldn’t care less. This felt too damn good for now. Fuck decency.
“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!!”
He turned 180 degrees, one hand on an effeminate hip, nails clawing at the flesh there with nearly enough pressure to break skin, the other clenched roughly in silky locks. Taking a step forward he unoccupied both assaulting extremities to send both the toaster and blender careening off the counter in one fell swoop.
“I HATE YOU!”
The china hutch in the dining room was down.
“I HATE YOU!”
There went the bookshelf soon followed by the DVD case in the living room. And he did so pride himself on alphabetizing them both too…
“I HATE YOU!”
Kazuki caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the large mirror hanging on the wall on the opposite side of the room. He halted his attacks on and locked brown orbs with their looking-glass counterparts.
“YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME!”
His tear streaked face said otherwise.
“ALL YOU EVER DO IS TEASE ME… YOU’VE NEVER EVEN CALLED ME BY MY REAL NAME… IT’S ALWAYS THREADSPOOL OR YARNBALL OR ITOMAKI! YOU ALWAYS HAVE THAT STUPID SMIRK ON YOUR FACE YOU CONCEDED SON OF A BITCH! YOU’RE SUCH A BASTARD!”
The mirror shattered as an antique vase struck its center.
For a second time that night Kazuki found himself on the ground, one hand still resting upon the end table that used to be under a very beautiful (and expensive!) vase.
As he hunched forward, tears pooled at the point of his chin before falling to wet the beige carpet below him.
*Flashback*
Ban entered the Honky Tonk with Ginji in tow. Kazuki was at his usual stool, delicately sipping his favorite brand of vanilla, chamomile tea, legs crossed and black off shoulder shirt clinging to his feminine frame deliciously. He’d acknowledged Ginji’s enthusiastic greeting of “Hey Kazu!” only with a small nod and slight shift of his eyes in the thunder emperors’ general direction. He couldn’t risk anything more. His lips didn’t even leave his cup. Before he could even begin to get comfortable to the idea that the man that affected him so much was in the same room as himself said man was already slithering up into the stool directly to Kazuki’s right. Ban made it a point to position himself so he was directly facing Kazuki. His arm was bent and resting on the counter, chin lazily supported in one palm, that stupid grin on his face again. It pissed Kazuki off so much. It didn’t help that Paul was in the supply closet and Natsumi had immediately busied Ginji with some boxes of noodles out back, leaving the two of them alone. After a few moments of awkward silence Kazuki gracefully laid the almost empty cup on its saucer, keeping his eyes downcast. The intensity of those piercing blue eyes on the side of his face had him feeling more than a bit fidgety.
“What do you want?!”
The sudden outburst did nothing to dent Ban’s cool guy exterior, but the adorable blush on the Itomaki’s cheeks when he had turned to face him was a different story. Ban, temporarily losing his confidence, resorted to what he always resorted to, his basic instinct to be an asshole.
“Oh nothing, I was just wondering if you could possibly be any more of a woman…Even your choice of drink is all femme and shit.” Ban then tossed a disgusted glance at Kazu’s abandoned beverage as he dramatically wrinkled his nose for effect.
“If I’m bothering you that much I suppose I could take my leave now. I’m sure I can find plenty of other people willing to stand my company.” Kazuki stood dignifiedly, placing Pauls’ money on the counter. He would sooner walk away without a fight than subject himself to deal with any more of Ban’s immature verbal abuse. It really got to him, despite how much he didn’t want to admit it. It got to him so much that he let a slight sliver of his unhappiness temporarily crack his mask of neutrality. Ban noticed and once again reacted instantly without thinking, this time because he felt guilty.
He planned on apologizing, he really did. “Hey Itomaki…” He just couldn’t go through with it. Not when that stupid threadspool turned on his heel so smoothly. Not when his trailing hair swished around his body and framed his angelic face so perfectly. Not when his heart thundered in his chest so violently or when he lost his cool head so completely with just the slightest presence of this man. “…nice ass.”
*end flash back*
“I want nothing to do with you…” He said this in quieter tone than he used for his earlier rampages.
“Nothing…” even quieter.
“I can’t stand you…”
To be Continued
Please Comment!