TITLE: His Own Eyes
RATING: No children allowed unless accompanied by a parent? Like you would want to read this with your mom looking over your shoulder. ; )
DISCLAIMER: Belongs to Team Getbackers, Yuuya Aoki and Rando Ayamine, etc.
BETA: The Dashing Detefabula
NOTES: You can decide what really happened for yourself.
SUMMARY: Ban/Ginji. Very short. Ban doesn't know what reality is anymore. Will he settle for a good dream? Will he need to?

His Own Eyes

Ban gazed up at the stars, a faint smile on his lips. Ginji lay beside him, babbling on and on about how bright they were, and how dark it was, and how nice the breeze was, and every other damn thing that popped into his head. Ban turned his head, watching Ginji's mouth as it formed the words, the endless stream of chatter, and his own mouth widened into a grin. This was the way things were supposed to be.


"—and look at that one! That one's the brightest, isn't it? No, I think that one is. Or maybe that one."

"Hey, moron! Shut up a minute or two, would you?" Ban lit a cigarette, rolling his eyes.

"Sure, Ban-chan. Why?"

Ban sighed. "You talk too much," he told his partner, although the fondness was evident in his voice. He leaned over and ruffled Ginji's hair. There was only one thing that could make the night better—well, two if you counted finding a million yen by the side of the road or something—but Ban wasn't certain he'd every have the nerve to do it. He'd never done it before, but only because he stood so much to lose. As long as Ginji was there, things would turn out all right. "Ginji…"

"Yeah, Ban-chan? …Ban-chan? What?"

Ban's mouth opened and shut. His hand trailed down from Ginji's hair to stroke his jaw, then cup his face. Tossing his cigarette aside, Ban stamped it out before tentatively leaning forward to press his lips to Ginji's. It was sweet and rough and just right.

"That's what," he whispered, and was pleased when he saw Ginji give him a goofy smile, a blush creeping across his face.

Ginji leaned over, bolder than Ban had been, and kissed Ban back. "I love you too, Ban-Chan," he said, grinning sappily.

As his own eyes blinked back at him, Ban was rudely jerked back into reality. He stared into the mirror. He couldn't remember what he'd been doing, or where he was. A couple of men were standing nearby.

"We can't do anything about this one; this one's dead," one was saying, nudging Ginji's body with his foot. Ban's stomach clenched, and he broke out into a cold sweat.

"What about that one?" the other man asked, indicating Ban.

"We can't find anything wrong with him. All we know is that he just goes nuts and starts screaming and fighting whenever we try to take his little mirror away."

"Let him keep it, then, until we get to the hospital. They can deal with it there."

A pool of blood had formed beside Ginji, leaking slowly from his body. Ban was suddenly shaking so hard his teeth were chattering. How had it happened? How had it happened? He couldn't remember…

Lifting the mirror up again, Ban stared at himself.

Everything was heat and silk and warmth and right. Ban wasn't sure where they were, and he wasn't sure how they'd gotten this way, but then he wasn't sure it mattered, with Ginji's hands tangled in his hair and Ginji's tongue tangling with his own and Ginji's legs tangled round his waist. All that mattered to Ban was the slickness of perspiring flesh, blood singing through his veins, and the hitching, breathy moans Ginji was making. This was the way things were supposed to be.

When Ban came up for air, he had a glance around. Another dive, another dingy hotel or another abandoned building—it didn't really matter. They probably wouldn't be disturbed, and it was good enough for this. For this, for Ginji, he'd have bought them a field of sunflowers if he'd been able to afford it, he'd have rented a honeymoon suite with chilled champagne and silk sheets, but Ginji didn't care. Neither did Ban—all Ban really needed was Ginji, and all Ginji really needed was Ban, and while it wasn't the perfect setting, that couldn't detract from its perfection.

Ginji's head came to rest on the pillow, his friendly face wearing what Ban could only describe as a come-hither smile, a smile just for Ban, his eyes half-lidded and his cheeks stained with excitement. Ban rolled his hips, grunting a little, and Ginji pushed back roughly, his head falling back in bliss.

The room was lit with a blue glow as Ginji's electrical field began pulsing, and Ban rode the current, gasping as he felt it crackle and snap around his body. "Just…a little more, Ban-chan," Ginji groaned, digging his fingers into Ban's shoulders, and Ban's hand, calloused and sweaty and trembling, reached out to touch Ginji's face. Ban could see Ginji's shadow next to them, moving in time as the electricity and Ban threw his head back, crying out at the stars shining through the cracked windowpane. The pair rocked, clutching and pressing and begging, and did all they could to become one.

Suddenly, Ban was wet and cold and confused, the clouds were low and dark, and there were no stars in sight. He was holding a small hand mirror in one hand. Why was he holding a mirror? As he stared at it, everything came flooding back.

Ban rocked back and forth, huddled in the grungy alley, arms wrapped around himself. A blanket was set around his shoulders, and it looked like they'd be carting him away soon, off to wherever they put people as crazy as Ban was going. He had to get it together. He was Midou Ban, Jagan master. He was a force to be reckoned with. He had to calm down. He had to think. He had to…

His eyes strayed again to Ginji's lifeless form. The beautiful dark eyes were empty now; devoid of the warmth and wonder they had always held. Ban thought he was going to be ill. Not Ginji, he thought. He couldn't do this without Ginji. He'd already lost enough. He'd already paid enough. He'd already suffered enough. He couldn't lose Ginji, too.

But Ginji was already lost. Ban knew it, the way he knew how much yen was in any wad of cash, the way he knew exactly how much their tab was at the Honky Tonk, even if they'd never pay it, the way he knew what Ginji's voice sounded like when he was excited, or scared, or annoyed. Ban knew it. Ginji was gone. And there was nothing he could do about it.

He lifted the mirror until he was staring into his own eyes. How many times? he wondered. But did it really matter? With Ginji dead, he could Jagan himself right into oblivion. He could Jagan himself to death. He didn't care. No one did.

Concentrating, he gazed into his own hypnotic blue eyes…

Ban surfaced, struggling from the depths of the dream like a fish. His breath was coming in pants so ragged they made his chest ache, and sweat had pooled in the hollow of his stomach. He swallowed, his mouth dry. He looked up at Ginji, who was straddling him, hands clenched on Ban's shoulders.

"Ban-chan?" Ginji's worried voice punctured his haze. "Ban-chan, are you all right? You were yelling for ages, and I couldn't wake you, and I—"

Ban sat up, one hand on the back of Ginji's head to hold him still, and he kissed his partner almost desperately, as though he'd wandered across the Sahara before finding his own sweet oasis. Ginji was very still at first, but slowly relaxed, his body melting, his arms draping around Ban.

"Ban-chan?" he whispered reverently as Ban pulled away, tickling the back of Ginji's neck with his knuckles. "Are you…are you all right?"

"'Course I'm all right, stupid," Ban told him gruffly. "My knee hurts from banging it against the dash, my left leg's asleep from you sitting on me, and I have bruises on my shoulders from you shaking me like crazy while I was trying to sleep. I'm doing just fine!"

Ginji gave him an uncertain smile, tilting his head a little bit. "I was worried about you. You were really hollering, and you sounded upset. Were you having a nightmare?"

Ban closed his eyes, briefly considering replying, 'No, Ginji, I was off dancing with the angels,' but Ginji was too literal sometimes and that could create a bother. "Yes—a small one, anyway."

"I'm glad you woke up," Ginji said, giving Ban a large hug, all arms and legs and elbows and knees, skinny appendages akimbo, the way he always did, and Ban smiled despite himself. "Do you…do you want me to move?" Ginji asked. He sounded strangely shy. "Um. Because of your legs?"

Ban looked at him for a long moment, thinking that lively brown eyes were much nicer than demonic blue, and gave his partner a crooked smile. "Nah," he said. "Since they're asleep, I can't feel them, so at least they don't hurt this way." He lifted a hand and ruffled Ginji's hair. "Besides…" he leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to Ginji's again. "This is the way things are supposed to be."