Hanging Upside Down

Ban is having a bad evening dealing with his ghosts. Shido chooses to help. Angsty Porn with Characterization, I-4

Character(s): Fuyuki Shido, Midou Ban
Pairing(s): Shido/Ban

Ban had always known his memory was kind of weird. Or maybe it was his imagination. He blamed the jagan. To make visions, he had to know at least the key points clearly, had to envision them himself.

He remembered things he’d never experienced.

Things he had experienced, he couldn’t forget.

There were days he thought that was the curse.

Which was why he was outside, in a nice dark, empty alley, instead of upstairs in the room he and Ginji were renting. Well, promising rent on anyway. Any day now.

Tonight, though, even money couldn’t distract him from his fucking memory. He truly hoped Himiko was doing better than he was—was having a nice memorial ceremony, maybe, while Ban did his damnedest to forget.

There was a rustle at the mouth of the alley and Ban pried an eye open to see the damn monkey trainer. Hell. "What are you doing here?"

A soft snort answered. "Came by to make sure your bad money sense didn’t have Ginji sleeping on the sidewalk. Again."

"Eh." Ban fished for a good retort about freeloaders and gigolos but it wouldn’t quite come so he just waved a hand at the tiny landing above. "Feel free, mother hen." He took a slow drag on his cigarette, hoping this time the damn nicotine would cut in like it was freaking supposed to.


Ban opened his eyes all the way to find Fuyuki way too close. He dropped the cigarette, but he figured it was probably too late. To night vision like Fuyuki’s, the glow would have shown his face clearly.

"What happened?"

"Long fucking day, all right?" Ban sighed. "Go talk to Ginji. He’s fine," he added as an afterthought, because all the ex-Volts could get kind of crazy about Ginji, not that he didn’t understand how that went.

"When you aren’t?" Fuyuki sounded skeptical and Ban silently turned over a few of his favorite Italian curses, because where did the monkey trainer get off being so damn perceptive? And he couldn’t walk away from the stairs because that would make Ginji come after him and see him like this. A hand closed on his shoulder and Ban jerked; Fuyuki was definitely too close, and Ban planted a hand on his chest to shove him back.

A large, warm hand on his shoulder, ready to shake him or pull him close; a broad, solid chest under his palms.

Ban fiercely stifled the sound that tried to get out of his throat and forced his eyes open, looking up at Fuyuki, fixing the goddamn present in his mind.

Always taller than he was.

Ban’s breath caught behind his teeth, and he didn’t know what was in his face but it made Fuyuki frown. "Go see Ginji," Ban said, roughly. "Fuck, why do you care? Acting like everyone’s big brother just because you’re—" he bit back the word older. Fuck. He wasn’t even talking to Fuyuki, was he? A tired laugh escaped him, breaking in the middle.

The hand on his shoulder tightened, warm and sure, and Fuyuki said, slowly, "Ban." His voice was deep and firm, like he had a right to call Ban’s name like that.

But while his mind spat, Ban’s body leaned into Fuyuki’s without his permission. He wanted it so much, to have someone alive to call and chivy and scold him. Too much. Just when he most needed a smart mouth, to piss Fuyuki off and make this into just a fight like any other day, he was too damn tired to find the right words. And Fuyuki saw too damn clearly. And…

And Fuyuki was kissing him.

More than just kissing him. Fuyuki’s hand was sliding up into his hair, cradling his head, tipping it back so Fuyuki’s mouth closed comfortably over his. Fuyuki’s arm was around him, drawing him away from the wall and into the solidity of Fuyuki’s body.

Ban’s senses all betrayed him. It felt so much like what might have been, and he wanted that too much tonight. Couldn’t push it away, even when it was just another damn illusion.

"You’re an idiot," Fuyuki murmured against his mouth, and Ban could feel the other man’s lips curve. "And a brat."

This time, Ban couldn’t stop the harsh, wanting sound in his throat, or the moan when Fuyuki pulled him in tighter. He slid a leg around Fuyuki’s, pushing against his hip, asking with his body since his mouth was busy with Fuyuki’s tongue in it. He wanted to feel what it could have been like, what there hadn’t been time to feel before.

Fuyuki made a thoughtful sound against his mouth and slid a hand down Ban’s body to close between his legs. Ban rocked into it, gasping.

"Easy," Fuyuki murmured, fingers stroking Ban’s cock through his jeans, gentle like he was with his damn animals. "Easy, Ban."

Easy for him to say. Ban whined a little with relief when Fuyuki got his zipper open, pushing into the warm hand as is closed around him. Fuyuki pressed him back against the wall again, and the feel of a taller, broader, older, body against his made Ban moan. It was so close to what had been, and the firmness of Shido’s hand on his cock pulled all of a kid’s fantasies out of the past and set them on fire. Ban rested his head back against the brick, gasping. "Never got a chance…"

Shido was quiet for a moment before he nodded. "All right," he said against Ban’s ear. One last, slow stroke and his fingers left Ban’s cock, slid down the back of his jeans instead, pushing between his cheeks.

"Ahhh!" Ban was shaking against Shido’s chest and he didn’t care. His whole body was tingling with the slow rub of strong fingers against his entrance. "Fuck, yes…"

"Shh, easy Ban." The light from the street outlined the wild hair of the head bent over his and Ban closed his eyes to keep that image as wet fingers worked into him, slow and rough. He didn’t try to keep back his moans anymore, just hung on to the shoulders that more years than he’d lived had filled out and let himself drown in sensation, the feeling of sure, gentle fingers just like the ones he’d known finally touching him the way he’d wanted years ago, of being held tight and fucked firmly and a warm mouth on his swallowing the sounds he made. When he came those fingers pushed into his tightening body hard, rubbing him slowly inside, and the name he groaned was caught under a kiss.

The night came back slowly, the prickle of brick against his back and the tug of Shido’s hands pulling up and fastening his jeans. Ban made a faintly grumpy sound and Shido snorted.

"Really an idiot." His lips pressed against Ban’s forehead and he said quietly. "Go on up to Ginji." He stepped back and Ban could see his crooked smile in the dim light. "He’ll chase the ghosts away, won’t he?"

"Damn monkey trainer," Ban muttered, half-heartedly. It wasn’t until Shido’s figure was a shadow in mouth of the alley that he added, "Thanks."

The streetlights caught Shido’s face as he turned his head briefly, and then he was gone. Not like a ghost, though; Ban’s ghosts never left that quietly.

Ban’s ghosts were never that kind to him.

He stomped up the stairs as firmly as he could, grumbling under his breath just for the familiarity of it. Their little room was bright after the heavy night outside, and golden with Ginji’s smile as he looked up.


Ban smiled. He was well and truly trapped by this, however much he growled and snapped. He supposed it wasn’t that surprising that fellow inmates were kind; Ginji tended to rub off on you.

"Got the flyers done?" he asked, and pulled the door shut on memories for another year.