After Dark

A GetBackers Fanfiction

Summary:

Curiosity is fun, a bit challenge is sweet. Ban decided to challenge a tad of his wildest curiosity after a whole day of tiring work by giving his cute best friend a whole new adventure through the night. Told from Ginji's POV.

Warning:

Raw sex and profanities.

Disclaimer:

GetBackers and all of the characters in it are all courtesy of the makers. The pairing here is unofficial, and based on writer's imaginations only.

The warm bodies

shine together,

in the darkness,

the hand moves

to the center

of the flesh,

the skin trembles

in happiness

and the soul comes

joyful to the eye.

—Allen Ginsberg, "Song"

IT WAS A TIRING WORK, PERHAPS, ONE OF THE MOST TIRING ONES WE'D EVER EXPERIENCED. IT was not like all my bones had shook, asking for a way out of my body so that my soul could run free through the city's mysterious, unseen fog of euphoria—but it was more like that I demanded a rest better than my usual rests—by saying that it means that I didn't want to sleep, because sleeping could also mean deprivation for one's soul. I'd read somewhere that right before someone falls asleep, he emanates an Alpha wave that enables his brain to work better, there is where the most inspiring ideas will be discovered.

So, I didn't want my sleep tonight. I wanted an adventure—like a daring leap toward a world of strangers, or jumping from the balcony of the city in the sky. It could be ecstatic, it could be queer, it could be unusual, but it should not be tacky because the whole day had been long enough even for me to take a proper long breather.

My best friend Ban had already fallen asleep beside me. Still in those luscious Helmut Lang leather pants one of his rich clients had bought him the other day and his upper body bared, he looked like an otherwordly creature, something right for my taste—and as strange as I started to sound, I'd always found something new whenever I watched him asleep like that. It was like reading Anaïs Nin's works—something new everytime you reread them; that way your imaginations run rampant like wild horses of the West. Whatever.

I munched my last square of milk chocolate and walked downstairs to make myself a cup of chamomile tea, but all of a sudden I decided to cancel the latter because my legs were already too tired to walk. So, I took off my Chucks and my vest then laid myself beside my beautiful friend. His glowing, pale white skin—the color of a still surface of a secluded lake at sunrise—as well as his long eyelashes and his jet-black sweat-soaked strands on his forehead made me hard to concentrate. His tiny lips were the lush color of baby pink, and his slim fingers were fingers of an outstanding violinist's—sometimes it was hard to imagine that he'd used those fingers a lot of time to grab the throats of unlucky people whenever he performed his favorite Snake Bite.

Ban was vast asleep, and after I made myself sure for that one last time, I finally used my remaining guts to slide my fingers around the right side of the face, wiping the falling jet-black strands from his forehead, then caressed his bare shoulders, feeling every muscles that weren't relaxed enough underneath the silky skin. He moaned slowly in his sleep, and I knew that he was still restless even in sleep. The sound of his moan was slightly hoarse—an essence of his nonchalance, yet a glance to his hypermasculine secluded soul—and all of a sudden, to my shock, I started feeling something started tightening between my thighs as I got more and more curious… how would it feel having sex with him? Being caressed by those slim fingers, until the juice of our dreams mix our souls by the end of the heat?

I WAS DUMBFOUNDED WHEN BAN SUDDENLY OPENED HIS EYES, THEN STARED DEEP INTO EVERY layers of my soul using those dark-blue eyes. They were inevitably clear, for someone who'd just gained back his senses after a short rest. It crossed my mind once that I wanted to turn my head away, pretending as if I wasn't looking at him, but another thought came and replaced the previous one—that it was not a sin to show that I was, indeed, looking at him, enjoying his one-of-a-kind beauty. Ban wouldn't be surprised—he was aware of how beautiful he was he could even morph himself into a modern-day Narcissus if he wanted to.

"Hey, you still awake? Aren't you tired, man?" Ban lolled closer to my side, and my skin had already trembled in its lustful, embarrassing state. I felt like a young girl before her first intercourse with her beloved long-time boyfriend—I longed for my best friend just like the girl wanted his boyfriend to enter her quickly, and if possible, without pain.

"Don't feel like it," I answered, looked away.

Ban slided his body up and leaned against the wall. The pale yellow light of the moon, and several insignificant red, green, and purple lights emanated from the city's restless buildings had painted his face the color in Chagall's surrealistic paintings.

"Really? Perhaps we should just go out and find something to eat. A sushi bar, perhaps, I think I'm hungry, Ginji, aren't you?"

"It's fifteen minutes to twelve. Ban-chan, I don't think I'm hungry. I think I'm just too tired I can hardly sleep."

Ban chuckled and combed his hair with his fingers for a while before he turned back at me with a charming half-smile, "That's like… the biggest bullshit of the day, Ginji."

Silence.

"Hey, you know why rock stars are hot, Ban?"

"Huh?" he answered, looking totally confused—"Why the hell are we suddenly talking about rock stars? Don't you think being a getbacker is not cool enough?"

"Not that. I read somewhere that when someone has experienced at least a same-gender sex in his life, his sexual appeals will eventually increase. Perhaps, since most of them are bisexuals they have that crazy air about them, don't you think, Ban-chan?"

Ban clacked his tongue and laughed. Were it not already five minutes to midnight, I bet he'd laugh his heart off and disturb the entire calmness in Honky Tonk's second level. Then to my surprise, still with his messy hair, he scanned me with his sharp, hypermasculine eyes, twisted his body facing me, and slid his free right hand tracing the base of my neck. His movement was so seductive that were I a girl instead of his male best friend, I'd surely moan right at the moment that smooth skin of his caressed mine the way a fine silk fabric caresses a nobleman's bare shoulder.

"They think that's an adventure, Ginji, that reflects in their music, too. When rock musicians stop evolving, or had their artistic sides, say, or their senses of adventure stiffled badly by evil execs, they'll be losers.

"Don't you want an adventure, Ginji? I know you've been crazy about me all along," he smiled, showcasing me that smart aura about him that had always caused my self-confidence to drop miserably whenever he took the lead of speaking to our to-be clients. He was always so smart that people around him may easily felt that he was either undermining or intimidating them using his presence only. It was unfair—but this world was, in its nature—and some people are blessed with quick wits since the day they're born, and Ban was one of them, "I may be an asshole, but I'm not an insensitive jerk—not when it comes to you."

Quick as lightning, Ban pulled my face close to his and imprinted his lips on mine.

THE TASTE OF HIS LIPS WAS BITTERISH, BECAUSE OF THE CIGARETTES HE COULD'VE CHAIN-smoked all day long, but when I tasted them using my mind, it was like a safe haven above the word 'intoxicating'. It was insane, it was contagious—like his smile, like his entire presence—and I wanted to immortalize it were I presented with a clock that runs with the speed of light and is able to control the core of the universe—in other words, a clock of eternalness, where time will never ticks because it'd already been killed by such force—I'd surely pick Ban for my personal companion for a trip through the layers of eternity.

He was a poison in himself—he was deadly, but sweet, and all I wanted was to steal a part of him, and had him steal a part of me as well. There, as we exchanged saliva in our tensing, passionate kisses that got more and more intense by every passing second, when I could already feel the slight roughness of his tongue tracing my inner mouth entirely, all I wanted was to make him mine. Mine. Like a vampire who longs for a living person's blood, I wanted his blood to flow in my veins, I wanted to take his life away—sealing his fate—absorbing his soul as a souvenir for my inner longings.

When he started doing several pecks on my neck, and bit the tip of my throat, hard, I groaned and unconsciously pushed him back. Ban, confused, stopped his kisses and looked deep into me, as if to ask my permission to continue. I nodded hopelessly, but Ban was not yet satisfied. He wanted me to be comfortable, I could see, so I affirmed—"Go on, Ban-chan."—and he, to my setback, put his big hands on my shoulders and asked me—"Were they hurt? My bites, I mean, if they hurt you, I don't want to go on." He was being nice, but the way he did it was hot as hell's cauldron, and I could easily melt away like a block of ice on a piece of burning steel.

I could feel the raging soul inside me started asking for their ways to crawl out of reality and straight to the challenging layers of fantasy and euphoria, so after several seconds of silence I took the lead of kissing his lush, saliva-soaked lips once again. I couldn't tell whether my kiss was either enjoyable or sucked, but he gave me a proper reaction. He pulled me closer with his manly hands imprinted nicely on my back, as if he was about to give me a pair of wings to fly, and I had no other choice than to lean closer and grab his head with my fingers among those enchanting jet-black strands. After the kiss I pulled his head toward my neck, as if to signal him to finish his previous unfinished action—shortly after that, I'd felt his teeth on my flesh again, and his slim fingers tracing the flesh of my back under my shirt.

His hands were the masterpiece of the gods, and he caressed me so solemnly as if he was about to please the gods as well. I'd never experienced a moment like this before, not even when I was a leader of the prestigious VOLTS, or when I'd conquered a battle of two against several Mugenjouite infidels—no, I'd never experienced such blasting pleasure like a fiery serpent being forcefully pushed through my spine. Ban started undressing me, and I pressed his head harder toward my chest than before—I didn't know why I did that, probably because I wanted him to taste every inch of my flesh, and every bit of my soul—that was a man's most primitive longing, perhaps, because when we make love, we slowly develop several goals to be achieved in our heads as well, and it is the drive inside every man that leads them to do so. When he licked the reddened flesh of my nipples, then directly to the wound I'd just gotten several hours ago, I moaned and slowly started spreading my legs. I could clearly feel something went tense between my legs—my own organ. I could clearly feel its beats, and the rushes of blood inside it. It was a tower fueled by the flows of my blood, and the flesh for fantasy.

He was skillful, and even when my breaths started racing, I'd managed to ask him—"Have you done this before?" and he replied with his husky voice—"No."—I shot back, "Impossible. But you're…uhh—"I was practically unable to control the comfort he caused when he licked my firm stomach, and took a chance to bit my lower lip until it bleeded a little because the taste was too comfortable, almost ecstatic—"you're…nnh… experienced." I twisted my upper body in his strong arms, and wrapped my hopeless hands around his muscular waist. I'd imagined the immaculate curves of Michelangelo's David as I did so. I slowly unbuttoned the top of his leather pants, and slid the zipper to rescue his tightened meat as well.

"Probably because I want you—" Ban made a late reply and led me up, still sweaty in his embrace, and slid down his pants with one hand. I'd seen his firm thighs—those limbs of a dancer, or a model—and the roundness of his shaped butts the moment the fabrics went down. I loved seeing several veins that jutted out along with his lower arm muscles when he pressed the pants even lower—they were a tad sticky because of his sweat—, until they gathered as a heap of magnificent fabric around his ankles—"Ginji, I want you… too fucking much." It was his voice that gave him away. He was probably the leader of the dance tonight, but I'd taken the entire shows in his opera house.

"I want you too fucking much," he whispered before my ear—I was pretty convinced that I was already way too close to losing my entire sanity—then released my legs from my pants. It was shortly after that moment that our thighs stroked against each others—the sensation of the flesh-against-flesh made me shudder a bit—and as he put my right leg between his thighs I could clearly feel the firmness of those trained adductor muscles.

When Ban slowly led me laying on the floor one more time, I could say that I was ready to receive him the way a shot of Absinthe catches fire.

THE WAY OUR BODY TANGLED TOGETHER ON THE COLD WOODEN FLOOR, UNDER THE MOONLIGHT that filtered through the wide windows—with an absence of a square of glass at the topmost right corner, had made me remembered a passage written by Allen Ginsberg: "The warm bodies/ shine together/ the hand moves/ to the center/ of the flesh/ the skin trembles/ in happiness/ and the soul comes/ joyful to the eye". Indeed, we were already like a mob of flesh on the floor, and the tone our bodies exuded looked elegant under the silverish moonlight.

Sitting on the bed, Ban sat me up on his warm, sweaty thighs, and moved both of us back and forth as he rammed into my back. I screamed—"Ban-chan! Ban-chan!"—but he couldn't hear me. It wasn't noisy in there, but it the sound of our running breaths, and the extraterrestrial consciousness Ban was currently in had made him slightly deaf. I told you, the pleasure in making love can be poisonous, and following it a man's most primitive sense of achievement. When you're about to achieve something, will you stop? And so wouldn't he.

"Nnnh…can't…hold…this…anymore," I almost exploded like a pile of dry leaves on the dry summer soil. Still, he continued ramming deeper into me, and I realized that I was nothing else but a single dot of dust in the infinite vastness of the galaxy.

"Hold on, Ginji," he leaned closer against my back, and I could feel his dampened warm flesh imprinted on mine, making me explode in another round of joy and lust even before he knew it, "you're fucking beautiful—I'm crazy about you."

I smiled—the good thing was that he couldn't see my face—and I knew I'd emerged victorious. Not because my adoration toward the handsome half-German was not one-sided, but it was because he finally admitted. Come on; he was forever aloof, reserved, and slightly egomaniac—having heard his pure-and-simple confession could mean a thousand silver fleets from a faraway kingdom for me.

It didn't take long until we soaked ourselves in sweat, saliva, and the juice of our dreams. We both collapsed on the floor with his body atop mine. Our chests moved up and down restlessly because we were both panting hard, and we were about to run out of our breaths dared we continue another round—although, were that to happen, I wouldn't mind.

He went asleep with his body still on top of mine, and although I loved the way the liquids we radiated blended together in our dreamy aftermath of sheer pleasure, I still had to push his body away before I died of suffocation—

Of intoxication and fantasy.

THE END


UPDATE:

The story from Ban's POV is up.

Read Before Twilight : .net/s/6315094/1/Before_Twilight

Author's Note:

The title is taken after the best novel ever written, After Dark (Japanese: Afutā Dāku) by Haruki Murakami. If you want to see the story from Ban's POV as well, please note me in the review. Thanks!

PS:

Everyone's favorite homoerotic pair (and mine, second to Ban and Shido), and there's no reason not to love them.

I don't try to imply that they're actually gays—no, indeed, that's not what I tried to convey—it happened because of their adventurous souls.

Call me ridiculous, but aren't all of us are adventurers in ourselves?