Blood, a get backers fanfic

Summary: When Ban goes looking for Ginji, he ends up being found by Dr. Jackal. Does Ban emerge unscathed from the encounter? Ban X Akabane.

Disclaimer: I do not own get Backers. If I did, Ban would be chained to my….ahem…never mind, let's move on.

Rating: T for language and adult situations.

Blood

Blood.

Lots of it. And such a brilliant color too, crimson. Crimson was flowing down, from his shoulder, the viscous fluid making rivulets down his arms, dripping onto the sidewalk from the ends of his fingers, reminding him of badly shot horror movies that had little or no horror, unless you counted the shrill shrieking of the leading lady as her clothes and skin would be torn by the claws of some cumbersome, ill-conceived monster with long claws and bad make-up.

He gagged. Somewhere down his throat, his lungs were trying to expel the blood and he fell over. He retched, and after a fit of violent coughing, spat the blood in his mouth out. He tried to lift himself up, off the rain-slicked pavement, but his arms buckled, and he crashed into the concrete bruising his face. Ban pulled his legs up and pushing away, with all his might, managed to sit up against the wall. He looked down at his wasted shoulder. It was crushed.

Akabane had left nothing to chance. He had been cornered just as he had thought he'd finally found Ginji. But instead of Ginji, Akabane had been waiting for him, ready to strike. He hardly had time to react. Ban shook with silent rage. Akabane. The man was insane, it seemed as though he still hadn't figured out whether he wanted to kill him, or fuck him. Or both.

Halfway through the fight, Dr. Jackal had pulled him close and slammed him against the wall, again and again till his head was spinning. Ban had nearly screamed with anger. If he wanted to fight, then he should fight! He stopped, as though he had read the unspoken annoyance in the Jagan master's scowl. Akabane laughed, a low rumbling in his throat, and then smirking, enjoying the upper hand over the cocky brunette, he pulled Ban towards him by the lapels of his shirt and slowly tilted his head forward.

Ban jerked his face away. "What the hell do you think you're doing, you maniac?" His fury was evident in his voice.

Akabane was completely unfazed. A lesser man might have backed away and left by now, but not Akabane. But then, no other man would have the guts to pin Ban Midou to a wall, not twelve paces from the Honky Tonk. He simply smiled and gently stroked Ban's face with a scalpel.

"I should think, its pretty obvious, isn't it Midou? You're a bit distracted today. I hardly feel as though this is you I'm fighting. I'm disappointed."

Ban bristled. "I'm not here to amuse you. Let me go and I'll let you live."

Akabane narrowed his eyes. He moved the scalpel down along Ban's jaw and brought it to rest at the hollow of his throat. "You are hardly in a position…to threaten me Midou. Be still and I'll consider being gentle." He bent his head and pressed his lips to Ban's throat, gently caressing his skin and memorizing every shudder that the dream weaver couldn't suppress with his tongue.

Ban tried to push him away but Akabane moved in even closer, pressing his body against Ban's, he held the scalpel with one hand, and pulled Ban's head down with the other. The blade pierced through the soft flesh. Ban gasped, the sting of the scalpel merging with the softness of the other man's tongue. He bit his lip, willing himself to ignore the waves of pleasure and pain that seared through his veins. He tried to steel himself, but Akabane had started moving up his neck, dropping little breathless kisses all the way till he reached the lobe of his ear.

Nipping it gently with his teeth, he slowly removed the knife and wound his arm around Ban's waist. Ban snapped his eyes open, his breath was caught in his throat and for the first time in his life, he didn't dare meet the eyes of his opponent. He stared at his feet, wondering what Jackal would do next. Would he leave him alone now, or was he going to finish what he started?

That kiss or whatever it was…it had left him breathless, gasping, and needing more. Good god! He was sick! He was fishing for kisses…and perhaps something more…from a madman, a lunatic, a man who would think nothing of slicing his throat even as he lay in bed with him. What the fuck! Where the hell had that image come from? What is your fucking problem, Ban? Have you completely lost your mind…?

Akabane watched with satisfaction as Ban stopped struggling and instead focused all his energy into staring at his feet. The sassy brunette refused to meet his gaze. He would not look up, he stood, leaning against him, limp, vulnerable to anything and everything Akabane wished to inflict. Akabane smirked. This was proving to be easier than he had thought. He lazily cupped Ban's jaw with his hand and nibbled on his earlobe, smiling as the younger man's heavy breathing melted into a moan.

Akabane pushed him back against the wall, still holding him encircled in his arms, Ban jutted his chin forward and looked defiantly at him, daring him to claim his lips. The Jackal moved back a pace and smiled. His eyes swept hungrily over Ban's frame, stopping to stare at his lips, slightly parted, his warm breath curling out of his mouth in white smoke.

He noticed the trail of blood that his knife had left on Ban's alabaster smooth skin; it trickled down from his neck, past his collar bone disappearing into his shirt. It was so beautiful, crimson red; he could scarcely draw his eyes away from it. All he wanted to do now was to…

Ban watched warily as Akabane stepped forward again. He raised his gloved hands and entwined his fingers in his hair, tilting his head back a fraction, before bending his head to place his mouth directly over the cut he himself had made a minute ago. Ban swayed, and placed his hands on Jackal's hips to steady himself. Akabane smiled against the cut and slowly covered the wound with his tongue, tasting the blood oozing out of it.

Ban didn't know how long they stood there like that, clenched in each other's arms, Akabane's lips on his neck and his own caressing the killer's cold jaw. Akabane suddenly stepped back, leaving Ban to collapse on the pavement. He was already weak from injuries sustained on his shoulder, and Akabane's kiss had done the rest.

As he sat, half dazed, on the pavement, clutching his shoulder, he felt the other's breath in his ear as he whispered, "you really ought to stop smoking Ban-kun, even your blood's beginning to taste like nicotine".