Heat of the Moment

Title: Heat of the Moment
Author: Tsutsuji
Rating: R
Warning: some violence, and blood - of course; it's Jackal after all
Springkink Round VIII Prompt: 11/7, Get Backers; Ban/Akabane: in the heat of the moment - "love cuts just like a knife / you make the knife feel good"
Word count: 1802
Summary: "He wanted it. Ban was sure of it, every time he won like this; there was no other way it would happen so often."
AN: yay I finally got to write about them again! ^^ For AmethystHunter, of course.

~~~

Akabane's scalpels were always so quick and clean that it took a few seconds for the skin to realize it had been cut. Crimson drops scattered in the wind of motion even before the pain registered. By then, Ban was already twenty feet past the point of impact and turning to face the Jackal again, heels gouging into the earth to stop himself and spin around. Drops of his own blood hit his own cheek as he turned, at the same second the pain blossomed in his upper arm.

The battle-grin on his face only widened, but his heart beat even a little faster; that one was closer than he'd planned on, and deeper. Added to the stinging fire of a half-dozen other small slices Jackal had been lucky enough to land, it made his blood sing in his veins and his nerves dance, even as he went stone-still in a crouch for the next attack.

Jackal stood poised silently as well, at the opposite end of their dusty little battlefield on the far side of a junkyard. City sounds were muffled by twisted towers of rusty metal and a thick, corrugated steel wall. Daylight was fading into a gray dusk, but it was still plenty light enough for them to see each other, even through the dust they'd already raised.

Akabane's fingers clenched, claw-like, in front of his chest, and his breath had been a harsh grunt as he also landed and turned, but that was all the sign he gave of the soft crunch Ban knew he had felt when his fist connected with Akabane's ribcage on that last pass. No more than cartilage giving way to his snake-fast attack, then, Ban guessed. It would take a lot more of his strength than that to crack Akabane's steely bones.

Ban's knuckles popped softly as he flexed his hand into a fist again. Jackal peered up at him from under the brim of his hat, eyes narrowed and glittering, grin firmly in place. Then they were moving again, both at once, a blur of motion, the flash of steel and the flap of clothing, in the exhilarating twist and flow of their battle-dance.

Ban hissed this time when the blade sliced the back of his hand, feeling the impact before the bright line of pain lit up his nerves. His other fist slipped right past the Jackal's chin, close enough to brush the skin, but useless to do any damage.

Then Akabane's face was so close that he could see the elated smile under the shadow of his hat, the flash of amethyst eyes behind the veil of his hair. He could also see the surprise register in both when, a second later, Ban closed that same fist on the Jackal's wrist and flung it backward, just as he'd planned to do with that feint to the jaw. His aim was perfect. The protruding wrist bone cracked against a steel-covered post in the junkyard wall, impacting nerves and tendons precisely as he'd intended. Jackal's fingers splayed open, grip suddenly (and temporarily) numbed, and three blades, one of them red-edged, fell from nerveless fingers and thunked into the dirt, point down, in front of Ban's toes.

Ban's face was even closer to Akabane's now as he let his momentum carry him forward, smashing Akabane back against the clanging metal wall. The usual Jackal smile was a grimace in the shadows under his hat, eyes briefly unfocused in pain and surprise. Jackal hissed as Ban's body slammed into his. Ban felt the intake of breath against his own lips and smiled, just before he sealed their mouths together.

Jackal remained stiff for a moment, ready to fight him still. His free hand clamped onto the loose tail of Ban's shirt, fisted against his ribs. A dangerous place for a Jackal's hand, if this fight had not been already over and decided.

Ban still held Jackal's wrist pinned back against that wall, but he loosened his grip enough to let his middle finger caress the open palm. At the same time he swiveled his hips against the other man, thrusting a leg between Jackal's thighs, and nipping at still resistant lips. Jackal hissed again, sucking on Ban's breath, when Ban's erection prodded roughly against his leg.

Jackal allowed himself a quiet sigh and let just a little of the tension drain from his body. The tip of his tongue curled around Ban's, enticing it into his mouth to taste hot breath, always slightly metallic. Akabane twisted against him a little, too, only enough to bring their aroused bodies more into line.

"Once again, you've won the first kiss, it seems," Akabane sighed against his lips a moment later. His tone sounded annoyed, but his usually smooth voice was already a little rough around the edges. His eyes, however, glinted with amusement as he continued, probably guessing the effect his words of defeat would have on Ban. "Ah well, it can't be helped! I was careless for a moment, so now, according to the rules of our game, I am in your control. Which way do you intend to take me this time, Ban-kun?" he asked, his silky voice dropping to a whisper.

Ban shivered as the cool voice slid down his spine like a shot of whiskey, or better, like the red lines of pain that still sang in his skin, sending fire straight to his cock. Every one of those cuts he'd just received in the heat of their battle still burned in his skin, a hint of the animal hunger that he was about to unleash on his defeated lover.

"I like the look of you plastered against this wall," Ban said, as casually as he could manage with his heartbeat pounding in his cock. Still holding Akabane's wrist pinned to the corrugated metal, he reached down with his free hand to grope between them. "Heh. Seems like it works all right for you, too, Jackal," he teased.

Jackal's eyes closed briefly, then opened to glance past Ban's shoulder. He scanned the junkyard and the piles of mangled metal, before slipping back to focus on Ban's face again.

"Not the most elegant or comfortable of settings, but I suppose it will do. However, I will remember this on the next occasion when it becomes my turn to pick the time and place," he warned.

"Fine with me," Ban countered, "Just remember, you actually have to win first before you get that chance! Think about your elegant setting all you want while I'm fucking you into this wall; for now, just turn around!"

Jackal smirked as Ban released his wrist at last. Ban lifted the brim of his hat away from his face as a hint, and Jackal swept both hat and coat off and tossed them aside before turning - with all of his customary grace, no matter the circumstances - and splaying his hands against the metal wall.

Ban's erection strained at the sight of him there, legs spread, hips cantered back suggestively, his eyes slowly closing as he pressed his face against the metal as if it were another lover.

Ban didn't waste any more time on talk or much else, beyond the necessity of removing enough clothing to get what he wanted. The battle itself was their foreplay, and Akabane didn't need or expect much else in the way of preparation before Ban was plunged deep inside of him. Their harsh breaths echoed dully together off the junkyard walls. He held Akabane's wrists pinned to the wall, pressed his face against the dark strands of hair, whispered the most vulgar words he could think of in all the languages he knew, and with every word and every thrust, Akabane gasped a little deeper and thrust back against him a little harder.

He wanted it. Ban was sure of it, every time he won like this; there was no other way it would happen so often. They both fought with all they had, barely short of deadly force in this game they played. As perfectly matched as they were, that ought to mean equal wins and losses on both sides, but Ban won that first kiss far more often than he lost.

Whether Akabane gave himself like this as gift, because he knew how much Ban loved to take him hard and pound all his desire into that wire-strong, strangely beautiful body, or whether it was something the Transporter needed for himself - Ban wasn't sure, and didn't need to know. Didn't ever intend to ask, and figured he wouldn't get a clear answer anyway, just like Akabane would never get an admission from him about how surprisingly often he got lucky enough to cut Ban during their foreplay-battles. He wasn't about to admit that every slice of Akabane's blade, every touch of those bloody knives that were a part of his lover's own body, made him so hot and hard he could barely see - just as he was certain Akabane would never acknowledge his own need to submit to Ban in defeat.

It was perfect this time. They came almost together, with a mingled shout that seemed to rattle the junk piled up all around them.

Ban kept them pinned against the wall together afterward, leaning on it as much to hold himself up as to keep Akabane there, but with both of their arms wrapped around Akabane's lanky body until their breathing fell back toward normal. He nuzzled his lips against the scar that spilled over his lover's shoulder, and Jackal turned his head to press his chin against Ban's hair.

Dusk had turned to night by the time they were ready to move again. A couple of flickering security lights had come on, but this corner of the junkyard stayed dark, filled with black, misshapen shadows. Ban wondered how long it would be before anyone noticed the neatly sliced power lines to the light pole back here in this forsaken little corner.

While they still leaned there together, cooling down but not quite ready to move enough to get dressed yet, Ban lightly prodded the couple of spots where his fist had connected on Akabane's body. He found a nice bruise on his skinny ribs, just as he'd expected, but nothing else that was even notable enough to make Akabane wince when he touched it.

The cuts in his own skin burned with a dull, ordinary fire now, their erotic power all but burned out. Most of them weren't deep enough to worry about; he'd fire them up again when he got home with a nice splash of alcohol to clean them out. And if he had his way, when he did so, Jackal would be there with him to catch his scream with an amused and hungry kiss.

~ end ~