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“Hey, is it possible for you to even like this stuff?”
Mouth full of meat pie, Gowther flicks his gaze across the table to the cook of the dish. Ban meets his stare through half-lidded eyes, his face ruddy from all the ale they’d broken in with their friends earlier. They were the last two left awake now.
Gowther puts down his fork and considers.
“I suppose I can. My body can still react to it, regardless of whether I have an emotional response or not.”
Piqued, Ban props his head up on his hands, scrutinizing the blankness on Gowther’s face.
Unflinching, Gowther meets the stare and shovels another bite of pie into his mouth with an audible “nomf”. Admittedly, that habit is funny, in its own charming way.
“Okay, so? What do you think then?”
“Everyone says your cooking is good. They often say it’s better than the captain’s.”
Ban rolls his eyes, smiling tiredly.
“Yeah, and? You agree with them?”
“Hm, nomf.” Gowther takes another bite, speaking around a full mouth. “I don’t have a preference. The aroma of your cooking is more intense than the captain's though, and it gets distracting at times.”
Ban laughs, “Well, there’s a take I wasn’t expecting.”
Gowther gives a hollow laugh, echoing Ban’s sentiment to the best of his ability. Ban smiles strangely at this attempt to emulate emotion. Something unnamed, like hunger, but more profound than physical, stirs up in Gowther’s empty chest.
Much like hunger, his curiosity overwhelms. What is it like, he wonders as usual, to feel the force that awakens the laughter, the sorrow, he sees painted across his comrade’s face?
Gowther finishes his pie in silence, thanking Ban for the meal. He wonders if Ban will use this instance as a cue to part for the night.
But Ban doesn’t move, his body drooping into the table. Gowther remains seated.
“You’re unusually quiet now. I wonder what’s on your mind.”
Vigilant of Gowther lifting a hand to peek, Ban covers the back of his neck with sluggish hands.
“Please don’t read my mind.”
Respectfully, Gowther refrains. But he presses.
“Will you tell me then? I would like to help.”
Ban scoffs, “I doubt you can.”
“I cannot learn how to help you if you don’t let me try.”
Ban looks up, and for the first time, notices something equally as despondent hiding behind Gowther’s eyes. His judgment clouded—no, perhaps cleared, by alcohol, he allows his heart to open.
“Gowther. You… ever made a promise you couldn’t keep?”
“Go and realize the dream I wasn’t able to fulfill.”
At the sudden sensory memory of cold, wet stone, Gowther stumbles.
“I… that’s debatable.” Gowther deflects the question, “Have you?”
“Huh. Also debatable, you could say.”
Gowther cocks his head to the side, “You haven’t yet fulfilled your promise then?”
“Well. To be honest," Ban sits up, though his head continues to droop, "there’s someone I promised I would save. Someone I love more than life itself.”
Those words awaken a faint heaviness within him. Gowther chases the sensation, wondering what’s bringing it about.
“Go on.”
“But as the days go by, it's starting to seem more and more impossible. I'm running out of options. So I can't help but wonder if…”
“...if you should just... give up?”
As the words leave his lips, Gowther feels a familiar heaviness within him, if ever faintly.
Ban flicks Gowther’s nose, eliciting a flat “ouch”.
“Took the words right outta my mouth. But I told you not to read my mind.”
“I didn’t. That just seemed to be the most logical way to end your sentence.”
“Oh. I guess that much was obvious, huh?” Ban sighs. “But yeah. I’m at a loss. The facts are that the love of my life is dead, and I’m still here. Forever.”
The heaviness grows deeper, gnawing. Gowther leans into it further.
His own suggestion surprises him.
“If you’re giving up, perhaps I can offer you closure.”
Ban perks up at the suggestion.
“Interesting offer. And how exactly would you do that?”
“We can play out a scenario. I can pretend to be your lost lover.”
Ban almost laughs, “You don’t look like her though.”
“If you allow me to use my ability, I could make it so that I take on her appearance and voice to you. Then you can spend those moments saying goodbye to her exactly the way you wish to.”
“Exactly, huh?” Ban bites his lip, “I dunno… you sure about what you're offering there? I mean, she was my girlfriend, if you get what I'm saying...”
Gowther nods in understanding, a hot sensation prickling under his skin. He leans further into it, ever curious to discover its trigger.
“I don't mind. Whatever you need to do. I told you I would help, didn’t I?”
Ban hesitates. The silence falls between them like a humid cloud, as if the air felt too thick to breathe.
“And... what would you get out of this?”
Gowther reaches over to touch Ban's shoulder. He, of course, has his own motive to understand more about emotions, but he would be kidding himself to say this was an entirely selfish gesture.
“I’d hope to learn more about how to comfort a sad friend.”
Moved by his answer, Ban stands up.
“Worth a shot. Let’s go.”
Ban leads Gowther up to his bedroom, heart hammering away in his chest. He knows it's not going to be his Elaine, and yet the idea of seeing her again at all, alive and breathing, even just to say goodbye...
If Gowther could fool him for even one second, then maybe his heart can know an ounce of peace.
After turning on the nightstand lamp, Gowther leads him to sit atop the bed. Gently, he places his hands on his shoulders and pushes Ban to lie down. Ban swallows, looking up into his friend's soft golden eyes. Is it a trick of the low light or the booze, to swear that he sees affection buried deep within that empty gaze?
"You seem nervous now," Gowther's hands slide down his shoulders. He lowers himself so that he's face to face with Ban. "Do you have any questions?"
"Uh, so… how am I… going to remember tonight, in the future?"
"It depends on how this will go. If it goes well, I'll commit this to your memory so that you believe you had truly seen your lover, as if she came to you in your sleep."
This gives Gowther pause, questioning if he himself should remember tonight. Ban quickly licks his lips, kicking up a strange feeling in the pit of Gowther's gut.
"And if not?"
"Then I can erase your memory of this night completely, if you want," Gowther gives a shake of the head, standing back up.
"Okay, awesome, that's fair."
Taking that, Gowther climbs atop Ban, and lights up both hands with pink magical energy.
"Are you ready then?"
Ban takes a deep breath.
"Yeah," He closes his eyes, "fire away."
Carefully, Gowther cradles Ban's head in both hands, and enters the illusion.
The memories move through Gowther’s mind like a river rushing out to meet the sea. Gowther takes in day after day, spent in the Fairy King’s Forest, a near-endless summer and a small world seemingly occupied by only two people. The situation evokes indescribable sensations within him, as he memorizes each look on Elaine’s face, the sound of her voice, the shape of her frame, the details of her apparel, the patterns of her speech and gesture, before proceeding forward.
With the transformation completed, Gowther clears his throat.
"Ban, wake up."
At the sound of Elaine's voice, Ban snaps his eyes open. Just as promised, he wakes up to see his beloved fairy maiden, hovering right above him.
Gowther holds Ban's cheeks in his hands, attempting to mimic the gentleness he's read in countless romantic tales, and seen in Ban's memories.
His heart skips a beat as Ban reaches up to cling to Gowther's back, embracing him tightly. The warmth of a body, the smell of skin, the quickness of another person's pulse, stirs up an overwhelming, nearly painful sense of nostalgia, somehow.
"Elaine," Ban chokes out, nuzzling into his friend, "Elaine, I've missed you so much."
Gowther returns the embrace, as if he too has someone else in mind. But he sticks to his script, fighting off the warm haze clouding his thoughts.
"I've missed you too," Gowther whispers. Ban backs off slightly, bringing a palm up to caress Gowther's cheek.
"What are you doing here?"
"I can't explain. We don't have much time," Gowther insists, borrowing the cliche line from one of the novels he'd read last night. “I just had to come here, to say goodbye to you. Properly, this time.”
He leans his face slightly into Ban’s palm, knowing what comes next.
Gowther supposes he knows what happens in tragic romances like these, but only from fiction. He mistakes the familiarity of the moment when the other person leans in, the moment when he feels their breath ghosting briefly over his own lips, for a common scenario he’s read before over and over.
But as Ban’s mouth meets his own, a dam breaks open inside of him instead.
As their lips move together, with Ban’s fingers threading through his hair, the sensation elicits a profound ache, enough that he cannot restrain his body’s need to cry. Why does this experience feel so deeply familiar? And why is it causing his tears to flow?
Could this be what sorrow is, and for what reason exactly? It isn’t as if Gowther is the one mourning a dead lover…
As Gowther mimics Ban, also running a hand through his hair, the other pulls back to breathe shakily. Noticing the tears also staining Ban’s cheeks, a sense of urgency, or desperation perhaps, surges through Gowther. Leaning into the instincts of his body, he chases Ban’s mouth with his own, as if he truly couldn’t bear to have even an inch of separation in this limited time.
Ban pulls back again to breathe, before burying his face in Gowther’s chest.
“Elaine, I”m so sorry,” Ban sobs, “I’ve tried everything I could, and I still couldn’t… I can’t...”
Revisiting the memory of Elaine's death, their final life-giving kiss in the Fairy King's Forest, the ache intensifies. A hazy image of blood soaked into cold skin flickers through his mind. Another surge of pain courses through Gowther's core.
“Ban, please don’t cry,” He insists, trying to ignore the foggy mist that clings to his invisible glasses. "I know you tried. It's okay…"
Ban chokes back another sob, shaking his head, digging it into Gowther's chest.
"But I promised you…"
Gowther strokes his hair, holding Ban close. At the back of Gowther's mind, a soft, tiny voice croons sweetly.
"You've done enough," Gowther reassures, surprised by the force of his own sincerity. He reminds himself of the reality that waits outside this illusion, and then says, "It's impossible now, so just give up on me. And live your life…"
As he begins to stop believing his own words, Ban clings tighter to him.
"Don't leave yet."
Breath catching in his throat, Gowther clings tightly to Ban too, seeking to pinpoint the mounting pain deep within him.
"I won't," he promises, lying back so that the weight of Ban's frame presses down into his. "Not until you've had your fill of me."
Ban pushes himself up to look Gowther in the eyes, despair and desire mingled in his teary red irises. There it is again, that determination he saw when Ban went after the captain, intending to kill.
Gowther stares back up at him, struck silent by the intensity. A thrill surges through him as Ban replies.
"Then I'll take everything you can give me."
Yet again, Ban's mouth covers his own, unceasingly tender, yet ferociously possessive. Gowther returns that same energy in kind, slipping his tongue between Ban's parted lips.
Ban makes a soft, weak sound at the back of his throat, evoking hot, electric sensations in Gowther's blood. Much to the befuddlement of his mind, his body craves to hear more.
Pursuing this craving, Gowther explores the terrain of his friend's body with his hands, dipping his touch beneath the red leather. Ban moans low at the back of his throat as Gowther caresses up his sides, smoothing delicate fingers over the supple muscles of his back.
True to the name of his sin, Ban greedily slides his own hands down to grope at Gowther's rear. In reaction, Gowther gasps lightly against his friend's mouth, and Ban squeezes possessively, pulling him in close enough to feel his growing erection.
"Ban…" Gowther mewls faintly, grinding his hips forward.
Ban's frame trembles as he grinds his hips back, pressing their bodies flush together. Intoxicated by the friction, Gowther clutches at his friend's back, fixated solely on the sound of Ban panting.
"Call my name again," Ban growls low in his throat, voice hoarse, "please…"
“Ban,” Gowther repeats, louder, digging his fingers deeper into Ban’s skin. “Ban, more, please...”
He practically feels the shiver that runs up Ban's spine, right under his fingertips. Ban rises briefly, just to pull off and throw aside his jacket, before bearing down on Gowther once again.
“Anything you want, babe.”
Their lips collide once more, momentarily, before Ban's kisses trail along Gowther's jaw down to the side of his throat.
As Ban pushes up the white fabric of his dress, Gowther resumes clinging to Ban's back, trying to steady himself. The sensation of a wet, soft tongue and sharp teeth barely scraping over Gowther's neck sends an immeasurable heat wave of pleasure through him.
The pleasure only mounts as Ban slips a hand between Gowther's legs, rubbing over the slickness gathered there.
Gowther cannot restrain himself any further, fingernails clawing into his friend's back, pleading whimpers spilling freely past his lips.
"Ban, Ban—aah, Ban!"
Encouraged, Ban easily adds one, then two fingers into his wet opening. Gowther spreads his trembling legs wider, relishing the initial sting, the pressure as Ban holds his hand so carefully still.
Ban watches the way Gowther’s face twists up, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. A gush of warmth fills his empty chest, causing another wave of tears to pour forth.
“This okay?”
Gowther nods quickly, breath hitching on a choked moan as Ban slowly begins to pump his fingers in and out. It isn't long until he finds a spot inside Gowther that has him clenching, then gasping desperately as Ban exploits it over and over in short strokes.
Gowther squeezes his eyes shut against the onslaught of this dazzling, puzzling sensation… overwhelming, like the fragrance of warm spices.
As he opens his eyes again, his gaze meets nothing but tender crimson eyes. Once again, it's familiar somehow, stirring up a powerful, desperate need to give something of himself.
"Please, let me..."
Gowther slips a palm up to cup Ban's cheek, dipping the other downwards to unbutton his pants, then tug down his underwear. Feeling that delicate palm grip clumsily at his erection, Ban exhales a heady, shivering sigh right against Gowther's mouth, before kissing him again.
Shutting his eyes again, Gowther notes the warmth of those lips against his own, and the throb of the cock in his hand. His mind races with comparisons to several lusty tales, contemplating their accuracy compared to this experience. But his body sings a different tune, derailing to focus back again and again on Ban fingering him, hitting that spot ceaselessly, making delicious scissoring motions as Gowther pumps his dick more vigorously.
"Elaine," Ban murmurs against his mouth between kisses, "Elaine, I love you."
"I love... you too…" Gowther manages to reply, wondering what he would feel emotionally in this moment, if he had a heart. Perhaps even without one, he does mean it, sincerely. All he feels, physically, is the heat against him, and the inexplicable heaviness fluttering within him.
How strange to think that this, too, is only a story of their own creation.
Having reminded himself of this fact, Gowther follows the narrative to its logical end, pulling away his hand and sitting up so that Ban must also withdraw. Ban nods in mutual understanding, moving to undo the ribbon at Gowther's back.
Gowther then kneels over Ban's lap, taking off his dress completely, before lowering himself onto Ban's cock. They lock eyes the entire time, and Gowther notes the dreamy, forlorn smile on Ban's face.
Gowther smiles back, as he begins to rock his hips in a slow, gentle rhythm, enjoying the sensations of fullness and warmth. He savors each small gasp drawn from Ban's throat, pleased to think he must have been successful in comforting his friend.
As a token of gratitude for this intriguing exchange, Gowther leans in to kiss him once again. Unfortunately, that's when the illusion begins to break.
Gowther stops short, surprised to see a young woman's face instead of Ban's. All of the heaviness within him suddenly explodes, becoming painfully paralyzing. Why does he recognize her face?
Why can't he stop sobbing?
"Babe?" Ban takes Gowther's face in both hands, "Babe, are you okay?"
As Ban's face reappears in her stead, Gowther feels like his very soul has been ripped viciously from his body. Every inch of his skin burns with agony.
Unable to maintain his power, he gives up a great wail as the illusion fully shatters.
Ban immediately wakes up in his bed to find Gowther atop him, fully clothed. He looms over Ban, trembling, and unable to stop the onslaught of tears blurring his vision.
"I don't understand…" Gowther speaks in an empty tone, betraying the deep grief that paints his features.
Ban stares up at Gowther, shocked to see him crying.
"Gowther, are you…?"
At the sound of his own name, the doll hangs his head in shame.
"I'm sorry, I…" Gowther shakes his head, teardrops falling onto Ban's cheeks, "I don't understand what happened."
"Hey," Ban says softly, sitting up to embrace his friend, "hey, Gowther, it's okay."
Gowther, now seated in Ban's lap, returns the embrace, still unable to stop trembling.
"Ban, I'm sorry," He repeats, noting that Ban's erection has gone soft. "I failed to give you closure."
"Then let's just forget it, alright?" He hugs Gowther a little tighter, being careful not to hurt him. "That's what you said we'd do if it went to shit."
"Right, I…" Gowther blinks, removing his misty glasses as they continue to embrace. "I failed. I'm sorry."
"Okay, now you're sounding like a broken record."
Ban backs off to look him in the eyes. Gowther squints, now scrubbing his glasses against the bottom of his shirt.
"I'm not sure what else to say other than an apology. Surely you must be disappointed, if not otherwise upset."
"Well, yeah, you're not wrong, but beating yourself up about it won't make the situation any better either."
Gowther muses, blurrily staring down at his glasses, "That is true…"
"Look, Gowther, I really appreciate what you tried to do for me tonight. So, thank you."
"Interesting.” Gowther looks back up at him, “Why thank me for my efforts if I've failed you?"
"Aw, geez, I dunno," Ban rolls his eyes, reaching out to wipe the last of the tears from Gowther's face. "It was nice to play it out anyway though."
"It was," Gowther agrees, a faint smile on his face. "Thank you for indulging my curiosity. Are you ready to forget now?"
Gowther backs away slightly from Ban, putting his glasses back on.
Ban hesitates, noticing the remnant tremors in his frame, "I mean, are you... really okay, or...?"
"If this is about my unexpected bodily reaction, I am fine," Gowther affirms, now getting out of bed. "There's no need for you to fret over emotions I don't have. Now, are you ready to forget?"
Ban doesn't buy it, but he relents anyway, figuring it'd be better not to pry.
"Sure, go ahead."
As agreed, Gowther erases Ban's memory of this encounter, filling in the blank with an unexpected pep talk to not give up so easily on Elaine. For consistency's sake, he makes it so that Ban remembers hearing most of the pep talk in this bedroom, followed by Gowther quietly reading a story by his bedside until he falls asleep.
Immediately after creating the new memory, Gowther actually makes Ban fall asleep, tucking him in before leaving the room.
Shutting the door behind him, he pauses, now wondering if he too should erase his own memory of this. He closes his eyes, thinks of that young woman's face, and feels a flutter in his chest at the thought of her… altogether pleasant and painful.
"What an unusual mystery…" Gowther murmurs to no one, deciding to keep tonight to himself.
Heading away to the balcony, he turns it over and over in his head for clues, wondering why it hurt so much.