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Sweeter Lies

Summary:

During a cold and already fitful night, Nine is kept awake by thoughts of a certain fellow banker.

Notes:

I am temporarily back from the dead with another Blood Bank fic
College is literally killing me and the only time I have to write is over breaks;
But, that being said, I am trying to make more time to write and pay attention to my other fics. In the meantime, I give you this short little one-shot about one of the purest characters in this entire webcomic. Nine deserved better.
None of these characters belongs to me, all ownership goes to Silb
Thank you to all who stop by for a read, and hope you enjoy :)

Work Text:

               Nine sat propped up in his bed. His thoughts would not allow him to sleep. An occurrence whose frequency he had stopped keeping track of was pervading his mind, once again. He was kept awake by One…well, thoughts of him, at least.

               Nine had been alone for most of his life and at times this happened. Weakened by the need to sleep but lacking the ability to, he was more vulnerable in this state. It was rather dark outside, an indicator of early evening. Yet it was not quite late enough to go to work, or even get ready for it; Nine guessed it was only about four or five in the evening. He let out a defeated sigh. While he wanted to fight it, if only for the knowledge that giving in would do him absolutely no good, he had no means of distracting himself. He spent the majority of his days—and almost all of his nights before he fell asleep—fiercely suppressing this way of thinking, knowing full well the dangerous path it would take him down. He had nothing else to do; one slip-up in that track record couldn’t hurt. At least he would be happy for the first time in months—despite the false nature of that feeling. He decided to let his thoughts run free.  

                One was a man Nine respected. And it began as innocently as that. Yet he couldn’t ignore the man’s handsome features or confidence in his work. Soon One became someone Nine looked up to, and then fell for. Despite this pitiful crush lasting so long, Nine was doing a good job of hiding it; he kept his interactions with One professional, and contented himself with yearning glances only when the man wasn’t looking. But every day became more torturous. The kind smile One would—albeit very rarely—flash in his direction, the patient words he would tell Nine in a lowered voice whenever the smaller male got nervous—each thing the man did made his heart constrict a little more painfully.  It was stupid, really, how profoundly it affected him. But as with most things in his life, he was powerless to fight against the hold it had on him. Despite how much he knew he was only hurting himself, it made him think about what it would be like to be with him.

                He imagined One’s smile, the warm one he only showed when something happened that made him genuinely happy. It was different than the fake smiles he would ply customers with, feigning cheerfulness and masking something less jovial. One’s real smile was soft, and comforting. It was a smile that held no judgement and reached all the way to his beautiful dark eyes, making them even more captivating. Nine gave a tiny, shy smile. A blush lightly pinked his cheeks.  The slight chance that One might shine that smile on him from across the room at work…

                Nine honestly couldn’t help himself. At this point he was already too far gone. He envisaged One’s strong, protective arms gently coming around his waist, wrapping him in a secure embrace that exuded safety. Another sigh escaped him, this time one of contentment. He snuggled into the paltry warmth of his blanket, imagining it was coming from One. It was freezing tonight, even with the window tightly shut, and normally he would be curled in a ball, shaking under the thin fabric as he was very susceptible to the cold. But right now, imagining One’s arms around him, a soft feeling warmed his chest. Different scenarios played in his head. A warm look from across the room every so often. A reassuring yet discreet squeeze of his hand as One passed by, whenever Nine became particularly overwhelmed or anxious. How his lips would taste…the feeling of One’s tongue against his own…

                Nine knew these were all lies; simple fantasies that his imagination created out of his hopeless pining. But to some extent—certainly at this point—he didn’t care. They were wonderful lies, and offered a life greatly preferable to the one he was leading now. Thus in this moment, at least until he had to return to real life, he opted to discard the truth and surrender himself to a sleep of sweeter lies.