[FIC] bleach 'the morning after'
ah, and we're still not stopping with the flooding.
here's something different, a BLEACH fic. featuring renji, byakuya, and all the awkwardness of a morning after. implied drunken smex, but only implied. lots of swearing from renji. and a smattering of awkward japanese words, ones that, if you read/watch BLEACH, you won't need any translation for. no spoilers whatsoever.
here we go.
“The Morning After”
a Bleach fan fiction by the butler
Warning: look out! yaoi, implied drunken smex (I do not know how to write, erm, sex scenes), er, Renji/Byakuya slash boyluv fluff… um, yeah. Also, Renji curses a lot. You have been warned.
Vague timeline, possibly post Soul Society arc, no spoilers.
Disclaimer: the author does not make any claim of ownership over the characters herein portrayed in poorly written fan fiction, they belong to the creative universe of Bleach, which in turn belongs to Kubo Tite (whose pen name is embarrassingly funny, if you know Tagalog that is).
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Kuchiki-taichou is going to kill him.
Abarai Renji, 6th division vice-captain and 11th squad alumni, who have faced off Rukongai thugs and yakuzas, hollows, 11th division thugs and yakuzas, traitors, captain-class shinigami, bankai and one particularly annoying orange-haired human bastard strawberry, couldn’t deny the fact that right now, at this particular moment of his non-life as a shinigami, he is positively, gut-wrenchingly afraid. Keeping his eyes in front of him, more afraid of glancing to his side and seeing who it was beside him than actually being interested in staring at his curiously stained apartment ceiling, Renji ventured out a question that he knew the answer to but still hoped against all hopes that maybe if he asked it out loud he’d be proven wrong.
“Uh… is that you… taichou?”
An eternity passed before the dry reply.
“Aa.”
Renji would’ve wept, and if he did it would’ve been the first time he ever cried over something as ironic as proving himself right, if he wasn’t so shocked at the moment.
“Shit. I mean, uh, fuck. NO! I meant, uh, dammit… augh I didn’t mean that taichou! Not really! I…”
Clothes rustled and Renji felt the futon shift as his strange bedfellow sat up to stare down at the redhead in that calm, imperious way that he has. Renji felt his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he involuntarily gulped in the face of the deceptively serene first son of the eminent house of Kuchiki.
“Abarai.”
He would not, will not; can not move his stare from the ceiling to that of his captain’s face. He just couldn’t. He knows the moment he even moves his head would be the moment he gets decapitated in more places than one.
“Abarai.”
The ceiling was really rather interesting, with that one stain curiously resembling the shape of a sakura blossom. He should remember to ask his landlord as to why his ceiling even has stains, seeing as how he doesn’t smoke or anything. Brows furrowing in concentration and reiatsu momentarily spiking as he poured his everything into ceiling-watching so he won’t have to notice his captain sigh and shift and move about and generally exist there, right there, on his futon, right beside him, on this most unholy and accursed morning.
“Renji.”
Shit. Renji sighs. Now he’s really fucked. And just like that, the redhead sits up, closes his eyes, turns his body to face his captain and bows low, eyes still closed.
“Taichou!”
And had Renji had his eyes open instead of furiously shutting them down, ineffectually willing his eyelids to forever keep that way, he would have seen his captain, his Kuchiki-taichou, the Kuchiki Byakuya himself, exhibit a tiny little smile.
“There is no need to stand at ceremony, Abarai.”
Which means, translated from Kuchiki-taichou-of-the-noble-house-speech to general Renji-from-Rukongai-drawl, what the fuck are you bowing to me for, stop that, you idiot, and just look me in the eye if you got the balls to, you bastard. Renji reluctantly straightens up and cracks his eyes open to see…
Kuchiki-taichou, hair a bit mussed and missing the white clip thingummies, clothing slightly slipping off one pale shoulder to reveal, oh dear sweet gods who do not actually exist but who Renji now wished did, if only for the mercy they might see fit to bestow on his lowly, miserable soul, his captain’s pale, slender neck covered with red, glaring, bite marks. The redhead let out an anguished groan before covering his eyes and generally spiraling off into a fit of anxious, petrified despair, looking away from his captain’s body before he could even see the trail of smaller bite marks adorning Kuchiki-taichou’s chest and, well, the rest of the way down covered by discreet clothing. Renji didn’t even want to know what that stain is on his captain’s yukata. His poor brain wouldn’t be able to handle it. Currently his brain is too busy trying to deny the implications of those fuckin’ bite marks to even start contemplating anything else.
He almost didn’t notice his captain stand up, slightly wince, and start slowly collecting his personal effects from wherever they fell to last night, during that blind, heated, hell fucking no I will not even go there. Inwardly scolding himself, Renji decided to go out of his own self-enveloping depression to look at his captain dumbly.
“Uh, taichou…”
Pausing a bit before resuming to pick up his scarf, Byakuya doesn’t even turn around to look at Renji.
“Don’t bother yourself, Abarai-fukutaichou. I can see myself out.”
Which means, translated inside Renji’s overworked head, you fucking asshole, I can see that you’re too much of a dickhead to care about anything and anyone else right now, so I’m just gonna go so I won’t catch the stupid coming from you in shitloads, in case its actually contagious.
Shaking himself to somehow get it together, Renji hurriedly stands up, stop, look down, curse, snatch at some nearby cloth and tie it around his waist, and walk over to his captain, hesitating only for a moment before reaching out to put a hand on the older shinigami’s shoulder.
“Taichou… wait. I, I mean, last night…”
A moment passes before the two men before Byakuya turns, face composed and eyebrow slightly arched in mild interest. Renji’s face, on the other hand, is an open tumult of emotions as he tried to get the damned sentences into some semblance of order in his head before he start blurting them out.
Because Abarai Renji is not the sharpest knife in the drawer, and could be a bit offensive and certainly raucous and brash and in your face, because he’s all tough on the outside and intimidating with his many lightning tattoos and menacing shikai and even more monstrous bankai, because at times he doesn’t think before he acts, nor think before he speaks, because he’s uncouth (whatever that means) and have limited vocabulary and comes from the mean streets of Rukongai and absolutely have nothing to his name save his years and years of trying so damn hard to become someone… anyway, he may be all that, but what he’s sure of is that he’s honest. And because he’s honest,
“I’m not sorry. For last night. Er, more of, uh, kinda, embarrassed… a little… um. Shit. I meant, I was drunk, and you were… um, probably drunk as I was, ‘coz, ya know, ya probably won’t have agreed to, uh, do it if you weren’t… er, damn I forgot what I’m trying to explain about, argh fuck fuck fuck I suck at this! But…”
His hold tightening on Byakuya’s shoulder, Renji looks up and stares his captain in the eye.
“I just, I mean it looks as if I took advantage of ya and all that ‘coz we were drinking an’ stuff, and that’s why I’m kinda embarrassed, and, well… I was kinda rough an’… um… if you want to get back at me for them bite marks I would gladly take the punishment. But I’m not sorry for kissing you in the first place.”
When Byakuya made no movement to show he understands at least the spirit of what the redhead was trying to say, Renji sighed and let his hand fall back to his side, moving back to give his captain some personal space and looking out the window as he scratched the back of his head. He wasn’t expecting old stoneface Kuchiki-taichou to suddenly be all smiling and jumping with hearts floating around, hell no one would want that, but he didn’t think his explanation was that stupid to not get any reaction at all.
“Listen, taichou, I…”
In the time it takes to blink, Byakuya was no longer standing there and instead was standing right beside Renji, face tilted up to allow him to plant a kiss on his flustered vice-captain’s cheek, which he did. Amazed, the tall vice-captain could only reach a hand up to his cheek and positively ogle at the smirking noble.
“You… you shunpo’d to kiss me?”
Was the incredulous question, which only got a nonchalant shrug in reply, as Byakuya went back to the business of dressing himself. Thankfully Renji was too overwhelmed to do or say anything to hinder this endeavor, and in no time the captain finished, marks of last night properly covered with clothing, pulling one fingerless glove onto his hand before glancing at the redhead (doing a fantastic imitation of a goldfish), as if only realizing the other’s presence.
“You. Shunpo’d. To kiss. Me.”
“Excellent observation, fukutaichou.”
“Aw, you’re using sarcasm on me again.”
Byakuya could not hold back the tinny tiny smile that managed to get past his calm exterior, and upon seeing it Renji’s insides did some major breakdancing moves (he would not, in any circumstance, call it a giddy feeling). Closing the distance between them, Byakuya places his (now) be-gloved hands on Renji’s waist, and gives the redhead’s lips a look that made the younger man involuntarily lick them.
“You need to work on your morning-after pillow talk.”
“Y-yeah, uh, sorry ‘bout that.”
Looking at each other, one sheepish while the other thoughtful, time seemed to slow down. Outside, the sound of countless shinigami heading to their respective squad buildings mingled with the solemn tolls of the morning bell. Renji felt a faint disappointment when Byakuya finally pulled back and started heading towards the door, rattling off instructions and back in full 6th division captain mode.
“I will be late in going to work this morning.”
“Yes, taichou.”
“You already know what to do.”
“Yes, taichou.”
“I expect the squad to be drilled before I get there.”
“Yes, taichou.”
“Oh, and Abarai-fukutaichou?”
“Yes taichou?”
One hand resting on the door while he paused before stepping through to the hall outside, Byakuya turned his head just so for Renji to see his profile as he said,
“I’m not sorry for kissing you either.”
And he continues on his way, as if he wasn’t slightly limping and as if he didn’t say that last sentence at all. Renji is sure that right now, at this particular moment of his non-life as a shinigami, he has the biggest, most foolish smile plastered on his face, eyes following the receding form of his captain and hand tugging at his makeshift clothing.
“That bastard… always has to be so cool.”
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end.