Swim-Bike-Run Ch 16 - (Bya/Ren)

[ichibanseiken]

Swim-Bike-Run - 16

Here we go again! My thanks go to Tylaske for betaing. Funny thing - I thought I had sent a clean document, cognizant of RL demands, saying "you don't have to beta...it's all good to go". In my effort to produce a clean document, I have sprinkled the past-perfect tense through the whole chapter, liberally and in a rather random fashion - producing more work for the kind Tylashke in the process :-) Someday I'll get it right!

Warnings: Angst, explicit adult content



Disclaimer: Bleach characters belong to Tite Kubo.

Swim-Bike-Run - 16

The restaurant door opened - they all turned to see who it was - and the long-awaited Juushiro Ukitake entered the long room. He stopped and squinted, waiting for his soft, brown eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. His smile beamed as soon as he spotted them, and headed over.

“Took ya long enough,” Kenpachi grumbled, well aware of his own full schedule.

“I am so very sorry - I had a customer with a bad emergency.”

“Oh?” Renji let out, solicitous.

“Yes! This nice lady came in and her hair was as red as yours, Renji, but not on purpose…we had to bleach it all out and re-dye it and it took two tries. The red was very persistent indeed…speaking of which, what happened to that beautiful haircut I gave you yesterday?”

Ukitake got up from his chair and circled behind Renji, his gentle fingers rubbing the much shorter, almost razor-cut spikes of Byakuya’s best effort.

“Who did this?” Juu asked, hurt apparent in his voice.

“I did.” Byakuya straightened up. “I apologize. It was lovely - very lovely indeed - but not practical for Renji’s active lifestyle. Did you know that he put a bicycle helmet onto your creation less than ten minutes after he left your store?”

“No!”

“Yes. When he took it off one hour later…” Byakuya’s voice trailed off, mournful.  Juushiro Ukitake shuddered and returned to his seat, deep in thought.

“Young Renji did say he wanted a look just like that.”

Kenpachi leaned back and crossed his arms behind his head, enjoying Ukitake’s distress with sadistic glee. Not many were aware that Kenpachi had, long ago, been one of his first victims.

“I did tell Renji that it would require some styling,” he mused. “Didn’t I, Renji?”

Renji Abarai met the older man’s gaze, feeling like a bad, BAD dog that got into the still-packed groceries again.

“You did say that. Yes.”

“I must have underestimated the level of difficulty…when it grows back some, we can try again. But, no matter. What’s done is done. We are here to discuss Byakuya’s disaster, not yours.”

“Byakuya’s disaster is my disaster, too,” Renji whispered sotto voce, gratified to see the older man toss his long, white tresses over his shoulder and smile.

“Legal disasters are often fixed faster than hair grows long again, I am happy to say.”

Over an hour had gone by, but to Renji, it had felt like days. His eyes kept closing as he battled boredom and sleep; every so often, the increased volume of the debate roused him from his sated stupor and he jerked his head up to regain his bearings.

Byakuya.

Kenpachi.

Juu, the hair dresser who was also a lawyer.

He would have paid attention, had he only understood what the hell they were talking about. If they were using plain English, that would have been just fine and he’d have done his damn best to follow along, but no, they had to use goofy words and phrases. Juu’s lilting voice argued over the disputed existence of a ‘bitter pill’; Kenpachi wanted to know more about the conditions for the deployment of a ‘golden parachute’, yet Byakuya’s biggest worry seemed to have been the ‘non-compete clause’.

“They shall have to negotiate,” Juushiro argued, his face animated and growing red. “There is no way they can get away with barring you from this field of business for five years unless you are properly recompensed.” He hit the table with his hand, making the glasses of water jump; then he coughed, covering his mouth with his sleeve.

“Sorry. As I said, this is highly upsetting. No CEO within this area of industry carries as heavy a burden - especially not within a family organization!” A coughing fit seized him again, and he grasped a paper napkin to cover his mouth, wheezing.

“Unacceptable.” He coughed some more, doing his best to hide the red spots on the white tissue. “Such injustice!” He leaned back in his struggle for air.

Renji noticed a heavy look pass between Byakuya and Kenpachi; Byakuya moved behind the older man and placed his hands on his shoulders.

“Uncle Juu. There is no need to get so upset on my behalf. This situation isn’t as bad as it looks. Really - I do have assets to live off and do whatever I want for the rest of my life.”

Juushiro Ukitake’s shoulders relaxed under Byakuya’s kneading fingers. He nodded, focusing on the quality of his next several breaths.

“But the injustice, Bya. It’s killing me. First your father - and I had loved Soujin like the son I never had - and now you.”

“You never found any proof of foul play after his death, uncle Juu,” Byakuya murmured, his voice like a smooth caress, and Renji had a feeling that he had much practice in uttering these words.

“I know,” Juushiro sighed, conceding the point. Then he rallied again and sallied forth. “Had your mother not been a cousin of mine, your family would have never even allowed me into this situation. Crazy people. A bunch of religious fanatics.” He began to wheeze again and cough, and Kenpachi stood and leaned on his fists across the table.

“If you start getting sick because of this, old man, I’ll get my own lawyer in here and he’ll take care of all this instead of you. We won’t have your health on our collective conscience.”

“It’s a matter of principle, Kenny. A matter of justice.” The older man’s voice was now weak, but no less emphatic for all that.

“I know.” Kenpachi looked away.

“Our next step is to get me out of the house, and have Rukia take possession of it,” Byakuya resumed the thread of conversation as though nothing untoward had occurred, his voice quiet and casual. “There are many antique items that used to belong to the ancestors of many of my family members. It is, more or less, a Kuchiki museum.”

“When?” Juu wheezed.

“As soon as Renji and I go and buy me something to wear. Can we pick you up in a few hours, or would you rather rest today?”

Ukitake smiled, his eyes closed. “If you can be brave about all this, my boy, so can I. Just…go get what you need. We can do the paperwork tomorrow.”

XDXDXD

His red head reeled as he sat next to Byakuya, ensconced in the comfortable leather of his pristine Audi. His boyfriend was looking pretty good, Renji had to concede. However…a steadily growing chasm seemed to be growing between them, borne of monied expectations. Cinnamon eyes slid toward the driver. He had looked good in everything. He knew how to dress. Renji knew how to dress, too, although he often sacrificed quality for price. Renji had never considered buying a silk-and-cotton, no-iron, two-hundred dollar shirt and he never would, despite its dove-gray background and the handsome, black and blue stripe. Renji would have never even looked at the pair of three-hundred dollar charcoal, washable wool trousers and their thin, finely crafted leather belt. And the shoes - Ecco, Mephisto, all foreign names, promising unsurpassed comfort and stylish design at a price five, ten times of what Renji would ever consider reasonable. Byakuya was wearing Renji’s weekly paycheck, and the knowledge did not fill Renji with confidence.

Ukitake had no such reservations. “You look good, Byakuya. Casual clothes become you. Before you know it you’ll be wearing jeans like Renji!”

Byakuya suppressed a snort, upon which Renji felt a wave of irritation rise within him. It was anger born of insecurity; Byakuya had been slumming, he had lowered himself to Renji’s level of thrift shop frugality, making allowances for the disquieting revelations regarding Renji’s troubled past. Soon, Byakuya would come to his senses, send his Armani suit to the cleaners, and move out to a bigger place. Renji bit his lip. They did go over this line of reasoning only yesterday, and Byakuya was rather emphatic that Renji had nothing to worry about.

Gotta be less needy. Less clingy. More independent.

Then an unlikely sentence popped up in Renji’s troubled mind - he had heard it said in Byakuya Kuchiki’s serious, erudite elocution:

“I do not give a flying fuck.”

Byakuya had said that - Renji remembered it with vivid clarity. Question was, could Renji repeat those very same words and actually mean them? Could he not care about Byakuya’s opinion and cleave to his own values and convictions? He would try. Regardless of what he wore or how much money he felt comfortable spending, these episodes of clingy insecurity just had to stop.

XDXDXD

There are times when the car just knows the way. Byakuya had discovered, to his utter surprise, that going back to the mansion - his home - felt as though he had never been there before. He now viewed the careful landscaping of the suburbs with a sense of clarity that was both sudden and disturbing. The bright-green lawns had already been chemically treated; bulbs formed drifts of color under the undulating branches of blossoming trees. The Kuchiki Mansion was in the center of it all, surrounded by a low, fieldstone wall topped with a wrought-iron fence.  The large, Victorian house boasted stained-glass windows and intricate woodwork on the outside; its bulk sprawled in the middle of a generous garden that, too, was in full bloom. Byakuya’s heart clenched at the sight. His favorite garden, with his favorite cherry trees. His favorite pond, his hand-picked koi already out of hibernation and ravenous after their winter slumber. Hisana had loved the trees; there was a smaller one right by a window that she had favored, for they had planted it together. Now, it would pass from his hands and into Rukia’s. All this - he didn’t care about the structure of the house, nor did he have a deep attachment to the objects within it - but this garden, this heaven on earth with its small, artificial waterfall and the grotto that was hidden far from sight, and the flowering plants he planted with his own two hands -

“Watch out!”

Renji’s shout tore his gaze away from the swaths of cherry blossoms and the fluttering petals that drifted on the soft, vernal breeze. He slammed the brakes, narrowly avoiding the cars parked in the street.

So many cars. The street had always been so empty. With a sense of foreboding, he pulled to the curb and turned the engine off.

“Let’s go, Renji.”

Byakuya was just about to unlock the wooden door when it swung ajar. A tall, burly policeman in a starched uniform barred his way.

“State your business, please.”

Byakuya’s expression remained as though chiseled of marble. “This is my home. I am Byakuya Kuchiki.”

“You have any ID to show me?”

“Certainly.” Byakuya reached into the pocket of his brand-new trousers and produced his driver’s license. The policeman inspected it and gave it back with a grunt.

“Alright. You seem to check out.”  He stepped aside and Byakuya sailed into the front foyer, beckoning Renji along. “He’s with me,” he nodded at the man, who nodded back.

“Why are you here? Has there been a break-in?” Byakuya Kuchiki force of personality has asserted itself, demanding an immediate answer.

“We have been called by Ms. Kuchiki. You will need to talk to her.”

Byakuya nodded his thanks and headed for the center of the house. Rukia stood there, a cop on each side of her, while she was addressing a veritable crowd of Kuchiki relatives.

“And I have already told you that none of this belongs to you. These items are my brother’s. You may talk to him, when he becomes available.”

Dissatisfied murmurs rose from the crowd once again.

“Right now, you will have to leave. You are trespassing, and these kind officers will be happy to show you the way to the front door.”

“There he is!” A lone voice identified Byakuya and the ire of his kin was, as of that moment, redirected at him.

“You have no right to be here anymore.”
“We fired you.”
“I just want my great-aunt’s furniture.”

“There is a painting that belongs to me.”

“Is this guy that faggot lover of yours?”

The last voice stilled all the others; they all looked at him with great expectations of drama in their eyes.

“Yes, this gentleman is my partner. Now, as my sister has already indicated, the rest of you will now leave.”

XDXDXD

They stood there, suspended in a bubble of still silence while the police ushered the Kuchiki family members out the door, removing various items from the hands of the bolder ones. The cacophony of protests and lamentation washed past them, unheard, as the pressure inside their bubble slowly increased. They nodded to the police sergeant as he said good-bye and closed the door on his way out.

The silence of the great old house was fragile - so fragile Renji barely dared to breathe - and they would have been standing there still, had Rukia not shattered it with an explosive wail.

“You IDIOT!” Her small body turned into the punch she aimed at Byakuya’s middle and he just stood there and took it. He fought not to double over.

“Rukia.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, eyes halfway closed in his serene non-expression.

“How could you.  How could you take Renji…” Her big eyes shimmered with periwinkle tears as she struggled for breath, and for control.

“And YOU!” Her wrath temporarily turned to the taller man and his distinct tattoos and his vermillion hair. “How could you! This is my brother you’re fucking - after you…after you dumped me like so much inconvenient garbage!” Her fist flew at Renji’s arm and, failing to connect, threw Rukia off balance, forcing her to stumble and regain her footing.

“And stop evading me!”

“Rukia…I broke up with you because I was tired of being hit.”

And henpecked, and criticized, and fixed and adjusted and civilized.

She stopped. “You never said anything.”

“I…I didn’t know how. I care for you as a friend, but…I can’t be with you.”

Byakuya cleared his throat.

“Where is Ichigo?”

“Right here.” The somber voice sounded from the kitchen. “I let myself in through the back door, with the crowd in here.” He strode up to Renji and looked him up and down.

“So you’re the ungrateful asshole who dumped my girlfriend.”

“You should be grateful to me, dumbass. Otherwise she wouldn’t be with you.”

“You’re not so hot. And you seem a bit slow. She shouldn’t have bothered.” Ichigo ran his hand through his bright, apricot-colored hair.

“And you look like you’re too scared to stand up to her,” Renji spat out, irate. “Let’s see your upper arms and see how those bruises are fading.”

“Shut up!” Rukia’s voice was as brittle as the silence had been only two minutes ago. “Just…shut up.” She turned to her brother. “And you, oh honored Nii-sama. I…I have no words for what you have done. None. It’s…unspeakable.” Her voice broke. “Everything is gone, everything we worked for. Just like that, because you chose to pick up with my asshole of an old boyfriend.” She no longer had it in her to yell and sputter; her voice was a silent whisper of despair of someone whose whole world is suddenly crumbling to pieces.

“Rukia.” Byakuya stepped to her side and, slowly, as though she were a scared and wounded animal, he draped his arm around her shoulder. Feeling her stiffen but not pull away, he drew her into a firm embrace. “I am sorry, Rukia. I had been planning to hand the company over to Ichigo only six months from now.” He sighed and, in a gesture entirely new to both of them, he kissed the top of her hair. “Even the best-laid plans can be thwarted by a detective with a camera. Our cousin Hideo, apparently, expected me to yield to his demands.”

He felt her relax in his arms the slightest bit. “Hideo?”

“Yes.”

“What detective?”

“The one he hired to discredit me.”

“Oh.” She thought for a moment. “You mean you had known?”

“Yes.”

She wiggled out of his arms and he let her leave to find a box of tissues.

Byakuya turned to Ichigo. “How is work for you these days?”

The younger man shrugged. “Got fired.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Byakuya murmured, guilt settling so heavily on his shoulders, it was almost too difficult to breathe. “Their loss. You are very competent.”

“Don’t worry, Byakuya, I’ll be alright just about anywhere,” Ichigo said, flashing his former boss a carefree smile.

“I have no doubt.” With those words, Byakuya took his leave and walked up to his suite, taking one more look around his former home before he had to choose which few things would fit into Renji’s small apartment.

XDXDXD

“So you met at the pool?” Ichigo asked, making peace with his former adversary.

Renji nodded. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” There was no need to clarify.

The redhead looked around, taking in the heavily carved chestnut paneling and the oriental rugs on the polished parquet floors.

“This house is really something,” Ichigo said. “Come along, I’ll give you a tour.”

Room after room of gleaming wood and ornate windows followed; old books resided on the library shelves, paintings both old and fairly new decorated the walls. “It really is like a Kuchiki museum. See those swords? Byakuya’s grandfather’s grandfather brought them into the country when they immigrated in the 1880’s. He was pretty old by then, I’m told. He had brought his family; then his brother and his cousin joined him with their families, and the rest is history.” Renji followed Ichigo’s show-and-tell; Rukia’s boyfriend was well-versed in the family’s story and in the antiques that had meant so much to so many.

Byakuya’s two suitcases were packed. He carried them downstairs and set them by the front door, distracted by the sound of Ichigo’s voice. Light-footed, he approached the two from the other side of the house. Guilt weighed on his shoulders even heavier, now that he had realized Ichigo’s deep appreciation for his family’s roots. Rukia appeared from somewhere, cleaned up and fresh-faced, with just a trace of lipstick and powder on her pale face.

“Nii-sama?”

“Yes, Rukia.”

“I am sorry - I’m sorry about the way I acted. It’s just, it feels like my whole world is falling apart.”

“Not the whole world, Rukia.” He lifted her chin on his finger, a hint of a melancholy smile tugging the corner of his mouth. “I want you to have this house.”

She stilled, her eyes wide. “But I could never.”

“It should stay in the family.”

“And you’re leaving the family.”  Her voice was flat as she cast her eyes down, suddenly interested in the shoes he had bought that very day.

“No. The family is rejecting me. I would never leave.”

“Not all the family is rejecting you, Nii-sama. I’m not, and Ichigo’s not, and I’m sure there are some people who don’t mind…” Her voice trailed off, unsure how she wanted to phrase the situation.

“Rukia. The lawyers are working on all this, but in the meanwhile, just…go on with your life, just as before. It will all take several weeks, if not months - then you and I can decide how to proceed regarding the house and its contents. Discuss it with Ichigo - decide what the two of you would like to keep, in case we choose to sell this old pile of bricks.”

He left her standing there, dumb-founded, as he made his way to the other two.

“I am ready.”

Renji followed him to the door. “Is that it?” He eyed the two suitcases. “Won’t you take anything else?”

“I can come back later, Renji. This is all I need for now.”

XDXDXD

Renji found little comfort in the black leather seat of Byakuya’s prized Audi this time around. The car had been pristine, despite the bicycle carrier, until today. Now Byakuya drove it in stiff, cold silence, knowing that all the passers-by could see the words of scorn scratched into its gleaming black paint and reaching the steel itself.

I am a fag.

Sodomite.

Byakuya Kuchiki is going to hell.

Outcast.

God hates you.

There were even more and more coarsely phrased gems of human venom; some were more legible than others.  He wasn’t sure which cousins or nephews decided to vent their parent’s frustration on his ride; still seething within, it took all he had to go through the familiar motions of driving. He felt so alone, even with Renji right next to him, and so adrift. After three painful, embarrassing tries he finally managed to parallel-park. Renji got out and took Byakuya’s suitcases.

“Come on,” he said, heading for the elevator. Soon he unlocked the door and shouldered it open, preceding Byakuya into the modest space.

“Welcome home,” he said, and smiled.

XDXDXD

Renji was awake immediately, hitting the alarm clock off. It wouldn’t do to wake Byakuya now; he’d been up half the night, tossing and turning and even had tried to read in the living room, hoping a boring, technical text would put him to sleep. Renji draped the sheet and the light blanket over the pale shoulders, flinching back from his impulse to stroke the smooth, ivory skin. He stole his way to the shower - one that he needed badly just to wake up - and got ready for the day. He kissed the top of Byakuya’s hair on the way out, as lightly as he could manage, and tiptoed to get his bike. Of course, he had to move Byakuya’s bike first and prop it against the side table, which made a stack of library books fall and then there wasn’t enough space for his own bike to get out to the door. He sounded like two raccoons fighting inside a garbage can.

“Renji?” The man in the doorway looked slight, almost transparent somehow. His hair hung limp down his face and his shoulders were slumped forward.

“Sorry…tight quarters. I’ll need to rig a ceiling hoist for all these bikes.”

Tired, gray eyes were underscored with dark circles as Byakuya Kuchiki looked around, then up. A ceiling hoist might work - if they wanted to rub shoulders with sharp pedals every day.

“We need a bigger place.”

Renji froze.

We.

“You think?”

Byakuya yawned and stretched his back like a cat, then straightened up to stand tall once again. “I am quite certain.”

“This place is not good enough?” Renji’s voice was careful and level as he said that.

Byakuya suppressed a yawn. He leaned against the wall, measuring the other man in silent contemplation before he spoke again. “It is very good for one person. If we want to live together, we should consider something larger, Renji.” He watched Renji navigate his bike toward the front door.

“Don’t worry about the books. I’ll pick it all up later, once I’m functional again.” He stumbled toward Renji, tilting his head up for a brief kiss.

“Go to sleep,” Renji smiled.

“No. If I sleep in, I’ll be up all night long again.”

XDXDXD

Three days had passed. Byakuya had been getting up with Renji in the morning in the hope that a day full of activity would knock him out for the night - yet sleep had eluded him and, in an effort to spare Renji his grumpy irritation, he retreated further and further into silence. Three nights had passed full of either nightmares, or wakeful replays of admonishments and recriminations. He had never felt this helpless before. In his prior dealings, he had always been in charge of the situation. There had always been a way in which he could personally affect the outcome. Not this time, though. The best he could do was making sure that he didn’t disturb Renji’s sleep.

“I have to be in absolute control of the legal processes, Byakuya,” Ukitake had told him days ago. “If you try to help, you will only stir the waters further.” He knew his uncle was right. Many a legal situation had been screwed up beyond redemption by an over-involved client who thought he knew best.

Staying low-key had become difficult. Just the fact that Ukitake had come out of retirement for it raised many eyebrows; his high-profile reputation drew the attention of the local media, which got wind of the situation and ran articles on the upper-echelon corporate shake-up at 6th Element.  The national media wasn’t far behind. Reporters called, cameras were aimed his way, questions were asked.

“No comment.” That had been his answer to all of them.

Then a picture of Byakuya and Renji on their bikes showed up in a tabloid; they wore their sleek, stretch cycling shorts and aerodynamic helmets, taking their road bikes on a spin on a quieter road out of town and back again. Byakuya Kuchiki, the former CEO of a major ice cream company, had seemed to be a fairly serious cyclist. The mention of athletics had dredged up his old swimming history and his surprising retreat from his former elite position.

Questions.

Speculations.

Scandals.

“Mr. Kuchiki, is it true that you were dismissed due to stagnating profit margins?”

“Mr. Kuchiki, rumor has it that you want to return to competitive sports.”

“Mr. Kuchiki, you have registered for a triathlon. Do you expect to win?”

This could have been great publicity - yet he didn’t dare disregard Ukitake’s advice. The loathed “No comment” had been his only reply.

Renji came home bearing two bags of groceries and a copy of yet another tabloid newspaper.

“Looks like we’re famous,” he said, tossing the paper on the table. The cover was dedicated to a lovely, black-and-white photograph of Byakuya Kuchiki, the former CEO of 6th Element, a former elite swimmer and a novice triathlete, in an intense lip-lock with a taller, broad-shouldered man. A prominent, lightning-bolt tattoo showed on the other man’s neck.

“Ice Cream King’s hot affair the real cause of a career meltdown!” The headline had said it all.

Byakuya stared at the photo for a little while. “That had been one hell of a kiss.”

“You’re not upset?” Renji’s shock was apparent.

“Of course I am. This has only been a matter of time, though.”

“How did they get the picture?” Renji asked, frustration and anger etched in his face.

“Hideo, how else. But, Renji, I do not give a flying fuck.” The words came out of his mouth with careful deliberation.

That evening, Renji pretended he didn’t see Byakuya carefully read the instructions on a packet of prescription sleeping pills. The thought of Byakuya taking pills frightened him. Thoughts of Shuuhei had invaded his mind almost immediately; his resolve not to lose Byakuya came right after.

I want him.

The thought floated up on a cloud of anxiety, emotions verbalized in their simplest form. Fear drove Renji - a fear of another devastating loss - to a staggering realization.

I want to possess him.

It had been some days; Byakuya’s screwed-up sleep cycle, together with Renji’s work schedule, didn’t allow for much intimacy.  Byakuya was in the shower now; Renji could only imagine the sleek, wet skin under his hands, under his hips. He looked down; he was hard. Yet if Byakuya was ready to try and sleep, maybe Renji could turn in a bit early and see if he could help.

His thoughts went back to the information and the videos he had studied so intently in the last few weeks. He had very little practical experience, but his engineering mind was able to learn and improvise. He fished into his backpack for the supplies he had purchased, and set them out on his night table. Having already showered after work, he shrugged out of his clothes and pulled on a bathrobe. Then he leaned back on his bed, listening to the sounds in the bathroom, waiting.

XDXDXD

Byakuya toweled off with a sigh. Another sleepless night was sure to stretch before him - unless he took the little green pill. But if he did, he’d be prone to side effects. He was intelligent enough to know that his current state of depression would not be helped by this - so what was worse, feeling utterly worthless and drained, yet avoiding the awful nights, or keeping his spirits up as best as he could even without the rest he so badly craved?

Sleep…

The little green pill, then. It was in the drawer next to Renji’s bed. He pushed the bathroom door open.

The room was not the way he had left it. The lights were turned off, replaced by two small candles. A large pitcher of ice water and two glasses sparkled in the flickering light of the small flame. His surprised eyes sought out Renji - who was observing him intently with a dark, heated gaze. Something stirred inside him. He had almost forgotten how enticing Renji’s eyes could be and he met them fully, relishing the flip of his stomach and the stirring in his loins.

“Byakuya.” The low, gravelly voice sent a shock down his spine. He stepped into the room, clad in a towel around his hips. The redhead drew close to him, sliding a large, warm hand down his back, depositing soft kisses on his shoulder. He felt the towel around his hip give with the tug of Renji’s thumb and his breathing quickened.

“Renji.” He turned in to the larger man, untying the belt of his bathrobe and sliding his hands around his hips and up his formidable back. Their bodies came together with a soft bump; he sighed at the sensation of Renji’s hard length against his jutting hip.

Renji’s hot, moist breath was right by his ear.

“I want you, Byakuya.” The statement was punctuated by the slight rocking of Renji’s hips. He froze. That was…unexpected.

“I want to make you feel so good, so amazingly wonderful, you’ll fall asleep all by yourself.” Renji’s hot mouth sucked on his neck, leaving a scandalous hickey as Byakuya’s alarm grew.

“Byakuya…” Renji’s thigh stroked his own hard length as he slipped his leg between both of his, “Byakuya, will you lie down for me? Will you let me take care of you?”

The pleasure was just too great not to respond; Byakuya felt his own hips move, seeking out friction.

“Ren…Renji…” He exhaled. “There is a problem.”

“Yes, my love?”

Byakuya felt a shiver pass through his body at Renji’s words; his eyes threatened to close and he fought for control, grasping the redhead’s shoulders, slipping his bathrobe off at the same time.

“I have never bottomed before.”

And do not intend to begin now.

“Neither have I, my love.” Renji dared say it again, since no ill effects occurred the first time around. “But I know how to make you feel very, very good. And, if you ever feel you don’t want to continue, just say so…and we will stop.”

Their gazes met, melting into one another in the dim candlelight. Byakuya hesitated.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to be by your side,” Renji whispered, fear of loss driving him on heedless of consequences. “I’ll even…I’ll even move. If that’s what you really want.”

The vulnerable expression didn’t escape Byakuya, nor the tense set of Renji’s shoulders. “And I shall stay here with you, in this little place, if that’s what you want, Renji.”

Their lips brushed; Renji’s tongue peeked and stroked the sensitive inside of Byakuya’s lip in an assertive, breath-taking kiss. They backed up to the bed and fell onto it, Renji on top of his lover’s aroused, nude body.

“I need you to turn over.” There was a plea in Renji’s voice.

“No.”

“I promise this will feel wonderful.”

“What do you intend to do?” The steel core of control peeked through Byakuya’s eyes once again, and Renji thrilled to the sight, hoping to kiss the man’s depression away.

“I want to kiss you all over…help you relax.”

“Just…that?” Elegant eyebrow arched in question.

“More - but only if you ask for it.” Renji lightened up over the long, sleek body of his lover, inviting him to move. To his delight and surprise, he did.

Byakuya had never felt quite so vulnerable before. Never had he allowed anyone else, man or woman, to take the lead before. Yet there was an intensity to Renji’s desire that made him so compelling; it spoke of care, of cherishing thoughts and of commitment. This time, for the first time ever, Byakuya felt free to stop and listen - to listen to his heart, and feel.

Large, caressing hands moved up and down his back, picking out the tight spots by his shoulder blades and stroking his ticklish sides. Then the lips descended, preceded by a hot, moist breath and followed by Renji’s playful tongue. He felt a sigh escape him as he felt his body sink further into the mattress.

So good…

“Glad you like it,” Renji murmured, his voice amused, and Byakuya realized he had vocalized his feelings without realizing it. Renji’s powerful hands were kneading the muscles of his buttocks now - he almost felt a jolt of concern - then he felt them move down to his strong hamstrings, his calves, his feet.

A moan of pleasure filled the air, together with Renji’s chuckle; then Renji’s soft, moist mouth caressed the sensitive arches of his feet, it cherished his sinewy ankles, the talented tongue tickled the back of the knees. Byakuya’s hips drove into the mattress in a frustrated thrust.

Then, butterfly kisses on the inner thighs of his relaxed legs, and that tongue again, describing the globular shape of his sculpted ass.

“Renji!”

“Hmmm…”

The tongue now moved down the crack, swiping precariously near his opening and Byakuya felt himself tense.

“Relax…” Renji whispered behind him, nestled between his thighs. “Focus on just feeling.”

An electrifying jolt of pleasure threatened to tear a yelp out of his mouth - a sound that he barely bit back, but Renji had felt his gasp and grinned, spreading the round cheeks some more. He let the tip of his tongue caress the tissue so rich in nerve endings, circling the opening and running across it, and only when he had felt Byakuya gasping for breath and clawing the sheets for control, he allowed the tip of his tongue invade the center of the pink chrysanthemum, teasing his way through the tight ring of muscle.

“Ren-Renji!” Pleasure warred with alarm. Renji was only using his mouth, as he had said he would, but in such a wanton and depraved way, Byakuya felt himself open up as his hips grinded against the sheets. He wanted it. Yet he was afraid to want it.

Control.

“Renji. Ahh…please…please stop.” The agile tongue stilled.  “Too much.”

And Renji had understood, and slithered up Byakuya’s body to embrace him and kiss his forehead.

“How did it feel, my love?”

There was that word again; Byakuya couldn’t dismiss it entirely because it made his chest warm from within. He formulated his answer with care.

“I had not realized you were this experienced a lover, Renji. It wasn’t …like anything else I have ever felt before.”

“But was it good?”

“Yes. “
“Oh, good,” Renji exhaled in apparent relief. “I have only read about it. I have never done it before either. It was…it was…”

“Gross?” Byakuya quipped.

“No…not after a shower. More like nerve-wrecking, since I didn’t know how you’d react.”

“I liked it a lot. Let me see what I can do about your pleasure, though.”

Byakuya slid his arm under Renji’s neck and pressed his groin into his hip. There was his wild redhead, all prone and sprawled and ready for him to admire.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, letting his other hand skim the heated skin, avoiding the painful arousal as he traced the dark tattoos.

“Byakuya…” Renji moaned, sliding his trapped right hand between his lover’s thighs. Byakuya trapped his hand and his leg, his eager erection sliding against the soft skin of Renji’s forearm. As Renji tried to reach for Byakuya’s long, silky hair, however, the slighter man held down his wrist and palmed his weeping cock.

“My turn,” he whispered into Renji’s ear, licking the sweat off the jagged tattoo on Renji’s neck.

Renji’s eyes just about rolled back in his head at Byakuya’s touch; he felt himself strain against the hand that bound his wrist, and found the situation curiously arousing. Then a thought had occurred to him - two could play this game. He let his trapped hand caress the milk-white thigh, rewarded by Byakuya’s gasp of pleasure. He let the knuckle of his thumb caress the sensitive perineum - his research was bearing fruit - his lover gasped and thrust against his arm some more. As he was being pleasured and close to his own release, as though by accident, he let his fingers stray to where his tongue had been only minutes ago. The grasp on his wrist tightened and he felt a bite on the juncture of his shoulder and his neck. That, together with the skilled, insistent hand on his cock, made his toes curl and his eyes roll into the back of his head as he gasped his violent release.

Byakuya was rubbing against his arm and, reckless, Renji pressed an errant finger against his opening, massaging without penetration.

Byakuya stiffened, bit his lip and spilled on a sigh of an exhale.

That.

Renji’s fingers were still there, still playing out of bounds, yet to his utter dismay, he liked it. This disturbed him and brought forth nasty words - those uttered by his former family as well as those carved into his car - and he moved his hips away, kissing Renji’s neck in gentle apology.

“How did that feel, Trouble?” He husked by Renji’s ear.

“Loved it. Loved everything.” Byakuya smiled, letting go of Renji’s wrist, but Renji had shown no indication of hurry to get out of his grasp.

“How ‘bout you, my love?”

Byakuya hesitated. “I enjoyed it…too much.”

“No such thing.” Renji reached for a handful of tissues; when they were done cleaning up, he tossed the sheet and the blanket over them, gathering Byakuya into his arms and spooning him from behind.”

“I still wanna fuck you, you know,” he said, his voice giving in to sleep.

“Mmmm.” Byakuya’s eyes were closing, his sleeping pills forgotten, his body flooded with nature’s best tranquilizer. “Sounds like trouble.”