Lady-love...lust....stuff
Aww...one of my songs. Sweet.
Anyhoodle. I ventured into Yuri territory. Sorta. And Bleachy realms, another first. Somehow, I think I made a mess of things in general but I needed this out of my brain because one silly little convo in Bleach put it in there.
Curses.
Ah well. Maybe someone will like? =D
Title: Common Ground
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Kuukaku/ Yoruichi/ (other)
Rating: Pg-13?
Disclaimer: Not mine. Sadness.
AN: This is Gabe and D-chan’s fault, waking up the muses like that. Honestly *grins* There shouldn't be any spoilers in here if you know these characters sooo...
Summary: She always knew when the other woman returned.
Kuukaku always knew when the other woman returned.
It wasn’t that they were friends, really. They didn’t even get long all that well, however civil appearances could be. Too similar and too different in all the worst places, butting elbows and claws and things that went boom the minute there was an excuse. Then everyone else ran for shelter. They were tough broads, Kuukaku knew with absolute certainty, the type of steel-knuckled tough that meant they could afford to stand back until it suited their purpose.
Not that there was any fun in that.
And it wasn’t as if Soul Society was a small place, with chance encounters or passing-bys. Once upon a time their meetings rarely occurred, and then simply because one was dragged along by one grinning purpose.
Never with pleasure yet always by choice.
And then it had changed like everything else.
No, Kuukaku knew because everyone has a first stop in this world, for remembrances and regrets and cold comfort.
Sometimes it was only for half-spared minutes, other times for hours that meant little in their world. Yoruichi would wander in unannounced, sleek and tanned gold, so much darker than her own skin. Would trace a stinging path up a pale thigh, cat-licks and peppered bites in random patterns until one burn scarred hand twisted and tugged at long black hair.
Pulled up and pushed over, swords a breath away even as soft curves pressed together.
They never spoke when they fucked, just growled and cursed and demanded. Didn’t really see no matter how wide their eyes grew in hot fractioned pleasure.
Because then the scene could change like the shaded illusion it was. Hair became lighter and shorter, the hands around her, in her, larger and worn. The smooth brush of chin carrying some memory of stubble, knowing that this was as close as they could come to some reality. Two fist-and-fight women were the only ones that knew. The only ones that really bothered to remember, by choice or not. Now this was all they had, miles and years from then, neither one of them any closer to him than the other.
Willing exile and silent guilt. They were walls that even an explosion couldn’t break through.
Bruising strained kisses. The press of crescent nails. A hissed name, the same from both mouths.
When it was over it was over, back to wide smirks and careless comments. Nothing gained but nothing lost.
“How’s that old pervert doing anyway, eh?” asked around a perfect ring of smoke.
One small smile. “Hn. The same as always.”
“Never did bother to change much, the funny bastard.”
“That’s because he prefers playing with the world instead.”
“Heh.”
Nothing gained, nothing lost. Yoruichi never said anything else about him and Kuukaku didn’t ask, subject closed and out of mind until the next time quiet footsteps fell through empty halls in search of common ground.
She didn’t mind, really.
Just sat back and counted useless time.
Anyhoodle. I ventured into Yuri territory. Sorta. And Bleachy realms, another first. Somehow, I think I made a mess of things in general but I needed this out of my brain because one silly little convo in Bleach put it in there.
Curses.
Ah well. Maybe someone will like? =D
Title: Common Ground
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Kuukaku/ Yoruichi/ (other)
Rating: Pg-13?
Disclaimer: Not mine. Sadness.
AN: This is Gabe and D-chan’s fault, waking up the muses like that. Honestly *grins* There shouldn't be any spoilers in here if you know these characters sooo...
Summary: She always knew when the other woman returned.
Kuukaku always knew when the other woman returned.
It wasn’t that they were friends, really. They didn’t even get long all that well, however civil appearances could be. Too similar and too different in all the worst places, butting elbows and claws and things that went boom the minute there was an excuse. Then everyone else ran for shelter. They were tough broads, Kuukaku knew with absolute certainty, the type of steel-knuckled tough that meant they could afford to stand back until it suited their purpose.
Not that there was any fun in that.
And it wasn’t as if Soul Society was a small place, with chance encounters or passing-bys. Once upon a time their meetings rarely occurred, and then simply because one was dragged along by one grinning purpose.
Never with pleasure yet always by choice.
And then it had changed like everything else.
No, Kuukaku knew because everyone has a first stop in this world, for remembrances and regrets and cold comfort.
Sometimes it was only for half-spared minutes, other times for hours that meant little in their world. Yoruichi would wander in unannounced, sleek and tanned gold, so much darker than her own skin. Would trace a stinging path up a pale thigh, cat-licks and peppered bites in random patterns until one burn scarred hand twisted and tugged at long black hair.
Pulled up and pushed over, swords a breath away even as soft curves pressed together.
They never spoke when they fucked, just growled and cursed and demanded. Didn’t really see no matter how wide their eyes grew in hot fractioned pleasure.
Because then the scene could change like the shaded illusion it was. Hair became lighter and shorter, the hands around her, in her, larger and worn. The smooth brush of chin carrying some memory of stubble, knowing that this was as close as they could come to some reality. Two fist-and-fight women were the only ones that knew. The only ones that really bothered to remember, by choice or not. Now this was all they had, miles and years from then, neither one of them any closer to him than the other.
Willing exile and silent guilt. They were walls that even an explosion couldn’t break through.
Bruising strained kisses. The press of crescent nails. A hissed name, the same from both mouths.
When it was over it was over, back to wide smirks and careless comments. Nothing gained but nothing lost.
“How’s that old pervert doing anyway, eh?” asked around a perfect ring of smoke.
One small smile. “Hn. The same as always.”
“Never did bother to change much, the funny bastard.”
“That’s because he prefers playing with the world instead.”
“Heh.”
Nothing gained, nothing lost. Yoruichi never said anything else about him and Kuukaku didn’t ask, subject closed and out of mind until the next time quiet footsteps fell through empty halls in search of common ground.
She didn’t mind, really.
Just sat back and counted useless time.