fic: spilled drinks (byayoru)
spilled drinks
Ratings: pg-13
Warnings: some sexual implications
Pairing: Byakuya/Yoruichi
Notes: For unwritten_icons ' prompt: Office shenanigans - "Would you like cream with your coffee, sir?"
--x--
Byakuya’s not feeling up to paperwork this morning. In fact, the noble is ten minutes away from tearing it to pieces (in a graceful manner, of course). But, apparently, there’s a penalty if paperwork isn’t returned in a good state. Or if it’s not returned at all-unless a proven accident occurred. And Byakuya would like to consider himself honest, so he’s not about to create a great and elaborate plan to make it look like the reports managed to fly into a fire, shredder or whatever else he can find.
A migraine begins to prick at the side of his head and the Kuchiki brings a hand to the spot to apply pressure. He had sent someone to get him coffee fifteen minutes ago. What was taking them so impossibly long? Coffee didn’t take fifteen minutes. Not in his book anyway. The next time he sees that servant, the boy is fired. This is unacceptable and-
The door slides open and Byakuya suppresses a sigh of relief. Good. Caffeine will help this situation greatly.
And then he senses a very familiar reaistu. A very unwelcome reaistu. Byakuya lifts his head slowly, already regretting acknowledging her presence, and meets Yoruichi’s gaze. That inborn smirk plays her lips, fostering annoyance in him. It’s a common reaction between them now-she’ll make the smallest, smug action and he’ll react in irritation. Nothing too rash or noteworthy but it encourages enough passion to initiate other things. Byakuya thinks she plans their meetings-that it’s not just on a whim. But then again, he would have to take blame for that too because he may have predetermined a few encounters.
His eyes blink over her form, just for a moment. Wearing the usual apparel: black, skin-tight pants, orange top and (his) red ribbon that holds up her hair, Yoruichi stands there in the doorway, so sure of herself. Byakuya notes the white cup in her hands, resting on a small tea plate. Leaning back slightly in his chair and closing his eyes, he thinks about all the work he has to do and that this incoming distraction probably won’t help any of that.
“Trying to block me out, Bya-bo?”
Upon opening his eyes, he’s almost surprised to see her in front of his desk, bending forward and close to his face. There’s a small clink as she sets the teacup down on the desk, upon the papers.
Byakuya scoffs and ignores the comment. As if he could block her out; it’s impossible to ignore her. Glancing at the teacup, he feels some irritation as he realizes that’s exactly what it is: tea. He needs coffee. Caffeine. Cream. Sugar. And dark coffee. The steam floats in the space between them, tingling his skin.
“I did not ask for tea.”
Her smirk falters just a little and he prides himself a bit until a grin creeps upon her face. Stand straight, a hand upon her hip, she says, “Is that so?”
When he doesn’t answer, the princess promptly bumps the teacup and it spills all over the desk. Light brown liquid stains the white papers, blurring words and destroying his previous work. Byakuya stares up at the grinning woman, challenging him quietly with the gleam of her eyes. All his work. Ruined.
Byakuya smirks and raises himself to meet her mouth with his. A deep chuckle rises from her throat as she nips at his lip.
“What? You have time for me now?” she says mockingly against the line of his jaw.
Instead of answering, he pulls her closer as she climbs upon the desk, upon hot tea-covered papers against dark, furnished wood. Well, maybe this could be considered an accident. It’s Yoruichi, after all. Things happen.
--
The next day, she brings coffee with thinned lips and an expectant look in her eyes. He has to do another batch of paperwork because, unfortunately, there were copies and Byakuya cursed that he didn’t get off the hook that easily.
When she sets the cup on the desk, titling her head to the side with a smirk, Byakuya makes the excuse that he doesn’t like having his coffee so black. And it’s all over the desk again.
“They’re going to run out of copies, don’t you think?”
Byakuya scoffs and kisses her lips roughly. They’ll figure out another way to find semi-good excuses in order to see each other when they have to. For now, this is working.
--x--
I know I said it was going to be super long, but I guess I lied and I'm sorry, darling. Ugh, writer's block. But whatever.