Bleach- "Broken In"
Writing at work? Moi? NEVER.
Please don't tell Yoshi about this. >>
Title: Broken In
Universe: Bleach
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing/s: Ikkaku, Yumichika, Kenpachi (mentions of slight KenpachixByakuya and Yachiru).
Warnings/Spoilers: Uh, no spoilers I can imagine. Just the usual crack and OOC, really.
Word Count: 1,274
Summary: Zaraki Kenpachi has been collared.
Dedication: Uh. I don’t remember who else liked this pairing.
A/N: It has been a long, long time since I have written these characters. For me, anyway.
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
“There is no fuckin’ way, alright?! Leave it the hell alone already!”
Yumichika sighed and gave Ikkaku a long-suffering sideways look, the one the fifth seat liked to use whenever he needed to visually convey his opinion that Madarame was one of the lowliest idiots on this plane of existence and that he clearly did not deserve the guidance or companionship of someone as mentally superior (and beautiful) as Ayasegawa Yumichika. “Your enthusiasm is all very well and good, Ikkaku, but if you could pause to momentarily pull your head from your ass, perhaps you’d look at the proof I have to offer you on the matter before you jump to such unfounded conclusions?”
Ikkaku glared. “Is it just me or are you talkin’ a shitload more than usual lately?”
Yumichika rolled his eyes. “As I was saying. I think taichou and Kuchiki-taichou are…”
Ikkaku clamped his hands over his ears stubbornly. “I can’t hear you!”
Yumichika-unfazed- promptly grabbed one of the other shinigami’s wrists and twisted sharply, just enough to pull his friend’s hand from his head. “As I was saying,” he began again, calmly, “they’re clearly…”
“LALALA,” Ikkaku shouted before he could finish, and wrenched his wrist out of Yumichika’s hold. “NOT TRUE.”
The pretty shinigami sniffed. “How very juvenile of you.”
“You started it.”
Yumichika crossed his arms. “I’m going to prove it to you.”
Madarame sneered back, leaning down so they were eye-to-eye. “Well I ain’t listening.”
Yumichika wrinkled his nose.
And then, the shorter shinigami responded to his friend’s childishness with the most suitable method he could imagine: by reaching out and grabbing him by the ear. “This way,” he declared, and pinched at the very instant that he pulled.
Ikkaku yelped in outraged indignation at his unjust treatment, but was, for the large part, ignored. As such, he was forced down the hallway against his will, the powerful eleventh division shinigami held at bay by the fifth seat’s iron grip.
“Leggo a me, fucker! God I’m gonna kick your ass later!”
“Yes, yes,” Yumichika murmured, and kept walking in the direction of Kenpachi’s office. He released the third seat easily enough once they arrived at their destination, and wiped his hand off on Madarame’s uniform distastefully. “And now, proof,” he declared, with an air of grim finality.
Yumichika didn’t even bother to knock before breezing into the office like he owned it, leaving Ikkaku to stare after him from the hallway. Madarame rubbed at his abused ear sourly. “Bastard.”
Kenpachi only grunted in mild-annoyance when the door opened to reveal Ayasegawa, the large eleventh division captain pausing momentarily from his paperwork upon seeing the fifth seat. “The hell do you want?” he said, looking at Yumichika distrustfully. He found that he was looking distrustfully at guys-who-were-too-pretty-to-really-be-guys a lot more than usual lately.
Yumichika just smiled, small and sly. “Taichou,” he began sweetly, “you’ve looked so lonely lately.”
“Not interested,” Zaraki grunted without waiting for Yumichika to finish. “’Sides, I don’t think Hisagi would…”
Ayasegawa blatantly ignored his captain’s clearly misguided assumptions. In fact, he kept talking right through them like they hadn’t even existed at all (he was magnanimous like that). “And so I’ve decided to set you up on a date tonight, taichou. There is a lovely young lady who waits tables at the izakaya Shuuhei and I frequent and I think the two of you would…”
“Not interested,” Zaraki repeated, twitching.
Ikkaku couldn’t help it when he stared a little.
Yumichika however, was completely unruffled at the dismissal, and just put his right hand on his hip while he paused momentarily to examine the (perfectly manicured) nails on his left one. “Taichou,” he began again after a breath, seductively, “she has breasts the size of Ikkaku’s large, bald head and I do believe I saw her break a man’s legs one-handed in the last bar fight I started. With gusto, at that.”
Kenpachi paused when he heard that last part, interest momentarily piqued. “Ya don’t say?”
Ayasegawa tossed his hair, professionally. “I do.”
The large captain seemed to consider the offer for a moment, but before long his face darkened into a scowl as some other thought (apparently less appealing) suddenly hit him. “Can’t,” he said again, and as soon as he did, the notion of pretty-waitress-who-beats-shit-up was forgotten.
Yumichika pouted. “You can’t? Why?”
Zaraki made a particularly bitter face at that question, and it was one of the most non-threatening expressions Ikkaku had ever seen from his captain ever. “Gotta take Yachiru to the doctor’s later, ‘s why.”
Yumichika blinked overdramatically when he heard the reason, feigning surprise. “The doctor? Why ever for? Is she not feeling well?”
Zaraki’s expression darkened further at the seemingly innocent inquiry. “No. It’s ‘cuz fuckin’… Kuchiki-hime’s makin’ me go with the two of them. Bastard says kids need an annual check-up or some such shit, and that I gotta be there to hold her fuckin’ hand through the whole damned thing, like she can’t take her own fool self to the doc’s after all the times she’s already been there.”
Yumichika nodded understandingly, playing the part of the sympathetic ear perfectly. “I see.”
“Goddamned fuckin’ pretty-boy bastard,” Zaraki growled, without any further prompting. “Don’t make no sense. She ain’t bleedin’. Ain’t got nothin’ broken. The hell does she need to go to the doctor for?”
“Mmm,” Yumichika responded, vaguely.
Through the crack in the doorway, Ikkaku blinked.
“So, when is this little appointment?” Ayasegawa asked after a moment, all innocence.
Zaraki slouched into his seat, and it was almost like he was sulking. “Five. He’s comin’ to get us at four-thirty.”
“Ah, I see. Well, that’s too bad then,” Yumichika agreed, and paused to take a look around the office. “Though I suggest that if he’s coming to get you here you might try to clean up your office a little beforehand, taichou.”
Kenpachi glared. “Just who the hell do you think you are, asshole?”
Yumichika looked on calmly. “Just a simple suggestion, taichou. I mean, considering what happened the last time he entered the premises and found them in such a state…”
Zaraki’s aura flared angrily at the memory. “Like hell. This time I’m really gonna kick that fairy-ass of his if he prances in here’n tries something like that again,” the eleventh division captain vowed darkly, though-unbelievably- he started straightening the papers on his desk anyway, on instinct. “Tch. Telling me to clean my own goddamned office up. Fuck that.”
Yumichika watched him, all smiles.
Kenpachi paused. Eyed him. Then, “The hell are you smirking about, bastard?”
Ayasegawa preened. “Nothing, taichou!” he fluttered, before turning on his heel and leaving the room. “Have a nice time at the doctor’s.”
“Fuck you,” Zaraki called out after him, but kept on cleaning his desk anyway.
In the hallway Ikkaku glared hard as a triumphant Yumichika emerged from Zaraki’s office, the fifth seat looking as smug as Madarame had ever seen him.
“See?” Yumichika purred, and brushed past his friend with a self-satisfied twitter.
“I hate you so much,” Ikkaku snarled, before spinning around and storming down the hall in the opposite direction.
He needed some time alone to reconcile the contrasting images of the fearless warrior he’d sworn to serve under for the rest of his life and the guy who was being forced to take his wife and kid to the doctor’s for baby’s first check-up later today.
And by reconcile, he meant getting a huge bottle of cheap booze and beating some shit up (or in this case, lots of shit up).
Ikkaku hoped Yumichika was happy.
Though knowing him, he probably was.
Bastard.
END
EDITS PLZ.
Please don't tell Yoshi about this. >>
Title: Broken In
Universe: Bleach
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing/s: Ikkaku, Yumichika, Kenpachi (mentions of slight KenpachixByakuya and Yachiru).
Warnings/Spoilers: Uh, no spoilers I can imagine. Just the usual crack and OOC, really.
Word Count: 1,274
Summary: Zaraki Kenpachi has been collared.
Dedication: Uh. I don’t remember who else liked this pairing.
A/N: It has been a long, long time since I have written these characters. For me, anyway.
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
“There is no fuckin’ way, alright?! Leave it the hell alone already!”
Yumichika sighed and gave Ikkaku a long-suffering sideways look, the one the fifth seat liked to use whenever he needed to visually convey his opinion that Madarame was one of the lowliest idiots on this plane of existence and that he clearly did not deserve the guidance or companionship of someone as mentally superior (and beautiful) as Ayasegawa Yumichika. “Your enthusiasm is all very well and good, Ikkaku, but if you could pause to momentarily pull your head from your ass, perhaps you’d look at the proof I have to offer you on the matter before you jump to such unfounded conclusions?”
Ikkaku glared. “Is it just me or are you talkin’ a shitload more than usual lately?”
Yumichika rolled his eyes. “As I was saying. I think taichou and Kuchiki-taichou are…”
Ikkaku clamped his hands over his ears stubbornly. “I can’t hear you!”
Yumichika-unfazed- promptly grabbed one of the other shinigami’s wrists and twisted sharply, just enough to pull his friend’s hand from his head. “As I was saying,” he began again, calmly, “they’re clearly…”
“LALALA,” Ikkaku shouted before he could finish, and wrenched his wrist out of Yumichika’s hold. “NOT TRUE.”
The pretty shinigami sniffed. “How very juvenile of you.”
“You started it.”
Yumichika crossed his arms. “I’m going to prove it to you.”
Madarame sneered back, leaning down so they were eye-to-eye. “Well I ain’t listening.”
Yumichika wrinkled his nose.
And then, the shorter shinigami responded to his friend’s childishness with the most suitable method he could imagine: by reaching out and grabbing him by the ear. “This way,” he declared, and pinched at the very instant that he pulled.
Ikkaku yelped in outraged indignation at his unjust treatment, but was, for the large part, ignored. As such, he was forced down the hallway against his will, the powerful eleventh division shinigami held at bay by the fifth seat’s iron grip.
“Leggo a me, fucker! God I’m gonna kick your ass later!”
“Yes, yes,” Yumichika murmured, and kept walking in the direction of Kenpachi’s office. He released the third seat easily enough once they arrived at their destination, and wiped his hand off on Madarame’s uniform distastefully. “And now, proof,” he declared, with an air of grim finality.
Yumichika didn’t even bother to knock before breezing into the office like he owned it, leaving Ikkaku to stare after him from the hallway. Madarame rubbed at his abused ear sourly. “Bastard.”
Kenpachi only grunted in mild-annoyance when the door opened to reveal Ayasegawa, the large eleventh division captain pausing momentarily from his paperwork upon seeing the fifth seat. “The hell do you want?” he said, looking at Yumichika distrustfully. He found that he was looking distrustfully at guys-who-were-too-pretty-to-really-be-guys a lot more than usual lately.
Yumichika just smiled, small and sly. “Taichou,” he began sweetly, “you’ve looked so lonely lately.”
“Not interested,” Zaraki grunted without waiting for Yumichika to finish. “’Sides, I don’t think Hisagi would…”
Ayasegawa blatantly ignored his captain’s clearly misguided assumptions. In fact, he kept talking right through them like they hadn’t even existed at all (he was magnanimous like that). “And so I’ve decided to set you up on a date tonight, taichou. There is a lovely young lady who waits tables at the izakaya Shuuhei and I frequent and I think the two of you would…”
“Not interested,” Zaraki repeated, twitching.
Ikkaku couldn’t help it when he stared a little.
Yumichika however, was completely unruffled at the dismissal, and just put his right hand on his hip while he paused momentarily to examine the (perfectly manicured) nails on his left one. “Taichou,” he began again after a breath, seductively, “she has breasts the size of Ikkaku’s large, bald head and I do believe I saw her break a man’s legs one-handed in the last bar fight I started. With gusto, at that.”
Kenpachi paused when he heard that last part, interest momentarily piqued. “Ya don’t say?”
Ayasegawa tossed his hair, professionally. “I do.”
The large captain seemed to consider the offer for a moment, but before long his face darkened into a scowl as some other thought (apparently less appealing) suddenly hit him. “Can’t,” he said again, and as soon as he did, the notion of pretty-waitress-who-beats-shit-up was forgotten.
Yumichika pouted. “You can’t? Why?”
Zaraki made a particularly bitter face at that question, and it was one of the most non-threatening expressions Ikkaku had ever seen from his captain ever. “Gotta take Yachiru to the doctor’s later, ‘s why.”
Yumichika blinked overdramatically when he heard the reason, feigning surprise. “The doctor? Why ever for? Is she not feeling well?”
Zaraki’s expression darkened further at the seemingly innocent inquiry. “No. It’s ‘cuz fuckin’… Kuchiki-hime’s makin’ me go with the two of them. Bastard says kids need an annual check-up or some such shit, and that I gotta be there to hold her fuckin’ hand through the whole damned thing, like she can’t take her own fool self to the doc’s after all the times she’s already been there.”
Yumichika nodded understandingly, playing the part of the sympathetic ear perfectly. “I see.”
“Goddamned fuckin’ pretty-boy bastard,” Zaraki growled, without any further prompting. “Don’t make no sense. She ain’t bleedin’. Ain’t got nothin’ broken. The hell does she need to go to the doctor for?”
“Mmm,” Yumichika responded, vaguely.
Through the crack in the doorway, Ikkaku blinked.
“So, when is this little appointment?” Ayasegawa asked after a moment, all innocence.
Zaraki slouched into his seat, and it was almost like he was sulking. “Five. He’s comin’ to get us at four-thirty.”
“Ah, I see. Well, that’s too bad then,” Yumichika agreed, and paused to take a look around the office. “Though I suggest that if he’s coming to get you here you might try to clean up your office a little beforehand, taichou.”
Kenpachi glared. “Just who the hell do you think you are, asshole?”
Yumichika looked on calmly. “Just a simple suggestion, taichou. I mean, considering what happened the last time he entered the premises and found them in such a state…”
Zaraki’s aura flared angrily at the memory. “Like hell. This time I’m really gonna kick that fairy-ass of his if he prances in here’n tries something like that again,” the eleventh division captain vowed darkly, though-unbelievably- he started straightening the papers on his desk anyway, on instinct. “Tch. Telling me to clean my own goddamned office up. Fuck that.”
Yumichika watched him, all smiles.
Kenpachi paused. Eyed him. Then, “The hell are you smirking about, bastard?”
Ayasegawa preened. “Nothing, taichou!” he fluttered, before turning on his heel and leaving the room. “Have a nice time at the doctor’s.”
“Fuck you,” Zaraki called out after him, but kept on cleaning his desk anyway.
In the hallway Ikkaku glared hard as a triumphant Yumichika emerged from Zaraki’s office, the fifth seat looking as smug as Madarame had ever seen him.
“See?” Yumichika purred, and brushed past his friend with a self-satisfied twitter.
“I hate you so much,” Ikkaku snarled, before spinning around and storming down the hall in the opposite direction.
He needed some time alone to reconcile the contrasting images of the fearless warrior he’d sworn to serve under for the rest of his life and the guy who was being forced to take his wife and kid to the doctor’s for baby’s first check-up later today.
And by reconcile, he meant getting a huge bottle of cheap booze and beating some shit up (or in this case, lots of shit up).
Ikkaku hoped Yumichika was happy.
Though knowing him, he probably was.
Bastard.
END
EDITS PLZ.