Title: It’s Like Pigtail Pulling Only Bloodier
Universe: Bleach
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing/s: Ikkaku, Yumichika, Matsumoto, Iba (Kenpachi and Byakuya in the background)
Warnings/Spoilers: Um, slight spoilers for the Yumichika/Charlotte fight I guess. Otherwise, just the usual crack and OOC.
Word Count: 1,070
Summary: Some shinigami think about what it would take to seduce Kuchiki Byakuya. Some don’t.
Dedication: LOL these can only be for
cheloya I think. XD Whether she wants them or not.
A/N: I have felt spacey all day. I think I’m still recovering from my 3 days of work hell and clearly procrastinating on my real work. Forgive me if this doesn’t make sense? Or I’m sure it doesn’t matter.
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
“Six months,” Yumichika states with a good measure of certainty, as he, Matsumoto, Ikkaku, and Iba sit together on the low steps of the commons area in the back of the eleventh division headquarters, decidedly not working right now because it is hot and they’re lazy. In the distance, Kuchiki Byakuya waits with the occasional disapproving look in their direction, presumably here to take Yachiru out today as he sometimes promises to do, so that she’ll be quiet and stop calling him cute pet names in front of his subordinates while he’s trying to be authoritative and mysterious at work.
From what everyone could tell, Yachiru had been pretty excited about getting to go out today; as it is, Byakuya is probably still waiting the way he is only because he sent her to wash her hands before they leave or something, given that the last time any of the four non-working shinigami saw her, she’d been busy breaking in the new recruits during a little something the eleventh division likes to call Welcome to Hell Week.
In the meantime, Ikkaku ignores Kuchiki-taichou’s over-the-shoulder looks of disapprobation and scoffs back at Yumichika’s declaration, looking and feeling 95% skeptical at it. He’d be 100% skeptical about it even, except that right now he thinks he’s too busy being around 5% drunk. “Seduce a guy like that in six months? Yeah right. You’d have to tie him down first, you ask me.”
That would only take five minutes, Yumichika thinks in wry secret, if I used Ruiiro Kuujaku properly, anyway. He twitters to himself out loud at the image that conjures, and earns a disgusted look from his best friend.
“Ain’t possible, you ask me,” Iba chimes in with a definitive, knowledgeable air, and continues drinking beer like some sort of great sage. “Guys like Kuchiki-taichou just don’t get seduced. Ever. I can tell. Komamura-taichou’s the same way.”
Matsumoto can’t believe it, because in all of her years, she has never heard of a man who couldn’t get seduced. “I bet I could get Kuchiki-taichou in two months,” she counters, confidently. Then she starts to adjust her cleavage like she’s about to go over there to try and prove it right now.
Ikkaku snorts. “What, you gonna smother him with those, then tie him up and drag him back to your cave while he’s unconscious?”
The blonde’s expression lights up. “I didn’t think of that! Good one, Ikkaku!”
As it is, she may be a little bit drunk too.
Yumichika just sniffs, all condescending like. “If you think you can get him in two months, Matsumoto, then I’ll probably only need two hours, tops.”
Matsumoto frowns. “One hour!”
Yumichika is about to counter with thirty minutes, but he gets cut off abruptly instead, when a new voice from the corner blandly declares, “Five minutes,” before it is followed by the sound of another can of cold beer being cracked open.
Ikkaku chortles. “Pffft, ain’t nobody gonna get a guy like Kuchiki-taichou in just fi…”
The bald shinigami finds himself trailing off when-somewhere around the perimeter of his slightly drunken stupor- he suddenly realizes that what he’d heard just now was undoubtedly Zaraki-taichou’s very familiar, very recognizable voice.
Zaraki-taichou who is suddenly sitting right next to him on the porch, casually upending his beer in one gulp while looking thoughtful.
The third seat sputters. “T-taichou?”
Kenpachi absently crushes the can after he’s done drinking. “Yo.”
Yumichika’s eyebrow arches. “Five minutes? Forgive me if I’m skeptical, taichou.”
Kenpachi just nods, impassively. “Five minutes. Maybe less.”
“No way,” Matsumoto counters. He doesn’t even have any boobs. Or great hair, like Yumichika.
Zaraki shrugs one shoulder. “Tellin’ ya, I can get him in five minutes.”
“Bullshit,” Matsumoto insists.
“Taichou don’t bullshit,” Ikkaku snaps at her instinctively, even though he is honestly kind of grossed out at the thought of his captain and Kuchiki-taichou doing the nasty. “Taichou can do anything he says he can. He’s the greatest.”
“You’re really drunk right now, aren’t you?” Iba asks the bald death god after a beat, dark sunglasses hiding his concern for what is going on and his slight fear at the mental image he currently has involving Zaraki-taichou trying to seduce anybody.
“Five thousand yen says I can get him in five minutes,” Kenpachi repeats drolly, and plops his crushed beer can into a stupefied Ikkaku’s hand.
Matsumoto, clearly bereft of any of the concerns the boys have with the slightly disturbing mental images they are currently harboring, finds herself inexplicably drawn to the challenge. She responds by reaching down into the generous cleft of her generous cleavage, in search of her roll of spending cash. Originally it was for more beer, but this is almost as good. “Six thousand yen and you’re on, taichou!” she counter-challenges the hulking eleventh division captain.
Zaraki nods. Grins. “Alright then.”
And that thus decided, Zaraki Kenpachi stands and heads across the courtyard, right for a grumpy-faced Kuchiki Byakuya.
And it is in the moments when the distance between the two aforementioned forces is dwindling down when something occurs to the shinigami back on the porch, all of whom may or may not have had one too many beers this afternoon, in their attempts to beat the heat.
“He does know we meant seduce when we said get right?” Iba asks, after a beat. “I mean, he musta heard us.”
Across the courtyard, Kenpachi grins and says, “Hey, Kuchiki…” in an almost charming manner, leading Ikkaku and the others to believe-for a moment-that he had in fact, understood what they’d meant.
But then the greeting is followed by Kenpachi promptly pulling back his big fist and trying to punch Byakuya right in the face.
Matsumoto whistles when the resulting blasts of both defensive and offensive reiatsu from the two captains blow a crater into the courtyard and shatter the eleventh division’s back wall into a large cloud of chalky white dust. “I guess he didn’t.”
Yumichika stares. “One can’t tell yet, fukutaichou,” he warns.
Matsumoto grabs another can of beer. “Eleventh division is weird,” is all she says.
And so, in lieu of working, the four of them spend the next five minutes finishing their beer and trying to figure out whether Zaraki Kenpachi is trying to seduce or kill Kuchiki Byakuya.
Though eventually, they decide that for a guy like Kenpachi, the two might not be mutually exclusive.
END
EDITS PLZ.