The Mechanics of Clothing {Kenpachi/Jushiro}
Title: The Mechanics of Clothing
Characters/Pairings: Kenpachi/Jushiro, Yachiru
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 2,455
Warning: Slash smut
Summary: Kenpachi and Jushiro have a quick respite from the hustle and bustle of work.
A/N: Actually wanted to include some oral, but I'm just too sleepy to pull it off. Maybe next time. Written for prompt #37: tree of otp_100.
"Too slow, Ukitake!"
Jushiro leaped out of the way just as Kenpachi's blade came slicing down at him. It crashed to the ground with a thunderous clang, but Kenpachi was fast, dragging it across the earth to swing it up at him. He raised his own zanpakuto in time, blocking the vicious attack that sent vibrations throughout his whole body, swallowing a cough that threatened to burst out. In that split second wherein distraction caught up with him, Kenpachi pressed down on him with his weight, face coming so close to his that he could feel the man's hot breath on his face, see that wide, bloodthirsty grin that he had come to love and hate at the same time.
"What, backin' out already eh, old man?" Kenpachi sneered as Jushiro let slip a cough and glared up at him. He summoned up his strength, focusing on his zanpakuto while trying to prevent from being squashed by Kenpachi. After taking a quick breath to calm his mind, he twisted to the side and out of the way of Kenpachi's blade, giving him an elbow in the back that sent him stumbling forwards a few feet.
"This ain't no fun, Ukitake!" Kenpachi hissed, irritation taking over him as he whirled around and clashed blades with Jushiro once more. "It ain't called fightin' if ye keep dodgin' like a fuckin' coward! Ye got a fuckin' sword - use it!"
But Jushiro twisted around once again, using that age-old technique to cause an opponent to stumble and look very much like an idiot. Being made a fool was at the very bottom of Kenpachi's list, and he, always with the urge to cut something up, charged at Jushiro and swung his blade down on him.
The man was ceaseless, and each clash they experienced brought about heavy vibrations that struck deep within Jushiro. It wasn't like he didn't want to attack, he just couldn't. Not with Kenpachi's incessant attacks, and his snide remarks weren't of much help either.
After the fiftieth or so clash which reverberated through his eardrum with a near-deafening sound, Jushiro felt the need to cough up a storm rise through his throat. Irritation settled in, fast as lightning, and he opened his mouth to tell Kenpachi to stop, but choked on his own words. He had been taking backward steps all along, to avoid falling from the intensity of Kenpachi's attacks, and now his heel hit the trunk of a giant oak tree. He heard a snigger, most likely coming from a rather satisfied Kenpachi, and he knew that he had to get away.
The first thing that came to mind was to twist away, like he so often did, and Jushiro used the tree trunk as a guide to roll his body around to the other side. As soon as he came to a halt, he raised a sleeved forearm to his mouth and hacked into it, his free hand clutching the trunk for support. He heard a faint whistling sound, signalling the lightning-fast swing of a blade. The strength leaving him, he was only capable of squeezing his eyes shut. A blinding white light flashed inside his eyelids, but the hit didn't come, and he was left to cough into his sleeve. When he was done, slight tremors of the aftermath running through his body, he slowly raised his head.
Kenpachi was leaning against the trunk, zanpakuto back in its sheath, watching him with something akin to concern in his single uncovered eye. Seeing that Jushiro was all right, he barked out a laugh and reached out to brush his knuckles against his cheek.
"Sorry." Jushiro forced a smile, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as Kenpachi fondly ruffled his hair. Even though he was the violent, bloodthirsty beast of the Seireitei, he had grown accustomed to the sudden illness ambushes that plagued Jushiro. He had started out pissed during their first few sparring sessions, which often ended with Jushiro having to take a rest and a hot cup of tea to ease his throat, but eventually he began to empathise with him. That was what being partners were for after all, and Kenpachi, being the healthier, more vigorous of the two, naturally took it upon himself to care for the man.
"Guess ye jus' can't help it, eh?" Kenpachi grinned and bent down to steal a kiss from him. "No blood this time, so ye should be all right. Up for another round?"
Jushiro hummed in thought, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer, and deepened the kiss. Though puzzled and caught off guard, Kenpachi responded eagerly, tongue slipping into Jushiro's mouth and exploring him, entangling with his own. As Jushiro's fingers kneaded the back of his head, in the way he always did whenever he wanted the man to relax, Kenpachi let slip a chuckle and pinned him to the trunk.
"Wasn't what I had in mind." He sneered, but Jushiro knew all too well that one of the ways to arouse Kenpachi was to give him a good fight. It was like a precursor to what lay beyond the battlefield, preparing one for that which needed not only physical, but mental and spiritual exertion as well. In many ways than one, a bloody battle was mere child's play to what lay beyond its boundaries.
Jushiro himself, during and even before this sparring session, had been trying to force some rather perverse thoughts of his lover from his mind. It wasn't like him to fantasize, to conjure up such salacious musings. What drove him to that point was mainly his own stupidity for picking up one of Shunsui's adult novels that had been lying around his office.
He'd yell at Shunsui later, but now, with Kenpachi this close, he could only reach out his hand and trail his fingers down the man's chest, down his abdomen. A shiver ran through him as Kenpachi let out a growl, his fingers tugging gently at the man's obi.
And before Jushiro could even register it, Kenpachi was kissing him, wrenching his mouth open with his rough hand and plunging his tongue in. He bit down on Jushiro's bottom lip, but not hard enough to draw blood, and Jushiro responded hungrily while his hands worked his obi.
It was difficult for Jushiro to concentrate on disrobing him, what with Kenpachi's demanding nature and his rough ways, but all that only added to the desire that burned within him. He mentally cursed Shunsui's perverse taste for novels once again. Despite how much he had told himself, ordered himself not to be involved with such a thing, he still managed to give way for his mind to be polluted.
"Damn this…" Jushiro growled softly into Kenpachi's mouth, annoyed at how he couldn't see what he was doing with the obi when he had his head raised.
"The hell's wrong with ye?" Kenpachi laughed at his attempts to disrobe him, and, after ripping away Jushiro's obi and fundoshi with one swift motion, dove his hand into the other's hakama. Jushiro let out a groan as he felt Kenpachi stroking him, and pulled him down for another fierce kiss. But Kenpachi went straight for his neck, nibbling at his collar bone and nipping at his throat. He let his head roll back against the tree trunk, hands clutching the larger man's sleeves, holding onto him as he rode on the waves of pleasure.
Jushiro turned his head to the side to give Kenpachi added access to his skin, but immediately turned his face away when the sunlight nearly blinded him. It flashed through little cracks between the leaves, casting bright patches on their clothes, their bodies.
"Oh, for goodness' sake," Jushiro managed, holding himself back from jerking into Kenpachi's hand, "move in a little." With that, he guided him further under the shade and out of the burning sun.
"Can't take the heat, old man?" Kenpachi smirked, giving his length a little squeeze, laughing when Jushiro emitted a surprised gasp and glared at him. "Fussy old pansy, that's what ye are."
"I don't remember you having any say in this, Zaraki." Jushiro finally dislodged his troublesome obi and tossed it away like a rag doll, his hand now creeping under his hakama to tease his growing arousal.
"Remind me again who ain't got the brains t'loosen a damned obi." Kenpachi captured his lips once more, growling as he felt Jushiro's fingers wrap themselves around him. His own stroking increased in speed, and he took the time to squeeze the head of Jushiro's length, receiving a moan that vibrated in his mouth.
Jushiro could feel his knees weakening under the pressure, the overwhelming pleasure that seized him and drowned him in the wildest of tempests. His breathing quickened; he thrust his hips upwards, pleading silently for more, his hands trailing up Kenpachi's body to wrap themselves around the back of his neck, to pull him closer. He squeezed his eyes shut as his vision burst with white light, a groan leaving him as he rode out his release. Kenpachi wrapped his free arm around him before he buckled, and when Jushiro was done, he withdrew his hand and wiped away the warm, sticky liquid on the tree trunk.
Kenpachi grinned at the flushed look on his lover's face, bending down to leave a steamy kiss on his lips. "Satisfied?"
Jushiro couldn't say that he wasn't. A quick release was what they could manage at this point, being in the open and all, with the high risk of getting caught. Being discovered by Ikkaku or Yumichika wasn't very much appealing, what with the pretty-boy and his big mouth, but that was still fair game. Yachiru, on the other hand, was not, and he would be damned if she ever found them together like this.
But still, Jushiro couldn't help but give into his own inner desires. Having Kenpachi this close, his familiar weight pressed up against him, his wondrous smell of grass and dirt brushing against and making its mark on him, was something Jushiro very much looked forward to. He'd be even more damned if he were to let this chance pass him by. Indeed, he was guaranteed even more sessions later on, but the man was never prone to wasting.
Kenpachi was caught by surprise when Jushiro reversed their positions in one swift motion, and in the blink of an eye he found himself pinned to the trunk, with his smug fellow captain trapping him down instead. A slow grin etched its way up his face as he took Jushiro's chin in a hand, amused at the hunger burning within those beautiful green eyes of his.
And then Jushiro was on him, kissing and nipping and biting at his throat. His hands wondered all over his body, creeping inside his shihakusho and kneading his taut muscles. Fingers traced the many scars littering his back, outlining his shoulder blades, while tongue licked at beads of perspiration. Kenpachi let out a growl when Jushiro slipped a hand inside his fundoshi and grabbed him. His caresses were slow, gentle, and Kenpachi jerked his hips forward and hissed for more.
"Pansy," he growled against Jushiro's lips, swearing when he only received an amused smile in return. Jushiro continued to give him slow, agonizingly slow strokes, working his mouth against his in hot kisses that sent jolts of electricity throughout both their systems.
"Patience," he whispered, free hand slipping off Kenpachi's uniform. He trailed his tongue along his collarbone, coming to a halt on his bare shoulder where he proceeded to suck and bite. All the while his hand worked Kenpachi, finger trailing from base to head and squeezing lightly. He could practically feel Kenpachi's irritation at him, but he couldn't really blame Jushiro for being such a tease. He liked it anyway, but he wasn't going to start admitting to avoid Jushiro from having such a high opinion of himself.
Kenpachi couldn't help but laugh at the thought, but his mirth was cut off by a groan when he felt Jushiro tighten his grip around him. Teeth grazed his shoulder, hand squeezed him, and he felt like he was toppling over the edge to drown in a sea of pleasure, of passion and lust. He let his eyelids drift to a close, head rolling back against the trunk as a grin stretched his lips. Jushiro's warm, wet tongue flicked a nipple; he laughed, and Jushiro proceeded to suck on it.
Rock-hard, desperate for release, Kenpachi thrust his hips forward into Jushiro's hand. He was climbing ever higher to his peak. Just a few more strokes, and he'd be there. A quick release and he'd be done. Just one more-
"Ken-chaaan!"
"Fuck shit," and Kenpachi jerked out of his trance as Jushiro quickly retracted his hand. Without even a word to each other, with the sole thought of that little pink bob in mind, both of them fumbled with their clothes and tidied themselves and, in mere seconds, Yachiru appeared and latched herself onto Kenpachi's shoulder.
"How was the fight? Who won? I bet Ken-chan won again!" she blabbered, mostly ignoring Jushiro, which was just as well since he was still tying his obi in place. "Ken-chan always wins!"
"Why's that, runt?" Kenpachi cast a glance over at Jushiro, trying to distract Yachiru before she noticed what he was doing.
"Because Ukki's always sick. Ken-chan should know that!" She knocked him on the head with her little fist, and then turned and flashed a bright smile over at Jushiro who, fortunately, was done with his rather troublesome obi. "Let's go have somethin' to eat, Ukki! It's Ken-chan's turn to treat ya, remember, Ken-chan?"
Kenpachi snorted, gave a nod to Jushiro, and turned on his heel to head back to the barracks. "Fuck this heat, I need a damned drink. Like it or not, ye're comin' with us, Ukitake."
"It's just as well." Jushiro smiled, taking long strides to catch up with the man's fast paces, which proved to be a little difficult given his slightly numb legs. "I need a cup of tea myself."
Yachiru settled herself on Kenpachi's shoulders, tiny fists grabbing his spikes to use as reins to steer him forward, but her eyes were still trained on the tree behind them.
"Ne, Ken-chan?" She tapped him on the forehead, and Jushiro couldn't help but laugh when Kenpachi swiped her hand away with a growl.
"What, brat?"
And when Yachiru pointed at the tree, or more specifically, at the piece of cloth draped over its roots, Kenpachi burst out with a guffaw at Jushiro's wide eyes and the blush that dominated his face.
"Whose fundoshi is that?"
Characters/Pairings: Kenpachi/Jushiro, Yachiru
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 2,455
Warning: Slash smut
Summary: Kenpachi and Jushiro have a quick respite from the hustle and bustle of work.
A/N: Actually wanted to include some oral, but I'm just too sleepy to pull it off. Maybe next time. Written for prompt #37: tree of otp_100.
"Too slow, Ukitake!"
Jushiro leaped out of the way just as Kenpachi's blade came slicing down at him. It crashed to the ground with a thunderous clang, but Kenpachi was fast, dragging it across the earth to swing it up at him. He raised his own zanpakuto in time, blocking the vicious attack that sent vibrations throughout his whole body, swallowing a cough that threatened to burst out. In that split second wherein distraction caught up with him, Kenpachi pressed down on him with his weight, face coming so close to his that he could feel the man's hot breath on his face, see that wide, bloodthirsty grin that he had come to love and hate at the same time.
"What, backin' out already eh, old man?" Kenpachi sneered as Jushiro let slip a cough and glared up at him. He summoned up his strength, focusing on his zanpakuto while trying to prevent from being squashed by Kenpachi. After taking a quick breath to calm his mind, he twisted to the side and out of the way of Kenpachi's blade, giving him an elbow in the back that sent him stumbling forwards a few feet.
"This ain't no fun, Ukitake!" Kenpachi hissed, irritation taking over him as he whirled around and clashed blades with Jushiro once more. "It ain't called fightin' if ye keep dodgin' like a fuckin' coward! Ye got a fuckin' sword - use it!"
But Jushiro twisted around once again, using that age-old technique to cause an opponent to stumble and look very much like an idiot. Being made a fool was at the very bottom of Kenpachi's list, and he, always with the urge to cut something up, charged at Jushiro and swung his blade down on him.
The man was ceaseless, and each clash they experienced brought about heavy vibrations that struck deep within Jushiro. It wasn't like he didn't want to attack, he just couldn't. Not with Kenpachi's incessant attacks, and his snide remarks weren't of much help either.
After the fiftieth or so clash which reverberated through his eardrum with a near-deafening sound, Jushiro felt the need to cough up a storm rise through his throat. Irritation settled in, fast as lightning, and he opened his mouth to tell Kenpachi to stop, but choked on his own words. He had been taking backward steps all along, to avoid falling from the intensity of Kenpachi's attacks, and now his heel hit the trunk of a giant oak tree. He heard a snigger, most likely coming from a rather satisfied Kenpachi, and he knew that he had to get away.
The first thing that came to mind was to twist away, like he so often did, and Jushiro used the tree trunk as a guide to roll his body around to the other side. As soon as he came to a halt, he raised a sleeved forearm to his mouth and hacked into it, his free hand clutching the trunk for support. He heard a faint whistling sound, signalling the lightning-fast swing of a blade. The strength leaving him, he was only capable of squeezing his eyes shut. A blinding white light flashed inside his eyelids, but the hit didn't come, and he was left to cough into his sleeve. When he was done, slight tremors of the aftermath running through his body, he slowly raised his head.
Kenpachi was leaning against the trunk, zanpakuto back in its sheath, watching him with something akin to concern in his single uncovered eye. Seeing that Jushiro was all right, he barked out a laugh and reached out to brush his knuckles against his cheek.
"Sorry." Jushiro forced a smile, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as Kenpachi fondly ruffled his hair. Even though he was the violent, bloodthirsty beast of the Seireitei, he had grown accustomed to the sudden illness ambushes that plagued Jushiro. He had started out pissed during their first few sparring sessions, which often ended with Jushiro having to take a rest and a hot cup of tea to ease his throat, but eventually he began to empathise with him. That was what being partners were for after all, and Kenpachi, being the healthier, more vigorous of the two, naturally took it upon himself to care for the man.
"Guess ye jus' can't help it, eh?" Kenpachi grinned and bent down to steal a kiss from him. "No blood this time, so ye should be all right. Up for another round?"
Jushiro hummed in thought, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer, and deepened the kiss. Though puzzled and caught off guard, Kenpachi responded eagerly, tongue slipping into Jushiro's mouth and exploring him, entangling with his own. As Jushiro's fingers kneaded the back of his head, in the way he always did whenever he wanted the man to relax, Kenpachi let slip a chuckle and pinned him to the trunk.
"Wasn't what I had in mind." He sneered, but Jushiro knew all too well that one of the ways to arouse Kenpachi was to give him a good fight. It was like a precursor to what lay beyond the battlefield, preparing one for that which needed not only physical, but mental and spiritual exertion as well. In many ways than one, a bloody battle was mere child's play to what lay beyond its boundaries.
Jushiro himself, during and even before this sparring session, had been trying to force some rather perverse thoughts of his lover from his mind. It wasn't like him to fantasize, to conjure up such salacious musings. What drove him to that point was mainly his own stupidity for picking up one of Shunsui's adult novels that had been lying around his office.
He'd yell at Shunsui later, but now, with Kenpachi this close, he could only reach out his hand and trail his fingers down the man's chest, down his abdomen. A shiver ran through him as Kenpachi let out a growl, his fingers tugging gently at the man's obi.
And before Jushiro could even register it, Kenpachi was kissing him, wrenching his mouth open with his rough hand and plunging his tongue in. He bit down on Jushiro's bottom lip, but not hard enough to draw blood, and Jushiro responded hungrily while his hands worked his obi.
It was difficult for Jushiro to concentrate on disrobing him, what with Kenpachi's demanding nature and his rough ways, but all that only added to the desire that burned within him. He mentally cursed Shunsui's perverse taste for novels once again. Despite how much he had told himself, ordered himself not to be involved with such a thing, he still managed to give way for his mind to be polluted.
"Damn this…" Jushiro growled softly into Kenpachi's mouth, annoyed at how he couldn't see what he was doing with the obi when he had his head raised.
"The hell's wrong with ye?" Kenpachi laughed at his attempts to disrobe him, and, after ripping away Jushiro's obi and fundoshi with one swift motion, dove his hand into the other's hakama. Jushiro let out a groan as he felt Kenpachi stroking him, and pulled him down for another fierce kiss. But Kenpachi went straight for his neck, nibbling at his collar bone and nipping at his throat. He let his head roll back against the tree trunk, hands clutching the larger man's sleeves, holding onto him as he rode on the waves of pleasure.
Jushiro turned his head to the side to give Kenpachi added access to his skin, but immediately turned his face away when the sunlight nearly blinded him. It flashed through little cracks between the leaves, casting bright patches on their clothes, their bodies.
"Oh, for goodness' sake," Jushiro managed, holding himself back from jerking into Kenpachi's hand, "move in a little." With that, he guided him further under the shade and out of the burning sun.
"Can't take the heat, old man?" Kenpachi smirked, giving his length a little squeeze, laughing when Jushiro emitted a surprised gasp and glared at him. "Fussy old pansy, that's what ye are."
"I don't remember you having any say in this, Zaraki." Jushiro finally dislodged his troublesome obi and tossed it away like a rag doll, his hand now creeping under his hakama to tease his growing arousal.
"Remind me again who ain't got the brains t'loosen a damned obi." Kenpachi captured his lips once more, growling as he felt Jushiro's fingers wrap themselves around him. His own stroking increased in speed, and he took the time to squeeze the head of Jushiro's length, receiving a moan that vibrated in his mouth.
Jushiro could feel his knees weakening under the pressure, the overwhelming pleasure that seized him and drowned him in the wildest of tempests. His breathing quickened; he thrust his hips upwards, pleading silently for more, his hands trailing up Kenpachi's body to wrap themselves around the back of his neck, to pull him closer. He squeezed his eyes shut as his vision burst with white light, a groan leaving him as he rode out his release. Kenpachi wrapped his free arm around him before he buckled, and when Jushiro was done, he withdrew his hand and wiped away the warm, sticky liquid on the tree trunk.
Kenpachi grinned at the flushed look on his lover's face, bending down to leave a steamy kiss on his lips. "Satisfied?"
Jushiro couldn't say that he wasn't. A quick release was what they could manage at this point, being in the open and all, with the high risk of getting caught. Being discovered by Ikkaku or Yumichika wasn't very much appealing, what with the pretty-boy and his big mouth, but that was still fair game. Yachiru, on the other hand, was not, and he would be damned if she ever found them together like this.
But still, Jushiro couldn't help but give into his own inner desires. Having Kenpachi this close, his familiar weight pressed up against him, his wondrous smell of grass and dirt brushing against and making its mark on him, was something Jushiro very much looked forward to. He'd be even more damned if he were to let this chance pass him by. Indeed, he was guaranteed even more sessions later on, but the man was never prone to wasting.
Kenpachi was caught by surprise when Jushiro reversed their positions in one swift motion, and in the blink of an eye he found himself pinned to the trunk, with his smug fellow captain trapping him down instead. A slow grin etched its way up his face as he took Jushiro's chin in a hand, amused at the hunger burning within those beautiful green eyes of his.
And then Jushiro was on him, kissing and nipping and biting at his throat. His hands wondered all over his body, creeping inside his shihakusho and kneading his taut muscles. Fingers traced the many scars littering his back, outlining his shoulder blades, while tongue licked at beads of perspiration. Kenpachi let out a growl when Jushiro slipped a hand inside his fundoshi and grabbed him. His caresses were slow, gentle, and Kenpachi jerked his hips forward and hissed for more.
"Pansy," he growled against Jushiro's lips, swearing when he only received an amused smile in return. Jushiro continued to give him slow, agonizingly slow strokes, working his mouth against his in hot kisses that sent jolts of electricity throughout both their systems.
"Patience," he whispered, free hand slipping off Kenpachi's uniform. He trailed his tongue along his collarbone, coming to a halt on his bare shoulder where he proceeded to suck and bite. All the while his hand worked Kenpachi, finger trailing from base to head and squeezing lightly. He could practically feel Kenpachi's irritation at him, but he couldn't really blame Jushiro for being such a tease. He liked it anyway, but he wasn't going to start admitting to avoid Jushiro from having such a high opinion of himself.
Kenpachi couldn't help but laugh at the thought, but his mirth was cut off by a groan when he felt Jushiro tighten his grip around him. Teeth grazed his shoulder, hand squeezed him, and he felt like he was toppling over the edge to drown in a sea of pleasure, of passion and lust. He let his eyelids drift to a close, head rolling back against the trunk as a grin stretched his lips. Jushiro's warm, wet tongue flicked a nipple; he laughed, and Jushiro proceeded to suck on it.
Rock-hard, desperate for release, Kenpachi thrust his hips forward into Jushiro's hand. He was climbing ever higher to his peak. Just a few more strokes, and he'd be there. A quick release and he'd be done. Just one more-
"Ken-chaaan!"
"Fuck shit," and Kenpachi jerked out of his trance as Jushiro quickly retracted his hand. Without even a word to each other, with the sole thought of that little pink bob in mind, both of them fumbled with their clothes and tidied themselves and, in mere seconds, Yachiru appeared and latched herself onto Kenpachi's shoulder.
"How was the fight? Who won? I bet Ken-chan won again!" she blabbered, mostly ignoring Jushiro, which was just as well since he was still tying his obi in place. "Ken-chan always wins!"
"Why's that, runt?" Kenpachi cast a glance over at Jushiro, trying to distract Yachiru before she noticed what he was doing.
"Because Ukki's always sick. Ken-chan should know that!" She knocked him on the head with her little fist, and then turned and flashed a bright smile over at Jushiro who, fortunately, was done with his rather troublesome obi. "Let's go have somethin' to eat, Ukki! It's Ken-chan's turn to treat ya, remember, Ken-chan?"
Kenpachi snorted, gave a nod to Jushiro, and turned on his heel to head back to the barracks. "Fuck this heat, I need a damned drink. Like it or not, ye're comin' with us, Ukitake."
"It's just as well." Jushiro smiled, taking long strides to catch up with the man's fast paces, which proved to be a little difficult given his slightly numb legs. "I need a cup of tea myself."
Yachiru settled herself on Kenpachi's shoulders, tiny fists grabbing his spikes to use as reins to steer him forward, but her eyes were still trained on the tree behind them.
"Ne, Ken-chan?" She tapped him on the forehead, and Jushiro couldn't help but laugh when Kenpachi swiped her hand away with a growl.
"What, brat?"
And when Yachiru pointed at the tree, or more specifically, at the piece of cloth draped over its roots, Kenpachi burst out with a guffaw at Jushiro's wide eyes and the blush that dominated his face.
"Whose fundoshi is that?"