Bleach Fanfic: Morning After? NanaoxShun rated T

[starbearertm]

Title: Morning After?

Author: StarbearerTM

Pairing: slight NanaoxShun

Words: 2289

Rating: PG 13 or T for adult themes

Genre: Humor, Romance

Warnings: Implied adult situations

Disclaimer: Tite Kubo owns Bleach, and Shonen Jump licenses it. I own no characters except the storyline, and make no money writing this.

Something pounded hard against her temple. It throbbed so much that Nanao was sure someone was stepping on her head that moment. What made things worse was she could not move her body at first. Each limb was glued down to some surface she lay on. For a split second she panicked, worrying about her glasses yet when she opened her eyes she saw a blur. Not to mention she felt something missing from her face. Her glasses were like an extension of her being and she felt naked without them.

Another attempt to lift her head resulted in something sticking to her cheek. Perhaps halfway. Groaning she heard the rough sandpapery sound of her own voice and flinched. Beneath her, the rest of the mattress was equally hard and lump. She struggled to move but ended up flopping down from weariness.

“Oh no, what happened,” Nanao moaned, shivering in fear. Her hand caressed soft silk, and something like male chest hair.

Daring to look up she saw a chin and the dimensions of the body were considerable that she was stretched out upon. Another fling of her nearly boneless hand against her chest confirmed that she was still clothed. Twitching her legs, which was all she could really manage from such sluggish muscles she felt resistance from more cloth.

“I cannot have a hangover. I cannot AFFORD to have a hangover,” she lamented.

Panic spread through her in an attempt to get her muscles moving. She struggled to push herself up but a hard muscular arm tightened around her back. Letting out a squeak she squirmed enough to peer up at a chiseled chin and long hair splayed over a pillow.

Long chestnut brown hair. A chin covered in five o’clock shadow badly in need of a shave. A smell of rich cologne undernoted with sweaty musk. From her clothes dampness, she realized she sweat a great deal and the source of heat was considerable. For a moment, tears stung her eyes and she felt her heart pounding. Then she peered over her other shoulder seeing a pink silk blur covering her body. Flecks of bright color interrupted it from being one solid color. Everything added up in her mind despite her lack of glasses.

“Thank god,” she mumbled. She couldn’t be safer then she was now. However, at this point she wanted to thump the man she now lay upon. At first she wondered just WHY he’d even thought of putting her through this but she saw how much of the futon he took up and realized in some rational part of her brain just why he’d put her on top of him.

Judging from the cloth that she felt with her other hand trapped under her body it felt inexpensive. Just the type of cloth he would use as an obi. Then she suppressed a laugh. Everything seemed to click into place. How typical that he would not even undress. How fortunate.

“Nothing happened,” Nanao mumbled, wondering why she felt disappointed. If she ended up with her Taicho, then she shuddered to think what could have happened. She had not recalled even seeing him except in a blurry haze that seemed like a dream.

“My head is killing me,” she whined once more.

“Mmm, just five more minutes,” he rumbled under her, and she flinched.

“I am NEVER going to live this down,” she thought, biting off her next comment.

Nanao peered with her cheek resting against his chest at their surroundings, though it was hard to see where they were in the blurs. A chilly wind made her shiver accompanied by the sound of leaves rustling. However, the narrow focus of the breeze suggested an open door or window. She could just about discern a ceiling overhead and the vague shapes of rice paper screens.

Someone’s house then. Not her captain’s, but someone else’s. Someone with enough means to give them a whole room to themselves but a small futon. Unfortunately, whoever it was probably had servants, which meant they would whisper and rumors would fly rampant.

Nanao winced, steeling herself for the barrage of inquiries and teasing to come about sleeping with her captain. Even though people insinuated they already WERE sleeping together this was far from the truth she still felt flushed and hot. Not that she had not entertained it in her fantasies but the irritations in his behavior made her want to smack him more than give in to his flirting.

*I’m going to kill him for this,* Nanao vowed, struggling again to straighten up and at least scrabble for her glasses. Again the arm tightened on her and dragged her back down so her cheek slammed into his hairy chest.

“Sleep Nanao chan. No place t’ have to go,” he lazily murmured.

“You are insufferable and… and… infuriating,” she meant to shout, but winced at the sound of her own voice.

“Head pounding, lips dry?” he mumbled, rubbing her back lightly. She huffed and thumped his chest with a fist.

Nanao winced. Of course, he would know what a hangover felt like, the lush. “How nice of you to ask. I feel as if gravity increased and I was attacked by Kira Fukaitaicho’s shikai, thank you very much, Taicho.”

“Don’t try to move too quickly,” he muttered, hand sliding up to the back of her head to rub her temples.

“I am languishing of thirst and my head is killing me… so if you’d just release me,” she huffed. “Or direct me to my glasses…”

“Under the hat,” he relented. “But take it slowly.”

“I can’t even SEE where the hat is, Kyoraku Taicho,” she huffed.

“So impatient. Well if I can’t encourage you to lie still I guess I’ll help you,” he said, suppressing a slight chuckle that made her want to smack him. Yet she hardly had the energy to lift her hand.

The shadow of one of his hands passed over her face turned to the side and dipped behind his head. Then it returned, setting something next to her hand. Grabbing her glasses, she tugged one of the temples apart from the lenses with her lips so she could slide them on. Instantly her captain’s concerned yet smug face was clearly visible.

Sighing she asked, “Mind explaining just where we are, and how we came to be…”

“Nanao chan, part of that is up to you. When I found you, you were showing off a very lovely singing voice in the middle of the tavern near squad 8.”

“I sang? Oh no,” Nanao groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. She buried her face in his chest.

“Ouch… you could hurt someone with those,” he warned. She lifted her head once more.

Nanao glared at him. “Serve you right. Dragging me to lord knows where. Just who did we impose upon now?”

“Ukitake Taicho. Ugendo. And it’s no bother,” Kyoraku reassured her, wincing at her loud tone of voice. She dropped the volume a few notches.

“Just… what was I singing?” she asked meekly, rubbing her temples.

“Let me see, something about 99 bottles of sake on a wall,” Kyoraku hummed. “Rather amusing ditty if I say so myself.”

“Not a drinking song you know?” she asked.

“You’re so cruel Nanao. After all the trouble I went to rescuing you from the hands of the drunken masses and bringing you safely here to sleep it off?” Kyoraku half scolded.

“You’re hardly one to tell me how to drink,” she mumbled, rolling off of him on her side. He turned over to face her, his pink kimono still covering both of them as a blanket.

“Actually I am. Take it from someone with years of experience, that wasn’t the best place to get intoxicated,” he scolded gently.

Eyes widening Nanao shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you of all people are lecturing me on…”

“You should have eaten a meal beforehand. Not to mention pacing yourself. I may enjoy my drink but I always drink with friends,” Shunsui said quietly. “If you’d wanted to go out for a drink you could have asked me.”

“You sound as if I hurt your feelings,” she mumbled, feeling a bit stupid now. “But I was with friends. Hinamori and Rangiku.”

“In a very rowdy place I may add. You’re lucky that Rangiku called me over to check on you. That woman has quite a bit of sense more than you give her credit for. She was looking out for you.”

“Spare me the lecture,” she sighed. “You’re obviously enjoying getting back at me for…”

“Dragging you here half crying isn’t my idea of fun, Nanao chan,” he said seriously. “You were quite upset about something. So what exactly was it mmm? Considering you hardly so much as lift a glass except at special gatherings.”

“Maybe I just didn’t want to be responsible for an evening,” she said quietly.

“That sounds reasonable,” Kyoraku said softly, rubbing her back again. “Next time you feel like raising hell, drag me along.”

“And have you be far less sober than I?” she groaned, rolling her eyes.

“If I’m troubling my head about your pretty head, then I’ve a good reason for moderation,” he said with a chuckle.

Daring to look him directly in the eyes she asked, “Kyoraku Taicho… what exactly DID I say last night? Anything embarrassing?”

“Nothing more so then your usual tongue lashing, but the subject was more heartfelt,” he admitted truthfully.

“Did I… kiss you?” she asked quietly.

“You attempted to,” he chuckled. “Though I stopped you.”

Nanao furrowed her brows. “Because…”

“I respect you too much, and…” he drawled on, fingering her hair.

Nanao didn't push his hand away. “And?”

“I wanted you to remember it of course in perfect detail,” he said softly, brushing hair out of her face.

“I see. Well… thank you Kyoraku Taicho… for protecting my virtue,” she said with a bit of surprise.

“My pleasure. Now, let’s see about getting you rehydrated…”

“One more question, Taicho?” she said.

“Ask away,” he said, amused. A slight smile turned up the corner of his mouth.

“Did you and I… well… er…” she asked, blushing.

“What? You can ask me anything,” he teased her. He was enjoying this, she realized.

“Did you and I… do anything which involved removing our clothing, and then necessitated putting it back on?” she asked, voice almost in a whisper.

Kyoraku ruffled her hair. “Is my Nanao chan disappointed if I said no?”

“Well perhaps I would be,” she mumbled. “Though if you tell anyone…”

“Are you?” he asked, brushing her nose.

“Am I what?” she huffed, now bored of his game.

“Disappointed to hear you and I didn’t make passionate love Nanao chan?” he asked seriously.

Biting her lip, she lowered her head. She rested a hand on his chest and then mumbled, “Yes. I am disappointed… just a bit.”

“I must say if we had, you would have remembered it and there would have been little doubt,” he further quipped.

“How typical,” Nanao sighed rolling her eyes.

“I wouldn’t wish you to be so intoxicated you wouldn’t enjoy it and remember every detail either, Nanao Chan,” he drawled, sending shivers down her spine.

“When I first woke up I was somewhat…. To a small degree disappointed we hadn’t,” she admitted, peering at him from behind her glasses. It was now or never she thought, catching him in a moment between smugness and sincerity. Grabbing his chin, she leaned up and kissed him directly on the lips.

A soft moan rumbled through his throat. Even though she tasted something unpleasant and was sure her breath smelled badly she kept her face to his. The hand on her back cradled the nape of her neck and she felt him roll them over so they were on their sides. Immediately he turned his head to the side and reciprocated first sliding his tongue along her lips to coax her mouth open. Just as she imagined he would but with far more delicacy.

Over her passed a wave of intense heat prompting her to open her lips in a gasp. His tongue slid through seizing the opportunity and she shivered.
Just as she figured she would if he got so close all those times before. His hair tickled her cheeks and his tongue swept the roof of her mouth, taking his time tasting her as if she were fine sake. Every bit the kiss of a man with experience who wanted a woman to remember every aspect of it. With self-assurance and a hint of arrogance mingled with concern for her own desires.

Nanao retaliated by grasping a handful of his hair and sliding her tongue past his lips to do the same. A soft chuckle through his throat showed his amusement. She increased the fairness of the kiss, forcing her mouth onto his only to have him deepen the kiss and roll her over so she was beneath him. Rough and suddenly fierce and needy, she wanted far more. To her delight, he did not push her away and demand that he be in charge. Rather he pulled back and smiled at her knowingly.

“Don’t look so smug,” she mumbled.

“Don’t hold back on my account, Nanao chan,” he teased yet again, pressing his brow to hers.

“I would, but my breath tastes horrible,” she groaned.

“No worse than I’ve tasted in my own mouth. I enjoy being kissed in the morning by a lovely woman after I wake up,” he commented.

“Another one of your lines, Kyoraku Taicho,” she sighed.

With a mock look of hurt he said, “It’s true. You wound me Nanao chan. Why would I say it if I didn’t mean it mmm?”

Nanao smiled this time, laying on her side facing him. He playfully tweaked her nose then sat up with a groan and popping of joints. Once he stood up he extended a hand down to her to help her up. She put hers inside it, ready to face breakfast and whatever questions people may through their way.

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