Bleach Fic
Title: Taking Turns
Author: vayshti Beta: misumaru
Characters/Pairings: RenjixByakuya
Setting/warnings/spoilers: Set post ch181. Man-(oral)sex smmmuuuuut. Renji’s potty mouth. Oh, and fluff which may make some fillings ache.
Word Count: 3632
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don’t own. I do share nice.
Summary:Not all things have to be said.
Written for bleach_contest prompt week #25 - quid pro quo.
X-posted to bleach_yaoi and bya_ren
A/N: Can be read as a stand alone, or as the sequel to Saying Something Nice
rozella_rising: haha! *finally* smut n fluff.
Taking Turns
Black
Byakuya’s head smacked against the headboard as the two of them collapsed on the bed, a tangle of limbs and expectations. His head didn’t hurt, although he raised a hand to his scalp in an automatic response to the knock.
Renji’s words were just as automatic. ‘Shit. Sorry.’
There was no doubt that Renji was sorry, but his tone of voice belied the apology of the words uttered. The tone said that he was currently preoccupied, that he was only half aware of the knock - that the blood thumping around his body was not rushing to the organ that usually did his thinking.
Byakuya shook his head. ‘It doesn’t hurt.’
If he was honest, he ought to admit that he liked it. Not being knocked about - but Renji losing control, and him being the reason why. There was a power in that: a power in being chased, being wanted - it was new to him.
A tiny part of him wondered if that was the reason he was here, that he was just being a glutton for new experiences. That what he was doing, letting be done to him, wasn’t really because of his Fukutaichō at all. That Renji was just a convenient excuse, and that any bit of rough trade would have done. Maybe the fact he could look at nothing else but Renji, the fact that he ran his hands over every part of him that he could reach, trying to memorise and catalogue each contour, was just his mind playing games. Hell knew that they were such an unlikely pair.
No future.
How had he got here?
If he thought hard enough, he could see each step, each logical ratchet of cause and effect, and yet none of it seemed real. Each step was plausible, but the conclusion was too fantastic to believe even as he experienced it. He felt as detached from reality as a drunk, but he would not have that excuse to run to in the morning.
Renji pulled back, knelt on the bed, frowning. ‘We could stop…’
‘No.’ Byakuya reached up and pulled the already loose black ribbon from Renji’s hair. He ran his hand through it, so thick, coarse, until his hand caught on a tangle, tugging on Renji’s head. He gave the hair in his hand a twist, using it to anchor both himself and pull Renji towards him.
Renji’s hand slammed down next to Byakuya’s face to avoid having his own head crash into the headboard. He grabbed his own handful of Byakuya’s hair, which lay on the pillow. Touching it made a shudder run the length of Renji’s body, large enough for Byakuya to twitch in empathy. He pulled Renji in for a hard kiss, wanting to impress upon him by actions that this was exactly what he wanted, what he needed.
‘No. No stopping.’ He knew his voice had slipped into the pattern of “Taichō,” that stern voice that always shocked him when it tumbled from his own lips. It was the voice of strength and authority, mocking his frailties even as it hid them. He expected Renji to freeze, to back away, but he had not given his Fukutaichō enough credit. He smiled a wicked smile and dove straight in, using the hand he now fisted at the back of Byakuya’s head to tilt his face, forcing Byakuya to meet his open mouth kiss and diving tongue. It was perfect. There was no doubting Renji’s desire, but the kisses were laid carefully; no clash of teeth or splitting lips -so often the result of over-eager motions.
Byakuya let himself go limp, allowed Renji to take control. It had been so long since he had been able to let someone else take care of him. Not even in his precious memories of Hisana had he been able to drop the role of protector. He willed Renji to understand, hoped that his frantic fingers would express the message he couldn’t quite give voice to.
Do anything you want. It is my wish. Use me how you want. Let me forget everything.
As if he had heard his plea, Renji broke off, tugging away Byakuya’s clothes before sitting back, breathing heavily. Byakuya watched Renji’s eyes travel over his exposed body and wanted to curl up, protect himself despite his earlier wish to be open to anything. He felt like Renji’s gaze was tearing off layers of skin, like he was penetrating all the masks and layers Byakuya wore.
He held his breath, hoping that Renji would make a move before Byakuya had to. And then Renji dove onto him one more, tracing his ribs and hips with his hands as he moved downwards, out of Byakuya’s reach. The only things Byakuya could still touch were his hair and those arms, and it was not enough. He needed more. But Renji stayed low, his hot breath stirring more than just the hair on his groin. And then Byakuya was in Renji’s mouth, and the sudden shock of that warm wetness, after so, so long, was enough for him to cry out. He heard Renji chuckle evilly, before he took the head of Byakuya’s cock into his mouth once again. The sight was hidden behind the fan of red hair that spread over Byakuya’s stomach, but he could see every detail in his mind’s eye; Renji would have his eyes closed, there - a touch of his thumb, there - the subtle ripple of back and arm muscles as Renji bobbed his head.
Byakuya squirmed beneath Renji’s ministrations. His hands scrabbled blindly over hair and skin, then over air, trying to feel more of Renji who remained steadfastly just out of reach. It was uneven. It made him uncomfortable. He hadn’t asked for this, so it was clear that this was exactly what Renji wanted to do, but it felt like he was taking everything and giving nothing in return. He had to give something back. ‘Renji… Abarai stop. Please.’
Renji sat up, tense, hurt in his eyes, leaving Byakuya’s obvious arousal wet, but unattended. ‘You do wanna stop this.’
‘No! Yes…’ Byakuya sighed. ‘I want to touch you too.’
Renji’s shoulders softened. ‘Is that all?’’
He crawled up Byakuya’s side, running a line of kisses against his sharp jaw before forcing Byakuya’s hand inside his hakama, under the twisted cloth of his fundoshi. He nipped Byakuya’s ear. ‘I fully intend for ya to return the favour, see?’
He pulled Byakuya’s hand out, despite Byakuya wanting to leave it where it was, hard up against Renji’s cock. Renji kissed him again. ‘But let me do this first. Okay? Let me…’
Renji slid his hands down Byakuya’s body, finally resting them on his cock moments before he flicked his tongue around the base of Byakuya’s head. He teased him, with his hands with his lips, with the roof of his mouth, tantalising him with the promise of his throat. And Byakuya found his hands resting on the back of Renji’s head, carding through those red strands, but just resting - never taking control or guiding Renji. There was no need.
He knew he should just lie back, let the sensation fill him up to bursting point, lose control, but he could not keep his head quiet. It still tried to tell him this was not real, that his curling toes and raised hairs were a lie, that he was dreaming - that he was not being given head by the man that he had thought wanted to kill him. How many days ago had things changed? Five? Six?
Yet even as his mind raced, his body was anchored in the reality he could barely believe in. His back arched, and his grip on Renji’s hair grew tighter. Renji jammed his finger just hard enough below Byakuya’s balls to make him yell out as he convulsed, the twitches sending come right into Renji’s mouth. Renji did not pull away.
He swallowed. He actually swallowed.
And still Renji did not pull away; instead he gently lapped at his cock as if its juice was an elixir that would sustain him forever.
Byakuya struggled to sit up, a combination of shaking muscles and the returning pain of his barely healed injuries. He lifted Renji’s head, placing a kiss firmly on his lips, the taste of himself still mingling with the taste of Renji. He pulled him into his arms, peppering his throat and shoulders with kisses, focusing on the ink and scars that would never, ever stop Renji from being absolutely perfect.
It was not easy, and he probably grunted with the effort, but he was able to get Renji lying down in the same spot he had been, was able to kneel between his spread legs just as Renji had done for him. Renji struggled, even as Byakuya untwisted his fundoshi.
Renji grabbed Byakuya’s hand moments before he had curled it around his cock.
‘Kuchiki-taichō... I-’
Renji’s eyes were wide, vulnerable, if such a word could ever be used to describe someone tempered by the Rukongai into such a hard, steely weapon. Byakuya stilled him with a kiss. Now was not the time for words.
‘Ssh, Renji; it’s your turn.’
And the words in Byakuya’s head fell silent for once.
Red
They were backing towards the bed, all mouths and hands, tugging on each other’s clothes but managing to do nothing more than dishevel them. And then, although some small part of Renji’s brain had been repeating Take it easy, Byakuya’s still not fully healed, their drop on the bed was anything but gentle. He’d managed to smack Byakuya, the man who was barely out of his sickbed, into the headboard.
Byakuya raised a hand to his head. Oh god, if he’d hurt him…
They had been waiting so long for this. It hadn’t been said, no it hadn’t even been hinted at, but there was no doubt that both of them had been waiting, counting down the days until they could fuck each other senseless. He could barely think straight after all the anticipation. Even now, even as there was every chance that Byakuya would back out and say this was a mistake, his cock was still harder than it had ever been before.
‘Shit. Sorry.’
Byakuya shook his head. ‘It doesn’t hurt.’
No. But there was no going past the fact that he was still fragile. Renji wanted him so bad, wanted to explore every inch of him inside and out and then some, but he wanted it to be perfect. Kuchiki-taichō didn’t deserve anything less, and yet Renji had still gone and smacked his head against the headboard. It was just that typical of him.
A tiny part of him wondered if that was the reason he was here, that he was just being a glutton for punishment. That what he was doing, wasn’t really because of who Byakuya was, but because of what he represented. Taichō. Noble. Stronger. Rukia-stealer. That maybe Renji wanted to be treated as inferior; kicked in the dirt repeatedly. Maybe the fact he could look at nothing else but Kuchiki-taichō, the fact that he wanted to scoop him up and hold him close, be strong, be his protector, was just a mind-fuck. Anyone seeing them together would find it fucking funny after all.
No future.
Why was Byakuya even letting him touch him?
If he thought hard enough, he could see Byakuya offering him precious words, each one saying ‘I want you,’ even if the words didn’t, not really. Yet none of it seemed real. Each little moment was believable, but to find his self right here, right now, was fucking unbelievable. He felt as though this was merely a fevered dream, even as he felt that cool, soft skin, felt those lips brush against his own. It was too good to be imaginary.
It was too good to be real.
He knelt back. He didn’t want to blow it. ‘We could stop…’
‘No.’
That was it. Just one commanding word before his Taichō reached for Renji’s hair, pulling the black ribbon free and running his hand through. Renji caught the look in his eye. It was clear what he wanted, that Kuchiki-taichō had no misgivings. Renji had to trust that his eyes were telling the truth.
Byakuya gave the hair in his hand a twist, pulling Renji towards him, pulling him off-balance.
Renji splayed his hand out so he wouldn’t fall on his Taichō, his hand landing on the black strands that fell like a wave over the pillows. He grabbed a handful, his body twitching with pleasure as the thought I’m touching his hair ran through his mind. Byakuya shuddered too, pulling Renji in for a hard kiss before he spoke again.
‘No. No stopping.’
Kuchiki-taichō used that voice that Renji knew so well, that voice that had the power to make the entire Squad Six believe that they could jump mountains, just because their Taichō willed it. His Taichō believed, so it must be true. It was exactly what Renji had needed to hear. He could not help but smile as he dove in for a real kiss - no more of those previous, uncertain, little kisses. Renji gently tilted Byakuya’s face, making sure he was at just the right angle, that his kiss would be perfect - no caught lips or clashing teeth, no kisses placed on noses or chins. He wished that his kiss would tell Byakuya what he couldn’t say;
I want you. And this is how much.
And yet there had to be limits. Baby steps. Renji wanted nothing better than to throw Byakuya over and bury his cock in his arse, leave dents, possibly bruises on his thighs from pounding him with his hip bones - but he knew it took more than that for this to be perfect. He wanted there to be a next time. There needed to be a next time, and he wasn’t going to break Kuchiki-taichō in half, split open his wounds just because he couldn’t keep a grip on himself.
Byakuya had closed his eyes, his breathing deeper, his hands in Renji’s hair, on his back, on his arms, on his chest, wanting to be everywhere at once. Renji wanted him to stay like that, on his back, his eyes closed, simply revelling in sensation. And he knew what he wanted to do. He knew what he would give to his Taichō.
He broke away, finally tugging off the clothes that had stopped him from truly seeing Byakuya. And he was gorgeous Even the angry reds of new skin and old wounds could not mask the refined nature of his skin, the perfection of his abdomen, the jut of his hip bone, the way his cock twitched just so. Renji’s let his gaze rest everywhere, trying to burn each cell of skin in to his memory.
But it still wasn’t enough. He wanted to be immersed in Byakuya. He also wanted to hear, to feel, to smell, and by god he wanted to taste. Almost not daring to touch, scared that his battle-hard hands would sully Kuchiki-taichō, he traced the shape of ribs and hips as he moved downwards, moving closer towards his goal. He tentatively nuzzled Byakuya’s cock, before opening his mouth, using his hand to place the head of Byakuya’s cock on his tongue. Byakuya cried out, but in the way that told Renji that he did not have to stop. It was wonderful.
He took a little more of Byakuya inside his mouth, using the roof of his mouth and the flick of his tongue to make his Taichō squirm He dipped deeper, taking more of Kuchiki-taichō into his mouth, tasting his skin, smelling his scent, feeling him move, twitch, beneath him. He tasted the fluids that leaked from Kuchiki-taichō’s eye. He was tasting Kuchiki-taichō and it was enough for Renji’s skin to prickle and his heart beat fast.
‘Renji… Abarai stop. Please.’
The words crashed down around him. He knew it had been too good to be true. He lifted his head, sat back, and tried to read the look on Kuchiki-taichō’s face.
‘You do wanna stop this.’
Had he asked for too much? Was this all his doing? Had he forced him? Kuchiki-taichō certainly hadn’t initiated anything, had done nothing besides uttering that “No.”
‘No! Yes…’ Byakuya sighed.
‘I want to touch you too.’
Renji let out the breath he’d been wrapping inside himself for protection. Fuck he was an idiot. It made sense. He wasn’t too sure how he’d feel if Byakuya had suddenly gone down on him without talking through the game plan. But he needed confirmation.
‘Is that all?’’
There was no hesitation, no swallowed excuses or “maybe’s.” And that was enough. Kuchiki-taichō didn’t need to say more - it was clear to Renji that he just needed to spell out the rules, show that he wasn’t here just to give. Tit for tat, scratching each other’s backs - there might be power in being the one that always took action, but twist that slightly and it meant you were always the one doing the work. The power relationship between him and his Taichō was complex enough with out complicating it further. The voices still said he wasn’t good enough, even with all the proof that Byakuya didn’t agree with them.
Renji inched up, ran a line of kisses against Byakuya’s jaw while he grabbed Byakuya’s hand, sliding it inside his fundoshi before he realised what Renji intended. That cool hand was enough to make him buck, almost enough to make him lose his resolve not to flip Byakuya over. Renji nipped his ear.
‘I fully intend for ya to return the favour, see?’
He pulled Byakuya’s hand from his cock, wishing that he could just lie back and let Byakuya take him in his fist, but that would mean he’d have failed to do what he so, so wanted to do. He had to show him he was good enough.
He kissed his Taichō again. ‘But let me do this first. Okay? Let me…’
The rest of the sentence was lost as Renji slid his hands down, carding through Byakuya’s black thatch, before gripping his cock. Renji quickly raised his head to look at Kuchiki-taichō, but he was already far away, breathing unsteadily. Renji flicked his tongue around Byakuya’s cock, and then he was tasting him again.
He teased Byakuya, with his hands, with his lips, with the roof of his mouth, wishing he could swallow him; eat him whole, suck him dry. And he wanted more. He wanted to take his own cock in his hand, beat it furiously, but then there would be no favour to return. Things would be uneven, the power unbalanced. And so he gripped Kuchiki-taichō’s waist instead, watching for the hints, the movements, all the messages Byakuya’s body would tell him about what to do next. He watched for that tell-tale tightening, the ragged breath, and then suddenly Byakuya was there on the edge of coming, and Renji just had to press in the right spot to tip him over the edge. Byakuya yelled out as he convulsed, the twitches sending come right into Renji’s mouth. Renji did not want to pull away.
Even when Byakuya was still once more Renji did not pull away; instead he licked Byakuya clean, gathering up every last drop of sex that remained. Yet, before Renji had finished, his Taichō lifted Renji’s head, placing a kiss firmly on his lips. He pulled Renji into an embrace, dotting his skin with kisses like an inking needle.
And then Renji found himself lying on his back, his Taichō kneeling between his spread legs. And even though he wanted this, he didn’t want it yet. He needed to tell Kuchiki-taichō -
Byakuya had untwisted his fundoshi and Renji only just grabbed Byakuya’s hand before he had curled it around Renji’s cock.
‘Kuchiki-taichō... I-’
How did he say this? It was important, too important to fuck up with blunt words. It had to be perfect. He knew his mouth was open as he struggled to find the right words. But then Byakuya cut his words dead with a kiss.
‘Ssh, Renji. It’s your turn.’
And as Byakuya bent down, tightened his grip, the voices that whispered Not good enough fell silent.
Black and Red
Sleep beckoned, but neither of them wanted to give in to it. Sleep was too much like a kuten; the full stop of a sentence - an acknowledgement that things had come to their end.
Byakuya’s hands lazily danced everywhere - a twirl in Renji’s hair, a waltz over his abdomen, a pirouette on his nipple.
‘So what were you going to say?’
Colour rose in Renji’s cheeks. ‘I can’t.’
He paused, about to say the moment had gone, but the echoes of the last time he thought that stilled his tongue. ‘I mean, I -’ he took a deep breath, ‘Taichō I-’
A cool finger was placed against his mouth, widening his eyes.
‘You don’t need to say it, Renji.’
The finger was quickly replaced with lips. Soft kisses were left on his, gradually melting him, even though those lips were cooler than his own. The lips left his mouth just as he dipped his head to bite the lower one, escaping to leave a light trail of touches up to his ear.
‘You don’t need to say it, because I already know,’ Byakuya whispered. He pressed his forehead against Renji’s temple. He smiled. It was a small smile, the corners still aching with the weight of history, but it was still a smile meant just for Renji, even if he couldn’t see it.
‘I don’t need to say it either for exactly the same reason.’