FIC: Shunsui x Ukitake
Title: Down Time
Pairing: Shunsui x Ukitake
Rating: PG-13
Done for: prof_ryoki
The thing about being one of the longest standing captains in Seireitei was you got away with several things. For once, delegating a majority of your work to your vice-captains was permissible, especially if you used the ‘I’m feeling a bit down today’ excuse accompanied with a history of chronic illness and upright morality that meant you couldn’t possibly be lying. Ukitake did not use this excuse often, bordering on the brink of never, but every now and then he honestly just wanted a day to sit and drink tea and read a novel and not think about his vice-captains’ bickering or the pressure of being a Captain in a wounded Soul Society.
For another, it meant no one questioned the fact the Captain of the Eighth Division came to visit on regular basis, especially during these ‘I’m feeling a bit down today’ days. It made perfect sense to the younger Shinigami that the two oldest Captains, aside from the Commander himself, would take days to just talk and reminisce and ‘rest their old bones’.
Ukitake highly doubted any of said younger Shinigami expected the Captain of the Thirteenth and the Captain of the Eighth to have made love.
The entire scenario was not new to Ukitake. Through dropped hints in their passing conversations, Ukitake informed Shunsui of the day he planned to take off, Shunsui inevitably appeared, and they spent what part of the day they could being the couple they were. Long ago they agreed to keep this part of their ‘friendship’ secret, unsure how Soul Society would take two of its most respected Captains being in love. The Commander was aware, of course, as was Shunsui’s vice-captain, Nanao, but then again she knew everything about Shunsui because if she didn’t Ukitake figured Shunsui would have been court-martialed more than once on moral grounds.
The soft brush of whiskers floated down Ukitake’s back, paw like hands stroking his sides and thighs. He chuckled, turning over onto his back, looking up at the face of his lover. Shunsui’s brunette hair still remained plastered to his face from sweat, the rest unbound around his shoulders in soft waves. His face seemed softened in the aftermath, the deep lines beneath his eyes somewhat less noticeable, his lips quirked up in a real smile. Ukitake reached up, running his fingers through Shunsui’s hair, loving the way the man’s hair felt against his skin. His flesh still tingled from his touch, sweet spasms of heat flushing his body, his core feeling bruised and raw still (but in the best possible way), his buttocks stinging from Shunsui’s passionate grip, his lips sore and swollen from frantic kisses.
Shunsui leaned his head into Ukitake’s hand, his whiskers rubbing against Ukitake’s arm, sending little shocks of pleasure running through the white-haired captain. It was moments like this, these moments of peace and loving comfort that Ukitake craved most. To often Soul Society found itself under threat, Aizen’s betrayal looming over them all. More so, he found getting up each morning more difficult: his limbs felt heavy, the air like gravel running down his throat when he breathed. It was only these moments with Shunsui, their stolen moments of passion and laughter, that kept the disease from claiming him, kept him from succumbing.
“You’re thinking sad thoughts again,” Shunsui leaned down, brushing against Ukitake’s lips feather light.
Ukitake smiled, pressing his face to Shunsui’s chest, breathing in his scent - musk, sweat, sakura, and sake. “Nanao disrupting us is a sad thought.”
Laughter rumbled through Shunsui’s chest, bubbling up rich and deep. “Nanao wouldn’t dare. She’s a fine lady, but there are simply some things I won’t allow.”
“How much paperwork did you leave her to come see me?” Ukitake asked, leaning his head back on the pillow to look up at Shunsui.
Shunsui grunted, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll pull a long night.”
Ukitake laughed, the moment soured as his breath caught, lungs fighting for air, body quaking with each desperate heave. Strong arms wrapped around him, pressing him close and rubbing his back, the rough brush of whiskers scraping his forehead distracting him from the tight ache in his chest. The attack subsided, breath wheezing through his mouth, a trickle of sweat working its way down his face.
“Did you take your medicine?” Shunsui asked him quietly.
“Of course,” Ukitake took a deep, calming breath, finding his center, relaxing against Shunsui’s broad warmth.
Thick fingers twisted in his hair, slowly raking through it. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have pushed so hard.”
Ukitake shook his head. “No, no I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
“All our years together and your preferences have never changed,” Shunsui chuckled.
Ukitake pushed back, reaching a shaking hand out to slowly stroke the shell of Shunsui’s ear. The Eight Division Captain closed his eyes, something akin to a purr working its way from his throat. “Neither have yours,” Ukitake returned.
“We’re just two old, stubborn men,” Shunsui rumbled.
Ukitake laughed shakily, his breath catching as Shunsui swept him and the sheets up, marching outside into Ukitake’s private garden (another perk of being a senior captain). Shunsui stopped purposefully beneath the shade of one of Ukitake’s trees, settling in the grass and situation Ukitake in his lap, leaving the man no room for argument. He wrapped the sheets around them, forming a cocoon before leaning back against the tree, Ukitake shifting to nestle against him.
“So, what story did you have to tell Nanao to even slip away from her?” Ukitake asked. Despite Shunsui’s earlier assurances that even Nanao could not keep him from Ukitake, the Thirteenth Captain knew that Nanao’s single purpose in life was to keep Shunsui on track, long-standing love relationship or no.
“What makes you think I had to make up a story?” Mock hurt colored Shunsui’s words.
“Because she wouldn’t let you sneak away for a whole day with me otherwise.”
A pause sat between them, broken by Shunsui’s sigh of submission. “Do you want the short or the long version?”
Ukitake closed his eyes, luxuriating in his lover’s hold. “The long version.”
Shunsui chuckled, rubbing Ukitake’s sides, his smooth voice drifting through the warm air, his scent wrapping around Ukitake, his body the perfect pillow. A weight lifted from Ukitake’s shoulders, his body felt light, the burn in his lungs fading. Everything outside of them faded, vanished somewhere beyond the border of the sheet wrapped around them. Shunsui’s voice came in a constant stream, a soothing burbling.
His eyes grew heavy, his breathing coming smooth and even, the actual meaning behind Shunsui’s words becoming lost. Darkness pressed at corners of his mind, calling him, egged on by the slow glide of Shunsui’s calloused palms along his sides. He made a final turn against Shunsui, inhaling his scent, exhaling slowly, eyelid pressing down…
……
Shunsui looked down at his lover, falling silent and slowly pulling a stray white hair away from Ukitake’s forehead. He looked best when he slept, the pain of his illness not so apparent upon his face, his shoulders slumped in peace rather than weariness.
He leaned back against the tree, his hair tickling his shoulders, bark biting his back. He closed his eyes, listening to the serene silence of Ukitake’s garden, concentrated on the steady rise and fall of his lover’s chest. These days they spent together came to far and in between now, their duty to Soul Society usurping their own devotions to one another. They both accepted the situation; it wasn’t like either was ignoring the other. Nonetheless, it didn’t make choosing their duty over themselves any easier.
It was why, despite Ukitake’s obvious doubts, Shunsui was willing to make up stories to tell to his vice-captain and would, in fact, dig his heels in and buck like the most stubborn of mules if Nanao tried to drag him away. He might not go so far as to draw his zanpaktou on her, but he had no qualms over pulling rank in order to savor these short moments of serenity.
At his age, he thought he rather deserved them, as did Ukitake. Call it selfish, but he believed that. And he stuck to his beliefs.
Ukitake sighed against him, shifting in his sleep, face nuzzling Shunsui’s chest. He couldn’t help but smile at that, bending his head, burying his face in Ukitake’s hair, filling his nostrils with the smell of soap and apricots. Really, why did he bother telling Ukitake his stories anymore? He never staid awake for them.
“Knew I should have stuck with the short version,” he murmured, though the smile never left his face.
Pairing: Shunsui x Ukitake
Rating: PG-13
Done for: prof_ryoki
The thing about being one of the longest standing captains in Seireitei was you got away with several things. For once, delegating a majority of your work to your vice-captains was permissible, especially if you used the ‘I’m feeling a bit down today’ excuse accompanied with a history of chronic illness and upright morality that meant you couldn’t possibly be lying. Ukitake did not use this excuse often, bordering on the brink of never, but every now and then he honestly just wanted a day to sit and drink tea and read a novel and not think about his vice-captains’ bickering or the pressure of being a Captain in a wounded Soul Society.
For another, it meant no one questioned the fact the Captain of the Eighth Division came to visit on regular basis, especially during these ‘I’m feeling a bit down today’ days. It made perfect sense to the younger Shinigami that the two oldest Captains, aside from the Commander himself, would take days to just talk and reminisce and ‘rest their old bones’.
Ukitake highly doubted any of said younger Shinigami expected the Captain of the Thirteenth and the Captain of the Eighth to have made love.
The entire scenario was not new to Ukitake. Through dropped hints in their passing conversations, Ukitake informed Shunsui of the day he planned to take off, Shunsui inevitably appeared, and they spent what part of the day they could being the couple they were. Long ago they agreed to keep this part of their ‘friendship’ secret, unsure how Soul Society would take two of its most respected Captains being in love. The Commander was aware, of course, as was Shunsui’s vice-captain, Nanao, but then again she knew everything about Shunsui because if she didn’t Ukitake figured Shunsui would have been court-martialed more than once on moral grounds.
The soft brush of whiskers floated down Ukitake’s back, paw like hands stroking his sides and thighs. He chuckled, turning over onto his back, looking up at the face of his lover. Shunsui’s brunette hair still remained plastered to his face from sweat, the rest unbound around his shoulders in soft waves. His face seemed softened in the aftermath, the deep lines beneath his eyes somewhat less noticeable, his lips quirked up in a real smile. Ukitake reached up, running his fingers through Shunsui’s hair, loving the way the man’s hair felt against his skin. His flesh still tingled from his touch, sweet spasms of heat flushing his body, his core feeling bruised and raw still (but in the best possible way), his buttocks stinging from Shunsui’s passionate grip, his lips sore and swollen from frantic kisses.
Shunsui leaned his head into Ukitake’s hand, his whiskers rubbing against Ukitake’s arm, sending little shocks of pleasure running through the white-haired captain. It was moments like this, these moments of peace and loving comfort that Ukitake craved most. To often Soul Society found itself under threat, Aizen’s betrayal looming over them all. More so, he found getting up each morning more difficult: his limbs felt heavy, the air like gravel running down his throat when he breathed. It was only these moments with Shunsui, their stolen moments of passion and laughter, that kept the disease from claiming him, kept him from succumbing.
“You’re thinking sad thoughts again,” Shunsui leaned down, brushing against Ukitake’s lips feather light.
Ukitake smiled, pressing his face to Shunsui’s chest, breathing in his scent - musk, sweat, sakura, and sake. “Nanao disrupting us is a sad thought.”
Laughter rumbled through Shunsui’s chest, bubbling up rich and deep. “Nanao wouldn’t dare. She’s a fine lady, but there are simply some things I won’t allow.”
“How much paperwork did you leave her to come see me?” Ukitake asked, leaning his head back on the pillow to look up at Shunsui.
Shunsui grunted, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll pull a long night.”
Ukitake laughed, the moment soured as his breath caught, lungs fighting for air, body quaking with each desperate heave. Strong arms wrapped around him, pressing him close and rubbing his back, the rough brush of whiskers scraping his forehead distracting him from the tight ache in his chest. The attack subsided, breath wheezing through his mouth, a trickle of sweat working its way down his face.
“Did you take your medicine?” Shunsui asked him quietly.
“Of course,” Ukitake took a deep, calming breath, finding his center, relaxing against Shunsui’s broad warmth.
Thick fingers twisted in his hair, slowly raking through it. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have pushed so hard.”
Ukitake shook his head. “No, no I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
“All our years together and your preferences have never changed,” Shunsui chuckled.
Ukitake pushed back, reaching a shaking hand out to slowly stroke the shell of Shunsui’s ear. The Eight Division Captain closed his eyes, something akin to a purr working its way from his throat. “Neither have yours,” Ukitake returned.
“We’re just two old, stubborn men,” Shunsui rumbled.
Ukitake laughed shakily, his breath catching as Shunsui swept him and the sheets up, marching outside into Ukitake’s private garden (another perk of being a senior captain). Shunsui stopped purposefully beneath the shade of one of Ukitake’s trees, settling in the grass and situation Ukitake in his lap, leaving the man no room for argument. He wrapped the sheets around them, forming a cocoon before leaning back against the tree, Ukitake shifting to nestle against him.
“So, what story did you have to tell Nanao to even slip away from her?” Ukitake asked. Despite Shunsui’s earlier assurances that even Nanao could not keep him from Ukitake, the Thirteenth Captain knew that Nanao’s single purpose in life was to keep Shunsui on track, long-standing love relationship or no.
“What makes you think I had to make up a story?” Mock hurt colored Shunsui’s words.
“Because she wouldn’t let you sneak away for a whole day with me otherwise.”
A pause sat between them, broken by Shunsui’s sigh of submission. “Do you want the short or the long version?”
Ukitake closed his eyes, luxuriating in his lover’s hold. “The long version.”
Shunsui chuckled, rubbing Ukitake’s sides, his smooth voice drifting through the warm air, his scent wrapping around Ukitake, his body the perfect pillow. A weight lifted from Ukitake’s shoulders, his body felt light, the burn in his lungs fading. Everything outside of them faded, vanished somewhere beyond the border of the sheet wrapped around them. Shunsui’s voice came in a constant stream, a soothing burbling.
His eyes grew heavy, his breathing coming smooth and even, the actual meaning behind Shunsui’s words becoming lost. Darkness pressed at corners of his mind, calling him, egged on by the slow glide of Shunsui’s calloused palms along his sides. He made a final turn against Shunsui, inhaling his scent, exhaling slowly, eyelid pressing down…
……
Shunsui looked down at his lover, falling silent and slowly pulling a stray white hair away from Ukitake’s forehead. He looked best when he slept, the pain of his illness not so apparent upon his face, his shoulders slumped in peace rather than weariness.
He leaned back against the tree, his hair tickling his shoulders, bark biting his back. He closed his eyes, listening to the serene silence of Ukitake’s garden, concentrated on the steady rise and fall of his lover’s chest. These days they spent together came to far and in between now, their duty to Soul Society usurping their own devotions to one another. They both accepted the situation; it wasn’t like either was ignoring the other. Nonetheless, it didn’t make choosing their duty over themselves any easier.
It was why, despite Ukitake’s obvious doubts, Shunsui was willing to make up stories to tell to his vice-captain and would, in fact, dig his heels in and buck like the most stubborn of mules if Nanao tried to drag him away. He might not go so far as to draw his zanpaktou on her, but he had no qualms over pulling rank in order to savor these short moments of serenity.
At his age, he thought he rather deserved them, as did Ukitake. Call it selfish, but he believed that. And he stuck to his beliefs.
Ukitake sighed against him, shifting in his sleep, face nuzzling Shunsui’s chest. He couldn’t help but smile at that, bending his head, burying his face in Ukitake’s hair, filling his nostrils with the smell of soap and apricots. Really, why did he bother telling Ukitake his stories anymore? He never staid awake for them.
“Knew I should have stuck with the short version,” he murmured, though the smile never left his face.