A/N: Since this is my very first attempt on writing a fanfiction and a yaoi one nonetheless, I'd really appreciate to read about your thoughts. So please read and review. :)
The sound of a hand rubbing impatiently over slick swollen flesh increased in volume and broke the otherwise eerie silence of the small room. Shaky knees were bent to give room for more to come. The body shifted under the thin crumpled blanket, shuddering from the emanating heat and the harsh treatment. A low sigh escaped parched lips. The finger playing gently with a pert nipple slowly wound its way down over sweat soaked heaving sides under tense buttocks to a pulsing waiting entrance. Sensually it circled the overheated puckered area, dipping softly inside the burning heat, pulling out slowly and pushing in again accompanied with a second digit.
"Mmhn… aah, Taichou!" the young Shinigami threw his head back and moaned hoarsely; paying no heed that someone could possibly hear him. Another two hard strokes over his sensitive length and the Sixth Division Fukutaichou twitched uncontrolled painting his sheets and flexed stomach with his hot creamy seed. Through clenched teeth he grunted a hushed curse then fell limply back down on his futon, panting rapidly.
While catching his breath he reflected the situation he got himself into. Again. Actually this was the forth night in a row where he couldn't find the much needed rest, where his mind abducted him to forbidden places and sceneries with a certain man he was absolutely sure would turn him to ash without fail only for considering him in such ways.
As soon as his breath left his lungs in a normal pace and minuscule shivers crept over his previously heated skin he knew his temporary flush was over. Reluctantly he opened his maroon eyes to find himself in the chilly bedroom of his apartment once more.
Why does it have to be you of all people?
Renji huffed indignantly and laid his unsoiled arm over his weary eyes. His other arm, covered with his sticky essence, reminded him to get himself cleaned and the covers changed before he could try to drift off to sleep. Yet, he couldn't shake off the lingering feelings those visions gave him. That silky ebony hair, like the swaying sea at night; those delicately sculpted features and the flawless porcelain skin, white like the moon. Kuchiki Byakuya had no idea of the scalding heat he could arise deep within his still so young lieutenant. Kuchiki Byakuya the man, utterly void of emotions and above all void of the tiniest bit of interest in Abarai Renji. For the serene noble he was as insignificant as the ceaseless passing of time in Soul Society. Maybe it was that very reason which kept the venom called Byakuya sipping little by little into his system and eating him away from the inside.
He exhaled a quivering breath between his parted dry lips. Somehow he felt like a moron for being such a masochist. Did he really have to torment himself with the pursuit of the unachievable? That man was by far beyond his reach. His strong-willed mind already knew, but what about his weak heart?
Yeah, I absolutely am a moron for imagining someone like him to even notice me beyond my work as his subordinate, if at all.
With a last long drawn-out sigh, the redhead tiredly made his way to his bathroom. Under the warm jet of water caressing his tattooed body, Renji's mind whirled once again about the one person occupying and infiltrating his every thought more and more.
