Suì-FēngXUrahara
Warnings: Casual mention of naughty things, dubious amounts of morals, drinking, lots of mention of sex, also swearwords.
Time: After Aizen's defeat, not really cannon.
Song inspiration: Diary of Jane by Breaking Benjamin and Casual Sex by My Darkest Days
Summary: Suì Fēng denies it, Matsumoto calls her out on her bullshit, and Urahara makes tea, and other things. Toshiro wishes he could have a normal, productive day.
Weee! First One-shot! And first citrusy-thing! Caution, this one gets kinda…. yeah… But no actual sex, it's still quite 'M' though. First romance and citrus content, also. This idea wouldn't leave me alone… Also, I tried unreliable narrative, which my english teacher was lecturing about, so yeah… Take that english teacher, I did learn something! And I used it to make suggestive fanfiction! Yeah! Anywho… on with the story.
She hated him. That was important, probably. What they had was not love, god no. They were not even friends. She wanted him six feet under and pushing up daisies. The only thing keeping her from fulfilling that wish was that he was friends with Yoruichi-sama, her idol and surrogate sister. When asked why she hated him so much she would spout off that he was lazy, or messy, or too eccentric. But, to tell the truth, she didn't know why. She just did. His everything set her off and left her hot and frustrated. He just had no right to be so… so… ...something all the time! Though they did do one thing together without baiting and attempted murder. It was nothing, really. Really. They were not 'going out'. All it was really, was a one-night stand. An inexplicable, totally uncalled for, how-the-hell-did-this-happen, one night stand. It just happened. One minute she was yelling at him, the next they were in a closet and removing clothes. That has happened more than once. For over five years.
When he ran off, she thought good riddance, and was most certainly not feeling a pang in her chest. Nope, none at all. Any crying done that night and after was completely for Yoruichi-sama. Certainly not for him, the bastard. They were merely scratching an itch, right? They very rarely stayed the night and slept together. If they did, she most certainly wouldn't admit, even to herself, that it was the most restful sleep she had ever gotten. It was just sex, really. Yoruichi-sama's teasing about her liking him did not scare her senseless at all. Nope. Her 'stalking' certainly didn't say anything. Nor did her insistence that he stay in the second, and close by. She most definitely didn't take up a partner during those years because she only wanted him. That didn't mean anything! She wasn't uptight and bitchy for those 100 years because she was pining or because she hadn't gotten any. Nope, not at all. That heated feeling that made her breathing quicken was nothing more than extreme irritation. Nevermind the fact he was the only one that triggered it. Suzumebachi laughed at this, but she still denied it wholeheartedly. She did not love him! She did not miss him! Wet dreams proved nothing! Many cold showers after much thought of him proved nothing also! That's all there was to it. Suzumebachi begged to differ. A lot.
It all started with Matsumoto, because really, out of the entire Shinigami's Women's Association, she was the self-appointed 'relationship guru', and biggest gossip. Matsumoto had gotten it into her head that she needed to relax and stop being so uptight. She wasn't uptight. No, really. Matsumoto ended up dragging her to a bar, despite many protests and a few threats of mass destruction, and sat them down in the back. She didn't like to drink all that much, but Matsumoto insisted, and what Matsumoto wants, Matsumoto will eventually get. That's how she ended up kinda drunk.
She was such a light-weight it wasn't even funny. She could drink maybe two ounces of sake before she really should not be using shunpo, or even be anywhere alone. Then Matsumoto started the questions.
"You know what you really need?"
"Less alcohol?"
"A boyfriend!"
Oh hell, not this again. Every few years or so, someone, either Matsumoto or her clan, would take it upon themselves to try to get her to date someone. It always ended badly. She just didn't need nor want a boyfriend, that's all. Suzumebachi giggled in the back of her conscience. 'You just keep telling yourself that Shaolin...'
'hush you' she growled back. She just sighed and said, "No I don't."
Matsumoto was not to be deterred, "You must find someone attractive! Come on! Were alone, and both adults here, you can tell me!"
Now she meant to say, 'No one, damnit!' but it came out instead as, "I don't like him, damnit!"
...Damnit. Matsumoto certainly wouldn't drop it now. And thus, true to form, she smiled rather terrifyingly, and said innocently, "Who is this 'he' person?"
She said perhaps a little too quickly, "No one!"
Matsumoto leaned closer, "Oh really?"
A blush started to creep up on Suì-Fēng. That peculiar feeling she associated with Urahara appeared. Again the alcohol made a mess of her words, and instead of changing the subject like she would have done if more sober she instead said, "No one you know."
Matsumoto was winning this contest of wills with her a little more than tipsy. She was giving up valuable information! Matsumoto grinned more, "Pray tell what 'you know' means..."
She probably shouldn't have sipped sake to avoid answering. Matsumoto huffed, "Come oonnnnn Suì-Fēng! Tell Ran-Chan who makes you feel hot and frustrated!"
That hit way too close to home for comfort, and as she was drunk, and thus unable to shut up, "I thought that was hate."
Matsumoto stared.
Hell.
Matsumoto then shook her head and giggled, "Alright, who taught you about love?"
"er- someone's supposed to teach you?"
That alcohol was going to be the death of her. Or, at least her pride. Matsumoto just pet her on the back in a sympathetic manner. Then Matsumoto thought to herself aloud, "lets see, people you hate…. Criminals…Hollows….. um," Matsumoto thought for a moment, then her face lit up with a triumphant smile, "Oh! Urahara!"
Hell. She groaned and slumped against the table with a glare and a light flush. Matsumoto took on a serious pose, that was ruined by her massive smile.
"So."
"...what?"
"Tell me your impression of him, or a story."
"Do I have to?"
"Yes."
"He's lazy and irritating."
"...and?"
"I hate him."
"You confused hate with love, Suì-Fēng-chan, try again."
"I am not in love with him!"
The fact this was accompanied by a rather deep flush, and her voice was a little bit higher than normal didn't help her argument. Matsumoto giggled, "Looks like we found a winner! Now, how did you meet?"
"...Yoruichi-sama."
"Oh, come on! Give me some story! Like when and where, and maybe something in between!"
Suì-Fēng was a little too tipsy to actually process the fact that Matsumoto would probably try to 'help' her after this. she kept talking, slurring her words every now and then, "Back over a hundred years ago. He was third seat, and I lieutenant. He was Yoruichi-sama's friend from when they were children. I remember her telling me after Aizen left that they were related or something. He was promoted to captain and god I hated him-"
"Your mixing hate and love again!" Matsumoto sang.
"...No?"
Matsumoto giggled. This was almost too easy for her. It was one of the reasons she loves sake so much! It helped her learn all sorts of things. She grinned, and set to work.
#####
About two hours later and drunker than she had any right being, Suì-Fēng was in front of Kisuke's door being held up by Matsumoto around sunset. Kisuke was living in the soul society now as the 12th division captain, as Kurotsuchi was back in the maggots nest like he belonged. Matsumoto knocked on the door cheerfully, oh kami she knew she would have such a horrible hangover… Some muffled footsteps echoed from his quarters, and the door slid open. There Kisuke was, in all his glory. He was wearing his absurd green and white hat, and a matching yukita. Before he could say anything Matsumoto cheerily proclaimed while shoving Suì-Fēng at him, "You two work out your problems! Bye!"
She shunpoed rather sloppily away. Hell.
##############################################################################
Urahara was a respectable man who, while is slightly perverted, certainly wouldn't take advantage of a drunk woman. Suì Fēng had been dropped off, or abandoned, as one could look at it, by Matsumoto. She was far more drunk than he had ever seen her, and concluded he would place her in the spare room and deal with everything in the morning. She was flushed and rather unsteady, considering she was leaning heavily on him. That brought back memories…. Oh no, Nononono…. Redirecting. Redirecting! That's not something to think about right now. He liked those times. She would stop fighting him at every turn and just submit. It was glorious. And really hot. But those times were over, right? Ah, well, they were overdue for a talk, and that would happen in the morning. So Urahara gently carried her off the the spare room bridal style, and set her down. Idly thinking that she still smelled of jasmine and danger, even under the liquor-smell. She really was quite cute when she wasn't scowling… He had fallen in love her, not that he would say that out loud….
##############################################################################
Suì-Fēng awoke from a nice comfortable dream about bunnies, of all things, to a headache and an unfamiliar room. 'What... the hell…?'
.
.
.
.
*cue panic*
Fuck! Hell hell hell hell hell! This wasn't her bed! Think! What happened!
The memories came back, Matsumoto's prying, and her subsequent plans. Urahara courteously not doing anything. Then carrying her…
Ah, Shit. She was going to kill Matsumoto.
She got up slowly and looked around. Then walked out to the living room where a too cheerful to be allowed Urahara was milling around making tea. God, this was too close to home. He looked her way and asked, "Sleep well?"
She was not sure how to respond and so she nodded. The atmosphere starting to get rather uncomfortable.
He handed her a cup of tea, him already having one, and continued his rummaging. having nothing to say she just slowly drank it in uncomfortable silence.
.
Huh.
.
He remembered that she liked honey in hers. He suddenly exclaimed, "Ah-hah!" and pulled out a box of ...cookies? They were mint-chocolate chip. He took one out and stuffed it in his mouth. He then held the box out to her. There was a pause.
She took one.
A minute passed of sipping tea. During that minute it got considerably more awkward. Neither of them wanted to talk. Suì-Fēng then blurted out, 'This was all Matsumoto-san's fault."
.
.
.
Urahara blinked then smiled beneath his absurd hat., "mmm.. I supposed so."
She really hated that hat. She wouldn't admit why, but it was because it shaded his eyes. They were a pretty storm grey… Dammit… Now was not the time… Suzumebachi laughed. They sipped more tea. Then it was Urahara's turn to break the awkward silence.
"She did have a point that we need to talk though."
Aw, Hell…
She had been avoiding him for precisely this reason. It was so damn awkward. Mostly because she was horrible at social things, and he liked dancing around problems.
Also the sex.
That was important, because they hadn't been really alone together since before the… incident with the vizards. They usually don't talk to eachother. And they had been having sex. That makes conversations awkward. Really awkward.
Because of the sex.
The cookie wasn't bad. but she wasn't going to tell him that.
##############################################################################
Kisuke was musing. He found when she was not angry she look far too adorable to be allowed. When she was angry she was beautiful. He wondered what she would look like when she smiled. There was no winning, he was in love. Now as a shifty person who was an incurable pervert and running from the law until a short while ago, he tended to try not to let feelings get in the way. However this not quite unwelcome spark of 'I wouldn't mind living with you forever' had made it's way into his heart, and then 'L' word had followed. However she had been, ever since the battle and defeat of Aizen, avoiding him. He knows her way of dealing with non-life-threatening problems is to repress and ignore them until the last possible moment. But that doesn't mean it didn't hurt a little.
So, they really had to talk. He knew her rather well, well, as well as you can know such an introverted person, and she has been more twitchy than normal, so something's up…
They were sitting on a couch rather close. The box of cookies and a few inches between them, as they drank tea. He spoke,
"So."
"Yes?"
"...Why don't we each take turns asking each other no-off-limits questions and answering them?"
"...What."
"You can go first."
"...Fine. Why did you make the hogyoku?"
"I wanted to see if I could. I'm not proud of it. Why do you dislike your bankai?"
"It's loud, heavy, and flashy, and it goes against my principles. Why do you wear that hat?"
"Because I can. Have you tried training it? Because bankai's can change forms that way"
"...No. I'll ask Suzumebachi later. Why were you running a candy shop, anyway?
"Because it makes a excellent cover. What's the story with last night?"
"...Matsumoto dragged me to a bar. We talked. She got ideas. End of story. How are you related to Yoruichi?"
"First cousins. Why do you hate my hat so much?"
They had inched closer sometime during the exchange, and now were sitting side by side. Cookies in Kisuke's lap and mostly forgotten. She glanced and him, and then away, blushing. She mumbled something under her breath and more clearly said, "Why do you purposely try to make me angry with you?"
Kisuke took off his hat and set it on the coffee table. Then he smirked, "Now, now. I didn't hear the answer to that last one. I won't answer until you do."
Now he really wanted to know.
##############################################################################
Suì-Fēng was at a stand-still. On one hand she wants to have the answer to a hundred-year-old problem. On the other, her pride would take a beating. And the whole, 'I might be in love with you' thing was fairly new in her mind, so that was making this whole situation too touchy-feely. There was a overlay of warm fuzziness in her mind that was making it hard to concentrate without thinking about all of their ...encounters. She decided to take a leap of faith, heavily aware how flushed she was.
"...I… um, like-your-eyes-cause-they're-pretty…"
"You're beautiful when your angry."
The both of them were now pressed against each other. The fuzzy feeling was intensified, along with the heavy hot feeling. She idly remembered that she'd never been kissed, well if hickeys in varied places didn't count. Kisuke set the cookies down. He tasted like mint and honey.
She didn't go to work that day, neither did he.
##############################################################################
One Toshiro Hitsugaya was doing his paperwork in his office later that evening when he felt another captain approaching. Matsumoto was lazing at her desk, only the first ten forms done. She looked up as the door slammed opened. Suì-Fēng stood in the entrance. She was slightly flushed and a little ruffled looking. Also rather annoyed. Toshiro had a feeling in his gut that it was entirely Matsumoto's fault.
She looked over at him, "I'm borrowing your lieutenant."
Well, she wasn't doing any work anyway….
Sui-Feng stalked over to Matsumoto's desk. Matsumoto grinned sheepishly and said, "Problem solved?"
Toshiro braced himself for the yelling fit.
She glared back, "Yes, but I don't know whether to kill you or thank you."
Well, that was unexpected. He took another sip of tea, savoring the flavor-
She stalked back out, pausing at the doorway to growl,
"But don't ever play matchmaker again."
He choked as Hyorinmaru's laughter echoed in his head.
~END~