Here is another one-shot from my favorite pairing... I don't know how many I've got in my head, but as long as you don't mind reading them, I don't mind writing them...
Rating: R; contains suggestive themes and a little crude Renji language.
Disclaimer: Bleach and it's characters are the property of Kubo Tite... I (still) only make them... do things.
Also, I took liberties with the concept of Shibari... this is my take on the art form, apologies ahead of time if it offends you...
Vigilant eyes were sharp and alert, paying attention to detail, assuring just the right amount of tension was applied to the intricate knot he had just finished tying. Strangely, his fingers felt a little raw... having tied multiple knots atop each other in such a short span of time was not routine work for his hands; but for that matter, nor was wrapping his lover in red silk rope.
The porcelain noble was kneeling in the middle of his bedroom, stripped bare; yards of braided rope entwined his hard, aroused body. He did not fool himself; the heir was partial to nights like these, where his lieutenant's roguish behavior transferred into their nighttime activities.
Tonight, instead of tying his arms directly behind his back, his fukutaicho had used a different tactic. The noble's hands were tied behind his neck, elbows pointed toward the ceiling... giving him the sensation of being in an even more vulnerable state. The shibari knot was tied intricately around his wrists, the bundle itself pushing into a pressure point on the back of his neck... if he tried to move his hands, the silk brushed against his nape...and the oversensitive skin tingled. The remainder of this length of rope wrapped under his armpits, over the collarbone, keeping the wrists in their place.
His torso was also a treasure wrapped in rope. Multiple loops circled the muscular, yet slim chest. The first wrapped itself over his pectorals, brushing the topside of his nipples; the second wrapped around right under, eliciting pleasant shocks every time the ropes squeezed together...every time he breathed...they'd tighten and rub. A few more layers of silk also assured breathing itself would require a conscious effort on the noble's already distracted mind.
He could not move. He was kneeling on the hardwood floor; knees spread wide, ankles bound together behind him. The knots in this length of silk were a given around his ankles; and peculiarly, his lieutenant had tied a few knots to push against the arch of his feet and between his toes. As he twisted his right ankle to stimulate a little circulation, the captain gasped sharply... the pressure generated from the knot under his sole translated to an urgent tingle in his groin.
Interesting.... where had his fukutaicho learned this?...
"You like that one, Taicho?" a smug voice filtered into his preoccupied thoughts.
The rope that winds its way up his right leg runs over the calf and circles a few times around a lean thigh... eventually it wraps its way under him. The shibari knot is nestled up against his most sensitive skin and his inner thigh; behind the rock hard erection he has been sporting for the last half hour. At the juncture of his pelvis it continues toward the opposing side and upward, to wrap around his hips.
His back is rod straight, the aristocratic spine refusing to show even the slightest bit of weakness. He has been in this position for well over an hour now, and he can feel rivulets of sweat rolling down the length of his vertebrae. Every muscle is tight, strained. Wondrously, he can feel the pain of his screaming muscles converting itself into a natural high-- his endorphins are kicking in. The pleasure-pain principle is realized.
Renji cannot get enough of the sight before his eyes… black and white and red. He drinks in the vision of his captain, utterly bound and dependant upon him; yet still somehow proud and unwavering even in this yielding position. The redhead inhales deeply, nostrils flaring at the scent of the man on his knees. He smells a mixture of guardedness and exhilaration. He wants to lick at the alabaster skin, and taste the invigorating flavor of his lover… but that will come later. He grins devilishly, as he has bound his taicho in such a submissive pose; he is open and available to all the fukutaicho's wants and needs. Yet somehow, the lieutenant feels like he is the one being restrained….
"So..." he circles his captive, admiring his work, "...you want me to touch you... suck you...." a sultry rumble falls from full lips as he leans in close "...or fuck you?" he seductively growls into the noble's ear.
Defiant platinum eyes narrow back at him, a shiver induced by those words alone is barely suppressed. If it was at all possible, slender shoulders already pulled back by restrained arms, straightened even more. Not a sound escaped the moist lips, slightly parted only to allow the tied captive to pant quietly in the candle lit room.
Undaunted, the redhead reaches out to his stubborn lover, wanting to test the extent of his control. He runs a blunt fingernail from the shaky elbow down towards his underarm. A predatory grin surfaces at the involuntary muscle jerk reaction from the sharp stimulation.
It starts a cascading reaction... the arm muscles twitch and the fists clench. It brushes against the knot at his nape, causing a hitch and sharp inhale in the otherwise almost meditative breathing pattern. The involuntary breath causes the ropes along his chest to squeeze and pinch already over stimulated peaks... the noble writhes from the pleasure and his feet and toes curl... producing yet another jolt to his groin and his leg twitches. As his thighs tighten and contract, the knot down there pushes up and prods against his sensitive skin; and he cannot for the life of him hold back the long deep moan forced from his throat.
St-stop. Stop moving.
The noble is panting harshly, his eyes have fluttered shut. He must get his body to respond to the direction of his mind. He understands this domino effect... he just needs to remove one of the pieces and he can regain control... quickly.
"Don't fight it, Taicho...." a purr encourages; as a hand reaches out to push back the strands of wet hair sticking to his cheek and jaw. The redhead is eager; and wants capitulation.
His fukutaicho is too close… A warm wet tongue teases the auricle of his ear.
Cheater!
It is then, as Byakuya looks into smoldering red, he realizes that his subordinate had that look in his eye... that he's been watching him, like a tiger stalking his prey... not blinking, not missing a single twitch or breath. The voice had seemed calm and relaxed, but the crimson irises are feral and hungry. They burn his ivory skin with their fever heat... he can see that his fukutaicho is holding a tight reign on his own lust.
The lieutenant's movements are concise and restrained... although his bravado was crudely enunciated a minute ago, the calculating noble knows he may still have the upper hand. He may be the one physically bound tonight; but the Kuchiki knows that of the two of them, it is Abarai who is slaved to his own baser instincts.
...And what instincts those are.
To be touched by those hands roughened by desire long restrained; by want and need held to the breaking point. The strokes of his fingers will be just shy of painful; the scratches of blunt nails will leave red welts on the surface of his pristine skin. The normally teasing tongue and wickedly skillful mouth will be fierce and harsh, rough and merciless; his breath will be stolen from him... whimpers and moans pulled from a once hesitant throat will fill the quiet room. Sharp white teeth will bite at his lips, and his neck; bruises will be left to mark him as used property...and those strong muscles in those legs and hips will demand a rough pace meant to punish...and reward unconditionally.
It is that, that finally breaks his silence. He groans softly at the thought... that he is the submissive tonight... that is why he is bound... His anticipation of being penetrated and dominated excites his usually civilized mind and his pulse takes on an almost painful staccato rhythm.
It is not often that they play like this; it is not in his nature to allow others to control him. It is even more uncommon that he is bound to the extent that he is.
But even the First Son of the Seireitei... the heir to the First Noble House... even he, a Captain of the Gotei 13 must at times allow someone else to take control. Someone else he can trust enough to submit to... someone he can be human around. It is this man, Abarai Renji, who understands him, who allows him to be simply, Byakuya.
"Renji..." those mercury eyes seek out their partner's, his voice is thick with lust, anticipation... "I give…" his first words in over an hour sound foreign to even his own ears… "…and I want it all..."
Ruby eyes glimmer back, they promise nirvana… "You shall have it, Byakuya."