Without Complication, a bleach fanfic

This is my first time posting on this site...so yeah...be nice.

As of now, this story is just a oneshot taken from the plotline of a larger story. Your reviews will decide whether or not I actually continue...

Disclamer: This should go without saying, but I do not own bleach. I wish I did...until I do, I will settle for writing fanfiction.

"Drink up," a distinctly male voice hollered over the boom of loud bass.

Renji, the recipient, accepted the drink with a little less eagerness than usual; and that was cause for worry. As of late, the red-head had been in a horrible funk. For the past two weeks, he had been in a mental state similar to that of a pregnant female; without notice his emotions would change directions, leaving one on edge. He could seem fine when you were talking to him but then he also tended to blow up out of nowhere, anger rolling off his body in palpable waves. Even more confusing than his sudden fury, was who his rage seemed to be directed at.

Insert Ichigo Kurosaki, friend to Renji Abarai. It was no secret that the two had a strange friendship; one fueled by fists and insults. The only difference now was that each argument seemed genuine…despite its horrible one-sidedness. Ichigo, at a complete and total loss as to why the red-head would feel as such, took it upon himself to help his friend. While he hadn't done anything that he personally was aware of, it was clear that the lieutenant was absolutely livid about something that involved the confused strawberry.

And that was where the bar came in. Well…it was more of a club than anything. Loud music, enough colorful flashing lights to send the entire room into epileptic seizures, and a sea of bodies in gridlock; grinding against one another in a way that could only be described as sex with clothes on. The bar was just a bonus; sitting off to the side for all those too shy to dance. Its purpose? Inebriate you to the point of not caring so that you would actually go out and hand fun…and make a hefty some off of all the drinks you bought in the process. Its purpose tonight? Get Renji completely trashed so he would forget about whatever was ailing him. If that wouldn't work, get him drunk enough to pick up chick who hopefully had enough skill to make him forget all about his woes with a passionate, steam filled, lusty night.

At least that was the plan anyway.

Currently, Renji was staring at the offered glass with no intentions of actually drinking from it. In fact, his arms had yet to even move from their crossed position across his chest. Defiantly, he stared down at the glass; pinning it with a glare that quite possibly could have shattered it if in all reality, such a thing was possible. The shot glass was his current enemy, filled nearly to the brim with what looked like water. Psh…he knew better than that; that shit was poison. Or at least that's what it should have been called. In a few shots, that stuff would have you lying on your ass, shit-faced drunk with the vocabulary of an uneducated fool and the coordination of a newborn. Fuck that…he wasn't drinking anything like that…at least not tonight. The funny thing was, any other day, he would have downed contents of the glass, the bottle it came from, and ran off to live up the night all in one fluid motion.

"Oh come on Renji—" Said red-head's focus shifted to the one speaking, effectively shutting him up.

The death glare, which previously had been preoccupied with trying to shatter a glass full of poison, was redirected at Ichigo, and he could only wince in response. For a moment, the strawberry went wide eyed like a deer in headlights, not quite sure what he could say or do at the moment. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Renji looked away. Kurosaki, eternally grateful to no longer be the target of such a heated glare, breathed out a sigh that he could only hope no one noticed and took a sip of his own drink.

Chad, a hulking figure of sculpted muscle and deliciously curly hair, turned to his friend with a reassuring nod and a pat on the back. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

Renji couldn't help but smile. It was small, but it was there…despite his best attempts at stopping it. With a nod to his silent friend, Renji took his glass and downed it. After he slammed the shot glass down in a rather dramatic display of male gusto, he let loose a long sigh followed shortly by hearty laugh. 'Maybe this will do me some good,' he thought to himself before tapping the bar, signaling for a refill.

Ichigo, albeit hesitantly, poured Renji a second shot. Having yet to recover from the murderous glare that he was sure he didn't deserve, his brow knit in what could only be described as confusion. The look did not go unnoticed, and the fuku-taicho gave him a reassuring pat on the back. Peppered with a friendly chuckle, he supplied an apology, "Sorry about that…everything's cool now."

Despite how loose the alcohol had made the three, there was still a barely masked tension in the air. It was indeed true that Renji was feeling a bit more at ease, but whatever was bothering him to begin with must have been one hell of a problem since he still seemed to be upset. Oh sure, he was laughing and carrying one like any drunken fool, but there was no mistaking the glare that he would occasionally send Ichigo's way. The orange-headed wonder would only catch the heated gaze out of the corner of his eye, but by the time he turned to look at Renji, it was either gone or redirected at something else completely.

Eventually things had gotten to the point where he could no longer take. Just what could he have possibly done to make the elder man so upset? When he finally worked up the courage to ask, the red-head evaded the question with ease and left the bar. When Ichigo moved to press the matter, Renji was already gone; lost in a sea of bodies, not to be seen again until he finally tired of dancing.

Renji couldn't help but feel as if he had just dodged a bullet. From the way he had said, "Hey Renji…", he was sure Ichigo was going to ask him about the one thing that he really didn't wish to talk about. With just those two simple words, he felt his anger rise to almost unfathomable levels. Either he left or he'd snap and try and kill they poor guy. Thank goodness he was able to get away with everyone none the wiser. His face belied his emotions with its quant smile and soft eyes as he hopped off his bar stool and onto the dance floor in one smooth motion. His reiatsu on the other hand could have clearly given him away. Along with his anger, it spiked. It by no means spiked to some grandiose level but its change was great enough were it would not go unnoticed. Luckily for him, Ichigo was damn near an idiot when it came to sensing reiatsu. Chad on the other hand…well he did notice, and there was no mistaking the worried glance that he had sent in Renji's direction.

A shaky sigh fell from his lips as he once again gained control over his emotions. 'Yeah,' he thought, 'definitely dodged the bullet there.'

Akina Kusanagi, a 5'5" demoness in heels. Akina was dressed as the average young woman in a club. She donned an excessively short skirt, a tight shirt bestowing more cleavage than necessary, and high, leg accentuating heels. Her red, shoulder length hair was let loose as usual, yet firmly held in place by a black bucket hat (despite its plain design, it was a hat eerily similar to a good friend of hers).

She, like everyone else in the club, was looking to have a good time. For quite a while, she had been away from Japan, running around the globe doing only God knows what. She had only just returned about a week ago and already she was lonely. Already she was bored out of her mind. Normally she would take to bothering Kisuke, a friend of many years, but sadly he was busy. Or was he just too busy for her? It was quite possible for Akina was by no means easy to please. She had the attention span of a ten year old, the maturity of a five year old, and all of it was somehow packed within the body what looked to be a twenty-something year old. And let's not forget her perverse mind. It was that more than anything that drove the shop keeper wild. If he wasn't able to entertain her, then she took to entertaining herself. That in turn meant that she was going to play on every manly urge of his, baiting him to no end, and running off before he could even lay a hand on her. She practically drove him mad. All but laying herself out like a buffet waiting to be devoured and then denying him access.

After having been shooed out of Urahara Shoten, Akina took to the streets. She had been wandering around for quite a while before she came across Neon. The club had to have been new for she sure as hell never saw it before. She simply chocked it up to her having been gone for so long, tossed caution to the wind, and sauntered in and let the music take her.

Akina had been dancing with someone for quite a while. She didn't know who for they had just came up behind her and she never really bothered to look back. The man was a horrid dancer though, and she would have been gone a long time ago if he hadn't had a death grip on her hip. When he had finally loosened his grip enough to let his hands travel, she spun away and disappeared into the crowd, never once looking back.

For nearly an hour, Akina moved about the dance floor, her body moving of its own accord and dancing with any and all who were close enough to her. When in such a cramped area, no one could tell whose foot was whose, and what hand came from where, so naturally she had her share of fun. No, she was not juvenile about it; placing light chaste touches on one's shoulder, nor grabbing people in the most sexual of places and giggling like a school girl afterward. No, each touch was deliberate, sensuous. Not only that, but the contact was welcome. No doubt due to the sense of anonymity that permeated the place. Most didn't care what happened. Especially so when they knew that they would probably never see their mystery molester again.

Akina continued to dance amongst the crowd of people, scanning the bodies and faces of all that she could see clearly, looking for the next person she would dance with. She wasn't what you would call a shallow person, but when at a club, you had to be. It was far too loud to hold a real conversation, so personality mattered little. All that was important was that you could dance; and more importantly, look good doing it.

When she finally thought she found another interesting face, she went for it, only to bump into someone else in the process.

Renji made his way deeper and deeper in the crowd, trying his best to lose himself in the sea of people. When he had finally gotten to what he deemed a safe distance away from the bar, he simply stood there, not too sure about what he should do with himself. When he was just about ready to turn around and head back to the bar, he had been bumped into.

In a dance club, someone bumping into you wasn't uncommon. In fact, it happened every couple of seconds…minutes if you were lucky. What made this situation different was it had sent about a chain of reactions that would change the course of his night.

Judging from the height of the person and the deep grunt that followed, Renji could only assume that it was a male that backed into him. The force of the contact combined with his alcohol hindered coordination, sent him stumbling forward. At the same time, a young, sun kissed woman before him had suffered the same from the opposite direction, effectively knocking the two of them into one another. Renji's hand had shot out reflexively, grabbing the closest thing to him to stabilize his steps.

Akina had stumbled for only a moment before colliding into what she could only describe as a brick wall. She had fallen into the rock hard stomach of whoever was behind her and before she could react, his hand was at her hip, pulling her close.

If the man wanted to dance…then they would dance.

It took Renji a moment to realize what he had not only grabbed onto, but clutched to his body. When he did, it was too late to retreat. Already her hips had begun to move, grinding into him in a way no one before her ever had. And just like that, he was responding; rotating his own hips to match the speed and direction of the ones before him. When their rhythm was set and he no longer had to concentrate on matching her alternating movements, his hands went to town. In response, hers went to his neck, occasionally dipping back to play in the blooming ponytail of his hair.

A short gasp, followed closely by a very satisfied moan met his ears as the woman finally leaned fully into him. His hands had been trailing her legs, dipping beneath the folds of her skirt to play with the sensitive skin of her inner thighs before retreating to run their way up her sides and across her stomach. Never once had he touched over anything too personal. In fact, as close as she got to being groped was when his hand slid across her stomach and his thumb brushed bottom of her breasts. Yet in spite of it all, she felt like she was on fire. The gentle glides and feather like touches had sent her already sensitive nerves into overdrive.

A smug smile fell into place, knowing that it was he that was driving her wild…that it was him that had her moaning and groaning like she was on the verge of an orgasm. The moment was short lived however, for in a matter of seconds, the tables where turned.

All thoughts of her original target…the man who had caught her eye before she had been so roughly stumbled into, were the farthest from her mind at the moment. All she thought about was the mystery man…the one with devious hands of a sex good. In a matter of minutes he had Akina mewling, her cries begging for him to quit his torturous touches and teases and grab her already. When it seemed like he never would, she turned around intent on breaking the ice. This man, whoever he was, was leaving with her tonight whether he wanted to or not.

Upon turning around, Akina had been effectively shocked into a stupor. 'Dear God…this man is gorgeous!'

With a shake of her head and a smile that was anything but innocent, she returned to the warmth of his body; once again grinding her hips into his. When their pace was once again set, she went to work on him just as he had on her only a few moments prior. Her first order of business? Open that black button up of his. She knew from when she initially fell into him that he would have a chiseled body. Now she wanted to see it.

When she undid the top button and he made no move to stop her, she quickly made short work of the rest. His body was damn near orgasmic. Each muscle was perfectly sculpted to her liking. Toned but not overly bulky; he had a thin, but well built physique. If that wasn't enough, the tattoos that marked his body only highlighted his perfect build and had her all but gushing. In the process of roaming his chest and openly gaping, she hadn't realized that she had stopped dancing. It wasn't until he rather roughly ground his hips into hers and gave her ass a firm squeeze did she begin moving again.

"I take it you like what you see." He was all but oozing male pride. No matter, he had every right to be as confident as he was.

"If you only knew," she replied, all the while raking her nails down his back.

His response was a pleasurable hiss. It hurt, but he'd be lying if said it didn't feel good at the same time.

At the sound, Akina's head snapped up, taking in his facial features for the very first time. Just like his body, his face wasn't spared from the tattooing. They extended from his brows and went outward and up, eventually disappearing under a white headband and farther back into a thick mane of deliciously red hair. The facial tattoos were definitely something she wasn't used to, and would probably dislike in another man. However, with him, they worked. The combination of their tribal design and how the flowed back into his fiery mass of hair gave him an exotic appeal. One that she no doubt found to be extremely attractive.

Slowly, she traveled lower, following down his nose past tightly shut eyes, to a pair of lips that just begged to be kissed. Somewhere along the lines, he had opened his eyes and once again caught her staring. His smug smile returned, offering up a nice view of straight pearly whites. 'Damn,' she thought, 'Perfect down to even the smallest of details.'

So caught up in the view, she never noticed him bending to her level. Never felt him cupping her chin and tilting it up so she might look up into his eyes. "It's not polite to stare," he said, his lips mere inches from hers.

What happened next had not been a part of his plans. But he figured he deserved it for baiting her so. Besides, why would he complain? Seconds after the words fell from his mouth, hers were latched onto his. For a moment, he stood there in shock, his body frozen while she kneaded his bottom lip with her own. He was only able to respond for moment before she pulled away. He was about to reclaim her lips before they so suddenly went to his neck. Assaulting him with tongue, teeth, and lips and had moaning out incoherently as he was lost in an ocean of pleasure. Her tongue leaving a pleasantly slick trail from his ear lobe to his collarbone.

Akina had paused for only a moment to admire her handy work, and that moment was all Renji need to take control. A startled gasp escaped fell from her lips as one of her legs was hiked up and wrapped around his waist. The new position pressing his fast rising erection against her, driving her wild with every rotation his hips made. His other hand was at her back, alternating from traveling about her spine and grabbing her rear. And his mouth…oh God his mouth; it was hard at work nipping and sucking at her neck, traveling down past her clavicle and nipping the top of her breast. He would then reverse the process and repeat anew.

When the hand that was at her back had came around to her stomach and thrust up the front of her shirt, all hell broke lose. Next thing you know, her hand was between their legs, stroking his rocklike member through the cloth of his pants. From there, hands went everywhere, grabbing a hold of every sensitive body part within reach. It wasn't until an even bigger need arose that the two ran for the door and caught the first taxi that they could find. The poor driver had to deal with their lustful moans and rustling all the way to her apartment—a damn near ten minute ride.

When the reassuring click of her front door locking sounded, the two were on the floor, not even trying to make it to the bedroom. Clothing had been removed in such a flurry that all that could be heard aside from heaving panting was the sound of cloth ripping.

There was no need for foreplay; the two had been doing that all night. There were no second thoughts, no comforting glazes, nor asking if one was sure. There was only skin against skin; Renji sliding home on his first shot and earning them the delicious friction that they both craved. They weren't making love, and they weren't having sex. These two were fucking…fast and hard, crying out with no regard for anyone within earshot.

"Oh fuck!" She screamed, "fuck me faster…harder!"

There was no doubt that they had woken up several of the sleeping tenants on her floor, and there was definitely no doubt that there would be a pleasant ache downstairs the following morning…but nobody cared. All that mattered at the moment was how hard Renji could thrust, how loud she could scream, and that they both came that night. Intending to do just that, he had lifted her at the waist allowing for deeper penetration. The new angle had allowed him to hit that 'oh-so-special' spot, sending her over the edge. In the midst of ecstasy, her muscles clamped down around him tighter than ever, bringing them both higher and higher with every thrust. When they hit their peak, Akina came with a loud cry while Renji grunted and collapsed onto her moments later.

They laid there like that; Akina on her back and Renji laying comfortably above her for who knows how long. When Renji had finally moved to pull out, she let lose hearty moan—a signal for seconds. Renji wholeheartedly agreed, once again pounding into the small frame before him the minute he caught his breathe. The two continued as such for hours, christening various rooms, tables, and countertops about her apartment.

Sadly, when all was said and done, they parted ways. Numbers weren't exchanged, names weren't given…hell, they hadn't even said goodbye. Akina retired to her bedroom and Renji left the apartment and headed home. It wasn't the best way to end a passion filled night, but alas, that's exactly what had happened. There was no denying the fact that the two would think about each other for many nights to come; but that didn't change the fact that they would never see one another again. It wasn't a nice notion…but hey, that's how one night stands were. Sex without all the complications of a relationship.

Like I said before, if you review, I will continue.