A.N.:

Have to admit, I haven't wrote for the fandoms quite some time now, I'm more into original fiction now, and even this short one wouldn't have been written if not for the Aarin contest.

Betaed by the awesome fantasy028, all the remaining mistakes are mine.

Don't forget to review.

Stolen moment

Byakuya sighed silently and put the last paper he'd just signed on the pile to his right. He glanced to his left where his lieutenant's desk was.

The seat behind the desk was empty; that had become a habit lately.

Renji was on a mission in the 'outside' world again. He was probably with 'that' Ichigo Kurosaki.

Byakuya tightened his fingers around the pen, and his knuckles turned white before the tension in his body seeped away with two deep breaths.

It was January 31st today, his birthday, the day he'd been looking forward to since last year's February 1st, and it seemed that it was all for nothing.

All for nothing, because Renji wasn't here.

He let his shoulders droop, something he wouldn't do before anybody, but now in this moment it was somehow appropriate. It showed, as much as he would allow himself to show, his disappointment.

He glanced toward the window on the opposite wall. It was already dark outside; he should be getting home to that empty, cold house. He hated it. But at least his house had central heating and he a few rare memories to warm him in the cold nights. It was just… he thought that he would be able to make a few new memories today.

A sound of rushed steps and the feel of familiar reiatsu were the only warning, and Byakuya's lips curved into a small smile before the door burst open.

Byakuya's spine automatically straightened out and a blank mask descended onto his face, even when his heart did a little turn in his chest at the sight of crimson hair and black tattoos.

"Taichou." Renji grinned one of his cocky smiles as he closed the door and entered the room. "I thought I would find you here."

"Renji." Byakuya put his pen down in perfect alignment with his other stationery. "Shouldn't you be in the human world?"

"It's your birthday, Taichou. I couldn't miss our annual outing, could I?" Renji said. "I took a day off."

"You shouldn't have." And why didn't he know anything about it? Byakuya stood up and squashed the delight that started to bloom in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't special to Renji; it was just the way Renji was, he told himself.

"Maybe." Renji's grin widened. "But I'm here now."

"Yes, and since I've finished for the day," Byakuya said as he slowly walked around his desk, bypassing Renji and stopping by the door, before opening it. "We might go on a drink or two."

"Your treat?" Renji followed him.

"Of course." Byakuya nodded. It was always his treat, since the day Renji discovered that it was his birthday and Byakuya took him out for drinks. It was either that or listen to his 'subtle' nagging. And it somehow became a tradition which has been going on for a few years and that has made Byakuya's life more colourful, more fulfilling and a lot more complicated. He didn't want to get to know Renji; he didn't want to start liking Renji and he certainly didn't want to fall for Renji, but he did.

They were on their eighth glass - actually Renji was on his eighth while Byakuya was still on his third - he was reveling in the sensation of Renji's thigh pressed against his under the table, in the brush of shoulders and in the sound of the voice that was as slick as honey. Or rather, he tried to enjoy all that, because all the special feelings that Renji aroused in him were lost in the ninetieth repetition of Kurosaki's name.

Why did Renji have to get along with Kurosaki so well that it almost seemed like he was actually admiring that orange-haired kid? Did the fact that Kurosaki had defeated him, the head of Kuchiki clan, the man that Renji claimed he wished to surpass, had anything to do with it?

Byakuya took a sip of the sake, letting the liquid burn his throat and hoping that it would douse his growing annoyance towards Renji. This was their special time together and resentment did not belong here. Putting his hand on his knee, he inched it closer towards Renji until the side of it touched Renji's body, and it felt as though Renji's warmth was sipping into him through that small connection. He smiled inwardly.

After Renji's eleventh glass Byakuya decided that Renji was wasted enough not to remember anything tonight. It was time to get him home.

It wasn't hard to convince Renji that they'd had enough for the night and with his arm tightly wrapped around Renji's waist, he got Renji up and led them out of the establishment.

Renji leaned against Byakuya and a cascade of crimson hair fell over Byakuya's shoulder. He murmured something.

Byakuya's fingers itched to reach out and entangle themselves into those red, silken tassels, but instead he pulled Renji closer. He could feel the heat of Renji's body at his side, his mind memorizing the pleasure that touch sent up his spine.

They got to Renji's quarters soon enough, and before they knew it, they were already before Renji's door.

Byakuya opened it, led them in and closed the door behind them. It was only then that he released Renji from his embrace, reluctantly.

Renji stumbled in the middle of small room, where he sat down on the floor. He brushed his hair off his face, looked up at Byakuya and pointed at the low, dark brown cabinet that was on the wall on the right side of the door. "More sake, Taichou."

"You've had enough, Renji." Byakuya picked up the rolled-up futon that was beside the cabinet and laid it down beside Renji.

"No. For you." Renji said, before he lowered his head, his red hair covering his face like a curtain. He started to fumble with the sash of his uniform.

"I've had enough too." Byakuya took the bedding out from the lower drawer and proceeded to make the bed for Renji, who was still occupied with his sash and had now started to rant his favourite mantra about how he would surpass Byakuya some day. It made Byakuya happy.

"I can't let that happen, Renji." Byakuya cupped Renji's chin and titled Renji's face up. And he wondered if Renji knew that his fangs didn't just reach him. They had already cut deep inside his heart.

I love you.

"Some day." Renji grinned and pulled his head out of Byakuya's hold.

Never. He would never allow that, because as soon as that happened, he would lose his hold over Renji and Renji would be gone. And even now he might be losing him to 'that' kid.

Byakuya combed through Renji's hair with his fingers, their texture not as familiar to Byakuya's fingertips as he wished.

"Taichou?" Those warm red, brown eyes were looking at Byakuya again.

"Let me help you." Byakuya's fingers made short work of the knot on Renji's sash and soon Byakuya was folding the other's clothes into neat squares. He put them on the floor above the futon.

After Renji climbed onto the futon in his underwear and dove under the covers, Byakuya started slowly to rid himself of his clothes. His precious scarf was first, then his coat, the kimono shirt, the hakama... all of those ended up in a neat pile placed above the futon and kenseikan on top of them. He looked at Renji.

Renji was lying on his back, his red hair spilling over the pillow. One of his arms was beside his head and the other one by his side. He was already snoring like a baby.

Renji was fire and summer and he was ice and winter. They were opposite but he couldn't help loving Renji for it. Byakuya caressed Renji's cheek, wishing he were braver. If he were, he could just press that kiss he so wanted to on the redhead's cheek. Instead, he snuck beneath the blanket and cautiously inched toward him.

He put his head on Renji's chest and tossed an arm around Renji's waist. His touch was bolder than last year's. He could hear Renji's heartbeat under his ear and he could feel the warmth of Renji's body and if he had any less of self-control, he would have cried. Because this, this stolen moment of intimacy, was everything he had. It was the only thing that held him together in his empty existence.

Byakuya slid his palm over Renji's chest, his fingers tracing the black marks. This was his personal heaven and its time was limited. Always limited. Before the first ray of light would hit the window and light the room, he would be long gone.

So he fought against the sleep that was threatening to overcome him, hoping to prolong this precious time before it ended, because for the next year, he might not have a chance to repeat it.

The End