Summary: Hearing that his old classmate, Retsu, has been taking unusually frequent trips to the Eleventh, Jushiro inquires Kenpachi about it, and gets more than he bargained for.
One and Only
"Zaraki."
"What?"
"Are you...what is this news that I'm hearing of you and Retsu?"
"What?" Kenpachi turned around, hands still ruffling his hair dry with a towel, and fixated his gaze upon the bed. There Jushiro lay on his stomach, his chin resting on his forearms, eyes blinking up questioningly at Kenpachi. "The fuck're ye talkin' 'bout?"
Jushiro tried hard not to trail his eyes down low, as the man was still stark naked, coming out of the shower just minutes ago. Instead, he allowed his eyelids to drift to a close and tended to the disturbing thoughts now whirling around in his mind. "Well, I heard from Yachiru that...well, Retsu has been coming over to your division a lot lately, so I've been wondering-"
"Ye've been wonderin' what?"
At that snap, Jushiro looked up to find Kenpachi's fierce glare on him. His hands had ceased their work, now hanging by his sides, leaving the towel draped over his head. Those grey eyes of his gleamed through the shadows cast by the towel, and Jushiro couldn't help but shiver a little, but he steeled himself against it and went on. He knew that Kenpachi wouldn't act on him - unless he really pushed things way past his limits, during which case Kenpachi would do just about anything.
But before he could voice it out, Kenpachi had tackled the subject for him.
"I ain't gonna have anythin' to do with that woman even if she were the last goddamned shinigami standin'."
"Oh, really?" Jushiro said without thinking, and immediately he pursed his lips to avoid spitting out other, more hurtful things. Kenpachi, being a battle maniac, should have everything to do with those who were strong enough to fend for themselves, and this proclamation was out of character for him.
"Bastard," Kenpachi hissed, stepping towards the bed, spiritual pressure spiking dangerously, "ye don't believe me, eh?"
Jushiro got up from his position, sat up and backed away, taking all precaution not to provoke him any further. "I do, Zaraki, it's just that...it's just-" But he was cut off by the towel being launched at his face, and the next thing he knew Kenpachi was on him, between his legs, pinning him down, nudging the large expanse of maroon cloth out of his vision and kissing him hard.
"Asshole," he growled against Jushiro's lips, "don't listen t'anythin' 'Chiru says unless I say the same. The woman's only there t'fix my men. Fuckin' loyal, those dumbasses, ain't gonna go to the Fourth for treatment even if ye stick a goddamned hollow up their asses."
"Well that's..." But Jushiro found that he had no words left as he stared at Kenpachi, incredulous. Kenpachi, on the other hand, laughed, leaning in further so that Jushiro's laying on the bed, Kenpachi supporting himself with his elbows on either side of him.
"Ye should know this by now, dumbass." The tone in his voice was nothing but affectionate despite the curse as Kenpachi nuzzled Jushiro's white strands out of his face. "Pain in the ass is what ye are, Ukitake. Can't take a joke t'save yer life."
"I don't find this hilarity of yours funny, Zaraki," said Jushiro, snaking his arms around Kenpachi's waist, bringing him closer. "But I'm sorry."
"Cheh." Kenpachi pressed his lips to Jushiro's temple, fingers fiddling around with his hair. "I got you and 'Chiru and that's enough for me."
Jushiro can't help but smile at that as he brought his lover down for another kiss, this time a chaste one that quickly escalated into something more passionate, and he allowed himself to be taken right then and there, taken by his one and only.
Comments and corrections welcomed.