There was historical president for it, Byakuya knew. Samurai often took younger male partners. And a Shinigami was not too far removed from a Samurai. Still, that did not fully explain the emotions in his chest (annoying things) that fluttered like hell butterflies as his fiery-headed vice-captain licked his way down the spill of syrup coating his left nipple, before following the candy trail downwards.
"Not that ya don' taste nice on ya own," Renji had explained when he showed up with the small, golden bottle. "I jus' thought it might be nice ta try."
Byakuya had considered it for a few moments, enjoying the way that Renji began to squirm, before nodding his ascent.
Perhaps it was to reassert dominance that the partnerships were formed. He knew that Renji planned to surpass him, and he in fact supported his subordinate – not that Renji knew that of course. Wanting to surpass him would give the younger Shinigami something to strive for.
And becoming his… whatever he was… meant that it was increasingly less likely that he would have to worry about the former street kid's friendship with Rukia. Hisana's sister deserved better. Not that he could actually think of anyone who deserved her, but there was probably some man out there, and whoever he was he definitely wasn't Renji… whose lips were nice and firm around the base of his cock.
Byakuya bit back a moan – moaning was undignified – and watched Renji's head as it bobbed up and down, his hair shifting to alternately hide and reveal the bold tattoos on his forehead. Renji paused to lick a smear of syrup off of one pale thigh, and sparked an uncontrollable shiver.
"Feel good, Taichou?" he asked, raising his eyes to meet his captains.
Byakuya nodded. The lack of intimacy in the bedroom comforted him. In the long run, this would not mean anything. It was an arrangement, a way of easing the tension. There was no way that this would hurt when it ended.
