A/N: My first multi-chaptered fic ever. I take a moment of silence to be proud of myself.

This will probably die soon, but I wanted to try my hand at something that will actually challenge my 3-second attention span. I intended to write some more chapters before releasing it into the world, but, hey, maybe seeing it on my list will be enough motivation to keep it going on. [warning: It will most likely be plotless.]

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters mentioned in this story.

Title: Love and cats won`t come when called

Summary: Love is not an easy thing, but they`re trying.

Spoilers: no, it`s an AU.

Characters: Renji Abarai, Byakuya Kuchiki, Rikichi, mentions of Ichigo Kurosaki,

Rating: T for now, will raise to M if I ever get the guts to write smut AND do it tastefully.

Spray. Rub.

Renji was fascinated.

Spray. Spray. Rub.

Holy shit, screw that, he was fucking mesmerized.

The man he was watching intently was doing what he always did when the clientèle was scarce – rubbing clean the already spotless counter. Renji`s gaze followed every flexing of his long, aristocratic fingers, every flick of the wrist, every muscle that tensed on his forearm when he applied extra pressure on the wooden surface.

I`m a fuckin` stalker, born and blessed.

The guy was one of those oldschool waiters, with a long-sleeved immaculate shirt and a three-piece suit even in the most ungodly heat. Silver cuff-links and buttons. A tie. Perfectly polished Oxfords.

It was amazing, really, in this day and age, when bartenders and table attendants were crude teenagers with Metallica tees, ripped jeans and slimy hands.

But this man..shit. He was something different. He was oozing the scent of a forgotten era, when nobles still held tea dances, old folks still smoked cigars and went to horse races and beautiful women teased the male population by letting their ankles show from underneath their laced dresses.

Renji, who spent two thirds of his waking hours in front of hi-tech screens, watching bunches of digital info dancing around, found his aura intoxicating. Thus, he spent all his free time in this godforsaken bistro in the outskirts of Karakura Town, inhaling the presence of this guy like it were fucking ambrosia.

.

As a promising graduate of the Harvard Business School, Renji Abarai, broker extraordinaire, was put in charge with the Karakura branch of the biggest investment company in the country, Seireitei Asset Management. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, seeing that, for all its picturesque appeal and welcoming tranquillity, nothing like the hustle and bustle of Tokyo, thank ya, whatev`r `s up there, Karakura was a hotspot for financial transactions.

Renji, unlike his boss, thought the town was really pretty – surrounded by hills, but also close to the seaside, big enough to not get bored, although still small as for the people in the same neighbourhood to call each other by their names. Everybody was helpful to newcomers like him, his landlady was an absolute sweetheart ('Boss, I don`t fucking care. I`m not staying in the firm`s condos. Nope.'),plus, it was really bike-friendly, so he reignited an affair with his first love, cycling.

He discovered this place when he was biking aimlessly on the hills around Karakura, trying to get accustomed to the scenery. It was raining cats and dogs, his parka did zilch to keep him from getting soaked, his orange-headed assistant was driving him batshit insane and he had just lost a great deal of actions in a firm because some dickheaded punk forgot to sell at the right time. Long story short, his day was hell and he felt like complete and utter crap.

And then he saw it – the wooden sign imprinted with pink Old English letters – 'A thousand cherry blossoms'. It was really tiny, nope, 'intimate' would be politically correct, but it held a certain fascination to it. He pushed the sculpted doorknob and a bell gave out its dying moan, announcing his presence. A boy clad in a suit that was two sizes larger than his frame ushered him to a table and brought him a menu.

Renji got rid of his useless clothes and took the time to look around and inspect everything. Polished wooden furniture, probably cherry tree. Hurr hurr hurr, go figure. Silken (?) tablecloths, a glass display of the most mouthwatering sandwiches he had ever seen in his life, fine jazz music playing in the background. They were aesthetically pleasing, of course, but what amazed him the most was the fact that everything was pristine. Not a single stain on the tablecloths or on the hardwood floor. Not a speck of dust. No-thing.

And...wow. Wow. Wow, sweet mother of all that`s saint. Stop the car, I`m fucking shocked.

On the side opposing the entrance was a glass wall in an ashen frame and, past him, laid Karakura in all its splendid afternoon glory. Holy canole, I can see my house from here. And the Seireitei Towers. Pfft, the place would`ve looked better without them. And damn, is that the Kurosaki Clinic? It`s...

'aahr?' said a voice next to him.

'Wha`?' Then, in a desperate attempt to mask his upbringing and be civil, he corrected himself. 'I beg your pardon?'

The boy from before – apparently, his nametag read 'Rikichi' – let out a chuckle.

'I said "Pretty impressive, huh, Sir?". Man, I swear, you new customers are all the same, going 'oohs' and 'aahs' over the view. Uhh...with all due respect, Sir.'

Renji gave him a toothy grin and empathized.

'Ya don`t think it`s special because ya`ve seen it one too many times. But, damn, this is somethin` else!'

'I guess you`re right, Sir', he shrugged. 'Seventeen years of seeing the same thing every day kinda takes away the magic.' Eyeing the menu, he added, 'Have you thought of something to order, Sir?'.

The man was a bit taken aback by this.

'Ummm...huh...I dunno. Ya know what, I`ll let ya pick for me, how`s that?'

'Oh. Alright then, Sir. I`ll be back in a few.'

After ten or so minutes, he couldn`t actually tell, he was far too gone admiring the panorama, Rikichi returned with two plates and a cup of coffee.

'Here you go, Sir. The main dish is a French sandwich, it`s called croque-monsieur. Really, really good. Then, for dessert, taiyaki with raspberry sauce and a cup of coffee with two teaspoons of milk and three of sugar. Enjoy your meal, Sir!' Then he bowed respectfully and left him to his own devices.

Renji poked at the sandwich and took a tentative bite.

Holy shit, it`s heaven wrapped in cheese.

After long mind-numbing moments, he finished the taiyaki (perfect size, perfect shape, more than perfect taste) and the coffee (how the fuck did he know exactly how much sugar to add?) and called for Rikichi.

'Listen, kid...Rikichi. My tongue. Is tingling. That was the best snack I`ve had in my life. You`re a damned genius, you knew that?'

Rikichi blushed and looked down, his eyes tracing patterns on the hardwood floor.

'Ummm...Sir, I`m sorry, but the one who chose this for you wasn`t me. I`m really bad at guessing what the customers might like. But Byakuya-sama, see...He`s like a sorcerer or something. Like Harry Potter! No, like the Mirror of Erised in Harry Potter! He takes a look at you and knows exactly what you need before you can even imagine it. He`s really good, he`s the best at...'

The kid`s breath stopped in his throat when he saw that the man was laughing at him.

'Sorry, Sir. I tend to talk too much when I`m excited.'

'Naw. `S cool. You`re fun. So, Byakuya-sama, right? Hey, can you drop him a thanks for me?'

'Sure thing, Sir. He`s over there, cleaning the counter.'

Renji looked across the small room and his mind went blank. Behind the counter stood the most gorgeous creature that had ever walked the Earth. Almost as feeling Renji`s eyes on his body, he stopped the scrubbing and looked up.

Renji felt like drowning.