Supposedly a part of my Kenpachi/Jushiro collection of one-shots, but I decided to just separate them. Did some minor changes.

The Only Exception

Ukitake Jushiro was well-known as one of the Seireitei's most eligible bachelors, and also the Gotei 13's old, emaciated hermit.

Of course, he wasn't as old as everyone thought him to be. He just had the look of a patient suffering from an illness that lingered since gods-knew-how-long, with pale skin and a slightly leaner body than was favourable for captains with spiritual pressure as massive as his.

Many people often bombarded him with questions as to why he wasn't married yet. Weren't there many women around the Seireitei? Weren't there any suitable enough to become his bride?

With a polite smile and a thank you for their concern, Jushiro waved them away.

It had been years, but Jushiro still remembered the days filled with crises that poisoned his family. He had only been a boy when his mother left them and ran away with a secret lover that she had been hiding all along. His father had found out not too long after she started the affair, but he chose to remain silent for fear of ruining their marriage and the family, as well as to not humiliate his status as head of one of the noble families. Jushiro had heard his parents arguing one night when he couldn't stay asleep because of his illness, and the words they spat at each other weren't very much gentle to the ears.

Since then, with his father's grief-stricken face implanted in his mind when his wife abandoned them, Jushiro had built a wall between himself and the outside world. He had to be strong for his siblings, and when their father finally gave into old age, he took over the position as head of the Ukitake family.

That wall had protected him from the nasty beatings love condemned to those struck with the Arrow. He had watched as his friends and companions suffered broken hearts, faking a smile and trying as hard as he could to lessen their burdens. But, whenever he was involved in such a situation, the burden that weighed upon his own shoulders doubled with each tear his companion shed. Each drop reminded him of his father, how he cursed at the howling wind when he thought his children weren't looking.

Jushiro didn't want to be like him. He didn't want to be taken as a fool of love, a loser in the game who emerged with nothing but pieces of his heart in his hands. But, despite telling himself that he was content with being alone, satisfied that he had no one there to care for him except his old classmate Unohana, he knew deep down that he was merely lying to himself – a hermit living in denial.

Nobody wanted to experience a broken heart, a crushed soul, and Jushiro himself didn't want to take the risk of opening his own heart to someone who had equal chances of embracing it or squashing it.

But Jushiro found his defences pierced through when one such man entered his life. It had been slow – agonizingly slow – but eventually a relationship formed between him and the new captain of the Eleventh Division, and before long, he found himself in his bed, engulfed in his warm, strong embrace.

It had been hot, sweaty, and above all, passionate. The flame of desire that he never knew lived within him came to life as his skin came in contact with the other's, as the man's slightest touch sent shivers up his spine.

As he traced the long scar with a fingertip, visions of the night before flashed through his mind – the pants, the growls, the grunts, the scratches he received on his shoulder blades that stung a good deal whenever he moved.

And it was then, as Kenpachi opened his scarred eye to address his partner, that Jushiro knew love didn't always cause someone pain.

If one were to find the right person, happiness would follow, drowning them in bliss. Jushiro was certain that he had finally found his own paradise, and it was right there, being in Kenpachi's arms.

Nobody could lay a hand on him, nobody could get this close to him, no one else managed to break through the barrier he had so diligently built around himself.

But, as he felt Kenpachi's dry, chapped lips press themselves against his own, Jushiro's barrier collapsed, blown away by the passion shared in that kiss. He was the one capable of unmasking Jushiro, stripping him of his many protective layers, demolishing imaginary walls like they were nothing more than mere building blocks.

All Jushiro could do was submit to him, meek and immersed in his love for the man, wrapping his arms around him and bringing him closer with a content chuckle, because he knew that he would find no one else like him.

He was the only exception.

A review would be nice. :)