Rating: T
Disclaimer: Tite Kubo-sensei owns Bleach and its characters; I solely us them for writing funtimes.
Author's Note: The angst I've been making these days is freaking me out. But there is some fluffiness, so no worries.
Faded lapis eyes gazed afar, though at nothing in specific, as a pale hand softly gripped the sheet of paper he held in his hand a little tighter.
"Yo, Izuru —!"
He snapped out of his prematurely angry state, lips parting from his slight shock when a soft brush against his fringe caused him to look up.
"You done yet?" A deep, charmingly boyish voice inquired.
Abruptly, the young Shinigami began to fluster as a pair of onyx eyes held his gaze.
"H-Hisagi...?" He questioned, though it seemed fit for his conscious.
Warmly grinning, said navy-haired male crossed his arms over his chest and Kira felt his heart race when he happened to glance at a peach nipple peeking out of his loose shihakusho. Damned if he didn't look tantalizing.
"Sorry, thought you would've been finished with all your work by now." He sheepishly responded.
Chuckling softly, but anything from mirth, the blond reached over and pulled out a stack of papers from a drawer.
"I did, just not... my work... Heh." He replied just as well, scratching the back of his head for an imaginary itch.
Eyebrow quirked, Shuuhei asked, "Did you get any last night?"
Face flustering hot, the younger stuttered out incredulously, "W-what?"
Laughing at how sexually innuendo his statement came off as, Hisagi took a seat into an empty chair before the blond's desk and toyed with his inkwell idly.
"I meant any sleep, Kira. Did you get any sleep last night?" He answered, but his reiteration of the question was just as serious.
Blinking a handful of times, giving him an air of stupidity, the blond tilted his head and pondered for a moment. As far as Shuuhei was concerned, he had an adorable thinking face. Not that he would ever outwardly confess.
"Not… not particularly." Turning to face the navy-haired Shinigami once more, he added, "Why?"
Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Hisagi reached over and thumbed his usually pale face - now a renewed red.
" 'cause you have those dark lines that say just that." Pulling away to ruffle his hair, he continued, "You wanna' go out tonight?"
Immediately, the usually depressive melancholic face brightened more than significantly.
"S-sure!"
A wide, warm grin delighting his features, Shuuhei took the report and briefly gripped a slim shoulder.
"Great. See ya' later then!"
Kira wasn't completely sure, but if he didn't known better - the ninth division fukutaicho had swayed his hips in the most subtlety seductive of fashions as he left. If nothing else, in that now demented mind of his, it depicted the fact that his body already knew the ways of sex, with how he was salivating at the man's defined hips.
And orgasmically perfect sex, might he presumptuously add.
Chewing on his lower lip as he fiddled with his brush, he gently smiled at nothing in particular once the cause of his nightly emissions closed the door. The fact Hisagi was still willing to be seen in public with him — the fukutaicho whom so willingly aided the now defected Gin Ichimaru — only further made his heart flutter. Made him sweat profusely from his palms and knees weaken to jelly when he saw him merely walking.
Kira knew it was best to keep his love a secret this time around — because he understood, Shuuhei had also just experienced an equally devastating heartbreak recently. Therefore, he simply forced himself to believe that what he felt was not love.
It wasn't.
It was adoration; a deep, profound sense of caring and desire spawned from his once sinful ways. An idea the serpent-like taicho he had had instilled in him thoroughly. He did not want to contaminate Shuuhei, because he knew quite well — this feeling was one that would never be returned.
Even if Hisagi planned to confess his during their fourth round of drinking, later on.