This story is sort of an AU fic, or at least implying to the time before Seireitei or Gotei 13 were founded. Jushiro was an 'escort', Shunsui kept his family honor by attending Yamamoto's dojo. I may go into how the Thirteen squads were created, but for right now, this is how Soul Society was.
Note: This takes place before Jushiro's illness sets in. I may go into how he came to be known as the tuberculosis-ridden-white-haired-shinigami we all know and love, but this is a highly selfish erotic story, so I'll do that when I'm in the mood. Until then, enjoy this!
Includes: lemons or limes (no strawberries), boyxboy, explicit content, selfish indulgences...uh...that's it I think.
Bleach: Not mine. The words are. sigh
Yamamoto's school was the best in Soul Society. A large base of students were included in its population, as well as several external resources at his disposal. Disciples were everywhere throughout many districts keeping the peace, but even the size of his vast school outweighed the number of souls that came in regularly from the real world.
Not only did Soul Society have to deal with the taint of newly incarnated human souls, the residents would also cause upheaval and disruption. Not to mention hollows that intruded daily, destroying subdivisions of districts in their wake.
Soul Society was not heaven or a peaceful existence after you die; it seemed more like hell than the life people came from among the living. Homeless and poverty stricken people died to be reincarnated here in a similar existence. Things were not going well.
To be in Yamamoto's school, however, was an honor; learning his amazing sword techniques gave a soul the fighting chance of protecting others, enforce justice, and make a better life for one's self.
It was not together uncommon for nobles in Soul Society to send their sons or daughters there to train, of course maintaining their lineage through superior knowledge. Few others also managed to be schooled in the fine arts of weaponry as well, but their stories are varied.
"Why do I need to attend a boring class taught by some ossan?" the raven haired boy spoke, casually twisting his finger in his hair.
"Because, while you work my route you need to be able to defend yourself."
"I can protect myself well enough." The boy looked flustered, however still turning at the strands in his hand.
"Fine. We will at least go to Yama's school and get you a bodyguard."
"Ooh...I like the sound of that." Dark eyes sparkled, sporting the beautiful features of the young boys face. It was obvious why he was in this line of work; he had a soft jaw line, yet angled against the long white neck. His lips parted ever so subtly, one was drawn to the smile that clung there. His eyebrows were a bit thicker than most, but that provided a youthful quality to his demeanor. Even flushed the boy was beautiful.
"No touching the bodyguard. If he wants you he'll have to pay me."
"Fine, fine." The boy put his hands up in self defense. "But don't hold me accountable for anything that happens."
"I never do." The burly man retorted. "You make me the money."
Inside Yamamoto's school, classes were going on. Some people were sparring; others were watching. Everyone was doing something, though one fought the most to remain idle against the whole clan.
Leaning against the wall, he took a sip from the unmarked bottle on the table. The chair was propped awkwardly at an angle, looking as if the man had some mystical properties of levitation on the chair. Despite the angle, the man sat comfortably within the frame, casually watching the sparring matches.
"You should be practicing too, Kyoraku-san." An old man spoke from an adjacent table.
"I am, Yama-ji. I'm studying how to listen and observe better."
"You know what I mean, Kyoraku-san. Your skills will get rusty."
The man laid even further back in the chair. "Na, Yama-ji. None of these students are worth the effort. For a good battle I'd have to be both myself and my opponent: I'd have to work twice as hard to put up a good fight with me."
Smiling at the statement, Kyoraku's arms went behind his head in an ultimate relaxed pose. Apparently training was not his main objective.
The bell on the main entrance door sounded, indicating that someone entered. Yamamoto's attention went to the newcomers in his establishment.
"I come seeking service." A burly man spoke up. Though not intimidating, his demeanor made up for his lacking size. An ugly frown took up his whole face, locking gazes with anyone whose eyes stayed for too long.
"What can I help you with?" Yamamoto asked politely and calmly. Normally business men didn't cause trouble in a room with so many trained fighters.
"I want your best man as a paid bodyguard for my merchandise." Man gestured through the doorway, bringing forth another person.
Kyoraku's half lidded gaze nonchalantly turned toward the entering person – and then he fell out of his chair. The dark haired boy standing next to the drab ugly man was beautiful; enough so to destroy the concentration of his precarious pose.
More than one person looked as the large student flipped over onto the floor.
"Heh heh…" Kyoraku bolted upright, feigning his slip. "The chair's not sturdy…" he mumbled outwardly as he quickly regained a seated position. Glancing back up, he noticed the handsome creature staring at him intently. His heart nearly flew out of his chest.
The raven haired boy turned to the burly man and whispered something. A casual flick of the wrist quieted the sound as the man spoke again. "I'll be willing to pay a decent amount to the best man in this dojo."
Yamamoto acknowledged, and issued a command. All interested participants moved forward, standing at attention. He intently stared at Kyoraku, who reluctantly stood up and swayed over to the group.
Kyoraku really didn't feel like fighting today, but Yama-ji's reiatsu was telling him otherwise. Optimistically, it could be fun.
After several battles, all the contestants were heaving and groaning, sans for one Shunsui Kyoraku, whom barely broke a sweat. During his battles he only used one of the two swords in his daisho just to be fair; now the katana was draped easily on his shoulder.
He probably could have used the wakizashi, but there was some honor to be upheld for his classmates.
The burly man's face shone, hands clutching together subconsciously. From his pocket he produced a small bag, though heavy in weight, and set it into Kyoraku's waiting hand.
"Well met, Kyoraku-san." The man stated. "This is Jushiro." He gestured toward the boy.
Being a bodyguard to the boy proved an interesting endeavor; at least it kept him busy. Apparently the boy had a tight schedule around town, not leaving much opportunity to sit idle and talk. That didn't stop him from wishing he had a bottle of sake.
After the last client of the day, he took the boy home to bathe and sleep. Although Shunsui was tired, the steady stream of energy from Jushiro made it appear that the boy never needed rest at all.
It could be well understood that the boy need protection though. He was too beautiful in his own right.
"How old are you?" Shunsui asked as the boy washed in the bathtub. "You seem a child still – no more than a teenager."
Jushiro laughed. "I'm old enough – I may look like I'm nineteen, but I'm probably the same age as you."
Perpetual youth exuded from Jushiro – the reiatsu from him was lighthearted and carefree; Shunsui enjoyed being bathed in it.
He wasn't consciously aware when the boy rose out of the water to kiss him. He tasted wild and untamed too.
Passion flicked in Jushiro's eyes as lips roamed over his cheekbone. Shunsui felt his face go red.
"Remember what your boss said," Shunsui pulled back "I can't touch the goods."
"He's not really my boss per say." Jushiro leaned in, purring in his ear. "We're mere business partners."
The tone shot straight into his groin. It was apparent why Jushiro was in this line of work, and he appeared to enjoy it.
Gods, he needed a bottle of sake right now.
"I shouldn't." Shunsui protested, moving away yet again. If he had that sake right now, things would probably go just a little differently.
Now Jushiro moved out of the basin, his long body beading water. Droplets ran down porcelain skin, pooling at thin white ankles.
Shunsui was watching every movement of Jushiro's body, a lump forming in his throat.
What did I get myself into? Wait, Yami-ji was responsible for this, he wanted me to spar. I'm gonna have word with him about this…if I make to out of here…
Aware that he had been retreating this whole time, he felt a solid thunk on his back from the wooden door. He realized that he ran out of room.
Jushiro was practically on top of him, despite their vertical orientation. Arms wrapped around his neck as Jushiro continued to sway the larger man.
"Don't you want me, Shunsui?" Jushiro pressed his lower region, grinding their bodies together. The wetness didn't seem to bother him, though he was making a mess of Shunsui's clothes. Samurai robes were not hard to wash because of their durability, but he didn't really enjoy cleaning them.
Suddenly his robes pulled back from the top, exposing the upper half of his body. Well, that solves his clothes getting wet.
Wait! This is wrong. If that man catches me with him like this, he'll fire me for sure!
"I don't think we can do thi-!" Shunsui hissed as Jushiro bit his nipple.
"How about you let me decide what we should do." Jushiro concluded, wrapping his arms around the pooled clothing on Shunsui's midsection. "I think we should go to my room."
Shunsui flopped onto the boy's bed. Jushiro was stronger than he looked. That must make him pretty versatile when it comes to –
Stop thinking about that! We still can't go through with this, no matter how soft his skin is…no wait…how beautiful he is…arg!
Jushiro's body covered Shunsui's, straddling his hips. Kisses covered his mouth ravenously – despite the boy's work load he still had this much energy pent up inside him. As Jushiro grinded up against Shunsui, kisses became two-sided; up until that moment Shunsui had been resisting with every fiber in his being. Now he wanted more contact, more skin.
"That's better." Jushiro commented, promptly ripping away the hakama still clinging wetly to Shunsui's legs. The light skinned boy viewed Shunsui's body and smiled. "You're a bit hairy – but I like it. Makes you all the more…manlier."
Shunsui's eyebrow popped up. He didn't think he had ever heard that kind of comment before. Reflecting on that only momentarily, he was assaulted by Jushiro leaving a trail of wetness all the way down his body. Quickly he engulfed the member in his mouth.
Pins and needles shot through Shunsui's body. Everything about this kid struck 'experienced'; the way he moved, the way he acted…the feeling was heavenly. Hands clutched at the sheets as he reveled in the experience.
Appropriately slick, Jushiro withdrew his mouth and positioned himself over Shunsui. "I want you, Shunnsuiii," Jushiro purred, devastatingly close to his ear. Arousal was evident on both men, Jushiro's manhood an angry pink that stated its over-stimulation.
The thin man above him was so seductive and attractive, preying on all of his senses. Grabbing the erection in his hand, he set to work on relieving the flushed boy of such a painful looking predicament.
Jushiro moaned, and slid into the movement. Slowly the tip submerged, causing the boy to jerk uncontrollably. Then Shunsui was upright, hands clasped around his hips, urging the last few inches in. Slowly they rocked, Shunsui effectively dropping the boy onto the hardened shaft.
Shunsui couldn't believe what was happening. The dark haired boy felt so good around him that he couldn't think straight. All thoughts were prone to feeling and giving to Jushiro.
Jushiro slammed down on top of the member with reckless abandon, finding the hidden spot of pleasure inside himself. The boy was not anywhere close to quiet as he arched, moaned, and screamed into the room from his growing elation, evidently getting closer to climax.
The beautiful body above him writhed in passion and lust, spurring his own desires. Kisses were maddening now, biting and nipping as they drove each other on, faster and faster.
Massaging Jushiro's manhood with both hands he could feel the retraction in the boy's body, building the moment of release. One, two breaths as Jushiro moaned out loud, spilling seed onto the stomach of Shunsui. Shunsui didn't notice, in the throes of his own climax. Muscles tightened around him, squeezing every last bit of fluid that ensued from his contracting body. Riding out the last waves, they pressed into each other, savoring those few moments after.
"Arigato, Shunsui – it's rare that I can act out my own desires."