A/N: Springkink March 2010, Bleach - Ukitake/Shunsui: ust, orientation issues- Shunsui was pretty sure he only liked girls.
Rating: M (Shota, yaoi, old marrieds)
Disclaimer: Bleach is the property of Tite Kubo. I do not use its characters, settings and/or events for any profitable purpose.
A Long Dry Spell
So, it's true then?
Hai.
What's it like?
What's what like?
Sex.
You're asking me what sex is like?
I mean with a man.
Oh. We haven't done it yet.
But you will.
Yes, probably.
. . .
How do you do it?
Do what?
Have sex with a man.
Why?
I'm just curious.
Well, you touch each other, just like you touch yourself. And you put it...well...you put it in...their hole. But you put oil in it first so it's slippery like a girl's. It's not that different, really.
You'll be the girl, right?
I'll what?
You'll be the slippery one. The girl. When you do it.
I am not a girl, Kyōraku.
. . .
~~xXx~~
Later, he would claim that he'd been motivated by possessiveness, a desire to mark his territory, the overtly masculine need to be first.
The reality was much simpler. He was in love, for the first time in his life. Everything about Ukitake Jūshirō was his ideal, his dream, his deepest desire.
That Ukitake wasn't a girl was the only obstacle.
Shunsui became aware of his feelings one night not long after they first met, after pressuring his much younger classmate into a trip to the brothel. He'd spent hours driven to utter distraction not by the courtesans, but by Ukitake - who lay next to him, lithe and newly pubescent, gazing at him in languid despair as the women made him a man.
When Ukitake matter-of-factly informed him of his impending shudō relationship, Shunsui resisted the urge to confess his desires. He simply acted, draping his lanky frame over his friend's without prelude, his fully matured body making his intentions plain. Being so much older and stronger, Shunsui effortlessly suppressed all struggle until Ukitake gave in to him, letting Shunsui make him slippery and push in hard and deep.
The night seemed endless. Shunsui withheld his release as long as he could, not wanting the experience to ever end, not willing to free his new lover until it had. When it was finally over, and Ukitake's tears and cries of pain had transformed into a prolonged and shockingly copious climax, Shunsui held his friend close and whispered comforting promises, the only ones he would ever keep.
Yet, half a dozen centuries passed before they made love again.
~~xXx~~
"Shirō-chaaan."
"Stop it, Kyōraku. I'm not a woman...eeeyehhhh...ahhhhh..."
Ukitake lay face down in the lavish bedchamber with Shunsui stretched out beside him, languorously massaging his lower back. It was a warm night, and Shunsui was sweating a little, and the scent of his heated body was intoxicating.
"Shirō-sama. You can call me Tessai-kun, I don't mind."
"Are you hard? Let me see."
Ukitake reached down to caress the soft, fleshy member that lay twitching against Shunsui's thigh, the smooth glans just beginning to peek through its thick foreskin.
"You're not hard yet?"
"Mmmm. Hah. Mmmm, Shiiirō. Squeeze my balls, would you?"
Lazily, Shunsui opened his legs, lifting one knee upright. Ukitake rolled over and pressed the blade of his hand against his perineum, neatly shaved for this very potentiality. Slowly, Ukitake drew his hand forward, turning it to spread the heavy testicles until they bulged out to either side of his palm; he applied pressure, slowly, steadily, and Shunsui's thighs began to tremble.
"I wonder, Kyōraku. How many lovers have you asked to squeeze your balls, in total?"
"Only...haaah...only you, Shirō."
"Don't lie," Ukitake reprimanded. Returning his hand to a blade, he slowly rubbed firm circles through the soft, loose skin and into the broad root of his lover's penis.
"You're the only one that matters. Uhhhhh...Jūshirō...what a fool, that Tessai-kun. Choosing a promotion over your talented hands. I'll have to remember to thank him. Is my body as nice as his, Shirō-sama?"
"Be quiet, you. Get up."
Shunsui let his head fall from its supporting hand with a comical plop and turned onto his stomach. Drawing his legs up under him, he pushed his bulk off the futon until he stood on his hands and knees, long, spiraling locks of hair draping him like a veil. He arched his powerful back and rocked his hips as Ukitake fondled him, and his phallus swelled and stretched out to hang loose and heavy in the still, humid air.
It's much nicer, Ukitake thought, moving his hand aside to admire the view.
"Oi!"
"All right, all right." Ukitake returned his palm and the tips of his fingers to Shunsui's distended testicles, eliciting a low, shuddering groan of pleasure.
"Good?"
"H-hai."
"Whenever you're ready."
"Hai."
. . .
"Kyōraku?"
"Mmmm...Hai..."
~~xXx~~
It always started out that way. Eventually, Shunsui would collect himself enough to fumble for the bottle of oil on the floor next to the futon. Deftly cracking it open, he would drip the rich lubricant between Ukitake's buttocks, and massage and soften the opening until he could slide his fingers in with ease.
Ukitake would reach a hand back between his legs to receive a dribble of oil and take hold of his own neglected erection, long and slender and startlingly dark in comparison to the rest of his skin. He would cock his pelvis invitingly, face and shoulders pressed into the bed, and caress himself with long twisting strokes. He would watch with one eye as Shunsui slicked himself, a thrill of intimidation seizing him every time he realized just how hard and thick that shaft had become.
Sliding forward, Shunsui would squeeze and spread lean buttocks and lay his erection in between. Their movements were instinctively coordinated; Shunsui would slide down and push forward as Ukitake flexed his back, bringing head to opening and beginning the slow, inexorable joining of their ravenous bodies.
They had discovered long ago that they could prolong their lovemaking almost indefinitely - since Ukitake was seme by nature and Shunsui preferred women, their respective levels of arousal were easily kept in check. Neither of them could deny, however, the profoundly satisfying influence that their lifelong friendship had upon sex.
And so, on the rare occasions when Ukitake found himself between wakashu, he inevitably sought out the always-willing Shunsui; and night after night they would switch roles and dance for hours on the pinnacle of arousal until, exhausted, they let themselves fall into blissful release.
~~xXx~~
Agh, Jūshirō, these bruises are hideous. You shouldn't keep doing this to yourself. Whatever made you think Kaname would stand by while you tried to seduce his protégé?
Tōsen may still come around to my point of view. He knows very well how much I have to offer the boy. Plus, I enjoy the chase, and outcomes can be unpredictable, as you should know.
Eh?
Remember? Winter break of our first year, when you came to stay at Ugendō? Right after Yamamoto-sama became my patron?
. . .
No.
Yes you do. I know you remember.
Nope.
Shall I remind you then?
Hmmm.
You strung me along for the entire term until you got to my house, away from the girls. You asked me under the guise of curiosity to explain how men make love, and then you waylaid me without any provocation on my bedroom floor in the middle of that frigid night. You were peculiar and avoidant for the rest of the break, and as soon as we were back at school you headed straight for the cathouse as if nothing had happened.
. . .
How did this discussion turn to me? We were talking about your insufferable dry spell.
You understand perfectly well why it is relevant.
Oh, right! You think that one night justifies the fact that every time you lose your grip on some naïve young prodigy, you end up in my bed crying about your aching heart and wanting me to tide you over until you manage to catch another one. Huh. You wouldn't be here if Kuchiki hadn't run off and gotten married, and Tōsen hadn't caught you with that scar-faced Rukongai slut. You're just using me 'cause you're lonely.
Well, that's kind of the point, Kyōraku. You took me out of loneliness, that night in my room, didn't you? You treated me like some heartsick girl, whispering all those sappy promises about how you would always love me, would always be there for me, remember? I'm simply holding you to your word. You have plenty of time otherwise to spend with your courtesans, so why complain?
. . .
~~xXx~~
Shunsui had always loved the way his broad hands fit perfectly into the hollows flanking the base of Ukitake's spine. The skin there was so soft, cool and pale, and the muscles so responsive, once he'd worked the knots out into relaxed, pliant flesh.
There was something intensely erotic about Ukitake when he was at ease. His ordinarily tense body became as smooth and supple as a woman's, loath as he was to admit it. Even at his age, Ukitake's skin remained flawless, having yet to sustain any wounds - a testament to his unparalleled skill as a swordsman.
Shunsui stroked his fingers up that long, sinuous back and felt his incessant arousal stirring yet again. He caught the gaze of one lascivious brown eye and grinned in spite of himself.
Why, indeed.
A/N:
"Squeeze my balls, would you?"
Mmmm, Kyōraku, you sexy MFer.
See what happens when you've been married for 2000 years?