Byakuya Kuchiki watched from under his lashes as his lean tattooed lieutenant stretched, flexing his muscles warily. The way the muscles in his tanned chest almost rippled made the captain's stomach tighten. Byakuya averted his vision, silently scolding himself for being so ridiculous. He couldn't have feelings for his subordinate, it was absurd. He admired his young lieutenant, he admired his tenacity and his daring but he couldn't bare the man's brash and impertinent nature. Subconsciously Byakuya sighed and shook his head. His eyes widened as he'd let his iron clad composure slip. He scolded himself again. How unseemly.
"Taicho? Are you okay?" A deep curious voice brought Byakuya out of his reverie. He looked up to see Renji leaning over the desk towards him. The concern in the dark brown eyes made Byakuya's heart skip a beat. Ridiculous.
"Fine." Byakuya managed to retort in his usual icily clipped manner. Renji took the icy tone and equally cold demeanor as a good sign and sat back down. The Kuchiki noble watched the man as he continued to write messy scrawls across each piece of paper.
"Abarai fukutaicho, you may go and supervise the squad's training. I'll finish up here."
Renji looked up in surprise at the unusually kind offer from his captain. In truth Byakuya just needed time to himself to get the ridiculously attractive vice-captain off his mind.
"Of course Taicho." Renji gave a slight nod to his captain as he exited the room. The captain subtly eyed the way the lithe body moved towards the door, his muscles dancing under the uniform. He looked so handsome, so powerful. Like some kind of wildcat coiling to strike. Byakuya let out a breath he had been holding. He thought back to his late wife Hisana. He still very much loved her, her delicate, fragile beauty, the pale pink blush that sometimes flushed across the pale skin on her cheeks. When Hisana was still alive all he wanted to do was protect her and make her happy. He couldn't understand how he could be attracted to Renji, a being that completely opposed everything Hisana was. There wasn't one female member of the 6th squad that hadn't fallen for his roguish clueless charm and his wolfish grins. Byakuya shook his head again. To feel this way about his lieutenant would surely be an insult to Hisana.
Byakuya continued with the mountain of paperwork, his quill gliding effortlessly across the paper. Unlike the redheaded brash fukutaicho the captain's calligraphy was perfect. He noted that often his lieutenant would watch him as he wrote; maybe he should give Renji some calligraphy lessons? I would rather give him something else. Byakuya's mouth dropped open at his own crude thought. When had he ever thought like that? Never. He was a refined member of nobility; such impure thoughts are not acceptable. He felt the heat rise under his silk scarf. Calligraphy lessons would certainly be interesting with his boneheaded dolt of a lieutenant. It would be a stressful situation indeed, like trying to teach a monkey to tap dance. He smiled at his own analogy.
No, it wouldn't be so difficult. He could simply put his hand over Abarai's and guide the pen himself. Yes, put his hands over the large tanned hands, feeling the warmth soak up from said hand into his arm. Maybe touch a toned chest, rub a milky white finger across those jagged black tattoos that mapped such a heavenly body. He could trace every scar, and feel soft pink lips against his own.
Yes, a calligraphy lesson would certainly be entertaining.