Author: Uchiha Yumi
Title: Endless
Genre: Romance, Slightly Angst
Summary: Sometimes, the difference between the tamer and the tamed, lays just in the casualty of the moment. One-Shot, Byakuya x Renji, Yaoi, somewhat Shonen Ai
Rating: R/M
Parings: Byakuya x Renji
Main Characters: Kuchiki Byakuya, Abarai Renji.
Special thanks: A special thank to Lilya-chan and FunnyNeko, for reading and correcting all of my nasty stuff.
Notes: English is not my native tongue. Please tell me about my mistakes!
And I'm not good at writing about Bleach.
Here I am again….And guess what? After a R-rated Yuri ("Opposites Attract"), finally some R-rated…YAOI! (happy, happy dance).
Anyway, about this story, it was born to relieve me from some hideous sulking, but then my friends read it and went like "Gawd! You must publish it!" Me: "This shit?" Them: "Shit? It's so BEAUTIFUL!"
So, please, REVIEW and let me know if my friends have gone crazy and it's just them to worship my works too much, or….
Dedicated to SISSIE, because she likes yaoi at least as much as I do and to all my other friends. (grin)
ENDLESS
It was hard to tell what Kuchiki-Taichou always felt whenever he was with Renji.
Duty, pride, nobility, a mix-up of feelings and different sensations twirling and spiralling in his mind, inducing his usually emotionless face to linger and indulge about that muscular, toned figure and wonder why it should be like this.
It was like a fairy-tale: the noble and the rat, the Prince and the poor, the True Light and the Second One. A long, difficult story made out of domination, battles, unsatisfied desires and the everlasting chasing after something you could not reach.
There wasn't a happy ending for them.
It wasn't written in their destinies, nor shining in their stars.
Renji looked up to his power, Byakuya was aware of it and stared at that feeling flaring in his eyes every time he managed to inflict another small, painful defeat to his Fukutaichou.
He should have felt guilty, maybe. He should have tried to renounce to that little, shaking step of supremacy to bend down and finally look at him in the eyes. But as days and weeks and months passed by, he simply found he couldn't.
It wasn't a matter of noblesse, or social-status or reverence, not at all.
It felt more like handling the reins of a savage, rebellious stallion, endlessly trying to tame its force and pride and incessantly winning by just a mere inch.
Was it just casualty to determine those labile victories?
Was it just the unpredictable revolving of events to set him on the throne?
Was he so weak and harmless in front of such a fierce determination and burning wildness?
Kuchiki Byakuya didn't want to give a response to all those doubts and questions.
He just kept on firmly gripping the few strands of control he could collect and hold them together, in his bare, pale hands.
The same hands that, at night, used to wander all over that brawny body, stroking, pressing, sensing, marking his own territory with the mere force of the memories those forbidden touches would have left in Renji's mind.
It was almost a sacred ritual, as everything in Kuchiki-taichou's life.
The need to repeatedly carve with burning, liquid fire who was the tamer and who the tamed, who the dominator and who the dominated.
Who the lover and who the loved one.
And, in the good tradition of every ritual, a small, symbolic sacrifice was needed to accomplish what he wished for. A little, painful sign of rebelliousness as Renji's bites all over his shoulders and throat. Red, bloody marks on ashen, silky skin. Could something else explain what their sex was, better than this?
It was almost soothing, as time cruelly kept on slipping away, to recognize that, every night, there was something fairly unchanged, as if the tyrannical and destructive cycle of life and death couldn't cast its spell on the perfection of their habitudes and rhythms.
Kuchiki Byakuya was fond of it.
Of the fact that every night things seemed to return, identical, and to replay in their bed, every gesture and movement falling into place in a big, enthralling game whose rules had already been decided. Or maybe a dance, in which they were following always the same path and music, so that every night looked like the previous one, in an entangled bond of past and future.
He would have thought to live in the same, endless spell, if it wasn't for some new bite, or scratch or wound to actually remind him things were, somewhat, bound to roll over, sooner or later.
Roll over as the tears he always wished to spot on Renji's cheeks and never did. Roll over as their bodies on the mattress whenever he moved to straddle him and kiss his mouth, deeply, enjoying the sensation of tasting that place he knew so well.
He never liked to thrust in his mouth, nor bite on his lips. He was gentle, usually, allowing for himself just the slightest pleasure in sucking his tongue, always awaiting his sighs and moans.
It was reassuring to actually savour the flavour of some peace, in those moments, to actually enjoy that little, feather-like moment of quietness before a new storm would burst out the moment he moved to pin Renji's hands above his head, hinting him, with a slick motion of his knee, it was time for their lovemaking to reach its highest peak.
Renji's reactions were never predictable. Sometimes he would arch his back, other times just avert his gaze from him and turn his head to the side, or simply stare at him with a challenging glint in his eyes and a dark smirk on his lips, none of his features composed and arranged not to show how stiffen he was.
But Byakuya knew it.
He could sense it in his tightness and hotness as soon as he started burying all of himself inside of him, silently, bending over to once again catch Renji's lips to muffle his scream in his own mouth.
He didn't want to make him scream. It was vile, low, cruel and, somewhat, fearsome and uncontrollable, reminding him of how shaky and thin was his power over him.
And every night was the same, every single moan from Renji's lips filling his mind with the scary memories of that only time when he heard his voice reverberating in an endless scream along the room. It had froze him, back then, forcing him to disguise his fear in shivers of pleasure and hide that small, burning tear – the sole tear of his whole life – against Renji's chest.
But, in any case, he never had too much time to indulge in his reminiscences, as his skin soon was attacked by sharp, beast-like teeth sinking in his flesh and pulling him back to the heat of the battle.
It was hard, rough, rash, flaring and flashing, like a shooting star in the black, nightly sky.
It was arduous to distinguish every single sensation, from then on. It was a whole bulge of different emotions melting and blending in the tightness of Renji's wrist firmly held by his own, in the sweat glowing on their bodies or the rush of heat they felt with every movement until they came, never together, but always in a sort of chasing for the best one, the right one, the only one able to win.
And Kuchiki Byakuya never failed to win. He never dared to give up and try to handle Renji that little, tiny power for once.
He couldn't.
What if he would never get it back?
What if he might fell down that little step and sink in the depths of those red, shiny hair melting with his black locks on the pillow?
Kuchiki Byakuya didn't dare to find out. For, every time he came whispering Renji's name, the glint of satisfaction on his face was already showing him that, sooner or later, he was bound to lose.
o-O-OWARI-O-o
I know, this time paragraphs suck….(siiiiigh)