Notes: The very latest chapter has arrived. It is, in fact, the longest chapter I have ever written. I finally got a lemon in there. Not terribly good, but I am so proud with how Byakuya turned out. Even Arakida Ayano the great Kuchiki studier said I wasn't bad. Thanks sweetheart! Hope this latest chapter pleases you all as much as it pleased me.
Renji approached with a swagger, the fragile younger shinigami swallowing loudly as he held a defensive hand to his chest. Richiki adored his senpai, in one drunken stupor he'd even told him so, but his beloved's look brought some sort of fear into him.
The Fukutaicho grabbed his face with a wildness that was as strong as his red hair, pulling him closer, forcing his entire body against the wall with an inescapable pressure. Staring deep and penetratingly into his eyes, he asked his young admirer,
"You still want me, do you?"
Before Richiki could answer Renji acted upon that faint glimmer of hope in his eyes, taking the smile that was forming on his lips with a fierce, brash kiss. His tongue pushed against teeth, practically tearing it's way deep into the young shinigami's quivering mouth.
"Renji…"
Richiki had never seen him like this, at least not sober. He remembered times when Renji would take on a whole bar and win, all for the hell of it, but this was different. He felt himself being dragged down corridors to his Fukutaicho's apartment.
'This should all feel so perfect,' he thought. It was a dream come true, but it still felt wrong. He had always imagined his first time with Renji; romance, soft lights, declarations of undying love…
He felt his eyes stinging with tears. This wasn't what he wanted. He wanted Renji to love him.
The younger shinigami suddenly felt very small and vulnerable. He didn't want what he had with Renji to become what he'd had with so many other men; fast and cold. But there was no stopping his senpai now. The look of lust in Renji's eyes was almost frightening.
The older man's hands explored, pushing the boy's kimono off his pale shoulders. Richiki winced, feeling the sharp nails dig into the skin. Renji didn't know why he felt so angry, well he did, but he couldn't explain why causing his friend such pain gave him such perverse pleasure. It almost made him forget why he was here…
Richiki's uniform lay in a torn little heap by the bed as Renji knelt up, looked down on his stripped subordinate with something akin to disgust. He tried to imagine the flawlessly beautiful grace of his captain beneath him. Instead he could only see the scrawny, infantile body of Richiki, half cowering, half begging to be taken.
Renji lowered his head to the daunted boy's chest, tearing viciously at the swollen nipple. Richiki cried out, his scrambling fingers entwined in the bed sheets as the red haired shinigami tasted blood. He grinned wolfishly, forcing his hand down Richiki's hakama, pushing them down to his knees, he'd enjoy watching him shiver. Renji reached down slowly to grasp the trembling boy in one calloused hand; his fingers scarcely moving before the young shinigami began to whimper.
The older man swallowed, he knew Richiki wasn't a virgin, it was obvious in the way he moaned whorishly and rolled his hips to meet his 'lover's' hand; but there was something so innocent, so pure, so absolutely corruptible about him that made Renji gladly look forward to what he was about to do.
Richiki's eyes were wide as his partner pulled the hand away and swiftly stripped out of his uniform. Renji tried to control his desire as he gradually let the folds of black fabric slip to the floor. He could see the fear in Richiki's face. And he loved it. A terrible part of him longed for the boy to beg him to stop. The idea of raping his young friend was making it harder and harder for Renji to be gentle.
But he knew, he knew Richiki would never ask him to stop. That whatever his senpai did he would always grit his teeth and bear it, then tomorrow he would smile shyly and pretend it had never happened…
Richiki tried to sit up, being on his back for so long made him feel vulnerable but Renji forced him back down, slamming a solid leg on either side of his subordinate's slight hips. Richiki was paralysed by the glare on his Fukutaicho's face and the large hand pressed immovably to the pillow by his head.
Renji spat into his other hand in an attempt to spare the young shinigami some of the pain and anguish he would feel, but he was probably used to this anyway. 'It wasn't rape', he told himself, Richiki hadn't asked him to stop, yet…
Renji entered him roughly, clamping the same hand over Richiki's mouth forcing him to swallow his scream. The older man couldn't suppress his own groan of pleasure. Shit Richiki was tight! He didn't know how many other guys had fucked him like this but he practically felt like a virgin. Renji knew that after that build up he wouldn't last long as he was already nearly there.
Richiki whimpered, his little hands reached for him. They were reaching for a friend. The friend he had once had, once idolised, once loved.
Renji thrusted hard and deep, it felt deeper than this brat could take and it felt so fucking good. The child felt like he was being split in two. The tears ran down Richiki's face, he wanted to cry out, to beg his beloved senpai to stop. He felt Renji shudder before coming, hard and Richiki went very pale.
o.o.o.o
Richiki lay in a crumpled naked heap in the shower. Renji had left as soon as he finished, leaving his partner to make his own way home. The boy was still in shock even as he stumbled into his own apartment and began running a shower.
Everything seemed wrong, the lights were too bright, the water was too hot, his whole home just wasn't right. The poor boy fell under the boiling hot jets of water, totally overwhelmed. He curled up against the stone tiled wall and burst into tears. He tried to pretend it didn't bother him; he had almost convinced himself that Renji could love him one day, that maybe one day Richiki could be like his idol…
But he knew what had been on Renji's mind tonight, the name he had breathed in his split second of post-coital bliss. It was a name the young shinigami could never have expected or even believed possible.
"Byakuya."
o.o.o.o
Byakuya groaned and rolled over. It was no use, he'd get no more sleep tonight. The blackness beyond his blinds told him that it was too early to reasonably request breakfast. It couldn't be much after four.
'At least there were no more nightmares,' an irksome voice at the back of his mind reminded him. At least, the little sleep he had achieved was peaceful and untroubled.
The young Kuchiki rose swiftly and slipped on his yutaka. Perhaps a bath was in order. Yes, that's what was needed, a nice hot bath to de-tense before another day of work. Byakuya usually took his baths in the evenings, but this would be a welcome change. At least the ritual of his bath would take his thoughts away from…
The noble shinigami padded noiselessly down the still corridor to his familiar, personal bathroom. The door locked behind him with a satisfying click and he paused to take a meditative breath. The dark tiles were cool and comforting underfoot and his mood settled, enjoying the muted echo of his footfalls on the slate floor.
He began to run the water, watching the steam rise from the many jets feeding the sunken bath, before deftly slipping behind a broad screen to change. There was no one in the room to observe him, but a force of habit compelled him to protect his modesty at all times, even from himself.
Byakuya emerged to a room full of sweet-smelling steam. This truly was his favourite place to be at times of stress; running water, the gentle scent of his blend of bath oils, the clean lines running through every surface and his hand painted lacquer screens emblazoned with scenes of birds and sakura trees. He allowed himself a calm smile as his sunk into the steaming water.
He took some great silent delight in the way his skin flared in the scalding bath. The pure white alabaster, glowed rose as he reached up to pin his hair up out of the way, it was something he hated more than anything when he was in the bath, the feeling of cold wet hair brushing across his back. Such a childish dislike.
He hissed defensively as he let the water splash up his broad chest. It tingled deliciously, but he couldn't help but feel that familiar clawing at the pit of his stomach just as he has hoped those thoughts were leaving him. He sighed. Even, it seemed, the perfection of a morning bath did little to burn all thoughts of Renji from his mind.
The noble Shinigami let out a low, annoyed groan.
'Why am I letting this affect me so much?' he mused. 'That kiss was a minor indiscretion. I did the right thing in rejecting him. My feelings for him can be explained by our close proximity during the working day and his obvious physical attractiveness.'
The ever-proud Kuchiki hated to use a phrase like 'getting any' but he certainly wasn't.
'Perhaps this is a contributory factor in this inexplicable attraction I have for him. I mean, we are completely incompatible as people and… he's far too tall.'
He paused in his thoughts. Had height become a valid reason for rejection? No. He had to stop negotiating with himself. It seemed a growing problem that he had. And it may well indicate that he was losing his mind. He sighed, letting his head roll back and hit the well-worn edge of the bath. He was, most likely, making a huge fuss about nothing in his mind.
He let his eyes slide closed.
'Tomorrow all this is sure to have blown over. I suppose Renji is feeling naturally embarrassed about what happened. I shall apologise profusely for my misconduct, offer him an honourable way to transfer to an alternate position and if he decides his brief spell at Sixth has been enough to entice him to stay, he will be perfectly within his rights to do so.'
Byakuya felt much better after rationalising the position to himself and he decided tomorrow would be a much better day.
Final Comment: My next fic will be a silly little drabble to celebrate Kira's birthday today! Then I promise to start work on the next chapter of Dark Diary. Busy busy busy, so much to do…