Repatriation – 3

Sweat beaded on the tip of Hisagi Shuuhei's nose, his formerly spiked hair plastered to his temples. The 9th division fukutaichou kept swirling the long, wicked sickles of Kazeshini's kusarigama in their even, elliptical orbits, the sharp sickles swishing past his legs and his ears, the chain links worn smooth by the iron grip of his deceptively slender hands.

"Come and get me, fukutaichou!" Muguruma Kensei, the taichou of the 9th division, stood just outside of weapon's range, his zanpakuto in its deceptively meek shikai. For Takeshini assumed the form of a large survival knife in Kensei's hands – a knife which allowed him to control the very wind itself, carving sharp blades formed of reiatsu and sending them, wind-swift, at his opponent.

Kensei was pleased with Shuuhei's progress in controlling his shikai. Shuuhei had become closer to his zanpakuto and no longer feared it quite so much, his self-inflicted injuries having become quite rare. That pleased Kensei immensely, for if anything truly bothered him, it was seeing Shuuhei in pain. He measured the slender, rope-muscled figure before him. Shuuhei regained a lot of the muscle mass he lost previously, but he was still so lean, you could identify the individual deltoids in his shapely shoulders.

The signs of progress were, however, marred by signs of complacency. Kensei released a fast-spinning air-blade to shake Shuuhei up a bit. Pleased, he saw his missile easily deflected. He shot another, and another, the cadence of his missile release easy and even, and Kazeshini's blocks smooth in response. There was, however, no attack.

XDXDXD

"Come and get me, Shuuhei!"

Oooh. I wish he hadn't phrased it quite like that.

I heard that, baka. Kazeshini chuckled in Shuuhei's mind.

The other man, well-muscled and beautiful in his deadly dance, moved to the left by several steps. Shuuhei merely re-centered on him. He was supposed to advance, and he wanted to, but not with the intent of defeating his captain. No…he wanted to run his hands through the short, white hair, he wanted to tilt his head down and capture Kensei's straight lips, run his fingers along his chiseled jaw…

Sudden pain pierced his arm and his scent picked up the wet, metallic stickiness of blood. The wound wasn't deep but it stung, his pride echoing the sensation.

You're letting your dick distract you. Kazeshini's critical tone indicated displeasure with his teammate.

"It sure would be more interesting if we had a hand-on-hand fight," Shuuhei replied.

If you get us close enough, it may come to that.

XDXDXD

Kensei's eyes narrowed as he felt the way Shuuhei centered himself. As though he finally knew what he was going to do. As though he knew what he wanted. The weight of Shuuhei's reiatsu crashed over him and he felt his inner Hollow stir. His presence was a constant in his life but he didn't feel hin rouse unless the prey seemed worthwhile. Kensei was never quite sure whether his Hollow understood the concept of "practice". His sparring with the other Vizards was fraught with struggle for control not over only them, but over his Hollow as well, for his Hollow tended to go somewhat overboard and Kensei had no interest in eliminating his friends permanently.

Tachikaze was a familiar and a reliable ally, her missile blades shooting out with deadly accuracy. Shuuhei seemed unconcerned, having fallen into a block-block rhythm, Kazeshini's sickles reaping Tachikaze's blades out of thin air.

Except complacency never helped anyone achieve bankai. Kensei varied the rhythm of his attacks and was rewarded by a flinch of the muscled arm, a dark, wet streak running down all the way to Shuuhei's hand. It hurt, but it was the only way. Kensei didn't love inflicting pain, but he understood the necessity for it. There were other kinds of pain which he'd hate to inflict much more.

Bleeding lightly, Shuuhei advanced upon his target, his blades whirling in a protective shield, his body mobile and flexible as he allowed the unblocked missiles of Tachikaze slide through his shihakusho, shredding it but not touching his skin.

"The enemy will miss you by an inch, not by a foot."

Byakuya's voice rang in his head from their earlier sparring sessions – the precise, careful, risk-averse 6th division captain as though by his side – and Shuuhei focused on balanced tension through his whole body, extending his senses through Kazeshini once again.

Almost there. So close – but Kensei shunpoed away from him.

Shuuhei flash-stepped on the diagonal to intercept the older man.

Kensei flashed back a few more steps.

Shuuhei, blades whirling, advanced, aware of the wall ahead. If he could only pin Kensei against that wall. Preferably in the corner to the left – if he could keep him from moving out of his range…if he could cut him off somehow.

XDXDXD

Kensei had been well aware of the wall behind him. Shuuhei seemed to have a plan, and curious as Kensei was, he didn't intend to find out what that plan was. He flash-stepped away from the wall to his right, intent on not getting cornered, when a dark shadow full of whirling blades met his path. A wave of reiatsu hit him, its crest breaking on his broad chest and he took two steps back, regaining his balance.

Those two steps cost him dearly, for while he back-peddled, Shuuhei's shunpo caught up with him.

XDXDXD

Left. Left! More. There!

"We got 'em!"

Shuuhei let the chain slide through his loosened grip, one sickle pulling its links into a loping arc, the second one secure in his left hand. The weighted chain shot up, wrapping around Kensei's body and arriving in Shuuhei's ready right hand. He pulled the crossed chaines hard, his left hand blocking Kensei's blade with the oversize kama of Kazeshini.

Having Kensei under his tenuous and momentary control, he flash-stepped ahead, slamming both of them into the awaiting wall's embrace.

XDXDXD

Kensei was pinned. His range weapons advantage was now neutralized and he had naught but a long survival knife against the two black, wicked scythes. Shuuhei's reiatsu pressed against him and he murmured approvingly, scenting the fresh, ocean breeze and the light hint of eucalyptus.

His inner Hollow scented the same thing and growled in recognition.

Mate.

XDXDXD

Shuuhei's left hand had let go of Kazeshini, his effort redoubled on capturing Kensei's zanpakutou. It was a bold and an impudent move. He felt his reiatsu flare against his opponent, his senses heightened, feeling Kensei against his chest, his legs.

Don't think with your dick.

His fingers wrapped around Kazeshini's hilt, he tasted Kensei's reiatsu darken and there was that feeling of pleasurable warmth, and pressure, and Shuuhei's kiai turned into a shout of joy as he slammed into Kensei once again, resuming his pin, desperate to wrestle Tachikaze out of his strong, gloved hand..

He saw Kensei's eyes turn a colder shade of yellow and he felt that dark, hot reiatsu envelop him and as he swirled his own energy around Kensei in return, there was excitement there and a deep, rumbling growl. Shuuhei, amazed, saw a white Hollow mask grow on Kensei's face. His face was obscured by it, only those hard, yellow eyes were visible, so different in expression and intent from the warm yellow eyes of Kensei. Yet there was the warmth he so craved – enveloping, smothering, caressing.

Shuuhei leaned forward and stroked his smooth cheek against the Hollow mask and he felt the dusky reiatsu strengthen, yet it was less heavy and less hot somehow and Kazeshini whimpered in Shuuhei's mind.

Fucking gorgeous.

XDXDXD

Kensei'd been pinned, sharing his sight and perception with his Hollow. The picture he received was oddly distorted when he did that; he could see the heat envelop Shuuhei as though in layered colors and he felt his reiatsu more intensely. Fresh wind laden with salt spray whipped him in the eyes and the verdant scent of eucalyptus invaded him together with the spicy fragrance of sun-scorched, baked clay. It was all he could do to keep his eyes from rolling back in pleasure.

Mate. Need mate.

His Hollow's voice shook him from his momentary lapse of reason and he tightened his grip on Tachikaze. Impudent pup – nobody took his zanpakuto away. His vision cleared as he shoved his Hollow back into the recesses of his consciousness.

"I'd head-butt you but I don't want to break your nose." His gruff voice bore a faint trace of satisfaction. Whatever he'd done, he'd succeeded in forcing his fukutaichou to move into his space. He wasn't sure what it was, though, and how he could replicate the desirable action. He needed Hisagi to be more aggressive, more willing to win.

The younger man didn't move, hips pressed against hips, slender hands pinning stronger wrists. The grey-green eyes met the primrose yellow, filled with longing and want.

"Kensei…" Shuuhei's voice was breathy as he pressed his hips against him, once again enveloping him in that fresh green aura.

He felt the soft, sensuous lips caress the corner of his mouth. Hands ghosted up his bare arms, their slow ascent savoring the definition of his shapely musculature. His breath hitched. The Hollow inside him hummed approval and so did he as he parted his lips, inviting Shuuhei's tongue, his wrists abraded by the rough stucco wall.

"Hisagi-fukitaichou, are you done with this practice field?" Matsumoto and Kira stood at the very end, hesitating.

Kensei shook off Shuuhei's grip and sheathed his zanpakutou.

"Well done, Hisagi-fukutaichou." His voice carried across the expanse of the area. "We're done for today."

He felt the loss of Shuuhei's touch against him.

"Hai, taichou." Shuuhei stepped back, Kazeshini already sheathed. In a much softer voice he added, "Would you like a cup of tea? I have a special blend in my quarters." Their eyes met and suddenly, Kensei knew fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of being ridiculed for his clumsy efforts. This was Hisagi Shuuhei – a man whose name was legend among both women and men of the Seireitei. Even the aloof Kuchiki deemed him skilled enough. The two fukutaichou now patiently waiting for them to clear the area, had been his lovers – simultaneously.

"Thank you, but not today. I have a previous engagement."

XDXDXD

Kensei's cold words made Shuuhei feel a chill within. He was being rejected, but why? As they walked to their respective quarters, Shuuhei's thoughts drifted to a particularly passionate kiss he and Kensei exchanged in the 9th division office. Kensei had said, back then, that he cared about him. Yet there'd been a hesitation, a certain sort of holding back which hurt Shuuhei almost as deeply as being rejected back in the World of the Living. He kicked a stone, channeling his irritation.

You know, absence makes the heart grown fonder.

"Yeah?"

That's how Matsumoto keeps Kira's attention, you know. She makes sure he has ample opportunities to miss her presence.

Oh. Kazeshini must have been visiting with Haineko. The zanpakutos used to visit one another a lot when the three shinigami lived together. He was glad that they remained close. After all, there was no reason he couldn't remain friends, even good friends, with his former lovers. This didn't exactly solve his current situation, though. First, a shower. Second, a dinner date. Ikkaku and Yumichika requested his presence that evening, aware of his quest for the meaning of "fun". Shuuhei resolved to wear a gray kosode with thin, green leaves painted on the upper back and sleeves. It was a gift from Yumichika and Shuuhei knew the flamboyant man would appreciate it.

XDXDXD

Kensei showered, the evidence of his raging need subsiding only when the hot water ran out.

Damn.

He never figured himself to be a coward. The reality of the situation was, though, that he didn't know what to do with another man. He'd have to find out…he couldn't ask Renji or Byakuya, his pride still smarting. Same applied to Kira. Ikkaku and Yumichika would know – and they were unconnected to Shuuhei romantically, plus Kenpachi would welcome his company.

Yes.

He'd have a quick dinner.

Then he'd bring a bottle of sake to the 11th division.

He'd hang out with Kenpachi.

He'd accidentally run into Ikkaku.

Not Yumichika – the man was just too much for him for a conversation as delicate as this one.

XDXDXD

Dressed in a casual gray kosode, his haori left behind, Kensei had just stepped out the door when a graceful shape appeared before him.

Matsumoto Rangiku.

"Mugumura-taichou. I have a note for you from Hisagi-fukutaichou."

He glared at her. "What does it say?"

"I do not know, sir."

He growled thanks and took the sealed parchment from her hands.

Mugumura-Taichou,

With your permission I am requesting the weekend off. I will report on Monday at my regular time. In case of emergency, please contact me via Hell butterfly.

Regards,

Hisagi-fukutaichou

The tone was rather formal, betraying no indication of the younger man's fondness for him. Kensei frowned, lifting his eyes to the blonde woman. "How did he seem?"

"Who, Shuuhei?" She replied, her voice bubbly as always. "He was a bit preoccupied. Maybe a bit strung out. Why?"

"He's requesting the weekend off."

"No way!" Rangiku opened her wide eyes in feigned amazement. "He never takes any time off. But taking time off is good, right? There's a first time for everything."

Kensei suppressed a sigh.

"I suppose so. Thank you, Matsumoto-fukutaichou."

He turned on his heel and headed toward the ramen shop, a bottle of good sake in his hand, bile rising in his throat. The kid would be the death of him yet.

XDXDXD

"He's impossible." Kensei sighed, his sad, yellow eyes following the motions of Kenpachi's hands as he refilled his sake bowl. He leaned forward to refill Kenpachi's bowl. They raised them together in yet another toast.

"To sanity," Kensei said, closing his eyes.

They drank.

"And the worst part is, I just don't know what to do." Kensei hiccupped, his eyes jerked up in startlement at his body's betrayal. "No fucking idea. If he was a babe I'd know what to do, but he ain't. He fucking has to be a guy." He drained what was left of his sake and leaned against the wall of their customary Friday-night alcove.

"There are people you could talk to." Kenpachi worked his jaw some, his expression solemn, only a hint of amusement glinting in his uncovered eye.

"Yeah. Not Yumichika, though. I'm gonna talk to Ikkaku. Where is he?"

"Gone for the weekend."

"Damn."
"But Yumichika's still here."

"What, didn't they go together?" Kensei's brow was drawn in puzzlement.

"Ikkaku and Shuuhei took off. Something about Shuuhei finding something fun to do. What is this obsession of Hisagi's with fun, anyway?" Kenpachi drained his sake bowl and set it down.

"I guess our Shuuhei never had a chance to do anything fun," Kensei reflected. "Wait…did I hear you say he left for the weekend with Madarame Ikkaku?"

XDXDXD

Kenpachi poured a bowl of plum wine for Unohana-taichou, who accepted the drink with a bow and a downcast smile.

"I'm so glad I could get out tonight. No emergencies, thankfully." She took a dainty sip.

"So tell me, Kensei. What is this research project of yours? Kenny has been hinting at it all night long, but he just won't tell me anything."

Scorching heat flooded his too-pale skin as Kensei groaned, forcing himself to meet the 4th division taichou's eyes.

"It's something of a personal nature, Retsu."

"I see." She smiled in that quiet, omniscient way of hers that used to give Kensei the creeps when they'd been going out and he hadn't been entirely truthful with her.

"How about you come see me tomorrow, Kensei. We can discuss whatever you need to know over lunch."

XDXDXD

Shuuhei slept like the dead. The relative quiet of the countryside was undisturbed by the hustle and bustle of Gotei 13 activities. No messengers, no Hell butterflies, no troops to train. Only his zanpakuto rested by the side of his narrow futon.

When he emerged from the guest room, fully dressed and refreshed, Ikkaku met him with a small breakfast and a large pitcher of water.

"First of all, you'll need to put on the trews I set out for you unless you want to thrash your hakama. Second, wear my uncle's spare boots once we go outside. Please."

"Alright. You're the boss, Ikkaku."

"My uncle Hiro will be back tomorrow; he's delivering a horse to a customer of his. We're in charge of mucking out the stables and helping my cousin while he's gone."

"Where's your cousin?" They arrived very late the night before. The house was already asleep.

"My cousin Kohaku is still pretty young to run the stables by herself, although she does a great job training the horses. She's out with them now; I'll introduce you as soon as we wash the dishes."

Not much later, Shuuhei stood in a low building with a sliding door on each short side, his feet snug in uncle Hiro's old leather boots, a pitchfork in his hands.

"The horses are now in the paddock so I want you to clear the dirty straw out of each stable. It goes on the pile out back. Then they'll need clean water in their buckets." Shuuhei looked down at the short girl. She was surely younger than an average Shinigami Academy graduate, her long, black hair braided down her back. A polished drop of amber hung suspended off a horse-hair braid around her neck. A testament to her name, no doubt.

"I'm on it." Seeing that Kohaku already did the stables on the other side, he'd be damned to let this slip of a girl outwork him.

"Where's Ikkaku?" He asked, merely curious.

"He's fixing some woodwork around the place. There's a whole list for every time he comes." Kohaku smiled. "I think he does it just so Yumichika gets to ride."

XDXDXD

Shuuhei was done mucking and carrying water. He bent over the cistern, washing his hands and splashing his face. The day promised to be hot again and he wondered however he could stand the heavy leather boots.

"Hey, Shuu, you ready?"

He turned around to see Ikkaku lead two horses. Ikkaku's larger steed was chestnut with white socks and a blaze.

"This is Stix. I'll ride him. You ride Frosty here. Frosty's getting too old to jump so he won't take you by surprise."

Shuuhei approached the smaller, white horse with feigned confidence. He extended his hand and let Frosty snuffle him. The soft nose felt pleasant on his work-hardened hand and as the horse's nose rose to his own, drawing in air, he couldn't but smile.

"Hey, Frosty likes you. If he breathes your air he's checking you out. Here, hold the reigns like I do and lead him over there – follow right behind me. Do what I do."

Half an hour of circling around the paddock gave Shuuhei, a novice rider, the basics. He was an empty vessel, a brand-new beginner, catching every drop of Ikkaku's words of wisdom and advice:

"Keep centered, like with the sword."

"Shoulders back."

"Not so stiff…relax! You need to breathe!"
"Push your heels down.'

"Hands forward. You're telling her to stop when you pull back like that."

"Squeeze hard – there – don't kick. She'll throw you if you kick."

"Elbows in."

"Heels down!"

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Pull the reigns a bit!"

"I didn't know she'd canter with you. Sorry 'bout that."

"Stand in the stirrups, butt in the air, hands on her neck. That's your jump position."

"No, don't jump her. Just in case she bolts when we're on the trail, y'know?"

XDXDXD

Kensei sat in the pear tree, watching the small fruit gain in size. He was settled in his private, exclusive spot where the branches met just so. Tachikaze in his obi, the fingers of his hands interwoven behind his head, he wondered where his fukutaichou might be. He was ready for him. Unohana Retsu was very kind. They discussed life in general over a pleasant lunch, after which she took him into the seclusion of her office. He walked away with two small books on the art of love and a practical "how-to" explanation of how two men might pleasure one another, as well as the "why" of each technique, preparation, and precautions.

It was a lot of material to digest.

It was a lot of stuff to think about.

Kensei and his Hollow consulted on the matter.

He was ready to take his time and make their love-making the high-point of Shuuhei's life.

He would make him feel so desired, so loved, so carefully prepared, before he entered him.

XDXDXD

Ikkaku's rapping echoed on the guest room door.

"Yeah, coming!" Shuuhei's reply was sprightly, but not so his body. Yesteday's riding lesson and a trail ride left his legs stiff and sore and his lower back aching from an unplanned canter across a grassy plain. Ikkaku might have been a fine teacher of particular techniques, but he definitely forgot how incredibly sore Shuuhei was going to be after his first time.

After a whole half-hour, Shuuhei hobbled into the kitchen, greeting uncle Hiro and his daughter Kohaku. They just finished their breakfast.

"Are you always a late riser, Hisagi-san?" Uncle Hiro asked, his face a mask of seriousness.

"No, Uncle. On the contrary – but I feel somehow handicapped by yesterday's activities."

Hiro laughed and Kohaku hid a smile.

"I hear you went all the way to the river. That was unkind of Ikkaku."
"I wouldn't have gone as far, Uncle, except Frosty hadn't been blown out in so long he broke into a run and before we reigned him in, it became our next logical stopping point."

"I see." Uncle Hiro looked at Shuuhei with renewed interest. "And you kept your seat. I think we may be seeing you again, Hisagi-san."

They helped with the stables and the horses, the physical activity sending blood into Shuuhei's muscles and making him feel a bit better.

"Hey Shuu," Ikkaku said over lunch, "There are hot springs not an hour's ride away from here. If you feel up to it, of course."

Hot springs sounded good, so Shuuhei bit the bullet, stretched out, mounted Frosty, and followed Ikkaku at a moderate trot into the countryside.

They dismounted their horses, untacked them, and hobbled them near a fresh-water creek with plenty of shade and grass. Then they undressed and slipped into the pool of bubbling, warm water.

"This is even better than the onsen at Seireitei," Shuuhei purred. He could feel his sore muscles warm up, inner thighs capable of movement again, lower back ready to unkink and crack. He slipped off his rock and began to stretch.

"Don't overdo it, Shuu. If you overstretch right now, you'll be in such exquisite pain it will land you in the 4th division tomorrow."

"Did you do that?"
"No…Yumichika did, though."

XDXDXD

On Sunday morning, Shuuhei didn't hear the knock on his shoji screen. Ikkaku had to come in to shake his shoulder. His very soreshoulder.

"Shuuhei. Wake up, man. Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Gimme a minute."

Everything hurt. His loins were aflame from the abrasion of the saddle and fabric against the flesh rendered tender by the soothing hot water spring. His lower back felt extremely fragile and he had to roll to his stomach and push his way into a cat stretch – which is how he found out that his shoulders and upper back were exquisitely sore from holding the reigns in an unaccustomed position.

He got up eventually and fell into his spare uniform, splashed his face with water, and waddled his way into the kitchen.

"I don't think I'll be riding today. I don't think I'll ever ride again."

He eased himself onto a seat with a groan and gratefully reached for a cup of proferred tea.

"There's only one thing I have to say in my defense," Ikkaku said, his eyes agleam with thinly veiled humor. " I promised Yumichika that I will be no easier and no harder on you than I was on him. You got exactly the same work and riding schedule as he did, with exactly the same results as he did."

XDXDXD

Monday dawned, the sun burning off the morning dew with its first rays, promising another hot day. Kensei walked to the 9th division office with eager step.

It was empty.

Hisagi-fukutaichou wasn't there.

Inconceivable.

The first delivery of interdepartmental memos already landed on their desks.

Shuuhei was always there before the paperwork arrived.

Kensei settled in his chair, leafing through the bureaucratic flotsam with listless fingers. His world was turned upside down. He, Muguruma Kensei, finally knew how to please his male lover, and he was eager to communicate that fact, yet his soon-to-be lover was not to be found.

He could be injured.

Delayed.

Eaten by a hollow.

OK, not eaten by a hollow – any incident of such magnitude would have shown on the 12th division detection system.

The door opened. There stood Hisagi Fukutaichou, regret in his incredible, eucalyptus eyes.

"Good morning, taichou. I apologize for being late today." He bowed stiffly and proceeded to walk to his chair. Kensei noted a pronounced limp in his gait. He observed Shuuhei manoeuvre his body between his desk and his chair. The slighter man planted his palms on the desk and, with great and delicate care, he lowered his bottom onto the seat of his hard, wooden chair. He winced in pain as he touched down.

"Are you alright, Hisagi?" Kensei forgot to growl – there was true concern reflected in his eyes.

"No major injuries, taichou." Shuuhei turned to him and winced, his hand flying to the small of his back.

"If I may inquire…where were you, Shuuhei?" Kensei's voice was like a fist of steel, clad in a velvet glove.

"Ikkaku took me out to the country side, to have some fun." Shuuhei winced in pain again. "As a result, I cannot walk, or sit, my legs are aflame and my lower back is about to go out. However, Yumichika informed me that that's normal for the first time – he had exactly the same experience as I did." Shuuhei halted his languid narrative.

"Wait. Taichou. Where are you going?" He would have followed him, had he not been in such excruciating pain.

XDXDXD

"Kenpachi!" Kensei's roar was heard through the whole 11th division courtyard.

"Yeah." The 11th division captain lumbered onto the porch, his hair still down, his kosode hanging out of his hakama.

"Why so early, Muguruma?"
"I have a bone to pick with your 3rd seat, Kenpachi."

"What for?"

"He despoiled my fukutaichou!"

The acoustics of the courtyard lured a few 11th division members out; when somebody came yelling like that, it often resulted in an entertaining duel.

Ikkaku emerged from the shaded doorway to his and Yumichika's quarters.

"Muguruma-taichou. How may I help you?"

Kensei flash-stepped to a point two steps in front of the taller, bald man and he glared at him with all the gravitas of his person and his Hollow combined.

"Next time don't poach in my territory." He stepped in and slugged Ikkaku right on the jaw.

The taller man stumbled back, his body in a ready position.

Time stilled until Kenpachi began to laugh.

"I do not see any reason to be amused." Kensei's voice was a Hollow hiss, his eyes turning a cold, pale yellow.

"I do. Your fukutaichou walks with a limp and his ass is sore after spending a weekend with my 3rd seat. What else did you expect?"

Kensei turned his cold glare at his drinking buddy and friend.

"You want to take me up next?"

"Sounds like fun."

A purple streak flash-stepped between Kensei and the others. Ayasegawa Yumichika, still dressed in his lovely violet dressing gown and getting ready for the day, the flamboyant feathers not yet affixed to his brow, held a slender hand against Kensei's chest.

"Muguruma-taichou, forgive me, but there has been a terrible misunderstanding."

His violet eyes met Kensei's beseechingly and he bowed.

"I am very sorry if my horse was not an adequate mount for your fukutaichou. She's getting older and her gait is no longer as smooth as it used to be. However, if this was Hisagi-fukutaichou's first ride, it is only natural that he would experience a certain amount of soreness in his legs, his lower back, and in…other areas…as well."

XDXDXD

Shuuhei was lying on his futon in his quarters, stripped down to his fundoshi. A pot of medicial tea sat next to his head, it's bitter, astringent odor holding a promise of pain relief.

Kensei opened a jar of ointment and lathered his hands with it, stroking Shuuhei's long, smooth legs from top to bottom.

"Ah…owwww…more to the inside, there. Argh!.. Fuck, that hurts so good, Kensei!"

"Keep it down, will you?" Kensei growled.

He kneaded the strong, lovely hamstrings with his powerful thumbs and moved up to the round, shapely ass. He cupped the cheeks under the heels of his palms, kneading in small circles, moving to the outside of the hip, targeting the strained and overworked abductors.

"Ah, Kensei, more…oh, more…yeah right there, ohhhhh….."

Kensei saw Shuuhei's fists grip the sheets of his bed, his jaws clenched, and felt the familiar heat pool below his navel.

"Shuu…do you know what ointment I'm using?"

"Ah…no…"

"I got it from Unohana-taichu. It's to ease our way…" he let the powerful, intoxicating kneading of his hands accentuate his words, "when we decide to finally go for it…and I will prepare you with it…and use it on myself…so I can slide inside you…and make you feel…absolutely fucking great."

There. He said it. His hands kept kneading, moving higher, his thumbs now gently massaging the stiff and sore erectors running parallel to Shuuhei's spine.

"Ahhh…but Kensei…I wasn't planning to be on the bottom…I was…ahhh… Ow!...I wanted to…lather myself…so I could slide…inside you…"