Ways of Binding [Chapter 5 Is Up!]

Ways of Binding, Chapter 1

Characters: Kuchiki Byakuya x Abarai Renji. Mentions of Ikkaku, Yumichika, and Rukia.
Chapter summary: Byakuya plays a prank on Renji. But why? And what is Renji going to do about it?
Rating: PG 15ish. Will get sexier/smuttier as story progresses.
Dedicated to my awesome girly friend Marissa-chan for giving me the idea that led to this whole fic.

Renji trudged back to Sixth division’s headquarters, strong fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Everything about Renji’s body language said that he was pissed. That is, everything except the deep blush that lingered on his neck and cheekbones.

“Damn it!” he fumed. Younger shinigami scurried to get out of his way, wary of his temper and the reach of his zanpakutou.

“No,” Renji continued brooding to himself, “Damn him. Why does he do this shit to me? To put me in my place? Whatever. To make me squirm? If that’s what rocks his little socks off—fine. But today….” Fresh anger reinvigorated the tell-tale crimson blotches.

Renji ground his teeth. “I am not his fucking court jester.”

Less than an hour ago, Abarai Renji, the famous (or infamous, ne?) fukutaichou of the Gotei 13’s Sixth division, had been addressing a select group of upper-class students at the Academy’s main sparring grounds. Division Six had their eyes on no less than five of these talented youngsters, and so Renji had made sure to turn on the charm—Renji style.

He was cocky, brash, a helluva swordsman, and, quite possibly, the coolest, sexiest damn thing these kids had seen in their entire lives.

Renji couldn’t help but grin at the students’ gasps when Zabimaru’s jointed blade snapped above their heads. “Good show,” he’d thought, “No need for an encore.”

Zabimaru was clack-clack-clacking back into its stasis shikai form when something impossibly thin and sharp grazed the top of each ear before cleanly slicing his trademark bandana in two.

“What the…?” was all Renji had time to think before he felt the unmistakable pressure of his taichou’s reiatsu. A well-timed shunpo brought Kuchiki Byakuya within one inch of Renji’s back. Tattooed eyebrows arched skyward as Renji felt the Kuchiki’s warm breath against the back of his neck.

“Ta… taichou?” Renji stammered. Two of Byakuya’s fingertips rested briefly against the back of Renji’s left hip. Renji felt another brush of movement against his right shoulder blade, and then… SNAP. The elastic holding Renji’s ponytail was ripped cleanly away from his head. A thick curtain of crimson hair descended over his eyes. Clack. The last segment of Zabimaru fell into place with the others.

Byakuya was already standing 10 feet away, as calm and poised as ever. The raven-haired noble radiated an undeniable power, though his countenance was a study in calculated indifference. Countless blossom-thin blades swirled around the scabbard in his right hand. His left hand held Renji’s hair tie, still in one piece.

The students let out another collective gasp before bursting into applause. This was Renji’s cue to introduce his taichou—though an introduction was hardly needed. Everyone in Soul Society knew of Kuchiki Byakuya, leader of the “true first” of Soul Society’s four great noble clans. He was a prince, an icon…

“And a total dick,” Renji grumbled. Stinging drops of sweat brought him out of his reverie. A young, female shinigami was staring at him, deep green eyes flooded with concern. “Abarai fukutaichou?” her voice was questioning.

“Aww shit.” Renji cut a hard left down a deserted alleyway. The hell if he’d let his company—let alone Kuchiki taichou—see him like this. He leaned against a bare wall, gulping at the air in an effort to steady his breathing and regain his composure.

His mind reeled at the thought of Byakuya’s regal bearing and unflappable poise. “Dammit!” he cursed out loud, forgetting his proximity to company headquarters.

“Fuckin’ prince perfect. Always pushin’ my buttons.” Renji exhaled sharply. So much for calming down. Renji needed something more potent than deep, steady breathing to quell the raw torrent of anger and hurt that followed.

“What would it take to make him squirm?” Renji’s eyes narrowed. “I wonder….”

Mental images of the Kuchiki clansman’s refined, elegant features and smooth, porcelain skin elicited a low snarl, “What I wouldn't give ta smash through that ‘ristocratic block of ice an’ shatter that freakin’ mask….”

Renji ran his tongue slowly across the top of his teeth, “Once, just once, I wanna make him sweat… an’ stammer… an’, an’…scream…. Yeah…” An uncontrollable flash of fire from deep within his gut brought out a lopsided grin.

“Ungh.” The line of fire was already receding, leaving a sour, burning feeling somewhere between his heart and twitching loins. Renji swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. He dug his fingers into the dense muscles above his knees and blinked back two traitorous tears.

Out came the hurt that invariably followed the anger. “Why? Why is he so damn untouchable? I’m Sixth squad’s fukutaicho because he recommended me. Is this some kind of sick game to him? Am I jus’ his stupid mongrel pet?”

Renji pressed the lower parts of his palms against both eyes and choked back a sob. “Doesn’t he understand…? Why? Why can’t he…see that…I…worship him?” The sob faded into a pained whisper.

It was true. Renji’s first encounter with Byakuya left him awestruck. Unable to look the noble in the eyes, Renji immediately placed him on an unreachable pedestal while simultaneously vowing to someday surpass him in strength.

Over time, Renji’s admiration for Byakuya grew into reverence. There was something else there, too. Something…personal. Rukia called it a “boy crush,” and claimed that crushes had nothing to do with gender. Yumichika decided that Renji’s “unbridled passion” was “beautiful thing.”

Ikkaku, in turn, warned Renji to stick to the kind of swordplay that involved actual zanpakutous. “You don’t want to see your dick chire into a thousand pink pieces, do you, Renji-kun?”

It wasn’t until he was awarded the position of fukutaicho of Sixth division that Renji began to fully comprehend the subtleties of Byakuya’s vast strength.

Renji had fought him once, and lost. In the depths of his heart, Renji knew he couldn’t kill Byakuya. But the desire to simply bring Kuchiki taichou to his knees had put a fire in his belly and given him the courage to utter the word “Bankai.”

Renji couldn’t kill Byakuya. In return, Byakuya didn’t kill Renji. During that battle for Rukia’s freedom, Byakuya could have ended his life any number of times. Instead, Byakuya left him beaten and bleeding, but alive. He’d even complimented his subordinate’s display of power.

“Your fang indeed reached me,” Byakuya had said before tossing his light silver scarf with a flourish, so that it curled lightly over Renji’s crumpled form. Practiced apathy did well to hide the deliberation Byakuya put into each and every word.

The memory of Kuchiki taichou and his priceless, heirloom scarf tugged the corners of Renji’s mouth into a sudden grin. As stoic as he was, Byakuya had a knack for dramatic effect. He couldn’t just exit a room or fade away from a conversation. He had to pivot around in one sharp move, flipping his hair just so. As part of his grand exit, Byakuya never, ever looked back.

“An’ he gets on me for bein’ flashy? Sooo vain. What a drama queen,” Renji chuckled, straightening his shoulders and running a hand through his mess of hair. It didn’t occur to Renji that they were both vain, in their own ways. Rather, both were overly concerned with appearances and placed enormous value on how they were perceived by others. In some ways, the loud-mouthed, tattooed redhead and the serene kenseikan-wearing noble weren’t so different at all.

Renji’s unruly red locks immediately tumbled back into his eyes, and he thought again about the prank Byakuya just pulled.

Of course, the students’ untrained eyes hadn’t seen the nimble shinigami until his feet were firmly planted a good distance from Renji. Only a handful of top-ranking shinigami could see the Kuchiki’s shunpo.

The students were still focused on Zabimaru’s blade when Byakuya leaned into Renji…pushing against his hip for purchase…warm breath pulsing against the back of his neck. They saw Renji’s hair fall, and soon mimicked his look of surprise. Yet they couldn’t know how close the noble’s lips had been to Renji’s skin.

Auburn eyes widened as a different kind of flush slowly heated Renji’s skin. Taichou’s soft breath had sent a shock of tingling energy through the core of his body, sparking a familiar twitch in his groin. Renji’s immediate impulse had been to lean into the firm hand and warmth breath. But by then, Byakuya was long gone. It had all happened within the blink of an eye.

Renji rubbed the back of his neck and chewed softly on his bottom lip. Little fires burned in the depths of those auburn eyes.

“Hid his reiatsu so he could sneak up on me, huh? Hoping to catch me off guard, huh?” he said with a smirk. “Well, taichou, two can play at that game.”

The crooked smirk grew into a thoroughly devilish grin. Anger dissipated. Tension dissolved. Renji concentrated on lowering his reiatsu and moved swiftly toward company headquarters, filled with a new purpose.


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