Romance and Rivalries

Chapter Thirteen
by Rob

It hadn’t been a pleasant morning by any stretch of the imagination . . . In fact it had been a constant string one bad events, one horrific incident after the other, which had left Kisuke bordering somewhere between exhausted and psychopathic.

There was a part of him that just longed for sleep, to just rest his head on a nice soft pillow and pretend like nothing bad had happened whatsoever, knowing that when he woke up he’d be nice and refreshed and could hopefully forget the day before. There was also the other part of him that kept ticking away, that anger that was bubbling beneath the surface and threatened to boil over, that sense of frustration and anger that wanted nothing more than to hurt someone but knew that it couldn’t, a feeling of constraint that he couldn’t shake because to do so would be to let loose and explode. He knew his friends probably considered him mature, responsible and level-headed, not rising to the bait or taking his anger out on those around him, that they thought of him as a perfect father who had not once expressed his rage through violence, shouting or cruelty. It was true he’d never raise a hand to his kids, true he’d never really shouted at them, and true he wasn’t going to start now . . . but if he was going to be completely honest it was just because he was just too damned tired to.

He was lazy at the best of times, sleeping in late and often making people do his work for him, and with Renji – especially after last night – he’d been pushed to his brink and wanted nothing more than to fall sleep in a nice, comfy bed. If he had the energy or the effort he might have shouted, might have screamed, might have even socked the brat one . . . but he just couldn’t be bothered. It was easier to be more creative in his punishments, easier to talk than to shout, easier to ground than to punch, and besides he didn’t want to think what Yoruichi or Tessai would ever say if he ever did step out of line. It was kind of scary in a way to think that the only thing that held him in check, the only thing that made him a good father, was his sheer idleness and apathy to life. If his friends ever discovered out that little fact about him they’d probably see him in a whole new light, well that was assuming they’d be shocked at all by it, which they probably wouldn’t be . . . Still, he had to be doing something right because kids seemed to love him: Ichigo, Uryu, Orihime, Chad, Rukia . . . they all stopped by even when Renji wasn’t in, sometimes just to catch up, so he had to be a cool person, right? If that was the case then why was it that whatever he did it never seemed to make a difference to Renji? Why was it that no matter how hard he punished, lectured, begged, asked that the redhead always got into these messes? Maybe he wasn’t cut out to be a dad, maybe he was just cut out to be the ‘cool uncle’ kind of guy, but all he knew was that right then – at that very moment – he was on the brink of cracking, and any moment he’d explode. Granted it might not be the classical ‘explosion’, but he’d learnt over time that the kind of explosion ‘Kisuke-Otousan’ made was perhaps more deadly than the average person, more like a radioactive bomb compared to a small pipe bomb. Any second now he’d snap, and frankly he wasn’t too sure that he cared.

It’d been such a stressful morning that he wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to get this far without committing homicide. Last night he’d been sleeping after some wonderful activities with Tessai only to get a text from Gin, that had meant of course that they’d had to find a last minute babysitter in the form of Soi Fon and Yoruichi to watch Jinta and Ururu, which then meant that they’d had to go and stalk down the brat named Renji at close to midnight. If that hadn’t been bad enough Tessai had been forced to call parents and drive a load of the kids home, whilst he and Isshin cleaned the house. Oh, that wasn’t bad enough either, at least not when Renji was involved, because with Renji involved there was always room for things to get a lot worse . . .

Things happened quickly after that. There’d been Renji vomiting on his feet, followed by an emergency phone call to Isshin saying that Grimmjow had broken his arm and needed treating, that meant Isshin and Ichigo had to drive home, treat Grimmjow where his friend came straight back. Kisuke had a feeling that leaving one very inebriated teenager with his older boyfriend, doped on painkillers, in a house free of any adult presence was not a good move. Of course Shinji was now over at Aizen’s trying to ‘fix’ the ‘Hiyori vs. Grimmjow’ mess, which in no way could end well, and then to top it all off Renji had thought it a great idea to sleep with Uryu, his best friend’s son! No – no, things still had room to get worse . . .

That morning – somewhere between ‘oh my God, Karin just told me she heard strange noises in Ichigo’s room!’ and ‘Uryu, I did not raise you to be such a promiscuous whore!’ – he’d received a phone call or two from Ukitake-san and Mayuri-san. It seemed that Mayuri hadn’t been satisfied with his cut of the profit they’d be making from the vaccine, he’d gone to Aizen and was trying to extort more money from Ishida-san, which was fine because Mayuri – whose role model seemed to be Kisuke himself – had promised to split all profits with him, fifty-fifty. The downside was that, whilst Mayuri and Ishida battled it out in courts over what percentage of profits Mayuri would receive, the vaccine couldn’t be used or tested. It would mean that Ukitake would have to make a tough decision about whether he wanted to illegally try out an experimental drug, administered by Kisuke, or wait for the court battles to finish at which point it may be too late to try anything. It had surprised him but it seemed his friend hadn’t wasted a second on thought, instantly opting to illegally be treated by Kisuke and hope for the best . . . He couldn’t blame his friend, but it was a lot of pressure on Kisuke, and if things didn’t turn out well then it could be bad all around for all of them.

It was safe to say that at ten o’clock on a Thursday morning, after the night he had, he truly wished he could be anywhere else except sitting around a breakfast table with his husband to his left and his son to his right . . .

Tessai was currently nursing a hot cup of green tea, staring intently across the table at their son who seemed to be wilting under the brutal gaze of his father. In fact Renji seemed to be looking pretty damned miserable on the whole; his hair and skin were slightly greasy and his eyes had large bags under them, his face was kind of puffy with vomiting and he looked ready to pass out any second now. It wasn’t just physically he looked bad, his eyes were wide with fear and he seemed to have developed a slight nervous twitch (although that may have been from pain, Kisuke was surprised he could still walk). The poor kid looked truly terrified. It was like the calm before a storm, each one of them waiting for something – just one thing – to set it all off into play, causing an explosion none of them would forget.

He took a quick sip of his own tea and tried to hold back a smile as he spoke over in the direction of the door. He didn’t even need to turn his head to know that his two youngest children would be eavesdropping around the corner, desperate to hear and see just what would happen to their big brother, but he also knew they wouldn’t be able to have a real conversation with two children in the room, even if it would add to his son’s humiliation.

“Jinta, Ururu,” Kisuke said in his usual cheerful tone, “if you’re both that bored you have nothing better to do than to listen in then I’m sure I can find some work for you both to do. Renji is going to be here a while after all, maybe you guys wouldn’t mind doing his chores?”

“W-What! Aw, come on, Boss – we’ll be good, just don’t give us that idiot’s work to do! Let him do it, he’s the one in trouble after all!”

“Hmm . . . Good point.” He replied, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. “Well, okay son, let’s give you something else to do instead! Do you and Ururu know where I stashed that huge bag of alcohol?” He heard them each give a sound of affirmation and continued, “Well it seems that Renji’s favourite clothes, posters and video games are all out on the garbage pile out back, so why don’t you and Ururu go and get things ready by pouring all the booze over everything, get it nice and ready for the bonfire tonight! Oh, and if you want to borrow any of his books Ururu, you’re welcome, and Jinta is welcome to search his room in case he has anything he shouldn’t, but come straight to me with it if you find anything good!”

Truthfully the items mentioned on the soon-to-be bonfire were actually old hand-me-down items intended for Jinta, but stuff so bad that even the little redhead rejected them saying they were too ‘uncool’. Of course Jinta and Renji didn’t need to know that what was being burnt was actually just garbage, it was better to let them think it was Renji’s things – or at least until the fire had burnt out and Kisuke could hand him the box of his cherished items back – because it just wasn’t a real punishment until someone was really sorry after all. He continued to sip his tea, hiding his smile behind his cup as his eldest son’s face fell through the floor and became pale enough that even the porcelain couldn’t compete.

“Y-You’re not really going to burn my stuff, are you?”

“Well,” Kisuke began, “thanks to your little party half your school year is hung-over or exhausted, so thanks to you the school did have to cancel a day of learning. Although I’m sure Ichimaru-san and Kyoraku-san will be pleased.”

“You can’t blame that on me! The party was Uryu’s!”

“I see. So the fact that we caught you in the bathroom with Uryu-kun, half-naked and moaning obscenities, that wasn’t your fault either?”

“I told you! That jerk is still a virgin! I didn’t even touch him, he was just making it look like we were up to no good so he could humiliate his father and ruin his reputation! You know four-eyed freaks aren’t my type!”

Kisuke was willing to let that one slide. His main reason being that it was just too funny for him to see Renji in a neck-lock, yelling out how sorry he was whilst Tessai looked furious enough to make even Aizen-san cry out in fear. The kid wasn’t actually being hurt, or at least not in a way that could be considering unethical, but the little attack would certainly knock enough sense into him to be more careful in future with what he said. He also knew that his husband wouldn’t forget the insult in a hurry, which would mean no seconds at dinner, gross leftovers for school lunch, and probably a lot of vacuum cleaning during the hours Renji would be trying to sleep. Eventually Tessai seemed to let go and return back to his usual poised and gracefully sitting, looking regal and calm as ever.

“Then there’s the fact that you threw up on my shoes too.”

“Those shoes looked like crap before I threw up on them,” Renji mumbled quietly.

“I’m sorry?”

“Err, nothing . . .”

“I thought that’s what you said. Oh, let’s not forget that thanks to you Grimmjow ended up in a fight that broke his arm, Ichigo ended up drunk as a skunk, and according to Isshin both of them were caught having ‘done the dirty’ this morning. I don’t think Isshin is too distraught, but poor Jeagerjaques-san was most likely terrified, after all one doesn’t like to be treated by a doctor with a needle at the best of times, especially not when having been caught naked in bed with said doctor’s son.”

He glanced over to Renji to see the redhead sniggering behind his hand, apparently sober enough to find the embarrassment of his friend a source of entertainment, but quick glare however seemed enough to shut him up. If Kisuke were to be honest he probably would have found that funny were he Renji’s age too, and – were he awake enough – he probably would have found it funny at the age he was now. There was just something about picturing the prudish, cocky Ichigo getting caught in bed with an older man that just made one want to instinctively laugh, but there was always a time and a place for everything. If Renji thought it was funny then he should have laughed it off with Rukia later, not made a deal about it when he was getting disciplined by his parents, after all it didn’t exactly endear them into taking pity on him, instead it just irked Kisuke further and made him want to be extra hard on the troublesome brat.

He’d already made Renji clean the entire Ishida residence, but now he was sorely tempted into maybe selling him to Yoruichi for the week as a personal maid or maybe getting him a gig emptying bedpans at Ishida-san’s hospital – huh, that was a thought, it’d definitely be a lesson Renji wouldn’t forget in a hurry too, he’d have to ring his friend later to arrange the times. He could always let Renji drink some of Tessai’s ‘sure to work’ hangover medicine too, that would always knock sense into Renji, hmm, maybe Tessai could be convinced to take part in that form of discipline, it was worth a shot.

He just wasn’t sure what he was going to do with Renji at this point. If cleaning the entire Ishida house, the threat of having his things burnt, being lectured by Tessai, cleaning Yoruichi’s house and emptying bedpans for Ishida-san didn’t work, then what was left? They could always ship him off to Zaraki-Sensei’s school for a few terms, after all Zaraki-san was renowned for turning delinquents into responsible members of society, but he liked to think that was a last resort, because if Kisuke couldn’t beat sense into his own son then he had no right to call himself a father, much less ship him off onto someone else. Well, if all else failed he could always ask Matsumoto-san to get the photos she’d taken enlarged and sent to the shop for him to frame . . . It was a mildly terrifying thought but the busty woman had – according to rumour – already made a ‘wall of shame’ in her bar, which credit where it was due she certainly worked quickly. According to Kyoraku-Sensei there were pictures of Renji bathed in vomit, Luppi-san trying to make out with anything that moved, and a blond boy quite undressed that Gin actually requested copies of. If the shame the teenagers felt wasn’t bad enough then seeing the wall would definitely knock sense into them, especially for Zaraki-san’s students when he saw them! Poor guys.

“Well, lucky for you, Renji-kun, your father and I have decided on your punishment! You’ll be spending this wondrous week -!”

“Hey! I just remembered!”

Kisuke sighed and bowed his head slightly. He’d just gotten so excited too, after all punishing Renji was the highlight of his day, and he always loved to see the kid whine, cry and beg for mercy each time he was punished! It was always so amusing to see . . .

Still, Renji never had the longest attention span and he was a lot like his brother in personality, never really thinking or caring about the consequences of things until they actually came. It seemed like the only one of the children who wasn’t ditzy, easily distracted or below average intelligence was Ururu, but unfortunately her calm demeanour and smarts never rubbed off onto her brothers. He wasn’t too sure he wanted to know what it was Renji had remembered, it couldn’t be good, but regardless if the little brat wanted to delay his inevitable punishment then that was fine by Kisuke. He was willing to hear him out. It was almost cute though how his eyes seemed to look up to the sky in thought, and how his little face seemed to light up as if in humour, it always made him wonder how Renji could be so childlike and yet get into such adult complications, like with drinking, fighting and relationships. The poor guy just seemed to want to grow up far too quickly.

“Oh? What did you remember, Renji-kun?”

“Something that Shinji bloke said,” Renji said offhandedly, “I was too drunk to recognise him at the time, but he’s one of your friends right, Dad? I swear I’ve seen him a couple of times growing up”

Kisuke smiled as he flipped open his fan, previously hidden in his sleeve, and began to lightly fan his face in mock nonchalance. He knew that the blond was a very good friend of Ichigo’s and so it made sense he’d be invited, but somehow it didn’t seem fair that the Vizard would get an invite and not Kisuke! Granted not many people would want to invite their dad or their dad’s friend, but it would have been nice of them, and plus with an adult or two there the kids wouldn’t have got nearly as drunk and no one would have been in trouble. Kisuke would have gladly chaperoned if they’d -. Oh God, it seemed he’d not only gotten old but he’d become one of those uncool parents that had forgotten what it was like to be young, after all what teenage boy wants to be chaperoned, least of all by a parent? That was it, if one day he began telling Jinta to ‘wrap up warm’ before leaving the house or Ururu to ‘put on more clothes’ then he was going to get Tessai to beat him until he became cool again. No way did he want to be like the other parents he knew . . . even if that was limited to Kurosaki, Ishida and technically Kuchiki.

“Hirako Shinji?” Kisuke asked casually, “Of course I know him, Renji-kun. He’s been one of my closest friends since med school, I was with him when that trouble with Aizen-san started and I even took the fall with him. He’s always at Yoruichi’s parties, remember last year’s when you tried some sake for the first time and spat it out all over the blond guy? That was him.”

Renji seemed to flush red for a minute in memory and then shrugged. “Oh well, I figured he had to know you. He knew you were my pops and all, but when I asked him if he knew you it was weird . . .”

“Really?”

“Yeah . . . I didn’t think much of it at the time, but it was kind of like he was implying you were more than friends. I must have been mistaken, like you would have ever dated a guy like that, I mean he’s cool and all but he’s kind of creepy. He doesn’t seem at all like Tessai-Otousan. I have no idea what anyone would see in a guy like him, you know?”

“Oh, he isn’t that bad. He’s got his talents after all . . . It’s just a shame I discovered them before the tongue piercing,” Kisuke lamented. “Still, trust me, if you got to know him you’d probably be over Yumichika in seconds, Shinji can make you forget any guy in an instant, he’s just got that way about him.”

A gruff cough came from across the table where Tessai sat, making Kisuke literally jump in his seat and stiffen his entire body. When he looked to his left his husband seemed to be exuding an aura of menace and irritation, kind of like he was mentally counting how many ways he could kill his lover and hide the body. His eyes had darkened behind his glasses, his moustache twitching as he grunted again, and his entire muscular frame seemed to tense as he turned ever so slightly to face Urahara with full force.

It wasn’t that surprising his lover was pissed if he was going to be honest, after all whilst he’d been honest about all his past relationships and lovers he may have glossed over and neglected to mention Shinji . . . It wasn’t that he’d assumed Tessai would be insanely jealous or anything, but his other relationships weren’t at all like they’d been with Shinji. After all Yoruichi was in his teenage experimental years, he’d soon discovered himself to prefer the company of men and Yoruichi found herself with a crush on Soi Fon, and that had ended their relationship, years later they’d both been in relationships and both were far too loyal and monogamous to cheat. He’d fooled around with a couple of guys in med school, the two being friends of his, but they’d never fully slept together and so they weren’t really a threat as such, and besides that both of them had gone on to get married, have children, and identify as being straight. Shinji - . . . Shinji was different, it was different because it wasn’t innocent experimentation as a teenager, it was different as they actually had sex and not just fooled around, and – most of all – it was different because they were not only still friends, but Shinji was single too. Tessai loved Kisuke more than anything in the world, and Kisuke loved him just as much, they trusted each other a hundred percent and neither were remotely jealous, but . . . what person wouldn’t worry when their husband spent time alone with a handsome blond whom he’d long ago slept with, a blonde that was not only single but a complete flirt? It wasn’t that he kept it secret because he didn’t trust Tessai, but more that he didn’t want to worry him. He hadn’t done anything too bad, right?

Still, he had a feeling he was going to be paying for this later. He’d been with Tessai since he turned twenty-six, the two of them opening the shop together and living together, it was three years after that they’d adopted the then nine-year-old Renji. Their relationship was solid, long lasting and one of complete love, adoration and trust, not something to be thrown away over an incident that had happened at least five years before they began dating. Regardless he’d been lying all this time, pretending that Shinji had never been more than just a friend, and so it was obvious that Tessai would be at least a little bit pissed, because he’d betrayed his lover’s trust and kept a rather large secret about his past. Sure he’d be forgiven, sure they’d move on, but before then they’d need to be serious talks, reprimands and a decision on how to fix things . . . even if that did turn out to be ‘no being left alone with that man’, which was probably an acceptable demand considering how Kisuke had gone about things. He’d have probably had similar demands if he’d been in Tessai’s shoes, most people would probably make those same demands too, and of course he knew it was all his fault, because if he’d been honest from the start then his lover probably wouldn’t feel threatened or betrayed in the way he likely did at that moment. It was going to take a lot of long nights, expensive gifts and self-sacrifice to make this one up to Tessai . . .

“Shinji can ‘make you forget any guy in an instant’, can he?” Tessai said gruffly, his eyes turning to Kisuke with a rather noticeable gleam, “So what man did he make you forget, Kisuke?”

“Aha! It’s not like that, honey! This was back when I was in med school, I couldn’t have been older than twenty-one, it was years before we began to date! Besides, it was just a one-night stand, you know? It didn’t mean anything, the rest of the time it was just fooling around.” Kisuke began wafting his fan vehemently in front of his face, desperate to cool down the flush to his embarrassed cheeks and hide his pained expression. “He wasn’t that good anyway. He was all speed but with no technique!”

“Oh? So he wasn’t as ‘talented’ as you just described him?”

“Well, he was . . . but he really doesn’t compete with you at all!” Kisuke stammered, desperate to try and back-pedal his way out of dangerous ground, “I mean he just didn’t have the power that you do, or the rhythm, and frankly his technique leaves a lot to be desired. He kind of left me hanging . . . I don’t think you or Yoruichi ever did that. Frankly he wasn’t that bad, like I said, but he could never compete with you, Tessai! Especially not when you -!”

“Hello! I’m still here!” Renji shouted a little too loudly.

Kisuke turned to his right to see his son sitting with the most pained and humiliated expression on his face ever conceived. He’d somehow turned a shade of red as deep as his hair, and his lips were quivering as if debating whether to start screaming or keep quiet, and his eyes were cast down at the floor as he desperately tried not to look anyone in the eyes. The poor guy had his hands braced on his legs, but was clenching so tightly that he’d probably left bruises through his hipster jeans, and come to think of it Kisuke really didn’t want his son to be hearing these things either . . . Sure it helped add to his punishment, it’d certainly embarrass him enough to think twice before acting an idiot again, because they’d be no way in hell he’d want to relive this moment, but when all was said and done Kisuke found himself as equally as traumatised as Renji. It wasn’t that he had anything to be ashamed about, but this moment just reminded him of the time he’d walked past Renji’s room whilst he was dating Yumichika, and been deeply traumatised by hearing the noises from the room. Whilst this was kind of like payback on Renji he felt kind of guilty about making his own son feel that uncomfortable, and surely it’d take a long time for the two of them to not be awkward around each other, until then it’d be hell for them both.

He lifted his fan to cover his lower face whilst subtly using the tip of it to lower his hat, covering his eyes in darkness so that he didn’t have to look at anyone else around the breakfast table. He could already see Tessai – despite his otherwise perfectly calm demeanour – flushing pink with eyes fluttering in nervousness, and Renji looked ready for the earth to open and swallow him whole. It was better overall if Kisuke just tried to make himself as small as possible, hopefully that way they’d all forget this horrible conversation happened and move on swiftly, back into the realms of normality. He doubted anyone alive would ever want to remember a conversation like this, and he certainly doubted he’d even be able to speak to Shinji again any time soon, at least not without feeling incredibly guilty, awkward and embarrassed. Who knew a clumsy one-night stand with a guy that couldn’t tell a prostate from a freckle would come back to bite him in the ass this way? Life just wasn’t fair.

“Anyway,” Renji said, coughing into his hand casually, as if none of the previous conversation had even happened, “it wasn’t just Shinji? Yoruichi too? My God, you’re just like freaking Yumichika! He slept around the whole group too! First it was Shuhei, then me and then Ikkaku -! Oh gross, I dated someone just like my own dad; I’m going to need therapy for life!”

Kisuke wasn’t sure whether to feel a smug sense of satisfaction at annoying his son so well, or whether he should be pissed off as hell at being compared to a narcissistic, arrogant, air-headed boy. It wasn’t as if he could be really compared to Yumi, was it? After all most single friends tended to fool around together at some point, and it wasn’t as if any of their relationships had been all that serious or even serious at all, just harmless fun until he’d found the guy of his dreams and settled down. Then again, it wasn’t as if he had anything to justify to Renji. He was the adult after all! He shouldn’t have to be accountable for his past, he was the one setting the rules, it shouldn’t matter what his eldest son thought!

“I’d rather you didn’t imply I was some sort of slut, Renji-kun,” Kisuke muttered dangerously, “I’ve only ever been with five people including your father, and it’s not as though Kurosaki-san or Ishida-san count as such either, we only fooled around after all, never actually slept together as such.”

“Oh bloody hell! Is there any one of my friends’ dads you didn’t sleep with?”

This conversation really wasn’t going as well as he planned at all . . . With a sigh he snapped his fan shut and gently rested his arms on his folded legs, looking up at the ceiling with a troubled expression. On the one side he had his husband, angry with him for keeping secret a past lover, and on the side he had his son who had just been dealt the revelation that parents could be sexual creatures too, where at once the truly disturbing thought had manifested itself as ‘any parent who has sex must be a slut, because no parent should ever have sex!’ It was quite immature of Renji but he couldn’t really blame the guy, it wasn’t as if the conversation was at all pleasant for either of them. Frankly though Kisuke didn’t think five people in his thirty-six years of life was that bad, in fact he was probably below average as far as the average horny guy went.

Still, at this point his options were a conversation with Renji or a conversation with Tessai, and either way they couldn’t go well. If it were up to him he’d just close shop for the afternoon and head to sleep, pretending like this whole lousy morning had never happened . . . but judging from Renji’s ‘oh my god, I want to die’ look, and Tessai’s ‘oh my god, you’re so going to die’ expression, sleeping wouldn’t be a possibility any time soon. So -! If he had to face the music either way then which one was it going to be? Hmm . . . Might as well hash it out with Tessai, at least that way there was a possibility of make-up sex, and besides Renji would only flip out when told he’d be working at the hospital for the next week to make up for his behaviour. Yeah, it was much better to deal with Tessai.

“Well Renji, it looks like you’re off the hook for a while,” Kisuke said sweetly, “I’ll be sure to let you know the full details of your punishments later on, but so far I’m going with mornings cleaning Yoruichi’s bathrooms and afternoons emptying bedpans at Ishida-san’s hospital. You’re welcome to stay and argue, especially seeing as your stuff’s still on the fire and you’re grounded for a month, but considering Tessai and I are about to have ‘grown-up talk’ about my past liaisons, you might want to get out before the mental images scar you.” He made sure to smile brightly as he nodded to the door in a false nonchalant way, silently saying ‘leave now before I find a way to make it worse’, “Bye now, Renji-kun!”

It wasn’t a surprise when his son growled loudly, stood up whilst stomping his feet and stormed out the room, making sure to slam the paper door as loudly as he possibly could whilst wandering out to the shop front. No matter how mature Renji pretended to be he was still just a fifteen-year-old boy, one that had the same hormones and attitude problems as any other. So Kisuke chose not to take what came next personally:

“I hate you!”

“Aw! That’s nice! I love you too, son!”

It was hard not to laugh when the sound of doors slamming continued to echo the building. Poor kid, he was just too easy to wind up! One of these days he’d give himself a stress-induced heart-attack, because in Kisuke’s household the one thing needed was a sense of humour, that was of course if one didn’t want to be driven to the brink of insanity . . . Still, he had to laugh.

* * *

It hadn’t really gone at all how Shinji had expected, but – then again – if he were to tell the truth these little meetings with Aizen never went as he expected . . .

He didn’t trust the guy, he never had done. Aizen was a sneak, a sadist, a liar, he was a condescending, two-faced, arrogant little shit who’d break his own grandma’s neck if it meant he’d get a dollar or two from it. Aizen was the epitome of duplicity, to those who didn’t know him well he’d put on a little nerdy expression, talk real slow and wear thick-rimmed glasses, acting like a kind of academic who’d spent so long in a stuffy little lecture hall he’d forgotten what it meant to be human. It was an act the bookworm seemed to like, and why wouldn’t he? By acting like the fatherly figure he won everyone’s trust, got them all on his side, got inside their heads and made them trust him, not once ever indicating to them he was really a slimy bastard who’d screw them over. You’d think though that if he put on an act for the idiots who didn’t know him, or didn’t want to know him, he’d at least be honest to the ones that did, but if that was what you thought then you’d be wrong. To the people he was closest too he’d put on a Gin-like smile, always smirking in a kind of scheming way as if he were working out the cost of taking you to court versus the profit he’d make from it, a kind of calculating look that’d give you shivers, as if Death were standing next to you doing out loud math sums as he stared at you. You either had ‘honest, smiling Aizen’ or ‘scheming, smirking Aizen’ but you never got just Aizen Sosuke, the man behind the mask. In fact Shinji wasn’t even saw if Aizen knew who he was anymore, if he even recognised his face in a mirror, because everything about the man was nothing but an act, a mask, a lie. No, he’d never trust the man, and he felt sorry for anyone that could.

There’d been a time when Shinji had foolishly thought that simply distrusting Aizen was enough, that if he kept the man at arm’s length there’d be no way for the brunet to get to him, to hurt him. He’d been an idiot thinking that. Aizen was kind of like a scorpion, just because you pinned the head didn’t mean that the tail lacked a bite of its own, and that’s exactly what happened to Shinji: he’d held the man back but not seen the real attack coming. In fact it was probably by keeping the man at arm’s length that had enabled him to real get Shinji, to attack him where it hurt and milk him for all he was worth, because – let’s face it – if Shinji had ever bothered to look behind that mask, see the guy for who he really was rather than shunning him, then he would have known what to expect. He couldn’t blame Aizen for doing what he did, after all you can’t stop a hound from chasing a rabbit, and you can’t stop a man like Aizen from wanting blood from those around him. If anything it was Shinji’s fault, he should have seen it coming.

That was the thing though, it didn’t matter how much Shinji truly got to know Aizen, how long he’d spend in his company, how much he read up on the guy . . . he never honestly knew what to expect. The guy just seemed to wrap his lies up so well that each time you thought you’d gotten to the bottom of the mystery there was another one waiting, and more importantly Shinji never knew how to react to that. It was like each time he found out something new he’d react accordingly, but that conniving little shit always planned that one step ahead and outsmarted Shinji at the last minute, no matter how well Shinji planned things or thought he perceived them. He wished he could be like some of the others, like some of the men who worked with Aizen or like some of their friends, the sort of person who could just go with the flow and shrug it all off, never really reacting because they knew that there was no point in reacting, that whatever happened they’d always be something else around the corner to deal with. One of these days he’d find a way to beat him, one of these days he’d finally understand him, and when he did he’d crush the man into dust and make him pay – he’d make him pay for everything.

He’d had a feeling when he came crawling to Aizen’s house of what to expect. They’d be a huge settlement fee to pay of course, a ‘heartfelt’ apology and of course a little game of ‘do whatever the nerd wanted’ to sweeten the deal and tempt Aizen into going along with things. If there’s one thing that freak liked it was getting one over on people, manipulating them and humiliating them, and so he’d offered himself up as a willing slave for the night, willing to completely debase himself for Aizen’s pleasure in order to save his ass. He couldn’t care less what Aizen made him do really, because the guy was a worm and his opinion meant squat to Shinji, and ultimately it’d mean he got the one-up because he’d get off the hook whilst all Aizen got was a one-night gig of feeling superior to his ex-lover. Admittedly he’d just expected a quick lay and to be gone in an hour, but Aizen had decided upon complete humiliation and instead gave him degrading tasks like barking like a dog, licking his shoes or begging for forgiveness. There’d been a couple of times where Shinji had nearly punched him in the jaw, but he didn’t, he was aware that this was the only way of sparing Hiyori and the company and he’d played along. What did it matter in the long run? If Aizen wanted to play games then let him, it wasn’t as if Shinji cared less, in fact it just proved the lawyer to be a sad, pathetic man who needed to put people down to feel better about himself. In fact, that should have been the end of it, but it seemed Aizen had one last request . . .

It seemed he’d wanted a quick lay, a lot like Shinji had expected, and sure he’d given him one because – quite frankly – Aizen was a damned good lay. What he hadn’t expected was for one lay to become three, and for three to last the entire remainder of the night. What was worse was how Shinji had enjoyed every second of it, even begged for it, and what’s more was actually considering coming back for more in the future, which was frankly asking for trouble.

Okay, so it was likely to end in insane accusations, court cases, lawsuits, tabloid gossip or even heartbreak, but so what? It was some of the best sex he’d had in a long while, maybe even in his whole life, because he wasn’t going to lie: Aizen was one of the best he’d ever had. This night alone had reminded him of everything they’d used to have, all the fun times and all the sleepless nights that were just too perfect to regret, every second they’d spent screwing each other’s brains out and the moments that ended with Shinji screaming Aizen’s name. The first time that evening saw the brunet on all fours as Shinji nearly passed out from pleasure coming inside his lover, the second time came a while later as they moved into the bedroom with Aizen tied to his bed and Shinji riding him from above, and the third time . . .

After the second time they’d slept for a couple of hours, and at some point Shinji had awoken around six a.m. to his new lover nibbling his ear and stroking his newly forming erection to full mast. He’d forgotten how good it was to be woken up that way, and he didn’t give a flying fuck that he was due in for work in an hour’s time, this was all for Hiyori’s benefit after all, it wasn’t like she could complain or anything, because he was doing this for her, not as though he could walk away from it all now. Then again he couldn’t walk away from it even if he wanted too, it was just too damned good!

He continued to fake sleep for a few more minutes, simply relishing in the sensations that surrounded him. The black, satin bed-sheets under him felt cool against his warm skin, providing him with a sense of relief, and the way they twisted and wrapped around his legs made him feel both vulnerable and secure. At some point during their second bout of sex Shinji must have tangled his legs in the sheets before passing out next to Aizen, and he kind of enjoyed the feeling. It was like being encased in a warm cocoon, but it also left him defenceless to whatever Aizen had planned, sending chills down his spine, making him want to throw up his arms and surrender to whatever his lover had planned. He almost moaned as he caught a scent in the air, one that he’d almost forgotten and one that he always enjoyed, it was the heady and weighted scent of sex and sweat, and of course with traces of Aizen’s subtle cologne drifting through. He’d have to shower before he left of course, because if Hiyori or Kisuke caught the scent they’d know at once what he’d been up to, and that’d be completely awkward, perhaps even more awkward than having to sneak out from the party so Kisuke didn’t catch him. Still, he was an adult, right? Surely his friends couldn’t fault him for wanting to save Hiyori’s neck the best way he knew how, and surely they wouldn’t argue that a night of pleasure was the best way to spend a night? It wasn’t as if they hadn’t ever had questionable bed partners or done unethical things themselves, they were bound to understand . . . Shinji was only human after all.

It was then that Aizen began to trail kisses along his neck, hard and passionate kisses that had him arching his neck and back in instinct, baring more of the long column of skin to his lover to get more. He loved how soft Aizen’s lips felt, how he still memorised the right pressure points and nerves on Shinji’s body that would send him into a moaning mess, how occasionally he’d bite gently down onto his skin with such increasing pressure he’d worry that the skin would break, before nursing it with forcefully sucking and lathing the area with his tongue. Before Shinji could stop himself he was already loudly moaning, his throat letting out keening noises of pleasure and arousal, his right hand snaking its way up and behind to reach for Aizen’s brown locks, gripping his hair with a passion he’d nearly forgotten, pulling his head down for more contact, more kisses, more bites.

He could feel his lover behind him, his chest pressed against Shinji’s back, their bodies aligned with one another almost perfectly, almost – if it wasn’t for their hatred or loathing – romantically. It was as if their bodies were made for one another, both pressed so tightly against each other that it seemed they’d become one, and Aizen’s legs bending with Shinji’s own tied up pair as if he knew exactly how he lover would move, how he’d need to move in response to keep parallel to him. The feeling of Aizen’s right hand stroking his growing erection was enough to distract him from his sleepy meanderings. His hand seemed to fit perfectly over Shinji’s arousal, encircling it with such familiarity that it made the blonde wonder if his lover had actually been with anyone else in his absence, as if through all this time Aizen had simply been waiting for Shinji, unwilling to take any other partner, unwilling to forget, merely existing to wait until this moment. His grip was loose, not tight enough to cause any real pleasure but just firm enough to tease, to coax, to hint at pleasures to come, moving slowly and methodically in a steady rhythm.

Yet it wasn’t anything that Aizen was consciously doing that got Shinji hot and needy, it was how he could feel Aizen’s erection pressing firmly along the crease of his buttocks, how he could feel the man’s hot breath on his skin, and how Aizen wanted, needed Shinji. He wanted him so badly that he’d bottomed the first time, was willing to go again a second time, and now was willing to actually play with Shinji to wake him up to go for a third time. It made the Vizard feel needed, like someone actually needed him and wanted him, like he was actually superior in a way to Aizen! After all he had been the one sleeping and he wasn’t the one raring to go again, so surely that meant he had the control, that he was the one tempting Aizen and making him do as he wanted, making the Arrancar lawyer give into his needs and demands? Sure it might make him as pathetic as his lover, just being happy to get the one-up on someone so despised, but he couldn’t help it, this was Aizen, the man he loathed, hated and detested, the man who’d wrecked his career and made his life hell . . . if he could get just one moment of control, just one moment of having his lover under his grasp, then he wasn’t just happy, he was fucking ecstatic! He’d definitely be throwing this moment back in Aizen’s face later that was for sure.

Truthfully he loved sex with Aizen, it was never dull and never bad, but with the party ending at around eleven and not getting into Aizen’s place until around two-thirty, followed by two rounds of sex, he was completely exhausted and drained. Besides that his legs were completely trapped by the stupid sheets, and with Aizen lying behind him, refusing to move, it made reciprocating pretty damned hard. Ah, whatever, if Aizen wanted it then he could work for it, Shinji had kept his end of the deal already, the way he saw it if Aizen wanted extra then it wasn’t up to him to provide it. In fact it was better not to provide it, that way he could mock the idiot lawyer when it was all done for not having any self-control, for wanting Shinji to the point he was willing to give up control! Besides, the kisses felt good and at least if he got to walk with a limp the next day he could throw it in Hiyori’s face, he doubted that girl had ever gotten laid in a life . . . come to think of it, it would explain her attitude problem.

He gave a deep sigh as Aizen slid his hand away from his erection and down to his buttocks, massaging them expertly as he began to give slow, shallow thrusts in the groove between each cheek. His left hand had at some point sneaked its way under Shinji’s side and came around him, pulling him tight against Aizen’s body, as those long fingers began to play with his hardening nipple, sending shivers down his spine. The distraction was enough to relax Shinji, to cause his body to loosen as he let out a strangled sound of lust, before feeling Aizen slide in two fingers into his behind. They didn’t need to waste time with preparation, only two hours ago Shinji had been riding Aizen, and he was still plenty loose and lubricated enough for them to forgo too much foreplay. Instead he allowed his body to relish in the feeling, to enjoy how full he felt and how stretched as two fingers became three, and how Aizen knew almost immediately where his pleasure spot would be, working it as it were the most natural thing in the world. The very touch had Shinji arching back, beginning to writhe against his partner’s hand . . .

God, he wasn’t supposed to be enjoying it this much! He was supposed to be having the upper hand here! Still, it wasn’t as if he instigated this at all, and it was all for Hiyori too because if he didn’t do this they’d be a huge court case, so it wasn’t as if he couldn’t allow himself a moment of pleasure, right? After all he was settling this out of court, getting a good screw and ultimately getting one over on Aizen, so there wasn’t really much harm in enjoying things, it wasn’t as if it’d take away his edge at all. In fact it was better that he enjoyed this! If he enjoyed it then he was getting more out of it, one more thing to throw in Aizen’s geeky, little face! In fact he owed it to himself to enjoy it, right?

Shinji held back a groan of loss as the fingers were removed, but instead let out a loud gasp of surprise as he felt Aizen’s long length sliding inside of him. His lover’s hand wrapping deftly around his own arousal, this time with a firm grip and a steady rhythm that spoke clearly that he sought for Shinji’s release. It really did feel almost too good! He’d given in pretty easily when Aizen had asked for sex because he knew how good it would feel, but now that he had he was scared he’d return to the addiction he once had when they were first together, where he’d crave for Aizen and force him into sex in the most mind-blowing of places and positions. They couldn’t go back to the way things were, they just couldn’t! Yet, this felt so good, so damned good, would it hurt it they carried on sleeping together, even if they hated one another? Maybe it was the hatred that made it the sweeter; maybe they needed to do this . . .

It was different to usual. Last night they’d been so fast and forceful, it’d been almost brutal and rough, but Aizen was now moving so slowly, so gently, his kisses almost soft as butterflies on his neck, and his hand almost like a real lover’s on his member. It was good, great in fact, kind of passionate yet satisfying, but he couldn’t help but wonder about the change. Maybe Aizen was just tired, maybe he just felt like a quick and soft screw to take off the edge before work, or maybe he just wanted one last go before Shinji left but simply didn’t have the energy . . . or maybe this was another game, maybe he was being played, manipulated?

Still, damn it, it felt so perfect! With each rolling thrust Aizen seemed to hit his spot just right, each move stroking and rubbing against the place that had Shinji seeing stars, and the way he pumped Shinji’s member had him groaning out despite his hatred of Aizen, bucking his hips and moving in time, desperate for more of that pleasure. He could hear Aizen’s soft panting beside his ear, feel his hot breath stroking and moistening his skin, and most of all he could smell the scent of sweat beginning to permeate further into the air around them. The pleasure was too intense, his every nerve felt alight, his muscles twitching and flexing of their own accord, his inner channel contracting around Aizen with every inward thrust. A layer of sweat covered his body, his vision beginning to blur as he moaned all the louder, drowning out the soft sounds of his lover, and his entire body feeling hot, heavy, electrified. Any second now and he would come, he couldn’t control it, it was just too much, too damned much . . .

Shinji arched his back with a scream so loud his throat ached, his eyes closing shut as he felt nothing but a sense of sheer bliss, a feeling of delight so extreme that it threatened to destroy his very being. He could feel his toes curling, his legs aching so hard that they nearly cramped, and most of all he could feel the way Aizen felt inside him as his inner walls gave spasms around him. His member shot what seemed ropes after ropes of come, covering his stomach in an instant, and inside him he could feel an almost full, burning, sticky sensation as his lover came with a harsh bite upon Shinji’s neck. Shinji was still shuddering minutes later as his orgasm died away, leaving him with the feeling of a magnificent after-glow, his body panting for breath as his mind reeled elsewhere from such an intense, heavenly feeling. How was it Aizen made him feel this way every time? How was it Aizen had such skills at what he did?

He winced as his lover pulled out, making him feel almost sore inside and certainly empty and felt almost cold as Aizen pulled away, taking his body heat with him. It seemed all the lawyer wanted really was just a quick screw to take the edge of, because right away he was folding Shinji’s clothes in a neat pile, throwing his own soiled attire into a nearby basket and fishing out paperwork, probably ready for Shinji to sign the very second he could remember his name. Of course Aizen had made Shinji sign all the papers before they’d had sex, but knowing the lawyer he probably had copies to sign or something. . .

It was just like Aizen, all work and no play . . . Tch, at least Shinji knew how to have a good time, at least he wasn’t some stuck-up, workaholic like his ex-lover was, you’d think even a man like Aizen could spend a minute in bed just basking in the glow of sex, but it seemed not. Shinji really shouldn’t have expected much from the guy, after all this was how it all turned out as, pathetic really.

“Ya not seriously going to start working at a time like this, are ya?” Shinji sneered. “Ya got far less class than I thought, the very least ya could do is at least say ‘thank you’ for a hot steamy night. Ya think I put out like that for anyone?”

“Oh? I am sorry, Hirako-san. It is just you slept with me so I would accept your settlement, thus dropping official charges and saving your company, did you not? Such an actions implies that the profit of your company was worth more to you than your dignity and self-respect.” Aizen fixed a cufflink to his shirt as he leant against the corner poster of the bed, half-dressed but still managing to look elegant as ever, “I believe there is a word for people who use sex for money, uncaring over what affect it has upon their reputation. In which case allow me to apologise for not thanking you, after all . . . it is not common practise to thank whores, is it not?”

Shinji immediately sat up upon those words.

His perpetual smile had fallen considerably; instead his eyes had narrowed into a dark glower, his cheeks flushed with his ire and his hands nearly tearing holes into Aizen’s sheets as he clenched his fists tightly upon them.

That – that bastard! How dare he call Shinji a whore? Damn him! Wasn’t Aizen the one who’d originally slept with him in order to lure him into a court battle, stealing all his money? If anyone was a whore it was Aizen! God-freaking-damn it, he was going to kill that money-hungry hound, put him down without a second thought, hang him from the top of the nearest building as a lesson for anyone who dared call Shinji such offensive names ever again! In fact nothing was stopping him from going over to the guy and punching his lights out right now, in fact nothing would make him happier than to see Aizen lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood as he took back those damned words of his! He’d really make the guy pay, he wasn’t just about to be used and then insulted like this, oh hell no!

“Oh, and Shinji?” Aizen said smugly, a smile playing across his features as he added the few last finishing touches to his suit and hair, “You’re welcome to use my shower and any spare clothes, I shall also have one of my maids bring you up a tray of your favourite breakfast. I should ask you to refrain from violence however. There is a security camera in every room, but I’m afraid the one in my study does not pick up sound, and the one in my bedroom is broken. Should you attack me I would have no choice but to take the video to court, the one of you viciously pounding into me from behind before dragging me away to a place off-camera, and on top of photographs of the bodily harm that you intend to inflict -? This time you may end up with jail time. Of course I have no intent to do such a thing . . . providing you keep your fists to yourself.”

Aizen stole a quick glance over to Shinji and smiled brightly as he saw the blond man physically shaking from anger, his entire body quivering like a leaf in the wind as he bit his lip to stop from letting out any damaging retorts. It was always a delightful sight to see his dear old sensei losing control in such a manner, especially seeing as just moments ago he had assumed the control was his.

“You may take your time leaving, I do not intend to be back home until late this evening,” and as much as he tried to eradicate the tone of smugness to his voice, it just couldn’t be done. “Farewell, Shinji, and thank you for allowing me to have the pleasure of seeing your adorable expression of defeat just one last time. It is one I shall never forget, I assure you.”

The lamp that went flying across the room smashed against a now closed door, missing Aizen by about a tenth-of-a-second. It was probably for the best in the long run, but Shinji still regretted not seeing Aizen’s blood trickling over the floor.

Bastard.