Whatever It Takes

Title: Whatever It Takes
Rating: T
Words: 2485
Warning: boykisses, angst, OOCness


Part Two – Renji


The sound of the slammed door echoes in Renji’s ear. All he manages to catch is the sight of Ichigo disappearing out the door. He hadn’t [hasn't] even been able to get a word in edgewise. Not unsurprising considering that there is little that can get Ichigo’s attention when he’s not pleased.

Not even the two of them – Renji and Uryuu – together.

Sometimes, Renji’s still surprised that it works between them. Though if recent events have anything to say it’s that this little threesome of theirs doesn’t work. Renji’s in Soul Society. Uryuu and Ichigo are here. Sometimes, it feels like the balance is off or nonexistent. Renji and Uryuu have managed to move on after Aizen’s War and Ichigo… hasn’t. He’s just here, lingering, wandering from place to place as though he’s searching for something he just can’t find.

Who started it? When did things begin? Even some three years later, Renji still can’t figure it out. He thinks it had to have been Uryuu. For all his standoffish behavior, the Quincy is a master manipulator. He goes after what he wants without hesitation. Same for Ichigo. All Renji can remember is never saying no, never even thinking to say no. Not to either of them.

Sometimes, he swears they all forget that. This isn’t just Ichigo and Uryuu with Renji occasionally stopping by when he can get the time off. Or just Ichigo and Renji unless the former happens to be in the Living World where Uryuu is always convenient. It’s the three of them, together, all at once.

Why can’t they seem to remember this?

Resisting the urge to scowl, Renji storms back into the kitchen already knowing who to blame. If Uryuu hadn’t started in with all that self-righteous bullshit, then Ichigo wouldn’t have gotten pissed off.

“That went well,” the Quincy mutters as soon as Renji comes in sight. Uryuu’s standing over the oven as though Ichigo’s lasagna will cook any faster for the way he’s intently staring at it. Mouth downturned in a frown, a pinched look to his face that implies Uryuu thinks it’s all Renji’s fault rather than the other way around.

Outrage builds in his chest, and Renji bites back a growl, swallowing the rising need to fight within him. Their arguing isn’t going to make things better; he doesn’t know why Uryuu can’t see it.

“Why did you do that?” Renji demands, hands forming fists at his side before he can stop himself.

“What? Remind Ichigo that he doesn’t have to go to Soul Society just because three of its captains are trying to persuade him?” Uryuu retorts without looking Renji’s direction, a prissy set to his shoulders accompanied by a prissy sniff that only goes to show how right the prissy bastard thinks he is.

Renji twists his jaw. “Yeah, that fer starters,” he says, and pulls open the fridge, searching the contents if only to keep from blowing up violently. “I’m just tryin’ ta give him some options.”

“The ones you’d prefer he picked,” Uryuu retorts, and turns away from the oven, arms crossed defensively over his chest. His glasses glint oddly in the sterile white light of the kitchen. “Excuse me if I prefer to think logically. What do you think Seireitei’s going to do when Ichigo’s outlived his usefulness?”

Nothing appeals to him. Renji shuts the fridge door with perhaps a bit more force than is necessary. “That’s not going to happen.”

“My ancestors thought that, too. You see what’s become of them,” Uryuu says bitterly, his eyes narrowing with old anger, old hurt.

There’s nothing much Renji can do about that. He understands where Uryuu’s coming from but he still doesn’t think there’s anything to worry about.

“That’s not the same thing,” Renji protests, and tries to approach Uryuu, but the Quincy is being pricklier than a cactus right now, body language all but screaming to keep distance between them. “Ichigo’s a hero. He defeated Aizen for kamisakes. We’re not just suddenly gonna turn around and try to kill him.”

Uryuu sniffs, looking away, and Renji knows that most of his protest is borne from worry. If Renji wasn’t so certain that Seireitei would never try to hurt Ichigo, then he’d be concerned, too. He’d understand Uryuu’s reservations. But honestly, did the Quincy really think Ichigo belonged here? In the Living World where he’s not quite human, not quite Shinigami, not quite Hollow? Where he’s something else entirely?

“Then maybe he doesn’t want to fill the Gotei’s empty spot,” Uryuu mutters.

Renji rolls his eyes. “Ichigo doesn’t know what he wants,” he points out, which is utterly true. Ichigo doesn’t know so all Renji can do is show him the options.

There’s no answer from the Quincy, who is so intently studying the box of garlic toast that he is trying his best to ignore Renji.

Sometimes, Renji has to remind himself that despite their maturity and surviving Aizen’s War, he really is the oldest of the three of them. The most adult. This is one of those times. He bites back a sigh and wonders how he can salvage this. Uryuu is stubborn. Ichigo is stubborn. Renji himself is stubborn. None of them like to admit when they are wrong.

But Renji will be damned if he just lets Ichigo end this and walk away. They’ve been through too much together.

“That’s not the point,” Uryuu mutters, and if Renji doesn’t know better, he’d think that Uryuu is sulking. “It’s that you keep pushing him to your own end.”

“And you’re just as guilty of that as I am,” Renji retorts, grinding his teeth, thinking that this is what Hitsugaya-taichou must feel like with Matsumoto sometimes. It’s like arguing with a brick wall. He’d get more rationality from a talking parakeet.

Sometimes, Renji thinks his life would be a lot easier if he didn’t care so much for having Uryuu in it.

He sighs and tries for another route, dragging a hand over his hair and neatly disrupting his bandanna in the process. “Why are you acting like I’m the enemy?” Renji says, wishing he sounded more angry and fierce, but resigned to appearing hurt. “This is not you and Ichigo and me and Ichigo. This is the three of us. Together. All three of us. Not fightin’ over Ichigo!”

Uryuu’s eyes flash at him like blue fire, a lot like Rukia’s when she thinks he’s said something particularly stupid in fact. “I know that!”

“I’m not sure ya do,” Renji retorts, and crosses the kitchen, gripping Uryuu’s shoulders before the Quincy can skitter out of the way and avoid him like he’s been doing all night. “I thought you and me had something, too, but it’s lookin’ like I’m the only one with something invested.”

“You’re being melodramatic. No one said anything like that.”

Renji grits his teeth, resists the urge to shake Uryuu until he manages to rattle some sense into that stubborn Quincy brain. “Ya want Ichigo ta stay here in the Living World with you so badly, but what about me, huh? Ya ever think about that?”

Uryuu twitches, his glasses glinting in the light, mouth twisting with emotion that even after all these years, Renji hasn’t mastered interpreting. “And you two fools with swords can take a jaunt into Soul Society anytime you damn well please while I’m stuck here. What does that say about you, Abarai?”

Oh hell no. Uryuu is not going to go there, putting that polite distance between them as though it hadn’t been discarded more than a year ago. It had taken months for Ichigo and Renji to break Uryuu out of that distancing habit and Renji will be damned if lets Uryuu slide back into it again. Ichigo’s gone, yeah, but they’ll get him back.

Beneath Renji’s grip, Uryuu’s shoulders flex, as though he’s planning to try and separate them again, create some distance, escape. Renji doesn’t want that to happen. He wants Uryuu in his life as much as he wants Ichigo. For Renji, there’s no separating the two.

Renji’s hands slide from Uryuu’s shoulders to his neck, cupping him gently, thumbs stroking under his chin while his fingers tease at Uryuu’s nape. When a verbal protest doesn’t immediately emerge, Renji considers the silence tacit permission and closes the distance between them, his mouth falling over Uryuu’s. An increase in height over the years has made this possible with less strain on Renji’s part, but both Uryuu and Ichigo are still shorter than he.

Uryuu’s lips are soft, tasting vaguely minty, like the chapstick he uses with almost obsessive frequency in the winter. Renji’s tongue flicks against Uryuu’s lips, silently requesting that Uryuu open to him, stop playing games and just accept the truth. There’s a quiet exhalation before Uryuu’s lips part and their tongues touch, warm and wet, a puff of breath accompanying the gentle kiss.

Hands fist in Renji’s shihakushou, pulling him closer until their bodies align and collide. Renji loves the feel of Uryuu pressed against him, all lithe lines and sharp angles beneath his picture-perfect clothing. The kiss deepens, with an odd sense of urgency, as though Uryuu is trying to convey all his regrets and fears through the touch of their lips alone. Renji returns the urgency because he knows, he understands.

He won’t be an idiot and say that he can’t live without Ichigo or Uryuu. Because it’s possible. Shingami aside, he’ll continue to survive. His heart will keep pumping blood. His lungs will draw breath in and out. His limbs will move. He’ll still be a Shinigami, he’ll still have his friends. He won’t even be an empty shell.

But something will definitely be missing, and Renji will notice that absence every second of his life. It’ll hurt, like a knife to the chest, and it’ll heal. But he can survive it; he can live through it.

He just doesn’t want to.

Renji knows Uryuu feels the same way. He doesn’t know what to call it. Love. Desire. A simple matter of need. He doesn’t think there’s a single word that can define the emotions that ripple among the three of them.

The kiss ends and Renji runs his tongue over his lips, as though savoring the taste of Uryuu on them. The subtle pulse of reiatsu in the air is a mix of Shinigami and Quincy, very intriguing as it dances across Renji’s skin, and very familiar. It’s missing an important component; however, something that’ll balance them out.

“We can’t keep arguin’ like that,” Renji says, his hands sliding down to Uryuu’s arms, rubbing them as though trying to keep the Quincy warm. “We’re going to lose him.”

Uryuu sniffs haughtily. “If we do, it’s your fault.”

“It’ll be both our fault,” Renji corrects, feeling his left eyebrow twitch. Why does Uryuu have to be so damn stubborn? “We’re both pushin’ him when he doesn’t want to be pushed.”

“He needs to be pushed,” Uryuu mutters, and pushes his glasses up with one finger. The fight has gone out of his voice though.

“Yeah. And prodded in th’ back with a hot rod, too,” Renji agrees, unable to fight the grin that curls his lips.

Uryuu’s mouth quirks into a smile – one that’s even more harming for its rarity – before he slides into the more familiar frown. “He said he was done.”

“He’s said that before.”

“This time, he meant it.”

Renji rolls his eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“I’ve a pretty good guess,” Uryuu retorts, but it lacks heat. There’s nothing but worry in his tone. He won’t admit to the thought of Ichigo leaving them as something painful, but Renji knows Uryuu feels it all the same. The echoes of it reverberate through Renji as well.

He leans over, closes his lips over Uryuu’s again, a kiss more fierce and demanding than before. He loves the way Uryuu tastes, loves the flick of Uryuu’s tongue against his, the feel of agile fingers spider-walking over his body. Touches more teasing than demanding, so different from Ichigo['s,] but equally arousing.

“We’re going to get him back,” Renji says, ending the kiss as his fingers curl around Uryuu’s arm, holding the Quincy close to him.

Uryuu nods, eyes flashing, bright and determined. “Of course we are.”

Grinning, Renji resists the urge to show off how smug he feels. “Great. So how are we going ta do it?”

“What? You don’t know?” Uryuu arches a brow at him, giving an amusing impression of superiority.

“Hell, I’m not the one with the plans, I just fight.”

A fact which makes Uryuu sigh, and is something he knows all too well. Neither Ichigo nor Renji ever bother with making a plan ahead of time. It’s easier to just barge in, zanpakutou swinging, and clear a path through the enemy.

“You and Ichigo could both benefit from a bit of planning.” Uryuu frowns, brow wrinkling in thought. “Ichigo will have to come here eventually. All we have to do is wait.”

Renji scowls. “I don’t like to wait. Let’s just corner him at Urahara’s.”

“If he’s even there,” Uryuu says, and one hand settles on Renji’s hip, squeezing purposefully. He isn’t looking at Renji, but there’s a mischievous set to his eyes that Renji knows very well. “But he’ll eventually have to come back here.”

“So we’ll just corner him here.”

“No.”

Renji furrows his brow. Despite being with Uryuu for years, sometimes, he just doesn’t understand the prissy bastard at all. “Why not?” he asks, growing a tad annoyed.

Uryuu works his way free from Renji’s arms, moving to check on the lasagna that’s bubbling in its pan. “Ichigo will expect that.”

“And you want to…surprise him?” Renji asks, inhaling the strong scent of tomatoes and garlic that’s beginning to fill the air. His mouth waters at the thought of the pasta dish. It’s a treat for Renji to eat Ichigo’s cooking, which is surprisingly good. He supposes Yuzu’s been teaching him.

“Something like that,” Uryuu says and closes the oven with a thunk, adjusting his glasses with the tip of his pointer finger. “I’m not going to let him run away like that. He’s ours, whether he realizes it or not.”

Renji’s mouth curls into a knowing smirk. “Oh, so now yer claiming me, huh? How did I make it onto the great Quincy’s list?”

Uryuu rolls his eyes and grabs Renji’s arm, dragging him closer. “You idiot,” he mutters, all haughty pride as usual. “You’ve always been there.”

The kiss that follows is all the sweeter for the grin that curls Renji’s lips. He lets the sensation of Uryuu wound around him chase away the worry about Ichigo. They’ll get him back; he’s sure of it. Ichigo might be stubborn, but Uryuu and Renji together are a force to be reckoned with.

They’ll make sure Ichigo understands.

* * *

a/n: So the next update may be a while in coming. Not only does NaNoWriMo start tomorrow but my own computer (my brand new computer) has kicked the bucket inexplicably. I'm still in the process of trying to figure out what's wrong and get it fixed but that tends to cost money and I am broke. All my files were on it as well (thank goodness for betas who keep copies of everything you've sent them) so I won't be able to work on anything I had in progress.

I hope you enjoyed this one, however, and will come back as soon as I can. Feedback and concrit are always welcome.