Tuesdays with Shuuhei

It was Tuesday again. She hated how much she’d come to look forward to Tuesday, detested that she was no longer in serene and complete control of her tidy life. It sucked that she found herself grinning for no apparent reason, humming to herself out of nowhere. Her captain, who normally pointedly ignored her (which was probably why she took such enormous pleasure in fawning over him and making him uncomfortable) had even noticed. She’d caught him staring at her a few times when she was certain her face was fixed in a particularly dreamy expression.

It was Tuesday again, finally, and she was nervous and excited and absolutely throbbing. She didn’t even try to pretend like she was working, didn’t even try to worm her way out of it. She just lay on the couch and tried to be as unobtrusive as she could about drinking on the job. The sun had just passed its zenith in the sky when Hitsugaya had apparently had enough of her shit and told her she could leave. She fluttered around him like she always did when he displayed his rare bouts of sympathy and good-will, kissing his cheeks, pressing his face into her cleavage, thanking him profusely in her sweetest voice.

She liked it when he blushed and got all flustered, loved it when his face glowed bright red from embarrassment. Even after all she put him through, all the drunkenness, the slacking off, the unnecessary clinginess she knew he hated, she knew he had her back. He was the one person she trusted implicitly, and, before she’d started this nonsense with Shuuhei (she really must remember to call him Hisagi when they were not in her home), she’d sometimes wished he was just a little taller, a tad older, a bit less serious. In other words, a little more her type.

It wouldn’t have worked out between her and her darling, little Captain. It was obvious that they would have ended up hating each other, but she did wish that he could find some tiny bit of the sex (and the unacknowledged happiness) she seemed to have stumbled into. Maybe that would make him smile more.

~*~

Shuuhei had woken up with a giant, aching case of morning wood. The discomfort was amplified by the fact that he had woken up late and hadn’t had the time to jerk himself off properly. All day long, while he tried to keep up with the average, daily banging-his-head-against-a-brick-wall crap that was what running his division had become, he kept popping inconvenient boners out of nowhere.

His hakama would rub his dick the wrong way, and there it was- boing. His thoughts would drift, for a teeny, tiny microsecond, to the woman he was meeting that very night and he’d have to retreat behind his desk till his raging hard-on subsided. It wasn’t fair.

It pissed him off, when he allowed himself to think about it, that he’d somehow gotten himself in some kind of twisted, fucked up, freaking weird pseudo-relationship with a woman he’d spent years drinking away countless nights with. Nights he’d finished either alone and spanking the proverbial monkey, or with some interchangeable chick he’d picked up at the bar and screwed while imagining she had giant tits and reddish blonde hair.

It was one thing to joke with Kyouraku about rescuing their over-endowed drinking buddy from unlikely danger and copping a feel, but it was another to actually have his face between those massive boobs as she tied him up.

No, it was fair in the slightest.

He still counted the hours, minutes, hell, the seconds until nine thirty rolled around and he could finally ease the ache that she had wrought in him.

~*~

There were too many hours till nine thirty for her to want to spend alone. She wandered through the Seireitei until she had extracted promises from first Shunsui, then Kira, followed by Iba and finally an inexplicably surly Renji, to meet at the bar. The latter she’d cornered, not in his office where she’d expected him, but rather in his nearly immaculate quarters. She’d never, ever seen any place he’d stayed in that clean, just as she’d never seen him quite so broken.

She resisted the urge to pry, though she was dying to find out what had happened to make him all doom-and-gloom. Instead she played her typical party-girl/drinking-fiend role, figuring he needed normalcy more than he wanted a shoulder to cry on and convinced him to drown his sorrows in the most typical of fashions.

She was practically giddy by the time she’d gotten to the bar. It irked the ever-lasting shit out of her. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t good that she was so wound up over another man, of all things. Rangiku tried to tamp down that unwelcome, blasted annoying sense of overwhelming excitement. It didn’t fricken work.

The alcohol should have allowed her to sink into a state of perfectly drunken cavalier, selfish apathy. It didn’t. The company she’d manipulated into coming should have distracted her. It didn’t. She watched and listened to those familiar men around her, pretending interest, faking laughter. All the while, she couldn’t help but to keep an eye on the time.

When Shuuhei showed up, she knew she was in trouble. She had purposely not invited him; he had to know that, the fucker. The enthusiastic greetings of the semi-inebriated men were, she knew, because Renji had been an atypically depressing presence at their table, and they wanted a distraction from the black cloud he’d managed to swirl around them. Unfortunately, she had to match the tone of those welcoming remarks, but not appear too exciting to see him. She was playing a dangerous game of balancing on the edge of a sword she had created.

She had told him to never let anybody find about them, arrogantly assuming that if any should find out about the, it would be because of him. It had simply never occurred to her that she would be the problem.

The issue was, of course, that she couldn’t let her eyes light up too much at the sight of him, that she couldn’t let her eyes linger too long on the exposed flesh of his well-toned arms. She couldn’t let on that she was desperately happy to see him, that just the sight of him had turned her insides liquid, that she wanted to drag him out back and fuck his brains out against a wall and the agreement, and embarrassing consequences be damned.

Rangiku Matsumoto wanted to stare her fill of him, but someone might notice. He, however, seemed entirely unaffected by her, nodding shortly in her direction when she’d tossed the “Hello, Hisagi-san! Come, come, drink and be merry!” at him.

Before she’d started the ill-advised thing with him, he’d regularly looked at her, laughed with her and at her, had in fact, seemed entirely comfortable in her company. They hadn’t been particularly close, but they had been buddies… Hadn’t they?

She didn’t like the uncertainty, the unfamiliarity of the situation she’d created. She’d had control over her life before, and now it was all spiraling away from her. Feelings. What utter bullshit. No, right then, she didn’t like where she’d ended up one tiny, little bit.

~*~

Kyouraku hadn’t mentioned that she’d be there. Although, he supposed it shouldn’t have surprised him. She looked, as she always did, absolutely, mouth-wateringly gorgeous. She looked at him with those bright eyes and something inside just crumbled. Words stuck in his throat and he all he could do was nod when she said hello with that same eager, bright tone she always used when they met out for drinks.

The flush in her cheeks, the one that had gotten there from the alcohol she guzzled with such delightful abandon, was so familiar, so similar to the one she got after an orgasm. It was entirely the wrong thing to think about in his current hair-trigger state and he avoided looking at her to try to rectify the rather annoying state of his nether-regions.

Between the drinking and Abarai’s distracting bout of the pouts, he barely noticed that she occasionally stared at him. He did, however notice that she became exasperated and smacked Abarai up-side the back of his head when he muttered something disparaging about women for the fiftieth time since he’d sat down. Rising to her rather considerable full height, towering over the group, she smiled widely as she reached down and pinched Abarai’s cheek hard enough to make the man wince.

“As much fun as this has been, gentlemen, I’ll see you all later,” she said with that characteristic sweetness he knew was a front.

There were the obligatory protests from the other men as she walked away, hips swaying seductively under her uniform. She paused at the entrance, turned to look over her shoulder to wink dramatically and waggle her fingers in farewell at the group before she exited the bar in a flutter of black fabric.

It was only eight fifteen. And he had yet another raging, inconvenient hard-on.

~*~

For once she wished her place was messy, just so she’d have something mindless and distracting to do while she waited. She couldn’t believe that she had reduced herself to waiting for a man again. Ugh. Would she never learn?

The hard lessons Gin had taught her over and over again, ad nauseum, had never faded, would never be forgotten. She certainly knew better than to open any part of herself for external scrutiny again. Somehow, it still didn’t stop her from repeating her mistakes. She’d thought that the carefully crafted distance of rules and bindings would allow her to keep him at a distance. It had worked for Gin. Why shouldn't work for her?

Her fingers twisted in the silver chain, and unwanted memories flooded her.

Gin, smiling and sweet, eyes reduced to slits as he listened to her news of being accepted into the Academy. He seemed so proud of her and her heart ached as he squeezed her hand hard. When he let go of her hand to dig through the folds of his black uniform, she had another flash of attraction for the man her long-time, childhood friend had become.

She looked down at her dirty tabi, at the worn out sandals as she tried to push the feeling away. One of his familiar hands came into view, holding a small black pouch. She looked up, surprise etched on her features. He was still smiling at her, but it wasn’t quite as wide and his eyes were perfectly clear in his face as he watched her take the pouch and dip her fingers in the opening.

Cool metal slid through her fingers as until she finally hooked what felt like a ring through her index finger. She pulled out her hand and felt nothing but delight and wonder that he had thought to give her jewelry. She’d never owned anything of any value before in her life and her hands started to tremble as she examined it more closely.

Exquisitely tiny links formed the long chain, which terminated at either end with silver rings of slightly unequal sizes. She found herself giving an uneasy chuckle as Gin stared at her with a strange look on his face. Rangiku felt his fingers rough texture as he took the chain from her and the pace of her heart sped up painfully as he lifted it above her head. The dual cold sensations of his touch along her neck and collar bones, of the metal as it settled against her skin heated her face in a blush.

He seemed intent on his task until one end of the long chain finally settled between her breasts. She looked down to admire it, taken by the way it looked against her skin. She looked up to thank him and his face was so near she could see the individual pale hairs of his eye lashes. He looked at her softly as his hand reached out and index finger curved through the ring dangling on her belly. He pulled gently, bringing her forward slowly, still staring into her eyes. The chain tightened incrementally around her neck, the metal sliding coolly across the sensitive skin. She was left breathless.

The kiss was soft and lovely and everything she wanted and hoped for. Her eye lids fluttered closed at the first press of his lips on hers. It was over too soon, though. She blinked stupidly as he walked away with that easy, almost animal grace of his. Nobody else she knew walked like that, all loose limbs and fluid motions. She wanted to run after him, like she used to when they were still kids, but she stayed her feet. He’d grown fond of rules since becoming a Shinigami. Rule One, never follow him.

She touched her lips, feeling a ghost of pressing warmth and watched him disappear into the crowds.

Rangiku felt the heated pressure behind her eyelids, the familiar ache of tears. It was so much easier to remember the bad times than the good ones. So much easier to feel anger than despair. To know that he had chosen the betrayal of all they were supposed to have believed in together over her. She’d followed Rule One, though. Never follow him.

She supposed she should feel grateful for that hard-learned lesson. She wished she didn’t still feel that awful love for him anymore. Still, she never wanted to forget the pain. It was better to remember and never make the same mistake again. The chain, always cold and forever a mocking presence against her skin, slipped through her fingers.

She ran her index finger under first one then the other eye and flicked the gathered moisture impatiently away. She had a date, of sorts, to get ready for. She’d be damned if she let a stupid memory of her former lover ruin her opportunity for a good orgasm or, if she was lucky, four. After getting ready, though, another drink to calm her nerves, perhaps?

~*~

It was precisely nine thirty when Shuuhei scratched at her door. As he’d done three other times, he let himself in when she didn’t answer the door. Her hair was braided, but soft-looking tendrils escaped to frame her flushed face. She wore that almost sheer pink kimono loosely belted around her middle, which revealed more than it covered, and she was swaying as she sat cross-legged at her table. There were five empty bottles lined up in a perfect straight line on the gleaming wooden surface of her table, and she was in the process of chugging a sixth one.

She looked up at him, giggled maniacally, slammed the bottle on the table and belched loudly. He flinched at the sound. He wondered briefly if there was something in the air causing all his drinking buddies to throw caution to the wind and get as completely hammered as he’d ever seen them become. She tried to lever herself up and off the floor, but was completely and totally unsuccessful in her attempt. She ended up flat on her back, breathing heavily, those eyes of hers wide as she seemed to contemplate her ceiling.

He heard her mutter something about dust and dirty and a good scrubbing as she squinted one eye shut and stared up with more determination. “On the weekend,” she murmured, “scrub on Saturday; get fucked on Tuesday.” More manic giggling.

“Ran,” he said slowly, softly as he knelt next to her. He tried to help her up, but she smacked his hands away.

“Toldja it’s Matsumoto-sama,” she slurred. This time she actually managed to get upright almost all the way before she tumbled back down in an awkward kneeling position. Her left hand scrabbled between her breasts, where the chain she wore normally hung. She never wore it when they were together. He hadn’t thought until that moment to wonder why. “Balls,” was all she said, as if she knew she’d been defeated by her alcohol-ridden body. The slump of her shoulders was something he’d never thought he’d ever see on her.

His next decision was easy to make. When he scooped her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom he was so familiar with, her head lolled against his chest weakly and her hand clasped the front of his uniform tightly. As he propped her up carefully next to him, he dragged the sheet down quickly. It took some maneuvering, but he managed to get her tucked in and comfortable looking without letting her fall over first. Her eye lids fluttered and she blinked, focusing those stormy blue eyes on him. She feebly patted the space on the mattress next to her, and his heart stuttered a little at how vulnerable and open she looked at that moment.

“Stay,” she whispered, “Please?”

Her eyes stayed open and he knew she could see the surprise he felt that she’d said that word to him, that the question sounded more like pleading. Normally, she was all about commands, about control. He nodded slowly, and she smiled contentedly, snuggling into her bed, dragging the covers higher. He watched her as she watched him undress. She’d seen him do that eight times now, but her face had never held that expression. He wished he could decipher what it was.

He crawled into to bed with her and kept a few inches between them as he tried to settle himself. She shifted on her side to face him balancing her head on her bicep. She curled her arm around her head so her fingers softly brushed her throat. The childishness of her pose and tilt of her lips was at odds with the other faces she wore with him. The woman before him now was a stranger.

“I’m glad you stayed,” she whispered and her eyes drifted shut. It wasn’t long before her breathing evened out in a pattern he was sure meant sleep. Her arm flopped backward and she snorted suddenly at the movement. He smiled and reached out to brush a lock of hair from her face. She sighed in her sleep.

He watched her sleep, thinking slow, round-about thoughts, wondering about her, knowing there was more to her then the drink-happy goofball or the controlling woman who held herself above him every Tuesday. He stayed like that until the candles guttered, then stared into the darkness surrounding her till sleep claimed him for a prize.

~*~

I had a slight case of writers block. Forced myself to write, and felt more creative, but I was stuck on how to proceed. Then this song came on, and a light came on. So English Beat FTW (don't own/make money from etc, etc), as far as this chapter is concerned.
Also, even though I had high hopes as far as leaving actual plot out of this story, I was foiled. So this is no longer PWP. But more porn is coming. When, I do not know. But soon, hopefully.
Worth mentioning, this apparently takes place in the same 'verse as 'Words', which I hadn't really intended when I started. Weird how that happens. However, I don't expect much in the way of cross-over, just tidbits here and there.

Thanks as always to everybody reading, and huggles to reviewers:
7dragon7 (I giggled and cackled writing that), Toast (I live for renruki, but this couple is 'teh sex'), Tiramisu (thank you! I hope you enjoy the rest of my stuff), Jimaine (shhh- don't say that out loud! he needs to figure that out first-LOL)

Hope you all have a happy and safe new year!

Please review, darlings. I'm a broken record and completely without shame. I adore hearing from y'all.