Acciaccatura

Chapter 4

Byakuya broke the kiss first, but didn’t go very far, one hand still in Ichigo’s unruly hair to hold him still, their mouths still touching. Ichigo made a quiet sound in his throat that Byakuya almost missed, and the captain resisted the urge to crush the young Shinigami to him and claim his mouth with kisses far less gentle than the first.

Too much too soon though… well, it would hardly do to scare the boy off. Where the boy had experience in battle, Byakuya could tell by Ichigo’s reaction to his touches that experience did not extend to the bedroom. The unguarded way that the boy shivered against him at the breath on his neck struck Byakuya as surprisingly innocent.

Surely someone else had noticed the boy’s appeal, surely had approached him with offers not unlike Byakuya’s and yet… Ichigo hissed when Byakuya’s hand came in contact with the slightly exposed skin of his chest, closing his eyes as if the touch was too much for him to take.

Byakuya smiled; the boy truly had no idea what was in store for him. Captain Kuchiki pressed a little more insistently at the black fabric at the boy’s shoulder, leaning in to attach his mouth to the revealed flesh, biting down when Ichigo’s hands came up to grip at the long strands of his black hair.

Ichigo shivered then, the action seeming to break him out of his haze and he pulled backwards sharply, trying to wriggle out of Byakuya’s grip. The captain furrowed his brow and let the younger shinigami retreat backwards slightly, though he kept a firm grip around Ichigo’s wrist.

“I—let go,” Ichigo demanded. “I said wait.”

“Is something wrong?” Byakuya asked, face revealing none of his confusion.

“Just, let me think about this.”

The dark haired shinigami hesitated before conceding, releasing Ichigo from his grip reluctantly. “Very well. Please, consider my offer carefully. Is it safe to assume you will have your response by tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Ichigo forced out, looking both terrified and angry.

Byakuya watched the other leave, a feeling of apprehension hanging over him. There was nothing for it, he supposed. For better or worse, he would know Ichigo’s decision tomorrow, and he could plan his next move from there.

Turning back to his desk, Byakuya almost allowed himself a sigh. He poured himself a fresh cup of tea, pausing before taking a sip to savor the taste of Ichigo on his mouth. There was work to be done though, and enticing as the boy was, it would hardly benefit Byakuya any to sit by idly and fantasize about him, tempting as that thought was.

He glanced at Renji’s desk which was relatively uncluttered (mostly due to Byakuya’s insistence that the red head keep his workspace clean than any natural proclivity of his vice captain’s) save for the stack of papers he had abandoned this morning in favor of spending his time with the younger Kuchiki, no doubt.

Byakuya had no sooner thought about sending for him than the red head appeared, looking surlier than usual. He sat down at his desk without a word and started signing documents with the sort of violence that suggested they had personally wronged him. Byakuya watched impassively, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

The captain spared a thought for how calm his life might be without troublesome red heads. Probably a lot more boring, as well, he supposed, dipping his brush in black ink. The moment Byakuya’s brush had settled on the paper, Renji lost it.

“Captain,” he began. Too bad respect for one’s superior wasn’t something Ichigo shared with his vice captain. “What do you think you’re doing, stringing Ichigo along like that?”

Without missing a stroke, Byakuya continued to serenely attend to the papers spread in front of him. “What ever do you mean?”

“You know what I mean!” Renji snapped, slamming his fists on his desk. When Byakuya looked up at him sharply, he had the decency to look at least a little contrite, but the red head didn’t stop frowning at him.

“I don’t know what you think you know about the discussion Kurosaki and I had earlier, but I am certainly not ‘stringing him along’, as you so put it.”

Renji’s scowl deepened. “What did you talk about then?”

Byakuya raised an eyebrow at his subordinate. “That is between Kurosaki and myself, and you would do well not to pry into business that is not your own.” When Renji looked like he was about to continue arguing, Byakuya added, “I will not hesitate to make that an order, should you push the matter.”

Confident the discussion was over, Byakuya turned his full attention to his captain’s duties, wanting to keep Ichigo off of his mind.

At that, Byakuya was relatively successful, but by the time the next evening had rolled around and he was seated for dinner, he was beginning to grow a little concerned. He had desired to instill proper respect in Ichigo since he met the boy, and he couldn’t think of a more brilliant opportunity than this one to make Ichigo relinquish at least some of his power, to offer it up out of his own free will—Byakuya tried not to think of how Ichigo had looked with the late morning light throwing shadows over his skin, lips parted and eyes unfocused.

His game was about having power over Ichigo, and he couldn’t let himself forget that.

When one of his servants knelt by him to inform him of a visitor, Byakuya didn’t let himself get his hopes up. There was any number of people who could be calling on him, though he supposed most would have had the forethought to have mentioned a visit. “Please, let him into the receiving parlor and I will be with him momentarily.”

Byakuya unhurriedly went to receive his guest, finding Ichigo examining one of the ancient scrolls on the wall.

“Kurosaki Ichigo,” Byakuya says, and though Ichigo doesn’t startle, he does seem a little spooked by the captain’s presence, turning to face him, but not meeting his gaze. “I assume you have had sufficient time to consider my proposal?”

Ichigo nodded. “I want… I want you to start from the beginning. I need to know what you’re thinking.”

“Is that a yes then?” When Ichigo nodded again, Byakuya turned back towards his dining room. “Perhaps then, Kurosaki, you would like to make arrangements over dinner?”

“I’m not hungry,” the red head protested. Byakuya turned his head in time to catch sight of Ichigo’s blush when the boy’s stomach growled.

Byakuya motioned for Ichigo to sit when they reached the table. He watched the young shinigami sit awkwardly, amused for once at Ichigo’s ignorance of formality. They made polite conversation until dessert, and Byakuya was pleased to note that the red head didn’t seem totally unfamiliar with table manners, at least.

“So, Kurosaki,” Byakuya said, ready to turn the conversation to his favor, “what was it exactly that you wanted to know?”

Ichigo looked confused for moment, halfway through decimating the slice of cake in front of him. “What?” he asked.

Graceless as ever, Byakuya mused. “I believe you mentioned something about wanting to know what I was thinking,” he supplied.

Ichigo flushed darkly. “I need to know what you want from me, and what I ought to expect from you. Basically,” and Byakuya almost smiled because it really was humorous to see Ichigo trying to be diplomatic about the situation.

“What I want, Kurosaki, is to help you.” It wasn’t entirely a lie and the look of shock on Ichigo’s face was nothing short of enticing all the way down to the guarded look about his eyes. “I can assure you that this will be a most… pleasurable arrangement for both of us.”

“What do you expect from me, then?”

“I expect you to trust me.”

“I don’t trust anyone, Byakuya,” Ichigo said, voice dangerous. Byakuya thought it might have been the most intelligent thing he’d said all night, and overlooked the boy’s breach of etiquette.

“I’ve already said I want to help you. Let me do this for you.” Ichigo was watching him like he was waiting for Byakuya to reveal a catch or to shout ‘surprise!’ and expose the entire thing as a joke.

“Can I end it when I want?” Ichigo asked when Byakuya did neither.

“Yes,” Byakuya replied, hoping Ichigo hadn’t caught his moment of hesitation. “If that is your wish.”

“Yeah,” Ichigo said, swallowing. Byakuya watched his throat work, enticed.

“I won’t turn into a monster while your gaze is turned, Kurosaki,” Byakuya murmured, feeling suddenly like it needed to be said. When Ichigo looked at him again, Byakuya’s throat tightened. He recognized the hesitation there, the fear of letting anyone too close because you’ll only get hurt again and he almost couldn’t continue.

“You’re familiar with the concept of a safe word?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Well then choose a word then, one that is both easy to remember as well as unlikely to be called on during… certain activities and I promise you, Kurosaki, that I will honor it.”

Ichigo hesitated. “Red,” he said finally, averting his eyes. “Is that alright?”

“That is fine. Now that you have chosen, would you care to divulge what it is that you wish to get out of this relationship?”

“I thought you were the smart one here,” Ichigo said defensively, shifting a little and still not meeting Byakuya’s eyes.

Byakuya raised an eyebrow. “Really now, Kurosaki, at least give me something to work with.”

Ichigo looked up then, face a little flushed but grinning evilly. “I get to see you naked.”

Ever the teenager, Byakuya thought. “Oh Kurosaki,” he said, wanting to make the red head squirm, “I can promise you that.”

The younger shinigami lost his grin at that, flushing even darker. “Shut up.”

Pleased with Ichigo’s reaction, Byakuya pressed a little more. “Well then, if that’s all, then why don’t you tell me how much experience you’ve had previously?”

“None of your business, you bastard,” Ichigo hissed with bared teeth.

“Am I to take that as ‘none’?” When all Ichigo did was glare at him, Byakuya asked, “Where should we start then?”

Ichigo almost protested when Byakuya grabbed his face, but the words got lost in his throat when the elder shinigami started to lean in for a kiss.

“You have no idea how you look right now, do you?” murmured Byakuya, a hint of desire evident in his voice.

Ichigo shivered, tensing as he felt Byakuya’s breath ghost over his face. Nobody had ever touched him like this, gently like… like a lover, Ichigo thought. He could feel though, the surety in the touch, knowing the caress could go from soft to deadly before he could even blink. But looking up into Byakuya’s eyes, Ichigo didn’t think that was very likely. He thought he could see fire in that normally icy gaze, so intense it made him warm all over. Me, Ichigo thought, he’s like this for me. I’ve done this to him.

Byakuya watched Ichigo’s eyes flutter shut when their lips touched, keeping his own open to take in the boy’s reaction. Ichigo wasn’t leaning forward into the kiss, to the captain’s disappointment, but he wasn’t pulling away either, though Byakuya could sense his nervousness.

Breaking the kiss, the dark haired shinigami kept his hold on Ichigo, not willing to give him a chance to gather his thoughts again. “I want to look at you, Kurosaki.”

He could feel Ichigo relax slightly with the distance put between them, but the sullen mask the boy typically wore was back on, though not as firmly as perhaps he would like.

“M-maybe the dining room is a bad place for this,” Ichigo said in protest, though the tone of his voice wasn’t very convincing.

“Perhaps my personal quarters would be more comfortable?”

Ichigo’s eyes widened slightly, but he nodded dumbly and followed Byakuya down the hallway and to what looked like a sitting room. Ichigo could see another door across the room and wondered if Byakuya’s bedroom lay beyond it.

He stood nervously, back turned, pretending to examine an ancient looking vase. He startled when Byakuya touched his shoulder.

“Perhaps you would like some tea, Kurosaki?”

“Ichigo.”

Byakuya raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Ichigo blushed. “You can call me Ichigo, when we’re like this.”

He thought about telling Ichigo that it was alright, finally, to address him familiarly as well, but he supposed that Ichigo would call him whatever he wanted, regardless. “Would you like some tea, Ichigo?”

The red head shivered at that; it sounded much more intimate than it had any right to, coming from Byakuya. “No, I’m fine.”

Ichigo resumed looking around the room, surreptitiously watching Byakuya sit at a low table a few paces away.

After a few moments, Byakuya said, “You seem to have forgotten my earlier request.”

Ichigo turned to look at him, blinking. “What?”

“I said I wanted to look at you.”

“I’m right here. You can see me just fine,” Ichigo said, almost angrily, but the blush spreading across his cheeks told Byakuya that the substitute shinigami knew exactly what he was talking about.

“I don’t think you understand what I mean. Come here, Ichigo.”

“So I take it, then, that I’m not going to be the one in charge here.”

“That’s the idea,” Byakuya replied, face blank.

“I said I would try it,” Ichigo said almost too quietly for Byakuya to hear, but he walked over to stand in front of Byakuya anyway, looking unsure of himself.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” the captain said, motioning for Ichigo to sit next to him. Ichigo obeyed for once, and Byakuya reached out a hand to stroke through his unruly red hair. “You have to tell me, Ichigo, what you are comfortable letting me to do you. Perhaps you would like a slow word as well, if you want things to slow down, but not cease?”

“Yellow,” Ichigo replied, thinking about stop lights, though he figured Byakuya might not understand the imagery.

“Yellow,” Byakuya repeated. He touched the collar of Ichigo’s haori, trying to gauge the red head’s reaction. “Would you remove this?”

Ichigo obliged, revealing soft skin that Byakuya couldn’t resist touching.

“Wait,” Ichigo gasped. “I want you—I want you to take your hair down. Will you… do that?”

Byakuya nodded, reaching up and removing his kenseikan, setting it gently on the table next to them.

“What is that, anyway?” Ichigo asked, sounding curious.

“My kenseikan? It is a symbol of my rank as head of the Kuchiki family.”

“Oh,” Ichigo said, reaching up to run a hand through Byakuya’s hair, seeming at a loss for words.

Byakuya leaned forward, letting his dark hair spill over Ichigo’s chest, watching goose bumps rise on the boy’s flesh. Running his hands over developing muscle, the captain noticed Ichigo’s flush spread across his chest as well. He could feel the tension underneath the boy’s skin and found it better than he had anticipated.

“Lovely,” Byakuya murmured, not fully aware that he was thinking aloud.

Ichigo shivered beneath the soft touches, unused to, but pleased by the compliment. No one had ever said anything like that to him before, and the young shinigami was struck suddenly by how surreal it was for Byakuya to be the first.

“Does this make you uncomfortable?”

It took Ichigo a moment to realize that Byakuya was asking him a question. He met Byakuya’s eyes and shook his head hard, speechless. His skin felt too tight and his heart was pounding, but it was far from uncomfortable. It was the first fully honest answer he’d given all night and he found himself rewarded by Byakuya leaning in for another kiss. This one seemed to come easier than the first few; Ichigo let himself relax, letting his mouth slip open enough for Byakuya to entwine his tongue with Ichigo’s own. The red head replied to the kiss, albeit hesitantly, paying attention to the sensation of Byakuya’s tongue exploring his mouth and moaning a little when the man pulled back slightly to suck hard on his lower lip.

When Byakuya pulled away, Ichigo couldn’t stop staring at the captain’s mouth, slightly swollen from kissing and wondered if he looked the same.

“I hope that I have settled some of you fears about this,” Byakuya said, all business once more.

The statement took Ichigo by surprise and shook him out of the haze Byakuya had held him in for the past several minutes. “Who said I was afraid,” Ichigo snapped defensively.

“Sorry,” Byakuya said without sounding like he meant it at all. “Perhaps ‘fears’ was not the correct word. I meant more along the lines of ‘misgivings’.”

“Fine,” Ichigo said, turning away from Byakuya and pulling his haori back on.

Byakuya narrowed his eyes. “May I ask what you’re doing, Kurosaki?”

He could see Ichigo’s shoulders stiffen at the question, but the red head didn’t stop dressing. “It’s late,” he said in explanation.

“I see.”

Ichigo turned back to Byakuya, clothes back in place. “I’ll come by tomorrow, if that’s alright. I want to see you again; I just need some time to think.”

“Very well. Until tomorrow.”

~~

Sorry for the long wait, but here's a nice long chapter for you to enjoy. Please let me know what you think!

Once again, my thanks go out to Jonokai who really, really helped me out with Ichigo and pretty much all of his lines. *hugs*

Also, thanks to SpaceToy, who pointed out a few errors I had made in changing tenses. :< I can't believe I did that, but they should be fixed now.