Romance and Rivalries

Chapter Four
by Rachael

“Okay,” Soi Fon repeated for the thirtieth time today, “Okay, you can do this…” On a normally occasion she’d say with confidence that people who talked to themselves in the mirror were either incredibly insecure or incredibly lonely; therefore a complete waste of her time. “You can do this,” she told herself again, resting her slim hands upon the sink.

Her gaze turned from her own reflection to the reflection of the dress that hung from a bronze hook on the back of the tan wood door. It was a beautiful dress: silver silken material, backless, shimmery when the light touched it… enclosed were a pair of silver elbow length gloves, and healed silver sandals which were placed in the far corner of her tidy bedroom.

“Pull yourself together,” she said to her reflection rather firmly, “You’re twenty-four-years-old. You’re an adult,” the slender bodyguard rubbed her temples irritably, “You march right up to her and return the dress… you’re staff! You remind her you’re just staff… and it’s inappropriate for her to keep doing this…”

Unclenching her eyes, Soi Fon let out a groan; she rubbed the bridge of her nose, letting out a deep breath before opening her eyes. “Okay,” she repeated, “I can do this.”

Glancing briefly at her own reflection, the tight fitting black trousers, high necked polo shirt and baggy black sweater… it was a variation on the formal uniform she wore when she had to protect Yoruichi-sama outside the manor. She neatened up her short black hair, straightening her shirt and the angle of her collar before turning away from the mirror completely.

She lifted the dress off the hook, laying it delicately over her arm. Closing the bathroom door behind her, she bent down to pick up the shoes, balancing them in one arm; Soi Fon left her bedroom, hearing the automatic lock shut it up behind her as she made her way down the hallway to the largest bedroom at the end.

‘Twenty-four’, she reminded herself, ‘you’re hardly a blushing thirteen-year-old anymore; you can be more assertive towards her if you just try!’ The only problem was that Yoruichi-sama was a terrifying person to try and assert authority over…

A year ago she had gone to the beach with Kisuke Urahara, (a man who in Soi Fon’s opinion belonged in the deepest, darkest and most painful regions of Hell), Tessai, his partner, their three irritating children, and a few other friends of Yoruichi-sama who Soi Fon didn’t really approve of. They had all stayed in the Shihoin summer manor with its own private beach. Despite insisting she was just there as staff, Yoruichi-sama bought her to the swimsuit shop… and chose the most hideously childish swimming costume for her. She’d tried to tell Yoruichi-sama this… but she hadn’t paid the slightest bit of attention.

Today wouldn’t be like that!

Reaching the door-handle, Soi Fon pushed it open and stepped inside, “Yoruichi-sama, I need to speak with you!”

Yoruichi Shihoin, who from a rather young age had been more of a goddess than a human to Soi Fon, was lounging back on the sofa in her bedroom, reading through a document. She was the most beautiful person she had ever seen, long dark limbs shown off in the short silken purple nightdress she wore. Her long violet hair pulled back into an elegant knot at the back of her head. Each feature seemed to be in the perfect place… She truly was perfection in human form…

Soi Fon felt that familiar floating feeling in her stomach the instant those deep amber eyes met hers.

“It’s unlike you not to knock, Soi Fon,” Yoruichi sighed, turning to look back at her, resting her palm against her face.

Instantly her nerve dissolved into the floor… Soi Fon felt her cheeks colour up a bright and disdainful red, “O-Oh,” she turned to look at the door, “Yes, m’am,” rushing to it, she stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Damn it… with a sentence… consisting of no more than seven words… she’d destroyed any chance of her being assertive… Soi Fon held her head miserably… nothing had really changed between now and the time she had been a blushing thirteen-year-old knelt at Yoruichi-sama’s feet.

Raising a hand, Soi Fon knocked upon the door nervously. Or she was about too when Yoruichi opened the door wide. The colour flushed back into her face as she saw the older woman was laughing at her.

“Soi Fon, you actually left? Hahaha, you can’t tell when I’m kidding, can you, after all these years? Look how red you are!”

Did she say thirteen? She meant to say three…

**

Someone was lying on top of him. That was the first thing he became aware of… Ikkaku Madarame groaned; wriggling his body upwards a little, there was something wet on his ear. There was the slightest moment when he thought he was lying in Yumi’s bed, having his boyfriend lazily lick his ear in a pretty good attempt to get him up for early morning lovemaking…

He was about to be severely disappointed and perhaps horrified.

Upon opening his eyes, he discovered that he was gazing up at his Sensei’s young daughter who was sat on his chest, dripping cold water onto his face from a stupid pink flask.

“W-W-What the hell are you doing?!” he yelled angrily at her, jerking upright in a motion to throw her off of him. Yachiru instead laid her hand upon his shoulder, flipping herself up and over the headrest, landing gracefully on the carpet behind his bed.

“Good morning, baldy,” she beamed at him affectionately, “Kenny said to give you some space but you’re fun when you’re hung-over!”

“I am not hung-over,” Ikkaku grunted at her, holding his head as he forced himself into a seated position, “What did I tell you about barging into my room?”

“You’re hardly ever here, so it shouldn’t matter,” the little girl stuck her tongue out at him, her hands on her hips glowering at him.

Ikkaku hissed at the high-pitched tone of her voice, “Hey – whether I’m here or not, you don’t bother me in my room!” he rubbed the bridge of his nose before getting to his feet, “Shouldn’t you be with Sensei?”

She let out a little ‘pfft’ noise, clearly unimpressed, “Kenny is being boring! I wanna play with Baldy today!”

Now this was looking bad. Normally Ikkaku quite liked kids (Well, it would be more truthful to say he didn’t mind kids), but Kenpachi’s little girl, Yachiru, was unlike any child he’d ever known: boundless energy, strength, speed, martial arts training, uncontrolled mischief, maximum ferocity… not to mention the fact that she was the apple of her daddy’s eye.

Ikkaku rubbed his head, “I’m going to see Yumichika today, he’s very busy, Yachiru, so it’s best I go alone, okay,” he hated the stinging pain in his head. He could understand completely why Sensei didn’t really drink… this kid and a hangover could very well compete for a devastating torture method. Ikkaku through one mean or another was a bit of an addict for his drink. So on days he had a hang-over, his overall tendency was just to avoid Yachiru… and considering it was a weekend, beg Yumi to let him sleep the day at his, where there was guarantied to be no bad disturbances.

“You’re gonna see Feathers? I wanna come – Baldly, take me to see Feathers!”

“No,” he stomped past her, he needed to get to a bathroom ASAP as it was… groaning, the bald man rushed as fast as he could towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. “Go back to your house, Sensei told you not to hang out around here!”

“No fair – I like it here – you can’t boss me around!”

With that he locked the bathroom door and collapsed to his knees, resting his head against the toilet seat. It was the lowest and most disgusting position he could think of. Normally he had a strong stomach, and didn’t puke up after a night of heavy drinking… this morning however left him feeling at his lowest. He could still feel that horrible uneasiness in his belly, and wrapped both arms around his gut in a vain attempt to calm down.

Not the most productive way to begin the morning he had to say.

Ikkaku closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember what he could of last night… He’d parted ways with Iba at about four… the older man wanted to get ready for work (and, though he wouldn’t admit it, ring his ma). He knew he’d spoken to Yumichika on the phone before he met Renji, because Yumi had mentioned seeing the redhead earlier, because when he clapped eyes on his best friend, Renji looked completely down in the dumps.

Most people probably thought he didn’t, but he really did feel that vile guilt in his stomach every time he saw Renji. He wanted to ask about it, he really did, but the smart voice in the back of his head kept putting it off: Yumichika was a taboo subject between him and Renji. That much was certain in the least.

Every now and then he’d find himself thinking back to the days Renji and Yumichika were dating… Even the memories of it made him feel as miserable and irritated as he had back then. At first Renji had been so smitten, completely head over heels for this gorgeous and charming older guy. It was all he ever talked about when they were drinking together… In the beginning, Ikkaku thought he disliked the whole damn thing because he felt he was loosing his best friend. He remembered cornering Yumichika on top of the school roof and yelling at him; he didn’t want Renji being messed around by some narcissist pretty boy asshole… It was immature of him, getting mad because it was the only way he knew to deal with the fact that he had a dumb crush on Renji’s boyfriend; who could, in the end, be so very charming it was almost impossible to hate him for no good reason.

There was no misery like watching the two of them together. He always seemed to be watching their backs, their arms around each other… That dumb goofy look on Renji’s face…

And then, one day Yumichika was looking back at him…

Ikkaku opened his eyes, lazily groping around the counter-top for a glass, or a mug… or any sort of container someone might have left. Letting out a little cry of enthusiasm as his hand fell upon a glass… wincing as he realized it had a rather old looking toothbrush inside… now that was nasty!

In the end he settled for a bucket, filling it with water he began to drink desperately needing to cleanse his throat of that gross hung-over feeling. That was much better… He was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, which meant his Sensei probably tossed him on his bed and left him there. Now, despite how Yumichika would complain about him arriving wearing clothes he’d worn three days in a row… climbing out of the window and down the drainpipe would be the best way to avoid Yachiru!

Weighing up the options, Ikkaku opened the bathroom window, lifting himself up onto the ledge; he swung himself forwards, managing to wrap his legs around the drainpipe. In less than twenty minutes he’d be snuggled up on silken sheets in the company of someone very pretty, Ikkaku reassured himself as he slid down the drainpipe and landed carefully on his feet.

“So long,” he called to the house, as he broke off into a run, just to be sure that Yachiru wasn’t following him… Just to be sure…

***

Jushiro Ukitake gazed miserably at his own reflection in the mirror. It was a rare thing indeed that he let anything get him down. But today was definitely one of those days…

The white-haired man was stood facing the full-length mirror; he brushed his hair out of his eyes. He’d bought this suit in Paris with Shunsui three years ago before his illness got really bad… It looked so big on him, all it did was emphasise how shrunken his body had become. Leaning closer he rubbed the bags under his eyes, the fact that his skin seemed to have shrunk, making his cheeks seem hollow, even when he smiled, and his eyes look dead…

In the other room he could see Shunsui getting ready. He looked completely charming… the violet material of his suit was rich and only showed off the richness of his hair. The suit only completed the picture of the sophisticated gentleman his lover was.

Fixing his tie was the lovely Nanao. She was his assistant, therefore a miracle worker. It was through this brilliant woman Shunsui hadn’t been fired, completed all of his reports, and had essays and homework marked, with his entire lesson plans sorted. Twenty-six-years-old, she was perfect for the position; not at all intimidated by Shunsui’s charm or experience, she tended to treat him as a difficult child rather than a highly respectable man.

“Hold still, I can hardly make you look presentable if you keep moving around, Sensei!”

“Nanao-chan, it’s hard for a man to stand still while in the presence of a beautiful woman,” Shunsui purred, leaning down a little to whisper the words into her ear.

Jushiro rolled his eyes and let out a sad little sigh, looking away as he saw his lover’s hand sneak down the material of Nanao’s tight blue dress, his firm hand resting upon her backside.

“Hey,” she slapped his hand off, “I swear I’ll file that complaint for sexual harassment!”

He pouted his bottom lip, “I’m only playing,” he folded his arms across his chest, “You’re so serious, Nanao-chan. No wonder you’re not married.”

“Hey, shut-up, you old leech!”

Jushiro had to laugh a little bit, rubbing his hands against his cheeks to try and raise, even the slightest trace of colour. He couldn’t hold it against Shunsui for wanting to touch or flirt with someone else… he’d always been like that.

And besides, he was always clipped around the ear for messing with Nanao-san… sort of like how one would deal with a lecherous child…

***

“You look radiant, as per usual, Yoruichi-san!”

Soi Fon’s eyes shot towards Kisuke Urahara as he entered the room. Her grip tightened on her gun holster, hidden inside her thick combat jacket.

“Ah, Kisuke,” Yoruichi rose from her chair in front of the dressing table, “I see you’ve made yourself presentable for me. Tessai-san’s handy-work no doubt?”

She wanted to snort in sheer distain. Kisuke Urahara was one of the untidiest and most revolting human beings she had ever born witness too. No matter what he did with his blonde hair, to Soi Fon, he always looked as though he’d just gotten out of bed (and people who didn’t look like they’d made an effort to be in Yoruichi-sama’s presence were instantly disliked). He had quite nice pale green eyes, which Soi Fon supposed others might find attractive. But his face was often drawn into a frightfully carefree smile and dotted with stubble (so he hadn’t even bothered to shave then… typical).

His lazy appearance reflected his irritatingly laid-back personality perfectly!

Yoruichi-sama would describe Kisuke Urahara as a ‘lazy genius’ (and even Soi Fon could not deny the fact that the man was brilliant), and ‘casually handsome’. The two of them were childhood friends so she was always making excuses for him; using clever positive words to hide the fact he was an incompetent lazy bum (Although Soi Fon had been called harsh in her time). As well as being childhood friends, and few people knew this, but Yoruichi and Kisuke had been lovers during their teenage experimental years. It was another reason to hate his guts.

She must have been about seven or eight years old, but she could remember entering Yoruichi-sama’s room to drop off her laundry and catching a glimpse of the two of them lying in bed together. He was still sleeping, on his front with his face pressed against her chest, nuzzling in against her soft violet hair…

She blinked as she realized her finger was resting upon the trigger of her gun.

“Kisuke, you remember Soi Fon, don’t you?” Yoruichi-sama’s voice brought her out of her little flashback.

“Oh yes,” he waved childishly at her.

Soi Fon shot him a vague false smile, folding her arms across her chest. This was awkward… she was a trained killing machine, not a social animal. Yoruichi-sama said it was cute, but she couldn’t even try hiding when she disliked someone (unless they were her employer).

“So are you and Tessai-san here?” Yoruichi asked, turning back to her mirror, bending over slightly to fasten her earrings, “I haven’t spoken with him in a while.”

Kisuke grinned, “Of course he’s here. I’m afraid I lost him in the lobby; he’s catching up with Hachi-san. It was fortunate for our cars to arrive at the same time.”

Yoruichi glanced at him briefly as she lazily fixed her appearance, “Oh yes. I bet you’ll be looking forward to seeing Hirako-san as well?”

“He’s not with the Vizards at the moment actually,” Kisuke laughed quietly, “He’s having car trouble, so naturally Hiyori-san is bad-mouthing him in the lobby already.”

She rolled her eyes, “She’s never changed, has she? Oh, I was meaning to ask, how are the children?”

In Soi Fon’s opinion, she felt incredible pity for any child raised by Kisuke Urahara (and if not for Tessai-san, she had to wonder if he had bribed the adoption agency). Although, taking his partner into account would probably loosen the binds of mental scarring the poor child would suffer.

What a man like Tessai-san saw in Kisuke Urahara, she did not know!

“They’re fine,” he nodded, adding a slightly affectionate sigh, “Renji is in trouble, he skipped school the other day to go to Rangiku-san’s bar!” The man chuckled mischievously, “and he thought I’d never find out too!”

“Oh to be young again,” Yoruichi laughed with him, “Kisuke, give me a hand,” she gestured to the golden chocker on her dressing table. “I can never do it right myself.”

On looking closer at it, Soi Fon recognized it almost instantly. It was a gift from a foreign prince: gold with embroidered rubies… it looked completely exquisite on her dark neck.

She felt herself aching with jealousy when she saw Kisuke Urahara lift it from the table and stand behind her mistress at the mirror, his fingers touching the soft skin of her neck ever so slightly…

“There,” Kisuke said with a triumphant sigh, “You look perfect!”

Soi Fon took a small step closer, feeling an urge to murder the idiot man before her… not only was he touching Yoruichi-sama… but his top button was undone, and he stank like his stupid store!

Oh, how she would smile if this man were to just combust!

Yoruichi glanced over at Soi Fon’s reflection in the mirror. She smirked to herself, “You should begin getting ready also, Soi Fon.”

“B-But Yoruichi-sama!” she protested, taking another step forwards, “I am staff – I thought you said that I would be there as staff tonight – we agreed this morning!”

“And as my staff,” the older woman interrupted firmly, “I expect you to be well dressed,” she turned to her wardrobe and produced the dress she had surprisingly easily accepted back this morning.

“That’s an order, Soi Fon,” she said firmly, just to make sure it had sunk in that she couldn’t avoid this. “Now run along and get dressed.”

Trying her best not to glare and snatch the dress, Soi Fon picked it up delicately, “Yes, m’am.”

Kisuke laughed a little as he caught sight of the dress in her arms, “Such a dress! Is she over eighteen, Yoruichi-san?” he joked; though he wasn’t entirely sure if she was or not…

Instantly she felt her temper prickle and cursed herself as soon as she noticed the instant heat in her face, “I’m twenty-four-years-old!” She snapped at him, brushing past him for good measure and leaving the room as fast as possible.

Stupid man!

***

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques groaned as he heard that persistent hammering on the door. He was juggling with a rather important telephone call, his pot noodle dinner recently snatched from the microwave, and the cat food.

His cat, Pantera, was stepping on and around his feet dangerously, an irritating habit she had when she was hungry.

“Yeah, urm, yes, Yammy, okay, whatever you want, we can discuss it with the client on Monday, okay?” He snapped irritably, “No, this isn’t a bad time…” he paused to take a mouthful of pot noodle… or at least what he thought was pot noodle…

“Oh FUCK – FUCK – FUCK ME!” he cursed angrily, tossing the phone onto the table, throwing the cat food and the pot noodle to the floor, the blue haired male lurched over the sink to spit out the disgusting tuna flavoured cat mix.

The knocking kept getting louder and louder… it was driving him completely insane! If it was Luppi again – he was going to tear his skinny little neck off and spit in the hole!

Grabbing the phone and snarling at Yammy (who apparently found what he’d just heard completely hilarious), Grimmjow stomped towards the front door; he noticed his cat was now munching away on the fallen bag of cat food, what had spilled all over the floor, and his ruined pot noodle…

What kind of world would rob a man from his dinner?

“What?” he demanded furiously as he opened his door, before his gaze fell upon his boyfriend. Instantly the blue haired lawyer’s expression softened and he swallowed nervously, “Hi…”

Ichigo looked completely unimpressed at being kept waiting outside for at least ten minutes, his brown eyes narrowed coldly.

“Yammy, I gotta go,” he said quickly, hanging up before his partner could make any sort of snide and stupid remark. Pocketing his phone and praying that his breath didn’t smell like cat food, he shot Ichigo a gruff look, “Can I help you?”

“Shift your ass,” Ichigo snapped at him, pushing past and tossing his rucksack into the living room, landing promptly on the sofa he often lived on. “Hey, do you have any drinks in?”

Grimmjow took a seat beside the rucksack, rubbing his temples irritably, “Erm… there’s some beer in the fridge?”

“I’m too young too drink, moron, remember?”

He sighed. This would require effort… The blue-haired man rubbed his forehead as he entered the kitchen. He had a bottle of water under the sink, or he could still have those orange juice cartons he and Yammy had won at the Company Quiz… The last place he’d seen those damn things… was under the cupboard.

“I think I have bottled water and stuff?” he bent down to the sink, opening the cupboard door… There it was! “Here,” he tossed the bottle to his boyfriend.

“Thanks,” he grunted at him, undoing the lid, “So, the water main is still broken?” he gestured to the sink.

Grimmjow grumbled to himself, “Well, I have water running again… I just wouldn’t want to drink it,” he wrinkled his nose teasingly, his grin widening as Ichigo laughed quietly.

“I guess I’ll have to make it last me,” he said, shaking the bottle a little.

“Or you could give into forbidden fruit?” he teased, uncorking his beer after he’d taken it from the fridge.

Ichigo rolled his eyes, “How about no? You just wanna get me drunk.”

“You caught me.”

He was teased and patted on the back by his friends for the fact he was dating a high-schooler. Grimmjow was not the sort of man who let the opinions or disapproval of others affect his decisions, but seriously, anyone who had issues with him dating a young male, should just look at Ichigo.

The boy had originally just been some damn punk who always got in his way (this was way back when Grimmjow was in the street gangs and not a semi-professional lawyer). The two of them had been perfectly matched in beating the living shit out of each other.

But as time drew them together, he’d looked at Ichigo; really looked at him… he was fucking hot, something nobody could deny!

Even now, it was hard to keep his hands off him. What wasn’t there to like? He was gorgeous, and he was completely unaware of it… that made him almost painfully cute to tease.

“Hey, stop staring at me,” Ichigo snapped at him suddenly, his cheeks had turned that precious shade of pink. He looked so irresistible like this!

“Sorry,” Grimmjow smirked, draining some more of his beer and opening an arm for Ichigo.

Recently the orange haired boy had been much more affectionate towards him. Ichigo had problems with affection; in all the time he’d known him, as a brat, or seeing him with his friends, it was obvious to anyone who watched him enough, that Ichigo didn’t do hugs, he didn’t do arm around the shoulders, he didn’t do playful spanking…

It was sweet and very reassuring that little by little Ichigo was warming up to him.

“So, you’re staying the night?” he asked, as Ichigo wrapped an arm around his waist, resting his head on Grimmjow’s shoulder.

“Yeah, if that’s cool?” he muttered, “My dad is going to some fancy party. Karin and Yuzu are at a friend’s house for a sleepover… so I didn’t want to spend the whole night on my own.”

Grimmjow chuckled, letting the charming sound tease Ichigo’s earlobe, “Can’t you just admit that you missed me?”

Ah, there it was… that adorable blush again. Oh no, he’d embarrassed him!

Ichigo yanked away from him, crossing his arms across his chest, “Oh yeah, like that’d ever happen, you idiot!”

Now although when he liked someone… no, that was a complete lie; with his dating record (something he considered to be rather disgraceful) it was pretty damn clear that he’d never been serious about anyone.

Ichigo was different. He wanted him like he’d never wanted anyone else… Nobody had ever made him feel this way before.

Anyway, it was because of his embarrassing and somewhat girly feelings for Ichigo, which made him patient when it came to the more… intimate sections of their relationship.

On any record for him, it would have been almost crazy for him to date a guy for more than a month without fucking his brains out. Now that was something that had never happened to him before.

Obviously, he was a man with a powerfully demanding sex drive (probably because his last lover of sorts had been Luppi, who was a creepy little deviant), and there were times were, as bad as he’d feel later, he’d push for a little more intimacy. Nothing drastic of course, it wasn’t like he got Ichigo to bend over a table while he shoved strange vibrating pieces of plastic into his backside. But it was hardly criminal to ask for a proper kiss, or a cheeky grope. Right?

“So, Ichii, you want to stay at mine without paying board? Eat my good which I paid for with the pittance Aizen pays me?” Grimmjow teased him, raising a hand to capture Ichigo’s chin between his forefinger and thumb.

His cheeks were now bright red, but he didn’t push him away… his chest was rising and falling rapidly, “S-So, err… what would make up for my inconveniencing you?” he said sarcastically, but there was definitely a precious virginal tone in his words, which made this whole situation a million times more worthwhile!

“How about a kiss?” he leant in, purring the words into his ear, Grimmjow was beaming at him as he watched the hesitant stubbornness clash with the curious longing in Ichigo’s eyes.

The younger male leant up on tiptoe, letting out an irritated growl, “Fine… but just one kiss for now, okay?”

‘For now’, eh? So there was a hint of the promise of more later?

“Ah, thanks,” Grimmjow whispered. He drew his face in closer, raising a hand to Ichigo’s chest, resting upon the space between his jaw and earlobe, his other arm slipped around his waist. Ichigo let out a little gasp of breath before their lips pressed together.

The kiss was sweet at first, tender and patient. He let Ichigo control it for now, but his firm grip to his spiky hair and slim hip left an underlying tone of the control Grimmjow had. After a few seconds, Ichigo tilted his head to the side, to give the blue haired man leverage to deepen their kiss. Grimmjow smirked a little as he used his tongue to gently probe apart his lips, feeling that familiar and so far, unfulfilled rush of blood to his groin as Ichigo emitted a quiet moan, his grip on Grimmjow’s collar tightened. The blue haired man lowered his hand and squeezed that firm little bubble butt roughly; a little too roughly it would seem, as Ichigo released his shirt and gently pushed him back, panting ever so softly.

“So has that ‘earned my keep’?” he teased, though the look on his face stated that should Grimmjow say ‘no’, he’d be more than liable for a thrashing.

Well, it was funny to antagonize him.

“Nope.”

***

Byakuya glanced awkwardly at his reflection. He looked every second the part of the Head of the Kuchiki Family, even if he did look a little tired and longing to leave…

“Hey, I didn’t expect to see Byakuya-kun at my party, it’s not even my birthday!”

His reflection, pale with the slightest hint of purple bags under his intense grey eyes, but until Yoruichi Shihoin’s reflection appeared beside his, he hadn’t really considered that he looked unhealthy.

“Well, you did invite me,” he turned away from the mirror to face her. From a young age he’d known to fear that evil cat like grin of hers… that woman was a menace of the highest degree, sex symbol or not.

She reached up, opening her slender dark arms for him and drew him into a stiff embrace, “I’m glad you came.”

Despite how he would claim to dislike her, Yoruichi Shihoin was one of his dearest friends in her own right. Probably to do with the fact that she had been too old to be put off by his impossible temper and irreproachableness, in fact she’d enjoyed teasing him into an awkward friendship. It was the only word for their bond really because if he had to think about it, at all the times in his life he’d needed someone, it was normally the charming older woman sat at his side.

It had been Yoruichi who sat beside him in the hospital when his sister passed away. It was Yoruichi who held his arm at his wife’s funeral, at the point in his life where he felt so weak he would fall to the ground if it wasn’t for her holding him upright. Consequently, and he could remember little of the event, but when he was twelve or thirteen he was kidnapped, and it was Yoruichi who had helped rescue him.

The ebony haired male released her, “I do apologize for my lack of appearance,” he sighed straightening up his suit a little; “I have been incredibly busy with my work.”

She laughed aloud, “You can’t keep a good man down, eh?” tilting her head to one side she offered him an arm, “Let’s join the party, I can think of a few ladies who’d delight in meeting the great Byakuya Kuchiki!”

“Oh God, I do hope you’re joking,” he groaned, giving in as he hooked his arm in hers, letting the older woman lead him out into the lit hallway of the party.

There were a lot of familiar faces he could spot already as they entered the hall. The entire room was lit up with bright lights from candles giving it all the appearance of a fantasy ball. The buffet table was enormous; he could see and smell a few fine delicacies. Yoruichi was only ever so proper around this sort of company, he knew full well that she would just as happy with cheap take out food or pot noodle so long as there was a lot of it). She managed to tackle her role as the Head of her family and a proper young woman, as well as her out-going social personality; something Byakuya envied in her quite a lot.

Out of all the people he could see he spotted Rukia’s friend Ichigo’s father, Isshin Kurosaki and his partner in business, Ryuken Ishida. The two of them were stood by the food, Ishida looking rather embarrassed by the fact that his partner was stuffing his face quite happily and showing strangers photographs of his children. Byakuya had once been caught by Isshin-san, who had shown him a series of photos of his children attempting to avoid the camera in a variety of locations… To be honest it was a little bit disturbing for Byakuya.

Among the crowds were a group of frivolous minded young woman already gaping at him. He recognized two of them from a few others of these parties he’d attended: Isane Kotesu and her younger sister Kiyone. He was sure Kiyone was the blonde younger sister based on the fact she was, like now, always fighting with her fiancé, whose name totally escaped him. The older Isane he remembered because she worked with Unohana-san at the hospital.

He also recognized Nanao Ise, the personal assistant of Kyoraku-san. Right now she appeared to be acting as some sort of human shield between the group of girls and her boss… Kyoraku-san was waving stupidly at them and trying to peer around her current assistant, and his old one, Lisa Yadomaru who had the same expression as Nanao-san, her arms folded across her chest. Any woman who had to work with a bumbling womaniser like Kyoraku-san had to have the patience of a Saint…

Byakuya’s eyes followed Kyoraku back to Ukitake-san, who had his back to Byakuya, chattering away to Unohana-san and a few people he couldn’t quite recognize from the distance. He hoped to catch up with Ukitake-san later…

A few feet away was Shinji Hirako, he barely recognized him with that short bob. It suited him… he wondered briefly how long it had been short… he really was out of touch. On preference, Byakuya didn’t really associate with men like Hirako-san, who was loud and common in his speech. There were rumours, and as a Kuchiki and a man of his standing, Byakuya cared little for rumours, but he had heard that a few years ago Shinji Hirako and Sosuke Aizen, the lawyer, had been lovers.

Chatting earnestly to Shinji was Kisuke Urahara and his partner, Tessai Tsukabishi. He had nothing against Urahara, he was good natured and pleasant to be in the company of, if a little eccentric. Byakuya glanced away when he saw the tenderness in their touch as Urahara raised a hand to rub gently on his husband’s back.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Byakuya smiled politely as a few men came forwards to greet him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Kyoraku-san leading a coughing Ukitake-san out for some air. He looked a little worried and decided to leave the two alone instead of pursuing them, loosing himself in some of the usual pointless small talk. His attention drawn to a conversation occurring behind him…

“Hiyori cut it out! I think you’ve had enough of that damn punch!”

“Oh get bent, dick-head! It’s not like I’m not old enough!”

“Ain’t you ever heard that an adult knows when t’ stop?”

“Ain’t you never heard that it’s not a man’s place to order a lady around, Shinji?”

“Huh! A lady – my ass!”

“Oh well, your ass is the hot spot of the fucking city, isn’t it, shit for brains?”

“Waah – Kensei! Shin-Shin and Hiyo-rin are fighting again!”

“What the hell do you want me to do about it?”

Stood behind him were the producers of one of the most popular publication companies in the industry. They had many magazines and even endorsed some several popular novels as well as manga series. The name of that company was Vizard. From what he knew about the Vizards was that they had no senior authority, the company was run between the eight of them, and there was no main CEO or a Boss.

Shinji Hirako was in charge of the main magazine, it was mostly general interest based; though he was the leading force in several of their factions, but mostly when partnered with a few of his colleagues.

Hiyori Sarugaki, the young blonde girl who had apparently drunk too much punch, was the photographer, she also wrote articles for every one of the magazines. She was widely considered to be a bit of a jack-of-all-trades in the publishing industry; he first remembered seeing her when she was in her early teens, when she worked part time at Urahara’s store.

Lisa Yadomaru (and people supposed it was Kyoraku’s influence) was in charge of a magazine which was designed for men. Byakuya wasn’t the sort to take an interest in such things, but the main focus seemed to be swimsuit models.

Love Aikawa; whom Byakuya spotted in a large circle of others, laughing and chatting loudly, was in control of the manga Vizard produced, as well as selecting and supporting those they sponsored. His assistants and those they endorsed were all plucky young manga artists, some of which were with them tonight.

Kensei Muguruma was the muscle of the group. He held a reputation for acting as a bodyguard to the Vizards, he also a ran a magazine which specialised in sports, with true life experiences and the very latest new and pictures of extreme sport. When it came to martial arts, he was almost as well equipped as Yoruichi’s Soi Fon.

Rojuro Otoribashi, or Rose (as he was known to everyone), and Mashiro Kuna ran, possibly the most popular of the Vizard media: a fashion magazine which the two of them often represented in public. It seemed hard to believe the two of them were in their late thirties, Mashiro being one of the oldest in the group at thirty-nine. He had heard, not that he paid a lot of interest to this sort of thing, that the Vizard Fashion Magazine had recently employed the most beautiful male model.

“Oh yeah, Shinji, yer oh so damn quick t’ bitch at me! An’ yer haven’t said fuck all t’ Kensei, bringin’ his toy boy!”

Byakuya headed over to the buffet, keeping in the company of a few others, so he could get away with uttering ‘yes’ and ‘no’ when appropriate, while he was watching the party before him.

Muguruma’s toy boy or so Sarugaki-san had implied, looked only a few years older than Rukia. He was dark haired and very attractive, his left cheek branded with a tattoo of the number 69. The boy flushed in embarrassment when he heard the woman’s words.

“Oh yer just jealous c’os ya still look about 12!”

“I DO NOT! I have breasts see, ya dick-head, Shinji!”

Byakuya had to wonder how these hooligans made it as such a success in the business world. A mystery he had to guess…

***

“Hiyori-san is as lively as ever,” Kisuke laughed casually as he sipped his wine, “I’m glad to see adulthood hasn’t softened her tongue.”

Lisa shot him a look, “Then you’re the only person in the world who is, Kisuke-san.”

Yoruichi laughed, leaning her arm on Kisuke’s shoulder, she was slightly shorter than him, unless she was in heels. “How old is Hiyori-chan? I know she was thirteen when she worked for you, but I have no idea how long ago that was?”

The blond frowned, rubbing his head as though in deep thought, “You know… I’m not sure either… I could swear she’s older than your Soi Fon… but I can’t remember how far back her twenty-first birthday was…”

The green-eyed man shrugged her shoulder and pushed up her glasses, “If she was twenty-five, I’m sure we’d have all heard about it by now…”

“Unless Hiyori-san has become the sort of woman who hides her age…”

The three of them looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders, “Oh well.”

Kisuke glanced up as Tessai returned from a quieter corner of the room, pocketing his mobile phone. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

The larger man laughed heartily, “Ururu-chan just wanted to inform me that Jinta-kun has run off to play with his friends.”

His eyes narrowed, “And Renji just let him go?”

“Oh, well it would appear that Renji-kun fell asleep while polishing the shop floor,” he rested a hand on his partner’s shoulder, “your punishments never fail to work even the most energetic to the bone.”

The blonde male grinned brightly, flashing his teeth, “It’ll knock any truanting straight out of his funny little head… Isn’t that what I said?”

“It is.”

They had once been asked by a joking Shinji, which one of them was the mother in their family. If you based it upon his slighter appearance and delicate facial features (no matter how he masked them with stubble), Kisuke Urahara was in no way the nurturing motherly type. He was the sort of father who set his children impossible and bordering on child cruelty chores, he was the sort of father who’d say ‘well, get over it’, or ‘whatever will be, will be’.

Tessai was the one who bandaged their bruises and chatted about school… hell he even made them packed lunches. Despite his gruff appearance, there was nobody more motherly than Tessai.

“So, Yoruichi-san,” he beamed at her, “You look radiant tonight, are those real rubies?” He pushed his glasses up his nose, looking eagerly at the slender woman.

She winked at him, “Oh you always know just how to embarrass me!”

***

Soi Fon smiled politely as she handed the white haired man his drink, “lime water?” she said, just to make sure she’d gotten to correct thing.

Jushiro Ukitake smiled back, some warmth flashing back into his cheeks, “Thank you, Soi Fon. You are too kind.”

Out of all Yoruichi-sama’s guests, Ukitake was her favourite. He was good-natured, polite, and focused. He was also incredibly kind, and not in a false sense. For some reason even she herself could not quite explain, she really genuinely liked him. Even in his illness he never lost an ounce of decency, he was brave and admirable.

“I’m staff, and it was no bother,” she straightened up, turning her gaze to the French windows, it was dark outside… it hadn’t been late the last time she looked at the clock… Time must be flying. “So, I hear you’ve been working on your garden again?” She asked, turning her eyes back to Ukitake, trying not to notice, as she was prone to do, the bags under his eyes, his slouch, the malnourishment in his whole frame, because once she thought he looked unwell, the fact he was dying would be unavoidable.

He brushed back his hair, looking excited at the mention of his garden, “Oh yes! It’s been a lot of fun; I’ve got it looking absolutely beautiful again. I was in fact thinking of inviting Yoruichi and yourself to come and see.”

“We would enjoy that, Yoruichi-sama especially. She has missed seeing you.”

He had noticed that quite often Soi Fon would say ‘she’ in reference to Yoruichi, but mean herself. It was a rather cute habit actually, but he was too nice to point it out to her.

“I don’t mean to sound at all perverse, but you look very beautiful tonight.”

Her cheeks went pink, “O-Oh, err… Thank you very much…” People were normally too intimidated by her to ever compliment her appearance. She was critically acclaimed for her combat skills from the age of seven. Only drunk old men or compete and utter morons who couldn’t sense her danger, ever tried to come onto her. Yoruichi-sama complimented her and teased her out of her defensive armour, and a rare man like Jushiro Ukitake always made her blush like a schoolgirl.

He was dying and meant every word he said.

“Why, is that the lovely Soi Fon?”

Her blush vanished and her dark eyes narrowed as she felt Shunsui Kyoraku’s hand on her naked back. “Take it off or I’ll break it off.”

Normally she’d just dislocated his wrist and have done with it; but she liked Ukitake and he loved Kyoraku (God only knew why), so petty threats would have to do.

He laughed merrily at her, his hands raised mockingly as he moved to stand beside Ukitake, “I see you’ve been keeping Jushiro company for me.”

Soi Fon grunted, “He’s fine company, I have no idea what he sees in you.”

“Hey, Soi Fon!”

Marechiyo Ômaeda was heading her way… he was one of her least favourite people in the world, a potential second to Kisuke Urahara. Words that described were: oaf, fatso, lumax, vile, piglike, disgusting, waste of life… She had no idea how he’d gotten away from stuffing his fat mouth at the buffet, though she was glad he wasn’t out there putting all the other guests off their food…

“Do excuse me, Ukitake-san.”

Instantly she bolted for the hallway leading back to the party. On a normal day she’d have been able to simple walk away from him while he panted after her like a dumb dog.

“Hello – Soi Fon – hello!”

“What is it?” she demanded, turning to give him a look that made kung-fu masters shiver in fear. Unfortunately, Omaeda came under the complete and utter moron category… and he looked like he’d had a few too many cups of punch.

“You look mighty pretty tonight,” he said, once he’d caught his breath.

“I’m well aware,” she sneered, resting a hand on her hip, “Was there something you wanted?”

“Ran outta peanuts,” he slurred, his hand embedded in a large crystal bowl of fish eggs… his dirty wet hand on Yoruichi-sama’s bowl made her want to slaughter him…

It made her feel absolutely sick to watch him stuff his face. To Yoruichi-sama, or anyone she respected, she would always insist she was staff, but to pigs like him, she was always, even when she was about thirteen, a highly esteemed guest.

“Don’t you think you’re a little busy stuffing your face full of fish eggs?” she shot at him sharply, “You mistake me for someone who gives a shit if you already scoffed down half the peanuts.”

He looked dazed and confused by her response, shaking his head as though he hadn’t heard her right, “But you’re staff?”

And faking her noble streak for all she was worth, “Excuse me! I am an esteemed guest! How dare you confuse me with staff, you miserable man!”

He stood there, scratching his head like an ape, “Erm… err, but… sorry?”

“Good day,” she snapped and turned around, taking off her heels and stomping briskly towards the exit and the ballroom, “Animal,” she taunted as she closed the door behind her.

Oh the things you can get away with when Yoruichi-sama isn’t around…

***

“Excuse me, sir, you aren’t on the guest list!”

Kenpachi Zaraki laughed aloud, brushing past the spidery little man who had stood terrified in front of him, his hands shaking as he held out the guest list.

“Sir, Sir!” He called after him, though there was a considerable amount of relief in his voice that he wasn’t blocking Kenpachi’s path any longer.

Passing through another door, he spotted a drunken fat man lying on the ground… Now that was amusing… But not quite what he was looking for. Moving to enter the next pair of doors, Kenpachi wondered what sort of person lived in this house, it was a woman from what he remembered Gin telling him… What sort of woman needed golden doorknobs? Kuchiki probably lived in a house like this one… Rich people were peculiar things and he was keen to observe them.

The room he entered was a grand ballroom lit with damn candles and pixie lights. It looked like something from one of those fairy tales Yachiru loved so very much (even if she did have a habit of squealing ‘Yay, Kenny!’ whenever a monster or troll or beast was introduced…) Speaking of Yachiru, he did hope she’d stayed with the babysitter this time… the secretary of his whose name he never remembered… Maki-Maki or Sneaky Beard – no, that was just what Yachiru called him!

Anyway, the residents of this party all looked loaded and extremely well dressed. He supposed that was why they were all staring at him with their mouths open… his clothes weren’t much on variation since he’d met Kuchiki, hardly appropriate for the country club, he joked to himself.

He spotted one familiar face, Kisuke Urahara… he owned that shop Yachiru bought candies from. His oldest boy was the redheaded joker Ikkaku palled around with; though he hardly recognized the man without his dumb hat.

No sign of Kuchiki though…

“Sir!” The drippy looking man from before caught up with him. He was completely pale and his eyes were darting around for some sort of help… clearly his job was on the line if he messed it up, otherwise there was no way he’d go chasing after a man like Kenpachi Zaraki, whether you knew who he was or not. This idiot must be looking for moral support in the hall or something…

Support that seemed to come in the form of a small Chinese chick.

“May I see your invitation, sir?” She asked. Her voice was really cold and arrogant. Well at least it was a leg up from Mr Too-Scared-to-Talk, now cowering behind her.

“I think it’s pretty obvious I don’t have one,” he said bluntly, “You gonna kick me out, little girl?”

Her eyes narrowed and her arm shot out to seize his wrist, or she would have done so if his hand hadn’t caught hers in his, encasing it in an iron grip.

He probably shouldn’t have gotten cocky, because he was too busy smirking to block her as she jabbed him violently in the stomach. Kenpachi grunted in pain, keeling over a little bit, furiously he tightened his grip; it must be hurting her, but if it was she wasn’t showing…

“What seems to be the problem here, Soi Fon?”

Both of them looked away from each other to gaze up at the speaker. She was indeed very lovely, hot body, nice face. She didn’t look as snobby as the others. In fact he wouldn’t have placed her as the hostess and the owner of the golden doorknobs until he noticed how the girl he was grabbing, instantly dropped her head submissively.

“I apologize, Yoruichi-sama. I was just removing this man from the party.”

The hostess had a cat like smile, she laughed and stepped closer so she was stood beside them, “I’m Shihoin Yoruichi. You must really want to stay if you crossed Soi Fon. What’s your name?”

“Kenpachi Zaraki,” he smirked at her, “Nice to meet you, lady.”

“The pleasure is all mine… Well, Kenpachi Zaraki, I can’t say I like people causing trouble in my home,” she raised a hand on top of his and with surprising ease, pulled it from Soi Fon’s wrist.

So she was pretty and strong. She’d totally be his type if he liked women.

The Chinese girl was glaring at him, clearly embarrassed about her boss having to bail her out.

Yoruichi Shihoin grinned, a hand on his back, leading him down into the party, “Stay and enjoy yourself, just don’t pick any more fights.”

He winked at her with his good eye, “Thanks, you’re a real babe.”

Looking back the Chinese chick, who was now eyeballing him like she wanted to strangle him… He’d just made a friend.

Kenpachi strode proudly towards the punch; now providing the other man hadn’t left, finding Kuchiki would be a piece of cake!

He blinked twice as he spotted Retsu Unohana who he unwillingly accepted as his doctor, she was stood chattering away to a group of men and women, her busty silver haired assistant was with her as normal.

Noticing his gaze, she smiled politely at her friends, excusing herself as she came to talk to him. “Hello there, Zaraki-san,” she beamed at him, “How is your knee?”

The last time he had to see his doctor it had been due to a certain little girl named Yachiru leaving her toys all over the staircase for innocent bystanders to trip on… But he’d told everyone it was through vigorous training.

“Like it was before I broke it,” he grinned at her, “How you been, Unohana?”

She sipper her drink, “I can’t complain. I spend most of my time teaching these days.”

He nodded his head, “Me too. That and watching Yachiru, she’s getting challenging now she’s six.”

Unohana laughed, “I haven’t seen her in ages. You must bring her down to say hello to me.”

“I will, I will. Hey, you should be glad you haven’t seen her. Means she’s healthy as a horse.”

“Just like her daddy.”

He couldn’t help but puff out his chest a little in pride. It was his biggest weakness, the unconditional affection he felt for his daughter.

Suddenly his eyes fell upon Byakuya Kuchiki who was heading out to one of the balconies. He licked his lips, glancing back to Unohana, he smiled gruffly, “Excuse me, Unohana. There’s someone I need to catch up with,” he nodded to her before boldly striding towards the balcony door.

It was a rare thing indeed for him to pursue someone in an intimate sex. His life had a pattern, fight, eat, fight, fuck and fight. Fighting was his whole life, now it was juggled with Yachiru (and even that combined fighting to a degree (if she was eager to kick ass, then who was he to deny her that?)). For the first time in a long time he found himself wanting after a specific person… And he wanted Kuchiki!

There was something about his arrogant, calculating eyes; he’d seen the other looking at him when he thought he wasn’t looking. Kenpachi loved stubborn men, and he’d always had an eye for things just out of his reach.

Byakuya Kuchiki was a treasure to behold… soft black hair, silky, pretty boy liked to care for himself… he had grey eyes, a lovely feature, especially when cloaked with those long dark lashes.

But it was more than that… Kuchiki looked like a man who never lost his composure, and there was nothing sexier than an uptight man becoming completely undone by rough fucking! He wanted to see that cold drawn face flushed pink in ecstasy, tears leaking from those grey eyes as he tried to vain to quite those sweet desperate little screams…

He wanted Kuchiki!

“What on earth are you doing here, Zaraki?”

His tone was cold and uninterested, but he hadn’t pretended to forget his name.

“It’s a party, Kuchiki. Nobody’s told me to leave,” he took a step towards him. For men like Byakuya Kuchiki, he had most likely never been dominated before… So it was all the more thrilling for him to little by little show how he could enforce it through sheer strength.

“Yoruichi always did have… strange tastes,” Byakuya sneered, not quite turning his back on him, but leaning away, his eyes gazing out at his friend’s estate; trying not to become aware of the fact that the other man had almost got him pressed against the balcony ledge.

Kenpachi shrugged, his eyes shamelessly stripping Byakuya’s suit clad form… He wondered if the great Byakuya Kuchiki had ever engaged in such an act as homosexual intercourse… from the way he was checking him out last night, he could say it was about 50/50…

“Are men of your calibre prone to just stare gormlessly?” he asked coldly, “Because in decent company, it’s rude.”

He took a small step closer, “You know you can learn a lot about a person from looking at them.”

Byakuya took a small step backward, “What a pathetic excuse.”

His words and actions were negative, but there was something about his eyes… his slight (and it was ever so slight) smirk upon his lips, which egged Kenpachi on.

“It’s not an excuse. I’ve learnt a lot about you right now,” Kenpachi Zaraki was not a man to enjoy bullshit. He made his intentions clear, no use hiding them like a coward or a damn sneaky woman!

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” he stepped in again, now he leant in, his breath caressing the others ear as he whispered, “You haven’t been laid in a while… Need any help with that?” To match the tone of his voice, he ground his hips upwards provocatively.

It was hot, Kuchiki’s eyes narrowed and he raised his hands, moving to try and push him back a little, but Kenpachi didn’t move, keeping his eyes locked on those deep grey ones.

“That isn’t a no, Kuchiki?” he purred in a low tone, leaning down so his breath tickled his ear. Lowering his hand to wrap around the slender ebony haired man’s waist, he pressed him up against the balcony.

“Oh for goodness sake, you wanted to come outside to smoke so here you are, the whole balcony to yourself… Ooh, not quite!”

He spun around to see two guys who were stood embarrassedly in the doorway. Isshin Kurosaki stood there awkwardly, his hand on the door handle, bright childish eyes wide, biting his lip as though trying to decide on something to say. Ryuken Ishida looked completely unimpressed on being burst into this scene, a cigarette dangling from his lower lip, a lighter in his raised hand.

“Erm, well I hate to interrupt you guys while you’re… doing your thing, ermm?” Isshin gabbled, going to close the door frantically, unfortunately he slammed it on Ryuken’s foot, causing the doctor to drop his lighter, his cigarette and his composure as he cursed angrily in pain.

Kuchiki seemed to have recovered himself, much to Kenpachi’s irritation. He seized the larger man by the shirt and shoved him back. “Stay away from me, you filth,” he sneered at him angrily into his ear, before turning and pulling the door open again. “You didn’t interrupt anything, I was merely making sure Zaraki-san knew not to cause any common trouble at this event,” he informed the two men as he brushed past them and headed back into the crowd.

Kurosaki and Ishida exchanged glances but said no more to Kenpachi as he sulkily followed the other man out… Maybe not tonight, but another day… He had his number as it was.

Byakuya Kuchiki was going to see a lot more of him!

***

On the drive home Shunsui began to worry… Jushiro was being quiet again. It was probably just over-reacting, but every time his partner was quiet and still when he slept, his body racked with worry.

He glanced over at Jushiro again, he was shivering slightly.. still breathing… Reaching across for a second, he stroked his cheek gently, brushing some loose strands of soft white hair behind his ear.

Nanao-chan had gone home with Lisa-chan tonight, they hadn’t seen each other for a while. He smirked to himself, thinking of sending his PA a teasing text message later about lesbian love. It was immature, but immaturity was one of the joys that came with… well, not being exactly twenty-five anymore.

Jushiro let out a little groan as he opened his eyes, “Sorry, how long was I out for?”

“Only a few minutes,” he admitted, stroking his lovers hand gently, “How are you feeling? I’m sorry we had to leave early, but you really didn’t look well.”

“It’s fine,” he rubbed his face, “I had a good time. It was lovely catching up with Unohana-san when we’re not… seeing each other as doctor and patient. And Soi Fon too, I’m glad she’s looking so well.”

Shunsui nodded his head, humming softly to himself as he turned to car down the street towards their home. He pulled up on the drive way, about to undo his seat belt and get out, when he felt Jushiro’s hand on his.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, lowering his voice and turning to look at his partner.

To his great surprise, Jushiro’s eyes were filled with tears, the pale hand tightened ever so slightly, “Hey,” he whispered, keeping his voice low, “You don’t have too… struggle with this, Shunsui…”

His heart began to beat faster in his chest, “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve never lost anyone,” he murmured, “Your parents are still alive, you never knew your grandparents… I don’t think old man Yamamoto is ever going to die… You can’t deal with this, and it’s hurting you.”

Shunsui sat up more, trying to find his voice; he reached out to touch Jushiro’s shoulder, “Hey, why are you saying this to me? We’ve talked about this before… I thought…”

The white haired man shook his head, “You’ve got so much life left in you, Shunsui. Why waste all that time torturing yourself over me? You don’t have to do this anymore,” his voice was shaking, his head bowed, “I love you too much to watch you waste away with me.”

Shunsui took a deep breath, pulling the slimmer man to his chest, his hands lost in the smooth white waves, “You remember when we were kids? Everyone used to comment on how we were always together, right? Nothing’s changed, Jushiro,” he mumbled, nuzzling his face against the cold forehead, “You were always too damn noble for your own good. You can even say you’ll leave me, but I wouldn’t change this for the world. There’s nobody else I’d want…”

“But-!”

“There’s nothing you can say. I’ll always be here,” he took Jushiro’s hand and placed it on his chest, his warm palm over the others, “Even after you…” his voice shook a little, and he pulled his lover near to him, closing his eyes, his arms tightly wrapped around his body.

And Jushiro began to cry, for the first time in a very long time. Sometimes things come out a lot worse when you bottle them behind a smile for too long.