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The Broken Souls of the Seireitei

By: sweetsatincocoa
folder Bleach › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 30
Views: 12,187
Reviews: 81
Recommended: 0
Currently Reading: 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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Moments Like These

A/N: Wow. Thanks to all of you for making this so special.


Rangiku walked away from the 4th division, ignoring Isane’s looks. Rukia’s tomato juice had done nothing for her hangover, and being the noble friend that she was, Rangiku offered to go see Hanataro to get something to settle the throb behind Little Kuchiki’s eyes. Isane had warily stared at her, almost inviting her to a fight. Rangiku refused to study the lanky silver haired woman, and dealt only with Hanataro, their conversation hushed and private. He placed the wooden vial into her palm and gave her a wan smile.

Hanataro had grown these past few years into a handsome, solemn man, tall with sweet eyes. He actually greatly resembled Uryuu, much to the point that Nemu had taken to him strongly, but of course not that strongly because at most, he could only be a poor substitute. He and Rikichi spent most of their time flirting around, making the women and girls of the Seireitei swoon. Taro, as he had the ladies call him, was still awkward, but not nearly as much as before, and had grown tall enough to at least look Rangiku in the eye. He wore his long hair in a similar fashion to Kira’s and he had a low, calming voice. He was still awed by Rukia, and would do anything for her. They were friends to this day, enough so that at times both Renji and Ichigo would exhibit unreasonable jealousy and poke fun at Hanataro. The young man would take it all in stride, knowing that Ichigo and Renji would eventually bang themselves up and need his services, so he could bandage them up and give them an enema later.

Rangiku thanked him profusely and even pinched one of his cheeks, making him blush. He was so adorable, and she couldn’t help herself. She decided not to chide him for not coming to the party, she knew he had his reasons, and the tension between him and Rukia was suffocating at best, and given the way the night went, it was better that he had stayed in the Seireitei. She walked outside, noticing a looming figure over her.

“Matsumoto fukutaicho, Have you seen Kuchiki taicho?” Rangiku looked up and saw Zaraki, who was frowning toward the 6th division quarters.

Rangiku chuckled and tucked the wooden vial into her obi. “No, Zaraki taicho. I felt his reiatsu, but I haven’t seen him since he left this morning.”

Zaraki looked moodily at the dust on the road settling from Byakuya’s shunpo and cast his gaze on Isane, who wore a murderous look. “Damn,” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Rangiku looked confused, and Zaraki looked down at her, also confused. They stood there for a moment, looking at each other silently.

“Is she still staring at us?” Zaraki asked in a low voice, looking down at the pretty face below him. Rangiku stared back into his eye, not knowing what to say. She studied his face, the perfectly tanned brown skin, the black band around his neck, the scars-

“Matsumoto fukutaicho? Matsumoto? Rangiku?” Zaraki brought his index finger to her chin and wiggled it, making her laugh and snap out of her trance. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. What did you ask me?”

Zaraki smiled, deep and genuine. “Never mind. If you see Kuchiki taicho, tell him I request audience with him. By the way, did I lay you right last night?”

Rangiku flinched and looked at him wide eyed. “Excuse me?”

“You know. On the bed. Did I lay you right?” Zaraki paused and thought about what he said. He burst out laughing, and Rangiku looked at him for a moment before the hilarity of it hit her and she laughed too, getting to the point where both of their ribs ached from laughter.

“What am I supposed to say? Yes?” She gasped, holding her side. Zaraki grinned widely, showing pearly perfect teeth. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a little shake, chuckling as he did so. “Maybe one day, Matsumoto fukutaicho. Have a good day, alright?” He smiled and squeezed her arm gently, making her heart beat faster, before looking up where Isane was standing. His smile faded abruptly and he turned and walked away. Rangiku watched him with a small smile, the smile deepening when she heard the door slam and felt Isane’s reiatsu fade further away.

“Matsumoto fukutaicho!” Rangiku looked up to see a flushed Nemu running toward her. The girl was running so fast, she nearly ran past her. She held her arms out to catch her, and from the look of her face she could tell that Nemu had been crying. She panted and heaved, her words garbled.

“Kurotsuchi taicho believed it! He thought I was doing paperwork for you and Nanao-san, and ripped all of them to shreds! He frightened me so…” Nemu looked as if she wanted to cry again, and Rangiku held her briefly and pulled her toward an alleyway. There she gave her a strong hug and reassuring kiss on top of the head.

“He fell for it, which was the plan. He didn’t sense you had been with Ishida-kun, which is good. No telling what that devil would do to you if he found out where you were. Those were old papers that neither Nanao or I needed for our divisions, so it’s fine he destroyed them.” She wiped the tears from Nemu’s face and pinched her cheeks until she smiled. Rangiku smiled back and took her hand to lead her back to the street.

“We must be leaving. We aren’t exactly in friendly waters; well, not me anyway. I suppose you are fine with Isane and Momo, but there’s no telling what kind of crap they can concoct as to why you and I are in this space right now. You will be fine; you know if anything happens that you have a friend in virtually every division now. You aren’t alone, Nemu-chan.” Rangiku hugged her again and ran off, leaving the stricken woman standing in the middle of the road.

Nemu watched as Rangiku left, tears welling in her eyes again. She didn’t say it, but she was indeed alone. And she had a feeling that sooner or later that she would be reminded just how alone she was. She looked up to see Hanataro carrying a bucket to draw some water and decided to go to him to ask for the usual healing salts. It was good to always keep them on hand, just in case. Kurotsuchi had his own medicines, but mixing them with other sources made her heal faster. He could never know; he would probably kill Hanataro in front of her as punishment. She shuddered from the thought as she ran to talk to her apothecary.
*********************

Byakuya pulled his Kenseikan from his head and tore a brush through his hair nervously. Ichigo should have come by now. He knew Rukia had relayed the message, because she had come home and told her so. Of course he played nonchalant, but was internally doing flip flops. He wanted Ichigo to want to see him again, and he hoped the teen hadn’t taken offense to him having to leave early. He stared at himself in his vanity, and a sudden urge to break the mirror washed through his arm. No. He had broken several mirrors when Hisana died. He broke even more after Metastacia murdered Kaien. Was that the reason why he broke the mirrors? Or was it because of Kaien’s last words? He wasn’t there. Rukia could have lied about what was said. He sat on the chaise, his mind mischievously squirming, his beautiful face contorting into something almost ugly and sinister looking. A soft rap on the door broke his horrid thoughts, and Akira, his personal servant boy was at the door, head deeply bowed.

“Lord Kuchiki, Kurosaki Ichigo is here for you. Miss Rukia has him in her quarters now. Shall I send him to you?” The boy coughed when Byakuya inadvertently flared his reiatsu, jealous because Ichigo went to Rukia first. He chided himself in his mind for being so preoccupied to not even notice Ichigo had returned to the Seireitei, let alone his estate.

“Yes.” The answer was curt, and Akira tried to stop coughing as he bowed again to fetch Ichigo. Moments later, there was a knock on the door, and the Shoji slid open, and orange hair was visible.

“Hey, Byakuya. Why do you look so pissed?” Ichigo said, noticing the hard look on his lover’s face. He thought for a moment and smiled, walking over to him.

“I didn’t ask your permission to come in. My manners blow. Sorry.” He grinned toothily and sat down beside Byakuya on the chaise, taking the brush from his hand. Byakuya’s eyes widened as Ichigo began to brush his hair gently, actually getting it straighter than he did usually yanking on it.

“Why haven’t you said anything to me yet?” Ichigo whispered, picking up a section of hair at the nape, making the warm air from his breath hit his bare neck. Byakuya shuddered and sighed, closing his eyes. Ichigo brushing his hair was extremely relaxing, almost as much as a healing bath, or a night of much needed sleep on clean cool linens.

“I am at times a man of very little speech. I was deep in thought when you arrived.” His eyes opened when Ichigo paused.

“Did I come at the wrong time?” Byakuya heard the worry in the boy’s voice.

“No. I was hoping you would come earlier, but then again I was glad you didn’t. The taicho meeting lasted longer than usual, and you would have been left with nothing to do.” He sighed with relief and closed his eyes again when Ichigo resumed brushing his hair. The reiatsu in the room was sultry and erotic; Zangetsu was propped against the wall beside the door, and Senbonzakura was on a stand on the fireplace mantle, and she seemed to hum happily. She was such an uptight zanpakuto, and as Ichigo would later learn, didn’t get along easily with other zanpakuto. She positively hated Shinso, and when Byakuya would stop and talk to Gin, Senbonzakura would cause Byakuya such a headache that he would have to always excuse himself to get her away from him. He should have realized then that Gin was bad, but then again, Senbonzakura was highly selective.

Ichigo stopped brushing the black silk and wrapped his arms around Byakuya’s torso, leaning his head on the elder’s back. The contented sigh from the boy made Byakuya’s eyes widen, and then soften in compassion. Ichigo was content just being there with him, holding him, and it was a strange feeling, both vulnerable and protected at the same time. Byakuya leaned his head back to rest on Ichigo’s, and they sat there for a moment, their heads together with black hair streaming over Ichigo’s face.

“Thank you for brushing my hair. It feels amazing. How did you do it so well?”

Ichigo smirked and gave Byakuya a gentle push. “My dad can’t do hair for shit so I had to learn how to make two squirming, angry twins look decent for school.” His thoughts strayed to his sisters briefly, and Byakuya could sense the shift in his reiatsu.

“Are they alright?” He didn’t want to press too much, as he didn’t know what happened to darken Ichigo’s mood.

Ichigo sighed. “No. They are going to become shinigami.” Byakuya nodded silently. He remembered the anxiety he felt when Rukia was placed in Ukitake and Shiba’s division, and rallied for her to not become a seated officer. He understood the emotion Ichigo felt for his sisters, and the want for them to not have to lead such a dangerous and unstable life. He turned around and wrapped his arms around Ichigo, sighing when the teen rested his head on his shoulder. A pang of guilt hit him as he wondered if Ichigo had ever really had a place to rest his head. He stroked the orange tendrils for a moment and pulled back to look at the younger face.

“Did you like your breakfast?” He smiled as Ichigo’s face lit up.

“Yeah, the parts that weren’t on fire. I came in just in time to see Rukia scraping the eggs she had dropped on the floor back in the pan. It wasn’t so bad, after I picked out long black hair and dirt from the floor.” Ichigo laughed at Byakuya’s red face. He looked as if he were going to murder his sister for serving bunk food and putting his name on it. Byakuya chuckled and pinched Ichigo’s arm roughly, making the teen whine and try to get away. Byakuya tripped him and Ichigo fell on the tatami mat, the Kuchiki landing on him.

“So you want to play games then, huh?” Byakuya pretended to choke Ichigo, but was actually tickling him behind the ears. His old friend had been ticklish there also, so it was worth a try with his new friend as well. Ichigo laughed and kicked his legs to no avail, whipping his head back and forth trying to capture one of Byakuya’s hands between his cheek and shoulder. His eyes were wet from laughing tears, and he was still giggling as the beautiful mouth descended upon his.

Their kiss started off slow and innocent, just their lips grazing over each other. Ichigo opened his mouth and ran his tongue over Byakuya’s teeth, moaning slightly into the cavern. Byakuya smiled and caught the tongue between his lips, sucking on the appendage and subsequently making something between both their legs hard. He let go of Ichigo’s tongue and started sucking on his bottom lip, the slurping sounds immensely exciting both of them. They continued kissing deeply and writhing on the tatami, the tightly woven straw creaking loudly beneath them. Byakuya pulled Ichigo’s shoulder and fell to his right, making the boy on top of him.

“Ichigo. Make love to me,” Byakuya whispered, shaking his haori off his shoulders. Ichigo looked bewildered.

“What?”

Byakuya gave him a look. “I was trying to be romantic and whisper. Did you not hear me?” He was patient, knowing his words were heard and had thrown the boy for a loop.

“But last night I…I mean you were…I thought that I was gonna be…” Byakuya chuckled and put a regal finger to Ichigo’s lips. “I know what you mean. And no, as much as you bending over whenever I ask excites me, there are times that I want to be bent over as well.” Byakuya leaned back seductively, his haori now off of him completely. Ichigo swallowed nervously, but the slow kisses seemed to calm him down.

“Go slowly. I want you to remember this time with me. I want to feel every inch of you on me and in me. Ichigo…I want you,” Byakuya whispered, bringing his lips to Ichigo’s. They kissed deeply again, pieces of clothing seeming to evaporate after each kiss. Ichigo smiled and stood, scooping Byakuya up from the floor and cradling him against his chest. The emotions between them were strange, but like they had felt them for years. They gazed in each other’s eyes, all the awkwardness and uncertainty gone. They wanted each other, and nothing else mattered.
************************

Rangiku looked at the liquid being poured into her sake cup, laughing. She, Nanao, Renji, and Kira all sat at Tsumiyo’s, enjoying each other’s company. Yamamoto really didn’t like that his shinigami had vices such as drinking and smoking, but he’d rather have someone he knew like Tsumiyo open something like a teahouse instead of having his precious wanted the Rukongai streets causing trouble. Everyone knew that Tsumiyo and Yamamoto had a long standing relationship, and occasionally Shunsui would joke that she was the reason why Yama-ji kept his body so tight. Tsumiyo was a short little woman with long black hair and soft brown eyes. She always wore a gray kimono with the number one on the breast in intricate gold threading, but explained that ‘ichi’ was her favorite kanji. Many eyes were rolled at that explanation, and one would have to wonder that if Yamamoto‘s division was a different number if that would have been the gold emblem instead.

“Do you know where Nemu-san is? I wanted her to ask Hanataro something for me,” Kira mused aloud quietly after pouring Rangiku’s sake.

Nanao shrugged. “She’s probably writing Ishida-kun a letter.”

Renji lit up. “Oh yes! I know what it will say. Koibito,” he started in a high pitched voice, holding balled hands to his chest and batting eyelashes, “I looooooooooooove you! You make my nipples hard and my pussy wet with sex juice! I want to hump you and make noises like ooh chii aaah chii oooh chii ahh chii-” The slap to the back of his head made him frown. He turned to look at Nanao, who smiled toothily and shrugged. Renji was annoying, and it wasn’t nice to make fun of Nemu’s relationship, and she told him so. He sulked like the baby he was and folded his arms, refusing to talk.

Rangiku opened her mouth to chastise him, when she saw Yumichika, Ikkaku, and Zaraki walk in. Renji instantly brightened and waved them over, and stood to get them extra chairs. Yumi smiled brightly at all of them and sat down primly next to Nanao, quickly downing her sake. Ikkaku sat next to Kira, and Zaraki sat next to Rangiku. He gave her a wolfish look, to which she immediately laughed.

“What’s funny?” Renji asked, brooding again when Ikkaku paid more attention to Kira than to him. Zaraki put his head in his hand and looked at Rangiku, darting his eyes back and forth. She chuckled and poured him some sake, and he took the bottle from her and poured her some also. They seemed lost in their own world, and didn’t notice that the conversation at the table stopped and everyone was looking at them.

“What the fuck are you looking at?!!” Zaraki thundered, making the table shrink back.

“N-no disrespect, Zaraki taicho. I’ve just never seen Rangiku grin like that. Well that one time in the ryoka world when she stole some money from the cafeteria and went to the mall…” Renji trailed off when everyone was looking at him like he had a rat hanging out of his mouth. “You know what? All of you’s go to hell. I’mma go find Rukia.” He stood and threw his money down for his drink and started to walk away.

“Rukia don’t want your funky ass,” Ikkaku muttered, making Renji pause.

“If that’s the case, then we have much in common, eh Ikkaku-kun?”

Tsumiyo looked at the shiny bald man and the long manned red head and decided that as long as they don’t break anything that they can brawl. She went back to drying the sake cups behind the counter, keeping her fingers flexed should she have to bust out some impromptu kido.

“Hey! Calm that shit down,” Zaraki ordered, glaring at the two men with their foreheads pressed against each other. Both were so temperamental, he reasoned they both wanted each other, but weren’t able to express such. Something that Kurotsuchi said earlier was true; a lot of the men in the Seireitei were gay, or at least bi. He was as straight as an arrow, but there were times he wished Yumi had breasts instead of a penis since he was quite pretty. But the woman in front of him was more than pretty enough, and even though they didn’t mean to be, Ikkaku and Renji were being major cockblocks.

Ikkaku and Renji called a cease fire and Kira sat back in between them, as he could readily restrain one or both of them if necessary. Renji clicked his tongue and poured sake for Ikkaku, a sign of good will. Ikkaku nodded and poured for Renji, and conversation picked back up. For a moment, that is.
**********************

“Tsumiyo’s is always so much fun! I’m glad you decided you wanted to hang out with us tonight,” Kiyone said to Momo as they walked up to the amber lit teahouse. Momo smiled at the younger shinigami, ruffling her sandy colored hair. She, Isane, and Kiyone were thick as thieves, and formed their own little clique after being excluded from the other female fukutaicho. Momo didn’t care much; she thought they were all bitches, especially Matsumoto and Ise. She had truthfully never liked either of them, and after that night Aizen came to her, watery eyed and drunk, telling her how Rangiku had seduced him, she could have murdered her. Her eyes narrowed as they walked into the teahouse, immediately seeing the rival group.

“Bastards! Especially that one,” Isane snarled, glaring at Zaraki. His eyes met hers for the briefest of moments, and he looked away, almost as if she were a complete stranger. Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed the bitter lump that had formed the day he left.

Kiyone left the trio and walked up to the table, clicking her tongue in a chastising manner. “Zaraki-san, are you that hard up to be trying to talk to that?” She stressed, pointing at Rangiku. Rangiku’s face twisted into an ugly look and she turned to Nanao.

“Did that little fourth grader just say something about me?” She asked, making the table laugh. Kiyone blushed furiously and glared at a silent Zaraki, hands on her hips.

“Zaraki-san. My sister is waiting. Just apologize so that you can get back together. Everyone knows what you did, and she forgives you! Just tell her you are sorry and you don’t have to bottom feed anymore with these losers.”

Zaraki glared at Kiyone and then Isane behind her. “I don’t know what Isane told you, but we are over. If there ever was a ‘we’ to begin with.”

Isane rushed over and towered over the table. “Go to hell, Kenpachi! You know we had something!”

He snorted. “Now is not the time or the place, but if you want to act like an asshole, I will more than help you. So do you want to continue, or do you want to act like an adult for once and leave it alone?” His unpatched eye glared menacingly, and Kira wondered if Isane was just too mad or too stupid to be scared.

Instead of replying, Isane turned her wrath to Rangiku. “You fucking slut! First you take Aizen, then you take Kenpachi! Bitch!” She yelled, attempting to launch herself at Rangiku. Zaraki stood and blocked her, throwing her down easily on the ground.

“She hasn’t taken anything from any of you that was yours. Get over yourselves. Stupid bitches,” He barked, moving to sit back down. Rangiku cleared her throat and placed some coins delicately on the table. She went to walk away, and she stopped when Zaraki gently grabbed her arm. She wordlessly pulled away and stepped over a still laid out Isane.

“You always cause trouble wherever you go! You should have followed that dog Ichimaru to Hueco Mundo.” Momo’s words were the last straw. Rangiku paused and turned, her eyes red with tears and anger, her hands thrown up in disgust.

“None of you skanks have anything I want! Besides, Zaraki isn’t mine, you dumb fuck! Take him! I don’t have him! I don’t have anything! But I tell you what I do have. It’s patience. I have a shitload of patience because it’s taken EVERYTHING in me not to go West Rukongai on ALL OF YOUR ASSES!!!!!” Her whole face had become red with anger and a blue pulsing vein appeared above her right eye, and her large chest was heaving deeply. Yumichika had grabbed Kira’s sleeve with a sweaty palm, literally bouncing with excitement. Ever since Momo had started that stupid rumor, her had encouraged her to introduce her tabi to Momo’s ass.

Rangiku turned her wrath directly to Momo. “And you, ya stupid fucking idiot! How could you not see Aizen’s true colors? Always in that stupid voice, ‘Aiiiizen Taiiiicho! Aiiizen Taiiiicho!’ No wonder he tried to kill you, you goddamn parasite! You can’t even form a thought unless it’s about your precious Aiiiizen twitch, who is probably taking backshots from Gin right about now! You are so pathetic…I actually feel bad for you.” Rangiku turned to walk away, just as Zaraki noticed his sake cup was gone. He looked up to see Momo doing a weak shunpo and he called out Rangiku’s name, but not in time enough. As soon as she turned, Momo slammed the small porcelain cup against Rangiku’s head, severely cutting her cheek.

“No, Momo! No! Oh hell…” Renji tried to warn also, but knew now that there was no way to stop the floodgates. Even Isane and Kiyone looked scared. Rangiku fell to the ground, and in shock, touched the gash, pulling her hand back to see crimson coated fingers. The rest was a blur. Her grabbing Momo by that idiotic bun, ripping the cloth and throwing her out the door. Them fighting in the street. Nanao and Kira running after them, unfortunately getting hit in the process. Rangiku vaguely remembered bashing Momo’s head against one of the steps until it turned bright red, but she was dangerously close to blacking out in a rage.

When she came to, her whole body hurt, and instead of waking up to her soft bed, she awoke to seeing her taicho glaring at her murderously. All the superficial wounds had been healed through the night, possibly by Taro, but her insides felt sore, and sleeping on the hard jail mattress was of no help. As she was released from her cell, she turned to see the cell beside her, which had numerous Division 4 members in it. When some of them moved back, she saw Momo’s purple bruised body, and smiled with satisfaction. Whatever punishment she would receive would be worth seeing that little shit beat to a pulp. Serves her right for trying to swell up at her.
**********************
Ichigo bent down to kiss Byakuya passionately. They had been building up slowly, touching and kissing each other in the most intimate of ways. Ichigo softly kissed Byakuya on the neck, pausing when he felt the man shudder beneath him. He drew a line with his tongue down his chest, gently nibbling on the hardened nipples, evoking another shudder from the noble. He rubbed the pale flesh with one warm hand, examining the tight ribbed flesh, closing his eyes at the incredible feel of another’s skin.

Byakuya couldn’t help but lean into Ichigo’s silken touch. He wanted to tell the boy he could press harder, but he remembered he wasn’t trying to tease him, more like get a feel for what he should do. He leaned up to watch Ichigo’s descent down his body, his eyes rolling at seeing the sweet little pink tongue run circles down his torso. He gasped when he felt Ichigo’s hand on his straining erection, stroking him in an indescribable pleasuring way. Their mouths found each other and melded into a steamy kiss, Byakuya darting his own tongue back and forth in Ichigo’s mouth. Ichigo caught the mischievous tongue and sucked on it, moving down to his bottom lip.

Ichigo stroked Byakuya firmly, giving him a powerful and direct gaze, one that Byakuya actually had to avert his eyes from. He wasn’t ready to be looked at like that again. Ichigo’s pulsing hand brought his face back close to where he could be kissed and loved, the two things he feared most. Ichigo held the base of Byakuya’s dick, lowering his mouth onto it. The Kuchiki’s fists tightened and he breathed shallowly to try to keep from exploding in Ichigo’s mouth. He knew his precum was flowing freely, and that Ichigo would be a dutiful lover and swallow every drop, and it greatly excited him.

Ichigo looked up at Byakuya and nearly stopped sucking him, as his facial expression had not changed. He knew he had beginner skills at best, but before doubting himself too much, he saw a few beads of sweat and realized he was doing fine. He opened his mouth wider and took more inside his mouth, causing Byakuya’s leg to involuntarily jerk against him. Ichigo sped up his movements, also taking time out to suck on his balls, which seemed to be tightening up. Byakuya opened his mouth as if he were to say something, but a melodious moan came out, and Ichigo knew to keep his mouth on him, and rightly so because not a moment after that beautiful chord rang from Byakuya’s throat did his tangy seed wash over his lover’s lips. Ichigo sucked and swallowed at the same time, closing his eyes to savor the new taste in his mouth. He placed a gentle kiss on the moist head before rising on his knees, his own erection large and ready.

“That oil…it’s in my haori.” The voice was hoarse and sleepy sounding, and Byakuya’s eyes were half lidded and relaxed. Ichigo gave him a chastising look as he fetched the oil.

“I can’t believe you stole my oil! You dirty thief!” He play scolded, giving a light slap on Byakuya’s thigh. He received a raspberry in return, and couldn’t help kissing the tongue sticking out of his lover’s mouth. As they kissed, Ichigo coated a couple of fingers, remembering also to grease the small puckered entrance. He sighed and prayed that he would be good as he slowly inserted one of his fingers. He judged Byakuya’s face to make sure he wasn’t hurting him, and after a simple nod and gentle kiss, he added another finger and started to work the two to stretch the hole. Byakuya started to grind against the hand, placing Ichigo’s free hand against his face to suck on his fingers. He turned Ichigo on his back and removed all of his fingers from his body, and squeezed some of the oil into his hand to better prepare both of them. Ichigo had done a wonderful job, really, but he was horny and wanted another release, and knew how to get both of them there.

After applying an extra coat of oil, he slid down Ichigo’s length, hissing at the feeling of again being so completely filled. Ichigo squinted his eyes, and sighed at the tightness surrounding him. Somehow, it felt like his whole body was inside that searing heat of Byakuya. They lay there together for a moment before Ichigo started to thrust slowly upward, the feeling of friction total bliss. He could have never even imagined that being in someone…being in Byakuya could make him feel so grounded and free at the same time. He gazed at the beauty above him, the long black hair flowing back and forth as he rode. Byakuya’s hands were grasping at Ichigo’s chest, and he rode harder and faster before Ichigo turned and put him on his back again. Ichigo started to thrust deeply, pausing only to place a long, creamy leg upon his shoulder for total access. He moaned the Kuchiki’s name over and over, even after he came inside the hot cavern. Their lips were inseparable, alternating between slow, patient kisses and hot, passionate tongue kisses.

Ichigo rolled off of Byakuya and looked at him curiously, as he had never seen such a serene look on someone’s face. “You look like you just came home from a long journey,” he commented, stroking a soft cheek.

Byakuya chuckled. “You might say something like that.” Ichigo waited for him to elaborate, but sighed when silence reigned. Byakuya wrapped an arm behind Ichigo’s head and pressed their faces together.

“Remember what I told you? Just sleep. Tomorrow will take care of itself.”

Ichigo frowned. “If you say so.” He sighed again and wrapped his arms around his lover, his eyes suddenly weighing millions of pounds. He closed his eyes, and soon, both of them were snoring peacefully.


A/N: Was that not great? Next chapter will start some serious plot development...I'm so excited I could pay my cell phone bill just to call you and tell you about it! I'm crazy. Kisses.
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