Payment

Title: Payment

Authors: Kokuchou Kayou Studios (BrucesGirl and R. Brightside)

Pairing: Ishida Ryuken / Kuchiki Byakuya

A/N: We are the queens of crack pairings! GO US!

While seated in Ishida Uryuu’s apartment. Byakuya's annoyance stemmed from two things. One, he hated the real world, and he felt horribly constricted in his gigai and absolutely hated the fact that he was restricted in some bullshit style of clothing that Urahara-baka had called a suit.

Two, he hated being around Ichigo...and he hated the way that Renji would pull Ichigo into dark corners when he thought no one was looking. Byakuya gazed evenly at the Quincy across the tatami mat from him, and his eyes narrowed. "And what would your father have to do with the changing particles in the gateways between worlds?" Ishida opened his mouth, but the door to his apartment burst open, and Orihime burst through her eyes wide and nervous.

"Uryuu-kun! Your father is outside in his car, and he's coming up. He doesn't look happy."

Ryuken wasn't happy, in the least. He could feel the Reiatsu of a Shinigami in his house... and the fact that he'd had to deal with another pissy patient attempting to sue him that day hadn't made it that much better, either. He pushed the key into the lock, and stepped into the house, ridding himself of his shoes before closing the door with a deadly quietness, letting the soft click run through the silent house.

He leant against the front door as he lit up a cigarette, taking a deep inhale of the smoke. Fuck, that felt good. He stepped through the house quietly, his feet making no noise on the floor. He immediately went through to the kitchen, passing through the room containing his son and the captain without so much as a sound, no soft mutter of greeting. It was, of course, mutual.

Byakuya coughed. His delicate nose wrinkled up into a kittenish expression, and then, he sneezed. What the hell? Ishida snickered. “He smokes.” Byakuya gave him an annoyed glance and stood silently, and turned his back on the young Quincy, proceeding to follow the older one through the house.

He found him in a massive study, books lining the walls impressively, reminding Byakuya of his own study at the Kuchiki mansion. “I have a few questions for you, Ishida Ryuken.” He murmured. He didn’t bother to knock or to show any kind of courtesy. He was just a Quincy after all.

"Do you mind at all?" Ryuken snapped back, taking a deep inhale of the 'cancer stick' (as it was so commonly called) and glaring at the Shinigami as he blew the smoke in his general direction, tapping one side of the keyboard of the laptop as he irritably waited for the thing to load.

"Surely, you noble types know how to knock, don't you? Tche." He tapped his cigarette over the ash tray, a decent amount falling off the end. "And I don't want to answer whatever damn questions you have for me. I'm busy." The Quincy held the cigarette with his lips as he began to type quickly over the keyboard, glasses reflecting the screen he was focused on.

“While you are willing to kill yourself, I would like to make sure the rest of humanity lives.” Byakuya murmured in annoyance. He sat down in front of the desk, his piercing blue eyes gazing evenly at the Quincy. “What is this ability…that you have to manipulate spirit particles from realm to realm?”

He leaned forward and snapped the laptop shut shortly, secretly hoping he caught a finger or two in the process. He didn’t like this Quincy, even though; there was an artistic beauty to his face. He was still handsome and young, and he also seemed fairly intelligent, which was something that Byakuya appreciated, bastard Quincy or no.

Ryuken moved his fingers out of the way just as Byakuya closed his laptop, and he rested his elbows either side of the device and laced his fingers together, cradling his chin. "You Shinigami don't care about humanity. My wife is dead - raped and killed by a Shinigami. How exactly is that in any way caring to humanity?" He questioned, eyes narrowed dangerously.

The reiatsu in the room was thick with anger, thickened by the desire to simply shoot the Captain through the heart. "Just get out. You can get those answers from your 12th Division's archives, I'm very sure. After all, a... friend," The word was sneered, almost sarcastic. "From medical school has informed me of the obsession your captain has for my kind. In fact, it's been demonstrated, as you likely know. Now, get out. You aren't welcomed here."

“And I don’t want to be here.” Byakuya stood, his face registering something akin to anger. “However, that doesn’t negate the fact that I am here and that I need your help.” He walked around the desk and then stood dangerously close to the Quincy’s chair and leaned down to glare at him. “I need to ask a few questions.”

Byakuya repeated in a deep, menacing tone, full of controlled rage. He was nearly nose to nose with the Quincy, his dango sweetened breath rasping over Ryuken’s senses like a soft, sensual breeze. His eyes were a strange, olive blue green, and they were harder than his son’s, and they held less passion but more anger. Byakuya was a bit fascinated by the man, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, his stoic expression remained in place.

“How. Do. You. Manipulate. Spirit. Particles?” He repeated slowly.

"Like this." Ryuken pushed the Shinigami back with an outstretched arm, the bow forming immediately and easily in front of Byakuya. Instead of letting the particles dissipate once again, however, he pulled back an arrow, looking surprisingly less agitated. "Do I need to demonstrate how to kill a Shinigami as well, or do you want to leave so I can finish my work?"

Byakuya stepped forward, the point of the blue arrow against his chest, the sharp point digging slightly into the gigai and making it bleed. “Demonstrate if you must. The only thing you will be killing is this wretched gigai that Urahara-baka has dressed me in.” His hand reached up, and his lithe fingers gently wrapped around the wrist that contained the bow and the charm, and he gazed into Ryuken’s eyes evenly.

“All I need is information. Let us save the feuding for a less important time. Aizen will be coming soon.” His fingers tightened only slightly, and the tips of his digits pressed against Ryuken’s pulse point. It was fast. Ryuken was nervous?

The Quincy looked at the hand on his wrist, regarding it as if it were dirt before yanking his hand away, the bow disappearing as he rubbed his wrist, flicking it out to one side as if dusting it off. “Don’t touch me.” He growled softly, before holding out his palm. “Our Reiatsu is attractive to all spirit particles – when formed into a certain shape, the spirit particles form within it.”

As he said, a ball of energy formed in his hand, and spirit particles were absorbed into the mass, creating a dangerous sphere, the color white with a blue tint. The ball disappeared, and Ryuken pulled the stub of a cigarette out of his mouth to push it into the ash tray, blowing the smoke blatantly into the Shinigami’s face. “What else do you need to know, so you’ll leave and never come back?”

Oh, goddamn it. The smoke blown directly into his face made Byakuya sick to his stomach, and he began to cough delicately into his hand, his blue eyes piercing Ryuken’s face defiantly. He snapped his fingers, and kido ball of White Lightening danced on his palm, and he glared up at the Quincy. He straightened himself, and he held up the ball, and it slowly turned blue as he began to gather different types of spirit energy.

“Like this?” He asked pointedly. “I have to learn.” As he gathered the different energies, his eyes suddenly took on a stricken look, and he released the energy ball with a curse. “I can’t stabilize it.” Byakuya help up his hand with a deep burn on it.

Oh, for the love of-- Ryuken sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It will take years. It takes a specific kind of Reiatsu - ours. Unless you're willing, of course, to have burnt-through palms. You will most likely end up burning all the nerve endings in your skin... and you'll be unable to feel. But, if you aren't deterred, don't form a ball of still energy. Don't practice here - you'll trash the place."

“I don’t have years.” Byakuya snapped. “I have seven days.” He crossed his arms over his chest, grimacing at the expensive suit jacket preventing his free movement. He ripped it off in annoyance and tossed it across the chair, and he ran his hands through his raven hair.

“I have seven days before I have to report back with the ability to teach it to others. We have to close the gates to the Espada army because if they come through, they will destroy Seireitei.” He gazed evenly at Ryuken.

“Where do you propose we practice?” He stepped forward, close enough to smell the pleasant, faint traces of Ryuken’s aftershave and soap he used to bathe with. “Well?”

Ryuken snorted, one brow quirking. "Now, this is what I don't understand..." He walked past Byakuya, lighting up yet another cigarette and holding it with his lips, pausing to take a deep inhale. "...Is why you, the person who was in charge of the killing of our race, have come back to ask for my help?" His eyes were cold, and he almost chuckled as he regarded the Shinigami.

"I came home to the sight of my parents dead on their bed, blood on every surface. Not to mention, you were the one to drive a Zanpaktou through my shoulder. You should have thought ahead to something like this and kept our race alive. Then, you wouldn't have to learn at all."

Byakuya was getting increasingly frustrated with Ryuken. “Now isn’t the time for the past.” He ground out. His fists clenched, and his eyes flashed in fury. If Aizen got out of Hueco Mundo, there wouldn’t even be a single Quincy left, much less any Shinigami or souls for that matter.

Byakuya, at the thought of their time ticking away, snapped. His lithe fingered hand wrapped neatly around Ryuken’s throat, and he pulled the Quincy to him with a snarl. “And if you don’t want my Zanpaktou through your heart, you’ll listen to what I am telling you. We do not have time to dally in the past. The danger is in the present, you selfish brat.”

Ryuken growled menacingly, his hands going to the tie around Byakuya's neck, yanking the loose end of the silk material and pushing it up so that it quite effectively cut off the captain's air. "The past haunted me for years. Decades. And besides..." Ryuken pushed the hand on his throat away delicately.

"I don't feel the want to teach you. It's a waste of my time... and in my few hours that I'm actually home every day, I prefer to relax than teach Shinigami such as yourself how to master a technique that is unique to one race... and should be unique to just one race."

Byakuya pulled Ryuken’s hand away from his scarf and held his wrist firmly, not hurting, but definitely not gentle. His steel eyes gazed at the man for a moment before he let loose a frustrated sigh. “A deal then. What can I give you for the knowledge?” Byakuya asked.

“I understand that the act of harnessing different types and absorbing spirit energy is indicative to your order, Ishida Ryuken, but you teaching may mean the difference between the life of humanity and Seireitei…or their deaths.” That was a powerful responsibility to place on a Quincy’s shoulders. His eyes flickered involuntarily to the man’s lips and then back up to his dark, ferocious green eyes. “What do you want for it?”

"What do I want..." Ryuken really did think about that one, moving away to lean on the edge of his desk, looking Byakuya directly in the eyes as his mind's eye wandered elsewhere. "I'm not particularly sure. I lost my wife... and then my lover left me. There's not much chance that you could get either of them back to me, no matter how much I want it to happen."

The Quincy's gaze flickered upwards, the ex-captain's name on his lips. He sighed, taking a deep drag of the cigarette in his mouth and then stubbed it out. "What do you think is worth giving me?"

“I’m tiring of your surly remarks.” Byakuya shifted on his feet and folded his long arms over his chest. “I don’t have worldly wealth. I have myself and a wealth of knowledge.” He gazed at Ryuken evenly, his eyes radiating annoyance and anger at the Quincy’s stubbornness.

“I don’t have time for you to deliberate on what you want of me. I can’t give you what you want if I don’t know your desires in the first place.” The nobleman growled in annoyance. He almost wanted to feel sorry for Ryuken, but he refused to stoop that low. Byakuya stepped forward to the man, putting them nearly nose to nose.

Ryuken wasn’t really but about a centimeter shorter than him, so they were matched off evenly as Byakuya challenged him to a staring contest.

Ryuken accepted the challenge, his eyes unblinking as he pushed a leg between Byakuya's. Instead of kicking upwards, his thigh moved rhythmically and sensually against the Shinigami's flaccid organ. "If you have yourself..." The Quincy purred. voice sensual.

"Then I'd like to see a noble Shinigami such as you bent over my desk. After all... it may make up for the past, don't you think?" One hand caught Byakuya's hip, holding him there and forcing him to endure the torture of Ryuken's thigh. Perhaps... it had been too long since the Quincy had last done such a thing. Maybe, he just craved it. Byakuya was simply there at the wrong time.

“I don’t recall offering to whore myself for your sadistic pleasures.” Byakuya growled. Ah, damn. There was that pleasure…between his legs…His eyes flickered in a momentary lapse of weakness, and a soft, breathy gasp escaped his mouth as he fully hardened.

He was not aroused by the rigid, pompous Quincy. And there was no way in Hell that he was ever going to bend over the desk for that…”Ahhh…. Stop this foolishness.” He breathily demanded. Unbidden, his hands rested on Ryuken’s hips as his own rocked forward. “Damn you…Quincy…” He cursed softly.

"You're merely very responsive, Shinigami." Ryuken glanced over his desk, looking for something to use as a lubricant. After all... entry was always painful without liquid. With a soft, monotonous hum, Ryuken lifted up a bunch of papers, and pulled away a very much used tube of lube. "....Possibly the worst hiding place ever. Don't you think?" He reached forward to undo the Shinigami's smart suit pants, and slid them down his thighs while removing his own leg, well placing it so that Byakuya's followed his movements to stand flush against him.

He one-handedly unscrewed the tube, and caught it with the other hand, pouring some over his fingers and holding the captain still as his wet fingers slid downwards, into the boxers and probing gently, teasingly rubbing over his entrance. "...Tell me. How much do you want it?"

“I don’t want it.” Byakuya whispered. He pushed back into that hand wantonly, and his blue eyes slid shut. Gods, he wanted it so bad. “I don’t bend over…” He gasped. “…For anyone.”

And yet, he felt himself slowly sliding forward across the desk voluntarily, his chest and cheek pressed against the mahogany, covered in papers, pens, and pencils. He groaned out softly and thrust his hips back against the digits, his voice grinding out strained, passionate words.

“Get it over with already…” In actuality, he was powerfully aroused, and he could feel his Reiatsu dancing with the lust in his body.

"Ahh... Then why do you do so for me?" The Quincy purred, slipping a single digit within the Shinigami and caressing his inner walls - so very silk-like in texture, unmarred in every sense. "I've never met a Shinigami so determined to save Seireitei from evil." His digit slid deeper in, and he found the one small spot which he knew the Shinigami would be unable to resist the torture to.

"Perhaps you Shinigami don't mind forced sexual acts, hmm?" He rubbed viciously at that one spot, caressing it for several long moments before slipping another finger in. "...And is it just me, or are you a virgin? You seem awfully tight for someone who isn't."

“I detest Quincy.” Byakuya breathed softly. “I detest you. Your son. Your father. Your son’s mother…” The insults didn’t hold any venom in them. They were breathy. Murmured. Soft. Ok, so yes, he’d never been topped…by anyone. The moment Ryuken found that spot inside of him, he purred out in pleasure and he pressed back, a soft, high whine straining from his throat.

What in the hell…?

His entire body was thrumming with pleasure, and he couldn’t take his mind off the fact that he didn’t know this man and didn’t even like him, and he was still reacting to him like a bitch in heat. The nobleman gripped the edges of the desk and pressed his cheek against the cool wood. “…Ryuken….”

"Ahh... keep moaning like that." Ryuken murmured softly, leaning over Byakuya so that his breath tickled the delicate shell of the captain's ear. "You want last long, being virginal. It's a shame... You feel so nice inside."

To emphasize this, the digits curled and stroked every inch they could reach, merely brushing over Byakuya's prostate simply to annoy the captain. "Like silk..." His hands began to roam elsewhere, exploring the soft skin of the Kuchiki and growling something akin to approval. "Every part of you feels like silk."

Byakuya growled softly, not very happy with the turn of events. “You will…tell me…teach me what I need to know…after this?” He ground out the words, strained with pleasure. Even as his entire demeanor screamed his indignity, he could feel himself screaming in pleasure inside, his erection becoming painfully hard and hot.

“Damn it, Quincy…get on with it!” It would be easier if Ryuken would just taken him without preparation, and then he wouldn’t need to feel the guilt he was feeling now. He was actually enjoying this debauchery! Byakuya’s fingers curled on the edges of the desk, and another, soft, whispering moan escaped his lips.

"Relax." Ryuken purred, pushing his fingers deep and spread the passage wide - if only to see the look on Byakuya's face. "And, to be quite honest... you seem to be in no position to command me." He was quite tempted to force something into the Shinigami's mouth - surely, even muffled, those moans would still be perfect.

The idea occurred to him that he could indeed simply force the Captain to suck him off, but there was no fun in that. "He withdrew his fingers, and then undid his pants, wiping the rest on himself. He gripped Byakuya's feminine hips and bent him to the right angle to force him to pleasure just as he pushed in, ensuring the pleasure to fill the Shinigami's body.

Byakuya had been moaning wantonly as his passage was stretched it its limit. He enjoyed the slight amount of pain that went along with it, and he pushed back on the fingers like a whore. Dammit, why wasn’t he stopping this? All he needed to do was shove the Quincy off and be done with it…Oh.

“Ryuken!” The surprised cry escaped Byakuya’s lips as the man pushed himself deep inside of his lithe body, making pain and a stinging sensation dance up his spine. He made a choked sound of pain and glared over his shoulder at the man. “Was that really necessary?”

"No, not particularly." Stupid fucking Gigai anatomy. That would have worked on any normal person. Stupid fucking Urahara. Oh, well - what was done was done. "Well, then, considering as you have such a short time to do the impossible, this should be quick, shouldn't it?"

The Quincy, without giving Byakuya much time to adjust began a slow rhythm, his hips rolling almost elegantly. Perhaps, he should get hold of a Gigai and do a simple dissection to make sure, for future reference, that the damn things could still be used for sex. The wonderful friction, however, was enough to drive a low moan from his throat, erotic from the many years of experience he had gathered.

Byakuya pushed himself up from the desk a bit, and suddenly something inside of him made him see starts. It was deeper than Ryuken had counted on it seemed, and when Byakuya shifted his body just slightly, Ryuken his prostate head on.

“Ahhhh… What is that…?” Byakuya pushed back, and instead of a soft moan, a sharp, high pitched whine met the air, and he began to meet Ryuken’s thrusts with his hips, wantonly looking for more pleasure.

“You bastard,” He hissed, “I am not your sex toy. I want the knowledge…Ahhhh…. When you’re done with me…” His steel eyes fell shut. Gods, this was good.

"Your body says that I can do whatever I want with it." Ryuken purred out, directly into Byakuya's ear to increase the feel of it. "Your body says that I could fuck it over and over again and it would love every second. Perhaps your mouth is blasphemous."

He couldn't help but smirk, pushing him in deeper, somehow, but not increasing the rhythm simply to annoy the Shinigami. He could achieve release just as easy this way. "And, how it seems... even your mouth is beginning to give up on blasphemy. Perhaps you're just too stubborn for your own good, hmm?" A sharp bite to Byakuya's earlobe was dealt before he spoke again. "Moan... as loudly as you can. Let it all out... scream for me."

Was the man insane? Him? Kuchiki Byakuya, Heir of the Kuchiki clan scream? For a Quincy? Maybe. He arched his back and let out a louder moan, his fingernails digging into the desk painfully and scratching the perfect finish.

It didn’t matter, not right now when the Quincy had himself buried so deep inside of Byakuya’s body, he could feel him in his gut. He bit his lip to keep from screaming, however, still reveling the feel of the man hitting his prostate on each thrust. “As…if…I’d ever scream…for a Quincy…” Byakuya breathily insulted. There was no bite to it. He was moaning each word out like a quiet admission of his pleasure.

"I'll make you scream, Byakuya... whether in pleasure or pain, I don't know, but you seem to be quite the masochist, hmm?" Only Ishida Ryuken could keep his cool this much during sex - and he prided himself on it.

"And to think... I know what you feel, bent over a desk and fucked like this. Two of Seireitei's captains have done so to me... And now you have the pleasure of having to feel my seed fall from your thighs. A day you'll always remember as the day you let a Quincy take your virginity..." He thrust in hard, angling Byakuya's hips to hit his prostate in the dead center. "...For the sake of something that you won't even be able to complete."

Byakuya’s steel eyes opened, and defiance flashed in their depths. “I will save Seireitei! I will not let more die than have already passed. I am tired… Tired of seeing blood spilt for nothing.” He answered the thrusts enthusiastically, the wanton whorishness gone from him.

Instead, this was defiance and fury that answered Ryuken. The bastard had the key to save all of existence, and he demanded something like a man’s virginity to pass on the knowledge. What a fucking bastard. Byakuya’s blue eyes glanced over his shoulder, and while they were misted with pleasure, his lips pursed in a straight line. “Hurry up…” He whispered.

Ryuken smirked, and thrust in harder, slightly faster. Of course, he wouldn't have the Shinigami coming away from all this without having come to orgasm... one of the hands gripping to Byakuya's hips encircled his waist and gently gripped the arousal there, caressing the flesh slowly but in time with his thrusts. "If you won't scream... the least you can do is come for me."

Byakuya did come, but quietly, and there wasn’t much pleasure to be had in it. It was functional for him, almost. The thoughts of reality settled on his shoulders, and a soft cry escaped his lips as he poured himself out on the Quincy’s desk and Ryuken’s hand, not from pleasure, but maybe from frustration and a little bit of fear.

It was a lot to carry… even for the Heir of the Kuchiki clan. He whispered quiet words of disgust to himself, and he quietly laid his cheek on the desk and waited for the Quincy to finish. He hoped he’d learn the technique quickly.

Ryuken found that orgasm was probably as dissatisfactory as when he was with a woman. He made a soft groaning noise as he reached the brink, and a soft twitch of his hips and the blossoming heat within Byakuya the only signs of his release.

After a few moments of almost puzzlement, he pulled away and wiped the lubricant away from his organ before standing Byakuya up and quirking a brow before squeezing none-too-softly on his stomach, forcing his release out. He wiped that away in turn, with the accuracy that he should have, and disposed of the tissue. He handed another to Byakuya, and leant against his desk with a calculated smile.

"Now then. When do you want the training to begin?"

~*~*~*~

Byakuya’s fingers dripped blood. The skin of his wrist burned where he was harnessing his Reiatsu with difficulty with the tiny charm given to him by Ryuken. He groaned as he pulled another arrow back, but it fizzled all the same, and he growled in annoyance. “How long did it take you to Master this bow?” He snapped.

The bow reformed on his hand, a pink color instead of the blazing blue of the Quincy, and he pulled back another arrow, wincing as the string cut into his fingers much more. This time, the arrow flew about three feet before dissipating, making something akin to happiness shine in Byakuya’s eyes before he quickly hid it. It had taken him three hours what took most Quincy many years to accomplish. Maybe he wasn’t hopeless after all.

"Two months of my time during summer. Nothing but training." Why did he agree to teaching this to the Shinigami? It made him want to laugh, however, that the great Kuchiki had a bow the color of a little girl's bedroom, but that wasn't for now.

The Quincy stepped forward, and quirked a brow at the blood dripping into the river beneath him, and then sighed, pulling Byakuya to one side and pulling out a roll of bandage, tying it slowly around the Kuchiki's soft hands to cover up the damage he had done to them.

"Doesn't it occur to you to wear gloves that actually cover your fingers? Then you don't bleed as much." The Quincy held out his hand, palm up, to show the white lines of scars along where he held his bow. "They last. Scars of Reiatsu never fade."

Byakuya drew his hand slowly away from Ryuken, his steeled eyes averted from the Quincy’s face. He’d accepted the Quincy as his sensei mere hours ago, and already, he felt like a ridiculous dog, wallowing at the feet of its master. He shook his head absently at the mention of thicker gloves that covered his fingers as well.

“Senbonzakura is heavy, and I cannot risk losing my grip on her.” He explained quietly, giving the Quincy a little bit of information on his Zanpaktou just as the man was teaching him to wield a bow. He looked into Ryuken’s eyes, and his lips pursed. “Just how the hell am I supposed to harness this enough for one full arrow?” He demanded.

Out of frustration, he raised his hand, and the bow formed, and in a fury, he drew back the string, and was shocked when he let go an arrow into a hillside. He looked back at Ryuken. “Do I pass Day One?” He asked.

"Hn." Ryuken sighed, and then shrugged. "I'm only training you because you've asked me to train you. I have better things to do with my time that watch you get annoyed with Reiatsu you can barely control. If anger is what you need to create a bow... then in my personal opinion, keep on going until you collapse or you're close to no Reiatsu. And that is how you should live your days of training. Strong Shinigami such as yourself should be able to regain all Reiatsu after only 5 hours sleep. Or... is it that you aren't strong at all? That you can't even fight hand-to-hand combat?" There was a short pause, and a self-satisfied smirk spread over Ryuken's face as he aimed a rough, Reiatsu-filled punched to Byakuya's chest.

Byakuya caught the punch in his hand, his steel gray eyes flashing. “That was not part of the deal.” His delicate fingers closed over Ryuken’s hand and squeezed harshly before he pushed the man back with a grunt. “My hand to hand combat skills are adequate.” He turned his back on Ryuken and began to walk away with his easy sway, his hips moving underneath the Shinigami robes alluringly.

There was always some kind of satisfaction he felt in pissing off the older Quincy, and he could have smirked to himself if he’d found a use for it. Instead, he contented himself with a slow, aimed walk that took him deeper into the trees, away from the stream and away from Ryuken. The Quincy would follow him. Byakuya was sure of it.

Ryuken shrugged, pulling a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, and a lighter from the other, lighting up one of the 'cancer sticks' and taking a deep inhalation of the smoke. "Adequate my ass." He snorted, watching Byakuya move deeper and deeper into the trees. When he could no longer see the Shinigami, he followed with long, slow strides that kept him just out of sight and sound from the Captain.

The slow sway of the feminine hips was really quite alluring... alluring enough to fuck him again? Perhaps, perhaps not. But, of course, after a moments debate, he decided his first option was that bit more appealing to him. It was at that point that he dropped his cigarette from his mouth and gently stamped it out into the slightly-damp grass beneath his feet. It was then that he decided to strike, pushing the Shinigami against the closet tree and gently purring into his ear, "But you seem to be a bit slow today."

Byakuya wasn’t quite as amused as Ryuken seemed to be, and with a delicate, swift movement, he’d dislodged himself from between the tree and the Quincy, standing to his full height, his steel gray eyes looking down on Ryuken haughtily. “I won’t debase myself again.” He growled.

The charm on his wrist glowed, and the beautiful, rose colored bow appeared and he held it up and drew back a shining arrow. He released it and it hit the tree behind Ryuken, mere millimeters from his head. “I’m not a fledgling you can push around, Ishida Ryuken. I am Kuchiki Byakuya.” Actually, it was a stroke of pure luck that the arrow struck so closely. He’d meant it to miss the tree completely, but he was just as happy with the results. He was getting better.

"You're a fledgling Quincy. As far as I know, I am your senior. I can stop your training... I can completely seal your powers as both a Shinigami and Quincy." Ryuken couldn't help but smirk, batting away the bow with his hand. "You can't even aim correctly. Like this." His own bow appeared, and he pulled back the arrow provided for him.

"You concentrate. If you do so hard enough, if you're determined enough, you can see the original notch for the arrow..." The arrow was released, and it drove a hole through the tree that Byakuya had only created a dent in. "When you can strike a tree like that with perfect aim, you can consider yourself less than half a Quincy."

The gaze of concentration settled into his eyes again, and he drew back the string, and let go another arrow, wincing as more blood trickled from his fingers. The arrow went home into a tree he’d aimed for, and it drive a hole halfway through the thick trunk before dissipating.

“How long…Do Quincy train to learn what I’ve learned in a day?” Byakuya panted softly. His Reiatsu was ebbing. He was losing control of it, and he knew that if he pushed himself any further, he’d be as useless as a kitten with no claws. He raised the bow again and drew back an arrow, and pouring himself into it, he released and watched in triumph as it felled a tree and made a resounding crash in the forest.

And then, something struck him.

He was kind of hoping the Quincy would be proud of him.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Ryuken saw the flash of hope in Byakuya's eyes, and he almost collapsed laughing. But, of course, it wouldn't do to get the Shinigami annoyed yet more with him. "Quincy train for years. All of their spare time, every day... but towards learning every technique they can before they can't do so any more. Because you are a Shinigami rather than a Quincy, I'm not going to teach you how to use any technique other than this."

A glance, and then a smirk. "Unless you're willing to sacrifice yet more for more force to your attacks. It will take another three days of training, to a minimum. If you could complete it... then perhaps you are more than I first thought you to be."

More? Byakuya’s bow dissipated, and he gazed at Ryuken evenly before his hands fell listlessly at his sides, and his grey eyes dimmed. He turned his back on Ryuken, and slowly he pulled his scarf from his neck, holding it delicately in his hand before looking over his shoulder.

“More, Quincy? I was under the impression that debasing me once was enough.” He turned back to face Ryuken and sighed. “Here in the forest?” He asked quietly. “Will that guarantee the next phase of my training?” His delicate hands rested on the knot of his obi, and he slowly untied it, sliding the haori and yakuta off of his slender, sculpted shoulders. Well, if he wanted more, he’d get it.

Ryuken watched as Byakuya slid the garments off his perfect shoulders, and in a close-to-never occasion, he pressed his lips to the first scar exposed to him, gently trailing downwards until his lips rested at Byakuya's lower back. It was then that he stood up, shedding himself of first his suit jacket, and then his tie, pulling his garments off with unrushed ease.

He stood just behind Byakuya, dressed only from the waist down. His hands roamed daringly into the Shinigami's hakama, caressing the half-hard flesh as he gently whispered into his ear: "You did well today. I didn't expect as much."

The mix of annoyance and happiness that pooled inside of Byakuya’s gut made the man wince almost at the touch. All that from a compliment. Then, there was pleasure. His hips despairingly arched up into the wonderful feeling of Ryuken’s hand wrapped around his sex, and a deep throaty moan escaped his lips.

He refused to moan Ryuken’s name like a wanton whore, but the fact was, he’d now seen what the Quincy was like in action, his bow pulled back, and his entire graceful body taut and beautiful, and Byakuya found it sensual and arousing. His hands strayed back and gripped at Ryuken’s hips behind him, seeking out support as the pleasure started to warm through his body slowly.

Ryuken closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Byakuya's skin heating with arousal beneath his touch, the sturdy grip to his hips adding to the almost sensual feel of this encounter. But... it wasn't sensual at all. He wasn't going to fall in love with a Shinigami, not again.

No... This wouldn't last long enough for that. It wouldn't hurt to make Byakuya feel it this time, however. He pressed another soft kiss to Byakuya's neck, his hand still caressing the hardened member while the other explored the Captain's chest, gently rubbing his nipples to hardness before pressing them to Byakuya's lips, wiping saliva from them easily, and continuing his ministrations with slightly damper fingertips.

The small buds of Byakuya’s nipples hardened and darkened underneath the ministrations, and a strangled, soft groan escaped the nobleman’s throat in a frustrated expression f his arousal. His hips thrust up again, and his fingers tightened, and then his hands fisted in the silk trousers of the man behind him.

What in the hell?

Who taught a Quincy such things?

Byakuya panted softly and thrust up again, his steel grey eyes opening to look into the sky. He finally spoke, his deep, silken voice only adding to the thick sexual tension that was plaguing them both. “Just…get it over with…” He panted softly. As if to punctuate his desires, he thrust his hips back and enjoyed the feeling of Ryuken’s hard arousal pressed into him. He rubbed back against it steadily, demanding relief…and an ending to this situation.

"You're enjoying it so much." Ryuken speculated, his caresses lessening. "But if you really want me to, then I will." His hands withdrew, and he seemed to as well, but he came back after just a few moments of thought, pushing Byakuya closer to the tree in front of them.

After all, the Shinigami would doubtlessly kill him if he ended up buckling. He dropped to his knees behind the Shinigami, pulling the hakama down slowly, almost teasingly, before he found the entrance he was looking for. Instead of a probing finger, however, Byakuya found that it was a slick muscle beginning an exploration of his inner walls - after all, Ryuken had highly doubted he'd need to bring the tube of lubricant with him.

Byakuya’s fingers splintered the bark.

His teeth grit.

And he moaned out Ryuken’s name.

His hips thrust back into that inviting tongue, shivers wracking his entire body as pleasure poured through him. He’d never felt anything like this before. It was painfully hot and sexual, and at the same time, he was disgusted and repulsed that a man…would have his tongue there on his body.

“Ahhh…..Nnnnghhh…” The soft groans were starting to fall from his lips easily now, and each thrust of that devilish tongue was making him harder and harder, his delicate length hanging below his belly, glistening with the proof of his arousal. Byakuya’s right hand left the tree, and his long lithe fingers wrapped around his sex, and he whispered something dirty and completely inappropriate for a nobleman.

”Do it…fuck me…”

Ryuken felt his own body shiver at the soft groans that fell so easily from Byakuya's lips, and that inappropriate speech was just that much more arousing that instead of prolonging it as he had first intended, he stood, opening his pants and spitting into his palm, coating his erection in the thin fluid and frowning slightly.

"It will hurt... more than the first time." Fuck, what was happening to him? He didn't warn people like that. Never. He frowned, but he lost that as he positioned himself at the wonderfully tight entrance. A well-placed thrust backwards from Byakuya buried the head within, and he hissed gently, pushing in further until he was seated completely. It felt tighter, perhaps too much so.

"Relax."

Byakuya was beside himself. Relax? Ha. Laughable. The pain was excruciating, and still, pleasure rolled through him, not just because of the spot that Ryuken was brushing against, but from the pain itself. A startling discovery for Byakuya at that moment was he didn’t just tolerate the pain…or like it… he loved the pain.

He shoved back roughly, hoping he got the point across and he cried out in pain at the same time, feeling himself stretched abruptly and harshly. He moaned Ryuken’s name again, rather whorishly, and the nobleman, who’d been shoved to the back of his mind, was somewhere making mean comments to him about his choice of sexual partner. And Byakuya didn’t give a shit. “MOVE.” He groaned loudly.

"Shush." Ryuken did find some appeal in this new character - it seemed that Byakuya was a pissy little cat when it came to sex. He'd have to remember that. Although, he obeyed the Captain's demand, his pace slow and just as demanding in the slight rough emphasis on each thrust.

"Who knew..." He breathed, tugging on Byakuya's ear with his teeth. "...That you were into pain..." It wasn't surprising, however - perhaps Byakuya's indestructibility lead to these kinks. Perhaps he felt so empty without the feelings of utter rapture. "...Byakuya."

He said the name with a hint of a moan behind it, the tone seductive. The friction, the tight passage... it was wonderful, all of it.

Byakuya’s soft moans were turning to outright cries into the forest, making the birds flutter and scatter in the trees as his fingers split the wood of the tree he’d been shoved against. Ryuken was inside of him, moving deeper and deeper, hitting that spot inside of him, and making him nearly howl with the sheer pleasure of the pain filled ecstasy that poured through his hot veins.

“Ryuken…” The name slipped from his mouth unbidden and unwanted. He didn’t want this. He hated it. But he loved it so damn much. “Harder…” he moaned, “Deeper!”

He shoved back against the hips that were thrusting into him, and with a high, quiet whine, Byakuya did something that he swore he’d never do with anyone, much less with a bastard Quincy. “Ryuken, please help…to…” He couldn’t say it. He was too proud, but he wanted to come so badly!

The Quincy was very much pleased with himself, that he'd gotten the great Kuchiki heir to beg to come. Who would have thought he'd ever top a Shinigami, after so many years of being in Byakuya’s position. Immortal fuckers with incurable libidos, that’s all they were. Until, of course, it came down to the last true-lined Kuchiki.

His hips moved as Byakuya begged, slowing but becoming more focused, almost as if he were showing off the muscle he’d accumulated from years of endless training, from pre-adolescence until even now. “Say it.” He growled, his bow-calloused hands running down Byakuya’s stomach and teasing the weeping slit of his erection.

“Say you want to come.” His fingers ran down further; teasing the Shinigami’s stretched opening and slipping another two fingers inside him, spreading them in a rather cruel fashion. “And maybe I’ll let you, Kuchiki.”

Byakuya felt the pride well up in him… It was always there in the background of his mind, waiting to be released with a simple order from someone he didn’t respect. He felt it surface, and just as the retort was going to come off of his lips, he gasped in pain and pleasure as he was stretched painfully.

With the combination of Ryuken’s hot sex inside of him and the fingers touching him, he didn’t even have the time to beg for it before he spilled himself, a high pitched, whispering cry coming from his lips in the form of the Quincy’s name. His seed splashed hotly over the Quincy’s fingers, and with each surge of his release, he moaned and cried out, fingers splintering the bark and even breaking his skin.

He found himself suddenly realizing he admired the Quincy for his talent and for his bow, and he enjoyed the way his weapon callused fingers brushed over his body.

“Ryuken…”

He breathed the man’s name. Moaned it.

“Have I paid you enough?”

OWARI