Apology
folder
Bleach › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,364
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Bleach › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,364
Reviews:
3
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.
Apology
Apology
by Charis
Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite. I just borrow his characters to torment them.
Notes: For round 2 of the Bleach Kink Meme. Anonymouse wanted Shunsui / Nanao hurt / comfort fic. This one had less hurt than my first couple drafts, but at least it had some smut.
He means it as an apology -- no matter that he's not the one who put the marks on her skin, marred that pale perfection with burns and bruising, because in a way he did. If he'd been a little faster and not missed that last Hollow, it wouldn't have gotten its claws on her, and she wouldn't be like this, shaking with reaction and the aftermath of that last tremendous kidou blast. Her reiatsu trembles as well, shredded from backlash, and when he stretches his own towards it, the shaking intensifies.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice tells him that touching her is probably the stupidest thing at a time like this. He knows what those telltale flinches mean, no matter that she'll deny what happened if he ever asks her (and so he won't; she'll tell him if -- when -- she decides to). But he wants desperately to reassure her, and for all his blandishments, he's never been very good with words. He tries all the same, murmurs reassurances, calls her his brave Nanao-chan, and his heart twists all the more when she doesn't snap at him for using the diminutive. Words do nothing, though, and not knowing what else to do, he slides his arms around her, presses his lips to her hair.
She gives a convulsive shudder, pushes at his chest in an attempt to put some space between them. It is not fear, he realises, quite as much as it is disgust, self-focussed. "Don't touch me," she protests. "I'm filthy." He knows it's not just the blood and sweat and grime she's talking about.
Shunsui doesn't know what to say to that. So instead, he kisses her.
Yeah, the voice says. Stupidest thing ever.
Only it isn't, or maybe the kiss says what he can't (and it's trite, yes, but he's made an art of the cliche), because she stops shoving at his chest. Her reiatsu stops trying to pull away from his as her fingers curl into the folds of his pink haori, and some of the wire-taut tension flees her.
"Taichou," she says, when he stops to breathe. It's something like a moan and something like a sob, and a little bit relieved, and rather than answering, he kisses her again.
She's the one who touches skin first -- well, really touches, because his fingers have been tracing her face when they aren't running through her hair, tumbled down after she lost her clip somewhere in the fight -- and it makes him think that maybe, just maybe, everything can be alright again. Her hands are small and flutter with nervousness, but it is still his lovely Nanao-chan touching him, and his body reacts accordingly. At first, he tries to hide his response, afraid he will only terrify her, but she grows bolder when an involuntary hiss escapes him (a single pen-callused finger moving across a nipple, sending fire shooting straight to his groin), and he gives up the effort, lets her see just what effect she has on him -- lets her see her power.
Bolder still, her hands dip lower. Shunsui cries out despite himself, a sound like her name, and rocks his hips up involuntarily. He's wanted this for so long.
But it's for her, has to be for her, this first time (and oh, let there be other times!), and so he moves, hands and lips and mouth sliding from her face. Her skin is soft. He wonders what she will taste like without all of this on her -- fresh from her bath, perhaps, and that thought brings others which only make him harder. He muffles a groan against her breast.
"Taichou --" she says again, and this time it's definitely a moan, and when she repeats the title, it falls into incoherent syllables halfway through, when he finds the heat between her thighs. He is careful, gentle, not wanting to hurt her, but she moves insistently, head thrashing from side to side as his fingers explore her, and he gives her what she needs, more pressure, a harder touch --
"More," she gasps, tugging on his obi, and even like this, her fingers are still quick and clever, working at the knots. There's a demand in her voice, and a certainty, "More."
"Nanao-chan," he gets out, but he's not sure what he's going to say, and all thoughts -- and speech itself -- are quickly gone as she frees him. He can't but whimper as her fingers close, tug insistently, and as he gives in and moves up and over and into her, his cries join hers.
Later, when he can think again and his heart is no longer thundering in his ears, he takes her left hand in both of his, brings it to his lips. The skin there is the worst, the bruises from the creature's grip almost invisible beneath the burned skin, but he kisses it without hesitation, careful only not to hurt her further. "My wonderful, brave Nanao-chan."
He can feel her reiatsu thrum with delight.
- finis -
by Charis
Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite. I just borrow his characters to torment them.
Notes: For round 2 of the Bleach Kink Meme. Anonymouse wanted Shunsui / Nanao hurt / comfort fic. This one had less hurt than my first couple drafts, but at least it had some smut.
He means it as an apology -- no matter that he's not the one who put the marks on her skin, marred that pale perfection with burns and bruising, because in a way he did. If he'd been a little faster and not missed that last Hollow, it wouldn't have gotten its claws on her, and she wouldn't be like this, shaking with reaction and the aftermath of that last tremendous kidou blast. Her reiatsu trembles as well, shredded from backlash, and when he stretches his own towards it, the shaking intensifies.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice tells him that touching her is probably the stupidest thing at a time like this. He knows what those telltale flinches mean, no matter that she'll deny what happened if he ever asks her (and so he won't; she'll tell him if -- when -- she decides to). But he wants desperately to reassure her, and for all his blandishments, he's never been very good with words. He tries all the same, murmurs reassurances, calls her his brave Nanao-chan, and his heart twists all the more when she doesn't snap at him for using the diminutive. Words do nothing, though, and not knowing what else to do, he slides his arms around her, presses his lips to her hair.
She gives a convulsive shudder, pushes at his chest in an attempt to put some space between them. It is not fear, he realises, quite as much as it is disgust, self-focussed. "Don't touch me," she protests. "I'm filthy." He knows it's not just the blood and sweat and grime she's talking about.
Shunsui doesn't know what to say to that. So instead, he kisses her.
Yeah, the voice says. Stupidest thing ever.
Only it isn't, or maybe the kiss says what he can't (and it's trite, yes, but he's made an art of the cliche), because she stops shoving at his chest. Her reiatsu stops trying to pull away from his as her fingers curl into the folds of his pink haori, and some of the wire-taut tension flees her.
"Taichou," she says, when he stops to breathe. It's something like a moan and something like a sob, and a little bit relieved, and rather than answering, he kisses her again.
She's the one who touches skin first -- well, really touches, because his fingers have been tracing her face when they aren't running through her hair, tumbled down after she lost her clip somewhere in the fight -- and it makes him think that maybe, just maybe, everything can be alright again. Her hands are small and flutter with nervousness, but it is still his lovely Nanao-chan touching him, and his body reacts accordingly. At first, he tries to hide his response, afraid he will only terrify her, but she grows bolder when an involuntary hiss escapes him (a single pen-callused finger moving across a nipple, sending fire shooting straight to his groin), and he gives up the effort, lets her see just what effect she has on him -- lets her see her power.
Bolder still, her hands dip lower. Shunsui cries out despite himself, a sound like her name, and rocks his hips up involuntarily. He's wanted this for so long.
But it's for her, has to be for her, this first time (and oh, let there be other times!), and so he moves, hands and lips and mouth sliding from her face. Her skin is soft. He wonders what she will taste like without all of this on her -- fresh from her bath, perhaps, and that thought brings others which only make him harder. He muffles a groan against her breast.
"Taichou --" she says again, and this time it's definitely a moan, and when she repeats the title, it falls into incoherent syllables halfway through, when he finds the heat between her thighs. He is careful, gentle, not wanting to hurt her, but she moves insistently, head thrashing from side to side as his fingers explore her, and he gives her what she needs, more pressure, a harder touch --
"More," she gasps, tugging on his obi, and even like this, her fingers are still quick and clever, working at the knots. There's a demand in her voice, and a certainty, "More."
"Nanao-chan," he gets out, but he's not sure what he's going to say, and all thoughts -- and speech itself -- are quickly gone as she frees him. He can't but whimper as her fingers close, tug insistently, and as he gives in and moves up and over and into her, his cries join hers.
Later, when he can think again and his heart is no longer thundering in his ears, he takes her left hand in both of his, brings it to his lips. The skin there is the worst, the bruises from the creature's grip almost invisible beneath the burned skin, but he kisses it without hesitation, careful only not to hurt her further. "My wonderful, brave Nanao-chan."
He can feel her reiatsu thrum with delight.