Fear

Title: Fear
Author: Ansela Jonla
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: 18
Characters: Byakuya/Kenpachi, Unohana
Warnings: none
Summary: Zaraki doesn’t know fear.
Word count: 1176
Notes: I asked Del for a prompt, she gave me “Fear”, I produced this.

This was ridiculous. He was the Eleventh Division Captain, the biggest and toughest brawler in a whole bunch of big, tough brawlers (with one small brawler thrown in for good measure, but he was even tougher than most of them, as if all the toughness of a big man had been squeezed and squashed into the shape of a small, pretty man who’d break your teeth if you dared suggest he wasn’t as tough as the rest). He could walk out into the middle of his Division with pink ribbons in his hair (it had happened; someone had given them to Yachiru - the other exception to his Division’s standard thuggish type - as a present, and she’d decided that they’d look wonderful on him) and no one would dare say a thing, or even snigger behind his back when they thought he wasn’t looking. Sure, Madarame would mention them if he wanted a fight, but that bald (no matter how he tried to deny it) thug was the only one who would draw attention to it. Zaraki Kenpachi Did Not Know Fear (anything to do with Unohana excepted, of course. That woman was beyond scary.)

Sitting at Byakuya’s bedside, Zaraki felt more fear than he ever had when faced with an irritated (never angry, he knew better than to push that far) Unohana. His lover lay unnaturally still on sheets that were stained red with the blood and pus that leaked from wounds that refused to close. Machines and tubes and wires assisted his weak breathing and pushed blood into his veins to replace that which Byakuya was losing, and Zaraki perched uncomfortably among them, hoping that Unohana and her medics could find a counter to the poison before it was too late. Medics bustled around like a flock of white hens, constantly checking and moving things, but Zaraki ignored them, except to growl half-heartedly when one of them forced him to move out of the way.

Zaraki half-wished that Byakuya hadn’t managed to finish off the Hollow that had poisoned him. At least then he’d have something to kill. (A small part of him - a part that sounded dangerously like Yumichika, who was going to get a kick in the teeth next time Zaraki saw him - whispered that if he’d had something to go get revenge on, he would probably be lying in the next bed, increasing Fourth’s workload and reducing both their chances of survival. Zaraki ignored that small voice - it made too much sense for him to want to listen to it right then.) At least then he wouldn’t have to sit in a sterile room in the Fourth and watch helplessly as his lover’s life soaked into the sheets. At least then he wouldn’t feel this cold fear gripping at his heart and squeezing his chest until it felt too small for his lungs.

They’d been laughing and joking over a picnic dinner, sprawled on a blanket set on the grass in a tangle of limbs. It was rare they managed to get a whole day together, and they were going to make the most of it. They’d both left their uniforms in their quarters, and Byakuya had abandoned his kenseikan and scarf and Zaraki’s hair lay down his back, for once not styled into bell-tipped spikes, but they both still wore their zanpakutou. Wanting to be nothing more than two lovers spending the day together was one thing, going unarmed was something completely different; to them it was like the difference between a fancy formal kimono and going stark naked.

Right then though, their zanpakutou lay to one side, tangled with their discarded obi, their yukata lying on the grass even further away. Byakuya straddled Zaraki’s thighs, one hand feeding him blackberries while the other gently stroked Zaraki’s cock. Zaraki’s hands roamed over Byakuya’s back, tracing scars and exploring skin that he knew as well as his own after decades of association. Occasionally one of them would lean in and steal a quick kiss, soft and fleeting, a gentle demand to keep going as they were. They didn’t need to hurry, they had all day, all weekend.

They ran out of berries and Zaraki flipped Byakuya over, smiling as he loomed over the nobleman who lay spread out on the blanket. With gentle fingers, Zaraki tugged at Byakuya’s fundoshi - his own had been discarded long ago - completely exposing Byakuya’s half-hard cock. Zaraki carefully wrapped his hand around both their lengths and began to slowly thrust against his lover-

And then the Hollow screamed. And again. Multiple cries rent the air, and the two Captains rolled away from each other as the sky split overhead. There was no time to dress, only time to grab their zanpakutou as the horde descended upon them. Time lost all meaning as they fought, minor cuts and bruises ignored until at last only a handful were left facing Zaraki, as Byakuya fought against one.

Zaraki hadn’t thought about it - he’d dived straight into the middle of the ones facing him, blade swinging toward a white mask. And when he’d finished and he’d turned to face Byakuya triumphantly, and seen the Hollow’s fangs sink deep into his lover just as its mask was cleaved in two and it disintegrated into a million points of light-

Zaraki woke with a start, barely stopping his instinctive swing of the fist before it hit Unohana’s face. There was a reason why Yachiru was usually the only one who dared wake him. He grumbled as he settled back down on the chair by Byakuya’s bedside, berating himself for falling asleep, complaining about the medic Captain’s blank expression that gave nothing away, be it good news or bad, muttering dire threats toward the person or, as was more likely, persons who’d dared move him to the small cot away from his lover’s side. He noticed there were less machines and tubes this time, and the sheets were now white, as were the bandages now wrapped around his chest. He looked questioningly at Unohana.

“He will live. We managed to neutralise the venom and stop the bleeding.” Unohana noted something down on the medical chart that hung on the end of Byakuya’s bed. “He still needs time to recover from the blood loss, but we managed to repair the damage to his internal organs and bones.” Unohana paused in the doorway as she left. “He knew you were there the whole time. He woke earlier, and the first thing he did was look for you.”

With that, Unohana left. Zaraki settled down into the chair, reaching out one hand to gently sweep Byakuya’s hair from his face. “You knew, huh? Bet ya found it funny, seein’ me so scared. That’s what ya do ta me, Byakuya. Ya can even make me feel fear. An’ ya know what.” Zaraki leaned down so he was whispering in Byakuya’s ear. “I don’t care, because I love ya.”