Bleach - Playing With Fire - Chapter Two
May. 11th, 2011 04:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: Ahoy! Another chapter of my fun, cracky fic!
Title: Playing with Fire
Pairings: ShinjixRenji, UraharaxIchigo, ShinjixUrahara (past)
Rating: M
Warning: afterwar, spoilers, AU-ish, boysmut, kink, foul language, OOC, crack
Description: On a surprise visit, Shinji runs into Renji and finds himself intrigued. A chase ensues.
(One)(Two)
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Chapter Two
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Abarai had opted for a braid. Shinj could hardly contain his glee at the sight, like the redhead was all but begging for Shinji to make use of it. Crimson was an excellent color on the vice-captain. It matched well with the white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and allowing those gorgeous tattoos. Abarai had also chosen a pair of well-fitting jeans that clung to his long legs in all the right places.
If Shinji hadn't had better control of himself, he would have already started drooling.
“So,” Kisuke said, merrily starting conversation now that dinner had been served and they were all arranged around the table, the delicious smells making Shinji's mouth water. “Fill us in on what Soul Society's been up to, Abarai-kun.”
The redhead scowled, looking distinctly uncomfortable where he sat across from Shinji. “It's not like ya don't know already.”
“Well, perhaps I want to hear you say it. My spies don't know everything,” Kisuke drawled.
“Mah, Kisuke, who wants to hear about business?” Shinji interrupted with a sly grin. “We should talk about something much more interesting.”
Ichigo coughed all of a sudden as though he had choked on his bite of rice. There was a rich redness to his face. Shinji wondered if Kisuke had already gotten to him.
“I don't think your idea of interesting is suitable for dinner conversation,” Ichigo said, promptly shoving a portion of rice into his mouth and chewing heartily.
Shinji gasped with mock hurt. “Why, Ichigo,” he said, batting his eyes innocently. “I don't know what you mean.”
Abarai snorted, reaching for his glass of water. “I think I've a pretty good idea,” he said, sharing a pointed look with his friend.
“Now, now, Abarai-kun,” Kisuke said warningly, shaking his finger at the redhead as though he were chastising a small child. “Shinji is my guest. The freeloader shouldn't have anything to say.”
Abarai reddened, though Shinji couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. Either way, Shinji quite enjoyed the way the flush in his cheeks complimented the shade of his hair. Shinji wondered if he'd redden in the same way if he were aroused. Maybe that lovely flush would carry elsewhere.
He couldn't wait to find out.
“Is that an invitation for me to continue, then?” Shinji asked, swallowing down his glee and pretending to behave. At least for the moment.
Kisuke inclined his head, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well, since you're not interested in Shinigami business, then we'll just have to talk about something else.”
“Like what?” Ichigo managed to sound both wary and suspicious.
Abarai, for his part, seemed deathly focused on his meal, every now and again shooting Kisuke annoyed, sulking looks. They were quite cute, Shinji thought. Abarai was way too old to be pouting like that, but still, it was cute.
“How's classes?” Shinji asked, just to cut them all a break. Besides, he could save the really gritty and embarrassing stuff for later. Catch them when they were off guard. There was nothing quite so amusing as watching Ichigo splutter and turn red.
Ichigo grunted. “Boring,” he said, chewing thoughtfully. “But the good kind of boring.”
“Good kind? I didn't know such a thing existed,” Shinji retorted, lifting a brow. “Ya mean ta say ya don't miss fighting off hordes of Hollow every day?”
“Sometimes boring is good,” Kisuke replied, but there was an edge to his voice as he caught Shinji's eye.
Shinji snorted. “Boring is boring.”
“Which is why you're here causing trouble?” Ichigo asked, giving him a pointed look.
Shinji held up his hands, just to prove his innocence. “I've not done anything yet. I was innocently visiting when you two decided to try and take me out.”
“That was an accident,” Abarai reminded him. “'Sides, that was Ichigo's fault.”
“It's not my fault you couldn't watch where you were going!”
“I was following you, bastard!”
They were such good friends. Really.
Kisuke chuckled and glanced at Shinji around the two arguing hotheads who were trading barbs about something that happened two years ago. “So,” he said with a noticeable drag on the single syllable. “Still thinking about sticking around?”
Shinji sat back in his chair, making himself comfortable as he idly brushed a piece of stray rice from his lips. “Oh, I thought I'd hang out for a week or so. You've got the space, don't ya?”
There was a sudden thump of a knee striking the table. “What? A week?” Ichigo demanded, somehow managing to hear their conversation over his heated discussion with Abarai.
Chuckling, Shinji idly examined his perfectly trimmed fingernails. “Why, Ichigo, I'm hurt. One would think you didn't like me visitin'.”
“It's not at the top of my list of enjoyable things, no,” Ichigo gritted out, eyebrow twitching as though he and Byakuya-kun had suddenly traded levels of bitchiness. “Don't you have things you need to be doing or something?”
“No. Why? Am I going to cut into your snuggle time with Ki-chan here?”
Ichigo turned the color of an overripe tomato as Kisuke disappeared behind his fan with an amused chuckle. Abarai, for his part, stuffed his mouth with a bite of rice and tried to pretend he was blind and deaf and not a part of this conversation at all. Poor thing. He had no idea of Shinji's plans, did he?
Shinji leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table, lacing them together. It was time to up the ante. “Have you guys even experimented yet? I know Ki-chan likes handcuffs.”
There was a moment where his words hung in the air with obvious tease, before Abarai started choking on his food and Ichigo looked about two seconds away from leaping across the table to throttle Shinji personally. Kisuke was too amused to be of much help, laughing behind his fan. Ichigo shot him a look and Shinji just knew that Kisuke would be paying for this amusement later.
“And other things as well,” Kisuke said mischievously, winking at Shinji. “But I've nothing on your depravities, Shin-chan.”
Shinji tossed his head flippantly. “I'm merely honest in my wants. Don't tell me you wrap Ichigo here in a plastic bubble. Unless that's your taste, of course.”
Abarai's face turned scarlet. “I need some air,” he said and suddenly rose from the table, fleeing from the room as though his ass were on fire.
Hmm. Now there was an image. Shinji could just imagine how it got that way, too. Bent over the bed, buttocks scarlet, with very obvious handprints on them. Begging and crying for more, flesh a contrast to the dark lines of those tattoos. Amber eyes gleaming with need and defiance, lips reddened and rough...
Was it getting hot in here or was it just him?
“Shinji!”
He blinked out of his daydream and turned an innocent look onto his gracious host. “What?” Shinji asked, batting his eyes.
Kisuke looked amused; Ichigo looked torn between humiliation and anger. “Lost in a daydream, were we?”
The corner of Shinji's lips curled with amusement. “Just a lovely image that I'll keep to myself, thank you very much.”
Ichigo made a sound, a cross between a growl and a noise of disgust. “You two are impossible,” he said, and got up from the table, too. “I'll let the perverts have some time to themselves.”
“Find poor Abarai and make sure he's okay, will you?” Kisuke called after him mischievously.
Ichigo rolled his eyes, waving a hand over his shoulder. “He's fine. This can't be the first time he's had to listen to that sort of thing. His best friend's Hisagi, remember?”
Shinji lifted a brow. “Hisagi? As in, Kensei's fan boy?”
“The one and the same,” Kisuke replied with a grin, fan closing with a loud snap. “Don't let his reaction fool you. Abarai's as twisted as they come.”
“How twisted?” Shinji's creative mind decided to provide several erotic images, all of which made him hot under the collar and his black slacks just a little too tight. Coming to visit Ki-chan in his shoten had turned out to be a good idea after all.
Kisuke rose from his seat, their abandoned meal cooling on the table. “I think I'll let you figure that out for yourself. As for me, I'm going to track down my errant lover.”
“Ya never did answer me, ya know,” Shinji said, planting his chin on his knuckles as he looked at his former lover. “Have ya managed to introduce Ichigo to the chocolate side of things or what?”
A familiar teasing glint appeared in gray-green eyes. “I don't kiss and tell,” Kisuke said, touching a finger to the brim of his hat. “See you in the morning, Shinji. Good luck.”
“I have skill, which trumps luck in all instances,” Shinji retorted confidently.
Kisuke laughed. “But Abarai is a stubborn creature. Much like Ichigo. And we all know how long it took to woo him.”
Many, many amusing months, if Shinji recalled correctly. He had endured Kisuke's drunken confessions and moans about Ichigo's general lack of comprehension. It had taken months for Ichigo to realize that his former master was panting after him, and then even longer for him to understand that it wasn't just lust. Now they were a couple of love-sick idiots and Shinji couldn't help teasing them. It was too much fun.
“Don't underestimate me, Kisuke. I have no intention of treating Abarai with kiddie gloves like you do Ichigo.” He grinned, knowing it resembled the toothy grin of a shark. “In fact, I'm pretty sure he'd like rougher handling than that.”
Kisuke rolled his eyes and waved a flippant hand over his shoulder. “Like I said, good luck with that. Something tells me I'll be the one to have the last laugh, though.”
He was gone before Shinji could form a proper retort. Not that he needed to. Future events would prove his own boasts after all.
In a good mood, Shinji proceeded to dive into the dinner Tessai-san had carefully prepared for them. It would be a shame to let it go to waste. Besides, he'd need to keep up his energy, wouldn't he?
o0o0o
It was a little chilly outside, but Renji didn't mind. In fact, he welcomed the cold. It helped combat the heat in his cheeks and the flush of... well, he couldn't call it embarrassment or anger since it wasn't either. He wasn't sure what to name it. Hell, it wasn't like this was the first time anyone'd talked sex around him.
Just... generally it was people he knew on a closer basis rather than the strangers he and Hirako were. Besides, Ichigo was pretty damn embarrassed enough for the both of them. Poor kid. Well, that was what he got for hooking up with a pervert like Urahara-san. Renji'd bet a month's wages that they probably did have a box of toys or some such in the closet. He wouldn't put it past Urahara-san.
Either way, Renji had only sought a breath of fresh air because Hirako's openly lustful looks were getting more and more obvious and Renji couldn't decide if he were embarrassed or aroused by them. The man was hot, Renji had to give him that, but there was a dangerous glint to his eyes, too. 'Sides, Renji hadn't come here to start some torrid love affair with a Vizard.
He paused, brow crinkling.
Why had he come here, again? To spar a bit with Ichigo, yeah. To escape from Soul Society? Maybe a little. Okay, so there wasn't any real purpose why he was here. It stood to reason that he could indulge if he wanted to.
If being the operative word here.
The wind rose again, damp and chill, reminding Renji that his dress shirt was not nearly as thick as a shihakushou. The skin on his arms prickled and he fought down a shiver. Time to go back inside, consider the rest of his dinner, maybe even raid Urahara-san's kitchens for a bottle of the good stuff that he knew the perverted shopkeeper kept stashing in random cupboards.
Renji turned back toward the porch and the back door, climbed onto the wooden deck and reached for the swinging door. However, before he could so much as push it open, it swung open in front of him, nearly putting him off balance. He stumbled inside, caught himself, and then growled in annoyance, one suspect at the top of his list.
“Not funny, Ichi-- oh. It's you.”
Not Ichigo, in fact, but Hirako Shinji. Grinning at him as though this were an everyday occurrence. As though he were a cat standing in front of a trapped, flightless canary.
“My Abarai-kun, that tone of voice... you'd think I'd done something untoward,” Hirako drawled, his eyes raking Renji from head to toe, making him feel he might as well be naked for all the clothes he's wearing.
Renji attempted to edge around the Vizard and step back into the shoten. “Not yet, but I'll bet you're plannin' to.”
An arm appeared in front of him, stretching across the hall and blocking Renji's path. The door slammed shut, effectively trapping Renji between the door and Hirako. The latter of whom was grinning at Renji.
He chuckled. “Do I look that dangerous?”
Yes. Renji's instincts wanted to scream the answer, but his pride wouldn't let him. Hirako might be able to kick his ass from one end of Karakura to the other, but Renji refused to give in or back down. For a man several inches shorter than Renji, Hirako had a rather intimidating aura.
“Depends on what you mean by danger,” Renji said, because if Hirako was going to openly tease him, then Renji had better give as good as he got, or he'd be in a world of humiliation. 'Sides, it wasn't like it was a trial or anything. Hirako was hot.
The corner of Hirako's mouth curved upward, his eyes glittering with some unnameable desire, and Renji had never been more conscious of their proximity. “I'm not going ta eat ya if that's what yer worried about,” Hirako said.
“The thought never even crossed my mind,” Renji lied easily enough. He could already feel the heat crawling up his neck, threatening to invade his face. This close, Hirako's scent crowded his nose, smelling like thunderstorms and metal and burnt popcorn. No, Renji didn't know why the Vizard smelled like burnt popcorn, but for once it wasn't an unpleasant odor. Just sharp and unforgettable.
“Maybe ya were expectin' somethin' else then,” Hirako said, his voice practically a sultry purr as he leaned closer, brown eyes dark and wicked.
Renji knew he was walking into a trap, but he couldn't stop himself anyway. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was the fact he hadn't gotten laid since Muguruma-san came back to Soul Society and whisked Hisagi-senpai out from under Renji's nose. And it didn't help that Urahara-san and Ichigo tended to flirt where anyone and their brother could see, taunting people with the pretty picture they made together, one meant to be watched but not touched. Or maybe he just really was the idiot everyone says he was.
Either way, he licked he lips and asked, “Like what?” Knowing full well what was probably coming next.
Hirako didn't disappoint either. He laughed all husky like and leaned forward, anticipation making his eyes dark, making Renji's breath catch. “Like this,” Hirako said, and closed the distance between them, sealing their mouths together in a kiss that was all hunger and desire. The sort that made Renji's gut twist with heat and his jeans a little tighter.
His lips parted before he thought twice about it, and Hirako nipped at his lower lip, a sharp prick of teeth, before his tongue invited itself inside and--
Holy shit!
Renji's blood drained south as he was reminded of something he'd forgotten. Namely, Hirako's tongue ring and the way it felt rubbing against Renji's tongue. All smooth metal and hot from his mouth. Renji imagined feeling that ring against his cock and a moan slipped into the kiss before he could stop it.
He heard Hirako chuckle as he deepened the kiss, drawing them together in a warm press of hard bodies. One hand reached up, tangled fingers in the end of Renji's braid, and gave it a slow, steady tug. Nothing harsh and jarring, but just a reminder of what could be done with it later. A slow pull on his scalp that made his breath hitch.
There was a thump as Renji's back hit the wall, not that it put any distance between them. Hirako just followed the motion until Renji was trapped between him and the wall, his thoughts spinning with Hirako's hot metal scent and closeness. His hand rose like it had a mind of its own, hooking an arm around Hirako's waist, pulling them closer together. He could feel Hirako's groin against his thigh, and the hard-on behind thin slacks.
Renji groaned low in his throat, more growl than moan, as Hirako kissed him like he was desperate for it. Tongue claiming in sweeping swipes, teeth nipping at his lips. Tasting like their dinner and something else, something Renji couldn't quite identify. Not bad, but intriguing, like a spice.
“Ahem.”
The sound of someone clearing their throat echoed in the hallway and Renji separated from Hirako like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His pants were way too tight and it felt like a current was running through his body, encouraging him to grab Hirako and finish what the teasing blond had started.
Except that now they had an audience, one that looked far too amused for his own good.
“Normally, I'd hate to interrupt such a pretty picture,” Urahara-san said, eyebrows lifted at both Renji and Hirako. “But there are young eyes in this house, so I'd appreciate it if you'd save the removal of clothes for the privacy of a bedroom, yes?”
Renji just knew that his face was a serious shade of scarlet. “Sorry, Urahara-san,” he said, and slipped out from between Hirako and the wall, feeling a bit like a mangy mutt slinking off with its tail between its legs. “I'll keep that in mind.”
“You do that,” Urahara-san replied, his tone full of humor and smugness. His eyes were concealed by the shadow of his hat, but Renji could still feel their intent stare between his shoulder blades as he hurried down the hall toward the room that had been made his own during his frequent visits.
Behind him, he heard Urahara-san start in on Hirako. “And as for you, Shinji. I thought you knew better.”
“Could ya blame me?” Hirako retorted, and that was the last Renji heard before he dove into his bedroom, closed the door and leaned against it, heart thumping a crazy rhythm in his chest.
He was still hard. And when he swiped his tongue over his lips, he swore he could taste Hirako. Could still feel the titillating sensation of that ring pressing against his sensitive tongue.
Renji groaned, knocking his head back against the wood. Man, he was so fucked.
* * * *
a/n: There is plenty more fun and teasing (and smut) to come! Stay tuned!
And as always, feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Title: Playing with Fire
Pairings: ShinjixRenji, UraharaxIchigo, ShinjixUrahara (past)
Rating: M
Warning: afterwar, spoilers, AU-ish, boysmut, kink, foul language, OOC, crack
Description: On a surprise visit, Shinji runs into Renji and finds himself intrigued. A chase ensues.
(One)(Two)
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Chapter Two
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Abarai had opted for a braid. Shinj could hardly contain his glee at the sight, like the redhead was all but begging for Shinji to make use of it. Crimson was an excellent color on the vice-captain. It matched well with the white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and allowing those gorgeous tattoos. Abarai had also chosen a pair of well-fitting jeans that clung to his long legs in all the right places.
If Shinji hadn't had better control of himself, he would have already started drooling.
“So,” Kisuke said, merrily starting conversation now that dinner had been served and they were all arranged around the table, the delicious smells making Shinji's mouth water. “Fill us in on what Soul Society's been up to, Abarai-kun.”
The redhead scowled, looking distinctly uncomfortable where he sat across from Shinji. “It's not like ya don't know already.”
“Well, perhaps I want to hear you say it. My spies don't know everything,” Kisuke drawled.
“Mah, Kisuke, who wants to hear about business?” Shinji interrupted with a sly grin. “We should talk about something much more interesting.”
Ichigo coughed all of a sudden as though he had choked on his bite of rice. There was a rich redness to his face. Shinji wondered if Kisuke had already gotten to him.
“I don't think your idea of interesting is suitable for dinner conversation,” Ichigo said, promptly shoving a portion of rice into his mouth and chewing heartily.
Shinji gasped with mock hurt. “Why, Ichigo,” he said, batting his eyes innocently. “I don't know what you mean.”
Abarai snorted, reaching for his glass of water. “I think I've a pretty good idea,” he said, sharing a pointed look with his friend.
“Now, now, Abarai-kun,” Kisuke said warningly, shaking his finger at the redhead as though he were chastising a small child. “Shinji is my guest. The freeloader shouldn't have anything to say.”
Abarai reddened, though Shinji couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. Either way, Shinji quite enjoyed the way the flush in his cheeks complimented the shade of his hair. Shinji wondered if he'd redden in the same way if he were aroused. Maybe that lovely flush would carry elsewhere.
He couldn't wait to find out.
“Is that an invitation for me to continue, then?” Shinji asked, swallowing down his glee and pretending to behave. At least for the moment.
Kisuke inclined his head, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well, since you're not interested in Shinigami business, then we'll just have to talk about something else.”
“Like what?” Ichigo managed to sound both wary and suspicious.
Abarai, for his part, seemed deathly focused on his meal, every now and again shooting Kisuke annoyed, sulking looks. They were quite cute, Shinji thought. Abarai was way too old to be pouting like that, but still, it was cute.
“How's classes?” Shinji asked, just to cut them all a break. Besides, he could save the really gritty and embarrassing stuff for later. Catch them when they were off guard. There was nothing quite so amusing as watching Ichigo splutter and turn red.
Ichigo grunted. “Boring,” he said, chewing thoughtfully. “But the good kind of boring.”
“Good kind? I didn't know such a thing existed,” Shinji retorted, lifting a brow. “Ya mean ta say ya don't miss fighting off hordes of Hollow every day?”
“Sometimes boring is good,” Kisuke replied, but there was an edge to his voice as he caught Shinji's eye.
Shinji snorted. “Boring is boring.”
“Which is why you're here causing trouble?” Ichigo asked, giving him a pointed look.
Shinji held up his hands, just to prove his innocence. “I've not done anything yet. I was innocently visiting when you two decided to try and take me out.”
“That was an accident,” Abarai reminded him. “'Sides, that was Ichigo's fault.”
“It's not my fault you couldn't watch where you were going!”
“I was following you, bastard!”
They were such good friends. Really.
Kisuke chuckled and glanced at Shinji around the two arguing hotheads who were trading barbs about something that happened two years ago. “So,” he said with a noticeable drag on the single syllable. “Still thinking about sticking around?”
Shinji sat back in his chair, making himself comfortable as he idly brushed a piece of stray rice from his lips. “Oh, I thought I'd hang out for a week or so. You've got the space, don't ya?”
There was a sudden thump of a knee striking the table. “What? A week?” Ichigo demanded, somehow managing to hear their conversation over his heated discussion with Abarai.
Chuckling, Shinji idly examined his perfectly trimmed fingernails. “Why, Ichigo, I'm hurt. One would think you didn't like me visitin'.”
“It's not at the top of my list of enjoyable things, no,” Ichigo gritted out, eyebrow twitching as though he and Byakuya-kun had suddenly traded levels of bitchiness. “Don't you have things you need to be doing or something?”
“No. Why? Am I going to cut into your snuggle time with Ki-chan here?”
Ichigo turned the color of an overripe tomato as Kisuke disappeared behind his fan with an amused chuckle. Abarai, for his part, stuffed his mouth with a bite of rice and tried to pretend he was blind and deaf and not a part of this conversation at all. Poor thing. He had no idea of Shinji's plans, did he?
Shinji leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table, lacing them together. It was time to up the ante. “Have you guys even experimented yet? I know Ki-chan likes handcuffs.”
There was a moment where his words hung in the air with obvious tease, before Abarai started choking on his food and Ichigo looked about two seconds away from leaping across the table to throttle Shinji personally. Kisuke was too amused to be of much help, laughing behind his fan. Ichigo shot him a look and Shinji just knew that Kisuke would be paying for this amusement later.
“And other things as well,” Kisuke said mischievously, winking at Shinji. “But I've nothing on your depravities, Shin-chan.”
Shinji tossed his head flippantly. “I'm merely honest in my wants. Don't tell me you wrap Ichigo here in a plastic bubble. Unless that's your taste, of course.”
Abarai's face turned scarlet. “I need some air,” he said and suddenly rose from the table, fleeing from the room as though his ass were on fire.
Hmm. Now there was an image. Shinji could just imagine how it got that way, too. Bent over the bed, buttocks scarlet, with very obvious handprints on them. Begging and crying for more, flesh a contrast to the dark lines of those tattoos. Amber eyes gleaming with need and defiance, lips reddened and rough...
Was it getting hot in here or was it just him?
“Shinji!”
He blinked out of his daydream and turned an innocent look onto his gracious host. “What?” Shinji asked, batting his eyes.
Kisuke looked amused; Ichigo looked torn between humiliation and anger. “Lost in a daydream, were we?”
The corner of Shinji's lips curled with amusement. “Just a lovely image that I'll keep to myself, thank you very much.”
Ichigo made a sound, a cross between a growl and a noise of disgust. “You two are impossible,” he said, and got up from the table, too. “I'll let the perverts have some time to themselves.”
“Find poor Abarai and make sure he's okay, will you?” Kisuke called after him mischievously.
Ichigo rolled his eyes, waving a hand over his shoulder. “He's fine. This can't be the first time he's had to listen to that sort of thing. His best friend's Hisagi, remember?”
Shinji lifted a brow. “Hisagi? As in, Kensei's fan boy?”
“The one and the same,” Kisuke replied with a grin, fan closing with a loud snap. “Don't let his reaction fool you. Abarai's as twisted as they come.”
“How twisted?” Shinji's creative mind decided to provide several erotic images, all of which made him hot under the collar and his black slacks just a little too tight. Coming to visit Ki-chan in his shoten had turned out to be a good idea after all.
Kisuke rose from his seat, their abandoned meal cooling on the table. “I think I'll let you figure that out for yourself. As for me, I'm going to track down my errant lover.”
“Ya never did answer me, ya know,” Shinji said, planting his chin on his knuckles as he looked at his former lover. “Have ya managed to introduce Ichigo to the chocolate side of things or what?”
A familiar teasing glint appeared in gray-green eyes. “I don't kiss and tell,” Kisuke said, touching a finger to the brim of his hat. “See you in the morning, Shinji. Good luck.”
“I have skill, which trumps luck in all instances,” Shinji retorted confidently.
Kisuke laughed. “But Abarai is a stubborn creature. Much like Ichigo. And we all know how long it took to woo him.”
Many, many amusing months, if Shinji recalled correctly. He had endured Kisuke's drunken confessions and moans about Ichigo's general lack of comprehension. It had taken months for Ichigo to realize that his former master was panting after him, and then even longer for him to understand that it wasn't just lust. Now they were a couple of love-sick idiots and Shinji couldn't help teasing them. It was too much fun.
“Don't underestimate me, Kisuke. I have no intention of treating Abarai with kiddie gloves like you do Ichigo.” He grinned, knowing it resembled the toothy grin of a shark. “In fact, I'm pretty sure he'd like rougher handling than that.”
Kisuke rolled his eyes and waved a flippant hand over his shoulder. “Like I said, good luck with that. Something tells me I'll be the one to have the last laugh, though.”
He was gone before Shinji could form a proper retort. Not that he needed to. Future events would prove his own boasts after all.
In a good mood, Shinji proceeded to dive into the dinner Tessai-san had carefully prepared for them. It would be a shame to let it go to waste. Besides, he'd need to keep up his energy, wouldn't he?
It was a little chilly outside, but Renji didn't mind. In fact, he welcomed the cold. It helped combat the heat in his cheeks and the flush of... well, he couldn't call it embarrassment or anger since it wasn't either. He wasn't sure what to name it. Hell, it wasn't like this was the first time anyone'd talked sex around him.
Just... generally it was people he knew on a closer basis rather than the strangers he and Hirako were. Besides, Ichigo was pretty damn embarrassed enough for the both of them. Poor kid. Well, that was what he got for hooking up with a pervert like Urahara-san. Renji'd bet a month's wages that they probably did have a box of toys or some such in the closet. He wouldn't put it past Urahara-san.
Either way, Renji had only sought a breath of fresh air because Hirako's openly lustful looks were getting more and more obvious and Renji couldn't decide if he were embarrassed or aroused by them. The man was hot, Renji had to give him that, but there was a dangerous glint to his eyes, too. 'Sides, Renji hadn't come here to start some torrid love affair with a Vizard.
He paused, brow crinkling.
Why had he come here, again? To spar a bit with Ichigo, yeah. To escape from Soul Society? Maybe a little. Okay, so there wasn't any real purpose why he was here. It stood to reason that he could indulge if he wanted to.
If being the operative word here.
The wind rose again, damp and chill, reminding Renji that his dress shirt was not nearly as thick as a shihakushou. The skin on his arms prickled and he fought down a shiver. Time to go back inside, consider the rest of his dinner, maybe even raid Urahara-san's kitchens for a bottle of the good stuff that he knew the perverted shopkeeper kept stashing in random cupboards.
Renji turned back toward the porch and the back door, climbed onto the wooden deck and reached for the swinging door. However, before he could so much as push it open, it swung open in front of him, nearly putting him off balance. He stumbled inside, caught himself, and then growled in annoyance, one suspect at the top of his list.
“Not funny, Ichi-- oh. It's you.”
Not Ichigo, in fact, but Hirako Shinji. Grinning at him as though this were an everyday occurrence. As though he were a cat standing in front of a trapped, flightless canary.
“My Abarai-kun, that tone of voice... you'd think I'd done something untoward,” Hirako drawled, his eyes raking Renji from head to toe, making him feel he might as well be naked for all the clothes he's wearing.
Renji attempted to edge around the Vizard and step back into the shoten. “Not yet, but I'll bet you're plannin' to.”
An arm appeared in front of him, stretching across the hall and blocking Renji's path. The door slammed shut, effectively trapping Renji between the door and Hirako. The latter of whom was grinning at Renji.
He chuckled. “Do I look that dangerous?”
Yes. Renji's instincts wanted to scream the answer, but his pride wouldn't let him. Hirako might be able to kick his ass from one end of Karakura to the other, but Renji refused to give in or back down. For a man several inches shorter than Renji, Hirako had a rather intimidating aura.
“Depends on what you mean by danger,” Renji said, because if Hirako was going to openly tease him, then Renji had better give as good as he got, or he'd be in a world of humiliation. 'Sides, it wasn't like it was a trial or anything. Hirako was hot.
The corner of Hirako's mouth curved upward, his eyes glittering with some unnameable desire, and Renji had never been more conscious of their proximity. “I'm not going ta eat ya if that's what yer worried about,” Hirako said.
“The thought never even crossed my mind,” Renji lied easily enough. He could already feel the heat crawling up his neck, threatening to invade his face. This close, Hirako's scent crowded his nose, smelling like thunderstorms and metal and burnt popcorn. No, Renji didn't know why the Vizard smelled like burnt popcorn, but for once it wasn't an unpleasant odor. Just sharp and unforgettable.
“Maybe ya were expectin' somethin' else then,” Hirako said, his voice practically a sultry purr as he leaned closer, brown eyes dark and wicked.
Renji knew he was walking into a trap, but he couldn't stop himself anyway. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was the fact he hadn't gotten laid since Muguruma-san came back to Soul Society and whisked Hisagi-senpai out from under Renji's nose. And it didn't help that Urahara-san and Ichigo tended to flirt where anyone and their brother could see, taunting people with the pretty picture they made together, one meant to be watched but not touched. Or maybe he just really was the idiot everyone says he was.
Either way, he licked he lips and asked, “Like what?” Knowing full well what was probably coming next.
Hirako didn't disappoint either. He laughed all husky like and leaned forward, anticipation making his eyes dark, making Renji's breath catch. “Like this,” Hirako said, and closed the distance between them, sealing their mouths together in a kiss that was all hunger and desire. The sort that made Renji's gut twist with heat and his jeans a little tighter.
His lips parted before he thought twice about it, and Hirako nipped at his lower lip, a sharp prick of teeth, before his tongue invited itself inside and--
Holy shit!
Renji's blood drained south as he was reminded of something he'd forgotten. Namely, Hirako's tongue ring and the way it felt rubbing against Renji's tongue. All smooth metal and hot from his mouth. Renji imagined feeling that ring against his cock and a moan slipped into the kiss before he could stop it.
He heard Hirako chuckle as he deepened the kiss, drawing them together in a warm press of hard bodies. One hand reached up, tangled fingers in the end of Renji's braid, and gave it a slow, steady tug. Nothing harsh and jarring, but just a reminder of what could be done with it later. A slow pull on his scalp that made his breath hitch.
There was a thump as Renji's back hit the wall, not that it put any distance between them. Hirako just followed the motion until Renji was trapped between him and the wall, his thoughts spinning with Hirako's hot metal scent and closeness. His hand rose like it had a mind of its own, hooking an arm around Hirako's waist, pulling them closer together. He could feel Hirako's groin against his thigh, and the hard-on behind thin slacks.
Renji groaned low in his throat, more growl than moan, as Hirako kissed him like he was desperate for it. Tongue claiming in sweeping swipes, teeth nipping at his lips. Tasting like their dinner and something else, something Renji couldn't quite identify. Not bad, but intriguing, like a spice.
“Ahem.”
The sound of someone clearing their throat echoed in the hallway and Renji separated from Hirako like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His pants were way too tight and it felt like a current was running through his body, encouraging him to grab Hirako and finish what the teasing blond had started.
Except that now they had an audience, one that looked far too amused for his own good.
“Normally, I'd hate to interrupt such a pretty picture,” Urahara-san said, eyebrows lifted at both Renji and Hirako. “But there are young eyes in this house, so I'd appreciate it if you'd save the removal of clothes for the privacy of a bedroom, yes?”
Renji just knew that his face was a serious shade of scarlet. “Sorry, Urahara-san,” he said, and slipped out from between Hirako and the wall, feeling a bit like a mangy mutt slinking off with its tail between its legs. “I'll keep that in mind.”
“You do that,” Urahara-san replied, his tone full of humor and smugness. His eyes were concealed by the shadow of his hat, but Renji could still feel their intent stare between his shoulder blades as he hurried down the hall toward the room that had been made his own during his frequent visits.
Behind him, he heard Urahara-san start in on Hirako. “And as for you, Shinji. I thought you knew better.”
“Could ya blame me?” Hirako retorted, and that was the last Renji heard before he dove into his bedroom, closed the door and leaned against it, heart thumping a crazy rhythm in his chest.
He was still hard. And when he swiped his tongue over his lips, he swore he could taste Hirako. Could still feel the titillating sensation of that ring pressing against his sensitive tongue.
Renji groaned, knocking his head back against the wood. Man, he was so fucked.
a/n: There is plenty more fun and teasing (and smut) to come! Stay tuned!
And as always, feedback is welcome and appreciated!
