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Chapter Text

Penumbra, Chapter One

The great red doors swung open, torchlight reflecting off the oversized golden handles and skittering down the quiet hall in random spots and swathes. Byakuya followed a lone ray of flickering firelight with his eyes as it flitted up the door, then the lintel and finally settled on an unassuming patch of plain white plaster overhead as he crossed the threshold and entered the empty meeting room. 

Stepping forward as the guards shut the massive doors behind him, he made an effort not to breathe in too much of the air thick with stale smoke and the humidity of summer. Byakuya frowned, trying to remember the last time he stood in the Great Hall, or the circumstances of the last Captain’s meeting.

He couldn’t. It had been too long.

Closing his eyes and navigating the room by memory, he pushed through the cloying air and made for the door in the back corner. It, too, opened as if by magic, the attendants stepping into the shadows and then out of sight as he swept by.

It was all he could do not to shiver.

Thankfully, a beacon of warm light shone out from the end of the interior passage. He strode forward with some relief as he neared the fusuma, first sliding aside a faded scene of grasses and cranes on a lakeshore, then a portrait of a blooming plum tree bustling with warblers and wrens. The panel slid shut before he could even turn round so he blinked instead, taking in the cozy office and the man ensconced, unexpectedly, behind the desk.

“Ah, Bya-kun, you look lost,” Kyouraku Shunsui smiled as he looked up from a formidable stack of papers.  

“Not at all,” Byakuya droned, eyeing the other man’s plain white kosode and noting the conspicuous absence of drinking vessels. “I am simply surprised.”

“What, that I’m working?” Shunsui proposed with a laugh. He turned to set his brush aside, his eyepatch towards his guest.

“Hnn, moreso to see this room in use. I’ve not been here in decades.” Byakuya let his gaze drop to the tatami mats, still impeccable, and a small floral arrangement perched on the edge of the low desk.

“Nanao-chan’s handiwork,” Shunsui pointed to the blooms of yellow and white with fondness. “She said something about this place being hardly fitting, otherwise.”

The Captain Commander toiling in a closet? I should say so. Byakuya nodded, noncommittal.

“The old man’s office is simply too big,” Shunsui continued as if reading his mind, drumming his long fingers on the hardwood of the desk. “I can’t read in a space expansive enough to picnic with the whole division.”

“That depends on whether one hopes to get any work done or not.”

“Indeed,” Shunsui smiled again, broader than the first. “Speaking of welcome diversions, to what do I owe the pleasure of such illustrious company?”

Expressionless, the Kuchiki head retrieved a scroll from his kimono folds and handed it over. “The report on damages to the archives and an estimate of cost of repairs, per your request, sir.”

“Ah, and the news is so dire that you had to deliver it in person?” Shunsui accepted the scroll and broke the wax seal, eye skimming over the figures. “I’m not known for shooting the messenger, so to speak.”

“Messengers have been known to misplace items, though,” Byakuya countered and produced a large, frosted glass bottle from his sleeve, which he placed adjacent to the flowers on the desk. “It is customary, I believe, to bring a gift to offset the delivery of unpleasant news.”

“Hmm,” despite the dubious frown claiming his mouth, Shunsui couldn’t school the remainder of his features into disinterest as he examined the bottle. “Very, very nice vintage. This is the best bribe I’ve had all week.”

“All quarter, at least,” Byakuya raised an eyebrow. “I have no objection to using clan resources to fund a portion of repairs, though that requires additional forms to be completed. I can have them to you by tomorrow.”

“Does that mean I need to give this back?” Shunsui tapped the neck of the bottle with a pensive fingertip.

Unable to stifle a sigh, Byakuya turned to the door. “I wouldn’t dream of it. You will need to inform me of its quality, though. It would not do to be doling out mediocre bribes.”

“Nor is it proper to hand off fine sake without sampling it.” Shunsui rose to his full height, towering over the Sixth’s captain by at least a foot. He swept to the door with the tiniest rustle of fabric, bottle in one hand and the other on Byakuya’s shoulder. “Has it stopped raining?”

“Two hours ago,” Byakuya reported even as he was ushered from the brightly lit room to the dank, ink-black hallway.

“Perfect.”

A moment later, he was following the Captain Commander by reiatsu alone as they traversed the narrow maze of halls at the heart of the First Division. It was several minutes more before they arrived on the tiled roof of the main building, a tray piled with several sakazuki, a decanter and what Byakuya could barely make out as a plate of sweets waiting for them. In another minute the scene came into focus as the few remaining wisps of clouds dispersed, bathing the buildings of Seireitei silver moonlight. Byakuya settled into seiza and uncorked the bottle, pouring out the rice liquor as the Captain Commander laid back to pillow his head on his interlaced fingers. They sat in silence, sipping the sake and watching as the lanterns and torches of the surrounding streets were gradually extinguished, giving way to the twinkling stars overhead.

The bottle was half empty before Shunsui spoke. “Ah, the stillness of late spring; any night now, the cicadas will start serenading us.”

“As will the tavern patrons, though they may not wait for the reopening to begin,” Byakuya mused as Shunsui laughed outright.

“Indeed, carousing is the best indicator that life is returning to normal.” Shunsui drained his drink and set it aside, waving off the Kuchiki’s offer of a refill. He stretched and crossed his legs, swinging his foot up and down as he stared at the sky. He sighed. “I suppose it’s time for a captains’ meeting.”

“Not necessarily; appointments beneath captain’s rank can still be expedited under the Emergency Provisions…provided you haven’t rescinded them yet?”

Shunsui rolled onto his side with a smirk. “You’re advocating that I shirk bureaucracy? I’m shocked.”

Byakuya made a polite, if disparaging, noise at the back of his throat and sipped at his sake.

“In all fairness, it’s up to Central 46, and they’ve been just as beleaguered as everybody else. There’s been some muttering from the most senior members, but no one’s been lobbying for a return to the normal, massive amounts of paperwork yet.” Shunsui brushed a wayward curl of hair away from his face. “It might be fun to beat them to it.”

“I doubt your lieutenant will find it amusing.” Byakuya set his half-full sakazuki aside and shifted his position on the curved tiles of the roof.

“True,” Shunsui winced. “If anything, she deserves a vacation. The trick will be getting her to take it, or convince her that the army of clericals she’s trained can keep up with the work in her absence. Supreme overachiever, my Nanao.”

“A credit to your division, Soutaichou.” Byakuya inclined his head in respect.

“I’ve never deserved her,” Shunsui said to himself, though he turned to look at the younger captain again. “And what of your division? Have you decided, yet?”

“There are those I ought to consult first.”

“Well, that’s something,” Shunsui sat up, straightening his robes. “There was a time that Kuchiki-sama wouldn’t have taken their opinions into consideration…nor would he have deigned to share a drink with a fellow captain unless he had no recourse.”

“Or unless ordered to, as I was tonight,” Byakuya countered, though his tone betrayed a touch of amusement.

“It couldn’t be helped; knowing how long this lovely concoction had languished in your cellars, I couldn’t let it sit another night.” Picking up the bottle to admire it in the cool light of the moon, Shunsui lifted it overhead, painting his face in rippling shadow. “Though I suppose the rest could keep for a bit.  What do you say to dinner tomorrow?”

Byakuya blinked at him.

“Come now, I don’t polish off every bottle right away.”

 Not anymore.

“Civilian dress, please,” Shunsui went on, standing and scooping up the tray. “Let’s see how well it suits you.”

Any retort Byakuya might have made died on his lips as Kyouraku materialized mere inches in front of his face.

“I would appreciate it if you humored me,” Shunsui leaned forward until their noses nearly touched, a swirl of sake, tea and an earthy scent in his wake. “Consider it a sign of my gratitude for the delightful diversion this evening.”

“Very well,” came Byakuya’s quiet assent, though he was otherwise completely still.

“It’s getting late. Shall I take you home?”

Byakuya found himself taking a step back as he searched his face, nothing in Shunsui’s rumbling voice or intense gaze suggesting that he was joking. “I…I believe I can find my own way, thank you.”

“Hmm.”

Shunsui ran his hand absently down Byakuya’s arm, and the warmth reached the Kuchiki’s skin despite the many layers of intervening cloth. Byakuya refused to shiver, or react in any way, all focus directed toward the man in before him.

A cool breeze swept in from the north at that moment, and Shunsui’s attention and reiatsu seemed to draw back into himself. Byakuya tried to place the scent of the Soutaichou’s reiatsu- maple leaves in the Autumn? Freshly turned earth? - but couldn’t, and just as ephemeral as his spiritual pressure, Shunsui had turned and lengthened the distance between them, and stood backlit by moonlight on the peak of the roof.

“Tomorrow, then. Do take care, Kuchiki-san.”

And he was gone.

A second, chilling draught caught Byakuya’s hair and robes, and he made no effort to resist the shiver when it came. He turned to face the wind, glimpsing the silent, shadow-infested lanes and alleys stretching out in a maze before him. Abandoned buildings and piles of rubble still marred the face of the Seireitei, but the chaos and refuse of war seemed to diminish by the day. Byakuya let his eyes roam the skyline, noting the destroyed and the rejuvenated, until his sights settled on the familiar features of the Sixth, many miles away from his rather alien perch on the stronghold of the First.

Looking down at the tiles beneath his feet, he shook his head.

“Take care of yourself, Kyouraku-soutaichou.”

Byakuya stepped off the roof, his shunpou not disturbing the tiles in the slightest. 

Chapter Text

Penumbra, Chapter Two

“I’m glad I didn’t bring any more sake.”

Armed with a disapproving glare, Byakuya stepped onto the shaded verandah, avoiding the multitude of empty bottles strewn along the deck. After an hour of searching every cranny of the First and Eighth divisions, he was mildly relieved and mostly annoyed to find the Head Captain slouched against a post, swathed in a flowery kimono and smoking a pipe.

“That’s a shame….now we’re out,” Shunsui lamented, pronunciation precise, as tendrils of smoke wafted out over the koi pond, swirling in the late afternoon sunlight that dappled the water in greens and browns. “Welcome to my humble abode, Bya-kun.”

“Kyouraku-soutaichou,” Byakuya sighed and came to a stop, looking down on his superior. “You seem to have neglected to include food as part of your dinner.”

“Nonsense, this was but an aperitif,” Shunsui gestured to the decimated bottles with his pipe. “I wouldn’t dare ruin a supper to be shared with you.”

Byakuya quirked a brow before it could be stopped. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he turned away to look out over the pond.

“Oh, don’t be put out. I’m not teasing you.”

Byakuya peered over his shoulder and down at Shunsui, who tipped his sakkat back to meet his gaze.

“I should lend credence to the ramblings of a drunk?”

Shunsui sighed and leaned back. “I’m not nearly as drunk as I’d like to be.”

Letting his gaze drift back to the pond, Byakuya sighted the occasional flash of gold and ivory as a carp would surface, leaving bubbles and swaying lily pad in its wake. The shadows of the nearby trees lengthened to stretch like grasping hands over the water and paint more of the atrium in shade. It was many minutes later, when a flock of tiny brown birds startled from a maple and took to the air that the hazy hush was broken.

"I’ve been a poor host.” Tapping the ash into a small porcelain bowl, Shunsui set the pipe aside. “Won’t you have a seat? If we haven’t frightened them off, we could probably trouble the attendants for some dinner.”

Byakuya remained still but for glancing at Kyouraku and the dark circle beneath his eye. “Perhaps we should dine out.”

“Oh?” Shunsui sat up and stretched before removing his hat and fanning himself with it.

“There is a noodle stand just opened by the South Gate,” Byakuya reported while watching the older man from the corner of his eye. Shunsui’s chest hair never failed to distract him, though he failed to understand why, for as often as it escaped from the gap in his kimono. “Renji has been raving about it all week. I am considering trying it, if only out of self-defense.”

“You. Eating at a noodle stand.” Shunsui made no effort to hide his incredulity. “This I have to see.”

“Their ramen is supposed to be exquisite,” Byakuya clarified, lifting his chin.

“Sounds perfect.” Shunsui shook out his hair, a chaotic tumble of auburn curls, and took his time smoothing it back into his usual low ponytail. Allowing himself another long, languid stretch, he winked at his companion as he eased himself up off the deck. “I could go for a walk.”

“And a visit to the vintner, I’m sure,” Byakuya turned away, heading for the exit and ignoring the flustered flutter in his stomach.

“You wound me.” A grinning Kyouraku pulled up alongside him and clapped him merrily on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, this time I’ll get enough for both of us.”

“Ah, what a relief,” the Kuchiki rolled his eyes, though the hallway to the main entrance was nearly pitch-black in the shadows. “I had no idea such a massive stockpile even existed within Seireitei’s walls.”

“Prepare to be pleasantly surprised.”

Shunsui’s breath tickled his ear and stirred his hair, while the hand on his shoulder slid over to his neck, then lightly down his spine. Before Byakuya could think, much less react, they were out of the shadows and treading on sun-drenched stepping stones leading away from the entryway of the house. The Captain Commander, now at a respectful distance, turned to him with a twinkle in his dark eye.

“Do lead on.”

With bows, pleasantries and compliments exchanged, they departed from the Ramen stand as the last rays of daylight wove through the carts of the open-air market. Rather than take the most direct route through the shopping district, they opted for the wooded lane that circumscribed the southeast quadrant of the Seireitei and meandered just within its walls. Byakuya approved, having walked this road on many nights and relishing the rustling of leaves and the crisp scent of the pine needles layering the ground nearby.

“Ah, what a fine evening,” Shunsui declared as he folded his hands behind his neck and craned upward to look at the sky, a magnificent display of orange flowing into pink with a frame of amethyst clouds.

Byakuya nodded in agreement, admiring the sway of the branches overhead that were nearly black in comparison to the riotous colors of the sunset.

“You look particularly lovely tonight.”

“Spare me the flattery.” Byakuya looked down reflexively, wondering what part of the silver and seafoam-green kimono could possibly be attractive bathed in tangerine twilight. He hoped the rapid-fading daylight was too dim to reveal the color blossoming on his cheeks.

“Though to be fair,” Shunsui went on blithely, “you could probably waltz around in a tablecloth and still look ravishing.”

“Kyou-” the Kuchiki tried to interrupt, to no avail.

“Shutara-san’s cloak for you was rather like a tablecloth, come to think of it,” Kyouraku mused, soon humming an aimless, jolly tune as he strolled along.

“It served its purpose,” Byakuya interjected, his irritation finally getting the better of him.

“So it did,” Shunsui agreed, all trace of teasing vanished as he turned to look Byakuya in the eye. “And I am grateful.”

Taken aback and a bit unsettled, Byakuya turned away and faced straight ahead, seeing nothing in particular in the gloom ahead except for his own memories. Both men slowed, partially due to the dwindling visibility as the sky grew dark, no moon or stars yet appearing to light their path.

“I did not mean to make you uncomfortable,” Shunsui sighed. “I suppose it will be quite a while before any of that business is easy to talk about, much less joke material.”

Byakuya nodded, a useless gesture in the gathering dark, but continued to walk on. He caught occasional glimpses of lights well hidden between the trees: the tiny yellow flashes of precocious fireflies, the distant lantern atop a riverman’s barge. He blinked several times, waiting for the moisture pooling at the corner of his eyes to disperse. The tightness behind his breastbone, too, was borne but dealt with quickly.

The pain lingers, he decided as he pushed on further into the atramentous woods, though I would not wish for it to pass. It is often the best reminder of who and what we have lost.

Byakuya came to an abrupt halt when a hand closed on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, cursing himself for having been surprised for a second time that evening. How am I not even noticing such proximity? You would think that it was I that had been drinking all day.

 “Please,” Shunsui implored, a warm but looming presence directly in front of him, “forgive me.  Such brooding is catching, and best done while drinking.”

“Why is it, then, that you are even more somber when sober?” Byakuya looked up, eventually able to make out the long face, chiseled cheekbones and new lines etched around the older man’s mouth.

“Lack of suitable distraction, I suppose.”

Shunsui’s voice seemed even deeper then, a baritone rumble that resonated in his bones. The memory of that voice intoning a bankai release still made him shiver, and Byakuya couldn’t stop himself from shuddering at the memory, at the overwhelming power and destruction that had been released in its wake.

It made him all the more furious at himself when, mere moments later, he startled badly as Kyouraku’s warm fingertips swept his bangs out of his eyes.

“Oh dear,” a soft laugh, then Shunsui bolstered him with a hand on each shoulder. “Did I frighten you?”

“Hardly,” Byakuya replied in an instant, almost hissing. Part of him thought of stepping back, of moving away, but not the part that was controlling his body that evening. A beam of moonlight found its way to Shunsui, illuminating his unruly hair and long, well-muscled neck. The contrast of the pale light and the eye intent on his own had Byakuya fixated and he was unable to move.

“Are you cold?”

Not anymore, an irritable Byakuya decided even as a cool breeze licked at his ankles and neck. The heat rolling off of the taller, broader Kyouraku seemed to engulf him, and despite himself, he found that he liked it.

“No,” Byakuya declared aloud, tilting his chin up in defiance of the circumstances and the confusing signals that his nervous system was sending his way.

“Good.”

Before he could draw another breath, he felt the air being forced from his lungs as his back was pressed against a rough-barked fir tree. It took Byakuya a moment to gain his bearings – one minute they were standing in the middle of the road, and now-

Now he was pinned to a tree and shuddering, again, as a lightly-calloused hand slid up his neck and into his hair.

Damn it, was he always this fast? Byakuya tried to think, even as Shunsui rocked their hips together, making them both gasp. Perhaps I didn’t notice because I wasn’t the target…?

He gave up on thinking entirely as Shunsui kissed him, a hot, breathless exercise that left him panting and clawing at his shoulders. The moustache tickled his nose, to be sure, but Shunsui and his damn, insistent tongue seemed to wipe both his inhibitions and any rational thought clean away. Teeth grazed his lip and he groaned, which earned an answering rumble from Kyouraku, whose hands traced down his chest and along his sides.

Byakuya closed his eyes as the hands settled on his hips, though he scrunched them shut when Shunsui lifted him up and pressed him further into the tree with his pelvis. With a groan and a mumbled curse Byakuya gave in and wrapped his legs around Kyouraku’s waist. At that Shunsui came up for air with a devious grin, fingers tightening on the Kuchiki’s bottom as he leaned in to bite Byakuya’s neck.

“Shun-sui-!” Byakuya hissed as the biting gave way to a long, powerful suck.

“Mmh?”

The teeth toying with his collarbone and tugging at his kimono didn’t even pause.

“The road,” Byakuya turned his head- with difficulty- to look at said lane, though neither one of them could see or sense anything coming.

Shunsui paused and blinked at him before leaning in to whisper, “would you rather I had you in the middle of the woods?”

Byakuya never got the chance to answer. Shunsui covered his mouth and took it over again as he set to work on his clothing, pushing layers of kimono up to try to reach the ties of Byakuya’s hakama. Faring a bit better, Byakuya tugged on Shunsui’s shitagi enough to loosen the left side and free the shoulder. Preoccupied as he was with the man’s beautifully defined deltoid and dark, ubiquitous body hair, it took a while for him to notice that the road was no longer in sight. The bark at his back was smoother, too, and did not catch on his kimono quite as often…which was just as well, as he found himself bared to the waist with silks bunched at his elbows.

“Hold on,” Shunsui grumbled into his neck.

Complying without hesitation, Byakuya half expected to end up even deeper in the woods. Instead he felt Shunsui gently unwrap his legs from his waist and settle his waraji-clad feet on the ground, one at a time. Byakuya faltered a bit as he gained a foothold on the pine-needle carpet, his hakama sliding down and hanging lopsided from his right hipbone as he righted himself. He still clung to Shunsui’s broad shoulders with one hand, but the other snaked between them and retrieved the older man’s obi. He didn’t hold on to it long- Shunsui grabbed it from him when he popped up with Byakuya’s obi clenched between his teeth.

Their eyes met. Byakuya got the impression that there was a question implicit in the look exchanged, and that he should have had pause at the darkness that lurked deeper than the mischief and lust therein. But once again curiosity outweighed caution, and he nodded.

Kyouraku Shunsui disappeared.

Byakuya forced himself to calm, to breathe, to hold perfectly still rather than glance about like an anxious adolescent, disheveled and half-naked in the dark woods. It was a relief when, what seemed like an eternity later, strong, sure hands pulled his arms back and tied him tightly to the tree. He waited for all movement to cease before wriggling his fingers, though Byakuya soon found he was bound too thoroughly to do much else.

In contrast to his ‘disappearance,’ Shunsui took his time to manifest before him, trailing his fingertips up Byakuya’s forearm, over the bunched fabric that constituted his evening wear, and along the pale green veins that snaked up and under his arm.  He was skimming along the pectoral muscle and circling a pebbled pink nipple with his fingernail before he came to stand in front of Byakuya and lifted his chin for another possessive kiss.

Byakuya tilted his head and relaxed – what else could he do?- as Shunsui surveyed him by touch, the heat from his hands providing some comfort to the cooling skin of Byakuya’s torso. Shunsui stepped closer, pressing him flat against the tree and forcing his mouth open wider, lest their teeth collide. Rather than resist, Byakuya found himself melting into the sensation – the confinement seemed to counteract his exposure, made him acutely aware of every shifting muscle, every heartbeat radiating off of Shunsui, everything.

Perhaps that was why some unconscionable, needy noise escaped him when Shunsui moved back, tugging at Byakuya’s lower lip with his teeth. When Shunsui slid down and took his loosened hakama along to pool at his ankles, he congratulated himself on not overreacting and cracking his own head against the tree.

I’ve lost my mind.

Byakuya could do nothing but stand there and shiver as Kyouraku knelt before him with a look of dark, wicked promise. After a few expert tugs, Shunsui had his fundoshi off and completely out of view. Byakuya swallowed, his throat dry and tight. Shunsui watched, smirked, and leaned forward to take him into his mouth with a chuckle.

“Damn you,” Byakuya mouthed though no sound came forth. He scrunched his eyes shut and tugged and his wrist restraints, glad for something to struggle against, for something else to focus on. He was sure, between the adrenaline rushing through his system and the nearly-malicious suction Shunsui was plying him with, that he wouldn’t last a minute.

As if reading his thoughts, Kyouraku stilled, his lips a tight ring at the base of his cock; the way he swallowed the tip a second later was balanced by the slightest hint of teeth. Byakuya cursed – under his breath, he was fairly sure – and bit his lip as Shunsui swallowed again, then again before finally pulling back so both men could breathe.

The reprieve didn’t last. Byakuya could have sworn Shunsui was humming to himself as he lifted Byakuya’s phallus up, bestowing the occasional lazy stroke as he lapped and nibbled along his scrotum. Growing restless with the pressure building at the base of his spine, Byakuya made several efforts to shift his position, not sure if he wanted to delve in or try to get away, and succeeded only in chafing his wrists and letting his chin drop forward on to his chest.

Opening his eyes was a mistake. He looked down to see Shunsui watching him with a smug expression, even as the bastard sucked one of his balls into his mouth with a slurp. Byakuya closed his eyes again and extended his neck, not caring when his skull connected with the tree and strands of hair caught in the bark. He strained against the obi again until his fingers went numb, the pain balancing the maddening pleasure building in his groin.

The suction stopped. Byakuya held his breath as the tip of Shunsui’s tongue moved on to tickle the other testicle. He was starting to get dizzy as the tongue slowed, then retreated before what felt like his whole scrotum was enveloped in moist, sizzling heat. Byakuya gasped and tugged at his restraints, fearing the obi might snap under pressure, but pulling and struggling until his fingers tingled and his wrists throbbed. He tried holding his breath again, anything to slow the humiliating thundering of his heart in his chest.

Out of nowhere, both of his thighs were seized in a bruising grip. Byakuya exhaled, panting, trying to catch his breath and clear his head. When he calmed enough to open his eyes he was surprised to see Shunsui fixing him with a solemn, rather stern expression.

“You’re missing the point,” Shunsui intoned as he ran his hands soothingly over Byakuya’s hips and thighs.

Byakuya could only blink at him, his higher cortical functions still too frazzled to form a coherent phrase.

“Rather than simply experience pleasure,” Shunsui paused to lick him from glistening tip up to the patch of dark curls surrounding the base of his erection, “you’ve been preoccupied with distracting yourself, trying to maintain control.” Kyouraku emphasized the last two words by gripping his buttocks and letting his fingernails lightly dig in to the skin.

Shunsui stood slowly, sliding his hands up over Byakuya’s abdomen, coming to rest on his chest. The Captain Commander loomed over him, shadows cast by the overhead tree canopy obscuring most of his face. It was only then, as he strained to lift his chin to look at Kyouraku, that Byakuya realized that he was shivering, and he doubted it had anything to do with apprehension.

Shunsui grasped his trembling chin as his other hand traced seemingly random patterns over Byakuya’s chest.  He brought their foreheads together, his left eye boring into Byakuya’s right. “What gave you the idea that you have any control now?”

Even as he hissed the words, Shunsui pinched his nipple, twisting it lightly between forefinger and thumb. Byakuya couldn’t breathe but his lips parted anyway; Shunsui took advantage of that, too, licking his bottom lip before delving inside. The kiss went on and on and he started to get dizzy again, perhaps from the way his tongue was being sucked, more likely because he’d given up on breathing at all. Bright flashes of white and silver light dotted his eyelids, and his fingers and toes curled with a prickling numbness as his lungs screamed for air.

Suddenly he found himself gasping, chest rising as he took one labored breath after another. Byakuya blinked, squinted and blinked again, unable to bring anything into focus; Shunsui was nothing more than a pointillistic blur of sparkles and shadows that surrounded him on all sides. The shadows then slithered over his neck and chest like a mass of glistening sea serpents, equally likely to bite as to caress.

“If it is pain that you need, you have only to ask,” husked the Shadow using Shunsui’s voice as it set its serpents to biting his nipples in earnest.

Byakuya arched his back, unable to make a sound.  Another, larger snake slid and ground down against his cock, its scales scalding his inflamed skin as silk stretched over liquid fire.

It was awful, tortuous and perfect, and he was sure he couldn’t stand another second of it.

The Shadow murmured something into his neck as the snakes hissed and shifted; pleasure erupted everywhere and poured out of him, taking his strength along for the ride. Byakuya’s knees buckled, and only the serpents coiled around his wrists kept him upright, though the world turned ninety degrees and began to spin. Shadows of all sizes merged and crept up his flesh, covering his eyes and turning the world completely dark.

Chapter Text

Penumbra, Chapter Three

                The forest was surprisingly quiet. Byakuya expected the creak of tall trees shifting in the wind, the rustle of the occasional nocturnal creature flitting through the canopy, or even the comforting chorus of crickets that would fill the nights with their songs until the fall. The only sounds to greet him as he woke, however, were the gentle trickle of water over rocks and the syncopated cracks and pops emanating out of a fire nearby.

                Fire?

                Rather than open his eyes and move from his current, quite comfortable position, he stretched out with his senses to try to gain his bearings. The surface on which he lay was a real bed, not a lumpy layer of pine needles on the cold ground. He seemed to be clothed…or at least covered and acceptably warm. There were two light sources that he could discern through the thin veil of his eyelids; one from the mystery fire, low and off to his left somewhere, and another, a smaller flickering beacon over his right shoulder.

                It was the mix of scents in the space, though, that captured his attention. Byakuya lay motionless as he tried to tease out the olfactory clues permeating the area.

                Incense.

                Parchment.

                Freshly mixed ink.

                Roses.

                Jasmine.

                Sake? The bright, nearly-cloying notes were almost obscured by the flowers, he thought with an unconscious crinkle of the nose. Sake.

                Sweat.

                Pipe tobacco…

                …Shunsui.

                Byakuya started to sit up, eyes wide open, when a powerful hand came to rest on his chest, stopping him with a gentle touch.

                “Easy, now. Tea or sake?”

                “Tea,” was his reflexive reply. Byakuya braced himself on his elbows and blinked, taking in the tanned, hairy hand on his sternum and the way his loosened kimono parted and slid off of his shoulders in response. He arched an eyebrow but made no effort to cover himself; rather, he quickly inspected the visible skin and the lack of injury…or any indication at all of his recent activities.

                A steaming bowl of tea appeared under his nose. Byakuya accepted it and sat up as the restraining hand withdrew and came to settle on his upper back, the warmth of it raising gooseflesh along his neck. Rather than think too much on it, he eyed and sniffed the tea, pleasantly surprised at the smoky aroma. He took a sip and his eyes closed – it was excellent, barely bitter and went down easily, relaxing some of the tension quietly building in his gut.  Byakuya indulged in another sip before he opened his eyes to note the red and purple marks criss-crossing the blue veins of his wrists.

                Ah, so I didn’t imagine all of it…

                Strangely relieved, Byakuya looked around the room, a large space rendered cozy by a sunken hearth and the flickering candles nearby. The half-moon bridge over the koi pond was framed nicely by the sliding doors, and the moonlight reflecting up off the water danced in rippling waves over the ceiling. With a piping hot bowl of tea in hand, the effect was quite serene; he allowed himself a quiet, contented sigh despite his disheveled, half-bared state in another man’s bed.

                It was only with another long draught of tea that he realized that the broad, warm hand on him was actually rubbing slow, soothing circles over his spine. Byakuya swallowed and turned to find Shunsui behind him, wearing a burgundy yukata and an easy smile.

                “He lives!” Kyouraku chuckled, reaching for a sakazuki perched on a small writing desk near the bed. “I was beginning to worry.”

                “It takes a bit more than that to fully incapacitate me,” Byakuya turned away and exhaled in a prim huff, while trying to recall exactly what ‘that’ entailed. A vision of snakes and slithering shadows presented itself in response and he shook his head.

                Ridiculous. Ignoring the way his pulse quickened at the thought, he swirled the leaves at the bottom of the bowl instead.

                “Mmm-hmm,” Shunsui intoned between gulps, the smirk evident in his tone. “I have gathered remarkable intel about you tonight, Bya-chan.”

                Byakuya did nothing but extend his empty bowl in Shunsui’s general direction, most definitely not rankled by the diminutive, and awaited a refill of his tea.

                “Have you ever watched yourself eat?”

                “Why in the world would I do such a thing?” Byakuya accepted the once-again full bowl without any further acknowledgement. The hand on his back, however, circled lower to trace the small of his back.

                “You might be more aware of the show you put on, my boy.” Shunsui gave him a congenial pat or two before continuing, after another healthy swig of sake. “I have never seen anyone look so prim and yet so maddeningly erotic at the same time.”

                Kyouraku might have said something else, but Byakuya couldn’t follow the words –he was too incensed at the blush hijacking his cheeks and throat to pay heed to anything else.

                …”and your mouth, dear gods,” Shunsui was practically crooning, sweeping hand gestures hinted at by the riot of shadows cast over the rest of the bed. “It was all I could do not to take you there and then.”

                Byakuya fumed in silence for a moment, waiting for the gleeful Shunsui to finish refilling his sakazuki, before turning to snatch the drink right out of the Captain Commander’s larger hand. Kyouraku simply blinked at him, surprised, while Byakuya drained the sake and handed the sakazuki back with an even look.

                “I doubt the ramen chef would have appreciated your commandeering his establishment,” Byakuya frowned, unimpressed.

                “I’m sure I could have made it worth his while,” Shunsui filled his dish again and went on drinking as if nothing had happened. “Still, I wouldn’t have pegged you as one to talk in your sleep.”

                At that, Byakuya turned to face him properly, tea balanced carefully over his rumpled hakama.

                “Ah.” Shunsui paused with the sakazuki an inch from his lips. He studied Byakuya for a second before setting the drink aside. “It must have been an unusually vivid dream, then. You said something to the effect that you were drowning in snakes.”

                He may have flushed more, but he could hardly tell at that point. Byakuya decided to watch his reflection in the cooling tea as he considered his words. “I wasn’t entirely sure that I was dreaming.”

                “There were shadows?”

                Byakuya looked up to see Shunsui’s expression shift from one of concern to contrition.

                “Ah.” Kyouraku scratched at his beard with his index finger and glanced away. “It seems I owe you an apology.”

                Shunsui leaned back to rest against the paneled wall, his dark gaze eventually finding its way back to Byakuya. “It’s been a while since Katen Kyoukotsu had anyone new to play with…that wasn’t an enemy.”

                “I see,” Byakuya lied as he watched his superior with what he hoped was a serene countenance.

                Kyouraku smiled sheepishly and sipped at his sake. “Of course, they can’t be blamed for my getting carried away. I do hope it wasn’t entirely off-putting.”

                “Not entirely,” Byakuya admitted and considered his situation, swirling tea and sitting quite casually in the middle of the huge bed. “It is comforting to know that I wasn’t hallucinating due to asphyxia, actually.”

                Mostly.

                “Oh dear,” Shunsui chuckled and shook his head, though he shot the Kuchiki a sober look. “Still, I’m so very glad that they like you. It wouldn’t be safe for us to continue, otherwise.”

                Byakuya arched a manicured brow and finished his tea, handing Shunsui the empty bowl. “I am not convinced that their approval makes this any safer of an enterprise.” He paused, tilting his head. “However, I am not here for my safety.”

                “No, I suppose not.” Shunsui reached for him, brushing a stray lock of hair behind his ear, caressing his jaw with a pensive touch.

                Byakuya lowered his eyes and leaned into the hand cradling his face and tracing his lips with curious fingertips. He parted his lips to exhale and nip at Shunsui’s calloused finger, which earned him a chuckle. Shunsui then leaned forward and grabbed him at the waist, pulling him onto his lap with little effort. His kimono caught on the fluffy bedspread and so he shed it, straddling Shunsui with his hakama bunched at his hips.

                Shunsui grabbed his bottom and squeezed while he murmured into Byakuya’s neck, “so I take it that your passing out is a sign to stop?”

                “I would hope so,” Byakuya sighed and rolled his hips against Shunsui’s, the few layers of silk and cotton between them doing little to hide their growing excitement. “You wouldn’t get much of a reaction, otherwise.”

                “Mmmh,” Shunsui purred and bit his neck, teeth sinking into formerly pristine white flesh. His hands delved into Byakuya’s hakama and worked them down his legs, shifting him left, then right before removing it and tossing it to the foot of the bed. “I was so eager to see what you would look like, getting fucked into a tree.”

                “You’ll have to settle for a bed this time,” Byakuya countered, focusing entirely on divesting Shunsui of his yukata. He parted the cotton and revealed him, dark and hirsute, shoulders and pectorals much wider than Byakuya’s smaller frame.

                Shunsui stopped groping him long enough to slip his arms out of the sleeves with a wink. Byakuya ignored him and leaned in to run his hands along Shunsui’s ribs, taut abdomen and narrow thighs. He let his fingers trail lightly over the hair of his thighs before meandering back up to his shoulders, relishing in the opportunity to finally touch the man properly.

                “This is hardly settling,” Shunsui slid a hand into his hair and tugged, tilting his head back for a kiss. “It’ll be even easier to watch you unravel.”

                “So you say.” Byakuya nipped at his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, angling his head to get closer, take more in. They went on for a minute before both had to pull back for breath, panting. Byakuya parted the lower half of Shunsui’s robe and pulled the tie free. He held it out, draped over his palm. “Whatever transpires, I hope I can depend on your restraint.”

                Shunsui took the belt and made it a loose loop around Byakuya’s neck before sliding it slowly off. “I think I can manage.”

                Shunsui tossed the tie away and reached for him with naked hunger. Byakuya allowed himself to be drawn in without hesitation and they fell together in a rush of eager mouths and overheated skin. His fingers caught in Shunsui’s curly hair, raked along the glorious muscles and sinews of his shoulders and chest. Meanwhile, Shunsui pulled him down by the hips to better grind up against him; Byakuya let his head fall back with a groan and allowed Shunsui to manipulate him as he liked.

                It doesn’t make any sense, Byakuya decided as Shunsui bucked up and bit his collarbone. I’m far from weak or insecure, nor is recklessness my habit. And yet…

                Prying Shunsui’s hands loose, Byakuya slid off to the side and angled himself perpendicular to Shunsui’s legs. He rolled onto his stomach, presenting his back to Shunsui as he shook back his hair.

                …why am I offering myself to this man who could snap me like a twig?

                Byakuya lowered his head to dip down and take Kyouraku into his mouth. He raised up on one elbow and ran his other hand up the inside of Shunsui’s thigh, tickling the scattered, straight hairs along the way. A pleased rumble erupted above him while a steady hand landed on his calf to meander slowly northward. He looked up to find Shunsui watching him with intensity, even as the man went rooting for something to the side of the bed.

                He closed his eyes as he began to stroke Shunsui, his tongue darting out to lick the bitter, slightly salty tip. The warm hand left his leg and settled on the small of his back while something popped open over his head. Byakuya scrunched his eyes shut tightly, hoping to stop his thoughts by focusing on the task at hand.

It wasn’t working.

                I reached out because I sensed something was off…something that I foolishly thought that I could help with.

                I have no idea whether this is helping anyone, or simply complicating matters. If I had any sense-

                “You’re doing it again,” Shunsui yanked him up by the hair and craned his head around so that they were looking at each other. “This doesn’t come easily to you, does it, Byakuya?”

                “Nonsense,” Byakuya intoned with poise at complete odds with his position.

                “It isn’t a matter of skill,” Shunsui went on, running his thumb over Byakuya’s lower lip. As if to prove the point, he eased himself back into Byakuya’s mouth to engage in long, languid thrusts for several fevered minutes. Controlling the depth, tempo and angle with a turn of the wrist, Shunsui watched him with an unwavering gaze until Byakuya finally let his eyelids close.

                “That’s more like it,” Shunsui wiped away the saliva pooling at the corner of Byakuya’s mouth with his thumb.  He shifted his hips to thrust in a bit deeper, though short of causing Byakuya to gag. “This tendency of yours to distance yourself from what you’re feeling…it isn’t so much a need for pain.”

                He pulled Byakuya away again, the hold on his dark tresses unyielding.

“It’s a curious inability to allow yourself to experience anything pleasant.”

                Byakuya didn’t react as Shunsui tightened the grip on his hair, apart from licking his lips.

                “We will have to rectify this.” Shunsui hauled him up for a searing kiss, maneuvering him by the iron grip on his scalp. “Perhaps a bit of kidou is in order.”

                Shunsui didn’t give him time to respond. He crushed their mouths together, his erection sliding along Byakuya’s chest and abdomen. His chin and cheeks began to burn and tingle from the friction against Shunsui’s wiry beard.

                “Middle of the bed, on your belly.”

                Byakuya found himself collapsing onto the bed, but it took him a bit to notice that Shunsui was suddenly standing over him, his muscular frame illuminated by dancing firelight. It took Byakuya several moments longer to collect himself, much less move, his hands trembling slightly as he reoriented himself on the oversized bed. He turned his head away and could hear his pulse thundering in his ears as he sank into the bedspread, a satiny quilt of birds and autumn leaves.

                “Look at me.”

                He didn’t want to, but his body moved in instantaneous compliance with the command. Shadow blanketed the right side of Shunsui’s face, though his eyepatch and the wound sustained to the helix of his ear were still quite visible.

                “Spread your legs and grab your ankles.”

                The ringing in his ears grew louder, the blush burning his face more ferocious, though from excitement or shame, Byakuya could no longer tell.

                Shunsui slid a hand below his stomach and lifted him up to place a pillow beneath his hips. Shunsui sought out his half-hard length, giving it a squeeze before letting Byakuya settle back against the bed.

                Byakuya was vaguely aware of the whispered words pouring from Shunsui’s lips, though the lemon-yellow bakudo that sprang out of his hands and the citrus-ozone scent that followed were familiar enough.

                Low level kidou, Byakuya surmised as a ticklish, electric sensation sprang up around his wrists, ankles and thighs, binding his wrists together and locking his heels against his upper thighs.  A second spark ran along his spine, circling up around his neck, cradling his genitalia and seemingly anchoring both ends to his ankles. His bottom and groin were exposed and readily accessible, not that it surprised him a bit. Instead, he focused on the electrified ropes and their reiatsu signature.  It requires little effort to break it, not even an incantation.

                Testing his bonds, Byakuya tried to straighten his knees a bit and was rewarded with a jolt that left his skin prickling as if stung by an electric ray.

                “You’ll find that the more you struggle, the tighter your restraints will be,” Shunsui swept Byakuya’s hair away from his neck, pressing a kiss to the pale skin behind his ear as he picked up the bottle at the head of the bed. “If it becomes too much, just say so.”

                Byakuya had no intention of doing so and remained silent as Shunsui crawled onto the bed to settle between his legs. A tingle ran down his back, through the cleft between his buttocks and twisted around his already-bound thighs and legs, sending tiny tendrils between his toes.

                “Not too fast,” Shunsui murmured as a bottle popped open.

                The stinging spreading up his abdomen came to a standstill, and Byakuya realized that the Captain Commander was no longer speaking to him.

                 The zanpakutou spirits? Byakuya wondered as a spark licked and tickled his earlobe. Another darted into his navel as if in response.

                Shunsui nudged his thighs farther apart and spread him open. A half-second before Shunsui’s fingers, cool and slick, swept over him, a jolt of white heat circled around and pushed inside.

                Byakuya muffled his surprise into the quilt, actually biting the fabric as the ropy kidou spiraled up and into him.

                “None of that,” Shunsui tugged at the ring of gold fire around his neck, pulling him away from the bedspread. “I want to hear you.”

                Shunsui spread more of the viscous fluid over his flesh in slow circles, slipping in and out and leaving a cool trail in his wake.  Despite the gradually building pressure in his touch, it eased the burn of the kidou even as it stretched him open. Byakuya tried to tuck his chin beneath him, succeeding in tightening his ‘shock collar’ before Shunsui released him to fall back onto the bed. A current shot down his sternum and spread out over his chest as he swallowed against the tightness gripping his throat.

                Byakuya shuddered as the kidou flicked at his nipples, stinging and circling as they cinched down around them. He almost cried out- almost- as electricity arced over his chest and rendered them burning, erect peaks. He felt, more than heard, a laugh rumble up behind him, followed by the sharp sting of teeth sinking into his buttock.

                “Stubborn,” Shunsui declared into his backside as he found a new area to bite and suck to the point of bruising.

                “Controlling ass,” Byakuya hissed into the bedspread as barbs dug into his chest and earlobe.

                “So it seems.” Shunsui nibbled and slid another finger into him, spreading and rotating as he went.

                In a moment of weakness, Byakuya allowed his hips to twitch in futility. The kidou helix with a stranglehold on his erection constricted, and a new limb shot posteriorly to lift and separate his testicles in an instant. He grunted and gritted his teeth.

                Byakuya flexed and wriggled his fingers and toes, about the only movement he could make without consequences. Shunsui pressed a kiss to the small of his back and continued to pump his fingers in a steady rhythm. Deep within him the kidou snake continued to slither and coil, pulsing and expanding as if probing for something. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but the sensation was so foreign, so insistent that it was difficult to bear. Shunsui pressed his slippery fingers into the same area shortly thereafter and Byakuya jerked and gasped; his back arched as his bonds tightened and the kidou set his insides alight.

                “Just…please,” Byakuya whispered into the quilt. He was at a loss for what to do, what he was asking for, or how not to move and make things any worse.

                “Of course.”

                Shunsui shifted to leave a soft kiss on his hair. He withdrew his fingers to grab and knead Byakuya with both hands before spreading him open again. Shunsui leaned in without preamble and pressed forward until he could go no further, panting much like the man beneath him.

                Byakuya’s chest was heaving, even though every breath stung and pinched in a hundred places. The ache inside him threatened to burn, freeze and split him open all at once, and for some mindless reason he arched up into it with a shudder.

                “Oh…oh,” Shunsui groaned and let his head fall forward as he started to move.

                His arms and legs were shaking, but Byakuya did his best to rise and meet every thrust, to welcome the intrusion as best he could. It was too hot, too cold….Shunsui’s girth was too much, and yet it was just what was needed to counter the kidou that buzzed with counter pulsation and threatened to undo him completely.

                Shunsui leaned over him and pressed him deeper into the mattress, cutting off what little feeling Byakuya still had in his limbs. Shunsui reached beneath him to pluck at the fine glowing wires spread like a web over his groin; ripples of electric pleasure rolled up his cock, over his balls and circled his opening, making the sphincter twitch fitfully around Shunsui’s flesh.

                Shunsui loosed a guttural groan and ground into him once, twice before hitting his electrified prostate head-on. Byakuya could do nothing but let his fingers curl fitfully as Shunsui picked up the pace, rocking into him and shoving him in short strokes up the bed. He bit the quilt again, not at all surprised when the kido curled up over his chin to bite and sting at his lips and the tip of his tongue.

                Slowing and grinding into him again, Shunsui drove into him in cycles fast and slow until both were dripping with sweat and near their limits. The ubiquitous kido pulsed and buzzed in time with his heartbeat, and Byakuya had to wonder what would be left of him when it all finally burst. Right on cue, Shunsui slowed again and reached around to grasp his length and pump it with merciless strokes. Byakuya arched up and shook his head until the kido tightened to his liking and started to choke him.

                Byakuya gasped and stiffened, making Shunsui do likewise and spurring him back to action. Thrusting at breakneck speed, Shunsui worked his cock at the same pace and reached up to tug at Byakuya’s collar. Shunsui cursed softly as a ferocious new heat filled Byakuya, stealing the last of his breath. A burning pleasure-pain started at his navel, roared down to the base of his spine, then shot out over the flattened pillow and rumpled bedspread beneath him.

                Though a thousand splinters of electric heat stabbed into him and over him, Byakuya did not lose consciousness this time. The weight on his back increased momentarily, long enough to place a sloppy kiss on his neck, before backing away. He shivered at the loss of the warm body at his back, then shivered again as something damp sponged him off.

                Shunsui moved away again, leaving a trembling, hog-tied Byakuya alone on the bed.

                I’m not sure I can walk home like this, it occurred to Byakuya as his toes curled and cramped in the cooling night air. Though given the state of my clothes, perhaps shunpou…

                Sure, strong hands settled on his back as Shunsui materialized over him.

                “Easy now, I’ve got you,” Kyouraku murmured as he freed his right leg first, smoothing over the trembling limb and easing it on to the bed.

                As his other limbs were loosed in sequence, Byakuya found that the muscle quivering grew worse, as if he might shake apart with such careful handling. He buried his face in the patterned quilt, wondering when his humiliation would come to an end, when Shunsui towered over him again.

                “Easy,” Shunsui repeated as he hoisted Byakuya off the bed and pulled back the quilt in one fluid motion.

                No sooner had Byakuya laid his head on the pillow then the covers were over him and Kyouraku and his long, powerful limbs were surrounding him in a firm embrace. Rather than let him speak Shunsui kissed him, and Byakuya was only dimly aware of the hands that moved over him with a soft, green glow in their wake.

                Healing kidou?

                Whatever it was, it didn’t hold his attention long; Byakuya was finding that Shunsui’s touch was an effective remedy for thinking too much. Shunsui was rubbing his back and massaging the aching muscles in his forearms –Byakuya wasn’t quite sure what his own hands were doing at that moment, apart from soaking up the heat radiating from Shunsui’s chest.

                As their movements became slower and languorous, shadows crept in from the slumbering night to swirl around the hearth, dampening it to the point where it was naught but a pile of glowing embers. The candle likewise flickered and danced before snuffing out, and its smoke wafted through the room with the shadows that grew and stretched to cover the ceiling.

                Byakuya spared the shadows a lingering glance before closing his eyes, his head coming to rest on Shunsui’s chest with a sigh. Shunsui trailed one hand up his back and neck to tangle his fingers in Byakuya’s hair, which earned him another contented sigh. Wrapping his other arm securely around Byakuya’s waist, he kissed the top of Byakuya’s head and winked at the shadows creeping down the wall.

                At his command, the room went quiet and blissfully black.

Chapter Text

                Splashing one last handful of cold water onto his face, Byakuya made a blind reach for the towel to the side of the washbasin, but not before a trickle made it down his neck and into his collar. He sighed and brushed wet hair back from his forehead, making one last attempt to dry off before tossing the cloth aside and turning away.

                He moved away from his dressing table to stand and stare idly into the green expanse of garden beyond his bedroom, an orderly assortment of grass, shrubs and stone shrouded in thick mist. Bathing was a losing battle on steamy summer days such as this, humidity combining with sticky sweat to form a ubiquitous and unwelcome undergarment despite every effort to banish them. Byakuya eyed his yukata, cerulean blue cotton peppered with dark damp spots, and contemplated composing the evening’s letters and calligraphy in the buff.

                “I’ll not be emulating the Kenpachi,” he winced and turned away from the door, as a vision of the Eleventh’s captain and officers fighting, laughing and drinking themselves blind in the rain ran unbidden through his mind’s eye.

                He settled in at the low writing desk as the scent of mud, rain and rice wine came to life with the memory. Pulling himself out of his nostalgia, he noticed the bowl of cold barley tea that had appeared at his elbow and nodded, waving the servant away with thanks and a polite refusal of supper.

                It was, after all, too hot to eat.

                Or, you’re just not hungry for food.

It was no surprise, he decided, that his most unhelpful thoughts were spoken with Shunsui’s voice.  The man had a way of infiltrating Byakuya’s routine even when they scarcely saw each other, be it with nonsensical hell butterflies, kidou booby-traps  or the damned shadows that were continuously rearranging the books and furniture in his office.

                Byakuya opened a blank scroll with care, contemplating which brush to use. I’m not sure if I’m being pranked or courted, he smiled a bit as he selected a brush with a long, black lacquered stalk. And Renji seems to find it amusing that my office should be more chaotic than his own.

                As he reached for the inkstone, Byakuya froze as he felt a tug on his sleeve. I should be getting used to this, he decided as he looked around for Yachiru to no avail. He glanced at the tatami, then along the far corners of the expansive room. The shadows, for the time being, were behaving themselves.

                He began to prepare the ink as a cicada started its aria beyond the door, even as a whisper of a laugh – a woman’s laugh, low and throaty- floated in on the non-existent breeze. A moment later, the staccato giggle of a child followed, and the hair on his arms stood up straight.

                “A summons,” he surmised as his sleeve was tugged on again. He frowned at the tea, the parchment, and the situation but came to his feet anyway. Kyouraku had never employed this method of interruption before, and that in itself made him curious.

                Byakuya didn’t bother to summon his manservant, opting to dress himself in whatever kimono was closest, in this case indigo silk with an unusual silver grape and vine motif. No sense in making a fuss when it’s just as likely to be ripped off and tossed aside. The kenseikan he left in its cloisonné box on his dressing table, Senbonzakura likewise in an ornamental rack on the wall. He looked to his zanpakutou and its elaborately carved saya, expecting an affronted dismissal from the sword spirit. After a long moment, quiet approval brushed against his consciousness before falling silent.

                Curious.

                Rather than make his leisurely way through the manor, Byakuya stepped through the door to the gardens and leapt onto the roof with a burst of shunpou.

                Though no more curious than me running like an errand boy at his beck and call.

                He stood there for a moment at tree level and tried to sort out exactly where he was going. Byakuya was very perceptive when it came to reiatsu sensing…and his quarry was equally adept at masking his presence when it suited him. The nearby maple branches swayed in the stirring breeze, a hopeful sign of an upcoming rainstorm, when a sudden urge to go to the First Division hit him.

                “Very well,” Byakuya murmured to no one in particular and set off, alighting on roof tops and the occasional tree branch as he found his way into the heart of the Soul Society.

                It did not escape his notice that flirtatious feminine laughter answered him.

                Gray and green-tinted daylight still filtered through the oversized white halls of the First Division, though even that flickered and started to fade as the rainclouds closed in.

                Byakuya moved through the maze of halls without a sound. The rustle of fabric and creak of hinges greeted him at every set of tall, red doors in his path, though what stood out to him as he went was the pervasive mood of the place. It was hushed, somber even…though he could swear that more than one guard met his gaze with something like relief.

                There was no laughter nipping at his heels now.

                He peeked into the closet-cum-office that Shunsui had lately occupied only to find it empty and smelling of must. Turning and considering his options as the fusuma panel slid shut, he decided to look in the least likely place. Byakuya walked towards the former Head Captain’s office as an expectant silence closed in and grew nearly deafening as he approached. With his ears ringing and pulse inexplicably accelerating, he stepped towards the great red door.

                The paired doors swung open for him and he entered. Yamamoto’s office had always reminded him of Kuchiki manor, in that both were sprawling and sparsely furnished. The hulking red columns and bleak white walls only served to accentuate the echoing emptiness of the space, Byakuya decided as he entered the cavernous room. Were it not for the balcony affording a commanding view of the Seireitei, the ‘office’ would have little to differentiate it from the storage areas in the bowels of the Twelfth; the mere thought of the contents of said warehouses made him shiver and shelve the thought completely.

                Byakuya had made several strides into the room when he noticed the desk was vacant, the chair and wall hangings exactly as they were when Yamamoto Genryusai had commanded the Gotei Thirteen. He blinked at the office furniture when a gust of wind blew in, bringing with it the cloying odor of sake and fetid sweat. Turning to approach the balcony, he walked around a pillar and stopped in his tracks.

                Even at the Eleventh, he had never seen a pile of bottles, casks and barrels quite like this. Byakuya took a few moments to try and identify a feasible footpath through the rubble, swatting away flies as he surveyed the scene, before giving up and flash-stepping to balance on the railing of the balcony instead. In the far corner, surrounded by clay jars and masked by a sakkat, was slumped the long and snoring form of one Kyouraku Shunsui.

                Byakuya remained on his perch for a good minute, frozen in disbelief. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, forcing himself to relax the muscles of his shoulders and jaw. The wind picked up and carried with it the first few drops of rain, a few warm, fat droplets landing on his neck and back. He exhaled and leapt down, nudging a few bottles aside with his sandals so as to get closer to the Captain Commander.

                Shunsui continued to snore, even as the Kuchiki tipped back his hat and prodded at his hip with his waraji. Byakuya crossed his arms and stared at him as the rain began to pelt the tile roof in a steady rhythm. As Shunsui did not rise in response to the silent summons, Byakuya sighed and crouched down to lift one heavy arm over his own shoulder. He stood slowly and shifted the taller man so that his weight was evenly distributed over his back and shoulder. The scent of musk and unwashed man hit him hard and easily overpowered the sickly-sweet spirits that had been spilled hither and yon over the crowded floor.

                Byakuya frowned. Not at the older man’s weight, nor at the heavy rain and now-gusting wind that sprinkled his hair and clothing. Pressing his lips into a thin, humorless line, he exhaled sharply through his nose and decided where he…no, they, would go next, and vaulted over the balcony with Kyouraku slung over his shoulder.

                The journey back to the Kuchiki demesne went more quickly than Byakuya had expected – it was not the first time that anger lent him speed and strength. His indignation faded somewhat as he hauled his drunken colleague into his bedchamber – the capability and efficiency of his household staff never failed to impress. An extra futon had been placed perpendicular to his own bedding, and his manservant supplied a washbasin full of steaming water and a stack of clean linens before Byakuya even had time to remove his shoes. The servant stood at the ready, awaiting further instruction as they both looked down at the disheveled Kyouraku.

                “Leave us,” Byakuya decided. He toweled off his hair and eyed the comb and assorted soaps as the manservant bowed his way out of the room.

                Peeling off the outer, thoroughly soaked kimono and setting it aside, Byakuya knelt to plan his strategy. He pried off Shunsui’s sandals and tabi, which prompted said man to stir and giggle in his sleep.

                “Ticklish after all. Why am I not surprised?” Byakuya rolled his eyes and reached for Shunsui’s obi.

                “Hello, beautiful,” Shunsui slurred as his larger hand landed heavily on Byakuya’s.

                “You drunken fool,” Byakuya extricated himself and untied the knot, despite Shunsui’s help.

                An amused rumble escaped from Shunsui and he shifted until he was spread-eagle on the futon. “You sound much too serious for someone stripping me naked in a strange place.”

                “It is only strange to you. I happen to live here.” He shifted Shunsui this way and that, freeing one long, muscled arm from the sleeve of the soiled shikakushou. “When was the last time you bathed?”

                “Hard to say.” Shunsui rolled onto his side as Byakuya pulled off the rest of his top. “Nanao said something about trying not to drown myself…”

                “Indeed.” Byakuya folded the shitagi and started working at the hakama ties. “It seems that your lieutenant does, in fact, value your life.” He paused and frowned. “Why is it that you do not?”

                Byakuya had worked the hakama off and assumed, by the silence, that Kyouraku had passed out again. He gave the fundoshi a quick tug and startled when Shunsui spoke.

                “A man can only lose so much before he loses himself.”

                Shunsui rolled over, sighed heavily and resumed snoring.

                Byakuya let his hands curl and uncurl on his knees as wisps of steam rose up from the washbasin. He blinked at the water, exhaled, and went to work. He counted himself as fortunate that Shunsui slept soundly, as it made his task much easier. In fact, he found himself moving without thought, his hands following a routine he had performed countless times before.  The details were different, though, and Kyouraku posed challenges he’d never encountered before – the size of him, the thick, dark body hair that took much more water to rinse as one might expect- but in the end, a sponge bath was a sponge bath, and he considered himself something of an expert.

                He moved to the head of the futon and contemplated the last and most difficult task. Byakuya pulled out Shunsui’s hairpins and set them aside, untying the lopsided bow of his ponytail with a deft couple of tugs. Selecting a wide-toothed comb, he started a slow and careful incursion into Shunsui’s tangled and sweat-soaked curls. Hisana’s hair had been smooth and straight…and thin, by the end. He had learned to comb very gently indeed, so as to cause any more of her fine black hair to fall out.

                Byakuya looked down at the mahogany comb, at the still-glossy waves of Shunsui’s hair that cascaded over the pillow. Shunsui snored even more loudly on his back, but his face was slack and relaxed in sleep, his eyepatch askew. Byakuya repositioned it and began to dampen and shampoo Shunsui’s voluminous locks even as his throat grew tight.

                He was grateful that his hands knew what to do, that muscle memory could continue on heedless of the ache in his breast. Thunder rumbled behind him, over him, rattling the doors and the framed parchments on the wall. Lightning flashed soon after and filled the room with brilliant white light that flickered on and off while the storm raged on. Strobe lighting aside, Byakuya rinsed the hair as best he could, combing it out one last time as the rain grew heavier and the thunder eventually receded.

                Coaxing the slumbering Shunsui onto his side once more, Byakuya tied the man’s thick, wet hair back with a fresh tie. He didn’t feel quite as enthusiastic about cajoling the man into a fresh yukata, so he simply pulled the covers up to his shoulders and considered it settled. The bathing supplies were set aside before he had time to think about it, and Byakuya found himself standing and staring out at the gardens again, at a loss.

                Shunsui snorted, mumbled something in a baritone rumble, and snuggled further into the bed. Byakuya turned to watch him and the gentle rise and fall of his chest in sleep. It didn’t seem right to join him, and he was much too awake to make for his own bed. With one quick glance to his neglected writing desk he decided to sit at the edge of the futon, to watch the rain and wait for the old memories to subside into the storm.

                It was dark when he woke up with a stiff backside and a crick in his neck. Byakuya was about to lift his head from where it was pillowed on his now-numb forearms and bent knees when something moved in his hair.

                He froze.

                It wasn’t an insect, unless it was one with very…wide teeth…

                The comb continued to move through his hair in even strokes, gliding without resistance. Byakuya thought about moving, or at least shifting to see whether it was Shunsui or one of his disembodied emissaries. On further thought, he decided against it.

                Byakuya closed his eyes and let the rain lull him back to sleep.

Chapter Text

Penumbra, Chapter Five

                A pleasant din of shouted greetings and laughter infused the Sixth Division already basking in the late afternoon sun. Byakuya was making quick work of an imposing stack of papers, hand, brush, and ink moving as one over the plethora of forms and reports that threatened to take over his desk.

                “Hey, Taichou,” came Renji’s voice from the doorway as a mosaic of red and black leaned in to Byakuya’s peripheral  vision. “You about done?”

                “Yes, Abarai. And yourself?” Byakuya signed and stamped another page, his eyes briefly flicking up to meet Renji’s.

                “For once, yeah.” The way Renji scratched at his hair was at odds with his purposefully relaxed pose, arms crossed and shoulder propped against the doorjamb. “Sure you don’t wanna come?”

                “Quite. While I enjoy the company of yourself and Rukia, the karaoke bar and its infernal machine are something that I prefer remain a rare treat.”

                A chuckle escaped Renji, though his face was perfectly composed by the time Byakuya glanced at him again. “We’ll get you up on stage someday, Taichou. Can I bring you anything?”

                “Bring my sister home safely, Fukutaichou. That will be all.” He dismissed Renji with a nod of the head as he went back to work.

                Renji laughed, made a salute that seemed to be more of a wave and ambled down the hall.

                Seizing on the last ream of papers, Byakuya fell into an easy rhythm of scanning, editing and signing, so much so that it took him quite a while to notice the change in the background noise.  The steady stream of congenial voices had faded as twilight commenced, so that when a chorus of hails and shuffling feet sounded out, he set his brush down and stood to peer out the window.

                There was nothing unusual to note in the practice yard, yet the whole division seemed to fall silent.

                “Ah, there you are. You do work awfully long hours, Bya-kun.”

                “Is that so?” Byakuya turned to find Kyouraku Shunsui, clad in typical pink kimono and weathered sakkat, strolling into his office and whistling to himself. “I thought it typical to go home after one’s work is done, not before.”

                “Perhaps.” Shunsui stopped to run a finger down the spine of a thick tome on an upper bookshelf. “You do realize that your poor guards have to stay until you retire?”

                It occurred to Byakuya that the nearby sentries and unseated soldiers were being unusually quiet so as to be unobtrusive…and eavesdrop more effectively. “Good, then, that their schedule rotates so that no one individual is overly oppressed. Is there something I can be of help with, Kyouraku Soutaichou?”

                 “There are a number of things I had hoped to accomplish tonight, all of which would be impossible without you.”  Shunsui sauntered up and sat on the edge of the desk, fingers drumming on the tall tower of completed papers.  “But first, how about dinner?”

                Byakuya tilted his head and gave him a long look. “I suppose.”

                Shunsui ushered him out and gave an amicable wave to each and every shinigami they passed on the way out of the division, leaving just as the rear guard of daylight dipped below the horizon. “There’s something different about your office, yes?”

                “Be quiet.”

                “I hope you’re not upset that I came calling in person, Byakuya.” Shunsui moved close enough for their fingers to brush, though he subsequently tucked his hands into his sleeves.

                “Of course not,” Byakuya glanced at him before lifting his eyes to the darkening skies and the stars and planets just twinkling into view. “Unless you left any unpleasant surprises for my subordinates to deal with.”

                Kyouraku gave him a surprised look, which, in time, gave way to recognition. “Ah. Please don’t worry yourself on that account. Katen Kyoukotsu wouldn’t pursue the unwitting.”

                “Is it typical for them to…” Byakuya didn’t intend to trail off, but words did not well encapsulate what he had experienced.

                “The ladies do adhere to a code, and they follow the rules of their games without fail,” Shunsui guided him through an intersection and onto a quiet, tree-lined lane. “In most circumstances they prefer that their fellow players actually know the rules, though.”

                This is a game? He didn’t react when Shunsui put an arm around him. They had left the mercantile district behind, the homes growing grander and further removed from the road as they went. It may be a failure of my imagination, but I can’t say that I’ve seen any discernible pattern or objective. Perhaps this, too, is a game.

                “Relax,” Kyouraku whispered and squeezed his shoulder. “They mean you no harm. If anything, they’re fond of you and have limited means to show it.”

                Crickets and cicadas filled the silence between them as they neared the traditional Kyouraku manor and its extensive, manicured gardens.

                “I suppose none of this is what you expected.” Shunsui opened the gate and they entered the walled estate. The clack of a shishi-odoshi, the bustle of servants and warm light spilling out into the garden beckoned them in.

                  Byakuya allowed himself to be swept up in a kiss as they stood on the stone footpath. “You may be many things, but predictable is not among them.”

                The stars were bright and brilliant that night under the auspices of a new moon. The songbirds and cicadas, bold and brazen by day, had retired and crickets took up a song in their place, the occasional rustle of leaves their accompaniment. From his position on the apex of the half-moon bridge over the koi pond, the only man-made light that Byakuya could see was the walkway lantern that the servants had thoughtfully dimmed after their dinner.

                Though the air was thick with jasmine, a different type of floral bouquet wafted his way every time Shunsui spoke. As if reading his thoughts, Kyouraku extended a daintily painted porcelain cup and held it beneath his nose.

                “Plum wine, older than your sister- you really must try it.” Shunsui’s eyes twinkled even in the star-speckled darkness; the remainder of the Captain Commander was still swathed in the shadow of the opposite railing against which he leaned. Tall as he was, his long legs spanned the width of the bridge and nudged against Byakuya’s side at regular intervals.

                Byakuya sniffed it, a wholly unnecessary gesture given the potency of Shunsui’s breath. “Perhaps later,” he set is aside, balancing it on one of the red painted beams that made of up walkway of the bridge.

                “While we’re on that topic,” Shunsui drained and placed his own cup on the nearby tray, “I believe I have a yukata to return to you.”

                “Ah.” The garment came to mind, gray striped and belonging to his uncle. Byakuya had rarely seen it and had never worn it, as it was several sizes too big for him.

                “Gauging from the detritus I left in my division, I probably owe you an apology as well.” Kyouraku traced the wine bottle with his fingertip, but made no move to pour himself more.

                “How much do you remember?”

                “Remarkably little; I’ve not been that drunk since my Academy days.” Shunsui toyed idly with his cup. “Though I’ve been able to fill in a few of the details.”

                “I see.” Byakuya scanned the heavens and settled on a constellation to analyze. He was at no loss for the details of said evening, but had no intention of discussing them.

                “I believe I’ve offended you,” Shunsui stated, tone as neutral as ever.

                “Not exactly.” The Kuchiki kept his gaze on the stars while he considered his words. “You would hardly be the first to drink yourself into oblivion.”

                The crickets filled the gap between them as a soft breeze blew, then subsided into the darkness.

                “I will gladly help those in need,” Byakuya went on after a while as he turned his gaze towards his companion, “but I will not make a habit of caring for those who will not care for themselves.”

                Shunsui hummed and shifted, lacing his fingers together behind his head and leaning back to better watch the sky. “Why did you come to me?”

                Byakuya didn’t have time to reply before Shunsui spoke again. “Not the drunken disaster night – I’m assuming my zanpakutou beckoned you then.”

                Choosing to remain silent, Byakuya straightened and stretched his legs in parallel with Shunsui’s- the bridge was not a very forgiving surface.

                “Reports and bribes aside,” the Captain Commander clarified as he poured himself another drink, “Why did you seek me out in my office?”

                Byakuya felt the sudden urge to stand so he went with it, stretching a bit more and turning away to look over the starlit koi pond. The lily pads and lotus blossoms swayed and swirled slightly as tiny bubbles appeared and evaporated in the otherwise smooth surface of the water.

                “Shortly after my wife died, Ukitake-taichou began to visit the Kuchiki estate once a week to picnic in the gardens. I knew it wasn’t coincidental, but otherwise I didn’t think too much of it- I was simply grateful that unlike my other visitors and well-wishers, it demanded little to none of my time.”

                There was a rustle and snap in the branches of a maple tree overhead. Byakuya glanced in the general direction of the disturbance, but the dark obscured any details from his view. “I only attended him a couple of times – my grandfather had insisted that to do otherwise would reflect badly on the family. I barely spoke and did not eat, but simply sat there stewing in my thoughts until I could make an excuse to leave.”

                The only response from Kyouraku was the soft shifting of silk and the occasional clink of glass and porcelain. Byakuya did not turn to look – the stars seemed a more receptive audience.

                “He tried something similar after Rukia’s arrest, though I was just as oblivious and unreceptive. I went to see him after returning from Hueco Mundo, but like most lessons from Sempai, I grasped it far too late.”

                A sudden weight settled on his shoulders; Byakuya glanced down at the large, hairy hands smoothing over his haori. He hadn’t realized how cool the night had become until Shunsui pressed against his back, his broad chest radiating warmth.

                “That’s enough,” Kyouraku whispered into his hair as he slid his arms around Byakuya. “He wasn’t the type to keep score.”

                Fighting the instinct to freeze, Byakuya calmed himself by force of will until his pulse slowed and their breathing fell into synchrony. In time he fully relaxed into the embrace, his head coming to rest against Shunsui as his arms draped themselves over those encircling his waist.

                “Your story seems plausible, though I have to wonder,” Kyouraku murmured, his breath tickling Byakuya’s temple as they watched the play of insects along the water. “Is it a sense of obligation that keeps you here?”

                “Nothing so virtuous.” Byakuya admitted as his eyelids grew heavy; the combined aromas of plum wine and Shunsui were proving an effective soporific.

                “Oh, I like the sound of that.” Shunsui chuckled, sending vibrations rumbling along Byakuya’s spine. “Do tell.”

                Unable to keep his eyes open, Byakuya still scowled ineffectually into the darkness. “Up until the reclamation of the soul palace, I’d never before been a witness to your sword release.”

                Though I had imagined it many times, he mused to himself; the wishes and wanderings of an adolescent mind were not something to speak of, though, even in the thick of the night.

                “Sheer power aside,” the Kuchiki’s jaw tightened, as if reliving the bone-jarring blast that threatened to shake the palace apart, “it was the flavor of your reiatsu that caught my attention.”

                “Flavor?”

                “Like the smoke of cedar incense searing your mouth as electricity arcs over your tongue,” was the best description Byakuya could produce, as annoyed as he was with himself for voicing the odd sensation. “It tasted of…rage, of pain long held in check and released with unerring precision.”

                In that moment, I realized that we were very much alike, and that you are much more capable of schooling your emotions than I will ever be. He was vaguely aware that Shunsui’s hands were moving over him, that his own hands hung limply at his sides. And as much as I admire your control, it is the loss of it that I find…exhilarating…

                “And now that you’ve had more than a taste, why is it that you remain?” Shunsui stepped away to fold something with care, something that turned out to be Byakuya’s haori, much to his surprise.

                “I…” Byakuya faltered as the kenseikan’s many chains and clasps were loosened and removed from his hair with efficiency. “I am not in the habit of shying away from a challenge.”

                “Nor do you seem overly concerned with self-preservation.” Kyouraku’s voice was but a growl threatening his ear.

                “You have little room to talk,” Byakuya intended to sound sharp with disapproval, though his words were disconcertingly breathless as they floated into the night air.

                “But I will speak, and you are going listen.” Shunsui pulled him close with a possessive grip, his hands delving in to Byakuya’s uniform without ado. “The magnanimous, easygoing Captain of the Eighth is gone, though few know and even fewer care. Unlike my zanpakutou, I’m inclined to ignore the rules and do what I damned well please.”

                Shunsui’s grim, bitter tone was at complete odds with the way he nuzzled Byakuya’s hair.

                “Yama-jii was disciplined, resolute in every sense for as long as I knew him. Ukitake, for being such an unrepentant busybody, was every bit as upright, but so generous and compassionate that you just couldn’t fault him for it.” Shunsui tightened his grip, trapping him in an iron embrace. “The best part of me died with them. Are you sure that you want to deal with the leftovers?”

                He should be wary, Byakuya decided, apprehensive even, but it was indignation that bubbled up out of his depths and flushed his cheeks. “Fool,” he hissed over his shoulder, “who do you think you are talking to? We are nothing but the refuse of our grief.”

                Shunsui grunted and stepped in, pinning him to the railing and restraining his upper body with an arm over his chest. He grabbed Byakuya’s jaw and wrenched it to the side before crushing their mouths together. Byakuya shifted and his nascent hardness nudged the baluster before him – he wanted to move away, to relieve the cramp in his neck or the skin that stung from the friction of Shunsui’s beard, but there was no escape- and with that realization he grew even harder. Likewise, Shunsui was slowly rocking against him, his jutting erection poking Byakuya in the hip.

                All of a sudden, Byakuya found that his arms were no longer pinned to his sides, that he could draw breath without choking on someone else’s tongue. The reprieve was brief, though, and his head was wrenched back by a vice-like grip in his hair.

                “Move only as I say.” Shunsui turned Byakuya’s head to face him to make the point. He stole another kiss and punctuated it with a tug.

                Unlike his haori, the remainder of Byakuya’s uniform was removed without ceremony and left crumpled at his feet. Though the wind did not stir, Byakuya shivered anyway, clad in only his fundoshi, tabi and waraji in the dead of night. He shivered again as Shunsui’s hand swept over his hip and trailed along his ribcage to come to rest around his neck.

                “You’ll tell me if there’s pain that is more than you can bear,” Shunsui commanded as he gently squeezed his throat. “Make whatever noise you need to, but know that there will be consequences if you stifle yourself.”

                Byakuya leaned in to the grip on his neck and flushed with shame as his heart rate accelerated. Rather than remove his fundoshi, Shunsui seized the end of the cloth and pulled it even tighter, lifting his scrotum and producing delicious friction against his rigid and already leaking erection. A groan escaped him as fully-clothed Kyouraku ground against him and increased the pressure on his airway.

                “Yes, that’s it,” Shunsui licked the shell of his ear after nibbling on the lobe. Releasing his neck and giving his cock a squeeze, Shunsui rested his bristly cheek against Byakuya’s. “Put your hands on the railing,” he rumbled.

                The Kuchiki complied. He didn’t even shudder when Shunsui did away with his fundoshi, but he did when the man leaned forward and gave a good, long lick to the damp spot that had formed on the silk.

                “Time for more wine.” Kyouraku might have grinned, though the deepening darkness made it impossible to tell.

                Even had Shunsui been more explicit, it wouldn’t have prepared Byakuya for the shock of chilled liquid trickling down his back and into the cleft between his buttocks.

                “I told you this was a vintage to be savored,” Shunsui chuckled and moved to stand behind him, completely out of sight. “Spread your legs and bend over.”

                Byakuya let himself be pushed forward until his chest met the railing. Shunsui was kind enough to free his legs of his shed clothing and position him to his liking, while all Byakuya could do was try to remember to breathe. The wine left tingling trail in its wake that began to burn the longer it remained; a few drops made it to his scrotum and fell down to splatter on the floor boards of the bridge.

                Shunsui slid his fingertips along the outside of Byakuya’s legs and thighs, his touch light enough to leave gooseflesh in his wake. Giving Byakuya’s hips a light squeeze, Shunsui gripped his buttocks firmly and spread them apart.

                Byakuya grit his teeth; he’d never been penetrated without at least cursory preparation, but he was confident he could withstand the pain. What he didn’t count on was the wet, slick heat that swept over and around his opening, and he cried out in surprise.

                Kyouraku had the gall to laugh, his breath searing Byakuya’s wine-soaked perineum. He flicked the tip of his tongue and snorted when Byakuya tried to writhe out of his grasp.

                “Consequences,” Shunsui rasped and bit him, teeth sinking in to the globe of flesh that was his left cheek.

The scent of wine drifted past him again; Byakuya held his breath as he was breeched by something with cold fire in its wake. It wriggled and curled and stabbed into him without mercy, each slick thrust stretching and burning and agonizing and amazing.

                And then a hand landed on the bite with a good amount of force, a hint of crackling reiatsu and a resounding smack!

                Byakuya wanted to think that the sound reverberating off the roof tiles was something other than his voice, but Shunsui prodded him and curled the tip of his tongue just so, and some new, shameful noise erupted from his throat and out into the open.

                “Stop, please,” Byakuya whispered to the distorted reflection staring back at him from the pond.

                “Is that what you really want?” Nails raked down his thighs.

                “I don’t know,” he admitted into the railing as his fingertips dug into the wood.

                “Am I hurting you?” Shunsui licked his way up from the back of Byakuya’s knee to the top of his thigh.

                “Not nearly enough.”

                “Does this help?” Shunsui spanked him again with another mighty blow that made his back arch and loosed his tongue.

                “Yes, damn you.” Byakuya’s voice nearly broke as he collapsed against the railing again. “Spare me the questions and just get on with it.”

                “Now, now,” Shunsui tutted as his hand collided with Byakuya’s perineum and both buttocks. “Let’s not forget who’s in charge here.” He licked a slow path along the cleft, somehow making the skin sting all the more.

                Byakuya’s breath- and most of his sense- left him as Shunsui continued to tickle him with his tongue while spanking his thighs and flanks at odd intervals. He felt himself getting close, balls tightening with no small amount of urgency, when Shunsui suddenly pulled away, leaving him cursing and panting as quietly as he could manage.

                “You’re exquisite like this, frustrated and struggling,” Kyouraku whispered and swept away the hair that clung to his neck to plant a kiss there.

                There was rustling and fumbling behind him, and the potent scent of the plum wine washed over Byakuya’s heightened senses again.

                “These probably weren’t meant to be mixed,” Shunsui muttered and grabbed his hip, steadying him. “It should suffice, though.”

                Shunsui pressed a couple of fingers into him and set to work as his insides grew chilled, then warm, then scalding.

                “What did you do?” Byakuya hissed as he tried to get away, though he ended up leaning back into Shunsui instead.

                “I added a bit of wine to the lube,” Kyouraku purred into his ear as his fingers spread him open. “I figured you’d prefer that to getting the remainder, bottle and all.”

                You wouldn’t, Byakuya started to say, but enough uncertainty peppered his thoughts to help him hold his tongue.

                “Don’t worry,” Shunsui slid his free hand up Byakuya’s torso and settled into his hair with a firm grip. “The only thing that’ll be inside you anytime soon is me.”

                Byakuya groaned when Shunsui finally entered him, and his voice seemed to leak out with every thrust thereafter. They were a tight fit under ideal circumstances, and with the evening’s turn of events he felt sure that he would split open before Shunsui was through with him; he was aching already, even though Kyouraku had set a gentle pace, and he couldn’t help but twitch and cramp around the rigid heat spearing him incessantly.

The wooden railing, which had seemed so cool and smooth earlier in the evening, scratched his chest and rubbed his nipples raw as he was pushed and pulled over the grain. Shunsui let go of his hair and his head fell forward into a helpless sway that made the starlit bridge and water below dance in a dizzying display; he had to close his eyes to keep his stomach from rebelling against the motion. Ignorant- or indifferent- to his plight, Shunsui grabbed his hips hard and sped up to a dizzying pace before coming to an abrupt halt.

                “Not…yet,” Shunsui rasped, sounding as strained and breathless as Byakuya felt. “Not yet.”

                Though they had slowed to a standstill, Kyouraku had swelled within him and delved into every sensitive spot just so. He wedged a hand between Byakuya and the railing and pulled him upright, so that Byakuya’s back was flush against his chest; Shunsui kept him pinned there as his hand curled around Byakuya’s purpling manhood.

                “Go ahead,” Shunsui murmured and stroked him once, twice, thrice in succession.

                Byakuya opened his eyes in time to see his release shoot away from him, up over the railing and land in the pond below with a plop. The next sound to register was Shunsui’s breath quickening in his ear as warmth blossomed within him. They stood there, chests heaving and eyes registering little. Byakuya swallowed and stumbled a bit as Shunsui tugged at him, walking them backwards and collapsing onto the floorboards in a sweaty heap, still connected. The crickets grew louder, or perhaps the blood rushing through his ears was starting to slow, and he shivered from the sweat cooling on his skin.

                Shunsui pulled something black, grey and vaguely flowery over them that fluttered up before clinging to Byakuya’s clammy skin. The Captain Commander’s shihakushou likewise adhered to his back as he shifted in Shunsui’s lap with what dignity he could muster. Byakuya was just about to allow his eyes to close when soft green light sprung up beneath his kimono-turned-blanket and cast shadowy stripes and shapes over the bridge.

                “Don’t.” Byakuya grasped Shunsui’s wrists and held them to his chest, arresting the healing kidou before it could take effect.

                “Why?” Shunsui brushed his lips along Byakuya’s neck with a feather-light touch.

                “If you feel the need to apologize, make your apology.” Byakuya tilted his head to expose more of his throat. “Otherwise save your healing for incapacitating injuries.”

                “Why?” Kyouraku repeated into the pale, taut skin over his clavicle.

                “It will make the morning less surreal.”

                “Hnnh.” Shunsui freed himself from Byakuya’s grip and wrapped his arms around the Kuchiki’s narrow waist.

                Enough time passed that Byakuya’s mind started to wander. He was determined not to fidget but his toes were getting cold, despite being enveloped in the cocoon of Shunsui’s body heat.

                “Is that something you anticipate?” Shunsui’s abrupt question seemed deafening in the stillness of the atrium’s garden. “Incapacitating injuries?”

                Byakuya cleared his throat. “There is a…distinction to be made, I suppose, between expecting such a thing…and knowing it is possible.”

                And something horribly perverse about being excited by the prospect, Byakuya decided as he flushed with shame. There was a tickle in his throat, but he refused to even consider coughing again, or revealing any other hint of his discomfiture.

                Shunsui responded by tucking Byakuya’s feet into the folds of his loosened hakama while tightening his embrace. “It’s funny how the most repugnant ideas can also be quite titillating.”

                He couldn’t help but cough then, but Byakuya was grateful for the reprieve from the conversation, however fleeting. This time, when Shunsui offered him a cup of wine, he accepted it with a nod of gratitude.

                “I want you to know,” Shunsui began as Byakuya finished his drink, “that you are not alone when it comes to finding release in the balance of restraint and disarray. It’s a high, and unimaginable high to take control of you and your pleasure, but at the same time, knowing that things could get ugly with the tiniest misstep…”

                Shunsui sighed and let his head fall back against the baluster with a thud. Byakuya found Shunsui’s hand and squeezed it before shifting and lifting his hips, finally separating himself from Shunsui’s flaccid member.

                “We’re making a mess of your uniform,” Byakuya decided that a change of topic was in order.

                Kyouraku laughed and patted his hand. “I should certainly hope so; that’s what comes with proceeding with all due haste.”

                It was only then that Byakuya turned his attention to his own clothing…or, to be more precise, the floorboards of the bridge where his uniform had been.

                He blinked. “Did-?”

                “No, we didn’t kick your clothes into the pond, though it wasn’t for lack of trying,” Shunsui was still chuckling to himself. “I believe your secret admirers squirreled your uniform away, probably to my chambers.”

                “Oh.”

                “Amateur mistake, thinking that would be enough to keep you here had you decided against it.” Somehow, Shunsui managed to stand up while scooping up Byakuya’s legs behind the knee.

                “It will take more than that to dupe me into naked shunpou, you old lecher,” Byakuya frowned, though the corner of his mouth betrayed a mutinous twitch.

                Shunsui let loose another rumbling laugh and took off with Byakuya in his arms.

                Illuminated only with starlight that twinkled and dimmed with the passing clouds, the half-moon bridge stood deserted, save for a tray of scattered porcelain cups and an empty bottle of wine.

Chapter Text

Penumbra, Chapter Six

***

“When the Flower Wind Rages, the Flower God Roars. When the Wind of Heaven Rages, the God of the Underworld Sneers.”

***

                Awash in the cool light of the early morning, the office was redolent of strong tea and freshly prepared ink. Byakuya paused on the threshold, nominally to admire the hanging scrolls and the way they framed the white and pale-purple lilies on the weathered desk – such harmonious tranquility was a rare thing, and for it to dwell in a workspace, all the more unusual.

                “Good morning, Kuchiki-taichou.” Ise Nanao glanced up from her work, though her brush never stopped moving over the parchment beneath. “He should still be passed out on the roof of the western wall.”

                “Ah.” It didn’t take much effort to hear the Captain Commander’s snores echoing off the stern white edifices of the First Division’s barracks. “In truth, I have come to seek an audience with you, Ise-fukutaichou.”

                At that, her hand stilled. The carefully composed young woman had the presence of mind to set the brush aside before any stray drops of ink could mar her work, however, and she blinked at him with expectant, wide indigo eyes.

                “While I am loathe to add to your burdens, I find myself in need of your help.”

                Nanao straightened her already-centered eyeglasses and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

                “More specifically, the Sixth Division will be in want of a proficient kidou instructor. I have engaged my sister and Hinamori-fukutaichou to lead drills one afternoon a month,” as well as Yamada-san to round out the lessons with healing kidou, though I’m not sure I wish to make that widely known just yet. “I was hoping that you could lend your considerable talents to the task, if it is not too much of an imposition.”

                It might have been his imagination, but Nanao’s carefully composed expression seemed in danger of being overtaken by a smile.

                “Were it anyone but Abarai, I might think you were overreacting,” she pronounced with a faint smirk. “That said, it wouldn’t do to have the whole squad suffer the consequences. One half day a month, you say?”

                Byakuya nodded, the fine chains of the kenseikan shifting and clinking with the movement.

                “Consider it done – it’ll be a welcome respite from paperwork.” Nanao relaxed her posture a bit and indicated the chair opposite hers as she moved to pour the tea.

                 Though he hadn’t intended to linger, the delicious vapors escaping from the bright green brew made it impossible to refuse the offered hospitality. His chilled fingers curled round the cup and he stifled a contented sigh in favor of addressing his host. “What can I offer you in return?”

                The Kuchiki had a number of things in mind, but frankly didn’t know the First’s fukutaichou well enough to proceed without the risk of giving offence.

                “That won’t be necessary,” Nanao flashed him an unequivocal smile before she sipped her tea. “Let’s just say that the situation of this division has improved a great deal in recent weeks, and that I’m aware of whom we owe our thanks.”

                Byakuya became aware of heat creeping up his chest and neck – he decided to blame it on the sunlight slipping in through the window and sampled his tea with utter composure.

                “I suppose this means you’ve come to a decision.”

                “It does,” he acknowledged, grateful for the shift in topic.

                “I’m sorry to hear that, though I can’t say I’m surprised,” Nanao went on, her gaze falling upon the exquisite ikebana arrangement on her desk. “Your timing is as impeccable as ever.”

                “How so?”

                “At long last, there will be a Captains’ Meeting tonight.”

                “I see.” He set his cup aside.

                “Shall I add this to the agenda?”

                “There are a few more conversations I might have before setting the rumor mill abuzz,” Byakuya decided and stood.

                “Very well.” Nanao stood as well and walked him to the door, bowing cordially. “Do let me know if I can be of any help. You are always welcome.”

                With a quick inclination of his head he stepped into the hallway, though he made it ten paces further before an odd sound slowed his progress and drowned out his footfalls. An extraordinarily loud snore, punctuated by a snort and a whistled exhalation, rang out and reverberated between the nearby buildings and through the open window. Rather than roll his eyes, Byakuya shut them, shook his head and made his way through the sunlit hall.

                The sun had long since set as the Captains’ meeting stretched on, though the slatted windows afforded only a hint of the evening breeze blowing outside.

                Byakuya let his attention drift in and out of the conversation, which had stalled at the distribution of recent academy graduates amongst the decimated ranks of the Gotei Thirteen. He found himself more interested in the reactions of the new captains, those flanking him included, than the content of the debate ricocheting around the hall.

                To think that I would come to be one of the senior captains, he mused as Hirako-taichou murmured something that made the diminutive Histugaya-taichou’s eyebrow twitch, whilst centuries younger and less experienced than Ojii-sama…it boggles the mind…

                Byakuya allowed himself a sigh, which thankfully was drowned out by the bored huff- or was it a snore? – that erupted from the hulking Kenpachi across the way. Zaraki met his gaze with a crinkle of his golden eye as his mouth twitched into a maniacal grin, his hand patting the tsuka of his ragged blade in invitation.

                …though some things haven’t changed at all.

                “Then it’s settled,” the Captain Commander broke into his musings with a clap of his hands, silencing the conversation without raising his voice a bit. “Submit your requests to Nanao-chan and recruits will be assigned accordingly. Moving on to officer promotions.”

                A new chorus of voices bubbled up, and the stoic Kuchiki found himself stifling a smile. While Kyouraku-taichou might come across as less gruff and authoritarian than his esteemed predecessor, and more likely to be amused by the squabbling of his subordinates, he tended to settle conflicts and circuitous arguments in an equally definitive fashion.

                His manner, though, Byakuya took in the well-worn flowery pink kimono, the sing-song baritone that once held nothing but irritation for him. Shunsui cloaks himself with indolence just as Aizen wore a façade of studious benevolence, he decided with a frown at the Soutaichou’s eyepatch, but the traitor didn’t simply rely on the illusion to mask his ambitions, he relished the deception for its own sake. Shunsui, though…the easygoing persona is more a matter of discipline, both for his benefit and of those around him.

                The clan regalia woven into his hair and along his neck grew heavier at the thought.

                Byakuya chided himself and quietly cleared his throat as the conversation lulled. He felt the weight of an intent stare settle on him, and he looked up to find the Captain Commander watching him.

                The time had come.

                “I wish to nominate Abarai Renji to the rank of Captain,” he heard himself say in his usual monotone.

                A moment of complete silence followed.

                “I second.” Rukia spoke for the first time that evening, her voice small but steady as it rang out from the end of the line of captains opposite.

                He sought out his sister and she met his gaze with her big, earnest eyes. Rukia nodded, even as she pressed her lips together.

                Thank you, Rukia. You have never wavered, even when I was racked with uncertainty.

                I will miss you terribly.

                “Heh, why not,” the Kenpachi cackled and grinned at the Kuchiki siblings. “Meetings won’t be such a fucking drag.”

                Taking that as an official endorsement, Kyouraku bowed his head, though his eye remained fixed on Byakuya. “There we have it. Inform Abarai-fukutaichou to prepare himself for the Captain’s Exam.”

                As if he hasn’t been for years, Byakuya kept to himself and inclined his head.

                “For what purpose?” Soi-Fon piped up, the wiry woman’s tone less hostile than curious as she took a visual inventory of the thirteen assembled officers.

                “For the spot opening up at the Sixth, of course,” Hirako Shinji turned his knowing, angular smirk towards Byakuya. “Looks like someone finally decided to accept his promotion.”

                As the conversation devolved into exclamations and chaos again, the words became blurred and indistinct as the cries of the crickets and katydids outside. As he returned Shunsui’s stare, however, the only sound that reached Byakuya’s ears was a deep, growling laugh.

                It was a dense, pervasive darkness, a void that extinguished not only light but the memory of what went before.

                At least, that was what Byakuya told himself as he cast about disoriented in the gloom. Humid air clung to him like a damp cloak, heavy with the scent of midnight blooms and fresh-turned soil. Though sure he was surrounded by water, he could not hear a single ripple or drip, nor a splash underfoot as he moved forward…or was he standing still? The more he considered his circumstances, the less confident he was of being physically present in the otherworldly place.

                A gust blew up from behind, swirling around him and scattering into the dark, carrying with it a familiar floral fragrance.

                Cherry blossoms…

                Senbonzakura?

                Innumerable blades hummed and sang as they fanned around him, a comforting presence in an otherwise alien landscape. Even so, Byakuya found himself straining his senses, trying to determine if it was truly the zanpakutou spirit that he heard.

                Or is my imagination filling in the blanks? The emptiness of this place seems absolute.

                A thundering laugh bubbled up from all sides and set his solar plexus abuzz. He froze.

                “Are you sure of this emptiness?”

                I am sure of nothing, he admitted, dismayed by his smallness when compared to the preternatural rumbling still ringing in his ears.

                “That is wise,” the voice purred as it drew closer.

                The timbre of the voice was as unsettling to Byakuya as the stygian setting: neither female nor male, not deep as much as vast, seemingly omnipresent…and vaguely familiar.

                “Have you worked it out yet?” The voice laughed against his neck. Moist warmth trailed up along his ear and set off a full-body shudder, which only made the laughter grow louder.

                This is more vivid than any dream, which must mean-

                How did I come to be here?

                “By invitation, of course,” his host rasped, stirring his hair forward to cover the right half of his face. “It was good of you to finally acquiesce, little lord.”

                At a loss for words, he remained motionless as the voice moved over him, and his own heartbeat grew louder as it thumped and thudded against his ribs. Something crept over his shoulders, encircled wrists and ankles alike, and wrapped around his waist leaving a cool, tingling sensation in its wake.

                “Shunsui’s been so stingy with his toys,” the voice pulled back to settle on his shoulder, amused.

                Byakuya stiffened reflexively, though whatever had ensnared his limbs did not loosen its grip.

                “Oh, is the pretty little doll offended?” The pressure around his waist wound down around his hips and punctuated the phrase with a squeeze.

                If that is truly your measure of me, why bother to bring me here?

                The voice chuckled, a partly-sensuous, partly-threatening rasp that set gooseflesh prickling down his neck and back. “Our agreement is longstanding and sealed by oaths of words and blood.  Whatever he may claim, we will have our share.”

                A thousand questing fingertip-tongues spiraled up his arms and legs, prodding, tickling and tasting with needle-like pincers. The things swarming over him in the darkness left stinging pinpoints in their wake, and Byakuya kept silent as his blood blossomed from the tiny, multitudinous wounds.

                “Young, delicate this one,” the voice mused as its minions slithered under his arms and snaked around his upper thighs. “Mmh…”

                He couldn’t stifle a gasp as sharp, searing pain pierced his underarms and both sides of his groin, allowing arctic energy to flow into his veins and rush towards his chest. Byakuya bit his tongue hard to avoid any further sound of distress to escape him as the chill entered his heart, gripped his lungs and was subsequently pumped out to invade the rest of his being in icy waves. He shivered and tensed as his lips and tongue went numb.

                “Yes, that’s it,” a pleased purr licked up his neck and along his ear. “Struggling makes it even more…”

                Byakuya tried to dismiss the panic rising in him by closing his eyes, but they were frozen open.

                “…delicious…”

                The voice was still laughing into his ear, but the roar of blood- near frozen as it was – drowned out all else as even sound fell away.

                When he came to, Byakuya was dismayed but not surprised that he couldn’t move.

                 It was the rumpled sheet before his eyes that convinced him that his current bondage was of a different, less malicious sort, and made a deep breath and a slight slowing of his pulse possible. Byakuya relaxed a bit into the bed as something hairy, panting and damp with sweat kissed its way up his back, lingering with a sloppy press of lips behind his ear. A contented rumble tickled his earlobe as Shunsui slipped a hand between Byakuya’s hip and the bed to curl around his sex.

                The hand stilled, and Byakuya swallowed against a parched throat.

                Shunsui said nothing as he moved away. He returned some moments later, dragging a wet cloth over Byakuya’s back and thighs before untying the silk rope that lashed Byakuya’s right ankle to the bed. The Kuchiki likewise remained silent as he shifted his hips and flaccid organ, refusing to shiver as the sweat cooled his skin. Kyouraku kept his touch light and careful as he traced the ligaments of the joint with his fingertips and a kidou spell.

                “Are you all right?” Shunsui freed his left ankle and eased the aching in his foot.

                “Yes.”

                “Did they hurt you?”

                Byakuya pressed his face into the sheets and blinked. “I’ve had worse.”

                Closing his eyes, he reached out to Senbonzakura, who answered immediately with a whisper of relief, distress and more than a bit of indignant possessiveness.

                “I’m not sure if I should be relieved or horrified,” Kyouraku held his hand as he freed the wrist, pausing to rub his thumb over the back of Byakuya’s narrow, white fingers. “While I’m probably culpable on some level, what transpired was not done on my orders.”

                “I see.” He turned his head to look up at Shunsui, who remained kneeling at his side while holding his hand. Byakuya took his time to choose his words with care. “If you will pardon my saying so, your relationship strikes me as…unusual.”

                 Shunsui cocked his head to the side slightly as a grin stole over his face. “Your composure never ceases to amaze me.”

                Byakuya shrugged, a completely ineffectual gesture as both arms were still restrained. It couldn’t be helped if he felt less vulnerable trussed up naked in Kyouraku’s bed than in the demonic embrace of his zanpakutou.

                “You’re right, of course,” Shunsui stretched across him to free the other hand. “Katen Kyoukotsu is but one aspect of the spirit, the one most similar to a true zanpakutou.”

                Rather than leave him prone on the bed, Shunsui swept him up and settled Byakuya’s head on his chest as he leaned against the wall. “Should they ever tire of me, I’m confident they will continue to exist long after I’ve entered the cycle of rebirth.”

                Senbonzakura whispered to him then, a soft caress of reassurance, before settling into silence again. Byakuya, momentarily at a loss for words, brushed his lips against Shunsui’s collarbone and sighed. “I had wondered, briefly, if it was some sort of retaliation for my announcement.”

                “Were that the case, I would have taken more direct measures,” Shunsui lifted his chin and delved into his mouth, kissing him long enough to steal his breath. “However, I can’t really say that I was surprised.”

                “Oh?” Byakuya wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, dignity forfeited for the sake of expediency.

                “My hunch was confirmed when the Zero Squad came to fetch you. Long before that, however,” Shunsui pulled a large, green bottle out of nowhere and took a swig, “I had my suspicions that you were not really intended for the Seireitei.”

                Byakuya arched an eyebrow at him.

                “I’m not being poetic, dear. Anyone who’s seen your Hakuteiken and really thought about it could piece it out,” he pecked the Kuchiki on the tip of his nose. “It’s completely incongruous to the rest of your bankai. And absolutely stunning.”

                Laying his head back on Shunsui’s muscular shoulder, Byakuya felt heat creeping up his neck and into his face.

                “You’re not the only one to admire another’s reiatsu or sword release, though I’m sure I wasn’t half as adorable when you were the one stroking my ego.”

                “You are insufferable sometimes,” Byakuya announced into the whorl of dark hair on Shunsui’s pectoral. “Much of the time, actually.”

                “Naturally talented, I am,” Kyouraku chuckled and slid his hand down Byakuya’s flank to pat his backside. “And part of what makes me so inexorably charming.”

                With a soft snort, Byakuya wrapped an arm around Shunsui’s waist. “You are not upset?”

                “Why should I be?” Shunsui pinched the smooth, pale flesh of Byakuya’s buttock until it reddened. “Abarai will make a good captain, and I can pop into the Royal realm whenever I damn well please.”

                Byakuya hissed as Shunsui brought his palm down on the reddening area with a smack!

                “You’ll have to try harder than that if you want to get away from me.”

                While his tone was imbued with laughter, Kyouraku’s dark gaze was nothing short of predatory. Byakuya might have said something, had he not been shoved back down onto the bed.

Chapter Text

Warnings: Explicit adult content, m/m slash/yaoi, fluff.

Penumbra, Chapter Seven

                The ceiling radiated rose, then deep orange as the first fingers of daylight crept over the horizon and painted the rice paper of the windows in progressively riotous hues. The long limbed shadows retreated behind lintels and into the corners of the bedroom, while a persistent warbler – or perhaps an entire family of birds, Byakuya couldn’t tell- twittered and chirped from the courtyard. Though the windows were closed, the door to the gardens stood open and afforded the cool, occasional breeze scented of earth, grass and dew free access to the room, stirring the coals and embers in the hearth to crackle and hiss in reply.

                Byakuya stretched his legs as best he could and tucked his toes back under the blankets. His left shoulder and upper back were just as cold, but the remainder was warm enough to justify staying still. He exhaled sharply, trying to dislodge the wayward brown curl tickling his nose to no avail. He tried again, and again, but without success, and it took another minute to resist the oncoming sneeze before he gave up entirely.

                I’m not sure why I bother, he eyed the long, tumbling strands that had taken over both pillows and attacked him on and off through the course of the night. Careful not to inhale too deeply, he sniffed Shunsui’s hair, trying to sort out the scent of the man from the sex, sweat and cedar smoke clinging to him.

                Byakuya closed his eyes, though he was not the least bit sleepy.

                He inhaled again before propping up on an elbow to consider the man sprawled next to him, fast asleep. Heedless of Byakuya’s scrutiny, Shunsui continued to snore into his pillow, one arm and leg flopped partway off the bed, eyepatch and sleeping yukata piled on the floor nearby. Mildly disheveled hair covered much of his back, twisted sheets his hips, but there was enough exposed skin to give Byakuya something worth looking at. Having never seen another soul half as hairy, he found it hard not to stare at every opportunity, fascinated by the spirals and chevrons embellishing the swells of muscle along Shunsui’s shoulders and back. Soon enough his fingertips were tracing the paths of dark hair and sinew – another common occurrence – though Byakuya took care not to touch his skin directly, planning to save that topographical exercise for when Shunsui was awake.

                Mesmerized as he was, the encroaching daylight still drew his attention away as it crept higher along the wall to illuminate the sword stand there; Katen Kyoukotsu’s saya sparkled in the sunbeam as the many layers of lacquer caught the light. Were it not for the empty half of the double rack, he might have admired it for quite a while. As it was, he nodded at Senbonzakura’s melancholic whisper and looked away.

                Some moments later Byakuya realized that he had fallen still and was staring off into space. He looked down to find his hand hovering over Shunsui’s back, casting shadow fingers that skimmed over skin as the sunlight continued to invade the room. There was nothing particularly remarkable about the shadow – it behaved exactly as he expected, and Byakuya wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. He chided himself with a cluck of his tongue, but nearly bit it when a hand closed firmly around his wrist.

“You’re thinking too hard, love,” murmured Kyouraku into his palm, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep.

                “Oh?” It took Byakuya a moment to coax his own vocal cords to cooperate.

                “You draw your reiatsu in when you concentrate, makes the room too quiet,” Shunsui kissed his wrist and trapped Byakuya’s hand between both of his, signaling no intention of returning said appendage to its owner.

                “Hmm,” Byakuya acquiesced and shifted the sheets towards their feet, crawling over Shunsui to straddle him. “Given the violence of your snoring, it is astonishing that you notice anything at all of your surroundings.”

                “I’m just gifted, I suppose.” Shunsui yawned, his eyelids growing heavy as Byakuya’s hands roamed over his chest with a light, curious touch. “I am pleasantly surprised to find you here this morning, though.”

                “Such a thing could happen more often, if you only slept through most of the day,” Byakuya arched a brow at him as he traced the margin of Shunsui’s nipple with his fingernail.

                “Excuses, excuses.” Shunsui snatched up Byakuya’s hand to nip at the fingers before letting the survey continue. He gestured vaguely at the far wall. “Ukitake kept a writing desk around here somewhere. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do most of the day’s work without stepping foot in the office.”

                “From what I know of the Thirteenth, I am not surprised,” Byakuya admitted, though his hands came to a stop.

                “Oh, none of that,” Shunsui pressed his index finger between Byakuya’s brows as if to iron out the wrinkle forming there.  “After decades of considerable effort, he’d have been thrilled that one of us finally got you into bed.”

                “Sempai?” Byakuya winced as his voice sounded an octave higher than he hoped. It made it easier to ignore the color creeping into his cheeks.

                “Quite. The redoubtable, ever-avuncular Ukitake Juushirou was not above want or desire,” Kyouraku tapped Byakuya on the tip of his nose. “On occasion, he was even known to succumb to the need for food.”

                Byakuya swatted away the offending digit, though Shunsui easily caught his hand with a laugh.

                “You don’t give us old lechers enough credit, dear,” Shunsui kissed the pale palm and held it to his breast. “Which is part of your charm.”

                With a dubious glare, Byakuya rotated his wrist in an unsuccessful bid to free his hand from Kyouraku’s grip. Shunsui flashed him a leering grin, and Byakuya was horrified as his throat and chest flushed pink in response, his throat growing tight and dry. Frowning, he opened his mouth for a sharp retort…only to let loose what sounded like a sob.

                Eyes wide, Byakuya clapped his other hand over his mouth before anything else could escape.

                Shunsui stared at him and his smile evaporated, which didn’t help at all.

                Instead, his stomach lurched and his eyes began to tear and sting. Blinking was of no use, so Byakuya resorted to bowing his head and screwing his eyes shut; his silent prayer for the ground to open up and swallow him whole went unanswered.

                Of all possible moments to lose my composure, why now?

                He tried again to pull away, to no avail. Unwilling to risk speech – under the threat of losing all self-respect if his voice cracked – Byakuya focused solely on his breathing in a last-ditch effort to calm himself before the situation deteriorated further.

He was about twenty inhalations in when Shunsui sat up, threatening the balance of his precarious perch. Byakuya couldn’t say when he regained use of his other hand, but did eventually notice that both of Shunsui’s hands had come to rest on his shoulders, warm and steadying.

Grateful for any relief, he meant to say as much, but had no sooner drawn a breath than Shunsui kissed him.

The grip on his shoulders tightened and Shunsui pressed in, gentle but insistent. His face flushed even hotter, tickled by Shunsui’s beard and fueled by the churning maelstrom still trying to fight its way out of his chest. Byakuya ignored the progressive breathlessness and carried on until Shunsui pulled away, though he couldn’t help but gasp, chest heaving, when the reprieve came.

                “I…”

                Shunsui shook his head and released his shoulders, cupping Byakuya’s face in his hands instead.

                It was just as well, as his throat constricted once more, strangling any hope of coherent speech. Shunsui leaned in and kissed him again, softer, slower. The tenderness of the gesture was more than he could bear, but at the same time galvanized his resolve.

                It’s funny, this tendency of yours to bring out things I had no intention of sharing.

                With effort, Byakuya unclenched his fists and released the rumpled sheets from his grasp. He fought the urge to curl in on himself, to turn away, though every muscle in his body screamed in protest. When he finally looked up Shunsui was watching him, the sunlight casting such a dense shadow over the right side of his face that it almost erased his injuries. So striking was the effect that Byakuya found himself reaching for Shunsui’s right eye, barely restraining himself in time with a hitched breath.

                Shunsui made no move to protect the empty socket, but bequeathed him with a smile.

                Byakuya blinked and stilled. A flyaway picked that exact moment to pull free of the ponytail, falling over Shunsui’s notched ear at an obtuse angle; Byakuya blinked again and smoothed it back. Shunsui responded by reaching out and brushing something out of his eyes, though whether it was his bangs or tears, Byakuya could not say. He lowered his lids and leaned into the touch before they came together again.

                His cheeks and chin were burning by the time Byakuya climbed back into Shunsui’s lap, his nose twitching every time it was tickled by a stray moustache hair. Shunsui ran his hands down his naked back and squeezed, trying to pull him closer though there was no further gap to be bridged. Byakuya gasped as the hands began to knead and spread him, arched his back as strong fingers dug into his flesh. Teeth nipped his tongue and he acquiesced by tilting his head and opening his mouth as wide as he could.

                Byakuya pressed back against the fingers that breached him. He managed to wedge a hand between them, fingers curling around a member as hard and leaking as his own. Shunsui gave his tongue a vicious suck as his chest rumbled with approval; he pulled and rolled their hips together, trapping Byakuya’s hand in the process.

                Shunsui pulled away long enough to sink his teeth into the base of Byakuya’s throat. “As much as I would enjoy you bouncing in my lap…” he trailed off into a growl.

                Byakuya landed flat on his back, air leaving his lungs with a whoosh as Shunsui descended on him. Arms pinned and legs spread, there was little he could do but turn his head and allow Shunsui to bite his way up his neck. Teeth and tongue toyed with his ear and he sank further into the mattress as Shunsui rutted against him.

                “What, and have use of my limbs? I can hardly imagine,” a breathless Byakuya wrapped his legs around Shunsui’s waist and tried to pull him closer with his heels.

                Shunsui ground down, hard, and licked the rim of his ear. “I try not to give you more than you can handle.”

                “Bah, you do as you like,” Byakuya huffed even as he moved to meet his hips with equal force.

                Shunsui pushed up to sit on his heels and shifted to hold both of Byakuya’s wrists in one hand. He spread something sweet-smelling over his length and positioned himself before pausing. “Is that going to be a problem?”

                “Not at all.”

                Byakuya lost the rest of his words in a gasp, residual soreness from the previous evening adding to the usual, breathtaking ache as Shunsui thrust in.

                “Are you sure?” Shunsui’s lazy baritone was strained, but not as much as his taut abdominal muscles as he held himself perfectly still.

                Byakuya panted, blinked, and stared.

                Shunsui loomed over him, his loose hair wreathed in sunlight that drenched auburn with gold. His face was a mask of shadow, teeth and eye the only alabaster peeking out of the abyss. His long neck, muscular chest were dappled in sun sparingly, and the shadows stretched down his arms and tense thighs to spill onto Byakuya and the surrounding sheets.

                “I know what I want,” Byakuya rasped against a throat gone dry.

                You.

                When Shunsui finally, finally moved, he also pitched forward, claiming him with a bruising kiss even as he bent Byakuya in half. He released the Kuchiki’s wrists, unwrapping the legs from his waist in favor of slinging them over his shoulders without missing a beat.

                Byakuya reached for his shoulders but his hands were promptly shoved back against the bed. Rather than pin his wrists again, Shunsui laced their fingers together and gave his hands a mighty squeeze.

                He could barely breathe and was unable to move at all, completely invaded and surrounded by Shunsui, and he groaned with utter satisfaction. Were it not for the feel of something slithering up his limbs, he would have closed his eyes and lost himself in the sensation.

                At that realization, Byakuya stiffened a little and broke the kiss. He couldn’t turn his head, but he could angle it just enough to see elegant tendrils of darkness moving closer, spiraling up their forearms and joined hands. He felt another feather-light thread wind up his thigh and over his hipbone as Shunsui sucked at his bottom lip.

                I want all of you, he decided as the shadows continued to bind them together in a silent caress. Shunsui bit his neck again, breathing heavily into his hair as he picked up the pace. He felt so thick, so hot, so unbelievably good as he pounded away that Byakuya found himself trying not to move for fear of ending things too quickly. Though judging by the way Shunsui cursed against his shoulder, the point was probably moot.

                Byakuya relented and pressed up to meet him, sending sparks of pure bliss up his spine. He nipped at Shunsui’s collarbone and tightened his grip until his fingernails were digging into Shunsui’s hands.

                “Fuck,” Shunsui ground out as he came, slowing and panting and almost crushing the bones in Byakuya’s hands. He pulled out with a grunt and collapsed against Byakuya, body almost entirely slack except for his iron grip. He let go a moment later to drag his sweaty palms along Byakuya’s chest and follow them with equally sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

                It was Byakuya’s turn to hiss – he was so tight, so close that the feel of Shunsui’s chest hair against his cock was almost painful. He clenched a handful of Shunsui’s hair that trailed over his stomach and pulled, trying to wrench him up and away.

                “Don’t,” his sibilant plea was going unheeded, so Byakuya shoved at Shunsui’s shoulder. He tried to summon up the words, which also failed him. “It’s…not-”

                “I don’t recall asking,” Shunsui looked up at him through the curtain of his dark hair. He licked up his length and flicked the head with the tip of his tongue.

                Byakuya made a strangled noise and grabbed more of his hair, though whether he was trying to stop Shunsui or hurry him along, he was no longer certain. He dug his heels into Shunsui’s back when lips closed around him, arched his own back after the first powerful suck.

                Well past the point of restraint, Byakuya writhed as Shunsui sucked and swallowed around him. Shunsui continued to swallow as he cupped his balls and that did him in; the pressure built up and burst through, the climax vicious enough to make his toes and calves cramp even as the rest of him went limp.

                As Shunsui lowered his legs to the bed, he winced and became aware of the hand he’d clamped over his mouth. Byakuya raked the hair out of his eyes so as to better stare at the ceiling as his thundering pulse slowed. An odd tingling sensation in the nether regions got his attention, though, and he lifted his head.

                Shunsui knelt between his knees, a picture of utter composition and complete debauchery. His hair curtained half of his face and tumbled over his shoulders, the auburn waves skimming his navel but not obscuring his nipples or phallus still dusky rose from arousal. The soft green glow of kidou from his hands illuminated a pensive expression.

                “Did you really think I’d leave you unfinished?” Shunsui murmured at length, gaze flicking up to Byakuya’s briefly.

                “Thought had very little to do with it,” Byakuya sighed and propped up on his elbows. “What are you doing?”

                “Isn’t it obvious?”

                Something in Shunsui’s tone was a bit too…smug.

                “Pardon my imprecision,” Byakuya arched a brow at him. “Unless I’ve some injury of which I’m unaware…why are you-”

                “Oh, just increasing my chances for another go later in the day,” Shunsui mused airily as he finished and folded his hands together.

                Byakuya rolled his eyes and let his head fall back onto the pillow. He opened his mouth, but the sudden pressure around his leg wiped away any words but a surprised, guttural, “oh!”

                “You were saying?” Shunsui hummed as he worked his way from calf to ankle, massaging out the knots with his thumbs. He propped Byakuya’s foot on his pectoral and pressed a kiss to the top as he worked.

                “Nothing important.” Byakuya sounded more like himself, though trying to keep his voice steady under the onslaught was proving tricky. The effect of Shunsui’s hands was amazing, but his chest hair threatened to make Byakuya’s top-secret ticklishness evident at any moment. Still, it all felt much too good for him to consider interrupting Shunsui’s progress. “I was going to accuse you of doing what you wished, regardless.”

                “And now?”

                “Keep this up, and I will let you do whatever you like,” Byakuya admitted despite himself as Shunsui rubbed the arch of his foot.

                “Anything? Really?” Shunsui nipped at his instep with a look of pure mischief.

                Beard brushed against the sole of his foot. Byakuya couldn’t abide it anymore and pulled away, scowling at Shunsui’s cheeky grin.

                “Ah, well, more’s the pity,” Shunsui drawled and shifted over to rest his head on Byakuya’s stomach as he reached for his other leg.

                His hands seemed drawn to the haphazard curls so Byakuya indulged himself, fingers sinking into Shunsui’s hair as it spilled over his midsection.

                “In all due seriousness,” Shunsui murmured minutes later as his hands slowed to a stop over Byakuya’s knee, “you’re all right?”

                “I suppose so,” Byakuya’s hands stilled. “Why do you ask?”

                Shunsui pressed a kiss to his stomach as his hand skimmed over Byakuya’s thigh.

                “I’ll be interested to see what your accommodations are like in Royal Realm,” Shunsui traced Byakuya’s hipbone with his index finger. “While I suppose that sorrow can follow one anywhere, dwelling in a place unladed by memories might be a welcome change.”

                “Indeed.”  

                After a long stretch of silence, Byakuya sighed and returned to carding his fingers through Shunsui’s hair. The interplay of sunlit reds and golds in the background of rich brown fascinated him, as did the occasional wayward shadow that peeked out intermittently and encircled his fingertips.

                “Breakfast?” Shunsui asked, his breath stirring the fine hairs around Byakuya’s bellybutton.

                “Mmh.”

                “Bath?” Shunsui pursed his lips to blow over his navel in earnest.

                Byakuya tightened his abdomen in an effort to not fidget. “Sure.”

                “Tea?”

                “Oh, I hope so.”

                “Marvelous.” Shunsui licked a straight line between the toned muscles.

                “Stop that, damn you,” Byakuya gritted his teeth and tugged at Shunsui’s hair, and his efforts were met with nothing but a low laugh.

                Suddenly, Shunsui lifted his head and tugged at his ear. “Speaking of tickling…”

                Byakuya stared as Shunsui pulled a tiny, salamander-like shadow away and held it between forefinger and thumb.

                “Cut that out,” Shunsui admonished, tossing the creature onto the bedspread where it dissipated in an instant. He shook his head and resumed his previous perch on the Kuchiki’s middle.

                “Are they...normally like this?” Byakuya blinked as another shadow crept out Shunsui’s hair to wrap itself around Byakuya’s wrist. It circled round several times before sliding under his arm and out of sight.

                “Only when they’re happy.”

                Shunsui draped an arm over Byakuya’s hips with a contented sigh. As Shunsui made no effort to move Byakuya did likewise, settling against the pillow and watching the sunlight move across the room. Though the late summer sun blazed mightily outside, it never quite succeeded in lighting the entire space or eliminating the many shadows ensconced within.

                Just as it should be, Byakuya decided as a dark shape moved along his palm and over Shunsui’s neck.

                Just as it should be.