Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Bleach Fiction - Words ❯ Chapter 1

Title: Word

Author: Theablackthorn

Rating: NC-17 eventually

Pairing: Byakuya/Renji

Warnings: BL

Notes:

 

Words - they are such intricate things.

 

They have the power to convey the meaning of so many things.

 

Someone once said that words were the key to the soul. They were mistaken.

 

For all the words grasped, none seem to find their way to truth. For all the flourish of a well scripted and poetic letter, I find myself frustrated at how it never conveys what I truly wish to say.

 

Words can have so many meanings, express so many thoughts, and yet, you do not understand any of them. You are illusory to me - why you do not comprehend what I am trying to iterate with so many words confounds me.

 

Perhaps something simpler...

 

A lack of words may bear more fruit. Direct, to the point, rather than the beguiling nuances that I have attempted in the past?

 

I have yet to decide if I will send this correspondence to you. I have not sent the others, they lay piled in a dark corner of a draw, gathering dust.

 

I fear that I put too much inside these carefully scripted pages, the weave and curl of calligraphy across the vellum a luxurious yet disquieting view into a heart that is meant to be cold, hard, disciplined.

 

I find that I have often found myself putting ink to page and spilling forth all my thoughts, fears, worries and feelings and yet, when read back, they say so little.

 

You are such a physical being, a man of action, impulse and fierce protectiveness.

 

I...I am someone else. Someone comprised of station, proprietary, politics and rules. I am nobility in its truest sense.

 

Is what I wish to say, to write, to express, so inconceivable?

 

I find myself amused by how little of myself finds its way into these words, how different this page paints my portrait. There is what the world sees and what I see and it seems that here, in these inked pages, there is another me.

 

It is a release of sorts, the only one given to me.

 

A mixture of task, duty, words and thoughts that curl elegantly across the page.

 

Yet, if said aloud, these things would be taboo for a man of my position.

 

What will I do? What choice will I make? Will this letter - like the last - find its way into the draw at the bottom of the cherry wood desk I currently sit at?

 

I have yet to decide, and that is intolerable. But I cannot make myself decide just yet. I am not one for procrastination, that is your forte and yet here I sit, alone, in the candlelit darkness of the Division Office scrolling words down this blank, empty page.

 

You are gone now. It is late and I do not expect you to return. The quiet, though pleasant, also feels tight, warm and almost claustrophobic without you here to lighten it.

 

You, who fill these walls with the most irritating sound that seem to sooth me without reason. I find I cannot focus without the fire of your presence any longer.

 

It is a distraction to me.

 

Though, it is not as unwelcome as it once was. How many years have passed since that day?

 

Too many.

 

Byakuya sighed into the silence, fingers stretching out from the brush held so carefully by long slender fingers, eyes lifting from the page, catching and focusing on the guttering flame that rests on his subordinate's desk. It reminds him of the other man, this fire that is bound by wax and wick. Something barely contained desperate to burn brighter, fiercer, to overpower to stretch further.

 

Yes - just like him the noble thinks silently, eyes contemplative as his hand relaxes and the brush eases in his grip.

 

But, he is not there yet, but time will see to that.

 

Time and experience.

 

The Captain does not doubt it.

 

He sits silently for a time, the ink drying on the fine tipped brush, before something dawns in his mind, something fresh and crisp like a cool breeze on a blazing summer day. He straightens, dips the delicate tip of the brush into the ink once more, eyes fixed on the page as he carefully choreographs the words sweeping down the page, made with light, precise strokes.

 

You are such a physical force, like gravity itself.

 

The way you draw people to you...

 

Would you understand these thoughts inked so carefully? Would you care to?

 

Perhaps I am more the fool for thinking such a thing.

 

You would not comprehend the depth of these things that I am trying to convey, to unleash on the page.

 

You would understand this...

 

A nod of acknowledgment - Your home.

 

A cool gaze trailing from head to foot - You're not hurt, I'm... glad.

 

Fingertips reaching and running lightly across your cheek - I missed you.

 

A hand pressed flat to your chest - I... I love you.

 

Byakuya carefully signs the bottom of the piece of elegantly scripted paper with a solitary letter. He places the brush aside to retrieve the house seal, dipping it into the red ink he had made up just for this purpose, pressing it next to his own name. Byakuya carefully folds the thick sheaf of vellum in three with long fingers once the ink was dry, wrapping a ribbon around it to keep it closed, heating a thick red stick of wax over the candle situated at the corner of his desk. He presses the tacky wax to the edge of the paper, placing the heated wax stick down before carefully pressing the Kuchiki clan seal into the red circle - sealing his thoughts, ideas, wants and fears away.

 

He waits a few minutes for the wax to cool, staring listlessly at the curve of the Sakura blossom in the pattern pressed into the wax. Shaking himself from his daydream, eyeing the wax, finally satisfied that it was cold and firm. He picks up the brush and precisely inks a name across the surface, before leaning down and slipping the sealed letter into the bottom draw of his desk - decision made.

 

He didn't notice the flickering flame of the two candles dancing across tattooed skin, the small bit of flesh exposed by a dark black gi in the gap of the door. The noble did not comprehend that someone had been watching, taking in the soft sighs that the Captain hadn't realised he had been making as his brush swept gracefully across the page.

 

He would know soon enough.

 

00-00-00

 

Two weeks later...

 

Byakuya had been working in his office, filling out paperwork with familiar precision when his fukutaicho returned from the living world. He felt Renji's reiatsu swell and boil forward like a tide of heat as he stepped through the Senkaimon and back into Sereitei.

 

His eyes closed slowly, feeling that swell of pressure against his body, that familiar caress that his subordinate seemed completely unaware of. It was a small indulgence, but he couldn't refuse the enticing curl of warmth that brushed against his senses.

 

He was surprised when the other man stepped into his office without the normal decorum of knocking on the dark wood panels, as was polite. He went to reprimand the other man, not losing an ounce of his composure at the thoroughly ruffled Abarai Renji that stood before him. His clothes were ripped; blood and bruising clear from the bare patches of skin that were revealed by numerous tears in his uniform. “Abarai-fukutaicho…”

 

He didn't get to finish.

 

“You didn't know that with those actions, there are equal and opposite reactions, Taicho.”

 

He stared uncomprehendingly at his subordinate, trying to fathom what it was the other man was referring to. His eyebrow arched in questions before he went to speak again, “Abarai...”

 

When the red-head smiled almost cordially at him he felt something low and deep twist in his gut, the way Renji's teeth peaked out from his smile made it look far more rakish than the other man had any right to be. His words rolled off his tongue with a rough rasp and Byakuya held firm to his iron control, because the sound had his skin tingling and his cock stirring with need. “Let me show you.”

 

Byakuya nodded at his fukutaicho and was surprised to see him nod back, a smile curling his lips and showing sharp canines.

 

“A nod of acknowledgment - I'm back.”

 

Byakuya said nothing, though his thoughts found and grabbed the memory of a letter, written in the dead of night and sealed away inside his own desk. He would reprimand his fukutaicho for going through his locked draws later, at the moment, though it went against the very grain of his training, he wanted to let this seed of curiosity grow.

 

He looked on silently, humouring the other man as he trailed his eyes over Renji's body, his gaze warming at the sight of him, even though he was covered in mud and blood, his clothes ripped and dishevelled - he looked fine. Better than fine, his colour was high and he exuded an aura of excitement. Strong muscles hidden beneath black cotton, tattoo's that he'd wanted to trace with his fingertips since this heat had flared up inside him exposed in small inky black patches on chest and thigh.

 

He felt that now familiar heat pool low and warm in his stomach as that smile turned feral.

 

“A warm knowing smile - I'm glad to be home.”

 

He almost didn't move forward to take the next step after that, but he steeled himself, he was Captain here and Renji - Renji was Renji.

 

He rose from behind his desk, a quiet swish of fabric settling the only sound before he moved purposefully around the desk, coming to stand opposite Renji's slightly broader frame. A pale hand stretched out, his sleeve riding higher as his arm lifted, exposing the top of his white glove, his fingertips barely touched Renji's cheeks and he felt heat flare and trickle through his hand like hot treacle, raising the tiny hairs on his arm. He didn't let the sound that wanted to escape go, tightly sealing his lips as a warm, calloused palm closed over his own so his palm lay flush to hot, tanned skin.

 

“A hand pressing against the one caressing his cheek, so that it lingered - And I missed you too.”

 

Byakuya felt Renji's jaw shift and move as he spoke and he felt compelled to finish whatever this was that had started between them. Something ached in his chest, something that felt tight and small, something that wanted to stretch out and grow in the heat Renji provided.

 

Renji pulled him in like no one else. A force of gravity so strong, he was like the sun, collecting planets around him. When Renji's finger's loosened, his hand remained flat against his skin, revelling in the stubbly surface before slowly, so slowly gliding downwards over battered skin and ink, barely touching and causing the red-head to shiver and growl low, “Taicho.”

 

Byakuya's palm flattened when he reached his destination, it felt like time had stopped as his hand moved and yet he knew it continued to pass as it always did. He revelled in the press of Renji's flesh against his skin, pressing down and feeling the heavy thud of Renji's heartbeat. His gaze was riveted to his own hand, the contrast of his own pale skin to Renji's tan an enticement all its own.

 

He didn't register Renji shifting closer until he felt a weight and pressure at his hips, steadily, slowly, pulling him forward.

 

He looked up when his hips were almost flush with Renji's, his need straining his hakama at the small amount of distance that separated them. He looked up with a calm face, brow arched in question once more, waiting, not knowing what would happen beyond this, but needing it with a ferocity that was foreign to him.

 

Byakuya saw in the depths of those rich pools of crimson, a flame burning inside, need and desire plain in the sharp angles and warm contours of Renji's face and body. He felt his cock twitch, his muscles tense and a soft sigh escape his slightly parted lips.

 

“Two hands reaching and pulling you close, pressing you to a warm, broad chest, eyes dark as crimson warming at the soft unspoken admission - I love you too.”

 

Byakuya stood still as Renji leant in, molten copper eyes studying his features as he the red headed moved. His hand shifted on Renji's chest, allowing him to edge closer, knowing if he truly wished to stop what Renji was doing, what he hoped he would do - he could. When their breath mingled, heat and warmth pooled and twisted inside him and his eyes slid shut.

 

He sighed at the first careful press of chapped lips against his own, his hand clenching around the fabric of Renji's gi before he pushed upwards, searching and connecting with those same lips. He felt heat flood through him that furled thing inside his chest blossomed under the onslaught of pleasure, heat, uncertainty and need that burst inside him.

 

He choked back a whimper when that warmth retreated from him, not wanting the sound to escape, for Renji to know how much he wanted him. His eyes opened slowly, looking up into heavy-lidded crimson, before he registered that their bodies were pressed firmly together, his need quite obvious against Renji's own.

 

“Taicho?”

 

“Yes Renji.”

 

“You were right.”

 

“About?”

 

“Me.”

 

Byakuya arched a brow once more, the top half of his body arching away so he could look at Renji fully, not to mention his hips were being held firmly in place against Renji's own.

 

“This..,” Renji pushed forward with his hips and Byakuya groaned under his breath at the friction of cock and cloth, “…I'm a very physical person.”

 

“Ahhh…”

 

With those words Renji leant in once more and took Byakuya's lips in a fervent kiss, the stroke of tongues, the heat of lips and the nip of teeth made the noble groan, the sound swallowed by Renji's searching lips and returned with a hungry growl.

 

Renji's broke the kiss to whisper against Byakuya's mouth, giving the occasional nip between words, “Mayhap…now...you'll…have …something far better…than just words…ne, Taicho?”

 

Byakuya nodded but didn't reply. The way Renji nipped and licked at his lips sent his cock stiffening, his body rubbing unashamedly against ~Renji's as he struggled to breath.

 

“Glad that I… can get you lost… for words - Byakuya.”

 

“Nahh, shut…up...Renji…”

 

Renji chuckled at Byakuya's response, “Hai, Taicho.” He didn't try to speak again, focused on making sure his Captain was truly lost for words.