Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Assumptions ❯ Chapter 3

Assumptions

Chapter 3

 

By: eternalsailorsolarwind AKA youkai_girl

 

Disclaimer: Bleach and all of its characters are owned by Tite Kubo, his Japanese publishers, and Viz. I only play with them for grins and giggles.

 

A/N: This took a hellishly long time to finish this chapter, as RL made me its bitch. However, I finally got this back on track. After the events in Chapter 2, Byakuya receives a visit from Ichigo in his office.

 

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Byakuya took his seat with a barely concealed sigh of relief. His sleep for the past couple of nights had been troubled, and it was taking more energy than normal to maintain his usual sang-froid. Kurosaki Ichigo had flitted - stomped, really - in and out of his mind all night. So distracted and worn out he had barely managed to avoid being bowled over by Yachiru during her daily pre-breakfast stampede.

 

Byakuya had, by now, realized that he botched the meeting with his fellow captain. Though sure that he had drive the other man off with his harsh words and brutal kiss, the cost to himself had been unexpected. And that realization shocked and dismayed him.

 

Every spare moment was spent thinking about the former ryoka; what he'd told Ichigo that night, the kiss, and what he really wanted from the other man. Despite what he'd said, it not just a quick and dirty liaison. He wanted so much more, and knew it could never be; Byakuya's own noble birth being just the first of so many reasons.

 

His thoughts were exhausting him; waking him almost every time he dozed off. At least he had the office to escape to. It was an oasis of quiet and Byakuya felt a subtle tension ease from the set of his shoulders. Here, he could regain his equilibrium. Reaching for the stack of paperwork, he began his day as usual, letting the routine soothe his nerves.

 

A few minutes later, right on schedule, Renji entered the office, cup of tea and a few files in hand. They settled in to their daily review of the lower and un-seated ranks of the Sixth Division.

 

In the middle of their fourth file, the sound of a commotion could be heard in the outer office. Renji got up to find out what was going on outside. As soon as the shoji slid open, the answer to that question buffeted at them.

 

Kurosaki Ichigo's unsettled reiatsu filled the office, causing Byakuya's eyes to widen at the splintered sensation of it against his own. A moment later, the orange-haired man strode into the room, black smudges under his brown eyes. Even his normally spiky hair drooped as if worn out. He looked much how the noble felt underneath the calm, serene mask.

 

And given the mulish look on his fellow captain's face, he wasn't going anywhere until he'd had his say.

 

“Renji, leave us,” said Byakuya.

 

The redhead turned the uncomprehending look he'd been giving his friend/rival onto his captain. “Sir, are you….”

 

“Now, Lieutenant Abarai.”

 

The whip crack of command in his voice caused the disciplined puppy to scurry from the room, closing the door behind him. Staring at each other in the sudden silence, their contained spiritual pressure began to fill the room as if it was a cup. Byakuya wasn't sure if he was drowning or becoming intoxicated by it.

 

“I don't believe you have an appointment, Kurosaki-taichou,” he said mildly, his tone hiding his surprise at seeing how terrible the other man looked.

 

“Fuck appointments. I got somethin' to say to you, Byakuya.”

 

Arching an elegant eyebrow in feigned surprise, the noble felt his heart sink. “I believe everything was said the other night on that subject.”

 

Only the most charitable would have called the movement of Ichigo's mouth a smile. “Right. That's why you immediately thought that was I'm here.”

 

Eyes widening in surprise before he could stop himself, Byakuya silently uttered a curse he'd picked up from Renji during the Winter War. “Isn't it?”

 

“Actually, yeah, it is. But funny how you jumped to that conclusion,” Ichigo drawled, his brown eyes more alive now; intent. Focused. A look that Byakuya had seen in the other man's eyes many times over the years. It meant he was preparing for battle. It didn't bode well for this conversation.

 

“That conversation is over, Kurosaki. Closed.”

 

“Oh really? You stick your tongue down my throat, tell me that I'm only worth a quick fuck to you, and you think the subject's closed? Think again, Byakuya; we're just getting started,” snarled Ichigo, slapping his palms flat on the desk and leaning over it before he could blink.

 

This close, Byakuya could smell the sandalwood soap that the other man used, a masculine scent that made his mouth water with the sudden desire to taste it on Ichigo's skin. He forced himself to stay still, calm in the face of the angry storm that faced him. “Step back.”

 

“No,” responded Ichigo, his brown eyes flashing. “Not this time.”

 

Brown eyes pinned the noble to his chair, so sharp was their gaze. “You don't like men, Byakuya, that's fine. Say so. But I don't think that's your problem.”

 

Opening his mouth to retort, Byakuya was silenced by Ichigo's glare. “In case you forgot, you bastard, I asked you about how you were always around. Always by my side. You're the one who started talking that shit the other night, not me.”

 

“Are you done?”

 

“Keep quiet. I'm not giving you any more hints,” replied the other man, his voice quiet, as if his anger had fled. It was more like a verbal caress. “Goddamn noble.”

 

For the second time in his life, Byakuya felt those rough, chapped lips against his own. Unlike his harsh, bitter kiss, this one was gentle, almost tender. A shudder slid through him, having never been the recipient of such a kiss. Not remembering opening his mouth under this onslaught, Ichigo's tongue brushing against his allowed a soft sound to escape him.

 

As quickly as it began, it was over. Ichigo stepped back, and the noble felt a tremor slide along his spine. He hadn't had a chance to return the kiss. Trying to get up from his seat, he stiffened as he realized the captain was leaving. Ichigo stopped in the doorway and looked back.

 

“You don't get a third chance, Byakuya.”

 

The sound of the shoji sliding shut behind him echoed the shattering of Byakuya's assumptions and expectations. Had he really been so wrong…?