Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Unravel Me ❯ One-Shot

Unravel Me

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite created Bleach; I play with its characters not for monetary profit but for fellowship with other strange people who read and write fanfiction.

Description: NC-17. PWP RenIshi. A short piece based on Orin’s art of the same name here:

http://www.debbiechan.com/images/Unravel-me.jpg and something of a sequel to "Flies in the Kitchen." Reiraku bondage, schmoop.

Warning: No actual sex (I’m not kidding).

for Orin, again

"Let go." Ishida spoke the words as if he expected Renji to obey them.

Renji didn’t. His fingers pressed into Ishida’s upper arm. "Make me." He wanted to hold a serious look but a smile escaped a corner of his mouth.

Ishida looked at the door. "I’ll be late."

Late? Ishida wasn’t wearing his school uniform. Wait. The kid was going to--what was it called? A fun-raiser. Renji had wanted go until he’d found out washing cars was involved.

And trying to get passerby to buy home-baked goods. Gods, how stupid. What a way to throw away a whole morning of Renji’s three-day leave from Soul Society.

"Forget it." Renji’s other hand reached to catch Ishida’s chin. It gave the flesh there a gentle pinch. "Your wagashi won’t go to waste." Two fingers stroked Ishida’s throat. "I’ll eat them … " Renji petted the kid’s Adam’s apple. "Every last one."

Ishida closed his eyes. "I made them for school."

Ishida didn’t need to be in school; he was already smarter than the whole school. He didn’t need to be pushing his palm against Renji’s chest; Ishida was stronger than Renji when it came to short power bursts. That Quincy technique, ransou … ransou…whatever it was called … puppet cock-puller was enough to yank Renji to his knees and maybe fling him against the wall for good measure.

Or maybe it wasn’t.

Renji’s day was just starting. He stood barefoot in a thin kimono, his hair in his eyes and tangled at his shoulders. His Shinigami clothes were on a chair where Ishida had folded them. His sandals and tabi were on the windowsill. Renji had shown up only hours ago, during the black night, coming through the window as usual.

Renji lowered his face to Ishida’s. "Fight me."

"Go find Kurosaki. I don’t need to train as often as you Shinigami do."

"Nah, I don’t mean fighting like that."

Ishida looked wary.

Renji put his palms on Ishida’s shoulders. "I’m not letting go of you until after I’ve…" The urge to say something nasty was like a spitwad needing to fly out. "Until…."

Ishida tensed as Renji’s thumbnails bit through sweater fabric and met flesh. "Abarai, not now--"

"I won’t let go until after I’ve made you…." Renji’s breath faltered. "Made you…." Lust weighed against his stomach and lungs. He exhaled hard and spoke into Ishida’s ear. "I’m going to make you come so hard your teeth hurt. I’m going come all over your pretty face."

"Since when did you get so perverted?"

Renji fingers loosened and then tightened again on Ishida’s shoulders. "Fight me."

"Fine."

There was a rush of spirit force that didn’t come from inside Ishida himself but from thin air, and blurry white ribbons wrapped themselves around Renji’s forearms.

Renji didn’t bother wrestling the ribbons. He wanted to test something. He could barely make out a vertical white thread … wavering … there next to Ishida’s ear….

"Here we go!"

Like flame, Renji’s spirit thread shot forward. It corkscrewed around the white haze and when the red ribbon tightened, he saw that his Shinigami spirit thread had Ishida’s human spirit thread in a chokehold.

"Gotcha!"

Ishida’s eyes widened and the white ribbons around Renji’s forearms dissolved.

"Ha! I knew it!" Renji was grinning. The kid’s ability to manipulate reishi was limited. "Pretty smart of me, eh? I figured out that if I could catch this little guy--" Renji’s red thread waggled Ishida’s white one. "You can’t channel power from the air anymore, can you? It’s like pinching your nose so you can’t breathe."

Ishida raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. "You’ve been practicing. You couldn’t see reiraku very well before."

"Nah, I don’t practice stuff like that." Renji’s red thread hunched into the shape of a hook. "Been hanging around you and picking up moves."

"Soon you’ll be able to cross-stitch."

The tip of Renji’s red thread grabbed the zipper tab at Ishida’s collar and yanked down, still holding fast to Ishida’s shiny ribbon of soul.

There was a shirt under the sweater.

"You wear too many clothes."

"You’re not very good at maneuvering your thread."

"Doesn’t matter. As long as I’ve got yours, I can hold you down. Try something."

Ishida looked unenthusiastic. "Why?"

"I’m always too easy on you. I want to see you … squirm a little."

"Abarai." Ishida raised his arm and hiked up the sleeve to show his Quincy pendant. "I can still draw a bow. Do you want me to turn you into a pot drainer? I can still shoot twelve hundred arrows at once."

Renji made an impatient snorting noise. "No you can’t. Well, maybe you can shoot twelve or something, enough to kill me, but I’m not talking about that. Use your muscles. I know you have them. C’mon, I won’t hurt you."

One side of Ishida’s mouth rose in a knowing smile.

Renji knew his own strength. That the pressure of his mouth could leave chafed pink ovals on a lover’s neck. That his fingertips could leave tiny bruises on a lover’s thighs. Renji never hurt Ishida. There was something about Ishida’s not having been touched much, ever, in his short human life, that inspired Renji’s reverence. That enlivened his crazy, crazy lust.

"Fucking virgin," Renji would marvel. He would whisper through lips pressed against Ishida’s neck. "Never been kissed. You’ve never been kissed."

"Yes I have," Ishida would say. "You kissed me yesterday." Or this morning. Or five seconds ago.

Ishida was like this baby angel. Meant to be cherished. How could Renji wrestle him like he was some scab-covered kid from the Rukongai? Ishida hadn’t seen half the battles Renji had. Probably never slept in a tree either.

Skin like a newborn’s. No scars except for the star on his chest and that was a symmetrical, clean one. Well, not so clean. If you looked close you could see a filigree wound of red flesh and pink flesh. Like a two-tone tattoo. The prettiest scar Renji had ever laid eyes on.

"Let’s take a look at you, tough guy. You’ve got muscles. You just have to work them more."

Ishida’s chest, covered with too much shirt, heaved an exasperated breath. "What are you talking about?"

If Ishida was sensitive about his lack of plain physical strength compared to other warriors, he didn’t show it.

But that skin--that angel white, human boy skin--was sensitive. Breathe on it and it turned pink.

Renji didn’t want to do anything to that sensitive skin beyond goose-pimpling it with pleasure. Now. The red thread yanked down the zipper of Ishida’s shirt. There was the scar. The stunning scar.

Renji looked into Ishida’s eyes.

Ishida stared back, his resistance softening.

Both sweater and shirt were unzipped to their bottom latches.

Ishida’s own hands grabbed the pin of the sweater zipper and pulled it apart. Then the shirt’s. "That would’ve been beyond your dexterity," he explained. He shouldered himself out of his tops but wasn’t free of Renji’s control.

Renji would show him.

Renji’s spirit hook had dropped the clothes. Ishida’s reiraku still wound tight with it, the red ribbon latched onto Ishida’s belt-buckle.

"Watch this."

Red thread undid the buckle then slid the belt out of its loops.

"You think I’m clumsy, huh?" Renji closed the distance between his body and Ishida’s. A red and white braid of reiraku connected them. "How can you think that when--" He moved to touch Ishida’s hips where beltless jeans were held, vulnerable to gravity, but stopped. "These hands." Renji’s fingers flexed. "These hands haven’t failed you yet."

Ishida lowered his eyes. "Let go my spirit thread."

"Don’t want to try me, huh? Okay…." Renji jerked away and crossed his arms. "Take off your glasses first. I hate it when you keep pushing them up your nose in the middle of everything. I can’t roll you over to fuck you when--"

Ishida snarled and took off his glasses. The frame legs collapsed without his pushing them into place, and Renji thought that Ishida needed to tighten the screws more often or just get new glasses. Nothing fancy like from the Silver Dragonfly in the Seireitei but--

"I gave the Handicrafts Club my word," Ishida said. "So… fifteen minutes."

"No way," Renji said.

His Shinigami spirit thread reached out and kept getting longer, thinning in density, becoming transparent red as it wound in loose loops around Ishida’s body.

Ishida watched with cool blue eyes. "You realize that all these … tangles…." He lifted his arms, his glasses folded in one hand and catching the soft light of reiraku. "These tangles will only make your access to my body more difficult."

"Ha."

A sudden yank and the red thread tightened around Ishida’s wrists and elbows.

Ishida frowned. He squeezed the glasses in his hand and his knuckles went yellow-white.

"Don’t break them." Renji stepped back to admire his handiwork. "Look at you. Strung up and ready for the grill."

"Unravel me."

"I don’t think so."

Reiraku energy was spinning a light breeze as Renji exerted himself. Black hairs were flying across Ishida’s forehead. The bracelet on his right wrist sparkled--Quincy pendant suspended in the air by Shinigami spirit force.

Renji undid his obi with one tug and let his kimono drop open; the cool cloth flapped against his thighs in the reiraku breeze.

Ishida’s gaze dropped to Renji’s lower body.

"Still impresses you, huh? It’s a pretty big one for sure, but you see my dick all the time. I’d be more impressed by how strong my reiatsu is. I don’t tend to show that off unless I’m fighting."

"Fine, yes, you’re so strong, super strong, a regular Hercules--is that what you want me to say?" Ishida’s mouth twisted like it was trying to look annoyed but his cheeks were red. Other parts of his exposed body were flushing too. The only thing holding up his beltless jeans was his erection.

"Go ahead." Renji put his hands on his hips and couldn’t hide the delight in his voice. "Let me see you break free."

It’s be a pretty sight to see the kid try. Damn, Ishida had a flawless body. Hairless as an unweaned shoat’s (Renji remembered stealing handfuls of tiny suckling piglets once and grilling them with Rukia and the boys back in the Rukongai days). Smooth all over except for some black fuzz at the very top of his pants (those pants were going to fall off soon). Not an unmanly frame for a kid--Ishida had yet to grow into his body. Sometimes in clothes, the kid looked gaunt but he wasn’t, really. Nothing caved in--his lower abdomen was a solid bulge of muscle.

"What are you waiting for? I know you can fight me."

Ishida looked away. "No, I can’t."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there’s no use. Your reiatsu trumps my reiatsu. It’s just the way Quincy power works. Until you let go my spirit thread, it’s stupid to try to take on this." His chin indicated the Shinigami soul binding his arms. "And I’m not going to flap around like a dying fish just for your perverse enjoyment. So…." Ishida’s cheeks were still turning color--pink to white to pink again. His gaze was cool, though, and his unblinking eyes met Renji’s. "Let go my reiraku and I’ll fight you all you want."

Unravel me. Right. It took a lot to unravel Ishida. He was wound tight.

"Fifteen minutes, my ass."

Renji kissed him.

"Rrrrupp" was the sound Ishida made under Renji’s teeth.

Renji put his hands on the kid’s bare waist.

Yeah, that ought to do you. The length of the red thread that held the white thread was pressed between their bodies. The cord throbbed.

"Let go." Ishida spoke the words into Renji’s mouth. Sweet gods--did he even have any idea how sexy that was?

The kid wasn’t squirming at all. He was willing himself still. Stubborn bastard. Renji kissed him deeper. I’ll unravel you. I always unravel you.

"Rrruu wee" came a sound from deep in Ishida’s throat.

Renji took his mouth away. "What?"

"Suck me," Ishida breathed.

Renji shook his head.

"I’ll suck you," Ishida offered. "Let me…." Renji was kissing his throat. "I’ll suck you."

"Kid, it’s not a contest." Renji’s mouth found a hollow space under Ishida’s clavicle and nuzzled there. "What’s the hurry? Are you scared I’m going to make you look like an idiot?" Renji licked under Ishida’s arm, waited for him to flinch.

Ishida didn’t.

"It’s not fair," Ishida said. "It is going to make me look completely stupid if--" He made a barely perceptible whimpering sound as Renji began to suckle his armpit. "I have a chance if you let go my spirit thread."

"Who says I want to give you a chance?"

"Didn’t you say you wanted me to fight you?"

Renji’s mouth was brushing Ishida’s chest. His lips inhaled a nipple. The human angel tasted like soap. He must’ve showered while Renji was still asleep. Living World people washed so often…. "Nah, I just want to see you squirm." He sucked the other nipple, twirled the hard nub with his tongue.

Ishida was breathing hard but he wasn’t squirming. If they were lying down on the bed, Ishida could cover up his twitchy responses with aggressive pulling of Renji’s hair. This way he couldn’t even kiss Renji back if he wanted to. Renji didn’t want Ishida to be able to do that. He wanted Ishida to….

What was it Renji wanted exactly?

He decided to pull off those pants before they fell off, and as he was tugging, Ishida clasped his thighs against Renji’s ears.

Pure curiosity made Renji hold back. It’d be too easy to take that slim cock into his mouth. Ishida wasn’t even that hard yet.

"Please." Ishida’s voice wasn’t pleading. It wasn’t bossy--it was matter-of-fact. "Suck me, c’mon."

That was it. Renji wanted more of that.

An impatient Ishida--that was rare. That was a fantastic turn-on.

Renji extricated himself from Ishida’s slack leg-lock around his neck. Down came the pants. Off came the socks. One by one the heavy kisses landed on Ishida’s toes, arch, inside of his knee.

Renji jerked his reiraku upwards so that Ishida was pulled higher, his toes grazing the carpet. Renji parted the limp legs and sucked the inside of Ishida’s thigh. Where it tasted most like human boy. You can’t stand it, can you, kid? Wiggle around for me, okay?

But Ishida was deathly still and Renji was beginning to think that maybe the kid had dozed off when there was a rumble of throaty vowels from above and Renji rewarded them by petting Ishida’s balls.

"Ah… bah… rai."

"You already sound like an idiot so why aren’t you wiggling around like one?"

"Fuck" was Ishida’s response to Renji’s licking his balls.

"Why--?" Something occurred to Renji. "Does my squeezing onto your spirit thread keep you from moving?"

"NO!"

"Then what? Are you being a dick and just hanging there because I said I wanted you to squirm?"

"Yes!"

"Do mean you’re going to--not move until you explode and shoot a cannonball of jizz across the room?"

Ishida inhaled and exhaled before he answered. Renji looked up and saw that the kid’s face was bright red and that his eyes were clenched shut with what appeared to be colossal effort.

"Yes," said Ishida in a strained little voice.

"Fuck this shit," said Renji and with those words let go Ishida’s spirit thread and loosened the Shinigami thread binding Quincy wrists.

Ishida’s body toppled into Renji’s arms.

Renji expected a slow warm embrace. Something desperate but welcoming, a body contact of the order Renji felt whenever Ishida rolled over, sleepy and horny, in the middle of the night.

Ishida punched him.

Renji wasn’t expecting that at all so his jaw actually hurt a little.

"Damn, what’s your problem?"

Ishida was nude, blotchy with emotion and straddling Renji who was lying on his back on the bedroom carpet.

"Pervert! I was only going to be gone a few hours. When did you learn this reiraku manipulation? You’ve been… practicing."

The word was like an insult. Renji didn’t practice sneaky stuff like that. He just tried new moves on impulse. He’d been rather wowed with himself, actually.

The white threads were around Renji’s arms again but they hadn’t tightened when Renji shot back with red ribbons around Ishida’s throat.

"Ah ha!" Renji felt triumphant. "You can match me now. Why don’t you see if you can catch my reiraku like I did yours?" He shot ribbons around Ishida’s waist. "Bet you can’t."

"Crazy Shinigami!" Ishida opened his mouth to yell something more but a red ribbon gagged him and so he lunged himself at Renji, fists pounding.

Renji rolled Ishida over easily but white reiraku binding made any aggressive efforts after that a struggle.

Over and over.

Ishida on top, Renji on top.

Red thread, white soul. A tangle of spirit that Renji recognized from times they’d fucked, only now the energy was visible. Hot bands across his straining muscles. A pulling away, a pulling towards.

Ishida slammed his hands on Renji’s shoulders. To push him off? To just smack him? Ishida kissed Renji. Renji felt around the floor for Ishida’s glasses. Funny that he cared. Well, no he didn’t care. Let the glasses get crushed. Ishida needed a new pair anyway.

Nobody was winning. Everything was fighting. It was plain that Ishida wasn’t going to have his little fifteen minutes, though, so in that sense Renji was top.

Yeah, they were going to have their fun-raiser right here on the floor.

Renji kissed Ishida. Mint toothpaste. He could taste the agitation too. The cock that pressed against Renji’s was less warm than the reiraku heat, then it was just as warm, then it was hotter.

And the spirit threads grew longer, curling around everything, entangling spite and want and sweat and need. Renji’s tangled red hairs, Ishida’s straight black ones that whipped Renji’s face. A blur of confrontations and demands. Red threads, white threads.

Until Renji and Ishida were so wrapped up in one another that they weren’t fighting anymore.

End