Title: Never Speak of This Again
Characters: Abarai Renji, Ishida Uryuu
Warnings: Cursing and smexing.
Notes: I want to thank Nobiki for making me get off my ass and write another chapter.
He was pinned still as the blue eyes met his own. "Tell me this is just because I’m leaning on you wrong. Tell me this is a pinched nerve, an accident, purely incidental," the Quincy demanded quietly.
Renji just looked away, rolling his head to the side to study the pattern in the rice paper of the walls. He preferred not to lie, and Ishida was asking to be lied to. He hoped to just wait out the moment. Maybe Rukia would wake up and start a fight with Ichigo — that would be distracting. He willed it with all his heart, but nothing happened.
With a small sigh, he looked up again. The boy was still perched across his hips, grasping his half-hard flesh, and glaring at him with a look that could cut steel. "I can’t tell you that," Renji said, hollowly. "Or, I could tell you that, but it wouldn’t be true. We could pretend this was a kabuki performance, and I’m just an actor, and I could tell you anything you wanted to hear."
Renji continued to run his mouth in the false glee of his panicked state. Under any other circumstances, he’d have been hilarious, but Ishida just stared down, blue eyes filled with icy malice. The Quincy, it seemed, was unamused, and gripped with a sudden terror that seemed to correspond to the hand on his cock, Renji talked even faster.
"…and there was this fantastic play that I went to with Rukia, one time, where all of the actors were naked, because the director thought it added honesty to the already tragic plot. I don’t know, I’m not much of a theatre-goer, but Rukia thought the guy was a complete idiot and Kuchiki-taichou thought it was brilliant and refused to explain why, but I took his word for it, because, well, he’s the Captain, right? So, then…"
And suddenly the hysterical babbling stopped. It took Renji a moment to figure out why he’d stopped making sound, but it seemed to have something to do with the fact that he couldn’t open his mouth… because Ishida’s hand was covering it. There, that makes sense.
The Quincy smiled down at him like fox looks at a meadow vole. "Shut up, Shinigami," he commanded, and Renji blinked up at him, heart fluttering. "You’re really afraid of me, aren’t you?"
Renji nodded vigorously, and Ishida moved his hand away from Renji’s mouth. "Scared shitless. I keep thinking you’re going to do something irreparable to the one part of my body I’d really miss."
"What, this?" Ishida asked, as innocently as he could manage, sliding his hand gently up and down Renji’s length. Renji arched and whimpered beneath him.
"If you break my arms, I can probably fix them. If you break that, I’m not sure even Unohana-taichou is going to be able to help me."
Ishida laughed and tightened his grip slightly. "And if I don’t break it? If I just play with it?"
Renji bit his lip and squirmed at the increased pressure. "Then you should move anything you dont want to wash out, later. I can’t help it."
"Do you want me?" the Quincy demanded, leaning down to touch his forehead to the Shinigami’s, "Or do you just want to fuck?"
Renji’s back arched and his hips thrust up of their own accord as he heard that word pass from the subdued and proper Quincy’s lips. He had never wanted to fuck as much as he did in that instant — if only because there was usually a great deal less effort involved in claiming a partner — and he knew that nothing would satisfy that lust but the stunning example of distinctly-not-a-Shinigami that currently had his entire attention.
"Ishida-san," he panted, "I want you. And I want to hear you say that again…"
Ishida smirked and lowered his lips to directly beside the Shinigami’s ear. "You want to hear me ask you if you want to fuck?"
A pained groan escaped Renji’s lips as every muscle in his body tightened. "Oh, yes…"
Ishida, of course, was not unaffected. He had never before been aware of how intensely erotic complete control really was, and now, watching the effect of the power he wielded was enough to make him intensely aware of his own flesh, and the desire he had to possess Renji completely.
"Yes, you want to hear it, or yes, you want to fuck?" he asked mischievously.
"Oh, god. Either. Both. Anything." Renji’s eyes were squeezed shut as he begged, trying and failing to regain control of his body.
"And what if I say I want to fuck you?" Ishida whispered, playfully.
Renji’s eyes shot open and he grabbed the Quincy by both shoulders, hauling him back up to where their eyes could meet. "Don’t joke with me about that," he snarled, "Whatever else you have in mind, whatever you want to do to me, don’t say that unless you mean it."
The Quincy’s eyes widened like saucers, and both his hands fluttered up to grab at Renji’s wrists. "I wasn’t joking!" he insisted, "I wouldn’t joke about that! Someone might take me seriously!"