Title: Never Speak of This Again
Characters: Abarai Renji, Ishida Uryuu
Warnings: Cursing and smexing.
Renji looked up into the Quincy’s suddenly terrified blue eyes, and tried to loosen his fingers from where he was certain they were leaving bruises on the boy’s shoulders. "I’m sorry. It’s been a difficult time for both of us, I think."
Ishida looked down at him in a sort of betrayed horror, and Renji looked away toward the window. "I’m sorry," the Shinigami repeated, "I was afraid you were just fucking with my head. It’s practically a sport in some parts of Sereitei. I’m a funny guy — a horse’s ass to everyone — it’s not like they can hurt me. But you… I couldn’t…"
Renji paused for a moment, trying to regain a coherent thread of thought. "I’d probably just have taken it out on Ichigo," he laughed.
The Quincy reached out, awkwardly, and ran the fingertips of his left hand down the line of Renji’s jaw. "I’m sure you’ll find something else to take out on Ichigo, now that I’ve deprived you of this stunning opportunity."
As he turned his face back toward the boy perched across his hips, Renji reached up and captured Ishida’s hand, moving it from where it lay, along the angle of his jaw, to his lips. He kissed the Quincy’s fingers softly. "It would take an awful lot to make me quite that annoyed, again," he offered with a faint smile.
Smirking playfully, again, Ishida plucked his hand from the Shinigami’s grasp. "I could just take my hand back and go get breakfast, if you’d prefer. I’d hate to miss out on the macho posturing, later."
Renji grinned and rolled over, pinning Ishida to the bed. "Don’t you dare." There was a long pause. "You really want to see me take it out of Ichigo?"
The Quincy failed to look entirely innocent.
"I’ll find something to be annoyed about. But, right now, I think I have better things to do." Nervously, Renji ran his thumb across Ishida’s cheekbone, and placed a kiss on the boy’s forehead.
Ishida looked vaguely irritated at Renji’s hesitation and flicked a finger in the air, gesturing for the Shinigami to roll back over. Renji looked surprised, but did as he was told, and the Quincy climbed back onto him, with a wicked little smile. The blue-eyed boy leaned down and firmly pressed his lips against those of the startled Shinigami beneath him. Taken by surprise by Ishida’s sudden straightforwardness, Renji gasped, opening his mouth to the boy’s sweet and talented tongue.
This can’t really be Ishida. This has to be some strange joke. I’m going to be so disappointed, later, but — The thought terminated in a hazy swirl as he felt the Quincy’s teeth pulling on his lip, just barely hard enough to draw blood. He grabbed the boy’s hips and arced upward, unable to form coherent thoughts, as a desperate moan rolled out of the back of his throat.
The Quincy gasped, suddenly sitting up and parting his lips just enough to interrupt the smear of blood that started on his top lip, crossed one tooth, and stained jut a bit of his lower lip. Renji, blood still barely congealing where it leaked from his lip, slid his left hand up the boy’s side, grabbed just the tips of his hair, and dragged Ishida back down to lick his lips clean.