I don't own anything but my ideas… still.

But First…

Well, you all begged and I caved. Hope you little morons are all happy with making me suffer through writing another chapter to this stupid thing! JUST KIDDING! I actually wanted to write an epilogue for this already, but I was lazy, so to everyone who didn't ask for another chapter, get down on your knees and kiss the Achilles heels of everyone who did! Here it is! The epilogue you all asked for!

To thank a few people, here are their reviews:

Tigeress11: "Good start. even though this is a one-shot i realy think it has potential to be a great story." Everyone bow down to this wonderful reviewer who gave me the push to write an epilogue, and she gets extra cyber hugs for being the first reviewer!

ChaoticMayhem: "On a scale of 1-10, this is out the roof. Man, it's really good. I luvvvvvvvvvvv." This was the review that actually got me to start thinking about what I could write for the epilogue. Thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuu!

Ladywolfinmt:"I really liked this story, you caught both characters personalities perfectly. I hope you will write a sequel, or at least another lemony Bleach fiction." Heh, I was gonna be all lame and mother-like and keep the epilogue sappy with no smex, but then I read this and I came back to my senses. I can't believe the thought even crossed my mind. WHAT WAS I THINKING?

x pink cloud x: "I love that it's long for one-shot at the same time I wish it were multichapter. Kudos for AU. I give it an 8! You should do one with Byakuya's POV! *puppy dog eyes*" I know! I always write one-shots that are like, eight pages long! I wrote a two-shot for a SasuNaru fic (.net/story/story_edit_?storyid=5976626/1/) that was 59 pages! But I can't get enough in if it isn't long enough! And everyone thank this reviewer for the end! (It's probably not exactly what you wanted *wink wink nudge nudge say no more* but I thought more of a switch would be too much for this story)

To everyone else, Kat, Jigoku Hoshi, Toya, The 13th Jinx, alliefan, Addictedreader09, SpookyWeasel, littlexcutiexqueen, None (ya know, you could've put an actual made up name in there…) thanks for your reviews!

XXX

I feel sick.

I'm going to be sick. I just know it.

I can feel the acid bubbling at the back of my throat.

My stomach had jumped into my mouth when Byakuya had told me and I haven't been able to swallow it back into my abdominal cavity, where it is supposed to fucking be!

"I'm have been invited to a ball thrown by a judge of one of my previous cases, as a thank you for giving him good reason to throw the defendant in jail for life with no chance of parole. Apparently it was not the first time this man had appeared before court with serious crimes, but he hadn't had sufficient lawyers against him until then. Rukia and that boyfriend"—he spat the word—"of hers have already been invited and will meet with us there."

"Us?" Renji picked up on the key word easily.

"It is in one week, you are coming." And with that he had turned and strode away, his heels quiet against the floor, his head held higher than the sky, his back straight and almost rigid with his perfect posture and his eyes closed calmly as he left Renji standing there, stunned.

I can feel it. I'm going to be sick. There isn't even a question of it.

Byakuya Kuchiki, my god, the reason I breathe, the reason my heart still beats in my chest, my lover of now three years, wants me to attend a very public, very out in the open ball with at least a hundred other people there.

Is he insane? I'll cough wrong or something and embarrass him!

I've been around him so casually in public though, all of the papers say there are rumors that I'm his secret apprentice, or a personal secretary or something, so there will be no problem with people seeing me with him in public, but if I slip up… my stomach lurches again and I lean to the side over the toilet before my lunch settles.

My hands are shaking as I attempt for the fourth time to put up my hair. Attempt. I quickly tear out the hair tie and try to push my hair out of my eyes. I'm shaking so much it even looks like the mirror is vibrating in front of me.

I let out a frustrated shout as the fifth attempt to tie up my goddamn hair also tanks and I lean against the sink, letting my hair fall around my face and hide my view of the mirror as I grit my teeth. Two hours. Two hours left until I'm supposed to be waiting at the front door for him to pick me up after his case. I spent all morning making sure I was perfect, and I spent all yesterday buying my first suit (he left me enough money for it to buy a house and a car of my own), a black fitted suit, a deep red shirt to match my hair (nothing else looks good on me for suits), a black tie, a deep red studded buckle and a black silk scarf-like thing in place of sunglasses (which I knew I wouldn't be allowed to wear), and I spent all day three days ago giving myself pep talks about today. I desperately hope the buckle is ok, I couldn't find anything else. I feel sick.

It will be strange—for both me and him—to not do anything after the court case. I'll be able to handle it, I've been too nervous for hours to feel any sort of horniness, and I don't doubt that he wont be able to handle himself—he can handle everything—it will just be strange.

I nearly tear a ligament in my neck as a sharp but quiet knock at the door makes me jump out of my skin. He's there, standing there, watching me about to hurl. By the way, now that he's standing there, the urge to spew my guts into the sink has doubled ten-fold. Even better.

He doesn't look disgusted, mad, upset… hell, he doest even look surprised to see me like this. My shaking has stopped from an overload of fear, so I guess that's a bonus, but how big of one is impossible to tell at the second. You'll have to come back for the verdict later.

Slowly, extremely slowly, he lowers his hand from the door and walks over to me, his hands lightly in his black suit pockets, his white shirt flawless and perfect without a single wrinkle even though he's been wearing it for a few hours now. I feel a little less catatonic when I see he's wearing the scarf I met him in, the one that he wears everywhere except for where he's strictly forbidden because of his job (court rooms). Wearing it means he's relaxed, so I don't have to worry about him being too horny to go—though I wouldn't mind not going—but only a little bit. My neck's still wound tight enough for it to pop off any second like a jack-in-the-box.

I watch, frozen from shock, staring into the mirror, as he steps up behind me and threads his hands through my hair, pulling it back. I feel something behind my naval jump, but I beat it down with a stick before I do something stupid and unbelievably embarrassing in this brand new suit that I need in two hours.

He holds out his hand and I robotically place the hair tie in his pale palm, my eyes still glued to the mirror as I watch him tie my hair up, as calm about it and doing it well enough so it looked like he's been doing it for years. Granted, his hair is fairly long, so this shouldn't be completely new, but he never puts his up, and he's sure as hell never put mine up before. I can't even blink when he picks the black silk cloth up off the sink and folds it before it's the right size and slips it over the tattoos on my forehead, tying it where I always do right on my temple. My knuckles are as white as the porcelain counter from how hard I'm gripping the sink and my eyes are going dry from lack of blinking. He's done, and waiting for my reaction, but I still can't find the part of my brain that controls my movement.

"Two hours, Renji," he tells me before walking out of the bathroom. "There is food downstairs that I brought home. Eat so you don't lose your stomach later."

My stomach almost pitches itself out of my throat at that.

Later

"Renji, this is not the first time you've been to something like this."

"What if I do something stupid?"

"Do not shout, Renji."

I've never shut my mouth faster in my life. My gaze snaps straight ahead and I clench my hands in my lap to keep from breathing wrong. I'm going to be sick, there isn't even a question about it.

He sighs, apparently he didn't want me to react so hugely. "There is no one there that should intimidate you."

No, there isn't… except you. I'm not afraid of going, I've been to hundreds of places like this. The problem is… that you intimidate me. If I do something wrong… if I screw up in anyway… you can toss me aside so easily… that scares me more than anything, Byakuya.

He glides the black car up to the door of an at least 21 story floor hotel and puts the engine in neutral, making the silent engine quieter than it already was. I can hear my heart in my ears.

I force myself out of the car after wrestling for a minute to get free of my seat belt and growling at the fucking doorman who had the gall to laugh at me. The valet takes Byakuya's place in the drivers seat and pulls away, and it would be impossible to miss how much in awe he is at how quiet the beautiful car is. The doorman has gone from laughing at me under his breath to glaring at me with all of his inner hate. He thinks I'm a whore. Son of a bitch, does he even have a brain? People never bring their personal whores with them anywhere important.

I fall into step behind Byakuya and shoot a glare at the doorman as I walk by, making him stumble back. Yeah, bitch, I grew up on the streets, don't fuck with me unless you want to loose your front teeth. You can kiss your job goodbye then. The red carpet is surprisingly louder than Byakuya's engine beneath the stupid shiny shoes I was required to wear, and the bright lights and everything gold around me in the hotel is practically blinding me. Fucking rich people. I swear, money just rains out of the sky for them.

I follow Byakuya down the long hallway and through double doors fifty feet high, and then down marble stairs to a ballroom packed with anyone who's anyone. I see Isoroku Yamamoto immediately, he's the mummy with the beard down to the floor and everyone who's desperate for attention flocked around him. Other people start to pop out of the crowd slowly, but at least I see them before we reach the end of the staircase.

Yoruichi Shihoin, another brilliant lawyer, is wearing a red dress with a plunging neckline down to her naval that only she could pull off without looking like a lap dancer or a call girl. They aren't open about it, but it's pretty obvious that she and Byakuya are competing to be the better lawyer. Her husband, Kisuke Urahara is there, a very successful inventor and scientist, (the only reason she didn't take his name is because she's from a long line of nobles that wouldn't let her take his name if they were to get married) and their three children Soi Fon, Jinta and Ururu are there, all of them adopted. Kenpachi Zaraki, a military captain and his lieutenant, Ikkaku Madarame, and second lieutenant, Yumichika Ayasegawa are there. Kenpachi's harassing Ichigo Kurosaki while Ikkaku is suffering with watching Yachiru Zaraki, Kenpachi's daughter, and Rukia is pretending that she doesn't know Ichigo from the way she looks ticked and is very interested to talking to a reporter. I almost feel bad for Ichigo, Kenpachi's a psycho.

It's going to be a long night. Someone walks by with a tray of champagne and I pull two off of it, passing one to Byakuya who barely nods a thank you. I'm used to it.

"Kuchiki-san!"

I look over to the loud voice as a reporter bursts out of the crowd with a tape recorder on her side and a pad of paper and a pen in her hands. She looks about as excited as a kid in a pet store filled with puppies, her knees are trembling as she put the pen to the paper.

"There have been rumors flowing out of the court room that Sosuke Aizen now has life thanks to your brilliant skills, is this true?"

"I am not authorized to say anything until the government has released any information on the subject." Byakuya's face is cold and blank, like always. Sometimes I wonder if he even learned how to show emotions. I've been close enough to see his emotions released to the fullest, but even then it isn't much.

The reporter's face drops like her mom just told her that she can't have a puppy, but then she realizes that if she asks her dad and he says yes she could get the puppy and turns on me like she's stalking her pray. Shit.

"Renji Abarai, correct?"

"…Yes."

She juggles her pen in the hand with her notepad and stick out her hand all to eagerly, I grimace mentally and let her take it and pump it before I pull my hand away. I'm going have to wash it now, she's wearing way too much perfume and frankly it's overpowering.

"Chizuru Honsho, it's an honor Abarai-san. As Byakuya Kuchiki's personal assistant, how would you say that the past few days have been for Kuchiki-san?"

Christ, it couldn't have been an easy question that I could just bullshit. I tip the champagne back into my mouth as I try to think up something plausible to say without embarrassing Byakuya, when all of a sudden he speaks up.

"Renji isn't my assistant."

"Oh?" Chizuru turns back to him, her pen scribbling something across the pad. "But he's so often seen with you, Kuchiki-san. It's not unknown that Abarai-san and Kuchiki-chan grew up together, are you close to him for that reason?"

"No, Renji is my lover."

The champagne explodes from my mouth, drenching Ichigo who had just come over to say god knows what, and now he's pounding me on the back while I cough up a lung into my hand. Somehow I manage to look up at Byakuya before my eyes blur over, and it just makes me hack more at how calm his face is. The whole ball is silent aside from me dying from suffocation.

The. Entire. Fucking. Ball. Everyone heard. Chizuru's pen is about to snap in her shocked grip; ink is already leaking down her thumb.

"Your… lover?" she repeats quietly, her face lit up with light brighter than the sun. Her father just told her she could have every puppy in the store.

"That is correct," Byakuya answers coolly. I still can't breathe and my back is sore from Ichigo hitting me so hard.

I'm going to hurl.

Three Days Later

I don't even remember what happened after that. Somehow I got home and woke up in bed at around noon, with my head still fogged over. I wonder if I passed out from lack of oxygen.

Presently I'm sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee that I'm about to break from how tightly I'm gripping it. Naturally, I turned on the TV and the news comes on. Of course. And I'm numb from what they're saying, so I can even changed the channel with the damn remote that I'm also about to break in my hand.

"—and during a ball three days ago held by the famed judge Isoroku Yamamoto, who put Sosuke Aizen away for life, some shocking news was revealed. What exactly happened, Mizuiro?"

"Tatsuki, it was a shocker. Our reporter Chizuru was attending the ball and was interviewing the also famed Byakuya Kuchiki on the Sosuke Aizen court case, which he refused to reveal anything on, but like always Renji Abarai was with him. because of how often the two are seen together, it was assumed that Abarai was probably his personal assistant, but when Chizuru asked Kuchiki, he said that Abarai was actually not his assistant, but his lover."

I heard the remote crack.

"Everyone was blown away, apparently the entire ball was silent. Kuchiki then went on the clear away any rumors that have manifested themselves over time, revealing that he and Abarai have been together for over three years and he's known Abarai since the younger man was only fourteen."

"Wow, that's a long time for no one to know anything, some things might have been suspected, but I guess no one really made any guesses."

"Abarai recently only turned twenty-two, while Kuchiki is turning thirty in January, so there is an age difference, but so far it hasn't seemed to affect the newly-out couple. Kuchiki graduated from both high school and college early, explaining how he could be so successful as a lawyer at such a young age, but now people are asking if he will continue his success now that the couple is out."

"There are many people that are against homosexuals, but it seems that he is at this point still the highest in use and success rate as a lawyer."

"Well, whether or not he goes for men or women he is still the best lawyer around, so I don't think people will stop hiring him to win their cases just because of that. If they want to win a case, they're most likely going to hire him."

"We spoke to Rukia Kuchiki, Byakuya Kuchiki's sister, who said that she 'had suspected it about Byakuya nee-sama because of how often he is with Renji, but I don't think I ever really made the connection, but I think they fit together. Renji and I both grew up on the streets, so we have never expected or gotten too much affection, and because Renji isn't looking for that, I think he's good for Byakuya nee-sama.' Now, back to the evening—"

A pale hand slips the remote from my hand gently and turns off the TV with me still frozen on the couch, my hand up like I'm still holding the remote. The couch dips a little bit to my side as he sits down, but I can't even blink, let alone turn to face him.

"Renji."

My heart's spluttering like its engine is about to die. He might… lose some people hiring him… because of me? Why would he do that? Why the hell would he say that? Why the hell would he come out in front of all those people like that? Rukia didn't even know!

"Why… did you…" I choke out. I can't even say the whole sentence. Fuck.

"Renji, look at me."

I can't. I literally can't move my neck. I twitch slightly when he threads a hand into my hair, but luckily not enough for him to see. It's so… unlike him. what's going on? That's it, an evil twin, a sick brother that looks a lot like him. A lot like him. A sick, sick, sick brother.

"Renji, I heard you that night."

What? Was I talking in my sleep?

"When you said that you loved me."

…

…No way.

No. Fucking. Way. There's no way… just no way… this can't be happening…

That's it. My life is ending. He heard me. That's it.

"You heard me?" I'm whimpering. If everything else wasn't enough, now on top of everything I'm whimpering, like a crying child, like a two year old.

"Renji," he says gently, taking my chin gently in his hand and turning me to look into his eyes.

"Kuchiki-san, I..." What am I even supposed to say to that? I'll get my things? I'll pack up and go stay with Shuuhei until I figure out how to fix my fucked up life? I'll—

"Say it again."

"…Huh?"

"Say it again," he whispers huskily, leaning closer and closer until I can feel his scorching breath on my lips. He wants me to…?

"I... I lo…"

"Say it, Renji," he traces his tongue carefully across my top lip, slowly, just to drive me mad. I'm about to lose it.

"I... love you…"

"Again."

"…I love you."

He's silent, watching me carefully, measuring my every movement and reaction.

I swallow, but my voice is much firmer this time, much more strong. "I love you. I love you, Byakuya Kuchiki."

And very carefully, giving me time to close my eyes, he leans in and presses his lips to mine. Soft, and gently, like… like he loves me too, not like he was just looking for my body.

Hah, there's no way. I don't care, just as long as he keeps kissing me.

And then he pulls away slowly, and I actually whimper like a lost puppy. Pathetic. His thumb is caressing my cheek, drawing small patterns and circles on my skin, his pale complexion so much lighter than mine.

And then all at once he leans in, pressing our foreheads together and closing his eyes, and five words slip past his flawless lips.

"I love you too, Renji."

Five words.

Four if you didn't include my name.

And yet…

They hold more than I could ever ask for.

More meaning.

More hope.

More happiness.

More shock.

More confusion.

…More love.

"…Y-You…?" I can't get the rest of the words out of my throat, let alone past my tongue and into the air, but we have known each other since I was fourteen and he was twenty-one, and he knows what I couldn't say.

"Yes," he nods gently against my forehead, his eyes still closed and mine wide with shock.

…He loves me.

I'd never asked for anything more… and now…

He was giving me this, the greatest thing I could ever want, or need.

I love him, with everything in my existence, and he loves me.

I can't tell if my heart is going to shatter or burst.

Everything is a blur, my tearing at his shirt, his lips buried in my neck… I'm numb with happiness.

He loves me.

He loves me.

He loves me.

Nothing else matters.

I throw my head back, a loud cry bursting from my lips as he sinks his teeth into my neck, one hand at the back of my neck and the other pushing down my jeans. I don't care, I can't feel the pain. My heart is soaring right now, someone could impale me with a rusty shrimp fork and I wouldn't feel it as long as he doesn't stop touching me. This is what I've needed.

I need him.

Byakuya Kuchiki.

I grab the sides of his head and yank him up into a kiss that makes my head swim as I lift my hips and he slides me jeans down, beginning to play with the hem of my boxers. I want to scream at the slow pace, but that would mean having to break the kiss.

My hand drops and grabs his length, pumping him and making him groan into the kiss, his breathing ragged. Finally he yanks my boxers off and grabs my own length. My back arches beyond how I am supposed to bend under him and I gasp so loudly I can hear it around the kiss.

I'm writhing under him, and I pretty sure the only reason he isn't thrashing too is because he's using his body to anchor me to the couch and is trying to pull my hair out of the high ponytail. He finally gets the tie out and my red hair falls around my face as he moves his now-free hand around my back to slide into my entrance as I arch again.

Our tongues are the ones thrashing now as I stroke his length harder before all of a sudden he stops me with a strong hand clamping around my wrist as he lifts my leg around his waist.

"No more," he growls softly into my neck and I lean back into the arm of the couch, just concentrating on his hot breath and the way his lips feel against my skin.

Oh this is going to hurt… and I have to honestly say my body's been screaming for it for days.

I swallow as he pushes three fingers into me all at once, making me hiss, I'm already arc-shaped and I wasn't even supposed to be able to bend this much. Fuck, that hurts. And then before he's barely started he's yanked his fingers out of me and positioned himself in front of me.

Ok, just relax, or this is going to kill—

I can't hide the shocked look on my face as he suddenly leans in and presses his lips to mine, rocking forward so be barely pushes into me, rocking back and then forward again, pushing in another millimeter.

"Mmffggh," I splutter, grasping the sides of his face to push him back, looking into his now-confused eyes with my own quirked eyebrow.

"What are you doing?"

He looks like he's trying not to smack me out of aggravation; he's fighting not to role his eyes.

"I'm trying not to hurt you."

…

My jaw has to be on the floor.

What is he, an idiot? He got me all worked up for the pain with almost no foreplay and now he doesn't want to finish it because he's afraid he'll hurt me?

…Yeah, fuck that.

I reach around him and wrap my arms around his back, moving my legs to grip at his waist. I can't exactly identify the expression on his face. Annoyance? Confusion? Anticipation? Let's compromise. It's a mix.

I wait for a second to make sure he isn't going to do anything stupid, like move, once I've got a tight hold on him, and then in one movement, ripping the band-aid right off, I throw myself backwards, yanking him into my chest at the same time as I squeeze my legs, forcing him into me.

…

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK. FUCK does it hurt!

He shifts his arms, trying to push himself up to look at me to see if I'm all right.

Jesus, don't move! I can't stop myself from choking out a hollow sound halfway between a cry and a squeak, but thank god he stops moving.

"J-Just, give me a second," I shudder against him, my arms squeezing to hold him tighter.

After about seven minutes of wasteful motionless lying in the living room on the cramped couch I'm finally able to move enough to just rock back and forth under him, and he takes that as his cue to push himself up, a cold stare on his face.

"Are you all right?" he asks stiffly.

Better than I've ever been. There is no way I could explain it to him. He won't understand how those five words affected me so much.

"I love you too, Renji."

The pain that's still supposed to be there is completely gone.

I strain my back to lean up, pressing my lips gently to his. "You have no idea," I whisper huskily, squeezing myself around him and watching him grunt unevenly, and not soon enough, he moves, pulling back and pushing forward again, his eyes shut tightly, and I'm moaning under him as he finally picks up speed.

"K-Kuchiki-san…" I groan, my eyes rolling back into my head.

"Say my name, Renji," he whispers, running his tongue down my neck.

I swallow, a shocked smile pulling at my lips. "…B-Bya… kuya," and then I scream as he yanks out and slams back into me. I can't explain how amazing it feels on my tongue.

*Byakuya POV*

Later

I run my hands idly through Renji's stunning red hair, holding him carefully with his back against my chest and listening to the steady sound of his breathing. It amazes me how still and calm he can be when he sleeps, especially when he does things like taking me in him all at once when he's awake, like he did just a few short hours earlier.

"…B-Bya… kuya."

The way my name sounded on his tongue, the way he looked at me when he said it, it was long overdue. I can't remember a time when I didn't want him to call me Kuchiki-san. Even when he was only fourteen, a gangly, lanky, awkward teenager that was striving to be everything he couldn't be, I wanted more than just passing pleasantries because of Rukia from him.

I look down again, running my hand across his forehead, marveling at his boldness, or more specifically, at the display of black markings running across his forehead, chest, back and arms.

"Renji isn't my assistant."

"Oh? But he's so often seen with you, Kuchiki-san. It's not unknown that Abarai-san and Kuchiki-chan grew up together, are you close to him for that reason?"

"No, Renji is my lover."

I'm still not entirely sure what spurred me to say it. His expression looked so small and frail… but somehow I think it was more along the lines of just being him. There is something about this brash, eccentric, smug, cocky, determined man. He affects me in ways others couldn't even hope to achieve. Because not only did I say that, but he, by just being him, forced me to my knees and I said what I never thought I would.

"I love you, Renji," I whisper again, leaning in to press my lips to the florid tattoos decorating his forehead.

That will never change. I can feel it in my core.

^—^ How was that? XD

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