Warnings: Hoo boy, lessee...Corset-play, Bondage, Rimming, D/s (sort of?), Breath-play, Toys, a touch of Fluff, M/M Sex. If I forgot any, I apologize.

Summary: This is what Kensei and Shuuhei get up to in the office once everyone is gone for the day. Kensei always knows what Shuuhei needs—usually before Shuuhei knows it himself.

A/N: So this is what I come up with when I'm supposed to be doing homework. Comments are always appreciated, and much love to you all! Dedicated to my bb, xglimpsex!

He panted softly as smooth satin and stiff whalebone tightened around him, the deft hands on the corset's laces drawing him in slowly but inexorably, compressing his already narrow waist and ribs until Shuuhei thought he might pass out from both lack of oxygen and his heightening arousal. He moaned helplessly as his lover tied the laces off, sealing him into this most erotic of prisons, and the sure, comforting touch of those gloved hands stroking along his satin encased ribs ratcheted his arousal up another notch.

"So fucking sexy, Shuuhei."

Kensei's low voice in his ear— hoarse and roughened with a mix of approval and his own need—tore another moan from the younger man's throat, and he leaned his weight back against his lover's taller, broader form, turning his face up with a soft, pleading noise that was caught and silenced by the Vizard's mouth. Large hands smoothed a path down to slim hips, gripping hard enough to bruise as he feasted upon Shuuhei's lips, teeth and tongue eating at his lover's mouth, swallowing down the arousing moans that poured from the smaller man's throat as Shuuhei sank back against him fully, a gesture of trust that encompassed not only the surrender of his body but that of his entire being to Kensei. And just like every other time, the older man was brought to his fucking knees by his lover's faith in him—in them.

Shuuhei's breath came in excited little pants as he pulled away from the kiss, dizzy from the compression of the corset and his own flaring need—need that burned even brighter as he met his lover's eyes and saw that the gold irises had been all but swallowed by widely dilated pupils—and he held that blown gaze as he licked his lips slowly:

"More. Take me, Kensei."

The Vizard shuddered at the demand, closing his eyes as he struggled for control, his hands tightening even harder around Shuuhei's hips as he fought against the desire to just toss him down and devour him whole. His brat would be the death of him.

Instead he turned them, walking them both towards the shining mahogany expanse of desk painted in the dying rays of the setting sun, wordlessly lifting Shuuhei onto its smooth, warm surface and sliding a hand from his lover's hip up the slim line of his back to press between delicately-wrought shoulder blades, indicating with gentle pressure what he wanted. The younger man obeyed, lowering his shoulders and chest to the wood, lifting his beautiful, silk-covered ass high even as he spread his knees further apart for balance, letting out a low, breathy gasp as the corset compressed his torso more firmly in this position, restricting his breath even more.

Kensei observed him quietly for a moment, giving Shuuhei the chance to call a halt if he needed to—his lover knew damn well what his limitations were, and though it had taken him some time, the Vizard had finally succeeded in making the younger man understand that he didn't expect nor want the younger man to force himself to do something he didn't like or couldn't handle just to please him—but his lover remained silent save for the shallow panting of his breath, indicating he wished to continue.

Mouth quirking upwards in a small smile, Kensei stepped closer to the desk, stroking one hand up a long leg sheathed in sheer black silk—he would be sure to thank Lisa for the stockings later—and leaned over to open a drawer in his desk, pulling out two sets of soft leather manacles. Shuuhei had been horrified when he realized his lover kept restraints in the office, but he'd quickly gotten over it the first time he was laid across the shining surface of Kensei's desk and bound to the heavy piece of furniture, arms above his head and legs spread wide to leave him open and vulnerable to his captain's hands and mouth and finally, after nearly two hours of teasing, his steel-hard cock. Ever since that day, Shuuhei had never once objected to the presence of the cuffs in Kensei's desk, and had only set a single condition in their use of them in the office: never during working hours—a condition the Vizard had readily agreed to, as the very thought of anyone besides himself seeing Shuuhei bound and wanton and begging for his touch made him see red. This side of Shuuhei was for his eyes and his eyes alone, and he planned on keeping it that way.

The fukutaicho moaned quietly as he heard the soft jingle of chain behind him, struggled to lift his hips higher though the rigid boning of the corset prevented him from arching his back any further; his lover's big hand smoothed along his leg, fingers just grazing the tender bare skin above black stocking, stroked back down to close about his ankle which was then swiftly enclosed in soft leather. He breathed out shakily as he felt his other ankle bound, eyes slipping closed as he pressed a burning cheek against the smooth surface of the desk beneath him; of all the things that Kensei asked of him, being exposed like this was the most difficult for him to do, and though his lover had made it clear that he could say 'no' to anything he wasn't comfortable with, Shuuhei knew the Vizard enjoyed seeing him this way—bound and displayed, just for him—and he wanted to give Kensei this.

Warm, sword-calloused fingers closed around one wrist, thumb stroking soothing circles against the tender inner flesh, and Shuuhei sighed in quiet pleasure, some of his discomfort melting away at the reassuring touch; despite the gruff bluntness and air of command that constantly surrounded his captain, in these most private of moments Kensei laid aside the role of superior officer to take up that of lover, and no matter how rough their joining, Shuuhei always had the sense that he was cherished as something infinitely precious to the Vizard.

His arms were drawn behind his back and bound at the base of his spine, forcing his back into a deeper arch despite the restrictive embrace of the corset wrapped around him, his breaths coming in shallow pants now, and he felt Kensei's hand tighten just above one manacled wrist:

"Too much?"

The thread of concern in his lover's voice steadied him; if he said 'yes', Kensei would release him immediately, spend the rest of the night loving him slowly and tenderly in apology—but Shuuhei didn't want that. He shook his head and forced himself to sip at the air delicately instead of trying to suck in deep breaths, giving himself over to the sensation of being so tightly bound instead of fighting his restraints, and his ragged breathing slowed, evening out though it remained shallow.

"Keep going," he murmured, relaxing as much as he was able to within the rigid confines of the corset and his bindings, and after a long moment's hesitation in which he thought Kensei might decide to unbind him anyway—it wouldn't be the first time his older lover had called a halt to their play despite Shuuhei asking him to continue, and every time it irritated the dark-haired man to no end—the hand on his arm finally moved, sliding down to stroke his ass while the Vizard's free hand slipped between his wide-spread thighs, palming his already-leaking cock through the black silk and squeezing gently, the action dragging a breathy moan from his throat.

"So good, Shuuhei. So fucking perfect," Kensei murmured, leaning down to press his lips against the thin line of pale skin visible between the bottom edge of the corset and the fragile silk panties, feeling the younger man tremble beneath him. Sliding his hands back up to grip slim hips, he hooked his thumbs beneath dark fabric and drew the undergarment down to bare his lover's beautiful ass, leaving the material caught around Shuuhei's slender thighs as his mouth trailed lower, caressing the flesh he'd just uncovered with his lips and teeth and slow, soft strokes of his tongue while the younger man's quiet, breathless moans spilled into the air all around the them.

He tasted every inch of his lover's bared skin, working his way downward and carefully spreading him open so he could lap at the tightly furled entrance of his fukutaicho's body, painting the tender tissue with broad strokes of his tongue until he felt the muscle relax fractionally, allowing the very tip to slip inside the scorching hot channel; he smiled to himself when Shuuhei's hips tilted even further in invitation, his moans escalating in volume, and drew back to tease the younger man with soft, playful licks until he heard a soft growl of frustration leave his lover's throat. So impatient, his Shuuhei…and so, so sexy when all that carefully constructed restraint unraveled. He could tease him like this for hours, until Shuuhei was writhing with need and alternately pleading and demanding that Kensei fuck him—but they were still in the office, and the Vizard had other plans for their evening.

With a final lap of his tongue, Kensei raised his head, earning a tiny whimper of protest from his lover at the loss, then drew Shuuhei towards him, lifting him carefully down off the desk only to bend him across the sun-warmed surface. Reaching into still-open drawer, the older man pulled out the bottle of lube he kept handy for just these occasions, flipping the cap open with one hand while the other spread his lover open so he could drizzle the cool liquid over his entrance, then lifted his hand to his mouth to tug off his glove, pouring a generous amount of lube into his palm so he could slick up his cock. Ordinarily he would take his time stretching his lover so the younger man could take his length with as little pain and resistance possible—Kensei was a big man, all over—but not tonight. Tonight was all about possession and claiming, showing Shuuhei that he belonged to Kensei utterly; his lover had been on edge of late, and it was the older man's duty and pleasure to take Shuuhei down and ground him once more.

He made short work of prepping him, pressing two fingers past the tight ring of muscle guarding the entrance of his lover's body and scissoring the thick digits open, unerringly seeking and finding the small bundle halfway up the inner wall and pressing firmly, smiling when a soft, stunned cry of pleasure tore from Shuuhei's throat and those slim hips rolled, trying to pull his fingers deeper—whimpering when Kensei removed his fingers only a short moment later.

"Greedy brat," the Vizard murmured affectionately, and Shuuhei twisted his head to glower balefully over his shoulder.

"Stop teasing and fuck me already," he demanded, then yelped when Kensei's hand cracked down on his ass sharply. The Vizard admired the contrast of his red handprint on that smooth golden skin for a moment before stepping between his lover's widespread legs, stroking his palms over the younger man's upturned ass before gripping one hip firmly, holding Shuuhei still as his other hand dropped down to position himself at the entrance of his lover's body.

Shuuhei moaned helplessly at the feel of Kensei's cock pressing into him, the broad, arrow-shaped head breaching the first ring of muscle unhurriedly, sinking deeper and deeper into his body by slow degrees while the dark-haired man tried to remain still and let his lover claim him at his own pace. What had begun as a playful encounter had shifted to something else entirely, something the fukutaicho hadn't even realized he'd needed—but Kensei had. Kensei always knew what Shuuhei needed, even from the first time their eyes had met across the darkened, smoke-filled bar in one of Rukongai's higher districts where Shuuhei sat solitary in a corner trying to drown out the aching loneliness living inside him with drink but failing miserably—he remembered all too well how far Kira had fallen into the depths of a sake jar after the betrayal, and Matsumoto too, and his own inability to lose himself in the temporary solace alcohol offered—and he'd lifted his gaze from his untouched bowl of sake to find his captain watching him from across the room. The older man had held his gaze for long moments before murmuring something to his more rowdy companions—Hirako-taicho, Yadomaru-fukutaicho, Kyouraku-taicho, and surprisingly, Zaraki-taicho and his diminutive new 4th seat who had once served as his own captain's second, all of whom glanced Shuuhei's way before Hirako-taicho laughed and waved a hand at the bigger man—and crossed the crowded room to appear silently at the dark-haired fukutaicho's side, wordlessly talking his arm and drawing him out into the warm night and leading him back to their division—and then into his bed. It had been unexpected, and definitely confusing—except for giving orders, his captain had all but ignored him since the Vizards had been welcomed back to Soul Society six months previous—but Shuuhei had found himself flat on his back beneath his captain, the older man's hands and mouth and impressive cock driving him slowly out of his mind with pleasure, banishing the ache inside him and replacing it with something else entirely. And when Shuuhei had tried to slip from the older man's bed in the gray light of dawn, thinking his captain would prefer him gone when he woke, he'd found his wrist caged by a large hand and gold eyes gazing up at him in sleepy annoyance, a gruff voice telling him that he was caught and deal with it—and get his ass back to bed where he belonged. And that had been that.

A sharp slap to his ass brought him out of his thoughts, and he twisted his head to find his lover glowering down at him—but his lips were curved in amusement.

"Obviously I'm doing something wrong here, brat," he said, rolling his hips—and his cock ghosted across Shuuhei's prostate, dragging a deep moan from his throat as bright sparks of pleasure exploded within him.

"Not—oh fuck, Kensei, please—at all," he gasped, back arching to take his lover deeper, wanting—no, needing—to be thoroughly claimed and possessed—owned—by the one man who saw him more clearly than anyone else ever had.

"I don't know—if you can still think, I'm definitely doing it wrong," the Vizard murmured, sliding one arm around slim hips to drag Shuuhei upright. The smaller man moaned as the thick cock sank deeper inside him, impaling him fully, and a large hand wrapped loosely around his throat, turning his face up so his lover could devour his mouth in a slow, drugging kiss that had Shuuhei writhing against the bigger man, tiny, desperate mewls of pleasure and need caught and swallowed by Kensei's lips.

The hand around his neck tightened fractionally, the hard cock inside him thrusting slowly but deeply within him, and Shuuhei simply let go and allowed his lover to take him as he wished. His mind shut off, the discomfort of the tightly-laced corset wrapped securely around his ribs melted into pure pleasure, and he gave himself over to his captain utterly.

Kensei released Shuuhei's mouth and tightened his hand around the younger man's throat, burying his face in the messy dark hair and inhaling that spicy sweet fragrance that was simply Shuuhei, the arm locked around his lover's hips holding him still as he plundered that slender body over and over again, raking his cock over the other man's prostate with every thrust and feeling his orgasm building low in the base of his spine. Shuuhei was sobbing now, pleading for more and harder and Kensei gave it to him.

His fingers tightened on that slender neck, his arm locked tight around that slim waist, and his hips snapped up, burying himself as deeply as he could go as his climax hit with blinding force. Shuuhei clamped around him at almost the same instant, his long, lean frame going rigid as he came with a low, strangled moan, his head falling back against Kensei's shoulder to relieve the pressure around his neck and shuddering now as the aftershocks of his orgasm shivered through him.

Kensei panted against Shuuhei's hair, loosening his hold on his lover's throat to smooth a lock of inky black silk off the younger man's face and press a tender kiss to his temple, receiving a grumbling noise of protest for his efforts that had him grinning. So he wasn't done yet, was he?

Easing himself from his lover's body—supporting the slight weight with the arm he still had locked around Shuuhei's waist—he reached back into the open drawer, pulling out a thick plug and a second bottle of lube. Normally he would wait until they were in the privacy of their quarters, but he didn't want Shuuhei coming up just yet—not when he still hadn't gotten what he needed.

Easing the smaller man back down on the desk, he flipped open the cap on the lube and drizzled a small amount across his opening, then pressed the tip of the plug against his entrance. Shuuhei's body twisted at the unexpected intrusion, but Kensei held him down with a firm hand on his back, working the thick plug inside his lover's body until he had taken it all. He petted the beautiful round ass presented to him with one hand while loosening the laces of the corset with the other, then slapped his hand down sharply on one firm cheek, chuckling when Shuuhei jumped with a startled moan. Maybe later he would indulge them both with a leisurely spanking, but right now he had other plans. The lube Kisuke had made especially for them would start would start to do its job very soon, and before it did he wanted his brat safely tucked away.

After fastening his hakama, he pulled the black silk panties back up to cover his lover's delectable ass and made sure Shuuhei was steady on his feet—or at least as steady as he could be considering the trembling still present in his long legs—Kensei left his lover draped across the desk to pull the soft blanket off the back of the couch, returning to swaddle Shuuhei in its folds entirely before lifting him into his arms. Though the risk of encountering anyone in the halls was minimal at this hour, there still was a chance that an officer might come along and see them, and Kensei definitely didn't want anyone laying eyes on his lover in his present state.

Exiting his office, he carried Shuuhei through the silent halls back to his quarters—Shuuhei rarely used his own anymore, and only when he was well and truly annoyed with his captain—and let himself into his bedroom, carefully laying Shuuhei down on the bed. Unwrapping the blanket, he was pleased to see Shuuhei was still in a post-orgasm haze, which would make securing him much easier.

Riffling through his bedside table, he withdrew several items and set them on the bed beside his lover, flipping the younger man easily onto his stomach and unfastening the soft leather cuffs around his stocking-clad ankles. He stroked the fine fabric down off the long, sleek legs, one after another, and tossed them aside as well, then refastened the restraints and spread Shuuhei's legs wide, binding each ankle to opposite corners of the bed. Kensei took a minute to admire the view—wrists bound at the small of his back, long legs stretched apart, pretty little ass covered in black silk just beginning to twitch as the lube inside him began to heat and itch—then picked up the wide black collar he had bought only a few days before and had yet to use on his lover. Closing it carefully around Shuuhei's lightly bruised throat—he frowned at the marks, but knew the younger man loved wearing them—he buckled it securely in place, making it sure it wasn't too tight before attaching a steel chain to the ring at the front and looping the other end around a discrete hook set in the headboard of the bed. Finally came the blindfold—just in time. Shuuhei was beginning to writhe against his bonds, whimpering at the warming itch inside him, and the strip of black satin being secured around his eyes only intensified the sensations beginning to sweep through his body.

"Kensei—"

"Shh—just relax, brat. I'm going to go finish up some paperwork now, but I'll be back in a little bit. Just lay there and give in to it," he murmured, bending down to press his mouth against Shuuhei's when his lover turned his head blindly in the direction of his voice. He straightened, smoothing his hand down sleek hair and naked, gleaming skin, then stepped away reluctantly. Shuuhei needed this—and when he returned he would love his boy slowly and thoroughly, till whatever was eating at him was banished.