Warning: M-rated lemony action. This story will contain ByaXHisana, ByaXRukia and ByaxByakuya's right hand :P Don't like, don't read!
Byakuya sighed as he entered his office, shrugging off his captain's haori and draping it lightly across the back of a nearby chair. He was tired; it had been another hard day and he quite frankly couldn't stand one more stupid comment or idiotic mishap from Renji or any of the rest of his division. They were going through a recruitment process, and it was definitely testing Kuchiki's patience to the maximum. Calm and collected he may seem on the surface, but there were only so many utter idiots he could interview, and only so many hours he could put into training new recruits who were continually blowing up nearby shrubbery with mis-aimed soukatsuis. His forehead was lightly sheened with sweat from the rigorous training exercises he was pushing the groups through and his normally smart uniform was a little dusty and crumpled. Normally his first move would be to the small adjoining kitchen to make tea, but today was a hot day, and tea seemed a little too warm to be really refreshing. In fact, what he needed more than anything was a shower to remove the residue of the training grounds from his skin. He bolted the door to avoid any unwanted visits from Renji or anyone else, and began to take off his grubby uniform; slipping off his sandals first, the dark shinigami uniform then slipping lightly to the floor, revealing the toned, slender body underneath. Finally, he gently removed the kenseiken from his hair, shaking it out and brushing it softly back with his hands.
Only then, totally naked, did he walk into the shower area that adjoined his office, comprising his private quarters where he spent time when he was too busy to head back to the Kuchiki manor, or had business to attend to in his office. He enjoyed this captain's privilege of having a private shower, as he preferred to keep his dignity intact, as opposed to joining the mass of sweaty, muscled male bodies who crammed into the usual 6th division showers, jostling for space and arguing over soap. He turned on the shower, allowing the water to warm a little before he stepped in, letting the refreshing water sluice over his tired, aching body. He quickly soaped himself, the warm water rinsing away the sweat, dust and weariness of the day, and he finally began to relax a little. However, despite the physical relaxation, Byakuya was still oddly tense. As he washed his hair, images and memories from the day, and the previous few days began to wander into his mind. Something was troubling him. That afternoon, Rukia had come across to the 6th division's training ground; she'd come to pass on a simple message, but he'd been very harsh and aggressive with her, taking out his annoyance on her with sharp, clipped words. Now that he was a little more relaxed, and at leisure to think about it a little more closely, he realised that he'd been very unfair towards her. But was that exactly what was troubling him, or was it something else? A couple of days ago, Rukia had come to him, very excited, to tell him some news about the human world. News which had had something to do with the substitute shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo. He'd seen how happy and excited she looked, the lightly flushed expression on her face when she mentioned the subsitute, and for some unknown reason, his stomach had clenched with annoyance at the mere mention of his name, at the adoring expression on his sister's face, and he'd again been cold and reserved with her, leaving the younger shinigami a little confused and hurt.
For some reason, the relationship between himself and the younger, adopted Kuchiki had been a little uncomfortable lately. He reasoned with himself that it was due to his dislike of Kurosaki and his friends, and perhaps due to his concern for Rukia's safety and wellbeing when she was stationed in the human world, although gut feeling told him this was not the whole truth. Byakuya sighed and twisted the handle to turn the water off, pulling a towel around him and rubbing himself partially dry, before wrapping it around his waist and going in search of clean clothes. Entering the small bedroom which he used on occasion, he sat down momentarily on the side of the bed. Another image had entered his mind, and one that made him considerably more uncomfortable than the previous ones. Two weeks ago, he had gone to see Rukia in her quarters. In a moment of thoughtlessness, he had forgotten to knock, and had walked in on her getting changed; wearing nothing but her lace panties, she had gasped with shock and hurriedly pulled a towel over herself to hide her modestly. Hurriedly, but not fast enough, as Byakuya's eyes had had time to rove momentarily over the young shinigami's slim body, her flat stomach, small but pert breasts and slim, almost childlike, but deceptively strong limbs. He had apologised profusely, embarassed almost to the point of forgetting his superior rank, but what had made him more uncomfortable and horrified than the mere embarrassment was the unwanted bulge that he had struggled to conceal in his hakama as he shunpoed back to his own room. He had tried every possible excuse in his mind to rationalize his physical reaction to seeing her semi-naked body, but he had quite simply failed to reduce the burning guilt and disgust that he felt towards himself every time he remembered that moment. Ever since then he had tried to busy and distract himself with near-constant work and training, trying to forget the mortifying event, but as soon as he was alone with his thoughts, he was almost unable to suppress the images that drifted unbidden into his mind, and with every day he was becoming less and less able to ignore the aching in his lower abdomen and the persistent physical arousal whenever he even momentarily thought about Rukia.
Every time any thoughts of her entered his mind, he forced himself to push them away, and today was no exception. Taking a deep breath, he changed into some nightwear and sank into bed, hoping to fall asleep quickly and not to think any more about her. Unfortunately, this was not to be; he couldn't keep his subconscious mind from running and rerunning the images of Rukia's perfect body, and worse, imagining yet more. His cock was rapidly hardening beneath the cool sheets, and every movement created aggravating friction which made him moan softly with frustration. In the years since Hisana's death, he had denied himself sexual contact, denied himself female company, and denied himself any kind of sexual stimulation.
Not that there had been much sexual satisfaction to be gained within the marriage itself. Byakuya's mind snapped sharply back several years to the time when they had been married. Hisana had been a street child, a nobody, but she had somehow utterly captivated him. Her dark, intelligent eyes, her cheeky smile, her soft dark hair falling into her eyes, her slim figure and her tough but reserved personality. He had loved her more wildly and more passionately than he had ever thought possible. He had loved her in a way that she had never loved him back. Respected him, yes; grateful to him, of course; fond of him even, but she had never felt even a spark of the passionate desire Byakuya had felt for her. Of course, she had married him. It had gotten her out of the sewers of one of the poorest Rukon districts and into one of the most respected houses into all of Seireitei. A few more years on the streets would certainly have spelt death for her, and as the wife of a Kuchiki, she could want for nothing, and she knew she was married to a good, strong and noble man. Not that any of this had been much consolation to Byakuya. He saw the light go out in Hisana's eyes when he made love to her, he saw her flinch, almost imperceptibly when he kissed or touched her. From the moment he saw her, he knew he had to have her at any cost; even the damage to his reputation caused by taking a commoner into the noble family. Perhaps he had been so consumed by his own desire, lust, passion and love, that he had failed to notice the politeness with which Hisana received his advances; the smiles that were sweet, but lacking in real joy. The first night he had spent with her, he had ripped her clothes from her body in a rough, animalistic way that no one would have thought the stoic 6th division captain capable of, he had taken her roughly and passionately, thrusting into her almost desperately, desperate for a responsiveness he would never get. He had persisted for a few weeks, becoming more gentle in his sexual advances, kissing her, caressing her and trying everything he could think of to make her enjoy the experience. To little avail. She had never resisted his touches, but there was a quietness and sadness about her demeanour that broke his heart, even though his body raged with lust for hers. Gradually, he had closed off his heart, a little more each day, denying his body the satisfaction it needed, almost as a punishment to himself for not being worthy of the love that he so desperately craved from her. When Hisana had died, he shut himself off almost completely. Even though he had continued his captain's duties, and his role as the head of the Kuchiki house had meant he could never falter in his commitment to upholding the laws and traditions of the Seireitei, he had closed down his heart and his body to any further hint of love or lust.
However, there was only so long that his body would allow him to deny it release. Every movement intensified the aching frustration and the nagging demands for relief. Regardless of his attempts to shut out the unwanted fantasies, the captain found himself unable to rid himself of the images of his adopted sister, and his body's overwhelming desire for her. Byakuya cursed himself silently for his weakness and the immorality of his thoughts; he turned over in bed and screwed his eyes shut, although there was no way he was going to be able to sleep in his current state. As he moved, the blanket shifted slightly across his almost naked body, causing a shudder of unintended pleasurable stimulation through the lower half of his body, making him even harder than he had already been. Biting his lip, he shifted to a sitting position, leaning back slightly against the wall, eyes shut, trying to talk himself back into a more rational state. His cock, still hard, was pressing uncomfortably against the underside of the blanket; absentmindedly, he moved his hand downwards to shift the blanket away, and found his hand brushing lightly against his hardened member. The waves of pleasure it brought to him were unwanted and mildly disturbing, but Byakuya was rapidly losing all sense of pride and rationality in the wake of the cloud of lust that was enveloping his mind. Almost without thinking, in fact certainly without thinking, as he would never have mindfully allowed himself to give in to such base physical temptation, he found himself gripping his cock roughly in his somewhat sweaty right hand. His whole body shuddered with the sensation, and his eyes closed, his lips parting slightly as he panted with extreme arousal. It is fair to say that by this point, the part of his mind that was protesting pride, station, propriety and honour was more than silenced by the rest of his mind and body, which screamed for release, no matter the circumstances. Gritting his teeth, momentarily silencing the voice of guilt and shame in his mind, he began to move his hand, at first slowly, then harder and faster, pumping persistently and desperately. Much to his own embarrassment and horror, he was unable to suppress quiet moans and grunts of pleasure, although no one was there to witness nor hear his shame. His stomach clenched hard and his insides burned and tightened; he found himself bucking his hips slightly, increasing the unbearable, incredible friction; and his breathing became heavier, panting even.
In his mind, he could see Hisana, splayed out on the bed in front of him, inviting him, yet somehow seemingly mocking him. He groaned heavily as he imagined his hands digging into her firm curves, the fingers of his left hand curling into his damp sheets as he pictured the scene. As he became further aroused, nearer to climax, the realisation hit him like a bolt of terrifying lightning: the woman in his fantasy was not Hisana, but her younger sister. Rukia. "Rukia," he moaned aloud, seemingly unaware of his own utterance. His hand grasped the sheet, his body spasmed and he cried out Rukia's name as he finally climaxed; his whole body overwhelmed and overcome by the intense waves of agonising, shameful, mind-shattering pleasure and the sheer incredible relief. Panting hard, he sank back against the sheets and fell almost instantly into a semi-peaceful sleep. A sleep induced by pure physical relief and relaxation, although mentally, he was in turmoil. The peaceful state did not last, and within a few hours, he was awake, his mind spinning and his stomach churning; wracked with horrible guilt and disgust at himself. Almost gagging with disgust at his own behaviour, he hurriedly got out of bed, pulling a light kimono over his naked body and ripping the stained sheets from his bed, before throwing them onto the floor. He stumbled almost drunkenly back to the shower, where he stepped straight into the ice cold water, silently praying for the freezing water to wash away his solecism along with the sweat and other bodily fluids. After around 30 minutes of freezing his body to the point that he was shivering violently, he got back out of the shower and dressed again, before storming out into the night. It was around 3am, and mercifully, no one was around. The night was peaceful, dark and cool, and it almost relaxed him. He paced constantly for several hours, running the same self-flagellating thoughts over and over in his mind.
When the morning finally came, he went straight to training without going back to his quarters, and threw himself back into work with a single-minded intensity, surpassing even his usual rather obsessive work ethic. Over the following few days, he worked himself to the point of physical and mental exhaustion, allowing himself no free time at all, and sleeping only 4 hours a night in order to make sure he was so tired he fell asleep instantly. Training and fighting allowed him an outlet for his frustration, anger and self-hatred, and it took his mind away from the one place he would not, could not allow it to linger: Rukia.
to be continued... probably. please let me know what you think. my first m-rated and relatively lemony fic, but hopefully also quite interesting too(?) anyway, no reviews, no continuation