AN: Well, I kinda have a new obsession. I started watching Bleach a while ago, and I must say that I am a big fan of little Yamada Hanatarou. He's such a great person in anime, and I cannot even describe how much I like him! He's so different from all characters I've ever seen in any anime.

Disclaimer:I own only idea.

This is my first Bleach fanfiction, so I ask you to read it and review, for I really need opinion of my readers.

Warnings: Yaoi (but you're probably used to it from my part. ^^), fiction rated M for lime, maybe OOCness from Byakuya's part (but not necessarily, depends on your point of view)…and…well I think that would be it.

This is pointless little drabble, no plot, just randomness.

Enough of my babbling…

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First aid kit was laid on the floor next to kneeling little shinigami, whose hair was black and his enormous eyes sparkly and kind, expressing his readiness to help in any situation. His healing powers were extraordinary, even though he was given so little credits for that. It seemed that all other shinigamis, whom he had ever helped, forgot that they actually owed their lives to this thin, good-natured Soul Reaper.

This time, he was healing the captain of the 6th division, whose arm was badly injured. The origin of injure was unknown to anybody. Byakuya had never told anybody how he had gotten that injure. The little shinigami was doing his best, and was already very exhausted form healing such enormous man.

All the men from the 4th squad had tried to heal this powerful shinigami, but they all had failed. Hana was the last to try. If he failed, then Byakuya's arm would be lost…

In a blink of an eye, unknown how to both Hanatarou and Byakuya, their eyes met. Their gazes crossed like swords, sparkles of danger bursting in all directions. Was it because of the intoxicating scent of the medication, or the heat of Hana's small hands on Kuchiki's, almost healed arm, none of them knew.

But something was there, unexplainable like the many things in this world of theirs and wider. It was something; something magnetic in the way the little guy was healing him devotedly, giving his best to cure him in no time. There was something in his movements and his tired large eyes, that expression of kindness, expression of love he felt for all living creatures.

"You're such an innocent little boy" Byakuya whispered, his face still indifferent.

Hanatarou shifted his tired eyes from the wound to look at the captain.

"O-oh?" was all he thought of in that moment.

Yes. He was untouched. He was unloved. Although he loved everyone and everything, nobody loved him back. Nobody even liked him. Nobody even pitied him.

Aware of his uselessness all of a sudden, Hana bowed his head, staring at his, already tired hands, feeling numbness spreading throughout his tiny body.

A hand touched his cheek, palm cold like steel. It seemed so artificial; there was not even a drop of blood in it. As if the captain was the zombie, a living corpse deprived of emotions of any kind.

Hanatarou winced, looking upward into the eyes of steel-they looked so dead, so empty, so apathetic. As if they were mirrors of nothing.

A strange energy flowed through the room, pushing their bodies towards one another, and their lips crushed forcefully. Byakuya placed his strong hands on each side of Hana's hips, making the kiss gentler than in the beginning. He slid his tongue gently into the healer's mouth exploring really slowly, for he had a feeling that Hanatarou was beginner.

The words of the smaller died in his throat, his eyes wide open, and even larger than in their natural state. He placed his hands on the upper arms of the captain, as if trying to push him away, but he never did such thing.

Gently, tracking every reaction of his virgin boy, graceful hands of the head of Kuchiki clan slid Hanatarou's kimono down the back of the younger, revealing pale, delicate skin of a fragile body before him. Hana was shivering from coldness and astonishment.

While pulling his kimono down, Byakuya was caressing Hana's back with his fingertips, burying his face into another's neck. He licked the skin which had the taste of spring, youth, energy…

The healer shivered again, not sure whether he should give in, or to run away. Why was captain doing something like this? But he was unable to speak, so he couldn't ask.

Every now and then, he would release a muffled moan of pure pleasure, while Byakuya was nuzzling his sensitive neck, trying to relax him in all possible ways. He was licking Hana's skin, pulling him closer into the ring which his arms provided.

Weak chest pressed against the strong one, in an even rhythm were breathing together. Joy replaced fear, as Hana allowed himself to entangle his fingers into Byakuya's long, raven black hair. Byakuya didn't react negatively. Actually, he didn't react at all.

The little shinigami sighed, resting his hands on Byakuya's chest, removing another's clothes with great respect. Oh how he wanted to be cherished, to feel protected.

And then, when they remained naked, Byakuya placed the smaller on his bed, caressing his entire body, preparing him for his first intercourse. He knew that Hana was untouched, pure, innocent, and he was wise enough to sense despair in the other's breathing, movements, blink of an eye. Nobody ever thought of the idea that they might even like this little creature that loved with his entire heart. Nobody even considered to be his friend, or, at least, to treat him nicely.

He felt that the younger wanted the dust to be removed from him. He wanted to be touched, kissed, fucked. Little Hanatarou wanted to feel love. He wanted to be noticed, pulled out from oblivion.

And there he was, calming down this small body, which was shivering in anticipation, fear, and fever. Hana was confused at first, by the new sensations that were introduced to him. Byakuya was extremely gentle to him, never making rough movements, although his body wanted to ravish the weaker shinigami.

And Hana was thankful, thankful to heavens for kindness of one of the most ruthless shinigamis he had ever had a chance to meet.

He knew that this wasn't love, that this would never be repeated again, that this would mean nothing…It would be forgotten the first thing in the morning. Byakuya was from a noble clan, and he was just a mere, low-ranked shinigami.

As the last spasms, caused by the strong climax, ceased, he collapsed into the other's embrace. He was so exhausted, pierced by the catharsis straight through his chest. New revelations flashed before his light receptors, as he was held by the mighty Byakuya.

He never knew that riding in someone's lap could exhaust even more than healing.

He looked at the captain's sweaty, indifferent face.

"I-I apologize…" he whispered, fear seizing him all of a sudden.

Silence…And then a deep, serious voice said.

"No need to apologize, Hanatarou. You healed my arm, and I healed your soul in return."

Hanatarou smiled genuinely, feeling that he could breathe easier than before.

He dressed, and then disappeared into the darkness.

On the way to his unit, he was thinking of how he was stronger now, and of how maybe, but just maybe, nobody would ever dare to bully him again. The scent of the captain of the 6th squad was deeply imprinted in his skin.

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The End

AN: A usual question: Did you like this? Or did you not? Pease review! ^^