How Could You, a bleach fanfic

Title: How Could You

Author: Yoshimara (slavetosuicide)

Rating: M

Pairing(s): HisagixRenji, IchigoxRukia, RenjixRukia, ByakuyaxHisagi

Warning(s): Songfic, AR, lemon, yaoi, het, angst, possible OOC, language, slight Rukia bashing, slight spoilers

Disclaimer: Tite Kubo owns Bleach and its affiliates. Saliva owns the lyrics. Yoshimara (slavetosuicide) owns the plot and all OCs (characters, places, etc.).

Summary: The randomly frequent cancellations of their plans, the freshly showered appearance with lingering scents of bath oils and soaps he knew his lover didn't own, the excuses—it all made sense now.

A/N: I am SO sorry that it's taken me so long to get this done! But it's finally finished! My life has taken a strong turn so I have been SUPER busy as of late. I've been trying to keep my muse working with this one, so I would really appreciate it to hear any and all feedback.

This is dedicated to all of my friends and those who have shown so much support and have been so patient with me! Thank you guys, you are amazing.

oOo

The perfectly warm summer evening was a welcoming end to a rather stressful day. Endless meetings from dawn until dusk over the last few weeks had included every division to discuss policies and staffing issues. With their victory in the Winter War last year, the Gotei 13 had been rebuilding their ranks rather efficiently—especially after the many losses they suffered.

Tonight would be the first in months they could actually relax.

Hisagi Shuuhei, acting leader of the Ninth Division, was walking through the streets of the Sereitei feeling larger than life. Today was special to the rugged shinigami—other than tonight being his first evening off in months. Two years had passed since he declared his love to the well-known boisterous red-head, Abarai Renji. Every little thing the fellow orphan did had him hooked; from the twisted smirks, to the deep roar he used when calling upon Zabimaru, to the rough street rat that lay inside that tanned tattooed exterior.

The short-haired brunette held his hands deep in his hakama pockets, each calmly even stride causing Kazeshini to swing lazily from his hip. He walked with a purpose—anyone could see—but as to where he was gong could have been anyone's guess. Plans for the upcoming evening ran through his mind, quirking his lips slightly and adding a vague urgency in his step as he stepped through the Sixth Division threshold.

I'm addicted to

Every single thing you do

I'm dying inside

Each step closer to his destination made the urge to run that much stronger. The setting sun had almost diminished when he reached the block his lover resided on. As he drew nearer, his already knotted stomach drew tighter, heartbeat beginning to race—he couldn't wait to have that man in his hands!

The glow of the lanterns led Hisagi to the last little hut on the block. At the sight of the familiar building, a smile ghosted the fukutaicho's lips. He felt as if nothing could go wrong as he sauntered up to the door. The windows were lit, giving indication that Renji was home. The scarred warrior raised a fist to pound on the door when a strong pulse of reiatsu washed over him—vaguely familiar yet muted by the walls.

It wasn't distress that much the fukutaicho could tell. His lover's reiatsu—muffled by the walls of the small home—thrummed in a steady beat. The faint tone of voices resonated through the walls and Hisagi let his hand fall back to his side, the excitement turning into confusion. He recognized Renji's voice immediately, that exotic purr a signature Hisagi would know in his sleep.

But the underlying voice…it was very familiar. The brunette slowly worked his way around the small abode while mulling over the voice in his mind.

'Is it Ikkaku? No, he's with Yumichika tonight,' Hisagi thought, peering through one of the living room windows. The murmurs grew louder as he passed to the back of the small building, the reiatsu swelling as he drew nearer.

'Is it Kira? No, the voice is too light.'

You sucking me down

Makes me feel I'm gonna drown

Hisagi stopped at the bedroom window, noticing that the voices were at their loudest here, accompanying the pressure. He moved closer, clamping down on his own pressure to mask his presence. Hesitantly he took a step forward, knowing it would be wrong to spy on his lover, but…

Another wave of reiatsu washed over him, making his eyes widen when he heard the feral growl from the window. His heart pounded in his ribcage, fighting for a way out so erratically that it was almost painful. Thoughts going into overdrive, he tried to analyze what it was.

"Renji!" a soft voice cried, filled with need and pleasure—a tone so obvious that a deaf man could tell what it was.

No…

The fukutaicho peered over the window sill to find a scene that caused his heart to drop and his mouth to dry.

The scent of musk, sweat, and sex wafted into the humid air. A large bed sat underneath the window, the bright red sheets a mess. Clothing lay scattered over the already littered floor, but the brunette didn't even notice. It was the couple on the bed that stole his attention.

A muscularly tanned and tattooed back covered in sweat with strands of ruby hair stuck to it was the first thing in his view, showing his lover in all of his naked glory. Those thick hips were cradled by a pair of thin pale legs—very feminine legs—the ankles crossed on his lower back.

It's killing me now

All you do is bring me down

Hisagi was rooted to the spot, eyes never leaving their focus on the naked copulating couple. His muscles quivered with so many emotions warring inside; he wanted to dash into that bedroom and grab at him, he wanted to run away and never look back, but his body stayed put and left the poor fukutaicho to fend for himself. His eyes darkened, reiatsu fighting to express his sorrow but at the harsh bite to his bottom lip, his resolve solidified. Why was Renji doing this? Who was underneath him? The only other clue he got was the small parts of black hair thinly veiled by crimson.

Small hands moved over those blatant tattoos, nails digging into the skin deep enough to leave white lines in their wake. The whimpers grew more urgent with each passing moment, making the brunette officer's wrath increase and his stomach to tighten uncomfortably with nausea. But when Renji leaned down to bury his face in his mystery lover's shoulder, Hisagi's body jerked backwards a few steps and he stumbled in an attempt to keep himself upright. He hummed with angry excitement and betrayal, chest heaving as he took in silent gasps.

'Why?' his frantic mind chanted over and over, eyes wide as they stared at the wall in front of him. This couldn't be real…

Why Rukia?

Scrambling to his feet, the brawny fukutaicho shunpo'd out of the District. He paid no mind to the curious shinigami he passed by. His reiatsu uncurled slowly, leaking angrily and dangerously.

He knew Renji was bisexual, seeing as how he had dated Matsumoto-fukutaicho briefly before the ryoka incident. But he always claimed that Rukia was more like a sister to him when people would either assume or suggest a relationship between the two. Last time he checked, siblings weren't supposed to get that close to one another.

Hisagi flashed through his division's Senkaimon, the jigokucho (1) barely able to keep up with his speed. He needed to get out of there, to somewhere clean and free where he could think. The environmental changes he felt were instantaneous once he stepped onto a dark street in Karakura town. He didn't register the comforting kiss from the gothic insect on his skin, nor the gentle slide and click of the gate sealing and fading into nothing.

Jumping up, he hopped from rooftop to rooftop soundlessly, travelling to alleviate the hurt in no specific direction. His heavy breathing and aching heartbeat was all he heard on this quiet and dark night.

How could he do this? After all they'd been through, all they'd done together. Two years—were they all lies? Every word, every touch…

The raven-haired man kept the cry that so desperately wanted to be unleashed as he finally paused on a familiar street. A few houses down stood Kurosaki Ichigo's house, most of the windows dark except for the dull reflection of the street lamps. The topmost window was lit, giving indication that the teen was awake. He knew that Rukia and Ichigo had been together much longer than he and Renji had been. That realization brought up another thought that made his chest ache even worse.

Did Ichigo know of Rukia's infidelity?

All this time and all your lies

It has been—no surprise

And I realize it now

He stared at the window long after the light had gone out an hour later, trying to piece everything together. His feet carried him away from the home clinic, taking him aimlessly around the small town.

The "late nights at work" started about eight months ago, perhaps every two weeks. Nothing alarming, considering how horrible the man was with paperwork. Eventually "hangin' with th' guys" was added to it, then "living world assignments", and so many more that he couldn't even remember them all. The randomly frequent cancellations of their plans, the freshly showered appearance with lingering scents of bath oils and soaps he knew his lover didn't own, the excuses—it all made sense now.

It was all her fault. If she had kept her filthy paws off of his lover, none of this would have happened!

'But,' a quiet and remorseful voice hissed in his ear, 'it takes two to tango, as they say.'

The voice was right.

Hisagi didn't realize he had returned home until he strode through the front door of his quarters. With a heavy sigh, he untied his waraji (2) and made his way into the bathroom. He pondered on what to do as he stripped himself of his clothes and scrubbed himself before stepping into the heated bath.

He had given nothing but love and devotion to him, even passed on the taicho position because it wouldn't please Renji. Hisagi Shuuhei was not going to stand by on this.

He was going to confront the red-headed street rat, even if it meant losing everything he worked for.

How could you cheat on me

Then turn your back on me

You told me all the lies

And hypnotized—and I believed

The thoughts running loose were so loud that a headache had begun to form. A faint groan escaped his lips as he leaned forward, placing a hand over his eyes to block out the lights of his bath lanterns. The distraught fukutaicho didn't hear the front door open and close, or the light footsteps behind him. He jerked in surprise at the feel of roughly cool hands on his shoulders. Swirling around, he caught sight of the same red-head he had loved behind him, a lecherous smile on his face and naked as the day he was born.

"Renji!" he exasperatedly uttered, trying to pull his aching head together.

"Aa, koi," was all he said before lunging at the stunned brunette, knocking them both back as their lips met. Water splashed everywhere at the sudden movement but neither noticed. When they pulled apart, he wasn't given a chance to speak before his lips were attacked again with tongue and teeth.

Hisagi's mind short circuited at the rush of pleasure to his nerves, despite the headache and his broken heart, hands moving to those thick shoulders with the intention of pulling away but they pulled him closer to that thick body. That skilled tongue lapped at the beads of water rolling down his skin, causing the shivers and gasps to quicken. Large hands ran over him and despite the pleasure, the fog parted enough to filter in his burdens once more, but he was too far gone to really register them.

Those sinful lips trailed up to his ear, bathing the outer shell in light kisses while those hands caressed his half-hardened cock underneath the steaming water. Only the husky whisper made the brunette halt in his breathing, the mental haze clearing out.

Their lips locked once again, hands moving in places he couldn't fathom as his mind replayed the image of Rukia underneath his lover over and over, but his body betrayed the discomfort by physically asking for more.

How could you cheat on me

Then turn your back on me

You told me all the lies

And hypnotized—and I believed

They somehow managed to move to the far side of the tub, the older man pushed up against the side, hips lifted to expose his hardened shaft to the now cold air. He watched the red-head slide down and felt the disgust rise up within him.

How could this man sit there and do those things with his tongue like that when he had been with that woman?

Hisagi wanted to protest, to scream for Renji to stop and explain what he saw. He wanted to hear the man's confession.

But that sinful heat engulfed him just as he opened his mouth, forcing a strangled groan out of his throat, head falling back in pure bliss.

I'm coming to know—all the secrets that you hold

You think I'm a fool—and I don't know what you do

Thoughts mixed with emotion as they rode through it all, nothing being said between them as their orgasmic explosions crashed their way to the surface. The Ninth Divison fukutaicho dreaded the end; the feeling of just the two of them in the here and now was all he craved—no lies, no drama, no Rukia to add confusion—just them, like it used to be.

Renji slid out of his lover, arms automatically reaching for him in their customary afterglow hold. But the brunette, still panting from the physical exertion and head screaming, glided easily away from him as that horrid image played again. He didn't dare look at the two-timing prick while he used the cloth nearby to wipe himself down. He felt dirty; like a cheap Rukongai whore.

As he made to step out, he chanced a look over a tan shoulder. He pulled his reiatsu back into himself and tried to keep his face neutral. It must not have worked, for the look on Renji's face was that of someone who was caught red handed.

The look in your eyes

When you finally realize

The expression was gone an instant later, replaced with one—rather convincing if Hisagi didn't know any better—of concern and curiosity. When he spoke, his voice was gruff and low, like always.

"S'matter, Shuuhei?"

Hisagi turned back around so he was facing away from the red-head and gingerly stepped out of the bath. He remained silent as he toweled himself dry and slid into a dark gold night robe. His legs were weak and a faint jolt of pain flared from his pelvis and shot down to the back of his knees, but he ignored it.

"You think I'm stupid, Abarai?" he voiced quietly, tone wavering as he kept his focus on the belt around his waist. He was trying so hard not to lose control, and he knew that if he looked at Renji's face, he would lose himself.

He had to be strong.

He had to end all that he worked for—and he didn't like it one single bit.

"Huh?" was his response.

The brunette swung his head up to face the soaking wet man who was kneeling forward in the tub, tattooed eyebrows knit together in confusion. Damn, he looked delicious in that position—but even that wouldn't steer Hisagi from getting the truth.

"I know about Rukia," was all he said, resulting in a look so shocked that it didn't even look like the red-head at all.

All this time and all your lies

It has been—no surprise

And I realize it now

"I—I dunno what th' hell yer talkin' about," Renji replied, trying his best to act confused, but his ruby eyes were flashing 'oh shit' signs as they darted to look anywhere but back at him.

"Bullshit, Renji," Hisagi spat. He was losing control, for he never cursed—or slipped into his Rukongai accent—outside of love making; no matter how angry or overwhelmed he got. "I fuckin' saw ya with th' whore."

"Don' ya dare call 'er tha'." Renji bellowed, face twisting into a glare, upper lip curling to show his teeth in a snarl as he rose to his feet at the girl's defense—like he always did when it came to the damn girl.

"What the hell else am I gonna think? Two years, Renji—two fuckin' years we've been together," the brunette said, tone hardening as his reiatsu began to unfurl and his clipped words losing the accent again, "and you just acted like it was nothing!"

Turning back to the doorway, his barely concealed rage laced his footsteps as they carried him swiftly out of the bathroom and away from the man he wanted to throttle so badly.

'Renji!'

He shuddered at the mental playback. The loud crash of water echoed behind him, signaling the red-head's hasty retreat and before he could even draw in his next breath, his lover—or was it ex now?—had shunpo'd in fr4ont of him to block his way further into the living room, his dripping body only covered by a towel around his waist.

"I wouldn'ta strayed if ya loved me," he said with a straight face, like he actually believed that statement.

Whatever come back he had died on his lips as soon as he heard that. Hisagi's face hardened to stone, staring at the man before him. Was he serious? Did he honestly believe this?

"Renji," Hisagi said in a quiet tone, trying to mask his now shattered heart, "When did I ever give you the impression that I stopped loving you?"

It was the silence that followed and the high burst of angry reiatsu that gave the brunette his answer.

How could you cheat on me

Then turn your back on me

You told me all the lies

And hypnotized—and I believed

Renji's cry was all the warning he had before they were screaming at one another. Looking back, he really didn't know all that was said, other than the fist that eventually connected with his jaw. The taste of copper filled his mouth, pain flaring across his cheek and he thoughtlessly retaliated. Blow after blow was exchanged, each punch backed up by anger so strong it could crack concrete.

During the struggle, they moved deeper into the living room—when did Renji lose his towel, anyways?—and all Hisagi could picture was both Rukongai brats tangled in the sheets.

The sound of ceramics shattering halted the fight long enough for the panting and bloody brunette to throw the red-head out of his home physically. He had grabbed that long wine-colored hair he used to love playing with and with as much strength as possible, he threw open the door and shoved the naked man outside, not even bothering to give him the towel that stood at the doorway to the hallway.

"I don't ever want to see your face near me again, Abarai? Do you hear me?" Before he could get a reply, he slammed the door shut and stood there glaring at the piece of wood as if it had been the source of all this mayhem.

Hisagi ached and pulsed everywhere, labored breathing sounding raspy. His throat burned from being dry and overused in such a way. His legs finally upheld their threat and he collapsed in an exhausted heap to the floor, eyes closed in an attempt to calm down.

'Renji!'

'No, stop it,' he mentally pleaded, feeling the adrenaline rush chip away with each passing minute. He felt so tired. He just wanted to crawl to bed and sleep—for a very long time. His dry tongue darted out between his lips to moisturize them but failed, the taste of blood stronger and another flash of pain spread over his chin.

He didn't even want to look at how bloody he was. He just prayed he didn't have to go to the Fourth Division.

After a few more minutes, he deemed his legs steady enough, and rose to his feet. Carefully, he began to maneuver his way to the bathroom only to pause.

There, shattered on the floor, was the vase Kuchiki-taicho had given him for his last birthday. It was a rather beautiful piece; gold painted with a poem hand brushed by the stoic leader himself that the brunette had memorizes long ago. Why—he didn't need to figure it out—but the words came rushing back to him as he stared forlornly at the tiny pieces.

"Even the bravest that are slain,

Shall not dissemble their surprise

On walking to find valor reign

Even on earth, in paradise;

And where they sought without the sword

Wields fields of asphodel fore'er,

To find that the utmost reward

Of daring should be still to dare." (3)

The anger had subsided to a duller ache, letting the physical pain shine through. He stepped over the shattered vase and into the bathroom with one stray thought.

How could he explain to Kuchiki-taicho what happened to the most beloved gift he ever received?

How could you cheat on me

Then turn your back on me

You told me all the lies

And hypnotized—and I believed

Over the next week, the bruises had worsened before beginning to fade. His bottom lip had lost the swelling, but the cut in the corner of his mouth still ached if he licked his lips. Yet, despite his physical state the brunette went about as normal.

Renji was nowhere to be seen. Hisagi figured he was holed up with the Kuchiki brat somewhere but wouldn't let his thoughts travel farther than that. It was a dangerous road to take, and it was bad enough his appearance had frightened his subordinates—he really didn't want to explain a mental breakdown to anyone at work due to his mental ramblings.

But today he had a purpose. In his strong hands was a box filled with the pieces of that lovely vase. He was hoping that the creator would have some way of repairing it.

Renji, he knew, was on duty and he prayed to anything and everything that there wouldn't be a scene. The brunette fukutaicho already decided that even if the lying prick were to get on his knees and vow to castrate himself, he wouldn't give in. It wasn't just their relationship that had been shattered—much like the jingling ceramic pieces in the small box—Ichigo would be devastated if he knew what his woman did while he lived blissfully ignorant in the land of the living.

Arriving at the Sixth Division barracks, Hisagi nodded to some of the passing unseated shinigami. Pausing at the door leading to the office, he adjusted his hold on the box and took the time to scan the reiatsu hidden inside the rooms. His heart sank when he discovered Renji's aura was so close to Kuchiki-taicho's.

'I don't care,' he thought spitefully, lifting one hand to knock politely on the sliding door and said aloud, "Sumimasen, Kuchiki-taicho."

"Enter," a cool voice slightly muffled by the door came.

He slid the door open, revealing the small office within. Papers had been tossed around as if in an angry gesture, littering both desks and the floor. Hisagi raised an eyebrow at the sight of an annoyed Renji kneeling on the floor, collecting the littered documents. Kuchiki-taicho sat at his desk, his face passive as ever as he monitored the movements of his subordinate.

The Ninth Division fukutaicho stepped into the office, sliding the door close behind him, trying his best to hide the unease he felt building up in the pit of his stomach. "Is—this a bad time?" he asked hesitantly.

Byakuya looked up from watching Renji to the other brunette then turned his attention to the red-head on the floor, "Iie. What can I do for you, Hisagi-fukutaicho?"

Hisagi watched Renji pointedly ignore him a moment longer and couldn't help the sadness he felt. "Well, I need to ask something of you, if I may?"

At the sound of silence, he looked up at the Division Leader to see he was being watched patiently. He hoped that his emotions weren't being read…

…but why wouldn't Renji even look at him?

And now—with all your pride

You still can't look me in my eyes

"Abarai, would you please make us some tea?" Kuchiki-taicho said quietly, not taking his gaze off of the younger brunette.

"Hai," And the red-head was gone.

"Now," Kuchiki-taicho said, "what is your question? Please, take a seat."

Hisagi took a seat at the side of the desk, setting the box on his lap, while the nobleman's eyebrow quirked upwards, at the sound of tinkling glass within the box.

"Please, Kuchiki-taicho. Would you mind taking a look to see if this can be repaired?" he asked quietly, moving to set the box carefully on the desk before the Division Leader, after said man had motioned for him to do so.

Steel eyes stared at the fukutaicho for a moment before peering into the box. The stoic expression cracked to expose surprise—and hurt?—at the sight of that vase, the same one he spent countless hours on for hidden reasons, shattered to pieces.

"Here ya go, taicho," Renji's voice cut through the silence roughly.

Both men looked up at the stiff postured red-head who held his gaze on the small tea tray in his hands. Hisagi watched his ex-lover's hand place the tiny cups on the desk, handling them with care. Steam rose in ringlets from them, but the brunette didn't bother to notice.

"Ninth Division fukutaicho," he said, words clipped in restraint and neutral in tone.

His stomach felt like lead as he watched those hands—the same hands he kissed and held—place the second cup before him, but then he watched the man's face.

Renji never called him that—ever.

And now—in all your shame

You can even speak my name

"Abarai, please take these to the Tenth Division. Do not leave until Hitsugaya-taicho has signed off on all of them." Byakuya's voice cut into the tense silence, breaking the brunette out of his shocked reverie.

"Hai." A rather thick pile of papers exchanged hands and the red-head turned away quickly, not bothering to give the younger brunette a parting glance.

Hisagi watched the departing red-head until the sliding door closed behind him. When the latch clicked, he blinked slowly before facing the noblemen, who looked at him curiously—or as curious as a raised eyebrow can be.

"Should I even bother asking what that was about?" he asked skeptically, eyes never leaving Hisagi's person.

The question took Hisagi by surprise, making him wince with guilt. He was that easy to read?

"Honestly, it's nothing you need to be concerned with—," he started before Kuchiki-taicho interrupted in his regally deadpan manner.

"I'm to assume that the bruises and broken nose my fukutaicho suffered are somehow linked to the healing bruises on your face?" his cool eyes narrowed in concentration, "and if I assume right, then by the obvious way you two are reacting to one another I can assume is a result of more than just sparring—which is what Abarai told me."

Hisagi stayed silent, momentarily cursing his superior's keen observations. Now he knew how he could successfully lead the Sixth Division—the Division of Investigation. He closed his eyes and drew in a breath, preparing to deny anything and everything. But when he opened his eyes to look at the older man, he paused again.

Those cool and calculating steel eyes had always been guarded, never to show anything other than focus and intense control. Hisagi saw in those well-known eyes the emotional unbalance in them—but the guard rose up once more.

"May I make a request, Kuchiki-taicho?" he finally said, feeling the lump rise in his throat. The nobleman tilted his head in response, patiently waiting for his guest to speak.

"Whatever I tell you—please don't fire him," the brunette asked, not lowering his eyes, "if you promise me that, then I will disclose everything."

Was he too bold for asking something of the Sixth Division taicho—the head of the Kuchiki clan? Definitely. Was he foolish for asking for leniency on the man who broke his heart and his favorite piece of furniture? Obviously. What the hell was wrong with him?

He could see the older man processing the gentle plea with careful consideration. Hisagi wouldn't let his gaze fall, despite the heightening desire to stare at the floor and hide. The yellowing bruises began to ache slightly, as if to protest his request.

"Alright," the nobleman finally said, his steel eyes never betraying a thought. After a moment he added, "And take your time."

How could you cheat on me

Then turn your back on me

You told me all the lies

And hypnotized—and I believed

The younger brunette took a shuddering breath, still not sure of what to say—but he had no choice. How far should he go back? The beginning?

It was worth a shot.

Hesitatingly the words tumbled out quietly and breathlessly. As the story continued, his tone became more confident—the memories flooding by in shocking waves. Their first meeting at the academy melted into their first real battle. He mentioned how he fell for the red-head during a mission in Rukongai, how strong the fellow shinigami was and how it knocked him off balance emotionally.

The fond memories were flooding over him, pain and longing following the mental pictures of laughter and pure feeling. The words didn't sting as much as witnessing his confession again, soaked in the rain and glad that it was rinsing the blood off of his skin.

He spoke of the toll the Winter War had upon him, seeing Tousen fall despite his hatred for the man. Admitting it finally—not even Renji knew how he felt—lifted a burden that left him silent after a moment, catching a breath he didn't know he needed.

Why was he telling this man all of this? It was like he just couldn't stop, not with those eyes watching him in such a way that was both comforting and calculating at the same time.

Hisagi's eyes fell to the box as he recounted the event he stumbled upon last week—careful to leave out Rukia's name. He was always getting one person in trouble—not to mention it's more of Ichigo's business what his woman was doing. The hurt welled up inside him and he had to take another few moments before continuing.

Gracefully he skipped the sex portion of the story—he really didn't want to relive the shame that caused. When he went over the fight, he realized that really did want to kill the red-head—and it scared him.

He finished his story lamely by looking back at the nobleman and then back at the box with the fragmented gift. "When it broke, I threw him out. I didn't know it was the vase until I actually looked. If—there isn't a way to fix it, I am utterly sorry for what transpired." He successfully kept his tone from sounding weak and horrifyingly small, and he felt a bit of pride at keeping reigns on it.

And the guilt gnawed at him again as he looked back at Kuchiki-taicho to see the dark look in the man's eyes.

The Sixth Division Leader sat in his chair, looking at the younger brunette but not actually seeing him. There seemed to be a fire burning in his slate eyes—a dangerously cold anger.

Hisagi began to regret saying a single word when that expression relaxed to one of vague understanding and sympathy. He felt his heart sink at the crazy realization that maybe he should try to leave—handle things on his own. As he was trying to get up, a slender and pale hand reached up in a 'halt' gesture.

"Hisagi-fukutaicho," Byakuya quipped quietly, "sit down." When he did, the nobleman continued, "it can be repaired, I assure you. You have nothing to fear and nothing to apologize for."

Hisagi relaxed visibly when he heard those words.

"Also," the Division Leader continued, "I would like to express my sincere apologies for what my subordinate has done to you—despite it being your personal business. If there was a way I could take it back—," he fell silent, trying to keep his expression neutral.

It was right then that the fukutaicho had noticed just how beautiful the other man was. Despite his cold demeanor and stand-offish behavior, he truly felt horrible that he had gotten hurt. They shared a common trait…

…they kept themselves locked away from the world. And Hisagi knew that he wanted to learn how to let go with this man.

How could you cheat on me

Then turn your back on me

You told me all the lies

And hypnotized—and I believed

A year after that afternoon passed by, showing Hisagi as the current leader of the Ninth Division at his desk, reviewing the newly edited papers for the newspaper. His haori hung off a hook on the wall of his new office which was spacious and neatly organized.

Behind the brunette were large bookcases filled with centuries of catalogued first edition newspapers and various source books. The desk was littered with papers and lacking any personal belongings. As a matter of fact, the entire room was bare of photos, knick knacks, etc. Except…

In the far corner of the room stood his beloved vase, all in one piece and no cracks in sight.

Two weeks after that day in Kuchiki -taicho's office, he received a summons to the Kuchiki manor for dinner. When Hisagi arrived, he was shown into a large study where the taicho was waiting for him. He received the vase gratefully before dinner and before he knew it, they had already eaten and were walking through the gardens, chatting idly about everything but work.

It was the most refreshing night the short-haired brunette had in such a long time. And apparently the nobleman felt the same because after that—he had an open invitation almost every week to visit for dinner.

They grew close—at least, as close as their hearts allowed. They learned a lot about one another and continued to explore.

A soft knock on the sliding door caught Hisagi's attention and out of habit he called, "Enter."

He didn't look up from his paper until the sound of the door latch resonated. When he did look over, a vague smile lit his face at the sight of Byakuya standing there. The older brunette stood regally, his porcelain face without visible emotion.

But Hisagi knew better.

"Hello, Byakuya," Hisagi said pleasantly, lowering his current project back to the desk.

"Hisagi," Byakuya replied, "are you ready for lunch?"

"Of course."

He rose to his feet and smoothed some wrinkles out of his uniform. Sliding into his haori, he made his way to his guest. "What are you in the mood for?" he asked as he stopped in front of Byakuya.

The taller man leaned down and planted a rough and needy kiss on Hisagi's lips. The tattooed man shivered at the pure lust and compassion in the reiatsu that washed over him.

"I feel like dessert," he whispered against those lips, bringing another smile to the younger taicho's face. The next thing he knew, Byakuya and Hisagi were shunpo'ing back to the manor and it was amazing.

He found a new start—for the both of them—and with each breath, each kiss, each climax he would pray that they would last for decades.

I'm addicted to

Every single thing you do

I'm dying inside

oOo

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this one! Another odd-duck pairing, but it looked sexy to me! :snicker: Thanks again for reading and being so patient with me, everyone. Hopefully things will calm down IRL soon so I may get back to writing the awesomeness that is fan fictions.

Hell butterfly

Shinigami sandals