RenIchi - Well-secluded

[captain_spiky]

Title: Well-secluded.
Beta: Hopelesslover23.
Pairing: Renji/Ichigo (Ichigo POV).
Rating: NC-17.
For: Goldensprite and Babyluw's birthday! I ♥ you guys thiiis much! >3>
Word Count: 2,120.
Warnings: Voyeur!

Summary: Renji's position at that desk might have been very authoritative had he not been stroking his cock at that moment.

A/N: This is all thanks to Goldensprite and her amazing prompt. I can only hope I pulled it off. And that you two have an awesome birthday, fit for awesome chicks! (I would have pondered over two different pieces for you, but then I thought, what could possibly be better than Renji porn? More Renji porn! :P) Extra special thanks to Figaro_figaro for being awesome.

The night air of Soul Society was a lot chillier than Ichigo had expected. Considering the fact he'd been unconscious most of the nights he'd been there before the war, and this was his first visit after it, he could safely say that was the reason he was shuddering.

He could hardly call it a visit, though, as he was looking for one particular person for one particular reason, and then he would go back home. He hoped. Lingering around that place brought only bad memories, but one couldn't really escape one's best friends.

The closer he'd gotten to the 6^th Division, the more distinct Renji's spiritual energy had become, and Ichigo began picking up the pace. However, he stopped short at the 5^th's barracks.

Oh, right, guess he won't be in 6^th anymore.

Ichigo was reminded of the reason he'd come there in the first place - to congratulate Abarai Renji, fucking Captain of the 5^th Division. Of course, Rukia had managed to convince him to surprise Renji with a visit, which meant Ichigo now had to go look for Renji. At least the man - the captain - was never a very discreet person.

All Ichigo had to do was follow the intensifying reiatsu streaks until they were clear enough to make out, around… the captain's office. Ichigo didn't really know the place, but he remembered Rukia saying Renji had insisted on an office right in the middle of the barracks. She said he liked the noise, but Ichigo knew it was to get away from Aizen. He shook himself, and couldn't help but roll his eyes, just thinking about how Renji was going to rub his rank in.

Finally, Ichigo stopped on the wooden floor leading to the door of Renji's new office. He spotted a large window and opened his mouth to greet the man through it. However, his words (his breath, every thought he might have had) got stuck in his throat at the sight he'd stumbled upon.

There was one second, a fraction of it, when Ichigo was pretty sure he could have turned heel and left. He stayed for whatever damned reason, and from that moment on it had been a losing battle.

He was rooted to the spot, peering through a window into the unsuspecting captain's office. Well, Renji was definitely there. It was the state he was in that made Ichigo's throat go dry.

Renji's position at that desk might have been very authoritative had he not been stroking his cock at that moment.

Ichigo's eyes widened, and as he took in the scenario, well, he could only blame curiosity. The curiosity of a teenager led him to stare at Renji and assess every part of his form. Definitely.

Renji's head was tilted to the side, his eyes screwed shut and his neck stretched, skin taut and slightly sweaty. The tattoos there caught Ichigo's eye as he breathed hard, as though there wasn't enough air in the room despite the open window.

Fuck. Ichigo shouldn't have looked, shouldn't have even been there. It should have been inappropriate, disgusting even. It was. Why can't I stop?

Renji's eyelids started fluttering, and his breath picked up. Ichigo realized his was, too. He could see Renji's shoulders nearly shake, trembling while holding himself back from really moving, from pushing into his hand. His sharp teeth closed over his thin bottom lip, biting it almost viciously. Ichigo wondered whether it was to keep noises from slipping out, or whether Renji just liked it. Ichigo stopped wondering.

The chair made a creaking noise as Renji's hips jerked. He leaned his head back, and Ichigo's attention turned to his hair. It had been a very long time since Ichigo had seen it loose, and he had certainly never seen it quite like this; waves of violent red were spread on Renji's flushed face, sticking to his forehead and just barely touching his lips, spilling on the white haori just barely hanging on his shoulders.

Shit, he looked good in that. And fuck if he didn't know it. He was jerking off in his fucking chair, leaving Ichigo to wonder what was going through his mind. Ichigo stopped wondering again. He couldn't wonder--couldn't even think; lead by something completely different from his mind. He could feel shame and the kind of foulness he wasn't used to feeling, but they were drowned out by something primal, something… hot. He was caught so off guard, that for once, he let it go on. Just a few more seconds.

His amazed eyes traveled downwards, over Renji's strong arms and the tattoos twisting along them, but the large, wooden desk kept what his hands were doing from view. Ichigo's eyes caught what was on the desk, and his breath hitched in his throat again. Well, that explained the wet sound with each stroke.

Renji's mouth relaxed, as though he was especially pleased about something. He leaned back fully against the backrest, front completely open to Ichigo's gaze. He would have seemed relaxed if it weren't for his vehemently heaving chest, his head moving from side to side. Restless.

Each movement stretched his undone uniform over his broad shoulders. When it finally slipped off, the only thing interrupting the jagged tattoos all over Renji's torso was his brand new haori. Ichigo cursed silently again, forcing himself to swallow. It was too much on him, and he shouldn't, and fuck.

"Fuck…" Renji growled. For a moment Ichigo was sure he'd been spotted. He felt a jolt shoot down his spine, but Renji's gravelly voice had compelled him to stay, as captivating as the long, black lines on his body, and Ichigo had to stifle a sound of his own.

Still immersed in the sight offered--no, stolen by him, he refused to contemplate what he had been doing. Spying. Watching. Getting… Something seemed to happen and Renji cursed again, body quivering almost violently- Ichigo suddenly had to know exactly what Renji did. What he was doing to himself.

Ichigo started moving to get a better view, before he realized he was moving to get a better view, and halted. The action meant this wasn't simply happening to him. He was taking part in it. Horror swept over him in place of whatever the fuck had made him watch Renji in the first place, and in that moment of clarity he realized two things: he was clutching the windowsill so tightly it hurt, and he was hard.

Shit, shit. This was embarrassing, and had certainly never happened before. This reaction, this rush. Sure, he may have had some thoughts about guys, but never Renji. He thought. Maybe. (Maybe that was why he was paying attention to every little detail.) Either way, it was no excuse to just stand there and watch as Renji got himself off, despite what it was doing to him.

All rational thought escaped him yet again when Renji made a small, breathy noise. It could hardly be considered a moan; Renji's voice (Renji) was too coarse to produce such sounds. More like a desperate groan. Whatever it was, it went straight to Ichigo's groin, pulling him under the spell again. He hissed as quietly as he could, moving his hand to adjust his hakama.

Of course, the longer his eyes lingered on Renji - his neck stretched, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips, his back slightly arching off the chair - the longer his hand lingered there. He had to stop. He had to look away. He had to leave. He had to jerk off.

Along with rational thought went his inhibitions, and fuck, he had to. Ichigo was never much for holding himself back, but even under the haze of sensations he knew that that wasn't the explanation. He couldn't really blame Renji, either. It was all on him.

Biting his lower lip, he crouched slightly, loosening his sash to reach into the folds of his hakama. He didn't dare to blink, even as his hand wrapped around his cock for the first time. Maybe because he had to keep his guard up, or maybe because if he stopped looking the feeling would go away and he'd be left with voyeuristic intentions and a hand down his pants.

Fuck, he was so hard, and it felt… good. An exhilarating rush instantly swept over him, spurring him on. He was doing it outdoors, staring at another man doing the same, and it was pushing buttons Ichigo had no idea he had. Okay, maybe he was slightly attracted to Renji.

He shifted one last time to get a better hold of his erection, and refocused on Renji. Now he could see Renji's hand, and unconsciously assumed his quick pace, not looking away for a second. He could barely breathe, too overwhelmed by the whole situation - the depravity of it. The fact he didn't want to stop.

Finally, he looked directly there. Renji's hand was tight around his slick, big cock, his movements fast, decisive, powerful like everything about him. Ichigo should have guessed. He carefully leaned his head against the cool windowsill, though it did absolutely nothing to ease the heat coursing down his body. Nothing could have helped when Renji's hips started moving, so he was fucking his hand, while his other hand traveled even lower. Spellbound didn't cut it.

Another groan and Ichigo's eyes snapped back to Renji's face. He wasn't biting his lip anymore. His mouth was slightly open and let out a drone of quick breaths and sighs, and the occasional loud groan that made Ichigo curse silently and move his hand faster over his cock, focused on nothing but Renji.

Oh, Renji was squirming now. It was too much on both of them, and in a bizarre way they became synced. Renji started grabbing the haori mindlessly, tugging at the fabric over his chest as though he wasn't sure what to do with himself but couldn't care. Then his hand trailed to his hair, burying his fingers in soft-looking strands and pulling harshly. Ichigo nearly bit his tongue at the display, and tried to focus on his heavy breathing, on anything else so Renji wouldn't carry him off.

He knew he was being reckless, but he never did care about such things, especially not while being that turned on and taking care of it. His eyes flickered back and forth from his hand to Renji's. They were uttering the same curses, grunting out the same sounds. The air was too tight around him, too thick and heavy, as though he was sharing a breath with Renji.

The chair creaked some more when Renji really started writhing, the sounds leaving him more frequent and even less definable, and Ichigo knew what happened next, yet still had no idea. He knew he was too close as well, moving fast and hard and--fuck.

Just before Ichigo lost control over himself, he looked up, and his eyes locked with Renji's red ones.

Instead of spreading pure panic, the unexpected rush made everything burn hotter, and Ichigo let out a far too loud and indecent sound. The eye contact made Renji seem a hairsbreadth away, and Ichigo's body began convulsing to the vision of Renji's big hand on Ichigo's cock and the other man uttering his name.

He let out another groan as the waves hit him hard, draining him of everything for one blessed moment. All too soon, the cool, silent air brought him back. His hand finally stilled on the too sensitive skin, and frankly, he was too afraid to look up.

He tucked himself in and wiped off his hand, stumbling back from the windowsill. He leaned heavily on the wall and attempted to catch his breath. It didn't work. His body was still hot as hell, his breath was still ragged, and he couldn't close his eyes because he knew exactly what he would see.

Well, I'm fucked.

He had to go. Surprise visit be damned, Renji would still be captain the next time Ichigo would see him. If he could ever face him, that is. Shit. Rukia would beat him up, but he deserved that and so much more. His hollow was going to have a field day. If Renji wouldn't get to him first. Then there was his ego. Staying there, talking it out with Renji, apologizing - all would have probably been the honorable thing to do.

The notion of honor after what had just happened seemed ridiculous.

Ichigo hissed and decided to stop thinking about the consequences. He was never one for overthinking anyway, and for all he knew they could just ignore what happened and still be friends.

Only they couldn't.

Ichigo straightened up abruptly, and looked around the corridor. He did the only thing he could have done, and made his escape, looking forward to one long-ass night. Just great.

END

Click for part II!

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