RenBya - Fire, Water, Burn I

[captain_spiky]

Title: Fire, Water, Burn.
Pairing: Renji/Byakuya (Byakuya POV).
Rating: NC-17.
Word count: 5,270 words (HOLY FUCK).
Summary: Byakuya used to be a tightly sealed vault, and Renji used to be an open book.

A/N: I-I hope this isn't too long for senkaimon, I just got ridiculously carried away. I blame the smut. Undoubtedly. I dislike this pairing. STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT. (Also. The Kuchikis are fucking homewreckers.) (Also. drabbleandfluff, we shall speak of this no more >:{)

They stood in stark contrast, the unrelenting monkey and the distant moon. Byakuya was everything Renji was not. The epitome of nobility – he was proud, unfazed, strict, calculated and cold when necessary. Renji was never cold; almost as though a fire lit inside him, burning in his eyes, his spiritual energy. Emotions had always driven him, so bursting with raw force and resolve Byakuya could hear it with every word leaving Renji's lips, with every harsh motion and aggressive thrust of blade. Byakuya was disdainful of that, and Renji was disdainful of him.

Only when they'd come together like this; they made sense. Renji could touch Byakuya's alabaster skin, could dig his nails into pale hipbones as he took him from behind, and be as close to the moon as he could ever get. Byakuya could feel Renji's fire engulf him, seep inside him and make him forget all about his responsibilities, his reputation, the face he had to maintain in front of everybody. Everybody, but Renji - not his vice captain, not a comrade or enemy, not a Rukongai rat - Just Renji.

For Byakuya, it started after their return from Hueco Mundo. By the time he had reached where Ichigo Kurosaki's little group had fought an Espada, Rukia had been gravely injured. Byakuya remembered a flurry of chaos, of anger, of Renji; fiercely unleashed and dangerous.

Byakuya had remained detached, far too concerned with getting back to the main battlefield as the Espada was defeated, but days later he found himself almost haunted by the scene, the rush of enraged reiatsu and mesmerizing red eyes, replaying in his mind.

Rukia was treated when they returned to the Seireitei, but her healing hadn't stopped Renji from apologizing time and again the day he and Byakuya met for the first time upon returning.

At last, Byakuya stopped him, asking, "Why are you apologizing?"

Renji chewed on his lower lip, before finally saying, "That I couldn't take better care of her, Captain."

Byakuya couldn't accept that, couldn't let Renji use him in means of managing to forgive himself if only he'd apologize enough. For a moment, he let it show. "But why are you apologizing to me? I've never entrusted you with her life. I've never trusted you with her life."

He could see the sting creeping into Renji's auburn eyes, and for the first time in almost fifty years, he felt the need to rectify himself for the benefit of another. "I could only hope you would make it out of there alive, yourself."

Instead of affront, Renji's eyes filled with bewilderment. Byakuya wasn't sure which one he preferred, and it… unsettled him, that wonder. His latest row of misdemeanors was unacceptable; saving Rukia, allowing her to disobey direct orders (Kuchiki Byakuya, aiding and abetting, who would have thought?). He simply couldn't let himself feel compassion - feel needs and wants around his subordinates, certainly not involving them. It was unbecoming, really.

Yet, there they were, with Byakuya's words hanging in the air. When Renji asked, "Sir?" hesitantly, his slanted eyes searching for something in Byakuya's face, he felt the need to answer rise within him.

"It would have been fairly inane to lose a good vice captain," he said simply yet carefully, and the look of surprise in Renji's harsh face was the best of all three. The moment he'd realized that, Byakuya turned away, hinting to Renji this was the deepest he was willing to dig into this. Into what, exactly, he preferred not to conceive.

They'd never spoken of that conversation again. Truthfully, it seemed they were dancing around the subject, around quickly averted looks and unspoken words. They'd never talked about that, or about Hueco Mundo, or about their own battle, or about what was left unsaid in its aftermath.

After so many years of repression, Byakuya would never act on impulse. He kept strict and quiet each time he caught Renji's eye wandering during long hours of busywork, each time he himself gave into temptation and let his gaze linger upon Renji's fetching hair, his quick fingers. Each time their hands brushed together while passing papers and he felt a current run through him, at times daring to imagine the same one running through Renji.

These… revelations, these preposterous urges were new to him. Indecent observations. Byakuya used to be a tightly sealed vault, and Renji used to be an open book. The war had changed him, the failed execution had managed to dent his armor, and Renji managed to peer inside.

As soon as the dents appeared, cracks were peeled open - permitting him to give Rukia a hand in rushing into Hueco Mundo half-cocked, or to let Ichigo Kurosaki formulate a plan just this once, or to look at Renji, really looking; reevaluating him with a little respect, a little fascination.

Byakuya would never be like Renji. He would never be as gutsy, never allow himself to be carefree, to be selfless, to be brave. To let loose. He'd disregarded these… traits about his vice captain, turned his nose up like he'd been taught from birth and further installed upon after Hisana's death. But no more.

The breaches were made, and like always, Byakuya found himself needing to explore, inconspicuously. He was much more of a curious young man than most people took the time to notice, and Renji kept grabbing his attention in the most relentless of ways. He'd be damned if Renji would notice, though.

At times, he could feel sinful desire creep into him. Because Renji still was an open book, eyes wide and burning with questions while still believing to know everything there was to life, and sometimes Byakuya wanted nothing more than to dive in and lose himself in the words.

He was sure they weren't beautiful, or poetic. Renji was coarse through and through – his language, his looks, his upbringings, every bit of his personality; even the way his loose reiatsu would brush against Byakuya when he'd come to the office after sparring. Byakuya would shiver each time.

Ever since the moment in Hueco Mundo, things had seemed to insufferably fall into place, what he wanted and what he needed, but he still couldn't let himself have it. He'd always excelled in deferring gratification, after all, because he knew he would eventually get what he wanted.

It had been a whole year of looking before something shook them hard enough to act. Rukia had announced about her relations with Kurosaki. Byakuya took a strange kind of comfort in the fact Renji seemed even less pleased about this than himself.

They spent a tense day at the office, Byakuya ignoring Renji's snarls and Renji ignoring Byakuya tapping his brush on the desk ever so often. It seemed they were both so busy doing that, they forgot to ignore the glances they gave each other. Byakuya found himself staring deep into Renji's eyes for two minutes before realizing what he was doing, and immediately looking away.

Berating himself for losing what little self-control he'd been grasping for in the past months didn't seem like enough. "Sir?" Renji asked when Byakuya stood up.

"You are dismissed, Renji. It is obvious you are too distracted to work." And Renji is, too. Renji seemed upset for a moment, but then nodded and got to his feet as well.

Then, there was one moment when they looked at each other, and Byakuya could feel something was going to happen. Renji opened his mouth, and Byakuya froze – completely, he stopped thinking for once, stopped moving, stopped breathing – but then Renji shut it and looked away. Byakuya could have cursed.

He turned around, mouth a bitter line, and approached the door.

"Wait, Byakuya –" Renji's hand grabbed his forearm, and Byakuya would have set Senbonzakura on him without a second thought (really, using his first name and tugging on his precious clothes?) had Renji not been kissing him before he got the chance.

He always figured Renji would be the first to crack, but he'd given him the benefit of the doubt so far (another sign of weakness, he thought). Byakuya's eyes snapped wide open, and he did the only thing he could do.

He pushed Renji back.

Renji's wide eyes were immediately rippled with hurt, so plain Byakuya might as well have read his thoughts, and Byakuya was so tempted to push him into that chair and do what his body had been demanding for months – but he was Kuchiki Byakuya. If nothing else, he had his pride.

"Good night," he said, hoping his voice was better composed than his racing mind. He left the dimly lit and dead silent office before Renji had a chance to speak, though he doubted Renji would have.

He was truly baffled. Playing a game of cat and mouse for a year hadn't prepared him for one of them actually taking a shot, so of course Renji went and did just that – went and grabbed him, went and pressed his lips against his, went and looked accomplished in one moment and frightened the next. Byakuya spent most of that night in heavy thinking.

The next morning, he made sure Renji would find a note at his desk – inviting him to dinner at the Kuchiki mansion. Thankfully, he himself had some errands to run by the 13^th Division, so he couldn't see Renji's reaction and have second thoughts.

Byakuya pulled through.

Dinner was uncomfortably quiet, but Byakuya hadn't expected otherwise. Renji didn't bother covering his inquisitive looks, and Byakuya did his best to stay calm and focus on his sashimi.

"I don't understand why you've invited me, sir," Renji eventually said, almost spitting out the words. Even the way he sat on the tatami showed nothing but disregard, and Byakuya was completely aggravated and helplessly drawn to him at the same time. His disgruntlement – no, the way he wore his emotion on his sleeve was intriguing for Byakuya, almost mesmerizing.

The way he looked when he was angry was more than mesmerizing. His eyes told Byakuya all he needed to know, and his stance screamed of defiance, practically begging for soothing, or punishment.

Byakuya chose his words carefully. "What do you mean?"

Renji tipped his head back. "If I wasn't so tired of worrying I'd've thought you were gonna kill me or something." The uncertainty was evident in his voice, but it was laced with something much deeper. Hurt.

"You think I rejected you." Byakuya looked away, occupying himself with sinking his hamachi in dipping sauce.

"What the hell else would you call it? I made a complete idiot of myself –"

Byakuya sighed with his chopsticks just barely touching his lips, cutting Renji off abruptly. "You do not get to make the first move, Vice Captain."

Renji's angry expression vanished, and instead he gave Byakuya a quizzical stare. Byakuya hadn't missed the way Renji's eyes drifted to his lips, either. "What?"

Byakuya arched an eyebrow, hoping Renji would make sense of the sentence all by himself. A wicked plan was slowly being formed. He figured his use of both chopsticks against his tongue should have been enough of a clue to his intentions, and expectations.

When he next looked up, Renji's jaw was clenched tight, and his hands were gripping the edges of the expansive table in a white-knuckled hold.

In one instant, they both knew. No more waiting.

Stumbling into Byakuya's pristine bedroom seemed hardly respectable, yet incredibly fitting. Their first kiss already stolen by Renji's impatience, Byakuya hadn't really put an effort into slow kissing, or any courtesies for that matter. This was about need - this was about long overdue fulfillment.

Renji seemed to feel the same way. Renji with all his ferociousness, with all his cocky grins and quick fingers, with his hair and eyes and tribal tattoos - patterns just as Byakuya liked it - Renji.

Once they finally managed to separate long enough for him to think of his next move, Byakuya lay back on the bed, his kimono hanging haphazardly off his shoulders, and Renji was kneeling between his legs. For a long minute, Byakuya stopped and gazed. Renji looked – wild.

He had always been uninhibited enough for Byakuya to make certain assumptions, but he could never quite picture the scene before him – full of abandon, his hair loose, his clothes even more so, his eyes penetrating and his hard cock clearly visible, Renji was the epitome of desire, and everything Byakuya was not.

When they finally moved again, everything shifted into overdrive. Renji's hands were everywhere, tugging Byakuya's kimono until it finally dropped to the mattress. Byakuya would have reprimanded him for treating the garment like that, if only he hadn't been so busy giving Renji's clothes the same treatment (though with less vigor – Byakuya still was full of inhibitions).

Finally, their bare skins touched, and Byakuya couldn't hold back a small, breathy sigh at the way Renji's body projected the heat he saw in his eyes. Renji was total, Renji was fire, and Byakuya wanted to be burned by him. He wanted him inside.

A shiver of excitement ran through him when they locked eyes – blood red and steel blue – and his tongue sneaked out of his mouth, wetting his lips. Renji growled, his hands landing on Byakuya's hips, trailing up his sides and down again.

Byakuya leaned up swiftly and ran his tongue over Renji's skin, over the tattoos that had fascinated him ever since he'd first seen them. He started on Renji's shoulder, feeling the strong muscles tense under his touch. Renji's eyes drifted shut heavily, deep sounds emitting from between his puffed lips. His hands were straining, like he was holding himself back. Byakuya liked it.

When he reached Renji's collarbone, he couldn't resist giving the taut skin a nip, making Renji shudder and groan (so many sounds, Byakuya couldn't get enough). He could almost feel the burst of verve overtaking Renji, as the powerful man opened his eyes and bared his teeth. His hands slid down to Byakuya's knees, resting on either side of Renji, and he spread Byakuya's thighs to stare down shamelessly, almost hungrily.

"Wait, not like this…" Byakuya managed saying, and untangled himself from Renji's hold, turning around instead. It wasn't anything personal, really. Byakuya just wasn't a face-to-face kind of person, when he was on bottom. The intimacy of it made him feel much too exposed, even when all he could do was let out soft moans and clutch the bedpost as if it were the single thing keeping him stable.

Renji didn't seem to be complaining, going by the magnificent sounds he was rumbling again, the eager fingers running down Byakuya's back, making him arch slightly. Renji hummed his approval, and the next thing Byakuya knew he was pressed up against the other man, fully. Sweaty, hot skin was clinging to him from behind, heat and spirit energy rolling off Renji's body and hitting his own in waves of lust, Renji's mouth leaving wet trails behind him as he gave sloppy kisses to Byakuya's shoulders.

He could feel Renji's hair, much longer than his own, brush over his body, could feel a quick tongue tracing. Instead of the patterns Byakuya liked, Renji was mapping him in chaotic swipes. Byakuya was quite sure it was equally effective, considering how damn hard he was. He moved against Renji, settling half kneeling, half clutching the hooks on his headboard for support. He could feel Renji's cock, hard and pulsing against his lower back.

He was arched again, and he heard – he felt Renji gasp against his back. "Fuck, Byakuya, what I'd –" he hesitated, quieted. Byakuya hissed, for once not minding the use of his first name.

"Talk to me," he whispered, tempted more than ever to peek behind his shoulder. Renji's surprised chuckle hit his skin, and he resumed trailing his hands over Byakuya's stomach, his hips, making tremors course his body.

"Didn't think you'd like that, Captain," he replied.

Byakuya could have snorted. "I'm a nobleman, not a schoolboy." I like your dirty mouth. I like the way my name rolls off your tongue. I like that I'm not supposed to.

"Been wantin' to do this for a long time, Byakuya…" Every syllable in that rough voice made Byakuya's blood boil. He shut his eyes tightly when Renji's tongue joined in the flow of words, exploring once more between whispers. "In the office, I wanted to fuck you from behind, like this, against that big desk of yours. You'd bend over double and grind against the wood, dirty up your neat pile of paperwork. You'd hold on so tightly you'd bruise."

Byakuya rocked back against him, fueled by Renji's delicious, steady voice, streaming filthy words in his ear. Then, something sank in the back of his mind. "No bruising. No breaking the skin. No marks for the day after."

Renji stopped for a moment, and Byakuya could feel hesitation spread in his reiatsu, only to vanish as quickly as it had appeared. Renji's tongue sneaked between black strands of hair, licking him from the sensitive nape to his shoulder blades before saying, "That's too bad. Your skin is so smooth, just waiting for me to take it. Makes me wanna…" Renji's hands tightened around his waist. "Hold you down."

"No one pushes me." His wavering voice really wouldn't do for making an impression at this stage, now would it?

"Oh really?" Renji asked, unimpressed. He was so daring, to speak to him like this, not many would have the audacity – just as not many, no one, would pull Byakuya back and grind his ass against their cock.

"Turns you on, doesn't it?" Oh, yes. Byakuya didn't want Renji's hands to leave him, didn't want the unfamiliar, exquisite thrill of being pushed – being tugged, being told what to do – to stop. Renji's tongue kept moving, leaving a wet trail over his spine, dead on center all the way to the small of his back.

"Don't worry," Renji said, hot breath on wet skin leaving Byakuya gasping. "I won't leave marks. Know other ways to get you off. Plus, there are plenty of discrete places."

When he felt teeth sinking into his buttocks, Byakuya groaned, momentarily losing control of his limbs, of his precious leash. It was new, and it was excellent, and it was Renji. The other man wouldn't let him get a hold of himself, running soothing kisses over Byakuya's ass, playful licks over bitten, sensitized skin.

Renji chuckled at his reaction, though it sounded too dark, too deep and aroused to express actual mirth. "Wanted to do that, too."

Byakuya couldn't let his self-restraint go like this. Damn it, Renji couldn't completely unravel him – it was unbecoming. "Hurry up," he said, trying to keep his composure, or at least pretending to.

"Yes, sir," Renji replied quickly. Byakuya's eyes snapped open. They both paused for a moment. Then Byakuya let out something similar to a chuckle.

"Old habits die hard, Vice Captain?"

Renji growled in annoyance, and by the time his teeth grazed Byakuya's lower back – sweet punishment, he presumed – Byakuya didn't think it was funny at all. "Not in this room."

He was right. Byakuya had enough of that in the past year. Here, they weren't Captain and subordinate, just Renji and Byakuya. "I'll… attempt to be less domineering," he said, lying through his teeth. If he needed Renji for his wildness, Renji would have to accept Byakuya's passive-aggressiveness (though with the way his hips jerked – who was he kidding?).

Renji moved down to bite his hipbone, the outside of his thigh, little nips that reminded Byakuya just why he needed Renji to pick up the pace. He couldn't lose control, and the more Renji took his time the more Byakuya could feel it was a losing battle.

"It's in the chest to your right," he answered the unspoken question, not really making an effort to sound less dominating. Then he remembered what else was in there. "Only the oil tonight," he warned, before Renji would get any ideas.

When the perpetual heat left him, Byakuya let out a little dissatisfactory sigh. He quickly bit it back when Renji returned, though, reassuming his grasp on Byakuya's hip, his chin resting on Byakuya's shoulder. He could hear every breath Renji drew in, every groan and grunt, could practically feel them crashing on his neck.

Renji gave the shell of Byakuya's ear a quick lick before drawing back to let his fingers roam again, this time spreading something slick down Byakuya's spine. The anticipation was evident in both their reiatsu's, in their eyes. Renji's finger dragged down Byakuya's lower back until finally slipping between his cheeks, and Byakuya braced himself, tightening his hold on the hooks and raising his ass to give Renji some room.

He knew Renji was watching. He could feel the weight of his gaze as well as his finger, teasing, playing with his entrance as if he wanted Byakuya to choke out a mumbled, "come on…" It was definitely not the best of demands, but he'd be damned if he'd say please.

Finally, Renji's slicked finger was pushed inside, making them both groan. It probably should have been a moment to savor, the first time Renji had penetrated his body, but Byakuya was far too turned on and impatient by then to do anything but push back against him.

Renji didn't waste any time either, giving Byakuya only a few moments to adjust before pulling his finger out and thrusting back in, coupled by another digit. He'd picked up a rhythm after the first tentative couple of times, fucked him deep and steady and good.

It seemed Renji had seen enough, and he returned to press against Byakuya's smaller form. He could feel Renji's chest vibrate with hummed appreciation, before he whispered in his ear, "Fuck, Byakuya, you're tight… You're gonna feel so good around my cock…"

Byakuya bit his lower lip to prevent any sounds from escaping, even as he felt ravished, by words and fingers and a firm body against his, so good and so bad.

Not nearly enough. When he pushed back again, needing more, needing him, Renji moaned and placed his other hand on Byakuya's upper back, holding him in place and driving him mad. It was incredible, how denied pleasure made Byakuya the impatient one (or maybe Renji found him intimidating enough to think twice about each step).

Byakuya hissed at not getting what he wanted, but was distracted almost instantly when Renji brought his other hand to Byakuya's cock at the same time with rubbing his prostate, making his whole body shake and a long moan to rumble from his lips.

Renji's own moan fused with his, and finally, he seemed to have had enough. His fingers left Byakuya one last time and he could hear Renji pumping himself, slicking up while mirroring the motion on Byakuya's cock. His head lolled forward, and he focused on breathing.

Thankfully, his mind had managed to clear up slightly when Renji's hand left his cock and returned to his toned back. He pushed Byakuya forward, but it was to support himself as he lined up. Byakuya felt him at his entrance, and took a deep breath as the head of Renji's cock slowly penetrated him. Good thing he had, too, otherwise he would have forgotten how to breathe.

The metal he'd been clutching was starting to sink into the flesh of his bare hands, and his knees dug into the mattress, shakily. He was shaking, trying to compose himself as he was being stretched so fully, so fantastically and achingly and - finally.

Renji was slower than Byakuya had expected, and he was damn thankful for it, at first. It had been a very long time since he had let anyone get this close, and Renji wasn't exactly typical. He pushed in carefully, inch by inch until Byakuya thought he was going to burst, then stopped. They both took a deep breath to calm their spastic nerves, heartbeats, shuddering.

"This is okay, right? You're not gonna fire me tomorrow or somethin'?" Renji asked, and Byakuya would have hoped to heaven he was joking, would have let out an exasperated yell, would have threatened to fire him, if only he had been able to mouth more than one single word.

"Move."

( Click for part 2 )