Porcelain [Byakuya x Gin]
Title: Porcelain
Pairing: Byakuya x Gin
Rating: PG-18
Warnings: Rated for implied stuff, but nothing graphic
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, I only steal its characters so I can go on perverted conquests via fan fics. Also, all characters involved in sexual situations are fictional and above the legal age of consent in the state of California, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from.
A/N: Fics such as this happen when you have a million different scenes in your head, but no time to put them down in a drawn out, multi-chapter story XP
The problem with Ukitake Juushirou, Byakuya had realized, was that his coloring was far too distracting. During captain's meetings, or simply when they'd see each other in passing, the Kuchiki heir often found himself watching from beneath lowered lids. Coolly transfixed and silently irritated, though the latter he would not openly acknowledge. He was not stimulated by the attractiveness of it, as some people might see it, but by the fact that it was simply wrong. The hue of Ukitake's hair, along with the shade of his eyes, were frustratingly off-color.
It was in those moments that the raven-haired noble would heave a quiet sigh, the sound of it barely audible. Then he would issue an unvoiced command: a simple, mental uttering of Senbonzakura. The zanpakutou spirit always knew what was being asked of him, and without further prompting he would release his power within Byakuya's inner world, flooding it with a surge of cerise.
The Kuchiki heir would close slate-gray eyes briefly, to see the languid swirl of razor shards that resembled the bloom of a sakura tree. And then he would gaze upon the captain of the Thirteenth once more, through the filter of cherry-blossom pink. He liked to imagine that it made the earth-brown of Ukitake's eyes appear more sanguine, and the white of his hair more lilac-gray. But even then it was never to his liking.
Nor to his remembering.
***
He didn't want to visit the Thirteenth Division with his grandfather. The white-haired captain was too cheerful and insistent with his candy, and the tattooed lieutenant was a belligerent fool who liked to hound him. Byakuya could not believe that Shiba Kaien was of "noble" birth like himself, and more often than not he wanted nothing more than to run the man through. . .
But this time others were there; Aizen Sousuke of the Fifth, and a small boy who couldn't be any older than the raven-haired Kuchiki himself. Yet he wore the shihakushou of a shinigami, and carried with him a zanpakutou. . .
Grudgingly intrigued, Byakuya watched the young shinigami from afar, carefully eyed the boy's wide smile and strangely slitted gaze. He felt that something wasn't entirely right as he studied the stranger, felt as though he were looking at a slow decay, and that if he continued to stare he himself would start to deteriorate. But even with that sense of foreboding he remained captivated, unable to redirect his curious gaze.
And when the gray-haired boy turned towards him, his pleased grin even wider than it had been before, Byakuya felt his heart throb painfully. It hurt him in a way that he wasn't familiar with, in a way that spelled the beginnings of some inevitable agony; but he only furrowed his brows softly at the strange shinigami, and stood straighter as the other approached him.
***
"Kuchiki Byakuya."
"Ku-chan."
Byakuya blanched, anger rising within him instantly at the other boy's smiled-rendering of his name.
"It is not 'Ku-chan,' it's Kuchiki Byakuya! I'm to be the head of the Kuchiki clan! You will call me Kuchiki-sama!"
"I'll call ya Ku-chan, Ku-chan."
Pewter eyes blazed, like the fashioning of a metal blade in the fiery pits of a blacksmith's oven. The noble's hands balled into white-knuckled fists at his side, and his teeth gritted behind a tight-lipped mouth. If he would have known how infuriating the boy truly was. . . He didn't have to stand for such impudence from a. . .a commoner. Yes, that's what this shinigami was, with his improper dialect and even more improper way of addressing a noble.
But before he could demand that the gray-haired boy apologize for his insolence, he felt the touch of cold fingers against his own. Not only did the sudden chill of the shinigami's skin make him flinch, but the unexpectedness of such close contact as well. He stared at the young boy with wide eyes, dark brows furrowed as his mouth twisted with anger. He instantly tried tearing his arm away from the other boy, but those wintry fingers clasped around his wrist, strong as iron and steadfast. The young shinigami stared at him with closed eyes, grinning happily.
"Hey, you two over there. Don't get ahead of yourselves. You're too young for that sorta thing."
Both startled and mortified, Byakuya tore his hand from the boy's grasp, then threw his arm towards Shiba Kaien, pointing at the man accusingly. "Silence! I will show you, Shiba Kaien! When I become a seated officer and surpass you!"
The other noble was sitting cross-legged on the porch with Ukitake-taichou and the eldest Kuchiki, the three of them drinking tea. Ginrei shook his head faintly, looking disapproving and mildly exasperated. The white-haired captain, on the other hand, wore an awkward smile, while Shiba Kaien merely stared at the raven-haired boy over the rim of his tea cup, his aquamarine eyes wide. Then he simply laughed, loud and amiably, which only served to fuel Byakuya's enragement.
***
What Byakuya hadn't realized at the time was that his promise to Shiba Kaien would become a promise to the young shinigami of the Fifth Division. Like he had vowed to surpass the werecat at shunpo, he would later vow to prove that his skill as a shinigami was far superior to that of Ichimaru Gin's. It made him all the more willing to enroll in the academy, but much to his discontent he hadn't foreseen the visits from the very boy he was trying to outshine. The young, gray-haired shinigami would appear when Byakuya least expected it, and then he'd disappear just as mysteriously. He never stayed for too long at one time, but he also never stayed away.
And it wasn't Ichimaru's presence alone that was unpleasant, but his rapidly growing show of affection. The raven-haired Kuchiki repeatedly found himself in the other boy's hold, with thin arms around his neck or an icy hand gripping his, Ichimaru leaning close so he could rest his chin on Byakuya's shoulder.
He was hopeless to escape it, and though he tried to dissuade the other boy with indifferent acknowledgment or heated rebuttal, none of it seemed to faze Ichimaru in the least. He continued smiling and continued touching, forcing himself closer to Byakuya with every forbidding nightfall.
***
"Ku-chan, wanna be my wife?"
"That is absurd," Byakuya stated coldly, just barely suppressing a disdainful frown. He stood with arms crossed at the edge of the garden, watching the members of the Thirteenth as they enjoyed themselves with sake. It was dusk and Shiba Kaien had organized a "small" get together for his squad, though it wasn't small by any means. There were green lanterns strung overhead, and even Ukitake-taichou had managed to attend, sitting cross-legged on the porch with some tea. He looked to be in good spirits as well as serene, despite his illness.
The Kuchiki heir had been taken in by the Thirteenth Division once he graduated from the academy. He now wore the black uniform of his gray-haired rival, whose reason for being there at all was still unknown to the noble.
"Why? You're pretty 'nough; pretty as a woman. Even prettier than my Ran-chan."
"I will not dignify that with a response."
"But ya jus' did."
Turning obstinate eyes on the other man, Byakuya simply stared, unamused and with a sternly drawn mouth. Ichimaru watched him with a grin -- the smile that the raven-haired noble had since gotten used to, though in his heart he knew that he should never be so foolish as to take the gesture lightly.
"Let's have our weddin' night right now," Ichimaru murmured, stepping closer to the other shinigami. Byakuya stood his ground, lifting his gaze minutely so he could see the younger man. He was surprised when his gaze was met with startling red, only visible as twin slivers between graying lashes. Still it was enough to stun him, and he didn't move away when Ichimaru leaned forward.
The press of full lips against his own was surprisingly soft, and for a brief moment Byakuya forgot his usual sense of propriety. He allowed his eyes to flutter shut, pliable lips parting a fraction as his heart sped. Ichimaru grinned against his mouth, then pulled the raven-haired noble into an unyielding hug, holding Byakuya flush against him as he took the plunge and deepened their kiss.
***
He couldn't be sure of where they ended up, only that the room was vacant and with a clean futon. He was on top of Gin and the man's eyes were still open -- barely open, but open for longer than they'd ever been prior to that moment. The gray-haired shinigami was kissing him and pushing at his uniform, sliding kosode and shitagi down the noble's pale shoulders.
Byakuya was busy enough as it was trying to undo Gin's hakama, his mind racing a mile a minute and his hands fumbling. It was hard to believe that he was doing this, and with someone as strange and disconcerting as Ichimaru Gin. But there were too many years between them; too many touches; too many light and seemingly innocent kisses pressed to the corner of the noble's mouth.
And those haunting, sanguine eyes held too many dark promises when Byakuya had stared into them.
"We have nothing to ease the way," he murmured huskily once they were both undressed. Flushed, naked and aroused, Gin hardly able to hold his eyelids open, peeking at Byakuya between gray strands that gleamed silver in the shadowed light.
"Jus' use the blood," the younger shinigami drawled, grinning anew as he pulled the noble down for a kiss, groaning happily and hooking thin legs around Byakuya's thighs to pull him closer.
***
When the raven-haired noble woke it was still dark outside. Gin wasn't where he'd been when they fell asleep, and after pulling his uniform on loosely Byakuya went looking for the other shinigami.
He found the younger man near the forest outside of the Thirteenth, standing by a thick cluster of trees. He was wearing a different outfit from before, an ornate yukata instead of the standard black and white shihakushou that he'd attended the party in. It was made of light colored silk -- pale gray and with just a hint of cerise -- the embroidery plum and of a design that Byakuya could not discern in the darkness. But it hung loosely to Gin, blowing around him languorously, making him appear even lankier than he already was.
He would have liked to watch the gray-haired man in silence for a moment longer, if only he didn't notice something beating fiercely in Gin's hands. Dark brows furrowing, Byakuya moved closer cautiously, until he surmised that the other shinigami was holding a struggling bird. Its wings fluttered violently, head twisting and bony legs kicking to get free.
"You're hurting it," Byakuya said, his steel-gray eyes widening with dawning realization. Instantly he knew that the bird was in danger, that Gin was planning something disturbing, and yet he felt powerless to prevent it. And so he merely watched as the other shinigami turned his head, looking at Byakuya with his eyes shut once more, his silvery hair floating on a lazy wind. Then faster than Byakuya could blink, the younger man snapped the bird's neck.
"He was a thief, Ku-chan," Gin told him, his tone strangely quiet. He dropped the bird, its lifeless form hitting the ground limply, before striding unhurriedly towards Byakuya. The raven-haired noble took a step back as Gin reached for him, and to his silent horror he saw that the other man's hands were soaked in blood. Horror because he knew that blood had come from something else, as the gray-haired shinigami had killed the bird with a clean blow.
But before Byakuya could get away Gin's hands caught him, wet and uncharacteristically warm as they cupped his face. Warm with the death of something the Kuchiki heir hadn't seen, or warm from holding the bird before he killed it.
It wouldn't be the first time that Byakuya wondered if Gin had to steal the life of others to feel alive himself.
Stroking his thumbs over the noble's cheekbones, smearing Byakuya's fair, alabaster skin with streaks of red, Gin stepped even closer. His eyes opened a fraction, their irises mirroring the blood he painted along Byakuya's flesh. He stared at the older man's mouth and leaned closer to kiss him, so roughly (but somehow with an underlying trace of purity) that the raven-haired Kuchiki nearly choked on his next breath.
"Kept sayin' your name, Ku-chan. Kept sayin' it when it wasn't his ta say."
***
Years later Byakuya did marry. It was an official, honest marriage to a woman he loved, though the night they shared wasn't nearly as eventful as the one he'd spent with Ichimaru Gin.
He didn't know what kind of reaction to expect from the gray-haired shinigami once news had gotten around, but the morning after the two of them crossed paths, and Gin wore the same grin that he'd always worn. But, somehow, Byakuya could feel a boiling anger bubbling just beneath the surface; felt a shock to his arm when it brushed the other man's.
And Gin's hand caught his wrist to stop him from walking any further, his grip painfully tight, rigid and near shaking. But Byakuya refused to look at him, his pewter gaze remaining straight ahead.
"Let the lil' misses know that I said hell-o." Gin said it close to the noble's ear, full lips and chill breath teasing Byakuya's flesh. The raven-haired Kuchiki noticed the odd way in which Gin pronounced that last word, but he made no attempt at responding, his jaw stiffly clenched. The other shinigami only continued to grin, his shut eyes pinched around the corners, gripping Byakuya's wrist hard enough to shatter bone. His teeth caught on the noble's ear, and then he let go and vanished.
***
"Byakuya-kun?"
Blinking slowly, the Kuchiki heir focused on the source of that voice. Ukitake-taichou was standing directly in front of him, his white head of hair tipped to the side in evident questioning. He stared at the younger man with warm brown eyes, and Byakuya was shamed for having let himself get lost in old memories.
"Is that a yes to joining the Shinigami Men's Association?"
Byakuya frowned immediately, slate-gray eyes becoming incredibly bland. For a man of Ukitake Juushirou's sickly state, he was vexingly fervent. It seemed that no matter what the noble told him, no matter how many times he refused, the white-haired captain persisted. The Kuchiki heir did not know how many more times he would have to decline such invites for it to sink into Ukitake's stubborn skull.
What he did know, however, was that his will would never waver.
"No, Ukitake-taichou, it is not a yes," he told the other man, before turning on his heel and walking away.
His refusal of the white-haired captain was only a practiced reenactment, after all.
A habitual rejection of a ghost long since past.
In my dreams I'm dying all the time
Then I wake it's kaleidoscopic mind
I never meant to hurt you
I never meant to lie
So this is goodbye
This is goodbye
Hey, hey, hey, woman, it's alright
Hey, hey, hey, woman, it's alright
Tell the truth you never wanted me
Tell me
In my dreams I'm jealous all the time
Then I wake I'm going out of my mind
Going out of my mind. . . -- "Porcelain" by Moby
Pairing: Byakuya x Gin
Rating: PG-18
Warnings: Rated for implied stuff, but nothing graphic
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, I only steal its characters so I can go on perverted conquests via fan fics. Also, all characters involved in sexual situations are fictional and above the legal age of consent in the state of California, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from.
A/N: Fics such as this happen when you have a million different scenes in your head, but no time to put them down in a drawn out, multi-chapter story XP
The problem with Ukitake Juushirou, Byakuya had realized, was that his coloring was far too distracting. During captain's meetings, or simply when they'd see each other in passing, the Kuchiki heir often found himself watching from beneath lowered lids. Coolly transfixed and silently irritated, though the latter he would not openly acknowledge. He was not stimulated by the attractiveness of it, as some people might see it, but by the fact that it was simply wrong. The hue of Ukitake's hair, along with the shade of his eyes, were frustratingly off-color.
It was in those moments that the raven-haired noble would heave a quiet sigh, the sound of it barely audible. Then he would issue an unvoiced command: a simple, mental uttering of Senbonzakura. The zanpakutou spirit always knew what was being asked of him, and without further prompting he would release his power within Byakuya's inner world, flooding it with a surge of cerise.
The Kuchiki heir would close slate-gray eyes briefly, to see the languid swirl of razor shards that resembled the bloom of a sakura tree. And then he would gaze upon the captain of the Thirteenth once more, through the filter of cherry-blossom pink. He liked to imagine that it made the earth-brown of Ukitake's eyes appear more sanguine, and the white of his hair more lilac-gray. But even then it was never to his liking.
Nor to his remembering.
***
He didn't want to visit the Thirteenth Division with his grandfather. The white-haired captain was too cheerful and insistent with his candy, and the tattooed lieutenant was a belligerent fool who liked to hound him. Byakuya could not believe that Shiba Kaien was of "noble" birth like himself, and more often than not he wanted nothing more than to run the man through. . .
But this time others were there; Aizen Sousuke of the Fifth, and a small boy who couldn't be any older than the raven-haired Kuchiki himself. Yet he wore the shihakushou of a shinigami, and carried with him a zanpakutou. . .
Grudgingly intrigued, Byakuya watched the young shinigami from afar, carefully eyed the boy's wide smile and strangely slitted gaze. He felt that something wasn't entirely right as he studied the stranger, felt as though he were looking at a slow decay, and that if he continued to stare he himself would start to deteriorate. But even with that sense of foreboding he remained captivated, unable to redirect his curious gaze.
And when the gray-haired boy turned towards him, his pleased grin even wider than it had been before, Byakuya felt his heart throb painfully. It hurt him in a way that he wasn't familiar with, in a way that spelled the beginnings of some inevitable agony; but he only furrowed his brows softly at the strange shinigami, and stood straighter as the other approached him.
***
"Kuchiki Byakuya."
"Ku-chan."
Byakuya blanched, anger rising within him instantly at the other boy's smiled-rendering of his name.
"It is not 'Ku-chan,' it's Kuchiki Byakuya! I'm to be the head of the Kuchiki clan! You will call me Kuchiki-sama!"
"I'll call ya Ku-chan, Ku-chan."
Pewter eyes blazed, like the fashioning of a metal blade in the fiery pits of a blacksmith's oven. The noble's hands balled into white-knuckled fists at his side, and his teeth gritted behind a tight-lipped mouth. If he would have known how infuriating the boy truly was. . . He didn't have to stand for such impudence from a. . .a commoner. Yes, that's what this shinigami was, with his improper dialect and even more improper way of addressing a noble.
But before he could demand that the gray-haired boy apologize for his insolence, he felt the touch of cold fingers against his own. Not only did the sudden chill of the shinigami's skin make him flinch, but the unexpectedness of such close contact as well. He stared at the young boy with wide eyes, dark brows furrowed as his mouth twisted with anger. He instantly tried tearing his arm away from the other boy, but those wintry fingers clasped around his wrist, strong as iron and steadfast. The young shinigami stared at him with closed eyes, grinning happily.
"Hey, you two over there. Don't get ahead of yourselves. You're too young for that sorta thing."
Both startled and mortified, Byakuya tore his hand from the boy's grasp, then threw his arm towards Shiba Kaien, pointing at the man accusingly. "Silence! I will show you, Shiba Kaien! When I become a seated officer and surpass you!"
The other noble was sitting cross-legged on the porch with Ukitake-taichou and the eldest Kuchiki, the three of them drinking tea. Ginrei shook his head faintly, looking disapproving and mildly exasperated. The white-haired captain, on the other hand, wore an awkward smile, while Shiba Kaien merely stared at the raven-haired boy over the rim of his tea cup, his aquamarine eyes wide. Then he simply laughed, loud and amiably, which only served to fuel Byakuya's enragement.
***
What Byakuya hadn't realized at the time was that his promise to Shiba Kaien would become a promise to the young shinigami of the Fifth Division. Like he had vowed to surpass the werecat at shunpo, he would later vow to prove that his skill as a shinigami was far superior to that of Ichimaru Gin's. It made him all the more willing to enroll in the academy, but much to his discontent he hadn't foreseen the visits from the very boy he was trying to outshine. The young, gray-haired shinigami would appear when Byakuya least expected it, and then he'd disappear just as mysteriously. He never stayed for too long at one time, but he also never stayed away.
And it wasn't Ichimaru's presence alone that was unpleasant, but his rapidly growing show of affection. The raven-haired Kuchiki repeatedly found himself in the other boy's hold, with thin arms around his neck or an icy hand gripping his, Ichimaru leaning close so he could rest his chin on Byakuya's shoulder.
He was hopeless to escape it, and though he tried to dissuade the other boy with indifferent acknowledgment or heated rebuttal, none of it seemed to faze Ichimaru in the least. He continued smiling and continued touching, forcing himself closer to Byakuya with every forbidding nightfall.
***
"Ku-chan, wanna be my wife?"
"That is absurd," Byakuya stated coldly, just barely suppressing a disdainful frown. He stood with arms crossed at the edge of the garden, watching the members of the Thirteenth as they enjoyed themselves with sake. It was dusk and Shiba Kaien had organized a "small" get together for his squad, though it wasn't small by any means. There were green lanterns strung overhead, and even Ukitake-taichou had managed to attend, sitting cross-legged on the porch with some tea. He looked to be in good spirits as well as serene, despite his illness.
The Kuchiki heir had been taken in by the Thirteenth Division once he graduated from the academy. He now wore the black uniform of his gray-haired rival, whose reason for being there at all was still unknown to the noble.
"Why? You're pretty 'nough; pretty as a woman. Even prettier than my Ran-chan."
"I will not dignify that with a response."
"But ya jus' did."
Turning obstinate eyes on the other man, Byakuya simply stared, unamused and with a sternly drawn mouth. Ichimaru watched him with a grin -- the smile that the raven-haired noble had since gotten used to, though in his heart he knew that he should never be so foolish as to take the gesture lightly.
"Let's have our weddin' night right now," Ichimaru murmured, stepping closer to the other shinigami. Byakuya stood his ground, lifting his gaze minutely so he could see the younger man. He was surprised when his gaze was met with startling red, only visible as twin slivers between graying lashes. Still it was enough to stun him, and he didn't move away when Ichimaru leaned forward.
The press of full lips against his own was surprisingly soft, and for a brief moment Byakuya forgot his usual sense of propriety. He allowed his eyes to flutter shut, pliable lips parting a fraction as his heart sped. Ichimaru grinned against his mouth, then pulled the raven-haired noble into an unyielding hug, holding Byakuya flush against him as he took the plunge and deepened their kiss.
***
He couldn't be sure of where they ended up, only that the room was vacant and with a clean futon. He was on top of Gin and the man's eyes were still open -- barely open, but open for longer than they'd ever been prior to that moment. The gray-haired shinigami was kissing him and pushing at his uniform, sliding kosode and shitagi down the noble's pale shoulders.
Byakuya was busy enough as it was trying to undo Gin's hakama, his mind racing a mile a minute and his hands fumbling. It was hard to believe that he was doing this, and with someone as strange and disconcerting as Ichimaru Gin. But there were too many years between them; too many touches; too many light and seemingly innocent kisses pressed to the corner of the noble's mouth.
And those haunting, sanguine eyes held too many dark promises when Byakuya had stared into them.
"We have nothing to ease the way," he murmured huskily once they were both undressed. Flushed, naked and aroused, Gin hardly able to hold his eyelids open, peeking at Byakuya between gray strands that gleamed silver in the shadowed light.
"Jus' use the blood," the younger shinigami drawled, grinning anew as he pulled the noble down for a kiss, groaning happily and hooking thin legs around Byakuya's thighs to pull him closer.
***
When the raven-haired noble woke it was still dark outside. Gin wasn't where he'd been when they fell asleep, and after pulling his uniform on loosely Byakuya went looking for the other shinigami.
He found the younger man near the forest outside of the Thirteenth, standing by a thick cluster of trees. He was wearing a different outfit from before, an ornate yukata instead of the standard black and white shihakushou that he'd attended the party in. It was made of light colored silk -- pale gray and with just a hint of cerise -- the embroidery plum and of a design that Byakuya could not discern in the darkness. But it hung loosely to Gin, blowing around him languorously, making him appear even lankier than he already was.
He would have liked to watch the gray-haired man in silence for a moment longer, if only he didn't notice something beating fiercely in Gin's hands. Dark brows furrowing, Byakuya moved closer cautiously, until he surmised that the other shinigami was holding a struggling bird. Its wings fluttered violently, head twisting and bony legs kicking to get free.
"You're hurting it," Byakuya said, his steel-gray eyes widening with dawning realization. Instantly he knew that the bird was in danger, that Gin was planning something disturbing, and yet he felt powerless to prevent it. And so he merely watched as the other shinigami turned his head, looking at Byakuya with his eyes shut once more, his silvery hair floating on a lazy wind. Then faster than Byakuya could blink, the younger man snapped the bird's neck.
"He was a thief, Ku-chan," Gin told him, his tone strangely quiet. He dropped the bird, its lifeless form hitting the ground limply, before striding unhurriedly towards Byakuya. The raven-haired noble took a step back as Gin reached for him, and to his silent horror he saw that the other man's hands were soaked in blood. Horror because he knew that blood had come from something else, as the gray-haired shinigami had killed the bird with a clean blow.
But before Byakuya could get away Gin's hands caught him, wet and uncharacteristically warm as they cupped his face. Warm with the death of something the Kuchiki heir hadn't seen, or warm from holding the bird before he killed it.
It wouldn't be the first time that Byakuya wondered if Gin had to steal the life of others to feel alive himself.
Stroking his thumbs over the noble's cheekbones, smearing Byakuya's fair, alabaster skin with streaks of red, Gin stepped even closer. His eyes opened a fraction, their irises mirroring the blood he painted along Byakuya's flesh. He stared at the older man's mouth and leaned closer to kiss him, so roughly (but somehow with an underlying trace of purity) that the raven-haired Kuchiki nearly choked on his next breath.
"Kept sayin' your name, Ku-chan. Kept sayin' it when it wasn't his ta say."
***
Years later Byakuya did marry. It was an official, honest marriage to a woman he loved, though the night they shared wasn't nearly as eventful as the one he'd spent with Ichimaru Gin.
He didn't know what kind of reaction to expect from the gray-haired shinigami once news had gotten around, but the morning after the two of them crossed paths, and Gin wore the same grin that he'd always worn. But, somehow, Byakuya could feel a boiling anger bubbling just beneath the surface; felt a shock to his arm when it brushed the other man's.
And Gin's hand caught his wrist to stop him from walking any further, his grip painfully tight, rigid and near shaking. But Byakuya refused to look at him, his pewter gaze remaining straight ahead.
"Let the lil' misses know that I said hell-o." Gin said it close to the noble's ear, full lips and chill breath teasing Byakuya's flesh. The raven-haired Kuchiki noticed the odd way in which Gin pronounced that last word, but he made no attempt at responding, his jaw stiffly clenched. The other shinigami only continued to grin, his shut eyes pinched around the corners, gripping Byakuya's wrist hard enough to shatter bone. His teeth caught on the noble's ear, and then he let go and vanished.
***
"Byakuya-kun?"
Blinking slowly, the Kuchiki heir focused on the source of that voice. Ukitake-taichou was standing directly in front of him, his white head of hair tipped to the side in evident questioning. He stared at the younger man with warm brown eyes, and Byakuya was shamed for having let himself get lost in old memories.
"Is that a yes to joining the Shinigami Men's Association?"
Byakuya frowned immediately, slate-gray eyes becoming incredibly bland. For a man of Ukitake Juushirou's sickly state, he was vexingly fervent. It seemed that no matter what the noble told him, no matter how many times he refused, the white-haired captain persisted. The Kuchiki heir did not know how many more times he would have to decline such invites for it to sink into Ukitake's stubborn skull.
What he did know, however, was that his will would never waver.
"No, Ukitake-taichou, it is not a yes," he told the other man, before turning on his heel and walking away.
His refusal of the white-haired captain was only a practiced reenactment, after all.
A habitual rejection of a ghost long since past.
In my dreams I'm dying all the time
Then I wake it's kaleidoscopic mind
I never meant to hurt you
I never meant to lie
So this is goodbye
This is goodbye
Hey, hey, hey, woman, it's alright
Hey, hey, hey, woman, it's alright
Tell the truth you never wanted me
Tell me
In my dreams I'm jealous all the time
Then I wake I'm going out of my mind
Going out of my mind. . . -- "Porcelain" by Moby