Undisclosed Desires (7/7)
Title: Undisclosed Desires
Characters: Jyuushiro Ukitake, Stark, Kenpachi Zaraki, Shunsui Kyouraku, Nanao Ise, etc.
Pairings: Zaraki/Ukitake, Kyouraku/Ukitake, Ukitake/Stark, and some others in the background.
Rating: R for language, some violence and slash in later sections.
Author’s Note, etc.: See Part One.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
*
The first time he’d been sick in Stark’s presence was a week after Zaraki had left. He hadn’t been doing anything too strenuous, but after being in good health for about a month, it was only to be expected. He doubled over, coughing and grimacing as the Espada knelt next to him, watching and not knowing what to do, until Hanatarou Yamada came running across the training grounds to tend to him.
He spent that day in bed and Stark read to him from one of the books Ichigo Kurosaki had given him several months ago. They couldn’t make much sense of the cultural references given their shared lack of human world experience, but just having someone there was soothing.
Whenever Ukitake nodded off, even if it was only for a few minutes before another coughing spell, he could feel Stark’s reiatsu winding gently around and over him like a cocoon. He felt guilty when he dreamt about Kyouraku and even worse when he woke up to flowers from his best friend. But only Unohana and Stark stayed, and when he started coughing, Stark kept his arms around him. It had been a long, long time since anyone else outside of Kaien had done that.
The next day he woke up to find Stark lying on the end of his bed, and he wondered why the arrancar seemed to eager to touch him or protect him when he wasn’t paying attention. Asking about it seemed unkind, and he wasn’t sure how Stark would have felt about being touched by someone so ill so he just watched him for awhile.
When the sickness seemed content to stay, Ukitake began quietly gathering up his things to go to Ugendou when Stark went off to the Fourth Division to ask about the sort of treatments that were to be administered to him.
Or, more honestly, the shinigami had only attempted to pack for the trip. After awhile, he woke up to find himself lying flat on his mattress with Lilinette hovering over him. She was livid and he had to endure her yelling at him and organizing all of his scattered belongings.
“You stupid old man,” she growled out, following this sentiment up with curses that even Zaraki would have found to be inventive and imaginative. This meant Stark was upset too although he’d done a better job of hiding it. “You could kill yourself. You have to rest.”
And rest he did. In fact, he slept most of the way to his estate, and wasn’t entirely sure how Stark had even found it until, upon waking, he noticed Lieutenant Hisagi standing in the doorway and eying him intently.
While he wasn’t in uniform per se, Ukitake was relieved to see he wasn’t just wearing a yukata but a lightweight kimono and hakuma with a haori jacket. All of it was navy blue instead of black. His eyes hurt too much for him to make out the tiny detailed designs on the fabric so the older Captain stared up groggily at Ninth Division’s temporary leader instead. “My Third Seats?”
“Your hollow wasn’t too keen on them coming with.”
“He’s… Well, I suppose he is.”
“I’m not judging,” Hisagi insisted, holding up his hands. “I just wanted to make sure this was what you wanted.”
Ukitake exhaled thoughtfully. “It is and it isn’t. He’s not going to want to leave.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Thank you for showing him the way.”
“You’re welcome.”
Surprisingly Hisagi stayed there, Ukitake reached up and rearranged the bag of ice on his forehead before trying to think of reasons why. The younger shinigami had never been inclined to speak to him before, and the one time he offered, he had inadvertently wounded his pride. Or reminded him of a connection he’d lost.
“But?”
Rubbing fingers over scars and the blue stripe over his nose, Hisagi shrugged. “There was a time… You wanted to talk to me and I said I was busy.”
“I remember,” Ukitake murmured when nothing else was said. He coughed sharply and pulled himself upright. “Is there something troubling you?”
Looking ashamed to be asking anything of a sick man, Hisagi shrugged again. “I was wrong. I can make time.”
“Hm. And Lieutenant Kira?”
His expression changed to one of relief and his posture straightened again even as the fingers of one hand brushed over the hilt and tsuba of Kazeshini. “I think he’d like that. He… needs direction.”
“All right. But he needs to ask.”
“When he does you’ll-”
Offering up a reassuring smile, Ukitake replied: “Of course I will. Any of the Captains would be happy to listen. We do understand, you know.” They hadn’t suffered the same exact betrayal as the two of you, but they had suffered a betrayal and it had been at the hands of the same people.
Hisagi reluctantly nodded. “Yes, but it’s better if it’s someone who will listen. It’s better if that someone is you.”
“Very well.”
“Thank you.”
Ukitake closed his eyes, knowing Hisagi would leave and not minding all that much even if it did leave him alone. Well, as alone as one could be with an Espada prowling around his familial estate.
Sometime later, he felt the right sleeve on his haori jacket being yanked, and he slowly opened his eyes.
“There’s medicine for you. Tea too,” Stark muttered, pulling the legs out on a small tray and setting it gently over Ukitake’s lap once the shinigami nodded. “You’re all right?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Beyond the obvious?” Stark asked before shaking his head. “You don’t make a lot of noise when you sleep.”
“I see.” Ukitake rolled his eyes when the arrancar made a motion for him to deal with what was there on the tray in front of him. “I will be here for quite some time, you know,” he commented before picking up the capsules and swallowing them down with warm watery ginger and honey.
The tray was moved, and when he was done with the mug, Stark took that away as well. “I’ll get you some ice.”
“Thank you,” he murmured, eyes closing. Eventually, he felt cold cubes press against his forehead. “It’s nice of you to be here, but there’s probably more enjoyable tasks to be had elsewhere.”
“Someone should be here with you.”
“I’m often here on my own.”
“No.”
Ukitake slowly opened his eyes, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “No?”
“You shouldn’t be. I won’t leave.”
Ukitake coughed quietly instead of laughing. He would have preferred to chuckle, but some things were beyond his control. No, many things were beyond his control. That Stark was proving to be one of them was a relief. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have thought of asking you to.”
The concern etched onto Stark’s features was one of the many reasons why being alone might have made them both happier. Ukitake couldn’t help thinking of Stark’s own worries about dying quickly. Would he really want to be with someone who was sick a good portion of the time?
“Don’t talk,” the arrancar said.
“I’ll cough either way.”
“Then…”
“It will end in time,” Ukitake promised, fairly certain that it was one he could keep. “You will get to look after me until you’ve had your fill.”
“Like everyone else?” The tone was bitter and protective, but at least it wasn’t laced with jealousy. “I don’t think so.”
“Ah, your concern is touching but you’ll only upset yourself. Don’t think so poorly of others,” Ukitake suggested. He set the bag of ice down on the tray next to the bed and let his fingers brush over Stark’s forehead. “They haven’t abandoned me, and I am not being sent here for any other reason than my own comfort.”
Stark’s jaw tightened and he looked extremely skeptical.
“Illnesses are unpleasant things,” the Captain soothed, letting his fingers slid down over Stark’s cheek to his chin. “It’s hard for them. It’s hard for me. I suspect it will be hard for you too.”
“Why? You’re not unpleasant.”
You really are young, aren’t you? “Thank you.”
“I don’t want to make this hard for you,” Stark admitted quietly, looking away before sighing as Ukitake caressed his neck. He allowed it for a few minutes before catching Ukitake’s fingers with his own. His fingers were cold, but not unpleasantly so. Lately the Espada had abandoned his gloves, no longer caring much if anyone found the number one on his hand to be significant or not. He tended to dress like the other lower-ranking shinigami too, but at the moment he appeared to be in release form even if his guns weren’t drawn and so far Ukitake had yet to notice any spirit wolves lurking around or under his bed.
“I find that I want to touch you all the time though,” he murmured sadly, stroking the back of Ukitake’s hand.
“You can. I won’t get you sick. Or, at least, I don’t think I will.” Considering the similarities between arrancars, Vaizards, and shinigami as well as the guests he’d had in Ugendou and how chaste their interactions had been… Well, Stark was certainly safe.
“I didn’t think you would,” Stark insisted, and Ukitake felt oddly relieved. Maybe loneliness was catching even if his sickness wasn’t. “I just wanted to touch you.”
“Feel free,” Ukitake gently offered. “And you have in the past, Stark. Didn’t you carry me here?”
“No. He wouldn’t let me.”
“Hisagi means well.”
Stark shrugged. “I don’t take that personally. It’s not me he’s upset with.”
“That’s good of you,” Ukitake assured him. “And you’re right.”
“I know what it’s like to be…” Stark searched for a word before tightening his grip on Ukitake’s fingers and then releasing them. He shifted a bit so that he looked away from the bed and over towards the painted screens in the corner near one of the large windows. “I know what it feels like to feel the way he does.”
“Come here,” Ukitake decided, tugging Stark closer to him and putting his arms around Stark's neck. He thought it was kinder to give Stark a small bit of privacy in terms of facial expressions and instead of turning him around, the shinigami merely rested his head against his shoulder.
“Do you know… I don’t think poorly of anyone, but even so I think highly of you,” he whispered. “I don’t understand you completely yet. There are few people I do understand that well, but what I do understand, I appreciate. I like being with you.”
“I still bother you. What I am… My reiatsu…”
Ukitake’s fingers brushed over the jawbone fused to Stark’s neckline. “That’s part of not understanding you completely. That doesn’t mean I don’t want you with me.”
“So it won’t bother you if I’m here?”
Nuzzling lightly at his shoulder, Ukitake smiled to himself. “Not at all. I think I need someone here this time anyway. And apparently you’ve chased everyone else away.”
“I don’t like how they fuss over you. Like you’re broken.”
“I am.”
“No.”
“Yes. I’m always going to be sick.”
Stark ducked his head and kissed at Ukitake’s arms. “Perhaps. To me it seems like you always get better. That to me… That indicates strength. That means you’ll last.”
“It always means something will be wrong with me,” the shinigami carefully explained.
Stark barked out a somewhat vicious-sounding laugh before shaking his head. “Look at what I am. I don’t care.”
Eying him thoughtfully, Ukitake frowned. “But you think I care what you are? That I judge you?”
“I think it matters. I think it might… influence your acceptance of me.” ‘Influence’ clearly was a last minute substitute for ‘taint.’
“I think it doesn’t change who you are. I think I like all of you. Both parts of you.”
“I like all of you too.”
“I’ve noticed. It means a lot to me.”
“It annoys you though.”
Ukitake blinked and tilted his head as he looked over Stark’s shoulder. “What?” he asked, turning Stark’s face towards his. “Oh. The way you follow me around all the time? I sort of enjoy that.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s you. I’m getting used to you.”
Stark just grunted, tugging away lightly with his eyes trained on the floor. They were hard to read, what with the eyepiece over the left one. But his energy had changed a bit, and it had become harsher and darker. And it wasn’t lashing out so much as turning and spiraling inwards. He had a tendency to view himself unfairly. Ukitake had noticed that both from watching him on his own and watching him with Lilinette.
Sighing quietly, he let his own spiritual pressure wash lightly and protectively over Stark’s as he kissed his cheek. Sick or not, he could manage to provide the Espada with some comfort.
“Perhaps,” he mused aloud as he lightly worked to move some of his energy past some of Stark’s defenses, “well, it is likely that I read too much and while this won’t prove useful to you in any sort of fight… Did you know you have two charka points right where your mask and your hollow hole are?”
“Do I?” His tense posture and soft voice gave away very little.
“This is your throat chakra,” Ukitake explained, letting his fingers wander over the teeth on Stark’s jawbone. “And down here… That’s your heart chakra. One honors communication and the other honors the heart.”
“They’re no use to me,” Stark snapped. “They’re blocked. Or gone.”
“No. They’re just different. You’re not human and you’re not a shinigami.”
“So?”
“So. Why would that difference mean you don’t have a heart when it’s clear that you do?”
Stark broke free of his grip, physical and otherwise, and got to his feet. “It’s not safe to think like that.”
Ukitake coughed quietly and curled up against the pillows behind him, not willing to pursue him. Not because it wasn’t safe, but because he didn’t want Stark to try to convince him that it should have been dangerous. “But I do.”
“And if I hurt you?” Stark growled out, turning around slowly. “What will you think then?”
“I’m old. You don’t think I’ve been hurt?”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Stark cautioned.
“Then don’t,” Ukitake challenged.
His fists clenched tightly and stayed that way. “Then don’t… When I’m upset don’t do that unless you mean it then.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Try to make me feel better.”
“Then stop trying to take care of me if you won’t let me even try to do the same,” he suggested.
“I can’t help it.”
“Neither can I, and I don’t want to,” Ukitake admitted, looking about as surprised as Stark did. “We’re sort of in this together whether we meant to be or not, ne? To withhold parts of myself from you seems pointless.”
“I don’t want that,” Stark admitted. “I want to have… I want that connection to you. It feels… I like how it feels.”
Breathing out shakily, Ukitake let his reiatsu coil back around Stark’s. Not shoving, not pushing. Just mingling there with the hollow’s strange, spiritual energy, and accepting it. The arrancar looked sad and stricken, and Ukitake felt sufficiently motivated to hold out his hands to Stark.
“Connecting on that level to someone else who isn’t part of yourself?” the shinigami asked. “Getting back what you give to another? That’s perfectly understandable.”
Stark held out for a few more seconds before moving back. More than likely he was worried that the offer would be retracted. Poor thing. But he’d learn. “It’s not something we’re allowed,” he mumbled as Ukitake hugged him.
“By who?”
“By anyone.”
Ukitake wasn’t one for cursing, but he nearly did. “Well, it’s something I’m going to give you. You give it to me in so many sweet, sneaky ways when you think I’m not looking.”
Stark’s expression eased up slightly, looking more sheepish than anything else. “About that… I couldn’t prevent it. You needed it.”
“So do you. Don’t argue. I don’t want to be forced to settle for stealth affection or watching you pine for me when you’re standing right next to me.”
Sighing gently, the arrancar shrugged defeat. “Fine. A decent portion of my affection for you will be overt.”
“Thank you. Now I want more tea and then you can sleep here with me. Since you’re so fond of naps.”
Stark’s eyes lit up and Ukitake managed a weak laugh. “You mean that?”
“Of course I do. And when I’m better we’ll do something else that isn’t probably going to mean as much to you as a nap, but it’ll come close.”
“…Really?”
“Mm.”
Stark kissed his cheek and then his neck and then his cheek again.
“This is very sweet and all, but I still want tea,” Ukitake interrupted, pushing Stark away playfully before the Espada could start kissing his neck again.
Stark laughed even as he gave the shinigami a few more kisses before grumbling when Ukitake pinched his arm “Right. I’ll go get that.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s about damn time,” a third voice loudly declared as Stark picked up his tray and headed out of the room. “Honestly. You’re both such fucking morons.”
Ukitake colored when he was on his own and sighed. Kami-sama, he was never going to get used to having a talking gun around.
The next day when he woke up, he found his arms around Stark. The Espada was in a similar position, but one of his hands was buried in Ukitake’s hair and so was his face. Despite the fact that they were overdressed, it was an improvement.
*
Characters: Jyuushiro Ukitake, Stark, Kenpachi Zaraki, Shunsui Kyouraku, Nanao Ise, etc.
Pairings: Zaraki/Ukitake, Kyouraku/Ukitake, Ukitake/Stark, and some others in the background.
Rating: R for language, some violence and slash in later sections.
Author’s Note, etc.: See Part One.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
*
The first time he’d been sick in Stark’s presence was a week after Zaraki had left. He hadn’t been doing anything too strenuous, but after being in good health for about a month, it was only to be expected. He doubled over, coughing and grimacing as the Espada knelt next to him, watching and not knowing what to do, until Hanatarou Yamada came running across the training grounds to tend to him.
He spent that day in bed and Stark read to him from one of the books Ichigo Kurosaki had given him several months ago. They couldn’t make much sense of the cultural references given their shared lack of human world experience, but just having someone there was soothing.
Whenever Ukitake nodded off, even if it was only for a few minutes before another coughing spell, he could feel Stark’s reiatsu winding gently around and over him like a cocoon. He felt guilty when he dreamt about Kyouraku and even worse when he woke up to flowers from his best friend. But only Unohana and Stark stayed, and when he started coughing, Stark kept his arms around him. It had been a long, long time since anyone else outside of Kaien had done that.
The next day he woke up to find Stark lying on the end of his bed, and he wondered why the arrancar seemed to eager to touch him or protect him when he wasn’t paying attention. Asking about it seemed unkind, and he wasn’t sure how Stark would have felt about being touched by someone so ill so he just watched him for awhile.
When the sickness seemed content to stay, Ukitake began quietly gathering up his things to go to Ugendou when Stark went off to the Fourth Division to ask about the sort of treatments that were to be administered to him.
Or, more honestly, the shinigami had only attempted to pack for the trip. After awhile, he woke up to find himself lying flat on his mattress with Lilinette hovering over him. She was livid and he had to endure her yelling at him and organizing all of his scattered belongings.
“You stupid old man,” she growled out, following this sentiment up with curses that even Zaraki would have found to be inventive and imaginative. This meant Stark was upset too although he’d done a better job of hiding it. “You could kill yourself. You have to rest.”
And rest he did. In fact, he slept most of the way to his estate, and wasn’t entirely sure how Stark had even found it until, upon waking, he noticed Lieutenant Hisagi standing in the doorway and eying him intently.
While he wasn’t in uniform per se, Ukitake was relieved to see he wasn’t just wearing a yukata but a lightweight kimono and hakuma with a haori jacket. All of it was navy blue instead of black. His eyes hurt too much for him to make out the tiny detailed designs on the fabric so the older Captain stared up groggily at Ninth Division’s temporary leader instead. “My Third Seats?”
“Your hollow wasn’t too keen on them coming with.”
“He’s… Well, I suppose he is.”
“I’m not judging,” Hisagi insisted, holding up his hands. “I just wanted to make sure this was what you wanted.”
Ukitake exhaled thoughtfully. “It is and it isn’t. He’s not going to want to leave.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Thank you for showing him the way.”
“You’re welcome.”
Surprisingly Hisagi stayed there, Ukitake reached up and rearranged the bag of ice on his forehead before trying to think of reasons why. The younger shinigami had never been inclined to speak to him before, and the one time he offered, he had inadvertently wounded his pride. Or reminded him of a connection he’d lost.
“But?”
Rubbing fingers over scars and the blue stripe over his nose, Hisagi shrugged. “There was a time… You wanted to talk to me and I said I was busy.”
“I remember,” Ukitake murmured when nothing else was said. He coughed sharply and pulled himself upright. “Is there something troubling you?”
Looking ashamed to be asking anything of a sick man, Hisagi shrugged again. “I was wrong. I can make time.”
“Hm. And Lieutenant Kira?”
His expression changed to one of relief and his posture straightened again even as the fingers of one hand brushed over the hilt and tsuba of Kazeshini. “I think he’d like that. He… needs direction.”
“All right. But he needs to ask.”
“When he does you’ll-”
Offering up a reassuring smile, Ukitake replied: “Of course I will. Any of the Captains would be happy to listen. We do understand, you know.” They hadn’t suffered the same exact betrayal as the two of you, but they had suffered a betrayal and it had been at the hands of the same people.
Hisagi reluctantly nodded. “Yes, but it’s better if it’s someone who will listen. It’s better if that someone is you.”
“Very well.”
“Thank you.”
Ukitake closed his eyes, knowing Hisagi would leave and not minding all that much even if it did leave him alone. Well, as alone as one could be with an Espada prowling around his familial estate.
Sometime later, he felt the right sleeve on his haori jacket being yanked, and he slowly opened his eyes.
“There’s medicine for you. Tea too,” Stark muttered, pulling the legs out on a small tray and setting it gently over Ukitake’s lap once the shinigami nodded. “You’re all right?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Beyond the obvious?” Stark asked before shaking his head. “You don’t make a lot of noise when you sleep.”
“I see.” Ukitake rolled his eyes when the arrancar made a motion for him to deal with what was there on the tray in front of him. “I will be here for quite some time, you know,” he commented before picking up the capsules and swallowing them down with warm watery ginger and honey.
The tray was moved, and when he was done with the mug, Stark took that away as well. “I’ll get you some ice.”
“Thank you,” he murmured, eyes closing. Eventually, he felt cold cubes press against his forehead. “It’s nice of you to be here, but there’s probably more enjoyable tasks to be had elsewhere.”
“Someone should be here with you.”
“I’m often here on my own.”
“No.”
Ukitake slowly opened his eyes, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “No?”
“You shouldn’t be. I won’t leave.”
Ukitake coughed quietly instead of laughing. He would have preferred to chuckle, but some things were beyond his control. No, many things were beyond his control. That Stark was proving to be one of them was a relief. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have thought of asking you to.”
The concern etched onto Stark’s features was one of the many reasons why being alone might have made them both happier. Ukitake couldn’t help thinking of Stark’s own worries about dying quickly. Would he really want to be with someone who was sick a good portion of the time?
“Don’t talk,” the arrancar said.
“I’ll cough either way.”
“Then…”
“It will end in time,” Ukitake promised, fairly certain that it was one he could keep. “You will get to look after me until you’ve had your fill.”
“Like everyone else?” The tone was bitter and protective, but at least it wasn’t laced with jealousy. “I don’t think so.”
“Ah, your concern is touching but you’ll only upset yourself. Don’t think so poorly of others,” Ukitake suggested. He set the bag of ice down on the tray next to the bed and let his fingers brush over Stark’s forehead. “They haven’t abandoned me, and I am not being sent here for any other reason than my own comfort.”
Stark’s jaw tightened and he looked extremely skeptical.
“Illnesses are unpleasant things,” the Captain soothed, letting his fingers slid down over Stark’s cheek to his chin. “It’s hard for them. It’s hard for me. I suspect it will be hard for you too.”
“Why? You’re not unpleasant.”
You really are young, aren’t you? “Thank you.”
“I don’t want to make this hard for you,” Stark admitted quietly, looking away before sighing as Ukitake caressed his neck. He allowed it for a few minutes before catching Ukitake’s fingers with his own. His fingers were cold, but not unpleasantly so. Lately the Espada had abandoned his gloves, no longer caring much if anyone found the number one on his hand to be significant or not. He tended to dress like the other lower-ranking shinigami too, but at the moment he appeared to be in release form even if his guns weren’t drawn and so far Ukitake had yet to notice any spirit wolves lurking around or under his bed.
“I find that I want to touch you all the time though,” he murmured sadly, stroking the back of Ukitake’s hand.
“You can. I won’t get you sick. Or, at least, I don’t think I will.” Considering the similarities between arrancars, Vaizards, and shinigami as well as the guests he’d had in Ugendou and how chaste their interactions had been… Well, Stark was certainly safe.
“I didn’t think you would,” Stark insisted, and Ukitake felt oddly relieved. Maybe loneliness was catching even if his sickness wasn’t. “I just wanted to touch you.”
“Feel free,” Ukitake gently offered. “And you have in the past, Stark. Didn’t you carry me here?”
“No. He wouldn’t let me.”
“Hisagi means well.”
Stark shrugged. “I don’t take that personally. It’s not me he’s upset with.”
“That’s good of you,” Ukitake assured him. “And you’re right.”
“I know what it’s like to be…” Stark searched for a word before tightening his grip on Ukitake’s fingers and then releasing them. He shifted a bit so that he looked away from the bed and over towards the painted screens in the corner near one of the large windows. “I know what it feels like to feel the way he does.”
“Come here,” Ukitake decided, tugging Stark closer to him and putting his arms around Stark's neck. He thought it was kinder to give Stark a small bit of privacy in terms of facial expressions and instead of turning him around, the shinigami merely rested his head against his shoulder.
“Do you know… I don’t think poorly of anyone, but even so I think highly of you,” he whispered. “I don’t understand you completely yet. There are few people I do understand that well, but what I do understand, I appreciate. I like being with you.”
“I still bother you. What I am… My reiatsu…”
Ukitake’s fingers brushed over the jawbone fused to Stark’s neckline. “That’s part of not understanding you completely. That doesn’t mean I don’t want you with me.”
“So it won’t bother you if I’m here?”
Nuzzling lightly at his shoulder, Ukitake smiled to himself. “Not at all. I think I need someone here this time anyway. And apparently you’ve chased everyone else away.”
“I don’t like how they fuss over you. Like you’re broken.”
“I am.”
“No.”
“Yes. I’m always going to be sick.”
Stark ducked his head and kissed at Ukitake’s arms. “Perhaps. To me it seems like you always get better. That to me… That indicates strength. That means you’ll last.”
“It always means something will be wrong with me,” the shinigami carefully explained.
Stark barked out a somewhat vicious-sounding laugh before shaking his head. “Look at what I am. I don’t care.”
Eying him thoughtfully, Ukitake frowned. “But you think I care what you are? That I judge you?”
“I think it matters. I think it might… influence your acceptance of me.” ‘Influence’ clearly was a last minute substitute for ‘taint.’
“I think it doesn’t change who you are. I think I like all of you. Both parts of you.”
“I like all of you too.”
“I’ve noticed. It means a lot to me.”
“It annoys you though.”
Ukitake blinked and tilted his head as he looked over Stark’s shoulder. “What?” he asked, turning Stark’s face towards his. “Oh. The way you follow me around all the time? I sort of enjoy that.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s you. I’m getting used to you.”
Stark just grunted, tugging away lightly with his eyes trained on the floor. They were hard to read, what with the eyepiece over the left one. But his energy had changed a bit, and it had become harsher and darker. And it wasn’t lashing out so much as turning and spiraling inwards. He had a tendency to view himself unfairly. Ukitake had noticed that both from watching him on his own and watching him with Lilinette.
Sighing quietly, he let his own spiritual pressure wash lightly and protectively over Stark’s as he kissed his cheek. Sick or not, he could manage to provide the Espada with some comfort.
“Perhaps,” he mused aloud as he lightly worked to move some of his energy past some of Stark’s defenses, “well, it is likely that I read too much and while this won’t prove useful to you in any sort of fight… Did you know you have two charka points right where your mask and your hollow hole are?”
“Do I?” His tense posture and soft voice gave away very little.
“This is your throat chakra,” Ukitake explained, letting his fingers wander over the teeth on Stark’s jawbone. “And down here… That’s your heart chakra. One honors communication and the other honors the heart.”
“They’re no use to me,” Stark snapped. “They’re blocked. Or gone.”
“No. They’re just different. You’re not human and you’re not a shinigami.”
“So?”
“So. Why would that difference mean you don’t have a heart when it’s clear that you do?”
Stark broke free of his grip, physical and otherwise, and got to his feet. “It’s not safe to think like that.”
Ukitake coughed quietly and curled up against the pillows behind him, not willing to pursue him. Not because it wasn’t safe, but because he didn’t want Stark to try to convince him that it should have been dangerous. “But I do.”
“And if I hurt you?” Stark growled out, turning around slowly. “What will you think then?”
“I’m old. You don’t think I’ve been hurt?”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Stark cautioned.
“Then don’t,” Ukitake challenged.
His fists clenched tightly and stayed that way. “Then don’t… When I’m upset don’t do that unless you mean it then.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Try to make me feel better.”
“Then stop trying to take care of me if you won’t let me even try to do the same,” he suggested.
“I can’t help it.”
“Neither can I, and I don’t want to,” Ukitake admitted, looking about as surprised as Stark did. “We’re sort of in this together whether we meant to be or not, ne? To withhold parts of myself from you seems pointless.”
“I don’t want that,” Stark admitted. “I want to have… I want that connection to you. It feels… I like how it feels.”
Breathing out shakily, Ukitake let his reiatsu coil back around Stark’s. Not shoving, not pushing. Just mingling there with the hollow’s strange, spiritual energy, and accepting it. The arrancar looked sad and stricken, and Ukitake felt sufficiently motivated to hold out his hands to Stark.
“Connecting on that level to someone else who isn’t part of yourself?” the shinigami asked. “Getting back what you give to another? That’s perfectly understandable.”
Stark held out for a few more seconds before moving back. More than likely he was worried that the offer would be retracted. Poor thing. But he’d learn. “It’s not something we’re allowed,” he mumbled as Ukitake hugged him.
“By who?”
“By anyone.”
Ukitake wasn’t one for cursing, but he nearly did. “Well, it’s something I’m going to give you. You give it to me in so many sweet, sneaky ways when you think I’m not looking.”
Stark’s expression eased up slightly, looking more sheepish than anything else. “About that… I couldn’t prevent it. You needed it.”
“So do you. Don’t argue. I don’t want to be forced to settle for stealth affection or watching you pine for me when you’re standing right next to me.”
Sighing gently, the arrancar shrugged defeat. “Fine. A decent portion of my affection for you will be overt.”
“Thank you. Now I want more tea and then you can sleep here with me. Since you’re so fond of naps.”
Stark’s eyes lit up and Ukitake managed a weak laugh. “You mean that?”
“Of course I do. And when I’m better we’ll do something else that isn’t probably going to mean as much to you as a nap, but it’ll come close.”
“…Really?”
“Mm.”
Stark kissed his cheek and then his neck and then his cheek again.
“This is very sweet and all, but I still want tea,” Ukitake interrupted, pushing Stark away playfully before the Espada could start kissing his neck again.
Stark laughed even as he gave the shinigami a few more kisses before grumbling when Ukitake pinched his arm “Right. I’ll go get that.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s about damn time,” a third voice loudly declared as Stark picked up his tray and headed out of the room. “Honestly. You’re both such fucking morons.”
Ukitake colored when he was on his own and sighed. Kami-sama, he was never going to get used to having a talking gun around.
The next day when he woke up, he found his arms around Stark. The Espada was in a similar position, but one of his hands was buried in Ukitake’s hair and so was his face. Despite the fact that they were overdressed, it was an improvement.
*