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It’s Renji’s turn to check on Ichigo, so on Saturday morning of the 6th’s weekend off, he packs his things and heads to the human world.
Rukia has them on rotation; she’s a lieutenant now and can’t spend all her time trailing after a human boy who can’t even see her and, anyway, Renji thinks she can only expose herself to so much sadness. He’s be lying if he said that he didn’t find it a little hard to see Ichigo himself, especially since the kid’s walking through the world entirely on autopilot, not really looking at anything or talking to anyone properly.
He turns up at Urahara’s shop, anyway, rucksack over one shoulder.
The shopkeeper smiles with his mouth, eyes half-hidden as usual so no one can make out his expression. “Ah, freeloader-san! What can I do for you?”
“Eh, stop calling me freeloader-san. It’s not freeloading if you’re paying.”
“Ah?” Urahara makes a theatrically interested expression with his body. “And how, in fact, do you intend to pay?”
“With money, obviously,” Renji says. Rukia had tried to lend him some, but he’d refused. It’s not as if lieutenants are poorly paid, though his always seems to go somewhere – new tattoos, and the occasional attempt to get the normal array of stuff that people seem to have just by existing, somehow. Like a whole wardrobe of clothes and spare shoes and their own bits of furniture and stuff for whatever hobbies they have, and at least one box of purposeless crap that they can’t tell you where it came from if you ask. Renji entertains himself briefly by imagining what’s in his captain’s – room, probably – of purposeless crap. He’ll have to ask Rukia sometime.
Urahara steps closer, and turns his head to say, right into Renji’s ear, “I have a better idea.”
-
Renji…can’t actually believe he’s doing this.
So yeah, okay, he doesn’t quite have enough money – still, that’s no reason to whore himself out. He was just going to offer to cook and clean or something. But this is definitely an offer, he thinks, and not coercion from Urahara.
Not much coercion, anyway. Urahara is a man who likes to get what he wants, after all.
Urahara’s no Byakuya, but Renji finds himself pottering around the human world and wondering what’s underneath all the loose clothes, and what Urahara’s face and eyes look like when he’s not wearing that hat. No one is like Byakuya, but that’s pretty fortunate since Byakuya is prickly and unpredictable and not even nearly over his dead wife. Renji’s not a masochist, and he’s also not deluded about his personal charms, so he’s not going there. At least he’s doing a better job of moving on than Ichigo, who has left Rukia’s closet exactly as it was and keeps a stack of Rukia’s chappy drawings in his desk drawer, hidden under school supplies.
Renji wonders if Rukia’s planning on waiting the whole 70 years or so till Ichigo ends up in Soul Society. He thinks about Byakuya, and knows he’ll forgive her if she decides to.
It’s with his stomach in a bundle of nerves that he approaches Urahara’s bedroom that evening. Being at the eleventh for too long will screw you up, since their normal way of going about things is to get drunk and fall into bed and sort it out in the morning, so Renji’s at a bit of a loss. But Zabimaru says, we like him in unison, and the snake adds, he’s interesting, so Renji forges ahead.
He wasn’t sure what to expect, but Urahara somehow manages to confound his expectations anyway. Urahara looks much younger without his hat, hair flopping into his greenish-grey eyes. He surprises Renji by pulling him on top, and traces all the lines of Renji’s body carefully as if cataloguing them in his mind. Renji watches as he succumbs to orgasm in a slow unravelling, eyelids closed and fluttering, mouth ever so slightly open, and perhaps the quiet shuddering undoes him more than anything raw and rough would have. The beast inside him is purring for once, instead of roaring.
We like her, too, Zabimaru adds as Renji lies on his back, waiting for his breathing to calm.
Her? Renji wonders sleepily.
His crimson princess, Zabimaru says before closing its eyes.
The final surprise is that Urahara doesn’t kick him out of bed, and Renji falls asleep quickly in the unfamiliar room.
-
He takes Rukia out for tea as soon as he gets back on Sunday, because he still miraculously has some money left. Urahara had waved him away when he tried to pay and said, “Oh, Tessai needs a hand with lunch and the dishes more than we need your money, Abarai-kun,” and this makes Renji feel a bit uncomfortable about the whole thing, but – well, Rukia needs tea and to hear about Ichigo, so he can’t regret anything.
Especially because the sex was pretty damn amazing. Plus, he woke up to a naked Urahara, long and lean and pale. Urahara is absurdly collected in the morning, while Renji tends to lurch around like a zombie for a good half-hour until he’s had food and tea. Tessai is apparently a morning person, and Renji would resent this if it weren’t for the tea and warm fresh bread that was put in front of him while he was still staring into space and attempting to comb his hair.
Rukia looks tired – she looks tired a lot these days, still getting used to the extra responsibility of lieutenancy. Or maybe she isn’t sleeping all that well; Renji isn’t sure. Still, she brightens when he buys her favourite blend of tea and two sugared pastries.
“Please tell me you actually took Saturday off. The thirteenth’s not on rotation this weekend,” Renji says by way of opening, because so your boyfriend is still depressed isn’t that much of a conversation-starter.
Rukia shrugs. “I didn’t go in, but there was some paperwork to do.”
He tsks at her around a mouthful of pastry. “You work too hard! Promise me that you’ll actually take next weekend off?”
Rukia rolls her eyes. “I’m working next weekend, idiot.”
Renji decides to give this one up, because she’s beginning to look like she’ll either hit him or cry, so he says instead, “Ichigo’s doing all right. He’s still got all your drawings, you know.”
A frown. “I thought he thought they were dumb?” She prickles; her drawings are totally cute, and he remembers that when he couldn’t get his head around Reiatsu Manipulation Theory for love nor money, her drawings saved his ass.
Renji shrugs. “Yeah, but he likes you, so.”
Rukia swallows and drinks some more tea, and Renji decides to change the subject. “Also, uh, I had sex with Urahara.”
She sprays the table with half a mouthful of tea. “You’re not funny, Renji.” Well. She looks as though she can’t decide whether to be annoyed or amused, which is an improvement, so he runs with it.
“Uh. It wasn’t a joke? I really did have sex with Urahara.”
Rukia puts down her tea and blinks at him stupidly. “Um. How the hell did he talk you into that? Sneaky bastard.”
Renji makes a noncommittal gesture. “Well, I didn’t have to pay – ”
“Renji!”
“ – But he didn’t talk me into anything! I, uh, wanted to. It was really good,” he finishes quickly before she can go on a one-woman anti-Urahara crusade. Though come to think of it, Soi Fon would probably join her on that one, and he wouldn’t wish an angry team of Soi Fon and Rukia on anyone.
“That was too much information!” Rukia cuffs him on the side of the head, standing up to reach over the table. She takes a sip of tea, and seems to have spent her irritation. “So...are you going to go back?”
Renji thinks about Tessai being loud and cheerful in the morning, the smell of freshly baked bed, and how there is nothing soft at all about Urahara’s body, except the expression on his face when he comes. “Yeah,” he says. “I think I will.”
In the back of his head, a contented hiss from Zabimaru.
-
Renji isn’t sure, honestly, that it wasn’t just a one-time thing. But there’s no harm in trying, right? He’s left a weekend spare, so he can plausibly be coming to see Ichigo again, and maybe fit in a chat with Chad and Uryuu and Orihime if Urahara doesn’t want him to stay.
“Ah, Abarai-kun!” Urahara is standing just beside the senkaimon to greet him.
“Hey, Urahara,” he says, and Urahara adjusts his hat in a way that Renji’s beginning to think means ‘nervous’. It’s so ridiculous that a scarily intelligent ex-captain shopkeeper should feel nervous around Renji, of all people, that Renji grabs his courage with both hands, steps towards Urahara, and kisses him briefly on the mouth. Urahara starts a little, one hand still on his hat.
He likes you, the baboon observes.
I should hope so, Renji thinks, But how do you figure?
We can hear his princess laughing, says the snake tail.
Urahara elbows him slightly, in a way that should be light but is somehow reasonably painful due to a deadly combination of concealed strength and pinpoint accuracy. “Now, now, not in front of the children,” he says, and sure enough Ururu and Jinta can be seen cleaning the kitchen, bickering.
He sweeps past Renji, who takes a moment to figure out that he’s supposed to follow, and is led to Urahara’s bedroom. “I take it you’re going to, ah, pay your way again?”
And he could be offended but Urahara’s waiting at the door instead of doing his usual I-will-do-with-you-what-I-please routine, so Renji grins and says, “You bet your ass.”
Urahara mimes a shocked expression, pulling out his fan and flipping it open in front of his face and everything. “So crude, Abarai-kun,” he says, closing the fan and swatting Renji with it on the shoulder, but he pulls back the screen door anyway and lets Renji through to put his rucksac by the bed. “You’ve arrived just in time to help Tessai make lunch! If you can’t cook, Tessai will tell you to do some simple things and you can wash dishes.”
Renji draws himself up. “Oi! I can cook! Maybe we can even make one of my recipes,” Renji gestures to himself with his thumb on his chest. He’s damn proud that he can cook; hungry people at the eleventh used to occasionally beg him (or try to bully him desperately - same thing, at the eleventh) to teach them how to make a few basic things like fried rice with vegetables and miso soup. Even Rukia can’t cook all that well, but he supposes she gets all her meals made for her, and it would be weird if she tried to venture into the kitchens and cook; she’d probably get in the way of the servants or something. Byakuya generally shunpos home for lunch, but occasionally he will bring a beautifully arranged porcelain box full of sushi and grilled fish and stir-fried spicy vegetables.
“I’m sure that will be a pleasure,” Urahara says, as if he isn’t sure at all, and Renji growls and steals another kiss, thinking, I’ll show him.
When Renji presents himself in the kitchen, Tessai clucks his tongue and rummages in a drawer for an apron. This one is pink and frilly like the one Tessai wears, but faded and with food stains on it. It’s also far too big for him, but Renji acquiesces and puts it on, wrapping the ties twice and tying a knot at the front.
“Hmm. If you’re planning on coming back more often, we’ll have to see about getting you your own apron,” Tessai says. He looks at Renji quite seriously for a moment, assessing, and Zabimaru says, feel his reiatsu; this man is powerful. Renji feels a bit like he’s back at the academy, being frowned at my the terrifying kido master whose reiatsu was so hard to pin down, and he supposes he understands what Tessai wants.
“Yeah,” Renji says. “That’d be great; I like cooking.”
And I will be back, as often as I can manage, he doesn’t say, but Tessai relaxes into a smile and says, “Splendid! Now, what shall we have for lunch?”
By the time they’re serving, Renji and Tessai are swapping recipes and planning what to make the next time they cook together. Renji has managed to add to the stains on the apron, and when Tessai goes to the kitchen exit and hollers “LUNCH IS SERVED!” at the top of his lungs, the response is pretty immediate. He turns round and reassures Renji, “Everyone is going to love this.”
There’s a moment of silence after everyone sits down and begins eating. Renji waits, tense. Jinta is the first one to speak: “Oi, freeloader-san, you should come freeload off us more often! This is amazing!” Then he digs in like a starving man, bowl practically pressed against his chin.
Tessai claps Renji on the shoulder enthusiastically with the weight of being run over by a cart; Renji is sure he can feel his bones vibrating for moments afterwards. “Ah, this is just something I make at home a lot. It’s not too much effort.” He scratches the back of his neck in a surreptitious attempt to check if his shoulder is still working.
Ururu swallows her tiny bite and twirls her chopsticks. “Then, freeloader-sama, you should make your home be here and cook this food all the time.”
He’s thinking something like, holy crap, I can’t just move in on the weekends, don’t be daft, and then suddenly he can feel Urahara’s eyes on him. Renji meets them and says, quite deliberately, “Well, I gotta work in soul society most of the time. But I’ve got plenty of weekends off.” He holds his breath.
“Next time you come, I will fulfil my promise to teach you to make sushi!” Tessai booms from his left.
There’s a small reserved smile on Urahara’s face, and he’s still holding Renji’s gaze. “I think we should make an effort to remember Renji-kun’s name if he’s going to be feeding us regularly, yes?” Renji’s chest relaxes, but he’s still a little breathless. Later, Urahara absent-mindedly uses his shoulder as a prop to pull himself from where he’s sitting.
Which is how Renji ends up spending most of his weekends off in the human world.
(That’s not entirely true. It’s a lot to do with how that night, Urahara pulls him on top again, but Renji’s straddling Urahara this time, and he says, “Do you like it this way?”
Renji says, “I think you just like being lazy,” but he likes to watch Urahara’s face when he tries different sorts of hip movements, and for all that he’s trying to stay light and half-joking, when Urahara curls one long hand round Renji’s cock, what falls out of his mouth is “Kisuke, please,” over and over again until he comes completely apart.
Curled up in the dark, Kisuke says, “I could use your help with one of my little experiments, if you’re not working next weekend,” in a voice that’s far too collected.
Renji manages a laugh from somewhere, though his body is trying to drag him into sleep. “Ichigo warned me about your “little experiments”. I’m going to live, right? With all my limbs?”
Urahara pauses for a theatrically long time. “Oh, probably.” He runs one hand down Renji’s torso. “I much prefer you that way, anyway.”
Renji doesn’t have the energy for anything more than a growl and flinging an arm across Kisuke’s chest, but the heartbeat under his hand is swift and fluttering. “‘Course I will,” he mumbles into Kisuke’s shoulder. )
Well, almost all of his weekends, really. Actually, he hasn’t missed one yet except to work, but it’s only been four or five weekends so far. Maybe six.
Tessai buys him an apron, which is minus the pink and frilly but with a pattern of pineapples on it and a strange shiny surface that you can wipe clean like a more efficient version of a blackboard. He tries it on for the first time while they make sushi.
Renji is hopeless at sushi. Well, maybe that’s a bit unfair - they taste pretty good. He just can’t get them to look like sushi, or like anything except a pile of lumpy rice with bits in it, and his hapless fingers even manage to knock over a bowl of rice. Tessai swats him with a tea towel while wearing a serious, military expression, and Renji has a tiny instant of genuine fear before he notices how hard Tessai is trying to suppress a smile.
He grabs another tea towel and swats back, and then somehow they’re dashing around the open kitchen having a tea towel fight in mismatched aprons.
Kisuke’s not there until he is, preventing a tray of sushi (Tessai’s creation this time) from being knocked over with Benihime in cane form. Renji stops mid-swat, and he sees Tessai do the same. It’s probably quite funny to watch, but Kisuke only says, “Oh, don’t mind me,” and grabs a morsel of sushi.
“OI!” Tessai turns his fearsome tea towel accuracy on Kisuke. “Not before the food is served!”
Kisuke bats away the tea towel with his hastily-opened fan and a slight squeak. Renji thinks for a minute that he’s about to see Kisuke chased out of his own kitchen by a huge angry man in a pink apron, but Kisuke slinks around the middle work bench and leans one arm on Renji’s shoulder. Covering his face and half of Renji’s with the open fan, he murmurs into Renji’s ear, “Please protect me, Renji-kun; I’m a poor unarmed shopkeeper.” Renji snorts, because this is such obvious bullshit, and also he has no idea how Kisuke manages to move silently in geta. He clasps his hand around Kisuke’s to hold the fan where it is and steals the briefest peck, half-hidden.
“Ew!” Renji and Kisuke turn round to Jinta’s screwed up expression and Ururu’s non-reaction.
She’s holding a broom that’s taller than she is. “Idiot. Why did you think Renji-sama is not using any of the spare bedrooms?” She says, in a completely flat voice.
Jinta makes incredulous noises and looks back and forth from Ururu to Renji, who’s beginning to feel terribly awkward because he just kissed effectively the kids’ father in the middle of their kitchen and - well, he’s glad Ururu isn’t surprised, because given enough determination she could knock him out, probably. Eventually Jinta squints at Renji and demands, “You’re gonna stick around and make us more food and drag geta-boushi out of his lab at dinnertime, ne?”
Ururu nudges him with her broom. “You ought to be more polite to Renji-sama, or he might not let you have leftovers.” Jinta hits her on the shoulder and scowls, but both of them keep looking at Renji.
Renji can’t help but smile a bit, though everyone is waiting for him to say something. “Yeah,” he says. “Uh - is dragging normally necessary?”
Kisuke blinks innocently. “That was only one time - the experiment was at a very critical stage!” He favours Renji with an expression that says, But you can if you like. Renji clears his throat, but Tessai interrupts, loundly announcing that it’s lunchtime and that everyone needs to sit at the table, pronto.
While they’re eating, Ururu tells him that his food is delicious, but very ugly, and Kisuke’s hands and elbows are somehow always lightly brushing him. Tessai is grinning at them from across the table, and later, when Renji hangs up his apron on a hook next to a similar pink one, he wonders if it would be rude to sortof maybe leave some of his things here.
-
Renji’s catching a flying lunch at his desk the next day - though Tessai’s obscenely good leftover sushi deserves better, really - when Ikkaku waltzes in without bothering to knock. “We were beginning to think you’d died,” he says, conversationally. “No one’s seen you in weeks.”
Renji swallows his mouthful of sushi. “Uh. I’ve been busy, I guess.” He tries to remember how long it’s been since he did much socialising outside of the Urahara Shouten, and - yeah, okay, maybe Ikkaku has a point.
Ikkaku snorts. “Oh, yeah. So who’re you fucking in the human world?”
Renji tries really hard not to look guilty, but clearly this is a failure because Ikkaku just looks at him with an unimpressed expression. “Shut up,” he ends up with, instead of no one, because he’s a shit liar and there’s no point in trying.
Ikkaku grins. “You look like a man who’s getting laid. Anyway, tell you what: you come out with me and Yumi and everyone on friday, and I don’t tell everyone you’ve been sneaking off to your new squeeze. Deal?”
Renji rolls his eyes and groans. “Fine.” Though, in truth, it’s not a hardship - he does want to see everyone. It’s just - he’s not sure how great Ikkaku will be at keeping his promise, especially with Yumichika’s semi-telepathic ear for gossip and, ah, persuasive abilities. Add that to a drunk Ikkaku and Renji’s pretty sure he’s screwed.
That is, if he doesn’t drink too much and spill the beans himself first. Ikkaku hits him on the shoulder and leaves with a “See you later,” tossed over his shoulder, and Renji returns to his neglected lunch and sighs in appreciation.
Who is he kidding? Like he’s going to be able to shut up about Tessai’s food and Kisuke’s - everything, or even manage to call Kisuke by his last name.
Hell, he might as well get plastered, make an announcement, and get all the drama over with. Rukia already knows, and everyone that cares remotely about his life will be there on friday. Sorted.
-
He’s not prepared for quite how enthusiastically everyone feeds him alcohol. Renji finds himself wishing he’d managed more dinner to sop it up, or that he were any good at resisting Yumichika’s constant topping-up of his sake bowl. By the time he’s utterly sloshed he realises that, of course, he’s being played by the notorious Ikkaku-and-Yumichika double team, and it was probably all Yumichika’s idea; wave vague unconfirmed rumours in front of his face to make him worried, then get him drunk enough to confess under pressure.
Well, there’s only one graceful way out of this.
“So,” he says, “I’m fucking Urahara Kisuke.”
Yumichika drops his jug of sake, though Ikkaku manages to save most of it. “What.”
Renji sighs, and takes another glug of sake, but he can’t deny the look of absolute shock on both their faces is priceless. “I said,” he explains again, patiently, “I’m fucking Urahara Kisuke. Look, you knew it was someone in the human world; why is it such a surprise?”
Ikkaku gapes at him. “But – he’s a nutcase! And completely terrifying!”
Renji shrugs. “I like him. He calls me Renji-kun, and he promised not to dismember me for any experiments.” This doesn’t seem to remove any of the horror from their faces, so he tries, “And Tessai and me make a great team in the kitchen.” He pauses and considers what he just said before clarifying, “at cooking. His sushi is way better than mine.”
This last seems to reduce them both to mute blinking.
“He bought me an apron,” Renji continues; maybe if he keeps talking, eventually he will stop being stared at as though he has just admitted to enjoying the occasional roasted human for breakafast? “I promised to help Ururu learn how to use a bokken, because Kisuke’s crap at teaching anyone who isn’t absurdly powerful or expendable or both.” Okay, that’s not helping. “She and Jinta bicker over who gets the last portion of my cooking. It’s cute.” He throws his hands up, and has some more sake. “Look, I like him, okay? So just - say something.”
Yumichika clears his throat. “Well. That sounds…” he gestures with one manicured hand, as if searching for a word. “...delightful.”
Renji glares. “It is.”
“I still think you’re insane,” Ikkaku says, which is a bit rich really because he’s been having sex with Yumichika, and was his best friend for decades before that, and Renji knows from personal experience that it’s hard to get more insane than being intimately attached to Yumichika.
He isn’t suicidal enough to bring this up in front of Yumichika, though. “Oi, on Monday you said I looked happy!”
“Nah, I said you looked like you were getting laid,” Ikkaku protests, but it’s a weak one; Ikkaku’s a simple man and as far as he’s concerned they’re practically the same thing.
Yumichika examines his nails. “Have you thought how everyone else is going to react to this?” He pauses. “Kuchiki-taichou, for example.”
There’s a collective pause before Renji manages, “Eh? Why would he care who I fuck?”
Yumichika and Ikkaku are the only two people in all of Soul Society who know about his, um, thing for Byakuya. Past thing, at this point, because Renji knows a lost cause when he sees one. It seems to be the only secret that’s not theirs that they can keep. “Well...there’s the fact that Urahara is more or less a criminal. He might think it besmirches the reputation of the sixth, or something. And - you must have noticed that he’s a bit protective of you. Defensive, even.”
Yumichika has a point, but maybe Renji’s too drunk to care, because he says, “If he ain’t the one I’m fucking, then it’s none of his damn business. Or anyone else’s.”
Yumichika spreads his hands. “I’m just saying; you’re not exactly whispering. The whole Gotei 13 is going to know by Monday.”
Oh, hah. Like Yumichika would have kept this a secret even if Renji had whispered. Like Renji can be bothered keeping it a secret, anyway. He shrugs. “Well, fuck ‘em. I can still do my job, and anyone who has any other objections can piss off.”
Ikkaku and Yumichika share a look, but Renji can’t be bothered trying to decipher it. He drinks some more sake on the assumption that tomorrow morning is going to suck nomatter what he does at this point.
“Eh, well. Anyone who talks shit about you’s gonna get a sword in the face,” Ikkaku says, hitting his palm with the opposite fist. “Ne, Yumichika?”
Yumichika smiles. “I can think of better revenge, but I agree.”
And so, just before Renji finally slides under the table for the evening, for a minute he really wants to hug them.
-
Saturday morning is predictably miserable, but he wakes up fully clothed and in his own bed, so that’s something at least. After a long bath, a light breakfast (though really it’s nearly lunchtime), and getting dressed into his comfiest clothes, Renji heads to the human world as usual.
Everything is far too bright, and Kisuke is the only thing that’s remotely easy on the eyes. Kisuke takes one look at him and says in his best talking to children voice - which he doesn’t seem to use on any actual children, interestingly - “Oh, my poor Renji-kun.” He then proceeds to make an absurd amount of noise with his geta and benihime and, Renji doesn’t know, moving through the air loudly or something.
When they get to the bedroom Kisuke just says, “Bed,” and wanders off to fetch Renji’s gigai.
Well...okay, Renji isn’t going to complain. Kisuke’s bed is comfortable, and also smells of him slightly. When he comes back, he tells Renji that Tessai has taken Ururu and Jinta on a trip of some sort for the weekend. Then, he sheds his geta and hat and climbs in beside Renji.
They order takeaway, and spend the whole day in bed.
-
Renji’s in a fantastic mood when he goes back through the senkaimon in time for work on monday morning. It’s just a shame that the rest of the world is clearly out to ruin it.
For a start, everyone is looking at him. And none too subtly either; the expressions seem to all be on the scale somewhere between Confused and Horrified. It takes a few moments to realise that, clearly, Yumichika was right: not only does everyone know, but they all seem to have an opinion about it that they want to share. Even loads of people he doesn’t know, apparently.
He’s not sure whether he should be flattered, or whatever, that apparently the entire Gotei 13 both knows him on sight and cares enough about who he dates to give him dirty looks.
Once or twice, someone gathers up the guts to shout something: “How come you’re fucking criminals these days, Abarai? Couldn’t get anyone else?” It’s one of the lower seated officers from the fifth, Renji thinks. Benihime could eat this one in a single gulp, says Zabimaru in his ear, and so could we. The snake stretches its jaws gleefully. Renji’s none too happy either, mostly because he was having a great day, which had started with orgasms in the shower and Tessai’s brilliant scones and tea, so he lets his reiatsu flare, feeling Zabimaru add to the effect. It’s pretty satisfying when the guy flinches.
“That’s Abarai-fukutaichou to you, asshole,” he says, and walks off, because there’s no point engaging more than he has to. Scare ‘em off and move on; that’s how you deal with bullies.
He bumps into Matsumoto, who looks - interested? He’s not sure if that’s better or worse than everyone else. She hooks her arm around his and makes a disappointed face. “So a little bird told me you’re off the market, mmm?”
Renji grimaces. “A little bird? I don’t think we’ve passed a single person who doesn’t know. You can tell by the weird looks.”
Matsumoto waves one dismissive hand. “Oh, they’re just jealous. I’ve got a bigger problem; how am I going to console all the girls? You were quite sought after by those of us who like a certain...type…” She looks him up and down in a predatory fashion, and Renji’s not sure whether to be flattered or terrified.
Renji rolls his eyes. “Well, maybe if someone had told me that I’d’ve spent less time not getting laid recently,” he says, but honestly, he’s not sure that’s true. He’s pretty rubbish at casual sex. “Wait - jealous? Of Kisuke?”
“A bit,” Matsumoto explains patiently. “But mostly of you. Urahara had quite a reputation when he was still a captain here, you know. Probably something to do with the way Yoruichi used to leave his house in the morning looking all satisfied.” She fixes him with an intent expression. “So, how is it?”
It takes him a moment to register that she’s asking him what having sex with Kisuke is like, and he’s sure he must be turning bright red. “Gah! I’m not gonna tell you that!” She makes a pouty face, and he remembers that she’s probably the biggest gossip powerhouse in the Seireitei. Maybe he should throw her a bone and she can spread some rumours to counter the inevitable freakish ones. “You wouldn’t find much of interest, to be honest. It’s - nice. I cook with Tessai and play futsal with his kids and sometimes we spend the whole day in bed eating takeaway.”
He’s definitely better at this sober, and carefully doesn’t mention the tour round Kisuke’s lab which took far longer than it should have for the apparent size of the room, and how damned creepy most of the stuff was. Still, he’d brought Kisuke tea and massaged his shoulders a bit while he worked, and Kisuke had him move mysterious objects and hold down buttons occasionally, and - he’ll probably get used to the gigai-making equipment. Eventually.
Matsumoto blinks in surprise. “That’s - actually pretty adorable, you know.”
Renji shrugs. “Eh, clearly I’m all hearts and bunny rabbits on the inside, or something.”
They’re arrive at the tenth then. “See you later, Renji. Try not to kick too many idiots.” Matsumoto kisses him on the cheek then heads off to her own division, hips swaying as she walks. He thinks...he feels quite a lot better.
He’s only just on time to work after the twin diversions of Matsumoto and harassment, but he sits down at his desk in relief. The large pile of mind-numbing paperwork is just what he needs, and if anyone tries to bother him Byakuya will likely freeze them to death with his glare or something. He’s pretty sure he can count on his captain aggressively Not Having An Opinion, too, at least not out loud.
It turns out that he’s entirely wrong with this line of thinking. Byakuya is...incredibly awkward. He’s awkward when Renji catches him looking too long, as if he’s trying to see Kisuke’s reiatsu on him; he’s awkward when Renji hands him some paperwork and their fingers brush. It’s completely infuriating, at least partially because Renji knows damn well that Byakuya will never say a word about it, and he’s therefore never going to know why.
Hell, maybe Byakuya’s just really uncomfortable with the revelation that his lieutenant has a sex life.
Still, Renji’s not staying late when he’s finished all his work just because Byakuya is behaving strangely and has been glued to his desk for the past five hours. He ducks his head into Byakuya’s office and says, “Goodnight, Taichou.”
He only gets an “mm” and an irritable wave of the hand in response, but honestly, he can’t be bothered worrying about the bee in Byakuya’s bonnet. Even if it disappoints him a bit, when he’d expected his captain to be the one person who sincerely wouldn’t give a damn, and would very definitely act as though he hadn’t heard a thing, whatever his personal feelings on the matter.
Renji’s frankly surprised that Byakuya has personal feelings on the matter.
He says as much to Kisuke that weekend after a whole week of silences, not-quite-meeting-his eyes, and feeling Byakuya’s gaze on his back. Kisuke laughs and says, “Oh, Bya-bo. He sulks so determinedly, if I remember right.”
Which doesn’t sound like Byakuya at all, but Kisuke’s memories of Byakuya are a hundred years old, and perhaps his captain was different then. it strikes him that Byakuya is still a very young man by Seireitei standards, only 250 or so, especially since he had to have a whole childhood.
It’s getting in the way of his fucking job, is what it is. He likes his job: he likes working at the sixth, and, god help him, he even likes Byakuya. Maybe he likes Byakuya a bit too much, really, but that’s not much of a concern these days. Not when he spends an increasing number of his evenings wishing he were sleeping next to Kisuke.
The rest of the whole world still thinks he’s crazy, of course, but apart from a few ignorant assholes people have mostly stopped giving him trouble about it. He thinks about this carefully, and decides he’ll send Matsumoto some flowers; maybe take her out for a nice lunch, too.
Honestly, Byakuya’s the only one who still has a fucking problem. Well, he’ll ask the Urahara Shouten club what they all think when he gets there, he thinks as he heads towards Rukia’s house to use her senkaimon, and even if they have nothing to say that’s actually useful, Renji is sure it’ll make him feel better anyway. Kisuke’ll probably offer him some sort of creepy compliance poison, only half-joking, and Tessai might offer to bake cookies as receptacles.
He knocks on Rukia’s door.
And nearly falls over in shock when Byakuya answers the door. “Er,” he says, helpfully. Byakuya just looks at him, expression growing more unimpressed by the second. “Sorry, Taichou. Rukia’s expecting me, though. She said I could use the senkaimon.” He’s been coming to Kuchiki manor - it makes him feel weird even thinking that - for weeks to use the senkaimon, and it’s always been Rukia or one of the servants who answered the door. Renji had always assumed that it was beneath Byakuya to answer his own front door, or possibly just that he didn’t want to see any more of Renji than he already does.
There’s a long pause before Byakuya says, finally, “You may come in.”
Renji gets the feeling that Byakuya would rather have said something like never come back here, which stings a bit, honestly. He used to think they got on reasonably well. Good working relationship, and all that. Byakuya leads him wordlessly to the senkaimon, and Renji walks obediently behind. He wonders where Rukia is.
When they arrive, Byakuya finally explains, “Rukia is working late this evening, and I told her I would take care of this.”
“Oh,” Renji says. There’s another silence, and he can’t for the life of him think what to say.
Byakuya keeps meeting his eyes then looking away immediately, and he’s shifting his weight slightly from foot to foot. “Why do you need to use the senkaimon?”
Renji blinks. Gods, apparently they really are doing this. Well, maybe it can be like lancing a boil - they’ll have a painfully awkward conversation and then they can work together properly again. He misses training with Byakuya. “Er, I thought everyone knew, Taichou? I’m going to see Urahara Kisuke.”
There’s the tiniest of winces at the corner of Byakuya’s eyes, and Renji recalls that Kisuke knew a teenaged Byakuya, and they didn’t get on so well. “You do know that Urahara is officially a criminal, I take it,” he says.
Renji sighs. “Exile, technically. And I know that’s not been repealed or anything, but everyone knows that Aizen framed him.”
Byakuya’s nostrils flare. “Could you not at least have kept this information to yourself? I do not wish the proud reputation of the sixth to be besmirched by my lieutenant’s ill-considered behaviour.”
Ouch. He makes a note to buy Yumichika a drink the next time he sees him, because the man is damned clairvoyant. “It’s not like I meant to become last week’s juiciest gossip item. Honestly, I don’t get why anyone cares about my sex life but me and maybe my friends.” He looks Byakuya right in the eye, hoping this isn’t suicidal. “I don’t really see that it’s anyone’s business but mine who I sleep with.”
Byakuya flinches, and there’s a low growl in the back of Renji’s head. Quiet, Zabimaru, he thinks. I’ll handle this.
He is much more troubled than he is letting on. Senbonzakura is very agitated. It might be dangerous.
He’s not going to fight me in his own house. I’m probably not worth the cost of repairs, Renji thinks, and Zabimaru hisses, but does not say any more.
There is no reply; instead, Byakuya opens the senkaimon. “Go.”
It’s an order, but there’s still something wrong. Renji wants to fix it, because he thinks that if he doesn’t, then maybe it won’t ever be properly fixed; it’s unlikely that Byakuya will agree to speak so openly again. But he has no idea what’s wrong, or what to say so, feeling helpless, he turns towards the senkaimon and begins to walk.
“Renji,” Byakuya says out of nowhere, and his voice sounds hoarse and alien to Renji’s ears, emotive when Byakuya normally rivals stone walls for expressiveness. He makes half a reaching gesture with one hand, then seems to suppress it, but he won’t stop looking at Renji, and -
Oh. Oh gods.
That’s want on Byakuya’s face, and it took him so long to recognise because he’s never seen it before. It doesn’t look at all how he imagined, when he used to imagine that sort of thing, thinking he was delusional.
Well, apparently he wasn’t delusional. Renji has a brief, insane moment where he wonders what it would have been like with Byakuya: what his kisses would have been like, how his perfect pale skin would have tasted, and whether Renji would have ever said I love you and seen a soft expression on Byakuya’s face. Would Byakuya have been rough or gentle during sex? Would he have slipped his hand into Renji’s during unseen moments, or brushed their fingers together when they passed each other at work?
Maybe Renji could still find out, if he walked up to Byakuya right now and kissed him, then sunk to his knees and waited to see if cool fingers would card through his hair.
The air is utterly still. Something inside Renji’s chest twists and tightens unbearably, and it’s almost impossible to move.
He remembers Kisuke, waiting for him on the other side (or, more likely, still in his lab, but somehow he always appears just after Renji does), and how he props himself up on Renji and whispers comments into his ear from behind his fan. Then there’s Tessai, and how Renji still needs to tell him that he tried out his pastry recipe and it turned out perfect, and he wants to try scones next. He promised Ururu more lessons with the bokken, and of course Jinta’s started to eavesdrop on their training sessions while pretending he doesn’t care.
He thinks of Kisuke’s slim arms around him at night, breath warm on the back of his neck, and how Kisuke’s never once tried to hide him or pretend that they’re not what they are. Renji has never said I think I love you, and he wants to carry on as they are until he is sure he means it. He wants to see Kisuke duck his head a little in response and look out from under his hair, as he seems to whenever he’s feeling something instead of shamming it.
Renji walks up to Byakuya, treading lightly as if the slightest noise will ruin everything. He leans down a little and kisses Byakuya once on the cheek. “See you on Monday, Taichou,” he says, and the feeling of Byakuya’s shudder makes him hurt a little.
Nevertheless, Renji turns and walks through the Senkaimon, and does not look at Byakuya’s face.
-
On the other side, Kisuke is waiting for him. Renji can’t help it; he falls onto him, and suddenly notices that he’s shaking. So he wraps his arms around Kisuke and and just breathes him in for a few moments, his scent half candy and half lab equipment. “It’s been a long week,” he says in way of explanation.
“Ah? Anyone I need to dispose of?” Kisuke taps Benihime against the floor, as if absent-mindedly.
Renji shakes his head. “Nah. Just - ” just missed you, he wants to say and doesn’t, not because he doesn’t mean it, but because it feels like the wrong time to say so for the first time.
Kisuke doesn’t question the dropped sentence. “Just the usual here, of course, though Jinta has been attempting to prove to Ururu that he’s naturally better at sword work despite the training, and failing miserably. Tessai has bought you a real sushi mat, in a fit of ridiculous optimism, and I’ve made you a new gigai with all the tattoos in the correct places.” Kisuke leers at him a little, tongue flicking out, and both the baboon and the snake tail make pleased sounds in his head.
Renji smiles. “Can we get an early night?”
“Oh, Renji-kun, I thought you’d never ask,” Kisuke says from behind his fan, and leads the way. From the kitchen, there’s the sound of Jinta trying to torment Ururu, and Ururu’s flat responses as she fails to give him the satisfaction while putting away the dishes.
Renji slips first into the new gigai - it’s much more comfortable, too, not just more anatomically correct - and then into bed. Kisuke wraps around him as usual, like an especially affectionate octopus with limbs everywhere. There’s the sound of Tessai’s booming voice, loudly telling the kids to be quieter.
It’s an odd life, but Renji likes it.