Title: Hugging Sake
Summary: Shuuhei x Kira. Fluff
Kira huddled in a corner with shaking shoulders. Shuuhei sat beside him with an arm wrapped around his thin shoulders. A tapping could be heard, one that grew ever more persistent as the minutes went by and Shuuhei’s shoulders mimicked Kira’s.
Soon the floor began to shake as reiatsu pulsed outwards in anger. The tapper was obviously losing his temper at a greater pace as the sky outside darkened.
The empty sake bottles rolled along the floor haphazardly, the sound of glass clinking against the wood panelling joined the muffled shouts from beyond the barricaded door because the taps had been promoted to a more violent banging.
Tears rolled down both men’s faces as they hugged one another tightly.
Finally Shuuhei spoke to his partner through the haze of wetness.
“That’s the last time we get wasted in Renji’s bedroom.”
“Agreed,” Kira managed through the laughter, “do you think he’ll ever get tired so we can...”
“...make our getaway?” Shuuhei finished for him.
Kira nodded, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol.
Shuuhei looked to the white haori folded neatly on the futon, the sheets rumpled by their wild mid morning sex.
“I doubt it. That’s Kuchiki’s.”
Kira chuckled. “Why do I get the feeling that we’re soon to be running from cherry blossom and a big baboon snake?”
“Because we are,” Shuuhei put in as he stood up, dragging Kira with him, as right on cue, the door gave up its struggle with Renji. Together they faced the irate man. The faint trace of Byakuya’s fast approaching reiatsu giving full strength to Kira’s prediction.
Title: Be Grey
Summary: Shuuhei x Kira. Angst. Shuuhei introspection
Shuuhei walked into the bathroom. It had been a long day and judging by the naked man sitting upon the white tiles of the shower cubicle it was to be a long night too.
He moved swiftly to discontinue the flow of water coursing down upon that bowed blonde head.
A single blue eye coursing its own liquid looked up at him in accusation.
Now if only he could interrupt the flow of the liquid pouring from his eyes. If only it were as easy as the twist of a dial. If only.
“Why this obsession with cleanliness, Izuru?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why, because he did?”
“I’m disgusting. Unclean. I try to wash it off. I try...” his words dying.
Shuuhei leaned into the wall and crossed his arms as he gazed down upon the grown man at his feet.
“You know pure is boring, don’t you?”
Kira did not answer; his fingers instead traced the white tile upon which he sat.
“I wish I were white,” he said wistfully.
Shuuhei sighed into the sudden silence preceding this statement. His first attempt had proven unsuccessful. Experience had taught him that Kira did not respond well to light hearted consolences. It was time to move onto more serious reasoning.
“White is the most impure of colours.”
“What?” Kira asked distracted from his torment, a moment, by these words.
“What do you mean?” His head finally lifting from his chest as he looked up at the scarred man.
“You didn’t know?” Shuuhei said softly in a gentle tone.
“White is the most impure of all colours. Easily corrupted and easily succumbing to the slightest stain. It’s a mixer, a base. There is nothing absolute about it. The opposite is true.”
He let his words hang a moment as he went over them in his own mind. Had he communicated himself well enough? Should he continue? Perhaps he had not explained the concept clearly? It was hard to concentrate with his arms aching to hold this man close to him. But the comfort of his flesh would only stay Kira for a little while. The man was as deep as he and as wounded and the occasion demanded words and a meaning – a meaning that his body could not always communicate.
The tears stopped their journey as slender arms beseeched Shuuhei.
Kira asked to be held but Shuuhei stood unmoving with his arms resolutely resting on his chest.
“Do you understand what I am saying?”
The arms dropped suddenly with a violence that communicated Kira’s anger. Shuuhei waited.
Who knew that one could commit such anger and recrimination into one syllable? Who knew?
“Shall I explain ag-?”
“You’re twisting things. Black is black and white is white!”
Shuuhei felt his grip on the situation and his inner calm come under attack. It had a been a long day and he didn’t need a night of comforting Kira. He didn’t need it. He was exhausted. Wasn’t it enough? Wasn’t he enough?
“I’m surprised you’d want to be a colour that Aizen adopted for his cause! I’d have thought you could at least have taken comfort in this,” as he gestured to his black Shinigami uniform.
Kira laughed. The tone brittle and in keeping with his vulnerability.
“I take comfort in nothing,” he said quietly, his gaze moving once more to the white tile.
Shuuhei knew the statement was intended solely at him, with the implication that he meant nothing to this man, but if his words were true he would not be here now, demanding pity. He knew this; he did, so why did he suddenly hurt so badly?
“Izuru,” he began then stopped, unsure of how to continue.
He ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of self comfort before continuing, “You are not pure, it is true, but why the anguish? You are not a child wrapped up in naivety and innocence. You are a man. Why is that so difficult, why is the,” a breath to steady himself for the next word, “betrayal so hard to deal with?”
He sounded heartless. He knew it. The stiffening of Kira’s shoulders told him this more forcefully than his own conscience. He wasn’t equipped to deal with this. But deal, he had to. There were only so many sake bottles to take away the pain, only so many before one became dependent, and Kira was close to that line separating sobriety and alcoholism. So very close and the shower water not permitting he could slightly detect the scent of spirits. So he had been drinking.
Kira said nothing. Shuuhei did not move from where he stood as his mind whirled with all the things unsaid, some of his reasoning taking a battering from his newly erupting emotions. Stay calm, he told himself, even as his breathing belied his efforts and sped up to match his increasing anxiety.
Honesty was his last gambit. Perhaps his own pain would reach Kira and bring out the best in his character? He too was hurting. He too had been betrayed.
Renji’s get over yourself attitude, and Matsumoto’s offers of drink were not helping. His own efforts had proved little better. But it was hard, hard to admit his pain, even to one in the same position, even to one he loved; it was hard. Shuuhei did not like to share his feelings. It somehow made the pain all the more difficult. Wasn’t it, after all, much safer locked behind a door, ignored?
But Kira needed to hear it. Kira needed to care for someone other than himself. Kira needed to care for him. The roles needed to be reversed, or needed to appear to be, when in reality he would be the one doing the healing and hurting himself once again in the process. For Kira.
“Aren’t I enough?” He demanded suddenly, with his arms dropping down from his chest to hang slack at his side. He allowed his pain passage into his vocals, and was secretly pleased with the anguish the words were wrapped in.
Kira reacted quickly. He scrambled up from the slick floor and nearly lost his balance before stumbling before Shuuhei who had now hung his head for greater affect.
“I’m sorry,” he managed, with his own pain put aside in the face of another’s.
Kira buried his head into Shuuhei’s shoulder, his arms embracing his neck and back as he pressed his body flush to the black uniform.
Words poured forth in a stop start motion, “I didn’t mean it. Hisagi, I’m sorry. You mean everything to me! I didn’t mean it. I was angry. I didn’t-I was upset. You mean so much. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t, I don’t want-Hisagi, I need you.”
“Aren’t I in pain too? Haven’t I suffered also?” His words, without meaning too, becoming honest and losing the manipulation he had strived for as his pain, suddenly finding vent, surfaced fully.
The wetness soaking into his uniform was nothing to the wetness pouring forth from his eyes as he began crying in Kira’s arms; the face of Tousen Kaname swimming before him; his just facade mocking his loyalty, even now.
The hold on him tightened. The silence also tightened around him comfortingly as Kira listened to his pain and offered none of his own in return. He only offered his understanding as a hand moved to stroke his hair, and lips moved to kiss away the salty tears in continuous motion.
Shuuhei gasped, choked and chewed his words before spitting them out, much of his pain exiting him as he did so, but the poison could not be removed by venting alone, the words could only transport so much of his pain outside of his body. Kira knew this and so removing his lips from the wet flesh, he put his mouth to better use by beginning a soft litany.
“I love you Shuuhei and that is enough.”
And it was. It was more than he needed. The sobs began to lesson in intensity. The water from his eyes began to dry. The vision of his Captain dissolved into nothing. Kira stepped back from him. The hug ended.
“I am glad for this.” Kira said as his eyes roamed down the black uniform.
“Do you see what I mean now?” Shuuhei rasped with his voice choked from crying. “Look at how the colour absorbs everything yet nothing. My tears, the water has proved ineffectual for the slight change in tone has dried to nothing. Look at the purity in this colour. It remains untouched. If you long to be any colour long to be black, or better still grey, for haven’t I told you already?” A small smirk as his hands reached out to the naked man, “absolutes are boring. Be grey for me Izuru.”
“Hisagi, for you I will be anything,” as he took that one small step into those arms welcoming him.