a/n: At last! The final chapter! And the reason for the M rating. Remember, this is a ficlet series, so this part takes place sometime after the previous chapter.
Toushirou was not an impatient person. This had not changed with the passing decades, despite his maturity. He prided himself on his ability to remain calm given any situation. Honestly, they'd given him Matsumoto as his vice-captain. If he hadn't had immense stores of patience, he would have turned her into an ice statue a long time ago. As it were, she still moved freely to this day, and Toushirou developed a healthy fear of large breasts.
In any case, Toushirou considered himself the epitome of patience, one that had only increased over the years and made his will indomitable. He could handle nearly any situation with a grace that surprised many a Shinigami. The age factor was still a problem for him, so he resolved to at least let his forbearance speak for him.
He could not, however, have anticipated the situation before him.
Toushirou was growing irritated in all the wrong ways. To put it simply, to Toushirou, for the longest time his only existence had been the Shinigami and growing older and fighting in wars and getting taller and well, captaining the tenth division. In there, he hadn't had much room to spare for other things such as romantic liaisons or releasing... tensions.
So now that he finally had a means to do so – after many long years of unrequited yearning – he expected an end to this unintentional celibacy. He would have thought Jyuushiro would want the same. They were both healthy males. Surely, it was only natural.
Except that Jyuushiro seemed to think that kissing was good enough and stopped right there. The occasional grope or two were usually accompanied by faint looks of horror-what-have-I-done and then a hasty exit, and frankly, Toushirou's infinite patience had reached the point of no return.
Jyuushiro was the perfect gentleman. And Toushirou respected that. He honestly did. He respected that Jyuushiro wanted to take their relationship at a certain pace and that he didn't want to ruin anything – for lack of a better word. Toushirou understood all of that.
But then, they had worked together for the better part of two centuries. And they had fought in a war together. And they had been dating for more than half a year! It was the last that really convinced Toushirou enough was enough. He was ready decades ago. It was time Jyuushiro got with the program.
Kyouraku found the whole situation terribly funny, which was why Toushirou had long stopped griping to him about it. Matsumoto was of no help in the matter since her idea of a solution had been to strip naked, perch on Jyuushiro's desk, and wait to strike. Toushirou admitted if only to himself that in his desperation he had actually considered her ludicrous idea before dismissing it and her for the day. But it lingered in the back of his mind as a last resort. Along with Kyouraku's absurd suggestion to simply wait and let things play out as they would.
Toushirou was tired of waiting.
He wondered if perhaps the problem was that Jyuushiro still considered him a child. Which was absurd because he was so far from being a kid it wasn't even funny anymore. And a growth spurt had given him enough height to match Jyuushiro's, if not surpass it. He didn't look all of ten anymore – thank the gods – but resembling that of a human teenager. Maybe that was the issue? But honestly, Toushirou couldn't wait another century or so until he looked like an adult because he had been an adult for decades, and he was getting really tired of being treated like a child.
"Knock, knock!" Matsumoto sang cheerily and very effectively interrupting his thoughts. Performing said action milliseconds before striding into Toushirou's office without direct invitation. She sauntered his direction with a bundle of papers and envelopes. "I have a – Whoa, taichou! What's with that look?"
He narrowed his eyes. As if his scowl was something different from usual. "Did you have an important reason for strolling in here uninvited?"
As usual, she was unperturbed by the hostility wafting her direction, unceremoniously dumping her armful on top of his desk in a scattered pile. Painted fingernails deftly plucked a specific envelope from the stack, and she waved it in the air triumphantly.
"Hakama feeling a bit tight, taichou?" Matsumoto asked too merrily for his liking and winked at him. Winked at him. "Need a hand?"
He held out his own. "Just give me the letter, Matsumoto. Now!"
She found his situation all too amusing, and as his mood worsened, hers seemed to get better. It was rather creepy to be sitting in his office and hear her giggle from the next room. Bad enough that he let her go home early some days just so he didn't have to listen to it.
"You're no fun." His vice-captain pouted but handed over the envelope anyway.
He scanned the handwriting, immediately recognizing it, and felt a ridiculous surge of hope. Stupidly eager, Toushirou slid a finger and ripped it open carefully, dropping the letter into his hand.
Matsumoto still had not left the room.
He looked up, unwilling to unfold it in her presence. "You can go," Toushirou informed her as she stood there expectantly.
She just grinned at him, bouncing on her heels and causing other things to jiggle. He wondered if it ever bothered her that she was the reason he was gay. And Toushirou was going to go with that excuse for the rest of his life. He had become immune to breasts, and it was entirely her fault.
"You wouldn't be this frustrated if you just listened to my idea!" Matsumoto reminded him, flouncing out of the room and sliding the door shut behind her.
To his credit, Toushirou saved throwing something at her until after she left the room, thereby managing not to cause harm and avoiding the dreaded anger management classes. Still, she had a point. All those subtle comments were pointing to one thing, Toushirou needed to get laid in a very bad way. All this restraint wasn't good for his health.
Sucking in a breath, he returned to his note and unfolded the paper, scanning the brief invitation. Dinner – or more precisely, a lesson on how to cook – that night at Jyuushiro's home with helpful directions attached. If that didn't sound like opportunity, Toushirou didn't know what did.
Enough was enough. It was time Toushirou stopped waiting and started acting.
"I trust you found it easily enough?" Jyuushiro asked as he held the door open for Toushirou with that light smile on his face.
"Even if I hadn't, I'm pretty sure someone could have pointed me in the right direction," Toushirou answered, stepping inside.
It occurred to him that as much as they had dated and chastely kissed and guiltily groped, they hadn't been to one another's house. Well, that would have to be rectified.
He looked around with intent interest, unsurprised by the tasteful décor and comfortable atmosphere. It was a place that invited someone inside, making them feel at home the moment they walked inside. A lot like Jyuushiro himself.
The older man laughed, closing the door behind him. "I picked out something simple, one of the first recipes I taught myself," he explained, hand falling on the small of Toushirou's back as he guided him through the house.
It felt really warm there and right, making Toushirou's body heat all the way to his toes. His heart thumped loudly in his chest.
'Be bold,' he reminded himself. 'You'll never get what you want if you don't try for it.'
"Nothing ever happens if you sit around and wait for it," Matsumoto had said to him, way back when this whole thing had started. And he'd hated it at the time, but she was right. And if not for her, they wouldn't even be here now because Toushirou would've never taken that first step. Perhaps it just required the reckless bravery of youth to prompt them into the next step.
"I thought miso soup would be a good place to start since everyone agrees that it's a basic of cooking," Jyuushiro continued cheerily, completely oblivious to the fact that Toushirou was really not interested in a cooking lesson at the moment. To be honest, it was what he had come here for, but Toushirou could always learn how to make soup some other time.
Now was the time to be bold.
Jyuushiro led him to the kitchen, and Toushirou gave it a brief flicker of interest. Spotless, bright and cheery, speckles of yellow and light brown everywhere with some ingredients sitting and waiting on the counter. Jyuushiro really did have cooking lessons in mind. Almost a pity that Toushirou wanted to ruin – or improve, depending on how one looked at it – his plans.
Jyuushiro's hesitant query reminded him that he hadn't really said anything since first arriving, lost to his own decisions. He took a breath and turned to look at his…boyfriend? Lover? Friend? Hard to tell this soon.
He thought of all the words that he had planned to say, but they all died when faced with the exact situation. He looked into dark eyes, and his voice left him. All that remained were actions, and well, the moment seemed to call for them. So he reached for Jyuushiro's hand and gently pulled him closer, the other captain surprised.
He opened his mouth, probably to question him, but Toushirou didn't give him a chance to speak. He just pressed his lips against Jyuushiro's and surrendered to the passion flowing through his limbs. An intoxicating scent seemed to surround the older man, sea breeze and subtle sweetness, and Toushirou groaned low in his throat. They had kissed before but never with so much intent in Toushirou's motions.
His other hand wrapped around Jyuushiro, pulling the older male tight against him until their bodies were pressed together. Toushirou deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into Jyuushiro's mouth and was relieved when Jyuushiro lifted a hand, circling it around him. But he didn't want to just kiss. And he needed to say something to that effect.
Toushirou broke their lips apart, licking them with a brief pass of his tongue before catching Jyuushiro's dark gaze. "I am not a child," he said because it happened to be the first thing on his list. "And you don't need to hold back for my sake."
A flush stole into Jyuushiro's face, as though embarrassed Toushirou had seen right through his reasoning. "And here I thought you were the patient one," he commented, a light chuckle leaving reddened lips.
"Not anymore," Toushirou muttered and kissed him again, a slow heat pulsing in his body, heart thundering loudly. He wished he had paid more attention to the brief tour of the house because he couldn't remember where the bedroom was.
Luckily, Jyuushiro must have realized his missing memory because he deftly steered them down the hall, restraint forgotten in the wake of Toushirou's declaration. They stumbled and shed clothes. An obi here. A haori there. Tabi like four little strips to mark the path they had taken. Hands roamed with Toushirou eager to touch, eager to feel skin beneath his fingertips.
The door to the bedroom banged open, and they fell on the futon blindly, Toushirou pinning Jyuushiro beneath him. He broke off the kiss to nibble along a jaw line, fascinated by the strange grace it seemed to carry.
Prodigy that he was, Toushirou had done his research. He knew in theory how this was supposed to go. But books and educational videos and magazines couldn't prepare him for the barrage of sensations. To the feel of skin beneath his hands and the taste of Jyuushiro's lips – something sweet and tea-like – or the little gasping sounds that the older man made when Toushirou brushed his fingers down his side.
It bombarded him from all directions, made his stomach twist up into his knots and heat flush his entire body. It made him lose his rationality as he kissed Jyuushiro, deepening an already tight embrace. Wanting to be closer, higher, hotter, more. His fingers scrabbled for clothing, clumsy in their eagerness.
Jyuushiro was a moving creature beneath him, twisting and writhing, hands roaming to the same extent as Toushirou's until they were all tangled up together. Toushirou's hakama hung from a single foot and one of Jyuushiro's arms were caught in his haori, but neither of them seemed to notice. Toushirou admired the spray of white that haloed Jyuushiro's head, the flush to his pale skin. And he licked a long line up a bare throat, the taste of salty sweat on his tongue. Strangely, it didn't bother him.
A hand skirted down his back, tracing his spine, and Toushirou rumbled in his chest. He shoved a hand down Jyuushiro's hakama, seeking with his fingers what he couldn't see due to their tangled position. He encountered warm flesh, hard and willing, and curled his fingers. Gratified by the gasping, strangled noise that emerged from Jyuushiro's mouth. The older captain arched up against him, and Toushirou slammed his hips down, grinding against Jyuushiro's thigh.
Not enough, his body chanted at him. More, more, more.
A low noise of frustration fought its way out of Toushirou who found a bared nipple to be rather appealing. He lowered his head, laving his tongue across it before sucking on the pebbled flesh. Tenderly though, he retained enough senses to remember the books.
"Delicate flesh is delicate, be gentle" recited in the back of his mind.
Jyuushiro hissed, his hand clamping down on Toushirou's back, fingers digging in. More of his clothes vanished, though Toushirou couldn't remember stripping them himself. His fingers grew slicker as he stroked an erection, practically the only thing he didn't need a book to tell him how to do. He had too many years of practice.
There was a nice fire building inside his body, roaring through his veins, gathering in his belly and tightening his muscles. It rushed through him without taking chance for pause and roared through his ears. One hand slapped against the bed for balance as Toushirou ground down, his mouth falling on a bared collarbone, stark in the half-light of the room. It poured in from the hallway, the bedroom door wide open behind him.
Jyuushiro's skin was a mixture of salty-sweet – sweat and something else, he didn't know what. Or maybe that was his imagination. Toushirou didn't know. He just wanted, growing frustrated as he shook out his foot, trying to get rid of the garment still clinging there. And Jyuushiro still wore his hakama, one arm trapped by his haori. He was halfway bare and entirely alluring, but Toushirou wanted more.
He dragged his fingers from the depths of Jyuushiro's hakama – much to the other's groaned disappointment – and fumbled at the ties to his obi. The knot seemed ridiculously complicated, and Toushirou sucked in a stuttered breath, cursing quietly. He couldn't--
"Toushirou." A voice filtered through to his brain in the same moment a hand cupped his face, trying to gather his attention. "Toushirou!"
His name spoken sternly and in the kind of voice that he'd learned to obey. He stopped, took a breath, and gazed at Jyuushiro. Certain that an odd kind of wildness had entered his eyes.
He faltered, took an internal step back, and tried to recall the last few minutes. But they were a blur of sensation and feeling and want that his body wanted but his mind couldn't keep up with. Toushirou licked his lips, feeling guilty because Jyuushiro looked ravaged and they hadn't really done anything yet. Dark eyes remained gentle, a wanting heat banking behind them.
"Slowly" was all that Jyuushiro said.
And the word took several seconds to filter to Toushirou's lust-fogged brain. Slowly. Slow-down. Take it slower.
Right. He could do that. He nodded jerkily, forcing another breath though the heat raking through his limbs had not abated one iota.
"Sorry, I... I can do that," Toushirou promised and decided now that he had calmed down enough that he really wanted to touch Jyuushiro some more.
Slowly this time.
He leaned upwards and slanted his mouth over another, hands moving carefully as they detangled Jyuushiro's arm and undressed the both of them. The older man helped, and somehow, the slow slide of cloth over his sensitized skin was all the more erotic in the resulting quiet. Toushirou could hear his blood thumping in his ears, heart a noisy beat that surely Jyuushiro must have heard as well. But the other captain didn't say anything, merely deepened the kiss, tangling their tongues in a way that only an experienced man would know how to do. And Toushirou couldn't find it in him to be jealous. His benefit, their loss.
And then, it was the slow slide of their bare skin, one against the other. Jyuushiro's arousal nudged at his own, and Toushirou gasped, need coursing through him. He clutched the futon with one hand, the other buried in long white hair. His entire body trembled with the force of holding back. Everything he had read wanted to tumble down the drain. He didn't think he could last that long, not and get to everything.
But that was just the thing, wasn't it?
Toushirou didn't have to because Jyuushiro was here with him now and actually – hopefully – planned to be in the future, so there was opportunity here. He wasn't suffering from unrequited wants anymore.
That utter realization shot through him like a wildfire, though it didn't do a damn thing to dampen his rush to release. He supposed it was pure luck that Jyuushiro seemed to be in the same desperate state, his skin flushed an attractive shade.
Toushirou dragged his lips back to Jyuushiro's from where they had slanted aside, grasping desperately for breath. He rolled his hips, the older man's body rising to meet his. Hands emerged, arms locking around Toushirou as fingers clamped on his hips, forcing a knee-shaking grind that made pleasure pepper across his skin in rising shivers. A pleased rumble rattled through his chest, and Jyuushiro echoed the statement, bodies beginning a grinding dance that somehow synchronized without the judicious application of mental effort.
It started in Toushirou's belly, a clenching pull of pleasure, before it radiated to his other limbs. His ears drowned in the sounds of Jyuushiro's gasps, skin heated from the press of those artistic, talented fingers. It coiled within him like a spring, waiting to be released, and he moaned and shook with want. All ideas of making things last, of having some sort of romantic slide towards ecstasy were abandoned in the wake of just wanting.
Next time, Toushirou promised himself. Next time, he would definitely do better.
But it was finally so much that he couldn't hold himself back if he tried. Jyuushiro felt too good against him. Too right. Moving perfectly in all the right places and in all the right ways. Toushirou gasped, fingers gripping onto the comforter as the sensations overwhelmed him.
He shook, spilling himself between their moving bodies, pleasure spiking through him in rapid bursts. Toushirou panted, his face buried in Jyuushiro's throat, and he worked a hand free to worm it between their bodies. Jyuushiro's erection nudged against his groin, still hard and wanting, and Toushirou couldn't have that.
Jyuushiro breathed something, a mixture of word and sound, and Toushirou stroked his fingers over him. Dampness met his touch, slickening his motions, making Jyuushiro arch beneath him in a very erotic move. He mouthed a collarbone just because it was there in front of him and his tongue wanted to explore his pale skin very much. Fingers clamped down on his back, digging in. And Jyuushiro ground up against him, hips rocking desperately.
There was a sound that might have been Toushirou's name, but it was lost to a hungry moan as Jyuushiro came, spilling liquid warmth over his fingers and between them. Toushirou sought out lips, kissing heatedly, sloppily.
So, so good. He never thought it would be like this. Not even the books Kyouraku had given him could have prepared him for this.
Jyuushiro tangled a hand in Toushirou's hair, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Their frantic movements slowed, Toushirou leaning to the side so as not to cover the other man with his weight. He rather enjoyed the feel of their bodies pressed together, Jyuushiro's heat against his. Even more, he loved kissing.
They broke apart, their faces still rather close as if they shared the same breath. Toushirou felt strangely giddy. It took all he had to keep from showing the odd emotion on his face.
"What was that about holding back?" Jyuushiro murmured.
And Toushirou couldn't help it. He flushed a deep scarlet.
"I'm sorry," he apologized because maybe he had rushed a little too quickly and abandoned all sense of restraint. There went his idea of the epitome of patience.
Jyuushiro laughed softly, and once again, it was one of the greatest sounds in the world. "No need to apologize. I was teasing you."
Teasing was nice. Teasing was comfortable. Toushirou was glad that they could be here, lying together naked and sticky and teasing each other. He would much prefer that over awkward moments and silent what-have-I-dones?
Jyuushiro's hand settled on his back, stroking lightly. And Toushirou squirmed, a motion meant to be comforting that turned into a desire for something else. After all, it had been centuries for him – never for him if he were completely honest. And perhaps it had been centuries for Jyuushiro also, though he wasn't going to ask.
Fingers danced down his spine. "Perhaps I should be the one to apologize, for showing restraint where it was not needed."
"Don't apologize," Toushirou mumbled, arching into the soft touch, encouraging more. "Just don't stop."
Jyuushiro chuckled and lowered his head, his warm breath puffing across Toushirou's bare shoulder. Mischief danced in his dark eyes, tongue slipping from his lips to trace a nonsense path over Toushirou's skin. He shivered with want, rising arousal bumping against another. Breath washed over his skin, Jyuushiro's voice a low rumble.
"We have all night."
Toushirou groaned, waking to a brilliant sun that slanted directly into his eyes. He immediately rolled over to avoid the offensive brightness and encountered another body, along with a loss of feeling in one of his arms. Another person's breath puffed against his – bare – skin. And then, he remembered with a heated flush through him just what had happened the night before.
Jyuushiro seemed to be sleeping soundly, though his hair was a tangled mess beneath his head. And Toushirou felt an odd surge of happiness. A strange urge to grin like a loon attacked him, but he fought it back down. No need to go acting like an idiot after all.
He had a thought of closing his eyes and going back to sleep, cuddling up against Jyuushiro's warmth and letting it sway him for a few precious more hours. But he was wide awake now and full of energy. There would be no more resting for him.
Toushirou eased his arm free and sat up, rubbing a palm over his face to clear off lingering dregs of sleepiness. That was when he saw it. Sitting in the open doorway, a big pink bow decorating the whole thing. A rather large basket of woven wood that hadn't been there the night before, meaning someone had placed it there recently.
Eyes narrowing, Toushirou carefully extracted himself from a tangle of limbs and bedcovers and climbed off the futon. Jyuushiro didn't stir, except to shift a little.
All was well.
Stretching, Toushirou padded quietly over to the obvious gift, eying it critically. The giver had pinned a note to the outside, and Toushirou tore it off. He thought he might have recognized the design but was still too sleep-addled to put much thought into it.
He unfolded the paper, scanning the few lines of text.
"Congratulations!" the note began, and the general cheeriness that single, printed word emanated practically flew off the paper. "Here's a little gift from me to my favorite couple! Use them wisely and use them often!"
Toushirou didn't want to look, but he did because his curiosity was stronger than his fear. Holding his breath, he tugged one end of the ribbon and watched as it uncoiled itself, dropping to the floor. The cloth binding the top of the basket pooled down with it, revealing the contents in all their glory.
He had never been such a mixture of aroused and horrified in his entire life.
Most of the items he wouldn't have recognized if he hadn't done so much research. Others would require an instruction manual before he could even begin to figure out how to use them – if he even wanted to – and wasn't it lucky that Kyouraku tucked a bundle of manuals into the corner? He at least could identify the three massive bottles of personal lubricant as the label helpfully defined.
It suddenly occurred to Toushirou that Kyouraku had to have placed this himself and sometime in the last few hours in which Jyuushiro and Toushirou had been sprawled naked across the bed and each other. Which meant, by the time they roused themselves enough to shower, eat, and greet the day, all of Seireitei would know where they had been and what they had been doing.
A dark heat stole into his cheeks. That was the one danger of being attached to Jyuushiro, he supposed. One inevitably had to invite Kyouraku Shunsui into his life as well.
Cloth shifted, and Toushirou looked over his shoulder to see Jyuushiro waking, sleepily peeling open his eyes and stretching languidly. Somehow, just watching made Toushirou just want to crawl back onto bed – and Jyuushiro – and never leave either again. He thought of the basket of helpful and vaguely frightening supplies and wondered how many he would actually get to put to use.
"Good morning," Jyuushiro murmured with a light yawn, hair mussed and sticking in all directions and the impression of a pillow on his cheek. His eyes were dark. Sexy.
"Morning," Toushirou said and lifted a hand, showing him the folded piece of paper. "Kyouraku was here. He left something." It took great effort not to scowl in memory.
"Oh?" He watched as Jyuushiro sat up, sheets pooling around his waist and revealing the pale skin of his bared chest. With a few visible red markings that Toushirou could remember placing himself.
The younger male nodded, something stirring inside of him. "A basket." This time he really did scowl. "A basket with... things inside of it."
"I can imagine, knowing Shun," Jyuushiro stated and shook his head. "Anything useful?"
That did it. Toushirou blushed like a wild man, unable to admit that he had already considered a couple of the items. He turned, rooting through the basket and dragging up one of the jars of lubricant. It was one of the least embarrassing items.
Jyuushiro smiled slowly.
And Toushirou couldn't help but think briefly that Matsumoto was right. Nothing happened if he just sat around and waited for it. He had to reach out and grab it with both hands.
And Toushirou quickly walked back over to the bed.
a/n: Yes, this is the end. There may possibly be an additional oneshot or something if I get the muses going, but as for this ficlet series, it's definitely at the end. Though I'm pretty happy with it. The pairing was a definite challenge. Now if only I could find some awesome fanart to go with it...
Well, I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!