Good morning, Kahewai! :D As promised, it's here to welcome you into the day. Sixth Division is ready to wake up too, quite eloquently if I do say so myself.

I still don't own Bleach.


When the sun rose in Soul Society, Renji was blinking his sleep-heavy eyes and reaching a long arm out to stretch his rested muscles. The movement started with his smooth shoulder, groaning up to lift the lean arm into the air. The round biceps and triceps that followed extended to glimmer in the orange sunrise, almost shimmering with potential of strength.

Black edges of his tattoo rippled with each steady motion, dancing with energy for the coming day. The back of his head rested on a white pillow, and the shock of red hair was spread out like a wicked crimson glow around his serene face. His brown eyes were slowly opening, and the elbow popped in surprise as it stuck straight.

Tan forearm slid into the distance and turned on its side when Renji twisted his arm slowly back and forth. A slender, but elastic wrist introduced his foggy gaze to his veined hand, occasionally flashing him with calloused palm and fingers.

The hand was reaching toward the ceiling, where the night before he had stood on his bed and written a morning message for himself. Each thick black stroke from his brush resembled roughly the ones on the appendage reaching out to them. Renji fisted his rough hand, eyeing the veins on his forearm and across the back of his hand, and curved his arm into a stiff right angle.

Holding it tight, he felt a warm surge of reiatsu shift through his skin to the knuckles quickly turning white. But when he relaxed, the energy returned to his waking body, and he softened his fist. The gentle hand fell onto his strong chest, over his heart. He felt something wet, and lifted the hand to examine the finger. It was dyed black at the very tip, where he had poked the wet ink. The fukutaichou must have drifted to sleep right below the last brushstroke before it was finished drying, and now a single drop from the kanji resided on his flesh.

'Good morning,' he thought quietly, looking at the name he had written on the stark white ceiling. 'Byakuya.'

Only in the private recesses of his mind did he dare to refer to his taichou so informally.


Byakuya was already awake when the sun decided to peek between his windows. He sat, back straight and face utterly tranquil, tracing his finger over the edges of his teacup. The steam was filled with the scent of mint leaves and honey, with a hint of assorted herbs. His thin hands were kept warm by the heat emanating from the tiny dish, and his eyes glossed over the garden for the tenth time since his awakening. Blue and grey stones still sat where they had the times before, and leaned against each other in a nearly picturesque manner.

But now, in the bright sunrise, they glowed with new shades of slate and sky blue. The tip of one stone was emerging from the center pond, drawn toward its terrestrial cousins. Thin lotus leaves floated lightly on the sparkling water, which was now lucid in the morning light. The softest shades of pink faded into a gradient white as the petals of the flowers tapered as they curved into round fragrant cups.

The night before had been spent late at the office with Renji. Ready to get a head-start on cleaning, they had been inspecting every inch of the division barracks for damage. Hours had been carefully used up to the finest of assessments until both Byakuya and his loyal fukutaichou were convinced they had finished the job.

The taller of the two had bid a slightly-exhausted farewell, with a tired smile and wave of the hands before the gentle bow and turn of the shoulder. Sooner than the taichou had wanted, the warrior was headed home.

His pale thumb slid across the rim of the cup where his lips had perched just moments before, and his mouth still held onto the taste of the warm tea. The feeling sitting in his heart right now wasn't loneliness, nor was it curiosity. The Kuchiki was aware of what was happening to his brain and his heart. With every minute of every day, he was becoming more attached to the passionate red-head.

His dark grey eyes roamed over the fence outside the garden, where it stopped the peaceful view of the pink and purple clouds. They shone with a bright aura, and seemed to rub sides affectionately before sluggishly dragging themselves across the morning sky.

Byakuya knew it would happen sooner or later the moment he met his newest fukutaichou. The loud reiatsu that challenged his own, although foolishly, had tickled his interest. He set the cup down on the table he was seated at, and slid his arms down his silky robe to the wooden floor. The tailbone was the first to slide against the floor, and the rest of his back followed suit. Soon enough, his black hair was pressed between his head and the bamboo floor. Dark eyes focused on nothing in particular on the ceiling before the eyelids that held them slid shut.

A flash of red entered his inner thoughts, and a cocky smile hopped its way across his mind. Then, a miracle. A whole, tan form appeared. Crouched in a fundoshi and hand firmly secured around the handle of Zabimaru, it glared menacingly at something beyond Byakuya's vision. Sweat was starting to form on the flesh, and heavy breaths shook the body. The other hand was firmly on the ground, balancing the tired figure. Excited brown eyes flickered to meet his, and the panting mouth closed to smirk softly at him. One of the eyes winked.

His eyes popped open, and he looked down at his hands that were rested on his stomach. Their pale digits were tangled in the belt of the thin kimono, and a thin layer of moisture was forming on their palms. Detaching one of the hands to press against his forehead, a low grown of agony came from deep inside his chest. It was too late to ignore his urges. He needed to let it run its course. Soon, it would end and he wouldn't have to deal with these feelings any longer.


"Good morning taichou!"

"Taichou, good morning."

"Morning, Kuchiki-taichou!"

Voice after voice greeted the solemn black-haired man, who floated down the hallway of his barracks to the main office with his eyes shut in concentration. He nodded at each member who addressed him, recognizing them as those who belonged to his division. There was a very complicated puzzle he had begun to piece together in his head, and only a few more pieces were needed to complete the picture.

He opened the door to his office, almost relieved to find it empty, and stepped inside softly before padding his way to the large desk. The chair that welcomed his form bent to meet his body's needs, as it did every morning. The noble shifted uncomfortably at first, feeling something digging into his back. He twisted, trying to find another sitting position to take, but unable to settle. There was a small packet of papers sitting right in front of him, and he flipped the first page to begin reading.

It took nearly five pages of dull reading before the door slid open with a happy click. A familiar spirit entered the room, and suddenly Byakuya forgot about his crooked chair. He looked up at the red-head, who calmly set two folders down on his own desk before moving around to sit. Renji's eyes were closed peacefully, and he turned the corners of his desk with a single, smooth movement. Once seated, he bowed his head in the direction of his taichou and opened his eyes. Those focused irises met his own dark ones, and the voice he had anticipated plucked down a piece in his mental puzzle.

"Good morning, Kuchiki-taichou," the red-head said, offering a thin smile before facing his work and picking up his brush. The tiny, white fibers soaked up a wave of ink and pressed against the thick paper as the fukutaichou went through a single sheet. The fingers that were wrapped around the wooden handle used their callouses to hold it in place.

Byakuya could only imagine what those fingers would feel like on his skin, if they ever made it that far before things got too close to the line between bending and breaking the rules.

"Good morning, Abarai-fukutaichou," something was off in his voice, though. He knew he sounded impatient. The black-haired man couldn't help but let it leak into his tone a bit. He needed this silly affair to begin and end seamlessly and as soon as possible. Why not have the whole thing go down today? If Renji had noticed, he didn't make it obvious, so Byakuya returned to his work.

But with the completion to his heart's latest puzzle, its newest toy, sitting so close, he couldn't focus correctly. The clack of the wooden handle of the brush lifted brown eyes to look at his standing taichou. Their gazes didn't meet, and Byakuya pushed his chair back to stand elegantly. With a few normal footsteps, he could have reached the fukutaichou's desk in little more than five seconds. Instead, he flash-stepped to Renji's side, staring down at the slightly confused man.

Now looking into each other's emotions, the taller man could see the desire swelling up inside the Kuchiki. It was an odd emotion to see, especially for his normally stoic taichou. Stranger still, using flash-step to go someplace as general as his desk.

It only got stranger for Renji as Byakuya kneeled over him, planting both knees on either side of his waist. Two pale hands were strangling where his jaw met his earlobes, and their lips clashed together.

Both sets of eyes slid closed as the raven-haired man sat down on the warrior's knees, pressing deeply into the lips of the startled tattooed man. His eyebrows knit, the red-head had no choice but to kiss back with more energy, and their lips slid over one another like two hot sticks forming a fire.

A slick, pink tongue poked in between his lips gently, and Byakuya complied by parting his lips slowly, moistening them simultaneously. The same tongue poked his own, which responded by touching hotly inside the mouth of the fukutaichou. He felt the inside of the smooth enamel of tooth and soft flesh of the gums. Renji tasted like berry jam, a sweet contrast to his natural tea flavor.

The rough hands he had been thinking about earlier had encircled his waist, holding him very close to the seated man. The finger tips had pushed back the white captain's haori and were gripping feverishly at the black fabric below. In seconds, a pale hand had slid upward into the explosion of hair and released it from its tie, sending it cascading into his grip. He tugged the hot face closer, kissing deeper and deeper. Only milliseconds were spent catching breaths between each open-mouth kiss, not letting any of the emotion coming from the wet contact escape.

Slender, white fingers had braided themselves in the long, straight scarlet locks, feeling each silky strand as their chests rubbed against each other. The Kuchiki was soaking it all up, enjoying every last drop of the attention he was receiving. He shuddered when the redhead moaned, almost making a noise himself. Thick black eyelashes vibrated as his eyes danced with stars.

Renji dared to pull away, eyes barely open as the hot pants between them escalated when he let one hand travel to the front of his taichou's robe. His digits fiddled with the layers of cloth keeping them from the ultimate contact. Pushing the fabric over the pale shoulder, his wet lips laid steamy kisses from the cheek down to the neck before him. His slick teeth grazed over the sculpted collarbone, and his tongue danced out to taste the skin on the shoulder of his superior.

The rough hand slid lower, playing with the sensitive stomach skin before kneading a thumb between each rib. Calloused pads of his pointer and middle finger drove their way around to slide down the pale spine. They circled around the tailbone before slicing their way back up to between the etched shoulder blades. His other hand met it there, pressing the center of Byakuya's chest into his face. He inhaled sharply, taking in the scent of the noble's sweat. Under his cheek, the heart was fluttering like a trapped bird. Every so often, it would skip a beat dangerously and continue pounding away.

Soon enough, a long tongue graced its way between the pectorals he had previously been enjoying up to the sternum and right clavicle. The slippery contact brought a sharp tug on his hair, but he was hardly feeling it anymore as the ecstasy threatened to fill him.

The friction of their smooth tongues meeting again was enough to make up Byakuya's mind. He split away from his completion, his happiness, and kissed the sharp, tan chin. His hands had unwoven themselves from the fiery mess, and had tugged the robes away from the entire top of his fukutaichou. Thick, dark lines stood out against the smooth skin and stunning muscle below it, moving in wicked ways up and down the body. Delicate fingers traced the jagged chest tattoos, and Renji hummed in delight when the slightest brush over his ribs was initiated.

The dark, deep eyes looked into his once more when the hands smoothed over his abs and back up to his incredibly broad shoulders. The taichou drummed his fingers softly, looking into the brown depths that were brimming with want. He knew his own orbs mirrored these, and were showing his own level of aching.

"Kuchiki-taichou," the deep voice clicked in another piece of the puzzle, and the licorice-locked man noticed there was only one piece left before the image was complete. Even without that piece, he could easily see what the picture was going to be.

"Yes, Abarai?" It almost came out as less than formal when he rested the side of his head on the tan shoulder, wrapping both arms tightly around the strong midsection of his fukutaichou. Sinewy arms were crushing him with their longing touch, bringing them yet again very close to each other.

"You don't value this nearly as much as I do," Renji said, cupping one shoulder tenderly and swishing slowly on the swivel chair. It was almost a question, and something inside his calming heart told the taichou that it wasn't true.

"Maybe," he began, and felt the man below him tense in misery. "We'll have to see after next time."

Renji turned to look Byakuya in the eye, and the noble pulled away to give him a blank stare.

"Until then, let's get back to work."

The redhead's grin stuck the last piece of the puzzle into the image in his mind: a large ocean of black and the tiniest, red heart beginning to beat again.


Good morning, ByaRen fangirls and fanboys. Hope this refreshed your dream-heavy minds and prepared them for the day ahead. Also: Check out the poll on my profile, ne? C: I need more voters to get an idea of what people like nowadays.