Title: Closet Games
Pairing: Renji & Byakuya (Ren/Bya & Bya/Ren)
Word Count: ~44,000 in total
Warnings: M/M explicit sex, angst, language, mild kink, toys, voyeurism, did I mention sex? There's lots of it.
Notes: This story is set in my world, Monoshizukanohi. There are minor references to Naruto characters as they exist in that world.
Life's good for Abarai Renji and gets better when he meets a mysterious man in a bookstore erotica aisle. But what starts out as a casual fling quickly turns into something more. Who is this man who refused to tell Renji his name? And what will Renji do now that he's fallen for him?
“Two pitchers on me, kids,” Renji called over Ikkaku’s raucous – and somewhat maniacal – laughter at something Kisuke said.
“Hell yeah they’re on you, Abarai!” Ichigo yelled back. “Lazy, disappearing bastard!”
Renji grinned and sat back down at the large, round table with his friends. Deathtoll – shortened to just “DT” usually – was a grimy bar owned by a scary fucker named Sphinx. Word had it that he was some sort of gang banger and dealt in shady deals and with the people who agreed to them. But he also ran a damned good bar with seriously hot staff and better-than-good music. There were over 100 beers on tap, and the garlic bread knot things were to die for.
“Told you,” Renji retorted, pouring himself a glass with the perfect amount of head. “Been busy.” He smirked.
“My ass,” Ichigo slurred.
No, usually mine, actually.
“When’s Rukia getting here?” Shuuhei asked. He and Renji exchanged a look, and the tattoo artist’s lips twitched. Shuuhei knew Renji’d been holed up with Byakuya for the last two weeks, and he knew some of the intimate details. Renji needed him to run Howl, after all, and Shuuhei’s price for the labor was details and a few websites to find some new toys.
“Soon,” Renji replied.
“And I trust all will be revealed once the lovely lady appears?” Kisuke asked. He smiled at Renji, eyes in the shadow of his wide, black hat. Bastard probably knew, too; he had one hell of an information network.
“You’d be right,” was all Renji said.
“This better be good, Abarai,” Yumichika – Yumi to his friends – said disdainfully, sipping at his wine. He didn’t drink beer. “We’ve been worried.”
Renji knew without clarification that “we” meant Yumi and Ikkaku.
“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed for showin’ up,” Renji replied vaguely. Shuuhei snorted and killed his second beer.
“Sorry we’re late,” said a semi-breathless voice. Renji turned in his chair to see Jyuushiro grab a chair and collapse into it, Shunsei right behind him to nudge the chair and his partner closer to the table. Jyuushiro looked flushed and immediately reached for an empty glass. Shunsei looked smug as he sat down with one hand on the back of Jyuushiro’s chair.
“Getting Shunsui anywhere on time is a challenge at best,” Kisuke quipped.
Jyuushiro smiled a little, pouring beer. He looked refined in his white shirt and dark jeans. Shunsui, true to form, looked like he’d snagged clothing off the laundry pile of a bad Hawaiian hotel. Yasutora would approve, Renji thought.
“This is true,” Jyuushiro commented. “Did we miss anything?”
“If you did, we all did,” Ikkaku muttered.
“We’re waiting on – “ Ichigo began but was interrupted when Rukia quite suddenly appeared between Ichigo and Kisuke, her hands slamming down on the table as she glared at Renji.
“Where the hell have you been?” the tiny woman growled. She wore a dark suit without a tie and looked ready to run Renji through with a spoon.
“Nice to see you, too,” Renji replied, grinning.
“Dammit, Renji! Do you have any idea…” Rukia paused. Then sighed. “Ichigo. Pour me a beer.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ichigo replied with a small smile and started filling a glass. Rukia walked around the table and bent slightly to hug Renji about the neck.
“You jerk,” she whispered in Renji’s ear. “I’ve been dying to talk to you. So much is going on…”
Rukia sounded upset, and Renji pulled her arms from around his shoulders and looked at her. “What’s wrong?” he asked, hoping it was nothing more than what he already knew.
Sitting down in a chair that Kisuke scooted to her, Rukia sighed. “Thanks,” she said, taking the glass full of amber liquid from Ichigo. “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know. It’s Uncle.”
The table grew quiet. Rukia rarely ever mentioned Byakuya, and Shuuhei threw a look at Renji. The redhead glanced at him and shook his head one.
“What about him?” Renji asked. He was pretty sure he knew; okay, make that damned sure he knew. And he felt a little guilty for being absent, but Byakuya was fucking persuasive with his, “Let’s stay in and fuck for a couple of weeks until I understand exactly what I like in bed, shall we?”
“He stepped down as CEO, then he all-but vanishes, which isn’t so unusual, but there’s rumors flying, the tabloids are having a field day, and I’m bloody getting calls from the higher-ups at Kuchiki Stone asking me what the hell’s wrong with Uncle.” She sighed and drained half her glass.
Jyuushiro leaned forward. “Rukia; that’s terrible.” He sounded genuinely concerned but Shunsui looked at Shuuhei who looked at Renji. Ichigo watched the looks fly around the table and frowned.
“Hey, what’s with all the -“ Ichigo started, but Kisuke leaned over and said something in the blond’s ear. Ichigo’s scowl deepened and he pulled back to look at Kisuke. “You’re shitting me,” he said softly.
“We missing something?” Ikkaku said quietly, leaning toward Yumi.
“Most likely,” Yumi replied. “But I suspect things will unfold shortly.”
“Huh?” Ikkaku retorted, turning to look at Yumi. Then he followed the lovely man’s gaze and his eyes widened as he saw an intensely attractive brunette walking with purpose toward the table.
“Aw, Rukia, I’m sorry,” Renji said, his back to the approaching man. Shunsui nudged Jyuushiro, who frowned and then looked at the interloper along with everyone else at the table save Rukia and Renji.
“It’s okay,” Rukia said. “It’s not like it’s your fault.”
“Oh, on the contrary,” Byakuya said as he stopped behind Ikkaku’s chair. “I fear he had much to do with the current situation.” Renji froze along with most of his friends.
“Kuchiki,” Kisuke said.
“Urahara,” Byakuya replied without looking at the man.
Rukia jumped to her feet. “Uncle?” she said, thoroughly shocked. “What are you doing here?”
“Dude,” Ichigo said to Renji with a shake of his head. “You’re so dead.”
“What?” Rukia asked, tearing away her gaze from Byakuya to look at Ichigo.
“I do foresee quite the beating in the future, yes,” Kisuke quipped, one hand covering his mouth.
“Oh dear,” Jyuushiro said, blinking as Shunsui pulled away from his ear. He shot a glance at Kisuke and sighed. “Kuchiki, it’s a pleasure to see you.”
“And you, Ukitake,” Byakuya said kindly as he made his way around the table to Renji.
Renji winced as he felt hands on the back of his chair. Rukia looked at her uncle and then at Renji, incomprehension forming new lines in her forehead.
“For the record?” Renji said contritely to his best friend. “This ‘surprise my niece’ thing was all his idea.”
“And I suppose that makes you the utterly blameless bystander?” Byakuya intoned, voice like silk as his hands slid into Renji’s hair. He had it loose tonight, and Renji let Byakuya turn his head to look up at him. Renji’s breath caught when he saw the tiny glasses perched across his lover’s nose.
Renji’s lips parted, and he sighed as Byakuya stroked Renji’s hair.
Rukia made a strangled noise.
“Holy fuck,” Ikkaku said.
“I’m sure there’s nothing ‘holy’ about it,” Yumi replied.
“Amen to that,” Shuuhei muttered.
“I’m going to kill you for keeping such a secret,” Jyuushiro said without looking at his lover.
“I rather enjoy your ‘killing’ sprees, Shiro,” Shunsui said softly, putting an arm around the white-haired man’s shoulders.
“Renji?” Rukia asked. “Uncle?” Her voice was an octave higher, and she blinked a few times.
“Having fun, yet?” Renji asked Byakuya. The brunette smiled, made a show of taking the glasses off and putting them in a pocket, and bent down, letting his hair spill over his shoulder. He wore a soft, dark shirt and gray slacks and looked typically godlike. The beadwork was intricate tonight, and Byakuya’s scent made Renji relax on reflex.
“More than I’ve had in years,” Byakuya replied. His eyes danced and he bent to kiss Renji’s mouth, and the redhead sighed into the chaste press of lips.
“Well,” Ichigo said, getting up. “I’m obviously gonna need something stronger than fuckin’ beer.”
“I suggest finding bandages while you’re at it,” Kisuke said helpfully.
“Rukia, breathe,” Shuuhei said.
But Rukia’d gone an extraordinary shade of red. She watched her uncle kiss her best friend for a long couple of seconds.
“I’m going to kill all of you,” she said with surprised but absolute certainty. “Slowly. Painfully. And I’m going to fucking enjoy it.”
“Have you noticed that our little group isn’t happy unless there are death threats going around?” Kisuke asked Shuuhei conversationally.
“Seems that way,” Shuuhei solemnly agreed.
Byakuya broke away from Renji’s mouth and smiled at the redhead.
“I knew you were trouble,” Renji said quietly.
“And do you like this trouble?” Byakuya asked with a quirk of an eyebrow.
“Nah. I fuckin’ love it.” Renji grinned.
The two men kissed again despite the loud groans from half the table, Rukia loudest among them. It took several pitchers, more than one round of shots, and enough detailed information to make Ichigo leave early, but at the end of the night, Byakuya was no longer merely the corporate, cold, distant uncle. And Renji became more than just a solid friend amidst the pack in which he often took the role of pretty, rough-and-tumble, playboy.
Now the two were together, remade into something stronger by being two halves of a whole, and Renji didn’t care if it was sappy or silly. And Byakuya didn’t care that certain members of family were pitching a stoic fit. The family that mattered coughed up her blessing with a sloppy kiss to both Renji and her uncle’s cheeks and another cry for tequila. Shunsui raised his shot glass and made a long, flowery toast to love and friendship, and they all drank heartily.
Renji leaned into Byakuya a little and thought that sitting next to one another surrounded by friends was just…right. It was simple, easy, and true. Renji felt the affirmation from head to heels, and he smiled at Byakuya, and the brunette returned the simple bit of affection.
It was a good night to be Renji. But then most nights were good ones to be Renji.
Because now Byakuya slept on his back with his arms wrapped around his lover, fingers tangled in Renji’s hair. And most nights Renji fell asleep thanking the Universe for bookstores, closets, and the new games he and Byakuya dearly loved to play.