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?
“I’m a fuckin’ jackass,” Renji muttered to himself.
“Beg pardon, sir?” the elevator attendant asked politely, turning his head to look curiously at Renji.
“Nothin’. Sorry.” Renji tried to smile. Next to Renji, a woman holding a pitiful excuse for a dog took a step away from the redhead.
“Not to worry, sir,” the man replied with a little nod of his cap. He turned around to face the front of the lift, and Renji collapsed back against the shiny mirrored wall of the Magnolia Hotel elevator. Renji knew of the hotel, of course – it made the news frequently for winning awards for excellence, pulling in obscene amounts of tourists, and for its reputation for catering to guests’ needs in any form or fashion.
That last bit often made Renji curious, but he’d never had the opportunity or reason to attend an event at the establishment or stay there as a guest.
Renji snorted a little and drummed his fingers on the gold bar running along the back of the elevator. It was probably assuming too much that he’d get to actually stay tonight after he and Byaku were…done. Booty calls rarely made it to the room service breakfast, after all.
Bloody fuck…why am I here, again?
Renji groaned; the woman made a disturbed noise; and the doors opened to let the bitch and her idiot dog off onto their floor. Renji wished them good riddance, and closed his eyes as the elevator doors silently slid shut.
For some reason, Renji was reminded of coffins…and jail cells.
After the tryst in the bookstore, Renji had tried – admirably, he felt – to just forget Byaku. He returned to Howl, punched Shuuhei when the dark-haired man gave him hell for taking such a long lunch, and then went about his routine. Renji worked, drank with his friends, celebrated his new eyewear line – which was selling faster than he could stock it – and jerked off in the shower while he tried in vain not to think about stormy gazes or silver beads or small glasses perched across a perfect nose.
Days went by and it wasn’t until Renji caught himself in the shampoo aisle of a drugstore sniffing bottles and trying to find one that matched a certain floral scent that he finally realized that forgetting Byaku wasn’t in the cards.
Apparently, Renji was doomed to dirty dreams and checking his phone entirely too often for messages. Not that he actually thought Byaku would call; not really. The guy was obviously well-off and probably high society, and the chances of some guy like that calling Renji back up just weren’t very high. Especially since it’d probably be hard to get away from the inept boyfriend Renji truly thought was in the picture.
But the part of Renji that was good at analyzing people still maintained that someone like Byaku wouldn’t demand a phone number without a reason.
…it was a small, tiny hope surrounded by walls of glaring reality.
Renji thought about telling his friends of his encounter with the pretty man but quickly rejected the idea. None of them would be surprised by his behavior, and Renji wasn’t worried about them lecturing him on bookstore etiquette. No, what silenced Renji was that as long as no one else knew about Byaku, the beautiful man was just Renji’s. The experience with him was a sweet dream that only played in the redhead’s mind, and while he realized all that sounded possessive and spoke of more than perhaps mere lust, Renji also didn’t give a damn.
Byaku was definitely worthy of a little obsession.
Two weeks after the bookstore blow job, Renji’s phone rang. It was late – past midnight – and Renji jumped two feet when the ringtone indicating an unknown caller screeched from under a couch cushion. Immediately thinking dark thoughts about friends in the hospital or jail, Renji answered.
Renji’s heart actually stutter-stopped at the sound of the cultured voice on the other end of the line before resuming its usual pattern.
“Indeed.” There was a pause and for the life of Renji he couldn’t think of anything to say. “Holy fuck I cannot believe you’re finally calling me what took you so long ya fuckin’ bastard” didn’t seem exactly appropriate or really cover everything.
“It’s late, and I apologize. Did I disturb you?”
“Naw, it’s fine,” Renji managed, sitting up on the couch and muting the TV. His heart was positively pounding, and he covered his chest with one palm. “You’re a nice surprise.”
“Am I?” Considering he and Byaku weren’t exactly on cozy speaking terms, Renji was proud of himself for recognizing the slight change in pitch as Byaku’s way of teasing him. Renji chuckled a little.
“Yeah. You left an impression.” And memory of said impression had Renji hard and biting the inside of his cheek in a combination of annoyance and excitement.
“Then another meeting would not be too presumptuous of me to request?”
“Hell no,” Renji half-growled. “Tell me when and where.”
Byaku told him, gave him instructions, and then hung up without even letting Renji work up a nice, “I’m sorry, the fuck did you just say?”
And considering some of the instructions, Renji really wished he’d been faster on the draw with some questions.
“Too late now,” Renji muttered. This time the attendant didn’t respond, and Renji grit his teeth to keep from any more nervous babbling. After a small eternity, the elevator stopped and the doors opened.
“Penthouse level, sir. Please allow me to hold the lift while you enter your access code.” The attendant bodily blocked the door and extended a gracious arm to indicate that Renji was to exit, walk to one of the four penthouse doors, and do his business. Wiping his hands on his jeans, Renji stepped into the reception area and swallowed. There was a mirror to Renji’s left, and he paused to look at himself with equal parts amazement and irritation.
Byaku’s requests were explicit, and Renji hoped to Christ he remembered all of them. And at the same time, he hoped he fucked at least one or two of them up just to be obstinate. Obeying to the letter wasn’t exactly Renji’s style.
But he remembered the bit about his hair –
“Wear your hair down, please.”
- and the shirt -
“If you have something black, wear that if you would.”
- and Renji stared at himself thinking Byaku was hot as hell but was he really worth all this nonsense?
And oh, if Shuuhei or Ichigo ever found out about this, he’d never hear the damned end of it…
“Sir?” the attendant asked. “Are you in need of any assistance?”
“Uh, no,” Renji said quickly, looking back at the elevator. He blushed. “I have the code. I just…”
Need a moment to kick myself for acting like a glorified call boy. Takes some getting’ used to, trust me.
“Oh, I see, sir.” The attendant smiled in a comforting and knowing sort of way. “Please take all the time you need to collect yourself. I’ll be right here should you need anything at all.”
“…thanks?” Renji tried, rather wishing the man would get bent. But he was probably required to stay, and he’d probably seen crazier things than Renji prepping himself to go into a penthouse suite. And if Renji spent much more time thinking about everything he’d done and not done to meet Byaku’s odd requests, he’d probably say a few choice words and forget the gray-eyed man.
Steeling himself with a silent promise that if things were too weird, he’d just bail, Renji stopped outside of door number three and smoothed his hands over his snug shirt. He checked his fly and then keyed in the code he’d written down and memorized just after Byaku’s phone call. The security lock’s light flashed green and the door clicked open automatically. Renji put a hand out to catch it, pausing again.
“Very good, sir,” the attendant said. He sounded like he needed pom poms and a GO, RENJI GO! sign to wave. “Enjoy your stay at the Magnolia, and, of course, contact your personal staff member for anything you should require.”
Renji didn’t say anything or look back as the elevator doors closed. Instead, he silently cursed and ordered his pulse to slow down and his cock to stop twitching in giddy anticipation.
Nothing for it but to see what happens…
Pushing open the door on its silent hinges, Renji stepped into the penthouse suite. He was immediately relieved when he found the room quiet. The redhead was further relieved when, after taking a few steps into the entryway, he could see no whips, chains, or possibly large men in leather hoods lurking in the corners.
Not that Renji really expected to walk into a den of bad techno and torture racks, but what Byaku had said and asked -
“If it’s not too much of a burden, please refrain from masturbating for 48 hours before we see one another. Also, do you have any allergies or problems with leather?”
- still made Renji a little weak around the knees. A little light bondage or a nipple clamp here or there was fine…but shit, Renji didn’t know Byaku from some bad chat room frequenter named Daddygivesyoupainbitch666.
“Hello?” Renji called. He turned and hastily pulled off his shoes and socks before continuing his cautious entrance. The penthouse was lovely, large, and had a distinct Asian theme. The central room was set up like a living area with what Renji assumed to be antique furniture facing a stone fire place. Above the mantel was a massive piece of art depicting sakura trees in full bloom; nice, Renji thought.
Against a support wall to Renji’s far right was a kitchen of sorts; more a massive wet bar than a place to fix meals. However, covering the dark countertop was an assortment of carefully prepared and artistically arranged food. Fruit, brie, crackers…that sort of thing. Two lit candles flanked the trays, and an unopened bottle of what Renji knew to be expensive champagne sat near the food.
To some maybe that little setup would look romantic, and for a second Renji was tempted to roll his eyes. Then he saw a plate with a tiny pool of sauce as the only indicator of use. Quickly and with intuition Renji took for granted, he envisioned Byaku ordering food for himself and to offer Renji. He’d be specific and polite and while Renji could see Byaku drinking good scotch or maybe just water, champagne just didn’t jive. Nah; that had to be the hotel’s idea. And when the food arrived and a staff member set it all up, Byaku probably barely registered the expensive gift. It was just another perk that went along with being someone who stayed in such extravagant places.
Somehow, that scenario made a lot more sense to Renji than Byaku planning some sort of romantic seduction scene. Just the thought made Renji smirk a little to himself.
Tearing his eyes away from Byaku’s makeshift dinner, Renji spied a hallway with a closet door on one side and another, wide, wooden door at the end. The latter was slightly ajar, and Renji assumed it led into the master suite. To Renji’s left was another bedroom, on the small side, and a door that Renji bet led to a bathroom.
The entire back side of the suite was comprised of windows overlooking a balcony, and the sliding glass door was open. A breeze ruffled the curtains and Renji was about to call out again when Byaku stepped inside and quietly slid the glass closed behind him.
Blinking rapidly, Renji stood stunned for a second or two by his hosts’ sheer presence: regal, undeniable, formal. Renji swallowed and let his eyes rove over Byaku’s body. He wore a pale gray, silk kimono that managed to make him look relaxed and, Renji admitted, insanely sexy. His hair was loose and a little wind-blown, and he regarded the redhead with a cool, assessing gaze as he walked to the middle of the living room.
“Ren,” Byaku said quietly, and all thoughts of being a fool for dressing and appearing the way Byaku asked him to fled from Renji’s mind. Byaku wasn’t looking at Renji – he was drinking him in. True to his word, Renji’d actually done a little reading on body language, and the tilt of Byaku’s head and the slight thrust of his pelvis told Renji that Byaku definitely liked what he saw. When Byaku reached up and touched his left arm with his right hand before crossing his arms, Renji smirked.
“Hey,” Renji said, taking a step or two closer. Desire flooded Renji and suddenly he couldn’t remember why in the hell he’d ever considered not knocking or coming. Byaku in person put memory to shame.
“So good of you to join me,” Byaku said. His eyes flicked over Renji’s hair, black shirt, jeans, and bare feet before coming up to meet Renji’s eyes again. “And thank you for your consideration of my taste.”
“No problem,” Renji said, coming closer still. So what if he felt like some sort of lapboy? He was at the fucking Magnolia in a penthouse suite with a man who might seriously be able to strike people dead with lust just by standing in a grocery line.
…and Renji paused to have a nice mental chuckle at the image of Byaku buying toilet paper.
“Do you have something for me?” Byaku asked.
For a second, Renji didn’t know what Byaku was talking about. Something for…“Oh!” he said as understanding dawned. “Sure.”
Renji yanked a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket and stepped close enough to hand over the document.
“Clean bill of health with medical seal,” Renji said while Byaku’s eyes glanced over the paperwork. It’d been easy to obtain; Renji might fuck in closets but he liked to think he played his games safely.
“Thank you,” Byaku said simply, handing the paper back to Renji.
“Don’t suppose you’ll return the favor?” Renji asked.
Byaku smiled a little and gestured to an antique phone sitting on a table between two chairs. “Dial the number on the pad by the phone. You’ll reach my private physician who will tell you what you need to know should you desire it.”
Renji blinked. Then laughed. “A doctor’s note would’ve worked.”
Byaku’s expression changed by a degree or two, and Renji thought he looked…smug. Vaguely wicked. “True. But I rather keep my identity to merely, ‘Byaku’ for now, Abarai Renji.”
Renji’s mouth fell open.
Sneaky little bastard…
“Shit,” Renji groused. Bastard was good, he’d give him that. “That hardly seems fair.”
“My apologies.” Byaku clasped his hands behind his back.
“Who are you that you’re so worried ‘bout me knowing your name?”
Byaku looked away, expression growing neutral and distant again. “If you came here for answers, I fear you will be disappointed. I wish for your company but not your curiosity, Ren.” Gray eyes slid sideways to look at the redhead. “If that is unsatisfactory, then you may take your leave.”
Make that imperious sneaky little bastard. Jesus.
Renji rolled his eyes before boldly walking over to Byaku and putting his hands on the smaller man’s arms. Byaku looked shocked, and Renji grinned at him. “If the name game matters, we’ll play it,” Renji said. Moving his hands slowly, he wrapped his fingers and then arms loosely around Byaku’s waist and leaned down to breathe in the brunette’s scent.
Flowers…he really smells like fuckin’ flowers…
“Just don’t be startled when my credit history turns up with a shitty score,” Renji teased, lips catching in Byaku’s hair. He clasped his hands at Byaku’s lower back and pulled him closer. Byaku let Renji move him, but his hands came up to rest on Renji’s upper arms, holding their bodies slightly apart.
“Why would I care to know your credit history?” Byaku mused, and Renji was pleased beyond measure to hear a tiny hint of breathlessness in that cool voice.
Renji chuckled and pushed back dark strands of incredibly soft hair with his nose and mouth. He dropped a kiss to the top of Byaku’s ear. “Please,” Renji said derisively. “I know your type. You trust people about as easily as a whale walks on land.” Renji shrugged and was proud of himself for being able to talk like this when all he wanted was to shove Byaku onto the couch and kiss him until his lips bled.
“I see,” Byaku said softly. “I am that transparent to you?”
Renji kissed Byaku’s earlobe. “I just know your kind is all,” Renji said, somewhat reassuringly. He breathed deeply, arms tightening their hold. “God you smell so fucking good…”
Byaku made a startled noise and then gently but firmly pushed Renji backward with a surprising show of strength and restraint. Renji made an unhappy sound and looked curiously at Byaku.
“Did you do all that I asked, Ren?” Byaku’s eyes studied Renji intently.
Renji smirked. “If you’re askin’ if I’ve touched my dick in two days, the answer’s, ‘No.’” And I’d dearly love to fix that, Renji added to himself.
Byaku’s expression changed at the admission, and Renji struggled to identify what he saw: satisfaction, maybe?
“So what,” Renji asked, a little caution creeping up his spine and making his words rougher. “You get off on people obeying your little commands?”
Renji expected a frown and a reprimand and instead got a small smile and a slight eyebrow twitch. “I have people obeying me all day, Ren. If I got off merely on such a simple thing, I fear I’d be incapacitated before lunch.”
“Then what the hell?” Renji asked, arms crossing.
Byaku tilted his head down, not meeting Renji’s gaze. It seemed more out of respect than supplication, and Renji marveled that this man never seemed to rattle.
“I hoped you would…continue to humor me tonight,” Byaku said quietly.
“Depends,” Renji said honestly. “I don’t do pain of any variety.” Renji’s voice was firm. “I had enough of that shit growing up, and I don’t take it from anybody. I don’t care how good he smells.”
Byaku looked stricken and then amused, started to say something and then stopped. Renji watched and waited impatiently until Byaku shook his head.
“No, that’s not what I had in mind.”
Byaku met Renji’s gaze with a cool stare. “I would like to bind you – wrists, if you will allow me – and use my hands and mouth to learn your body and give you pleasure.” Byaku tilted his head. “Does that appeal to you?”
All things considered, Renji was proud that the only noise that actually escaped his mouth was a tiny grunt that could be construed as contemplation, really. He didn’t pant, despite the pulse that now hammered in his ears, and he didn’t jerk despite his cock going from dozing to rigidly and somewhat painfully awake.
“I think I could handle that, yeah,” Renji replied evenly.
Byaku held up a slim finger. “One rule.”
“And that is…?”
“You must tell me any and all times you are close to orgasm.” Byaku’s voice was calm like pond water and he looked as serious as a funeral. Renji swallowed nerves and heat.
Because honestly if Byaku kept saying things like “give you pleasure” and “orgasm” Renji felt he might be able to get off just standing in the damned living room. He had no idea how horny he truly was until faced with Byaku in a fancy silk robe talking about doing things with his hands and mouth to Renji’s body.
Fuck me it’s hot in here…
“Agreed,” Renji husked, nodding.
Byaku’s shoulders seemed to relax a fraction of an inch, and he flashed a truly genuine smile at the redhead. It was hands-down the most beautiful thing Renji’d ever seen. So pretty, in fact, that he completely missed what that mouth said next as his brain got a little lost in the teeth and lips of the whole experience.
“What?” Renji asked, blush tinting his cheeks.
Amused, Byaku’s head tilted again to one side. “I said, ‘Take off your clothes.’” The brunette stood looking faintly curious with his arms casually crossed and bare feet sinking into the thick carpet.
Now Renji grinned. Pretty man wanted a show? Then a show he would get.
Touching one's upper arm while in the presence of date/someone interested in usually indicates sexual thoughts/interests.
The Magnolia Hotel was featured in Breaking Point, Naru/Sasu BDSM fanfiction set in this same world. Found here (link on sidebar), on Y!Gal & Aff.net.