Behold, I Got Something Done!

[zeffyface]

Disclaimer: Bleach Rocks. Not mine.
Title: Unspoken Things Heard (Sequel to Shared Look in a Crowded Room)
Author: Zeffyface
Rating: Ehh… PG?
Pairings: Byakuya/Ulquiorra or vice versa.
Words: 2400
Cross-Posted: Soon-ish?
Dedicated: to Muse, who sent me the BEST B-DAY CARD EVER and then knocked me off my feet by throwing a surprise (and oh-so-yummy) fic in. I am stupidly spoiled. Hope you like dearie!
Notes: This is a SEQUEL, so it may not make sense without the first part.
I swear, this pairing just smacks me out of nowhere, when I’m politely minding my own business. Oh well, ‘tis fun. Please enjoy!


Unspoken Things Heard

The divisions were tired.

It was a subtle thing, forged from months of drifting on the edge of a war but neither side taking the plunge. Weeks of constantly looking over their shoulders, jumping at each new hollow appearance, and tensing at shadows had begun to show in the faces of the Shinigami. Eyes gained one extra crease, sword hands developed twitches.

For the most part, they held themselves together. They adapted, learning to bolster one another up as much as themselves. Relationships tightened; friends grew closer; camaraderie grew from rivalry. They had learned the value of trust, and could not afford to waste it again.

They learned who to break down in front of when it inevitably happened, who to let patch their minds back up to face the rest of the worlds.

They learned the importance of a moment, of a look, a simple touch. Of overlooked gestures, a flower, a hug, a flippant phrase at greeting or leaving. Realizing they were still alive, and that someone else knew it.

And so the divisions went on, breathed, played, laughed, worked. They were tired, but they pressed on, together shouldering the deafening calm before the storm.



Ulquiorra Schiffer slid open the door to his flat, glancing down in mild disapproval when the runner made a nearly inaudible scrape. Stepping inside out of the cooling air, he slowly slid the entrance shut, green eyes calculating in a blink as the night noises dampened. The grain scratched again, causing a brief mental debate: fixing the problem now, or putting it off for the better light of morning. It was a sound only the most trained ears would pick up, so although he preferred to enter his apartment silently to avoid attention, it would most likely do little harm. Certainly not for a single night, when he had no plans for leaving his home. And, he considered as he crouched down to run white fingers over the wood, such a thing had its benefits. The way it was, his rooms had gained an extra alert should someone skilled enough attempt to gain entrance.

In the dim light a ghost of a smile crossed the painted face, gone soon enough to be a trick of the moonlight. Although begun weeks ago, the game held between Ulquiorra and one Kuchiki Byakuya held strong. Admittedly, it had taken a different mood and method. The tiny porcelain cherry tree that started it all sat retired on the ex-espada’s desk, but neither player was willing to admit defeat, nor sacrifice the thrill of the chase. And so the odd cat-and-mouse continued, with the rest of Soul Society utterly oblivious.

It was not unusual for Ulquiorra to turn around, in his home or office, and suddenly find his lips captured by another, ghostly soft mouth. There would appear a flash of stormy gray eyes, a brush against his hip, arm, chest, a miniscule rustle of shifting silk. Enticing, tantalizing tastes that drove his arms to reach out without his consent in an attempt to pull the other closer.

But each time the touches vanished a moment too soon, leaving only a swish of a robe and a tingling feeling as evidence that another man had ever entered the building. And soon, usually before the day was out, he had returned the favor. It was a wonderful stroke of luck the afternoon they had discovered just how sensitive the stoic captain’s ears were - hearing the sharp inhale from Byakuya’s throat was well worth risking the quarter-second delay he spent listening before vanishing from the spot.

For each, the arrangement was a much-needed breath from the grim work that never seemed to ebb. The few times their encounters carried farther had made it strikingly clear that both parties desired more, but clearer still was the complete and utter lack of hours in the day to even try. And so they sustained one another while keeping themselves in check, and while Ulquiorra could not consider himself content with the arrangement, he recognized it as a much nicer alternative to nothing at all.



Standing from his crouch, the former Espada made the decision to leave his door until morning. Sandals were untied and left by the mat as he removed his Zanpakto, gently placing it in the hidden groove on the side table. It was on the way to the kitchen that he slowed to a halt, iridescent green eyes studying air in front of him. Something was...amiss. Not enough to set his senses on alert, just a tiny niggling in the base of his hollow hole that occurred when a small thing was out of place. Still standing precisely where he had stopped and having not so much as turned on a light, he waited for the feeling to either cease or provide more information.

He received his answer when the barest whisper of reiatsu brushed his, flickering and re-emerging in a slow, easy pattern. Oddly, his muscles did not react to the threat as they usually did – he had no impulse to defend against a possible attacker. Something in the skimming warmth struck a familiar, curious chord. Hands still relaxed in his pockets, he made his way towards the source, ending in the entranceway to his living room.

At first, his mind simply refused to comprehend what his vision told it. One black eyebrow lifted a millimeter, and instead of immediately creating a conclusion Ulquiorra found himself absorbing the scene in bits, processing them for the whole. His couch, simple and functional despite the fact that it was rarely used. The dip in the cushions, a spill of white fabric falling off the side. A sandaled foot on the floor, the other raised slightly from the ground. One long, black lock of hair falling over the side of the arm. Carefully, the view zoomed out to full focus, providing the long-sought after information.

Logically, such a sight should not have been so startling. But as he took in the sleeping form of Kuchiki Byakuya, Ulquiorra could not help his staring, re-examining the room again to make certain his senses were not playing tricks on him. From this distance he could hear the deep, gentle breaths accompanying the visible rise and fall of the fabric. Trusting his reiatsu to give away nothing, he crossed the room to stand directly in front of the couch.

Perhaps it was the dim lighting, but the noble face seemed thinner, paler, the closed eyes holding a hint of a shadow. He had folded his arms over the padded arm and rested his head on them; silky hair tussled from the position. In sleep, his mouth softened from its customary line, lips barely parted as his reaisu fluttered on each exhale. Absently, Ulquiorra wondered if there was a word in any language that would describe the captain at that moment. He severely doubted it.

Crouching down, Ulquiorra relaxed the tight control over his reiatsu just enough to create a sub current against the flow already in the air: an unthreatening signal to the subconscious mind that another person had entered the room. Startling a high ranking officer while they slept was never a wise decision, and usually ended in a great deal of pain and paperwork. He waited until he felt movement in the other’s reiatsu, shifting and weaving to accommodate his own, before he finally made a move to wake the sleeping man. “Kuchiki Taicho,” After a moment’s hesitation, he reached out, lightly touching the warm fingers that the gloves didn’t cover. “Byakuya…”

Black eyelashes fluttered, and a moment later a pair of grey-blue eyes fixed on his own, glinting from barely a foot away. They took one blink before the free-flowing energy retracted once more, the captain moving from laying down to standing and perfectly composed in one, fluid movement. Another would have missed the still-present shadows under the pools of slate, or the slight hesitation brought on by the awkward situation. “I… my apologies, I have rudely intruded.”

It occurred to Ulquiorra that by that statement the captain intended to take his leave, something he suddenly realized he would not have happen. Rising, he did the first thing he could think to deter the other without the use of force. He stepped forward until there were only inches between them and placed his hand on one bicep, feeling the warmth and strength of the muscles through the layers of fabric. “We have each intruded before; I did not ever consider it rude.” He left the minute flow of his energy unchecked, feeling it weave through the void Byakuya’s had left and knowing the other man would feel it. “You came for something?”

Steel blue met bottle green and held, a silent challenge passing between. It was an unspoken rule that the game they played remained just that – unspoken. Each played and read the other’s intuition so effortlessly that words were unneeded. The moments ticked by, Ulquiorra knowing very well that Byakuya would never be the first to look away, as he wondered how an eye could hold such a storm beneath it and be still as an untouched pool. It made no logical sense.

A feather-light touch of reiatsu brushed his own. “You did not retire from your office as you had scheduled.” Something akin to amusement tingled in the surrounding aura, but was gone too quickly to tell. Neither had kept viewable schedules in their homes or offices until a few months ago.

Ulquiorra nodded his assent, allowing his hand to drift farther up the clothed arm to the shoulder. “The twelfth requested my council unexpectedly – it took a good deal longer than it should have.” Mentally, he did the figures in his head. Byakuya had worked later today – most likely on the unyielding stream of reports, and so most likely would have appeared directly after work if his attire meant anything. That meant a half hour in between at most. He frowned mentally, and took advantage of the position of his hand to reach up and lift the ever-present locks from the other’s face.

Surprise flashed clearly in the other’s eyes, although it traded for curiosity after a moment. “What exactly-”

“You are tired.” Having seen his statement written clearly on the other’s face, Ulquiorra let his hand slide farther down to rest at the noble’s jaw.

The response was unexpected. The ghost of a smile glinted at him, and suddenly cool, slender fingers brushed his forehead, lifting his hair out of the way. They followed the edge of his mask downward, pausing to brush beneath his left eye. “As are you.”

His fingers had had little opportunity for slow wandering before, and Ulquiorra found the tips fascinated by the feel of the other’s skin, swirling light patterns down the smooth neck. “You came here anyway.” He felt his chin lift of its own accord to make the jaw beneath his mask more accessible to seeking fingers.

“And you stopped me from leaving.” The low murmur grew closer, and Ulquiorra wondered if the hand he had woven through Byakuya’s hair had been pulling forward without his knowledge. Either way, he could feel warmth against his skin with each word. “There worse things than lack of sleep.”

A hand cupped his jaw just as he fisted his into the silky black and all but yanked the noble’s lips to his. Byakuya responded in kind, weaving an arm to the small of the ex-espada’s back and pinning them together in a way just shy of violent as their attached mouths battled. Ulquiorra delved his tongue into willing warmth, tangling with another in the process. His spare hand found a sliver of skin at the captain’s collarbone and slid in to the top half of his uniform to discover more, pulling a soft moan from the other’s throat and groaning in kind when lips and teeth grazed around his tongue before sucking it in.

This, he decided, may be what drowning feels like, or perhaps breathing again for the first time afterwards. The kiss refused to slow, only growing more insistent as their noses grazed and mouths changed positions, until Ulquiorra finally had to wrench away and feed air to his aching lungs. A warm weight hit his right shoulder, and he felt panting breaths caress his neck as he slowly loosed his hold to run his fingers through the other’s hair. Unable to help himself, he turned and took the top of Byakuya’s ear between his teeth, feeling the barely-perceptible shudder travel though the other man’s body. Relenting, he released the ear and rested their heads together, working on trying to remember his own voice.

Unfortunately, a clear tinge of weariness slipped through the energy swirling about the room as a reminder of the previous conversation. A soft hum vibrated Ulquiorra’s neck. “You should sleep.”

“I should.” His hand slid from beneath the black fabric, but the other did not cease its slow strokes through the silky locks. “You should sleep properly.”

The bridge of a nose nudged his shoulder in bemusement. “Your couch is quite comfortable.”

“So it is.” Holding his reiatsu in check, he lifted his hand to the one on his jaw, pulling it away and holding it, then using the combined hands to coax the captain’s head from his shoulder. The arm around his back loosened, and he pulled away before meeting the other’s eyes, taking the captured hand with him.

As expected, the captain fell into easy step beside him, although the ex-espada knew it was grace and curiosity alone keeping him there. He chanced a glance over, playing his final piece and hoping the move was correct. “The bed is more comfortable for two. You have an early day tomorrow.”

An elegant black eyebrow lifted, and he wondered for half a moment if he should apologize before fingers weaved though his own and a flare of something warm circulated the air. It was only when his arm was tugged that Ulquiorra noticed the other had continued walking, and he took a quick stride to make the difference. Lips touched the skin below his ear, making his eyes flutter. “I can reschedule. Rest is important.”

Although no one would see, smiles danced about the room as they left.