The Senkaimon had opened so close to the shop that it would have been hard for Kisuke not to have noticed it. But that wasn’t what had caught his attention.
No, it was the faint reiatsu signature that emerged from it that had his characteristically lax posture straightening—a reiatsu signature that he was intimately familiar with, one that he knew as well as his own, one that he hadn’t felt in decades.
The spike in reiatsu was brief and almost impossible to feel before disappearing altogether as the Senkaimon closed. It was being suppressed so expertly that he only sensed it because he knew what to look for. In fact, Yoruichi only looked up from the cushion she was contentedly curled up on when she saw how tense he had become.
But after almost fifty years in the World of the Living, it had become second nature for him to try and identify who was emerging from the Senkaimon every time it opened—always hoping for one person in particular.
“Kisuke…?” Yoruichi began to ask, only to trail off when she noticed his small grin.
“I’m going to make some tea,” he announced cheerfully as he stood up, his eyes flashing from underneath the brim of his hat with a sincere happiness that Yoruichi so rarely saw. “We’re going to have a visitor.”
With his back turned to her as he made his way towards the kitchen, he was unable to see the curiosity—or at least as much curiosity as a cat could express—on Yoruichi’s face as she tried to discern what was behind her friend’s chipper mood. And then her eyes widened almost comically as it hit her.
‘How stupid could I be? ’ she thought, shooting off her cushion to scamper through the crack in the shoji to wait at the shop’s entrance. A Senkaimon, an absence of reiatsu emerging from it, and Kisuke’s suddenly bright demeanor—all of it meant one thing.
A silhouette appeared through the frosted glass of the shop front, illuminated by the waning rays of the late afternoon sun. The figure paused, standing still for a few minutes, before reaching out to slowly open the door. Once the door slid along its track far enough to reveal your figure, an involuntary purr left Yoruichi.
A momentary hint of surprise lit up your features at the sight of the black cat sitting practically in the doorway before settling into a warm expression.
“Ah, Yoruichi-san. You shouldn’t sit right in the way. Someone might trip over you,” you cautioned her, unable to keep the fondness from your voice.
“I trusted that your reflexes would be as sharp as ever,” Yoruichi teased, moving to rub herself against your leg and you easily took the hint to pick her up and cradle her in your arms.
“Coming from you, that’s the highest form of praise,” you smiled as you began to gently scratch her between her ears.
Yoruichi’s eyes fell shut happily at the sensation, her purr only growing louder. However, when she opened them again, they narrowed at the sight of the bandage wrapped around your hand and the scent of fresh blood coming from it.
“What’s this?” She pawed at the material and as you lifted your hand, she caught a worrying amount of red seeping through where the dressing covered your palm.
“This?” you asked disinterestedly. “It’s nothing. I’ll have Kisuke-san take care of it for me.”
At the mention of the man in the back, Yoruichi looked the textbook definition of the cat that got the cream.
“Kisuke-san ?” she asked slyly, mockingly emphasizing your use of honorific. “Who do you think you’re kidding?”
Yoruichi let out a startled cry as the hold you had on her gave way. She easily made sure to land on her feet and her displeasure at being intentionally dropped was set aside as she looked up at you with a Cheshire grin. You crossed your arms over your chest and raised an unamused eyebrow.
“I’d almost forgotten how impertinent you could be,” you grumbled and although Yoruichi’s resulting laugh was in a distinctively male tenor, it was really no different than the boisterous cackle of her human form.
“Kisuke-san is in the back,” she told you once her laughter had died away. “If I run into Tessai, I’ll tell him to give you a few hours of privacy before coming back.”
With that as her farewell, she walked between your legs—rubbing herself along your calf affectionately one last time as she did so—and out into the afternoon sunlight. You softly smiled as you watched her go.
“Or maybe I should just tell him he should find somewhere else to stay tonight if he actually wants to get some sleep!” Yoruichi called back to you before she could get too far and your smile was instantly replaced by a scowl. You tried to ignore the way you could feel your cheeks warming in embarrassment at her implication.
With one last flick of her tail, she disappeared from sight as she rounded the corner, leaving you alone. You noticed that your hand was shaking ever so slightly as you slid the door closed. Concealing your reiryoku had become second nature to you after so many years of training, but you could feel the way it was beginning to buzz with an almost desperate need that you were certain Kisuke could sense despite your best efforts to keep it hidden.
You were unable to feel Kisuke’s own reiatsu and figured it was due to whatever gigai he had managed to create. However, something about not being able to feel him even though Yoruichi had told you he was just further inside had a feeling of dread creeping up on you.
Maybe it was because there was a part of you that was afraid this was all some sort of cruel joke that fate was playing on you—that you would open the shoji and find the room empty, that all the years of planning would turn out to have been in vain, that this was all a dream and you would wake up back in Soul Society.
You looked down and saw that your hands had begun to shake more violently and you clasped them together tightly—ignoring the shooting pain that sprung from the large cut on your palm—and brought them to your lips as you took a deep, calming breath and willed yourself to calm down.
‘He’s here. He’s here. He’s here,’ you mentally repeated like a mantra until you began to feel your anxiety abate. Summoning every last ounce of courage you had left, you dropped your hands and moved further into the store. You quickly slipped off your waraji and stopped just in front of the door. ‘Kisuke is right here.’
With that last bit of encouragement, you gingerly slid open the shoji and froze at the sight of Kisuke casually sprawled out at a low table upon which two cups of steaming tea were waiting. The brim of the striped hat he was wearing cast a shadow that fell over his eyes while the lower half of his face was obscured by the fan he was wafting.
“[Name]-chan. It’s been quite awhile, hasn’t it?” he asked, his tone just as playful as ever. You were quiet for a long moment before the corners of your lips turned upwards in a gentle smile.
“Almost fifty years if I’m remembering right.” You were unable to help the impish nature of your answer and despite not being able to see most of his face, you could tell that Kisuke enjoyed it.
Your body seemed to move on its own as you closed the distance between the two of you until you were kneeling in a proper seiza across from him on the cushion Yoruichi had been using, if the cat hair on it was anything to go by. You took a moment to set aside your zanpakuto next to a cane that Kisuke had lying beside the table. You only had to look at it for a moment to know that it held Benihime.
The silence between the two of you continued to stretch on as you tried to decide where to begin. Kisuke appeared content to sit patiently until you were ready.
Seeing the steam rising from the tea that had been set out for you, you reached out to pick up the teacup, only to have your hand—the one that had been sloppily bandaged—intercepted halfway there by Kisuke’s. He brought it closer for inspection, causing you to lean forward a bit as he did so.
“Oh? What happened here?” he asked, setting down his fan onto the table so that he could examine your injury with both of his hands.
He began to carefully unwrap your hand, but his actions were something that you barely made note of. Instead, your attention had been captured by the half of his face that had now been revealed. You wondered if this was what it was like for someone dying of thirst in the desert to stumble upon an oasis. To have been on your own for decades, only to now be face-to-face with the man you had spent the past half a century longing for was like that first sip of water.
He looked scruffier than when you had last seen him all those years ago. You were relieved that his rather lackadaisical attitude looked like it fit well with the life of a shopkeeper, but you couldn’t say you were surprised. In fact, it honestly seemed to suit him better than the white haori he had worn as taicho. You wondered if he felt the same.
You were brought back to the present when you heard him clucking his tongue once he had fully stripped away the bandage on your hand. The cut was rather deep, deep enough that if someone didn’t heal it then it would need stitches. However, when you sliced open your hand, it wasn’t something you had been worried about. After all, both Kisuke and Tessai were kido masters.
“You’ve cut into the nerves,” he noted absently with a slight hint of displeasure as his hand glowed a soft green from where he was holding it over yours. You didn’t bother to ask how he knew the wound was self-inflicted. He then gave an exaggerated sigh. “Look at all the trouble you get into when I’m not around.”
“Me?” you asked innocently as you watched your skin slowly knit itself back together under his kido. “What about you? I’m gone for two weeks on a mission and come back to find that you’ve been exiled to the World of the Living. It appears I can’t leave you alone for even a second. ”
The playful tone of your words was a clear attempt at keeping him from inquiring any further about the events that had followed his absconsion. The last thing you wanted to do was to have a discussion about the accusations that had plagued you for years about how complicit you were in Kisuke’s crimes. There would be time for that later.
“Yes, I believe the charges were something along the lines of ‘experimenting methods of Hollowification on my fellow shinigami,’” he replied, following your cue and keeping his voice light. However, his following words held much more weight. “But you didn’t believe them?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
Your response was instantaneous. From the moment you had heard what had happened, every waking moment had been spent trying to figure out your next step. Five years of imprisonment had really given you the time you needed to plan, so maybe you should have been grateful to the Central 46.
Kisuke remained quiet as he finished healing your palm. Once the green glow of his hand faded away, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He gently began to wipe away the blood that had stained your skin. When he was finished, he put away his handkerchief and slowly ran his thumb over the once again unblemished skin.
“There. Good as new,” he announced happily. He then finally looked up at you so that while his eyes were still shadowed by his hat, you could at least now see them. He seemed unable to tear away his gaze from yours and you felt him unconsciously squeeze your hand in his before reluctantly letting go. “Your escape from Soul Society must have taken a lot out of you. You look tired.”
“What a mean thing to say to your lover after almost fifty years apart,” you pouted and the corner of Kisuke’s mouth twitched upwards. You looked him over appraisingly before turning to your tea in faux disinterest. “That hat makes you look foolish.”
He let out a pained cry as he clutched at his heart and you bit your bottom lip to keep from smiling at his dramatics. Instead, you picked up your cup and took a small sip of your tea.
“All that effort you’ve spent getting to the World of the Living, just to be able to insult me,” he mourned with a shake of his head.
“You used to be more deft at steering a conversation,” you said with a raised eyebrow as you gently set your tea back down.
“Me? Steering the conversation?” he asked in disbelief and you raised an eyebrow, unamused by his show of faux ignorance. He returned your gaze for a moment before tilting his head down so that the brim of his hat covered his eyes once more. A shrewd smirk played on his lips. “How did you get away?”
“The only punishment severe enough for those who would dare to betray the clan is death,” you repeated your clan’s guiding philosophy, which your parents and the clan elders had drilled into your head since you were young. You then gave a small, apathetic shrug. “So death is what I gave them. My death, to be specific.”
Kisuke’s smirk grew sharper.
“You faked your death,” he mused, his words lacking the surprise you had been hoping for.
“You knew,” you said with a small but petulant frown and he chuckled. “I thought that for once that I could pull one over on the ingenious Urahara Kisuke.”
“Maa, you give me too much credit,” he waved you off. “I just knew that your clan would never let you turn their back on them or Soul Society as long as you were still breathing.”
He paused and you could see the barest hint of tension in his posture as he turned serious once more.
“Will they believe it?” he asked.
‘Are you sure you thought through every last detail before making your move?’ is what he really meant to say, but he worried that doing so in such blunt terms would offend your intelligence.
“I played the long con,” you assured him. “I spent a decades laying the foundation—training to prove my strength, condemning you for your traitorous actions, swearing my loyalty to the Gotei 13 and my clan…”
You trailed off, glancing up at him through your lashes to see his reaction at your next words.
“...pathetically begging Aizen not to let your misdeeds color his opinion of me.”
You caught the way he stiffened. As meticulous as he was when it came to planning for every possible outcome, it seemed that even he hadn’t expected that.
“You figured out it was Aizen?” he asked impassively.
“I’m not an idiot, Kisuke,” you scoffed. “It didn’t take too much digging to find out that you had accused him of being the real culprit. And I couldn’t have him—or anyone else for that matter—thinking that I was going to avenge you. So I played the part of the part of the heartbroken and betrayed victim.”
Kisuke looked up at you again, his expression unreadable.
“And they bought it,” you said simply, taking another sip of your tea. You noticed that his own cup remained untouched. “Then it was just a matter of timing. A mission gone wrong, some blood left behind, and Hideaki as a convincing witness and the sole survivor.”
“Hideaki-san?” Kisuke cried, his jaw going slack in disbelief. You felt something resembling pride at having surprised him twice in such a short timespan. “Your drunk cousin was your accomplice?!”
“Give him a bit more credit. He is fourth seat, after all,” you chided, feeling defensive of your cousin—who honestly did tend to drink a bit much. Your expression turned soft as you looked down at your tea. “Hideaki is to me what Yoruichi-san is to you. You wouldn’t have been able to escape without her help and I wasn’t able to escape without his.”
Another silence settled over the room as Kisuke shielded his eyes from sight yet again. You fought the urge to frown in annoyance at this new habit of his.
“Besides, the instructions you left behind on how to open the Senkaimon needed two people.” Your tone was light once again and there was a teasing quality to it. “I’m honored that you believed in me enough to think that I would be able to master the kido required for something like that.”
You expected to receive another playful smile from Kisuke. If there was one thing the two of you had in common, it was your tendency to use both politeness and playfulness as a means of deflection. Instead, the look he gave you had a tenderness to it that had your heart beating just a little bit faster.
“Well, I was right, wasn’t I? You’re here.” He said it so simply—like it was an obvious conclusion to make that you would be able to open the Senkaimon on your own.
You could feel a sudden tightness in your chest at his unwavering faith in your ability. You had to clear your throat softly before speaking again and you found yourself unable to meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,” you said, your voice hoarse. “It’s just...you were so far away.”
You were uncomfortable feeling so fully on display, even if it was just in front of Kisuke. You heard his paper fan snap open and glanced up to see that he was using it to hide his expression. Apparently, whatever he was about to say made him feel just as vulnerable as you did.
“I’m sorry you were left on your own,” he replied. The sincerity in his words had you looking away once again.
“So were you,” you murmured and you noticed that your fingers were tightly clutching onto the fabric of your hakama at your thighs.
Kisuke was skilled at so many things, but the thing he took the most pride in was his ability to think through every possibility and know every possible outcome. He had known that there was a chance that he would be separated from you—it was why he had left you the instructions on how to escape to the World of the Living. But knowing that something might happen didn’t always prepare him for when it did.
After all, there were always things outside of his control and time was one of them. He had been unable to do anything about the years he spent waiting for you that had felt never-ending.
“Did you know that I would come?” you asked after another long silence and you looked back up at him when you heard his fan snap shut.
“No, but I hoped,” he said with a cheerful smile that you knew he was using to deflect from the serious turn your conversation had taken. You returned his smile with a softer one of your own. But his attempt to lighten the mood didn’t last long as he hid his eyes again.
“You weren’t afraid that coming here and leaving everything behind would be a mistake?” There was a note of tension in his voice that belied his easygoing appearance.
“Not once. This is where I want to be,” you answered with a simple shrug before a self-conscious look fell over your face and a light blush began to paint your cheeks. “If you’ll have me…”
You could see the effect your words had on him as tension seemed to drain from his shoulders.
“You’re giving up a lot. The things I couldn’t give you as taicho are even further out of reach now.” You could hear it in both his voice and his words—the insecurities he had always tried to hide about what you could possibly get out of being with him. “I’m just a humble shopkeeper. How can that be enough for you?”
You felt a sense of déjà vu as you heard his worry. It strongly resembled the same thing he had asked you when you had told him that the clan had decided that even the promotion to taicho wasn’t enough to have earned their approval of him as a satisfactory suitor.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t be better off with someone of equal standing?” he had asked at the time. “Someone your clan would allow you to openly be with?”
As the youngest of four, you had always been treated as an afterthought by your both your parents and the clan and thus afforded a modicum of leniency in your actions. Being fourth in the line of succession for clan head was just far enough removed to have the clan begrudgingly turn a blind eye towards your relationship to Kisuke—who despite being essentially fostered by the Shihoin and then a taicho of the Gotei 13 was still just a commoner.
The elders would rather have seen you stay unmarried forever—so long as who you spent your nights with was kept discreet—if the only spouse you would accept was someone outside of the nobility. And when the common lover of the clan head’s youngest child had been branded a criminal and a traitor, the elders had been furious over the dishonor you had brought upon them.
The arranged marriage they had recently begun to orchestrate for you—and that you had agreed to only in order to convince them of your loyalty—was the catalyst for putting the plan you had spent decades crafting into action. To spend the rest of your life with anyone other than Kisuke, no matter their wealth or stature, was unacceptable.
And so, with regards to the idea that you deserved someone better than him, there was only one answer—the same one you had given him over fifty years ago.
“I want to be here. With you,” you murmured, sliding a hand across the table to cover the back of his. “Everything else is just...a peripheral detail.”
And then the underlying tension that had been plaguing your entire conversation suddenly snapped. In a flash, you were on your back on the tatami mats and a pair of lips were hungrily on yours. You were faintly aware of the loud crash that had resulted from the table that had been between the two of you being overturned along with the sound of the china breaking.
But broken furniture and broken dishes didn’t matter. All that mattered was Kisuke’s weight on top of you and his tongue slipping past your lips. He propped himself up over you with one hand while cradling your face with the other. Your own hand slid up from where it was hooked around the back of his neck into his sandy hair, desperately tugging at the strands before you threw his stupid hat off to the side.
He chuckled into the kiss but stopped short when he felt your lips pulling away from his. He opened his eyes to look down at you curiously only to find you already looking back at him almost reverently. You brought up your fingers to gently trace his features, skimming along his cheeks, over his eyebrow, smoothing back the hair that had fallen forward, before you slowly ran a thumb over the skin underneath his eye.
He said your name softly, questioningly, and it seemed to snap you out of your reverie. You gave him the same, soft smile that he had been deprived of for decades before leaning back up to recapture his lips with yours. The kiss was slower but it soon gave way to the same heated and hurried pace as before; there would be time to savor each other later. Right now was about satiating that all-consuming hunger.
Sitting back slightly on his knees to free both of his hands, he began to tug at your clothes. You heard the material of your shihakusho tearing slightly in his haste to get it off.
‘Good,’ you thought in between fervent kisses as you began to help him, relishing the sound of the black garment ripping further. ‘Fuck the Gotei 13. Fuck the Seireitei. Fuck Soul Society.’
As all of this passed through your mind, your eagerness to be rid of your shihakusho was no longer just about removing the barriers between your skin and Kisuke’s. It was now also about shedding the last vestiges of those who had kept the two of you apart for so long. To be wearing the uniform of the Gotei 13 for even a second longer was just too much to bear.
And so you pushed on Kisuke’s shoulder until you were both sitting up, your lips still moving against his desperately as you shrugged off what remained of your shihakusho, Kisuke’s deft fingers easily sliding underneath the layers to help push them from your frame. Once your torso was bare to him, you leaned back down and pulled him back on top of you as his hands traced over familiar curves.
He palmed one of your breasts, groaning softly at the way it still seemed to fit perfectly in his hand. His thumb strummed over your nipple and your breath hitched. You could feel his smirk. He did it again.
The light fabric of his haori fluttered against your sides and you would have giggled if you weren’t too busy moaning from the way he pinched the small bud between his fingers and gave a gentle tug. With your head tossed back, Kisuke trailed his lips along your jaw and down to your exposed neck. The feeling of his stubble scratching against your skin sent a shiver down your spine.
One hand was fisted tightly in his hair, encouraging the attention he was lavishing on your neck, while the fingers of your other were clutching onto his haori. Suddenly, it wasn’t enough. What was fair about you being half-naked and him still fully clothed?
You tugged at the fabric, a pitiful whine coming from your throat, and you felt more than heard his chuckle. But he seemed to be in a merciful mood and quickly obliged you by shrugging off his haori and sitting up for just long enough to pull his shirt over his head before returning to suck at your neck.
Your own hands eagerly began to explore his back, running over the lean muscles and enjoying the way they undulated under your touch. Fuck, you had missed this.
Closing your eyes, you let yourself be carried away by the sensation of Kisuke so expertly working your body. It had been so long since you had felt like this—so alive. His fingers released your nipple to trail further down over your stomach as he skimmed your jawline with his nose, only to quickly replace it with his mouth.
His hand then slipped under your hakama and when he stroked his fingers along your slit over the fabric of your underwear, he also captured your lips with his to muffle your cry. He was smirking again, you could feel it in his kiss. You were growing wetter with every brush of his fingers over your clit and your whimpers became louder.
Unable and unwilling to let him drag this out by teasing you, you pushed his shoulders again until he was fully sitting back on his heels between your legs. You lifted yourself up to rest on your elbows and felt another wave of lust hit you at his shirtless body.
Your hand moved on its own as it came to his chest before you dragged your palm down—your nails leaving behind light pink trails in their wake—until it was resting just above his pants. You could see the way his abdomen twitched, alerting you to the effect your actions were having on him.
You couldn’t help but swipe your tongue across your bottom lip hungrily and it was just a step too far for him. His hands were instantly at the waistband of your hakama and he quickly tugged them and your underwear down in one smooth motion, aided when you lifted your hips up off the floor.
Your clothing was carelessly tossed to the side and you were laid out completely naked before him. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you panted with want. Your skin felt like it was itching uncomfortably wherever his eyes landed, a heat simmering just below the surface and driving you crazy.
Your breathing stuttered when he placed his hands on the backs of your knees. Spreading your legs further apart, he used his hold to push them up until they were only an inch or two away from touching your chest.
The look on his face as he took in the image before him was reminiscent of a hungry man sitting down for the finest three-course meal. Your cheeks began to turn pink when you saw that his attention was solely focused between your legs at your glistening center. His eyes then slowly moved up your figure until they reached yours.
A smirk appeared on his lips.
“You’re so wet for me. Just like I remember,” he said, his playful tone undermined by how rough his voice was with his own desire. Underneath the want in his eyes, you could faintly make out something softer.
But your annoyance at his teasing outweighed the warmth you felt at the tenderness in his eyes. You suddenly slapped away his hands and pushed him until he was sitting back and then climbed into his lap, straddling him. You rested your hands on his shoulders for purchase.
You were quick to grind your hips over the hardness you could feel beneath you and it was his turn to let out a low moan as his fingers gripped onto your hips tightly, encouraging the movement. As you basked in the pleasure on his features, your movements began to falter until they had ceased altogether.
Your eyesight had started to blur and you rapidly blinked your eyes in an effort to clear your vision. It was only when you felt Kisuke’s thumb wiping something away on your cheek that you realized you’d begun to cry.
The scorching heat that had been between the two of you began to die down as he peppered soft kisses along your cheeks until all that was left was an aching loneliness that would only be cured once he was inside of you.
Kisuke sensed it as well and leaned down to capture your nipple with his mouth. He gave a gentle suck and you turned to putty in his hands with a moan. You cupped the back of his head, urging on his actions and slowly rocked your hips again. He groaned around the swollen bud and your toes curled at the sensation.
Desperate to hear it again, you reached a hand down between your bodies until it slipped underneath his waistband so that you could wrap your fingers around his cock and give it a slow but firm stroke. You were rewarded with another choked groan. He released your nipple from his mouth, but your hand on the back of his head kept at at your breast and you could feel the heat from his breath as he lowly panted against your skin.
You couldn’t handle it anymore. It had been too long since the two of you had been intimate and you needed him now . Using the hold you had on his hair, you tilted his head back until he was looking at you, a question in those slate grey eyes of his. It quickly died away when he felt you release him from his pants and line him up at your entrance, which was warm, wet, and aching for him.
With slow movements, you began to sink down on him. You paused after every inch, allowing yourself to fully appreciate the sensation of being filled so fully by him. As tempting as it was to close your eyes and toss your head back at the pleasure, you made sure that your gaze didn’t waver from his once.
There was a need deep inside of you demanding that you looked into his eyes. You realized that it was because you were afraid that the moment you looked away from him, he would disappear right out from under you.
Once your hips were flush with his and he sat deeply and completely inside of you, you rested your forehead against his. You tried to erase any remaining space between your two bodies by letting go of his hair and wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer.
You released a shaky breath, impacted not only by having him buried to the hilt inside of you, but also because you missed this—missed him. When you felt the way his shoulders were slightly trembling beneath your arms, you slowly realized that as hard as your separation had been on you, it had been just as difficult for him.
It might even have been harder. While you had used the past fifty years to plot your escape and perfect your kido so that you could open the Senkaimon, Kisuke had been left on his own with nothing to do but wait. The mental image of him lying alone at night in a futon meant for two people was too much to bear.
Your eyes began to sting sharply as your vision became watery. A sob threatened to escape you and you quickly buried your face in his shoulder to hide your tears. His arms squeezed you tightly from where they were wrapped around your waist as he softly shushed you in between gentle kisses to your own shoulder.
“This isn’t a dream, right?” you quietly cried, your voice muffled against his skin. “This is real?”
Taking your face in his hands, he pulled you back until he could see you. He placed a slow, lingering kiss on your lips.
“This is real,” he reassured you gently with a soft and loving smile, brushing away your tears with his thumbs. “I’m here.”
As if needing to confirm that his words were true, you lifted yourself up onto your knees before slowly dropping back down, letting the feeling of his cock being nestled so deeply inside of you serve as the proof you needed that yes, this was real and so was he.
His hands dropped to your hips, helping to guide you in repeating the motion. You were more than happy to let him set the rhythm. Kisuke didn’t need any time to refamiliarize himself with your body; he already practically knew it better than you did. And his brilliance and aptitude for strategy were never better put to use than when he aiming to make you come as quickly as possible.
Your head fell back with a moan at a particularly well-placed thrust and he took advantage of your newly exposed neck by attaching his lips to a spot just underneath your jaw and giving it a harsh suck. You sharply gasped and buried your fingers in his hair tightly—a wordless plea to do it again.
“Kisuke,” you moaned and hearing his name spilling from your lips, your voice dripping with pleasure, seemed to spur him on. He purposely tilted your hips slightly in a way that both stimulated your clit and allowed him drag his cock over a sweet spot along your inner walls. “Kisuke!”
You could already feel it. You weren’t going to last much longer. It had been too long since the two of you had been together. And even without the five-decade long bout of celibacy serving as an extenuating circumstance, the way he was working your body like it was a finely-tuned instrument was quickly pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Your hips were moving against his desperately now, riding him hard. His groans vibrated along your neck and he had all but ceased sucking on your skin so that he could pant heavily. Your grip on him was growing tighter as your climax felt just within your reach.
Knowing how close you were, one of his hands let go of your hip and trailed up your side until he was cupping your breast. He leaned back in your hold, easily putting space between the two of you despite your best efforts to keep him pressed against you. You managed to give him a pout through your pleasure. But when you saw the look on his face, you couldn’t help but clench around him, unintentionally pulling a moan from him.
That cheeky, sly smirk was on his lips and fuck—you loved him so much. How had you survived for almost half a century without this?
The answer would have to wait because he suddenly trapped your nipple with his fingers and—making sure you were looking directly at him—he tugged on it at the same time as he ground against your clit and you saw stars.
You keened loudly as your orgasm hit you full-force. If you weren’t so wrapped up in the almost unbearable pleasure, you would have found yourself giving thanks to Yoruichi for making sure that you and Kisuke would have the privacy you needed; you never would have been able to face her or Tessai again if they had heard you.
Kisuke deeply moaned your name when your walls torturously spasmed around him. He continued to pound away into you and your eyes grew wet with tears yet again. But this time it was from the overstimulation he was providing you rather than any lingering sadness over your separation.
He let go of your nipple so that he could use both of his hands to cup your ass and keep you in place as he thrusted up into you. You could feel him on the verge of his climax just as yours was beginning to subside. You wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders to hold him close, enjoying the feeling of his heated chest against yours.
“Kisuke, please. Come for me,” you whispered into his ear. Your words along with the way you slowly rotated your hips caused him to let out a long groan as he slammed you down on him one last time so that he was buried fully inside of you when he stiffened under you as he came with a rush of wet heat.
His hips gave a few more rough jerks as a shudder ran down his spine. You allowed yourself to finally collapse against him, using his body to keep you upright. You rested your cheek on his shoulder and buried your face into the side of his neck, the shaggy strands of his hair tickling your face slightly. Your arms slipped underneath his so that you could gently hold onto the sweat-slick skin of his lower-back.
Your eyelids fluttered closed when you felt his fingers slowly running up and down your spine as your breathing began to return to a normal rhythm, his own soon coming to match yours. This was how things were supposed to be—the two of you wrapped up in each other’s arms.
“I missed you more than I dared to,” he murmured so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him. His fingers stopped their movements on your back so that he could wrap his arms around you and hold you close. “It’s never good to live in the past, but there were times, when it was all I could do—anything to not feel so…”
“Alone,” you finished for him and you tightly squeezed your eyes shut to preempt any tears that might form. You didn’t have to tell him that you understood how he felt. The Seireitei held so many memories that sometimes it felt as if fate was mocking you.
A silence fell across the small room. Eventually, he gently lifted you up just enough so that he could slip out of you and you sharply inhaled at the sensation. He then leaned back slightly, reaching for something behind him. You were too content to bother opening your eyes and see what he was doing.
After a moment, he returned to you and you felt soft cloth being draped across your back. You cracked open an eye and lifted your head slightly off his shoulder to see that he was wrapping you in his black haori to keep you from feeling a chill as your body cooled down.
It smelled just like him and you found yourself now being confronted by Kisuke from all directions in a way that had something catching in your throat.
“I’m here now,” you said, unable to help the way your voice cracked. “We’re together now.”
He was quiet.
“Can you forgive me?” he asked and you sat up fully so that you could face him.
You gently brushed the tuft of slightly sweaty hair that was always in his eyes out of the way, your fingers lingering as you softly smiled at him.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” you replied before closing the small gap between the two of you to place a sweet kiss to his lips. You then rested your cheek back on his shoulder. “I’ll need a gigai.”
“I already have one for you,” he assured you and you smiled at his foresight. “It’s upstairs in my room.”
Your smile fell and you pulled away from him to look at him suspiciously.
“You’ve been keeping a gigai of me in your bedroom?” you asked, your voice sharp with disapproval at all the trouble he could have been getting up to with it. When his cheeks turned a faint pink, your eyes narrowed.
“Maa, it was nothing like that,” he chucked self-consciously, rubbing the back of his head nervously as he put on a show of innocence that by now you knew better than to believe. “It’s just...I didn’t want the image I had of you to fade from my memory.”
Your suspicion disappeared as a warm, fuzzy feeling took its place. You buried your face in his neck and hugged him close. He rested his chin on the top of your head and you heard felt him sigh contentedly.
“You’re playing me,” you grumbled, aware that he had knowingly pulled on the right strings to melt away any misgivings you had, but unable to feel any real frustration at him doing so. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten your tricks.”
“Tricks? I’m just a humble shopkeeper. What tricks could I possibly have?” he replied harmlessly and you scoffed before biting back a smile. But you knew you hadn’t fooled him when you felt his chest rumble against yours with a quiet laugh.
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. But I’ll keep you—tricks and all,” you murmured happily, nuzzling further against his neck. He gave you another squeeze in response. “Although I’m sure you’ve picked up some new ones since we’ve been apart.”
“Well, we have all the time in the world to spend together. That should be sufficient for you to get the hang of them,” he teased.
“All the time in the world to spend together…” you repeated, savoring the notion, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I don’t think even that will be long enough to satisfy me.”