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Two things happened on Rengoku’s birthday interchangeably. Either he had a day full of demon slaying or was at one of Uzui’s raving birthday parties planned just for him. Tons of booze, probably imported from somewhere Rengoku didn’t want to know, fun red party hats with pretty glittery flames at him. The thought brought a smile to his face.
However, this year, it seemed that the common grounds of the Hashira and the Insect Estate were particularly quiet, too. It made him feel a little uneasy not to have something going on for the day. And when no hog tying or blindfold or little party hat string had been forced upon him, Rengoku realized Uzui wasn’t around either. The thought of checking with Shinobu on what may be going on crossed his mind.
She was in her office, as suspected. Scribbling in her files like she did when annoyed. Shinobu was almost always annoyed. “Knock, knock,” he said, leaning against the door frame, a little scared to go any closer in fear he might be in range to receive a pen to the jugular.
“What do you want, Rengoku?” She asked, pinching her thin, glossy lips in a smile and turning her head at him slowly. He cleared his throat and stood straight almost immediately.
“Uh, well,” suddenly, everything he wanted to ask or say felt rather silly. It always did. “I was wondering where Uzui was, or uhm, if any last-minute missions had come in for me, maybe? You’re always so informed, Shinobu. That's something I admire about you!” He returned her smile cheerfully. Even if his hands were beginning to clam up. Fighting a demon? Piece of cake. Fighting an upper-rank demon? Well, that he couldn’t quite place, but believed it to be easy, too. Please Gods. Forgive me for bothering Shinobu.
She stood wordlessly with her lips pursed and brows pinched in more annoyance. “As when you checked bright and early this morning, Rengoku, I still have nothing for you. And before you ask, Uzui is away on a mission. If you’d like to be helpful, I could surely use some help around the estate. Reports, running papers. You still are due for a shot--”
But he was already backing away from the door and hustling down the hall, somewhere between “nothing" and “Uzui’s away”. It burned, absolutely killing him to not have anything to do today.
He thought of the possibility of traveling home and seeing Senjuro and his father, but that sounded more like a nightmare. He’d make it up to Senjuro over the weekend, like he did every other year.
Just not today. He dreaded seeing his family home today, his father most of all. And would just prefer for one year to be celebrated instead of chastised. Is that so bad to wish for?
It also wasn’t that he needed to have some extravagant party or needed presents and happy birthdays. Uzui had let it become an expectation of sorts. Those birthdays were supposed to mean something rather than a checkpoint saying look, Mom, I’ve lived another year.
Soon, about midday, Rengoku found Himejima and his young pupil training on one of the secluded training grounds. Rengoku struggled to remember his name for a minute too, finding it hard since Shinazugawa never liked talking about his brother much.
“Ah, Himejima, young Shinazugawa boy. How’s the training going?” He asked, watching Genya swivel his meaty, focused head in his direction. Himejima turned his watery gaze in Rengoku’s general direction.
“Oh, Rengoku, what a pleasure. No missions today?” He asked with his palms pressed together in a never-ending, unspoken prayer. He respected that devout lifestyle. Always wondered if, in the end, Himejima would be rewarded for how selflessly loyal he lived.
If all that extra time spent in constant prayer was rewarded when it came down to the end of a blade getting pointed back at them. He truly hoped so.
Rengoku laughed loudly and boisterously, the sound light in his chest. “No, not today, very unusual. I feel unsure of what I should do with myself today.” All three stood in a comfortable silence for a moment. Genya was still looking at him from the corner of his eye, and Himejima slowly blinked like he was in thought.
“Maybe you could see your family. Time is short in our world, you know. So make the most of all the extra time you have.” Not like he hadn’t thought about that. It felt like unfortunate karma, especially coming from Himejima-- it must’ve been a cursed sign.
Even though only one of the men staring at him could see, Rengoku felt like he was just being judged. That they were both seeing his bones and bruises-- all the little, petty specs of dust lining his cape and the edges of his shoes. Could see his slight eye twitch at his lying in agreement, knowing he wouldn’t see his family.
Again, airily, his lungs expelled sound to fill the uncomfortable nausea that boiled low inside him. “I think you might be right. It’s not often we Hashira get personal time.” Thankfully, because the hard truth he didn’t want to admit was that he didn’t want to see his family.
And every year, it burned him a little more for choosing to be with friends over them. But it was a duty, a privilege to be the son of a great Flame Hashira, which he tried to grimly remind himself of often. Although he didn’t think that it was going to make him feel better, now. At least, he had drowned every year before in kisses from Uzui and booze. It seemed this year he would need to find his alcoholic resources.
Although, he couldn’t resist a good pampering first. Uzui always got him a sweet little gift paper during the winter holidays, for one. Now was the perfect excuse to use it. So, instead of taking Himejima’s advice, Rengoku decided to relax for a while. Get a good cleaning on his cape, and try to get his hair fluffed and washed in a nice little shop in the next town.
Just what I needed on my day off, he thought after wishing the salon ladies a good afternoon. But it was more like evening by the time he was leaving. As if to add salt to the wound, Rengoku’s first thought was to show off to Uzui. To show him the nice curls at the ends of his fiery red hair.
His hand gripped the doorway, knuckles digging into the hardwood. It splintered just a little into his ring finger, reminding him of the empty band not snugly wrapped around his finger. That was the price for being a Hashira: eternal loneliness. Something Rengoku never entirely could feel comfortable with.
He’d always naturally been drifting towards people since the beginning. And out of the corner of his eye, Rengoku could see a young man stumbling out from around the corner of the salon. He dragged his hand from the door and inhaled the crisp air of the late evening. The sun had already set, which means the bars were finally open.
It was time for a drink.
After getting the nice young man home safe, then directing himself to a bar popular for the Hashira, Rengoku contemplated walking inside for several minutes. His feet were warm from all the pacing around, and the dirt scuffed his nicely shined shoes.
Finally, he’d worked up the courage to slide the paper doors open and enter. It was rather pretty inside, some closed-off rooms and some open floor seating for non-private groups and regulars. Rengoku pondered where to sit when his eyes scanned an almost empty private room.
The door slid almost half shut, but he caught the tingly feeling of someone staring at him and couldn’t resist peering over.
Within the first private room was none other than fellow Hashira, Tomioka Giyuu. Rengoku swallowed his surprise and cleared his throat uncomfortably. Giyuu was unblinking with inky dark blue eyes as if he was saying Why are you here? You shouldn’t be here.
There was the faintest pink dust across his cheeks, and a cup of sake raised in his hand like he was mid-raised to drink before seeing Rengoku. Two other empty cups sat on the table in front of him, as well as an entire bottle, Rengoku noted. Guess he gave up on modesty. Props to the guy.
A patron lightly bumped Rengoku on the shoulder as he passed with a group of other half-drunk men. The spell between them was broken. He feared that if he rubbed his eyes and looked away, Giyuu would disappear, and it would be like this never happened. But when he turned back around, Giyuu’s cup was empty, and he was patting the seat next to him, averting his eyes.
Neither said a word as Rengoku slid into the room and closed the door almost completely as the bar got more rowdy outside. He decided to sit across from Giyuu as a used cup was placed in front of him. One drink. One drink was all he would have.
A million questions flew through his mind all at once. Why are you here? Do you come here often? Why this bar? Do you often drink alone? Did you know it was my birthday? Gods Kyojuro, what are you thinking?
He wasn’t sure why it mattered if Giyuu knew it was his birthday or not. Or why he was in the bar in the first place. In any bar, on top of that. The Hashira came here often to celebrate, although Giyuu had never frequented those get-togethers either.
They had never really spoken before, after all. And he certainly didn’t consider them friends. Not as if Rengoku didn’t want them to be friends, he just didn’t think Giyuu did.
Gods, why do I care? Why did he care? At least this was a quiet birthday. A relaxing one. No, this doesn’t feel like a birthday. This feels like a day off. He wasn’t sure why that mattered, either.
When Rengoku looked up from his cup, unbeknownst that he had even been silently staring at it, Giyuu was staring at him with those stupid glassy blue eyes. They always looked just on the verge of something. Sometimes, Rengoku just wanted to ask him why. On the verge of tears? Anger? Violence? To say something? To yearn for something?
Giyuu tapped his cup to the table and then tilted it to Rengoku as if saying, “Your turn.” So he clinked his cup against the table and then against Giyuu’s cup before following his lead and downing the drink like a shot. Which Rengoku had only done at his or another Hashira’s birthday party. Never at bar gatherings. What would the master think?
Giyuu poured him another drink before he had a chance to say no. No, sorry, I can’t, I really must go. Big plans and all. It's my birthday, you know? Busy busy busy. He didn’t say any of that, however. He just watched Giyuu watch him in utter silence.
Rengoku’s shoulders didn't tense up, though, like they usually did when he felt scrutinized. His hands didn’t clam up, either. This didn’t feel like when he was with Himejima, and he felt silently judged (sometimes openly while playing cards), or like Shinobu, where he was openly judged.
Not like with Uzui, where he couldn’t judge because they were equally stupid with one another. Or Shinazugawa and Iguro, because they were just judgmental, and all the time judgment held no weight, equal to Uzui’s.
It was surprisingly comfortable. A little warm, he assumed from spring turning into summer, how crowded the bar was outside their little room, and the alcohol. By his third drink, Rengoku shrugged his cape off and brushed his hair behind his broad shoulders. A motion Giyuu tracked, he noticed.
Wordlessly, Giyuu stood up and gracefully dipped from the room with the empty bottle. Rengoku blinked, grasping his cup between his thick hands. Did he leave? Finished the bottle and just left me? I kind of crashed tonight.
But just when he was about to get up, a cool hand clamped down on his warm shoulder and pushed him down. It was gentle and firm. When he looked up, Giyuu had returned with a full bottle and that look in his eyes again. Stay, it said so clearly. For the first time in probably ever, Rengoku understood what those beautiful blue eyes were saying. He looked pretty. So pretty, it made Rengoku jerk into a firm nod. This seemed to appease Giyuu into taking a seat right next to him.
Rengoku felt his face warm. He was never shy of advances.
Not that he was familiar with any, especially from men. Giyuu’s hair was nearly falling out of his ponytail. It was messy, but didn’t look unkempt. Dark and slick like oil, but it made him all the more beautiful. How much have you had to drink, Kyojuro?
“Kyojuro?”
Ohhhhh fuckkkkk, that voice was deep and butter smooth. The realization made it even more embarrassing for what he’d done. Pulling Giyuu’s hair out of its ponytail. Touching his fucking hair. When had he done that? And he was positive Giyuu had just called him Kyojuro. That was the first thing he’d spoken all night. Maybe it was the alcohol or his imagination, but Rengoku swears Giyuu had just said his given name.
His hair looked so nice out of the ponytail. Somehow, without constraints, it looked less wild, falling behind his shoulders and dipping around his pale cheeks. Rengoku couldn’t recall a time before now that he’d seen it like this.
They shared the second half of an entire bottle, the length of Giyuu’s forearm. And from first appearances, Giyuu had drunk the first half. He offered the same cup to Kyojuro without him even noticing.
Giyuu put his cup to his pretty, paper-thin lips before quietly shooting the entire thing. Rengoku fumbled the cup from Giyuu before downing it too. He felt dizzy and way too warm. A party was blasting outside in the main area of the bar, just out of his reach. And he couldn’t be happier that Giyuu was a hermit than now. This private bonding moment was certainly needed. When Giyuu poured him another drink, Rengoku figured they were going to ignore that he’d nonconsensually pulled Giyuu’s hair out of its loose ponytail and that he’d used Rengoku’s given name. At least that saved him some embarrassment.
Rengoku thought that by now, he must have been drunk. The room wasn’t exactly spinning, but it was getting hard to count how many drinks he’d had. And it slightly weirded him out that Giyuu allowed his hand to rest over the ends of his hair on his back. He’d focused for as long as just staring at his warm hand, touching that pretty, very weird haori.
“Kyojuro,” came more sternly this time. It definitely had to be his imagination.
Rengoku jumped noticeably, finding Giyuu’s eyes, only to find him leaning in between them. Before he could think, their lips were touching, and alcohol was getting pushed past his lips. He was so sure he made a noise somewhere between a moan and a grunt.
Suddenly, everything was dark, and Rengoku realized he’d closed his eyes. His hand made its way into that luscious midnight hair and gripped it possessively, although right now, through the haze, he couldn’t figure out why he felt the need to act like that.
Giyuu grunted into his mouth and tilted his head. It brought their mouths together more closely. Rengoku stiffened until cool hands were rubbing gently up his biceps and gliding past his shoulders.
They politely moved away from his hair to cup Rengoku by his cheeks. He noticed. Oh, gods, Giyuu noticed my hair. It made his heart rush to his stomach. And another question popped into his mind on why getting noticed by Giyuu Tomioka made him hard?
Giyuu kissed like he had experience. Rengoku’s evidence? Probably the way they felt, they were eating each other's faces, and he wasn’t losing his breath. And the way it made his lips messy with spit, but not so sloppy that it made him feel like a whore.
Although to be whored by Giyuu didn’t sound all that bad. He was gentle and firm, like he was with everything. His hands held Rengoku’s jaw, and his fingers were so long they splayed down to his neck. His head moved where Giyuu directed it with no question.
And Rengoku began to get rather comfortable in the routine until he felt Giyuu move-- no, no--grind himself onto Rengoku’s thigh. He was so close to straddling Rengoku that he thought he might yell.
Rengoku’s other hand finally found itself useful when it snaked around Giyuu’s waist to help him grind into Rengoku. This earned a pleasant moan from Giyuu. Which made Rengoku do it again, and again, and again, just to hear him pleasantly breathe.
Giyuu etched his hands from Rengoku’s face and gripped his chest. They separated from kissing and decided to breathe into one another's mouths again. I’m kissing a boy, Rengoku thought, as if he was just realizing for the first time. Oh, shit, I’m kissing Giyuu, was the next thought.
Forget having a family or trying for love outside of work; relations within, while they aren’t expressly disallowed, are frowned upon. Often messy. Of course, Uzui managed three strong, beautiful, terrifying women. But that-- that was Uzui. And he could barely handle seeing his own family on his birthday.
He tried to think of something cool to say, something suave to seem hot. It was hard to think of a line when Giyuu’s hands were working their way to unbutton his shirt. And his lips burned with fresh kisses. Cool air rushed to his chest, which made him sigh back into Giyuu’s mouth.
This kiss was slower, more sensual. Slightly distracted on Giyuu’s part, thanks to his wandering hands. Although, Rengoku didn’t mind much. His hands were nice and cool, just as they always were. It almost made him self-conscious to think Giyuu wasn’t nearly as bothered as he was. But when Rengoku tightened his hand around the back of Giyuu’s neck, that garnered a quiet moan. So quiet, Rengoku’s heart nearly stopped beating to hear it.
Again, Giyuu’s moan went into his mouth. Rengoku swore he was dreaming.
His hand clenched and pulled, feeling Giyuu’s dark hair strain under his fingers. Whatever you say is what he hoped to convey. A sweet groan escaped Giyuu’s pretty lips, tremors wracking his body. It was almost as if Rengoku was viewing their situation outside his body. The way his hand did as commanded, pulled Giyuu’s head in for a kiss. It was clear who was really in charge, even as he was pushing Giyuu down with his body and knocking those pale legs away from one another.
They were nearly the same height. Rengoku just barely could see over the top of Giyuu’s head on a gloomy day. But with those strong, trained legs wrapping around his waist as they owned him. And with those calloused hands sliding across his chest to pop more buttons, Rengoku thought they fit together quite nicely. He let his hands roam down Giyuu’s waist, earning a grind up into him. They sloppily broke apart.
Giyuu tore his shirt off with poised vigor. Although his lips were straight, the line in his brow and the blush on his cheeks betrayed the clearness in his eyes. Strip, his eyes said, show me how handsome you are, Kyojuro. If he wasn’t so drunk and horny, he might’ve cared they were doing this in a bar they both have a reputation in.
His hands worked to undo Giyuu’s pants, feeling something hiding within his pockets. When Rengoku pulled back to sit against his calves, out came a little bottle of oil. Giyuu averted his gaze, and didn't allow any glimpses into what that could mean. But Rengoku wasn’t stupid.
When Rengoku sharply grabbed Giyuu’s chin to make him look back over, he couldn’t stop the look on his face, Slut much? There was a cruel smile edging the ends of his lips, but inside, he was screaming at himself for doing something so blatantly forward to someone he didn’t know very well. Giyuu opened his legs more in response. His feet planted on the floor to give Rengoku all the momentum to pull his pants clean off. Shit. Shit, he might be a slut.
Wordlessly, Rengoku snaked his tan hands up Giyuu’s clothed legs before pulling in one quick motion. And god, he’d gotten prettier. Tall, muscular, pale legs looked like well-made porcelain. The kind he’d see in his grandma’s favorite cabinet that she only brought out for special occasions. Finely made, although not delicate enough that she ever kept them out of reach. Just important enough to showcase to everyone, she thought twice about it, too.
Rengoku’s mouth watered at the sight of the pretty cock between Giyuu’s legs as well. It was longer than it was thick. Slender, most like Giyuu. He couldn’t stop himself from having a taste. Last minute, he glanced at Giyuu, who let his eyes wander, but made no effort to hide his face again. So he’s not shy, just embarrassed for being called out. Cute. Although those watery eyes looked back a little too late. Rengoku had already licked the head into his mouth and relished in the slightly salty pre that melted against his tongue. Although it sat in his mouth, heavy inside him, Rengoku began to feel anxious at his lack of experience. He was always quick to go in headfirst.
Hands gently cupped his cheeks, the tips of long, slender fingers just barely brushed into his hair as if asking for permission.
Rengoku swallowed more length.
Giyuu cursed, although Rengoku couldn’t hear it through the blood rushing in his ears. His hips shifted below Rengoku, cooling himself down. Control came from the soft strokes currently running through Rengoku’s hair. I’ll guide you, his eyes said. And he could hear that sultry voice within his head, echoing it. His head was guided in slow, steady motions up and down. Each time, he inched more length into Rengoku’s waiting mouth. His eyes fluttered closed, allowing him to focus more clearly. Feeling, hearing, yearning.
Almost by accident, he pressed his tongue against the underside of Giyuu’s cock and lapped the underside while hollowing his cheeks to create better pressure. He knew that during the night, when everything was quiet, and he got a moment of pleasure that the best part was the pressure. Giyuu reacted with stuttering hips-- making him brave for a longer length. But he was growing impatiently hard within his pants and couldn’t justify multitasking if that meant leaving attention from Giyuu. So, with little resistance, he raised his head and gulped in fresh air. Rengoku panted, whined a little, and bucked his hips against Giyuu.
That earned his legs snaking back up to rub against Rengoku’s hips before locking around him and creating another thrust. Deft hands worked to pull Rengoku’s pants down enough to get his cock out. “Dammn,” Giyuu mumbled with unblinking blue eyes. It made Rengoku laugh at how astonished he was. After all, he’d never thought twice about the appearance of his dick. It might've been almost the same length as Giyuu’s but nearly twice as thick.
“Mmhm?” He cocked his head to the side, feeling his hair feather back over his shoulders. Giyuu swallowed dryly before wringing a hand around him and tugging. Rengoku groaned and popped the cap off the oil bottle. It was chilly, although the heat of his skin melted the impoliteness away quickly. Equally enthusiastically, Giyuu worked him up and down until he was panting and rutting his hips forward. There was an obvious difference just by the way Giyuu flicked his wrist, tenderly squeezed his tip, and cupped his balls in those cool hands that made Rengoku almost a little jealous of who could've shared such knowledge with his co-worker.
Rengoku whined while pushing Giyuu’s hand away when he nearly came. No more. No, no, if he’d done that, then their night might be over, and his birthday was just getting good. Giyuu watched, pleased with the little cocky upturned corner of his lip, making Rengoku want to fuck it off. Wanted to spit his revenge in Giyuu’s mouth. Kyojuro, focus, you freak.
Discreetly, he poured some more oil into his hand and let his fingers drift against the inside of Giyuu’s tender thigh, which garnered a gasp. They both looked down, Rengoku noticing some light indentations there. Scars? Knicks? From a lover? That made Rengoku smile internally. Cool, I'm part of something with Giyuu.
Giyuu suddenly gripped his forearm, which made Rengoku jump. Gentle, his eyes spoke. Be gentle with me, Kyojuro. So he obeyed and slowly teased his middle finger in. Giyuu was warmer than he could imagine, but the low rumble of his moan only served to egg him on. Getting another knuckle in was easy. He soothed Giyuu’s hip and kissed him sweetly on the mouth when the other tried to bite back his noises by actually biting himself.
It was tender. More tender than imaginable. Almost intimate, aside from that, sex itself was intimate-- at least to Rengoku. There wasn’t anything mechanical about the way he patted Giyuu’s thigh or licked his tongue into the other's mouth to silence his appreciative moans.
I’ve got you, he almost said before Giyuu grasped his bicep and dug his blunt fingers into tan skin because Rengoku found that sweet spot inside of him. One that made those pretty, deep blue eyes flutter. He saw the effort in trying to keep them open, truly. It was a valiant fight until they snapped shut. Rengoku smiled while traveling further with his kisses. Down the expansion of Giyuu’s jaw, to his neck, and the junction by his collarbone. That was a nice piece of skin to suckle on. Felt nearly carved from stone. Pointed but strong, like the rest of him.
There were many things Rengoku could think of that made him admire Giyuu. He was a strong fighter, almost noble. He was kind. Although they were never close and most likely wouldn’t be after this, Rengoku decided to add this to the admiration folder of his co-worker.
Rengoku managed to work a second finger in, grinding into Giyuu’s sweet spot, just to watch him shiver again. With his free hand, Rengoku popped a few of the bottom buttons of his shirt to kiss along his slim belly. The skin there was smooth.
And at just the right angle, Rengoku could see the lingering of a bruise hiding under the remainder of his shirt, right under Giyuu’s pecks. That thought had Rengoku’s hand jerking a little harder. Giyuu’s back arched, and his head rolled back.
His legs began to tremble, his arms both gripping him closer and threatening to pull him away. Being quiet also seemed to be becoming more difficult. Almost unnatural by the way his teeth ground together in almost agony. But when those pretty blue eyes fluttered open again, watery and soft, Rengoku knew he was lapping up every bit of this. That added to his thoughts about experience.
Maybe Giyuu thought that if everyone knew he liked men, they’d find more ways to tease him. Shinobu for sure. Maybe Iguro as well. But the way Shinazugawa always had his tits out gave him no room to talk in Rengoku’s eyes. Stay focused, Kyojuro. But his thoughts wouldn’t keep quiet; the questions kept building, until Giyuu’s whine at the loss of attention snapped Rengoku out of his own mind.
He apologetically pinched Giyuu’s ribs with his teeth before kissing the area. That seemed to placate his partner back into his unsteady, wanting breaths, just on the edge of a moan with every inhale and exhale.
Finally, Rengoku spread his fingers around before adding a third. Lubed up and gently prodded into Giyuu’s tight hole. It resisted just a little before Giyuu relaxed into him. All movements stopped.
There was a beat and then two where they were just looking at one another. Blinking slowly, moving little. Rengoku could barely hear the loudness of the bar from outside the thin walls.
Giyuu’s hands slid across his biceps, touching his nipples and feeling him out. Being felt up by a man, this man, felt so wonderful. Sensual and intimate.
His fingers moved passionately. Making sure to hit their target every time. He’d never imagined doing this with someone.
That was a lie. Rengoku was a man, sometimes even a man of lust. It wasn’t his fault. On a mission, at home, at his father's. The dreams would just come to him. Usually, it was a beautiful woman with longish dark hair and pretty eyes. Her smile was reserved, and her heart was lit ablaze.
While staring down at Giyuu, he sort of morphed her face into his. Very interesting and something he would definitely ponder out later.
Right now, all that mattered was seeing those eyes well with tears, and those teeth bite into pretty lips. They got into a sweet motion, Rengoku’s forearm and finger tips burning with exertion. This was pure bliss. For a long time, Rengoku knew he liked to please others, and part of the job was pleasing people. Protection was a kind of pleasure.
He was happy to continue this until Tomioka’s hands clawed him into taking his pants off. Nudity wasn’t something he was against per se, it’s just not something he did either. Now, he was rather fully exposed in front of a lover. His first lover.
Lover? He thought, is Tomioka a lover now?
That was another thing he would have to ponder another time, also. So many things to think about after one interaction.
His shaft was long and slightly slimmer than he would like, but Giyuu’s eyes shifted to his face quickly– so quickly he nearly missed it. At least it was kind of impressive.
A smile broke out across his face. His hand fell to Giyuu’s face and caressed his cheek. It was tender, sweet. Everything he was not. But everything he was trying to be now.
Rengoku oiled himself up as much as possible. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt a partner. That would truly stain his honor. Unless, he supposed, Giyuu was into that sort of thing. No judgment.
Inserting himself was like setting fireworks off behind his eyes. He was almost tempted to cum right then and there. Giyuu was tight and inviting, warm and a little wet from the oil. It was beyond delectable.
He held it together, only letting the tip in. Giyuu squeezed his pecks and moaned again. The sound was so beautiful. Dangerous.
Rengoku almost growled in his throat once he gave a hardy thrust forward. They groaned in unison. Giyuu’s hands flexed and tightened on his pecks, making Rengoku slow a little. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his lover. Well, maybe unless he asked. But that would require a lot of conversing beforehand.
Perhaps not if they didn’t even talk about having sex. They did with their eyes. At least, that's what he was getting from this entire encounter. As much as the other Hashira didn’t like to admit it, Giyuu was strong. Stronger than even him. If there was any point at which Giyuu did not want this, it would not have happened.
Giyuu whined impatiently, shifting his hips under Rengoku to get him moving more. If that wasn’t a sign, then he wasn’t sure what was.
He moved slowly, pushing out a little before pushing in again. It was wonderful how hot and slick Giyuu’s hole was. How it pushed him out but sucked him back in, too. How people ever left this, he wasn’t sure.
Each thrust was short, testing. Feeling out the environment more until Giyuu wrapped his pale legs around Rengoku’s waist and pushed them closer together. Their moans mixed together in a pretty song and encouraged Rengoku to pick up the pace.
His hips thrusted forward, and the added pressure of Giyuu’s legs bottomed him out quickly. “Gods,” he moaned and closed his eyes so as not to immediately cum or pass out. It felt way too good to be humanly possible. How could one guy feel like this? It must be impossible.
Oh, but the way his dick twitched and the warmth surrounding it left him drowning made it so much more possible.
Rengoku forced his hips into action. They bucked and bucked until a harsh pace was set. Giyuu writhed and moaned underneath him so sexily. Those eyes watered and cried like he had never seen a man do before. His hands dug into Rengoku’s shoulder blades until the skin broke.
Heavy, strong legs made it nearly impossible for Rengoku to thrust outward. He fought back against it, settling heavier until his balls were crudely slapping against the fat of Giyuu’s ass. It was messy, wet, and so very hot.
The room was suffocating him in a way Rengoku had never experienced before.
His eyes screwed shut as his hands wound around Giyuu’s legs and bent them to his chest forcefully. The gut-clenching howl that left his throat spurred Rengoku on further. He pressed his body into those strong legs until he was sure the whole bar heard Giyuu scream.
Not another sound played in his mind but those godly noises.
“Kyojuro, Kyojuro-- Kyojuro!” His pace increased as his thrusts got sloppier. Holy, holy shit.
Rengoku felt the spurt against his chest, but that didn’t stop him. His thighs burned, and his shoulders ached from the position, but it wasn’t until he felt that coil snap inside him that he finally leaned forward and took Giyuu’s neck in his mouth and bit. His lover made a pitiful noise in the back of his throat but otherwise didn’t protest.
His body ungracefully sagged down until he was crushing Giyuu with his much bigger weight. They lay like that until Rengoku could hear the cheers and glasses clinking of the bar from outside their private room. He let go of Giyuu’s mouth and saw a terrible bite mark sunk into the delicate, pale skin of its neck. Surely it would last a long time.
Guilt panged inside his chest at the thought of making anyone else Giyuu might be sleeping with jealousy. That did not make him feel good. It wasn’t like he was anyone to feel such a way. He just had a slight problem of taking things too far sometimes.
Giyuu cupped his face and quickly kissed all the worry from him. It was slow and hungry. And he certainly wasn’t in charge.
After they had gotten their clothes on, Giyuu poured them another drink, and they sat in silence like that for nearly another hour.
Rengoku watched as his lover fixed his ponytail and clothes, but something about the glow in his skin gave away everything. He may not be so expressive, but sex certainly had a look.
Finally, Rengoku felt how late it was getting and bid Giyuu a gentle farewell. Seriously, where did I get lover from?
---
Rengoku had been sitting in the Hashira meeting room with Shinazugawa for the past twenty minutes, silently filling out paperwork, before all of his peace went out the window.
“Kyojuro Alexander Rengoku!” He heard Uzui before he saw him, the door sliding open with a bang. That caused him to look up from his papers with a smile.
“Tengen Francis Uzui, how are you today?” He asked, watching Tengen slam his hands on the table in fury.
“Shut your beautiful face!”
Nearly forgetting Shinazugawa was there until he spoke up with a sip from his coffee mug. “What the hell are you so pissy about this morning?”
Uzui huffed and pointed a thumb out the door.“How about you take a walk, Sanemi this is between us.”
Shinazugawa bristled and spat some of his coffee back into his cup. “Fuck you, I was here first!”
“Is everything okay?” Rengoku asked, worrying a little about what he could’ve done to make Uzui so unhappy.
Uzui huffed and sat harshly down in a chair across from Rengoku. “I’ll be asking the questions”
He moved his papers to the side and folded his hands across the table. “Ohhkay.”
Shinazugawa shifted his coffee cup around while still looking at his papers and sighed loudly. “How long is this gonna take?”
“Kyojuro, how long have we been friends?” Uzui started, leaning in and staring incrediously at Rengoku.
“Years, feels like my whole life.”
“Exactly! It’s like we’re brothers”
“Right! Like you’re my little brother.”
“Yes-- no, what?” He frowned and furrowed his white eyebrows. “Why am I the little brother?”
“Just you and Senjuro, my cute little brothers.” Rengoku sighed fondly, thinking of his real little brother and how long it had been since he’d seen him.
“I’m literally older and so much bigger.” Uzui pushed one of his biceps out to show how big and strong he really was.
Rengoku shrugged, “mmh debatable.”
“You two are idiots,” Shinazugawa commented over his mug.
Uzui flailed his hands around in the air. “Okay, forget the brothers thing. You and I have always been side by side.”
“Through thick and thin. You’re my best friend Tengen.”
“Oh my god,” Sanemi eyerolled.
“And you're my best friend. You’re like my soulmate, my work husband.” Uzui held his hands out, and Rengoku met him halfway. They were big and warm and calloused as they always had been.
“I’d love to be more than just your work husband.”
“I’m in man. I’ve always been in. The wives know I’m in”
“It would be my honor to change my name to Uzui.”
Shinazugawa’s face soured. “Okay, are you brothers or husbands? You can’t be both.” Both ignored him and continued with their bit.
“We tell each other everything.”
Rengoku nodded his head along. “We do. I love our daily updates.”
“Can one of you just fucking kill me already?” Shinazugawa pounded his head against the table but made no move to leave the meeting room.
“You’re the first one I’ve told about how I’m afraid of snakes. And that’s why I made an entire army of muscle mice.” Uzui sighed, and his hands tightened on Rengoku’s
Shinazugawa’s head shot up, and he scowled at them, “What?”
“You’re the only one I’ve told about that thing on my thing.” He responded with a nod towards his lower body.
Uzui’s eyes sparked with remembrance, and then he grit his teeth. “Did you get that looked at yet?”
“No, you know Hashira insurance doesn’t cover anything.”
“I’m still right here.” Shinazugawa waved his arms around. Still, neither paid him any attention.
“You are the most special, the most important people in my entire life.”
“And you to me tengen.”
Uzui let go of their hands and slammed them down on the table. “So why didn’t you remind me it was your birthday last week!”
“Oh, Tengen, no!” Rengoku’s eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling at this realization. He’d forgotten all about his birthday and how everyone had been busy that day.
Shinazugawa spat his coffee out. “What the fuck-- that’s what this is about?”
Uzui crossed his arms and glared at Rengoku from across the table. “What the hell, man, you know I love planning birthdays.”
“I know, I know, but you were so busy last week, and I didn’t want to stress you.”
Shinazugawa took another sip of his coffee and spoke into it while pretending he cared more about his work papers. “Plus, your birthdays are always so flashy and obnoxious. Remember Muichiro’s? Euck.”
Uzui sighed and leaned back in his wooden chair. “Well, did you at least do anything for your birthday?”
Rengoku thought back to his birthday. To his evening with Giyuu. How soft his skin was, how angelic his moans were. There’s no way he could tell either of these two what he’d actually gotten up to. “I… got a drink.”
Which was undeniably a safe choice to say.
Uzui scrutinized him and from the corner of his eye, so was Shinazugawa. “Alone?”
“No… with Tomioka…” Shame filled his gut as he realized who he was sitting with. And not shame for either of his co-workers. But who he decided to sleep with.
Rengoku had never heard a gasp so loud from his best friend.
Sanemi audibly gagged. “Ew, what?”
“We didn’t even speak! We just sat in silence. I don’t even think he knew it was my birthday either.” His cheeks heated a shameful shade of red. He’d really enjoyed the sex the night of and the memory the couple of days after, but now, sitting here in front of Uzui and Shinazugawa, he wanted to peel the encounter from his mind.
Shinazugawa thrusted his coffee cup at him. “Jesus, have some standards, man.”
He turned back to Uzui. “Please don’t be upset.”
“I feel like I just lost another sibling.” Uzui sniffled and dabbed at his eye as if he were crying.
“Fuck, you’re really joking about that?” Shinazugawa judged with an ugly face.
“It’s not a joke,” Uzui said sternly.
Rengoku sighed and reached back for Uzui’s hand.“Tengen…”
Uzui shoved away and threw his hands out to Shinazugawa. “No, you know what, Sanemi is your new best friend now.”
“No, he is fucking not.” Shinazugawa scoffed.
Rengoku could not think of a more repulsive idea. “Wait, wait, yes, we missed my birthday, but will you plan my birthday weekend?”
“... Can it be flashy?” Uzui sheepishly twirled one of his dangly headpieces.
Shinazugawa turned to Rengoku and nearly begged. “Please say no.”
He ignored and tugged Uzui’s hands closer. “Flashier than Muichiro’s.” Thankfully, the conversation had naturally turned away from Giyuu, and he no longer had to work through his complicated feelings. Rengoku felt rather dishonorable and twisted inside. He’d thought fondly of Giyuu, but only in private. Not to the other Hashira, and here he slept with the guy. And dearly enjoyed it. Oh gods.
“I won't disappoint you. I love you, man.”
“I love you too, Tengen.”