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Snip	By : severuslover Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1558 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Snip
- 1
A/N: Finally this is done. And it only took 5 years >_> Amazing what a change of tense POV did. Hope you like it. A sequel in the works. Kay~

Snip.

“Line up yer bunch a ingrates.”

The men scramble to make tight lines, following your order. You idly watch them bump into each other, the real focus of your attention standing a few feet behind you, his face blank.

“Straight ta the point. This here’s yer new vice captain, Sosuke,” you nod over in his general direction, not sparing a glance or a smile of any kind.

The air is tense as they take in his nondescript form. They know him. The just can’t believe he’s been promoted. You can’t believe you did it either but you have your reasons and you feel no need to explain yourself.

Aizen steps forward and bows with a warm smile.

You shiver, feeling something menacing behind it.

Snip.

You keep him close at all times.

Not out of sight and never out of reach, unless you’re asleep. Something about him feels wrong. The most accurate word you would use is…devious.

You treat him coldly. Call him by his first name and without honorifics. There’s no need to bother with pleasantries. You hate him after all, and you want him to know this. You want to make it clear.

He’s not fooling you.

Snip.

You’re on your way to welcome the newest captain personally.

He’s a bumbling oaf who for the life of him can’t get Hyori to warm up to him.

He could easily be mistaken for an idiot but you find him endearing, and after speaking with him even more so, realizing that he – like Sosuke – also, should not be taken at face value.

You’re intrigued and you see someone else is too. Why?

You tear away his disguise, revealing the sneaky son of a bitch you know he is. Clearly in a mocking tone, he remarks on how scary you are.

No more than you are, you think.

Snip.

You’re supposed to be working but you don’t particularly feel like today. Balancing your chair on its back legs to prop your feet up, you watch him instead.

Diligently working away, occasionally an innocent, slightly bewildered look crosses his face and he stops uncertain, before continuing.

You hate him. He’s always polite no matter how you treat him and makes a wonderful show of being harmless and hard working.

It never slips. He’s crafted it well. You’re a bit surprised but impressed that he manages to wear his mask day after day without fail. You admire his dedication.

“Captain Hirako, you’re staring,” he says simply without taking his eyes off the work before him. He grins and you hate him more.

Snip.

You’re shirking your work yet again, laughing mentally at the pile of reports you foisted on your vice-captain’s desk and the face he will probably make when he sees them.

It’s a beautiful summer day and in your opinion too nice to waste indoors.

You’ve found the shade of a large tree and sit in the grass under it, admiring the blue sky between shifting leaves.

You hum the tune of a new song, still stuck in your head.

“Ah, your hair is so beautiful, Captain Hirako, but doesn’t it make you uncomfortable on days like this?”

He watches his fingertips trace their way over the nape of your neck, smiling at the way the silky strands catch light as they fall away from his hands. You freeze, eyes widening, but when you look over your shoulder your face is unperturbed.

“Shouldn’t you be workin’?”

“I could say the same for you, Captain,” he says in what you interpret as an eerie tone.

Later when you recall the memory it sends a chill through your body. You are unable to determine whether it was his voice, the surprising gentleness of his touch or the fact that you hadn’t noticed him behind you at all.

Snip.

It has become a troublesome habit that you do not like. This closeness he thinks you both have. When you’re alone or just out of sight of anyone nearby, he has a tendency to run his fingers through the fringes of your hair.

It’s obvious – to you – that he’s up to something. He knows you’re aware he’s doing it. He wants you to be aware. To say something.

You hate it but you say nothing. You can beat him at his own game.

What bothers you though, is that more often than not, you do not notice him, until he touches you. Until he wants you to notice.

Snip.

You allow it because you want to win. That and because it distracts you from the fact that you can’t have what you want, who you want.

He offered you a drink and you accepted to dull the pain, and for no particular reason another and another. Your vision now has blurry outline, the blood in you veins pumping so ferociously that your body feels uncomfortably hot. You feel alive.

“Why don’t cha drop the act,” you slur, glaring at his eight eyes that constantly shift when he moves his face.

He looks mildly puzzled, his hand suspended in mid-air, drink an inch away from his lips. “What act?”

“Hmph.” Were you a different person, you may have actually believed him to be genuinely baffled by what you’re saying. You know better.

He smiles. “Why are you so hell bent on proving that I’m doing something wrong, Captain?”

“Cuz I know ya. I know…” You’re quiet for a moment, waiting for your head to stop spinning.

“You don’t know the slightest thing about me.” His voice is quiet. Cold. Sinister.

“Could care less,” you challenge evenly.

“Ah, but I want you to…”

You can’t remember him coming so close or why you didn’t object.

You only know that you hear the faint tolling of a bell. The beginning of the end.

Snip.

You hate yourself. You’re drunk out of your mind.

You hate that his hands are all over your body, teasing, testing, exploring: that it feels great because it’s been so long. Too long. That you’re making sounds you never would have thought you would make in this bastard’s presence. You can’t help yourself and your inhibitions are gone but you still don’t intend to let him win.

It’s rough and tumble.

Hard, bruising kisses, bites without mercy, grips so tight they’ll surely leave marks but who cares. You’re enjoying it and you won’t lose, but you’ll come to regret it.

Snip.

You’ve had a grueling day but something has actually been accomplished. The reports you’ve been avoiding are finally done.

Lying with your head on the desk you feel his presence this time. He rubs circles in your back soothingly while looking over your shoulder at the impressive stack of papers.

You’re too tired to tell him to keep his hands to himself.

“Good job, Captain Hirako. How about a drink in celebration of you being productive for once,” he says.

You close your eyes and sigh when he applies pressure to a sore spot just under your shoulder.

You hate yourself.

Snip.

It’s a cold, windy night. You’re listening to a new Jazz record you’ve picked up. It’s slow and poignant notes emanate throughout the room. There’s nothing like music. With good sake and a beautiful full moon, it’s quite perfect for a night like this. The only thing missing is good company.

You have enough time to ponder when the exact time you became so pathetic was.

He’s in the corner, bathed in shadows. You have no time for this.

“No use hidin’, Sosuke. I can see ya there.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“Whaddya want?

He doesn’t answer, choosing instead to pull you to your feet, one hand around your waist the other clasping your hand. He leads you into a slow dance, so close that your cheeks touch, rotating in small circles.

“Your music is somehow very appealing. I’m starting to understand why you’ve taken a liking to it.”

You indulge him for a minute more then stop. You are not amused. You’re tired of playing this game.

“Go away,” you say seriously. That’s what you want. To be alone.

“What if I say no?” he asks playfully.

You narrow your eyes but he remains unfazed.

“Ok,” he agrees finally, but he still has his arm around you, still has you slender fingers enclosed in his hand.

You always surrender but that’s because you know you’ll win. This is different. The scales are tipping.

You still hate him. The way his brown eyes shine with apparent affection does not fool you. It annoys you that his kiss is unnaturally gentle. His lips are soft and his tongue experienced at pulling the most sickeningly breathy moans from you. The way his hands always find your hair and entangle themselves in it while he whispers how angelic the feel of it is and the feel of your clenching warmth.

He’s a liar. You hate him.

You already know before the night is out that this is one you will never forget.

Snip.Snip.Snip.Snip.

You know at once and without doubt that he will be your demise. The revelation came to you slowly, dawning on you like a beautiful sunrise.

You see, while you were taking a stroll through the snow covered streets that morning, you had a certain thought. How much nicer it would’ve been, had he been there… Your breath gets caught. It’s like a disease, the frequency in which he comes to mind now.

This will be your death.

You’re determined to change your fate. To end the game.

Snip.Snip.Snip.Snip

He’s been acting strange lately. It’s been a while since he’s come to your private quarters, since he’s buried his nose by the nape of your neck and inhaled deeply. His answers seem different but it must be your imagination. He’s still the same old boring guy. You take note but you don’t care.

You ignore him. It’s nothing but a game of endurance. You’re better than him. You’re winning.

Snip.Snip.Snip.Snip.Snip.Snip

It honestly does come as a surprise.

Your mind is racing and buzzing, incredibly noisy as thoughts and ideas and memories bounce around. You’re thinking so much yet you can’t think.

Your mind has shut down.

Half of your face is hollowfied and your vice captain stands before you. Sneering. Triumphant.

You’re barely understanding what he’s saying, senses muffled by disbelief. He says it’s your fault that this is happening. Your fault that several captains and vice captain lay partly hollowfied. Even Hyori.

Shit.

You don’t understand. You watched him. Kept him close to keep an eye on him. To avoid this in particular. Your body is shaking from a mix of fury and too many volatile emotions mixing together ready to explode.

“W-Why, Sosuke?” You bang your fists in frustration.

“You never trusted me, Captain Hirako. Had you tired to get to know me, to form a bond with me as my captain, you may have noticed.”

He’s so cocky its eating you alive. You were too focused on beating him at his own game. You feel sick to your stomach. How could he?

You thought…

You look him dead in the eye, glaring as hard as you can. You hope he feels your hatred and disgust for him.

“From the beginning you never truly saw me. You only had eyes for him.” You notice that eerie tone again. You don’t care enough to analyze it or his words.

You lost. In more ways than one.

Snip.

You stand in front of the mirror. Your neck feels strange, your head oddly light. It’s liberating. You’re free. All the memories of him lie discarded on the cold floor with the strands of hair that he was so fond of. Your lip quivers.

You won’t lose again.
- 1
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