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It isn't Over	By : KelliDenise Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1647 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own Bleach and am not making any money from this little tale.

Chapter List
- 1-It isn't Over
- 2-Part 2
- 1
- 2
A/N: This was originally a oneshot, but i just had to do a continuation.
Beta'd by Mishiko Shinsei
-o0o-
The senkaimon doors slid open letting the human world’s oppressive humidity hit the eighth division captain in the face as hard as if he’d been physically punched. In front of him, through the dark nothingness, was the small shack that had haunted his dreams for the past two months. He was alone this time. Youruichi was back with Jushiro. She'd been back to see him three times since the night he’d first ventured to see Kisuke. She must have been trying to make him look bad.
Shunsui wasn’t making any excuses. He felt horrible about not coming back sooner, even if a small part of him wanted nothing more than to forget the horrors he’d seen…the look in Kisuke’s eyes that he’d tried so hard to mask. But, Kyoraku was nothing if not a man that kept his word. Things were really just starting to settle down and the old man was paranoid. With him keeping such a watchful eye on all his officers, the captain wasn’t taking any chances. Urahara and the other’s safety was priority. Not that they couldn’t handle themselves, but you never knew who was watching you these days and he was determined they would not be found out because of his carelessness. Kisuke was innocent of the accusations against him, of that Shunsui was sure, though the exile had kept him in the dark as to what actually happened that fateful night.
“As much as I want to tell you, and probably should, I can’t. The less you know, the fewer problems you’ll have, and the safer you and everyone else will be,” he’d said. “At least for now.”
Shunsui, although amused by the idea of the younger and less experienced man trying to protect him, decided to respect his wishes and never question him about the incident again. He walked the short distance, across dirt and rocks until he reached the door. Steeling himself, he knocked. Almost immediately, the door was opened.
The last time Yoruichi had come to see Jushiro, she’d told them that Kisuke had finally found a solution to the hollowfication, and that everyone was fine. Still, Shunsui hadn’t known what to expect. He and the scientist had very different ideas of what ‘fine’ was. She hadn’t said that he’d found a way to reverse it, just that he’d figured something out. With Kisuke, that could have meant anything. It was very possible that the genius had eight hollows walking around as pets.
“Captain Kyoraku.” A mixture of surprise and fear crept on to the wiry blonde’s face.
The brunette looked up into uncomprehending amethyst eyes. “Captain Otoribashi,” he whispered just as shocked as the other. Shunsui had never been particularly close to the gentle natured man, but at that moment he could have hugged him. He looked normal…like himself, which was a good indication that everyone else would too. The ancient captain let out a shaky sigh of relief.
Rose eyed the man in front of him warily, his breathing becoming suddenly ragged, the hollow inside him no doubt reacting to the man before him. He stepped back, fighting to keep the monster at bay. ‘Gods, not now,’ he thought, panicked eyes darting around frantically.
Shunsui watched in stunned disbelief as black began to bleed into the former captain’s sclera like ink. Slightly familiar yet distinctly hollow reiatsu burst from Rose almost knocking Shunsui back and momentarily taking his breath away. The brunette put his hands up in surrender. “I’m not your enemy.” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted it. That was exactly what someone who was an enemy would say. Fortunately, it seemed to help.
Rose staggered forward slamming his hand against the door frame, choking on his own breath, attempting to regain his composure. “I know. Yoruichi told us,” he gasped in a chilling, warbled voice. “Can’t quite control it yet.”
The blond turned, and Shunsui couldn’t help but notice the hand that held the door was threatening to rip it from its hinges. He stepped in cautiously and went to peel Rose’s fingers from the wood. The ex-captain’s head snapped around, and dark eyes pinned Kyoraku with a murderous glare. It softened almost immediately.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, feeling the demon finally relenting power back to him. “The hollows are wild and merciless.” His face glistened with sweat, a testament to the effort it had took to fight back the beast.
The pink-clad shinigami gave a half nod, not at all understanding what the man could possibly be going through. He slid the door closed as Rose seemed to fully regain his composure.
“It’s like achieving bankai all over again,” Rose offered, answering one of the hundred questions that must have been lurking in Kyoraku’s eyes. “If your zanpakuto had rabies,” he finished with a cynical smirk.
The older man placed, what he hoped was a reassuring hand, on the obviously disturbed man’s back. “I’m just glad you all are alright.”
“At least someone is,” the former captain commented, sounding only half as bitter as he actually was.
“Nonsense. Why, everyone’s on pins and needles waiting to hear how you all are.”
Rose actually chuckled at that as he led Shunsui through the room that, on his last visit, had been filled with unconscious bodies.
“You might want to take off that robe, it’ll get dirty,” Rose said before disappearing down a hole in the ground that Shunsui hadn’t even seen. The usually drunk captain paused just long enough to wonder why such a thing would be important at a time like this, before jumping down after him. It was a long way down, longer than he’d expected.
They finally landed and once the cloud of dust settled Shunsui didn’t take time to wonder about the huge hole he was currently in and how it had gotten there. Instead, he let his eyes move to each of his former colleagues who sat in a straight line on the ground. They looked tired and run down, but they were alive and as far as Shunsui was concerned that was all that mattered.
No one acknowledged him. The familiar clash of steal pulled his critical gaze away from the former officers. Silver eyes widened upon seeing a battered Kisuke inside of what seemed to be a four or five layer barrier. Tessai sat with legs crossed, apparently maintaining the exhausting kido. He too stared gravely at the blonde who held a glistening Benihime out in front of him, ready to counter whatever attack was thrown at him.
Shunsui’s eyes moved across the yellow cube that encased his young friend and settled on…“Shinji?” His heart sank into his stomach. The man was barely recognizable.
“It’s hideous isn’t it?” The possessed blonde moved towards the seated group, leaving the eighth squad captain alone with his thoughts.
-o0o-
Blood trickled down the pallid face. His breathing, labored. Tessai checked the watch he held in his hand. His friend had been in there with Shinji for almost thirty minutes. Not to mention, he’d gone over an hour with Hiyori. The plan had been for Kisuke to use his new “hollow suppression technique” as he called it, to help the group gain control over the hollow that now lived inside of them.
“Two a day,” he’d said. And it worked well with Yoruichi there to help. The first day, Yoruichi took Mashiro and Kisuke had gone up against Kensei. The scientist had monitored the two so closely afterwards that Kensei threatened him with a round two if he wasn’t left alone. The white-haired man understood though.
An animalistic roar tore from Shinji’s throat. It was like music to Tessai’s ears. The long-haired blond fell to his knees exhausted as the bone that covered half of his body began to crumble away. Kisuke was on him immediately. The kido master let the barrier fall, shook off his own fatigue, and rose to his feet.
“How do you feel?” Urahara asked the panting man in his arms. The blinding grin he received put him at ease…a little.
“Like shit,” he answered.
Kisuke smirked. Another success. The shadow Tessai’s large frame cast on them drew the genius’ eyes upwards. The bespectacled giant leaned down, gently pulled Hirako’s arm over his shoulder and lifted him from the ground. Kisuke fell back, resting on his hands. His eyes drifted shut. His sleeping schedule had been more than screwed since they’d inhabited the crappy little shack. Between caring for Shinji and the others and his research, there was little time for sleep. And the few, rare moments he found for himself, sleep remained elusive, as well as his sanity.
Feeling a presence beside him he cracked an eye open, fully expecting Rose or Hachi to be there, concern etched in their features. They were all worried. Those two just showed it different from the others.
A blur of pink. Kisuke blinked the fuzziness from his eyes and focused on his guest. To his surprise, despite his weariness, the exile managed a faint, but sincere smile. “Old man.” His eyes closed again and only then did he notice the hint of sake in the air. “I just need to rest my eyes,” he explained.
The crunching of stones and dirt under sandaled feet was the only warning Kisuke got before he was lifted off the ground and into strong arms.
-o0o-
Kisuke’s eyes fluttered open. He was in the shithole that was his bedroom.
“How do you feel?” A baritone voice came from across the room. The scientist snorted upon remembering the last thing he’d seen before blacking out.
“Did I actually sleep?”
Shunsui sighed, “Yea, for about fifteen minutes.”
“How’s Hirako?” Kisuke couldn’t help himself.
“Fine I suppose.” Shrugging out of his kimono and haori, Captain Kyoraku moved towards his young friend. “Tessai brought tea.”
With a wince, a battle-weary Urahara rolled onto his side. “I’m so sick of tea I can’t stand it.”
“Good thing I came prepared.” Shunsui allowed himself a small smile as he produced a bottle of saké from his robe.
The older man pushed a cup towards the blond, but it was promptly pushed back. “Later.” Kisuke’s silvery stare locked on the man before him. “I need to bathe.” He pushed the tray to the side and slowly got to his feet, exiting the room without another word.
-o0o-
“Nice view right?”
Kyoraku grunted at his young friend’s sarcasm, turning from his place in front of the window. His eyebrow’s shot into his hairline.
“Sorry, but we don’t have linen…as you can imagine.” The naked inventor padded over to a far corner of the room and quickly slipped on a pair of loose pants, completely unaware of the reaction he was invoking in the ancient captain. “I’ll pass on that tea, but I’ll take you up on that saké.” He held up the too large pants with one hand and removed the wet locks from his face with the other.
Shunsui’s eyes traced over the clean lines of the younger man’s throat, then moved down over his collarbones, shoulders and chest.
The exile plopped down on the raggedy futon, tilting his head to each side, cracking his stiff neck. The brunette hadn’t moved from his spot by the window so the exhausted blond helped himself to the saké.
“I hope you brought more than this,” Kisuke said before taking a hearty gulp of the liquid. “Stay a while.” The blond gestured to the place on the floor in front of him. “You’re making me nervous standing over me like that.”
Kyoraku moved slowly across the room and took a seat. His eyes never left the exhausted figure before him. Every cut and bruise on the man’s body was noted and committed to memory. Gone was the carefree, fun-loving Kisuke. Besides his obvious fatigue, the scientist appeared the same, but his eyes told a different story. A story he couldn’t bring himself to tell Shunsui.
It pained the captain to see him this way, more than he was willing to admit. Reaching in his robe he produced a second and larger jug and sat in on the discarded tray. Kisuke smirked. A pained, almost bitter curl of perfect lips. “You’re always prepared.”
He leaned back and stared at the now familiar cracked ceiling. Usually he would try for small talk, maybe make a joke, but pleasantries eluded him. Silence seemed best. He heard his guest drink from the bottle and sighed. “Not a very gracious host, am I?”
Shunsui grunted. It was true this was nothing like the last time he’d come, when they’d easily fallen back into their comfortable banter, ignoring the ugliness that surrounded them. But, he couldn’t honestly say that he thought it would be. The man that had once smiled so effortlessly now seemed a hollow, shell of a man. A shadow of what was. Before he could stop himself, Shunsui reached his hand over and gave the pale man’s ankle a comforting squeeze.
“I hate regret.” Kisuke mumbled, mildly soothed by the gentle circles the older man’s thumb was now drawing on his foot. “And being outsmarted.” Kyoraku could almost hear the blonde’s teeth grinding. “Never again.”
‘By who?’ He wanted to ask, but instead the brawny captain shifted a little and propped the man’s legs in his lap. Skilled hands began rubbing the tension from Urahara’s feet. He let out a satisfied groan and threw an arm over his face.
“You’re good.”
“So I’ve been told.” Calloused hands traveled up the blue pants leg applying pressure to strong calves.
Kisuke groaned again. He’d needed this more than he knew. Not just the massage, but the quiet. Time for himself. Time with this man, who always seemed to know what to do…what to say, and what not to say. Time he was wasting feeling sorry for himself…for the comrades he was trying desperately to save. He pushed up on his elbows, meeting Shunsui’s gunmetal-grey eyes. The captain’s ministrations stopped, his expression curious.
“Show me how good.” Kisuke slid his feet from the brunette’s hold and moved forward. Not thinking, he was tired of thinking…but doing. Deft fingers pushed the old drunk’s robe from his shoulders exposing his muscular frame, then reached back and relieved his hair from its bound state. “I like it like this. I thought I told you that.”
Shunsui let the younger man take the lead. Blunt nails raked through the silky hairs on his chest, and then Kisuke’s lips were on his. Hard and hungry. Needy. “Show me,” he said again, the words almost completely lost in the kiss.
The control Shunsui had been attempting to hold on to slipped with the blond’s demand. There was a low rumble in Kyoraku’s chest, and then Urahara found himself on his back, ravenous eyes tracing every inch of his body before settling on his face. The captain was hesitant.
The exile reached up, snaking his hand under the thick mane and resting it on the hovering man’s nape. “Don’t think. I do enough of that for the both of us.”
Full lips crashed down on Kisuke’s with a hunger that matched his own. Their tongues did a slow, sensual dance that had the young genius’ cock throbbing. He reached up, untying Kyoraku’s obi, and throwing it to the side.
There were too many things between them.
Trying not to dwell on how true that statement was, the scientist wormed a hand inside the captain’s hakama, but he was stopped short. A large hand griped his wrist, forcefully pinning it above his head. A skilled tongue traced the shell of his ear.
“Slow down and let me show you.” Shunsui’s voice was as smooth and dark as black satin.
The warm appendage moved lower still, stopping to draw circles around pebbled nipples. Kisuke sucked in a breath as calloused hand hooked his loose fitting pants and the captain moved down his body, leaving an erratic trail of bites and kisses on his prey’s body. Wavy brown locks were swept to one side and the large hand tugged the now writhing man’s pants further down, freeing his neglected manhood.
Hooded silver eyes watched the brunette head dip down. Soft lips pressed against his hipbone making the panting blond suck in a sharp breath. The way the captain strategically maneuvered around his victim’s bobbing member, ignoring it completely, was nothing short of torture. Reverent kisses were planted on a pale stomach, gentle bites teased slim hips and sensual licks trailed along trembling thighs.
Absently, Kisuke wondered if the man was trying to make him beg. That didn’t seem to be the usually laid-back man’s style. Actually it was more his style.
Deciding to try his luck once more, he reached down, catching Shunsui’s chin and bringing it up to his face. He searched his senior’s stormy grey eyes, for what he didn’t know, before sucking the man’s bottom lip into his mouth. This time the captain allowed the exile’s hand to slide into his pants.
Kyoraku let himself be flipped and what remained of his clothes to be stripped from his body. “You’re lesson is too slow old man,” Kisuke said huskily, before impatiently wrapping his lips around the other’s length. As much as he would have liked to savor him, bring him grunting and moaning to the edge of orgasm and hold him there before backing off and repeating, there was no time. Not in Urahara’s overworked mind. He couldn’t wait another minute. The blond told himself it wasn’t because of the completely familiar, but totally unwanted emotions rising within him.
No, there was no time for tender caresses and soft reassuring words. He wouldn’t entertain thoughts of a relationship he couldn’t hope to maintain. It might shatter him, and he couldn’t afford that. Not when so many others would be affected…be hurt by the falling shards of his sanity.
Releasing the thick member and ignoring the string of saliva that stretched from it to his mouth, seemingly pleading for him not to go, he sat up. Shunsui didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched the younger man with eyes that always knew more than his mouth ever admitted, eyes that understood. Kisuke turned his back on them, on him, the past and the dream and faced reality…the future.
Not bothering with preparation, he lowered himself on the older man with an unrestrained moan. Pain shot through him, making his back arch and his head fall back. Instinctually, the captain’s hips rose to meet his partners. A violent shudder wracked Shunsui’s large frame as his large hand shot out, grabbing the blond’s waist, pulling him down and forcing himself deeper inside the deliciously tight warmth.
The old man was big, almost too big, and for a moment Kisuke thought maybe he’d bitten off more than he could chew. But then the brunette was moving, hitting his sweet spot with every thrust. Urahara supposed he was too big to miss. The pace was perfect, steady. All signs of his previous exhaustion were gone.
The inventor’s attempt to pay some much needed attention to his neglected cock was stopped when the almost gentle strokes turned suddenly rough. Shunsui rammed into the blond, still holding firmly onto his waist, making him take every inch of his length. Kisuke cried out.
“You would deny me this one thing?” The older man’s eyes roamed over the muscular back that was offered to him instead of the usually smirking face that he imagined was, at that moment, twisted with a blissful sort of agony. “You turn your back on me Kisuke?” He thrust hard again eliciting a guttural moan from the younger man. “It won’t help.” The thrust was harder this time. There was no anger in his voice, but maybe a hint of something the exile pretended not to detect. A hand crept into pale locks, snatching Urahara’s head back painfully.
His arms shot back to rest on each side of the brawny captain before he fell completely backwards.
“It won’t help either of us.” Shunsui’s breath caressed his one night lover’s ear. His ragged voice broke. He released the man’s hair, almost shoving him forward before returning his hand to the slim waist. He could feel he was close, but wouldn’t let himself release before the man that straddled him both physically and figuratively.
With what can only be described as an animalistic roar he pistoned in and out of the now screaming man.
It was almost amazing how something could hurt so bad and yet feel so good. Kisuke’s mind was blank as he yelled a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. He heard himself call out the man’s name as his eyes clenched shut and he shot a fountain of white through the air.
Shunsui pounded into Urahara with an almost sadistic force at hearing the pained way he called out his name, knowing it would probably be the last time he would ever hear it. He came hard, fully sheathed inside of the man that perhaps in another life and under different circumstances would have let the captain love him.
As soon as he released the man’s waist, he fell back. Kyoraku winced as his half flaccid cock slipped out of the tight pink hole. The blond’s eyes were closed, a peaceful look on his face, and Shunsui could help but feel some pride in the fact that he had put it there.
The next morning or afternoon, Kisuke didn’t know, he woke up…alone. The old man was gone. The tray of tea and half consumed saké sat in the same place, along with something that definitely wasn’t there before. Groggily, he crawled over, picking up what he soon realized was a green and white stripped hat. It was hideous. A note was with it.
Your very own stupid looking hat.
Kisuke could almost see the wry grin on the drunks face.
Wear it whenever you think of an old man.

Live well. Kisuke. Without regret.

Maybe, in a hundred years or so, we’ll see each other again.
~Kyoraku
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It isn't Over