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Heat Of The Night	By : AlmaGemela Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female Views: 8350 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Since my driver's license does NOT say Kubo Noriaki, I do not own BLEACH. The only thing being made from this fanfiction is a hobby. But please enjoy!

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: Since this is filed under 'fanfiction' you can haphazardly guess that nothing in fact belongs to me. Sad, I know.

WARNING: Graphic content ahead…but who am I kidding?! If you've read the first 5 chapters, obviously you're not about to run screaming at the sight of this one. Well, hopefully not, any way. Remnants of Peanut Butter plunder ahead!

The gentle scraping of pen against parchment was the only sound in the Rokubantai office. Ordinarily, this might afford an unusual sound when in orchestra with others busily filling out paperwork. Many seated officers preferred the traditional use of ink and brush rather than mortal instruments of modern construct from the world of the living. But Ritsu Kuchiki preferred the progressive writing utensil in that it was more practical and efficient for continuous, if somewhat monotonous, work. He paused, a gentle sigh escaping into his tea cup as he wet his lips with the brew.

It really was quiet this morning. Fukutaichou Abarai was training alongside several other seated officers out on the grounds. A convenient excuse, Ritsu thought, as it allowed for a temporary respite from lackluster laboring at a desk. Paperwork was undoubtedly the more tedious aspect of the job. Many chose to avoid it whenever and however an opportunity presented itself. Ritsu found it best to merely grit his teeth and push on through, rather than avoid the inevitable. As such, his desk was usually the least cluttered. That wasn't to say that he enjoyed doing it, however.

His gaze meandered to the window, toward the powder blue sky and all its temptation. He was more than caught up in his work by this point; more so than his coworkers, to put it mildly. He was vey tempted to push back from his desk and leave for a time to enjoy the seasonable weather. The warmth from outdoors beckoned, while a lazy breeze whispered in through the window. It ruffled several documents, rustling them lightly in a gentle perfume of fresh air.

He snapped his eyes back toward his paper, wrestling with the discipline in staying ahead of his coworkers versus giving in to temptation. Although…there were also other duties to consider. He shifted in his chair abruptly, thoughts quietly turning. It was traditional within the Kuchiki clan to have as many seated officers as possible within the Gotei 13. Not merely to set an example of the nobility's responsibility in upholding the law. There was status and prestige to consider in the appointment as well.

As for Ritsu, it was also a little known fact that he was charged by the Elders of his clan to keep an eye on things in favor of the clan's interests. Ritsu was confident that few shinigami of the Rokubantai knew of this not altogether altruistic duty. Though he was fairly certain it would be foolish to consider Byakuya Kuchiki completely ignorant of such a possibility. A noble and prosperous clan such as theirs did not retain power through simple luck. It required keen observation, as well as many a finger in more than one jar within the Sereitei.

While honored by the gravity such a position offered within the clan, Ritsu was nonetheless wary in providing too much information. He felt it best that no individual hold all the cards, whatever game politics or power might play both within the Gotei 13 and the Kuchiki clan. Still, the duality of his presence offered a certain comfort to his clan as well as an agreeable status for himself. He had little to complain about. Not to mention it now offered a most convenient excuse...

The last of his tea drunk, Ritsu gamely continued writing, doing his best to ignore the inviting warmth that beckoned from the window. He glanced toward the Taicho's office door, frowning suddenly. He then hastily withdrew his gaze and pretended to re-check his work on Paragraph C, Subtext 2-11 on Form 26... The marring facial expression of disquiet had in fact blossomed as his thoughts meandered toward the location of one Kuchiki Byakuya, rather than the redundant and minuscule script before him.

Habit had him disguise the true source of his concern, even though none were about to observe the behavior. Much like his second cousin, it was not in his nature to afford outward attention to things that he found somewhat unsettling. However, unlike Bkyakuya, Ritsu was none too keen on acting too "emotionally constipated," as colorfully described by Abarai Fukutaichou, when it came to completely masking his feelings.

It was strange that Kuchiki Taicho had not yet put in an appearance, though admittedly not unheard of. Filing away the last of his workload, Ritsu noiselessly arose from his desk to rinse his tea cup as he mulled over this unusual absence. There were only a fair number of places Byakuya might be during this time of day, and he intended to visit at least one of them. Call it a hunch, but he guesstimated this had something to do with the pensive and distracted air his relation had failed to completely conceal over the past 48 hours. Then again, perhaps he was merely being paranoid. Shrugging, Ritsu headed out of the office, fighting back the urge to smile.

No matter. Whether it was something or nothing, he felt it best to investigate. At the very least, he himself was curious as to what might be afoot that would draw the attention of the Head of the Kuchiki Clan. More importantly, he wouldn't mind picking up a new pen while visiting the world of the living…He grinned wryly, in truth content to ultimately follow his own agenda on such a lovely and promising day.

The half empty jar lay abandoned, sadly rocking on its side. In a blind haste, it had been shoved roughly away to make room for Orihime's generous derriere. Sticky fingers had ceased pealing back layers of cloth, though lips had not withdrawn their exploration.

He groaned, failing at masking the sound as she ground against him, her lips refusing to be idle. There would be teeth marks. He was sure of it. But as of this moment, he failed to care. He would simply pay the minx back in kind. He had an inkling that the spell would be broken were any words to be spoken, so he would speak without words while still using teeth and tongue. Neither his nor Inoue-san's hunger had abated, as time lay suspended. They were both awash with torrential appetites that had nothing to do with the nut spread the girl so cherished. A seemingly innocent delicacy had enacted as a tipping point, allowing a temporary foray into madness. Or rather, enacted as a catalyst for the remnants of a toxin still running through his veins. Yet that didn't matter now. Here in this moment, it was enough to simply feel.

Orihime tortuously rubbed along his cloth-covered shaft, her fingers gently dancing into the open sides of his hakama. Teasing. Caressing. Touches just shy of anything truly satisfying. He expected her to giggle: to voice aloud her nerves in an innocuous way. But the inoffensive sound never came. She seemed too wrapped up in her current endeavor.

She was being reckless. She was playing with fire and bound to be burned. She was in a free-fall and unable to stop. But it was hard to concentrate with heat licking through her limbs. Her mind flickered in waning attention to less physical concerns. Later…she would deal with…everything later. It could all wait. What couldn't wait was the throbbing, thick length of promise before her. It was…Wait…Her lips broke away from his own, "Wait!" It came out in a gasp, as though she had just emerged from under water. In a way, she had. Something had penetrated her subconscious…something pertaining particularly toward that throbbing length pressed against her core. Her initial panic and humiliation wrapped up with the pill had not completely diminished. "I—I mean….We, we need protection."

It barely registered at first. His irises were swollen with desire, among other things, and it seemed his mouth was content to recompense its loss for the delicious flesh of her neck. She elicited another gasp, though she tried to regain focus. "From what? There is no need to fear attack—"

"N—no! That's not what I meant!" another sharp intake of breath in reaction to his sinful ministrations. Kami! Where did he learn to DO that?! "I—I meant physical—what I mean to say is I mean intimate protection!" He yielded slowly, his rigid movements bespoke of either his great displeasure or capability of control and discipline. Either way, he displayed an unwilling compliance to completely relinquish her flesh. "You do not wish….to conceive?"

"Yes! Yes, that's it exactly" she was awash with relief at his comprehension, his understanding…

His eyes narrowed, resembling azure shards of glass. It was a reasonable appeal. Sensible, rational…hell, even logical. He could see the practicality of it. Though misted in the residual haze of the aphrodisiac, traces of his thoughts could recognize that. Could appreciate the sense in it. She was a young woman, a child in many ways; impossibly young to truly contend with any genuine and long-term involvement with him. There were complications in his life. Obligations he needed to fulfill. But the thought of her flat stomach swollen with a babe, carrying his heir, caused a stab of arousal to rip through his insides. For a moment, his loosening grip tightened.

"There…are a means to prevent this?" Orihime felt hollow, suddenly. Like she had asked something inappropriate or had just served up a fresh serving of disappointment. She swallowed back the blossoming embarrassment and, strangely enough, guilt.

"Well…yeah…I mean. What I was babbling about before. Well, I mean earlier. I mean…before…" Flustered, she pointedly ignored the peanut butter jar nudging into her side. It felt accusatory. Her very own food was judging her. She was sure of it. "…I went to a clinic…A health facility where they provide care and medicine. I wanted to be sure after what happened before…"another healthy blush. At this rate, people would think she sported a rather spectacular sunburn.

"It is something you administer after—?"

"No! I mean, yes!" she blurted, "it's just that…The Pill is only intended as a sort of back-up plan. You know? Sort of like a plan B?" she amended, trying to remain calm. Her only response was a silent, albeit calculating, stare. "There are better, more efficient ways to prevent…um…the pitter patter of little feet." He seemed to be mulling it over. His head lowered. His hands brushed away from her arms and down her thighs. Then off to the linoleum counter itself, still effectively boxing her in. Behind his enigmatic cerulean eyes, the wheels of his mind were turning.

"Is this…protection…easy to procure?"

"Yes!" Oops, bit too enthusiastic in that response. She tried not to care. She slid down back to the floor, taking in his deliberate, lethargic movement to allow her escape. He inclined his head, hooded gaze watching her intently as the rich silk of his voice caressed her very skin. "You may do so." The resonance of it made her shiver. A small part of her made an indignant protest that that had been a somewhat sanctimonious response on his part, but whatever. She felt too raw and overly excited to really care. Ignoring the nerveless trembling that now wracked her body, she tore past the sexy half-clad shinigami, rushing off in search of footwear to carry her to the convenience store.

Blue with silver accents, or forest green jaded with gold? That was the real question, here. Ritsu mulled it over, eyeing one packaged writing utensil while idly fondling the other as he stood undecided in the aisle. Blue was more his style…but this particular shade of green was very appealing. Granted, there had been more than one reason to undertake this venture into the world of the living. His use of the Kuchiki family's personal Senkaimon had not merely been put to use for shopping. But he was in no hurry to pursue his other business, especially as it pertained to what was honestly a shallow excuse in traveling outside the Sereitei.

The weather was nearly a mirror of duplicity to what it was like back home, save perhaps for a higher temperature. The warmth was nearly stifling and wet. Still, he could put up with the increase of humidity for the sake of acquiring a new pen. Once that enjoyable endeavor had been accomplished, he would do what was initially intended and seek out his superior. It was likely that nothing at all was amiss, and his vague concern had been unwarranted. In any case, it had provided a lovely excuse to survey Karakura and all it had to offer.

So enraptured was he in appropriating a purchase, Ritsu nearly failed to observe the chiming of the convenience store's bell and the hurried approach of a familiar reiatsu. The latter hit him in the shoulder blades and settled in the pit of his stomach. Immediately his attention turned toward the female frantically looking through the more…personal merchandise stocked by the store. His eyebrows furrowed in thought. He hadn't realized the girl was active in such a way. It was rumored among some that she was intimately involved with the substitute shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo. Or at the very least, expressed an interest in the boy. Whatever the gossip, accurate or otherwise, he conceded it didn't actually concern him. It was none of his business…He warily cast his attention back to the matter at hand, however distracted he felt now that his curiosity was roused. It didn't subside when he heard her muttering under her breath.

"Large or Jumbo…that the same as large or medium…? Shoot! Why do they have to make this so confusing!...not like I have anything to compare it to…but at least I can rule out average…I assume that's small…" Ritsu fought the urge to cough to dissolve the sound of the discomfiting mumblings. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, yet he had no desire to overhear such inappropriate ramblings. A reprieve came in form of her selecting her purchases and scuttling away from him.

He was in the midst of idly speculating over the fact that she had opted for a variety of selection rather than risk failing to have acquired the correct size when the residue of a strident reiatsu slammed into him at full force as she passed within range. It had been so jarring because of its obvious familiarity.

He felt stunned. He knew that reiatsu like the feel of his own shihasku pressed against his skin. He felt it nearly every day; could not fail to recognize the signature of its owner. Not when it belonged to that of his Taicho. By the time he had concluded the reality of this dizzying realization, the girl had gone, leaving Ritsu at a loss for what to immediately do.

For her part, Orihime had rushed back as best she could. She had even avoided eye contact with the convenience store clerk in order to rush things along, elucidating that she did not wish to engage in pointless small talk. The flush on her cheeks had failed to completely pale, and while a measure of it had to do with how chagrined she was to be buying contraceptives at a local convenience store, she could readily admit to herself that some of it had been induced to excitement.

Her body hungered like never before, and she yearned to satiate this strange new craving before it waned completely. She had no desire to really think; her first instinct to swiftly arrive at her destination with her important purchases in tow so that she—they—could continue where they left off. She was acting erratically and reckless…on some level, she was aware of that. But much like the enjoyment of curling up with satisfaction after a warm and delicious meal, her body begged for the ability to curl up with these new and wholly delightful sensations. Even now, she had no idea what was passing through the mind of her newly made paramour, left to brood in her absence. The greatest danger of sex, after all, is that there are other factors involved. Not the least of which are other people and their desires.

His wits had managed to catch up with him, though the physical response both the toxin and the girl had elicited had not much diminished. But there was no accounting for his feelings; they were jumbled up, so much like dried plum blossoms scattered in the wind. He didn't know what to make of them, exactly. It was only recently he had ever found himself so lost. He was unaccustomed to feeling this way. There were seldom times that he had. Rukia's near execution, in copulation with the vow to his parents' memory, had been one such experience. But this was slightly, disconcertingly different. There were no lives at stake here: merely responsibilities and disappointments. Things that tied his personal life to that of his life as the 28th Head of the Kuchiki Clan.

Hisana had been a rare case, and caused an uproar amongst the elders for her plebeian roots. While not fully supported in his decision to wed the woman from the Rukongai, acceptance had been generally met after a time for one simple reason. That being an heir could be expected. However, she had taken ill. There was no child to one day take on the leadership of the clan. It had been left vulnerable and in danger. He had always harbored a small amount of guilt for failing to provide an heir of his own bloodline. But therein lay the crux. He had no wish to marry. Hisana's death had been difficult to endure, let alone completely accept. He had no desire to feel that pain again.

Granted, Rukia was a likely candidate should anything befall him. And while he harbored no doubt that she carried a latent strength and an abundant amount of common sense, he secretly worried whether she was truly capable of leading the clan. Actually, he would have to amend the thought of her having that virtue. She had, after all, made the rash and impulsive decision of lending her powers to the Kurosaki boy. Though it could be rationalized she had only done what she had thought best at the time. Still, she generally had others best interests at heart.

His own heart had been so heavy for decades thereafter that he hadn't bothered to really look at anyone else. The unwarranted toxin had managed to push his heart out sideways, disrupting its leaden state. His body had been found wanting before his mind had managed to catch up. He didn't know what to make of things as they now stood. But of one thing he was absolutely certain: as for the girl, he did not simply wish to walk away. Whatever relationship was now between them, however thin and precarious their present situation, the dynamic had changed to the point that there was no going back.

The door clattered open, bringing with it the scent of peaches. It barely registered that the scent stemmed from the girl's favored soap used while bathing before he was upon her. She was tripping out of her shoes when the plastic of her shopping bag was torn from her fingers, and lips ravaged her neck. She emitted a squeak, which deepened into a moan at the feel of him roughly tearing open her shirt to lavish her breasts with affection. Embarrassed, but not displeased, she tugged at his hair, trying to gain his attention while gesturing to a package of condoms that had spilled onto the floor.

"Wait!...Hold on…." Reluctantly, he allowed her escape from his arms, his eyes predatory as she rifled through the packaging. Her alabaster skin glowed scarlet as she murmured, selecting a few of the thinly wrapped squares from several boxes.

"I…I'm not really sure what size you are…"her eyes shyly met his own, only to dart away at the intensity she saw there. She fumbled with the condoms, doing her best to explain while trying not to feel like an idiot. "So…one of these…has to go on your….um….member….and it catches….all that….and keeps me from becoming…yeah." Her voice trailed away, losing her bravado. She startled at the feel of his hand upon her own, as though pondering which package he would take. She noted that he took the jumbo…

"I must be sheathed in this?" At the calm timbre of his rich voice, she found her nerve, hastening to explain.

"Yes! And it must be put on correctly and without being torn. Once it's torn it's useless! And I could become pregnant." There. She'd said the word. She felt triumphant. Not noticing how his hand stilled while handling the innocuous-looking square.

"….Or else you may conceive?" She nodded vigorously, already at work detangling her clothing before enthusiastically reaching forward to tackle the insolent knot of his hakama. For those brief few seconds, he was motionless. She didn't seem to notice. The wheels of his mind were turning. The thought of her taut stomach, swollen and corpulent with his children, had made him harden even further. A feat he had not deemed possible mere minutes ago. What was more, the darkest of his thoughts whispered that he might no longer have to concern himself with worrying over no longer having an heir. Her body was succulent and willing. She was caring and kind. What was more, her talents combined with such a powerful regenerative, healing reiatsu suggested an advantage if tied to the power of the Kuchiki clan…

She grasped him suddenly, her tight little mouth coming into play, making him hiss. Her liquid gaze stared up into his own, making his heart stumble. It would be so easy…so incredibly easy. She need never know…No longer hesitating, he made his decision, tearing open the innocent bit of foil.

Orihime wasn't really one to miss school. But today, of all days, she mutinously deduced that she had the right to ditch class. It wasn't that anything was terribly wrong or had been disastrous. She wasn't too terribly sore from certain recent activities, either. It was more that she felt out of her element. Her thoughts were so full of everything that had happened that she hadn't any room to stuff in anything else. Her emotions were a kaleidoscope of anxiety, indecision, desire, and fear.

The years spent reading romantic paperbacks and shojo manga, along with hours spent in front of the television melting over romantic stories had her wondering what it was she ought to be feeling. She had always assumed, given her resources, that sex was supposed to change one as a person. Things were definitely more complicated than they had ever been, for one. Prior to her experiences, she had thought such a notion to be amorous and dreamy. Boy, had she been mistaken. She felt unprepared for the long haul, whatever that might entail.

Then there was the matter of her peers; usually she found comfort amongst them while surrounded by academia She had even gone out of her way to pack herself a rather spectacular lunch to take her mind off things. But everything felt wrong. Much like a favorite pair of shoes that had been outgrown. She felt like a paperclip; bent into a new shape only to have trouble assimilating back into the contours of her original form. It was safe to assume that, after her little mental health day, she would have little trouble keeping everything together when finally faced with Tatsuki or anyone else who came to call once the school day had been completed. She decided to claim a stomachache. Hopefully her friend wouldn't take affront at the insinuation her mother's cooking had anything to do with it. But what choice did she really have? She just didn't feel up to facing anyone right now. Tomorrow, she promised herself, I'll go to school tomorrow.

Orihime bit her lip, contemplating the unfinished art assignment. She still had artist's block. Shaking her head as if to clear it, she headed for the door. While her heart and mind felt quite full, her stomach was empty. But before starting up in the kitchen, she felt the need to get out. Maybe get some juice or something as well as some much needed fresh air. She wandered into the convenience store, feeling her cheeks heat as if returning to the scene of a crime. Thankfully, the butterflies abated once she realized there was a different clerk at the counter. Meandering toward the back, she headed toward the juice to satisfy the craving for something sweet. Perhaps apple juice. Reiatsu hit her gut like a punch in the stomach. She whirled around, senses alert. It felt unfamiliar, but unmistakably shinigami.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Inoue-san. But may I speak with you?" The handsome youth, undoubtedly the shinigami exuding the reiatsu in question, appealed with his hands open beseechingly. His dark, azure eyes exuded a vague sense of familiarity, though she was certain she had never seen him before.

"Uh…sorry, but have we met?" He smiled wryly.

"Not formally, no. But if I may, Inoue-san, this is quite urgent." Her brows puckered in confusion.

"Uh, I suppose so. Sure…can I pay for my juice, first? Before we get into…"she gesticulated, "whatever it is we need to discuss?" He nodded, his features smoothing in what she took to be light relief.

"Yes, of course. Go ahead."

"Thanks." She bobbed her head, whisking the juice in question from the cooler before heading to check out. It was odd, but she was actively trying not to get herself worked up over whatever the heck was about to happen. She made her purchase, the young man following closely at her back as they exited the store. A worn, round picnic table replete with shabby umbrella and two folding chairs sat outside for the use to costumers who wished to eat instant noodles or other procured victuals from the store. Before she managed to snag a chair, the stranger had politely pulled out her chair and settled her into it before taking his own. She sipped her juice reflectively, trying to calm her fraying nerves.

"So…um….how can I help you?"

"I have questions that need answering." She arched a brow at him, mimicking a gesture she often saw Ishida-kun perform. But she dropped it in favor of a tremulous smile.

"Might I have your name first? I mean, I feel a bit silly…since you already know mine." He inclined his head, as though appraising her.

"Of course. My apologies. My name is Kuchiki Ritsu, Third Seat of the Rokubantai, of the Juusantai." Orihime choked, neatly inhaling much of her juice at the startling admission.

"Kuchiki Taicho! Is he your—!?"

"My superior," he assured her, then added bemusedly. "and second cousin, in actual fact. That is part of the reason I am here."

"Did Rukia-chan manage to contact him?" She interjected swiftly, pretending she hadn't nearly sprayed apple juice out her nose, "She was looking for him the other day but—"

"But he was with you," he stated bluntly, "So surely you could have directed her to him." She bit her tongue, a cold dread beginning to line her stomach. She had an inkling what this might be building up to.

"Please do not deny it," he requested almost genially, "it will make things go along much smoother."

"Okay," she murmured softly, taking another steadying sip, "okay…then I won't. What do you need to know?" Ritsu looked at the shaken young woman, who was bracing herself for the worst. In a way he could not blame her. It wasn't easy to make this request, nor likely any more pleasant to have it made to oneself. For her sake, he would try to be delicate.

"I wish to know the nature of your relationship with Kuchiki Byakuya. And your motivation in being his paramour."

She was at a loss for words.

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Heat Of The Night