#(make-outs)

Marinette jolted. “O-oh,” she said, a blush coming to her cheeks.

Adrien felt his cheeks heat, as well. “And I’m… not looking forward to that.”

“What, you don’t want girls hanging all over you?” She tried to smile. She tried to keep her voice light. But it was pained.

And so was his smile. “Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly, there’s only one woman I would want that from.”

Their eyes locked, and Adrien could feel his heart pounding painfully in his chest.

Well, he sure went and smacked that elephant, didn’t he?

Marinette cleared her throat and gave his shirt one last adjustment. “There,” she said. “Um… You’re good to go.”

It hurt to smile, both his cheeks and his heart. Just like always, the moment one would toe the line, and they’d both take three steps back. “Thanks.”

She shot him a forced smile that lasted only a second before turning and leaving him to go to the make-up crew.

He didn’t go right away. He took a second to pull himself back together and kick himself. They agreed no relationship now. They agreed no relationship now.

But that didn’t stop his love of her. Didn’t stop the way his heart pounded whenever she entered the room. Didn’t stop the way he found everything from her smile to her confidence to her body extremely attractive. He couldn’t help it.

But they agreed no relationship now. Not until they were able to pull themselves together during battle.

Which, they never would. Chat could no longer not be completely affected by his lady, and Ladybug couldn’t stop worrying over him. Knowing who each other was had been much more dangerous than he thought.

As twisted as it was, Adrien wished he’d never met Marinette. It would have been so much easier to find a stranger under the mask. Having Ladybug be an incredible woman who had earned his full respect and friendly love in her own right had wrecked him.

And he knew he’d wrecked her, considering she was in love with Adrien.

It was a mess. And no matter if either of them were ready to clean it up or not, neither took any action to do so.

After mentally screaming at himself to pull it together, Adrien forced himself to head to make-up.

“So,” he began, forcing a smile on for the ladies. “What’s the plan to put lipstick all over me?” He just wanted to know what he needed to prepare for. Particularly if they were going to be all over him.

“Well,” one of the ladies said, smirk on her face. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Agreste.”

Adrien froze. Say what now?

“So, the easiest way to make you up was to give her a tube of lipstick and just have her mark you. It would be the most realistic, too.”

Girlfriend? “What?”

The girl pointed to the chair, silently directing him to sit. “Yeah. She’s so sweet. I always suspected that there was more between you two then just model and designer.”

Model and designer? He was the model, but…

Marinette?

Adrien felt like he was losing his mind. Was he teleported to a different universe where Marinette was his girlfriend?

Wait? Was she only his girlfriend here in this dimension?

Still, he was the obedient model and sat down in the chair, letting the crew do touch-up make up and spray his hair with ten different products to put it into place and make it look appropriately mused.

Now, the lipstick.

“I sent her in the back if you want to have a little quality time with her,” the head make-up artist said with a wink.

Despite his fierce blush, Adrien needed little prompting.

He found Marinette hidden in the dressing room. Thankfully, it was empty besides the two of them. She was looking though clothes on a rack, her back towards him.

He was able to sneak into the room and close the door behind her. She flinched at the soft click, half turning toward him before turning back to her work.

“So,” he began, walking up behind her and causing her to jump when he put his hands on her hips. “Girlfriend, huh?”

She sighed, her hands immediately flying up to her face and effectively muffling whatever she was trying to say.

“What?” he said, lowering his head closer to hers.

She forced her hands away from her face, clasping them together in front of her lips. “You looked really uncomfortable with the prospect of how they were going to put kisses on you,” she said, her voice quiet and shy. “Actually, you’ve looked really miserable with this whole photoshoot. And… with what you said earlier…” She trailed off, turning her face away. “I just… thought maybe I could help make it easier for you.”

“By torturing me in the process?”

She whipped her head back to look at him.

His heart was racing. She looked to be as shocked and nervous about this whole situation as he was. “Marinette, you didn’t really think that putting your lips all over me wouldn’t completely ruin me, would you bug?”

She gaped like a fish for a moment. “We can be professional.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, we can’t. And you know it.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Adrien frowned. “Won’t,” he said, his grip on her hips tightening as he pulled her a half-step back closer to him. “I’m just gonna call it out right now: we’re still in love with each other.”

Marinette’s entire body sagged at that.

He let his chin rest on her shoulder, happily relishing the feel of being even this close to her. Well, the elephant was sure addressed, now. “Bug. My feelings for you haven’t changed. And you should know that even though you told me that I better take back that ring I proposed to you with, I still have it. I’m just waiting for the time you’ll take it.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her eyes start to water, putting her on the verge of tears. “Kitty…”

“So,” he said. “That being said, I’ll repeat: if you think that I’ll be able to hold myself together while you are putting your lips all over me, think again. You’re going to ruin me, bug.”

Her blush deepened. “You…” She swallowed. “You still have the ring?” Her voice was whispery, as though she couldn’t say it any louder.

Adrien grinned. “Yeah,” he said, his heart being painfully squeezed inside his chest. “I do.”

There was nothing but silence between the two of them for a moment before Marinette snapped back to reality.

“Um…” she said, stepping out of his grasp and turning to face him. “We should get you ready.”

He sighed. “So, you’re just going to avoid it?” he asked, “Or was that a firm no?”

“It’s a ‘we have a job to do and now isn’t the time for that conversation’.”

An inkling of hope slipped through his mind. “Swear it to me?” he asked. “Swear we will talk about this later.”

Suddenly, they were chest to chest. Adrien didn’t know how that happened, but he sure wasn’t complaining.

She lifted her hand, placing it right on his heart and stopping it in the process. “I swear, Adrien.”

He smiled, warm hope at the prospect of there possibly being a ‘them’ blooming in his chest. “So,” he asked, his mind somehow reminding him of the present predicament despite it not functioning at the moment. “Are you going to kiss me? Or not?”

His heart was in his throat the moment she pulled the lipstick out of her back pocket. “Yeah,” she whispered. “So, let’s make it count.”

“My lady,” he said, his breath already coming in short pants as he watched Marinette paint her lips in a bright red color. “I’m at your mercy. Mess me up good.”

“Something tells me I don’t have to try hard.”

She was right; she didn’t.

The moment she put her hands on him, one landing on his neck and the other on his jaw, he was a goner. Completely and totally. No longer was this Adrien and Marinette at a photoshoot. This was Adrien and Marinette, period. End of story.

He let his eyes shut, not bothering to keep them open as Marinette placed her lips on him. Above the corner of his mouth. On his cheek. His jaw. His ear.

She pulled away, and he heard the click of the her opening the lipstick again. His eyes opened lazily to watch her reapply. “Where are you aiming next?” he asked.

“Why?” she said, putting the lipstick back in her pocket.

“So I can prepare.”

She smirked. “My secret.”

His knees were going to give out on him, and he was going to end up dead on the floor. In fact, he was certain that he almost collapsed when her lips landed on his throat. He gasped, every part of him dying slowly with every touch from her lips. Lips that then landed on his collarbone, then even lower on his chest.

What a sweet death.

Another application of lipstick, and her lips landed on his chest once again, his neck, his jaw, his temple. She pulled away one last time, and he heard the tube of lipstick click. He was barely able to keep his eyes open. What’s your next target, my lady?

Her hands came up to caress his cheeks, but she stopped short of his face. “Are you okay, kitty?”

“I’m dying,” he admitted. “Finish me, bug. Make it sweet.”

She giggled. “So dramatic.”

Those perfectly lips coated in a layer of red, red lipstick then landed on his lips, and all self-control went flying out the window as he grabbed her, holding her tightly and smashing their lips together.

Professionalism be damned, he was going to kiss her for all it was worth.

Her hands ran through his product-crusted hair and down his chest and then back up to hold his cheeks. His hands were everywhere on her, grabbing at her sides and arms and cheeks. Restraint just didn’t exist.

Eventually, she broke away with a gasp. Adrien himself was panting hard enough that he felt he was gonna pass out. Thank goodness he was backed against a wall because he was sure he’d fall over otherwise. But even though his legs were jelly, he was grabbing onto her for all it was worth. Just as she was holding onto him. They stood there for a moment, panting heavily, clinging to each other; a beautiful disaster.

“I… I think,” Marinette said between breaths, “You should go… and… photoshoot.”

He didn’t want to. He really didn’t want to. “Marry me.”

“What?”

He looked down at her. “You missed the previous proposal of ‘I still have the ring’ so let me spell it out for you: marry me, bug.”

She was frozen in shock. “Kitty, you can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he insisted. “I one thousand percent am. Because I can’t stand it anymore. Marry me. Be my wife.”

“Chat,” she panted. “Be reasonable—”

“That is utterly impossible for me to do when you wreck me like that,” he interrupted. “You always have wrecked me, driven me to ruin. Bug, you are my perfect partner and I’m not letting you go. I love all of you; you love all of me. Why are we not together?”

She opened her mouth, likely to argue, but nothing came out. Slowly, her mouth shut and her expression became a vulnerable one. “I… you really still have the ring? You… you’re not just going to go buy one and say it was the ring? Because I remember that ring. Vividly.”

His heart skipped. “You do?”

“It’s heard to forget when the man who holds half your heart proposes to you.”

He couldn’t help it, he kissed her again. Hard. Biting at her sweet lips just as she was nipping at his.

There was going to be no photoshoot at this rate.

“I will run home,” he said between kisses, “and grab it the instant I’m released from this photoshoot.” He kissed her again. “And then I will run to your house…” Another kiss. “And drop to my knees…” Yet another. “And beg you to be my bride. And if you say yes, I will yowl from every fricking rooftop in Paris about how excited I am that you will be my wife.”

Their wild kisses slowed to a stop, leaving Marinette clinging to Adrien once again just to stand upright. Honestly, Adrien was shocked they weren’t on the floor at this point.

Slowly, an amused smile came to Marinette’s face, one that eventually split as laughter bubbled up out of her. “You’re so ridiculous,” she said between giggles.

He just shrugged. “So what?” was all he could say.

She turned that smile on him, and Adrien felt like he could fly. “Well,” she said. “How about you come ask me properly after the photoshoot. Because…” her grin widened. “I’m gonna need a moment to process the fact I’m going to marry the love of my life.”

He yanked her into a bone-crushing hug, and she grabbed onto him, squeezing him tight. He was positively over the moon and not coming down any time soon.

“You should go,” she eventually whispered, though her hold on him barely loosened. “You’re probably holding up the photoshoot.”

He grumbled. “Fine. But only because I know you’re right.”

Reluctantly, he put her down and the duo let each other go. As hard as it was, he forced himself away from her, turning his back, making it two steps, and hearing a crash.

He whipped back around to see Marinette on the floor, holding onto the rack of clothes that was already rolling away.

“Marinette!” he called, instantly rushing back to her side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice higher than normal, something that always happened when she was embarrassed or nervous. “I mean, the love of my live just made out with me and asked me to marry him, so I’m not totally freaking out or anything. No. Not at all.”

The fear coursing through him faded quickly, leaving him a blushing, chuckling mess. He’d done this to her. She was on the floor, unable to stand because of him. He felt prideful knowing that this was her reaction to him. “Okay. As long as you’re okay.”

“Y-yeah.” She said with an awkward, crooked smile. “Just… give me a minute.”

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “Take it easy, okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured.

“You’re Ladybug. You always are.”

With another kiss to her forehead, he forced himself up and headed back to the make-up department for approval.

Once approved—the head make-up artist was looking a little too smug for Adrien’s liking—he was ushered over to actually take the photos. The photographer kept yelling orders at him, occasionally telling him to look dreamy.

That was easy. Like Adrien could think of anything but his darling Marinette, anyway. Not while he was wearing her lipstick all over his body like a brand.

Rukia glanced at the clock over the nurse’s station. 1:17p.m. 

A little later than planned, but that was Ichigo's fault, as usual. She had wanted to check in with him and make sure he was actually resting and not destroying any beloved cultural institutions before she got tied up for the afternoon. He was not, as it happens, resting. He was mostly shouting, as was his way, but at least he seemed to be staying in his bed down in the recovery ward. She felt she had left him in good hands, between Chad and Orihime. Uryuu was there, too, although he appeared to be the proximate cause of the shouting.

“Has my brother been taken into surgery, yet?” Rukia asked the harried nurse on duty.

The nurse flipped through some papers. “Who is your brother?”

“Kuchiki Byakuya? Captain of the Sixth?”

The nurse didn’t seem to care whether he was the Soul King himself. She unhurriedly located the correct chart. “Yes. He was deemed well enough to have the surgery today, and they just took him in. It should be two hours at least. If you’d like to stay, go down to Waiting Area 4C.” She pointed down the hallway without looking up.

Byakuya’s head retainer, Seike, had offered to come down and wait, in case anything went amiss during the surgery, but Rukia had insisted on coming herself. It was probably the first time she had insisted on anything since she had come to live with the Kuchikis. Byakuya had been injured saving her, though, and this was something she wanted to do. To her surprise, Seike had seemed almost...charmed by her insistence.

Was it only two days ago?

Two days ago that Rukia had nearly been executed. Two days ago that Ichigo and then her captain and then Renji and then Ichigo again had come to her rescue. Two days ago that Captain Aizen had betrayed Soul Society and escaped with two other captains in tow. Two days ago that Byakuya had taken a blade through the heart meant to take her life. 

Byakuya’s condition had been dicey the first day, Captain Unohana hovering over him casting kaidou after kaidou, hesitant to do anything more disruptive that might tip him toward the worse. He had stabilized somewhat the next day, and Unohana had declared that, unless he took a turn overnight, he was well enough to undergo surgery to repair the damage and get him back on the real road to recovery. 

Brother will be okay, Rukia kept reminding herself as she walked down the hallway, eyes scanning the hallways for Waiting Area 4C. He’s so strong, he can survive anything. This was a bit of a new feeling. She was used to thinking of her brother as "intimidating" or sometimes "downright terrifying." Being proud of him was a nice change.

Ah, there it was, the placard proclaiming "4C". But as she slid open the door, she was surprised to find the room wasn’t empty. The first thing she noticed was a pair of long legs in black hakama stretched halfway across the little waiting area. The face of the other visitor was hidden behind a copy of the Bulletin.

“Oh, pardon me,” Rukia said, ducking head. “I didn’t realize anyone was--”

“Rukia?”

 1:28pm

Rukia blinked as the copy of the newspaper lowered to reveal a face that had once been more familiar than her own, now a little older and bearing significantly more tattoos than it did in her memories. “Renji? What are you doing here?”

Her old friend rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a familiar gesture that flooded her heart with nostalgia. “Uh, same as you, I imagine. Waitin’ around to hear how the captain’s surgery goes.”

Rukia twisted her hands together. “Oh. That’s nice of you.”

“I’m his lieutenant,” Renji scoffed, as if this explained everything. 

“You’re still going to work for him?” she asked. “After all that happened?”

Renji pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Was plannin’ on it. If he’ll have me.”

Rukia glanced around the room. It really wasn’t very big. There were two banks of seats, almost like couches, on either side of the room, with a low table against the wall opposite the door, covered in out-of-date periodicals. She could either sit next to Renji or opposite him. His outstretched legs reached most of the way across the room. Self-consciously, he pulled them in, sitting up a little straighter. Gingerly, she sat down facing him. 

Why was this more awkward without a set of cell bars separating them?

He folded his newspaper and tucked it neatly in his lap. 

“How're you feeling?”

“Me?” she asked, surprised. “Fine. Tired, I guess.” Hanatarou had been by to see her the day before, and said that it looked like her body was finally starting to replenish her depleted reiryoku, which was a good sign, but it was also somewhat exhausting. “How about you? You were, uh, kinda busted up the last time I saw you.”

Renji laughed. “No kidding! All flesh wounds, though. I got to go home yesterday morning. It’s been over twenty-four hours now since I’ve been in a fight, it’s like being on vacation.” He paused thoughtfully. "At least until Captain Zaraki hears I made bankai. Then I'm really in for it."

Rukia swallowed. He'd made bankai, something only the most elite shinigami could do, and was sitting here talking about it as though it barely rated notice. Perhaps that was true, compared to everything else that had happened, but surely it was important to him. Abarai Renji, a boy of her acquaintance who once got a newt stuck in own hair, was now, strictly speaking, qualified to become a captain of the Gotei 13. She'd always known he'd be good at this.

She should say something. He helped save her life. He’d risked his career and his life for her. He’d...said some things, as well.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said cheerfully, as though he had merely strained a muscle instead of being slashed into large chunks by Aizen just a few hours after being shredded into small chunks by her own brother. Flesh wounds, indeed. "And congratulations on bankai. I'm sure no one's made the proper fuss you deserve over it, but it's a big deal." She wanted to say more. "I'm proud of you", maybe? But what right did she have, being proud of someone she wouldn't even talk to for forty years?

He looked at her curiously. "Thanks."

Rukia swallowed.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt, you certainly don’t need to entertain me.”

He looked at her, confused, then remembered his newspaper. “I’d rather talk to just about anyone than read a three-week old newspaper. And you’re not just anyone.”

Rukia’s cheeks colored. “I’ve been in jail. I don’t have anything interesting to talk about." She drummed her fingers on her knee. "You could do the logic puzzle.”

Renji laughed again. “I’m sh-- crap at those things.”

“Don’t!” she snapped.

“Huh?” He was taken aback by her sudden vehemence.

“Who do you think I am, Abarai Renji, that you would need to watch your language around me?”

He raised an eyebrow. “The lady of the Kuchikis maybe. The sister of my captain.”

“I may be those things, but I was your friend long before that, I don’t recall you ever holding back for the sake of my delicate ears. I would much prefer you continued to afford me the same respect.”

Renji’s mouth quirked up in a pleased smile. “Arright, m’lady. I’m shit at logic puzzles. You happy now, asshole?”

“They’re very simple if you have any brains at all.” She got up from her seat and sat down next to him instead, poking at his newspaper insistently. “Come on. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

 1:52pm

"There! Complete! I told you these were easy, when one is capable of basic reasoning."

She had spent a good ten minutes leaning over his arm and trying to explain how you used the numbers on the borders of the grid to determine which blocks should be blackened and which left blank, before realizing that he wasn't actually listening, just making approving noises and funny faces at her. Then she had stolen his newspaper and done it herself.

He scrutinized her work.

"What is that, a rabbit riding a skateboard?"

"It's very cute, I think. The author of the puzzle obviously has some real artistic talent."

"I think you gave up on trying to solve it and just drew a rabbit riding a skateboard."

Rukia gasped and made a shocked face. This was, of course, exactly what she had done. No one could solve these things, they were impossible. "Well, there's no solution in the back, so we'll never know shall we?" She tossed the newspaper to the side.

"Mmm," Renji agreed noncommittally.

Rukia sucked her teeth and put her hands in her lap. It occurred to her that she was sitting rather close to him.

She wondered if she should move back to the other side of the room.

There was a clock on the wall above the magazine table. They both looked at it at the same time.

 1:58pm

“Do you carry a spirit phone?” Renji asked, out of the blue.

Rukia looked back at him. “What? Of course I do. Why?”

“Well, if you didn’t want to wait around, you could just give me your number, and I could let you know if we get any news.”   

Rukia snorted. “He’s my brother and he got injured saving me. I know I’m not actually helping in any way, but it… I want to do this." She frowned. "You could go and I could let you know.”

He shook his head. “Nah, same. Also, he confiscated my keys, so I can’t get into the office, it’s not like I could get any work done.”

“He confiscated your keys?”

“Yeah. He kinda fired me. I don’t think he got any of the paperwork filled out, though, so I’m hoping he’ll either reconsider or forget about it. It was on the basis that I started a fight with Kurosaki Ichigo and lost and I feel like he doesn’t have a lot of high ground there.”

“Was this before or after he tried to kill you?” Rukia still hadn’t gotten most of the details of what Renji went through leading up to her rescue, although she'd heard about that part from Hanatarou. She supposed she could ask. They were going to be here for a while.

“Before, actually.” Renji sighed. “I probably should give you my number, in any case.”

“Why?” Rukia asked, suspicious of his motives.

“‘Cause your brother doesn’t carry a phone, so if you need to get a message to him when we’re out in the field, you can send it through me.”

“He doesn’t?” Now that he mentioned it, she had certainly never seen Byakuya with one. He also tended to use Hell Butterflies for even the most trivial communications.

“You didn’t know that?”

“He doesn’t talk to me. At least he didn’t used to. Things might be different now.”

“Mmm,” Renji agreed. He started reciting numbers.

“Hold on, hold on!” Rukia exclaimed, pulling out her phone. She had already started making a new contact before realizing that she hadn’t actually agreed to this. Not that she objected, his rationale made perfect sense. It just wasn't right, Renji tricking her into doing things. She glared at him over the top of her phone.

“1-1-3-8,” he repeated the last few digits, his face a portrait of innocence.

“Okay, I’m going to text you now, so you have mine. In case you need to reach him when he’s at home.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“He would love it. ‘Oh, my devoted lieutenant, Text Messaging me in his Leisure Hours,’” Rukia intoned over her typing.

Renji rolled his eyes, and glanced down at his phone. He blinked.

“Thanks for not giving up on me,” she had sent.

He looked back up at her and smiled. “No problem.”

 2:10pm

“They have tea down by the nurses’ station. I’m gonna go get some. You want me to get you one?”

“Yeah, sure,” Rukia agreed. 

She watched him stretch his back as he left, accompanied by an array of painful-sounding pops and cracks. Served him right for being so stupidly tall.

She wondered if he had ever learned how to make tea properly.

 2:16pm

“One tea bag makes one cup. They’re portioned that way.”

“We're not poor anymore, Rukia. We don't have to live like that.”

When he had returned, Renji had sat back down on the other side of the room, so they were facing each other once again. He took a sip of his tea, even though Rukia knew it was still brutally hot. 

“No. That’s not how it works," she tried once more. "More tea bags do not make it better.”

“If it’s bad, it’s because they don’t keep the water hot enough. Maybe you should leave the bags in a little longer to make up for it.”

“That’s not-- you know what? It’s fine. Thanks for the tea. It’s great.” Rukia blew on hers, icing her breath just a bit before she took a sip. It tasted the way a shakkahou smelled. This was exactly like being in jail again.

 2:24pm

Renji appeared to be checking his texts. “So, what are the rules for texting you?” he asked without looking up. “Byakuya pass-through only, or can I hit you up when I’m looking for someone to go out for a drink with?”

“I don’t go out much.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He was no longer looking at his phone, but watching her with a look that she had never seen on his face before. It was appreciative, but nonchalant, with just a hint of Rukongai swagger. Was he… flirting with her? Impossible. The Renji of her youth had zero game. Had he acquired game? It had been forty years, he must have been doing something with his time besides lifting weights and getting tattooed.

“You can text me if you want. I can’t promise I’ll text back. I’ll tell you if you start getting obnoxious.”

“Deal.” He thought for a moment. “You aren’t seeing anyone these days, are you?”

She almost choked. “Me? No. Not even a little bit.” The only people who were interested in her were thirsty nobles trying to get into her brother’s good graces and Ichigo’s gross friend Keigo. She stared back at Renji, and very blatantly looked him up and down, keeping a stony scowl on her face the whole time. He’d always been good-looking growing up, but now he was downright hot. He’d finally filled out all that height with muscle, accented by those little glimpses of his tats you got around the edges of his shihakushou. “How ‘bout you?” she threw back.

He seemed to find all this very amusing. “Naw, not right now.”

“Why not?” She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. “Look at you. Any girl in the Gotei would go out with you. Half the guys, too.”

He shrugged, and gave her a look that positively smoldered. “There’s someone I’m a little hung up on.”

 2:26pm

Rukia fisted her hands into the cloth of her kimono. “What the hell, Abarai Renji?”

He blinked and sat up abruptly.

“You are flirting with me, aren't you? Or is this just how you are with everyone, now? With all your… your… tallness and good delts and… and... strong jawline?”

"I dunno! You've been flirting with me this whole time!"

"What?! I most certainly have not!"

"Are you kidding?" He started ticking off on his fingers. "You showed off at something you aren't actually good at and then bragged about it, you invaded my personal space, and you criticized me when I did something nice for you. Just now, you checked me out in a weirdly aggressive way. I mean, that's obviously not how normal people flirt, but you might've well handed me a note that says, 'Do you like me? Circle yes or no.'"

Rukia took a deep breath and screwed up her face.

Renji leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “And before you start stammering out excuses, I'll just tell you: Yes. I. Do.”

They sat in a hospital waiting area, across from one another, leaning forward, in absolute silence. 

 2:28pm

“Um. Ummm,” Rukia managed. 

This wasn’t a surprise, not exactly. She could pretend that they hadn't said those things to each other as he carried her away from Soukyoku Hill, that she hadn't ended up crying all over his kosode like a dumb baby. That she hadn't noticed the hitch in his voice when he promised, to her and her alone, that he would never let her go, right before he tightened his hand on his sword and used what he thought was his last breath to scream his defiance at Aizen. These things had happened though, and they both knew it.

That's how things went between Renji and Rukia. They had a long history of keeping their feelings jarred up and left to ferment deep in the basements of their souls. Sometimes, one of them would say something just a little too heartfelt or there would be some physical contact that lasted just a bit too long and they would ignore it and go on with their lives , because what else were you supposed to do?

Talk about it, apparently, although Rukia didn't recall agreeing to this.

“I wasn’t real honest with you about my intentions when we were younger,” Renji was saying. “And I don’t think it turned out too good for either of us. Maybe this is a good chance to start things off on a different foot. I think you’re real cute and cool as hell and I can’t imagine anything better than being with you, if that’s something you’d be up for.”

Rukia’s mouth fell open. “You...and me?” she managed, trying to sound skeptical. It was a little bit difficult with her idiot brain flailing, 'He thinks I'm cute?' in the background.

“We used to be a pretty incredible team.”

Well, there was no denying that. 

“Things are different now. You’re a vice captain. I’m, uh, noble. I guess.”

“You guess,” he echoed, rolling his eyes.

“How would it even work?” she grumbled.

Renji shrugged. “I’ve thought about that. I’ve thought about that a lot, as it happens, over the years. It’s intractable. Nearly impossible. And in the last week, a human kid busted his way through Squad 11, your brother, and one of the most powerful magical artifacts in Soul Society. I committed treason. Three captains defected to Hueco Mundo. So my definition of 'impossible' has shifted a little, and uptight people bitchin’ about who I smooch doesn't cut it anymore.”

“Oh, you want to smooch now?”

Renji leaned back, stretching his arms up and resting his head on his interlaced fingers. "You act like you've never smooched anyone before, which I know ain't true. There's no reason to make a big deal outta this. It's not like I suggested we start coming up with combination zanpakutou attacks, I just asked if you'd like to get a maybe-more-than-friendly drink sometime."

"That's bullshit," Rukia snapped.

 2:32pm

"Excuse me?" Renji replied coolly.

"I know you, Abarai Renji! You don't even know what my sword does and you've thought about combo attacks, admit it!"

His ears turned a little bit red, and Rukia was pleased to finally have him on the ropes. "I do so! I read your file when I got sent to arrest you and your zanpakutou sounds rad as hell, do you blame me?"

"That's--" she started to exclaim, "--kind of sweet, actually."

Renji smiled hopefully.

"Ichigo says your bankai's big enough that a person could reasonably ride around on it?"

"Yeah, he was too busy to try, though, so you can have first crack if you want it."

"Stop trying to sucker me in!" Rukia protested, but it was clear from her voice that her heart wasn't quite in it.

"I'm not," replied, leaning back on his hands again and closing his eyes. "I just like you. When you're done being defensive and decide if you like me back or not, let me know, okay?"

Rukia was silent.

She considered some facts.

Fact #1: Young Renji, at his best, was one of the most excellent people she had ever had the privilege of knowing. 

Fact #2: Renji, in his Academy days, had been a real shit.

Fact #3: Rukia had recently had occasion to spend a bunch of time with some teens. It turned out that a lot of teens were real shits. Some teens even managed to exist as both a real shit and an excellent person at the same time.

Fact #4: Shithead Academy Rukia would have been absolutely over the moon if Shithead Academy Renji had told her he liked her. Utterly ecstatic. 

Fact #5: Vice-Captain Renji seemed to be a marked improvement over Shithead Academy Renji.

Fact #6: Rukia had spent a long time closing herself off from other people. Frankly, it had sucked.

Fact #7: Some jerks, some real shits, had recently wormed their way past her defenses and tricked her into being friends with them. Frankly, it had ruled.

Maybe it was time to let someone in again. Maybe Renji was a really good someone to start with.

 2:35 pm

Rukia stood up and strode across the room, which took all of four steps, even for her.

"Listen up, dumbass," she announced. 

He cracked open one eye.

"Here's how it is: I might like you. I haven't decided yet. You're kinda hot, and I respect that. You used to be a pretty good guy once in a while, so I'm giving you a chance, but that doesn't mean you get a free ride on past good behavior, you got that?"

He'd opened the other eye by this time, and they'd both gone a bit wide. He dropped his arms to his sides and sat up a bit straighter.

"None of this is because you rescued me, is that clear? You didn't even rescue me, really, more like ruined what was shaping up to be a pretty good execution."

"Technically, Ichigo ruined your execution."

"That's absolutely correct, and I expect you to stick to that." She put one hand down on either side of his head, looming down over him as much as her four feet, nine-and-a-half inches would allow. "We are absolutely coming up with combo attacks, starting immediately. When we fight Aizen, I get to stab him first. I will never make you come to noble stuff, but I'll get you in if that's something you're interested in. I can't speak for what Brother makes you do. I get veto power over all nicknames. You will let me wear your pink bathrobe whenever I want." She thought for a moment. "I reserve the right to add more things later."

She stared into his eyes, waiting.

"Is that it?"

"That's it."

He nodded. "I accept."

 2:38pm

She kissed him.

 Still 2:38pm

He kissed her back.

 2:41pm

Rukia had expected to surprise him and then tease him for getting flustered.

She had not expected to kiss him long enough for her neck to start to get stiff. This was not a problem she usually encountered.

She certainly could have stopped kissing him. 

That seemed extreme.

Instead, she hitched up her kimono and hefted one knee and then the other up onto the chair on either side of his legs and settled down in his lap, moving her hands to a less threatening position on the back of his neck. Renji sighed contentedly and slid his hands to her hips.

 2:43pm

Rukia placed her hands onto his shoulders and slowly pushed herself backwards, until she could see Renji's face again.

The first time she had ever kissed him, under the old dead tree outside their squat in Inuzuri, he'd made a face like he'd just been whacked over the head with a tree branch.

The last time she'd kissed him, drunk, around the burned down coals of a bonfire celebrating the end of their first semester at school, he had gazed at her with such longing and affection in his eyes that she almost didn't recognize him.

He'd gotten some practice since then, that much was obvious. She liked the look in his eyes right then: It had a little of that boyish longing and affection and a little bit of being hit over the head with a tree branch, but it had a number of other things in there she didn't quite recognize, too. A little Squad 11 ferocity? The rampant self-esteem of a newly minted vice-captain? Just a dash of stone-cold lust, the look that a grown-ass man gave a woman he was enjoying having in his lap?

"I don't even know you anymore," she murmured. "How am I supposed to know if I like you or not?"

"I'm mostly the same," he promised.

"I might be into the new you."

"I'm very different. Whole new guy."

"I think," Rukia said, tilting her head to one side, "I might be interested in finding out."

 2:43pm

Kissing again.

 3:18pm

Whack! Whack!

"Ow!"

"There is no--" Whack! "--making out--" Whack! "--permitted in the Coordinated Relief Station!"

"Isane--ow!--stop!"

"Oh, Rukia, is that you?"

"Yes."

Kotetsu Isane, lieutenant of the Fourth Division, tapped her rolled up newspaper in the palm of her hand as the two disheveled shinigami before her sat up and adjusted their clothing. "Rukia, I would have thought better of you! Then again, you do hang out with my sister, whose bad habits-- Lieutenant Abarai?"

"Present," he groaned.

Isane looked at Rukia with wide eyes. "Well done," she mouthed, before clearing her throat. "You will both be happy to hear that Captain Kuchiki's surgery went very well.”

“Great!” Rukia chirped, casually fishing something out of her sleeve. She stared at it in befuddlement for a moment before recognizing it as Renji's bandana and thrusting it at him.

“Can we see him?” Renji asked, trying to grab the bandana back without actually looking at it. He kept missing.

“He’s still heavily sedated,” Isane explained. “It will be a while before he’s ready for visitors.”

“Gosh,” said Rukia. 

“How long we talkin’?” asked Renji.

 7:40pm

Rukia listened very carefully, nodding at appropriate times, as Captain Unohana explained Byakuya’s status and the details of his recovery regimen. Occasionally, on the topic of restricted activity, the gentle doctor would glance back and make steely eye contact with Renji, who would take over on nodding duty. They paused outside of Byakuya’s room. “One last thing. Due to his unusually high spiritual energy, we had to give him a...lot...of painkillers.”

“Ahhhh,” said Rukia. 

Renji looked confused.

“He may act a little strange,” Unohana clarified.

“I’ve been on a pretty heavy load of those a time or two myself,” Renji frowned. “Never had a problem.”

Unohana’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline and she rolled her eyes so hard that in another part of the Seireitei, Zaraki Kenpachi sat up a little straighter. Renji did not appear to notice. “Of course, Lieutenant.”

Rukia looked at Renji as Unohana went into Byakuya's room to check some of his vitals. “This is good actually. I’ve seen him on these a time or two before. He’s utterly cuckoo, but he thinks he’s fine, so if we can get him to agree to anything--like not firing you--he’ll remember it later and think he made the decision rationally.”

“That sounds...underhanded.”

“It’s how I got him to sponsor that Gotei 13 Eurovision thing the Women's Association put on last year."

"Squad 11 got robbed in that, by the way. You need to never mention it around my friend Ayesegawa."

It gave Rukia a bit of a warm feeling in her stomach, that he was already thinking about introducing her to his friends. She couldn't imagine how terrible his Squad 11 friends were. She couldn't wait to meet them.

 "I will remember that. But in any case, these are rare opportunities. We're basically obligated to take advantage of them. Trust me.”

Unohana reappeared, having finished her business. "He's all yours," she said, gliding down the hallway.

Byakuya was sitting up in bed, poking at a tray of food. His face was pale and drawn, his hair uncharacteristically non-silky, but he was most definitely making a very Byakuya facial expression.

“Helloooo, Brother!” Rukia said cheerfully, walking into the room. 

He looked at her, slightly lost for a moment.

“It’s me. Rukia. Your little sister.”

An extremely non-Byakuya-like smile spread across his face. “Kuchiki Rukia! My beloved sister!”

“How do you feel, Brother?”

“Horrid,” Byakuya replied. “Also, they have given me this slop. I would like to throw it out the window, but I cannot reach. Could you do that for me?”

“I’m sorry to say that you should eat as much as you can. You need to regain your strength.”

Byakuya made an extremely petulant face.

“Guess who else came to see you!” Rukia waved at the doorway.

A little hesitantly, Renji stepped into the room. “Hey, there, Captain. Glad to see you looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

“Abarai Renji! My loyal lieutenant! You may have forgotten, but I do not have a tail!”

“I did not forget, sir.”

“Kuchiki Rukia! Do you see this? Abarai Renji, my indomitable second, a man who fought by my side in the War for the 79th Bridge--”

“That was 800 years ago, neither of us was alive then.”

“--has come to see me! During his Leisure Hours!”

Rukia gave Renji a Look.

“Abarai Renji! If you are still the man you were when we stormed the Demon Realms together--”

“We definitely didn’t.”

“--you will throw this tray of food out the window for me!”

Renji walked over, grabbed the tray of food, opened the window, and hurled it out. There was a far-off thump and an indignant shout. Renji shut the window again.

“Renji!” Rukia hissed.

“He’s my captain," Renji shrugged. "It was a basically reasonable request. In the grand scheme of things."

“Truly, I chose wisely when I named you general of my armies and proclaimed that your family shall heretofore be a branch family to my own!” 

“You don’t have any--” Renji gave up. “To be honest, Captain, I really just want to know if I’m still fired or not.”

Byakuya lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “I will never fire you. You are my favorite.”

“That’s great news, sir. Thank you. At some point, I would appreciate it if you would give me the keys to the office back, but no hurry on that.”

“How fares the Manor, Rukia?” Byakuya asked grandly.

“Oh, it will run smoothly without you for a few days more, but everyone has been worried, Brother. They will be very happy to hear how well you are recovering.”

“I am counting on you to fill in during my absence,” Byakuya informed her. “If anyone does not afford you the proper respects, write their name down, and I will kill them once I am recovered.”

“That’s--" Rukia paused suddenly. "Do you mean servants, or other nobles? Because Lord Noragashi was by yesterday and he was very salty to me about you not being at home.”

“I will kill him,” Byakuya swore.

“Or you could… just not go to his next party or something.”

“Or I could attend and be handsomer than he!”

“Sure. Sure, that sounds good.” Rukia licked her lips and glanced at Renji, who nodded slightly.  “We have some other news for you, as well, Brother,” Rukia said gently.

Renji sucked in a deep breath and held it.

“Renji and I are seeing each other.”

Byakuya looked at Rukia very seriously, his eyebrows beetling. Then he looked at Renji. Then back at Rukia. “You are not seeing Kurosaki Ichigo, then?”

Rukia looked vaguely stricken. “Uh, no, Brother. Certainly not.”

“But you are seeing Lieutenant Abarai Renji? Vice-Captain of the Sixth Division?

“Yes, that one.”

“My faithful adjutant! Who has served me without question for over fifty years!”

“Six weeks. Sir.” Renji elected not to mention the treason.

“Come here, Abarai.” He tried to motion with his finger, but couldn’t summon the fine motor control. Renji came over anyway. “Closer.” Renji leaned down, glancing briefly at Rukia. “Attend me well, Abarai Renji,” Byakuya said in the same loud whisper that Rukia could hear perfectly clearly from across the room. “I have not always done right by my sister, but I have resolved to do so in the future.”

Rukia’s cheeks colored.

“It seems that she likes you.”

“She’s giving it a go, sir.”

“And it is self-evident that you like her.”

“That’s very true, sir.”

“And you are very much not Kurosaki Ichigo.”

“That is also very true.”

“So I shall accept this development and not require you to best me in combat. I suspect that, at this exact moment, you might actually be capable of doing so.”

“It’s possible,” Renji speculated.

“But I shall require your regular attendance at Sunday dinner.”

“With all the aunts?” Rukia asked, eyebrows raised.

“Withstanding the aunts is what it means to be a Kuchiki!” Byakuya proclaimed.

“For Rukia’s sake, I will do it,” Renji promised.

“Welcome to the family, my beloved son-in-law!”

“I’m not--”

“Let’s just count this as a win,” Rukia suggested. 

Renji smiled hopefully at her. It was, in Rukia's opinion, a very cute smile.

Rukia smiled back. She couldn't help it.

This was going to be an adventure.