Long missions inherently made for long nights. And long nights made for interesting conversation.
Renji fingered the rim of the rough ceramic saucer in his palm. "Would you ever consider it, Rangiku?" he asked quietly, voice barely audible over the campfire. Even after only one cup, the nightcap he had taken was already loosening his tongue and allowing his mind to bring to light his carefully kept thoughts.
His responsibilities as a lieutenant left little room for companionship, and if anyone could as easily understand the same frustrations, it would be the woman sitting across from him. The reputable establishments in the Rukongai were fine, he supposed but impersonal which still left the redhead wanting.
"It wouldn't have ta be anything serious, I wouldn't ask that of ya." Renji sighed and ran a hand through his loose locks. "But maybe just ta pass the time, with someone you know. I wouldn't normally ask but--" A subtle flush appeared in the man's face. "Figured it wouldn't hurt ta try, I s'pose."
There was something about sweat-coaxing duty calls, ending with multiple shots of well-earned fancy booze shared between all parties involved that seemed to endorse further means of taking one's mind off whatever conscience-shaking measures they'd had to abide in the name of being efficient subordinates prior. Most of the time, it required nothing deeper than a little heartfelt chit-chat; possibly over a chaotic session of karaoke or truth-or-dare to help suppress whatever sappy, overflowing emotional mumbo-jumbo they would've spilled uncontrollably otherwise.
But in the world of a famed blonde bombshell like herself, trifling collisions of naked skins followed with unapologetic exchange of bodily fluids were the staple of such expedients. Then again, she was the Matsumoto Rangikuāand no man with healthy covetous needs would ever be shamed for their moment of weakness once the goddess' feminine charm had them bewitched. Not that she'd agree to just about any offer, however; she had a reputation to maintain, after allāand surely it was not without a reason that many remained eager to test their capability to get the beauty, quite literally, down on her knees.
"Would I ever consider it, he said," she chuckled; lips teasing the edge of her own saucer as drops of alcohol languidly trickled down the container and eventually down her throat, giving the lining of her aperture its lustful redness back in the process. "I mean, look. You are the Abarai Renji of the 6th Division. We both know men and women alike would absolutely die for a chance to see how far down your glorious abs those legendary tattoos go and watch them dance as you commit the devil's tango."
Despite the generosity of her compliments, the vixen would be lying to say she didn't find the turn of events remotely odd, given the two lieutenants' long-enduring platonic historyāyet his justification didn't sound all that nonsensical for her to go hellbent about giving the bid an immediate no, either. Still, to say the brevity of his persuasion was nowhere near enough to convince her to succumb to her rawest desires would be an understatementāespecially when the sight of their friendship at stake was too blatant for her to drown the pleading voice of her hardly-fuzzy morals.
"You don't invite someone like me to simply pass the time, though, Renji...," tangles of gold dangled in matching rhythm to the slow shaking of her head as scrumptious smirk bloomed across her front, "Dunno if you've heard about it, but I've got urges not even that temporary liquid courage of yours would dare to appease."