#byakutor

He found you in his bedroom, curled up on top of the blankets and wrapped in one of his own robes. You radiated peace, asleep with your glasses on and a forgotten book loose in one hand. Tired feet softly strode to the side of the bed where Byakuya knelt close to you and swept a tendril of hair off your face. He smiled to himself as he watched the unhurried rise and fall of your chest. Something deep in his chest beamed with adoration, with gratitude that you were right there.

Byakuya reached for your glasses and slowly removed them from your face. You stirred at the ghost-like sensation of his fingertips and you scrunched up your face before opening your eyes, immediately meeting Byakuya's with heavy lids.

"I am sorry, my love." He soothed your tired skin with the palm of his hand. "My duties kept me later than expected."

You leaned into Byakuya's hand, nuzzling into the rough skin. "No sorries please."

Byakuya chuckled, a warm and melodic sound that made your eyes flutter shut. "Alright."

For a moment he admired you quietly. This was not the first time Byakuya had come home to the sight of you snoozing like a cat in his bed, and every trace of his being willed it not to be the last. The reconstruction and healing needed following the war required very much of you both, and these nights were a balm to your souls.

You opened your eyes again, a look of tired determination washing over your features as you sat up and closed your book.

"Have you eaten?"

"I have," he said.

"Take a bath before you get in bed," you said quietly. "You'll feel better when you wake up."

He smiled again. "As you wish."

"Come here." You reached for his hair and ran lazy fingers through it, eventually reaching for the kenseikan atop his head.

It took everything in him not to close his eyes and doze off as you removed the silver pieces, massaging his scalp as you went. Byakuya leaned his head into your hand, sighing as you took such gentle care of him. Every touch of your fingers soothed an ache he hadn't noticed before. Even sitting up, Byakuya was on the edge of consciousness.

"The water is still hot," you said, softly waking him.

Byakuya couldn't remember getting up, and he couldn't remember washing or soaking in the bathtub, but still he emerged clean, warm, and heavy-lidded. You had drawn the blankets and dimmed the lights in the bedroom, turning the space into a cozy haven for the two of you to rest.

He climbed into bed wordlessly, pulling you close as his head met the pillow. You nuzzled closer still as your hand found his, draped around your waist.

"You already feel better," you whispered. "I can tell."

"Mmm," he started, "I cannot say it is from the bath."

You squeezed his hand. "I bet it is."

Byakuya sighed, too sleepy to disagree. "You are wearing my clothes."

"I took a bath before I remembered I didn't bring anything to sleep in."

A frequent occurrence of yours. Whether intentional or not, he didn't mind, but he felt a slight twinge of guilt as he pictured you ending an exhausting day of work, going all the way to your own home to grab supplies, and then travelling all the way here. He nudged the back of your head with his nose, breathing you in deep. It was a wonder you came here at all, only to fall asleep without him most nights.

"Next we are both available," he whispered. "We will bring your things here."

You melted into his embrace, muscles relaxing into full rest. "Okay."

A broad smile bloomed across your lips as you recalled the time you brought your newfound favorite snack to sparring practice for him to try. "Don't pretend you don't like them."

"If you would like to help, you may set the table." He pretended to ignore your comment, but there was no denying the amount of times you split the sweet sandwich in half to share.

Rather than prod him further, you scoured his kitchen for dishes and organized them carefully at the table in the next room while Byakuya fired up the stove, eventually filling the space with a warm, savory aroma. With the table set for two, you hopped up onto the cool stone of his kitchen counter, your feet dangling playfully as you waited. Byakuya stepped away from the stove and stopped when he saw you, haphazardly sat like you owned the place.

"This is serious business," he said, mildly exasperated.

"You're always doing serious business." You leaned back on your hands in challenge of the order he kept over his life.

A shimmer in his eye was the only detail to give up his facade of annoyance before he stepped closer, encroaching on your space as he braced his hand on the cabinet above you. Your face grew warm as his hips slotted between your knees and his gaze descended upon you. You betrayed yourself by looking at his lips.

He opened his mouth, drawing you in only a little closer. "Watch your head," he said bluntly.

Your mind screeched to a halt as you processed his words. A hot shade of red crawled up your neck as you leaned forward, allowing Byakuya to open the cabinet behind you. Any gratitude that Byakuya couldn't see your face washed away as his scent flooded your senses - lavishly clean with dizzying notes of sakura, green tea, and something wholly him.

Before you could take another breath, Byakuya vanished with his newfound ingredient and returned to his cooking. You stared daggers into his back as he worked over the flame, seemingly oblivious to the obvious effect he had on you.

Eventually your pout shifted to an expression of wonder as you watched him carefully tend to your meal. Infrequently were Byakuya's hands fully visible, often covered across the back and around his wrists with bracers. They seemed steadier, stronger than those of the boy you grew up with. The dark sleeves of his Shihakusho were rolled up and your eyes caught on the slight ripple of his forearms as he moved.

"Would you like to taste it?" Byakuya's words seemed in harmony with the gentle sizzle of the pan, so much that you didn't register the question at first.

"Hmm?" Your stomach growled as Byakuya scooped a small heap of sauteed vegetables onto a spoon, holding it out to you. Mindlessly, you opened your mouth to receive it.

Before Byakuya could think better of it, he gently fed you the carefully prepared bite. Your lips closed around the spoon before he slid it away, your eyes fluttering closed as the flavor hit your tongue. He stood motionless as you savored it, whether in awe of you or blindsided by his actions, he couldn't say.

"That," you said hungrily as you opened your eyes, "is delicious."

Byakuya blinked, turning back to the stove to hide the blooming flush on his face. "Good. It's almost ready."

You assessed the immaculate space. Each table was carefully arranged by family rank. That would have placed you somewhere in the middle, you supposed. It might be advantageous to sit down right away. With everyone gathered to the standing room, you'd have a better chance of being ignored.

In the corner of your eye a nobleman and his daughter approached someone you recognized from the Soul Reaper Academy, seated at his table. He probably had the same idea as you, which sadly backfired. You scanned the pavilion for other options.

To your surprise, you spotted who you imagined would be the most sought-after young heir at the Gathering seated by himself on a bench faced outside. Sure, his attitude wasn't the best, but you knew many young noble women here would gain an incredible advantage by marrying into the Kuchiki Clan. He was certainly the most visually appealing of the eligible nobles. Many students at the Academy spoke of Byakuya Kuchiki's looks. He was quite elegant.

Perhaps his rank was too distinguished for anyone to freely approach Byakuya. That would explain the look you received that time you informed a classmate that you had been training Zanjutsu with Byakuya in private.

Nonetheless, a gawk was better than failing in Zanjutsu, and it would certainly beat withstanding the pomp and circumstance of the Gathering. So you crossed the pavilion, narrowly avoiding families and tables alike, and sat down next to him.

You didn't give the young lord a chance to react before you huffed a breath and swiped your book from its hiding place.

"This seems to be the only quiet place here," you said, flipping your book to the spot you left off.

Byakuya didn't reply, but you noticed him in the corner of your eye adjusting his posture and shifting far too much. You lost your place more times than you wished; your field of vision snagging on him like a misprint on the page before you.

"Is there a problem?" You didn't look away from your book as you spoke.

He stilled. "You're going to make me look bad."

"Why," you started playfully, "are you afraid I will ruin your chances of betrothal?"

"I have no interest in frivolous matchmaking," he said immediately, his tone growing clipped. "It's rude to show up to a social event with a book."

You began to swing your legs, fiddling with the open page of your tome. "You should know by now that I don't quite care what these people think of me, Lordling."

The way you carried yourself at the Academy was proof enough. You were even so bold as to pull out "that book of yours" - as Byakuya often called it - during footwork demonstrations. You hardly reacted to the scolding your instructor gave you.

"I have a title to uphold," he said, fighting the impatience in his voice.

You closed your book. "It wouldn't insult me if you asked me to leave."

Byakuya didn't say anything, he simply crossed his arms in annoyance. After a moment you stood, accepting his gruff non-answer, and began to scan the room for another place to escape.

As if they were waiting for your departure, a family shuffled toward the bench, watching Byakuya with interest. You chose to ignore their presence. It wasn't your problem.

Just as your gaze found a cozy-looking spot on the other side of the pavilion, a hand closed itself around your wrist.

"Wait," he said, stopping you. "I'll keep you company." You turned to look at Byakuya in time to watch him puff up his chest. As if he were doing you a favor.

You choked on a laugh. "Are you suggesting you're better company than Human History Volume 4?"

Byakuya's face contorted between vexation and schooled politeness, and you watched, amused.

You wouldn't move from where you stood until he cracked, and at last he did; sighing deeply and looking to you for mercy. "Please?"

Content with his manners, you sat back down and stowed your book away. The observing family turned away in disappointment.

"Very well," you said, crossing your legs as you looked at him eagerly. "Let me tell you about the last chapter I read."