#urashin

Hirako’s wide, toothy smile was gone, his lips parted as he let out a quiet hiss. Both his wrists were pinned down to the tatami, firmly held in Captain’s Urahara larger, stronger hands.

Their lips were inches apart, glossy with kisses and sake. Shinji’s lower lip was red and slightly swollen, Urahara’s bite had left a little mark there. But even after the bite, Hirako didn’t quite try to push him away or scold him.

Urahara must have taken Shinji’s submission as a permission to continue, that was why his other hand slipped with such confidence under the man’s black hakama. Hirako’s legs parted, encouraging the touch. His lips parted even wider, as though he expected yet another kiss. But Urahara didn’t intend to oblige. He lowered his head, focusing on Shinji’s throat. His teeth found the other man’s Adam’s apple. The bite tore a haunting gasp from Hirako’s mouth.

The two Captains were getting reckless, and the scene appeared too intimate for the prying eyes.

Yet Sōsuke kept watching, absorbing every detail from the safety of his favorite Bakudō – Kyokkō.

It was a good thing he had followed his Captain tonight. Had he not, he would never have witnessed such a revealing display of vulnerability and instinct. The moment Shinji had caught Kisuke’s hand and sipped from his cup, Aizen had actually considered leaving the two to their little game. However, the discomfort of watching such obvious seduction got mixed with something darker that grew inside him, raised and finally resurfaced.

How dare his Captain take the gift from him and come to share it with Kisuke Urahara?

Aizen had selected that bottle of sake with far more precision than the occasion required, and yet his precious Captain hadn’t even considered inviting him to sample it. The sense of injustice, perhaps unreasonable, quietly continued to eat at Aizen’s mind. He stayed and watched the scene unfold. Just as he had predicted, the Captains’ behavior quickly became deeply improper. It was escalating further with every kiss and bite.

The two hadn’t even moved deeper into the room, staying in front of the open backdoors that led to the inner garden. Hidden under the spell, Aizen stepped closer to the engawa – close enough to hear every whisper and catch every moan.

It annoyed him. The fact that these images and these sounds pricked at something raw and aching inside his own body. He kept watching, of course, he wouldn’t miss such an opportunity to see the two of his important enemies locked together in a fit of primal, animistic heat. However, he soon discovered with a painful certainty that he himself wasn’t fully immune to bodily urges. His fists clenched on their own as he observed his Captain’s lustful body squirming under Urahara’s touch.

Why did it have to be Urahara? The only man who could possibly match Aizen’s own brilliance?

He blamed it on sake; the carefully chosen gift was supposed to grant him at least one cozy evening with his distrustful Captain. Instead, it was used against him in the most cruel way – introducing his rival into their private game.

A wave of something hot, something that Aizen couldn’t recognize right away, spread beneath his ribs like a sealing Kidō. It sparked a dangerous thought: what if this was on purpose? What if his Captain had somehow deciphered his interest in Kisuke Urahara’s research?

Was it even remotely probable that the two men had known he would be watching them tonight? Were they doing those things just to make him feel that way? This made no sense from a logical standpoint, Aizen understood that.

Still, deep down the unsettling sensation didn’t disappear. It thrived, whispering nonsense in the back of his head. He pressed his lips together as he watched Urahara stroking Hirako. His own body responded to that spicy image.

He didn’t know exactly which one of them he would gladly switch places with, if he only could. The urge to touch himself ran through his veins, and he had to suppress it before it took hold.

This devious sake always brought to the surface people’s worst impulses.

Aizen avoided drinking. Yet he felt drunk on his own unfulfilled desire.

Shinji hummed low in his throat, enjoying Kisuke’s attention. His head turned to one side, his eyes falling right at the spot where Aizen stood, hidden.

“How long are ya plannin’ to watch?”

It took Aizen a second to process the words, and another to evaluate his situation.

His breath caught in his chest as he stood frozen in place. How long… How long had his Captain known he was there?

Urahara paused his caresses as well, now staring at the exact spot right outside the room. It was hard to tell if he was surprised or not because he wore the same sly smile as before.

“Well, this is awkward,” the man said lightly, trying to make himself sound embarrassed, but his body language contradicted his statement. He seemed perfectly confident, and not ashamed in the slightest. “You can come out now, Lieutenant Aizen,” he added in a lighthearted tone. “We won’t be mad.”

So it was a game after all, the one designed to mock him. Aizen was skilled at playing all sorts of mind games – that was the sort of challenge he never backed away from.

He released the spell, making himself be visible. Then he sank into a deep, respectful bow.

“Captain Hirako, Captain Urahara,” he said quickly, faking nervousness. “Please accept my sincere apologies for disturbing you. I was just…”

“Save yer lies for someone who falls for them, Sōsuke,” his Captain interrupted. He sounded irritated but not half as dangerous as he usually did. His narrow eyes swept across Aizen’s body, lingering especially on his lower part. “I know exactly what ya were doin’. If ya like watchin’ so much… why don’tcha come closer. Bet Kisuke wouldn’t mind.”

Urahara only smiled at that – a smile that wasn’t innocent at all.

“Should I bring another cup?”

“No need,” Hirako replied, not even waiting for Aizen’s decision. “My holier-than-the-Soul-King lieutenant doesn’t drink,” he explained with a barely concealed disdain. “He only pretends he does when he thinks I’m watchin’.”

His Captain’s gaze lingered obnoxiously long on the spot where Aizen’s hakama was pressing too tightly to the bulge underneath. Painfully aware of his arousal, or rather of how visible the evidence was, Aizen clasped his hands in front of himself. A gesture that might pass as modesty. The truth was, he experienced no shame – not in the usual sense. If anything, he felt mild irritation over the loss of control over his own body, and over the perception the others had of him.

He blinked twice, putting on the act of the good-lieutenant and trying his best to sell the innocent look. But inside he was buzzing with pure, undiluted thrill. It was very exciting because their offer was real. And he was going to take them up on it just to test how far this would go.

“Captain, do you mean it?” he asked meekly, not moving an inch from his spot.

“I told ya to quit playin’ dumb,” Shinji huffed. His cheeks were visibly flushed either from frustration or the alcohol in his veins.

Urahara had released his wrists by now so Hirako lifted himself from the tatami, resting on his elbows. However, his swollen erection still rested in the other Captain’s hand. Aizen pretended not to stare but his Captain beckoned him with a tilt of his head.

“Get in here,” the man ordered. “And not another lie. Consider this yer lucky day.”

Without prolonging the hesitant act, Aizen slowly climbed up the engawa and entered the room. He sat down next to Shinji’s head, on the opposite side of Kisuke Urahara.

Urahara didn’t acknowledge him with so much as a glance, his eyes stayed low – focused entirely on Shinji’s body. This little detail pricked at Aizen’s pride, not strongly but enough to be registered as internally disrupting.

The Captain of the Twelve resumed his rhythm – a smug smile on his face, and a chilling sense of control in his every stroke. His steady hands made Hirako’s back arch instantaneously. Aizen observed, absorbing the scene and learning as he watched.

His own fingers twitched involuntarily, driven by the impulse to touch his Captain’s head, his smooth hair, his flushed face. He subdued that instinct. It was too soon to engage – he would rather wait for the right moment, for the perfect opening.

“Feeling a bit adventurous, aren’t we, Hirako-san?” Urahara murmured, enjoying the other’s responsiveness and frivolity. “So… what’s between the two of you?” he asked lightly, almost as an afterthought.

“Nothing,” Aizen told him, perhaps a little too quickly to be considered genuine.

“Mind yer own business, Kisuke,” Shinji for once actually agreed with him, his lips twisting in a sour grimace of displeasure.

“Curious way to put it.” Urahara grinned. “Considering I’m taking care of your business right now.”

Shinji didn’t smile at that, only clicked his tongue. “Tsk. Very funny… Now, do me a favor and use that clever mouth of yours for somethin’ other than tellin’ lame jokes.”

Hearing that request spoken so plainly made Aizen’s own erection twitch beneath the fabric. Even more so as Urahara lowered his head and stuck out his tongue for a tentative taste.

His hand twitched again, but he pressed it back down.

Urahara playfully teased his Captain, licking the tip as though he never intended to go any further. It caused Shinji’s hand to snap down to the sandy-blonde hair in a desperate attempt to force the other to take him deeper.

The Captain of the Twelve didn’t indulge him, instead, he brushed his smiling lips against the reddened tip. It could be read as a gentle kiss. But it was delaying the pleasure, it was a display of who was really controlling the game.

A thought arrived, sudden and visceral, telling Aizen that he should have been in charge. He was surely better at this than Urahara. He could make Shinji moan, begging for more.

This time he let his hand move from his lap. Slowly, it reached toward his Captain’s face. His thumb brushed lightly against Hirako’s lower lip – a touch as brief as a summer breeze.

Then he pressed harder; his thumb came to rest against the soft pink of Shinji’s mouth. It forced those narrow lips apart. His Captain grunted, but didn’t stop Aizen, didn’t even flinch under the intrusion.

Aizen savored the sensation under his fingertip, feeling the softness and warmth of the lips that had told him to stay away so many times before. He waited patiently for Urahara’s next move, and when he made it – finally taking Shinji deeper – only then Aizen pushed his thumb inside, entering the wet warmth of the mouth.

His dear, filthy Captain sucked on his finger greedily and kept letting out the most wanton sounds. After a few moments of repetitive motion, the game began to bore him, so Aizen decided to replace his thumb with his index and middle finger. The angle he used forced Shinji’s mouth wide open. The drool pooled at the corners of Hirako’s mouth. The sight of his Captain swallowing his fingers triggered a pleasant tingling between Aizen’s legs.

He pulled out his fingers, testing how sticky they had become; a string of saliva stretched between them like a spider’s web. His eyes never left Hirako’s as he brought his hand closer to his own face. Then he licked the saliva off his fingers.

A faint taste of sake spread across his tongue. He closed his eyes, just for a second, imagining it was his Captain’s mouth that he was tasting.

Shinji’s lustful voice snapped him back to reality.

“Hey, Sōsuke.”

The words came out raspy, and this unusual roughness in his Captain’s tone did strange things to Aizen’s self-control.

“Ya look like you’re dyin’ to taste me,” the man said mockingly. But everything about this situation meant that it was absolutely no joke.

Sprawled across the tatami, with his long hair spilled around his head like a stain of gold, Shinji seemed vulnerable in the most tempting way.

“Come closer. I might let ya,” he baited.

It was enough for Aizen to dive right into this challenge.

Dipping his head low, he claimed his Captain’s lips. His tongue once again found the taste of sake.

Hirako moaned into their kiss, perhaps caught off guard by his possessive side that Aizen let slip into that action. Seconds had passed, but none of them wanted to break the contact. Neither one pulled away. Their tongues collided in a fierce exchange much like blades in a violent battle.

When they finally broke apart, Shinji looked like a mess, and Aizen felt his own face grow hot in an uncontrolled, ugly manner. He turned his gaze toward Urahara who seemed to take a break from pleasuring Hirako. Their eyes met for the first time tonight and Aizen’s excitement rapidly spiked.

Kisuke Urahara looked at him with his full attention, and the sheer force of this gaze sent chills down Aizen’s spine. Because unlike Hirako’s, these eyes pinned him down, shimmering both with desire and fascination. They lacked the emotional fire that his dear Captain could provide. Instead, they offered something colder – something that Aizen recognized, as though he was staring at his own reflection.

It was effortless dominance and constant calculation barely concealed behind those gray irises.

“My turn,” Urahara said slyly, his hand already reaching for the edge of Aizen’s collar.

His rough fingers curled against the soft fabric and pulled him in until their mouths crashed together in a forceful kiss. Urahara’s tongue forced itself past Aizen’s lips, and Sōsuke was able to taste more than just sake this time. This time… it was the flavor of Shinji’s cock.

Without closing his eyes, he gave in to that kiss, letting Urahara set the pace and the angle. The warm, intoxicating sensation that must have felt like being drunk washed over his body from the inside.

The direction in which the events were heading, made him think that, indeed, it was his lucky day.

The only problem was, Sōsuke Aizen didn’t believe in luck.