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Kenpachi was irritated. Then again, Kenpachi was almost always irritated so that was really nothing new. This time he was irritated because Ikkaku had the gall to accuse him of something so foul, so unforgivably heinous, that he had no other alternative than to punch that bald motherfucker right in the throat.
The accusation? That Kenpachi was--get this--in love with Byakuya.
Love? Just contemplating that ludicrous word sent a bolt of rage through the large man. The nerve of that chrome dome prick. Just because Kenpachi and Byakuya had sex, and a whole damn lot of it, didn’t mean that they were going to start reading each other poetry and braiding each other’s hair, or whatever other ridiculous shit he assumed guys did when they had feelings that extended past their dicks. And yeah, okay, maybe their arrangement had evolved beyond penetration to non-sex things like actually talking (Kenpachi even knew Byakuya’s last name now!) and going out to eat because Byakuya thought that ordering in pizza was somehow beneath him, and seeing the occasional movie where Kenpachi always loudly threatened to annihilate anyone who spoke during the film. And maybe Kenpachi finally broke down and bought a new couch because he knew that Byakuya hated the old one (though that never stopped him from wanting to get fucked on it, go figure). But love? Hell no! Love was for girls and wimps, not for Kenpachi Zaraki. Fuck that bullshit.
“Kenpachi.”
Kenpachi snapped back to reality and blinked at the man sitting beside him. “What?” he growled.
Byakuya looked up from his book. “You’ve been ranting under your breath for the past ten minutes. What is this about braiding hair?”
“Nothing. Read your goddamn book.”
While Byakuya resumed reading, Kenpachi glared at the television as if it had wronged him. He was still fuming and wanted desperately to punch something. But since Ikkaku had run off to see Feather Boy--who would undoubtedly shove something down his throat to ease his pain--he was left to stew in his anger.
“So...” Byakuya calmly turned a page before speaking again. “You’re in love with me.”
Kenpachi’s eye started twitching. He turned and stared at his lover’s smug, gorgeous face and was only barely able to suppress the urge to destroy the world and everything in it when he felt something warm and fuzzy and utterly repulsive stirring in his chest.
“... Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”
Byakuya leaned back against the arm wrapped reluctantly yet possessively around him, his lips curved upward ever so slightly.
“Don’t worry,” he reassured him. “Your secret is safe with me.”