[identity profile] sureasdawn.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] kinkfest
Title: Your Secrets, My Secrets
Author: [livejournal.com profile] sureasdawn
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: July 16th - Bleach, Renji/Rukia; Confessions (revelation of love/desire; of other secrets; truth or dare games. deathbed confessions; revealing truths when feverish)- She really was stupid sometimes.
Word count: 1582
Summary: When Rukia admits she's been discussing intimate details about him to her friend, Renji convinces her to never do it again.
Warnings: Talking about sex-related things in bed.
A/N: Yep, late again. Written under the assumption Renji & Rukia are already together in some capacity. Hope OP likes. Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite.



“Insatiable woman,” said Renji, as Rukia started tugging his kimono open further. Her carefully manicured hands were all over him, stroking and tickling, trying to get him worked up all over again like she did when they got up that morning.

“It's okay to have sex more than once a day, Renji,” she teased.

He made a rude noise at her. It was late and he was exhausted. “You didn't have your brother breathing down your neck all day over something that wasn't your fault. I bet Ichigo's girlfriend doesn't give him this kind of grief.”

Rukia laughed, and pushed him onto his back on their futon. “Of course she does. I have it from just such a reliable source, that he refuses to sleep naked now because she woke him up once by going down on him.”

“You're joking,” he said, snickering. “She tells you that sort of stuff?”

“Well yes. And little things - too sometimes I don't even ask she just tells me. Like that he has a mole, right there,” she said, leaning back and poking him in the groin, “on the inside of his thigh.”

Renji's eyes widened and he sat up on his elbows. “What the hell - like I want to know that! You didn't tell her anything like that about me, did you?” he growled.

Shrugging, Rukia stroked at his collarbone. “She wanted to know how far down your tattoos go. That's how it came up in the first place.”

“Oh, well I guess that's okay.” He tried hard not to think about why Orihime would want to know that. The ones on his hips were done, but his legs weren't started yet; he expected to add another set of stripes within the next year.

“Though I did accidentally mention you were unusually ticklish on your neck,” she wiggled her fingers at him, and he sat up completely, fearing an impending attack.

“Rukia!” If she kept this up he was going to have to go on the offense.

She grinned, and put her arms around his poorly-defended neck and kissed him between his jaw and ear. “And I also told her that you still have a scar on your butt from when we were kids, which you got falling on your own spear.”

“That was not my fault. And none of her damn business, I might add.” The fish he'd thought he'd stuck had been a small water god. The moment he grazed it, the thing doubled in size and threw him into the stream and flipping the pointy end of the spear towards him. If he hadn't moved in time he would have gotten stabbed somewhere considerably more vital.

“You mean the two of you never talk about us? Then again, I suppose you must not have the time, with all that grunting and beating on each other,” she said, tapping her chin with her forefinger.

Renji scowled at her, disliking her tone and looked away. “We talk!” he shouted, though he knew they didn't really, unless it was to taunt each other while they sparred. Most of the time he could read Ichigo about as well as he could read Rukia, which meant they could have a conversation with body language alone.

“Really? Do tell.” Her big eyes were narrowed at him, though they carried an amused glint and she crossed her arms.

“Am I still going to get laid if you don't like it?”

“Oh, now I am very intrigued - and weren't you complaining a minute ago?” she said, as she laid back down on the futon on her side, the greater part of her lavender kimono sliding behind her hip, leaving a long swath of soft, white skin exposed. She didn't even try to cover up.

Renji ignored her jibe. “Let me think.” He pushed lightly on her shoulder to slip back her collar and pressed his mouth gently along the elegant arch of her neck. “Potentially embarrassing personal stuff that you know about someone else and aren't supposed to tell anyone, ever, at all? Hmm.”

“Renji-” she said, gasping as he nudged her onto her back. Rukia sounded a little alarmed. He wanted to tease her a bit more before he gave her what she wanted, but his own desire had been kindled.

He moved until he was on his hands and knees over her, and swept his hair over one shoulder. As he worked his way down towards her belly button, making her startle and sigh, an incident occurred to him that might be appropriately appalling. “Oh yeah, I know. It's kind of a long story, though,” he said, pulling back before she could get too excited.

“You are evil,” she groaned.

He sat up on his heels and ran his hands over her hips, grinning wickedly. “Do you want me to tell it? I can go back to what I was doing.”

“Oh ple- I mean yes, tell me the story,” she said.

Renji laughed a little louder than he intended to at her conflicted expression. “You asked for it. Okay, I guess Ichigo and me were in the practice yard outside Sixth Division headquarters about three weeks ago, and somebody left the window to their office open. We could hear this couple getting it on, loud and clear right from where we were standing. I still don't know who it was, though I have a good guess - and don't worry it wasn't your brother.”

“I didn't think it would be.”

She'd be surprised then, if he told her certain things he knew about Captain Kuchiki. “Anyway, Ichigo turns bright red, and looks like he wants to crawl behind a rock, and I bust out laughing, hoping that they'll hear me and shut the goddamned window.”

“And?”

“When the window shuts and we get our swords back up, he says, 'That was embarrassing.' And I say, 'It's what people sound like when they fuck. So what?' And he says, 'I don't sound like that,' then his face turns even redder than before. I thought he was going to pop an artery. At that point, I can't stop cracking up and we have to admit we aren't going to get any practice in. Ichigo doesn't have anything else to do that day and we're hungry so we go find a place to eat.”

“Oh, god I think I know where this is going,” she groaned into her hands as he gave her another smug smile.

“Anyway, we run into Ikkaku and Yumichika with Matsumoto at the restaurant, and we sit around and drink and eat and I tell them about our little debacle over at headquarters. I also get punched in the face for repeating the conversation I had with Ichigo. Everybody is laughing except him, and then Matsumoto and and Yumichika start acting out what they think their sex noises sound like and then what their partner sounds like whey they're coming.”

“Renji, you did not!”

“Yep. Sure did, and the best part is in the end Ichigo played along, too. He was so drunk. Then we all got thrown out.”

She slapped his chest, though it barely stung. “That is not really having a conversation, that is more like a party game.”

“It was a good story though wasn't it?” he said, and went back to where he'd left off on her hip, and then lifted one of her legs up to rest her foot on his shoulder and nibbled his way down.

“If I... If I ever hear about this... from anyone else besides you, you are pretty much dead, I hope you know.” she said, breathing heavily as he got to the inside of her thigh.

Rukia could really be stupid sometimes. She was in no position at all to try to hold anything over his head. “Really? So, I shouldn't tell anyone about that little Chappy tattoo you have on your left tit? Even though you constantly bitch about my ink?”

“Renji,” she moaned, as he stroked between her legs.

“Would it be a problem if I mentioned to your brother, that you really weren't sick the night you were supposed to go with us to that dead boring garden party over at the Honeha mansion?”

“Oh... you would not!” True, he wouldn't – saying something might get him in trouble with his captain too.

“And if Ichigo ever found out that you took hundreds of pictures of him getting dressed, and donated them to the Shinigami Women's Association photo trading pool, in trade for pictures of me and of Captain Ukitake, would that would be bad, too?”

He felt her body go rigid under his hands. “How did you find out about that?”

“Matsumoto showed me a funny picture once and told me where she got it. I might not be a fucking genius Rukia, but I do know you were hiding out at Ichigo's house for a few months in his closet.” He hoped he didn't sound too jealous. They weren't exactly on the best of terms when she was trapped in the living world.

Rukia sighed heavily, but she relaxed again, poking him in the collarbone with her big toe. “Very well, I will not divulge anything more about you – as long as you agree not to do it either."

“I can go along with that. You can still tell them about the good stuff though,” he said, and kissed the inside of her knee.

“Like what?” she laughed.

“I guess I'll have to show you again, if you've got such a bad memory.”
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