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Shinji didn’t fully trust his own decision when he made a come here gesture, summoning his lieutenant closer to the couch where he’d been sprawled for most of the afternoon. A loud and cheeky tune was playing at the Fifth Division office, and the daring rhythm of the drums got him in the mood — made him wanna spice things up a little or maybe kill the time.
There had been a hesitation, or something very much like one, in the way his lieutenant looked at him: judging, calculating.
Finally he stepped forward.
“Captain?” Aizen asked as he stopped behind the armrest, half a step from where Shinji’s head was resting. “Do you need my help?”
Shinji smiled slyly.
“Maybe I do…”
He repeated the beckoning gesture.
“Closer,” he ordered, voice light and playful. “I won’t bite, don’t be scared.”
Aizen leaned forward, hands clasped behind his back. His brow lifted a fraction. A glint of curiosity sparked in his eyes.
Shinji didn’t like that. It wasn’t the expression he wanted to evoke. His half-lidded eyes locked on Aizen with razor-sharp precision. “Closer,” he murmured. “Be a good lieutenant and listen to your captain.”
For a heartbeat, Aizen didn’t react.
Then he leaned down, face aligned above Shinji’s — both of them searched the other for the slightest tell.
Quick as a strike, Shinji’s hand shot up, catching a fold of Aizen’s collar.
The bastard didn’t even blink; his stupid face stayed impossibly serene.
Shinji’s fingers curled; he pulled the lieutenant down. Closer. Lower. He only stopped when they were a breath apart, able to sense each other’s warmth.
Neither looked away.
“Captain, this is very… inappropriate,” the lieutenant quietly protested, but didn’t pull back.
Not that Shinji held him firmly — a different reason kept Aizen in place. A challenge, perhaps. An interest in this sudden shift in their usual game of pretend. Whatever it was, it was new. Irresistibly refreshing. And both of them felt the lure to explore it.
“And yer always so proper, right, Sōsuke-kun?” Shinji teased. “Never broken a rule, never done anything wrong… haven’t ya?”
“I never…” Aizen began, his breath haunting Shinji’s lips like a goddamn taunt.
Shinji didn’t let him finish.
He closed the distance. His narrow lips brushed over Aizen’s, wordlessly commanding him to shut the hell up.
The lieutenant froze. Whether from a sudden comprehension or shock at the unfamiliar feel, Shinji couldn’t tell.
It wasn’t even a kiss — at least not yet — more like a suggestion, a contact at best. And yet, Shinji felt the fragile tension, the caught breath of his lieutenant who was so far out of his depth, it was almost funny.
Almost.
Because after a few seconds of stillness it quickly became old.
“What’s the matter?” Shinji hummed, his lips mere inches from Aizen’s. “Did I make ya uncomfortable? You can always flee, y’know?”
Aizen shifted back by a degree, only to study him with that cold, measuring stare. He said nothing, perhaps torn between his urge to retreat and his inability to admit a weakness.
“I can practically hear the gears turnin’ inside your head,” Shinji smirked, fingers playing with his lieutenant’s collar. “Tryin’ to decide whether ya want it or not?”
“The door is unlocked, someone might walk in,” Aizen offered — an excuse more than anything else.
Shinji only smiled. Because he understood — this was the one thing Aizen wasn’t good at.
That made the whole game worth playing.
“I guess I’ll take that risk.” Shinji’s smile didn’t falter. “And ya?”
It hung there in the air, alongside the wild, jazzy music.
Shinji tugged at the fold of Aizen’s uniform. “Make up your mind before I get bored,” he warned.
Aizen narrowed his eyes, his palms came to rest on the arm of the sofa. His face, upside down from Shinji’s perspective, descended gracefully as he was finally — finally — leaning in for a kiss.
It felt somewhat like math with him, as if he had to measure the distance, calculate the exact force he wanted to press his lips with. The contact was light as an ink brush on calligraphy paper — a perfect imitation of what Shinji had done before.
Then Aizen paused. Missing a point of reference, he hesitated.
Shinji smirked knowingly and came to his aid, moving his lips against his.
The lieutenant responded, slowly returning the kiss — awkward, tentative, and definitely uncertain.
The way Aizen kissed, or rather allowed himself to be kissed — it was quite telling. It revealed not the lack of confidence, but rather the lack of experience. Shinji found that hilarious. Adorable even. And at the same time, inexplicably odd. He had never imagined his brilliant lieutenant struggling with a task. But here they were — sharing a kiss that was far from perfect.
Aizen’s soft lips moved with reluctant obedience, trying to follow Shinji’s lead. Not skilled — not even close — and that was the most exciting part.
It hit Shinji hard with how honest it was. He wanted a revelation — here he had one. With a pang of satisfaction, he realized he was better at this. He had the upper hand; he controlled the moment, the pressure, the rhythm. And he liked it. Or worse — he craved it — that small, personal victory.
Shinji’s fingers curled more firmly in his lieutenant’s collar. He pressed a little harder, moving his lips with a studied pace, subtly escalating. The kiss remained quite gentle but carried an edge of danger. Coaxing Aizen to keep up, to commit, to feel the rising thrill.
And Aizen did.
Or at least he sounded like he did.
It was small, just an exhale — faint and barely audible. But they were so close, mouths locked, lips dancing to the same tune of the mutual attraction, that Shinji noticed even the tiniest strain in his lieutenant’s body.
He could hear the softest sounds, feel each subtle change.
Then something scary happened — an unexpected spark ran down Shinji’s spine and struck a raw nerve deep in his gut. It caused him to kiss that stupid asshole harder, and blame him for it. He caught Aizen’s lower lip between his teeth and pressed on it lightly, playfully. Not enough to cause harm, but enough to draw out a small, startled sigh.
Shinji broke the kiss, taking a breath and grinning widely.
“Yer sloppy.”
He didn’t mean to be cruel, but the jab came so naturally. He softened it by raising his hand from Aizen’s collar to his face — to touch him. The skin was red-hot when Shinji’s fingertips brushed his cheek.
Aizen didn’t recoil, didn’t move an inch, still hunched above Shinji like some black, marble gargoyle.
Shinji ran his thumb across Aizen’s lips. They were wet from kisses, softer than his own.
“I can teach ya, y’know,” he offered with a lazy drawl. Eyes half-closed, a dirty, little smile flashing on his face. “If ya want me to.”
He shifted his position on the couch, dragging himself up just slightly.
Aizen backed away, straightening himself and observing his captain with a perfect focus.
It felt like the moment broke, never to return.
Until Shinji sat back, leaning comfortably against the sofa, tapping the spot beside himself with an open palm. A wordless command, inviting Aizen to join him.
Aizen understood in an instant, but didn’t obey right away.
Shinji watched him with a practiced ease, posture loose, lounging against the cushions. He knew Aizen had enjoyed the kiss. And perhaps that was the problem.
Silence lingered between them again, and Shinji grew tired of waiting. But before he had to say another word, his lieutenant stepped toward him — strides swift and decisive, like a man with no doubts.
He didn’t take the spot next to Shinji. No. Instead, he leaned down, resting one hand beside his captain’s head.
Their eyes locked — a quiet search for permission.
Aizen slid one knee onto the couch. Then the other one. His legs rested on either side of Shinji’s thighs, leaving the captain trapped between them.
“I’d love to learn more,” Aizen muttered, tone all soft and sweet, as he stared down at Shinji with that sharp, demanding gaze. “I appreciate your guidance, Captain. Truly.”
There was a lively spark beneath the level surface, lurking behind his glasses like a promised dare. Shinji could see it in his eyes — the faintest flicker of flame. Not strong enough to be called desire, not fake enough to be ignored.
Now, that was entertaining. His lieutenant suddenly acting bold. Maybe he had underestimated the smug, silly bastard.
A mean, impish smile crept across Shinji’s face. His hand traveled up Aizen’s outer thigh, unhurried.
“Then don’t just hover there,” he challenged, “if yer plannin’ to kiss me, just do it.”
Aizen’s free hand reached down, thumb and index finger claiming Shinji’s chin. A subtle gesture of dominance — performative, and misplaced. If Aizen needed the illusion of control, too bad, Shinji wasn’t gonna grant him that luxury.
With a firm grip, his fingers curved into Aizen’s hips — hands on both sides, and nothing comforting about them. “Didn’t ya hear me? I told ya to come down here.”
He pressed down.
Aizen’s balance wavered just slightly, but he didn’t allow himself to be ungraceful. He lowered his body with a reverence worth a better cause. His captain’s hands at his hips, guiding him down to where Shinji wanted him to be.
Their frames aligned, Aizen’s on top — his body sturdier, arms broader than Shinji’s, and yet his weight perfectly manageable. It was grounding, making it feel real — and Shinji appreciated it.
He didn’t mind Sōsuke on top as long as the pace stayed his.
“I wonder,” Aizen’s smooth, purring voice was close to flirtatious. His thumb slid across Shinji’s lower lip. A small tease — too careful, as if testing the water. “What’s the cost of that lesson?”
“Find out for yourself,” Shinji replied. His fingers dug into Aizen again, harder this time. An instruction to act — not patient, not kind. Commanding.
Aizen tightened his grip on Shinji’s chin and moved forward, mouth meeting his captain’s in a tender kiss. Lips almost eager to prove he had already learned a thing or two. And perhaps he had.
This kiss was better than the first one — not yet passionate, but trembling with a need to improve. Was it Aizen’s pride? Or was that something deeper? Something not calculated that Shinji couldn’t name.
Shinji didn’t care. He simply enjoyed it. It felt like Aizen was trying his best. He was searching, testing angles, even taking the lead. And Shinji indulged in that experimentation.
He didn’t correct him, just let him explore. Let him learn for himself what worked, and what didn’t.
Aizen tasted like curiosity, like an unspoken want — a diligent student striving for perfection. But perfect took practice, and practice came with a price. Shinji sensed the shift in the air, the narrowing of the gap between their throbbing bodies.
There was a suspense thickening around them.
Their kiss deepened, turned a little messier.
Aizen’s hand slipped from his chin, and found its place over Shinji’s neck. His fingers pressed lightly, taking his pulse at his throat. And Shinji hated being measured like that. Still, his wicked pulse quickened — because of course, even his heartbeat didn’t listen to orders.
There it was — that scary, twisted thing Shinji tried to suppress. He clenched his jaw. The unwelcome warmth settled low in his gut.
He could tell Aizen wasn’t doing any better. He felt it in his breath, in the stiffness beneath the fabric. So he wrapped his arms around him, pulling him even closer. Against his better judgment, parting his lips and encouraging him to go further.
Aizen didn’t hesitate for another breath. He pressed with his tongue against Shinji’s lips. It wasn’t precise, rather rushed and clumsy — too forceful, too selfish — and yet, Shinji loved it.
He met him with the same pressure. They began the dance.
The music was blooming into a rapid crescendo. Its rising tempo making them go faster, more reckless.
Shit — they should stop now before the line was crossed. Or had they crossed it already and Shinji let it happen?
‘Cause now he had Sōsuke caught up in the act. He got him good, real good — lost between wet kisses, breath uneven, palms sweaty, and eyes fully closed.
Shinji savored this delicious moment much like one would an expensive wine, not because it was so incredibly tasty — but simply because it was so rare.
Relishing all the sensory details, drunk on the idea of making him crack, Shinji had almost missed it when his own body betrayed him by sending an ugly twitch to his private parts.
He nearly groaned into the kiss.
But before he did, he bit at Aizen’s tongue. Not roughly, not to draw blood — just to mask his own reaction, and to force the other to make a sound first.
It worked.
Aizen hissed in mild pain, clearly confused. He disengaged. His cheeks uncharacteristically rosy, glasses partially askew.
“You said you wouldn’t bite,” he managed, out of breath.
Shinji let out a short, bark-like laugh. “I lied,” he grinned, flashing his teeth. “Look at ya, so trusting of your dear captain.” His hand reached up to Aizen’s face, delicately caressing his flushed cheek. “How cute.”
And Aizen? Aizen did something Shinji would have never expected — he leaned into the touch as if it was the only reasonable choice.
Damn it, Sōsuke, Shinji swore inside his head, feeling the familiar heat bubbling up to the surface. Ya really are terrible at this. Yer making it too obvious.
With his index finger, he brushed against Aizen’s lips. Then he swiftly pulled them apart, and pushed the finger in. It grazed against Aizen’s teeth but Aizen didn’t bite down. He welcomed the intrusion, making no action to resist it. It was hot and wet inside his mouth but Shinji had already known it.
“That’s right,” he purred, tone dripping amusement and reserved approval as Aizen’s tongue wrapped itself around his finger, tracing its shape and length. “Give it a proper taste.”
Aizen made a sound, low in his throat. Might have been an agreement, might have been annoyance. He caught Shinji’s wrist to keep his hand in place. Then, sucked a little harder — his eyes searching for Shinji’s reaction with intent.
Shinji met his gaze, not shy — decisive. His excitement probably written on his face at this point, his grin wide and feral.
“Since yer so helpful today, Lieutenant,” he said, pulling his finger out, “there is one more thing…”
He didn’t have to explain more, Aizen already felt what Shinji had meant.
The record kept spinning and the new song arrived, shifting the mood entirely — from the crazy improvisation into something awfully sensual. Shinji didn’t like how that change made him question his decisions.
A nervous twitch invaded a corner of his lips. He told himself, it wasn’t stress at all, he preferred to call it anticipation.
When Sōsuke finally let go of his hand, his eyes had a silent question written in them. Not about the meaning behind the bold request, not asking for reasons, but more like: is it safe to do it here?
It wasn’t safe, of course it wasn’t. Nothing they had done today was safe. But Shinji felt reckless from the beginning. He was flirting with danger like he had always done.
“Captain… I don’t think…” Aizen started, but Shinji immediately interrupted, pressing his index finger to his swollen lips.
“Don’t ‘captain’ me now,” he corrected, voice hushed but carrying a glee. “It’s not an order, y’know. Just a small suggestion… Thought it could be fun.”
His palm dropped from Aizen’s lips to stroke his right knee — a gesture of encouragement, gentle, almost loving.
Aizen’s gaze fell somewhere low, likely to the bulge in Shinji’s hakama. Then snapped back to his eyes as if the lieutenant was seriously considering the deed.
Shinji didn’t really believe Sōsuke to be this adventurous.
Not until he actually reached for his captain’s sash.
Before he could untie the knot, Shinji caught his hand.
“A-ah!” He wagged a finger at him, his smile was nothing but triumphant with teeth. “I’ll take care of that, thank ya. You get down on your knees.”
A spark of rebellion flickered behind Aizen’s lenses, dangerous like wildfire. However, the lieutenant extinguished it quickly. He pushed himself off the sofa, leaving his captain’s lap empty.
Strangely enough, Shinji felt that vacancy more severely than he would have anticipated. Only now he realized how warm Aizen’s body was against his own; so close for so long it might seem their two frames had clicked together perfectly like well-placed puzzle pieces.
Shinji licked his lips instinctively when yet another realization hit him like a stone. He had no idea he needed so badly to see his lieutenant submitting to him that way.
Down on the floor, sitting on his knees, Aizen looked close to stripped of his agency. His face was faintly flushed, hair in disarray. So small. So fitting. His eyes glued to Shinji’s. Waiting. And expecting wonders.
Goosebumps crept over Shinji’s skin. He blamed them on the cool air after he undid his hakama. Slowly. Very slowly. He let his member free, stroking himself lazily with a practiced hand.
Aizen’s gaze could not hold his for long, it dropped to Shinji’s busy palm and stopped there.
“Like what ya see?” Shinji’s smirk was knowing. He wouldn’t miss such a detail as Aizen holding his breath.
The lieutenant played coy now, or maybe he genuinely awaited instruction.
“Then come and take it,” he urged. “No need to be shy.”
Aizen didn’t meet his eyes as his face drew closer, hands not touching. Not yet. His hot breath was driving Shinji mad. But the lieutenant faltered, whether reconsidering or teasing. Shinji didn’t know. And didn’t care.
He bit at his lower lip, praying for Aizen to keep going. The heat was boiling at his stomach like a bile.
The bastard still hesitated, threatening to change his mind.
Shinji opened his mouth to say something snarky.
He couldn’t.
A gasp escaped him as he felt the sudden, overwhelming warmth. The sensation was too intense, too raw in its nature, and Shinji’s mind went blank for a second.
He didn’t imagine his lieutenant taking him fully right from the start — no teasing, no nothing — just his goddamn mouth. Trying his best not to jerk his hips up, so he wouldn’t come off as needy, Shinji smothered his lust and looked down at Aizen. It was quite a sight, these lips stretched so beautifully around Shinji’s length, half of his member swallowed.
Then Aizen caught him off-guard by backing away.
Shinji’s heart skipped with shameful fear. For a dreadful moment it seemed the fun was over.
But it wasn’t over.
Aizen repeated the move. This time faster, and less successful at drawing a sound out of his captain.
Shinji noticed the lack of coordination behind this technique — no strategy, no plan. Just a sloppy attempt. It should have been obvious, and yet, the realization slapped him with its force like an open palm. A mix of guilt and smugness entered his bloodstream, a treacherous cocktail designed to disturb.
Aizen ran his mouth up the shaft, not putting enough pressure for it to be called effective. And Shinji could not pretend anymore that it wasn’t an incompetent shot. And the absolutely worst part? He understood, how unfair it had been to push Aizen this far.
You idiot, he scolded himself inwardly, what else did ya expect from him? The unloving bastard had never even kissed before.
Without a doubt, it had to be Aizen’s first time doing… this. So of course he wouldn’t know how. He’d started too quick, his pace was too uneven, and he had no idea how to use his tongue. With all that said, his mouth still felt nice — hot and slick, and willing to learn.
Determined to help him gain more experience, Shinji reached down, fingers sliding through Aizen’s brown strands.
“Don’t forget to breathe. Slowly. Through your nose,” he advised, no mockery in it. His left hand was petting Sōsuke’s head, unintentionally affectionately. “You’re doin’ just fine.” A white lie, meant to spare him. “But lemme give ya a hand, k?”
Shinji curled his fingers, not hard, just enough to take hold of his lieutenant’s hair.
Aizen’s eyes snapped up to him, suspicious and not fully approving. But Shinji ignored it. Pushing his head down, he forced Aizen’s mouth to take him a few inches deeper.
The sound Aizen emitted was helpless and sweet. And the vibration, holy crap, it went straight to Shinji’s loins.
He let Aizen pull back, allowing his throat to adjust. After a short pause, he made him bob his head again. He controlled the tempo: Not too deep, not too fast. Designed not to scare off his poor, inexperienced lieutenant.
“Just like that,” he praised, breath slightly shaky and voice cracking. “Such a clever boy.”
Aizen responded with a muffled moan, looking half-embarrassed and probably half-resentful. He shut his eyes tight. His left hand shot up, placed on Shinji’s hip — a strategically protective position — just in case the captain pushed too rough.
His other hand hovered over the stiffness between his own legs. Shinji watched as his fingers twitched, eager to touch but denying himself.
“It’s okay to enjoy it.” The sneer Shinji wore bordered on predatory. Good that his lieutenant had his eyes closed and didn’t see that. “I certainly am.”
As if to make a point, he took Aizen’s head with both hands and pushed himself fully into his throat.
Aizen’s eyes flew open, a flash of panic in his gaze.
A pleasured grunt rolled off Shinji’s lips.
Now that he had his cock completely surrounded by the intoxicating warmth of these pretty lips, he thought he didn’t want to be anywhere else.
He kept Aizen in place until the man started to gag.
Shinji tightened his lips, fighting back the urge to thrust his hips into him. He longed to go even deeper. To fuck Aizen’s throat. Hard. Go rough on him. Choke him on his dick. And finish in his mouth. Make him swallow.
Why?
Why did he feel the filthy need to possess him, to hurt him, to deprave?
Was it the maddeningly disarming way his lieutenant looked at him: eyes wide, staring from above his slipping frames as if it was too much for him to handle?
Shinji’s conscience kicked in again — unwanted and unnecessary. He released his hold, letting Aizen retreat.
When the lieutenant did, his breath was ragged. A string of saliva dangled at his lips, connecting them to the tip of Shinji’s cock.
Shinji almost said he was sorry.
He wasn’t sorry. And he said no such thing.
“You good?” he asked, trying not to slip with any of his feelings. Not to show worry or satisfaction, and especially not the desire to continue.
Aizen intended to reply but he only nodded — his throat refusing to cooperate after such intrusion. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. His chest rising and falling, as he worked on regaining composure.
It took him no longer than three heavy breaths before he looked ready again.
Shinji gave himself a few, hasty strokes.
Aizen’s face was getting near him, incredibly slow.
“You don’t have to…” he stopped him — not because he didn’t want him to proceed. Hell, he hoped Aizen would! But because he wasn’t sure anymore. Was it too much? Was it too cruel? Twisted?
“I’m aware,” his lieutenant assured him after clearing his throat. His eyes were on Shinji with a violent intimacy. “But I want to finish you,” he added, sounding too determined for his own good.
Shinji would have laughed at his serious tone, had it not granted his penis a vigorous twitch.
“Well, ain’t ya ambitious?” He attempted a smile, but it was crooked, tainted by arousal. “Ya think ya can manage?”
“I know I can.”
“Very well,” Shinji licked his lips, preparing himself for what was about to come. “Then quit yappin’ and get to work.”
The corner of Aizen’s mouth twitched like he held back amusement.
“And Sōsuke,” Shinji interrupted once more before his lieutenant began, “try not to choke this time. The last thing I need is you dropping dead of sucking me off.”
The joke didn’t land. They never did. Not with a stick in the mud like Sōsuke Aizen. Shinji kept making them anyway. Even now, when he wanted this mouth so badly.
“Don’t be obscene, Captain,” Aizen mumbled, his focus entirely on Shinji’s cock. He said it as if the greedy look on his face, and the way he parted his lips wasn’t obscene in the slightest.
Some pretense had to be maintained, it seemed, even if they were already past this point.
Aizen took him again, not too deep, but enough to make Shinji emit a soft murmur of content.
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he breathed out, watching his lieutenant sliding his lips down and back up with a methodical care. “Where were my good manners?”
He relaxed back against the cushions, letting his lieutenant do as he pleased. The record was still spinning, the music swayed slowly in a seductive flow of smoky, jazzy notes. Sōsuke’s pace was off-rhythm, the man committed to treat the tune as a white noise — ignoring it entirely. And yet, somehow his moves were never chaotic as if Aizen had his internal metronome ticking.
Shinji closed his eyes, focusing on his erection — on the white-hot sensation coiling in his veins. He refused to think that it had been a mistake since this mistake had already given him more than decency would’ve. His dear lieutenant might be green but he was finally getting the hang of it. Using one hand to stroke Shinji while sucking him off, and the other to gently cup his testicles.
Hell, Shinji thought. He’s learning fast. If he keeps that up, he’ll really…
Bucking his hips, not uncontrollably but to draw attention, he disturbed Aizen’s steady pace.
“C’mon, Sōsuke,” he breathed, voice betraying his thirst. “Bet, ya can go deeper than this.”
It turned out Aizen could, and he did — on his terms, sending Shinji’s mind into a blissful oblivion.
“Mmh, fuck,” a curse made it out of him alongside a low grunt as his lieutenant’s mouth swallowed most of his length. He barely stopped himself from fucking that throat compulsively; his fingers digging desperately into the couch.
A few moments earlier, Aizen’s bold claim had sounded like arrogance — but now Shinji believed, Aizen was truly capable of finishing him off.
Eyes flicking toward the door, Shinji mused at the catastrophic consequences had anyone walked in on them. It was far too late to interrupt the act, especially when his need to take it to the finish line had overwritten his logic with a dreadful finesse.
“Faster,” he commanded, not fully aware if driven by desire or fear of getting caught.
His lieutenant obeyed, or at least he tried. Not able to decide which instruction to prioritize: keeping if quick or deepening it further — he returned to feel amateurish.
Sensing both, Aizen’s struggle and his own approaching climax, he took hold of his lieutenant’s scalp and jerked his hips upward. Unapologetic, he thrust into his mouth. And repeated it again. And again — until each of his moves got instinctive, frenetic. Until he forced out of that throat muffled sounds that were sexier than the smooth jazz playing in the background.
Perhaps he became too carried away, too caught up in the moment to notice the danger.
The hot, blinding pain made him yelp.
He jerked away in an instant, hissing like a wounded animal.
His shaft was in flames, burning with a sharp, impossible sting where Aizen’s reckless teeth grazed the delicate skin and caused a micro-injury. It hurt like all eight hells — a kind of sensation that Shinji had never experienced before, not to his most precious, most fragile parts.
“Son of a…” a string of swearwords slipped through his clenched teeth. He winced; hands trembling from the aftershock of trauma as he carefully examined the abrasion.
The glare he shot his lieutenant was nothing but a death wish.
“Ya got any idea how bad that shit hurts?!”
It wasn’t a real question but Aizen looked like he wanted to answer — he kept staring, unblinking, from above his smudged glasses.
“I…”
Shinji didn’t allow him to speak.
“Yer a piece of shit, that’s what you are!”
Aizen licked his lips, a quick, little gesture. He didn’t move an inch, still kneeling on the floor between his captain’s legs. No apology came from him, no explanation either. He seemed unsure of what to do next.
But then, the bastard dared to reach up as if he planned to continue.
“Ya kiddin’ me?” Shinji slapped his hand away. “The hell do ya think yer doin’?”
“Making amends,” Aizen recited like he was reading from a goddamn report.
Shinji could hardly believe his own ears. Eyes wide and uncontrollably twitching with frustration, he glanced down at his lieutenant who was pulling off that confused, non-malicious expression. It was as if nothing bad had just happened, and they should already move on. Or worse — as if Shinji was being unreasonable for blaming Aizen for the mishap.
“Fuck, no! We’re done,” he rasped, throat tight and suddenly too dry — and it wasn’t even him who had been choking on a dick. He tucked his painfully aching junk safely into his hakama, and started adjusting his uniform. Gods, he was sticky with sweat.
His lieutenant still waited.
For what? To be dismissed? Or for his performance to be evaluated?
Shinji frowned. “Get up. And get a grip,” his face was contorted with his own brand of distaste.
For a heartbeat, he thought Aizen wouldn’t obey him. But he did, getting back to his feet with a little less grace than expected. Movements stiff, shoulders tense, standing in front of his captain the lieutenant appeared rigid. Shinji knew why, he wasn’t blind. Nor was he oblivious.
For him, the high of excitement had vanished the second he’d felt that goddamn pain — but for Aizen, the moment wasn’t really over. All of Aizen’s control, all of his mastery couldn’t help him hide the lingering effect.
But that was not Shinji’s problem — not anymore. He had tasted enough danger for one day, and as always, he paid for that with his own blood.
“Go,” he waved his hand dismissively. “Finish what ya need to. Come back when you’re … composed.”
Aizen nodded stiffly. “That’s very consider…” his voice broke off involuntarily, and Shinji nearly snorted. His lieutenant had to clear his throat before continuing. “Considerate of you,” he managed. “Thank you for the lesson, Captain.”
How was one even supposed to reply to that?
After what they’d done?
That sounded like an insult.
Shinji shrugged and turned his gaze away. “Yer welcome, I guess.”
Aizen said nothing more and politely exited the office.
Alone now, Shinji rested his head against the back of the sofa, letting out a long, dramatic sound of a suffering man. It took him a while to realize that the music had ended and the record kept spinning around with nothing more to give.
You idiot, his inner voice offered with cruel eagerness. You complete moron! Why do you have to be a fuck-up like that?
He wasn’t sure anymore if he was talking to Aizen or to himself.
After all, they both had behaved deeply improperly. They both sucked in their own respective way.