It could be said that they were as different as twilight and the blazing heat of the midday sun, as opposite in every way that seemed important to the whole of Seireitei and especially the Kuchiki family.
There had been much speculation among the residents of Soul Society, most particularly around the Gotei 13, about the mechanics of how such two completely opposite men such as the Kuchiki heir and the irascible scoundrel from Rukongai could have found themselves sharing the same bed. The favored story seemed to revolve around sake, lots of it, because surely there was no rational reason for the two men to even speak to each other much less do other such… disturbing things.
Yet, little did Soul Society know, they were all the victim of a cruel and lucrative joke.
It started out innocently enough. The barest mention of something that may or may not have happened. A raised eyebrow and a murmured suggestion of a perfect impossibility into one loud mouth’s ear. There was giggling and repeated “no ways” when it began. Eyes cut one way or the other, faces flushed in disbelief before it was all promptly dismissed.
No one was quite sure who actually guessed it first. Most likely, Renji with his distinct inability to hold a secret, especially when drunk six ways from Sunday. He had probably told Ikkaku, who had mentioned it to Yumichika, who had promptly sent out letters of explanation to every blabbering gossipmonger in Soul Society. It blazed on from there, until everyone was talking about it.
Of course, no one knew that the strange and awkward rumor was the product of a complete misunderstanding. Byakuya had tripped, Kenpachi was drunk, and there might have been a flight of stairs involved. Now, why two such men were in the vicinity of each other in such disorientating states was a mystery yet to be solved.
Nevertheless, the sight of the noble Kuchiki heir sprawled on top of the ruthless, bloodlusty captain of the eleventh division was certainly an occasion to be talked about for centuries. Possibly longer. Especially since one large and calloused hand seemed perched possessively on a rather attractive and much lusted after butt, belonging to Byakuya of course.
Byakuya had seemed oblivious to the rumors, continuing in his daily duties with a complete look of blissful, impassive unaware on his face. Kenpachi responded to each query with a grunt and a glare, which probably made any who dared even ask scurry away in fear.
“Let the men have their secrets,” they said. “It was too frightening to risk a question.”
If they had known the truth, well, maybe even one as restrained as Unohana might have found a temper or two flaring.
Sake cups clinked, the alcohol nearly splashing out onto two very different hands. Kenpachi grinned as he tossed back the whole shot, enjoying the very subtle burn as it sped through his body. He threw his bulk against the wall of his home, stretching out his legs in front of him and staring up at the starry sky as he reveled in the feeling of sore muscles and the lingering after scent of blood. Not his own but that of his enemies, the Hollow he had slain that very day.
Byakuya was more refined, swallowing a small drink of the sake with the same effortless grace he did everything else. He sat straight-backed on the edge of the porch with robes perfectly arranged around him. His own eyes were settled on the garden, which he had been surprised to learn Kenpachi owned. Bright colors and fragrances had not seemed the man’s style.
A fanged smirk and a gleaming eye turned to watch the Kuchiki heir over the rim of his cup as he reached for the half-empty bottle. “You kill shit good,” Kenpachi grunted, tipping it over to refill his cup.
Dark hair barely shifted as Byakuya tilted his head in acceptance, sipping serenely at his sake. “Thank you,” he replied in a cool tone, tinted with pride and arrogance like most of the nobles in his family.
A bark of laughter escaped the eleventh division’s captain lips as he threw his head back. “You’re cool, hime. I like ya.” His declaration thereby finished, he threw back another shot and grinned, pleased that their little planned joke had gone so well.
No one was the wiser, and they would probably furious if they had been. They never stopped to consider what a bored and recently self-discovered Kuchiki Byakuya would be capable of, nor what he would be capable of when encountering a similarly bored Zaraki Kenpachi. Humorous deceit was only part of it.
They mostly enjoyed having got one over on refined and stifled Soul Society.
“When ya wanna tell them the truth?” Zaraki asked, after a moment of companionable silence.
The Kuchiki heir smiled just then, a faint turning up of his lips. But for all intents and purposes, by the gleam of the moonlight, it strongly resembled Kenpachi’s bloodthirsty grin.
“Let them believe it a while longer,” he replied simply, voice taking on a hint of enjoyment. “It still amuses me.”
Kenpachi dissolved into raucous laughter once more. “We’re just two of a kind, ain’t we, hime?” He wiggled the nearly empty sake bottle, raising an eyebrow at the sixth division’s Captain.
Byakuya merely held his cup out for more, a silent acceptance. “It would appear so,” was the serene response.
Frightening several small children and a flock of chirping birds into flying off into the night, Kenpachi’s laughter could be heard echoing across Seireitei.