leadpencils | photo/voyeurism fic tidbit

Cleaning Kyouraku-taichou's office was a twice-weekly chore she had to do if the Eighth wanted to be paid. Although most of the paperwork went directly to the Vice-Captain's desk, some of it was deemed "For Captain's Eyes Only" - which Nanao privately thought was bullshit. There were only a few items which she couldn't forge Kyouraku's signature onto, and so she collected what she could sign. This task wasn't without hazards, however, as there were usually scraps of obscene poetry layered with the paperwork, which she collected and disposed of. It simply wasn't appropriate to keep such lewd materials lying about where anyone could find them, after all.

As she picked up a stack of half filled in requisition forms, a photograph fell facedown onto the desk. Tucking the papers under her arm, she picked up the photo and turned it over. It was a picture of... oh lord in high heaven.

She looked up guiltily, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. Ukitake-taichou masturbating was not what she had expected to see! Unbidden, her eyes flicked down again. He was naked, but for a pink haori over his shoulders and a hand over his mouth, motion faintly blurring the action of his other hand. Now that she looked closer, that was a very familiar pink haori. Well, that at least explained why the picture was on Kyouraku-taichou's desk.

Swallowing, she tucked it beneath the folds of her shihakushou, and returned to her task of finding unfinished forms. Idly, she pondered what kind of sounds Jyuushirou would make, for him to have a hand over his mouth like that - and then chastised herself for thinking it in the first place.

Sure, the SWA had taken pictures of Ukitake-taichou before - she still had the negatives secreted away in her room, for goodness' sake! - but never of such an... intimate moment.

She could just imagine Shunsui kissing Jyuushirou, two sets of eager hands sliding under layers of clothing, baring toned muscle to the warm air of summer - the hitch of breath as a palm brushed against an inner thigh while undoing the knot on their hakama, the way Shunsui's voice dropped half an octave when he was aroused, telling Jyuushirou how good he looked, how he'd eat him if he could, and following words with actions. She leaned back against the table, papers crumpling slightly in her hands as she sketched the arc of Jyuushirou's spine as Shunsui's lips wrapped around his cock in her mind, and the way he'd be held in place with a hand slid into his hair - oh, she had to stop, she was at work, and this was utterly obscene.

Her thighs pressed firmly together, she bit her lip at the sensation of slickness between them, and wondered if she could somehow come up with an excuse to get even just ten minutes' privacy in the archives. Yes, she decided, Kyouraku's bad life choices were definitely rubbing off onto her.