The Playtime Mini-Series - COMPLETE!

BY : Kirei and Cecilia
Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 14738
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: Aftermath
Authors: Kirei Kitsue and Cecilia Tsukineko
Pairing: Ichigo/Ishida
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No spoilers that we know of. It might even be a little bit AU, but not too much. Smut. (We’re talking mature audiences only.)
Authors’ Note: This is our very first Bleach Yaoi FanFic. Please, enjoy it, and we would REALLY appreciate feedback from anyone who reads it. Honestly, we prefer solid constructive criticism.
Disclaimer: We don't own the characters or anything Bleach-related. We just came up with the little plot bunnies. They think our heads are breeding grounds or something.


By: Kirei Kitsue and Cecilia Tsukineko

Ichigo practically kicked the front door in once he had it unlocked and stumbled into the foyer with a grunt. He was completely and utterly exhausted. Kicking off his shoes, he ignored his slippers and staggered toward the kitchen. He was just as thirsty as he was tired.

“Oi! Ishida! Want anything?”

The Quincy had insisted on fighting alongside him as he took out Hollow after Hollow that afternoon. Honestly, Ichigo was thankful he’d been there. He just wasn’t going to admit it.

They’d both been so beat that Ichigo had grumbled the offer for Ishida to stay at his place that night, which the Archer had accepted. Ichigo swore to himself that it was only because Ishida knew Ichigo wanted him to say no, but Ichigo had felt the need to make the invitation anyway because they were friends…sort of.

Grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge, he began to guzzle it while he waited for Ishida’s answer, resting one hand on the open door of the fridge. He nearly choked when the little freak leaned in under his arm, pressing against Ichigo’s side and backside as he bent over and leaned in to grab a bottle of water for himself. Sputtering, Ichigo pounded on his own chest, trying to clear his lungs of the water he'd just involuntarily inhaled.

“My family’s home!” he whispered fiercely when he’d regained his breath. Why couldn’t he find a dish towel? They were supposed to be in the middle drawer with the sponges and dish soap.

"Actually, no, they're not."

Ishida held up note written in Ichigo's father's handwriting, stating that he'd taken Yuzu and Karin out, and they wouldn't be back until morning. It also said "'not' to bring 'friends' home and 'not' to throw parties." Letting Ichigo take the note, Ishida calmly gulped down most of the water in his bottle.

"Your father is strange," he commented, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Tch. Crazy old geezer," Ichigo grumbled and finished off his own bottle. He tossed it as if it were a basketball, smirking smugly when it sailed cleanly into the open trash can and turned back to the fridge. "I'm starved!"

"You're always hungry. Do you even digest anything you eat?" Tossing his own bottle away, Ishida leaned back on the counter and loosened his tie, watching as Ichigo made himself a monster sandwich. They'd gone straight from school to fighting on the streets. The only thing keeping Ishida Uryuu on his feet at that moment was the stubborn urge not to let Ichigo know he was tired.

On the other hand, the idea of having Ichigo's house to themselves for the night certainly didn't hurt. Rukia had gone to Urahara's to discuss whatever Shinnigami talk about after a long night's work and, thankfully, had taken Kon with her. Put all that together, and Ichigo was starting to look...delicious.

With a huge bite in his mouth, Ichigo looked up and froze. Ishida was staring at him...funny.

"Hungry?" he asked around the mouthful and gestured at the sandwich makings. "Make one."

"Aa, thank you."

Ishida made himself a normal-sized sandwich and ate it neatly, not wasting a single crumb. He was finished eating by the time Ichigo had made it only halfway through his own meal.

"Meet me upstairs when you're done." That said, Ishida headed for Ichigo's room...and began shedding clothes.

Ichigo took another massive bite and watched as Ishida's tie fluttered to the kitchen floor from elegant and pale fingers. He chewed slowly and swallowed thoughtfully. Ishida was joking, right?

He finished his sandwich in two more bites and drank a little water from the tap, dropping his cup in the sink before stooping to pick up the dark, silky tie and headed towards the stairs. He stooped and picked up Ishida's shirt near the bottom and his pants near the top. Ishida had to be joking...Socks in the hallway...boxers outside his bedroom door. Kurosaki Ichigo braced himself for what he’d find on the other side and opened his door.

Ishida stood naked in the middle of the room, back to the door, and slowly trailed his eyes over every detail of Ichigo's bedroom. It wasn't often he got to be in here, and he liked to see what had changed since his last visit, down to how the pencils in the cup on Ichigo's desk were arranged. Dark eyes glanced at the redhead over a pale shoulder as Ishida twisted at the waist slightly, showing off his back in an elegant curve.

Said red-head stared for several long moments, caught completely off his guard by the ethereal quality of Ishida's pale body, shown so boldly in the silvery moonlight that streamed through the open window. A second later, Ichigo was shutting the window and closing the blinds, jilting the lovely scene with a dusky darkness.

"You've gotta be kidding me!! Even after all the shit we went through today?!"

He just couldn't believe that Ishida wanted screw! Not when they'd just come back in sore and completely exhausted from kicking serious Hollow ass. 'This proves it, Uryuu. You...are a freaking freak of nature.'

"Especially after all the shit we went through today."

Like a predator stalking its chosen prey, Ishida approached Ichigo until only an inch separated them from head to foot. Lust positively oozed from the dark-haired teen's body, his hot breath ghosting over companion's mouth.

"Unless... you're not up to it, Kurosaki," he drolled, lips curled up in a smug smirk.

There wasn't even a pause between the last syllable of his name and Ichigo's hands clamping on Ishida's upper biceps. He pulled the Quincy Archer close and crushed their mouths together, tongue diving into Ishida's mouth hungrily. To the Shinnigami's surprise, his blood heated quickly, still packed with adrenaline from the fights of the day which fueled an almost ever-present lust for the strange young man he held. He had just needed a little something to spark his second wind.

Pleased with that silent answer, Ishida readily opened his mouth to Ichigo's invasion and began to undo the buttons of Ichigo's shirt with nimble fingers. He would have loudly cursed the little plastic disks had his tongue not been so wonderfully busy dueling with its partner. Pushing the shirt off Ichigo's shoulders and arms, Ishida set his fingers to undoing the redhead's slacks. He wanted his lover naked and naked now.

Growling when he met with a button fly, Ishida broke the kiss and glared at Ichigo. "Bastard. Why do you insist on wearing these damn things?!"

"Because I love to see that pissed off look on your face..." Ichigo murmured and leaned forward to murr, "Uryuu," right in Ishida's ear. It normally dragged a moan from the more slender youth, and Ichigo very much wanted to hear a moan right then.

This time was no exception. Shuddering at the sound of his own name in that rough voice, Ishida didn't bother to suppress a quiet moan. "Shut up and strip, you stupid SOB." He fumbled with the fly until impatience won out, and he ripped it open with a growl. Damn buttons!!

Buttons went flying with loud clatters, and Ichigo pulled back with a shouted, "Hey!" But Ishida lip-locked him again, and Ichigo gave a mental sigh of farewell to that particular pair of slacks. He'd have to go shopping and get more of them if it pissed the Quincy off that much.

Still trying to reach Ishida's tonsils with his tongue, he wriggled out of his ruined pants and kicked them aside, sending his boxers with them. It felt good to have his erection free of the confines of his stuffy school uniform anyway. He stepped on the toe of each sock and shoved them out of his way once they were off and then came the dilemma. Pull back, break the kiss and rid himself of his shirt, or find a way to get it off without doing so heinous a thing? In the end, he didn't have to decide because they needed to break for air.

Gasping, Ishida grabbed the bottom of Ichigo's undershirt and yanked it up over Ichigo's head...twisting the fabric around Ichigo's wrists to trap his hands. Before the redhead could protest, Ishida slammed him against the wall and trapped his mouth in a savage kiss. Holding Ichigo's hands captive above his head, the Archer trailed his free hand down his lover's centerline. He would punish the Shinnigami for daring to wear so evil a thing as pants with a button fly!

Ichigo's head softly thudded against the wall as he moaned into Ishida's mouth. For a second, Ichigo just closed his eyes and coasted on the sensations that the brunet was raising on and under his skin, but then that little voice in the back of his mind screamed at him. It told him to snap out of it! That he was no bottom! And Ichigo began to struggle against the twisted fabric of his shirt, determined to free his wrists as Ishida Uryuu's fingers drifted lower, centimeter by centimeter, slowly robbing him of thought and strength.

Fingertips calloused by years of archery and sewing traced the musculature in Ichigo's abdomen, missing his full arousal by scant millimeters on their way down to the hollow of his hip. An incessant tongue dove even farther back into the red head’s mouth, stealing his breath and any ability to fight back. Just because he loved to hear Ichigo reduced to begging, Ishida leaned close until they could each feel the heat radiating from each other's groin, their throbbing lengths so close they could almost feel each other's pulse.

Ichigo had tangled his wrists in his shirt even more hopelessly by then and finally had to pull out of the kiss. Frustrated, he growled and bit Ishida's bottom lip, very nearly drawing blood.

"Stop dickin’ around and leggo, you sadistic bastard!"

"No." Smirking evilly, Ishida simply ran his tongue over his abused lip and continued to stroke Ichigo's abdomen. It was unbelievably erotic to have Ichigo bound and at his mercy. The first had never happened before, and the second occurred so rarely it only made Ishida feel all the more horny. "Not until you swear."

"Swear?" Ichigo's left eyebrow rose and twitched. "Swear what?!"

His eyes were focused unerringly on Ishida's tongue as it stroked his lower lip. The sudden urge to pull that tongue into his mouth and suck it hit him hard, but he shook it off with a shake of his head that sent a few beads of sweat flying. It was almost summer time after all, and his room was near to sweltering with the window closed.

Ishida watched one droplet of sweat slide down Ichigo's face to his chin where the dark-haired teen lapped it up. "That you," another lick to the strong chin, "will never," nibble, "wear button fly pants," kiss, “again.”

"Like hell. They're comfortable...not that I need to explain my dressing habits to you, you deranged...seamstress!" Ichigo challenged around a low groan as he once again closed his eyes. It was taking a lot of control not to try to thrust his hips forward into Ishida's, but it would be a tactic in error because he knew the little bastard would just move out of reach.

"Let me go!" The Shinnigami began his struggles anew.

"Deranged seamstress, hm?" Quick as a striking snake, Ishida pulled Ichigo over to his desk chair, sat him down in it, and tied him to it with his own shirt. With a very secure knot. Smirking, Ishida stood in front of him and leaned down until their noses almost brushed. "Fine, then I'll just leave you there and go home."

"What?! Wait! No!! You can't do that! Ishida, you bastard! STOP!!!!" Ichigo huffed and caught his breath and his composure when Ishida stopped by the pile of his clothes Ichigo had dropped by the door. There was a moment of struggle and then Ichigo grumbled, "Fine."


"Yes. Fine. I won't wear button fly slacks again, you freaking Button Nazi! Now, let me go!"

"I didn't hear the word 'promise' or 'I swear not to' anywhere in that."

Ichigo gave Ishida his very best look of “I don’t give a shit and I’m not really listening to you anymore, but don’t press your luck.”

Completely unfazed - he was used to Ichigo's glares of doom - Ishida shrugged and turned back to his pile of clothes.

"Ahg!! Fine!! I promise not to wear button fly slacks again, damn it!"

And the next thing he knew, Ishida was straddling his lap as the dark-haired teen reached around the chair to undo the knot.

"Now, was that so hard?" the brunet purred.

"Shut up, Uryuu, or I'll knock you out so you can't run that damn mouth of yours," Ichigo threatened as his hands cradled the brunet's waist. Pulling the Quincy close to his body, the Shinnigami rolled his hips forward, moaning as their groins rubbed together with delicious friction.


"Ahhn..." Ishida moaned, his mouth falling open to gasp breathlessly as he at last gave in to his arousal's demands. They'd brushed death many times that day and it had left Ishida hungry - starving - for intimacy, for sex. How many more opportunities would they have to be together like this when almost every day they tempted death? How much longer before a Hollow killed one of them? Pale, elegant hands clutched Ichigo's shoulders as Ishida ground against him, his breath coming in rough pants. How much more of this before...?

Strong arms wrapped around Ishida's slender body, pulling him snug against a lean, hard body. Ichigo ground back and attacked Ishida's neck with even, white teeth, nipping then licking or kissing the bitten spot. They were comrades in arms and companions in every day life, even if they didn't act like it sometimes. Ishida had given him quite a few scares that day and Ichigo was secretly very glad that the Quincy could pretty much hold his own. It...wasn't easy to admit most times, but...Ichigo really liked having the freaky, obnoxious Button Nazi around. So, instead of speaking the words, he said them physically as he rose from the desk chair and carried the Archer to the bed, gently laying him back on the neatly made up mattress.

The red-head's weight came down on the pale, slender body beneath him, pressing Ishida into the mattress as Ichigo settled between his legs.

Ishida reached up and pulled Ichigo down to him for a deep, passionate kiss. Lean legs wrapped around a slender waist and the Archer lifted his hips in a silent, familiar request, groaning as their erections rubbed together. He wanted to feel that addictive closeness of their joined bodies, that infinite acceptance and companionship and...friendship? Yes. A strange friendship, but friendship nonetheless.

Breaking the kiss, Ichigo murred and nuzzled Ishida's cheek, pausing when the bridge of his nose bumped warm metal. Ishida's glasses... Propping himself up on his elbows, Ichigo looked down into his lover's face and then reached up to finger the very frame that he'd accidentally nudged.

"They'll get broken," he murmured before gently pulling them off. Ishida's face was really very handsome, almost beautiful when it was exposed like this. Ichigo smiled - it was really more of a smirk - and pushed himself up, glasses in hand. Ishida's legs gave him a moment's pause, but then the Quincy let them fall back to the bed, allowing Ichigo to slip off the mattress and stand. He set the glasses carefully on the desktop, then reached into the back of one of the drawers, pulling out a tube of lubricant. It was normally used for a little self-love every now and again, but right now was the perfect time to truly employ it to its fullest. Normally, he and Ishida went with whatever they could find. This time, they were going to do it absolutely right. He tossed it at the Archer as he straightened from reaching into the drawer.

"It was the only flavor they had left. The only lube really," Ichigo explained and turned towards the bed again. He added with a rueful smirk, "Just my luck, ne?"

Bringing the tube close to his nose so he could read it, Ishida smirked. "Strawberry, huh? It would be your luck. And I bet it tastes nothing like you." He spread his legs in invitation and handed the tube to Ichigo as he settled on the bed again. Without his glasses, everything was just one big blur with occasional splotches of color - the most prominent one being Ichigo's bright hair - but in this darkness, it didn't really matter. He didn't need to see clearly to know the expressions on his lover's face.

Ichigo took the tube and popped the cap, the strong scent of artificial strawberries filling the air around them.

"Care to find out?"

A slick finger suddenly traced Ishida's lips, coming and going so quickly that Ishida might never have known he'd been touched except for the smooth wetness on his lips.

“Hmmm, I was right. It's not even close,” Ishida murmured after licking his lips. He reached up with his legs, hooking them around the kneeling redhead's waist, and pulled impatiently.

"Easy, killer," the Shinnigami mumbled, rolling his eyes, and more thoroughly coated his pointer and middle fingers on his right hand after pushing Ishida's legs wide apart again.

"Relax," he murmured and, placing one hand on the smooth, sensitive inside of Ishida's right thigh, Ichigo reached beneath the Quincy Archer's balls and rubbed gently at his entrance, coating it with the lube and coaxing it to let his fingers in. When he finally began to work his pointer finger into Ishida's tight body, Ichigo leaned forward and lapped gently at the large vein running the underside of the brunet's heavy erection.

"Nngh..." Panting, Ishida fisted his hands in Ichigo's wild hair and spread his legs farther apart as he willed his body to accept the intrusion. It still felt strange even after all the times they'd done this, but it no longer felt uncomfortable. A low hum of desire echoed in his throat as the first finger slid into him, his body loosening readily as it remembered previous pleasure. Ichigo's tongue on his length only made him more impatient, and he lifted his hips demandingly.

Ichigo’s grin was wicked. With his left hand, he soothingly stroked Ishida’s right, inner thigh. With his right, he fingered his lover, stretching Ishida’s body to accommodate Ichigo’s thick length. And with his mouth, he mercilessly teased Ishida’s heavily engorged member, tongue swirling over the underside of the head and just barely brushing the slit.

A second finger finally worked its way up into Ishida’s body, and Ichigo began to pump the digits in and out, scissoring them occasionally or tipping and rotating them. For the most part, he ignored the pleading rise and fall of Ishida’s hips, reveling in the way that the Quincy’s muscles spasmed and trembled as his body was brought the pleasant burn of pleasure.

Sweat beaded on Ishida's skin as everything Ichigo did set his blood on fire. He squirmed and panted and whined, doing everything he could to get more than those teasing touches to his erection and to express his impatience. Bastard Ichigo! Why did he have to take so long to prepare him?!

Probing fingers brushed against Ishida's prostate and he cried out, every nerve in his body firing at once. His back arched, lifting him off the bed for a moment before he fell back down. The brunet writhed, trying to brush himself against those fingers again, as he tugged at Ichigo's hair. He was ready, dammit!

That was Ichigo's cue. He withdrew completely, rocking back onto his heels and grabbing up the tube of lubricant again. He coated himself thoroughly, eyes sliding shut as he pumped his arousal a few extra times. The familiar, cool slickness over his burning, aching flesh was always a welcome and pleasant sensation, but a quite whimper from his lover drew him, and he crawled up Ishida's body. He kissed a path to Ishida's mouth, nibbled the trembling bottom lip, and positioned himself at the Archer's entrance.

Lean legs wrapped around his waist and squeezed impatiently. Long fingers tangled in orange hair and pulled Ichigo close for a hard, demanding kiss. Ishida wanted it hard, he wanted it fast, and he wanted it now.

With a low growl, Ichigo gripped the bedsheets beneath them and shoved into Ishida’s body with one solid thrust, seating himself to the hilt. He moaned low into Ishida’s mouth and began to set a rhythm with his hips that he matched with his tongue. One hand left the sheets and toyed with pert nipples, pinching and rolling them until they were hard, and then that hand trekked south. Light fingertips brushed down the vein that throbbed with Ishida’s lust, but there was something that could make this even better…

Reaching over Ichigo grabbed the lubricant once more and popped the lid. The scent of strawberries thickened around them and he squeezed a large puddle of the cool gel onto Ishida’s stomach, breaking the kiss to look into the Archer’s face as it slid into his navel. Not minding the waste of expensive lube, Ichigo dipped his four fingertips into the pool and reached for Ishida’s twitching erection never once breaking the stride of his thrusts.

"Ahn! God, Ichi-go... M-more..."

The Quincy writhed beneath him, hips lifting to meet each thrust, back arching with every touch to his nipples or stomach or erection, chest heaving as he panted and moaned and hissed in bliss. Blunt nails dug into Ichigo's back as Ishida pressed his head back into the pillow, mouth hanging open in a breathless gasp as the cold pool of lube on his hot abdomen made him shiver and the cool hand on his burning length made him tremble with need. The thick, fiery length moving within him set off explosions of color behind his tightly shut eyelids and he moaned his lover's name, demanding more, begging for more.

“Like that?” Ichigo purred in his lover’s ear and picked the pace up a bit, thrusting a little harder and a little faster. His fingers drew random Kanji characters on Ishida’s burning body, occasionally pumping the Quincy’s throbbing hard on or rolling pebbled nipples between slick fingers, playing Ishida’s body like a familiar and fine-tuned instrument.


Tightening his legs, Ishida latched his mouth onto Ichigo's neck, fiercely sucking and biting at the redhead's pulse. He growled in pleasure at his lover's taste, spiced with sweat and musk.

The Shinnigami moaned and closed his eyes before grinning wickedly. He grabbed Ishida's erection, giving the appendage a good squeeze before he began to pump him in earnest, matching the rhythm of his hips. He wanted to hear Ishida scream as he came.

All Ishida could hear was the rapid pounding of his own heart as Ichigo's hips slammed into his, over and over and over. The hand on his erection stole the breath right out of his lungs, making it a chore to breathe and bringing the fall so much closer. Tangling his fingers in Ichigo's wild hair, Ishida slammed their mouths together for a furious kiss. Breathing was overrated.

Ichigo returned the kiss fiercely, putting as much energy into his actions now as he would have put into a life and death battle only this time…he wanted to take that fall and die that little death. He could feel the edge getting closer and closer and his hips mirrored his eagerness to take the plunge. Sweat leaked down his face and back making the nail marks left by the Archer burn pleasantly. Now, Ichigo was seriously putting his back into his thrusts, rocking the bed against the wall with loud thumps.

Not able to hold back anymore, Ishida broke away to let out a loud cry of pure bliss, his back arching as every muscle tensed and his hot cum splashed against their stomachs. His insides spasmed and clenched around Ichigo's length, tightening until it was almost painful. Ishida hung there for a moment, suspended in ecstasy, before falling onto the bed with a sharp gasp. He trembled with aftershocks, his whole body loose and limp. Thought was a completely forgotten ability.

The seizing of Ishida's already tight channel pulled him over the edge without a fight and Ichigo's long, low moan of, "Uryuuuu~," was both loud and filled with pleasure. Ichigo's body tensed in a very similar manner to Ishida's back curling as he thrust a few more times into Ishida's shuddering body and then he collapsed, sprawling on the Quincy like a very warm and comfortably heavy, panting blanket. The Shinnigami closed his eyes and buried his face in Ishida's shoulder as the pleasure continued roll over him fading very gradually.

Shaky arms wrapped around Ichigo, holding him close as Ishida's shuddery breaths bathed his shoulder and the Archer's trembling lips caught the beads of sweat on his skin.

"Ichigo..." Ishida whispered, happily basking in the relaxed bliss he always experienced after their joining.

“Mm,” Ichigo purred in agreement and slowly rolled off the slender body beneath him only to pull Ishida close, tucking the dark head under his chin in silence. He was enjoying the moment as well, mind fuzzy in the afterglow.

Minutes ticked by in comfortable quiet, neither young man wanting to move or make a sound.

Eventually, Ishida slowly pulled away just enough to look up at Ichigo. He cupped the strong jaw in his palm, tilting Ichigo's head down so their eyes could meet. Lips parted as if for speech, but no words were said. Stubborn pride kept them at bay, yet his eyes spoke volumes more than Ishida could ever hope to say with words.

In response, Ichigo only smirked, but it was a soft smirk unlike the normal smirks he presented to the world. His own eyes were a warm brown in what little light there was that could be seen by. Without a sound, the Shinnigami brushed soft lips to the Quincy's brow and tightened his arms, laying his cheek against the Archer's temple. Words weren't really needed when they could say so much more without them.

Smiling, Ishida lightly kissed the Shinnigami's throat and let the day's exhaustion carry him into deep, restful sleep.


*The Next Morning*


Ichigo woke him up the next morning by stretching and shifting and yawning until Ichigo himself was awake. They lay there for several more minutes, a tangle of limbs and hearts. Then Ichigo slowly sat up and looked down at the black-haired youth beside him.

"Shower?" he asked and reached out to caress an almost forgotten slice that ran horizontally from front to back on the outside of Ishida's bicep. Ichigo knew he was lucky, being able to leave his body to fight Hollows. Ishida, however, could not and paid the price in flesh.


The Archer climbed out of bed and, completely awake, went to the bathroom. Without bothering to wait for Ichigo, Ishida started the shower and helped himself to the redhead's shampoo.

Ichigo entered bathroom and shower a matter of moments later. "Give," he grunted and took the shampoo right out of Ishida's hands.

"You really should switch your shampoo. That one isn't the correct one for your hair type," Ishida commented as he scrubbed his dark head, working out all the sweat and grime from the day before.

"Tch. Whatever," Ichigo grumbled and kept scrubbing his own hair, ignoring the tight fit with the two of them in the tub, showering together.

"Seriously. You can do a lot of damage to your hair if you don't use the right shampoo."

"Then buy me the right stuff and or shut up. Move, I need to rinse."

"Why waste my money when I now you're not going to use it?"

"Ok, fine. Buy me something that won't make me smell like a woman, and I'll actually use it."

Ishida smirked. "What if I want you to smell like a woman?"

Before he knew what had hit him, Ishida was slammed to the wall and pinned by one strong forearm across his chest. Ichigo's wet bangs did a good job of shielding his eyes as his other hand found Ishida's thigh, slipped past, caressed one firm buttcheek and slid one finger home, wriggling it suggestively.

"If you ever want this again, you'll take that back."

"Make me."

Ishida's smirk only grew, even as he felt his knees go a little weak at his lover's touch. He knew very well that Ichigo would never be able to keep that kind of threat. They desired each other too much.

Ichigo grunted and bit the side Ishida’s neck close to his shoulder, and if that didn’t leave a bruise then the suction he applied afterwards would. The finger still inside probed and reached until it found what it was looking for…

“The one button Ishida Uryuu can’t hate,” he mused and pressed it again.

Any retort the Archer could have had was stillborn, and he moaned as his blood heated, the touch to his prostate making his whole body tremble. That just wasn't fair...

"Or refuse," Ichigo added and let his arm slip down until he could pump Ishida's slowly hardening member as he rubbed the Quincy's sweet spot in the same rhythm. It wasn't long before the writhing, moaning Ishida went over the edge. Grinning, Ichigo dropped to his knees and licked the black-haired teen clean. Then he stood and stretched, ignoring his own half-hard length.

"It wouldn't be quite the same...if I smelled like a woman, now, would it?"

"Shut up and move. I need to rinse." Scowling, Ishida wobbled into the spray and chased the suds out of his hair with his fingers. 'Cheater.'

The Shinnigami chuckled triumphantly and reached for the bath puff and the body soap. "Come here and let's see what we have to patch up."

"I'll do it myself," Ishida said stubbornly, snatching the soap out of Ichigo's hand.

"Poor sport," Ichigo accused and handed him the puff as well.

"...Please tell me that's your sister's."

"What? This?" Ichigo lifted the puff and looked from it to Ishida.

"Yes, that."

Ichigo's expression went flat. "It's mine. It works better than a wash cloth."

Ishida stared at him for a moment before taking the puff. "And you call me a freak."

"Button Nazi."

"Over-confident ass."


"Brainless gorilla."

Ichigo stepped close and grabbed a handful of pale rump. "Tight ass."

Now whether that was an insult or a compliment to end the name-calling was left up to Ishida.

"And you love it." Choice number two.

Pressing him back, Ichigo's lips found the already darkening bruise on Ishida's neck.

"Yeah. Like I love your mouth."

Long fingers traced a path down the Shinnigami's front to his growing hard-on.

"Is that a hint, Kurosaki?" Ishida asked with a smug smirk.

"What do you think, Uryuu?" Ichigo purred into the Archer's ear and pressed closer.

"I think you need to work on being subtle." Ishida grabbed Ichigo's arms and flipped them around, pressing the redhead up against the shower wall. Kissing a trail down his lover's body, Ishida wrapped a hand around the straining length and lapped at the leaking head as he settled on his knees.

Letting out a pleased moan, Ichigo let his head fall back against the shower wall, flattened one hand against the wall at his side and tangled the other in silky black hair.

"Oh, yeah. Just like that," he murmured and closed his eyes with a sticky swallow. Ishida's jab went in one ear and right out the other.

Ishida made quick work of bringing Ichigo to the edge with his mouth, denying him release a couple times by clamping his fingers around the base of Ichigo's length before letting him cum in revenge for the "seamstress" comment. "Button Nazi" Ishida didn't mind so much, but "seamstress" got on his nerves. Finished swallowing down the Shinnigami's cum, Ishida stood back up and set to rinsing the soap off his body.

It was a few minutes before Ichigo could stand without supporting the wall. It took him less time to wash up and rinse off. They toweled themselves dry and then Ichigo caught the Quincy's elbow.

"Let me look at that," he stated and gestured to the deep scratch on Ishida's arm.

"It's fine. I'll take care of it when I get home." Wrapping a towel around his waist, Ishida headed for the door. He wanted to get his glasses.

"Ishida..." Ichigo caught his arm. "My dad's a doctor. Just...let me bandage it."

He didn't want to have to say please, but after last night...he was becoming less inclined to care what everyone else might say if they found out that he, Kurosaki Ichigo, was having wild and wonderful sex with the freaky sewing maniac, Ishida Uryuu.

"Alright," Ishida said after a moment. "At least let me get my glasses first. I hate not being able to see anything."

Nodding, Ichigo let him leave, wrapped a towel around his hips, and pulled out the First Aid Kit, prepping to dress the wound.

The Archer returned a minute later, pushing his glasses up his nose...and wearing a pair of Ichigo's boxers. His own clothes were all dirty, and his spare change of clothes was in his backpack down by the front door. Rather than trek downstairs for his backpack, Ishida had opted for Ichigo's clothes instead. Mainly because he knew it would annoy the redhead.

Ichigo looked up...and scowled, but...there was a certain arousing charm to seeing Ishida wandering around in his clothing, especially his underwear. Gesturing towards the closed toilet lid, Ichigo grumbled, "Sit."

Smirking - he loved it when Ichigo scowled at him - Ishida did as asked.

Grabbing a cotton ball, Ichigo pressed it to the open mouth of the bottle of pure alcohol in his hand and tipped it then set the bottle aside.

"This might sting," he murmured and took a little sadistic pleasure as payback for the Quincy wearing his boxer shorts without permission when he dabbed the cotton ball against the wound.

Ishida hissed as the alcohol burned his cut and bonked Ichigo on the head. "Yeah, like having your hand cut off might hurt! Bastard!"

"What's the matter? Can't take the pain?"

Tossing the cotton ball out, the red head grabbed the triple antibiotic ointment and smeared a little on his finger before gently dragging it over the cut. Next came the gauze and then the cloth wrap. Finished, the Shinnigami straightened and smirked.


"Hmph." Not bothering with a thank you after that jab, Ishida stood up and headed downstairs for his backpack so he could get dressed. It was about time he go home to do his schoolwork, anyway.

Meanwhile, Ichigo went and got dressed himself and then headed downstairs, calling, "Want breakfast?"


Meh, homework could wait. Ishida dressed in the entranceway and he went to the kitchen, tucking in his shirt as he did so.

"Have a seat. It'll be a minute."

Ichigo was already busily preparing to make breakfast.

It wasn't long before the front door burst in and Ichigo's father called, "WE'RE HOOOO~~~~~~~ME!!"

Ishida cringed. Just what they needed. This was why he preferred to have their trysts at his place.

"Damn, Dad!! Do you have to be so LOUD!?" Ichigo shouted as he also cringed and nearly broke the yoke of an egg.

"At least you haven't had to put up with him for the past eighteen hours," Karin grumbled as she shuffled into the kitchen. "G'morning, Ichi-nii. G'morning...what's your name again?"

"Ishida. Good morning."

"IIIIIIII~~~~~CHIGO!" His father burst into the room and immediately attacked with a roundhouse kick.

Ichigo immediately dodged and countered with a flying kick to the chin that sent his dad...well, flying. He then turned back to the eggs and served them onto plates. The toast popped up and he buttered and jellied the crisped slices of bread and then settled at the table, sliding Ishida's plates to him.

"Stupid old man," he grumbled, not really in the mood to deal with his family at the moment. Not so much his sisters as his father.

"Ohayo, Nii-chan. Ishida-san," Yuzu greeted them cheerfully as she came in carrying the last of the luggage. She had no sooner set it down next to the kitchen doorway then she was setting about to clean up after Ichigo's cooking. Ichigo ate on unmindful of his sister cleaning up his mess. That was just...what she did.

"Wonderful comeback!! So, what did you do last night?" Ichigo's father asked, dropping a hand on his shoulder. "You didn't have a party, did you? You didn't go wild and have a bunch of girls over and make a mess, did you?"

"Noisy," Karin muttered, glaring at the strange old man. Why did she have to have him for a father?

Yuzu cleaned on, humming quietly and seemingly ignoring the whole ordeal transpiring behind her.

"No," Ichigo mumbled and then looked up at his dad. "Why the hell would I?"

"To get things like THIS!!!" A rough finger poked the large bruise on his neck. "A-HA!! You DID have a party last night!!"

Watching quietly, Ishida thanked the gods for the ability to keep his blush from surfacing...and hoped his shirt covered up the hickey on his neck.

A heavy scowl took over the Shinnigami's entire face. "I tripped while walking home and landed on my books funny. Got a problem with that, old man?"

The red head was on his feet, right up in his father's face. He didn't have a girlfriend so they couldn’t say much of anything really.

"You mean you didn't get it from a girl?" His father pouted in disappointment.

"No, Dad. I didn't." Ichigo finished the last of his breakfast, thankful that his father wasn't always the brightest crayon in the box.

"C'mon, Ishida. We need to study more and we're not going to get it done with everyone home. Your place alright?" he asked as he placed his plates in the sink.

"Yes. I'll go make sure I didn't leave any of my books in your room." After grabbing his bag from the foyer, Ishida went up to Ichigo's room and folded his dirty clothes, tucking them into his bag. He put Ichigo's clothes - including the ruined slacks - into the hamper in the bathroom and went back downstairs. Ichigo's father was still pestering him about not having a party as Ishida pulled on his shoes.

Ichigo finally emerged into the foyer and started to pull on his own shoes about three minutes later, walking out on his father mid-rant. Once his shoes were on, he slung his book bag over his shoulder and headed for the door with a, "Let's go," coolly tossed over his shoulder.

Nodding, Ishida followed him out of the house, both teens ignoring the old man's pleas for them to come back and tell him what happened last night.

Later that day, Yuzu had a very interesting conversation with her father involving the bruise on Ichigo's neck, the bruise she'd spotted on Ishida's neck that just barely peeked over the edge his collar, Ichigo's ruined slacks, and a strange stain on Ichigo's comforter.


Second Authors' Note: There's more to come. We ask for some feedback before we continue. The amount of feedback will affect the speed with which we update.

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