Adult-FanFiction.org : Bleach

Switch	By : kiki1983 Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Renji/Ichigo Views: 2727 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or make any money off this work.

Chapter List
- 1-Switch
- 1
A/N: Okay everyone so this is my first yaoi FF...It came about thanks to my desire to push my muse's boundaries...plus I like reading the stuff too, always wanted to write some. Also thank the folks at livejournal's sprinkink for the prompt, "Ichigo/Renji: first time on top - Quit complaining, I can see how much you like it." This is explicit, don't whine that I didn't warn you, if you don't like boy!sex hit the "back" button people.

“Hey, there’s a hell butterfly outside my window,” Renji commented in a childlike sing song, the grin on his face not on par with its usual wolfishness thanks to the analgesic herbs Unohana-taichō had given him when he’d arrived at the fourth division.
“Hold on Abarai-fukutaichō,” Hanatarō’s soft voice called out as the bandage-swathed redhead attempted to sit up, as the hell butterfly fluttered against the barrier of the window trying to get to the wounded man. The small healer quickly leaned in from his position by his patient’s futon a hand braced on the fukutaichō’s shoulder to hold him down, his free hand sliding along the abdomen muscles straining to sit him up pulsing a specific paralyzing kidō through them until Renji dropped back into his bed. Then he stood and intercepted the bug before Renji continued to disobeyed him and rip out all of his stitches, the moment the temporary paralysis faded.
“It’s Ouka,” Renji announced just as slurred as his previous observation. “Kuchiki-taichō’s,” He lifted his hand out toward Hanatarō and glanced down at his bandaged abdomen like he was surprised to find himself still horizontal.
Hanatarō moved back to sit beside the futon before letting the butterfly find its designated target. They were both startled when Rukia’s voice spoke instead of Byakuya’s, mostly because the taichō never shouted.
“Baka what were you thinking teaching Ichigo how to unlock the Kuchiki Senkaimon! He heard about your stupid accident and is flash stepping to the fourth as I speak.” Then came a delicate snort. “You’re lucky it was nii-sama’s bankai or he likely would have killed Kurosaki and I’d be warning you of him shunpoing toward you.”
“That’s silly Rukia, he’d already be here,” Renji countered the butterfly, sticking his tongue out at Ouka.
“Never mind that,” Rukia’s voice came after a brief pause of thought. “You’d be dead by now.”
Ouka gave a flutter and Renji focused a bit of his reiatsu to make a return message and a startling bark of laughter left him when he felt how washed out his spiritual energy was, what with the dumbass idea of provoking Byakuya into a spar...full bankai, the subsequent ass whoopin’ and then healing those efforts. “Domo arigato Rukia, tell taichō sumimasen.”
It took Hanatarō waving at the butterfly impatiently to get it to leave Renji’s finger. “One more treatment for today,” Hanatarō’s cheeks blushed suddenly and Renji was coherent enough by now to notice, the initial herbs he’d gotten when he’d arrived battered and bleeding at the forth division were almost out of his system.
“Ya okay Yamada-san?”
“Oh, um,” He blushed even brighter as he tried to explain himself with stutters and unintelligible mumbling. Renji pieced together something about not being left alone through the night and should he send an unseated from the fourth to sit at the fukutaichō’s bedside or would Ichigo be...?
“I’ll be okay I think,” Renji eyed the small shinigami as he prepared the area and his patient. So this pipsqueak knew? Well damn, I suppose I’m not very discreet, not as discreet as the kid wants me to be at least.
The change from blushing uke to self-assured professional was almost a shock. “Like I thought! You’ve popped some stitches,” Hanatarō scolded.
Since this magic trick had happened a few times through the day he’d spent under the little healer’s care, it wasn’t as startling this time, even if the contrast was considerably more obvious this time. Unohana-taichō had taught this one that deep bone-chilling...thing she managed to do with just a flash of her eyes; sadistic woman had to add a smile.
At least Hanatarō used his sparingly.
“Ya ain’t gonna sew ‘em back up here are ya?” Renji asked as he let professional hands pull the blankets of his futon down to uncover the bandages decorating nearly sixty percent of his body. Damn petals...
“I’m just going to focus a little more on those wounds. Movement in your legs should return this time around,” Hanatarō said the somber of his eyes peeling back momentarily to flash a not-at-all-like-Unohana-taichō smile.
He actually meant leg movement without pain. He’d managed to drag his ass from outer western Rukongai to the fourth just fine.
“Um, ya might wanna wait a second,” Renji murmured as a very obvious reiatsu made itself known only a few shunpo away. “I know ya need to focus the reiatsu.”
“Hai,” Hanatarō glanced back through the open bedroom door just as the front door slid open with way too much force.
“Oi!” Renji shouted his lips curling into a grin. “Don’t break my fuckin’ door baka!”
Ichigo was very suddenly at the door, his reiatsu a writhing, churning pressure.
“Domo arigato Abarai-fukutaichō!” Hanatarō whined with feeling as he realized that the orange-headed teen’s reiatsu when emotional was more than a little disrupting. “I might have ruptured your internal organs.”
“Git yer ass outta here or calm down,” Renji ordered and Ichigo moved into the room, leaning Zangetsu in the corner since he couldn’t see Zabimaru and sat under the window a few feet away from the foot of Renji’s futon.
As they glared at each other Hanatarō lifted his hands the moment he felt Ichigo’s reiatsu pull as far back as his half of the room, which was good for the substitute. Hanatarō quietly let his spiritual pressure fill the kidō silently chanting through his head in a steady rhythm, a bright flare of green reiatsu erupting out of his hands like gouts of flame. “I need you to calm down Abarai-fukutaichō...Kurosaki-san you’re not helping.”
Renji almost laughed at the expression that came over Ichigo’s face as Hanatarō treated him to his serious and disapproving blue eyes and admonishing assertive tone.
“Can I talk?” Ichigo asked him as Hanatarō moved to hold his glowing hands over Renji’s bandaged chest.
“If you can both stay calm while doing it.”
Ichigo nodded totally unnerved by the sharp aggressive tone coming from such an obvious uke like Hanatarō. He met Renji’s gaze again and aside from the glaze of painkillers and the untreatable physiological pain that stemmed from a badass getting thoroughly whooped, the vice captain looked ecstatic.
At the jubilant expression on the wounded shinigami’s face Ichigo found it easier to manage his reiatsu as those eyes reminded him he hadn’t seen Renji for over two months.
For some reason--he assumed it had just spilled out of his ear--he didn’t remember the angry barb he was about to hiss. He just stared at the half-bandaged face, all the concern and fear he’d been barricading back with anger spilling out. Well fuck anger wasn’t really his way.
Who? The violent, growling voice bubbled from inside and Ichigo was glad for once to have his hollow to focus his reiatsu inward and away from Hanatarō’s healing hands. Ask him who fuckin’ did this Ichi-baka or I ain’t going’ nowhere!
“W-who...what happened?”
Since his reiatsu was busy healing his wounds alongside Hanatarō’s Renji couldn’t feel the intent of the teen’s reiatsu but they’d known each other long enough...He had seen his brown eyes change, seen that mask appear both voluntarily and not.
The hollow didn’t appear as often these days, especially after Shinji’s help but Renji had enough inner dialogue with Zabimaru to recognize when others were thus engaged. Especially when it wasn’t the usual zanpakutō conversation subject of “gaining strength and wisdom.”
The only person Renji had seen anguished like Ichigo was Hisagi-senpai.
“I think that should wait ‘til Yamada-san’s done here,” Renji glanced over to the healer’s serious gaze, knowing the assertiveness that had come over him was distracting Ichigo; along with the inner hollow.
Ichigo was in total agreement for once over the conversation topic, given that as soon as he’d gotten over his king fucking another guy the hollow had shown himself to be a very possessive seme. “How bad is it?”
To help, Hanatarō answered, “Mostly superficial but extensive...” He glanced at the boy and for a moment fumbled over medical jargon in his head before intelligent brown eyes met his. Oh, that’s right his dad... “The real damage--"
“Ya almost done?” Renji interrupted gently and the small healer nodded.
“Hai,” Hanatarō quickly collected all of his things. “Kurosaki-san with the kidō treatments and the kidō-houtai he should be up and about tomorrow morning.” He zipped his medical kit and clipped it back around his torso, snug on his back as he turned and met the teenager’s eyes. “Do not agitate him, you can stop the healing that’s going on now, and even reverse it.”
With a chill going down his spine Ichigo nodded silently at the dark-haired shinigami.
“Abarai-fukutaichō,” Hanatarō turned back to Renji. “Someone from the fourth will be by in the morning to check on you.” He moved a few steps closer to Ichigo and waiting until he had the young man’s attention before he made himself say what he had to say. “Kurosaki-san I also wanted to tell you that the only real difference between healing kidō, bakudō and hadō is the intent of the reiatsu put into it.”
“Arigato Yamada-san,” Renji nodded as Hanatarō gave them each a small bow from the waist and left them to return to Unohana with his report. As he watched the dark-haired shinigami leave he told himself he had other things to focus on than weird parting comments to his lover, like said lover looking both angry with his usual measure of angsty.
“What happened?” Ichigo murmured into the silence.
“I got myself in a fight at school,” Renji teased and could tell his question hadn’t been Ichigo’s first especially when his answer was met with a murderous glare.
“Please don’t be stupid.”
“I got in a spar...started out as a practice spar...fifth seats ‘n’ up aren’t allowed ta practice in the Seireitei so most of the time when we do moral boosting division-wide drills we have an arena out in the unpopulated parts of Rukongai. We don’t need anybody showboatin’ ‘n’ bustin’ shit up, we got enough ryoka bitches doin’ that,” Renji gave an experimental flex of his toes, stretching his legs.
The grimace must have been obvious because Ichigo was suddenly beside his futon, a hand fluttering between them as the teen tried to find a spot uninjured/unbandaged to touch. “Are you okay?”
“No I’m fucked up, ya got eyes...”
“Teme, Renji!” Ichigo shook his head, moving his gaze to the expanse of tan skin and white bandages. “Who did this?”
“I ain’t sendin’ my big bad vizard boyfriend ta beat bullies up fer me. I kick ass all on my own,” Renji argued, even if he was sort of physical proof against it at the moment. “But domo fer th’ offer Baby.”
“Tell me Renji. I’m not gonna get all possessive and ‘that’s my man, bitch’.”
Renji let out a bark of laughter as he imagined him doing just that. “Yeah right! If any part o’ you feels like that then--"
“Renji I...” Ichigo sighed and ran an irritated hand over his face knowing that the shinigami knew him well enough (hollow included) to be hesitant with this particular information. “I just wanna know how bad it is...Obviously you’re not dead so I won’t be killing anyone no matter how much I want to!”
Shaking his head Renji managed another laugh. “Okay, only because I want ya ta appreciate the situation...but...”
“Fuck...what?”
“Strip.”
“What!”
“I ain’t askin’ fer a show, jus’ get th’ clothes off,” Renji was glad the last of the medicine was almost out of his system. He could feel just how healed he was and how far to push the kidō-houtai (a trick he’d learned in the eleventh division). Plus with the half-assed way Ichigo contained his reiatsu these days there was a certain amount--miniscule for most, small for Ichigo--of absorption the outside of the bandages did.
“Renji--” Ichigo grumbled as if protesting, but his fingers were already attacking his obi.
“Shut-up!” Renji sighed exasperated and the teen clamped his teeth together obediently and instead showed defiance with a rude face. “Oh, yeah try and act like a kid...domo...”
“Fuck you.”
“Uh-huh,” Renji made sure Ichigo knew he was watching as he fumbled with the rest of his shihakushō.
“W-what?” Ichigo asked as Renji made an appreciative noise and nodded. “So I’m supposed to like being ordered to undress?”
“Of course you’re a fuckin’ kinky bitch behind closed doors...but I know ya still wouldn’t step foot outta those doors naked,” Renji teased.
Even though he was half-naked Ichigo froze, mid-disrobement to stare at Renji with a nervous question in his eyes. “What? Are you gonna kick me out?” It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been tricked into being less than decent in less than private places.
“No dumbass I’m gonna tell ya who did this ta me and all that shit takes time to get back on if ya don’t wanna look stupid.” Renji saw the uncertainty in the boy evaporate before he continued. “Plus I’m already naked.”
“You’re covered in bandages!”
“So? S’only a fundoshi under here,” Renji watched him finish disrobing, not a stitch to cover the enticing view.
“Did you want that off too?”
“I ain’t gonna let ya fuck me until after I tell ya no matter how much ya sweet talk me,” Renji replied with a wolfish grin.
“F--herk!” Ichigo tried to say something but had ventured too close and Renji’s arms had been the first thing to heal all the way. His fingers curled around Zabimaru--sealed and sleeping in its scabbard under his futon--and swung his arm out just in time to catch Ichigo in midstride with one foot on the ground and over he went.
“I can’t believe you beat me...heh...” Renji murmured turning his head to catch Ichigo’s where he’d ended up sprawled out beside the futon.
“Teme...” Ichigo grunted, pushing up onto his elbows. “I coulda landed on you baka!”
“Ah thinkin’ ahead...” Renji chuckled and closed eyes as Ichigo plucked Zabimaru from his hand. “Yeah I don’t think that’s one o’ my best qualities.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t get into so many fights--"
“That’s my line.”
Ichigo only stammered a moment before clamping his mouth shut with a blush, turning away to prop Zabimaru in the corner with Zangetsu.
“Ne, thought so,” Renji snickered. “Get in bed. Oi, close the door first.”
“Are you expecting someone?” Ichigo murmured, moving to close the shoji door.
“Naw, just wanted to see yer ass a little bit longer...it’s really been too long.”
Spinning on his heel in outrage Ichigo stood there a moment before realizing he hadn’t done a thing to change the situation. “Teme!” He grumbled before lowering a hand to cover himself from Renji’s lecherous gaze.
“How many times have I seen your dick?”
“In the last two months?” Ichigo countered, moving back to the futon.
Renji kept the husky laugh in but the grin on his lips said it all. He wasn’t particular about exactly what he saw of the carrot-top, he loved the whole glorious stretch from toes to crown. Especially when he was riled enough to be blushing all the way down like that. Plus the teen was practically groping himself.
“Ya know usually it takes longer for me to get that bright a blush, Strawberry,” Renji teased drawing out the despised nick name.
“Ya know I’m beginnin’ to see why you’re all fuck up,” Ichigo growled, moving into the futon making sure to keep enough space between them, he really couldn’t tell how wounded Renji was. “Hanatarō mentioned the difference between kidōs do you know why--"
“Naw, I’ll hafta ask him tomorrow,” Renji reached over to pull Ichigo closer. “He figured out our secret.”
“What--Careful!” Ichigo hissed, hesitating since the spot he usually rested his head on was bandaged.
“If you fight me it’s worse baka!” Renji hissed tightening his arm around Ichigo’s shoulders. “Relax.”
He stopped moving but still held his head up, eyes examining each bandage. “Those are kidō-houtai?”
“Put yer damn head down! My chest ain’t that bad off,” Renji’s fingers dug into the short orange hair and pushed his cheek against the bandages over his upper chest. “Ya didn’t kiss me hello by the way...I only let it slide cuz ya might have taken my lips off.”
“I told you before I won’t let him hurt you,” Ichigo turned his head to murmur against the skin peeking at the bottom of the bandage before the next set started. “He knows who’s in charge.”
Renji nodded softly there was a reason he’d gone aggressive uke for the kid, “I know.”
“And I already told you I don’t do PDA.”
“In front of Yamada-san is hardly public,” Renji let his fingers gently scratch through the other’s short vibrant hair. “You mean ya don’t in front of people who don’t know about us,” Renji reminded, although he gave the teen no end of grief over being his dirty secret, Renji actually didn’t mind. He may have been nineteen, but Renji had come to realize the boy would need a few decades to become comfortable enough with his sexuality to realize how pointless that bullshit was.
“Renji--"
“Cuz Rukia is still bein’ really fuckin’ bitchy after she saw you cop a feel last time we were all at Urahara’s,” Renji of course hadn’t minded, even if it had sent his life-long friend off to find...
“You okay?” Ichigo lifted his head as Renji shivered violently.
“Sorry...Thinkin’ ‘bout the fight.”
“Okay, I think I’m sufficiently trapped--go on,” Ichigo gently rested his head in the usual spot, the pad of the bandages making it feel funny.
“The trap’s just a happy coincidence,” Renji moved his hand slowly down Ichigo’s neck and then back and forth over his shoulder blades. “I already told ya after I’m done yer fuckin’ me...That mean’s yer naked...coincidentally yer trapped cuz...well I don’t fuckin’ know why cuz half the Gotei wouldn’t mind a show.”
“Renji!”
The raise in reiatsu slapped through the kidō-houtai where Ichigo’s cheek rested and abrasively wherever it spilled out and touched each bandage. “Teme! Calm down--shit!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Calm. Down.” Renji hissed his muscles coiling as one of Ichigo’s hands touched one of the bandages on his side. “Che, stop moving!”
Ichigo moved away, Renji’s arm still over the back of his neck. “Okay!”
“These bandages they’re a special type...collaborative effort o’ Unohana-taichō, Urahara-san ‘n’ just recently Kurosuchi-taichō. They had developed them a long time ago but just recently have been able to make them available ta all the fourth...Ya know healing kidō is the healer and wounded’s reiatsu working together?”
“Yeah, I watched Hanatarō a couple times...He’s the only one that seems to notice my curiosity.”
“Not just the medical kind either,” Renji muttered since Ichigo had calmed down.
“Pervert!”
“Says the guy in bed naked with another guy...A severely wounded guy...” Renji watched Ichigo almost punch him...only playfully but he still gasped and snatched his hand back at the last second horrified at his actions.
“Yer reiatsu is always all over the place...even when it’s peaceful...well let’s call it 'mellow in yer case,” Renji only grinned in return to Ichigo’s dirty look for that comment. “The kidō-houtai are set to Yamada-san’s reiatsu and that is the normal state of his...peaceful I mean for anyone else.”
“Teme...I swear Renji--"
“See when yer pissed or...oh I dunno? On the rag? They just shut off...unless yer fuckin’ touchin’ them. They take in reiatsu with healin’ intent, formed into kidō on the outside. Usually there’s enough residual healin’ energy from the healer soaked up for my reiatsu to work with it to continue to heal me.”
Purposefully ignoring the teasing--because he was listening!--Ichigo calmed his reiatsu. “So it’s like you’re getting healing kidō while the healer isn’t here.”
“So as long as ya either keep yerself mellow or stop touchin’ the kidō-houtai,” Renji gave him a cheesy grin with teeth and the teen shook his head with a laugh. “I’ll be fine.”
“If you say so.”
“I do,” Renji watched Ichigo’s shoulders relax. “So story time is cuddle time, lay back down dumbass.”
With only his usual scowl Ichigo moved close again and stared at the bandages rather than touch them.
“Yer already plastered against some on my legs. I think that’s yer cock on my hip though,” He swiveled his eyes to catch Ichigo’s as the teen gave a nudge of his hips.
“You think?”
Renji closed his eyes because that was much better than mellow reiatsu. “Whenever I see it, it’s harder than that. Bigger too.”
“Fuck you.”
“Che,” Renji shook his head tsking his tongue in disapproval. “Not until after story time.”
They both went tense as they both realized how prickly the teen’s reiatsu was becoming. Ichigo calmed himself and finally lowered his head down to rest on Renji’s chest. He mumbled something his lips teasing unbandaged skin.
“What was that?” Renji prompted, he still had problems with Ichigo’s much more subdued attitude in sexual situations, they’d been together for three years already and the teen was still innocent and modest no matter how kinky Renji helped him be.
“You’re wounded I’m not fucking you,” Ichigo said a bit louder, still trying to muffle his statement against warm skin.
“I’m wounded yeah, but that just means I can’t fuck you Sugar,” Renji started to argue, but as Ichigo looked up, mouth flying open to protest he threw his hands up and preempted him, “This is stupid, I still have my story to tell.”
“Get on with it then!”
“So the sixth was out doin’ drills in the field arena and...well...I was leadin’ the division while Kuchiki-taichō walked around and made snooty comments on everyone’s form.”
“Jackass.”
“Slut.”
“Not you fucker, Byakuya,” Ichigo frowned as his fingers encountered bandages when his hand automatically moved to trace Renji’s stomach tattoos.
Renji noticed and cut to the end, “He actually told me I’d improved a lot.”
“He challenged you?”
The sheepish smile was answer enough, so Renji’s words came as no surprise. “I asked if he thought I could inspire the troops knockin’ him around...So I could see where I stood.”
“And?” Ichigo didn’t say it but Renji knew he wondered why Byakuya was still where he strived to get.
Renji didn’t know how to explain that he didn’t want that type of relationship with Ichigo. He’d much rather have his ass instead of trying to kick it. He wanted a different domination, and although position-wise he’d always been the uke there was no mistaking who the seme was.
“The division filled one side of the arena...heh...gave ‘em a good show. Taichō was nice enough to made sure the end was out of pryin’ eyes...noble bastard...” He murmured closing his eyes, only opening them when Byakuya didn’t appear and attempt to flay him again.
“Out of prying eyes?”
“Mountaintop about twenty shunpo away,” Renji recalled deciding to soothe himself with Ichigo, the touch of the younger man had always done the trick. His hand moved down to take the fingers still searching for a mark to trace and pulled Ichigo’s arm over him, his fingers coming back to trace from his elbow to his shoulder, back and forth. “The first thing I asked was if he had an opinion ‘bout what part of my new regimen might have helped the most...and he was like...’Mostly fuckin’ that Kurosaki kid--‘"
“Yeah like he’d say ‘fuck’...Shit did he really say that?” Ichigo’s head jerked up to catch crimson eyes in shock.
Renji scrunched up his face in thought, nodding as he tried to recall the exact words. “’If I had to hazard a guess Abarai-fukutaichō I would say your current dalliance with the Kurosaki boy.’” Renji effected Byakuya’s somber delivery and cultured tone, somehow eerie coming out of that mouth.
Made Ichigo wonder if the reverse were true. If maybe the noble did--in private of course--use words like “fuck.” Although he threw the word around carelessly, when trying to imagine Byakuya...
“I told him he was pullin’ my leg ‘n’ he made a smartass comment ‘bout bein’ too far away to reach my leg,” Renji rolled his eyes and wove his fingers in soft spiky orange hair to guide him back to resting his head on his chest.
“We fought ‘n’ I noticed a difference in his reiatsu too. It got even more obvious when we went shikai,” Renji shook his head, still unable to believe the events that he himself had lived through to get where he was at present. “I knew he’d stop the fight if I tried goin’ bankai so I...heh...I asked him which teenage boy he’d started fuckin’ since we’d fought last--"
“You didn’t! Fuckin’ dumbass!”
“Shaddup!” Renji laughed and groaned as muscles protested the vigorous mirth. “He’d just remade his sword when I closed in and I was close ‘nuff ta see his eyes go wide ‘n’ he goes, ‘I do not believe that is any of you damn business Abarai-fukutaichō.’ Heh.”
“He didn’t deny it!” Ichigo gasped, his arm tightening around Renji’s middle. “Did you find out who?”
“Fuck kid I’m getting’ ta that!” Renji distracted him by scratching nails into his scalp. “I kept guessin’ ‘til he went bankai, it was a great answer.”
“He went bankai first?”
“Yeah I’m sure I coulda at least fucked up his hair if he hadn’t snapped.”
“Snapped?” Ichigo pressed against Renji’s shiver-inducing fingers to show the disbelief on his face.
“It’s the Quincy.”
“No-fuckin’-way! Ishida Uryū?”
“I don’t know any other teenage Quincy,” He chuckled as he gave a small one-armed shrug. “Dunno why I’m surprised he’s just as arrogant a bastard as Taichō.”
For a moment Ichigo opened his mouth to object then he thought better of it and merely shook his head and lowered his cheek back into place, mind whirling. “Yeah I guess.”
“It was like I’d broken a dam. The last time we fought he hardly made a sound...”
“Yeah?” Ichigo resisted the delicious dig of Renji’s fingers in his hair, trying to focus on the bizarre information.
“He...He said...” Renji tried to soften the next words with another impression of his stoic captain. “’Abarai-fukutaichō I have to admit pleasure at having a second chance to show you Senbonzakura Kageyoshi...In the years interspersed between these foolish attempts of yours to attain the unattainable your markings have caught both my zanpakutō’s curiosity as well as mine.’”
“Your tattoos?” Ichigo murmured, eyes moving over the pattern of the bandages. It had seemed random, but now he noticed not a one of the black lines showed, even those adorning his forehead.
“Maybe if they were normal tattoos he coulda carved them out like he wanted,” Renji chuckled as Ichigo’s fingers splayed over his chest as if to longingly stroke the marks. “I mighta even got some new ones, I did way better’n last time.”
“I fuckin’ disagree!”
“Ya didn’t see me after I fought him the first time...at least Zabimaru’s still in one piece this time...heh, he was really focused on cuttin’ me up.”
“Renji he’s your fuckin’ captain!”
“Fer what I said to goad him inta bankai...” Renji saw the anger filling his lover’s face (aimed at him!) and hesitated finishing outloud. I deserved it! Instead he tried, “If he’d said it ‘bout you, I woulda killed him.”
“Dumbass.”
“Hey! It ain’t like he was his usual stoic self the whole fight!” Renji defended himself, forgetting the need to calm the teen. “I asked him if I should really go all out...I didn’t wanna ruin the Quincy’s fun...and he actually smiled...’n’ it was...well--fuck--lets just say I woulda preferred normal cold-as-fuckin’-ice Taichō.
“After he sent his bankai ta carve the marks off--all the marks--” Renji knew Ichigo would look up and he waited to meet his eyes. “Said, ‘that sounds like quite a superb idea as punishment for your impertinence...if the only result in besting you is only more insubordination like this.’”
“W-what?” Ichigo’s eyes were confused but still Renji could tell he understood.
“It takes the forth a while ta completely heal spine injuries...I realize he...I realized I’d found his button...ya know the one I hit from just talkin’ ta you?” Renji tried to joke, but the Ichigo of before was back, the bone-clenching sensation along the kidō-houtai told him that.
“Hanatarō said it was superficial but...”
“I can move my legs but it fuckin’ hurts, I’m tougher than he thinks ‘n’...Um, turns out yer not the only one who visits Seireitei between invasions.”
“Ishida’s here?”
“Probably at the Kuchiki palace fuckin’--"
“On no! No! No! No! Shut-the-fuck-up right there!” Ichigo pulled back, sitting up to smash the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Fuck now it’s stuck in there.”
“Aw, c’mon!” Renji laughed as the teen kept thumping his forehead as if to knock something out of his brain. “That skinny piece of noble ass prolly saved me from missin’ out on sex fer months.”
An exasperated groan left Ichigo and he muttered, “Bleach, I need fuckin’ bleach...I don’t want those kinds of mental pictures--"
“Aw, Ichigo!” Renji admonished, holding a hand out to him until he moved back to cuddle against him. “Ya can picture ‘em?” He asked as soon as Ichigo relaxed. “Cuz I know both of ‘em ‘n’...’n’ how the hell...the Quincy has to be uke.”
“I’m not talking about this,” Ichigo rubbed his cheek along the bandage beneath it, knowing the lines he loved to trace were hidden there. “And I don’t think Ishida could relax enough to be fucked.”
“Oi, what happened to not talkin’ about it?”
“Whatever.”
“Quincy kinda seems like me, the aggressive uke type.”
“Oh, stop now!”
“Oh, fuck that gives me an idea...”
Ichigo shifted to look up at the expression on the older man’s face. “I don’t wanna know...I’m takin’ a nap...You ‘n’ yer dumbass macho fights.”
“Ichigo ya know he didn’t tell ya I was hurt cuz he felt guilty,” Renji murmured into the silence. “He let yer dumbass use his senkaimon unauthorized because now I get to see what I can’t have.”
“Baka!” Ichigo started to object but it hit him suddenly that just because the taichō was stoic and aloof didn’t mean he had no emotions underneath. He had thought it unusual Byakuya notifying him of Renji’s injuries, Rukia had even been at the senkaimon as he came flash stepping through it. He hadn’t even given her a chance to talk to him. Considering his state of mind hearing the details so soon might have led to a much more hellacious fight within the Seireitei.
“Ichigo?”
Shaking his head Ichigo focused on Renji. “I know what you’re thinking and I still think you’re too injured.”
“If ya fuck me I won’t have ta do any work,” Renji whined and Ichigo shot him an incredulous look.
“You heard Hanatarō I could still reopen wounds,” Ichigo knew they were less than gentle with each other, but neither of them had tried fooling around while one of them was this wounded except...
“What are you thinkin’ about..?” Renji trailed off into silence and Ichigo knew he should have felt uneasy as he saw what he could only call a knowing and lecherous light enter his lover’s eyes. He was more than a little embarrassed when the sight only aroused him.
“I think you stole my line this time,” Ichigo grumbled but he yelped in surprise as rough fingers closed over his half-hard member.
“Mm, I can guess,” Renji’s voice lowered into a purr, a deceptive voice that lulled Ichigo’s usual anxiety usually by distracting him with arousal. “Fuckin’ me?”
“Che, when don’t I?” Ichigo tried to tease back and Renji countered with a stroke of his hand.
“Yer the one who keeps tellin’ me otherwise.”
“Just because I said I wasn’t going to, doesn’t mean I don’t want to or don’t think about it dumbass,” Ichigo lowered his forehead to press it against Renji’s shoulder, as pleasure rippled through him.
“Ain’t fair Baby...Ya wanna fuck me, I wanna fuck you...”
“You wanna fuck me?”
Renji had to bite his lip as the words trembled out of the teen, but his cock gave an interested twitch in his hand. “I’d fuckin’ love to you know that.”
Ichigo could count on his hands the number of times he’d actually played uke. He’d been seventeen when they’d gotten together, very unsure about the fact that he’d found himself attracted to his friend, his male friend. Renji had never argued with Ichigo when he trusted the older shinigami enough to admit his inexperience, and seek assistance in being the seme.
Vivid scenarios were playing through the red head as he gave the teen time to think over the idea. He’d only been with a couple of men, mostly as seme but he’d been taught by his senpai just how fun uke could be. He’d been alive a long time, knew he was still dealing with a kid. Even though he was really an adult, the experience gap still gave Renji an almost clairvoyant sense for the boy’s actions and the motives for them. Renji reminded himself how long he’d held out against his senpai before being pleasantly surprised.
And the substitute wasn’t totally against penetration; loved to come with his cock down Renji’s throat and the redhead’s merciless fingers rubbing at his prostate. He wouldn’t admit to it but he always tried to take full advantage of those few moments with fingers and tongue. He’d already gotten a considerable girth of fingers, but the line was drawn there.
Ichigo had hang-ups about being uke, mostly a teenage male ego. Even if nobody but Renji knew of their roles, he knew it mostly had to do with a certain inner hollow with a big fucking mouth he couldn’t shut.
“Hypothetically...”
Fuck yes! Renji kept his face calm, wolfish grin firmly curled on his lips. “Huh?”
“If...If I really wanted to get back at Byakuya for trying to neuter you...but didn’t wanna hurt you...”
Deciding his lover only needed a little help Renji gave a gentle squeeze and pump of his hand. “’Member the last time you were laid up at Urahara’s...”
Thrown by the topic--mostly the other things said topic brought up--and the stimulation the teen couldn’t contain a low moan. “Why the fuck would you bring that up--ngh--nnow?”
“I’m only bringin’ up the mind-blowin’ sex part afterwards,” Renji actually looked genuinely innocent, which only made Ichigo suspicious. Most of the time Renji had some ulterior motive and if it wasn’t obvious it was sex related.
Surprise there.
Ichigo didn’t argue since the part he referred to had indeed been “mind-blowing” and one of the times the substitute shinigami counted himself an uke. Even as he pictured their roles reversed, however, Ichigo still found himself hesitant. “I remember.”
“Do ya now?” Renji rolled crimson eyes. “How about ya give me details so I know we’re on the same page?”
Making sure he was watching, Ichigo rolled his eyes right back. “I fucked you,” Ichigo’s eyebrows pulled down in their usual scowl. “It was the only time we did it at the shouten.”
“Liar, we fucked more than we fought in the trainin’ room.”
“Training Room Renji, I noticed you didn’t mention a shouten--"
“Smartass,” Renji muttered, taking retribution out on his lover’s straining erection. “That memorable was it?”
“You know it was,” Mostly because he had felt well and truly topped that night.
“’n’ why is that?”
It was one of their dumbest arguments--and shit did they have their share of those!--when Renji tried to rid Ichigo of his modesty. Well, not so much his modesty, because the redhead loved making him blush whether the dirty words came from Renji or Ichigo’s lips.
“Why don’t you tell me why you brought it up in the first place?” Ichigo countered.
“Cuz you were fucked up like I am now ‘n’ I fucked ya ‘til ya screamed my name,” Renji returned bluntly, skin the same unembarrassed shade. “’n’ I didn’t make you beg.” For a moment Renji felt a bit of trepidation as a rare wicked grin curled the teen’s lips. “Hm,” Renji paused a moment to rub over Ichigo’s slick head diving a gasping moan from the shuddering teen. “Wonder why it makes ya so nervous?”
“That’s--ngh...That’s not nervous...” Ichigo’s hips rolled forward into his lover’s hand.
“’n’ I’m sure the fact that I’ve got my hot fingers around yer cock helps considerably,” Renji guessed. “I know you’ll like it...Why the hell else would I let ya pound me into the bed so often?”
Unfortunately Ichigo heard every word, and in a voice Renji knew rubbed him just like his hand currently was. “R-Renji, I...”
“What?” Renji moved his fingers down to cup Ichigo’s balls. “’Renji I’d love it if you’d fuck me?’”
Ichigo rolled his eyes as the sultry question did as intended to his body. His eyelids fluttered as Renji put a tingle of his reiatsu into his stroking hand. “Fuckin’ cheater!”
“C’mon Ichi I won’t move a damn muscle,” Renji cooed and Ichigo’s answer was a husky laugh that only made his current fundoshi situation tighter.
Ichigo caught his bottom lip between his teeth as Renji’s reiatsu slid like an independent digit along the tight skin of his perineum. “Such a--ngh--sweet talker...ah, fuck Renji!”
“I’d give ya some sweet talk but I don’t want ya comin’ ‘til I do,” he purred as he teased his reiatsu further making Ichigo release a broken moan.
“Got lube around here somewhere?” Ichigo whispered, his anxiety fading at the smile that came to his lover’s face. When his reiatsu stopped teasing and Renji’s fingers stilled merely holding his member (as if he would run) disappointment flared. He watched the redhead stretch his unoccupied hand toward the foot of the futon to the supplies Hanatarō had left behind to retrieve a small clay jar.
“Have I told ya how much I love ya?” Renji asked as he set the jar on his bandaged chest a few inches from Ichigo’s nose.
“Just the last time you convinced me to do something perverted.”
“If ya want perverted...” Renji’s teeth peeked out as a familiar grin, curled his lips making Ichigo’s arousal twitch, which of course only stretched the grin wider.
“Teme...” Ichigo hid his face against the bandages. “Go slow.”
“Isn’t that how ya like it Ichi?” Renji’s fingers squeezed gently. “Now are ya gonna make me strain my healin’ wounds or let me watch ya prep yerself?”
“Bastard...” Ichigo pressed his teeth to bare skin; the parts of his face that were visible were bright red.
“Fuck...” Renji chuckled softly letting his reiatsu return to teasing lower to his puckered entrance. “Do ya really think I’d let ya do that part?” He took on a thoughtful look and murmured, “That would be fuckin’ hot though.”
“I still fuckin’ hate you,” Ichigo grumbled, even as the wrinkles of his scowl changed into something like a pleasured wince at the pressure of reiatsu against the tight ring of muscle. “Ngh! Fuck...” Broke down even further into something unintelligible and sexy enough to make his lover echo with a moan of his own.
“After three years ya ain’t started likin’ me even a little?” He pressed his finger of reiatsu in, feeling just how tight and tense the muscles were. There was almost an instant change the moment Renji’s fingers began to stroke his neglected cock.
“You know I fuckin’ love you asshole,” Ichigo growled, his hips moving to thrust into Renji’s fist. “More.”
Renji didn’t comment aloud this time even if the brusque request turned him on even more, he just focused on increasing the girth of his reiatsu, pushing further in and making sure to buzz over his prostate. They both cursed as Ichigo’s body trembled around his reiatsu, around him and suddenly his hips started to buck both forwards and back.
“You’re gonna make me come--fuckin’ stop!” Ichigo hissed, his voice something wanton and begging the opposite of his spoken words. “Let...go...Renji...”
The moment Renji let go of his penis the teen was kicking the blankets the rest of the way off, following them until he was crouched at the foot of the futon. Renji had to pause in his stretching, lifting his head to watch Ichigo fumble with a scowl at his fundoshi before managing to free his aching hard-on.
“I’ve gotta job ta do ya little punk, stay off my cock,” Renji barked as Ichigo purposefully ran the back of his fingers along the bandage on his lover’s innermost thigh, the spiritual energy making the larger man shiver. “You know I can’t focus on my reiatsu when ya...fuckin’ asshole!”
Ichigo didn’t bother to reply only kept Renji’s gaze as he slowly ran his tongue along the underside of his cock from base to tip. He felt Renji’s reiatsu withdraw, only to rub over his entrance. “You healed enough for me to turn around then?”
“Get the fuck over here,” Was his only answer, knocking the jar of salve off his bandaged chest to roll off the futon as he patted his chest invitingly. Renji was silently thanking any deity listening responsible for the creation of such a creature. Even though the suggestion had him biting his lip it was the red tinting the teen’s cheeks that heated him more.
As Ichigo moved back onto the futon he grabbed the other pillow and used it to elevate Renji’s upper body. “You hurt yourself and I’m gonna go jerk off in the bathroom.”
“Yer such a bitch!”
“Uh-huh tell me that after I screw your brains out,” Ichigo turned away in time to hide the blush and Renji couldn’t be too mad since he got a few moments to ogle his ass, and then it was in his face. He could only laugh softly as his fingers caressed a shiver out of the boy, starting at his knees and traveling inward and upward.
“Still a little high Baby,” Renji leaned in and pressed his tongue in at the base of his sac and slowly teased back. His abdomen muscles were working again so he didn’t hesitate to lift himself up so he could tease his tongue higher, pleased to feel the tight muscle twitch as Ichigo moaned and moved closer.
Renji wasted no time taking full advantage with his tongue. It was a smart move since he couldn’t see what Ichigo was up to down there and the delicious wetness of his lover’s wicked tongue pushing past his entrance made a moan shiver out hot and unbearably close over his cock.
“Fuck yes Renji!” Panted out over the head as he quickly wrapped his lips around him. His body shifted as the teen slid his mouth further down Renji’s length, and the redhead moved his fingers firmly to guide Ichigo’s hips back.
Ichigo lowered his body to bit more so he wouldn’t have to move away from that torturous tongue. He moaned as his cock slipped over bandage and skin alike the friction almost painful.
The tongue left him as Renji suddenly whimpered and gave a whine. “Fuck that shit’s crazy!”
“What?” Ichigo’s lips slipped off with a pop, wet and fucking hot.
“Don’t stop! Suck!” Renji growled his saliva-lubed finger very suddenly replacing his missing tongue, making Ichigo mewl around the older man’s cock. “Your reiatsu is like hot sex...on the kidō-houtai.”
Tempted to lower his body further to touch as much of the bandages as possible, Ichigo reminded himself that his lover was wounded. Instead he tried to stay focused on tasting him, his attention straying to the digit pressing in all the way.
Renji fumbled for the maltreated jar lying on its side just off the edge of the futon. Once he had managed to open it he coated his unoccupied fingers; stretching was nice, but Fourth’s lube would only make it better for everyone.
They boy didn’t even have a chance to whine at the loss of penetration before two cool slicker fingers replaced the one. Whatever noise he planned to make vibrated along Renji’s length only making him reciprocate with a curl of his fingers into the teen’s prostate, only drawing the noise out longer on his cock.
“Fuck, like that?” Renji crooned in that voice, pure sex, deep and purring. “Huh Ichi-baby?”
Renji rather liked the answer that he received in a shift of slim hips, seeking a repeat of the last thrust. “Don’t forget ta move those sexy lips over my cock.”
Ichigo surprised him as he practically swallowed his cock. Renji made up for the sudden buck of his hips, burying himself deep into Ichigo’s throat, by thrusting just as deep into his ass.
“Oh fuck yes!” Renji moaned as Ichigo relaxed enough to resist gagging, and taking his lover’s fingers off. “So fuckin’ good baby!”
Before he could adjust his grip the mouth--the throat fuck!--slipped away leaving his cock, the ass and press of his legs on either side of his bandaged torso suddenly gone too. Renji cursed and reached after the departing heat both with hands and reiatsu.
“I said don’t fuckin’ move!” Ichigo panted; face red, lips just as dark and so fucking sexy. “Or I’m outta here.”
“Gomennasai...Don’t leave please.”
Ichigo’s scowl softened at the plea, “Then don’t move.” He reached over the futon in an irresistible stretch of muscles over Renji.
Renji buried fingers in short orange hair to pull him into a not-too-painful collision of lips and chests.
“Careful!” Ichigo cursed and pulled off the redhead with his original objective--the lube--in his hand. “Dumbass.”
“I wasn’t done yet,” Renji frowned, eyes slamming shut as his lover ignored him and used a few strokes of his hand to spread the salve over his aching cock. “I don’t wanna hurt ya gimmie another minute.”
“How about you just lay there, shut-the-fuck-up and let me fuck you?”
“I’m fuckin’ you.”
Brown eyes rolled and Ichigo shook his head before straddling the big shinigami again, this time facing forward. “Shaddup!”
Easily shutting up, Renji’s hips wiggled enjoying the friction where his length was sandwiched between his own lower abdomen and Ichigo’s body. The move earned him a scowl, but unfortunately for the boy the intent of his reiatsu was very obvious where his body brushed the kidō-houtai, telling Renji just how hot his lover’s desire was. How much he liked it.
“Gomen,” Renji tried to pout but Ichigo’s fingers closed around him a moment before he moved up off his knees to lean back, his other hand braced in the futon between his lover’s legs behind him. “Fuck Ichi--"
It wasn’t very easy to focus on the expression that contorted the older shinigami’s face rather than how his blunt tip stretched more than a finger, tongue and reiatsu ever had; and it was only pressing at that first ring of muscle...
The salve did its job only too well and Ichigo’s body went still, muscles tense as the head easily slipped inside him the moment he relaxed enough, quicker than either had anticipated. As his body coiled Renji’s words cut off with a ragged curse, fingers suddenly digging into the teen’s thighs with bruising strength as hot muscles squeezed and seemed to urge him deeper instead of the opposite.
Deep crimson eyes met brown over Ichigo’s gently bowed torso and the teen knew exactly how the redhead felt at that moment, wanting to be deeper but unwilling to move before muscles adjusted. Although Ichigo had no delusions about being Renji’s first he knew there hadn’t been any temptation like this the three years they’d been together.
“Gotta go slow,” Ichigo hissed, even if the sensation was more odd than painful, he kept still until he adjusted.
“Why ya tellin’ me for?” Renji hissed back, purposefully moving his hands up the tops of Ichigo’s thighs. “Yer the seme ‘member?”
“Says the man with his cock in my ass.”
“Hardly,” Renji teased, trying his best to continue to resist the clenching heat on the head of his cock. “And if ya don’t relax we won’t even be able ta go slow.”
Renji could feel the tremble in Ichigo’s leg muscles and knew he couldn’t hover for long. He tried focusing on his reiatsu if only to rub along the underside of the teen’s neglected cock; flip the pain/pleasure switch so those muscles relaxed a little around him. Wishing he could participate even a molecule more he was pleased to hear a rough curse and his name from his lover at the warm rub of his reiatsu.
“C’mon Ichigo...” Renji encouraged as fingers curling, if he changed position, maybe braced his hands on his bandaged chest he’d be able to reach...His fingers made a different type of tremble as they caressed inward. Just a little closer and he could wrap his long fingers around him and... “Fuck...” Whined out of the larger man as Ichigo sunk down to suck in half his length all at once, blowing the concentration on his reiatsu. “Whatthefuck happened ta slow!”
Ichigo wasn’t listening; his head lolled back on his shoulders as he moaned a litany of curses in what could only be described a pleading tone. It only made the urge to buck his hips maddening but Renji knew he couldn’t move until his seme was ready.
“Fuck baby so tight,” Renji hissed fingernails grazing the tender skin of inner thigh. “So good,” He growled sliding a hand up to cup his lover’s balls partly because he could now and partly so they’d stop impeding the sexiest thing he’d seen next to watching Ichigo slide deep into him.
The slide of the salve made it less painful than Ichigo’d imagined, which was really hard not to when he thought about it (which was way more than Ichigo was comfortable admitting) Renji was just big all over, his cock no exception.
“C’mon baby move,” Renji groaned fingers squeezing and playing to distract himself or he’d be doing the fucking, ripped stitches and a disapproving Hanatarō be damned. “So fuckin’ hot...” Just a curl of his hips and he could have the teen seeing stars.
Ichigo’s body shifted until he was leaning forward, hands braced on the largest patch of unbandaged skin he could find on Renji’s torso but still his fingers and reiatsu found the edges of the kidō-houtai. He noticed the wounded shinigami’s reaction to the extra stimuli and slid his hands forward a bit, fingers spread across the bandages a bit more. The long low moan was hazily shaped into Ichigo’s various pet names and vividly descriptive strings of curses that sounded like the most depraved of threats that nonetheless made the teen’s body burn with more than just mortification.
Ichigo gave him points for not fucking him silly, wounded or not. It showed just how much more experienced Renji was that he could keep himself in check (Ichigo tried his best not to count how often he’d lost it just staring at that tight ass).
A soft groan slipped out as Ichigo told himself not to think about fucking Renji...How fucking odd was that?
Such a fuckin’ baka, King.
You shut-the-fuck-up! Ichigo had expected his hollow to interrupt way sooner, thanks to the position change.
Fuckin’ stupid King. Yer still in the goddamn saddle, never mind the cock splittin’ ya in two.
Renji’s voice barked out, “Ohfuckyes!” as one loud word as Ichigo lowered to completely encase his length.
With his hands pressing into the bandaged chest below him, Ichigo leaned over until he could murmur, “Gimme a minute,” against Renji’s lips.
Tell him how fuckin’ nice his cock feels.
“Ya okay baby?” Renji asked as he noticed the familiar glaze of a certain mental distraction. A blush suddenly grew bright on the teen’s face and he quickly tried to hide his face by burying it in his red hair, his cheek flushed hot where it pressed to Renji’s.
Shut up! Don’t say shit like that! “My hollow’s more of a pervert than you,” Ichigo whimpered as the monster’s cackle rattled around in his head, this was definitely not how he’d thought his hollow would taunt him.
Quit with the fuckin’ bitchin’ I know just how much ya like that fat cock in yer ass King.
“Che, of course he’s yer hollow,” Renji growled with a small duck of his head his teeth caught the soft skin of Ichigo’s neck. Although the press of his teeth made Ichigo moan and arch his head out of the way, the move (as intended) grabbed the hollow’s attention--drove the bastard crazy.
Ichigo moved his neck out of his lover’s bite with a shiver as his hollow howled and gave the equivalent of a buck against the saddle.
“Let him know if he don’t go away I’m gonna send Zabimaru in there to fuck him up,” A low rumbling chuckle rolled out over Ichigo’s lips as Renji’s gaze seemed to pierce through to the lascivious hollow within. “And Saru doesn’t play uke.”
Fuckin’ bring it monkey.
“I don’t think he believes you,” Ichigo whispered but there was suddenly a startling lack of hollow straining against his control.
“Baby,” Renji groaned as he was interrupted from whatever he’d been about to whine by Ichigo’s lips.
“It worked,” Ichigo hissed as he nipped at his lover’s parted lips, unintentionally muffling the stream of pleading words the redhead managed. “Renji?”
“Move...” Renji gave a gentle roll of his hips, barely moving, just enough to remind a certain someone of his current position. “Please, baby...” A feral growl. “Ple-ease.”
Ichigo decided to let Renji get away with the tiny movement, especially when he got a good look at the intensity in his lover’s pupil-blown eyes as he moved back, sitting up to perch over the bandaged shinigami. “You wanna split me in two don’t you?” Where the question came from Ichigo had only one idea--fuckin’ hollow!--but there was no mistaking its effect on Renji and the redhead’s answer even before it growled out.
“Fuck yeah! Fuck yeah baby!” Renji panted, fingers gripping again at the teen’s thighs as he pleaded, “Baby we gotta do this again.”
“I dunno,” Ichigo teased as he caught his own bottom lip in his teeth as he lifted himself off his lover’s cock, both of them moaning together.
“Oh-fuck-please Ichigo,” Renji yelped thankful for the half-hard cock now within his reach. He wasted no time in stroking it back into full hardness.
As his body moved slowly up and down his head fell back as he whimpered and moaned, “Fuck Renji.”
“Hoh,” Panted out of the redhead a familiar wolfish grin curling his lips as he watched his cock disappear inside the teen. “If ya like this--mmmyeah...Yer gonna fuckin’ love when I do the fuckin’.”
“Oh yeah?” Ichigo moaned as he moved up to the very tip before easing back down his slow tempo making the redhead want to scream. Without thinking he curled his hips, changing the angle just a bit and diving the rest of the way inside and firmly against Ichigo’s prostate.
At the thrust his cock practically jumped in Renji’s hand as the boy cried out, head thrown back. A knowing chuckle left the older man’s lips as he caught the precum dribbling down over his knuckles and used it to ease the slide of a few strokes.
“Faster baby...C’mon--fuck!” Renji gasped as Ichigo’s hands slid over his bandaged stomach, bracing himself to do exactly what his lover and his own body urged. As he moved up and back down even faster Renji made sure his cock rubbed along that same spot every other bounce of the boy’s ass. He could see the kid wanted to say something, maybe argue about the inconsequential movement of the injured shinigami’s hips, but Renji made sure he was incapable of coherent speech.
“So nice baby,” Renji grunted his fingers squeezing as his fist stroked upwards, darting a thumb over the head causing a hitch in the quick rhythm Ichigo had started to piston out. “I forgot--mmfuck!--forgot how fuckin’ good this feels...shit!”
“Renji--” Barked out as he managed a particularly hard thrust and the fukutaichō could hear the wanton lusty pleasure mixed in with a trace of steely reproach. Yes he’d bent his legs and twisted his toes into the futon so he could used his legs to push against the bed that time, but any twinge of pain had only served as another stab of hot pleasure. He failed to hear the warning in the jumbled mix but then there was a desperate cry of, “Soo close--fuck Renji!”
“Yes!” Renji felt Ichigo’s rhythm come to a halt as the teen’s body bowed, sweat-slick skin making the hard planes of his body shine as he trembled. “Come for me,” His hand stroked and squeezed as the first spasm of the teen’s body wracked him, clenching his muscles like a vice around his lover’s length. “Fuck yes, Ichigo...” Renji curled his feet in the blankets and took up the rhythm, thrusting up into the body posed so beautifully above him, drawing out the shuddering orgasm until Renji’s name spilled out in a demanding scream; for the end, for more, neither knew.
Renji ignored the protest that began in his legs and stomach muscles as he bucked up into Ichigo’s shaking form, his orgasm ripping away any other sensation but the white hot pleasure that very suddenly fired through his body. As he came he didn’t notice the hands impeding his hips’ motion, not when Ichigo quickly remembered the rhythm once his brain began functioning again and rode him until he whimpered his seme’s name.
The redhead struggled to open his eyes as he left his lover’s body, Ichigo groaning in satisfaction as he purposefully crashed down onto the futon, just shy of crushing the man underneath him. His arm draped over Renji’s chest Ichigo tried to turn his head enough to peer over at the injured man to make sure he was all right. “Renji?”
“Hmmyeah baby?” Crooned out in a husky voice and Ichigo couldn’t help but grin, since he wasn’t looking at the moment.
“You okay?”
“Fuck yeah.”
A fleeting thought about how uncomfortable he’d be once everything dried entered Ichigo’s post-coital-mushy brain, along with the idea that he should be angrier with Renji for some reason. What reason he wasn’t sure, he just knew that his legs were still trembling, and he was sure the asshole would laugh if he crawled to the bathroom.
“Ichigo?” Renji struggled to lift the lead his eyelids had become, head turning to see through the cage of eyelashes at the man next to him. All that come would be nasty in the morning...A light snore answered him and Renji chuckled softly to himself as he realized he’d knocked the kid out. “Definitely gotta do this again...Mmmm...” He sighed contentedly to himself as his eyes started to slide closed.
Only decades of training had his eyelids fighting back open as a flicker of movement in the corner of the room caught his eyes. He zeroed in on the small black shape of what looked like a hell butterfly resting gracefully on the edge of the inside of his window sill. “Ouka?” He murmured his voice rumbling in his chest as he squinted at the insect. “Hey Ichigo?” He gave a soft nudge to the teen but only received a grunt in reply and a louder snore.
No telling how long the damn things been sitting there recording the sounds...in this room... “Ichigo!” He nudged a little harder and winced as the arm draped over his chest elbowed back before Ichigo muttered ‘baka’ before snoring again. “Shit...” He glanced down at the swaths of bandages on his body, and shook his head. No sense ruining a good orgasm panicking about a trapped hell butterfly.
Turning his head he was able to slide a bit closer on the pillow, lips pressed to the sweaty forehead of the lightweight laying passed out next to him.

#
“Abarai-fukutaichō?” Hanatarō called out as the front door to Renji’s quarters opened unlocked. He shuffled nervously in, his fingers clutched around the strap of his medical kit. “Kurosaki-san?” When the healer received no answer he slid the door closed behind him and tiptoed to the bedroom door, caution and more than a little trepidation made the small shinigami hover just outside the closed shoji.
Straining his shinigami hearing it seemed only a pair of light snores pierced the silence of the next room. Even from behind the shoji Ichigo’s reiatsu was still obvious, even at rest.
Delicate fingers slipped the shoji door open enough o offer a two-inch slice of the room. The futon look like the two had staged a wrestling match in it, and anything close-by had suffered similarly. With an irritated hiss Hanatarō slid the door open enough to slip through, tendrils of his gentle reiatsu fighting its way through the resting spiritual pressure of both men. The presence of the fukutaichō’s was actually a good sign, since the kidō-houtai still seemed to be in place.
A bit of his initial irritation melted when he noticed Renji looked as if he hadn’t moved an inch from the spot he’d been left in. Hanatarō’s dark eyes moved over the rumpled bedcovers barely doing their job hiding the sprawled limbs of the substitute shinigami. Hanatarō gave silent thanks that the important parts were taken care of.
Firmly recalling the training he’d received from the unflappable Unohana-taichō Hanatarō took quick visual stock of the emergency supplies he’d left in case Ichigo had the need and inclination. They were still relatively tidy where he’d left them at the head of the futon all but the jar of healing salve...
With a blush Hanatarō busied himself with airing out the musty sex-scented room, surprised to find a hell butterfly perched on the inside of the window sill. “Good Morning Butterfly-san,” Hanatarō whispered wondering if the insect were waiting to leave.
As soon as the window opened the butterfly took off, answering the healer’s question quite effectively.
- 1
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