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Happy Ending	By : Ardespuffy Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Hitsugaya/Ichigo Views: 2079 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Happy Ending
- 2-Teaser
- 3-One
- 4-Two
- 5-Three
- 6-Four
- 7-Five
- 8-Six
- 9-Seven
- 10-Eight
- 11-Nine
- 12-First
- 13-Second
- 14-Third
- 15-Fourth
- 16-Fifth
- 17-Sixth
- 18-Seventh
- 19-Eighth
- 20-Ninth
- 21-Tenth
- 22-Eleventh
- 23-Twelfth
- 9
- 10
- 11
…Then live the rest of our life,

But not together…

"Ya like it?" Ichigo asks around a mouthful of Toshiro.
The white-haired youth's effort to speak is quite endearing, really. "W-What?"
Blowing an apologetic kiss on the moist tip of his lover's arousal, Ichigo pulls back to look up expectantly. "This place. How dad and I redecorated it."
"Nh. Yeah. Took a lot of w-work though." Toshiro's voice cracks toward the end as a hot mouth envelopes him again.
For brief moments, before Ichigo once more withdraws. "Yer right. And I'm still working on it."
The sly smirk arching the redhead's lips leaves little doubting what he's getting at. Very much aware of his vulnerable position – pinned against a pillar – the soccer captain barely groans, fighting back any attempt at resistance for the sake of overdue orgasm. Ichigo can tell all that's crossing his mate's mind as he nibs ever so gently at the side of his pleading manhood. They've been going at it for a whole hour now, and he's really starting to wondering how long can a healthy young man hold off his climax before his balls all but explode. Deciding that's not a sight he ever wants to behold – he's got too much use for Toshiro's balls to lose them like this – Ichigo swallows around the thick length stretching his cheeks until he's practically gagging on the head. The cry of pure ecstasy that warrants though is worth all the trouble.
Toshiro's fingers are pulling fiercely at orange locks soon after as the boy finally loses it and starts fucking his teasing lover's mouth in vicious thrusts. Ichigo has to keep himself from grazing his teeth against the hypersensitive skin, for at the pace they're going now that would so not be pleasant. The hand cupping Toshiro's sac can feel it tightening spasmodically mere moments before the first sprouts of hot semen fill Ichigo's mouth and run down his throat, both punishing and nourishing.
Few drops of pearly liquid are dripping from the med student's chin as he lifts his head to send his lover a defiant smirk. He fails to make eye contact, though, for Toshiro's gaze is obstinately fixed on the nearby wall – probably out of sheepishness, Ichigo reckons, and gives the strange occurrence no more thought.

"So. Whatcha gettin' midget for tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow?"
"Ya bloody oblivious berry, tomorrow's your first Valentine's together as a couple!"
Ichigo casts Renji a genuinely perplexed look. "Toshiro and I are not a couple at all. I thought we'd set this straight with you guys?"
"It's not us you should set things straight with, y'know."
"… what's this supposed to mean?"
Renji has a funny face on, namely a serious one – it just suits him so oddly. "Nothin'. But you might want to… well, be a li'l more careful around the boy, mate. He's obviously got it bad for you, so jus', play fair, 'kay?"
Ichigo feels like the most absurd of all things absurd is going on right before his eyes. "You are taking Toshiro's defences? You, who're always teasing him and giving him hell because of his height, or – "
"Well, I don't fuck with him. Not his brain nor god forbid his scrawny ass."
Several different answers cross Ichigo's mind ("so not scrawny" and "haven't actually fucked yet" being his tops), but the youth bites them all back opting for seriousness. "What do you want me to do? 's not like you switch love on and off."
"You don't. That's exactly why I'm asking you to handle this carefully. Midget already been through a lot."
"Needn't tell me." The carrot-top snaps, unable to help feeling irritated at the patronizing tone. Hell, who knows Toshiro better than him? Who cares for him more than Ichigo does? "And we've got no use for that Valentine's bullshit anyhow. But I'll let you know I might just dress up as Cupid for a private hardcore show in our room while you'll be at the headquarters tomorrow."
"… that was much more than I needed to know."

Water keeps streaming along the round curve of Toshiro's buttocks, landing in lukewarm sprays on top of Ichigo's head – which is indeed happily nestled between the smaller boy's ass cheeks at the moment. The redhead's rough tongue is flickering against the wet puckered hole and plunging inside the tight channel, trying to keep up with the unsteady rhythm of Toshiro's wanking.
Whose idea was it to do this in the gym public stalls again?
Mine, right. Ichigo sneers to himself, which results in a none too pleasure scraping of his teeth against the thin layer of skin between Toshiro's twitching hole and his scrotum, a tiny spot that usually has the snowy head wriggling like mad.
"Mind your…"
"Sorry."
Here's when Ichigo decides he's done with foreplay and wraps his moist lips around Toshiro's balls, first, then his awaiting opening. He takes in as deep a breath as he can manage and delves his tongue in a couple of times, before pulling out and lavishing the exterior with eager lapping. When he finally takes on suckling the already throbbing hole, his hands digging in the easily bruised skin of Toshiro's milky thighs, the captain gives a broken sob and relieves himself all over the soaked tiled wall.
Ichigo is quick to spin his lover around, keeping him in place with one hand lest he lose his balance. The med student takes his sweet time licking away all the remnants of creamy fluid water hasn't washed off yet, before rising on slightly wobbly legs to a reasonable kiss-height. And kiss he does, pressing Toshiro maybe a bit viciously against the soiled wall of the cubicle. The footballer lets him in willingly, if lazily, and Ichigo takes full advantage of the beautifully intimate position – standing stark naked in the shower together, of all places, is not a luxury they can easily afford – to rub his already spent manhood against his partner's lower belly, more out of the sheer need for proximity than any lustful intention.
Toshiro seems to misinterpret this, though. He pulls back half-heartedly before glancing up at the redhead with glassy eyes. "You want me to…?"
An agile hand wraps itself around Ichigo's semi-hard length, causing the boy to gasp loudly. A short hesitation before he shakes his head, lips twitching in a soft smile. "Nah. It's okay. Let's jus' stay like this."
They stand still, sated and contented, melding together for a while longer under the tepid water spray.

"Oi, Izuru. You doing well?"
"Good morning, Kurosaki-kun. I'm just fine, thanks for asking. You look positive radiant!"
"Yeah. 's a good period all in all."
"I take it you've finally discussed the matter of your feelings with Hitsugaya-kun, then."
Ichigo's brow knits in a taut scowl. "My – what?"
"I'm sorry! Was that supposed to stay a secret? I – I swear I won't tell a soul, it's just – Renji told me, and I…"
"Calm down, it's okay. I just don't get what you're talking about."
"You mean you haven't, you know, told Toshiro how you feel?"
Hold on. "And how would I feel – " Ichigo trails off abruptly. What's the point in arguing over something like this? The redhead pulls on a calmer façade. "Nevermind. I'll just make sure Abarai quits blabbing out my personal affairs to the winds. No offence, mate."
"None taken. Just, Ichigo…"
"Huh?"
"There's something Gi – I mean, Ichimaru used to say to me back when we – well, when we first got together." The blonde inhales sharply before blurting out all in one go. "Snakes shall swallow their preys whole."
"Huh? What's that, a riddle?"
"It took me a while to figure it out too. But I think I finally get it." Izuru worries his bottom lip with his teeth while deciding how to put his revelation in words. "Snakes shan't stop to enjoy their victims' taste. It's not in their nature to do so." He attempts at last. "You see, Gi – Ichimaru prides himself on being much like a reptile, so I figured what he really meant when he said that was," the blonde pauses, for effect or true uncertainty Ichigo can't tell, "men who were to try and become similar to snakes should know better than to take small bites when devouring their preys."
Silence. What, is this it? An orange eyebrow shoots upward. "How enlightening."
"Sorry. It's supposed to mean, if you set to be ruthless you have to go all the way."
Oh, now that's better. Wait, what's it got to do with him? Ichigo snorts, resolving to tackle the matter head-on. "Charming. Why are you saying all this to me again?"
Izuru's mouth falls open and closes a couple of times before the youth eventually retorts. "No reason. None at all." He suddenly looks in a haste to leave the room, and does just so, waving nervously at his red-haired friend before crossing the threshold. "Have a nice day, Kurosaki-kun!"
Ichigo feels like his day has been pretty much spoiled.

Slowly, one inch at a time, careful, careful not to tear, not to hurt, no more than it's bound to, dreading to scare him, dreading to harm him, fighting to control, control the desperate pull, the need, the need, running, running in his blood, pumping furiously in his veins, his, his –
Toshiro pushes back full force, practically impaling himself on Ichigo's cock. "Am not… gonna break, you idiot. Just get on with it."
Ichigo doesn't think he wants to 'just get on with it'. It is supposed to be their bloody first time, both Toshiro's and his own – what, he's not very experienced when it comes to homosexual intercourse – and it hardly seems right to, to just do it like it was nothing.
Shit, whenever has he cared about this sort of things before?
Pulling back a little, ever so cautiously, Ichigo waits for Toshiro's encouraging gasp to tell him it's okay to discard the metaphorical white gloves and take things to the next level. Breathing noisily through his nose he thrusts in, hissing at the crazy feeling of tight muscles squeezing his most sensitive part. Oh fuck, why have they waited so long for this? There's no way in hell Ichigo's going to last.
"Could use a bit harder, you know."
Toshiro's sarcastic remark pulls him out of reverie. Realizing he has pretty much stilled all movements to avoid bursting on the spot, Ichigo grunts an apology and brusquely jerks his hips to kneel more comfortably on the narrow bed – god knows college rooms are not fit for sex. Blood literally chills in his veins, though, as Toshiro lets out the loudest moan Ichigo's ever heard, and he's not sure that's a good thing, damnit. The carrot-top hastily slides out, only to be forced back in by an uncommonly vicious hand groping his ass.
"Don't. Move."
Fuckfuckfuck. What has he done? Has he hurt him? Has he damaged him? If yes, is it permanent? Maybe his sphincters have undergone too much pressure, causing the inner walls to strain o rip or…
Toshiro relaxes around Ichigo's hardness to let it in deeper, giving a trembling sigh in the process. "Damn. I didn't think that'd feel quite so good." The silver-haired prodigy turns to cast a backward glance at his lover, whose face must be totally blank at the moment if Toshiro's subsequent smirk is anything to go by. "What? You're the doctor."
Those revealing words are punctuated by a sharp roll of hips that all but sucks Ichigo's manhood further inside. The redhead screws his eyes tight shut in both sheer pleasure and utter shame. Prostate stimulation. That's fucking right. How convenient his urology exam isn't due for a couple of months yet! He's going to need much more practice in order to pass it.
All thoughts of university and exams desert him as Toshiro bumps back to meet his thrusting halfway and whimpers lustfully in the process. Here's when Ichigo realizes he's sort of let his guard down, judging by the painful throbbing of his own aching erection – he's a lot closer than he thought he, oh shit, Toshiro is jerking off.
"Ichigo, please."
The commanding tone is anything but begging, and Ichigo would be almost tempted to deny him were it not for the little detail that's his own impending release. So he obliges both Toshiro and himself by setting a frantic pace, pounding repeatedly into the quivering boy under him till his rock hard manhood is mercilessly squeezed by strong clenching muscles. Somewhere in the haze of the moment Ichigo leans over to rest his chest against Toshiro's well-defined back, wanting, needing to feel him closer – here's when the athlete throws his head back in ecstasy and increases the pace of his stroking. Ichigo makes sure to cover his lover's hand with his own before allowing himself to let go.
He comes, hard, noisily, moaning dirty nonsense next to Toshiro's ear. Bloody hell, climaxing inside someone else's body never felt this draining before. He rides off his orgasm in shallow thrusts until Toshiro reaches back to force him further in, obviously desperate for release himself. Coming down from his high, Ichigo pushes in as far as his softening cock would go and pumps his mate's leaking erection faster.
Fuck, if Toshiro isn't over soon they'll need to have another round in a few moments.
Luckily (or not) the whiz kid empties himself in his partner's hand within seconds, convulsing upon the now awfully messy and kind of sticky bed sheets. Ichigo absent-mindedly tells himself he'll have to bring them to the laundry before Renji comes back; then Toshiro wriggles meaningfully beneath him and he catches the drift, pulling out and rolling onto his side soon after.
They lie staring at the ceiling for a while. Better yet, Ichigo stares at the ceiling while Toshiro is face down struggling to regain his breath. The med student sneaks him a glance, then two, then three, before finally draping a casual arm around his slim waist.
Toshiro's sidelong gaze is quizzical for lack of a better word. "What're you doin'?"
Ichigo scoffs. "Jerk." Then he scoots closer to the captain, wrapping both his arms around the slender young man. At Toshiro's frown he replies with a mock exasperated eyeroll. "Cuddlin'. That's what lovers do, ya genius." Lovers? Whoa. I like the sound of that.
Toshiro snorts, but leans into the warm embrace nonetheless.

"Say, Karin."
"Huh?"
Ichigo has to will himself to take a deep breath. Damn, this is getting way harder than he thought it would. "Last week, when you – you had that game at – with your team, I – "
"It's okay you couldn't be there, Ichi-nii. I understand. Your friends were all very supportive anyway, so we're just cool."
"Yeah, that's kinda… my friends, you – who came again?"
"Who? Mh, let me see. Well, I had only invited Toshiro since he's sort of the pro, but Pineapple Head and the lot insisted on coming along."
I bet. Bloody snoops.
Ichigo is trying to collect his thoughts so that hopefully he won't sound as awkward as he's feeling when his little sister decides she's done waiting. "Why so interested all of a sudden, Ichi-nii? Is something the matter?"
"No. No, just…" Ay, there's the rub. "Karin." Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to – why the fuck Shakespeare now of all moments? ! "You don't… have feelings for Toshiro, do you?"
"Feelings?" The dark-haired girl blinks with extreme cautiousness, once, twice. "You mean if I like him?"
"Well, actually – yeah, that's what I mean."
As if mimicking her brother's oh-so-very common face, Karin scowls. "Of course I do. He's the one friend of yours who doesn't seem to be a complete tosser."
Can't argue with that. "Right, but do ya – do you think of him in a romantic sense?" Ichigo blurts out in one breath, his hands twitching in anguish behind his back. Fuck, someone kill him now, now, please, but he has to know. Has to know if he's running against his little sis for… 'cause he might just leave him to her, then, and be through with this. Even if it doesn't feel, well, right. To, to give him up. Give Toshiro up. For Karin's sake. Christ, isn't this utterly insane.
"Are you sure you're okay, Ichi-nii? You're all red and asking strange questions."
A pitiful groan escapes his lips before Ichigo can stop it. "Just answer?"
The girl is silent for a long minute, during which all kinds of equally dreadful scenarios cross the redhead's mind, before casually shrugging. "Why would I fancy him when he's clearly into my big bro?"
Ichigo hears a loud sigh of relief leave his own mouth. Then, as realization sinks in, a strangled croak. "He what?"
Showing off one more technique she's mastered by studying her brother, Karin practices her infamous eyeroll. "Half the time he's ogling at you like you were a piece of meat, the other half he's making moony eyes and being pathetically obvious. You're not going to tell me you've never noticed, right?"
"I – I…" As painfully lame as it sounds, Ichigo can't seem to find a single intelligible answer. Apart from the hurried, "thank you" he mutters while bolting out of the room, desperate to put as much distance as possible between himself and his ominously clever sister.
Seriously, the problem with smartheads? They seem to know it all ages before you do.

It's just plain absurd how intense Toshiro looks while bouncing in his lap with his mouth fallen slightly open, head bowed on Ichigo's shoulder, panting and whimpering softly in his ear.
"I…"
Ichigo shuts him up with a somewhat desperate kiss. The urgency in his move isn't lost on the smaller boy, who speeds up his riding, nails digging almost painfully in the thin fabric of the redhead's shirt.
It's getting uncomfortably hot in the car and the plastic seat cover is rubbing none too pleasantly against the softer skin of his exposed thighs, but Ichigo can't bring himself to care for anything other than Toshiro's intoxicating scent and the way he's pointedly rocking his hips, wriggling wonderfully all around the med student's erection. Chocolate brown eyes roll back in their orbits as the white-haired prodigy lifts himself up only to slump down hard, letting his lover's manhood deeper inside.
"I… I…"
And Ichigo knows. He couldn't not know, with the way Toshiro's eyes seek for his amidst the raising and thrusting and fucking – damn, even the definition sounds right no longer. He tries to stop those goddamn three words from flowing past his lover's lips by setting a steady pace, aiming at Toshiro's sweet spot with every jolt of his hips, but it's insanely hard to oblige their bodies when, when –
– when there's so much to be said yet, and Toshiro is practically begging to just let it out and give this thing between them a whole new meaning. Ichigo can't pretend like he doesn't know exactly what's going on, even if it's crazy, really, how much things have changed in the past year. How he's grown to care. To feel.
"Ichigo!"
Toshiro grinds his throbbing cock into the carrot-top's taut belly before clenching his inner muscles spasmodically. Ichigo cups that sharp, astoundingly gorgeous face between his palms and gasps right on the kiss-swollen lips of that beautiful little god in his arms.
"I know. I know."
They kiss and thrust and moan, and it's all over in a swirl of pure white.
Afterwards, once Toshiro has started squirming to slip back in his pants, it's all Ichigo can do not to pin him against the passenger seat and snog him senseless while muttering stupid lovey-dovey crap on his lips. He's still struggling to keep his instincts under restraint when a weak sigh comes from Toshiro's general direction.
"Ichigo."
The redhead stretches over the gearshift to put an arm around the back of his passenger's seat. "Mh?" Then the captain raises his head to look up, and Ichigo instantly knows he's got to stop him before –
"I love you."
– it's too late. Damn it.
Because he can't. He… Ichigo just can't. It's simply not on.
A low hiss escapes him as the carrot-top scoots even closer, rubbing the tip of his nose against Toshiro's temple affectionately. Lovingly. Fuck. "I know."
He whispers it again and again, and prays that it will do. For Ichigo isn't sure if he can ever say the words, but there's no way he's going to give this up now.
I know is not I love you too. Yet somehow, as Toshiro curls by his side, words don't seem to matter so much anymore.

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- 9
- 10
- 11
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Happy Ending