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. |
2 o'clock in the morning, something's on my mind
Can't get no rest, keep walkin' around.
If I pretend that nothin' ever went wrong,
I can get to my sleep,
I can think that we just carried on.
"You cannot possibly be serious." It's a quarter past two in the morning, his head aches like an army of trolls are having a happy new year party in it, and what's worst Renji just won't stop pacing around the large, elegant living room no matter how pitiful Ichigo tries to sound while asking him. Not serious. Yeah, 'cause there's so much to be joking about 'round here. "Think I enjoy feelin' like this?" The pineapple head freezes on the spot. Ichigo can't help but notice the nervous twitching at the corners of the man's mouth. Well, guess he can't be blamed. Must be hard to deal with him at the moment. "It's – it's just – I don't get it, 'kay? You two were fine, hell, more than fine up until, what?, six hours ago? What the fuck could go wrong in such a short while?" Ichigo sinks deeper in his leather armchair. "The hell I know. Why, would you just stop doin' that?" Renji obediently quits his maniacal pacing and nearly slumps down on the rug at his feet. "Thanks a lot." The tattooed man seems to focus intently on the geometric patterns of the carpet. "You called me for a reason, Ichigo." He utters quietly at last, his fingers tangling playfully in the soft fur. "And I wanna help. But you need giving out details, you know, otherwise I'll – " Ichigo looks down at his own hands, the same hands that had clutched, petted, explored Toshiro's skin less than half a day ago. The irony of it all. "Leave it. I've changed my mind. You can go if you want." Renji's head shoots up. "What's this s'posed to mean?" The redhead frowns. "We're friends. I'm not dumping you here all by yourself, especially when you're in such a state." Ichigo's eyebrows arch in bitter amusement. "Dump me here? Take a look around, mate. This house's a fucking manor." "Yeah, and you hate it." "Do I really?" The carrot-top smiles sourly. "Am not sure of anything anymore." Resting his head on his palms, elbows digging in the rough skin of his knees, Renji looks up at the other man with pensive, compassionate eyes. Fuck, not once in the three years they've known each other has he seen Ichigo this bad-off. Bloody midget's messed him up big time. "Tell me what happened already?" Renji urges gently yet firmly, not willing to take no as an answer. What happened. Ichigo sneers to himself.
The windows are fogged with their heavy breathing. Damn seatbelt keeps getting tangled up in the mess that is their joined limbs, but neither men care, as engrossed as they are in their hot foreplay. Ichigo is driven crazy by the insistent jerking of his lover's hips, which keep grinding up none too subtly into his own to urge him on. They both are already half-naked from the waist down (it's too bloody cold to even think of undressing completely), and their hard-ons are brushing deliciously against one another, eliciting low, strained whimpers every now and then. Ichigo is going to take his sweet time, though. He's had the feeling something good is to happen before the night is over, and lord knows he's taking as much as he can out of this unique chance at intimacy.
Things with Toshiro have been going amazingly smoothly for the past two months or so. Could it be the white-haired boy has finally forgiven him? Ichigo's allowed himself to raise his hopes. The pace is growing frantic now – Toshiro moans louder with each time the redhead thrusts his tongue into his mouth, and their tented underpants are totally drenched in pre-cum, the thin fabric threatening to tear as they greedily rock together. Later Ichigo will blame it on the heat of the moment, but truth is Toshiro looks, smells, feels like pure heaven, and he just can't help himself. "Oi… guess what, Shiro-chan." "Don't call me tha-ahn! Nnngh, Ichigo…" "I think I might be falling just a wee bit in love with ya." Toshiro goes rigid as a statue. "Well? Not gonna say anything?" "… why bother. It's the booze talking." This is not the reaction Ichigo had hoped for. The 20-year-old's raises on his elbows, distancing himself from the smaller man's body. "Can hold my liquor damn well, n' you know it." He snaps in resentment. Then he adds what's possibly the worst thing to say at the very worst time with the very worst face on – smiling amusedly. "Is it really that hard to believe you might have grown on me? We've been together for a while now. Thought it was what you wanted too?" Next thing Ichigo knows his right eye's throbbing with blinding, excruciating ache after the vicious punch Toshiro has blown him. His whole face feels like on fire, and he's pretty sure a tooth or two have started dangling dangerously loose at the right side of his mouth. It doesn't hurt nearly as bad as seeing the white-haired boy rush out of the car and disappear into the night, though. "Damn it, Toshiro!" No use crying out. With midnight's approaching, fireworks are burning with coloured flames and sparks in the sky, making for a bright, beautiful display. Ichigo's heart bumps in sync with the loud detonations, skipping many a beat. The air in the car seems suddenly heavy, thick with the smell of arousal and abandon. His breath keeps getting caught in his throat. Fuck, he hadn't had a panic attack in ages! Gasping to take long mouthfuls of oxygen, Ichigo rummages frantically through the dashboard, finally producing a long forsaken inhaler he wraps his lips around gratefully. As the med fills his lungs he watches his own new year's eve party going on undisturbed beyond the now clearing windows. His sore eye twitches painfully, his hands shake, and before he even knows it Ichigo is starting the car, clutching onto the wheel for dear life."You wanted me to follow him." Since Renji's is not really a question, the carrot-top doesn't bother answering. "Why though? Even with my persuading skills and all I highly doubt I could make him change his mind." Ichigo shakes his head slowly, eyes glued to the ground in stubborn rebuffing of contact. "I guess I just wanted to make sure he'd be okay. It's pretty crazy out there tonight." Then, as an afterthought, he lifts his gaze to cast a guilty look at his interlocutor. "Sorry. It's just occurred to me I've ruined your night as well." A sad yet honest smile twists his lips. "Thanks for coming." "Don't mention it." Renji waves the matter aside, taking to scrutiny his friend's face instead. "How's your eye again?" "I think I almost managed to blink a moment ago." The pineapple head can't refrain from grinning at the sour joke. "Well, then things are looking up!" Ichigo reckons they are.
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