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Thrice In Our Lives	By : Ardespuffy Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Hitsugaya/Ichigo Views: 2789 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor its characters. I do not make money out of writing this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
DISCLAIMER: Tite Kubo owns all things Bleach.

WARNINGS (for this chapter only):IchiHitsu established, yaoi, some fooling around though nothing graphic. I'm back to the usual characterization for this final shot, so yeah, these are the same Ichigo and Toshiro from 'Frost Time', the 'Habit' Series and so on. More precisely, this is set a few months after Make It A Habit, which there might be some references to hither and thither.

GENRE (for this chapter only): humour, romance, a little fluff toward the end.

SUMMARY: "If we can do it we should be damn able to say it!"

3. A Lime In Between

At times it's the littlest things than can blow out your plans. For instance, there's something utterly disarming about stepping foot into your house after a long school day to find a pair of foreign shoes in the hallway. Now, Ichigo's general dislike for people, especially unwanted afternoon guests, is no secret for anyone – at least, not anyone close enough to pay the Kurosaki a visit, so it's like a dog chasing its tail, really. The redhead takes off his own shoes and sighs as loudly as possible. Rudeness treatment works to scare some people off: let's see if I'm getting lucky…

The second he walks into the kitchen Ichigo knows he'll have to reconsider his definition of luck anyway.

"Oi!"

"You're back." Greets a remarkably out of place 10th division Hitsugaya-taichou, sitting at the table with his most collected face on.

"Toshiro. What are you doing here?"

The ice master seems – illogically, Ichigo thinks – taken aback by the – most legitimate, Ichigo argues again – question. "I was waiting for you. Is… is this the wrong place? I didn't know where else to – I haven't touched anything."

"That's not it!" Gods, that's what you get for mingling with creatures from another friggin' dimension. Their priorities are awfully messed up, seriously. "I meant what are you doing here, in, y'know, in this world."

All traces of bewilderment wiped away from his stoic features, Toshiro stretches his arms across the table. If Ichigo didn't know better, he'd be tempted to say the kid looks much like a cute lazy kitty right now. Hell, the horrific deceits of first impressions! "Karin had a match. She asked me to come see her play. Her team won, so they were going someplace I didn't quite catch to celebrate afterwards. I knew you'd be getting home from school soon enough, though, so I declined the offer and came here to wait."

"Oh. I see. Well, thanks." Ichigo scratches the back of his head. "This…" He trails off abruptly. This is the kind of situation that leaves him at a total loss for what to do, but it somehow feels like a bad idea to tell Toshiro. Opting for a discreet getaway, the demi-hollow gestures at the schoolbag in his hand. "I have to… you know, drop this upstairs and all. It'll only take a minute."

"Fine. I'll be waiting right here."

Ichigo frowns. Something's off with the prodigy's answer, but he's not exactly sure what it is. "You can come along." He points out the obvious. Which is apparently none too obvious to Toshiro, if the captain's total unresponsiveness is anything to go by. Struck by a sudden suspicion, Ichigo inquires. "Where's everyone?"

"Your father's at the clinic and Yuzu was with me at the match. She's gone partying with Karin and her fellows."

Tch. That's hardly everyone. Lucky Toshiro's got no idea what it means to live with the Kurosaki family. "How 'bout Kon?"

The fleeting smirk that crosses Hitsugaya's face for the briefest moment as the kid shows the round green pill on his palm is enough to prove Ichigo wrong.

"Got it." Instinctively, the redhead licks his suddenly dry lips. "That means…"

Apparently, Toshiro isn't getting 'out of instinct' as an excuse. "Get your mind outta the gutter, Kurosaki!" The prodigy barks, arms folded across his chest. "I'm not here for that."

"How did you know I – never mind." Gods, just in time. A slip like that could easily spoil the mood for the day. Ichigo combs his untamed hair back with one hand, wrinkling his nose. It feels like treading on thin ice, but he can't just not ask. "Toshiro… well, don't get me wrong, but… you're only ever here for that."

Blushing Hitsugaya-taichou is a rare, thus priceless sight. "I was thinking maybe we could do something else this time." The ice master mutters, scrupulously avoiding eye contact. "That's why we're better off in a de-bedded environment. Just so, you know. We don't yield to our… hormones and… shit like that." (Hormones being part of the basic scientific vocabulary the captain had wanted to learn in order to overcome the embarrassment derived from discussing sexual matters.)

Ichigo's brain process is dangerously slowing down due to the myriads of captivating images forming in his 16-year-old's head. "Something else." He repeats dumbly, before pulling himself together. "Like, what? Watching a movie? Or just… dunno, talk?"

Something akin to hope crosses teal eyes as they rise to meet light brown ones again. "Talk sounds fine."

It's kind of endearing, really, how utterly beautiful Ichigo finds his partner's moments of shyness to be. The demi-hollow adjusts the schoolbag on his shoulders and smiles, a tiny, cautious twitching of lips. "Understood. 'lright, be right back."

Toshiro watches the redhead's back disappear at the top of the staircase. Now, what's with this odd sense of… cold? The captain could swear his reiatsu is well under control this time. Slightly disorientated, Toshiro stands up and begins roaming aimlessly around.

The Kurosaki's kitchen is a plain cosy room, or would be without the eerie poster stuck to the wall. While many would consider keeping such a large picture of your dead wife in display as lack of decorum, Isshin Kurosaki, ever the eccentric, was firmly convinced that having a giant photo of their mother around made for next best after the real thing in his daughters' education. Toshiro would beg to differ, but it wasn't his place to do so. Either way, the bloody thing gives me the creeps. Feels like her eyes follow my every move. Scuffing his feet in discomfort, the captain walks out of the kitchen and into the adjacent living room.

Even here the furniture is plain and simple but all surfaces, from the coffee table to the TV screen, shine with Yuzu's maniacal care for house chores. Toshiro's inner bookworm feels instantly drawn to a tall bookshelf in a corner. Once in close proximity, though, it's not the books that catch the taichou's attention, but rather a series of framed pictures aligned on the jutting shelf. Feeling slightly nervous about prying into other people's business but unable to hold back, Toshiro lets his eyes wander. Some pictures featuring Masaki surrounded by her children look pretty old – gods, is that even Ichigo? The obnoxious Shinigami Hitsugaya has known bears short to no resemblance to the cute little boy smiling brightly in the photograph. They say a person's face and body change in time, while eyes stay the same throughout their entire life; Ichigo's eyes, however, appear to have changed a lot. Or maybe it's just his gaze, Toshiro muses, still staring intently at the portrait.

Most recent pictures show Ichigo just like the boy has been for many years now: scowling, frowning and looking all in all aggravated. The bloke must think taking photos is a big pain in the ass – Toshiro can't help but agree (even if it scares him to no end. C'mon, whatever have Ichigo and he agreed on before? Well, aside from sex. They get along just fine when it comes to that. But Toshiro's mind won't go there just now, thank you. Back on track.). One of the pictures, the captain is fairly sure, was taken on Kurosaki's 16th birthday: half of the Gotei's ranked officers are there in their gigais, most looking completely smashed. Toshiro grimaces. Call him heartless, but he can't bring himself to regret not taking part in the drunken mess. Besides, it's not like he and Ichigo didn't have their private party afterwards, he recalls with a slight blush creeping over his cheeks.

Anyone who'd look at the photos in line as they were would notice the change in the redhead's expression, the icy dragon decides. It's plain to see something got broken in the way. Toshiro shifts uncomfortably to shake off the heavy weight that's suddenly propped down on his chest, then strides over the couch and sits with his back straight against the stuffed cushions.

"People usually turn it on, you know."

Ichigo's voice startles him. And a startled Hitsugaya-taichou is an unhappy Hitsugaya-taichou. "What the hell are you going on about now? B'sides, it's not nice to sneak up on people like that."

"And here I thought it was impossible to sneak up on almighty captain Snow White! What happened to your prodigious reiatsu-dar?" No answer comes. Ichigo raises his eyebrows. Now, the 10th division taichou is not known for letting people get away with calling him nicknames. Especially utterly humiliating ones – height-related, for instance. And, seriously, Snow White? Many have died for less than this. So, why isn't Toshiro at his throat right now?

The white-haired boy's mind has clicked the moment Ichigo walked into the room. The redhead's lips had been arched in a light smile that gave his features a casual, relaxed expression. The same contented face he had on in the oldest pictures on the shelf. Toshiro frowns. This gives his speculations some sort of a twist. He had automatically assumed Ichigo's change had everything to do with his mother's death; so, why would he look this… well, at peace now? The difference is striking, even though – even though Toshiro himself had never given it much thought before he came across those family pictures.

Taking his partner's silence as a good sign, Ichigo ventures to prop down on the couch next to him, a tad closer than propriety would call for. "So… wanna watch TV?"

Toshiro is still racking his brain when the question comes. "I thought we'd settled for having a talk." He objects in bewilderment.

Chocolate brown eyes roll in their orbits. "Yeah, but you're sitting on the couch, right in front of – people usually…" Ichigo sighs at the captain's clueless expression. "Never mind." How foolish of him to expect Toshiro would find anything strange with sitting on a sofa staring at an off telly.

They sit in awkward silence for a moment, until the demi-hollow's next attempt at conversation. "So, how was the game?"

"Interesting. You should have been there."

"I had school."

Toshiro glares. "Don't give me that shit, you weren't even aware Karin was playing. You're a pretty crappy brother, y'know."

Ichigo sputters in outrage. "Says who?"

"Not Yuzu nor Karin, they're too kind for that. I can't for the love of anything understand why, but you're their bloody hero. Nothing you do is ever wrong to them." Toshiro snorts, then casts a sidelong dirty look in Ichigo's general direction. "This doesn't give you the right to take them for granted, though."

"Geez, what's with all the lecturing all of a sudden?" The redhead huffs. Honestly, what the fuck? Like he's one to talk. He practices kid� on his cousin! "If that's what you meant by having a chat, I think I'll pass."

"You're a one-track minded jerk, Kurosaki."

"No, I'm not. Hell, what's wrong with you?"

"Apparently, you are what's wrong with me."

"How – !" Then it hits him. Ichigo finds himself repressing the urge to chuckle. Seriously, Toshiro's defence mechanisms? Totally endearing, if you ask him. "This is not working. Whatever you're trying to do, that is." He explains as gently as possible, dreading to make the mocking in his voice too obvious. "Not working. So, you might as well spit out what's the matter. That's kind of what you do when you're having a talk with your – " Ha! Hichigo pops up from his comfortable hiding place, ever willing to help. Can't say it, can ya king? " – whatever." Ichigo ends lamely.

The 10th division captain turns to look fully at the boy beside him. "I think this hits the nail on the head." He utters quietly, finally voicing his private train of thought aloud. His tone takes on an irritated edge as he adds. "If we can do it we should be damn able to say it!" One more sneaked glance, then a sigh. "Whatarewe?"

Toshiro's words are spat out so fast Ichigo fails to process them. "What…"

"And before you speak your dirty mind: it's not like sleeping together actually qualifies us as anything."

The redhead's eyebrows twitch in amusement. Now this is rich. "You call that sleeping together?"

Toshiro's facial expression switches from annoyed embarrassment to murderer intent in a fraction of a second. "Sleeping, fucking, whatever. You really are a perv, Kurosaki."

"I wasn't trying to make you say it, I – " Ichigo sighs through gritted teeth. Guess this was bound to come up sooner or later. "I meant it's hardly sleeping together if every time I nearly have to tie you down to keep you in bed afterwards." His voice lowers by several octaves till it sounds like little more than a whisper toward the end.

The swordsman frowns at the subdued look on the carrot-top's face. Tch. Who the hell is he trying to impress with those kicked puppy eyes? "This is beside the point. I'd appreciate – "

"Is it now?" Ichigo looks him in the eyes and Toshiro is screwed.

Damn manipulative jerk. The whole staying in bed afterwards is one of their many unsolved issues, one Kurosaki finds particularly bothersome at that. Of course the icy taichou can't see what the big deal is – heck, it gets friggin' hot in bed after they're done, and it's all the more uncomfortable since none of the surfaces they happen to have their intercourses on is ever suitable for two, and don't even have him start with the hygiene abhorrence that is lazing about on those dirty sheets! – nor why should it trouble Ichigo so much, but it's plain to see that it does, so this… kind of… makes it his problem to solve, right? 'Cause this is how you act around your treasured ones – you share their burdens as well as their joys, and they do the same for you, and, and all that shit. Right? Toshiro groans inwardly at his own idiocy. Honestly, treasured ones? They really need to arrange for a better definition of whatever the hell they are, or he'll get depressed. That had been his point in the first place, before Kurosaki decided to twist the cards and mess with his head. Well, bad news for the asshole: you just don't mess with a captain's head and get out unharmed.

Although… Ichigo looks so…

Toshiro moans in defeat. Fuck, have I softened. "I will accept discussing the matter you've raised after we've been through with my question." He mumbles what he's told to be a concession, then, straightening his back against the armrest, turns to sit crosswise on the couch, his legs dangling over the edge. Ichigo stares at him funnily, but the ice master is not getting distracted again. "So, what do you reckon we should be labelled as?"

The substitute Shinigami pulls a disgruntled face. Damn, labelled? Such a crude choice of words! "I don't know a bloody thing 'bout labels, Toshiro." He grunts, only relaxing a bit upon seeing the captain isn't throwing a tantrum for his omission of formalities. "This – we are not some kind of paperwork you need to get over and done with, taichou." The mere thought makes blood rush to his head. It's all Ichigo can do not to let a new surge of anger have the best of him. "And you can't leave it up to me to do all the work like I was your subordinate."

Despite his extraordinary IQ, Toshiro can't help replaying the same words (paperwork, paperwork, we are not, subordinate, some kind of paperwork, taichou) in his head over and over, unable to move on. Resentment gets the upper hand on all other emotions in the end. Heck, is this what the git thinks? The captain's fists clench. "Don't be ridiculous, Kurosaki."

Toshiro is getting used to the now tense atmosphere, so quickly in fact he's almost startled when Ichigo leans forward, reducing the distance between their bodies. "I'll tell you what." The redhead speaks up conversationally. "Each of us shall say how he feels about this… label thing, then we can sort of meet halfway." The demi-hollow's smile wavers a bit while met with the swordsman's obvious diffidence. "What?"

Hitsugaya holds the other boy's gaze for a moment, before uncrossing his legs and raising on his feet. "Forget it. 'twas a silly question from the beginning."

"Fine, I'll start." Ichigo's voice has him stop dead in motion before the captain has the chance to take more than a single step. Toshiro wills himself to keep his back turned on the orange-haired teen, even if half his body and soul are literally yearning to look.

"You are… my most special person."

Hy�rinmaru's owner screws his eyes tight shut. This cannot possibly be happening, can it?

There's no need to look to tell Ichigo's lips are twisted in a tiny smirk. "We're friends. And I like you quite a lot, in case you didn't notice."

Smartass, Toshiro snorts to himself.

"Above all other things," a short pause, long enough to make the captain's heart beat faster in his chest, "whatever the case, you are the person I feel the strongest about."

…

"And you know what? I don't give a damn what you wish to call me, so long as you keep wanting to call me."

Toshiro turns to a – foolishly, foolishly, he's such a fool but damn has he grown on you – grinning Kurosaki.

"That is all that matters to me." Here the 16-year-old bends over the armrest to grab his whatever's arm and pull him closer, but it turns out he really needn't bother since next thing he knows Toshiro is practically straddling him, his pale fingers entwining in red locks with bad-disguised passion. Ichigo's 'mmmph' of surprise gets muffled as the white-haired young man presses his lips fiercely against their equally eager, if astounded, partners. They kiss fervently, Toshiro's tongue seeking promptly granted entrance first. Their breaths mingle and bodies meld together, Ichigo shifting ever so slightly to allow his lover's legs to settle at each side of him, thus deepening the contact of skin-on-skin. Well, clothed skin, but still.

It's not until the kid captain's hips begin grinding down into his, effectively rubbing their groins together, that the carrot-top realizes things are getting out of hand.

Now, just how do you stop desiring your whatev – let's call him boyfriend shall we? – your boyfriend with every friggin' cell in your body for just enough time to push him off of you when he's in such a delectable predicament? Hell, why would you even want to, for crying out loud? 'Cause it's not right. Hichigo happily supplies, once more amazing his king with his ability to show up at any given moment. N' it makes it look like he wins.

Shiro's most impressive talent was always pushing his host's buttons with clinical precision, as Ichigo is painfully reminded of at the latter assertion. That's why, fighting against all primal urges and even common sense, the demi-hollow jerks his head backward, snatching his lips away from the gentle and passionate hold of his lover's. "Huh, T'shiro – " Fuck, is this hard. Getting harder by the minute, as the prodigy's rocking motion makes almost impossible to forget.

Defying his own usual reserve, Toshiro takes the break in their kissing as a chance to focus his attentions on the carrot-top's neck, collarbone, earlobe, revelling in the sheer self-satisfaction that having Ichigo squirm under him provides. Soon the school uniform necktie gets in the way, and the captain takes to tugging at it with impatience – he likes classy, but if the sodding garment doesn't come off right now…

Gods, this is surreal. Ichigo had never thought it possible the day would come he'd have to reject Toshiro's advances, mostly because Toshiro does not make advances. The carrot-top goes rigid under the smaller boy's assault, though he can't help reclining his head against the cushions to give more room for those amazingly sinful kisses. "Thought you weren't here for that this time." He half sighs half moans as Toshiro nibbles and sucks gently at his pulse point. Sodding tease. Ichigo feels himself hardening, the grey fabric of the uniform pants straining against his want.

The ice master buries his head in the crook of the other's neck, muttering something about a change of heart. Then he wriggles meaningfully, and Ichigo's eyes roll back in their orbits. "You – " The redhead clears his croaked voice. "You'll admit this is unbecoming of you." Bloody understatement, Toshiro is all but ravishing him on the spot.

Teal eyes meet amber ones for a split moment, before the captain goes back to the task of popping Ichigo's shirt buttons open. " 's not wise to question your luck." The boy lets out a soft growl.

Okay, okay, desperate times call for desperate measures. Ichigo grips his uncharacteristically eager lover's wrists, holding them in place against his own chest. Where they seem to belong quite deliciously, really. The sub Shinigami shakes his head to regain composure. "Toshiro." He calls out, wincing at the blatant panting in his voice. Geez, way to sound like yer in control here, Hichigo helpfully sneers. "We never really finished our talk."

Here it comes, the revealing hitch in the whiz kid's breath. Awestruck, Ichigo feels Toshiro go rigid against him and pull back as if the faintest contact could burn him.

The look in those jade eyes, however, is not the deadly one Kurosaki was anticipating. The captain stares at him quizzically, his sharp features twisted in a 'have we not?' face, for the longest moment. Then – Ichigo gasps in shock and delight – Toshiro is kissing him, slowly, softly yet with such wonderful intensity the redhead feels his legs weaken under the light weight. When they finally part the white-haired prodigy breathes on his lover's swollen lips. "Love you."

Well. Well. Ichigo has dreamed about this, fantasized about this happening, but it was never, never like this. Mainly 'cause it was never real. Toshiro sounds cool as always, like those two little words meant nothing different from what they usually tell each other, while he is having a fucking heart attack any moment now! Life's just not bloody fair. Then again, to look so calm whilst saying… it for the first time (it has to be, it'd better be the first time Toshiro says something like this out loud, for Ichigo could easily plan any lucky whatshisface's painful demise and get some help putting it in practice – Kenpachi would so be begging to jump into action…) seems quite a tough feat even for the straight-faced ice master. Guess I'd underestimated him again. That or… Or, Ichigo briefly considers as Toshiro resumes planting sensual butterfly kisses along his jaw line, there's many a way to say I love you, words being not nearly enough to cover each. The redhead shivers in pleasure under the swordsman's ministrations.

"Then show me."

Both men still for a moment, Ichigo just as startled as the other youth by what has escaped his lips. Before he can even think of taking it back, though, Toshiro's tongue is in his mouth, soon enough down his throat, while the boy's hands roam enthusiastically about his front, tearing and pulling at every bit of fabric they come across. The demi-hollow is nearly surrendering to his own want – Toshiro is seated right upon his pretty interested manhood, and with all the kissing and panting and writhing adding up it's all he can do not to jump out of his clothes and take the captain right then and there – but something oddly enough strikes him as…

Wrong.

The moment Toshiro's fingers set to unfasten his belt Ichigo bursts. "Don't!" The carrot-top sighs at the comprehensible bewilderment on the taichou's face. "Not… like this. I don't want you to… that's not what I…"

Ichigo's struggling with words sets Toshiro aflame. Fuming, the white-haired boy goes to climb off the other's lap, only to have his arms pinned forcefully against the sub Shinigami's chest. "What do you want, Kurosaki?" A dangerously low growl escapes his throat.

Ichigo pulls him closer, his lips grazing the whiz kid's temples. "Love me." Comes out as soft, shaky whisper. "The way I love you."

Scoffing, Toshiro withdraws. "You really are a sissy, you know that right?" He sneers, then playfully shoves at his partner's chest to put some distance.

"Don't take it out on me! 's not my fault you can't handle rejection."

Ichigo can't even begin to feel frightened by Toshiro's threateningly narrowing his eyes – CRASH. Both guys jump and instinctively split apart as something suspiciously similar to a cannonball breaks in through the window, smashing the glass with a loud shattering noise. Ichigo's eyes follow the intruding object as it lands on the floor, then rolls across the living room with the force of its given boost. A soccer ball? "What the hell? !"

Proud shouting is heard from the outside. "Ha, you were right, Karin! This is way more effective than my methods!" Then none other than Kurosaki Isshin jumps into the room through the empty space left by the demolished window. "Gooooood afternoon, son ~ ! Say, how was that for a – oh Toshiro-kun, ye there too? Yuzu darling, set five places! We're having a precious guest over at dinner!"

The 10th division captain looks positively panic stricken. "Actually I'm not – I have to – sorry, Kurosaki-san, but I can't – "

Aiming to please, Ichigo leaps to his feet and pats the other boy on the shoulder. "Of course he's staying." He pipes up, hoping his beaming won't look too obvious. Hell, guess there really is a god above after all! Who'd have thought the chance to make his point across would come so soon? The redhead grins before turning his attention to the little girls who are just walking in by the door – may normal human beings be blessed. "Oi, Karin. Heard you did great. Congrats." Ichigo can barely hear his sister's baffled 'thank you' with Toshiro urgently tugging at his sleeve.

"Kurosaki, you downright prick – !"

Ichigo waits until his relatives have disappeared beyond the kitchen door to reply. "This'll teach you not to bolt afterwards." He smirks, visibly pleased with himself, then leans forth to whisper directly in his lover's ear. "You never know what wicked kind of vengeance a man left all alone in bed can plot!"

With that he's off, leaving behind a stunned, very much out of himself Hitsugaya. Seriously, dinner with the Kurosaki? A fucking big bad affair, as proven by a few accidental circumstances occurred in the recent past – too recent for Toshiro to forget and move on. And it wasn't all because of those goddamn ever-present dried persimmons, either.

"Come on and join us, Toshiro-kun! The sooner we're through the better. I'm practicing with my lovely little Karin-chan after dinner. She says I've got the makings of a striker!"

Having cast a meaningful glance at the smashed glass on the floor (that struck alright, the captain muses), Toshiro sighs and drags his feet toward the kitchen, inwardly going over all known types of punishment to decide what would fit Ichigo best. Now, if only that crazy Zaraki mutt could spare a fellow captain some time… The ice master smirks.

After all there's many a way to say I love you and just as many to take revenge.

.

Owarida! Nnnngh, I got sort of irritated toward the end. Hope it doesn't show. Much.

Thanks to everyone who read/fav'd/reviewed! As for the spin-off of 'Lust Time'... yay, I'm off working on it right away c8 and it's going to be a longfic!

As usual: leave me a comment to let me know what you thought of this =3 it really, really makes my whole week, you know. Thank you all again. *w*
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Thrice In Our Lives