Stay | By : RinjiGrey Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female Views: 2835 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- 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. |
Stay
Renji
took up any culture's customs that involved drinking, so when he
bounded across the training field to her whooping and waving his
arms, she was not surprised.
She'd
seen his calendar (stolen from the Urahara Shoten) marked in red with
each occasion that would require her to accompany him to pubs and
bars all around the world. He swore it rounded out their characters
to know so much about the “unique celebrations of humans.”
Byakuya disagreed and called these celebrations “nothing more
than another excuse for his division and his name to be made a
mockery of,” but allowed Renji to go, enjoying the peace with
his vice-captain gone.
There
was no getting out of it. Arguing and coming up with excuses only
m,ade Renji more determined to get her to go. She'd long ago learned
to pick her battles with the fiery redhead. He dragged her along,
meeting up with Matsumoto, Ikkaku, Yumichika, Hisagi, a reluctant and
downtrodden Kira, Iba, and most of the 11th on the way.
She put on a smile and joked with everyone, acting as though nothing
was bothering her.
But
she felt empty inside regardless of the alcohol she tried to fill
herself with. She knew how this night would end. She was torn
between hating herself, and hating the man who would inevitably end
up convincing her that sex would be a great idea. Honestly, it
wouldn't take much convincing. She wanted it just as bad as he did,
even if it wasn't him she wanted. His face brought her nothing but
pain and she'd learned how to channel that pain into mindless lust.
Sex was an escape for her.
The
night ended with most of them passed out at Ishida's apartment. The
humans were always willing to go with them on their drinking
adventures. The Shinigami were were often the life of the party.
“Happy
New Year, Rukia,” Ichigo's voice whispered as he leaned down
to place a quick kiss on her cheek. They'd walked to his house. She
would not be sleeping in the closet tonight.
She
smiled. “You know, it's not the Japanese new year.”
Ichigo's
eyes crossed momentarily as his slightly inebriated mind processed
her words. “So? It's someone else's new year, we should be
happy for them, right?”
“Right.”
She
waited as he fumbled with his keys and followed him as he led her to
his room. His shushing was loud and unnecessary, but it made her
chuckle to herself.
As
soon as the door closed behind them he was on her, his lips all over
her face, his hands trying to get past the zippers and buttons of the
dress Ishida had made for her (complete with a Quincy cross on the
inside hem of her right sleeve).
“For
fuck's sake...,” he grumbled, ripping the soft material.
“Oops.”
She
looked up at him and waited patiently for him to calm down. He
always rushed into this, as he did with everything else in his life.
He often fucked like he fought; aggressive and energetic. Definitely
goal-oriented. Most times she didn't mind. The sooner this farce
was over, the better.
He
sighed and tried to compose himself, going cross eyed again. He
pouted and stepped back, bumping against the bed. His hands were
fidgety and his eyes were all over her. It flattered her that he was
still so nervous after having done this so many times.
She
shook her head, amused. Her hands deftly undid the buttons of the
dress and she let it fall to the floor. There, the hard part was
done. Her eyes caught his and she inhaled sharply at the look in his
eyes. No matter the fact that she would hate herself when this was
over, it didn't mean she didn't enjoy it while it was happening.
No
man looked at her the way he did. Not even Renji. When his eyes
were on her, she felt like the only woman in the world. She could
feel his love and desire for her radiating off him. It was almost as
visible to her as his spirit thread. Her mind let her see him as
himself. It did not change him into someone else yet.
“Rukia...,”
His voice was deeper now, laced with need and he came forward to
grab her and smash their lips together.
She
allowed him anything he wanted. Her body was his. She dropped her
head back and exposed her throat to him, earning a hum of approval.
She tried to keep her eyes open, begging her mind not to take him
away just yet. He deserved so much more than this.
She
couldn't recall him getting undressed. There were clothes strewn
across the floor and his desk. His skin was scorching under her
fingers and she revelled in the blistering heat of him engulfing her.
His reiatsu was a palpable force in the room, pressing against her,
demanding her attention. But his kisses on her neck and strong arms
around her, carrying her to his bed, forced her eyes closed and he
soon vanished, replaced by a memory.
She
stayed her tongue before it betrayed her and kissed the mirage above
her with passion she'd bottled up over the years.
It
was frantic this time. He rushed for fear that the alcohol he'd had
too much of would ruin his stamina. There was not much foreplay.
His large hands cupped her breasts appreciatively for a moment, then
swept down her body to hoist her closer to him. She didn't care.
All she wanted was to feel him inside her, thick and hot and more
filling than anything she'd ever known. As always, she wanted this
time to be the time where he would burn himself into her. She needed
him to be the one to keep her into reality, no matter how much her
heart wanted him to be another.
Even
when she opened her eyes, it was Kaien she saw. Kaien's dark hair
with her hands buried in it, Kaien's strong body over hers, moving in
and out of her. That body knew every move to make, knew everywhere
to singe her with it's fire. She even saw the Shiba tattoo on his
left arm as he braced himself beside her head. The deep voice that
whispered his love for her was Kaien's, not Ichigo's. She stared at
gentle blue eyes as they took her in, watching her face carefully.
They flickered brown for a moment then returned to blue as a pleased
smile graced his lips.
“I
love it when you look at me like that,” He lowered his head
and she squeezed her eyes shut again, biting back tears. She would
not cry for him, or for herself.
Her
thighs tightened at his waist as his thrusting became erratic and
rough. His groans were caught in her hair and she was nearly lifted
off the bed with the force of his orgasm. She came soon after,
pushed beyond her limits as her name tumbled out of his mouth like a
mantra. He kept thrusting, slowly riding out his own pleasure and
sending shivers up her spine.
When
he'd finally moved off her and settled behind her, sleeping soundly,
reality set back in. Orange hair and no tattoo. She knew this man's
eyes to be a gentle brown. This man...
Hate
swelled up and consumed her for a blinding moment. She almost hit
him. But her hand squeezed the arm he draped across her instead.
Her own emotions never failed to amaze her at how much she wanted to
blame Ichigo for this whole thing. It was not his fault he looked so
like Kaien. It was not his fault that she would never love him the
way he wanted her to. No one was to blame for unrequited love
centuries old
She
refused to cry. There was a time and place for tears and laying in
his bed after celebrating some other countries New Year was neither.
She would smile at him the next morning and play the bashful maiden,
blushing and sneaking him flirty glances. She would pray that next
time would be the time he would remain himself. She would pray she
would still want him if he did.
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