I'm having some writer's block for my story: Recovery. Just a one-shot to get my mind back into a swing or whatever. A rushed fic. I normally don't do yaoi, but I can't help but think IchiIshi is kinda cute. I still completely support IchiRuki and IshiHime, just maybe the two boys could have a fling once in a while?Partially inspired by T.a.t.u's 'Craving'. Anyways, I don't own Bleach and all that jazz. If I did, the Lust chapters would actually have paid attention to the brave and bleeding Ishida.
Warning: If you can't handle some more serious situations, then I suggest you don't read anything. NO SEX, but a little close. I don't know why'd you need a warning on a yaoi fic. Everyone knows what they contain.
Of all things, it had to be a school trip. School trips were like the ideal opportunities for students to embrace their romantic sides and confess their love. So why? It wasn't like Kurosaki Ichigo planned on it. Thank god Rukia wasn't here, he thought to himself. She'd never let him live it down if she saw him staring at a guy a few seats ahead and across from him on the bus. Why did he have to come of all times?
It wasn't like Ishida to suddenly decide to show up on a school function. He was also on good terms with Ms. Ochi and so he could have stayed home and gotten away with it. Damn, stupid Ishida. Ichigo couldn't stay mad for long. He wanted Ishida to come, to hang out with, but it didn't want anyone to know of his secret thoughts and desires of the Quincy.
Ishida was leaning against the seat in less than comfort, reading as usual. Ichigo watched as his pale hands turned another page. The bastard even made that graceful and elegant. Ishida's peering blue eyes turned to where Ichigo was sitting. His expression morphed from calm to confused. He pushed up his glasses, glaring at the Substitute Shinigami in disgust before returning back to his book.
Ichigo scoffed and looked out the window he was seated next. A poke in his side jumped him nearly off his seat. Keigo Asano blinked a couple times before clapping his hands in glee. "Can you wait, Ichigo?"
"For what?" The orange-headed boy asked. Keigo glanced back at Mizuiro Kojima as if to search for a reply. He jabbed at Ichigo's head and scowled, imitating him.
"What do ya mean? For the food, the atmosphere, the women!" He exclaimed. Ichigo turned back to the window.
"I don't care." He waved a hand to shoo away the pest. Keigo cocked his head to a side. His eyes narrowed into the more mature Asano Keigo. His face grew closer to his friend.
"Hey, what's with you?" He folded his arms. "You've been pretty out of it." Mizuiro stood up and looked over the seat to Ichigo.
"Ishida too. Are you guys fighting?" Ichigo felt every muscle in his body tense as the bespectacled boy's name was mentioned. His shook his head.
"No. What gave you that idea?" Keigo and Mizuiro sighed and looked to one another.
"I don't know, maybe it's been all the creepy stares." Keigo said, shrugging. "You look at him, he looks at you, then you guys both give each other evil stares and look away." Mizuiro nodded.
"You sure nothing happened?"
"Positive. I can't stand him anyways, so that's nothing new." Ichigo said, finding himself pissed that Keigo was being surprising observant. "Not my fault I can feel him stare at me and I give him a nasty scowl back." Mizuiro disappeared behind the seat as well as Keigo.
As sure as he was sure Keigo wasn't watching his eyes wandered back to Ishida. He was no longer reading, but staring out the window. His reflection appeared...sad. He looked absolutely miserable and somehow that pained Ichigo too. The bus came to a halt and Ms. Ochi waved her trademark attendance notebook around.
"Alright, you all know where to go! And don't let me catch boys and girls mixing in each others halls!" Ichigo stood, grabbing his bag from above. When he turned, Ishida was already gone, as well as most of the students. With his bag in hand he headed off the vehicle only to have a paper shoved in his face. Ms. Ochi smiled and stalked off leaving him to stand there alone. He turned his attention to the paper, most likely with his room number.
When Ichigo arrived at the old fashioned Japanese style inn's room for him, he gaped. There, standing in his assigned room was the one person he hoped he could avoid, Ishida Uryu. The other boy continued to unpack his neat clothing, seemingly uninterested in his roommate. Ichigo walked to the other side of the room, unpacking his own articles. The silence was killing him. He kept opening his mouth and ready to speak, if it weren't for the fact that he felt like his voice wasn't gone completely.
"So, do you know where we have to go first?" Ichigo started. His mouth felt dry as if he hadn't had a drink in nearly forever. The Quincy continued to fold his clothes and not so much as turn to the other person in the room. He huffed as he smoothed a shirt.
"Are you that stupid, Kurosaki? In normal school trips, the first things to do is to unpack and roll call." He pushed up his glasses in that 'I'm-better-than-you' attitude he was so damn good at.
"Oh." Ichigo responded simply. The reply must have caught Ishida off guard a little, as he swung to peer at him. With no other words spoken, he left the room. As he closed the door behind him, he sighed with relief and worry. It wasn't like Kurosaki to end a conversation with him so abruptly. Usually when he poked fun of his lack of intelligence or common sense, the orange-haired boy would poke right back. Ishida looked down. Worry was not a quality he carried often. Maybe someone like Inoue-san who seemed to need it, or Sado-kun since he didn't speak what was wrong period. But someone like Kurosaki, who blurted out everything...Ishida found it odd that he was in a never ending cycle of thoughts of the Shinigami. That was it, he needed some fresh air.
Ichigo waited some ten minutes before he left also. Part of him wanted to find Ishida and part of him wanted to beat the crap out of him. How could someone be so interested in one, then hate them the next. Rukia might have been an exception, since she was a girl. And girls and boys had those sorts of relationships since they never saw eye-to-eye. He found himself wandering in a garden located behind the inn. It was lonely and deserted, most likely due to it being dinner time. As he spun to leave, he caught sight of a figure standing on the garden's bridge, staring at the reflection of the moon on the pond's surface.
Ichigo just stood there and watched him. It was all he could do. There was no word for how he felt at that moment. Ishida's hair was glistening in the moonlight and his pale skin almost appeared as if it glowed. To Ichigo, Ishida looked like a godly being. Irresistible and untouchable. The Quincy's fingers were laced together in thought, and Ichigo couldn't help but to wonder what he was thinking about. No, he wanted to know, it ached at him to know.
"Ya know, dinner's probably waiting for us." Ichigo had never seen Ishida looked shocked until now. The Quincy was off the bridge and around Ichigo so fast, Ichigo didn't even think he had seen him move.
"I'm not hungry." Ichigo sighed in disbelief.
"Bullshit you aren't. We were on a bus ride for hours. Damn, I'm starving."
"Then go eat. I'm not hungry." Ishida claimed again, pushing past him. Ichigo grabbed his slim wrist. That alone made Ichigo itch inside in so many ways. It was so smooth and perfect. Ishida's pulling snapped him from his imagining. "Kurosaki, let go."
"Not 'til you go eat something. No wonder you're so damn skinny." Ishida's glare was making him second his kindness. He could let go and forget all about the damn bastard, or he could be persistent and follow through.
"I'm thin because of my family's genetics, Kurosaki." He pulled on his wrist more, with each pull Ichigo's grip growing tighter.
"Then I won't eat 'til you do." Ishida's face seemed to flush.
"Don't be stupid, Kurosaki. Why do you care if I eat? It's my body." He pulled weakly once more. "You never cared before." Ichigo was so distracted by Ishida's sudden statement, his grip loosened by tremendous amounts, allowing Ishida to escape and head back to their room. Ichigo growled and went to dinner anyways, yelled at by Ms. Ochi and questioned by Keigo and Mizuiro. But even with all the talking, his mind still thought of Ishida in the garden. He bit his lip as much more provocative imaginings came to mind. He stuffed more of the rice in his bowl in his mouth, hoping food would take his thoughts elsewhere. It didn't.
Ichigo found himself comparing all the food on his plate to Ishida's anatomy. The rice was his pale and seemingly lifeless skin, the yakisoba(1), which was fried noodles with many different vegetables was like Ishida's soul, full of flavor and mystery. Especially this yakisoba since Ichigo wasn't sure what was exactly in it. He exhaled pondering on how extremely pathetic he was being. He pushed his food aside, no longer hungry and returned to his room.
At the wrong moment it seemed.
Ishida was in the midst of changing into a traditional nemaki(2) for sleeping. The room was dark, but the shoji doors that faced the garden let enough light through so Ichigo could see details of Ishida's form.
If Ichigo thought Ishida looked like a god's image in the garden, he wasn't sure what to call him now. Ishida's chest was slender yes, but it had lean muscles, testament that the boy exercised a lot. A Quincy-like pentacle adorned his chest and created the illusion that it was shimmering as well. Realizing he was staring, Ichigo twisted to face his back to the shirtless boy.
"What? Never seen another man's chest?" Ishida said sorrowfully. He solemnly sat down on his already set futon. "I didn't know you were that bothered by it." Ichigo turned around.
"I'm not." He grabbed his own nemaki on his folded futon. The pattern he had to admit was less than extraordinary. But nemaki were never meant to be beautiful, only to sleep in. Somehow though, Ishida made his look good. It was a dark blue with silver koi and waves embroidered on it, the colors befitting the pale person extremely well. As Ichigo changed in the dark, he tried to think of other things. Such as Rukia. How was she?
But his mind would eventually wander to the Quincy across the room. That delicate and fragile skin made him want to do crazy things just to touch it. Ichigo wouldn't have minded running his rough scarred hands over the feeble surface. To hear Ishida moan in pleasure and beg for more. Ichigo only realized he was beginning to fantasize more sexual dreams when down south on his body reminded him. Ichigo heaved a big irritated sigh in frustration. The nemaki obviously weren't very proficient in keeping things like that secret. Good thing it was mostly dark.
Ichigo quickly laid his own futon out and pulled it's thick blanket over himself. He was about to lay down, when he noticed Ishida hadn't laid down to sleep. He had continued to stare at the shoji in silence. Ishida looked lost in thought about many things and upset about all of them. Ichigo didn't have the guts to really ask what was on his friend's mind, and he was sure he wouldn't find out even he asked.
Still, the words came out anyways. "You okay? You seem down 'bout something." His mouth felt numb and it remained parted as if he was still going to say something else. Ishida never turned to him. His eyes closed as if he had never even heard Ichigo talk in the first place.
"I'm fine." He pulled his glasses off his face. Ichigo silently gulped. He had never caught Ishida without his spectacles. Now he manifested vulnerability and frailness. Ichigo kept gaping at him in amazement and wonder. With every flicker of his eyes to another feature of Ishida's, he could feel himself needing to relieve himself more and more. "You seem...down too, Kurosaki."
So suddenly it bugged Ichigo they called each by their surnames. He clutched the blanket. Just once he'd like to hear Ishida say 'Ichigo'. And for Ichigo to call him 'Uryu'. That was it. He knew if he didn't do anything, he was going to explode. "I'm good." Was all he could muster up to say. Ishida's eyebrows furrowed. His deep blue eyes looked a little unfocused, but he somehow found Ichigo's eyes and peered into them.
"Are you sure?" There was a slight hint of concern, but was automatically masked by Ishida's normal nonchalant tone. "You don't look it."
"It's just...I-" Ichigo started to confess. As long as he made it vague it would maybe help some of this heavy pressure on him. "I like someone." Ishida gawked at him in surprise, not sure what to think. Ichigo felt just as odd. "It's just killing me, that's all."
Ishida's eyes suddenly found more interest in his hands resting on his lap. "Why don't you tell her?" Shit, he didn't ever want to say that. Ishida kept fiddling with his fingers. "I don't know what you expect me to do about it." He said, somewhat distastefully.
"About that..."
"If it's about Inoue-san, I don't care you know. It's not like I like her like that or anything. I don't think I ever could. Never. I'm too odd like that. I'm always different..." Ishida rambled, his voice quivering more with each word. "Too...different..."
Ishida's face had dissappeared from sight. His head now rested on his knees. "I'm sorry. I'm never like this. It must be this horrible atmosphere. I shouldn't have come along." He muttered to himself. A hand rested on his shoulder. He glanced up in surprise to see Ichigo kneeling next him.
"What are ya sorry for? Idiot, thinking your the only one different. Trust me, you have no idea." Ishida gulped and fixed his disheveled hair from his face.
"So who is she?"
"Um...I prefer not think of it as a girl..."
"It's a guy?!" Ishida exclaimed. His face reddened. Oh Kami-sama, it was too cute.
"Yeah..." Ichigo was now blushing. His hand was still placed on Ishida's thin shoulder. Maybe if he slipped it slightly, he could slide the nemaki a bit off his shoulder.
"So then, who is it?"
"What? Um...I would like not to say it, Ishida. You know." Ishida's face looked a little disheartened.
"Oh, I thought I was on a roll with you or something, Kurosaki."
"What do ya mean by that? I'd be the one waiting for that! Ishida, you tell me shit. At least I come out and say it!" Ishida glared back defiantly, his eyes much more prominent without the glasses hiding his emotions.
"Really? Then why won't you tell me?"
"You really want me to? It'll disturb you ya know, Ishida!" Ichigo yelled back at him. Ishida flinched then let out a long breath.
"Just tell me, Kurosaki."
"Fine. It's you." Ishida's face couldn't have been more red, though it seemed to have developed a new shade all together.
"E-excuse me?"
Ichigo grabbed both shoulders with his hands, pulling him closer to him. "I. Said. It's. You. That. I. Like." Ishida stared at him dazed and at a loss expression. His ashen lips parted before tightening into a thin line that was barely visible. Ichigo found himself getting even closer to Ishida. There were no protests, no 'Stop, Kurosaki''s, so Ichigo progressed further. He could feel Ishida's fast breathing, their lips brushed one anothers. So soft, Ichigo perceived. Ishida groaned from what Ichigo guessed was a complaint in his stopping.
He pressed his lips onto the others. Ishida melted underneath Ichigo's grasp, letting him hold him more comfortably. Ichigo found it almost impossible to hold back now. He pushed himself onto the submissive boy to the futon, his kisses becoming faster more passionate. Ishida wasn't half bad either. He made sure Ichigo kept at it, wrapping his tongue around Ichigo's if the Shinigami shifted as if he was going to move away. Unfortunately for the Quincy, this only aroused Ichigo even more. Ishida's leg found itself wrapped around one of Ichigo's.
Ishida's nemaki was coming open. Ichigo used his teeth to tear at the fabric enough to let him accomplish in seeing Ishida's chest once more. He grazed his lips against Ishida's tingling and sensitive skin. His tongue encased around one of his nipples that immediately went hard on contact. Ishida's back arched and he cried out in ecstasy. He was silenced by Ichigo's mouth against his own. Ichigo pulled away.
"I feel better, thanks Ishida." He exhaled. His breathing was still fast and uneven, but nothing compared to the half naked body below him. Ishida' s hair was in so many different directions and his face and chest was covered in tiny sweat drops.
"Shut up and come on, Ichigo." Ishida said, straining to urge the other to lower himself. Ichigo's mouth formed into a grin.
"Alright, Uryu."
(1) Yakisoba-fried or deep fried Chinese style noodles served with vegetables, meat, and ginger.
(2) Nemaki-a gauze lined kimono or yukata for sleeping. Some I've seen are plain white, while others have more intricate designs.
Really short, but it was only to cure my writer's block. I think it might have worked. Either that, or it made me want to add more IchiIshi scenes. I've never written a yaoi fic before, so I'm still not sure what to think of it. I know, I know. I started to get graphic, but stopped. I felt that was best. I'll let your imaginations wander. Ugh...still not sure if I could've done better.