Title: A Thousand Glances and Counting
Pairing: IchigoxIshida
Rating: PG-15
Warning: Shounen-ai, kissing.
Summary: Ichigo doesn't like Ishida…right? One shot drabble
WARNING: Written back in 05'. Yah, back in the day. ; I just felt bad for having nothing on so I dug this up
He was such a fucking snob.
That's all I could think as I glared at the back of his head in class, focusing on his disgustingly perfect hair, not even one strand was out of place. I tightened my grip on the pencil in my hand.
Those glasses sat primly on his nose, and a flawless finger would push them back up thoughtlessly, restoring them to their proper position. Could he be more annoying? Just as I narrowed my eyes, dark ones glanced back at me, a thin brow arched. The pencil broke into two pieces in my grip. One end rolling all the way to Ishida's seat. Refusing to meet his eye, I glared at the blank sheet of paper that sat, neglected, on my desk. Everyone else was scrawling notes on Japanese History on their papers, carefully listening to the teacher's words. I had more important things to do. My eyes wandered, albeit hesitantly, back to Ishida.
I was so fucked in the head.
All I could concentrate on was the way he shifted his legs whenever the teacher paused in her lecture. How he twirled the pencil between his slender fingers when he was thinking. He was annoying as hell, with those sick, girly habits.
So, why couldn't I stop thinking about him?
The bell rang, and I jumped, cursing silently at my reaction. I grabbed my things and looked up. Ishida leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets with a maddening smirk on his lips. He made me sick.
No, I wasn't scared of the Quincy at all.
I approached him, a slight tremble in my step as I stared him straight in the eye, his own glinting behind those glasses in a way that couldn't have meant anything good. The smirk on his face seemed to widen, and I found myself drawn in by his thin lips, wondering how they'd taste if-
Why the fuck was I thinking about Ishida's lips?
I shook my head, and glared at him when he laughed, half wanting to slam him into the wall, and half wanting to fuck him into instead. Shit, I really was fucked in the head.
Regardless of this, I still studied him closely, as though I had to etch every detail into my head. That brow quirked again, and I ignored it, my eye twitching slightly. I noticed the curve of his ears, the hollow of his throat, the tint to those lips, and the shape of his eyes. But, I was still hungry to see more, a thousand glances wouldn't be enough until I had him myself. He breathed a chuckle and walked off, knowing I'd follow, that smug bastard. We walked down the hallways, I watched his movements closely, annoyed and still enticed. He stopped when we came to a nearly deserted area of the school, lifting an eyebrow and giving me a serious, cold look. But, something behind those glasses screamed 'mischief'.
"See something you want, Kurosaki?"
His self-confident voice was too much for me, I shoved him against the wall, his glasses falling to the floor from the forceful action. Ishida gasped slightly, and I wanted to capture the sound to keep for myself. Without thinking, I pressed my lips against his violently, and felt him respond, his body quivering under my fervent touch.
Maybe I was fucked up, but so was he.