A Man of Aesthetics
No matter how one looked at it, Kurosaki Ichigo was a man of aesthetics. His world had to be 'beautiful'- whether that beauty was internal, external, or both, Kurosaki Ichigo always seemed to be surrounded by it. Fortunately for him, those who stayed closest to him were beautiful on both fronts. And even more fortunately for those that followed him, Kurosaki Ichigo was 'beautiful' on all fronts.
It was his hands. It was odd, perhaps, but they were the first and most alluring thing that he'd noticed about him. They still were.
Ichigo hadn't noticed much about Abarai Renji at their first meeting- the man had been insulting him and trying to kill him at the time. The second time they met (within Seireitei) he'd really only noticed the man's power. After all, there were (as the worst case scenario) still eleven lieutenants and thirteen captains ahead of him as he fought his way to Rukia. At the time, Renji had been but a stepping stone, a marker for his own power.
It hadn't been within his first visit to Soul Society. It hadn't happened during the struggle with Baishin, the Bounto, or Amagai taichou. Kurosaki Ichigo had been completely oblivious to the aesthetics of Abarai Renji until they encountered the arrancar.
But standing next to the man's bedside as he recovered from his fight with the arrancar, he couldn't help but notice how thin Renji's fingers were, how delicate his hands looked, despite his strength. The bed sheets covered him to his waist, his torso and parts of his arms were wrapped in white bandages but left nothing to Ichigo's imagination regarding Renji's physique.
He possessed a rather slender neck, a thin face, a narrow nose. His ribcage was narrow, his waist thin, and his hips slender. Despite his towering height and his assuredly masculine appearance, everything about Abarai Renji was narrow, thin, slender- deceptively delicate. Even Byakuya, with his feminine face, and hair, and attitude had a more manly physique than Renji.
Ichigo's own fingers may not have been as long, but they were certainly larger and more masculine looking than Renji's (perhaps due to the fact that he wielded a heavy broadsword rather than a normal Zanpaktou like the red head). He noticed that his wrists and forearms were as delicate looking as his hands. They weren't feminine, he noted, nor were they too short or too small for the rest of his body, but they were petite and elegant.
And that's when he noticed that Abarai Renji was, overall, beautiful.
Renji was very tall, his shoulders were broad, well muscled, and masculine, but he was still thin and in no way bulky or excessively sculpted. The red head was all lithe muscle and sinew and light, well defined bone. It rather looked like his skeleton wanted to break through his skin. The bones that protruded from his tanned skin looked delicate enough to have belonged to a bird and Ichigo wondered why Renji's bankai wasn't more related to a creature of the air. Despite his cumbersome looking Bankai Renji was surprisingly light on his feet, when he wanted to be. He would never match himself or Byakuya, but he was still rather agile.
The moment Kurosaki Ichigo noticed the beauty and hidden grace that was Abarai Renji he knew he was lost. He couldn't help but stare at every opportune moment. After that, Ichigo couldn't stop thinking about the redhead. Suddenly, it seemed that Renji was everywhere. Suddenly, Renji was always around, whether he was visiting the living world or Ichigo was visiting Soul Society. The daiko could neither mentally nor physically escape the fuku-taichou. Not that he was really sure he wanted to escape, that is. He came to relish every one of his visits to the Seireitei and each of the bright, redhead's visits to the real world.
He wished only that he could trust himself to house Renji. He was fairly certain that if Renji was allowed to rest in his house each night that, sooner or later, he would jump the taller male. Ichigo was already on the brink. He couldn't chance having the man around himself in such a vulnerable. After all, his parents had raised him to be chivalrous and gentlemanly, but damn if Renji didn't test his self-control.
It quickly became apparent to Ichigo, and a few perceptive others, that he was falling fast for the tall, brash Shinigami. Urahara, Yoroichi, and Rukia teased him about this fact mercilessly. He appreciated his friends' support, but he wished it didn't come at the cost of songs about kissing in trees. He was even more grateful that everyone else who had noticed his burgeoning feelings had been, generally, silent in their support. Ichigo may have had an aneurism if Byakuya had offered more than a pointed look and a raised eyebrow the last time he had visited the 6th division.
The only person who seemed oblivious to Ichigo's affections, as it often happens, was the object of said affections. By the time Ichigo had realized his feelings for Renji he was on the path of ultimate power to match the would-be god, Aizen. There hadn't been time for thoughts of romance. Then he'd lost his Shinigami powers and his crush seemed forever beyond his reach, so he'd pushed into a corner of his mind.
Regaining his powers and defeating Ginjou Kuugo had taken up most of his attention at the time, but he still spared a moment to take the new, stronger Renji in. Ichigo couldn't help but think that so much strength and determination looked very good on the older male. He had only that moment to spare before he'd been pulled into a blur of battle and revelations. 'Just like old times,' he thought as Ginjou taunted him. The battle ended quickly and then Ichigo had only to make his stance as Shinigami daiko clear Seireitei and his life was back on track.
After 17 months of shiftless-ness he had a purpose again, he could be a protector again. After 17 months of secretly pining for all he'd lost along with his Shinigami powers he decided his life was too unpredictable for him to continue as he had. It was time to tell Renji how he felt or forever hold his peace. Ichigo was nothing if not a man of action. He wasn't sure his affections would be returned, but the possibility of rejection was worth the chance to hold hands with the redhead, like he'd wanted to since he'd first noticed their beauty.