Pairing: Uryuu Ishida x Ichigo Kurosaki
Music:All I Really Want, by Alanis Morissette
Word count: ~ 1,600
Rating: M
A/N: Ishida is a wonderfully quirky character, and I love him to bits. This takes place after Aizen escapes Soul Society the first time, and after Ichigo is on the run from Kenpachi. So, literally, a "lost scene."
Prompt 4: Lost Scene
The air felt different in Soul Society. At first, Uryuu had thought that it was the concentration of reishi in everything, and attributed the strange tingling to the fact that he wasn't used to such a high volume of spirit particles.
But then he lost his powers, and the strange feeling remained.
It had to be Soul Society affecting him. There was no other explanation for the way he found himself looking at their resident hero, the soul-reaper-who-shouldn't-have-been. Ichigo. Kurosaki, with his sunset-bright hair and fiercely determined eyes, his boundless courage and equally boundless friendship. Uryuu hated soul reapers, blamed them for everything that had gone wrong, but…
But Ichigo was not a soul reaper, nor was he at fault for the destruction of the Quincy race. Uryuu couldn't blame him any more, because of these strange feelings that Soul Society was giving him—thoughts, like how it would feel to run his fingers through that brilliant hair, or over those elegant cheekbones, or over those full, firm lips. Surely, surely, he would never have had these though normally. It had to be the influence of Soul Society.
There was, of course, no risk of Ichigo getting such thoughts, especially not about a skinny Quincy archer with too much coldness and too little bend, because Ichigo was already preoccupied with that blasted shinigami girl, the one they had come all this way to rescue. She was certainly pretty, Uryuu allowed, and polite, and well bred. Probably everything a dashing young hero wanted in a distressed damsel, and exactly everything that Uryuu was not.
Now, she was even stronger than him, so there was no hope, in any world, of catching Ichigo's eye.
Not, of course, that Uryuu wanted to. It was just the air in Soul Society, making him think strange things and act in odd ways. That was all.
With a sigh, Uryuu turned down another street and kept walking. His hands felt empty without his bow in them, even though he didn't usually hold it outside of practice and combat. Just the idea that he would never use it again was painful in a way that went beyond just the physicality of his wounds. His last strong connection with his grandfather, simply gone. He flexed his long, empty fingers, mourning the absence of reishi flowing through them, around them. How Ichigo could be so blind to something so beautiful, he had no clue.
Ah. And he was back to Ichigo again. Was there nothing the soul reaper couldn't touch?
A flurry of light footsteps brought him back to reality, and he glanced up in time to see the very subject of his thoughts sprint around the corner. Their eyes met at the same moment, and Ichigo darted to his side, clamped a hand over his mouth, and jerked him into the narrow gap between two buildings. Before Uryuu could even begin to protest, a stampede of shinigami went past, all of them waving weapons and shouting threats at nothing. They hurtled past, and a few moments later there came a tinkling of bells and the sound of bright, bubbly laughter. Uryuu frowned under Ichigo's hand, wondering—
And then a huge, scarred, hulking man—like a poorly maintained, quite muscular mountain, Uryuu thought faintly—jogged past, a pink-haired toddler clinging to his shoulder. The man was the source of the bells. The girl was the source of the laughter, as she pulled on the huge brute's hair and directed him in the opposite direction of the path that the other shinigami had taken.
Dear god, Uryuu thought in horrified wonder. No wonder Ichigo was running.
Then the monstrosity and his navigator were past their hiding place and well out of hearing, and Ichigo breathed a low, mint-and-citrus scented breath of relief, relaxing into the building as though he were about to collapse. He carefully released Uryuu.
"Sorry about that, Ishida," he murmured, and his soft tenor almost gave Uryuu the shivers, trickling up and down his spine. "But I really didn't want Kenpachi to find me."
Uryuu hardly heard the words, suddenly finding himself aware of being pressed tightly against Ichigo in the narrow space, feeling each rise and fall of his chest, each thud of his heart. He smelled like sweat, musky and hot, with an undertone of the same mint and citrus that Uryuu had smelled before. Being so close, so together, was making Uryuu weak at the knees, driving more ridiculous thoughts into his head, and he couldn't even consider not following them. So, with great care, he turned and kissed Ichigo, sliding his long, empty fingers into the sun-bright hair that had been tempting him for so long now. They suddenly didn't feel so empty before, and the tingling lack of reishi was overtaken by the tingling of blood rushing through every limb, nearly giving him the shivers.
And, miracle of all miracles, Ichigo was kissing him back.
Ichigo, for his part, had absolutely no clue what was going on, but was quite happy to go with the flow, as Ishida to know exactly what he wanted. Besides, Ichigo had been watching the beautiful archer for a very long while—ever since he had first been pointed out at school—and was more than content to follow Uryuu's lead.
Because he wasn't nearly as dense as most people seemed to think, he had been quite aware of Inoue's crush on him, and had thought that Ishida was crushing on her. Apparently not, judging from the fact that his tongue was halfway down Ichigo's throat and he was attempting to eat him from the mouth down. His hands weren't still, either, running up and down Ichigo's body, finding sensitive spots and stroking whatever bare skin they could find. Ichigo would have reciprocated, but Uryuu was overwhelming, albeit in a good way. All he could do was open his mouth, hope the wall would hold him (seeing as his knees had buckled at the first touch of lips), and hang on for the ride.
Uryuu's fingers were incredibly clever, Ichigo reflected as they dipped past his hakama-himo and into his hakama, towards what was decidedly virgin territory. Ichigo gasped into his mouth, feeling his legs give way even more as he struggled to return the favor, a curse at the Quincy's tight pants tumbling unheeded from his lips. Finally, finally, his hand closed around hot flesh, dragging upward as he attempted to recall what he himself liked as Uryuu systematically destroyed his brain cells by moving his fingers in just that way, causing pleasure to shoot up his spine like Kukaku's fireworks. He tightened his grip involuntarily and Uryuu cried out, something wet and hot and sticky spilling out over his palm.
The Quincy slumped against him, but even then his fingers didn't stop, one hand worming down the back of Ichigo's hakama, rubbing ever so lightly over his entrance, and Ichigo suddenly felt like one vast bundle of nerves wound far too tight. He cried out into Uryuu's mouth as he came, trembling from the rush. As the shudders faded, he slumped back against the wall, dropping his head against the wood with a shaky sigh. They slid to the ground together, somehow managing to mash their limbs into enough awkward angles to be able to sit in the narrow space.
After a long several minutes, Uryuu raised his head and pushed his glasses back up his nose. It would have been a more impressive gesture if his hand hadn't been shaking, too.
"Well," he said.
"Well," Ichigo agreed with amusement, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
Uryuu arched an eyebrow at him. "If you start acting like a lovesick fool, Kurosaki, consider this relationship over."
He hesitated to ask, but his courage, which had never let him back down before, had him blurting out, "You want it to be a relationship?"
Uryuu stared at him.
Ichigo braved a smile and stole another kiss.
"It's the air here," Uryuu muttered darkly as they came up for air. "That's all it is. Once we're home, it will go back to normal."
Letting himself be drawn into another kiss, Ichigo wondered whether he should tell the archer that he really had no intention of letting him go.