Title: Keigo's Awesome Seaside Vacation
Rating: NC-17
Status: Complete
Pairing: Kurosaki Ichigo & Ishida Uryuu
Warnings: UST, language, underage drinking, m/m sex, a poorly-written action scene
Summary: Another school break rolls around and Keigo is determined to make everyone enjoy it at the beach with him. Although he didn't exactly have the elicit union of a couple of argumentative teenagers in mind.
AN: Just a little sand and surf and angsty romance. I say 'little' but this thing somehow turned into a wordy beast! Soundtrack for this story is 'The Island Pt I: Dawn' and 'The Island Pt II: Dusk', both by Pendulum.
"Ichiiiigoooo~" bellows Keigo from across the room. "Good morning!"
Ichigo sits quietly at his desk reading before homeroom begins, as usual, when Keigo decides to hurl himself excitedly in his general direction. With a practiced one-handed swipe, he intercepts the lunge mid-air without looking away from his novel. He doesn't feel guilty when Keigo whines about being knocked into a by-standing classmate because this happens at least once a week. His classmates should know by now to get out of Keigo's deflection-radius when he gets excited. Ichigo also doesn't bother listening to the spiel he launches into once he recovers until he hears the words beach party.
"Why would I ever go to one of your parties again," Ichigo demands, finally sparing the man a glance, "When the last one was so awful?"
"It was not awful!"
"It kind of was," Mizuiro agrees, walking up to join their chat with Chad following. "Since we ran out of food, got lost in the woods, and then we were chased by a pack of skunks."
"Mm," Chad confirms.
"Shut up both of you!" he shrieks with pointing fingers. "None of that was my fault. Besides, this time will be different because it's at my grandparent's beach house—which is stocked with all kinds of food—and it will be epic! So you should all come."
"I'll go if Tatsuki-chan can go!" Inoue interjects, peering around Chad's massive form. "If it's not one of those no-girls-allowed kinds of parties?"
"Absolutely, you can both come," Keigo beams, pumping his fist into the air. "More the merrier!"
"I'll go if 'Hime-chan is going," says Chizuru.
"I'll go if Sado-kun goes," Mizuiro concedes, sensing the trend.
"Ichigo?" Chad succinctly requests.
At this point, Ichigo is the last link in a long chain of keyed-up teenagers gearing up to party at the beach together over one of their very last breaks as high school students. The last thing he wants is to waste it on another of Keigo's infamously bad parties and he doesn't understand what the rest of them are thinking. They should know better. Plus, with Rukia and Renji currently on assignment in Soul Society, it's pretty much up to him to make sure any non-human threats get vanquished before they cause problems in Karakura. Yet, since he can't exactly explain all of this without feeling like a wet blanket, Ichigo hesitates to decline. Instead, he thinks of Ishida. If there's one person in this entire class who will never take part in any of Keigo's social gatherings, it's that guy.
"I'll go if Ishida goes."
As one, the collective group stares at Ichigo for a long moment. It occurs to him then, what the implication of this condition means. Everyone else had to make sure their closest friend would be along for the ride, and then Ichigo picks the one person in the entire school who he has consistently been on 'rival' terms with since they met.
"What!? Why Ishida? That is the very last person you want to invite to a beach party, Ichigo!" he doesn't hesitate to whine, seeing his elaborate plans dissolving before his eyes. Keigo may be the only one vocalizing it, but he can sense these thoughts from the rest of his friends, too. "Who would want to hang out with that weirdo, pale, glasses-glaring freak—"
"Take it or leave it."
Keigo closes his mouth and nods stoically. Then he straightens into a grim stance typically reserved for the firing squad and marches right over to the man on the other side of the classroom. Everyone watches in tense silence as Ishida looks up from his book and regards Keigo levelly. A handful of strained seconds later, several people flinch at his curt answer, reverberating across the room like ominous thunder.
"I refuse."
Ichigo bites back a smirk as Keigo launches into a screechy, offended diatribe. There's no way he'll win Ishida over; Ichigo is in the clear! He's so confident of his maneuver that he tunes everyone out and goes back to reading his novel. But Keigo is not easily dissuaded. He continues to harangue, plead, and barter with Ishida for nearly five minutes.
Eventually, Ichigo hears a tell-tale sigh and Ishida snaps, "Fine."
He whips his head around to regard the young Quincy in disbelief. Did he just hear what he thought he did? Keigo comes trotting back over with an ear-splitting grin that makes Ichigo cringe. He gives everyone a double thumbs-up and a chorus of cheering covers Ichigo's low curse. Though it sucks that he has to go, Ichigo is immensely curious at what Keigo had to offer to get that elusive consent. Opening his mouth to ask, Ichigo is interrupted by their teacher entering the room to begin class.
After lunch, Ichigo waits until everyone else has left and headed back to class, packing his things very slowly. Japan's slowest eater, Ishida, is still nibbling the last of his melon bread when Ichigo walks over to him. He doesn't acknowledge Ichigo even when his name is called. On cue, his hackles instinctively raise at this treatment. But he knows ignoring people is one of Ishida's favorite hobbies, so he shrugs it off in favor of sating his curiosity.
"Hey, why did you agree to go to the beach party?"
"Because you didn't want me to," Ishida levelly shares as he noisily crumples his food packaging into a tight ball. He folds the wad into his pants pocket as he stands and faces Ichigo only long enough to finish his explanation. "I deduced that the only reason Asano would ever invite me to one of his ghastly soirees is if you asked him to do so. The only way you would ever ask him to do so is if you secretly wished to abstain without upsetting your friends. Since the easiest way to escape that eventuality would be to make your participation contingent upon mine, you hinged your freedom upon my refusal. A clever—if cowardly—solution, Kurosaki, I admit. Though you failed to take into account my perpetual hatred for you and my pervading desire to see you suffer at any possible opportunity. Thus, my acceptance."
While Ichigo is still reeling from that dastardly monologue, Ishida slips past him and strides down the stairs. He clenches his teeth and a fist as he reigns in his irritation. It's true he and Ishida have never seen eye-to-eye on just about anything outside of fighting for Karakura but it seems like Ishida has been steadily becoming more malevolent towards him all year. Though mostly in subtle, overlookable ways. A series of passive-aggressive and occasionally outright spiteful comments have been building since the beginning of their final year. Teasing and sarcasm were common between them, as any student here could attest, but this is different. He has wondered about it but Ichigo is not exactly the type to play peacemaker where ignoring the problem will still work.
Now he isn't so sure it will. It used to be that when Ishida said he hated him, it was just an empty remark, a front he liked to put up for the sake of his pride. The word has acquired a bit more solidity lately. As have the dark looks Ishida tends to launch at him like devious arrows.
Ichigo spends the rest of the day taking turns glaring at Ishida and Keigo for putting him into a foul mood. He debates using his argument with Ishida as an excuse to bail out of the trip, but Ishida's dig about him being cowardly has him bristling. No, better he go along and make sure Ishida has a horrible time and regrets messing with Ichigo like this. Yeah, Ishida can shove his self-righteous indignation right up his ass! The thought makes him smile. As if sensing his shift in mood, Ishida glances back at him then and scowls.
Bags packed the night before, Ichigo drags them out to Keigo's mom's van waiting outside of his house. He takes a moment to hug his sisters goodbye and promise to be back in one piece in a week. Then he dodges his dad's lunge and greets his waiting friends. He is the last stop and the only seat remaining is beside Ishida and Chizuru in the very back. Of course Ishida frowns and mutters about being squished in the middle, inducing a spontaneous rush of yesterday's annoyance in Ichigo's previously serene state of mind. Already he begins plotting things he can do to piss the archer off.
Then he notices he's already being bugged by Chizuru. She is smirking slyly and tracing a hand up his leg from the knee. For his part, Ishida is doing his best to ignore her. He watches Ishida's eye twitch behind his glasses as her fingers make contact with his inseam. They keep going. Snapping his novel shut, Ishida finally brushes her hand away.
"I would greatly appreciate it if you would refrain from touching me," he tells her in an even tone without looking at her.
"Why should I do that?"
"Because your advances are unfounded and pointless."
"Huh?"
"He means he's not interested and he knows you aren't either," Ichigo translates, used to Ishida's weird speech patterns. "Why are you hitting on him anyway? I thought you were in love with Inoue."
"I'm not hitting on him," Chizuru replies, continuing her torture. "I'm just bored. If I was hitting on him, I'd do this!"
She zips out a hand and goes straight for Ishida's crotch, but his reflexes snatch the hand out of the air before she can do any damage.
"Kurosaki, trade me seats."
Ichigo thinks that over. He has a better idea.
"Hey, Chizuru, did you know that Ishida's really ticklish?"
Grinning at the way Ishida's head snaps around in shock, Ichigo gleefully watches as a fierce look creeps into Chizuru's eyes.
"Reeeeeally?"
"Now, wait a second," Ishida sternly warns, raising hands to guard against her impending attack. "Kurosaki is lying. I am not the least bit ticklish."
"No?"
"No. How would he know, anyway?"
"Hey, yeah," she pauses in her advance to say. "Ichigo, how would you know?"
At this point, he can see his plan backfiring. The only way he can think to get himself out of this is to talk, fast. So he says the first thing that pops into his head.
"Because I, uh…" Tatsuki and Inoue tune into the discussion from the seat in front of them. Ichigo swallows and blurts, "Because I've tickled him before, obviously!"
Four pairs of eyes lock onto him and Ichigo feels his face heat.
"Why would you tickle Ishida-kun?" Inoue innocently voices in blatant confusion. "Did he ask you to?"
"Yeah!"
"Absolutely not!" Ishida barks at the same time.
"Well, which is it?" Tatsuki demands, eyeing the both of them. If anyone has a fully-functional bullshit-sniffer, it's Tatsuki.
"He did. If I'm lying, then this won't work."
With a leap of faith, Ichigo twists in his seat and attacks while Ishida's guard is down. He goes for the sensitive sides first, dodging Ishida's sloppy blocking. The man gasps once, shakes beneath his fingers, and then releases a trilling torrent of strained chuckles that shocks the hell out of everyone in the vehicle. Everyone simultaneously realizes that they've never heard Ishida actually laugh before. It's a pleasant sound.
Encouraged by this success, Ichigo migrates to more ticklish areas like armpits and the back of his neck. Soon all three girls are giggling with him. Ishida is rendered effectively helpless and gives up trying to resist after a minute. Smiling, Ichigo continues until Ishida becomes too breathless to laugh properly. His eyes are shut, lashes shady slashes across his cheekbones, and his bright teeth show in a giddy curl of flushed lips. Ishida's hair is splayed across his face in a messy wash from shaking it back and forth. Ichigo lets up then and marvels at the rare sight of Ishida so open and normal.
Then it all comes crashing down. Ishida regains his breath, sobers up, and turns the evilest glare on Ichigo. Luckily, the girls are too busy wiping amused tears from their eyes to see it before it's gone. But Ichigo saw it, clear as day. A promise for retribution for this indiscretion. He has seen some scary shit in his time, but Ishida's cold blue stare is about as terrifying as foreboding gets.
He clears his throat and as a sense of normalcy returns to the group. Tatsuki and Inoue go back to their conversation with Chad and Chizuru starts texting. Ishida merely opens his book and ignores them all for the rest of the ride. For his part, Ichigo pretends to read while trying not to picture how Ishida will get back at him later.
"Heeeere we aaaare," Keigo sing-songs as they pull up to a two-story house bordered by trees on one side, sand on the other. They pile out of the van and take turns grabbing their bags and walking over to ogle the ocean view. They follow Keigo into the house and tune out his practiced blurb about his grandparents' lovely home in favor of viewing it for themselves. Inoue darts around to examine an old teapot, then to a mounted moose-head, then to a pair of crossed snow-shoes on the wall. Tatsuki tests the sturdiness of a chair before sinking into it. Chad nods at the fireplace in approval. Mizuiro checks the kitchen's stock and makes a grocery list on his phone. Chizuru glomps Inoue and joins in her excitement. Ishida wanders upstairs by himself.
After a few minutes, they begin claiming roommates. Tatsuki grabs Inoue and drags her upstairs before Chizuru can get her claws on the oblivious redhead. Mizuiro caves to Keigo's begging and agrees to share a room. Before he knows what happened, Ichigo is witnessing the unlikely union of Chad and Chizuru.
"Wait," Ichigo calls to Chad before they disappear down the hall. "Why are you rooming with Chizuru?"
"You saw how angry Ishida got sitting beside her in the car," he shrugs a sleeveless shoulder. "He'd be miserable if he had to room with her all week."
"But…"
Ichigo doesn't mention the fact that Ishida probably hates him more than her at the moment. That he'd probably even pay Chad to room with him instead and—for that matter, why wouldn't Chad just room with Ishida? Unless he knows that Ichigo would be miserable with that ADHD psycho, too.
Feeling a jolt of affection for the taller man, Ichigo grabs his bag and finds the room with an agitated Quincy lurking inside it. He is lying on a twin bed and staring up at the oscillating ceiling fan when Ichigo walks in. His hands rest folded over the starched white shirt covering his belly. He takes one look at Ichigo standing in the door frame and lets out a tired sigh.
"Figures."
"That's what you get for being an anti-social dork instead of asking Chad to room with you."
"This weekend will go by much faster if you and I refrain from speaking, Kurosaki," he mutters. "Perhaps you might even enjoy your holiday."
"How can I enjoy anything when one of my friends won't stop glaring at me behind my back?"
"Which friend would that be?"
Again, his denial of being friends is clear. He has been doing this a lot lately, too. And Ichigo thought they had gotten past that whole 'frienemies' thing long ago. With a flippant snort, Ichigo tosses his bag onto the opposite bed and begins unpacking. Several tense minutes pass before either of them speaks. Ichigo's anger only worsens with the silence until he feels like forcing something.
"Aren't you going to thank me?"
"For what? Deigning to keep silent for more than a handful of seconds?"
"For rooming with you instead of letting Chizuru have you," he grits against the insult.
"We both know that was Sado-kun's kindness. I intend to thank him later," Ishida calmly states. He sits up and swings his legs off the bed to face Ichigo now, probably gearing up for another fight. "Besides, I would prefer Honshou's company to yours any day."
"Yeah? Then why don't you go room with her instead?"
"I'm already unpacked."
"Well, maybe I'll trade with her, then."
"By all means."
"Maybe I will."
"Maybe you should," Ishida says as he stands and crosses his arms over his chest.
"Yeah?" Ichigo challenges, also standing and returning the bitter stare. "I don't feel like it."
Despite feeling childish for this little spat, Ichigo holds his ground. They face-off until Keigo appears in the doorway to tell them they're about to start cooking dinner. Then Ichigo huffs and shakes it off. Let Ishida act like a spoiled brat if he wants to. It's none of his concern. He's not going to waste his vacation arguing with a jerk like him anyway.
As soon as Keigo is done ogling them in confusion and leaves, Ishida strips off his shirt and Ichigo is momentarily awestruck at the sight of his five-branched scar. Since they've never had gym together, Ichigo hasn't had the chance to see Ishida shirtless since that time he lost most of it in battle. It's faded enough to be only a subtle variation in skin tone though still visible. Not for the first time, it makes him think of Ishida's strained relationship with his father. Or what little he knows about it, anyway.
He is pulled from his musings when Ishida proceeds to go straight for his belt buckle.
"Whoa!" Ichigo cries as he jerks forward to shut the door. "What are you doing, Ishida?"
"Going swimming," he says at the floor, dropping his pants to reveal teal swim-trunks. "What did you think I was doing, Kurosaki? And why did you shut the door?"
"Uh…"
This time the look they share is more awkward than malicious. Ichigo doesn't know why his instinctive response to Ishida stripping in front of him was to close the door. So he doesn't say anything. Ishida shrugs it off and grabs his beach towel.
"Move."
"Why are you swimming? Keigo said the food's almost ready."
"None of your business, Kurosaki. Now get out of my way before I move you."
He can feel a simmering rage rolling off Ishida and it makes him want to do whatever he says, but it also makes him want to pester the man even more. The reason he's running off instead of eating with everyone must be to get away from Ichigo, which is just insulting. Plus, something about the way he would just whip off his clothes without warning like that has Ichigo strangely intrigued by this weird mood Ishida has fallen into. It's kind of like watching a train wreck in gruesome progress.
"Maybe I want to go for a swim, too."
In response to this, Ishida rolls his eyes and gives Ichigo a hearty shove to his left shoulder before exiting the room. He lets himself be pushed but only because he needs to grab his swimsuit before he can follow him anyway. Changing swiftly, Ichigo rushes downstairs and out the back door with a quick wave to his friends on the way.
Outside, the sky is darkening not quite with dusk but with a broad approaching storm. Black rides the horizon, swooping slowly towards them. A chill breeze teases the water and turns it choppy before them. He catches up to Ishida right before the other man reaches the shoreline. He seems intent on ignoring Ichigo now that he's made it clear he intends to tag along just to bother him. Ishida drops his towel, sets down his glasses, and kicks off his sandals a few meters from the water before wading out into the lapping froth. Ichigo follows.
"Come to play lifeguard, Kurosaki?"
"Well, somebody should be there to save your skinny ass when you run out of steam and sink like a rock."
They dive at the same time, turning it into a competition without needing to voice it. Part of him knows this is dangerous. Rain will begin pattering down any moment now. As the winds become stronger, the waves will grow and threaten their little aquatic jaunt.
Despite the risk, they swim for minutes on end. He would never admit it, but Ishida is the faster swimmer, thought not by much. No sounds but the rasp of their labored breathing under the rush of roiling water and wind reach their awareness. Ichigo watches Ishida's pale form cutting through the water like a fish in its natural habitat. The smooth motion of his arms twisting in the sea is momentarily distracting.
They slow, tiring, and Ichigo comes to a stop seconds before Ishida does the same. They tread water and catch their breath. Ichigo looks back towards the shore and can barely make out a bleary line with a mere dot representing the house. A wave crashes over them unexpectedly, causing them to splutter out acrid saltwater. A chill steals over them as the sun is fully eclipsed by encroaching clouds. Ichigo opens his mouth to suggest they return to shore when Ishida is suddenly dragged underwater with a startled shout.
"Ishida! What—"
Then he senses it, belatedly. A Hollow has joined them.
He makes a grab for his Substitute's badge before he remembers it's in his pants…in their bedroom. He couldn't use it even if he had it, unless he wanted to lose his body to the sea bed. Dread washes over him as he realizes he's helpless. Worse, he can do nothing to help Ishida. A flash of blue shoots out of the water a few feet from him and Ichigo tries to look below the surface. Without the sun's piercing rays, he can't see much in the murk. The outline of Ishida's struggling form resolves just as another swoops in near it.
Long and sinewy with a flared head like a shark, the Hollow is plated with interlocking armor and a serrated set of fins running down its spine to its flared tail. The beast jerks aside to dodge another attack and Ichigo realizes Ishida has already been underwater for over a minute. His heart kicks into overdrive as he fights back a vicious surge of panic. Another wave slaps over him as he tries to think of what to do. If he goes for the shore to yell for help, Ishida would be dead by the time he could get Chad or Inoue out here. Conversely, if he tries to grab the Hollow his delicate human body would be ripped to shreds, most likely attracting normal sharks with the blood flow. But he can't just do nothing!
He does the next best thing and dives down, swimming to Ishida's side. Twin rows of menacing fangs sweep out of the darkness and Ishida shoves him out of the way to loose a volley at the thing. Some of them hit and the creature's pained screech reverberates through the water regardless of the sonic physics. On its retreat, Ichigo grabs Ishida's slim wrist and drags him to the surface. They gasp in air while they can, keeping an eye on the churning drink around them. Fat drops of rain splatter onto their heads as they shout at each other over the storm.
"Kurosaki, swim back to shore!"
"Like hell I'm leaving you," he incredulously declines.
"You can't do anything like this," Ishida argues, pushing him in the direction of the shore. "Get out of here!"
"I'm not leaving you, Ishida!"
Opening his mouth to argue, Ishida is cut off by the Hollow's characteristic ululation cutting through the accompanying howl of furious wind and the crash of rabid ocean. The issue with fighting a shark-Hollow underwater is that Ishida can't tread water and shoot his bow at the same time. If it wasn't so disorienting being flung around like this, he could probably muster the concentration to stand on spirit particles. As it is, every ounce of focus is monopolized by keeping up with the Hollow's lightning-fast movements. So Ichigo grabs onto his waist for stability and isn't surprised when Ishida goes with it. The monster rushes up from below but Ishida is ready for him this time. He blinks salt and rain from his eyes and takes careful aim.
He misses.
The Hollow is barely grazed but it is enough to deter him for a few precious seconds. Ichigo marvels at the fact that Ishida is aiming so poorly. Even though they are being buffeted around and showered by cold, crushing water, Ishida never misses. Then he looks at Ishida and realizes that he isn't wearing his glasses. Of course! Ishida is near-sighted as a cross-eyed Siamese cat. Plus, it can't be easy to keep track of its spiritual energy when everything is constantly shifting so drastically. Still, he's fighting in these conditions despite the handicap so that they won't die out here.
Now that he knows, it's an easy enough task to shout instructions the next time the Hollow makes a swipe at them.
"Left twelve degrees!" he shouts.
Ishida immediately follows instruction and shoots true. But the Hollow jerks to the side and gets winged instead. Enraged, it abandons strategy and goes straight for Ishida's outstretched arm. Ichigo pulls it in just as jaws snap shut over the vacated spot. With an aggressive growl, Ishida bends his left elbow sharply and points his right hand straight down the thing's nose. His arrow glows vivid and potent before he releases it.
Sky blue flares like a pulsing star and the Hollow is rent in two at last. With a final, plaintive squeal it disintegrates into the fluttering waves. Ishida gasps from the strain, trembling against Ichigo where they are still connected. Wordlessly, he tugs the smaller man back towards land. It takes everything they have to cross the distance fatigued and fighting the raging storm. Thunder cracks deafeningly above them as they finally crawl onto solid ground. Ichigo helps haul Ishida further from the threatening fluid.
They take a moment to cough and heave as the adrenaline wears off and their bodies reprimand them with rebukes of pain and soreness. Another strike of lightning overhead reminds them they are still in danger. How lame would it be to kill the Hollow and then die from a stray lightning strike?
Ichigo pushes slowly to his feet and sees Ishida doing the same. He grabs his glasses but leaves the towel and shoes where they lie. They burst into the kitchen panting like marathon runners and shedding sopping sand as they go. Ishida slams the door behind them and leans against it with his head back and his eyes closed. Ichigo grabs a counter to steady him and stares at Ishida for completely different reasons than earlier.
Maybe it's the near-death experience, but something about Ishida seems…blindingly stunning. His drenched black hair is strewn sticky and dripping all over the place. His throat works as he swallows between quick breaths, Adam's apple bobbing along its column. The planes of his torso contort with the effort of steadying his respiration and streams of water run in the crevices between defined musculature. Dark eyes open and focus on Ichigo, catching him in this strange moment of realization.
He feels like he should say something. Anything to acknowledge what just happened between them in spite of their childish bickering. If what they have isn't friendship at the very least, then what else could it be? But Mizuiro sidles into the kitchen and balks when he sees them.
"Wow. What happened to you guys?"
"Nothing," Ishida says, tossing Ichigo a warning glance. "We went for a swim but the water got rough."
"I'll say," Keigo jumps in. "Looks like you just went five rounds in a blender!"
"We're fine," Ichigo assures, following Ishida's lead. "Starving. There any grub left?"
"Uh, yeah, man. Plenty."
Ichigo scarfs down his meal before heading back to their room for a shower. Ishida has eschewed food for cleanliness and lies freshly-showered, fully-clothed in pajamas, and bundled up in his bed. But his eyes are wide open and following the lazy fan above him. Ichigo takes a moment to watch him.
"I swear, sometimes I wonder if you're anorexic," he finally huffs. "Want me to bring you some leftovers, Mary Kate?"
"Fuck off."
Ichigo shrugs and makes a beeline for the shower. He wants this drying crust of sand and salt off his skin as soon as possible now that his belly is full. By the time he's done, Ishida is tucked into bed facing the wall and breathing slowly. His glasses are perched on the nightstand and Ichigo feels a ridiculous urge to swipe them. Luckily, he manages to resist.
He's debating sleep when he hears a quiet knock on the door. Inoue, clad in pink daisy-dotted pajamas turns a concerned expression towards Ishida before gesturing down the hall. Ichigo nods and follows her to an alcove near a wide bay window adjacent to the stairs. They take a moment to admire the moonlit seascape before turning towards each other.
"What's up?"
"Oh, nothing important," she exclaims, hurriedly waving her hands back and forth. "It's nothing serious at all! Just…I was wondering about you and Ishida-kun. You guys seem to be fighting a lot lately."
Sighing, Ichigo doesn't bother playing dumb this time. He imagines it has to be pretty obvious to everyone that they're getting along worse than they have in a long time. Maybe ever. Of course Inoue would be the one to ask about it and try to play pacifist when everyone else thinks it's funny. Yet, he doesn't think there is anything she could do to smooth things over between them, especially when he doesn't even understand why they're so rough.
"Yeah, I guess we are."
"Why?"
"I don't really know," he shrugs and turns his head in exasperation. "Sometimes he just feels like being a dick. You know how he is."
Inoue's innocent empathy hasn't changed since she was five. The way that she looks at him now reminds him of the various times she has put her whole heart into helping her friends. It irritates him that Ishida's arrogance would result in her sadness. Her expression turns thoughtful at his words and she watches the waves as she ponders.
"I think he always has a reason." Solemn brown eyes meet his in sincerity. "When Ishida-kun feels sad or upset, he won't just say that, you know? He doesn't want anyone to see his pain, so he acts rude and pushes them away."
"But why would he only be rude to me?"
"Maybe you're…causing his pain in some way?" she tries, scrunching up her nose in unpleasant contemplation. "Do you remember saying or doing anything that might make him mad?"
Ichigo thinks about it for a moment. Really thinks. But as far as he can remember, everything's been normal. School with a side of late-night Hollow fights. Sure there have been lots of times they've argued or fought, but those were mostly initiated by Ishida. There is no single instance that stands out above anything else and he says as much.
"I mean there was this time a few months ago when he asked me to go to some kind of dumb event and I said I was busy. He seemed kind of annoyed, but…"
He trails off, having nothing else to add. Inoue straightens and gets that light bulb-lookbut doesn't say anything at first. Truth is Ichigo can't even remember what the event was, much less whether it was important to Ishida or not. Besides, it was so long ago. There's no way Ishida is still pissed. Right?
"How did he ask—what did he say, exactly?"
"I don't know, Inoue," he huffs, flustered at the situation in general. "It was a while ago."
"Did he say something like, 'Come with me to this,'" she imitates Ishida with a stern, haughty expression, "Or more like, 'If you're available would you join me," she switches into a meeker but still proud countenance. Seeing her adjust imaginary glasses and let her hair fall across her face triggers a memory.
"Yeah! The second one," Ichigo confirms, nodding. "He was acting kind of twitchy and weird—weirder than usual."
"Hmm…"
"What?"
"Oh, nothing!" Inoue repeats, once again with wide eyes and waving arms. "Nothing. Just a thought but I'm sure it doesn't mean anything, haha! I think I will try talking to Ishida-kun tomorrow afternoon when we go hiking. Thank you for telling me, Kurosaki-kun. Good night!"
Without waiting for his response, she zips off in the other direction and slams the door to her and Tatsuki's room. Ichigo shakes his head and shrugs. That's Inoue for you.
The next morning brings a revival of all the excited tumult last night's storm dampened. Nature has recovered from the onslaught with the poise that only she can summon. Red-gold dawn evaporates any lingering clouds and colors the pallid landscape in great bands of green, blue, and yellow. Seagulls call over the calm waves' whispers. Buoy bells ding and boats float by in a leisurely glide.
By the time Ichigo is dressed and walking into the dining room for breakfast, his friends are already stuffing their faces and chatting amiably. Even Chad is chuckling aloud at some joke Tatsuki just told.
"Good morning, Ichigo!" Keigo greets with a wide-arcing wave. "Help yourself to delicious eggs and toast, prepared by yours truly."
"They are actually pretty good," Tatsuki tells him, eliciting a high-five from the chef.
"Where's Ishida?" Chad asks.
"Hell if I know. Has he not come downstairs yet?" Several heads shake in the negative. Ichigo plops into a seat and resists the urge to scowl as he reaches for food. "Probably still brooding about how much he hates me."
"Why did you invite him if he hates you?"
Chizuru would be the one to ask the million-dollar question. Ichigo twitches but takes a bite of bread in favor of answering.
"Probably felt sorry for him," Keigo mutters. "Right, Ichigo?"
"It's not like he has anything else to do during break," Mizuiro agrees without malice. "I don't think I've ever seen him hang out with anyone outside of clubs before."
"Ishida-kun has friends!" Inoue pipes up in his defense.
"You guys don't count," Chizuru says, gesturing lazily at Inoue, Chad, and Ichigo with her fork. "Because none of you ever asked him to hang out with you, right? Aside from that one time Ichigo invited him to lunch."
"Which he only did because he wanted to know how Glasses got all those weird injuries!" Keigo slams his cup of orange juice down hard enough to slosh some of the sticky fluid onto the table. "And then he just kept eating with us for a while, like a pathetic loser."
Chizuru nods and Chad frowns. Ichigo is about to open his mouth and shut them all up once and for all. Pissed at Ishida he may be, but the guy doesn't deserve this kind of bad-mouthing. Even if some of it is sort of true. Despite his character flaws and idiosyncrasies, Ishida is a loyal and excellent fighter. That's all you really need in Ichigo's book. Everything else is politics.
Then he catches a flicker of movement from the living room; a flash of black hair and white shirt. Wordlessly, he pushes away from the table with a sudden screech that silences the group. They stare as he strides from the dining room and out the front door without a backward glance.
"Kurosaki-kun?" he hears Inoue weakly call.
He's sure they'll gossip about how he got mad at them for bitching about Ishida but he doesn't care. The idea of Ishida hearing all that from people he considers as friends for almost three years now—whether he admits it or not—doesn't sit well with Ichigo. It can't be a great feeling. Though he doesn't really know what he wants to say, Ichigo chases Ishida up the hill leading to the start of the hiking trail near the woods.
"Ishida, wait up!"
His call is ignored. Ichigo jogs to catch up before he loses sight of him in the dense vegetation. When he falls in step beside Ishida, he waits a few steps to see if he'll respond. Otherwise he's going to at least walk with Ishida to make sure he doesn't get lost alone out here; Ishida isn't carrying anything other than his khaki shorts, white short-sleeved button-up, and sandals.
"What do you want, Kurosaki?"
"I know you heard them in there," he dives right in, grateful Ishida bothered to speak at all. "You know they were just being jerks, right? They don't really feel that way about you."
"Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually care what your friends think of me." His gaze stays steady on the path before him as he marches. Ishida is trying hard to project a calm, unaffected demeanor but Ichigo senses something deeper than that. "That includes you. So go on back to the cabin and feel free to call me a loser all you want."
"I would never call you a loser," he mumbles mostly to himself. Then to Ishida, "Come back with me and I'll make them apologize."
"Do I really need to repeat myself? I. Don't. Care."
"Fine. At least come back and eat some breakfast. You skipped dinner last night."
"Don't be such a fucking nag, Kurosaki."
"Come on, you must be hungry! What if I steal Keigo's keys and we go to that restaurant we passed on the way here?"
"No."
"Then let me grab you a sandwich."
"No."
"Ishida—"
"What part of 'go away' do you not get?"
"The part where you apparently want to starve to death in the woods rather than spend a little time with me," he snaps, glaring at the stubborn man. The more Ishida tells him no, the more he wants to force a yes, though he's not sure why. "What did I do to make you hate me so much?"
Now Ishida stops, huffing a humorless laugh, and turns a patronizing look on him full-force. "You exist. That's what you've done."
"Excuse me for worrying about your scrawny ass," Ichigo grumbles darkly. Despite hearing similar snipes from Ishida before, this one manages to pierce him like six rusty fish hooks. "No wonder you had so much trouble killing that Hollow."
Ishida's brow dips into a sharp v with that.
"Who are you calling scrawny? I could take you head-to-head any day."
"Yeah? You and what muscle-mass? All I see is toothpick bones and vampire skin." Ichigo snorts when he really wants to gulp because the way Ishida tenses up and goes still has him rethinking this. But he's gone too far to back out now. He whips his black t-shirt over his head and gestures to his torso. "This is what strength looks like, Ishida. In case you didn't know."
Ishida's eyes flare momentarily. Then he looks over Ichigo's chest and abs and sneers. "I guess if you have to bulk up to gain strength. Some of us are more efficiently-built."
It's Ichigo's turn to stare as Ishida follows his example and unzips his shirt to show off his eight-pack. If Ichigo is honest, it's plain that Ishida is anything but scrawny. The taut canvas of flesh presses in all the right places to showcase perfect symmetry and impressive shape. He's seen male models with worse bodies than Ishida but he can't exactly admit that at this point. So he bluffs.
"Pffft. Yeah, you're a warrior, all right. If you think you could take me with that bag of marshmallows, bring it on!"
Preparing a mocking laugh to complete the façade, Ichigo is caught utterly off-guard when Ishida tackles him to the ground. He lets go of his shirt in favor of using both hands for defense. Ishida is not quite swinging fists, rather trying to pin Ichigo to the point that he cannot get up. Briefly, remorse has him considering conceding. Then he remembers his pride would never allow it.
Quick and calculating, Ishida narrows his eyes and struggles to maintain leverage as Ichigo focuses on throwing him off. He gets the upper hand, rolling Ishida and even pinning his right arm. But Ishida's dominant hand darts out and hits his rib cage in a spot that causes Ichigo's left side to jolt and tingle with pins and needles. Ishida shoves him backward and he hits the ground hard. Wiry legs lock around his thighs and Ichigo instinctively bucks upwards to dislodge him. But he succeeds only in wringing a fierce growl from Ishida, who redoubles his efforts and digs archery-strengthened fingertips into his forearms.
Feeling bruises bloom under the pressure, Ichigo scowls and rips an arm free to hang his elbow over Ishida's neck and tug. Their cheeks brush and he feels Ishida's gasp as his momentum tips. It is not enough to flip them this time; they use legs to grapple on their sides. Ishida's shirt is pushed over one shoulder, restricting his arm, and Ichigo exploits the opening. An anticipatory victory-smirk creeps across his face as he rallies a surge of power.
In two seconds flat, he has Ishida pinned, knees locked between his and wrists crossed above his head. Some of the fight drains from Ishida, recognizing his defeat when he can't obtain the torque to free his arms. Ichigo is using his extra two inches of height very effectively against Ishida.
At some point his glasses were dislodged because Ichigo realizes he is peering down into unguarded eyes. Richly-rimmed with dusty lashes, they are a startlingly vibrant blue and absolutely furious. He pants open-mouthed, as does Ichigo. The rasping sound draws his attention to the artful shape of it, dusky pink and faintly shining with moisture. Ishida relinquishes the last of his resistance and lets his head fall back on a resigned exhale. The motion splays his inky hair out in a wild halo and exposes his throat in an oddly vulnerable gesture.
It is in this moment that Ichigo has a strange thought. Vague yet pervading, it builds inside him, a confused mass of want and fear and intrigue. Ishida is so warm. Firm and smooth beneath him. He smells of soap and sweat and earth. Pulse jumping erratically despite his current inactivity, Ishida continues to stare up at Ichigo through half-lidded eyes. It should be an enraged glower, but it looks more like permission.
Ishida shifts subtly beneath him and Ichigo tightens his hold, a silent command to stay put: he's not done.
His gaze wanders lower, to Ishida's bare chest sprinkled with bits of grass and soil. The stretch of his lungs rippling across the surface. Then higher, to the place where his strained shirt digs against the distinct curve of his bicep. The contrast of Ichigo's tan hands shackled to pale wrists. Lax fingers brushing pebbles and sparse flora. Ichigo glances back to Ishida's face at length. He expects a raised eyebrow or an impatient frown, but Ishida is looking at him with just as much intensity and curiosity.
He knows the next step is not a word but an action. It begins to resolve in his mind as he watches Ishida's thoughts playing slow and careful over his face.
"Ichigo."
It is Chad's reverberant bass and both of them jerk their heads to the side and spot him and Inoue coming up the path.
"Um…" Inoue begins uncertainly.
She is looking between them with a comical mix of emotions that Ichigo would appreciate in different circumstances. He springs from Ishida and fights back a wicked blush as he retrieves his shirt and pulls it over his head. The resonant zip of Ishida's shirt follows, accompanied by the harried brush of dirt from cloth and hair and skin.
"We were just fighting," Ichigo blurts. He knows he's not fooling anyone because Inoue nods emphatically, eager to accept any euphemism. "Because Ishida won't eat anything."
"Did you not want any breakfast, Ishida-kun?"
"I brought a plate to his room earlier."
"What!" Ichigo yells at Chad. "You fed him? Why didn't you just say that, Ishida?"
"I told you I didn't want anything, Kurosaki," he sniffs indignantly, looking anywhere but at Ichigo. "You're the one who refused to listen."
"That's because I thought you were being all emo and anorexic like a little girl."
"Kurosaki-kun, wait…"
"The only 'little girl' here is you," Ishida snarls, facing him to glare properly. "Worried about everyone's feelings and safety and health even when they keep telling you to get lost."
"I wouldn't have to worry if you weren't such an emotional retard."
"Ichigo…"
"What!?" he shouts at them. They gaze at him with twin looks of discomfort and concern. Why aren't they looking at Ishida like this instead? "You see what I'm dealing with. What do you expect me to do when he's like this?"
"Maybe we should all go back to the cabin so we can talk about this—"
"Your concern is noted, Inoue-san, but I would much prefer to continue my hike. Alone."
With that he pivots on a heel and strides away from the three of them. Ichigo is about to run after him and—and do something, he's not sure yet—but Chad sets a palm on his shoulder and Inoue shoots him a pleading look. He doesn't want to talk to them, either. Right now talking would only confuse him further. So he shrugs and heads back towards the house. He seems to be doing a lot of shrugging lately.
Part of him is relieved when Inoue ignores Ishida's wish and follows him into the forest.
Ichigo spends the rest of the day fencing apologies from his friends and trying to avoid everyone. He stops back in at the kitchen to grab a sandwich around lunch time, but heads back out to walk the beach after. Uses the time to think about Ishida and what might've almost happened on the trail if Inoue and Chad hadn't shown up. What he maybe wanted to happen. Anticipating a good, long brood over this, Ichigo sinks to a level spot of sand beside a cluster of rocks and stares out at the soothing ocean. He pulls off his shirt to keep cooler and leans back in an imitation of total ease.
Stilted and wary at first, his thoughts begin to take courses he never could've dreamed about before. It's a combination of frustration and hurt from Ishida's behavior and the shock of seeing him from a new perspective. Along with elements of self-discovery and courageous contemplation. Notions of intimacy and desire flicker and flare like eager flames to the kindling of a revelation.
Although Ichigo is aware he can be slow to see certain foregone conclusions, even for him this is a little ridiculous. He has never thought of Ishida in any other way than as a friend, a comrade, or a pain in the ass. Now he digs a loose fist into the hot sand as he pictures himself murmuring compliments instead of barking insults. Gazing instead of glowering. Caressing instead of shoving.
Kissing instead of cursing.
That—Ichigo focuses on that. Just the idea of kissing Ishida. Part of him shies from it, adamantly opposed to such an unbelievable shift in reality. For the sake of certainty, he shuts that part out and lets the visions come. Imagines the taste of him and the sensation of his mouth fitting to Ichigo's. Feeling his heart beating strong and fast through his chest. Listening to the sounds he would make. Teasing with tongue and teeth and fingertips.
Closing his eyes slowly, Ichigo leans all the way back now and rests his other hand over his stomach, splaying it wide. Traces it up to the base of his breast where he can feel his own heart beating, strong and fast as a result of these thoughts. His lips part slightly on a surprised wisp of breath. He takes it a step further. Pictures Ishida reaching for him, dragging him in closer. Palms pressing urgent and damp. Voice dipping in gratification. Replays that little scene in their room where Ishida dropped his pants without a speck of hesitation.
He is sweating. Overheated and indolent with bone-deep contentment. Ichigo doesn't bother blaming it on the sun. It only takes a bit more and now he's undeniably sure; lying on the beach with a boner will do that for you.