1.
When Kisuke's arm snakes from behind him and reaches for his hand for the second time in the evening Ichigo knows something is up. His lover is distant on the best of days, always an unshakeable frozen peak dusted in unexpected blizzards, treacherous passages, and a permanent bite of bitter coldness as razor-sharp as the glint of intellect in his steel grey eyes. Occasionally, Kisuke "relaxes" – maybe he lays down his head on Ichigo's lap or holds him a little tighter at night when he thinks his lover is asleep. The surrounding mountain ranges to his soul warm in what could maybe be a lowering of the permanent guard he's trained himself to keep… or at least, as much as he can bring himself to for a man who had traded his emotions for the survival of his charges and himself more than a century ago.
It's one of the reasons Ichigo loves him: Kisuke Urahara is strong. He's so raw and twisted inside that his own mother probably wouldn't recognized him but these tears and coils are not damages (at least not all of them, not anymore), they're upgrades. They're rigid and toughened scar tissue grown over the parts of the ex-Captain that weren't strong enough to keep moving forward along with his soul. Kisuke doesn't expect saving and that's how others see him as well. No one thinks he ever needs help or support. In fact, Kisuke doesn't want it.
But Ichigo knows that everyone –regardless of power or strength– needs help and support. In the end, don't the shinigami think the same of him? That Ichigo is invulnerable, unshakeable? At 19, alive and traumatized, he's a fundamental pillar of the Afterlife. Kisuke is no different, he just hides it better. (He's had more practice than the Substitute Shinigami). Ichigo thinks Kisuke's lied about his inner self so much that he's started to believe his own lies.
No, he doesn't miss his home.
Yes, he's fine.
No, he's not upset about his exile.
Yes, he can fix it.
No, he doesn't feel guilty about creating the hogyouku.
These are just some of the shadows that his lover is too capable of ignoring, of defying and of shutting out from his immediate frame of mind. Even now, that Ichigo's willing, daring and stubborn enough to look through the fog of charm and calculation of his tactics, physically tear away the fan which he hides behind… Kisuke doesn't know what to do about it. Ichigo knows that a part of Kisuke, a small sliver of the man who suffers inside the devious shopkeeper and drowns in grief and regret sees the hand Ichigo reaches towards him. He doesn't to know how to take it, if he can or even if he wants to. And sometimes when he has that piece of heart Ichigo gives him –in an attempt to quell the lasting winter storm inside him– the former Captain doesn't know what to do with it.
"What is it?" Kisuke's demeanor doesn't change. His eyes are still far away and his fingers are still rubbing little circles in the back of his hand (something he never does), but Ichigo does not need incriminating proof of his lover's moods. He just goes with the flow, and right now the flow is a distracted and upset shopkeeper. His other hand flashes and suddenly it holds a fan up, another sign something's off.
"Ah, Ichigo." Kisuke murmurs coyly. "Whatever makes you think something's wrong?"
"Don't do this." Ichigo answers patiently, not letting himself rise to the bait. Maybe once upon a time, when he was younger and much more rash… But life's taught him a lot, and so has the year of Psychology he's taken. Besides, if he told Kisuke the things that had given him away today he'd never do them again. Ichigo had learned that one the hard way, Kisuke now only pulls his hat lower into his gaze when strictly necessary instead of when he feels vulnerable and in need to hide. It'd been such a good tell, too. "You know I know that you're upset, and don't you dare lie." Ichigo's scowl is firmly in place, seemingly impatient.
"It's nothing important really." Kisuke answers flippantly. Ichigo hears the small thump of him throwing his head back against the sliding door. Even as he says so, Kisuke's body tightens a fraction around him; another familiar tell. Ichigo knows that Kisuke is a pool of mystery for most people, and considering that applied to him as well (long ago) he understands how, but at the same time, now he can't remember a time where he couldn't read his lover like a book.
"If it's so unimportant I'm sure you won't mind telling me then?" Ichigo's head is still in the same book he's been reading, in the same position since he'd arrived sitting between Kisuke's legs, his back against the wider torso behind him. This was one of Kisuke's favorite spots, reclining against the opened sliding door of his room, his bedroom to one side and his little garden in the other. Perfect light for reading and the most relaxing breeze. Though, today it doesn't seem to be relaxing enough.
Kisuke grabs Ichigo's sharp jaw, bringing his torso into an almost uncomfortable twist and brings their faces impossibly close. He takes the fraction of a second to look into amused brown eyes and allow their breathing to mingle before he presses his lips to Ichigo's in the sweetest of gestures. Ichigo puts his book aside in a swift movement. One hand caresses his lovers jaw as Kisuke slides a tongue against Ichigo's slightly chapped lips. Ichigo smiles into the kiss as a hand sneaks up Kisuke's shoulder to tangle on his hair because he knows when he's been played and suddenly-
"Ow." Ichigo pulls back on Kisuke's long strands viciously, making his head snap back. It takes Kisuke mere seconds to regain his composure. "That was unnecessary." He mumbles, irritation underlining his voice.
"Don't try to change the subject." Ichigo says without remorse. "You're a hundred years too early to try to pull such a thing over me. I know you better than that." Ichigo turns around, sliding further down against Kisuke, and allowing his head to rest on his thigh. He looks up at Kisuke from his comfort on the floor.
"If I'm not mistaken, it is me who has centuries of knowledge." Kisuke mumbles, running a hand in through the short bangs.
"Details." Ichigo hums unhurriedly, he knows Kisuke's going to tell him.
They stay there for a while, Kisuke petting Ichigo's hair and Ichigo nuzzling his thigh. Ichigo feels warm against Kisuke, maybe a little too warm but the breeze is nice and soothing and night isn't a long ways off. A part of him is a little worried that he might fall asleep before Kisuke cracks.
"The house is quiet." It is uttered so casually that it almost sounds like Kisuke is just ignoring Ichigo's pending question and is changing the subject, but the orange-haired man knows better. And suddenly, he understands what's been bothering Kisuke all day. Kisuke's house has always been lively, even before the kids. First, they'd been hiding with the Vizards. And then him and Yoruichi and their dragging of poor Tessai in 'adventures'... well, there had rarely been boredom or peace. And when Jinta and Ururu had joined them that energy had doubled. The war had changed all that. The end of the War hadn't meant the continuation of normality. The house isn't empty, but it is quiet. Too quiet.
Ichigo knows what quiet does to your thoughts, and he knows what it does particularly to his lover. Kisuke always has to be doing something, building, learning, experimenting, talking, fucking... Anything but being left alone to ponder on his choices, or examine his actions... His brilliant mind starts working out better courses of actions and impossible reasons as to why he should've seen this or that tragedy coming. (His lover is a talkative drunk.)
"Did I tell you about how Kensei got caught double timing last week?" Ichigo feels Kisuke relax against him as he realizes Ichigo will not prod. Ichigo wants to, oh, he aches to know all the little connections his lover's brain makes, how one thought links to the next and what conclusions Kisuke takes out of his day, specially the time they spent together... But he's a very reserved man, and Ichigo understands - in theory - that regardless of how much Kisuke trusts him, sharing just doesn't come naturally to him. Getting him to admit something is wrong is taking less and less time, the words come easier to his lips each time but that's because Ichigo works hard to make him feel safe in his confessions.
So, he can't badger Kisuke with help no matter how much he wants to. So, he'll settle for this, for now. This is good enough. This reprieve is a reward, a promise that Kisuke only needs to go as far as he's comfortable and tricking him into opening himself a little more each time. Meanwhile, Ichigo knows what the problem is -today, at least- and so he sinks himself into meaningless chatter, he can make quiet a lot of noise when he wants. His lover's hand remains intertwined in orange-colored tresses and eventually he drifts off to the sound of Ichigo's soft chatter.
Preview for "Happiness?":
How can a man with so much blood on his hands, so much grief in his soul, and so much responsibility and regret on his shoulders laugh such a beautiful laugh?
Hello, this story has a huge, huge outline all done. I already have some of it written but I'm trying to get out as much as possible before updating so don't expect updates for maybe a month. (I just could not resist posting at least this first chapter.)
There will be no explicit sex scenes, but plenty of T Rated snogging. This story is inspired by the completely brilliant and heartbreakingly incomplete Shades of Grey by SilverKytten which got me obsessed with this pairing. The updates to this will be faster than my other story (Ripples over the Moon), and that's the only thing I can promise.
If you're interested I have recently started posting my original work online via three mediums: twitter and instagram as danaruewrites and on tumblr as lowkeywriting; so if you'd like to, check it out!
As always reviews inspire me and are thoroughly appreciated.