Title: Once, Twice, a Hundred Times and Idiot

Pairing: Ichigo & Uryuu

Warnings: language, angst, strong sexual content

Summary: Suffering through a one-sided love, Ichigo keeps imagining what it would be like to finally confess to Uryuu once and for all. He's going to do it. He must do it. No, on second thought maybe he shouldn't do it...

AN: Except for a phone conversation later in the story, all italicized dialogue is Ichigo's imagination/thoughts.

Theme songs: "When I'm Alone" by The Rifles, "Come a Little Closer" by Cage the Elephant, and "Do I Wanna Know" by Arctic Monkeys.


The sun is settling serenely into a fluffy nest of clouds on the horizon. Rich red rays diffusing in the condensation cast the skyline in a bloody haze. The shine of Ishida's hair reflects it in vibrant highlights as he turns his head attentively towards him. Ichigo evades his searching gaze at the last second, too anxious to meet the hard blue of his eyes in this moment. Instead, he looks around the vacant high school rooftop and thinks about how different it feels to be up here after everything that has happened.

A neatly-folded sheet of paper soaks up the moisture of his damp palm hidden in a pocket. The sloppy scrawl that poorly expresses his complicated feelings is at risk of running black and splotchy over the page but Ichigo can't hand it over yet. There are so many things he wants to say. He has rehearsed this speech countless times but it never sounds right. His heart jumps into his throat as he opens his mouth to speak.

"You see, Ishida, about you—Well, what I mean to say is..."

"What is it, Kurosaki? I don't have much time before I have to leave for class."

The fantasy is slapped away from him as his friend strides out of the bathroom. Rather than pointlessly revisiting their old high school in a melodramatic sunset, he and Ishida are finishing up a last-minute study session in Ichigo's apartment. Chad already left a little while ago and he thought Ishida had, too. Which is why he was lying on his couch daydreaming once again about something that will never happen.

Ishida comes to stand over him with a raised eyebrow. Caught mumbling stupid things to himself, Ichigo frowns.

"Nothing. I wasn't talking to you."

"You said my name."

"No, I didn't."

"Kurosaki, you..." He sighs, too preoccupied with getting to class on time to debate it further. Ichigo sits up as Ishida picks up his bag and slings it over his shoulder. "Whatever. For the record, I don't appreciate how strangely you've been acting lately."

"Yeah, me neither."

Shooting him a look for that comment, Ishida slips on his shoes and pauses with his hand on the doorknob.

"Is something going on with you? Do you need to talk about it?"

"Nah." Ichigo rubs hands over his face and exhales slowly. "I'm just stressed. Too many exams."

"I know how you feel. Hey, do you have plans tonight? Maybe we could grab a late dinner after my lab."

"Sure. Sounds good."

"Okay, I'll text you."

"Cool."

The instant Ishida shuts the door from the outside, he collapses back to the sofa with a groan. Ichigo can't count the number of times he has almost let slip that he's secretly sweet on his friend, intentional or accidental. It doesn't help that he spends so much time with Ishida these days. Ever since the end of the Quincy blood war, where they finally hashed out all their long-standing issues with each other, it's been comfortable like this. Add that to the fact they ended up attending the same university, and...

He and Ishida have never been closer. They see each other on purpose almost every day, whether studying or just hanging out. Invitations flow easily. True arguments are few and far between. Ichigo knows all about Ishida's favorite things and vice versa. Laughter and praise is not taboo in a typical conversation. If they can't make time to meet up for a few days, they message back-and-forth instead.

Whenever Ishida is not around, Ichigo misses him.

Love letters, Valentines chocolates, thoughtful birthday gifts, kind gestures, excessive helpfulness, and maudlin compliments. Ichigo has to subvert these pesky urges on a daily basis. It has gotten to the point that he forgets sometimes what platonic friendship is supposed to be like. He periodically bounces his questionable inclinations off Chad first just to be sure. The man has probably saved him from a few dozen embarrassing situations.

If someone were to ask Ichigo when he first realized he was in love with Ishida Uryuu, he really couldn't answer. All he knows is it's too late to go back now. He is officially smitten and it's destroying his life.


Three hours later, Ichigo is rushing across campus en route to his last lecture of the day. Taking a corner too fast, he bumps into a group of young women and almost knocks one of them over. He apologizes and helps pick up contents of the bag he spilled across the ground. Then he freezes in place, holding a pen with a novelty cat eraser wedged on the end.

Ichigo got one just like it for Ishida's eighteenth birthday as a gag gift. It is still hilarious to him how blue eyes narrowed in confused offense at the juvenile toy. The real present was a shiny new smartphone to replace the old piece of junk from Urahara that he wouldn't throw out because 'it still works, Kurosaki, and I refuse to be wasteful'. Ishida was rendered speechless and didn't want to accept such an expensive gift, but Ichigo didn't give him a choice. It was only after claiming he didn't want to hear the man saying he missed Ichigo's call because of bad service ever again that Ishida eventually caved. He then proceeded to call every couple of hours for the next week to make sure it was working properly. Ishida answered every time.

Having the cat-adorned utensil snatched from his hand jolts Ichigo back to reality. The girl he was helping shoots him a dirty look before sauntering off to catch up with her friends. He continues to class but gets distracted again as he sees The Tree. Ichigo's steps slow to a stop as he stares at its shifting branches.

Tucked into a secluded corner of a wide courtyard, he rarely passes it anymore since his classes changed this semester. A useful meeting place since it marked a halfway point between his and Ishida's two o'clock classes, they often sat under its thick shade to eat lunch together. While they have many recurring rendezvous spots both on campus and off, this one stands out above the rest.

It is the only place where he very nearly kissed Ishida.

Propped against the tree's broad, smooth trunk, they poked at the remainders of their meals and watched fellow students milling about in the sunshine. Ishida made a critical remark about someone's atrocious fashion sense and Ichigo almost choked laughing around a half-chewed bite. The man smiled back before shifting to lie down in the cool grass. His head was resting on a messenger bag right beside Ichigo's hips and he couldn't help wishing Ishida would scoot a little closer to use his lap as a pillow instead.

"I'm really glad we can meet up like this between classes, Kurosaki. Nothing relaxes me better than a quiet hour spent with you."

"Me, too, Ishida. Sometimes I wish we had the same schedule so we would never have to be apart."

"I was afraid to admit it aloud but you read my mind. Can I move in with you? It's so hard to fall asleep each night without you by my side."

"I've been waiting for you to ask. Of course you can live with me! Now I finally think I can tell you something I've been feeling for a long time."

"What is it, Kurosaki?"

"Actually, I can't be just friends anymore. I need you, Ishida. Be mine?"

Or so it went in Ichigo's head while Ishida fell asleep for an accidental nap. Lifting his glasses off in case Ishida were to roll over, Ichigo folded and carefully placed them to the side. Even though he should have been studying for a quiz he would be taking in forty minutes, Ichigo couldn't drag his eyes from that sleeping face. A light breeze tickled his fringe about his ears and rustled his clothes. The hand he had half-slung over his stomach slid off, making his Quincy bracelet clink from the light impact.

Call it a fit of madness, but the calm scene had the opposite effect on Ichigo. It was making his heart race and his temples sweat. His fingers twitched, wanting to brush the hair from Ishida's closed eyes. He shifted uneasily in place. Tried to distract himself by opening a textbook. Sipped at a bottle of lemonade. Checked his phone for new email.

Then he pushed everything away all at once and braced on an elbow to lean right above Ishida's mouth. Ichigo barely had the will to stop himself right before their lips touched. It was the toughest battle he ever fought. The way Ishida's mouth parted on a tiny sigh didn't help one bit. Wavering in that eternal purgatory, Ichigo imagined what it would feel like to take that final step. But Ishida's fluttering eyelashes frightened him off.

Once again, he shakes himself out of pointless reminiscing and starts walking. Since he is fifteen minutes late for her class, the professor openly glares as Ichigo finally takes his seat. Yet, all he can think about once there is how he can't wait to see Ishida at dinner tonight. It is entirely too pathetic how he leans his chin on a palm and sighs in a lovelorn daze picturing it.

Maybe he'll wear the shirt Ishida gave him last year. No, it's probably dirty since he wore it a few days ago. He loves the way Ishida dresses, always looking so poised. Although it could be he just loves Ishida's body no matter what he's wearing. Especially if he isn't wearing anything at all. Not that Ichigo has seen him naked yet—not that he is expecting to anytime soon! That kind of thing would be way too good to be true.

What if he invited Ishida to an onsen? Having the chance to ogle a heat-flushed, tranquil Ishida wearing nothing but cloudy water...He would have to be so sneaky about it. Going to the gym might be easier, but less romantic. Wait, is peeking at your friend's naked body because you're secretly hot for him romantic in the first place? Surely, he must be a depraved pervert for even thinking that sort of thing! Then why does it sound like such an awesome idea?

Ichigo's head thunks loudly to his desk.

He looks up to see his neighbors eyeing him curiously. Whispering an apology for the disruption, he resolves to focus on the lesson and take notes like a dutiful student. He pulls out a mechanical pencil and spiral notebook and everything! But the color of the paper reminds him of Ishida's anti-tan and the little blue lines start to resemble strands of his neat hair. Ichigo turns the notebook sideways and starts doodling slanted eyes, then glasses, a narrow nose, and his trademark smirk.

By the time Ichigo is shaping the sharp jaw line, the professor dismisses class and noise erupts as everyone starts to leave. He tries to scribble down the homework assignment but it is erased before he can catch half. Ichigo glances down at his rough sketch and sighs. This smirking Ishida he drew instead of paying attention as he should seems to be laughing at his troubles. That is so like Ishida.

Slogging his way out of the lecture hall, Ichigo resolves to confess and get it over with. He can't keep doing this. The longer he puts it off, the worse it will be. Tonight. Ichigo will tell Ishida tonight.


Tomorrow. Ichigo will definitely confess tomorrow.

"And she didn't think adding another paragraph to expand on why the social practice of kava-drinking in Polynesia is a more significant cultural concept than widespread consumption of frozen turkey tails in Oceania, though still less important than the Maori tattooing rituals. So, I told her to do whatever she wants with the draft as long as I am still consulted on edits."

Normally, he can happily listen to Ishida ramble about his humanities electives all day long, but Ichigo is too nervous about his near-misses earlier to pay much heed tonight. As they walked into the restaurant and sat down, Ichigo fought with a tenacious eye-twitch. After they were seated, he started to speak just as their server walked up and asked for drink orders. Then, when he reached across the table intending to snatch up Ishida's hand in a dramatic gesture, he knocked over the full cup as it was placed in front of him.

Three strikes and Ichigo was out.

Seeing as Ishida is in a foul mood from a group project that went south today, he figures it isn't the right time anyway. So he settles in and listens like a good friend, nodding and humming when appropriate, even if his heart isn't in it. He is idly wondering what would happen if he moved to sit beside Ishida instead of across from him.

"Kurosaki, what are you doing? There's plenty of room on that side of the table. Are you forgetting I'm left-handed? Our elbows will bump while we eat."

Or if Ichigo tried to be all sexy and feed him a piece of his coconut chicken.

"Ishida, say 'aah...'"

"Tell me you're joking. That's unhygienic. And I hate coconut."

Swiftly running out of ideas to flirt or be suave, he settles for trying a cool one-handed chopstick-flipping trick he saw on a show once. It looked pretty easy to do and the chick in the scene was impressed. What could it hurt? He starts wiggling his fingers slowly in a close imitation of the trick and it seems to be working. Picking up speed, Ichigo grins and glances up to see if Ishida is watching. He isn't.

The chopsticks flick out of his hands with noisy clatters. Not to be deterred, he snatches them up and tries again. Except now he's nervous from his first failure and he can't even get them going. After a few minutes of this he gives up and goes back to eating his food. A snort from Ishida has him raising his head to see why.

"I believe you were attempting this," he says and immediately starts spinning his chopsticks like a pro, dark wood blurring with the motions. Ichigo's eyebrows shoot upward. "There is a knack to it, if you've never done it before. Here, I'll show you."

He watches as Ishida slides out of the booth to perch beside Ichigo, takes his hand, and places the sticks precisely where he wants them. Instructing him on how to move his fingers and when, he demonstrates once more in his dominant hand before switching to his right so Ichigo can mirror the movement easier. Rather than focusing on the lesson, he finds himself marveling at Ishida's ambidexterity and reveling in his proximity.

"How did you learn to do this?"

"I watched the same show as you," says Ishida with a little smile, "With you, actually."

"Oh...right. You're really good."

"I got bored in class one day. It's harder with pens."

Sensing that the lesson is over, he expects Ishida to move back to his side of the table. Ichigo's stomach does a giddy flip when he simply reaches across to grab his plate and continue eating right beside him. Well, his left hand is on the outside from this angle so it's not a problem. Now offering a bite of his food is looking like a decent idea after all. He picks a piece and steels his courage to turn and ask.

"Do you want to try some of this?"

"Sure," he agrees after a sip of water. Before Ichigo can offer the bite he is holding, Ishida reaches to snag a chunk from his plate. "Try mine, too."

"Only if you feed it to me." It slips out so fast and he can't suck it back in! Ichigo's talents do not include turning back time. He laughs—loudly. "Ahahaha, just kidding! Oh, man the look on your face...Yeah, like I would ever want you to feed me anyth—"

Ishida fluidly plucks a bite of his meal from his plate, twists at the waist to face him, and deposits the morsel in Ichigo's open mouth in the span of about two seconds. His lips close on the chopsticks out of habit and Ishida delicately extracts them. Then he turns back to his plate and keeps eating as if nothing unusual happened at all. Shaken, it takes Ichigo a moment to start chewing. He is staring at the Ichigo-contaminated chopsticks that Ishida doesn't seem to mind using. They touch his lips in an indirect kiss and Ichigo swallows drily.

"What, you don't like it?"

He can't tell if Ishida means the food or the fact that he just fed it to Ichigo, so he doesn't answer right away. Ishida is regarding him with a strangely placid expression. Almost as though he is daring Ichigo to say something about it.

"I liked it," he finally says in a small voice. "Can I have more?"

Smirking around his straw, Ishida breaks eye contact. Suddenly Ichigo can breathe again. Their server coming back to check in on them and leave the bill supersedes any forthcoming response. They each pay half in cash, as usual, after finishing their meals. Ichigo grabs two mints on the way out and hands one to Ishida, who readily accepts it. He takes Ichigo's wrapper and tosses it in a handy trash can along with his own.

"Movie at my place?"

"Yes," Ichigo says too quickly. "I mean, yeah, I guess that would be okay."

"I should warn you, it has been a long day and I might fall asleep before it's over."

"That's fine."

Ichigo can't think of anything Ishida could do to get him to want to leave his studio apartment. It is a rare occasion that he is invited and Ichigo likes to make the most of it when it happens. It is smaller than Ichigo's not because Ishida can't afford a bigger place but because he would rather save the money. Plus, it has the added result of using Ishida's bed as a couch most of the time, which means it's easier to slump against each other and blame it on a lack of armrests.

Ishida pushes open the door he unlocks and walks through, letting Ichigo close and lock it behind him. Shoes are kicked off, jackets are shed, and school bags are dumped next to Ishida's desk. He pointedly averts his gaze as Ishida pulls off his tie and shrugs out of his over-shirt to the thin t-shirt beneath, really not needing any more mental imagery of Ishida stripping than he already has.

"Help yourself to whatever you want to drink," he offers as he grabs the TV remote and powers it on with an electronic melody. "What do you feel like watching?"

"Didn't you mention some Korean film you wanted to check out?" replies Ichigo from the open fridge. "I'm not picky tonight."

He grabs a bottle at random and starts drinking as the door swings shut. Ishida hums in the affirmative. Ichigo looks up in time to see him pushing his pants down his legs. The sweet liquid in his mouth hits the floor in a violent burst. Even though Ishida is wearing boxers and holds a pair of shorts to change into, Ichigo's hormones don't know the difference between him changing clothes and getting naked.

Ishida pauses with one leg in the shorts to stare at him for the outburst.

"That milk should still be good..."

"Uh. No, I think it is but," Ichigo grabs a towel to mop up the mess and hide his burning face, "I just wasn't expecting strawberry-flavored. Sorry."

"It's my favorite."

"Since when? I've never seen you drink it."

Shorts officially donned, Ishida strides over and takes the bottle from his loose grip. Standing right in front of Ichigo, he brings the sticky container to his mouth and licks a drop from the messy rim before swallowing a few deep draughts. All while holding Ichigo's gaze. His tongue darts out again to clear sugary residue from his upper lip as he hands the bottle back. On auto-pilot, Ichigo's fingers close around it without conscious decision.

"Now you've seen me drink it."

"Bathroom," Ichigo blurts and sets the milk down as if it has become radioactive. "Sticky hands."

"The kitchen sink is right behind—"

The bathroom door shuts before he finishes his sentence. Ichigo flips on the water to rinse his hands, but mostly for background noise to cover his rasping breaths. He splashes the cool water on his face and wills his heart rate to slow. Maybe it is just his recent desperation influencing him, but it really seems like Ishida is being sexier than usual. He's sexy enough as it is! Too sexy, in fact, or Ichigo wouldn't be struggling like this.

At this rate, he has to get himself under control or he won't even make it through the movie.

When he pulls it together enough to leave the bathroom, Ishida is standing in front of his entertainment center, bent over to put a rented DVD into the player. The way his shorts hug his ass in the position has Ichigo nearly tripping over a chair in distraction. Straightening at the noise, Ishida glances at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Having problems, Kurosaki? Perhaps you should hurry and sit before you break something."

"Shut it," he grunts out of habit, though he does as suggested and promptly plops onto the neatly-made bed. "Why don't you hurry, Ishida? How long does it take to put in a DVD?"

"Just for that, I'm leaving off the subtitles."

Accomplished nerd that he is, Ishida is comfortable enough with Korean—in addition to a couple other languages—that he could probably watch the foreign film without any translation. Ichigo, on the other hand, knows maybe a dozen words. He shoots the man a glare for the threat. It evaporates in lieu of shock as Ishida sidles right up against him on the wide space, shoulder-to-shoulder. Their legs are even touching near the knee.

"Hey, who said I wanted you to sit so close?"

"We always end up like this anyway." Ishida shrugs, causing their shirt sleeves to ride up and expose more flesh. "Figured I'd save us the trouble of shifting around later."

"Weirdo."

"Prude."

"Jerk," counters Ichigo without heat.

"Wimp."

This continues through the opening credits, twin grins blooming as the names become more ridiculous. Then Ichigo notices that there really are no subtitles. He turns to glare hard at Ishida's blank profile. Feigning innocence, he ignores the scrutiny until Ichigo goes to snatch the remote away. Ishida evades, holding it out on the side furthest from him and keeping his expression composed.

"First and last warning, Ishida: put on the subtitles or else."

The man snickers. Ichigo pounces.

Limbs flail and breaths puff from sudden exertion. Ichigo is reaching, twisting, tugging to get to the little black bar that Ishida keeps slipping under, through, and around. Growling in frustration, he traps one of Ishida's legs between his to keep him from wriggling away and pins the opposite arm to the mattress. Ishida is laughing even as he is caught, breathless with amusement at the annoyed pinch to Ichigo's brow. As a last-ditch effort, he jams the remote behind his back and dares with his eyes.

So, Ichigo scoops him up against his chest to uncover the pesky object.

A triumphant cry sounds as his fingers close around it. Then Ichigo realizes he is effectively hugging Ishida without being yelled at or fought against. Scent of detergent, softness of hair, and warmth of body register in a roaring avalanche of stimuli. Ichigo immediately lets the man go and scoots back against the wall. Ishida isn't laughing anymore.

"Sorry," Ichigo says towards the TV.

"It's fine."

"I just got caught up in it..."

"I said it's fine, Kurosaki. Let's watch the movie."

In the end, he is too preoccupied to switch on the subtitles. How can he pay attention to an action thriller after that? Ishida doesn't mention it. He does resume his spot leaning against Ichigo after a few minutes, though. Praying that Ishida can't feel his pulse pounding through the contact, Ichigo is swept up in another ridiculous daydream.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Is it too strange if I say I think I liked the way it felt when you hugged me, Kurosaki?"

"Whether it's strange or not, I don't care because I liked it, too."

"Maybe we should do it again? See if it was a fluke?"

"If you really want to, Ishida."

"Definitely. Then I want you to hold me down like before, only...this time pretend I hid the remote in my shorts instead."

Biting his lip in discomfiture, Ichigo forces the fantasy to recede. Why do all of his internal conversations with Ishida sound like a cheesy erotic novel? There's no chance the man beside him would ever say anything so lame and overtly suggestive! There's no chance Ishida would ever want Ichigo to touch him in the first place, obviously. Otherwise he wouldn't have tensed up like that when Ichigo accidentally held him. He is probably forcing himself not to go scrub off Ichigo-germs in a scalding shower right now.

A heavy sigh draws Ishida's attention to him again. Ichigo ignores the weight of his gaze and pretends to be immersed in the scene. But several seconds slowly pass and he has to look over.

"What?"

"Tell me what has been bothering you," he orders in a gentle voice. "You know I hate it when I can't figure out what you're thinking."

"You are what's bothering me, idiot. I can't keep acting like I just want your friendship. Do you have any idea what it's like to want someone so badly that it physically hurts? I love you so much I can't think straight. You are my own personal torture...and my only refuge."

"I had no idea you felt that way, Kurosaki. Why didn't you say something sooner? Yes, of course I'll be with you. Kiss me."

He can't say any of it.

Every time he tries, he remembers a specific event from that night during their final year of high school. A graduation party. Everyone was there, even Ishida, who never had time for parties. Strolling through the house looking for the friends he got separated from, Ichigo pushed open a bedroom door at the wrong moment. Inside he found Inoue and Ishida. The mellow reddish tones of her auburn hair slipping between his long fingers as he kissed her deeply.

Listening to the urgent hums of her approval as Ishida's tongue sought hers, Ichigo had learned that heartache stung worse than a hand through the chest. He stood frozen there for some time, easily hidden from their closed eyes. There was no mistaking it for anything other than what it was. Neither an accident nor a joke. He had a good enough view of their faces to know it was undoubtedly them, too. And as the hand Ishida had pressed to her back began to slide lower, Ichigo finally tore himself away.

When he asked Ishida about it the next day, he firmly told Ichigo he didn't know what he was talking about.

"I told you earlier, didn't I?" he snaps too vehemently for the context, "I'm stressed out. Leave it alone already."

"If it's stress-relief you need, maybe I can help." Ishida engages him in a slow kiss as he reaches for Ichigo's zipper.

Watching him with a flat stare, Ishida narrows his eyes to see Ichigo's cheeks ignite in a bright blush. Ichigo thanks any deities listening that the man can't actually read his mind. Though the next words out of his mouth startle Ichigo into a panic.

"If it's just stress, maybe I can help."

"What!?" Ichigo yelps, leaning away and pulling up his knees to guard his crotch, just in case. "W-what the hell are you talking about?"

"Are you thinking weird things, Shinigami?" he demands with genuine irritation and a warning frown. "I was going to suggest a trip to the onsen this weekend but if you're going to act like I'm some kind of leper, then forget it."

"You've never gone to an onsen before!"

"Of course I have, just not with you!"

"Then why are you suggesting it so suddenly? Isn't that strange?" Ichigo suspiciously insists.

"I got a certificate for my birthday and it will expire soon," snarls Ishida, unhappy about getting the third-degree for his kindness. "I swear, Kurosaki, it's like you're a different person lately. Since when were you so on-edge?"

"Fine."

"Fine what?"

"I'll go to the onsen with you this weekend."

Ishida is at a loss for words. He doesn't appreciate the abrupt change in attitude or topic and his expression says as much. It is probably Ichigo's morose frown that convinces him to let it go. Ishida turns back to the movie as he speaks in a calmer tone.

"It's an overnight pass."

"I don't have any other plans."

"I can only bring one guest."

"Afraid to be alone with me, Ishida?"

"I was going to ask you the same, considering your reactions lately. You know we will probably see each other shirtless at least, right? We'll be sharing a room, too. Sure you can cope if I accidentally bump into you?"

Perceiving more than a little resentment from the man, Ichigo regrets his behavior. While it is true they have done things like change clothes in front of each other, wrestle to solve petty arguments, and sleep in the same room, most of that was before Ichigo decided it would actually be really nice if he could maybe have sex with Ishida. His perspective regarding physical contact and nudity has changed somewhat since then.

"Yeah."

"'Yeah'?"

"Yeah, I can cope with all that and yeah, I still want to go with you. It sounds fun."

Ishida huffs a skeptical sigh.

They don't talk for the rest of the movie. By the time end credits roll, they are lying short-wise on the bed with heads propped on pillows and feet dangling off the edge. Ishida fell asleep a few minutes ago without taking his glasses off again. Shaking his head at how absent-minded such a brainiac can be, Ichigo gingerly removes and sets them on a nearby table.

This time he doesn't fight an urge to appreciate the enticing picture Ishida makes. Clothing carelessly rumpled, part of his stomach and most of one thigh is showing. His right leg is bent, leaving his narrow hips wide open. Ichigo can practically feel the smooth heat of defined muscles under his hungry palms. Ishida's head turning slightly to the side in sleep emphasizes the graceful length of his neck. His mouth waters at the thought of sucking kisses against it.

Excitement burns in Ichigo's blood, feeding the interest he has been resisting all night. He chokes back a low groan as he swiftly rises past the halfway line of arousal. On an attraction-scale of one to ten, Ichigo is hovering right around 'throw him against a wall and shove a hand down his pants'. He dares to inch closer. The spread of Ishida's eyelashes across the tops of his cheeks flickers with the mattress' shift but he doesn't wake.

Ichigo drops daringly lower to breathe him in. The path of his nose follows along the line of Ishida's shoulder, throat, and up to his chin. The delicate curve of his exposed ear begs for attention. He imagines how the lobe would flush pink with a hot tongue rolling over it. Ichigo clenches a fist into the bedspread bunched between them and swallows hard.

"You are too trusting, Ishida," he tightly murmurs. "Can't you sense the danger you're in?"

Before he does something Ishida will kill him for, he starts to get up. Walking all the way home at this hour won't be pleasant, but it's better than trying to explain to Ishida why he didn't leave after the movie. They aren't that close.

"Kur'saki," drawls a sleepy slur.

Ichigo goes into red-alert and halts mid-movement. "Y-yeah?"

Glossy blue eyes blink partially open. Ishida waves him closer with a lazy hand motion until Ichigo is lying beside him again. Surely this is the moment Ishida rejects his not-confession with cutting words and unfiltered disgust. He'll take a ruthless punch to the jaw and Ishida will never speak to him again.

"It's late: stay if you want."

"...You sure?"

"Mn."

He pulls the blanket over them both and settles in while his heart ferociously rebels against his ribcage.