A/N: I've wrote this for Bleach 15th Anniversary, but never really published it. Now after Bleach ending I feel we all need more IchiRuki in our lives, so here you go
Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters belong to Tite Kubo.
No, we're not doing that. I agreed to come here, but it wasn't for your stupid drinking games.
Oh c'mon Ichigo.. Have some fun. One night does no harm, right?
Rukia stood between the two slightly disorientated. She didn't really want to argue, because, let's be honest, she had no idea what was happening. Well, technically she could give you a report: Due to his birthday Keigo asked all his friends out, and while she still didn't knew what a party of a lifetime could mean she forced Ichigo to take her. Then he explained it's basically dancing and drinking alcohol.
That all sounded pretty simple. But she never expected pitch black room with random lights flashing straight into your eyes. Oh and plenty of drunk people lying all around.
Well fine, it wasn't this bad in fact. She danced her legs out and ripped her throat singing, sweating literally everywhere. It was crazy. Nothing like she had ever done. Slightly scary, but fun as hell.
Shots, twice, please!
Though now has come the time, when she was unable to move from her stool and Ichigo just sat by her side being grumpy like always. She asked him so many times to go talk to this bleached blondes, who stared at him for hours now, but he then would start a lecture on how dangerous the place is for girls such as her. Whatever that meant, for goodness sake.
So Keigo, being a model host, came up to them and talked them into a shots. That meant her. Because Ichigo was still bitterly sceptical about every-single-thing happening that night.
And there they were. Drunk as a skunk. Trying to drag themselves to the right doors.
But it's sooooo pretty out there!
No. We. Are. Getting you to bed.
He mumbled trying very hard to get the key to the keyhole, while she was trying very hard to stay up on her feet, holding onto his shirt. He managed to get inside, nearly wrecking the door in the process, and tumbled on the way to the stairs, Rukia falling right on his back, laughing her head off.
Shut up, midget. He muttered, rubbing ached arm.
She didn't bother answering. He pulled her back up, and she clang onto him again. After long time spent on taking the stairs they got in their room.
Just, wait here. I'll… I'll get it.
He was about to make her the bed, and get himself a blanket. The thought of cosy sheets made him feel so incredibly exhausted. But in split second he was down on the floor. She leaned onto the wall, and slid down, pulling him with her. He had no strength nor will to move, so they just sat like this. The house was empty, so there was no noises. Window let just some of the moonlight in, making it possible to recognize only basic shapes. They sat like this, undisturbed for some time, not feeling like moving anywhere.
After a while she leaned her head to the side, lying it gently on his shoulder. Sitting, the difference in height was a little less noticeable, but still huge. The top of her head was still no higher than his collarbones.
You're okay? He tilted his head to see her face.
Was she asleep this fast? It was kind of cute seeing her like this. No fuss around, just two of them silently in the room. He didn't thing he could remember last time they were so quiet together. There was always so much to say. He missed it like this. When no words were needed. Just glorious silence.
He felt her moving by his side. Afraid so she doesn't fall on the ground he wrapped his arm around her. It was when she looked up at him from behind her messy hair. She was so worn out. He giggled silently, but he felt so dizzy at the time it was like he was lacking of air. Apparently he could use some sleep as well. He felt his head slowly falling down until his forehead stopped touching hers. It was too late to think sanely. Time disappeared. It could be seconds it could be hours they sat like this. With no sight, no sound. It was timeless. It was like a vacuum. If you let go of any focus, you could almost forgot there is any kind of physical world. Only her warm breaths reminded him of where they were. He opened his eyes unrushed. And first thing he saw was her round, blue eyes. Soft moonlight rays reflected in her iris. Never have they been so close. In purely literal meaning. Just few inches parting them right now. She took a deeper breath. She was about to start something and he was trying so hard to hear that muffled whisper, but the sound never came out. Instead her lips pushed at his with raising force. First the warmth of exhaled air on his cheek then her tiny upper lip stroking his paring mouth. They both froze. She paralyzed with worry, and he with surprise, none knowing how to act. Her breath shivered and she moved away. She started inhaled the air sharply. Million thoughts rushing through her weary head. Everything became so awkward. The floor digging into her bony legs, the room too small for her, the air too humid to breathe comfortably. The anxiety made it hard to think, to move, to do anything about the terrible situation she found herself in. She felt like crying over her hopeless stupidity. She was too embarrassed to raise her sight. Too afraid to see the disappointment and feel the wall raising between them.
Maybe if she did look up, just for a split second, she'd see how different the time passed in this room. How, when she evaluated everything there was to her acting, he did not move an inch. With his mind still blank he gasped in slow motion. He could now see how she turned away, how she trembled trying to stay stiff. He reached out for her, slowly not to scare her out. The air felt so dense, the inches he had to make almost gave him cramps. After what it felt like forever he pulled a single strand of her hair back, but it slipped out right away. It did however make her look in his direction. She didn't fight the bangs. It gave her some comfort. Shielded her from all this. She noticed he didn't look as mad as she imagined, but didn't dare to move any further. He did not break the eye contact, but stared intensely. Trying to read her mind. But it was too late for that. Communicating would require ability to use words, which he surely didn't have at hour this late. He gathered her hair once again, not letting it out this time. As he brushed it aside and his fingertips met her ear. Her cheeks flushed instantly under his glare. She wanted to move away, but he run his fingers through her hair, resting it at her neck. He leaned closer once again, not looking away. She was nothing like he had ever seen her. Fragile. Quiet and crumbly. He kissed her. Unable to resist anymore. Afraid she'd run away. It was not the gentle, shaky way again. Started not completely certain, he forced himself more and more, tangling her hair around his slender fingers.
All her worries fled away as well. As soon as she felt assured, when he cut the pleasantries, when he felt so primarily attracted, she got up on her knees, never parting their lips. She turned now facing him, panting heavier and heavier, stopping herself from making any more noise. She sat on his lap, pushing him slightly against the wall. She felt her bare thighs against his jeans, she slid her tiny hands framing his athletic arms, up his neck, back his head, front his jaws. She could feel his bones moving right under her fingertips, she could feel his muscles flexing right where their bodies touched. The lust took over her every sane thought. Only thing she had in mind was hearing him gasping like that, feeling his warm hands down her sweaty back, his tongue pressing hers.
He was no better. This is definitely not what he should be doing with a drunk girl he was supposed to look after. But he just couldn't stop himself. The tender feel of her nails trailing up his neck. The pressing weight of her hips on top of his. Her silky-soft skin brushing at his cheeks.
He run his hands down her back. He traced blades of her shoulders, line of her spine, her narrowing waist. When he felt the stitching of her airy top, he folded it between two of his fingers, and stroked her flushing skin lightly causing goose bumps. He felt the air trembling at his chin. Nevertheless she didn't stop nor slow down. She run her hands down his chest, wrinkling his tee in rush, then slipped under the fabric and came back up painstakingly trailing rock hard muscles on his body. Sweaty, tanned skin tensing under her touch. The shirt rolled up on her wrists when she finally reached his rigid shoulders. He then helped her and pulled the sleeves off. She backed for just a second, gloating upon his stretching arms. The cloth wasn't yet on the floor when she clang onto him once again. Her breaths shallowed, she was dizzy, lacking of air, but it the urge took over her every instinct and kissing him, touching him, seeing him seemed more important than breathing in. He now pushed her away, even though she did oppose. He looked deep in her eyes. Sparkling, trusty eyes. She gasped given time. The haste went away. They felt peaceful, at ease. Time dragged again. The silent room filled with their heavy breaths and lazy blinking. When she finally came back to her senses the rosy pink blush took all over her face. She couldn't keep with the stare, so she looked away bit ashamed. Not that she felt guilty, or regretful, it was just something in her gut making her feel wrong about all that. Wasn't she too possessive, too selfish? But God it felt so good. She smiled at herself and looked back up at him.
Right when she turned away his weary mind was battered with questions and doubts and guilt. Did he just use her? Did he hurt her? Would she still trust him? Would they still talk after this? And then he noticed her turning back with… a smile? She giggled silently and he puffed with relief. God, what a fuss with this girl. In a blink of an eye his hands were placed on sides of her face, gently lying it in a subtle yet firm hold and he leaned forward lowering his head so their foreheads touched again then kissing her upper lip with almost no strength. He could feel corners of her mouth rising uncontrollably in a fluttery kind of way. She then pouted them and the house was filled with echoing click of their joining lips back again.