Sorry, sorry, sorry I had to delete and repost 'cause I forgot some important stuff (like the disclaimer)
Rated: T for language mostly
Warnings: None...yet...
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach sighs
My first fanfic so be nice. Enjoy! XD
"Urahara-san, what is the meaning of this?" the Quincy politely demanded, banging a pale fist against the thick stone door, alongside an equally over-zealously door-pounding Ichigo.
"Oy! Urahara! This isn't funny! I've got better things to do than spend a week in this stupid room with a stupid, pig-headed, overbearing, ass!"
Ishida scowled and glowered at the offensively outraged shinigami but said nothing as the more important matter at hand was the one that threatened to attack him with mindless panic. Urahara had taken it upon himself to lock the two quarrelsome teens in an underground reiatsu-shielded room, which he had of course built himself overnight for the specific purpose of providing a comfortable parlor to chat in or a place they could fight in and not kill each other or break free of.
"I must insist. You two will either make up and see eye to eye before I'll let either of you out of there," he chimed with his usually trilling speech through the door, "You've no reason to worry, though, I've provided every comfort for you two to be able to make peace and enjoy yourselves in the lap of luxury." If he had been able to see him, Ichigo knew Urahara would be grinning like a fool, holding that stupid fan over his annoyingly unreadable visage. Ichigo wanted to punch through the wall just so he could smack the stupid grin from its smug little perch on the blond man's face.
Too goddamned bad it was school break and his father didn't give a shit where he was, Ishida thought, no one would even know he'd been kidnapped. He also knew enough about Ichigo's family that he wouldn't be expecting any help, due to Isshin's 'hands-off' child-rearing technique. They were shit out of luck, as the phrase goes. He sighed.
Ichigo noticed he was left banging in solitude and turned to see Ishida fall into a very over-stuffed couch with a small 'humph' of air being forced from fluffed cotton cushions. He scowled at the surrender and pounded with renewed vigor and a fresh string of curses and threats. He knew Urahara was already gone but he couldn't accept the horrific situation as maturely as Ishida apparently could, just yet, not when he was so pissed at the guy.
It started rather innocently two weeks ago when Ichigo had offhandedly invited Ishida to lunch, as he sometimes did, just for kicks, but when the Quincy gave his usual polite, "I refuse," the answer held a degree of cold malice that made Ichigo both annoyed and confused. When inquiring as the cause of the sudden vehemence Ichigo received an accusing icy glasses-glare that suggested his ignorance was unacceptably typical and shortsighted. As Ichigo later learned, for he was indeed ignorant at the time, Ishida had been plagued with very strange feelings that he insisted were brought on by Ichigo's unconscious flirting. Not usually one to be highly aware of his friends' innermost emotions, Ichigo had been persistent in his denial of any such playful activity toward the archer, not realizing until too late that the accusation was Ishida's way of letting Ichigo know how he might or might not feel about him—in that way.
Since then things between them had become exponentially hostile. The pair were prone to argue bitterly over any little thing they vaguely disagreed on, until at one point late one recent evening the two happened to meet while tracking the same hollow. The execution became a contest between the adrenaline-filled boys. Once said hollow was extinguished and the two naturally disagreed as to who was the victor, they were reduced to bellowing incessantly at one another in the middle of the dark, deserted alleyway. Their commotion finally dulled as icy and flaming daggers were flung from Ishida's and Ichigo's eyes, respectively. The two were a curse away from trading blows. Luckily Urahara was nearby to intervene.
The sneaky and ever-shifty Urahara, after having witnessed such a scene, decided to do what he does best and interfere on their behalf, for their own good of course. He had no concrete evidence as yet but he suspected the boys were equally dishonest with themselves and one another on the subject of just how they viewed, or would like to view, their relationship. Thus the devious scheme was hatched!
"GOD DAMN URAHARA OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW, YOU JERK!" Ichigo bellowed one last time before giving in with a final frustrated punch to the door and collapsing onto the nearest seat in defeat with a huff. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temple, scowling.
"You just wait 'til I get outta here, you presumptuous bastard," he muttered to himself.
He heard a sigh and glanced up, his scowl somewhat reinforced by his anger, and glared at a lounging Ishida. He had kicked off his annoyingly stylish shoes and sunk his thin frame into the plump cushions, looking utterly relaxed.
"Oy, aren't you gonna say something smart-ass like 'I told you so' or some shit?" Ishida ignored him. "Oy, I'm talkin' to you, goddammit! Least you can do is gimme a response, unless you like having the shit kicked out of you!" Ichigo didn't remember why he felt like hurting Ishida but he suddenly realized how very much unlike him it was to want to inflict pain, even if it was on the pompous wise-ass. He reconsidered his anger, seeking the root of his hatred. He couldn't remember.
"Are you such a blithering idiot that you will continue to escalate this predicament, furthering our confinement, by holding a stupid grudge that you probably don't even remember the original cause of?" As usual, Ishida's intuition had hit the nail on the head. This only made Ichigo angrier, though he knew he was right. He couldn't help but bristle at the cold, arrogant tone.
"Well forgive me if I'm not the sensitive fucking pansy you are," he began, "excuse me for being a real guy, ya whiny little brat!"
Before Ichigo felt the rush of air pass him the Quincy had Ichigo's throat in his firm, punishing grip. Harsh, unforgiving glasses glared down at the startled boy. Ichigo felt his grip on reality begin to blur as Ishida's powerful thumb blocked the main passage of blood to his over-heated brain. Ishida let go just as Ichigo's eyes fluttered, almost closing. Although his fury had by no means abated, he had no intention of becoming a murderer. He stepped back, fuming but already resentful of his hasty, violent action.
As Ichigo gasped and reddened with the return of cerebral blood flow, his lips curled into a feral snarl. He leaped upon the unsuspecting boy and flung them to the lusciously carpeted floor. Ishida's glasses flew askew as they toppled in a heap. A soft 'oof' pushed through the pale lips upon impact. Ishida was so shocked that for the nonce his anger dissipated, replaced by confusion and fear. How had a simple misunderstanding come to this, he thought, desperately trying to understand how two friends could become such enemies in such a short time. He must've had a pretty pathetic look on his face, the way Kurosaki wasn't smashing his face in at the moment, but rather, looking rather confusedly down from his awkward stance astride Ishida.
Ichigo watched as the melancholy confusion on the features below him turned to self-loathing and sorrowful regret. That sucked whatever fire remained in the pit of hate from him. He adopted his own look of forlorn as he retreated from over the stilled boy, sitting back on his legs and looking ashamedly away. He felt like such a jerk.
"Kurosaki, I owe you a long overdue apology from that day at lunch," Ishida quietly confessed, "And I won't keep trying to hate you because I can't face... I'll understand if you hate me, but I won't fight you anymore."
Ichigo didn't raise his head or look at Ishida, didn't respond at all. He knew how he felt but he couldn't face it, either. He'd wanted to just pretend it was some stupid phase and let it go away but when it just got worse he got angry and he took it out on the reason he felt so confused. He looked up at the magenta-colored wall and sighed. He stood and walked away from the prone form he'd come to want so badly, especially in the middle of the night when he'd had one of those dreams. But it wasn't just physical. Ichigo had wanted to spend more and more time just talking with the bespectacled boy, about everything or nothing, he didn't care, as long as he got to hear that melodious voice chatting idly to him. It made him feel at peace just to be in the archer's presence. He especially loved hearing the little things Ishida let slip out about how he felt when something happened to him or just what he did the other day. It wasn't infatuation or puppy-love, he knew. It was love.
Standing as he was, lost deeply in his thoughts, he didn't notice when the Quincy stood and gingerly approached him. He almost cried out in surprise when he felt a delicate hand slide over his shoulder tentatively. Ichigo slowly turned and looked into those beautiful pools of azure light. The vulnerable look of questioning made Ichigo's heart melt in his heaving chest. He was so sure he would be hurt if he tried to love Uryuu. He couldn't bear that. But he couldn't bear that look, either.
"Ichigo," but whatever heartfelt words Ishida had prepared were silenced as Ichigo raised a shaking hand to stroke his angular face. Ishida sighed and closed his eyes at the gentle touch, leaning into the unexpected warmth. The hand glided through silky black hair to rest at the back of Ishida's head, holding it for the even more unexpected kiss that followed. Ishida knew Ichigo would be nice to kiss but he had no idea how tender and inviting those lips could be.
"Mmm..." Ishida sighed into the kiss, parting his lips to deepen the kiss, wishing it would never end, feeling the blissful elation he'd scolded himself for dreaming of a thousand times. He leaned into the firm warmth of Ichigo's body as strong arms encircled his waist. When Ichigo added his dexterous tongue to the equation Ishida felt his knees weaken and clasped onto the taller boy's shoulders to keep himself from collapsing to the floor in mild ecstasy. His body began to shiver from the close contact and sheer wonder of the situation. Ichigo clasped tightly to Ishida to help steady him and smirked at the very positive affect his inexperienced, but attentive, mouth was having on the magnificent boy.
When the kiss did finally end it was all Uryuu could do not to whimper in disappointment. They locked eyes and spoke volumes to each other in seconds, leaving no doubt about the depth their love reached. To the moon and back, that look said.
Uryuu rested his head against Ichigo's shoulder, willing his heart not to burst with this feeling, but to use it to grow and expand, all the better to fill it up with Ichigo.
All those stupid fights had been masking this. They were such idiots.