Knock, Knock. Who's there?
Ikkaku was a straight-forward kind of guy.
When he drank, he did so to get drunk. When he wanted to start a fight, he tried to cut off your arm. When he swore, he did so for the sake of it. When he fucked up, he used violence as a solution; when violence didn't work, he simply assumed that he wasn't using enough. He shouted frequently, ate like a pig, and threw his dirty clothes on the floor, so it wasn't any surprise really, how stupidly he approached his first relationship, and that fact kept him from being the one to tell the story for years afterwards. Yumichika was better with story-telling anyways.
It had been a long week, and the sad part was that it was only half-way over. As was customary on hump-day, Ikkaku came home from work late in the day, almost past dinner time. He had done drills since dawn, training new recruits until his knuckles were bleeding. The cafeteria had been out of meat earlier, and to make matters worse, the men who were on cleaning duty for the bathrooms had been stumbling around like idiots, making Ikkaku suspect that it was that time of year again. That time of year when the drug dens had made their rounds through the Rukongai, finally making it to the districts closest to Seireitei.
Every single year there was always some poor idiot who hadn't been informed of this, and ended up drugged and robbed or something, or worse groped because of the idiots who bought the drugs and passed it around. Of course, Ikkaku and all his close friends had been around long enough not to leave their drinks unattended regardless of the time of year, so he never really worried about seeing Renji stumbling around half-dressed. He worried more about Kira, who had gotten 'got' so many times that he was overly-paranoid about his food all year long.
Ikkaku shrugged, spitting, before stepping into shunpo, jetting home and barging in unceremoniously. He had to piss before heading to get some dinner. Then he'd meditate, take a shower, put his sword away, and finally drink himself to sleep.
He threw his yukata on the floor, going into the bedroom and putting his zanpakutou on its special rack. He saw that Yumichika wasn't home yet; he was probably still doing paperwork at the office.
Yumichika had been acting weird lately… Well not noticeably weird, but Ikkaku was getting this weird feeling in his gut telling him he should pay more attention to what Yumichika was doing, but he didn't get why.What the hell was so interesting about whatever Yumichika did with his free time, anyway? If Ikkaku had decided to spy on him or something, all he'd probably catch him doing would be doing his nails and prancing around doing that fucking sparkling nonsense. What the hell was he worried about?
Fuck his denial, he knew damn well what he was worried about.
Who cared if Yumichika was probably going to hook up with Hisagi Shuuhei any day now? Not him, certainly. Not Madarame Ikkaku, who was unattached and brutish, he who didn't give two shits about people's feelings or whoever his best friend decided to sleep with. Who gave a fuck if Yumichika wanted to be involved with that guy?
Shuuhei was a nice guy, anyways. He and Ikkaku had been friends for a long time, even if Shuuhei was too stuffy at times. Ikkaku shouldn't be worried about a thing. It wasn't like Hisagi would play Yumichika or something. He was a good kid; too good, almost. He was good-looking, smart, a good writer, etc. He was a law-abiding shinigami with a level head, and he was nice. The only downside was that he was kind of a chicken when it came to going all out in a fight or breaking the rules, not to mention his crappy guitar playing.
Ikkaku didn't kid himself. He had seen how they'd been looking at each other, and it made sense that Yumichika and Hisagi would get together. They'd been making eyes for ages, it was high time they got together. Ikkaku knew that. He knew that they'd be good together, that Yumichika and Hisagi would be happy together and have a smooth sailing relationship or a fling or an affair or whatever Yumichika would call it. Shuuhei would be good for Yumichika.
So… Why did it just ache?
Something pissed him off about them being all over each other, and he didn't get why at all. He only got this feeling when he couldn't have beer and had to watch other people drink it. He couldn't pinpoint it, and his strategy had been to ignore it, because it wasn't his fucking business whether or not Yumichika was sleeping with the guy, or had intentions of doing so. Yumichika's conquests were none of his business, and Yumichika reminded him of that whenever he got a little too nosy. They'd had a deal that as long as Yumichika didn't bring them home or sleep with them at the house, Ikkaku had to stay out of it.
Still, it pissed Ikkaku off more for some reason, that it was Shuuhei Hisagi that Yumichika was fooling around with. It never bothered him when it was some faceless handsome loser that Yumichika didn't have a history with or feelings for, or some tough jock with a submissive streak. Somehow, Shuuhei Hisagi had an identity, or some sort of chance of tying Yumichika down. Yumichika's eyes sparkled when he looked at Hisagi, and Ikkaku could feel that this was more than physical attraction between the two of them. Hisagi could really steal Yumichika away. Who would clean his room if Yumichika moved out? Frick.
Ikkaku shrugged, thinking back on the drug lords; maybe Yumichika was planning on getting some of that stuff and doping Hisagi up so that his honorable-ness would fade enough for Yumichika to have his way with him, but knowing Yumichika, he would be way ahead of that, not even needing any of that stuff to wile the most frigid of men out of their clothes.
Hopefully the pretty boy would be back soon; he was starving, and didn't want to go to eat dinner yet without him. He needed to bitch about his day, which Yumichika often took the liberty of doing. Today, Ikkaku was in need of a good bitching. Today had sucked. He ached in places that had long since seen better days.
He sauntered over to the bathroom, noticing that the door was partially open, so he nudged it open, and then his eyes went wide. He just stood there staring at Yumichika, who was reading a magazine, still in his uniform, sitting on the toilet. How long had he been here? Oh… This, this was awkward.
Ikkaku coughed, averting his eyes, "Hey, uh-
Yumichika jumped and looked up with horror, immediately freaking out and throwing things at him. "Get out, Get out!" He hit Ikkaku in the face with a roll of toilet paper, and Ikkaku backed out, shutting the door quickly, face red.
"Geez, I'm sorry, you- Ugh," Ikkaku put his face in a hand, trying to get rid of the image of those silky legs, crossed over each other most enticingly. "The door was open, so I thought... It's your fault for not locking it!" he shouted, getting heated in his own defense.
"No one was home!" Yumichika screeched.
"Sheesh, don't get yer' panties in a bunch," Ikkaku griped, only to get a faceful of underwear when Yumichika opened the door and hurled them at him.
"You can go piss in the sink for all I care, you graceless lout!"
"Fine, fine," Ikkaku grumbled, unhooking the underpants from his ear. They were purple and… oh, they smelled nice. These must've been what Yumichika had been planning on changing into after his shower.
"I was just wantin' ta' tell ya', they say the drug lords are makin' their rounds again, so be careful who ya' eat next to."
"Or what?" Yumichika asked snidely, and rhetorically, the little brat. Ikkaku heard the toilet flush, and the rustle of clothes as Yumichika changed into his bedtime yukata… Was he going to spend the rest of the evening without his underwear on? Ikkaku got a pleasurable jolt in his groin that freaked him out a little. Yikes, he didn't like Yumichika like that! He couldn't have Yumichika thinking he was rooming with a pervert. Thoughts like that about his best friend? Shoo, get out of here! They weren't welcome at all!
"Or, ya' know, yull' get drugged and dragged into an alley or somethin'," Ikkaku said with little censorship, refraining from saying that Yumichika couldn't take care of himself, because that wasn't true, of course. Yumichika could kick major ass, and was as serious as Rangiku was about people who tried to take advantage of them or get a little too handsy without permission.
"What," Yumichika said with a scoff, kicking the door open while he combed his hair in front of the mirror, taking his feathers off carefully. Then he started washing his face with a washcloth, legs sliding over each other innocently enough, but the motion looked sensuous to Ikkaku.
Ikkaku then found that he couldn't stop staring at them, wondering how soft they would feel if he tried to touch them. Yumichika didn't shave very often as far as he knew, because his hair was so baby-fine. Ikkaku could see hair there on his legs, but it was fine and sparse, looking very soft. His skin seemed to glow against the near-sheer fabric of Yumichika sleeping-yukata.
He blinked, noticing that he had gotten hard as he listened to the rest of Yumichika's snarky comeback. 'Did I zone out for a second there? Oh right, listen to the little bitchy snobby brat, he's talking.'
Ikkaku couldn't help but smile; he complained a lot about the way Yumichika never shut up, but truth be told, he loved to hear Yumichika talk, even if it was pointless shit. The dumb fuck. The only thing that bothered him was that Yumichika's beauty was getting to him again, making him feel stuff that he wasn't supposed to. What if he started sleep-talking again and said something inappropriate? That would not be good.
"What, are you afraid of me getting knocked up? How sweet."
"Shut up," Ikkaku growled, leaning in the frame of the door awkwardly as he waited for Yumichika to get done fooling around in front of the sink. He knew damn well that he could make it to the public bathroom quicker than Yumichika was going to be done, but something kept him here.
"Ya' remember when that happened ta' Kira, when Ichimaru didn't warn him about it? Just be fuckin' careful, there's shit goin' around, and our divisions fulla' thugs, let's face it."
"They know better than to make a direct move on their superior, lest I cut their dicks off," Yumichika said oh-so-eloquently. Ikkaku rolled his eyes, replying just as sarcastically.
"Careful. It's hard to cut off someone's dick if you're doped up."
"That remains to be seen, Ikkaku. I'll have a chance to practice that if you don't take a shower soon. You could stun a yack just by raising your arms."
Ikkaku gave a long-suffering sigh. He knew when to quit when he was ahead, or behind, rather. "Oh shut up, ya' stupid fuck. I'm goin' ta' eat dinner. You comin'?"
"No, I think I'll turn in early. I'll see you in the morning."
Renji stood awkwardly outside of the bathhouse in line, the only guy without a towel or soap in hand. He wasn't planning on taking a soak. No, he was looking for someone who'd been rumored to have come to Seireitei this morning: Kurosaki Ichigo, the man he'd been making dovey eyes at for months.
He was quitting with being a chicken, because he'd heard rumors that someone else was gonna' try to snatch the kid up before he could, so he'd just go in there and spit it out as soon as he saw him. There would be two outcomes: Either Ichigo would castrate him, or Ichigo would let him take him to lunch.
The people in line were staring at him and standing up a little too straight, given the fact that lieutenants didn't usually come to share in the public bath. Their quarters had built-in bathrooms, so to see a high-ranking officer here seemed to have surprised the idiots.
Renji grew anxious and shoved in front of a bunch of people, barging into the changing area, looking around. After going down a few of the corridors, passing by cubbyholes that housed clothes and swords, he looked around, seeing nothing but sweaty men changing and clothes all over the wet concrete. After searching one last corner of the maze of changing rooms, he found his prize, what do you know, changing.
After spending a few seconds appreciating the view of Ichigo's wet nearly-naked body, Renji spoke up. "Hey, Ichigo." Ichigo was startled so badly that it nearly gave Renji a heart attack. That hadn't been the reaction Renji had hoped for.
An instant later, Ichigo punched Renji in the jaw out of reflex, beating him with a towel. Maybe he hadn't realized, but he'd been leaking enough spiritual pressure to keep everyone away from him. Maybe he'd been under the impression that the locker-rooms were empty, and hadn't recognized Renji right away, acting on instinct.
"God, don't you people knock?!" Ichigo shouted, embarrassed that Renji had surprised him.
"How am I supposed to knock, there's no freakin' door!"
"You could still tell a person that you're coming up on them!"
"Well, geez, what are you getting all bent out of shape about, anyway? It's a public bathhouse." Ichigo just glared at him. Renji looked at something on the floor, which was getting the concrete wet. It looked like a lump of wet fabric, but it didn't look like the white bathhouse towels. "Hey, what's that?"
"My swim-trunks."
"What? Wait, are you telling me you were the only one in the drink who wasn't naked?" Ichigo turned red, giving him another punch for good measure.
"What do you want, you asshole?!"
"Sheesh, Ichigo, I thought you'd be happy ta' see me for once. It's been awhile," Renji said, a little hurt. He'd thought that they were friends after all. Maybe he should just cut to the chase; he could see that the poor kid was embarrassed. Might as well put him out of his misery.
It wasn't really the right moment. Seriously, Ichigo had just hit him a couple times and was in his underwear, which were sticking to his wet legs just so. If a shouting, idiotic, hot-headed asshole was what got his heart all fluttery, then he was just screwed. He was so fucking screwed.
It wasn't the right moment; Renji knew that, but he also knew that would never be a 'perfect moment', so he just went for it.
'Well, here 'goes,' he thought nervously.
"So, I was thinkin'... Uh-" His attempt at asking Ichigo on a date was interrupted when Ichigo glared at him snarkily, talking right over him with that attitude that Renji liked so much. Renji liked a challenge, and Ichigo's constant arguing fed him like lighter fluid to a flame.
"What were you looking for me for, anyway?"
"I just said-" Renji cut himself off, rolling his eyes, "Look, I got something to ask ya'."
"Okay," Ichigo said, tying his hakama on awkwardly, and good lord did he look good in them with that slit going down his thigh. Of course, Ichigo didn't usually wear traditional clothing, and when he used his substitute-shinigami badge, he appeared already dressed, so he hadn't had to figure out the clothing pieces before. It seemed to take him a while to realize that the hakama looped in the back, but not in the front, so the sash had to be tied tight to keep the front flap from falling open. Renji just watched him fiddle around with it for a full minute before he got down to business, realizing that this was Ichigo's way of telling him 'I'm listening'.
Renji knelt down in a dogeza, fists on either side of his face, "Kurosaki Ichigo, will you go on a date with me?"
There was dead silence for three seconds, and Renji looked up, looking around. Nobody was around. Maybe their combined spiritual pressure was keeping everybody from coming back here, or it could just be their reputations of being hotheads and the fact that they argued like hell whenever they were near each other. People knew to either seperate them or leave them alone.
Renji then looked up to Ichigo, who hadn't said anything.
Ichigo was just staring right back at him, eyes round, face a mix of confusion, curiosity, and absolute revulsion. "What. The. Hell?!" Renji sighed, shoulders slumping in exasperation, knowing that Ichigo had probably scared a ton of birds away with that shout. Well, now everyone knew that he was here, if they hadn't been aware of it before, what with his reiatsu-suppression problem.
"I like ya'. So come on a date with me," Renji said plainly, knowing that it wasn't good to just beat around the bush when talking to Ichigo. This needed to be black and white... still, maybe he could've been a little less blunt. The kid looked like he'd seen a ghost... it's just a figure of speech.
"I mean… Uh, please," Renji amended, observing to see if that had changed Ichigo's mind. Ichigo started sputtering, still thinking that he was nuts or telling a bad joke. Renji rolled his eyes, dragging the now-fully dressed idiot out of the bathhouse.
"Whatever, Come on. Date time."
"What the fuck?! Where are you taking me?"
"I just said where! Maybe you'd hear me if you'd take your head out of your ass! What do you want for lunch?" Renji asked, transitioning so smoothly that Ichigo looked completely flabbergasted.
"Is this a joke?"
"Tch', in your dreams," Renji rolled his eyes. Well, maybe this was a joke. It wasn't like he was kidding, but this would probably be pretty fucking funny when they looked back on it later.
The punchline isn't supposed to hurt.