And we have some Bleach. A good addition to diversify a small fanfiction collection such as mine. And a straight couple. What a good start for me. But then again, IchiRuki is too hard NOT to like.
DISCLAIMER: if I owned Bleach there would be many gratuitous scenes for couples that should go to together but are never near each other except for like two chapters. Ergo GanjuHana… IkkaYumi (But they're always together, so….CANNON) and of course…um…you know…those…two people….with the arms…
Enough. Now, enjoy.
-Pour Vou Yeux Seulement-
For your eyes only
Preface
Her thighs didn't touch as she walked. They were mercilessly clad in striped red and brown pants, and…they didn't touch; not a whisper of the fabric rubbing together was ever heard. It made his brain sore to think about such an anomaly.
Her shirt was too short to reach their demin waist line. The blouse ebbed like a yellow ocean, teasing the small and ever elegant…butt dimples… that graced the pleasant curvature of the small of her back. Ichigo had never felt more jealous of a sweater vest in his life – then again, he didn't really find himself holding grudges with articles of clothing all too often, but -
God, that butt.
It was the beginning and end of all the greatest asses ever to be on the planet. They broke the mold of the Model T when they made her rear bumper.
When a foot lifted itself from the ground, bloody miracles happened in those jeans. She wore no belt – an ever exasperating habit she tended to follow. The waist would ride up with every antagonizing step – Ichigo swore up and down, left and right, and ten ways from Sunday that with each step, each and every mind blowing step that hit the sidewalk, her magnificent feature of a butt would find a new way to make him shaky in the parts of himself he hadn't dealt with yet.
His senses would electrify and burn out like a Christmas light bulb when she would gracefully float about him in a quaint summer dress - Always hinting at her thighs; those ever elusive, thin, come-and-get-me-but-don't-touch-me thighs.
When the occasion arose and Rukia found herself in a pair of jeans, Ichigos' mind instead pulled a 360 and immediately went on the deep fry and sizzle.
Pour Vou Yeux Seulement
-Let the Torture Begin-
Today was one of those days.
A warm early October breeze swept over the afternoon as he and Rukia walked home from the Urahara Shoten. Rukia had some how managed to get him to come along and Ichigo still wasn't quite sure how she did it.
She was saying something about a funky pink device she had ordered but her words fell on deaf ears. He was too focused on trying not to stare at her marvelous little form sway down the street.
Key word: trying.
Ichigo attempted to put his brain elsewhere; dead kittens, Kenpachi at a ballet recital, Isuzu and Karen playing soccer, hell, he even tried nuns.
And then his brain decided that Rukia would look smashing dressed as a nun. Because that was what was going to top off Ichigos' day – overly active teenage hormones mixed in a deadly contail with the girl that lived in his closet…and an overly active imagination. Can't forget that.
Needless to say, the walk was torturous for Ichigo.
And it became worse when they passed by a small park in which Rukia came to the idea that she'd like to play in. So, of course, Ichigo abided and they accosted the swing sets like the Black Plague to Europe.
Ichigo managed to keep up with the conversation to a passable extent. He only faltered when their swinging rhythm wavered and they were sent swinging in opposite directions.
Her shirt tail fluttered up and down with the gusts of wind provided from the swing. Her hair, the same. Ichigo was fairly sure his face was red when se looked back with a smile lighting her face.
Ichigo looked away and brushed his feet on the gravel below to bring himself to a stop. His head popped up when he heard a shrill 'woo'. There was no other word for it.
Rukia flew from her swing and was sent flying through the air. The gravel crunched unpleasantly (His brain helpfully supplied that it was fairly akin to cufflinks going up a vacuum cleaner) when she landed on her hands and knees some several feet away. Why, were there any children playing the park at the same, they should be in shock and awe.
Rukia got up as if nothing happened and bent over to pant down her now dirty knees. Seeing as it was too much for Ichigo to handle (She must have been doing it on purpose) he managed to fall backwards and land with a spectacularly rivaling noise of his head hitting the gravel.
He closed his eyes and sighed; he let his legs fall from the seat.
And then he heard cufflinks going up a vacuum cleaner…Or maybe it was nails going down a garbage disposal. Hell, gravel didn't sound very good. He opened his eyes to see Rukia standing above him with a coy smile.
He rolled his own and looked away.
She giggled and promptly sat on top of his chest cavity. Not the most comfortable of places but it would have to do.
His fingers slipped over her knees and rested happily atop her denim clad thighs.
Their lips met.
La Fin
A/N: grumbles I feel as though this was rushed. I like it but I don't like it. Tell me what yall think.
Pressing the Go button will not make you burst into flames. Just to clear up the controversy.