He looks across the room and finds her, and she's already looking at him. Amethyst orbs that he can't help but get lost in, that melt him and see, truly see him like no others can. His breath catches in his throat, and he forces himself to look away.
He feels his wife's hand settle on his underneath the dinner table, and he suddenly remembers where he is.
Exhale.
When his eyes disconnect from hers she tries to find anything else to look at, anything else besides her husband who she can feel staring at her, close enough to feel his body heat wash over her in agonizing waves.
She wonders how things wound up like this, and pretends to be interested in whatever is on the television.
Eventually the atmosphere changes as the children get put to bed, the wine comes out and drinking games commence. Things seem normal, bearable, if only for these short lived moments.
But then it happens again, by chance, their laughter mingles and their eyes meet and the moment is fleeting and their hearts are pounding and all Ichigo wants to do is grab her and kiss her the way he never kisses Inoue, and touch her like no one is watching. But someone is watching, always watching.
She wonders if Renji ever notices the tension in the room, the way her and Ichigo's reiatsus intertwine once they get within arms distance of each other, doing what their physical bodies cannot. Then she thinks that there's no way in hell that he doesn't, and her heart drops to her stomach and she winces.
Orihime mentions needing a babysitter for the morning, and Rukia briefly wonders if she too eagerly offers herself as tribute. The auburn eyed woman chirps with thanks and tells Rukia she's welcome to the couch, or one of the many guest rooms the all too empty house has to offer. Renji offers to stay but Rukia insists that the mountain of paperwork on his desk back home desperately needs attention, and her bargain of Byakuya's anger sells him.
Inoue bids the pair goodnight, leaving Ichigo with a kiss upon his forehead and Rukia with a warm, soft hug that's filled with something more, something Rukia is too much of a coward to read into. It's almost enough to make her feel guilty for what she knows is about to happen. What on some level, they all know is about to happen.
He walks the small shinigami to his old room, which now serves as his study, and where he goes to lock himself away from this reality. From this life. None of this is mentioned, because it doesn't have to be. Rukia can see the way the closet serves as a time capsule, untouched for what must have been 10 years. She turns to him and opens her mouth to speak, but before she can his hand is cupping her jaw like a steel trap and his mouth was on hers like a moth to the flame.
She coos into their kiss and leans heavily into his touch, her legs entangled around him as he pins her against the sliding closet door. She never was good at resisting him and she's too fucking tired to pretend this isn't what she'd been waiting so long for.
The way her finger tips curl in his hair sends shivers down his spine, and he remembers just how much he has missed her touch. His desperation for her grows and he tugs at her dress, a silent demand that she wordlessly complies to. Her bare breasts fit perfectly in his hands, and he squeezes and massages them with just the right roughness, his thumb gently circling her taut nipples. She moans into his ear and he throbs against her warmth.
She whimpers like a cat in heat under his touch, writhing and mewling as he slips a finger into her wetness. She arches against him and rocks her hips in unison with his thrusts. Yet, her eyes sting with tears.
"I-Ichigo," she begins between pants, "we shouldn't be doing this, your wife is in the-"
but she's cut off as he slams her onto his old bed, and begins eating her like a man starved, and a man starved for her he has been. She looks down at him and catches his eyes, steady and serious. They say, "Don't talk about her, not here, not now. We have all of our lives to regret this." and she gives into him like she always has.
He fucks her into the mattress until she forgets where they are, what time it is, what reality this is and the only thing she can remember is the sweet scent of him and the way his body molds so perfectly into hers. She kisses his shoulders and his neck until her lips go numb and he shivers from the pleasure of her gentle touch without waver. Tears sting at his eyes and finally he loses all control, pouring himself into her and onto her as the tears begin to over flow.
Rukia comforts him and holds onto him for dear life, and they stay like that until they both succumb to exhaustion.
When she wakes up, her arms are empty but she can feel Ichigo's presence from the doorway. He leans against the door frame, and she wonders what time it is. Frantically she looks for her dress, only to find it's already been slipped onto her. How in the...?
"We fell asleep. I took care of it." was all he said, and Inoue walks by the room but doesn't say a word. Rukia gives Ichigo a questioning look but he just shrugs.
Did she... Did she know?
Guilt knives at Rukia's gut like a jagged blade, and she fights the urge to throw up all over the sheets her and Ichigo had just dirtied.
Rukia lets the children sleep in as she paces the downstairs of the Kurosaki household, and she wonders how she'll ever face the light of day again. Tears well in her eyes and she finally lets herself fall apart, cursing herself and Ichigo for the choices they made. How did things end up this way? She sobbed in the kitchen for what felt like eternity. When she finally dried her eyes, she felt Ichigo's presence bursting in through the front door.
Before she can ask him what he was doing home so early, he grabs her by the shoulders and said the words she'd only dreamed about hearing for the last 10 years. Her heart caught in her throat.
"Rukia, I did it. I left Orihime."