I seem to be in a Bleach-y mood lately. If I'm not reading Bleach, I'm watching it. If I'm not watching it, I'm making fan-art. If I'm not making fan-art, I'm reading Bleach-fics. And obviously since I'm not reading any right now, I'm writing one :P

AN: This is a continuation of my one-shot Peeps. It is not mandatory to read Peeps first, but it would help set up the scenario better if you did, plus it's a fun read! :)

This story is a bit more serious in nature than Peeps, but will contain humor (how can it not with Isshin and Kon meddling!) and a bit of mystery. Additionally, there will be material of a more mature nature and the rating will thusly reflect this.

Furthermore, I have decided to fit this fic within the current manga arc, though taking several liberties of my own need. Specifically, Rukia will be present, and this fic will likely diverge with future manga chapters, since I have no clue what Kubo will write :P

It won't be especially long, but it will be more than one or two chapters. Bear with me regarding updates. I will be in my last semester at my university this Fall and will be applying for graduation, sending out my résumé, and looking into moving in the earlier half of 2012. I know, it's crazy to be starting a new fic when I have all this going on but I gotta write it or it'll plague my mind!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, although I want to highjack it right about now so Ichigo can have his Rukia again.

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With a heavy sigh, Ichigo shut his bedroom door behind him. It had been one hell of a day. He was sure that he should be ecstatic that it was over, but the events of the day had taxed him in more ways than battling an endless barrage of hollows ever could. Hollows he could handle… his hormones were another story.

Propelled by what little energy he could muster, he shuffled his way over to his bed and flopped out on the mattress with another heavy sigh, limbs akimbo. He lay there in the silence of his room, staring at the ceiling and wishing that sleep would come to him. However, despite his body's fatigue his mind was a frazzled, jumbled, and very awake mess of confusion, frustration, and uncertainty. He tried to put what had happened earlier out of his thoughts. But the universe apparently derived a perverse sense of pleasure in watching him squirm, because his thoughts and memories of the day were like obnoxious neon signs. The kind that flash all bright and tempting.

The brightest one was Rukia.

With an irritated growl, he pulled his pillow out from under his neck, his head falling back suddenly due to the motion, and flung the plush article across his face. The stifling effect the pillow had over his senses was enough to distract the rush of memories and sensations that accompanied the thought of the petite shinigami before his body could betray him.

Shit. He damned his impulsiveness to Hell.

It had gotten him into this situation in the first place. His impulsiveness had fucked him over before on many occasions, but it had never left him in need of a...

He threw the pillow at the wall. He couldn't let his thoughts go back to that or he'd find himself with his hand down his pants once more, heeding the old man's advice to 'not torture himself.'

Dinner that evening had been agonizingly awkward. Karin just scowled at him, calling him 'a pervert who couldn't be bothered to suck face with his girlfriend in private.' He tried to defend himself, to no avail, by asserting that it had been private until the three of them showed up. Yuzu's regard towards him was no better. She wouldn't even look at him. Even worse than that, the old man kept unusually quiet, refraining from carrying on about his 'lovely third daughter' officially becoming a part of their family. Instead he would regard Ichigo with a knowing smirk every now and then.

It pissed him off.

Scrunching his eyes closed and raking his fingers though his hair he cursed his recklessness once more.

Despite his firm effort to put all these thoughts out of his head and pretend that nothing had ever happened, a treacherous seedling of a thought took root and grew with fervor. He wondered if Rukia was feeling as…he didn't even have a word for it. He seriously hoped that he hadn't damaged his friendship with her.

He just got her back.

It had only been a number of months since he began trying to re-establish his shinigami powers. Admittedly he had been skeptical of the purpose in bringing out and training his fullbring potential. Some of the training… methods… had him questioning why he had even agreed to it in the first place. But through that training he gradually began to feel, hear, and finally see things that he had been unable to for over a year.

The first time he saw her again was one evening after coming home from his job that he'd been neglecting in favor of his training. It was late and he hadn't even bothered turning on the lights. He had kicked off his shoes, peeled off his shirt, and was about to crawl into bed when an all too familiar presence made his breath catch. He had turned only expecting to find the faint outline of her familiar reiastu, but Rukia was there, in pajamas, perched in his closet as if she had never left.

They had had a brief but intense argument, starting with him demanding why she never visited, and ending with her defending that she had never even left. He had surprised her and himself when he pulled her into a strong embrace. He wasn't sure how to actually say how much he missed her, but he was sure she knew just from his action alone.

They hadn't had enough time to really assess their feelings on the whole situation because his father had burst into the room scooping up the petite and wide-eyed shinigami in a bear hug proclaiming how he had missed his lovely third daughter and how glad he was that she came back to Ichigo. Needless to say, the old man's celebratory antics had roused his sisters, who were annoyed at being woken up but happy at seeing Rukia again.

After that night, everything had sort of fallen into place as it had been before he lost his powers. Rukia was set up to room with the girls again. Kon, who had been free-loading on Urahara- much to the former captain's chagrin, came back overjoyed that Rukia was back to stay. He and Rukia fell back into a familiar pattern, with her pretending to be a returning high-school senior by day, taking over nightly patrols for the previously stationed shinigami, and training with him in their spare time as his powers continued to strengthen. Everything was practically back to normal.

Until that afternoon when he fucking kissed her.

And she left.

And he fucking let her. He'd been so damned stunned and scared that he didn't know what to do at the time. So he let her go.

Sure she said she'd see him later, and he knew that it had only been a matter of hours since she made her hasty retreat. But time felt like it was dragging slowly over him, smothering him with its omnipotence. And throughout that seemingly endless absence of her presence, the growing, niggling idea that she wouldn't come back festered in his mind.

He threw an arm across his eyes, blocking out the moonlight with another exasperated sigh.

Sleep couldn't come fast enough.

He was just drifting off to sleep when a shift in the mattress and a warm, slight weight settling across his lower abdomen sharply stirred him. In a jerky movement, he moved his arm away from his eyes and found an intense and familiar set looking back at him.

"Rukia…"

His ability to think coherently was effectively hindered by his sleepy-but-quickly-roused state and the object of his concern, currently straddling him.

"What are you…?"

His heart began racing as she leaned forward, soft, delicate fingers touching his lips into silence. Her eyes glittered with determination that was both familiar and completely new. She leaned closer, her lips nearly touching his own, taking the place of her fingers that were now sending warm tingles on their path down his chest.

"Kiss me more." She demanded in a breathy whisper before her lips captured his in a kiss he hadn't expected would happen again, much less so soon. He was stunned by her eagerness, his eyes wide and his lips unmoving, especially since the worry that he had ruined everything consumed his thoughts for the past few hours.

His shock didn't last for long.

Along with the warmth of her lips pressed against his, the branding heat from her hands on his chest, and the teasing moistness of her tongue seeking his own, Ichigo was lulled into a state of blissful abandon, reminiscent of his experience with the petite shinigami earlier that afternoon. His eyes had since closed as he lost focus on the world around him, Rukia and her oral ministrations being all that really mattered.

For every stroke her tongue made against his, he reciprocated with a sweep of his own. It became an intoxicating dance that grew with passion. He thought… well more like felt… that he could catch her off guard by using her own tactic and sucking her tongue just as she had done to him earlier that day. He indeed caught her off guard, but he inadvertently caught himself off guard as well for he had not expected her hips to shift so deliciously against his own while her teasing fingers traced their way up under his shirt sending shivers straight down to his…

His hands found their way from the silky hair at the nape of her neck to gripping firmly onto her hips. They barely had time to register the brevity of their situation when the door suddenly slammed into the wall.

"GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! You perv! Get your filthy paws off nee-san!"

Ichigo's shock was quickly subsumed by the irritating wail of the surprisingly strong plushie as it pummeled its stumpy little legs repeatedly into his face as if training for a marathon. But Ichigo didn't get the opportunity to wrangle the annoying mod-soul before Rukia seized the animate toy about the neck. If Ichigo hadn't shifted moods so quickly he may have noted with more clarity how appealing Rukia was still astride him, her hair all mused, her lips swollen from his kisses, and glaring daggers at Kon for his intrusion. He was not particularly keen towards the plushie at the moment either and grabbed its legs, intent on knotting the wretched things so that he wouldn't get trampled in the face again.

He and Rukia were so fixated on exacting their revenge on the lion toy, when several things happened at once.

"Ichi-nii! I heard shouting! What's wron…"

He looked to the still open door to find Yuzu standing wide-eyed and red-faced at him. Well… not just him, Rukia as well. The situation might have looked like the two had merely lost their minds fighting over a stuffed toy, except their position, their location, the skirt of Rukia's uniform riding dangerously high on her thighs, and his own shirt pulled up to expose his lower torso.

Karin was the next person to peer into his room.

"Geez, you guys are at it again? Can't you two find a time when no one's home to do that? The walls aren't that thick, you know…"

Ichigo couldn't help but sputter helplessly at his sisters. Fortunately, Rukia was quick to recover the situation.

"I was just…trying to get Yuzu's lion back…"

Or not.

"Riiiiiiiight…" Karin gave Rukia her typical 'you-gotta-be-kidding-me' look.

"Y-yeah…"

Rukia seemed to have her wits about her more than Ichigo did because she was able to pull the now limp plushie from his slackened grip. She slipped easily of his lap, straightening her skirt as she made her way to the door to accompany his sisters back to their shared room.

Karin cleared her throat with an abrupt cough as she quickly averted her eyes from him.

"Pervert."

He was searching his hindered mental capacity in order to come up with some sort of comeback to his sister's insult, but they were out of the room and had closed the door before he could utter a peep. He heaved what seemed like the hundredth heavy sigh of the night as he willed his body to release the tension that it had built up in the time that Rukia had entered his room till she had left it with his younger siblings.

Only, it was as he was relaxing that he realized that a different sort of tension still prevented him from relaxing completely. He peered down his body to see his very prominent arousal straining against his pants. It was also then that he realized exactly why Karin had chosen the particular insult for him.

"Fuck…"

Ten minutes and a clean pair of boxers later, several things occurred to Ichigo.

First, the old man hadn't come barging into his room when Kon practically raised the dead with his obnoxious wailing. He hadn't even come running when Yuzu called out to see what was wrong. Ichigo wasn't sure if he should be relieved or worried; relieved that his father hadn't burst into his room giving him and Rukia tips on which positions would guarantee the old goat grandchildren. And worried because his absence meant that he wasn't home, which could only mean he was up to no good.

Second, in the midst of the myriad of emotions that he had experienced that evening, Ichigo derived a great deal of satisfaction in knowing that Kon was now at the mercy of his little sister. It served the little bastard right for the stunt he pulled. Thinking back on it with a clearer head, Rukia was brilliant to come up the excuse she had given.

Rukia.

The last thing that Ichigo thought about before sleep eventually claimed him, was Rukia and her request to kiss her more. He realized that he was more than willing to oblige her whenever she wanted.

He also realized he wanted more.

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Please let me know what you think! Reviews and suggestions welcome!

*hugs!*

-Mel