Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite.
Dedication: I did this for the birthday event at Five Lifetimes, One Love about a year or so ago. I have to thank AngelCat HellFire (EternalDream at FLOL) for being an outstanding beta: without her I'd be in my little corner, twiddling my thumbs and wondering what to do with myself.
Author's Note: Constructive criticism is welcome; flames, however, are not.
The bright summer sun's rays filtered through parted drapes, filling the room with its light. It danced across the walls, and seemed to radiate specially on a certain bleach-haired Shinigami, who was still quietly snoozing and would perhaps sleep the day away. That is, if not for the sound of the door opening and footsteps approaching the bed.
Ichigo didn't bother to open his eyes, or rather, didn't have time to, as Orihime quickly climbed into bed with him and nestled herself into his arms. He didn't have any complaints about the arrangement and snuggled her even closer by wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Good morning," she whispered in his ear.
"Mornin'," he groggily replied, turning his head and lightly kissing her on the cheek.
They stayed motionless on the bed for a while longer, enjoying the peace and tranquility of each other's presence. It was one of their favorite pastimes together, and times like these were what he liked the best.
"Do you know what day it is?" Orihime asked after some time had passed.
He lazily opened his eyes and arched an eyebrow.
"Should I?"
She giggled, "I think you should. It is your bir—"
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DADDY!"
The door swung open, and a small child bound over to his parents, attempting to jump on the bed in an effort to fully wake them up. It was a futile effort, however, as Ichigo caught his son while he was in midair and settled him gently on the bed.
"Sora," Ichigo sighed, "what have we told you about jumping on the bed?"
"But Daddy! Don't you know?" Sora questioned, "Jumping on the bed is the only way to get to the popcorn sticking to the ceiling!" Sora's face held an abundance of animation as he excitedly informed his parents of his reasoning.
"Pop… corn?" Ichigo said slowly.
He turned his head upwards, then to Orihime, giving her a questioning look. She put a hand over her mouth and giggled. He always seemed to make those funny faces of his, and they never failed to bring a smile to her face.
"I think he means the dry plaster," she said.
"Oh. Well, just make sure you don't eat it, Sora," Ichigo gave him a small smile.
"Roger!" Sora grinned.
"Hmm," he yawned. "I guess I should get up before noon…"
"Wait!" Sora shouted.
He jumped off the bed and slid to the door, but he suddenly halted before facing his parents again.
"Don't move," he commanded in an overdramatic expression.
Orihime and Ichigo looked at each other for a moment, and when they looked back toward their son he was gone. Only the thumps of his footsteps let them know he was still in the house. Finally, Sora reappeared, clutching something behind his back.
"You have to open your presents, right?" he asked.
"Sora, don't you think we should wait until Daddy is fully awake?" Orihime questioned gently.
"Yeah, but…" the little boy trailed off, furrowing his brows in a way he looked like the spitting image of his father. (Though his bright orange hair did help in the effect.)
Orihime looked at her son thoughtfully, smiled, and faced her husband.
"You don't have to ask," Ichigo smiled back.
Sora positively shined and, with an extra spring in his step, hopped onto his mother's lap to hand his dad the present he'd been keeping hidden.
"It's from Momma and me," he stated simply.
Ichigo held the small package in his hands, almost afraid to break it. Whatever "it" was. He felt a nudge at his arm, and caught eyes with Orihime. She gave him a reassuring smile and a silent, "Go on!" He sighed, and, very carefully, opened the gift.
It was a typewriter, but a newer one, not an antique. It had glimmering knobs and keys. Curiously, he poked one of the keys, and in return the machine made a small tack-like noise. A small smirk tugged at his lips.
"We thought it would be…" Orihime trailed off and twirled her wrist, searching for the right words before concluding with "…a more contemporary way to write."
She grinned, fully aware of the irony.
"It's more fun, too!" Sora exclaimed, reaching over the box and twisting the typewriter's knob.
It jerked and made a small grinding noise. Sora laughed, seeming to find something humorous about the machine. Orihime giggled, sharing her son's enthusiasm. Ichigo frowned a little, wishing he was in on the joke.
"Don't worry," Orihime whispered to him to keep from Sora's earshot. "I have another gift for you... tonight."
The couple blushed, slightly embarrased.
Seeing that their attention wasn't on him, Sora tugged on Ichigo's and Orihime's shirts. He had managed to crawl over from his mother's lap to his father's without them noticing and was now smiling up at them.
"Happy Birthday, Daddy," he said.
Orihime turned back to him and gave him a small peck on the lips.
"Happy Birthday, Ichigo," she said, her voice full of love.
Ichigo pulled Orihime and Sora into a tight hug, letting Orihime rest her head on his shoulder and adjusting Sora into a more comfortable position for all of them.
"Thank you."
Yes, it was times such as these that he liked best.