Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its affiliates. Anything that you recognise is property of its respective owners. Any relations to persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Base/s: Bleach

Title: Cliché

Summary: Ichigo and Renji hear something interesting outside the Tenth Division office. Ichigo, for once, decides to be logical and finds out logic isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Music used for inspiration: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) – Eurhythmics, Bad Boy - Cascada

"Why are you here again?"

Ichigo gave his friend a flat look, indicating he thought the redhead was being thick.

"I told you dumbass, I need something signed by the Head Captain."

"But why?"

A vein ticked in the substitute's forehead.

"Because, I need clearance for some stuff. Duh."

Continuing their bickering, they walked down the corridors and dodged members of Squad Eleven who had been commissioned as scouts by Zaraki as soon as he heard Ichigo was in Soul Society.

"So I told him, I said, 'You look like a demented clown.' And then you know what he said? He said-"

Ichigo was half listening to Renji's story about pranking some member of the Third, and half trying to remember where they hell they were.

"Yeah yeah, that's nice and all, but where are we?"

Renji blinked and looked around.

"I think we're near the Eleventh."

"What?" Ichigo, quite frankly, panicked.

Spotting the insignia of the Squad Eleven (a sign that sent unpleasant shivers down his spine) to their left, he grabbed Renji and dragged him down the right hand corridor.

Puffing, he rested his hands on his knees as his friend rearranged his shihakusho and glared at the rough treatment.

Huff. "I think we're far enough away." Puff. "Where are we now?" Ichigo asked.

"Tenth." Was the grunted reply.

Hoisting themselves up, they shared a look and a slight snicker at themselves before walking towards what they hoped was the exit.

Seeing the insignia posted outside the office, Ichigo paused and decided to drop in on Toshiro and annoy him to near insanity.

Just as he was about to put his hand on the door knob, something made him stop. Renji looked at him oddly, apparently not having heard a thing. Ichigo shrugged and reached for the doorknob again. There it was again!

He stopped and motioned Renji to listen. The redhead gave him an odd look but leaned in and did so.

It was... giggling.

Ichigo reared back and stared at the door. Tentatively, he leaned back in. Yes, that was definitely giggling. High pitched, feminine giggling. Not so odd, Matsumoto was probably in there after all. For the third time he reached for the doorknob and was once again stopped by an odd noise.

Renji was looking slightly disturbed.

"C'mon, nobody'll know..." The female, identified as Matsumoto giggled again. Then her voice adopted a sultry tone. "Now, what do I have to do to persuade you...?"

Ichigo looked at Renji, Renji looked back. They shrugged and turned their attention back to the door.

"Ohh, that does feel nice. You're too good at this..." There was what sounded suspiciously like a moan, before the giggling resumed.

Ichigo was red in the face and a quick glance to his left showed him his friend was the same. But they didn't walk away.

"Right there... ohhh. Yeah, keep doing that-"

"Whoever she's with, he's a lucky bastard." Renji grumbled, Ichigo privately agreed. Said 'lucky bastard's voice then made an appearance.

There was a muffled chuckle, then,

"Shouldn't I be the one giving the orders?"

They recognised that voice.

"Oh my god..." Ichigo breathed, in shock.

"Ooh, only when we're in the office." Was the prim, teasing reply, which was made less proper by the moan that followed.

"Matsumoto, we are in the office."

Another giggle.

"We," pause, "shouldn't," another pause, "be doing," and another, "this here!" a masculine voice drifted through the door.

"I don't want to be hearing this!" Renji groaned, covering his ears, his cheeks as red as his hair.

"C'mon sir, live a little! Oh! And keep doing that..."

"What? You mean this?"

"Oh! Ooh, yes! That's it! Mmm, I think it's my turn now..."

"Keep your voice down! You'll get us caught and I do not want to be the one to explain everything to the Head Captain!"

"It's hard to keep quiet when you keep doing that..." A rather contented groan followed by Matsumoto's blissful voice. "Captain, did anyone ever tell you that you have magic hands?"

Renji had finally had enough. He reared back and stared at the door in horror.

"I did not need those images in my head! I can't believe they're doing that in there!" he wailed quietly.

Ichigo stood, stunned, staring into space. At his friends words, he seemed to snap back into reality.

"Wait!" he said sharply. Renji paused in his bemoaning of his poor, violated mind.

"Let's not jump to conclusions here! There could be an entirely innocent reason-"

"Innocent reason?" Renji hissed, his eyes narrowed. "They're fucking in the office! That's hardly what I'd call innocent!"

Ichigo felt his cheeks warm again at the 'F Word' and tried to banish the images it evoked in his head.

"I bet they're just... massaging! Yeah, that's it. He's just giving her a massage, that's gotta be it. Nothing remotely dirty going on at all. Nope, definitely not." He reasoned, sinking blissfully into denial.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Think about it. This is such a cliché! Two people happen to overhear something that sounds dirty and jump to conclusions, bust open the door and find something totally innocent going on and feel really awkward. Like they would ever get it on in the office." He reasoned, rolling his eyes to emphasise how unlikely it was.

Renji appeared it be thinking it over.

"You could be right." He said eventually.

"'Course I am." He said, more cheerful.

"On three?"

"Ready."

"One."

"Two."

"Three!"

They opened the door forcibly, ready to be greeted with the harmlessly amusing sight of the Captain of Squad Ten giving his Lieutenant a massage.

There was silence for a few moments, as Ichigo and Renji took in the sight before them. A rumpled looking Matsumoto, her back to them but twisted so she could stare incredulously, and bare of her shihakusho down to her hips, straddled a startled looking Hitsugaya who's hands were somewhere they didn't want to think about and whose own shihakusho was resting precariously on his shoulders.

Numerous red marks could be seen on both their necks and in Matsumoto's case, lower. They were saved from a full view of the Lieutenants assets by the fact that said assets were pressed rather firmly against the chest of the man she was straddling.

They stared at the intruders. The intruders stared back.

"Ichigo you asshole!"

"Oh my god. My eyes!"

End

Sorry, but I couldn't resist.