Author's Notes: Well, since I wrote a birthday fic for Yumichika, I figured I should write one for Ikkaku. Good thing I remembered it was November 9th, or I might have missed it altogether. Derp. You can read this independently from "Tanjoubi omedetou" (Yumi's birthday fic), though there is a reference or two to Yumi's birthday a couple months prior, as described in "Tanjoubi omedetou." They can be read separately or as a two-shot. Either way works for me.
As usual, Bleach and its characters don't belong to me. Yumichika and Ikkaku would be in it much more often if it did.
Note: There will be a glossary of Japanese clothing terms at the end of the story.
Private Party
By Annie-chan
Yumichika leaned toward his dressing mirror, gently pulling the skin under his eye downward with the fingers of his left hand while bringing a small brush up to his face with his right. In two smooth motions, each going from the corners of his eye to the center, he swiped the brush along his lash line. Switching hands, he repeated the motions with his other eye, then leaned back to look at himself, turning his head to view his handiwork from different angles. Satisfied, he smiled as he laid the brush in a dish to be cleaned, then screwed the lid back on the small round container of jet-black liquid eyeliner.
Before him sat an assortment of cosmetics, many of them from the living world. One day during the short period of time that he, Ikkaku, Hitsugaya-taichou, Matsumoto, Renji, and Rukia were masquerading as students at Kurosaki Ichigo's high school, Matsumoto had convinced him to go shopping with her, and one of the stores they had visited was a cosmetics shop. Matsumoto had sat him down and "given him a makeover" with some of the free samples, which drew many curious glances from the shop's other customers. Yumichika had been so pleased with the results—he had to admit that Matsumoto was a consummate makeup artist—that he had considerably lightened his wallet procuring a selection of the shop's best line of products. He hadn't minded the cost. Being beautiful could get quite expensive, after all.
Leaning forward again, he now brought a mascara brush to his eyes, smoothing the black liquid over his lashes. Today was a special occasion, so he had to look his best.
It was Ikkaku's birthday today. As his lover was not materialistic at all, Yumichika hadn't gotten him a gift. He was a hard person to shop for, not to mention Ikkaku had on numerous occasions told him that there wasn't anything he really wanted. Aesthetic gifts were wasted on him, and useful gifts didn't fit in well with his simple lifestyle. Sometimes Yumichika had presented him with a specially-wrapped package of a favorite food of his, but most of the time they just went out drinking with their friends. This endeavor ended badly just as many times as it ended well. When it ended well, Ikkaku often treated him to a memorable night in bed when they got home afterward. Ikkaku was a passionate lover to begin with, but with alcohol lowering his inhibitions even further, anyone sharing his bed was in for a very pleasurable experience, indeed. (Not that he'd take anyone other than Yumichika into his bed, though.) When it ended badly, they usually got home with Yumichika supporting almost all of Ikkaku's weight, his arm slung over Yumichika's shoulders as he leaned heavily against the slighter man. Blood would stain his clothes, as he had instigated a brawl with about four other guys. Yumichika would keep quiet about whether Ikkaku had won or lost, as Ikkaku likely wouldn't remember when he woke up the next morning.
This year, Yumichika had decided, would be different. Maybe, if he was lucky, it would establish a new tradition for Ikkaku's birthday. It wasn't that he didn't like drinking with their friends, but he thought that Ikkaku's birthday was too special a day to celebrate in such a commonplace way. Today was the day the most important person in his life had been born, and going out to a bar was just way too mundane, despite the sometimes pleasurable results.
Leaning back, he admired how his eyes now looked. His lashes were blackest black, an elegant swath of red and gold shadow adorning the lids, sweeping past the outer tips of his eyebrows into points, then curving down around the corners of his eyes to tint about a third of the length of the lower lids. The colors he had chosen to match the clothes he planned to wear, the shade of red carefully selected to not clash with his vibrant violet irises.
Satisfied with his eyes, he painted his lips the same shade of red, brushing a liquid gloss on top to give them a subtle shimmer. A quick, delicate sweep of blush over his cheekbones, and he was finished with his face. Tilting his head again to look at himself from different angles, he checked for any flaws. He had foregone foundation, as his own skin was smooth and blemish-free today, and he wasn't one to mess with perfection.
He grinned at his reflection when he was assured of how faultless his work was. At first, he was going to apply a more traditional style of makeup, complete with a white base covering his face and neck, but had decided against it. He figured it would make him look too much like a maiko, and that wasn't the effect he was going for. So, he had settled on a more contemporary style, one that flattered him very well, he thought.
Standing, he quickly cleaned up, putting the makeup containers in their places, washing the reusable applicators, and throwing away the disposable ones. Then, he moved toward his wardrobe.
Opening the large, freestanding cabinet, he was presented with his extensive collection of traditional clothing. He had spent a fortune on his clothes over the decades, and now had a selection that any noblewoman or geisha would envy. Ikkaku had teased him about his preference for feminine styles and accessories, but Yumichika had rebuffed his lover, stating simply that true beauty had no gender, and that it wasn't his fault that the finest and loveliest designs were assumed by most to be suited only for women.
Shedding his casual yukata and fluffy blue slippers, he went through the much-practiced routine of dressing himself. First, he donned white silk tabi and straw zouri with black and red straps—also silk, of course—to avoid having to bend over too much while more elaborately (and bulkily) dressed. Once that was finished, he slipped into a white susoyoke and matching hadajuban, patterned with widely-spaced, very lightly-colored camellia flowers. After that came the nagajuban, which was a pale yellow, and then the hiyoku, which was a more robust yellow with golden threads throughout the weave, making the cloth shimmer.
Now he extracted his favorite piece from the wardrobe, a black houmongi-style kimono. A branch of white plum blossoms draped over the left shoulder, crossed the back diagonally, and wrapped around the skirt in a gentle spiral to the bottom hem. Sparrows of silver and gold sat here and there among the flowers, others flying toward the branch in the otherwise black expanses of the houmongi. Blossoming branches and birds also adorned the right sleeve, matching the rest of the garment.
Yumichika slid his arms into the kimono, draping it over his shoulders with reverence, as if it were sacred. Taking a moment to appreciate the softness of the silk, he let a girlish giggle slip past his lips. This was one of his oldest pieces, and had long been his favorite. It didn't have the most elaborate pattern, nor was it the most expensive, but it held a special place in his heart. The reason was that Ikkaku had noticed him admiring it in the seamstress's window, and without telling Yumichika beforehand, had bought it and presented it to his lover as a present to celebrate his promotion to fifth seat in the Eleventh Division. Ikkaku had been baffled by Yumichika's reasoning for not accepting the position of fourth seat, but had congratulated the smaller man just as wholeheartedly as he would have if Yumichika had taken the seat directly under his.
Coming out of his brief reverie, he wrapped the kimono around his body and tied it closed with a plain white karihimo, then wound a vibrant red fukuro-style obi around his waist, carefully folding an obiita into the wide cloth as he did so. The obi, too, was patterned with white plum blossoms, but there were no birds, nor was there a central branch. Donning an obimakura to support the knot and covering it with a gold obiage, he set to work tying the obi behind him. He was well-practiced in tying an obi by himself, which he was glad of. It wouldn't do if, every time he wanted to dress up, he had to find a helper. Ikkaku sure as hell wouldn't do it. So, through much frustration and repetition, he had learned to do it himself. He fashioned the knot into the traditional nijuudaiko musubi style, carefully passing a black obijime through the knot as he did so, adding a little extra flair to the obi. A wisteria-shaped obidome made of amethyst decorated the obijime, lying near the center of his belly.
Last, but certainly not least, he removed a lavish crimson uchikake from the wardrobe and slid it on over the whole ensemble. White-and-black Japanese cranes adorned the garment, their wings spread gracefully as they flew over the smooth silk. Golden patterns swirled among the birds, here and there forming white and silver flowers with gold and pink centers. This was the single most expensive piece in his wardrobe, and had cost him an entire paycheck to purchase. He only wore it on very special occasions. Ikkaku's birthday certainly warranted its use, he thought.
Thank the gods Ikkaku's birthday is in November, he thought, opening up a drawer that held a multitude of accessories. The number of layers he was wearing was not only heavy, but would be very uncomfortable in the warmer months. Despite his love of dressing up, his body was most used to the simple kosode and hakama that made up his shihakushou, much lighter than the outfit he was currently wearing. In the summer he indulged less elaborately, wearing brightly-colored yukata. It wasn't often that even he dressed himself in such an overly-formal fashion as he was now.
He carefully brushed his hair so it was smooth and shining, then selected a white, silken kanzashi in the shape of a wisteria blossom. He slid it into his hair at his left temple, the white complementing the jet-black of his hair. Thin curls of jade adorned the base of the flower, representing wisteria vines. He left his chin-length hair otherwise swinging free, as it was too short for any kind of elaborate hairstyle.
Closing the wardrobe, he returned to his dressing mirror. His nails were kept neatly trimmed short, as long nails were impractical when wielding a sword. Today, however, he wanted to look his best, so he had bought a set of temporary nails to complete his look. They weren't the cheap plastic kind found in grocery stores and common beauty shops, but rather made of stronger, higher-quality material akin to the acrylic nails applied in professional salons. They weren't fit to be permanently cemented on like true acrylic nails, but that wasn't what Yumichika was going for. One day was long enough for his purposes.
He had waited until after getting dressed to apply the nails, as he didn't want to snag any of the lush fabrics, not to mention it was much easier to tie his obi without fake nails getting in the way. Utilizing quick-drying nail glue, he applied them with little trouble. He didn't wear artificial nails often, but he had done so enough to get the application down fairly well. After all ten of them were on, he held his hands out in front of him, admiring them. They were red, the same shade as his lip color and eye shadow, and each had a tiny golden dragon on it. He had selected this set especially for this occasion, in honor of Ikkaku's bankai, Ryuumon Hoozukimaru. They weren't too long, extending about five millimeters past the ends of his fingers, and had rounded tips. He had never understood excessively long fingernails, as they had to get in the way of just about anything done with your hands, and square tips just didn't look elegant to him.
He sat there for a while, letting the nail glue dry. He knew he had to be careful even after it had set, as temporary nails could break off if one wasn't too gentle with them. He wasn't planning on doing anything demanding with his hands until later that night, however. He smiled at the thought. It was Ikkaku's birthday, so it was only fair that Yumichika take the lead in bed. He knew Ikkaku liked it when he got aggressive. Yumichika was not a passive lover by a long shot, but it wasn't very common for him to take the reins completely. Ikkaku was in for a treat tonight.
Once satisfied that the glue had set, he reached for the finishing touch to his ensemble. Removing a choker from a velvet necklace holder, he fastened the piece of jewelry around his neck, feeling the softness of the black silk band and the coolness of the metal pendant. It was the choker with the pendant of white gold fashioned into the kanji for "yumi" that Ikkaku had given him for his birthday the month before last. He always wore it, though it was usually concealed under the orange knitted garment he wore with his shihakushou. Tonight it would be out in full view. He had removed it to take a quick but thorough bath before readying himself for Ikkaku, but now he felt its familiar weight around his neck once again.
Standing, he went to his full-length mirror and took a good long look at himself. Turning this way and that, he looked himself over from all angles.
"Yumichika, you look perfect," he told his reflection, turning around and looking over his shoulder to see his back. Delighted with his appearance, he fetched his phone and quickly dialed his vice-captain's number.
"Hiii-iiiii!" a young girl's voice chirped from the other end. "Yumi-chan, is that you?"
"I'm finished getting ready, Yachiru-chan," he said into the phone. "You can let Ikkaku have his sword back now."
"Okay, bye!" Without waiting for Yumichika to respond, the diminutive girl cut the connection.
Yumichika chuckled, snapping his phone shut again. Yachiru had been eager to assist with his plan, and had almost sped off to do as she was asked before Yumichika had halted her and told her that he'd let her know when to put things into action.
It was only a matter of time before Ikkaku returned. While waiting, Yumichika put on some relaxing music, turning the volume low enough so it wouldn't interfere with conversation, letting it establish a soothing ambiance in the room.
About ten minutes later, he felt Ikkaku's reiatsu approaching. He was definitely annoyed. Yachiru had done her job well.
A moment later, Ikkaku entered the small house, cursing heatedly.
"Stupid brat! Taking my sword…what the hell got into her this time?" Ikkaku was breathing hard, as if he had just run a long race. Yachiru's little game of keep-away with Hoozukimaru must have been strenuous indeed, to tax Ikkaku's endurance so.
Yumichika giggled, waiting patiently for Ikkaku to enter the bedroom.
"The next time she pulls a stunt like that, I swear I'll—" Ikkaku's tirade stopped abruptly. He had flung the bedroom door open, caught sight of Yumichika, and froze. His mouth was open, halted right in the middle of his sentence, and his eyes were wide, taken completely by surprise by what he saw before him.
"Welcome back, Ikkaku dear," Yumichika smiled seductively, walking toward his fiery lover. He put a suggestive swing into his hips, his smile widening into a grin as he watched the effect it had on the other man.
"Y-Yumichika," Ikkaku managed to stammer, words mostly failing him. "You…I…wow…"
"Do you like what you see?" Yumichika asked, reaching out to gently stroke Ikkaku's chest through his kosode.
"You look…stunning," the taller warrior got out after a few failed attempts at speech.
"Oh, good!" Yumichika smiled brightly. "You'll have to thank Yachiru-chan for it. She's the one who gave me the time to get ready."
"You're telling me it was your idea for her to steal my sword?"
"Mmhm. My idea."
"You little bastard!" Ikkaku grinned. "I'm gonna get you back for that someday."
"Oh, I'm sure you will!" Yumichika laughed. He stepped closer and wound his arms around Ikkaku's neck and shoulders, feeling his lover's strong arms embrace him as well. "I love you, Ikkaku. Happy birthday." He closed his eyes as Ikkaku leaned down, covering his painted lips with his own.
Ikkaku kissed him firmly but gently, making sure not to squeeze the shorter warrior too tightly. Yumichika would have a fit if his expensive silks were wrinkled.
"Cherry," he said under his breath when they parted, licking his lips. Yumichika was wearing flavored lip gloss.
Yumichika laughed again and released his hold, his hands sliding over Ikkaku's shoulders to rest on his chest. Ikkaku caught one of his hands and held it up, scrutinizing it.
"Fake nails?" he asked, grinning again. "You really pulled out all the stops to look like a chick tonight, Yumi."
Yumichika tisked and held up a finger like a scolding teacher. "It's not that I'm trying to look like a 'chick,' my dear Ikkaku. I simply want to look beautiful for you. I've told you time and again that beauty has—"
"I know, I know, 'beauty has no gender.'" Ikkaku finished for him. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on Yumichika's forehead. "You've really outdone yourself this time, Yumi. There are no words to describe how you look right now."
"Oh, good, because you'd probably mess it up, anyway," Yumichika quipped, giving him a sly smile. Ikkaku was no poet, after all, and everyone knew it.
"Little bitch," Ikkaku snorted. He wasn't truly insulted, however, and let himself be led over to the low table in the corner of the room, where a jug of sake and two cups were laid out. A crystal vase with a peacock carved into it sat in the center of the table, holding a bouquet of winter cherry fruits in it. The brightly-colored husks seemed to shimmer in the light.
"Sit, sit!" Yumichika implored, taking Hoozukimaru and placing it on a set of wall pegs, putting it away for the evening. Returning to his lover's side, he uncorked the sake jug and poured some into the cups, one for Ikkaku and one for himself. "I know Renji-kun and the others are expecting us to go drinking with them tonight," he said, his voice soft and lilting, "but what say we have our own, private celebration? Going out to a bar is such a common thing, and your birthday is so much more special than that."
Ikkaku took his cup and downed its contents in one gulp. "Yeah, why not?" he said with a grin. "Those bastards will be just fine without us."
"Of course they will." Yumichika let himself be pulled into a deep, passionate kiss. Before it got too heated, he gently extracted himself from the embrace. "Careful of the makeup, love," he chided. "We'll have plenty of time for that later."
Ikkaku laughed heartily, letting Yumichika refill his cup. "I see you're wearing the houmongi I gave you."
"It's my favorite, you know," Yumichika said, a warm, giddy feeling welling up in him. Ikkaku had acknowledged the importance in his choice of clothing! Yumichika was even more eager to please now.
"Yeah, I know," Ikkaku replied, giving him a softer smile than before. He reached up to gently touch the pendant at Yumichika's throat. "You look incredible in it."
For a long while they sat there, exchanging stories and jokes, occasionally making out, and making sure each other's sake cup was always full. Their make-out sessions gradually got longer and more frequent, and towards the end of their second jug of sake, Ikkaku found himself half sitting, half lying in their bed, Yumichika straddling his hips.
"I don't usually get so dressed up just to get undressed again so soon," Yumichika breathed with a wry smile, undoing his elaborate clothing as quickly as he could without risking damage to the fabric. Tossing the garments to the side—he was too damn horny to care where they landed right now; he'd gather them up and fold them carefully again tomorrow—he leaned down and kissed Ikkaku roughly, moaning at the feel of skin on skin.
"You're never more beautiful than when you're only in your skin," Ikkaku hissed, taking a hold of his lover and grinding them together.
Yumichika gasped at the sensations, but quickly regained control. "No, my love," he purred, tapping Ikkaku's nose and smiling indulgently. "I'll be doing all the work tonight. You just have to lay back and enjoy."
"Mmm, that would be delicious." Ikkaku nibbled along Yumichika's throat, nuzzling the choker there.
"Happy birthday, Ikkaku," Yumichika whispered after another kiss, his hands caressing his lover's chiseled body. "Happy birthday."
End
Author's Notes: Congratulations if you got to the end. I know the descriptions of Yumichika's clothing might have gotten a little tedious. I wanted to describe them down to the last detail, though, and since traditional formal Japanese clothing is very elaborate, that made for some long descriptions. I'm sure Yumi would appreciate the thoroughness. He loves for his beauty to be closely admired, after all.
Anyway, please review and tell me what you think. As with "Tanjoubi omedetou," this got much longer than I expected. I thought it'd be shorter than "Tanjoubi omedetou," and it ended up being longer. Oops. I hope the detailed descriptions of Yumichika getting dressed weren't too excruciating. Were they, or am I just being paranoid?
P.S. If anyone understands the significance of the winter cherry bouquet, you have my utmost respect.
Japanese Clothing Glossary
Yukata – An unlined "summer kimono" made of lighter fabric than traditional kimono.
Tabi – Ankle-high, fitted socks worn with traditional footwear. The big toe is separated from the other toes.
Zouri (or "zori") – Traditional thong footwear similar in design to flip-flops.
Susoyoke – A half-slip-like garment worn under the nagajuban.
Hadajuban – An undershirt-like garment worn under the nagajuban.
Nagajuban – A kimono-shaped robe worn to protect the outer garments against sweat, etc.
Hiyoku – An "under-kimono" worn to add layers, thus increasing formality.
Houmongi – A formal style of kimono, characterized by patterns above and below the waist.
Karihimo – A narrow sash used to help hold a kimono closed, often worn underneath the obi.
Fukuro obi – A formal, elaborately-patterned obi, about twelve inches wide and twelve to fifteen feet long.
Obiita – A stiffener, often cardboard covered with cloth, that helps keep the obi flat. Worn between the layers of the obi.
Obimakura – A small pillow used to support and shape the obi knot.
Obiage – A scarf-like cloth that covers and conceals the obimakura. Worn partly underneath the obi.
Nijuudaiko musubi – A "double drum knot," a variation of the standard drum knot ("taiko musubi") used when wearing a fukuro obi, due to its length.
Obijime – A string or cord tied around the obi and through the knot, used mainly as decoration.
Obidome – A small decorative accessory fastened or strung onto the obijime.
Uchikake – A very formal kimono with a trailing hem. Worn outside the main kimono, like a coat, and is not tied with the obi.
Kosode – A type of kimono with shorter sleeves and skirt than a standard kimono. Often worn in conjunction with hakama.
Hakama – Wide, pleated, pants-like garment. Worn over the skirt of an accompanying kosode.
Shihakushou – A standard shinigami uniform, consisting of black kosode and hakama. Not a real clothing term.
Kanzashi – A hair ornament, which can take many different shapes. Flowers are a particularly popular design.