This honestly seems like it should be made into a full story.

Sick of Dancing with the Beast

It's harder to succumb to the fact that you're in love with the person you hate more than the fact that you're giving up everything you've worked for for that hated person. Kugo wondered which part of the gutter his mind was wedged in: Tsukishima's part, that mentally instable bastard, or Ichigo's part, on-again-off-again lover.

"You alright?"

Kugo blinked himself back into reality, realizing he had been pondering a little too deeply again. It was his own fault, really, for winding up in such a difficult predicament—debating over focusing on Ichigo, the innocent kid who wanted nothing more than the power to protect his friends, and Tsukishima, that demented asshole who was only screwing with the Xcution since day 1.

"I'm... fine, just thinking," he rolled over to Ichigo, whose exposed back was facing him like that bitter sting of rejection. This never should have happened, let alone started to begin with. Kugo half-heartedly blamed the booze, aware that he had been the only drunk where as Ichigo had been fairly sober. Sometimes he wished Yukio would stop impulsively stocking up on all the best—and strongest—brands.

Ichigo was silent again, not that Kugo could blame him. It was still too early in the morning—they didn't have to get up so soon, but Kugo needed to leave before someone caught them like this. He was supposed to leave last night, like he did every time; touch and go, which always made him feel a little guilty inside. The guilt only made him angrier. The anger turned to stress. The stress made him think of ways to feel less guilty, which involved seeing Ichigo again and that usually only ended up making him feel worse. Which made him angry. Which made him stress.

It was insane.

Still, Kugo felt the need to hold Ichigo close out of fear—an ancient pang of worry that boiled in the deepest part of his gut. Fear for what, he didn't know. He slipped his arm around the boy's waist and brought him close, the warmth of their bare flesh sending a chill down Kugo's spine. Ichigo relaxed into the familiar touch, urging Kugo to hold him tighter.

Unfortunately, the tighter Kugo held him the sicker he was inside, yet when he went to pull away his heart broke. Giving in to his indecisive body he moved Ichigo beneath him, pinning the boy by his wrists. Kugo pressed his lips against the pulse-point of Ichigo's neck, tasting the sweet, peachy skin. Ichigo sighed with content, craning his head around in attempt to hide a blush.

Ginjou almost chuckled at that, moving his kisses down Ichigo's chest. There were a handful of scars scattered across his body from the times when he got into fights and was subsequently cut by some thug's knife, so Kugo took the time to kiss each eroded mark carefully. Finally, he released his grip on Ichigo's wrists and kissed him deeply, passionately.

Kugo's excitement ebbed into stress again, and it made him angry how sick sick sick SICK this was. He had never dreamed of loosing each of his firsts to another male, and it didn't help that that man had to be Ichigo. He didn't even love Ichigo—wait, did he?—so this all felt wrong. Of course, Kugo also became aware of how freaking right it felt. Sometimes he just wanted to clobber something do death with his Cross of Scaffold to see if that would make his mind any clearer (but he seriously doubted it).

Ichigo's hands slipped around Kugo's hips, pulling him down so their bodies melted together. His teeth sank into the Fullbringer's shoulder, earning a startled cry. Oh, yeah, and contrary to popular belief Ichigo liked to play rough. "Ow, stop doing that you'll make me bleed one of these days!"

"One of these days," Ichigo echoed, raking his fingers through Kugo's dark hair.

Kugo tried to get his own grip on Kurosaki's short ends but failed, as usual. There were too many qualities about Ichigo Kugo just didn't like: hair's too short, doesn't like ramen, can't take too many jokes, likes to wrestle because he always, miraculously, wins... If the list didn't go on like it did Kugo wouldn't have regretted going drinking with the underage Kurosaki boy.

"I've been meaning to ask you..." Ichigo almost sounded uncertain, fingers gliding over Kugo's underarms, "Where did you get these scars from?"

Kugo didn't respond at first, instead distracting himself by trailing kisses down to Ichigo's-

There was a surprised scream from the other side of the room. Ichigo and Kugo glanced over to see Yuzu and Karin in the doorway, faces painted ten different shades of vermillion. "Oh, crap," Ichigo uttered, "Y-Yuzu, Karin, this isn't what it look like!"

Kugo scoffed, "They're not buyin' it. This is exactly what it looks like." Shit, cover's blown.

Yuzu took off screaming down the hall about how Ichigo was in bed with another man. Reacting instinctively, even reflexively, the brother leapt out of bed and slammed his room door closed in Karin's face, locking it just as Isshin smashed into the other side. "Quickly, go!"

Kugo had already thrown on his pants, snapping on his belt, "Catch ya later!" He tossed on his shoes, shirt and jacket, leaping out of the window in a record-breaking half a minute.

Ichigo slipped into pants before his father successfully kicked down the door, smirking broadly, "I see how it's going to be! You can hide him Ichigo but you can't hide him forever!" Then he was pounced. "And haven't you ever heard of locking your door? You probably scarred your innocent little sisters for life!"

"Get off me before I shove my foot down that hole in your face!"

Kugo flinched at the uproar echoing from Ichigo's room behind him as he lugged down the street, hands shoved in his pockets. "Should've left when you had the chance, but noooo, it just had to be raining and your lazy ass didn't feel like walking home in the torrential downpours!" People trickled into the streets from their homes like thin streams, eager to start the day. Kugo didn't understand their logic, but he shrugged it off and stormed down the street with a cloud hanging drearily over his head. "Stupid, stupid, stupid, idiot, DUMBASS!"

A few heads glanced at the fuming man as he passed.

"Ginjou-san!"

"Of course." He halted in his tracks, not even bothering to acknowledge the familiar voice right away. Orihime Inoue bounced up to him, dearest Chad Yasutora in tow. Kugo smiled warmly, but found it was forced—his mask was breaking; he needed to work on it otherwise someone would become suspicious. "Hey, guys! What's up?"

He hated Orihime. She was annoying, bubbly, and worst of all naïve. The only person who couldn't see that she was head-over-heels in love with Ichigo was that oblivious strawberry himself, but all Ginjou ever heard out of this girl was Kurosaki This and Kurosaki That. She didn't even feel comfortable enough to call him by his first name.

Ichigo hadn't noticed her, but he had noticed me… Says a lot, doesn't it?

"We were heading to the store," Orihime chirped, "You wanna come with us? Or, are you busy?"

"I'm not doing anything," Kugo shrugged impassively, "I was hoping Ichigo would drop by so we could train some more…"

"Without your Fullbring?" Chad mused.

Kugo quirked an eyebrow, "I don't know what you-" he touched his sternum and realized he had forgotten his necklace, "Dammit!" Great, so now he had to go back and actually brave Ichigo's house in broad daylight to retrieve the only piece of evidence that said he was even there last night. All he had to do was get past face recognition by poor, scarred-for-life little Yuzu and Karin, and if that didn't work then see if his stamina allowed him to outrun a rampaging, oddly enthusiastic father. Knowing Ichigo's genetics, probably not. "This just isn't my day."

"We can help you look for it," Orihime offered.

He went to reply, possibly tell her off as politely as possible, but Ichigo's call interrupted him. "Ginjou! You forgot this!"

They faced him as he approached, swinging the necklace around on his finger. Kugo cleared his throat, ignoring the quizzical expressions from Chad and Inoue. "Thanks!" He exclaimed, accepting it back, "You need to stop being so nice, Ichigo, I don't know how I'll ever repay you!" He more than gladly slipped his Fullbring on, realizing that it did in fact feel much different wearing it than not.

"What were you guys doing up so early?" Orihime questioned, but being the air-head that she was her tone didn't sound like she suspected anything.

Kugo broke into a cold sweat, "We were… uh… talking about training… and he introduced me to his family."

"Introduced," Ichigo retorted under his breath. Kugo camel-kicked him in the shin. "Ow! What was that for?"

Kugo gave him an innocent look, "What was that now, Ichigo?" Then received an instant slap to the back of the head. Yeah, he undoubtedly had that coming. He rubbed at the imaginary bruise and listened to Ichigo debate with Orihime and Chad over whether he should take a break from training before he overworked himself. Kugo wondered what made Ichigo… well, Ichigo. Did he really even like this kid to begin with? Were they turning this into something more than it should be?

Ichigo glanced over his shoulder at the silent Kugo who was staring at them with an unreadable expression. The pierced sensation from that calculated, amber gaze almost made Kugo's legs give out—his insides melted and his hearts converted into pudding. What's wrong with me?

"You OK, Ginjou?"

"I'm thinking… about things I need to get done today."

"Let's talk," Ichigo grabbed Kugo's arm at the elbow, much to his dismay, and dragged him out of ear-shot of Chad and Orihime. "You've been thinking a lot lately. Are you sure you're OK? You have me a little worried here." Kugo avoided making eyes contact by dropping his gaze to the ground. This was a step-backwards for him, seeing as he was the one who had enough confidence to never glance anywhere below the waist line—given the situation, of course. He realized he hadn't even answered Ichigo until the boy said, "You can tell me anything."

"Do you love me?" No, wait, wrong question! You're treading on dangerous grounds, Kugo!

The question had been quiet, at least. Ichigo's body relaxed, "I… won't answer that until you answer this: do you love me?"

"I don't even like you." Kugo's heart tore in two, and from the looks of it so did Ichigo's. No! Bad response! ABORT! ABORT! "I mean, I'm just not sure yet…" That's not helping. He scratched the goose bumps spreading across the back of his neck. "I… need a little time to think about it. My feelings are all colliding right now."

Ichigo sighed, "Fine, you have time to think… but I want your answer." He strode off, leaving Kugo to wallow in the bitter sting of guilt. Which made him angry. Which made him stress.

He watched almost sadly as Ichigo left with Chad and the drooling Inoue bit—girl, ugh, he just couldn't keep it together. Instead of dwelling in self-pity he trekked over to the Xcution hideout, his mind replaying scenes of his times with Ichigo during the hour walk. Training, talking, going out on the town, drinking things that may have been spiked, kissing, no one being home, the warmth of the bed and—

Kugo shook that mental image from his head. "No… that didn't mean anything!"

"What didn't mean anything?"

Kugo whirled around to the familiar voice, realizing he had been standing in front of the looming doors of the Xcution hideout. "J-Jackie! Sorry, I was just complaining to myself about—you know what, never mind. How are you this morning?"

"Better than you," she replied abruptly, "You have bags under your eyes. Get much sleep?"

"No," He pushed against the shaded-for-effect glass. The doors automatically locked on the outside and required who ever came in to enter a code on the keypad. "That's weird, I just unlocked the doors but they still won't open…" Jackie slapped her hand over her face and pulled the handle, swinging the left side open with ease. Kugo flushed, "Oh."

She quirked an eyebrow, "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine, just tired," he entered first, finding Yukio smirking from his seat at the bar counter. "You didn't even bother to help me? Way to be a friend, Yukio."

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "It was just too funny a moment to pass up."

Kugo contemplated throwing something at his head then decided against it. He took the liberty of traveling behind the counter to swipe a bottle of sake and then returning to the couch, popping the cork much to the quizzical stares of the only two other members in the room. "What?"

"Ginjou…" Jackie started, "You do realize it's seven in the morning, right?"

"Don't judge me I have a lot on my mind right now!" His lips pressed into a thin line. "But first some ramen! I'm starving and if I get piss-drunk now I won't be able to handle it."

Yukio rolled his eyes, "Then don't drink."

"Sue me!" Kugo snapped, jumping up to storm into the kitchen.

"If you break anything then I will!" Yukio shot back, turning in his chair to face Jackie, "What's with him today? He seems so… on edge, I think." From the kitchen came a clatter of bowls and plates from the cabinets over head, then the slamming of the fridge door. The microwave started up a moment later. "You notice anything odd about him this past week?"

Jackie tapped her chin, "Well, he seems distracted."

BANG! "OW! When did that table get there?"

Yukio flinched, "I can tell."

They watched with amusement as he downed his bowl of ramen, drank three bottles of sake, and then passed out face-down on the couch. Yukio considered drawing on Kugo's face with a sharpie marker but realized that the only thing scarier then a pissed off Ginjou using Fullbring was a pissed off Ginjou using Fullbring with a hangover. Unless he had a death wish Yukio figured it was best not to disturb the drunken man.

Riruka finally showed up with Giriko, who were followed closely by Ichigo, Chad, and none-too-surprisingly Orihime. "Sorry we're late," Riruka remarked, "Ran into these guys at the store—what the hell is he doing?"

They all glanced in unison at Kugo.

Jackie shrugged, "He apparently has a lot on his mind… but he isn't as hammered as I thought he'd be, otherwise the whole room would be plastered to the ceiling."

"It's seven in the morning," Chad remarked, receiving a 'don't-we-know-it?' look from Yukio.

Ichigo sighed and trekked over to his secret lover, pressing his heel into the other man's kidney—with all this drinking it could rupture at any minute, "Get up, we have training to do." Kugo groaned an incoherent complaint. After another nudge of encouragement he forced himself to sit up, grabbing Ichigo's jacket by the zipper. In a sudden, drunken flourish of strength Ichigo wasn't even remotely prepared for Kugo pinned the boy beneath him, resting his head on Ichigo's chest. "G-GINJOU! GET OFF ME!"

"I…" Kugo started, speech slurred, "I love you, Itsy… Ichigo…" He snuggled the boy's chest, heart beating furiously in his ear.

Ichigo flushed, "Er… Ginjou, get off of-" He was interrupted by a heavy snoring only brought about the sake, because Kugo was a quiet sleeper. Sighing in defeat, Ichigo glanced at the Xcution members trying to hold back mocking laughter, "Shut up and get him off of me! He's got my arms stuck!"

Riruka collapsed practically crying, clutching at her sides, "Oh, gosh Ichigo! It sucks to be you!" She rolled over on her back, "M-My sides! They're cramping! It hurts! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Ichigo craned his head around to Chad for support, "A little help?"

Jackie's phone flashed as she snapped a picture, smirking gamely, "He'll never live this down."

"And neither will I!" Ichigo sounded distressed, "Get him off!" He flailed helplessly, giving in to the larger man's weight. He was reminded of how comforting Kugo's embrace had felt that night a few weeks ago. It was warm, strong, kind of like it was now—wait, what? Ichigo realized Kugo's grip was sliding behind his back to further immobilize his arms. Chad finally decided to heed his friend's cries for help and grabbed Kugo by his waist.

It took three pulls to even get the Fullbringer to budge a little. Riruka took Chad by his waist, Orihime by Riruka's waist, Jackie by Orihime's waist, and then Yukio and Giriko. After four failed attempts Riruka hissed, "What'd he do, bolt his arms to Ichigo's back when we weren't looking?" They finally pried Kugo away from Ichigo after Giriko used a crowbar to gain leverage and dropped the drunken man on the love seat.

Ichigo exhaled a sigh of relief, "I'm definitely kicking his ass when he wakes up!" It almost felt like his ribs were going to collapse when he sat up again, realizing that his legs were a little sore from… Well, now wasn't a good time to think about that.

Kugo groaned, rolling over on the chair so he was face-down again. His snoring was muffled by the slick black leather of the headrest. Riruka pinched the bridge of her nose, "Looks like I'll be your trainer for today, Ichigo. Come on, let's go before this gets weird."

Yukio scoffed, "Before this gets weird?"

She ignored him.

When Kugo stirred later he noticed it was dark, and that it was quiet. He wearily lifted his swimming head to gaze at the Grandfather Clock across the room, placed ever so conveniently by Giriko. "Eight? Really?" The alcohol had knocked him on his ass. Pack back for thinking he had a high tolerance, apparently.

"Are you feeling better?"

Recognizing the voice, but thanks to his slight hangover it was grating on his nerves, Kugo glanced at Ichigo poised carelessly on the sofa across from him, thumbing through one of Jackie's monthly magazines. "Hellooo…"

"Don't even try it," Ichigo glared at him, "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"I didn't destroy anything in my drunken state again, did I?"

"Not this time," Ichigo flipped to a new page with a feigned interest, "We're the only ones here, so we can talk. You locked me in your death grip and told me you loved me in front of everyone. You're lucky they dismissed it as being under the influence."

Kugo groaned as he struggled to sit up, wishing the room would stop spinning like a merry-go-round. "Well, I answered your question from before at least."

"Did you mean it?"

A beat. "I… Yes, I did," Kugo inhaled sharply, fumbling with the right choice of words, "I love you because I—"

"Stop." Another silence. "That's what I want to talk to you about. I don't want you to tell me you love me. I don't want you to love me period." Ichigo cast the magazine aside, amber glare locked onto the floor, "I never answered the question, Ginjou, since I thought it would be best if you told me first."

Kugo furrowed his brow, "What are you—?"

"I don't love you, Ginjou. We made this more than it was supposed to be." Ichigo quickly stormed out the door, disappearing into the crisp night air and leaving Kugo to wallow in the bitter sting of rejection. Kugo was unable to fully comprehend the situation, unsure, his brain in agony, his heart palpitating.

He felt sick again… guilty. Which made him angry. Which made him stress.

And he was back to that never ending cycle. Again.