NExt oNE
Rukia has to scream to be heard over the throbbing beat. What is the appeal of this place, Ichigo?
This place is called NExt oNE, she believes. It is a dance club in downtown Karakura, and can be found with the aid of a map, a compass, and a group of friends who have been there before. It is elusive, tucked away in a warehouse surrounded by warehouses, and if you listen to some people, it can only be found during certain phases of the moon. Rukia is more than a little surprised to find out that, not only has Ichigo been to this firetrap before, but that he is one of few who can be trusted to find it.
What? She sees Ichigo's lips move more than she hears his voice.
The building, one floor with a balcony-type-thing overhead, is tightly packed with teenagers and young adults, and the occasional thirty-and-up year old. Apparel fully reaches both ends of the spectrum; the shinigami knows, having since her arrival an hour past spotted at least one person of indeterminable gender prancing about in some sort of inflatable body suit, and more than her share of naked bits.
She growls up at Ichigo, beyond irritated at this point and entirely unhappy. She is so angry at him, she wishes she could retreat behind three doors and a wall. As it is, if she does not remain close enough to him to breathe the same air, Rukia would be lost- and probably trampled- in the masses. She stabs at his cheek with the little plastic sword that came in her drink.
Why are we here?! This is not fun! She shrieks, fully achieving a new level of loud. Ichigo winces sharply and rubs at his ear, flashing her a look, but chooses to act above his age (if she weren't so annoyed she might be proud) and leans down to speak into her ear.
You haven't been trying to have fun, Rukia! If he had spoken at that volume anywhere else her ear would ring from it.
They had come along with Chad and Orihime, and a cluster of the former's band buddies. Rukia imagines that if she put enough effort into it she could spy the giant man's head above the crowd of damp flesh, but Orihime she has long given up on. Ichigo is not worried, and has twice ordered her to follow his example. She did try at first.
How?! How could this possibly be fun? Rukia honestly doesn't have a clue. The air is so heavy with sweat, smoke and carbon dioxide that it smothers her, and even though she has done nothing more than sit and once go to the bathroom, her borrowed clothing sticks to her body uncomfortably, and perspiration runs down her back and from her hair. The lights, few and low and most of them flashing bury spears of pain in her eyes and head. Glow-in-the-dark accessories and the tails of illumination they make like comets make her sway in her seat, dizzy.
Ichigo gives her a look- yes, yes it is!- of pity.
The song changes, though it is only by sheer willpower that Rukia can bear to call such noise a song. It's a never ending drone. The thumping, throb of the beat like the pump of a heart excites her when she doesn't want to be excited, taps into her adrenal glands and leaks endorphins like battery acid into her veins. Her body tenses in time with the pounding, and she senses that more of it is deliberate than she would like.
His hand falls, a warm weight against her too-hot scalp and damp hair. She looks to him and as she watches, a bead of sweat rolls down his nose and off the tip. His lips are at her ear again before she realizes he has moved.
You could try dancing, he suggests in a thick voice. And her hand is wrapped up and gone inside his and she is moving into the dragon's dripping maw. She wants to cling because she is scared- scared! Why should she be? But she is…
Hands, arms, elbows and other parts that belong to people she can't see reach for her, snatch at her clothes and trip her feet. She falls against Ichigo and grabs his arm, looking around her as if she were enclosed on all sides by monsters, faceless monsters. Not Hollows, because she knows how to fight them, but beasts and creatures of humanity's tall tales, breath reeking like rotting meat and old blood-
A searing body presses against her back, and it's almost like skin-to-skin because her clothing is wet and she can feel. Everything, and Renji's voice like molten rock oozes from above, and Ichigo is smiling. She didn't know he would be here.
Rukia wonders what drug she has mistakenly ingested, because her body is getting hotter and her heart is beating faster, so fast, so fast it might pop.
Renji's lips are against her ear. So many men are doing that to her tonight. Don't be afraid, he says, and it's part order and part plea, but mostly he's teasing. He's got that lilt to his voice.
And then Ichigo's heat is against her too, and she's rolling her eyes and trying not to smile as he adds his own piece, we'll keep you safe, and she doesn't realize it, but they've started dancing. All three of them.
Oh, Rukia really stops thinking then.
The hands are still there, the strangers' hands, but they're few and far and for the most part they're spikes in flavor, and she kind of likes them. In this place, in this heat, it feels more like a friendly hello than a violation.
Besides, the men she is held in place between, their hands are the ones that matter, and it is theirs that she feels the most. She can tell them, tell them by roughened skin, calluses and scars like taught string on their skin, and they're both so hot. She can track them easily, without thinking. Ichigo's got one on Renji's hip; she feels his thumb crushed into her back periodically, there and gone, there and gone in time with the lazy but hard thrust of her best friend's pelvis. His other is right beneath her armpit, so large that even though his hold is unassuming, he's touching her breast. Renji is restless and grabby and his hands are moving; one is splayed, flat on her tummy, and one just moved from her throat to the back of Ichigo's neck and she laughs when she hears him yelp. Rukia can imagine the bruises she can tell Renji is deliberately placing, and licks her lips thinking of them.
The faceless monsters are gone, but Rukia doesn't notice their departure. All she has attention for is Renji's lips, hot like a brand on her shoulder, the offending fabric of her shirt pushed away from the places he wants to kiss, and Ichigo's growls as his body crushes to hers, his teeth flashing in the pulsing lights as he bits along the line of the other man's jaw. She takes his face between her hands and tries to rise up on her toes, tongue out to clean the faint spots of blood at the corners of his mouth. One of his hands is sneaking up her shirt, inevitably baring her stomach to air that- she can't tell, is it hotter or cooler? Renji's got long fingers dipping beneath Ichigo's jeans and they're moving, they're moving and Ichigo likes it.
She doesn't know- fingers- under her skirt, rubbing at sensitive spots- Rukia moans, loud and loose and broken, and the boys convulse and react like animals in heat, hips thrusting forward and her mouth goes dry as bone when she manages to understand- there is a hard, hot erection on either side of her.
Rukia summons the presence of mind from somewhere- somewhere- and leads both men away, though she is sure that the eyes all around would not stop them from continuing.
It might be a broom closet, or a bathroom. She isn't really sure and to be honest she doesn't really care. It's a place with a door and- who cares about a lock?- an illusion of privacy, and before the slab of heavy black something has swung back into place Ichigo's hand is gone in Renji's pants and he's snarling and grinding the back of his head into the graffiti'd wall and pushing into the teenager's grip. Rukia scrambles up Ichigo's back before she's forgotten, holding on with tightly wrapped legs and arms around his neck and she's devouring his face, his ear and cheek and neck and he's kissing Renji who's keening and-
She never thought she'd here that sound from him. Strong arms grab her and maneuver her around until she's held aloft, between them, just like before, her back to Renji's chest and her suddenly bare breasts against Ichigo's pecs. Renji's holding her thighs up and apart, and Ichigo's struggling with her underwear, and she's so ready she's mewling and whining and following his clumsy fingers with her hips, she wants that touch so badly. There's cursing and laughter and zippers, and their jeans pushed down their legs, and ohgod he's inside--
Oh but it's not who she had expected, it's not Ichigo and this is- he's panting in her ear and making desperate noises, thrusting his curled cock into the soft skin of her belly and smearing fluid over her. Hands are moving and muscles are bunching, Renji's breathing heavily in her other ear, are you ready for this? It's a laugh and suddenly there's…oh, oh, what is that…?
The velvety rub of Ichigo's erection is gone from her stomach, and now it really is Ichigo inside, but Renji's inside too and it kind, kind of hurts. He's groaning into her neck where his face is buried, and he's saying something that sounds like motherfuck…! Tight ass, and- oh. That explains it.
God they're moving, they're moving and Rukia's so loud she's sure that everyone can hear them but god, it's so good and it hurts but it's so, so good…!
She can't take it, can't take them both for very long, and too soon she's coming harder than she's ever come in her life and she's making this high, thin sound she didn't know she could. Rukia pants and whimpers, she's just come and it's too much and, bless these boys, they seem to realize. Groaning and grunting, she's lifted off of them both and is deposited gently on the ground, and she watches as Renji drops to his knees and, grabbing Ichigo's hips, takes more than half of him into his mouth. Ichigo makes a strangled, choking noise and almost thrusts into Renji's mouth, but gets control of himself in time. Rukia's breathing hard and laying on her back, watching, and decides not to warn Ichigo when Renji's hands cup the back of his knees.
There's muted crash as his back hits the floor hard, and Renji crawls over top of him and connects their mouths a sloppy, wet kiss. The teenager's arms are looped around her best friend's neck and his fingers look delicious like that tangled in bloody strands, and Rukia realizes that Renji's hands are wandering again when Ichigo's hips jump and he whines against the other's mouth. They scramble and roll over the floor of whatever room this is, and Renji's sitting between Ichigo's legs and his pelvis punches out, and…
And Rukia's giggling as she wonders if it's purely coincidence or if Renji's just got a thing for asses, in all definitions of the word. Ichigo's swearing breathlessly and his face is red, and when he hears her laugh he rolls his head to the side and glares as best as he can, but he's laughing too. Rukia turns onto her knees and crawls toward him, flattening her stomach to the ground and ignoring how cold it is as she kisses him deeply. Renji's bent over and pressing open-mouth kisses everywhere on Ichigo's belly and his hands are running possessively up his sides, and Rukia feels Ichigo grin and sees his hand moving in the corner of her eye. He fits his fingers in between their lips and they wet them together. Then the fingers are gone again, and Renji squawks and they can't stop laughing.
Rukia's still giggling and pushing her face against Ichigo's when Renji's fingers, shaking slightly from the sensations Ichigo's are causing in him, delve into her heat and she moans, arching into them like a cat.
And it's curious, but suddenly Ichigo and Renji both stiffen at nearly the same time, and they're not coming, they're close, but not there just yet. Renji makes a strange sound that Rukia doesn't know how to describe, but it's something like a keen and a groan, and Ichigo's grinding his teeth and gasping. Renji thrusts, hard and deep once, and Ichigo's wrist bends as his fingers move inside the other man, and now they're coming.
She waits until they've caught their breath before wiggling between them, curling up in their warmth and asking what that was all about. Not the sex, the synchronized freezing. And she's surprised but she smiles when Renji blushes red enough to match his hair and it's Ichigo's chest that rumbles as he laughs and says one word: prostate.
Came out of nowhere. Hope you like it.
-Oceans