A/N: Hello all! This was written while I was "studying" physics, hahaha. . .

I'm not as late coming to the Bleach society as I thought. . .and I'm actually updated on most of the plot! Be proud! However, this may be slightly AU because I didn't factor in a lot of the Hueco Mundo arc.

Oh, and I wanted to geek out because I thought the parting line Ichigo gives Rukia was the CUTEST THING EVER, even if my friend and I were like, "No! Go back and kiss her, dumbass!" But, nothing is every easy.

"Thanks to you, the rain finally seems to be letting up." -squeal-

Ok, sorry, on to the chapter!

Chapter 1

History Homework and Hormones

"III-CHI-GO!"

The owner of that name flinched as the girl's shrill voice reached his ears. Sighing, he twisted slightly in his slouched position and yelled irritably up the stairs, "What?!"

The voice same back, considerably more subdued. "I was wondering if-if you would help me with our history. I—uh. . ."

"Don't know a thing about the recent past," he muttered as she trailed off. He really didn't want to go back to his room, but—"Can't you figure it out yourself?" he shouted.

"No."

He snorted, annoyed. "I'll be right up." He slowly closed his book and stretched his arms lazily, arching his back away from the couch he was sprawled on. He really didn't want to go up to his room. The reason was quite simple, really.

Rukia.

Before his life had turned upside down, he had been relatively oblivious to girls, but after meeting Rukia, that had slowly began to change. It finally kicked in full force while he was in the Soul Society, trying to save the midget shinigami who had taught him how to truly live up to his name.

He had thought the emotions were fleeting, and had pushed them away, focusing on his purpose, and treating Rukia like a doll, like usual. He had been almost afraid, but knew that she trusted him wholeheartedly. So that momentary lapse had vanished, and with it (or so he had thought) went the ridiculous feelings that had suddenly (or so he adamantly told himself) sprung up.

But now she was back, just as perky, feisty, and clueless as ever.

It was becoming harder and harder for him to suppress his feelings, and he had mastered that years and years ago.

Sure, he had heard from Keigo and Mizuro a thousand times about the million ways to win a girl's heart. He had listened infrequently, but had to admit that at least half of their schemes probably worked most of the time. But Rukia was definitely not a "most of the time" type of girl.

She was technically dead, first of all, but that wasn't an issue. She was culturally illiterate, but she was learning, and it was just funny, usually. And—Ichigo would die before admitting this out loud; he still sometimes cringed when he thought it—hopelessly adorable.

Most of all, she was Rukia, which made her infinitely special, or at least to him, anyway.

He knew what he wanted to do, but he also knew he couldn't just act on impulse.

Rukia was his friend. While in the past he might have thought she looked at him strangely sometimes, maybe with just a hint of something else in her eyes, he had come to a conclusion.

Even if Rukia did like him (which he highly doubted) he couldn't risk it. He valued their friendship too much, and she lived in his house, by the gods. Where would she go? How could they take care of Soul Society business? How could he protect her if she got scared of him, or left?

And so he had attempted to act the same around her, but every time he saw her, his heart seemed to clench. When she was sad or angry, he wanted to comfort her, desperately wishing that he could hold her, smooth her hair, stroke her until she was better. When she was happy, he wanted to attack her pale skin to see her shiver, hear her laugh.

So he began avoiding her. His feelings were too strong, and he was only a junior in high school. She was way out of his league. He didn't want to loose her.

He steadied himself, resolving to not fall prey to his idiotic hormones and emotions, and rolled off the couch. It took his battling sentiments a few minutes to be totally prepared, but he finally steeled himself and knocked on his door. "Rukia?" he called, letting her name roll off his tongue harshly, as if he hadn't changed. "Rukia, can I come in?"

He heard a clunk and smiled, throwing the door open. Sure enough, her history book was lying in front of him on the floor, right where she'd chucked it. He bent to get it, and said jokingly, "That's gonna get it done, Rukia."

He looked up, and his breath caught in his throat, all careful emotional preparation dashed. She was spread out on his bed—his bed—head propped on the pillow, arms behind her head. She was still wearing her school uniform, a very short skirt, and her blouse, which was slightly unbuttoned to reveal what he thought was a purple tank top. It was pretty hot in his room, and he was pretty sure he hadn't seen her in a tank top in a really long time. Orihime must have given it to her. His heart sped up when he thought of her in a tank top, shoulders bare—nope. History homework.

"I HATE history," Rukia muttered. "Come to think of it, I hate homework in general." Then she sent her piercing glare at Ichigo. "The only good thing about it is that you'll actually talk to me when I need help."

Ichigo's eyes widened. Had he been that obvious? Was she mad at him? "Uh. . ." he muttered, taking a step back to close the door.

Rukia sat up, making room for him, still searching with her gaze. "Is something wrong, Ichigo?"

He settled beside her, close enough to make her flush slightly before scowling at him again. The blush puzzled him momentarily before the concept of it nestled into his heart, a tiny seed of hope. He pushed the thought away, trying not to stare at her, realizing she was expecting him to answer her.

"I'm sorry, Rukia," he said quite sincerely. He leaned against the wall, his long arm resting on the space above her head to support him. "I've been stressed lately. The teachers in my higher level classes have really been piling on the work." What else was he supposed to say? How was he going to avoid her now? He should already be leaving. . . but he couldn't do that to her.

He jumped when she snatched for her book, one hand brushing against his arm as she leaned. He grinned and moved it out of her reach. "Maybe you should ask nicely first," he smirked.

She growled. "Give it here, Ichigo!" she snarled. His grin widened as she leaned across him, trying to grab her book. He was abruptly acutely aware of her hand squeezing his thigh for balance, making his breath come faster. He lazily shifted his leg so that her arm buckled, making her cry out, and fall sideways onto his lap. He groaned inwardly, feeling tremors run through his body. He suddenly felt very hot.

She squirmed, and he had to clench his fists. It wasn't fair that she could do this to him. She turned over so that she was glaring up at him. "Ichi-go," she whined. "I want my book." Then she grinned. One of her arms slammed across his shoulders and she dove to wrestle the book away. He laughed, even though it hurt to have his back jacked into the wall. He loved the way she looked when she was fighting with him.

She laughed triumphantly and sat up, most of her weight on his legs. He huffed at her, seemingly out of playful annoyance, but really out of frustration. This was why he had to stay away from her. She had a ridiculous habit of falling into situations that were so provocative, he couldn't stand it. His hand moved to steady her, and he looked at it blankly as it rested gently on her back. It had moved with a mind of its own.

She squirmed again, and braced herself on his shoulders. Ichigo instantaneously couldn't breathe. "Ichigo," she said slowly. One hand moved to smooth his hair, an impossible task. "You should get you hair cut." Her hand suddenly brushed the nape of his neck, and he stiffened. He had to stop this before his body exploded. "Just a little—whoa!" she yelled as he forcibly lifted her at the waist and dumped her unceremoniously back on the bed next to him. He settled back into his previous position. "Don't do that," he told her, almost angrily.

She looked at him, startled. But his eyes were closed, and it seemed as though he was having problems breathing. "Uh, ok. Sorry." She hurriedly flipped the book to the proper page and hastily began bouncing questions off the temperamental redhead.

Ichigo absentmindedly answered her questions as he tried to get his heart rate back to normal, but his body was taking a long time to settle. Every time she started speaking again, the backs of his eyelids presented her violet eyes shining up at him and he could fell her twisting against him. He started when his hand touched something soft, and he opened his eyes to look at this it. Rukia was bent over her paper. When she straightened, her hair brushed against his fingertips, tempting him. He quickly moved his hand higher.

She asked him another question, one which he answered vaguely. He felt as though his eyes were frozen in place. When she bent over again, he let his hand drop down. Just to see, he thought hazily. His fingers gently caressed her neck and her head snapped up. He tucked her wayward tag back into her shirt and was gratified when he felt her shiver as he slowly moved his hand away.

"Ichigo—" she began softly.

"Just sticking your tag in," he cut her off peacefully, eyes instantly closed again. She was silent for a minute, and he opened his eyes to glance at her. She was struggling in vain with one of the buttons on her blouse. Ichigo figured it had to be some else's, probably Karin's, because Rukia had never had problems with buttons before.

He placidly pushed her hands aside and leaned over to help before he knew what he was doing. "It's awfully hot in here, isn't it?" he asked, glancing up at her.

She was wide-eyed as she looked back at him. "Y-yes, it is," she mumbled.

"You should probably take this off. You're sweating," he told her matter-of-factly.

She tried to slip the blouse off, but gave up quickly. "It's stuck," she sighed.

Ichigo gently turned her around so he could untangle her necklace chain from the back of her blouse. He moved her hair out of the way, lingering on the smoothness of it. Rukia sat stock still as he eased the blouse off one arm. He let his hand rest on her almost-bare shoulder, and then squeezed her. "You must be overworked too," he told her softly. "You're tense." He pulled the garment off the rest of the way, but couldn't bear to remove his hands from her shoulders. Before he knew it, he was leaning closer to the spirited shinigami. . .

Rukia was petrified. Why was Ichigo acting so weird? And why was her skin shivering? Why did she suddenly feel like resting on his powerful chest? Powerful chest?! What was wrong with her?

She bit her lip when he finished peeling her shirt off. He hadn't moved his hands. She suddenly felt something ghosting across the right side of her head. She heard a small noise, and gasped, feeling pressure above and behind her ear. Had he just—? She was frozen for another moment before she realized he wasn't touching her anymore.

She spun to see Ichigo breathing heavily, head bent, fists clenched. He jumped up before she could say something and said, "Oi, Rukia, I'm so sorry, but I forgot I need to go to Chad's! If you need anymore help, look at my homework, or ask Karin when she gets home!" And with that, he sprinted out of the room, leaving Rukia in a state of utter confusion.

- - - - - - -

Conterra here!

Favorite Bleach characters: (not including Ichigo and Rukia) Renji and Chad

Favorite pairings: Ishihime, Ichiruki, Hitsu x Matsu, anyone with Byakuya (he needs a new girl), Renruki (even though I really want Ichiruki, I think this is riddiculously cute), Kisuke x Yoruichi (if he's not gay, which is highly doubtful)

I think you may have to wait about a week for the next chapter, I have a week from hell and have to edit Purple Steam, a Avatar fic on my combined account, CONTERRA-SANandBLACKVELVETBAND (the url has no dash in it if you are interested).

Please tell me how I did! Sorry if a bit OC, no idea how Ichigo would actually react. . .

More fluff next chapter, and other characters!

Sayonara,

Conterra-hime