HMMMM some smut stuff i wrote because i was bored.
first one-shot, so.
no flames and all that. ~RBASA
The Mysterious Man
He was always just sitting there. Just sitting there in the corner of the club, sipping a glass of red wine and examining the scene before him with cold, green, calculating eyes.
Ichigo could drown in those eyes. They were so pure, so luminescent, so, so, so, green.
The ginger came to this club every Friday night, and that man was there without fail. He just sat there, never danced, never so much as tapped a foot to the music, just sat there and sat there and sipped his wine, staring at the bodies that swarmed the dance floor like animals.
Ichigo could only imagine what it would be like to see that man dance, that elegant, elegant man dancing near him, next to him, with him, against him.
His body was one to die for. Soft, silky black locks and long, long, legs clad in black jeans so tight it was like he was trying to make Ichigo squirm.
An elegant outfit for an elegant man, just a plain dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing smooth pale, strong forearms. The first two buttons of the shirt were undone, just begging Ichigo to march over there and rip the rest of them off, just so he could trail his fingers over that muscled torso and-
"Hey! Ichigo! You starin' at that guy again?" Grimmjow yelled over the music. He elbowed his friend's ribs and waggled his eyebrows, drink spilling onto Ichigo's shoes.
The strawberry held back his blush and opened his mouth to scold his friend for getting drunk once again, but-
"Just go over there and ask him."
The air flew out of him. "W-What?"
"Just go over there and ask the fucker to DANCE, dumbass!" Grimmjow snatched a fistful of Ichigo's shirt and heaved him up out of the bar stool and onto his feet, forcing him into the direction of the green-eyed man in the corner.
Ichigo thought there was no way he could do that, no way, because that man was too gorgeous and Ichigo was too, too, too something, and he could should would never have perfection like that man, sitting in the corner and swirling his wine around and making Ichigo drool with every single movement. No way.
But Grimmjow had already shoved him over there, and now those green green green eyes were locked with his, just a matter of meters away, and he couldn't look away, he couldn't look away even if he wanted to.
He was frozen in that one spot, just staring at the nameless man in the corner, but there were people trying to get to the bar and he was standing in the way. He had to move but he couldn't, he couldn't, he was frozen, trapped by those eyes that were so heavy, so intense, so green, licking emerald fire through his veins and he knew he looked stupid just standing there awkwardly, probably gaping and getting in everyone's way. Ichigo could drown in those eyes.
Grimmjow rolled his eyes.
The bluenette shoved the boy again and cackled as the strawberry almost fell over, but his job was done, and there was dancing that needed to be done.
Ichigo had plans of wheeling around and punching Grimmjow straight in the stomach, but as he righted himself once again, the air in his throat stopped.
He was a grand total of one meter away from the man, the elegant man in the corner with the green green eyes that pinned Ichigo's soul to the floor and kept it there. Ichigo could drown in those eyes.
He still had no expression, none at all, like Ichigo was just some other scum off the street, worth nothing, he was worth nothing to this God of a man and dammit, he never should have come here tonight.
But now the man was shifting, he was putting his glass on the table and the air in Ichigo's throat solidified, choking him, something dark and solid blocking his airways and now the man was starting to stand and dammit, what were lungs for, anyway? Worthless things.
Those green eyes bored into him and Ichigo thought he would explode as they moved closer, the man's body infinitely more elegant when in motion, taking one step, and another, and another, and now he was in right front of him. Ichigo thought he just might faint.
The man didn't say anything, just took Ichigo's hand in his, leading him out into the mass of bodies that were boucing and writhing and twisting to the thump thump thump that Ichigo wasn't sure was the bass or his pulse pounding in his ears.
He could only think that this was so wrong as the elegant, mysterious, green-eyed man began to move to the music, limbs flowing and turning with such control Ichigo thought he should this professionally. It was so wrong because this man was too perfect, too perfect, and Ichigo didn't deserve this, he didn't.
The man continued to sway and slither before him, slowly moving closer and God, this was beyond his wildest dreams, this was insane, this wasn't real, he didn't even know this man's name and-
All thought processes cut off when the man started grinding against Ichigo's frozen form. His brain imploded at the sensation, mind overloading and the world crumbling around them. His hands shot out of their own accord, gripping sharp hips and dragging them closer, closer, closer, never close enough, and swaying, the friction like heaven soaring though Ichigo's veins. His head bent down to explore the slightly shorter man's neck, all teeth and tongue and heat and God, Ichigo couldn't stand how delicious he was. Like mint and lust and-
Suddenly the mysterious man turned around, and Ichigo almost whimpered at the loss of contact, but his world ended all over again when the man, the delicious man in the corner who was not in the corner anymore, no, he was in his arms, started grinding against him face to face, bodies rubbing together like magnets, electricity sparking over every patch of skin that touched. The fire in Ichigo burned hotter and he stared into equally lustful green eyes, and he knew he had to get closer to this man, this beautiful man that was clutching the front of his shirt and scraping his hips along Ichigo's.
He had no idea what he was doing as he smashed his lips down on the other man's, those dual colored lips that were like yin and yang, parting only for Ichigo's tongue to explore.
Their grinding got fiercer and Ichigo's fingertips dug into the man's hips, tongues in a complicated, messy, delicious battle as their teeth clashed. He tasted like mint and rain and secrets and wine.
He pulled back for a breath and opened his eyes to meet those pure, pure, bright emerald orbs and he knew he never wanted this to end.
Ichigo could drown in those eyes.
~end~
yayy.
review, please, tell me if im any good at one-shots.
thanks for reading all the way through and all that. ^^ ~RBASA