This fic is rated MATURE. You should not be reading unless you're at least fourteen. (And for the dude who's counting- this is my responsible deed for the day.)
WALK LIKE A SHINIGAMI
first set: following fate off the cliff
1. DUSTING
You're nothing special.
"No? You don't think so?"
No.
He laughs, "Well, I have this to make me feel special."
A picture is shaking against the wall- only slightly. He watches it bounce forward and watches it fall back. It just quivers silently, unheard over the fuzz of loud voices; loud music; loud steps.
His left cheek rises, pulling his lips to the side. "Don't you want to feel special too?"
Yes. I want to feel special.
He twined a thin, pale finger into the man's red hair, "I'll make you feel so special."
2. JAMAIS VU
"For as long as I remember…" There was a pause before the teenager continued, "I've been able to see ghosts."
"Are they invisible?"
"What? No. I just said I was able to see them."
"I'm sorry. Please continue," insisted the man sitting across from him. He began to scratch down notes as he adjusted the thick frames of his glasses.
"Well, It's more of a nuisance really. What're you writing down?"
"Ichigo," he rasped. "How long have you been bleaching your hair?"
"I told you. It's natural."
"Yes, of course. My apologies. Then, shall we wrap things up for today?"
Bustling noises could be heard from down the hall. All of it made it hard to hear the voice traveling through the phone, "You need a ride home?"
"I'll walk."
"So… what did the doc have to say?"
"Not much."
"Son?"
"Hm?"
"We don't think your crazy. You don't need-"
"I know. I'm doing fine. I want to be here," the boy reported to his father. A sudden thud echoed behind him. "I've got to go Dad. Say hi to Karin and Yuzu for me." He hung up the phone and peeked over his shoulder. It was dark. The lights were dim and flickered out of sync. The boy squinted. He could make out a red glow from down the hall. It swayed with the nearing footsteps. A ghost, perhaps?
He shut his eyes and listened closer. He felt an abrupt draft of cigarette smoke enter his lungs; it left a bitter taste in his mouth. The steps got louder and he felt a passing of wind brush on his skin, as if someone had walked by him. He forced his eyes open. His gaze fell onto the broad shoulders that had passed him. He watched as the tall figure pitched the lit cigarette onto the carpet. His bright red hair was tied behind his head and he faded into the shadows.
Who was that? The boy exited the building, unsettled. A solid body, composed of matter able to create wind… so why couldn't I hear its heartbeat?
3. FOG
"You've been smoking again," her voice was low. Her eyes were fixed on the television screen as he entered the apartment. He rubbed his palms over his wind-chilled arms. He'd missed the bus. "See? Smoking gives you bad blood circulation. It's winter. You should dress warmer."
He forced out a breath of air. "Is Byakuya around?"
"At work 'til morning."
"Good. I'm gonna take a shower."
"Renji?"
"Rukia?"
"Don't smoke in my apartment."
…
Thunder woke him. It was not outside; the storm was in the next room. Something hit the ground, probably a chair. Two voices cracked. Screams and thumps like lightening and thunder. He rolled from the bed, tossing away the musty sheets. Rukia had never been one for laundry. He planted his feet on the dusty floors. Byakuya had never been one for sweeping. He passed through the storm in the next room.
"You fucking asshole! I hate you! God! Just fucking- fuck!" She was loud, angry.
"If you don't calm the fuck down, I'll kill you! Seriously! Here and now!" Byakuya was loud, angry. Renji passed behind them and entered the fridge. He'd never been one for chivalry.
4. YESTERDAY'S GHOST
"Tell me more about your social life, Ichigo."
"My social life?" He gave it some thought. "What in particular?"
"I would like you to tell me more about this new friend of yours," the man adjusted his glasses. "His name, hm," he shuffled through some papers.
"…Byakuya Kuchiki."
"Yes, that's him. Have you spoken with each other lately?"
"Last night. We work together at the gas station."
"I see."
"He's really the only person I talk to, but that's probably because he's the only guy in America, I know, that can speak fluent Japanese."
"You're having trouble settling in?"
"A bit. I miss Japan sometimes."
The air was sharp. Outside the building, Ichigo stood by the bus stop. Ice froze onto the sidewalk, its touch climbing onto the buildings and into the pale sky. Ichigo felt his body temperature lowering. It was cold.
A body moved beside him, enshrouding him in shadows. He glanced sideways at the stranger. The tall figure blotted out the sun. Its glowing edges obscured his face and cast it in darkness. There was the strike of a lighter and Ichigo breathed in a bitter smoke.
"Hope ya don't mind," the stranger said. His fingers were blanched in the cold. Ichigo shook his head. He couldn't speak. He tried not to stare at the man, but he seemed the sort to attract attention.
Inky lines jolted from his brows and into his jagged, red hairline. It was odd, uncommon. The stranger's eyes fell onto him, his red eyes. "You Ichigo Kurosaki by any chance? Or… Kurosaki Ichigo? It's all backwards in Japan, isn't it?"
Ichigo's mouth gaped.
"Yeah, I thought so." He left the cigarette rolling between his lips and offered his hand to Ichigo. "I'm Renji Abarai. I live with Byakuya Kuchiki. Your friends, no? I saw you at his work once. He talks about you sometimes."
"Oh," was all he could muster. He accepted the hand in formal greeting, feeling Renji's pulse beneath his pale flesh.
5. SLIP
Hands sought skin.
The air sank, heavy and hot. Unbearably hot. Fingers curled under Ichigo's shirt, lifting it over his head. He breathed heavy; his face flushed and sweating, his mouth receptive; taking.
Renji's hot tongue slid into his mouth; running along its roof. Air was sucked through the corners of their mouths. Tongues engaged. His heart thumping strongly, his had curled around Ichigo's damp nape; blood rushing wildly.
A mouth clamped onto Ichigo's neck. Below his jaw, he feels a gentle sucking. He hears himself breathing. Is it him? His hands grip onto Renji. He feels his body yield under a kiss. In his belly, desires stir. They ache. He craves.
"Renji," his voice is breathy, broken. He feels the mouth slide onto his chest. Renji's tongue licks his skin, causing a trickling in the boy's muscles. The sensation spreads, fading and returning again. His nipples harden. He grabs onto Renji's face, pulling it to his lips.
A shaky friendship forged; its awkward months passed into familiarity. Six months of confidence, all changed under a hidden lust. Their breaking point is reached. The result is thus: a tugging of flesh, a missed breath and two men kissing in someone else's apartment.
He whispers Renji's name. Both are friends, now lovers and in only seconds. An inclination for more is offered with a wandering hand. It creeps lower down Ichigo's thigh-
There's a knock at the door.
They pull apart.
Keep Reading?
