Hi there. It's me...I'm still alive and kicking. I've been so swamped by RL that I couldn't conjure up the much-needed energy and concentration to update The Stranger and Lights, Camera, Action!, but here's a quick oneshot. "Random pornage", to quote a reader of one of my other oneshots.
Thank you all so much for being patient with me. I'll be traveling out of the country this weekend for my wedding, and some of you might know what this means. ;) Fourteen hours of writing on the plane, yay!
Tangerine brows furrowed as moonlight revealed the silhouette of a tall, broad-shouldered man leaning against the wall. The figure, though cloaked by darkness, was easily identified. Night after night, Ichigo would return to his office after hours with the hope of completing his tasks uninterrupted; yet night after night, he would find that he was not alone.
"I thought I told you to stop doing this," he commented before hanging up his coat. With a graceful flick of his finger, light flooded the small space.
He tried his best not to turn his head as the rustling of clothes indicated that his visitor had left his position by the wall. Alas, as with every night, he failed. A brief glance was all it took to bring forth the triumphant grin on to the other man's face.
"But you know you don't really mean it," the man countered teasingly. With a few long strides, the intruder closed their distance and placed one palm flat against Ichigo's chest.
Ichigo let out a sigh. "I do," he grumbled even as he was gently pushed into his black leather office chair. His following protests were silenced as his taller companion leaned over him and latched onto his lips. Unconsciously, Ichigo raised his hand and curled his fingers in the shirt above him. Strong, rapid heartbeats thrummed beneath his touch, immediately kicking his pulse a notch higher.
"We shouldn't do this," he whined into the eager mouth that was busy devouring his.
The only response came in the form of a sharp nip on his lower lip. His eyes slid closed as the kiss was deepened further, the increasingly aggressive play of tongue and teeth threatening to push him beyond the point of coherence. He could only groan, a mixture of frustration and lust, and tighten his grip on the garment in his fist.
Finally, after another playful bite, his visitor pulled away. Ichigo panted lightly as he peered into the endless depths of sapphire in front of him, finding himself fully aroused despite his initial reluctance.
"Shall I stop now?" his visitor asked mischievously.
It was clear, though, that even if Ichigo had said yes, they would not stop. Not that he really wanted to, at this point. The bastard knew it and was simply milking it for his own entertainment.
"If you stop now, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques..." Ichigo said darkly, "I swear you will be walking out of here without a certain body part."
"Ouch," his blue-haired companion winced, though the man's expression remained playful. "We can't have that now, can we?"
With a swift tug, Ichigo found himself out of his seat and on the desk, his bottom planted firmly on top of the document that he was supposed to sign. For a fleeting moment, he smirked at the image of his unsuspecting superior flipping through the document the next day.
Grimmjow's smile widened knowingly. "Mmm," he licked his lips with a twinkle in his eyes. "I wonder what Director Kuchiki would say..."
Unable to resist, Ichigo laughed out loud. "He'd kill me," he chuckled while leaning forward to brush his lips against his partner's.
A nimble tongue flicked out to lave over his sensitive lower lip, and he moaned softly, shuddering involuntarily when strong, corded arms gripped his hips. Grimmjow stepped between his parted legs and ground their bodies together. Even clothed under layers of cotton boxers and jeans, the heat and friction was still enough to send a jolt through Ichigo's spine.
"Grimm..." he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. The sound ripped an answering groan from the taller male, and the skilled mouth descended upon Ichigo's once more.
Zippers were tugged down roughly, buttons undone almost frantically, shirts flung onto the carpeted floor, then with a thud, two pairs of jeans landed heavily at Grimmjow's feet. Ichigo bit back a cry when a hot, calloused hand slipped into the opening at the front of his boxers and began to stroke him. Pleasure coursed through his veins under those gifted fingers, and he bucked his hips, wordlessly urging his lover on. With his eyes closed, he reached down and did the same; Grimmjow's skin silky and overheated in his fist as he pumped in sync with the rhythm that the other man had set.
But when he felt himself beginning to gasp and twitch uncontrollably in Grimmjow's hand, he seized his lover's hand to stop him. This was not how he wanted the fun to end. Grimmjow dropped his forehead onto Ichigo's shoulders as he, too, struggled to catch his breath.
"God, Ichi," Grimmjow panted, his hips still rocking slowly against Ichigo's arousal. "I want you so bad."
"Mm hmm." Ichigo took hold of the waistband of his lover's boxers and pulled, gradually revealing well defined obliques and prominent hip bones, followed by a pair of tanned, firm thighs. With another tug, the garment fell on top of the pair of jeans on the floor.
Ichigo raised his bottom off the desk to allow the removal of his underwear, then they were joined again, bare skin against bare skin, their arousals hot and heavy between them. Eventually, Ichigo was guided onto his back, on top of the sheets of forms and other miscellaneous documents on his desk. Again, the mental image of a clueless Director Kuchiki looking through those soon-to-be-tainted paperwork fleeted through his mind, and he chuckled.
"Stop thinking about your boss, sheesh," Grimmjow ground out, somehow managing to roll his eyes even as he stared down at the willing body spread out in front of him.
Whatever retort Ichigo had on his tongue was lost when Grimmjow entered him suddenly, stretching and filling him with one smooth thrust. Twin groans escaped from the back of their throats, long and drawn out until Grimmjow was fully seated inside of him.
"F-fuck..." Grimmjow gasped, his forehead pressed against Ichigo's chest.
Ichigo could feel the slight tremors in his lover's muscles as the man forced himself to remain still, to allow Ichigo to adjust to the sensation. While he appreciated the gesture, he had little patience for it tonight. Biting his lower lip, he raised his hips and hooked his legs around Grimmjow's thighs.
"Move," he grunted when Grimmjow lifted his head to look at him questioningly.
Grimmjow's lips curled into a grin immediately. The man pulled back, closed his eyes, and snapped his hips forward. The sharp, almost blinding pleasure that accompanied the movement sent Ichigo screaming and arching his back, his toes curling and fingers clawing at his lover's forearms. There was a brief pause, then Grimmjow withdrew slowly and surged back in with nearly brutal force, wringing another howl from Ichigo.
The next few moments were a blur as they lost themselves in the familiar rhythm of their lovemaking, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Ichigo felt as though he was drowning in bliss, surrounded by his lover's intoxicating scent, touch, and voice. Every time Grimmjow was sheathed inside of him, he was pushed one step closer to the edge, towards the release that he so badly needed. He felt himself clench around Grimmjow, heard the man growl in reply. Grimmjow began to stroke him, nudging him even closer. The heat that pooled in his belly grew, throbbing, swirling...and then, just as he thought he couldn't take it anymore, his world exploded.
It was as though time had frozen. Ichigo's mouth fell open, a strangled cry on his lips, his head thrown back. He heard a loud thud as the back of his head hit the desk, but he felt nothing but euphoria. The grip on his hips tightened almost painfully, then, with a loud, breathless moan, Grimmjow joined him, both of them basking in the peak of pleasure.
Outside, Kuchiki Byakuya stared at the closed door, torn between the impulse to reprimand his subordinate for engaging in such...activities at the workplace and the urge to flee. Inwardly, he berated himself for making the poor decision of dropping by his office - which was next door - at such a late hour. All he had really meant to do was to pick up the paperwork that he had so carelessly left behind...
His eyes widened suddenly as he looked down at the document in his hands. Without a word, he turned on his heels and headed for the paper shredder.
The End.