DISCLAIMER: Tite Kubo owns all things Bleach.

WARNINGS: anime-based, set somewhere between ep. 122 and 125. Only, Matsumoto and her taichou are momentarily staying at Ichigo's. Implied shounen-ai, very mild for this part though.

This one-shot will probably be the first out of three IchiHitsu fics I have in mind, depending on the feedback I get. =)

There's another A/N at the bottom of the page: you might need to sneak it a look someway throughout the reading if you're missing something. However, since it's bound to spoil the fun, do so at your own risk, and only if it's strictly needed! I suppose you'll know when it happens.

Please, enjoy! Remember, reviews are love *w*.

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Dark clouds were rolling their way over town, pushed and swayed by the first, still somewhat gentle winter breeze. Ichigo wasted little time looking up to the sky. Fall was so deeply engraved inside, deep to the very core of all Shinigamis currently staying in Karakura he didn't need to.

Inoue's words kept echoing through his mind. Old Yamamoto-san said we'll have to prepare for war. It… is going to be this winter. Truthfully, Ichigo knew better. Whatever the time, there just wasn't a point to preparing. All the training each of them could possibly afford would make no difference against things like that which had sent Rukia sprawling on her back with a nasty wound in her belly – and the guy hadn't even been trying. Jaggerjack Grimmjow. Ichigo clenched his fists unconsciously. Those were no enemies you put down by training, if Captain Hitsugaya's performance while facing a weakling was anything to go by.

Speaking of which. Ichigo's mind stopped dead in its tracks, just as the boy's legs stopped in front of the door to his house. He cast a quick glance at his wristwatch and sighed. There went Kurosaki afternoon showtime.

"Ichigo-oooo!"

The redhead got a handful of lion-shaped plush upon barely stepping over the threshold. Ichigo slammed the irritating stuffed animal against the nearest wall. "Get the hell off me, Kon."

"Bur 'sssnot FAIR!" A muffled cry came from the general direction of the kaizō konpaku as it scrambled to get back on its feet. "How come Orihime-san got a brand new TV and we're stuck with this? Don't fucking ignore me, Kurosaki, you useless poor excuse for a Shin – " The voice shut off as a well-aimed pillow hit the lion's head, temporarily knocking the whining thing out.

Truth be told, Ichigo mused to himself, gaze wandering about the bedroom from corner to corner, Kon's indignation was not out of place in the slightest. One moment of stillness and a deeper intake of breath was all it took for the teen to finally lose it.

"WHADDA FUCK D'YOU TWO THINK U'RE DOING TO MY ROOM?"

The two in question, being none other than lieutenant Matsumoto and Captain Hitsugaya, simply stared back from their oh-so-importune positions, showing no sign of regret whatsoever. "Ah, well, I'm sort of happy you asked, Ichigo, since Captain and I just learned how this is called today!" The honey-haired woman flashed him a grin which could easily pass as seductive, making no move to climb off the windowsill in the meantime.

Kurosaki had a hand plastered over his face in a poor attempt at regaining his composure. "You are…"

"Smoking, that's right!" Matsumoto chirped ever so gaily, the arm holding her cigarette waving around to spread the smoke in all directions. "At least, that's how we were told it's called. It's crazy, really, you'd never believe, we got nothing…"

"Where. Did you. Take those?"

"… nothing like this in the whole Soul Society! I guess souls don't really need nicotine to go by, but it's just crazy how – "

"I ASKED WHERE the fuck did you find those cigarettes?" Ichigo barked, eyes glowing with outrage, then launched forward to snatch the white cylinder out of the woman's hand. "AS FOR YOU, geroff my BED right – "

The words were caught in his throat at the sight coming into focus as he turned his head. Ice cold prodigy Hitsugaya-taichou was lying carelessly on the covers, back languidly resting against the bed head, a cigarette in his right hand, and – what puzzled Ichigo the most – taking long, slow drags like he didn't have a single care in the world. It was… quite a sight to behold, honestly.

Uncharacteristic sounded like the understatement of the century.

However, at least one typical trait had stuck, as Kurosaki was about to acknowledge. The kid captain rose, lifting himself on the elbows, just enough to give the homeowner a pointed look, one that clearly said go ahead and finish the sentence, if you dare. "Chill out, Kurosaki. You're giving me headache."

"That is all the nicotine in your system." Ichigo grunted, but pressed the bed matter no further. God knows he really didn't feel like messing with a captain right now, especially not the damn brat. Still frustrated over the growing cloud of smoke polluting the air in his bedroom, the redhead turned to harass Matsumoto, currently fumbling with the pack in her hands. "Don't you even dare light another up! Will you tell me how on earth you got those already?"

Groaning in pity for her spoiled fun, the gorgeous lieutenant replied around a pout. "Like you get everything else down here, Ichigo – we bought them."

"But why would you do that if you had no idea what they were?"

The fair-haired woman shrugged. "We were doing the usual grocery shopping and all the colourful packets caught my eye. I asked Captain about it, and since he too was curious we got them. Come o-on, boy! It's no big deal! You really need to get rid of all that tension, you know. It's bad for your health."

Somewhere deep inside Hichigo began screaming for his king to relieve that tension alright. The substitute Shinigami had to shut his eyes tightly to suppress the cry in his head. "I've got the feeling I'm gonna regret asking, but how did you figure how they are used?"

"We asked!"

Regret yet. "You asked."

"Yeah, there was this charming man at the, how's it called? Supermarket. He was very kind to us and gave every bit of explanation we could possibly need!"

Ichigo couldn't help but moan in horror. "You asked a supermarket attendant how to smoke?"

A lower, much deeper voice came up with the answer. "There were no written instructions."

Genius my goddamn ass! "Of course there weren't, nobody… everyone knows how to smoke, and even if they don't, they just don't go around asking shop employees!" Ichigo sputtered, teeth clashing dangerously inside his mouth. "So much for keeping a low profile! How many times have we gone through this already? The least attention you draw on you the best. Soon this town'll face the most vicious war that's ever been, and when things they cannot see start blowing up buildings questions are bound to arise. Politicians and TV reporters will search for an easy target. We gotta stay beyond any suspicion." The carrot-haired youth took in a deep breath to calm down. As the sour aftertaste slipped into his lungs like poison, though, all efforts proved useless.

Then a rustling noise caught his attention. Ichigo turned to see Hitsugaya rise on his knees and slide toward the edge of the bed, closer to where the redhead was standing.

Oi, king…

Ichigo stiffened, both at the unwelcome awakening in his head and the increasing proximity the captain's shifting was causing.

… don't fuck with me…

Toshiro stopped right in front of the human soul reaper, the tip of a cigarette hanging all the while from the thin crack of his lips.

… you not scared of this child, 're ya?

Warm and thick, a puff of smoke seeped past the taichou's half-opened mouth, coming to land right across Ichigo's tense face.

That, most literally, blew it.

As his nostrils were filled with the foul smell, Ichigo gasped in utter bewilderment. When Hitsugaya didn't pull back, the youth's mind started racing. What the hell was that just now? What's it s'posed to mean? That he'd blow out smoke in my face, like – wait, wait, you big asshole, set your brain at work. He probably doesn't even know what it is he's doing. Hell, he had no idea what a cigarette was until this morning! Get your mind outta the gutter right away, you giant fucker.

"Relax, Kurosaki."

Such appropriated words. Too bad they were followed by a second puff of smoke in ridiculously close proximity.

Seriously, king?

"Throwing fits like you're doing only suits little girls."

Ichigo felt his jaw clench the same moment his eyes were drawn to the slim figure before him. Not once had he been this close to the ice master – hell, he strongly doubted anyone beside Matsumoto ever had or wanted to – and it was starting to affect him funnily. Like, who knew the young genius's eyes could shine three different shades of turquoise in the flash of an instant?

Was that even a thought? Keep doing that, ye pansy, and I swear I'll buck yer sorry ass off!

A cool stillness washed over Ichigo in reaction (more like, due to the latent outbursts of Hitsugaya's reiatsu) and the teen smirked. He wasn't letting go of a positively exceptional chance to mess with the kid, that much was sure. "Tch. Play the smartass at your will when we're in Seiretei, Toshiro, since you're utterly clueless when it comes to the world of the living."

The white-haired Shinigami hadn't backed up an inch since his first approach. "It's Hitsugaya-taichou for you." The growl came out mechanically.

"Whateva." Ichigo dismissed the protest nonchalantly, then grinned at yet another puff of smoke blown out right in his face. "There you go again. Trust me, you'd so stop doing it if you knew what it means!"

Lieutenant Matsumoto stared in disbelief as, for the first time while verbally confronted, Toshiro seemed taken aback. The whole conversation made little sense to her, but hey – whoever left the 'lil prodigy at a loss for words surely deserved to hold the stage for a while! Barely stifling her giggles, the blonde shifted more comfortably on the windowsill and set to enjoy the show.

"I'm not doing anything."

Ichigo couldn't help but smirk at the faltering in the other boy's voice. "Yeah, well, I wasn't expectin' you to know."

Hitsugaya stilled, cigarette slowly burning away in his hand. When he set to take another drag, the redhead's lips arched provokingly, effectively chilling his move. "Stop being a jerk, Kurosaki!" The young captain spat, visibly annoyed.

My, my. So childish.

Ichigo smiled at his inner counterpart.

Both of ya. Honess'ly, king, ye're draggin' it on way too fucking long!

His beaming wavered, as the substitute Shinigami mentally grunted back at Hichigo. Shut up. This'll teach them not to snoop around my world. "I might be a jerk, but at least I'm not a fa – "

Ha, ya sure ya wanna say that?

All traces of the smug, distant expression usually painted on Hitsugaya-taichou's cute baby face had disappeared. The boy's features were twisted in a somewhat frustrated grimace. "Enough already. Spit it out, Kuro – nngah! Shit!"

"Taichou!" Matsumoto instinctively jumped to the rescue, eyes wide at the sight of her stony-faced captain wriggling his right hand as though he'd been bitten by a tarantula. "What the hell? Your fingers burnt?" She took the boy's palm in her own hand to give them a close look. "Ah, so clumsy, taichou! What did that nice guy at the shop say about only smoking up to the filter?" Her voice was light and condescending – a tone Ichigo strongly doubted anybody else would ever get away with using when addressing Hitsugaya

"Stop fussing, Matsumoto!" Toshiro all but growled, hastily retreating his hand from the woman's hold. "I'm fine." Stormy ocean eyes then turned to cast an overall impressive glare. "Would you mind explain what the hell was all that about, Kurosaki, you downright idiot?"

A funny feeling set at the pit of the redhead's stomach. It made his insides crunch with something akin to… pity, sympathy, amusement. Not the ne, aren't you one pathetic bastard? kind of amusement, though. This was… somewhat tender. Ichigo had to bite his lower lips to hide the smile threatening to rise. "You were flirting with me."

Chilling reiatsu peaked for a moment. Toshiro regained control right away. "I was what?"

Ichigo let out a snort. "This is one more reason why you shouldn't get mixed up with other human beings. When you blow out smoke in someone's face like you were doing with me, Toshiro, it usually means you're hitting on them."

Blissfully oblivious to Matsumoto's sudden gasp and consequent fit of giggles, the white-haired genius shot a quick glance to his zanpakutō (resting peacefully against the opposite wall) then back to the carrot-top Shinigami. "I wasn't going to hit you."

Gods, is he even serious? Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Hit on somebody means you wanna shag 'em, you dense moron. That's what you were doing by smoking like that. Don't ever, ever try that when you're out in public, ya hear me?"

"It's Hitsugaya-taichou." The prodigy automatically corrected, though Ichigo couldn't help noticing his eyes were glassy and slightly unfocused. Then Toshiro lowered his gaze, suddenly looking very interested in the bedspread pattern. "Say, Kurosaki…"

"Huh?"

For what could easily be the first time ever, the 10th division captain's cheeks turned bright pink as a treacherous blush slowly spread from his neck up. "Wha – I… Shag. I mean. What does – Matsumoto!"

Living for entire decades side by side with someone, even as unreadable as Hitsugaya Toshiro, eventually provides a short to perfect knowledge of their every quirk, look, change in expression. That's how the blonde lieutenant was able to catch the drift immediately and supply for the missing bit of info by rushing to whisper something in the puzzled genius's ear.

Ichigo had thought Toshiro's cheeks couldn't possibly get any redder. Ichigo had apparently thought wrong.

"I – I… see." The captain nearly choked on his own words, as the older fuktaichou pulled back snickering. "Then… we – " Hitsugaya bit back a tiny moan of frustration. "Matsumoto!"

"Hai, taichou?"

"Throw away these damned things. I'm not having quickies with anyone."

As the well-endowed woman and her superior began bickering ("But taichou, we used Orihime-chan's money to pay for them, and the pack's still half full! It's such a waste!"), Ichigo waged his own inner battle to silence Hichigo's mischievous shouting.

Kid Taichou doesn't like quickies? Well then, gotta make it long n' thorough for him, ne, king?

Shut your trap! The demi-hollow shook his head hard to ignore the obnoxious laughter at the back of his mind. Why would Shiro even say something like that? No fucking way Ichigo could ever be… Cool down. 's just for the sake of teasing, as always.

But as the picture of a laid-back, nonchalant Toshiro lying on the bed – lips tight around the cigarette, legs slightly parted for comfort, that was quite a sight, wasn't it? Hell, he looked positively… – began relentlessly playing in his brain, Ichigo found himself fighting to swallow the lump in his throat.

That so wasn't happening.

Teal blue eyes drifted to lock with fiery brown ones. "And, just for the record… if we were in Seiretei, you'd be harshly punished for even implying what you did, Kurosaki." Hitsugaya's voice lowered to an aggravated mumble. "Having such lewd thoughts about a captain… now, that's what we should really use the Sōkyoku for."

Punishments, huh? This could turn out pretty interesting after all!

Ichigo groaned a silent curse in his head.

Go for it, king!

Shit. I'm so fucked up.

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A/N: Since I'm not 100% sure whether the whole "blowing smoke in someone's face means you wanna have sex with them" is just European common knowledge or worldwide spread, I'm setting things straight with this A/N so that everyone gets the joke. =) Naughty little Toshiro!

Well, that was it for now. More IchiHitsu intercourse to come! Keep a close eye on my profile page if you liked this. ;-)

Thank you very much for reading! Plz, drop a review on your way out :3.