Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Ichigo hated parties. They were loud; with bad music, bad lighting and far too many people. People he didn't even recognize. Why was he even here? It was only the end of his first semester. It wasn't even the end of the year. It felt like he still had another lifetime before summer break. But then again, this was college. According to everyone else–including his roommate–you never really needed a reason to party.

That probably explained why he was here. His damn roommate probably wanted the company for the car ride. Obviously, he hadn't wanted him around enough to hang with him once they reached the party. Ichigo grumbled snidely. The RoomMatch Roommate Service really fucked that one up. Yukikowas worse than Kiego. As cold as Ichigo would be to him, Yukiko seemed hell-bent on spending time with Ichigo as much as possible. At least until he found better friends to ditch him for. Or girls. Yukiko didn't understand Ichigo's detached attitude towards women, and would often leave him to search for chicks whenever they went places. Not that Ichigo minded. He never wanted to be around Yukiko in the first place. Like with Kiego, he just felt obligated.

Ichigo sighed. It wasn't that he was too nice, but he couldn't just outwardly hate someone if they didn't do anything wrong. Yukiko was annoying, sure, but he wasn't the only person Ichigo hung out with who tended to get on his nerves. Maybe Ichigo just needed to learn how and when to say 'no' to some people.

Like when he was invited to this party. This party was easily one of those that Ichigo would look back on several years from now and make an unpleasant face. Sadly, many of his memories since leaving high school had been stored in that category. He missed his family and his friends from back in Karakura and he missed the Soul Society. He missed Hollow hunting and the adventure of being a Shinigami.

Maybe college was a mistake, Ichigo thought. It wasn't at all what he expected. His classes all had very little learning and his nights had very little sleep. Everything he did for fun seemed forced and boring. He should have just stayed home and learned the medical trade from his father, like Isshin had offered. He hadn't learned hardly anything new, anyway. Except that college students would try and drink just about anything under the table when they're given the chance.

Ichigo looked around. Even the tight-assed Dean's List kids were letting loose: playing some sort of drinking game off in the corner. It's not that the first semester had been particularly difficult, but it could still be considered a milestone. Sure, it didn't feel like much, but it was that much closer to graduation.

"Ichigo! I finally found you!" Ichigo suddenly crashed painfully to the floor with the force of someone tackling him from behind. "I missed you so much! You know, it's really not nice to leave town without telling any of your friends where you're going. It was very degrading, asking your father. He always asks questions no one wants to answer. And he'll never keep a secret."

Ichigo's face was still buried into the hard title floor, making it impossible for him to see who was now perched comfortably on the small of his back. "Not even Sado-kun knew where you went. Were you planning on never coming back or something?"

Ichigo tried to sit up. "No one ever asked–" He started to say, but hesitated. The voice was slurred with obvious drunkenness but he still managed to recognize it. "Ishida?" He wheeled around and squinted through the dim pulsing lights. Ishida Uryuu beamed down at him, still seated in his lap. "Ishida, Jesus, are you drunk?"

Ishida giggled. "Yeah…" Ichigo blinked. His stunned silence made Ishida bristle. "Well, it's not my fault! I have social anxiety! I had to have a drink to calm down around all these people!"

"Yeah, a drink. Not seven! You are loaded off your ass!"

Ishida laughed again, louder this time. "Yeah…" Ichigo gawked at him. He'd never seen the Quincy this relaxed. He tried to remember a time when he'd heard Ishida laugh before, but couldn't even think of one. "I missed you, Ichigo." Ishida admitted again, bringing something to Ichigo's attention that he hadn't taken notice of before.

"You're calling me Ichigo. Good god, how many drinks did you have?" Ishida shrugged, still smiling. Ichigo cringed. "I think you need some fresh air, okay?" He shoved Ishida off of him to get to his feet before taking Ishida by the wrist and pulling him out the front door. "Come on."

It was about four in the morning, by the looks of it. The sun was peaking over the horizon and casting grey shadows over the dewy grass. Ichigo walked over to take a seat on a nearby park bench, and Ishida followed. "Why'd you come here?" Ichigo finally asked, "Is something wrong?" Ishida blinked at him, and then shook his head.

"No."

Ichigo nodded. "Are you sure? No one needs me at home or anything?" For a moment, Ishida just stared blankly at him, looking almost offended.

"I never said that." Ishida whispered indignantly. Slightly taken aback, Ichigo was about to ask for details, but Ishida cut him off before he could open his mouth. "Why didn't you tell anyone where you were going?" He snapped dangerously, "Why'd you just leave without a word to anyone?" Ichigo shrugged.

"I don't know…it just seemed like it would've been easier if I didn't–"

"Easier for whom, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo noticed he was no longer calling him by his given name. He flinched. He hadn't meant to hurt anyone's feelings. "I don't know…Did you guys really miss me that much? Didn't everyone else go their own way, too?"

"I don't give a rat's ass about everyone else!"

It was silent and Ichigo shifted uncomfortably with realization. Ishida looked away, letting Ichigo process the haphazard confession. Neither of them spoke for a while, and then Ishida suddenly cleared his throat. "I'm sorry." He muttered softly. There was a long pause. "It's not that I…I mean; it's just that…when I first started asking around and no one knew…I thought you were dead."

Ichigo laughed. "You worry way too much. I'm fine, alright? College doesn't even give me time to be a Shinigami. Right now they have some other half-wit patrolling the area." Ishida still didn't look convinced. "I swear! I haven't been a Shinigami since I lived in Karakura. Not once." Ishida glared at him. Ichigo wondered how someone could be so intimidating while they were so unsteady on their own two feet. He seemed almost sober now.

Almost as if he could sense Ichigo's suspicion, Ishida got to his feet. "I need another drink." He said haughtily, starting his way across the wet grass. Ichigo grabbed his arm.

"Oh no you don't. You have anymore and you might start getting sick." Ishida turned back and smiled arrogantly, glancing briefly at Ichigo's hand on his elbow.

"Oh? Now who's worried?"

Ichigo scoffed, but didn't let go. "This is completely different. I went to college and you assumed I was dead. You can't remember how many drinks you've had already, so I'm assuming having any more will make you retch. It seems a little more likely, don't you think?"

"No need to mother me, Kurosaki. I know my own limits."

"Are you sure? You look like a bit of a lightweight." Ichigo smirked.

"Fuck you!" Ishida fumed.

"Chill, I'm only kidding! Jesus, you sure swear a lot when you're drunk."

Ishida said nothing and sat back down, apparently having lost the interest of another drink. Ichigo didn't move his fingers from around his arm, foolishly worried that Ishida would jump up and leave once he did. Ishida smiled to himself, then, without warning, leaned forward and captured Ichigo's lips in his.

It happened faster than the switch of a light. Before Ichigo had a chance to blink, Ishida pressed him roughly against the bench and straddled his waist, clinging to his collar as he kissed him hungrily. It took a second for Ichigo to finally react. He pushed Ishida away, catching his breath before he spoke. "Ishida…you're really wasted. You'll regret this."

"Will you?"

"What kind of question–?"

"A simple one." Ishida cut in sharply, "Answer it."

Ichigo said nothing for a moment, so Ishida began nipping gently at his neck. "You're not saying anything, so I'll assume your answer is no." Ishida murmured, nuzzling gently into the crook of Ichigo's neck. Ichigo struggled with trying to speak, but Ishida was ignoring him anyway. "I missed you so much, Ichigo…" Ishida sounded breathless against Ichigo's ear, and Ichigo could almost feel his heartbeat.

Ichigo felt his eyes slide closed as Ishida dragged his nails up his nape. "Ishida…" He'd meant to sound foreboding, but it came out as a heady moan. "We can't do this." Ishida clawed gently at his scalp again, as if he hadn't heard him. Ichigo cleared his throat and tried again, a little more forcefully. "Ishida, this isn't…" he faltered at the feel of Ishida kissing a trail down his neck. He gasped when Ishida slid his hands up his shirt, but didn't move to stop him. "…a good idea." He finally finished, involuntarily arching into Ishida's fingernails.

"That never used to stop you."

It was his voice that was so intoxicating, Ichigo decided. He had always sound so composed in high school. Hearing him so desperate and hushed was alluring. When Ishida went back for another kiss, Ichigo responded hesitantly, his grip briefly tightening on Ishida's shoulders.

"Stop thinking, Kurosaki. It doesn't suit you." One of Ishida's hands grazed gently down Ichigo's chest to stop tantalizingly at the waist of his jeans. Ichigo grunted, and there was a slight twitch in his hips that could've almost gone unnoticed. Ishida frowned at his hesitance. "Please, Ichigo…" Ichigo seemed to consider it more when Ishida called him by his given name.

"We can't…not here…people will start leaving soon, and–"

"I have a car."

Ichigo made the mistake of thinking that his statement meant that they could go somewhere else. Like home. His misconception was disproved when Ishida shoved him in the backseat and followed closely behind, shutting the door after him. Ichigo was amazed at what a couple of drinks could do to Ishida's disposition.

"Private enough for you?"

Honestly, Ichigo would've preferred more privacy, but this would have to do, because Ishida was taking off his pants. Before Ichigo could come up with an answer, Ishida grumbled, "Good." It was hard to argue with someone who ignored what he said before he even spoke. Not like it mattered; Ichigo doubted he would've said no. He never said no.

Ichigo would've been lying if he would have said he never expected this. Even before tonight, Ichigo had always thought Ishida seemed less interested in girls than even he was. The way Ishida treated Ichigo was much more cold and distant than he treated the others, and while Ishida used to insist because he was a Shinigami, Ichigo had often entertained the idea that it was something more like this. He wasn't sure why, maybe some kind of subconscious wishful thinking.

Ishida was sucking tenderly at the crook of Ichigo's neck–making it impossible for him to protest the fact that he was being prepared. He certainly couldn't say no now, not when it felt as good as it did. He reached up and grasped a handful of Ishida's hair. Ishida purred in response, his teeth grazing softly against Ichigo's skin. "Ishida…" Ichigo groaned softly, pressing his hips persistently into Ishida's.

Ishida paused momentarily. He pulled his mouth away to say something, but thought better of it and took hold of Ichigo's chin to pull him into another kiss. Ichigo responded lazily, feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen. The air in the car was already too hot to sooth his lungs, gone humid with the steam of breath and sweat.

"…want you…" Ichigo couldn't tell which one of them had spoken once the kiss had separated, but it didn't matter. Ishida growled possessively, hoisting Ichigo into his lap and driving forward in one fluid motion. Ichigo let out a gasp of pain and gripped Ishida's shoulders. Ishida didn't move for a while, and Ichigo cracked an eye open to see what was wrong. Ishida was staring at him contemplatively. He leaned down so that his mouth was against Ichigo's ear.

"You're beautiful."

Feeling embarrassed, Ichigo laughed. "You're really gay."

"Says the man with my dick in his ass."

As if to prove his statement, Ishida pushed deeper. Ichigo was instantly humbled with an excited moan, pressing back against Ishida's hips in response. "Don't…don't stop." He pleaded quietly, clenching Ishida's shoulders tightly. Ishida complied wordlessly, busying his mouth on Ichigo's neck again. Ichigo was starting to feel lightheaded again.

It was getting harder to breathe, and Ichigo was left gasping. His whimpering pleas were steadily getting louder and more urgent until Ishida couldn't take it anymore. With a shuttering groan, he let go, Ichigo writhing helplessly underneath him, mewling pleadingly. Without a word, Ishida took hold of Ichigo's erection, reliving him within seconds before collapsing on top of him.

As Ichigo slowly felt his heart rate slow to normal, he felt Ishida return to kissing lazily at his neck and wondered how he'd explain the pattern of hickeys to his family on his first night home. He toyed idly with Ishida's hair as he considered his options. He doubted he could hide them from his father–as stupid as he was, even the old goat wouldn't believe they were injuries from a hollow fight.

"I love you, Ichigo."

Ichigo looked down at the boy nestled cozily against his chest, slowly drifting to sleep. "No, you're drunk." Ichigo corrected patronizingly, still petting back the other's hair. Ishida laughed.

"No, I'm not."

"Huh?"

Ichigo moved to sit up against the car door, getting a better look at Ishida in the face. "I'm not drunk." Ishida repeated evenly, "I lied. If I pretended to be drunk and you shoved me away, it would be easier to forget about. Well, at least for you." There was a short pause, and Ichigo couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Ishida. "I wasn't planning on faking it, but college parties only ever have that vile cheap beer that comes in cans."

Ichigo stared blankly at him. "You're serious?" he asked after a moment of dead silence, blinking stupidly.

"Mm." Ishida responded vaguely, going back to suckling at Ichigo's neck. "I missed you so much, Ichigo…" He crooned quietly, still nuzzling against his skin.

Ichigo didn't know exactly what to say. Ishida wasn't drunk. It was a façade. He knew what he was doing the whole time–with the car, the kiss, lunging at him. He had been completely sober. "Ishida…" Ichigo started warily, "I was only gone for six…" he trailed off as he felt Ishida's fingers toying with his hair. "…months." he finished slowly. Ishida didn't say anything for a moment, and Ichigo didn't have to look to know that he was asleep. His breathing was too deep and even for him to still be awake. He smiled. "I missed you, too, Ishida."

Ichigo lay silent for a moment, idly petting back Ishida's hair as he watched the sun finish rising through the open sunroof. He wondered if Yukiko had left without him yet, or if the party was still going strong. He shifted slightly to look out the window at the house. The cars that he had noticed before were still parked outside, and it didn't look like anything was dying down. For a moment he considered waking up Ishida driving off from the crowd that was sure to come filing out eventually, but decided against it.

He rooted around the floor of the car to find his jacket, and was surprised to find a folded Egyptian cotton blanket under the seat. He smirked. "Seme or uke, you're still the gayer one." he muttered quietly to the sleeping boy as he spread the blanket over them and went to sleep.

FIN

A/N: Yeah, I did this for a drabble theme "sex and drugs" I know I kinda cheated, but Ishida and Ichigo don't seem like they'll be staring in Trainspotting II anytime soon, so I had to make do. XD; Regardless, I like it alright, which is something new for me. Ha.