"You should know that his price is very, very steep..." Ichigo steeled his nerves, "I can handle it, I'll see you later."
...
With a curse Ichigo dropped out of shunpo, and stumbled into Urahara's shop. Kisuke was there waiting for him with a tray of tea, cups and snacks. Ichigo took a look down at the tray, Kisuke's mischief-filled smile, and his own, small, lingering injuries. "... I hate you."
"Why? Too, ah, hot for you?" With a smirk, Kisuke reached for his already-filled cup of tea, fan in his other hand.
Ichigo grimaced at the blond man, "I expected something like a fucking blood-pact, not a bloody tea ceremony! I'm leaving."
A wicked, teasing edge crossed Kisuke's smirk, and he waved his fan at the retreating back of the redhead. "Hate to see you leaf! Love to watch you go~"
Ichigo peered over his shoulder, shot Kisuke an annoyed glare, and promptly told him: "Go fuck yourself, you pun-loving bastard!"
"Why, my beau-tea-ful Darjeeling, you're saying Ceylon you later? Pit-tea. Sencha leaving, we'll have to chai-t latte-r~"
...
The next time Ichigo saw the shopkeeper; it was, an unfortunately, unavoidable thing; the older man had another tea-ribble pun for him: "But aren't we just a matcha made in heaven? Won't you pu-erha please let me have a quick pekoe on the cheek?"
...
Every time after that, whenever Kisuke and Ichigo crossed paths, Kisuke always had a quip for the ginger:
"Oh my Roi-boo. I had no idea you felt this way for me, it's Grey-t. You're being awfully spicy. Don't'cha think so?"
"Naugh-tea, naugh-tea, my hibiscus, though you don't have to herbally assault me, I know how you feel honey."
"I'll have you falling for me before oolong... Faster than you can say 'Prince of Wales', you cu-tea!"
"I can't be-leaf you're being so an-tea; no need to stir the pot!"
"Keemun, dear, no need to be so cold. It's high tea-time you and I sat down for a spell, my storm-in-a-teacup~"
He was always so smug about the whole thing, too.