Author's note:

'Alo, 'alo! I am seldelaterre and this is my very FIRST fanfiction ever. Not first to be posted, not first to be about Bleach, but first EVER! I've written a lot before, but always with my own characters. This is the first time I'm using somebody else's and while I'm obviously taking some liberties- I really hope that I can manage to stay true to the original framework at LEAST some degree!

So I'd really appreciate any feedback you guys have- just click the little review button and flame/critique away!

-saltoftheearth-

Pairings: Eventual Ichigo 3Uryu, but it's just the first chapter, sillies!

Disclaimer: No owny bleachy. There would be more internal monologue (read: man love) if I did.

So Let's Put Wallpaper Up Between Our Ears

Chapter One: "Captain Make-it-Worse Strikes Again!"

Ichigo was proud of himself for having blundered through the summer with nothing fantastically groundbreaking occurring. A Hollow here, a Bount there- nothing he couldn't handle. Sure, he'd never quite gotten used to waking up in the middle of the night and realizing that a tall, kinda spooky redhead (one Mr. Abarai) was sitting on his chest or rummaging through his stuff due to the Shinigami's seemingly incurable insomnia (why couldn't he just STAY in Urahara's shop!). He definitely hadn't gotten used to Renji's violent idea of what a kiss should be or Renji's constant pressure to "go further"…but in general it had been a good summer.

He was secretly glad when trouble in Soul Society called his pseudo-boyfriend away and forced them apart.

Summer had gotten to be so uneventful toward the end that he managed to shove in a little bit of preemptive studying- he felt totally prepared for the upcoming year in school.

What he wasn't prepared for was a glaringly good looking new boy sitting in Ishida Uryuu's seat. Not that Ichigo particularly cared, but he didn't want the melancholy Quincy emoing around trying to find a new seat and potentially landing next to Ichigo. There was a good ten minutes left before the teacher would get there, so he had some time to complete his good deed-of-the-month and set the new kid straight. He approached the dark-haired boy whose nose was practically pressed to the desk as he sketched feverishly. Ah. Un artiste.

"Hey, you," Ichigo began, "I know you're new and everything- but a friend of mine sits in this seat." It was a long shot to call Ishida a "friend," but the new boy didn't need to know that.

"There's a seating chart up by the door- might wanna take a look and see, y'know, where you really belong."

The boy looked up and met Ichigo's eyes- the redhead was taken aback by how familiar the dark blue (unusual eye color in these parts, don't you think…?) gaze was. Perhaps, though, he was simply surprised at the boy's serene loveliness. He had glossy black hair (almost feathery in its burnished sheen), and porcelain-pale skin. His nose was thin and aquiline, the lips were chapped yet perfectly formed and currently twisted into a pompous purse. His eyebrows were sparse and thin, and his cheekbones were aristocratically high. He was hardly even handsome- the only word would be beautiful. It was a little bit scary. Even more unsettling was the fact that the boy appeared to be disproportionately angry at Ichigo's comment. The new kid scratched at the bridge of his nose- as if he were used to wearing glasses- and said in an uncomfortably recognizable, uppity tone:

"Kurosaki, I'd like to take the moment to inform you that you are not, will not, and will never be a particularly amusing young man."

"That wasn't a joke." Ichigo was coming to a prickly realization in the back of his mind.

"Hence why I'm NOT laughing." Uryuu Ishida gave Ichigo one more perturbed glare and turned back to his sketches.

The truth finally struck Ichigo- THIS was Ishida! But-but he looked different! The Shinigami substitute's mind kicked into high gear:

It had to have been during the summer break. He obviously hasn't gotten any sun- so a healthy tan doesn't explain it. Sure, he's maybe grown an inch, but then again, I've grown one and a half. Weight loss seems preposterous; plastic surgery would have left scars….

Ishida Uryuu looks good. Not even in the "oh hey he's wearing a nice shirt today" kind of way, and not the "oh look he's actually smiling and has nice teeth" sort either. No.

He looks damn good. I'm kinda jealous.

"Ishida? I didn't even recognize you without your glasses." Ichigo said, trying to build up a decent save to excuse his former assclownery, all the while maintaining that "enemy" vibe that both of them craved. "You never really seemed like the contact type. Trying to lose the nerd image, Quincy?"

Ishida was visibly perturbed that Ichigo would use the name of his Order so casually but decided not to react upon it. The redhead was becoming steadily more embarrassed, and he was secretly very glad that there weren't many students in the class. Yet.

"I really don't want to deal with you and your machismo attitude this year, Kurosaki." Ishida sighed. "I'm taking the regional tests at the end of this semester and I can't be bothered with your shinigami bullshit."

Ichigo was once again discomfited- he was supposed to take the regional tests as well and as of late, he'd been wondering how he was going to study when Hollows kept popping up like champagne corks. He leaned in closer over Ishida's desk and spoke softer as he heard the rest of the class coming down the hallway.

"Look, I didn't mean to be a jerk. I honestly didn't recognize you and-" he jerked away from Ishida's desk when he heard Keigo's voice through the door and raised his eyebrows apologetically at his pale archenemy. Ishida waved him away with a lazy flick of his wrist and rubbed at his nose again.

"For the record, I get my new glasses at the end of the week. I broke my old pair yesterday at….archery practice" he said pointedly. Ichigo caught the reference. That had to have been a tough fight.

"Ichigo!" The scowling redhead braced himself for Keigo's ineludible attack.

-ze later-

"What happened to Ishida?"

"Who's Ishida?"

"He looks like he got hit with the pretty stick."

"Do you think it was the glasses?"

"It can't have been just glasses. Boy looks FINE."

"I don't believe that's Ishida."

"For the last time, who the HELL is Ishida?"

By lunchtime, the schoolyard was buzzing. Ichigo was already sick to death of watching and hearing the girls gape, the underclassmen giggle, and the straight guys grumble about the so-called miracle of Uryuu. It was unfortunate; Ishida wasn't even noticing the attention he was getting. He puttered around in those cheap-ass hospital shoes, took notes in the same impossibly neat handwriting, customarily went to the bathroom at exactly eleven twenty-three, ignored his peers, and ate lunch alone (despite an increased number of invitations to sit with people).

Not that Ichigo was keeping track of his entire freakin' day or anything. Course not.

Keigo seemed the least pleased out of all the boys in the class and he had very few qualms about expressing his dislike to Ichigo during lunch.

"What's so special about that scarf-knitting pansy? Half the school has gone apeshit because he grew his greasy hair out a few inches and ditched the specs! Look at all those lovely, ripe young ladies," he gestured overdramatically to Orihime and her circle of well-endowed friends as they congregated under a tree with their lunch trays, "staring at him and his stupid no-button shirt. What a queer!"

Ichigo had mostly been tuning Keigo out until that last sentence ; he jumped right back into the conversation with unnecessary vigor.

"Do you really think so?"

"Of course I do! No girl should want to date a guy who weighs less than her!"

"No- do you really think that Ishida's…..batting for the other team?

Keigo gave Ichigo the (incredibly ironic) "you-are-a-complete-and-total-idiot" look.

"When was the last time you met a straight guy who seriously enjoyed knitting?"

Ichigo peered over to another table, where Chad was energetically clacking his knitting needles together in an effort to make a scarf long enough to actually go around his neck. He cleverly decided not to mention the discrepancy to Keigo.

"And what's more," Keigo continued triumphantly (he got louder as he immersed himself further into his argument), "he always wears those fruity shirts with hooks instead of buttons! That's kink if I've ever seen it! MAN kink!"

A few other kids started laughing and sat down at Ichigo's table. Orihime looked up from where she was and frowned. Ichigo was becoming uncomfortable with the situation- if only Keigo knew why he'd been turning down most of the brunette's invitations to come over that past summer. You don't exactly phone up your homophobic "best" friend and tell him you don't want to play Wii Bowling because you're trying to learn how to give a decent blowjob to your increasingly needy, 300-year-old boyfriend.

"He's never had a girlfriend, he never takes that gay-looking bracelet off, and one time I'll swear I saw him walking downtown wearing a CAPE! He's a queer through and through and I don't see why everyone's getting so worked up about him!"

It only took a few more moments for Ishida to "finish" his lunch and leave the schoolyard. His face was the very image of indifferent calm. He did, however, forget to pick up his knitting; it was now little more than a crumpled ball of yarn on the table he'd been sitting at.

Ichigo thought that Keigo was being unfair by spreading unbacked rumors, and the people around their table were already starting to whisper and giggle to themselves.

"Keigo, don't you think that you-" he was going to interject and perhaps defend the Quincy (after all, the cape and bracelet were just parts of the uniform!) when he saw out of the corner of his eye a flash of white and black.

Hollow!

Ichigo excused himself and ran off towards the bathroom with the idea to store his body in a stall when he ran into a hassled-looking Ishida.

"You see it too?" he asked breathlessly. They were in a very secluded hallway.

"I sensed it five minutes ago. I'm going to handle it, why don't you go back to your friends and find somebody else to rip apart?"

Ichigo frowned, he wanted to talk to Ishida- perhaps inform him that he didn't agree with Keigo's habit of jumping to unfair conclusions, but he didn't want to appear soft or sympathetic. It wasn't in his image. Just like volleying between genders wasn't in his image?

"Baka. The Hollow's right outside the schoolyard and if you whip out a bow on school grounds everybody will see."

"What do you suggest then, Kurosaki? I'm supposed to let you handle it? You've don't looke like you've trained at all over the summer!"

Ichigo pushed past Ishida and again headed down towards the bathroom.

"Just let me handle it, Quincy. Hold this."- He popped a soul candy into his mouth and watched his body go limp. He pushed it over towards Uryu and it landed propped up against Ishida's body

"What am I supposed to do with your body, Strawberry?"

"I don't care. Just don't try anything with it, fag." Ichigo said nastily, but he immediately regretted it. A joke that wasn't even funny had already gone too far. "Fag"- it was a practically inexcusable term and the hurt showed on every inch of Ishida's face, if only for a split second. His features almost immediately hardened into a stone-cold glare.

"Just go."

Shit. Ichigo opened his mouth to explain (not apologize) but Ishida cut him off with a harsh gesture. He shifted the weight of Ichigo's body onto his shoulder.

"Go! The Hollow's still out there."

Double shit! Ichigo took Uryuu's advice and sprinted out of the building. As he parried the blows from the crab-hollow's sharp pincers he reflected back on his behavior in the hallway.

He seemed to be genuinely hurt- maybe he really is...? I really wish I could take what I said back- OUCH! The Hollow clipped his ankle and Ichigo angrily finished it off with a well-placed slash from zangetsu. As he shuffled back to the school building the confused teen couldn't seem to get Ishida out of his mind. He had moved on past the name-calling incident and was instead pondering the possibility of a gay Ishida.

Even if he is... he'd still be a great fighter. When we're comrades- he's a good guy to have on my side. He's smart, he's strong, he's…completely hating me right now.

When Ichigo got back to school, he found his body in a utility closet with his hand down his pants and the Quincy cross shaved into both of his sideburns.

"BASTARD!"