Bleach – Unimaginatively Yours
a.k.a Cupid shot me with his arrow so I ripped his wings off.
By Fatima Natasha
02-12-2010
Friday
Rating: T (For language only - My justification is, if Toushiro's old enough to have Matsumoto then he's old enough to talk like an adult :P Don't flame me!)
Author's Note: Written especially for the "Valentine's Day Contest" on hitsumatsu at LiveJournal. If anyone wants to go to the community visit "community(dot)livejournal(dot)com/hitsumatsu" and the address is all wonky with (dot)s :P because FFnet doesn't let anyone post any links, hopefully this should be clear. Go figure. But go and show support for your favorite couple if you can :)

*

It seems the moment I hit puberty there was a sign that blinked on across my ass and forehead that said 'available'.

I'm not an idiot. In fact, I'm smarter than your average deadman. It is irrelevant that I died when I was four feet tall because the three hundred years I've lived as a soul reaper has taught me, nothing remains constant.

Except for the damned sign on my ass and forehead.

It took every ounce of my infinite patience not to snarl at the sniveling little girl gazing up at me with big doe like eyes that pulsated with little red hearts. Okay that was a bit much. Proverbial hearts then. The nauseating doe eyes are a fact.

"Yes," I offered her an awkward smile that probably bordered on a cringe. "This is…er…" Grotesque. Disgusting. Vile and sadistic. "Lovely," I provided despite my inner voice's supply of colorful adjectives.

Does she even SEE my twitching eyebrow? You'd think a Captain of my caliber and excessive short fuse when it came to such situations would deter them.

But no. Happy fucking Valentine 's Day Captain Hitsugaya.

It's the one day in the year when everyone gets a free pass to harass and abuse each other freely; nobody gives a damn that Toushiro Hitsugaya is at the edge of his patience.

The creature before me let out another stream of ridiculously squeaky giggles while I tried my utmost not to choke the stuffed naked boy in my hands. The only consolation is that once she has made her confession of undying, unimaginative, truly, madly, deeply rooted insanity, I will sit behind my desk and carefully rip out the two annoyingly feathery wings that probably came off the back of some poor pathetic chicken, shred the blindingly crimson heart into tiny nondescript pieces and BURN THE SEMISEXLESS STUFFED BABY!!!!

"Captain Hitsugaya?"

Blinking out of my merry visions of the imaginary funeral pyre I met the expectant girl's face with as much civility as I could muster. "Yes. Thank you Anya. I…urrr…will…." BURN! BURN! BURN!

Easy boy, my inner voice reminded me and with a great big breath of infinite restraint, I finished with, "cherish this forever."

Then I slammed the door in her face and marched back into my office, muttering curses under my breath.

I decided long ago: Valentine 's Day could bite me!

"Trouble Captain?"

The ghastly stuffed love token landed into a growing pile of trash that was painted in sickening shades of red, pink and white. With a protesting 'honk' it bounced off the head of a headless teddy bear before tumbling pitifully into oblivion.

"Board the damned door shut!"

My Lieutenant propped her chin into her hand, her usually twinkling blue eyes doused with pity. "Awww Captain. You can't really blame them, ya know."

"BAH!" Stomping like the Valentine Scrooge that I was, I hunched down behind the pile of paperwork on my desk and hoped I could disappear for the rest of the day. I'd rather face off a forest full of Menos all by myself with a sword through my gut than deal with another valentine.

There was a snicker from my Lieutenant's table which was instantly squelched by her hand when my frosty gaze snapped up to her in silent warning. Smothering the leftovers of a smile off her face, Rangiku Matsumoto rose from her perch behind her desk and sauntered towards me with an almost straight face. She knew. The slightest provocation could set me off. The last time I'd snapped, it had taken them a month to thaw out the Squad 10 buildings.

"Honestly Captain," leaning one hand on my desk, Rangiku Matsumoto, the most flirtatious woman in the seireitei offered me complete seriousness for once. "Have you seen you lately?"

The cold glare turned homicidal. "No Matsumoto. I have a death wish and shave with my eyes closed."

Lifting up a deceptively dainty hand, Rangiku offered a silent surrender. "Okay, no need to be snippy. I'm only trying to make you understand."

The twitching eyebrow turned into a seizure.

With a defeated sigh, the woman threw up her hands. "Oh fine. But if the next one brings those little tiny hearts in multicolored frosting, don't throw them into the fireplace. I happen to like chocolate."

With herculean effort I managed to keep my eyebrow from disfiguring my face permanently and took a deep calming breath. "Matsumoto, you are welcome to each and every vile item in my 'TO BURN' list if it pleases you, just please!" My voice rose to a fever pitch. "Tell the NEXT one I have DROWNED in the great big pile of pinkness and CANNOT come to the DOOR!"

Wincing at my rather loud and rather desperate request, she plucked the glass of water sitting on my desk and held it out me. "Geez Captain. Breathe before you bust a vein."

Panting like I'd defeated a hoard of Arancars I sprawled helplessly in my chair, my hand running tiredly over my face. "Why must I be subjected to this every year?"

"But it's Valentine's Day!" She sang back.

Lifting deadpan eyes to my bright, smiling captain, I wondered if it was too late to replace her. "It's a tawdry excuse offered by greedy corporations out to fleece and manipulate poor unsuspecting folk in an attempt to make the committed ones guilty into reaffirming their commitment and alienate the single ones into the depths of depression so that they all buy into this deceitful, sadistic, COMMERCIALIZED FARCE!"

Her pretty smile wilting, the woman frowned down at me with disappointment. "Honestly Captain Hitsugaya, just because it didn't work out with you and your childhood sweetheart, doesn't mean all the happy couples in the world are doomed to hell."

Growling under my breath, incensed for having been dragged into this ceaseless argument with my lieutenant once more, I snapped out of my chair like a released rubber band and began to pace. "Spare me the melodramatic mumbo-jumbo Matsumoto. You know it's damned pretentious of those mongrels to dictate the day when you should declare your love for someone. It's ridiculous lies like 'soul mates' and 'forever' that prompt those hapless women into chasing me like a pack of starving dogs every year. It's the one day in the whole year, the ONE day, when no one remembers I'm a genius captain and all they see is my ass!"

Muffling her sputter of laughter behind her hand, the titan haired woman watched me wear a path into our office floor. "Oh heaven forbid someone should objectify my dear little captain."

Feet smoking to a halt, I scowled at her well placed jab. "Oh bite me."

Matsumoto crossed her arms across that gorgeous chest (hey, I'd have to be a eunuch not to notice them) and leaned against my desk languidly. "You're looking at the woman with a patent of being objectified remember? If you're having to put up with it once a year, all I can tell you captain," her blue eyes twinkled with blunt mirth and I braced myself, "is suck it up."

"Thank you for your unending support Lieutenant Matsumoto. I think now, I will go and kill myself."

Laughing heartily, the woman reached out and caught the sleeve of my captain's robe as I turned to resume my pacing.

Of all the times my lieutenant has ever attempted to bodily manhandle me, and that includes her smothering hugs, I've begun to realize that I have stopped protesting as much. And no. It has nothing to do with how warm and curvy she's become and everything to do with growing up and realizing everyone wasn't staring at her hugging me because they thought I was a wussy little boy, but because they thought I was the luckiest bastard they'd ever seen.

Safe to say, my age and added inches have given me the right tools to handle the Rangiku Matsumoto's infamous, breast smothering hugs.

Catching her firmly around her waist, I let my flighty lieutenant wrap herself around me. I realized it was safer to just accept her flying tackles. "MMPH!" Snorting into the strawberry blond curls that now surrounded my vision, I let her squeeze my ribs until I was lightheaded. The only consolation is that her lovely breasts now provide a cushion rather than a hazard.

Nearly on tip toes, Rangiku had effectively removed all space between us when she threw her arms around my shoulders so I felt more than heard her chuckle. "Come on Captain, admit it; gifts are meant to make people happy."

"Yes Matsumoto," I muttered dryly, "nothing says 'you're special' than a mass-produced sentiment written by someone else."

"Ah, but the right gift from the right person," her singsong voice trilled against my collar coaxingly and something inside my chest seemed to snap into place with a sickening little realization.

Holy mother of all that was decent.

She probably felt the sudden ice in my veins when I went stiff in her arms.

Rangiku drew away from me with a concerned frown, her luminescent blue eyes raking over me. "What's wrong Captain?"

Cursing her need to comfort me and lamenting my ignorance, I stared down at her like a blithering idiot. To think I'd always assumed age made us wiser. But then I am Toushiro Hitsugaya. There's only so much stupidity I can take. Even my own.

"Why the hell haven't you ever given me a valentine Matsumoto?"

The usually unflappable woman skidded off her flirtatious little pedestal.

Ice blue eyes widened in abject shock, her lips forming the most enticing little 'O'. Mental note: Surprise Matsumoto more often. It was hot as hell.

There are at least ten things you never do with a lieutenant in my world even if you're hung upside down over a vat of boiling acid.

Kissing them is about eight of them.

I liked to think of myself as a man's man. Maker of my own destiny. An adult.

Right: Sometimes I wonder if I should just stop trying to be so goddamn smart.

Before either of us could speak; I had kissed her. Lips met. It's that simple. A moment of weakness on my part. A stupid little slip after years of abstinence. No. The Valentine bug hadn't bit Captain Toushiro Hitsugaya, boy-genius.

Then I noticed something. She wasn't pulling away to sue me for harassment in the workplace. I wasn't drawing back to glare at her for being so damned tempting. It was surprisingly and deliciously mutual…and it was one hell of a kiss.

It was not a soft little peck. Not a deft little brush of skin against skin, not a little tease or a smidge or a whisper or a hint of a kiss either. No. Nice tonsils, Matsumoto. Very nice. It started out slow and easy, got a little warmer, became very hot, then wet and finally deep enough to make me forget my name, where I was, what I had been doing or if the pudgy semisexless baby that was inflicted on humanity for the sins of commercialism had finally shot me with the proverbial arrow in the ass.

Safe to say when the next love encrusted, doe eyed caller came to the door she found Rangiku Matsumoto firmly sandwiched between me and the nearest flat surface we could find.

And the 'available' sign across my ass and forehead finally blinked off.

Happy fucking, Valentine's day indeed.

THE END