The water ran down the sink basin slowly, accented with little pink ribbons that accompanied it down the pipes and into the sewer far below. Urahara looked down at it with an almost shocked expression, a straight-edged razor held loosely in his fingers, foamy white suds clinging to his cheeks. It had been so long since he'd been clean-shaven that he must have forgotten the intricacies of a well-performed trim, having cut himself on the first swing. He should have just invented something to eliminate the hair all together but…he really didn't have the spare hour or so it would take to make that.
"Kisuke-san?" he heard from the doorway, glancing downwards in the mirror to see Ururu peeking around the side of the doorframe, her long bangs hanging precariously between her large eyes. "I heard you make a noise, are you all right? Do you need help?"
Urahara was about to tell her 'no' when he glanced down at the razor in his hands, a small smile lighting up his gray eyes before turning around to face the small girl. Holding out the instrument to her, he moved until he was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his hands gripping the sides (still warm from his earlier soak in the tub) before sighing softly. Perhaps Ururu would have a more steady hand than he did at the moment. He'd been something akin to a basket case ever since he'd woken up that morning, barely able to get down even his morning tea and basically being restless the entire day. The great Urahara Kisuke could easily go into battle without the blink of an eye, but tell him he was about to go on a date and he was a complete wreck. What a mess.
"I would be greatly obliged if you would assist me Ururu," he said, watching her crawl up next to him with a wide grin. She loved being useful like this, able to do things that Jinta could not, and Kisuke was more than happy to indulge her. Anything to keep her from crying and cowering all the time. He let his head fall slightly to the side, baring one side of his face to her as she leaned in with a very serious expression, the straightedge at the ready.
"Please do not move Kisuke-san," she murmured softly, her hand swift and precise, easily cleaning the long stubble away without much fuss. Within moments he was closing his eyes, allowing himself to relax under her motions, the only sounds the pulse of his blood and the strokes of the knife. In all actuality, she was rather good at this, her touch soft and undeniably subtle. It was an ease that he desperately needed when his skin felt like it was going to jump off his body and run away down the street.
The knife left his cheek, only to return a second later on the other side, Ururu just as silent as before. Urahara was startled however when she cleared her throat, the small voice firm in a way that he wasn't accustomed to. What was she up to? Forthright behavior wasn't exactly her strong suit.
"Now…you will be polite tonight, right?" she asked, pausing her hand until he opened his eyes to look at her. Her face was very serious, and he could feel a wide grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Was Ururu…giving him dating advice? "Don't embarrass Ichigo too much…and open doors for him."
"I'm always polite!" Urahara said, a bit flustered, glancing away from Ururu's accusing stare. When had he treated Ichigo with anything less than complete decorum? Okay, okay…there may have been a few times that he probably hadn't treated the younger man the way he might have liked, but Ichigo was so finicky! It was hard to give him what he wanted all the time! If you could even figure out what that was…
"I will do my best to make him exceedingly happy tonight. Anything else?" he chuckled softly. Ururu put her finger to her lips, momentarily deep in thought, but then shook her head and went back to shaving his face. The amused grin that had been upon his lips turned decidedly lecherous, his eyes shimmering with mischief. "I promise not to even try to take advantage of him at the end of the evening."
"Kisuke-san!" Ururu blushed hotly and gave him wide, admonishing eyes. "You shouldn't even be thinking about things like that!"
"I shouldn't," he admitted. "But I'm afraid I am."
"Well, stop."
"Yes, ma'am."
The rest of the shave went on silently, Kisuke eventually finding himself standing in front of his wardrobe wearing nothing but a blank sort of expression and a towel. It wasn't that he didn't have any modern clothes, only that he didn't know what Ichigo would particularly like to see. The teen never seemed to have any problem with his usual attire, but that wasn't exactly appropriate for what Urahara had in mind. Tonight was more of a…special…formal sort of affair. It warranted a special sort of garb.
"I think the black suit would look nice Kisuke-san," Ururu chimed from her place on his futon, nodding towards the formal wear hanging on the far right of the closet. Wordlessly Urahara pulled it out, smiling slightly at the rather expensive clothing. He'd bought the suit on a whim, wondering what he'd look like in it, never really intending to wear it anywhere. Now he was glad he'd gotten it. Ichigo probably wouldn't be expecting anything like this.
"Cover your eyes Ururu," he said with a small chuckle, waiting until the small girl's hands were firmly over her eyes.
The sea-foam green towel fell to the ground in a little puddle as he pulled on the slacks, not bothering with underwear (not that he did that often anyway) before putting on the forest green shirt and taking a deep breath. If he just concentrated on the basics like dressing himself and brushing his teeth than maybe he wouldn't worry about the fact that in about an hour he was going to be going on a date with Ichigo. Maybe his heart would stop jumping all over itself every time he remembered the soft look in the redhead's eyes, the way their lips had met in what had to be the goofiest kiss on the face of the earth. Maybe he'd feel more confident and less like an inexperienced teenager.
Maybe he'd be able to get his tie on without getting his fingers caught in the knot!
Urahara let his arms fall to his side (after dislodging his index finger from the deep silver tie around his neck), before staring at his image in the full-length mirror. Though common sense told him the reflection was himself, it was still like looking at a stranger. Who was he kidding? It wasn't as though he were a young man anymore. It wasn't as though he didn't know perfectly well how completely and utterly wrong it was to be courting Ichigo. But try as he might (and let's be honest, he wasn't trying all that hard) he couldn't seem to help himself. Ichigo could have been sin incarnate and Kisuke still would have pursued him. Wasn't that just the story of his life?
So caught up was he in his own thoughts that he failed to notice Ururu coming up behind him, tugging on the hem of his jacket to pull him down to her level. A wide smile was Kisuke's only response as she began to work on the tie that he'd given up on a moment before, her gaze focused until she backed away and nodded in a satisfied way. He had to admit that she had done a better job of it than he had been attempting to do. Now all that was left was to put on his shoes…and pick up his date…
"You look so handsome," she said happily. "Tonight is going to go great, you'll see."
"Are you sure?" he asked, pausing in the doorway to look back at her over his shoulder. "I'd hate to think I got all dressed up for nothing."
"Positive!" she beamed at him, her eyes glittering with mirth. Her face changed drastically however when she looked down at his feet, her eyebrows coming together in a frown. "Kisuke-san?"
"Yes?"
"You can't wear the sandals with your suit…"
Across town a similar scenario was playing out, the dim lighting of Kurosaki Ichigo's desk lamp sending deep shadows across his hair, making it seem almost a burnt pumpkin color. He too was evaluating his reflection, from the black pinstripe pants clinging to his hips to the snug white shirt hugging his torso. He didn't think he looked too bad (though he had been unable to do anything with his hair), though there was still a niggling sense of nervousness eating at the edge of his calm outer exterior. Would Urahara like the outfit? Was this what he was expecting? Did it matter? Ichigo hated to admit that it did matter…quite a bit actually. He wanted the older man to be absolutely stunned, completely impressed, and his cheeks colored at the implication of what that desire meant. It was disconcerting but exciting to feel this way about another human being.
"Where's my other shoe?" he murmured, glancing under his bed to find the spouse of the boot he had already put on. He' d seen it just the other day, he was sure of it!
"It's under the desk Ichi-nii," Karin said from the doorway, making Ichigo spin abruptly to look at her, nearly bumping his head on the bed frame in the process. She had been the only one he'd told about this date, trusting that she'd keep it a secret from their father as long as she could. It wasn't that Ichigo cared what his dad may have thought, he just didn't feel like dealing with the questions, embarrassment, and inevitable threats that would come with dating a man so much older than himself. The question of legality also briefly reared its head, but he banished the thought since in a few months it would no longer be an issue.
Oh, and let's not forget the tiny matter of Ichigo coming out of the closet…yeah…he hadn't quite figured out how he was going to do that just yet.
"Thanks," he said, sitting down on the desk and lacing up his black leather shoe on the chair in front of him. Once finished he stared at it blankly, trying to calm his nerves enough to think clearly. Ichigo felt as though his skin was clammy, an almost unbearable tightening growing in his chest with each breath. Was this how everyone felt on their first date? He assumed that it probably was, even if this wasn't exactly a normal first date. "Is…Ura…," he paused, blinking at Karin as he tried to force his circling thoughts into words. "Is my date here yet?"
"No, but," Karin began, only to be cut off by the ringing of the doorbell on the lower level. Her face broke out into a wide grin as Ichigo's eyes shot open comically, his tongue coming out to lick at suddenly dry lips. "Well! Looks like that's your date! I'll let him in."
Ichigo froze in place, listening to the sound of her footsteps bounding down the stairs and the squeak of the front door as it swung open. Though distant and quiet, he could hear Kisuke introducing himself to Karin, the blonde's voice setting off fireworks in Ichigo's brain and making it even harder to move his already unwilling body. This had to be some kind of magic. It couldn't just be attraction. Was attraction like this? Swallowing thickly, he eventually managed to force his feet to move down the hallway, stopping at the top of the stairs to muster all his courage. Why was this so hard?
He had been about to take that first daring step downward (when did the staircase get so long?) when a pulse of reiastu from below caught him off guard, making him pause to evaluate it. Kisuke's pressure was jumping up and down rapidly, nervous and warm, fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird in summer air. The feel of it, though surprising, made Ichigo feel instantly better about things. Maybe he wasn't the only one feeling anxious about this little tryst, though he wasn't sure what the older man had to be nervous about. Urahara was the one with the several centuries experience to fall back on, while Ichigo was just starting out of the gate.
"Kurosaki-kun?" Kisuke called from the lower level, Ichigo's heart jumping into his throat as embarrassment coursed through him. "Are you going to stand at the stairs all night? I had hoped you were hungry."
"Yeah, I'm coming," Ichigo answered finally, boots making soft sounds on the stairs as he made his approach. He'd barely reached the bottom when his eyes fell on his companion, feet practically falling over one another in an effort to keep up with his faltering brain. Since when did Urahara look like that? Gone was the unshaven, slightly unkempt man that he usually associated with, to be replaced by someone he couldn't have even imagined existed underneath that loose-fitting haori. Who knew there was a body beneath all those layers?
Was it getting hot in here?
Long ago, when he'd been bored on a rainy afternoon (hey, it happened), Urahara had read a fairytale about a woman who had been so beautiful that men were said to go blind just by looking at her. At the time he'd thought it nonsense, nothing but romantic drivel; now, as he looked at Ichigo, he sort of wondered if this would be the last time he'd ever have working eyes again. Certainly it wasn't fair that one young man should be so breathtakingly radiant. Of course, he'd never call Ichigo that to his face. The young man might not take it entirely as the compliment it was intended to be.
Not to mention Kisuke had never been exactly good at giving compliments to begin with. People tended to think he was being insincere.
"Our reservations are in an hour Kurosaki-kun," he said softly, crossing the distance between them and hesitantly taking Ichigo's hand. The younger man's eyes widened for a moment, then softened, their fingers twining together slowly. Ichigo, Urahara noted as he drew the redhead towards the door, smelled vaguely of citrus, accented with some soft warm spice that made Kisuke lean into him a little. It wasn't the younger man's normal scent, but it was alluring. Then again, Ichigo could have smelled like filth and Urahara still probably would have been at least partially enthralled.
Good gods…the teenager had him thinking all manner of sappy, romantic rubbish! It was like being a teenager himself!
"I think you may have just broken Ichi-nii's brain," Karin laughed from the door, Kisuke glancing at her over his shoulder with a small wink. "Have fun! Don't rape my brother!"
With that the door was closed, leaving the two of them to stand alone in the fading sunlight. "I didn't bring the car," Urahara mentioned, wanting desperately to break the awkwardness that had already descended upon them. To further that effort, he began walking down the sidewalk, Ichigo firmly in tow, glancing at the redhead from the corner of his eye. Ichigo looked so uncomfortable…this wasn't going according to plan at all! "I thought it might be nice to walk."
Urahara's eyes were drawn to the sunset for a moment, wishing he could think of something intelligent to say even as the silence pulled taut between them. Earlier in the day he'd made numerous plans of what to say, what to talk about, anything that Ichigo might find interesting. He'd even gone so far as to practice it all in the mirror, not even stopping when Tessai had walked in on him. (Yeah that had been slightly humiliating.) But now, in Ichigo's actual presence, he found himself woefully dumbstruck. Super-genius indeed.
"You look really good," Ichigo blurted suddenly from beside him, shattering the hush like brittle glass, snapping Kisuke from his thoughts. Had he heard that right? From the telltale blush on the younger man's cheeks and his steady avoidance to join their gazes, there was no mistaking what had been said. Urahara smiled genuinely before tugging on the hand in his own, bumping their hips together mischievously. What to say? Ichigo wasn't looking at him anymore, practically hyperventilating…if he didn't do something quickly the teenager might never recover. Still, there had to be a way to make this uneasiness go away.
Well…nothing like common courtesy to ease the situation.
"Thank-you," he murmured, drawing Ichigo closer to his body, meeting no resistance when their sides met. The closeness, cloth brushing against cloth, set off little reactions in Urahara's skin, making him feel warmer even though he knew the temperature hadn't really increased. "I must admit…I'm feeling a little ill at ease tonight. I haven't gone out on a date in probably fifty years."
"Fifty years?!" Ichigo's face finally turned to look at him, eyes wide and a small grin on his lips. "I didn't know you were so out of practice! I bet you being such a pervert scared off all the potential victims."
"I'll have you know that I only date those I find personally intriguing. No one has piqued my interest…until now."
Ichigo rolled his eyes, squeezing Urahara's hand and blinking stupidly (or at least he imagined it looked stupid) when he received a squeeze in return. Now that the ice had been broken, so to speak, the two of them were talking more easily. Ichigo had worried that they wouldn't actually have much to converse about, but as the older man began telling him about the last "horrendous" date he'd been on back in the 1960's, things began to flow more like a date and less like a funeral procession. Not that Ichigo really knew how a date was supposed to go, he just imagined it was supposed to be pleasant and not make you want to throw up due to nerves.
"…so then we wound up knee deep in sewer water and the whole date had just gone to hell," Urahara finished, the hand that wasn't occupied with Ichigo's flailing about wildly as though that would somehow explain the story better.
Ichigo couldn't help but chuckle, leaning more fully into his companion's body (that smelled of juniper) before truly grasping what he was doing. Much to his own surprise, he didn't pull away when this realization dawned, instead settling into the warm form at his side. They were on a date, right? There was no need for embarrassment (at least that's what Ichigo kept telling himself), right? He'd wanted to do this, had wanted to be with Urahara like this, otherwise what was the point? If he hadn't wanted them to be this close than he would have turned Kisuke down when he'd asked.
Unfortunately, in spite of these thoughts, the fluttering in his stomach refused to ease. Maybe it wasn't a bad thing though. It didn't feel altogether unpleasant.
Urahara looked at him for a moment, eyes glittering with wit and a little bit of pride, before finally giving him a bright smile. Ichigo cocked his head confusedly (what was the pride for?), but took the smile in stride. He often didn't understand what the older man was thinking, and this was no exception. The only difference was that just this once he wasn't all that concerned, as he figured any excuse for Urahara to smile tonight was probably a good one. If the older man started frowning and looking sullen than Ichigo would know that the date had gone sour. For now, however, he was going to try to enjoy whatever merriment the evening offered.
Though Ichigo wasn't all that good at being "merry"…maybe he'd have to practice more.
Conversation stopped at the entrance to the restaurant, Urahara glancing up at it, vaguely surprised. When had they walked so far? From the raised eyebrows his date was giving him, he could only assume Ichigo was thinking the same thing. Then again, it could also have been the fact that they were standing in front of what had to be the most expensive dining establishments in all of Karakura. Kisuke had nearly had a heart attack upon hearing that the average dinner for two cost somewhere between 20-25,000 yen. You'd think they were serving the meals on golden plates for as much as they were charging!
Truly it made his inner businessman cringe a little.
"You can't be serious!" Ichigo said incredulously from beside him, tugging at his sleeve a few times before pointing at the door. "This place costs a fortune…and how the hell did you even get reservations here on such short notice?"
Kisuke paused, tapping his fingers to his lips before answering. "Would you believe blackmail?"
"Yes."
"Well, blackmail it is!" he said cheerfully, pulling Ichigo through the doorway and into the lobby. "Besides, I told you I was taking you somewhere nice." Reaching out, he allowed his finger to run across Ichigo's cheekbone briefly, the redhead blushing deliciously at the contact before looking towards the fish tanks in the corner. So coy. It was delectable. "Don't you think you're worth it?"
"This isn't a L'oreal commercial Kisuke," Ichigo snickered with a soft raise of his eyebrow. Urahara put his hand to his chest as they were lead to their table, sitting down almost heavily and gasping for breath. Had the younger man…made a joke? It was incredible! He'd never known Kurosaki to show such a display of wit. Perhaps he was rubbing off on the younger man. Ow!! A sharp smack to the arm drew him out of his thoughts as the redhead in question scowled at him.
"Asshole," Ichigo growled, though there wasn't much heat to it. Kisuke shrugged lightly. When he was right, he was right.
The redhead excused himself to the bathroom momentarily, leaving Urahara to take in their surroundings. He'd gotten them a private room, quiet and away from the prying eyes of other people. Perfect. Though Urahara didn't honestly care what people thought about his sexuality or choice of partners, he'd wanted to make Ichigo as comfortable about it as possible. Not to mention the privacy was good for more intimate conversation…or other things…things that Kisuke was desperately trying not to think about. Better to keep his mind on chitchat rather than allow it to wander to all the depraved fantasies he'd had about the younger man.
Wait…what had he been doing? Oh yeah…the room…
The room was done in shades of pale green (no he hadn't chosen that intentionally) with a faux bay window on one wall. The "window" as it were had a delicate screen behind it, a scene of some gentle moment in spring with ladies walking in light colored kimonos out in the sunshine. Above the table were soft lights covered in large, off-white paper lanterns that made the room seem awash in morning light. The only other illumination came from the little bulbs that Urahara could only guess were stationed in the walls near the ceiling. All in all a very atmospheric room…very romantic…excellent for what he had in mind.
Nervously, Kisuke dipped his finger into the water glass in front of him and ran it along the dark wood of the table, making strange patterns as he waited for Ichigo to return. What was taking so long? Had the redhead abandoned ship and fled? Had he already decided that this was a bad idea? Maybe he hadn't gone to the bathroom at all! Maybe, right now, Ichigo was actually running down the street back towards his house to hide under his comforter and never speak to him again!
Maybe he should calm down…yeah…that would be good too. He should concentrate on other things. The smell of cooking, the slight dull chattering from the room next door…the shattering of a dozen or so plates as they fell to the floor…
The sound of breaking dishes startled Ichigo, causing him to glance backwards towards the bathroom door (god he hoped that wasn't Urahara causing that ruckus) and the man standing next to it. Turning away quickly before he blushed, he looked back down towards the urinal. There was a man holding towels in the bathroom! What kind of place had a man dry your hands for you? Were rich people that lazy?
Ichigo had never seen anything so ridiculous in his entire life. He'd been shocked when he'd walked in, so silently appalled at the man being there that it had taken the better part of five minutes for him to actually go. In the end, he'd had to resort to thinking of gross things (his dad making out with Ryuuken had finally done the trick) to distract himself. Now, as the bathroom attendant (that's what his little gold name badge said) squirted soap into his hands so that he could wash them, Ichigo couldn't help but feel like a well looked after child. He was almost tempted to wipe his hands dry on the man's pants just to see his reaction, but quickly realized that probably wouldn't be the most mature idea he'd ever had.
"On a date?" the man asked out of the blue, making Ichigo pause in the drying of his hands to glance at him.
"Um…yeah," Ichigo answered in subdued way, not quite sure where to put the dirtied towel. Did he hand it back to the man? Did he toss it on the counter? Why were classy places so full of useless things? In the end he wound up folding it neatly and placing it on the counter, hoping that he hadn't just looked like an idiot. He was pushing the door to the bathroom open when he heard the man speak again from behind. "You should probably act more like you're having fun and less like you're about to get a root canal."
Ichigo glowered at that, walking slowly back to the table where he'd left Kisuke. Did he really look like that? A quick glance in one of the many mirrors on the wall told him he did, in fact, look as though he were sitting in the doctor's office waiting to get a prostate examination. What the hell was the matter with him? Kisuke had been nothing but gentlemanly, nothing but…sweet…and here he was acting as though he were going to the gallows! Enough of this nonsense!
"You look bored already," Ichigo murmured as he sat down across from Urahara, grinning at the surface of the table that was now covered with a long math problem with no ending. Whatever it was, it looked hard…and tedious…and all together complicated. "Did you get impatient waiting for me to come back?"
The older man's eyes rose from the problem, a small grin flashing across his features before he leaned his cheek onto the palm of his hand and spoke. "Well you took so long in the bathroom I was beginning to think you'd left me for dead. But I'm glad to see you've returned unscathed."
Rolling his eyes, Ichigo picked up the menu that had been put on the place mat in front of him and skimmed through it. Honestly, he wasn't sure what half of the dishes actually were, though a few of them he'd read about in Yuzu's "fine cooking" magazines. It was annoying…most of this food had ingredients that he'd never even heard of before! He could feel his eyebrows coming together with his frustration, gnawing at his bottom lip slightly as if it would help. What if he ordered something absolutely disgusting by mistake?!
Wordlessly, he peeked up over the edge of the menu, surprised when he found Urahara grinning at him over the top of his own, gray eyes glittering as though he were about to laugh.
"Kurosaki-kun," Urahara said, his voice quivering with laughter. "I…I don't know what these dishes are…"
Silence…silence…eyes met…simultaneous blinking…more silence…then…
Laughter. Finally…inevitably… Ichigo began to laugh, quiet at first but growing quickly until his eyes were closed, his stomach hurt a little, and he was practically gasping for breath. When his gaze opened, focused once more, he found his date chuckling softly, shaking his head as blonde strands fell over his forehead and his eyes glittered with amusement. Discovering that he felt suddenly bolder (there was a weight that was gone, thank god), Ichigo crooked his finger at Kisuke, beckoning the older man to move his chair from across the table and sit beside him instead.
He was tired of sitting all alone.
Kisuke's eyes brightened the moment he saw Ichigo motion to him, wasting no time in scooting his chair over and sliding in tight next to the redhead. He'd been waiting for such an appetizing invitation! Reservations be damned, he pressed the sides of their bodies together, smiling softly as he took one side of Ichigo's menu in his right hand. There was a tingling now, a line of heat running from shoulder to knee that made Kisuke's mouth go desert dry. How could such a simple contact create such an incredible reaction?! Ichigo shivered next to him, obviously affected, though still adamantly trying to look over the entrees even as their thighs rubbed together. Urahara had to give the young man some credit…he had incredible self-control.
"So…have you decided what you want?" Urahara murmured, turning his face slowly towards Ichigo, finding that his lips were almost able to touch the redhead's temple. He shifted, nose barely tickling against the tips of orange strands, smiling at the scent of almonds coming from the head beside him. It was just like Ichigo to use a shampoo that was neither completely masculine nor all-together feminine. Rather enticing…as if he'd needed any other excuse to desire the redhead. Ichigo's face remained forward however, cheeks colouring slightly as he nibbled on his bottom lip in a tempting sort of way. The reaction made Kisuke grin, pulling away a few inches to get a better look at it. Enough of the worry and anxiety…he wanted to enjoy Ichigo tonight. The rest could take care of itself.
It seemed like an eternity, consumed by the sounds of their breathing and his raging heart hammering loudly in his ears, before Ichigo responded. It was slow at first, the orange head turning at a snails pace; so slow in fact that Kisuke couldn't help but feel that his pulse was grinding to a halt right along with it. Each millimeter, each centimeter, each inch, brought their eyes closer to meeting until finally the entirety of the world crashed down around Urahara's ears, and he was left…breathless. Ichigo, without doubt, had the most gorgeous eyes he'd ever seen.
Every single cliché about love and the strange happenings that seemed to come along with it flew through his mind, mocking him, making him feel vaguely embarrassed at his own lack of originality…but…Ichigo was looking at him like that. Like that!
"I think so," came the younger man's soft murmur, and Kisuke was suddenly given to quoting Shakespeare in his head. O, speak again bright angel! But Ichigo was no longer speaking, his mouth only gently parted, a coral tongue coming out to lick at lips that Urahara couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of. When had they gotten so close anyway? Ichigo's face was a mere breath from his own, a sharp intact would bring them together. When had time sped back up and filled in the gaping hole that it had wrought only a few moments before?
"Ichigo…"
Of course, it was then that cruel irony decided to come into play, the waiter walking in at that precise moment, shattering the fragile spell that had been woven between them. Ichigo instantly pulled back, his face ablaze with embarrassment and shame, looking pointedly away from Urahara. Why couldn't it have been five minutes from now? Three minutes from now? Thirty damn seconds from now?!
There was no point to sitting so close to the redhead now, and Urahara reluctantly pulled his chair back over to his side of the table, sighing softly in defeat. Silently he looked back down at his menu, ordering quietly while listening to Ichigo do the same. He didn't really know what to say, wanting desperately to repair the damage that had just been done to their moods but not really knowing how. He was about to look up, perhaps make a joke about their lack of good fortune, when he felt the table jostle a bit and his hand was firmly enveloped in a much tanner one, their fingers linking together quickly. His eyes shot open wide, jaw dropping as he stared across the table at Ichigo's expression. That beautiful face was somewhere between hopeful and desperate, eyes glittering with determination, his fingers squeezing Kisuke's softly in wordless affection.
And Urahara smiled, because Ichigo was so damn cute when he was really trying hard.
Time tends to move slowly when you're doing something tedious, but when you're really enjoying yourself it always seemed to go so quickly. Or at least Ichigo seemed to think so. One minute they were talking about Urahara's latest invention (something about quantum physics and the time-space continuum…Ichigo did his best to keep up) and the next they were chatting about their favorite rock bands (Urahara apparently liked The Urge…who knew?). It was all going by so fast that before Ichigo knew it the door to their room was being opened and two women were walking in carrying numerous lacquered serving dishes and the air began to smell of jasmine and ginger.
Ichigo was a little surprised when their meals were actually set before them, having thought they would be child-sized at best. Instead he was greeted with what had to be enough to feed four people, glancing around towards each full dish with appreciation…at least they weren't getting ripped off! Urahara seemed pleased as well, chopsticks working furiously at some strange dish of noodles and some kind of meat that Ichigo couldn't really identify but smelled delicious. Grinning widely, he lurched forward, snatching a piece of meat from Kisuke's bowl and quickly shoving it into his mouth even as the blonde moved to cover his meal.
"Kurosaki-kuuuun!" he nearly whined, making Ichigo smile. "If you had wanted this dish you should have ordered it!
Ichigo only smiled, chewing slowly as Kisuke returned to his food. The night had been smooth sailing since their near kiss, smiles becoming the norm as the two of them relaxed. Yep…smooth sailing…except when Ichigo had begun eating his meal rather intently but was interrupted by a socked foot began trailed up his calf. Of course he had instantly choked in surprise, eyes nearly popping from his head at the unexpected contact. However after a few well-placed pats on the back from the amused (and slightly mortified) blonde things had calmed down, though Ichigo had discovered ten minutes later that Urahara had never put his shoe back on. No, he didn't choke the second time…yes, he had reciprocated (blushing the entire time much to his own dismay)…
"I think I'm about ready to go," Urahara said, putting the yen down on the table (though he looked a little green from doing so) and sliding on his shoe with a playful wink. Ichigo's face must have shown some kind of emotion because the blonde smiled at him and shook his head. "We're not going home yet Kurosaki-kun, I just don't want to spend the whole night here…come on…"
"So…what would you like to do now?" Urahara murmured, looking at Ichigo from the corner of his eye. Ichigo only shrugged, not really sure what to say or what to suggest. It wasn't as though he had a lot of practice with these sorts of things, and much to his embarrassment, he had sort of been expecting Kisuke to come up with all the plans for the evening. Licking at his bottom lip slowly, he blew a small blast of hot air from his nose and smiled. It was a warm night, warm enough that he was wondering how Urahara was standing being in a suit jacket.
Maybe he should…did he even have the nerve for that? Surprisingly, he found that he did.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself and ignoring Urahara's confused expression, he quickly slid up behind the blonde and wrapped his hands underneath Kisuke's arms and around his chest. No turning back now! The fabric of the jacket was soft against his fingertips, sliding smoothly as he began to pull rearward, tugging gently to persuade the older man to put his arms back and allow the clothing to be removed. Kisuke, much to his amusement, remained nearly frozen the entire time, though Ichigo could have sworn he felt the older man's heart pounding rabidly as his touch grazed near the center of his chest. This was encouraging. Who knew he could have so much control with just a simple little thing like that!
"You looked hot," he leaned forward, near Urahara's ear, his voice giving away his smirk of achievement. "I think we're past the formal part of the date anyway, don't you?"
"I always look hot Kurosaki-kun," Urahara said softly, grinning as he pulled Ichigo back to his side, looping an arm around the smaller man's waist. "But thank you for the compliment anyway."
Urahara smiled widely at his own joke, trying to cover up the near giddy feeling that had accompanied Ichigo's hands on his body. The redhead was a fast learner, and flirting was apparently no exception. Urahara found that his heart was still beating much too fast for his liking, a hundred dirty thoughts flying through his mind as he glanced at Ichigo's rather impish expression. It was hellish trying not to think of other articles of clothing following suit, but somehow he managed to derail those notions and get back to a more 'first date' sort of mindset. The gods were on his side tonight!
Ichigo, the demon, seemed intent upon making things difficult however, purposely making their thighs rub together with each step, his eyes glittering with a new, playful confidence that hadn't been there before. Apparently Ichigo had finally realized how very very smitten Kisuke was with him, and had decided to use it to his advantage. Devilish youth.
"Hey," Ichigo said suddenly, raising an orange eyebrow with a small grin. "I'm still hungry…you're still paying, right?"
"Demanding aren't we?" Urahara laughed, but bent to the redhead's desires anyway, soon finding himself buying a pair of tickets to one of the trains going out of town. Urahara had only been able to think of one dessert he was really in the mood for, and the best of the best was in a little coastal town a few kilometers away. Anmitsu on a hot summer night with an absolutely gorgeous young man curled up at your side breathing on your neck? Did life get any better? Probably not. Though if Ichigo had started nibbling the spot he was currently breathing on Kisuke wouldn't have complained either.
His fingertips trailed up Ichigo's side and he felt the body beside him shiver, copper eyes opening almost sleepily to gaze at him. They hadn't spoken in a few minutes, content to sit on the tall metal slide that they'd found in a park playground near the beach an hour ago. Unfortunately, Kisuke hadn't managed to convince Ichigo to play on the swings with him, but he had persuaded the redhead to sit on the top of the fort-slide…thing. Now, Urahara's back was propped up against one wooden side with Ichigo tucked into the corner of his arm, cheek pressed softly against his shoulder as Kisuke stretched his legs out far as they would go and crossed his ankles comfortably.
Ichigo looked incredibly feminine right now, though Kisuke would never tell him that. It was endearing, and not something that he particularly wanted the younger man to feel self-conscious about. It didn't matter after all…Ichigo was Ichigo no matter what he did.
"What time is it?" Ichigo voice came out hushed, as though if he spoke any louder he'd ruin the moment that had been created between the heat of their bodies and quiet rush of the ocean lapping in the distance. He didn't seem inclined to move however, eyelids lowering a bit with his small smile. "Seems late."
Urahara moved his watch up into the moonlight, squinting slightly so that he could get a good look at the time. "It's past midnight," he chuckled, gathering Ichigo closer to him and reaching into his jacket that was lying beside them. Groping around a bit, he finally managed to pull out his kiseru, putting it in his mouth and reaching for the matches that he'd thought he'd grabbed before he left. His eyebrows came together when he couldn't find them, biting down on his pipe in annoyance.
Ichigo grinned as he watched Urahara fumble around for what he figured was a lighter, reaching into his own back pocket and pulling out a glittering silver Zippo with the playboy bunny logo on it (Renji had bought it not realizing what it was). With that he sat up a little straighter, flicking open the container and maneuvering the flame towards Kisuke's pipe before snapping it shut and putting it away. "You never know when arson might come in handy," he laughed, giving the blonde wide, innocent eyes when he received a curiously raised eyebrow and a questioning expression. Did he pull off the harmless look?
"Did you want to start heading home soon?" Urahara inquired quietly, though Ichigo could tell from the reluctant tone of his voice that he really didn't want to ask. Instantly Ichigo felt almost guilty for wondering about the time, not having meant to break the atmosphere with talk about ending the night. In a wordless response he moved in closer, closing his eyes and burying his face in Kisuke's shoulder, feeling somewhat embarrassed at his girly display but not really caring all that much. He didn't want to go home. He didn't care how late it got, he wanted to stay right where he was.
"Mmm…I don't either," Urahara concurred, puffing casually on his pipe, Ichigo watching the trails of pale smoke that drifted off into the night. Silence fell between them again, though it wasn't uncomfortable. It was simply the quiet that stretched between two people when each other's presence was enough, a comfort rather than a tension. Ichigo had almost found himself drifting off, the sound of waves far off in the distance a soothing sound, when Urahara took a deep breath that startled him from his drowsiness.
Glancing up at the older man, he was surprised to see green-gray eyes looking intently down at him, a rosy tongue coming out to wet Urahara's lips as he seemed to be steeling himself to say something. Ichigo blinked a few times, sitting up involuntarily in response to the serious change in the tone, biting at his own lip nervously.
"What?" he questioned abruptly, shaking his head sharply. Had he screwed something up somehow? Had he done something? Kisuke looked so…solemn. "What's wrong?"
"What do you want from me?" Kisuke asked, almost a demand, his voice calm and low, gaze steady against Ichigo's own. "I mean…what do you want from this?"
Ichigo found he was unexpectedly taken aback, mouth open in what he imagined had to be an absolutely retarded expression. What did he…want? To be honest he hadn't really given it much thought, hadn't really done much thinking about anything past the thrill of the present moment. It wasn't an unfair question, he realized. In fact, it was rather appropriate considering how long they'd known each and this new turn that their relationship was taking. But…he wasn't really sure.
Ichigo had never been all that good at analyzing his emotions.
But Urahara's stare told him that he would have to find an answer, and that it would have to be given now. He swallowed thickly, looking around him into the night as though somehow the flashing lights of fireflies and the rush of the wind would give him the solutions he was so desperately seeking. Of all the struggles in his life, that had to be amongst the most difficult he'd ever experienced. He'd almost have rather fought a hundred hollows, battled a dozen espada, had the 'birds and the bees' talk with his old man, before doing this.
"I don't…," he began carefully, refusing to look away from Kisuke's steady gaze. "I don't want anything from you." He smiled widely suddenly, a wave of bravery washing over him as he moved to straddle Urahara's thighs, watching the gray eyes widen monumentally. He swayed a bit for a moment until a pair of pale hands reached out to steady his hips, long fingers digging into his pants as he continued. "Well…except your body. And because they're attached, I guess I'll take your mind and soul too."
He laughed, finally having found the right words. "Yeah…I think that's about it. Does it have to be more complicated?"
"No," Kisuke answered without hesitation, his hands moving from Ichigo's hips around his back and pulling him closer. "It doesn't."
Urahara held Ichigo's gaze as he pulled their faces closer together, not allowing the younger man to look away, wanting to be sure of each moment. His question had not been an idle one…he was no spring chicken. True, he wasn't old, and he wasn't going to be dying anytime soon, but that didn't mean that he had time to waste on someone who didn't want him the way he was, or was only interested in nonsense. Ichigo was hardly the type to play those sorts of games, but Urahara wanted to be certain. He'd been stabbed in the back a few too many times in his life, and it had hurt every single time.
But Ichigo's eyes told him it wasn't like that at all…
"Don't worry Ichigo," he murmured, a small grin curling his lips. "I promise I won't miss."
He started with Ichigo's bottom lip, laving it with his tongue's attention, relishing the soft gasps and the unconscious press of the younger man's hips against his own. The soft brown eyes were still barely open as he shifted to the upper lip, wrapping both his lips around the one and nibbling a little. He continued this way, not giving Ichigo the satisfaction of a full kiss, gently teasing him, until he could hear soft sounds vibrating in the back of the younger man's throat. Only when Ichigo's eyes closed entirely did Kisuke seal their mouths together, feeling the smaller frame tremble against his own, the other man's arms reaching up to wrap around his neck and draw them closer.
And yet the redhead wasn't kissing back, Urahara noted with a bit of amusement. Ichigo, for the time being, seemed content to simply receive the gift of Urahara's kiss, only moving marginally every few moments to get more comfortable. Nervousness, perhaps? The notion made Kisuke smile, chuckling a bit.
"Greedy," Kisuke murmured softly against Ichigo's mouth, pulling away fractionally to bite gently at the slightly swollen bottom lip. "Kiss me, Ichigo."
The brown eyes opened gradually, uncertainty shadowing them before they closed again and Ichigo leaned in, Kisuke smiling the entire time at the young man's deliciously flushed cheeks. His smile faded a bit however when those timid lips pressed against his own, his pulse fluttering with blossoming desire. Ichigo moved deliberately, each brush of his smooth lips planned and thought out; so leisurely that Urahara thought me might go mad with wanting the kisses to be deeper. But he didn't want to scare Ichigo off, didn't want to give the younger man any excuse to back down, and so he didn't press him further. Let him go at whatever pace suited him, it all felt good to Kisuke.
"That's right Ichigo," he murmured, whispering encouragements between their lips. In response, Ichigo's actions became bolder, hands moving up into Kisuke's blond hair and tugging firmly on the strands, wringing a small groan from his chest. "Gods, you're such a fast learner," he purred, his words interrupted by around another small moan as Ichigo daringly pried his lips apart, letting their tongues meet for the briefest of instants before retreating back into his own mouth.
Kisuke would have gladly followed it in, but the need for air was becoming oppressive, and to assuage this need they broke apart. Gasps for breath tainted the air as Ichigo licked at his lips in a way that made Urahara's lower stomach spasm in an almost painful fashion. Ichigo's eyes were fluid, alight with yearning, the colors almost seeming to eddy upon themselves though Kisuke knew that had to be his imagination. He was just attempting to cut any overtly sexual thoughts off at the pass when Ichigo leaned forward, letting that pink tongue come out and barely brush over the edge of Kisuke's bottom lip, causing a tremor to work its way through his body. Good lord, what had he gotten himself into?
Ichigo, for his part, was a little confused…mostly at himself. For years he'd been blushing at the mere thought of sex, refusing intimacy, not really wanting to be awakened from the quiet state of slumber that his body seemed to be in. Now, Ichigo's whole body seemed to be waking up, breaths rushing out in aching gusts at the feel of Kisuke's lips working hot at his earlobe and his long fingers kneading at his ass. Everything was becoming very focused, very sharp, and Ichigo couldn't help but wonder why he'd hadn't done this sooner. He felt like a part of him was falling away, shriveling up to die…and it was a part he was glad to be rid of.
Before he knew what had happened he was on his back, blonde locks tickling across his face as their lips met again. Kisuke was making low keening sounds in the back of his throat, each small sound making Ichigo's abdomen clench pleasurably. Wanting to feel more of the man on top of him, he slowly began spreading his legs, arching harshly up into Kisuke's body with a breathless cry when their hips brushed teasingly. Gods, what a heady rush! He had already pulled the blonde's shirt free of his pants, hands moving up to sample the burning flesh of his spine, fingers massaging as they ascended.
So good…why had he denied himself this before? Had he been waiting for this? Did it matter?
As they pulled apart for air once more, the stormy look in the gray eyes above him told him it didn't matter at all. All that was important was that they were here, Kisuke was smiling gently down at him, and his heart was pounding so hard that he could barely hear. Everything else was inconsequential. Casting aside whatever pretenses he might have had left, Ichigo smiled back, reaching up to brush the pad of his thumb along Kisuke's lips. They were a little swollen, a little plum-colored, and it was absolutely erotic.
"Kiss me again Kisuke," he demanded quietly, tugging on the blonde head and bringing their mouths together again. This time the kiss was soft, meant to express long-dormant, repressed feelings, things that had been left unsaid for years, desires pushed down in the face of wars, conflicts, and a hundred wasted opportunities.
Ichigo didn't plan on wasting them anymore.
"Hey!" came a loud voice, making the two of them break apart lightning fast, both their faces as shocked as if they'd been thrown in a lake. "This playground is closed! You can't be here!"
Ichigo could feel the blush rising, mortification waxing while his pleasure dripped away, before he heard Urahara curse above him, strong arms tightening around Ichigo's smaller frame in a possessive way. Sighing softly (and holding back what would have been a pathetic whimper), Ichigo leaned his forehead against the older man's shoulder and clung to him, waiting for what appeared to be a police officer to get close enough to them to really see what was going on. They were doomed. Or at least he thought they were doomed, until he felt himself lifted up and shunpoed away, blinking in shock at how fast the blonde could actually move. Before he'd even had time to catch his breath they were standing at the train station, Kisuke putting his suit jacket back on and grinning at Ichigo widely.
"I think that was a sign from the gods Ichigo," Urahara laughed, glancing around the empty train car that they had boarded before pulling their bodies together. Ichigo shivered when lips brushed his ear and bit at the lobe before his mouth fell open at Kisuke's whispered words. "I don't want your virtue tonight. It was enough to have you gasping underneath me."
The rest of the train ride home was taken in silence, Kisuke pulling Ichigo into his lap and simply allowing his hands to run over the redhead's body. His fingers memorized each curve, each angle, the bend of his elbow, the long plane of his neck, the proud sweep of his jaw line. And at the same time Ichigo did the same, though much more tentatively, his face a mask of curiosity as he explored Kisuke's frame. All in all it made the ride home much too quick, and before they could even really get comfortable they were walking only blocks from Ichigo's house. Such a pity.
"I don't really want the night to be over," Ichigo confessed quietly, looking away with an embarrassed expression. "Gods, I sound like a girl."
Urahara laughed, pausing when he realized they'd reached Ichigo's front door. "Ah Kurosaki-kun, the modern conventions of what is feminine and masculine is all such nonsense anyway. You're yourself…I like you this way."
"Yeah?" Ichigo questioned dubiously, glancing up at Kisuke with his fingers around the door handle. His face was suddenly very young, and Urahara couldn't help but feel a vague sense of awe at how many long years existed between them…and yet he didn't really care. Ichigo was his. Years no longer mattered. "Really?"
"Obviously," Urahara murmured, tenderly taking Ichigo's hands and wrapping them around his neck, feeling a strange bit of nervousness flutter up into his stomach. The notion of apprehension boggled his mind. They'd already made out, touched each other for hours, but the good night kiss was making him nervous? It seemed preposterous! Only the whirlwind that was Kurosaki Ichigo could inspire such a tempest of contradictions. "Good night, Ichigo."
Their lips met, neither one forcing the contact to be anything more than what it was, allowing the kiss to be purely affectionate without being sexual. It wasn't even a very long kiss, just long enough for Kisuke to get a taste of the younger man before they pulled away. Embarrassment rustled through his mind, knowing how he must have looked with such a silly grin plastered on his face. Ah well…couldn't be avoided. Silently, Ichigo opened the door with a quiet swish and moved to go inside, but not before looking over his shoulder to give Kisuke an absolutely dazzling smile. Dumbstruck? He hadn't known that Ichigo could smile like that. Or maybe he'd just never noticed before…
"Night Kisuke," he said happily, still smiling. "See you tomorrow?"
"Of course," Urahara responded with a wink, shaking off the stunned feeling and turning to walk back towards his shop, trying to recall a strange melody that had been plaguing him all night. It reminded him of Ichigo; it was sultry and saucy and everything that he liked most about the redhead in question. He'd remember it before long…as soon as his mind cleared a little more.
Inside the calm of the clinic, Ichigo stole one last look at the blonde hair that was now turning the corner and going out of sight, chiding himself for being so hopelessly romantic. Who knew? He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this pleasantly out of sorts, a warmth settling in his stomach that he couldn't help but want to repeat. Finding himself emotionally and physically exhausted, he smiled one last time and turned towards the stairs, more than ready for a good night's sleep. Maybe the night's events would replay themselves there…
He'd only made it up three steps, trying desperately to stifle a loud yawn, when a voice from the hallway stopped him dead in his tracks. Instantly a wicked blush rose up on his cheeks, his eyes closing as if somehow that would make the all-too-familiar voice go away.
"You know, I've been friends with Urahara for years…if I'd know you wanted to date him I could have set that up."
He was doomed…