-Author's Note-

Hey, it's Sel here. I totally and wholeheartedly apologize for the awful, disgustingly long break between the first and second chapter. The good news is that by now I've pretty much hammered out the whole storyline (it was kind of a jumbled mess earlier) so everything from here should flow relatively easily.

I solemnly swear that this is the longest you'll ever have to wait for a chapter in this fic!

Thank you to everyone that reviewed! I felt so loved! Please feel free to keep me in check if I get too OOC or if you have any critique! As I said before, this is my first fic so any help you pros can give is greatly appreciated

-saltoftheearth-

So Let's Put Wallpaper Up Between Our Ears

Chapter Two: "What's With the Third Degree?"

"Lie detector's on the blink
So comfort me with doublethink
And let's put wallpaper up between our ears"
-"Motorology" by Ozma.

Only four weeks remained until the regional exams and Ichigo was about to crack. He had the exam study booklets to go through, massive amounts of homework, extra shifts at the clinic, an increasing number of Hollows to fight and the minor (read: unbearable) annoyance of pretending that he was even a tiny bit interested in women. Keigo insisted on dragging Ichigo to the mall to "girl-watch" and begged for his opinion on all life forms that appeared to be even remotely feminine. On excursions such as these, Ichigo counted the minutes until he could go home.

Of course, that's not to say that his home life was any better. His fool of a father still insisted that the only common language in the house should be violence and Ichigo often had to duck, block and swerve away from Isshin's bone-crunching excuses for hugs.

"Aha! I have trained you well, my son!"

On a nondescript Monday, just a few weeks after school had started, Ichigo woke up and deduced that it was safe to go to school without having to don a beanie. Yes, his gingery sideburns had finally recovered from the Quincyfication of weeks past! "Today," Ichigo later remembered promising to himself, "is NOT going to suck." Or so he'd hoped.

School had not been too much fun lately. It wasn't an academic problem. His grades were fine even with the constant hollow-flavored distractions that had been swarming all over the town as of late. No, his main issue with high school at the moment was collectively tall, pale, handsome, dark-haired, and pompous. Ishida hadn't spoken much to Ichigo (or to anybody, really) since the beginning of the school year and instead of hindering his social status, Ishida's forced silence only propelled him further into the upper echelons of the high school hierarchy. Ishida Uryu was an enigma. Enigmas were cool. Enigmas were sexy. And what's more- it had become a widely accepted fact that Ishida was gay. Everybody knew, everybody was talking about it, and Ichigo still didn't know what to think.

A large part of Ichigo didn't look at the strong, smart Quincy any differently, but a very miniscule portion of his mind harped on about Ishida's homosexuality on an almost hourly basis. One thing, however, was particularly certain: Ichigo was NOT about to let other people know about about the tested-and-true fact that he too was gay. It was one thing for the president of the handicrafts club be a fairy- but Ichigo knew that nobody, not even Chad, could know about Renji or his sexuality. Such was the constant thorn in Ichigo's side.

Ichigo had slipped out of the house early to avoid any further confrontation with his dad and took the long way to school that morning. He was tired- after fighting two hollows last night and studying for a test he had today, the hot-tempered teenager felt less than enthusiastic about going to school that day. More than anything, he wanted to sleep and regain his strength. Unfortunately, his human duties called him away.
------------------------------------------------------------------------

The streets were empty- a few stores were opening up their doors to the earliest of commuters but besides that there was little activity in Karakura Town. The redhead's long legs took him though the shopping district all the way past Urahara Shouten, and it was at the gate of the lecherous Hat n' Clogs' store that he stopped. A buzz at the badge he kept attached to his belt confirmed the rising sense of unease that had permeated Ichigo's brain- there was a Hollow somewhere near. How very repetitive.
Ichigo had the good sense to slip into Urahara's courtyard and discreetly ditch his body behind a dumpster before summarily seeking the Hollow out. Two blocks down and Ichigo saw it; the towering menace was poking a skeletal finger through someone's bedroom window.

"Hey ugly, over here!" he called out, hoping to lure it away from the house. The (evidently dumb) Hollow took the bait and charged angrily towards the lean shinigami substitute. Ichigo summoned the last of his strength and feigned readiness. He drew Zangetsu and stood in his starting position, too tired to be entirely ready to spring into action at any given mome-

"And who, exactly, are you calling ugly, Kurosaki?"

A very familiar voice with an unbearably dramatic tone sounded from behind the Hollow. The black and white beast stopped in its tracks and turned around to see where that voice was coming from; moments later a musical twang cut through the silent air and the Hollow fell to the ground. It dissolved shortly.

Ichigo visibly wilted. This was really not his day. He wanted to fucking KILL that Quincy- he didn't have the time to sit around and play ring-around-the-hollow. As the yellow-eyed beast dematerialized, Ichigo caught sight of his lanky rival standing coolly behind it, looking annoyingly perfect and delicate in the cold light of morning. His glossy raven hair blew slightly to the side in the open wind and the Quincy boy's birdlike, slender figure struck an extremely unwelcome chord of admiration in Ichigo's sword-scarred chest. The sixteen year old was gorgeous; entirely different in his appeal then Renji had been, but gorgeous nonetheless.

With a graceful flick of his wrist, Ishida's bright silver bow disappeared back into the charm on his bracelet. After checking to make sure his clothes were not dirtied or wrinkled, the beautiful brunette approached Ichigo in what he probably imagined was a cocky fashion. However, something seemed off. Ishida's steps were unstable and wavering, as if the boy could hardly even stand up.

"Oh, were you planning to attack that? My bad." The Quincy tried to smile and ended up looking instead as if the corners of his lips were merely twitching and jerking themselves into a surprisingly attractive arch. Ichigo wasted no time in giving Ishida the finger.

"I'm not here to dick around with you, Ishida." He said, sounding rather irritated.

"Trust me, I'm not either. I've been stalking that Hollow all morning. You just happened to waltz in when I was making my move. I had it under control." Ishida said. He then politely covered his mouth and yawned into his palm.

"I don't have the time to waste getting out of my body if I'm not going to fight. I- hold on a second." He slipped behind the dumpster and reunited his soul with his body. Ichigo stepped back out into the open, once again dressed in his school uniform and dusted off the seat of his khaki pants. The redhead was extremely frustrated, and the gravity of his emotion negatively manifested itself in his usually confident voice.

"I really, REALLY just don't have the time. Or the energy. Or the…." Ichigo didn't like how defeated he sounded. He looked up at Ishida, who was leaning against a fence a few yards away. The boy's eyes were trained on Ichigo's face, as if trying to decipher something hidden in the boy's heavy brow. Ichigo was never an observant person and it had taken him until now to realize that Ishida didn't look so chipper either. His pale skin had adopted a sickly pallor and dark bags sagged under his pretty blue eyes. Uryuu obviously hadn't been sleeping much either, but the truly unfair part was that all the damage of sleeplessness suited him. Despite his mechanically groomed appearance, Ishida looked to Ichigo as if he had spent the night staying up…

….doing something sophisticated and romantic like reading Keats and sharing a pot of chocolate fondue with a grey-eyed, mature lover. There would be candles, yes, vanilla scented candles and Ishida would run his slender fingers tantalizingly through their flames. The two would gaze hungrily at each other as the night progressed until their lust would become unbearable and the mysterious older man would sweep Ishida off into the bedroom, where they'd make passionate love until long past the break of-

"-you know what? Whatever. Fuck you. Stay away from my Hollows" Ichigo jerked himself away from his overactive imagination and brushed past Uryuu with every intention to continue on the way to school. That WAS the plan, until Ishida spoke up again.

"You're stressed, Kurosaki. I can tell." Ichigo turned around and saw that Ishida was still scrutinizing him. He felt naked, exposed under his classmate's cold stare. Ishida launched himself off the fence and approached Ichigo again.

"We're going to the same place. Walk with me."

Ichigo snorted. "I thought I asked you to leave me alone." He stormed off angrily. A block later, he realized that Ishida was right- they were going to the same place. Walking together was somewhat inevitable. He looked to his left and realized that Ishida was keeping pace with him. The boy was staring at his feet and very obviously trying not to laugh.

"If you want" the brunette said between stifled chuckles, "You can just use your imagination and pretend I'm invisible."

"Shut up." Ichigo grumbled.

"So hostile." The laughter was gone from the Quincy's voice. He spoke once again in an characteristically calm, smooth timbre. It was a nice change from his everyday theatrics. "Look, I actually have been meaning to talk to you for a few weeks now. I think that we have more in common than you think."

Inside, Ichigo froze. Ishida could NOT have figured him out that quickly. He'd been squashing down every single mildly homosexual habit he'd gotten into over the summer- was Ishida's gaydar really that good?

"I really doubt that, but continue."

Ishida gave Ichigo a meaningful look. "Are you taking the regional exams?"

One word answers were the best. "Yes."

"Are you studying every night for them?"

"Yes."

"And you're taking the advanced classes for our year?"

"Yes."

"…Hollows giving you more trouble than usual?"

"No." Ichigo didn't want to admit that his shinigami duties were finally taking their toll on him, physically and mentally. He was exhausted but then, so was Ishida.

"Did you hang out with anyone from Soul Society over the summer?"

Ichigo's heart nearly skipped a beat. Ishida could NOT know about Renji…but the Quincy could be testing him. Better to bend the truth.

"Not really."

"Oh? Because I spoke to Urahara-san and-

Shit. "-Oh, well. I almost forgot. Remember Renji? Tall, red hair, lots of tattoos? He and I…"

Discovered their homosexuality? Were boyfriends? Spent night after night cloistered in the safety of Ichigo's bedroom, educating each other on the finer details of the Freudian pleasure principle?

"…played poker on weekends." Lame.

Ishida raised his eyebrows for an undetectable moment. "Fun. That's all I needed to know."

They walked in silence for the next two blocks. Ichigo's mind was going into overdrive.

Why would he want to know all of that? Why does he care? He should know how the Hollows are because he's been fighting them too! He looks as tired as I am. He knows how I feel right now. Why does he need to ask? What's his deal with Renji? Why did-

The sprawling edifice of their high school appeared before them before Ichigo could complete his thought process. A few of the carpool students were milling around on the blacktop. Ichigo made as if to go through the gate but Ishida grabbed his arm abruptly.

"What now?" the redhead asked, obviously annoyed

Ishida looked Ichigo in the eyes and stared him down once more. His expression was different this time, it was pained. It almost looked at if Ishida was trying desperately to read Ichigo's mind. Ichigo was disturbed by the intensity of Ishida's glare. After all of those prying questions, he felt unnaturally bare and really didn't want to deal with Ishida's inky blue eyes boring holes in his already sensitive flesh.

"What do you want?" he repeated, wanting nothing more than to get away from the Quincy. The boy continued to stare and Ichigo felt himself become incredibly aware of the pressure Ishida was putting on Ichigo's bicep. He felt himself flexing and reveling in the meaty resistance his arm was met with. Ishida felt Ichigo's arm tense under his grip and let go of the shinigami immediately.

"For the last fucking time, what is it?" Ichigo was angry now…a part of him didn't want the boy to let go. He wanted to feel that hand around his arm again and maybe Ichigo could roll up his sleeve to feel Ishida's cold palms against his skin. The soft, orange hairs that peppered the back of Ichigo's neck stood up at the thought of this. Ishida was the president of the handicraft club. He'd be very, very good with his hands. Cool, smooth hands sliding around Ichigo's waist and drawing their two bodies closer together…

Ichigo recognized the beginnings of a twisted and disastrous fantasy and forcefully snapped himself out of it. He tensed again and Ishida noticed the change in body language. He spoke it.

"Actually, it's nothing." He was copping out of answering Ichigo's repetitive inquiries. "I didn't mean anything by it. I should go." The dark-haired boy turned and left Ichigo outside the gate. As he walked away Ichigo could have sworn he heard him mumble:

"I really fucking hate Soul Reapers."

Or something like that.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

First period. Second period. Third, Fourth, Fifth, Lunch.

Ishida didn't come back into the classroom after lunch, and Ichigo was worried. The boy's odd behavior that morning had greatly unsettled him. Something, anything had to be done. Ishida's questions kept running through Ichigo's head. The question about Renji pestered him the most. Ichigo tried a thousand different explanation as to how they could morph together to form a conclusion in the brilliant mind of the Quincy, but nothing came to mind.

"Kurosaki Ichigo?"

Ichigo looked up at his teacher blankly. There was no one else in the classroom. School was over. And he was pretty sure that he'd fallen asleep.

"Kurosaki-kun, it's time to leave. Get in the habit of actually sleeping. You'll need it for the regional exams ne-."

Ichigo felt as if his teacher were speaking to him through a water tank. He hardly registered anything she said as he stood up weakly and packed his schoolbag.

Ishida. I have to talk to Ishida. He might be onto me"

"-live. Near the west side of town. I was wondering if maybe you could-"

Of all people…he might know about Renji. He might know about me.

"For Ishida Uryuu-kun!"

"What?" His teacher had just mentioned Ishida!

"His homework for the last two periods- could you bring it to him? He went home sick and I know you two live close together. Here."

His teacher dropped a manila envelope on Ichigo's desk and smiled down at the dizzy redhead. "His apartment number is printed on the side. Just get it to him sometime tonight."

A perfectly good reason to ambush- er…talk to Ishida at home. Awesome. Perfect. Spectacular. Terrifying.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Half an hour later, Ichigo stood at the front door of flat number 12B in Ishida's apartment block. He knew from school gossip that the Quincy lived alone and that he wasn't well off, but the building he lived in was nicer than Ichigo expected. He supposed that Ishida's elusive father had something to do with that. Ishida might hate him, but his father still had some sort of an obligation to care for his unusually independent son.

Ichigo pressed the buzzer once, then twice. He paused and heard Ishida talking to somebody inside- a male somebody.

Oh no. He'd walked in on a chocolate fondue and existentialist poetry lovemaking session! He was about to meet Ishida's fictitious lover! Mayday! Abort Mission! Mayday!

Ishida was still talking to whoever it was with him in the apartment when he went to answer the buzzer. His voice got louder and louder as he got closer the door, but Ichigo still could not quite make out what he was saying. Ichigo was frozen to the spot- the other voice inside sounded intimately familiar. That tip-of-your-tongue feeling discomfited Ichigo greatly.

Ishida was seconds away from opening the door…the dead bolt slid open, a chain lock jangled apart. The knob jiggled and the door squeaked as the thin Quincy opened it just a crack.

"Ichigo?"

"Hi." Ichigo held out the envelope to Ishida and tried not to notice any annoyingly obsessive-compulsive details about this encounter. Like the fact that the Quincy was changed out of his still school uniform and into a fasten-up shirt and jeans. Or that his black hair was damp and his bangs were sexily plastered to his forehead. Or that the Quincy was wearing his glasses again and Ichigo couldn't see his divine midnight eyes quite as easily as he could earlier that day.

"Here's your homework. BYE!" Ichigo practically threw the envelope at Ishida and was prepared to sprint down the hallway. Unfortunately, his legs weren't really working all that well. There was a long, awkward silence broken only by the rustling of papers as Ishida opened the envelope (was he checking for a bomb?).

"Ichigo, it's really weird that you're here."

"I know. Don't remind me."

Ishida laughed. "No, I mean that it's weird because we were just talking about you." He opened the door wide and gave Ichigo a full view of the apartment's foyer and his kitchen table.

Ichigo's jaw dropped.

Kneeling demurely on Ishida's Quincy-decorated tatami mats was a tall, stocky young man with crimson red hair, carefully patterned eyebrows, and a characteristically wolfish smile.

"R-Renji?"