Show me love, show me love, show me love,
Show me love, show me love
'Til you open the door
Ikkaku couldn't remember the last time he'd been on a date.
Okay, well he could, but it hadn't really counted as a date, alright? Going out with your girlfriend with a ton of other dudes to a sports bar for dinner with no privacy didn't really count as a date. He'd never kissed her on that date, so it didn't count. He hadn't needed to impress her because the two of them had been good friends and had known each other for a few years and he hadn't had to stress out about getting ready or about thinking of what to say.
But he was stressing out now.
He was determined to be prepared and not to slip up, although he was sure that Yumichika would always be able to immediately find fault with anything or anyone he laid his eyes on, no matter how perfect. That wasn't the point. He'd accepted the fact that Yumichika would pick at his flaws. The point was that Ikkaku didn't want anything important to go wrong, and he'd spent a ton of time getting ready to at least control the damages.
Even though he always got a pretty good work-out at his job, Ikkaku had gone to the gym every night this week. Not just because he was trying to get in shape, either, but because it helped keep his mind off things and made him feel really good the next day without fail. Going to bed sore and exhausted kept him from lying awake and thinking about all the ways he might fuck up. It had gotten harder and harder as the week had gone by, and now that it was Saturday morning, he was really cracking down.
He'd shaved really good and his jaw was perfectly smooth. No nicks, fuck yes. He'd found his breath-spray, he'd bought condoms, he'd picked out some clothes that weren't too casual or too dressy, and he'd spent a long time on his hands. Clean hands. He had to have clean hands when he touched Yumichika this time. His normally jagged nails were filed down and had no dirt underneath, he'd ground away the calluses he'd gained from his job, and his cuticles looked perfect.
Sighing as he stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror and flossed, Ikkaku let the shower warm up. Maybe he was stressing out too hard, but he wanted to look nice. Yumichika always looked so perfect without seeming like he hardly tried, and Ikkaku wanted to make him dizzy with affection too.
I mean, Ikkaku didn't really see why, but there had to be something about him that Yumichika found attractive. If he fixed up everything, he was bound to catch what it was without needing to figure out exactly what. Or you know, Yumichika might be with him for his personality. Hah!
He'd figured it out. Yumichika had liked him for all that time but hadn't wanted to. He'd been mad, and when they'd been having sex, he'd made him be rough to keep from falling for his soft side. If Ikkaku had been sweet, Yumichika would've been completely done for. Well, Ikkaku was gonna' be sweet as fuck tonight. He grinned widely. Yeah, Yumichika would fall for him too. He knew this game now, and he'd play fair.
Getting in the water, he scrubbed his arms and legs hard with the washcloth, trying to slough off the rough skin and get rid of every trace of dirt and sweat that could've possibly accumulated since last night. Getting soap everywhere he could, Ikkaku thought about how Yumichika might act later on in the night if things went well.
Yumichika was probably going to fall back into his 'asshole' routine if Ikkaku made a wrong move, but if he played his cards right, this might be the start of something really nice.
He had to go meet Yumichika at the theatre at five. He wondered what kind of candy the little shit liked. Maybe Jujubes… Nah… Probably M&M's… Actually, now that Ikkaku thought about it, Yumichika probably wouldn't want candy. He'd want a hot pretzel. That sounded right in his head. Besides, if they got one, they'd have to share. Just another excuse to hold hands and get cozy and close.
Would Yumichika let him hold his hand in the dark?
Fuck, he was in deep. He really wanted this bad, didn't he.
Giving a sigh, Ikkaku got the floor wet as he got out of the shower and scrambled for a new razor under the sink, getting back in and lathering up down below. Just in case, you know? Just in case. Yeah.
Later, he sat on his bed and stretched out his legs. He had laid out his clothes earlier and was looking at them wondering if they were too wrinkled to actually wear out in public. He didn't own an iron, so they'd have to stay like they were. Clipping his toenails, Ikkaku started to think back to how hopeless he might end up being on this date. Because what the fuck was he supposed to actually do? Should he be sweet or mean? He didn't know.
Seriously, his whole dynamic with Yumichika ever since he'd first confessed all those months ago had been built on arguments, and maybe he'd confused that with passion, because even though the little skinny shit was so mean, Ikkaku had still loved him so hard and so painfully. What was he supposed to do now? Would their relationship feel flat somehow without that? It had already been weird enough to have Yumichika be semi-nice to him. Ikkaku almost felt like he was waiting for a bomb to go off or something. He felt like Yumichika was punking him, because this was what he'd dreamed for, mixed with what he'd lived with, and it was fucking weird.
He didn't know how to make Yumichika happy. It was so hit or miss that it was scary.
Ikkaku sighed – he'd been doing that a lot lately – checking himself in the mirror and making sure he had gotten dressed correctly. He looked good, he had to admit. His dress shirt was dark-grey and rolled up around his elbows, and he had black pants on that weren't too tight or too loose. He wasn't going to wear a tie, because he'd felt like that was overdoing it, but he grabbed his nice leather jacket, even though he knew it would be too hot to actually wear it out.
He gave his reflection a wary smile, shifting his weight to the side. He looked pretty good. This might be a guy that Yumichika could fall for. He felt really clean, really good, but...
Fuck, was he nervous.
Grabbing his keys and his jacket, he made sure he had tic-tac's, a fully-charged phone, a condom in his wallet, and money. The drive was about ten minutes, with his hands tight on the steering wheel. When he met Yumichika at five fifteen, the other man had already been waiting, and he could see him putting on chapstick in his car. Ikkaku swallowed hard, before opening his door and walking over, knocking on the window. Yumichika looked up and smiled.
Ikkaku had been really excited earlier, but now that it was time, he was pretty anxious. He was glad they were starting with a movie, since he wouldn't have to flail for something to say just yet.
The movie went by great, since Ikkaku was actually watching it instead of stressing out over how to get his arm around Yumichika's shoulder. He didn't waste time on that stupid 'yawn' move, and just put his arm around him the moment they sat down. Yumichika didn't say a fucking word and let him do it, and Ikkaku was inwardly fist-pumping at the small victory. With that out of the way, there was no pressure at all, and he didn't have to feel weird every time their fingers brushed in the popcorn bowl.
Sometimes it was hard to feel like they were sweethearts or boyfriends or lovers or whatever, because when they talked, they could be quite cruel and mean – even if it was in jest these days – so to be able to hold Yumichika for an hour and a half, completely relaxed like this was pretty nice. He knew things wouldn't stay like this, since they were going out to dinner afterwards, and they'd have to talk, but it was nice while it lasted.
Yumichika didn't put his head against his shoulder, because sitting down like this, they were pretty much the same height, and Ikkaku didn't blame him for not wanting to get a kink in his neck. Once or twice, Ikkaku jumped at an unexpected explosion, but Yumichika didn't begrudge him the sudden jerk to his shoulders as Ikkaku tensed up and jolted him where he was holding him.
At a couple points, especially the jokes and tense moments, Yumichika would lean into his ear and whisper something relevant, and Ikkaku would listen on and nod, making a noise in reply as warm breath ghosted over his neck. He always had to give a restrained sigh and smile dreamily at times like that, relaxing all over.
There were some jerks sitting behind them, but they stoically ignored it, paying attention to the film. Yumichika was so good at it that it really seemed like he actually couldn't hear a thing they were saying, but that couldn't be, because it was impossible to not hear these people. At the word 'disgusting', a nerve pinched in Ikkaku's forehead.
It wasn't like they were making out or something, so he didn't know what these people were making such a fuss about. They shut up pretty quick when he turned to glare at them and tell them that he couldn't hear the movie over their homophobia. Yumichika bit his lips hard and wheezed with a silent laugh that he didn't let out as Ikkaku scowled menacingly over their shoulders. Yumichika shook hard and clamped his hands over his mouth to keep from giggling out loud and disturbing anyone else. Ikkaku nudged his foot behind Yumichika's ankle and grinned.
Afterwards, they left the theater holding hands, and Ikkaku tentatively told Yumichika where he'd like to take him to dinner, asking if the place sounded okay. Yumichika snapped his fingers, face lighting up. "Shoot, I have a really nice gift card at my house that I've been meaning to use. Let's go get it," he said brightly, smiling, open and free rather than bitterly like usual, and Ikkaku had to stand there for a minute, staring.
"Uh…" Yumichika watched on for a moment as Ikkaku just stuttered, until he got his brain together again. So, wait, Yumichika actually wasn't going to criticize the place he'd chosen for them to go eat? He'd done something right?
So wait, first Yumichika hadn't been mad that he'd actually spoken up and confronted those idiots sitting behind them, he'd let him hold his shoulders in the theater, and he also found the restaurant to be acceptable. Ikkaku was three for three, and three was his lucky number. He couldn't stop now. He wasn't gonna' let Yumichika pay for dinner when he was the one taking him out, especially now that he knew that Yumichika actually liked the place.
"Wait, wait, but I wanted to take care of it. I mean, I'm not gonna' make you pay," Ikkaku said uncomfortably. "I know you're not a girl, but... I wanna' take care of it," he repeated. Yumichika just pushed him.
"Oh, don't worry about it. I want to use the card. Besides, you can drive me there to repay me." Ikkaku frowned heavily in confusion, trying to work that out in his head. Wait, so Yumichika was going to leave his car here and then… what, he would drive him back later? So that then he could drive himself home?
Not appreciating his slower mental planning, Yumichika gave an exasperated sigh. "Come on," Yumichika said, getting in his car. "Just follow behind me, and then we'll go eat."
Ikkaku shrugged; what the fuck was wrong with spontaneity? He bolted to his car when Yumichika teasingly honked the horn and started driving off. Little shit. Ikkaku smirked, shaking his head and following behind dutifully until they stopped in the driveway of Yumichika's home. It was a nice place with a porch and window flower-boxes and everything, but he had neighbors really close by. Really close by, as in, there was hardly room for a trash-can and a bike.
Yumichika practically threw his car into park and flung his front door open, running inside and coming back with his gift card. Ikkaku unlocked his passenger door when Yumichika knocked on the window, and let him get in, cursing himself when he realized that he hadn't cleaned his car!
He'd thought of everything, but had forgotten this! Damnit!
"Ah, shit, sorry about this," Ikkaku whined as he threw some laundry in the backseat frantically and shoved the rest of his junk onto the floor where Yumichika's feet would go. He hadn't known that Yumichika would end up riding with him and hadn't gotten his car ready. Shit, shit!
Yumichika pursed his lips and sat stiffly on the chair. Ikkaku was glad that he at least had leather seat-covers and crumb-free seat-cushions, along with an air-freshener hanging from the rear-view mirror. He looked at Yumichika despairingly, waiting for a verdict as he looked around the car with mild distaste, especially at the pile of CDs strewn on the floor and the mess of paper and napkins.
"It's not… completely bad," Yumichika said, voice higher than normal as if he was trying to make himself be less harsh than he would've been otherwise. Ikkaku frowned, but was satisfied enough as he backed out of the driveway. He gave himself a pat on the back for remembering to throw out all of the fast-food trash that he usually left in here. That wouldn't have gone over well.
"It's better on the inside than the out, I suppose," Yumichika eventually admitted, settling down, and Ikkaku relaxed. His car was kind of junky, but it ran just fine, and he'd kept the inside in good condition, and that was the important part.
Yumichika didn't say anything disparaging about his driving skills, since Ikkaku had kept his mild road rage in check tonight, and when they pulled up to the restaurant, Ikkaku reflexively held the door open for him and got them a nice table off to the side, near a window. As they ate dinner, Ikkaku made sure to stay on his absolute best behavior, and was put ill at ease with Yumichika's responses.
Not only had Yumichika refrained from insulting him even once, but the date was going completely normally. They had ordered their food without Yumichika making any disparaging comments about the waitress, the table, the location, the temperature, the food quality, or anything. They'd had a nice conversation speckled with mild flirtation and hand holding. Yumichika had even moved the candle in the center of the table aside so he could lean across and kiss him.
It was driving him mad, because it was so confusing. Yumichika was being very romantic and sweet, but it didn't make any sense to Ikkaku. He wanted to enjoy it, really he did, because this was what he had dreamed of, it was beyond what he'd expected, but it felt like a trap. It couldn't be so easy, right? He was just waiting for him to fuck up so he could deliver the kill blow, probably.
So there they were, talking about the movie and work and Ikkaku's crazy idol and his niece, and Yumichika was gazing at him and nodding every so often, fingers idly stroking his wrist from across the table. Ikkaku had to clear his throat now and then, because damn, Yumichika was really pretty, and it was making his palms sweat.
When it was time for them to go, they left a nice tip and exited holding hands. They drove to a park and sat on a bench in the night air for about half an hour, Yumichika settling against Ikkaku's side and leaning his head against him now, Ikkaku's arm around his shoulder.
"Thank you for taking me out, Ikkaku," Yumichika said with a small yawn, cuddling closer against him, hand on Ikkaku's chest, making his heart speed up.
"Anytime, babe," he said in reply, rather anxiously, but Yumichika just hummed at the pet name and smiled, eyes closed, digging his cheek into his shoulder. Ikkaku held his breath as he slowly crept his hand up Yumichika's side, closer and closer, almost there…
"You're actually a very sweet person," Yumichika mumbled, halting Ikkaku's progress for a minute. He had to pause at that, because he didn't know what the fuck was going on and he couldn't ignore it anymore. How could Yumichika just be so nice to him right now? What accounted for this one-eighty flip?
He suddenly understood why it felt too simple and why it made him uneasy. It was because he didn't deserve for it to be simple, and he knew it. That's why he'd been trying so hard - to subconsciously try to make up for the guilt he'd been ignoring.
Ikkaku didn't feel like he deserved to be treated like this, because Yumichika's attitude adjustment had happened after he'd fucked him rough in a freezer. Seriously, what the hell? How was that supposed to make Ikkaku feel? Like some sort of sicko! Like he'd fucked up Yumichika's head so bad that he'd gotten confused! What kind of man could be happy that their sweetheart had fallen for him because he'd done something that awful? Ikkaku didn't deserve to feel happy that Yumichika liked him back because of that. He didn't feel accomplished, like he'd finally succeeded and gotten what he'd wanted so badly.
He felt abusive.
He gave a sigh, wincing to himself, and replied, "You too… I really like you… and… I just wanted to say," he continued with apprehension, seeing Yumichika lift up his head to meet his eyes curiously. He was so beautiful, so beautiful.
He wanted Yumichika to love him, but he didn't want him to fall for him for the wrong reasons.
"I won't ever treat you like that again," Ikkaku said lowly, "Like I did that day, I mean. I'll never hurt you, I promise. Not your heart, not your body." He meant that with everything he had. Yumichika gave a silent laugh, face spreading in a smile, eyes flicking down.
"So sweet," Yumichika repeated quietly, shaking his head as he looked back up to Ikkaku, slowly snaking his arms around his neck. Ikkaku let out a shaky breath, in disbelief as he let his own arms wrap around Yumichika's back. He'd never thought he'd get an intimate embrace like this from Yumichika, and pushing his luck, he ran one hand up to the side of Yumichika's face, feeling his pulse point and then sliding his fingers into his hair just as Yumichika leaned forward to kiss him.
He gave a sigh, kissing back firmly, both hands now enmeshed in Yumichika's hair, which was every bit as silky, soft, and sweet-smelling as he'd ever hoped. Somehow though, his gut was clenched up in anxiety and his brain was telling him something was going to go wrong. There had to be more to this. Something was bound to happen. It was just too simple, too flat, too bland almost.
It should've been more difficult, more difficult to get Yumichika to trust him, to let him in, to change his ways, but it had happened in one night, and Yumichika was holding him like he loved him more than anything. It should've given Ikkaku confidence, strength, but it didn't feel quite right. He'd known that Yumichika probably had a brain that wasn't wired right for normal romance, but he didn't want it to be that way. Ikkaku didn't feel good about this, was this guilt?
Yumichika had forgiven him for that junk that he'd done. It had been a week, and it had been the best of his life, but somehow he couldn't enjoy it.
A bell jingled as Renji shouldered open the door to the café, letting Ichigo in beside him so he could go pick out a table. Ichigo sat down hurriedly, ducking his head like he was afraid someone would recognize him, even though he'd picked a place that was obscured from the outside windows and the rest of the shop because of a big pillar and halfway-down window-blinds. It was pretty private, but still, it was a public place and Ichigo felt like everyone would know.
He'd finally let Renji drag him on that date. Sure, it was he who had brought up the point that Renji should take him out to dinner, but this wasn't dinner. Dinner could be a social thing, a business thing, a long-time-friends-reconnecting thing, but a milkshake date was exactly that. It was a date and nothing else.
Ichigo had told Renji exactly what he'd do if he came back with only one glass and two straws, so Renji came back with two. Strawberry-banana for him, vanilla with coconut for Ichigo. Ichigo grabbed his glass the moment it was set down and jammed the straw in his mouth so he'd have an excuse not to say anything. Renji gave him a fond smile that made Ichigo's shoulders bunch up as he sat down, practically draping himself over the chair. He was as relaxed as a big cat lounging in the jungle and it made Ichigo really irritated.
Renji stretched his legs out and took a sip of his drink, poking Ichigo's ankle with his foot teasingly. Ichigo glared, but didn't say anything, and Renji rubbed him a little, smiling in a way that wasn't teasing or lecherous at all. Renji was being too fucking nice and it was making it impossible for Ichigo to think of a logical reason to be mad.
The guy was just too damn affectionate. There. He was mad because Renji always had to be touching on him, didn't he.
It wasn't even that he was being overly sweet and sappy now, because his attitude and demeanor was the same as ever. He was still a fucking asshole who pushed Ichigo's buttons like crazy and teased him like he did that day. It's just that the touches were there way more and there was more affection in his gaze, his words were more caring at times. The touches were causal, maybe overly familiar, maybe even loving, but the way Renji was so nonchalant about it, like it wasn't even a big deal, that was what made it so weird. It wasn't like there had been some huge shift in his behavior, almost like this was just a facet of him that had always been there but he'd never seen.
Ichigo let out a slow breath, because he knew that Renji had wanted this for a long time, and didn't exactly want to ruin it for him or something. He scootched in closer to the table, and to his chagrine, Renji did too, taking his hand and asking if he wanted to trade drinks to try a taste. Ichigo nodded and stuck his straw in Renji's drink, taking a sip, displeased when their foreheads knocked together. Renji just raised his eyebrows in false innocence, drinking it at the same time, and Ichigo gave a groan and leaned back again.
He felt ridiculous.
Renji just gave a low chuckle, rubbing Ichigo's knuckles with his thumb. "You're so shy, man," he teased, and Ichigo just growled at him in reply. "Since when do you get shy when it doesn't involve boobs?"
"I'm not shy, I just don't want people to see," he hissed, looking around and leaning around the pillar to see if anyone was coming. The bathrooms were right behind their table, so someone was bound to walk by them eventually. Renji gave him a brief look, smile fading just slightly as the look on his face said something like, 'see what exactly?'
"Don't tell me you're ashamed to be seen with me," Renji jibed, grinning toothily, and Ichigo just rolled his eyes, leaning his face on his hand, elbow on the table.
"Who wouldn't be embarrassed of you?!" he whisper-shrieked aggressively, not meaning it in the least, and Renji let out a loud laugh that made Ichigo slap him.
"No one's gonna' say anything, and if they do, don't let it bother you. It's not like we're grinding against the wall," Renji reminded, "We're not wearing rainbow bands. We're just having a drink."
"That'd be so reassuring if this was alcohol and not a smoothie. People will totally know. Everyone knows," Ichigo insisted, face aflame and pressed into his palms. Renji looked concerned then, dropping his teasing attitude for a minute.
"C'mon man, what's wrong with you? Since when has confrontation bothered you? If someone starts pickin' shit, we'll handle it and set 'em straight. There's nothin' wrong with what we are," he insisted, almost looking proud of the two of them as he laced their fingers together. Ichigo grit his teeth.
"Oh yeah? And what are we?"
"Dating," Renji said simply, looking slightly cautious like Ichigo might say that they aren't. "We're dating, and the only people whose business it is, is us, so don't worry about what people are thinking. They don't matter. They're not part of this," he reminded, "and if they think they somehow are involved and get to tell you what they think's okay, you can make 'em stop being nosy, with these." He held up his fists. Ichigo nodded.
"I… I guess I could just kick their asses." Yes, this imaginary 'they' had been plaguing his thoughts a lot lately. What would people think of him now? He already had this bright hair that everyone thought was dyed, and now if he was seen holding hands with a dude, people would rightly assume that he was taking it up the ass.
It just upset him, because he knew if people thought they were in a relationship, no matter what, they'd always assume that he was the bottom. They'd be right, of course, but he didn't want people to know that. Renji was taller than him by a little, broader by a little, tougher looking by a little, and Ichigo knew that even if he looked tough next to Uryu, tough on his own, when he was next to Renji, he'd always be seen as the bottom. It ate away at him like crazy.
It hadn't been easy to let Renji dominate him, to give up that control, and he didn't want people to know that he'd given in. He wanted people to see the tough person that he was, the one who could beat you up in a second flat. He didn't want people to know that someone like him had submit. He and Renji were both Alphas, and he didn't want people to know that he'd been the one to cave.
He felt like he'd die of shame if they knew.
Seeing his distress, Renji reached out and brushed an errant piece of orange hair down for him. "Look… Ichigo, Hey." Ichigo looked in his eyes reluctantly. "The only ones you should be worried about are our friends and your family, and do you really think they'd reject you or think a' you differently? You won't have to give up your life to be with me," Renji promised softly. "Nothing will change if you don't let it. We're the same people… There'll just be more shit-talkers, but you don't have to give a fuck about that if you don't want to. You don't have to give them power over you. You never did before, so why start now."
Ichigo gave a half-shrug, but in honesty, that had made him feel a lot better.
Renji smiled in satisfaction and leaned back in his chair slightly, taking the straw out of his drink and chugging half of it in one go, wiping a little bit of pink off of his upper lip afterwards. "Whew. It is fucking hot out today, yeah?"
"Mhm."
"Even my dick is sweating."
"You are fucking nasty," Ichigo said, feeling less cranky now, letting Renji's feet entangle with his as they talked about organizing some kind of beach outing with all their friends soon. They'd postponed last year's volley-ball death match against Ikkaku and Iba, and it was time to slaughter them once and for all.
They spent about an hour there, and Renji was still acting like his newly affectionate self, making Ichigo pretty uncomfortable, but it was bearable. It wasn't like Ichigo to suffer silently through something, but he knew it would be more of a hassle if he made a racket and drew more attention to them by yelling at Renji to stop touching him so much.
Walking back to their apartment was hell. It was really hot outside, and muggy too, so by the time they were back, greeted with a blast of hot air when they opened the door, Renji clomped inside and announced, "I've been waiting to do this all day," and then fucking stripped down in the middle of their living room before Ichigo could hardly close the door.
"Aw fuck dude, don't just get naked. C'mon!" Ichigo griped.
"Quit fucking screaming. It's my house too, and I'm gonna' cool off if I want to."
It was a crime to wear tightey-whities past the age of ten in Ichigo's eyes, but they were a legitimate athletic support and looked good on certain kinds of men, and Renji was one of those few guys who could pull it off. Damn, could he make cheap from-a-package underwear look good. Ichigo swallowed hard and told himself to look away as Renji pulled his jeans off from around his ankles, long thigh muscles flexing and glistening just slightly from sweat. He shucked his shirt off and threw it on the ground, sitting down heavily on the couch and fanning himself, chest and abdomen heaving with every breath, causing the light to catch on the wet patches.
Annnnd just like that, he was hard.
Ichigo pursed his lips, stood there for a moment more, and then walked away. Fuck his life.
"C'mon and watch TV with me," Renji called, pulling off his socks and letting his big feet rest on the coffee table, leaving a sweat imprint. Yeah, now that he was lethargic and spread out like that, Ichigo knew there would be no moving him for the rest of the day. After standing there for another dazed moment, viewing those dark crisp tattoos and the beaded moisture all over his tan skin, he snapped himself back to alertness and noted that their creator had done a mighty fine job on this one. He was the picture of masculinity and casual power lurking just beneath the surface, like a tiger taking a nap. Yeah, Ichigo was absolutely fucking done for; it was official, he was attracted to a man, and there was no getting around it. Just looking at him right now was making Ichigo's inner beast go 'rrrr!'
Ichigo cautiously took his shoes off and crashed on the couch next to Renji, who put his arm around his shoulder. Ichigo dodged his sweaty armpit, but let his arm stay there while Renji put on '47 Ronin'.
Renji had been treating him really nice at home, making them breakfast and shit and hugging him on the couch, maybe giving him a shoulder-rub when he was tense, and Ichigo was still struggling to get used to the fact that it seemed like he had no personal space bubble anymore. Renji didn't actively try to get in his pants all the time and would back off when Ichigo said 'no', but the thought was always lingering there, making him wonder just how lust-driven Renji really was when he did these things. It didn't seem like he was being nice just to get him in bed, but sometimes Ichigo wondered. Anything but it being love sounded more logical.
Anyway, whenever Renji shifted or pressed his damp leg against Ichigo's side, it made Ichigo's hard-on get a little tighter, a little more pressing, until you would've had to be blind not to notice it. Unfortunately for Ichigo, Renji was pretty focused on this movie and was leaning his head against his absently, which was the kind of personal attention that Ichigo could tolerate: closeness without the direct focus. It was completely different when Renji was holding his hand and doing that eye-gazing thing. This was better, with Renji watching something else while he held him and stroked his arm. Maybe it wasn't so much the attention that bothered Ichigo, but that he didn't know how to react properly to it, so it was much easier to handle being touched when Renji wasn't watching his responses.
Ichigo couldn't have told you jack shit about the movie, eyes honing in on this singular drop of sweat that was slowly carving its way down between Renji's pectorals. It was agonizing to watch it move just a tiny bit with each of Renji's breaths, muscles defining and relaxing. Sweat was pooling in the dip of his collar bones, and when he leaned forward, it started to leak down and force that drop to run all the way down his belly in one smooth motion, eventually being soaked into the waistband of his underwear. Ichigo swallowed, looking at the large outline in the white fabric, the trail of dark red hair that extended up to his bellybutton and the sharp 'V' of muscle that cut straight down from his hips and dipped between his legs.
Apparently he'd made some sort of broken strangled noise, because Renji was looking at him now, obviously noticing his arousal. Renji gave a soft hum of acknowledgement and turned the volume of the movie down slightly, gently biting Ichigo's ear and mouthing at his neck. Ichigo tried to dodge, grimacing, but his resistance crumbled when Renji's big strong hand cupped the front of his jeans, squeezing and massaging the hard bulge that was begging for air.
Renji didn't make any teasing comments about his stamina or his self-control, nor did he rib him about being insatiable or that of course he was hard if he was watching him. He just hopped off the couch, a hand going underneath each of Ichigo's thighs as he pulled him forward, moving inbetween his legs. Ichigo let out a restrained sigh when Renji bit at the front of his crotch and slowly unzipped his pants, pulling them down.
Ichigo grit his teeth hard in relief when his erection got some air, still straining against the stretchy fabric of his grey boxer briefs. Renji rubbed him firmly, biting teasingly at the waistband and pulling it down his legs with both hands, finally freeing his arousal. Ichigo let out a gasp when Renji made a fist around the base, which pretty much swallowed the entire thing in his hand, leaving only the tip exposed for Renji to tease with his tongue. Ichigo took one moment to meet his dark brown eyes; they were bright and unashamed as he sucked on the head of his erection. Ichigo watched for a few seconds before the pleasure became too much and he let his head flop back onto the couch, hands going to the sides of Renji's head.
Renji had done this before, of course, but Ichigo didn't think he was even close to getting used to it. It still felt like the first time, hot and wet, and with just the right amount of pressure from his teeth. He didn't think there was anything in the world that could feel better than Renji's mouth. Ichigo bit his lip hard, rubbing Renji's hair to try to ground himself. Soon he just held Ichigo straight by making a ring with his thumb and forefinger while he took him in with deep rhythmic strokes, twisting his head each time.
This time it wasn't like before though. It wasn't with frantic urgent motions like when he'd just wanted to prepare Ichigo to go further. No, this was slow and deliberate, romantic even. Renji was stroking his leg with one hand and moving his tongue lazily but with extreme care, thinking out every motion as he looked up into Ichigo's eyes. Ichigo's gut clenched up as he kept alternating between throwing his head back in bliss and curling up again to watch and stroke Renji's cheek with shaking knuckles. It went on for a few minutes, Renji obviously enjoying this just as much as Ichigo was, caressing his legs lovingly, occasionally licking up the side of the shaft as he pumped it and then kissed Ichigo's tummy.
Ichigo let out a strangled moan when Renji finally took him back inside, going all the way down once, really slowly, enough that Ichigo could consciously feel when he breached the ring of muscle of his throat. Ichigo held his breath and he swore he could feel his brain cells dying by the thousands as Renji moved his head from side to side slightly and exhaled, his nose pressing down against his lower stomach.
With a muffled cough, he pulled back, sucking with increasing pressure when he came back to the tip, landing a gentle kiss there that made Ichigo breathless. A noise that he would've been otherwise embarrassed about escaped him, and Renji laughed lowly, smiling widely as he blew a cooling trail over him and then smiled again at the pleased sigh he received. Ichigo gave a dazed smile in return, muscles relaxing all over, turning to goo. Things made sense at moments like these. Things felt right when Renji was looking at him like this. Nothing that felt so good could be wrong. When Ichigo felt this way, being intimate wasn't a scary thing. It felt like it was love when he was doing this. He never wanted to do it with anyone else.
"Renji…" Ichigo exhaled, eyes drifting shut for a moment in bliss as he panted, sweat breaking out on his chest and sticking his shirt to his body. He stroked Renji's face and watched him pleasure him, such an erotic sight. It still embarrassed him to look for extended amounts of time if it got too intense, but a secret part of him really loved to watch.
Renji's breaths were bordering on hums now, and then he let out an audible one, deep and long, vibrating his hard-on and letting Ichigo hear just how much desire he felt for him. It sent a sharp chill down Ichigo's spine, and he let out a tense moan, rubbing his hand clumsily over Renji's forehead and around the base of his ponytail, trying to push him down in desperation.
Renji didn't let him, gently taking his hand away and lacing their fingers, moving back to suck gently at the tip of his penis and run his tongue around it in a circle before sucking him back in in one smooth slow motion, going all the way down. Oh, that felt really good, and Ichigo let out a soft sigh. "Getting close," he warned. Renji nodded, not backing off.
"Oooh," Ichigo exhaled in desperation, voice choked. "Ohhh," he moaned, hands on both sides of Renji's head for a moment, gripping tight and then sporadically moving to his shoulders, then to the couch cushions on either side of him, then jamming under his own thighs to make them sit still. Renji gave the tiniest smile and didn't increase his slow pace, hungrily growling in the back of his throat and giving him another kiss on the side of his shaft as he stroked leisurely. Ichigo thought he would die if he came from slow contact. He needed it faster or the pleasure would be much too sharp, too deep for him to handle. This orgasm was going to be powerful, and he could already feel it mounting.
Renji was sucking on him again, and his tongue felt so good that Ichigo's eyes were wet with moisture. He couldn't sit still, and by now he was begging mentally for it to continue. "Renji, if you don't want a mouthful, you've gotta-" he cut himself off with a tight groan as Renji stroked him into his mouth, hand coordinating effortlessly with his lips and hot tongue. "Aaah," he moaned, voice going gritty and clenched as his balls tightened up. "Nngh," he gasped, convulsing, and Renji sucked on him until the very last moment, at which he pulled back and let Ichigo's cum roll down his fingers, continuing to pump him firmly throughout his orgasm, which just about made Ichigo cry from the intensity.
"Ah!" he shouted, pushing Renji's hand back when the aftershocks became too strong, and he lay there shaking, hair dark from sweat, slowly coming down from the peak, breath becoming slower and easier. Renji wiped away the semen with his discarded shirt, not seeming to mind at all since it was going in the laundry anyway, and Ichigo just let out a shuddery warning moan when the fabric rubbed over his sensitive parts. Renji smiled at him, licking his lips and patting his leg gently, like he enjoyed seeing how much pleasure he'd been able to bring him, and not even in a lustful way. Renji's eyes were too soft right then, too tender, and it put Ichigo back on earth almost immediately.
Renji leaned forward to kiss him, holding his face with one hand and pressing their lips together with just the tiniest bit of tongue. He broke it with a hum, then pecking Ichigo on the cheek, grinning. "You're too cute, kid," he mumbled, causing Ichigo to glare at him. Renji just chuckled and kissed his nose again, pawing at the front of his own underwear with a slow sigh. Ichigo's eyes darted down that muscular gleaming body then, seeing that Renji was hard, very hard.
He asked if Ichigo would help him out, but Ichigo scratched the back of his neck, avoiding his gaze. What had that been? That hadn't been lust at all between them at that time, and already Ichigo felt very threatened, like he'd made a horrible mistake. That hadn't been Renji trying to get it over with as fast as possible so they could progress, no, that had been Renji loving him, being intimate and close and making him feel every bit of it.
"Actually, I've gotta' get started on dinner," Ichigo said flatly, looking the other way as he stood and did up his pants.
Renji gave him a long look, his eyes seeming to be staring right into him. His expression was indecipherable, and Ichigo couldn't see disappointment, frustration, anger, or acceptance. Renji was analyzing him, and Ichigo felt like there were bugs crawling down his arms. Finally, Renji shrugged, closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows. "Okay, man. Tell me when those ribs are done, and I'll cut them apart, since you're useless with a knife." With that, he lay back on the sofa and turned the TV volume back up, leaving his erection alone like it wasn't even bothering him. Ichigo stood there for a moment staring in apprehension.
That was it? Renji was just gonna' be okay with him doing something like that? That just made him feel like the biggest asshole in the world, and maybe that's what he was. He'd deliberately dodged returning the favor, but Renji had just let him.
"Yeah fucking right," Ichigo mumbled in reply to Renji, "See if you're saying that when I slit your throat." Renji didn't turn around, but made his hand make a bla-bla-bla motion over the edge of the couch at him. Ichigo just gave a grunt and a dazed shake of his head, legs still weak from the aftermath of the pleasure. Some part of him felt like he should be cuddled up to Renji right now, mixing their sweat and enjoying the after-glow, but it still seemed so wrong to the rational part of his brain.
That thing in Renji's eye, that passionate deep thing, Ichigo didn't feel that. He must not feel that, because surely he'd notice something that big and powerful? He must not really be in love. He didn't feel this love thing that Renji did. When Renji said he loved him, he said it like it was the truest thing in the world, but Ichigo couldn't be more confused.
He wasn't sure of what this was, like Renji was. Moreover, he didn't feel like he deserved the tender affection in Renji's eyes or the sweet gestures. He deserved to have Renji be that cocky uncaring shit he was the first day, the one that had made Ichigo yearn for love his in his touch, long for sweet words. At least then, he'd been sure of what he'd wanted.
He sighed, looking back to Renji again, who'd by now killed his erection from getting back into watching his movie. Ichigo knew he should be over there returning the favor, but he didn't have the heart to speak up about it. Wouldn't it be dishonest to pretend like he wanted to when he didn't? He didn't want to give Renji false hope. He was starting to wonder if he was ever going to be sure about this, if he was ever going to wake up in the morning and look at Renji's face and think, 'I absolutely love this man.'
Ichigo had thought that love was supposed to be a sure thing, something you know the moment you feel it, but it wasn't like that, and he was starting to regret this whole thing had ever happened.
He had to get his shit together real soon, or he was just gonna' end up continuing with leading Renji on like this. It was only gonna' get worse, and Ichigo knew that, and he couldn't hide what he didn't feel forever, and he knew that too, but for the life of him, he didn't want to let go just yet.
Whoops, I think I got too close,
Cause' now he's telling me I'm the boy that he likes most.
