A/N: I won't keep writing disclaimers at the start of every chapter: I believe you are all aware of the fact that I am NOT Tite Kubo. Well, having said that, let's immediately get on with the second chapter to get you in the right mood!
Lips moved along heated flesh, gliding up and down, leaving a burning trail in their wake, an insatiable desire, kissing everywhere and nowhere, hands accompanying them and roaming over sensitive places. Sensuous words were formed, words he could barely comprehend through his hazed mind, eyes clouded with lust, aching need, as struggling became harder.
'Don't deny me your body, Kisuke…'
Midnight purple hair tickling his skin, golden eyes intense and too focused, as if this were a mere task she had to fulfil without mistakes instead of a display of love. But she never made mistakes. She couldn't, in his eyes.
She was perfect.
Just like the small droplets of sweat on her body, making her dark skin gleam in the dim light as she eagerly continued her ministrations. Just like the elegant, nimble fingers, now stroking through his damp hair, then moving lower again. Just like her breath, more shallow than usual, and her slightly swollen lips moving along his chest.
All was perfect. Just like her words.
'I want you to need me like I need you…'
Urahara Kisuke awoke with a jolt, surprised, ashamed even that he had dreamed about this. Again. His flushed cheeks were in painful contrast to his pale skin, and his sandy blond hair was glued against his forehead on which beads of sweat had gathered. The blankets had slid down to his waist as he sat up straight, and only moments after trying to control his quite heavy breathing, he dared a glance at the covered frame next to him.
Even asleep she was still a goddess.
He noticed he had disrupted her favourite position during his abrupt waking up, though, as she wasn't able to snuggle up against his chest anymore, and she purred in a dissatisfied way.
A shaky smile broke through on his face as he watched her while stabilising his raging heartbeat again. Never again. Never again this dream, right? Ah. But how many times had he promised himself that? Besides, some more southern parts of his anatomy betrayed that he didn't exactly hate this kind of dreams, it was just… Inconvenient. Especially when the object of his desires was lying right next to him.
It was too early and too chilly to take a cold shower, and solving the problem right here and now would certainly cause difficulties since he wasn't exactly what they would call the "silent type". Only one solution left, then: ignore it and go back to sleep.
With a soft sigh, he turned on his side, his back facing Yoruichi. Not a second later, he could feel her front pressing against him, sending shivers of warmth and delight through his body. He cursed inwardly. Stupid cat-like nature. This wasn't really helping him a lot, actually.
He groaned silently, frustrated, before pretending he couldn't hear the soft snoring in his ear, couldn't smell her hair, – peaches and white roses – couldn't feel her warm breath in his neck and hair or the soft skin pressed against his.
Che. Tanned and pale. Black and white. Yin and Yang. They fit perfectly together, but both were too stubborn, too hesitant – too afraid to destroy an ancient friendship, perhaps? – to make the first move. So they kept avoiding their true emotions, hiding them underneath the cover of them being feelings of a close friendship. Very close indeed. So close he could even feel her heart beat in her chest, right through their skin, batting the same rhythm of his own heart. It gave him peace, somewhere. And after a while, he even fell asleep again. And he began to dream.
Again.
