Stroke of Midnight
There is never enough time. Between the extra courses he petitioned to take and the part-time job that is steadily turning into something resembling a career, Uryuu can never seem to catch up. There are three exams coming up, a massive term paper due Friday, and his boss has been nagging him about working some weekend shifts to help with extra summer traffic. To make things that much worse, his professor just sent an email rescheduling a complex laboratory experiment for next week instead of next month.
Even taking a long breath and slowly releasing it doesn't begin to take the edge off his mild panic attack. Uryuu gathers up his laptop, textbooks, and pack of trusty multi-colored highlighters. The library's soothing atmosphere is no longer having the intended effect on his fragile mental state. Keeping a level head and exerting his time-management skills to the max simply won't cut it this time. Uryuu needs a miracle. He needs a break. He needs…
"Ouch!"
"Sorry!"
He needs to not get slammed into by some blind, boulder-bodied buffoon racing through the hall. Rubbing his aching head and adjusting skewed glasses, Uryuu glances up to see none other than his former organic chemistry TA's contrite visage. Most of his irritation dissipates—replaced with the typical mixture of excitement and discomfiture—as he recognizes the man who has been his first and only university crush since they met in class nearly a year ago. As usual, he does his very best to tuck those feelings aside and act like a normal classmate.
"In a hurry, Kurosaki?"
"Sorry," he apologizes again, "Someone said they saw you leaving and I didn't want to miss you."
That raises Uryuu's eyebrows and heart rate alike. He asks, "You were looking for me?"
"I wanted to ask if you had plans this Saturday. I was hoping…maybe you'd like to go to a party with me?"
His response takes some time to articulate. Although Uryuu would categorize his relationship with Kurosaki Ichigo as 'friendly', they are more akin to casual acquaintances. Occasionally running into each other, they pause to chat now and then but it rarely leads to anything more involved. They have never even exchanged phone numbers! A personal invite to a party seems to be skipping quite a few steps on the social staircase.
"I…I would like to but I can't. Unfortunately, I stay very busy even during summer terms."
"Oh." Kurosaki's face falls in obvious disappointment. It sparks a matching twinge in Uryuu's chest. "Of course, I should've guessed that. Every time I see you around campus you seem really preoccupied."
"It's just that I foolishly signed up for twenty hours this semester and my part-time job is incredibly demanding right now…"
Kurosaki shakes his head and forces a strained smile. "No, I totally understand. It's no big deal. I'll get out of your way and let you get back to, uh, whatever it was you were doing. Sorry again for bumping into you, Ishida."
An intolerable pulse of regret hits Uryuu as he watches the guy of his dreams shuffle dejectedly past. Did Kurosaki just ask him on a date? Could it be possible? The chances are slim at best, but Uryuu can't bear the thought of missing such an opportunity. Gods know he will never scrounge up the courage to ask. With this thought in mind, he puts all thoughts of what he 'should' do aside and hurries to catch Kurosaki while he can.
"Wait! I probably can't go, but…" The hopeful tint to brown eyes instantly firms Uryuu's resolve. "If I can somehow get out of work and finish my essay early, I could try to meet you there for an hour or so."
This time the smile isn't strained at all. Kurosaki encourages, "All right, I'll take it. Here, let me write down the address for you."
"Or you could text it to me," shyly mumbles Uryuu.
"Sure." Taking a step closer, Kurosaki is practically grinning as he pulls out his cell phone. "What's your number?"
The next day, Uryuu reads his phone and smiles for the millionth time since he gave Kurosaki his number. One day and they already have a lengthy scroll of witty dialogue going. Despite taking up precious moments of his limited time, he can't keep himself from indulging their sporadic conversation between editing paragraphs of his term paper. Every new syllable has him yearning that much harder for the party tomorrow night. Not because Uryuu is that into drinking and dancing and suffocating in a frat house full of horny teens more interested in getting laid than getting an education, but because he can finally hang out with Kurosaki in an informal situation.
Because for the first time in the three years since he enrolled here, Uryuu might get to actually enjoy his life.
"Wasting time on your phone? And here I dropped by to congratulate you on your academic dedication of late."
Who is he kidding? With a father like Ryuuken, there can be no room for extraneous emotions like happiness and levity.
"I was checking my email," Uryuu half-fibs. "I'm almost finished with this essay and I still have two hours before my evening shift at the shop."
"If you have time for email, you have time to study. I gave you that phone for emergencies, not distractions."
"According to you, anything short of a natural disaster would qualify as a 'distraction'! What is so wrong with having friends who like to talk with me now and then?"
Frown deepening impossibly, Ryuuken marches into the room and snatches the cell from his son's loose grasp. He takes one look at the screen, boasting a silly text from Kurosaki, and freezes in fury.
"Friends are the worst distraction of all. They steal your time, sap your energy, and keep you from achieving all that is your due. Clearly, I made a mistake in giving this to you if this is how you choose to abuse it. Finish the semester with flawless grades and I might consider returning it."
His father dealt the lethal blow and swept from the room after a lingering glare. Uryuu's protestations stuck in his throat. He knew it was useless to argue. The punishment would only grow the more he attempted to debate it. A wash of helpless resentment and injustice had him slouching in his chair. The press of shaking fingers to paling face did little to soothe in the wake of devastation. Not only is he unable talk to Kurosaki off-campus anymore, but Uryuu will not be able to attend the party as he hadn't gotten the address yet. Anyway, his essay is not finished, his shift at work isn't covered, and he has no mode of transportation even if he knew where to go. Really, it was a doomed prospect from the start.
The worst part is he can't tell Kurosaki why he won't be there, particularly since their messages have been implying he will find a way to attend. He could be waiting for Uryuu to show all night, looking for him in the crowd and texting him to no avail. Kurosaki will never ask him out again after this, if it's even a date at all. Now he'll never know.
A dusty box full of mostly expired sweets pretty much sums up his state of mind at the moment. Uryuu marks a black slash through a barcode and tosses another candy bar atop the 'discard' pile. He jots a quick note on his clipboard and sighs.
Attending that party with Kurosaki was a long-shot to begin with and he is beyond used to disappointment. Still, it roils inside the pit of Uryuu's stomach all through his shift at the candy shop. If his boss notices a change in his demeanor, Urahara doesn't mention it. He approaches Uryuu halfway through his evening shift, gesturing for him to stop counting inventory so they can speak. Setting the clipboard on top of a narrow table and tucking the Sharpie into an apron pocket, he courteously gives his full attention.
"I haven't forgotten yesterday's request to shorten your hours tonight, you know," the man genially begins, leaning against a stack of boxes propped against the storeroom wall. "I just got word from Jinta, so you'll be free to go as soon as he comes in."
"Jinta-kun agreed to cover me?" Uryuu incredulously asks.
Urahara glances askance. "Well, I may have firmly reminded him of the numerous times you have covered his shifts on short-notice without complaint."
"I…thank you, Urahara-san, but I don't need the coverage anymore."
"Why not?" he frowns, easily reading Uryuu's dejected tone. "Has something happened?"
A cynical bastardization of laughter escapes before he can smother it. "Nothing I care to burden you with. Just the usual limitations of being Ishida Ryuuken's son."
Anyone else might pause in puzzlement, but Urahara knows his father well enough to get the picture from that sentence alone. He nods sagely and guides Uryuu through an archway to sit at the makeshift breakroom table, handing over a clean hand towel to clear clinging dust from his clothes and hair. Sinking across from him, Urahara affixes soulful grey eyes to crestfallen blue.
"Tell me."
So, Uryuu does. Working with Urahara for the past three years on top of his being a family friend most of his life makes him easier to talk to than most. Uryuu briefly explains how trying it is living under Ryuuken's iron fist when all he truly wants is to be a normal university student with friends and free time and occasional fun. It doesn't seem like that much to ask, considering how hard he works at living up to his father's standards. Is one party such a heinous request? Doesn't Uryuu deserve just one night off from the constant pressures of perfection?
Urahara listens in considerate silence until his final words are uttered with a hint of self-pitying waver. He doesn't like this side of himself any more than Ryuuken does, but at least he can forgive himself for a dash of fallibility.
"And I finally got invited to a real college party," he morosely concludes, staring at the fingers interlocked in his lap. "I worked so hard on that essay to get it done on time but…it was all for nothing. I should have known better than to dream beyond my means."
When he risks a glance at his boss, Urahara is wearing a rare expression of irritation. It vanishes in a blink, though remnants of the anomaly remain in his tone, "For all that Ishida-san does well, raising children is arguably not among them."
"What?" blurts Uryuu, shocked at this bold assertion. "Are…are you saying you agree with me?"
"Of course, you poor young man! Never been to a party at your age? Unacceptable! Something must be done." This last is uttered darkly and with a hint of speculation. Urahara rubs his chin in thought for a moment before snapping his fingers in revelation. "I've got it! Follow me, Ishida-kun, we'll be closing the shop early tonight."
"You're joking!"
"Absolutely not." When Uryuu doesn't rise from the chair on his own, Urahara takes his arm and drags him along, flipping out lights along the way to the front door. As he locks it from the outside, he says, "I'll get you to that party if it's the last thing I do."
Verging on panic, he politely objects, "I appreciate the gesture, but Ryuuken—"
"I'll handle your father."
"Even if that were possible, which I am almost certain it isn't, I don't have the address without my phone."
"You're going to steal it back. I can help with that, too."
Rendered momentarily speechless at the sudden turn of events, Uryuu finds himself being pushed into the passenger seat of a car parked behind the shop. He regains his voice by the time Urahara gets in beside him and starts the engine.
"Urahara-san, this is crazy! It will never work. And what about Jinta-kun? He'll be so confused when he shows up to find the shop closed."
"I'm sure he will find something to occupy those four hours with instead of working for me."
"But…"
They continue like this for most of the short ride to Uryuu's house. Every issue has a ready solution, every worry a quick reassurance. He has no idea why Urahara is taking it upon himself to become his savior, but he is intensely grateful despite his many protests. Truthfully, he has already been so good to Uryuu that inconveniencing the man is the last thing he wants to do. Yet, he is desperate and attending this party would mean so much to him.
By the time they pull into his driveway, Uryuu is delicately optimistic.
"Is there a back way up to your room?"
"There is a tree, yes, and my window is unlatched. I think I can get in without much noise."
"Good. Sneak in while I distract your dad downstairs. Just keep in mind that he'll kick me out by midnight. He's the only adult I know who has such a strict bed time."
"That still doesn't solve the problem of my phone being hidden in his study somewhere."
"I'll call your cell at exactly seven-fifteen so you can try to find it." Urahara stops him from getting out of the car to add, "Wear something you wouldn't normally. No vests or white button-ups. Do you have jeans? Tighter is better."
At that, Uryuu splutters unintelligibly. Has his boss guessed that this is more of a date than anything casual, or…On second thought, he doesn't want to know what Urahara is thinking.
"I…yes, I own jeans."
"When you find your phone, send me a picture of the outfit. This is far too important to take chances on a slap-dash attempt."
"A-all right, I will."
"Actually," he starts the engine again and immediately reverses from the driveway. "We're going shopping."
"What!? No, that isn't neces—"
"The party starts at eight, right? Plenty of time."
"Yes, but—"
"Don't worry about the cost. A friend of mine owns a boutique and she won't mind lending us a few stylish articles."
"Urahara-san, I can't accept this much! There's really no need to go so far over something like this. It's enough that you've listened to me complain. I can handle the rest on my own."
All he gets is a mysterious smile as Urahara eases on the accelerator.
Less than two hours later, Uryuu is standing in front of a large two-story house wearing new clothes more expensive than his laptop, his retrieved cell phone safely nestled in a pocket, and Urahara's borrowed car keys in the other. His heart is threatening to burst from his chest as he steps up to the door and rings the bell. The bass-heavy music of a live band can be heard emanating through the sturdy structure. It spills out, energetic and inviting, as someone opens the front door. Uryuu opens his mouth to offer some excuse for his presence there but the jovial student merely ushers him inside, pointing him in the direction of a nearby keg.
Alcohol holds no appeal for him. What he truly wants is to find Kurosaki, but the room is flooded with students and swathed in darkness. Mood lighting in the form of colorful string lights provides most of the ambience. He makes his way further into the house, searching in each room for the one person here he wants to see. A few familiar faces jump out at him, classmates and club acquaintances, but no sign of his maybe-date. Kurosaki hasn't responded to his questioning text, either.
Ten minutes in, Uryuu finds a corner to stand in and gather his thoughts. So far, it isn't looking good. At this point he is wondering if inviting him to the party was a prank. Get the solitary nerd to endure an overwhelming social experience for a laugh later. He doesn't know Kurosaki well enough to rule it out. He doesn't know Kurosaki well at all.
About a year ago, Uryuu walked into his organic chemistry lab and promptly dropped the textbook, calculator, and stack of notebooks he was carrying in his arms because his raggedy old messenger bag had ripped halfway through the day. Stooping to pick it up, he was startled when another pair of hands reached out to help. A handsome young man with pensive eyebrows and vibrant hair passed his notebooks back with a casual word of greeting. He smiled when Uryuu stared in awe rather than take the offered items.
That was how they met. The semester that Kurosaki instructed the o-chem lab was his favorite to date. Uryuu never missed a session, nor an opportunity to strike up conversation with the 'cool' grad student. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one in Kurosaki's fan club. When competition with the women of his class became too heated, he gracefully bowed out. Part of him always wondered what may have been, but Uryuu has always been too focused on academics to worry about romance.
Until tonight.
Tonight, he will think of nothing but romance. He will take chances and make overtures. Uryuu will find out for sure one way or another whether he has a chance with Kurosaki, if only so he can finally put this infernal transfixion behind him. That is, if he can ever find the man.
In the meantime, he decides he might as well enjoy the party. Urahara made him promise to dance and try to have fun, so that's exactly what he does. Emerging from the safety of a corner, Uryuu finds a smaller group of students and tentatively starts to move in time with the music. It is unbelievably embarrassing and awkward but he does it anyway because he must. Because this is his one night off from being the dutiful student and the diligent worker. It's his sole chance to live the carefree side of being young and untethered.
It isn't quite what Uryuu expected but he can't say he hates it. The band is talented and the music suits his tastes. No one is pointing and laughing at his sad dancing attempts. He even makes eye contact with a few people. A nearby girl smiles and leans in to trade idle party chatter while they dance. One of her friends comes over to join in and soon Uryuu has a little group welcoming him in. The novelty of it all astounds him. To think it would be this easy to integrate into student culture and share in their experience!
"Ishida?"
Hearing his name called from directly behind him has Uryuu whirling around in surprise. An akimbo elbow knocks the full drink from a loose grip and suddenly his shirt is drenched in some sweet-smelling alcoholic beverage. Kurosaki is already apologizing before the last drop lands.
"No, it's my faul—"
"I'll fix it!"
Kurosaki grabs his hand and tugs him toward the staircase in the next room. The music's insistent volume diminishes as they trundle up the stairs and down the hall to a closed door on the left. He pushes it open, immediately locking it behind them, and leads Uryuu through another door into a small bathroom. Only then does Kurosaki release his hand and turn to face him.
"Should we be in here?" asks Uryuu. "Isn't this someone's bedroom?"
"Yeah, it's my friend, Renji's. He's a member of this fraternity. But he won't mind, I promise." Kurosaki looks him over for a moment and quietly requests, "Take off your shirt?"
Uryuu glances down at the liquid threatening to stain this ridiculously pricey garment and swallows. What kind of horrible employee would he be to ruin his thoughtful boss' gift the same day he received it? Hands rise to the first button even as blood rises to tint his cheeks because he isn't wearing an undershirt and he really wasn't expecting to strip in front of Kurosaki tonight. Seeming to perceive Uryuu's discomfort, he focuses his attention on filling the sink with warm water.
"What was in the drink?" he asks as he hands over the shirt. "Depending on the ingredients, washing it may be a lost cause."
"It was just vodka and ginger ale. Should come right out."
Offering a vague hum of agreement, he self-consciously folds his arms over his bare chest and watches Kurosaki gently scrub the fabric with plain hand soap. Then Uryuu notices he is also being observed via the mirror. Their eyes meet across the glass. Kurosaki breaks contact and clears his throat. It's up to Uryuu to fill the awkward silence, then.
"Have you been here long? I searched but couldn't find you."
"I got here about an hour ago," Kurosaki slowly admits. He shuts off the water and leaves the shirt to soak in the sink, straightening to regard Uryuu. "I was…hiding, I guess."
"Hiding?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Avoiding Uryuu's direct gaze, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Then he huffs a self-deprecating laugh and says, "I was nervous. I thought alcohol might help but it just made my thoughts even more jumbled."
"What were you so nervous about?"
Surprised, Kurosaki finally looks up. "About seeing you. What else?"
The confession takes Uryuu aback. In his wildest dreams, he could never imagine someone like Kurosaki being nervous over him for any reason. Uryuu is the nervous one here! His cynical side wonders if this is a joke at his expense, but the reality is Kurosaki has been nothing but forthright with him since they met. Even now, he is bashfully eyeing Uryuu and awaiting his reaction.
In the end, all he can do is fight a giddy smile and ask, "Really?"
"Yes, really," Kurosaki smiles back. "If you knew how long I've been wanting to ask you out…"
"So, why didn't you?"
"Because I'm an idiot, apparently. And because you're always so busy."
That sucks the levity right out of Uryuu. Reminded of his stringent daily life, he has to wonder what he thinks he's doing here. Even if Kurosaki is serious about him, Ryuuken would never allow it. Uryuu can't have friends, much less a boyfriend. Just for the hell of it, he imagines what it would be like to keep a clandestine lover while Kurosaki rinses and wrings out his shirt. It might be fun at first but eventually his father would find out. Uryuu can't recall the last time he successfully kept a secret from the meddlesome man. It would result in a huge fight and Ryuuken would ensure that he never saw Kurosaki again.
Uryuu is roused from maudlin musings to see the object of his daydreams rummaging in the cabinets under the counter.
"What are you looking for?"
"There has to be a hair dryer around here somewhere. As long as Renji's 'glorious mane' is, I know he has one. Aha! Found it."
He drapes the shirt over the shower curtain rod and starts blasting it with hot air. By the time the breeze circulates to Uryuu, it feels quite cool. Gooseflesh erupts across his exposed arms and he absently rubs his hands to warm the skin. Kurosaki notices and switches off the dryer.
"Are you cold? Here, take my shirt. Drying yours might take a while."
"Ah, no, that's not…"
But he is already pulling it over his head and passing it to Uryuu, who very carefully refrains from ogling him. Too much, anyway. He is only human, after all, and Kurosaki is abnormally well-built. Uryuu pulls the t-shirt on and has to admit he is definitely warmer for it. He catches himself inhaling deeper than necessary just to enjoy Kurosaki's scent lingering in the fabric, mixed with a hint of cologne.
"I would say we could borrow one of Renji's, but his standards of hygiene aren't exactly commendable."
"This is fine," he says in a small voice. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
The heartfelt phrase is punctuated by a resurgence of the dryer's low-pitched whine. A couple of minutes pass and Uryuu is finding it very challenging not to furtively appreciate the way his muscles ripple impressively at every subtle movement. Then the dryer goes dead without warning. Kurosaki switches it off and on a few times but it refuses to revive.
"I think you triggered the safety mechanism," Uryuu helpfully informs. "It engages to prevent damage from overheating. It should work again in a few minutes."
"Used one of these before, have you?"
"On occasion. Plus, I might be the only person in existence lame enough to read warning labels and product instructions."
Ditching the faulty blow-dryer, he replies, "'Lame' isn't the word I'd use. More like…nerdy."
"Nerdy?"
Because he doesn't know how to take that and the bathroom is becoming oddly claustrophobic, Uryuu walks into the bedroom and sits on the end of the bed. Kurosaki follows him.
"In a good way!" Sinking beside Uryuu, he insists, "I like that about you."
Well, he would have to, considering how much of Uryuu's personality revolves around studying and fringe hobbies. He knows something about Kurosaki that most of his fan club doesn't: he is also a giant nerd. They had once shared an entire conversation about practical applications of calorimetry that had nothing to do with lab, for goodness' sake!
"I like that about you, too."
The smile is back. Kurosaki leans forward and daringly declares, "I like a lot of things about you, Ishida."
Did he just receive his first confession? Uryuu's face flames in a ferocious blush. He tries to turn away but Kurosaki touches a guiding hand to his jaw. The other hand comes up to brush Uryuu's hair back. Kurosaki gives him a nice, long pause to object before inching closer. Uryuu is the one to close that final distance between their mouths. Of course, it doesn't stop with a simple kiss. One leads to two leads to…
Several minutes later, Kurosaki withdraws to let out a breathless little laugh. Uryuu panics a bit.
"What's so funny? Am I doing it wrong?"
"No, not at all! Actually, I was just thinking…kissing you is better than I could've imagined. I really regret not asking you out sooner."
Uryuu melts, falling into Kurosaki's open arms. They hit the bed sideways and taste everything they won't yet say on each other's teasing tongues. Hours gradually pass as they take turns talking, laughing, kissing. All the things they wish they'd been doing for the past year. Kurosaki tells him about the times he loitered in places he knew Uryuu would be just for a chance to run into him. Uryuu divulges the truth of times he'd gone to Kurosaki's office hours when he had already mastered the latest coursework. They feel rather silly and content about the whole ordeal, grins growing too wide for even the quickest kisses.
An alarm proclaims that it's a quarter to twelve. Uryuu scrabbles at his pocket to silence the infernal thing. Kurosaki asks an obvious question but he's too busy dashing into the bathroom for his abandoned shirt to answer him.
"I have to go."
"What? Why?"
That is a discussion for another time. Rather than go into how stupid and constrained his life really is, Uryuu steals one last kiss and solemnly says, "Goodbye, Kurosaki."
"Ishida, wait!"
But he is already out the door and rushing down the stairs.
Urahara's sedan is thrown into park alongside the curb at exactly midnight. Uryuu switches off the ignition and leaps out of the vehicle. No sooner does he push the car door gingerly closed than the front door opens and his boss walks out. Ducking down, he peers over the trunk to spot his father hovering in the archway. Urahara calls out a jovial farewell as he rounds the hood to reach the driver's side. Ryuuken's response is in the form of the door clicking shut.
"Such a charmer, as always," he comments to Uryuu. "Did you have a nice night?"
Without hesitation, "Best night of my life."
"Happy to hear it! You'd better hurry, though: I believe he intends to check in on you before bed."
"You're probably right. Thank you, Urahara-san!" He starts to run across the lawn but halts to add, "The shirt you lent me is on the passenger seat. Sorry if it's stained."
Uryuu flees before his boss' confused expression evolves into a mortifying question. He climbs the tree in record time, stealthily shimmying in through his open window. The desk chair squeaks a pitiful protest when he wearily drops into it. A book, notepad, and pencil he staged earlier serve as a ready alibi. The frantic tide of his breath calms just as a curt tap at his door announces Ryuuken's imminent entry. Uryuu swivels to face him as though nothing at all could possibly be amiss. And indeed it isn't because his father glances over him briefly, then pivots to leave as hastily as he had arrived.
His head meets the desk in a wash of pure gratitude and relief. He actually got away with it!
He didn't get away with it.
At breakfast this morning, Ryuuken casually mentioned that he was grounded for sneaking out last night. When coolly asked what gave him away, his father cordially cited the wrinkled band t-shirt that was too large for him. The one he'd forgotten to return to its owner and subsequently fell asleep in, though he hadn't been wearing it at the time of its implication. There had also been a small leaf stuck in his hair.
So, Uryuu is officially under house arrest, locked in his bedroom since shortly after dinner, under the edict that he study until his eyes bleed. Still, he can't say it wasn't worth it. He is parked at his desk absentmindedly twirling a pen in one hand with his chin resting in the other as he daydreams about last night for the hundredth time today. If he concentrates very hard, he can almost feel the firm press of Kurosaki's hands, hear the maddening purr of his voice, smell the clean masculinity of his skin, and taste the sultry slide of his lips.
Worth it. Oh, so worth it.
A hushed tap at his window has Uryuu dropping the pen in fright. Twisting around to inspect the disturbance, he gasps at the sight of none other than the sole subject of his fantasies. He rises from the chair, wondering if one can summon another by the power of desire alone, and hurries over to open the window.
"Kurosaki? What—how did you—?"
"You left your phone in Renji's room," he announces without preamble, handing it over as proof. "Thought you might need it."
"Oh…Thanks."
"No problem."
Realizing that the man is literally balancing on a tree limb as they speak, Uryuu steps aside and invites, "Would you like to come in?"
"Pardon the intrusion."
Once Kurosaki is safely on more solid footing, he has to know, "How did you find me?"
"I asked around campus," is the logical answer, of course. But since Uryuu doesn't have friends, he suspects there was a great deal more to it than that. As though reading his thoughts, Kurosaki adopts a wry smirk. "Okay, so it took a while but I figured it out eventually."
"Not that I'm ungrateful, but don't you think it could've waited until we were both on campus tomorrow?"
"Caught me. The real reason I tracked you down is because I didn't like the way you said goodbye. It sounded too…permanent. Like you thought it might really be the last time we saw each other. And that scared me."
Cringing because his assessment isn't far off, Uryuu turns to take a few steps away. It was just supposed to be a single night's indiscretion. His only chance to have a glimpse of his brightest dreams. He had no way of knowing things would happen as they did, that they would connect so deeply. Now he has to hate himself for subjecting Kurosaki to a piece of his own personal nightmare. It takes everything in him to vocalize what needs to be said.
"I made a mistake. We shouldn't have—"
"Bullshit," he snaps, pulling Uryuu around to force eye contact. "You can't pretend you regret any part of last night."
He squeezes his eyes shut rather than endure the pain in Kurosaki's. "I'm sorry."
"Don't tell me you're sorry, Ishida. Tell me what's wrong."
Uryuu cracks, spilling his guts in all their messy, pathetic glory. He tells Kurosaki all about how controlling and authoritarian his father can be. The pressures of work and school that he is constantly crushed beneath. They have ground him down so far that there is hardly anything left of him at all. Uryuu even hints at the smothering loneliness he has felt over the years. Worst of all is the guilt he suffers thinking he should be trying harder, should be stronger than this, should be able to tolerate whatever is thrown his way and more. How he often feels weak and worthless because of it.
By the time he winds down, perilously close to sobbing like a child, Kurosaki draws him into a fierce hug and just holds him. He kisses the edge of Uryuu's face and the side of his neck, whatever he can reach without putting the faintest sliver of distance between them.
"I'm here."
Such a simple sentiment is whispered into his ear. It means everything to him. Uryuu releases a breath he has been holding for such a very long time and relaxes in the blissful sphere of Kurosaki's sanctuary. It is so warm and wonderful there that he can almost believe this person was made just for him, the perfect balm to his abraded soul. When Uryuu needs to kiss him, there is no resistance. Kurosaki's fingers clench into his clothes as he makes a sound low in his throat like something sacred is breaking apart inside him.
Yet, the longer the kiss lasts, the hotter it burns until Uryuu can barely breathe. A terrible hunger builds, faster than he can control. Soon the meld of their mouths isn't enough. He has to feel Kurosaki, just Kurosaki all around him or he won't survive to see tomorrow. Although it hurts like ripping off his own arm, Uryuu drags himself away to spare a single word.
"Please?"
Kurosaki's eyes flare as a powerful shiver overtakes him. "Yes."
He can't possibly know exactly what he is agreeing to when Uryuu isn't even sure what he's asking, but there is not a hint of doubt in his answer. The next kiss is laced with desperation. Their clothes are shed like shackles, granting an illusion of liberation as they climb atop the bed in a stifling haze of urgency. The gentlest push and Kurosaki is on his back, both begging and promising with his stare. Uryuu kisses a line up his throat and pauses to whisper in his ear.
"Are you sure you're okay with this? My father won't be happy if he finds out."
Guiding him in for another kiss, Kurosaki interrupts it a moment later to reply, "Why do you think I came in through your window?"
That decides it.
Wherever they touch, Uryuu's skin ignites. His fingertips trail boldly south, grazing Kurosaki's erection and winning a soft groan of encouragement. His tongue engages Uryuu's as hands draw him closer. The heat building between them is sweltering but not oppressive. He eagerly creates more of it with the aid of sliding friction and Kurosaki's tenuous restraint crumbles. Abruptly rolling them over, he wedges between Uryuu's thighs and thrusts firmly against him.
"Ichigo!" he breaks the kiss to call out.
The given name came unbidden but he doesn't have time to be embarrassed about it when Kurosaki is already moaning his in return. His hips find a rhythm that Uryuu's strive to match. He wraps arms around Kurosaki's neck and legs around his waist, absolutely unwilling to allow the slightest sliver of space between them. The meld of their mouths becomes intermittent by necessity, quick breaths adding soft meter to the chorus of their stifled groans.
As pleasure rises, Uryuu's concern for being caught falls. In this moment, he doesn't dare spare a single thought for his stern father. All he can think about, all he can sense is Kurosaki filling his mind with yearning and bliss in equal measure. His body starts to tense in preparation for a pressing plunge. Uryuu isn't the only one. He gasps to feel a hot splash of fluid against his belly as Kurosaki does his very best not to shout alongside his climax, fists clenching into the sheets at either side of Uryuu's shoulders.
Although Kurosaki is already faintly trembling from potent aftereffects of the rush, he reaches between them to get Uryuu there, too. It doesn't take much. He gazes into the sated gleam of Kurosaki's dark eyes and shudders hard as the tight grip wrings a fierce orgasm from him. The unprecedented magnitude startles him silent where a wavering cry might have echoed through the whole house. Just when Uryuu regains his breath, Kurosaki's kiss threatens to steal it away again. He withdraws to regard Uryuu with an awed cast to his features.
"Why the hell didn't I ask you out sooner?" Kurosaki bemoans with such perfect melodrama that Uryuu smiles.
"Because I'm so busy," he dolefully reminds.
"Oh, right."
Loosening his limbs so Kurosaki can move to lie beside him, Uryuu turns to face the man and shyly bites his lip. His voice is lowered not for the sake of caution but uncertainty.
"If…if you're serious about this, I could try to adjust my schedule. Maybe take fewer hours at work and drop one of my classes next semester?"
"I'm serious, Uryuu," he hastily asserts. "So, you better block off lots of time to spend with me. Like, whole days if possible, because I'm crazy about you." Wincing at the strong words as soon as they are spoken, Kurosaki mutters, "Damn. I told myself I wasn't going to mention that until the third date."
"Don't worry, it's mutual."
The slow spread of Kurosaki's delighted grin is more than enough reward for his courageous candor.
He wakes to the familiar squeak of his door's unoiled hinges.
Uryuu opens his eyes to see his father looming in the gaping doorway. Ryuuken's face is alight with burgeoning rage. Probably because Kurosaki is sleeping soundly beside him. They are both still naked beneath the blanket, though they had at least taken a scrap of time to clean up before passing out in each other's arms last night. Sitting upright, Uryuu makes the first move in their usual game of verbal Chess.
"This is Kurosaki Ichigo, my new boyfriend."
And Ryuuken just glowers, not a speck of surprise flitting across his features because while his son never told him outright, it should have been obvious to someone as analytical as Uryuu's father. Not to mention the only poster he had ever bothered pinning to his bedroom wall as a teenager was an action shot of Mifune Toshiro from the classic film Yojimbo. He'd had a thing for samurai back then. Maybe he still does.
Kurosaki stirs at the sound of his name and takes note of his bed partner's tension. He yawns and asks, "What's wrong, Uryuu?"
The sound of his son's name used so casually deepens Ryuuken's scowl. In contrast, Uryuu coldly smiles as he braces for the rant.
"How dare you bring someone into this house without my permission?" As the lecture is launched, Kurosaki stiffens in shock and scrambles upright beside Uryuu to notice the third person in the room. "I did not raise you to be so reckless and rude! I won't tolerate this beha—"
"What's the big deal, so he let me stay the night? I'm not gonna steal anything!"
Taking two steps further inside, Ryuuken addresses the 'intruder' just as harshly as his son. "Your mere presence is intolerable! Do you think I haven't figured out what you two have done under my roof? I refuse to forgive such flagrant dishonor!"
"You want to talk about honor?" scathingly counters Kurosaki, "How about the way you treat your own flesh-and-blood? Do you think pushing Uryuu until he cracks under the pressure of outrageous expectations is 'honorable'? He is already trying so hard! Can't you see he's been suffering? You should be ashamed of yourself!"
"How I treat my son is none of your business!"
"Yeah? From here on out I'm making it my business. He's a grown man and I'm not letting you order him around anymore!"
"Watch yourself," Ryuuken hisses.
"What are you gonna do about it? Kick him out? Then he can stay with me."
"I appreciate your intentions," Uryuu weakly dissents, "But something like that is—"
Turning to lock eyes, Kurosaki sincerely proclaims, "I meant what I said last night: I'm completely head-over-heels. If you ever need a place to stay, don't even hesitate. My apartment is big enough for two. Pack a bag and I'll take care of the rest."
Both Ishida men fall silent at that. Emboldened by the back-up plan, Uryuu aims a rebellious stare at his father. Check.
"You…" Gradually, the fury dulls to disdain. Ryuuken glances between the two of them and snaps, "Do as you will, but not in this house."
The door slams shut behind him and Uryuu can only stare at the space his father just vacated. Did he win? He looks to Kurosaki, smiling in shared victory, and shakes his head in disbelief. Unless he is dreaming, Ryuuken effectively sanctioned their relationship with almost no emotional fallout. Uryuu has no clue how to express the depth of gratitude he harbors for basically fixing his entire life over the course of twenty-four hours.
"Ichigo…that was amazing. I've never seen him so flustered. How can I thank you?"
His grin isn't nearly as lecherous as Uryuu expects. "Well, I liked it when you called me 'boyfriend' earlier. I wouldn't hate hearing it again."
He flushes lightly even as he complies with Kurosaki's modest request, and earns a kiss for his trouble.
THE END
