AN: As far as the adult content in this story, there is a deliberate gradient-theme going on. So, it's going to get worse before it gets better (or vice versa, depending on your preference) but then it goes back to PG-13/T for a while.

III

When he finds Ishida, he is wrists-deep in a pile of yarn and stuffing. Inoue greets him as he walks into the room. She's not used to Ichigo showing up to the Handicrafts club, so her first response is to pull him to a quieter corner away from their classmates and ask if everything is all right. Ishida ignores them both and continues sifting through his cluster of colorful string. A halo of female classmates hovers nearby—but not too close—to watch him work. Some watch with obvious adoration, yet too shy to ever try broaching his chilly demeanor. The thought that Ishida has no clue he is the object of such regard makes Ichigo smile.

"I just came to see if Ishida wanted to walk home with me," he distractedly tells her, waving away her concern. "He hasn't answered any of my texts since this weekend."

"You two text?" Inoue asks with an air of surprised befuddlement. "You two walk home together? Kurosaki-kun, has something changed between you?"

"Yeah, we uh…" Recalling one of Ishida's guidelines for whatever this thing is that they're doing, Ichigo hesitates. "I mean we sort of…"

"What Kurosaki means to say is that he and I have decided to pool our resources and start studying together for university exams. That's all."

They look over to see Ishida approaching them. He is holding a brand new creation that didn't exist when they had started this conversation. It's a tricolored knit hat with a neat row of red buttons in the shape of an English letter I that also doubles as a Roman numeral one on the short brim. Ichigo immediately likes it.

"Oh, that's so cute, Ishida-kun!"

Wordlessly, he hands the item to Ichigo, who accepts it with raised eyebrows. "What is this for?"

"Your head, usually, though if you find more creative uses for it I won't be surprised."

"I think what Kurosaki-kun is asking about is why you're giving it to him," Inoue helpfully adds. Ichigo nods to emphasize her statement. "It's not his birthday yet, is it? Oh, I didn't get Kurosaki-kun anything!"

"Don't worry, Inoue, it's not my birthday." Turning to look at Ishida, he explains, "I'm pretty sure the only things you've ever given me are death glares…"

"If you don't want it, I'll be happy to give it to someone else."

"That's not what I mean, Ishida," he sighs, hating how bad he always is at expressing himself. "Look, forget it. I didn't come here to talk in circles; I just wanted to know if you'd like to walk home with me after your club."

"I suppose," Ishida sniffs, tilting his chin up with a haughty air. "But you can't stay here for the next half hour and distract everyone. Please find some other way to occupy yourself until then."

With that, Ishida dismisses them both and walks back to his desk heaped with supplies and surrounded by fangirls. Ichigo mentally shrugs at this treatment. He can't say he isn't used to Ishida's colder side, since it's all he ever really shows people. Looking down at the soft, stylish hat in his hands, Ichigo wonders if he's just always been bad at seeing the warmer side. Speaking of warm, he pulls the hat on and isn't surprised to feel that it fits perfectly. Ishida has recently had the chance to run his hands all over Ichigo's head, after all.

Thirty minutes of goofing off with Keigo and Mizuiro later, he walks back to the classroom to find Ishida packing up along with everyone else. Rather than acknowledge his return, Ishida sweeps from the room, leaving Ichigo to follow or not as he sees fit. He falls into step with him in the hall but neither of them speaks along the route until Ishida's apartment building comes into view.

Ichigo wants to ask a dozen questions but he's not sure where to start or what will piss Ishida off. They haven't done anything beyond having lunch at school since they agreed to sort of begin dating. If that's what you could call it when two guys declare they find each other attractive, kind of like each other, and want to eventually do something about it. He's not even sure what's going to happen once they reach Ishida's place. It's about a fifty-fifty chance Ishida will slam the door in his face without a word.

"If you're expecting me to feed you again, I might have to murder you."

"What?" he can't help blurting, yanked so suddenly from his thoughts.

"You even offered to treat me, though I ended up paying for the meal."

"Oh, right…because I took so long in the shower."

It takes an embarrassing amount of concentration to avoid blushing at that memory. Before he had even read Ishida's notebook and discovered his own inclinations were anything but one-sided, Ichigo had been overwhelmed by a simple study session in his apartment.

It's true that the main reason he asked Ishida to help him study last week is because he has been desperately falling behind in his studies after that whole business with Soul Society and the collective Quincy throwing fits at each other, and having to help intervene yet again. But another reason is Ichigo decided he wasn't going to wait around for Ishida to warm up to him anymore, since that obviously was never going to work. No, he planned to confess to Ishida that night after treating him to dinner and having a normal hang-out situation. Preferably involving laughter and deep conversation.

None of that had worked out the way he wanted, though, and Ichigo wound up getting dangerously wound up in Ishida's shower because there is something devastatingly erotic about a flustered, confused, annoyed Ishida who is being kind of nice for a change. So, to say that Ichigo is apprehensive about what may or may not happen now is a massive understatement. All he knows is he's not going to run away from this anymore.

"Speaking of showers, I should take one," Ishida mumbles more to himself as he digs out his keys. "I didn't have time after phys ed."

"Y-yeah, then you should probably do that." Heart making a fuss at the imagery his mind provides, Ichigo follows him inside and sheds his outerwear. "I'll wait."

"Don't touch anything until I get back. Actually, don't touch anything at all."

"Does this mean I can stay for a while?"

"How were your scores on this week's quizzes?" he asks with an inquisitive arch to one brow. Ichigo answers in the form of a half-shrug. "Then we should probably study until you've memorized the new chapters."

"You're going to help me again?"

"What choice do I have, Kurosaki? If you fail it means remedial classes, which means you'll be too busy to hunt Hollow, which means I'll have to pick up your slack again—" Ishida cuts himself off with a guilty wince as he realizes he's referencing a painful time for Ichigo. That year and a half he spent feeling useless and resentful.

"You're probably right," he shrugs it off. "I'll read over my books while you're in the bathroom."

Ishida watches him a few seconds longer than necessary before nodding once and padding down his short hallway. Ichigo hears the water start up as he pulls out a couple of texts to peruse. Actually, he aced his quizzes and an exam thanks to Ishida's merciless tutoring techniques, but Ishida doesn't need to know that. Especially if it means he'll keep teaching Ichigo.

He is halfway through the second chapter by the time Ishida shuffles back into the living room, casually-clothed and damp-haired. Something minty and soothing radiates from his water-warmed skin as he comes to sit beside Ichigo. He can't help subtly leaning closer for a deeper whiff. Ishida catches him.

"Are you sniffing me, Kurosaki?"

"Maybe."

"Stop it."

"Make me."

Giving him a look that clearly expresses disdain at this childishness, Ishida lets it go and grabs a book to start lecturing him. It might sound stupid, but Ichigo has no real idea how to flirt, so he defaults to mild teasing. Testing the waters with harmless banter never hurt anyone, right? Plus, he just really likes the way Ishida smells.

An hour and a half of instruction is his limit. After that Ichigo calls another delivery restaurant to order enough food to more than make up for last time. This time he actually pays for it and Ishida has nothing to complain about. While they eat, he racks his brain for something clever to say. Although he's never been good at that sort of thing.

"I think we should call it a night," Ishida lowers his chopsticks to coolly suggest. "You look like you're thinking hard enough to catch your hair on fire."

"Hey, Ishida?"

"What is it?"

"You know when I asked you to 'teach me', I wasn't just talking about schoolwork, right?"

Silence follows this question. Ishida stares at him with a blank expression, unreadable, and Ichigo stares back with forced courage. In his mind he is already wondering if he should've kept his mouth shut. Chilly blue eyes appraise him and Ichigo resists the urge to swallow audibly.

"I inferred as much, yes," he finally breaks the tension and looks away to set his food on the table. "What's your point?"

"My—well, my point is I was hop—I was wondering if we could maybe learn a little about a different subject. If you want."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Um," he falters, running a hand through his choppy hair and making it choppier. This is more difficult than it really should be. "I don't know…kissing, I guess?"

"You want me to teach you how to kiss," Ishida asks in the tone of a statement.

Fidgeting now, he nods and glares across the room at nothing in particular. As much of a nerd as Ishida is, you'd think this would be more embarrassing for him! So why is Ichigo the one internally writhing here? Because he knows Ishida is much more well-versed in this subject than your average teenager, if his stories are anything to go by. Of course he feels silly about it.

That's when Ichigo sees it: a tiny smirk playing at the edge of his mouth.

"Are you messing with me, you bastard!?"

"As if you wouldn't do the same," he guiltlessly admits. "Besides, it's not every day that the Kurosaki Ichigo asks for advice."

"Shut up," Ichigo nearly pouts. "If you don't want to then just say that, jerk."

"I would, if that's how I felt."

"Oh." Seeing Ishida shift closer to him, Ichigo straightens his back and tries not to adopt a deer-in-headlights expression. "Um…"

"Quiet, Kurosaki. Your comments are unnecessary from this point forward," Ishida softly orders. He would be annoyed if it wasn't said in such a sultry timbre. As it is, Ichigo is glad to have a reason not to start stuttering like an idiot. "A kiss is simple once you understand the mechanics of it. Alignment is important: you don't want to knock noses or teeth, but you shouldn't have to think too hard about it, either. Relax your face."

"Okay."

"Your shoulders, too."

"Fine."

"Now tilt your head a bit to one side. Yes, that's good. I'm going to lean in and when you feel my mouth on yours don't pucker. It's a more subtle motion than that. Pay attention to what I do."

"Got it."

Yet, the instant he feels Ishida's mouth on his, brain cells refuse to function. It is a careful graze of lips, then a firmer press. Ishida's plump lower lip dips in between and slightly off-center. There is a simultaneous push and pull, incremental shift causing light friction. Minimal moisture. Ishida retreats only far enough to come back in for more of the same entrancing series.

Ichigo does his best to focus and not get swept up in the lightning storm brewing inside him. He really does. When one of Ishida's hands comes up to rest against Ichigo's cheek and hold him still, his composure slips. It starts to seem less like a lesson and more like an act of desire. More natural and less intentional. A few seconds later, Ichigo is blinking in confusion because Ishida is pushing him away with forceful hands.

"What—?"

"You asked me to teach you how to kiss, Kurosaki. That doesn't mean you get to paw at me like a curious monkey."

"I wasn't…" Thinking more clearly now, he groans at himself. He did just have his hands all over Ishida without even consciously wanting to do so. "Oh. Sorry."

Ishida's eyes widen at the sight of his remorse. He looks away and lightly frowns.

"The old you would've made some dumb excuse and blamed it on me for seducing you or something absurd like that," he mutters. "I don't know how to deal with you like this. What happened to you in Soul Society?"

It's a rhetorical question. In spite of their usual poor communication, Ichigo had made it a point to talk with Ishida about everything after they all got back. Explaining how he finally came in to his true powers and was able to understand himself better than ever before. What he didn't tell Ishida then is the clarity he gained also helped him work out his feelings towards his friends, which is why Ichigo is finally ready to pursue something with him.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't touch you," he offers, leaving the 'but I want to continue this' unspoken.

"It's late," Ishida abruptly says, standing from his sofa. "You should go."

"Wait!" Ichigo grabs his wrist on instinct and Ishida doesn't snatch it back. "Is that really all there is to a kiss? I always thought there'd be more to it."

"You're thinking of a different type of kiss."

"Okay, yeah. Can we practice that kind, too?"

Eyebrows rise. Ishida looks down at him with a turbulent collection of emotions and Ichigo can tell he's debating. He releases Ishida's arm and shows his best innocent expression. Relief bursts when Ishida sits back down and Ichigo doesn't attempt to hide his giddy smile.

"Fine. But the next time you come over, bring some green tea ice cream or I won't let you in," he instructs while he slips off his glasses and tucks his fringe behind an ear. Ichigo starts to comment on the fact that he's already being invited back to Ishida's apartment but he gets cut off. "Whatever you do, don't bite me. Don't flop your tongue around like a miniature walrus, and don't forget to breathe."

Ichigo is nodding a little too vigorously, so Ishida has to steady his head with both hands. At first, he follows the same formula as before, a simple meeting of lips. Then he parts them and Ichigo feels the warm-wet drag across the seam. Heat floods his face and rushes to his stomach at the unusual sensation. Hands clenched over his knees, Ichigo opens his mouth and jolts at the feeling of their tongues meeting.

It's strange. Strangely pleasant. Pleasantly confusing. Ishida goes slowly enough to follow, letting him get used to the novelty of it before gradually getting fancier with his movements. Keeping his advice in mind, Ichigo juggles breathing with emulating the sensual glide as best he can. Another tier of difficulty is the way his mind keeps fuzzing over, making rational thought into an endeavor. Not to mention the tickle of Ishida's fingertips in his hair.

His hands are shaking, eager to reach for Ishida. Brush the softness of his hair, trace the lines of his sides. Settle at the bend of hips and push his thumbs under his shirt to rub against the points bracketing his lower belly. Ichigo doesn't quite stifle a small moan at these thoughts. The sound seems to startle Ishida, who chooses that moment to break the kiss. It's a little messy and Ichigo's lips feel kind of raw, but he doesn't mind one bit. He licks them, analyzing the taste.

Wiping his own mouth on the back of his hand, Ishida regards him with a crease in his brow. His face is tinted with the same flush Ichigo feels burning in his cheeks. Breathing heavier, eyes hazy. It makes Ichigo want to push him to the cushions and—suddenly one of Ishida's stories comes to mind. The one where they're both so aroused that they can't even wait to strip. They grind against each other, kissing and biting until the friction between their pants becomes an unbearable heat and—

"Kurosaki!"

"Huh?"

Snapping back to reality, he blinks at Ishida, who is watching him apprehensively.

"Stop thinking what you're thinking about."

"How do you know what I'm thinking?"

"It's obvious," Ishida snaps, blushing brighter as he becomes more irritated, "With that perverted look on your face."

"So, you can write all sorts of perverted things about me but I can't think them while I'm kissing you?"

"Yes! I mean, no, that's not…"

"It's your own fault for seducing me, Ishida," he snickers, enjoying Ishida becoming the flustered one at last.

"I'm not the one who said 'let's practice kissing'!"

"But you didn't say 'no', either."

"You," Ishida growls and makes the mistake of leaning closer to glare properly without his glasses. "You arrogant, devious—Mmph!"

Ichigo can't stand it anymore. He's not about to admit that an embarrassed, angry Ishida is sexy as hell, but neither is he strong enough to ignore the influence of this secret. The taste of his lips is just as addictive the third time around, and Ichigo indulgently pushes his fingers into sleek black strands. Ishida hesitates for few seconds, making him wonder if he has overstepped, but the pause soon ends as he decides to give in.

Showing Ishida what he has learned, Ichigo is assertive in the kiss. Not necessarily seeking to dominate so much as to prove he was paying very close attention. Ishida weakly tries to pull away but Ichigo follows him. With one hand tangled in his hair and the other anchoring a shoulder to the back of the couch, he communicates without words. He tells Ishida that he wants this, that he has wanted this for a long time. Tells him that this isn't just physical or impulsive.

Ishida's hands clench in Ichigo's shirt as he makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat. It triggers something in the primitive part of Ichigo's brain that has him groaning into the kiss. Ishida jerks out of it with a quick gasp that becomes a startled moan when Ichigo immediately transfers his attention to Ishida's neck instead.

"Kurosaki, you've gone rogue," he breathlessly chastises. "Get a hold of yourself."

"I'd rather get a hold of you," Ichigo murmurs between one sucking kiss and another. He feels Ishida shiver at this comment.

Unfortunately, Ichigo's enthusiasm has him taking it a little too far. His grip on Ishida's hair is traded for one on his thigh, which must set off some pretty strong alarm bells because the next words out of his mouth are serious.

"Kurosaki, stop."

Ichigo stops, retracting his hands and pulling away from Ishida's throat. While he doesn't entirely understand Ishida's hesitation, he respects him enough to heed his requests. Ishida doesn't look angry so much as mildly shaken. He's eyeing Ichigo with a combination of surprise, uncertainty, and lust. It's the last part that keeps him from apologizing profusely.

"Sorry if I…came on too strong. I didn't mean to attack you." Remaining silent, Ishida faintly shakes his head and gazes towards the floor. "Are—are you okay? I didn't hurt you or anything?"

"No, of course not, Kurosaki. I'm fine. Stop worrying so much."

"Then don't look so traumatized," he huffs, withdrawing.

"I'm not traumatized. Melodrama isn't appreciated." Sighing, Ishida looks at him with resigned sincerity. "This is odd for me. Experiencing this with you instead of imagining it…they're completely different things. The intensity alone is unreasonable. It's almost like I keep expecting to wake up."

"You dream about me?" At his annoyed glare, Ichigo smirks. "I dream about you, too, Ishida. And I get that it's weird since we've never talked about this before. Until last week we both thought the other was probably disinterested, right?"

"True."

"Yeah. So it's fine with me if you need to take it slow." On a whim, Ichigo sets a hand over Ishida's, curling loose fingers around it. "I don't want to rush you."

Staring at their hands like he can't make sense of the gesture, Ishida asks, "Who are you?"

"I'd like to be your boyfriend, if you'll let me."