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"Shhh!" Renji whispered, but he couldn't help laughing at the same time. Each time he rolled his hips while lightly nipping on Ichigo's shoulder or neck, the boy would moan and thrash as though he was possessed. It was exhilarating, and not to mention arousing, to see Ichigo like this, but seriously, even without the creaking sound from the bed, they were going to rouse the entire Sixth division if Ichigo didn't shut up.
Of course, one easy solution would be to stop doing this to Ichigo, but Renji couldn't bring himself to stop. He wanted nothing more than to pleasure Ichigo, and it looked like the teen was having the time of his life. In the months they were together Renji had never seen Ichigo react this way during their lovemaking.
"Fast...f-faster," Ichigo stuttered, raising his hips to meet Renji's thrusts.
The redhead let out an involuntary groan at the command. How could he refuse?
Ikkaku followed the sounds. They were different now, distinctly human, unlike the earlier cry that sounded more like an animal in pain.
He stumbled a bit, tripping over pebbles that littered the ground that led off the street. He knew he was walking towards the division quarters now, so the noises were probably coming from someone's room. Had he been slightly more sober, he would've been quicker to guess what it was, but blurry-eyed and dazed as he was, he just kept going.
He soon narrowed down the source. Slowly and as steady as he could given his state, he crept up and flattened his body against the wall. As he stood there, he suddenly got a strong sense of déjà vu—he had been there before, he was almost certain of it. But when?
Before he could delve deeper into his memory, he heard a sound that he recognized: a laugh. And not just any laugh—Ikkaku recognized his red-haired friend's voice at once. He remembered now why he felt that the place was familiar—he had been to Renji's quarters plenty of times, it's just that none of them had been during the night, and he had never approached it from this direction.
He heard low murmurs coming from the room, and against his best judgement, he peeked into the window. And his heart stopped.
There was no mistaking the tattoos of on the broad shoulders and strong back of the man who looked as though he was doing push-ups. Except, of course Renji wasn't doing push-ups. There was a figure—slimmer, paler—moving beneath the redhead, and the sounds—moans of pleasure, Ikkaku knew what they were now—were tumbling from the lips of that figure. Who was he kidding...he knew who it was. Who else had such a bright orange head of hair?
Ikkaku wanted so badly to tear his eyes away from the scene, but he couldn't. His body simply refused to move, and so he watched on numbly as his friend thrust into the younger man over and over again, the muscles in his back and biceps flexing, his body radiating raw power.
Another murmur caught his ears, and then Renji suddenly groaned and began to move faster. The cries from Ichigo became hoarse, louder, and more urgent. Ikkaku felt his face flush as he found himself breathing harder as his friends' moans filled his ears—a good portion of his drunkenness had left him thanks to the shock of this discovery.
And then there was a strangled cry from the boy, followed by a deep growl, and both men stopped moving. Ikkaku couldn't see much clearer than that, but there was no doubt what that meant, and the realization of the fact made him feel even more awkward. Worse of all, he also realized that his face was not the only body part that was hot and bothered.
He heard more low murmurs, then Renji lay down on the floor. For a few minutes he continued to stand there, probably even after his two friends had fallen asleep. Then, with a shudder, Ikkaku woke up from his trance-like state and stumbled away from the building. After a handful of wrong turns and dead ends, he finally found the main gates of the Sixth division and half-walked, half-jogged back to his own quarters.
There would be no sleep for Madarame Ikkaku that night.
"You alright, Ikkaku?" Yumichika looked at his best friend with a concerned frown.
The bald man had been unusually quiet the entire morning. Instead of grumbling about how boring it was to have nobody to spar with, Ikkaku had simply sat in a chair across from Yumichika in the office—Yumichika could count the number of times Ikkaku spent more than two consecutive hours in the place—and stared at the wall.
"Hello?" Yumichika said again, trying to get his friend's attention.
Ikkaku turned to Yumichika with a start, as though he never realized that his friend had been there the entire time. "What?"
"Bad hangover?" Yumichika asked, standing up to make tea. "I'll get you some tea, you'll feel better."
Ikkaku nodded in acknowledgement, then continued to stare blankly at the wall. Inside, though, his mind was a jumbled mess—confusion, curiousity, shock, disbelief, embarrassment—he didn't even know where to begin to process them all. He sighed; he knew he needed to vent, and there's no one else better for this than his best friend.
"Thanks." Ikkaku accepted the steaming cup gratefully. The grassy aroma from the tea calmed him somewhat, and he managed to pull himself together enough to form a proper sentence. "So...where'd you guys go last night?"
Yumichika made a sound that could be interpreted as an indignant grunt. "We went to Renji-kun's quarters."
Ikkaku nearly coughed up his tea. "What—" he sputtered, wiping some of the liquid that dribbled down his chin. "W-what'd you see?"
"Nothing." Yumichika sounded extremely disappointed.
Ikkaku raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Nothing?" he echoed.
Yumichika sat back in his chair and flung his hands in the air in defeat. "Nothing. They chatted, Ichigo-kun read a fucking kido textbook, Renji-kun wrote his report," he said with an annoyed frown. "They didn't even share a bed."
Ikkaku's mouth twitched. That was definitely not true. But, then again, they technically did not share the bed. "Did they...was there a sleeping bag or a futon on the floor?" he asked.
"Yes!" Yumichika said, eyes wide. "How did you know?"
"I, uhh..." Ikkaku rubbed his bald head awkwardly. "I...I saw them."
In a flash, Yumichika was right in front of him, eyes pleading for more information. Hesitantly, Ikkaku related what he had witnessed the previous night.
"But...are you sure you weren't hallucinating?" the dark-haired Fifth seat asked, looking at his friend apprehensively. "You were...quite drunk."
"I'm sure," Ikkaku insisted.
"What are you so sure about?" a deep voice said at the door.
Yumichika jumped to his feet. "Hisagi-kun! Kira-kun! Ikkaku said he saw them in action!" he said excitedly. Quickly, he retold Ikkaku's story to the two other lieutenants.
"Right..." Shuuhei said with a smirk, obviously not buying the story. "You were hardly conscious when we left."
Ikkaku's face reddened in indignation. "I know what I saw," he said fiercely, clenching his fists. "It's fine if you don't believe me."
Sensing the tension in the air, Kira intervened. "It's easy, we can ask them how they slept when we see them later. I'm sure we'll be able to tell something based on their reaction," he suggested. "They're both pretty easy to read."
Yumichika gave Kira a skeptical look, but since nobody else had a better idea, they left it at that.
Ichigo sat in the waiting area and fidgeted. The shinigamis walking up and down the hallway kept casting odd looks at him; obviously they recognized him as the ryoka who saved Kuchiki Rukia, but beyond that, who knew what kind of rumors they had heard about him?
Renji had been in the office for a long time. Neither of them got a lot of sleep last night—it took a long time for Ichigo to calm down after experiencing the most intense orgasm in his life yet, and Renji had been so turned on by it that they kept waking up during the night to tend to his needs. Not that Ichigo didn't want it, of course.
The chair was extremely uncomfortable, Ichigo grumbled in his mind, shifting his weight around. It couldn't be helped—he was just too sore, it was impossible to find a comfortable position on the hard wooden surface.
Just as Ichigo shifted in the seat again, the door flung open, and Kuchiki Byakuya emerged from the room within in full regalia, followed by Renji close behind. A gracefully curved eyebrow lifted at the sight of the orange-haired teen.
"Hey, good to see you, Byakuya," Ichigo said with a casual wave. He snickered when the captain's face darkened slightly at the boy's usage of his given name.
"I'm glad to see that you're not causing damage to Seireitei for a change," Byakuya said cooly. Then he turned and swept out of the building, leaving Renji standing in the doorway with a small stack of paper in his hand.
"Why do you always do that?" Renji complained, smacking Ichigo's head with the stack of paper. "You gotta understand that he's my taicho, okay? You give him a hard time, and he'll give me a hard time."
Ichigo snorted and stood up, happy to be free from the chair. "So can you leave now?"
Renji gave him a pained look. "No, I'm sorry," he said, waving the paper he's holding. "He gave me a bunch of these forms to fill out, but I think I should be able to finish them before he comes back." He gestured for Ichigo to follow him into the office.
"Oh? Where'd he go?" Ichigo asked. He strode over to a chair sitting next to Renji's desk and made himself comfortable.
Renji sighed and sank into his own chair. "Captain's meeting."
Ichigo nodded, then, out of boredom, began to play around with the knick knacks scattered on Renji's desk. It was easy to tell which desk belonged to whom even though he wasn't told—Byakuya's was spotless and neat, while Renji's was covered with uneven stacks of paper, both new and out-dated, along with an array of brushes, brush caps, and crumpled pieces of notes. He reached out to grab an especially colorful ball of paper and gasped when a sharp pain shot up his back.
"What's wrong?" Renji immediately set his brush down and went to Ichigo's side.
"You," Ichigo scowled at the redhead.
Renji looked confused for a moment, then his eyes widened as comprehension dawned. His eyes softened and he rubbed the small of Ichigo's back gently. "I'm sorry," he said, nuzzling the boy's hair. The pleasant scent of freshly-washed hair made him smile, and he reached out to cup Ichigo's cheek with one hand.
Ichigo looked up into the redhead's eyes and blushed slightly at the clear look of hunger in them. He felt more than saw Renji lean in, and he automatically closed his eyes. Renji's lips brushed against his lightly, and Ichigo sighed softly at the comforting warmth. Parting his lips, Ichigo welcomed his lover's tongue and they shared a slow kiss, and for a moment, forgot that they were in the Sixth division office.
By the time they remembered, their kiss had turned into something more urgent—they were both panting, faces flushed pink, their breaths heavy and fast. With trembling fingers, Renji loosened his own obi and untied his hakama himo. The garment, now loose, slid down soundlessly to pool around his ankles. By then, Ichigo had also freed himself from his pants, and without a word, their lips met again, sucking and nipping at each other at a feverish pace.
Renji broke away abruptly and turned around, his back to Ichigo. A current of understanding went through Ichigo, and his hands went to Renji's hips, guiding the man to bend over his desk.
"You ready?" Ichigo leaned down and whispered in his lover's ear.
To be continued...
So what'd you think...who'll find them first? :p
