Title: Chasing Paper Tigers Like Dreams
Rating: M
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A few days later, Orihime stood confused, watching in silence as Ichigo closed the front door behind him.
It was the third morning in a row that he had woken, dressed, gathered his things, and left, sparing the bare minimum of conversation. It wasn't the same as the awkward silence from before. This was different. Ichigo was being elusive. She hadn't seen that side of him in a while.
But the problem was obvious.
She was the only thing in the apartment he could be running away from. Everything else in it belonged to him, except for her few personal possessions.
Orihime reached down to tuck her books into her bag, turning to retrieve her coat before following the same way Ichigo left.
She had worn out her welcome. He was getting tired of her.
It was only natural. She'd been taking up his space for almost three weeks now. Anyone would feel put out to shoulder someone else that long. She'd kept their agreement to focus on schoolwork while testing was going on, but this morning was her final exam. It was time to refocus on finding work. That way she could give him back his space and stop straining their friendship with her silly daydreams.
It hurt, though. Knowing she was making him uncomfortable. Orihime didn't like being a burden or forcing him to take care of her.
She would have to work harder to make sure she didn't inconvenience him.
There had to be something she could do to find a job quickly. Perhaps, she was being too fussy, waiting for a bakery job. She enjoyed it, yes, but at this point, she couldn't afford to sort through her options. Some of her classmates had jobs waitressing. Maybe if she asked around, she could find an opening. Just until a better job came up. And she could do something nice for Kurosaki-kun. A surprise to make up for the trouble she'd put him through.
Orihime twisted her bag strap between her fingers as she took the stairs, thinking.
There weren't many options. She had no money. No special skills besides what came from her hairclips.
She bit her lip.
She really was useless to him, wasn't she? No wonder he didn't want her around— No. What was she thinking? That wasn't true. They were friends. Good ones.
She refused to be a burden. He wouldn't be held back because of her inadequacies.
She would find a job today. It didn't matter what it was. Then she would scrub his apartment until it sparkled... And maybe she could make a special dinner or help him study or take over hollow duties—Err... Or not. He probably wouldn't like her doing that, but a meal, that was a start.
Of course, she cooked dinner almost every night, but what about something different. Normal. She knew some of his favorite dishes and it wouldn't be hard to have it ready by the time he got home from his shift at the clinic.
She smiled as she reached the bottom step of the apartments, smiling at a group of children passing by on their way to school.
Okay, new day... I'm ready.
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Ichigo sat in the library, plowing down text after text before reaching the end of the page, only to realize he had no idea what he'd just read.
He made a disgusted noise and tossed the book away, leaning back in his chair.
They needed to dust the lights. Cobwebs hung like wispy ropes tied from one fixture to the next, and he strung them into patterns and shapes before huffing and turning back to the table. Damn, he was bored. The stretching quiet of the library was starting to grate on his nerves.
All his testing had been finished. Classes were ending. Even work in the clinic was dragging on, nothing more exciting than a cold or broken toe in the past two days. That took about five seconds to diagnose. The paperwork took more time than the treatment. He was half-tempted to tell them to stop whining and go crawl back into bed.
Of course, that would defeat the whole purpose. Without patients, he wasn't pulling a paycheck, and wasn't that how he ended up in this situation in the first place?
He sighed and tapped his fingers into the chair as the closing announcement echoed overhead.
Standing and stuffing his books in his bag, he glanced down at his watch. It was nearing eleven now, with any luck Orihime would be asleep by the time he made it back and he could avoid another problematic encounter. If he wasn't lucky, she'd be waiting up.
Ichigo hit the exit bar and let himself out of the library.
Why was it hollows only seemed interested in attacking when it was inconvenient? He needed the chance to work off this damned annoying frustration. Thought about hitting the gym and dismissed it. Only creepy weirdos went to the gym at such a late hour, and he'd broken enough noses this month.
He sighed, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets.
There was no longer any doubt that he was highly attracted to Inoue. Hell, it was more than simple attraction. But as to when it'd happened, well… he didn't have a clue. Just that she had taken up residence in more than just his apartment and had been there for a long time.
And now that he was acknowledging it, he also had to acknowledge the fact that he didn't know what to do about it. Should he make a move? Should he wait to see how things played out? What if she rejected him? That would kick the awkward factor in their apartment up a few notches.
But if he didn't decide soon, his raging hormones might just do it for him.
He rolled his eyes at the thought.
Like he'd let that happen. He could handle it. Ichigo Kurosaki didn't make decisions with his dick.
But... if he were being honest with himself, he was surprised at how much he'd already thought about it. Which was exactly why he wasn't going to trust himself to be alone with her. As long as he was careful when they were together, Inoue never needed to know. And being around her when she was vulnerable and uncertain about her future... Seemed like a bad idea to him.
Jumping the curb, Ichigo started up the steps, a tickle of anxiety working into his stomach.
There was a weird feeling scratching at his spine.
He frowned, feeling out for his friend's by reflex before focusing on Inoue's presence upstairs. It seemed relaxed and deep if not a bit disturbed. But something about it set his nerves on edge. Made him take the steps a bit faster.
Ichigo tore the key from his pocket and jammed it into the lock.
He opened the door and shut it, glancing around before heading straight down the hall, following her spiritual pressure.
The place was clean, smelled fresh with the faint scent of curry lingering in the air. Had she made him dinner? Damn. He should have told her he wouldn't be home.
He pushed the though aside as he reached her door, and didn't think twice about opening it, just jerked it out of his way and froze.
The light was off, but he was used to being out in the dark, and he took in the moonlit form on the bed with staggering clarity.
Her legs were tangled in the sheets, loose shirt pushed up, flashing bare skin and restless arms as she moved, fighting in her sleep. She shook her head back and forth, her spine bowing away from the bed as her body struggled gently.
A nightmare?
Standing there staring, he wasn't sure who's breathing had gotten heavier, his or hers. It couldn't be right to get so... bothered by this.
But there was something about the tugging caress of her riatsu pulling at his... He couldn't pin down the feeling. Just that his heart rate seemed to be climbing and his skin prickled. But it wasn't until he was reaching down and shaking her awake that it occurred to him what other type of dream might get her so worked up.
Her eyes fluttered open and she panted for air, gasping, not seeming as surprised as he would have thought to see him hovering over her sleeping form.
"K-Kurosaki-kun…"
He pushed back the instant thrill her husky voice caused, dumbfounded, seeing her mouth form the words, hearing the dreamy quality. Not an ounce of alarm.
Did she really trust him that much?
She shouldn't... He wasn't trusting himself very much at the moment.
Or was it him she was dreaming—Don't, baka. Don't even go there.
His mind had to be getting foggy, because it didn't listen. He followed the movement as she licked her lips. Her fingers clinched on the sheets as her thighs pressed and rubbed together, and dear god, he needed to get out of here before he did something stupid.
Like find out if she was as wet as she looked. Pull the almost nonexistent clothes from her body and lay her out beneath him. Feel that soft, receptive, not quite innocent hunger for himself.
Damn it...
"Inoue…" He shook his head, swallowing down the claws stuck in his throat. "You're having a dream."
She blinked, unfazed, then blinked again, looking around the room with more intelligibility.
"I…" She gasped, sitting up and pulling the blankets up, chest rising and falling faster. "Oh... Oh!"
Her eyes widened further, and she squeaked as she looked up at him.
She winced."I-I… Was I being loud?"
Ichigo shook his head, afraid to trust his voice but not seeing an alternative. "No… It was your spirit pressure."
He cleared his throat then deciding to give up, shrugged.
Visions of a partially clad Orihime writhed in his head, tangled in bed sheets, trapped and helpless to anything he wanted to—
Ichigo closed his eyes and turned away, uncomfortable in his tight jeans and thick coat.
Orihime seemed just as distressed, because she continued to fidget, chin tilted into her chest, cheeks dark.
He was just about to tell her goodnight and find a quiet place to beat his head against the wall when she spoke again.
"I found a job today."
Ichigo stopped, unsure he'd heard her right.
"At a little pub off campus, so… you should have your space back soon!"
She smiled up at him, wide, bright. Out of place.
"A pub?"
Orihime hesitated. "Y-yes."
"Isn't that just another word for bar?"
He didn't mean to sound harsh. It just came out that way. And why shouldn't he be pissed? A bar off campus is what she should have said, but she hadn't, because the obvious response to that was no way in hell. Ever.
She frowned. "No… It's a pub. They serve food. That's completely different."
Ichigo grit his teeth.
"I thought you wanted to work in a bakery. Wasn't that one of those dreams of yours or something?"
"How... How did you know that?"
How did he know? He had no idea. What the hell did that matter? She wanted to work in a bar for fuck's sake. Inoue. The most disaster-prone, trouble-prone person he knew. In a bar. With drunk college guys.
Over his dead, fucking body.
"I don't remember. You must have said something about it." He bit the words out, trying to keep them even. "Aren't you missing the point? We're both going to end up failing school, because if you work there, you can bet I'll be there too, waiting to break some drunk bastard's arm."
Orihime flushed again, and he tensed, waiting for whatever the hell she was about to say that would undoubtedly piss him off further.
"Actually… I'm thinking of taking a semester off, just until things get…" She glanced at him. "S-settled."
Ichigo wasn't sure he'd ever actually been angry with her before. He didn't like it. It wasn't the same as the detached, burning fury he felt in battle or the restless indignation when he wanted to kick someone's face through the back of their skull.
This was heavy, suffocating, maddening, and it made him want to pull out his hair.
"So... You're going to drop out of college?"
"It's not—"
"And start working in a bar?"
She wrinkled her nose, frowning. "I didn't say I was dropping out of college."
"You didn't need to."
Inoue slipped from the bed, holding up her hands in a peacemaking gesture and offering a tentative smile, treading water back toward safe ground. "Don't be upset, Kurosaki-kun. This way you can have your space back."
He spoke between his teeth.
"I don't want my space back, Inoue. I want you safe. And protected."
Her smile twisted into a frown. "I will be safe, and you're forgetting that I can protect myse—"
She stumbled forward and latched onto him, and the second her hand touched his arm, all bets were off.
The tiny bit of restraint holding his good judgment together snapped.
Ichigo didn't know he was thinking of kissing her until he was moving. But as her hands clutched at his chest, something like heat lightning flashed through his veins, plunging him headlong into a whirling current of fire.
Maybe she didn't think about it, maybe she had no idea the primal messages it shot straight through his brain, hell, she might've just wanted his attention.
She had it.
His hands tugged her forward as he took the half step necessary to flatten their bodies together.
Inoue gasped, eyes wide and pulse fluttering. Like a bird caught in a snare.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, teeth gritting when her lips parted.
Move forward or pull back?
Kiss her or let her go?
Damn, he was hesitating. He hated that.
The situation could still be salvaged. But she'd know he'd thought about her in a way that had nothing to do with friendship. Might even pity him for it. Damn. There was no way he could stand—
Inoue's fingers curled into his shirt. Blunt nails scraped searing trails across his abdomen, making already straining muscles jump and tighten. Ichigo almost choked, stunned as determination flashed in Inoue's face.
When the hell had she learned to look like that? Feisty and aggressive, and fucking scary and still sexy as—
She stretched up and kissed him. Soft, the barest brushing of skin against skin, but his mind stalled. Electricity skittered along his lips and down his jaw, a jolt of awareness so vivid it bordered pain.
He shook. All the way down to his goddam bones he shook, and from something so small.
What the hell? Why hadn't he kissed her before?
With her warm lips pressed to his and small hands clutching his clothes, it seemed more natural than breathing. Which he wasn't.
His eyes slid shut as he tilted his head down and leaned into it.
He could feel her heartbeat under the hand that moved up to grip her neck. Could feel all of her in the flickering thrill of her riatsu. It was something he hadn't even realized he needed until it was happening. Like stepping into sunlight. And too soon, it was ending. The delicious, addictive tremors retreated as she pulled back.
It's over?
That… That was— Goddamn it.
His grip tightened, stopping her.
It wasn't enough.
One more and he'd stop. He'd let go. Just one more.
He pulled her back and sealed his mouth over hers.
Ichigo almost groaned at the agonizing contact, dragging out the sensation of touching her this way and committing it forever to memory. The feel of her small, soft muscles. The sweet, intoxicating smell of her skin. The subtle whimpers every time he changed the pressure of his mouth. It was like a drug.
All of it dragged him further into the charged chaos clouding his mind.
Ichigo wound his fingers into thick, copper strands, turning her face up to get better access. He took her bottom lip into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth, and almost came undone when she moaned.
Ichigo jerked back, out of breath, but so was she.
And fuck... He still wanted more.
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A/N
Longer chapter! Yay, me! :)
Okay, so why is it that even when I think it's horrible, you're all so supportive?
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Mah~~! I love you all! ^^ And I'm really sorry I can't reply to everyone the way I'd like to, but I'm trying really hard to get this out and polished and published as fast as possible. Please just know that I appreciate each and every single one of you that's taken time to leave encouragement. Thank you!
And omg, I'm really struggling with the next part of this and yes, it's quite a bit longer. And ahhh, just don't expect anything amazing, because I'm pretty sure I've ruined it and that it's awful and no one will liiiiike it... ٩(×̯×)۶