Chapter ten: On non-public displays of affection, the best part of making up, and communication that is not speaking.
Note: This chapter has been edited to comply with ffnet's policies on explicit content. The full version can be found at herdedcats dot livejournal dotcom (or just click on the link to my homepage in my bio.)
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Rukia had gone mad.
It was the only adequate explanation for her current circumstances. The stress of her recent injury, along with the extra paperwork that had built up over even a day's absence, and the fact that she'd spent much of the day debating what to say to Ichigo, had combined to cause hallucinations. That, or he really had stormed into her office looking blotchy and agitated and practically molested her.
Madness was also the only understandable reason why she'd stopped him. "Wait," she said softly, reaching out to touch his back. "Ichigo."
The fabric of his uniform was smooth against her hand. She imagined she could feel his heartbeat beneath it. It was a long moment before he turned around.
She leaned her head against his chest, letting her hair fall in front of her face. "You're hopeless idiot," she said. "You don't just grab a person like that! It's rude!"
"Rukia…" His hands rested lightly on her back, as if he thought she'd twist away if he held too tight.
"I didn't say you could talk," she said. She looked up and her breath caught. He was so close. He had a tiny smudge of ink beside his nose, she noted absently. "You should have better manners than that after all this time."
"Never bothered with em." A ghost of a smile turned his lips and he drew her closer.
"Idiot. You're so stupid." Something between a scoff and a laugh emerged from her throat and then her arms were around his neck and they were kissing, really kissing this time. She could feel his skin and taste his mouth when his tongue slipped past her lips and she couldn't let go, wouldn't, because if she stopped then this might not be real.
Ichigo made a noise in the back of his throat. She'd forgotten he did that. She'd forgotten how much it made her want to devour him.
It had been over forty years. How had she made it forty days?
"Mmm. Rukia." Ichigo attempted to speak between kisses, but she didn't give a damn about words just now. Forty years. How stupid had they both been? "Rukia, hold on…"
"Shut up," she muttered, and bit him on the chin. "I said no talking."
"Damn," he breathed, and kissed her again. Lips and tongues and teeth all got involved and there was no gentleness to this one, none, but she didn't care.
"Rukia…" Ichigo lifted her onto her toes to whisper in her ear. "Where's Ukitake?"
She jumped back, startled; for a moment, Ichigo still held his arms out in a parody of an embrace. She licked her lips nervously and he dropped them, eyes locked on her. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't think about him after—well."
She glanced over her shoulder at the door that connected their offices. Nothing. If he'd heard them, Captain Ukitake had chosen to be discreet. "I know."
"Should I, uh, come back later?"
She opened her mouth to say yes. Come back later and they could talk. Give them both time to calm down. "No."
Ichigo's face dropped. "Oh. Okay. I'll just…" He waved his hand in a vague gesture, but she caught it in hers.
"Don't come back later," she said. "Come now."
-
Ichigo had gone mad.
The thought kept running through his mind as he and Rukia walked quickly through the halls of her division. The two of them rushing to her quarters so they could be alone, her presence just touching his side—he still half-expected that all this would turn out to be a fantasy or a fever dream. Only iron control and other peoplse walking through said halls kept him from touching her; she'd kill him for getting grabby in public. But if this was madness, it was the best kind and it was everything he'd wanted and way more than he'd expected—
—and did he even remember how to do it? Stupid question. It had to be something you never forgot. Like riding a bike, really, and damn he didn't need to be thinking about riding until they were properly alone, which needed to be really soon. He just hoped his riding skills hadn't rusted.
"Where the fuck do you live?" he hissed under his breath.
"You don't know?" She glanced sideways at him.
"No! You never showed me!"
"An oversight on my part, clearly. Here." He nearly went right past her as she rounded a corner and stopped dead. "Here."
If he'd been in a normal state of mind, Ichigo might have been embarrassed at the way he practically fell on her the moment they entered her quarters. Rukia didn't seem to mind, though, reaching out blindly to slam the door shut before wrapping her arms around his neck.
This was more like it. Ichigo would've sighed happily if his mouth wasn't plastered to Rukia's. The room was dark and quiet aside from them, all indications of passing time gone, and he wasn't sure if they spent a minute or an hour like that. Just getting to touch her again like this was almost a form of release—but not quite, not yet, and he really wanted to get to that.
With great reluctance, he reached behind his neck to pull her hands away. Rukia made a noise of annoyance and he pulled away far enough to get his hands between them.
"Ichigo…"
"Shut up." He leaned in to kiss her below her jaw, moving his mouth down as he pulled her robes open to give him access to her skin. "Let me." He dropped to his knees and began working at the knot of her sash.
For once, she listened to him and let him work, though she didn't stop touching. He frowned in concentration as he picked at the knot—it'd figure she had tied it tightly and perfectly.
Rukia's fingers traced his face as he worked, ghosting over his eyebrows, his cheeks. A thumb trailed over his mouth and he paused to bite it gently, pulling the tip into his mouth to suck on it before continuing. Finally, finally, the knot came free. He looked up as he pulled her robes open, exposing her chest. She smiled above him before shrugging them off her shoulders to let them fall around her waist.
-
Rukia would have giggled if she didn't think it would spoil the moment. Ichigo was trying very hard to make this good, she was sure, but he was also staring at her breasts like he hadn't seen any in a very long time.
Well, perhaps he hadn't. Still, if they were in a different set of circumstances, she might have teased him to wipe up his drool. As it was, she was more eager for him to stop looking and start doing.
"Stand up already," she told him, and he quickly complied. Whatever awe her unclothed chest had inspired, it didn't impede his actions. A tiny thrill twisted inside her as Ichigo leaned over to nibble at her shoulder, then paused when she moved her arms.
"What are you doing?"
"Multi-tasking," she murmured, and set to work on the knots of his sash. He wasn't the only one desperate to get rid of clothing. He also wasn't the only one who needed to see and touch bared skin. She traced the scars on Ichigo's chest with her fingers, following with her tongue. Ichigo let out a strangled groan and, before she could react, bent to scoop her up in his arms, pressing her against the wall.
"You're such a bitch," he mumbled into her neck between bites.
Rukia chose to answer by socking him in the arm and wrapping her legs around his waist. It wasn't that his arms weren't strong enough to support her—this was just more fun. "Ichigo," she panted. "Take off your pants."
"Hmmm?"
"I can't do it for you, moron! Just—" She squeezed her legs around him once. "Just hurry up and do it!"
He couldn't have dropped her to her feet and yanked the ties of his hakama free any faster if he'd used flash steps. Not one to waste time given to her, she did the same, kicking her hakama aside as it hit the floor. Ichigo stepped to embrace her once more, this time with nothing between them. "Rukia…" His eyes were shining.
"Shhh." She kissed him softly as he lifted her in his arms again. "Don't say anything."
-
When Ichigo came back to reality, he was collapsed on top of her, both of them breathing heavily. She stroked his back, and neither of them spoke for several minutes.
"Ichigo," she muttered at last. "You're crushing me."
He bit back a caustic comment and rolled them over so that she was on top, her head resting against his chest. "Better?"
"Yes," she said, breath tickling his skin. "Much."
They lay together in silence. Ichigo would have been content to stay like that forever if one thing wasn't bothering him. "Rukia?"
"Mmm?" She already sounded half asleep.
"Well…"
"Spit it out, Ichigo."
"Why did we wait so long?" There was a long pause. "Rukia?"
"Since when did you start feeling chatty after sex?" she grumbled.
"Hey, if I'm interrupting your beauty sleep—"
She cut him off by placing her hand over his mouth. "You're not," she said quietly, and swiped her thumb across the skin beside his nose.
"What was that?"
"Oh," she said, "just a bit of ink."
"What?" He touched his face. "This whole time? And you just now told me?"
"I was distracted." She was smiling, so instead of teasing her or starting an argument, he wrapped his arms tighter around her and ran his fingers up and down the skin of her back. He couldn't seem to stop touching her.
"Ichigo?" Her voice was soft in the quiet room, as if she weren't even certain she wanted him to hear her.
"Yeah?"
She sat up on an elbow to face him better, though he refused to relinquish his hold on her waist. Her eyes looked serious. "What do we do now?"
He hesitated. He wasn't certain what kind of answer he could give—or what she expected. He settled for pulling her closer and kissing her.
"That's not an answer," she pointed out when their lips parted.
"Now who's chatty?" Before she could answer, he rolled them over so he was pressing her down onto the futon. "We'll figure this out, Rukia, but can we just—can we enjoy the moment first?" He leaned down to kiss her neck. "We've got a lot of years to make up for."
She ran a hand through his hair. "I suppose…that is acceptable."
"Good." He grinned against her skin and proceeded to make sure they had no need for words.
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Next chapter: "I think there's no damn reason for me to be here."