Chapter 20

Pancakes

"Nobody said it was easy"

~.~

Well I'm fucked.

There was no way Ichigo could think otherwise. As soon as the first rays of morning touched his bare skin, he swam through the haziness the sleep state induces and it didn't take him too long to put two and two together to understand why Shirosaki, of all people, was currently snuggling his bare chest while he slept soundly near him.

His first thought was to punch the man near him, but he stopped his arm mid-air. It wouldn't be fair on him, Ichigo thought suddenly remembering that he himself invited the guy to sleep on the same bed as him.

I also swore I would completely behave myself, but look what happened…

Speaking of behaving, Ichigo's mood suddenly darkened, and his expression was now sullen. He briefly remembered just how easy it had been for him to discard any type of worry and give himself to that man. Maybe not wholly, not yet, but as it was his whole resistance act was blown the first night he spent near Shirosaki.

I begged him to take me. What if he actually did? What then?

What if they had gone all the way last night? Could Ichigo still face him next morning? Ichigo knew the answer clearly. No, he couldn't. He couldn't even do it now and his eyes trailed on the relaxed body in front of him.

Shirosaki looked so…peaceful. It was almost disconcerting. Ichigo couldn't exactly say why, but he pondered it had something to do with the fact that he never actually saw the man in such a state. He looked harmless, at peace, and suddenly he was overwhelmed by a strong urge to protect him. To keep him peaceful, to make sure no pain reaches him.

Can he even feel pain?

Ichigo wasn't sure. He thought he couldn't possibly feel such an emotion, but Shirosaki was an enigma to him. He seemed harder to crack than any codes and granted, Ichigo wasn't a mastermind- evil or not. He knew, deep down, that the simplest way to go about it was to ask the man himself, but could he even trust him?

He gave me his word.

He had. But what if he lied? What if he was plotting something still? What if…What if? Ichigo was tired of what ifs. No, he decided, he would trust him until he had proof that he couldn't. And his nature didn't count, whatever that was.

So he watched the early sunrays dance on the pale skin, watched the man's chest rise and fall in a slow, steady rhythm and mentally cursed himself for not being able to restrain himself last night. He had given in so easily; Shirosaki hadn't even needed to persuade him into it, if you overlook the little show he put up. After Ichigo started it. Right. There was no way around it. He desired Shirosaki, hell knew why, but he desired him with such intensity it almost felt normal to Ichigo to give in.

I haven't even kissed someone properly, yet I took him in my mouth so eagerly. I didn't even feel embarrassed displaying myself to him or when I boldly shoved him underneath me. It felt so…natural.

And Ichigo was alarmed by his early morning revelation. He hadn't minded in the least when he acted so sinfully, he thought, last night. Oh, in fact he'd rather enjoyed it, if he could recall correctly. And just thinking about it made his morning wood come to live even stronger, poking Shirosaki in the stomach.

Ichigo stilled, his brown eyes fixed on the silhouette near him. Never mind last night, he could have as well been drugged for all he knew, but right now he really didn't want to act upon his desires. It was hard enough to take in what he had done, he didn't need to add salt to the injury and repeat his actions in the morning. A very bright morning as well.

As to why that matter, well Ichigo finally felt ashamed when lustful thoughts snaked in his brain, demanding, wanting certain things Ichigo wasn't sure he could give or do without feeling guilty. Yes, Shirosaki was stunning. There was no point denying that anymore; he really couldn't. But there was no way in hell he'd repeat last night ever again.

It was a mistake. A terrible mistake. A terribly pleasurable and liberating mistake…

Um, he was not getting anywhere near safety with those thoughts. He needed to stop that instant, but then another thought popped into his mind and suddenly he wasn't sure about anything anymore. Because staring at Shirosaki's peaceful, sleeping form he realized it wasn't the first time he had seen this. Oh, quite the contrary, he had seen it numerous times and if that didn't make the young man panic, no one can tell what did.

Not only have I seen him sleeping, but I have molested him in his sleep!

He blushed an incredulous set of shades of red, his heart racing madly in his chest and he really wished he could get up, get out of the room and most importantly get away from Shirosaki as fast as he could manage. But in that exact moment, as if the little devil sensed it somehow, Shirosaki pulled Ichigo closer in something one would consider an iron grip and he couldn't get away even if he tried.

Now, he was royally screwed.

Shirosaki was fast asleep, there was no doubt about that, and whatever he was dreaming about was pleasant because he smiled creepily- mainly because a lot of drool was involved- as he, more or less, cuddled Ichigo. Ichigo hated that word, but wrapped his arms around the sleeping man and rested his chin on the soft, yet spiky white hair.

He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon so he might as well rest. With that, he fell in a peaceful sleep and wasn't up for a good while.

When he did wake up, it was already noon and the sun shining brightly over the busy town of Karakura. His household, or more precisely his father's, was peaceful for a change; no yelling came from down the stairs, no crashing in his room, no perverted ex-soul rippers randomly popping in his room via window.

Speaking of perverted ex-soul rippers, Ichigo ought to pay the man a visit soon. Before he decides to visit Ichigo and then he would have a lot of explaining to do about many things. Like, for example, who was the pale dude that looked like Ichigo and why, of all things, were they cuddling naked or, even worse, having sex? Ichigo knew for a fact that Urahara had the worst timing ever and was slightly surprised the man hadn't run into them last night.

Maybe God does exist…

Shirosaki was nowhere in the near vicinity, his spot on the bed almost cold, indicating that Shirosaki must have been up for a while. That made Ichigo wonder…just what was Shirosaki up to anyway? Shrugging it off, he decided he would deal with it later and he yawned loudly as he stretched his body. He was going to take a relaxing shower and then deal with whatever disaster the albino had caused in the meanwhile.

Fifteen minutes later and a lot of struggle to get his clothes on his half-wet body, Ichigo was finally ready for the day. Or at least, he tried being ready. Nothing could prepare him for the sight he was met with downstairs which featured Shirosaki covered in flour, an awful smell and plates everywhere.

Yes, that's right. Shirosaki had been cooking of all things.

Ichigo couldn't pick up his jaw from the floor for the next few moments. When he did, however, he burst into a healthy, heartfelt laugh. Shirosaki's eyes widened comically, clearly not expecting the ginger head to…laugh.

"Oh my God!" he said between pants and laughs. "You...holy shit!"

Clearly, it took him a while to calm down and while Shirosaki had been surprised at first, now he was sporting an unamused expression while he tried to rid himself of the flour. That earned him even more laughter, so he simply turned his back at him and proceeded into making his pancakes. He'd be damned if he didn't succeed.

He'll show Ichigo…!

"Yeah, yeah, ya stay there 'n' laugh yer pretty ass off. I'll show ya!" he announced as he kept mixing eggs and flour.

At that, Ichigo's laugh came to a halt. He raised an eyebrow and made a few steps towards the angry man. "Oh?" Shirosaki turned his head and glared at him.

"Back off, this is my job, capische?"

Ichigo indeed backed off, hands raised. "Oi, no need to get all defensive. I was just…wait a minute, did you just call my ass pretty?!"

His back was at Ichigo, but he knew Shirosaki grinned. "Oh, maybe. ~ What're ya gonna do about that, huh?" He said in a teasing, suggestive tone, making Ichigo click his tongue in annoyance.

"Pervert."

Oh, that made Shirosaki's grin grow wider and after unceremoniously dropping his mixture in the pan, he turned and looked at Ichigo, dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, as I recall, ya quite liked this pervert yesterday…" his words trailed off smoothly. "Not that I'm complainin'. I had a good time." He made sure to purr the last two words and watched Ichigo go from panicked owl to panicked and ashamed owl.

"Wh-what…! No, uh, that was, uh…" Right. His brain wasn't exactly ready for this. Shirosaki watched amused as the teen tried his best to regain his composure and come back with a strong comeback, but it became clear to the both of them that it wasn't going to happen anytime too soon.

Shirosaki shushed him. "As I said, I didn't mind. 'n' I most certainly wouldn't mind if it, let's say miraculously 'n' completely accidently, happened, yanno, again." Shirosaki was a tease alright and he was taking pride in that exact quirk of his.

Ichigo saw red. Who was he to say such things to him?! Shirosaki, of course, knew that it would infuriate the living lights out of Ichigo, which was partly why he said it in the first place. "You mother fuckin…!"

"Nah, I'd really just fuck ya. Women are scary, scary creatures 'n' I happen to like havin' my head attached to my neck, thank ya very much. Now, if ye'll excuse me," he interrupted in a merry tone, as the turned to tend to his attempt to making pancakes, completely ignoring the murdering glares Ichigo was throwing him as he sat down at the table, for lacking better things to do.

He hated when Shirosaki behaved like this. Like, yes, he knew he did make a mistake the night before, but that didn't mean that Shirosaki had to tease him forever about it. On another note, Shirosaki thought it was a great opportunity to tease the ever so pure and virginal teen about last night's occurrences. Although, in spite of everything, he really was glad Ichigo finally let his guard down, even if it was just for a while. It gave Shirosaki hope, which is why he had been trying to make his King pancakes this morning before the other burst in the kitchen and started laughing at him.

Well, he supposed it was alright. At least he made Ichigo laugh…

Groaning, he flipped the pancake over; he was turning into a downright sap. Horrible.

"What are you doing anyway? I mean, besides annoying the shit out of me and making a mess?" Ichigo teased a dismissive tone. Leave it to Ichigo to make everything sound so full of anger. Jesus, he needed to teach Ichigo some manners, Shirosaki thought.

"Why of course, cookin', what does it look like?" he replied and dumped the pancake on a plate before pouring more of the mixture in the pan.

Ichigo's brows furrowed. "But why?"

At that, Shirosaki grinned. "Why not? I thought ya enjoyed them, so I thought I could give it a try," he explained nonchalantly.

Brown eyes widened in surprise. "H-how did you know?" Shirosaki flipped the pancake over in one go and turned to look at him.

"Oh, I happen to know quite a few things about ya, ya know, me livin' in yo' soul and all that."

Hm, well that made sense. I mean, we kind of share the same body. He would probably know a me a little, I suppose. But that left him with another, even more puzzling question.

"Ok, but why?"

Shirosaki's face was suddenly blank. He had not expected that question. He raised his eyebrows trying to come up with the best answer, because, honestly, he himself hadn't the faintest clue what actually drove him to cook pancakes. "I guess I just wanted to, uh, make somethin' for ya…" his words left his mouth before he could stop them and as soon as he realized what he had said, his eyes became the size of saucers and he turned to look at the slightly burning pancake.

Shit, shit, shit, shit… I didn't mean to say that.

Obviously. He hadn't meant to say that and Ichigo came to understand that too quite quickly as well. Which could mean a lot of things, now the shinigami was thinking, so he decided to let it drop…at least for a while. He'd have to ask Shirosaki at some point, but he wasn't ready himself to hear any answers to any of his questions.

Shirosaki was mentally punching himself, because yes, he might care for Ichigo, but no, he sure as hell was not ready to let the other know. Not yet. Maybe never. Like he said, he really liked having his head attached to his neck and wasn't ready to risk it so soon.

"Well," Shirosaki said as he walked away from the cook, "the pancakes are ready. Enjoy!" he said as he placed a plateful in front of Ichigo, accompanied by various jams and spreadable chocolate as well. He was on his way to Ichigo's room when he felt a hand firmly grip his wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks. White brows furrowed. "What?"

Ichigo was sporting a frown of his own. "You eat as well."

Shirosaki, once again, looked surprised. "But I made them f-…"

"For me, yes I know, yadda, yadda, yadda. Now sit down and eat with me. I can't eat them all by myself anyway. Do you plan to make me get diabetes and die? Because that's a lousy plan, even for you," he said jokingly and sat back down to his stop when he saw that Shirosaki made no attempt to refuse him.

They ate in silence since neither of them could think of anything worthy to say to the other one. Ichigo felt a bit uneasy sharing a plate with Shirosaki, who looked as if he was having the time of his life, munching and wolfing down the pancakes as if he never ate them before and had suddenly discovered the meaning of life.

"Hey, have you ever eaten pancakes before?" he enquired after a while, not being able to take in the silence anymore. It was one thing to have the guy threaten you ten ways to Sunday every time he saw you and completely another thing to peacefully have pancakes together.

Shirosaki's gaze shot up at the slightly curios teen. "Oh? No, not really. Why?"

Ichigo frowned. "What do you mean 'not really'? You either had some or not. There's no in between." Was Shirosaki playing with his mind? Because he most certainly did not appreciate it very much.

At that, Shirosaki put down his pancake and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smudging chocolate on his cheek. "Well, I have seen yer memories of it, but I never tasted them myself until now. I don't need to eat 'n' there ain't no food in Mashiro," Shirosaki said with half of his mouth full.

Without thinking, Ichigo reached for his cheek with his thumb and wiped away the chocolate and then licked his thumb. It took him 0.248 seconds to understand what the devil he had done, but by then it was already too late and he slowly put his hand down, shooting it the nastiest glare he could at the time and then returned to look at a very puzzled Shirosaki.

Shirosaki grinned bestially, because he wasn't that clueless about certain things, and he was about to say something when Ichigo, sensing the words that were about to come out of his mouth, interrupted him with a fake cough. Way to go, Ichigo. Smooth as sandpaper.

"You can see my memories?! Pervert!" He was half freaked out, half intrigued and he didn't even know which one was worse.

"Why, of course, I said we live in the same body," Shirosaki explained slowly. "Doncha get it? I know everythin' about ya. Every embarrassin' little secret, every single thing that ever bothered ya, every desire ya ever had. Everything."

Ichigo dropped his pancake on the plate, eyes widened. "R-Really?"

Shirosaki rolled his eyes. "Yes, ya doofus."

Ichigo frowned. "Wait a minute, if you know everything about me, then how come I know close to nothing about you?"

At that Shirosaki pursed his lips in a thin line. "Because ya don't wanna." Ichigo's frown deepened. "Because ya refuse to. It doesn't really matter that ya decided to not cut my head when ya see me, that's not how this thing works."

"Then how?"

Shirosaki sighed; Ichigo was so dense sometimes. "Ya have to let me in. Ya have to trust me. Don't ya get it? Ya hafta truly want to get to know me 'n' ya ain't there yet. Probably never will be. Can't blame ya, I'm nothing really compared to, let's say Rukia, or, or Orihime!" He wailed. He didn't mean to talk about it and as soon as he understood what he had said, he wanted to punch himself.

Shit. I was not supposed to say that at all… Now he'll think I'm a wuss.

Ichigo was rendered speechless. There was no way in hell he had just heard those words, that tone of voice. Was he, Shirosaki of all people, harbouring feelings of hatred towards himself? How the hell was that even possible?! Shirosaki was the most confident, smug, annoying prick that Ichigo had ever met and now he suddenly sounded as if he was about to self-flagellate.

"Shirosaki…"

"Drop it," he interrupted in a firm voice and stood up.

"I'll be damned if I drop this!" he raised his voice unintentionally, but Shirosaki did not stop and proceeded to leave the room. "Listen to me!" he said as he was following Shirosaki, who by the way, wasn't sure if he wanted to punch the wall, himself or cry. Or all of them combined.

"Why?"

Ichigo sighed exasperated. He didn't think he'd start of the day like this. "Because I have something to say I am pretty damn sure you want to hear, now stop running away and listen to me, damn it. We said we'd trust each other. I am really trying here, you know, but how am I supposed to do it if you keep running away every time? I told you this before."

Shirosaki stopped dead in his tracks and sat of the sofa. "Alright." His jaws were clenched.

Ichigo sat near him. "Shirosaki, you matter." He never thought he'd say these words in his life, but there he was saying them. "I know I am not the best and that I am an ass, ok. Rukia and Orihime are my friends. Rukia helped me save my family in spite of all the laws she was breaking by lending me her powers. Orihime sacrifices herself way too often for my good, hell knows why. And you always help me take down my enemies even if I don't call for you, again hell knows why." He took in a deep breath; he had no idea where he was going with this, but he knew he was sincere at least.

Shirosaki turned his attention to the floor. Indeed, that pattern looked really exciting and intriguing. He shall study it further.

"Look what I am trying to say is that you haven't been the easiest person to let my guard around with all the I'm gonna beat ya 'n' use yer body to murder the world stuff you've been saying to me pretty much since forever," he imitated his tone trying to lighten up the mood, but without succeeding too much. "But I understand that you've changed your, um, intentions and want us to collaborate so now I am doing my best to make it happen, but you have to help me too, you know. I can't find out much about you if you clam up as soon as things get serious."

"I understand." He did not rise his gaze from the floor.

Ichigo sighed. "Look at me," he said softly. Albeit reluctant, Shirosaki slowly looked up and was met with concerned brown eyes. "I want to trust you, ok? We'll get there. But we need time and you need to stop running away from me."

Suddenly, Shirosaki felt as if he was a tiny boy who couldn't stop being afraid of the dark. That didn't make much sense to him since he was perfectly fine with the dark, but he soon realized this is how Ichigo felt long ago, as a kid. He let a small smile curve his lips.

"Aye."

Ichigo chuckled. Shirosaki was so cute! "Good, idiot. Now let's get changed, we're going out," he announced triumphantly as he stood up, firmly trying not to think about his earlier thoughts.

Shirosaki…cute? How does that even go in a sentence?!

To be continued…