a/n: this is just a small exercise that i'm using to work through my shit, haha. please ignore any typos that you may find. i typed this on my phone and autocorrect has always been very dedicated to being mean to me. hope you enjoy!
tenderness.
—
Ichigo was a cuddler.
His bedroom was unbearably hot the night Rukia made this discovery. Such heat was the direct result of the thick summer air and lovemaking—their first time. Perspiration sprouted from both of their foreheads, their bodies were sticky, and the distinct scent of a heady musk permeated the room in a way that seemed to make them even hotter. Sliding the window open offered them no reprieve because the air out there was just as humid and devoid of any breezes as the air of his bedroom. Yet he still sought her touch. He stretched his warm and sweaty hand out to lace his warm and sweaty fingers with her warm and sweaty fingers, right before drawing her into a warm and sweaty embrace. This surprised her, to say the least. He didn't seem like much of a cuddler, not with that deeply set scowl and the permanent knot that lived between his brows.
Rukia would never admit this out loud, but this man's official dwelling place was her mind. He routinely ran through it. He hijacked her trains of thought with daydreams, questions, hopes for the future, and memories. She liked to think of him and about him. One theme she frequently mulled over was his possible approach to physical intimacy, a subject which created even more thoughts that filled her brain to the brim and kept her mildly sated until she finally experienced him for herself. She couldn't help it. Not only did she have feelings for him that he fully reciprocated, they were both also undeniably attracted to each other. Because of this, she imagined the Ichigo in bed to be the same as the Ichigo she liked and was attracted to: passionate, talkative, generous, and non-cuddly.
She got three out of four right.
Before sleeping in his bed that first night, she imagined him to be a man who preferred to sleep as far from his partner as comfortably possible. But the second she attempted to put some space between their bodies in an effort to cool down, he grabbed her by the waist and drew her right back to his sweaty body. He took her face into a hand to give her a series of kisses that were entirely too sweet to be coming from Kurosaki Ichigo, yet sweet enough to be gifted to her. Kisses to her cheek and forehead, to her neck and collarbone, and to the curve of her nose and lips. All she could do was fist her fingers in his hair and hiss his name as her eyes fluttered shut. He responded with a low and appreciative groan.
This sweetness that he presented to her was clearly a distinct sweetness that he had reserved just for her—sweet like honey and sweet like fresh air, both at the same time. He never acted like this with her before. She had never even heard teasing stories from his father or his sisters about him displaying anything remotely close to this kind of softness. Yet he had been so attentive to her that first night—almost too attentive for her personal comfort—that he made multicolored stars dance behind her closed eyelids when he took her bottom lip between his teeth and drew her into a kiss. He kissed her the way they both knew she loved to be kissed: raw and so agonizingly slow that she was forced to part her thighs for relief.
Ichigo placed three kisses onto her lips before pulling away. These kisses were soft, lingering and potent enough to make her toes curl before he placed a chaste parting kiss onto her cheek. She wasn't sure why she did it, but she released her grip on his hair to pass her thumb along the length of his bottom lip and wiped the wetness away. He immediately grabbed her wrist and kissed her thumb. She swallowed hard—what was happening?—and took a moment to watch his lips before looking up to meet his eyes. He watched her as if she was the best thing he had ever known. The vulnerability that filled those chocolatey eyes was the clearest form of transparency that she had ever seen from him, even after all the years they'd known each other.
"I was quite certain that it was obvious just how enamored that boy is of you," her brother told her once.
Enamored. Now, that was a loaded word.
That heady look paired with those kisses were all entirely too much for her buzzing senses to fully accept. But the longer she stared into those eyes as he moved on to kissing the palm of her hand, the less loaded that word became. It became lighter. Prettier. Sweeter; like honey and fresh air, butterflies in the stomach, and soft smiles. That heaviness in his eyes—all for her, and only for her—melted the anxiety away. It made her swallow that bubble down her throat and quickly decide that indulging this strange cuddling tendency of his truly would not be too bad. So she allowed him to place one last kiss onto her hand before spinning in his arms so that he could draw her close enough to press her sweaty back against his sweaty chest. She laced her fingers with his over her stomach, ultimately finding that it was pretty nice to be held by this man.
Her man.
Yet the longer he held her, the more she wanted to escape the embrace of his strong arms and the protection they offered. The moment she was sure that he had fallen asleep, she slipped out of his hold and out of his bed. She picked his shirt up from the floor and pulled it over herself, just to sit at his desk and watch him sleep. This continued for the next couple of nights Rukia slept over. She needed to make sure that he was real—that they were real. She needed to ponder exactly what the two of them meant, especially when he found comfort in something like cuddling with her and she liked him enough to indulge it. The only time she could do this pondering was in the still of the night, as she watched him snore and groan while drool dried up on his cheek. She would sit and think and watch and think some more. Then she would sneak back into his bed and into his arms before he woke up.
Rukia quickly found that she liked to watch him sleep. The moment that realization hit her was the same moment she finally became accustomed to the fact that she had him. She had him. It scared her at first, to know that the most powerful man in all three realms was so enamored with her that he so willingly handed her every bit of his vulnerability. If she were arrogant and mean, she would have bragged to anyone who would listen. She would have told them about how history was riddled with powerful men whose downfall was rooted in the softness of their hearts and the women who held them, and that she, Kuchiki Rukia, now held that very same power in the very palm of her hand because he placed it there. She acknowledged the responsibility and the weight of said responsibility instead, because the fact remained: he was entirely hers, just as much as she was his.
Ichigo soon moved on to being tender outside of the bedroom, just a few months before he asked her to move in and she accepted. Each day made it clearer and clearer that this enamoredness was okay with him, so she forced herself to be okay with it. She ignored the way her stomach turned when he held her close despite the musk and heat. She ignored the way her heart hiccuped whenever he looked at her with those soft eyes. She allowed herself to sleep those warm and sweaty summer nights away in his arms.
But Rukia was wide awake tonight.
She sat at their desk wearing one of his old t-shirts. The cushion of the swivel chair relaxed her nerves as she watched him sleep peacefully in their bed. This had nothing to do with sweat or heat; it was actually a bit chilly tonight. She was just bothered by thoughts, the same thoughts that normally bothered her but were never enough to draw her from the arms of her lover.
It was just that they showered together before bed tonight. It wasn't the first time they had taken a shower together, just the most innocent. The most intimate. Of all the things they had done together, all the years they spent together, all the moments they shared, the fact that this moment was the most intimate shook her. It was ridiculous. He placed lingering kisses onto her shoulders while scrubbing her back. He told her stupid little jokes while shampooing her hair and kissed her forehead each time she laughed. He touched her gently while she rinsed the soap and shampoo off before allowing her to return the favor. Then, as the water ran above their heads, she placed her ear directly over his heart and held him close as he hugged her and told her a story he had learned during his first semester of college about the constellations.
Maybe she was thinking too deep into this. Maybe she was simply making it all a much bigger deal than it needed to be. Maybe she was just being stupid. All she knew for sure was that tonight, she had been forced to come to terms with the fact that it wasn't the weight of having the heart of a powerful man in the palm of her hand that scared her. She had just never experienced such tenderness before. She didn't know she could. She didn't know she was allowed to.
Love was strange and stupid, but Rukia knew that she liked it. The word fell from his lips like loose teeth from a toddlers mouth whenever he was with her. She loved it. She loved him, and it was totally okay for her to love him back. His family approved and so did her older brother and the Kuchiki clan, along with all of their friends. There was nothing wrong with their union or their love. There was nothing scary about it. Everything about being loved by this man and loving this man—her very best friend—was absolutely right, and the realization of that did not scare her. It was all okay.
And that scared her.
"Hey."
Rukia immediately sat up straight at the sound of Ichigo's voice. It was low and rough from sleep, a tone that made her wonder just how long she had been away from him and sitting at that desk. His look of confusion made her face burn with embarrassment as he watched her. This was the first time he had ever caught her.
"Hey," she returned weakly.
"Time is it?"
"Three."
"In the morning?"
"In the morning."
"Damn." He rolled onto his back and released a big yawn as he rubbed his eyes. "What's wrong?"
Rukia pursed her lips, resigning herself to keeping quiet. Silence was better than lying. How could she tell him that she couldn't sleep because she was so bothered by how good he was to her? That she was so caught off guard by how good they were together? That she didn't know what to do with such tenderness and how to receive it?
As if he could sense her turmoil, as he normally could, he looked to her with a comforting smile. "Well, why are you all the way over there? You should be over here with me, keeping me warm."
"We have extra sheets, Ichigo."
"I want you near me, Rukia."
Rukia fought a smile as her face warmed up. "You make me hot."
"Thought you liked the way I made you hot. Thought you liked the way I made you sweat even more."
"You know I always complain."
"And you know that only makes me hold you tighter."
She placed a hand over her face to hide that growing smile. He was attempting to entice her into coming back to bed—back to him—and it was working. He knew the affect he had on her. He wasn't blind to how attracted she was to him, especially since the attraction was infinitely mutual.
"I was thinking," she began.
Ichigo clicked his tongue. He took in a long and sharp breath that sounded like a hiss. "That can't be good."
Rukia dropped her hand to look at him. She scoffed. "I beg your pardon? Why can't my thinking be good? I'm always thinking."
A corner of his mouth turned up to form a half-smile. It was a bit smug and fully reminiscent of that fifteen year old boy she met so long ago. He pushed himself to sit up and the thin sheet fell to bunch at his waist. Her eyes immediately trailed up and down the expanse of his bare torso. It was riddled with scars that she could no longer take the blame for, a view that she could never deny appreciating.
"What are you thinking about at three in the morning?" he asked.
She tore her eyes off of him and looked away with a shake of her head, forcing herself to relax. All she wanted right now was to delight herself with the sight of him. He was such a handsome man, even underneath little to no lighting. Absolutely gorgeous, and all hers. He was incredibly distracting, but now was not the time.
"Rukia," he pleaded. He sounded desperate. She looked to him, finding that he looked even more worried than he sounded. A frown marred his handsome face. "What are you thinking about at three in the morning? Are you okay?"
"I'm..." She released a sigh. It was slow and patient as hesitation racked her entire being. This was her best friend, her very best friend—the best that she had ever had. She hated when he worried for her. "I'm not sure."
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
"No."
His chocolate brown eyes, warm and invasive as ever, watched her suspiciously. He crossed his arms and reclined onto the headboard behind him. "That big brain of yours has the potential to get you into even bigger trouble. You know that, right?"
"Ichigo, don't do that—"
"You're almost too smart for your own good and sometimes, I think that you forget that you can't handle everything on your own."
A snort escaped Rukia. She fell back into the chair and sunk into the cushion, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling. "The irony is laughable."
"I'm not denying that I've done that," he defended himself. His voice grew clearer as all traces of sleep waned. "But I've learned my lesson. I know now that I can't possibly handle everything on my own. That's why I lean on you. I'm only human."
"Barely."
He sucked his teeth. "C'mon, Rukia."
"Well, I, for one, know for sure that I am not human."
"I wouldn't give a damn if you were the number one Espada in Hueco Mundo. You don't have to take care of anything alone. Not anymore. You should know that by now."
Rukia swallowed. He sounded irritated, not that she could blame him. She did know that she didn't have to handle anything alone anymore. She had always known that with him. It was the basis of their entire friendship, him taking care of her like this, and it was now the basis of their relationship. It was what kept them going.
She played with the hem of her shirt. "Ichigo... Ichigo, you can't keep trying to baby me like this."
"Who's babying you?" he retorted. "I'm your boyfriend. It's my job to take care of you."
And there it was.
He did take care of her—such good care. He wasn't as impulsive as the day they first met, no longer incredibly impulsive. He had grown into a man who practiced prudence and discretion daily, though that little streak did remain. She honestly never expected it to go away. He still struggled to take his time with certain things. He still struggled with being deliberate with certain things, but he was incredibly patient with her. He took his time with her and made sure to be more than just deliberate with her, always thinking more than twice about her as he did his best to ensure that she was okay.
It was terrifying.
"You scare me."
"I... scare you?"
Rukia winced. She had not meant to blurt that. This wasn't how she wanted to talk about this. She didn't even want to talk about it in the first place. But he... This man... He always made her do things she needed to do even when she didn't want to. It was absolutely infuriating.
"You don't hurt me," she began in an attempt to placate him. "You just... You're good to me. You're so good to me. It's scary. It feels too good to be true."
"Don't say that."
"You wanted to know what I was thinking about."
"Fine," he grumbled. He hesitated. "Why does this feel too good to be true?"
She clenched her teeth and set her jaw. She was over this. She wanted to end this conversation and just go back to bed so that he could hold her. She wouldn't even complain this time. He was just so good to her, indulging her even when it pained him. What did a brat like her do to deserve—
"It's just that you treat me like a princess," she continued. "And— And you spoil me with your time and attention."
"You don't like being spoiled with my time and attention?"
"No, I do like it. I like it a lot. It's just—" A harsh sigh slipped past her lips. "You're very soft. With me."
"Do you... Do you want me to be hard with you?"
"No, I like that you're soft with me."
"Rukia, you gotta help me understand—"
"You're also very attentive to me—"
"I'm begging you to help me understand what I'm doing wrong—"
"I'm not used to this."
"To what?"
Rukia looked to him. He was still reclining against the headboard with his arms crossed, watching her with rapt interest and attention. She pointed between the two of them. "This."
"Us?" Hurt flashed on his face. It was as quick as his shunpo, too fast for the eyes. But she could read him. She always could. "You're not used to us? Still?"
"Exactly. Wait, no. No. I mean, not at all. I—" She sat up with a sharp sigh. She did her best to ignore the look of confusion on his face. "I'm not used to someone caring so deeply for me. The closest I thought I had to that was Renji, and that confused idiot cut my face up when he showed up with my brother to escort me to prison."
"I've always cared deeply for you, Rukia."
"This is different. That kind of care was strictly on a best friend basis."
His mouth fell open as a pregnant pause filled the air. It made her ears buzz.
"You're not scared of me. You're just scared."
Those words spurred something that Rukia had never experienced, and hoped to never experience ever again: word vomit.
"No, I am not scared. I'm just not used to this. I kept telling myself that it's because you're a weirdo who just wants to cuddle all the time even though strong men aren't supposed to like cuddling, but that wasn't true. It wasn't about you. It's about me. And I'm just not used to this at all. You love me and I love you, and this whole thing is completely nerve wracking, and the realization that this is the one thing that I cannot calmly and rationally adapt to simply because it's all soft and you're so good to me scares the living shit out of me—"
Ichigo was crouching in front of her in a flash. He had her face in his hands, his sudden touch drawing a stuttered gasp from her as he wiped her cheeks with the padding of his thumbs. She was crying? She was crying. She was crying hard. There were sniffles, shuddering shoulders, and tears that were replaced with fresh tears each time he wiped them away. Nothing about his gentle touches helped to stop her heavy gasps or flatten that wrinkle between her brows.
"Hey, hey," he whispered. His voice was soft, sweeter than honey or even the freshest air. "Okay, Rukia. Try to calm down for me, okay? Breathe with me."
Rukia avoided his eyes. She knew that he was doing his best to calm her down because he was afraid to lose her. He would do anything to keep her by his side, everyone who knew them knew that much. He told her everyday how much she meant to him and how grateful he was to call her his. This only spiked her fear because it only cemented how real they were. There was no agenda. There had never been. Not with him.
"This is stupid," she spat. She inhaled shakily, a weak attempt to relax herself. A choked sob escaped instead. Why was she crying? Why was she so weak? And why did this weakness come from feelings? She shook her head. "This is so stupid. I'm not doing this anymore. Let's just go back to bed—"
"No." His thumb moved to massage the middle of her brows to gently chase that knot away. He took her chin between his thumb and the knuckle of his forefinger to direct her to look at him, but she pulled away. He sighed. "You got this far, now let's finish. You have to finish."
"I can't do this."
"Yes, you can. Because I'm not letting you go."
That drew a chuckle from her. A short one. Her nose sniffled; she was sure that it was absolutely red and shiny. "That's very human of you."
"Barely."
A laugh slipped past her lips this time. He resumed wiping and dabbing at her cheeks in the silence so softly, so gently, so carefully. He was so cautious with her. So patient. He always had been in his own way, now that she thought about it.
"Rukia," he breathed. He paused to watch her closely. She could feel it. "Rukia, you're the greatest thing that's ever been mine. I can't let you go. I can't lose you. Not like this."
She swallowed before finally meeting his eyes. Her stomach turned underneath their weight as her fingertips danced on her lap, a clear indication that she was struggling to think of a proper way to express herself.
"I'm not used to this, Ichigo," she said instead. Her voice was quiet and cracked. She sounded broken. It was embarrassing. "I'm not used to any of this."
Another silence weaved its way into the conversation as they watched each other. This silence was more pleasant, decidedly less intense. Maybe it was because he made it clear that he refused to let her do this—whatever this was—alone. He was going to help her.
"You're my first everything."
The sincerity and conviction within his voice gently caressed her ears as his eyes burned brightly with earnest. There was a subtle undertone imbedded deep within that short sentence. It made her stomach turn.
Rukia sniffled. "Y— Yeah?"
A low and easy chuckle rolled out of his mouth. It almost made her smile. It made her want to. He smiled for her, as if he knew. "My first real everything. Everything that I feel with you, I've never felt it with anyone else. I've never felt any of this for anyone else."
"You're my first everything, too." She cringed. Another blurt. How did he do that to her? "It's scary."
"It doesn't have to be," he countered with a light frown. She wanted to kiss it away. He watched her closely, carefully analyzing her face. "You're little, but you are definitely strong. That doesn't mean that you have to carry everything by yourself. It's not just you anymore. It's you and me, and you know that I'll always take care of you. I know you do."
"I do." Why couldn't she stop blurting? She rolled her tongue and shrugged a shoulder with mild discomfort. "I do know that."
Ichigo nodded. He offered her a tiny smile, one filled with encouragement and reassurance. "This was scary for me at first, too."
"Really?" she questioned suspiciously. When he nodded, she pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "I couldn't tell. I still can't tell. You're really good at this. I couldn't even tell you that I loved you until three months after you said it."
"Love is patient, Rukia."
"Love is kind," she completed.
That wasn't a blurt. It was intentional, a line from the Bible. He shared the entire passage with her, claiming that if his writing class was forcing him to read that book, then she would have to join him by default. The section he was forced to read honestly wasn't as bad as he made it seem. It was nice; soft. She didn't care too much for the rest of the book, but that short passage on love always calmed her whenever she thought of it because it made her think of him. He was endlessly patient with her and so kind to her. He was the only thing that came to mind whenever she considered love.
"I'm still learning," he said. "We can learn together. We can do this together, okay?"
"Okay," she acquiesced with a nod. She released a calming breath. "Okay."
Ichigo sighed. He sounded relieved, like he had been holding that breath in the entire time. He shook his head with a somber smile. "It's okay to let yourself be loved."
"I know." A noncommittal sound resounded from her throat. It took everything in her not to look away, but she did her best to return that smile. "I'll try. I'm trying."
The air in their bedroom slowly shifted into something a bit lighter as he watched her. This wasn't the usual type of lightness that she normally felt with him, not the kind that made her think of staying up all night and sleeping in all day with him. This lightness was what she felt when she first realized her feelings for him: the grazing of butterfly wings along the perimeters of her stomach and the nervous hitching of her breath in her throat whenever he looked at her. This disconcerting wracking of her nerves was what she felt when they went on their first date and it went horribly wrong in the best way possible, in a way that cemented her feelings for him and the fact that she was sure that she would want him forever. And she absolutely did.
"May I kiss you?"
Ichigo's voice was soft and almost shy, as if he was afraid he would scare her off. It was a strange sort of tenderness she still wasn't used to receiving from him. There was such honesty in his eyes. He was so careful with her, so sweet even when he was acting tough, so gentle with her when she needed it.
Rukia felt her breath hitch as a tiny smile touched her lips. Nervousness coursed through her veins at his request—he still made her nervous in the sweetest way. So she nodded, her eyes fluttering shut as he kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her chin, and nose. She bit back a grin; she felt like such a dopey high schooler. She loved it.
He placed one last kiss onto her chin before moving to bite her neck with a playful growl. She shirked away from him with a squeal as he held in her place.
"You said kiss!" she laughed. "Not bite!"
"Sorry, sorry," he apologized casually. He placed a short kiss onto the spot he bit with a chuckle, snorting when she whined. "I keep forgetting how human your nerve endings are."
"Ichigo—"
Ichigo raised his chin to kiss her. Her eyes immediately fell shut as she gave into him with a quiet moan, her lips parting right before he took her bottom lip between his teeth—just the way she liked. He kissed her long and slow, as if he wanted to taste as much of her as he possibly could at that specific moment. This kiss was completely him and completely her—exclusively the we and the us. He kissed her as if he wanted her to feel each of his tongue's strokes and his lips movements right down to the tips of her toes. She felt it all. Rukia felt every single thing that he wanted her to feel.
Their kiss dwindled down to a series of light and delicate pecks before they broke apart. He nudged her nose with his and her stomach turned, simply because the warm breaths ghosting her lips felt so good. Her eyes slowly fluttered open to meet his. They were dark and full of a sharp intent that made her scoot closer to him.
He traced his thumb along the length of her bottom lip, gently wiping the wetness away. She immediately grabbed for his wrist, holding it in place so that she could kiss his thumb.
"Can you come back to bed now?" he asked.
That jerk. As if she could say no after that.
Rukia nodded. He placed a final kiss onto her cheek before taking her hand and leading them both to bed. They didn't use any shunpo, and they didn't rush. They took slow and almost calculated steps, as if carefulness was absolutely imperative in this moment—and it was okay. She would be fine. There was no need to be afraid.
Once they reached the bed, they climbed on and slipped underneath the covers. He immediately took her into his embrace and she melted into him at once, allowing him to hold her the same way he held her before she got up. She rested her cheek onto his chest with a leg over his waist while he played with her fingers over his stomach. It felt so good to be like this with him, warm and sweet. She could already feel herself getting ready to fall asleep.
She watched with heavy eyes as he played with her fingers, folding and unfolding them with his like it was a game. Seeing him do that made her stomach flip. She looked up to watch his face. "I never thought you'd be into cuddling."
He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling with a snort. "Me either."
That confession made her stomach do another flip as she blinked up at him. She did her best to ignore it, but it did make her smile. He placed her hand flat onto his stomach, forcing her to feel the skin and scars that decorated his toned abdomen as he grazed his fingertips over her wrist.
"I didn't finish telling you about Heracles, did I?"
Rukia shook her head as she watched him, her eyes fluttering. She probably looked like a lovesick idiot. This man just looked so good. He smelled so good. He felt even better. She was totally immersed in him and his presence, and honestly, that bass in his voice wasn't helping.
"Alright." His voice was heavy and a bit low, a clear indicator that he was just as close to falling asleep. That ragged tone made her toes curl as he placed a chaste kiss onto her forehead. "Where did I leave off?"
"Hera drove him mad," she began. Her voice was slow and a bit slurred as her eyes fell shut. She could feel his thumb stroking the curve of her hip, something that only seemed to help that fast approaching feeling of sleep come faster. "And he did bad things, so he had to redeem himself."
"Oh." His voice seemed to be steadily fading away, although she could hear that smile. "So you were paying attention."
Had it been any other day, she would have drawn him into a stupid argument that would have only ended with him apologizing even though it was her fault. But she was too tired. So she nodded and allowed a yawn to escape her instead as she snuggled deeper into him, taking refuge in the way he laced his fingers with hers again.
Ichigo jolted underneath her with a chuckle, one that morphed into an easy laugh. The sound was warm and welcoming, like the first day of peace after a long war. It made her sigh with elation. He brought her hand up to his lips and placed a kiss into her palm with a soft groan.
"The price of Heracles's redemption," he began as he gently massaged the center of her palm with his thumb. "Was the completion of twelve super-human labors."
That was the last thing Rukia heard before sleep took her away.