Two updates in one day? This isn't an April Fool's joke!
-24-
Of course, when they actually mutually decide to keep their distance from one another, it's easier said than done.
Their routines don't change – they don't run into each other on campus – but there's something about acknowledging the bond that makes them feel like they're connected by a tether – a string. It feels deceptively fragile for the way they test it with the physical distance imposed by their normal lives, but they feel it nonetheless.
Ichigo always sounds a little strained when they talk over the phone, and Rukia isn't unaffected herself.
It shows.
Tatsuki's already complained more than once that they've both been lingering around her a little too much; being the common acquaintance between them, and therefore carrying the other's lingering scents.
"How long are you two gonna be apart?" she moans. "If it isn't constantly sniffing me, you're both moody like you're going through puberty all over again!"
"We are not," Rukia opposes with a scowl that feels like it proves Tatsuki's point, and from her look, it does. "I hate you."
"No, you don't," Tatsuki says easily. "You should be nicer to me; I'm playing delivery girl for you!" Then presenting her with a box, she wiggles her offering until Rukia accepts it.
"A delivery," Rukia echoes, "from who?"
"Who do you think?" Tatsuki snickers. "If it's a sex thing, though I'm gonna kill him for making me deliver it."
Rukia snorts. Upon opening it though, her eyes go misty.
"Oh god, is that a Chappy?" Tatsuki demands over her shoulder, and embarrassingly, Rukia blubbers, "Not just any Chappy – the Anniversary Edition Chappy!"
Tatsuki pauses, then groans. "Oh god, it's the same date as you guys meeting at the Sand Dollar isn't it?"
She almost drops the box. "Is it?" Rukia demands, then breathes in shock, "Oh my god, I forgot our anniversary."
"Anniversary is yearly, and it's only been like three months," Tatsuki reminds, her eye twitching, but Rukia isn't moved, she's setting aside the special edition Chappy and looking up gifts online, to Tatsuki's horror. "Oh god, you two are gross."
Which is fair, but also doesn't stop either of them from using Tatsuki as their go-between – delivering everything from novelty mugs and various first edition books Rukia's roped her brother into finding for her, and Ichigo sending her wine and a pair of shoes which may or may not be a hint of a sex thing, but Tatsuki doesn't have to know that.
There are other more innocuous gifts:
Rukia sends him flowers because she thinks boys should get flowers too, and Ichigo sends her a picture of them in a vase beside the cash register at the bookstore which proves it true.
Ichigo, in return, sends her an adult coloring book and some pencils because her brain feels like it's leaking out of her ears thanks to all her essays and reports, and she needs the distraction.
There's a Chappy Rukia picks out for him, for "when he misses her" and he sends her daily pictures of him with Chappy around the apartment in lieu of selfies because he hates taking them, and at least with a Chappy to pose, it isn't so much of a trial for him to bear.
They message and call every day, and though that doesn't make up for the physical distance, something settles, Rukia feels it thrumming between them – steady like a heartbeat.
"I think I'm right," Nanao says seated across from Rukia at their usual breakfast spot, two weeks later.
"You're always right," Rukia dutifully reminds. Then, "What are you right about this time though?"
"You and Ichigo."
"Bonding, yes we know," Tatsuki groans dramatically to Rangiku's snickers, and Rukia's continuous embarrassment, though she manages to fake unconcern, and roll her eyes. "What about it?"
"It's just a theory," Nanao says, perpetually unruffled. "But I think you two have already mated."
That startles Rukia through the sheer impossibility of it. Getting mated was more significant than marriage was. People could get divorced, but mating was – it was forging a connection built on instinct – to separate was the equivalent of digging out an implant with a knife.
Sure, not everyone could be true mates, like Ichigo's parents were, but.
Mating was as close to it as it could get. It's what Byakuya-niisama had with Renji, signified by a bonding ceremony rather than a wedding. Rukia thinks, with the perspective of the conversation with her mother, that it was why she'd been against it.
Of course, mating was also entirely without the pomp of either bonding ceremony or wedding.
A mating was…intimate. It claimed without need for anyone else's presence or bureaucracy. It was a union, a binding for just the people involved.
"Could people mate without knowing it?" Rangiku wonders.
"I've never heard of it in real life, but it's theoretically possible," Nanao says. "And considering Ichigo's parents were true mates, of all things, and he's one of two alphas from alpha-parents, I'm inclined to believe he's all about being a biological anomaly."
"Alright, but the only way to really know is based on scent, and Rukia's hasn't changed even with the fact that they've spent her heat together; they're still kind of separate?" Tatsuki says. A moment later, she squints. "Though, now that you mention it…"
Taking Tatsuki's word for it with her superior sniffer, Rangiku too turns to Rukia in looks of varying degrees of accusation, but Rukia raises her hands in defense. "If we did mate – which I'm not saying we did – it was not intentional. We haven't so much as knotted since his rut, let alone traded mating bites."
"You don't need mating bites to mate, though it does finish the process," Nanao reminds. "Your heat's changed, and you're showing signs of your heat starting again, probably with the hope that this time you'll get a knot and a belly of spent. It's the most common sign that, biologically, you found someone willing to care for you and your future spawns."
Rukia groans. "You just had to mention babies -"
"That's what mating is biologically for!" Nanao reminds. "Your instincts choosing someone to protect you and keep the line alive."
"Aww, we're gonna be aunties!" Rangiku cheers, jabbing at Tatsuki with her elbow.
"Well, I can't be going through heat again," Rukia argues, "I literally just had it two weeks ago!"
"You are crabby," Tatsuki points out.
"And you may not want hugs, but I'm starting to think it's just our hugs you don't want," Rangiku says, and though she's pouting, she has a twinkle in her eye that says it wasn't like she didn't expect it.
And with that evidence, Nanao raises her brows in challenge.
Rukia flails. "Well – now what?"
"Well," Nanao says, "you took high school biology. You're going to get a heat every month until it takes and you're pregnant. Fortunately, the trade-off with frequency is duration, it'll last a couple of hours rather than a few days, but it'll be intense. As long as you two use protection, you'll be fine, but there's no getting around it. You'll definitely want a knot, knowing your mate has one."
At that Rukia groans, "Awesome. Just. Awesome." Then, "Where does that leave us? Should I tell him…does he know?"
"Doubtful," Tatsuki snorts. "Ichigo's smart but he's also an idiot. I bet he had no idea that he's been sending courting gifts to you the past two weeks since you've been apart."
Rukia deadpans, "He's been doing what."
"You're the smartest dumb person I've ever met," Rangiku muses.
Later, back at the apartment, Tatsuki announces, as she's come to do since she'd accepted the role as Ichigo and Rukia's courier, "I got you a present."
Rangiku pouts. "What about me?" In reply, Tatsuki scent marks her a little roughly, ruining her hair and making Rangiku squeal and squirm, practically climbing over the couch to escape. "Ah, bad alpha – bad alpha!"
Snorting, Rukia just barely pays attention in time to get a face full of a shirt, produced from Tatsuki's bag once she's annoyed Rangiku enough to cry uncle.
"Oh god, is he trying to get you to do his laundry?" Rangiku asks making a face.
Even though the shirt is clearly clean, Ichigo's also…done something to it. Kind of like he'd scent marked all over it.
Rukia sighs happily even as Rangiku makes a fake gagging noise before breaking out in giggles, to Tatsuki's scolding, "Hush, it's romantic. Hasn't Gin given you his clothes to wear when you're apart?"
"I guess," she allows, "but you know my sense of smell isn't as strong as you or Rukia's. Though," Rangiku pauses, "that does explain why he gets a little…growly, when I do wear it."
"That means he likes it."
Rangiku leers. "Oh…"
Tatsuki rolls her eyes, her turn to pretend to gag, and gets treated with a shove that then breaks down into a play fight that Tatsuki is absolutely not taking seriously. Rukia ignores them, absentmindedly thanking Tatsuki and disappearing into her room, already shedding her own shirt to replace it with Ichigo's.
It's hilariously too big for her, a dress that stops mid-thigh with the collar drooping low on her chest.
But it's his, and it smells good. Comforting. Rukia feels a part of herself settle even deeper, nuzzling with a thankful sigh.
She finishes three essays and makes major headway on studying for a test when, just before Tatsuki leaves for the gym where she'll see Ichigo, Rukia grabs her shirt from earlier, and leaves her room to toss it at her alpha housemate. "Could you?"
Rolling her eyes fondly, she tells Rukia, "You guys are ridiculous."
"We love you," Rukia teases and gets flipped off for her trouble.
Since Nanao had arrived with takeout for dinner later than expected and Rangiku was annoyingly territorial for a beta, Rukia and Nanao are relegated to the living room center table; their notes as well as their respective laptops scattered on the table and the floor they've claimed for themselves since Rangiku had already moved all her things to the dining table.
Tatsuki is breathing funny again once she gets home, her expression triumphed.
"Did you leave any of the other kids alive?" Rukia teases.
"Oh, this is all your boyfriend's doing," Tatsuki answers, and it's dumb to feel like her stomach's flipped over, but.
Opening the fridge to drain a water bottle down, Tatsuki informs, "He got me this time though, even without a rut to keep him going – you did a number on him." Collapsing on the couch behind her, she continues, "It might be because thanks to your fantastic throw with the shirt, he was of the mistaken opinion that I was cuddling with you recently and was trying to rile him up."
Rukia freezes, but Tatsuki just laughs. "He gets so bitchy sometimes, but he was a lot more fun than usual to fight with so maybe I should cuddle you before going to the gym?"
Rangiku sends Rukia a long-suffering eye-roll that conveys alphas which makes Rukia shake her head, reluctantly amused.
"I hope you don't expect me to wear your shirt," Ichigo says on their call that night.
"But I'm wearing yours," Rukia complains, and there's a noticeable, physical pause. Her brow furrows. "Ichigo?"
He clears his throat. "Uh, I don't know what I expected." Then, there's a pause, the sounds of movement and the rustle of fabric before, with horrified fascination, he declares, "It's a crop top."
She laughs. "What?"
"Your shirt."
"You…are wearing my shirt," Rukia tries to understand, already giggling. "How did you even fit -"
"Not actually as hard as I thought," he admits, and she shouldn't be able to hear the way he's blushing but somehow she can.
"No way! Lemme see!"
He sighs, and complies because one other thing she's learned about Ichigo is that he really would do anything she asked, no matter how ridiculous.
When her phone notifies her of a new message – the picture, Ichigo's sent – Rukia doesn't know what to think.
He'd taken a selfie aimed below his chin: his arms look huge in the shot, and her shirt on him is tight enough that she can make out the peaks of his nipples. Ichigo hadn't been kidding about it being a crop top on him, the hem of her shirt ends half-way down his abdomen; showing off the flat planes, the sharp jut of his hips pointing like an arrow towards the tempting treasure trail disappearing into his joggers, and the not inconsiderable bulge between his slightly spread thighs, and the hand that's half flexed like it wants to grip and tug and –
"Oh, you did that on purpose," she breathes out the accusation.
"You started it," is his retort, and the low curl of his words send a fission of heat unraveling in her belly.
"I just told you I was wearing your shirt," she reminds, trying to sound innocent even as she parts her own legs a little in pantomime to his in the picture, lifting them a little.
Ichigo snorts like that's the point, but still he demands, "Let me see."
She swallows and has to take the photo at least four times because her hand shakes and she almost drops her phone.
She'd decided against taking a similar shot to his – if only because she's a little nervous about the thought of phone sex, if that's even where it's leading to – and sends the most decent shot she has, quickly, before she chickens out.
Ichigo's quiet over the line for a moment, and when her phone makes another sound of an incoming notification, she finds his reply, you're adorable, I could just eat you out. I mean up. No, I don't.
Her laugh is absurd and bashful. "Smooth," she says to his laughter which has definitely dropped an octave that has her spine tingling.
Rukia worries her lip, decides fuck it, and says, "I know we said no sex..."
"Did we?" he drawls.
"It's kind of implied with the whole not-in-physical-distance thing," she teases, her cheeks hot. Then, "Have you ever…?"
"No," Ichigo replies, "but just hearing your voice is kind of doing it for me."
"Oh," she says, feeling lightheaded, her toes curling. "Your voice is kind…doing it for me."
He hums, and Rukia thinks he's smiling.
She wonders what they're supposed to do now, she's not sure how this is supposed to work. With just each other's breaths through the phone, the shot of arousal diffusing into a hum, Ichigo muses, "I haven't taken you on a proper date. The ramen doesn't count."
"Of course not," Rukia replies, "I took you on that date."
"Is that how we're gonna play it?" he prods with a chuckle. "Okay. Fair, fair. How about somewhere fancy, somewhere you're used to?"
"Just because those alphas took me to those places doesn't mean I'd choose them on my own," Rukia reminds patient and curious about where he was going with this, and then, because Ichigo wouldn't make her wait long to find out, he tells her, "No, but I bet you looked beautiful – twinkle of a chandelier catching your eyes, the moonlight on your skin..."
Finding herself feeling fluttery and shy that Ichigo had thought of her in contexts beyond the sexual, she asks softly, "You've thought about this?"
"Since you found me in the bookstore," he says. "You looked like a dream under that skylight."
Rukia blushes at the thought of it, saying, "I remember it differently."
"Oh?"
"The colors streaming down your naked shoulders, how it sliced across your cheek and painted your mouth with every noise you made," she says, biting her lip at the thought of it, her hips moving in a little aborted thrust at nothing.
She doesn't even remember the alpha she'd gone on a date with that day, that had all but chased Rukia into the bookshop with a glass of wine.
She thinks she should send him a fruit basket, whoever he is.
He'd led her to Ichigo, after all.
Ichigo hums like he's in agreement, his breath hitching a little. Rukia licks her lips, and thinks aloud, "Is that what you think of when you think of me, when you're alone?" It's quiet on the line, but it makes every small noise he makes all the louder.
"Do you think of my legs, and how they were wrapped around you? How my shoes were still on, the heel digging into your thighs; the way your hands spread my legs to make room for you?" she wonders, her hands already drifting to slide beneath her underwear. "Because all I can think about is the way your throat worked, how fucking perfect your hips felt slamming into mine, how your hair fell over your eyes…" She's wet and warm beneath her fingertips, her quiet gasp making his breath quicken.
Just barely, she can make out the sound of his hand, slick and rough on himself. Rukia groans.
"I want – my fingers aren't as thick as yours," she complains in a tone that so clearly rings of you jerk, if she wasn't panting.
His exhale sounds like a laugh, but beneath it she can hear the purr, can practically smell the way his scent goes heady and how the taste of his mouth goes sweet.
"Are you…thinking of me in this shirt? Like when we spent my heat together?" It's not the same, she wants to say, I don't feel the same as I am when I'm with you rather than without.
"Your marks on me are all healed up," she continues, "do you think of them? How long you sucked them on me, how deep you dug your teeth?" Her voice hitches, her words hiccupping; the sounds of her wet thrusts and the tremors they elicit making her toes curl. "Do you think of how you could've bonded me if you pressed a little deeper, sucked a little harder?"
Her name is curse and benediction in one.
Breathing coming fast, vision starting to close in around her, Rukia murmurs, "What do you think of Ichigo?"
"You," he says, his voice a dark whisper, "I always think of you."
A/n: FINAL CHAPTER TOMORROW! Ekkk!
