A/N: Much lighter fare than my previous fic. I wrote this less than half an hour after "Quincy Pride." It's, um, heavy lime I guess (should be acceptable for an M rating). I'm not sure the title is "G" rated enough; technically "molest" just means "bother" (though not in this context, ne?)
Spoilers: None really. As long as you know who and what Ichigo and Ishida are you should be fine.
Public Molestation
The major problem with Kurosaki Ichigo, Ishida Uryuu reflected, was the fact that he was a Shinigami. No, not because of the whole Shinigami-vs-Quincy thing...more because of the unholy glee Ichigo derived from molesting him in public while in Shinigami form.
Not that Ishida didn't occasionally enjoy the inherent kinkiness of having an invisible lover doing wicked things to him in places where they'd easily get caught if the orange-head was in an actual body, but having Ichigo's hand down his pants on a crowded train was more than a little awkward.
"Cut it out," the Quincy gasped quietly, and since the Shinigami was currently nibbling on his throat it was pretty likely that he heard the near-whisper even over the sound of the train. Ichigo just hummed softly against the pale column of flesh in response before doing something with his errant appendage that caused the raven-haired youth to clutch the metal pole in front of him more tightly with his right hand. With supreme effort, Ishida lifted his left hand so that the bag he was holding better concealed the strange activity in his pants. Yes, this Shinigami thing was definitely a problem.
Ichigo's hand – that is, the one not doing unspeakable things – reached around Ishida to grip the pole just above the black-haired boy's, closing the space between them so that the Shinigami's body was flush against the Quincy's, Uryuu's ice melting into Ichigo's heat. Ishida's eyes focussed on their hands, on the contrast between the almost elegant alabaster hand and the broader, lightly tanned one; both bore calluses, but they were different, reflecting the weapons that caused them. Ishida gasped as Kurosaki thrust against him and his hand made a complementary stroke, a bead of sweat ran from his forehead down his nose and dripped from the tip. So close to release...
"...stop..." Ichigo barely heard the murmur.
"Hmm?" The Shinigami lifted his mouth to the other's ear. "Are you sure you want me to stop?"
"No..." Ishida said, a little louder, struggling to keep his voice from wavering. "I said, 'my stop is next.'"
"Do you want to get off?" Ichigo returned, a lascivious tone in his voice at the double entendre.
"Idiot."
The train began to slow and Ichigo's hand slipped out of the Quincy's pants, his other hand released the pole, and he pulled away. The sudden absence was like phantom limb pain. As the train came to a stop Ishida turned, just in time to watch the Shinigami lick precum from his fingers. Ishida shuddered, nearly exploding on the spot.
"You Quincy really have admirable restraint," Ichigo commented amusedly, a wicked gleam in his eye. "You'd better hurry, or you'll miss your stop."