Chapter 14: Say Something
~Ichigo~
Water rivulets pelted down Ichigo's bare back as he stood under the shower. He stuck his head under- letting the roaring water drown out the sound of his heavy thoughts while he processed the events that had transpired earlier.
Steam rose- fogging up the mirrors while he released a deep sigh, letting the warm water soak through his tired body. Clenching his fist in frustration, he rested his head against the cool bathroom tiles.
His body felt feverish.
Water could not cleanse the feel of Rukia's touch under his skin, nor could it erase the taste of fresh peaches lingering about his palate. His body still bore the imprint of her lips on his, still felt the warm press of her body as he held her and remembered the keening mewl that nearly sent him over the edge.
Ichigo shivered as his mind hazed- imagining the sound of her breathless sighs and fervour mantra of his name on those lips as he carefully peeled away the layers of clothes between them, the look in her eyes as she released her inhibitions, the staggered scream that echoes through the room as her body arched and flexed under his ministrations.
He could do that, he realized- would love nothing more than to give himself over to worship Rukia at her feet, not at all saintly and puritan but dark, feral and utterly devout- a true worshipper of heathen goddesses who demanded their dues to be paid in red and gold, who saw no shame in the pursuit of earthly passion and knew pain as intimately as they breathed pleasure.
A true believer would lay himself prostrate before her altar and declare himself unworthy. Ichigo would blasphemously induct himself her head priest and dedicate his being into her worship in the bedroom.
The Rukia in his fantasies is always naked and shamelessly indulgent to his whims.
If he shut his eyes now he could see her- lying on her back with him draped over her. Her black hair fanned about her, her arms coiled around him, her whole body so enticingly close and sensitive to his touch while her fingers fisted at his hair-
Ichigo could see the golden sun making a kaleidoscopic rainfall of light on her supple body while he parted her legs and settled himself between her thighs. Her face was flushed adorably while her dark eyes- heavy-lidded and wordless in their challenge, blinked at him- a lazy come-hither look that sent a warm rush of blood southwards. Underneath him, she was a handful of warm skin and soft curves, tits- the perfect mouthful- coy smile and a hungry look mirroring his as she tilted her head and stared up towards him.
The cock in his hand twitched.
XXX
He gripped the curve of her waist and kept his feverish gaze upon hers while he thrusted into her. A choked groan left him when he could feel himself inside her, his length stretching her, filling her- deeper and faster with every subsequent thrust. She's tight and her dripping sex gripped his length within a velvet coated vice.
Still trapped in his fantasies, his eyes were glassy as he absentmindedly wrapped his hand around his pulsating member and stroked himself, trying in vain to mimic the pleasure he sought in his lewd daydreams.
The Rukia in his vision is unrepentantly vocal. She moaned as she left trails of angry claw marks down his back. Between the two of them, they readily formed a rhythm- one where his mouth alternated from teasing her hardened nipples and trailing open-mouthed kisses down her throat, experimentally nipping and watching with perverse amusement as her pouty lips valiantly tried but ultimately failing to form coherent words while he continued pounding into her.
With every slide of his cock into her pussy, he could feel his self-control fraying and he gasped from the tight squeeze of her walls on his member.
XXX
Knotted muscles rippled, a hand on the shower tile bracing himself against the cool wall, breathless moan as he imagined her in there with him. Rhythmically coaxing him, she met him thrust for thrust. Her dark eyes zeroed in on his, her cute little tits bouncing in time to their rhythm-
Ichigo!
XXX
The urgency in her tone spurred him on as he lost himself to his inhibitions.
He panted, wincing as the bright bathroom lights came back into focus. The sweat clinging to his body was condensed by the humidity of his surroundings. Feeling the slick cum over his hand, he grimaced as he forced himself to step back into the showers.
His high was over as abruptly as it began.
XXX
Glaring at his plastic-wrapped hand still out of commission, Ichigo couldn't help but frown. Even though he regretted nothing and especially not at the confrontation with the baseball-waving son of a bitch, he had to admit that he appreciated the use of both hands. Right now he couldn't even fap in peace without suffering from some form of discomfort.
He's running out of time.
The frustration building up within was enough to make him want to go punch a wall. He was beginning to feel the doubt on whether he could actually win the bet. No matter what he did, Rukia's presence lingered within him- thoughts of her, of them together- how she had fitted so perfectly within his embrace, how eagerly her body had responded to his touches.
The intensity of his feelings had only grown since he first proposed the stupid game.
But to Rukia, he wasn't sure if any of it meant anything to her at all.
Rukia keeps him on his toes and keeps him guessing. It's a trait he appreciates but there were also times when it drives him downright insane. It goes without saying that this is one of those exasperating times.
Just when he thought he was going somewhere, that he finally had her all figured out, that they were making progress, she pushes right back and they fall back to where they were two months ago.
The same sort of awkward and angry confrontation, the same sort of tense silence and tear-filled disavowal, except this time it was infinitely worse because Ichigo was in way deeper than he was months ago and that raised the stakes significantly higher.
When he first came up with the idea, in true and typical Ichigo-fashion, he never truly considered what would happen if things didn't go according to his plans. He was the sort to shoot first and ask questions later, and maybe what Four-eyes said was true- with Rukia, he had a tendency of taking things for granted.
But that wasn't even the worse part- the worst part was his absolute pig-headedness to admit defeat and when he felt threatened, he began to double down on his efforts to win her over only to forget that Rukia didn't do well with his forwardness at times and he ran the risk of pushing her too far- pushing her away in fact if he got too impatient.
It had hurt too much to go after her when she left the house.
But what was pride compared to the absence of Rukia in his life?
Things between them shouldn't end like this.
He refused to let it just end this way. They both meant too much to each other to have things end like this.
Still wrapped up in his thought, Ichigo exited the bathroom hastily. He had to find her and fix this. His mind was running fervently, thinking of places where his midget could have escaped to, a list of contacts that she would seek solace from.
He was a bit hurt when the thought that whoever she was running to wasn't him hit him but he pushed those thoughts away. Now wasn't the time to feel sorry for himself-
Should he try Byakuya or maybe Renji is a better candidate?
He doubted that Rukia would run to her beloved Nii-sama over some petty boy problems but the thought of contacting Renji to ask the latter about Rukia felt like a stab in his pride. Was he not her person?
Maybe she would go to her new friend- Momo something?
XXX
Predictably, as he exited the bathroom, she entered the house.
Time stood still.
Ichigo's breath caught as he half-turned to face her. Him, fresh out the showers with his damp hair, terry cloth hanging around his neck, bare-chested and low-riding jeans snug on his waist, and her in her one-shoulder red sheath dress that had a slit running dangerously high on the side, cheeks stained red and her mascara smudged.
Had she been crying?
The look of surprise etched on her face told him everything- she didn't expect him to still be there.
His hands clenched and gritted his teeth. Did she really want him gone that badly?
The need to sweep her into his arms and realize his deepest darkest desires was all encompassing. His nerve endings were still raw and just looking at her was enough to cause his control to waver.
No, he was an idiot but he learned from his mistakes- he pushed her too hard earlier so he needed to tone it down. He resisted the urge to ask her where she was going when she left for the night- he didn't want her to think he was controlling but seeing her in that tight red dress brought out some animalistic need within him.
She had on some dangerous stilettos- fuck me shoes, his dirty mind whispered. They put her somewhere closer to his height. Not quite meeting his chin yet but she was close and if she were to wrap her legs around him, their nose would touch and Kami-sama the things he could do to her.
It was just unfair to be greeted in such a sight when he just came out from the showers.
He was the first to look away, running a hand through his still wet hair and she released a breath she had been unwittingly holding.
"Been out drinking I see."
Ichigo had started off with an ice-breaker using what he hoped was a neutral tone but seeing how Rukia had flinched at the sound made him realize just how far he had fallen off the mark. Yet, he couldn't help his angry tone. He was just too frustrated at everything- but mostly at himself.
He sighed, sparing her a final glance before leaving for his room. He needed to put some distance between them before he ended up doing something he regretted.
She looked embarrassed at the comment, playing nervously with her hair as she hesitated at the threshold of the door.
"We need to talk."
His body stiffened. Her words stopped him mid-stride, forcing him to meet her gaze squarely while his heart stopped. Ichigo wondered briefly if she could hear the sound of his heart splintering to a million pieces in the intermission that followed and did it give her pleasure to torment him like this?
Here it comes, she's about to go on a spiel about why she can't be with him and he gritted his teeth hard. He can't do this right now- not when she's there standing in that pretty little dress and killing him with her cruel nonchalance.
He's torn between the urge to grab her by the shoulders and just kiss her until they're both breathless and delirious- they both want this, she just wouldn't admit it and it was driving him nuts- or maybe he should just open her brain and see what was going on inside of her.
"I don't want to talk right now."
She needed to stop before they both did something they'll regret later.
Rukia walked towards him. He's hit with the scent of her perfume and he thought not for the first time that falling in love with his midget was quite possibly the worst punishment he would endure. He looked down into her unfathomable pools of blue. She honestly did not know the effect she has on him.
His jaw clenched.
Well two can play at that game. Sometimes he forgets that by being each other's person, they also leave themselves vulnerable to attacks of the worst kind and when pushed into a corner, Ichigo lashed out.
"Ok then let's talk," he growled, "Was I just a replacement for Kaien?"
Her eyes widened, inevitably taking a step back. And the vindication that he was supposed to feel from hurting her never came. Instead the hurt in her eyes scarred him and he felt guilty the second he opened his mouth and posed the question.
"H-H-How did you know about Kaien?"
Rukia's blood turned to ice. She felt faint for a minute. How could he?
After all that they have been through, he should know better than to pry into her business- about Kaien no less, the one thing she had never felt comfortable talking about- before she was ready to tell him.
Damage control- he realized he needed to stop this conversation from spiraling out of control. Damn him and his mouth.
"I'm sorry-" he reached out to her, the words tumbling out from his mouth in a flurry- "I didn't mean it. It's fine. We don't need to talk about him. I'm sor-"
The look on her face could only be described as feral as she slapped his hands away.
"Don't touch me!" she had all but screeched when he tried to take another step towards her. "Who told you about Kaien?"
Her voice was cold and carefully controlled but the icy look she shot him was telling. When Rukia got mad, the heiress reverted to an emotionless paragon of aloofness. Like if she tried hard enough she could switch off her emotions and it wouldn't hurt. The immensely private person that she was- she will likely never forgive him for breaching her trust and the subject revolving around her ill-fated engagement and her ex-fiancé was the worst thing he could have possibly brought up in an already tense situation between them.
He bit his tongue. "It doesn't mat-"
"That's for me to decide," She snapped, "It's for me to decide if this is important or if this matters. Just like how it's my story to tell. I get to decide when and who I tell my past to. So who told you about Kaien?"
Ichigo winced at her sharp tone. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her pain but it seemed like bringing her pain was the only thing he thrived at.
"Byakuya was only trying to help," he offered quietly.
She scoffed and for a second, disbelief coated her features before she carefully tucked it away and the infamous Kuchiki icy cold façade came back.
"Nii-sama had no right," she growled, "I'm sick of people deciding what's right for me. First the Kuchiki elders for putting that stupid engagement in place, then Kaien, when he decided to break off that engagement- twice, and now Nii-sama too?"
"I should have a say on who gets to know that story. I'm the one who got rejected; I'm the one who got caught in the public disgrace, so why shouldn't I get to control the outcome? On who gets to know my story?"
Her eyes stung as her voice cracked. "What's wrong with me making my own decisions?"
Hot tears trailed down her cheeks as she angrily swiped them away with the back of her palm. Her voice choked and Ichigo had never felt a stronger urge to bring her into his arms and hide her away from the world. His Rukia didn't deserve this and he should never have said what he said.
"Rukia," he said, inching his way towards her carefully until he was standing in front of her, "I'm so sorry. If I could take everything back, trust me I would."
He crouched down until he was at her eye-level and was uncharacteristically gentle as he kissed her tears away. She was cold, so unbearably cold he thought as he tugged her closer into his arms and when it became apparent that she wasn't going to hit him or slap him away, cradled her head against his chest and simply held her as she cried.
"I'm sorry," he told her, again and again; genuinely and sincerely until her sobs quietened down and they were both seated on the hard wooden flooring in the living room. There was no image to be upheld, the world didn't see Dr. Kurosaki- the brash, fourth year resident who was the nightmare of his underlings, nor did they see Lady Kuchiki- the aloof heiress who made a living as a columnist and writer much to the disapproval of her family elders.
The world was infinitely simple then and there was only Ichigo and Rukia- two best friends teetering on the edge of becoming something more or nothing at all with the next few seconds that passed.
Rukia sighed- the sound that broke the sombre impasse and empty spaces between them. Still cradled against his chest, she huffed and told him, "I'm not mad at you, Ichigo."
Hope it seemed does spring eternal.
Ichigo made a non-committal grunt, content to just hold onto her and let her talk- afraid that saying anything would be the equivalent of shattering whatever peace they had just achieved.
"Well, not really, anyway," she mused, her tone bordering on sheepish as she continued, "I was more like embarrassed and caught off-guard. Kaien," she paused, something akin to nostalgia seeped into her voice; "talking about him. It's painful. When he broke off our engagement, I was turned into a social pariah and things got so bad that Nii-sama had to send me away to the States. And I was so terribly lonely and scared."
He said nothing and merely rested his chin on the top of her head, tightening his grip. "Talking about him makes me think of all the bad things that happened to me then. I got a bit emotional and just embarrassed when I- I guess what I'm trying to say is-" she cleared her throat and eased herself away from his embrace to meet his eyes- "I don't want you to think less of me."
Ichigo frowned. "There's literally nothing in this world that would ever make me think any less of you."
"Not even as a woman who was rejected twice by the same man?"
He scoffed, easing himself into a better position. "You do know that we live in the 21st century now and not some archaic patriarchal bullshit Stone Age right? Seriously you need to give me the names of those idiot elders and I swear I'll find a way to fuck them up for you."
She giggled.
They sat cross-legged, face to face and knees touching. "I keep forgetting that breaking off engagements doesn't exactly hold the same negative connotation in your circle as it does in mine."
A roguish grin formed, "All the more reason for you to be a Kurosaki instead. We plebians take stupid shit like this much less seriously."
Rukia rolled her eyes good-naturedly but scooted closer towards him. He moved over to his right as she gingerly made her way next to him and sat down, resting her head against his shoulder.
"Yes, but I think I still owe you an explanation."
Ichigo hummed. The room was dark and the only source of light came from the dim bathroom lighting when he reached for her hand and squeezed.
"You can tell me your story when you are ready and whenever you want to but you don't owe me anything, Rukia," he told her, "I play for keeps and I'm not Kaien."
He pursed his lips, frowning in thought. "Your past has shaped you and moulded you into the prickly, sarcastic, strong and beautiful woman that I know you are today. It matters in that respect but -" he brought their linked hands to eye-level and pressed a kiss onto the back of her palm.
"I want a future with you. Your past shouldn't come in between that."
XXX
She had never thought herself deserving of sympathy or pity, never thought of herself as soft or as one of the fairy-tale princesses who needed a knight in shining armour to sweep her off her feet because she was strong, independent and didn't need a man to do the saving. Not when she had clawed her way out of her misery, built herself up from the emotional wreck she was in high school and re-emerged into the Society as a self-made authoress with an enviable job and friends who love her for being her.
But at this very moment, Rukia Kuchiki was a woman who felt loved and cherished. She was wanted and she was enough. Her heart was impossibly full and when she met his heartfelt gaze in the midst of his confession, the ice in her thawed and she melted.
He's not Kaien.
He's not Kaien.
He's not Kaien.
XXX
How was it that it had taken her this long to realize the truth- He's not Kaien - he won't worm his way into her heart and leave it in pieces when he's done, won't leave her without saying goodbye.
He won't because… he loves her.
"You're right," she told him, "but I need to set the record straight. You were never anyone's replacement."
She pressed a hand against his cheek. "You are far too important for me to ever let you think of yourself as Kaien or anyone else's replacement. You and Kaien- you may look alike but inside, you are both very different people. I practically grew up with Kaien-" she drew lazy circles across warm skin as he leaned into her touch- "Yet believe me when I say I don't think I ever truly knew him at all."
"I have never in my life seen you as anyone but Ichigo Kurosaki," she said, "You and Kaien are nothing alike and I will tell you exactly why."
"First time we met was in English Lit. You sat three seats in front of me and I was so surprised- thought to myself for a second there that somehow Kaien came back so I stopped then and there- right next to you as I was walking past. The whole class noticed how I stopped talking mid-sentence but you didn't even care," she snorted, "you had your nose buried in Midsummer Night's Dream and that's when I knew you weren't him."
She laughed at the memory but the smile turned bittersweet as she continued.
"Kaien was a jock. It was almost a miracle that he managed to pass English. There was no way he was ever going to read Shakespeare. Then for the rest of the semester you out-nerded the nerds- the extra-credit works, the late-night study sessions and all those English papers in high 90s," she whistled, "if it weren't because of your busy schedule what with being a medical student and all, Professor Kyoraku told me that he would have picked you as his TA instead."
The heiress grabbed hold of his unblemished arm.
"Kaien has a tattoo of the Shiba family crest on his arm- got it on his 16th birthday. It's tradition- Shiba heirs are tattooed with the family crest on their coming-of-age and no matter how much Kaien hated the elders, that tattoo was his pride. He would rather die than have it removed."
Her hands trembled as he laid a chaste kiss on her forehead, his good arm tugging her closer until she was now seated on his lap, his arms wrapped around her- warm, safe and cared for.
"And Kaien was always so cheerful and gregarious. Always smiling, always charming- he could strike up conversations with anyone and form friendships with some stranger across the road easily. He had his crowd of fangirls, his crowd of popular kids who trailed after him and he basked in their attention. He likes being in charge and likes being admired- likes to have things revolve around him."
"You're like some goddamn onion with all your heavy layers- always so mean and downright hostile to new faces. Do you have any idea how long it took for you to warm up to the idea of me being around you? You have a big heart and you are a doctor- an amazing one who will go that extra mile for all his patients- I get it; but you scare away three prospective dates on a good day with your scowl and your fangirls," she sighed dramatically, poking him playfully in the cheek, "I don't know if I should admire their courage and congratulate them on their boldness or pity them for being taken in by a pretty face."
Ichigo folded his arms, defensively pouting. "What's that supposed to mean, Kuchiki? I will have you know that my fangirls have good taste- this pretty face has got the brains to go with it."
Rukia couldn't help it. She burst out laughing, seeing the exaggerated pout he put on.
"Sure Kurosaki. All brains and brawns and no emotional tact whatsoever," she teased, "Have you seen yourself flirting? Because I have and let me tell you it's downright painful. You were so stiff- acting like you had a gun pointed at you the whole time and the poor girl was so confused at where the conversation was heading. You wouldn't even smile! I have better luck teaching a pig to do maths than to teach you how to smile-" he scowled at that and she smirked- "See what I mean."
"You've got no game at all, Kurosaki," she declared whimsically.
Ichigo smirked, leaning back as he regarded her with a sly smile, "well I'll say this much. For a guy with no game, I seemed to have gotten you quite hot and bothered in the past."
She scoffed, rolling her eyes for good measure, "in your dreams, you dork."
"Oh really?"
This was a challenge he readily accepted.
His head dipped low, so much so that their lips were almost touching and smirked. The full brunt of his stare fell upon her- heavy with his unspoken desire, heady with just a touch of mischief. As he exhaled, warm puffs of air hit her already burning cheek. And as his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, her breath hitched and he was rewarded with the sharp staccato of her beating heart.
He chuckled. "Feeling alright there, Rukia?"
The woman in his arms stiffened. He was so warm, his voice was just the right touch of dark and sultry to make her squirm and she loathed to let him have the upper hand, especially in a compromising position like this.
"Just peachy," she spat through gritted teeth.
The smirk on his face only widened.
His hand idly travelled up the length of her leg, fingers brushing against her naked skin- first through the open split on her dress, then across the side of dress, drifting higher until the pad of his thumb was tracing random geometric patterns against the delicate skin on her collar bone. His warmth radiated through the soft-spun satin, and with each press of his fingertips against her skin, thus formed a trail of goose bumps and burning want.
His lips made soft imprints against her unmarked throat, but they didn't linger- leaving her unsatisfied and irritated. Holding back her whine of frustration, she instead shot him a glare that would have maimed a weaker man, and growled, keeping her voice as level as possible, "s-stop it."
"But I thought you were fine with this," he smirked, emphasizing his point by brushing the tip of his nose against her neck, making her shiver, "you seem perfectly fine. You are right after all- I wouldn't know the first thing about flirting and seducing pretty girls."
His fingers had brushed against one of her ticklish spots and she became a helpless, mewling mess. This time she couldn't hold the breathless noises no matter how hard she tried. It was humiliating to say the least especially when she could feel the curve of his smile against her feverish skin.
Hearing his hearty chuckle just made her want all the more to slap the grin off him and his stupid face.
"I-I-I stand by what I said," she growled, "you're an ass and you suck at this. You're just lucky you happen to have a pretty face. If someone uglier tried it I would have slapped him and sued him for sexual harassment."
"Now, now, Rukia," he cooed mockingly, "there's no need to be testy. You're gonna hurt my feelings-" she frowned at the grin he flashed her- "Just admit it. Game or no game- I can still get under your skin. Wonder what that says about you."
Her cheeks were burning and a sharp retort was forming at the tip of tongue but she resisted the temptation. She knew how and when to pick her battles.
She would begrudgingly let him have this round.
Bristling and shrugging herself off his hold, she sniffed haughtily.
"You've made your point, you jerk," she folded her arms, "Now stop interrupting me and let me finish my story."
Still smirking, Ichigo made a point to lean away from her and said to her, "the stage is yours."
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," the heiress cleared her throat, "Kaien is loud and boisterous- life of the party and when he enters a room, he becomes the centre of attention and you would love him more because of that."
"Sounds like a typical self-absorbed bastard to me."
She silenced him with a sharp look and he mumbled sorry, miming the act of zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key before he gestured at her to continue.
"But that's just it. Kaien isn't a typical meathead- he's the good guy. He's the guy who volunteered at soup kitchens, held donation drives for homeless people and he once beat up a pervert that he saw put something in a girl's drink," she sighed, "I can't hate him and I look up to him too much. I was so grateful just to have been able to tag along. Thought he was just so cool and he makes everything look so easy."
"A night out with Kaien meant parties and crazies- adventures you would never dream of. We once ended up watching sunrise in Hawaii on a fishing boat we bartered for his Rolex watch. Every time we went for a party, a club or charity gala he would promise Nii-sama he would make sure we got back much earlier the next time."
"Needless to say," she chuckled, "he never kept his promises."
"You on the other hand," she mused, "wouldn't even step foot into a room if you knew there was going to be more than five strangers in there. You go out of your way to avoid people. I remembered how Keigo had to nag and pester you to go to a nightclub with us and you hated every minute of it. Not that I blame you," she paused, recalling the incident vividly.
"You kept complaining about the noise and the strobe lights and then Keigo got all shitfaced and vomited all over your shoes. I don't think I have ever seen you so mad and had to forcibly drag you out before you murdered him in front of all those people. My first night out with you," she breathed, "was a failed attempt at clubbing and then sipping hot cocoa and watching the Godfather till we both fell asleep on the couch."
The doctor winced. "I sound like a real bore. Why did you even stick around?"
She shrugged.
"Maybe because I never really did like going to parties anyway. Maybe all I wanted to do was to put on comfy PJs, and fall asleep watching old gangster movies. And Ran stopped badgering me to go out once I started hanging out with you."
Rukia tried to peek at his expression but he had his head down and was strangely quiet.
XXX
"I would never see you as Kaien."
"Kaien," she pursed her lips, "broke my heart and made me who I am now. But you're the best friend I never thought I'd have. You're my first friend after Kaien and you helped me find myself again. You're my person."
The look in her eyes was humbling- so bright and he felt undeserving of her trust. He growled, "I'll kill him."
She sighed; smaller hands grasped his clenched fist and gently pried it open. "He's not worth it."
Rukia slipped her hand into his and burrowed herself deeper into his embrace.
"Did you love him?"
She winced. Ichigo- ever so direct in his methods but she would never lie to him.
"I did."
Kaien was her first love- practically a part of her childhood. Her fondest memories growing up were of two inseparable playmates who roamed the halls of Kuchiki Manor carelessly and wreaked havoc in the green forestry that dotted the Shiba Estate. That was her past and that would never change.
Ichigo stiffened. He had expected the answer, hearing her admit it out loud though still made him flinch. He made a sound at the back of his throat.
"That night when you went into the room with him- why did you? You knew he wanted to break off the engagement, so why did you still hold on for so long? He even left a note."
"Because I am a fool," she said, and then quieter, "I am proud and maybe just desperate enough- part of me was still holding on to a hope that he'll come back some day. But- but I think I'm finally ready to let it go."
She gulped. Her midnight blues sought out his, their bodies unbearably close to each other as she leaned in towards him.
"I think-" her voice was scarcely louder than a whisper but the words were deafening to him-
"I think that I love you."
XXX
This was the bridge-burning, line-crossing that she balked against since the beginning. Yet in the very moment the gravity of it all seemed lost to her, something in his eyes emboldened her; made her believe that things would be alright, that if she fell- headfirst and without a parachute, he would still be there to catch her.
Tentatively she tilted her face upwards to graze against his lips just so, before she kissed him.
The hungry and needy ache of his was barely alleviated by the closeness of their bodies as he pressed forward. His palm rested on the back of her head, fingers threading through her soft hair while he breathed her in; willing her presence to sink within him, to make a home with his weary bones and let his soul anchor hers. He kissed her- deeply, hungrily, passionately; as if he were a dying man and her lips held a secret to eternal life- smeared in sin and wine- known only to her most intimate followers and of that, he most certainly was.
She responded to his eager kisses with a fire of her own. Where his fingers had touched and skimmed and held, there marked a branded seal- of longing, of misery, of passion and immortal reckoning. It seared through clothing, skin, bones; and made its indents on her heart.
This man was now a part of her. No matter what happens between now and till the next Sun that dawns- the world could stop spinning and entire civilizations may collapse but she will forever remember this encounter.
She will forever taste the salt of his skin, the damp hair she threaded her fingers through as she allowed herself to fall, the way his lips moved against hers, the feel of his warmth as naked skin pressed against one another, the tremor she felt in his fingers as they mapped her skin- awe-filled and hesitant as though he was mapping the atlas of the universe.
When the need to breathe become too much, he chose to leave a trail of kisses down the column of her throat, trailing lower at her collar bone and then tugging the front of her dress lower, bunching the dress roughly and not minding the tear at all when it ripped, just so he could place more of his open-mouth kisses and sing her praises of worship from between the valley of her breasts.
Satin caught on her straining nipples as the front of the dress pooled, making her hiss.
Their eyes met.
The dusky pink of her areolas, the hardened tips of her nipples, her bare breasts just the perfect mouthful- his fantasies from earlier did not prepare him for the sight.
His mouth went dry as he felt himself hardening.
"Fuck," he cursed as he regarded her with a strange look- a cross between stunned and utter exultation, "you're not wearing a bra."
Rukia opened her mouth, embarrassed and ready to retort. She wanted to cover herself, to tell him wipe that look of his face, to stop making a big deal out of it, because it wasn't for him. She didn't plan this for crying out loud! It was because the dress- gorgeous as it was, didn't allow her to w-
Ichigo closed his lips around one of her breasts and she was made to swallow her words, choking on her reply instead.
She arched- spreading her legs open, body flexing, fisted his hair as he suckled. A warm hand palmed her right while he greedily latched on her left nipple- alternately kneading and sucking, licking and nipping; repeating the actions until the nipples pebbled and turned taut. Her body shook and shuddered, breathing ragged and desperate as what started as whine of frustrations turned into sharp tugs at his hair.
He groaned at the feel of her small hands curling around him, holding onto him as though he was in danger of disappearing. The hand he had placed on her tender breast gradually trailed lower until they came to the end of her dress, hiking the material up until his fingers were making raw marks onto the cheeks of her butt.
She hissed at the pain, clawing at him to show her displeasure.
He mouthed his apology against her skin, placing kisses on the patch of skin above her heart before his hands dipped low and began palming the soft flesh of her bottom. He grunted- the pain on his back barely seemed to faze him as he gripped her bottom hard enough to leave bruises on them for the days to come. He squeezed- experimentally at first, then bolder in his approach until he was kneading the flesh and timing each grip against the swipe of his tongue against her sensitive peaks.
Her legs parted, wrapping themselves around his waist as she raised herself taller, setting herself upon his lap. She was aching, burning and dying all at once. She wanted him to touch her but couldn't seem to form the necessary words in her brain.
Thoughts, words- everything was fleeting but the need for him burnt through her haze.
More.
XXX
She needed more of him- more of his warmth, his touches, his kisses. Just him. She needed to be closer to him.
As she canted her hips against his, she nuzzled against his muscled chest- a keening cry as she whined for his attention and mercy. She was lost in a sea of mindless haze- sustained only by touches and kisses. The only thing that seemed to make sense any more was him and he wasn't nearly close enough.
Ahhh.
XXX
The delicious friction of her cotton-covered core against his denim jeans- she shut her eyes, it helped but was not nearly enough. The bulge in his pants- her fingers ghosted over it, fumbling to reach the fly of his zipper. He jerked at the sensation, unexpectedly ending the kiss.
His eyes fluttered open, revealing eyes cast in that evanescent shade of liquid gold, something dark but craven in its intensity- as though he too was lost in his need for her and begging, an utter surrendering of his heart and soul should she find her voice in time to demand it.
He gave a deep groan, as her hands occupied themselves with the task of stroking him through the heavy material. His pink lips that puckered, a mouth shaped in that perfect look of surprise- thin trail of saliva connecting his open mouth to hers. His eyes had a soft, almost desperate shine to them as he bucked his hips against her hand- utterly helpless in his eagerness and voiceless in his demand of hers to take him- into her hands, into her pretty little mouth, or maybe even deeper if she wanted; bare-back or missionary, whatever position she wanted to have him laid onto.
The sight alone- him under her, pliant and on the verge of begging- was enough to make her cum on principle alone but the control that he was surrendering to her, the trust he placed in handing the reins over to her- it hit her hard.
She reluctantly pulled away from him.
"W-Wait."
XXX
The man below her had wet hair plastered against his forehead, the look in his eyes molten as he groaned at the interruption. His lips were bruised to such an inviting shade of red and his heaving chest shuddered as she gripped the sides of his arm.
Her mouth went dry and she had to remind herself to pointedly look away from his bare chest and breathe.
He looked at her- annoyed, impatient- colour rose to his cheeks as he drew himself into sitting upright and fixed her a blank stare- his own silent demand of an explanation.
"I've never done this before," she admitted.
He sighed. Knowing that she hadn't stopped him because she regretted the make-out session lifted a great weight off his chest. Hesitance and shyness was much easier to coax out of her.
"To having sex, to having sex with me, or topping?"
Rukia pointedly looked away. Her virginity shouldn't be an issue here, just because she had never allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of another person and indulged (much) in her physical need for pleasure didn't mean she was a complete prude.
She still knew how sex works and was comfortable with touching herself. If reading Kama Sutra could grant her intimate knowledge on the subject she would gladly do so but that was beside the point.
She told herself that it was just like any other physical skill- she could learn it through repetition and with enough practice- she blushed- might even turn out to be great at it- so why was she so embarrassed to admit her inexperience? Was she afraid that Ichigo would tease her?
Would he tease her?
XXX
She bit down her lip. "All of the above."
Right, he mused to himself. That was understandable. What he was about to say though he realized might shock her.
He breathed in deeply and asked, "And you think I have?"
Wait- what?
XXX
"Are you saying that you haven't?"
It was her turn to gape. She spluttered, gesturing towards him and his face, "B-But you- you look like this!"
She watched as colours blossomed and dotted his cheeks. Under her gaze, her lover made a show of clearing his throat loudly.
"And you're Rukia Kuchiki. Your point being?"
Rukia didn't know what to make of it. Her eyebrows were furrowed deep and disbelief coated her voice as she whispered, "You don't have to lie about it to make me feel better. I mean-"
He panicked, pulling her back into his arms and tucked his chin on top of her head, determinedly keeping her pressed against his front. God knows what her insecure and colourful mind would come up with if she started thinking like that.
"Let me tell you something-" he whispered, his voice husky and deep as he willed her and her alone to absorb the full brunt of his secret- "let's just say on top of being an anti-social party pooper who skipped a few grades in school and also loves watching old gangster movies I'm also valedictorian, a closet Shakespeare enthusiast and your best friend. Does that sound like someone who has a lot of time and social life to be dicking anyone down?
He kissed the top of her head.
"Even if I happen to look like this," he teased.
Ichigo supposed having teenage sisters when growing up was a help. Yuzu was always gushing about some K-drama male actor and debating with Karin about whether such a man would exist in real life. Their "discussions" meant drama marathons on the family TV and though Karin criticized the fuck out of the shows, insisted on how unrealistic it would have been in real life, she never missed a single one of the viewings and naturally he wasn't allowed to change the channel while the girls fangirled, so he would begrudgingly watch too.
Part of him would forever be flattered to think that Rukia had such fanciful expectations of his prowess and the other part would forever be grateful to his mother for all the good genes he received. The old goat-chin (a.k.a. his sperm donor) was a lost cause and contributed next to nothing of importance.
Rukia squirmed against his hold, breaking away from it completely until she sat at eye level with him.
"But what with that stupid bet and I mean- you sound so confident like you actually know what you're doing."
"I was bluffing," he admitted sheepishly. "And I was trying my best to prove a point. Of course I wasn't going to back down from it. Knowing what was at stake here I would be damned if I didn't give it my 200%. You're worth every bit of it."
Something in his soft brown eyes told her that he didn't care about the perfect Kuchiki heiress, or the world-renowned authoress he only ever cared about her- bossy, proud, annoying, prickly- she was all of it and more but he still calls her beautiful, sees her strength and calls her out on her bullshit (most of the time), and maybe that was something she should have noticed a long time ago.
There was something in her eye, she thought belatedly as he reached for her and she gave in, simply allowing herself to be held, and loved, and cooed to as he whispered to her.
"Hey it's okay-" he pressed kisses to her temple and she believed him- "We'll take things slow. Learn from each other and everything will be alright."
"You've got me."
Cocooned deep within his arms, she let her defence down- peeling away her deep layers of insecurities, false confidence and the icy facade of indifference; and simply allowed herself to breathe.
For the first time since Kaien, Rukia- the girl who was left behind, the child bride, the unhappy fiancée, the teenager barely growing into her own person; can be at peace with the woman she is now.
Tomorrow, the Sun will still shine and the Earth will continue to rotate on its axis. People will still go out poking their noses into other people's businesses and quite possibly nothing will even change but she was ready to move on to the next chapter of her life with Ichigo.
Stay, she whispered. The room was dark and her voice, soft and barely audible as he cloistered her away from the rest of the world.
He linked their hands.
I'm right here.
Hese's corner:
Edited.
This lovely chapter is dedicated to naomimevil on Tumblr. Her IR art work is AMAZE-BALLS and the recent one involving a shirtless Ichigo and a Rukia dressed in red is the muse for this chapter so thank her please.