Title: The Devil's Plaything, Chapter 18 - Going Under
Series: Bleach
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, het (IchiHime, lots of other pairings eventually), blood, guts, testosterone, ANGST, the usual – and the moment you've all been waiting for
Spoilers: This is AU. We don't need spoilers, where we're going.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. This will probably (never) be updated weekly, until I eventually drop it like every other project ever. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.
It had been over a week since the incident with the cannon, and Ichigo was beginning to think he'd never get out of this training room.
The white creature that had invaded his mind was still there, to be sure. He could feel it sometimes, a mirror image, shifting out of synch with him from time to time. It was an odd feeling, almost like having a devil on his shoulder to whisper suggestions to him. But for the most part, it was nearly entirely in synch with him now. Whatever Urahara had hit him with, it had worked out - just not the way they'd intended.
The yearning, though - that was something new. It was almost as though Ichigo was hungry or thirsty. He'd tried to alleviate it through food and drink; hell, at one point when he'd gotten a little privacy, he'd even tried rubbing one out. Nothing really worked. He had a good idea of why, though.
There were flashes in the back of his mind sometimes. A kind smile, white fabric, sun shining through red hair, the smell of flowers. He suspected the contamination in his blood was urging him to seek out Orihime, but it wasn't unmanageable. Knowing what he did now, being the way he was now, he didn't see himself as a threat to her. In fact, it felt more like he was supposed to protect her, like he was sworn to her service. That thought warmed him like sunlight, and when training was particularly grueling, it helped him hang on. He would get stronger. He would serve her.
After about nine or ten days (Ichigo had lost count, being underground as they were), Shinji called him over to the boulder he'd perched himself upon. Ichigo had been getting kicked into shape by Hiyori (who exclaimed a "What the hell, Baldy?!" at the interruption) when Shinji beckoned.
"What's up?" he asked as he lighted beside Shinji. Shinji's face was pensive - as pensive as the man got, anyway - but not exactly in a worrisome way. He nodded to the spot beside him before speaking.
"Siddown, kid," he said firmly. "Let's have a little chat. How you doin'?" Ichigo regarded him suspiciously, one eyebrow stuck higher than the other.
"I'm... fine?" he replied skeptically. "I mean, for nearly dying last week. Why...?" Shinji nodded knowingly.
"Wanted t'see how your inner demon is doin', that's all." Ichigo nodded gravely. He could've guessed it'd be about that. Next thing Shinji wanted would probably be to spar.
"It's... better, believe it or not," Ichigo replied. He realized he'd left a lot in the way of explanation, so he backtracked. "What I mean is, I feel pretty normal. It's not tryin' to take over anymore. It stays pretty quiet now." Shinji nodded his understanding.
"Thought so," he said with a grin. "I just wanted t'tell ya, Urahara's been runnin' some background tests on ya. Says yer pretty much free ta go now." Ichigo couldn't contain his excitement. His smile broadened and filled his face, and his eyes lit up.
"Yes!" he crowed, fist clenched. Shinji wasn't finished, though.
"One more thing." His voice was a bit lower now, as he looked beyond Ichigo, presumably to guarantee they were beyond the earshot of the others. "This might be nothin', I dunno. But ever since you came here and started trainin' with us, somethin's been different." Ichigo gave him a look of confusion.
"Like what?" he asked solemnly. Shinji shook his head.
"At first, the things inside us were real agitated," he started, letting his eyes slide back toward Ichigo. "When you first showed up, we couldn't wait ta get our teeth inta ya. But now..." Ichigo found himself listening curiously. What was Shinji trying to say?
"Now?"
"Haaah-! It's hard ta describe!" he answered tensely, scrubbing his face with his hands. "It's a good thing, though. Like some kinda renewed hope or somethin'. Like our inner demons recognized you were a comrade. Ya dig?" Ichigo didn't bother hiding his surprise - or interest.
"From me being here?"
"Yeah," Shinji finished up, flashing him his signature grin. "So don't let us down, kid. And no matter what, we got your back, now." Ichigo returned his smile earnestly. He figured there was a much deeper meaning to what Shinji was trying to tell him just then, but he'd let it drop for now. He'd tell him when he was ready.
More importantly, though...
He was a free man, now!
Before he left, Shinji informed him that Urahara had requested a meeting. It wasn't anything he had to rush for, so long as he showed up that day. So he detoured home first to let his Dad know he was still alive - and if he was honest, to find out what story Urahara had concocted for him.
There had been no major changes at home Kon had been instructed not to bother replacing him this time, as the excuse given was that he and Orihime had both been in an auto accident. It went without saying that Rukia didn't exactly place a lot of faith in Kon - not after his last school escapade - and the order had come from Wraith House. He'd also heard tell that Toushirou may have reprimanded Rangiku and the others for their little trip to Kenpachi's house.
At any rate, it was Sunday afternoon. At roughly half past four o'clock, Ichigo walked through the doors to Urahara's shop. The shop kids were there, and the redheaded one, Jinta, directed him to the rooms in the back.
It was slightly different now, as he made his way back. His blood hummed with excitement, heating his body. He idly wondered if Orihime was still here, and if so, how she was doing. Had she been sent back home already? If so, who was watching her? Either way, he made it a point to stop by her apartment later to check in on her.
But as he turned the last corner leading towards the convalescent rooms he'd been healed in, he felt it firmly. She was here, and she wasn't behind a barrier. Rather than clouded, his mind became sharply focused and everything seemed to become more distinct. Whatever instincts or demons now resided within his body, they were calm now, as though his very soul had been pacified.
When he entered the room, all its occupants turned to look at him. There was Urahara, smiling at his entrance; Chad, who had probably been summoned, too; the silent Tessai; and behind them all, Orihime herself. While the others gave Ichigo a friendly nod at his entrance, Orihime's face lit up. Suddenly, Ichigo's heart beat hard against his chest and everything fell away but her. He focused on her like a laser, and she came running towards him. It almost happened in slow motion, but it actually only took a few seconds before her arms were slung around his neck and laughter filled the air.
"Kurosaki-kun!" she chimed. Ichigo was keenly aware of her body now as she pulled close to him for a hug. His arms wrapped around her, hesitantly at first, but soon held her firm. She was still as arousing as ever, but now her presence was also calming. There was no more madness or agitation; only a vague sense of returning where he belonged.
As though she'd remembered herself suddenly, she drew back with a blush, wide eyed, and began to stammer. Ichigo just grinned, as did the other men in the room. Even Chad smiled at her embarrassment.
"It's alright, Inoue," Ichigo said, looking warmly down at her. "You can give me a hug if you want." That caused her to blush more, but the sound of the shopkeep's laughter cut the conversation short.
"We were just discussing Inoue-san's condition, Kurosaki-san," the blonde said from beneath the brim of his hat. "Your timing couldn't have been better." Ichigo's ears perked at this.
"She's better?" It certainly seemed that way. Ichigo remembered the last time he'd seen her with a pang. Her recovery was remarkable, but he was sure it was solely to do with her "alien" physiology. At his question, Orihime beamed up at him.
"Uhn!" she nodded chipperly. "I'm fit as a fiddle now! Urahara-san said I can even go back to school tomorrow!"
"That's great news!" Ichigo was vaguely aware that this was probably a new side of him for the others to see, but right now he didn't care. He was having a pretty damn good day.
"Indeed, indeed!" Urahara joined in. "She can leave any time now. We wanted to wait until you got here, though." Ichigo couldn't even be angry at him for hiding a smirk behind that fan now.
"You want me to walk you home?" he asked, heart suddenly thumping in his ears.
"U-Uhn!" she said with a nod. "I-I thought it would be nice since... since we've both been cooped up." He could just tell that Urahara had a shit-eating grin on his face behind that fan.
"Sure, Inoue," Ichigo responded, ignoring the suggestive grin from the older man. "If you got your things, we can leave now." As she nodded and dipped back over to the bed to pick up her things, Urahara too a quiet step towards Ichigo.
"Kuroaski-san, before you go, a word?" his eyes were now slightly serious, with only the echo of the previous mirth in them. Ichigo's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing until Orihime returned.
"Hey, Inoue," he said, smiling, "Why don't you and Chad go out front and wait on me. Urahara's got to talk to me about something." Chad nodded silently while Orihime gave him a compliant smile. As soon as they were gone, Ichigo slid the door shut and turned to look back at Urahara.
"Well?" the older demon asked expectantly. "How are you feeling?" Ichigo took a deep breath and exhaled. Then he looked up at Urahara and fixed him with his eyes.
"Pretty good, actually," he answered truthfully. "Less crazy than I've felt in a long time." Ichigo paused and looked toward the door. "Being around her doesn't drive me nuts anymore." Urahara nodded his understanding.
"I'm glad to hear it," he said, his eyes serious from beneath his hat. "We were worried you might not pull through there for a while." Ichigo blushed and looked away at the admonition.
"But what I actually wanted was to let you know to be careful," he continued unabated. "We still don't know how you survived that cannon blast exactly, or how you'll cope with her blood inside you. You seem to have survived the initial onset of the "rabies", but there's no way of knowing what might happen from here on out. We're in completely uncharted territory here." The teenager suddenly found his fingers very interesting as he listened.
"Urahara," he said after the other demon was finished. "What... is she? Shinji told me a little, but..." Urahara's face suddenly looked many years older than normal as Ichigo asked that question.
"Even I'm not sure I can answer that, Kurosaki-san," he replied tepidly. "Information is scarce and jealously guarded. The best we've been able to figure is that she's part of an ancient race who were once our deadly enemies. I know I've warned you before, but it bears repeating - guard her well, Kurosaki-san." Ichigo nodded his understanding, his expression serious.
"One last question," he said, eyeing Urahara. "What was in that cannon?" Urahara smiled then, an unsettling expression that almost made Ichigo regret he'd asked.
"The concentrated essence of our ancient friends!" he happily replied, as though he was proud of his handiwork. "I refined that blast from some of Inoue-san's blood. Although the last time I used that method, its victims weren't quite so resilient. So I suppose you're very lucky to still be standing here!" Ichigo was horror struck. Orihime was that powerful?
When Ichigo emerged from the shop a few minutes later, it was late in the afternoon. It was the middle of the year now, so there were still a few more hours of daylight. He greeted his companions with a smile and they responded in turn.
"Hey guys," he said with a small wave, "You ready to go?" Orihime fairly well bounced on her heels, flowery overnight bag in hand. Chad was as passive as ever.
"Uhn!" she chirped, clearly looking forward to going home. Chad, meanwhile, looked like he wanted to say something.
"Actually," he finally spoke, "I'm headed to Wrath House. Hitsugaya-taichou wants you to report in as soon as you can." Ichigo nodded his understanding.
"Tell him I'll be there tomorrow after school, alright?" he asked his giant friend. Chad nodded his understanding with a small grunt and was then on his way.
"Alright, then," Ichigo finally said, smiling down at Orihime. "You ready?" Orihime nodded happily this time before they both set out towards her apartment.
Seeing as there was a bit of time to kill before dusk, they walked slowly, enjoying each other's presence. They stopped by a convenience store and picked up a simple dinner that they could eat while they walked - yakipan, although Orihime loaded hers up with mayonnaise and wasabi. Orihime even eventually wound up walking hand-in-hand with Ichigo as they passed over the walkway above the flood plain. With her head on his shoulder, he thought it might be the most natural thing in the world. As the sun began to sink below the horizon, Ichigo looked down at his classmate, who had snuggled up to his arm while they walked.
"You've just been taking us around in circles, haven't you?" he asked with some measure of amusement. Orihime gave him a cheeky grin in return.
"Eh heh, maybe!" she returned. "I'm just so happy to be able to go out again." The orange light of sunset began flickering through her hair and glittering on her hairpins, suddenly giving Ichigo pause. Was that her heartbeat, or his?
"We need to get you home before dark," he reminded her gently. With a small pout, Orihime looked up at him.
"Oh, poo," she said, "Alright, I guess."
There were no more little detours, then, although Ichigo really wouldn't have minded a few more. Urahara's words echoed in his ears, though, so he knew he had to be responsible and escort her before it was too dark to travel. And if he was truly honest, there was more to it.
They were really only around the corner from their destination, so it only took another few minutes to reach her door. They faced each other then, surrounded by the orange glow of sunset and the long shadows falling across the land.
"Thank you for walking me home today, Kuroaski-kun," Orihime said with a small, polite bow. "It was lots of fun." Ichigo couldn't help a smile.
"I'm glad you had fun," he said. He hesitated for a moment of awkward silence before continuing. "Say, Inoue - can I come in? There's something I wanna talk to you about." Orihime's face practically glowed as her mind processed his question.
"U-U-UHN! C-Come on in, Kurosaki-kun!" What was she imagining to have that kind of reaction? Ichigo was a bit embarrassed by the implications, but a part of him - probably the white, vulgar part, honestly - was secretly interested.
When they entered the dark apartment, they were confronted with the smell of stale, two week old air. Even so, it was fairly clean and sparsely decorated. There was a shelf on the wall with a few stuffed animals, a kotatsu in the middle of the room, a bookshelf full of manga and history books, and a small TV on a cabinet. Orihime kicked her shoes off, forgetting a bit of her nervousness.
"I'm home!" she cheered. Ichigo couldn't help but smile.
"Welcome home," he replied.
"Ah-!" Orihime exclaimed, looking back at him. "Should I have dinner or a bath first?" Ichigo realized she was playing the part of a salaryman returning home to his young wife. The correct answer, of course, was "I'll have you instead", and Ichigo knew the implication. He couldn't allow her to have her way, though.
"Shouldn't I be wearing an apron first?" he asked, smirking. Orihime burst into laughter - only a little of it was from nervousness.
"Not necessarily!" she happily replied, waving a finger by her face. "But you should at least have cooked dinner first!" As Orihime spoke, she danced off toward her kitchenette. "Would you like some tea?" Ichigo watched her go and situated himself at the kotatsu.
"Sure," he said, taking in his surroundings. Orihime's presence had lingered here after she'd been infirmed, but it was as faint as ink in a pool of water. But it was still undeniably her place.
He felt at home here, though. It wasn't just that it was a homey sort of apartment; it really wasn't. If anything, he'd be inclined to say the decor and lighting made it lonely and even melancholy. Hell, the place was even run down structurally, with peeling wallpaper and threadbare tatami. No, it was her presence. Ichigo realized that her presence made it feel like home.
"Here you go," Orihime chirped as she set the brew down in front of Ichigo. She then took her spot across from him at the table. He idly found himself wishing she'd sat beside him instead. "What did you want to talk about?"
"Do you... Do you know where I was while you were healing?" he asked, searching her face. As soon as their eyes met, Orihime looked nervously off to the side.
"Urahara-san said you were training, but..." she started, not meeting his eyes. "I overheard them talking a little. You..." Her eyes slid back to his. "You got some of my blood in you. Are you... Are you okay?" Ichigo's ears perked up. Did that mean she knew what kind of effect she'd have on him? Or what she was?
"Then you know," he breathed. "Yeah, I... I'm fine, Inoue. But what... what are you?" Orihime's hands tightened on the mug of tea as her frightened eyes flickered back to Ichigo.
"I don't know," she admitted, her voice trembling. "Abaddon-sama said I was poisonous, and when you vanished I thought they might have moved you to a real hospital! But you're here now and... and you look fine, so..." So that was what the old man had told her. It wasn't far from the truth, but it was so misleading that it might as well have been a lie. Still... Ichigo found himself wanting to reach out and comfort her.
"It's not exactly like that," he said, directing his attention to his tea. "I did have to fight it. Your blood did something to me. But it's not poison." Orihime looked up at him then, her head snapping up to lock eyes with him. It was as though she thought the answer would be on his face.
"Then what... what did it do?" When Ichigo's eyes met hers, they nearly burned.
"It changed something inside me," he said with renewed purpose. "Inoue, I... I wanted to be completely honest with you. I think I'm supposed to serve you now. But..." Orihime didn't look totally appalled, so he must have been doing okay so far. But the worst admission was to come. "I think I'm in love with you."
"Oh... Kurosaki-kun..." Rather than looking upset or disturbed, Orihime's frightened face softened into a gentle smile. The way she was looking at Ichigo - with gratitude and joy - made his heart skip a beat. But he still had more to say, and the grim look on his face betrayed that.
"It's not... pure," he admitted, with just a touch of shame. "It wasn't even something I'd thought about - for any girl - before that night in the alley. So I don't know if... if it's just your blood, or if it's your body, or if it's you and all those things. I can't separate them." Orihime looked a little stung, like she might actually cry. But Ichigo couldn't string her along without knowing if he truly loved the person she was, and not just her blood.
"You deserve better than that," he grumbled. "I know you do. But I can't change how I feel. I... I want to be with you, Inoue. But only if you're okay with that." Orihime gave him a watery smile before she rose from her spot at the table. For a brief instant, Ichigo was stuck with the terror that she was refusing him. But as she sat down beside him on his side of the kotatsu, that fear abated. Her arms wrapped around him as she buried her head in his shoulder. She still smelled a little of antiseptic, but Ichigo didn't mind. He even put his arm around her and drew her closer.
"I thought that might happen," she said, somewhat sadly. "I wish you only loved me for me, but... you were honest about it. That's a start, isn't it?" When she looked at him again, it felt hopeful and cautiously optimistic. Ichigo smiled in return. She really did fluster him sometimes. But more importantly...
"Is that a yes?" Ichigo slowly began to grin again as the clouds cleared from Orihime's smile.
"Yes," she said. "I'll be with you." She laid her head on his shoulder, breathing lightly across it. They stayed that way for a few minutes, Orihime's head on his shoulder, tickling his neck with her breath. Finally, Ichigo took a deep breath and began to move.
"I should get going," he said reluctantly. "It's going to be dark out soon." The shadows were already visible outside the windows. Sunset was rapidly approaching its end. To his surprise, though, her hands clutched his shirt.
"Don't go," she said quietly. "Stay... Stay here tonight."
Was she scared? Did she just want him to stay because she missed him? Either way, her plea carried the weight of a royal decree. Ichigo ceased moving, nor did he have the slightest inclination to go anymore. Did her word have that much power?
"Alright," was all he could say.
They stayed that way for quite a while, both afraid to move for different reasons. Orihime was afraid to move because she feared Ichigo might vanish again if she let him go, and Ichigo didn't trust himself in this situation - especially after having spoken to his "bad" side. He also had to admit that Orihime was lighting his body on fire just then; her every little shuffle, sigh, and move resonated through him. Was this part of their blood bond? Or was that what it was like to be a teenager in love?
Either way, when he looked down at her, she would blush and bury her face in his shoulder. Maybe she was thinking the same thing? Ichigo waited a moment for her to look back up at him, and when she did, he began to move towards her. His eyes began to drift shut as he moved forward; he wasn't really sure of what he was doing, but he could sure give it a try.
Before he found her lips, though, her hard, thick head slammed up across his face as Orihime jumped up. She stammered an apology as Ichigo hissed and put a hand over his bruised lips.
"S-Sorry! Umm! I-I was just thinking, we could... could watch some tv!" He had to oblige her with a smile, even though he didn't really feel it and he was frustrated at being thwarted.
"Sure, Inoue." If nothing else, it'd make the time pass faster. At best, it'd get his mind off the horrible temptation sitting beside him; at worst, it'd provide background noise.
As soon as she'd found the remote and turned the set on, though, she was right back beside him. When she sat down, he threw a possessive arm around her again, and then proceeded to stare intently at the TV in a futile attempt to ignore how she made his body react. Well, at least she seemed to be paying attention to the TV. Ichigo's mind was elsewhere, much to his dismay.
But as it drifted, a thought struck him. It was almost like divine inspiration; they'd spent so much time worrying about whether he'd marked Orihime or not that no one ever mentioned the other possibility. Something in his mind clicked, sending a wave of pleasure through his body. He was already her knight, to his mind; why not go the whole way and make it official? Besides which, there was no mention whatsoever of his blood being harmful to her. What could they lose?
"Hey, Inoue," he nearly whispered, his tone conspiratorial. Orihime looked up at him too quickly, a blush spread across her nose. So she'd felt that too? Did that mean when they were together, they were in some kind of feedback loop?
"Yes?" she breathed back.
"Mark me."
Ichigo knew it sounded stupid. But somehow, he knew it was the right thing to do. Orihime gave him an uncertain look, but after searching his face for a moment, leaned closer to him.
"Kurosaki-kun... Are you sure?" His expression was solidly determined as he looked her in the eye.
"I'm certain," he replied. "I don't really know how it works, but... I'm your protector. It feels like this will make it official." Orihime searched his face for another moment, the dusting of pink across her nose finally fading. Then she leaned in, hesitantly brushing her lips against his neck. Ichigo stretched to allow her access.
"Where do you... Where do you want it?" The suspense was killing him.
"Right there is fine," he replied, his voice strained. "Somewhere I can hide under my shirt." He realized he was actually clutching her back in anticipation - or possibly nervousness. She gave a small "uhn!" as acknowledgment before leaning in and clamping her lips on the flesh of his neck.
Ichigo hissed as her teeth scraped his skin. As though his body anticipated what was to come, he began to feel his blood pounding in his ears and a strain against his pants. She was most likely just testing him to find the best spot to bite, but the wait had gone from tense to downright tortuous. He could feel his white shadow moving beneath the surface, even as they were perfectly in synch. What she was doing to him was primal and compulsive, and she probably didn't even know it.
Then again, judging from the way she was clutching his t-shirt and the heat of her skin, she might have understood exactly what she was doing to him. And when her tongue gave his neck a probing lick, he nearly blasted off into orbit.
"Inoue," he practically growled as he tried to keep it together, "Bite down." Orihime did as she was asked with an uncertain, muffled noise. It wasn't hard enough to break the flesh, but it was certainly hard enough to tempt Ichigo to undo his pants. She was even nearly straddling his leg at this point.
Finally - finally - she broke the skin. Ichigo felt a rush of heat flow through him as her tongue washed away the blood. It was overwhelming; he had to at least unzip his pants. As he shifted his opposite hand to undo the zipper, he vaguely hoped it didn't bother Orihime. But she seemed unfazed. Instead, she was taking her own sweet time to properly clean his wound with her tongue.
As he was reaching into his pants to take care of the growing bulge there, Ichigo felt something warm and light on his hand. He cracked open an eye to see that Orihime, her eyes still lidded, had moved one shy hand down to help him. With a satisfied grunt, he moved his hand to allow her access, then covered her hand with his. He guided her to the waistband of his boxers, where she slipped inside. His hand covered hers with the cloth between them, helping her find his swollen member. She wrapped her slender fingers around it and began to gently stroke, almost as soft as silk. Ichigo couldn't help but see it as an act of mercy just then.
"Don't stop," he breathed, his voice a pained whisper. The added "please" turned the request into the plea that it really was. This was what everybody had been talking about; his body was on fire from her touch, just from her hand. There was no way this was supposed to feel this good. No wonder demons marked each other.
Orihime's lips left his skin, and the mark she'd left began to cool. But as she lifted heavily lidded eyes towards his face, the blood in Ichigo's veins stayed hot. She kissed his jaw, ruffling her free hand through the base of his hairline and toying with the wound on his neck. It was already healing, even as she stroked one finger over it.
"Kurosaki-kun," she sighed, causing him to look at her. She was blushing, her skin just as hot as his. He suddenly realized that her breasts were pressed to his chest, her body nearly molded to his. And those little pebbles poking him through her shirt... Could she feel what he was feeling? A shudder wracked his body as the thought of their connection crossed his mind.
"Yeah?" he breathed. Orihime kissed his lips lightly, brushing over them and then pulling back away. He could feel her breath, her heartbeat, and the heat of her skin. He couldn't concentrate on anything she might ask him; he was too far gone just then. Instead of thinking about what she might say, he moved his free hand down her back to the round curve of her bottom. Once there, he clutched the fabric of her long skirt, tugging it up over her hips until her panties were exposed. She gave him a started whine at the cool air hitting her skin, but Ichigo didn't care. That was right where he wanted her.
"I-I want... I want..." Her strokes grew harder and firmer, causing Ichigo to hiss and nearly forget what he'd been trying to do. He did understand, then, that if she was so flustered she couldn't talk, that she definitely could feel exactly what he was feeling. Instead of completing her sentence, she kissed him again, this one much harder and more insistent. He wouldn't lose to her, though; Ichigo forgot whatever else he was trying to do and forced his tongue past her lips, almost as if he was hungry to devour her. That made the heat worse, causing him to finally grab at her ass and squeeze. Orihime squealed in surprise, but leaned into it. This was allowed, too.
Just when Ichigo thought he couldn't possibly feel any more pleasure - from Orihime's hand, her kiss, her breasts, her bottom - something broke inside him. It wasn't like the seals he'd broken before. Those were hard and rigid; they snapped like brittle twigs when he flexed his power enough. No, this was like a cup overflowing, his body tensing and then relaxing in a way he'd never in his life experienced. It was different from any time he'd ever finished himself with his own hand; it wasn't even close.
He was gasping for air, and Orihime was practically on top of him now. Even in his haze, he realized that she was still squirming, clearly not yet satisfied. She had to have felt his orgasm; if nothing else, it had happened in her hand. But the way her body was moving, wiggling in frustration, it was as if she was saying it wasn't fair. She didn't really need to say a word, though. Ichigo could sense what she wanted.
He smirked in satisfaction as she gave a startled gasp. His fingers had slid past the legband of her panties, brushing her slit and probing just past her lips. Encouraged by the response, he pressed further, slipping a finger inside, then another. She was soaked, hot and wet, muscles trembling around his fingers in a futile attempt to gain purchase and draw him further inside. Orihime herself had relaxed against Ichigo, nearly going limp from the distraction his fingers were providing. Her occasional gasps had become frequent mewls as she ground against his hand feverishly. If he hadn't already finished, Ichigo figured he'd be hard as a rock again; he was already at half-mast as it was. All he could think of was pounding certain other parts of his anatomy into her like he was doing with his fingers.
"Kurosaki-kun," she panted, her eyes squeezed shut. "I want... I want you t-to mark me too!" Ichigo's eyes flew open with sudden clarity as his whole body sparked. He pulled away from her just to meet her caramel-colored eyes, and saw the desire and longing there. He fully understood what it was to make that pact with her. He'd taken for granted that he belonged to her; he'd belonged to her since he first smelled her blood in that alleyway. But asking him this... She wanted him to know she felt that way, too. Had she always felt that way?
It didn't matter. All that mattered was obeying her wishes.
"Inoue..." Ichigo broke her gaze and lowered his head to her jawline. She was sitting entirely in his lap now, grinding his half-hard cock whenever she moved. She probably didn't even realize she was doing it, and in truth, it wasn't yet much of a problem. But even being as inexperienced as he was, Ichigo knew it wouldn't be long before he was ready to go again if she kept that up. He gave her a warning push against her panties before continuing on to her neck.
After everything they'd gone through, just because people had thought he'd already marked her, he wanted it in an inconspicuous place. It would have to be somewhere only he could see; he didn't mind announcing to the world that he belonged to Orihime, but he knew that her making the same kind of declaration would get them both in trouble.
As he thought it over, Ichigo absentmindedly slid her light shirt up over her breasts. Any other time, he'd have been in awe of just seeing part of them; now, he was deep in thought, and teasing her was as natural as breathing. Instinctively, Orihime made a small, distressed noise and attempted to cover what was visible of her cleavage above her bra. Ichigo was having none of that; with a mischievous grin, he tugged her hands away. With his other hand, he slid her cups down, allowing her breasts to spring free.
"All mine now," he breathed. Orihime's face was red, but he barely noticed. His instincts were in full control now, as though the white part of him was giving him suggestions. He knew now exactly what he wanted to do.
With one hand teasing a pert pink nipple, he used the other to hold the opposite breast in place. Then he leaned forward, and after an experimental lick, latched onto it. He took as much as he could, greedily, pulling the entire areola in and filling his mouth. Orihime shuddered and squeaked, reflexively grinding against him and grasping at the hair on the sides of his head. At this rate, Ichigo briefly thought that they might go all the way before he even got around to marking her.
He didn't stop, though. He was caught in that same feedback loop again, receiving pleasure just as she did. He was hard again and he figured she could tell, what with the way she was straddling him. If past experience going solo was any indication, though, he'd last longer the second time. Without a shadow of a doubt, Ichigo knew there was only one way this would end now.
Finally having had his fill of toying with her, Ichigo moved on. He trailed from her nipple towards her breastbone, a line of hot, wet kisses and love bites. Just as he neared the center of her chest, on the last little bit of spare flesh, he bit down at last.
Several things happened suddenly and immediately. First, the taste of her sweet blood flooded Ichigo's mouth, leaving him dizzy. He could have died satisfied then, and he knew with clarity that his white side was awash with pleasure as well. How had he lived this long without her? Why had he held back for so long?
As he eagerly lapped at the rapidly-closing wound on Orihime's breast, Ichigo noticed something else happening. Her breathing had grown thick and hard, gasping as she made sharp little cries and bit down on one of her fingers. The muscles twitching against him between her thighs told him all he needed to know; Orihime had just had a similarly mind-blowing orgasm.
This knowledge pushed something within Ichigo to the breaking point. No, he couldn't leave it at that. He had to be the one to make her come, properly, from within her. This wouldn't suffice.
It all happened so fast that even Ichigo barely registered what he was doing. One moment she was riding him through her panties; the next, she was on her back beside the kotatsu, legs on either side of him. She looked surprised by being put on the floor, but didn't even cry out. Instead, she clearly knew what he had in mind; she fumbled with her panties until they were around her knees. That was alright, too. He could just push her legs up to expose her. In another few seconds, Ichigo had followed suit and was naked to his knees, too, pants and boxers both down to where he was kneeling on the floor. Then he was on her, pressing against her slit and pushing her knees up to her chest. His eyes bored into her, intently waiting for her signal. His willpower was strained to breaking; what was actually just a second seemed like an eternity. As soon as she nodded, he slid inside with only a little resistance. If it hurt, she didn't let it show; instead, she wiggled to accept him.
Ichigo wasted no time, though. Almost immediately, he was in down to the hilt, causing her to gasp sharply. He'd hit something intense inside, and the feedback loop was almost too much for him. Instead of stopping, though, he pulled back and went at it again. Orihime's cries filled his ears and pushed him forward. The neighbors might hear, but that thought only filled him with perverse glee; they'd know his mistress was well and truly served.
Most of all, though, it felt right. It was like he was finally home after being lost at sea. Even as he was awash with pleasure like he'd never known before, it no longer tormented him. In fact, it felt like he was flawlessly, seamlessly aligned with his white counterpart now. They were acting as one for a true common desire, and that enveloped him from head to toe.
"Kurosaki-kun-!" Orihime's gasp brought Ichigo out of his daze. Had he hurt her? He panicked for a split second before looking at her face. She was just as far gone, overwhelmed and pushed to the edge by the pounding he was giving her. He felt a rush of satisfaction as she dug into his arm and accepted him deeper inside.
"I-I'm gonna... I... H-Haaahn!" She didn't finish her sentence, but she didn't need to. If Ichigo hadn't already known what she was trying to tell him, he would have figured it out when her muscles began to pulse again. He ground his teeth against the overwhelming feeling as he plunged deep one last time. It took everything he had to pull all the way out before he went off again.
Ichigo leaned heavily against Orihime's thighs as his strength left him. He could feel her every muscle move even as his own release overcame him. After what seemed like several minutes of deep breathing, he rolled off to the side, gazing at the ceiling without really seeing it.
"Oh my god," he whispered, nearly awestruck. Orihime was in the process of catching her breath, too. "That was... I never thought..."
"It was... it was better than I ever imagined," Orihime breathed in response. Even through Ichigo's daze, he quirked an eyebrow.
"Than you imagined, huh?" He could tell she was blushing, even though he couldn't see her face. He couldn't help it, though; she was too fun to tease.
"I didn't think you'd be that forceful," she said, recovering and rolling to look at him with a smile. "I liked it." Now it was Ichigo's turn to be embarrassed; he recovered quickly, too. His eyes crinkled and slid over to look at her out of the corner.
"I thought you did," he observed simply. "The neighbors probably enjoyed the show." Orihime sputtered suddenly, clearly defeated by this volley.
"Oh no!" she whispered. "I hope they don't get me in trouble! Sumeragi-san is a real busy-body!" Ichigo couldn't help but laugh at her anxiousness; she hadn't a thought for Sumeragi-san a few minutes ago.
"I can gag you next time?" he offered innocently. Orihime pouted; Ichigo was certain it was a put on. What he was actually receiving from their connection was mild amusement mingled with anxiety over the neighbor and a lingering heat from their recent activities.
"You're dirty," she scolded half-heartedly. "We should go take a bath."
Ichigo doubted they'd get much bathing done.
