I wanna' make you mine, but that's hard to say. Is this coming off in a cheesy way?
. . .
The fragile paper door to Renji's quarters shut hard, rattling on its frame after the hasty slam rolled it back into place behind the room's two occupants, who were currently sealed at the mouth and scrabbling at each other with hungry hands.
Every part of Ichigo unanimously agreed, heart, head, libido: this was the best fucking night of his life – and the greatest part is that it was only half over! The fun was only just getting started
Although they hadn't drank at any of the celebrations, they stumbled towards Renji's bed as though they were indeed inebriated. Renji was laughing a bit and Ichigo's nose was itching with a smile. Their mouths were locked, and every moment they breathed together, however clumsy they were in their hastiness, tasted like sweet relief.
As they practically dropped backwards onto the bed, Ichigo going down hard butt-first, Renji came down like a ton of bricks on top of him, and they laughed again – fucking fools, the both of them. Ichigo didn't even fucking care that they were gasping and sweating before anything had hardly even happened or that they were giggling like little boys even though they weren't actually smashed. It didn't matter, it wasn't any less elating or… or perfect. Tonight, he is a man!
Renji was on him like he couldn't believe he'd ever spent a day keeping them apart, like he finally agreed with Ichigo and saw why he'd thought it was so stupid to wait, to put off something this- this right- this satisfying a single second longer. Ichigo was nearly overwhelmed by Renji's enthusiasm, gripping back onto him and kissing him with all the fervor he could manage with the little breath he could get into his lungs. He wasn't used to Renji throwing in the full weight of his passion without hesitating, without pulling away or wincing- This was new, and he loved it.
Renji pressed him to the bed with a hungry wet groan, breaking their liplock with a smack and attacking Ichigo's neck, his ear. Ichigo's arms fell flat to the blankets and his eyes slipped closed, flickered, roved over the ceiling. An exhilarating thrill of nerves and excitement bowled through him, and he couldn't help the punctuated gasp that escaped him, his eyes scrunching shut again.
Suddenly, he could hear Renji's breath again, heavy and hard, and he realized that it was because he'd pulled back completely. Ichigo opened an eye and half-sat up on his elbows to see Renji sitting back on his knees, brow furrowed uncertainly. Ichigo immediately narrowed his eyes and huffed, as if to say 'really?' – because he knew where this was going, and it wasn't allowed to go there. Not on his birthday.
"'re you sure about this?" Renji rasped, his mouth and eyes glittering, his hands clenching as though already hating being away from Ichigo's body.
"Renji," Ichigo said as calmly as he could when he was this breathless and turned on, going on to threaten in a dead-serious tone, "I'm gonna' fucking kill you."
"Okay, okay," Renji immediately conceded, as if having just been waiting for that final blow for him to at last abandon his lingering guilt in favor of pursuing the gratification they've both been starving for. "Mostly kidding-" and just like that, he was back in Ichigo's arms and they were rolling back into the bed.
"You'd better be," Ichigo mumbled onto Renji's mouth, which sought his as though it regretted even the momentary parting. Renji gave a long contented sigh, the rush of air fluttering Ichigo's eyelashes, which made him snort.
Today, Ichigo was twenty. It was his birthday, and he and Renji had spent almost the whole day giving each other the eyes, bursting at the seams for those last hours to be over. For everyone else, the well wishes and pleasantries were about his coming of age, but for them, something much more – Ichigo felt – important lay waiting, if only they could just bypass all of the social niceties and be alone together.
At least he hadn't had to open that many gifts. Most of the people here went by the old traditions, and didn't give gifts on birthdays. Some of the people who knew a little more about him and the human way had gotten him something however. Rukia for example – even Ikkaku, fuck that guy, Ichigo was still a little mad at him. Byakuya too, had bestowed him with what looked like really fancy and expensive… stationary?
Anyways, he'd suffered through the entire day, shaking all over at the way Renji was looking at him and practically tearing his clothes off one piece at a time with his eyes. The fucker kept licking his lips and just staring – he wasn't subtle at all!
They'd stayed at Ichigo's party that night for the bare minimum that wouldn't be seen as rude, and then slipped off. The sun had set about an hour ago, and the minute they'd been left alone, escaped, they were on each other like they were trying to suction each other's faces off. They'd hardly made it home, but here they were, and now they were fucking around like nobody's business.
Any idea of savoring it and going slow the first time they really got their hands on each other was thrown to the winds, gone, never to be seen again. Renji kissed Ichigo with all the desperation and hunger of a starving animal, half-wild and dangerous, as he tugged at his clothes, pulling them open, off, away- his hands returning eagerly to his exposed skin.
In truth, they didn't make it that far, too eager now that it was finally time, now that they could finally get at each other, that they were far too occupied with kissing and pretty much mauling the other to do much else. Sealed at the mouth and with heavy grips in hair or around backs or necks, they settled on rutting against each other, hips bumping and thrusting together in a frenzy of desperate motion and heady gasps.
Ichigo could feel the hot flesh of Renji's erection against his – at some point, Renji had pulled the both of them out of their underwear – but he could still feel the loose fabric of his hakama on his legs, not fully pulled down and tossed away. His fundoshi was still tied, merely pushed back enough to release his straining cock, not having known the touch of Renji's hand against it for more than the moment it took to coax it out and then slam it between their hard stomachs. Ichigo mental state was far too heightened with excitement and nerves for any thought of self-consciousness about their size difference or being exposed in front of someone else to bother him, although later when they weren't so drunk off the finally part and the spontaneity of the situation that it probably would.
Really though, finally was what that orgasm felt like when they drove themselves to that point, shuddering and gasping against each other, sensitive to the point of pain, exhausted and completely sated despite the rather amateur method of achieving said orgasm. Finally, fucking finally. Ichigo had once thought – rather melodramatically – that he might literally die before Renji let him get laid… you know, freak accidents still happened even during a peacetime. Something might've happened and he might never have gotten to experience… this!
It was no big deal now though – everything was going to be okay. They were going to fuck any day now, maybe even later tonight. Renji didn't have any excuse not to now that Ichigo's twenty. Really, the whole waiting thing had been ridiculous anyways. Damn Ikkaku, thinks he's funny, always fucking around like Renji doesn't take his every word like it's gospel. Ichigo still hasn't forgiven that cue ball for the few hundred orgasms he could've had if Renji hadn't gone on that dumbass abstinence crusade because of his goddamn 'taking-advantage-of-the-young' jabs three years ago. Seventeen wasn't that young… Well, maybe compared to a centuries-old undead soldier, but never mind that!
It doesn't matter anymore. The wait is over. Finally.
Ichigo came pretty quickly, but he didn't have it in him to feel embarrassed, so wiped out by it that he was still shuddering a bit, trying to push Renji off of him so that nothing could touch his dick for a while. In doing so, he saw that Renji had been so worked up, so equally excited, that at some point during Ichigo's who-knows-how-long daze of pleasure and recovery, he'd cum too into the mess of their hastily and barely shoved aside clothes and patches of exposed flesh.
Ichigo let out a long contented sigh, his lips curling into a smile and his eyes fluttering shut with it. Renji lay partly atop him, still but for rumbling heaving gasps that pressed Ichigo down into the bed with each deep greedy inhale. He could feel Renji swallow and heard him breathing through his mouth, and let his hands rest atop Renji's back, his head laying limp in the sweaty patch he'd made in the covers.
Renji sprawled out on him for a few more seconds and then to Ichigo's confusion, rolled off, settling some ways away on his butt, his knees up near his chest. Ichigo struggled to lift his head, his spine feeling like jelly from his lower back all the way to his neck. Renji faced mostly away from him, but it was clear he had his head in his hands, his eyes peeking through gaps in his fingers. His thumbs were over his ears. Shit, what the fuck?
"What," Ichigo gasped, still reeling from that thorough release – fuck, he felt like a towel that had been wrung out and slapped over a line, lame and limp, damp, not dry enough to soak up water and not wet enough to be worth squeezing out again. "Hey, come back, come-" he breathed, a hand reaching out and flopping back to the bed rather pathetically. Fuck, he was still trembling a little.
"Oh god, what did I do?" Renji whisper-shrieked, practically squeaking.
"Huh?" Ichigo mumbled, mouth slack and lazy, head spinning, but still thoroughly agog at Renji's weird- his weird… fuck, weirdness. He can't think.
"Oh god!" Renji howled, completely horrified and seizing as if he'd been doused in slime and didn't dare move lest he spread it to the surrounding furniture. Ichigo watched him for a confused second, then surmising that this was post-orgasm afterguilt, let out a long groan. Really? Still? Renji was way too melodramatic. "Shit. Shit."
"Oh for fuck's sake, get back here," Ichigo hissed, making a valiant effort to rouse himself out of his stupor and slither across part of the bed to throw an arm around Renji's tense waist, tugging lightly to try and get him to come back, because that was about as much strength as his wobbly muscles had left. "Stop."
"No, get off! Don't be nice ta' me, Ichigo," Renji yelped as Ichigo gained a bit more strength and succeeded in tugging him an inch, then one more. Renji shook his head, and in what Ichigo thought was an entirely too dramatic fashion, declared sadly, "I don't deserve ta' look at your face!"
"What the fuck, are you on drugs or something?" Ichigo's arms slackened, his head lying on the bed next to Renji's butt and leg. He narrowed his eyes. "Wait, is this seriously still about that-"
Renji jerked out of his arms and glared at him, scowling with his eyes wide open, which took the effect right out of it, turning it into a sad watery frown. "I'm a dirty man," he rasped in a whisper that could only be characterized as scandalized.
Ichigo stared at him with his mouth open for a moment, his limbs laying where they'd fallen when Renji had yanked away and thrown him off. "Are you serious?" he said after a few moments of calm in which Renji stared back and awaited – what, a condemnation? Ichigo narrowed his eyes and let his mouth flatten into an unimpressed line. Renji seriously needed to lay off the crazy pills.
At Ichigo's clear dismissal of his concerns, Renji scowled for real that time and tried to get up, probably to go shut himself in the bathroom, or drink in silence and wallow in self-hatred, or wander the streets in the night, or any number of other cliche tragic things – but in a burst of frantic and completely-fed-up strength, Ichigo leapt for him, nabbed him around the middle, and tackled him to the bed. Renji, miffed and not wanting to be held or touched at all, fought him, and they both started tussling and grappling against each other in a way that nobody should while they have their dick out and still-wet cum on their stomach and their muscles pathetically weak and trembling – which they both did. Hopefully it was one of those things that would be funnier later.
For now, it wasn't funny at all. In fact, Ichigo was fucking livid. How fucking dare Renji pull this shit now. What the hell was wrong with him, going to pieces like this on what should be the best night of his life?
Renji put up a token fight, but it was clear from the way Ichigo easily fought his way on top and sat on his stomach that he was mostly just mad that Ichigo wouldn't just leave him alone and let him go sulk, which was not happening. Ichigo, a bit shaky and maybe more prone to being emotional when he was still recovering from climaxing, grew so frustrated that Renji was doing this now, that he was- was- This stupid, stupid-head! He just started punching him and hollered, "You fucker!" He fumbled a bit as Renji tried to cover his head and shove his arms back, wincing and growling, and Ichigo tried hitting him again, his aim miserable. "Why'd you have to ruin this, huh?!" He let his hands fall into his lap and sat on Renji's chest, glaring down at him. "It's my birthday, and my one wish- But you're just being dumb!"
Renji wouldn't even look at him, eyes sad and closed-off, mouth contorted in a snarl. Ichigo's fist paused, and for a moment he felt like he would explode from frustration and helplessness. There was... there was really no point, was there...
"Rrrrgh!" Scowling, Ichigo threw himself to the bed, folding his arms and growling, long and loud. Renji, still upset, rolled after him and grabbed him by the shoulders, trying to drag him up, maybe to shake him, to toss him around. Ichigo didn't help him, letting his weight drop against Renji's shaking arms as he continued raging at him. "You stupid idiot! You baboon-faced butt-head monkey-brain! I finally get the one thing that I've been waiting for, that I've wanted, an' you, you-... It's my fucking birthday, and you still-" Ichigo said loudly, voice getting tighter as he grew more distressed, "You know I've been waiting for this day, but you still had ta' fucking ruin things like always by being such a complete fucktard!"
Renji sputtered something along the lines of not even knowing what the hell that meant, but Ichigo kept going, feeling the crumminess he felt on the inside start to creep across his face and into his words. Maybe it was cruel and childish, but Ichigo doesn't even care what he was saying. He just wanted to hurt Renji back, make him feel as shitty as he did – because it's not fair, it's just not fair. He's waited so long, they've both tried so hard...
"I fucking hate when you do this, Renji, I fucking hate it, an' I thought for sure you wouldn't do it today, because you know how long... how-!" Ichigo's throat closed up inconveniently and ignored the way Renji's hands had stalled, gone still against him. "Fuck you, Renji," he grit out, "Why da' you have to-" He cut off then, his voice wrenched tight and hot, "Why do you-"
Renji dragged him up sharply then, and Ichigo got a flash of his face, contorted by guilt and horrified surprise that things had taken such an unexpectedly awful turn, before he was pressed into his bare and still feverish chest. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Ichigo, not caring about much else but hiding his face for the few moments it would take to shove all that messy shit back inside, just burrowed his head against Renji's pectoral – because it doesn't fucking count if your eyes are shut or if no one looks at you, and it definitely doesn't count if you don't think the words.
It didn't count, and if Renji's nipple was pressed against his eyeball or if he was sniffling a little from a runny nose or swallowing through a sore throat, no one had to know.
"I'm sorry. No, hey, shh. Shhh-sh-sh." Renji hefted him up a little bit more and held his sweaty head against his shoulder, and Ichigo just let him, sniffing and letting the lingering rush of hormone-driven emotional response filter out of him. It didn't count, it's just because he got worked up after he came. He's got a lot of weird shit running around in his blood and wreaking havoc right now. He's definitely not- like-… No, he's not. Never mind if Renji would only feel that bad that he'd apologize like that and hold him if he was.
When he was sufficiently assured that his voice won't betray him, he croaked grumpily, "You suck."
"I know."
"You suck." Ichigo sniffed grossly and wiped at his leaky nose, feeling sulky and embarrassed. "Dang you, Renji."
"I know, Ichigo, I know. You're right. 'M sorry."
"Why'd you do that?"
"I dunno'," Renji sighed, peeling Ichigo off of him and ducking a bit to try and check him, but Ichigo scrubbed at his eyes and told him to fuck off for a minute, don't look at him, god, stop- "I dunno.' I dunno' what's wrong with me," Renji muttered miserably, resting his chin atop Ichigo's sweat-stiff hair, giving Ichigo enough time to wipe his nose and eyes like he was erasing a mark with one of those shitty erasers that just smudged the mark in worse. "I keep freakin' myself out."
"Today was the day when you were supposed to be over this," Ichigo grumbled, breaking away from Renji and flopping onto his back, arms thrown over his face. Now that things had calmed down a bit, he was starting to feel sort of embarrassed for that little blip that he was not going to acknowledge had ever happened, because he doesn't- doesn't, uhhh… It's not like he thought Renji was gonna' make fun of him or that he was ashamed of it, he just… It didn't fucking count, okay?!
Renji gave a long sigh and eased down next to him on his side, head resting on one hand. "I guess it's still hangin' around. Didn't mean ta' flip my bricks like that... I just..." He picked at the bedding and didn't look at Ichigo, who lay there and peeked through the gaps in his arms until the air didn't feel cold around his eyes anymore.
"…"
He let Renji fidget for a while, until finally, he came out with it on his own, defensively. "You're just so much younger than-"
Ichigo let out a long exasperated groan, because he was not going to discuss this again. He can't believe Renji's still bothered by that, even now that he's of age. "Renji, I swear to god-"
"-I know you don't easily accept that fact, but-"
"Enough already, I told you I don't care about age. You're the only one who's bothered by-"
"-Not the one who has to feel like a monster every second of every day-"
"-Feel like I'm the only one who's trying so hard, while you're just stressing out over-"
"Don't pull that card like I don't make any effort! You always act like you're the only one who's suffering, and it's-"
"Renji!" Ichigo finally snapped, cutting through the argument. "We've gone over all of this a billion times."
"So?" he sputtered, "That doesn't mean it's not still buggin' me! It doesn't mean I don't still think about it all the time - it doesn't fucking mean it doesn't keep me from sleeping!" Ichigo fell silent and let him finish, frowning sadly. "Maybe it doesn't matter to you that we have an age gap, and maybe it doesn't matter to you what people think about it, but it matters to me. It matters to me if they're right or not"
Ichigo calmly raised a brow. "And what if everyone in the world told you it was wrong? What if Byakuya didn't approve, huh? What if you weren't supposed to see me anymore because it was against nature or whatever? An' Ikkaku an' Rukia an' all the rest of the people whose opinions you care about, what if they all thought you were sick?" Ichigo paused almost uncertainly. "Would you give me up?"
"No, never," Renji jumped in immediately. "There's nothing that-..." He bit his lip and let his eyes drop. "Point made."
"Yeah? Good," Ichigo noted quietly, "so then let me share half a' your worries... an' try not to think like that so much."
Renji almost seemed soothed for a moment, but soon he began fidgeting again, until he finally burst. "... It's not easy, okay?" he explained hotly, "It's not easy ta' do somethin' ya've told yourself was bad n' wrong for the last forever." Ichigo let his arms rest down on his chest and eyed Renji rather reservedly. "'ts not easy ta' want somethin' you're not supposed to an' then tell yourself that you can have it if you just work hard enough, if you just be good enough." Renji's voice hitched, and Ichigo half sat up, brow scrunching, not liking how broken and lost this line of thought was becoming. "If you just wait for a long enough time-"
"Is this about the Rukia thing?"
"No, it's not that," Renji huffed, sounding frustrated more with himself than anything. He drummed his fingers against the bed, practically humming with nervous energy. "I keep wondering if I've been selfish," he admitted begrudgingly, like he knew Ichigo was going to be mad at him but still thought it anyways.
"Still?" Ichigo squeaked incredulously, because like, what the fuck? "Renji-"
"I know. Okay? I know," Renji insisted, rubbing at his eyes. "I know you've told me a thousand times, but sometimes I still think about that. It's like this thing that… just won't go away. Inside'a' me, always just sittin' around."
"Aren't you happy about this?" Ichigo asked, fumbling around with his nails, hands near his sticky belly button. "Didn't you want this too?"
"Yeah," Renji gave him a wry smile then. "ts' like'm' having this crazy dream." He pinched Ichigo's nose between his knuckles, causing him to snort and slap at his hand. "But I feel… bad." He grimaced, practically wincing around the words.
"Why the fuck- Why would you for?" Ichigo sputtered, brain scrambled. Guilt-stricken, Renji bit his tongue and his eyes flicked around almost frantically, as if he knew he'd been caught.
"Renji, is this about the age thing still? I'm twenty now, you don't have to feel bad anymore," Ichigo assured, but didn't sound confident, because he hadn't thought… he hadn't thought Renji would still have doubts after today. He'd thought his struggle of the past two and a half years and Renji's even longer ten-thousand day pains of liking him and kicking himself for it – he'd thought that was all over with. He'd thought everything would be fine now.
"No, it's not that," Renji denied, "Well… not entirely." He raised his eyes to Ichigo's almost shyly, and Ichigo had to marvel for a moment how far they'd come in being able to talk to each other, to not put up a front of surliness, gruffness, denial of feelings – it had been miles, obviously. Once, the words and emotions had been too hard to force out, but now they were simply too complex to express in words. It was a mark of those miles that instead of saying much more, Renji swallowed and reached for his hand, closing his fingers around it in a slow deliberate gesture and bringing it to his heart, letting the action tell the truth. "Ichigo, you…" He pressed Ichigo's hand there a bit more firmly, his own hand enveloping it.
Ichigo didn't dare move, feeling the broad plane of Renji's chest beneath his palm, rising and falling, warm, and pounding steadily against his flesh. "…" His breath whispered through his lips lightly, wispily.
"For me, you're…" Renji swallowed and started again, his dark red-brown eyes piercing into Ichigo's like sunlight through mesh net. "Since I've met you, everything's fallen into place. Ever since that time we got Rukia back, it's been like that. I feel... different... like I finally figured things out... It all makes sense. I know where'm' supposed to be, what I'm s'posed'a' do. Once you were gone, I knew for sure, it was you who did that. You're the one who got me to make everything right. Ichigo..." He tightened his grip on Ichigo's hand and paused momentarily in hesitation. "I don't wanna' be anywhere you're not," he confessed in a hush, and Ichigo didn't breathe.
Thoroughly pacified and completely swept off his feet, Ichigo's trance broke when Renji sharply shook his head. His words came out in a rush then, hurried and self-deprecating, angry, "I can't believe I'm tellin' you that. I've felt so fucking selfish for so long now, Ichigo, you don't even…"
"Why would you feel selfish for-" His hand twitched, out of his control, against Renji's chest, and Renji holds it there tighter, his grip enclosing Ichigo's knuckles and fingers warmly. "-Liking me?" he finished, the words cracking and choking halfway through, because they both knew what it really meant, what Renji was really saying. It was why everything inside Ichigo felt like warm glop even without the real words, because they both knew. It was this stupid game they played, even now, after making those miles. They had these rules of not saying it straight out. They'd done this dance since the first day, when Renji had told Ichigo he would miss him if he left, but never that he didn't want to be apart, not 'don't go', not 'I don't want you to leave,' not 'stay, please.' Only the suggestion was allowed, the insinuation, the feeling but not the words.
But they've never been good at following rules for very long.
Renji's voice came out low then, like he was telling a secret that even now he didn't want to let out, wanted nothing more than to hide forever from Ichigo, keep it away, shameful, hide it, never let it see the light of day- "Every time you go to the Living World…" He let his eyes drop and cleared his throat, continuing in a soft rasp, "I get freaked out that you might wanna' stay there – I've thought about that ever since the first day I told you… you know what I told you." Ichigo nodded. Renji grit his teeth and screwed his eyes shut like he was awaiting the blow of what he was about to say. "Well, every time I get freaked out like that, I think of all these ways I could convince you ta' stay here, an' I fucking hate myself for it."
"Aw, no," Ichigo comforted.
"Fuck, I can't believe I'm telling you- … Look, it's messed up, I know it is, an' I tell myself not ta' get in your way, not to try an' keep you in Seireitei."
"With you," Ichigo whispered, eyes widening, his fingertips pressing into Renji's skin until he was able to feel his own pulse along with the heavy drum-beat.
"I hate when you go." Renji let out a huff of a laugh. "But then when you're here an' I see you missing home – and shut it, I know you get homesick!" he cut Ichigo off before he could speak to deny it, and it was a good thing he had, because Ichigo had already opened his mouth do so. They knew each other too well. Ichigo let his mouth close with a glare, and Renji smirked a bit wryly. "Ichigo, seein' what you do, how you look at me, how you waste your young life," Renji sighed tiredly, frowning, "I just feel like shit. I feel like the most selfish man alive."
"No one's made my choices but me, Renji," Ichigo countered, and if his voice was a bit harsh, it had been meant to be firm, because he felt like Renji listened to him best if stayed calm but still sounded like he knew what he was talking about.
Renji talked through what he said, closing his eyes, as if conceding to Ichigo's point, "But whenever I felt like that, I'd tell myself I'd work harder, I'd get stronger, 'till I deserved ta' be selfish." Ichigo grimaced, letting it turn into a smile halfway through, because that was so like Renji, letting his guilt and shame and insecurity motivate him. It was sort of amazing how he used the worst thing about him to drive the best thing about him, which was his determination, his discipline, loyalty, his never-give-up-ness.
"Ya' know when I talked about carryin' you?" Renji mumbled, his head resting on his upper arm, his hand dangling over his own ear. Ichigo's own cheek lay on the crook of his elbow, wrist under his head, but he nodded, his itchy stiff hair making a noise like tall dry grass brushing against running legs. He was glad he'd gotten Renji talking, because as much as the big dope sometimes fought it, he always felt better afterwards. "I don't wanna' carry you, Ichi."
Ichigo met his eyes curiously, and let Renji play with the salt-coarse hair of his sideburn, scratching at it with one finger, the way he always did. "I wanna' see you do it all on your own, because when yer' proud a' yourself, it's a sight," Renji hummed, eyes warm and smiling as if he were imagining it, before they became sad again. "I wanna' see you have everything you want. I don't want you ta' hold yourself back because of me. I don't want you ta' miss out on things. Even things that a crazy human kid's gotta' do that I can't be a part of." He put his hand to Ichigo's cheek, rubbing the delicate skin beneath his eye, and Ichigo let his free hand rest on Renji's elbow, weighing his arm down.
"No matter how badly it'd hurt ta' repeat the past an' let you go your own way, I'd be so much happier ta' see you doin' what you want."
That was all wonderfully tragic and selfless, but- "Renji-"
"Because for you, I… I just…" Renji let his mouth close and looked at Ichigo for a time, letting go of his hand. It stayed there on his chest, but was chilled and looser without the warm grasp to hold it there. "You do somethin'a' me."
And Ichigo got it, he got it better than he'd ever gotten anything else. The guilt and the selfishness and the desire to see him fly, but the pain at his loss, the wondering, the torturous thought of what if he'd decided the other way and gone home in the first place, the horrible wondering of whether he'd altered Ichigo's life somehow, kept him from having that fucking sandcastle- if he'd wrecked it for him, if he'd stolen him from someone else, if he'd hurt him or fucked him up in the head – but the overwhelming urge to seize him and hold him close despite all this, because after everything, after all the shit and the waiting and the fighting, the danger and the near loss of life, didn't they deserve a little happiness, a little comfort, something that felt right in the moment- couldn't they make it work, couldn't that be good enough, just as equally beautiful and wonderful as the sandcastle life with the fence and the kids and the wife that looked so eerily, horribly similar – a heartbreaking parallel that wasn't quite perfect, but almost?
Couldn't it be just as good, just as nice, to rip that parallel to strips, to start over fresh with something new and crazy, no matter the price, no matter how selfish it was in some aspects – wasn't it just wonderful and marvelous in others? In the rest? Maybe on the whole? When it came down to it, was that really selfish at all? Did that amazing thing that Renji was talking about that was making Ichigo feel this happy, did that thing really make Renji a monster? Did it make any sense for them to fight it?
Wasn't that what life, what growing up was about – figuring out shit, testing, going with what feels right, what makes you happiest? Wasn't it time to do something that was just theirs? Something special, just for Ichigo, just for Renji, and no one else?
And Ichigo got it. He got the sad and guilty and satisfied look in Renji's eyes, the resigned look, the relieved and happy look, the wild fragile curious glint there in his eyes. He got it and he cherished it, wanted to hold onto it, no matter how fleeting, because Renji does something to him too. And he gets it.
"Yeah," Ichigo rasped, fingers curling into Renji's heart.
"D'you get what'm' sayin'?"
"Yeah." Ichigo swallowed and tried to smile. "Thanks for the honesty," he half-teased, and wished they'd had this conversation years ago. Renji gave a dry laugh, sidling closer to him and slinging a leg over Ichigo's hip, snuggling his head up to his with a long rumbling sigh.
"Thanks for the reassurance. Don't feel so shitty anymore."
"Good, that was the goal."
"How'd you know this was the right decision, huh?" He rested his cheek on Ichigo's head, his voice buoyant enough to significantly lighten the mood and Ichigo's heart. "Or didja' just go with it without thinkin' much?" That was only half a joke, and Ichigo could hear the underlying trepidation in the words, could feel the slight tensing of Renji's arm where it lay between them.
"Me for you," Ichigo mumbled, keeping his eyes shut so he didn't have to look at Renji's searching probing eyes while he said it. "I knew right away. Was so easy. Feels right."
Expecting some sort of response, Ichigo ended it there, but when Renji let the silence rest for three seconds, four, he spoke again. "'ts how I know. That's how I do everything I did- Rukia, Aizen, all of it," he tried to explain. "I didn't have doubts. An' this: you feel right. So I don't worry about anything else. 'Cause I've got you ta' drag me through on your shitty back." He peeked an eye open. Renji was staring at him rather mildly, one eyebrow raised in what seemed like either thought or flat-out confusion.
"Still guilty?" he prodded.
Having completely misread, Ichigo had the breath knocked out of him in surprise when Renji seized him and rolled on top of him, kissing him with a low growl and humming onto his lips. Ichigo took a minute to blink, startled, before he began to kiss back, sighing in relief. Finally.
– again.
Once Renji had thoroughly turned his tongue to rubber, he popped their mouths apart with a wet smack, and then panted, "You sure you're sure?"
"Renji!"
"Okay, okay, I'm only messin' with you," Renji laughed. "Promise that was the last time I'll bring it up." He kissed at Ichigo's sideburn, then his ear. "Sorry I fucked up your birthday." Ichigo would've bopped Renji on the head for apologizing for something yet again, but instead turned on the charm that he knew he had but his insecurity and shyness usually kept inside.
Quirking his lip up and letting his eyebrows loosen, he suggested rather tentatively, "Well… it's not over yet."
Renji smiled a little in disbelief, as if he thought Ichigo was pulling his leg. It was understandable, considering Ichigo didn't usually try and act sexy - apparently Renji liked it, if his incredulous grin was anything to go by. Testing the waters, as if he thought too heavy a reciprocation would scare Ichigo off, Renji hesitantly mumbled, "I'll have to make it up to you then," his head popping up, eyes brightening. Ichigo smiled more, causing Renji to give a grin and a gusty sigh. "Ugh. Sorry my dumb hangups wrecked the last couple years. We coulda' had longer."
"I haven't had any regrets," Ichigo noted thoughtfully, twisting his lip. "No matter how crazy I got because a' you," he muttered, which made Renji hum.
"I dunno', I stretched this out for so long, an' now that it's time, it doesn't feel real." He rubbed the tip of his nose on Ichigo's, dodging when Ichigo tipped his head up like he would try to bite him. Ichigo grinned when Renji darted back. "It should, but… it doesn't…" Renji ghosted his hands down Ichigo's sides with a frustrated and shuddery breath.
"Ichigo, it's been so hard," he whispered, his lips just above Ichigo's, "I know you don't think it was for me, but it fucking was." He grit his teeth and lay still, relishing the small space between their mouths, the breath rolling back and forth through them. "Every damn day."
Some of the greatest thrills and woes of Ichigo's life in the past few years were when Renji would go on the rare excursion of admitting some of what he felt, some of what he wanted to do – which explained why Renji's heartfelt confession a few minutes back had turned him to melted butter. Usually Renji would keep his sexual and romantic desires locked up, because it wasn't right to say that shit to a kid, to come on too strong like that to a kid, but sometimes Renji would break and it would all come pouring out, and it would give Ichigo the biggest and most wonderful scare, the sharpest rush of excitement –
"I see you an' I want ya' ta' jump inna' my arms so I can love you like mad," Renji breathed, and Ichigo felt himself getting hot all over again. Nothing gets him like Renji does when he talks like this. "It's been so hard," he croaked, eyes yearning and dark, his tongue slowly dragging along his lips and prompting a mirror reaction from Ichigo, "It's been so hard tryin'a' hold myself back."
"Then don't," Ichigo whispered.
Renji broke immediately, whatever thread of hesitation or resistance that was keeping him at bay giving in like water through paper – he melted onto him like he didn't know how he'd ever lived without doing this, how he'd ever breathed when the air hadn't been shared between them.
Their movements were slower this time – Ichigo wound a leg through Renji's, and Renji grabbed it, pulling it further through until they slid together as smoothly and snugly as interlocking chainlinks. Renji held Ichigo's face in his hands, palms against his cheeks to better kiss him, and Ichigo's hands went to Renji's lower back, bringing his hips closer, more firmly against his own. They rock together and gasp, grunt, groan, and Ichigo's hands were everywhere, scrabbling, gripping, relishing the feeling of muscles that were hard but still fleshy enough that they had a little give, enough to squeeze. Renji heaved and shuddered with it, kissing him, his breath whining through his nose.
"You can touch me," Ichigo gasped, drawing back only enough to be able to use his tongue and talk against Renji's wet mouth, still mostly kissing him. "Touch me, Renji. C'mon, You're s'posed'a' be tha' one who knows what he's doin'."
As if having been waiting to be prompted to do such, Renji rolled onto him with an eager surge of his torso and hips, pinning Ichigo beneath him and ravishing his mouth enough that Ichigo's eyes fell closed again with a sigh. "Ahh, Ichigo," Renji moaned, rocking his arousal against Ichigo's thigh, their legs interlocked, "Ichigo."
"What?" he breathed back, rubbing his hard dick against Renji's hip with frantic yet uncertain thrusts.
"Hold onto me." And he does, and they kissed until Ichigo's head spun and flipped and reeled, and everything was warm and tingly. Renji's hands ran over him, never staying in one spot too long, as if he was indecisive about which part to touch and grab first, which he wanted the most. Everywhere they went, they left warm trails behind.
Breaking apart with a heady breath, Renji slid a hand down between them and took Ichigo's cock in hand, cupped the bulge that had been hastily tucked away, and pulled it back out to join his own. Renji pressed their cocks together and gripped them in one warm strong hand, stroking them slowly in a tight grip.
"Renji?"
"Haah?" Renji's voice echoed slightly, his mouth hollowed out as Ichigo bit at his lip and let his tongue back into his mouth. Renji gave a dry sob as Ichigo tried sucking at it as Renji sometimes did to him. His grip around their cocks stalled and clenched, squeezing almost unbearably tight, before haltingly beginning again, the rhythm jerky and distracted.
"Next time you start feeling guilty?"
"Yeah?" Renji replied, a bit more lucidly, but still mostly occupied with kissing at Ichigo's lips and cheek, eyes slipping closed.
"I'm gonna' punch you in the balls."
Renji's eyes opened, and he gave Ichigo this look, and suddenly they were both laughing, and kissing, rolling over until Ichigo was mostly on top. They laughed and panted as Renji's grip around their erections grew more insistent, his motions more focused.
They kiss until they're more just gasping onto each other's lips, and Ichigo doesn't know how they ever stayed apart, doesn't know how they ever waited a day in their lives, how they ever survived away from each other. He didn't want to know another day where he couldn't touch Renji, where he couldn't have this.
Afterwards as they lay there together, a panting sweaty mess, Ichigo let his eyes rest closed and just breathed, exhausted and loose all over. Renji tried to pick himself up – at some point they'd rolled again and Renji had ended up lying on Ichigo. Every muscle shaking and trembling, Renji lifted himself off of Ichigo, but his shoulders buckled under his own weight. Hair trailing against Ichigo's cheek, he looked down into Ichigo's eyes and gasped out huskily, "Fuck." He swallowed and gave a half-drowned delirious laugh. "Fuck, I think I love you."
"Hah," Ichigo hummed, smirking tiredly. "Sucker," he laughed.
"Pff'!" Renji sputtered, all the air he had left in his body rushing out of his puffed cheeks in an amused burst of laughter. And it was fucking hilarious, because they both knew Renji had already told him that shit for real like three years ago, and that saying the words out loud like that now was a joke, like loving taiyaki or dogs or tacky sunglasses. The real words, the real feeling had already been shared a long long time ago when he'd once asked Ichigo if he knew, if he knew what he was trying to say, what he was saying but wouldn't say, couldn't articulate but could perfectly convey somehow anyways –
Ichigo just smiled and smiled, because he knew. Yes, he knew.
Renji snorted again. "Changed my mind," he mumbled amusedly, laying himself down next to Ichigo, body heaving with still calming breaths.
"Oh yeah?"
"Mm." Renji leaned towards him to place a kiss on his lips, intended to be a simple peck but inevitably melting into something harder to break, harder to stop. It didn't end until they were wrapped up together again, gross and slimy and sweaty and smiling. Renji's hands rested at Ichigo's back, Ichigo resting atop Renji from toes to chest, his head lifted to gaze down into his face.
"Good birthday?" Renji grinned, and didn't even complain when Ichigo dug his elbows – pointy bony stabby elbows, as he often grumbled – right into his meaty chest, supporting his head with his hands. "Now that you've had your way with me?" he teased.
"Now that you've stopped bein' a whiney baby, you mean?" Ichigo raised an eyebrow as Renji let out a mock-offended breath, like he couldn't believe Ichigo's sass. Renji rolled him over onto his back, held above him by his arms, his wild and messy hair dangling down around them.
"You won't be talkin' so big once I make you a man." Ichigo gave him an unimpressed look, but couldn't hide the goosebumps on his neck, which just made Renji smirk widely and lean down to his ear.
"I am a man," he mumbled petulantly. "'m twenty. Man."
"That's what you think. Just wait 'till I have my way. Only thing you'll be sayin' is my name on endless loop. Oh, Renji, you're so good, do it again," he imitated, nuzzling his ear.
Ichigo snorted. "You talk a lotta' talk, big mouth." Renji smiled back, that smile he always did when he thought Ichigo was funny, strange, hard to understand but amusing for it - the smile that contained those perfectly encapsulated words that didn't need to be said and the feelings that didn't need to be explained.
"I'll show you a big mouth."
Best. Birthday. Ever.
. . .
I love everything you do - when you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do.