I close my eyes and see you before me, think I would die if you were to ignore me. A fool could see just how much I adore you. I'd get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you.
. . .
Ichigo has about ten months to go until he'll turn twenty. It's the home-stretch.
Even so, he was still holding out some hope that he might get out of this thing early. He felt like he'd spent all of age eighteen angsting that he couldn't change Renji's mind. Tempting Renji and testing his patience didn't do a goddamn thing, and yelling at him about it just made Ichigo feel bad. He'd given up on all that awhile ago.
Renji was still being way too stubborn about their age gap. Ichigo thought it was completely stupid. I mean, he understood why Renji thought the way he did, and if he was in Renji's position, he knew he might think differently, but the position he was in was that of a horny teenager who at this point would be satisfied with something simple like a milkshake date – god, anything! Something!
Yeah, Ichigo still thought it was stupid.
He'd saved the world how many times now? I mean, come on – he's been a soldier of the undead and been practically gutted a bunch of times, he'd gone through so much, and Renji didn't think he could handle sex? A relationship? It's stupid.
Still, the last time they'd talked about it, Renji had still been holding viciously onto the dumbass point of: 'I'm like a billion years old, and you're a baby, shut the fuck up, I'll fuck you when I want to.' Ichigo thought you could use that point like once in an argument and then you're done, but Renji loved that one. It's hard to follow up, and usually ends the discussion.
Ichigo got it. Sort of. Didn't mean he liked it.
The last time they'd had that argument, Ichigo had left Seireitei angry again, and things had been strained ever since. For one, Ichigo had been spending more time in the Living World helping his dad out, visiting with Orihime and Uryu, and namely, sulking. He didn't go to Seireitei as often. It's been hard. He just hated going there and not knowing for sure if Renji even… felt that way anymore… y'know? These days, it was like Renji either wouldn't look at him, or if he did, he stared right through him, or glared.
It completely sucked. Back when he'd been eighteen, they'd both just pretended they didn't like each other when the truth was that they liked each other madly… Ichigo didn't know if the change from then to now was welcome or not.
Whereas before, despite Renji pretending otherwise, Ichigo could still tell Renji wanted him and liked him because one of the following signs: erection, flushed cheeks, spoony sometimes sweet behavior – now, now there was none of that. Renji had all of that on lock down. For the last two or three months, things had been really weird; bad.
Ichigo remembered the talk they'd had a few months after he'd turned eighteen about how badly he hated pretending and that he didn't want to wait like this anymore, that he didn't like being apart – and even though Renji hadn't been willing to budge just yet and it had been discouraging, there hadn't been any doubt that Renji… y'know, cared. Renji had comforted him, reassured him that it was only two years; they'd make it, they would.
Now Ichigo just didn't know. Renji's been an asshole to him for a while now, and they haven't mentioned this thing between them for a long time. Ichigo hadn't wanted to start a fight, so he hadn't tried, but that hadn't helped. They've been at each other's throats more and more.
Last time Ichigo had been in Seireitei, he hadn't been able to take it anymore, and they'd had this big fight – not even a fight, that would've been better. It had been an argument – and Renji had told him to just fuck off home, and Ichigo had. He'd spent the last few weeks upset and hurt that Renji had sent him away, and he hadn't come back to Soul Society for longer than usual. That'll make Renji sorry.
He's had a lot of free time here, on his own, and he'd been thinking a lot. Actually, tearing himself apart was more accurate. He'd had some really insecure moments where he'd wondered if Renji didn't want to do this anymore and stopped liking him, just didn't want to deal with him at all anymore. Was it his fault this wasn't working? Was it his inexperience that was driving them apart? Probably. It probably was hard for Renji having a dumb, lovestruck, horny kid following him around, annoying him, a constant nuisance.
What if that was how Renji felt about their situation now? What if Ichigo's impatience had become too irritating, too difficult to handle? What if just being around Ichigo was what had made Renji that mad, was why he'd sent him away?
Could he just not fucking stand it anymore that he had to make Ichigo go away from him?
Would he miss Ichigo at all? When he came back, would Renji be happy to see him or just tolerant?
Ichigo couldn't stand thoughts like that. He didn't know how to voice his concerns either, because Renji didn't want to talk about it, and Ichigo was embarrassed by how young and insecure those worries were. It felt like every time he tried to open up or ask a question, he just got so angry that he fucked it up, or it came out wrong because he was too shy. Why bother – Renji wouldn't listen anyway.
They haven't been completely open about anything since shortly after that time when Ichigo had been eighteen and impatient, and Renji had gotten all… It made his skin prickle just thinking back to it.
Things have definitely gone downhill since then, now that they're not talking about things, because they're back to pretending that nothing's between them. Ichigo fucking hated pretending. Well no, it wasn't even pretending, really. They both knew what they felt for each other, and were making a conscious choice to keep each other at arm's length. It was torture. It felt pointless.
It was so hard, knowing Renji felt that way and having to sit and wait and do nothing, and now that so much time had passed – it's been almost a year since that heart-to-heart in the locker room – Ichigo didn't even know that for sure anymore. He didn't need Renji to say it every day or anything, he wasn't that insecure, but it'd been months now, and nothing, not a single sign other than clear frustration and a short temper. What if Renji had stopped liking him?
Was that why he's been such a dick? Renji's been so touchy lately, kind of quick to snap, even downright mean, and Ichigo had gotten fed up. Every time they see each other, sooner or later they have a blowout and are at each other's throats, and not in the good way. It's gotten downright nasty, to the point where Renji had actually told him to leave.
Ichigo didn't know what broke or how to fix it, how to go back to the before. He just wanted to go back. He wanted things to be how they were, when they were happy and together when everything was new, and… and innocent, before this dark heavy part had woken up within him and made him want, made him impatient, made Renji have to make an impossible choice to either hate himself or hold Ichigo back.
It's all Ikkaku's fault. Fucking Ikkaku.
Ichigo sighed. He missed Renji. He just wanted to see his dopey face, y'know? He just wanted to be with him; they don't even have to talk. He just wanted them to be together without this tense monstrous thing being there. Even just for a minute.
He wished he could talk to Rukia about it, but she was so busy, and besides, she hadn't been helpful the last time he'd asked, because she'd agreed that once Renji had put his foot down like that, he wouldn't change his mind. There wasn't any point in arguing. If Renji wanted to stop things and keep a distance between them, there was just no point.
Ichigo just didn't know. He'd felt so lost and confused and frustrated lately that he didn't know what to do. He'd gotten so desperate that he'd actually gotten some outside advice – from the strangest, most unreliable source out there when it came to decision making, the embodiment of destruction, the forces of impulse, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.
And you know, not bad. As long as you're okay about getting relationship tips from the dirty tricks department.
The principle of his advice was all right, y'know, going for it, taking what you want – all good in theory – but Ichigo wasn't exactly sure how that would work in real life. With how tense his friendship has been with Renji lately, Ichigo didn't know if it could take a wrong move right now.
After sitting on the advice for a few months though, Ichigo was just so tired that he was willing to try anything. Even laying an ambush seemed better than enduring this animus a day longer.
. . .
Ichigo had finally gotten the stones to show his face back in Seireitei, and Renji had avoided him for the whole time he'd been here so far. Go figure.
When he'd arrived back a few days ago, Renji had greeted him nonchalantly and offered to put him up as usual, but they hadn't spent a lot of time together since then, since Renji had a lot of work to do. Ichigo was starting to think that Renji was just slaving away of his own accord and that it wasn't Byakuya's doing anymore. He didn't voice this suspicion however, too busy playing this carefully orchestrated game of avoiding each other and keeping the peace – balancing on a beam. It seemed easy when close to the ground, but so far from the place you love, so high above the earth, when any mistake could send you hurtling towards certain death… yeah, Ichigo wasn't eager to start a fight.
Ichigo had asked when they could hang out after knocking on Renji's office door frame halfway through the second day, and Renji purported that he was behind or something, and had a bunch of stuff to do – ergo, they'd hang later. Renji always seemed to be behind these days. He didn't look so great either. Still, Ichigo didn't say anything about it, and instead tried to hang around Rukia's office instead. She put him straight to work, got his mind right off it all. He fucking loved Rukia.
Even so, he couldn't skirt around the thoughts completely, and soon enough, his mind would go creeping back to it. He wanted to put his plan into action, but he was so apprehensive that he didn't think he could do it.
Renji avoided Ichigo, and Ichigo avoided Renji right back. Each time they crossed paths, Ichigo would get so unbelievably and irrationally scared that Renji was going to tell him that it just wasn't working, that this couldn't go on anymore, that Ichigo just shut down and decided it was better not to push.
He just wanted to know what was wrong. He wanted to fix what had gone wrong so that Renji would like him again, so that he would spend time with him again without it hurting, without every second feeling like if one of them breathed wrong, it'd all be over. It wasn't just them he was worried about either, he was worried about Renji. Why did he look so damn tired and worn out all the time? Did Ichigo look like that? Why didn't Renji want to see him? Was he being busy on purpose, just because he'd come back? So he'd have an excuse?
When Rukia could no longer stand him and sent him away, Ichigo fought Kenpachi to distract himself and unwind. Yeah, unwind. That's how tense he was.
Afterwards when he was hanging around Squad Eleven in excruciating pain, Ikkaku mentioned that Renji'd had some rough nights lately. Even Rukia had said that Renji was acting like a sad sack. When Ichigo heard that, he knew that it was time for a confrontation. No more being a chicken shit; who the fuck cared if everything got wrecked if it meant he'd have to keep enduring this hell? He hated not being able to talk to Renji, to not be around him. He was fucking doing something about this.
Grimmjow's first course of action: approach and provoke. Or better yet, lay an ambush. If that didn't work, use the secret weapon!
Ichigo translated that to mean that he had to wait for the right time to initiate a conversation, and if the right time didn't come, he could try ticking Renji off enough that he would spill his beans and be willing to talk, or well, holler back and forth. Even that was preferable to Renji's stone-faced silence.
So Ichigo walked to Division Six, gathering his courage by getting himself mad, figuring that'd make things easier. He'd be less nervous. After standing outside Renji's office doorway for a few minutes, rocking back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels, he then realized that Renji could probably sense his reiatsu, considering how worked up and antsy he was. He hastily knocked on the doorframe and walked in. Renji glanced up, but continued working, writing slowly with his brush.
"Yo, what's up with you?" he called, getting straight to the point.
"You need something?" Renji said with a frustratingly neutral tone, which pretty much made Ichigo feel like coming here and grilling Renji was the right decision. He couldn't take one more fucking day of this shit.
"Yeah," he raised his voice, causing Renji to finally pick his head up and look at him. "I wanna' know what your problem is."
"What're you talking about?" Renji sighed, brow scrunching, and Ichigo knew that they'd hardly talked since he'd arrived so Renji probably thought he hadn't had time to tick Ichigo off yet, but he couldn't be more wrong there.
"Why're you all…" Ichigo made some nondescript gestures. He sighed then when Renji seemed to wither and give up with pretending nothing was wrong. He looked so goddamn tired.
"Somethin' goin' on?" Ichigo voiced a bit more quietly, leaning against the wall by the door, arms crossed.
"I've had a tough week, okay?" Renji mumbled defensively, as if to say Ichigo was making it that much tougher. "Now get off my ass." Wow, he couldn't have made it any clearer that Ichigo was unwelcome around him. Probably the only way to get clearer than that was to tell him to leave like he had last time.
"The fuck, Renji?" Ichigo furrowed his brow incredulously. Renji was already gonna' just…
Renji narrowed his eyes at him, his hand clenched on his brush, wrists resting on his desk. "Go," he ordered sharply.
What the fuck, he'd fucking said it! "Are you throwing me out?" Ichigo gaped. "What, you don't wanna' see me? It's been ages now and you're still mad?" Renji eased back in his chair a bit, seeming to be biting his tongue.
"I'm working," he grit out.
"Talk to me," Ichigo demanded, coming towards Renji's desk and putting his hands on the edge, which made Renji lean back with a frustrated sigh. "Why're things like this? Why can't you just-"
Renji put a hand to his temple, eyes closing. "Look, I'm tired. I can't do this right now."
"Do what? Have a conversation?"
"I can't deal with you." Renji slapped a hand to his desk, giving Ichigo a long-suffering look. "Just go."
" Deal with me?" Ichigo shouted, "What the fuck is your problem?!" Renji refused to raise his voice to match his, probably wary of his captain being somewhere around here, ready to write him up for disorderly conduct in the workplace. Ichigo was exempt for some reason, and he didn't give a damn right now if he got Renji in trouble.
"Ichigo, I don't wanna' fight right now, just lay off."
"Not until you tell me what crawled up your ass and died," Ichigo snapped, tempted to flip Renji's stupid desk. "You're gonna' tell me why you can't look at my face."
Renji pointedly rolled his head back, giving him a pointed sarcastic look and raising one of his thick eyebrows. Ichigo nodded satisfactorily.
"Thank you. Now tell me why you're bein' an asshole."
Renji's carefully blank face scrunched in a snarl and he finally shoved himself back from his desk and stood up, getting in Ichigo's face. "Fuck you ."
"Get mad if you want, you're gonna' fucking talk to me, Renji," Ichigo said loudly.
"What if I don't?" he hissed.
"Then I'll beat it out of you," Ichigo growled, trying his hardest to sound sinister, glaring.
"Fine," Renji sighed in exasperation. "You wanna' fight, I'll give you a fight."
They tear up the yard – Ichigo would be surprised if Byakuya didn't tear up their asses at some point after all this. There were unseated members of Renji's squad watching, and it couldn't be good for him, because Renji wasn't fighting well. Usually being angry improved Renji's technique, impassioned him, but today he was slow, sloppy even.
After ten half-hearted minutes on Ichigo's part and five or so of Renji growing more and more enraged, Ichigo finally called, "What's wrong with you? Why're you being like this?!" Renji just snarled and pushed harder, whipping the coils of his shikai towards Ichigo, who'd fought it too many times for it to pose a challenge anymore. Renji wasn't even really trying despite how pissed he was getting.
"Why won't you just talk to me? You used to be able to do that," Ichigo huffed frustratedly, brow scrunching. Renji grit his teeth and then dialed back, one foot shifting in retreat.
No... No way... He wasn't gonna' run, was he? He wasn't that determined to avoid this that he'd turn and go, was he?
"Renji," Ichigo said, heart crumbling as he held a hand out to him – why, to stop him? To tell him that every part of him had frozen with the sudden scream of don't go, don't go, don't walk away from this.
Renji shook his head and backed up, and Ichigo's hand fell.
"You should just go back."
Ichigo stared after him, sword hanging limply from his hand as he watched Renji turn and walk away, his head, usually held up pridefully, hanging low in shame.
. . .
After heading apart, Ichigo wandered around during the night to avoid going over to Renji's to sleep for as long as possible. He thought and ached and sat on the rooftops looking at the moon until he couldn't bear it anymore, and he trudged back.
When he got there, sliding the door open and coming in as quietly as he could, he looked around. No one was in the front room; Renji was already in bed then. Sighing in simultaneous relief and disappointment, Ichigo headed to Renji's cupboards and sat awake miserably with a roll, occasionally gnawing at it.
He'd hoped that coming back to Seireitei would've helped, that they would've been able to get through whatever this was, but maybe… maybe things wouldn't work out after all. They'd always fought, but… this had been going on for so long now. If they didn't fix things soon, they might have a falling out, or worse, passively drift apart. Ichigo put the heel of his hand to his brow, clenching his eyes shut and sighing. The frustration was wearing on him; it seemed like the more he reached out, the more things got worse. Renji was pulling away. He just didn't understand why.
Ichigo didn't know why they were pretending. He didn't see the point when they both knew what this was really about. He just didn't know what he'd done wrong to make Renji stop liking him, to make him want Ichigo to go away. What had he done? What could he have done differently to keep this from happening? God, Renji was going to leave him, wasn't he. Not that they were together, but, you know. Ichigo bit his lip and dug his palms into both eyes, sniffing. Fuck, he didn't want Renji to leave him.
Ichigo's throat hurt. He just didn't know why this was happening. Renji… he really…
He knew that it had to be him; he knew this was right. Ichigo's heart did the heart thing around Renji. You know: jumps, flips, squeezes.
Loves. Hurts.
Ichigo was fairly sure that it was over. He didn't want it to be over.
He sniffed again and cleared his throat, feeling miserable . . . He didn't know what to do.
Apparently Renji hadn't been in bed yet after all, because as Ichigo was about to put his head down on the table in drowsiness, there were footsteps in the corridor, and Renji came into the house with a clatter of the door that was startling after so long in the dim quiet of the empty house.
Ichigo picked his head up and stared back into Renji's wide eyes and baleful face. Maybe he hadn't expected Ichigo. Suddenly embarrassed and feeling unwelcome, Ichigo wondered if maybe he shouldn't have come here. He felt stupid now - they'd fought earlier, of course he wasn't welcome. He hadn't been thinking.
"You're back," Ichigo finally said customarily when neither of them spoke for a long time, just staring at each other.
Renji unfroze, his expression hardening. "M'home," he responded flatly, finally moving over to eat something, a glass of sake and a sweet bread. Ichigo watched him as he fumbled around and then headed to a sitting cushion on the floor and took his sandals off, rubbing his feet.
Neither of them said anything, and Ichigo sat there sadly, wishing he knew where they stood. He knew he ought to say something, but this moment felt too fragile, too easily broken. It felt like everything was at stake and he was taking a chance on wrecking his entire world. Ichigo swallowed and licked his lips as he watched the dark line of Renji's uniformed shoulders shrugging and stretching within the confines of his shihakushou as he worked the knots out of his back that he'd acquired from sitting in his office for too long. Ichigo wouldn't have been surprised if he'd gone back there after they'd separated earlier that day.
It was so quiet that he could hardly take it, the type of quiet that made you feel bad about moving, lest you make a noise with your clothes or your breath and break it, draw attention to yourself. Ichigo wanted to scream, to shatter this thing that was choking him and holding him hostage. God, would Renji just look at him?
Ichigo watched Renji's back for a long time, listening to the sounds of him chewing, and slowly turned back around, staring at the otherwise empty table and letting his fingers rest there. He took a deep breath.
Step one was wait for the right moment. If it doesn't come, make it yourself.
"… You wanna' tell me what happened now?" His voice almost seemed to echo as it penetrated the thick silence.
After an uncomfortably long period in which no response came and Ichigo began to curse himself and bite the inside of his mouth, finally there came a single solitary, "No," which sounded off and then died.
Ichigo sighed quietly, and fidgeted, his nails scraping the wood of the table as he scratched at it. He swallowed hard as Renji sat in silence for a moment, both of them trying to hear the other, listening to their nonresponse, their tense nonreaction.
"I don't even know why the fuck you're here, Ichigo."
". . ."
Ichigo's throat tightened up to an almost uncontrollable and scarily narrow circumference, and his eyes... shit. 'Fine,' he thought, 'Fine.' He tried to swallow and took a few unsettled breaths, before standing up from the table.
"… Whatever," he whispered, because that was all his voice could manage. "Go away then." He went and laid down on the futon Renji had put out for him, closing his eyes.
He tried not to think about the asshole on the other side of the kotatsu with his stupid sweet bread and his shitty attitude. Ichigo didn't see any point in staying here past tomorrow morning. Renji couldn't make what he wanted any clearer. Fuck it if Ichigo was going to keep getting crushed like this. Ichigo would go stay at Rukia's and then go home later. This whole thing would be over with.
If that was what Renji wanted.
Ichigo clenched his eyes shut and shoved his head on his pillow, biting the inside of his cheek. His throat really hurt.
Renji didn't leave the room immediately. Ichigo, as much as he tried not to pay attention, as much as he tried to ignore Renji's every move, he could hear him stay for a while. He could hear him get up – the subtle creak of the tendons in his legs – and then his soft plod across the room to put his cup on the counter – a soft clink of glass – and finally his retreat to his room.
Ichigo thought he heard the door close and then let out a rough sigh, clenching his hand in the blanket. 'Fuck,' he thought, biting his lips viciously, the pain in his throat mounting. He keeps his eyes clenched shut, because if they're shut it doesn't count.
His lip wobbled, and he bit it fiercely in punishment at its betrayal. He squeezed his eyes tight, ignoring the way they felt cold and itchy in the inner corners. It doesn't count.
He was about to punch the floor with his fist when he heard a creak, and he froze, his eyes snapping open and his breath stilling as if to be able to hear better by eliminating all other noise.
The door creaked slightly and Renji stepped back. "Sorry."
Ichigo didn't breathe, listening to the echo of the quiet word, replaying it in the ensuing quiet until he almost had to wonder if he'd imagined it. He heard Renji slowly walk further into the room, and he could hear his breathing, wet and irregular, hesitant. It cut off and Ichigo practically startled at the next raw words, scraping out in a choked rasp, "That was really rotten…"
Ichigo sat up and Renji was there kneeling by his bed, his fists on his thighs, head down. Ichigo sniffed sharply and scrubbed at his eyes with his forearm, frowning hard. "Truth is," Renji mumbled, fidgeting by repeatedly letting his thumbnail flick off of his index knuckle, "…" He looked up at Ichigo, his mouth drawn in a wretched grimace. "I've really fucking missed you, asshole."
"Renji…" Ichigo swallowed and tried his hardest to hold down the sudden hot bubbling of- He blinked and blinked to fight it down. It didn't count, this was a dusty room!
"I thought maybe…" Renji looked down at his spread knees, his voice slow and almost timid, shamed. "I tried to," he attempted, losing his breath halfway through again. "Thought that it might pass," he eventually croaked, "if we were apart."
"…" Ichigo stared, lips parted, throat mercifully unclogging. His chest heaved in and out, his hands clenching against his legs.
"Maybe it would get easier," Renji sighed, eyes clenched shut. "But it's no good."
Ichigo frowned. He'd been livid for a second there, but… Was that really why Renji had been such a jerk? Was it possible that he felt just as helpless and clueless about this whole thing as he did? Just as emotionally stunted and childish? Was that why he'd done what he did?
"Sometimes when you're here, I almost can't stand it, but then when you're away…" Renji's fists clenched, one rising up to press against his left brow. "Well," he smiled a bit, "I don't like that even more." He swallowed rawly. "I don't like how I get… I don't like myself when I get like that."
Ichigo shifted a bit, kneeling himself across from Renji, his palms placed face down on his legs. Renji shook his head with a sigh. "I know I've been a real asshole lately. Every time you come here I'm a total dick ta' you," he raised his eyes to Ichigo, and they were sad, apologetic, so tired, "but the truth is I miss you when you're not here." He clenched his fists. "I've missed you so bad," he whispered.
Ichigo swallowed, his breath coming in short bursts.
Step two was strike. Right in the throat, Kurosaki, get him in the jugular. Make it painful.
"I…" Ichigo licked his lips, flicking his eyes to Renji's almost shyly. "I miss you too. When I go."
Renji seemed to crumple, his chest tensing as he exhaled. His eyes and mouth pulled down at the corners and his shoulders slumped. "I don't wanna' pretend anymore," he croaked, his eyes darting around Ichigo's face. "I hate this." He breathed through his nose a few times, biting on his lip. "I fucking hate this."
Ichigo swallowed and nodded.
"I dunno' what to do," Renji whispered, eyes flicking around more quickly, almost frantically, hungrily. His body tensed and strained, as if struggling to reach for Ichigo, but holding itself back. "I'm trying to do the right thing, that's all I'm tryin'a' do, but it's like the harder I try the worse it gets… I don't know what to do, I… I just don't want to pretend anymore."
"Then don't," Ichigo whispered, his heart pounding wildly. Maybe, there was still a chance... a chance that... just maybe-
"…" Renji looked back at him longingly, licking his lips and heaving with unrestrained breath. His gaze on Ichigo's face broke and flickered to the side uncertainly, guiltily.
"Just-" he coaxed, easing himself forward, inching into Renji's space.
Renji put a hand to the bridge of his nose, scrunching his face up like he was in pain. "Ichigo, don't do this to me," he grit out, "I've gotta' be able to face myself in the mirror every day. I don't know what the fuck you want me to do otherwise."
"…" Ichigo played with a loose string on the blanket Renji had put on his spare futon. "We could give it another try," he suggested hopefully, peeking an eye at Renji. "Dating, I mean. I don't see what's so hard about that?"
Renji seemed to think about it, however reluctantly, which was a start. He let out a slow breath, brow creased in a troubled frown. "Really?" He grimaced, shifting. "Ichigo, I dunno'…"
Seeing that if he pressed a bit, he might make some headway, Ichigo laid out his case. "We already spend a lot of time together anyway. Well, we did before you starting acting mental," he said flatly, and Renji had the good grace to look ashamed. "And…" Ichigo cleared his throat somewhat anxiously. "I dunno', I liked it." It was quiet for a few moments, in which Ichigo blurted, "Not the mental thing obviously."
Renji gave a huff of a laugh and put a hand to his forehead, rubbing as he did when he was stressed. "Ichigo, it might make things easier if we don't get too close." At Ichigo's punctuated dread-stricken silence, he ventured to clarify, "Not to split us up forever, I mean. Just… it might make waiting easier." Every inch of his face, from his sad eyes, to the crease next to his mouth, right down to his tensed brow screamed that he didn't want to spend another day pretending that he'd rather be anywhere other than in Ichigo's arms.
Ichigo didn't know why he hadn't seen it before. It seemed so obvious now that Renji hadn't stopped liking him. All those dark moods, all the messed-up shit he'd said, all that fighting and distance, it was so glaringly obvious that it came from Renji trying to keep them apart and then being frustrated when it hadn't gotten any easier, any less painful. And really, Ichigo knew exactly what Renji meant when he said that he couldn't stay away.
"Waiting is gonna' be tough no matter which way you split it, Renji," Ichigo noted, feeling much better at this point, more secure in the knowledge that the loyalty of Renji's heart hadn't wavered in its strength.
"I know," Renji huffed almost hysterically, "but it might not be as bad if we take a break, maybe."
He raised an eyebrow. "We've been doing the distance thing, an' it doesn't look like it's working out for you."
"Ugh, whatever," Renji grumbled, scrubbing his eyes and then giving Ichigo a put-upon and suspicious glare. "All you've done is push this thing. How am I supposed to trust that you're saying this is a good idea for the right reasons?"
"Well, you can trust me with your life, can't you?" Ichigo pointed out uncertainly, to which Renji took a breath to refute him and then after a moment let it out in defeat.
"Yeah, but-" He shook his head, "How do I trust that if I say yes to this, you won't try and jump my bones? Or tempt me and shit, you know what I mean!"
Despite himself, Ichigo smiled a bit. "Make a leap of faith?"
Renji gave him an extremely withering and skeptical look. "Thought you didn't believe in acting on faith," he muttered, eyes narrowed.
Ichigo raised his eyebrows with a deadpan expression, to which Renji briskly said, "Okay, so dating," his own eyebrows raised in a mirror response.
"You can handle that, can't you?" Ichigo drawled, starting to relax. He leaned back on his wrists and wiggled one foot in a bit of sarcastic teasing. "Or will the sight of my bare ankles drive you over the edge? Since you're so worried that if I jumped you, you wouldn't be able to resist. Perv."
"Hey!" Renji gasped defensively, seeming morally affronted but simultaneously amused that Ichigo would use that on him. "I'm not completely sex-driven like you are, you horny little monster."
"Apparently one of us has to be," Ichigo mumbled, but had the decency to blush about it. Renji snorted.
"One of us's gotta' think, that's what." Ichigo rolled his eyes.
"So dates," he prompted, getting them back on subject. He pretended to lean back casually, but inside his heart was thumping double time. Would Renji actually agree? Would he really let this happen? Ichigo had been dying for sexual gratification for a long time now, but at this point he missed Renji so badly that he'd be okay with just a kiss, with just holding hands and doing the normal dating things. As long as they weren't apart anymore, Ichigo knew that he could cope, that he could be patient like Renji wanted.
"Dates," Renji repeated stupidly, like he didn't know where this was going.
"Yeah."
"Well…" Renji tugged on his ear, looking off to the side, and Ichigo knew then that he'd won. "Maybe." He tried to contain himself, but he lit up in a grin and sat up straight, gazing at Renji eagerly. "Slow though," Renji muttered insistently when he saw his reaction.
"Yeah," Ichigo nodded, trying to fight down his grin.
"Slow."
"Fine, whatever. You suck," Ichigo sniped, but he was still grinning like a maniac. Renji had agreed!
Renji's eyes flicked to each of Ichigo's, one to the other, several times, before finally he smiled a little hesitantly and looked down. He let one of his tensely coiled hands unroll from where it rested on his thigh and reached out to place it on Ichigo's hand. Ichigo's toes curled up and he tried not to smile or visibly shudder at that familiar and long awaited warm chill. He should be over the little things by now, but he still felt his face get hot at the acknowledgement that fuck, they're holding hands.
"I guess all our usual activities are dates from now on," Renji mumbled thoughtfully, more focused on looking over Ichigo's face and carefully stroking the back of his hand. Ichigo, not wanting to play it too desperate or relieved, laid on the sarcasm, despite his inner wish to leap the foot between them and pin Renji to the floor – squeeze him in his arms and not let go.
"Those are dates?" Ichigo wondered incredulously. "Wow, you sure you don't wanna' ask my father for permission to court me, Mr. Serious?"
Renji blinked as though coming out of a daze, his smile fading. "D'you think I should?" Ichigo swatted him upside the head with a scoff. "Okay, okay," Renji snickered, ducking and holding a hand up to block his arm. "I was kidding. Mostly."
Ichigo sighed, letting his hand slip from under Renji's to grasp it more firmly. Renji squeezed back. "What're we gonna' do for ten more months?" Ichigo wondered quietly, looking up to Renji in uncertainty.
Renji just gave an uncharacteristically gentle smile, his eyes glittering with mischief. "I'll have to think."
They both smiled somewhat excitedly at each other for a minute. Ichigo squeezed Renji's hand with some deep breaths, and felt for the first time in a long time, that everything would be okay between them. Everything would turn out.
Renji sniffed a bit and laughed kind of awkwardly. "Sorry 've been a dick." He gripped Ichigo's hand a little tighter. "It's just been tough for me… I keep wondering if I've been selfish."
This is what he got for falling for the biggest martyr in history. Ichigo held Renji's hand back, smiling a bit at the floor.
Step three is to bring him down. Get him on his knees.
"Ah, don't worry about that," Ichigo brushed off, smiling. "Just as long as we're okay now, 'ts all that matters to me."
Renji's grip on his hand went rigid and Ichigo watched as his expression practically melted. "Fuck," Renji whispered wetly, staring at Ichigo for a long time. He seemed to drift towards him hesitantly, like a raccoon circling a shiny bear trap. He held up a hand like he was thinking of touching Ichigo's cheek, and then clenched it before it could touch him.
"That's gross," Renji rasped, his tone ghastly and as gloppy as melted honey, which meant Ichigo had totally got him in right in the heart-guts. Renji was a sap like that.
Ichigo snickered, unable to take it, and the tense sappy moment broke. "You started it."
Renji grinned right back, shaking his head, "You took it to another level of nasty right there." He made a mock-revolted face and pretended to throw up. "Disgusting! What'm I supposed to say ta' that mushy gooey sap?!"
"You're the one who's a mess," Ichigo sighed, smiling. He's missed this so much.
"Got me there."
They had gotten really close over the course of their playing, their eyes somewhat hooded, their breath a bit forced and loud. "Renji?" Ichigo muttered questioningly, leaning closer yearningly.
"Yeah?" Renji returned, frozen in place, but not retreating as Ichigo get closer and closer.
"I…" Ichigo moved in, swallowing. "I really…" Renji was letting him approach.
Lastly… when you have him right where you want him…
Ichigo's heart was pounding hard, every nerve ending feeling fried, like he'd been struck by lightning. Every hair stood up, and his gut was warm and wobbly, like he'd drunk strong alcohol.
"Yeah?"
He started to close his eyes, their noses brushing together. He could feel Renji's breath on his lips – their mouths were just barely touching, like the whisper of a feather, and suddenly they were kissing.
Go for the kill. Fuck him up.
Ichigo's body went slack with relief, all the tension of two years holding himself back flooding out of him in a heavy rush. He tentatively leaned into the warm seal of their lips, pressing his mouth tight onto Renji's. They were kissing, their first kiss since he'd been seventeen and his first time kissing back period.
Renji cupped his head, his hand digging through his short hair as he carefully separated them. Ichigo kept his eyes closed for a moment, leaning back in, his mouth searching. "What?" Renji's voice burst through the fog, and Ichigo's eyes blinked open. Oh right...
"I forget," he heard himself say, and he dazedly felt his mouth. He feels all… floaty.
Renji snickered a bit and flopped his head against Ichigo's – Ichigo scowled at the teasing. Hesitantly, fiddling with his nails, he muttered hopefully, "Does this mean we can…?"
Renji's eyes sparkled. "Don't rush this…" He pressed a kiss to Ichigo's forehead. "Don't rush, Ichigo…" Renji's head rested on his, and Ichigo let his eyes shut again.
"… Dating then? Gimme' something," he prodded. Renji thought quietly for a long time.
"… Probation," he reluctantly ceded. Ichigo picked his head up off of his, leaning back from him with a flat grimace. Renji reached out for him again with a whine, causing Ichigo to fend him off at the chest with his forearm.
"You're fuckin' impossible," he grumbled, causing Renji to grin widely. Fucking shit-eater.
"But I'm fun, aren't I." Ichigo glared at him and didn't say anything, leading Renji to laugh out loud. Ichigo listened to the happy relaxed sound and has never been more annoyed and endeared to someone before in his life. Renji drove him to such extremes of anger and happiness that he couldn't help but feel like this must be the… heart thing. You know, four letters, scary, exciting, so hard to say, so horribly wonderful to feel.
It must be it. He felt more human than ever with Renji, younger and newer to life than he ever has. Whenever he was with Renji, he felt like his life was… like… like this was what he was supposed to do. Ichigo holds Renji's hand tightly, their foreheads bumping together. This was what he wanted to do, where he wanted to be. His heart had always told him what was right before.
He'd never thought... he'd never thought something so amazing could happen to him. He'd never thought he'd get to feel something so beautiful.
Ichigo bit his lip a bit, swallowing, and leaned up to try to kiss Renji again, even though he knew that at this point he was pushing his luck. Renji began to draw back, smiling as he stood up, leaving his head leaning low so that he could brush noses with Ichigo for as long as possible. "We'll talk in the morning. Night." He kissed Ichigo again on the lips, very lightly, and Ichigo felt fireworks go off inside of him, like the oddly pleasurable feeling of pins and needles when an asleep foot gets blood flow back into it.
Renji smiled at him a bit more, brushing Ichigo's hair aside in a slow caress, and then headed off for bed. Ichigo smiled for a few moments, unmoving, before he changed his clothes, then practically hurled himself onto his futon, covering his lips with his hand.
Leap of faith, huh? Yeah, Ichigo didn't believe in those. That's what dumb people in love did.
He covered his head with his pillow and smiled and smiled.
. . .
Oh, I don't want anybody else. Oh no, oh no, oh no.