Ichigo's birthday had been the week before. The occasion had been spent as it usually was with his family and closest friends at the Kurosaki clinic, which had been redecorated (in pastels, much to Ichigo's horror) by a very enthusiastic Orihime. Isshin had wanted to have the party at the zoo, but that idea had been effectively nixed after it was discovered that the last time he had gone the monkeys had mysteriously gotten out of their cages and run rampant. Isshin denied the claim.
Urahara hadn't been invited, but then he really hadn't expected to be. While Isshin and Karin were aware of his and Ichigo's relationship, dear Yuzu was not, nor were his friends. Kisuke, while on the inside being a little disappointed, had nevertheless thought it better not to make his presence known let awkward questions be asked. Ichigo had protested of course, saying that Urahara was just as important to him as family and should be there…but Kisuke hadn't given in. The last thing he wanted was for Ichigo to feel uncomfortable on his birthday, which Urahara's appearance was bound to do.
Ichigo had walked away slowly after that argument, his reiatsu pulsing with some strange mix of emotions that Urahara couldn't place. He only knew that the younger man was desperately upset. Only that there were things Ichigo had left unsaid.
And so it was a week later and Ichigo hadn't come to visit him even once. Urahara had a feeling he knew what the problem was, but since the redhead wouldn't return his calls he couldn't confirm or deny his suspicions. Eventually (after the fifteenth or so call) he'd given up and decided to wait Ichigo out, knowing that the younger man was stubborn and would only come around after he'd thought things through.
Now he found himself sitting on his back porch, staring out at the lot of small trees with a cooling cup of tea that he couldn't seem to bring himself to drink and an incredibly heavy heart. Maybe he should have just given in to Ichigo's request, maybe then he wouldn't be so lonely…maybe Ichigo wouldn't be so angry at him. Maybe Ichigo wasn't angry at all. Maybe it was something else entirely. Kisuke wasn't sure. As much of a genius as he may have been, he was woefully inexperienced in the ways of love and relationships. Why didn't intelligence and common sense ever apply to these situations?!
Sighing softly, he looked down at the contents of his cup as though they held the answers to all his questions. Nothing was making sense right now…
"Why are you sitting out here all alone Kisuke?" the soft voice came from behind him, making Urahara drop his cup in surprise. The china shattered on the rocks below, tea splashing up onto Urahara's bare feet before the quiet rushed back in to meet them. Kisuke had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't even felt Ichigo come into the shop, nor had he heard it when he walked out onto the porch.
He didn't turn to look at the younger man, not wanting to see anger in those brown eyes directed at him. "I didn't feel like working," he murmured, his voice sadder than he had meant it to be. Ichigo had the innate ability to strip away his ability to hide his emotions without even having to try. "I couldn't concentrate anyway…"
The silence settled back in around them, a stifling thing rather than a comfort. The sensation was so foreign in Ichigo's company that it caused him to close his eyes against a sudden swell of sadness, biting gently at his bottom lip. There was no sound for a few moments, the atmosphere becoming so still that Urahara thought Ichigo had left. It would serve him right, he supposed.
So it was no small surprise when he felt the younger man's arms wrap around him from behind, Ichigo's body pressing a warm line against his spine, burying his face in the back of Kisuke's neck. Instantly Urahara responded, linking his fingers with the ones clutching at his shirt and leaning back into the warmth. He could feel Ichigo's heart pounding fast against him and felt his own pulse speed up in reply.
"Are you ashamed of me?" came the nearly inaudible question, muffled by Kisuke's hair.
Kisuke's heart nearly stopped, his eyebrows coming together as his misgivings were all confirmed for him. Yes…that's what he'd thought was wrong. Instead of taking Urahara's refusal to attend his birthday celebration as a way to avoid unnecessary stress, Ichigo had taken it as a sign that he was embarrassed about their relationship…not wanting others to know out of shame.
Instantly Urahara turned in Ichigo's arms, pushing their foreheads together and meeting that burning ochre stare with something less than complete confidence. There was no anger there like he had imagined, only layer upon layer of dejection and confusion. His hands came up slowly, cradling Ichigo's cheeks in his palms and running the pads of his thumbs over the delicate skin. If he had known Ichigo was this distressed he would have broken into his room days ago to remedy the situation. The thought that his young lover had been feeling this way for an entire week made something in his chest squeeze almost painfully tight.
"No, Ichigo," he said, his voice wavering slightly. "Never."
"Then why don't you want anyone to know about us?" Ichigo questioned further, his eyes opening wider as though to hold in tears. "Why are we keeping it a secret?"
It was in this moment that Kisuke realized just how inept he really was at this sort of emotional thing, how much he really didn't know. It was hard to accept that he, quite possibly the most intelligent person in the world, was an absolute maladroit when it came to the simplest human contact. He could tell you how a person would react, how they would behave under any set of circumstances…but to actually be involved in those circumstances seemed to throw him for a proverbial loop.
"I thought it would be easier for you," he tried to explain lamely, not able to pull the right words up. "I'm not the sort of person that's easy to explain. You shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable because I'm around."
He looked away, no longer able to meet Ichigo's eyes. The words were pouring out now, Kisuke unable to stop them, his usual reserve buried somewhere beneath the pain in Ichigo's voice and his own raging confusion.
"Not only are we both men but…I'm a few centuries older than you. I don't want you to have to defend yourself to others because of me--"
He was cut off by Ichigo's hand slapping itself over his mouth, the redhead drawing their gazes together again. "Shut up!" he practically growled, making Kisuke's eyes widen. Before he could respond Ichigo continued, his voice getting louder. "I don't care about any of that! Don't you think I knew what I was doing when I got into this? I'm not stupid Kisuke!"
The hand was withdrawn from his face, but Urahara didn't speak. Ichigo had that look in his eye, the one Urahara first remembered seeing in the training room beneath the shop, that resolve that could crush the world. It left him stunned, a little bewildered, a bit proud, and all together thunderstruck.
"You're always so guilty!" Ichigo persisted, shaking Urahara's shoulders. "You always think you've done something wrong! This isn't wrong Kisuke…"
Ichigo paused, his face becoming pained again. He seemed at a loss for words, as though he'd said everything he wanted to say and now couldn't think of what to do. In the end he leaned forward, pressing his hot cheek against Kisuke's shoulder, closing his eyes. A slow breath against his neck made Kisuke shiver as Ichigo's voice came out slightly broken. "This isn't wrong…"
Urahara blinked, arms now hanging loosely at his sides, mouth opening and closing a few times dumbly. When had Ichigo gotten so smart? When had he gone from a rash teenager into a mature young man capable of such emotional stability? It made Kisuke smile, reaching up to trail his fingers through the orange spikes before taking a deep breath.
"You know what Ichigo," he whispered, feeling the redhead stir beside him. "You're right."
"I am?" Ichigo raised his head up, a small smirk gracing his features. "You mean, for once you're actually admitting that I'm right?"
"Don't gloat too much," Kisuke said, boldly reaching forward and brushing their lips together. "I'm not one to allow this sort of thing to happen too often."
Ichigo chuckled quietly, curling into his body with an almost purr. The tension that lingered between them was draining away, leaving the air feeling cooler, easier to breath. Kisuke nuzzled against Ichigo's head, resisting the urge to sigh happily as that would have been terribly unmanly of him. He had an image to maintain after all.
"No more hiding, right?" Ichigo asked, his voice happier…almost hopeful.
"Correct."
They sat together that way for a few minutes, neither speaking, the only communication being conveyed by slow caresses across slightly moist skin. Urahara hadn't noticed due to the situation (and his own angst over said situation), but the night was actually quite warm. Warm enough that he was starting to imagine a cool bath might be rather nice. Maybe some ice cubes floating around in there…a choice rubber ducky or two…
"What did you get me for my birthday?" Ichigo questioned suddenly, as though he'd just thought of it and couldn't wait to ask.
Kisuke laughed abruptly, falling backwards onto the wooden porch and bringing Ichigo with him so that the younger man lay draped across his body. Without a word he reached into his green haori and pulled out an old and worn picture, handing it to Ichigo with a grin. It was a photo taken back when he was a captain, smiling in front of the Institute on its opening day, Hiyori punching Hirako in the background. Ichigo had often asked what he'd been like when he was in Soul Society, and nearly every time he had somehow dodged the question. Too many painful memories, too many questions he didn't want to answer.
So in a way, this was like allowing Ichigo into his past…somewhere he hadn't allowed anyone else to be for a very long time. A free pass into who he once was, if that was what Ichigo truly wanted.
Ichigo looked at it intently, bringing the photo to his face, before turning it over and smiling in a strange way. Finding himself puzzled by the expression, Urahara nearly asked him if he liked it or not, wanting clarification. But before he could get even the first words out, he found his lips forcefully covered by Ichigo's, his breath stolen and all words lost in the passionate exchange.
Letting his arms come up around Ichigo's back, he brought their bodies flush together, rolling so that he was on top…the photo coming out of Ichigo's grasp to gently flutter to the ground…
For You…Evergreen. Yours, Kisuke.