AN: It's snowing so my plans for running errands has filtered away… And I'm lazy… And it's cold… But something came out of that- the end of this last edition of Boy Unmasked.
Note it's pretty long-cuz it's the end and there's more dialogue than previous. And I tagged on a silly somewhat epilogue.
Enjoy and thanks for the support!
Rated: M for language and SC
Summary: Vows- check. Ring- check. Girl… Better double check. While the crowd awaits he needs to steal a few minutes of her time- just to reassure her with soft, loving words. How did this turn into such a dirty situation?
Word Count: 4,442
Satiate
Boy Unmasked
Part 3
888
The walkway echoed with the click-clack of chic stilettos, two sets striking the unfinished marble in time.
He listened to the patter of those shoes and the fading of musical feminine voices as he leaned back against the stone in the little alcove outside the sanctuary's doors.
Smoke curled away, the chilly, last of autumn breeze snatching it into the atmosphere every time the sharply dressed young man exhaled.
This was only perhaps the third time in his life he'd allowed himself to succumb to this vice. In fact only three months prior had he indulged for the second time on the eve of his proposal.
Perhaps it was in odd tribute to his father that he puffed away languidly at the slim cigarette- the same brand his father would sneak when he thought no one would notice.
He had to admit his old man did look kind of cool- kind of smooth when he lit up a square and gazed into the distance, watching the trails of vapor disappear. Certainly he too had a bit of that charm when he did the same.
Soon though it was time to execute his mission- self-imposed though it may be- he still intended to carry it out with finesse.
After all- the groom wasn't meant to see the bride before her traditional sashay down the aisle. And of course if he were caught he'd be forced to turn around- literally forced by some daunting female or worse by a soon-to-be brother-in-law.
Still he looked oh-so-suave and nonchalant as he slid out from his hiding spot and began to pace down the colonnaded open-air corridor, shiny black shoes barely making a sound. One hand in the pocket of his pressed black pants and the other holding his near-ashed cigarette he seemed to channel James Bond as he strutted.
At the wooden dressing room door he stubbed out the cigarette, relieved there just so happened to be a metal receptacle in reach. In the breast pocket of his silver-grey vest he found binaca and silently saluted his friend Keigo for the forethought.
After one more surreptitious glance about the stone sitting room and down the adjoining hall he pushed at the iron handle of the door and stepped over the threshold.
"Did you forget something?" The occupant of the room asked distractedly.
There was no response.
The shinigami turned, bewildered by the silence only for her lapis lazuli eyes to widen dramatically as they locked onto the tall man darkening her doorway.
But the young man missed the shocked expression as his eyes roved over her extravagant apparel.
Damn… She looks good in white, but…
"How come you're wearing an upside-down cupcake?"
If possible Rukia's eyes widened further and she snapped, "Those are the first words out of your mouth when you see me, you baka?"
The bright-haired young man, by the name of Ichigo Kurosaki met her eyes then and paled slightly when he realized that his half-joke was probably cannon fodder.
"Don't get me wrong- you look- great- seriously but- I mean- that's a big dress." He chuckled, pushing a hand back through his hair.
Darkness gathered in the young woman's eyes as she stared at the shinigami-daiko, an air of threat surrounding her small form.
Finally she gave him a haughty sniff and looked away from him, "Its designer and its perfect." She cast a sharp glance his way as she lifted a brow, "How is it you came here anyway?"
With a half shrug Ichigo replied, "Slipped past your armored guards. I'm pretty damn good at suppressing my reiatsu now, ya know."
The bride quipped wryly, "Only took you a decade."
He gave a chuckle, a boyish expression passing his handsome features and reminding her of the impossibly long journey they'd taken to get to this point.
She hid the flickering of emotions plain on her face by shifting to the mirror. Her heart was fluttering- like it might take flight from her chest. She'd been told it was normal to be nervous.
Orihime had informed her that humans who were utterly confident about the "big day" were few and far between.
It was totally common to feel strange about this kind of day…
Her feet weren't exactly cold though- but they did ache in the too high heels.
She shifted her weight a couple times while adjusting her veil.
"Why are you here, exactly?" She demanded in a stern tone.
But this brusqueness did not dissuade the man behind her- not even a bit as he secretively eyed her with all appreciativeness.
"I just wanted to see your face." He admitted easily.
Her painted lips curled softly, but still she rolled her eyes. She sighed as she smoothed a persistent lock of hair back beneath the tulle and lace.
The woman in the mirror was lovely and she searched her face for familiarity. If she could recognize herself- then it was real- then she could move forward.
The manicured hand, sweeping beneath her eyes fell to the top of the vanity to trace invisible patterns.
"When did this not become about sex?" She mused softly.
He snorted at this and crossed his arms over his chest, "When you started getting clingy."
"Clingy my ass!" She chucked a tube of lipstick at his head, but swiftly returned to eyeing her reflection.
He chuckled, smirking at the cosmetic that had just narrowly missed his forehead. With confidence he strode toward her. His arms circled her from behind, and she instantly leaned back into his hold.
"When you stopped fighting us." He murmured gently, bent so that he could press his cheek to her veiled hair.
"Who says I'll ever stop fighting?" She pouted her lips out, catching his gaze in the mirror, with a narrow-eyed look.
That cocky smile had returned and he replied, "Oh struggle all you want, Shinigami, I like it that way."
She too began to smile, though she feigned irritation, "Not shinigami; Rukia. Rukia Kurosaki…" Her eyes fell to her face in the mirror again and she stared at herself murmuring, "Kurosaki… Kurosaki, Rukia."
He sniffed as though affronted, scowling at her as he straightened to his full height, "What? Gonna miss the 'Kuchiki'?"
She frowned, but didn't reply.
Keeping one arm around her he gave a half shrug as he scratched at the back of his neck, "Oi… You can hyphenate it if, ya want… Kuchiki-Kurosaki doesn't sound too bad." He forestalled a grimace.
Hyphenating last names is what school teachers or doctors did- it was snarky.
But Rukia smiled and shook her head slowly, "No… Kurosaki suits me just fine." She tilted her chin up, showing her pride.
"Damn right." He muttered, slinging his arm around her again and leaning down to rest his chin on her shoulder.
With an elbow to the stomach she gave him a rather dry look, "Who's clingy now, Strawberry?"
He grunted and reluctantly pulled away from her white-clad form. "So sue me. Have you seen the ridiculous amount of people that are out there? Can't blame a guy for trying to steal a few minutes before the madness!"
Rukia turned to him with one raised brow, crossing her arms over her stomach, "You know there's a whole section of fangirls that have come to mourn the loss of their heroic idol." Seriously- those heifers are already crying like it's a frickin funeral!
Ichigo adopted a similar pose with his arms as he scoffed, "Yeah well don't get me started on the number of guys that have threatened me with all kinds of harm if I don't 'stay in line'." That's including my own friends- Ishida I can understand- stick up his ass 'in all, but Chad?!
"Oh," Rukia's eyes flitted to the ceiling as she put a finger beneath her bottom lip, "You've run into Shuuhei and Toshirou then…"
The young man's form twitched, growing rigid as he stared at her, "What?! Why the hell would they be threatening me over you, Rukia? And what's with the first names?!"
But his fiancée only gave him an innocent look, cocking her head to one side, before she turned to the dressing table.
"Rukia…" The young man growled menacingly behind her.
She sighed gustily as she pivoted his way only to settle onto the vanity and scowl at him, "Oh pipe down! You think I have no other friends than Renji? Am I so unpopular?" Her hands were propped on her hips before she sighed again and dropped them to her skirt. With a soft groan she bent forward as she angled one ankle over her opposite knee.
Ichigo noted the four inch heels strapped to her feet then and commented, "Ah, I was wondering why you didn't look so dinky today."
Her gaze snapped up to him and she hissed between her teeth before choosing to ignore him as she undid the clasp of the white strap around her ankle.
"Yes well, simply so that I don't look so dinky I am forgoing my comfort to wear these monstrosities…" Her lips pouted as she pulled the shoe off and rubbed at her stocking-ed foot. "I'm going to end up with back problems you know."
But the young man could hardly concentrate on her grumbling as his eyes trailed up and down the woman's calf clad in the sheer, silky white nylon. His lips were twitching, threatening a rakish smile as he watched her extend her leg, bending it a few times in a stretch.
He decided that if he remained utterly still he might really get a show. As it was Rukia was paying him no mind, her hand squeezing around her calf now to work the muscle that had grown somewhat stiff from standing before the mirror.
As she let her shoeless foot dangle she reached for the other foot when she was startled by the suddenly kneeling form of her husband-to-be.
"Let me. You'll mess up your hair or whatnot." He muttered, reaching for her heel. Rukia couldn't help it- she frowned at his bowed head of shaggy orange hair- suspicious by nature.
His warm hand enclosed her ankle and his dexterous fingers set to work on the small buckle.
She could not see the devious cast to his smile as he slid his hand up her calf on the precept that he was getting a better grip.
"Ichigo… What time was it when you came in?" She asked, trying not to shudder at the way his hand began to massage gently.
"It's fine. We've plenty of time. Weren't the girls gonna come back a half hour before anyway?" He murmured as he slid the shoe from her dainty foot.
"Still…" She huffed as she settled her arms over her stomach in a stubborn pose.
"Rukia…"
"Mmm?" She waited, but when he didn't continue she looked down only to fall prey to the smoldering look in his dark butterscotch eyes.
She curled her tongue in her mouth- trying to wet her palette and lubricate her throat. Blindly she reached for the flute of champagne that Rangiku had left on the right side of the vanity.
Her hand shook around the glass as she brought it to her lips, trying to decide what made this sensation of heat worse- the look in his eyes- or the fingers creeping up to her thighs.
"You know you really look amazing, right? I- never thought… You're really beautiful, Rukia." For just a moment, she saw past the swaggering rogue this man had become and saw the unguarded boy that had first made her blush.
Younger Ichigo had had a bluntness about him that was paired with uncertainty- and it was that side of him that peaked through at times and reminded her that before their bedroom antics had come into play- they had just been friends.
Their foundation had been trust. And while she had forever questioned the progression from friends to lovers- doubting the sanity of it- she could not evade the fact that their faith in each other was real.
What could be wrong about this then?
So she was marrying her protégé essentially… was the emotion she felt any less true?
He watched the play of ranging thought behind her eyes carefully- as though reading every doubt.
But he was purposely patient… Still, the time for reassurance was now and he'd never been great with emotional speeches.
A rallying war-cry he could do- but a sentimental epitaph was a little harder- not to mention it took too much time and planning.
Action was always his way and she would just have to deal with that.
She took a large gulp of the bubbly alcohol when his digits tickled over the lacy tops of the stockings and plucked at the garter belt's clasps.
Her cheeks bloomed with color- an instant response to the liquor? Doubtful.
"Ichigo-," She started to protest, but her voice was just a breathless murmur.
He quickly silenced her, "Shh, it's just us, ne? Before all this traditional bull and public spectacle nonsense- let's just be us, okay?"
She could only exhale as her dress was pushed up further and one finger was tracing her nether lips through the satin of her skivvies.
"This-this- is our wedding day!" She managed to sound scandalized even as she rolled her hips and then gasped at the friction.
"Day, night, what does it matter?" He smirked down at her, standing now, one arm beneath one leg, angling her back against the mirror as he continued to stimulate her.
Using his middle finger he rubbed little circles on the hardened nub he could feel through the fabric of her dampening panties.
"This- is sooo wrong." She groaned, but her eyes were closed and her head was lolling, each breath escaping her- short.
The vanity was the perfect height for him and he couldn't believe his luck as he paused in arousing her long enough to reach for the button and zipper on his restrictive slacks.
"Ichigo." She panted.
She was impatient now; those sapphire eyes heady, glazed with lust.
"Yeah," He exhaled, hotly, fumbling with his pants in utter desperation, "Say my name just like that… Always." His trousers fell to his ankles, followed by his navy boxer briefs- he didn't want to leave any telltale evidence on dark clothes.
The wet satin crotch of her panties brushed his straight length as her hips bounced in anticipation.
"Sorry, baby, we honestly don't have a lot of time," Ichigo purred as he leaned over her, re-situating her so that the angle was right, "But I swear, tonight..." There was no reply as his hand dove into her skimpy underclothes, cupping her as his middle finger plunged into her simmering honeypot.
Her leg practically curled over his shoulder and she whined, ignoring the sound of the champagne glass- that she'd carelessly perched on the tabletop- shattering on the floor. Her juicy walls rippled around his finger anxiously, drawing him in.
She couldn't quite ignore the sound of satin and lace ripping, her fiancee's ardor mounting into carelessness. But still she was putty in his hands- like always- she was reduced to a writhing mass of flesh- albeit now practically drowning in abundant fabric hiked up around her waist and nearly burying her upper body under the layers.
She wanted to snipe at him- being blinded by white netting and silky bits was hardly ideal, but his finger was gone and the head of his cock was travelling up and down- touching every naughty place below her waist.
Helplessly she rocked her hips as he prodded her stiff clit.
Ichigo pushed aside what he could of the dress fluff, not liking her responses muffled and needing to see the desirous look on her face.
Just as he thought: she looked needy. She was biting at her lower lip, her eyes screwed shut, and every once and awhile her tongue would dart out to wet her pouted mouth.
With a sinister, yet completely erotic chuckle, he stretched her, popping just the tip of himself into her entrance, letting her muscles suck at him eagerly.
"Oh!" She arched her back, reaching to dig her hands into him anywhere- searching for an anchor.
"That's right," He uttered as between each heaving, anxious breath he pushed a little more of his erection into her, "This is… what you want… isn't it?"
Their pelvises seemed to ram each other as he conquered her depths and she surrendered to his invasion. He was pushing against her womb and that hint of pain that always came with this joining only made her whimper with delight.
As he leaned in to partake in her lips he ground in further and she whined into his mouth as the ache inside increased.
Showing a hint of mercy the man slowly re-adjusted her legs so that the underside of them nestled into his palms as he began to pump his cock into her sheath. Still, he spread her incredibly wide so she could feel each slap of his tight balls against her ass cheeks.
Her head smacked against the mirror and the whole desk jolted, compacts and cosmetics shuddering, some clattering to the floor to join the littering of shimmering glass.
His words barely penetrated the haze, but then they rang like bells in her ears, "After today- there's no- going back. Fuck- never has been…"
"B-but," She swallowed hard, uncertainty rearing like her nearing orgasm, "You- you've never been… been with anyone else- how can you kn-kn-OH!"
His head was tipped back and he was hammering back and forth, his mouth was hanging open as he panted like a marathon runner. Somehow he managed to bark out, "Are you an idiot?"
He glared down at her now and his hands dug into her. He quickly shifted her to lie longways, bottoming out in her as he laid atop her, earning himself a sharp cry.
His pace slowed, his hips swiveling so that his member hit her in all sorts of new ways that made her eyes tear in bliss.
"Why would I go anywhere else?" He whispered against her lips, pulling out minimally before snapping forward again while sweeping her mouth with tongue.
She didn't so much mind his tongue-melting kisses now…
Still she pulled away to yelp, "Oh god!"
The top of this antique dressing table really did not make for the most comfortable support, but even if her neck snapped it wouldn't matter as her release was almost in sight.
"Quickly, Ichigo, please," She pleaded in a plaintive whisper, "I'm starting to sweat."
He gave a laugh and she felt thrill from her head to her toes.
"Nobody wants a- sweaty cupcake."
"Oh- fuck- you!"
"It's better when I fuck you, angel."
"You're- so conceited- asshole."
"Is that where you want it next, honey?"
"Ugh- you're so- so…Mmm-ugh!"
"Oh yeah? There? Kay, let go then, baby- before you sweat."
Before she could berate him Rukia got a mouthful of dress as Ichigo drove home once more and remained deep in her pussy as he shot one long blast of thick come after another.
Saturated by his milk she orgasmed as well, meeting his thrust so that she could feel each little spurt that might follow his initial explosion.
There was an echoing cry in her head and she attempted to breathe through her nose, despite how hard her ribs pressed against her flesh with every exhalation.
She could hear her partner's ragged breathing next to her ear, sprawled heavily on her.
"Ichigo!" She slapped his back which jolted him.
"Yeah, yeah, hold on a minute…" He griped at her only wiggling slightly.
Rukia's eyes narrowed; she knew the man well enough- there was almost always strength in him to go another round. "Ichigo Kurosaki, you get off me right now." She demanded, nails digging into his shoulders.
He hissed through his teeth and she felt his member jump inside her.
That was not the response she had been hoping for (though she inwardly writhed in abandon at the sensation).
She swallowed hard, mentally clutching at her willpower and growled, "I mean it, Ichigo. We do not have time for this."
A snort was her answer and he pushed himself back enough for her to see the crooked smirk, "Isn't that what you were afraid of the first time?"
Her talons were close to shredding fabric now and he threw his head back with a sharp inhale, "Ahhh, fuck." He was panting, eyes dark, frothing with potent desire, "Damnit- you know that's not fucking helping."
She felt him move again, felt the truth of his words as he swelled pressing against her walls with his thickness.
She suppressed a groan and quickly released him, hissing, "Don't you dare!"
The muscles in his jaw down to his neck were very pronounced as he grew still, eyes screwed shut in concentration.
It took a great effort to calm himself after being worked up by his minx-y little fiancé. Damn her.
His broad chest expanded as he took in a breath. After a minute in which Rukia's gaze lashed at his face with impressive peril Ichigo grunted and pushed himself up further.
They both shuddered as he disengaged his softening dick from her toasty nethers.
The young woman sighed in relief, allowing herself to relax- though she was realizing how very awkward their makeshift bed was now.
After a moment she called, "Ichigo." And tossed her head in the direction of a chaise in the corner of the room. He followed her line of vision and then shuffled forward.
At the bachelorette party, the ever practical Nanao Ise had gifted the bride with a basket full of emergency items- little things that might be needed on the day of the wedding- possibly forgotten due to the anxious rush.
Rukia and Ichigo had come to appreciate the convenience of wet wipes- they made clean-up easy.
The room would have been silent but for the whispering of fabric as the groom redressed.
Garter belt adjusted, stockings in place, and skirt situated Rukia watched as her husband-to-be ruffled his distinctive auburn locks.
He looked pleased with himself and she might have been irritated by this if she was not positive she knew the reason behind his self-satisfaction.
"That was some reassurance."
He turned her way as he tugged at his vest, a curious expression on his face, only to take in her smile. The smile was returned slowly but he raised a brow in question, "Reassurance?"
The curtain of lashes hid her eyes from him as she looked down, smile never wavering as she said, "Mmhm… Though… I don't know if it was necessary..." Her eyes locked onto his own and his throat grew tight with suffocating emotion.
She nodded, "Even if I threw a fit and shredded this dress in a silly- ridiculous- panic attack- I'd… I'd come to you, Ichigo. I'd walk that aisle- a shameful mess- but I'd come."
She had approached him slowly, glided toward him in her pure white "cupcake" dress until she was a space away- head tilted back to meet his gaze.
"That's the strength of my resolve," Her voice had grown soft and she slipped her hands into the large ones unconsciously held out to her, "That's my faith in myself. In my love. In… us."
This brave warrior-goddess…
How could she do this to him- how could she take his heart into her hands and make it beat only for her?
Ichigo didn't trust his voice. It hurt to look at her- a blissful pain he understood, yet found almost ludicrous.
Finally he nodded, his voice rough, "Aa."
Rukia smiled and squeezed the trembling hands in her own, "Aa."
Word Count: 482
888
Epilogue
Wedding and a Funeral
Ten minutes before the ceremony in the dressing room…
"Working on those babies early, huh?" Rangiku said with a saucy wink.
The bride lost all color in her face, "Wha?"
The strawberry-blonde giggled, waving her hand at the smaller woman's reflection, "It's okay! At least you're going into the marriage knowing what you're getting, eh? Though I can't imagine that was the first time…" Blue eyes glimmered knowingly.
"So- so, you-oh- hell- you heard?" Rukia squeaked going from pale to pretty pink and back again.
"Mmhmm, we sure did!"
Rukia's hands dropped forward with a smack onto the tabletop, "We as in-,"
"Everybody. Seriously I think your brother had a minor aneurysm – his eye won't stop twitching now." Rangiku's tone was nonchalant. She fussed with the veil with a pout, oblivious to the bride looking rather mortified and on the verge of collapse.
Finally after a couple minutes of fluffing and smoothing, Rangiku glanced up into the mirror only to blink rapidly at the pallid face staring dazedly into the glass.
"Oh- crap- are your laces too tight?" The bridesmaid queried with innocent concern.
Rukia looked on the verge of tears, "I-I- I'm not wearing panties."
888
Meanwhile at the altar…
Ichigo's groomsmen all suspiciously looked as though they'd gotten too much sun- red faced and fidgeting in discomfort.
Glancing to his left at them Ichigo scowled and muttered, "What the hell is with you guys?"
"What the hell is with you?" The best man accused tossing his head in the other direction- stubbornly avoiding the groom's gaze.
"Renji," Ichigo gave the man a dry look, "What are you talking about?"
He watched as the other man swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing. His frown deepened.
"Nothin'," Renji spat in a low whisper, still refusing to return his friend's gaze.
After one more suspicious look Ichigo rolled his eyes and shifted forward to take in the murmuring sanctuary.
Come to think of it- why does everyone look so… awkward? Nobody will look at me…
Just then the shinigami-daiko locked eyes with the Head of the Kuchiki Clan and felt his death was eminent.
"Oh yeah, Buddy-boy," Renji needled, leaning to the side toward the young man, "That look right there means you're food for the vultures…"
Ichigo felt his chest tighten, his heart on a collision course with his ribcage as grey eyes grew ever darker with bloody intent.
"Didn't realize you had that kind of relationship and now thinks the proposal came cuz you knocked his sister up." The red-head informed the groom from behind the hand cupped around his mouth.
"Shit." Ichigo's utterance echoed jarringly in the holy space.
Recovered from his own embarrassment at the situation the young man next to Renji coolly adjusted his glasses with a gloved hand.
"A wedding and a funeral in the same day. Good luck with that, Kurosaki."
AN: Annnnnddd that's a wrap! Wanted to make it sweet- smutty- and fun with what was hopefully some classic banter.
Please join me for the next shot I'm working on: Kitsune and Ojou-sama
Gratitude once more for your kindness!
Take care!
~Sin