Old Habits

This is a warning: There WILL be some adult language and themes used here. This is het, but character names will not be directly used. I am rewriting this, which used to be chapter 1 of a discontinued fanfic. MAYBE SOMEDAY that fanfic will be revamped and continued. For now, this is all you'll be getting. BEWARE, I haven't written serious fic in forever. So things may get awkward.

This is a disclaimer: Kusari (myself) does not own Bleach, nor will he ever. He does not even own the rights to a single character. Believe you me, if he did, shit would hit the fan.

This is a summary: We shouldn't be doing this, it isn't right. But we both know it's impossible to quit it cold turkey. Just this once, let us revel in what a chance we have. For tomorrow, it shall mean nothing.

The dawning morning sun begins to eek through the closed blinds, flooding a small section of the bedroom. It spreads quickly and bathes my prone figure in blinding light too strong for my eyes. I shield them with my right forearm and glance at the digital clock on the nightstand beside the bed. The soft, red-lit numbers read 6:40 AM and I know I can relax again. The sun itself has not fully risen and the sky is still painted beautiful shades of red, orange and yellow dotted with wispy, white cirrus clouds.

One of said clouds drifts lazily to partially cover the sun, which darkens the room temporarily. I am safely able to drop my arm guard from in front of my face but my eyes still remain half-lidded. Carefully, with precision, I sit myself up on the mattress and stretch. The comforter clings to my nude form and I spot my clothing lay in a disheveled heap in a corner.

My thoughts wander aimlessly back to the activities of last night. It was an intense evening and very refreshing after a few stressful days filled with paperwork and Squad transfers. But tonight would not be wondrous as I have to return to all the mundane tasks of running the 3rd. There is much to do to keep the shipping sailing smoothly and I'm not looking forward to it.

The blanket comforter lying atop both myself and the other occupant of the bed clings to my bare chest. I peel it away slightly because the climate of the room is comfortably warm. One would expect as much in the season of late spring. Lying here in this semi-dark space in this pleasant temperature is enough to make anyone want to call in sick.

My gaze drifts as I pivot my head to the left just enough to glance upon the sleeping figure of my bedmate. Our evening romp had been energizing and satisfactory so I was in no rush to go another round. She deserves to rest before returning to her own Divisional duties at the 8th. This will not be the last time we end up in the same bed. It sure as hell wasn't the first occurrence either.

As much as we really desire the kick this age-old habit, it has proven impossible time and again. We've been at this thing for years with no sign of letting up in the near future. No, our personal lives shall remain entwined for quite some time. Part of me doubts that we'll ever be ready to go our own ways. You cannot call our 'thing' love or a relationship. It is merely a strong mutual desire and attraction. She never strays from our agreement and I dare not dream of treating another as I do her.

I dare not attempt to wake her so early and carelessly. She seems so at peace and undisturbed, not haunted by horrid nightmares or twisted dreams. There is nothing to disrupt her sleeping hours at night or keep her awake during the day. These are afflictions I must deal with. But I will not dwell on them after such an eventful evening the night before. I see no reason to ruin a brand new day so early.

Perhaps it's finally time to get my ass out of bed and prepare for the long day ahead. Despite the time I can read on the clock, getting back to sleep after all this musing will be impossible. My thoughts will keep me up in any effort I make to catch extra z's. No matter if I was able to go back to dreamland anyway. 8 AM was the cutoff for slumber and a mere 60 minutes of extra sleep would do no good in the grand scheme.

My body swivels delicately so as not to disturb my lady friend as she remains fast asleep. Both feet touch solid ground and the bed sheets release their iron grip on me. Standing up to my full height, I stretch my limbs and manage to get in a yawn. Now my eyes are fully open and I am made aware of my surroundings. Her clothing lay in the room corner opposite mine. My underwear had separated itself from the heap which contained my shihakusho and undershirt.

"It seems so surreal. Almost as if it's all just a dream. What time did I even get to sleep last night?"

It is essential that in my self-musings I remain quiet enough so as to let the lady have her rest. Senseless ramblings are no excuse to be woken up an hour before we were required to trek to work. And I wouldn't feel right if I upset her, no matter what the cause was. We were on good terms and spoiling that would be foolhardy.

Carefully I step to where my clothing lies and I pick up the boxers, slipping them on without any issue. Showering would come later, as would a change of clothes. Right now I only had one goal in my mind and that was foraging for something to eat. It didn't even have to be a whole breakfast spread. Just something simple would suffice.

Throwing on a pair of lounge pants I had left on top of my dresser as well, my travels took me down the hall and into the kitchen. This home of mine wasn't much but it was all I needed. One floor with a master bedroom, guest bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and small living room suited my needs completely. The guest bedroom served as a holding space for any take-home paperwork or Divisional supplies I brought with me from the 3rd.

She never complained about the space in which I lived. Her own place wasn't fabulous either so we had no right to complain. I slept in a king-sized bed so there was plenty of room for us to do as we pleased on those nights of addiction indulgence. She'd spend the night whenever we hooked up. Truthfully, not even a small part of me minded. My space was hers to share. It's not like we're married and we both understand our little arrangement's boundaries.

Breakfast was kept light seeing as I was in no rush to get on with my day. Two slices of toast with semi-strong coffee was all I required to fuel my body. The table was cluttered with agonizing forms I'd dragged out of the guest bedroom for completion. There were due dates on them set for a week from now. Once again, there was no hurry. I had plenty of time.

Seeing as how I finally had something in my stomach, it was the appropriate time for a shower. There was still an obvious reek that smelled of sex and sweat from the night before that clung to my skin. Before I headed back to my room for a set of fresh underwear my eyes glanced up at the analog clock. The hands showed the time being set at 7:10. I rolled my shoulders casually then ventured back to my sleeping quarters.

"Looks like she's still sound asleep, heh."

Yes, she was still sleeping, curled up now with the sheets revealing her shoulders and some of her chest, which was rising and falling at a steady pace. My violet eyes wandered instinctively to the unveiled skin of her breasts and upper arms. As a male, I couldn't keep myself from looking for it was a natural attraction. This woman, she was very attractive and enrapturing. Sometimes I desired a normal relationship instead of this 'bang and go' routine that I knew was bad for us. However, it would be fruitless to even consider it.

Instead of quickly grabbing fresh boxers then heading to the bathroom, my bottom now rested on mattress again. I needed to think after being enraptured by the now clearer, still nude form of what many would call my 'fuck buddy.' This happened every damn time she spent the night. I would begin my morning routine and hit a speed bump upon seeing her lying in my bed. It hits me strongly only now because I am fully awake.

In the back of my mind the same old questions sprang up. Dead horse ideals gained new life and dominated my train of though, if only for an instant before I shoved them back with all my willpower. Only this individual had this particular effect on me. And it was only when she and I shared the same home space. If we ran into each other around the Squad's barracks, we treated each other with respect and formal dignity.

"Why do I even bother with these ponderings?"

I was whispering quietly again and I saw her stir from her position on my bed. She must have heard me mumbling, even though I tried to keep it as low as possible. The light gray blanket and darker gray sheets loosened their hold on her body and I could see more exposed, smooth skin now. It was hard to resist temptation but I kept my hands where they were and turned my head away again.

Doubt pricked at the back of my conscious once more. None of what was happening now seemed right. In fact, I distinctly remember feeling this way for weeks now. Our tri-weekly sexcapades were fun and all but lately there's been an unexplainable air of negativity about them, too. One that I could not deny or disbelieve despite all my efforts to do so. What was happening to us, to our casual arrangement?

We're not the only friends-with-benefits couple ever to have this problem. It seemed just so cliche. Was there some greater intention Fate had set for us? If so, I might never know. Because for as 'fearless' as I was as a Captain, I wasn't downright stupid. Venturing into this territory would only end up becoming a giant mess of drama and cliffhanger emotions. Dammit we are only not even 33, as Living World age standards go, and we've already been entangled in this mess for over a decade. I must be losing my ever-loving mind.

Close friends of mine have always urged me to tread cautiously. They know me well enough to remember that I have the habit of over-indulging myself with this filthy affair. And they know my lover too, they know what she's about and they way we are around each other in public. I know they're aware of some of the things that go on behind closed doors. If only I could tell them the full-on truth. But I'm a coward and could never confess all of my growing insecurities to anyone. That is just not how most men function. And I'm expected to like a typical male, aloof and not overly emotional.

I'd love to just take their advice and clean up my act immediately. That is just not possible, though. Not now, not when we've carried on like this for as long as we have. It's sickening. If I breakdown I run the risk of losing everything I've built for myself up until now. And losing that would be like losing the ground floor of a home. She is the center of my private life. The fuel to the fire that has become vital in shaping who I am as an individual. We cannot continue on this road but we can't just quit cold turkey either. We're stuck.

I finally mustered up enough gall to speak aloud a thought that was plaguing my brain. I didn't care for a moment in time if it woke her up or not. Holding in these things would be the death of me. Damn whatever consequences I would receive. Damn all of them to Hell. "We can't keep fucking doing this."

The tone of my voice is unapologetic and unreserved. This would most likely weigh on my mind all day and in the end I would be apologizing. But not now. Now was the time to speak my mind and confront the obvious elephant in the room. What a wondrous thing to wake up to. All of my angsting this early in the day and it wasn't even the result of something down at the 3rd.

She murmured a few inaudible things, garbled by partial sleepiness. I rest my arms calmly on my legs, fists clenched and back still to her. She is sure to notice that something is awry and would need details. What a fantastical way to start the morning after a fulfilling evening.

"You ok?"

Her words flowed clearly now, plainly coherent though I can still detect a hint of grogginess in her voice. At least she's finally awake and alert. The clock reads 7:25 now, meaning I've spent 15 long minutes reflecting on this mess we've worked our way into. Not even an hour has passed since I'd woken up.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Sorry if I woke you up." I was already apologizing.

My words had definitely reached her brain. Not five seconds after I had spoken them had passed before I felt her body heat against my back. She had her arms wrapped around my chest, her forehead rested between my shoulder blades, and her body drawn close to my own. I stiffened my form at the unexpected contact. We weren't decent and time was ticking. My shower had become a forgotten concept, though I still intended to take one.

"You're not yourself in the morning."

"Only when you're here beside me."

With that statement, I grimaced lightly. It was damn true that I wasn't quite myself in her presence. Not even an hour had passed since my awakening and already the drama reared its disgusting head. But I couldn't let on to what exactly was driving me so mad. She senses only what's on the surface and for that I am forever grateful. If she knew the true extent of the things troubling my brain...I don't know what would result.

"It's ok. We've gotten through it so far. And we can keep getting away with it."

"No…I really doubt it, love."

One of my hands travels up to where hers are, still gently placed against my chest. The difference between her hands and mine still amused me. She is smaller than me in every proportion save intelligence. This girl was brilliant in her own right, always reading new things in her spare time. Perhaps that's one reason I found her so attractive. Looks weren't everything after all and women that could stand on their own intellectually were the best kind.

Now I can feel my own heart beating behind my ribs. She can feel it too, and something about that gives me pause. We're Shinigami. Dead individuals with 'lives' and jobs vastly differing from those of human beings in the Living World. My heart still beats and we can feel it yet we live in the realm of the dead. It is faint but I can feel her heartbeat too, up against the exposed flesh of my back. And in this moment the world seems so hard to understand.

But then reality comes crashing down as I gaze over at the clock. 7:40. "I have to shower."

"I know. Sorry to keep you stalled."

"It's perfectly fine. There is no need to apologize."

Her grip on me is slowly loosened then released as her arms fall to her sides. I can no longer feel her body heat against my frame. If I said I didn't miss the sensation then I'd be so obviously lying to myself. The feeling of her body pressed close to mine and having her embrace me is something I reveled in, though I knew I shouldn't. We're just fuck buddies, friends with benefits, booty call. Yet, why do I feel like Fate may have greater things in store?

Quickly letting the thought lie stagnant and unpursued, I rise up once again from my sitting position and stretch. I know she's watching me, still unclothed and shameless, and I can't shake this weird feeling creeping up on me. Something really feels off this morning. Is it all just in my head? Or are my nervous vibes justified? It's probably just me again.

My legs take me to my dresser at last and I fish out fresh boxers and an undershirt. The shihakusho which all Shinigami wear lies untouched on the floor. It probably should be washed tonight, it's starting to carry a foul stench. My haori hangs on a hook by the front door so it is not forgotten or sullied by intimate mistakes.

She finally arises out of bed with a yawn and a stretch, reaching for her discarded clothing. There are fresh things for her to put on back at her own home and I can imagine that is where she'll be headed soon for a shower and breakfast. Today she does not have the option of using my facilities as I must occupy them now. And there is simply no time for both of us to get in a shower.

After a brisk shuffle to the the bathroom, I close the door and shrug out of my lounge pants. The boxers come off next and I part the shower curtain in order to turn the water on. My filthy clothing is stuffed into a corner where dirty laundry congregates, awaiting its time in the washer.

The sound of water rushing from the shower-head and hitting the floor of the stall seems foreign for a second. Then I am brought back to reality and step in as soon as the water warms up, closing the curtain again behind me. I am briefly shocked by the sensation of water hitting bare skin and relax in the warmth slowly. My taut form ceases to be as stiff as the feeling of a hot shower begins to wash away the telltale remnants of sex and passion. It's a welcome feeling.

Luckily the simple hair tie that I employed to keep my unruly mane tamed in a low ponytail has been abandoned on the night stand in the bedroom. My blonde hair hangs loosely against my back as the warm water flows over and through it, reducing some of the more defined wavy curls near the ends to semi-straight strands. This makes the job of shampooing it far simpler. But it will snap back to its natural slightly waved pattern upon drying. And I would have to wrangle it back into the black hair tie once it has been brushed post-showering.

My ears pricked up as I caught the unmistakable sound of the wooden bathroom door creaking open. Light footsteps followed and the door was once again shut. This peaked my curiosity, as I usually took my showers solo. She dared not even come in this room while I was utilizing it. What had made her so bold this time around. Besides, wasn't she supposed to be headed home?

With delicacy, I opened the soaked cloth curtain just a tad and caught sight of her. Her clothes slipped off flawlessly and she was once again nude before my eyes. Even her hair, usually kept in double braids, flowed loosely over her neck and shoulders as it had ever since the hair ties came out last night.

Suddenly, there was a chill. She had drawn the curtain open wider and gave me a stare as if to notion that I was about to have company. This gave me serious pause and I could not find words to express what I was supposed to be feeling.

"Move over." It was a gentle command.

Obediently, I made room for her in the shower. She stepped in without another thought and I still could not speak as the curtain was shut another time. Instead, I found myself pinned lightly to the wall opposite where the showerhead was mounted. It was forceful in a non-violent manner.

"Round two?" It was not a question. And it was so on.