A/N: I don't own Bleach.
Hi, everyone! How is it going? Sorry for not updating #FanficFriday regularly! I am totally swamped by work. And here it is I think I will have to change it to #FanficSaturday or #FanficSunday haha.
I hope this random plot bunny in 700 Days universe finds you well. I wrote it like in just one night XD so really sorry for the lack of plot, just a totally little random scenario that happens through out IchiRuki's relationship days.
And I picked Grimmjow to make an appearance here, solely for FangirlIssues31 (I hope you read this story and li haha XD), because she really loves Grimmjow XD.
Warning for rating change (because Ichigo and Rukia couldn't get their hands off each other XD)
It all started with Grimmjow's words that got into Ichigo's head during their somewhat routine outing (playing billiards, bowling, having drinks, trying out new bars) once or twice a month (because they were both adults now with their own job and professional life).
Grimmjow poured another glass of alcohol and tilted his funny stupid head slightly as he said, "I think you're sexually frustrated,"
Ichigo paused midway when he was about to take another sip of his sparkling water, staring dumbfoundedly at his high school best friend, and said, "...what the hell?"
Grimmjow had questioned it before on that one time when he picked Ichigo up from the airport after his friend's long flight from Boston to Tokyo for God knows how many times–it was either Chad, Renji, or Grimmjow who always dropped Ichigo off to or picked Ichigo up from the airport whenever he left Japan to visit his girlfriend in America.
Grimmjow knew Ichigo always visited his girlfriend whenever he had the chance. When it concerned his relationship with his Kuchiki girlfriend, Ichigo had a totally real dedication.
"So, what's the arrangement here?" Grimmjow asked, his body leaning on his red Ferrari.
Ichigo raised an eyebrow at him, threw his bag to the front seat, and walked to the car's trunk.
"When is the end goal? How long do you have to go back and forth, back and forth, between Japan and the States?"
Ichigo lifted and put his big suitcase in Grimmjow's trunk. "Three to four years? Five years tops?" Ichigo shrugged and answered it nonchalantly.
Grimmjow narrowed his eyes. His mind wandered.
The blue-haired ex-Karakura's number-one high school jock got in the driver's seat. "You're telling me that you will have to fly from here to there or she will have to fly from there to here every time?"
Ichigo nodded. He, of all people, knew how hard a long-distance relationship was. He didn't need other people to tell it to his face.
"Damn, for fucking four years, really?" Grimmjow asked again.
Ichigo rolled his eyes. "What are you being so noisy for?"
Grimmjow was still stunned. "Really?"
Ichigo nodded and mumbled 'it doesn't matter, I'm happy to.'
And Grimmjow shook his head. "Man, that's one hella costly booty call,"
Ichigo only groaned. Yes, it was.
While talking about Kurosaki Ichigo's somehow private love life, we could categorize it in a timeline consisting of 5 phases; 1) the pre-Rukia Kuchiki, 2) High school Rukia Kuchiki, 3) Boston Rukia Kuchiki (the long-distance relationship days), 4) 17 months of Ichigo moping and longing when he lost his high school sweetheart, 5) Their adult relationship days–post those pathetic 17 months–and the happy ever after for eternity.
At this point, we were in the middle of the "Boston-Rukia phase". Ichigo had been in a relationship with Kuchiki for almost four years (2 years in a long-distance relationship).
On Fridays, when Ichigo didn't have his mandatory weekly dinner with his future Kuchiki brother and sister-in-law, Grimmjow "kidnapped" his best friend from the hospital to spend a night out, to drink, to catch up on each other's lives, but all in all, to make sure that Ichigo still had him as his "cool" friend (since the orange-haired medical intern was surrounded by no one but brainy nerds these days and spending too much time with Ichigo's own flatmate, Ishida, would surely make Ichigo corrupted, Grimmjow thought).
"So, how the hell does that even work?" Grimmjow asked, stopping at another red light.
"What do you mean?" Ichigo asked, having just gotten off the call with his girlfriend of three–almost four–years that was thousands of kilometers away from him.
Grimmjow's eyes were back on the road when the light turned green. His red Ferrari made a smooth, racing sound as the car started moving.
After almost 10 minutes of just driving around and listening to his best friend talk to his Kuchiki princess girlfriend on the phone as the two made their way to their favorite bar, Grimmjow just scoffed. "This whole long-distance relationship bullcrap," he clicked his tongue.
Ichigo raised an eyebrow, "Huh? What are you saying?"
"I kinda pity you but I'm also kinda worried about it, ya know?" Grimmjow started again, waving around the tiny glass of liquor in his hand.
Ichigo frowned. His long-distance relationship with Rukia was doing fine.
Relationships were hard. Long-distance relationships were even harder. But it was doable. Yeah, there were ups and downs but Ichigo and Rukia were doing it just fine. It was only going to be four years and they had made it for two years already, they were already halfway through it. They would make it work and when Rukia came home to him, there would be no distance between them anymore.
"Stop saying vague things and just get to the point," Ichigo replied, watching Grimmjow pour, again, another glass for himself. Ichigo didn't drink, not when he would have a morning shift at the weekend the next day.
Grimmjow poured another glass of alcohol and tilted his funny stupid head slightly as he said, "I think you're sexually frustrated,"
Ichigo paused midway when he was about to take another sip of his sparkling water, staring dumbfoundedly at his high school best friend, "...what the hell?"
Grimmjow only rolled his eyes. "When was the last time you got laid?"
Ichigo choked on his drink again and spurted out. He coughed multiple times and Grimmjow patted him on the back to help him breathe easier.
"What's the matter with you?" The doctor-in-training was annoyed and his face was red. Here Grimmjow thought losing his V card would make Ichigo at least stop being that shy when it concerned anything sensual or intimate.
"I'm not talking about this with you for God's sake," Ichigo added.
Grimmjow shook his head. "I'm just curious. How the fuck does this work?" He asked. "These dry spells, Ichigo. How long do they fucking last?"
Grimmjow was not stopping. "How do you do this, huh? You just automatically switch on your hidden celibacy talent when she is away?"
How did people in long-distance relationships overcome the lack of physical intimacy by being apart?
"We're not talking about this," Ichigo was still scowling.
Grimmjow scoffed. It was just typical of Ichigo. Had been friends with him since they were in middle school (although they had a little bit of a falling out in high school and just reformed their friendship now in their final year), Grimmjow never really remembered any time Ichigo opened up or talked about something sexual.
Ichigo wasn't the type of guy to swagger and brag and talk about his conquests like some lame dudes. He had always been shy about his intimate moments with Kuchiki where he surrendered his macho facade and "tough guy" image as he succumbed to her touch like a puppy and melted into his lover's arms.
And Ichigo was mostly old-school, he was a gentleman, and gentlemen never kiss and tell. Because Ichigo had always been like that.
What happened between him and the love of his life was between them and only them. And when it came to Kuchiki, Ichigo was really a greedy man. If he had someone that special to him, if he had something good in his life and between the sheets, he'd want to hoard it and regard it the way a pirate would regard his treasure.
Grimmjow knew, but that didn't stop him from prying.
"I just read this article," the blue-haired young hotel heir started again. Ichigo had always been a rude asshole. In his defense, Grimmjow was just being a concerned and curious friend. What was wrong with that?
Ichigo grunted and complained, "Do I want to hear this?"
But that didn't stop his best friend from pulling out his phone and reading the article out loud from a website called .com or something.
"Bad stuff that could happen to your body when you don't get laid for a while…"
"Grimmjow…" Ichigo was having a migraine just hearing him talk.
"Number one, you get nuts," it was actually saying 'you get stressed a lot,' but Grimmjow had his own words.
That made sense because Ichigo was getting a lot more stressed lately. Once or twice it was the strawberry himself that initiated going out and drinking (it was actually because Ichigo's med school tasks were a lot crazier).
"You lose sleep,"
Grimmjow noticed the dark circles under Ichigo's eyes (actually Ichigo had been facing insomnia since he was in high school. His insomnia got better when Rukia was around, physically or through video calls, but the 13 hours time difference made it kind of harder for her to make time just to help him drift to sleep. That. And he had night shifts almost 4 days a week).
Ichigo massaged his forehead. "Please stop talking,"
It was written 'it could affect your cognitive function,' Grimmjow actually shook his head on this one.
"Man, I didn't know dry spell turned you into a fucking dumbass,"
"It doesn't," Ichigo replied, still massaging his forehead. He was the one who was studying medicine. He knew an article like this was mostly not supported by the best quality of studies. They were mostly claims.
Grimmjow didn't listen to Ichigo though. "...more likely to have prostate cancer… spike in blood pressure… heart disease…" he scrolled and scrolled and scrolled and Ichigo was this close to losing his shit.
"What the fuck? You actually could die by not getting laid."
"No, you moron," Ichigo mumbled under his breath.
Grimmjow took another big gulp of his drink and patted Ichigo's back multiple times. His eyes were still glued to that stupid article of his.
"Ichigo, oi, Ichigo, listen to this one, this is a fucking good one."
"What?"
"Your rhythm gets thrown off the next time you're doing it,"
A pause.
And Grimmjow smirked at the way Ichigo's amber eyes widened.
"Wait, what, really?" Ichigo asked, finally paying attention to his friend.
Grimmjow had fun watching the change in his amber eyes, from widened to narrowed to slit.
Well, that.
That made sense.
And it was something that Ichigo legitimately could be worried about.
Seeing how Ichigo looked genuinely worried and snatched Grimmjow's phone to read about it more, the blue-haired hotel heir roared in laughter, "Kurosaki you fucking dog."
He actually cared about his performance more than fucking dying because of prostate cancer?
Ichigo groaned and scratched his hair, eyes still glued to Grimmjow's phone in his hand. "Shut up…"
Grimmjow could only think just how much certified whipped his best friend was. All he cared about was Kuchiki, Kuchiki, Kuchiki, and Kuchiki. Ichigo was a lost cause. Of course, he would care more about worshiping her than anything. She had always been his number one priority.
Ichigo was still religiously reading the explanation of how he could fall off his saddle if he didn't get into action for a while and Grimmjow scoffed when Ichigo finally gave up on his no-alcohol policy and poured himself a glass.
"I need a drink," His voice was hoarse and Grimmjow truly laughed this time.
Ichigo devoured his drink in one quick gulp and quickly poured himself another and another and another, completely forgetting about his morning shift tomorrow.
Seriously, men...
Ichigo didn't know if Grimmjow was just a concerned friend or he just had all the time in this world–slacking off as the sole hotel owner and heir–or he was just plain having a blast making fun of him.
But since that day, Grimmjow always sent him links to articles about 'how to avoid being sexually frustrated during long-distance relationship' or 'tips and tricks to have the burning fire alive during long-distance relationships' or 'how to overcome dry spells when she is away', and more, and more.
There were some things that those articles said would help.
For one, Ichigo could, you know–how to phrase it nicely—start calling his hands Rukia 1 and Rukia 2 again while thinking about her in the shower.
Or he could get more physically active to get better in shape and release his pent-up testosterone (and it was more healthy too).
But mostly, almost all the articles Grimmjow had been sending him (Ichigo wouldn't ever admit that he did click those links) said that the best remedy for the lack of physical intimacy in a long-distance relationship was to try to spice things up a little.
Keep the burning steamy romance alive.
You know. Phone sex, FaceTime sex, sexting.
Ichigo would be lying if he said he never thought about it before. Because he did. He did, more than once, but he just didn't know how to bring it up to Rukia. After all, maybe everyone was right, deep down Ichigo was just a prude. It would be an awkward subject to approach and a difficult adjustment to make. He didn't know what to expect. He knew he wanted to try it, but did Rukia want to? Was she comfortable enough to do it?
Ichigo had always been a gentleman and he always held the importance of consent dearly. They might have been dating for years and Ichigo knew all Rukia's boundaries, her likes and her dislikes like the back of his hand (heck in almost 2 years of being in a sexually-active relationship, Ichigo could almost picture every part of Rukia's body in his head and describe her preferences between the sheets in almost perfect details), but it was still new territory and–
Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose as he clicked another link Grimmjow sent him this morning. He took another spoon of his morning cereal and read that online article like a morning newspaper. 'Fool-Proof Ways to Keep The Steam and Fire Alive in Your Long-distance Relationship'.
His days continued. And it was just common knowledge that the longer they were apart, the harder it was for him.
Ichigo had been in a foul mood. For almost a week now. He had been in a really, really foul mood since his girlfriend told him over the phone call a week ago that something came up and she had to reschedule her flight for another two months.
Another two freaking months.
It had been 6 months since the last time Ichigo got to hold the love of his life in his arms.
6 months. And now it will be 8 months.
(Congratulations on the new record, Ichigo really thought he deserved a medal for that).
Ichigo and Rukia. They had never been apart that long before. The longest was 6 months. The average time they took to just get on the plane to see each other in person was 3 months. Although it did cost him a lot, and the plane ride was damn tiring, the moment Ichigo got to kiss her and touch her and have her in his arms again, Ichigo knew it was all worth it. Rukia was always worth it.
Today was Saturday. Rukia was supposed to be coming home to him this Saturday evening after a 14 hours flight from Boston to Tokyo. After his tiring shift at the hospital, Ichigo was supposed to take a shower and get a nice sleep until he had to wake up in the afternoon and drive to the airport to pick his girlfriend up.
Then they would go for a nice dinner and Ichigo would take Rukia home and kiss her and hold her in his arms and tell her and show her just how much he missed her all night long and he got to pretend that night wouldn't change into another day and he wouldn't have to lose her to Boston again the next day. Or the next day after that.
Instead–
Today was Saturday. Ichigo had just signed out from the hospital after a really dreadful shift at the packed ER. The pinned notification on his lock screen from an application called How Many Days–how many days until the date Rukia promised she'd be home, or how many days until he got another stamp on his passport to see her–reminded him in bold letters that there would be 62 days more without her.
Ichigo frowned and shoved his phone into his pocket. He grabbed another takeaway hotdog from the hotdog stand in front of the hospital building and ate it as he rode his bicycle to his flat.
He didn't get any sleep last night, he was tired, angry, hungry, and just in a really, really foul mood. The kind of foul mood that his friends and family knew would never get better unless he got on the plane to Boston or she got on the plane to Tokyo.
They tried to understand that at some point, if they ever reached the tolerable threshold of being apart, Ichigo just literally just stopped working without Rukia–that he just basically didn't function right without her, and that he couldn't keep up–the speed of the world without her in it.
They tried to understand. Ichigo just missed his girlfriend oh-so-goddamn-much.
Relationships were hard. Long-distance relationships were even harder. Especially when they were in the exact opposite parts of the world–more than 10.000 kilometers apart, with 13 hours time difference between Tokyo and Boston. Ichigo watched the sunset as Rukia watched the sunrise, Ichigo prepared breakfast as Rukia prepared dinner, and vice versa.
Both made a commitment to make things work. It was a hard decision but they were both still so young with so much room to grow as individuals and both agreed–if anything–this long-distance relationship could be an opportunity to deepen their bond and strengthen their emotional intimacy.
However, as expected, it was not that easy to make it through the long haul.
There was the longing, pining, and missing each other like crazy, but Ichigo very well knew that one of the hardest parts of being in a long-distance relationship was undoubtedly the lack of physical intimacy.
Then there were Grimmjow's words again. His words got into Ichigo's head since they came out of his stupid big mouth.
He wasn't sexually frustrated, was he? He wasn't going to fall off his saddle the moment he got to hold Rukia back in his arms, was he?
Ichigo insisted he wasn't. It had been 6 months without Rukia, and he was coping. He was. And he could make it in an additional 2 months, couldn't he?
But Ichigo knew while their routine texting, phone calls, video calls, and virtual dates helped, they did not do justice to replace the moments he got to have Rukia physically by his side.
Ichigo sighed as he got home and took off his shoes and went straight to the bathroom. He turned the shower knob and his thoughts–his wandering thoughts–just wouldn't leave him alone.
Ichigo couldn't stop thinking about how much he missed her.
He missed kissing Rukia, holding her tightly in his arms, touching her, and having her completely as his.
He missed waking up to her–her beautiful face that made him think he was looking at the most beautiful piece of art every single time he saw her.
He missed the sweet scent of her hair and the way her dark locks were tousled from their activities the night before and the morning after, and the way they contrasted his white pillows, black and white.
He missed the softness of her lips on his, he missed kissing her until they were both breathless, he missed leaving all those red marks over her collarbone and the column of her neck (the marks–love bites–that said that she was his, Rukia was his and his only and Ichigo was hers, completely hers).
He missed touching her in places he only and he alone got to touch, he missed hearing the sounds she made and the breathless sound of his name–IchigoIchigoIchigoIchigo–on her lips when he worshiped her completely as she deserved–like a Goddess–because that was just what Rukia was to him. A goddess.
God. Sometimes. Sometimes it was just that hard.
Ichigo missed her so goddamn much it was too unbearable.
He placed his left hand on the bathroom wall, his head hung low as he felt the hot shower hit him and the water ran down his naked torso, his broad trapezium, his eight-packs, and lower and lower down until they made puddles under his feet.
There was a memory. Was it the last time he visited her in Boston? Was it the time before that? It was one of the best Ichigo had ever had.
Under the shower, with her, there were her laughs and soft moans–vividly clear in his ears, there were her arms circled around his neck before her fingers moved up to create havoc in his hair, her chest pressed tightly against his bare broad torso, his toned arms keeping her bare thighs wrapped around his waist, as he had Rukia trapped between him and the shower glass and they laughed and nuzzled each other's noses and kissed and kissed until their jaws were sore and Ichigo said something against her neck before he sucked and left marks, whispered things in her ear–how much he missed her, or how much he loved her, and also his lousy pick-up lines–and just like every time he attempted to seduce her with his flirting since they were 16, his lines never failed to make her smile and laugh.
Ichigo missed Rukia. He missed her. He missed her so much.
Ichigo switched the shower knob from cold to hot and watched as the hot water made steams on the shower glass.
He closed his eyes and pictured Rukia again. All of her, all of–
"Rukia…" Ichigo moaned softly, almost breathlessly.
Let him have this. He was tired. He was in a really foul mood. He needed some release.
And he missed the love of his life like a freaking madman.
Rukia. Rukia. Rukia. Rukia.
Sexually frustrated. Fucking hell, maybe Grimmjow was right. Ichigo cursed silently.
He imagined hearing Rukia's voice–calling his name over and over again. Maybe if he imagined her voice hard enough, it would become real, and–
"Kurosaki!"
Except it was not Rukia's voice that filled the bathroom.
The loud yell and rough knocks on his bathroom door broke all the vivid imagination Ichigo had at the moment.
It was Ishida. His noisy roommate and dear cousin.
Ichigo groaned in annoyance this time and his right hand stopped whatever it was he was clearly trying to do.
"Kurosaki, oi!"
More loud knocks.
"What?" Ichigo yelled back, his voice husky and hoarse and dangerous and just really, really tired. Forget about the long, hot shower, Ishida's voice alone had successfully ruined the mood.
Ichigo grunted as he switched back the shower knob from hot to cold. Hell. Why couldn't Ishida let him have this?
Ichigo was tired, angry, sad, and horny. Couldn't Ishida cut him some slack?
"You've been in there for almost one hour, I swear to God, if you're running out of our hot water again, I'm not pitching in for the water bills!"
This noisy, stingy bastard.
Ichigo sighed.
"Kurosaki, I am already late to–!"
Ichigo opened the bathroom door, hair damps and only clad in his towel, and looking really, really, really annoyed with that deep frown on his handsome face.
"All yours," he bumped Uryuu hard on the shoulder and there was a comical annoyed cross on the blue-haired medical student's forehead.
When Ichigo got into his room to change, he heard another Uryuu shriek from the bathroom when the cold shower hit him.
"I am not paying for the water bills, Kurosaki!"
Ichigo only scoffed as he put on his t-shirt and pants, tried to tame his messy spiky hair a little, and looked for his phone and car keys on his desk.
Ichigo walked past the bathroom and heard Uryuu was still bitching about him. "Goddamnit, Kurosaki!"
But one of the things Ichigo was really good at (from sharing a flat with Ishida in the last two years) was ignoring his roommate completely.
The door closed softly behind him and Uryuu yelled again to no one now in their empty apartment, "do you know how much we had to pay for water bills last month, Kurosaki?!"
His phone was pressed between his cheek and his shoulder as Ichigo greeted the one person he couldn't get out of his mind of every single time he woke up in the morning and went to bed at night, "hey,"
"Hey," Rukia replied. She always sounded softer on the phone.
Ichigo missed her so much.
Who was he kidding? Hearing Rukia's voice, her actual voice was always a thousand times better than the one he imagined in the bathroom.
Would it be nice to hear her voice when he committed that act in the bathroom earlier? Or would it be nice to see her face as he did that? Ichigo was a man with needs. We couldn't really blame him then for having his testosterone-driven Lizard brain make all the blood rush down there as he imagined things they could do when they were apart.
"...you know, and I wasn't–Ichigo? Are you listening to me?" Rukia was telling him about her day and how many tasks she had, working as Ukitake's research assistant.
Ichigo sighed as he started his car engine. "I am,"
Rukia literally had no clue about how far his mind had wandered. "Okay, so, as I was saying, Professor Ukitake–"
Listening to her voice, Ichigo could only think about how much he missed it, to have her praising him between the sheets, let out in a breathless whisper between her soft moans.
Ichigo pulled on his collar.
Hell. Maybe Grimmjow was right after all.
No matter how much he tried to deny–that Grimmjow was wrong, that He wasn't sexually frustrated, that he wasn't having dry spells–Ichigo knew there was some kind of truth to that but he refused to admit it.
But he was coping.
Ichigo was coping in many ways. He was coping the best way he could.
While physical intimacy did involve closeness, touching, kissing, and sex, Ichigo knew that intimacy as a whole was made with trust and connection. So, he compensated for the lack of it with deeper emotional intimacy.
Rukia knew Ichigo was this close to getting past the bearable threshold of being apart from Ichigo's more frequent calls and video calls or when Ichigo requested more frequent virtual dates amidst his packed schedule during his clerkship days. Seeing his face on video calls never failed to bring up a smile on Rukia's beautiful face.
Rukia also knew it from the delivery packages of Ichigo's surprise gifts on her door. When Ichigo was being the true sap he was, sometimes Rukia would find flowers that said 'I miss you', not in words but in the colors and types of flowers he chose. Sometimes she could also find the chocolate truffle and Chappy plushies. Sometimes it was just the simple things that mattered like her comfort or favorite food when she told him she had a rough day.
Emotionally, Ichigo got more attached to Rukia. They filled the lack of physical intimacy with much, much stronger emotional intimacy and that was a very good thing.
Physically, Ichigo coped with more physical exercises to blow off steam and avoid being sexually frustrated.
Kenpachi–the owner of the boxing ring and physical training ground Ichigo had been practicing at since he was still in high school–knew Ichigo was running out of that "Rukia-battery" if he made more frequent appearances in his boxing ring.
His sparring partners–Ichigo's ex-seniors at Karakura High, Yumichika, and Ikkaku–knew it too.
Ichigo visited the boxing ring more in the late evening after his hospital shifts. He did more sit-ups and push-ups to get more in shape and sometimes during those difficult days his punches got more violent and desperate.
Ikkaku commented on it when he dodged another punch from the orange-haired medical intern and, "Kuchiki's been away that long, huh?"
Renji, watching from outside the boxing ring, picked his ear and chuckled, "has it been 7 months now, Ichigo?"
It was 7 months and 1 week and 2 days.
Ichigo never needed anyone to remind him just how much he missed his girlfriend. He frowned and landed another violent punch on Ikkaku's cheek, "you guys are so noisy,"
"Let him be, Ikkaku," Yumichika chuckled, also from outside the boxing ring. If punching Ikkaku could help him release his pent-up sexual energy, so be it.
"You know I heard that exercising also helps you perform and last better in bed, so who knows, punching Ikkaku like a madman may help you get back on the saddle when our beautiful Kuchiki-san comes home and–"
Ichigo landed another punch on Yumichika's cheek instead.
Sometimes the boxing ring wasn't enough. Karin and Yuzu knew if Ichigo was this close to breaking from missing his girlfriend like crazy if he did visit their old home back in Karakura more often than necessary and deliberately indulged himself in a fight with their foolish father ("How long has it been, son?! Listen to your old man, I know better than anyone about how to handle never-ending dry spells–").
Sometimes getting in a fight with his dad wasn't enough either. He needed an outlet to release his pent-up testosterone in competition and sometimes Ichigo did that by challenging his future-brother-in-law in a gruesome tennis match.
Hisana, Ichigo's future sister-in-law, sipped her tea elegantly and smiled knowingly as she watched her-also-competitive-husband pant and get his ass handed to him after 7 sets of a gruesome tennis match. Byakuya-sama was many things. But just not better than Ichigo in tennis or any other sports (even golf).
Ichigo was grinning (beating Byakuya in a tennis match was much, much better than kicking ass in the boxing ring against Ikkaku or Yumichika or brawling with his dad). And Byakuya was sulking already.
Hisana texted Rukia then, "come home soon, please? Your brother has been beaten twice already. He is not happy. PS: Ichi-honey needs his daily dose of Rukia."
Ichigo also tried to cope by spending more time outside when he wasn't swamped with work at the hospital. He rarely spent time in his apartment, because the apartment he shared with Ishida had pretty thin walls, and Ishida and Orihime (still so early in their honeymoon phase since they got together) were on it like rabbits. And Ichigo just didn't want to be there to listen to every praise Orihime had for his cousin.
He usually drove to Renji's place instead, but these days, not once or twice he caught the redhead having his secret girlfriend over. It was evident in the way Renji opened his door with nothing but his sleeping robes and started mumbling like an idiot, "ugh, sorry, Ichigo, not a good time," and when Ichigo tilted his head slightly to look past his shoulders, there was definitely a woman there on his bed.
Chad was another option but these days he made more frequent trips to Abuelo's hometown in Mexico and Keigo and Mizuiro suspected that maybe Chad had gotten married already to a beautiful Mexican lady but just didn't want to tell his friends.
All in all, it was hard for Ichigo to concentrate on sulking about his girlfriend with all that real sex going on.
So, where did that leave him?
At his Godparents' cafe not far from his old high school, apparently.
"Running out of the Rukia battery again?" Yoruichi asked with that amused glint in her golden eyes. It was always amusing to see her godson who acted tough all the time became somewhat just a lost puppy every time his little Kuchiki princess girlfriend was away for too long.
Ichigo narrowed his eyes. Why did everyone ask him that?
"So what if she is away, huh?" There was still that amused glint in her eyes. "Pick up the phone and call her, Ichigo,"
Her Godson snorted. He didn't need to be told that. He called Rukia every day. Just now he had just gotten off an an-hour phone call with her.
But Yoruichi still had that mischievous smirk on her face, "Pick up the phone, and call her, you brat."
Oh.
Oh. That.
Ichigo's face turned crimson and Yoruichi's grin got wider.
He scratched his neck nervously and Yoruichi knew Ichigo was an adult now–not at all that blushing 16-year-old virgin anymore–but it turned out he had always been that same prude Yoruichi loved to tease.
He almost stammered, "You… you really think, you really think she won't mind?"
The Goddess of seduction laughed. "You really know nothing about women, do you, Ichigo?"
She winked at her godson and Kuchiki Rukia would have to thank her later.
Ichigo made it. He made it through the additional 62 days without her. The long haul was, undeniably, hard, especially for Ichigo.
But difficult times always came with better rewards.
It was magical. The moment he got to have Rukia back in his arms again after torturous 8 months without her (their longest record, what the heck), was, Ichigo couldn't stress this enough, truly magical.
The early morning sun rays peeked through the curtain covering the huge glass windows in Ichigo's apartment. It was morning already. Rukia was going to be home for only 7 days. He waited 8 months for 7 days and Ichigo thought how cruel life was. It was morning already, a day had passed and they only had 6 days left.
Ichigo frowned. The mental reminder came back. Rukia would leave again. And Ichigo would have to reset the days on that application on his phone, 'How Many Days', how many days more to see her.
But Ichigo didn't want to dwell on that. Not now.
Last night. Last night was amazing beyond words. They were at it almost all night. Ichigo was damn sure he could give the writer of that article on .com and that crazy asshat Grimmjow a middle finger because he proved to himself that those long 8 months without Rukia wouldn't throw off his rhythm because just what the fuck?
Ichigo sighed and pulled Rukia's bare back closer to him against his naked torso, his strong toned arm enveloped her tiny waist.
He left a trail of kisses on Rukia's neck, all the way to the milky fair skin on her shoulder. There were two or three reddish love bites he gave her last night on the column of her neck, there were more, hidden in places he only got to see.
Ichigo wasn't exactly gentle last night and it wasn't like Rukia was complaining.
Even after having her completely as his last night, after finally having her in his bed again after being apart, Ichigo was still missing her. He inhaled the scent of her hair. He missed this scent.
Rukia stirred in her sleep and slowly opened her eyes. She was always so goddamn beautiful in his eyes, like this, naked in his bed, her shoulder-length black hair spread across his white pillows.
"Hey," Ichigo murmured against the smooth skin on her neck and Rukia sighed. It was the moment of waking up like this in Ichigo's warm embrace that she missed more than anything.
She tilted her head slightly to face him and murmured, "morning,"
Her hand came up, fingers tangling in his hair, tenderly moving down across his cheek, tracing the line of his mouth and he playfully kissed her fingers.
It was going to be hard to pull away from him, "Ichigo," he nuzzled his nose in her hair again, "we have to…" Rukia glanced at the clock on the wall as Ichigo grazed his nose against her neck again. She let out another sigh, "we have to be at Nii-sama's in 30 minutes,"
Rukia could feel the cocky smirk on her skin, "then we still have time,"
"Aren't you tired from last night?" she asked, amused.
He chuckled again, "tired of what?" He pulled her waist closer from behind, her body completely pressed against his and Rukia smiled, content and happy.
Rukia knew Ichigo was something else last night. He was different. Different amazing in words she could not describe.
She knew there was something. Rukia knew Ichigo like the back of her hand. He couldn't hide a thing from her. There was desperation in his kisses and touch and his urgent kisses when he was mad or desperate or frustrated were just something else.
"Was it that hard, Ichigo?"
Those long 8 months without her.
"It was," he told her, leaving kisses on her inner wrist, then Ichigo's lips moved upward, along the inside of her arm to the tickly crook of her elbow, to her shoulder blade now, before turning their attention to her neck once again.
It was really hard for Rukia too.
"The next time won't be that long, I promise I will try to schedule it with Professor Ukitake," she told him as she ran her fingers through his hair once again.
Ichigo's kisses on her neck were distracting but Rukia had always good self-control and she was always the one who offered him consolation when he needed one.
He nodded, "I will see what I can do about my shifts too," Ichigo tried to be mature about it but his trademark scowl when he was sulking was still there.
Rukia shifted her body and turned around to face him this time. She wrapped her arms around him in return, her body was pressed against him and it was her eyes that drew him in instantly like a magnet. She was always so beautiful, so perfect. She raised both her eyebrows at him and Rukia drew him toward her with her eyes, and Ichigo just couldn't help it, he inclined his face toward hers and lay his mouth on hers.
Ichigo kissed her. He kissed her so hard–kissing her each and every time he didn't get to kiss her when she was away.
And Rukia kissed him back fiercely, running her hands through his hair and whispered his name softly under her breath over and over, until he moaned and groaned through his teeth.
And no matter how much they kissed last night to the point their jaws were sore, and even as they were kissing each other, kissing each other, and kissing each other, they both still wanted more, more, and more as they could never get enough.
"You know," Rukia said between kisses, "I almost think that long time apart was worth it?"
Ichigo grunted and bit and nibbled on her lower lip teasingly, "I can't do another 8 months, Rukia." He complained. Because Ichigo always complained.
While Grimmjow and .com were wrong about his performance in bed, Grimmjow was right about the other things: this long haul–it drove him nuts, it made him restless, it made him desperate.
Rukia hummed and traced the line of his lips. "Ichigo?" She asked, her eyes glinting in a seductive amusement Ichigo was too familiar with, "How did you cope?"
It was typical of Rukia to ask that carelessly, innocently when they both knew what she implied behind that question was clearly something more. She watched as Ichigo's honey amber eyes got darkened with intent and arousal and the corner of her pretty lips curled up slightly–amused–and Ichigo just knew she did that on purpose.
Ichigo pulled away slightly to shift their position, and Rukia loved having the weight of his body on top of hers. She could feel him–all of him–pressed against hers and his hands were everywhere.
"How did I cope?" Ichigo asked, his honest honey-amber eyes heated on hers. He knew what she was talking about. There was no hiding from her. His voice was husky and teasing and–
"I took extra long hot showers until Ishida refused to pay the water bills,"
–and he was still her dork.
Rukia laughed. This fool.
But Ichigo had done it. He had set up the mood to actually talk about it with her, an opportunity to actually ask for her consent without being too awkward about it. Telling her that he wanted to do more during her time away to help him cope, asking her if she was comfortable and okay with that.
"Really? It must be a really long shower then?" Rukia teased back.
She traced the hard muscles on his chest, shoulders, and arms, down to his abdomen–feeling that his stomach was hard, dipped, and rippled in all the right places. It was not just the long showers, Rukia knew he worked out too.
"Not really," Ichigo scowled but still looked adorable and handsome at the same time. "Ishida's angry voice through the door didn't do it for me,"
Rukia almost laughed again. Trust Ichigo to be sexy and dorky at the same time.
She raised her eyebrows and there was that mischievous glint in her eyes again. At that moment Ichigo did know they both shared one brain cell and Ichigo could only think about how he couldn't have wanted her more.
"Would it help if it were my voice instead?" She whispered in his ear and her hand made it down and down–her eyes were never off his all the way, looking at him playfully–and teased him down there and Ichigo just almost completely lost it.
"Damnit, Rukia," he groaned breathlessly and stopped her hand. He wouldn't last if she did that.
"What?" She laughed. "We only have 30 minutes,"
Rukia laughed again but she complied to stop and Ichigo stared down at her, trapped beneath him and his strong arms, his eyes went to her eyes then to her lips then to her eyes again. His gaze was so intent and heated and Rukia just melted. He positioned himself between her legs and she made room for him and Rukia wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist to bring him closer to her.
"Rukia," Ichigo almost growled again when she arched her back to press against him there on purpose, "Later when we are apart again, do you really want to…,"
She smiled again. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were swollen from his kisses, and God, she was just too pretty.
"Want what?" She just wanted to hear him say it.
Ichigo didn't know why it made him nervous to bring it up when everything always felt right with Rukia. Everything always felt easy with her.
He murmured against her neck again and his hands and fingers got greedy and wandered to places only Ichigo and Ichigo alone got to touch and Rukia's words were lost as breathy whispers.
Ichigo scowled, he knew she was teasing him. "You know, spice it up a little bit–?"
"Spice it up?" Rukia laughed again and it was like a melody in his ears. She was amused. Ichigo did read too many online articles to say it like that.
Spice up the relationship. Keep the fire burning alive. Keep it steamy when being apart. Whatever words she preferred.
"Stop teasing," his scowl got deeper and he looked adorable and Rukia thought about how much she was in love with him.
Rukia knew what he asked of her. She had thought about it too. More than once actually.
"Okay, let's try it sometime," she whispered again–still making eyes at him.
She held his face with both hands again and said, softly, intimately, and only for him and him only, "Later, you have to… you have to tell me what you want to do to me, Ichigo,"
"I know," he groaned again, "God, Rukia, I want to–," his voice ended up as a breathy whisper and Rukia gasped as Ichigo finally made the move.
Clinging to one another, they explored each other in ways they both were all too familiar with, and began to move together in a carefully measured rhythm.
All the while, murmured rough and low, Ichigo told things in Rukia's ear–all the things he would want to do to her, with her, when she was away–
–and this time, Rukia didn't laugh, because while almost all of Ichigo's pick-up lines were ridiculous, Rukia knew it now then, Ichigo pretty much had a good grasp of the concept of dirty talking.
In the end, they reset the days and restarted the cycle.
This time it would be another 3 months without one another.
And they both agreed to try, you know, spice it up, keep the fire alive once in a while when they were apart before they got to see each other again.
Ichigo remembered it was on another Saturday morning after a dreadful shift. He was buying another takeaway hot dog and walking to his bike when a text from Rukia suddenly popped up on his notification.
Rukia texted him, "home yet?"
She didn't say much in words but Rukia was very fluent with emojis: the smiling devil emoji + hiding monkey face emoji + lip bite emoji + eggplant emoji + water splash emoji + peach emoji + tongue emoji, and in the end, Rukia had the audacity to add the Halo Face emoji AND the rabbit emoji (whatever that meant).
Ichigo laughed at that one Rabbit emoji as he typed, "Go home, Chappy, you're not old enough to see this," before he quickly got on his bike and rode home (as fast as he could).
They both knew the basic, unsaid concepts of phone sex or sexting or video-call sex; while they both knew the best ones were actually the spontaneous ones, Ichigo and Rukia understood the importance of knowing the time and space and consent. It was 8 AM when Ichigo got off his shift, so it was probably around 8 or 9 PM in Boston at Rukia's.
They usually started with some flirtatious messages when one wanted to tell the other that she or he was in the mood, and sometimes they would exchange some suggestive photos before Ichigo (it was always Ichigo) lost it first and just instantly started to call or video-call her to hear her voice and see her face.
"Shower first, wait a sec," Ichigo typed with one hand as he quickly discarded his shoes, socks, and clothes and got in the shower.
It was a (really) quick shower, and when Ichigo got back in his room, Rukia already sent him a pic of her beautiful face lying there on her side, her hair spread on her pillows, and while it was nothing really suggestive since her chest was covered by her bedsheet, Ichigo could see her bare shoulder all the way up to her neck and she was just so Goddamn beautiful that actually, Rukia didn't have to do anything really because her beautiful face alone with those bedroom eyes were more than enough to turn him on.
"Need you," she added as a caption, and God, Ichigo wished he had a magic door that would just take him to her place in a second.
The consent was alright, the time and space were already perfect, and it was going all well. Ichigo–still clad only in his white towel–then stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom. His right hand held the phone while his left arm flexed his strong muscle and gripped his towel dangerously low on his hip. It was nothing explicit but quite suggestive. He planned to show her his now-definitely-eight packs he proudly got from running a marathon and hitting the gym every Sunday. Ichigo quickly clicked capture without too much thought and sent the picture.
Ichigo chuckled boyishly as he typed the caption, "no matter how many cold showers I take, I still can't stop thinking about you, Rukia,"
–And just clicked 'send', again, without too much thought.
He scratched his neck nervously as he giddily waited for Rukia's response and the handsome idiot literally smirked his trademark arrogant, cocky, boyish smirk when his phone rang just a minute later.
He raised his eyebrow. Really? Was his photo that good? It was usually him who cracked first and went straight for a phone call or a video call, it was rarely Rukia. Never Rukia.
Ichigo was ready with his seductive lines, "So inpatient–"
But he was abruptly cut by Rukia's panic and so-not-amused voice, "Ichigo, you idiot! Your crazy dad forwarded me a pic of you half-naked!"
Holyshitmotherfuckinghell–
Because we all know that, all in all–
–Kurosaki Ichigo had always been nothing but a handsome, sexy, dorky, big idiot.
The very first rule of sexting, Ichigo?
Always, always send it to the right contact.
OMAKE
Kurosaki Family group chat:
Kurosaki Karin: …
Kurosaki Yuzu: …
Kurosaki Karin: ICHI-NII WHAT THE HELL?!
Kurosaki Isshin: Gladly deliver the message to my third daughter, Rukia-chan, my son!
Kurosaki Isshin: *kissing emoji*
A/N: I told you it was random! Hahah I just wrote and wrote and somehow wished this story make sense on its own XD
I promise I will try to get back to Little Miracle and That's The Way It Happens, just give me time while I write random but the same scenarios and the same theme over and over again XD (At this point everyone should get it my fav IchiRuki trope is the long-distance relationship trope hahaha).
Take care, everyone!
Reviews are so much appreciated!
NB: sorry for the grammar mistakes!