He jolts awake in the middle of the night from a horrific dream involving Ichigo and a pair of faceless demons with dozens of knives for fingers. Cold sweat dots his clammy skin and Uryuu must focus to regulate his breathing. His pulse takes a bit more coaxing. Uryuu looks down at where Ichigo's arms encircle him, legs twined tidily together like three-dimensional puzzle pieces. He shifts back into the loose hold and releases a long, steadying exhale. Ichigo's warm breath puffs rhythmically against the back of his neck. Warmth radiates through their clothes—the ones they've managed to keep on in spite of themselves.

"Uryuu?" he sleepily murmurs, drawing a deeper breath with consciousness. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Bad dream."

Even with so little explanation, Ichigo seems to interpret the rest. His long fingers spread and splay over belly and heart. He nuzzles into Uryuu's hair and holds him tighter.

"I'm right here. Not going anywhere."

The implication sticks in his throat and delays his next inhale. Uryuu wants this. Wants it so much that his chest aches with it. Ichigo is right here, open and inviting. He bites his lip as he resists the equal urges to say silly romantic one-liners best left in a telenovela, versus direly dramatic statements of foreboding. His extended silence alerts Ichigo, who extricates his limbs from Uryuu to roll him to his back and hover above him. Ichigo's dark eyes flick over his face for a few seconds.

"Ichigo, I—"

He is cut off by a deliberate press of lips. Ichigo kisses him with all the vigor of a first embrace…or a final goodbye. His tongue is purposeful in Uryuu's mouth, using his leverage to command the pace and intensity of the kiss. Uryuu is too stunned to present much resistance. This Ichigo doesn't touch him like the raw, overbearing Shirosaki or the meek, unsure Kurosaki he comforted mere hours ago. This Ichigo drags a heavy palm over Uryuu's side, disregarding his shirt to follow the smooth line of him upward. This Ichigo pushes in and pulls back out with a salacious confidence that leaves Uryuu giddy for more.

This Ichigo is going to fucking ruin him.

"I don't want to hear it, Uryuu," he rumbles against his throat. "Not tonight."

Nibbling at the sensitive spot below his ear, Ichigo shoves a hand past Uryuu's hip under the waistband of his pants and cups a healthy handful of his ass. Uryuu twitches once at the unexpected pleasure and doesn't quite smother a moan. Running down his leg to the back of a knee, Ichigo uses the hold to create a space for himself. He sidles into the spot and leans their lower halves together. Uryuu's eyes flare wide and then snap shut at the sensation. His thighs come up to bracket Ichigo's hips of their own accord.

"Ichigo," he helplessly groans as the man starts moving.

He is sucking at Uryuu's collar bone, leaving little marks and canting his hips like Ichigo knows exactly what he needs. Slowly, agonizingly slowly. Uryuu can feel eyes on him, drinking in every sharp sip of air and startled flutter of eyelashes. Already at his limit for opposition, Uryuu gives up the fight and reaches for him. He pulls Ichigo into a hungry kiss and steals the man's enthusiastic sounds.

But he grows overeager, gripping at a forearm, and Ichigo makes another noise altogether. Uryuu pulls away at the slight grunt of pain. He rebukes himself for forgetting that Ichigo is still injured; despite actions to the contrary. He's shocked that the man can move so energetically, given his blood loss.

"Never mind it," Ichigo preempts his question. "I don't care."

"I don't want to hurt you. Ah—I have codeine! That will dull any discomfort."

"Forget it." He halts Uryuu with an unyielding arm before he can get out of bed. "It might dull the pain, but it'd dull the pleasure, too. I don't want to miss a single sensation, Uryuu."

At his fierce look, Uryuu can only nod dimly. Ichigo rewards him by dragging off Uryuu's shirt and attacking his chest with a frenzied series of kisses, licks, and gentle bites. Uryuu's hands flutter feather-light over Ichigo's skin, tracing down his back and settling safely at his steadily rolling hips. And it has been so long since Uryuu did anything like this. Even longer since it meant anything. The blood rampages haphazardly through him, indecisive about whether to rush to his head or his cock.

The decision is made when Ichigo snaps open his pants and tugs them down. Uryuu watches him lick his lips as he undresses him. The heat in that gaze triggers a quick succession of shivers that give rise to gooseflesh. Ichigo smirks at him, teasing with his expression at Uryuu's sensitivity.

"Shut up," he grumbles, reaching for the loose ties on Ichigo's borrowed bottoms. "Hurry up and get naked before I change my mind about this."

Ichigo obliges, gently tugging off his own shirt and shoving at his pants with Uryuu's assistance. He settles back in, slotting their hips together and propping himself up on elbows. Uryuu's hands go to his hair and drag him in for a rough kiss. There is a bit of nipping and maybe too much tongue but neither of them cares. Ichigo's erection is a hot, damp slide alongside his and the magic of that feeling alone defies words. The drag of Ichigo's fingertips down his sides, then carding through his hair, now tapping at the back of his neck are all welcome additions.

They part for breath after procrastinating as long as possible. Ichigo moans low against his ear as his pace stutters momentarily and Uryuu murmurs hearty encouragements. The rhythmic snap of his hips match Ichigo's almost perfectly, like this synchronicity is something that comes naturally to them. But Ichigo's movements slow as he pulls away to look into Uryuu's half-lidded eyes. He stops altogether and just stares, palms reverently brushing the sides of his face.

"Promise me you won't regret this."

Uryuu hesitates because he can't honestly swear he won't. There is so much at stake with what they are doing. Implications of not only Uryuu's career but of possible imprisonment and other far-reaching consequences because of who Ichigo is and what he has done. Uryuu knows he will not resent this memory, no matter what. But he can't promise he'll never wish they could've done things a little differently.

Ichigo sees it instantly. A soft smile spreads across his face and he shakes his head twice.

"Ichigo, I—"

"Never mind. It doesn't matter."

He wants to argue; it very much does matter and dismissal isn't the best way to deal with this. Uryuu begins to say as much but Ichigo starts moving again. His lips close on a circle of Uryuu's throat and suck. At the same time, he sneaks a hand between them and closes a large fist around them both in a tight grip. The rebuttal becomes a startled moan and Uryuu bites his lip to keep from crying out when Ichigo's teeth graze the freshly-bruised flesh.

Expertly, Ichigo builds them up and keeps them on a jittery brink for longer than Uryuu would prefer. His body aches with it, straining up into that hold, the friction of Ichigo's sweat-slick skin. He gets vocal with his wishes; wordless complaints and insistent tugs to short hair. Still Ichigo delays. And Uryuu understands why: he doesn't want it to end. If it wouldn't drive them both totally insane, he'd almost rather they postpone it all night. So they could stay like this, close and warm and so full of passion. No thoughts spared for worry about the future. Nothing distracting them from what they are feeling for each other in this moment.

But of course it has to end.

"Uryuu," he murmurs over and over between kisses, a frantic litany punctuated with Uryuu's answering moans. "So beautiful. Like this, you're so fucking gorgeous."

He says it like it hurts. Like Ichigo is being reduced to ash simply by beholding him. The waver of his low voice makes Uryuu's chest constrict even as his lungs demand that it expand. Uryuu can't take anymore. He begs, one word and Ichigo groans like he just delivered the killing blow. His hips' speed doubles and his fingers squeeze. Uryuu pulls him into a final kiss and they come with stilted gasps into each other's mouths. Liquid fire rips down his spine and radiates outward. He feels Ichigo shaking above him, muttering disjointed nonsense and invoking deities.

After the high fades, their eyes find each other. Ichigo gazes at him with such naked veneration that Uryuu's throat closes. He kisses Ichigo, guiding him down to lie beside him without irritating his wounds. They stay close even after their breathing slows and the sweat dries. Uryuu can't even be bothered to care about the sticky mess between them. All that matters is the weight of that stare on his face. The seal of their lips again and again. The warmth of Ichigo in his arms.

And he is not letting go.


As soon as Uryuu is deeply asleep again, Ichigo runs.

It is a very long walk back to his dingy apartment on the other side of town but he is grateful for the time to reflect. He mentally drafts the letter he will write to Uryuu and mail in the morning before he leaves town. Even though every corner of his soul is screaming for him to turn right back around and crawl into Uryuu's bed, enfold the man in his arms forever. Yet, Ichigo knows he will cause more pain if he stays than if he takes his poison influence out of Uryuu's life before he ends up tearing it apart.

Going to Uryuu tonight was a mistake. His father, well-versed in Ichigo's violent mishaps, could've tended him just as well. Instead, he made Uryuu an accessory to what is likely double-homicide in addition to taking advantage of his affection for Ichigo and seeking comfort he does not deserve. He presses against the knot in his chest as he thinks of the way Uryuu kissed him so tenderly, so reverently. Ichigo has never known that kind of love before, raw and almost painful in its purity. For that feeling, he is unspeakably grateful and humbled.

That is why he must go. If being with Uryuu will endanger the man in any way, he cannot allow himself to do it. Ichigo refuses to be the reason Uryuu loses the privilege to do something he cherishes so much. Refuses to drag him into Ichigo's fucked-up sideways world where friends get abused and lovers wind up in tears. Uryuu's misery would break Ichigo faster than any fist, law, or judgment ever would.

Inside his apartment at last, Ichigo packs a bag in ten minutes before he sits down to write a surprisingly short letter.


"What do you mean you're leaving?"

"Just for a little while, I promise."

Yuzu looks up at him with watery eyes and sees right past the half-truth.

"Why?"

"I need a change of scenery, a fresh start." That's true enough, actually. "I'll visit you often; you won't even notice I'm gone."

"Ichi-nii," she sobs, attaching to him like a polyp.

"I'm sorry, Yuzu."

His farewell with Karin went similarly. Only his crazy dad managed not to cry, though it was a close thing. This isn't the first time Ichigo has had to leave town for a while. His family is as used to it as anyone could be in this situation. Doesn't change the fact that he feels like an asshole.

"It's okay," she sniffles into his shirt. "I know you wouldn't go if you didn't have to. I'll miss you, Ichigo!"

"Yeah. Me too."

Emotion overtakes him for the fiftieth time today and it is all he can do not to join her in tears. With a final hug, he gently disengages, waves goodbye to her young husband, and walks out the door. He makes it to his car before the smothering sorrow drags pathetic sobs from him. Ichigo leans his head against the steering wheel and breathes past it. Only once he has it under control does he start his engine and drive away.

His phone's GPS app guides him out of the city. Across bridges, over hills, through tunnels, and into another town. But he doesn't stop there. Ichigo keeps driving. He doesn't have a particular destination in mind but he wants to be far enough away that he will not be easily found. He drives until his stomach growls in spite of its roiling state.

Pulling over at a gas station, Ichigo takes out his phone as he fuels up. He has four missed calls and two voice messages from Uryuu. Ichigo clenches his jaw as he struggles with the urge to hear the man's voice one last time. Instead, he throws his phone against the concrete hard enough to shatter it into a dozen pieces.

It's the best farewell that he is going to get for the only person he ever fell in love with.


AN: That's it for now, but there will be a few more chapters to this story, plus a 'pick-your-own epilogue'. I'm writing both a happy end and an intriguing yet sad end because I couldn't decide which way I wanted to go.

Happy Holidays and I'll see you next week! ;D