Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or anything affiliated with it. I only own my writing and the poem "Natural Disaster."

Warning: Things get…steamy. If you're still interested, read on and please don't be offended. Or burst out laughing. (hides face)

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Natural Disaster

Rukia clambered through Ichigo's bedroom window, a plastic bag swinging at her elbow. She had purchased a couple soft drinks for them both to consume while she helped him study for finals a few weeks away. (She promised to quiz him, but didn't plan on studying herself—who in Seireitei was going to care what she got on mortal children's tests?)

Now, she was a bit put out, as it appeared her shinigami partner was nowhere to be seen. Ichigo had said he would start making flash cards if she would please go down to the convenience store and buy sugary, caffeine-loaded soda pops to keep them awake.

"We had six frickin' Hollows interrupt us yesterday! We're pulling an all-nighter, Rukia, and we're not gonna stop!"

"That's what she said," she shot back slyly.

"Rukia—"

"Admit it. That was the perfect opening."

Rukia had grumbled at his sudden manic need to study, but what the heck, tomorrow was Sunday, they could sleep in. Besides, it was something to do, though she'd much rather lie in her closet and look over the poems of Ichigo's she'd managed to copy.

And this is, what, the six thousandth time you've pored over them?

She pushed the uncomfortable thought out of her head. True, she'd pored over them quite a bit lately…but they were nice poems! Could she be faulted with being a lover of the fine arts?

…Yeah, that sounds like bull even to me.

Rukia sighed, then came back to her observation that Ichigo was no where to be found. The room lights and desk lamp were off, leaving only the full moon's beams to provide dim illumination. There weren't even index cards or pens out to show he'd been doing what he said he would.

Wait, she thought before she could get absolutely cross, did his deputy badge go off? Oh hell, now I don't have a clue where he is—no, if a Hollow was near, I'd have received an alert myself…

And Ichigo wouldn't have bothered to put his study things away, nor turn off his lights. Conservation of energy didn't rank high on his list when a Hollow was on a rampage somewhere in Karakura. He couldn't be talking with his family, since they'd long since gone to bed. Maybe he'd done something as mundane as go downstairs for snacks…

She set the drinks on the desk—and saw the manila folder miraculously left on top. A smile spread on her face and she reached for it, but paused.

"He put away his schoolbooks, but not the poetry folder he's been hiding from me?" she murmured. She shrugged. "Oh well…" So protective of his poetry, but now so careless about where he leaves it…how strange…

Rukia flipped it open, preparing to rummage through it to see if any new poems had been written since she had first discovered it a few days previously. Conveniently, a dark red letter was right on top. She squinted, but the black ink and scarlet paper didn't make for easy reading. She padded over to Ichigo's bed and knelt atop it, holding the paper up to the window. Unlike the other papers, there were no messy revisions on it—just a clean final draft in flowing ink.

By the second verse, her heart was lodged in her throat.

"O-Oh…"

It wasn't…explicit. No one could call it explicit, but it was…suggestive. Slightly provocative. Vaguely arousing. More than vaguely, really—it was quite arousing, it was—it was—damn—

She was done reading, but just once wasn't enough, she was still in shock by what she read. Rukia looked over the words again. She felt her face heating up. One of her hands reached up and gripped her neck, because she could have sworn she felt kisses pressed on them, just like the poem said. She could have sworn she felt a breeze on the bare skin of her shoulders, just like the poem said, though she wore a sleeved blouse.

This time, Rukia couldn't even begin to try lying to herself in her head.

She was completely shaken.

"I…" she whispered. "I…would give anything to be the girl he wrote this for."

"You are."

And there he was. Leaning in his open doorway with only his eyes catching the meager light and shining out from the dark.

"How long have you been there?" she asked softly.

"Since you started reading."

Rukia pressed the letter to her chest, as though it could shield her from embarrassment. "I guess this is what I get for being nosy."

"Yeah." Without cutting his locked gaze from hers, he shut the door behind him. "But if you wouldn't object…I'd like to give you more."

Sshmp.

The door bolt slid into place.

"What do you mean?" Good, her voice didn't stammer. "I'm sorry for peeping at your private writing; it was wrong of me. If I can make it up to—"

"Why should you apologize," Ichigo murmured, standing before the bedside, right in front of her, "for reading a letter intended for you?"

"…Me?"

"You're my muse, Rukia." His hands slowly lifted, hesitant, shy, unused to being anywhere near a woman's skin, until they finally cupped her face, threading through the dark hair at her temples. " 'Be thou the tenth Muse," he breathed, "ten times more in worth than those old nine which rhymers invocate…' "

The tenth muse covered his left hand with her own small hands, leaving the letter to float to the side and realizing that those poems, those love poems, were for her. By admitting she was his inspiration, Ichigo had just laid his soul on the guillotine, with no idea if she would slice him or save him. She nuzzled his palm, quietly laughing.

"This can't be happening, you know. It's absurd! Nothing this good happens to me. Nothing this good can ever happen to me."

A flash of panic raced through him. "Don't run now, Rukia—"

"Rukongai brats don't fall, Ichigo. Kuchiki don't fall. Shinigami don't fall—"

"In what, Rukia, they don't fall in what?"

He crouched and his face was inches before hers, and her vision was filled with his eyes. They blazed as they only did in battle, but by God, he considered this one of the most important battles he'd ever face.

"They don't fall in love."

His arms slid around her waist and he straightened his back, hoisting her up so she was pressed against his chest and her legs were half bent, feet still pressed against the mattress.

"That's bull." Her eyes were wary as they stared up at him. If he didn't keep his arms around her, she'd bolt. "That's bull and you know it." He kissed her forehead. "'Cause they do." Her cheek. "They all do."

"I can't run, can I?"

"I'd come after you." Her other cheek.

"…I want you."

The kisses halted.

"I need you." She slid out of his embrace and stepped onto the floor. "And I…I deserve you. No matter what I've done in my life…you make me feel I'm worthy of you."

Her blue gaze—those amazing midnight eyes—rose to meet his.

"I love you."

She looks at me and then it starts

The drums resounding in my heart

And I begin to play my part

In this natural disaster

She said it.

Ichigo felt his ears ringing, heard the blood ramming through them.

She said it.

One look and three words and his chest felt about to burst.

Rukia took a small step toward him. Her arms opened, her hands shyly reached, wanting him.

"Ichigo…?"

He caught her about the waist and lifted her again, loving how her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, her stomach rubbing against his chest. One hand slid up her spine, trying to press her even closer as her arms wove around his neck. Midnight hair tickled his face as she dipped her head and caught his mouth with chaste, heated, fumbling, close-mouthed kisses.

We're going really fast.

Ichigo pulled his mouth from hers with a groan. He toppled them onto his bed, slipping out of Rukia's limbs, knees hitting the floor. She rose and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for him again. He dove at her throat, kissing along its porcelain length. After a moment's hesitation, he licked the junction between neck and shoulder and was rewarded with a low moan and her head falling back.

She takes a step, I make a move

A wildfire touch not meant to soothe

Lips at her neck meant to prove

I'm a natural disaster

"Rukia…we gotta slow down…"

Hands slid across his chest, stealing his breath. Her dazed expression turned into a fixed stare. Impatient didn't come close to describing it.

"I've waited more than a century for you, Kurosaki," she growled softly. "Don't ask me to be patient!"

He kissed her again. Finally, their tongues sneaked out, stroking softly. He caught the front of her indigo blouse and fiddled with the buttons.

"This is my first time doing anything like this, Kuchiki," he rumbled back in a new rough, low timber. God, she could feel his voice vibrating through her. "Don't ask me to mess this up!"

The buttons (the idiotically tiny buttons) might as well have been a chastity belt, refusing to part. Perhaps it was because his fingers were trembling so badly.

When it took forever to undo two of seven buttons, his temper broke.

"Screw it!" Buttons snapped off the blouse, clicking softly as they hit the floor. A ripping sound was heard, and Ichigo dimly registered that he probably tore the thin cloth of the shirt itself.

"You better sew"—she laughed against his mouth—"those back on"—her lips trailed down his throat, nipped his collarbone—"for me later."

He helped her shrug off her top, his fingers rejoicing at the feel of her soft arms. "Whatever you say, love." You know a man's gone off the deep end, he thought, when his girl's bare shoulders are enough to drive him wild.

But she still wasn't as unclothed as he'd like her to be. A modest black camisole still covered her. Chuckling, he nudged down the straps of her bra and camisole, pleased he heard her breath catch. Slowly he began to raise the hem, his hand sliding up her stomach. But what to do with the other hand? The devil in him decided to tease her further—his fingers danced from her knee up her thigh, slipping under her skirt.

Rukia slapped her hand on his skirt-roaming hand, fear telling her to push it off, but desire overrode it and urged her to guide his warm fingers higher. Her other hand dug into his hair, as though Ichigo would actually pull away from where he was planting open-mouthed kisses atop her left breast.

Buttons slip, a fumbling tear,

I much prefer her shoulders bare

A nip, a gasp, hands grip my hair

I'm her natural disaster

His goal was reached: one hand brushing across her bottom, the other cupped a small, warm breast through her brassiere. A bolt of fear cut through his feverish desire for his petite partner.

"Don't mean to kill the moment—" Ichigo huffed, trying to catch his breath.

"Then don't." Her lips easily stole his air again.

He broke away; he needed to get this out now. "—but I don't know what the hell I'm doing," he rasped. "So don't expect stars. I wanna make you see stars, but I donno if I can, I'm going completely on instinct here."

Rukia dropped her head back and let out a deep chuckle. "Ichigo, when we met I gave you my power and basically turned you loose on Hollows, fighting them came so naturally to you. With minimal knowledge, you busted into Soul Society for me! You've been running on instinct for a long time—" She smiled and dragged the cami off completely. "—and it's served you well.

"When it comes to this, we're on equal ground. I've only dreamed of going this far with a man. We'll have to teach each other."

Ichigo eased her back onto the mattress, shifting his palm on her breast so it was pressed directly over her heart.

"Just be patient, okay?" he whispered. " 'Cause I won't stop 'til I get it right. I won't stop until there's not a doubt in your mind how much you mean to me…"

She smiled tenderly, wondrously up at him, sending his heart into overdrive. Her eyes were nearly black; all the beautiful blue had receded in face of the excitement humming through her. Her finger hooked his collar and tugged him down, a sliver away from her mouth.

"Show me, hotshot."

His grin turned feral. How could he resist such a challenge?

Her eyes turn dark and reel me in

Desire burns beneath her skin

To win her heart I'll gladly sin

She's a natural disaster

Soft gulping gasps and snapping sounds littered the silence as Rukia exacted revenge on Ichigo's button up shirt. Two pairs of hands wound up fighting, each trying to unhook her bra first. Her white skirt slithered off the bed, his pants were kicked off.

And each was bare as day before the other. Rukia slowly ran her hands down his muscled chest and taut stomach, and was enchanted when her gesture caused Ichigo to shudder. She drew away before she touched his most private place, shivering in desire and shyness.

Her curves entrance, her body quakes

But wants to move as lovers make

One touch from her, I start to shake

She's my natural disaster

"Second thoughts?" Any restraint or gentleness he still retained was about to vanish; the impassioned shriek she swallowed didn't help. But with her breast in his mouth, she couldn't be faulted.

"You just want an excuse to chicken out," she dared breathlessly.

It became almost a game. She touched him here, hoping he'd like her attentions (he always did). He touched her there, hoping for pleased sounds from her throat (they always came). Lips, tongues, fingers, the brush of hair, a nudge of hips, skin on skin, warm breaths mixing…

It was as though the room had flown up and up, gaining altitude, because oxygen became harder to find and their thoughts turned dizzy. Foreplay had officially flown out the window; something desperate now ruled.

When he was finally within, Rukia's heart stopped. Ichigo stared at her, fighting the urge to move.

"Are—are you…okay?"

Oh God, her eyes, her eyes, my everything, looking at me like I'm her everything—

She rolled her hips, nearly undoing him.

"I'm amazing," she breathed.

"Damn straight you are."

He surged forward, kissing her to swallow her heated moan.

"Hang on. This'll be a wild ride."

We can't turn back, we burn too bright

Our fires join, our souls alight

This can't be wrong, it feels so right

We're a natural disaster

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Sheherazade's Blah Blah Blah

Hullo! Thank you for reading the second half of this two-shot, begun in The Tenth Muse. Please please pretty please with sugar, cherries, and gratitude on top review!! Long or short, reviews brighten my day! I'm always anxious to hear your opinions, especially so for this fic.

This is my first…lemon? Would this be considered a lemon? You tell me! I don't think I was awfully explicit. I tried to be vague at some points, mostly because this is my first time writing something like this, and because I didn't want to bump this up to an M rating. People would think I'm some hardcore stuff writer then, when I'm too much of a chicken to try and be one! I've mainly been composing humorous stuff (i.e. The Juunishi Host Club).

I originally intended for it to be a steamy makeout scene and end it there…Yeah, that flew out the window in a hurry. I don't think this first foray flopped (completely) but that's what your reviews are for.

Thank you CharmedNightSky, midnightwaters, Oliviax3, and LithiumRukia for reviewing this collection so far!