-I know you're probably all wondering where the hell I disappeared to over these past few weeks. I know; going from updating daily to not updating for weeks is a bit of a jump. But the fact of the matter was that I was working, and at home for the holidays, so all incentive to work was flushed down the toilet in favor of humoring my love for telling stories and consuming copious amounts of eggnog. What can I say? I'm a sucker for festivities. Anyway, I'm back, and still taking on prompts. This set is from Corisanna. Sorry they took so long dear; I hope they make up for the absence. Hope you all had a good holiday season, and I look forward to hearing from you all in the New Year!
1: Hips
Toshiro had this intoxicating little habit that Ichigo both loved and hated sometimes. Most of the time, he loved it because it was done specifically for the humor of his audience. But there were other times that he hated it, because sometimes he wasn't the only audience present to observe it, and it made him insatiably jealous.
But regardless of circumstance, it was just the slightest, tantalizing tilt to his hips when he walked that drove Ichigo to absolute depravity. He knew most women who did something similar, but in a more naturally dramatic fashion.
However, it was driven home time and again how much better Toshiro was at it, because it only took one step to have Ichigo totally transfixed and well on the road to being completely undone.
2: Soccer
"Go on, Toshiro," Ichigo encouraged, nudging the young Captain towards the door with his elbow. The young man was just pulling a shirt over his head, so he had to wrestle for a minute before he could glare at Ichigo properly. The younger man did so, but calmly as he brushed out the minor wrinkles in the collared shirt as it settled properly over his narrow shoulders.
"For the last time, no, Kurosaki," he stated simply, flicking the hairs on the back of his neck up over the folded collar of the shirt.
"Why not?" the taller man persisted, following the other out as he was slinging on his own jacket. "She just wants you to show her a few moves. She swears that you've played soccer before. You don't even have to teach the whole team, just her, just for a few minutes."
For probably about the hundredth time since he'd arrived, Toshiro rolled his eyes. "I've never played soccer; I don't know the sportsmanship of it, don't know the theory behind good method; I'd be no use to her. I can play because I can move the ball across the field and kick it into the goal. Any science that it may have beyond that is far beyond me."
"Beyond you?" Ichigo raised his brows, a sly grin on his face. "Beyond the prodigious genius of the 10th Squad? I didn't think such a thing was possible! Surely if you can't do it, no one can. If only-"
Ichigo's next words were forced off his tongue in a rush of breath, as Toshiro had ducked back to dig a very pointy little elbow under the other man's rib cage; successfully brutalizing his solar plexus and leaving him breathless and sore. In fact, Ichigo didn't become truly aware of what had happened until he hear Karin laughing at him as she stood next to Toshiro looking down at him with a smirk on her face.
"I told you he wouldn't go for it, Ichigo."
3: Kon
"Holy hell, Toshiro," Ichigo swore, rubbing his chin as he glanced over at the Captain sitting calmly on his windowsill. "What did you do to me?"
"That damnable animal you keep in your body whenever you're away tried to pull something on me. I wasn't about to let it. Especially not when it was doing probably the worst impression of you I've ever seen." The young Captain seemed wholly unperturbed as he flipped a creamy page of the thick volume of Shakespeare he was reading.
Flicking a seething glare at the small stuffed animal that was attempting to crawl back into his closet, Ichigo snatched the thing by its brown felt mane, yanking it back out before it could get away. "Just what the hell were you trying to do?" he barked, more than displeased at the thought of Kon having tried to do anything to Toshiro while in his body.
"You're the only one that gets any anymore, you selfish bastard! I'm dying in here!" the little animal squealed back, causing both he and Toshiro to burst into unceremonious laughter.
4: Recipe
Ichigo knew for a long time that Toshiro always got a veiled pleasure out of hanging out with Ichigo and his rowdy friends. In spite of his usually introverted personality, and his usual denial, there was just a twinkling gleam he got in his eyes whenever their vagabond group of weirdoes got together to do something strange or stupid. Which was most of the time, considering alcohol was almost always involved.
However, Ichigo only realized that Toshiro purposefully made sure that alcohol was always involved whenever Renji tagged along, because no matter what the occasion, the redhead would always end up getting stone faced drunk. And, once again, regardless of occasion, would end up singing the worst karaoke possible whilst in the throes of his liquor induced stupor. But Ichigo also realized that, even while Renji would be hollering his lungs out, Toshiro wouldn't be looking at the rowdy red head.
Rather, he'd be keeping furtive glances locked on Ichigo; taking in every smile or laugh he let out in response to Renji's antics like they were water to a man in the desert.
5: Yukata
Toshiro, whenever he arrived home late from the Division 10 Offices, would often find that Ichigo had stayed up to wait for him. The other man would usually be in his sleeping yukata by that time, a nightly blue piece that Toshiro had given him for some occasion too many seasons ago to really recall. He would just be sitting out on their back deck, stretched out over an obscene amount of space, either writing notes to himself for ideas or reading some thick volume he'd probably kyped from Toshiro's office.
But every time, rather than going immediately back to join him, Toshiro would don his own sleeping yukata, a light, dusky blue number that Ichigo had given him along the same occasion by which Toshiro had justified giving Ichigo his, and then proceed to go back and join his husband, if only for the sake of enjoying the night air and discussing with him whatever he had been reading or writing.
6: Princess
"Toshiro, do you really thing now is the best time for this?"
"Yes," his snowy companion griped from above him, having already easily succeeded in maneuvering (tripping/tackling) him to the floor of the clinic examination room he'd agreed to talk in. From which position on the floor Toshiro had proceeded to sit on his stomach, his irked, yet pouting, and somehow worried expression barely registering on Ichigo's muddled senses. "Something's had you in a funk for weeks, and if someone didn't pin you down and drag it out of you now, it'd only end up exploding within a matter of weeks. Now spill it, or I'll make you."
Ichigo sighed shallowly; physically unable to do so any deeper due to the short captain sitting on his diaphragm. "I know if I tell you it's nothing, you're the only person brave enough to actually sock me one for it." Toshiro just growled in response, letting Ichigo know that he wasn't about to let the topic shift back to him when the ginger obviously had some serious explaining to do.
"Orihime stopped by the other day," he said, letting his head lay back against the floor and roll to one side for the sake of not having to look at the snowy Captain on top of him. "She asked me to see her."
He saw Toshiro's snowy brows kick up out of the corner of his eyes. "I don't see anything wrong with seeing her while she's in town."
Ichigo sighed again, scrubbing a hand over his face. "No, Toshiro, I mean, see her. She asked me if I'd be willing to date her."
The momentary silence panicked the Substitute, before he felt one of Toshiro's cool hands grab his hair and force them to look at one another. Surprisingly, his expression was gentle, and understanding.
"Ichigo, I'm not here to reprimand you for your thoughts." Ichigo blinked slowly, amazed that he still had a head.
"I'm not here to keep you from your opportunities, or from a life you deserve to live. If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that I can't prevent people from doing anything they decide they want to do. I can't keep Matsumoto from drinking, I can't keep Captain Soi Fon from being obsessed with Yoruichi, and I can't keep Kurotsuchi from being a creepy bastard. So I'm not going to tell you that you can't or shouldn't do something if you've decided to do it."
Ichigo was still left gaping, his mouth open. "The point is, Ichigo, I'm not a fair-weather anything. Friend, compatriot, warrior; whatever I am to you. I don't care if you're straight, bi-curious, homosexual, or Martian. Taken, or available, I'll be here dragging answers out of your skin whenever you get depressed regardless of whether or not you answer Ms. Inoue with a "yes" or a "no". Do I make myself clear?"
There was no hesitation in the young Captain's words, and Ichigo was stunned for a moment that, beyond that fact, there was no bitterness, no betrayal, no hurt behind those words at all. They were honest; a genuine guarantee of something that Ichigo couldn't have paid the world's weight in gold to buy.
"Toshiro," Ichigo started, pushing himself into a sitting position, forcing Toshiro to shimmy back until the other was sitting in his lap as he crossed his legs into an Indian style on the floor, "I wasn't keeping this from you because I was considering it. I was keeping it from you because I was afraid of how you would react."
Toshiro rolled his eyes, glancing up at Ichigo with an amused expression. "Have I disarmed your fears, then?"
"Y-yeah," he said. "It's just… you're my world, Toshiro. This life or the next, or ten lifetimes from now. You're my princess, and I wouldn't even look at anyone else the same way I look at you."
Toshiro smiled gently. "I know," he said. "That's why I wasn't worried to begin with."
7: Nibble
"Come on, Toshiro," Ichigo said, trying in vain to rouse his slumbering husband. He'd poked, prodded, shoved, annoyed, and cajoled as best he could, but nothing of substance seemed to have been wrought from his efforts. He'd thought at first the Toshiro was just bluffing, and that he was just pretending (quite well) to be still asleep. But throughout his endeavors, he'd been almost convinced into thinking otherwise.
But one last effort came to him in that last second before defeat, and he leaned down, nipping oh so gently the light, sensitive skin just beneath Toshiro's jaw. Within a few seconds the man below him responded, and Ichigo smirked in triumph against Toshiro's neck.
"Okay, 'Shiro, the jig is up, you're blushing; I know you're awake."
8: Possessive
If there was ever one thing that Ichigo was never allowed to have access to throughout their years together, it was Toshiro's ideas. Not in the sense that he had any evil thoughts that he just had to keep hidden from Ichigo, but there were some things that he was protective of when it came to his own genius. But once, after having greatly worried his spouse by burning an entire notebook of his ideas, Toshiro explained that it wasn't because he was possessive of them.
Rather, it was because he was paranoid of harming anyone should they be anywhere but his head that he kept them to himself. His defining person to protect from his own thoughts of course being his spouse, he'd also explained.
9: Formal
Ichigo wrapped his arms up over Toshiro's shoulders, snaking them around his neck and bringing them into a very close embrace. Toshiro sighed against his admittedly taller shoulder, letting his hands settle on Ichigo's torso.
"Thank you, Toshiro," he whispered, an uncontainable smile curling at his lips oh so gently. His heart was alight with warmth, but there was a peace that had settled about his mind that tempered that heat down to a lingering, licking, tickling delight.
"For what, Ichigo?"
Ichigo merely tightened his grip. "For letting me be one of the few people you've chosen to not be formal with." The smaller man said nothing, instead just resting his cheek on Ichigo's collarbones and letting out what Ichigo would have sworn to God was a contented sigh.
10: Birthday
Toshiro was drowning in the loose sweatshirt that Ichigo had allowed him to borrow, his knees tucked up to his chest and his arms lazily draped over them as they watched the waning July day fade behind the glowing horizon. The lightweight shorts he wore drifted up around his narrow thighs, the summer wind sneaking through the open window rustling them gently as he sat. Ichigo sat next to him on the bed, sprawled out save for his torso, which was only halfway supported up by his elbows.
Ichigo didn't notice that Toshiro had kissed his cheek until he saw the other's face retreating away. He didn't go all that far; just back to where he had been sitting before, but Ichigo grabbed his hand anyway. He sat up all the way, following after the smaller man as their eyes, dyed flaming gradients of wild pigment by the dying sun, met.
"What was that for?" he asked, tilting his head. Toshiro didn't seem upset about anything, just calm as that sweet little smile curled his lips.
"Happy Birthday," he said, and Ichigo started; realizing what exactly it was he'd been forgetting all day. But then he smiled too, leaning in until their noses brushed, unable to help the goosebumps dancing up his neck.
"Mind if I ask for an encore?" he asked, gingerly gauging Toshiro's veiled expression.
"Considering how old you are," Toshiro said, a playful little gleam dancing across his discolored eyes, "I'd say could get away with several hundred."
11: 2 AM
Ichigo didn't have the guts to tell him. He didn't have the guts to do a lot of things that he would have liked to, but he found he couldn't bring himself to, not knowing what the outcome or response would be like.
Nor did he realize just how sanctioned his relationship was until he got a call from Chad of all people, at two o clock in the morning as he stood up pacing over his own indecision.
"He's just like you," was all he'd said at first, thus all but forcing Ichigo to ask what he meant. "You both fight to protect; and regardless of the outcome, you always fight to win."
Ichigo had still been confused, up until Chad's parting words.
"Go get him, Ichigo."
12: Incense
Anger was something that Ichigo often found got away with him. He could rarely keep track of things that had angered him, or trace where they had originated from. Most things "just pissed him off", and that was all there was to it. Why they pissed him off, or what experiences drove him to hate things rarely mattered. But in some very specific instances, that haze of "just pissed off" burned away with a ferocious clarity, and he would be left painfully aware of what exactly incensed him so badly.
And he had to admit, having a young, wounded, obstinate Captain flat-faced refuse his help did piss him off quite a bit. But it wasn't because he thought the child was being stupid, or because he was being a brat. No, Ichigo may have said that, but that was probably about as far from the truth as he could have strayed. No, he knew what made him angry about watching the younger man bleed, what made him angry about having to watch his small back turn away from him and carry the crushing weight of the world.
It pissed him off because it was like watching himself; like looking in the mirror of days of years in the past. He hated having to watch Toshiro Hitsugaya walk down the same exact path that he had, he hated not being able to get through to the younger man. But more than anything, he was enraged by the fact that his biggest hurdle was the fact that the younger man simply refused to let him in. And that, in the end, unless Ichigo could find a way in, Toshiro's own obstinacy and misguided sense of protectiveness and self preservation would lead to his early death at the hands of someone not worthy of having defeated him.
13: Godmother
Ichigo sat for a long time just staring at the little bundle in his arms. The little girl lay swathed in the fluffiest damn blanket he'd ever seen, one of her miraculously tiny hands holding onto the finger he kept brushing her face with. She was sleeping, quite peacefully after making such a loud entrance into their world. He smiled down at her, glancing over to where Toshiro was also unsurprisingly sleeping. Or, rather, was more than unsurprisingly passed out on the hospital bed in the 4th Division where he lay. There were dark rings under his closed eyes, and he was breathing deeply in the sheets of exhausted sleep. But there was a warm glow about him, and Ichigo knew he was resting peacefully knowing the night's monumental accomplishment had been completed successfully.
"You've both done very well," a soft voice intoned over his shoulder, and Ichigo glanced back at the Captain of the 4th Division herself, who was smiling down at all of them with what was probably the most genuinely happy expression Ichigo had ever seen on her face. He smiled back just as openly, more than willing to express his undying gratitude towards her and all that she'd done for them over the course of Toshiro's pregnancy.
"Thank you, Captain Unohana," he said, turning to face her a bit more, still genially cradling his daughter in his arms. "I can't imagine doing any of this without you. Both Toshiro and I owe you a huge debt of gratitude."
Something in her gentle smile changed, taking on an almost ominous humor. "There's really no need for such praises," she insisted, but the tilt in her voice alluded only gingerly to Ichigo that she did have something else in mind as she spoke. "But there is something you could do that I would greatly appreciate."
Quite inexplicably, there was a knot in Ichigo's throat, and he swallowed hard, suddenly feeling more afraid than he had in decades. And yet, for the life of him, he couldn't pin down exactly what Unohana had said that had scared him so apparently shitless. "And what's that, Captain Unohana?" he asked meekly, fearful of showing her any disrespect while she appeared to be in such a state.
"I would be greatly honored if I were to be named as the godmother of the child," she said, her kindly eyes not missing a grain of their warmth, and yet chilling him to the bone with an icily veiled threat that may not have been a threat but might as well have been a threat because he would be damned if he didn't feel like she would stab him if he said no.
"O-of course," he said, feigning a smile as he felt the blood rush in fear out of his face. "No problem."
"Very good, Mr. Kurosaki, thank you for the honors," the woman continued, before bowing out of the room to leave Ichigo to surely clean up the remains of his guts that had probably spilled out over the floor. Had it been anyone else, the exchange would probably have been much less frightening. But as it stood, he was glad to still have arms with which to hold his new baby. He looked down at her, as she slept soundly on in his arms. He chuckled almost humorlessly to himself, stroking her little hand.
"God, I hope you're as scary as she is when you grow up," he whispered to her, kissing her forehead. "That way you'll scare off any boys that I might have to give you to.
-I know most of you are probably going, "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?" and all that good stuff, but the fact is that I was on winter break, and strangely enough, when I have time to write, I have no motivation to. I need to be working, be productive to have the mojo to write. Now it's back, thankfully, now that I'm in school again. So I will be updating more often now that I've gotten that horrible three weeks of unproductive vacation out of my system. I hope that I haven't left all of you hopeless; I promise I would never leave these unfinished. Again, thanks to Corisanna for donating these, and if you have any ideas or requests, feel free to shoot them my way. Peace out, biffles~
8-90s love,
crypto