Gin and Aizen exchanged a long glance, then stared at the sleeping Izuru in Gin's arms. They stood on Izuru's porch, the dim porch light casting strange shadows.

"The door's locked, isn't it." Aizen pointed out. He folded his arms.

Gin sighed. "Yeah."

Aizen smacked his lips. "Great. Do we just leave him on the doorstep or something? Like in that movie, Harry Porter... or something."

Gin blinked.

"Yeah, I thought not." Aizen stared at the doorknob. "Doesn't he have his keys with him?"

"Naw, he left them inside when I came to pick 'im up."

Aizen smacked his palm to his forehead. "Should we just take him home with us?"

"That's gonna be awkward in the mornin'."

"Agreed."

Silence.

"I'll just take 'im home," Gin said finally. He turned around and headed back to Aizen's car.

Aizen shrugged. "Okay."

Izuru awoke, and blinked at the ceiling.

Gin's house?

He rubbed his eyes, blinking again. A warm body stirred beside him on the narrow futon. OH DEAR GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE- he thought, his stomach free falling. Gin propped himself up on his elbows with a cheerful sneer.

"Mornin' to ya," he said with a chipper voice.

"What am I doing here?" Izuru asked, covering his eyes with his forearm.

"Spendin' the night,"

"Why?"

"Because your house was locked when we went to drop ya off, an' your keys were inside."

Izuru blushed. "Gin, did we... do anything last night?"

"Depends on what ya define as doing." Izuru's mind flashed dirty thoughts, and he chewed his lip uneasily. He lifted his arm for a moment to glance at what he was wearing. It was not a navy blue yukata. It was the flannel pajama bottoms he'd worn before.

"How did I change?"

Gin didn't answer, and flopped onto his back. Izuru's stomach began a gymnastics routine. Shit, he thought.

Gin rolled back onto his side, and rested his cheek on Izuru's bare belly, his finger tracing a line back and forth on Izuru's side. Izuru twitched from Gin's tickling touch. "Please don't be mad at me." Gin's breath ghosted across Izuru's skin. "I promise I didn't try anythin' with ya last night 'tween the sheets."

Izuru wasn't very reassured. "Promise?"

"Promise," Gin echoed.

Izuru sighed.

"How're ya feelin'?" Gin asked. His finger traced loops. "Y'were pretty embarrassed last night." Last night...? Then it crashed over Izuru in a wave of memory that four cups of beer had made blurry. They'd- Izuru didn't want to think yet another something like that. "O'course, nothing ya did or said last night was valid, so I guess it don't matter."

"We- Oh, shit, that actually happened?" Izuru turned rouge.

"Yup! Would ya like a refresher?"

"Would you stop shamelessly promoting yourself?"

"Nope," Gin said with a keen smile. Izuru's gut knotted. "So tell me, how did ya like it?"

Izuru gulped. "I don't have any strong opinions on it."

"Would ya do it again?"

Izuru chose not to answer, and let his arm fall off his burning face, which he turned away from Gin. He'd do it again. He really would. He just didn't want to admit to it. Especially not to Gin
"Whatcha lookin' at?" Gin moved so he could see Izuru's face through his squinted eyes. "Aww, you're blushing! So would ya do it again? Hmm?" A beat of silence. "Ya would, wouldn't ya!" Gin giggled.

"Shut up," Izuru groused.

Gin did some creative scrambling, swinging his leg over Izuru's midsection, so he was straddling his narrow hips quite awkwardly. A bead of sweat rolled down Izuru's cheek. "Well?" Gin said, leaning very close to Izuru's face and splaying his long ivory fingers on Izuru's nude chest. "How 'bout it?"

"How about what?" Izuru squeaked, quivering.

"Me 'n you."

"Together?" His throat ran dry, and his blood cold, all the heat rushing to his already heated face. He gulped again.

Gin drummed his fingers. "Why not?"

Izuru turned his face back to look straight at Gin's jesting smile. He took the opportunity, grabbing Gin by the wrist and rolling, so that it was Izuru who was sitting on top of Gin. Gin grinned wider at Izuru's sudden audacity. Izuru pinned Gin's wrists to the floor. "Look, Gin." He said, his hair falling in his face. "I'm not entirely comfortable with this whole notion of being with another male quite yet, so, um-" Blush. "-Do you think we could take it slowly?"

Gin twisted his wrists. "Is that a yes?"

Izuru stared at Gin's chest. "For the most part."

Gin simpered. "Do I get a kiss now?" Izuru freed a hand to slap Gin swiftly on the cheek. "I'll take that as a no." Gin's twiggy wrist was pinned down again.

"Gin, Kira-kun, are you ready for breakfast yet?" Aizen called, strolling into the room. He paused, and both Izuru and Gin blushed. "I think I'm interrupting something. I'll come back later." He turned on his heel and left hurriedly.

Izuru looked Gin in the slitted eyes. "Aizen-san is here?"

"Well, um... Ya see..." Gin was slapped again. "Ow."

Izuru rolled off Gin. "What time is it?" He asked to the ceiling.

Gin shrugged. "I dunno."

"11:36!" Aizen called from somewhere else.

Izuru's heart sank. "He can hear us?" He whispered to Gin.

"I guess so."

Izuru curled up in a ball on his side, his dignity shriveling and dying.

"Now, don't be so hard on yourself," Gin crooned, wrapping an arm securely around Izuru's waist. His breath was hot on the back of Izuru's neck. He drew a fine line on Izuru's neck with his nose. Izuru stiffened. "An' lighten up. This is what lovers do." Izuru thought back to when he told Gin that he wasn't his lover. I guess that's been canceled out now. He let the muscles in his shoulders go loose. "That's it," Gin told Izuru in a susurrant voice. Izuru closed his eyes, breathing shallowly, as to not jostle them. Peace washed over him.

Aizen watched silently from the other room. He folded his arms, sighing. Looks like Gin won't be needing me anymore, now that he's found Kira-kun. He took off his glasses, folding them up and putting them in his shirt pocket, and pushed back his hair. A lock flopped on his nose, and he headed back to the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves. I wish them both luck.

Izuru knocked on his front door. He gulped, feeling the awkward as Gin and Aizen drove off in Aizen's growling silver convertible.

The doorknob rattled, and Shuuhei opened the door slowly, cup of black coffee in hand. "Izuru?" He asked.

"Hey," Izuru squeaked.

"Whose clothes are those? You're blushing like crazy, too." He stepped aside so Izuru could come in.

Izuru laughed nervously. "I am? Wow. Um, I had to borrow clothes from a... friend." Liar. Liar liar pants on fire. He tucked his hair behind his left ear. "After the festival."

"Whoa." Shuuhei almost dropped his coffee. "Did you just... tuck your hair? I can't believe it- the other side of your face actually exists. It isn't just a myth!" Izuru sat down in his favorite chair in the living room, pulling his knees up under his chin and the sleeves of Gin's gray sweatshirt over his hands with a cheesy grin. Shuuhei forcefully set his cup down on the kitchen table. "This is breaking news."

Izuru shrugged. There was a warm glow inside him. He smelled Gin's sweatshirt, which smelled like Old Spice- a combination of maybe nutmeg and ginger and possibly cloves. It was sharp, refreshing and somewhat intoxicating. Izuru liked it.

"What's on your ear?" Shuuhei asked, tipping his head to the side.

"My ear?" Izuru repeated, his fingers flying to his left ear. "Oh! My ear cuff? I guess people don't see it all that often, since my hair covers it a lot of the time." He touched the wide silver circle threaded through the cartilage above his ear lobe.

"It's cool," Shuuhei said, taking a long drink of his coffee.

Izuru looked down, his eyelashes brushing his cheek. "Thanks,"

"No problem. So is it an actual piercing? Or just one of those funky clip-ons?" Shuuhei dropped onto the couch.

"It's real." Izuru tugged on the loop of silver.

"Huh. I never knew you had that."

"Most people don't."

"Huh," Shuuhei echoed.

Izuru rested his chin on his knee.

Shuuhei turned on the television to the news. It was documenting last night's festival, and Izuru's ears perked up, and he watched the screen intently. Footage of the fireworks began to roll, and Izuru's eyes were pulled to the bottom left hand corner. They'd caught Gin and Izuru on film. Fortunately the cameras were so far away that you couldn't... see anything out of the ordinary, but Izuru noticed and turned the color of a beet. They actually looked rather natural doing what it was they were doing, Gin's hand on Izuru's shoulder, and Izuru's hand knotted in Gin's incredibly soft hair. He turtled into Gin's sweatshirt, pulling the collar up to his nose.

"Whoa, what's the intense blush for?" Shuuhei pulled off his reading glasses.

"What?" Izuru squawked. "Oh, um, I'm just- just remembering something." The image on the screen changed, and Izuru let out a tiny relieved breath.

"What kind of something?" Shuuhei pressed.

"Nothing i-important." Izuru stammered.

"That's kind of hard to believe when your face is the color of a stop sign."

Izuru let his hair become untucked. Shuuhei cackled, and let it drop.

This is the most embarrassed I've ever been, Izuru thought, resting his forehead on his knees.