[fic] Mine.

[kiyala.livejournal.com]

Title: Mine.
Author: kiyala
Word Count: 2400
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Kurosaki Ichigo / Ishida Uryuu
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex, swearing
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach
Notes: This is for Kink Bingo going on at dreamwidth. Kink is "collars"

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The club’s crowded with people in weird costumes. I’m one of them. Rukia’s made sure I’m properly dressed up for this fancy dress thing. Some weird party where we all get to hang out with each other again. We haven’t had much of that since high school ended. I’m dressed up like a vampire and because Rukia declared herself in charge of my costume, she’s covered my face with stuff that makes my skin look pale and she’s even found fake fangs somewhere.

Nearly everything I’m wearing is black – from the pants to the button-up shirt to the cloak. The only thing with colour is the lining inside of the cloak and that’s bright red. The only comforting thought is that the colours are kind of the same as my bankai clothes.

I dodge people with drinks and glance around. From the white bunny ears I can see, I guess that Rukia’s standing near the door. Probably with Inoue. I figure that as long as I’m walking in the opposite direction to them, I’m going the right way.

I’m so busy making sure the distance between me and those fuzzy ears is increasing that I don’t watch where I’m going and bump into someone. Their body’s all bony against mine and I’m glad they aren’t holding any drinks. I automatically reach out to steady them and pause when I touch their arm.

This person… guy, I think – I hope – looks amazing. He’s dressed up kinda gothy, with black eyeliner, a black collar around his neck with a big silver buckle on it, a black shirt that’s mostly undone until down past his chest, with a white t-shirt under it.

“Sorry,” I mumble, bringing my gaze back up to his face.

“You should watch where you’re going, Kurosaki.”

My eyes widen. Those eyes, black eyeliner around blue eyes, narrow at me.

“I-Ishida? Is that you?” I sputter. Classy.

“Who did you think it was, idiot?” he asks, steering me to an empty table and we sit.

“You’re not wearing your glasses,” is all I can say. I’m staring. I know I’m staring. He knows I’m staring.

I think it makes him feel uncomfortable because his fingers go to push up the glasses he’s not wearing. He brings them down to his side and speaks so I have to strain to hear him over the music. “Contacts. Kuchiki-san made me wear them.”

I roll my eyes. “Rukia plan your outfit too, huh?”

“Not entirely,” he replies. “She… gave me the general theme. The rest was my idea.”

“Oh.” I take the opportunity to look at him again. “Well you… look different.”

“Are you wearing fangs, Kurosaki?” he asks, peering into my mouth.

I open my mouth to show him. “Rukia’s fault.”

“Ah.”

We sit there, not really knowing what to do for a while before he turns to me. “Can I get you a drink?”

I grin at him. “You need to ask?”

“Right.” He stands, glancing at me, “The usual?”

“Yeah.” I sit back and watch him as he walks away. He’s wearing loose cargo pants – and he’s wearing as much black as I am. Not a look I’d ever actually imagined on him, ‘cause the guy’s always wearing white. But he makes it look good. For fuck’s sake, he could make anything look good.

He returns with two bottles of alcohol. I notice that he’s wearing leather wrist cuffs when he hands me my bottle. Without really thinking about it, I take hold of his arm and pull it closer so I can take a better look.

“Kurosaki?” he watches me carefully, eyebrows raised.

“…They look good,” I mumble, letting go of his wrist and taking a sip of my drink.

“Thank you,” he says, just loud enough for me to hear.

We drink and talk until Inoue sees us and walks towards us.

“Come on, you two! You see each other all the time! Tonight’s about meeting old friends we don't get to see as often!”

We look at each other and shrug. We know Chad can’t make it, because he’s overseas on holidays. I’ve already talked to Keigo and Mizuiro. There isn’t really anyone else to bother with, but Inoue frowns at us so we get up anyway, finishing off our bottles.

We walk through the crowd and I move closer to him so we don’t lose each other in the press of people. He stops for a moment to keep himself from running into someone in front of him and I find myself closer to him than I’d planned. My hands are on his sides and I feel him go rigid in my hands. He turns around to look at me and leans closer so he can speak into my ear.

“You make me wonder if the night can end in any way other than us sharing one of our beds.”

I grin, even though the thought of it makes my chest tighten with nervousness. “You have to wonder, Ishida?”

I notice a head of red hair from the corner of my eye – it’s… uh, Inoue’s friend. The lesbian one I can’t remember the name of. She watches me and Ishida with a curious look and he notices her too, moving away from me and walking through the crowd. I follow him, for lack of a better idea.

“She was staring at us,” he mutters to me when we’re further away from her. We’ve both looked around and can’t see anyone we know in sight. “You think she knows?”

I shrug. “Maybe she was staring because she didn’t recognise you.”

Ishida chuckles. “Not everyone is daft like you.”

“You look different,” I say defensively. “I couldn’t recognise you, and I’ve seen more of you than anyone else here.”

His cheeks turn a faint pink at that and I grin. There’s nobody looking at us so I tug him closer by his belt loops so I can speak right into his ear.

“There isn’t really anything keeping me here, now that I’ve found you. Do you think we’ll be missed if we disappear?”

He shakes his head. “Perhaps I could go. But do you really think people won’t notice their Kurosaki Ichigo going missing?”

There’s a bitter edge to his voice that makes me want to kiss him and tell him he’s being stupid. The annoying thing is that it’s true, even if I don’t want it to be. He clears his throat and I realise I’m still holding onto his belt loops. I let go and he takes a small step backward. I move towards him. I know him well enough to know he wants to disappear into the crowd. I don’t want to let him slip away.

“Ishida…”

“Oh! Ichigo! Ishida! There you are!” Rukia spots us and cuts through the crowd.

I turn, cursing under my breath as I watch the bunny ears bounce in the air. At least she’s made Ishida stop too.

“I thought you were sitting down before! Are you dancing?” she asks, as if it’s the world’s most innocent question.

“Not dancing,” Ishida replies quickly.

“I’m surprised you haven’t left yet,” she says, raising an eyebrow at me.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask with a frown.

“It means…” she says with a devious look, “If people start asking where you’ve gone, I’ll tell them that Ishida has a headache and you’ve taken him home.”

I glance at Ishida, who gives me one of his rare I’m-in-public-but-I-don’t-care grins and inclines his head to Rukia with a polite, “Thank you, Kuchiki-san.”

We don’t waste any time getting out of the club. His apartment’s in walking distance and I surprise myself by actually managing to keep my hands off him until we’re behind the closed door.

But as soon as we are, I pull him closer and kiss him hard. “You look fucking amazing tonight. What the hell, Ishida. It shouldn’t be possible for a guy to look this good in eyeliner. And that damn collar…”

I run my fingers across the strip leather around his neck and only then notice that his old Quincy Cross is hanging from it. He sighs happily and I dip my head so I can kiss whatever part of his neck isn’t covered by the collar.

He makes an amused sound, “Not with those fangs in your mouth, Kurosaki.”

“Right.” I press a kiss to his lips, “Meet you in the bedroom?”

His lips curl into a smile. “Don’t make me wait.”

I take the fangs out and leave them in a glass in his bathroom until I can do something about them later. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for me. I cross the room and lean over him to kiss him, pushing him so he’s lying down.

“I really need to thank Rukia later,” I tell him. “Because otherwise, I probably would’ve jumped you in the club.”

“I would have liked to see you explain that to everyone else,” he replies, fingering the collar of my cloak. “…This looks good on you.”

“This,” I say, motioning to everything he’s wearing, “Looks good on you. Everything does, damn it.”

He smiles at the compliment, undoing the cloak so it falls away. I unzip his shirt and pull his t-shirt over his head, but I leave the collar in place.

He watches me, eyebrows raised. “What do you want to do with me, Kurosaki?”

“Wanna fuck you,” I murmur, kissing him briefly. “You’re mine.”

I don’t really know what makes me say it. We hardly ever – no, never – talk in terms of ownership, but right now it’s the only way I can put my thoughts into words. I hold my breath, worried I’ve overstepped the weird invisible boundary that we don’t really understand. He looks at me for a moment and then props himself up by the elbows, kissing me. “I’m yours. You’re mine.”

I grin at him and touch his collar. “You’re the one wearing this.”

He rolls us over, grinding against me just once. Enough to have my head spinning. He kisses my neck and murmurs into my ear, “Please, Kurosaki. You should know by now that I could have you begging me if I wanted.”

I grin up at him. It isn’t all that often that we do this. Mainly because we’re still trying to figure out what it means about us. But the one thing I know is that as much as he loves control, he’s always louder, more desperate and comes harder when I’m the one fucking him. And from the way he’s looking at me, he knows it too.

I take advantage of the fact that he’s sitting on me and start undoing his pants. He responds by tearing my shirt apart, sending buttons flying.

“Hey, I liked that shirt!”

“I’ll fix it,” he murmurs, pushing the material aside and running his hands down my chest. “The way it should be.”

“Get out of these,” I tell him, tugging at his pants. He gets off the bed and stands, pulling them off. I do the same with mine.

“Still so fucking pretty,” I drink in the sight of him naked except the collar. He’s still wearing the eyeliner and his eyes look even brighter than they did in the club.

“I don’t think pretty would be right word for you,” he replies, moving closer to me, until he speaks with his lips against mine. “But far too attractive for one person? Definitely.”

“You’re biased,” I tell him as I kiss him. Like I’m not.

“True. You are naked and about to screw me. That probably works in your favour.”

I hold the sides of his face with both hands, thumbs stroking over the soft skin, smudging the eyeliner in places.

“You’re mine,” I say it again, just because I like being reminded of it.

“We’ve already established that fact,” he murmurs with a smile. He touches his collar. “But you know what? Perhaps I’ll spoil you.”

“How?” I watch eagerly as he moves to the bedside table and takes the lube out of the top drawer. He settles on the bed, making sure I’m looking at him before coating his fingers with it.

“Fuck yes,” I moan when I realise what he’s doing. He pushes his fingers into himself and scissors, stretching himself. For me.

He groans in response, jerking his hips against his fingers. I find the condoms and roll one on, kneeling on the bed and rubbing some lube onto my fingers. Instead of putting it on my cock, I push my fingers into Ishida. He gasps, but then I push my fingers deeper and he shudders with pleasure. I keep rubbing that one place in him that I’m already pretty damn familiar with and he throws his head back, letting out a mix between a whimper and a moan.

“Kurosaki please.”

“Please?” I murmur, pushing my fingers a little harder against that nub.

“Fuck me,” he gasps, his voice strained.

“You sure?” I tease with a grin, already rubbing lube onto my cock with my other hand.

“Fuck, do it.”

“Nice and hard?” I ask him, withdrawing my fingers and wrapping them around the base of my cock. “Just how you like it?”

“Mmm.”

I enter him as gently as I can and he moans, arching and grabbing onto the bed sheets. His skin is pale, even paler in the moonlight that filters through the window, and shines with sweat. The black collar around his neck is beautiful in its contrast. We thrust against each other, moving faster, wanting more. He cries out in pleasure as I take hold of his cock and pump it along with our thrusts and he comes first, all over my hand and himself. A few more thrusts and I’m following him, trying to hold myself up from collapsing onto him.

We roll onto our sides and he winces, reaching to the collar and unbuckling it, dropping it on the bed. “Stupid thing itches.”

“All night?”

He rubs his neck and frowns. “Right in the middle of sex.”

I laugh breathlessly. “We need to get a more comfortable one.”

He raises an eyebrow. “In your size. With a leash.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh trust me, Kurosaki,” he smirks at me, crawling on top of me and kissing me hard. “I most definitely would.”


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