[fic] Surprise
Apr. 2nd, 2010 02:37 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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shannys_cornerTitle: Surprise
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kiyala
Word Count: 1944
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Abarai Renji/Kurosaki Ichigo
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mansex :D
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach
Notes: Happy birthdayakuni!! ♥
They don’t see each other nearly enough. Not when they’re in different worlds, busy attending to their own duties. They rarely cross paths when they are at work; only in times of dire need, and they both know better than to wish for such a situation just to see each other.
It is the middle of the night and Ichigo grumbles under his breath, more irritated at the fact that he’s missing parts of the movie he’d been watching on TV than at being dragged out into the cold to dispatch the latest threat to Karakura. Weaving through the buildings as he closes in on the Hollow he can hear far before he can see, the moon shines pale light on him when it isn’t obscured by dark clouds and the bright orange of his hair contrasts with the dark surroundings.
The Hollow is large, but slow and stupid. With the quietest grunt of effort, Ichigo hefts his zanpakuto, driving it through the large, white mask. It splits and then disappears as the Hollow disintegrates into small particles that are carried away by the wind.
Ichigo sighs quietly, running a hand through his hair, ready to turn around and return home when he hears someone clapping quietly.
“Nice. Haven’t had the chance to see you do that for a while.”
Ichigo’s eyes widen and he looks up, searching for the owner of the voice. He’s right there in front of him and Ichigo wonders how he could have missed the bright crimson hair.
“Renji!”
He’s given a cocky grin in reply. The older Shinigami steps forward through the air, landing without a sound in front of Ichigo. “Yo. You’re way too easy to surprise.”
Instead of scowling, Ichigo grins right back. “’The Hell are you doing skulking around Karakura for? Could’ve said something if you were coming.”
“Idiot. Do you know what a surprise is?” Renji asks, but he doesn’t give Ichigo the opportunity to reply before tugging him closer by the front of his Shinigami uniform. Their lips meet briefly and Ichigo can feel Renji still grinning. “I wanted to be the unpredictable one, this time.”
Ichigo pulls back just far enough to look at Renji. “How long are you here for?”
“Couple of days,” Renji shrugs. “Supposed to go see Urahara about a gigai, but I figured it could wait ‘til morning.”
Ichigo raises an eyebrow, happily accepting the fact that he’s not going to be watching any more of that movie he left running on the TV. “My place, then?”
Having moved out of home when he’d started university, Ichigo lives in a small, one-bedroom flat that is dark no matter what time of day it is. They slip in through the open window he’d left from and they find themselves in each other’s arms, already unconsciously edging towards the bed.
“Been a while,” Ichigo murmurs, inhaling the familiar, heady smell that is Renji; a mixture of soap and sweat that has his mouth watering. Renji’s large, rough hands settle on the sides of his face, pulling him in for a deep kiss.
“I think Rukia talked Taichou into sending me here for a while,” Renji said with a smirk, adding, “She said you were getting mopey.”
“The Hell I was,” Ichigo grumbles, “Just wait til I—”
He can’t finish as Renji kisses him again, hungrily this time, and he returns the kiss with the same hunger, deciding that whatever she’d said, he does owe Rukia for this. And then the thought’s completely out of his mind as Renji’s lips move down to Ichigo’s neck, licking his Adam’s apple, nipping the skin where his neck meets his shoulder.
“You don’t change,” Renji murmurs against Ichigo’s skin, which is a half-truth, because the Ichigo in his arms is taller and more muscled than the fifteen year-old brat he’d beaten the shit out of that first time. He looks different, while Renji doesn’t. But neither of their personalities have changed and the older Shinigami takes comfort in that, appreciating the fact that the way Ichigo’s body responds to whatever he does stays the same, too.
“Of course I don’t.” Ichigo grins, grabbing a handful of Renji’s hair and pulling him into another kiss. Moaning as he tastes the subtle sweetness and tang of Renji’s mouth, he tightens his grip and kisses harder.
“Whoa, whoa, hold it,” Renji murmurs, holding Ichigo by the shoulders, giving himself just enough room to speak. “Bring your reiatsu down a couple notches. I know you can’t feel it but right now, I bet everyone else in the fuckin’ world can.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Ichigo asks with a small smirk. Renji feels the energy around him pulse and increase again and Ichigo doesn’t miss the effect it has.
“Damn it,” Renji grunts, pushing his leg between Ichigo’s and grabbing him by the butt, pulling him closer. “You’re a tricky bastard. Always have been.”
Ichigo snickers against Renji’s mouth, trailing off into a soft moan as their hips rock against each other. Renji’s hands move up, across hard muscle and over broad shoulders, and Ichigo sighs appreciatively as he feels Renji’s fingers gently scratching the back of his neck, where hair and skin meet.
A long time ago, Ichigo had discovered that it’s a lot easier to let his reiatsu rise than to bring it back down, the former requiring using less effort than usual. So between Renji’s cock, his soft lips and the slow-moving fingers that are slowly but steadily driving him insane in the best way possible, Ichigo simply lets go.
“Fuck,” Renji moans, and his voice has a rough quality to it that makes Ichigo grin triumphantly. To make it even better, Ichigo can feel Renji’s erection growing to full hardness right against his own. “That’s cheating, you bastard. You don’t even feel it if I do the same thing.”
“Makes it more fun,” Ichigo replies, reaching up to untie Renji’s hair and running his hands through it. “Besides, you’re the one who taught me all about playing unfair.”
In response, Renji turns his head and bites into Ichigo’s neck, right where he likes it, drawing out a deep moan in reply. He feels Ichigo lean further into him, and smirks. “Damn right.”
After years of knocking each other around, they’ve never really seen the point of being gentle with each other. The bed’s close enough, so Renji pushes Ichigo hard enough to send him stumbling backwards and then crawls on top of him, a predatory grin spreading across his face.
“You missed me.”
Ichigo snorts. “Yeah right. You missed me.”
“As if.”
In response, Ichigo lets his reiatsu rise a little more. Renji growls involuntarily, and Ichigo laughs. “Who’s the one who missed me so much their cock goes hard at my reiatsu?”
“You’d probably do the same thing with mine if you weren’t too fucking thick to feel it,” Renji replies, slipping a hand between their bodies and cupping Ichigo’s erection to cut off further argument. It works; Ichigo’s head falls back and he lets out a long, hissing breath. “Mm, fuck you’re hard. You want this bad, don’t you?”
Ichigo grunts as Renji rubs his cock through the material of his hakama. “You—you do, too.”
“Hell yeah.” Renji’s voice is low and filled with lust. His hands go to the tie at Ichigo’s waist, pulling it undone. Ichigo returns the favour and they undress each other the with an ease that comes from plenty of experience.
Renji licks his lips once they’re naked, eyeing Ichigo’s erection. If either of them were any more patient, they’d tease each other to the point of torture. Because they’re not, they simply reach for each others’ cocks, stroking as they kiss. They’re too impatient to do anything but jack each other off. For now, anyway, and they pant as one, hips jerking, lips and tongues meeting now and then between their frantic motions.
Ichigo comes first with a stifled moan, stroking harder until he feels Renji stiffen against him and let out a low grunt. They look up at each other and Renji grins wickedly, pressing their lips together and then kissing his way across Ichigo’s jaw and down his neck. He chuckles as he feels Ichigo’s cock stir once again and he moves his mouth to Ichigo’s ear. “You want me so badly you can’t even deny it.”
“Shut up,” Ichigo grumbles, even as he reaches to open the top drawer of his bedside table.
Renji reaches into the drawer too, fingers closing around a familiarly shaped tube. He pulls it out to find it’s already been half used, and snickers. “You did miss me.”
Ichigo’s fingers close around Renji’s wrist, pulling him back down onto the bed, where he is silenced with a rough kiss. It distracts Renji for just long enough that Ichigo can snatch the lube out of his hand and roll them over. Renji’s eyes widen in surprise, and Ichigo smirks, bringing his lips to the older Shinigami’s neck and kissing the skin gently before biting into it.
“Tricky bastard,” Renji grumbles, but his expression shows that he’s not at all upset by this turn of events. “It better be good.”
“Renji,” Ichigo murmurs, amusement in his voice. “You know I’m always good.”
Before Renji can call him a cocky bastard too, Ichigo’s fingers are slick and gently probing. Renji shudders, his entire body remembering just how badly he wants this, and how long he’s had to wait this time. Ichigo is always gentle at first, but neither of them are patient people. It only takes a grunt of approval and a growled request for more before Ichigo stops being gentle and starts doing what he really wants to do, which is reduce Renji to an incoherent mess.
He knows Renji’s body well, knows what works best, and curls his fingers at just the right place. Renji’s head falls back with a breathless moan, gasping and gripping onto Ichigo’s arm so hard that it would hurt if they weren’t so used to each other.
“Fuck, Ichigo.”
Ichigo grins, continuing to rub his fingers against that one spot until he decides that he’s sick of simply watching. Smearing lube onto his cock, he pulls Renji closer and thrusts gently. Renji swears in a low voice, which Ichigo echoes. They’ve both gone for far too long without this and they don’t care about getting a rhythm to their thrusts against each other, or anything at all except for the desperate need to get off, to get each other off, and Ichigo drinks in the sight of Renji beneath him, body stretched out against the mattress, tattoos visible against pale skin even in the dark, bright hair spread out and catching the light from some source, bringing a dash of colour to the room.
Renji is muttering under his breath – a string of swear words, mingled with Ichigo’s name, with a little bit of yes, yes, like that – and the sound of his voice, low and lust-filled, has Ichigo on the brink of release. His grip on Renji tightens and he moans the other’s name as he comes. Renji isn’t far behind him and they both collapse onto the mattress, still holding onto each other, panting softly.
“Heh. If that’s what you’re like when we don’t see each other for a while, I should spend more time away,” Renji says, which is what he says every time. They both know he doesn’t mean it, but it’s easier than actually admitting that they miss each other.
Ichigo snorts quietly, running a hand through Renji’s long hair. “Like you could stay away.”
x
Author:
kiyalaWord Count: 1944
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Abarai Renji/Kurosaki Ichigo
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mansex :D
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach
Notes: Happy birthday
akuni!! ♥They don’t see each other nearly enough. Not when they’re in different worlds, busy attending to their own duties. They rarely cross paths when they are at work; only in times of dire need, and they both know better than to wish for such a situation just to see each other.
It is the middle of the night and Ichigo grumbles under his breath, more irritated at the fact that he’s missing parts of the movie he’d been watching on TV than at being dragged out into the cold to dispatch the latest threat to Karakura. Weaving through the buildings as he closes in on the Hollow he can hear far before he can see, the moon shines pale light on him when it isn’t obscured by dark clouds and the bright orange of his hair contrasts with the dark surroundings.
The Hollow is large, but slow and stupid. With the quietest grunt of effort, Ichigo hefts his zanpakuto, driving it through the large, white mask. It splits and then disappears as the Hollow disintegrates into small particles that are carried away by the wind.
Ichigo sighs quietly, running a hand through his hair, ready to turn around and return home when he hears someone clapping quietly.
“Nice. Haven’t had the chance to see you do that for a while.”
Ichigo’s eyes widen and he looks up, searching for the owner of the voice. He’s right there in front of him and Ichigo wonders how he could have missed the bright crimson hair.
“Renji!”
He’s given a cocky grin in reply. The older Shinigami steps forward through the air, landing without a sound in front of Ichigo. “Yo. You’re way too easy to surprise.”
Instead of scowling, Ichigo grins right back. “’The Hell are you doing skulking around Karakura for? Could’ve said something if you were coming.”
“Idiot. Do you know what a surprise is?” Renji asks, but he doesn’t give Ichigo the opportunity to reply before tugging him closer by the front of his Shinigami uniform. Their lips meet briefly and Ichigo can feel Renji still grinning. “I wanted to be the unpredictable one, this time.”
Ichigo pulls back just far enough to look at Renji. “How long are you here for?”
“Couple of days,” Renji shrugs. “Supposed to go see Urahara about a gigai, but I figured it could wait ‘til morning.”
Ichigo raises an eyebrow, happily accepting the fact that he’s not going to be watching any more of that movie he left running on the TV. “My place, then?”
Having moved out of home when he’d started university, Ichigo lives in a small, one-bedroom flat that is dark no matter what time of day it is. They slip in through the open window he’d left from and they find themselves in each other’s arms, already unconsciously edging towards the bed.
“Been a while,” Ichigo murmurs, inhaling the familiar, heady smell that is Renji; a mixture of soap and sweat that has his mouth watering. Renji’s large, rough hands settle on the sides of his face, pulling him in for a deep kiss.
“I think Rukia talked Taichou into sending me here for a while,” Renji said with a smirk, adding, “She said you were getting mopey.”
“The Hell I was,” Ichigo grumbles, “Just wait til I—”
He can’t finish as Renji kisses him again, hungrily this time, and he returns the kiss with the same hunger, deciding that whatever she’d said, he does owe Rukia for this. And then the thought’s completely out of his mind as Renji’s lips move down to Ichigo’s neck, licking his Adam’s apple, nipping the skin where his neck meets his shoulder.
“You don’t change,” Renji murmurs against Ichigo’s skin, which is a half-truth, because the Ichigo in his arms is taller and more muscled than the fifteen year-old brat he’d beaten the shit out of that first time. He looks different, while Renji doesn’t. But neither of their personalities have changed and the older Shinigami takes comfort in that, appreciating the fact that the way Ichigo’s body responds to whatever he does stays the same, too.
“Of course I don’t.” Ichigo grins, grabbing a handful of Renji’s hair and pulling him into another kiss. Moaning as he tastes the subtle sweetness and tang of Renji’s mouth, he tightens his grip and kisses harder.
“Whoa, whoa, hold it,” Renji murmurs, holding Ichigo by the shoulders, giving himself just enough room to speak. “Bring your reiatsu down a couple notches. I know you can’t feel it but right now, I bet everyone else in the fuckin’ world can.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Ichigo asks with a small smirk. Renji feels the energy around him pulse and increase again and Ichigo doesn’t miss the effect it has.
“Damn it,” Renji grunts, pushing his leg between Ichigo’s and grabbing him by the butt, pulling him closer. “You’re a tricky bastard. Always have been.”
Ichigo snickers against Renji’s mouth, trailing off into a soft moan as their hips rock against each other. Renji’s hands move up, across hard muscle and over broad shoulders, and Ichigo sighs appreciatively as he feels Renji’s fingers gently scratching the back of his neck, where hair and skin meet.
A long time ago, Ichigo had discovered that it’s a lot easier to let his reiatsu rise than to bring it back down, the former requiring using less effort than usual. So between Renji’s cock, his soft lips and the slow-moving fingers that are slowly but steadily driving him insane in the best way possible, Ichigo simply lets go.
“Fuck,” Renji moans, and his voice has a rough quality to it that makes Ichigo grin triumphantly. To make it even better, Ichigo can feel Renji’s erection growing to full hardness right against his own. “That’s cheating, you bastard. You don’t even feel it if I do the same thing.”
“Makes it more fun,” Ichigo replies, reaching up to untie Renji’s hair and running his hands through it. “Besides, you’re the one who taught me all about playing unfair.”
In response, Renji turns his head and bites into Ichigo’s neck, right where he likes it, drawing out a deep moan in reply. He feels Ichigo lean further into him, and smirks. “Damn right.”
After years of knocking each other around, they’ve never really seen the point of being gentle with each other. The bed’s close enough, so Renji pushes Ichigo hard enough to send him stumbling backwards and then crawls on top of him, a predatory grin spreading across his face.
“You missed me.”
Ichigo snorts. “Yeah right. You missed me.”
“As if.”
In response, Ichigo lets his reiatsu rise a little more. Renji growls involuntarily, and Ichigo laughs. “Who’s the one who missed me so much their cock goes hard at my reiatsu?”
“You’d probably do the same thing with mine if you weren’t too fucking thick to feel it,” Renji replies, slipping a hand between their bodies and cupping Ichigo’s erection to cut off further argument. It works; Ichigo’s head falls back and he lets out a long, hissing breath. “Mm, fuck you’re hard. You want this bad, don’t you?”
Ichigo grunts as Renji rubs his cock through the material of his hakama. “You—you do, too.”
“Hell yeah.” Renji’s voice is low and filled with lust. His hands go to the tie at Ichigo’s waist, pulling it undone. Ichigo returns the favour and they undress each other the with an ease that comes from plenty of experience.
Renji licks his lips once they’re naked, eyeing Ichigo’s erection. If either of them were any more patient, they’d tease each other to the point of torture. Because they’re not, they simply reach for each others’ cocks, stroking as they kiss. They’re too impatient to do anything but jack each other off. For now, anyway, and they pant as one, hips jerking, lips and tongues meeting now and then between their frantic motions.
Ichigo comes first with a stifled moan, stroking harder until he feels Renji stiffen against him and let out a low grunt. They look up at each other and Renji grins wickedly, pressing their lips together and then kissing his way across Ichigo’s jaw and down his neck. He chuckles as he feels Ichigo’s cock stir once again and he moves his mouth to Ichigo’s ear. “You want me so badly you can’t even deny it.”
“Shut up,” Ichigo grumbles, even as he reaches to open the top drawer of his bedside table.
Renji reaches into the drawer too, fingers closing around a familiarly shaped tube. He pulls it out to find it’s already been half used, and snickers. “You did miss me.”
Ichigo’s fingers close around Renji’s wrist, pulling him back down onto the bed, where he is silenced with a rough kiss. It distracts Renji for just long enough that Ichigo can snatch the lube out of his hand and roll them over. Renji’s eyes widen in surprise, and Ichigo smirks, bringing his lips to the older Shinigami’s neck and kissing the skin gently before biting into it.
“Tricky bastard,” Renji grumbles, but his expression shows that he’s not at all upset by this turn of events. “It better be good.”
“Renji,” Ichigo murmurs, amusement in his voice. “You know I’m always good.”
Before Renji can call him a cocky bastard too, Ichigo’s fingers are slick and gently probing. Renji shudders, his entire body remembering just how badly he wants this, and how long he’s had to wait this time. Ichigo is always gentle at first, but neither of them are patient people. It only takes a grunt of approval and a growled request for more before Ichigo stops being gentle and starts doing what he really wants to do, which is reduce Renji to an incoherent mess.
He knows Renji’s body well, knows what works best, and curls his fingers at just the right place. Renji’s head falls back with a breathless moan, gasping and gripping onto Ichigo’s arm so hard that it would hurt if they weren’t so used to each other.
“Fuck, Ichigo.”
Ichigo grins, continuing to rub his fingers against that one spot until he decides that he’s sick of simply watching. Smearing lube onto his cock, he pulls Renji closer and thrusts gently. Renji swears in a low voice, which Ichigo echoes. They’ve both gone for far too long without this and they don’t care about getting a rhythm to their thrusts against each other, or anything at all except for the desperate need to get off, to get each other off, and Ichigo drinks in the sight of Renji beneath him, body stretched out against the mattress, tattoos visible against pale skin even in the dark, bright hair spread out and catching the light from some source, bringing a dash of colour to the room.
Renji is muttering under his breath – a string of swear words, mingled with Ichigo’s name, with a little bit of yes, yes, like that – and the sound of his voice, low and lust-filled, has Ichigo on the brink of release. His grip on Renji tightens and he moans the other’s name as he comes. Renji isn’t far behind him and they both collapse onto the mattress, still holding onto each other, panting softly.
“Heh. If that’s what you’re like when we don’t see each other for a while, I should spend more time away,” Renji says, which is what he says every time. They both know he doesn’t mean it, but it’s easier than actually admitting that they miss each other.
Ichigo snorts quietly, running a hand through Renji’s long hair. “Like you could stay away.”
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