"I can see your nipples through that shirt."
I choke a little on my hot chocolate, the mug burning hot against my frozen fingers.
"It's freezing in here. I'm a human being. Why are you looking at my nipples anyway, you freak?"
"I like 'em. They're a really vivid pink. Hot pink, I'd say. Not a colour I've seen on many other people."
"What the fuck are you talking about, Renji?"
"Well, mine are kinda reddish brown, Hisagi's are dark too- purple almost, Taichou's are a really light, kinda sugary pink..."
"Byakuya has... when did you...?" My mind boggles at how many people's nipples Renji has apparently seen and committed to memory. He just has no sense of decency- he once high-fived me while we were pissing at a urinal. I'm not sure if I love him in spite of that, or because of it.
He laughs at my incredulous face and then asks, "How come you didn't want coffee? You're the one that got me into drinking this stupid stuff in the first place."
His laugh is deep and rich, like the coffee. I hate to admit it, but he does look kind of amazing today. Even though we're indoors he's wearing a black woolly beanie hat that he's tried to stuff his loose ponytail into, it barely covers more than the back of his head, and tendrils of shocking red hang around his face. Under his chin is a bundle of navy blue scarf, wrapped haphazardly around him (by me, I didn't want him to freeze on the way to the coffee shop, the big idiot) and he's half-wearing a black leather bomber jacket with tan furry lapels that looks like he bought it in the seventies. He clutches his takeout coffee cup in fingerless gloves.
"I wanted hot chocolate." I say finally.
He grins at me again, his sharp smile almost reaching his sideburns. "Ichigo wanted chocolate. What a surprise."
I drag Ichigo by the elbow of his coat across the street. "C'mon. You said you were bored."
He looks at me, scowling. His cheeks are red from the stinging wind and his lips look chapped. It's adorable, I want to grope his skinny ass. But later. I'm tired as hell and freezing my nuts off, so it's time for coffee.
We stand awkwardly in the coffee shop, waiting in line. Ichigo shoves his hands in his pockets, and I let my gaze sweep the place. It's still a little odd for me to be in places full of humans, blending in, pretending I'm not squashed into a weak, fake body. But these days no gigai equals no Ichigo, and that's bullshit, so I deal with it.
It's even odder to me to have an Ichigo minus his powers. There was always this huge gulf between our strengths, although I never admitted it to him, and then just like that it was gone, and he was... human again. Defenceless, as weak as a kitten. Rukia didn't go back to the world of the living after Ichigo lost his powers, she found it too painful. And it was. Heartbreaking. But I couldn't stay away from him, especially now. I swore to myself, like so many times before, that I'd protect him with my life. Kuchiki-taichou was astoundingly supportive- "What you do in your free time does not interest me in the least. Do as you will." - considering that we, the Soul Society, no longer have any business with him. But I do. Ichigo is always my business, because he's mine. My human, my man. Anyone who tries to come between me stuffing my ass into Urahara's crappy gigai and coming to the little house I rent in Karakura to see him can suck my balls. But not like this kid. So here I am.
We get our drinks- originally I thought I'd be cool and go for black coffee, like on television here, but that shit's disgusting so I get a caramel latte with about five packets of sugar messily stirred in- and I watch Ichigo sip his hot chocolate as we walk home. We walk side by side and I nudge him with my hip, jostling him slightly. He gives me a pointed look, but then smiles a little and pushes me back. I sling an arm through his, hand still in his pocket, and we walk the rest of the way huddled together like penguins. It really is cold- it kind of looks like it might snow later. That might be fun.
"They're really sticking out now. Like bullets. It's almost indecent. You should consider a bra so people don't just go around tweaking them."
"Seriously, what is this? We've been talking- no, you have been talking about my nipples for a good twenty minutes now. And did you actually just suggest a bra!" I can feel my face getting hot. Is he messing with me?
He shrugs. "It was just a suggestion. They're just a little distracting is all."
"Oh my God!" I exclaim exasperatedly. "If you're so damn interested, fine, here!" I yank up my tshirt, the cold air of the room stinging my bare skin as I expose myself to Renji for reasons I'm not entirely sure of now I'm actually doing it. He looks up from his coffee, mouth open in amusement, and gives me a look that sweeps my chest and my standing form. I feel kind of uncomfortable now. Even though it's bitterly cold, the way he looks at me is hot and... hungry.
"Come here." He eventually says. His voice's register has changed completely, it's a low, serious, "don't fuck with me" tone, and I wonder if this is how he talks to his subordinates. Then I wonder why he's speaking to me like that. Something twists in my stomach and my chest tightens. I'm not a shinigami any more- Renji is a lot stronger than me now. Even if I don't do as he says, he might- God, he could do whatever he wanted to me and there wouldn't be a thing I could do about it.
As I walk over to him I decide that it's definitely not okay that my cock just twitched at the thought of Renji overpowering me. Not okay at all.
He takes the bait beautifully. It's perfect.
Ichigo slams his drink down on the floor next to where he's sitting, stand up, and pulls up that captivatingly tight tshirt of his. He looks angry and indignant, but fuck me he looks gorgeous with it. His skin is flushed from the exposure, his chest and stomach look so smooth and biteable, and yeah, his nipples really are erect. Hot pink indeed. Must be a ginger thing. I run my eyes all over him, watching his chest rise and fall in frustration. He's all worked up and I'm the lucky bastard than gets to unwind him. Even though he can't swing a zanpakto any more, he could definitely still punch me in the face. Or slap me. He hasn't slapped me in a while. I bite my lip a little. I moaned like a whore the last time he hit me. He was so freaked out he stopped threatening me with violence for almost two days. It made me kind of sad. Ichigo isn't Ichigo unless he's threatening to beat my ass, the little punk.
I snap out of it and summon him over to me, my voice unintentionally authoritative. He blushes slightly and I want to lick his red cheeks and call him a naughty boy. Fuck it, maybe I will. I know how gooey it sends him when I talk dirty, and lately I just can't stop the fountain of filth that escapes my mouth every time we touch.
He walks over to me, and I reach out and take his hand, guiding him to sit in my lap, and he does, hesitantly. Once he settles I lean up and forwards and gently kiss his lips, which are wet and warm with hot chocolate still, and our cold noses prod eachother's cheeks. He sighs into the kiss a little, seeming less annoyed already, and in that moment my arousal recedes like a wave, just for a moment, and my chest swells because I adore him. Having him sit on me, all teenage limbs and soft skin, is so perfect it makes me wish I could stop time. But then his hand is moving mine, and he's placing it on his chest and fuck! He put my hand onto his nipple. I can feel it poking my palm. My sappy feelings evaporate instantly and that wave of arousal comes crashing down on me again, telling me to just get nakedand rub up against him till we make sparks.
I drag my hand down his chest a little until my fingertips rest on the swollen nub, and I circle it with my forefinger before sweeping up with my thumb to pinch and twist and roll it, and his head lolls back and he lets out the breathiest, softest gasp. I feel his thighs tense above my own and I chuckle darkly. He wanted this the whole time. When did you become so tsundere, Ichigo? I slide my hands round to his back and rub up and down, trying to keep him warm as he wriggles out of his shirt, and when he does, I dip my head and give a hot, wet kiss to the other nipple. His skin's salty but fresh-tasting, possibly a lick of citrus? It's a taste I know better than my own name but I can never pin down its components. I bow my head even lower and lick from his solar plexus up, up between his pecs, and up to his neck, leaving a glistening trail that cools instantly, making him shiver. I suck at his neck before denting the trapped skin with my front teeth, pulling ever so slightly.
I open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling as Renji sucks and bites my neck. I'm shirtless in his lap and I'm starting to rock my hips back and forth- if someone walked in right now it'd look like I was giving him a lapdance. I decide it's time I took control and undressed him.
I start with his hat, pulling it back off his head so his hair spills out, barely tied up after being scrunched into the confined space for so long, then slowly unravel his scarf, revealing that tattooed neck and throat I so badly want to touch. Next I stand up and push his jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and hike up his sweater so his chest is exposed too. He shivers and I press myself up flush against him as I tug it off, his hands above his head as if he was being patted down and searched. Renji stares up at me, his eyes aflame, and I fleetingly notice it's less cold in his living room- thank God he had the sense to rent a place for when he visits, we get no privacy at my house- as our hot breath puffs out around us.
I undo the buckle of my belt and start sliding down my jeans, only then remembering that I'm wearing those boxers my boss bought me as a joke, bright red covered in chocolate kisses, and feel stupid for a second, but then I look up and watch Renji wiggling out of his flares to reveal black briefs with loud, neon print proclaiming, "ORGASM DONOR" under a medical cross that strains obscenely over the bulge beneath. I chuckle, finding his cockiness suddenly endearing. Finally, we stand before eachother, clad only in our underwear, and smile before clashing together, aching and needing the other's heat, needing his touch, his smell, that firm body all over me. He kisses me messily with a little too much tongue, tasting bittersweet from his overloaded coffee. Our hands roam all over eachother, rubbing down sides and backs and limbs to try and speed up our circulation, and I notice Renji is still wearing those fingerless gloves, the wool making me itch as it caresses me. I grab a hand and unceremoniously tug the glove off, then claim his other hand and do the same. His hands are pretty cold actually.
I reach down between us and palm him through his boxers, feeling how hard and hot he is against my hand, and he groans into my mouth. I want so many thing at once I don't even know what to do next. I want to slide his cock down my throat, want to feel his fingers in me, want to feel him lick me all over, maybe even pin me against the floor with his weight and- oh.
He's rubbing me too, working his hand around me, squeezing and tugging and stroking with one hand and pulling at the waistband of my underwear with the other, his thumb hooked in. I stop massaging him for a second and put my hand on top of his to help him pull my boxers off, and the cold air hits my balls in a way that's kind of refreshing and kind of painful all at once. He places his hand around my throbbing cock and I yelp from the coolness of his touch.
Ichigo yelps as my cold hands makes contact with his sensitive flesh and I smirk. I love making him flinch. His hands roam to my sides and tugs down my underwear, which falls to my ankles. I step out of them and now we're both naked, kissing and groping eachother, still standing. It really is too cold for this. Fuck it.
I break away from him and wander into my bedroom, and return to my confused lover with a bottle of lube in one hand and the other securing my duvet that's draped over a shoulder.
"Get on the couch." I tell him, and he does.
I pad over to him softly, and place the bottle on the floor before climbing on top of him, covering us both in the duvet's soft warmth. He sighs and arches underneath me, obviously more comfortable.
"Renji..." He whispers, his lips crushed against my shoulder.
I smile down at him. "Tell me what you want..." I want to hear him talk dirty.
"Don't... care.. Do whatever you want to me... Please."
I don't need to be told twice.
I get up onto my knees and straddle my way up his body so I'm sitting on his chest and my cock is pointed at his face.
"Suck me." I say as softly as I can, but it comes out gravelly and demanding.
He sits up as much as he can with my weight on him and licks my leaking head, his eyes fluttering closed. His tongue is so soft and pink and wet, it's a little overwhelming at first but the cold anchors me and I sink down on him a little more, until most of me is in his mouth, and he sucks hard, swirling his tongue around me. This feels so fucking dirty, I'm practically sitting on his face, stuffing my dick down his throat. His hands are on my hips, stopping me from thrusting any further, but I've got a better use for them. I lean over slightly to pick the lube up off the floor, and take one of his hands in mine.
"I want you to get yourself ready for me.." I pant, and squeeze some lube into his palm.
He blinks up at me in recognition, still working me with his mouth and starting to drool, and somewhere behind me I feel his hips tilt upwards as he moves his hand towards his ass.
A few more seconds of him bobbing his head back and forth, pretty red lips stretched around me, and then all of a sudden I feel him tense underneath me and he moans blissfully around my cock. The vibrations make me shudder, heat washing over my back up to the nape of my neck.
"That's right, baby... Fuck yourself for me. Work those fingers so you're nice and stretched for when I fuck you."
He whimpers at this and it makes my thighs quiver, vibrate almost.
"Yeah? Feels good?"
He groans again in what can only be a yes. He's starting to drool onto my balls. Oh fuck, he'd better hurry up and stretch himself because I really don't think I can wait much longer. I decide to talk to him a little more as he seems to be enjoying it so much.
"Your mouth feels so fucking good on my cock, Ichi.." I murmur.
"You're such a kinky little bitch, wanting to get filled in both ends.. Are you picturing that's my cock in your ass too? Or my fingers? Or maybe someone else, you little slut..."
He writhes underneath me, and I look over my shoulder to see him frantically jamming a third finger inside himself and curling it forward, desperately trying to reach his prostate, but he can't. His mouth leaves my cock with a wet pop.
"Renji... please.. it's not enough.. Fuck me... Fuck me so hard I can't breathe.."
How the hell am I supposed to say no to that?
I never thought I'd be glad to have Renji stop fucking my face but the time for that is done. I need him inside of me, need him so bad it hurts. He climbs off me and lies prostrate on top of me, the duvet covering both of us, and I move my knees apart to allow his access. He positions himself on top of me and I run my hands up and down his chest, stroking his tattoos and outlining his muscles. Then I feel his slick head breaching my entrance and I open my legs wider and shudder as he sheathes himself in me, all the way to the root. He looks down at me to see if I'm ok, and I wrap a leg around him and squeeze, urging him to start. I don't want time to adjust, I just want to feelit. He rocks his hips forward once and I feel like every muscle in my body is like taut string, ready to snap. I let out something that's halfway between a growl and a purr and cling to him.
"Ren... God..." I pant.
He grunts in response, his hair creating a sweaty curtain around our faces. He smells like cloves and cherry wood smoke, and he feels so... incredible... so big inside me, his fierce strength surrounding me.. I call out his name again, but it's barely intelligible amongst all my gasps and moans. Renji hisses as I dig my heels into his back, pushing him deeper inside of me. I claw my nails down his back and try to bring my hips up to meet his with each thrust, and he presses his forehead against my shoulder, his eyes screwed shut.
I buck involuntarily beneath him as he finally hits the spot, the spot I've tried so many times to reach without him but can never seen to, and my voice breaks and cracks as I howl in ecstasy.
"There... right there, like that.." I manage. He picks up the pace and I feel like I'm going to pass out.
He bites my collarbone but I barely feel it. I can feel myself nearing the edge, and he sounds like he's getting pretty close himself.
"Fuck... Ichi... You feel... aah!" He exclaims, gripping the material of the couch either side of my head.
"Come inside of me... Mmm! Haaa... Come in me.." I gasp, and slide my hand down between us to jerk myself off. I need to cum. I need to release.
Renji throws his head back with a shout and begins to quake above me, cursing and groaning, and places his big hand on top of mine, working up and down my aching shaft until finally I feel hot wetness inside of me and I cry out in a high-pitched whine, my head spinning. I feel my seed shooting out of me with dizzying force, smearing over my stomach and Renji's hand. Then my head falls back against the couch cushion, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I am warm inside and out.
I pull out of Ichigo and settle myself next to him, trying not to think about the sticky mess that is everywhere. Occupational hazard, I guess. A souvenir of an afternoon well spent. He slings an arm over my chest and rests his head on my shoulder and I can feel his sweet breath, ragged against my cheek. Getting him like this is still amazing to me. No attitude, no mouthing off, just sweet and docile and loving. I turn my head to him, feeling somewhat drowsy, and kiss him lazily. My body aches with post-coital intoxication, soothing chemicals pumping slowly through my gigai. Maybe it's not as uncomfortable as I first thought.
"I feel less cold now." He whispers against my lips.
I nod, feeling as if nothing else really needs to be said. For some reason hiding under a blanket this reminds me of when I was a child and I'd share my body heat with Rukia. I just wanted to keep her tiny frame warm, and now, in a different but oddly similar way, I want to do the same for Ichigo. He can't really protect himself the way he used to. He's fragile, just like she was. I feel words forming in my throat.
"I'll always warm you up. I promise."