Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Hidden Desires ❯ Chapter 1
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Hidden Desires
By: eternalsailorsolarwind AKA youkai_girl
Disclaimer: Bleach and all of its characters are owned by Tite Kubo, his Japanese publishers, and Viz. I only play with them for grins and giggles.
A/N: Written for bleach_contest's Week 74 prompt: Lust (go figure, right?). Ichigo is really a normal guy. Really. Hints of bisexuality and plenty of BL. Ichigo/Renji.
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Ichigo came with a low groan, the sound muffled by the white noise of the shower. His body trembled with his release, and he leaned against the somehow-still-cool tile of the wall to rest for a moment. He panted in the steamy air, a rueful chuckle slipping free, as the evidence of his activities swirled down the drain. No one suspected what he did in his twice-daily showers; everyone thought him completely uninterested in sex.
“If they only knew,” he murmured after a moment, reaching for the washcloth.
Ichigo was a perfectly normal fifteen-year-old guy - the ability to see ghosts and be a substitute Soul Reaper notwithstanding. He thought about sex. A lot. All the time, really. And since meeting Rukia, he suddenly had a whole lot of people to fantasize about.
Not that he was hot to trot like Keigo. Not by a long shot. But he knew what attracted him. Breasts weren't really his thing; Matsumoto and Inoue were attractive, but he preferred a woman with Rukia's body type. He'd caught enough glimpses of her while she was living in his closet to figure that out. Or maybe that lieutenant of Captain Kimono's…Whatshername…Book-and-Glasses.
His cock gave a twitch as his thoughts turned to a very different fukutaichou - the very masculine one with red hair and tattoos. Renji made Ichigo burn with a lust as deep and hot as the color of the other man's hair. Sometimes, he was sure that smoke poured from his ears just from watching the redhead stalk through the school in his tight uniform. Those gray slacks left little to Ichigo's imagination - just the way he liked it.
“Now if he just didn't see me as a kid,” muttered Ichigo, his expression disgruntled. He stepped out of the shower to dry off.
All of the shinigami knew he could fight. Many of them had learned that the hard way. But in every other respect, he was still young; practically a baby. The teasing he received from his friends when he blushed furiously at Matsumoto's frequent “wardrobe malfunctions” was proof of that. They thought his only desires were for battle and justice.
How wrong they were. Ichigo knew what he wanted; just not how to get it. Fighting Hollows and having Goat-Face for a father weren't exactly conducive to having a sex life.
Wrapping a white, fluffy towel around his waist, Ichigo headed to his bedroom to dress. No sooner had he dropped the towel to pull up his pants, than Renji appeared on his windowsill, looking disgruntled.
“You gotta feed me, Ichigo. Urahara's bein' stingy with the rations again.” He turned to look at Ichigo. “He says…wow.”
Owl-eyed at the redhead's unannounced appearance in his room, Ichigo felt his face flame as Renji's eyes were drawn to his reawakened erection. Something flared in those dark eyes, and Ichigo licked his lips in sudden anticipation.
“Ya' shoulda said somethin' sooner, Ichigo,” drawled Renji, sauntering across the room. His eyes flicked down again to Ichigo's aching hardness, and then back up. “Be glad to help with that.”
Finding his voice, Ichigo managed, “Yeah? I might like that.”
A pleased grin slid across Renji's face, and he leaned towards Ichigo. Suddenly eager, Ichigo moved to meet him halfway. He wanted to know if Renji tasted as red-hot as he looked.
*BEEP BEEP BEEP*
“Son of a …” Ichigo growled, hatefully slapping down the alarm. His body ached with a singing, unfulfilled tension. “I hate dreams like that.”
“Dreams like what,” asked a sleep-roughened voice next to him. The speaker slid a strong arm across Ichigo's abdomen. It tightened around him slightly; possessively.
Smiling a bit as he relaxed into the embrace, Ichigo replied, “Dreaming about that day you first caught me naked.”
Renji chuckled appreciatively, “That was a good day. I noticed it happened a lot after that, too.”
“Had a reason to, after that.”
“Ya' kept too much bottled up back then, Ichi. If I hadn't practically tripped over it, I'd never o' known you wanted me,” replied Renji, rolling to face his lover.
Nodding in agreement, Ichigo suddenly grinned, “How `bout I show you where my dream left off. Then you can `trip over it' again.”
“Not gonna refuse that…mmfghh,” said the redhead, his words swallowed by Ichigo's kiss.
Who needed dreams when they had the real thing?