Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Boredom ❯ Chapter 1

Spoilers through episode 96 (non-canon Bount arc)

Boredom

Uryu gently plucked Rantao's feet from the floor and placed them onto the mattress where she'd collapsed a minute ago - half on the bed, half off. He drew the curtain closed, giving this strange woman a modicum of privacy. He still had so many questions to ask, his mind was swimming.

But now she was sleeping and it was just him and Ichigo and an interminable span of hours. Silence filled the room as the fire crackled between them.
"Half a day, huh?"
"Hm."
"Christ. I'm already bored." Ichigo fidgeted for something to do. He snatched the spoon out of the empty dinner bowl. Uryu busied himself with picking up their dishes and straightening up. Not enough to be intrusive, this wasn't his place after all, but enough to give his nervous energy an outlet. Ichigo was not so productive, worrying the spoon with his teeth, scraping off the tasty but drying morsels of stuck food.

After a few minutes, Uryu sat down again, unable to find anything else to do.
"Is that your zanpakuto?" He motioned to the black blade on the floor.
"Hm, Zangetsu." The auburn head nodded.
"Why does it look so much different than normal?" He had to vent his curiousity on someone rather than be eaten alive with pensive guilt. He'd let the Bounts kill Yoshino, kill countless innocents, he'd brought them here, to Soul Society. For now, without an outlet for his fury, his guts roiled with self-flagelation.
"Bankai - it focuses my reishi and changes the shape of my sword. I don't know how."
"And that's why your shihakusho looks different, too?"
"Yeah, I suppose... Geez, what's with the third degree?" Uryu fiddled with his fingers distractedly.
"Sorry."

More silent minutes passed and Ichigo rolled on his back staring at the ceiling in the underground hideout. Uryu wished for a needle and thread, there were some tears starting on his clothing. What he wouldn't give for something productive to busy his fingers.
"What about you? How did you get your power back? It seems different, somehow. I dunno..."
"It's a long story. I got a helping hand from a surprising ally." Ichigo's eyes left the ceiling.
"Hm? Who?"
"The lieutenant of the 12th division, Nemu."
"Seriously?" Ichigo sat up at this, curiosity spilling across his face. "Since when did you accept help from Shinigami? Doesn't that bruise your 'Quincy pride'?" A smirk split his face as he made air quotes with his fingers.
"The enemy of my enemy, right?" He pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Besides, I'm here helping you, aren't I?" He shot an angry glare at the substitute. "You need all the help you can get." Ichigo reached for Zangetsu, snatching the hilt and pointing the blade in his general direction. Flirting with menace, but not really threatening.
"I dare you to say that again," he spat.
"Or what?"
"Or we can take this outside and I can teach you a quick lesson in respecting your superiors. You can start by addressing me as sempai." Ichigo's flippant insult cut with unexpected barbs and before he knew it, Uryu found himself lashing out, fist impacting the side of Ichigo's face. "Asshole!" He tossed away his zanpakuto and launched himself at Uryu, boredom and peace forgotten for action and anger.

The two men struggled, fists flying some landing, feet twisting. Uryu managed to get one foot planted squarely in Ichigo's diaphragm, sending him coughing and wheezing across the room. He recovered and sprung back, grabbing the Quincy's slender wrists, twisting them behind his back and slamming him fiercely to the ground. One hand clamped his arms tight while the other dug into his hair, pushing his face into the ground.
"What did I say? You need to show some respect." Just a few months ago, Uryu would have held his ground against Ichigo, but by the time they'd broken into Soul Society to free Rukia, Ichigo had bulked up big time. He was able to totally overpower Uryu. There was no escaping, so the slender Quincy bided his time, waiting for Ichigo to grow tired of this game and relent. Soon enough, his opening came. He twisted his legs underneath him, launching both men back into the wall, his elbow quickly connecting with the other's ribcage, successfully surprising him enough to roll a small ball of electric blue reishi between his palms, stretching it out like taffy and holding it against Ichigo's throat.
"Is that what you want to do for the next eleven hours? Beat each other into a pulp?"
"You have any better ideas?" he spat through clenched teeth.

A terrible idea flicked through Uryu's head but he quickly dismissed it.
"What? You thought of something, didn't you? Tell me, you bastard!" Even pinned to the wall, Ichigo was cocky and defiant. And he'd seen something flash through Uryu's blue eyes. A delicous idea, something to keep them occupied without going insane.
"No. Never mind." He released him, the reishi dissolving into the air harmlessly.
"No! Tell me." He scooted after Uryu as the dark haired man tried desperately to escape. "Tell me, tell me, tell me!" He grabbed his wrists again, planting him to the spot, petulant and immature. The idea flicked through Uryu's eyes again and he licked his lips unconciously. Ichigo instantly knew what it was and followed the path of his tongue with avid eyes. That was his idea? No wonder he'd been reluctant to share it. But... it wouldn't be so bad, would it? And more importantly, it would be something to do.

Without moving his hands, Ichigo swooped in and captured his lips in a quick, warm kiss. Uryu had to blink once, twice, and then he was leaning in, straining against the two points where his hands were bound to the floor. A grin split Ichigo's lips as he taunted the other man, pulling just out of his reach. Uryu had to consciously stop himself from reaching with his lips towards the mocking face. It had felt good, exciting, forbidden. Despite himself, he wanted more. "You bastard." But he refused to let Ichigo get the upper hand.

The orange-blonde was far less patient. After fixing Uryu with a clever, dirty stare full of fiendish teasing, he closed the few inches, grasping at his top lip feverishly. Fueled in part by his deep seated hatred of Shinigami, the misery and guilt he'd created for himself over the past few days, Uryu returned the kiss, deepening it, opening his mouth to invite the other's curious tongue inside. God, he must be bored or maybe Rantao had drugged the food, or... His brain stopped fidgeting and just gave into the sensations, the warm persistent mouth invading his.

Ichigo's hands left their brusing grip on his wrists and moved north, grabbing his shoulders to pull him closer. His fingers danced across his collarbones to the fine lines of his neck, trailing lightly over his skin while his thumbs traced the outline of his sharp chin. Uryu found his hands winding into the soft spikes with a will of their own, digging his nails into his scalp. Ichigo pulled away to lap at Uryu's earlobe with his boiling tongue. The feeling was electric and drove right to his groin. He couldn't stop the choked moan that bolted from his mouth. The blonde smirked against his ear, refusing to quit his assault, sucking at the soft tender spot where it joined his jaw.

It was Uryu's turn to retailate, and he wound his fingers inside Ichigo's black shihakusho, trailing along the gauze that wound around his tight chest, exploring the edges of it up to his nipples, then back down to the edge of his hakama, stealing a breathy gasp from Ichigo. Their eyes locked. How far did the other intend to take this? It was a dare, a clash of wills and egos as much as it was to negate their boredom, stress. Uryu licked his lips teasingly before flattening his hand and penetrating the edge of the fabric. He palmed Ichigo's growing erection, squeezing gently. Ichigo struggled to keep his eyes open. They glossed over from pleasure and he gritted his teeth.

"You haven't won, yet." He dropped his hands from the porcelain chin, placing three of his fingers in his own mouth and slavering on them suggestively. The breath caught in Uryu's throat as he watched Ichigo mirror his own actions, unbuttoning his white pants with the opposite hand and slithering his slicked fingers down, against Uryu's skin, wrapping them around his now impossibly hard erection. His eyes begged to roll back in his head, but he kept them trained on his opponent, sucking a deep shivering breath between his flaring nostrils.

"Bastard," he whispered as he trailed his own fingers over Ichigo's shaft, circling his throbbing head with this thumb. Ichigo set a slow but demanding pace, stroking Uryu firmly, softly, adding a twist with his wrist, thumbing his leaking slit, doing everything to the other man that always drove himself crazy when he was lying awake in bed, unable to sleep. Uryu could barely maintain sanity and was soon stroking Ichigo feverishly, in time with his own rapidly beating heart. Ichigo pulled his lip between his teeth, worrying it while staring daggers of pleasure into the other man's eyes. The dirty slutty look he was giving him was too much on top of the silken heat of Ichigo's fingers and he was gasping, tumbling over the edge, BASE-jumping into oblivion.
Ichigo watched the stoic Quincy surrender into orgasm and he smirked triumphantly. He allowed his eyes to close and his defiance crumbled, pleasure piercing from those slender frantic fingers straight through his brain.

Uryu, predictably, was the first to recover. His eyes scoured Rantao's dwelling for a rag or a scrap of linen, something to clean the awful cooling mess from his pants. Ichigo was propped on his elbows, eyes unfocused, staring at the ceiling.
"Whassa matter, Ishida?" The other man grumbled, irritated.
"Looking for something... so we can clean up."
"Yeah. Cum is gross, isn't it?" He sat up, inhibitions lost in a fog of post-orgasmic bliss. He fixed Uryu with a lopsided, derranged grin, reached into his hakama and drew out one finger, a glistening glob of white trembling on his fingertip. He then proceeded to point said finger in Uryu's face. "I dare you."
"Ew, fuck, you've gotta be joking." Ichigo's grin just spread. It was such wicked fun getting a rise out of Ishida, whether they were cutting down Hollow, or sitting in class, or... jerking each other off.
"Nuh-uh. C'mon, you wuss. Where's that famous Quincy pride?" Uryu gritted his teeth, reaching into his own dirty pants, presenting a smear of cum to Ichigo's quickly fading smirk.
"Well? Where's your smartass comments now? I dare you." Ichigo's eyes flicked quickly from mirth to fear to disgust to intrigue and back to mirth. He sucked Uryu's slick digit between his lips in a lightning quick movement, swirling his tongue around his finger while the Quincy's mouth dropped open in shock. Ichigo, not losing a moment, poked his own soiled finger into the baffled opening, forcing Uryu to taste him.

"Bleh, gross gross! You are the most singulary disgusting person in the entire universe." He withdrew his finger quickly from Ichigo's smiling mouth, but the barbs were less pointed than before, his eyes slightly less cold.
"At least I'm never boring."