Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Drawn From a Hat: Bleach Style ❯ Never Say It Out Loud ( Chapter 5 )

Title: Never Say It Out Loud

Contest/Club: Drawn From a Hat

Fandom: Bleach

Pairing Number: 8

Pairing: Ikkaku/Hanatarou

AN: Uh…been sitting on this for about 3 days. What? I was tired and sick and my thumb was making it hard to type. That and I was also finishing off another Tales of a Broken Society story (Sado/Ichigo). Now, enjoy. Reviews are nice and make me nibble you. ^_^

 

He was kinda small, small enough really that Ikkaku could wrap his hands around the tiny waist and nearly touch his fingers together. Ikkaku couldn't complain about it though, seeing that it was what had drawn him to the other in the first place.

 

Hana had always been running around, trying hard to do what was needed. He cleaned, built and rebuilt andran errands when he wasn't helping in the training of new recruits for the 4th. He was also always learning new techniques or going out into the real world as some ones back up.

 

What was really funny was that after a while, Unohona had finally gotten tired of various 11th fighters coming to the 4th because they got a little to rough during a drunken brawl or one of the many fights and had assigned Hanatarou to be their personal healer. And to be rather truthful, Hanatarou was just as scary as his Taicho was. Though if the rumors about him being her son were true, they wouldn't be to surprised.

 

He had become rather famous for putting [i]Kenpachi[/i] down when he needed to heal properly. It was quite funny.

 

Even when fluttering around their personal home the tiny medic controlled everything that happened. Everyone who came over knew that your bottles, cups and saucers did not sit on the wooden table if it was going to sweat. Should it sweat on the table, you were fixing the ring it left.

 

They also knew that if they got drunk there, they would have to fend for themselves.

 

Not that Ikkaku minded. He got to either cuddle his tiny mate, not that he would tell anyone that anytime soon, or screw the small man into a mewling pile of goo. It was those times alone that they both enjoyed the most out of all of them.

 

Smoothing some of the dark hair down, Ikkaku settled back against their pillows, the scent of sex and sweat lingering as a soft wind breezed through their room. The feeling of come on his stomach and length was far from his mind. Rather he was focused on the small man pressed tight against him and the soft, even puffs of air against his collar bone.

 

Ikkaku would never admit to it, but he was happier at that moment then when he was fighting.

 

Not that he would admit it out loud.