Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Exceptional ❯ Exceptional ( Chapter 1 )

He screamed.

 

He's never felt so good in his entire life.

 

 

The first time Urahara Kisuke had confronted him, he felt confused, like a little school boy not known whether what he was being offered was the right thing or not.

 

Ishida Uryuu was NOT some innocent school boy.

 

The first time Urahara had laid eyes on him, he KNEW.

 

He knew that Ishida wasn't as decent as he looked to be.

Of course, there was also the sudden urge to do something ever so UN-decent to the teenager.

 

At first, he had settled with `unintentional' hand brushes, but soon it just wasn't enough.

The boy had responded positively if not just BLATANTLY telling Urahara to hurry things up if wanted `something'. Of course, the man with the hat was never really one to rush things unless it was called for.

 

And he supposed that this subtle attraction that went on between him and the Quincy didn't really CALL for ANYTHING except physical contact.

 

The day Ichigo had left with the rest of the band to battle the Bound; he had tackled the healing Quincy and ravaged those pretty pink lips like nobody's business, his hands slipped under the shirt of a very willing Ishida Uryuu, caressing bare skin (with added licking and biting of course).

 

Ishida had automatically sank to his knees to suck.him.off.

And hell be damned if he said it wasn't the best he'd felt in years.

The Quincy was skilled in just about everything when it came to sex, for heaven's sakes, the boy had lube in the side pocket of his bag pack.

Urahara was actually surprised when the boy had pushed him down on the floor, face flushed, lips bruised, glasses off and eyes glazed, and blatantly told him what he wanted.

 

“FUCK ME, Urahara-san.”

 

Urahara was slightly put-off by the teenager's behavior. Wasn't HE the one who was supposed to be in control here?

 

He complied none too grudgingly, naturally.

 

He pulled the boy down for yet another of those addictive kisses, grabbing the boy's hands, he pinned them above his head, his free hand reaching between the Quincy's invitingly spread legs, and he trailed the rim of his entrance teasingly (he lubed his fingers before attempting this of course - he'd probably get kicked in the balls by Ishida if he didn't). The action earned him a grunt from the impatient Quincy, and the crude whisper of `hurry the fuck up'. Urahara smirked, finally succumbing to that need of feeling ANY PART of his body in the completely submissive teenager he had now sprawled and waiting for him.

 

“Urahara-san...” The boy moaned, wriggling his hips to try and get himself impaled further, and the shinigami saw this as a sign to move on. He slid in another finger, now pulling both of the in and out of the boy, slowly, almost painfully so, scissoring them and searching for that little bundle of nerves that would have the boy melt into a puddle of mush-

 

“AAah!”

 

-FOUND it. He mercilessly pressed against that spot a few times, reveling in the erotic little noises Ishida produced.

 

“U-Urahara-SAN, PLEASE,” The boy was panting, his fists above his head were clenched so tight his knuckles were turning white.

 

“Please,” he pleaded again, looking up at the Shinigami with wanton need.

“I NEED to feel you in me.”

 

It took all of Kisuke's self-control not to come right there.

 

The blonde now removed his fingers, a slimy sound accompanied the action - (it somehow turned Ishida on even more-) Urahara positioned himself at the archer's entrance, slowly sheathing himself in the Quincy's tight heat.

The boy had squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering everytime Kisuke stopped to let him adjust.

When he was finally seated to the hilt. Kisuke stopped again, giving the boy time to adapt.

The boy had wriggled his hips again, before coughing out the word `move' with not too much grace.

 

Urahara Kisuke was in heaven.

 

The boy was tighter than he had expected, so tight to a point it was almost blissfully painful. He gladly complied with the teenager's request, rocking his hips, pulling out of the boy slowly before finally thrusting back inside, the sound of skin against skin was happily etching itself into his mind. Yet another comment from the Quincy psurred him to pick up his pace.

“Fuck, FASTER. DEEPER, PLEASE.”

 

And, NATURALLY, Urahara had fulfilled all of the requirements EXCEPTIONALLY.