Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Inebriate my senses ❯ Inebriate my senses ( Chapter 1 )

Warnings: This is yaoi (slash), meaning there will be some explicit contents between two males. Honestly, if you don't like stuff like that, what are you doing reading this story in the firs place?

Rating: NC17

Pairing: Renji/Ichigo

Word Count: Over 12,000! Can you believe it?! I know I can't!

Disclaimers: I most certainly do not own Bleach or any of its characters. If I did, the entire series would be a non-stop gay orgy! Yay! And I don't own `Scream too'. Not sure who does, really, since three people sing it. Timbaland's a good guess.

Author's Notes: I love listening to music while I write. For this fic I listened non-stop to Garbage's `Cherry Lips', Sarah Connor and tq's `Let's get back to bed, boy', and Timbaland's `Scream'. Now that last song is one hell of an aphrodisiac to the senses. Makes you wann either jump the first thing on two legs you see or write about other people jumping each other. I opted for the second. I added the lyrics at the end just to let you see what I mean. Depending on the reviews I get for this, I'll probably write a sequel. I already have the idea in my head, actually. One more thing. This story kind of got away from me. If I got too carried away with descriptions or useless detail, constructive criticism is always appreciated. Thanks and enjoy!

 

 

Inebriate my Senses

 

 

“So, we're all set, right?”

 

Rukia's excitement was palpable. The short girl was almost bouncing around (much like her beloved Chappy the Bunny), violet eyes dancing in excitement and dark hair snapping this way and that following her impatient fidgeting. Renji couldn't help but stare at her. This was Rukia, after all…He couldn't help it, it was his responsibility to say something.

 

“Gee, you really are easily amused, ain't ya?”

 

Nobody seemed to appreciate the heavy burden of his aforementioned responsibility though, because his only reward was an evil glare from Rukia and a relatively hard smack on the back of the head courtesy of Yumichika, who was standing to his right. Ikkaku and Hitsugaya snickered and smirked respectively at the redhead's misery.

 

“Honestly, such an ugly thing to say.” Yumichika sneered elegantly (Renji had to marvel at how the eccentric shinigami could pull that oxymoron off), before turning to the still glaring Rukia, his disapproving frown changing into a sparkly smile so fast some people had to blink “Of course, Rukia-chan. We're all set. We'll meet up at Kurosaki's and head off from there.”

 

Rukia beamed. Renji stared again. Honestly, it was disturbing to watch. Or at least to Renji it was. The others didn't seem to notice though, so he wisely decided to keep his mouth shut for the time being.

 

Suddenly, Hitsugaya's normally impassive face turned thoughtful and he asked a question Renji himself had wanted to ask.

 

“Where is Kurosaki anyway? If we will be gathering at his residence, shouldn't he be here to discuss this with us?”

 

Surprisingly, it was the usually silent Chad who answered the white-haired captain.

 

“I heard him say something about getting something he needed for tonight from the mall. He said he won't take long, though it doesn't really matter.”

 

Yumichika quirked his overly-decorated, pride and joy of an eyebrow in silent demand for further explanation.

 

“Ichigo will not be at his house for the gathering.” the tall teen spoke in his deep voice again “In fact, I believe he will not be joining us at all.”

 

Ikkaku's puzzled features mirrored Renji's.

 

“Why the hell not? I thought he'd be all for this kinda shit.”

 

Chad just shrugged, seemingly unperturbed at having all five present staring at him intently.

 

“It's Friday evening.” he murmured as if that explained everything.

 

“What's that gotta do with anythin'?” Renji spoke up again “We ain't got school tomorrow, it's the weekend, so what's the deal?”

 

Rukia suddenly snapped her fingers and gasped slightly.

 

“That's right!” she muttered under her breath “I completely forgot! Oh, and I was so looking forward to this!”

 

The short girl huffed disappointedly at the end, and Renji felt the last of his admittedly miniscule amount of patience evaporate under the warm summer sun.

 

“Ok, what the fuck are all of you on about?!” he snarled out, ready to start pulling at his own hair in his frustration “What's so special `bout Fridays and fucking weekends and why the hell ain't Ichigo comin'?!”

 

People were staring at him now, he realized after a moment. It was irritating. Why wasn't anyone looking at Rukia funny when she was imitating that damned rabbit of hers earlier? After a moment though, Chad cleared his throat and spoke up again, to everyone's silent amazement (since when had Chad started talking so much?).

 

“Ichigo never hangs out on Friday evenings. He works part-time and usually gets held up until late at night. The same goes for Saturdays.”

 

Rikia was nodding her head fervently

 

“Yeah, I'd forgotten. He's usually wiped out when he comes home and he crashes right away. Doesn't even take his clothes off.” the girl went on, seemingly completely oblivious to the fact that she shouldn't even be noticing whether or not Ichigo changed his clothes for the night.

 

Now they were looking at her. Renji rolled his eyes.

 

“Alright, fine.” he sighed out, letting go of his red hair “So, he's working. What exactly does he do anyway?”

 

He was curious. What would have the boy with enough stamina to rival lieutenant Yachiru on a sugar high exhausted enough to not even change before bed? The other shinigami in disguise looked just as interested. They were all interested in learning more about the boy that had swept across Soul Society, defeating lieutenants and captains left and right with nothing but bull-headed determination and will. All for the sake of a debt he'd felt he'd owed.

 

There was a moment of total silence. Chad had seemingly filled his daily quota of words to share, so the rest were looking at Rukia for answers. Said girl just blinked slowly a few times and finally opened her mouth.

 

“You know…” they leaned closer in breathless anticipation “…I don't really know.”

 

Ikkaku actually fell over, twitching slightly, while the others sighed in disappointment. Renji ran a frustrated hand over his face.

 

“How can ya not know?” he grumbled in exasperation “Ya live with the guy, for fuck's sake.”

 

Rukia was indignant. She was shooting him that evil glare again, he noticed. Renji was distantly struck with how much she looked like her brother at that moment.

 

“Well, excuse me.” She huffed, clearly irritated “I can't know every little detail about his life! What am I, his keeper?”

 

Even Hitsugaya gave her his version of a `Well, duh' look.

 

While the others continued arguing and guessing what Ichigo's mysterious occupation could be, Renji went into his own little world, contemplating what he'd learned. So, the substitute shinigami had a part-time job that required him to stay until late at night and left him completely wiped out.

 

`Well, fuck.' the redhead thought `This sure as hell puts a damper on any plans I could've made.'

 

They had been planning on doing something different this Friday. Hollow activity had been low these last few weeks, and they had all thought a night out on town would do them all good. Rukia had been especially excited about what the living called `clubbing'. Ikkaku had jumped at the mention of possible alcohol consumption, and Yumichika seemed unable to contain his narcissistic glee at the mere idea of flaunting his `great and unprecedented beauty' in the faces of the `poor and unfortunate ugly commoners'. Hitsugaya…Well, the captain of the tenth division had taken this as an opportunity to study the habits of modern living people and possibly upgrade Soul Society's sadly outdated data banks. Honestly, some of the clothes Renji and the other newly stationed shinigami had been forced to wear had made even Orihime look at them strangely.

 

They had gathered on the school rooftop during recess to finalize their plans for the coming evening. It had been decided that those present would tell Orihime and Ishida who hadn't been able to make it (Uruy, the poor love-blinded fool, had finally caved and tried some of his secret crush's home cooking; the end result-Orihime was in the nurse's office at this very moment, giving support to the poor quincy while he heaved his guts out). The company would all gather at the Kurosaki residence and make their way to a club Rangiku had mentioned. She was simply too distracting (read: a pair of blinding headlights) to attend high-school with the rest of them and was currently at Urahara's shop, bugging the hell out of the poor man.

 

But now it seemed that the person that had brought all of their decidedly motley crew together would not even be present. Renji cursed his luck, but he couldn't deny he was not a little curious and intrigued about the substitute shinigami's mystery-job.

 

Now, the redhead would be the first to admit to his obsession with all things Ichigo-related. Then again, he would also be the only one, although that was probably because nobody else knew (which was completely irrelevant in his opinion). It had started the first time the orange-haired teen had fought to stop him and Byakuya from taking Rukia to Soul Society, and had only gotten worse as events had unfolded.

 

He'd been fascinated by every little detail that made out the strange ryoka leader. From the unusual hair color (though he probably wasn't one to talk, what with his own blood-red main) to the truly amazing and complex personality the seemingly perpetually scowling boy possessed.

 

Others saw only the tough-ass attitude and constant frown that seemed to ward people off. Renji though knew better. His favorite pass-time activity being Ichigo-watching, the sixth division lieutenant was aware that there was much, much more to the younger man. He was conscious of the immense strength the youth had at his disposal. Hell, he'd met Zangetsu's business end more than once or twice. But he's also noted the softening of the brandy-colored eyes every time Ichigo spoke of or was near his sisters and father. He'd seen the orange-haired teen help a little girl get her cat down from a tree. He'd caught the substitute shinigami coming out of Urahara's shop with the Chappy the Bunny lunchbox Rukia had been drooling over earlier in the day. Renji knew; Ichigo was as human as they came.

 

And it all drew him to the boy. He couldn't seem to get enough of the teen's heady reiatsu and magnetic presence. Of the unconscious grace with which his lithe, tanned body moved at all times. Of the way his eyes would flash silver every time they sparred verbally or physically. What could he say, he was an adrenaline junkie. He grabbed greedily at every opportunity he had of getting Ichigo's attention focused on him alone, even if it was the negative kind.

 

After all the time he'd spent obsessing over his…well, obsession, it was normal he was curious and a bit irritated at this part-time job Chad and Rukia had mentioned.. He'd finally gathered his balls and decided to try making a move on Ichigo this Friday. This `clubbing' thing had sounded perfect. If he'd managed to get the orange-haired boy a bit tipsy, maybe the possibility of rejection wouldn't have had a painful knee in the crotch attached to it.

 

`Damn it, but I'm curious.' the redhead kept grumbling in his mind `What could he be doing?'

 

Now, when normal people talk in their heads, they don't expect to get an answer. Well, shinigami occupying artificially created bodies aren't exactly normal, so it didn't come as that big of a surprise to Renji to hear Zabimaru's deep rumble echo in his skull.

 

`Why don't you find out?'

 

`Zabumaru!' Renji jerked, slightly startled `What do you mean?'

 

`Well, everyone else will be out of your way.' the zanpaktou explained patiently, as if speaking to a particularly slow individual `Find a way to get out of this `clubbing' and follow your little crush to wherever it is he must go.'

 

`Yeah, I could do that!' the redhead crowed, before taking in the rest of his zanpaktou's words and spluttering angrily on the inside, blushing madly on the outside `And he ain't my `little crush'!'

 

`Yes Renji, of course.' the voice in his head taunted, amusement clear in the deep baritone `Whatever makes you happy.'

 

Any smart rebuttal the flabbergasted shinigami may have made was cut short when the bell signaling the beginning of the next class rang. The others around him stopped the argument that had somehow twisted from Ichigo's part-time job to the probability of a water resort catching fire and started packing up their belongings and heading inside the school building.

 

Renji decided to let Zabimaru think what he wanted for now and adamantly refused to acknowledge the snake-like laugh in his head. Now once again looking forward to the coming evening, the redhead ambled his way after Hitsugaya, vaguely wondering if Ishida had already been taken to the hospital for food-poisoning.

 

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When seven o'clock rolled around that evening, Renji found himself in front of the Kurosaki family clinic, knocking on the front door. Despite the fact that he probably wouldn't need it, he'd followed Yumichika's advice (the only one of their group he'd trust on anything even remotely fashion related) and ditched his usual obscenely colorful getup, opting instead for something more simple and dark.

 

The pair of low hanging black jeans he had on hugged his long legs like a glove and gave a more than lovely view of his firm ass. A tight dark red button up shirt covered his torso, ending about an inch above the waistline of the jeans. The sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, the tattoos snaking down his hands contrasting nicely, The top two buttons of his shirt were left undone, giving a glimpse of the prominent collarbones. A black jacket was casually slung over one shoulder. Renji's outfit was finished off with a pair of black combat boots, a studded, loose belt matching heavy footwear, and simple silver cross dangling on a black leather string from his muscled neck. The crimson locks were gathered in their usual high pony-tail and his favorite pair of wide sunglasses rested comfortably on his forehead.

 

Yumichika had squealed suspiciously like a rabid fan girl when he'd seen the end result of his `hard work as a favor to an ungrateful pig of a man', as he'd put it. Renji had been disturbed for the nth time that day.

 

The redhead was brought out of his thoughts by the front door being thrown widely open. Looking up from the doormat, the lieutenant of the sixth division couldn't stop the slight widening of his eyes.

 

“Rukia…” he breathed, too stunned to say anything else.

 

The small shinigami did look…different. The usual light colored outfit and sneakers were exchanged for a simple but no less beautiful deep purple, almost black dress. The loose folds of the skirt reached to about three inches above her knees, and the top was a high collared, sleeveless piece. The pale skin of Rukia's bare arms seemed to almost glow in the dim light seeping in from the hallway. The girl's feet were covered in black, high-heeled boots that molded snugly to her legs up to the middle of her shins.

 

After a few moments of Renji gawking and Rukia blatantly checking him out with a smirk on her face, the shorter shinigami broke the silence.

 

“Wow, Renji. You clean up pretty nice.” the girl gave a low whistle, then grabbed the gob smacked lieutenant's arm and dragged him inside, shutting the door behind them “Come on, enough spacing out now. The others are all here; we're only waiting for Orihime and Ishida. They called and said they'd released him from the hospital a few hours ago.”

 

Renji blinked out of his stupor and found that during her rant, Rukia had managed to drag him all the way to the living-room where the others were already gathered and waiting. Then he decided he couldn't let her get away with manhandling him and pulled his hand out of her hold, scowling menacingly down at her.

 

“Oi, what do you men `I clean up nicely'?” he glowered at the amused girl “I always look this good!”

 

Rukia just rolled her eyes at him and gave a very unladylike snort.

 

Whatever else the redhead might have said was cut short as something heavy and with a great deal of acceleration behind it attached itself to his side with an ecstatic shriek. Renji grunted as the air was rudely knocked out of his lungs and desperately tried to keep his balance.

 

“My greatest fashion achievement yet, you're here!” Yumichika batted his lashes up at him from where he was hanging off the taller male's arm.

 

Renji didn't answer. He was too busy taking in the light pink shirt and blinding amount of hair glitter the other had on. Finally he just gave a noncommittal grunt at looked at the chuckling Ikkaku with a raised brow. The message clearly said `Either get him off, or I chop him off.'

 

The bald man stepped forward and pried the protesting Yumichika from the unfortunate redhead's arm, still chuckling. Finally free, Renji took a moment to look the others over.

 

Hitsugaya was in a corner sulking (no surprise there), dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and silver form-fitting shirt with a wide, round collar and three quarter long sleeves. The sixth division lieutenant had the feeling that Rangiku was responsible for the silver buckle that went around the short captain's slim throat. In his humble opinion it looked hot. He'd bet that Hitsugaya loathed the thing. When the white-haired boy saw him looking his way, he glared with green eyes at the redhead.

 

Renji chuckled. In his mind, that is. He didn't fancy getting frostbite in uncomfortable places, after all.

 

In the other corner stood tall and silent Chad. The teen had a beige button up shirt with the top few buttons left open, revealing some of the firm muscles beneath. A brown leather (Renji quirked a brow at that) jacket was held loosely in one large hand, complimenting the pair of pants of the same color and material. Chad gave him a silent nod in acknowledgement.

 

Karin and Yuzu waved at him in greeting from their places on the couch where they were observing the strange group their big brother had taken to hanging around. The latter was much more enthusiastic in her welcome than the former. Renji generally thought Karin was rather like her brother in the people skills department.

 

Ikkaku was still holding a pouting Yumichika. The bald shinigami was wearing an all black outfit consisting of a short-sleeved, form-fitting T-shirt and loose jeans with a few silver chains hanging from the sides. `Blood is red, violets are blue, death is sweet, and so are you' was spelled out in red letters on the front of the bald man's shirt.

 

“Well, we really are all here.” Renji spoke after finally tearing his eyes away from the slightly demented logo on Ikkaku's chest “So what now? We just wait for Orihime and Ishida and head out?”

 

“Yeah.” Rukia answered “They should be here soon. I'm guessing in about five minutes. Orihime called earlier and said that they were on their way.”

 

Renji fidgeted a little, but finally asked what he really wanted to know.

 

“And Ichigo?” he began, trying to sound uninterested and slightly bored (he figured being around Byakuya so much would have enabled him to learn from the best) “Or is he already gone?”

 

Rukia seemed to see straight through his miserable attempt at nonchalance though, because she looked at him curiously.

 

“No, he's still here.” She answered nonetheless “He got a bit held back, but he should be leaving at any moment now. He's packing his stuff right now.”

 

Renji was even more curious now. What would Ichigo be needing to pack his things for? Just what kind of job was this?

 

He didn't get to say anything more though, because just then there was a knock on the front door. The next thing they all knew, a white-coated blur shot from the direction of the kitchen, a shrill yell preceding its progress.

 

“Oh how wonderful! More unexpected company! Coooooomiiiiiiiiing!” Issin screeched, on a direct collision course with the front door.

 

The man-missile was intercepted though by another, dark green and black blur that crashed directly into the eccentric man's back.

 

“Oh no ya don't!” Ichigo yelled, stomping on his whimpering father's spine one more time for good measure “You ain't giving anymore people heart-attacks! You wanna get us sued again, ya old fart?”

 

“Oh, my son! Your mother will be so proud!” the man moaned pitifully from beneath his oldest child's foot “So strong you have become to be able to attack me so successfully! Oh, the joy you have brought your old father!”

 

With a huff and ignoring the odd looks the group of shinigami in his living-room shot him (with the exception of Rukia; she'd grown used to this a long time ago), the teen made his way past the groaning lump of human he'd just bashed and calmly opened the front door himself.

 

While the orange-haired teen was welcoming Orihime and the still slightly green-looking Uryu, Renji appreciated the gorgeous picture his secret obsession made. In a pair of dark green jeans that left almost nothing to the imagination and matching jacket, Ichigo looked more than a little good. Beneath the jacket, the redhead spied a fitted, black wife-beater matching the comfortable looking black sneakers. The top of the orange mop of hair though was hidden under a dark green baseball cap that complimented the rest of the outfit. Renji was a little surprised. He'd never seen Ichigo wearing a hat before…

 

The red-haired shinigami tore his eyes away from the drool-worthy sight just in time. Ichigo was just showing Orihime and her companion in.

 

The quincy was dressed in a dark blue button up shirt and a pair of black slacks. He was holding his black jacket in his left hand, the right covering his most probably still aching stomach. Orihime looked stunning in her shimmering, dark bonze blouse and simple black, knee-length skirt and black velvet knee-high boots.

 

“Well, can we get moving now or what?” Ikkaku was just saying “I'm sick of staying still in one place!”

 

“Oh, I'm so sorry!” Orihime gasped lightly “Did we make you all wait? I'm so sorry!”

 

“Don't worry, beautiful princess!” Yumichika rushed at the distraught girl, accidentally digging his elbow in his bald companion's side roughly “You are just in time! Ignore this imbecile's unsightly words!”

 

Ichigo snorted lightly at the wheezing Ikkaku and hefted the black duffle-bag Renji just now noticed he was holding.

 

“Hey, Ichigo.” the redhead began “What's with the bag?”

 

The teen turned to him, quirking a brow.

 

“What, this?” he asked, lifting the bag higher “Just some equipment.”

 

“What for?” Renji asked immediately, eyeing the black bag even more curiously now.

 

“Work.” was Ichigo's short reply.

 

The boy obviously wasn't going to say anything else, because he turned away from the redhead, clearly dismissing the topic of conversation. Renji bit his lip hard in order to keep himself from shaking his obsession and demanding immediate answers. Instead, he tried to calm his twitching hands.

 

`Relax, idiot.' Zabimaru spoke in his head `You'll get your answers in time. Don't go doing something stupid now.'

 

`Yeah, Zabimaru, I guess you're right.' he grumbled `And I'm not an idiot, ya fleabag!!'

 

His only answer to that was an indignant snort.

 

Renji came back to the real world just in time to see everyone gathering their discarded jackets and preparing to head out. Ichigo himself was talking to his father (calmly, for once) by the front door, obviously ready to leave himself. The red-haired shinigami made sure to be the last one out the door, catching a few snippets of the conversation between father and son on his way out.

 

“…sure you don't stay too late out now, Ichigo.” Issin was saying, an unusually serious look on his face “I know you can take care of yourself, but you know how the streets get late at night.”

 

“Yeah, dad, I know.” was Ichigo's somewhat annoyed response “We have this conversation every time I go.”

 

Suddenly, Issin was back to his childish, eccentric self as he glomped his unsuspecting son.

 

“Ah, what is a father to do?” he wailed in his twitching son's ear “They grow up so fast!”

 

Ichigo finally pried his clingy father's arms from around his neck and shoved him away, scowling darkly. He grabbed his bag and followed Renji out the door, grumbling obscenities under his breath.

 

“Goodbye, my son!” Issin wailed from behind them “And make sure no big ugly man deflowers your innocent body!”

 

Ichigo cringed. Renji twitched. The others snickered around them.

 

With a final, world-weary sigh, Ichigo rubbed the bridge of his nose as if to ward off a headache. Fortunately for his father's health, Karin and Yuzu had already dragged him inside and firmly closed the door.

 

“Anyway, you guys have fun.” the orange-haired teen was saying “I'll be off myself.”

 

“Ya sure ya don't wanna come with us, Ichigo?” Ikkaku asked, upset for having to loose a potential drinking buddy.

 

Renji had to bite his lip in order to prevent the exact same question from slipping out of his mouth.

 

Ichigo just shook his head and turned in the opposite direction.

 

“Sorry, guys.” he threw over his shoulder “Got work to do.”

 

And with that he was off.

 

The others shrugged and went on their own way, talking animatedly amongst themselves. Renji trailed slowly behind them after one last lingering glance back at Ichigo's retreating back.

 

As soon as the teen rounded a corner, the redhead, unnoticed by anyone, detached himself from the rest of the group and silently slinked his way after the mystery he was bent on solving. Ichigo's reiatsu was all over the place, so Renji wasn't having any problems in following him. His own spiritual pressure was well hidden.

 

`So,' Zabimaru's deep voice sounded again `the hunt is on, eh?'

 

`Oh, yeah.'

 

Renji smirked. He was a man on a mission. A mission involving a certain orange-haired strawberry-boy. Woe as you, Ichigo.

 

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The sun had set not long ago and the streets of Karakura were flooded with the flickering light of the streetlamps. Renji had been following Ichigo for about twenty minutes now, and he was getting impatient. The teen was walking at a brisk pace that quickly took them from the suburban and residential areas to downtown, where the nightlife was just beginning to stir. Bright, neon lights replaced the yellowish glow from the streetlamps and more and more teens and young adults flooded the streets, ready for a night out on town.

 

The redheaded lieutenant had managed to keep his presence undetected so far, and had every intention of keeping it such. The last thing he needed was Ichigo confronting him in the middle of the street and yelling at him for being a stalker. Never mind that he was just that at the moment, but damn it his curiosity was eating at him something fierce!

 

`Concentrate, you buffoon!' Zabimaru's voice boomed in his head, bringing him out of the lovely daydream he was having while ogling Ichigo's jean clad ass `You can salivate over him all you want later! You almost let your reiatsu slip for a second there.'

 

`Alright, already, ya mangy fleabag!' Renji retorted `Scream my inner ear off, why don't ya!'

 

Zabimaru huffed in irritation.

 

`'Sides,' his master grumbled `it ain't my fault he's got such an awesome ass.'

 

`Yeah, you're right there.' came the slightly amused response.

 

Renji immediately bristled.

 

`But it's my awesome ass, ya hear, ya horny bastard?!'

 

`I know, I know. You're just so easy to tease!'

 

The chuckle that followed that statement did nothing for the red-haired shinigami's temper.

 

`A little possessive there, aren't you?' this time Zabimaru's voice was a bit more serious `You know I'm a part of your soul, I can't help but feel some kind of affection for the kid after all.'

 

Renji's anger deflated a little and he answered in a somewhat resigned tone of voice.

 

`Yeah, Zabimaru, I know, it's just…' at his zanpaktou's encouraging mental push, he continued `It's just that I don't exactly have any right to be possessive, not yet anyway. I bet Ichigo doesn't even see me as anything other than a friendly rival. What are the chances of…well, ya know what I mean.'

 

`Don't be getting stupid on me now!' Zabimaru growled angrily `What about all the plans you had for tonight? Where'd all that bravado from earlier disappear to? Don't tell me you'll chicken out at the last moment, ya wuss!'

 

`Shaddap!' Renji snapped in turn `That's not exactly the best pep talk I've heard, ya know! I'm nervous enough as it is, I don't need your crap on top of it all!'

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

`Renji, don't be so sure Ichigo won't answer positively to your advances.' Zabimaru finally spoke.

 

`Wha…You sure sound sure!' the redhead started a bit at the self-assured statement.

 

`Ichigo's a smart kid.' Zaimaru answered vaguely, the amusement from a few moments ago creeping back into his mental voice `He's not as oblivious about these matters as some people like to make him out to be.'

 

`The hell you on about now, ya crazy…'

 

Anything else he might have said was cut short as Zabimaru interrupted him impatiently.

 

`That doesn't matter now, you cretin. Look on ahead or you'll lose him!'

 

Deciding to bug Zabimaru for answers later, Renji focused back on his surroundings just in time to notice Ichigo's form darting behind a corner into a narrow alleyway. Quickening his steps, the lieutenant of the sixth division cursed under his breath as he followed his prey.

 

Reaching the entrance to the alley into which Ichigo had disappeared Renji leaned over cautiously and peered around the corner. There the orange-haired teen was, knocking sharply on an inconspicuous looking door. After a few moments, the door opened up a crack and bright light spilled into the dark alley, illuminating Ichigo's wiry form. Renji curiously watched as a tall, bald, heavily muscled man in a black suit wearing a pair of dark glasses stepped out.

 

“Oi, Ichigo!” the tall man's voice boomed in a friendly manner “Ya made it just in time, kid! Boss was wonderin' if ya didn't have another family emergency or somethin' tonight.”

 

The big man finished with a hearty laugh as loud as his voice, slapping Ichigo on the back hard enough to have the young man stumble forward a bit. The teen just grinned though and punched the man in the arm in retaliation.

 

“Hey, hey, Jugo!” Ichigo barked in mock-offence, rubbing at his abused back with one hand “No bruising the merchandise now! What'll the boss say ta that, eh?”

 

Renji's eyes got impossibly wide at that.

 

The big guy though, Jugo, just laughed even harder.

 

“Ah, kid, we all know ya don't bruise easily!”

 

“'Sides,” Ichigo waved the comment off “I said I'd definitely make it tonight. It's been pretty quiet these last few weeks. I ain't got no reason ta miss more work than I gotta. Plus, boss offered higher pay fro tonight. Apparently the place will be packed.”

 

“Yeah.” Jugo sighed heavily “Had ta brake a guy's jaw a couple a minutes ago. Moron wouldn't quit whinin' `bout lack of entertainment or somethin'!”

 

“Already?” in the dim light coming from the still open door, Renji saw Ichigo quirk a surprised brow.

 

“Yep. You got yourself a reputation real fast, kid. Crowds goin' wild there, waitin' for your number.”

 

“Geez.” The orange-haired teen mumbled, clearly embarrassed, and despite his growing bewilderment with the situation, Renji found it absolutely adorable “Don't think it's really `bout me, Jugo. I bet it's got more ta do with the free booze, really…”

 

Jugo boomed his hearty laugh again and ushered the shorter man inside, shaking his head all the while. When the door shut closed, Renji finally got his bearings back. Deciding that the direct approach would be the best way to handle things, the redhead quickly walked over to the door and knocked sharply, like he'd seen Ichigo do earlier.

 

A few moments passed, before Renji heard what sounded like locks being undone. The door swung open again, and Jugo looked down at the red-haired shinigami with his arms crossed over his massive chest. Renji wasn't that impressed. This guy had nothing on Kenpachi.

 

“Uh, yeah, hi there.” he started, wondering how exactly he would get passed the man without using violence “I'm a friend of Ichigo's You know, that guy you just let in. I wanted to surprise him, sorta, and…”

 

He really didn't know what else to say. `Hi, you're standing in the way of my possibly first make out session with that orange-haired chunk of man that you just spoke to, so could you please move?' didn't sound like the best thing to blurt out, even though it was the bare truth.

 

Apparently though, someone up there really liked him, because in the next moment Jugo raised a hairless brow at him and Renji could swear the man squinted at him curiously from behind his dark glasses.

 

“Oi, you wouldn't happen ta be `Renji', would ya?” the man asked suddenly.

 

Renji blinked a few times. How the hell…

 

“Uh…Y-yeah, yeah I am.” He finally stuttered, bewildered “How'd ya know?”

 

Jugi grinned widely, showing off a row of perfectly white teeth with the occasional flash of gold thrown in here and there.

 

“Ho ho, kid talks `bout ya almost every day. Red hair, weird-ass tattoos” Renji twitched slightly “and funky glasses. Knew you were him the moment I saw ya. Name's Jugo.”

 

The big man looked very pleased with himself. Despite the `weird-ass tattoos' comment, Rennji was pleased too. Ichigo talked about him. With Jugo. He bet Ichigo didn't talk about Ishida with Jugo! Hehehe…

 

With that additional boost to his confidence (and ego), Renji grinned back at the taller man.

 

“So, can ya let me in?” he asked again, now more sure of himself.

 

“Sure thing, kid.” Jugo answered “But you might wanna go through the front if ya really wanna surprise him. He'll be on in about five minutes, so ya better hurry.”

 

“The front?...” Renji repeated slightly confused.

 

Jugi closed the door behind him and motioned the redhead to follow.

 

“C'mon, kid, I'll take ya.”

 

Renji followed the taller man obediently out of the alleyway. After a few meters, the red-haired shinigami finally took notice of the fifty-meter line that stretched across the sidewalk. With a slightly open mouth, he took in the happily shouting and yelling crowd. All were teenagers or young adults, dressed in clothes similar to the ones he and the other shinigami were wearing that evening. `Clubbing clothes', Rangiku and Yumichika had called them. And they were all apparently waiting to get into the same place, if the commotion at the other end of the line was anything to go by.

 

Jugo led him passed the colorful mass and straight to the front of the line. Slightly dizzied by the shouting and protesting throng of people, Renji found himself in front of a man as big, if not bigger than his guide. The guy wasn't bald, but had the same sunglasses and dark suit as Jugo. He was standing next to some red, velvet ropes that stretched from a pair of wide open doors all the way till the end of the line.

 

“Hey, Aki.” Jugo greeted and motioned for Renji to step closer “This here Renji. Came ta surprise Ichigo. Let the kid in, okay?”

 

With a slightly amused glance in Renji's direction, Aki motioned for the redhead and his guide to enter.

 

“Welcome to “Nine inches and a half”, Renji-san.”

 

The man's voice was as deep as Jugo's though his overall demeanor seemed more reserved than the bald man's. The perplexed redhead nodded his thanks and belatedly took notice of the large sign over the doors spelling “Nine inches and a half” in bright violet neon letters.

 

The moment Renji stepped through the entrance he felt the vibrations of a fast, deep rhythm, the muted sound bouncing through the empty space of a short hallway leading to another set of doors, though those were closed. Following Jugo, the red-haired shinigami pushed the doors open and entered…chaos. There was really no better way to describe it.

 

There were lights everywhere. Blue, green, red, purple. Renji blinked a few times to clear his vision. He thought that the overall color scheme of the enormous room he'd entered was dark green and black, with the occasional golden splash here and there, but it was really hard to tell what with all the blinding lights and all. The room itself was huge and round, its shape vaguely resembling a giant bowl turned upside down. There were squishy, soft-looking armchairs and bean bags strewn over the perimeter, short round tables scattered in between them. The walls were covered with dark green velvet drapes outlined with gold. In the center of the strange room was what looked like a curved bar, raised slightly above the rest of the floor. And around that were…bodies. Tens of dozens of grinding, undulating, panting bodies. The air was heavy with a deep, bass, rhythm, the sound pumping through Renji's ears and mixing with the smell of alcohol and sweat and sex that seemed to permeate the atmosphere.

 

The redhead's senses were reeling. The music was loud and clear in his ears, tempting him to throw away everything else and just join the mass of people on the dance-floor. The smells and lights had him lightheaded and he felt himself become slightly dizzy from the overload. From Rangiku and Rukia's earlier descriptions, he guessed “Nine inches and a half” was a club, but he still had no idea what all this had to do with Ichigo and any performance the teen might have here.

 

And that thought helped bring him out of his temporary daze. Renji hurried after Jugo, who was already bravely venturing into the mass of grinding bodies below them. The crowd parted effortlessly before the huge man, making a clear path for the red-haired shinigami to follow.

 

“Oi, Jugo!” Renji bellowed after the bald man, his voice almost completely drowned out by the loud music “Oi! Wait up, will ya?!”

 

When he finally caught up to the taller man, Renji panted slightly and yelled out, hoping he would be heard.

 

“So where's Ichigo?”

 

“He should be up at any second now.” the bald man boomed out “I gotta be goin' though, Aki'll probably need help by now. You just stay near the bar, ya hear?”

 

And with that, Renji found himself alone in the mass of moving bodies. Looking around, the redhead noticed that the crowd was the thickest near the bar where Jugo had told him to stay. With a sigh and cursing Zabimaru for giving him stupid ideas, Renji started making his way through the throng of moving people.

 

He was about ten feet from his destination when suddenly the beat picked up and all the lights turned to the bar. The people around Renji screamed ecstatically and turned their eyes to the now brightly lit spot. With a hopeful expression, Renji followed their example. And he wasn't disappointed; there Ichigo was.

 

An intense spear of pure, unadulterated lust shot straight down to Renji's groin. He would have choked on the air he was breathing, had his throat not been so damn tight right then. Gods, what was Ichigo wearing? He had a pretty good idea now what had been in that duffle bag the teen had been carrying earlier. Every single perverted fantasy featuring a kinky Ichigo he'd had paled in comparison to the real thing.

 

The simple jeans and wife beater were gone, replaced by an all black getup that had Renji's blood boiling and singing in his veins. A black, sleeveless mesh shirt stretched tightly over the taut, lean torso, disappearing in a pair of black leatherpants. Several loose, studded belts were looped around the slim waist, drawing attention to the prominent hipbones the see-through shirt did nothing to conceal. The bare, tanned arms were covered by black fingerless gloves that stopped a few inches above the elbows. And (Renji really did choke here) was that a leather collar around Ichigo's throat?

 

The stunned and incredibly turned on redhead was brought out of his lust induced stupor when the crowd around him cheered again, the loud beat of the music pulsing around them almost drowned out in the ruckus. Renji watched, fascinated, as Ichigo threw his hands high in the air and bobbed his head in time with the rhythm of the song. The orange-haired teen howled along with the wild mass of people below him, his face devoid of its usual scowl. In its place was an expression of raw ecstasy. The bright orange hair was even spikier than usual, stray strands falling in the intense dark bronze eyes.

 

Before he knew it, Renji was screeching along with the rest of the rabid throng of people, letting himself be carried away in the heat of the moment. The maniacal grin that spread over Ichigo's features was contagious. The redhead was pretty sure that the teen hadn't noticed him yet, but that was alright. As long as he got to see more of that wickedly sinful twist of the full lips.

 

As the beat around them picked up its pace, Renji noticed Ichigo moving closer to the curved, C-shaped bar. It was only now that he took in the array of bottles in different shapes and colors that littered the counter. There were oranges, lemons and other fruit scattered among the glittering alcohol. The masterfully done decorations were all obviously pre-arranged. Without a hint of hesitation, Ichigo slid behind the bar, still bobbing his head and wearing that wide grin. The crowd resumed their grinding and panting, though almost everyone was facing the orange-haired teen now.

 

Suddenly, Ichigo snapped his head up and bellowed loud enough to carry over the pounding speakers.

 

“Alrigt, ya fucking punks! Ya ready for some free booze?!”

 

The crowd answered with a deafening roar of approval. The energy Ichigo was adding to the atmosphere was electrifying.

 

“Then let's start the weekend in the traditional “Nine inches and a half” way! Have a nice time getting' drunk off your feet, fuckers!”

 

And even before the second ecstatic holler had subsided, the orange-haired substitute shinigami grabbed for the nearest bottle. What followed in the next while had Renji thinking that Ikkaku was a complete amateur compared to Ichigo concerning matters of the alcoholic nature. The teen fished shakers and glasses out of nowhere, twirling the liquor filled bottles in his hands expertly. He blended brands Renji was pretty sure were illegal in some parts of Japan and added the weirdest shit in the mixtures. Every motion he made was graceful and fluid, obviously the end result of hours of practice. And it was all done in time with the beat of the current song, the motions of the glove-covered hands a dance in their own right.

 

Renji was completely mesmerized by the performance (he didn't think he could call it anything else), and he noticed with the corner of his eye that he wasn't the only one. People were slowing down their frantically moving bodies to watch the show.

 

`Is this what his job is?'

 

Even in his mind, his voice sounded astonished.

 

`Well,' came Zabimaru's equally surprised murmur `that is unexpected. He never mentioned exactly what it was, but I never would have thought…'

 

`What?' Renji asked, a bit distracted by the way Ichigo's hips swung in time with the beat `Who didn't tell ya what?'

 

`Nothin', nothin'. I'll tell ya later.'

 

Suddenly, the bright lights still pointed to the bar where Ichigo was glinted off something silver and decidedly sharp. The teen had just tossed an orange into the air, a sharp thrust of the lean hips accompanying the action. Before the fruit started its descend however, Ichigo twirled a large butcher-knife in his right hand and flicked his wrist upwards in one swift motion. The orange was sliced neatly in tow, the identical parts falling harmlessly on the counter amidst a shower of juice droplets. Not wasting any time or minding the ecstatic yells at the display, Ichigo grabbed one of the two halves and squeezed its contents in a blue colored mixture he'd been working on earlier.

 

By this time there were dozens of ready cocktails of all kinds of colors and shades scattered over the surface of the bar's counter. While Ichigo kept up his show, several waiters dressed in casual dark green tops and black jeans made their way through the crowd. Each of them grabbed a few of the ready blends and scattered among the mass of bodies on the floor, offering the end results of the orange-haired teen's work to the impatient crowd. Renji himself accepted a glass filled with a vicious-looking green liquid. Sniffing at it cautiously, he took a sip and almost groaned at the incredible explosion of flavors that burned down his throat. It tasted of mint, and green apples, and a number of alcoholic mixes he just couldn't identify.

 

Opening lids he hadn't even realized were lowered, Renji was caught in a pair of intense, slightly widened brandy colored eyes. Ichigo was staring straight at him even as his hands kept up their motions, seemingly on autopilot. They stayed locked in their stare-off, both equally unwilling to break the connection. There was heat in their eyes. A sort of primal emotion that heated the blood in their veins and had their hearts thudding in their ears. The world around them seemed to fade until only they remained. It was powerful, this pressure that had settled over them. Renji distantly realized he was holding his breath.

 

Suddenly, Ichigo blinked his eyes and the connection was broken. Whatever spell had had them under its thumb was lifted and Renji could once again breathe. Which he did. Deeply. Ichigo showed no visible signs that he had even seen him, but his reiautsu was spiking at irregular intervals, a kind of nervous tinge creeping into it.

 

Renji honesty didn't know how much time passed before it was over. The beat and light buzz from the drink he eventually finished had him slightly disoriented for a while. Time seemed to blur together in a constant stream of music and moving bodies and more cocktails than was probably healthy. Ichigo hadn't looked his way anymore after that first time when he had realized he was there and before Renji knew it, the orange-haired teen was bellowing the inebriated crowd a goodnight and leaving the bar.

 

The redhead wasn't nearly drunk enough to let his obsession go, though. He followed after the bright mop of orange hair, not hesitating to use his elbows to push a few slower people out of his way.

 

“Oi, Ichigo!” he hollered, hoping he'd be heard “Wait up, berry-head!”

 

That seemed to get Ichigo's attention, because the teen stopped in his tracks with a slight twitch. The substitute shinigami turned towards him, the familiar scowl already pressed on his face.

 

“Ya, dumb fuck!” he growled, hands on his hips “How many times do I have ta tell ya not ta call me that?!”

 

Renji just grinned unrepentantly as he came to stand before the younger man, the only sign of his not-quite sober state a slight stumble. Ichigo eyed him once though, and proclaimed with utter conviction.

 

“You're drunk.”

 

“Well, it ain't my fault ya make the best damn booze I've ever tasted, is it?” the redhead shot back, still grinning.

 

Ichigo just sighed resignedly and ran a weary hand over his face. Peering at him through his splayed fingers, the teen murmured more to himself than anyone else.

 

“Ya ain't gonna leave me alone now, are ya?”

 

“Nope!” Renji piped up happily anyway.

 

With another sigh, Ichigo grabbed his hand and led him (or more accurately dragged him) through the crowd.

 

“Well, it don't matter. This ain't the place for that kind of conversation. I'll take ya to the back room.”

 

Renji happily allowed himself to be led, trying hard not to break into goose bumps where Ichigo's uncovered fingers touched his bare arm.

 

They finally reached a nondescript door, almost invisible in the dim lighting and drapes that covered the surrounding walls. Ichigo pushed it open and dragged his companion into the room. Slamming the door shut behind him, the orange-haired teen whirled on the redhead. Renji was momentarily overwhelmed with the lack of noise, but gathered himself quickly and looked over his surroundings curiously.

 

The room wasn't very big. In the center though was a massive oak desk with a dark leather chair behind it. The polished wooden surface was littered with papers and documents with the occasional paper-weights thrown in. Besides that, the room was relatively empty, save for the bookshelf located in the opposite corner and the potted plant next to it. The color scheme was similar to the rest of the club; dark greens and black with golden highlights here and there.

 

Renji was brought out of his examination by Ichigo clearing his throat impatiently. Turning back to the teen, the redhead rubbed the back of his neck a bit awkwardly. Ichigo raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“So,” the younger man began “was there a reason you followed me here or were you just passing by?”

 

The sarcasm in his tone was obvious.

 

“Oh, ya know, was lookin' for a good drink, someplace t' kill some time…”

 

Ichigo was having none of it. He glowered at Renji even more fiercely.

 

“You followed me, ya moron!”

 

“Hey, I did not stalk ya, alright?” was Renji's heated response.

 

Ichigo's other brow rose to join the first.

 

“Oh?” he murmured softly “There's no way you could have just stumbled across “Nine inches and a half” of all places. You're alone, Renji, when you were supposed to be with the rest of the gang. And…I didn't say `stalked' me. I said `followed'.”

 

Renji really didn't know what to say to that. Of all the scenarios he'd played out in his head concerning him and Ichigo, this one hadn't been amongst them. He just returned the orange-haired teen's stare levelly and tried to clear his fuzzy thoughts as best he could. He didn't want to make more of a fool of himself than he already had.

 

After several long minutes of silence, Ichigo's shoulders slumped slightly, the tension draining out of them.

 

“If you were so curious about my job you could have asked, ya know.” he spoke, still keeping his voice soft and quiet “I would've told ya. It's not like it's a consciously kept secret. It's just that nobody's asked straight out.”

 

Renji blinked. He hadn't really thought about it that way. He cursed the sheepishly chuckling Zabimaru in his head. He should never have listened to his zanpaktou's demented idea in the first place! He knew Ichigo better than that; the teen wouldn't have lied to him. He didn't have a reason to, after all. The only thing that had kept them all from knowing the details of Ichigo's part-time job was the fact that the orange-haired shinigami was a private person by nature.

 

Before he could say anything though, Renji noticed Ichigo move closer to him. The younger man stepped forward, a flicker of what looked like uncertainty momentarily passing over his face. It vanished before the redhead could be sure it was there at all.

 

“Renji…” said man was rooted to his spot, watching as the other moved even closer to him “Is there something else you wanted to ask me, Renji? To tell me?”

 

By that time, Ichigo was standing right in front of the redhead. Renji could almost feel the heat that radiated off the slightly shorter male. Ichigo wasn't looking at him, and for that the older shinigami was grateful. He didn't know if he would be able to control himself if he looked Ichigo in the eyes at such close proximity.

 

“I…I'm not…” he stammered quietly, shuddering internally when those intense dark bronze eyes finally lifted to his own.

 

“It was Zabimaru's idea, alright?” Renji finally snapped, angry at said zanpaktou, at himself, at Ichigo, and at the world in general.

 

Ichigo's brow furrowed, clearly confused.

 

“Zabimaru? What's he got ta do with this shit?”

 

Renji turned his back to the other, huffing in irritation.

 

“Dumb fuck thought it'd be a great idea ta follow ya. Said some shit `bout you not bein' oblivious or somethin' or other.”

 

The redhead crossed his arms in from of his chest, waiting for Ichigo's reaction. He wasn't expecting the warm rush of air that ghosted across the exposed skin on his neck as a breathy chuckle sounded from behind him. Whirling around so fast he was surprised he didn't get whiplash, Renji was shocked to see how close Ichigo had gotten to him. Their faces were so close…

 

Renji swallowed deeply and took a cautious step back. Ichigo followed, an amused expression on his face and a light…was that a blush staining his cheeks?

 

“Ichigo?”

 

The redhead ventured, cringing on the inside at how husky voice had gotten.

 

“Well, he was right `bout that last one.” the orange-haired teen murmured, advancing on him again.

 

“W-what do ya mean?”

 

If Ichigo didn't stop right there…If he kept coming closer…Renji didn't know if he'd be able to control himself. Was it just his imagination or were Ichigo's hips swaying more than was decent?

 

“Tell me, Renji,” he was still coming closer, Renji noted “was one of the requirements for getting' in the sixth division stealth? Or maybe subtlety?”

 

They were in each other's faces again. Renji's fists were clenching so tightly his knuckles turned white.

 

“I don't…What do ya mean?”

 

He was losing himself, he knew it. His mind, already fuzzy because of the consumed alcohol, was drowning in those brandy colored eyes that were boring into his dark red ones again.

 

Ichigo didn't answer him. Instead, he closed the ridiculously small amount of space that had remained between them and pressed his lips to Renji's. The latter sucked in a sharp breath of air, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him.

 

But the lips under his own were warm and firm and soft in all the right places and tasted like, of all things, chocolate. And Ichigo's hand crept up his arm, leaving goose bumps in its wake, until it reached his head where it clutched at scarlet silk. And then a hot, wet, wriggly muscle was licking and pushing at his lips and Renji opened his mouth obediently.

 

It was heaven. It was perfect and sweet and pure bliss. It was hell. It was hot and sinful and wicked. It was everything Renji had imagined it would be and more. His own tongue came to life, responding to its partner's invitation and twining around the other slick muscle eagerly.

 

When it finally ended, reluctantly on both their parts, Renji's breath was coming out in fast, shallow pants. He was feeling both completely drunk and more clear-headed than he had been in a long while all at the same time. He licked his lips experimentally and found the taste of chocolate still lingering there. Opening eyes he hadn't even realized were closed, Renji saw that Ichigo was breathing just as hard, cheeks definitely flushed and lips moist and swollen. Then those red lips parted.

 

“Because you weren't being awfully subtle, Renji.”

 

It took a moment for Renji's muddled brain to figure out that the teen was answering his earlier question. And with that came the realization that yes, Ichigo had kissed him and yes, he'd obviously noticed that Renji saw him as more than a simple rival-friend. And that the feeling was more than mutual.

 

The time it had taken him to come to these conclusions though seemed to have dragged too long because Ichigo took a step back, doubt flickering briefly over his face for the first time this night.

 

With a low sound in the back of his throat, Renji lunged and grabbed the younger man, wasting no time in shoving his tongue back in that wet heat. Ichigo's taste exploded on his eager tongue, intoxicating his senses and drugging his mind in an entirely different way than the alcohol. The substitute shinigami's scent was all around him, teasing and exhilarating. Ichigo responded immediately, his eyes sliding shut as he poured the same amount of urgency and raw passion into their lip lock. Swinging his arms around the redhead's strong neck, Ichigo arched into the kiss, pressing himself closer to the taller body. Long fingers freed crimson hair free from its high pony tail and buried themselves in the silken mass that tumbled down the tattooed shoulders.

 

Renji growled his approval, the sound almost animalistic in its nature. He pressed back, moving them blindly until the back of Ichigo's ass bumped into the heavy oak desk. Too quickly for Renji's scrambled senses to follow, the orange-haired teen whirled them around and broke their kiss, panting harshly. The redhead didn't have time to complain though, because Ichigo immediately fastened his lips to his tattooed neck, biting and sucking and licking and driving him mad with need.

 

“Benn wantin'…ta do this…ahhhh…since forever!” Renji managed to gasp out between pants and moans.

 

“Me too…Renjiiiii…” Ichigo mumbled against his skin, lips hot and moist and breath searing his flesh.

 

Then they didn't really have the breath or coherency for anything other than harsh groans and deep moans.

 

Somewhere in between messy, passionate kisses and groping hands, Renji realized that Ichigo had managed to tear the front of his shirt open. He was pretty sure he was missing a few buttons. Yumichika was going to kill him but that didn't really matter when Ichigo was licking down his chest and lapping at his hardened nipples and ooohhhhh his tongue was doing something illegal to his flesh and that suction…

 

“Ichigooooooooo…” the redhead moaned out, hands fisted tightly in the bright orange hair as he arched his back sharply.

 

Ichigo didn't answer him, he was too busy suckling on Renji's nipples and fumbling with Renji's belt. When the studded monstrosity was finally undone, nimble fingers made quick work of the pants' button, the sound of the zipper coming down echoing in the empty room along with their pants. Renji's chest was heaving and he almost choked when Ichigo dropped to his knees and fastened his mouth to his crotch not even bothering with pants or boxers. The wet heat that was lapping at his straining cock through the thin layer of black cotton had the hands in the orange spikes tightening painfully. Renji gave a hoarse shout as Ichigo just moaned loudly and sucked him through his boxers, his tongue laving the thin fabric until it was wet with saliva and precome.

 

His toes were curling in his boots and he knew he wouldn't hold out much longer like this. With a vicious snarl, Renji pulled the younger man back to his feet and pulled him in for another passionate kiss. Ichigo pressed himself tightly against his body and the redhead used the opportunity to slip his knee between the lean thighs, He could tell the substitute shinigami was just as hard as him. He lifted his knee slightly and rubbed it teasingly against the bulge in the other's pants.

 

Ichigo broke the kiss and groaned raggedly, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. Grabbing the taller man's arms to steady himself, the teen buried his face in the crook between neck and shoulder.

 

“R-renji…” he panted out, breath ghosting across the tattooed skin “Renji, c'mon…Don't…”

 

Renji rubbed his knee harder against the other's cock, breathing heavily as Ichigo shuddered and rocked back on the teasing pressure.

 

“Renjiii!”

 

The desperate keen shot straight to his hard flesh.

 

“Y-yeah?” was his unsteady response.

 

Ichigo darted his tongue out to lick at the salty flesh against his lips and softly whispered in the shell of the redhead's ear.

 

“Fuck, Renji, get on with it already!”

 

That was all the lieutenant of the sixth division needed. Flipping them over again so that Ichigo was pinned against the desk, he spared a moment to swipe the polished wooden surface clean of clutter and shoved the writhing tanned body in his arms on it. Ichigo's head hit the hard surface with a dull thud and the teen cursed under his breath, but didn't stop Renji from tearing his mesh shirt to pieces. When the redhead started fumbling with his belts though, the orange-haired shinigami made a frustrated sound and swatted the clumsy appendages away.

 

“Do yours, I'll finish here!” he growled impatiently.

 

Renji froze for a moment and then cocked a tattooed brow while a taunting leer spread over his face at the double meaning of the sentence. Ichigo noticed and gave him an annoyed scowl.

 

“Not that, ya idiot!” he snapped, though his face did flush prettily.

 

Renji chuckled.

 

“Ya sure?” he leered some more “I would be satisfied with just watchin' the showm, ya know.”

 

The boot Ichigo had just managed to take off found the side of his head. Renji shut up and concentrated on getting rid of his own clothes, though the smirk never left his face. When he was done, he turned his eyes back to the desk and Ichigo, eager to resume their activities. He stopped short, however, and his mouth went dry at what he saw.

 

The younger man was spread out over the wooden surface, every delicious inch of smooth, tan skin gloriously naked. The dim lighting of the room bathed every dip and curve of the lean, muscled body in sharp contrasts; all shadowy patches on a bronze background. The black leather collar stood out in stark contrast. Ichigo's bright orange hair was falling messily in his half-lidded, desire hazed eyes, their color a swirling mixture of fiery shades. The long legs were bent at the knees, muscled thighs spread wide open in clear invitation, the erect member lying against the chiseled abdomen.

 

Renji's own cock twitched in anticipation.

 

Ichigo's husky, slightly breathless voice brought him out of his admiration.

 

“Ya gonna just stand there and watch, or are ya gonna come fuck me already?”

 

Renji was on the poor substitute shinigami in the blink of an eye. They both let out appreciative groans when their naked, heated flesh finally touched. Desire raced through them in shockwaves, leaving them dizzy with need and lust. They touched and explored and licked and kissed every bit of flesh available until they knew each others' bodies as well as their own. Renji was comfortably nestled in the cradle of Ichigo's spread legs, grinding his hard flesh against the other's, his loose hair tickling the tan chest and stomach. Their sweat-slicked bodies moved together and it was ecstasy for both of them, but it just wasn't enough. They needed more.

 

“Ichigo…” Renji rasped out in between heated kisses and nips “Ichigo…ya have…we need…hnnnn…lube…”

 

Ichigo drew Renji's earlobe in his mouth with his tongue in response. Finally though, the teen realized that the other was right and they would need lubrication if they were to go on. Pulling away for a second, he gasped out in the redhead's ear.

 

“Desk…hhaaaaahhhh…Left upper…mnnnnn…drawer…Renji!”

 

The red-haired shinigami reluctantly extricated himself from the younger man's embrace and moved across the wooden desk. With shaky hands, he started rummaging through the drawer Ichigo had indicated. He didn't question how the other knew there was lube in there or why it was even there in the first place. He was way too horny to think of such deep matters.

 

With a victorious shout, he snatched the tube of lotion he found and hurriedly grabbed the still panting Ichigo. He lifted the slightly startled teen off the desk's surface and pushed at his back gently. Getting the idea, Ichigo bent over without another word. He spread his legs again and wiggled his ass in the air, throwing a smoldering look over his shoulder. Renji gave him a lascivious smirk in return and hefted Ichigo's right leg high on the desk, spreading him wide open. Without preamble, the redhead slathered some of the lotion on his fingers and circled the puckered opening in a teasing motion.

 

Ichigo gave a low groan and turned his head back around to rest his cheek against the polished oak, the wooden desk feeling pleasantly cool against his over heated skin. He closed his eyes when the slicked finger pushed past the first ring of muscles, clenching his hands tightly at the stinging sensation. He didn't make a sound, though, opting for deep and steady breaths in order to calm himself and relax his body. He wasn't stupid; even though he'd never actually done this before, it didn't mean he was ignorant of the mechanics behind the act.

 

Renji leaned over the tanned, sweaty body, pushing a second finger in as he felt Ichigo relax around the first. The tight passage contracted at the intrusion, but other than a slightly pained moan, the orange-haired teen didn't protest as the digits began scissoring and pumping gently, preparing him. Renji licked the salty flesh of Ichigo's back as the younger man hissed and arched when a third finger pressed in. The redhead stilled, waiting patiently for the other to get used to the feeling. He was painfully hard himself, but he wasn't about to hurt his lover, no matter how much he just wanted in.

 

When Ichigo gave a low moan and started bucking back though, impaling the fingers in his ass deeper, Renji couldn't take it anymore. Tightening his hold on the teen's hip, he leaned further over the smooth back, watching as the muscles twitched and shuddered where his unbound hair brushed lightly. He whispered hoarsely.

 

“Ya ready?”

 

Ichigo just nodded frantically, loving the fingers fucking him but needing more. He got it a second later when Renji pulled his hand away from the firm ass and slathered the rest of the lotion on his throbbing member before pushing at the slicked hole. Ichigo's entire body went rigid as he threw his head back and howled in pain and pleasure. He was so full, so unbelievably stretched and full…It was incredible.

 

Renji stilled, marveling at the tight heat that was surrounding his hard flesh, Ichigo's passage gripping him tightly, the inner muscles fitting his engorged cock like a glove. It was better than all his fucking fantasies combined. He watched through hazy eyes as Ichigo folded his arms on the desk in front of him and buried his face in them, trying to regain his bearings.

 

“Fuck, Renji!” came the strained, slightly muffled groan “Just fuckin' move already!”

 

Too overwhelmed by sensations to answer, Renji nodded his head before remembering that Ichigo couldn't see him. He pulled out slowly, the delicious heat gripping him as if it never wanted to let go. Ichigo moaned loudly, the sound serving as a catalyst to the fiery redhead. With an animalistic snarl, Renji slammed back in, rocking the heavy desk with the strength of his thrust. Ichigo all but screamed his approval, bucking his hips back.

 

The pace they set was fast and brutal, slam after slam, thrust after thrust, buck after buck. The solid oak desk was shaking under the strain. Their hips moved in synch, Ichigo's tight, wet heat sliding over the sensitive skin of Renji's rock hard member. It was as if their bodies had known this dance for years. There was a moment when Renji was transfixed with the sight of his engorged cock going in and out of Ichigo's willing body, his dark red eyes never moving from the place where their flesh was connected. Shuddering, the redhead smoothed one palm over the tanned back, following the dip of the spine. There was another moment when Renji brushed over something in Ichigo that had the substitute shinigami arching violently, broken and incomprehensible curses tumbling out of the kiss-swollen lips.

 

“Fuck, Renji! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he chanted like a mantra “Do that again! Do it again!”

 

Renji obliged, angling his thrusts just so…

 

“Yes!” Ichigo howled “Yes, right there! Again! Fuck, harder! Harder, Renji!”

 

They were both close, they could feel it. Both of their bodies were ready, muscles tense and just waiting for the right moment. Renji grabbed Ichigo by the leather collar the teen still wore and hauled him up by it, bending his body and sealing their lips in a heated kiss. The orange-haired shinigami replied readily, returning the redhead's passion with his own. With his other hand, Renji reached for Ichigo's weeping member, curling his fingers around the stiff flesh. The younger man groaned wantonly in his mouth as he began straight away with rough, fast strokes timed perfectly with his hard thrusts.

 

It didn't take long for Ichigo's body to stiffen as the teen gave a relieved screech of completion. He came all over Renji's still pumping hand, splashing some of the white liquid over the oak desk. His hands scratched at the smooth wooden surface in search for something to hold on to, but found nothing as he shuddered and moaned, riding out the waves of his orgasm.

 

Renji wasn'r far behind. When Ichigo's muscles clamped down on him viciously, he gave a long, loud groan and pushed himself deeper in the wet heat, giving a few last half-hearted jerks of his hips as the teen milked him dry. He felt Ichigo shudder under him as he came deep into the willing body, his release draining the last of his strength out of him.

 

He collapsed on the sweaty back with a contented sigh, trying to catch his breath and feeling the body under him do the same. He heard the erratic beat of Ichigo's heart and smiled slightly when he realized it was in perfect synch with his own.

 

After a few more minutes, he reluctantly pulled out of the orange-haired teen's body, watching some of his semen leak out of the abused hole with a sort of male pride. He put Ichigo's right leg back down on the ground before gathering the exhausted substitute shinigami in his arms and promptly plopping himself on the floor, the younger man placed comfortably in his lap. He breathed in the smell of sex and sweat and chocolate and relished in the unique combination.

 

Looking down after a moment, Renji noticed Ichigo regarding him through sweaty orange bangs.

 

“What?” the redhead mumbled, burying his nose in the soft, messy hair.

 

“Why did we wait this long ta do this again?” the teen asked, leaning back against the tattooed chest and playing idly with a lock of scarlet hair.

 

Renji stilled his nuzzling (though he'd sooner die than admit he was nuzzling anything) and frowned thoughtfully.

 

“Ya know, I'm not really sure.”

 

More companionable silence followed before Ichigo spoke up again.

 

“This is all nice and shit, but I'm cold and sore and sticky in places I don't even wanna know about.”

 

Renji grunted in agreement and they both heaved themselves up again. They started looking around for their clothes, before the redheaded shinigami thought of something.

 

“By the way, how'd ya know there'd be lotion in that drawer?” he asked curiously.

 

Ichigo looked up from where he was inspecting his torn up mesh shirt with a frown.

 

“This is my dressin' room. Boss gave it ta me ta use while I'm here.” He explained.

 

Renji blinked and looked around again, his eyes falling on a familiar black duffle bag resting innocently in a corner.

 

“Oi, Renji!” Renji turned to look in Ichigo's direction.

 

The teen gave him a wicked grin from the doorway and shot him his best come-hither look. Renji's groin tightened again.

 

“Ya gonna stand there all night or are ya gonna show me some more of those weird ass tattoos?”

 

With a growl of half aggravation and half anticipation, Renji lunged for the orange haired shinigami. The redhead ran after his swiftly retreating, laughing lover, completely forgetting his earlier intentions of asking Zabimaru who he'd spoken to about Ichigo.

 

69696969696969696969696969696969696969696969696969696969696969696 969696969

 

The clear sky reflected in the windows of the strange, horizontal buildings, the bright sun glinting off the smooth glass. The wind was light and refreshing, carrying with it whispers of pleasure and ecstasy.

 

“Well, it was about damn time! Moron had me worryin' he'd never score with the kid!”

 

“Indeed. Storms charged with sexual tension can be…unpleasant.”

 

Maniacal cackling interrupted the conversation.

 

“King's a bottom!”

 

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Scream

 

I got a plan for you and I

Let's journey across the Venetian skies

Can I have some of your cookies?

Can I have some of your pie?

May I cut the first slice?

So won't you

 

Scream

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

Scream

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

Scream

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

Scream

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

 

Intoxicated with desire

And you're the designated driver

(Yeah)

I'm not a bit afraid

`Cause I'm a rider

(Yeah)

Ain't nothing wrong

With feeling right

(Yeah)

So won't you

 

Scream

(Scream)

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

Scream

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

Scream

(You make me scream)

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

Scream

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

 

I love it baby

Got me here doing things I don't ever do

(Never do)

You hold me down

So I'm here making sure things are up for you

(Get it?)

Like a getaway

When the lights turn off you turn on

I love your place

`Cause I can hear the echo when you make me

 

(If you're feeling good)

Scream

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

(Let me know)

Scream

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

(Scream)

Scream

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

(Scream)

Show me it feels good

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

 

In the car

At the party

Got his hands

On your body

Don't fight it

If you like it

In your room

On the rooftop

Feels good

Don't stop

Don't fight

(Don't you fight it)

If you like it

 

(Why don't you scream?)

Scream

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

(Scream)

Scream

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

Scream

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

(Sing it)

Scream

At the top of your lungs

If your body's feeling mine

 

If you love me girl

Why don't ya

If it feels good

Why don't ya

(Sing it)

If you love me girl

Why don't ya

 

`Cause when it feels good

(Don't)

Don't fight it

(I ain't gonna fight it)

If you like it

(Hah

Yeah)

Don't fight it

(Yeah)

If you like it

 

Don't ya like that?

Feels so good, don't it?

Grab my hand, baby

Let's take a walk with one of these

Just clear our minds

…

 

 

 

 

 

 

.