Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Minutes to Midnight ❯ Breathe Slowly ( Chapter 9 )

Title: Breathe Slowly

Pairings: Gin/Ichigo

Rating: T

Warning: Boys kissing other boys, Language

Words: 1,942

Description: But Ichigo wasn't like Rangiku, not like her at all. He had to remind himself of this over and over.

 

 

A burst of reiatsu burned through his body and out through his fingers. It sizzled and crackled, soaring through the air only to veer off course and suddenly strike the wall far to the left of where he had originally aimed. Luckily, it fizzed out before it even landed, leaving a faint impression and nothing else.

 

Ichigo scowled and glared at the offending target on the other side of the room. It had to have been moving. His shoulder twitched, as it did every time he tried the simple byakurai kidoh. A subtle reminder of what Byakuya had used on him he supposed.

 

This was a lot fucking harder than it looked, no matter what anyone claimed about supposed power levels and incantations. And when the target failed to topple over by the force of his glower, Ichigo conceded defeat. He sucked at kidoh.

 

“I'm worse than Renji at this,” he muttered under his breath, dropping his hands back to his sides. “And I'm not worse than him at anything.”

 

Next to him, Gin remained unperturbed. “Well, Abarai-kun has had many decades to practice,” he reminded his hotheaded friend. “And he only had passing marks because Izuru helped him.”

 

Ichigo sighed, brushing a hand over his sweaty hair. “Maybe I need Kira to help me, too.”

 

“Aww,” Gin teasingly pouted. “Am I not good enough fer ya, Ichigo-kun?”

 

A blush stained Ichigo's cheeks before he could stop it. “It's fine,” he mumbled, ignoring the wash of heat to his face. “I'm just an idiot. I'm not a good student.”

 

The former captain chuckled. “Yer the best, Ichi-chan. Never heard of nobody progressin' through the Shinigami arts this fast before. Ya beat even Shirou-chan's record, and he's supposed ta be a genius.”

 

Inwardly, Ichigo smirked. Wouldn't Hitsugaya have loved to hear that? Right before Ichigo beat the crap out of him for daring to even think of harming Inoue.

 

That compliment bolstered him just a little, and Ichigo decided to try again. He furrowed his brow, focused on the target, and raised his hands. His mind ran over the incantation as he concentrated on the spell. Willing it to his fingers. Willing it to work, goddammit! Willing it to fucking hit the fucking target.

 

“Try a different spell,” Gin suggested gently. “Binding, perhaps.”

 

Ichigo groaned, idly cracking his neck. “Can't I just hack at it with my sword?” he asked, gesturing towards the target and telling himself he was absolutely not whining. “By the time I actually manage to successfully fire one of these stupid things, the damned Hollow would've already killed me. I have a perfectly good zanpakutou right here.”

 

Amused, Gin still shook his head. “Ya won't be fightin' Hollows, Ichigo-kun. Remember tha'. And all the Shinigami know yer weakness is kidoh. Best ta be prepared, ne?”

 

Knowing the older man was right, Ichigo grudgingly conceded. “Fine,” he surrendered and tiredly glanced at the target again, throwing the first binding spell he could think of. “Sai!”

 

The kidoh shot through the air with odd accuracy. And suddenly, the dummy keeled over, hands locked behind its back as it crashed to the floor.

 

Ichigo openly gaped, blinking in astonishment. “It... it worked.”

 

“Ya learned the trick to it!”

 

“I didn't do anything,” Ichigo protested, trying to ignore the warming in his cheeks. Urahara's words rang in his head, reminding him that they had been plaguing his attention for a good week now. “I wasn't even thinking about it!”

 

Gin grinned at him, rather goofily almost, as pride echoed in his tone. “That's the point. As powerful as ya are, ya don't even need the incantation, much less concentration.” The smile turned mischievous. “Now, we can practice on Arrancar.”

 

Ichigo shook his head, looking at the floor. “It might be a bit too early for that,” he said and then changed subjects. “But lemme try that byakurai one again. I think I can get it this time.”

 

“So ya can use it on Kuchiki-hime?”

 

He snorted. “Payback's a bitch,” he countered, leaving off the fact that Gin was right.

 

Ichigo looked at the target, raising his arms to try and aim. The words banked on his tongue. And just as he was about to begin the incantation, Gin interrupted him, causing the spell to fizzle before it even started.

 

“Wait,” the former captain inserted, head tilted thoughtfully. “That ain't gonna hit.”

 

He glanced over his shoulder at the man, frowning faintly. “How do you know that?” His eyes flickered back to the target and then to Gin again. “Looks fine to me.”

 

“Yer aim is off,” Gin corrected, sounding every bit the stern teacher he had been trying to be.

 

When Ichigo frowned again, pretty certain that Gin was mistaken, the silver-haired man stepped forward.

 

“Here, lemme show ya,” Gin said from right next to Ichigo.

 

He took up position not even half a foot away, mimicking Ichigo's exact pose. He leaned over slightly to match the younger man's height and raised an arm, leveling it with Ichigo's. He then gradually shifted the direction he pointed, explaining how to match the target with his depth perception and sense of distance.

 

Ichigo, however, had stopped listening the moment his friend stepped that close to him. It was an almost intimate position, Gin standing just behind his right shoulder. He was practically nestled against the older man, surrounded by the faintly woodsy scent that he had grown to associate with Gin.

 

Urahara's words and suggestions grew louder in his head, reminding him of the hours he had spent in his room, simply thinking. Of how close he and Gin had gotten since his arrival. How much they had in common; how easy it was to get along with the man. He thought of how much he prided himself on getting a true smile out of Gin and not the wide grin he showed the world.

 

Ichigo thought of how close they were. How he could feel the heat of the man's body at his back, his every sense positively aware of Gin's presence. If he had the courage, he could turn his head and close the distance between them with no trouble at all. In the space of less than a breath. He could press his lips against Gin's and finally learn what the man really tasted like, the flavor to match the scent.

 

He realized with sudden, startling clarity that he wanted to.

 

Without thinking, Ichigo lowered his hands and moved his head, all in the same motion. No longer worrying about kidoh or defeating Byakuya or mastering the byakurai. Confused by the movement, Gin turned towards him, explanation falling short.

 

Ichigo closed the distance before he could think twice about it, kissing on automatic. How could he not with Gin's lips right there, positioned just so? It was perfectly natural, perfectly right. As if there was nothing holding him back and there never had been.

 

He made the kiss brief, more than he wanted it to be. But he recognized that he had crossed some invisible line, overstepping the boundary between friendship and something more. He needed to explain why.

 

Ichigo pulled back, brown eyes hesitantly searching Gin's face. His friend was quiet, expression unreadable as he lowered his hand from where he had still been aiming at the target.

 

An uncertain feeling tugged in the younger man's gut. Perhaps Urahara had been wrong, that he had taken everything the complete wrong way.

 

Ichigo lowered his gaze to the side, absolutely mortified. “I'm sorry.”

 

His voice pierced the hesitant silence. And as if it were a trigger, Gin finally stirred.

 

“Don't be,” he said quietly.

 

Ichigo fidgeted, fingers of one hand anxiously tugging at his hakama before he suddenly blurted out, “I like you.” It came out a bit more forcefully than he had intended. “I like you, and I don't want that to be a problem between us.”

 

“It won't be,” Gin responded, his own thoughts skittering back and forth, pummeling into each other. Memories of the past and his own regrets were harsh reminders. But Ichigo wasn't like Rangiku, not like her at all. He had to remind himself of this over and over.

 

The teenager jerked his head into a vague nod, face burning brightly. “Oh, okay.” He hastily dropped his eyes again, blush deepening.

 

He thought now would be the best time to make a tactical retreat. Not run away but wisely put some distance between them and give himself time to regroup.

 

He started to move away. But then, Gin grabbed his robe at the waist, stopping him before he even managed one step. Ichigo shifted his weight back, not sure what to expect. The man was simply looking at him with those slitted eyes, his expression carefully blank and neutral. Ichigo didn't know what to think, what was being silently said.

 

'Stupid geta-boushi,' his mind ranted. 'Giving me bad advice. I'll beat him with that damn fan the next time I see him.'

 

He swallowed thickly. “If you're going to hit me, just do it already.”

 

But Gin didn't hit him. Instead, he leaned down very slowly, giving Ichigo all the time in the world to pull away if he so wanted. Ichigo simply stood there waiting, anticipation warring with the uncertainty heavy in his gut.

 

Gin pressed their lips together softly. Ichigo responded immediately, the disquiet flittering away with the realization that Gin was kissing him back. Which had to mean something, something that was a far better ending than the uncomfortable rift in their friendship he had been expecting to walk away with.

 

They paused, pulling apart only to shift and adjust position, before their lips crashed together again, meeting halfway. Ichigo's hand found its way to Gin's chest, palm against fabric, fingers barely brushing warm skin. He tilted his head upward, kiss deepening with a tentative touch of tongue. He felt Gin's fingers press into his back, unconsciously urging him closer. And he willingly moved, surrounded by the thin man's warmth.

 

It never went beyond the first tentative steps, gentle tasting and careful closeness, but it was enough. When they pulled apart, it wasn't far, their foreheads resting together.

 

“I like ya, too, Ichigo,” Gin finally said, effectively shattering the last of Ichigo's unease.

 

The younger man smiled, instantly relieved. They stood like that for several long moments, simply looking at each other. Until Ichigo squirmed, a hearty blush threatening to break out onto his cheeks.

 

“So... uh... what do we do now?”

 

Gin chuckled. “What we've been doin' all along,” he responded with amusement. “Though I suppose we can add a few new things,” he hinted suggestively.

 

Ichigo coughed to hide his embarrassment, praying that his face wasn't as crimson as it felt. “Right,” he agreed. “New things.”

 

“Yep!”

 

Their lips met again, no preamble this time. Ichigo responded all too willingly, fingers curling against Gin's pale skin. He thought he was going to like this, kissing Gin. What with the warmth that seemed to spread through his body.

 

Gin's tongue swiped playfully at his lips before he pulled away. “Back to kidoh?” he suggested.

 

The teenager nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

 

He paused when they didn't move and then darted forward for a quick peck, only to abruptly break away with an embarrassed cough. “Maybe that fire one Renji knows,” he added, going for nonchalance and failing miserably.

 

Gin grinned. “Shakkahou?”

 

“Yeah, that one.”

 

The hand at Ichigo's waist tightened before drawing back. “It's an easy one,” Gin responded teasingly. “Ya should get it on yer first try.”

 

Nodding, Ichigo took a breath, turned towards the target, and aimed.

 

*****