Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Seireitei Monogatari ❯ Five Times Ukitake Tried to Get Laid (And the One Time He Succeeded) ( Chapter 70 )

Title: Five Times Ukitake Tried to Get Laid (And the One Time He Succeeded)

Characters: Ukitake Jyuushiro, OC, Aizen Sousuke, Hanatarou, Nanao, Yoruichi, Ichigo

Rating: T

Warning: Crack like woah. Disregards the 'Pendulum' chapters of the manga in terms of timeline (Was written before they came out)

Words: 1,944

Description: Dating someone shouldn't have to be this hard.

 

 

Ukitake Jyuushiro would like to consider himself a fine catch in the single's market. After all, he was a captain, a pretty nice guy, and rather good-looking. He had a steady occupation, and while he did have a tag along and annoying best friend, Shunsui could easily be distracted with liquor. Not a big deal at all.

 

Therefore, he thought he was a rather dateable, someone a person would like to take home to mother and proudly introduce.

 

So why did he have so much trouble getting dates? It baffled his mind.

 

He was certain that the trouble had started all those centuries ago when he made the mistake of finding himself attracted to one of the Kuchiki's heirs. She had been a beautiful woman, kind and gentle, and the third in line. He had been worried about marrying above his station or something like that, but that had been only a passing thought in the face of his desire. In fact, they might have even had a chance to work things out. Were it not for the accident, the storm, and the falling tree that had turned his potential love interest into the head of the Kuchiki clan.

 

At that point, all hope had been lost.

 

He had taken his defeat with all the pride he could muster, holding his head high as he walked away. But still, the memories always lingered. Of the pretty Kuchiki he never could have. That was only one of the many reasons he refused to look at Byakuya in a sexual manner. Like ever. After all, having crushed on his however-many-times great grandmother made things just a bit… squicky.

 

Nevertheless, being the general optimistic person that he was, Jyuushiro could not stay down for long. He had thought it would be in his best interest to give romance another try. One strike didn't necessarily mean he was doomed for life. And being the open-minded individual that he was, he didn't limit his choices either.

 

Aizen Sousuke had been his next logical step. The rumors that he dabbled, especially with a certain former twelfth division captain, were spread far and wide. And well, Ukitake could admit his own curiosity. Sousuke was handsome in his own way and very kind. His intelligence was a definite plus.

 

Jyuushiro had a plan, a method of attack. But every time he had thought about approaching, his illness had inconveniently flared up, and he had been struck by a coughing fit. By then, normally laid-back-Shunsui had morphed into worried-Shunsui, and poor Jyuushiro had lost his chance.

 

The white-haired man had eventually given up. Now though, he could only be glad that it hadn't worked out. Otherwise, he would certainly be a very heartbroken Shinigami. Perhaps Fate had been intervening.

 

After his utter failure with Sousuke, Jyuushiro hadn't been quite ready to give up on men just yet. He attempted an easier prey, one that had seemed simpler to catch.

 

Yamada Hanatarou was a sweet if quiet member of the fourth division, always dutiful. There was something about those hesitant eyes that was particularly gravitating. He was cute, in a puppy dog sort of way, the type of person Jyuushiro just wanted to cuddle.

 

And so, he had made the attempt.

 

Unfortunately, it had worked well only in theory.

 

His first and last effort at flirting had caused the poor seventh-seat to blaze a bright fiery crimson and then promptly faint. When he had awoken later, he had remembered nothing of the circumstances behind his fall. This might have had something to do with the rather loud sound his head had made when it struck the floor.

 

Sadly, Jyuushiro had been forced to erase all such thoughts of cuddling the adorable healer from his mind. He didn't believe Hanatarou would survive the encounter.

 

Three failures under his belt, Jyuushiro was not to be dismayed. With Shunsui's encouraging, he was determined to give it another try. He was a great catch, after all. Any person would give their left lung to be his husband or wife.

 

In any case, on Shunsui's suggestion, he had decided to give women another try. They were significantly easier to woo than men and much softer, much prettier.

 

He had set his sights on Ise Nanao.

 

Jyuushiro had plied her with gifts, her favorite books and her favorite teas. He had helped her with her paperwork and had even forced Shunsui into sobriety several times a week.

 

He had asked her out on a date. She had accepted. But it was so distinctly formal that he had the impression she thought it was merely a captain treating a subordinate, despite the fact that they were from separate divisions.

 

In the end, he had conceded defeat, a lonely and horny man.

 

It appeared that in trying so hard to ignore Shunsui's advances, she had never even noticed his. Perhaps Jyuushiro had been too subtle.

 

The last attempt he had made at getting a significant other had been by accident. It was known in the furthest reaches of his mind, filed in the darkest cabinet on the bottom shelf and in the very back, as “The Night of Mutual Mortification.” He and Shihouin Yoruichi had agreed to never speak of it again.

 

Ever.

 

Not even Shunsui knew about it, thank goodness. Otherwise, Jyuushiro knew he would have faced his teasing for the rest of his exceptionally long life.

 

It had started with sake to be honest.

 

He had been inebriated and desperate and had pulled a Shunsui, drunkenly making a suggestion that she bed him since he had heard “things.”

 

He was very, very lucky that she not only had a sense of humor but also that Soifon had never heard of this particular incident. He had the feeling that his ability to father children would have been removed if Soifon had.

 

Yoruichi had been as embarrassed by the situation as he. She had refused to even tease him about in all the other times they had seen each other following that night. Which, coming from the woman who amused herself at other's expenses, was a harsh blow.

 

She had been his last attempt.

 

For a century, Jyuushiro had resolved himself to the fact that he was doomed to be alone. Whether it was because he was successful or too handsome or had a leech by the name of Shunsui, he couldn't be certain. But clearly there was something that made him unacceptable to either sex. Enough so that Fate thought it necessary to ruin each and every attempt at procuring a sex life.

 

And then came Kurosaki Ichigo.

 

Admittedly, it seemed doomed from the start. The first time Jyuushiro had seen the boy, he'd nearly had heart attack and mental breakdown both. The resemblance was so uncanny that he had thought he was dreaming, then and there on that bridge. It was only afterwards, on closer examination and discussion with the boy, that he had recognized the differences.

 

Still, he found himself inexplicably attracted to the boy, loving his determination and strength, his loyalty to his friends. Jyuushiro was quite smitten, very much so. And he had only known Ichigo for a grand total of three years, give or take a day.

 

Yet, remembering his multiple failures, five to be exact, he knew better than to even try. It would be safer for his pride and sanity if he just admired from afar, secretly wanting but accepting of his destiny.

 

Fate had a funny way of being fickle, it seemed. While she had spurned his attempts at love and romance before, she was finally inclined to grant him a break now. Just when he was beginning to think he was going to die a hopeless, two thousand year old virgin, Fate tossed Ichigo at him.

 

Literally.

 

Apparently, the boy was fighting with Zaraki Kenpachi. Or to be more accurate, running away from a fight that Zaraki was trying to goad him into. Meanwhile, Jyuushiro was wistfully walking around Seireitei, admiring the cherry blossoms and trying to plot a way to take Ichigo to lunch without the boy being suspicious. That way he could at least admire longingly with no one the wiser.

 

He vaguely heard a crash. A thump. Cackled laughter.

 

And suddenly, there was an orange-black blur, and something slammed into him full force. Jyuushiro was thrown backwards by the attacking something, a whooshing grunt escaping his lips as he was tossed to the ground. A weight straddled him, feeling like a body and... was that Kurosaki Ichigo he recognized?

 

He was damn lucky the boy hadn't head-butted him by accident.

 

Big brown eyes blinked down at him. “Hey, Jyuushiro,” Ichigo said without making moves to get up.

 

That might have had something to do with the hands Jyuushiro had placed on his hips. Completely innocent hands! He was... um, steadying him. Right. Making sure he hadn't hurt himself.

 

And kami was he glad he had told the boy to call him by his given name.

 

“Ichi-- mpph!”

 

He was being kissed. By Ichigo. He was being kissed by Ichigo.

 

He, failure-of-a-flirter Jyuushiro, was being kissed. And rather well at that. With tongue! By Kurosaki Ichigo.

 

The thought skittered across his mind along with feelings of complete pleasure and goofy glee. He felt like a kid all over again. And then hands. Oh, those glorious hands. They were beginning to roam and touch and...

 

Mmmmmm.

 

Jyuushiro's mind completely short-circuited.

 

“Ichi-- woah! I'll come back later.”

 

There was a pause.

 

“Damn.” He imagined Kenpachi was cocking his head to the side. “You shoulda said somethin'. I wouldn't have kept chasin' ya had I known ya had other plans.”

 

He vaguely registered the feeling of Kenpachi departure, taking his massive surge of reiatsu with him. It didn't really matter though since Ichigo was doing these wonderful things with his tongue. Things that were making his head spin and his body heat all over. Yes, it felt quite good, like all those rumors said.

 

Jyuushiro felt a moan slip out of him, matched by the growl that rattled in Ichigo's chest. Hands, they were everywhere, slipping into his clothes. Ichigo was warm and soft and smelled so good. Like something darkly spicy, utterly delicious. Jyuushiro wanted to lick him everywhere.

 

But his back was starting to hurt. Like something was digging into his spine. Something like a rock. A rock on the ground.

 

Wait.

 

Rock. Ground. Street.

They were still in the street!

 

Jyuushiro broke away with a gasp, wildly looking around. To his utmost embarrassment, they were beginning to gather quite a crowd. Even more mortifying was that he could see Hanatarou, Nanao, and Yoruichi. All of them staring.

 

“Ummmm.”

 

Great going, Jyuushiro. Ever so eloquent.

 

He shifted his gaze to Ichigo, immediately entranced by the attractive flush of aroused red on Ichigo's face. His lips were reddened and swollen. He wanted to taste them again, and was just leaning in to do so when he remembered.

 

Right. The street!

 

He cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should take this somewhere a bit more private.”

 

There was a nod. “Good idea.” His voice sounded rough. Wanting. Hungry.

 

Jyuushiro's body tightened. In a second, he was on his feet, not quite sure how he moved from the ground to standing.

 

He clasped Ichigo's hands in his, fingers intertwining. Their eyes met. And then, they were off, flitting in quick bursts of shunpo to Jyuushiro's home.

 

They weren't seen for the next week. Not even when Shunsui arrived, stepping into the house without so much as a by-your-leave. He emerged two seconds later, wild-eyed.

 

When prompted, all he would say was, “They're busy.”

 

And rightly so.

 

*****