Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Seireitei Monogatari ❯ Blissfully Everafter ( Chapter 87 )

a/n: Big thanks to everyone who reads this and reviews. I know I may not respond to your comments, but I assure you, I enjoy every comment you leave behind. I do hope you continue to enjoy this!

 

Title: Blissfully Ever After

Pairings/Characters: Ichigo/Jyuushiro, Shunsui, Yoruichi and Urahara in spirit

Rating: T

Warning: Light Yaoi

Words: 1,320

Description: Sequel to Shotgun Wedding. The honeymoon is over, and now, reality sets in.

 

 

“Ichigo, this isn't going to work out.”

 

There was a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I know. I still love you though.”

 

The bed creaked slightly as Jyuushiro rolled over, tracing a finger over his husband's bare back and causing Ichigo to shiver. “He is my dear friend, but--”

 

“He can't live here for the rest of his life!” Ichigo inserted in an exasperated tone, telling himself he was absolutely not sulking.

 

“I entirely agree,” Jyuushiro responded with a nod. His finger trailed along Ichigo's spine, thoughts of what lay at the end of his path sparking in his mind. “Perhaps he needs a wife.”

 

Ichigo snorted, even as he pressed closer to his husband. “Or a mother? A babysitter? A baby? Something?” he suggested, fully prepared to roll over and kiss Jyuushiro.

 

Until footsteps echoed down the hall, sockless feet plick-placking against the wood. They watched as Shunsui flittered by their door, only glancing in once. The married couple breathed a sigh of relief, which was short-lived as the man paused and retracted a few steps.

 

He hovered in the doorway, a broad grin on his face and seemingly oblivious to the naked state of the other two. “You guys need to get up soon,” he announced. “I'm making waffles!”

 

And then, he was gone, padding towards the kitchen.

 

Ichigo groaned, flopping down against the bed and landing on his back. “I hope they're not sake-flavored this time.”

 

“He means well,” Jyuushiro began, but not even he could seem to dredge up a defense for his best friend anymore.

 

“I know that!” Ichigo responded with a faint huff. “And I like the man. Just... not in my house. All the fuckin' time. It's been two goddamned years! Two, Jyuu!”

 

Jyuushiro sighed. His husband had a point.

 

Beside him, Ichigo continued, waving a hand for emphasis. “I mean. He can live in a house next door. Just not here. With us. All the time. Not even Goat-Face is this bad.”

 

Jyuushiro banged his head against his pillow. “I know,” he groaned, wanting to be intimate with his husband but feeling the frustration of the situation. “He just won't leave.”

 

Silence fell as the married couple considered all that they had tried. Scaring him off with rampant copulation at the most oddest places and entirely in flagrante didn't phase Shunsui. Nor did repeated hints at wanting to be left alone. Nor did outright asking. Shunsui only seemed to think it meant for a few hours or even a day. He didn't want to accept that they meant entirely out of the house.

 

“So back to the wife idea,” Jyuushiro suggested, completely at his wit's end.

 

Ichigo pursed his lips in consideration. “But who can we dump him on? Nanao-san has made it pretty clear that she doesn't want him.”

 

“I believe her exact words were `Isn't being his vice-captain enough punishment?,'” Jyuushiro quoted.

 

The two sighed in tandem.

 

There was another moment of deep thought.

 

“Soifon would whip him into shape,” Jyuushiro suggested, thinking of the stern-faced captain who would be quite lovely if she just smiled.

 

Ichigo snorted. “Before or after she murdered him in his sleep?”

 

In the distance, the sound of loud and off-key singing echoed throughout the house. It was a rendition of a really bad love song that, unfortunately, they now knew all the words to thanks to Shunsui.

 

“If only Retsu-chan were still alive,” Jyuushiro commented wistfully. “Shun always listened to her.”

 

“Everyone listened to Unohana-san,” Ichigo corrected. “She was kindly scary.” A pause in which he remembered a particularly frightening encounter before he continued, “Besides, I doubt she'd take him either. And neither would Isane. I don't think her girlfriend would like that.”

 

Jyuushiro inched closer to his husband, wrapping an arm around Ichigo's waist and contemplated an early-morning romp. “No, I don't suppose she would.” He hummed in thought. “Well, there's Rangiku-san. Or Nemu-san. Or Yachiru...”

 

The two paused.

 

“She does like Shunsui,” Ichigo murmured, lifting a hand and casually setting it on his husband's waist, fingers drawing teasing circles.

 

Jyuushiro pressed a kiss to Ichigo's shoulder. “And she has managed to tame Kenpachi.”

 

“But would she be the wife or the mother?” Ichigo countered, stretching languorously against the bed and cupping his fingers around his husband's backside.

 

“Ah, yes. Good point. Perhaps someone else.”

 

Jyuushiro pondered, moving his mouth to Ichigo's rather tasty looking throat and nibbling. Ichigo purred beneath his touch, baring his neck for him. It was then that Jyuushiro recalled a faint, embarrassing memory which caused his cheeks to redden.

 

He coughed lightly, flicking his tongue against Ichigo's ear. “There is always Yoruichi-san.”

 

In the background, a very loud crash interrupted the sound of singing. The married couple winced simultaneously. The noise was quickly followed by the tinkle of broken glass.

 

Ichigo groaned. “That better not have been the tea set Yuzu gave me for my birthday last year.”

 

“Ooops!” Shunsui sang from the kitchen. “I'll buy you another one.”

 

And then, the singing continued. Though it didn't seem possible, it was even louder than before.

 

Burying his face in his husband's neck, Ichigo exhaled very loudly. “So Yoruichi-san,” he put in, willing to take anyone at this point. “They would make a good couple.”

 

“They would be a great match,” Jyuushiro agreed, hoping to soothe the younger man's ire with a teasing brush of his hand over a bare stomach.

 

“She already has an annoying roommate,” Ichigo added, perking noticeably. “What's one more?” His body began to stir, growing interested in this idea of an early morning romp that his lover was not-so-subtly suggesting to him.

 

Jyuushiro grinned and rolled on top of him, pressing their hips together. He leaned in for a scorching kiss as Ichigo's legs wrapped around his waist.

 

“Waffles!” Shunsui suddenly sang from their doorway, causing both to jump in surprise. “Come on, you lazy bums!”

 

And then, he was gone again.

 

Jyuushiro and Ichigo exchanged a glance, the moment lost. Even Ichigo knew when the Kurosaki stubbornness was defeated by a stronger foe. He grudgingly threw back the blankets and reached for his house yukata, Jyuushiro doing the same.

 

“I'll send her a Hell Butterfly after breakfast,” Ichigo stated wearily, the sound of some kind of bawdy, barroom song beginning to waft from the kitchen.

 

Thinking of his unsated libido, Jyuushiro couldn't have been any more relieved.

 

 

Two weeks later...

 

“What's this?”

 

Ichigo's finger slid under the flap, and he tore open the envelope. A small piece of paper was within. He tipped it over, the square dropping into his hand.

 

“It's a letter,” Jyuushiro said, peering over his shoulder, even as he pressed a kiss to his husband's neck. “I have one, too.”

 

Ichigo tilted his head to the side. “Really? What's yours say?”

 

“It's good news,” Jyuushiro answered, giving another kiss followed by a nuzzle. “Unfold yours, and I'll read mine.”

 

Jyuushiro cleared his throat. “Dearest Jyuu-chan, I'm having a great time in Karakura. Yoru-chan sends her love and thanks. We're very special friends. <3 From your bestest buddy, Shun.”

 

The white-haired captain chuckled to himself as he refolded the letter and stuck it up his sleeve. “What about yours?”

 

Beside him, Ichigo was smirking. “My dearest Kurosaki-kun,” Ichigo began aloud, barely controlling his laughter. “Take him back. I no longer want your castoffs. Need I remind you that child abandonment is a crime. Take. Him. Back. With utter contempt and loathing, Urahara Kisuke.”

 

The muffled sound next to Ichigo was Jyuushiro's attempt to conceal his own laughter. “Do we feel the least bit ashamed?” he asked rhetorically.

 

Ichigo balled the paper up and threw it on the floor behind him. “Not a chance.” He grabbed Jyuushiro by the waist and drew him in for a steamy kiss.

 

“So,” his husband panted after they drew apart. “Sex on the kitchen table?”

 

Ichigo smirked. “Meet you there.”

 

And they congratulated themselves on a job well done.

 

 

a/n: If anyone gets the reference to a certain animated movie by Dreamworks, let me know!