Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ The Complements ❯ The Outlet ( Chapter 8 )

 

The Outlet

 

He was so beautiful. Beautiful in the sense that a dark sky is beautiful. There is that moment when you stop and wonder if this is not just any storm but a storm that will break the entire sky open and send heaven flooding to earth.

 

That is what I was thinking when I watched him slide the garments off of his body. He was a god emerging from behind the sun. I reverently approached him from behind, fighting the urge to reach around and run my hands up his thighs.

 

Eventually he noticed and turned on me like a bird caught mid-flight.

 

“Bastard!” he stammered. His curses were such delightful things. “Don't go sneaking up on a guy when he's changing!” He pointed one rough and rude finger in my face. Oh, he was so close. I could almost feel his breath. As if possessed, I leaned in, running my lips along that finger, catching it around the joint. The scent of his body overtook me and my lips tightened, my hands fisting in my pockets. Everything in time, Uryuu. When he withdrew his finger, I made sure to touch the tip of my tongue to his skin as it slid by.

 

I was the coyest playmate that Kurosaki would ever get in bed with. Bed? No, surely not bed. That was too serious.

 

“Your shower is ready, Kurosaki-kun,” I said, pressing the words like a delightful knife at his throat.

 

He regarded me with a complex mixture of contempt, aggression and pleasure. Pleasure was definitely my element.

 

“Thanks, Ishida-kun,” he said stiffly, then walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

 

`No, that wasn't right,' I told myself. `Call me Uryuu, Kurosaki.'

 

I admit to being a hypocrite. But Ichigo was intended to be the submissive one, to undertake such volatile emotions such as devotion and attachment. I sank down into my work chair and stared at Dickenson.

 

Wallowing in disappointment, I began to think. What was the passion inside Ichigo that I had managed to tap only a few minutes before? His rage brought about the power of his soul slayer and that energy he honed into the sword to battle Hollows. Could this energy be channeled to other sources? Perhaps, if I passionately moved Ichigo, he would channel his spiritual energy into sex.

 

I froze in my chair as my mind derailed. Was that a feasible option? Maybe that is what Ichigo felt when he first came here and weakly tried to explain. His spiritual energy was restless and had found an outlet in me. If that was so, then I was going about this in the entirely wrong way.

 

It had been long enough. Pushing away from the desk, I walked toward the bathroom, not bothering to remove my clothes. I turned the doorknob soundlessly and closed it behind me, staring ahead at my white shower curtain. I could hear the sound of the water beating against Ichigo's body. At first I hesitated, doubt stiffening my limbs. `If I do all of this wrong,' I told myself, `then lets hope that he forgives me.'

 

I stepped forward and parted the shower curtain, stepping between Ichigo and the showerhead. The hot water beat against my lungs and at first I groped for words to say. Water flecked up on my glasses. I refused to take them off; I had to see his face.

 

“Ichigo,” I began faintly. “You said that you wanted more.”