Un Accro

Thank you, everyone who reviewed! I did win NaNo last night, though it was a very close call! In celebration, I thought I'd go ahead and upload the second chapter already. From here on, I'm planning on updating this story once a week (I already have the first 11 chapters, so hopefully that will give me time to continue writing and get the rest of the chapters written) as long as I don't forget or my internet doesn't fail.

So, onto the Ichi/Ishi!

--The ill favored thing It may not be good, but it's the best I have to offer.--

The two teens stood with Urahara outside of a room at the back of the shop, all three of them looking a little apprehensive.

“After an hour, if things show no signs of improvement, Uryuu, then I’m going to have to call someone else,” Urahara explained, ushering the two of them inside before handing Ishida a little brown paper bag.

Uryuu nodded and wondered what that would mean for Ichigo if the Quincy wasn’t able to help him. The paper screen slid shut behind them with a soft snap.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want,” Ichigo said when he turned around to face Ishida, who was peering into the bag to find out its contents. Ichigo noticed how nervous the other teen looked.

“It’s fine, Kurosaki,” Ishida said, setting the bag down near the futon.

“Come on, you look like someone handed you a death sentence.” Ichigo couldn’t blame him. Based on his actions earlier in broad daylight where anyone could have happened onto them, he wasn’t surprised that Ishida seemed nervous now that they were guaranteed no interruptions.

Ishida took a deep breath and took a step towards Ichigo, raising one hand to place on the redhead’s chest. Ichigo felt his pulse accelerate and he could tell that whatever had been keeping his condition in check was rapidly deteriorating.

“I’m sorry, Ichigo. That’s not it at all. I would just rather the situation not be so…”

“Fucked?” Ichigo supplied helpfully.

“I was going to say ‘dire’, but ‘fucked’ works just as well,” Ishida agreed with a small smile.

“Uh-huh,” Ichigo said, transfixed with Ishida’s lips.

Uryuu flushed at the way Ichigo was staring at him, letting the taller teen pull him closer. “On second thought,” he said, watching with a strange sort of interest as Ichigo couldn’t tear his eyes away from the Quincy’s lips, “’fucked’ might be an—”

Uryuu moaned when Ichigo kissed him, crushing their lips together. “No more talking,” Ichigo said when Ishida broke the kiss to catch his breath. He didn’t let the Quincy get far though, and Uryuu could see that Ichigo’s pupils were blown before they started kissing again and both their eyes slid shut.

“How will we know if this works?” Ishida asked, tearing his mouth away from Ichigo’s while he still could, because he had to know. Ichigo was pressing kisses against his face, his big hands fisting in Uryuu’s dark hair to pull the other teen’s head back, once again giving him access to that smooth, pale neck.

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Ichigo replied, leaning forward to fix his lips against Uryuu’s neck. The Quincy moaned breathlessly, gasping as he felt Ichigo’s teeth graze his skin. He raised his hands and placed them on Ichigo’s shoulders, holding on as the taller teen pushed him to the floor.

Ichigo covered Ishida’s body with his own, moaning at how wonderful it felt, at how warm the Quincy was. He brought his mouth to Uryuu’s again, nipping and sucking at Ishida’s bottom lip, relishing the sharp gasps that earned him. One of Ishida’s hands left Ichigo’s shoulders to touch the side of his face and Ichigo turned his attention momentarily away from Ishida’s lips to press a kiss to the center of Uryuu’s palm. Ishida’s fingers twitched at the almost ticklish sensation and then Ichigo returned his focus to the Quincy’s mouth.

Ishida took his fingers away from Ichigo’s face for a moment to pull his glasses off and set them aside, hopefully out of harm’s way, before letting his hand slide through Ichigo’s hair. The Shinigami was now nibbling on his ear, his hot breath making Ishida squirm.

“S’hot,” Ichigo mumbled, removing his hands from Ishida and tugging on his black Shinigami uniform, but keeping his lips attached to Uryuu’s skin.

Ishida realized what Ichigo was trying to do and his felt his stomach flip-flop, but he gently pulled Ichigo’s shaking hands away from his clothes and started undressing the Shinigami himself.

Uryuu’s heart beat a little faster when Ichigo growled as his arms were momentarily trapped by his sleeves. Once they were free, Ichigo’s hands went straight to Ishida’s shirt, untucking it from his pants and sliding up underneath. Ishida whimpered at how cold Ichigo’s hands were. His fingers were like ice as they explored Uryuu’s soft skin, tickling his ribs and tweaking his nipples.

Ishida squirmed underneath Ichigo, feeling overwhelmingly hot. Even though Ichigo’s hands were cold, the rest of his skin was incredibly warm and his mouth on Ishida’s collarbone was scalding. Uryuu pulled his hands reluctantly away from Ichigo’s skin to start unbuttoning his top so that Ichigo could have better access, but the Shinigami’s patience seemed to be wearing a little thin so he helped things along by ripping Uryuu’s shirt open.

“K-Kurosaki!” Ishida protested as his buttons went popping every which way. “That was handma—”

“You can fix it later,” Ichigo growled, pushing Ishida back down when the Quincy tried to rise.

“I—damn it, Kurosaki, let me finish undressing before you ruin the rest of my outfit,” Uryuu said, but though it was phrased like a complaint, his voice sounded breathy and a little bit pleased.

Ichigo would have protested Ishida pulling away from him, but since Uryuu getting naked was what he was going for, he settled back and finished pulling off the rest of his own clothing. As soon as they were both fully naked, except Ishida, who still had his socks on, but damn it, Ichigo figured he had been patient enough and there were more important parts of Ishida’s anatomy than his feet that Ichigo wanted to closer examine.

Like the Quincy’s nipples. That seemed like a good place to start.

Given Ishida’s reaction, Ichigo thought he thought so, too. Uryuu was wiggling again, arching his back when Ichigo gently bit down on the nipple he was teasing, running his tongue over it afterwards to soothe it.

He started making his way down Ishida’s chest similarly, leaving brilliant red bite marks in his wake. Ishida’s squirming intensified when Ichigo dipped his tongue into the Quincy’s navel and Ichigo resisted a smile. So Uryuu was ticklish? The part of Ichigo’s brain that wasn’t overtaken by lust filed that bit of information away for later use.

Ishida’s hands were tangled in his hair, trying to tug Ichigo’s head further down, but Ichigo seemed perfectly content to take his time, his fingers rubbing soothing circles over Ishida’s hipbones.

Ichigo hummed contentedly and Ishida moaned at the feeling of air rushing over his sensitive skin. For someone who had seemed so desperate earlier, Ichigo was sure taking his sweet fucking time. Ishida hesitantly moved one of his hands from Ichigo’s unruly hair to the wound on his shoulder.

Ichigo bit down a little harder than necessary when Ishida’s questing fingers came in contact with what they were looking for, not so much out of pain, but in surprise. Ishida hissed and Ichigo kissed his stomach and apologetically moved his head lower, between Ishida’s thighs.

It took Uryuu a few times to successfully sit up; he wanted to further explore the feverish feeling skin of Ichigo’s shoulder, but the Shinigami was doing a fairly good job of distracting him by kissing the inside of one thigh, his spiky hair just brushing the underside of Ishida’s cock.

Ichigo meanwhile was nearly in heaven. He’d never thought skin could feel so smooth, and Ishida’s hesitant touches to his shoulder were driving him a little crazy. The pins and needles had come back momentarily while they had been undressing, but as soon as Ichigo had been able to get pressed up against all that sweet, pale skin, the stabbing pains had vanished. Now it seemed as though the wound was something of an erogenous zone, and if Ishida didn’t stop touching him like that, this wasn’t going to last as long as he would like.

Then again, Ichigo figured, he could be doing a lot more to take Ishida’s mind off of anything that didn’t involve thrashing around on the floor in pleasure. Pulling his lips away from Ishida’s milky thighs, Ichigo hesitantly extended his tongue and lapped at the moisture gathering at the tip of Ishida’s cock.

Ishida shouted and curled in on himself, both hands once again tangled in the orange hair nestled between his legs. Ishida whimpered and threw his head back when Ichigo started twirling his tongue around the head before taking the first few inches in his mouth, fingers gripping Ishida’s hips hard enough to bruise when the Quincy fell backwards and tried to thrust his hips upwards to get more of the gentle suction that Ichigo was now applying to his cock.

Ishida actually saw stars burst in front of his eyes when the back of his head hit the tatami and he distantly thought that moving this to the futon might be a good idea, but then Ichigo hummed around him and he couldn’t think about anything at all except for how sinfully good Ichigo’s mouth felt.

Craning his neck, Ishida saw the small shopping bag Urahara had left them with just within arm’s reach of him. Stretching, he ended up knocking the bag over, a slim bottle of oil rolling along the floor. Ishida grasped for it, his coordination slightly inhibited due to Ichigo’s affections, but his fingers eventually closed around the little tube and he brought it closer to his face so that he could identify exactly what it was.

Strawberry? Ishida would have smiled if at that moment he hadn’t felt the barest scrape of teeth along the underside of his cock, causing him to gasp instead. He still had to resist the urge to roll his eyes; it was like Urahara had this lube in stock on the off chance Ichigo might drop by for a quick fuck. Perv.

“The hell are you doing?” Ichigo demanded, noticing that although he still had Ishida wiggling and gasping, both of the Quincy’s hands had left his head.

Ishida looked down at Ichigo and moaned. Ichigo’s lips were slightly swollen and his pupils were still huge; he looked like he was planning on eating Ishida alive. Not that Uryuu would have minded.

“It seems that Urahara had the foresight to provide us with this,” Ishida said, trying to catch his breath now that Ichigo was no longer solely focused on him. He passed the lube down to Ichigo and the redhead glared at the little cartoon strawberries on the bottle before unscrewing the lid and pouring some of it out on his fingers. He set the bottle aside and set back to work, his mouth wrapping around Ishida’s cock again while his fingers went down to press at the Quincy’s hole.

“I-Ichigo! H... hang on just a—just a minute!”

“What?” Ichigo growled, pulling his mouth off of Ishida’s cock while pushing in his index finger up to the knuckle.

“O-ohhh. I’m going to come if you keep this up.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes and started working his finger in and out. Ishida’s muscles clenching around him wasn’t doing much to convince him to give the Quincy a break. “That’s sort of the idea.”

“I—ah—wanted to wait u-until—”

“Fine,” Ichigo said, impatiently. “Turn around then.”

“M-maybe the futon?”

Ichigo growled again, but followed Uryuu over to the futon, switching one finger to two on the way over, causing Ishida’s knees to buckle.

“We’re almost there, Kurosaki, can’t you—oh—have a little patience?”

“Fuck patience,” Ichigo snarled, but he waited until Ishida was on his hands and knees on the futon before pressing himself up against Uryuu’s back, his fingers scissoring inside of Ishida to loosen him up.

He poured more of the strawberry lube onto his fingers, dropping the bottle in his haste, some of the oil soaking into the futon beneath them, scenting the air. He worked three fingers into Ishida now, biting at the Quincy’s back as it arched. Ishida actually shrieked when Ichigo’s fingers found someplace inside of him, so Ichigo concentrated on rubbing that spot, removing his other hand from Ishida’s hip to coat his cock in the remaining oil while he had Uryuu distracted.

He hit Uryuu’s prostate once again before withdrawing his fingers entirely, and before Ishida even had time to moan from the loss, he had replaced them with his cock, ripping a wail right out of the Quincy’s throat.

Ishida buried his face in his arms, trying to keep his cries to himself as Ichigo thrust into him. He was starting to feel lightheaded, and he knew it couldn’t be due just to the slight pain that seemed to be evaporating quickly.

A second later he realized that it was Ichigo’s reiatsu pressing against him, rocking him in time to the Shinigami’s physical movements. He could feel his own being drained slightly, siphoned off to replace the harmful spirit particles infecting the wound on Ichigo’s shoulder.

As it was, it almost felt nice, throbbing around him like a heartbeat that made him gasp and shudder with each pass. When Ichigo reached down to wrap a hand around his cock, his arms, already feeling like jelly, gave out completely. Ichigo caught him and pulled him upright so that Ishida’s back was flush with the redhead’s chest and they were both kneeling. The change of angle caused Ichigo’s cock to brush against Uryuu’s prostate and the Quincy cried out, one hand flying to where one of Ichigo’s was pressed against his chest, holding him up, and the other to join the Shinigami’s other hand currently wrapped around his cock.

Uryuu could tell that the strain on his reiatsu was nearly becoming too much, but Ichigo was panting heavily into his ear and he was so, so close that he didn’t even care. He was surprised when Ichigo came first, the redhead curling around him with a groan, his fist tightening around Uryuu’s cock, but it wasn’t until he bit into Ishida’s shoulder sharply that the Quincy actually came—the unexpected pain dragging him over the edge after the other teen.

Ichigo lowered them both carefully down onto the futon, careful not to rest his full weight on Ishida, though he didn’t pull out just yet. With a jolt that pulled him out of his post-coital lethargy, Uryuu realized that Ichigo was still hard.

“Ishi—Uryuu,” Ichigo pleaded, placing open mouthed kisses on the bite he had bestowed just a few seconds earlier.

“Ichigo, your shoulder?”

“It’s not any better,” Ichigo said with a moan, sounding genuinely worried, though his hands had started running over Ishida’s skin as if of their own volition. “Uryuu—”

“I—I can’t, Ichigo. Urahara—he has to go get someone else.”

“Fuck,” Ichigo swore, his breath stirring the limp hairs on the back of Uryuu’s neck. “Don’t make me wait, Uryuu.”

“Ichigo—” For a long and terrifying moment, Ishida actually thought that Ichigo was going to keep going, was going to fuck him until his reiatsu drained right up—but then Ichigo was pulling away, hissing in pain. He rolled away from Ishida and screwed his eyes shut.

“Get out, Uryuu,” he gasped. “Please, before I do something I regret.”

Ishida nodded, even though he knew Ichigo couldn’t see it and limped towards his pants, picking them up off the floor. They were hopelessly wrinkled, as was his shirt, which he left on the floor, but he was going to have to worry about that later. Not giving Ichigo a chance to change his mind, Ishida left the room and slid the door shut behind him, still naked.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he found Urahara lurking in the hallway.

“You—have you been out here this whole time?” Ishida demanded, turning crimson and holding his pants in front of him to preserve what was left of his modesty.

“Of course not, Ishida-kun. Your hour was almost up, I just thought I’d come check on the two of you. How’s Kurosaki-kun doing?”

Uryuu didn’t buy the shopkeeper’s story for a minute, but his concern for Ichigo kept him from saying so. He shook his head. “He’s not any better, or not enough. If I’d have stayed any longer, he might have completely drained my reiatsu.”

“I thought something like that might happen,” Urahara said thoughtfully.

“You knew that I wouldn’t be able to help him?”

Urahara raised his hands in front of him trying to placate the Quincy, looking suspiciously innocent. “I wouldn’t say that I knew. It was just a hunch. Besides, you came out in one piece.”

“So you put both Ichigo and me in danger? Why would you—”

“You seemed so eager to help Ichigo out I just couldn’t tell you no,” Urahara said with a mischievous smile. Ishida stared at him absolutely dumbstruck, blushing so hard it extended down his neck and chest. “Well, if that’s all then, why don’t you get cleaned up in the bathroom down the hall and join me for tea? I’ll make sure Ichigo’s taken care of.”

Uryuu nodded, too embarrassed to argue and tried not to flee to the bathroom. Closing the door behind him he grimaced as he looked into the mirror. His chest and neck were peppered with bite marks and overall he looked dreadful. But it seemed that Urahara had filled the tub for him, so he left his pants on the sink and went to sit on the stool by the bath so he could clean up before getting a much needed soak.

Listening to the water cut on, Urahara slid open the door to the room Ichigo was currently occupying.

“Urahara-san,” Ichigo moaned, sounding grateful, when he caught sight of the blonde.

The shopkeeper hid a smile behind his fan. It seemed that the poison the hollow had infected him with had rid the teen of enough of his inhibitions that Ichigo didn’t even bother to stop jerking off as he approached.

“Well, Kurosaki-kun, I’m sorry to hear that things didn’t work out with Ishida.”

“Uh-huh,” Ichigo said, watching Urahara through slitted eyes.

“I thought, if you don’t have any objections, I might call one of the Vaizard over, since this is hollow related.”

“You know,” Ichigo said, sounding surprisingly rational, “you could always come give me a hand.”

Urahara fanned himself, resisting the urge to take Ichigo up on his offer. “There will be plenty of time for that later, Kurosaki-kun, but I have to make a quick call. The question is, will you be able to behave yourself while you’re up here?”

“You’re not going to leave me up here?” Ichigo asked, sitting up and looking worried. Urahara noticed that the teen still hadn’t stopped stroking his cock. Not that he minded or anything. In fact, he was rather enjoying the show.

“I’m afraid it’s necessary for just a little bit, Kurosaki-kun.”

Ichigo looked like he was about to get up, so Urahara quickly used a low level kidou spell to keep the young Vaizard in place. While Ichigo was swearing at him, the shopkeeper picked up Ishida’s crumpled shirt and located the buttons scattered across the floor. He also picked up Ichigo’s Shinigami uniform before leaving, closing the door on the teen’s rather creative death threats with a smile before heading into the kitchen to make a phone call.

--

Alright, next chapter is titled 'Two wrongs' and contains Shinji/Ichigo. Fans of Ichigo/Ishida shouldn't be disappointed, though, because there will be more of those two later.

Again, please let me know what you think. :)