Whatever It Takes
folder
Bleach › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
4,599
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Bleach › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
4,599
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Bleach (or it's characters) or make any profit off the writing of this fanfiction. All of the previously stated honors belong to Tite Kubo.
Part Four
a/n: After a terribly long wait, I now bring to you the final part of Whatever It Takes. Remember that it's NSFW and do enjoy!
Title: Whatever It Takes
Rating: NC-17
Words: 3208
Warning: fluff, OOCness, angst, threesome, boysmut
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Final Part -- Trinity
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Ichigo’s not sure how or when they made it to the bed. He doesn’t remember when his clothes came off or when all three of them became naked. It’s a blur of images and sensations to him. Hands sliding over his flesh, calloused and smooth, the smell of the both of them. Uryuu like freshly sharpened pencils and the crisp bite of a thunderstorm. Renji like a smoking hearth and something sweet, probably those candies he’s always chewing on that he no doubt pilfers from Urahara-san’s shop.
They’re on his bed now, something really too narrow for three bodies, especially considering Renji’s size, but somehow, they fit. Ichigo’s pressed between them, Uryuu in front, kissing him senseless.
Talented Quincy hands roam over Ichigo’s body, making goosebumps rise over his skin. Uryuu’s hands are smooth, unsurprising considering the care Uryuu takes with them, and they are nimble. Plucking over a nipple here, tracing delicately over Ichigo’s sensitive sides, dragging over the collarbone. Teasing touches that only serve to ramp Ichigo’s desires up higher.
Uryuu’s glasses have been set off to the side, out of harm’s way, and without them, he looks softer, younger. Ichigo would never say so aloud, but he’s always found the effect striking. Uryuu looks much less like his father and more like Uryuu without his glasses, if that even makes sense.
His kisses are hot and sharp, nipping across Ichigo’s lips and peppering bites along Ichigo’s stubbly jaw and chin. He tongues Ichigo’s Adam’s apple – a favorite spot of Uryuu’s to attack – before claiming Ichigo’s lips again. His skin all but glows in the early morning light. Of them all, Uryuu is the palest.
Renji is behind Ichigo, pressed against his back, skin hot like fire. His rigid length is pressed against the crest of Ichigo’s buttocks, leaking profusely, and Renji rolls his hips in a rhythm that Ichigo finds himself replicating, his own hips pushing forward into empty air. One arm is hooked around Ichigo’s abdomen, holding him in place, keeping him locked on his knees and pressed against Ichigo.
A hot mouth, teeth and tongue, have latched onto Ichigo’s shoulder, biting with just enough pressure to make him hot and hungry. Not enough to draw blood, but enough that Ichigo feels it, enough that he moans every time he feels Renji’s teeth and those sexy canines.
Another arm settles possessively on Ichigo’s hip, guiding the motion of their bodies, the way they rock back and forth on the bed. Renji’s mumbling something, the deep baritone of his voice like aural sex to Ichigo.
Ichigo still has one hand buried in crimson hair, a compulsion he can’t seem to fight. He loves the feel of Renji’s surprisingly soft hair sliding through his fingers, as much as he loves to bury his hand in Uryuu’s silky black hair. He’s lost the capability for speech, nothing more than low sounds of encouragement falling from his lips. Moans and groans and other noises that would be embarrassing in any other situation, but only serve to amplify the tension in the room, pushing their mutual sense of need and arousal through the roof.
“Uryuu…” Renji’s voice is thick with need, gravelly, hungry.
“Of course,” Uryuu answers as though there’s some silent communication between them, a silent connection that has somehow built itself in Ichigo’s half-day absence.
They planned this. The distant thought flickers through Ichigo’s head, and is gone the moment Uryuu’s lips and hands vanish from him. A brief chill attacks Ichigo’s front, but it’s chased away when Renji reaches up and forces Ichigo’s head to turn toward him, causing their lips to meet. This time around, the kiss is aggressive, more claiming than gentle persuasion.
Ichigo shudders, his cock harder than rock, seeping fluid at the tip. It’s the only place they haven’t touched him yet and he feels the need coiling in his gut like a spring winding tighter and tighter. He lowers his hand, thinking to take care of himself, but Uryuu returns and smacks his arm away as though he’s a child daring to steal a cookie from the cookie jar.
There’s a snap, like the sound of a bottle opening, and Ichigo peels his eyes open as he pulls away from Renji’s lips, watching as Uryuu pours a clear liquid into his palm. Uryuu smirks as Renji’s knee slides between Ichigo’s, forcing his legs apart. Ichigo doesn’t have it in him to protest, not when Uryuu approaches with that look in his eyes. One that bathes Ichigo in a wash of need and heat.
Uryuu’s blue eyes glitter in the morning light as he leans over, running his tongue over the peaked nub of Ichigo’s nipple before drawing it into his mouth. Teeth delicately applying pressure that’s absolutely perfect, just enough to drive him to the edge. Ichigo’s hips have a mind of their own, shoving forward into empty air, as Uryuu’s lube coated fingers trail slickly down Ichigo’s abdomen. They follow a thin line of hair downward, brushing briefly over Ichigo’s neglected arousal before continuing ever southward.
A sound, not unlike a whine, echoes in Ichigo’s throat.
Uryuu chuckles, like the bastard he is, and Renji echoes the sentiment. The both of them are bastards, teasing him like this.
Slick fingers tickle at Ichigo’s scrotum before gliding lower, two of them pressing to Ichigo’s puckered muscle. They tease the wrinkled flesh before pushing inside, making Ichigo gasp, clench, draw in a stuttered breath. It’s not pain, but need that makes him react so strongly.
“Goddamn, you’re hot like this,” Renji mutters in his ear, half-curse, half-exclamation of awe.
Renji’s growled comment makes Uryuu hum in agreement, looking past Ichigo almost as if he’s not there. “You’ll share, of course,” he says, tongue tracing a nonsense path across Ichigo’s chest, from one nipple to the other.
His fingers push deeper inside Ichigo, crooking just so, making Ichigo’s entire body break out in a sweat. He twitches, still trapped by Renji’s arm, and his other hand buries itself in Uryuu’s hair, trying to coax the Quincy’s mouth to head southward. Uryuu, however, is as stubborn as always and refuses to relent. His fingers twist and push, brushing occasionally against Ichigo’s prostate, making his hips dance under Uryuu’s ministrations.
“What’s mine is yours,” Renji says, and Ichigo can practically hear the rakish smile in Renji’s voice, knows that it’s curling Renji’s lips.
Ichigo sucks in a breath, hips twisting between the two. “Will you two stop your damned flirting and get to business already!” he demands and tells himself he’s not whining, not one bit.
“Someone sounds a little desperate,” Renji teases, still in that throaty, deep voice that makes Ichigo quiver with anticipation, and he thrusts against the small of Ichigo’s back, mimicking his future actions.
“I rather like you like this, Ichigo,” Uryuu adds, fingers maddening as they slip and twist, a smirk curling his lips. “Desperate and stripped of your defenses. Something for our eyes alone.” Heat banks in Uryuu’s blue eyes and Ichigo’s own gaze follows the way Uryuu drags his tongue over his lips.
Something that Ichigo refuses to name a plead echoes in the back of his throat, wordless.
“So it’s… about power,” Ichigo gasps as Uryuu’s fingers withdraw and the Quincy straightens, pressing their body flush together, his lips mere inches away. “About claiming what no one else has.”
“Something like that,” Renji mutters, his tongue flicking across the impression of teeth left in Ichigo’s shoulder as his hands move to Ichigo’s hips, large hands gripping forcefully.
Ichigo has an unholy obsession with Renji’s hands. He won’t mention it aloud, but the truth is there, brewing inside of him. They are dangerously skilled.
Renji groans and Ichigo belatedly realizes that Uryuu has reached around him, wrapping long and elegant fingers around Renji’s neglected arousal. Ichigo can feel the motion as the back of Uryuu’s hand occasionally brushes against Ichigo’s ass, tantalizing touches. And he watches, breathless as Uryuu leans past Ichigo, finding Renji’s mouth and claiming it for his own. They kiss, open-mouthed and tongues tangling as Ichigo stares, desire like a knife through the gut, heat lancing his body.
There’s a flush of need in Uryuu’s cheeks, heat against his usually cool demeanor, and Ichigo can’t resist dragging his hands over the planes of Uryuu’s body. Skin sweat-slick and smooth beneath his fingers, barely scarred.
And then Renji growls, a sound of need, and breaks off the kiss with Uryuu. His fingers clamp down on Ichigo’s hip, jerking Ichigo backward as Renji sinks down, his cock slipping from teasing at the crest of Ichigo’s buttocks to sliding down the cleft. There’s all of a moment where the head of Renji’s arousal rests at Ichigo’s entrance, teasing once again, before Renji pushes inside of him with a quickly drawn breath.
Ichigo gasps, caught on the cusp, and drags Uryuu in for a kiss, letting the Quincy swallow all those embarrassing noises. Renji makes a sound, cross between a gasp and a groan, as he slides home as naturally as though he belongs there. There’s discomfort, at first, but it bleeds into pleasant sensation. Renji doesn’t move at first, just pauses, nestled inside of Ichigo, and Ichigo can feel the heat of that amber stare as he watches Uryuu and Ichigo kiss noisily, lips and tongues smacking.
Ichigo drags Uryuu closer, until their bodies are flush, their groins pressed together. Uryuu’s cock grinds against his, a deliberate, needy rhythm that forces Ichigo’s own arousal higher and higher. The mattress creaks with pointed noise and Ichigo’s all kinds of relieved that his family is nowhere within hearing distance.
And then thoughts of embarrassing situations fade into the background as Renji begins to move, drawing his hips back slowly, pushing forward with an equally unhurried pace. Determined to drag out the sensation and drive Ichigo absolutely mad. His fingers flex on Ichigo’s hips, the Vizard’s breathing sharp and staggered, but Renji’s as stubborn as he is resolute, and he keeps that deliberate, slow pace.
Renji’s breathing right into Ichigo’s ear, hot and heavy, his tongue occasionally slipping out to coil around that ear. He’s murmuring nonsense words, mixed with filthy phrases that would sound stupid coming from anyone else. But when paired with Renji’s rough, sexy voice, they sound all the more erotic. Ichigo’s not the only one affected; Uryuu loves the sound of Renji’s “sex” voice just as much.
There’s a blur of sensation. Uryuu’s lips meshing with his, soft hands tracking down Ichigo’s sides, tracing nonsense patters. Renji’s cock working within him, making the heat in his belly twist and coil like a snake ready to strike. The heat of being pressed between their bodies, the sensation of reaitsu rising in the room, twisting together in various strands of power: Shinigami, Quincy, Vizard… or whatever the hell Ichigo wants to call himself. Sometimes, not even he is sure.
Renji’s whispering something in Ichigo’s ear, something about wanting to see his face. Ichigo gasps out some kind of agreement, mind lost somewhere between the feel of Uryuu’s cock pressed against his and Renji’s cock moving inside of him.
Ichigo is dragged from a happy place of sensation when Renji suddenly withdraws, pulling back, creating an absence of warmth behind Ichigo. He breaks away from the kiss with Uryuu to protest, but the Quincy is gone as well and the hands on his hips squeeze before tossing Ichigo around as though he weighs little more than a rag doll. Damn annoyingly large Shinigami and their damned brute strength.
His lower back hits the mattress, but he finds the rest of him cradled between two bodies. Renji in front now, Uryuu behind, his leaking arousal pressing against Ichigo’s back, sliding slickly across a sweat-soaked spine.
Renji’s hands fall on Ichigo’s knees, pushing them apart as he kneels between Ichigo’s legs, amber eyes dark with desire, crimson hair falling over his shoulders. He hooks Ichigo’s legs under the knee, pushes them back, forces Ichigo against Uryuu behind him, who doesn’t seem to mind as he takes the brunt of Ichigo’s weight.
He’s trapped between them. Funny how Ichigo doesn’t seem to mind. How he just licks his lips, lets himself drown in the desire in Renji’s eyes, and gets a handful of red hair. Pulls Renji closer for a deep kiss that stretches the limits of his flexibility. Ichigo arches his body, pushing back against Uryuu, thrusting up against Renji, urging him to get with the program. Ichigo’s so hard he hurts, and judging from Uryuu’s quick breathing, the Quincy is in no better state. Renji’s stubbornly holding onto his own stamina but why bother? There’ll be more times. Lots and lots of them.
Renji looks past Ichigo, catching eyes with Uryuu. And once again, Ichigo gets the sense that they are communicating silently, making plans without him. Renji smirks, making the need knotting in Ichigo’s belly spurt precome all over his own belly.
They move, in tandem but opposite patterns. Renji pushes into him and when he pulls back, Uryuu rolls his hips forward, until there’s not a moment when Ichigo doesn’t feel either of them pressed against him. His hips twist and churn between them, and Ichigo can only identify the hands roaming over his body by feel alone. Uryuu’s smoother, slim fingers pinching at his nipples as his other hand loosely fists Ichigo’s desperate arousal. One of Renij’s hands braces against the bed, the other firmly clamped around Ichigo’s knee, keeping him open, easy for plundering.
He’s trapped between them, a twisting, moaning, desperate frenzy of movement and Ichigo can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.
Ichigo’s already on edge; they’ve both done a good job of teasing him. His skin’s on fire, covered in sweat, and he all but shouts when Uryuu tightens his grip, starts stroking him with real intent. Ichigo twists and writhes between them, one hand clamped onto Uryuu’s arm and the other tangled in Renji’s hair – longer than it used to be, easier to reach, to pull.
Uryuu’s tongue strokes over his throat, neck, collarbone, tracing the marks left behind by Renji’s teeth and there’s something supremely erotic about that little act. Ichigo feels he’s been claimed twice over, possessed and owned without a chance for doubt.
Sensation blurs, one into the next, and when Ichigo surrenders, his release washes over him in steadying waves. He spills over Uryuu’s hands, releases an embarrassing chorus of noises, and clenches down on Renji, causing the Shinigami to moan of his own accord. Pleasure sparks sharp and heavy, throbbing through his entire body. He’s certain he’s left a bruise on Uryuu’s arm from the force of his grip.
Renji’s pace has increased, faster, more desperate. Ichigo’s so sensitive in the aftermath of his own release that the feel of Renji inside him is almost too much, but he says nothing, too taken with the look on Renji’s face. Need mixed with other, deeper feelings, his breathing in short, rapid bursts. Sweat making loose strands of hair cling sticky his face and neck, tattoos a dark gleam in the morning light.
Uryuu’s no better, a constant thrust against Ichigo’s back, his arousal smearing precome all over Ichigo’s skin, his arms coming up around Ichigo from behind in a tight embrace. He’s pressed his cheek against the side of Ichigo’s head, dark hair tickling at Ichigo’s neck and shoulder, more panting than breathing. His fingers are splayed against Ichigo’s abdomen and chest, palms hot and sticky with sweat.
Renji’s the first to break, a mix of curses and other noises spilling from his lips as he slams into Ichigo, his grip tight and unrelenting. Arousal has flushed his skin an intoxicating shade of pink that clashes with his hair and Ichigo watches as Renji chews on his bottom lip, body twitching as he spills himself inside of Ichigo.
Behind him, Uryuu’s breathing is sharp, dancing on the edge. His hands gripping as his hips move, pressing again and again into Ichigo’s back. Ichigo squirms, tries to twist in Uryuu’s arms and Renji’s hold, wanting to add fingers and lips and tongue, anything to help Uryuu along, but he’s trapped between them and neither seems willing to yield.
Not that it seems to matter. Uryuu thrusts sharply against him, and then Ichigo feels heat blossom against his back as Uryuu shudders with his release. Renji is watching them both with half-lidded eyes, one hand stroking along Ichigo’s leg which has finally been released from Renji’s tight grip.
Uryuu’s lips are on Ichigo’s collarbone and shoulder, peppering it with kisses, and Renji’s lazily sucking Uryuu’s soiled fingers into his mouth, threatening to ignite lust in Ichigo all over again. As though they have all morning to do nothing more than lie in Ichigo’s too-small bed and make a bigger mess of things.
Actually, that doesn’t sound too bad.
The frenzy of the moment fades into slow caresses and gentle kisses and the slide of skin over skin. Renji slides out of Ichigo as Uryuu leans back, keeping Ichigo pressed to his cheek. Renji seems quite content to kiss Ichigo soundly before wrapping an arm loosely around Ichigo’s waist, hand landing on Uryuu’s thigh possessively. Renji’s head makes a pillow out of Ichigo’s sticky belly and amazingly, Ichigo doesn’t complain.
The three of them are a sweaty, sticky mess on Ichigo’s incredibly tiny bed, but he can’t seem to muster up the energy to coax either of them into the equally small shower. He’s focusing intently on the sound of Uryuu’s heartbeat in his left ear, and the feel of Renji’s steadying breathing against the damp flesh of his abdomen. It’s too hot, squished between them, but Ichigo fights the urge to squirm free.
“It’s goin’ ta work,” Renji murmurs sleepily, free hand stroking the outside of Ichigo’s thigh. “We’ll make it work.”
Ichigo watches as Uryuu’s fingers tangle in Renji’s hair affectionately, more playful than desire inducing. “How?”
“Do we have to work out the specifics now?” Uryuu retorts, and Ichigo doesn’t have to see his face to know that the Quincy is rolling his eyes. “It’ll be the same as it always has.”
“Except you’ll stop pushing me?”
“No, we’ll keep pushing,” Renji says with a small grin, rolling his neck to look up at Ichigo with bright amber eyes. “Just in a different direction than before.”
“And you can do us both a favor and stop trying to leave,” Uryuu adds, his fingers tracing nonsense patterns over Ichigo’s chest. “It’s time consuming and pointless.”
Typical Uryuu.
“Yeah, and we’ll just keep comin’ after you,” Renji says.
Typical Renji.
Despite himself, Ichigo feels his mouth twitch toward a smile, one weak with fatigue, but a smile nonetheless.
“I’m not leaving again,” he says, and he means it this time.
He won’t say everything’s been fixed or solved. Ichigo’s pretty sure they’ll fight about something else again. It’s inevitable, with so much ego crammed into their arrangement, but it can be worked through and endured.
Besides, Ichigo has the feeling no matter what happens, Uryuu and Reni plan on keeping them together. No matter what it takes. And Ichigo quite likes the sound of that.
* * *
a/n: As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated. ^_^
Title: Whatever It Takes
Rating: NC-17
Words: 3208
Warning: fluff, OOCness, angst, threesome, boysmut
Final Part -- Trinity
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Ichigo’s not sure how or when they made it to the bed. He doesn’t remember when his clothes came off or when all three of them became naked. It’s a blur of images and sensations to him. Hands sliding over his flesh, calloused and smooth, the smell of the both of them. Uryuu like freshly sharpened pencils and the crisp bite of a thunderstorm. Renji like a smoking hearth and something sweet, probably those candies he’s always chewing on that he no doubt pilfers from Urahara-san’s shop.
They’re on his bed now, something really too narrow for three bodies, especially considering Renji’s size, but somehow, they fit. Ichigo’s pressed between them, Uryuu in front, kissing him senseless.
Talented Quincy hands roam over Ichigo’s body, making goosebumps rise over his skin. Uryuu’s hands are smooth, unsurprising considering the care Uryuu takes with them, and they are nimble. Plucking over a nipple here, tracing delicately over Ichigo’s sensitive sides, dragging over the collarbone. Teasing touches that only serve to ramp Ichigo’s desires up higher.
Uryuu’s glasses have been set off to the side, out of harm’s way, and without them, he looks softer, younger. Ichigo would never say so aloud, but he’s always found the effect striking. Uryuu looks much less like his father and more like Uryuu without his glasses, if that even makes sense.
His kisses are hot and sharp, nipping across Ichigo’s lips and peppering bites along Ichigo’s stubbly jaw and chin. He tongues Ichigo’s Adam’s apple – a favorite spot of Uryuu’s to attack – before claiming Ichigo’s lips again. His skin all but glows in the early morning light. Of them all, Uryuu is the palest.
Renji is behind Ichigo, pressed against his back, skin hot like fire. His rigid length is pressed against the crest of Ichigo’s buttocks, leaking profusely, and Renji rolls his hips in a rhythm that Ichigo finds himself replicating, his own hips pushing forward into empty air. One arm is hooked around Ichigo’s abdomen, holding him in place, keeping him locked on his knees and pressed against Ichigo.
A hot mouth, teeth and tongue, have latched onto Ichigo’s shoulder, biting with just enough pressure to make him hot and hungry. Not enough to draw blood, but enough that Ichigo feels it, enough that he moans every time he feels Renji’s teeth and those sexy canines.
Another arm settles possessively on Ichigo’s hip, guiding the motion of their bodies, the way they rock back and forth on the bed. Renji’s mumbling something, the deep baritone of his voice like aural sex to Ichigo.
Ichigo still has one hand buried in crimson hair, a compulsion he can’t seem to fight. He loves the feel of Renji’s surprisingly soft hair sliding through his fingers, as much as he loves to bury his hand in Uryuu’s silky black hair. He’s lost the capability for speech, nothing more than low sounds of encouragement falling from his lips. Moans and groans and other noises that would be embarrassing in any other situation, but only serve to amplify the tension in the room, pushing their mutual sense of need and arousal through the roof.
“Uryuu…” Renji’s voice is thick with need, gravelly, hungry.
“Of course,” Uryuu answers as though there’s some silent communication between them, a silent connection that has somehow built itself in Ichigo’s half-day absence.
They planned this. The distant thought flickers through Ichigo’s head, and is gone the moment Uryuu’s lips and hands vanish from him. A brief chill attacks Ichigo’s front, but it’s chased away when Renji reaches up and forces Ichigo’s head to turn toward him, causing their lips to meet. This time around, the kiss is aggressive, more claiming than gentle persuasion.
Ichigo shudders, his cock harder than rock, seeping fluid at the tip. It’s the only place they haven’t touched him yet and he feels the need coiling in his gut like a spring winding tighter and tighter. He lowers his hand, thinking to take care of himself, but Uryuu returns and smacks his arm away as though he’s a child daring to steal a cookie from the cookie jar.
There’s a snap, like the sound of a bottle opening, and Ichigo peels his eyes open as he pulls away from Renji’s lips, watching as Uryuu pours a clear liquid into his palm. Uryuu smirks as Renji’s knee slides between Ichigo’s, forcing his legs apart. Ichigo doesn’t have it in him to protest, not when Uryuu approaches with that look in his eyes. One that bathes Ichigo in a wash of need and heat.
Uryuu’s blue eyes glitter in the morning light as he leans over, running his tongue over the peaked nub of Ichigo’s nipple before drawing it into his mouth. Teeth delicately applying pressure that’s absolutely perfect, just enough to drive him to the edge. Ichigo’s hips have a mind of their own, shoving forward into empty air, as Uryuu’s lube coated fingers trail slickly down Ichigo’s abdomen. They follow a thin line of hair downward, brushing briefly over Ichigo’s neglected arousal before continuing ever southward.
A sound, not unlike a whine, echoes in Ichigo’s throat.
Uryuu chuckles, like the bastard he is, and Renji echoes the sentiment. The both of them are bastards, teasing him like this.
Slick fingers tickle at Ichigo’s scrotum before gliding lower, two of them pressing to Ichigo’s puckered muscle. They tease the wrinkled flesh before pushing inside, making Ichigo gasp, clench, draw in a stuttered breath. It’s not pain, but need that makes him react so strongly.
“Goddamn, you’re hot like this,” Renji mutters in his ear, half-curse, half-exclamation of awe.
Renji’s growled comment makes Uryuu hum in agreement, looking past Ichigo almost as if he’s not there. “You’ll share, of course,” he says, tongue tracing a nonsense path across Ichigo’s chest, from one nipple to the other.
His fingers push deeper inside Ichigo, crooking just so, making Ichigo’s entire body break out in a sweat. He twitches, still trapped by Renji’s arm, and his other hand buries itself in Uryuu’s hair, trying to coax the Quincy’s mouth to head southward. Uryuu, however, is as stubborn as always and refuses to relent. His fingers twist and push, brushing occasionally against Ichigo’s prostate, making his hips dance under Uryuu’s ministrations.
“What’s mine is yours,” Renji says, and Ichigo can practically hear the rakish smile in Renji’s voice, knows that it’s curling Renji’s lips.
Ichigo sucks in a breath, hips twisting between the two. “Will you two stop your damned flirting and get to business already!” he demands and tells himself he’s not whining, not one bit.
“Someone sounds a little desperate,” Renji teases, still in that throaty, deep voice that makes Ichigo quiver with anticipation, and he thrusts against the small of Ichigo’s back, mimicking his future actions.
“I rather like you like this, Ichigo,” Uryuu adds, fingers maddening as they slip and twist, a smirk curling his lips. “Desperate and stripped of your defenses. Something for our eyes alone.” Heat banks in Uryuu’s blue eyes and Ichigo’s own gaze follows the way Uryuu drags his tongue over his lips.
Something that Ichigo refuses to name a plead echoes in the back of his throat, wordless.
“So it’s… about power,” Ichigo gasps as Uryuu’s fingers withdraw and the Quincy straightens, pressing their body flush together, his lips mere inches away. “About claiming what no one else has.”
“Something like that,” Renji mutters, his tongue flicking across the impression of teeth left in Ichigo’s shoulder as his hands move to Ichigo’s hips, large hands gripping forcefully.
Ichigo has an unholy obsession with Renji’s hands. He won’t mention it aloud, but the truth is there, brewing inside of him. They are dangerously skilled.
Renji groans and Ichigo belatedly realizes that Uryuu has reached around him, wrapping long and elegant fingers around Renji’s neglected arousal. Ichigo can feel the motion as the back of Uryuu’s hand occasionally brushes against Ichigo’s ass, tantalizing touches. And he watches, breathless as Uryuu leans past Ichigo, finding Renji’s mouth and claiming it for his own. They kiss, open-mouthed and tongues tangling as Ichigo stares, desire like a knife through the gut, heat lancing his body.
There’s a flush of need in Uryuu’s cheeks, heat against his usually cool demeanor, and Ichigo can’t resist dragging his hands over the planes of Uryuu’s body. Skin sweat-slick and smooth beneath his fingers, barely scarred.
And then Renji growls, a sound of need, and breaks off the kiss with Uryuu. His fingers clamp down on Ichigo’s hip, jerking Ichigo backward as Renji sinks down, his cock slipping from teasing at the crest of Ichigo’s buttocks to sliding down the cleft. There’s all of a moment where the head of Renji’s arousal rests at Ichigo’s entrance, teasing once again, before Renji pushes inside of him with a quickly drawn breath.
Ichigo gasps, caught on the cusp, and drags Uryuu in for a kiss, letting the Quincy swallow all those embarrassing noises. Renji makes a sound, cross between a gasp and a groan, as he slides home as naturally as though he belongs there. There’s discomfort, at first, but it bleeds into pleasant sensation. Renji doesn’t move at first, just pauses, nestled inside of Ichigo, and Ichigo can feel the heat of that amber stare as he watches Uryuu and Ichigo kiss noisily, lips and tongues smacking.
Ichigo drags Uryuu closer, until their bodies are flush, their groins pressed together. Uryuu’s cock grinds against his, a deliberate, needy rhythm that forces Ichigo’s own arousal higher and higher. The mattress creaks with pointed noise and Ichigo’s all kinds of relieved that his family is nowhere within hearing distance.
And then thoughts of embarrassing situations fade into the background as Renji begins to move, drawing his hips back slowly, pushing forward with an equally unhurried pace. Determined to drag out the sensation and drive Ichigo absolutely mad. His fingers flex on Ichigo’s hips, the Vizard’s breathing sharp and staggered, but Renji’s as stubborn as he is resolute, and he keeps that deliberate, slow pace.
Renji’s breathing right into Ichigo’s ear, hot and heavy, his tongue occasionally slipping out to coil around that ear. He’s murmuring nonsense words, mixed with filthy phrases that would sound stupid coming from anyone else. But when paired with Renji’s rough, sexy voice, they sound all the more erotic. Ichigo’s not the only one affected; Uryuu loves the sound of Renji’s “sex” voice just as much.
There’s a blur of sensation. Uryuu’s lips meshing with his, soft hands tracking down Ichigo’s sides, tracing nonsense patters. Renji’s cock working within him, making the heat in his belly twist and coil like a snake ready to strike. The heat of being pressed between their bodies, the sensation of reaitsu rising in the room, twisting together in various strands of power: Shinigami, Quincy, Vizard… or whatever the hell Ichigo wants to call himself. Sometimes, not even he is sure.
Renji’s whispering something in Ichigo’s ear, something about wanting to see his face. Ichigo gasps out some kind of agreement, mind lost somewhere between the feel of Uryuu’s cock pressed against his and Renji’s cock moving inside of him.
Ichigo is dragged from a happy place of sensation when Renji suddenly withdraws, pulling back, creating an absence of warmth behind Ichigo. He breaks away from the kiss with Uryuu to protest, but the Quincy is gone as well and the hands on his hips squeeze before tossing Ichigo around as though he weighs little more than a rag doll. Damn annoyingly large Shinigami and their damned brute strength.
His lower back hits the mattress, but he finds the rest of him cradled between two bodies. Renji in front now, Uryuu behind, his leaking arousal pressing against Ichigo’s back, sliding slickly across a sweat-soaked spine.
Renji’s hands fall on Ichigo’s knees, pushing them apart as he kneels between Ichigo’s legs, amber eyes dark with desire, crimson hair falling over his shoulders. He hooks Ichigo’s legs under the knee, pushes them back, forces Ichigo against Uryuu behind him, who doesn’t seem to mind as he takes the brunt of Ichigo’s weight.
He’s trapped between them. Funny how Ichigo doesn’t seem to mind. How he just licks his lips, lets himself drown in the desire in Renji’s eyes, and gets a handful of red hair. Pulls Renji closer for a deep kiss that stretches the limits of his flexibility. Ichigo arches his body, pushing back against Uryuu, thrusting up against Renji, urging him to get with the program. Ichigo’s so hard he hurts, and judging from Uryuu’s quick breathing, the Quincy is in no better state. Renji’s stubbornly holding onto his own stamina but why bother? There’ll be more times. Lots and lots of them.
Renji looks past Ichigo, catching eyes with Uryuu. And once again, Ichigo gets the sense that they are communicating silently, making plans without him. Renji smirks, making the need knotting in Ichigo’s belly spurt precome all over his own belly.
They move, in tandem but opposite patterns. Renji pushes into him and when he pulls back, Uryuu rolls his hips forward, until there’s not a moment when Ichigo doesn’t feel either of them pressed against him. His hips twist and churn between them, and Ichigo can only identify the hands roaming over his body by feel alone. Uryuu’s smoother, slim fingers pinching at his nipples as his other hand loosely fists Ichigo’s desperate arousal. One of Renij’s hands braces against the bed, the other firmly clamped around Ichigo’s knee, keeping him open, easy for plundering.
He’s trapped between them, a twisting, moaning, desperate frenzy of movement and Ichigo can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.
Ichigo’s already on edge; they’ve both done a good job of teasing him. His skin’s on fire, covered in sweat, and he all but shouts when Uryuu tightens his grip, starts stroking him with real intent. Ichigo twists and writhes between them, one hand clamped onto Uryuu’s arm and the other tangled in Renji’s hair – longer than it used to be, easier to reach, to pull.
Uryuu’s tongue strokes over his throat, neck, collarbone, tracing the marks left behind by Renji’s teeth and there’s something supremely erotic about that little act. Ichigo feels he’s been claimed twice over, possessed and owned without a chance for doubt.
Sensation blurs, one into the next, and when Ichigo surrenders, his release washes over him in steadying waves. He spills over Uryuu’s hands, releases an embarrassing chorus of noises, and clenches down on Renji, causing the Shinigami to moan of his own accord. Pleasure sparks sharp and heavy, throbbing through his entire body. He’s certain he’s left a bruise on Uryuu’s arm from the force of his grip.
Renji’s pace has increased, faster, more desperate. Ichigo’s so sensitive in the aftermath of his own release that the feel of Renji inside him is almost too much, but he says nothing, too taken with the look on Renji’s face. Need mixed with other, deeper feelings, his breathing in short, rapid bursts. Sweat making loose strands of hair cling sticky his face and neck, tattoos a dark gleam in the morning light.
Uryuu’s no better, a constant thrust against Ichigo’s back, his arousal smearing precome all over Ichigo’s skin, his arms coming up around Ichigo from behind in a tight embrace. He’s pressed his cheek against the side of Ichigo’s head, dark hair tickling at Ichigo’s neck and shoulder, more panting than breathing. His fingers are splayed against Ichigo’s abdomen and chest, palms hot and sticky with sweat.
Renji’s the first to break, a mix of curses and other noises spilling from his lips as he slams into Ichigo, his grip tight and unrelenting. Arousal has flushed his skin an intoxicating shade of pink that clashes with his hair and Ichigo watches as Renji chews on his bottom lip, body twitching as he spills himself inside of Ichigo.
Behind him, Uryuu’s breathing is sharp, dancing on the edge. His hands gripping as his hips move, pressing again and again into Ichigo’s back. Ichigo squirms, tries to twist in Uryuu’s arms and Renji’s hold, wanting to add fingers and lips and tongue, anything to help Uryuu along, but he’s trapped between them and neither seems willing to yield.
Not that it seems to matter. Uryuu thrusts sharply against him, and then Ichigo feels heat blossom against his back as Uryuu shudders with his release. Renji is watching them both with half-lidded eyes, one hand stroking along Ichigo’s leg which has finally been released from Renji’s tight grip.
Uryuu’s lips are on Ichigo’s collarbone and shoulder, peppering it with kisses, and Renji’s lazily sucking Uryuu’s soiled fingers into his mouth, threatening to ignite lust in Ichigo all over again. As though they have all morning to do nothing more than lie in Ichigo’s too-small bed and make a bigger mess of things.
Actually, that doesn’t sound too bad.
The frenzy of the moment fades into slow caresses and gentle kisses and the slide of skin over skin. Renji slides out of Ichigo as Uryuu leans back, keeping Ichigo pressed to his cheek. Renji seems quite content to kiss Ichigo soundly before wrapping an arm loosely around Ichigo’s waist, hand landing on Uryuu’s thigh possessively. Renji’s head makes a pillow out of Ichigo’s sticky belly and amazingly, Ichigo doesn’t complain.
The three of them are a sweaty, sticky mess on Ichigo’s incredibly tiny bed, but he can’t seem to muster up the energy to coax either of them into the equally small shower. He’s focusing intently on the sound of Uryuu’s heartbeat in his left ear, and the feel of Renji’s steadying breathing against the damp flesh of his abdomen. It’s too hot, squished between them, but Ichigo fights the urge to squirm free.
“It’s goin’ ta work,” Renji murmurs sleepily, free hand stroking the outside of Ichigo’s thigh. “We’ll make it work.”
Ichigo watches as Uryuu’s fingers tangle in Renji’s hair affectionately, more playful than desire inducing. “How?”
“Do we have to work out the specifics now?” Uryuu retorts, and Ichigo doesn’t have to see his face to know that the Quincy is rolling his eyes. “It’ll be the same as it always has.”
“Except you’ll stop pushing me?”
“No, we’ll keep pushing,” Renji says with a small grin, rolling his neck to look up at Ichigo with bright amber eyes. “Just in a different direction than before.”
“And you can do us both a favor and stop trying to leave,” Uryuu adds, his fingers tracing nonsense patterns over Ichigo’s chest. “It’s time consuming and pointless.”
Typical Uryuu.
“Yeah, and we’ll just keep comin’ after you,” Renji says.
Typical Renji.
Despite himself, Ichigo feels his mouth twitch toward a smile, one weak with fatigue, but a smile nonetheless.
“I’m not leaving again,” he says, and he means it this time.
He won’t say everything’s been fixed or solved. Ichigo’s pretty sure they’ll fight about something else again. It’s inevitable, with so much ego crammed into their arrangement, but it can be worked through and endured.
Besides, Ichigo has the feeling no matter what happens, Uryuu and Reni plan on keeping them together. No matter what it takes. And Ichigo quite likes the sound of that.
a/n: As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated. ^_^