Punch Drunk Love

Title // Punch Drunk Love
Authors // R. Brightside & BrucesGirl

AN// RENICHI!
Don’t like the pairing, then you don’t like the pairing. Don’t read it =D
Wh00t for roleplay! And this is the one shot born of Bleach Fandom. Lotsa spoilers… from when Ichigo first fights Renji in Soul Society onwards.

Disclaimer // We do not own Bleach. If we did, Aizen would be a pimp, and Ichigo would have sex with every male Shinigami. Ahh, well. We can still write this =3

Lithe fingers tugged at orange strands of hair, and the sound of a forehead hitting the desk in the classroom resounded right after the bell cheerily indicated the end of the school day. “God, how much homework is this freak of a lady going to give us?” Ichigo groaned. His handsome face, stuck in the usual frown lines, didn’t even lighten a little as he left the building and sauntered down the street to Urahara’s Shop. He slung the bag into the floor and jerked off his shoes at the entrance and called out to the oddly empty store. “OI! Urahara, Renji, Uryuu! HELLO?”

Renji was very sour. He crawled out of bed, and slumped into the main shop area, bright crimson hanging over his face and in every other direction. "LOUD BASTARD!" He screeched, shaking a fist at Ichigo. "I haven't been able to sleep for ages, and then you come in here and YELL THE FUCKING STORE DOWN!"

Like all their arguments started, he was being louder than Ichigo had been in the first place. Renji pulled, slumping slightly and pulling his hair back into a half-assed ponytail, glaring at Ichigo. "What do you want, anyway? Urahara is on vacation, and Uryuu has been taking a training vacation since two days ago. Did you forget already, dumbass?"

For a second, Ichigo was struck with memories of their battle in Soul Society, and his head tilted. He’d been beautiful during that battle. Renji didn’t look bad with his hair down. Wait…What in the FUCK was he thinking? Yuck. The screeching made Ichigo wince, and his brown eyes narrowed. “Oi, teme. You don’t have to yell!” He screeched back. “I wanted to train in the basement! Sorry I bothered your precious beauty sleep, baka.” He snorted.
Renji growled, having to hike up his jeans, AGAIN.
Damn, he needed to put on weight.

He glared at Ichigo, and then huffed - he didn't have time to deal with Ichigo, and he showed so in a decidedly very Kuchiki Byakuya way. "I was getting up anyway. I have to do training, anyway... I'm behind on keeping Zabimaru in shape." He ran a hand through his crimson hair, his glare fading slightly.
Zabimaru hadn't been the same since that battle...

Renji sighed, and patted his sheathed sword, hooked through one of the belt loops (evidently, the crimson-haired Shinigami hadn't realized that a belt was indeed in order) and then moved towards the basement door, ignoring Ichigo as he did so.

He'd started feeling uncomfortable around his 'friend' (he supposed they were), a strange feeling arising in his stomach every time that they made eye contact. And he kept on having these horrible, mushy dreams... that turned into very hot sex by the end. Renji grimaced as he slid down the ladder that led to the basement - those were nice, but not so when he thought about WHO he was dreaming about.

Ichigo grunted in annoyance and followed Renji down the ladder, and he looked down as he dropped neatly to the ground in a crouch and pressed his badge to his chest, his spirit immediately bursting out of his gigai. He breathed out in pleasure and stretched his arms as he looked around. It always seemed bigger than it was, but then again, Urahara was a genius when it came to space displacement.

Ichigo let his Riatsu fly the moment he hit the ground, causing the basement to shake and rumble with the force. He liked the way it felt as he felt his energy fly around him, and he nearly relaxed as the waves hit the rocks around him. Zangetsu pulsed on his back, and he smiled to himself and closed his eyes. Nearly seductively, he pulled the sword from his back and moved it in an arc, his voice whispering through the energy storm. “I feel you, Old Man.” He whispered.

Renji was forgotten as he performed a series of blasts from the tip of Zangetsu. He’d try his Bankai, but he was afraid he’d collapse the place with the force, so instead, he ran his fingers along Zangetsu’s blade lovingly after the grueling expulsion of Riatsu. He looked up at Renji with a bright grin. “Zabimaru likes a workout, eh? Figures a monkey would! The Old Man doesn’t even break out a sweat!” Under his breath, he added to the subtle insult. “Monkey boy.”

Renji watched as Ichigo artfully swung his blade, the bursts of energy filling his nerves with a soft buzz that didn't leave him for a few moments.
He drew Zabimaru from it's sheath, and held it in front of him, running his fingers along the blade in respect.

As Renji heard the insults, his blood boiled in anger. "Now that I'm healed again," He murmured, running his free hand through his hair, a rather dangerous grin spread over his face, his green eyes showing the anger and excitement. "It's a bad idea to insult me, and Zabimaru." He whipped his blade to the side, and as he swung it forward, the blade transformed and shot out, aiming for Ichigo's right arm.

The battle commenced, and Ichigo’s heart sang. He dodged the attack easily with a flash step that put him behind Renji and he dodged backwards, raising Zangetsu to his head, but at that moment, a flash screamed through his mind, and his eyes widened. A memory so potent…so powerful. “Kurosaki Ichigo…Since I can’t…Please. SAVE RUKIA!” The blood had dripped down onto the ground in buckets from his lithe, beautiful body, and Ichigo had left him alone and alive out of compassion and pity. He stumbled back, his eyes suddenly flying to Zangetsu. The Old Man didn’t want him to fight his friendly rival. “Oi, Enough, Renji!”

Renji wasn't listening, like the stubborn ass he was. He whirled around, bringing Zabimaru with him, green eyes showing the lust he felt. The lust for battle... the feeling of Zabimaru in his palm, the adrenaline that raced through him. It made his entire being burn, to be one with his sword once again. He knew he was probably still too weak for this... but he honestly didn't give a rat's ass about what the healers said. He was powerful!

“Baka!” Ichigo leapt out of the way and then parried as Zabimaru came after him. Each time Zangetsu shocked against Zabimaru, powerful memories of battles, time spent together, and Renji’s near death flashed through his mind so potently that Ichigo finally screamed at the sword. “STOP IT, Old Man! I can’t concentrate when you’re yelling at me!”

He parried another blow and leapt back. “Oi, Renji! Baka!” Finally, in choice of a new form of action, Ichigo flash stepped behind Renji, and in a split second, his arms were wrapped around the redhead’s shoulders, holding the Shinigami’s arms down. “Stop! I’m not supposed to be fighting you!”

Renji's vision was caving in from the edges, like he'd been sitting for a while, and then got up too quickly. Eventually he simply couldn't see, a flash of orange or silver a tiny pinprick. And suddenly, everything came to him in a rush, everything too bright...And Ichigo's arms were wrapped around him to stop him, just as he dropped Zabimaru and fainted, head rested against his friend's shoulder. His skin was feverish to the touch, and Renji was trembling, as if cold, breath coming out in rough gasps.

“Damn it!” Ichigo lowered the Shinigami to the ground, and he pulled his head into his lap and rested his palm against his forehead. “Fuck, no wonder we weren’t supposed to be fighting! Baka Renji!” He then lifted him and hoisted his body over his shoulder and climbed the ladder slowly after attaching Zangetsu to his back once more.

With careful movements, he gently laid Renji to rest on his bed, and he gazed at the redhead thoughtfully. With a tender movement, he loosed the tie from Renji’s hair and watched the red silk spill over the pillow. Hmn. Worried to leave him alone, Ichigo quietly laid down on the floor next to him, his brown eyes tense, and then, for some, unknown reason, he grew sleepy, and the next thing he knew, he was sleeping.

~*~*~*~

Renji woke up with one arm draped over the body next to him, but he was too groggy to do much about it, lying there and absorbing the warmth that radiated off Ichigo. Wait... Ichigo? Renji rolled away from his friend, vaguely mortified. But, seeing as they were fully dressed, nothing could have happened. He sank back into his pillow, vision obscured by a thick wave of red.
He remembered sparring... and then Ichigo telling him to stop, and arms wrapped around him, then nothing.

Well this was great. It meant that he wouldn't be able to train for another three months. He wondered if he could go and train in secret, carefully, just so that Zabimaru would stay powerful... But he doubted it. Kurosaki Ichigo, it seemed, was probably one of the easiest-awoken sleepers he knew.

However, at this point, Ichigo only rolled over towards Renji, muttering something about crazy stuffed lions and the weather, and then, with a groan, his arm dusted across Renji’s waist, and Ichigo pressed up against his side fully, his murmurs dying down. His breath, a sweet cinnamon from his favorite tea, ghosted over Renji’s neck, and again, Ichigo murmured.

“R-Ren…” The name was unfinished in his sleep, but it was obvious who he was dreaming about. His fingers tightened against Renji’s hoari, and he tugged just a bit tighter until his lips were pressed up against the older man’s neck, his breath hot and sticky against the skin.

Renji was sure he'd gone about as red as his hair. His breathing, damp against the skin of his neck... was intoxicating. He craned his neck away from Ichigo, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with his friend pressed tightly against him. He felt arousal growing within him, and barely managed to keep it down. Ichigo's soft murmur of his name made him shiver, and bit his lip against a groan. "Kuso... oi, Ichigo, wake up!" His voice wasn't loud, but softer - after all, he was close enough to Ichigo to not yell. He really was ready to take back the comment about his friend being a light sleeper.

Ichigo’s eyes sprang open, and he scrambled back, a shriek escaping his lips. “PERVERT! Just what the hell do you think you were doing?” He checked his body, and his hoari was still intact, and Zangetsu and Zabimaru were laying next to the door where he’d put them. He looked up at Renji, and he immediately noted that the soft waves of red were framing his beautiful face, and that the hoari had fallen open to reveal tantalizing bits of his tattoos and chest. “Anou…” He stopped for a moment. “You just passed out. Are you alright?”

"What the hell was I doing? I was getting molested by you, you're the pervert!" Renji snapped, pulling his haori closed and glaring at Ichigo. Well, it was his fault. "I guess." Renji ran a hand through his hair as he sat up, eyes somehow cheerful. "Well, I did skip two of the three months I was told not to train in, so I suppose it's my fault."

“Teme!” Ichigo growled. He leaned forward on his knees and slapped Renji neatly upside the head. “You should have fucking told me it took that long for you to heal outside of Soul Society.” He glared at the redhead before his eyes softened again. Goddamn Renji and those beautiful, silken locks that were flowing down his shoulders like a fiery waterfall. Ichigo flopped back on his hands lazily, and he growled. “I guess I have to deal with the Hollows all by myself.”

Renji growled at the slap, but he did deserve it. That didn't stop him retaliating, however. He pounced at Ichigo, knocking them both off the bed. "No need to hit me, ye fucking asshole!" He snapped, before sitting up on his friend's hips, pleased with himself but not showing it.

"Hmph. I'm not letting you get all the fun, bastard. I've been sitting here for a whole fucking month, and I haven't been able to do any fucking training at all 'till today. I'm going to help you get rid of the fucking hollows, whether you like it or not, Ichigo."

Ichigo’s head painfully bounced on the floor and he groaned in pain as Renji sat himself on his hips. “Teme! That hurt.” He squirmed slightly, the shoulder of his haori and yukuta coming off his shoulder, showing tantalizing bits of his pale, marble skin to the Shinigami above him. “Get off me.” He insisted. He was stronger than Renji. They both knew it, and he could have thrown him off at any time. The question danced in Ichigo’s mind why he didn’t just toss Renji back onto the futon.

Renji considered this for a moment, and then put his hands either side of Ichigo's head. "No." His breath smelt faintly of dango syrup and sake, a sweet taste that burned and lingered. He hovered his lips above Ichigo's, his green eyes searching the lovely brown that they met with.

"And I bet you want me to, Ichigo." He teased, a smirk growing on his lips before he pulled back, crossing his arms across his chest and looking very triumphant and smug.

“Get off!” Ichigo arched his hips to throw the Shinigami off, but the resulting pleasure was definitely not what he expected. His voice inhaled nearly harshly into his lungs, and he turned his head to the side, trying to avoid Renji seeing the sudden flush on his cheeks. “Get. Off. Now. Teme.” He growled dangerously. His mind was screaming for him to do it himself, but his body desperately wanted him there. He raised his hands and pressed them against Renji’s chest above his crossed arms. “Off!”

"Tche. Fine, fine. So pushy, Ichigo." Renji smirked, realizing that he'd wound the teen up. And then he realized that Ichigo was hard. He practically leapt backwards onto the futon, surprise written all over his voice, and then complete smugness. He snickered to himself, now really quite amused that Ichigo was aroused at him just motioning to kiss him.

Any further speech was interrupted by the ringing of the mobile phone-like receiver, which Renji quickly dug out of his obi. "Hollow. Not that close... that way." He pointed out of the window, and got up, picking up Zabimaru and sheathing it before pressing it into his obi for quick use. "Come on then, Ichigo. Or do you need to go to the bathroom before we leave?"

The boy’s face turned brighter than his orange hair, and he sputtered a second before leaping to his feet. “Teme! Shut up!” Ichigo growled and strapped Zangetsu to his back and followed Renji out onto the street and flash stepped with him to the Hollow’s location. It wasn’t a big Hollow, but it was a Hollow none the less. Ichigo perched on a telephone pole gracefully, and he pointed down to it. “It’s a little one. I’ll bet you could even take that one.” He jeered at Renji.

"Heh." The Hollow was leering at him, empty eyes boring straight into him. Renji pulled Zabimaru from it's sheath, and he could feel the spirit within it telling him to stop, that he'd just pass out again. "Shut up, freakin' monkey." The hollow charged forwards, and Renji readied himself, only to find that his vision was blacking out again, the severe adrenaline rush effecting his weak body too much.
/Oh, shit./ He swung Zabimaru once, slicing the hands off the Hollow, but he couldn't even manage that.

"Kur-osaki..." He murmured, feeling unsteady. Damn it, the bastard was right. He was too weak. He swung his sword again, and it nicked the mask, creating a long crack. "Kuso!" He swore, charging forwards and digging Zabimaru straight through the spirit's head, and with an ear-shattering cry, the beast was gone, leaving Rengi on his knees and preparing to fall further, Zabimaru sheathed to stop him from yelling once again.

“Dammit, Abarai!” Ichigo only used his last name when he was worried. It was a fact that everyone knew. “Baka! You should have told me…” With gentle, strong hands, he helped the Shinigami up to his feet and watched him sway for a second before wrapping a lithe arm around his chest. “Let’s go back to the shop, ok?”

He flash stepped with Renji hanging precariously off of his body until they reached the shop again, and he entered inside, kicking his sandals off and helping Renji with his. He supported the redhead carefully until they reached Renji’s room, and Ichigo let him down on the mat, and then sat down next to him. “Ok, no more fighting, training…anything! You could have gotten killed.”

Renji glared at Ichigo, but he was powerless to resist Ichigo. He was much stronger, after all. And so, he turned his back to his friend and sulked. He was weak... and he hated it. And he couldn't become stronger, not until he had healed. Damn Aizen... he had to get stronger, and beat that fucker to a pulp.

He wrapped his arms around himself, hating the fact that a young Shinigami like Ichigo was so much more powerful, and he was so weak compared to him. He growled to himself, sinking into his robes and ignoring his friend and work-mate.

Ichigo considered berating the redhead for pouting, but instead, he stood, and he disappeared into the kitchen for about ten minutes before returning. He held up a tray of onigiri, and he held up a bottle of sake in the other hand. “Uh, Kisuke left us something.” He sat down next to Renji, his brown eyes tender and compassionate, the usual frown of his brow gone in his care for Renji. “Here.” He offered an onigiri to the Shinigami and gently thrust it at him. “Eat. You’re not a freeloader when I’m around.”

Renji's eyes lit up at the sight of onigiri, and he took one of the rice balls and took a bite quite happily, sulk forgotten. The sake just added to his sudden joy, and he found himself finishing the onigiri in his hand before pouring himself some sake into the small cups provided. He took a long, contented sip of the cold alcohol, and sighed happily, grinning at Ichigo. "Trust Kisuke to have good sake. Closet drunk." Renji's grin spread wider. "Just like you're a closet perv, Kurosaki."

“N-nani?!” The squeak that escaped his mouth was very un-Ichigo like, but nonetheless, he stared at Renji as if though he’d lost his mind. “Y-you…” To stop his stuttering, he grabbed the whole sake bottle and took a healthy swig of it, only to start coughing. After all, he was only seventeen.

You had to be twenty to drink, and sake wasn’t something he got a hold off on a daily basis. He rubbed his chest and grimaced, putting the bottle down respectfully and eyeing as if though it were Byakuya’s Senbonzakura readied to stab him in the chest. He looked up at Renji. “You sat on me! You can’t just sit on a guy, squirm around, and think he’s not gonna get a little…uncomfortable!”

Renji chuckled softly at Ichigo's spluttering, taking a smaller sip of sake. "You are really going to regret doing that, you know." He remarked smugly, and then laughed full out. "You know, you're really active while you sleep, Ichigo." The red-head's voice was near a purr as he spoke.

"It was an interesting discovery. But I suppose I can let that go, onsidering as you're not even young enough to drink yet." He taunted, grinning widely. "Poor little strawberry. Hanging around with the big boys all the time, and he's not even an adult yet."

Ichigo saw red. If it was anything he hated, it was to be reminded of his age. He’d been through killing, protecting, and maiming. And he was only seventeen. “Yeah, I might not be old enough to drink yet.” He grabbed the sake bottle and took another swig, this time, avoiding a cough even though it burned his chest horribly. Before he could stop his temper, he snapped at Renji. “But who achieved Bankai first and who kicked whose ass?” The moment he said it, he regretted it. He hadn’t worked as hard as Renji to achieve the Old Man’s help.

He hadn’t gone through a whole academy, and still he was stronger than Renji. He knew it was a sore point, but he threw himself at it as soon as Renji grated on his age. He averted his eyes to cover his shame, hoping the redhead wouldn’t get too violent.

Renji soured slightly, his grin fading. He took another sip of the alcohol, and looked over at Ichigo, who had tinted slightly pink. Renji decided to ignore him for the moment, taking another sip of sake. He poured himself another cup, and started on that.

A few minutes into the silence, and the red-head looked up, checking to see if the alcohol had sunk in yet. He'd just make yet another sore point for Kurosaki, as soon as he was drunk enough to not resist. Or perhaps... he'd let Ichigo decide his fate.

Ichigo, in the meantime, was beginning to nurse the bottle of sake, still avoiding Renji’s gaze. “A-Anou…Gomen ne, Renji.” He took another sip. The alcohol was making him more relaxed, and his slender body was beginning to feel like a puddle of mush over his bones.

He ran fingertips over his own cheeks, feeling the brooding heat there boring down on him comfortably. “I didn’t mean that.” He took another drink of the sake and flopped back on the futon, his eyes pinned on the redhead’s back. “You know more than I do. I’m just a substitute, you know? You’re a vice captain.”

"And yet you beat my Captain." Renji shot back, resting on one hand as he turned his body to face Ichigo. "So you're of a higher rank than me, despite being a substitute." The red head smirked, and shrugged.

"If you can't take it like a man, then you may as well not be a Shinigami at all." The vice captain moved over to cup Ichigo's cheek, thumb smoothing over his perfect cheekbones. "You wanted this, didn't you, Ichigo?" He murmured, moving closer.

“I didn’t beat Byakuya. He walked away because he thought I was worthy enough to save Rukia. He could have killed me.” He retorted. “I’m a mongrel compared to you guys.” He thought about how graceful Rukia had been as a Shinigami, and he considered his battles in Soul Society. Compared to their trained grace, he was coarse and unrefined.

Ichigo’s eyes widened, and he stopped Renji’s advance with a lithe, scarred hand pressed to his chest. “W-wanted…what?” He really wasn’t applying much pressure to his chest, but he was confused and suddenly very hot from the sake. “Ren-Renji…” The name was breathed from his lips.

"This." Renji pressed his lips, very softly, against Ichigo's, eyes remaining half open. His counterpart was almost radiating heat, he found, and his skin was even hotter. Well, that would teach the kid to drink sake in big quantities like that.
His hands glided over Ichigo's moon-pale skin, moving the robe aside and caressing the flesh with deft, calloused fingertips. He wondered briefly if his friend would react badly to this, and to check, he pulled his lips away briefly, watching the emotions flicker on Kurosaki's face.

Kurosaki’s right arm lifted lazily, and the long, beautiful fingers of his hand rested gingerly on the fiery locks that were falling around him. The kiss was sweet…nearly innocent in its meaning, but this WAS Renji after all. His intentions could never be innocent. “Are you gonna…” He paused and arched up into the hand as the fingers unknowingly brushed across his nipple. “…gonna get back at me this way?” Ichigo’s brown eyes belied the truth.

He was a beautiful young man, full of hopes, dreams, ambition, and passion, but he’d never known another’s touch. He didn’t want his first time to be a form of someone else’s carefully plotted revenge. “I’d rather you just beat the hell out of me.” He whispered softly as he pressed a kiss to Renji’s lips.

"Nah." Renji murmured, pulling Ichigo close to his chest as he shrugged off his haori, with cloth falling around his hips. His tattoos were fully exposed, now, in all their glory, but he was too busy kissing Ichigo to show them off. "I'll save that for another time."

He could tell the substitute Shinigami was inexperienced... and he knew what it was like to have your first time being brutal and carnal. He didn't want to inflict that upon Ichigo, even if he did envy him. He trailed his kisses down lower, nipping softly at the base of his neck. It was strange, to top someone, but he wasn't a stranger to dominance. He traveled lower, and lower, until he was at Ichigo's abdomen, where he licked and nipped at sensitive flesh, hands roaming over the orange-haired teen's body, stopping to grope an area every once in a while.

Ichigo’s mind reeled. He was the stronger one. The one that was more powerful. And he was just laying down…for Abarai Renji of all men? MEN? Since when did he like guys? Since he fought Byakuya, obviously. The man had tested his resolve, and Ichigo had nearly fallen in love with his natural grace and beauty…until he’d seen Renji again outside the school in his ridiculous getup.

Then, Byakuya wasn’t even in his thoughts. He’d pulled him into the bushes, scolding him, but what he’d really wanted to do was smile at him and throw his arms around his slender neck. He whimpered softly into the kisses and touches, and his own long arms reached for the sculpted shoulders of the redhead, and his fingertips traced the myriad of Zabimaru’s tattoos on Renji, his brown eyes hazing over slightly. “Renji-kun…” He whispered.

Renji made a soft purring noise in the base of his throat, and he nuzzled against the soft skin, long crimson hair tickling Ichigo's chest and stomach.
"Ichigo..." He murmured, pulling away his friend's robes and discarding them behind him, pulling down the waistband of Ichigo's pants. He ran his hands along the insides of the exposed thighs and leaned down to kiss them, spreading them further. He smirked, the whimpers and moans so very appealing. "Ichigo... do you want this?"

Ichigo’s breath was coming in hard, brutal pants, and his eyes were unfocused and hazed. “I-I…” The moment that Renji’s fingertips brushed down his inner thighs, his control snapped, and a soft, keening moan escaped his lips, full of innocence and surprise and heady lust. “Fuck yes, I want this!” He growled out. He gasped sharply as Renji’s lips brushed the skin, and his fingers dug into the sculpted granite muscle of Abarai’s shoulders. “…Kami…” He legs fell open wantonly, giving Renji an erotic, sexual view of Ichigo’s toned, lithe body.

The red-head sucked on three fingers, making sure to keep eye contact with Ichigo all the while. He moved up to kiss his friend softly, and slipped the first, saliva-slick finger into his opening. "Tell me if it hurts." He murmured between kisses, trying his best to distract the substitute Shinigami without getting him any closer to orgasm.Because Abarai Renji was a tease - perhaps too much so.

Ichigo’s lithe body tensed at first, his long fingers digging into the granite muscle that wrapped around Renji’s shoulders with the tattoos. “Anything up my ass is gonna smart a little, baka.” Ichigo retorted breathlessly. He tried to sound angry, but the pleasure pouring through him didn’t allow it, and he arched, his rigid abdomen rippling with the effect. “S-stop teasing me…Renji-kun.” While he growled the first part of the sentence, Renji’s name was breathed. Moaned. Whimpered. “R-Renji-kun…” He couldn’t stop saying it. It rolled off his tongue like honey.

Renji pulled the most innocent face he could (which was difficult, considering as he had the biggest grin on his face), and moved the finger around within Ichigo, trying to find the spot he knew would make his counterpart cry out.
The red-head leaned over to Ichigo's ear, and licked the outer shell, purring softly. "I can be alot worse, if you want." He nipped at the teen's earlobe, adding a second digit to accompany the first.

The moans and whimpers of his name were getting him to a ridiculously aroused state, and he wasn't comfortable, to say the least. "Ichigo..." He murmured, a soft frown creasing his forhead. "Ichigo, don't bother with the honorifics. Unless you want me to call you Ichigo-hime." He teased, kissing the boy beneath him fervently.

“Teme…” Ichigo breathed, and then, a sweet, high pitched whimper escaped his lips, increasing in volume until it ended in a choked off cry as Renji hit his prostate, making his tall body arch nearly violently off the futon. The sake had to be speaking for him, but he was no longer coherent as he kissed Renji back with his full passion and thrust his hips down onto those fingers.

Renji held back his laughter at how eager Ichigo was, instead focusing on those gorgeous noises the teen was making. He was so loud... but then again, so was he, so that made them even. The red head added the last lubricated finger into Ichigo's opening, and scissor them gently, carefully. Ichigo breaking wouldn't be the most amazing ending to the so-far nice night. Renji pressed passionately into the kiss, daring only now to press at the teen's lips with his tongue.

Ichigo’s brown eyes widened, and he barked at Renji. “Itai!” The moment the pain struck him, it was gone and replaced by a far better feeling of being filled and stretched gently by slick, cool fingers, prodding occasionally at his bundle of nerves. “F-fuck, Renji. Just get it over with. Do SOMETHING.” He was so hard he was in pain, and all he wanted was for there to be some kind of relief. Something! He kissed Renji suddenly aggressively, biting his bottom lip sharply, drawing a tiny bit of blood. “Teme!”

Renji sighed, and discarded his pants, pulling Ichigo's all the way off and throwing them behind him. He sunk lower to kiss the head of the teen's erection, feeling very pleased with himself. "It wouldn't do for you to break, Ichigo-hime." He murmured, but pulled his fingers out despite himself. "However. If you reallydo want it that much, then I suppose I can't deny you."

Renji positioned himself at Ichigo's entrance, hooking his arms through the teen's knees, and then pressed in very slowly, pausing after every few moments, leaving time to let Ichigo adjust, and for himself - the tightness around him was near dizzying.

Ichigo ground his teeth, and then, a soft, high pitched cry sounded out through the room, and he arched his hips away, trying to pull away from the pain, but as tightly as Renji held his legs, the squirming only achievecd pulling the redhead into him deeper. He squirmed a bit more, and then, he saw white hot pleasure as Renji was fully seated into him. “Nnnngh… Fuck, Renji!” He whimpered it. Nearly scratched deep grooves in his shoulders. Ichigo finally broke. “Do-don’t stop! Move…Please!”

Renji hissed softly, a shiver travelling down his spine. "Oh, shit... I-Ichigo..." He gasped out, pulling out slowly before pressing back in again, starting up a steady pace. His brain urged him to go faster, to drive into Ichigo harder, but he daren't. The red head pressed soft, fleeting kisses to his friend's chest and neck, breath coming in hard, rough pants. "Oh, Kami-sama... /Ichigo/!"

“Fuck me harder, teme…is that…all you can do?” Ichigo goaded in a soft, whimpering voice. It should have been roared at Renji, but instead, he breathed it at him…nearly purred it. What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d always been the type to be on top. Or at least, so he thought until the red head got a hold of him. His hips arched up into the thrusts, his stomach rolling and rippling with each effort, giving him an imposing, combative image even while he made love. “Fuck me, Renji. Stop holding back!” He growled.

Renji snapped, green eyes showing lust, amusement, and annoyance. He gripped Ichigo's hips, and finally let himself loose, thrusting into the teen with as much force as he could muster. A feral grin passed over his face, and he pounded into Ichigo, making sure to hit the small bundle of nerves within him with every thrust.

He was loud, to say the least - low growls and moans spilled past his lips whenever he had the breath (from constant yelling, he probably had enough air in his lungs to hold his breath for ten minutes) to do so, Ichigo's name passing his lips often. He leant in to whisper something to the teen, not stopping his thrusts at all. “I was just getting started, Ichigo."

A shriek wrenched itself from Ichigo, and one of his delicate hands moved to wrap around the long, slender length of his arousal, and he began to stroke it purposefully, never giving Renji an inch to back down. “Then stop talking, teme…and fuck me.” He growled softly. He arched up into each thrust, crying out, writhing, and whimpering, stroking himself harder and harder until the pleasure was blinding. He was close…so close…”Renji…I’m gonna come soon…” He whimpered.

"How about you stop talking and get fucked?" Renji shot back, breath hitching as he felt Ichigo tighten around him, so close to orgasm. He found himself close, too - that familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach, that welcoming burning ensation...

His back arched and he let out a roar of ecstacy, that scream holding his lover's name, blinding, white-hot pleasure filling his nerves and veins until it felt like there was no more room for blood any more.He trembled as he spilt his seed, grasping hold of Ichigo's arousal and pumping quickly, wanting him to join him in the after-orgasm pleasures.

Ichigo screamed. There was no other dignified way to express his vocalization as he opened up his mouth and cried out to the ceiling, his Riatsu flaring out around them and enveloping them in the eternal, heavy warmth it provided. He spilled out onto his stomach and over Renji’s hand, his nails digging deep rivets into Renji’s tanned skin.

“Renji!” He wasn’t the silent type in sex obviously, but then again, he’d never really been with anyone until now. It had all been instinct and guidance from Renji, and in hindsight, he couldn’t have imagined it with anyone else. He fell back on the futon bonelessly and grinned up at Renji. “Not bad, teme.”

Renji allowed himself to fall beside Ichigo, pulling the teen to his chest and wiping his hand on the sheets.
"Pfft. Like you'd know any better." He murmured, running his hand through the cropped orange hair. It really was a beautiful color... he didn't understand why Ichigo got teased for it. He'd have to punch the next brat that dared call any part of his Ichigo weird.

He murmured something that sounded possessive, perhaps something along the lines of love - but Abarai Renji was too stubborn to ever mention something like love in a voice louder than an incoherent mutter. He drifted off into sleep soon after that, the sake and sex taking effect on him.

~*~*~*~

Renji was sitting on the roof at about the time Ichigo started lunch, sporting his own lunch of onigiri and dango. He had decided to dress a bit more sensibly, this time around - he sported a frayed, fishnet top, and a denim jacket just over that, plus a pair of (ripped by falling over one too many times) jeans, that hung low on his hips.

He was still going to get scolded, he knew that much, but it'd be worth it. He took a bite of dango, holding the stick with his teeth as he tied his hair back as he usually wore it. The bell rang, and he waited with a grin on his face for the (possibly limping) Ichigo to show up.

When Ichigo came up on the roof, accompanied by the usual lot, everyone carefully found their own corner to eat at while Ichigo neared Renji with a slight frown. “Oi, teme. What makes you think you can just show up at my school anytime you want? You’re too old to be here.” An indignant growl came from Rukia, and Ichigo cringed and looked at Renji.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed him and unceremoniously dragged him through the school halls, outside and into the very same bushes he’d dragged him the first time he’d shown up. “Now what do you want, baka? It’s lunch time!”

"I thought I'd come say hi." Renji managed around the stick of dango he still had in his mouth. He pulled the syrupy, sticky stick from the mouth, licking away the stray bits of sweetness from his fingers, watching Ichigo all the while.

"And I brought my lunch, too. No teachers come up here, right? So I won't get caught." His lips neared the teen's dangerously, a grin plastered over them. "Or perhaps, I just came here to tease you. Think what you like, I'm here now. It's lonely at the store... and /you/ sealed the basement, so I can't train."

“Hei. I did close the basement. I can’t trust you not to train when you’re on your own. What happens if you lose control of Zabimaru or you pass out again? Who’s gonna help you then?” He griped at Renji in the bushes just as he had the first day that Renji had come to call his name, gigai and all.

However, this time, Renji reached forward and jerked Ichigo into a hot, furious kiss, and all of his worries were forgotten as Renji found a new use for hiding in the shrubs next to the school.

This was beta’d and co-authored by BrucesGirl who is quick on her feet. Give her a round of applause please! Oh yeah, check out her profile and read her stuff!