A Game of Two Halves

After noodling around with this story for quite some time now, I finally feel happy enough with it to present it to you all.

"A game of two halves" is a phrase meaning that circumstances have suddenly changed.

~~

Ichigo sat at the kitchen table, looking surlier than usual, shoulders hunched and face turned so he could look out the window. Hirako lounged against the counter, watching him.

“This is unacceptable.”

Ichigo’s frown deepened, but he kept quiet, not wanting to set off his volatile lover. Again.

“Ichigo, look at me,” the blonde demanded, voice even and quiet despite the still evident anger. Ichigo looked up with a glare. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, he thought. He’d been taking care of himself as a Shinigami long before Hirako had ever shown up and he’d survived well enough; he didn’t need to be fucking babysat.

“Tch. Piss off.”

Ichigo knew it had been the wrong thing to say when his lover’s eyes narrowed sharply, but he wasn’t about to start apologizing. “I’m getting a little sick of your attitude.”

“You don’t say.”

“I remember quite specifically telling you to keep your ass right here and for one time in your life let someone else take care of things. But of course you had to go charging blindly into battle while incapacitated, being everyone’s fucking hero—”

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Ichigo argued, realizing that he was probably digging his grave even deeper. “I’m fine.”

“The problem,” Shinji said, fixing Ichigo with a withering glare, “the problem is you nearly died. If it hadn’t been some quick thinking on Inoue-chan’s part—”

Ichigo stood up abruptly, not in the mood for a fucking lecture, trying to hide his wince when he felt the wound on his shoulder open again. So he’d gone into battle with fresh wounds and picked up a few new ones; he’d had closer calls before. And now Shinji had to be on some fucking tirade—

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home,” Ichigo snapped, stomping down the hall towards the door. He shouted in pain when Hirako grabbed him by his injured shoulder and slammed him against the wall.

“Don’t think we’re finished with this conversation, Ichigo.”

Ichigo, reacting instinctively, threw a punch with his good arm, and felt a shock of satisfaction jolt through him as it connected, sending Shinji stumbling back a couple feet. The blonde raised a hand to his mouth to find it bloody, his lip split. Ichigo swallowed thickly, blood beginning to soak through his shirt. He quite decidedly did not like what he saw in the blonde’s eyes, his satisfaction quickly turning to queasiness. “I’ll see you at school,” Ichigo snarled, slamming the door shut behind him.

Of course, Ichigo hadn’t actually expected Shinji to show up in class, but he was acutely aware of the empty seat next to him and it made him squirm every time he thought about their argument. The blonde had seemed pissed, and he wasn’t really looking forward to making up.

It wasn’t for another week that Ichigo had cooled down enough to drop by Shinji’s apartment again, his wounds fully healed and a silver scar decorating his shoulder for his trouble.

Luckily enough for him, Shinji had the biggest sweet tooth of anyone he had ever known and could generally be mollified or coerced with gifts of chocolate, depending on how much money Ichigo spent at any given time.

The red head had used up most of the cash he had been saving up for some unspecified “special occasion”, though he supposed bribing his lover into forgiving him was occasion enough. Fucking Belgian chocolates with champagne. Champagne.

Ichigo almost lost his nerve when he reached Shinji’s door, standing there for a long moment before finally knocking.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ichigo heard his lover say through the door. “I’m coming.”

Ichigo’s stomach dropped when the lock turned and he hoped he didn’t look half as terrified as he felt. Shinji opened the door shirtless and wet, pants slung low on his hips and blonde hair plastered to his face and neck and Ichigo realized acutely just how much he had missed this. Ichigo tried not to stare at the bits of metal through the blonde’s nipples, wanting to reach out and pull Shinji to him.

“I, uh, got you these,” Ichigo said instead, holding out the gift wrapped box.

Shinji narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but moved back to let Ichigo in, taking the colorful box from his hands and shaking it. Ichigo sat next to Hirako on the couch and watched those long fingers tear through the wrapping paper. Ichigo knew it had been a good idea when he heard Shinji’s sharp intake of breath.

“I’m still pissed at you,” Shinji said, leaning back against the couch and helping himself to the candies.

“Thought you might be,” Ichigo said a little distractedly, watching Shinji lick one finger.

“You wanna make it up to me?”

Ichigo took a few deep breaths and mentally counted to ten, resisting the urge to argue. They’d done enough of that lately. “What did you have in mind?”

“You, on you knees in the bedroom, naked. I’ll join you in just a minute.”

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

“Tch. Are you going to do it, or not?”

Ichigo stood up and headed to the bedroom, heart beating nervously. “Fine. You’re so damn pushy.”

“You love it~.” Shinji called after him and Ichigo smiled a little.

The red head hesitated once he reached the bedroom. Admittedly he wanted to make up with Shinji, but it was a little annoying when the blonde tried to boss him around, expecting to just do as he was told. Shinji thought of himself as the boss of the relationship, had said so on more than one occasion, and though normally Ichigo would argue against such a thing, he’d just be wasting his breath. There was just no talking Shinji out of an idea once it got into his head.

He supposed his arguments would hold more water if Shinji didn’t have a knack for getting his way every single time. With a sigh, Ichigo started stripping, folding his clothes and setting them on a chair. He heard Shinji come up behind him.

“Come on, I said on your knees,” the blonde said, poking Ichigo in the back.

“I heard you the first time,” Ichigo said, not bothering to hide the sulk in his voice. He closed his eyes once kneeling and shuddered when he felt Shinji pressing against him from behind. The blonde’s skin was warm and still a little damp and Ichigo let his head fall back to rest on Hirako’s shoulder. He could smell chlorine in his lover’s hair and got a little harder thinking of Shinji stretched out in the sun by the pool.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Ichigo whispered.

Shinji sighed, and the sound of it made Ichigo a little nervous. “Missed you, too. But being apart gave me a little time to think, and what I think is that we need to have ourselves a nice, long talk, wouldn’t you say so, Ichigo?”

The teen exhaled shakily, not sure that he liked where this was going. He had figured they’d get straight to the make up sex, and then talk later, or not at all, but no such luck. “Is this about… last week?”

Shinji hesitated. “Yes, and no. We’ll get to that later, though, so don’t you worry.” The blonde pulled Ichigo closer to him and stroked the red head’s side reassuringly. “I actually wanted to discuss the direction our relationship is taking.”

“Then this is about you always trying to order me around, isn’t it?”

Ichigo could tell by the tone in the blonde’s voice that his lover was rolling his eyes. “Ichigo, you should be thankful that I’m looking out for your best interests.”

“This isn’t even about me getting hurt, is it? It’s about… about you thinking you own me—”

“Ichigo,” Shinji said firmly, cutting the teen off, “you can’t fool me for a second that you don’t like me dominating yo—”

“I fucking knew it!” Ichigo was about to stand, but Shinji’s vice like grip kept him rooted to the spot.

“Ichigo. I’ve had you blind folded, tied up, wearing nipple clamps and a cock ring, fucked you in a goddamn dress for Christ’s sake and you’re trying to convince me that it doesn’t turn you the fuck on to give in and submit to me?”

Well, when he put it that way—“That’s exactly what I’m trying to convince you of! I’m not fucking subm—haah—”

Ichigo wished he could even remember what he had been trying to argue about, but with Shinji’s hand wrapped around his cock, it was a little hard to think.

“As if I need any more proof,” Shinji was saying, though Ichigo only half heard him, “here you are, hard as hell just from being on your knees for me.”

“You don’t have to—ah—fucking coddle me! Just because I let you get away with shit in the bedroom—”

“Let me get away with?” Shinji asked incredulously, hand stilling on Ichigo’s cock.

“Yes!” Ichigo shouted, glad for the reprieve from distraction. “Let you. But if you think for one second that I’m going to let you try that shit in regards to the rest of my life, you’ve got another thing coming! I’m not—not your fucking slave!”

“Ichigo, that’s not at all what I’ve been trying to get at here. That’s not what you need, and it’s not what I want,” Shinji said, trying to sound soothing but falling a little short.

Ichigo didn’t say anything, willing to hear his lover out because it didn’t look like he’d be getting out of this any time soon.

“But you’re so fucking hot headed all the time, you don’t stop to think about the repercussions of your actions. I worry about you, idiot. You’re not just a great lay, you know.”

Ichigo shifted uncomfortably, feeling a little guilty, wishing he could hold onto his anger, but only sat there passively as it fizzled out. “I didn’t mean to make you… upset, but I’m not a child, I can handle myself.”

“I’m not saying that you can’t, Ichigo,” Shinji murmured, pressing wet kisses against Ichigo’s bare shoulders. “I’m just asking for you to have a care for your safety. You’re not the only one around who can handle a crisis, you know.”

“Alright, alright,” Ichigo said with a sigh. “I get it. However, ah—”

“Hmm?” Shinji murmured against Ichigo’s ear, his hand starting to stroke the red head’s cock again.

“When we’re, hnn, like this, then…” Ichigo trailed off, not sure exactly what Shinji had in mind.

“Then… I do, in fact, expect your submission.” Shinji stroked his thumb over Ichigo’s mouth when the teen made a noise of protest. “Ichigo, if you really think about it, you’ve been willingly doing this with me for the past couple of months without complaint. Not backing out now, are you?”

“No,” Ichigo said shakily. “No. I… I do want to have this, I just need—God, I don’t know what I need.”

“Well then, you’re in luck,” Shinji said happily, hands wandering over Ichigo’s body in lazy patterns. “Because I know exactly what you need, and I’ll gladly give it to you.”

“Or really?” Ichigo asked, sarcasm evident in his voice though it was gentler than his normal tone, teasing almost. “Then tell me, oh master, what is it that I need?”

Shinji gave Ichigo a quick swat on his ass that had the red head laughing and the older Vaizard couldn’t help but join in, glad for the dissipation of the tension that had grown between them. “A sound punishment for being such a brat, followed by the fucking of your life.”

Ichigo laughed again, quite obviously not taking the blonde’s threat seriously. “’The fucking of my life’, huh?”

Ichigo felt Hirako smile against his neck. “First things first. We’ll fuck after your punishment.”

“You’re joking,” Ichigo said, still sounding dubious.

“Nope,” Hirako said, sounding way too happy for Ichigo’s liking. “Now stay there while I grab a few things.”

“I—what the hell am I even being punished for?”

“For completely disregarding me and nearly getting yourself killed,” Shinji called from down the hall.

Ichigo sighed, shifting his weight a bit, but staying in place. He didn’t really feel like arguing with his blonde lover anymore, not after it seemed they were making some progress, though he couldn’t really bring himself to believe that Shinji was actually going to try and punish him. “You’re really serious about this shit, aren’t you?” Ichigo asked when he heard Shinji come into the room again.

“Yeah, I am,” Shinji said quietly, wanting to calm Ichigo’s obviously frayed nerves. “Nothing’s changing, Ichigo.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Are you going to tell me that you’ve been wanting to put an end to our time together, to see someone else?”

“You know I don’t want that,” Ichigo said, watching as Shinji came into his field of vision, a box in his hands.

“Well then,” his lover said, and Ichigo wished that from his position on the floor he could see the items Shinji was setting on the desk, “The only difference is that you recognize it now, that you’re mine.”

Shinji turned to face him, a wicked grin on his face that clashed with the seriousness of his tone. Ichigo stared incredulously at the objects in the blonde’s hands. “Are you sure this is necessary?” the younger Vaizard asked nervously.

“Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ll even give you a choice: you can be paddled,” Shinji said, sounding as though Christmas had come early, hefting an intimidating looking paddle in one hand, “or you can be flogged,” he finished, flipping his wrist towards Ichigo. The red head jumped at the sharp snapping sound of about thirty long, thin strips of leather striking the air.

“I think this is a little excessive,” Ichigo said, staring wide eyed at his lover.

Shinji laughed. “Not really. I’m guessing that this will be the first time someone’s taken one of these to your skin, so I’ll go easy on you. I bet you’ll even enjoy it.” Ichigo could feel goose bumps spreading over his skin as something flickered in Shinji’s eyes and he felt his stomach drop; his lover had just gotten an idea, which was never, ever good. “Or, Ichigo, if you don’t like either of these… I can just take you over my knee and use my hand.”

Ichigo stared blankly at his lover, not sure if his ears were working properly or not. He opened his mouth, but closed it again, not sure what to say in the face of such insanity.

“Come on, you better make up your mind before I make it up for you.”

“I—shit, give me a break, I’m thinking!” There was no way Ichigo was going to let Shinji get away with this without somehow getting back at him. But—the paddle looked the most worrisome, that was definitely out. The flogger, though looked like it might have a nasty bite to it, and Ichigo shivered at the thought of long red lines rising up on his skin and decided he didn’t much care for that, either.

Ichigo shifted again, thinking about his final option. That would just be humiliating, not that that wasn’t probably Shinji’s idea from the get go, but to be punished like a child… it just didn’t sit well with him.

“I can tell you which one I like best,” Shinji said with a bright smile. “Get up and come over here.”

Ichigo felt like he was stuck in place. “But—hey, I haven’t decided yet!”

“Snooze ya lose, Ichigo. Besides,” Shinji said with a wicked grin, “I wanted to save these toys for a bit later.”

“Toys?” Ichigo asked faintly. “Do you, uh, have a lot of these… ‘toys’?”

“A whole box full of ‘em,” Shinji said happily, “But they’re not all mean like these. Oh I saved that dress, too—”

Ichigo snarled and stood, stalking over to the blonde, though not entirely certain what he planned to do once he got there. Shinji smiled at him and backed up until he was seated comfortably on the bed before jerking Ichigo forward. The teen lost his balance and ended up face down over the blonde’s lap and Shinji was quick to trap Ichigo’s legs between his to keep the boy from kicking.

“God I can’t—I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it, sugar,” Shinji laughed, running a hand gently over Ichigo’s backside. Ichigo could feel the blonde’s cock hot and stiff against his side, and flushed in embarrassment when he realized he was just as aroused. Fuck, but there must have been something wrong with him—

The first strike jerked Ichigo from his thoughts and the red head swore. It… stung, a little, but mostly it was the principle of the thing.

“Honestly, Ichigo, profanity? I could be making you, oh, I don’t know, count them or say ‘thank you, may I have another?’ after each one. Really, I’m being generous here.”

Ichigo had something to say to that, but it completely flew out of his mind as Shinji administered a rapid succession of smacks. Ichigo hadn’t thought it was possible, but it was like each hit sent a jolt of white hot pleasure straight to his cock. It didn’t help that he was pressed up snugly against the blonde’s trousers and each time he was struck his cock rubbed against the slightly rough fabric.

With some surprise, Ichigo realized that Shinji had gone back to just stroking him and the red head realized how much tension he’d been holding. He relaxed slightly, only to be struck once more.

“Fuck—!” Ichigo shouted, starting to recognize a pattern. Shinji would spank him a few times and then stop, running his hands over skin that was starting to heat up, until Ichigo let his guard down or got tired of tensing up for the next series of blows.

It was nothing short of awful. Each slap was stinging worse than the last, and his ass felt red hot, and Hirako was making a sort of running commentary that only worsened his humiliation.

“You can pretend all you like, Ichigo,” Shinji said during one of the break periods, hands stroking over flesh so tense it was quivering, and Ichigo could hear the excitement in his voice, “but I almost don’t think this is punishment if I let you enjoy it too much.”

“Fuck! What’s to enjoy?” Ichigo snarled from his prone position, fingers clenched in the bed sheets. He yelped when the spanking resumed and almost missed what Shinji said next.

“Admit it, this has got you so fucking hot, being punished like this, like a child—”

“No!” Ichigo said, pressing his face into the mattress to hide his flush. It was quickly becoming too much. He could handle pain, yeah, with battle it was inevitable, but this… this was another thing entirely, not to mention his pain tolerance was lower when in his human body. In a fight, he could push it out of his mind, he could focus on winning, but spread out like this he couldn’t help but concentrate on each little sensation of his punishment.

“You can say it, Ichigo.”

“Fuck you, stop it already!”

Shinji smiled. “Only if you ask really nicely and say ‘please’.”

“Fine! God fuck you, you stupid prick, please—” Ichigo snarled.

Shinji had the nerve to actually laugh at him. “Oh, Ichigo, I think you can do better than that. But maybe you just need a little more motivation.” With that the spanking intensified, the force behind the strikes increasing almost past bearing.

Ichigo thrashed, trying to escape, to get some respite from his punishment, but he was held fast. And goddammit he was not going to beg. He’d eat Zangetsu first.

He was swearing at Shinji at the top of his lungs and it really was starting to hurt, rather than remaining a somewhat tolerable annoyance. His ass felt blistered now.

Ichigo stopped cursing and grit his teeth, coming to a decision. If he had to beg—and make it convincing—to get Shinji to stop, then he just might give in and do so, because certainly Shinji’s arm wasn’t going to tire before he did. Maybe the blonde wouldn’t tease him mercilessly about it.

“Please!” Ichigo said, trying to fake a gasp. “Shinji, please stop!”

Ichigo wasn’t sure if he sounded sincere enough. “Ichigo, I should let you know now that I’m not going to stop until I have you really begging. I know you’re stubborn, but I’m quite patient. You won’t deny me this.”

Ichigo swore again, trying to wrack his brain for something he could say that would end his punishment, but it was steadily getting harder and harder to think straight. And he was still hard, despite the pain or maybe—said a small voice in the part of Ichigo’s brain that was still functioning—because of it. Ichigo didn’t want to examine that too closely.

“Alright, Shinji, come on,” Ichigo argued, breathless. “Please, please stop this. I—we’ll work things out, please.”

Shinji didn’t say anything and Ichigo wanted to swear again, but more out of frustration than real anger. He realized that it was becoming harder, not only to think, but to hold onto that anger and indignation he’d had previously, desperation creeping up on him. He always got like this when Shinji touched him, and the blonde always, always got what he wanted.

“I won’t… I won’t do it again. Please, Shinji!”

Ichigo exhaled shakily in relief when the spanking stopped and Shinji let him rest there, the blonde’s hands soothing on his red skin. “Close, Ichigo, close,” the older Vaizard said, and Ichigo wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that, but he rocked his hips hopefully against Shinji’s leg and moaned a little at the feel of it. “Oh, Ichigo, did you think we were done?”

Ichigo’s eyes widened but his shout of protest was cut off by the next sharp slap to his ass. The red head was at a loss; he just wanted this to fucking stop, for Shinji to lay him out on his back and take him, for Shinji just to touch him, to kiss him—

“Please—”the teen gasped, wanting, not caring at caring anymore that he had to beg. It was now nearly impossible to concentrate on anything but the hardness of his cock and the pain of his ass. “Oh, oh please.”

“Fuck, but I knew you could beg so prettily. Please what, Ichigo?”

Ichigo almost couldn’t formulate the words. “I—I don’t know! Please!”

“Do you want me to stop?” Shinji asked, voice gentle.

“Yes!”

“And you promise to be good?” The blonde had to close his eyes for a moment as Ichigo struggled for breath; he hadn’t known that getting the teen like this would be so intense for him as well. “Will you be a good boy, Ichigo?”

“Yes, yes, please!”

“Say it, Ichigo, say it and I’ll stop.”

“Please, please, Shinji, oh, oh God—fuck—please! Shinji! I, ah, oh God, I promise! I promise I’ll be good! I’ll be so good, so good to you, please, please, please—”

Well, when Ichigo asked him so nicely… Shinji stopped the spanking and let Ichigo rest for a few long moments across his lap still. The boy’s ass was a delightful shade of red and Shinji wanted nothing more than to press Ichigo into the mattress and make him scream some more. When Ichigo’s breathing had slowed, Shinji pulled him upright and pressed warm kisses over his shoulders and neck. He felt almost guilty at the way Ichigo clutched at him, still shaking a little.

Shinji laid him down on his back, stroking his hands all over the teen’s flushed and sweaty skin. “It’s okay, Ichigo. We’re done now.” He gently reached down to wrap a hand around his lover’s cock and the boy keened, panting and pleading.

It was shocking, Shinji thought, to see Ichigo so undone, all his barriers broken down and it pleased him that Ichigo was seeking out his mouth for kisses and kind words.

“That’s right,” He murmured into Ichigo’s mouth, still stroking, not daring to tease. Ichigo was so close, balanced on the knife’s edge. “You’re so good, Ichigo, such a good boy. My good boy.”

That seemed not to send, but to thrust him over, his face so fucking beautiful as pleasure wracked through him in waves. Shinji kept Ichigo tucked close, aware that the red head often needed contact and reassurance after orgasm, and after such an intense scene much more so.

He could feel Ichigo start to come down, his tremors slowing and his breath evening out.

“Are you okay?” Shinji asked when he felt Ichigo was steady enough to answer his question.

“I—I think so. My ass hurts.”

Shinji smiled. “Well, just an excuse to spoil you for a bit.”

Ichigo shifted and the blonde’s smile vanished; he could tell Ichigo was nervous about something. “Are we… going to do that again?”

“Not anytime soon,” Shinji replied, but that didn’t seem to calm Ichigo down at all. “I’m not just going to punish you at the drop of a hat, Ichigo. And, ah, I think I pushed your limits a little—”

“It’s okay,” Ichigo said, sounding more confident, more like himself. “I’m okay. Ah—didn’t you say something about fucking me within an inch of my life?”

“Something along those lines, yeah. But I’ve got a better idea, if you think you’re up for it.”

“Yeah, I—want to, want you to touch me. Please.” Ichigo watched as Shinji disrobed before crawling over to straddle him.

He expected the blonde to set straight to work at stretching him open, but instead, Shinji seemed content to stroke and kiss him, starting with his right hand. Ichigo let his eyes fall shut when he felt a wet, open mouthed kiss being placed on his palm, followed by warm, wet trail sliding up his arm. He moaned a little when Shinji gently bit down on his bicep before moving over his chest.

The bites were turning a little bit sharper, though no crueler, and Ichigo lay there, panting, taking it all, strange emotions welling up inside of him. He wanted to… to accept what Shinji had said, that he belonged to the older Vaizard—

“Shinji,” he moaned, unsure of what he wanted to say. He needed this, needed Shinji’s solid weight above him, a place where he could let go and give in, needed the blonde to… to dominate him. Ichigo tried not to cringe at the connotation of that word, but… God, Shinji knew him better than himself, knew everything he needed.

The blonde paused, worried at the tone of Ichigo’s voice. Normally the red head would have bounced back completely by now, cocky and sure of himself once more, but he still sounded a little timid. “Mmm, Ichigo,” Shinji murmured, sliding himself up Ichigo’s body and burying his face in the teen’s neck. “Ready for me?”

Ichigo nodded, breath hitching in his chest, but his eyes clouded over in confusion when Shinji didn’t immediately reach down to prepare him after sitting up and fishing around the drawer of the bedside table for the lube.

“Oh,” Ichigo said, as he watched Shinji slick up his fingers and reach back behind himself. He watched Shinji’s eyelashes flutter and he swallowed thickly. “Oh.”

“Put your arms up, Ichigo,” Shinji said when the red head reached for him. “Hands on the headboard, there you go. Can you stay like that for me?”

Ichigo nodded, though he really wanted to touch the blonde. His grip tightened when Shinji reached back with one hand to cover his cock in lube and it was all he could do to keep his arms above his head as Shinji rocked down on him.

“Oh god,” Ichigo said, voice strangled, as Shinji started to move. Though he had already come once, he could tell he wasn’t going to last long. The heat enveloping his cock was incredible and he moaned desperately, trying to get Shinji to pick up the pace. He was vaguely aware that he had started pleading again, urging Shinji to go faster but the older Vaizard kept the pace torturously slow, pushing Ichigo’s hips down and forcing him to take it.

“You’re all mine, Ichigo,” Shinji said through gritted teeth and Ichigo moaned helplessly in agreement. “Say it, Ichigo.”

“Shinji!” Ichigo wailed in complaint. He felt like he’d spent all day begging; all he wanted was to come, for Shinji to let him, for Shinji to take it from him. Shinji already knew who Ichigo belonged to.

“Want to hear you say it. Who do you belong to?”

“You, oh Shinji, you. Belong to you, have to, need to—”

Ichigo almost choked when Shinji picked up the pace. Completely losing coherency, all Ichigo could do was beg with his moans and gasps as Shinji brought him closer and closer to the edge.

He felt Shinji come first, the blonde’s muscles clenching tight as a vice around him before warmth erupted over his chest. Ichigo didn’t last for more than a second longer, releasing into his lover’s body with a long moan. Shinji dropped forward to lay on his chest without pulling off of Ichigo’s cock and they lay like that for several long moments. Ichigo realized he still had a death grip on the head board and let go in favor of running his fingers through the blonde’s hair.

“I might have to argue with you more often if it gets me make up sex like that,” Ichigo said breathlessly.

“Don’t push your luck,” Shinji replied, his voice muffled by Ichigo’s chest.

“I—” Ichigo said suddenly before trailing off. He knew what he wanted to say, but somehow it stuck in his throat.

Shinji sat up, resting his elbows against Ichigo’s chest and looking him in the eye with a smile. “I know,” he said, leaning forward for a kiss. “You too.”