Nice and Naughty

Merry Christmas everyone! I suppose I should be politically correct and say Happy Holidays instead, but screw it- I’m politically incorrect and its just tough titty said the kitty :P

This is written for yami_jay on the IchiHitsu LJ community.

Her prompts were: Criminal Minds, hot chocolate, and snow prince. I tried my best to incorporate all three, even though I’ve never seen Criminal Minds (thank God for Wikipedia! XD)

PAIRING: Ichigo x Hitsugaya

WARNINGS: yaoi, lemon- yes you heard me right, this contains full, outright naughty-naughty. Not citrus, orange, tangerine or even lime- this is full blown lemon. I did my best to keep them IC, but just to keep my ass covered, possible OOC

SUMMARY: Its Christmas, and all Hitsugaya wants to do is watch a show on TV, but naughty Ichigo has other ideas.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bleach and I make no money off of this.

NOTES: This is set back when Matsu and Hitsu are staying at Orihime’s house. I know Christmas in Japan is very, very different to Christmas in the western world, but I’m not Japanese, I don’t know exactly how they celebrate it so I’m gonna go with how it’s done in the west.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

NICE AND NAUGHTY

by Neko Oni

Bullets sprayed a shower of death in the warm sunshine and bodies dropped like discarded, torn paper on Christmas morning. Hitsugaya lay half asleep on Kurosaki’s couch, snuggled up in the orange haired idiot’s blanket he’d stolen off his bed, and watching the flickering TV screen in the dimly lit living room.

The little shinigami let out a half yawn and half sigh, inhaling the musky, warm scent of Ichigo from the blanket as his favorite character returned fire on the screen. His first night in the world of the living, thanks to watching TV with the remote control-hog Matsumoto, he’d become addicted to the police show Criminal Minds and had developed a bit of a crush on the character Spencer Reid. As said character made it to safety from the spray of criminal bullets, Hitsugaya felt his baby cheeks turn red as he recalled Matsumoto’s teasing. He glowered at the TV and cuddled deeper into Kurosaki’s blanket so that only his scowling turquoise eyes were visible.

“Shiro-chan?” Ichigo lumbered into the room, freshly showered and hair damp and sweet smelling from shampoo. He eyed his boyfriend, who had been absorbed in his Christmas gift- a boxed DVD set of an entire season of Criminal Minds. The sight of the cute baby dragon snuggled up in his blanket made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up under that blanket and take that slender little body in his arms, nuzzle the mop of thick, fluffy snow-colored hair.

Hitsugaya’s eyes didn’t flick from the screen. “It’s Toshiro, blockhead.” He growled. It had taken Ichigo months of hard work and perseverance to graduate from ‘Its Hitsugaya-taichou to ‘it’s Hitsugaya’ and finally, delight of all delights, after much pain and many, many threats of death, dismemberment, and castration, to ‘Its Toshiro.’ Now the strawberry was busy working on being allowed to call his frosty little lover Shiro-chan.

Ichigo walked over to the couch, his long, lean frame looming over Toshiro’s curled up one. “You’ve been watching that for hours. We don’t nearly get enough time alone together, and you still wanna watch that?”

“I don’t get a lot of time to watch television, and I missed this entire season.”

“If I knew you were going to be like this, I would’ve let Matsumoto take you out caroling with Orihime and the rest of the family.”

Hitsugaya flicked his large, gem-like eyes up at his boyfriend at that one, a ‘you-wouldn’t-dare’ expression stamped on his pretty face. The only reason he currently was not outside singing annoying songs and tramping in the snow and cold with Matsumoto, Orihime, and Ichigo’s father and sisters was because of Ichigo. He still wasn’t sure how the stupid berry managed it, but somehow Ichigo had convinced his immune-to-death threats fukutaichou that Hitsugaya needed to stay home alone with Ichigo.

Ichigo frowned down at him. “You’re obsessed with that Spencer guy. You haven’t even touched you’re hot chocolate Matsumoto so thoughtfully made for you. Its stone cold.”

Hitsugaya snorted. “That’s because I wouldn’t put it past her to put something in it.”

“Well, if it gets you to stop being so cranky…”

“Ichigo.” Hitsugaya growled in warning.

Ichigo wisely stopped, and the smaller of the two turned his attention back to the TV. Ichigo knelt, swooping down and claiming soft, pouting pink lips in a frustrated, jealous kiss. Their lips mashed together none too gently, demanding Hitsugaya’s full attention and shooting a sharp, hot arrow of surprised pleasure down his spine. His eyes flew open then closed as Ichigo’s questing tongue thrust between his petal soft lips, demanding entrance and caressing every part of the warm cavern of his mouth. Hitsugaya curled his toes in pleasure and pressed his lips back against Ichigo’s as Ichigo’s long, strong arms wrapped around his supple body.

He felt the little dragon melt in his arms like ice blasted with fierce heat. He’d been waiting to do this all day, but he wanted his lover’s full attention. Hitsugaya made a soft little noise in the back of his throat and brushed his thin chest against Ichigo’s, urging him on and begging for more. Ichigo smirked and pulled away; shocked at the sudden assault and just as sudden withdrawal, Hitsugaya could not bite back his whimper of disappointment and glared at the substitute soul reaper.

Seeing he had his lover’s full attention, Ichigo’s smirk widened. “We’ll finish this when you’re done with your show.” He paused for a heartbeat, staring into turquoise eyes dark with lust. “If we have time- they’ll be back soon.” He started to stand up.

Click. TV and DVD player shut off, and a small hand grabbed his wrist. Ichigo’s hormones and manly pride did a mental happy dance. ‘Take that, Spencer Reid.’ He thought triumphantly as he knelt back down. Hitsugaya was waiting for him, wrapping slim arms around his neck and pulling him down into another hungry, bruising kiss.

This time he thrust his tongue into Ichigo’s mouth, urgent and dominating. Ichigo’s tongue parried his own, fighting for control. Ichigo pressed down on top of him, using his bigger body to his advantage and wresting control of the kiss from the petite taichou. Hitsugaya’s scowl turned to abrupt surprise, however, when Ichigo suddenly stood up with him and the blanket wrapped around him in his strong arms.

“Lets continue this in the bedroom, my little snow prince.” The substitute soul reaper murmured to the warm bundle in his arms.

Hitsugaya glowered at the ‘little’, but his scowl quickly melted faster than a snowball in Hades when Ichigo nibbled on his lips, trailing kisses to one ear and nibbling on a lobe. His teeth found a particularly sensitive nerve cluster and bit down, sending waves of pleasure rippling down his body, making him shudder in response.

As he carried the taichou down the hall, Ichigo licked and nipped the spot, causing Hitsugaya to writhe and wriggle as his pleasure rose. His mind fogged in the warm, red haze of lust and his rigidly disciplined self control slipped with each step of Ichigo’s large feet. Hitsugaya was a tightly-wound powder keg just waiting to go off, and Ichigo proved to be the perfect match.

Ichigo sucked on the sensitive skin, lightly mashing it between his teeth. Hitsugaya gasped and clung to Ichigo, his large, expressive eyes shut tight as waves of heat and slight pain rolled down him. He was so hard it hurt, his erection jutting into Ichigo’s stomach and straining against the blanket encasing him. On the couch it was a soft and cuddly cocoon, but now it was a nuisance, a restrictive layer separating him from the blazing heat of Ichigo’s body.

Ichigo kicked his door in, his arms full and his head busy. He stumbled into the room, his knees almost buckling at Hitsugaya’s low moans. His hard-on strained against the cotton of his Santa boxers that read ‘jingle this’ and his navy sweatpants. Hitsugaya’s fevered squirming didn’t help; he wanted to rip their clothes off and bury himself to the hilt in that delightfully warm body, feel it squirming under him as he pounded into it relentlessly.

Twice, he nearly dropped his squirming bundle as he switched his assault to Hitsugaya’s other ear and felt Hitsugaya’s short nails dig into the skin on the back of his neck, leaving angry, red half-moon marks. They fell upon the bed, Ichigo tossing the blanket aside then smothering Hitsugaya in frantic kisses of ardent desire.

Hitsugaya wore an over-sized t-shirt that was slightly stretched in the bust from a pair of ridiculously huge boobs- obviously a shirt of Matsumoto’s. Ichigo frowned down at it; he’d prefer it if his lover wore one of *his* shirts, not Matsumoto’s. The picture on the shirt made him scowl even more- it was that Spencer Reid dude. Ichigo snarled, growling low in his throat like an angry hollow, grabbed the offending material and yanked it over Hitsugaya’s head.

Hitsugaya blinked in surprise; one minute Ichigo was on him, hot and hungry then he was gone and so was his shirt; cool air rushed over his naked body. Then the orange-haired boy was naked, too, and his longer body covered Hitsugaya’s own once again, drowning him in kisses and bites. Large, rough hands, calloused from handling a sword, were gentle as they ghosted over his soft flesh, rubbing his pleasure-hardened, cherry blossom pink nipples, stroking his nubile hips and finally gripping his throbbing length.

Hitsugaya moaned and groaned as Ichigo explored his body, hitting every sensitive nerve spot and pleasure center he possessed in the brash, brazen yet loving way only Ichigo could.

“Ichigo!” he cried out and arched his back, raking his nails down Ichigo’s, when the younger boy grabbed his manhood and squeezed. His calloused skin was rough against the sensitive shaft, pleasure and pain entwining. He jerked, feeling ready to explode already, his tip leaking pre-cum.

Ichigo chuckled. “Going commando, Shiro-chan? Such a naughty baby dragon-“

Hitsugaya blushed- he’d forgotten his underwear at Orihime’s. He’d been in the shower before Ichigo, and he refused to put a pair of dirty underwear back on, so he wore none- he’d get a clean pair in the morning. However, right now, he was far too horny to be embarrassed. He did not want talk, he wanted action. He wanted Ichigo, and he wanted him now.

Hitsugaya cut his bigger lover off, savagely attacking him like a cornered dragon. He lunged upwards from the mattress, wrapping his slender legs around Ichigo’s waist and brushing his unstretched entrance teasingly against Ichigo’s leaking, straining tip. Ichigo groaned in response, his hips jutting forward automatically on their own. His tip touched Hitsugaya’s entrance and they both gasped and groaned.

It took all of Ichigo’s will power to jerk and push himself away. Both boys panted heavily, skin shining with sweat and chests heaving, pupils dilated with unfulfilled lust. Ichigo’s body wanted to keep going, to pound into Hitsugaya right here and now. But unstretched and unlubed would hurt his baby dragon, rob him of pleasure and give him only pain. The mental image of Ichigo pounding away while Hitsugaya cried beneath him was the mental slap he needed to send his arm reaching for the lube he kept in the drawer on his nightstand.

Hitsugaya lay panting with his eyes closed, yearning for Ichigo’s touch. He almost didn’t care if his lover took him raw, but Ichigo was huge- bankai was definitely not an indicator of penis size- and that would really hurt. “Kurosaki.” He growled, becoming impatient. He opened his eyes to see Ichigo sitting back on his haunches, struggling with the cap of brand new, unopened lube. He sighed and sat up.

“Give it to me.” A small, imperious hand was held in front of Ichigo’s face.

Ichigo scowled. “No, I almost got it.”

“Tch, idiot.” Hitsugaya snatched it from his boyfriend, twisting the cap in his nimble fingers, but it stayed firmly in place. He struggled for several minutes while Ichigo watched him.

“You can’t get it, either.” Ichigo snatched it back then after a few more moments of struggle, he twisted the stubborn cap off with a triumphant grin. “There! Told you I could do it.”

Hitsugaya snorted. “Not until after I touched it. I loosened it up for you.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. “Sure you did, little one.”

A growl. “Kurosaki…”

Ichigo refused to wince. He was only called by his last name when he was two steps from the proverbial dog house. He just leaned in and pressed his forehead to Hitsugaya’s. “You know, you’re awfully cute when your horny and pissed.” He stole a kiss on the icy dragon’s swollen pink lips, pushing him back down on the mattress.

The ryoka kissed the shinigami’s pale chest, taking one pert nipple into his mouth and sucking as he coated his long fingers with lube then slipped them between Hitsugaya’s wantonly parted legs to coat his entrance liberally, then one digit slipped inside, wriggling around and stretching him out.

Hitsugaya squirmed, torn between the assault on his sensitive nipple and the sensation of something wriggling around inside him. After several moments, another finger slipped inside, gently scissoring and slowly, carefully stretching him out. Ichigo watched him intently, and Hitsugaya looked up into his molten chocolate eyes ablaze with barely restrained desire.

A third finger entered him, pressing on his tight ring of muscle, stretching it out to accommodate Ichigo’s girth. Hitsugaya’s sweet face contorted in discomfort for a moment, his brow wrinkling and Ichigo brushed butterfly kisses on his forehead to soothe him. Their first time together, they had both been so eager that Ichigo had accidentally hurt Toshiro, and since then he’d been extra careful, afraid he would hurt him again.

Hitsugaya’s breath caught in his throat and his face twisted as he felt himself stretched even further. It wasn’t exactly painful, just odd- he still wasn’t used to the sensation, and sometimes it did hurt. He made no sound, but he could not prevent the grimaces from flitting across his face. Then he felt prepared, and the fingers no longer bothered him- he wanted more, wanted the pleasure Ichigo’s invasion promised. His face smoothed and he caught Ichigo’s eye.

“I’m ready.” Ichigo hesitated, and Hitsugaya leaned forward to kiss him on the lips, chastely, sweetly, and that was all the encouragement Ichigo needed. He pulled his fingers, took a deep breath, grabbed Hitsugaya’s slender thighs, and positioned himself.

Once more, he looked to Hitsugaya, who nodded and wriggled his hips in open invitation. Ichigo exhaled, coated his aching shaft, then slid into the gates of heaven. Hitsugaya’s delicious, tight heat enveloped him and he moaned his pleasure, falling forward and catching himself on his arms so he didn’t crush the slender body under him.

Hitsugaya hissed sharply as Ichigo entered him, then closed his eyes and gasped in pleasure when his sweet spot was punctured by Ichigo’s forward thrust. Bright stars danced behind his eyelids and bolts of ecstasy raced along his spine, making his entire body tingle. He wrapped his legs around Ichigo, pulling him in tighter and causing the bigger boy to groan in response.

Ichigo braced himself on his arms and began an achingly slow rhythm, teasing and taunting Hitsugaya, coming close to his sweet spot but never quite hitting it. Hitsugaya writhed under him, bucking his hips upward in time with Ichigo’s thrusts, encouraging him to pick up the pace and drive him to fulfillment.

Ichigo smiled down at him, enjoying the power he had over the baby dragon. He kissed his lips, nipped at his nose and licked his nipples while continuing his slow, sinuous thrusts. He held back on his own pleasure as well, his body chafing at the bit of his will, but it would only make the peaking moment that much sweeter, like craving a bite of chocolate cheesecake all day then finally biting into it, savoring it and letting it melt in your mouth. So he tasted and teased, letting his sweet desert melt and making his blood race.

Hitsugaya was not happy with Ichigo’s languid, taunting pace. His blood raced, his heart thumped in his chest, and his own erection pressed between them, engorged, aching, and untouched. He bit his lower lip and wrestled control from his unsuspecting lover. He reared up, his fingers fisting in Ichigo’s wild, unruly orange hair as he smashed their lips together roughly. He quickly pulled away, flopping back down then raked his fingers down Ichigo’s toned chest, scratching his nipples and washboard stomach.

Ichigo groaned, surrendering to his lover; the battle was over before it began, and the war was won when Hitsugaya clenched his muscles around Ichigo’s embedded length, squeezing it and nearly pulling him over the edge. Ichigo cried out, his body shuddering as he nearly collapsed and he was unable to fight, to resist, anymore. He was completely in Hitsugaya’s frosty, sharp little dragon claws, helpless and at his power.

They kissed, tongues entwining, Hitsugaya allowing Ichigo dominance in this as his nails marked Ichigo as his own, running down his back, down his arms, and his chest, pinching here and there, as Ichigo’s thrusts picked up tempo, becoming shorter, rougher, and deeper the higher they climbed.

One of Ichigo’s hands snaked down between their stomachs to grab Hitsugaya’s own neglected erection, squeezing and stroking it. Hitsugaya jerked and moaned into Ichigo’s mouth. Their bodies entangled into one entity like their souls as they rode the waves of passion deeper and further until the crashed in a storm of fulfillment, Ichigo exploding inside Hitsugaya, and Hitsugaya coating Ichigo’s stomach in a sticky, pearly fluid. Their cries of climax were lost in each other’s mouths and they fell limp in a tangled heap of limbs.

Ichigo used what little energy he had left to pull Toshiro to his chest with a contented sigh. Used to this, Hitsugaya cuddled up, his cheek pressed over Ichigo’s slowing heart beat. Hitsugaya made a face when he felt warm fluid leak out of him; Ichigo chuckled softly and kissed his forehead.

“Its alright, Shiro-chan.”

“Its gross. Let me do it to you and see how you like it.”

Ichigo made a face at that and ignored the comment, drawing lazy, contented circles on his lover’s back, rough fingertips ghosting over the soft skin. Hitsugaya shivered at the sensation and relaxed even more, melting like butter on a hot roll.

He fell limp, completely drained and sated in post-coital bliss in his boyfriend’s arms. Ichigo’s hand on his back and the steady, strong thump-thump of his heart was luring Hitsugaya to sleep. His eyelids felt heavy, his own heart thumping steadily, in time to Ichigo’s own. Their souls were as entwined as their bodies had been, and he smiled softly at the thought.

Ichigo looked down at the soft, rare smile lighting up his lover’s face. He didn’t know what caused it, and he didn’t dare question it- he just enjoyed the very rare moment, drinking in the site, his own heart feeling as light. Feeling Hitsugaya’s soft, even breathing and knowing the little dragon was asleep, he rested his hand on Hitsugaya’s back, feeling the rhythm of his heart beating in time with his own, as if they were one. He smiled at the thought, following his lover into dreamland.

OWARI