[fic oneshot] Punishment Game
Title: Punishment Game
Author: alstair
Pairing: Ichigo x Ishida Uryuu
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: some boysex, some fetish
Summary: Ishida makes a bet with Ichigo where whoever loses must accept a certain punishment.
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach and the characters of Bleach
Yet another lighter fic. Seriously, I'm starting to love a scheming Ishida.
~
Ishida had been counting on Ichigo's unwillingness to lose to him. He was not disappointed. It was so easy to bait the idiot he almost felt sorry except this was Ichigo he was talking about and it was he, Ishida, who had done the baiting. The Shinigami had always been quick to pick a fight with him, quick to anger at the merest mention of the Shinigami's lack of planning and caution which, if the others only weren't so quick to sing his praises, would have found to be as glaringly obvious as it was to him. With an inward sigh he wondered how the fool had managed to survive until then.
But it wasn't as though the impetuosity of Ichigo was totally repellant to him. If he were to be honest about it, it was precisely because Ichigo was who he was--earnest to a fault, impulsive but brave, and intensely loyal--that first made Ishida consider the Shinigami. He was so--different--from Ishida. Heaven and earth as it were. Or Fire as opposed to water. And this was why when he had insinuated that he could hold his liquor better than Ichigo the latter immediately leapt at the chance to prove the Quincy wrong.
Of course Ishida knew just how much tolerance the Shinigami had to alcohol. It doesn't take a genius to silently bribe the bar waiters to tattle--only someone resourceful enough. These men knew much more than they let on, or than their customers had any inkling of. After seeing all manner of men, and occasionally women, sit on the bar stools and down glass after glass of the bar's various cocktails, they could pretty much tell the tipping point of any one customer after having only served them once. Nor was it supremely difficult to track the movements of the Shinigami, even when those weren't related to hollow extermination, when the Shinigami in question literally leaked reiatsu like a faulty hose all over the place.
Walking beside Ishida, Ichigo frowned, his hands stuck in his pockets. Just his luck, the Shinigami was getting impatient. From all indications the orange-head had no concept of the word wait. Of course, that was just par for the course for Ichigo.
"Will you just shut up Kurosaki? If you continue to whine I'll take that as an indication that you're scared that I'll find out just how badly you hold your liquor," Ishida said.
Ichigo huffed but did not say another word. He'd wounded the Shinigami's pride and ego but he already knew that. But when it came to Ichigo he just couldn't help but needle the Shinigami even more and try to punch more sense into the orange head. Today, however, his words had a double purpose. He wanted--he needed--an easily riled Ichigo. He needed an Ichigo who, when he finally laid his cards down, had already been worked to such a fit that backing out would be completely out of the question.
Slowly he led the Shinigami to his apartment, taking his time to let the Shinigami fret in the irritation that tinged his reiatsu with a distinct scratchy tang whenever it grated against Ishida's skin. Not only did he purposely take the longer route home but also took his time looking for the keys in his bag, even though he knew perfectly well where they were. Any intelligent individual, knowing Ishida was perfectly organized, would have known that for Ishida to not know precisely where his keys were was nothing short of a farce on Ishida's part. Ichigo however showed no signs of having registered the contradiction. It figured, dense as Ichigo was.
"Make yourself at home," Ishida said to the Shinigami as he closed the front door shut. Without waiting for any further invitation Ichigo headed for the black sofa in the living area.
"So is this something you sewed as well Ishida?" Ichigo pointed to the table runner from where he was seated.
"And if so? What does that matter to you?"
Ichigo pouted like a kid who was hurt. "Well Mr. I'm-so-Fucking-Untouchable it wouldn't hurt to let up a bit wouldn't it?"
Ishida retorted. "If you weren't as nosy as you are maybe I would!"
"I am NOT nosy. I'm being POLITE," Ichigo replied. He paused. "Wait...." Ichigo's brows creased again. However it was not from anger but from confusion. "...did you just imply that if I bugged you less you would be friendlier to me?"
Well, well, for someone who'd actually made it into the top 50 of the batch he wasn't half as bad as Ishida thought. The idiot actually figured out part of the blunder Ishida had made in using that particular phrasing. Ishida decided that to recover the lapse it was best to rub the Shinigami's pride raw. Ishida said, "Does it sound like anything else?" As he expected the Shinigami totally forgot about the point he'd just made and instead focused on the insinuation of stupidity.
Still huffing and quite incensed, Ichigo settled down into the couch while Ishida pulled a couple of shot glasses that he'd loaned from one of the bars from the kitchen cabinet as well as a tall bottle of Tequila. These he calmly placed on the table and sat across Ichigo on a separate settee.
When Ichigo reached out a hand to grab the Tequila Ishida swatted it away with a sharp flick. "Are you that impatient to get drunk before I do?"
"No. You'll be the one to get drunk first Ishida."
"Really? You have that much confidence in your drinking abilities?"
"You bet," Ichigo said.
So far everything was going according to how he'd played out the scenario all those late nights while waiting for this day. It was now or never. Ishida leaned forward to make sure he had the Shinigami's full attention.
"Well then....How about a bet? We'll both down as many glasses as you set. If I'm unable to, I will accept any consequence you choose to mete out to me. But for every glass I drink after and I am still not yet drunk I will have you remove an article of clothing that I choose." Ishida smirked. "Of course if you don't accept I will assume a defacto win."
Ishida waited a little more. He'd already waited for more than a week to get to this point so waiting a few more minutes for the other boy to process what he said was nothing much. He likewise chose to remain silent knowing that if he prodded and incensed the Shinigami any more, rather than having the bet, they'd end up in blows. From where he sat he could almost see the thoughts flashing through the orange head. He'd say yes and set a rather high number--one which he would easily clear because it would be right below the number of shots he could take before he himself became drunk. He wouldn't set something low because, if he did, he would think that Ishida would think that that measly number was his own personal limit.
When the Shinigami finally looked up at Ishida he knew he had the orange-head. But he didn't show his satisfaction when Ichigo said, "Ok. 10 shots then."
Nodding, Ishida uncapped the bottle and poured. Of course, he had no plans of crashing before Ichigo did. In fact, he'd made provisions precisely so that that wouldn't happen. He'd learned from one of the bar waiters that there was a pill you could take to deaden the effect of alcohol. It didn't completely nullify it but at least it made you last longer than you normally could. Of course, the bar waiter couldn't understand why someone would make a pill like that. In his experience all the people who'd come into the bar had wanted to get drunk and get drunk fast. Ishida did not disabuse him of his ideas. After all he was drinking not to drown his sorrows but for a completely different reason--a reason that involved a naked and completely vulnerable Kurosaki Ichigo.
One down. Two down. Then three. They talked about inconsequential matters. The school. The weather. They argued. It helped to let the alcohol get into their heads. Four. Five. A slight flush crept into their cheeks. Six. Seven. The flush became more pronounced. Eight. Nine. The pill was effective. Ishida felt lightweight but nowhere near drunk. Neither of their voices were as of yet slurred. He noticed the sullen way in which Ichigo looked at the last shot glass. Tough luck Shinigami. Knowing his victory was imminent and the fun he'd planned was about to start, Ishida reached out to take his glass as Ichigo did the same.
Ten.
"It looks like I win, Kurosaki. Remember, for each shot I down you will remove one article of clothing I choose," Ishida reminded.
When Ichigo tried to protest Ishida retorted, "Are you a man or a wimp?" That shut him up and with a nod Ichigo indicated that he was ready.
After having planned things this far, Ishida took a perverse pleasure in prolonging the embarrassment he could feel emanating from Ichigo like heat waves. First, the jacket.
"You know, you really don't look good in that jacket," Ishida said as Ichigo began to remove the battered leather concoction that he wore.
Ichigo frowned. "Not that you'd care Ishida."
Ishida smiled, but his voice betrayed his sarcasm. "You're right. I don't."
Now, the shirt.
Ishida addressed Ichigo again. "Maybe you should stop visiting arcades too often. You'll rot whatever brains you have left."
"Is this an inquisition Ishida? Are you going to point out each and every fault you find?"
"I didn't know you even knew what the word 'inquisition' meant...let alone use it."
A vein seemed to pulse on Ichigo's temple. "Shut up, Ishida." He was clearly pissed.
The belt. Then the pants.
Ichigo reached down to comply but the increased flush in his cheeks told Ishida that no matter how inebriated or not Ichigo was the gravity of his situation was beginning to dawn on him. And the more embarrassed Ichigo became the more potent in turn the alcohol he'd already drunk likewise became.
It was fun teasing the Shinigami this far but now it was time to get serious. All that remained of Ichigo's dignity was the blue of his briefs. Ishida knew he himself wouldn't last much longer either. He could already feel the beginnings of tipsiness. But he had no plans of letting Ichigo know that. He wanted complete dominance over the Shinigami. There was no room for weakness on his part.
"Well Kurosaki, I think you can guess what I want you to remove."
The flush began to tinge the Shinigami's ears as well. He nodded but said nothing. Ishida knew the Shinigami had no plans of showing him any more weakness. But the second after Ichigo pulled that last article of clothing off Ishida realized the flush had been more than any mere embarrassment caused by being stripped naked.
Ichigo's cock was hard.
The Shinigami had been aroused by what Ishida had put him through.
"Well. Well. Well. What can you say for yourself?" Ishida eyed Ichigo's hardness with a raised eyebrow. This was better than what'd he'd expected.
Not waiting for an answer Ishida continued, "Well we can't have you going home with an erection can we? Otherwise the police will arrest you thinking you're a rapist. I wouldn't want to be in the same school, much less the same class, as someone who'd been arrested as a rapist--even if only on unproven charges."
Moving forward before Ichigo could protest Ishida gripped the hard length of Ichigo's member and whispered into the Shinigami's ear, "Why don't I help you deal with that?"
Slowly at first Ishida began to pump at Ichigo's cock. The motion elicited guttural moans from the Shinigami urging him to continue, to go faster. But he resisted the temptation. He wanted Ichigo to beg him, to plead for release. He wanted complete domination of the brash, brave idiot--this idiot who had somehow or another dominated his own thoughts and his desires.
"I-Ishida---ah." It hadn't been long since they started.
"What is it Kurosaki?"
"Ah. I-Ishida-a. Ah. Please...aaah."
Both panted. Hard.
Ishida feigned ignorance. "Please what, Kurosaki?"
"Ah. Ah. Let...ah...me...ah ah...come!"
Ishida smirked. "Then pleasure me, Kurosaki."
Ichigo reached for Ishida's pants. After a minute or two of clumsy tugging, Ichigo pulled out Ishida's own hard cock and, mimicking the movements Ishida was applying on his, began to pump. The feel of Ichigo's large warm palms on him was more than Ishida had ever imagined it would be. After a few pumps Ishida ordered Ichigo to stop.
"Now I want you to get me ready."
"Ready?" The puzzlement in Ichigo's half-lidded eyes told Ishida he'd never done this sort of thing before--even to himself.
Pulling one of Ichigo's hands to him, balling it into a fist with three fingers raised, Ishida sucked. When the fingers had been coated with enough saliva he guided the hand down to the entrance of his behind. With a slight pressure on the wrist Ishida pushed Ichigo's fingers into his hole and began to make circular movements. Even through his own fog of lust Ichigo understood what Ishida wanted. When Ishida felt Ichigo begin to move his fingers by himself, he released the hold he had on the Shinigami.
"There is a small nub in there. I want you to find it and rub it," Ishida instructed. Even if the idiot had not paid attention to any of of their science classes he could surely find the prostate by himself even if it meant a lot of groping--and a lot of painful pleasure on Ishida's part. Surprisingly, the Shinigami found the spot pretty quickly. With a soft scratchy rub, Ishida felt his back arch in pleasure.
After another rub Ishida judged that he'd been prepared enough and with a rough shove pushed Ichigo down to the floor. Hoisting himself over the prone Shinigami he said, "Ittadakimasu" before plunging the orange-head's throbbing cock into his quivering hole and riding the Shinigami into mutual release.
The bright light that began to flood the room alerted Ishida that it was morning. Stifling a groan he lifted himself off the floor and away from the tangle of arms and legs that was Ichigo. The idiot continued to sleep, mouth open, where the two of them had fallen asleep during the night from the combined effect of sexual satiation and alcohol.
He expected an outburst and would have been sorely disappointed if there had been none. It came later when he returned from having showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes.
When he came into the room he found Ichigo seated. He had propped himself up and now sat cross-legged on what looked to be the idiot's own shirt. He was still completely naked. Ichigo stared back at him without understanding. "What happened, Ishida?" he asked.
Ishida decided the straightforward method was the best. Facing Ichigo with a completely serious look he said, "We drank and had sex."
"What?!"
Ishida sighed. Apparently the amount of Tequila the idiot had drunk had been enough to send him into a drink-induced amnesia. "Deduce it for yourself, idiot. What else could it be when you wake up on the floor completely naked with the strewn remains of your clothes stained with semen?"
For the second time in twenty-four hours Ishida waited as Ichigo processed the information--only this time with what was surely a throbbing hang-over which likewise made Ishida irritable. But he knew what Ichigo would say even before the Shinigami opened his mouth.
"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to...you know..."
Ishida sighed. "Forget it." He already knew that the whole affair would be nothing more than a one-night stand. He knew that thereafter Ichigo would probably avoid being too near Ishida lest something similar happen. He would be afraid of hurting Ishida again--even though the idiot had no idea that it was Ishida who had done the seducing, had been the one who forced a clearly inexperienced Ichigo into the act. Once--once was enough. The less that the idiot remembered the better it was for his Quincy pride.
But the words Ichigo uttered after were totally unexpected.
The Shinigami said, "But I think I want to do it again...with you.... Even if I can't remember much at least this much I know. Whatever it was that happened last night...it was really good and...it was the best night I've had in a long time."
Ishida was incredulous. "Are you seriously proposing to me, Kurosaki?"
Ichigo blushed, whether from embarrassment or from something else Ishida did not bother to determine. He said, "Take it however you want it."
Ishida smiled, walked up to where Ichigo sat, bent, and gave the Shinigami a soft kiss on the lips. "Then I will," he said.
Author: alstair
Pairing: Ichigo x Ishida Uryuu
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: some boysex, some fetish
Summary: Ishida makes a bet with Ichigo where whoever loses must accept a certain punishment.
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach and the characters of Bleach
Yet another lighter fic. Seriously, I'm starting to love a scheming Ishida.
~
Ishida had been counting on Ichigo's unwillingness to lose to him. He was not disappointed. It was so easy to bait the idiot he almost felt sorry except this was Ichigo he was talking about and it was he, Ishida, who had done the baiting. The Shinigami had always been quick to pick a fight with him, quick to anger at the merest mention of the Shinigami's lack of planning and caution which, if the others only weren't so quick to sing his praises, would have found to be as glaringly obvious as it was to him. With an inward sigh he wondered how the fool had managed to survive until then.
But it wasn't as though the impetuosity of Ichigo was totally repellant to him. If he were to be honest about it, it was precisely because Ichigo was who he was--earnest to a fault, impulsive but brave, and intensely loyal--that first made Ishida consider the Shinigami. He was so--different--from Ishida. Heaven and earth as it were. Or Fire as opposed to water. And this was why when he had insinuated that he could hold his liquor better than Ichigo the latter immediately leapt at the chance to prove the Quincy wrong.
Of course Ishida knew just how much tolerance the Shinigami had to alcohol. It doesn't take a genius to silently bribe the bar waiters to tattle--only someone resourceful enough. These men knew much more than they let on, or than their customers had any inkling of. After seeing all manner of men, and occasionally women, sit on the bar stools and down glass after glass of the bar's various cocktails, they could pretty much tell the tipping point of any one customer after having only served them once. Nor was it supremely difficult to track the movements of the Shinigami, even when those weren't related to hollow extermination, when the Shinigami in question literally leaked reiatsu like a faulty hose all over the place.
Walking beside Ishida, Ichigo frowned, his hands stuck in his pockets. Just his luck, the Shinigami was getting impatient. From all indications the orange-head had no concept of the word wait. Of course, that was just par for the course for Ichigo.
"Will you just shut up Kurosaki? If you continue to whine I'll take that as an indication that you're scared that I'll find out just how badly you hold your liquor," Ishida said.
Ichigo huffed but did not say another word. He'd wounded the Shinigami's pride and ego but he already knew that. But when it came to Ichigo he just couldn't help but needle the Shinigami even more and try to punch more sense into the orange head. Today, however, his words had a double purpose. He wanted--he needed--an easily riled Ichigo. He needed an Ichigo who, when he finally laid his cards down, had already been worked to such a fit that backing out would be completely out of the question.
Slowly he led the Shinigami to his apartment, taking his time to let the Shinigami fret in the irritation that tinged his reiatsu with a distinct scratchy tang whenever it grated against Ishida's skin. Not only did he purposely take the longer route home but also took his time looking for the keys in his bag, even though he knew perfectly well where they were. Any intelligent individual, knowing Ishida was perfectly organized, would have known that for Ishida to not know precisely where his keys were was nothing short of a farce on Ishida's part. Ichigo however showed no signs of having registered the contradiction. It figured, dense as Ichigo was.
"Make yourself at home," Ishida said to the Shinigami as he closed the front door shut. Without waiting for any further invitation Ichigo headed for the black sofa in the living area.
"So is this something you sewed as well Ishida?" Ichigo pointed to the table runner from where he was seated.
"And if so? What does that matter to you?"
Ichigo pouted like a kid who was hurt. "Well Mr. I'm-so-Fucking-Untouchable it wouldn't hurt to let up a bit wouldn't it?"
Ishida retorted. "If you weren't as nosy as you are maybe I would!"
"I am NOT nosy. I'm being POLITE," Ichigo replied. He paused. "Wait...." Ichigo's brows creased again. However it was not from anger but from confusion. "...did you just imply that if I bugged you less you would be friendlier to me?"
Well, well, for someone who'd actually made it into the top 50 of the batch he wasn't half as bad as Ishida thought. The idiot actually figured out part of the blunder Ishida had made in using that particular phrasing. Ishida decided that to recover the lapse it was best to rub the Shinigami's pride raw. Ishida said, "Does it sound like anything else?" As he expected the Shinigami totally forgot about the point he'd just made and instead focused on the insinuation of stupidity.
Still huffing and quite incensed, Ichigo settled down into the couch while Ishida pulled a couple of shot glasses that he'd loaned from one of the bars from the kitchen cabinet as well as a tall bottle of Tequila. These he calmly placed on the table and sat across Ichigo on a separate settee.
When Ichigo reached out a hand to grab the Tequila Ishida swatted it away with a sharp flick. "Are you that impatient to get drunk before I do?"
"No. You'll be the one to get drunk first Ishida."
"Really? You have that much confidence in your drinking abilities?"
"You bet," Ichigo said.
So far everything was going according to how he'd played out the scenario all those late nights while waiting for this day. It was now or never. Ishida leaned forward to make sure he had the Shinigami's full attention.
"Well then....How about a bet? We'll both down as many glasses as you set. If I'm unable to, I will accept any consequence you choose to mete out to me. But for every glass I drink after and I am still not yet drunk I will have you remove an article of clothing that I choose." Ishida smirked. "Of course if you don't accept I will assume a defacto win."
Ishida waited a little more. He'd already waited for more than a week to get to this point so waiting a few more minutes for the other boy to process what he said was nothing much. He likewise chose to remain silent knowing that if he prodded and incensed the Shinigami any more, rather than having the bet, they'd end up in blows. From where he sat he could almost see the thoughts flashing through the orange head. He'd say yes and set a rather high number--one which he would easily clear because it would be right below the number of shots he could take before he himself became drunk. He wouldn't set something low because, if he did, he would think that Ishida would think that that measly number was his own personal limit.
When the Shinigami finally looked up at Ishida he knew he had the orange-head. But he didn't show his satisfaction when Ichigo said, "Ok. 10 shots then."
Nodding, Ishida uncapped the bottle and poured. Of course, he had no plans of crashing before Ichigo did. In fact, he'd made provisions precisely so that that wouldn't happen. He'd learned from one of the bar waiters that there was a pill you could take to deaden the effect of alcohol. It didn't completely nullify it but at least it made you last longer than you normally could. Of course, the bar waiter couldn't understand why someone would make a pill like that. In his experience all the people who'd come into the bar had wanted to get drunk and get drunk fast. Ishida did not disabuse him of his ideas. After all he was drinking not to drown his sorrows but for a completely different reason--a reason that involved a naked and completely vulnerable Kurosaki Ichigo.
One down. Two down. Then three. They talked about inconsequential matters. The school. The weather. They argued. It helped to let the alcohol get into their heads. Four. Five. A slight flush crept into their cheeks. Six. Seven. The flush became more pronounced. Eight. Nine. The pill was effective. Ishida felt lightweight but nowhere near drunk. Neither of their voices were as of yet slurred. He noticed the sullen way in which Ichigo looked at the last shot glass. Tough luck Shinigami. Knowing his victory was imminent and the fun he'd planned was about to start, Ishida reached out to take his glass as Ichigo did the same.
Ten.
"It looks like I win, Kurosaki. Remember, for each shot I down you will remove one article of clothing I choose," Ishida reminded.
When Ichigo tried to protest Ishida retorted, "Are you a man or a wimp?" That shut him up and with a nod Ichigo indicated that he was ready.
After having planned things this far, Ishida took a perverse pleasure in prolonging the embarrassment he could feel emanating from Ichigo like heat waves. First, the jacket.
"You know, you really don't look good in that jacket," Ishida said as Ichigo began to remove the battered leather concoction that he wore.
Ichigo frowned. "Not that you'd care Ishida."
Ishida smiled, but his voice betrayed his sarcasm. "You're right. I don't."
Now, the shirt.
Ishida addressed Ichigo again. "Maybe you should stop visiting arcades too often. You'll rot whatever brains you have left."
"Is this an inquisition Ishida? Are you going to point out each and every fault you find?"
"I didn't know you even knew what the word 'inquisition' meant...let alone use it."
A vein seemed to pulse on Ichigo's temple. "Shut up, Ishida." He was clearly pissed.
The belt. Then the pants.
Ichigo reached down to comply but the increased flush in his cheeks told Ishida that no matter how inebriated or not Ichigo was the gravity of his situation was beginning to dawn on him. And the more embarrassed Ichigo became the more potent in turn the alcohol he'd already drunk likewise became.
It was fun teasing the Shinigami this far but now it was time to get serious. All that remained of Ichigo's dignity was the blue of his briefs. Ishida knew he himself wouldn't last much longer either. He could already feel the beginnings of tipsiness. But he had no plans of letting Ichigo know that. He wanted complete dominance over the Shinigami. There was no room for weakness on his part.
"Well Kurosaki, I think you can guess what I want you to remove."
The flush began to tinge the Shinigami's ears as well. He nodded but said nothing. Ishida knew the Shinigami had no plans of showing him any more weakness. But the second after Ichigo pulled that last article of clothing off Ishida realized the flush had been more than any mere embarrassment caused by being stripped naked.
Ichigo's cock was hard.
The Shinigami had been aroused by what Ishida had put him through.
"Well. Well. Well. What can you say for yourself?" Ishida eyed Ichigo's hardness with a raised eyebrow. This was better than what'd he'd expected.
Not waiting for an answer Ishida continued, "Well we can't have you going home with an erection can we? Otherwise the police will arrest you thinking you're a rapist. I wouldn't want to be in the same school, much less the same class, as someone who'd been arrested as a rapist--even if only on unproven charges."
Moving forward before Ichigo could protest Ishida gripped the hard length of Ichigo's member and whispered into the Shinigami's ear, "Why don't I help you deal with that?"
Slowly at first Ishida began to pump at Ichigo's cock. The motion elicited guttural moans from the Shinigami urging him to continue, to go faster. But he resisted the temptation. He wanted Ichigo to beg him, to plead for release. He wanted complete domination of the brash, brave idiot--this idiot who had somehow or another dominated his own thoughts and his desires.
"I-Ishida---ah." It hadn't been long since they started.
"What is it Kurosaki?"
"Ah. I-Ishida-a. Ah. Please...aaah."
Both panted. Hard.
Ishida feigned ignorance. "Please what, Kurosaki?"
"Ah. Ah. Let...ah...me...ah ah...come!"
Ishida smirked. "Then pleasure me, Kurosaki."
Ichigo reached for Ishida's pants. After a minute or two of clumsy tugging, Ichigo pulled out Ishida's own hard cock and, mimicking the movements Ishida was applying on his, began to pump. The feel of Ichigo's large warm palms on him was more than Ishida had ever imagined it would be. After a few pumps Ishida ordered Ichigo to stop.
"Now I want you to get me ready."
"Ready?" The puzzlement in Ichigo's half-lidded eyes told Ishida he'd never done this sort of thing before--even to himself.
Pulling one of Ichigo's hands to him, balling it into a fist with three fingers raised, Ishida sucked. When the fingers had been coated with enough saliva he guided the hand down to the entrance of his behind. With a slight pressure on the wrist Ishida pushed Ichigo's fingers into his hole and began to make circular movements. Even through his own fog of lust Ichigo understood what Ishida wanted. When Ishida felt Ichigo begin to move his fingers by himself, he released the hold he had on the Shinigami.
"There is a small nub in there. I want you to find it and rub it," Ishida instructed. Even if the idiot had not paid attention to any of of their science classes he could surely find the prostate by himself even if it meant a lot of groping--and a lot of painful pleasure on Ishida's part. Surprisingly, the Shinigami found the spot pretty quickly. With a soft scratchy rub, Ishida felt his back arch in pleasure.
After another rub Ishida judged that he'd been prepared enough and with a rough shove pushed Ichigo down to the floor. Hoisting himself over the prone Shinigami he said, "Ittadakimasu" before plunging the orange-head's throbbing cock into his quivering hole and riding the Shinigami into mutual release.
The bright light that began to flood the room alerted Ishida that it was morning. Stifling a groan he lifted himself off the floor and away from the tangle of arms and legs that was Ichigo. The idiot continued to sleep, mouth open, where the two of them had fallen asleep during the night from the combined effect of sexual satiation and alcohol.
He expected an outburst and would have been sorely disappointed if there had been none. It came later when he returned from having showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes.
When he came into the room he found Ichigo seated. He had propped himself up and now sat cross-legged on what looked to be the idiot's own shirt. He was still completely naked. Ichigo stared back at him without understanding. "What happened, Ishida?" he asked.
Ishida decided the straightforward method was the best. Facing Ichigo with a completely serious look he said, "We drank and had sex."
"What?!"
Ishida sighed. Apparently the amount of Tequila the idiot had drunk had been enough to send him into a drink-induced amnesia. "Deduce it for yourself, idiot. What else could it be when you wake up on the floor completely naked with the strewn remains of your clothes stained with semen?"
For the second time in twenty-four hours Ishida waited as Ichigo processed the information--only this time with what was surely a throbbing hang-over which likewise made Ishida irritable. But he knew what Ichigo would say even before the Shinigami opened his mouth.
"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to...you know..."
Ishida sighed. "Forget it." He already knew that the whole affair would be nothing more than a one-night stand. He knew that thereafter Ichigo would probably avoid being too near Ishida lest something similar happen. He would be afraid of hurting Ishida again--even though the idiot had no idea that it was Ishida who had done the seducing, had been the one who forced a clearly inexperienced Ichigo into the act. Once--once was enough. The less that the idiot remembered the better it was for his Quincy pride.
But the words Ichigo uttered after were totally unexpected.
The Shinigami said, "But I think I want to do it again...with you.... Even if I can't remember much at least this much I know. Whatever it was that happened last night...it was really good and...it was the best night I've had in a long time."
Ishida was incredulous. "Are you seriously proposing to me, Kurosaki?"
Ichigo blushed, whether from embarrassment or from something else Ishida did not bother to determine. He said, "Take it however you want it."
Ishida smiled, walked up to where Ichigo sat, bent, and gave the Shinigami a soft kiss on the lips. "Then I will," he said.