Caught, Part One
Title: Caught (Part 1 of 2)
Pairing: Ikkaku/Kira
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Yaoi, boys kissing
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. All the characters are older than 18.
Caught
Kira isn't sure what Ikkaku does while Yumichika is away. The feathered Shinigami has been on an assignment in the real world for just under a week, and it's been just under a week since Ikkaku has joined his friends for a drink after work. It's not that big of a deal, since everyone seems to be wrapped up in their own business, but Kira can't help but worry. He worries, partly because it is his nature to worry, and partly because he knows what it is like to go home to an empty room and an empty bed.
It is this line of thought that lead the blond fukutaichou to Ikkaku's home this evening. He's not quite sure how he ended up here, since this is not a section of Seireitei that he usually frequents, but he supposes that it doesn't really matter. What matters is that he's here, now, staring at the dark windows of the house in front of him and wondering if he should go up to knock on the door. He reaches out with a trickle of reiatsu, letting Ikkaku know that he is here.
Bold, yet subdued energy answers Kira's own, signaling that the third seat is not inside of the house, but behind it. Izuru swallows his hesitance and walks around, peering around the corner to find Ikkaku standing on the small porch in the back. Stepping up onto the wooden flooring, he comes to a halt behind the bald man and inclines his head.
"Good evening, Ikkaku-san," he says, his voice just above a whisper.
Ikkaku grunts and looks at him out of the corner of a slanty eye. "Don't call me that. You outrank me now, remember?"
Kira smiles and ducks behind his bangs, concealing a soft blush. "But you'll always be older and stronger."
"Mm." There's a hint of amusement on the other's voice. "Still, I ain't fond of all those formalities. It's Ikkaku, and you should know that by now."
The blond's smile widens. He does know, but habit is habit and respect for his elders is something that Kira will never unlearn. But still, the brief exchange of words was enough to ease away the nervousness that he had been feeling. "I... just wanted to see how you were."
There is a pause, followed by a snort from the older man. "You mean you wanted to see if I'm withering away with loneliness now that Yumi's gone."
Another smile. True, that is part of the reason for his coming, but it isn’t only that. Concern for a friend, yes, but the truth is that he often craves another's company, as well. "That's part of it," he admits, tilting his head. "But not all. Am I not allowed to stop to say hello to a friend?"
"Not if you don't bring sake," Ikkaku replies, his voice clearly showing that he is kidding... maybe.
Izuru's blush returns and he grins sheepishly. He should have known better than to show up empty handed, but it hadn't exactly been his intention to come here when he had started walking home. Besides, he figures that Ikkaku is in no dire need of alcohol - the cupboards in this house are never, ever empty.
This house... Kira turns and looks inside through the open door, a brief feeling of sadness washing over him at the silence and emptiness that have settled over the usually bright and cheerful room. He wonders if that is why Ikkaku is standing out here, with the cicadas and the moon for company, instead of inside where all that is left is the faint memory of Yumichika's presence. It is all too familiar to him, the need to escape a place with so many memories, memories that only grow stronger as time goes by. He knows, too well, what it is like to cling to the lingering scent of a lover and wonder what they are doing... knowing that they are somewhere else.
He shrugs away the unpleasant feeling and tries to smile. At least Yumichika will return, someday, and he is glad for Ikkaku. Everyone knows how deep the bond is between the two Eleventh Division Shinigami, and everyone knows how much they both must be hurting in each other's absence. Kira knows, perhaps more than most, that loneliness is an awful thing that can only be cured with friendship and laughter. He wonders if he could make Ikkaku laugh...
"I'm sure that Ayasegawa-san is missing you, as well," he says, hoping that his smile isn't as strained as it feels.
The other man rubs his neck and appears to think for a moment. "Maybe, but he has Shuu there with him."
Kira blinks. He knew that Shuuhei had been assigned to same mission as Yumichika, but... There's something in that statement that makes him wonder. He's not sure if he wants to ask, not sure if he wants to know. He decides that he doesn't.
"We've missed you these past few days. Abari-kun has saved you a seat and a bottle of sake every night."
"Mm. I suppose I haven't really been in the mood to drink, lately."
That remark shows exactly how out of sorts Ikkaku really is. Kira's eyes widen as he tilts his head and observes the older man with more interest. For the bald Shinigami to not feel like drinking...
"Are you sure you're okay, Ikkaku?" He steps forward and places a hand on the other man's shoulder, wincing slightly when the muscles under his fingers tense.
"I'm fine," Ikkaku replies, turning to catch Kira's wrist in his sword calloused hand. "Why are you so concerned?"
Cheeks burning and eyelids fluttering, the blond inclines his head in apology. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I just..." He dares to look up, meeting Ikkaku's bold gaze with his timid one. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
The wind whistles through the trees and over to where they stand, stirring up the dust at their feet and ruffling their robes. It seems like an eternity flies by, Kira's wrist firmly in Ikkaku's grip, the two men staring at each other through the silvery moonlight. The younger feels the weight of the other's gaze and wants to look away, but refuses to give in and holds the stare.
Finally, Ikkaku sighs and turns his head, staring off at the moon with a pained expression on his face. Izuru isn't quite sure what's going on, but he feels like it's somehow his fault... like he needs to make it better. He stands perfectly still, feeling a bit like Ikkaku's shadow, as they both gaze up at the moon and let the wind dance over their skin.
"Ikkaku," he whispers, unsure of what to even do or say. Stealing a glance out of the corner of his eye, he takes in the older man's face and feels something like butterflies spring to life in his stomach. Before he has a chance to think, he leans forward and presses a kiss to the corner of Ikkaku's down-turned mouth.
The larger man steps back, his eyes wide and a confused look on his face. "Kira?"
Izuru smiles reassuringly and reaches out, sliding his hand over the other's chest until his fingers brush against the bare skin of a muscular neck. He stands on his toes and presses himself against Ikkaku's firm figure, ghosting his breath along the bottom of the jaw above him. "I don't want you to be lonely," he says, flicking his tongue out to taste salty flesh and bringing his lips back to the corner of the other man's. Pulling back, he looks at Ikkaku, letting his eyes ask for permission.
There is another brief pause of silence, before something flares behind Ikkaku's eyes and Kira finds himself pulled in for a kiss that is all yearning and need and fire. He tightens one hand behind his partner's neck and the other in his kimono as he struggles to keep up with the fierce passion of the kiss. His knees quiver and he closes his eyes, opening his mouth to grant Ikkaku's tongue the entrance it's seeking and moaning softly in response. When their lips finally part, he gasps for air and tries to calm his racing heart.
Ikkaku adjusts his weight, grabbing Kira by the waist and pressing him against one of the beams that supports the roof. The blond groans and lets the older man pin his wrists to the rough wood above his head, arching his back and pressing into the body in front of him. Teeth and lips and a slick tongue find the sensitive skin at his neck and he shivers at the sensations they pull from a place inside of him that he had forgotten existed. He hooks his leg around Ikkaku's and uses the leverage to grind their hips together, the movement eliciting growls from them both. The grip on his wrists remains constant, and he presses into it, relishing the feel of being constrained and set free in the same moment. He rests his head against the beam and loses himself in the trails of fire and ice that Ikkaku's rough hands work across his body.
"Ikkaku?"
The voice is not Kira's.
Izuru brings his head up and gapes at the space behind Ikkaku that had been empty just moments before.
The space that is now occupied by none other than... Yumichika.
TBC