electric
title. electric
prompt. itch
pairing. Ichigo, Orihime
rating. K
disclaimer. applied - Bleach, Ichigo, Orihime belong to Kubo Tite.
for. Hali Challenge 2010 here
“Oi, what’s wrong?” Ichigo asks, frowning at Orihime who fidgets in her seat.
Orihime blinks and places her hands on her lap, stiffening her spine. “Nothing!” she chirps, smiling brightly. His frown deepens, his eyes narrowing. Orihime smiles sweetly, eyeing him innocently.
“Alright…” he shrugs and goes back to answering math problems. Two problems later, he looks up and finds Orihime squirming, reaching behind her, back arched which pushes her generous bosom forward. He stifles a groan, admonishing himself for liking the image of Inoue arching her back.
“Inoue,”
The girl’s head snaps up in reply.
“What are you doing?” he looks at her face - with an effort not to let his gaze drop below her chin. She wears an uncomfortable and slightly aggravated expression. “What’s wrong? You’re…” He steals a quick glance to her chest, which later he swears an accident, “distracting me.”
“Oh.” Orihime slowly retracts her hand and smiles sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I -”
“I forgive you.” She beams at him and the corner of his mouth lifts slightly to favor her with a slow, very small smile. “But can you tell me what’s wrong with you?”
Her brows furrow in a small frown. “It’s…” The frown deepens and she reaches behind her again. “It’s itchy.” She pouts her pink lips, her frown sharpening into a look of deep concentration. “But I can’t reach. My fingers aren’t long enough.”
While she seethes gently, she changes the position of her arm, lifting it and reaching over her right shoulder. For a full minute, Ichigo watches her squirm, reach and twist with raised eyebrows. And then, he sighs sharply and drops his mechanical pencil.
“Fine,” he stands up from his chair from the other side of Orihime’s desk and walks around it to stand beside Orihime.
“Eh?” she is looking up to him, lips slightly parted.
He gestures with his hand. “Turn around,” Orihime raises a brow. “Come on, face the other way.”
She flushes shyly, finally understanding the sudden turn of event. “But…”
“It’s alright. Come on,” He takes both of her shoulders in his hands and gently nudges her to move. Shyly and hesitantly, Orihime shifts and faces the window, her back facing Ichigo. The boy drags another chair and sits down behind Orihime.
He touches her shoulder first so as not to startle her; he gathers her thick hair in one hand and drapes it over her shoulder before slowly moving his hand down.
“Is it here?” asks Ichigo, the tips of his fingers resting above the clasp of her bra.
“Um, lower, please, then to the right - oh, right there!”
He hears the girl sigh contently, her body relaxing as he starts to scratch. Several minutes later, he bends forward and whispers behind her ear. “Inoue,” He feels her stiffen, and he knows without looking at her face that she is blushing. “Still itchy?” his fingers are tracing the border of the back strap her bra.
Orihime nods her head sharply. “H-Hai!”
His fingers stop. “Alright,” He lowers his hand to the waistline of her skirt. Orihime looks over her shoulder. He stares right at her calmly.
“K-Kurosaki-kun…! What are y-you - !?” She stops abruptly, eyes widening when he finally pulls the hem of her school blouse free from the waistband of her skirt. Her surprised gasp fills his ear when he touches the bare skin of her back.
“This is easier, right?” he is saying in an even tone, dark eyes looking right into her. Orihime quickly turns away with a squeak. Ichigo feels the corner of his mouth twitching in a small grin.
As for Orihime, she is hyperventilating in mixed surprise, delight and embarrassment. K-Kurosaki-kun is touching… my b-back! She squeezes her eyes shut and bites her lip to contain herself. Despite their dating status, they have never tried to touch each other. Oh, there are small gestures like touching the small of her back and patting her head, touching her elbow when they cross the street and tapping her shoulder. All those touches are short and fleeting. In fact, the only part of her that he has touched the longest is the ends of her hair, and sometimes, the tips of her fingers.
“Inoue?”
She jumps. “H-h-hai?”
“What’s wrong? You sound odd,”
This is odd, she thinks. “I’m fine!” She chirps quickly.
“So, is it here?”
“Umm…” She gulps shakily.
“Or here?”
Blushing furiously, she answers, “Um, h-higher, please,”
His fingers travel upwards and she swears her skin tingles. “…here?” He asks and in response, her toes curl and she balls her hands in small fists.
“Yes…” she says softly, eyes glazed over. His blunt nails gently scrape her soft skin, sending electrical current all over her body.
For Ichigo’s part, he could not believe that he has a nerve to touch her like this. He asks her out a couple of months ago, but despite of the fact they are already open with their feelings for each other, he has never tried to cross the thin line of boundary between them. He respects her dearly, and most of all, he does not want Orihime to think that he is after physical intimacies. Though he is sure Orihime would not think lowly of him, he still worries he might scare her. Certainly, there are instances when his curiosity is piqued… after all; Orihime is beautiful, very beautiful. However, he would not let his curiosity ruin their relationship.
He raises a brow when he hears her sigh and slightly leans to his touch. He places his other hand on her shoulder and gently massages the muscles there. His scratching fingers slowly trace her spine and he feels her shiver, a small, very quiet moan escaping her lips.
His lower lip curls in a smile. He leans forward to whisper behind her ear, “Orihime.”
The effect is instantaneous; Orihime straightens in her seat with a squeak. His smirk grows into a small grin.
“Still itchy?” he asks in a tone he hopes is neutral.
“N-No! It’s o-o-okay! Thank you!”
He retracts his hand from under her shirt. Orihime glances shyly over her shoulder; Ichigo grabs the opportunity and kisses her cheek.
“You’re welcome.” Ichigo murmurs against her cheek before standing up and returning to his seat.
prompt. itch
pairing. Ichigo, Orihime
rating. K
disclaimer. applied - Bleach, Ichigo, Orihime belong to Kubo Tite.
for. Hali Challenge 2010 here
“Oi, what’s wrong?” Ichigo asks, frowning at Orihime who fidgets in her seat.
Orihime blinks and places her hands on her lap, stiffening her spine. “Nothing!” she chirps, smiling brightly. His frown deepens, his eyes narrowing. Orihime smiles sweetly, eyeing him innocently.
“Alright…” he shrugs and goes back to answering math problems. Two problems later, he looks up and finds Orihime squirming, reaching behind her, back arched which pushes her generous bosom forward. He stifles a groan, admonishing himself for liking the image of Inoue arching her back.
“Inoue,”
The girl’s head snaps up in reply.
“What are you doing?” he looks at her face - with an effort not to let his gaze drop below her chin. She wears an uncomfortable and slightly aggravated expression. “What’s wrong? You’re…” He steals a quick glance to her chest, which later he swears an accident, “distracting me.”
“Oh.” Orihime slowly retracts her hand and smiles sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I -”
“I forgive you.” She beams at him and the corner of his mouth lifts slightly to favor her with a slow, very small smile. “But can you tell me what’s wrong with you?”
Her brows furrow in a small frown. “It’s…” The frown deepens and she reaches behind her again. “It’s itchy.” She pouts her pink lips, her frown sharpening into a look of deep concentration. “But I can’t reach. My fingers aren’t long enough.”
While she seethes gently, she changes the position of her arm, lifting it and reaching over her right shoulder. For a full minute, Ichigo watches her squirm, reach and twist with raised eyebrows. And then, he sighs sharply and drops his mechanical pencil.
“Fine,” he stands up from his chair from the other side of Orihime’s desk and walks around it to stand beside Orihime.
“Eh?” she is looking up to him, lips slightly parted.
He gestures with his hand. “Turn around,” Orihime raises a brow. “Come on, face the other way.”
She flushes shyly, finally understanding the sudden turn of event. “But…”
“It’s alright. Come on,” He takes both of her shoulders in his hands and gently nudges her to move. Shyly and hesitantly, Orihime shifts and faces the window, her back facing Ichigo. The boy drags another chair and sits down behind Orihime.
He touches her shoulder first so as not to startle her; he gathers her thick hair in one hand and drapes it over her shoulder before slowly moving his hand down.
“Is it here?” asks Ichigo, the tips of his fingers resting above the clasp of her bra.
“Um, lower, please, then to the right - oh, right there!”
He hears the girl sigh contently, her body relaxing as he starts to scratch. Several minutes later, he bends forward and whispers behind her ear. “Inoue,” He feels her stiffen, and he knows without looking at her face that she is blushing. “Still itchy?” his fingers are tracing the border of the back strap her bra.
Orihime nods her head sharply. “H-Hai!”
His fingers stop. “Alright,” He lowers his hand to the waistline of her skirt. Orihime looks over her shoulder. He stares right at her calmly.
“K-Kurosaki-kun…! What are y-you - !?” She stops abruptly, eyes widening when he finally pulls the hem of her school blouse free from the waistband of her skirt. Her surprised gasp fills his ear when he touches the bare skin of her back.
“This is easier, right?” he is saying in an even tone, dark eyes looking right into her. Orihime quickly turns away with a squeak. Ichigo feels the corner of his mouth twitching in a small grin.
As for Orihime, she is hyperventilating in mixed surprise, delight and embarrassment. K-Kurosaki-kun is touching… my b-back! She squeezes her eyes shut and bites her lip to contain herself. Despite their dating status, they have never tried to touch each other. Oh, there are small gestures like touching the small of her back and patting her head, touching her elbow when they cross the street and tapping her shoulder. All those touches are short and fleeting. In fact, the only part of her that he has touched the longest is the ends of her hair, and sometimes, the tips of her fingers.
“Inoue?”
She jumps. “H-h-hai?”
“What’s wrong? You sound odd,”
This is odd, she thinks. “I’m fine!” She chirps quickly.
“So, is it here?”
“Umm…” She gulps shakily.
“Or here?”
Blushing furiously, she answers, “Um, h-higher, please,”
His fingers travel upwards and she swears her skin tingles. “…here?” He asks and in response, her toes curl and she balls her hands in small fists.
“Yes…” she says softly, eyes glazed over. His blunt nails gently scrape her soft skin, sending electrical current all over her body.
For Ichigo’s part, he could not believe that he has a nerve to touch her like this. He asks her out a couple of months ago, but despite of the fact they are already open with their feelings for each other, he has never tried to cross the thin line of boundary between them. He respects her dearly, and most of all, he does not want Orihime to think that he is after physical intimacies. Though he is sure Orihime would not think lowly of him, he still worries he might scare her. Certainly, there are instances when his curiosity is piqued… after all; Orihime is beautiful, very beautiful. However, he would not let his curiosity ruin their relationship.
He raises a brow when he hears her sigh and slightly leans to his touch. He places his other hand on her shoulder and gently massages the muscles there. His scratching fingers slowly trace her spine and he feels her shiver, a small, very quiet moan escaping her lips.
His lower lip curls in a smile. He leans forward to whisper behind her ear, “Orihime.”
The effect is instantaneous; Orihime straightens in her seat with a squeak. His smirk grows into a small grin.
“Still itchy?” he asks in a tone he hopes is neutral.
“N-No! It’s o-o-okay! Thank you!”
He retracts his hand from under her shirt. Orihime glances shyly over her shoulder; Ichigo grabs the opportunity and kisses her cheek.
“You’re welcome.” Ichigo murmurs against her cheek before standing up and returning to his seat.