Unspeakable, chapter 5
Author: honey_mellon
Title: Unspeakable
Rating: R
Pairing: Urahara Kisuke, Kurosaki Ichigo
Warnings: Nothing you wouldn't expect from an R-rated yaoi fiction
Summary: Eighteen months after the fall of Aizen Sosuke, Ichigo struggles to get used to his new, "normal" life. But it isn't easy to forget, not when you've gone through so much.
COMMUNITY DISCLAIMER: All characters depicted in sexual situations in this post/fanfiction/fanart (including material in the comments) are fictional and are intended to be and considered to be by the author of said material of the legal age of consent in the United States state of California, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from.
Author's Note:
So I did manage to get this chapter done today. My mind's constantly spinning and the muse refused to wait till the weekend. =)
This is where the plot really begins to veer off canon. You'll notice that I kept the Fullbring characters' name along with their personalities (because I don't like making up OCs, hehe). Hope you'll enjoy this chapter.
Urahara blinked as he gradually swam back into consciousness. His body ached. For a while he was confused; what the hell could he have done to be so sore? His arms, especially, felt tired to the bones. Then, with a sudden jolt, he remembered what happened and sat up on the bed with a groan.
Ichigo wasn't next to him-where the boy was last before they fell asleep. He was surprised to feel a stab of disappointment along with a stab of something else; something much more complex. His brows knitted as he tried to sort out his jumbled thoughts, and he kneaded his temples, already feel the beginnings of what promised to be an epic headache.
So the boy had left while he was asleep. He wasn't sure what to make of that; he thought it had gone relatively well, other issues aside. He'd even felt a connection-for a lack of a better term-when he held Ichigo against his body, when they kissed, and especially during their most intimate moments.
It had been a long time since Urahara Kisuke felt so troubled, and that in itself troubled him.
Just as he was going to swing his legs over the side of the bed, he heard muffled sounds of the hair dryer being used. His eyebrows arched even though there was no one there to see it. So Ichigo hadn't left.
Urahara waited, sitting on the edge of his bed, and tried his best to lay out his thoughts. Wonderful, just fucking wonderful. He had just slept with the son of one of his oldest friend, and had enjoyed every second of it. He wished he could feel more disgusted by it, but he didn't, and that scared him.
But he did feel guilty; not so much because the boy was young, or that he was his friend's child, but from the fact that he had known that the boy was emotional when it happened. Who knew what Ichigo was thinking now? For all he knew, the teenager could be regretting it right this moment. Somehow that thought pained him, and his hand went to his temples again.
The hair dryer was turned off, and for a second Urahara dreaded what he would find when that door opened. He didn't have to wait for long to find out.
Ichigo stepped out of the restroom, his hair a sorry sight from his failed attempt at combing it with his fingers. His face was flushed-different from the type of flush that Urahara saw a few hours ago-from the hot shower, and he was wearing the t-shirt that he had arrived in. His jeans-that unbelievably tight contraption-was up to his hips, but the button and zipper were not done up.
"Hey, you're awake," Ichigo said, sounding surprised.
Urahara smiled. "Yes, I tend to do that sometimes," he said dryly. Inwardly he was glad to see that the boy was not upset; it was a good first step.
Ichigo flashed him a scowl. "I couldn't wake you up just now," he huffed. "Believe me, I tried." A grin appeared on his face. "I guess I wore you out."
The blonde grimaced. He supposed he did; Ichigo didn't seem any worse for wear. He gave the boy a quick once-over; for someone who arrived on the verge of depression, he seemed surprisingly upbeat. Was it because of what they did?
"Did you go out to get your clothes?" Urahara asked. He hoped that Tessai and the kids weren't back yet; they usually go out for chores most of Saturday, which was why he hadn't been particularly careful during their activities in the living room. He had no idea how long they'd been asleep, but he hoped it hadn't been too long. It would be rather awkward to have to explain to them why most of Ichigo's clothes and his top were on the living room floor.
Ichigo walked across the room and threw a folded green garment over to the blonde. "No, I was on the way to get it, though, but I found them in a stack outside your door."
Urahara groaned inside, but he didn't say anything. Ichigo didn't seem to have noticed his expression, though; the boy was concentrating on getting his pants done and buckling his belt. Much as he didn't want to ruin the mood, he knew they needed to talk.
"Ichigo..." he began.
The teenager looked up, having finally finished putting his clothes together.
Urahara's voice died in his throat when he looked into those bright brown eyes. Ichigo looked so much better now compared to when he'd broken down just now, and Urahara loathed to put a frown on that face.
"What?" Ichigo asked, raising an eyebrow inquiringly as he walked toward the older man. "I need to head back now, I'm already late for dinner. Yuzu's going to wonder where I am."
The blonde sighed inwardly. Now wasn't the right time, then. This was one conversation that could not and should not be rushed. "Nothing," he said finally. "It can wait."
Ichigo shrugged. For a few seconds they just stared at each other, each trying to guess what the other was thinking. Then, to Urahara's surprise, the boy pulled him into a quick hug.
"Thanks," Ichigo said gruffly, sounding a little embarrassed.
Then, before Urahara could respond, the boy turned around and left.
As soon as the door clicked closed, Urahara buried his face into his palms and rubbed his face. He suddenly felt tired. Why did he always get himself into complicated situations?
But then the image of Ichigo's grin flashed in his mind, and he found himself thinking that perhaps it's worth it.
Tessai and Ururu were in the kitchen when he went there to get himself a drink. He met Tessai's eyes, and even though his old friend didn't say anything, Urahara found it difficult to maintain eye contact.
"What's for dinner?" he asked casually.
Tessai remained silent for a few seconds before answering. "Chicken curry." He didn't sound upset; he was just talking in his usual quiet manner.
"Ah, perfect. I'm in the mood for curry," Urahara said in a cheerful voice, which he hoped could pass as normal. But he knew he couldn't possibly fool his friend-they'd known each other for far too long.
Ururu didn't detect his mood, though. "Great! It should be ready in half an hour," the girl said, smiling at him fondly.
The blonde stood around until he finished his drink and decided that he should leave before he crumbled under the weight hanging over his head. As he walked out of the kitchen, he could feel his friend's gaze boring into his back. He didn't have to ask to know what Tessai thought of his actions-it was obvious enough.
As it turned out, Yuzu had insisted that everyone needed to wait until her precious Ichi-nii returned before they could start dinner, which was why Ichigo was met with two very long faces when he sat down at the dining table. His father wore a dramatically sad expression of a starving man, while Karin simply glowered at him.
"Thanks, Yuzu, this is great." Ichigo ruffled his sister's blond hair. Yuzu beamed up at him.
It was amazing how much she loved him, it was mind boggling. Ichigo couldn't understand what he had done to deserve such affection; he was fiercely protective of his sisters, which, he supposed, could be counted as a display of brotherly love, but honestly, he didn't feel like that he had done nearly enough to deserve so much, and for that he was thankful everyday. If not for Yuzu and Karin, his life would be a much, much bigger shithole that it was now.
That line of thought brought him to what just happened that day-yet another thing that he had not expected. From sneaky bastard to lover, his perception of Urahara Kisuke had certainly fluctuated much greater than he'd like over two short days.
Occupied by the thoughts of the blonde, Ichigo became silent throughout the rest of dinner. But since he was never terribly talkative in the first place, he was fortunate enough to not draw any additional attention to himself.
Once he was safely in the privacy of his own room, he sat down on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had slept with his mentor, of all people on the planet. It wasn't a matter of physical attraction or dysfunctional teenage hormones-at least he didn't think it was. He had felt an intense pull, a connectionwhen they kissed, and even more so when they eventually went all the way. Yet, he didn't understand why he had kissed the man to begin with.
Perhaps it was the fact that the man had let him take out his rage on him without complaint, even when Ichigo shouldn't have. Maybe it was how the man looked after his sister, or that he was the only one who quietly accepted that Ichigo was notokay and did not push him to heal. Ichigo was sick and tired of being told that he would be okay, sick and tired of people treating him like glass.
Whatever it was, he now realized how important a role Urahara played in his life-the man had been a constant presence, a rock in his otherwise turbulent life. He couldn't believe he had never seen it before.
But what did the man's silence mean? Ichigo wasn't stupid; he knew things wouldn't be simple. Urahara wasn't your typical lover. Heck, Ichigo had no idea how old the blonde was, or the man's history. But at this point, he really didn't care about all that.
Still, it didn't stop him from feeling stupid. He had literally pounced on the guy. Urahara had been willing enough, even though he was hesitant at first. And it was so good, so mind-blowingly amazing-Ichigo hadn't ever felt such intense pleasure before.
And he was already craving for more.
He didn't know if it was healthy, but just the thought of Urahara's hand on him sent a chill through his body. And the feeling of him sliding inside...Ichigo shivered and bit his lip to refrain from moaning out loud.
For once, he didn't mull over his loneliness as he went to bed that night, or the emptiness that had been plaguing him ever since he parted ways with his old life. He didn't know what this meant, whether it's good or bad that Urahara made him feel this way.
Either way, he knew that they needed to talk. As he began to feel drowsy under his comfortable covers, he allowed himself a small smile.
Urahara wasn't surprised to find the boy on his doorstep again the next day. He was glad, in fact, because he'd been up all night thinking about them-about what they'd done, the things they needed to sort out, feelings that may have to be broken.
Ichigo's greeting was just a little bit less surly than usual, his cheeks a little pink, but otherwise he looked normal.
"Tea?" Urahara offered as they stepped into the living room.
"Sure," Ichigo said with a shrug and followed the blonde into the small kitchen.
As though there were some unspoken understanding, they automatically walked towards Urahara's room after that, tea cups in hand.
It wasn't until they finally settled down on the floor in the middle of the room that they truly looked at each other. Ichigo noticed with a start how tired the older man seemed. His eyes, though still bright, was a little puffy, the lines around them slightly more prominent.
"Are you okay?" Ichigo asked. The man's hand was barely a foot away from his own, but he made no attempt to reach out to touch it. Somehow that just didn't seem right, not before they talked.
Urahara took a sip from his cup and rubbed his face. "Yeah," he said with a rueful smile. "This is what happens when you get old-you miss a few hours of sleep and everything shows."
Ichigo looked down at and pretended to stare at his fingers. So Urahara didn't sleep well last night. That wasn't a good sign, since Ichigo had slept exceptionally well. It hadn't been five minutes into their conversation and they were already not on the same page.
He waited a bit to see how Urahara would begin the talk, as he had come to think of it. But the man just swirled the mouthful of tea around in his mouth like it's some sort of expensive wine.
Oh hell. Ichigo decided that he couldn't just sit still and wait, his nerves were getting too highly-strung as silence wore on.
"Listen, about yesterday," he began, forcing himself to look at Urahara. "I-"
"I'm sorry," Urahara interrupted softly. He met Ichigo's eyes and winced when those brown eyes blinked in confusion. "About yesterday, I'm really sorry."
"For what?" Ichigo asked. Of all things, he wasn't expecting to hear an apology.
Urahara looked as though he dreaded what he was going to say, and suddenly, Ichigo didn't want the man to speak anymore. But he bit his tongue and listened.
"I realize you were upset yesterday," the blonde continued, his voice low but steady. "I shouldn't have taken advantage of that."
Ichigo's mouth fell open in disbelief. "You're kidding me," he thought out loud. After a pause, he said again, "You're fuckingkidding me."
Urahara started to explain, but Ichigo no longer wanted to hear what he had to say. It was going to be same bullshit-you're too young, you weren't in control, he could see those coming. It hurt, it really did, especially when he had been so sure that Urahara understood him.
Before he truly knew what he was doing, he had knocked the blonde over. He pinned the man down on the floor by the shoulders with his knees set firmly on his sides, and glared at him.
"Kurosaki-kun..." Urahara reached up to grab the boy's wrists to push him away, but the boy bore down with all his weight and strength. He could've easily shaken the boy off if he wanted to, but he didn't like any of the possible outcomes of that.
"I'm not some kid, okay?" Ichigo growled, his fingers involuntarily curling around the man's shoulders, digging painfully into the skin. "I knew what I was doing, and I wanted it!"
Urahara stared up into the red-faced boy hovering above him. He wished he could say that as well, because heaven knows he wanted it too.
"Your father..." he began.
Ichigo cut him off by rudely crushing their lips together. He felt the blonde freeze and a rush of indignation crashed over him. It was so unfair. What happened to the man he thought he knew yesterday?
"Tell me, honestly," he said, looking into the pair of grey eyes below. "Did you like it? Do you want it?"
Urahara sighed. "Yes, but that doesn't mean that I should," he said wistfully. "Things are a bit more complicated than that, Kurosaki-kun."
"This doesn't have to be," Ichigo said, his breath becoming heavier from frustration. "This is between the two of us. You. Me. I don't give a fuck what other people think."
If only things were so simple, Urahara wanted to say. But his thoughts wilted when he felt Ichigo's breath on his face again. This time, the boy licked his lips almost tenderly, their noses brushing lightly against each other. He felt the roaming tongue linger on his healing cut, and then the full weight of Ichigo's lips pressed against his as the boy angled his head. He felt his logical mind struggle, but it had gotten weak under Ichigo's assault, and worse, under his own desire. As the hot, moist lips caressed him, gently coaxing him to respond, he caved.
Ichigo's breath quickened when he felt the blonde's hand travel up his back and finally came to the nape of his neck. The big, calloused palm cupped the back of his head, and he felt himself being pulled closer to the body beneath him. Another hand ran up his arm and gently traced his jawline. The touches emboldened him, and he delved deeper into the blonde's mouth, wringing a soft growl from the man.
Remembering how good it had felt when Urahara kissed his neck, he pulled away from the man's mouth and bent down to brush his lips lightly along his neck. Urahara felt a shiver run through his limbs, and at that point, they both knew that the discussion was over.
When he walked into the living room and met Tessai's eyes, Urahara knew at once that his friend wasn't going to remain silent this time. Ichigo had left an hour ago, and Tessai had seen him leave. He saw the man's gaze flick briefly to his neck, where Ichigo had left a handful of light markings.
"Kisuke-san." Tessai's deep voice was not accusatory, merely concerned about the fine line that his old friend was walking.
"I know," he replied. Now that he had made peace with his decision, he no longer had trouble looking directly at his friend.
Tessai sighed softly. "Be careful," was all he said before he gave the blonde a meaningful look.
Urahara nodded. "I know," he repeated with a grateful smile. Yes, he had many reasons to be cautious, of that he had no illusions.
Monday came too quickly, and it almost seemed like classes would never end. When it finally did, Ichigo packed up his bag as usual and headed for the door.
"Wait up!" A voice stopped him from behind, and Ichigo turned around to find his friend Keigo jogging up to him.
Keigo and Mizuiro were two friends whom he didn't mind hanging out with. They saw what happened in the end, but they hadn't been there, they didn't see many of the things that Inoue, Ishida, and the rest saw. Ironically, that made them less inclined to treat him like he was a fragile piece of glass. He almost felt normal around them. Almost.
"There's a buy-two-get-one-free deal at the ramen place we like, do you want to be the third?" Mizuiro piped up, pulling up next to Keigo.
Ichigo hesitated, but then he saw the expectant smiles on his friends' faces, and his shoulders relaxed. "Sure, why not?"
The street was packed full of the after-school crowd, and the three of them navigated through the throngs of people with familiar ease. They were just one block shy of the ramen restaurant when a shout rang out from somewhere behind them. Instinctively, they turned, along with pretty much everyone else around them.
"Thief! Somebody snatched my bag!" A man's voice called urgently, and then the crowd parted suddenly, revealing a mousy, frantic-looking young man running clumsily away from a slightly older man.
"Amateur," Ichigo growled. Mizuiro and Keigo looked at each other; they knew what this meant.
With a flash of movement, Ichigo lunged after the thief. People staggered backwards, making way for him. It was so easy he almost laughed. One simple kick sent the man sprawling on the ground, and the bag he stole skidded away from him, rolling a good three feet away before finally stopping at the foot of its owner, who had just caught up with them.
Once the thief was hauled away, the man introduced himself as Kugo Ginjo and thanked Ichigo profusely. He was a tall, well-built man, with shoulder-length black hair that looked like it was slicked back using an entire jar of hair gel. His palm was big and rough, Ichigo noted, and he shook hands like a bear, crushing Ichigo's slimmer hand in his. For a moment, Ichigo wondered how that scrawny young man managed to outrun this guy.
He offered to treat them to ramen, but Ichigo declined. This was nothing, and to make a big deal out of it seemed almost insulting to everything else that he'd done. But of course this man couldn't have known, so Ichigo kept his face neutral even though he was beginning to feel impatient after having to decline for the third time.
When he was finally able to excuse himself without sounding too much like an asshole, he turned to catch up with Keigo and Mizuiro, who were waiting for him further up the street. Right as he turned his back, he heard a low voice say, "Don't you wish you could save everyone the way you just saved me?"
Feeling as though he'd been slapped in the face, Ichigo spun around, shocked to hear his deepest wish coming from a complete stranger. That was Kugo Ginjo's voice, there was no mistaking it. Ichigo's eyes searched the crowd around him and found nothing.
The man was gone.
To be continued...
Author's Note:
Do let me know what you think, I'm quite anxious to know how this direction (of the story) makes you feel. I personally am not a fan of the canon Fullbring arc (Kubo, what were you thinking?) so I don't feel bad twisting it. Hope you guys don't mind it. =)