Bleach Drabble (390-391)
Um! The Kira birthday extravaganza...two days late?
Okay, I suck. -_-;;
390.
Title: And Many Happy Returns
Rating: PG-15
Pairing/Character/s: GinxKira
Word Count: 712
Warning/s: SMEX mentions, but no real spoilers.
Summary: Kira gets to try a little different on his birthday
Dedication: para- good luck on midterms! I believe in you. XD
A/N: I suck for being so late, but my brain has been so dead today, seriously. O.o THIS IS NOT A GOOD FIC.
Kira tries to find his breath as he mechanically uncurls each of ten fingers from around the bed sheet knotted in his fists, heart still pounding in his chest and muscles still twitching just a bit, the shocked disbelief that’s currently settled like a cloud in his mind probably the reason his synapses are still firing all over the place right now, despite the faint stickiness on his hands that tells him he should relax, that his part is over for the moment.
He feels the body beside his stretch languorously, the shifting in the bed causing him to jostle just a bit.
“T-taichou?” he asks, voice small. “Are you um… are you okay?”
Gin’s breathy chuckle makes the blond flush, and he chances a sideways glance at his captain, who is looking rather pleased as he eases himself onto his back. “My, Kira-chan,” he murmurs, sounding both impressed and amused as he rotates his neck luxuriously. “Didn’t think you’d take so well, ne?” he adds, moving to lick his own fingers clean.
Kira shudders at the sight and hastily averts his gaze as Ichimaru enjoys himself a moment longer.
“Na…Kira-chan, you don’t look relaxed at all,” Gin starts after a moment, propping himself up on an elbow and regarding the vice-captain carefully. “Did you not enjoy your present?”
Kira balks a little at the question; flushing bright red in a blush he knows goes all the way down his neck. “N-no, taichou! It was a wonderful present!” he assures the older man quickly, though at the same time, the blond desperately tries not to think back on what his captain had given him tonight, when he’d lain down on his stomach and invited Kira to take him for the first time.
Izuru believes that if he thinks about it much more, he’ll only want it again, and as far as he knows, birthdays are only supposed to come once a year, despite the fact that just recalling how his captain had felt--warm and tight and ready-is enough to cause an uncomfortable stirring in his groin once again. Instantly ashamed, he does his best to think of other things, things that will subdue the increasing sense of arousal he experiences looking at his captain there beside him.
“Ne…did you have a good birthday then?” Gin questions lazily, happy upon hearing the vice-captain’s positive answer.
Kira flushes deeper at the tone of his captain’s voice, the one that’s light and teasing and not at all unlike how it had been moments before, when the older man had thrust his hips backwards into the blond and murmured sly things to Izuru about how wonderful everything felt.
“Yes, taichou… a wonderful birthday,” Kira responds a bit breathlessly, feeling stirrings in his groin and the shameful realization that he isn’t quite in control of himself both at the same time.
“Na….” Gin starts, frowning. “You don’t sound like you had a good birthday, Kira-chan.”
Reaching out, the captain smiles wickedly and touches a strand of the other man’s hair, moving to tuck it behind Izuru’s ear. “Why so tense then, mmm?” he asks, feigning concern.
The feel of his captain’s fingers on his face make him much too hot all of a sudden, and looking down, he takes a deep breath. “I um…I…”
To his horror, his captain’s eyes follow his downward as well, and chuckling lowly, Gin pats the blond’s head. “Ah, my cute Kira-chan,” he murmurs, voice rumbling low in his throat with something almost like fondness. “If that was the problem, all you had to do was roll back over, na? It’s still your birthday for a few hours yet.”
Kira blinks, eyes wide at that, and Gin settles back down anticipatorily, predicting that it will take a moment or two for his vice-captain to realize the depth of his invitation.
But when Kira does, he rolls back over atop Gin carefully, looking down at his captain with the most adorable mixture of shyness and excitement. “T-taichou? Is this okay?”
Gin chuckles at that, spreading his legs as he thinks to himself that his Kira-chan is really very cute, as well as-surprisingly-much more aggressive than his quiet nature first lets on.
What a pleasant birthday for both of them.
END
391.
Title: Ikkaku vs. Betty Crocker
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: IkkakuxKira
Word Count: 852
Warning/s: CRACK and OOCness? But yeah. Haha such is my way.
Summary: Ikkaku tries to make this birthday special.
Dedication: sw_inku- WE R EBIL 2gether. XD (Fanart still under wraps? XD)
A/N: Another Kira birthday fic for the other fangirl in me. XD Kira is my pairing whore. YES.
It’s five am and he’s awake because he’s got to get this just right… knows that it’ll probably take him the whole goddamned three hours he gave himself to get this done.
But either way, it’s gonna get done.
He stands back and looks challengingly at the ingredients he’s collected, the eleventh division shinigami never having backed down from a fight before and even though the circumstances are a wee bit different, he’s still determined to come out of this with his reputation intact.
Rolling up his sleeves, Ikkaku glares at the bag of flour and dons Kira’s cute pink apron like war armor, grabbing the recipe book as he prepares to kick some breakfast-in-bed ass.
Kira awakens long before the alarm goes off due in part by the empty bed beside him, though in all honesty he has to chalk it up to the sounds of muffled crashes and frustrated expletives coming from the direction of the kitchen this morning, and vaguely distressed, the blond gets out of bed and pads towards the noise.
When he arrives in the kitchen, there is a frying pan very plainly alight with flame on the stove, a cloud of flour floating like fog through the air, and somewhere in the middle of it all, a cursing Ikkaku wearing the blond’s pink apron-the one Ikkaku calls the “fantasy porn apron” and is always trying to cop a feel under when Izuru’s trying to cook.
Kira momentarily forgets that there is fire on the stove at the sight of Ikkaku in his apron.
He supposes he understands a bit now that the tables are turned, why one might equate the ruffles to fantasy porn.
But then the roar of the fire is there, reminding him that as surprisingly hot as some things are right now, there are things that are hotter, and making a small noise of panic, Kira reaches for a nearby pot cover and quickly smothers the flame, the result of which is a particularly thick cloud of black ash rolling up from under the edges of the lid.
That done, he moves over towards the window and throws it open, hoping to air out the room before the smell drifts over to the rest of the house and leaves it stinky for the rest of the day.
Madarame, hearing the noise of the window being thrown open amidst the sneezing attack the cloud of flour has unleashed upon him, turns and looks at Kira with panicked eyes. “Izuru!” And then, upon realizing that there’s really no bother trying to hide it anymore, a sheepish, “Um… mornin’.”
Kira watches his lover, waving smoke and airborne flour out from his face as he stands by the open window. “Morning,” he responds, waiting patiently by for some sort of explanation as Ikkaku stands around in the middle of the kitchen wearing a pink apron and looking vaguely ghostlike, all covered in white powder like he is.
They look at each other for a moment.
And then Ikkaku sighs. “Um. Happy birthday.”
Kira blinks at that. Then, after a second of thought, “Oh. So it is.”
Ikkaku makes a face. “Che. Don’t even remember the day yourself and I go through the trouble of makin’ ya breakfast. Asshole.”
Izuru chuckles. “Thank you. What was it?”
“Crepes, ya bastard. Crepes and fruit and an omelet, once I figured out how the eff I was gonna get the little flour lumps outta this goddamned batter.” He glares down at the mixing bowl on the countertop like he wants to stab it with Hozukimaru or something and just call it a victory.
At that point, the blond forgets his polite chuckling and outright laughs at the indignant third seat. “Oh my,” he manages, in between laughter, hand ineffectually cupped over his mouth.
Ikkaku scowls at that, and is glad that at least the flour is covering up the fact that his face is pretty red right now. Defeated, he sighs and begins to remove the apron, figuring that he might as well cut his losses. “Sorry it turned out like shit,” he mumbles, working the knot at the back.
Izuru pauses then, eyes a bit wet with mirth as he reaches out to still Ikkaku’s hand. “Morning’s not over,” he suggests, a bit shyly. Then, moving to run his fingers over the ruffled edges of the garment, he looks up at Ikkaku through his lashes, murmuring “Leave the apron on?”
Ikkaku blinks.
Slowly, realization begins to dawn however, and Madarame feels his lips begin to stretch into a smile. “Yeah?”
Kira nods. “Yeah.”
Full out grinning now, Ikkaku leans forward and steals a kiss. “Sweet,” he murmurs, dropping his hands from the apron strings. “Happy birthday, babe.”
Kira wraps his arms around the taller man’s neck and beams, thinking they both must look absolutely ridiculous right now. “Thank you.”
Arms full of Izuru, Ikkaku can’t help but throw a triumphant look over the blond’s shoulder, over towards the lumpy batter bowl and the flour splattered recipe book left discarded on the counter.
He smirks.
And that’s kickin’ your ass.
END
Edits?
Okay, I suck. -_-;;
390.
Title: And Many Happy Returns
Rating: PG-15
Pairing/Character/s: GinxKira
Word Count: 712
Warning/s: SMEX mentions, but no real spoilers.
Summary: Kira gets to try a little different on his birthday
Dedication: para- good luck on midterms! I believe in you. XD
A/N: I suck for being so late, but my brain has been so dead today, seriously. O.o THIS IS NOT A GOOD FIC.
Kira tries to find his breath as he mechanically uncurls each of ten fingers from around the bed sheet knotted in his fists, heart still pounding in his chest and muscles still twitching just a bit, the shocked disbelief that’s currently settled like a cloud in his mind probably the reason his synapses are still firing all over the place right now, despite the faint stickiness on his hands that tells him he should relax, that his part is over for the moment.
He feels the body beside his stretch languorously, the shifting in the bed causing him to jostle just a bit.
“T-taichou?” he asks, voice small. “Are you um… are you okay?”
Gin’s breathy chuckle makes the blond flush, and he chances a sideways glance at his captain, who is looking rather pleased as he eases himself onto his back. “My, Kira-chan,” he murmurs, sounding both impressed and amused as he rotates his neck luxuriously. “Didn’t think you’d take so well, ne?” he adds, moving to lick his own fingers clean.
Kira shudders at the sight and hastily averts his gaze as Ichimaru enjoys himself a moment longer.
“Na…Kira-chan, you don’t look relaxed at all,” Gin starts after a moment, propping himself up on an elbow and regarding the vice-captain carefully. “Did you not enjoy your present?”
Kira balks a little at the question; flushing bright red in a blush he knows goes all the way down his neck. “N-no, taichou! It was a wonderful present!” he assures the older man quickly, though at the same time, the blond desperately tries not to think back on what his captain had given him tonight, when he’d lain down on his stomach and invited Kira to take him for the first time.
Izuru believes that if he thinks about it much more, he’ll only want it again, and as far as he knows, birthdays are only supposed to come once a year, despite the fact that just recalling how his captain had felt--warm and tight and ready-is enough to cause an uncomfortable stirring in his groin once again. Instantly ashamed, he does his best to think of other things, things that will subdue the increasing sense of arousal he experiences looking at his captain there beside him.
“Ne…did you have a good birthday then?” Gin questions lazily, happy upon hearing the vice-captain’s positive answer.
Kira flushes deeper at the tone of his captain’s voice, the one that’s light and teasing and not at all unlike how it had been moments before, when the older man had thrust his hips backwards into the blond and murmured sly things to Izuru about how wonderful everything felt.
“Yes, taichou… a wonderful birthday,” Kira responds a bit breathlessly, feeling stirrings in his groin and the shameful realization that he isn’t quite in control of himself both at the same time.
“Na….” Gin starts, frowning. “You don’t sound like you had a good birthday, Kira-chan.”
Reaching out, the captain smiles wickedly and touches a strand of the other man’s hair, moving to tuck it behind Izuru’s ear. “Why so tense then, mmm?” he asks, feigning concern.
The feel of his captain’s fingers on his face make him much too hot all of a sudden, and looking down, he takes a deep breath. “I um…I…”
To his horror, his captain’s eyes follow his downward as well, and chuckling lowly, Gin pats the blond’s head. “Ah, my cute Kira-chan,” he murmurs, voice rumbling low in his throat with something almost like fondness. “If that was the problem, all you had to do was roll back over, na? It’s still your birthday for a few hours yet.”
Kira blinks, eyes wide at that, and Gin settles back down anticipatorily, predicting that it will take a moment or two for his vice-captain to realize the depth of his invitation.
But when Kira does, he rolls back over atop Gin carefully, looking down at his captain with the most adorable mixture of shyness and excitement. “T-taichou? Is this okay?”
Gin chuckles at that, spreading his legs as he thinks to himself that his Kira-chan is really very cute, as well as-surprisingly-much more aggressive than his quiet nature first lets on.
What a pleasant birthday for both of them.
END
391.
Title: Ikkaku vs. Betty Crocker
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: IkkakuxKira
Word Count: 852
Warning/s: CRACK and OOCness? But yeah. Haha such is my way.
Summary: Ikkaku tries to make this birthday special.
Dedication: sw_inku- WE R EBIL 2gether. XD (Fanart still under wraps? XD)
A/N: Another Kira birthday fic for the other fangirl in me. XD Kira is my pairing whore. YES.
It’s five am and he’s awake because he’s got to get this just right… knows that it’ll probably take him the whole goddamned three hours he gave himself to get this done.
But either way, it’s gonna get done.
He stands back and looks challengingly at the ingredients he’s collected, the eleventh division shinigami never having backed down from a fight before and even though the circumstances are a wee bit different, he’s still determined to come out of this with his reputation intact.
Rolling up his sleeves, Ikkaku glares at the bag of flour and dons Kira’s cute pink apron like war armor, grabbing the recipe book as he prepares to kick some breakfast-in-bed ass.
Kira awakens long before the alarm goes off due in part by the empty bed beside him, though in all honesty he has to chalk it up to the sounds of muffled crashes and frustrated expletives coming from the direction of the kitchen this morning, and vaguely distressed, the blond gets out of bed and pads towards the noise.
When he arrives in the kitchen, there is a frying pan very plainly alight with flame on the stove, a cloud of flour floating like fog through the air, and somewhere in the middle of it all, a cursing Ikkaku wearing the blond’s pink apron-the one Ikkaku calls the “fantasy porn apron” and is always trying to cop a feel under when Izuru’s trying to cook.
Kira momentarily forgets that there is fire on the stove at the sight of Ikkaku in his apron.
He supposes he understands a bit now that the tables are turned, why one might equate the ruffles to fantasy porn.
But then the roar of the fire is there, reminding him that as surprisingly hot as some things are right now, there are things that are hotter, and making a small noise of panic, Kira reaches for a nearby pot cover and quickly smothers the flame, the result of which is a particularly thick cloud of black ash rolling up from under the edges of the lid.
That done, he moves over towards the window and throws it open, hoping to air out the room before the smell drifts over to the rest of the house and leaves it stinky for the rest of the day.
Madarame, hearing the noise of the window being thrown open amidst the sneezing attack the cloud of flour has unleashed upon him, turns and looks at Kira with panicked eyes. “Izuru!” And then, upon realizing that there’s really no bother trying to hide it anymore, a sheepish, “Um… mornin’.”
Kira watches his lover, waving smoke and airborne flour out from his face as he stands by the open window. “Morning,” he responds, waiting patiently by for some sort of explanation as Ikkaku stands around in the middle of the kitchen wearing a pink apron and looking vaguely ghostlike, all covered in white powder like he is.
They look at each other for a moment.
And then Ikkaku sighs. “Um. Happy birthday.”
Kira blinks at that. Then, after a second of thought, “Oh. So it is.”
Ikkaku makes a face. “Che. Don’t even remember the day yourself and I go through the trouble of makin’ ya breakfast. Asshole.”
Izuru chuckles. “Thank you. What was it?”
“Crepes, ya bastard. Crepes and fruit and an omelet, once I figured out how the eff I was gonna get the little flour lumps outta this goddamned batter.” He glares down at the mixing bowl on the countertop like he wants to stab it with Hozukimaru or something and just call it a victory.
At that point, the blond forgets his polite chuckling and outright laughs at the indignant third seat. “Oh my,” he manages, in between laughter, hand ineffectually cupped over his mouth.
Ikkaku scowls at that, and is glad that at least the flour is covering up the fact that his face is pretty red right now. Defeated, he sighs and begins to remove the apron, figuring that he might as well cut his losses. “Sorry it turned out like shit,” he mumbles, working the knot at the back.
Izuru pauses then, eyes a bit wet with mirth as he reaches out to still Ikkaku’s hand. “Morning’s not over,” he suggests, a bit shyly. Then, moving to run his fingers over the ruffled edges of the garment, he looks up at Ikkaku through his lashes, murmuring “Leave the apron on?”
Ikkaku blinks.
Slowly, realization begins to dawn however, and Madarame feels his lips begin to stretch into a smile. “Yeah?”
Kira nods. “Yeah.”
Full out grinning now, Ikkaku leans forward and steals a kiss. “Sweet,” he murmurs, dropping his hands from the apron strings. “Happy birthday, babe.”
Kira wraps his arms around the taller man’s neck and beams, thinking they both must look absolutely ridiculous right now. “Thank you.”
Arms full of Izuru, Ikkaku can’t help but throw a triumphant look over the blond’s shoulder, over towards the lumpy batter bowl and the flour splattered recipe book left discarded on the counter.
He smirks.
And that’s kickin’ your ass.
END
Edits?