Bleach Drabble (446-447)
BEEN A WHILE FOR THE IKKIRA I GUESS?
446.
Title: Lovey-Dovey
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: ShuuheixYumichika, IkkakuxKira
Word Count: 863
Warning/s: No spoilers I can imagine-just silliness and OOC. XD
Summary: Yumichika and Kira share deep, dark, embarrassing secrets.
Dedication: JaB- I always think of the expressions on your part of the doujinshi when I think of blatant thug idiocy now. Thanks.
A/N: I dunno. I just wanted to be disgusting, I think. XD
“Kirarin,” Kira murmurs reluctantly, and then blushes bright red into the rim of his teacup.
Yumichika looks sympathetic. “Yu,” he offers, wrinkling his nose, shuddering at the mere sound of the word.
Kira looks at the pretty shinigami with wide eyes. “Wah, really? Senpai… he…”
Yumichika nods. “Unfortunately.”
“I dunno…that’s kinda… cute.” Kira offers a small smile. Then, “Sometimes…Izurin.”
Yumi rolls his eyes. “Terribly creative of him, there. Not wholly unexpected, though.”
The blond chuckles warmly. “Yeah.”
Yumi pauses then, swirls his tea around a bit in the cup. Takes a deep breath. “Yumicchi,” he confesses.
Blue eyes widen even more. “Really? He…really?”
“Mmm,” Yumi confirms, and gulps down tea like he wants to clean his palate of the name with it. “On the worst days…Yumichu? Ugh.”
Kira chuckles. “I don’t…I don’t really believe… I mean.” He looks down, shyly. “Senpai really calls you that?”
The eleventh division shinigami sighs, but offers Kira a small smile. “What, you want proof?”
Izuru looks absolutely incredulous at that. “You mean he’d…”
“Not sober,” Yumi clarifies.
“You mean…”
Yumichika nods, glad to finally have a comrade in this mutual sort of pain. He sets his teacup back on the table. “Well. They’re having game night with Renji and Tetsu tonight…” Yumichika looks at the time piece on his wall. “We’ll give them another two hours or so-they should be right sloshed then.”
Kira, cheeks a bit pink at the thought, nods. “Okay.”
Two hours later, as promised, the two of them move to crash the little drinking/card party, slipping inside Renji’s quarters in lieu of knocking given that at this point the four poker players are probably far too gone to properly get up and invite visitors in.
From Renji’s living room they hear raucous laughter and something like a “Fuck you!” as cards are being thrown on the table.
Kira looks vaguely guilty at invading. “Are you sure we…”
Yumi pats his arm reassuringly and rounds the corner with something like dramatic flourish. “Shuuhei!”
The room goes quiet for a second, and Yumichika sniffs at the beer cans scattered about, the smell of cheap booze, tobacco, and something musty-Renji does live here after all-hanging in the air.
And then, “Yumicchi!!!” Shuu declares, smiling drunkenly in greeting when he recognizes his lover. “Was just thinkin’ ‘bout you.”
“Fuck you better not have a boner under my card table then, ya suck fuck,” Renji slurs, and beans a pretzel at Hisagi’s head. It goes wide. “Last thing I need is images of the two’ve you goin’ at it.”
Shuuhei scowls at his host and beans the very same pretzel back at him, though misses by a larger margin than the redhead had. “Don’t picture ‘im naked. He’s mine.”
Ikkaku flicks pretzels at them both. “Deal already, for fuck’s sake!” he demands drunkenly, belching at the end of the order for emphasis.
Kira clears his throat then, steps out into the light behind Yumichika. “Er…Ikkaku?”
The bald death god promptly forgets being dealt to. “Kirara?”
Yumi gives the blond a surprised look at that. “Kirara?” he mouths.
Izuru, mortified, shakes his head. “I think that one was an accident?” he offers in a whisper before turning back to his lover with a slightly strained smile. “Um… hi.”
Ikkaku grins. “Whatcha doin’ here, baby?”
Kira looks vaguely panicked at the question. “Um…”
“We were terribly lonely,” Yumichika picks up smoothly, “and came to see our…” Great, unwashed masses… “…dearest loves.”
Tetsu and Renji make faces.
Shuuhei and Ikkaku grin.
“Best seat in the house all ready to go then, cutie,” Ikkaku declares goofily, patting his thigh.
“Wouldn’t wantcha missin’ us, after all,” Shuuhei adds, and leans back in invitation should Yumichika like to perch himself in his lap as well.
The two newcomers look at each other skeptically.
“No, no that’s alright,” Yumichika starts, with surprising aplomb given how ridiculous the two drunkards look right now, “we’ve seen you now, and that’s all we needed. Carry on, boys.”
“Yeah… I’ll uhm, I won’t wait up for you, Ikkaku,” Izuru agrees readily, already backing up towards the door as he does.
Yumichika moves to follow, but pauses momentarily in the doorway as inspiration strikes him. He smirks. “I’ll see you later… ShuuShuu.”
Shuuhei blinks. “Whazat now?”
Kira eyes Yumichika questioningly, but the answering sparkle of encouragement he gets from the shorter man in response tells him everything he needs to know. “Right…um… night… Ikka….chu?”
Yumichika almost, almost snorts aloud at that.
Ikkaku’s turn to blink then. “Huh?”
The two smaller men compose themselves and stroll out the door without another word.
Behind them, the raucous laughter resumes, even more raucously than before.
“Oh man! Ahahahahaha!!! ShuuShuu?! That’s too good. That’s better than good. That’s fuckin’ amazing.”
“Pfffffft ain’t half as good as Ikkachu!! That’s pretty fuckin’ cute there, Madarame. I think I’m gonna die. Oh god…ahahahaha, it hurts to breathe…”
Outside, Yumichika and Kira share a look and quiet laughter, the two of them thinking that maybe their own nicknames aren’t the worst ones they’ve heard tonight in the least.
They head back to Yumichika’s quarters then, infinitely smug.
Renji and Iba’s breathless laughter follows them out.
END
447.
Title: Little Reminders
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: IkkakuxKira, vague hints of GinxKira
Word Count: 953
Warning/s: Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc
Summary: Ikkaku’s lessons are written on his skin.
Dedication: sw_inku- I know I scarred you during this doujin thing. XD
A/N: Ehehe sappier than I had planned. *shrugs* I dunno.
“You have so many,” Kira murmurs, both in awe and concern.
“They’re souvenirs, I guess,” Ikkaku grunts, and squirms a bit when Kira traces the tip of his finger over the edge of an oddly shaped scar on the other man’s back.
“Souvenirs?”
“Remind me not to do stupid shit again,” Ikkaku clarifies, and curses under his breath when Kira leans down to let his tongue finish what his finger had started. “That one you’re… nnngh…. That one’s supposed to remind me not to turn my back on an angry chick who was convinced I didn’t do right by her,” he explains with a little snort.
“Hmmm,” Kira murmurs, and presses his lips to the scar tissue. “What about this one?”
“Nnn… from Zaraki-taichou. Reminds me I can’t beat nobody up after I’m dead.”
The blond chuckles a bit at that. “Good lesson.”
He runs his thumb over a longer cut then, that’s paper thin and starts on his lover’s right shoulder blade, extending all the way around his side. “This one is different,” he muses aloud.
And it is. Looks much more delicate than most of the others, much more precise.
Ikkaku snorts at it. “Figures-bastard always took to bein’ different.”
The way he talks about it, Izuru knows right away, where it’s from. “Yumichika?”
“Learned not to underestimate me no pretty boys,” Ikkaku says then, and shifts onto his side, propping his head up on his hand so he can regard the blond more carefully. “Why you so curious about these ugly old things anyway?”
Kira settles more comfortably next to him at that, looks at his front and all the other old wounds he can see there. “Your body is like a map of your history,” he murmurs, absently, touching his lips to a jagged cut just under Madarame’s collarbone. “Does it bother you sometimes? To always have to see it and relive it?”
Ikkaku shivers a bit, reaches out with one hand to stroke blond bangs out of Kira’s eyes. “Dunno. Ain’t much for dwellin’.”
And that’s the difference between them maybe-Ikkaku takes his scars as lessons but forgets how much they must have hurt, the price in blood he’d had to pay to come out with them as just souvenirs. To come out the survivor.
Maybe Kira’s been picking at his own too long, wondering at their purpose now that the person who’s sake he’d endured them for had left him behind. “Is it that simple?” he asks, and lets his hand drift to the front of his own chest for a moment.
“Yeah, I figure,” Ikkaku grunts, still playing absently with the other man’s hair. “What’s there ‘s there. Ain’t got time to worry ‘bout ‘em, long as they ain’t hurtin’.”
“Hmmm,” Kira replies, and supposes that makes sense.
Ikkaku smiles at him, crookedly and full of an honest kind of simple charm. “What about you?”
The blond looks down at himself then, at the few, thin pink scars here and there, wounds in the service of Ichimaru Gin.
“They make me remember,” he admits, and looks back up at Ikkaku.
The eleventh division shinigami shrugs. “They hurt?”
“Sometimes.”
“Hmmm,” Ikkaku says, and lets his hand drift downward slowly, to rest against the curve of the other man’s pale neck, stroking that little turn where his throat meets his shoulder. “You learn something from ‘em?”
Kira furrows his brow then, looks down again at the pale pink marks that dot his body.
The one he got on his first assignment after being accepted into the gotei-13.
The ugly scratches he got protecting Gin from the Hollow he thought his captain hadn’t noticed.
The one from Gin himself, Shinsou’s sharp bite against his arm and Gin’s tongue lapping the blood up a moment later, a permanent sign. Gin’s promise, “you’ll always belong to me.”
He tries to think about what they all mean, what he possibly could have learned from those very different things.
Ikkaku’s hand continues stroking his shoulder, the pad of a rough thumb pressing into one of the scars near his collarbone.
Kira shivers and inches closer, rests his head in the crook of Ikkaku’s throat.
If Ikkaku’s scars are reminders then Kira’s are affirmations-signs of love and loyalty and self-sacrifice.
They’re a declaration, maybe. That he’ll always protect those most important to him, no matter who it may be. At all costs, without second thought. It’s simply how he is.
Perhaps Ichimaru Gin had been the wrong person to entrust himself so fully to, but looking back, Izuru supposes he at least knows now, that when he loves, he will fight as hard as he can for that other person’s sake.
Ikkaku’s calloused hand touches his face then, cupping his chin and tipping his head up so eyes can meet eyes. “Well?”
“I learned something,” Kira murmurs then, and puts his both of his hands on top of Ikkaku’s larger one.
A hint of a smile then, a simple grunt of acknowledgement from the other death god. “Well there ya go then,” he says, and leaves it at that.
Izuru can’t help but laugh at that, eyes crinkling just a bit as he gazes up at Madarame warmly. “I’ll always protect you,” he promises suddenly, and Ikkaku laughs a bit when he hears it, leaning forward to kiss Kira’s forehead. “Right,” he declares with an amused sort of fondness, pulling the blond more snuggly against him. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Kira sighs comfortably as he’s embraced and closes his eyes. “I have something to remind me,” he murmurs, breaths feather light against the ugly scar on his lover’s shoulder.
Ikkaku chuckles sleepily. “Long as you learned something.”
Kira smiles. “Yeah.”
END
EDITS PLZ.
Also, more mercy_street_rp fic over on mercystreenote:
Title: Source Material
Characters: AkonxMayu
Timeline: N/A
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Akon reads up on some interesting stuff.
A/N: To commemorate, in a manner of speaking, the birth of a brand new AkonxMayu. GO SID! GO SHINI!
(Source Material)
446.
Title: Lovey-Dovey
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: ShuuheixYumichika, IkkakuxKira
Word Count: 863
Warning/s: No spoilers I can imagine-just silliness and OOC. XD
Summary: Yumichika and Kira share deep, dark, embarrassing secrets.
Dedication: JaB- I always think of the expressions on your part of the doujinshi when I think of blatant thug idiocy now. Thanks.
A/N: I dunno. I just wanted to be disgusting, I think. XD
“Kirarin,” Kira murmurs reluctantly, and then blushes bright red into the rim of his teacup.
Yumichika looks sympathetic. “Yu,” he offers, wrinkling his nose, shuddering at the mere sound of the word.
Kira looks at the pretty shinigami with wide eyes. “Wah, really? Senpai… he…”
Yumichika nods. “Unfortunately.”
“I dunno…that’s kinda… cute.” Kira offers a small smile. Then, “Sometimes…Izurin.”
Yumi rolls his eyes. “Terribly creative of him, there. Not wholly unexpected, though.”
The blond chuckles warmly. “Yeah.”
Yumi pauses then, swirls his tea around a bit in the cup. Takes a deep breath. “Yumicchi,” he confesses.
Blue eyes widen even more. “Really? He…really?”
“Mmm,” Yumi confirms, and gulps down tea like he wants to clean his palate of the name with it. “On the worst days…Yumichu? Ugh.”
Kira chuckles. “I don’t…I don’t really believe… I mean.” He looks down, shyly. “Senpai really calls you that?”
The eleventh division shinigami sighs, but offers Kira a small smile. “What, you want proof?”
Izuru looks absolutely incredulous at that. “You mean he’d…”
“Not sober,” Yumi clarifies.
“You mean…”
Yumichika nods, glad to finally have a comrade in this mutual sort of pain. He sets his teacup back on the table. “Well. They’re having game night with Renji and Tetsu tonight…” Yumichika looks at the time piece on his wall. “We’ll give them another two hours or so-they should be right sloshed then.”
Kira, cheeks a bit pink at the thought, nods. “Okay.”
Two hours later, as promised, the two of them move to crash the little drinking/card party, slipping inside Renji’s quarters in lieu of knocking given that at this point the four poker players are probably far too gone to properly get up and invite visitors in.
From Renji’s living room they hear raucous laughter and something like a “Fuck you!” as cards are being thrown on the table.
Kira looks vaguely guilty at invading. “Are you sure we…”
Yumi pats his arm reassuringly and rounds the corner with something like dramatic flourish. “Shuuhei!”
The room goes quiet for a second, and Yumichika sniffs at the beer cans scattered about, the smell of cheap booze, tobacco, and something musty-Renji does live here after all-hanging in the air.
And then, “Yumicchi!!!” Shuu declares, smiling drunkenly in greeting when he recognizes his lover. “Was just thinkin’ ‘bout you.”
“Fuck you better not have a boner under my card table then, ya suck fuck,” Renji slurs, and beans a pretzel at Hisagi’s head. It goes wide. “Last thing I need is images of the two’ve you goin’ at it.”
Shuuhei scowls at his host and beans the very same pretzel back at him, though misses by a larger margin than the redhead had. “Don’t picture ‘im naked. He’s mine.”
Ikkaku flicks pretzels at them both. “Deal already, for fuck’s sake!” he demands drunkenly, belching at the end of the order for emphasis.
Kira clears his throat then, steps out into the light behind Yumichika. “Er…Ikkaku?”
The bald death god promptly forgets being dealt to. “Kirara?”
Yumi gives the blond a surprised look at that. “Kirara?” he mouths.
Izuru, mortified, shakes his head. “I think that one was an accident?” he offers in a whisper before turning back to his lover with a slightly strained smile. “Um… hi.”
Ikkaku grins. “Whatcha doin’ here, baby?”
Kira looks vaguely panicked at the question. “Um…”
“We were terribly lonely,” Yumichika picks up smoothly, “and came to see our…” Great, unwashed masses… “…dearest loves.”
Tetsu and Renji make faces.
Shuuhei and Ikkaku grin.
“Best seat in the house all ready to go then, cutie,” Ikkaku declares goofily, patting his thigh.
“Wouldn’t wantcha missin’ us, after all,” Shuuhei adds, and leans back in invitation should Yumichika like to perch himself in his lap as well.
The two newcomers look at each other skeptically.
“No, no that’s alright,” Yumichika starts, with surprising aplomb given how ridiculous the two drunkards look right now, “we’ve seen you now, and that’s all we needed. Carry on, boys.”
“Yeah… I’ll uhm, I won’t wait up for you, Ikkaku,” Izuru agrees readily, already backing up towards the door as he does.
Yumichika moves to follow, but pauses momentarily in the doorway as inspiration strikes him. He smirks. “I’ll see you later… ShuuShuu.”
Shuuhei blinks. “Whazat now?”
Kira eyes Yumichika questioningly, but the answering sparkle of encouragement he gets from the shorter man in response tells him everything he needs to know. “Right…um… night… Ikka….chu?”
Yumichika almost, almost snorts aloud at that.
Ikkaku’s turn to blink then. “Huh?”
The two smaller men compose themselves and stroll out the door without another word.
Behind them, the raucous laughter resumes, even more raucously than before.
“Oh man! Ahahahahaha!!! ShuuShuu?! That’s too good. That’s better than good. That’s fuckin’ amazing.”
“Pfffffft ain’t half as good as Ikkachu!! That’s pretty fuckin’ cute there, Madarame. I think I’m gonna die. Oh god…ahahahaha, it hurts to breathe…”
Outside, Yumichika and Kira share a look and quiet laughter, the two of them thinking that maybe their own nicknames aren’t the worst ones they’ve heard tonight in the least.
They head back to Yumichika’s quarters then, infinitely smug.
Renji and Iba’s breathless laughter follows them out.
END
447.
Title: Little Reminders
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: IkkakuxKira, vague hints of GinxKira
Word Count: 953
Warning/s: Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc
Summary: Ikkaku’s lessons are written on his skin.
Dedication: sw_inku- I know I scarred you during this doujin thing. XD
A/N: Ehehe sappier than I had planned. *shrugs* I dunno.
“You have so many,” Kira murmurs, both in awe and concern.
“They’re souvenirs, I guess,” Ikkaku grunts, and squirms a bit when Kira traces the tip of his finger over the edge of an oddly shaped scar on the other man’s back.
“Souvenirs?”
“Remind me not to do stupid shit again,” Ikkaku clarifies, and curses under his breath when Kira leans down to let his tongue finish what his finger had started. “That one you’re… nnngh…. That one’s supposed to remind me not to turn my back on an angry chick who was convinced I didn’t do right by her,” he explains with a little snort.
“Hmmm,” Kira murmurs, and presses his lips to the scar tissue. “What about this one?”
“Nnn… from Zaraki-taichou. Reminds me I can’t beat nobody up after I’m dead.”
The blond chuckles a bit at that. “Good lesson.”
He runs his thumb over a longer cut then, that’s paper thin and starts on his lover’s right shoulder blade, extending all the way around his side. “This one is different,” he muses aloud.
And it is. Looks much more delicate than most of the others, much more precise.
Ikkaku snorts at it. “Figures-bastard always took to bein’ different.”
The way he talks about it, Izuru knows right away, where it’s from. “Yumichika?”
“Learned not to underestimate me no pretty boys,” Ikkaku says then, and shifts onto his side, propping his head up on his hand so he can regard the blond more carefully. “Why you so curious about these ugly old things anyway?”
Kira settles more comfortably next to him at that, looks at his front and all the other old wounds he can see there. “Your body is like a map of your history,” he murmurs, absently, touching his lips to a jagged cut just under Madarame’s collarbone. “Does it bother you sometimes? To always have to see it and relive it?”
Ikkaku shivers a bit, reaches out with one hand to stroke blond bangs out of Kira’s eyes. “Dunno. Ain’t much for dwellin’.”
And that’s the difference between them maybe-Ikkaku takes his scars as lessons but forgets how much they must have hurt, the price in blood he’d had to pay to come out with them as just souvenirs. To come out the survivor.
Maybe Kira’s been picking at his own too long, wondering at their purpose now that the person who’s sake he’d endured them for had left him behind. “Is it that simple?” he asks, and lets his hand drift to the front of his own chest for a moment.
“Yeah, I figure,” Ikkaku grunts, still playing absently with the other man’s hair. “What’s there ‘s there. Ain’t got time to worry ‘bout ‘em, long as they ain’t hurtin’.”
“Hmmm,” Kira replies, and supposes that makes sense.
Ikkaku smiles at him, crookedly and full of an honest kind of simple charm. “What about you?”
The blond looks down at himself then, at the few, thin pink scars here and there, wounds in the service of Ichimaru Gin.
“They make me remember,” he admits, and looks back up at Ikkaku.
The eleventh division shinigami shrugs. “They hurt?”
“Sometimes.”
“Hmmm,” Ikkaku says, and lets his hand drift downward slowly, to rest against the curve of the other man’s pale neck, stroking that little turn where his throat meets his shoulder. “You learn something from ‘em?”
Kira furrows his brow then, looks down again at the pale pink marks that dot his body.
The one he got on his first assignment after being accepted into the gotei-13.
The ugly scratches he got protecting Gin from the Hollow he thought his captain hadn’t noticed.
The one from Gin himself, Shinsou’s sharp bite against his arm and Gin’s tongue lapping the blood up a moment later, a permanent sign. Gin’s promise, “you’ll always belong to me.”
He tries to think about what they all mean, what he possibly could have learned from those very different things.
Ikkaku’s hand continues stroking his shoulder, the pad of a rough thumb pressing into one of the scars near his collarbone.
Kira shivers and inches closer, rests his head in the crook of Ikkaku’s throat.
If Ikkaku’s scars are reminders then Kira’s are affirmations-signs of love and loyalty and self-sacrifice.
They’re a declaration, maybe. That he’ll always protect those most important to him, no matter who it may be. At all costs, without second thought. It’s simply how he is.
Perhaps Ichimaru Gin had been the wrong person to entrust himself so fully to, but looking back, Izuru supposes he at least knows now, that when he loves, he will fight as hard as he can for that other person’s sake.
Ikkaku’s calloused hand touches his face then, cupping his chin and tipping his head up so eyes can meet eyes. “Well?”
“I learned something,” Kira murmurs then, and puts his both of his hands on top of Ikkaku’s larger one.
A hint of a smile then, a simple grunt of acknowledgement from the other death god. “Well there ya go then,” he says, and leaves it at that.
Izuru can’t help but laugh at that, eyes crinkling just a bit as he gazes up at Madarame warmly. “I’ll always protect you,” he promises suddenly, and Ikkaku laughs a bit when he hears it, leaning forward to kiss Kira’s forehead. “Right,” he declares with an amused sort of fondness, pulling the blond more snuggly against him. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Kira sighs comfortably as he’s embraced and closes his eyes. “I have something to remind me,” he murmurs, breaths feather light against the ugly scar on his lover’s shoulder.
Ikkaku chuckles sleepily. “Long as you learned something.”
Kira smiles. “Yeah.”
END
EDITS PLZ.
Also, more mercy_street_rp fic over on mercystreenote:
Title: Source Material
Characters: AkonxMayu
Timeline: N/A
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Akon reads up on some interesting stuff.
A/N: To commemorate, in a manner of speaking, the birth of a brand new AkonxMayu. GO SID! GO SHINI!
(Source Material)