[ After a few minutes, or maybe a few hours ( who can tell ) Ichigo finally sighs, and shifts enough to roll off of Shiro, and onto his back. Wriggling a little, he pulls his pants back up, but doesn't yet bother buttoning them up. Instead? He lets his eyes drift closed, and imagines the feeling of a blanket - both beneath them, and laying over top. Granted, he probably should have done something like this before, and saved himself the bruised kneecaps, but eh. He couldn't dredge up the will to care right now.
The sleeping bag sized for two could have been there the whole time, and now with night coming on, it was greatly appreciated. Not just because Ichigo, and Shiro were nestled together inside like twins, but that was good, too. ]
...Let's stay here, okay? I don't wanna go in, yet.
[ Maybe even stay there all night. Maybe even make love, again ( as corny as it sounded, calling it anything else made it seem base, and somehow...not as important. At least to Ichigo. ) or just hide from everyone, and steal a few hours of peace before dawn. ]
[Shiro whimpers again when Ichigo rolls off, his sweaty body missing the warmth of the other in the cool night air. But Ichigo actually thinks of something pretty clever. Fluffy sleeping bags are nice.... Shiro snuggles down into it and next to Ichigo so that very little but a shock of white hair sticking out of the top]
Nrrff... too many girls down there... stay up here... for now...
[he wraps his arm around his other, snuggling his forehead against Ichigo's collarbone and chest. It wasn't just sex. It was love. Some sort of love, anyway. Love between family, between brothers? But it was different than that, even deeper than that. Taboo and strange but so damn right for them.
Shiro is content to stay right here. He even dreams up a few of his favorite kinds of pillows; the fluffy kind... and a less fluffy one for Ichigo]
[ It's what lies on the other side of hate. The sort of destructive, obsessive, consuming love that can destroy a lesser man. Because this isn't healthy, not by any stretch of the imagination, and somewhere inside him, Ichigo knew that. This feeling was escalating, and while it felt good at this moment, there would come a day when it might swallow them both whole. It's taboo alright. Strange in ways that Ichigo can barely comprehend, but knows that the day everyone found out what was happening between him, and his hollow...well. It would end this blissful, visceral, experimental "love". What would happen afterwards, who can say.
Wrapping arms around white shoulders, Ichigo sighed, eyes half-closed against the comforting scent of shampoo, and that elusive something that was just plain Shiro. It's too much, all of it. But Ichigo's whole life was too much, and maybe he needed it that way.
No surprise, then, that his first experience with "love" would be as strange as his life had become. ]
[Indeed. It was something so all consuming that it might one day grow out of control and go wild with it. But of course, that's when the both of them operated best, wasn't it? They would find a way.
Or perhaps they wouldn't.
But while Shiro was surprisingly forward-thinking sometimes, tonight was not one of those nights. Maybe he did think about what would happen if anyone were to find out about them . Maybe he had given it some thought. But he didn't care. Right now was all that mattered to him. It was selfish and short-sighted, but he was sick of it, sick of having to be the one who always thought ahead. Considered consequences. That was for when he had nothing but time, and nothing to do with it but think.
Of course not. Nothing that Ichigo ever did was normal. Or right, or something that made any goddamn sense. Ichigo lost his virginity to himself, fell in love with a dark aspect of his own soul.
And that aspect fell in love back. It was all very strange.
The sleeping bag sized for two could have been there the whole time, and now with night coming on, it was greatly appreciated. Not just because Ichigo, and Shiro were nestled together inside like twins, but that was good, too. ]
...Let's stay here, okay? I don't wanna go in, yet.
[ Maybe even stay there all night. Maybe even make love, again ( as corny as it sounded, calling it anything else made it seem base, and somehow...not as important. At least to Ichigo. ) or just hide from everyone, and steal a few hours of peace before dawn. ]
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Nrrff... too many girls down there... stay up here... for now...
[he wraps his arm around his other, snuggling his forehead against Ichigo's collarbone and chest. It wasn't just sex. It was love. Some sort of love, anyway. Love between family, between brothers? But it was different than that, even deeper than that. Taboo and strange but so damn right for them.
Shiro is content to stay right here. He even dreams up a few of his favorite kinds of pillows; the fluffy kind... and a less fluffy one for Ichigo]
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This feeling was escalating, and while it felt good at this moment, there would come a day when it might swallow them both whole. It's taboo alright. Strange in ways that Ichigo can barely comprehend, but knows that the day everyone found out what was happening between him, and his hollow...well. It would end this blissful, visceral, experimental "love". What would happen afterwards, who can say.
Wrapping arms around white shoulders, Ichigo sighed, eyes half-closed against the comforting scent of shampoo, and that elusive something that was just plain Shiro.
It's too much, all of it. But Ichigo's whole life was too much, and maybe he needed it that way.
No surprise, then, that his first experience with "love" would be as strange as his life had become. ]
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Or perhaps they wouldn't.
But while Shiro was surprisingly forward-thinking sometimes, tonight was not one of those nights. Maybe he did think about what would happen if anyone were to find out about them . Maybe he had given it some thought. But he didn't care. Right now was all that mattered to him. It was selfish and short-sighted, but he was sick of it, sick of having to be the one who always thought ahead. Considered consequences. That was for when he had nothing but time, and nothing to do with it but think.
Of course not. Nothing that Ichigo ever did was normal. Or right, or something that made any goddamn sense. Ichigo lost his virginity to himself, fell in love with a dark aspect of his own soul.
And that aspect fell in love back. It was all very strange.
Shiro digs his nails into Ichigo's back]
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