[Bleach] Time of Your Life - Isshin + Urahara
Title: Time of Your Life
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Isshin, Kisuke
Notes: Speed ficcing with
bellumina and
mysocalledhell and
nikita_cheri111. Prompt was “Betrayal, that's your favorite word, isn't it?” “No, Cruelty. It has a nobler ring to it.” My brain died on me last night before I finished this, but all I really did this morning was add a bit to the end. Ugh, I should have chosen a better pair of characters, guys, I tell ya. In other news, why the hell won’t my nose stop running?! Ewwwy. *just feels … kind of blah today, in general* *groans and hopes she’s not getting sick* Curse my freakin’ stupid immune system that’s always saying f--- you.
“Why do ya look at me with those sad eyes, like I’ll do somethin’ ‘bout it? Make ya better, make ya whole, who do ya think yer looking at?”
“I … hm, well, I thought I was looking at a friend.” There’s a bark of a laugh in the cold, frosty air of the room, ringing empty in a more than empty place. “Is there something funny? I don’t believe I was trying for funny.”
“A friend? Friends don’t usually, ya know, fuck each other.”
A bristling as someone makes displeasure known. A nose is scrunched up, another laugh is had. “Excuse me. I don’t believe I’ve ever fucked you.”
“Yea, that’s right, aren’t ya usually the one takin’ it?” The tease is had, setting the other on edge even more as hands are balled into fists. “How ‘bout we just quit the chattin’, Ki-su-ke-chan … how ‘bout you show me how pretty and sad those eyes can get?”
“I wish you’d stop it, Isshin. You want me or you hate me, choose, because I sure as hell can’t take this any more.”
“Take what?” There’s a short chuckle and then fingers are tipping a chin up, to see those eyes better and to make it known that’s what he wants to see. “Can’t take what? The game ya started? The game ya can’t follow through with?” A murmur of disagreement is made as a dark head is lowered to bite at an exposed neck, teeth racking along to redden skin and a tongue darting out to soothe the pain. “I think ya like it, though.” A hand presses down on the raised fabric of a hakama, groping a bit more than necessary to get a further rise out of the blond. A groan answers, hips are raised in sudden agreement and want, and fingers are already undoing the sash around a waist. Lips struggle to meet as clothes are discarded, piece by piece.
One minute there’s a hand in blond hair and next black is tangled and pulled. Each movement is more desperate than the next as they fight to have the other, as they fight to have control over the situation that slowly slips from their grasps - because that is what this is about, control. It isn’t about want or need or desire. It’s about control; and Urahara Kisuke dislikes that Isshin is possibly the only one that can make him lose his careful control.
--
“Your son sure has grown.”
Isshin shrugged, stifling a yawn as he waited for the man he sat beside to get to the point of why he had been called out for a round of drinks. “What’cha want, Urahara?”
A fan slipped out to hide a rather unconventional grin behind it. “Weeeell, I figured you’d like to be the first to know.”
“And what’s that?” Dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. “If ya so much as tell me my son has become a conquest of yours, I’ll personally castrate yer ass.”
It was Kisuke’s turn to shrug. “Not me you have to worry about, Kurosaki. Try that Ishida. And let’s just say it’s a bit more personal than you would like it to be.”
Isshin couldn’t find words for a moment. But then his usual smile twisted into a grimace and he asked the question that was now lurking in the back of his mind. “Y-Yer not seriously talkin’ about Ryuuken, are ya?”
The fan started leisurely producing forth a soft, comforting breeze for Kisuke to enjoy. “Of course, Kurosaki. Who else would have a vendetta against you? You broke his little heart!”
--
“Found a better fuck, have you?” There is a bitter sort of amusement to that strained voice. “Well, can’t really say I didn’t see it coming.”
“S-She’s wonderful, though, Kisuke! So much more … I dunno, she’s everythin’ a guy could ask for, ya know?”
A shrug and a wry curl of lips to placate with a smile. “Fine, fine. Whatever floats your boat.” Cold fingers of dread play at his chest, but then he figures that’s just Isshin toying with his heart one last time. “Have fun with your little human whore.”
There’s a wince and a dramatic, “Don’t go callin’ her that, Ki-su-ke!”
--
“His wasn’t the only heart I remember breakin’,” Isshin grumbled, taking a swig from his drink. “Jeez, Kisuke, ya act like I meant absolutely nothin’ to ya.”
“Perhaps you didn’t?” intoned Kisuke dryly, still fanning himself. “You shouldn’t be so confident that every broken heart is because of you.”
Isshin smiled as winningly as he could. “I like to try, anyway.”
“Didn’t you have yours broken once?”
“… Just once.”
“Didn’t you learn anything?”
“ … I learned how much it hurts, maybe, but that’s about it.”
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Isshin, Kisuke
Notes: Speed ficcing with
bellumina and
mysocalledhell and
nikita_cheri111. Prompt was “Betrayal, that's your favorite word, isn't it?” “No, Cruelty. It has a nobler ring to it.” My brain died on me last night before I finished this, but all I really did this morning was add a bit to the end. Ugh, I should have chosen a better pair of characters, guys, I tell ya. In other news, why the hell won’t my nose stop running?! Ewwwy. *just feels … kind of blah today, in general* *groans and hopes she’s not getting sick* Curse my freakin’ stupid immune system that’s always saying f--- you.
“Why do ya look at me with those sad eyes, like I’ll do somethin’ ‘bout it? Make ya better, make ya whole, who do ya think yer looking at?”
“I … hm, well, I thought I was looking at a friend.” There’s a bark of a laugh in the cold, frosty air of the room, ringing empty in a more than empty place. “Is there something funny? I don’t believe I was trying for funny.”
“A friend? Friends don’t usually, ya know, fuck each other.”
A bristling as someone makes displeasure known. A nose is scrunched up, another laugh is had. “Excuse me. I don’t believe I’ve ever fucked you.”
“Yea, that’s right, aren’t ya usually the one takin’ it?” The tease is had, setting the other on edge even more as hands are balled into fists. “How ‘bout we just quit the chattin’, Ki-su-ke-chan … how ‘bout you show me how pretty and sad those eyes can get?”
“I wish you’d stop it, Isshin. You want me or you hate me, choose, because I sure as hell can’t take this any more.”
“Take what?” There’s a short chuckle and then fingers are tipping a chin up, to see those eyes better and to make it known that’s what he wants to see. “Can’t take what? The game ya started? The game ya can’t follow through with?” A murmur of disagreement is made as a dark head is lowered to bite at an exposed neck, teeth racking along to redden skin and a tongue darting out to soothe the pain. “I think ya like it, though.” A hand presses down on the raised fabric of a hakama, groping a bit more than necessary to get a further rise out of the blond. A groan answers, hips are raised in sudden agreement and want, and fingers are already undoing the sash around a waist. Lips struggle to meet as clothes are discarded, piece by piece.
One minute there’s a hand in blond hair and next black is tangled and pulled. Each movement is more desperate than the next as they fight to have the other, as they fight to have control over the situation that slowly slips from their grasps - because that is what this is about, control. It isn’t about want or need or desire. It’s about control; and Urahara Kisuke dislikes that Isshin is possibly the only one that can make him lose his careful control.
--
“Your son sure has grown.”
Isshin shrugged, stifling a yawn as he waited for the man he sat beside to get to the point of why he had been called out for a round of drinks. “What’cha want, Urahara?”
A fan slipped out to hide a rather unconventional grin behind it. “Weeeell, I figured you’d like to be the first to know.”
“And what’s that?” Dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. “If ya so much as tell me my son has become a conquest of yours, I’ll personally castrate yer ass.”
It was Kisuke’s turn to shrug. “Not me you have to worry about, Kurosaki. Try that Ishida. And let’s just say it’s a bit more personal than you would like it to be.”
Isshin couldn’t find words for a moment. But then his usual smile twisted into a grimace and he asked the question that was now lurking in the back of his mind. “Y-Yer not seriously talkin’ about Ryuuken, are ya?”
The fan started leisurely producing forth a soft, comforting breeze for Kisuke to enjoy. “Of course, Kurosaki. Who else would have a vendetta against you? You broke his little heart!”
--
“Found a better fuck, have you?” There is a bitter sort of amusement to that strained voice. “Well, can’t really say I didn’t see it coming.”
“S-She’s wonderful, though, Kisuke! So much more … I dunno, she’s everythin’ a guy could ask for, ya know?”
A shrug and a wry curl of lips to placate with a smile. “Fine, fine. Whatever floats your boat.” Cold fingers of dread play at his chest, but then he figures that’s just Isshin toying with his heart one last time. “Have fun with your little human whore.”
There’s a wince and a dramatic, “Don’t go callin’ her that, Ki-su-ke!”
--
“His wasn’t the only heart I remember breakin’,” Isshin grumbled, taking a swig from his drink. “Jeez, Kisuke, ya act like I meant absolutely nothin’ to ya.”
“Perhaps you didn’t?” intoned Kisuke dryly, still fanning himself. “You shouldn’t be so confident that every broken heart is because of you.”
Isshin smiled as winningly as he could. “I like to try, anyway.”
“Didn’t you have yours broken once?”
“… Just once.”
“Didn’t you learn anything?”
“ … I learned how much it hurts, maybe, but that’s about it.”