‘You’re It’ [#1] [YoxUr] [Bleach]
Title :: ‘You’re It’
Theme :: #1, “look over here” [30_kisses]
Pairing :: Yoruichi/Urahara
Rating :: PG
Wordcount :: 350
Summary :: In the beginning it had been a game.
In the beginning it had been a game (chase outrun catch but never mine), a diversion, an outlet for energies that could not be matched elsewhere. It wasn’t like one of his experiments - here, he knew the outcome beyond a doubt, and somehow that was the most exhilarating part of all. (He didn’t have to look to know that she was either matching pace at his side or taunting him from just a step ahead.)
They disregarded predictability amidst playfulness, pushed themselves harder to ignore the fact the games always ended the same (a tangled smear of lips and skin and laughter).
Ranks changed, responsibilities piled; through it all, her voice remained his sharp-edged constant. And it was almost embarrassing, he thought later, that she had figured it all out before him.
But even the knowledge didn’t shake her, when the rest of the Soul Society was crumbling around their ears.
Centres of gravity shifted, but at least they could still fall together, and on the first morning in the human world he woke up in her arms.
He wouldn’t have wanted to get up, but she had other ideas, elbowing him mercilessly in the side and quirking a smile against his mouth.
“If I went to all this trouble for you, then you’re damn well going to keep up with me.”
And as always, she was right, and he listened.
“You’re not getting rid of me now,” he countered with a lazy grin, words both comfort and impish threat, and his eyes opened to meet hers. Her own were dark as she shifted to straddle his hips and pin him beneath her, and he knew from their familiar spark and the tenseness in her thighs that she was about to spring. And he knew that he would chase after, and that somewhere in the process they’d explore their latest domain. (Neither of them needed to say This is all we have now, not when the knowledge was - for once - laid blatantly bare in the silence.)
When one ran, the other would inevitably follow, and maybe that would be enough.
Theme :: #1, “look over here” [30_kisses]
Pairing :: Yoruichi/Urahara
Rating :: PG
Wordcount :: 350
Summary :: In the beginning it had been a game.
In the beginning it had been a game (chase outrun catch but never mine), a diversion, an outlet for energies that could not be matched elsewhere. It wasn’t like one of his experiments - here, he knew the outcome beyond a doubt, and somehow that was the most exhilarating part of all. (He didn’t have to look to know that she was either matching pace at his side or taunting him from just a step ahead.)
They disregarded predictability amidst playfulness, pushed themselves harder to ignore the fact the games always ended the same (a tangled smear of lips and skin and laughter).
Ranks changed, responsibilities piled; through it all, her voice remained his sharp-edged constant. And it was almost embarrassing, he thought later, that she had figured it all out before him.
But even the knowledge didn’t shake her, when the rest of the Soul Society was crumbling around their ears.
Centres of gravity shifted, but at least they could still fall together, and on the first morning in the human world he woke up in her arms.
He wouldn’t have wanted to get up, but she had other ideas, elbowing him mercilessly in the side and quirking a smile against his mouth.
“If I went to all this trouble for you, then you’re damn well going to keep up with me.”
And as always, she was right, and he listened.
“You’re not getting rid of me now,” he countered with a lazy grin, words both comfort and impish threat, and his eyes opened to meet hers. Her own were dark as she shifted to straddle his hips and pin him beneath her, and he knew from their familiar spark and the tenseness in her thighs that she was about to spring. And he knew that he would chase after, and that somewhere in the process they’d explore their latest domain. (Neither of them needed to say This is all we have now, not when the knowledge was - for once - laid blatantly bare in the silence.)
When one ran, the other would inevitably follow, and maybe that would be enough.