"Oasis"--IshiIchi for Jackie.
EDIT: FIC NOW COMPLETE, 4/21/07.
Title: Oasis
Author: thenakedcat, with coauthoring/beta-ing lotus_seed
Pairing: Ichigo/Uryuu, faintest hint of Isshin/Ryuuken.
Rating: R, for smut.
Dedication: For sublimeparadigm, because she writes much better pr0n than I do. Happy (very belated) birthday, Jackie!
This story is part of a much larger AU narrative created by myself and lotus_seed; I am in the process of gradually adapting the whole thing into a series of independent but interconnected stories within a single continuity. It was originally inspired by the splash page image of the Bleach gang in turbans and quasi-Persian garb, in the midst of a desert landscape.
From that single image, she and I started building up a desert world, inspired by the mythical tradition of The 1001 Arabian Nights and some real-life Islamic history and North African culture. I feel I must include the caveat, this is NOT meant to be taking place in 'the real world, and it is not an accurate historical or ethnographic portrayal; these elements have been manipulated by us for artistic effect. It's fiction, pure and simple.
Anyway, the real world background information is this: in age of the Islamic empires, there existed a secret order known as the Hashashim, or the Assassins, who would carry out political murders on the orders of their leader, the Old Man of the Mountain. They had a huge fortress as their base of operations in what is today the Holy Land. In this AU, the Shinigami are the Hashashim and their fortress is Seireitei.
But here they aren't terrorizing the ruling classes, they're killing djinn. In Islamic mythology, djinn are considered to be sentient beings made of fire, where humans are made of clay, and they are normally invisible to humans. Because they possess souls but are generally dangerous to run into, djinn are this world's equivalent of Hollows.
There is another group involved in protecting humans from djinn in this world, and that's the Quincies. Quincy culture here is based very loosely on the culture of the Saharan Tamasheq people. The Tamasheqs have shamanistic traditions that coexist with Islam, and they have the unusual custom of veiling their men, but not their women. They dye their clothing with indigo, and it tends to permanently stain their skin, so that they are known as the “Blue Men of the Desert”. In this story, the Quincy nomads worship Asshams--the deified sun. Sun-worship was pretty common in the pre-Islamic Middle East, for obvious reasons.
There's a lot more involved in this AU, but as long as you know the major groups, this story should make sense. Feel free to send in the men in white coats, now...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The dunes were turning into scarlet billows with the falling sun when Ichigo rode into the camp. He came in from the east, so while the low-angle rays blinded him the long, long shadows of the tents brushed him with cool darkness some moments before he crossed the invisible line between “desert” and “dwelling-place”.
As the horse slowed its rolling gait beneath him, he wondered if the Quincies inside the tents even recognized a division between their homes and the sands. Perhaps the great dunes were as much part of their lives and themselves as the walled courtyard of his father's house, where his younger sisters were even now watering the garden for the evening, was a part of his life and family. Or perhaps the desert meant something entirely different to them; he had heard the Sand Viper refer to it as “bitch, lover, and goddess”...but then the Viper might well call noon “midnight” just to spite it.
And he might well refuse to let a dusty Shinigami into his tent to seduce his son, which gave Ichigo a little fluttering in the belly as he dismounted and drew water for his horse and himself. Most everyone seemed to have retired to the tents already, but one young woman was outside to him. She tittered behind her hand, then ran off, doubtless to inform Uryuu that he had a night visitor. And inform the Viper that there was fresh meat ready for the kill. There went his element of surprise. Better start groveling now, to make sure he was warmed up before trying to enter the tent...
The woman was just sliding out through the flap of the Ishidas' tent as he walked up, and she didn't even bother to hide her laughter this time. He smiled at her despite it--wouldn't do to alienate Uryuu's kinsmen, even if they had their fun at his expense. As he stepped into the filtered light of the tent, his nerves were tensed for a screaming lecture, but they prickled with something very different when he saw Uryuu standing there waiting, giggling just like the young woman had been...and dressed just like a nubile bride ready to greet her husband, in silks and jewelry. If the bride had been tinged blue, very flat-chested, and elegant enough to make heads turn even veiled from head to toe.
Ichigo really ought to have found something more witty and romantic to say at that moment than, "OH SHI--", but then Uryuu had never loved him for his poetry. He didn't get a chance to finish, because the beautiful boy in the harem outfit smacked him in the face with the hem of his scarf.
"What are you standing there for, you witless assassin? The Viper's in conference with the elders and he won't finish ranting at them for hours yet. So GET MOVING! The whole point of clothes like these isn't to WEAR them, it's to take them off!"
The corners of Ichigo's mouth began to curve up; first into a smirk...then into a grin...then to tickle his ears. "Excuse me, but was that just an invitation to undress you?" Any snappish reply Uryuu might have had to that became a high-pitched "AIIIIIIIEEEEEE!" as Ichigo threw him onto his back on the sleeping mats. There was a merry jangling of bells on anklets and armbands, and hands already burrowing their way under the filmy skirts.
The lovemaking was abruptly cut short by the jolt of a kneecap against a sternum...which left Ichigo gasping like a trout, and Uryuu sitting over him looking thoroughly disapproving. "LET ME CLARIFY SOMETHING FOR YOU--I AM NOT A SACK OF LENTILS AND DO NOT APPRECIATE BEING TREATED AS ONE." He put his (scant) clothing back in order, and arranged himself in a pose that was halfway between regal and slutty. "Now, take my clothes off gently. And if you get me panting with desire in the process, I might even deign to let you be on top."
In moments like these, Ichigo began to see how his father could be captivated by the Viper even in his darkest and most demanding moods. Loving Uryuu was all ups and downs, jagged ecstatic peaks and sudden plunges, but his heart seemed to beat only when he was scaling those peaks or tumbling down into those chasms. He wheezed out a chuckle heavy with lust, and crawled his way across the mats, then up that slender body to look Uryuu in the eye. "You petty little tyrant. Like I'll LET you top me the second time, after you've taken my first." There was a small pale patch of skin behind Uryuu's ear that his tongue longed to taste, and he indulged it. Long thin fingers came up from their haughty idleness to hold his head in place and massage his scalp. "Can't have you thinking you'll get your way in everything, now can I?"
For all his obtuseness and his ridiculous innocence, Uryuu thought, allowing Ichigo to play with the hem of his skirt, he does learn so frightening-fast sometimes. The first time they had been together, in the back of that perverted merchant's shop, Ichigo had been awkward, blushing with the clumsiness of a society of solid walls and rooms with doors and locks. Not so Uryuu, raised in a tent in the middle of the vast desert, where flapping canvas was the greatest privacy available. That first time he had been very much in control. This time, he might still be barking orders, but the advantage was no longer so strong.
Those fingers weren't content with the skirt hem for long, not when the skin beneath was even silkier. They skimmed the sensitive place behind the knees; they progressed to the crease between hip and thigh. Head thrown back, Uryuu hummed under his breath, and considered. Open his legs too soon, and he might never train his overeager lover in the meaning of 'foreplay'...wait too long and...well, the consequences would be quite frustrating for both of them. In the end, what made up his mind was the exquisite prickling of his senses triggered by Ichigo's powers. He had not seen what the Viper had in Ichigo's future, could not guess what destiny those powers were meant to fulfill-but by the Sun, as long as they were that provocative, he ought to make good use of them.
When at last Ichigo had paid proper tribute to the rest of him, the little blue deva finally let his skirt settle in bunches around his hips, and his hips settle back into the mats in anticipation. His lover bent over him, hovering to take in the sight...and also to make sure that there were no more demands to satisfy before they got to the evening's main entertainment. Uryuu rolled his eyes, but leavened it with a kiss on the tip of his nose. “So are you going to be making love to me with that caftan still on? Because it seems just a little hot for that...”
“Viper-in-Training,” Ichigo muttered, slightly peeved that he had been so distracted by his lover from the moment he entered the tent that he had not even noticed he was sweating through his clothes. The robes flew off into an instantly-forgotten pile. He had not even realized how stuffy they'd become until they were discarded. Since his arrival, the evening breeze had picked up, and though it was a hot, sandy wind, it made the sweat on his skin chill. At the same time, heat was building in his gut, and the clash of hot and cold within his body was driving him onward.
Uryuu, on the other hand, did not feel the chill. Wherever Ichigo's fingers and lips had skimmed over him, his skin still glowed with the touch. “And you're the apprentice snake-charmer.” The arms that wrapped around Ichigo's neck radiated warmth, pulling him down towards the greater heat of Uryuu's body.
Ichigo sank eagerly into that heat, hissing with pleasure as their groins brushed, amazed as ever that their bodies fit together like one hand clasping another. When Uryuu began gently rolling his hips beneath him, the hissing became more like the whining of a stray dog. He pinned the thin blue-tinged wrists to the rug and lapped at the juncture of neck and shoulder until there was an answering moan from beneath him and the rolling turned into distinct thrusts upward.
The sweat was mingling on their torsos, sliding between them like the rain uniting heaven and earth, but it wasn't enough, they couldn't get enough of each other, enough of the glorious friction. So Uryuu sent one hand scrabbling across the mats to find that little clay jar that he never let his father lay eyes on. When it came back triumphant, he had to work to get a hand between their bodies long enough to spread the oil around. Ichigo didn't want to let an inch of skin break contact...until a dribble of the oil, warmed by the heat between them, trickled down across his groin.
His cock twitched eagerly, like dog's tail lashing in anticipation, and he pressed the slender blue-tinted thighs further apart. "Gonna let me tonight? Gonna let me?"
"Let me do my thiiiiiiiing," Uryuu hummed, arching beneath him, "Or I won't let you do yoooooooours..." It wasn't that he wasn't looking forward to having Ichigo inside him--THAT he'd been eagerly anticipating since their first night together. Rather, it was simply that Zangetsu was not the only big unsubtle sword in Ichigo's possession...which made indispensable certain precautions for dealing with fragile, highly pleasurable parts of the body. Fortunately, Ichigo was also highly unlikely to turn down a nice slippery handjob. He wrapped his slick hand around the hard length, and reveled in being able to bring an Assassin to helpless, panting submission just by teasing his slit and tracing light fingertips around his balls.
It was a considerable--and considerably pleasant--surprise to him when Ichigo had the foresight to pull away before reaching The Point of No Return; even more so when his lover reached for the oil. Uryuu had rather been expecting to have to make reminders at every step of the way, but it seemed that Ichigo had indeed learned something from their first time.
Ichigo took one dainty ankle, kissed it, gave the anklet a little jingle--Uryuu noted that the Shinigami was very fond of the musical noises accompanying their lovemaking; that was worth remembering--and then perched it on his shoulder. Hands found their way to the tight entrance with more confidence in their touch than on Ichigo's face, contorted in concentration so that Uryuu didn't know whether to laugh or kiss him for it. It might have become a real problem if Ichigo hadn't picked up SOMEthing from all his years around those dusty medical texts and had found very quickly how to make his Quincy scream with pleasure.
The first "Ohhhhhh Ichigo!" was its own reward, but by the time it had become, "Ride me already!!!" and there were tight muscles flexing around his fingertips, some relief was certainly called for. He hiked up Uryuu's other ankle, buried his face in the curve of his neck, and pressed his hips forward so very slowly. His eyes crossed from the intense yet incomplete pleasure and Uryuu gasped so hard his shoulders rose off the ground. That surge upwards drove Ichigo to wrap his arms around his lover (and his mouth around his lover's succulent shoulder) and pull him up and into his lap, ankles now around his waist.
They rocked back and forth in that pose, fucking and grinding and worshiping, for longer than either had expected to hold out. Uryuu was lost in the sensation of having Ichigo's power pounding into him, right into his body, waking up energies he'd never even known he possessed. It was intoxicating. Ichigo was held captive by the rush of jealous and protective urges that had coursed through him when he first saw Uryuu pinned beneath his cock, and didn't want to let him out of his arms. They were both young, however, and eventually the rocking became rougher and more rapid, their breath coming in pants and curses.
As they spiraled together higher and higher, like hawks circling, there came a moment where Ichigo thrust against that secret inner place, and Uryuu's breath caught in his throat, and his body and mind opened, naked in every sense. It was all there before Ichigo, shameless and unafraid. The sight of it, the knowledge that he had stripped the arrogant Quincy of all his proud defenses was more than he could take. He spilled his release inside his lover, and sloppily pressed his lips against blue collarbones, needing to taste Uryuu's pulse to know that he was still flesh and blood.
Uryuu clutched blindly at Ichigo, like a beacon in the night. The stars were fully out by now, yet for a moment he had been drenched in high noon sunlight, watching from the Great Eye as the years spread out before him. Years with Ichigo, years to explore the secrets of each other's bodies. Years to love and be loved. The vision had lasted only the barest moment, and then he had tumbled back down into himself, with dazzled eyes that now had to readjust to the darkness. The Viper could have said whether the vision was a true one or not, memorized every minute detail, held to it by the skin of his teeth until it gave up its secrets. Uryuu could hold onto only the barest shape of it, onto the ache of the joy, but that was all that he needed. Even if it had been only a dream, how could he ever not believe in a dream so beautiful?
Ichigo had no idea what had brought the determined, needy look to Uryuu's face, but he knew well enough what to do. Weaving their limbs together, he inched a blanket over both of them. They ought to get up and put up a curtain, drag the rugs that reeked of musk out to air, make some attempt to appear contrite about debauching the Viper's tent. But what they ought to do and needed to do never quite seemed to be the same. Better to take comfort while they could, and worry later about being thrown out into the dunes wearing nothing but a camel blanket.
Lulled by the press of familiar bodies and the satisfaction of a...job well done...the two boys drifted toward sleep together. Uryuu was already nodding when their ankles brushed together and his bells rang out again. Ichigo let out a giggle that trumped the incident with the butterflies and the hashish ANY day. The young Quincy settled back again, sighing.
If that was the biggest downside to eternity with Ichigo, he'd just have to get earplugs.
Cross-posted to kurosaki_clinic and ishi_ichi.
Title: Oasis
Author: thenakedcat, with coauthoring/beta-ing lotus_seed
Pairing: Ichigo/Uryuu, faintest hint of Isshin/Ryuuken.
Rating: R, for smut.
Dedication: For sublimeparadigm, because she writes much better pr0n than I do. Happy (very belated) birthday, Jackie!
This story is part of a much larger AU narrative created by myself and lotus_seed; I am in the process of gradually adapting the whole thing into a series of independent but interconnected stories within a single continuity. It was originally inspired by the splash page image of the Bleach gang in turbans and quasi-Persian garb, in the midst of a desert landscape.
From that single image, she and I started building up a desert world, inspired by the mythical tradition of The 1001 Arabian Nights and some real-life Islamic history and North African culture. I feel I must include the caveat, this is NOT meant to be taking place in 'the real world, and it is not an accurate historical or ethnographic portrayal; these elements have been manipulated by us for artistic effect. It's fiction, pure and simple.
Anyway, the real world background information is this: in age of the Islamic empires, there existed a secret order known as the Hashashim, or the Assassins, who would carry out political murders on the orders of their leader, the Old Man of the Mountain. They had a huge fortress as their base of operations in what is today the Holy Land. In this AU, the Shinigami are the Hashashim and their fortress is Seireitei.
But here they aren't terrorizing the ruling classes, they're killing djinn. In Islamic mythology, djinn are considered to be sentient beings made of fire, where humans are made of clay, and they are normally invisible to humans. Because they possess souls but are generally dangerous to run into, djinn are this world's equivalent of Hollows.
There is another group involved in protecting humans from djinn in this world, and that's the Quincies. Quincy culture here is based very loosely on the culture of the Saharan Tamasheq people. The Tamasheqs have shamanistic traditions that coexist with Islam, and they have the unusual custom of veiling their men, but not their women. They dye their clothing with indigo, and it tends to permanently stain their skin, so that they are known as the “Blue Men of the Desert”. In this story, the Quincy nomads worship Asshams--the deified sun. Sun-worship was pretty common in the pre-Islamic Middle East, for obvious reasons.
There's a lot more involved in this AU, but as long as you know the major groups, this story should make sense. Feel free to send in the men in white coats, now...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The dunes were turning into scarlet billows with the falling sun when Ichigo rode into the camp. He came in from the east, so while the low-angle rays blinded him the long, long shadows of the tents brushed him with cool darkness some moments before he crossed the invisible line between “desert” and “dwelling-place”.
As the horse slowed its rolling gait beneath him, he wondered if the Quincies inside the tents even recognized a division between their homes and the sands. Perhaps the great dunes were as much part of their lives and themselves as the walled courtyard of his father's house, where his younger sisters were even now watering the garden for the evening, was a part of his life and family. Or perhaps the desert meant something entirely different to them; he had heard the Sand Viper refer to it as “bitch, lover, and goddess”...but then the Viper might well call noon “midnight” just to spite it.
And he might well refuse to let a dusty Shinigami into his tent to seduce his son, which gave Ichigo a little fluttering in the belly as he dismounted and drew water for his horse and himself. Most everyone seemed to have retired to the tents already, but one young woman was outside to him. She tittered behind her hand, then ran off, doubtless to inform Uryuu that he had a night visitor. And inform the Viper that there was fresh meat ready for the kill. There went his element of surprise. Better start groveling now, to make sure he was warmed up before trying to enter the tent...
The woman was just sliding out through the flap of the Ishidas' tent as he walked up, and she didn't even bother to hide her laughter this time. He smiled at her despite it--wouldn't do to alienate Uryuu's kinsmen, even if they had their fun at his expense. As he stepped into the filtered light of the tent, his nerves were tensed for a screaming lecture, but they prickled with something very different when he saw Uryuu standing there waiting, giggling just like the young woman had been...and dressed just like a nubile bride ready to greet her husband, in silks and jewelry. If the bride had been tinged blue, very flat-chested, and elegant enough to make heads turn even veiled from head to toe.
Ichigo really ought to have found something more witty and romantic to say at that moment than, "OH SHI--", but then Uryuu had never loved him for his poetry. He didn't get a chance to finish, because the beautiful boy in the harem outfit smacked him in the face with the hem of his scarf.
"What are you standing there for, you witless assassin? The Viper's in conference with the elders and he won't finish ranting at them for hours yet. So GET MOVING! The whole point of clothes like these isn't to WEAR them, it's to take them off!"
The corners of Ichigo's mouth began to curve up; first into a smirk...then into a grin...then to tickle his ears. "Excuse me, but was that just an invitation to undress you?" Any snappish reply Uryuu might have had to that became a high-pitched "AIIIIIIIEEEEEE!" as Ichigo threw him onto his back on the sleeping mats. There was a merry jangling of bells on anklets and armbands, and hands already burrowing their way under the filmy skirts.
The lovemaking was abruptly cut short by the jolt of a kneecap against a sternum...which left Ichigo gasping like a trout, and Uryuu sitting over him looking thoroughly disapproving. "LET ME CLARIFY SOMETHING FOR YOU--I AM NOT A SACK OF LENTILS AND DO NOT APPRECIATE BEING TREATED AS ONE." He put his (scant) clothing back in order, and arranged himself in a pose that was halfway between regal and slutty. "Now, take my clothes off gently. And if you get me panting with desire in the process, I might even deign to let you be on top."
In moments like these, Ichigo began to see how his father could be captivated by the Viper even in his darkest and most demanding moods. Loving Uryuu was all ups and downs, jagged ecstatic peaks and sudden plunges, but his heart seemed to beat only when he was scaling those peaks or tumbling down into those chasms. He wheezed out a chuckle heavy with lust, and crawled his way across the mats, then up that slender body to look Uryuu in the eye. "You petty little tyrant. Like I'll LET you top me the second time, after you've taken my first." There was a small pale patch of skin behind Uryuu's ear that his tongue longed to taste, and he indulged it. Long thin fingers came up from their haughty idleness to hold his head in place and massage his scalp. "Can't have you thinking you'll get your way in everything, now can I?"
For all his obtuseness and his ridiculous innocence, Uryuu thought, allowing Ichigo to play with the hem of his skirt, he does learn so frightening-fast sometimes. The first time they had been together, in the back of that perverted merchant's shop, Ichigo had been awkward, blushing with the clumsiness of a society of solid walls and rooms with doors and locks. Not so Uryuu, raised in a tent in the middle of the vast desert, where flapping canvas was the greatest privacy available. That first time he had been very much in control. This time, he might still be barking orders, but the advantage was no longer so strong.
Those fingers weren't content with the skirt hem for long, not when the skin beneath was even silkier. They skimmed the sensitive place behind the knees; they progressed to the crease between hip and thigh. Head thrown back, Uryuu hummed under his breath, and considered. Open his legs too soon, and he might never train his overeager lover in the meaning of 'foreplay'...wait too long and...well, the consequences would be quite frustrating for both of them. In the end, what made up his mind was the exquisite prickling of his senses triggered by Ichigo's powers. He had not seen what the Viper had in Ichigo's future, could not guess what destiny those powers were meant to fulfill-but by the Sun, as long as they were that provocative, he ought to make good use of them.
When at last Ichigo had paid proper tribute to the rest of him, the little blue deva finally let his skirt settle in bunches around his hips, and his hips settle back into the mats in anticipation. His lover bent over him, hovering to take in the sight...and also to make sure that there were no more demands to satisfy before they got to the evening's main entertainment. Uryuu rolled his eyes, but leavened it with a kiss on the tip of his nose. “So are you going to be making love to me with that caftan still on? Because it seems just a little hot for that...”
“Viper-in-Training,” Ichigo muttered, slightly peeved that he had been so distracted by his lover from the moment he entered the tent that he had not even noticed he was sweating through his clothes. The robes flew off into an instantly-forgotten pile. He had not even realized how stuffy they'd become until they were discarded. Since his arrival, the evening breeze had picked up, and though it was a hot, sandy wind, it made the sweat on his skin chill. At the same time, heat was building in his gut, and the clash of hot and cold within his body was driving him onward.
Uryuu, on the other hand, did not feel the chill. Wherever Ichigo's fingers and lips had skimmed over him, his skin still glowed with the touch. “And you're the apprentice snake-charmer.” The arms that wrapped around Ichigo's neck radiated warmth, pulling him down towards the greater heat of Uryuu's body.
Ichigo sank eagerly into that heat, hissing with pleasure as their groins brushed, amazed as ever that their bodies fit together like one hand clasping another. When Uryuu began gently rolling his hips beneath him, the hissing became more like the whining of a stray dog. He pinned the thin blue-tinged wrists to the rug and lapped at the juncture of neck and shoulder until there was an answering moan from beneath him and the rolling turned into distinct thrusts upward.
The sweat was mingling on their torsos, sliding between them like the rain uniting heaven and earth, but it wasn't enough, they couldn't get enough of each other, enough of the glorious friction. So Uryuu sent one hand scrabbling across the mats to find that little clay jar that he never let his father lay eyes on. When it came back triumphant, he had to work to get a hand between their bodies long enough to spread the oil around. Ichigo didn't want to let an inch of skin break contact...until a dribble of the oil, warmed by the heat between them, trickled down across his groin.
His cock twitched eagerly, like dog's tail lashing in anticipation, and he pressed the slender blue-tinted thighs further apart. "Gonna let me tonight? Gonna let me?"
"Let me do my thiiiiiiiing," Uryuu hummed, arching beneath him, "Or I won't let you do yoooooooours..." It wasn't that he wasn't looking forward to having Ichigo inside him--THAT he'd been eagerly anticipating since their first night together. Rather, it was simply that Zangetsu was not the only big unsubtle sword in Ichigo's possession...which made indispensable certain precautions for dealing with fragile, highly pleasurable parts of the body. Fortunately, Ichigo was also highly unlikely to turn down a nice slippery handjob. He wrapped his slick hand around the hard length, and reveled in being able to bring an Assassin to helpless, panting submission just by teasing his slit and tracing light fingertips around his balls.
It was a considerable--and considerably pleasant--surprise to him when Ichigo had the foresight to pull away before reaching The Point of No Return; even more so when his lover reached for the oil. Uryuu had rather been expecting to have to make reminders at every step of the way, but it seemed that Ichigo had indeed learned something from their first time.
Ichigo took one dainty ankle, kissed it, gave the anklet a little jingle--Uryuu noted that the Shinigami was very fond of the musical noises accompanying their lovemaking; that was worth remembering--and then perched it on his shoulder. Hands found their way to the tight entrance with more confidence in their touch than on Ichigo's face, contorted in concentration so that Uryuu didn't know whether to laugh or kiss him for it. It might have become a real problem if Ichigo hadn't picked up SOMEthing from all his years around those dusty medical texts and had found very quickly how to make his Quincy scream with pleasure.
The first "Ohhhhhh Ichigo!" was its own reward, but by the time it had become, "Ride me already!!!" and there were tight muscles flexing around his fingertips, some relief was certainly called for. He hiked up Uryuu's other ankle, buried his face in the curve of his neck, and pressed his hips forward so very slowly. His eyes crossed from the intense yet incomplete pleasure and Uryuu gasped so hard his shoulders rose off the ground. That surge upwards drove Ichigo to wrap his arms around his lover (and his mouth around his lover's succulent shoulder) and pull him up and into his lap, ankles now around his waist.
They rocked back and forth in that pose, fucking and grinding and worshiping, for longer than either had expected to hold out. Uryuu was lost in the sensation of having Ichigo's power pounding into him, right into his body, waking up energies he'd never even known he possessed. It was intoxicating. Ichigo was held captive by the rush of jealous and protective urges that had coursed through him when he first saw Uryuu pinned beneath his cock, and didn't want to let him out of his arms. They were both young, however, and eventually the rocking became rougher and more rapid, their breath coming in pants and curses.
As they spiraled together higher and higher, like hawks circling, there came a moment where Ichigo thrust against that secret inner place, and Uryuu's breath caught in his throat, and his body and mind opened, naked in every sense. It was all there before Ichigo, shameless and unafraid. The sight of it, the knowledge that he had stripped the arrogant Quincy of all his proud defenses was more than he could take. He spilled his release inside his lover, and sloppily pressed his lips against blue collarbones, needing to taste Uryuu's pulse to know that he was still flesh and blood.
Uryuu clutched blindly at Ichigo, like a beacon in the night. The stars were fully out by now, yet for a moment he had been drenched in high noon sunlight, watching from the Great Eye as the years spread out before him. Years with Ichigo, years to explore the secrets of each other's bodies. Years to love and be loved. The vision had lasted only the barest moment, and then he had tumbled back down into himself, with dazzled eyes that now had to readjust to the darkness. The Viper could have said whether the vision was a true one or not, memorized every minute detail, held to it by the skin of his teeth until it gave up its secrets. Uryuu could hold onto only the barest shape of it, onto the ache of the joy, but that was all that he needed. Even if it had been only a dream, how could he ever not believe in a dream so beautiful?
Ichigo had no idea what had brought the determined, needy look to Uryuu's face, but he knew well enough what to do. Weaving their limbs together, he inched a blanket over both of them. They ought to get up and put up a curtain, drag the rugs that reeked of musk out to air, make some attempt to appear contrite about debauching the Viper's tent. But what they ought to do and needed to do never quite seemed to be the same. Better to take comfort while they could, and worry later about being thrown out into the dunes wearing nothing but a camel blanket.
Lulled by the press of familiar bodies and the satisfaction of a...job well done...the two boys drifted toward sleep together. Uryuu was already nodding when their ankles brushed together and his bells rang out again. Ichigo let out a giggle that trumped the incident with the butterflies and the hashish ANY day. The young Quincy settled back again, sighing.
If that was the biggest downside to eternity with Ichigo, he'd just have to get earplugs.
Cross-posted to kurosaki_clinic and ishi_ichi.