What Fifteen-Year-Olds Do [R; Ichigo/Rukia]
Title: What Fifteen-Year-Olds Do
Author: worblehat
Genre: Bleach
Pairing: Ichigo/Rukia
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not my characters.
Note: Inspired by episode six, I think. This is unbeta'd wank fic, basically.
Word Count: 370
Kurosaki Ichigo, fifteen years old. Above-average student, fierce friend, substitute Death god.
Moaning.
Rukia slid back the closet door carefully. She peeked through the small line of vision, her eyes widening at the sight of Ichigo's body, half-exposed, blankets pulled down past his waist. She could see Ichigo's hand, moving back and forth over his body. Over...
Ichigo bit down, kicking the blankets still lower as if they were chains. He stretched one free hand behind him, gripping the pillow beneath his head tightly, arching up against the palm of his other hand. Rukia hissed and covered her mouth immediately, hoping Ichigo hand't heard; he didn't seem to, his hands moving faster over his cock, hard and visible in the dim light. Rukia tried not to realise how her own breathing seemed to be speeding up to match his; she tried to look away; she tried not to feel guilty about the fingers that slid beneath the yellow pajamas she'd borrowed, sliding against the skin of the faux body she'd gotten. It felt good, doing this - watching Ichigo like this, in a way she was pretty sure no one had seen before. She wondered briefly if he knew she was watching; if he cared; and hoped, in a way, that he did.
Her fingers slid back and forth, dipping inside when his breathing got loud enough for her to hear without straining her ears.
"Rukia..."
Her eyes widened, fingers stopping briefly. Had she heard right? Had he really said -
"...fuck, Rukia..."
Shivers passed through her body, head bowed lower, dark hair hiding her surprised eyes and burning cheeks. She watched carefully, enjoying the way Ichigo's body stretched upward, thrusting into his grip. She liked how he moaned, how her name was moaned from his lips.
"...ngh..."
Rukia's body shook as she came, coming harder when she strained to look at Ichigo, noting the white streams spilling from his cock against his hands, onto his stomach. She listened for her name, smiling, giving into the strangled warmth filling her veins.
"...Rukia," whispered Ichigo, closing his eyes.
"Ichi...go," she whispered back, closing the closet door.
Author: worblehat
Genre: Bleach
Pairing: Ichigo/Rukia
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not my characters.
Note: Inspired by episode six, I think. This is unbeta'd wank fic, basically.
Word Count: 370
Kurosaki Ichigo, fifteen years old. Above-average student, fierce friend, substitute Death god.
Moaning.
Rukia slid back the closet door carefully. She peeked through the small line of vision, her eyes widening at the sight of Ichigo's body, half-exposed, blankets pulled down past his waist. She could see Ichigo's hand, moving back and forth over his body. Over...
Ichigo bit down, kicking the blankets still lower as if they were chains. He stretched one free hand behind him, gripping the pillow beneath his head tightly, arching up against the palm of his other hand. Rukia hissed and covered her mouth immediately, hoping Ichigo hand't heard; he didn't seem to, his hands moving faster over his cock, hard and visible in the dim light. Rukia tried not to realise how her own breathing seemed to be speeding up to match his; she tried to look away; she tried not to feel guilty about the fingers that slid beneath the yellow pajamas she'd borrowed, sliding against the skin of the faux body she'd gotten. It felt good, doing this - watching Ichigo like this, in a way she was pretty sure no one had seen before. She wondered briefly if he knew she was watching; if he cared; and hoped, in a way, that he did.
Her fingers slid back and forth, dipping inside when his breathing got loud enough for her to hear without straining her ears.
"Rukia..."
Her eyes widened, fingers stopping briefly. Had she heard right? Had he really said -
"...fuck, Rukia..."
Shivers passed through her body, head bowed lower, dark hair hiding her surprised eyes and burning cheeks. She watched carefully, enjoying the way Ichigo's body stretched upward, thrusting into his grip. She liked how he moaned, how her name was moaned from his lips.
"...ngh..."
Rukia's body shook as she came, coming harder when she strained to look at Ichigo, noting the white streams spilling from his cock against his hands, onto his stomach. She listened for her name, smiling, giving into the strangled warmth filling her veins.
"...Rukia," whispered Ichigo, closing his eyes.
"Ichi...go," she whispered back, closing the closet door.