Dawn - Happy Bday figaro~
Title: Dawn
Pairing: Kiichigo
POV: Urahara’s
Rating: K+
Genre: Romance/General
Words: 864
Warning: I fear OOCness; other than that BL;
Dedication: figaro_figaro again. Happy Birthday Figaro! I wish ya all the happiness and love in the world and a harem full of Bleach bishies for your every command! Sorry I'm so lame and can serve you only this.
Beta: nope, since I was in a hurry.
A/N: 9th in the Cuddling Time series. Companion fic to ‘Dew’, a bit rushed so I’d make it in time for figaro’s bday. Ah, it seems inspiration hits me at late hours - started writing around 2 a.m.;
--
It didn’t really matter when it started. It might have been when the boy entered his shop with the desire to regain his powers in order to save Rukia. It might have been earlier - when he and Tessai patched his wounds after his encounter with Byakuya. It might have been later, during one of the orange heads frequent visits to train, to plan a battle, to chat.
Or it might have simply always been there inside him. The scorching feeling bursting his chest. Making him painfully aware of the young Shinigami Substitutes presence. Causing him to yearn for the boy, to look for a chance to brush against him and violate his personal space.
It made him follow the boy’s every move from under the rim of his hat with his grey eyes hidden in its shade. To dream of him, of that young body beneath him twisting in pleasure; of that beautiful face all read and sweaty and teary and begging for more; of those peachy lips parted, indulged in a kiss, gasping for air releasing moan after sweet moan or wrapped around him and devouring him whole. Of those brown eyes set on him and only him and holding his gaze as he drowned in them.
Coming to terms with it was easy. He lived far too long to be afraid of acknowledging his own feelings. It was the guilt that bothered him and sometimes made facing Ichigo difficult.
Being friends with Isshin, the fact that he trained the boy and could call him his student, the huge age gap, or simply that Ichigo was still very much alive.
He was so beautiful, so young, so painfully innocent and naïve in his stubborn resolve. Ichigo was unmarred by greed, hate, wrath or sin. Even though his body wore reminders of countless battles, scars no teenager should have, even though he shed so much blood the orange head never gave up and moved forward no matter the obstacles.
And he? He was a cunning genius with a grave sin weighting on his soul. How could he even dare dream of the boy?
But even though he knew all that he couldn’t quite control himself. He teased the Strawberry whenever he could relishing in that delicious blush that adorned Ichigo’s cheeks and made him all the more attractive and difficult to resist. He always managed to keep his mask on and never let any unnecessary word slip from his lips. He was after all a master at keeping secrets and avoiding straight answers.
The moment Ichigo started falling for him he his façade began to slip.
He watched the boy for a long time already so it was easy to notice the change in him.
It was in the way he always seemed to look for him with his gaze and looked away every time Urahara caught him staring. It was in the way he watched his every move and blushed when they were too close.
It was in the way he moved, in the alluring sway of his hips reserved for the blonde only. It was in the way he acted - all self-conscious and always on the edge.
It was in the way he scowled less around him and in his still rare, but soft smiles. It was in the way his eyes dulled whenever he was lost in thought, in his forlorn expression. In his distress.
When Ichigo started jogging night after night till the sunrise, till he had to go to school killing the Hollows in his place was something Kisuke didn’t think much about. He didn’t try to rationalize it, to admit that he tried to give the orange head some space so he could come into terms with himself, to acknowledge his feelings for the blonde. He just followed him making sure that nothing bad happened to him and desperately tried not to hope.
“Are you alright, Kurosaki-kun?”
But as he looked at Ichigo sprawled there on the ground, after he slipped on the wet grass, the dew blinking in the first rays of the morning sun as the sky cleared and the boy’s eyes bright with light he couldn’t really help but expect that the orange head chose to care for him.
“Kurosaki-kun?” He crouched next to him to see his expression clearly, to make sure. “Is something wrong?”
The moment Ichigo smiled all doubts, everything that made him feel guilty about the feelings and desires he harbored for the teenager disappeared and he couldn’t recall why he had second thoughts in the first place.
“I’m okay.”
It was surprising how a simple smile could change his features so much, how it made him look so sublime, so ethereal and even more beautiful than he already was. He took Kisuke’s breath away.
“Are you really?”
The feeling of their skin touching, the way Ichigo held his hand as he offered to help him get up.
“Yeah. I am now.”
The way Ichigo’s answer resonated in his heart Urahara knew that he couldn’t go on without that boy and that there was nothing that could make him run away from his feelings anymore.
Not even Isshin’s medical tools.
Pairing: Kiichigo
POV: Urahara’s
Rating: K+
Genre: Romance/General
Words: 864
Warning: I fear OOCness; other than that BL;
Dedication: figaro_figaro again. Happy Birthday Figaro! I wish ya all the happiness and love in the world and a harem full of Bleach bishies for your every command! Sorry I'm so lame and can serve you only this.
Beta: nope, since I was in a hurry.
A/N: 9th in the Cuddling Time series. Companion fic to ‘Dew’, a bit rushed so I’d make it in time for figaro’s bday. Ah, it seems inspiration hits me at late hours - started writing around 2 a.m.;
--
It didn’t really matter when it started. It might have been when the boy entered his shop with the desire to regain his powers in order to save Rukia. It might have been earlier - when he and Tessai patched his wounds after his encounter with Byakuya. It might have been later, during one of the orange heads frequent visits to train, to plan a battle, to chat.
Or it might have simply always been there inside him. The scorching feeling bursting his chest. Making him painfully aware of the young Shinigami Substitutes presence. Causing him to yearn for the boy, to look for a chance to brush against him and violate his personal space.
It made him follow the boy’s every move from under the rim of his hat with his grey eyes hidden in its shade. To dream of him, of that young body beneath him twisting in pleasure; of that beautiful face all read and sweaty and teary and begging for more; of those peachy lips parted, indulged in a kiss, gasping for air releasing moan after sweet moan or wrapped around him and devouring him whole. Of those brown eyes set on him and only him and holding his gaze as he drowned in them.
Coming to terms with it was easy. He lived far too long to be afraid of acknowledging his own feelings. It was the guilt that bothered him and sometimes made facing Ichigo difficult.
Being friends with Isshin, the fact that he trained the boy and could call him his student, the huge age gap, or simply that Ichigo was still very much alive.
He was so beautiful, so young, so painfully innocent and naïve in his stubborn resolve. Ichigo was unmarred by greed, hate, wrath or sin. Even though his body wore reminders of countless battles, scars no teenager should have, even though he shed so much blood the orange head never gave up and moved forward no matter the obstacles.
And he? He was a cunning genius with a grave sin weighting on his soul. How could he even dare dream of the boy?
But even though he knew all that he couldn’t quite control himself. He teased the Strawberry whenever he could relishing in that delicious blush that adorned Ichigo’s cheeks and made him all the more attractive and difficult to resist. He always managed to keep his mask on and never let any unnecessary word slip from his lips. He was after all a master at keeping secrets and avoiding straight answers.
The moment Ichigo started falling for him he his façade began to slip.
He watched the boy for a long time already so it was easy to notice the change in him.
It was in the way he always seemed to look for him with his gaze and looked away every time Urahara caught him staring. It was in the way he watched his every move and blushed when they were too close.
It was in the way he moved, in the alluring sway of his hips reserved for the blonde only. It was in the way he acted - all self-conscious and always on the edge.
It was in the way he scowled less around him and in his still rare, but soft smiles. It was in the way his eyes dulled whenever he was lost in thought, in his forlorn expression. In his distress.
When Ichigo started jogging night after night till the sunrise, till he had to go to school killing the Hollows in his place was something Kisuke didn’t think much about. He didn’t try to rationalize it, to admit that he tried to give the orange head some space so he could come into terms with himself, to acknowledge his feelings for the blonde. He just followed him making sure that nothing bad happened to him and desperately tried not to hope.
“Are you alright, Kurosaki-kun?”
But as he looked at Ichigo sprawled there on the ground, after he slipped on the wet grass, the dew blinking in the first rays of the morning sun as the sky cleared and the boy’s eyes bright with light he couldn’t really help but expect that the orange head chose to care for him.
“Kurosaki-kun?” He crouched next to him to see his expression clearly, to make sure. “Is something wrong?”
The moment Ichigo smiled all doubts, everything that made him feel guilty about the feelings and desires he harbored for the teenager disappeared and he couldn’t recall why he had second thoughts in the first place.
“I’m okay.”
It was surprising how a simple smile could change his features so much, how it made him look so sublime, so ethereal and even more beautiful than he already was. He took Kisuke’s breath away.
“Are you really?”
The feeling of their skin touching, the way Ichigo held his hand as he offered to help him get up.
“Yeah. I am now.”
The way Ichigo’s answer resonated in his heart Urahara knew that he couldn’t go on without that boy and that there was nothing that could make him run away from his feelings anymore.
Not even Isshin’s medical tools.