Renji/Ichigo: Despondent
Title: Despondent
Pairing: Renji/Ichigo
Genre: Drama/Romance
Warnings: spoilers for the manga, hopeless drama, boylove;
Rating: K+
Words: ~700
Prequel to Goodbyes
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of the charasters. Kubo does.
Summary: He hoped he'd never learn the desperate feelings that were overcoming him now. It felt too much like death.
--
When he woke up that day after long hours of sleep he was surprised that his world hasn't yet collapsed. He wondered why his powers still clung to him, though maybe it was his subconsciousness holding desperately onto his powers, on the last threads of his reiatsu so that he could bid his farewells.
He listened to his worried friends replying and calming the fussing Orihime down when necessary, but his eyes roamed over their faces searching for the one person that he needed to see the most while he still could.
So he escaped when they weren't paying attention, slipping out of their motherly care, and with the lasts of his abilities he sought and found the spirit pressure that tasted so much of mixture grief.
He could see so many emotions in those brown orbs regarding him when he appeared before the redhead. The man knew he'd come, hoped he'd still be able to see - Ichigo saw it in his eyes, the little flicker that came into sight as soon as he set foot on the grass.
The big, strong and badmouthed Renji that he knew looked so forlorn sitting there near the river bank. Neither of them liked showing their weaknesses, neither of them ever wanted to. Ichigo could barely stand the sight. It wasn't like him to act like that, but the vulnerability that the man showed him spoke so much of trust.
There were so many things that he wanted to tell him, but the only thing he managed was an apology in a voice that was far too meek to be his.
Renji stood up and only shook his head before he grabbed onto him bruising his lips with a kiss so searing that it ripped Ichigo's soul to shreds. The touch of that mouth should have been familiar by now, yet none of the kisses before scorched him so much. None of them scared with such intensity. It tasted of abandon and remorse, of the feeling they never named. It was a fire like liquid, melting him...
He really wanted to melt with the kiss so that he could have even the slightest chance to become a part of him. So that Renji could take him with him. So that they wouldn't have to part.
He hoped he'd never learn the desperate feelings that were overcoming him now. It felt too much like death. It tasted of ash and he feared he'd turn into dust under his gaze as Renji broke away. So he surged back in unwilling to let the man get a taste of air. His touch was insistent and he pulled on those long, vivid-colored strands as if everything depended on it, pulling Renji as close as humanly possible.
He wasn't alone in his need for nearness. Renji's hold on his face was crushing but welcome. Ichigo needed all the sensations he could get while with him; he wanted to engrave them all in his skin, in his mind and soul. He wanted to always be able to recall the way his calloused hands skimmed over his flesh, the way his eyes burned tracks over his form setting him ablaze.
He wanted to remember the texture of his lips, the marks his teeth would imprint and - most importantly - the taste. A savage rich mouthful with a wicked taint of blood. Renji tasted of life so much that he made him feel dead sometimes when they weren't kissing, when his mouth was an inch too far away. His taste was lucid, it was grave. Like the sweetest sin. It was everything he needed, all he ever craved.
Ichigo realized that this was possibly the last time, the last taste. Something inside of him shattered so severely that the tinge of blood in the kiss overpowered everything. It left them both despondent as they parted.
It was almost time. He could feel it; the dark weight in the pit of his stomach, the emptiness spreading with the blood running in his veins. Desperately he held onto the last tidbits of his reiatsu to prolong the moment together even if just by a second.
Even if he knew it was futile.
Pairing: Renji/Ichigo
Genre: Drama/Romance
Warnings: spoilers for the manga, hopeless drama, boylove;
Rating: K+
Words: ~700
Prequel to Goodbyes
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of the charasters. Kubo does.
Summary: He hoped he'd never learn the desperate feelings that were overcoming him now. It felt too much like death.
--
When he woke up that day after long hours of sleep he was surprised that his world hasn't yet collapsed. He wondered why his powers still clung to him, though maybe it was his subconsciousness holding desperately onto his powers, on the last threads of his reiatsu so that he could bid his farewells.
He listened to his worried friends replying and calming the fussing Orihime down when necessary, but his eyes roamed over their faces searching for the one person that he needed to see the most while he still could.
So he escaped when they weren't paying attention, slipping out of their motherly care, and with the lasts of his abilities he sought and found the spirit pressure that tasted so much of mixture grief.
He could see so many emotions in those brown orbs regarding him when he appeared before the redhead. The man knew he'd come, hoped he'd still be able to see - Ichigo saw it in his eyes, the little flicker that came into sight as soon as he set foot on the grass.
The big, strong and badmouthed Renji that he knew looked so forlorn sitting there near the river bank. Neither of them liked showing their weaknesses, neither of them ever wanted to. Ichigo could barely stand the sight. It wasn't like him to act like that, but the vulnerability that the man showed him spoke so much of trust.
There were so many things that he wanted to tell him, but the only thing he managed was an apology in a voice that was far too meek to be his.
Renji stood up and only shook his head before he grabbed onto him bruising his lips with a kiss so searing that it ripped Ichigo's soul to shreds. The touch of that mouth should have been familiar by now, yet none of the kisses before scorched him so much. None of them scared with such intensity. It tasted of abandon and remorse, of the feeling they never named. It was a fire like liquid, melting him...
He really wanted to melt with the kiss so that he could have even the slightest chance to become a part of him. So that Renji could take him with him. So that they wouldn't have to part.
He hoped he'd never learn the desperate feelings that were overcoming him now. It felt too much like death. It tasted of ash and he feared he'd turn into dust under his gaze as Renji broke away. So he surged back in unwilling to let the man get a taste of air. His touch was insistent and he pulled on those long, vivid-colored strands as if everything depended on it, pulling Renji as close as humanly possible.
He wasn't alone in his need for nearness. Renji's hold on his face was crushing but welcome. Ichigo needed all the sensations he could get while with him; he wanted to engrave them all in his skin, in his mind and soul. He wanted to always be able to recall the way his calloused hands skimmed over his flesh, the way his eyes burned tracks over his form setting him ablaze.
He wanted to remember the texture of his lips, the marks his teeth would imprint and - most importantly - the taste. A savage rich mouthful with a wicked taint of blood. Renji tasted of life so much that he made him feel dead sometimes when they weren't kissing, when his mouth was an inch too far away. His taste was lucid, it was grave. Like the sweetest sin. It was everything he needed, all he ever craved.
Ichigo realized that this was possibly the last time, the last taste. Something inside of him shattered so severely that the tinge of blood in the kiss overpowered everything. It left them both despondent as they parted.
It was almost time. He could feel it; the dark weight in the pit of his stomach, the emptiness spreading with the blood running in his veins. Desperately he held onto the last tidbits of his reiatsu to prolong the moment together even if just by a second.
Even if he knew it was futile.