"Socializing"
Title: Socializing
Author: kay_willow
Rating: T (cursing, innuendo)
Characters: Ichigo, Renji, Ikkaku, Iba
Summary: After the Soul Society arc, there's plenty of downtime for some shinigami to sit, drink, argue, and talk about women.
(Fun, dorky thing written to the "too much" prompt for fanfic100 and the "headache" prompt for 30_romances.)
Ichigo sat down near Renji and Ikkaku and was handed a cup of something by an extremely big shinigami with dark sunglasses.
"You look like a gangster," Ichigo told him flatly. The gangster responded by introducing himself, but Ichigo didn't bother listening, since he'd just forget it in a few minutes anyway. He turned to Renji and asked, "What happened to quality time with Byakuya?"
Renji grunted. "Thinks I talk too much," he muttered. "Told me to get out and stay out while he was recuperating."
"See?!" Ikkaku demanded, jabbing a finger at the redhead but glaring holes at Ichigo. "It can too mean recovery from injury!!"
God, he was a persistent bastard, and Ichigo was totally tired of this conversation. "I can't believe you're still thinking about that."
The gangster chimed in, "I agree. Have some more sake, Ikkaku, and your grievances will melt away." He sounded almost zen.
Ikkaku told him to screw off, but finished his cup anyway. Renji poured him another. Attempting to be discreet, Ichigo sipped at his own cup, which also turned out to be sake.
Tastes like warm piss. He really didn't get why everyone was so keen on alcoholism; Keigo talked about getting drunk like it was the pinnacle of masculinity, outside of dating hot girls. Ichigo held onto the small cup and let the others drink theirs.
Then Ikkaku said with a stretch, "So, Renji. Now that Kuchiki is back and you're a lieutenant, you gonna tell her?"
Renji cast a sidelong, self-conscious glance at Ichigo, and then looked away when he saw Ichigo looking at him. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered.
"Oh come on," Ichigo said flatly. "You don't really think you're fooling anyone, do you?"
"How long has this ryoka known you, Abarai? A week?" The gangster thought this was really funny, and slammed his fist into the little table. "I think the only person who doesn't know is Kuchiki."
"And not Kuchiki Byakuya," Ikkaku seconded. "He knows."
Renji's features grew darker and darker with each passing moment, and he was looking positively mulish by the time he downed his sake in one hard swallow and set the glass down with a clatter to pour himself another. "Shut up," he said. "It's not like it's that easy. She only just got back--"
Ikkaku snorted. "He's a coward."
"Hey, back off! If your girlfriend wasn't a guy you'd know how hard it is to tell a woman--"
"You wanna say that again?!"
"Fuck, they're loud," Ichigo muttered, thinking maybe of finding someone quiet to hang out with, like-- Ishida. But the moment that thought crossed his mind he changed it. Nah. Better to hang out with these loud assholes than that self-righteous bastard.
The gangster grabbed Ikkaku by the back of his kosode and yanked him back into his seat. "I well know the pain of woman troubles," he agreed. "But it's worth it, isn't it, gentlemen?"
"What would you know about woman troubles?" Renji said hotly. "You've been trying to get between Matsumoto's sheets for the last twenty years."
"Unsuccessfully," Ikkaku added, taking another drink.
After a brief moment's bristling, the gangster said gruffly, "Matsumoto is more woman than any of you slackers could handle. The troubles that come with such a woman are innumerable, but worth it in the--"
"Isn't she a little out of his league?" Ichigo asked Renji. He recognized that name: Matsumoto was that Toushirou kid's lieutenant -- the gorgeous, incredibly busty woman who had managed to make all his friends blush to the roots of their hair within ten minutes of being introduced to them, including Inoue. And she was supposed to fall for this guy?
"He wants a trophy wife," Renji explained.
Ikkaku cackled, "As feminine as he is manly!"
Then there was more shouting as the gangster defended his intentions and her interest in him, and everyone else attempted to convince him that she'd feign interest in anyone willing to pay her bar tab. They were all extremely loud and pretty obviously drunk themselves. Ichigo leaned back on his hands, the sake cup set off to one side, and wondered if Hanatarou would know where they kept the aspirin around this place.
"Now you, you're lucky, Kurosaki," said the gangster.
"Eh?" Ichigo looked up at the other men again. They'd managed to calm themselves down without anyone getting hurt.
"A woman like Inoue will never give you any troubles. She'll make a perfect wife someday."
Ikkaku leered, wobbling, "Yeah, not like any husband of Matsumoto's, who'll have to be two captains just to fund her shopping trips."
The gangster snarled at him silently, little moustache curling up at the corner of his lips, but Ichigo shrugged and told them, "It's not like that. Inoue's just a friend."
The three men glanced at him. "Just a friend?" Ikkaku echoed. "What, are you into guys?"
He didn't care about the question, but the fact that it was coming from Ikkaku was just insulting. Ichigo scowled at him. "If you mean the way you are, no. But I'm not a creep either."
Ichigo wasn't blind; he knew Inoue was pretty and sweet, but he also knew she got enough leering from Keigo, and Chizuru, and Kon. She definitely didn't need any more friends like those. Anyway, Tatsuki would fucking kill him.
Ikkaku didn't blink, and said, "Hey, Renji. You hear that? Ichigo's cute little friend is available. Less trouble than Kuchiki, no awkward past or bastard brothers--"
"Cut it out, hey! Leave Inoue alone."
But Renji only said, "Nah. I'll manage... something." He wasn't smiling, looking off into the distance like there might be answers on the horizon, sober somehow despite the amount of alcohol he'd been drinking.
Wow, he's really got it bad, Ichigo realized. It was strange to think that anyone could put Rukia up on a pedestal when his most vivid memories of her were of the way she talked like a man from the 19th century and kicked him in the head for talking back to her -- she wasn't exactly the ideal woman, and hardly a woman at all. Matsumoto Rangiku he could understand, and even Inoue, but Rukia?
Still, the look on Renji's face made it hard to doubt. Even Ichigo wasn't that dumb, and neither were the other men; despite being loud, and over-aggressive, and drunk, they all shared in a brief, respectful silence.
"Huh. Good luck with that," Ikkaku said, grudging.
The gangster raised his sake. "To women," he said, whoever he was.
Ichigo picked up his cup and lifted it in a wordless toast, and when he drank, he was thinking, You poor bastard. She'll run you ragged. I hope it's worth it.
But even Ichigo had a romantic side, much though he'd swear otherwise to anyone who tried to get him to admit it. He was pretty sure -- or at least, he dreamed -- that love was worth it.
Author: kay_willow
Rating: T (cursing, innuendo)
Characters: Ichigo, Renji, Ikkaku, Iba
Summary: After the Soul Society arc, there's plenty of downtime for some shinigami to sit, drink, argue, and talk about women.
(Fun, dorky thing written to the "too much" prompt for fanfic100 and the "headache" prompt for 30_romances.)
Ichigo sat down near Renji and Ikkaku and was handed a cup of something by an extremely big shinigami with dark sunglasses.
"You look like a gangster," Ichigo told him flatly. The gangster responded by introducing himself, but Ichigo didn't bother listening, since he'd just forget it in a few minutes anyway. He turned to Renji and asked, "What happened to quality time with Byakuya?"
Renji grunted. "Thinks I talk too much," he muttered. "Told me to get out and stay out while he was recuperating."
"See?!" Ikkaku demanded, jabbing a finger at the redhead but glaring holes at Ichigo. "It can too mean recovery from injury!!"
God, he was a persistent bastard, and Ichigo was totally tired of this conversation. "I can't believe you're still thinking about that."
The gangster chimed in, "I agree. Have some more sake, Ikkaku, and your grievances will melt away." He sounded almost zen.
Ikkaku told him to screw off, but finished his cup anyway. Renji poured him another. Attempting to be discreet, Ichigo sipped at his own cup, which also turned out to be sake.
Tastes like warm piss. He really didn't get why everyone was so keen on alcoholism; Keigo talked about getting drunk like it was the pinnacle of masculinity, outside of dating hot girls. Ichigo held onto the small cup and let the others drink theirs.
Then Ikkaku said with a stretch, "So, Renji. Now that Kuchiki is back and you're a lieutenant, you gonna tell her?"
Renji cast a sidelong, self-conscious glance at Ichigo, and then looked away when he saw Ichigo looking at him. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered.
"Oh come on," Ichigo said flatly. "You don't really think you're fooling anyone, do you?"
"How long has this ryoka known you, Abarai? A week?" The gangster thought this was really funny, and slammed his fist into the little table. "I think the only person who doesn't know is Kuchiki."
"And not Kuchiki Byakuya," Ikkaku seconded. "He knows."
Renji's features grew darker and darker with each passing moment, and he was looking positively mulish by the time he downed his sake in one hard swallow and set the glass down with a clatter to pour himself another. "Shut up," he said. "It's not like it's that easy. She only just got back--"
Ikkaku snorted. "He's a coward."
"Hey, back off! If your girlfriend wasn't a guy you'd know how hard it is to tell a woman--"
"You wanna say that again?!"
"Fuck, they're loud," Ichigo muttered, thinking maybe of finding someone quiet to hang out with, like-- Ishida. But the moment that thought crossed his mind he changed it. Nah. Better to hang out with these loud assholes than that self-righteous bastard.
The gangster grabbed Ikkaku by the back of his kosode and yanked him back into his seat. "I well know the pain of woman troubles," he agreed. "But it's worth it, isn't it, gentlemen?"
"What would you know about woman troubles?" Renji said hotly. "You've been trying to get between Matsumoto's sheets for the last twenty years."
"Unsuccessfully," Ikkaku added, taking another drink.
After a brief moment's bristling, the gangster said gruffly, "Matsumoto is more woman than any of you slackers could handle. The troubles that come with such a woman are innumerable, but worth it in the--"
"Isn't she a little out of his league?" Ichigo asked Renji. He recognized that name: Matsumoto was that Toushirou kid's lieutenant -- the gorgeous, incredibly busty woman who had managed to make all his friends blush to the roots of their hair within ten minutes of being introduced to them, including Inoue. And she was supposed to fall for this guy?
"He wants a trophy wife," Renji explained.
Ikkaku cackled, "As feminine as he is manly!"
Then there was more shouting as the gangster defended his intentions and her interest in him, and everyone else attempted to convince him that she'd feign interest in anyone willing to pay her bar tab. They were all extremely loud and pretty obviously drunk themselves. Ichigo leaned back on his hands, the sake cup set off to one side, and wondered if Hanatarou would know where they kept the aspirin around this place.
"Now you, you're lucky, Kurosaki," said the gangster.
"Eh?" Ichigo looked up at the other men again. They'd managed to calm themselves down without anyone getting hurt.
"A woman like Inoue will never give you any troubles. She'll make a perfect wife someday."
Ikkaku leered, wobbling, "Yeah, not like any husband of Matsumoto's, who'll have to be two captains just to fund her shopping trips."
The gangster snarled at him silently, little moustache curling up at the corner of his lips, but Ichigo shrugged and told them, "It's not like that. Inoue's just a friend."
The three men glanced at him. "Just a friend?" Ikkaku echoed. "What, are you into guys?"
He didn't care about the question, but the fact that it was coming from Ikkaku was just insulting. Ichigo scowled at him. "If you mean the way you are, no. But I'm not a creep either."
Ichigo wasn't blind; he knew Inoue was pretty and sweet, but he also knew she got enough leering from Keigo, and Chizuru, and Kon. She definitely didn't need any more friends like those. Anyway, Tatsuki would fucking kill him.
Ikkaku didn't blink, and said, "Hey, Renji. You hear that? Ichigo's cute little friend is available. Less trouble than Kuchiki, no awkward past or bastard brothers--"
"Cut it out, hey! Leave Inoue alone."
But Renji only said, "Nah. I'll manage... something." He wasn't smiling, looking off into the distance like there might be answers on the horizon, sober somehow despite the amount of alcohol he'd been drinking.
Wow, he's really got it bad, Ichigo realized. It was strange to think that anyone could put Rukia up on a pedestal when his most vivid memories of her were of the way she talked like a man from the 19th century and kicked him in the head for talking back to her -- she wasn't exactly the ideal woman, and hardly a woman at all. Matsumoto Rangiku he could understand, and even Inoue, but Rukia?
Still, the look on Renji's face made it hard to doubt. Even Ichigo wasn't that dumb, and neither were the other men; despite being loud, and over-aggressive, and drunk, they all shared in a brief, respectful silence.
"Huh. Good luck with that," Ikkaku said, grudging.
The gangster raised his sake. "To women," he said, whoever he was.
Ichigo picked up his cup and lifted it in a wordless toast, and when he drank, he was thinking, You poor bastard. She'll run you ragged. I hope it's worth it.
But even Ichigo had a romantic side, much though he'd swear otherwise to anyone who tried to get him to admit it. He was pretty sure -- or at least, he dreamed -- that love was worth it.