Bleach ficlet - To What Is
Type: Fanfiction
Series: Bleach
Title: To What Is
Rating: PG-13ish . . . maybe
Pairing: Ichigo/Orihime
Disclaimer: Belongs to Kubo Tite.
Notes: For temps_mort on the picture challenge. Ficlet is based on chirachira's pic of Schmoopy Ichigo and Orihime. Really, the challenge was just an excuse. Sap and some more sap.
The afternoon light was pale and Orihime had wiggled to the other end of the bed, amid mussed sheets, trying to catch the most of it. Opposite from her, Ichigo watched through half-lidded eyes as she leaned back and the sun’s rays etched her curves in gold and shadow as smiling, she hummed a gentle tune under her breath, nodding in time to the tune within her head.
Ichigo was worn out and still sticky from their previous activity, but for a moment he was enticed by the idea of joining her and wrapping his arms around her, especially when the daylight hit the gleaming line of her neck where it was damp with sweat. In the end, he clasped his hands on his own bare stomach, enjoyed the warmth and softness of her legs -- her calf hooked over his own, wiggling the toes of her foot -- against his legs and found contentment in her quiet happiness.
Orihime was a strange comfort. He would not have had to do anything and he would not have even had to seen her in that way and she would have stayed by his side, taking joy from his simple presence. It might have been that he could have done nothing for her, only taken and not given in their relationship, and maybe that could have even been enough for her. But Ichigo was not like that and perhaps that was why she was in love with him. He had asked her once and she had laughed.
‘Because Ichigo is Ichigo,’ she had said, as if it should have been as plain as day.
So while her love remained something of a mystery, he knew she loved as much as she could love anyone, because Orihime was Orihime and while she could ramble on about the simplest of things, she always answered the important questions as simple and truly as she could.
She had asked him in a return one day, joking in her own way, and Ichigo had been at a loss for words. He could be passionate and loud. He could state his intentions or what he believed without a thought, but he was at a loss to tell her why. Orihime was gentle and beautiful and so many other things that Ichigo could not describe with speech, despite his talent at speaking his mind without thinking it through. So he did what he was second best at and acted without thought, embracing her and bringing his lips to hers in a crushing kiss to find her mouth sweet from the cake she had been eating.
Afterwards, she had flung out her arms and spun until she was dizzy, beaming all the while.
Their reasons for what they had did not matter, he thought, so long as they were happy together and here, with no words between them, lazing about and caught in a private bubble where only the two of them could exist, it was possible that they could be happy like this for a long, long time. Until a Hollow or someone came knocking at the door and they were forced back out into the hectic and public world, but even that was all right.
He roused himself from his half-daze to find her staring at him, a smile tugging at her lips. Ichigo grumbled and rolled his shoulders. “What are you looking at?”
“You have a funny look on your face,” she said and then brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle.
He bumped her leg with his, “Hey, are you trying to start something?”
“Uh-hm,” she answered in a completely Orihime way and squirmed her way between his legs, facing him with bright eyes. She raised her leg and poked him in the chest with her big toe, right above his clasped hands.
“Was that supposed to be an answer or something?”
Somehow the toe moved from his chest to gently pressed against his lips, the cool, callused digit’s placement prevented him from speaking. “Ichigo,” Orihime said, “you know you’re supposed to finish it.” Her toe wiggled against his lips.
Then she busted into giggles and a blush covered her cheeks as she found something too funny about the whole thing.
Ichigo growled deep in his throat and caught the leg that belonged to the offending toe in his hands, nipping the tip of said toe lightly before moving his mouth away leaning forward ever so slowly. “This is mine now.”
Her giggling bloomed into full laughter and she fell backwards, her long hair spreading out behind her in a wonderful mess. “Ah! Ichigo’s going to eat me! Someone help!”
He crawled up her body, caressed her breast with a gentle sweep of his hand and silenced her laughter with a kiss, not quite tasting anything discernable, but feeling her warmth and her eager response.
Words were too simple to explain it all, but somehow actions always sufficed for him.
Series: Bleach
Title: To What Is
Rating: PG-13ish . . . maybe
Pairing: Ichigo/Orihime
Disclaimer: Belongs to Kubo Tite.
Notes: For temps_mort on the picture challenge. Ficlet is based on chirachira's pic of Schmoopy Ichigo and Orihime. Really, the challenge was just an excuse. Sap and some more sap.
The afternoon light was pale and Orihime had wiggled to the other end of the bed, amid mussed sheets, trying to catch the most of it. Opposite from her, Ichigo watched through half-lidded eyes as she leaned back and the sun’s rays etched her curves in gold and shadow as smiling, she hummed a gentle tune under her breath, nodding in time to the tune within her head.
Ichigo was worn out and still sticky from their previous activity, but for a moment he was enticed by the idea of joining her and wrapping his arms around her, especially when the daylight hit the gleaming line of her neck where it was damp with sweat. In the end, he clasped his hands on his own bare stomach, enjoyed the warmth and softness of her legs -- her calf hooked over his own, wiggling the toes of her foot -- against his legs and found contentment in her quiet happiness.
Orihime was a strange comfort. He would not have had to do anything and he would not have even had to seen her in that way and she would have stayed by his side, taking joy from his simple presence. It might have been that he could have done nothing for her, only taken and not given in their relationship, and maybe that could have even been enough for her. But Ichigo was not like that and perhaps that was why she was in love with him. He had asked her once and she had laughed.
‘Because Ichigo is Ichigo,’ she had said, as if it should have been as plain as day.
So while her love remained something of a mystery, he knew she loved as much as she could love anyone, because Orihime was Orihime and while she could ramble on about the simplest of things, she always answered the important questions as simple and truly as she could.
She had asked him in a return one day, joking in her own way, and Ichigo had been at a loss for words. He could be passionate and loud. He could state his intentions or what he believed without a thought, but he was at a loss to tell her why. Orihime was gentle and beautiful and so many other things that Ichigo could not describe with speech, despite his talent at speaking his mind without thinking it through. So he did what he was second best at and acted without thought, embracing her and bringing his lips to hers in a crushing kiss to find her mouth sweet from the cake she had been eating.
Afterwards, she had flung out her arms and spun until she was dizzy, beaming all the while.
Their reasons for what they had did not matter, he thought, so long as they were happy together and here, with no words between them, lazing about and caught in a private bubble where only the two of them could exist, it was possible that they could be happy like this for a long, long time. Until a Hollow or someone came knocking at the door and they were forced back out into the hectic and public world, but even that was all right.
He roused himself from his half-daze to find her staring at him, a smile tugging at her lips. Ichigo grumbled and rolled his shoulders. “What are you looking at?”
“You have a funny look on your face,” she said and then brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle.
He bumped her leg with his, “Hey, are you trying to start something?”
“Uh-hm,” she answered in a completely Orihime way and squirmed her way between his legs, facing him with bright eyes. She raised her leg and poked him in the chest with her big toe, right above his clasped hands.
“Was that supposed to be an answer or something?”
Somehow the toe moved from his chest to gently pressed against his lips, the cool, callused digit’s placement prevented him from speaking. “Ichigo,” Orihime said, “you know you’re supposed to finish it.” Her toe wiggled against his lips.
Then she busted into giggles and a blush covered her cheeks as she found something too funny about the whole thing.
Ichigo growled deep in his throat and caught the leg that belonged to the offending toe in his hands, nipping the tip of said toe lightly before moving his mouth away leaning forward ever so slowly. “This is mine now.”
Her giggling bloomed into full laughter and she fell backwards, her long hair spreading out behind her in a wonderful mess. “Ah! Ichigo’s going to eat me! Someone help!”
He crawled up her body, caressed her breast with a gentle sweep of his hand and silenced her laughter with a kiss, not quite tasting anything discernable, but feeling her warmth and her eager response.
Words were too simple to explain it all, but somehow actions always sufficed for him.