FIC: "Life Lessons -- Chapter 3: In Which Ichigo Attempts to Rationalize (3/?)
Title: Life Lessons -- Chapter 3: In Which Ichigo Attempts to Rationalize
Author: nehalenia
Pairing: Ichigo/Ishida (eventually).
Rating: PG in this chap (NC17 overall)
Warnings: none in this chapter (honest, there's more NC17 stuff coming. Really.)
Disclaimer: Bleach and all its characters belong to Kubo Tite. This is posted for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made or sought.
Summary: Ichigo and Ishida are college roommates. They study, they fight Hollows, they have sex; but not with each other. Because Ishida likes guys, and Ichigo likes girls. Right?
Notes: I apologize for both the lateness and brevity of this chapter, but RL had to take precedence this week. Yes, I know I promised you hotness in this chapter, but in the interest of maintaining something vaguely resembling a "weekly" posting schedule, this is what you get. (It will get hotter. I promise.) Again, not beta-read, so if you see any errors, let me know!
X-posted to all appropriate places, so sorry for the spamming.
Chapter 1 is here: http://community.livejournal.com/ishi_ichi/300274.html
Chapter 2 is here: http://community.livejournal.com/ishi_ichi/300856.html#cutid1
All he had to do, Ichigo reasoned, was to knock on Ishida’s door and tell him. Tell him Chad’s band was in town, where they were playing and what time. That was it. That was all he’d promised, and all that could be expected from him. It wasn’t that big a deal. It wouldn’t take more than two minutes of his life.
Except that he’d already been standing in the hallway outside Ishida’s bedroom for two minutes as it was, and he still hadn’t done it.
The problem wasn’t so much the telling as it was the knocking. Because for the second time in as many days, Ichigo found himself staring at Ishida’s door and wondering what was going on behind it; which made him think about what had going on behind it last night, which made him feel even more uncomfortable, which made him reluctant to knock on the door. It was a vicious cycle, and he knew the only way to end it was to grit his teeth and just do it.
Ichigo took a breath, loosened the fist he had clenched and rapped on Ishida’s door. “Hey, you in there?”
“Hold on,” came Ishida’s muffled voice. A moment later he pulled the door open, and Ichigo felt a strange little lurch in the pit of his stomach because Ishida was obviously in the process of getting dressed; meaning that he was half-naked. Well, maybe half-naked was unfair considering Ishida was wearing both a shirt and pants, but Ichigo thought they were doing a pretty piss-poor job of actually covering anything.
The white, flare-leg jeans Ishida had on were slung so low that his hip bones were in full view, and the top of the cleft between his thigh and groin was just visible above the waistband. His shirt - if you could call it that - was a weird sleeveless, high-collared affair; a geometric mix of dark and lighter blues with a contrasting white zipper down the front. A zipper which was completely undone so that every bit of Ishida’s lean torso was displayed, from the five-pointed scar on his chest, to the navel that was barely an indentation in his toned stomach, to the faint trail of fine hair that disappeared into those might-fall-off-at-any-moment jeans.
“Did you need something, Kurosaki?” Ishida asked, stepping back from the door so Ichigo could come in. He was holding a belt in one hand and started threading it through the loops on his pants while waiting for Ichigo to answer.
“Uhm,” Ichigo drawled, momentarily unable to either pull his eyes away from the sight of Ishida’s long fingers deftly buckling his belt or remember what he had wanted to say. “Chad,” he finally managed to blurt out.
“Chad?” Ishida repeated, raising an encouraging eyebrow. “What about Chad?”
“Ahhhh,” Ichigo stalled, trying to pull his thoughts into some kind of order. “Chad-he’s in town. His band is playing the Blood Rose tonight. He’s got free tickets for us if you want to go but,” he paused to swallow, “it sort of looks like-you’ve already got plans?”
“I do, actually,” Ishida sighed. “I wish I’d known sooner. I’d definitely have gone, but…” He was fiddling with the collar of his shirt now, and Ichigo had another moment of confusion when Ishida started to close his shirt by pulling the zipper down from the top.
“Yeah, sorry about the late notice,” Ichigo said, “but he just sent me a text this afternoon. Pretty last minute, I guess, and… wait a second.” He narrowed his eyes at Ishida’s shirt. “Is that zipper in upside down?”
“I’m shocked you’d notice something like that, Kurosaki,” Ishida said, one corner of his mouth twitching in what would have been a grin on anyone else’s face.
“Okay, but… why?” Ichigo asked, nonplussed. Normally Ishida would have snorted and acted like he’d just asked an incredibly stupid question, but this time he almost looked pleased.
“Because I don’t want to show this,” he said, tapping the center of his chest where his scar resided, “but I do want to show this.” He stopped the zipper just above his navel and left the rest of his shirt open. The effect of the almost prim high collar with Ishida’s exposed stomach was-well, Ichigo wasn’t sure what it was, but he was starting to feel damned uncomfortable once again.
“Uh, right,” he said, blinking and forcibly tearing his eyes away from Ishida’s belly. “So, you’re definitely not going tonight?”
“I don’t see how,” Ishida said, looking disappointed. “It’s really too late to change plans for anything but a true emergency.”
“I guess a friend you haven’t seen in four months doesn’t qualify, huh?” Ichigo hadn’t meant for those words to sound mean - hell, he didn’t know why he even said it in the first place - but that’s how it came out, and he could see Ishida’s expression shutter immediately.
“As surprising as you might find it, Kurosaki,” he glared, “canceling a Saturday night date on Saturday night is considered extremely rude. Now if you’ll excuse me….”
“Hey, I didn’t mean it to sound that way, okay?” Ichigo soothed. “I get it, all right? I’ll tell Chad you’ll catch him next time around.”
“It’s not like I don’t want to see him, you know.” Ishida still looked disgruntled.
“Yeah, I know,” Ichigo said, trying to sound apologetic. “Late notice, bad timing. Chad’ll understand.” Ishida was standing there with his arms at his side, frowning at the floor and looking unhappy. Feeling uncomfortable, Ichigo looked away only to have his eyes light on Ishida’s bed. It was neatly made, the sheets and bedspread pulled smooth and tight, but Ichigo’s brain automatically flashed to the way it had looked last night, rumpled and messy, with Ishida’s fingers clutching at the covers.
“Uhh, look,” he said, turning away and rubbing his head as if that could banish the memory. “I’ll get out of your hair so you can finish… doing whatever you’re doing, I guess.”
“It’s called ‘getting ready to go out’, Kurosaki,” Ishida rolled his eyes. “To some people, that means more than brushing your teeth and putting on deodorant. And yes, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“All right, I’m going,” Ichigo said as he turned and slouched toward the door. He thought about telling Ishida to have a good time on his date, just to show he really didn’t mind Ishida ditching an old friend for the evening, but his mouth seemed reluctant to form the words. He started to wonder just who Ishida was going out with, anyway? ‘Buff’ from the night before? Or some other guy? He stopped and glanced back to see Ishida frowning into his full-length mirror and messing with his hair, scraping it back, then letting it fall back around his face. Whoever he was going out with, Ishida seemed to be putting a lot of effort into ‘getting ready’. But maybe he always did this before going out? Hell, Ichigo didn’t know what went on in ‘Gay World’; maybe this was what all gay guys did and it wasn’t anything to worry about.
Not that Ichigo was worried, of course. It didn’t matter to him what guy Ishida went out with, or how many of them there were. For all Ichigo cared, Ishida could date a different one every weekend and be as casual or as serious about it as he liked. It sure wasn’t any of his business.
Then again, if it didn’t matter, why did Ichigo’s stomach feel like it was snagged on something when he thought about Ishida having a ‘serious relationship’? A steady fuck would be better than Ishida bending over for a bunch of different guys, right? It might be fun - for Ishida, that is - but it didn’t sound very safe. Frankly, both scenarios bothered Ichigo, and the idea that he wasn’t sure why bothered him even more.
It was the whole roommate thing, wasn’t it? Yeah, that had to be it. What if something bad happened to Ishida because he was out tramping around with a whole stable of Buffs? Casual sex was risky, and if something went down, Ichigo would probably end up getting involved. If Ishida got hurt or sick, he might even have to take care of the moron, and that would be troublesome. And if Ishida was serious about ‘Buff’ or anyone else, wouldn’t he eventually want to live with the guy? That would leave Ichigo having to find a new roommate, which would suck. For as much as he and Ishida clashed - usually over stupid shit like Ichigo loading the dishwasher ‘wrong’ or drinking all but one swallow in a carton of juice - at least they were used to each other. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty damn sure that no one else would have cleaned up the come-splattered bathroom mirror; even if the dork had thought it was just toothpaste.
“Kurosaki, is there some reason you’re standing there blocking my doorway? Did all your synapses stop firing at once? Do you need a push?”
Ichigo looked up, momentarily surprised that he was still standing on Ishida’s threshold. Ishida had his hands on his hips and his head tilted to one side, which made Ichigo feel even more out of kilter.
“Eh, no, sorry. Just… lost my train of thought,” Ichigo stammered. “So, uhm… see you later, I guess.”
“Yes,” Ishida agreed, moving forward to herd Ichigo out the door. “Much later. Now goodbye, Kurosaki.”
“Uh, yeah,” was Ichigo’s weak response as the door clicked shut in his face. He stood there a moment longer, listening to Ishida moving around on the other side, then let out a breath and headed back down the hall to his room.
So he wouldn't have to deal with Ishida with at the club tonight, after all. He should have felt pleased. He at least should have felt relieved. Ichigo wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t.
Author: nehalenia
Pairing: Ichigo/Ishida (eventually).
Rating: PG in this chap (NC17 overall)
Warnings: none in this chapter (honest, there's more NC17 stuff coming. Really.)
Disclaimer: Bleach and all its characters belong to Kubo Tite. This is posted for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made or sought.
Summary: Ichigo and Ishida are college roommates. They study, they fight Hollows, they have sex; but not with each other. Because Ishida likes guys, and Ichigo likes girls. Right?
Notes: I apologize for both the lateness and brevity of this chapter, but RL had to take precedence this week. Yes, I know I promised you hotness in this chapter, but in the interest of maintaining something vaguely resembling a "weekly" posting schedule, this is what you get. (It will get hotter. I promise.) Again, not beta-read, so if you see any errors, let me know!
X-posted to all appropriate places, so sorry for the spamming.
Chapter 1 is here: http://community.livejournal.com/ishi_ichi/300274.html
Chapter 2 is here: http://community.livejournal.com/ishi_ichi/300856.html#cutid1
All he had to do, Ichigo reasoned, was to knock on Ishida’s door and tell him. Tell him Chad’s band was in town, where they were playing and what time. That was it. That was all he’d promised, and all that could be expected from him. It wasn’t that big a deal. It wouldn’t take more than two minutes of his life.
Except that he’d already been standing in the hallway outside Ishida’s bedroom for two minutes as it was, and he still hadn’t done it.
The problem wasn’t so much the telling as it was the knocking. Because for the second time in as many days, Ichigo found himself staring at Ishida’s door and wondering what was going on behind it; which made him think about what had going on behind it last night, which made him feel even more uncomfortable, which made him reluctant to knock on the door. It was a vicious cycle, and he knew the only way to end it was to grit his teeth and just do it.
Ichigo took a breath, loosened the fist he had clenched and rapped on Ishida’s door. “Hey, you in there?”
“Hold on,” came Ishida’s muffled voice. A moment later he pulled the door open, and Ichigo felt a strange little lurch in the pit of his stomach because Ishida was obviously in the process of getting dressed; meaning that he was half-naked. Well, maybe half-naked was unfair considering Ishida was wearing both a shirt and pants, but Ichigo thought they were doing a pretty piss-poor job of actually covering anything.
The white, flare-leg jeans Ishida had on were slung so low that his hip bones were in full view, and the top of the cleft between his thigh and groin was just visible above the waistband. His shirt - if you could call it that - was a weird sleeveless, high-collared affair; a geometric mix of dark and lighter blues with a contrasting white zipper down the front. A zipper which was completely undone so that every bit of Ishida’s lean torso was displayed, from the five-pointed scar on his chest, to the navel that was barely an indentation in his toned stomach, to the faint trail of fine hair that disappeared into those might-fall-off-at-any-moment jeans.
“Did you need something, Kurosaki?” Ishida asked, stepping back from the door so Ichigo could come in. He was holding a belt in one hand and started threading it through the loops on his pants while waiting for Ichigo to answer.
“Uhm,” Ichigo drawled, momentarily unable to either pull his eyes away from the sight of Ishida’s long fingers deftly buckling his belt or remember what he had wanted to say. “Chad,” he finally managed to blurt out.
“Chad?” Ishida repeated, raising an encouraging eyebrow. “What about Chad?”
“Ahhhh,” Ichigo stalled, trying to pull his thoughts into some kind of order. “Chad-he’s in town. His band is playing the Blood Rose tonight. He’s got free tickets for us if you want to go but,” he paused to swallow, “it sort of looks like-you’ve already got plans?”
“I do, actually,” Ishida sighed. “I wish I’d known sooner. I’d definitely have gone, but…” He was fiddling with the collar of his shirt now, and Ichigo had another moment of confusion when Ishida started to close his shirt by pulling the zipper down from the top.
“Yeah, sorry about the late notice,” Ichigo said, “but he just sent me a text this afternoon. Pretty last minute, I guess, and… wait a second.” He narrowed his eyes at Ishida’s shirt. “Is that zipper in upside down?”
“I’m shocked you’d notice something like that, Kurosaki,” Ishida said, one corner of his mouth twitching in what would have been a grin on anyone else’s face.
“Okay, but… why?” Ichigo asked, nonplussed. Normally Ishida would have snorted and acted like he’d just asked an incredibly stupid question, but this time he almost looked pleased.
“Because I don’t want to show this,” he said, tapping the center of his chest where his scar resided, “but I do want to show this.” He stopped the zipper just above his navel and left the rest of his shirt open. The effect of the almost prim high collar with Ishida’s exposed stomach was-well, Ichigo wasn’t sure what it was, but he was starting to feel damned uncomfortable once again.
“Uh, right,” he said, blinking and forcibly tearing his eyes away from Ishida’s belly. “So, you’re definitely not going tonight?”
“I don’t see how,” Ishida said, looking disappointed. “It’s really too late to change plans for anything but a true emergency.”
“I guess a friend you haven’t seen in four months doesn’t qualify, huh?” Ichigo hadn’t meant for those words to sound mean - hell, he didn’t know why he even said it in the first place - but that’s how it came out, and he could see Ishida’s expression shutter immediately.
“As surprising as you might find it, Kurosaki,” he glared, “canceling a Saturday night date on Saturday night is considered extremely rude. Now if you’ll excuse me….”
“Hey, I didn’t mean it to sound that way, okay?” Ichigo soothed. “I get it, all right? I’ll tell Chad you’ll catch him next time around.”
“It’s not like I don’t want to see him, you know.” Ishida still looked disgruntled.
“Yeah, I know,” Ichigo said, trying to sound apologetic. “Late notice, bad timing. Chad’ll understand.” Ishida was standing there with his arms at his side, frowning at the floor and looking unhappy. Feeling uncomfortable, Ichigo looked away only to have his eyes light on Ishida’s bed. It was neatly made, the sheets and bedspread pulled smooth and tight, but Ichigo’s brain automatically flashed to the way it had looked last night, rumpled and messy, with Ishida’s fingers clutching at the covers.
“Uhh, look,” he said, turning away and rubbing his head as if that could banish the memory. “I’ll get out of your hair so you can finish… doing whatever you’re doing, I guess.”
“It’s called ‘getting ready to go out’, Kurosaki,” Ishida rolled his eyes. “To some people, that means more than brushing your teeth and putting on deodorant. And yes, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“All right, I’m going,” Ichigo said as he turned and slouched toward the door. He thought about telling Ishida to have a good time on his date, just to show he really didn’t mind Ishida ditching an old friend for the evening, but his mouth seemed reluctant to form the words. He started to wonder just who Ishida was going out with, anyway? ‘Buff’ from the night before? Or some other guy? He stopped and glanced back to see Ishida frowning into his full-length mirror and messing with his hair, scraping it back, then letting it fall back around his face. Whoever he was going out with, Ishida seemed to be putting a lot of effort into ‘getting ready’. But maybe he always did this before going out? Hell, Ichigo didn’t know what went on in ‘Gay World’; maybe this was what all gay guys did and it wasn’t anything to worry about.
Not that Ichigo was worried, of course. It didn’t matter to him what guy Ishida went out with, or how many of them there were. For all Ichigo cared, Ishida could date a different one every weekend and be as casual or as serious about it as he liked. It sure wasn’t any of his business.
Then again, if it didn’t matter, why did Ichigo’s stomach feel like it was snagged on something when he thought about Ishida having a ‘serious relationship’? A steady fuck would be better than Ishida bending over for a bunch of different guys, right? It might be fun - for Ishida, that is - but it didn’t sound very safe. Frankly, both scenarios bothered Ichigo, and the idea that he wasn’t sure why bothered him even more.
It was the whole roommate thing, wasn’t it? Yeah, that had to be it. What if something bad happened to Ishida because he was out tramping around with a whole stable of Buffs? Casual sex was risky, and if something went down, Ichigo would probably end up getting involved. If Ishida got hurt or sick, he might even have to take care of the moron, and that would be troublesome. And if Ishida was serious about ‘Buff’ or anyone else, wouldn’t he eventually want to live with the guy? That would leave Ichigo having to find a new roommate, which would suck. For as much as he and Ishida clashed - usually over stupid shit like Ichigo loading the dishwasher ‘wrong’ or drinking all but one swallow in a carton of juice - at least they were used to each other. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty damn sure that no one else would have cleaned up the come-splattered bathroom mirror; even if the dork had thought it was just toothpaste.
“Kurosaki, is there some reason you’re standing there blocking my doorway? Did all your synapses stop firing at once? Do you need a push?”
Ichigo looked up, momentarily surprised that he was still standing on Ishida’s threshold. Ishida had his hands on his hips and his head tilted to one side, which made Ichigo feel even more out of kilter.
“Eh, no, sorry. Just… lost my train of thought,” Ichigo stammered. “So, uhm… see you later, I guess.”
“Yes,” Ishida agreed, moving forward to herd Ichigo out the door. “Much later. Now goodbye, Kurosaki.”
“Uh, yeah,” was Ichigo’s weak response as the door clicked shut in his face. He stood there a moment longer, listening to Ishida moving around on the other side, then let out a breath and headed back down the hall to his room.
So he wouldn't have to deal with Ishida with at the club tonight, after all. He should have felt pleased. He at least should have felt relieved. Ichigo wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t.