Bleach Fic: What Socrates Said (Ichigo X Rukia)
This is the first non-FFXII fanfic I'll be posting since December of last year, my god. And really, this is just a bit of short, sweet, sexy pillow talk between Ichigo and Rukia which takes place a few years after the current time-line of series, assuming the two of them survive recent events. I needed a pick-me-up after the depressing events of the last manga chapter (Kubo Tite, you magnificent bastard!) and hoped that this would cheer everyone else up as it cheered me. ♥ And don't worry, this has nothing to do with the last ridiculously depressing fic I did for this fandom. The sadness of that ought not contaminate the silliness of this other one.
And as always, comments, criticism and corrections are much appreciated! With luck, someone will be able to spur my long-dormant Bleach bunny...
Title: What Socrates Said
Fandom: Bleach
Pairings: Ichigo X Rukia, Future-fic
Rating: PG-13
Summary: With a woman like Rukia, you learn to deflect the dangerous quite quickly.
Her voice came out of the darkness, and when it came, it was at first like siren song.
"… Ichigo."
"Hmm."
"Ichigo?"
"Hmmm."
"Ichigoooo…"
"Hmmmmm..."
"Ichigo!"
And what had become like a siren song immediately crystallized into Rukia’s familiar ‘I know you’re ignoring me and I know I don’t like it’ wail. Groaning a little, Ichigo pulled his pleasantly heavy head up from his pillow and towards the sprawled body of his bed-mate, squinting at her through the pale light that penetrated the blinds of their room.
"You're not going to let me enjoy the afterglow at all, are you,?"
"When I have a question on my mind? Of course not!"
He paused just then. Questions from Rukia inevitably led to either long, rambling debates about the meaning of life and existence that usually left bruises on his backside or even longer stretches of blessed, passionate silence on her part. Depending on just how long she rambled or how passionate she felt, either could be dangerous. However, since they were already in bed, his ability to shut her up before she felt the need to kick him where it would really hurt was considerably raised, and his chances of heading her off before something awful was said was even higher.
In the end, knowing that little could hold back the force that was Hurricane Rukia when she got started, Ichigo sighed and gave in. "I suppose I can't stop you if that‘s the case. Go on then, Rukia."
"All right then. Just a moment please." There was a pregnant pause as she pulled away from him to turn the lamp light on. It had been dark when they had made love, he inevitably giving in to her odd craving for softness and visual silence, as he pretty much gave in to anything she asked for when they found themselves in bed. Sighing at the memories, Ichigo watched her silhouette move gracefully with a rather unusual sense of contentment, feeling as though even a usual explosion of Shinigami crazy couldn’t dent his calm now.
As always, saying such around Rukia pretty much amounted to asking fate to kick his ass afterwards. And in retrospect, he really should have paid more attention by the mischievous smile already creeping across her face.
But he had been all too lulled by the limber legs still tangled on him and the delicate heel lightly rubbing against his ankles to even begin to anticipate that Rukia would then turn around and ask him the following question.
"Ichigo, if you could only preserve one small physical bit of my body to last you all of the rest of your eternity, what part of me would you keep?"
Naturally, Ichigo had been ready to answer anything (or so he told himself) except a question as perverted and open to a good, hard screaming fight as that. It was a very odd and absurd and no doubt evil question, one that could lead to absolutely nothing good happening as she would inevitably express surprise and shock at his slighting any of her considerably lovely parts. Rukia's wide, innocent eyes reflected her utter amusement at his surprise.
"You're hmm-ing at me again, Ichigo. Except somewhat louder this time 'round."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "That's because you’re crazy and prone to saying things that are equally wrong, like this question which, by the way, I can‘t even begin figuring out right here.“
She rolled over once, twice, till she was pressed snugly to his broader chest. Unable to resist, he brought an arm up around her, began to trace the warm, tender skin of her back, the gentle curve of her spine, the supple curve of her lower half. It didn't matter how often he got to touch her, not that it was very often at all-- every time inevitably felt like the first and last time. And considering how much action the both of them saw from any number of Hollows and general mad men every night, it really could be.
Apparently unconcerned by his sudden somberness, Rukia snuggled against him even more intently, her large, brilliant eyes gleaming with further madness. Maybe it was all due to the inbreeding no doubt practiced by the Wise and Noble House of Kuchiki.
"I mean, Ichigo, what part of me do you adore the most? That you‘d dream about even if I did die? That you'd look back on and wish you'd preserved when you had the chance, if you had the means to preserve me?"
He almost pulled away in shock. "I... God, Rukia, you really do need to get your head checked out one of those days. The hell are you talking about now? ‘Means to preserve’… seriously!”
Rukia sometimes got the most pained looks on her funny little face when she wanted to grin but held back. "You mean… you wouldn't pickle me if you had the chance?"
He only just managed to avoid rolling his eyes. On the whole, Rukia's own were often a little too sharp… to say nothing of her elbows.
“God, no. That’s disgusting. Anyway, you know I’m pretty fond of you being in one piece so… c’mon, stop talking nonsense here.”
"Not nonsense." One hand snaking out, a starfish of fingers pressing upon his cheek and forehead. "A web of sense. So tell me. What part of me couldn't you do without?"
Sometimes defeat was less troubled than a doomed struggle. Groaning, Ichigo decided that honestly sometimes was the best policy. “That’s a dangerous question to ask and you know it. In fact, you know it like I know you and the fact that if I don’t answer this right, you’ll just end up hurting me.“
Rukia's smile was stifled reflexively. And then, apparently deciding that infantilism and transparent deceit would be enough to trick him, she pouted. Don't be ridiculous. You're just trying to avoid giving an answer. I mean, really. I had no idea you became flustered and embarrassed so easily."
Ah, so that's how she would play it. Fighting his own grin, he parried her swiftly. “Don’t be stupid-- I’m not being embarrassed, Rukia, though god knows anyone who has to deal with you should probably feel this way. I’m just saying that that’s not much of a fair question to answer. A part doesn’t mean much without a whole. If I had even a bit of your hair to carry around with me, like a knight with his lady, it still would be useless if you weren’t right here beside me.”
Silence for a second, and Rukia's face tilting up to his in the pale lamp light, presenting her parted lips and sooty lashes and delicate, aristocratic profile, laughing softly. "I have no idea what you meant with that last metaphor, Ichigo. And all right., all right, you might indeed finally be uncharacteristically right in your answer. But... if it was a "fair" question I could force you into replying to, what would you say?"
And now Ichigo skimmed over her body with his wide, clear eyes. She looked almost... well, not bad looking, not when she wasn't occupied with yelling about the many inconveniences of modern life or going on about Chappy's many virtues or helping him kick ass or occasionally kicking his ass. Snowy skin and soft lips, limp limbs and funny grin, disheveled hair and shining eyes...
Well, that was Rukia, anyway. Just when you thought you had her figured out, she somehow rounded her way back and surprised you anyway.
Sometimes, though, Ichigo thought he could almost love that about her.
"But even if it wasn‘t absolutely crazy, Rukia, I couldn't answer that question anyway."
"Oh, really? Why?" Her face was sweetly eager as it turned to him in the light. It would be a shame to disappoint her now.
“You’ve got so many pretty little pieces to you, Rukia, even when you’re driving me up the wall. It’s not fair to ask me to just pick one thing to keep.”
She reared up in delight, imparting a rather delightful sensation in Ichigo as well. "Oooh, devious reply. You managed to flatter and deflect, all at the same time. You really have grown a bit over last few these years. But I still want a real answer, Ichigo. And I won’t stop until you give it to me."
Then Rukia propped herself up on one pointed arm and drew the other up around him, rising slightly again to give him a smile both lewd and lovely. "So why don’t I ravage you one more time tonight, and then let you decide?"
And that was one question that took no time to answer at all.
And as always, comments, criticism and corrections are much appreciated! With luck, someone will be able to spur my long-dormant Bleach bunny...
Title: What Socrates Said
Fandom: Bleach
Pairings: Ichigo X Rukia, Future-fic
Rating: PG-13
Summary: With a woman like Rukia, you learn to deflect the dangerous quite quickly.
Her voice came out of the darkness, and when it came, it was at first like siren song.
"… Ichigo."
"Hmm."
"Ichigo?"
"Hmmm."
"Ichigoooo…"
"Hmmmmm..."
"Ichigo!"
And what had become like a siren song immediately crystallized into Rukia’s familiar ‘I know you’re ignoring me and I know I don’t like it’ wail. Groaning a little, Ichigo pulled his pleasantly heavy head up from his pillow and towards the sprawled body of his bed-mate, squinting at her through the pale light that penetrated the blinds of their room.
"You're not going to let me enjoy the afterglow at all, are you,?"
"When I have a question on my mind? Of course not!"
He paused just then. Questions from Rukia inevitably led to either long, rambling debates about the meaning of life and existence that usually left bruises on his backside or even longer stretches of blessed, passionate silence on her part. Depending on just how long she rambled or how passionate she felt, either could be dangerous. However, since they were already in bed, his ability to shut her up before she felt the need to kick him where it would really hurt was considerably raised, and his chances of heading her off before something awful was said was even higher.
In the end, knowing that little could hold back the force that was Hurricane Rukia when she got started, Ichigo sighed and gave in. "I suppose I can't stop you if that‘s the case. Go on then, Rukia."
"All right then. Just a moment please." There was a pregnant pause as she pulled away from him to turn the lamp light on. It had been dark when they had made love, he inevitably giving in to her odd craving for softness and visual silence, as he pretty much gave in to anything she asked for when they found themselves in bed. Sighing at the memories, Ichigo watched her silhouette move gracefully with a rather unusual sense of contentment, feeling as though even a usual explosion of Shinigami crazy couldn’t dent his calm now.
As always, saying such around Rukia pretty much amounted to asking fate to kick his ass afterwards. And in retrospect, he really should have paid more attention by the mischievous smile already creeping across her face.
But he had been all too lulled by the limber legs still tangled on him and the delicate heel lightly rubbing against his ankles to even begin to anticipate that Rukia would then turn around and ask him the following question.
"Ichigo, if you could only preserve one small physical bit of my body to last you all of the rest of your eternity, what part of me would you keep?"
Naturally, Ichigo had been ready to answer anything (or so he told himself) except a question as perverted and open to a good, hard screaming fight as that. It was a very odd and absurd and no doubt evil question, one that could lead to absolutely nothing good happening as she would inevitably express surprise and shock at his slighting any of her considerably lovely parts. Rukia's wide, innocent eyes reflected her utter amusement at his surprise.
"You're hmm-ing at me again, Ichigo. Except somewhat louder this time 'round."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "That's because you’re crazy and prone to saying things that are equally wrong, like this question which, by the way, I can‘t even begin figuring out right here.“
She rolled over once, twice, till she was pressed snugly to his broader chest. Unable to resist, he brought an arm up around her, began to trace the warm, tender skin of her back, the gentle curve of her spine, the supple curve of her lower half. It didn't matter how often he got to touch her, not that it was very often at all-- every time inevitably felt like the first and last time. And considering how much action the both of them saw from any number of Hollows and general mad men every night, it really could be.
Apparently unconcerned by his sudden somberness, Rukia snuggled against him even more intently, her large, brilliant eyes gleaming with further madness. Maybe it was all due to the inbreeding no doubt practiced by the Wise and Noble House of Kuchiki.
"I mean, Ichigo, what part of me do you adore the most? That you‘d dream about even if I did die? That you'd look back on and wish you'd preserved when you had the chance, if you had the means to preserve me?"
He almost pulled away in shock. "I... God, Rukia, you really do need to get your head checked out one of those days. The hell are you talking about now? ‘Means to preserve’… seriously!”
Rukia sometimes got the most pained looks on her funny little face when she wanted to grin but held back. "You mean… you wouldn't pickle me if you had the chance?"
He only just managed to avoid rolling his eyes. On the whole, Rukia's own were often a little too sharp… to say nothing of her elbows.
“God, no. That’s disgusting. Anyway, you know I’m pretty fond of you being in one piece so… c’mon, stop talking nonsense here.”
"Not nonsense." One hand snaking out, a starfish of fingers pressing upon his cheek and forehead. "A web of sense. So tell me. What part of me couldn't you do without?"
Sometimes defeat was less troubled than a doomed struggle. Groaning, Ichigo decided that honestly sometimes was the best policy. “That’s a dangerous question to ask and you know it. In fact, you know it like I know you and the fact that if I don’t answer this right, you’ll just end up hurting me.“
Rukia's smile was stifled reflexively. And then, apparently deciding that infantilism and transparent deceit would be enough to trick him, she pouted. Don't be ridiculous. You're just trying to avoid giving an answer. I mean, really. I had no idea you became flustered and embarrassed so easily."
Ah, so that's how she would play it. Fighting his own grin, he parried her swiftly. “Don’t be stupid-- I’m not being embarrassed, Rukia, though god knows anyone who has to deal with you should probably feel this way. I’m just saying that that’s not much of a fair question to answer. A part doesn’t mean much without a whole. If I had even a bit of your hair to carry around with me, like a knight with his lady, it still would be useless if you weren’t right here beside me.”
Silence for a second, and Rukia's face tilting up to his in the pale lamp light, presenting her parted lips and sooty lashes and delicate, aristocratic profile, laughing softly. "I have no idea what you meant with that last metaphor, Ichigo. And all right., all right, you might indeed finally be uncharacteristically right in your answer. But... if it was a "fair" question I could force you into replying to, what would you say?"
And now Ichigo skimmed over her body with his wide, clear eyes. She looked almost... well, not bad looking, not when she wasn't occupied with yelling about the many inconveniences of modern life or going on about Chappy's many virtues or helping him kick ass or occasionally kicking his ass. Snowy skin and soft lips, limp limbs and funny grin, disheveled hair and shining eyes...
Well, that was Rukia, anyway. Just when you thought you had her figured out, she somehow rounded her way back and surprised you anyway.
Sometimes, though, Ichigo thought he could almost love that about her.
"But even if it wasn‘t absolutely crazy, Rukia, I couldn't answer that question anyway."
"Oh, really? Why?" Her face was sweetly eager as it turned to him in the light. It would be a shame to disappoint her now.
“You’ve got so many pretty little pieces to you, Rukia, even when you’re driving me up the wall. It’s not fair to ask me to just pick one thing to keep.”
She reared up in delight, imparting a rather delightful sensation in Ichigo as well. "Oooh, devious reply. You managed to flatter and deflect, all at the same time. You really have grown a bit over last few these years. But I still want a real answer, Ichigo. And I won’t stop until you give it to me."
Then Rukia propped herself up on one pointed arm and drew the other up around him, rising slightly again to give him a smile both lewd and lovely. "So why don’t I ravage you one more time tonight, and then let you decide?"
And that was one question that took no time to answer at all.