Bleach: The Spicy Hot Interlude [Ichigo/Renji/Rukia, PG-13]
Title: The Spicy Hot Interlude
Rating: PG-13/T
Wordcount: 307 *sorry*
Pairings/Characters: Ichigo/Renji/Rukia
Spoilers: None
Notes: Submitted to bleach_contest Week #71; Prompt: Dream; 300 word maximum.
Summary: Ichigo knew he was in for it when Rukia put down her cup and climbed right into his lap. Consider this an outtake from an earlier fic: A Night in Rukongai.
Ichigo knew he was in for it -- not when Renji bought that third pitcher of sake, not when Rukia kicked him (hard) in the shin for making fun of Byakuya's bankai, not even when the serving girl from the last bar winked at him as she wiped down their table. No, it was later, after yet another round of drinks in another bar, when Rukia set down her cup, tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and climbed right onto Ichigo's lap.
"Er… er, Rukia? What-" Ichigo didn't get to a chance to finish, for there was a mouth, clever and sweet, kissing his lips, and fingers, light delicate fingers, cradling his jaw and finding the crook of his neck and drifting down under his shihakushou to his left nipple and giving it a sharp, little twist.
He broke away, gasping, clutching his nipple like the blushing virgin he was (not that he was telling anyone). He looked in panic across the table.
He needn't have worried. Renji's mouth was hanging open, his tongue trailing a wet line across his lower lip.
As if Ichigo's life couldn't get any weirder, Rukia bent down and kissed him again.
Ichigo's hand found the small of Rukia's back and slid down. Not that he was trying to take advantage or anything, but Rukia was so soft and round; he squeezed.
"Let's get a room upstairs," Rukia whispered hotly. "Renji too."
"Wha-"
"Surely, you've thought about it, Ichigo."
"Ichigo?"
Something hard hit Ichigo on the shoulder, and he sputtered and lifted up his head. There was a noodle stuck to his cheek.
"You passed out in your soup," said Renji, laughing. Rukia, definitely not in his lap, was sitting next to Renji, howling.
Ichigo gazed forlornly back down at his soup bowl. He was in for it all right.
Rating: PG-13/T
Wordcount: 307 *sorry*
Pairings/Characters: Ichigo/Renji/Rukia
Spoilers: None
Notes: Submitted to bleach_contest Week #71; Prompt: Dream; 300 word maximum.
Summary: Ichigo knew he was in for it when Rukia put down her cup and climbed right into his lap. Consider this an outtake from an earlier fic: A Night in Rukongai.
Ichigo knew he was in for it -- not when Renji bought that third pitcher of sake, not when Rukia kicked him (hard) in the shin for making fun of Byakuya's bankai, not even when the serving girl from the last bar winked at him as she wiped down their table. No, it was later, after yet another round of drinks in another bar, when Rukia set down her cup, tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and climbed right onto Ichigo's lap.
"Er… er, Rukia? What-" Ichigo didn't get to a chance to finish, for there was a mouth, clever and sweet, kissing his lips, and fingers, light delicate fingers, cradling his jaw and finding the crook of his neck and drifting down under his shihakushou to his left nipple and giving it a sharp, little twist.
He broke away, gasping, clutching his nipple like the blushing virgin he was (not that he was telling anyone). He looked in panic across the table.
He needn't have worried. Renji's mouth was hanging open, his tongue trailing a wet line across his lower lip.
As if Ichigo's life couldn't get any weirder, Rukia bent down and kissed him again.
Ichigo's hand found the small of Rukia's back and slid down. Not that he was trying to take advantage or anything, but Rukia was so soft and round; he squeezed.
"Let's get a room upstairs," Rukia whispered hotly. "Renji too."
"Wha-"
"Surely, you've thought about it, Ichigo."
"Ichigo?"
Something hard hit Ichigo on the shoulder, and he sputtered and lifted up his head. There was a noodle stuck to his cheek.
"You passed out in your soup," said Renji, laughing. Rukia, definitely not in his lap, was sitting next to Renji, howling.
Ichigo gazed forlornly back down at his soup bowl. He was in for it all right.