Second Sight, Part 8/9: The Things I Do For You
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Part 8: The Things I Do For You (NC-17)
So move closer
I gotta feel your touch
So come over
Come on
(Kitty Litter, Placebo)
"You know, when you agreed to celebrate being eligible to pass college, I didn't really have this in mind," Renji told Ichigo on the phone, after hearing his proposal.
"Don't complain. It's the only thing on my mind anyway, so going elsewhere won't be much fun. I know art exhibitions aren't really your thing, but if worse comes to worst we can go sulk outside like we're good at."
Like Renji could say no to that. For the past fifteen minutes Ichigo had been beating around the bush, telling Renji about going somewhere else, out of the ordinary, someplace that he might not enjoy at first, until Renji snapped at him to spill it already. It was the juniors' exhibition at Ichigo's college.
Apparently it was really important for him to go check the place out when it was filled to capacity and get a feel for it. When Renji asked him if he was doing it to support the future graduates, Ichigo said fuck no, he just wanted to get ready for his own exhibition in a month. He also mumbled something about his friends and professors, but Renji was still laughing over Ichigo having friends to really get what he trying to say.
"God, you're such an asshole," Ichigo hissed, and Renji really did try to apologize, but he couldn't, and only calmed down a bit when Ichigo added, "I wish I'd never met you, you know."
Renji rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll come to the exhibit thing, stop trying to sweet-talk me into it."
"Whatever. I don't even know why I've invited you." Ichigo hung up before Renji had time to defend himself, which wasn't cool. He frowned at his phone for a few moments, and then started dialing Ichigo back, which made Shuuhei snort next to him.
Right. Of course Shuuhei was there. It was pretty early, because Ichigo woke Renji up by calling him to let him know he'd passed all of his exams and had enough credits to graduate from Seireitei College, and Shuuhei just always woke up early.
Renji was watching a daytime drama while still on the phone and Shuuhei was reading his newspaper, with the occasional let's-mock-Renji break. The latest one made Renji hesitate in calling Ichigo back, which in turn made him glare at Shuuhei.
"You're acting like a schoolgirl. It's cute," Shuuhei said, never looking away from the article he'd been reading.
Oh, Renji was still glaring, intensely. Fine. So he wouldn't call Ichigo back. But if they broke up over this or something, it would totally be Shuuhei's fault. Renji was still rocking it. "You're a schoolgirl," he retorted.
Shuuhei chuckled, and turned a page. "So you're going out again?"
Renji started returning his attention to the TV. "Yeah. He wants me to come to this exhibition at his college tonight."
More chuckles. It was really starting to piss Renji off. "Remember the effort it took me to get you to come to that first art exhibition?"
Wow. It seemed like such a long time ago. Come to think of it, it was really all thanks to Shuuhei. Double wow.
"You should meet Ichigo." It came out before Renji could really think about it, but there it was, and it was true. "I mean, it's weird that I live with you and he hasn't met you yet. It's rude. Of him."
Finally, Shuuhei looked at him from over the newspaper. "What you meant to say was that it's important to you. And yeah, I'd like to meet him."
Maybe he was right. Both Shuuhei and Ichigo were kind of his best friends right then, so it made sense that they should meet and hang out together. They might even like each other. Or… well, if Shuuhei liked Renji, he might like Ichigo. There was no doubt about Ichigo liking him back-Shuuhei was cool and epic and likeable. So Ichigo-unsociable and scowling-was his main concern.
Maybe it was important to Renji for them to approve of each other. He ended up bumping Shuuhei's shoulder, because he was a bit of a genius.
The hours crawled by, until Ichigo ended up calling him back (thankfully, after Shuuhei had gone out to work). Neither of them actually apologized; there was just a silent moment of, 'hey, are we cool?' 'yeah, totally' that made things okay. When they talked about how they would get Renji to the exhibit it was totally normal.
They said that Renji would drive down to Ichigo's place, and then they'd walk to the campus. Renji really liked that plan (it meant that they'd have to go back to Ichigo's place after the exhibit, which meant sex), and hung up with much higher spirits.
When they made their way there the weather was on the nice side of hot and Ichigo was telling him about the exam he'd passed and how, in celebration, his student advisor-Ukitake something-had offered him two pieces of candy instead of the usual one (as if getting offered candy was very usual, and didn't make Renji feel like he was in a relationship with a kid).
The exhibition itself was… weird, really. The truth was that he'd expected it to be totally boring and to wonder why the hell he'd agreed to go there in the first place, but it was really just bizarre.
When Renji had been in college, he'd been a bit of a stellar student before Rukia had left to some private academy funded by her adoptive (and aristocratic asshole of a) brother. After that, well, a two-year college experience had been quite enough for Renji. He'd said goodbye to academia, gotten an apartment with Shuuhei, and worked his ass off.
Since then, Renji hadn't come into contact with college students, barring Ichigo. Suddenly being in a room with forty or so was bizarre. Their voices were all hushed, like they were in awe of their own art, or of the people walking by them and scribbling in their notebooks.
Ichigo explained that they were all being graded and critiqued by faculty members, so they were probably shitting their pants. Renji was about to ask if Ichigo had gone through that last year, but when he turned Ichigo was already gone.
Renji spotted him every now and then, hanging around everyone and staring at walls, occasionally chatting with professors. He never looked nervous, because Ichigo was just that kind of guy, but Renji could see he was uneasy. That was probably the only reason Renji didn't complain about being left alone like that.
He guessed the art around him was impressive. There was fine art, photography, sculpture, and some things Renji himself just couldn't identify. He saw some students peeking in his direction (he could tell which people were students just by the smell of fear on them) and some checking him out, which was also weird. He was monogamous, and way out of most of their leagues. He was out of Ichigo's league, really.
His contemplations were interrupted when Ichigo materialized next to him. The brat didn't even bother to ask him if he was enjoying himself or needed anything before he whispered in his ear "I found my wall" like he didn't want anyone else to find it before them, and dragged Renji to the left.
The room was massive, and seemed specifically designed to show art. For example, at four points in the room, the walls curved into a semicircle, in which stood a student-made sculpture. They were approaching one of those then, and Renji froze at the sight of a student.
"What the fuck, I remember that guy," he whispered kind of urgently to Ichigo. The chances were pretty slim that there were two blue-haired guys in Seireitei. It was a bit of a relief to know that the guy who'd blown Ichigo had already known him from college. A bit.
Ichigo caught on quickly. "Yeah, that's Grimmjow."
"He's the one that-"
"Yeah."
Things just kept getting weirder and weirder, kind of like the way Renji was feeling his stomach knot. He never wanted to see that guy again. He never wanted to think of that guy again.
Sure, he might have helped Renji figure some stuff out that night, and Renji could see what Ichigo might have found in him-the guy was ripped-but he still felt a bit queasy thinking about Ichigo's cock in that guy's mouth. Grimmjow. What a stupid name, too.
When Ichigo spoke again, he sounded mostly amused. "You've gone to college, right?"
Renji could have snarled. "The rule to never get in the way of a blow job? Fucking forget about it." He nudged Ichigo's shoulder with his own, which must have been the most affection he'd ever shown him.
He noticed the proprietary hand he'd put on Ichigo's arm a little too late. It suddenly struck him that they'd never actually talked about being monogamous. On his end, well, Ichigo was more than a handful, and he guessed it would feel pretty bad to have sex with someone else right then. On Ichigo's end, Renji kind of relied on Ichigo never getting laid anyway.
Renji hated Grimmjow.
Ichigo chuckled, looking up at him in surprise. "No blow jobs? That's lame."
"You're lame," Renji retorted, crossing his arms.
"He really is," someone else said, making Renji turn around and pray it wasn't Grimmjow.
Thankfully, it wasn't. The guy behind him was way shorter than Ichigo, younger-looking, and had black hair and big headphones around his neck. Renji looked from him to Ichigo a bit suspiciously, and found that Ichigo was smiling a bit fondly at the stranger, before he got a hold of himself and frowned.
"I'm not lame, for fuck's sake. Renji, this is Mizuiro."
Even. Weirder.
By the end of that night, Renji had met three of Ichigo's friends (implying there were more, implying Ichigo had friends, who, oddly enough, weren't as surprised by his existence as he was by theirs), been introduced to the student advisor (he offered Renji only one candy, which was insulting, really. The whole candy-giving thing was ridiculous and childish, but... why should Ichigo get more?), went back to Ichigo's place and had sex.
He thought briefly that meeting so many of the people in Ichigo's life and walking around in his campus meant something about their friendship or relationship or Ichigo or whatever, but the thought came to him after the sex part, so he didn't really dwell on it.
*
It seemed a little too formal to call Renji and request his presence in the studio, but Ichigo hoped that if it was formal and he stated his intentions up front, they might actually get some work done. He was lacking a sixth piece, after all.
It was a pity how Ichigo's plans always foiled themselves. He lost his concentration the moment Renji walked into the room, wearing loose black pants and shirt, the one with the deep V neckline, and an undershirt peeking out from underneath it, also displaying his tattooed collarbones.
A silver headband covered the top of his head and extended almost to his waist, and Ichigo should have been able to laugh at his pigtails, he really should have, but he couldn't. Even the square, purple-tinted shades weren't that funny.
When Renji raised his hand to remove them, some instinct made Ichigo step up to him and say, "Who told you to take them off?"
It was either the stepping up or the instruction that changed Renji's attitude. Renji smirked, taking the one step needed to reach Ichigo and putting his hand on the small of Ichigo's back. He looked down at him from over his sunglasses, and a loose strand of hair brushed over Ichigo's cheek. One of the most startling revelations Ichigo had had to date was that he really, really liked how Renji smelled, and standing so close to him…
No. He had to take some pictures before getting Renji dirty.
He pushed Renji away and stepped back himself, hoping that his glare was convincing. He didn't really put effort behind it, and he looked away after a second anyway, turning to his autofocus camera. "I wanna take a picture of you fully clothed," he said, reminding himself of the stating intentions plan.
"Why?" Renji asked, sounding a bit put off. Ichigo chuckled at the thought that it truly confused Renji that he didn't kiss him. "You won't be able to help yourself?" And back to smug.
"No, it's just…" How should he put it? "If I take off your clothes now it'll feel… too personal. Like I was doing it for me and not for the sake of the project, y'know?"
"So, you won't be able to help yourself."
Ichigo looked up at him, glaring again. Renji was smirking. "Just shut up and get ready."
"I think you like looking at me more than you like me," he complained, crossing his arms and bringing Ichigo's attention to his watch and the ring he was wearing on his middle finger. It was… a nice ring.
Ichigo shook his head, refocusing on Renji's complaint. The uncertainly the statement might have conveyed was completely drowned out by Renji's smug tone, so Ichigo didn't feel very guilty when he said, "You're obviously right. But you know, moron, you and your… looks are kind of a package deal."
Renji was starting to look confused again, and Ichigo sighed and stopped preparing his camera to give Renji his full attention. "I like you, okay? It's not my fault you're fucking good-looking. Now stop pouting and go…" He scanned the studio, trying to come up with something interesting for them to do today. His eyes lit up, and then he looked back to Renji. "Sit on the couch." They'd never done that before.
Renji smiled victoriously and did as he was told. Ichigo couldn't help it that his breath caught when Renji sat heavily on the couch and rolled up his sleeves. He spread his arms on the backrest and put one leg over the other, looking the way he always looked-like he owned the place.
"Should I really stop pouting?" Renji asked, and even though he had his shades on Ichigo could feel the leer directed at him. "You seemed to like my lips an awful lot two nights ago."
And then he went and said things like that and-no. You're stronger than him. "Shut up. This is why I won't be able to hand in a decent documentation of my artistic process and impress my professor."
Renji smirked at him, and then looked at the second camera, resting on a tripod right behind them. "It's always in the self-timer mode when we work, right? Personally, I think that if you take a picture of me looking at you the way you want me to look at you, it would present your artistic process perfectly." He tilted his head up and stuck out his chin, drawing Ichigo's eyes to his lips again. "I know I look good like that, Ichigo."
Renji was playing dirty. Ichigo shook his head and tried his damn hardest not to be lured in. "Why, have you ever fucked in front of a mirror?"
"No, but I've jerked off in front of it a few times."
Ichigo's finger slipped on the shutter button, which hadn't happened in a long time and made him feel like a freshman (among the many other things he felt at that moment). When he looked down for the sake of not looking at Renji, he was surprised by the image display screen.
The camera focused automatically, but Ichigo hadn't been aiming and the frame cut out a bit of Renji's left side. While it would have annoyed the hell out of him any other time, in this shot he had other things to look at. Like the way Renji's black shirt and pants blended with the couch and made the tacky watch and ring on Renji's right hand stand out, the strong muscle of his right forearm prominent. The white belt and silver headband also did wonders for the contrast Ichigo kept seeking in Renji. His skin toned by the light filtering from the window, his collarbones, his tattoos, even the ones on his neck that Ichigo loved so much-somehow he got them all in that one spontaneous shot.
You do look good like that, he thought as he inspected the picture further. Renji's expression showed nothing but his attitude, which was kind of the point. His upper lip was quirked up so his mouth was just barely open, just enough to make Ichigo remember everything Renji had done two night ago-the way he had kissed and nipped and teased and sucked, or the way he'd whispered, fuck-and his head was tilted back, like he wondered what the hell Ichigo was doing there. For all he knew, Renji did own the damn place.
He knew just by the look on Renji's face what he would call this piece and where he would put it. "Sin", between "Passion" and "Fire". He could paint the walls red or something. Oh, that's actually pretty good.
After he'd seen his walls (well, a wall, and two others half its size enclosing the space, making a small "room"), he could envision pretty much anything. Yeah, if he painted it red it would complement the black and white drawings and get his point across. Who cared if it would be too literal? He wanted to get in people's faces.
"Is it really good?" Renji's voice rose.
Ichigo looked up, jarred out of his thoughts. "Huh?"
Renji motioned toward Ichigo's hands. "The picture. You've been looking at it for a long time." He didn't sound very accusatory, but Ichigo still felt like he'd been caught doing something wrong.
"If it's that good," Renji continued, "maybe we should take a break. I think the couch is big enough for both of us."
Instead of scooting over and making room for Ichigo, Renji just spread his legs wider and patted the backrest so Ichigo would come. As if that weren't annoying enough, he finally took his shades and headband off, like he was the one to decide when the session was over. It was just so typical of him that every rational part of Ichigo's brain told him to stand up to Renji.
Yet there he was, settling next to Renji on the couch, and then on Renji within seconds, kissing him hungrily. It still amazed him that he could take great pictures like that and then actually get to touch his subject. It still amazed him that just the photos of Renji got him hot and bothered in a matter of minutes.
Not that Renji himself was doing a bad job at that. The moment Ichigo straddled him, Renji opened Ichigo's mouth and darted his tongue in, sweeping over his lips and tongue and leaving a tingling sensation no matter what he did. When he started sucking on Ichigo's tongue, well, Ichigo thought it was pretty lucky that they hadn't kissed before he'd taken the pictures, because this? He couldn't imagine stopping.
He vaguely felt Renji's hands move over his body, and jolted when they settled on his ass and pulled him toward Renji's hot body. When their groins grinded together Ichigo took a sharp breath, his hands tightening around Renji's braids subconsciously. He wanted to pull them, wanted Renji to toss his head back so he could suck on the very edge of the tattoo on Renji's neck, but pulling his shirts off seemed more important.
He got the black one off (thankfully, Renji had taken off his watch at some point so the fabric didn't catch on it, but he left his ring on and it made Ichigo shudder), but by the time he got to the undershirt Renji yanked him forward again while bucking his own hips up, and god, then he started talking. "I wanna fuck you like this," he whispered into Ichigo's ear. "I want you to ride me while we're sitting up and I can feel you move."
Ichigo uttered a curse, and nearly ripped Renji's shirt off before removing his own tank. Finally they were pressed together, close enough to fuck and for him to rub against Renji's torso, to grab hold of Renji's shoulder with one hand and the backrest with the other. Once he felt steady enough, he closed his mouth over the crook of Renji's neck, feeling Renji's chest vibrate when he made a small appreciative sound.
Renji's hands moved from his ass up his back, scratching his skin and kneading his muscles. He was still pulling him forward, like they couldn't be close enough. Ichigo was reminded of the main objective-of what Renji had said he wanted-only when Renji's ring scraped his back, the harsh cold of the metal against his skin making him moan.
He wanted it-he wanted Renji inside him, he wanted to move. He needed him so much it was hard to breathe, and he had to stop. With amazing effort, he pulled away from Renji's insanely hot skin, and cursed.
"I don't keep condoms here," he said, his voice too unsteady for his tastes.
He'd left everything in the living room, and while he knew he'd have to get up anyway to get rid of his pants, right then the thought was unbearable. Renji lifted his hand and buried his fingers in Ichigo's hair, tugging on it none too gently so Ichigo would look him in the eye. It was crazy, the shock that touch sent down his body. Once he did look into Renji's eyes-dark, heavy-lidded, sexy as hell-it was hard to breathe again.
Renji still didn't let go of his hair when he said, "I brought some condoms and lube in my bag."
Ichigo let out a breathy chuckle. "You planned this?"
"I'm always prepared when it comes to you," Renji replied, a glint of amusement in his eyes, before he ducked his head and nipped Ichigo's lower lip, soft, a contrast to his hold on Ichigo's hair. Like a promise for more.
Suddenly, getting up to get rid of his pants didn't seem half as painful as not fucking in the next five minutes. He kissed Renji again, because he had to, but knew to stop before he lost his resolve to move away.
Finally, he managed to get his feet on the ground, and even stood up somewhat stably. He stuck his thumbs under the waistband of his sweatpants and his underwear, careful to keep his eyes locked on Renji.
The far-gone look was replaced by intense interest when Renji looked at his body, and to be honest, given Renji's body-muscles and tattoos and places to look at for hours-Ichigo couldn't really think of a reason to be given those kinds of looks. It didn't really matter to him right then. In other moments it might matter, perhaps, like when Renji dared him to stay put and kissed his way down his torso, paid attention to every part of him until Ichigo couldn't stay put anymore.
Not that time. Once he was finally naked, his only objective was to get Renji in that state too. Though, really, with Renji staring at him and sucking his lip into his mouth like that, the only thing Ichigo could do was kiss him again, hard, while he pulled Renji's belt off. In a startling display of usefulness, Renji took off his pants all by himself.
Ichigo leaned down to pick up the condoms and lubricant in Renji's bag, and barely managed to get a hold of them before Renji pulled him into his lap again and ran his hands all over his sides, his chest, grazing his nipples with his nails and then the ring (bastard must have caught on).
When he reached Ichigo's hands, he grabbed his wrists firmly and pulled them up, silently asking Ichigo to wrap them around his shoulders. He did it, and ran his tongue over Renji's neck, biting down on the spot under his ear, because that was probably one thing Ichigo would never get tired of.
Renji was loud by then, rewarding Ichigo for anything he did and turning him on impossibly more, but Ichigo still heard exactly when Renji opened the cap of the lube. He couldn't help the shiver that went through him, anticipation and want overriding everything else.
He lifted himself to his knees and Renji caught up without skipping a beat, leaning fully on the backrest so Ichigo would still be able to reach his neck. Renji's clean hand (with the goddamn ring) brushed over his ass, parting his cheeks and letting the other hand-slick, Ichigo felt, and shuddered again-circle his entrance. He teased him for a few more torturous seconds, making him hiss and strain to stay upright, before suddenly he thrust two fingers in. Ichigo cried out, blinded for a second and digging his fingernails into Renji's shoulders, and fuck, fuck, fuck.
He squeezed his eyes shut, and Renji gave him only a moment to take a deep breath and grasp all the sensations running through him, before he pulled his fingers out, and then pushed back in. It was less of a shock this time, and god, Renji was going fast.
It didn't really matter-they fucked on an almost daily basis, it wasn't like Ichigo needed a lot of time to relax for it-but with the way he was going, Ichigo could already feel the pleasure building up deep inside him. He understood the urgency the moment he felt just how hard Renji was.
It didn't take long for Ichigo to start pushing back against Renji's fingers, moaning at the feeling of him inside, of the way he moved, of… fuck, he was losing it. He pulled back until his mouth was directly above Renji's ear, and considered telling him, telling him how much he wanted him and how good he felt and to fuck him already, fuck him just as fast and hard as he was with his fingers, but he couldn't trust his words right then. Instead of saying anything, he bit down, hard, on Renji's neck, and hoped it would move things along.
The sound Renji made was its own reward. Thankfully, he also got his point across. Renji's fingers slipped out of him, and Ichigo was startled to realize he was shaking. He felt Renji move-rolling the condom on and slicking his cock up-but honestly, all Ichigo could focus on was his heartbeat hammering in his ears, and on maybe trying to calm down so it wouldn't be over too quickly.
He managed to catch his breath, slightly, before he felt the head of Renji's cock at his entrance. They both froze for a moment, gathering some self-control before it would all be blown to hell.
He couldn't stand it.
"Go," he whispered, and Renji didn't waste a second before bucking his hips up, so fast it stung, so fast Ichigo moaned and shook again and god, it felt so good. He was kind of lost for a few moments, his chest pressed against Renji, gasping and cursing and groaning while Renji fucked him, cursing too in that voice of his, whispering Ichigo.
All of a sudden it wasn't enough. He tightened his legs around Renji's thighs and bore down when Renji thrust up, and they both immediately cried out at the sensation, at how deep he was, at how amazing that felt.
They were synced now, and if Renji wanted to feel Ichigo move, well, he got his wish-Ichigo felt restless, he slid his hands from Renji's shoulders to his sides, to his hair, moved his mouth from his neck to his ear, and finally moved his hips up and down, taking Renji as best as he could and losing it, little by little.
His body jerked suddenly when Renji's ring pressed into his shoulder, and really, he just needed to… he leaned close to Renji's ear again and whispered, "Put your ring finger in my mouth."
He was rewarded by a sharp slam of Renji's hips, and then he actually did put his finger in Ichigo's mouth, and oh, fuck. The shock of metal against his tongue made Ichigo gasp and jerk in Renji's grasp again, somehow intensifying everything else. It must have been doing something for Renji too, because when Ichigo closed his teeth around the ring and sucked on his finger, Renji growled right into his ear, a combination of fuck, Ichigo, and yeah, keep doing that.
For some reason the encouragement from Renji really went a long way, and before Ichigo even knew it, he was riding him harder, one hand on his arm for balance, probably leaving bruises on it, and the other buried in his hair.
Renji was right there with him, his free hand starting to move from Ichigo's ass to his hip, and then he muttered to him, "You ready?"
Ichigo moaned around Renji's finger, so ready he could barely think, could barely see. And then his mouth was free and Renji's fingers wrapped around his cock, somehow, and he really lost it. His eyes screwed shut and he could feel every muscle in his body clench when he was thrown over the edge, violently, with Renji still fucking him like he couldn't stop himself.
Renji came only a few seconds after him, and for a full minute, they stayed just like that, kind of holding each other and mostly refocusing on breathing normally.
That was a good one.
"That was a good one," Renji mumbled, and Ichigo nodded, chuckling. He tried to pull back and kiss Renji, because it felt right, but when he tried to move he felt uncomfortably sticky, which prompted him to just get off the couch. Fortunately, his muscles cooperated.
Renji already knew where to toss the condom and wipe his hands and stomach, so Ichigo didn't say anything before he stumbled to his bathroom and washed up quickly. When he padded back into the studio, Renji had his pants back on (Ichigo did not feel dissatisfaction).
He was sitting on the armrest of the couch and staring at his desk. Yeah, Ichigo should probably clean the couch before either of them would sit on it rather than the armrest. As for the staring, well, he chalked that up to Renji's endless fascination with the magical desk.
Ichigo looked around the room to check if there was anything else to clean up or cleanse. The desk had passed his inspection-and his heart sank when he realized the self-timer camera was working in full swing, and had been ever since Renji had come in.
"Shit," was all he could say, because shit. Renji perked up a bit and looked at him curiously, and then followed his eyes and ended up staring at the camera too. It was clicking. Innocently. Shit.
Of course, worse came to worst, because then Renji said, "Can I keep the pictures?"
Which just… "No." He'd never intended to take that kind of picture of himself. Renji, sure, plenty of times, but not with him in the frame. That was just weird.
Renji was still trying to convince him. "Ichigo, you have a million pictures of me on your hard drive, why can't I keep a few of you?"
Because I'm naked didn't seem like a good excuse, nor was because it's indecent. Horrifyingly, he felt his resolve start to dissipate. Must have been the good fuck. Plus, it wasn't like he'd use them for his project. And there was a limit to what Renji could do with them. He thought there was, anyway. And if he'd just finished his project, well, then on the off chance that signified the end of… them, then it would be wise not to delete the pictures just yet. And Renji deserved a reward for good behavior. The things I do for you.
Finally, Ichigo nodded. He walked over to the camera and ejected the memory card, handing it over to Renji as slowly as humanly possible. "Just make sure they don't leave your laptop," he finally said, giving Renji a serious glare.
He kind of forgot about the exchange for the next couple of days. Professor Zangetsu said the last piece was very good and would fit in nicely where Ichigo said he would put it. Ichigo also tried to figure out how one would go about painting college property, and prodded Professor Zangetsu to at least tell him whom he should ask.
Any thought about Renji breaking up with him once they were done with the six pieces (and sketchbook, since the day before) was all forgotten. It became an issue of how to get rid of him when Ichigo needed to work and mentally prepare for the biggest thing he'd ever put up for public viewing.
Yet when he did manage to get rid of him, he just felt weird and alone. Both had been usual and normal, before Renji had showed up. By then…
The accidental photo shoot resurfaced in the morning, a few days later. Ichigo woke up without Renji somewhere next to him, and was immediately, scarily unhappy. It was quite surprising, really. Ichigo was getting attached, and he wasn't sure if it suited him.
He got up to the morning ritual of coffee, followed by email checking and-holy fucking shit. It was surprising, to say the least, to turn on his laptop screen and see a picture of him and Renji, one of those pictures of him and Renji, and holy fucking shit.
Renji must have tinkered with his Photoshop, as the picture was cropped-above the chest, thankfully-and was in Grayscale mode (something like 'aw, he remembered' passed through Ichigo's head). And Ichigo knew exactly when that frame had been taken. It was the second after they'd come.
Ichigo's hand was buried in Renji's hair and clasped tight to the roots, tight enough for his arm muscles to flex and practically frame Renji's face. And oh, Renji's face. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open, his lips puffy. His neck was arched and his shoulders were drawn back so that his chest was visible, was incredible. The sweat only enhanced the contrast of the tattoos, made the lighting seem even more impressive.
He followed the tattoos on Renji's bicep with his eyes until he was looking at Renji's hand, his fingers that were digging into Ichigo's back. Just looking at the picture made Ichigo feel like Renji was right there with him again, scratching his back the way he liked.
Ichigo's shoulder blades made a fine contrast as well, and his hair was damp, sticking to the back of his neck and to his forehead. Renji's face was obscuring his so that mostly Ichigo's teeth showed, latched onto Renji's shoulder. His eyes were shut too, but not in pain, he looked like he was… savoring, and fuck if it wasn't weird to analyze a photo of himself. Fuck if they didn't look good like that.
The email itself only had one sentence. "Told you."
LAST PART!
Part 8: The Things I Do For You (NC-17)
So move closer
I gotta feel your touch
So come over
Come on
(Kitty Litter, Placebo)
"You know, when you agreed to celebrate being eligible to pass college, I didn't really have this in mind," Renji told Ichigo on the phone, after hearing his proposal.
"Don't complain. It's the only thing on my mind anyway, so going elsewhere won't be much fun. I know art exhibitions aren't really your thing, but if worse comes to worst we can go sulk outside like we're good at."
Like Renji could say no to that. For the past fifteen minutes Ichigo had been beating around the bush, telling Renji about going somewhere else, out of the ordinary, someplace that he might not enjoy at first, until Renji snapped at him to spill it already. It was the juniors' exhibition at Ichigo's college.
Apparently it was really important for him to go check the place out when it was filled to capacity and get a feel for it. When Renji asked him if he was doing it to support the future graduates, Ichigo said fuck no, he just wanted to get ready for his own exhibition in a month. He also mumbled something about his friends and professors, but Renji was still laughing over Ichigo having friends to really get what he trying to say.
"God, you're such an asshole," Ichigo hissed, and Renji really did try to apologize, but he couldn't, and only calmed down a bit when Ichigo added, "I wish I'd never met you, you know."
Renji rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll come to the exhibit thing, stop trying to sweet-talk me into it."
"Whatever. I don't even know why I've invited you." Ichigo hung up before Renji had time to defend himself, which wasn't cool. He frowned at his phone for a few moments, and then started dialing Ichigo back, which made Shuuhei snort next to him.
Right. Of course Shuuhei was there. It was pretty early, because Ichigo woke Renji up by calling him to let him know he'd passed all of his exams and had enough credits to graduate from Seireitei College, and Shuuhei just always woke up early.
Renji was watching a daytime drama while still on the phone and Shuuhei was reading his newspaper, with the occasional let's-mock-Renji break. The latest one made Renji hesitate in calling Ichigo back, which in turn made him glare at Shuuhei.
"You're acting like a schoolgirl. It's cute," Shuuhei said, never looking away from the article he'd been reading.
Oh, Renji was still glaring, intensely. Fine. So he wouldn't call Ichigo back. But if they broke up over this or something, it would totally be Shuuhei's fault. Renji was still rocking it. "You're a schoolgirl," he retorted.
Shuuhei chuckled, and turned a page. "So you're going out again?"
Renji started returning his attention to the TV. "Yeah. He wants me to come to this exhibition at his college tonight."
More chuckles. It was really starting to piss Renji off. "Remember the effort it took me to get you to come to that first art exhibition?"
Wow. It seemed like such a long time ago. Come to think of it, it was really all thanks to Shuuhei. Double wow.
"You should meet Ichigo." It came out before Renji could really think about it, but there it was, and it was true. "I mean, it's weird that I live with you and he hasn't met you yet. It's rude. Of him."
Finally, Shuuhei looked at him from over the newspaper. "What you meant to say was that it's important to you. And yeah, I'd like to meet him."
Maybe he was right. Both Shuuhei and Ichigo were kind of his best friends right then, so it made sense that they should meet and hang out together. They might even like each other. Or… well, if Shuuhei liked Renji, he might like Ichigo. There was no doubt about Ichigo liking him back-Shuuhei was cool and epic and likeable. So Ichigo-unsociable and scowling-was his main concern.
Maybe it was important to Renji for them to approve of each other. He ended up bumping Shuuhei's shoulder, because he was a bit of a genius.
The hours crawled by, until Ichigo ended up calling him back (thankfully, after Shuuhei had gone out to work). Neither of them actually apologized; there was just a silent moment of, 'hey, are we cool?' 'yeah, totally' that made things okay. When they talked about how they would get Renji to the exhibit it was totally normal.
They said that Renji would drive down to Ichigo's place, and then they'd walk to the campus. Renji really liked that plan (it meant that they'd have to go back to Ichigo's place after the exhibit, which meant sex), and hung up with much higher spirits.
When they made their way there the weather was on the nice side of hot and Ichigo was telling him about the exam he'd passed and how, in celebration, his student advisor-Ukitake something-had offered him two pieces of candy instead of the usual one (as if getting offered candy was very usual, and didn't make Renji feel like he was in a relationship with a kid).
The exhibition itself was… weird, really. The truth was that he'd expected it to be totally boring and to wonder why the hell he'd agreed to go there in the first place, but it was really just bizarre.
When Renji had been in college, he'd been a bit of a stellar student before Rukia had left to some private academy funded by her adoptive (and aristocratic asshole of a) brother. After that, well, a two-year college experience had been quite enough for Renji. He'd said goodbye to academia, gotten an apartment with Shuuhei, and worked his ass off.
Since then, Renji hadn't come into contact with college students, barring Ichigo. Suddenly being in a room with forty or so was bizarre. Their voices were all hushed, like they were in awe of their own art, or of the people walking by them and scribbling in their notebooks.
Ichigo explained that they were all being graded and critiqued by faculty members, so they were probably shitting their pants. Renji was about to ask if Ichigo had gone through that last year, but when he turned Ichigo was already gone.
Renji spotted him every now and then, hanging around everyone and staring at walls, occasionally chatting with professors. He never looked nervous, because Ichigo was just that kind of guy, but Renji could see he was uneasy. That was probably the only reason Renji didn't complain about being left alone like that.
He guessed the art around him was impressive. There was fine art, photography, sculpture, and some things Renji himself just couldn't identify. He saw some students peeking in his direction (he could tell which people were students just by the smell of fear on them) and some checking him out, which was also weird. He was monogamous, and way out of most of their leagues. He was out of Ichigo's league, really.
His contemplations were interrupted when Ichigo materialized next to him. The brat didn't even bother to ask him if he was enjoying himself or needed anything before he whispered in his ear "I found my wall" like he didn't want anyone else to find it before them, and dragged Renji to the left.
The room was massive, and seemed specifically designed to show art. For example, at four points in the room, the walls curved into a semicircle, in which stood a student-made sculpture. They were approaching one of those then, and Renji froze at the sight of a student.
"What the fuck, I remember that guy," he whispered kind of urgently to Ichigo. The chances were pretty slim that there were two blue-haired guys in Seireitei. It was a bit of a relief to know that the guy who'd blown Ichigo had already known him from college. A bit.
Ichigo caught on quickly. "Yeah, that's Grimmjow."
"He's the one that-"
"Yeah."
Things just kept getting weirder and weirder, kind of like the way Renji was feeling his stomach knot. He never wanted to see that guy again. He never wanted to think of that guy again.
Sure, he might have helped Renji figure some stuff out that night, and Renji could see what Ichigo might have found in him-the guy was ripped-but he still felt a bit queasy thinking about Ichigo's cock in that guy's mouth. Grimmjow. What a stupid name, too.
When Ichigo spoke again, he sounded mostly amused. "You've gone to college, right?"
Renji could have snarled. "The rule to never get in the way of a blow job? Fucking forget about it." He nudged Ichigo's shoulder with his own, which must have been the most affection he'd ever shown him.
He noticed the proprietary hand he'd put on Ichigo's arm a little too late. It suddenly struck him that they'd never actually talked about being monogamous. On his end, well, Ichigo was more than a handful, and he guessed it would feel pretty bad to have sex with someone else right then. On Ichigo's end, Renji kind of relied on Ichigo never getting laid anyway.
Renji hated Grimmjow.
Ichigo chuckled, looking up at him in surprise. "No blow jobs? That's lame."
"You're lame," Renji retorted, crossing his arms.
"He really is," someone else said, making Renji turn around and pray it wasn't Grimmjow.
Thankfully, it wasn't. The guy behind him was way shorter than Ichigo, younger-looking, and had black hair and big headphones around his neck. Renji looked from him to Ichigo a bit suspiciously, and found that Ichigo was smiling a bit fondly at the stranger, before he got a hold of himself and frowned.
"I'm not lame, for fuck's sake. Renji, this is Mizuiro."
Even. Weirder.
By the end of that night, Renji had met three of Ichigo's friends (implying there were more, implying Ichigo had friends, who, oddly enough, weren't as surprised by his existence as he was by theirs), been introduced to the student advisor (he offered Renji only one candy, which was insulting, really. The whole candy-giving thing was ridiculous and childish, but... why should Ichigo get more?), went back to Ichigo's place and had sex.
He thought briefly that meeting so many of the people in Ichigo's life and walking around in his campus meant something about their friendship or relationship or Ichigo or whatever, but the thought came to him after the sex part, so he didn't really dwell on it.
*
It seemed a little too formal to call Renji and request his presence in the studio, but Ichigo hoped that if it was formal and he stated his intentions up front, they might actually get some work done. He was lacking a sixth piece, after all.
It was a pity how Ichigo's plans always foiled themselves. He lost his concentration the moment Renji walked into the room, wearing loose black pants and shirt, the one with the deep V neckline, and an undershirt peeking out from underneath it, also displaying his tattooed collarbones.
A silver headband covered the top of his head and extended almost to his waist, and Ichigo should have been able to laugh at his pigtails, he really should have, but he couldn't. Even the square, purple-tinted shades weren't that funny.
When Renji raised his hand to remove them, some instinct made Ichigo step up to him and say, "Who told you to take them off?"
It was either the stepping up or the instruction that changed Renji's attitude. Renji smirked, taking the one step needed to reach Ichigo and putting his hand on the small of Ichigo's back. He looked down at him from over his sunglasses, and a loose strand of hair brushed over Ichigo's cheek. One of the most startling revelations Ichigo had had to date was that he really, really liked how Renji smelled, and standing so close to him…
No. He had to take some pictures before getting Renji dirty.
He pushed Renji away and stepped back himself, hoping that his glare was convincing. He didn't really put effort behind it, and he looked away after a second anyway, turning to his autofocus camera. "I wanna take a picture of you fully clothed," he said, reminding himself of the stating intentions plan.
"Why?" Renji asked, sounding a bit put off. Ichigo chuckled at the thought that it truly confused Renji that he didn't kiss him. "You won't be able to help yourself?" And back to smug.
"No, it's just…" How should he put it? "If I take off your clothes now it'll feel… too personal. Like I was doing it for me and not for the sake of the project, y'know?"
"So, you won't be able to help yourself."
Ichigo looked up at him, glaring again. Renji was smirking. "Just shut up and get ready."
"I think you like looking at me more than you like me," he complained, crossing his arms and bringing Ichigo's attention to his watch and the ring he was wearing on his middle finger. It was… a nice ring.
Ichigo shook his head, refocusing on Renji's complaint. The uncertainly the statement might have conveyed was completely drowned out by Renji's smug tone, so Ichigo didn't feel very guilty when he said, "You're obviously right. But you know, moron, you and your… looks are kind of a package deal."
Renji was starting to look confused again, and Ichigo sighed and stopped preparing his camera to give Renji his full attention. "I like you, okay? It's not my fault you're fucking good-looking. Now stop pouting and go…" He scanned the studio, trying to come up with something interesting for them to do today. His eyes lit up, and then he looked back to Renji. "Sit on the couch." They'd never done that before.
Renji smiled victoriously and did as he was told. Ichigo couldn't help it that his breath caught when Renji sat heavily on the couch and rolled up his sleeves. He spread his arms on the backrest and put one leg over the other, looking the way he always looked-like he owned the place.
"Should I really stop pouting?" Renji asked, and even though he had his shades on Ichigo could feel the leer directed at him. "You seemed to like my lips an awful lot two nights ago."
And then he went and said things like that and-no. You're stronger than him. "Shut up. This is why I won't be able to hand in a decent documentation of my artistic process and impress my professor."
Renji smirked at him, and then looked at the second camera, resting on a tripod right behind them. "It's always in the self-timer mode when we work, right? Personally, I think that if you take a picture of me looking at you the way you want me to look at you, it would present your artistic process perfectly." He tilted his head up and stuck out his chin, drawing Ichigo's eyes to his lips again. "I know I look good like that, Ichigo."
Renji was playing dirty. Ichigo shook his head and tried his damn hardest not to be lured in. "Why, have you ever fucked in front of a mirror?"
"No, but I've jerked off in front of it a few times."
Ichigo's finger slipped on the shutter button, which hadn't happened in a long time and made him feel like a freshman (among the many other things he felt at that moment). When he looked down for the sake of not looking at Renji, he was surprised by the image display screen.
The camera focused automatically, but Ichigo hadn't been aiming and the frame cut out a bit of Renji's left side. While it would have annoyed the hell out of him any other time, in this shot he had other things to look at. Like the way Renji's black shirt and pants blended with the couch and made the tacky watch and ring on Renji's right hand stand out, the strong muscle of his right forearm prominent. The white belt and silver headband also did wonders for the contrast Ichigo kept seeking in Renji. His skin toned by the light filtering from the window, his collarbones, his tattoos, even the ones on his neck that Ichigo loved so much-somehow he got them all in that one spontaneous shot.
You do look good like that, he thought as he inspected the picture further. Renji's expression showed nothing but his attitude, which was kind of the point. His upper lip was quirked up so his mouth was just barely open, just enough to make Ichigo remember everything Renji had done two night ago-the way he had kissed and nipped and teased and sucked, or the way he'd whispered, fuck-and his head was tilted back, like he wondered what the hell Ichigo was doing there. For all he knew, Renji did own the damn place.
He knew just by the look on Renji's face what he would call this piece and where he would put it. "Sin", between "Passion" and "Fire". He could paint the walls red or something. Oh, that's actually pretty good.
After he'd seen his walls (well, a wall, and two others half its size enclosing the space, making a small "room"), he could envision pretty much anything. Yeah, if he painted it red it would complement the black and white drawings and get his point across. Who cared if it would be too literal? He wanted to get in people's faces.
"Is it really good?" Renji's voice rose.
Ichigo looked up, jarred out of his thoughts. "Huh?"
Renji motioned toward Ichigo's hands. "The picture. You've been looking at it for a long time." He didn't sound very accusatory, but Ichigo still felt like he'd been caught doing something wrong.
"If it's that good," Renji continued, "maybe we should take a break. I think the couch is big enough for both of us."
Instead of scooting over and making room for Ichigo, Renji just spread his legs wider and patted the backrest so Ichigo would come. As if that weren't annoying enough, he finally took his shades and headband off, like he was the one to decide when the session was over. It was just so typical of him that every rational part of Ichigo's brain told him to stand up to Renji.
Yet there he was, settling next to Renji on the couch, and then on Renji within seconds, kissing him hungrily. It still amazed him that he could take great pictures like that and then actually get to touch his subject. It still amazed him that just the photos of Renji got him hot and bothered in a matter of minutes.
Not that Renji himself was doing a bad job at that. The moment Ichigo straddled him, Renji opened Ichigo's mouth and darted his tongue in, sweeping over his lips and tongue and leaving a tingling sensation no matter what he did. When he started sucking on Ichigo's tongue, well, Ichigo thought it was pretty lucky that they hadn't kissed before he'd taken the pictures, because this? He couldn't imagine stopping.
He vaguely felt Renji's hands move over his body, and jolted when they settled on his ass and pulled him toward Renji's hot body. When their groins grinded together Ichigo took a sharp breath, his hands tightening around Renji's braids subconsciously. He wanted to pull them, wanted Renji to toss his head back so he could suck on the very edge of the tattoo on Renji's neck, but pulling his shirts off seemed more important.
He got the black one off (thankfully, Renji had taken off his watch at some point so the fabric didn't catch on it, but he left his ring on and it made Ichigo shudder), but by the time he got to the undershirt Renji yanked him forward again while bucking his own hips up, and god, then he started talking. "I wanna fuck you like this," he whispered into Ichigo's ear. "I want you to ride me while we're sitting up and I can feel you move."
Ichigo uttered a curse, and nearly ripped Renji's shirt off before removing his own tank. Finally they were pressed together, close enough to fuck and for him to rub against Renji's torso, to grab hold of Renji's shoulder with one hand and the backrest with the other. Once he felt steady enough, he closed his mouth over the crook of Renji's neck, feeling Renji's chest vibrate when he made a small appreciative sound.
Renji's hands moved from his ass up his back, scratching his skin and kneading his muscles. He was still pulling him forward, like they couldn't be close enough. Ichigo was reminded of the main objective-of what Renji had said he wanted-only when Renji's ring scraped his back, the harsh cold of the metal against his skin making him moan.
He wanted it-he wanted Renji inside him, he wanted to move. He needed him so much it was hard to breathe, and he had to stop. With amazing effort, he pulled away from Renji's insanely hot skin, and cursed.
"I don't keep condoms here," he said, his voice too unsteady for his tastes.
He'd left everything in the living room, and while he knew he'd have to get up anyway to get rid of his pants, right then the thought was unbearable. Renji lifted his hand and buried his fingers in Ichigo's hair, tugging on it none too gently so Ichigo would look him in the eye. It was crazy, the shock that touch sent down his body. Once he did look into Renji's eyes-dark, heavy-lidded, sexy as hell-it was hard to breathe again.
Renji still didn't let go of his hair when he said, "I brought some condoms and lube in my bag."
Ichigo let out a breathy chuckle. "You planned this?"
"I'm always prepared when it comes to you," Renji replied, a glint of amusement in his eyes, before he ducked his head and nipped Ichigo's lower lip, soft, a contrast to his hold on Ichigo's hair. Like a promise for more.
Suddenly, getting up to get rid of his pants didn't seem half as painful as not fucking in the next five minutes. He kissed Renji again, because he had to, but knew to stop before he lost his resolve to move away.
Finally, he managed to get his feet on the ground, and even stood up somewhat stably. He stuck his thumbs under the waistband of his sweatpants and his underwear, careful to keep his eyes locked on Renji.
The far-gone look was replaced by intense interest when Renji looked at his body, and to be honest, given Renji's body-muscles and tattoos and places to look at for hours-Ichigo couldn't really think of a reason to be given those kinds of looks. It didn't really matter to him right then. In other moments it might matter, perhaps, like when Renji dared him to stay put and kissed his way down his torso, paid attention to every part of him until Ichigo couldn't stay put anymore.
Not that time. Once he was finally naked, his only objective was to get Renji in that state too. Though, really, with Renji staring at him and sucking his lip into his mouth like that, the only thing Ichigo could do was kiss him again, hard, while he pulled Renji's belt off. In a startling display of usefulness, Renji took off his pants all by himself.
Ichigo leaned down to pick up the condoms and lubricant in Renji's bag, and barely managed to get a hold of them before Renji pulled him into his lap again and ran his hands all over his sides, his chest, grazing his nipples with his nails and then the ring (bastard must have caught on).
When he reached Ichigo's hands, he grabbed his wrists firmly and pulled them up, silently asking Ichigo to wrap them around his shoulders. He did it, and ran his tongue over Renji's neck, biting down on the spot under his ear, because that was probably one thing Ichigo would never get tired of.
Renji was loud by then, rewarding Ichigo for anything he did and turning him on impossibly more, but Ichigo still heard exactly when Renji opened the cap of the lube. He couldn't help the shiver that went through him, anticipation and want overriding everything else.
He lifted himself to his knees and Renji caught up without skipping a beat, leaning fully on the backrest so Ichigo would still be able to reach his neck. Renji's clean hand (with the goddamn ring) brushed over his ass, parting his cheeks and letting the other hand-slick, Ichigo felt, and shuddered again-circle his entrance. He teased him for a few more torturous seconds, making him hiss and strain to stay upright, before suddenly he thrust two fingers in. Ichigo cried out, blinded for a second and digging his fingernails into Renji's shoulders, and fuck, fuck, fuck.
He squeezed his eyes shut, and Renji gave him only a moment to take a deep breath and grasp all the sensations running through him, before he pulled his fingers out, and then pushed back in. It was less of a shock this time, and god, Renji was going fast.
It didn't really matter-they fucked on an almost daily basis, it wasn't like Ichigo needed a lot of time to relax for it-but with the way he was going, Ichigo could already feel the pleasure building up deep inside him. He understood the urgency the moment he felt just how hard Renji was.
It didn't take long for Ichigo to start pushing back against Renji's fingers, moaning at the feeling of him inside, of the way he moved, of… fuck, he was losing it. He pulled back until his mouth was directly above Renji's ear, and considered telling him, telling him how much he wanted him and how good he felt and to fuck him already, fuck him just as fast and hard as he was with his fingers, but he couldn't trust his words right then. Instead of saying anything, he bit down, hard, on Renji's neck, and hoped it would move things along.
The sound Renji made was its own reward. Thankfully, he also got his point across. Renji's fingers slipped out of him, and Ichigo was startled to realize he was shaking. He felt Renji move-rolling the condom on and slicking his cock up-but honestly, all Ichigo could focus on was his heartbeat hammering in his ears, and on maybe trying to calm down so it wouldn't be over too quickly.
He managed to catch his breath, slightly, before he felt the head of Renji's cock at his entrance. They both froze for a moment, gathering some self-control before it would all be blown to hell.
He couldn't stand it.
"Go," he whispered, and Renji didn't waste a second before bucking his hips up, so fast it stung, so fast Ichigo moaned and shook again and god, it felt so good. He was kind of lost for a few moments, his chest pressed against Renji, gasping and cursing and groaning while Renji fucked him, cursing too in that voice of his, whispering Ichigo.
All of a sudden it wasn't enough. He tightened his legs around Renji's thighs and bore down when Renji thrust up, and they both immediately cried out at the sensation, at how deep he was, at how amazing that felt.
They were synced now, and if Renji wanted to feel Ichigo move, well, he got his wish-Ichigo felt restless, he slid his hands from Renji's shoulders to his sides, to his hair, moved his mouth from his neck to his ear, and finally moved his hips up and down, taking Renji as best as he could and losing it, little by little.
His body jerked suddenly when Renji's ring pressed into his shoulder, and really, he just needed to… he leaned close to Renji's ear again and whispered, "Put your ring finger in my mouth."
He was rewarded by a sharp slam of Renji's hips, and then he actually did put his finger in Ichigo's mouth, and oh, fuck. The shock of metal against his tongue made Ichigo gasp and jerk in Renji's grasp again, somehow intensifying everything else. It must have been doing something for Renji too, because when Ichigo closed his teeth around the ring and sucked on his finger, Renji growled right into his ear, a combination of fuck, Ichigo, and yeah, keep doing that.
For some reason the encouragement from Renji really went a long way, and before Ichigo even knew it, he was riding him harder, one hand on his arm for balance, probably leaving bruises on it, and the other buried in his hair.
Renji was right there with him, his free hand starting to move from Ichigo's ass to his hip, and then he muttered to him, "You ready?"
Ichigo moaned around Renji's finger, so ready he could barely think, could barely see. And then his mouth was free and Renji's fingers wrapped around his cock, somehow, and he really lost it. His eyes screwed shut and he could feel every muscle in his body clench when he was thrown over the edge, violently, with Renji still fucking him like he couldn't stop himself.
Renji came only a few seconds after him, and for a full minute, they stayed just like that, kind of holding each other and mostly refocusing on breathing normally.
That was a good one.
"That was a good one," Renji mumbled, and Ichigo nodded, chuckling. He tried to pull back and kiss Renji, because it felt right, but when he tried to move he felt uncomfortably sticky, which prompted him to just get off the couch. Fortunately, his muscles cooperated.
Renji already knew where to toss the condom and wipe his hands and stomach, so Ichigo didn't say anything before he stumbled to his bathroom and washed up quickly. When he padded back into the studio, Renji had his pants back on (Ichigo did not feel dissatisfaction).
He was sitting on the armrest of the couch and staring at his desk. Yeah, Ichigo should probably clean the couch before either of them would sit on it rather than the armrest. As for the staring, well, he chalked that up to Renji's endless fascination with the magical desk.
Ichigo looked around the room to check if there was anything else to clean up or cleanse. The desk had passed his inspection-and his heart sank when he realized the self-timer camera was working in full swing, and had been ever since Renji had come in.
"Shit," was all he could say, because shit. Renji perked up a bit and looked at him curiously, and then followed his eyes and ended up staring at the camera too. It was clicking. Innocently. Shit.
Of course, worse came to worst, because then Renji said, "Can I keep the pictures?"
Which just… "No." He'd never intended to take that kind of picture of himself. Renji, sure, plenty of times, but not with him in the frame. That was just weird.
Renji was still trying to convince him. "Ichigo, you have a million pictures of me on your hard drive, why can't I keep a few of you?"
Because I'm naked didn't seem like a good excuse, nor was because it's indecent. Horrifyingly, he felt his resolve start to dissipate. Must have been the good fuck. Plus, it wasn't like he'd use them for his project. And there was a limit to what Renji could do with them. He thought there was, anyway. And if he'd just finished his project, well, then on the off chance that signified the end of… them, then it would be wise not to delete the pictures just yet. And Renji deserved a reward for good behavior. The things I do for you.
Finally, Ichigo nodded. He walked over to the camera and ejected the memory card, handing it over to Renji as slowly as humanly possible. "Just make sure they don't leave your laptop," he finally said, giving Renji a serious glare.
He kind of forgot about the exchange for the next couple of days. Professor Zangetsu said the last piece was very good and would fit in nicely where Ichigo said he would put it. Ichigo also tried to figure out how one would go about painting college property, and prodded Professor Zangetsu to at least tell him whom he should ask.
Any thought about Renji breaking up with him once they were done with the six pieces (and sketchbook, since the day before) was all forgotten. It became an issue of how to get rid of him when Ichigo needed to work and mentally prepare for the biggest thing he'd ever put up for public viewing.
Yet when he did manage to get rid of him, he just felt weird and alone. Both had been usual and normal, before Renji had showed up. By then…
The accidental photo shoot resurfaced in the morning, a few days later. Ichigo woke up without Renji somewhere next to him, and was immediately, scarily unhappy. It was quite surprising, really. Ichigo was getting attached, and he wasn't sure if it suited him.
He got up to the morning ritual of coffee, followed by email checking and-holy fucking shit. It was surprising, to say the least, to turn on his laptop screen and see a picture of him and Renji, one of those pictures of him and Renji, and holy fucking shit.
Renji must have tinkered with his Photoshop, as the picture was cropped-above the chest, thankfully-and was in Grayscale mode (something like 'aw, he remembered' passed through Ichigo's head). And Ichigo knew exactly when that frame had been taken. It was the second after they'd come.
Ichigo's hand was buried in Renji's hair and clasped tight to the roots, tight enough for his arm muscles to flex and practically frame Renji's face. And oh, Renji's face. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open, his lips puffy. His neck was arched and his shoulders were drawn back so that his chest was visible, was incredible. The sweat only enhanced the contrast of the tattoos, made the lighting seem even more impressive.
He followed the tattoos on Renji's bicep with his eyes until he was looking at Renji's hand, his fingers that were digging into Ichigo's back. Just looking at the picture made Ichigo feel like Renji was right there with him again, scratching his back the way he liked.
Ichigo's shoulder blades made a fine contrast as well, and his hair was damp, sticking to the back of his neck and to his forehead. Renji's face was obscuring his so that mostly Ichigo's teeth showed, latched onto Renji's shoulder. His eyes were shut too, but not in pain, he looked like he was… savoring, and fuck if it wasn't weird to analyze a photo of himself. Fuck if they didn't look good like that.
The email itself only had one sentence. "Told you."
LAST PART!