Bleach [Zangetsu/Ichigo]
Title: The Pick-Up Lines From Hell
Author: Kiki midnightdiddle
Rating: PG
Warnings: Pick-up lines from hell. Beware.
Summary: Zangetsu + pick-up lines = annoyed!Ichigo
Author Notes: Response to nix__'s request: Ichigo/Zangetsu: Any scenario
Ichigo looked around him, stuck somewhere between distraught and annoyed. With a snort, annoyed won, and he crossed his arms. He was standing on the side of a building, and it was that building. Yes, that building. He was somewhere in his mind, and for the first time, neither his life nor his soul was at stake. Also, for the first time, the city of blocks wasn’t falling apart. It seemed as right as this could be, except that…he was there, staring at Ichigo.
Zangetsu’s hair shifted in the ever present breeze, and he raised his chin, sunglasses glinting in the light.
“Ichigo,” he said gruffly, and Ichigo flinched.
“What is it this time, old man?”
Zangetsu took a step towards the boy and his cloak shivered after him, frayed edges catching in the wind.
“Ichigo,” he repeated. “I want-” he paused, then continued on gamely. “I want to slay your soul.”
If there had been anyone else, they would have heard a pin drop. Hell, they would have heard anything drop. After a few moments of this thick, awkward silence, Ichigo responded as any intelligent adolescent shinigami would. He flipped.
“The hell? What are you getting at, old man?” He stumbled a few steps upwards on the side of the building, putting some more distance between him and his soul-slayer’s soul.
“Oh, damn,” Zangetsu said, sounding disheartened. Lines creased his face, and above his sunglasses, his eyebrows came together in a knot. “That was my best one, too. Well, let’s see…” He coughed, then spoke, again with that gruffy, grumbly voice. “Ichigo, I need to sheathe my sword. Sheathe,” he repeated, for emphasis.
“Oh my god,” Ichigo squawked, rising his arms protectively in front of him as Zangetsu stepped forward. “What are you doing?”
The man paused in his striding towards Ichigo and looked about him thoughtfully. After a moment he set one hand on his waist and raised the other one, gesturing around him flippantly.
“So here’s the thing. It gets kind of lonely here, especially at night. You know, the whole god-damned empty world thing taken into account. So, you know…” He trailed of with a suggestive leer and flirtatious wink, all of which, of course, were behind his dark sunglasses. Somehow, though the world may never know, Ichigo caught onto said leer and wink, and shuddered.
“So why am I here?” Ichigo asked, far too innocently. Zangetsu grinned a grin. He grinned a terrible grin, a thorny grin, a terrible thorny (and quite a bit horny) grin.
“To-” Zangetsu paused shiftily. “-talk. Of course. To talk.” Ichigo eyed him warily, but held his ground as the man continued up the side of the building.
“To talk. Right.” Ichigo closed his eyes for a moment, desperately thinking up topics, before he opened them again. What would Orihime say? Something polite, something polite… “Right. Umm, how are you?”
“Homosexual.”
“What?”
“Exceptional,” the man said blandly, “thank you.”
“Sure,” Ichigo said slowly. He swallowed tightly, and breathed out through his nose, scowling. “Look, I don’t know what you want to talk about. I don’t even know why I’m here. All I know is that you saying things, like you’re trying to pick me up or something.” He gave a nervous laugh and Zangetsu’s smile widened.
“Whatever gave you that idea?” the man asked mildly.
Ichigo scowled again and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Shut up. Look, old man, if you’re lonely, and really want to talk that bad, then you start.”
Zangetsu’s smile widened even more. The wind picked up, pulling wildly on their hair and the tattered edges of the man’s cloak. Ichigo slumped, shoulders drooping, and Zangetsu mimicked him, shoving his own hands into black pockets. “Alright, then,” he said slowly, “I’ll start.”
“Fine,” Ichigo spat, annoyed. Zangetsu gave a low chuckle, then opened his mouth.
“So, you come here often?”
"Gaaaaah!"
Author: Kiki midnightdiddle
Rating: PG
Warnings: Pick-up lines from hell. Beware.
Summary: Zangetsu + pick-up lines = annoyed!Ichigo
Author Notes: Response to nix__'s request: Ichigo/Zangetsu: Any scenario
Ichigo looked around him, stuck somewhere between distraught and annoyed. With a snort, annoyed won, and he crossed his arms. He was standing on the side of a building, and it was that building. Yes, that building. He was somewhere in his mind, and for the first time, neither his life nor his soul was at stake. Also, for the first time, the city of blocks wasn’t falling apart. It seemed as right as this could be, except that…he was there, staring at Ichigo.
Zangetsu’s hair shifted in the ever present breeze, and he raised his chin, sunglasses glinting in the light.
“Ichigo,” he said gruffly, and Ichigo flinched.
“What is it this time, old man?”
Zangetsu took a step towards the boy and his cloak shivered after him, frayed edges catching in the wind.
“Ichigo,” he repeated. “I want-” he paused, then continued on gamely. “I want to slay your soul.”
If there had been anyone else, they would have heard a pin drop. Hell, they would have heard anything drop. After a few moments of this thick, awkward silence, Ichigo responded as any intelligent adolescent shinigami would. He flipped.
“The hell? What are you getting at, old man?” He stumbled a few steps upwards on the side of the building, putting some more distance between him and his soul-slayer’s soul.
“Oh, damn,” Zangetsu said, sounding disheartened. Lines creased his face, and above his sunglasses, his eyebrows came together in a knot. “That was my best one, too. Well, let’s see…” He coughed, then spoke, again with that gruffy, grumbly voice. “Ichigo, I need to sheathe my sword. Sheathe,” he repeated, for emphasis.
“Oh my god,” Ichigo squawked, rising his arms protectively in front of him as Zangetsu stepped forward. “What are you doing?”
The man paused in his striding towards Ichigo and looked about him thoughtfully. After a moment he set one hand on his waist and raised the other one, gesturing around him flippantly.
“So here’s the thing. It gets kind of lonely here, especially at night. You know, the whole god-damned empty world thing taken into account. So, you know…” He trailed of with a suggestive leer and flirtatious wink, all of which, of course, were behind his dark sunglasses. Somehow, though the world may never know, Ichigo caught onto said leer and wink, and shuddered.
“So why am I here?” Ichigo asked, far too innocently. Zangetsu grinned a grin. He grinned a terrible grin, a thorny grin, a terrible thorny (and quite a bit horny) grin.
“To-” Zangetsu paused shiftily. “-talk. Of course. To talk.” Ichigo eyed him warily, but held his ground as the man continued up the side of the building.
“To talk. Right.” Ichigo closed his eyes for a moment, desperately thinking up topics, before he opened them again. What would Orihime say? Something polite, something polite… “Right. Umm, how are you?”
“Homosexual.”
“What?”
“Exceptional,” the man said blandly, “thank you.”
“Sure,” Ichigo said slowly. He swallowed tightly, and breathed out through his nose, scowling. “Look, I don’t know what you want to talk about. I don’t even know why I’m here. All I know is that you saying things, like you’re trying to pick me up or something.” He gave a nervous laugh and Zangetsu’s smile widened.
“Whatever gave you that idea?” the man asked mildly.
Ichigo scowled again and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Shut up. Look, old man, if you’re lonely, and really want to talk that bad, then you start.”
Zangetsu’s smile widened even more. The wind picked up, pulling wildly on their hair and the tattered edges of the man’s cloak. Ichigo slumped, shoulders drooping, and Zangetsu mimicked him, shoving his own hands into black pockets. “Alright, then,” he said slowly, “I’ll start.”
“Fine,” Ichigo spat, annoyed. Zangetsu gave a low chuckle, then opened his mouth.
“So, you come here often?”
"Gaaaaah!"