Need You/ See You/ Find You/ Taste You/ Use You/ Scar You/ Fuck You/ Break You

[savior_n_black]

[ No one was home. Again. Somehow that pissed Ichigo off, in some strange way, but part of him was grateful, too. At this point, after Tatsuki, and Orihime had been out most days, Xion acting weird, and Rukia's general avoidance of him was grating on his nerves. So, it was probably for the best that no one was around.

He was irritated, still, even after getting a little bit of a workout from Madsen. She was an accomplished swordswoman, and no denying it. But, Ichigo was still stuck without a stronger partner to polish his skills against. That, too, irritated him. Hell, everything was irritating Ichigo today, and that irritated him too!

Where was Shiro? Not that I care, or anything. Only he did care. He wanted to see the pale bastard. He wanted to shout at him, shove him up against a wall, and maybe bite the stupid bastard's lip-- Stop thinking like that! You don't NEED that, damnitt. And that's just what he would want.
He was angry. He was angry Shiro had just backed down, not fought him. Angry that if it was so easy for him to just walk off and then not bother to even try to confront it for days--
That brought Ichigo up short again, and made him slam the door to his bedroom in a fit of pique. What did it matter if Shiro didn't try to crawl into bed with him? It didn't! It shouldn't. ...So why was Ichigo so pissed that the hollow was all but ignoring him?
He didn't bother checking his messages, or replying to any of his friend's equally pissy responses. After all, it wasn’t anybody’s business if he was angry. He couldn’t think of anything about him that was anyone else's business, actually, so he ignored the messages on his phone as he set it on his desk, and plopped down on the foot of his bed.

He sighed. Maybe the kitchen was the place to be right then, though he had no appetite. Usually he was hungry when he got home, so it made sense that Shiro might be watching T.V. where all the snacks were in easy reach. Right then, though, even knowing he’d probably missed dinner, the thought of eating actually made him feel a tiny bit sick. Maybe a shower, then. He was still in his bankai haroi, with Tensa Zangetsu sitting propped against the far side of his desk. Maybe he could use the bath to calm down...

Maybe he should have tried harder.

He couldn’t tell if the lump in his throat was anger again or some other orphaned emotion, but he did his best to swallow it as he stood up to get a change of clothes from his drawer, but he suddenly found he was incapable of doing anything except leaning against the wall, his head buried in the crook of his upraised arm.

Fuck.

The worst part was that he didn’t know who to blame for the fact that his insides had just been scooped out. Shiro shouldn’t have let me act like that—he should have stayed—why did I—is it really that easy for him? He was angry again, and he didn’t know where to direct it — Shiro, himself, everywhere or nowhere. And he was hot, burning up, sweaty from the fight...

Oh, who am I kidding?

He couldn’t move, because he didn’t know what he’d do if he did. Instead he stayed there, leaning against the wall until his body was shaking from the tension and the pressure, until he was sure he would collapse or yell or punch something. His hands were curling themselves into fists, his own part in the action completely involuntary.
And for someone as physically expressive of emotions as Ichigo, it's starting to take its toll. In disheveled bankai haori, he looked as if he had ran several marathons; sweaty, panting, hoarse.

I fucking miss him. The bastard.

Yet, it wasn't until that thought formed in his brain that Ichigo realized that the distant ache inside his stomach wasn't just that.
He was hard. Ridiculously hard. And had been for a while now.

...Fuck. ]

Comments

[savior_n_black]

[ Looping his arms around a neck, he used the leverage to get a leg over a hip, trembling in a way he would never have dreamed of doing elsewhere or for anyone other than the hollow. He would have felt oddly debased ... as it was, he had never had a very high opinion of himself and believed those of his nakama, whom he may have considered in a vaguely attractive light, deserved much better than to deal with this; with Ichigo's needs. They dealt with so much already.

But, Shiro could handle every twisted corner of Ichigo's mind, couldn't he? Somehow, that made this alright, and what's more; the hollow had even started displaying something akin to affection recently. Ichigo may not be that traditional of a guy, but whether he admitted to it, or not, deep down he was a romantic at heart.
It felt really nice to be held, too. Held, and touched, and the musky warmth of the hollow filling his nose was all becoming a very comforting combination for Ichigo. Warm, and content, Ichigo stayed where he was, but mumbled into Shiro's throat; ]

...I don't want you to hide, anymore.

[holeheart]

[The Hollow purrs contentedly in his throat, all fluff and love now that his lust is spent for now. More than anything, he wanted to be close. To touch and be touched.

For such a brave boy, Ichigo had more self esteem issues than most. Issues that made him feel like he was a burden, to everyone, but especially in a relationship. But this was Shiro's job, one of the things he arose to do. But also something he chose, because no one else could. And hey, even the tough monster had to admit.

Sometimes romanticism was nice. It was nice to just hold the other, to feel his heart beat and hear him breathe. It wasn't like being part of him again, but it was similar.

And better. Shiro didn't want to go back inside again, any more.]

Hrf... even if you tell me to go away...? [Half joking, half serious.]

[savior_n_black]

[ Ichigo put his hand on the other side of Shiro's neck, and slowly leans in, stopping only when he can feel his breath wash over white skin, then back onto his face and closes his eyes. The hand on Shiro's neck drifts up to touch the edge of the hollow's jaw. Coaxing Shiro's head around to look him in the eye, Ichigo pins his hollow with a guarded look. ]

I didn't tell you to hide earlier. And I wouldn't tell you to hide at all.

[ Without any other warning he pushes up and crushes their mouths together, wrapping his arms around Shiro's neck. Then he leans back on the mattress so that Shiro is tumbling down on top of him. He smiles victoriously, then his tongue is against those lips again; not pushing in but licking the swollen flesh, teasing at the seam. It feels wonderful, but only when Shiro parts his lips does he slide his tongue past sharp teeth, till it teases the hollow's warm, blue tongue too.
Gradually, and reluctantly, he did pull away enough to speak, but stayed close enough that when he canted his head just slightly to the side, his lips were brushing Shiro's cheek when he spoke; ]

Besides, you only listen to me when you feel like it.

[holeheart]

[Those liquid gold eyes just look somewhat blankly into Ichigo's amber ones, meeting them evenly and unshakingly. The kiss is warm and inviting, loving, gentle. They're even a little less terrible at it, now. Then he grins a bit]

But you did say it was something you wanted to figure out on your own... that you didn't want to fight me... [the grin fades into a bit of a guilty look] But I guess I could have at least stuck around. [their skin is close, close enough for Shiro's hair to tickle at Ichigo's face] Heh. It's true, isn't it. [he just smiles knowingly and wraps his arms around Ichigo closer, content to lie next to him, even if the sheets are gross]