"And so the princess was saved by the knight who yadda yadda yadda, comes in with his valiant steed and slays the dragon - oh my god, that's so totally animal cruelty, man."
"We should get nature girl to come and defend a fairy tale."
"For the last time, you blue-headed creep, her name is Orihime."
"Well sorry for the flowery display I saw last Spring, huh?"
"That was an accident."
The sun was setting in the distance. Grimmjow threw a can into the dustbin, and wondered if this scene was going to repeat again and again.
Turns out he was right.
"Do you believe in fairy tales?"
"Uh, as much as the next guy, but I'm not totally geeky about them."
"Cool. They're unreal anyway." Ichigo threw the book to the side and looked up. "So anyway, I gotta go back for my family reunion back in Italy. Wanna go?"
"... Why Italy?"
"'Cause my dad's a hopeless cliched geek grown-up man."
"... Ew. What the hell."
"I know. I don't even know how I got to be here."
"'Cause you're studying here -"
"I mean how my dad actually married my mom and had me, dumbass."
"Yeesh, say so in the first place."
"So he believes in fairy tales?"
"Hm. That book was a present from him to me, yeah."
Bonds, Chapter 12
Knight In Shining Armor
His situation was real simple.
It was the equivalent of a knight in shining armor watching a dragon sleep and waiting for the danger to pass before he could save the princess.
If, only, the knight was a man dressed in a strange green cloak with a bucket hat and an uneven stubble spread across his face. Not exactly your 'shining armor' type.
Neither was the dragon.
Shiro snored loudly before turning heavily on his side, scratching his stomach as he did so. At a far corner of the room, Kisuke was too busy holding pepper spray in front of him and cowering in the face of a homicidal maniac sleeping on his fucking bed, sprawled all over his sheets that he folded this morning (Yoruichi enforced a very strict rule about cleaning up after himself) and just poised to strike.
Even though he was at least six feet away and well away from the radius of immediate bodily harm should the albino suddenly wake up and inflict a kick to his balls, he wasn't gonna take any chances. With Shiro, you never knew with the guy.
A sudden growl tore through the tension-thick air and Kisuke gripped his spray to the point his knuckles turned white.
Why the fuck was he here?
Why the hell did he feel the need to ask himself dumb questions?
Shut the fuck up, Kisuke; Shiro's whimpering.
Kisuke rolled his eyes. Great, now he was talking to himself -
Ha, yeah right -
"... -upid, dumb, Ichhhhigo," Shiro slurred sleepily, before giving a slight whimper (Kisuke's heart stopped at least three seconds) and rolling over on his other side, reaching out for something.
His hands hit the pillow and he grabbed it immediately. Kisuke watched, interested at the new development.
"D... Don't leave..."
Then Shiro took the pillow and threw it to the other side of the room, hitting the wall two inches away from Kisuke's face. The blond jumped out of his corner and scrambled to the other side, pepper spray flinging out of his grip. He immediately pounced for it, barely restraining from screaming like a little school girl.
Shiro snarled again, and before Kisuke could aim and fire, the albino curled up into himself. "Hate - perverted - bastard, stealing him -" Moments later, he went still.
Kisuke went still too, because it's like the fight in him left when Shiro spoke again, face twisted up into a peculliar expression.
Since when was Shiro ever sad?
"... It's not fair..."
As Shiro fell into a deeper sleep, Kisuke was left with the new information and his pepper spray to mull over. That is, before he noticed the spray was aimed at his face during the fumbling. His fingers automatically pressed the wee lil' button on top.
"AHHHH! MY EYES!"
And well, that was just Kisuke being Kisuke.
Great choice, Shiro.
By the time Grimmjow finished zipping up his fly and yawning as he stepped on the granite tiles of his deranged stalker's house, Ulquiorra was already raiding the kitchen for something to eat. He hadn't had his lunch yet.
Grimmjow casually raked a hand through his hair, going inside the kitchen when he called out "Where are you, Urkwee?" and got a grunt in response.
"What are you doing - Holy Mother of GOD."
Ulquiorra looked up from the counter where his recipe book lay and cocked an eyebrow. The green eyed man was sitting on a stool, legs spread and idly eating a banana. He popped the fruit out of his mouth after taking out a bite. When Grimmjow kept on staring, he glared.
"Grimmjow, why are you staring?"
"Holy Mother of GOD," Grimmjow said again, stuck on eternal replay as his eyes wandered all over those sexy legs which seemed to go for miles. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes irritably, shifting his seat while the fabric of his shorts went with the flow as he crossed his legs. Grimmjow just choked.
"I... What... Why are you wearing nothing but a t-shirt and shorts?" he asked, before realizing how incredibly dumb it sounded, even to him.
"Because I always wear a t-shirt and shorts in my own house?" Ulquiorra replied incredulously, then shook his head. "Don't ask moronic questions."
"But you look so fucking sexy in that," Grimmjow whined, approaching. Ulquiorra gritted his teeth, a red blush staining his cheeks.
"Will you cease with those absurd proclamations? Now stay away," he warned, but Grimmjow just grinned. Pervertedly. So Ulquiorra had to refrain from stabbing the man in the gut."Nevermind. And for your information, I changed so that I wouldn't get my good shirts dirty; I want to bake a cake."
Grimmjow felt his breath stop.
Oh, god. This is like a living fantasy. Thank you thank you thank you thank you, he shouted mentally to the heavens, and grinned broadly.
"Can I help?"
"You know how to cook?"
"Hell man, getting by college means needing few survival skills. Cooking is one of them that I'm good at."
"You need survival skills?" Ulquiorra repeated dryly, and Grimmjow stared.
"You, my friend, have been living under a fucking dark rock in some bottomless pit buried in an underground abyss somewhere. Have you ever eaten the food in the cafeteria there? It's fucking sentient, I swear!"
Ulquiorra gave him a funny look, and Grimmjow was already poised to shoot down any more retorts, but Ulquiorra shrugged last minute.
"... As long as you stay out of the way."
Grimmjow pumped his hand up in the air mentally, and outside his grin just got wider.
"You're eating a cake for lunch?" Grimmjow asked, taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. Ulquiorra took in the rest of his banana and swallowed it; Grimmjow's eyes following the movement. So maybe his pants got a little tighter.
At the question, Ulquiorra scowled. "No, I already had my lunch. This is dessert for dinner, later," Ulquiorra explained with a little impatience, zipping to the other side of the kitchen for some of the equipment.
"Cool. I'm staying over."
"What, you were going to leave?" Ulquiorra mock-pouted, ruined by the dry tone. Grimmjow simply grinned.
"Not for the world, baby. Now what cake are you making?"
"Double Helix Surprise," Ulquiorra said, and not long after that he blinked at the sudden silence. "Grimm -?"
"No. Fucking. Way," Grimmjow said, gaping. "How the - how the fuck do you know that's my favorite cake?"
Ulquiorra stared at the blue-haired man.
"But it is! Dude, it's like I found my soulmate."
At the word soulmate, Ulquiorra scowled. "And if you keep on giving strange, creepy comments like those, I'd have no hesitation to keep the cake away from you."
"One last thing," Ulquiorra added, as an afterthought. He punctured the words with a glare. "Do not try any funny business."
"What funny business?" Grimmjow asked innocently, and Ulquiorra snorted.
"Anything involving perverse intentions." Before Grimmjow could protest heavily to that, Ulquiorra pointed at a cupboard way up high there. "Now get the giant green bowl up there."
Grimmjow looked up, and even with his great height, he squinted. "Uh, even for someone as tall as I am, I doubt I'll be able to reach that."
"... You're hopeless. And we're of the same height."
"Hey!" Grimmjow said, furrowing his eyebrows. "I'm not the one who placed it way up there, now, did I? And I'm taller than you."
"By three to four inches; not much difference there now is it? And I don't usually bake," was Ulquiorra's simple explanation, and sighed. "Get me that stool."
"Now you want me to get a stool after banning me from groping your butt," Grimmjow complained, but handed over the stool anyway.
"Deal with it."
Ulquiorra placed the high stool beside the counter and hoisted himself up. A heartbeat later, he almost lost his balance - with his quick super mad reflex skills, Grimmjow immediately held fast on Ulquiorra's hips.
"Jeez, Ulqui, be a bit more careful!" the blue-haired man berated, before letting go immediately because after that Ulquiorra would think this and that and he wouldn't get the cake.
Damn you, cake. Making me suffer.
You must be getting crazy if you're talking to a cake that's not even here yet. Sexually frustrated? You know you want a piece of that ass - Holy Mother of GOD.
STFU, inner self. And what are you Holy-ing for - HOLY Mother of GOD.
Ulquiorra reached up for the bowl and his shirt rode up to expose.
The shorts slipped off a little bit and from his point of view, Grimmjow was getting a whole eyeful in the form of Ulquiorra's perfectly curved ass with the dimples there on that perfectly smooth skin and those fucking smooth hips and shit, Ulquiorra was arching his back and he is leaning towards me andfuck, shit, fuck, my pants are seriously getting tight and am I nosebleeding? FUCK.
Grimmjow threw himself at the sink, opened the tap and washed as if his life depended on it.
HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT.
Ulquiorra was giving him a funny look. He was already on the ground, bowl in hand. Grimmjow looked at him once, at the water, at the stool, at the bananas sitting idly in the basket at one corner taunting him, at the counter begging him to shove Ulquiorra over it and fuck his ass to oblivion, and back at the tap water still running.
"Why are you adding to my water bill?"
"Igottagobathroomkaythanksbai," Grimmjow said super-fast speed demon style and zipped out of the kitchen, heading for the bathroom. He slammed the door shut and groaned when he tried to cool himself down.
Calm down, Grimmy. Think happy thoughts.
Ulquiorra was panting. "P-Please, Grimmjow -"
I SAID HAPPY THOUGHTS.
Ulquiorra's mouth on his -
Happy, NON-perverted thoughts TY. What would Ulquiorra say if you ruined the cake, HUH?
Ulquiorra was over the counter - naked - back facing Grimmjow and his legs spread wide, mouth in a pout with cake batter rubbed into his skin everywhere. "You're so naughty, Grimmjow." He took some of the batter spread across his ass, and licked it off his fingers.
"Look what you've done to the cake."
Grimmjow grinded his teeth together, and looked down at his hard-on that was pressing so tightly against the fabric of his pants. It was gonna leave scars, man.
Look what you've done to my dick.
Ulquiorra watched as Grimmjow sped away, cocking an eyebrow. After the sound of the door slamming shut, Ulquiorra couldn't help but smirk.
He ran a finger on the waistband of his shorts and hummed as he reached out for the other ingredients.
Pshkchinggg - k-tak k-tak tak takkktakkkk
As the ball hit the other side of the court's fences, Ichigo began to grin triumphantly - before scowling at Aizen's pleasant smile.
"No freaking way. That was so an in, you freaking old man, don't you dare say it's an -"
"Out. You did say you were out of practice," Aizen said idly, as the game was done for the day. He strode up to the ball where it landed behind him. "Still, you were good. I hadn't had a workout like that in days."
"Stupid -" Ichigo mumbled some things under his breath, then glared peevishly at Aizen when he simply chuckled. "What? Rubbing it into my face? Old man."
"No, you resemble Shirosaki in more ways than you think. And I'm aging gracefully, or so I've been told."
"Whatever," Ichigo sulked, and then walked to where his things were, trying to cool himself down. He wouldn't admit it, but Aizen was damn good. He probably was in everything else.
You mean the bed...?
He rolled his eyes, reaching out for his bottle. Just as he was drinking, Aizen's arms came to rest heavily on his waist. He immediately choked, coughing. "I - what -"
"Sorry," Aizen said with laughter in his voice, and kissed the side of Ichigo's face in one sly, quick move. "But don't sulk, you'll get more wrinkles."
"I wasn't sulking! I was thinking of -" Ichigo cut himself off, and as if Aizen knew what Ichigo wanted to say, he laughed. "Shut up," he said, then sighed. "So where are we going next?"
"You're getting cleaned up, while I do the dinner preparations. You must be hungry, hmm?"
Hungry? Ichigo blinked before noticing that he really was. Wow. He blinked again.
"Is my godly presence affecting your sense for survival to eat?"
"Are you really this full of yourself, or are you just trying to compensate?" Ichigo asked before he could stop himself, and coughed, embarassed. "Don't do that."
"But it's amusing."
"Practically everything's amusing to you, isn't it?"
"Not the ones that aren't interesting."
"So I'm just interesting to you, then?"
"Of course. Snared my attention right away. Can't help but try win everything, hmm?"
"Say that to yourself, Mr. I'm-Good-In-Everything-So-Hah."
"How can you be so sure? You haven't seen me in bed."
"That's just you being modest, admit it. And I'm speaking on 'probable' terms."
"If you want to see for yourself, there's a private room for that in the next building."
"What has that got to do with - oh. OH." Ichigo groaned before covering his face when he was just too red. "I can't believe I just walked right into that!"
Aizen laughed softly. "I have that effect on people. And call that as payback for your blatant seducing earlier when we were playing," he said, again in an idle tone, so nonchalantly that Ichigo actually gawked at the man, even as they started walking towards the main lobby.
"You - I - what -" Ichigo shook his head a few times, then gaped again when it finally kicked in. "I was not trying to - whatever you implied earlier. No. No!"
It's called 'seducing', and Ichigo, you were.
WTF, STFU. You, no helping. GO.
"You were running in your little shorts around there, taunting me. Don't you dare tell me that was not seducing."
"Those were the only shorts I have and I was trying to dress properly!" Ichigo protested, voice getting higher and higher as he twitched.
"Oh, I'm sure," Aizen drawled sexily, and Ichigo would've done a number on him if he wasn't so attractive, or not to mention that they were already in the main lobby and everyone was just staring. Ichigo coughed, turning away.
Then he peered interestedly when a staff member came to greet them.
"Sir, should we prepare a room for your guest?"
To the best of his knowledge, Ichigo knew that the country club was a part of this giant resort not too far away from Karakura City, close to a beach. So the hotel rooms are right across the main club building. It was a grand place, and the scenery was really awesome - Ichigo generally avoided these places, though maybe he should consider vacationing here some time in the future.
And bring Shiro along. Havoc would do some good for the uptight staff in here. Seriously, what is up with the staring?
"No, I'll bring him up to the room myself."
The staff-dude visibly blinked and Ichigo had to wonder how exactly 'socially exclusive' Aizen was.
"Er... I - very well, sir."
Ichigo watched him go, and start whispering furiously to another girl, who simply blinked. Then she glared at him, which took Ichigo by surprise.
"Um, what? What the hell did I do?" Ichigo asked incredulously, weirded out even when he turned the corner with Aizen.
Man in question hid a devilish smirk before laughing softly.
Ichigo's response to that died as they went inside a ridiculously expensive-looking, lavishly-decorated hotel lobby, complete with high society ladies and gentlemen alike, dressed up for the occassion. Ichigo looked down on himself, and unconsciously blushed at his attire. He looked up at Aizen, who had a stone-face set dead on; a permanent smile.
"Right," Ichigo said, obviously uncomfortable, but Aizen just strode in fast and relentlessly Ichigo struggled to keep up. "Ai-Aizen, wait."
What the - what the hell is up with the staring? This is getting really creepy! Well, maybe it's because of the clothes and the hair, but their hawkish faces are seriously giving him the urge to smack. His hand was twitching.
They went inside an elevator and Aizen smoothly inserted a key inside the slot. Hmm. Ichigo watched idly as the elevator went up...
"Are we going to the top floor?"
"We went past the 30th floor."
"I'm afraid of heights."
The elevator door opened, and Aizen nonchalantly stepped out into a foyer, and not a hallway - two big double doors were in front of both of them, leading towards what was probably a very big, large suite. When Ichigo stepped inside, he immediately backed against the wall, staring at the gigantic window that was covering at least half the wall and two stories high, opposite the door, looking out into the distance.
The place was fucking huge.
He was all the way up here.
"Get settled in. You can use the bathroom inside the master bedroom - it's just to the right here. I'll go call for a reservation. A balcony table would be nice, or maybe even a private dinner here - Ichigo? Why are you pressed against the wall?"
"I was being serious when I said that I was afraid of heights." Ichigo pointed calmly at the window. "I can usually take it, but that window is fucking big, and we are 30 stories above from the ground. I can see my own apartment building from here. That is not a good sign. Maybe I'll panic. I have no idea."
Aizen's eyebrows shot up to disappear behind his hairline,"Ah," and he immediately strode towards the orange-haired boy. "Don't think about it. Look at me, Ichigo."
"Looking. At the window. It's big and all... Glassy."
Aizen sighed. "Come on, Ichigo. The room is right upstairs."
"Um. Window. 30 stories. Help?"
"Ichigo, we might need to tackle this fear of yours," Aizen said, formulating a plan in his head. He took out a slim cellphone with one hand while the other guided Ichigo up the stairs and into another set of double doors, stained darker than the earlier one. As the phone rang, he guided Ichigo to sit on the bed, and pushed him down to lay on it.
"Prepare a dinner for two in my room, would you?" Aizen immediately asked.
Ichigo suddenly sat up, glaring.
"... No. You're not getting any ideas."
The brown-haired man smirked.
"A perfect view below would be nice."
Ichigo tackled - or tried to, anyway. Aizen was like the Immovable Object. "Aizen -" And predictably enough, he was cut off with a searing kiss that shook him to the core. "You dumb - mmm. Don't do -"
"Yes, the usual."
"Ai - Aizen," Ichigo moaned, before squawking unelegantly when Aizen set up the details and started neglecting him. "What the - that's it!"
"It's done." Aizen threw the phone to the side and pushed Ichigo on the chest when he tried to protest again. Towering over the younger man, he immediately joined their mouths together. Ichigo moaned softly when Aizen moved from his mouth to his neck, sucking gently and simply going lower.
"You're - that's so unfair..."
"Relax. You won't even notice the sky scene beside us when you're too preoccupied looking at me." He stopped near the collarbone and gave a firm, hard kiss that left Ichigo breathless. He resisted the overwhelming urge to give in into his senses and just go all the way - instead, the man showed some modesty (Modesty. Hah.) and got up with fair ease, looking down at Ichigo.
Who was glaring at him with lidded eyes, hair spread haphazardly and clothes mussed to the point of 'I've just made out with a hot, sexy guy, thanks'.
"I'll take a bath first. Or do you want to join?"
The answer for that was a pillow to the face. Aizen laughed, and Ichigo just grumbled, watching him disappear into another door.
Then he looked up into the ceiling, worrying his bottom lip.
Who the fuck is he? I would've guessed by now, but I seriously haven't heard of the name Aizen... Still.
He's such a fucking weirdo, making me like him.
Then he chuckled.
I sound like Shiro.
Ichigo was always there.
And then Shiro immediately growled. This dream was supposed to be his dream - why the fuck could he see Aizen-perfect-bastard in here!? What the - his dreams aren't supposed to be nightmares. He's not supposed to feel sad in these.
Stupid, dumb Ichigo.
Then Aizen smiled at him secretively. Soon enough, he could smell something in the air that really wasn't quite right. He furrowed his eyebrows. Smells like -
His eyes widened, and at that moment in-dream Ichigo waved. What the - how the hell - how the fuck do they know about Ki? Real-life Ichigo, now in-dream Ichigo? ARGH! Can't anybody in here keep secrets?
Then he turned away.
Shiro whimpered, reaching a hand out to grab something, anything, maybe Ichigo because he was going away.
Then his hand closed over something and he threw, snarling.
"Ichigo! ARGH! I hate you! You fucking perverted old man bastard!"
He just going away farther.
"- stealing him away -"
Then he's gone. Shiro just stared, a pain going through him. It was true - everyone had everyone except -
"It's not fair..." he said to the dark, and there was nothing but silence. He grumbled. "Yeesh, so much for an epic nightmare -"
"AHHHH! MY EYES!"
"AHHHH!" Shiro screamed, taking everything around a two feet radius and throwing it at the dumbass who was screaming his ass off. What the - what the fuck!? Then he blinked, anger deflating immediately. "Ki? I mean, Kisuke? What the - where the - where the fuck - oh my GOD."
No wonder he smelled Ki everywhere.
He was in his freaking room. (He hasn't been in here before, but the wardrobe full of the same fashion-disaster outfits kinda gave it away.)
On his freaking bed.
With a bump on his head.
He immediately closed his eyes and counted to ten.
I am dreaming. I am dreaming. I am dreaming.
Kisuke groaned, and Shiro cursed.
I can't believe this! Of all the times I get to be in his bed I HAVE TO BE INJURED.
"What're you trying to do; make me deaf?" Kisuke asked wryly, getting up from his position on the floor with a hand on his face. Shiro got up - maybe a little too quick up from the bed, because his head started spinning - and stared curiosly at Kisuke.
"Why the hell are you covering your face?"
Kisuke swivelled around, before finally pointing on a spot on the floor.
"You sprayed yourself with pepper spray."
Even as he said it out loud, Shiro found that it still sounded incredibly -
"Don't. Even. Talk about it," Kisuke warned, waving a finger warningly. In the next second, he was trying to stumble onto the bathroom totally blind and with one hand reaching out for any obstaces. Shiro rolled his eyes and went up to the man, noticing that the guy tensed before un-tensing.
The movement made Shiro frown.
"Do you need any help?" he asked quietly, cocking his head to the side.
Kisuke looked surprised. "Er, yeah. That'll be great."
"Okay." Shiro just grabbed Kisuke's arm and kicked the door to the bathroom open ("This is Yoruichi's house, Shiro!").
The Holy Sink. With tap water. Kisuke went up to it and immediately set off to washing his stupidness away from his eyes that were still stinging. Shiro just stood in the doorway, keeping quiet. When Kisuke was finally done, he rounded up on the albino and glared.
Shiro jumped, then glared back. "Why the fuck are you glaring at me?"
"Spill. You've been keeping quiet about it but I wanna hear why you're so sad, Shiro," Kisuke said calmly, and immediately Shiro looked panicked.
"I am not sad," Shiro said nervously, trying to laugh it off. "That's bullshit!"
"This, is bullshit. Now spill."
"Why don't you just wash yourself some more and -"
"There's really nothing -"
"Urahara Kisuke," Shiro babbled, then bawled. "OKAY! OKAY! Why is it so wrong for me to be sad anyway! What the hell is wrong with you people! So I just fell in love and I can't get the guy SO WHAT?!"
Kisuke's eyes widened. He just probably stepped over a line not meant to be stepped on.
"And you're asking and everyone's asking and everybody already guessed and why does it have to be me," Shiro mumbled, suddenly looking really sad and shit, maybe Kisuke really shouldn't have asked and he went towards the albino who looked as if he wanted to start crying. "It's not fair that everyone's with everyone and I'm like the most fucking loneliest kid in this fucking sad place and -"
"That's not true," Kisuke said, realizing everything and trying not to smile.
"That's true and you know it. You practically hate me!" Shiro accused, pointing. Kisuke snorted.
"If I hated you, I would've left you to die in the rain, no matter how incredibly unoriginal that is."
"Yeah, that'll be a sad end for me," Shiro mused, and then scowled. "No changing the topic! And you better not tell anyone!"
"Does Ichigo know about this?"
"Yeah, and he's gone off to that pervertic STUPID bastard whose name I shall not mention because he makes me go hiss," Shiro hissed, and then growled. "SEE? Yeesh."
"So was that why you were throwing pillows in your sleep?"
There was a long, awkward pause and Shiro had more fire in his eyes but not much better. What the fuck, man - it wasn't right when Shiro was all morose and shit.
And promptly he told him that.
Shiro glared, but didn't really feel like it. "Whatever," he said moodily, slumping against the wall. "It wouldn't matter 'cause he'll never like me back."
"Just who is this guy? Anyone I know?"
Shiro answered too quick and fast. "Absolutely nu-uh."
"Want a kick in the balls?"
"No thanks," Kisuke said serenely, moving to shield his precious cargo. The seconds ticked by and Kisuke felt the pain going away more and more, and Shiro getting more and more quiet.
"You need to fix your clock -"
"Just who is this guy? And how did he do it?" Kisuke asked suspiciously, peering into Shiro at a close range that made him flush.
"Drop it. Nothing's gonna happen between us for sure; why are you so worried anyway?"
"Because I'm curious. What the hell did he do?"
"What's it to you?"
Kisuke kept quiet and Shiro sighed.
"Look, he called me cute, that's all." Kisuke gave him a funny look, and Shiro flushed darker. "Nobody's ever done that before!"
"Probably because you're so violent."
"Like I don't know that? Listen, just don't ask anymore, okay? I'm doomed not to get him, so don't remind me about it by talking about it."
"I never took you for a pessimistic person, Shiro," Kisuke said disapprovingly, and with that tutting tone Shiro couldn't help but jolt up from his slump.
"You gotta be fucking kidding me. Leave me alone to wallow in my own misery, why don't you?"
"Or maybe you've got to get out of that misery. Now stand up straight and I don't want you looking moody and depressed," Kisuke dictated, and Shiro growled.
"Then what the hell am I supposed to; seduce the guy?!"
"Well you might as well do it, right?"
"AND I WILL! Fuck you, Ki!" Growling, Shiro stalked over towards the guy and aimed a kick to the balls. Luckily Kisuke dodged before any bodily harm could be done. "BE A MAN!"
"Okay, okay, I get it. I was just trying to get you to stop frowning. At least you're being all violent again, just the way you are," Kisuke said, his serious face breaking off into a laugh at the end.
"Did I just wake up in some alternate stupidity?" Shiro asked calmly, and Kisuke blinked.
"Um, no. And about the guy - why don't I help you out with that?"
"Are you sure? Because this is like some whacked-out - whoah wait a minute WHAT the FUCK!?"
"The guy. You know, that you like. I'll hook you too up or something."
Shiro placed an 'X' sign right in front of him. "No. No. Double EN OH NO."
"Come on. Anyway, if you wanna get a guy to like you, you gotta like yourself first. I recall you saying you hate yourself."
"That was in the rain and I was sick and shivering like shit ass!"
And as if some godly intervention happened, Shiro suddenly sneezed.
"Are you sick?"
"I am - ACHOO! - not!"
"You're sick. What the fuck, Shiro, get back to bed. Ichigo's going to fucking kill me."
"I'm really not sick!" Shiro bellowed, grabbing Kisuke's arms and turning him to face the albino in a straight stare.
It took only three seconds for Shiro to sneeze.
"Wait! That's not - but I -"
"Get back into bed," Kisuke said sternly, steering the younger man into the soft, nice - wait, he was supposed to get away from the bed. Shiro protested, because mainly he couldn't take it when the man was so nice to him and not to mention this was Kisuke's bed and what if he started having wet dreams!?
Then blazed red. "Oh. My. God." He shook his head, then glared furiously. "I want to go back home; I can't stay here."
"All right, I'll take care of you for a little while but I'm not letting you go back unless you let me help you out with the mysterious guy of yours."
Shiro grinded his teeth.
"Why the hell!"
"Why the hell would you want to see a freak like me getting together with some dude!"
"Because I don't like seeing you sad," Kisuke said seriously, and Shiro blinked, hands going still. As soon as the serious expression settled in, though, Kisuke immediately wiped it off. "Get into bed, you albino!"
Shiro blinked, and just got inside the covers.
"I'll get some soup for you, for dinner.
Shiro nodded slowly.
"... Right. I'll be back. And settle down! Yeesh."
Shiro just stared as Kisuke turned and almost hit the wall trying to go out.
When it finally kicked in, Shiro buried his face into the pillow, embarassed.
Because I don't like
Seeing you sad.
"You dumb ass..." he mumbled, trying to keep the smile off his face. That was the nicest thing anyone but his family has ever said to him.
END. CHAPTER. TWELVE.
A/N: It's so... Crappy. Oh my god. TT I'm so sorry for letting you down, guys. D: I'm so not suited to this fanfiction business.
I'll edit it later. TT Seriously. so many things... aih... and i'm rushing through a lot. Dx thanks for the support, still, and the anonymous reviews which go WHY HAVEN'T YOU UPDATED, lol. running out of time, here.
thanks for reading.
and it's wholly my fault for not updating. i'm sorry guys. i'm falling back into my old habit of leaving things unfinished. you guys rock. i'll see you later.
have a nice day