A/N: OHMIGOD! HAPPY BIRTHDAY RENJI-KUN! ♥ I haven't written Bleach fic in absolutely forever. Yay for my Bleach OTP!
Urgh, I fail at fluff. Totally and utterly DX Enjoy anyway!
"No," hisses Ichigo, "No. No! Would you stop pu- Rukia! Get it off! Don't you d- " The substitute shinigami frantically pulls at the clothing being draped and laced up around him, but is no match for the three pairs of nimble hands darting over and across his person. "You can't make me do this. I'll kill you all. I'll - hey!"
Before he can begin fumbling against the ribbons he so desperately hates, he is being ushered out of the relative safety of Rukia's modest bedroom and into a throng of people. As he is pushed bodily through the doorframe, he mutters a few choice curses at his attackers and gives in, bowing his head in shame as he enters the party in his horribly pretty attire.
Rukia's living room is surprisingly spacious, and the tiny Kuchiki had certainly gone all out in her attempts to cover every inch of it in decoration: above their heads hung a large banner emblazoned with the words, 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY RENJI!', painted by Ikkaku and showered in glitter by Yumichika; the walls had been enthusiastically covered in numerous trails of paper chains by Yachiru and Momo; Shuuhei had – with Urahara's help - sourced dozens of brightly coloured helium balloons from the real world and brought them back to Soul Society, all of which were now bobbing happily against the ceiling; an impressive amount of ice sculptures sat, magnificent and dripping, around the room, brought into being by a rather begrudging Hitsugaya; and a huge, glistening chocolate cake baked by Izuru took pride of place on the coffee table.
Ichigo tugs nervously at the frills near his waist, hoping fervently that he could just sink into the carpet and die when he sees, out of the corner of his eye, Zaraki nudge an ever-serene Byakuya with his elbow and point at Ichigo, turning the noble an even paler shade of ivory than usual. Humiliated and spotting a shock of red hair, Ichigo trudges sullenly towards Renji, tapping him on the back when he reaches him and gesturing at his outfit with a grimace.
As Renji turns to look at the slightly shorter man, his face immediately contorts with suppressed laughter, eyes lighting up in aumsement. "Happy Birthday," mumbles Ichigo, cheeks flaming red, tapping his foot agitatedly against the floor.
"Thanks," snorts Renji, glee at Ichigo's misfortune barely contained. The substitute shinigami shoots him a glowering look, and - mustering every ounce of sombreness in him - Renji asks sincerely, "I appreciate the – um - effort, but exactly why are you dressed like that?"
Ichigo's disgruntled frown sags into a look of complete despair. "They," – he points accusingly at a beaming Matsumoto, a smirking Rukia and a sheepish Orihime – "said you would like it!" Renji gives him a clearly confused look, quirking his eyebrows, and Ichigo flushes – if possible – even redder. "You know: like it, like it."
Horrified comprehension spreads over Renji's face and he glances incredulously at the now snickering women grouped a safe distance away. He stares wide-eyed at Ichigo and breathes disbelievingly, "And you agreed?"
"No!" protests Ichigo, now a shade of vermillion to rival Renji's hair, "Of course not! They made me! There were three of them!" Renji looks sceptical, and Ichigo grumbles, "It wasn't fair…"
"Of course not," Renji grins, making Ichigo's scowl deepen, "but now that you are all trussed up, I can't exactly send you away like I hate their present (which is obviously what this is). That would be rude."
Ichigo scoffs. "I don't care! I am dragging you straight over there and making you tell those maniacs yourself that you absolutely do not like it when your boyfriend dresses in skirts: they wouldn't listen to me. I'm not having people thinking that we – y'know." He shoots a pointed look at Renji, only to see a familiar leer beginning to tug at the corners of the tall red-head's mouth. Letting his expression morph into one of revulsion, Ichigo whispers with horror, "Is this actually turning you on?"
With an innocent smile, Renji sings back, "No, no, not at all," then adds slowly, "although the thought of getting it off you really, really is." He flashes a wicked grin at Ichigo and raises one tattooed eyebrow, tilting his head nonchalantly towards the door. "Imagine all the ripping…"
Ichigo's eyes throw a look at Renji that clearly says, Oh, I see, and he smirks, "Well, we wouldn't want to be rude, now, would we?"
Renji shakes his head gravely. "No, we wouldn't."
Making sure all three of his dressers are looking in their direction, Ichigo very deliberately raises himself onto his tiptoes and kisses Renji lightly on the cheek, smiling coyly and fiddling with one of his ridiculous skirts as he slides his hand into Renji's. As the taller man discreetly opens the front door and makes a quiet show of allowing Ichigo to go first, the trio of onlookers watch the door close softly behind the couple with wide eyes.
Rukia works her mouth like a goldfish for a few seconds, before shrugging and observing, "He's certainly had a change of heart."
"It was only supposed to be a joke, wasn't it? Who would have thought?" Matsumoto adds cheerfully, turning happily away from her mildly disturbed companions in search of more sake.
Orihime just nods dumbly, gazing at the spot where the two had been standing before she is startled by Rukia patting her consolingly on the shoulder. "At least we know we got the best present, right?"
Review? For Renji, yes? I'll let you share the birthday cake XD