He sighed complacently as he squeezed his face towel dry before halving and placing it gently atop his vivid orange hair. His other friend who was seated some distance away was silent and motionless.

"Ah… sensei really knows her stuff when it comes to onsen…"

Again, the other remained soundless.

"Heck, I'm curious, Ishida," the orange headed teen began, splashing more water to his companion as he raised his arms. "This is your first time joining school trips, right? What gives?"

True, this was indeed his first. Why did he not join the previous ones? There were many reasons, Ishida mused. He did not have the money to splurge on, or the time to stay idle for two days and a night, or simply because he did not enjoy such activities. Bathing, soaking his body in hot water… all could be done at home. Why spend so much for something mundane like that? But not this time; he had to give in because –

"Inoue-san," he deadpanned.


Ichigo returned to washing his neck, not really bothering to ask for more details. Knowing Orihime, he guessed the girl had probably bugged Ishida for an entire week, begging him to come along. They were already in high school after all; they had only a year left together before everybody got separated, pursuing their dreams. Somehow, Ichigo had a suspicion that Ishida would be a lot less available for reunions and casual meetings in the future, so yes… he did not bother telling Orihime to give the raven haired teen a breather when he caught her stalking the Quincy at the gents.

Of course their classmates were shocked – very – when Ishida handed in his participation form (signed by himself apparentl, since he said, "Father is unavailable.")

And then there was the room arrangement. Since their class was small (and so were the rooms available in the inn), they had to be split into pairs. Kengo and Mizuiro were one… and eventually every male classmate found their roommates save for Sado, Ichigo and Ishida. Ishida was not very popular no thanks to his cold and aloof personality and Ichigo suspected the Quincy would be left alone. So he himself took a back seat and see whether miracle happens – whether someone would ask Ishida to share a bunk with.

Of course, in Karakura High, things do not work that way.

Ichigo nodded significantly at Sado to which the latter reciprocated. The tall, bulky teen then told the teacher he would take a single room because of his size. Ishida blinked at the outcome and blinked another time out of reflex when Ichigo dangle a paper with both their names scribbled beside "Pair #6" in front of him.

And so, that was how he got stuck to the unsociable Ishida. Not in a regretful manner, just, he wished Ishida would at least speak when spoken to.

"Anyway, what do you want to do after this?"

It was already 9 p.m. and they were the only underage in the public bath. Surprisingly even Keigo and Mizuiro were nowhere in sight (they did say they wanted to soak until the guardian chase them out). If those loudmouths were here, there would be some chit-chatting going on to relieve tension and Ishida could join whenever he wished. Now, with no "entertainment" around, they would have no choice but to retire early for a good night sleep.

"Head back to the room and rest. We should be awake early tomorrow," Ishida said monotonously, brushing his bangs out of his forehead.

"I suppose so…"

It was not really fun…

They donned their black yukata and went straight to the room. Aside from small, pointless talk like, "How was the bath?" they were completely silent. How could it be this uncomfortable… they had been slaying Hollow side-by-side for a year already! Though when the buddy in question was Ishida Uryuu, Ichigo supposed entertainment could never be defined as distasteful jokes followed by raucous laughter in a rowdy crowd.

As they ascended the stairs however, they heard muffled whispers along the corridor. Curious, Ichigo sped up and the heads of his missing friends, Kengo and Mizuiro popped into view.

"Oi, you guys!" he greeted.

Both of them almost jumped out of their skin (Ishida prodded his glasses at their edginess, only to realise he had left them in his room) and seemed to be desperately hiding something behind their backs. Ichigo paused in front of them, scrutinising their features with a rather deep scowl.

"Hmm… something doesn't look right…"

Kengo barked and shuffled several steps back, "Haha… ha… what are you talking about, Ichigo? We're passing by –"

"Good evening, Ichigo!" Mizuiro intervened, one hand clasped firmly on the brunette's mouth. "Ah, see… we figured it might be a boring night for both of you since sensei doesn't allow parties and midnight outings so we brought this bag with us. It's actually a gift, you can keep it anyway."

And with a big grin, he held a moderately large paper bag to Ishida.

"Thank… you…"

"Well, we'll be off. Have fun and all the best, Ichigo!"

"Eh – oi, Mizuiro, Kengo!"

Just as quickly they entered their sight, they were out of it again.

"Those guys…" Ichigo grumbled, rubbing the nape of his neck. "That's probably their junk, Ishida. It's their idea of joke. Bin it somewhere…" and he continued muttering gibberish stuff, those which sounded like mild curses and such.

But Ishida did not want to pitch the bag so quickly.

Once inside, he switched the light on while Ichigo pounced on the heap of futon in the corner, spreading them out on the warm tatami. He squinted at the sudden glare of bright illumination and was about to tell Ishida to dim it a bit when he saw the black haired teen looking inside Mizuiro's bag.

"I told you to throw it away!"

"There's a letter for you."

True, Ishida managed to fish out a palm sized note from the bag with the number "15" scribbled hurriedly on the outside. The taller teen took it from the other and proceeded to reading it aloud, "Ichigo, this is a fun bag. It used to belong to Kengo's sister but she didn't want it and we thought it's best for the both of you –" and then, his voice trailed off as he read the rest of the letter mutedly.


Ichigo crumpled the paper in his fist. How could he read out loud "– since we sense something fishy going on in between you two. ('You're never this sensitive and caring with us, Ichigo!' was written horribly in Kengo's handwriting.) We know things are going to be stiff around you so we hope this game could break the ice! Have fun – be as loud as you want; we won't be back until 2 a.m."

"Those idiots…"

"There's something cubical in here… dice?"

"No – Ishida, give me the bag –"

"So it is a die after all… pretty big and heavy though, unlike the normal conventional ones."

Ishida fiddled with the thing in his palms, studying every facet – as one of the faces reflected light, Ichigo saw what was written on it and gawked in horror.

"I – Ishida… just wondering… how bad's your eyesight?"

"I can see without my glasses, thank you very much," he snapped, digging into the bag once more. Ichigo quickly snatched the die now lying morosely on the coffee table and held it behind his back. He felt he was going to sweat profusely from now on…

Ishida lied about his eyesight – Ichigo knew it was downright terrible or he would have seen the words "kiss" or "suck" or – he gulped – "fondle" and "tease" on the die.

"And there are things in this box," the Quincy commented, bringing it to his ear before shaking the content gingerly. "This is a really odd gift bag…"

Having enough of Ishida's blindness, Ichigo looked around the room. Spotting a pair of glasses perched neatly on the window sill, he dashed towards it.

"Oi, Ishida, your glasses!"

"What now?"

"Wear them and take a freaking good look at this!"

Ichigo plopped on the opposite end of the coffee table, waiting for his roommate to adjust himself to the new vision.

"Now look!"

He held both dice in front of Ishida and braced himself for an astonished cry or a shocked yelp… anything! But the other teen was uncannily quiet. Ichigo lowered the dice and found himself staring at the unruffled Ishida in befuddlement. He should be able to read now, shouldn't he? So he should know Mizuiro just gave him a set of kinky game!

Or maybe Ishida was just shocked beyond believe that he was given something like this from a fellow classmate!

Ichigo thought he could have some fun after all.

"Hey, Ishida…"

At the mention of his name, the black haired teen's focus darted to his friend. He said nothing though.

"Your first time receiving funky presents?"

Ishida's lips parted as if he was going to say something to retaliate, but his voice died. The edge of Ichigo's mouth curved into a sardonic smile.

"Since those idiots have gone through all the trouble giving you this, do you want to play? It's not like we're busy tonight either."

Ishida had this perplexed look… and Ichigo decided to go on a little further.

"It's not like anything bad's going to happen. We're not girls. Or don't you have the courage for things like this, Ishida?"

And it was Ishida's turn to have a small grin on his face. It might be forced, it might be faked, but no doubt there was a hint of amusement in that little gesture. "I thought the brave shinigami would back out of this."

If only they put their pride and awful taunting aside, they would notice how their sentences carry a tinge of uncertainty.

Ichigo set the coffee table aside and pulled the futon into the middle of the room – and as he did so, he confessed, "I'll have to say this though, this'll be my first time doing this sort of thing…"

Admitting his lack of experience was not a weakness. Ishida should have the maturity to understand it.

And he did.

"That makes two of us, then."

They sat on the futon, the dice in between them. For a whole minute, neither moved until Ichigo broke the daunting atmosphere with a simple but smart suggestion – they could start the game with Jan-Ken-Pon.

So, that was how Ichigo got to start first – he won with scissors over paper.

"All right… let's do this…"

Gritting his teeth, he scooped the large dice in both hands and tossed them lightly on the ground. He gulped when the result was revealed.


A die had "Tease" and the other "XXX".

Ichigo could not help but ask, "What on earth does that mean…"

"'XXX' is a wild card, apparently," Ishida replied calmly. The orange bristled teen looked up and saw another palm sized card being read by the other. "Rules, Kurosaki. Each round lasts for a minute. Players take turns to throw the dice after a round ends. The game ends when –"

At this moment, a faint tinge of pink crept on his face.

"What?" Ichigo asked brusquely.

"Uh… the game ends when… when someone… ejaculates."

Ichigo could have slapped himself there and then. Luckily, he reassured himself, the game was not going to last that long. He had a rather brilliant plan, oh yes he did. He was going to make Ishida forfeit the game. And luck was on his side. He had the first turn and he had the appropriate dice result to execute this plan.

He looked up again, this time squarely at Ishida and took in his slender form draped loosely in his black yukata.

At least it was Ishida…

Ichigo scooted closer to the other teen on his knees until their faces almost touch each other. Ishida seemed to be not breathing at all, betraying his composed, rigid his visage. So Ichigo, gently, pulled his friend into his arms so they would not have to look into each other's face.

It was more of a friendly hug anyway…

Just to make sure, Ichigo asked, "You aren't going to shoot me in the heart if things get out of control, are you?"

He half expected Ishida to remove his Quincy cross but instead, he heard a haughty mumble, "Scared for your life? Finally admitting you're useless in your human form?"

A vein bulged in Ichigo's temple. He huffed; Ishida meant business after all. He would get what he asked for then.

From his position, Ichigo nuzzled into the black bristles, blowing gently into Ishida's left ear as he let his front teeth grazed the soft lobe. Ishida released his breath (which he had held in for quite some time, Ichigo noted). He should be second guessing the rationale of his decision now… while Ichigo left open mouthed kisses along the side of his neck. Well, not true kisses, not in Ichigo's dictionary at least – he merely let his chipped lips touch the expanse of Ishida's skin. The cottony collar of the yukata was disrupting the process and Ichigo pulled it down a shoulder, tasting more of the pale, smooth skin now offered freely. Holding Ishida firmly at his back, Ichigo slowly got up on a knee, using his larger frame to push his roommate lower… and lower… as he blew purposely at Ishida's Adam's apple… until the latter was lying on his back. He slid his left hand to the front of Ishida's robe, pulling and tugging at the loose knot holding the yukata together. Ichigo sharpened his senses though, there was no telling if the Quincy suddenly hated the idea of another male undressing him and decided to kill the fool – but nothing happened as the yukata parted. Not wanting to take risks, he caressed the sides of the lean figure, lingering purposely at the bony hips, wanting to direct Ishida's attention somewhere else. His mouth was still glued to Ishida's somewhat defined stomach and for the hell of it, he stuck his tongue out – the silky feel of a body fresh from the hot spring met his taste buds. Ishida tensed – the muscles hardened under Ichigo's teasing and his chest began to rise and fall at a rather rapid pace. Smirking against the flesh, Ichigo exhaled into the teen's navel – and then he had an idea.

Since the Quincy was already in this position, Ichigo wanted to let him be acquainted to the feeling of vulnerability. So he pulled the yukata off Ishida's midriff, exposing everything to his hazel eyes. Ichigo did not bother looking of course; what was so nice about Ishida's manhood, another male's – and had he not seen it once in the changing room just now?

But Ishida did not know. He would not know what Ichigo was thinking, what Ichigo was planning.

Ichigo quickly placed himself in between Ishida's limp legs and pushed his own knees outwards so they would force Ishida to part his thighs.

Having his intimate places bared to another, this would be the ultimate method to creating a sense of helplessness.

Ichigo wins.

"How's that, Ishida –"

And he froze mid-sentence. Ishida's eyes were wide, a frown above them and his mouth was half-opened, air drawn tightly in between the lips. Ichigo smirked – the game was in the bag – but that amount of satisfaction evaporated when he realised he could have just hurt his friend back then. He forgot, he was so hung up with winning the game…

"Ishida, are you okay? Sorry, I really am –"

"What… are you talking… about?"

Ishida slowly swept a mop of fringes from his face and propped himself up with his elbows. Ichigo instinctively helped re-adjust his yukata, pulling it back to the shoulders but another hand stopped him. The brilliant blue eyes bore into his brown ones as Ishida said, "Let it be. The game is not over."


"I said, the game is not over, Kurosaki. Move over there."

Obediently, Ichigo shifted a bit to allow more space for the other teen to maneuver himself on the futon. Scooping the dice, Ishida shake them lightly in his hands before dropping them –

"Tease" and "Front".

Once again, Ichigo let out a loud "Hah?" as he felt another weight settling beside him. "Front" sounded so indistinct… how was Ishida going to carry out his "mission"?

"This doesn't really make sense… front? We have 'Body' so 'Front' is redundant isn't it?"

At this, Ishida snorted and clasped tightly on Ichigo's thigh. "'Front', obviously, means this."

And he cupped Ichigo's crotch through the yukata.

"Oi – I – Ishida, that place's off limits!"

He tightened his grip around the thinner wrist, trying to get it to release him but Ishida held on to it so tightly it began to hurt.

"Damn it, Kurosaki; are you backing out of this game, then?"

He stilled and imagined a sour sneer accompanying the snide words… and slowly, he let both arms hang lifelessly from his shoulders. Ishida did not move for a while, letting the other collect himself before slowly palming the soft mound through the layer cotton. Ichigo's fists tightened on the futon as he felt Ishida's thin fingers tapping on his flaccid length. He could barely feel the pressure but when the other hand slipped into his yukata to tangle with his pubic hair, Ichigo hissed audibly. He never let anyone touch him there.

"1… 1 minute's over…" Ichigo reminded Ishida breathily.

The hand then ran lightly over the penis, lingering a while on the tip to circle the urethra before all sensations suddenly disappeared – Ishida pulled his hands back.

"This isn't as easy as I'd expect…"

Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose, all the while cursing Ishida's ability to think coherently just seconds from molesting a fellow classmate. His body was not excited but he could not deny the haze clouding his mind each time Ishida touched him in places he did not want be touched.

"Crowning the winner's going to take longer, Kurosaki."

"What are you so happy about?" the other retorted. "We aren't gay to begin with – I'm not going to be all excited when you touch me…"

That was what made the game more interesting… and since they were pulled too deep in this mess, there was no way there were going to retreat.

"Hurry up, it's your turn," Ishida snapped, handing the dice to his friend. Ichigo accepted them without much grace, throwing them the moment they were held in his hands.

Ishida clicked his tongue loudly.

Ichigo threw a "Lick" and "Front", much to both their dismay. Ishida was visibly fidgeting, balling the hem of his yukata in one fist while Ichigo felt his saliva evaporating far too quickly…

That was a joke, wasn't it?

"This has… this has obviously gotten too far, eh? You can leave the game now, Ishida –"

"Heh… I'll leave after you, Kurosaki."

The bottom of Ichigo's stomach vanished – what was Ishida thinking? This was almost as good as oral sex!

Ichigo swallowed thickly as he positioned himself between Ishida's legs. He pulled the yukata away until they pooled around Ishida's elbows, giving Ichigo a full view of the Quincy's privates. Uneasiness drowned the thinner teen's consciousness – Ichigo was really staring at him there.

"Uh…" Ichigo's started as though testing how loud he could speak, "do… do you want to sit up like this or lie down?"

"This is fine," and even Ishida was astonished at how calmly he sounded.

The orange headed finally lowered himself to Ishida's crotch, still uncertain as to what he had to do. But since the die said "Lick"… that was exactly what he had to do, right? Cautiously, he allowed the tip of his tongue to touch the very end of Ishida's member.

No reaction.

He repeated his action, this time letting his slick muscle swirled on the small opening that was Ishida's urethra. Then he expanded his territory, licking around the head, prodding at places he thought would give pleasure. Ishida was as silent as ever and Ichigo sighed inwardly; this was not going to work. Daring to go further (his pride was at stake after all) he ran his tongue along the shaft, halting just above the ball. Up and down he went, willing it to gain some hardness… and Ishida was breathing heavily above him. Ichigo reckoned a minute was going to pass so he let his tongue slide beneath Ishida's scrotum, orally caressing the flesh – and a strangled moan slipped out of the Quincy's mouth.

Taken aback, Ichigo straightened up and wiped his chin, when in fact he was wiping his tongue clean on the sleeve of his yukata. The teen before him had a nice shade of red on his visage and there were bite marks on his bottom lips. Even Ichigo was curious – how could that half-assedly done ministration possibly pleasure anyone? So he glanced down and quirked a brow.

"Is this a grade one erection?"

"Speak for yourself," Ishida spat, reaching for the dice. He did not bother shaking them, throwing them grumpily on the futon like Ichigo had… and groaned, cursing his luck. "'Suck'… 'XXX'?"

He shot a reproachful glare at the orange head.

"What? It's not my fault you get this sort of throw!"

His jaws set, Ishida finally removed his glasses and set them neatly on the coffee table. Somehow his sapphire orbs penetrating right into Ichigo's brownish ones without a thin layer of lens were causing his pulse to rise… the tension was definitely building…

Ichigo could not believe he was embarrassed by a simple look from his combat partner, his classmate.

"Lie down," Ishida ordered curtly, coming to his four as he said so. Whether he was as nervous as Ichigo or impatient, he did not wait for the shinigami to recline on his back – pushing Ichigo's legs apart, he dug into the bare lower abdomen, sucking.

"Huh – I – Ishida – oi!"

Ishida was kind enough to support both his legs, for if Ichigo were to let them stand by themselves, he was certain they would crumble under their own weight. He was slightly intimidated by Ishida's courage – he had already descended to his inner thighs, sucking at the flesh. Those were going to leave marks, Ichigo mused, but as long as they were not visible to public view, he could put up with it, somewhat.

Then Ishida did the one thing he feared.

A hard suction was placed directly at the juncture of the base of his penis and his scrotum. Ichigo's loud gasp was buried beneath the soft thudding of his skull against the tatami when he threw his head back. He prayed Ishida would leave the rest of his manhood alone – and his prayers were answered – when Ishida lifted his legs and sucked somewhere Ichigo knew was very close to his entrance. This time, there were no bangs and thuds to hide his moan.

His legs quivered as Ishida lay them on the ground.

"There's a hope of winning this game after all, Kurosaki."

Still blurry from the experience, Ichigo glanced down and was shocked to find his shaft gaining a bit of rigidity – more than Ishida's.


Ishida had not even touched him properly!

"Whatever, I'm going to wrap this game up quickly," Ichigo muttered and flung the dice again. It was not exactly atrocious… "Suck" and "Body"…

For the first time in five minutes or so, he smirked. "I'm leaving hickeys on you, Ishida."

"Dare," the Quincy stressed on, his Celtic cross dangling from his wrist, "and you're dead."

Ichigo did not heed the threat and pushed the smaller frame roughly towards gravity, pinning Ishida down by the shoulders. "You don't want people to see them, don't unbutton your shirt or undo your tie in school."

And with that, Ichigo laid animalistic sucks on the crook of Ishida's neck, in between the base of his neck and his shoulder, between his collarbone, on his chest by the pentacle-shaped scar… down to his navel and –

A short groan escaped the Quincy when Ichigo sucked generously at the head of his penis. Blood rushed towards the southern area of his body, flooding it with sensitivity as Ichigo got his revenge, sucking irreverently along the hardening shaft. Ishida unknowingly fidgeted, pulling himself away from the other teen – and it was not the brightest thing to do. His penis was accidentally shoved into Ichigo's coincidentally open oral cavity, and with the tongue sliding on the underside and the teeth clashing against the foreskin, Ishida's flailing leg kicked Ichigo squarely in the chest.

Spurting and coughing, Ichigo fought hard to get air into his lungs while Ishida gathered his yukata around his pelvic region. He watched the orange bristled teen from afar, panting.

"Damn it, Ishida," the shinigami choked, "what did I do…"

Flustered by his actions, Ishida said nothing in defense. The game had gone far enough… he wanted Ichigo to say, "Okay, that's it, I'm through with this," or even "I quit". Yes, the quicker he said it the better. Then they could go back to sleep and acted as if nothing queer had happened when the sun rise tomorrow.

"In that case, it's your turn… throw the bloody dice, Ishida."

There goes his hope.

The next mission was "Lick" and "Nipples". That was not so difficult… so Ishida threw another scowl at the other teen.

"What's that for?" Ichigo half-yelled, subconsciously tugging at his robes. Ishida crawled over and slapped both hands on his shoulders, shocking him. Who knew the Quincy could deliver such an effect…

"Remove your clothes already. It's pointless having it on –"

"Yeah, why don't you get naked first?"

Ichigo stared at his friend incredulously. Ishida certainly had the gall to order him around… did someone spike his green tea during dinner or what?

With one swift flick, half of the yukata that was draping over Ichigo's shoulder fell back in a pool on the ground – and Ishida latched his mouth around the latter's areole.

"Crap – give me some warning – unh… damn…"

Ishida's attack was relentless. His tongue swept over the bud over and over again in continual, powerful strokes. Ichigo could feel wetness slicking his nipple and it made him think of lurid, lecherous images Kengo sometimes talked about – why must he think of that this time? Did he have a fetish for nipples? A shot of electricity spread through his chest and his hardening knob presented a nice contrast to Ishida's velvety organ.

And the Quincy nibbled at it.

"Ghh – damn it, the hell?"

Leaving the glistening bud, Ishida shifted to another side, taking the dry nipple into his mouth and sensuously, coating it with saliva and heat. The electrical sensation that was initially burning his thoracic cavity now zoomed downwards… and his manhood hardened some more when it brushed against his yukata. A part of him wanted to ease the tension by tearing the robe away from his body but there was no way in hell he was stripping in front of Ishida.

Giving the nipple one last flick, Ishida distanced himself and scanned his handiwork. And he smirked.

"Tch, looked enough?" the orange haired teen growled. He never had much problem with eye contacts, but not this time; he felt more open and exposed with the prominent gaze on him, unwrapping him like a flimsily packed birthday present.

"My turn, right?" he asked grumpily as he took the dice again.

Ishida had yet to read what was written on the surfaces when he was suddenly knocked back roughly onto the futon with Ichigo pressing into him.

"Wha –"

And Ichigo's lips were all over his. The substitute shinigami was not gentle; he assaulted his roommate with much vigour, bumping into Ishida's nose each time he switched angle. Out of shock, the Quincy gaped into the kiss – but Ichigo took no notice. He pinched painfully at the shorter teen's chin, forcing him to tilt his face upwards, only to have his mouth plundered savagely by Ichigo. His tongue lay as idle as Ichigo's was rebellious, seeking every nook and corner of the orifice. He lay there helpless, saliva running down his lips and completely out of breath.

He was blacking out.

Maybe it was when Ichigo's fingers accidentally brushed against his own; maybe it was then that Ichigo realised how cold Ishida's fingers were… maybe that was when Ichigo broke contact and pushed himself off Ishida's chest, allowing the Quincy more room to breathe.

That was when he got back life; in darkness, he thought Ichigo was going to suffocate him.

"Are you okay?" the shinigami questioned, his hands steadying shaking arms. His warmth seeped into Ishida – and the latter welcomed it so much, his eyes slid close even as he just drew deeper breath into his air-deprived lungs. A distant mutter of apology was heard – Ishida did not bother acknowledging it – and a rough thumb was slowly caressing the edge of his bottom lip.

Cerulean eyes poured into Ichigo's concerned visage.

They kissed again.

Soft like silk, comforting like a summer drizzle, their tongues met. There were no battles for conquests of the other, only shy gestures.

"'Kiss' and 'XXX'," Ichigo said huskily before dipping once more for a final exchange.

The Quincy heaved himself up and searched for the dice that stood proudly on the tatami – and he averted his attention back to the other teen, "You could've kissed elsewhere."

Passing the dice to Ishida, Ichigo replied, "But it doesn't feel right if it's not a proper kiss. We're already touching each other like that…"

"We're not lovers. It doesn't matter."

And the cubes fell.

"You're losing it, Kurosaki. I'm not going to ejaculate if you don't take advantage of your dice results."

Ichigo exhaled slowly as Ishida descended to his chest again, laying wet kisses around his right nipple. Goosebumps were beginning to build on his arms and Ichigo held tightly at Ishida's shoulder, pulling him away.

"For example," the Quincy suddenly said, stopping Ichigo, "I got 'Kiss' and 'Nipple'. I don't have much choice, do I?" and he emphasized his point by pressing his closed lips directly on the stiffening bud. Ichigo's frown deepened and Ishida spoke again, "Using it to my own advantage…" Ishida parted his lips, clamping around the areole and purposely let the very tip of his tongue and teeth graze the nipple, "I will win this game."

All the little touches and kisses Ishida gave him had so far made him half-hardened, and would worsen if it continued at this rate. He forced himself to remember of terrible things; accidents, wars and even the daily weather report but Ishida gave him no chance; his lip noises were too tantalizing to ignore. He survived that round with little to no addition to his erection – and he sighed in relief.

"You're next," Ishida reminded, throwing the dice into Ichigo's lap.

He had not had really great combinations to dish out the cruelest stimulations and he was not expecting to get one now, but when the first die landed a "Fondle", Ichigo's heart skipped a beat. Ishida seemed to be thinking along the same line but was faring better at disguising his anxiety.

And Ichigo punched the air when the second die read "Front".

"Better take your yukata off, Ishida; you don't want to stain it."

The Quincy threw another death glare across the room but did not outwardly object the suggestion. Now naked, flushed and with a half-erect cock apparent between his legs, he got to his knees with his thighs slightly apart.

Ichigo was however, stunned and surprised that he was deeply rooted to the spot, his vision fixated on the view before him.

Ishida slouched a bit, subconsciously trying to hide his privates with a hand and hissed, "Stop dawdling, Kurosaki. Get it over with."

If Ishida was not wincing with every approaching step, Ichigo would have taunted him some more.

But that was cruel, and this was only a game…

The shinigami knelt in front of Ishida, taking hold of the hand that was blocking his view on the manhood and slowly coaxed it away. It flew to Ichigo's shoulder – and as if he was done mentally preparing himself for the worst, Ishida whispered, "Do it."

Ichigo swallowed thickly.

He placed a palm on Ishida's thigh, close to his rear and felt the smaller frame shudder slightly. Rubbing slow circles on the underside of the thigh, he held the side of Ishida's hip, holding him still, securing him. And when he was shaking no more, Ichigo proceeded to running his hand against the smooth, soft skin of Ishida's inner thigh… and the trembling returned. Must be the anticipation… and feeling generous (and time was ticking by), he cupped Ishida's testicle. The gasp turned into delectable, restrained moans when he squeezed at the flesh, feeling it tightening once in a while in his grasp. Ishida's skin was sweaty by the time his fingers traveled upwards, pumping the length in a tortuously slow pace. Slow, but enough to draw hisses from the Quincy. And when Ichigo took the head, Ishida's clinch on his shoulder deepened… and when he pinched the foreskin tightly, they both cried; Ishida in pleasure and numbing pain, Ichigo in definite agony (angry scratches adorning his skin).

Pre-cum dribbled down the member and Ichigo collected it with his fingers, coating the rigid shaft with it. As cold air blew on the substance, drying it, Ishida was left panting labouriously – he was close… he hated to admit it, but he was close… and he knocked Ichigo's hand away with his knee when the shinigami's hand returned to his crotch.

"Enough," Ishida whizzed painfully, a hand on the ground for a crutch.

"Heh, you know what's coming if I…" Ichigo crept closer until his lips were almost touching Ishida's, "keep on… fondling –"

The shinigami was on his bum before he could even complete his jeering; the Quincy sure did have some strength left considering what condition he was in. Ichigo huffed, massaging his arm where Ishida had just landed a punch. Better keep quiet now than to have a Seele Schnider piercing his heart.

The dice were cast again. Ichigo really did not mind whatever combination the other teen would get; he just had to survive this round and then dish out the final "attack" – and he would be declared the victor.

His train of thoughts was interrupted when the words "Fondle" and "Body" greeted his eyes.


Ishida was inwardly grinning sadistically; finally, revenge realised. He reached for Ichigo, but the latter was not aware of his roommate's intention so he tried swatting the hand away.

Wrong move.

Ishida, again with a strength not known to Ichigo, grabbed the taller teen so suddenly that he lost balance and fell not-so-gracefully into Ishida's lap. Taking hold of the yukata's collar, he yanked it down and thus plunging Ichigo into the cold, night air.


"Payback, Kurosaki."

The Quincy leaned forward, his smooth front gluing nicely to Ichigo's battle-scarred back. Skin to skin with textures so different, the shinigami could not help but stilled at the contact. It sort of reminded him that Ishida was already naked.

A pair of lips latched onto the nape of his neck, two fingers tweaking his right nipple and a bony hand messing with his pubic hair. Ichigo had never felt more suffocated.

"You… you're going too far…"

"All's fair and square in a game, Kurosaki."

Doing what had been done to him just minutes ago, Ishida grabbed the base of Ichigo's cock and started pumping the erect shaft. But unlike the orange tousled teen, Ishida did not start slow. His pace was cruel and vigorous – so much that it began to hurt. Ichigo winced visibly when the hand crept to the tip and started squeezing. If he could guess, he would say the Quincy was trying to squeeze cum out of the rigid cock.

And Ishida would have if he did not just suddenly constrict his urethra with his thumb. It hurt worse the dry pumping – Ichigo chewed the insides of his cheek, wanting to bite back a threatening groan.

"What's wrong?" Ishida asked softly, blowing into his ear canal.

It was not asked out of concern; it was not exactly a mock either. But the more pressing matter was, Ishida Uryuu, a healthy 16-year-old male teenager, was a disaster at masturbating, Ichigo could conclude. Not that he would complain… the way it is, Ichigo would have sailed out of this round with ease. Might be a little bit painful… but he could bear with it.

"Don't space out on me, Kurosaki."

And a callous finger pad swirled around Ichigo's left nipple – a short gasp was elicited from the shinigami.

"Nice reaction," Ishida remarked, teasing the bud some more. "I know your left nipple is sensitive… you react more than when I touch the right one… and you get harder down there when I licked you here just now… do you remember that?"

The dirty talk… it was so…

"This is so unlike… you, ah… Ishida…"

"I got all your… pleasure points… mapped in my mind, Kurosaki. You're doomed."

This time, the pace was so much slower than before. It somehow became more… erotic to Ichigo. The way those thin fingers slide ever so slowly yet firmly from the tip of his erect manhood to the base… and to cup his balls gently, squeezing them… Ishida's moves were… almost loving. His eyes closed and he began surrendering his body to pleasure, letting the Quincy massage the head of his cock, fiddle with his swollen foreskin… deep in his middle, he felt the urge… the urge for release. Ishida was now stroking him with both hands. The warmth of his palms on his engorged sex… Ichigo never thought a guy could be doing something so pleasurable to his body. He panted and moaned, his breaths coming in short takes… he could feel something dribbling from his member –

"Time's up," Ishida stated so factually and he backed off in an instance.

Ichigo opened his eyes. Not only did the light sear into his eyes, the sudden lack of touch was so frustrating. How dare he be denied release? He was a healthy male teenager too!

"You're disgusting, Kurosaki…"

Ichigo blinked. There was no need to tell him that with such a venomous tone; he was not entirely immune to emotional taunts. But deep down, he would not deny Ishida's insult. Did he not enjoy the treatment he was receiving just now?

"We shouldn't have started this game."

Maybe Ishida was right. The second they decided to roll the dice might be the grievous mistake ever done in their teenage lives. But still…

"What? It's too late to say that you know!"

Ishida looked away with a troubled expression on his façade. Awkward… it was awkward…

"Look… if we quit this together, it'll still be a tie, right? So… do you want to continue?"

Somehow, quitting earlier sounded a lot easier… now, Ichigo was just as reluctant as the other teen to end it, not with two magnificent erections in between their legs. Never mind that though; they could finish it themselves in the toilet, separately. So what would the verdict be?

"Just… just hurry up and finish the game."

So be it.

And they thought the night could not get any worse.

"'Toy'… and… 'Back'…" Ichigo whispered. His neck twisted around to check on Ishida, and just as he expected, the raven haired Quincy was disturbed.

Allowing some peaceful moments for him, Ichigo dived for the box on the table; the box that rattled when Ishida shook it lightly not long ago. He took the lid off and gaped, again… Kengo's sister must have fancied doing kinky stuff to herself (or her partner). There were nipple clamps, feathers, candles, an oval-shaped thing ("A pincushion?" Ichigo thought) and a vibrating dildo.

Even Ishida was shocked at the array of playthings contained in the box.

"Uh… which do you want?" Ichigo asked hesitantly. He shut up at the cold glare Ishida shot him with.

But one of those things would be used on Ishida anyway…

Ichigo took another good look at the items. All were not suitable for "Back" except for the vibrating dildo. But he had not the chance to even retrieve it; Ishida rejected it with a resounding no.

"But that's the only –"

"I'll kill you if you use it."

What a difficult person to play with… so Ichigo took the oval-shaped thing – and was immediately surprised at how gel-like it felt in his hand. He prodded at it; just to make sure it did not just melt but found it to maintain its original oval shape.

Kneeling in front of a rather agitated Ishida, he clinched on both the Quincy's knees and said evenly, "Spread your legs."

Ishida started at the shameless command. His pupils dilated in possible shock and humiliation when the shinigami's stare fell squarely on him, and Ichigo spoke once more, "Or we can stop. Just say it."

If he said it, he would lose… right?

Gulping, Ishida slowly pull his legs apart… once again his proud cock stood erect against his lower abdomen, his opening a blushing pink.

Ichigo felt steam being emitted from his face.

Ishida's shaky breaths jarred Ichigo out of his stupor and he squeezed at the gel cushion again. Bringing it closer to the Quincy's entrance, he inhaled deeply and slowly, let the surface of the item brush against the tight ring. A hiss, louder than Ishida had ever allowed, and a tremendous shiver racked the dark haired teen. Ichigo pulled back, studying his friend's visage.

"Are you okay?"


Cold? Ishida must have meant the gel-like oval thing… it did feel cold in his palm, but… not enough to garner such exaggerated reaction.

"Does it feel… bad?" Ichigo asked again, to which he was not answered. "Stay still," he said, and with his free index finger, he pressed against the muscle, pulling it aside somewhat. Under the illumination, he glimpsed upon the smooth wall of Ishida's anus and felt more blood rushing to his brain. He should not think too much… he was doing this for a reason! Once again Ichigo brought the gel cushion to the hole and instead of a brief rub, he pressed it firmly on the opening.

"Ah – Kurosaki – hah…!"

Both of his hands immediately came to grip at Ichigo's, trying to stop the shinigami from abusing him with that icy item. However, Ichigo did not relent; the more Ishida pushed, the harder he pushed. The Quincy's hold on him was beginning to falter and Ichigo took the chance to slip the tip of his finger inside the other. Astounded, Ishida gasped at the intrusion - and as soon as Ichigo pulled the ring muscle apart to widen the anus, he slammed the tapered end of the cushion into Ishida.

Sheer cold flooded his senses – and Ishida cried at the sensation. The wall muscles clamped hard by reflex and soon, he was dripping just as much, if not more than Ichigo. He fought, oh yes he fought… stashing any thoughts of pleasure at the back of his head but Ichigo kept finding new spots to assault with the gel cushion.

His insides were warm that something mildly cooling like that tortuous thing could feel like ice. At least, that was what Ishida's hazy mind could figure. And with time, law of nature will cause the cushion to lose effectiveness; it would no longer feel cold.

True enough, Ishida was no longer fidgety and noisy and Ichigo half-heartedly wanted to ditch the toy and look for a new one. He would never forgive himself if he stopped now; the Quincy was really wet – both front and back. The copious amount of precum Ishida was leaking made Ichigo's insides all queasy. He had, after all, only seen his throughout his entire life. Knowing that it was he, the brash Kurosaki Ichigo who managed to bring Ishida to the height of pleasure, at least, high enough for him to go dripping all over, did make him feel something… Was it proud? Or was it a sick sort of smugness he had never experienced before?

Ichigo placed the gel cushion on the futon and was about to turn away for the box when Ishida suddenly caught his wrist. Looking at the half-lidded eyes, tormented, flushed face of the normally stoic and distant Quincy, Ichigo could not help but blush.

"Wait… hah… no toys…"

As collected as he could, Ichigo said, "Does that mean I win?"

The furious gaze from Ishida had lost much of its effect, especially when the Quincy had the gaze of wanton hunger for more stimulation. Ichigo would give… he felt compelled to satisfy the teen (and he would win, hah!) since it was him who reduced Ishida to this state in the first place.

"I… can't wait… Your fingers…"

Did Ishida just say…?


"Kuro… saki… hah… I'm close…"

Pretty vague, Ichigo thought, but good enough for him to understand what the Quincy wanted him to do. Gingerly he slipped his middle finger in – Ishida did not resist – but when it sank to the second section, the walls clamp around him.

"Ah – slow – slowly…"

"Don't be such a woman, Ishida," Ichigo snapped impatiently, grimacing at the slipperiness surrounding his finger. He forced it deeper up to his knuckle, and he stopped. "Don't say I'm not kind…"

Soon, the Quincy relaxed and there was not much resistance when Ichigo pulled in and out of the canal. Knowing this was not enough for the teen, Ichigo slipped in his index finger as well and pushed both his digits up to the knuckle. Of course, Ishida who did not expect that sudden increase in girth let out a short, sharp cry as his head sunk deeper into the pillow. Ichigo looked up for a quick check and almost got a nosebleed – the sweaty, lean, nude form of Ishida laying bare and vulnerable with a weeping cock begging to be touched –

Ichigo shook his head. Rules are rules; and he was only allowed to toy around with Ishida's entrance.

Suddenly, Ichigo felt a little bit adventurous. Ishida's shallow breathing and occasional moans were getting to him – a little bit of experiment would not hurt, eh?

When both his fingers were knuckle-deep, he curled them as much as he could, letting the finger pads rub against the slick wall of Ishida's rectum. If possible, Ishida was aroused even more; his cock twitched and was starting to dribble generously again. When Ichigo extracted his fingers, Ishida unknowingly raised his hips, wanting those fingers to touch him deep inside again. Too happy to oblige, the shinigami continued massaging the deepest spots he could reach, putting more pressure wherever the Quincy gave a guttural groan.

"Kuro… saki… hah… close… ah…"

Ishida certainly had a difficult body to please. Ichigo quickened his tempo, doing whatever naughty things that could be done to that area. He pulled his fingers out with they were still curved upwards (it made moving a little bit tricky, but still…), pushed them back in as hard as he could without tearing anything, stroking several sensitive spots he had located… and he did all those faster… and faster…

One clean, deep thrust and Ishida's back was arching – milky white substances shot rapidly out of the tip of his cock. Watching his roommate, classmate, partner-in-battle like this, Ichigo temporarily held his breath. He had to admit, the post-climatic Ishida was just as captivating.

So in the end, Ichigo won. Not that it mattered much…

Ishida offered to help settle Ichigo's "discomfort" but the latter quickly said no when he found out Ishida was going to use toys on him, just like how the shinigami employed that icy gel cushion on the other. So he left for the lavatory while Ishida cleaned up the room, making quick work of any stray bodily liquids spilled out of the futon. The toys were cleaned as thoroughly as possible (Ishida wanted to take them back to the school lab to sterilize them properly) and of course, now that they got themselves dirty, they decided to take a quick dip in the public bath.

And they were chased out of the water by the guardian for staying in too long…