Abarai was a God-like figure as he stormed out of the shop, long red hair billowing after him. He was swearing and cursing Urahara's name, which was not an unusual occurrence in itself.
He was also shirtless. This was an unusual occurrence.
Jinta wished he could tear his eyes away, because he just knew that Urahara had entered the room and was watching him watch Abarai.
Abarai slammed the door shut after himself and Jinta cleared his throat, trying to ignore the heavy blush that coloured his cheeks, or the uncomfortable prickling that plagued his whole body. "Damn freeloader."
"My, my, you are growing up," Urahara murmured. Jinta scowled at him and returned to sorting out the sweets that no-one ever brought. He couldn't remember the last time they had a customer who believed Urahara's store was an innocent sweet shop.
"Don't know what you mean," Jinta said, even though he did. Urahara had been teasing him about this for months, ever since Abarai came back to the living world on a mission for Soul Society. He had taken up residence in Urahara's shop – begrudgingly – and, ever since, Jinta hadn't been able to get the Shinigami from his mind.
Urahara 'hmm'ed – Jinta hated it when he did that – and moved to sit behind the counter, fanning himself. Jinta never understood why he didn't just take off his stupid jacket and hat if he was that warm.
"How old are you, anyway?" Urahara finally asked, after watching Jinta for a few minutes.
Jinta turned and bombarded him with sweets. "Shouldn't you know?!" Urahara was, after all, the one who bloody created him.
"My memory's not what it used to be, you know." That was always Urahara's excuse these days. And he did seem to be forgetting things easily. Jinta didn't know how old Urahara was, but Yamamoto was insanely old and he was still fighting fit (even if he had retired).
"Bet you can just replace it with a new one," Jinta said, returning back to his sorting. He was getting too tall for all this work – some of the shelves were irritatingly low. Why couldn't Ururu do this? She was still short.
Urahara actually seemed to be contemplating his suggestion. Jinta rolled his eyes – the man was clinically insane. How did Tessai and Yoruichi put up with him?
Hell, even Shinji looked like he wanted to beat him over the head whenever he came by.
As Urahara reached under his counter, pulling out some paper and a pen, all the while muttering to himself about the logistics of creating a new memory, Jinta snuck outside into the warm sunshine. During the summer, he was even more prone to slack off work and just lie in the sun or kick around a football.
However, someone else was already on the porch.
"Hey brat," Abarai greeted, still shirtless, still breathtaking. He was lying down, soaking up the sun, red hair loose and fanned around his head.
"Don't call me that," Jinta snapped. "I'm not a brat."
Abarai turned lazy eyes towards him. Jinta blushed as Abarai dragged his gaze up and down his body, before smirking and looking away. The action took his breath away and ignited some irritating hope that would, eventually, be crushed.
"Guess not," Abarai said. "You're all grown up, after all."
Jinta had heard that a lot, lately, about how he was 'all grown up', an adult. It was… irritating. He'd been growing up for years and they just now noticed it?
"You're not half bad, considering how ugly ya were as a kid," Abarai continued, only to receive a kick in the side by Jinta.
"'Least I grew out of it, unlike some people," Jinta snapped pointedly.
Abarai laughed aloud – the sound caused Jinta to gulp audibly. It had been a long time since he'd heard Abarai laugh. "You can't be talking about me. This is the body of Adonis. And from the way you've been ogling me, I'd say you agree."
Jinta was rendered speechless.
Abarai shook his head. "What, didn't think I'd notice? You're not exactly subtle, ya know. Half the time you look like you wanna devour me. Not that I can blame ya."
Jinta abruptly stood, face flaming. He was about to retreat into the safety of the shop when his hand was grabbed. With an abrupt tug, he was pulled back down. And right into Abarai's lap.
"I can't say I'm complaining, though," Abarai continued, as if Jinta wasn't currently sitting squarely on his crotch. "Like I said, you're not half bad."
Before Jinta had time to actually recover his breath, Abarai had once again stolen it. With a kiss. On his lips.
"Happy birthday Jinta."