Title: Well Shit
Author: Hollowshirosaki413\ D.R. Ward
Summary: Ichigo Kurosaki as a young child had been kicked to the curb for being what they call 'gay.' He had suffered a lot in the past years and now, six years later, Ichigo finds himself about to die in an alley. But of course, a certain albino swept in and, for once, saved the day. And when a home was offered to Ichigo, and food, and plenty of other things, how was he to refuse? Maybe there was a god after all. Humor\Fluff. Not depressing at all. xD
Ichigo sat as millions upon millions of people walked the streets around him, some talking on phones and some talking to other people, some silent, some homeless – such as him – some dealing drugs or alcohol for money and tons of other miscellaneous things that he saw day by day, all day, every day, in the night, at noon, at every time everyone and anyone could think of. It was a world that everyone who lived in Kakura Town knew and lived with from time to time; no one really cared about the worst and the best they saw anymore – each and every one of them had become desensitized to what they saw as they went to whatever place they were supposed to go to. Ichigo had grown to know it as well, after all, he had been living in this very same alley he was in now for over six years.
Not saying that he liked it or anything, because he didn't. No one did, but it was the homeless people's lives and hey, that's what happens when one has no money and they grow up in a shit family. Sooner or later they would run away or be thrown out to the side for some reasons, but that didn't matter, did it? No one really cared. No one loved the world for the world anymore, no one had a big enough heart to care for a person, no one thought about anyone else but their selves anymore because y'know what, it was the twenty-first motherfucking century!
Well, at least, that's what Ichigo thought.
That's what he thought before he met him.
Ichigo Kurosaki didn't like people. He wasn't a people person. He didn't like starting conversations with them or smiling at them or even looking at them, and most of all, he hated being one. Ichigo was that person who had a sixty-inch-thick barrier of steel surrounded by barbed wire and concrete from the cold, hard world, Ichigo was one of those people who you just didn't walk up to. He spit in your face and told you to fuck off, because that way, he didn't get hurt any more than he already was. And he was used to it. He was used to the faces he got and the sneers that he had, he was used to everyone knowing him and ignoring him because they knew what would become of them. They would turn into a fool. A regular, old, fool.
However, apparently not everyone knew that.
Especially not the man known as Shirosaki Ogichi Hichigo.
Third Person POV
The wind was horrible today.
It was a North wind and as brisk as it was, as cold as it was, as scary as it was, Ichigo couldn't bring himself to care. Even as he sat in the outer corner of the freezing alley with nothing but a light sweatshirt, he couldn't bring himself to give a fuck about the weather, because he couldn't even think of a single fucking thought at that moment. All he knew was he was so cold, he would end up getting sick again, and hey, maybe god was on his side and it would be bad enough to actually kill him. It was wishful thinking though, Ichigo knew, because that fake god that everyone was talking about and praised; wasn't there for him whenever he needed that piss poor fucker. Like now, couldn't he get the wind to stop? Couldn't he send down a guardian-fucking-angel to at least get him a warmer fucking jacket? No, because he was nothing but a piece of dog shit that people wipe of the bottom of their shoe with a rather large rock.
Not like he cared or anything; Ichigo was just trying to make conversation with himself to pass the time.
Ichigo watched blankly as people passed by doing what they were always doing – going to work or some shit, meeting their girlfriends\boyfriends and being fucking rich. No one spared a glance at him, or any of the homeless for that matter, because they thought that him, along with the rest of the homeless, were just fucking piles of crap. And hey, most of them were. Most of them got on the streets because they liked to get themselves into jail for no apparent reason, liked to piss off their family to the point of abandonment, but the point was – not all of them. He knew a few that were on the streets like he was, he knew why.
Because no one liked gay people.
No one liked gay people because they were afraid they would catch the 'disease.' They thought they would become gay because the people they talked to were gay, and would proceed to beat the living shit out of anyone gay to make themselves feel better about being straight. Now Ichigo personally fucking hated this because his step-dad was enough of a douche to kick him out for that stupid reason when he was a child. There was no real purpose to it! And the fucker ditched him! It wasn't like he was going to bring him a guy every night and fuck them in front of his face, because Ichigo just wasn't like that, but no, his step-dad didn't seem to understand that and continued to kick his ass out within a damned second.
He hated anyone who did that.
But that was a while ago. It wasn't like he could change it now, like he could go back home and say 'dad, I'm not gay', even when he still was, just to find a place to sleep. No, like that would happen. Though he didn't care anymore. This was what he was now – a street bum – and this was what he would stay for the remaining time of his life.
The young Kurosaki sighed and brought his feeble sweatshirt closer to his body, trying to contain his warmth. If it could, his stomach would be growling, but his innards got so used to the long periods of time that lacked food that he really didn't even notice it anymore. Well, yeah, he noticed, but he didn't get cramps or anything anymore. His stomach didn't growl, like it should've, but he certainly could tell from the fact that his mind was being blown into millions upon millions of pieces. It was all like….He ate when he found something, he never begged, shit like that. Not like anyone would give him anything if he begged, anyway.
That was just how people were.
So, reluctantly, Ichigo stood to try and find something not poisonous to put in his stomach. However as he did, the fatigue and pure sickness that he had been caring caused him to become wobbly on his feet. Immediately, Ichigo tried to catch himself, stumbling around a couple of times in the darkness. He coughed as he stumbled and tried to right his vision from the blurriness he was being sucked in to, but it was no avail and not seconds later did he find himself plummeting to the cold, hard ground of the alley.
The last thing he saw was some guy reaching out to grab him.
He really needed some fuckin' food.
When Ichigo awoke from his…Rather strange case of passing out, his hand immediately flew from his side to his stomach. He didn't have time to react to anything but pain as he shot up from the bed he was curiously laying on and coughed heavily, legs constricting so there was a little less pressure on his stomach. The orangette groaned; he didn't remember not eating hurting his stomach like that. It was like it went up in flames, not to mention the cramping or the raw feeling of a bottomless pit that nothing occupied. There was a twinge of starvation, but not only that, because his throat felt like it was six times bigger than it was normally. Now, usually he would glance around his surroundings even in an odd position like now, but all he wanted to do, was eat and get something to fucking drink before he seriously ended up dying. So Ichigo did what he thought was best.
He got his lazy ass up and stumbled to what seemed like the door. As a matter of fact, he figured out it was when he face-planted right in to it. But he shook that shit off and forced his shaky hand to open the door and pass the contents of the room, moving forward to find something, anything, to put into his stomach. The feeling of starvation wasn't a wonderful one in the long run, and right now, the orangette wished he was a fucking billionaire just to get a good damned meal.
The lights were extremely bright as he exited the bedroom he was placed in, and he had to fight off the need to run each and every step he took. Eventually, with a little help from the side rails, Ichigo managed to get downstairs. He heard a slight running of water coming from one of the rooms as he continued to stumble his way through the huge ass mansion-like house. There were expensive mirrors lining the place, with flowers and a shit-ton of colour that exploded in the place; it was so easy to get lost – where was
"H-Hello?" Ichigo called out as he began to pant, trying to figure out which direction was the kitchen. He blinked the blurriness away from his eyes as he stumbled more and more, his stomach beginning to permanently cramp itself up. "Um, can you hear me?" Ichigo called out a little bit louder. A cough bubbled a bit later. God, did his throat hurt.
"O-Oi, hey, I'm in 'ere." A voice called out from what seemed like a few doors down. Ichigo followed the strange-accented being to the door and pushed it open, revealing a blast of light. "Holy shit, man, ya alrigh'? Here, lemme get ya some –…" Ichigo cut off said being. His vision didn't really last long enough to see the guy but he remained standing long enough so that when he fell, the other was close enough to catch him.
"Food…I need food….A-And….Water…" Ichigo's eyes slid shut and he focused on the warmth around him instead of how much his stomach hurt. It actually did help a little. The arms that held him were slightly protective, and after so long of having to fend for himself, Ichigo thought that this feeling was extremely welcoming. But that didn't last long, thinking he was safe, because the cramps intensified and his legs began to shake under the hold. He didn't even have any pressure on them! He really was going to die if this kept up.
"Alrigh'…Alrigh', hold up." The man, instead of wasting time to drag the orangette somewhere, carefully placed Ichigo on the tile of what seemed like the kitchen – what a coincidence – and rushed towards the counter. Ichigo kept his gaze downcast and his eye-lids over his orbs, mostly because the light was killing his mind and he was becoming weaker and weaker as the moments went by. A second or so later, Ichigo heard a faucet running, which he presumed was going to be water. The thought of water….It sounded so good to him, and to stop himself from drooling over himself, Ichigo had to swallow whatever tiny bit of saliva he could muster. His dehydration was getting worse.
Ichigo didn't have time to think when a hand grasped his chin and lifted his face up. He didn't have any strength to do it himself. So the orange-haired bum sat like a dead man as he felt a cool, slightly metallic liquid slide down his throat – god did it taste fucking amazing – through his internal organs and eventually beginning to hydrate his body again. By now he was able to swallow instead of having the helpful man rub circles around his throat – again, how did he know to do that? – And his body was beginning to feel a little bit less cramped up before. Ichigo sighed softly as the last drop slid down his throat.
What was given to Ichigo next faintly reminded him of a cracker; he wasn't sure what cracker, but he could tell it was crushed for an easier downing. This time the man did help Ichigo swallow, only for the fact that crackers were extremely dry but settled one's stomach. When the fed man felt the food flow down him he instantly felt better; the water helped a lot and the crackers were the best type of nourishment he had in ages.
When Ichigo was done getting fed, the man who had helped pulled away. Ichigo, now feeling strong enough to at least open his eyes, decided to do so.
He immediately wished he hadn't.
Sitting in front of him was quite possibly the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on.
He didn't know the man, hell, he didn't know a name or where he lived, (obviously here, but 'here' was still unknown.) but all he knew was that there was no being in the world who could look as beautiful, as exotic as the being in front of him. Ichigo had to give a double take, no, a triple take, to the guy who had just fed him back to life. His skin, a stunning, extremely bright white tone, was being highlighted by the kitchen lights so well that he practically glowed. Not only was the guy an albino, he had a set of eyes that had Ichigo weak on his knees even when he wasn't standing.
His eyes, oh god, his eyes. They were as black as the blackest of blackened night, but oh no, not the actual orb, it was the sclera that was black. The actual dilation around his pupil was a perky, shimmering yellow, however more than one colour poured throughout the endless orbs that were staring back at him with something keen to humor. Ichigo felt like the man was tearing him apart with his eyes; they appeared all-knowing and mysteriously cryptic, but Ichigo really couldn't give two flying fucks that he couldn't tell what the other was thinking right now – because hell, he couldn't even think. It was like his own tanned, lithe body was completely rooted to the spot, controlled by the strange, fantasy-prone gaze in his very veins.
Even the man's hair was snow white – well, maybe more of a silver; but it, as well as his skin, glittered in the artificial light that was basking down on him. Ichigo was dumbfounded some guy could atone so much white on his body, but he came to realize he didn't care if the man looked like that. Ichigo realized as well that the striking carnation was beyond similar to him – he was a pale copy of his own body. Down to the very last muscle, it was almost exactly the same, however a little bit more toned and prominent from Ichigo's lack of activity. And, well, they guy looked a lot cleaner than him – but that was a downright given. Probably smelled better, as well.
"Ya done with yer interrogation?" The sinful voice that he had remembered spoke again, a thin line of humor lacing around the words spoken. Ichigo sputtered and blushed, feeling strange again. He hadn't felt like this in a while. It was probably the one-on-one contact that he received. Hell, he was sure of it. There was no other reason. Nope, not at all. It wasn't like he felt attached to the albino that was in front of him. Never. That wasn't even a possibility!
"S-Sorry. I've just n-never seen someone s-so…." Ichigo had to pause and cough through his sentence because his throat felt a tiny bit scratchy, but he otherwise settled on the now dull ache of his body functioning again.
"Freaky?" The albino answered for him. "I kno'. I ain't exactly normal."
Ichigo blinked and shook his head quickly, avoiding the fact that that made him feel a bit dizzy. "N-No, just…." He wasn't going to say beautiful, he wasn't going to say beautiful, he wasn't going to say – "–Beautiful."
Oh for fuck's sake.
The man in front of him chuckled at the awe-inspiring voice that came out from the orangette. "Why thank ya, kid. Gotta name?" The albino said as he stood, offering a hand to the still sitting being. The albino could see the thin blush that appeared on the homeless man's angular cheekbones. Ichigo took the hand that was offered to him and was pulled up. They dropped each other's appendages not long after.
"Ichigo. Ichigo….Kurosaki." That name tasted better on his mouth than his step-fathers name anyway. Ichigo then offered a hand to the albino to shake. "And thank you for saving my life." He added as an afterthought, a small smile adorning his otherwise harsh, grimy features.
The man nodded, that smirk never leaving. "Hichigo. Hichigo Ogichi Shirosaki." Ichigo raised an eyebrow at the strange name but the guy now dubbed as Hichigo only shrugged, grabbing his hand and shaking it firmly. He was naturally aware when the hand strayed on his own a little bit longer than necessary. "An' yer welcome, Ichi."
Hichigo turned his back to Ichigo and began walking towards the big appliance known as a refrigerator. "Go ahead an' sit, ya gonna wanna get somethin' else in yer stomach other than crackers." Hichigo settled for idle chit-chat as he opened the door to a man's best friend. Food immediately invaded both of the men's vision, causing Ichigo to drool a tad and Hichigo to begin pondering what he would feed the weakened orangette. There was vegetables, but he was sure that Ichigo wasn't in need for that kind of protein….However, meat sounded like a better idea. He had some leftover chicken packed away from a day or so ago and it was still good. That would be perfectly fine.
Ichigo watched carefully as Hichigo took out a clear container with a red lid. He didn't know what kind of food was in there, but whatever it was, he couldn't wait to eat it. Being homeless and all, Ichigo didn't have it in him to be a picky eater so whatever it was he was sure he could handle. Bright brown orbs watched Hichigo as he uncovered the lid and flipped it upside down, causing the orangette's gaze to catch a glimpse of the food before it was plopped into the microwave. The red lid was placed on a moment later, followed by a closing of the appliance and a few button-pushing. Ichigo was sure it was chicken that Hichigo was cooking up. And the thought of chicken – actual met – going into his stomach made his chest growl rather loudly, which was followed by a pair of topaz yellow eyes drifting in his direction. Ichigo smiled sheepishly.
"I haven't had meat in a while." He explained quietly, his own gaze falling to his skinnier-than-normal legs. To mention, Ichigo just realized that his old clothing was taken off of him and his knew clothing – presumably Hichigo's fit perfectly and warmed his body up to a T. He didn't have it in him to care that the albino saw anything – after all, he was freezing and on the verge of dying in the first place.
"I can tell." Hichigo replied. His eyes locked with a sea of Brandy; Hichigo could tell the other was still tired. However, the kid needed food in him and Hichigo didn't want another moment like just before re-occurring on his watch. It would ruin his pretty-little-image of the less-than-sanitary boy.
"Yeah." They lapsed into a comfortable silence then.
After about another minute passed, the beeper for the microwave shot the silence with a silver-coated bullet, triggering a jump from the two look alike's. Their stares turned to the piece of machinery and Hichigo was the first to snap out of it, moving forwards a step to get out the food. With one hand getting the hot chicken and the other getting a fork, Hichigo hummed softly at the ever so slight burn his fingers took. Then the door to the microwave slide shut and Hichigo turned and walked a couple of steps, just close enough so he could sit on an expensive stool opposite of Ichigo to watch the man eat.
When the food was placed in front of Ichigo, he was, at first, scared to eat. But he got over his fears quickly and gathered all of his restraint not to just pick up the chicken bare-handed and fucking gouge the shit out of it. A fork was picked up and Ichigo tentatively stabbed the piece of meat, avoiding the calculating gaze that was trained on him. He took the first bite of the chicken and –.
Holy mother of all fuckin' dragons and shit this was the most amazing bit of food he ever tasted in his god-damned pitiful life.
In an instant, Ichigo's tongue was attacked with all sorts of flavors. Both tangy and sweet, salty and moist, tender and all around amazing. It was like taking the first bite of ice-cream, how you take one bite and then just can't stop eating it until the whole dang carton was done; Ichigo had to have another bite. His restraints were wearing low but he still kept his mannerisms to a minimum, making sure he didn't look like a freaking rabid animal eating the best piece of meat ever.
"Ya like?" Hichigo grinned when he heard a moan pass a pair of perfectly sculpted lips. He watched as the man took another bite, and then another, and then another. He could tell that the kid wanted to stuff his face with the food, but hell, he had to give the orange-haired man props for not freaking the hell out over the food.
"I love." Ichigo forgot that he was eating and spoke anyway, his eyes sliding shut. All he could think about was the chicken and the amazing flavors his tongue was at war with, how his still strangely white and sharp teeth ripped apart the cooked flesh and swallowed the best thing that he had ever eaten in a long time – if not forever.
The albino snorted and leaned back, stretching. "Good ta' kno'. Don't cook meals like tha' too often, though."
Hichigo thought it was adorable when a pair of bronze eyes widened and stared at Hichigo like he was crazy.
Hell, he even stopped eating for a second.
And, well, dropped his fork back in the bowl.
"You made this?" Came an awe-stricken voice. The baritone sound rang in Hichigo's ear like a melody and all he did in reply was grin.
"Damn straight. Ya don't get shit like tha' from the store."
Ichigo found it slightly hard to believe the cook in front of him. To be able to make something that good and talk about it like it was a simple thing to make, well, Ichigo was just dumbfounded. Sure, he hadn't had a good meal in years, but this was just….He couldn't even think of the words to think about it. Not only was Hichigo the sexiest thing he had ever seen, he cooked like a royal piece of whatever the hell was good enough to be described as this. It was just as good, if not better, than his sisters cooking that he had inhabited over the small time that they were together, and that was saying something. It was actually one of the highest praises that Ichigo could give someone – he didn't just say people cooked like his sister all the time.
He ignored the little tightening of his chest when he remembered Yuzu.
Ichigo couldn't even form words after their little discussion and he instead picked up his fork again and finished eating. When he was done, he handed the empty bowl to Hichigo who put it in his expensive-looking sink. This gave Ichigo the time to glance around. He hadn't noticed if before as much as he did now, but Hichigo lived like a king. His house was huge; it was nothing short of a mansion. It was clean and orderly and day he say – fashionable – with so many colours that it was hard to tell what all of them were. Apparently Hichigo didn't like bland things because everything was doused in some sort of colour, from flowers to flower pots to walls to all sorts of other knickknacks. There wasn't a speck of pure white anywhere other than on the being itself and that made Ichigo wonder if the guy had something against white – maybe he was tired of it? From being the epitome of white or something?
He didn't really know.
Hichigo came back and sat down on the stool in front of him. His gaze immediately snapped to the attractive man who was now staring at him with his cheek calmly placed in the palm of his hand, elbow on the table with a lazy stare emitting from his just-as-attractive face. "I gotta extra room set up fer ya fer a while – managed to finish it while ya were zonked out." Hichigo started up a conversation. "There's a few pairs of cloths in the extra closet tha' ya can 'ave, old shit and stuff like tha'. Ya also got a shower, so feel free ta use it any time ya like." The albino scrunched up his nose in mock annoyance, making Ichigo frown at the man. It wasn't like they had showers in an alley or some shit. He was lucky if he got a bath in a pond once a –.
"Huh?" Ichigo blinked. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. I'm not staying here, am I?" He asked, flabbergasted at the mere idea.
"….Well, I'd like ta think ya were." Hichigo replied, finally lifting his face off of his hand. "Weren't ya?"
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I couldn't ask that of you! I already had a meal and was saved from death –…"
"Which would happen right again when ya go back out there. It's perfectly fine, Ichi. Besides, look at 'dis place. I get lonely sometimes, y'know? Might be good fer some company." The albino replied with a calm smirk towards the once homeless being.
"No buts. Yer stayin' 'ere ain't ya ain't got nothin' that'll kick ya out."
Ichigo blinked at the statement once, but then frowned and glanced down at his hands. Should he tell Hichigo? He though aimlessly as he felt the air around him shift from careless to curious. A gulp ensued in the silence as the orangette promptly realized that if he didn't tell Hichigo, he would find out sooner or later and that would get him kicked out still. So, his rational mind said it was now or never. "Well, not exactly…." Ichigo murmured softly as he lifted his stare back up to the albino's, now a dead, faraway look that Hichigo didn't like at all. A thin, pale eyebrow rose in question.
"Meanin'?" Hichigo watched as the orangette took a deep breath.
"Uh…." Ichigo fidgeted. "I'm sorta, uh…."
Hichigo watched as the eyes strayed from him. "Wha'?" He asked again, this time confused.
"Well, uh, I kinda….Have….A disease…." Ichigo managed to get out without any squeaks or anything.
Hichigo narrowed his eyes and stiffened a little bit, cocking his head to the side. "Like….? He prompted again.
"Well, get it out already." The albino was becoming impatient, Ichigo could tell.
So, he relished in a deep breath and stared at Hichigo with whatever little bit of confidence he had left. "I'm….Gay."
A moment of silence.
A stretching moment of silence.
Hichigo's gaze turned solid; black.
Oh, here it comes….Ichigo, stand up already….
"Since when is tha' a disease?" Hichigo said instead, staring stupidly as the orangette.
Ichigo, in a moment of confusion, blinked as well. He didn't have anything to really say to that, because all rational thoughts that he had brought up were thrown out the window, and instead, all he managed to do was sit there stupidly and stare at Hichigo like he grew another head. Had he heard what he thought he just heard? An actually human being saying it wasn't a disease? Was there actually a god out there – was there actually someone who….Who….Actually said that to him? Ichigo couldn't think. What Hichigo said was so unexpected it sent unwinding shivers all the way through the frozen body Ichigo owned, making it unable to even stand. Before he knew it, Ichigo felt the unfamiliar sensation of tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, followed by a sharp inhale that certainly didn't come from him.
"O-Oi, hey, ya alrigh'? Don't cry, I didn't mean –…"
"N-No…." Ichigo croaked out softly as he glanced down as his folded fingers, cutting the man off. "I just….You caught me off-guard…." Ichigo replied with something keen to a state of shell-shock.
Hichigo couldn't help but scowl and stand, feeling an impending sense of guilt as he made his way around the expensive kitchen island to Ichigo. Though, he stopped about a half of a foot away when Ichigo flinched and sagged his head deeper towards himself, trying to hide from the scrutinizing gaze that was set on him like a predator nailing his prey. Hichigo, though, didn't pause for long and after the initial astonishment, he wrapped his arms around the stranger to give him some sort of comfort. "Hey, hey. It's all good, ne? It's fine, nothin's wron'…." Hichigo cooed to the orange-haired homeless stud as he tightened his arms around him. Ichigo shifted a little to the right to get a little bit more comfortable in the arms that held him. He eventually relaxed from his stiffened state and Ichigo found himself willing back his tears, sighing in content as the warmth surrounded his body.
"S-Sorry, I just…." Ichigo murmured into the other's chest.
Hichigo chuckled and held on tighter. "Nah, nothin' ta be sorry fer. So how 'bout I let'cha in on a little secret of my own while we're at it, ne?" The watery voice drifted through Ichigo's ears like a wondrous orchestra, and all Ichigo could do was sit and listen. "I'm jus' abou' as straight as a circle as well, Ichi." Came a humorous remark.
Well, it was safe to say that Ichigo wasn't expecting that.
Hichigo came to that conclusion when the orangette stiffened under his hold and immediately pulled away from him, stumbling off the stool and standing on his feet. Ichigo stared at the albino like he grew another head, but inside of his own head, all he could think of was that there was, by chance, a god that was actually out there. He wouldn't have, in a million years, thought that Shirosaki was gay, not in any twisted, fucked up universe on the other side of the galaxy a thousand light years away, but apparently, Ichigo traveled just that far to get into that universe. But he couldn't have….He just couldn't have….Maybe there was….No, there wasn't a chance that Hichigo would even think about him, hell, for all Hichigo knew, the guy had a boyfriend and he….Well, he was a homeless guy that smelled like sewer rate.
"Y-Your gay?!" Ichigo stuttered out, his eyes wide and his face alight with a pure red flame. Hichigo chuckled when he realized that the orangette didn't have a face of disgust, but of pure, utter shock, and embarrassment, and a few other things that he couldn't pinpoint. Point was, Ichigo was freaked.
"Mmn. Tha' shocking?" Hichigo smirked and tilted his head, stealing Ichigo's chair for his own. He leaned his face on his knuckles once again, his arm resting on the countertop, giving Ichigo the utmost expression of, get this, humor. That was shocking again, wasn't it? It seemed like Ichigo was getting that face more and more often.
"Whose your boyfriend?! Oh my god, does he know I was here!? Oh fuck, I didn't mean to intrude or anything, I –…."
Ichigo was interrupted by the loudest crackle of laughter he ever heard. It was no short of insane. "Relax, Ichi. Even if I had a boyfriend it wouldn't be like he wanted me ta leave ya ta die, y'know? But no, I've been free fer a while. Though, I'm pretty damn sure I'm ready to change tha'." Hichigo glance Ichigo a suggestive stare, but apparently he didn't get it, because he was immediately thrown back with another rant.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll get out of your hair right away, I mean, I didn't, I'm sure the guy –…."
Ichigo was cut off again. "Goddammit, Ichi, yer really damned dense." Hichigo wrinkled his nose again and stood, shaking his head.
The orangette paused and stared at Hichigo with a confused expression. What did he mean? He just intruded on the albino's life and his possible love interest and –…. "What're you talking about?" Ichigo furrowed his brow as he thought. Shouldn't Hichigo be mad at him?
Hichigo took a step forward, closer to Ichigo, but the orangette was too panicky to notice. "Tha' my dear Ichi, means ya don't kno' when a certain albino is tryin' ta put the moves on ya." Hichigo murmured in the others face. Ichigo blinked, and then blinked again. A few more seconds of blinking.
When Ichigo finally got what the rich man was saying, his face light up like a lighthouse siren calling out to a docking ship. "O-Oh." He said sheepishly as he realized just how close he was to the albino. "Uh…." Ichigo tried to respond, but found the lack of brain communication he was facing reprimanded him from doing so.
"So, Ichi, whaddya say." Hichigo cocked his head to the side as he took a step back, offering a hand to the other and a huge ass grin on his face. Ichigo was afraid his features would split in half. "Wanna live with yer boyfriend?"
How could he say no to that?
Chapter One – End
Well guys, what didja think of the first chapter? I know I know, I'm one of those people who start like, thirteen other stories because they don't like their ongoing one's, but I hope you guys aren't too mad if you read any of my other stuff. Also I know it's been forever since I've updated – I've been cooped up in bed for the longest time after my surgery. xD So, I apologize. On a brighter note, please review and tell me what you think! So I describe too much and not put enough action into it? Or do I not describe well enough and don't put enough action into it? Please do tell, it would help my writing by a ton. xD I hope to see some reviewing soon! Thanks for reading, as always, guys!
See you in the next chapter~.