[Fanfiction] - Renji/Rukia - My First Kiss...
So. This is one of what I suspect will be a few. I hesitate to say 'many', but a few at least. Basically, while listening to bad pop music, I decided to write a series of oneshots around the 'My First Kiss' theme. This is Renji's. It will sadly disappoint anyone wanting hot, sexy fic. :p However, the schmultzy, squishy romantic centre of my heart thinks it's cute, so I am posting it. May rot teeth with sugar content.
Title: My First Kiss (Went A Little Like This...)
Fandom: Bleach
Genre: Gen/Romance (it's not very romantic)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Renji/Rukia (and implied Ichigo/Rukia)
Wordcount: 418
Warnings: Het. Um...sappiness?
Disclaimer: If I owned Bleach, my laptop's keyboard would not be missing keys. Just sayin'.
Notes: I know they're both minors, but as this isn't a sexy fic I'm guessing that won't be an issue.
Summary: Renji thinks about Rukia, the past and the future.
He’d been thirteen, all knees and elbows and a shock of perpetually tangled red hair. He’d always know Rukia was a girl, but it had taken on relevance at thirteen that it hadn’t had when he was eleven. He’d noticed more, noticed her bare legs and her pink lips.
He’d also taken care never to be caught noticing, because Rukia punched like a boy and had particularly violent elbows. By that age he’d slipped from the grasp of enough perverts, and made ill-considered forays into enough shadowy alleys, to have a vague concept of how everything worked. But as he started to grow taller his burgeoning stature went hand in hand with a blossoming curiosity about girls. ‘Ick’ began to metamorphose into ‘hmm.’
It hadn’t really been intended to be a kiss. He’d just been so glad to see her alive, scrawny and blood splattered but with her eyes like embers. Despite the danger of a fist to the jaw for his troubles, he hadn’t been able to resist yanking her into a rough hug. To his shock, she’d wrapped her skinny arms around his neck and held onto him for a moment, her cheek pressed against his. He’d been able to feel all of her ribs, pressing through the flimsy fabric of her tattered clothes.
He’d turned his head. He’d only meant to tell her I’m so glad you’re alright, but then his mouth was on hers and her chapped lips tasted like blood and plums.
He’d never kissed anyone before and it was weird; wet and awkward and disconcerting. And good.
Now, when he sees Rukia, it makes him strangely proud to think he was the first boy she kissed. Perhaps it’s self indulgent, but it’s something between them nobody can take away. She’s Rukia Kuchiki now, with her noble name and her proud stance, but he knows that he saw her ferocity, her loyalty, her temper and her heart long before anyone else did. Their time has passed, buried along with friends and nameless companions, but when their eyes meet they see each other in a way nobody else ever will.
It’s why he was willing to die for her. Die for a girl he hadn’t spoken to as a friend in years. Die for a memory. Because when they were young, they built themselves from memories and dreams.
A secret part of him hopes that when Ichigo finally plucks up the courage to kiss her, she’ll sock him one before she kisses him back.
Thoughts?
Title: My First Kiss (Went A Little Like This...)
Fandom: Bleach
Genre: Gen/Romance (it's not very romantic)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Renji/Rukia (and implied Ichigo/Rukia)
Wordcount: 418
Warnings: Het. Um...sappiness?
Disclaimer: If I owned Bleach, my laptop's keyboard would not be missing keys. Just sayin'.
Notes: I know they're both minors, but as this isn't a sexy fic I'm guessing that won't be an issue.
Summary: Renji thinks about Rukia, the past and the future.
He’d been thirteen, all knees and elbows and a shock of perpetually tangled red hair. He’d always know Rukia was a girl, but it had taken on relevance at thirteen that it hadn’t had when he was eleven. He’d noticed more, noticed her bare legs and her pink lips.
He’d also taken care never to be caught noticing, because Rukia punched like a boy and had particularly violent elbows. By that age he’d slipped from the grasp of enough perverts, and made ill-considered forays into enough shadowy alleys, to have a vague concept of how everything worked. But as he started to grow taller his burgeoning stature went hand in hand with a blossoming curiosity about girls. ‘Ick’ began to metamorphose into ‘hmm.’
It hadn’t really been intended to be a kiss. He’d just been so glad to see her alive, scrawny and blood splattered but with her eyes like embers. Despite the danger of a fist to the jaw for his troubles, he hadn’t been able to resist yanking her into a rough hug. To his shock, she’d wrapped her skinny arms around his neck and held onto him for a moment, her cheek pressed against his. He’d been able to feel all of her ribs, pressing through the flimsy fabric of her tattered clothes.
He’d turned his head. He’d only meant to tell her I’m so glad you’re alright, but then his mouth was on hers and her chapped lips tasted like blood and plums.
He’d never kissed anyone before and it was weird; wet and awkward and disconcerting. And good.
Now, when he sees Rukia, it makes him strangely proud to think he was the first boy she kissed. Perhaps it’s self indulgent, but it’s something between them nobody can take away. She’s Rukia Kuchiki now, with her noble name and her proud stance, but he knows that he saw her ferocity, her loyalty, her temper and her heart long before anyone else did. Their time has passed, buried along with friends and nameless companions, but when their eyes meet they see each other in a way nobody else ever will.
It’s why he was willing to die for her. Die for a girl he hadn’t spoken to as a friend in years. Die for a memory. Because when they were young, they built themselves from memories and dreams.
A secret part of him hopes that when Ichigo finally plucks up the courage to kiss her, she’ll sock him one before she kisses him back.
Thoughts?