RenIchi - Aphrodisiac
Title: Aphrodisiac.
Pairing: Renji/Ichigo (Ichigo POV).
Rating: NC-17.
Genre: Quicky, half-assed PWP.
Prompt: "Aphrodisiac", at bleachhedonism.
Word Count: 2,900 (I swear one of these days I'm gonna run out of adjectives for Renji's anatomy).
Summary: He was overwhelmed with the need to breathe more of Renji in, to taste his neck, his pulse. To make it thump.
A/N: So, Ichigo's may be a little more dom than I usually have him ;XD
*Could be considered in the Before We Start Thinking Again 'verse!
*Hopefully I've managed to pretend I'd captured how aphrodisiacs sometimes... posses you. EVERYBODY, LET'S JOIN bleachhedonism! Fun prompts, man, fun prompts.
Comments are love!
"Shit, what time is it?" Ichigo asked, stumbling into Renji's quarters. Late shift, again. It was completely dark, save for moonlight, and he was pretty sure it was a miracle his eyes were still open.
"Hell if I know," Renji replied, equally exhausted next to him. He flicked the light switch on, but Ichigo didn't even need it to know his way around this place by now. He carefully placed Zangetsu on the floor and then crashed to the sofa.
"What're you doing, idiot?" Renji snapped, still standing by the shoji and leaning against the wall. The moonlight sipping from the window next to him wasn't completely negated by the lights in the room, and it did funny things to Renji's eyes - dark red clashing with the intensity of the silver. His glare seemed much deeper now, able to see through Ichigo.
"What?" he asked as he sprawled further on the sofa, tucking his hands under his head and finally feeling his muscles slowly relax. He closed his eyes, partly to avoid Renji's gaze and partly because it took too much effort to keep them open.
"Yer gonna get my house all dirty with hollow blood is what -" A long yawn interrupted Renji's sentence, and Ichigo smiled at his boyfriend's tampered resolve to kick him out.
"Fuck your house, I'm too tired to move," he said, keeping his eyes firmly shut. He expected to fall asleep at any second, but found he couldn't. The sluggishness was definitely overpowering him, but he still felt incredibly energetic.
Apparently he was in the weird state where his body was straining from fighting for too long, and yet too hyped up from all the adrenaline and spirit energy - not to mention the pleasant buzzing of endorphins still rushing everywhere inside him, leaving him... on edge, and unsatisfied.
Even alongside a fellow shinigami (and one he'd learned to synchronize perfectly with), taking care of a horde of hollows took a lot of time and effort on his part, and a toll on his body. By now he'd adapted. The muscle exertion became exhilaration, the pain from the few hits he took reduced to a throb at the back of his head. The adrenaline, the energy, was still pumping through him, and he figured maybe he wasn't too tired after all.
He cracked his eyes open when he heard some shuffling across the room, and his throat went dry as he realized Renji was busy taking off his shihakusho. Renji hissed to himself when the fabric clung to his body (hollow blood, or sweat, Ichigo guessed), before it finally fell to the floor with the obi.
He bent down to remove his waraji, and Ichigo was completely mesmerized by the play of light on his slick muscles, much more apparent now that he stood by a window, and much more alluring now that they were glistening with sweat, tensing under hot-looking skin. Under the moonlight, the tattoos revealed to Ichigo stood in harsh contrast with the pale skin beneath them, and Ichigo's already blurry mind could focused solely on that, on Renji's toned skin, his hard muscles, and those alone.
Renji finally straightened himself, completely naked other than a loincloth, and stretched out, throwing his arms over his head and flexing his tattooed biceps, as if to purposely torture Ichigo. Renji let out a drawn out hum of satisfaction, and his eyes were closed, and fuck.
Ichigo's breath quickly picked up, and Renji must have heard that. He opened his eyes and looked at the sofa again, piercing Ichigo's eyes with that weird moonlit reflection. It definitely looked good - hell, it felt good, to be the focus of such a stare. Shivers ran down his spine.
"What're you -" Renji's gaze traveled lower down Ichigo's body, suddenly, and then his face lit with understanding. "Oh."
A leer spread on his face, wild and dangerous. He stuck out his chin in challenge, looking away from Ichigo's groin back to his eyes. "Thought you were too tired to move," he said, but it didn't sound very accusatory. More like… an invitation; Ichigo was more than willing to take him up on.
"Your goddamn fault for looking like that and taking off your clothes," Ichigo retorted with no real heat behind his words. Or rather, a different kind of heat. He slowly peeled himself off the sofa, but didn't get up just yet. He leaned back on his hands, resisting the urge to adjust his hakama for obvious reasons. Instead, he cocked an eyebrow at Renji, a sly smirk forming on his lips. What're you gonna do about it?
Renji still wouldn't budge, folding his arms over his chest. "I am too tired. 'fraid you're gonna have to come all the way over here if you wanna get some."
If that wasn't incentive, Ichigo didn't know what was. He intended to rein himself in and tease Renji a little longer, when the breeze changed its course and rolled into the room in his direction through the open window. Suddenly he was engulfed - assaulted - by Renji's distinct scent; sharp and strong and currently a little musky. Masculine, enveloping.
His cock twitched, and he wondered briefly when the hell the smell of Renji's sweaty, overworked body became an aphrodisiac for him, made him forget to breathe. He was overwhelmed with the need to breathe more of Renji in, to taste his neck, his pulse. To make it thump. His feet were simply drawn to Renji, now.
Using some of the sloppiest shunpo he'd ever practiced, he was right up Renji's face within a second. If he hadn't been so close he would have missed the slight hitch of Renji's breath, the flash of surprise in his eyes before he retained composure. Ichigo liked this, and wondered how far he could push him in the state he - okay, both of them were in.
"How're you gonna -"
"Shut up," Ichigo cut him off with a harsh voice, and didn't need to look in Renji's eyes to know he was both pissed and aroused by then. He couldn't keep his eyes off Renji's lips even if he'd wanted to, anyway. The smell was much stronger when they were this close, intensified by Renji's quick breaths mingling with his own, and Ichigo could do nothing but inhale him and feel him and stare and not touch.
Just when Renji parted his lips and leaned down to finally kiss him, Ichigo ducked his head and swiped his tongue, slowly, along Renji's neck, following the tattoos even with his eyes closed. Sharp was the first word that came to mind. The taste was tangy, even stronger than the scent, and Ichigo couldn't help but think of virility again. He more than liked this. He lost himself in this every time he was near Renji, let alone when they fucked.
He couldn't resist tasting Renji again, pressing against his long neck when Renji threw his head back and gasped. Ichigo kept their bodies apart, kept himself out of reach, pinning Renji to the wall with intent alone. He left wet marks in his wake as he continued flicking his tongue against Renji's hot skin, giving his Adam's apple a quick nip before moving to the other side of his throat.
It wasn't that he wondered if Renji tasted the same (he knew that much from previous explorations, after all), it was that he wanted more. Led by - possessed by primal needs and instincts, he couldn't stop himself.
Renji had obviously figured out what Ichigo was so entranced by, and Ichigo heard a fleeting chuckle amid the constant thrumming of ragged breaths and quick heartbeats and his pulse, right under Ichigo's tongue. "You're warped," Renji said, quietly, huskily.
Ichigo smiled against his neck, following a jagged tattoo to his vibrant hair, and then his ear. "The bite marks on my inner thigh say you're in no position to judge," he whispered archly, running his tongue over the shell of Renji's ear.
Another fleeting chuckle, but this time much less noticeable considering it was drowned out by the sound that memory got out of Renji. "Maybe, but I still need a shower to get nice an' clean, Ichigo. Feels like I'm in the 11th Division again."
Ichigo barely suppressed a wicked smile as he gave Renji's earlobe a teasing suck and then took two steps back without warning. It was even harder not to burst out laughing when Renji's eyes fluttered open promptly, and he nearly fell forward in an attempt to follow Ichigo.
"Alright, fine," Ichigo said in a faked annoyed tone and started shucking the shihakusho off his shoulders. "Go take your shower. I'll just finish here by myself." He looked up when he started undoing his obi, using a slow, quite deliberate tone. "You better close the door, though, so you won't hear me… Moaning your name…"
Renji's eyes widened and he grabbed the front of Ichigo's uniform in a split second. "Fuck, get over here," he said, but didn't actually wait for Ichigo to move, instead yanking him forward and wrapping his arms around his hips almost possessively. His hands got rid of Ichigo's obi hastily, a lot more aggressive than Ichigo had been moments ago. Renji's tongue peeked out to wet his lips as he stared down at Ichigo's rapidly exposing body.
Ichigo leaned up again and resumed nipping Renji's neck, slowly dipping lower to his collarbone. He pressed his lips against the flesh, smelling that concentrated tang from the crook of Renji's neck.
"You're sniffing me like an animal -"
Ichigo rolled his eyes and pinned Renji back again, only this time he used his hands, and his hips - eliciting a groan from them both. "I said, shut up."
Renji mumbled resignedly, apparently accepting that Ichigo wanted to be in charge this time, and when he wanted something, he got it. Finally Renji slipped Ichigo's uniform off, his underwear quickly following.
Ichigo did his best to help Renji, but he was much more focused on tracing the inky lines from the other's bicep to his heaving chest, reveling in Renji's responses, in his growing flush, in his intoxicating scent and taste.
"Ya really getting off, aren't you?" Renji asked in a deep, rumbling voice, barely over a groan, and Ichigo grinned while giving his nipple a playful bite.
"Uh-huh," he murmured over Renji's chest, blowing hot air on the overheated, damp skin. His hands slowly left Renji's sides to trace the lines his tongue couldn't reach. "I want you… all sweaty and shaky and musky. But if you wanna be a girl about it -"
Renji laughed breathily, shivering under Ichigo's touch, and Ichigo could feel his laugh reverberating in his chest. "Trust me," within a second Ichigo's hand was shoved down Renji's fundoshi. "I'm no girl."
He grinned, giving Renji's hand a hard smack for taking initiative, but keeping his own firmly cupping Renji's hard cock. If there was one way he'd get control… "Oh, I know that much." He trailed his hand over the outline of Renji's cock, his fingers slow. He smirked when he noted the precome already staining his fundoshi, which was on the floor in an instant.
"Aah, well, figured you'd - oh, fuck."
Ichigo already admitted defeat in shutting Renji up, but that didn't mean he couldn't play with him a little. A hard tug when Renji opened his mouth, a swift swirl of his thumb, rapid wrist movements, easy strokes - up, down, up, down - and Renji was reduced to cursing, shivering putty in his hands.
Renji's grip on his hips tightened considerably during those minutes, and Ichigo wondered if it'd leave more marks on him, if Renji's scorching panting would leave marks on his ear. He slowed his hand a little, but wasn't surprised when Renji picked up the slack and rocked his hips into Ichigo's fist, growling under his breath and grinding his head into the wall, his eyes shut, his cheeks flushed, his brow sweaty, his back arched, everything about him so fucking sexy.
When his eyes opened, they were much darker than usual, aroused and needy and fixed on Ichigo with intensity. "Handjob?"
Ichigo shrugged, returning to his insistent tonguing. Renji couldn't offer him such a view of his stretched neck and expect him not to take advantage of it, after all. There was something so erotic, so mesmerizing in doing this now - when they were a mass. It roused Ichigo's most basic, primal drives. "Too tired to fuck you, guessing you're the same."
Renji nodded above him, a few stray hairs that had escaped the ponytail brushing Ichigo's face. "Horny enough to settle," he added, sneaking his hand from Ichigo's hip to his navel, over his pubes, his hard cock - before Ichigo pushed Renji's hand away aggressively. He kept a firm clutch on the captured wrist and tightened his hold on Renji's cock, which made Renji cry out in pleasure, and then hiss in annoyance.
"Uh-uh," he said, biting Renji's earlobe again. "Wanna see you come hard first."
Renji moaned in his ear - such an addictive sound. "Not gonna take much longer if you keep talkin' like that," he whispered roughly, and Ichigo smiled, tugging the lobe with his teeth.
He knew exactly what he was doing. "Yeah, try having sex with you. Though I guess you're too tired to talk dirty this late, eh?"
Renji hissed again, making Ichigo chuckle. "You keep distracting me, idiot -" Ichigo captured his lips before he could finish the sentence. Renji's eyes shut almost immediately and he parted his lips, compliant despite everything.
Ichigo raised his hand to Renji's face, cupping his chin and tilting his head to kiss him properly. He quickened his hand movements, giving Renji's cock light squeezes and swallowing the rewarding moans.
It was only when his other hand had started teasing Renji's nipple that Renji pulled back from the searing kiss and gave a shout of surprised pleasure, his head helplessly clashing with the wall again. His face, everything about him was so full of abandon, pure lust and incredible heat, Ichigo couldn't look away.
He suddenly decided to switch tactics and left Renji's nipple, instead raising his hand to his mouth and licking his palm thoroughly under Renji's heavy, lust-laden gaze. His rocking hips lost a little of their rhythm, and it looked as though he was holding his breath. Finally, Ichigo lowered his hand again and replaced it with the dry one.
He wrapped his fingers over the cock and started pumping a lot faster than before, harsher, so fast his wrist ached. "Come for me, now," he instructed in a dominating voice, and nearly lost it when Renji practically whimpered and then shouted his name.
Ichigo didn't stop even when Renji went rigid against him, not until he was coming, hard, all over Ichigo's hand and stomach. He drew it out with his hand, stroking slower and slower until Renji placed his hand over Ichigo's and stopped him completely.
Renji's head lay heavily on Ichigo's shoulder, incredibly hot breaths hitting his skin like solid matter. His clean hand crept over Renji's defined chest, and he nuzzled the other's hair affectionately, but after a moment Renji pushed him back, and Ichigo was left confused, if not a little dizzy.
Renji didn't spare a glance at Ichigo's face. His intense gaze pierced Ichigo's body, lower, all the way to his cock. Ichigo realized what was going on. It was one of those times when Renji was so intent on returning a favor he had to observe and figured out what to do with him, with all that. Ichigo had never once doubted Renji would take excellent care of him, but during these moments he was so turned on he couldn't think.
The anticipation made his fingers twitch, until finally he couldn't take it anymore. "How're you gonna do me?" he asked, to spur Renji on, or perhaps to get him to verbalize whatever he was thinking.
"I think I'm finally getting what you were talking about." He pulled Ichigo closer again by the hips, pressing against him quite knowledgeably. Ichigo nearly tumbled over from the feeling of his cock finally being touched. "You really are hot, all dirty and sweaty like that. Wanna… eat you up."
Ichigo bit his tongue to keep from making any sounds that would incriminate how badly he wanted Renji to do just that, how he longed to see his cock between Renji's lips, to be touched, sucked off, to come. Instead, he said, "Oh, but you know, you really should take a shower. Get nice an' clean."
Renji laughed, biting Ichigo's lower lip playfully and making him tremble slightly. "We could… save water?"
It was Ichigo's turn to laugh, then. "What are you proposing?"
Renji was gone before Ichigo could blink, a lot less sluggish than Ichigo had imagined (or, well, hoped) he would be. It was very cold all of a sudden, and he realized the draft was still creeping into the room because the window was still open and right there and oh, fuck.
"Come and find out," he heard from the bathroom, followed by the sound of water running. Ichigo at once decided to ignore the complaints they'd probably have to deal with tomorrow morning and refocused, deciding nice and clean might not be so bad after all.
END inb4showersex
Pairing: Renji/Ichigo (Ichigo POV).
Rating: NC-17.
Genre: Quicky, half-assed PWP.
Prompt: "Aphrodisiac", at bleachhedonism.
Word Count: 2,900 (I swear one of these days I'm gonna run out of adjectives for Renji's anatomy).
Summary: He was overwhelmed with the need to breathe more of Renji in, to taste his neck, his pulse. To make it thump.
A/N: So, Ichigo's may be a little more dom than I usually have him ;XD
*Could be considered in the Before We Start Thinking Again 'verse!
*Hopefully I've managed to pretend I'd captured how aphrodisiacs sometimes... posses you. EVERYBODY, LET'S JOIN bleachhedonism! Fun prompts, man, fun prompts.
Comments are love!
"Shit, what time is it?" Ichigo asked, stumbling into Renji's quarters. Late shift, again. It was completely dark, save for moonlight, and he was pretty sure it was a miracle his eyes were still open.
"Hell if I know," Renji replied, equally exhausted next to him. He flicked the light switch on, but Ichigo didn't even need it to know his way around this place by now. He carefully placed Zangetsu on the floor and then crashed to the sofa.
"What're you doing, idiot?" Renji snapped, still standing by the shoji and leaning against the wall. The moonlight sipping from the window next to him wasn't completely negated by the lights in the room, and it did funny things to Renji's eyes - dark red clashing with the intensity of the silver. His glare seemed much deeper now, able to see through Ichigo.
"What?" he asked as he sprawled further on the sofa, tucking his hands under his head and finally feeling his muscles slowly relax. He closed his eyes, partly to avoid Renji's gaze and partly because it took too much effort to keep them open.
"Yer gonna get my house all dirty with hollow blood is what -" A long yawn interrupted Renji's sentence, and Ichigo smiled at his boyfriend's tampered resolve to kick him out.
"Fuck your house, I'm too tired to move," he said, keeping his eyes firmly shut. He expected to fall asleep at any second, but found he couldn't. The sluggishness was definitely overpowering him, but he still felt incredibly energetic.
Apparently he was in the weird state where his body was straining from fighting for too long, and yet too hyped up from all the adrenaline and spirit energy - not to mention the pleasant buzzing of endorphins still rushing everywhere inside him, leaving him... on edge, and unsatisfied.
Even alongside a fellow shinigami (and one he'd learned to synchronize perfectly with), taking care of a horde of hollows took a lot of time and effort on his part, and a toll on his body. By now he'd adapted. The muscle exertion became exhilaration, the pain from the few hits he took reduced to a throb at the back of his head. The adrenaline, the energy, was still pumping through him, and he figured maybe he wasn't too tired after all.
He cracked his eyes open when he heard some shuffling across the room, and his throat went dry as he realized Renji was busy taking off his shihakusho. Renji hissed to himself when the fabric clung to his body (hollow blood, or sweat, Ichigo guessed), before it finally fell to the floor with the obi.
He bent down to remove his waraji, and Ichigo was completely mesmerized by the play of light on his slick muscles, much more apparent now that he stood by a window, and much more alluring now that they were glistening with sweat, tensing under hot-looking skin. Under the moonlight, the tattoos revealed to Ichigo stood in harsh contrast with the pale skin beneath them, and Ichigo's already blurry mind could focused solely on that, on Renji's toned skin, his hard muscles, and those alone.
Renji finally straightened himself, completely naked other than a loincloth, and stretched out, throwing his arms over his head and flexing his tattooed biceps, as if to purposely torture Ichigo. Renji let out a drawn out hum of satisfaction, and his eyes were closed, and fuck.
Ichigo's breath quickly picked up, and Renji must have heard that. He opened his eyes and looked at the sofa again, piercing Ichigo's eyes with that weird moonlit reflection. It definitely looked good - hell, it felt good, to be the focus of such a stare. Shivers ran down his spine.
"What're you -" Renji's gaze traveled lower down Ichigo's body, suddenly, and then his face lit with understanding. "Oh."
A leer spread on his face, wild and dangerous. He stuck out his chin in challenge, looking away from Ichigo's groin back to his eyes. "Thought you were too tired to move," he said, but it didn't sound very accusatory. More like… an invitation; Ichigo was more than willing to take him up on.
"Your goddamn fault for looking like that and taking off your clothes," Ichigo retorted with no real heat behind his words. Or rather, a different kind of heat. He slowly peeled himself off the sofa, but didn't get up just yet. He leaned back on his hands, resisting the urge to adjust his hakama for obvious reasons. Instead, he cocked an eyebrow at Renji, a sly smirk forming on his lips. What're you gonna do about it?
Renji still wouldn't budge, folding his arms over his chest. "I am too tired. 'fraid you're gonna have to come all the way over here if you wanna get some."
If that wasn't incentive, Ichigo didn't know what was. He intended to rein himself in and tease Renji a little longer, when the breeze changed its course and rolled into the room in his direction through the open window. Suddenly he was engulfed - assaulted - by Renji's distinct scent; sharp and strong and currently a little musky. Masculine, enveloping.
His cock twitched, and he wondered briefly when the hell the smell of Renji's sweaty, overworked body became an aphrodisiac for him, made him forget to breathe. He was overwhelmed with the need to breathe more of Renji in, to taste his neck, his pulse. To make it thump. His feet were simply drawn to Renji, now.
Using some of the sloppiest shunpo he'd ever practiced, he was right up Renji's face within a second. If he hadn't been so close he would have missed the slight hitch of Renji's breath, the flash of surprise in his eyes before he retained composure. Ichigo liked this, and wondered how far he could push him in the state he - okay, both of them were in.
"How're you gonna -"
"Shut up," Ichigo cut him off with a harsh voice, and didn't need to look in Renji's eyes to know he was both pissed and aroused by then. He couldn't keep his eyes off Renji's lips even if he'd wanted to, anyway. The smell was much stronger when they were this close, intensified by Renji's quick breaths mingling with his own, and Ichigo could do nothing but inhale him and feel him and stare and not touch.
Just when Renji parted his lips and leaned down to finally kiss him, Ichigo ducked his head and swiped his tongue, slowly, along Renji's neck, following the tattoos even with his eyes closed. Sharp was the first word that came to mind. The taste was tangy, even stronger than the scent, and Ichigo couldn't help but think of virility again. He more than liked this. He lost himself in this every time he was near Renji, let alone when they fucked.
He couldn't resist tasting Renji again, pressing against his long neck when Renji threw his head back and gasped. Ichigo kept their bodies apart, kept himself out of reach, pinning Renji to the wall with intent alone. He left wet marks in his wake as he continued flicking his tongue against Renji's hot skin, giving his Adam's apple a quick nip before moving to the other side of his throat.
It wasn't that he wondered if Renji tasted the same (he knew that much from previous explorations, after all), it was that he wanted more. Led by - possessed by primal needs and instincts, he couldn't stop himself.
Renji had obviously figured out what Ichigo was so entranced by, and Ichigo heard a fleeting chuckle amid the constant thrumming of ragged breaths and quick heartbeats and his pulse, right under Ichigo's tongue. "You're warped," Renji said, quietly, huskily.
Ichigo smiled against his neck, following a jagged tattoo to his vibrant hair, and then his ear. "The bite marks on my inner thigh say you're in no position to judge," he whispered archly, running his tongue over the shell of Renji's ear.
Another fleeting chuckle, but this time much less noticeable considering it was drowned out by the sound that memory got out of Renji. "Maybe, but I still need a shower to get nice an' clean, Ichigo. Feels like I'm in the 11th Division again."
Ichigo barely suppressed a wicked smile as he gave Renji's earlobe a teasing suck and then took two steps back without warning. It was even harder not to burst out laughing when Renji's eyes fluttered open promptly, and he nearly fell forward in an attempt to follow Ichigo.
"Alright, fine," Ichigo said in a faked annoyed tone and started shucking the shihakusho off his shoulders. "Go take your shower. I'll just finish here by myself." He looked up when he started undoing his obi, using a slow, quite deliberate tone. "You better close the door, though, so you won't hear me… Moaning your name…"
Renji's eyes widened and he grabbed the front of Ichigo's uniform in a split second. "Fuck, get over here," he said, but didn't actually wait for Ichigo to move, instead yanking him forward and wrapping his arms around his hips almost possessively. His hands got rid of Ichigo's obi hastily, a lot more aggressive than Ichigo had been moments ago. Renji's tongue peeked out to wet his lips as he stared down at Ichigo's rapidly exposing body.
Ichigo leaned up again and resumed nipping Renji's neck, slowly dipping lower to his collarbone. He pressed his lips against the flesh, smelling that concentrated tang from the crook of Renji's neck.
"You're sniffing me like an animal -"
Ichigo rolled his eyes and pinned Renji back again, only this time he used his hands, and his hips - eliciting a groan from them both. "I said, shut up."
Renji mumbled resignedly, apparently accepting that Ichigo wanted to be in charge this time, and when he wanted something, he got it. Finally Renji slipped Ichigo's uniform off, his underwear quickly following.
Ichigo did his best to help Renji, but he was much more focused on tracing the inky lines from the other's bicep to his heaving chest, reveling in Renji's responses, in his growing flush, in his intoxicating scent and taste.
"Ya really getting off, aren't you?" Renji asked in a deep, rumbling voice, barely over a groan, and Ichigo grinned while giving his nipple a playful bite.
"Uh-huh," he murmured over Renji's chest, blowing hot air on the overheated, damp skin. His hands slowly left Renji's sides to trace the lines his tongue couldn't reach. "I want you… all sweaty and shaky and musky. But if you wanna be a girl about it -"
Renji laughed breathily, shivering under Ichigo's touch, and Ichigo could feel his laugh reverberating in his chest. "Trust me," within a second Ichigo's hand was shoved down Renji's fundoshi. "I'm no girl."
He grinned, giving Renji's hand a hard smack for taking initiative, but keeping his own firmly cupping Renji's hard cock. If there was one way he'd get control… "Oh, I know that much." He trailed his hand over the outline of Renji's cock, his fingers slow. He smirked when he noted the precome already staining his fundoshi, which was on the floor in an instant.
"Aah, well, figured you'd - oh, fuck."
Ichigo already admitted defeat in shutting Renji up, but that didn't mean he couldn't play with him a little. A hard tug when Renji opened his mouth, a swift swirl of his thumb, rapid wrist movements, easy strokes - up, down, up, down - and Renji was reduced to cursing, shivering putty in his hands.
Renji's grip on his hips tightened considerably during those minutes, and Ichigo wondered if it'd leave more marks on him, if Renji's scorching panting would leave marks on his ear. He slowed his hand a little, but wasn't surprised when Renji picked up the slack and rocked his hips into Ichigo's fist, growling under his breath and grinding his head into the wall, his eyes shut, his cheeks flushed, his brow sweaty, his back arched, everything about him so fucking sexy.
When his eyes opened, they were much darker than usual, aroused and needy and fixed on Ichigo with intensity. "Handjob?"
Ichigo shrugged, returning to his insistent tonguing. Renji couldn't offer him such a view of his stretched neck and expect him not to take advantage of it, after all. There was something so erotic, so mesmerizing in doing this now - when they were a mass. It roused Ichigo's most basic, primal drives. "Too tired to fuck you, guessing you're the same."
Renji nodded above him, a few stray hairs that had escaped the ponytail brushing Ichigo's face. "Horny enough to settle," he added, sneaking his hand from Ichigo's hip to his navel, over his pubes, his hard cock - before Ichigo pushed Renji's hand away aggressively. He kept a firm clutch on the captured wrist and tightened his hold on Renji's cock, which made Renji cry out in pleasure, and then hiss in annoyance.
"Uh-uh," he said, biting Renji's earlobe again. "Wanna see you come hard first."
Renji moaned in his ear - such an addictive sound. "Not gonna take much longer if you keep talkin' like that," he whispered roughly, and Ichigo smiled, tugging the lobe with his teeth.
He knew exactly what he was doing. "Yeah, try having sex with you. Though I guess you're too tired to talk dirty this late, eh?"
Renji hissed again, making Ichigo chuckle. "You keep distracting me, idiot -" Ichigo captured his lips before he could finish the sentence. Renji's eyes shut almost immediately and he parted his lips, compliant despite everything.
Ichigo raised his hand to Renji's face, cupping his chin and tilting his head to kiss him properly. He quickened his hand movements, giving Renji's cock light squeezes and swallowing the rewarding moans.
It was only when his other hand had started teasing Renji's nipple that Renji pulled back from the searing kiss and gave a shout of surprised pleasure, his head helplessly clashing with the wall again. His face, everything about him was so full of abandon, pure lust and incredible heat, Ichigo couldn't look away.
He suddenly decided to switch tactics and left Renji's nipple, instead raising his hand to his mouth and licking his palm thoroughly under Renji's heavy, lust-laden gaze. His rocking hips lost a little of their rhythm, and it looked as though he was holding his breath. Finally, Ichigo lowered his hand again and replaced it with the dry one.
He wrapped his fingers over the cock and started pumping a lot faster than before, harsher, so fast his wrist ached. "Come for me, now," he instructed in a dominating voice, and nearly lost it when Renji practically whimpered and then shouted his name.
Ichigo didn't stop even when Renji went rigid against him, not until he was coming, hard, all over Ichigo's hand and stomach. He drew it out with his hand, stroking slower and slower until Renji placed his hand over Ichigo's and stopped him completely.
Renji's head lay heavily on Ichigo's shoulder, incredibly hot breaths hitting his skin like solid matter. His clean hand crept over Renji's defined chest, and he nuzzled the other's hair affectionately, but after a moment Renji pushed him back, and Ichigo was left confused, if not a little dizzy.
Renji didn't spare a glance at Ichigo's face. His intense gaze pierced Ichigo's body, lower, all the way to his cock. Ichigo realized what was going on. It was one of those times when Renji was so intent on returning a favor he had to observe and figured out what to do with him, with all that. Ichigo had never once doubted Renji would take excellent care of him, but during these moments he was so turned on he couldn't think.
The anticipation made his fingers twitch, until finally he couldn't take it anymore. "How're you gonna do me?" he asked, to spur Renji on, or perhaps to get him to verbalize whatever he was thinking.
"I think I'm finally getting what you were talking about." He pulled Ichigo closer again by the hips, pressing against him quite knowledgeably. Ichigo nearly tumbled over from the feeling of his cock finally being touched. "You really are hot, all dirty and sweaty like that. Wanna… eat you up."
Ichigo bit his tongue to keep from making any sounds that would incriminate how badly he wanted Renji to do just that, how he longed to see his cock between Renji's lips, to be touched, sucked off, to come. Instead, he said, "Oh, but you know, you really should take a shower. Get nice an' clean."
Renji laughed, biting Ichigo's lower lip playfully and making him tremble slightly. "We could… save water?"
It was Ichigo's turn to laugh, then. "What are you proposing?"
Renji was gone before Ichigo could blink, a lot less sluggish than Ichigo had imagined (or, well, hoped) he would be. It was very cold all of a sudden, and he realized the draft was still creeping into the room because the window was still open and right there and oh, fuck.
"Come and find out," he heard from the bathroom, followed by the sound of water running. Ichigo at once decided to ignore the complaints they'd probably have to deal with tomorrow morning and refocused, deciding nice and clean might not be so bad after all.
END inb4showersex