RenIchi - Renji! Ichigo! Sex!
Title: Renji! Ichigo! Sex!
Pairing: Renji/Ichigo (Ichigo POV).
Rating: NC-17.
Genre: PWP. Again :P
Prompt: "Ichigo", at bleachhedonism.
Word Count: 4,040.
Summary: “Damn, it is salty,” he noted, and would hold the feral something accountable for what he was about to suggest next.
A/N: Meet the sexed-up epilogue to the “Summer! Sea! Swimsuit festival!” phenomena, or the original, anti-Hollow watermelons-free - Bleach at the Beach. (I really tried to write from Renji's POV so it'll be more Ichigo-centric, but It's too much fun to fangirl Renji ;XD) Enjoy, peeps.
Comments are love!
Ichigo was still laughing when he and Renji had entered his house. He was still laughing when they’d went up the stairs and entered his room, and was definitely still laughing when he spared Renji a glance again. When Renji growled in annoyance, it was just too much. Ichigo clutched his stomach and bowed his head, still laughing even as Renji kicked his knee.
"Will you fucking stop that?!" Renji demanded, and Ichigo forcibly took a few breaths to calm himself, suppressing another burst of laughter as he envisioned yet again Renji's complete and utter failure of a rescue mission at the beach a few hours ago.
"Dude, you were flung a mile into the ocean by a giant watermelon. If it'd happened to me you would've laughed too," he managed defending himself between snorts, and looked up at Renji solemnly. The other man just growled again, seething.
“I wouldn’t, because I’m a nice guy. You’re just an ass,” he said, folding his arms across his chest like a sullen child. Ichigo would have felt sorry for him, if he hadn’t just been insulted. And considering the fact they both knew Renji wasn’t a nice guy at all - deranged lunatic didn’t seem like a stretch at times, making Ichigo definitely wonder why he liked him so much - Ichigo was fairly convinced Renji’s whole point was to call him an ass.
“You can’t insult me when there’s a fucking seaweed poking out of your swim trunks.” Ichigo barely managed to stifle a chuckle when Renji looked over his shoulder and pulled out the offending seaweed, cursing all the while. “Which are ridiculous, by the way,” Ichigo added, and Renji snapped his head up.
“Can’t believe you wore that ridiculous shirt all day,” he said, smirking unpleasantly. “Please tell me it isn’t some kind of trend in the human world of mentally challenged.”
“My shirt?! What about your tank top?” Ichigo pointed at Renji’s chest, stepping closer. “You probably have some weird tan lines now.”
Renji huffed, sticking out his chin. “Whatever, it makes my tattoos look awesome.”
Ichigo forgot his own standby retort. He couldn’t exactly argue with that, could he? Not with the way his mind was reeling when he’d first seen Renji step into view wearing that thing, nor with the way he was reacting right now.
His head absentmindedly tilted to the side as he took Renji in again - nearly-transparent damp tank top doing very little to cover his wide torso, taut muscles, his jagged tattoos peaking just over his biceps, his collarbones. That they were only hints of the tattoos awakened Ichigo’s explorative nature, and made his fingers twitch.
The fact this happened whenever he took the time to really look at Renji today made hanging out with all the Soul Society people even more awkward, giant rapist anti-Hollow watermelons aside. Not to mention him not having any excuses when Rangiku-san complained he wasn’t paying her boobs enough attention.
He’d hoped they’d get some alone time when they went to the beach shack together, his mind already coming up with a plan to explain Renji’s inevitable bite marks, when they’d discovered Inoue was there. Only now, well, they were home alone, and damn, Renji looked good in that, seaweeds and all.
Of course, Renji reacted immediately to Ichigo’s pause and following stare, and zoomed in on him before he could blink. Ichigo looked up, startled when the tattoos came closer before realizing it was Renji who was coming closer and he really shouldn’t let himself get carried off like that. “Your necklace is stupid,” Renji taunted, smirking and leaning close, though Ichigo detected another kind of heat behind his insult.
He blinked a few times to collect his thoughts, which really didn’t help considering every time he opened his eyes Renji was somehow closer. By the time he came up with an undoubtedly snippy reply, Renji’s breath was ghosting over his nose. “Your face is stupid.” Oh yes, snippy.
Renji snorted and then laughed lightly and maliciously, which for some reason made Ichigo breathe faster than was really necessary. “Oh really?” he asked in a dangerous tone, and Ichigo, still stunned by the lameness of his own sentence, leaned up and kissed Renji to shut him up.
Of course, the second their lips brushed together they were kissing for completely unrelated reasons, a lot more needy and primal and good and - how the hell did Ichigo end up pressed against his wall?
He grunted when Renji’s tongue slid against his own - first slowly, teasingly, before picking up a familiar rhythm - and wrapped his arms around Renji’s neck, threading his fingers through damp, sand-filled hair. Renji drew back, then, breathing heavily against Ichigo. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue over his lips, Ichigo’s heated gaze following his every move. “Hm,” he mumbled. “Salty.”
Ichigo chuckled, and gave in to temptation, running his tongue over Renji’s lips as well and enjoying the gasp Renji gave at the sudden action. Indeed, he observed. “Well, we did dig under our badass sandcastle. And then rescued… Ikkaku… And…” Ichigo lost his track of thought in a matter of seconds, and who could blame him, really, what with Renji’s tongue lapping up his neck as one hell of a distraction. The saltwater still on his tongue, Ichigo looked down, bemused.
"That must be digus - ah…” he leaned his head back against the wall when Renji sucked on the crook of his neck, shutting him up incredibly effectively (with the added bonus of making him weak in the knees). He still looked down, mesmerized by the intense concentration in Renji’s expression, as if he was still doing all this just to discern the taste of his skin. “You crazy bastard.”
Renji locked their eyes, grinning and leaving Ichigo’s soft skin. “’S not that bad,” he uttered over Ichigo’s mouth, before pressing their lips together again and pushing him harder against the wall, pinning his wrists on either side of him. They both moaned when, trying to maintain dominance, Ichigo brought their groins together.
Renji hurriedly maneuvered their way to the bed, keeping them impossibly close, and it was only when Ichigo casually spared a glance at his open window that common sense rushed over him, and he halfheartedly left Renji’s lips. “We can’t do it on the bed, we’re still dirty from the - “
Of course, Renji took the separation from Ichigo’s lips as a cue to start sucking on his collarbone again, and when Ichigo found himself falling to his bed a second later, well, it was completely voluntarily. “I’ll kill you,” he choked out as Renji settled over him, though considering the tremors in his voice - not to mention his body - he doubted he sounded very convincing.
“Yeah, good luck trying that one again,” Renji replied, his voice rough, as it always was when he was turned on. Ichigo felt shivers down his spine, and a pulse of something run through his body. He gripped Renji’s shoulders and flipped them around swiftly, straddling the other’s hips and getting rid of his own shirt.
He smirked down at Renji when he noticed how hungrily the other was staring up at him, his vermilion eyes dark with growing lust that Ichigo felt in his own body, too. He pinned Renji to the mattress roughly and bent lower to ravish his neck, his very pulse, feeling something feral come over him.
When he attempted tracing Renji’s tattoos with his tongue - a habit he had which elicited incredibly affirmative and arousing growls from Renji - he couldn’t keep the frown off his face. “Damn, it is salty,” he noted, and would hold the feral something accountable for what he was about to suggest next. The smirk tugging at his lips seemed to have scared Renji, which in turn, for whatever inexplicable reason, had a certain effect on both their bodies. “Shower?”
Renji was practically skipping on his way down the stairs, grabbing Ichigo’s hand and dragging him off the second the words had left Ichigo’s mouth, his other hand securely holding a tube of lubricant Ichigo kept at his desk drawer.
Once they rushed into the downstairs bathroom Ichigo locked the door behind them, just in case. He turned around to face Renji again and found the other man already naked, and peering inside the shower stall. He would have chuckled at Renji’s impatience, if he hadn’t been overcome by lust and urges and all the things Renji was so fucking good at, to which Renji’s nudity didn’t help one bit.
All of a sudden Renji seemed almost too big for the room, all broad shoulders and prominent biceps and a tight stomach. His tattoos were strewn in flawless disarray, in contrast of his smooth skin, finally fully revealed. Ichigo’s explorative nature might have quieted now, but he was instead filled with undeniable desire. Desire to do, desire to touch.
He couldn’t get rid of his swim trunks fast enough. The water was already running when Ichigo stepped inside the stall, closing the slide door behind him. It was rather spacious, for a shower at least, to which Ichigo was incredibly grateful at the moment. However, that didn’t exactly stop him from stepping closer and wrapping his hands around Renji’s waist, while Renji was busy rinsing his now free hair under the showerhead.
Renji hummed approvingly and leaned back against Ichigo’s chest, his back wet and his muscles more relaxed than usual. Ichigo winced and jumped back, startled when the water stream hit him. “Shit, it’s freezing!” he complained, turning the ‘Hot’ knob to the right and looking up at Renji, who glanced over his shoulder, confused.
Ichigo cocked an eyebrow, trying to keep an amused grin off his lips. “You do know how to work a shower, don’t you?”
Renji huffed. “It’s different back at home!” his voice rang in the confined space, and for a moment Ichigo wondered how other things will sound bouncing back in here. Plus, he couldn’t really keep away from a pouting Renji for too long.
He chuckled and leaned up, kissing Renji softly on the lips as if to reassure him that it was okay he was an idiot. “As long as you don’t go soft on me.”
And oh, he didn’t. Ichigo kissed him again, considerably less softly, and discretely pushed him back so more water could fall on Ichigo and wash all the fucking sand away. He figured Renji’s roaming hands would do the rest of the work.
Ichigo quickly raised his hands to thread through Renji’s hair, and marveled at how soft it was when it was wet, somehow less unruly, tamed. He dared cracking an eye open and noted how gorgeous it looked, too, a lot darker than usual - blood-red twined between Ichigo’s long fingers.
He gasped when Renji’s tongue invaded his mouth again, tasting a lot less of salt and a lot more of Renji, popsicles, and a little of the water that sneaked into their open mouths. Ichigo figured he could get used to it, as the water stream ran down his back, stripping the stiffness off his muscles. His fingers quickly explored this new texture on Renji’s skin; softer, smoother, almost slippery. Not to mention shiny.
Renji chuckled at Ichigo’s fascination, but the sound got caught in his throat when Ichigo pushed him back against the wall and turned to taste his neck again, trailing those inky lines with extra fervor, as if to make up for the lost opportunity from before.
Renji’s left hand quickly settled between Ichigo’s shoulder blades, while the right one curled around Ichigo’s hip, pressing them together again. Ichigo found the way Renji’s rumbled groan echoed in the room utterly entrancing.
"Better?" Renji asked, amusement still laced in his voice though definitely an undercurrent of lust and passion and carnal and Renji.
Ichigo nodded vehemently, running his tongue over Renji’s collarbone and slowly bending lower to his chest. "Definitely. Want more."
Ichigo placed his hands on Renji’s hips and pushed him roughly again, making a wet sound at the impact (though he was definitely more interested in the sounds he was eliciting from Renji. The way they’d always pushed each other against things had its own rewards, despite the occasional bruise). He grinned and followed the intricate tattoos with his tongue, long licks that really did a number on Renji, going by his shivers and loud gasps. When Ichigo finally reached a nipple, he enclosed first his lips and then his teeth over it.
He glanced up and saw Renji leaning his head against the wall, his eyes fluttering closed and his mouth hanging open, a constant thrumming of pleasured groans slipping from between his lips. His skin was slightly flushed, and the droplets of water almost made it even more appealing.
Ichigo secured his hold on Renji’s waist and crouched down, nibbling his way across his torso while keeping his eyes on Renji’s face - attentive to every motion, every incredible sound reverberating off the walls - moving all the way to his hard cock. It was only then that Renji opened his eyes and stared down, and his breath seemed to hitch at the sight he found. Ichigo took perverse pleasure in that, as well.
“W-what’re you doing, Ichigo?” Renji asked in a low, guttural voice, and then seemed annoyed by it and turned the water tap off with a hiss. Ichigo was amazed by both how he’d gotten so used to the streaming of water he forgot all about it, and by how everything sounded different in here.
He grinned, then, and gave the head of Renji’s cock a slow lick, relishing Renji’s surprised moan. “Suckin’ you off. I mean, we can’t have sex here.”
Renji’s hand somehow found its way to Ichigo’s head, and was buried in his wet hair, slightly pulling, as if to get his attention. Like he didn’t already have all of it and then some. “Wanna find out?”
Ichigo didn’t even realize how much he wanted to find out until Renji said it with that voice - the kind that always made Ichigo’s heart skip a beat - until he saw the leer on Renji’s lips, and any further discussion went out the window. “Bring it on.”
He quickly rose again, feeling Renji’s excited smirk mirror on his own lips as he gave Renji’s cock a few strokes. Renji’s hand left his hair and traveled lower again, wasting little (too little, in Ichigo’s mind) time on returning the favor before gripping Ichigo’s hips again and turning him around. Ichigo didn’t even protest, not that he could, with Renji biting his neck playfully and rather harshly, making him groan.
He put one palm against the transparent shower wall and one on Renji’s hip behind him, before looking over his shoulder to see what Renji was doing. He would have complained about Renji putting the lube next to his sisters’ raspberry shampoo - that was, if said lube wasn’t already on Renji’s fingers, which was usually his cue to hold on tight and shut the hell up.
He closed his eyes when he felt Renji creeping closer, pressing against his back and licking up his neck, extremely sensitive after the bites from before. He nipped at the spot behind his ear before flicking his tongue against Ichigo’s earlobe, making him hiss and arch slightly.
Renji ran one finger from Ichigo’s shoulder blades, along his tensing muscles, until finally reaching his ass. “Ya ready, Ichigo?”
Ichigo nodded breathlessly, pressing closer to Renji in hopes he’d get the message. “Ah, fuck,” was all he managed to grit out when Renji’s finger slowly slipped inside him, and then another. Ichigo was very grateful for Renji’s other hand, secured around his chest, because while he was standing up he felt even less stable than he usually did in this position.
He arched again, and rested his head against the shower wall, noting how his moans echoed and formed fumes on the glass. Then he simply had to shut his eyes, because fuck, Renji was biting his ear and moving a lot faster than usual. Ichigo wasn’t sure whether he wanted to tell him to slow down or to do it like this every time. By now he was completely dazed, so talking wasn’t really an option, anyway. The air was thick around them, with fumes and heat and stifling lust, Ichigo couldn’t stand it anymore.
Apparently, neither could Renji, and by the time Ichigo was able to trust himself enough to manage sounds other than throaty groans the fingers were gone, and he heard some wet sounds when Renji pumped his cock once, twice, lathering it with lube.
He didn’t have to ask Ichigo if he was ready again, the electricity running between was enough confirmation, Ichigo thought, as he felt Renji’s cock press against his entrance. He bit his lower lip so hard it bruised when Renji pushed in, unexpectedly slow, stretching him and filling him and everywhere and everything all at once. Renji raggedly moaned his name, and it completely overtook him.
He nearly bit the finger that tugged at his lower lip before he realized it was Renji, and immediately released his lip from between his teeth, almost startled at the moans that poured out the second he did just that. Which was what Renji had probably wanted. He didn’t know, and suddenly, he didn’t much care. His groans echoed and intertwined with Renji’s, much like their hands and bodies and breaths at the moment, as Renji pulled out and then pushed back in, incredibly slow, too slow.
“Why are you - nngh…” He shut his eyes and bowed his head, as if keeping it raised was simply too much effort. “Go harder…”
“Mm,” Renji hummed behind him, bowing his head as well to bite on Ichigo’s ear again. “You know how much I want to,” he whispered, with a smooth thrust of his hips. “But I don’t wanna break anything here.”
“Fuck the shower. You, move faster,” Ichigo grit out and pushed back against Renji swiftly, eliciting a growl from both of them as pleasure shot through him, and he gripped the only thing he could at the moment - Renji’s hair. Knowing for a fact Renji rather liked that was a very good thing, especially in getting what he wanted, or in cases like these, where there was nothing to hold on to but Renji.
Renji picked up his pace, and Ichigo would have grinned victoriously if he could muster facial expressions at the moment. The clutching grip at his hips was the only thing keeping him steady as Renji started thrusting with more force, regretfully leaving his ear to rest his forehead against Ichigo’s shoulder. Ichigo could feel Renji’s feral groans forming there as he could hear them, and his own.
He knew his wobbly feet would soon become a problem, considering the slippery floor, but right now that was the last thing on his mind. He moved back when Renji thrust forward, and it was as though they both tried to keep up with each other as well as not completely lose it. Ichigo wondered briefly if that might have been a lost cause already, as Renji slammed into him roughly now, gaining loud groans of pleasure from Ichigo.
He was momentarily blinded with every thrust, every tug at his hair and nip at his ear, and really, messing with his ear and making those sounds in that place, Renji must have wanted to kill him. Hell of a way to go, too.
Renji seemed to get enough hold of himself to start moving his hands, then, and all thoughts evaporated from Ichigo’s mind. Renji trailed his fingers across Ichigo’s chest in a fluttering motion, almost hesitant; as if he was too far gone to know what he was doing, let alone to decide what he was going to do next.
Good thing he had dead-on instincts, Ichigo thought when Renji’s fingers found his nipple and squeezed, hard. He let out a sharp growl and then bit his lip again, which had less to do with not being too loud than it had to do with not coming right then.
He gave Renji’s hair a particularly harsh tug in reciprocation, though it was honestly quite selfish, as what he really wanted to do was make Renji moan in his ear again. Somehow, it seemed he had spurred Renji on further (or maybe that was his plan all along? Ichigo was fuzzy on the details in his own mind; he was fuzzy on anything besides the pleasure soaring in his veins and the cock plundering inside him, harder and harder and fuck).
“Wanted faster, Ichigo?” Renji asked him in a rough, strained voice, and if this were their first time Ichigo would have come merely because of the way his name rumbled out of Renji’s lips, amplified by the echoes and his heart hammering in his ears.
He nearly screamed when he felt sharp teeth sinking into his shoulder, making his arch immediately, which really did something miraculous as far as angles went because - “Fuck, Renji!”
There was no holding back his voice now, no holding back anything as he couldn’t even be sure to stay on his feet when intense pleasure rocketed through his veins, leaving him completely delirious and breathless and barely hanging on. Renji was merciless as he picked up his cue and thrust harder than before at that angle, again and again, his careless biting interrupted only by harsh groans each time their damp bodies slammed together, fitting perfectly.
They were both completely dazed by then, and it really wasn’t long before Ichigo felt the coils of euphoria in his stomach unwind, bursting violently and rapturously all through his thrashing body in one amazing instant, burning hot and heavy within him, until finally running out.
He vaguely registered Renji still thrusting into him, fast and erratic, and managed to snap his hips back a few times to push Renji over the edge completely. He leaned into and welcomed the feral biting accompanying Renji’s orgasm, not to mention the sounds of complete and utter loss of control he’d made, which knocked the breath out of Ichigo, as if he could spare it in the first place.
Ichigo found himself supporting some of Renji’s weight as the man slumped over his back, but the weight was somewhat comforting and Ichigo was too numb to do anything about it, anyway. It took them a while, but at long last they detached, shaky legs and even shakier breaths.
Ichigo attempted stretching his strained muscles, but the confined space made it difficult, especially with a fucking giant standing next to him, running his fingers through his hair with closed eyes. When Ichigo made a displeased sound at the mess all over his stomach, he spotted Renji cracking an eye open, and then smirking.
“What’re you so smug about?” Ichigo asked suspiciously.
“Had an idea.” Renji reached down to the shower tap and turned it on, and Ichigo felt a blissful current washing all the evidence of they’d just done in his family’s shower away, not to mention the relief it gave to his body. The room was quickly filling with steam, and he chuckled when Renji’s hand reached out to his.
“Need help,” Renji muttered, voice still hoarse. Ichigo couldn’t stop a shiver making its way down his spine. “My hair.”
Ichigo chuckled again and stepped closer. “Gladly. You big girl.”
Renji growled dangerously but didn’t shove him away, and Ichigo leaned up and kissed his neck, for some reason. “Next time, we’re having sex right on the beach.”
Renji laughed, his shoulders rolling and the corded muscles of his back flexing gracefully and yet not graceful at all. “Next time.”
Once they were finally finished, and Ichigo looked down at the water running under their feet, he knew this was either the cleanest sex he’s ever had, or the dirtiest shower.
END
Pairing: Renji/Ichigo (Ichigo POV).
Rating: NC-17.
Genre: PWP. Again :P
Prompt: "Ichigo", at bleachhedonism.
Word Count: 4,040.
Summary: “Damn, it is salty,” he noted, and would hold the feral something accountable for what he was about to suggest next.
A/N: Meet the sexed-up epilogue to the “Summer! Sea! Swimsuit festival!” phenomena, or the original, anti-Hollow watermelons-free - Bleach at the Beach. (I really tried to write from Renji's POV so it'll be more Ichigo-centric, but It's too much fun to fangirl Renji ;XD) Enjoy, peeps.
Comments are love!
Ichigo was still laughing when he and Renji had entered his house. He was still laughing when they’d went up the stairs and entered his room, and was definitely still laughing when he spared Renji a glance again. When Renji growled in annoyance, it was just too much. Ichigo clutched his stomach and bowed his head, still laughing even as Renji kicked his knee.
"Will you fucking stop that?!" Renji demanded, and Ichigo forcibly took a few breaths to calm himself, suppressing another burst of laughter as he envisioned yet again Renji's complete and utter failure of a rescue mission at the beach a few hours ago.
"Dude, you were flung a mile into the ocean by a giant watermelon. If it'd happened to me you would've laughed too," he managed defending himself between snorts, and looked up at Renji solemnly. The other man just growled again, seething.
“I wouldn’t, because I’m a nice guy. You’re just an ass,” he said, folding his arms across his chest like a sullen child. Ichigo would have felt sorry for him, if he hadn’t just been insulted. And considering the fact they both knew Renji wasn’t a nice guy at all - deranged lunatic didn’t seem like a stretch at times, making Ichigo definitely wonder why he liked him so much - Ichigo was fairly convinced Renji’s whole point was to call him an ass.
“You can’t insult me when there’s a fucking seaweed poking out of your swim trunks.” Ichigo barely managed to stifle a chuckle when Renji looked over his shoulder and pulled out the offending seaweed, cursing all the while. “Which are ridiculous, by the way,” Ichigo added, and Renji snapped his head up.
“Can’t believe you wore that ridiculous shirt all day,” he said, smirking unpleasantly. “Please tell me it isn’t some kind of trend in the human world of mentally challenged.”
“My shirt?! What about your tank top?” Ichigo pointed at Renji’s chest, stepping closer. “You probably have some weird tan lines now.”
Renji huffed, sticking out his chin. “Whatever, it makes my tattoos look awesome.”
Ichigo forgot his own standby retort. He couldn’t exactly argue with that, could he? Not with the way his mind was reeling when he’d first seen Renji step into view wearing that thing, nor with the way he was reacting right now.
His head absentmindedly tilted to the side as he took Renji in again - nearly-transparent damp tank top doing very little to cover his wide torso, taut muscles, his jagged tattoos peaking just over his biceps, his collarbones. That they were only hints of the tattoos awakened Ichigo’s explorative nature, and made his fingers twitch.
The fact this happened whenever he took the time to really look at Renji today made hanging out with all the Soul Society people even more awkward, giant rapist anti-Hollow watermelons aside. Not to mention him not having any excuses when Rangiku-san complained he wasn’t paying her boobs enough attention.
He’d hoped they’d get some alone time when they went to the beach shack together, his mind already coming up with a plan to explain Renji’s inevitable bite marks, when they’d discovered Inoue was there. Only now, well, they were home alone, and damn, Renji looked good in that, seaweeds and all.
Of course, Renji reacted immediately to Ichigo’s pause and following stare, and zoomed in on him before he could blink. Ichigo looked up, startled when the tattoos came closer before realizing it was Renji who was coming closer and he really shouldn’t let himself get carried off like that. “Your necklace is stupid,” Renji taunted, smirking and leaning close, though Ichigo detected another kind of heat behind his insult.
He blinked a few times to collect his thoughts, which really didn’t help considering every time he opened his eyes Renji was somehow closer. By the time he came up with an undoubtedly snippy reply, Renji’s breath was ghosting over his nose. “Your face is stupid.” Oh yes, snippy.
Renji snorted and then laughed lightly and maliciously, which for some reason made Ichigo breathe faster than was really necessary. “Oh really?” he asked in a dangerous tone, and Ichigo, still stunned by the lameness of his own sentence, leaned up and kissed Renji to shut him up.
Of course, the second their lips brushed together they were kissing for completely unrelated reasons, a lot more needy and primal and good and - how the hell did Ichigo end up pressed against his wall?
He grunted when Renji’s tongue slid against his own - first slowly, teasingly, before picking up a familiar rhythm - and wrapped his arms around Renji’s neck, threading his fingers through damp, sand-filled hair. Renji drew back, then, breathing heavily against Ichigo. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue over his lips, Ichigo’s heated gaze following his every move. “Hm,” he mumbled. “Salty.”
Ichigo chuckled, and gave in to temptation, running his tongue over Renji’s lips as well and enjoying the gasp Renji gave at the sudden action. Indeed, he observed. “Well, we did dig under our badass sandcastle. And then rescued… Ikkaku… And…” Ichigo lost his track of thought in a matter of seconds, and who could blame him, really, what with Renji’s tongue lapping up his neck as one hell of a distraction. The saltwater still on his tongue, Ichigo looked down, bemused.
"That must be digus - ah…” he leaned his head back against the wall when Renji sucked on the crook of his neck, shutting him up incredibly effectively (with the added bonus of making him weak in the knees). He still looked down, mesmerized by the intense concentration in Renji’s expression, as if he was still doing all this just to discern the taste of his skin. “You crazy bastard.”
Renji locked their eyes, grinning and leaving Ichigo’s soft skin. “’S not that bad,” he uttered over Ichigo’s mouth, before pressing their lips together again and pushing him harder against the wall, pinning his wrists on either side of him. They both moaned when, trying to maintain dominance, Ichigo brought their groins together.
Renji hurriedly maneuvered their way to the bed, keeping them impossibly close, and it was only when Ichigo casually spared a glance at his open window that common sense rushed over him, and he halfheartedly left Renji’s lips. “We can’t do it on the bed, we’re still dirty from the - “
Of course, Renji took the separation from Ichigo’s lips as a cue to start sucking on his collarbone again, and when Ichigo found himself falling to his bed a second later, well, it was completely voluntarily. “I’ll kill you,” he choked out as Renji settled over him, though considering the tremors in his voice - not to mention his body - he doubted he sounded very convincing.
“Yeah, good luck trying that one again,” Renji replied, his voice rough, as it always was when he was turned on. Ichigo felt shivers down his spine, and a pulse of something run through his body. He gripped Renji’s shoulders and flipped them around swiftly, straddling the other’s hips and getting rid of his own shirt.
He smirked down at Renji when he noticed how hungrily the other was staring up at him, his vermilion eyes dark with growing lust that Ichigo felt in his own body, too. He pinned Renji to the mattress roughly and bent lower to ravish his neck, his very pulse, feeling something feral come over him.
When he attempted tracing Renji’s tattoos with his tongue - a habit he had which elicited incredibly affirmative and arousing growls from Renji - he couldn’t keep the frown off his face. “Damn, it is salty,” he noted, and would hold the feral something accountable for what he was about to suggest next. The smirk tugging at his lips seemed to have scared Renji, which in turn, for whatever inexplicable reason, had a certain effect on both their bodies. “Shower?”
Renji was practically skipping on his way down the stairs, grabbing Ichigo’s hand and dragging him off the second the words had left Ichigo’s mouth, his other hand securely holding a tube of lubricant Ichigo kept at his desk drawer.
Once they rushed into the downstairs bathroom Ichigo locked the door behind them, just in case. He turned around to face Renji again and found the other man already naked, and peering inside the shower stall. He would have chuckled at Renji’s impatience, if he hadn’t been overcome by lust and urges and all the things Renji was so fucking good at, to which Renji’s nudity didn’t help one bit.
All of a sudden Renji seemed almost too big for the room, all broad shoulders and prominent biceps and a tight stomach. His tattoos were strewn in flawless disarray, in contrast of his smooth skin, finally fully revealed. Ichigo’s explorative nature might have quieted now, but he was instead filled with undeniable desire. Desire to do, desire to touch.
He couldn’t get rid of his swim trunks fast enough. The water was already running when Ichigo stepped inside the stall, closing the slide door behind him. It was rather spacious, for a shower at least, to which Ichigo was incredibly grateful at the moment. However, that didn’t exactly stop him from stepping closer and wrapping his hands around Renji’s waist, while Renji was busy rinsing his now free hair under the showerhead.
Renji hummed approvingly and leaned back against Ichigo’s chest, his back wet and his muscles more relaxed than usual. Ichigo winced and jumped back, startled when the water stream hit him. “Shit, it’s freezing!” he complained, turning the ‘Hot’ knob to the right and looking up at Renji, who glanced over his shoulder, confused.
Ichigo cocked an eyebrow, trying to keep an amused grin off his lips. “You do know how to work a shower, don’t you?”
Renji huffed. “It’s different back at home!” his voice rang in the confined space, and for a moment Ichigo wondered how other things will sound bouncing back in here. Plus, he couldn’t really keep away from a pouting Renji for too long.
He chuckled and leaned up, kissing Renji softly on the lips as if to reassure him that it was okay he was an idiot. “As long as you don’t go soft on me.”
And oh, he didn’t. Ichigo kissed him again, considerably less softly, and discretely pushed him back so more water could fall on Ichigo and wash all the fucking sand away. He figured Renji’s roaming hands would do the rest of the work.
Ichigo quickly raised his hands to thread through Renji’s hair, and marveled at how soft it was when it was wet, somehow less unruly, tamed. He dared cracking an eye open and noted how gorgeous it looked, too, a lot darker than usual - blood-red twined between Ichigo’s long fingers.
He gasped when Renji’s tongue invaded his mouth again, tasting a lot less of salt and a lot more of Renji, popsicles, and a little of the water that sneaked into their open mouths. Ichigo figured he could get used to it, as the water stream ran down his back, stripping the stiffness off his muscles. His fingers quickly explored this new texture on Renji’s skin; softer, smoother, almost slippery. Not to mention shiny.
Renji chuckled at Ichigo’s fascination, but the sound got caught in his throat when Ichigo pushed him back against the wall and turned to taste his neck again, trailing those inky lines with extra fervor, as if to make up for the lost opportunity from before.
Renji’s left hand quickly settled between Ichigo’s shoulder blades, while the right one curled around Ichigo’s hip, pressing them together again. Ichigo found the way Renji’s rumbled groan echoed in the room utterly entrancing.
"Better?" Renji asked, amusement still laced in his voice though definitely an undercurrent of lust and passion and carnal and Renji.
Ichigo nodded vehemently, running his tongue over Renji’s collarbone and slowly bending lower to his chest. "Definitely. Want more."
Ichigo placed his hands on Renji’s hips and pushed him roughly again, making a wet sound at the impact (though he was definitely more interested in the sounds he was eliciting from Renji. The way they’d always pushed each other against things had its own rewards, despite the occasional bruise). He grinned and followed the intricate tattoos with his tongue, long licks that really did a number on Renji, going by his shivers and loud gasps. When Ichigo finally reached a nipple, he enclosed first his lips and then his teeth over it.
He glanced up and saw Renji leaning his head against the wall, his eyes fluttering closed and his mouth hanging open, a constant thrumming of pleasured groans slipping from between his lips. His skin was slightly flushed, and the droplets of water almost made it even more appealing.
Ichigo secured his hold on Renji’s waist and crouched down, nibbling his way across his torso while keeping his eyes on Renji’s face - attentive to every motion, every incredible sound reverberating off the walls - moving all the way to his hard cock. It was only then that Renji opened his eyes and stared down, and his breath seemed to hitch at the sight he found. Ichigo took perverse pleasure in that, as well.
“W-what’re you doing, Ichigo?” Renji asked in a low, guttural voice, and then seemed annoyed by it and turned the water tap off with a hiss. Ichigo was amazed by both how he’d gotten so used to the streaming of water he forgot all about it, and by how everything sounded different in here.
He grinned, then, and gave the head of Renji’s cock a slow lick, relishing Renji’s surprised moan. “Suckin’ you off. I mean, we can’t have sex here.”
Renji’s hand somehow found its way to Ichigo’s head, and was buried in his wet hair, slightly pulling, as if to get his attention. Like he didn’t already have all of it and then some. “Wanna find out?”
Ichigo didn’t even realize how much he wanted to find out until Renji said it with that voice - the kind that always made Ichigo’s heart skip a beat - until he saw the leer on Renji’s lips, and any further discussion went out the window. “Bring it on.”
He quickly rose again, feeling Renji’s excited smirk mirror on his own lips as he gave Renji’s cock a few strokes. Renji’s hand left his hair and traveled lower again, wasting little (too little, in Ichigo’s mind) time on returning the favor before gripping Ichigo’s hips again and turning him around. Ichigo didn’t even protest, not that he could, with Renji biting his neck playfully and rather harshly, making him groan.
He put one palm against the transparent shower wall and one on Renji’s hip behind him, before looking over his shoulder to see what Renji was doing. He would have complained about Renji putting the lube next to his sisters’ raspberry shampoo - that was, if said lube wasn’t already on Renji’s fingers, which was usually his cue to hold on tight and shut the hell up.
He closed his eyes when he felt Renji creeping closer, pressing against his back and licking up his neck, extremely sensitive after the bites from before. He nipped at the spot behind his ear before flicking his tongue against Ichigo’s earlobe, making him hiss and arch slightly.
Renji ran one finger from Ichigo’s shoulder blades, along his tensing muscles, until finally reaching his ass. “Ya ready, Ichigo?”
Ichigo nodded breathlessly, pressing closer to Renji in hopes he’d get the message. “Ah, fuck,” was all he managed to grit out when Renji’s finger slowly slipped inside him, and then another. Ichigo was very grateful for Renji’s other hand, secured around his chest, because while he was standing up he felt even less stable than he usually did in this position.
He arched again, and rested his head against the shower wall, noting how his moans echoed and formed fumes on the glass. Then he simply had to shut his eyes, because fuck, Renji was biting his ear and moving a lot faster than usual. Ichigo wasn’t sure whether he wanted to tell him to slow down or to do it like this every time. By now he was completely dazed, so talking wasn’t really an option, anyway. The air was thick around them, with fumes and heat and stifling lust, Ichigo couldn’t stand it anymore.
Apparently, neither could Renji, and by the time Ichigo was able to trust himself enough to manage sounds other than throaty groans the fingers were gone, and he heard some wet sounds when Renji pumped his cock once, twice, lathering it with lube.
He didn’t have to ask Ichigo if he was ready again, the electricity running between was enough confirmation, Ichigo thought, as he felt Renji’s cock press against his entrance. He bit his lower lip so hard it bruised when Renji pushed in, unexpectedly slow, stretching him and filling him and everywhere and everything all at once. Renji raggedly moaned his name, and it completely overtook him.
He nearly bit the finger that tugged at his lower lip before he realized it was Renji, and immediately released his lip from between his teeth, almost startled at the moans that poured out the second he did just that. Which was what Renji had probably wanted. He didn’t know, and suddenly, he didn’t much care. His groans echoed and intertwined with Renji’s, much like their hands and bodies and breaths at the moment, as Renji pulled out and then pushed back in, incredibly slow, too slow.
“Why are you - nngh…” He shut his eyes and bowed his head, as if keeping it raised was simply too much effort. “Go harder…”
“Mm,” Renji hummed behind him, bowing his head as well to bite on Ichigo’s ear again. “You know how much I want to,” he whispered, with a smooth thrust of his hips. “But I don’t wanna break anything here.”
“Fuck the shower. You, move faster,” Ichigo grit out and pushed back against Renji swiftly, eliciting a growl from both of them as pleasure shot through him, and he gripped the only thing he could at the moment - Renji’s hair. Knowing for a fact Renji rather liked that was a very good thing, especially in getting what he wanted, or in cases like these, where there was nothing to hold on to but Renji.
Renji picked up his pace, and Ichigo would have grinned victoriously if he could muster facial expressions at the moment. The clutching grip at his hips was the only thing keeping him steady as Renji started thrusting with more force, regretfully leaving his ear to rest his forehead against Ichigo’s shoulder. Ichigo could feel Renji’s feral groans forming there as he could hear them, and his own.
He knew his wobbly feet would soon become a problem, considering the slippery floor, but right now that was the last thing on his mind. He moved back when Renji thrust forward, and it was as though they both tried to keep up with each other as well as not completely lose it. Ichigo wondered briefly if that might have been a lost cause already, as Renji slammed into him roughly now, gaining loud groans of pleasure from Ichigo.
He was momentarily blinded with every thrust, every tug at his hair and nip at his ear, and really, messing with his ear and making those sounds in that place, Renji must have wanted to kill him. Hell of a way to go, too.
Renji seemed to get enough hold of himself to start moving his hands, then, and all thoughts evaporated from Ichigo’s mind. Renji trailed his fingers across Ichigo’s chest in a fluttering motion, almost hesitant; as if he was too far gone to know what he was doing, let alone to decide what he was going to do next.
Good thing he had dead-on instincts, Ichigo thought when Renji’s fingers found his nipple and squeezed, hard. He let out a sharp growl and then bit his lip again, which had less to do with not being too loud than it had to do with not coming right then.
He gave Renji’s hair a particularly harsh tug in reciprocation, though it was honestly quite selfish, as what he really wanted to do was make Renji moan in his ear again. Somehow, it seemed he had spurred Renji on further (or maybe that was his plan all along? Ichigo was fuzzy on the details in his own mind; he was fuzzy on anything besides the pleasure soaring in his veins and the cock plundering inside him, harder and harder and fuck).
“Wanted faster, Ichigo?” Renji asked him in a rough, strained voice, and if this were their first time Ichigo would have come merely because of the way his name rumbled out of Renji’s lips, amplified by the echoes and his heart hammering in his ears.
He nearly screamed when he felt sharp teeth sinking into his shoulder, making his arch immediately, which really did something miraculous as far as angles went because - “Fuck, Renji!”
There was no holding back his voice now, no holding back anything as he couldn’t even be sure to stay on his feet when intense pleasure rocketed through his veins, leaving him completely delirious and breathless and barely hanging on. Renji was merciless as he picked up his cue and thrust harder than before at that angle, again and again, his careless biting interrupted only by harsh groans each time their damp bodies slammed together, fitting perfectly.
They were both completely dazed by then, and it really wasn’t long before Ichigo felt the coils of euphoria in his stomach unwind, bursting violently and rapturously all through his thrashing body in one amazing instant, burning hot and heavy within him, until finally running out.
He vaguely registered Renji still thrusting into him, fast and erratic, and managed to snap his hips back a few times to push Renji over the edge completely. He leaned into and welcomed the feral biting accompanying Renji’s orgasm, not to mention the sounds of complete and utter loss of control he’d made, which knocked the breath out of Ichigo, as if he could spare it in the first place.
Ichigo found himself supporting some of Renji’s weight as the man slumped over his back, but the weight was somewhat comforting and Ichigo was too numb to do anything about it, anyway. It took them a while, but at long last they detached, shaky legs and even shakier breaths.
Ichigo attempted stretching his strained muscles, but the confined space made it difficult, especially with a fucking giant standing next to him, running his fingers through his hair with closed eyes. When Ichigo made a displeased sound at the mess all over his stomach, he spotted Renji cracking an eye open, and then smirking.
“What’re you so smug about?” Ichigo asked suspiciously.
“Had an idea.” Renji reached down to the shower tap and turned it on, and Ichigo felt a blissful current washing all the evidence of they’d just done in his family’s shower away, not to mention the relief it gave to his body. The room was quickly filling with steam, and he chuckled when Renji’s hand reached out to his.
“Need help,” Renji muttered, voice still hoarse. Ichigo couldn’t stop a shiver making its way down his spine. “My hair.”
Ichigo chuckled again and stepped closer. “Gladly. You big girl.”
Renji growled dangerously but didn’t shove him away, and Ichigo leaned up and kissed his neck, for some reason. “Next time, we’re having sex right on the beach.”
Renji laughed, his shoulders rolling and the corded muscles of his back flexing gracefully and yet not graceful at all. “Next time.”
Once they were finally finished, and Ichigo looked down at the water running under their feet, he knew this was either the cleanest sex he’s ever had, or the dirtiest shower.
END