Fic: The Fragile Art of Existence. Ikkaku/Kira
Title: The Fragile Art of Existence
Author: winteraconite
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Madarame Ikkaku/Kira Izuru because I can't write ShuuKira all the time
Notes/Warnings: An entry for sanbantaifuku's first fanwork contest! I decided on IkkaKira this time because all the entries were ShuuKira. Pathetic utilization of the prompt "all but a mere illusion". Also, written for prompt #43: Gentle over at 50scenes. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its sexy characters. I just borrow them and make them do my nasty bidding. They like it. A lot. >:) Title snagged from Control Denied.
Ikkaku likes to roll over to lie on Izuru’s side of the bed when he wakes up in the morning, to laze around under the patch of sunlight spilling through the open window. Izuru always wakes up and leaves the bed early because he gets restless and fidgets in the quiet and doesn’t want to wake Ikkaku up. Ikkaku is glad because as much as he loves the feel of the blond’s body against his, he likes to soak in his lover’s warmth and scent that still linger in the sheets once in a while.
Besides, Izuru is always in the house when Ikkaku wakes up. He never leaves until the other is awake.
So it’s not too surprising that when Ikkaku rolls over in bed his cheek comes in contact with something soft and warm and he opens his eyes to find Izuru sitting up with his back against the wall, reading a book. The blond looks down at him and smiles before turning back to pages of his book. Ikkaku yawns, stretches his back, and kisses Izuru’s thigh through the blankets before settling his head comfortably on the blond’s lap.
It’s quiet in the house, the only sounds he could hear being the chirping of the birds from outside and the soft rustle of paper whenever Izuru turned a page. He’s hard-pressed not to doze off. He groans loudly and stretches then starts to get up, kissing the blond lightly on the lips when Izuru looks up at him.
“Breakfast,” he says and gently pushes the younger shinigami back down when Izuru moves to get up. “’s on me.” He grins and Izuru smiles and starts reading again.
The sweet scent of his favorite tea wafts into the room as soon as he opens their bedroom door, meaning that Izuru had somehow gotten up and left the room without him knowing it. Ikkaku shakes his head. There was a time he would wake up at the slightest noise but now his lover could probably prepare a full course meal and Ikkaku would sleep through it until Izuru came back into the room and gently prodded him awake. Zaraki-taichou is going to have him flogged if he finds out.
He moves through the kitchen almost mechanically, bringing out the pots and pans, making sure he has a kettle of Izuru’s favorite tea over the stove. He tosses an egg onto a frying pan and turns to find some fruit to slice up, glancing up momentarily in the direction of the bedroom at Kira. His breath hitches in his throat.
Izuru is still sitting in bed with his nose buried in a book, fine golden brows drawn together in concentration, his legs stretched out in front of him. Sunlight crests over the windowsill to land on his shoulders, not hot enough to be uncomfortable but bright enough that it makes Izuru’s blond hair light up.
Five years into their relationship, he has rarely seen Izuru this way: so tranquil and at peace as though without a care in the world.
Izuru shifts where he sits and his bare feet peek out from under the edge of blanket. Before Ikkaku knows it he is back in the room, on the futon, gently placing the blond’s feet on his lap.
Izuru blinks at his sudden return and makes to pull his feet back but Ikkaku doesn’t let go. He opens his mouth to say something but whatever it was only comes out in a soft exhalation of breath when he feels Ikkaku’s fingers move. He sighs and leans back against the wall. “Feels good,” he murmurs softly and smiles and Ikkaku’s feels his heart skip a beat.
Izuru’s feet are warm in his hands and he continues massaging them, keeping his eyes on his lover’s face the entire time. Izuru’s eyelids flutter and lets his book falls to the side with his thumb still wedged in the page he had been reading. A soft sigh leaves his lips and Ikkaku skates his hands over the blond’s shins, up his thighs, before cradling Izuru’s face in his hands and kissing him deeply.
He closes his eyes when Izuru hums against his lips and eases up a little bit, moving his lips gently over the blond’s. Ikkaku isn’t usually this tender, this gentle. He would never hurt the younger one but tenderness isn’t his system, having grown up the way he did. Besides, Izuru doesn’t like to be treated as if he’s going to break. He can take what Ikkaku gives him.
But still…
“This is new,” Izuru whispers softly once they break apart. It isn’t a complaint, only a silent inquiry about the bald shinigami’s behaviour.
“Is it?” Ikkaku grins sheepishly and scratches the back of his head. Then his mood shifts and he slips a hand into Izuru’s yukata, kissing him again with more passion this time.
“Was just thinkin’,” he says after a while, tracing idle patterns on the blond’s stomach with a finger. “I’m damn lucky to have ya.”
He knows it’s the last thing Izuru had expected him to say when the blond frowns. He concentrates on the way the blond’s skin feels under his hand, on the steady rise and fall of his chest, working his way up to skim along his clavicle then back down his chest until he reaches the skin just above the first rib and stops. Izuru’s eyes widen and he starts to tremble. Slow as melting ice Ikkaku traces the long puckered scar just below Izuru’s heart. Izuru gasps and shies away from the touch, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Ikkaku never touches that part of him.
When their eyes meet, Ikkaku knows the blond understands.
“Ikakku…” Izuru begins but he cuts him off.
“It just feels…damn it, what the word? Surreal?” he says. “Like…this is all some kind ‘o…some kind ‘o…”
“Illusion?" the blond supplies helpfully.
Ikkaku shakes his head. “Nah. Like this is all some kind ‘o…dream, y’know?” The bald shinigami moves to lie down on his back so that he’s staring at the ceiling with his head on his lover’s lap.
“I can still see it in my head,” Ikkaku admits. “That bastard stabbin’ ya from behind.” He feels Izuru tense but pays it no mind. “Ya almost died, ya know that? Took both me an’ Hisagi to drag ya back to those kids from the fourth.”
Izuru nods but doesn’t say a word. They have never talked about this before and now he knows why. He doesn’t like remembering the fear, remembering the pain from that day. He has come a long way since then but still…it’s a painful memory that haunts him from the back of his mind.
He looks down at Ikkaku and remembers the bald shinigami has had his own near brush with death. He can still remember the hulking form of that monstrous arrancar standing over Ikkaku’s broken and bloodied form. They hadn’t been together then, hadn’t even really been friends. But when he thinks about it now it scares him how they could so easily lose one another. He shakes the memory clear from his head and focuses on his lover’s words.
“Ya didn’t wake up for days,” Ikkaku continues. “We thought ya were a goner. But hell, talk about a will to live.” He chuckles softly but his voice is slightly hoarse.
Izuru slowly slips his hand into Ikkaku’s and squeezes it tightly before loosening his hold and just keeping it there.
“S’what I meant,” Ikkaku finally finishes. “Feels like a dream sometimes. ‘Cause, ya know, it’s too good to be true and all.” He says lamely then shifts on the futon to look at Izuru.
He’s surprised to see that the blond’s eyes are over-bright.
“It’s not,” Izuru says softly and moves so that he is straddling Ikkaku’s stomach. He leans in and kisses him full on the mouth, slowly but with as much passion as he could muster, hoping to allay the bald shinigami’s distress as well as his own. “It’s not a dream or an illusion,” he says when he pulls back, moving with Ikkaku when the bald shinigami moves to sit up with him still on his lap. “I’m here, Ikkaku,” he whispers then kisses Ikkaku again and again until the older shinigami’s arms wrap around him to hold him tight.
“Don’t ever fucking die,” he hears Ikkaku grit out into the crook of his neck and Izuru returns his lover’s embrace ten-fold.
“I love you, too,” he whispers and kisses the top of Ikkaku’s head.
END.
A/N: I neglected to mention that this is the first time I've written anything substantial on this pairing. Criticism is welcome (provided that you aren't being mean about it *pout*) but be gentle, yes? X3
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My Master Fic Index here.
My 30_romances Fic List here.
My 50scenes Prompt Table here.
My 7snogs Prompt Table here.
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x-posted: 50scenes, all_for_bleach, asterisk_plus, bleach_yaoi, kurosaki_clinic, and sanbantaifuku.
Author: winteraconite
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Madarame Ikkaku/Kira Izuru because I can't write ShuuKira all the time
Notes/Warnings: An entry for sanbantaifuku's first fanwork contest! I decided on IkkaKira this time because all the entries were ShuuKira. Pathetic utilization of the prompt "all but a mere illusion". Also, written for prompt #43: Gentle over at 50scenes. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its sexy characters. I just borrow them and make them do my nasty bidding. They like it. A lot. >:) Title snagged from Control Denied.
Ikkaku likes to roll over to lie on Izuru’s side of the bed when he wakes up in the morning, to laze around under the patch of sunlight spilling through the open window. Izuru always wakes up and leaves the bed early because he gets restless and fidgets in the quiet and doesn’t want to wake Ikkaku up. Ikkaku is glad because as much as he loves the feel of the blond’s body against his, he likes to soak in his lover’s warmth and scent that still linger in the sheets once in a while.
Besides, Izuru is always in the house when Ikkaku wakes up. He never leaves until the other is awake.
So it’s not too surprising that when Ikkaku rolls over in bed his cheek comes in contact with something soft and warm and he opens his eyes to find Izuru sitting up with his back against the wall, reading a book. The blond looks down at him and smiles before turning back to pages of his book. Ikkaku yawns, stretches his back, and kisses Izuru’s thigh through the blankets before settling his head comfortably on the blond’s lap.
It’s quiet in the house, the only sounds he could hear being the chirping of the birds from outside and the soft rustle of paper whenever Izuru turned a page. He’s hard-pressed not to doze off. He groans loudly and stretches then starts to get up, kissing the blond lightly on the lips when Izuru looks up at him.
“Breakfast,” he says and gently pushes the younger shinigami back down when Izuru moves to get up. “’s on me.” He grins and Izuru smiles and starts reading again.
The sweet scent of his favorite tea wafts into the room as soon as he opens their bedroom door, meaning that Izuru had somehow gotten up and left the room without him knowing it. Ikkaku shakes his head. There was a time he would wake up at the slightest noise but now his lover could probably prepare a full course meal and Ikkaku would sleep through it until Izuru came back into the room and gently prodded him awake. Zaraki-taichou is going to have him flogged if he finds out.
He moves through the kitchen almost mechanically, bringing out the pots and pans, making sure he has a kettle of Izuru’s favorite tea over the stove. He tosses an egg onto a frying pan and turns to find some fruit to slice up, glancing up momentarily in the direction of the bedroom at Kira. His breath hitches in his throat.
Izuru is still sitting in bed with his nose buried in a book, fine golden brows drawn together in concentration, his legs stretched out in front of him. Sunlight crests over the windowsill to land on his shoulders, not hot enough to be uncomfortable but bright enough that it makes Izuru’s blond hair light up.
Five years into their relationship, he has rarely seen Izuru this way: so tranquil and at peace as though without a care in the world.
Izuru shifts where he sits and his bare feet peek out from under the edge of blanket. Before Ikkaku knows it he is back in the room, on the futon, gently placing the blond’s feet on his lap.
Izuru blinks at his sudden return and makes to pull his feet back but Ikkaku doesn’t let go. He opens his mouth to say something but whatever it was only comes out in a soft exhalation of breath when he feels Ikkaku’s fingers move. He sighs and leans back against the wall. “Feels good,” he murmurs softly and smiles and Ikkaku’s feels his heart skip a beat.
Izuru’s feet are warm in his hands and he continues massaging them, keeping his eyes on his lover’s face the entire time. Izuru’s eyelids flutter and lets his book falls to the side with his thumb still wedged in the page he had been reading. A soft sigh leaves his lips and Ikkaku skates his hands over the blond’s shins, up his thighs, before cradling Izuru’s face in his hands and kissing him deeply.
He closes his eyes when Izuru hums against his lips and eases up a little bit, moving his lips gently over the blond’s. Ikkaku isn’t usually this tender, this gentle. He would never hurt the younger one but tenderness isn’t his system, having grown up the way he did. Besides, Izuru doesn’t like to be treated as if he’s going to break. He can take what Ikkaku gives him.
But still…
“This is new,” Izuru whispers softly once they break apart. It isn’t a complaint, only a silent inquiry about the bald shinigami’s behaviour.
“Is it?” Ikkaku grins sheepishly and scratches the back of his head. Then his mood shifts and he slips a hand into Izuru’s yukata, kissing him again with more passion this time.
“Was just thinkin’,” he says after a while, tracing idle patterns on the blond’s stomach with a finger. “I’m damn lucky to have ya.”
He knows it’s the last thing Izuru had expected him to say when the blond frowns. He concentrates on the way the blond’s skin feels under his hand, on the steady rise and fall of his chest, working his way up to skim along his clavicle then back down his chest until he reaches the skin just above the first rib and stops. Izuru’s eyes widen and he starts to tremble. Slow as melting ice Ikkaku traces the long puckered scar just below Izuru’s heart. Izuru gasps and shies away from the touch, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Ikkaku never touches that part of him.
When their eyes meet, Ikkaku knows the blond understands.
“Ikakku…” Izuru begins but he cuts him off.
“It just feels…damn it, what the word? Surreal?” he says. “Like…this is all some kind ‘o…some kind ‘o…”
“Illusion?" the blond supplies helpfully.
Ikkaku shakes his head. “Nah. Like this is all some kind ‘o…dream, y’know?” The bald shinigami moves to lie down on his back so that he’s staring at the ceiling with his head on his lover’s lap.
“I can still see it in my head,” Ikkaku admits. “That bastard stabbin’ ya from behind.” He feels Izuru tense but pays it no mind. “Ya almost died, ya know that? Took both me an’ Hisagi to drag ya back to those kids from the fourth.”
Izuru nods but doesn’t say a word. They have never talked about this before and now he knows why. He doesn’t like remembering the fear, remembering the pain from that day. He has come a long way since then but still…it’s a painful memory that haunts him from the back of his mind.
He looks down at Ikkaku and remembers the bald shinigami has had his own near brush with death. He can still remember the hulking form of that monstrous arrancar standing over Ikkaku’s broken and bloodied form. They hadn’t been together then, hadn’t even really been friends. But when he thinks about it now it scares him how they could so easily lose one another. He shakes the memory clear from his head and focuses on his lover’s words.
“Ya didn’t wake up for days,” Ikkaku continues. “We thought ya were a goner. But hell, talk about a will to live.” He chuckles softly but his voice is slightly hoarse.
Izuru slowly slips his hand into Ikkaku’s and squeezes it tightly before loosening his hold and just keeping it there.
“S’what I meant,” Ikkaku finally finishes. “Feels like a dream sometimes. ‘Cause, ya know, it’s too good to be true and all.” He says lamely then shifts on the futon to look at Izuru.
He’s surprised to see that the blond’s eyes are over-bright.
“It’s not,” Izuru says softly and moves so that he is straddling Ikkaku’s stomach. He leans in and kisses him full on the mouth, slowly but with as much passion as he could muster, hoping to allay the bald shinigami’s distress as well as his own. “It’s not a dream or an illusion,” he says when he pulls back, moving with Ikkaku when the bald shinigami moves to sit up with him still on his lap. “I’m here, Ikkaku,” he whispers then kisses Ikkaku again and again until the older shinigami’s arms wrap around him to hold him tight.
“Don’t ever fucking die,” he hears Ikkaku grit out into the crook of his neck and Izuru returns his lover’s embrace ten-fold.
“I love you, too,” he whispers and kisses the top of Ikkaku’s head.
END.
A/N: I neglected to mention that this is the first time I've written anything substantial on this pairing. Criticism is welcome (provided that you aren't being mean about it *pout*) but be gentle, yes? X3
--------------------------------------------------------
My Master Fic Index here.
My 30_romances Fic List here.
My 50scenes Prompt Table here.
My 7snogs Prompt Table here.
--------------------------------------------------------
x-posted: 50scenes, all_for_bleach, asterisk_plus, bleach_yaoi, kurosaki_clinic, and sanbantaifuku.