Sparrer in crime [PG; Urahara/Yoruichi]
Title: Sparrer in crime
By: worblehat
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Urahara/Yoruichi
Rating: PG
Summary: The beginnings of a long-lasting friendship formed through violence.
Notes: Not really a pairing-based fic. It's got hints, if you're looking for those.
Word Count: 1,057
The first thing Urahara Kisuke learned about Shihoin Yoruichi was that her kicks were something he never wanted to experience again. The second thing he learned was that her kicks often landed frighteningly close to his groin, especially if he was inconspicuously trying to catch a glimpse of her tightly-bound chest.
Still, she seemed to enjoy their talks, and when he suggested sparring, her eyes lit up and her lips quirked upward as she asked when and where - adding that it would be nice to finally land one good kick where Urahara needed it most. This was after he'd "accidentally" dripped oyster sauce over her shirt and she'd had to tie it up surreptitiously, earning her more than just a few interested looks.
Several people had learned about Yoruichi's kicks that day.
"So, this is the place, huh?" she asked, looking around at the place he'd built underground. Urahara merely watched her, light hair falling partway in his eyes. Yoruichi's ability with shunpo had improved tremendously at an early age - something he was intending to learn and modify through their late afternoons together.
She moved easily over the small cliffs of rock, landing with a fierce smile in front of him. "How long did it take you to make this?" she asked.
His eyes flashed with interest at the tone in her voice: it spoke of challenge, but also appreciation. And appreciation wasn't something he often - well, ever - had experienced from her. "I don't give away all my secrets on the first date, Yoruichi-san."
Her leg twitched. "...Date?"
"Sparring date!" he corrected, laughing a little nervously - taking a step back as a last-minute precaution. "Just a social gathering of intimate friends, to-"
"Intimate?" She began to advance slowly.
"Oi," said Urahara, eyes widening; taking one more step back. "We haven't started yet."
"I'll show you intimate!" she growled, lunging towards him, landing a shallow kick to the back of Urahara's thigh. He yelped - that had been too close! - and lowered his head, hiding a smirk. Jumping backward, he turned around to face her from the nearest rock, unsurprised when she used shunpo in an effort to sneak up behind him.
Urahara's eyes gleamed as he shunpo'd behind her. "Is this what you had in mind?" he asked, fingers slipping down to her exposed thigh and squeezing. He withdrew completely to a spot several yards away, expecting the attempted elbow to his groin less than two seconds later.
She turned around, hands crossed in front of her chest as she glared. "Pervert."
"So?"
"I came here to spar," she said. "If all you're going to do is try to grope me, I'm leaving."
"Hm," said Urahara, eyes serious as he watched her. "Yoruichi-san?"
"What?" she answered, annoyed.
"You're blushing."
"...You're dead," she said, attacking.
---
Weeks passed easily as they trained, the practice cave resounding with blasts every now and again. Yoruichi's attacks began to branch out - something that was both a relief and also a terror to Urahara, since it meant less kicks to his more valuable places; it also meant new and intriguing attacks aimed at the same place, in varying combinations.
"I'm beginning to think you're sexually repressed, Yoruichi-san," he said, smirk full on his lips as he dodged one of her punches.
"Shows how much you know," she said, shunpo quickly guiding her behind Urahara. Her hand slipped down to his thigh and she squeezed - not harshly, the way he'd expected, but intimately, in a way that heated his stomach and thoughts.
She pulled away, laughing. "The look on your face-"
"It's not nice to tease," Urahara complained, a faint blush on his cheeks. Whatever he'd been expecting her to do...it hadn't been that.
"Nice?" she scoffed. "Since when do you care about that?"
"Hm," he answered evasively.
Her brow furrowed.
Without a word, they attacked at the same time, almost as if they'd coordinated it. Yoruichi's normal taunts were silenced, her eyes focused and serious. Her intensity grew and was matched by Urahara's movements, reading through her movements with ease. An hour passed, broke by the twin sound of fists meeting stomachs and both coughed, blood trickling down their lips.
"Good shot," Urahara admitted somewhat begrudgingly.
Yoruichi merely grunted, doubling over to sit down, spitting and wiping her mouth of blood. Urahara spit off to the side and sat next to her. He blinked as she leaned over, wiping at the line of blood on his chin with her thumb, cleaning it away. She laid back on her hands, looking up at the fake ceiling and sighed.
"I worry about you sometimes, Kisuke," she said quietly.
"Worry?" he repeated blankly, sitting cross-legged. "Why?"
"That mind of yours..." she said. She turned, eyes trained on him. "You can invent anything."
"Hm."
She turned to look at the ceiling once more; she'd slowly gotten used to Urahara's unwillingness to talk about certain things. "I think one day you're going to make something you'll wish you could un-make," she explained.
Urahara considered the ground in front of him with hooded eyes. "What would you do if I did?"
The silence that followed made him look up, eyes widening when he felt her head land softly on his shoulder. She sighed.
"Follow you, stupid."
"...Ah," he said, briefly at a loss for what to say. He looked down, smiling faintly. "I won't-"
"Don't make a promise we both know you're going to break," she interrupted. Her voice was serious, making him stop. It was then that Urahara belatedly realised their first training session had been more than Yoruichi wanting to spar. It had been her acceptance of a friendship she was aware would cost her something in the long run - something that meant a lot to her, even if she didn't know what it was.
And yet, in spite of all that...she'd still accepted.
He smiled faintly, head tilting slightly to rest against hers. They sat together, sweat and dirt and blood settling on their skin uncomfortably; neither moving.
Finally, Urahara spoke. "You really do have nice legs," he said, apology evident in his tone despite the content of his words.
Yoruichi closed her eyes. "I know," she said.
By: worblehat
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Urahara/Yoruichi
Rating: PG
Summary: The beginnings of a long-lasting friendship formed through violence.
Notes: Not really a pairing-based fic. It's got hints, if you're looking for those.
Word Count: 1,057
The first thing Urahara Kisuke learned about Shihoin Yoruichi was that her kicks were something he never wanted to experience again. The second thing he learned was that her kicks often landed frighteningly close to his groin, especially if he was inconspicuously trying to catch a glimpse of her tightly-bound chest.
Still, she seemed to enjoy their talks, and when he suggested sparring, her eyes lit up and her lips quirked upward as she asked when and where - adding that it would be nice to finally land one good kick where Urahara needed it most. This was after he'd "accidentally" dripped oyster sauce over her shirt and she'd had to tie it up surreptitiously, earning her more than just a few interested looks.
Several people had learned about Yoruichi's kicks that day.
"So, this is the place, huh?" she asked, looking around at the place he'd built underground. Urahara merely watched her, light hair falling partway in his eyes. Yoruichi's ability with shunpo had improved tremendously at an early age - something he was intending to learn and modify through their late afternoons together.
She moved easily over the small cliffs of rock, landing with a fierce smile in front of him. "How long did it take you to make this?" she asked.
His eyes flashed with interest at the tone in her voice: it spoke of challenge, but also appreciation. And appreciation wasn't something he often - well, ever - had experienced from her. "I don't give away all my secrets on the first date, Yoruichi-san."
Her leg twitched. "...Date?"
"Sparring date!" he corrected, laughing a little nervously - taking a step back as a last-minute precaution. "Just a social gathering of intimate friends, to-"
"Intimate?" She began to advance slowly.
"Oi," said Urahara, eyes widening; taking one more step back. "We haven't started yet."
"I'll show you intimate!" she growled, lunging towards him, landing a shallow kick to the back of Urahara's thigh. He yelped - that had been too close! - and lowered his head, hiding a smirk. Jumping backward, he turned around to face her from the nearest rock, unsurprised when she used shunpo in an effort to sneak up behind him.
Urahara's eyes gleamed as he shunpo'd behind her. "Is this what you had in mind?" he asked, fingers slipping down to her exposed thigh and squeezing. He withdrew completely to a spot several yards away, expecting the attempted elbow to his groin less than two seconds later.
She turned around, hands crossed in front of her chest as she glared. "Pervert."
"So?"
"I came here to spar," she said. "If all you're going to do is try to grope me, I'm leaving."
"Hm," said Urahara, eyes serious as he watched her. "Yoruichi-san?"
"What?" she answered, annoyed.
"You're blushing."
"...You're dead," she said, attacking.
---
Weeks passed easily as they trained, the practice cave resounding with blasts every now and again. Yoruichi's attacks began to branch out - something that was both a relief and also a terror to Urahara, since it meant less kicks to his more valuable places; it also meant new and intriguing attacks aimed at the same place, in varying combinations.
"I'm beginning to think you're sexually repressed, Yoruichi-san," he said, smirk full on his lips as he dodged one of her punches.
"Shows how much you know," she said, shunpo quickly guiding her behind Urahara. Her hand slipped down to his thigh and she squeezed - not harshly, the way he'd expected, but intimately, in a way that heated his stomach and thoughts.
She pulled away, laughing. "The look on your face-"
"It's not nice to tease," Urahara complained, a faint blush on his cheeks. Whatever he'd been expecting her to do...it hadn't been that.
"Nice?" she scoffed. "Since when do you care about that?"
"Hm," he answered evasively.
Her brow furrowed.
Without a word, they attacked at the same time, almost as if they'd coordinated it. Yoruichi's normal taunts were silenced, her eyes focused and serious. Her intensity grew and was matched by Urahara's movements, reading through her movements with ease. An hour passed, broke by the twin sound of fists meeting stomachs and both coughed, blood trickling down their lips.
"Good shot," Urahara admitted somewhat begrudgingly.
Yoruichi merely grunted, doubling over to sit down, spitting and wiping her mouth of blood. Urahara spit off to the side and sat next to her. He blinked as she leaned over, wiping at the line of blood on his chin with her thumb, cleaning it away. She laid back on her hands, looking up at the fake ceiling and sighed.
"I worry about you sometimes, Kisuke," she said quietly.
"Worry?" he repeated blankly, sitting cross-legged. "Why?"
"That mind of yours..." she said. She turned, eyes trained on him. "You can invent anything."
"Hm."
She turned to look at the ceiling once more; she'd slowly gotten used to Urahara's unwillingness to talk about certain things. "I think one day you're going to make something you'll wish you could un-make," she explained.
Urahara considered the ground in front of him with hooded eyes. "What would you do if I did?"
The silence that followed made him look up, eyes widening when he felt her head land softly on his shoulder. She sighed.
"Follow you, stupid."
"...Ah," he said, briefly at a loss for what to say. He looked down, smiling faintly. "I won't-"
"Don't make a promise we both know you're going to break," she interrupted. Her voice was serious, making him stop. It was then that Urahara belatedly realised their first training session had been more than Yoruichi wanting to spar. It had been her acceptance of a friendship she was aware would cost her something in the long run - something that meant a lot to her, even if she didn't know what it was.
And yet, in spite of all that...she'd still accepted.
He smiled faintly, head tilting slightly to rest against hers. They sat together, sweat and dirt and blood settling on their skin uncomfortably; neither moving.
Finally, Urahara spoke. "You really do have nice legs," he said, apology evident in his tone despite the content of his words.
Yoruichi closed her eyes. "I know," she said.