Urahara Kisuke had always found that having fun was a very large priority.
In fact, it usually took precedence over things like paperwork, and of course business, which was usually the cause of paperwork anyway.
At any rate, he usually had others to handle those less important things so he icould/i concentrate on the far more pressing matter of enjoying himself.
And when Kurosaki Ichigo had needed training, he knew that it would be one of those things that became important.
Really, the adolescent was so fun to antagonise. All it took was a silly phrase, some outrageous announcement, and he would go as red as his adorable hair and shout and holler and be oh such a blast!
And really, his mouth was quite so delightedly foul. He had such a lack of imagination when it came to insults.
Urahara often found himself idly wondering what that rude mouth would taste like – never seriously, of course, but the idea was an amusing one none-the-less so he allowed it to occupy him from time to time.
…But then Ichigo began to stay the night.
It was purely platonic, of course.
Indeed, he had already stayed the night before – the rather disastrous attempt to take on the sixth squad's captain, turning in to a hollow, fighting the shopkeeper himself; all of those things usually required an overnight stint to recover from.
What made him curious, however, was that the redhead was beginning to stay the night for no apparent reason like critical injuries, any more than wishing to spend time with his wonderful self, of course.
He would pop around right after supper, and sit at the rounded table expectantly, and Urahara never questioned it, for Ichigo was fun to be around.
Urahara would ask him horribly personal questions, and Ichigo would respond with shouts of "Pervert!" and "Bastard!" and the blonde would howl with laughter and ask him playfully if he could not perhaps come up with more original insults because he had been called those things many times before the teen were even born.
And then Ichigo would usually insult his fashion sense and his age, all in the one breath (which was quite impressive) and Urahara would laugh again, scratching his unshaven chin with glee.
But despite his offence at the shop owner's crude insinuations and outrageous ideas, the young man never left. He even seemed to relish their conversations.
The adolescent really was a hoot.
…And very interesting to look at, Urahara had noticed, and that was more than fine by him.
Ichigo was by no means beautiful, Urahara knew, but his dark, honey eyes burned with an intensity that was fascinating. His frown was adorable, which was a relief, because he rarely ever smiled, and his hair looked as if it had never been brushed, which was probably the case, but it was a very lovely colour.
He was all angles and harsh lines – he had no softness about him, but the blonde didn't mind that at all.
After all, he was a lot of fun.
And Urahara thought that it just might be enjoyable if the redhead's nighttime rendezvous were no longer purely platonic. After all, nothing like a bit of sex to make things interesting!
And so, on one of those nights that Kurosaki Ichigo was planning to stay the night, when his long legs were crossed Indian style underneath the table and his elbows rested on it with an entertaining lack of manners, the blonde had decided that he was right and that it was something that could not be passed up.
And so he had leaned over, resting his knee upon the hard wood and swooped his cane behind the taut, muscular neck as he captured those perpetually scowling lips with his own, effectively stemming the rough demands of what exactly was he doing?
His resistance was short lived, but emphatic. He pushed frantically at slender, broad shoulders and gasped out curses as he squirmed and ineffectually attempted to remove both the cane and that mocking mouth.
And then the older man slid his tongue gently over the crease of chapped lips, and the adolescent went completely still. A gentle, slim hand trailed along his cheek and cupped his jaw and the tongue came again and it was obvious that Ichigo was stumped.
He didn't seem quite sure what was happening, or indeed what was supposed to happen, and his naiveté and utter shock were quite heady and endearing, all at the same time, and so Urahara coaxed him to open his mouth, bidding it do so with his warm wet tongue and a gentle pressure on the firm chin with his thumb.
And then he did, and Urahara passed those slightly rough lips and in to a mouth that was unbelievably hot and soft, and he wondered if the heat was due to the tea that the adolescent had been drinking, or whether it was just the intensity of him that did this.
Curiously he wondered if other parts of Ichigo's body would be as hot as his mouth was, and he felt himself twitch with eagerness and lust.
Then he felt a shy tongue meet his, and he acknowledged it with a slide and a firming of grip, and then Ichigo was kissing him with all of the inexperience and awkwardness that only a teen could bring to such a situation, but it was sexy and exciting all the same.
And so the boundary had been crossed, and the shopkeeper found no need to keep the table between the two of them anymore. He managed with some difficulty to manoeuvre himself around to the adolescent, and then over him without actually breaking the locking of lips.
As Ichigo grabbed him in his passion and pulled him close, Urahara's loins became molten with the need to take the young man, to hear more of those needy whimpers and slight moans, and to feel the hands currently gripping his shoulders to dig their blunt nails in to the flesh of his back.
It did not take him long to discover that the redhead had sensitive ears, and he chuckled, and murmured something filthy in there even as he licked the shell, just to hear Ichigo curse, but the reaction he got was unprecedented (and quite delightful).
The groin that was pressing against his thigh had jerked up, and Ichigo ihad/i sworn, but it was inside of a deep groan that had rumbled in his chest, and the young mouth attacked his with renewed fervour while his hands had exasperatingly knocked the blonde's hat off in their obstinate desire to tangle in his hair.
Urahara was preoccupied with this new development, and grinned against the dizzyingly wanton mouth beneath his before taking full advantage of his tidbit of knowledge.
And so it had begun.
The adolescent would come to the shop of an evening, as he usually did, and Urahara would inevitably amuse himself at the young man's expense, and then, after the six other occupants of the shop either retired for the night, or were rudely told to go away, the mashing of lips and other body parts commenced until both of them, or at least Ichigo, were sated and then they too, would retire.
Who ever knew that the adolescent could be ithis/i much fun?
It was the second last night before Ichigo was leaving to rescue the pretty little Kuchiki that the shopkeeper had decided to introduce something new to their routine of going to Urahara's bedroom, making out, rutting and then the occasional oral sex on the older man's part (Ichigo had point blank refused when Urahara had suggested returning the favour).
Ichigo had at first been confused, then disgusted, but Urahara had not backed down, and so a small but incredibly entertaining fight had broken out, which Ichigo inevitably lost, and so it had begun again.
Ichigo's face, which had been scrunched up in disgust and discomfort at the first lube slickened finger, softened slowly to a look of mingled worry and confusion and maybe a slight curiosity, and Urahara took care to keep his interest piqued with his lips and tongue and the other hand that was not currently prodding at Ichigo's inside with first one finger, and then two. And then as he slowly and inexorably manipulated the teen's prostate the frown had eventually disappeared, and the open mouth dripped whimpers and then outright moans which were muffled by a ruddy hand before Urahara's much paler one had drawn it away.
And then the teen had begged for more, and Urahara could not help the small and needy sound that had escaped his own lips at such a delicious notion, and he added another finger, and Ichigo was crying out, his face screwed up in pleasure and need and the smallest vestige of discomfort that remained.
Urahara had slid completely on top of him then, lubricating himself with a free hand and removing his digits. He poised himself at Ichigo's entrance, and did his best to soothe the flicker of fear that had appeared amongst the desire.
He slid in slowly, in increments, allowing time for adjustment and acceptance and then, when he was fully sheathed, he merely waited.
Finally the teen had cracked open one eye and demanded to know what the hell he was waiting for, and it this was it he was going to kick the shit out of him.
And Urahara had laughed then, a rich throaty laugh, and began to thrust while the young man beneath him buried his face in his neck to muffle his whimpers and husky cries, and dug his blunt fingernails into the blonde's back much as he imagined that he would.
What the older man had not anticipated though was the sinking of teeth in to the tendons of his shoulder as the redhead reached his completion. Not that he minded.
Whoever knew that the little strawberry could be ever so much fun?
And as Ichigo left to go to the world beyond this one two days after their first coupling, Urahara found that really, he didn't mind, because it had been fun, and fun was what Urahara was all about.
Although, he found that he hoped that the younger man would come back and occupy him some more, and really, that was okay as well.
Fin.