I usually write more non-fiction/dissertation-type works, but I tried my hand at fanfiction for the first time ever today. It's unbeta'd and kind of a drabble. Written more on impulse with few guidelines in mind, so there are some doubts to how organized it is /
Disregard tense errors.
Title: Convenience Author: Me, thihoai Rating: PG-15
Warnings: Language, yaoi, implied sex, angsty?-ish
Pairings: IchigoXRenji
Summary: Were they only friends with benefits? Authors note: First fic! Would greatly appreciate feedback.
Convenience
The two friendly rivals had mutually decided that their newfound, "intimate" relationship was a matter of convenience. It was merely one-dimensional fulfillment to offset a wildly multifaceted, complicated existence. After the war, both had craved a taste of meaninglessness when things meant just a little too much. There were far too many battles lost, innocent people gone unsaved, and trusts broken, leaving traces of hurt in memories and unrest in dreams. Such had a much larger impact of them than either would admit (the stubborn bastards they are), but they had wordlessly found that they could be each other's anesthetic for their invisible wounds--carnal pleasure blinding the rational mind and its damned tendency to feel. To put it bluntly, they were friends with benefits. They wished for nothing more. Any further involvement would increase the potential of a larger breakdown. Love causes fatal attachment and weakness of the heart. And, in a world that always needs saving, that would be inconvenient.
...Wouldn't it?
On some nights like these Ichigo would question this supposed one-dimensionality. Renji had just been taken by sleep, the conflagration quietly dying out of his eyes, which were now lidded and relaxed. Exhausted and drunk with the ghost of passion himself, Ichigo leaned against wall and pushed away sticky sheets to observe his bedmate. Bedmate, yes. Lover, not quite.
Crimson strands dripped through the defined contours of Renji's back. Milky moonlight playfully licked the familiar tattoos and the prominent red marks, bruises and deep scratches. It had been rough, like usual, with no sensuality or finesse. But at present, the evidence of that night's unromantic fervor betrayed Renji's face—battle worn, indeed, but alarmingly calm and vulnerable, almost virginal. Ichigo snickered at the thought. But then a lone tear crept out of a corner of the redhead's eye, tracing a wet track across his cheek. This discovery was unnerving to Ichigo, who found himself accustomed to seeing an unyielding Renji on the frontier. The sight made his chest constrict uncomfortably. Renji visibly shook, brows furrowing and casting shadows over hooded eyes. Must be a nightmare, Ichigo noted. They never talked about the nightmares of war, though they both had them more often than they would like. Ichigo found himself unconsciously stroking Renji's face, wiping away the tear, and watched as the tightened face relax once again. The strawberry gave one of his rare, fond smiles to his lover. A precious treasure of a moment.
Wait! What the hell was wrong with him? He did not "love" this man. Renji was just a good fuck--a convenient method of distraction. Nothing more, nothing more, Ichigo scolded himself.
But if Renji meant only sex to him, then why oh why did he find his tears so disarming? Why was Renji constantly on the back burner of his mind during a fight? Why did it pull so viciously on his heartstrings to see Renji's wounds? And what about those times when they only took solace in each other's arms? Ichigo shook the thoughts out of his head. He promised himself that he would NOT get involved. If he got attached, losing Renji would be a million times more painful. And he could not handle losing one more person he loved.
…But the longer he looked at that rare expression on Renji's face, devoid of all defenses, Ichigo wondered how willing he was for all these nights to have meant nothing. How willing was he to keep sacrificing involvement for security? Was he such a coward that he couldn't handle more being at stake? After some honest contemplation, Ichigo had finally felt he could answer the age old question: "Do I want Renji to just be my fuckbuddy?"
Hell no.
Now that's more like it. Enough with this fickle shit.
Ichigo unceremoniously shook Renji awake. "Nnngh. ...Ichigo? What th-fuck..? It ain't morning, dipshit," Renji drawled, his voice heavy with sleep.
"Well I was gonna go out of my way and be sentimental, but you ruined it. Forget it." Ichigo looked away.
Poke. "Wait. Tell me. I wanna know now." Whiny pineapple he was.
"No." Stubborn strawberry he was.
"No really. C'moooon Ichig--"
"I love you." Renji was still, and the flippant atmosphere quickly dissolved. "...as sappy as it is, I think I always have. Even when we started this... arrangement." He made a vague gesture and turned his head to shield himself from Renji's searching gaze. "I know we said no involvement so no one gets hurt, but... Goddammit, that wouldn't make a fucking difference about how I feel! The possibility of losing you would hurt regardless of whether we agreed to keep it strictly sex or not. I don't think it was ever my choice. I don't know how you fe--" He was pulled into a rather passionate kiss, feral but now with a peculiar sensual edge. "--el, but..." Ichigo's voice was again swallowed by Renji and reduced to breathy whispers. Hands were tangled in hair and Renji slowly ran his tongue along Ichigo's bottom lip. "I think...-I can afford to--mmm--raise the stakes, because.." Ichigo pulled away for an instant to stare intensely into Renji.
"Because I know I don't need to worry about losing you, because I'll save your ass anyways." Ichigo smirked, but love lit his eyes.
"Oh? Sou ka? I think I could say the same back to ya." Renji had a smirk to match. "So deal. I love you too, bastard. Don't you friggin' get yourself killed 'cause I'd kill you dead again."
They were wrong. To only be friends with benefits wasn't a matter of convenience. Rather, it was a matter of cowardice. So maybe it wasn't so inconvenient to love after all.