Title: Never Breaking Contact

Warning: Shounen-ai, fluff.

Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine.

Ichigo braced his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands. His back hurt like hell. The tension in his muscles was so tight; it was beginning to tax him physically. Not fun. It was, by no means, his fault. With the winter war looming closer, and the constant Arrancar and Hollow appearances, it was too much of a risk not to walk around expecting an attack any minute in any place. He really needed to relax.

But he couldn't.

If he did, that would be the opportune moment for Aizen to attack. And he'd be damned if he was ignorant enough not to realize that the bastard was keeping tabs on him. So, he settled for kneeling down on the hard packed dirt of Urahara's underground training facility, and going through some breathing exercises Rukia had taught him. Though she learned them to calm herself when facing down her nerves in a fight, they worked just as well here. Slipping out of his black Shinigami robe, he rolled his shoulders, and winced.

Urahara Kisuke was not a pervert. Just because he was hiding behind a boulder, masking his reiatsu, and peering out at our young Ichigo-who hadn't the foggiest that he was being watched- didn't make him a pervert. Not one bit. He was simply…admiring…the finer points of…our young Substitute Shinigami friend. Okay, well, maybe he was a pervert. A little. But that's beside the point.

Sliding out of his sandals, he took his hat from his head and laid it face up, placing his fan inside. Making sure his reiatsu was perfectly masked; he crept over to the teenager perched on a rock. Stopping his advance when he saw the younger man slither gracefully to his knees, and slip out of the top of the Shihakusho (which, in his opinion, made the teen look oh so sexy.). He watched as the redhead revolved his shoulders, grimacing. The tightness Kisuke observed in his back must be worse than he let on. He heard Ichigo run through the breathing exercises that every Shinigami was taught in the Academy, and wondered vaguely where he had learned them. Abari-kun or Kuchiki-san no doubt.

Once again, he began to walk steadily toward the teen. Getting to his knees, he wrapped his arms around Ichigo's waist, and scooted forward, placing a thigh on either side of Ichigo's hips. Snuggling close to the teen's back. Cuddling up nice and close, he placed chaste kisses along the smaller's neck and shoulders. Ichigo sighed contentedly, feeling some of the tension that had been plaguing him slowly ebb away. Running his hands along green clad arms, he tilted his head to rest on a conveniently placed shoulder, closing his eyes.

Slowly, Kisuke began to rub soothing circles into the orange-head's back. Groaning lightly, Ichigo moved, baring more of his back to those wonderfully skilled hands. Slowly, the blond began to calm the drawn muscles, coaxing them into relaxation. Using his thumbs, he traced the outline of both shoulder blades, where the knots were the biggest and most concentrated. Ichigo hissed. Cooing in his ear, Kisuke began to gently work out the stress on the abused muscles. Ichigo let out a big breath when the tangles came free, and slumped his head forward, chin touching his chest.

Moving his hands down to Ichigo's lower back, he used his knuckles to work out the surprisingly large amount of coils. No doubt from having a sword as heavy as Zangetsu resting on his back all this time… leaning his head against Ichigo's relaxed-for-once right shoulder, he ran his hands up the tanned skin firmly, searching for any previously missed knots. Finding none, he moved back to his original position, and placed his arms, once again, around the boy's waist.

Taking those wonderfully soft, yet ever so slightly calloused hands in his own, Ichigo had them travel up his own bare chest, coming to a stop in from of his lips. Smirking at the memory of the time he found out the shopkeeper's hands were so ridiculously sensitive, he turned them palm up. Slowly, so maniacally slowly, he began to lightly drag his tongue along the exposed palms and long fingers. Sinuously wrapping his arousing pink tongue around the digits, he make sure they were thoroughly coated before blowing on them lightly, chilling the skin.

Kisuke moaned in his ear, knowing full well that the teenager knew exactly what he was doing to the older male. With a parting lick, he withdrew. Turning so he was facing the other, knees holding the blond's waist, Ichigo laid his head on Kisuke's chest, arms wrapped around the neck above him.

Slipping off his inverted captain's haori, he threw to around Ichigo's shoulders, gripping it right beneath the aforementioned redhead's arms. Pulling Ichigo closer with the coat, he kissed the boy softly, tongue darting out to slide past the automatically parted lips of the younger. Leaning down so Ichigo's back was to the floor, his haori as the go between layer, he whispered into the other's mouth, "I love you, Ichigo. You know that, right?" it was a rhetorical question, but Ichigo answered it with a matching whisper.

"I love you, Kisuke. We know that, right?" he said breathlessly, their lips never fully breaking contact.

They stayed that way, lips never fully breaking the bond between them.

END