Bleach doesn't belong to me, thank god.

Rated for language and suggestive themes.

Pairing is Ichigo/Ishida

I think that's about it.

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Ichigo shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. Not five feet away from him two bare-chested sweat-slick gorgeous men kissed, entwined in each other's arms. He felt sweat bead on his upper lip and licked it off, instantly cursing himself. What if someone saw and thought it was a come on?

It wasn't so much that two males were all but fucking each other's mouths next to him, as two persons doing that at all. He'd been just as mortified if it was a straight couple. Probably. Most probably.

Kurosaki Ichigo wasn't homosexual, just as he wasn't heterosexual. Kurosaki Ichigo just wasn't sexual, period. He'd never been much for masturbation, never really understood the allure of sweating writhing bodies.

Then again Kurosaki Ichigo had never before stood one step away from just that, bathed in gasps and moans of pleasure that somehow overrode the heavy techno beat which made the walls and floor of the gay club vibrate.

Perhaps he was sexual after all.

After all he couldn't tear his eyes away from the couple.

There was this unfamiliar sensation stirring in his belly, like a small animal waking up after hibernation and slowly starting to claw its way up to the surface.

He swallowed.

It had been a stupid idea coming here, but the damn Quincy had hounded him for weeks in a very un-Quincy like manner. There had been begging, for fuck's sake, begging and puppy dog eyes! It wasn't as if he'd had a choice after that. He had caved in, mostly for the sake of Ishida's pride.

After graduating high-school both boys had enrolled in the local university's med program per their father's wishes. None of them had objected, they had known since childhood it was their fate to become physicians.

Another reason not to object had, for Ichigo, been that he had finally started to enjoy Ishida's company. They'd been through so much shit together and came through with more than a few scratches, to put it mildly. The winter war had changed the two young men forever. Wading through blood in search of lost comrades tended to have that effect on people.

Funny that.

As it had hardened them, it had also brought them closer, to the point where Ichigo spent more time in Ishida's little flat than at home after it all had been over. They studied together, bickered and fought with each other, they watched stupid movies and laughed. Ishida even started to teach Ichigo how to cook and, the Quincy's eyes brimming with tears when Ichigo had held up the finished result, sew. It hadn't even crossed Ichigo's mind that sewing wasn't something big boys were supposed to do. There was very little room left for shallow pride like that when you've screamed and begged and cried while helping a friend hold his stomach closed so his guts wouldn't spill out. Perhaps knowing how to sew would come in handy for those kinds of things in the future.

From what it seemed though, Ichigo would never have to see it again. There had been a final battle, the grand old clash between good and evil, mortals dozing untouched and unaware as it raged on close by. Too close for the good side's liking, but then they never had a choice. It didn't matter anymore. They had won.

In a final showdown Soul Society's own personal saviour had taken on the traitor Aizen and with his sword Zangetsu and his nameless inner hollow defeated him.

Once and for all.

The Hueco Mundo ranks had crumbled after the death of their leader. The traitors Gin and Tousen had been among the countless corpses strewing the streets of Karakura, the ten espada had all turned to dust as they'd been outmanoeuvred, outnumbered and eradicated one by one.

Watching the sixth espada fall had been strangely hard on Ichigo. He'd looked on as the large semi-feline creature had been lifted by his teal blue mane, all matted by his own blood, and then run through by a sharp sword, right through his cold dead heart. He hadn't even been conscious as he started to fade.

And it had hurt Ichigo, hurt the little white knight in his soul because he knew Grimmjow had deserved a better fate, but so did many of the fallen in the battle. He hurt but he knew better. He never held a grudge against Renji for finishing the espada off when already beaten, far from it, he just wished things could have been different.

He'd work through all the stars in the sky if they'd grant him wishes for all the things he wanted different.

With Aizen's defeat came peace. The shinigami helped rebuild the parts of Karakura that had been obliterated by the fighting, then pulled out. The four high school friends left behind patched themselves up as much as they could on their own and then returned to their lives.

It was then Ichigo found out that hanging out with Ishida soothed the constant aching burn in his soul, something his two other human friends couldn't do for him.

The quiet and stoic Chad had turned even more quiet and stoic, turned into a marble statue almost. With a sadness in his eyes that had been strong enough for Ichigo to avert his gaze, he had explained in as few words as humanly possible that he couldn't stay, that all that had happened hurt too much, that he loved Ichigo and would treasure their friendship forever and had then packed his apartment into boxes, grabbed his guitar and left.

It had killed Ichigo inside but he had smiled and wished his friend good luck, saying he loved him too and asked him to write when he could.

And Inoue… Inoue was a whole 'nother chapter.

Returning from Hueco Mundo and surviving the battle of Karakura she had acted even more strange than usual. Of course she had been changed by the war, they all had, but she had acted like an anxious child around Ichigo, a desperate note creeping into her 'Kurosaki-kuuun's'.

Finally Ichigo had grabbed her arm one day and pulled her to the side, sick of seeing her hurting like she obviously was.

That had gone incredibly well. It had been the one defining moment where Ichigo understood all the times people had called him 'blind' and 'dense' and 'thick' and 'plain fucking retarded'.

"You wha- I- You- You're what?"

"In love with you, Kurosaki-kun," she said. "You came all the way to Hueco Mundo just to save me, I thought…"

"But you're my friend, Inoue! I would have done that for any of my friends!"

"Oh god," she said. "I've been a fool. I'm sorry, please forget everything I said! Of course you would! We're friends!"

And then she'd laughed like a crazy person and bolted.

Ichigo hadn't seen her for a week and when she returned to school she had been an empty shell, eyes dull and red-rimmed, body thin and unhealthily pale.

Tatsuki had beaten the living shit out of him, stomping on his head while screaming that she would kill him. He actually wouldn't have minded her doing that then. He was broken and hurting too, although for different reasons, and of course Inoue's condition pained him.

In the end Tatsuki had spared his life and forgiven him as she finally understood he had never strung Inoue along consciously.

And Inoue had gotten herself back together, straightening her back, regaining her weight, complexion and chipper manners, but she never acted the same around Ichigo again.

The friendship they had had taken too much damage, like so many other things in their lives, and Inoue had moved on, moved away, applied for a different university than him and Ishida and gotten in.

The smile when they had waved her off at the train station had been strained, marring her beautiful features.

It still hurt.

With Ishida, although they had all but dropped the I'm-better-than-you kindergarten act, it was still so blissfully normal to be around the Quincy. It made the tendrils of pitch black horror coil back, made Ichigo forget about the war. For minutes at a time at first, then hours, then finally days.

His father had let him go, never questioning why he spent days at a time with his class mate. He'd seen his son's eyes, large and dull and empty, and sent him off, trusting Ishida to force some life back into those eyes. When seeing the result he had forcefully made the Quincy part of the Kurosaki family, kisses and drop kicks and everything.

Now at the university they had decided to move into a dorm although the school wasn't too far from home. Far enough to be a nuisance, sure, but the main reason was that they were just… through with their old lives and they needed to have somewhere where they could get a fresh start.

Ichigo and Ishida shared what was, while technically still in a dorm, more like a two bedroom apartment. They shared kitchen and bathroom and television, but had their separate rooms. It worked surprisingly well.

Ichigo had taken Ishida's cooking lessons to heart and put them to use. His repertoire, although small, was nice and well balanced.

Ishida tolerated the blasting of vulgar music from Ichigo's room at all times, except for when finals came around when he went livid.

Ichigo tolerated Ishida going livid and bit back retorts in favour for an apology.

And so on.

They had a pretty good thing going. None of them brought home girls…

-

The knock on Ichigo's door was a welcome break from the four hour marathon study session he'd just pulled off. "Come in!"

Ishida opened the door and peeked in, his eyes large and worried behind stylish glasses. There was a nervous air to him that made Ichigo spin his chair around and look at his friend.

"Kurosaki, I-"

"What is it? Did something happen?" Worry crept unbidden into Ichigo's voice. Seeing Ishida distraught still set him off, triggered bad memories.

"No! No, nothing like that, no..." Ishida made his way into Ichigo's room and stopped in the middle of it, fidgeting with his hands, shuffling his feet. He looked like a little kid.

"Then what is it, Ishida?" Ichigo frowned, puzzled by his friend's behaviour. It was as if he was about to reveal a horrible secret, as if- Ah.

"Kurosaki…" he began, then bit his lip, visibly working up some courage. "Kurosaki, I have to tell you something."

Ichigo felt a bit torn. His heart went out to the guy, standing there in anguish, it really did, but it was also kinda funny. He was pretty sure of what Ishida was about to say and it was neither a surprise nor something he should have to feel nervous about. There was just something with the Quincy squirming in discomfort that filled Ichigo with glee, now that he knew it wasn't something life threatening, and he simply raised a brow. "Yeah? What's that?"

"Kurosaki, I-" The pale young man reached up and removed his glasses, nervously polishing them on the hem of his shirt. "I-"

"Out with it, Quincy. I've papers to write."

"I'm gay."

There it was.

Ishida put the glasses back on and looked at Ichigo, his deep blue eyes filled with uncertainty, his brow knit.

Ichigo held back for a second, allowing himself one twisted moment of torturing his friend, before getting out of his chair, walking over to where Ishida was standing and wrapping his arms around him. "I'm glad you told me," he said softly.

"I… Thank you, Kurosaki."

"Don't mention it." The sigh of relief was the only thing Ichigo really needed to hear.

-

…None of them had loud and obnoxious friends (Keigo had moved out of town after graduation.) None of them drank very much or smoked, or so Ichigo had thought because here he stood watching Ishida giggle on the other side of the dance floor, a bottle of beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other. He idly wondered if Ishida might have an evil twin. That would explain a lot of things.

A particularly loud moan made Ichigo's attention snap back to the happy couple next to him. They were grinding against each other to the music, one of the men had his thigh lodged between the legs of the other. The way their hips moved was enough to make the young vizard blush. He looked around him, but no one else seemed to notice. In fact, by just quickly sweeping the room he spotted at least five more couples and a few trios who looked just as ecstatic.

I can't fucking believe the nerve of that Quincy! I can't believe I fell for his dirty tactics. Just abandoning me here with these… deviants! I can't believe I just used the word 'deviant'! That's it!

He finished his drink in one gulp and pushed off from the wall he had been leaning against and headed toward where Ishida was standing.

Had been standing.

Ichigo had made it halfway across the dance floor when he looked up and realised his friend was no longer there. Great. Not wanting to get stuck in the mass of writhing bodies he kept going, pushing people aside as gently as possible.

"Kurosaki?"

His head snapped to the side at the sound of his name. He looked down at the shoulders his hands were about to push to the side and discovered they were followed by a pale slender neck and glossy black bangs. "Ishida! Where the fuck have you been?" He shook his friend lightly.

Ishida cupped a hand to his ear with a smile and a shrug.

Ichigo's grip on the slender shoulders tightened and he leaned in close, repeating himself loudly in Ishida's ear.

The only reply he got was a laugh and a hug that seemed to linger on. The Quincy held Ichigo tight, still shaking from laughter Ichigo couldn't hear.

Right.

Ishida was plastered.

Nimble fingers slid from his back down to his ass.

Ishida was plastered and horny.

The redhead frowned and was just about to slap his friend's hands away when he was pinched hard. He yelped and thrust forward, away from those vicious fingers, right into something hard that most probably wasn't one of the Quincy's hips.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Relax, Ichigo! Have some fun!" Ishida was looking up at him through a few stray locks of raven hair, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He let Ichigo go and took a few steps back, swaying his hips to the music in a way Ichigo thought male hips weren't even able to. He swallowed hard. What was happening was all kinds of wrong and nothing had even happened yet. Nothing… bad. But still, this was the first time he could recall suddenly thinking how gorgeous Ishida looked like that.

His movements were lazy and rhythmic, following the bass instead of the drum beat with rolling hips. His hair covered one half of his face, the other adorned by an alcohol induced blush. His lips were parted and smiling. Even the clothes Ichigo had taunted him for before they'd gone out looked amazing, the sleeveless white zippered top a snug, well-tailored fit, the grey, tight pants showing off impossibly long legs and a fine, tight-

Ichigo felt fire burn in his cheeks as Ishida turned his back to him, still grinding his hips to that relentless beat. He looked on helplessly as those skilled hips backed up against him again, encouraging him to move.

Ha! Move! Kurosaki Ichigo dance? Surely you jest. I shall laugh at you now and kill you slowly when we get back home, Ishida. Just stop… grinding… against… me. Fuck.

He found himself gritting his teeth, one nervous hand on Ishida's hip, the other on his shoulder, pulling in or pushing away, he couldn't tell anymore. And without knowing what he was doing those sensual hips had soon lured him into moving his own. Slow rolls in time with the bass line of the song, a rhythm deeply embedded in the loins of all creatures.

As the song went on his hands moved more surely. One clamped down on a hip, the other slid around to press flat against Ishida's stomach.

Ishida pressed himself flush against Ichigo's chest and let one hand come up to grab his neck.

If asked, none of the boys would have been able to say when it changed, when the obvious but still tightly reined excitement was replaced by mindless hunger. Suddenly it was just there. Suddenly rolling hips weren't just temporary stimulation, they were promises meant to be kept.

Ichigo grabbed both Ishida's hips and turned him around, a moan forced from his throat as Ishida kept grinding against him, not missing a beat. The vizard had been too busy being lost in the sensation of Ishida moving with him to reflect upon the fact he was painfully hard. He looked down just as Ishida looked up and could see the raw need in his friend's eyes. It scared him, scared him more than a hoard of screaming arrancar ascending down upon him had.

This was for real. This was him and his best friend dry humping each other using music as an excuse. Ichigo wasn't very drunk, far from it. Watching Ishida's eyes he could tell the Quincy wasn't either. He had been, yes, but the look Ichigo was met with was frighteningly sober.

There would be no excuses later on for what he was about to do.

He reached up and cupped Ishida's face in his hands, letting his thumbs slowly stroke over porcelain smooth cheeks, and then leaned in, music forgotten along with the rest of the world, until his lips brushed Ishida's. He could feel the shaky exhale before he crushed his mouth against Ishida's, his tongue asking for entrance.

Ishida answered before Ichigo was even finished asking, his lips parting to let Ichigo in.

They were already past the point of gentle, the kiss was searing. Their tongues fought and fucked. They bit and sucked, growled and gasped. Ishida's fingers were entangled in Ichigo's hair and Ichigo's hands had slid from the Quincy's face down to the small of his back where they kept him pinned against his body.

Slowly they came to and the music returned, the beat matching their racing pulses. They started to move again, mouths not parting for a second, except when to nip or lick and even then not straying very far.

Ichigo kept his eyes closed hard, fireworks going off behind the lids. It felt as if his heart was about to break through his ribcage, as if he had forgotten how to breathe. He felt a million different things but the only thing that mattered was the body in his arms. Because that felt right.

After what felt like years their lips parted and they came up for air, gasping and panting.

Ishida untangled his fingers from Ichigo's hair and slid them down to his face, gently stroking his cheeks. They looked at each other, frozen but for their hips which kept that slow rolling beat none of them were able or found themselves wanting to stop.

Finally Ishida smiled. A breathless, nervous little smile that made something in Ichigo's chest twist. He wondered if anyone else ever had been graced with that smile and turned his head to kiss the fingers lingering on his cheek to thank his friend for it.

Around them people danced while screaming out their love for the DJ.

The dance floor was boiling and standing on the middle of it were two boys who had just found something important in a place none of them had thought to look.

END

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A/n - I never in a million years thought I'd be writing Ichigo/Ishida.

Then again, I never in a million years thought I'd be writing at all, not in English at least.

I'm supposed to be working on another chapter for my multi-chapter 'Of birds and bees' but I think I needed a break because this is what came out when I left that chapter alone for a little while. It was a nice way to clear my head.

I like Ishida, I really do. Even more so now, because now I imagine him drunk and giggling all the time.

If you want to know the song they made out to, so to speak, it's by Daft Punk. 'Too long/Steam machine' from their live album Alive 2007. That track was on repeat from the first sentence to the last of this fic.

I hope you enjoyed it!

Comments are very welcome and much appreciated. They melt my innards. In a good way.