Title: The Most Dangerous Things

Warning: Non-canon.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

Chapter Nine

It was the mother of all fuckups.

Five days later, Ichigo paced his flat, stared down from his balcony, and saw nothing. Fucking jack shit, and it was pissing him right the hell off.

She walked out on him. After he'd spent the weekend fucking her until they couldn't move, she had all but run from him. And what the hell had he done?

Stood there.

Like the fucking fool he was, he just stood on the damn deck and watched her go, anger rising inside him as fast and hard as the lust had that gotten him into this fucking disaster in the first place.

She hadn't even let him drive her back.

She'd called a cab.

She'd called a fucking cab other than sit in the same vehicle with him for less than an hour.

And he was going fucking insane.

There was a pounding on his door and he recognized it instantly, rolling his eyes as he jerked it open.

"You slept with her! Just what the hell's your problem, Ichigo?" Tatsuki brushed by him. "I mean, I always knew there was something wrong with you, but this!" She whirled, throwing up her hands before jabbing one his direction. "I defended you!"

He pushed the door closed with a sigh, shoving a hand through his hair. He had expected this, and honestly, he had expected it a hell of a lot sooner.

"And how is Ishida?"

"Don't change the subject. You know he's fucking pissed at you."

Big shock there. He usually was.

Ishida could get almost as protective of Orihime as Tatsuki. Which was normally something he liked about the guy.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

What had he been thinking? He rubbed his head. He didn't have any idea. He'd just jumped in testosterone first and clearly let something other than his brain do the reasoning.

"Look. I know, I fucked up, okay—"

"Gee, Ichigo, do you think?" He started when her temporary calm evaporated and she threw her arms up with a half shriek, half yell. A hand twisted into his shirt, jerking him down to her level. "She loves you, you idiot!"

She snarled it with so much venom, it took a moment to process. When it did, his eyes widened and he thought his heart would jackhammer through his chest with that one staggering declaration. Then reason kicked in and his brows drew down.

"I think you've got your wires crossed. She dumped me. Not the other way—"

"Shut up! God! How stupid are you? She loves you. I know she loves you, because she has since—I don't know— forever, alright?" She growled, releasing his shirt with a sneer as though she had only just realized she was touching something foul. "Only your head is so far up your ass, you don't even get it…"

What the hell?

Orihime? The same Orihime that ran other than share a damn car? In love with him?

Bullshit.

"Don't fuck around with me, Tatsuki. I'm not in the mood."

"You're not in the mood? You aren't in the mood?" She almost spit the words into his face. "I just stayed up another night listening to her cry herself to sleep, bastard." She stabbed another finger into his chest, punctuating with vicious jabs. "You don't fuck with me. Got it?"

He searched her eyes, glancing between them as though he expected them to tattle on each other.

They didn't. There was nothing but cold, hard truth.

He blinked and something coiled in his stomach, and then with a tickle like warm champagne, it blossomed.

"In love?" He stared at her, still half waiting for the punch line.

She snorted.

"With me?"

Tatsuki nodded, one sharp jerk of her dark head.

His legs felt strange, as if someone had replaced his knees with sponges. He swallowed.

"But she said…" His gaze refocused on her face as incredulity crept up to replace shock. "She lied to me."

"Surprise, surprise."

His face fell into a scowl and he glared. "I get it, Tatsuki. I'm an idiot. No one's arguing."

"Good. Although, to be honest, I was kind of hoping you would." She grinned, flashing teeth and smacking a fist into her palm. "Now, go fix it, stupid. If I have to come back here, there will be blood. Got it?"

She again punctuated her sentence by poking him in the chest with that damn pointy finger. He grunted, but didn't say anything as she walked back out, slamming his door, coming and going like a slender, spiky-haired tornado. Damn her.

And what the hell made her wait so fucking long to convey such critical information?

Goddamn it. Goddamn this fucking situation and goddamn him.

Time he did something about it too.

Ichigo walked back to his patio, looked out and over toward the apartment balcony that echoed his. She was in there. He could feel her, the soft shifts as she moved around.

So she wanted to avoid him, huh? Well, that was about to change.

He knew he was asking for trouble, he knew he wasn't rational. But that didn't keep him from stalking out the door, two levels down, and planting himself in front of Orihime and Tatsuki's small apartment. He didn't have a clue what he was going to say, but that wasn't stopping him. He'd always been damned good at improvising.

He pounded on the door.

His arms crossed over his chest as she eased it open and peeked out at him warily.

"What is it, Ichigo-kun?"

She didn't seem very happy to see him.

Too damned bad.

He caught the edge of the door with one hand, and pushed his way in between her and the frame, turning back to look down at her astonished, and somewhat nervous face.

She was wearing another of those damned, long-sleeved, over-sized sweaters that hid every bit of skin from his view.

God, he hated those bastards.

He gave her an exhaustive once over from under his lashes, knowing from the deep blushing how much it flustered her. "Get dressed. We're going out."

"We… are?"

She crossed her own arms under her chest, squared her shoulders, and glared back— Well, if that could be called a glare in any sense of the word.

Damn. She was going to be feisty. And that made the blood race under his skin.

After five days, he felt like a goddamn heroin addict without a fix. He couldn't sleep, couldn't think straight, even when he forced himself to eat, it was tasteless. Hell, it didn't really matter that he couldn't see an ounce of supple, silky-soft skin, wouldn't have mattered if she were trussed up in a burlap sack.

That defiance made him fucking hard.

"…And where are we going?"

"The grocery store first. Then that café on campus."

God, he was a nutcase. Fucking certifiable and getting closer to that padded room with every uttered breath.

Her eyes blinked back at him, uncertain. "The grocery store?"``

Ichigo bent his head until they were nose to nose.

"Those bastards that hit on you at that damn store are going to learn who you're with. Starting today. And since when the hell did a grocery store become a singles' fucking meeting place?"

She stared then looked away, over her shoulder, letting long, loose curls tumble down.

He narrowed his eyes at the profile of her auburn head before stalking up behind her.

Dammit. She really was driving him crazy.

She jumped, tried to pull away from him, but he wasn't letting go until he was ready. Which he was pretty damn certain was never again. He'd made that mistake enough times. And not letting her go, wrapping his arms around and holding her firmly to his chest, his erection brushing against those tormenting curves, was pushing him further from reason.

Orihime closed her eyes, shaking from the effort it took not to relax into the hard frame that radiated so much strength and soothing heat.

He was the danger here. She knew that. So how was it that she felt more secure now than she had in days?

Five days.

How was she supposed to stand this? She thought she could survive. That she would be okay with time. But she wasn't. She was miserable. She ached. She woke up at night looking for him, tormented, hot, crying and frustrated. And he wasn't there.

At least, not with her.

In the past, his heavy spiritual pressure had comforted her like a warm blanket. One she was more than happy to wrap around her as she fell asleep. Now, it tormented her. Refused to let her forget that he was there, just a few floors and wooden barriers away in his own bed.

The hold around her tightened.

She was almost panting. He wasn't even doing anything and she could feel moisture gathering between her legs, the throbbing ache.

Orihime tightened her thighs, realizing far too late that her head had fallen back to his shoulder.

What was wrong with her?

"It doesn't go away, you know." She jolted at the sound of his voice, as though he could read her mind. "That need. I've spent a long time trying to get away from it. Nothing helps."

She stared at the ceiling, and its single brand-new light fixture. The same one that she and Tatsuki had petitioned for months to have replaced. One visit from Ichigo to the RA's office and it had been fixed the same day.

Was there anything she didn't need him for?

What was the point in fighting? He would win and they both knew it. Both wanted it.

A hand rubbed across her ribs, sliding up to grasp her breast and she whimpered, writhed against him. With painstaking precision, he traced her small, hardened nipple through her clothing.

Orihime gasped, her body straining.

She was supposed to fight this? She couldn't even think straight. Not with these feelings tearing through her mind and fusing her body to his. Her composure was shattering and she couldn't bring herself to care. There was nothing more crucial than the feel of his hands tying her nerves into knots.

Ichigo turned her around, his hand curved beneath her hair along the back of her neck, holding her in place while his lips covered hers.

He groaned, breaking free to lift her on to the small center island, pushing between her thighs as he pulled the neck of her sweater away from her shoulder, along with the strap of her bra and turned his mouth to her skin, using his teeth, his tongue and his hands.

His palms dug into the skin of her shoulder blades, forcing her harder against his mouth.

Orihime moaned, barely resisting the urge to sink her fingers into strands of orange hair and pull him tighter.

Finally releasing her, he growled. "Damn, I missed you."

Her breath caught.

The things he did to her. The ways he touched her, made her heart pound and her brain stall. It was unlike anything she had told herself it could be. It was potent, addictive. He was the dizzying height of every imagined encounter she'd ever had. And she needed to stop this. Had to be firm.

"You really do make me crazy, you know." He pulled back, drew the sleeve of her shirt back into place over a fresh mark and stared down at her, his gaze sensual, drowsy. "Now, get dressed."

She stared back at him in dazed confusion, his words failing to register straightaway.

She licked her lips, voice barely audible. "I am dressed."

"Jeans or something." His hand slid under her skirt, testing the swell of her backside and she jumped, gasping when he grasped a soft, fleshy curve. "You wear a skirt and I'll end up fucking you before we get there. Go on, I'll wait."

Orihime blinked, nose wrinkling at the command in his tone.

Frowning, she crossed her arms. "You're being bossy, Ichigo-kun."

"Yeah?" He smiled. "I'm fucking hard, too, so watch out or you might get more of a lesson in fucking me than you're ready for, right now."

She shifted, but didn't move and his eyes narrowed, amber highlights glinting.

"Why, Ichigo-kun? What does it matter if we go to the store? Or to the school? How does it change anything other than everyone in Karakura knowing what happened between us? "

He nodded decisively.

"You're getting the picture. My town, my school, my woman." He liked the sound of that enough to grin. "And that's doing it the easy way. We could do it the hard way. I could just follow you the next time you go to the store and start knocking their damned heads together every time I catch those bastards sniffing after you. I'd have fun with that, but I'm betting you wouldn't."

Her eyes widened.

"You..." She was going to say he wouldn't, but she knew very well that he would. So instead it came out, "You couldn't follow me all of the time."

He lowered his head and met her gaze straight on. "Try me."

She heart slammed in her chest. He was too close. Close enough that she could lean forward and kiss him if she chose. His mouth was set, lips tight, but soft looking, fixed into a hard expression. But she could remember them doing other things.

Naughty things...

With frustrated noise in her throat, Orihime shook her head and re-crossed her arms, and then her legs for good measure, cheeks burning and puffing in irritation. It wasn't fair that he could twist her this way. That she could be taken in so easily.

She took a deep breath and looked away, or tried to anyway. She couldn't resist peeking from the corner of her eye.

"You're being very autocratic, Ichigo-kun."

"Yeah? I was thinking of making it my major. Now get dressed. You have five seconds to get your ass moving before I start undressing." He lowered dark lashes, flicking his gaze over her from her crossed legs to her arms under her chest. "And tomorrow I start knocking heads together."

He was serious.

He almost looked like he would rather she didn't go.

Orihime stared at him, mouth open, amazed, perhaps a little frightened, and a whole lot fascinated, but she did hurry to comply. Making to slip off the counter, she shivered when he didn't move, and tried not to rub all the way down the entire length of his body.

"We…" Her throat was dry and she had to swallow before trying again. "We're going to have to… to d-discuss your habit of you ordering me around," she told him, backing out of the kitchen.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Five."

Orihime gasped.

"Four."

"That's not fair..."

"Three."

Her eyes widened.

"Two."

He lowered his arms, hand dropping to his belt, and his sweet, little princess turned tail and ran.

He smiled at the sound of her door thumping closed.

By morning, she and everyone else in this damned town would know exactly how things were going to be from now on.

()()()

They were being followed.

He huffed, adjusting his hold on Orihime and picking up the pace.

Ichigo felt his brow twitch in annoyance, zeroing in on the less than subtle presences behind them.

Rukia. No big revelation there, she was perpetually butting into his personal space and always had. Tatsuki. He'd have been shocked if she hadn't been following them. Chad, Ichigo was willing to forgive since it was rare enough. Renji, the poor bastard was very securely under Rukia's heel and almost chained to her shadow these days.

His brows drew down.

But Ishida? What the hell?

And… Goddamn it. They weren't just being followed. They were surrounded.

A spikey head here. A bald one there. Strawberry-blonde curls and way too much cleavage.

He frowned.

There was Mizuiro and Chizuru, and a handful of others, shinigami and otherwise. He would have even sworn he saw a pale blonde, very irritating vizard hovering above them, but when he looked, he was gone.

No real surprise that only Keigo was stupid enough to approach, and that was remedied quickly enough.

The impact with the concrete sounded painful, but he didn't bother to look as the store came into view, and he marched by— and ignored— a sleek, black cat licking her paws and watching them with keen golden eyes.

He pushed through the doors, Orihime trailing behind him.

"K-Kurosaki-kun? Wasn't that— what are we—"

"This should do it."

He turned so fast she nearly slammed into his chest. Then his hands were on her, one behind her head, the other snagging her around the waist, hauling her into flush contact as his mouth took hers. Hard. Sudden. Final.

In an instant, everything fell away but his kiss. It was hungry, like a darkly powerful aphrodisiac.

He drove his tongue into her mouth, ruthless as he sucked her breath into his body. She gasped, then moaned as pleasure wrapped around her, surfacing from deep down in her belly.

His hands were rough, unyielding as they pressed into the small of her back and held her head.

All space between them was eliminated in his full-on assault of her mouth and body. He kissed her thoroughly, bent over her, dragging his tongue over hers with harsh strokes until she moaned and whimpered against it.

Then it was over.

Ichigo yanked his mouth from hers and looked over her shoulder.

He dragged in harsh breaths, glaring at the store-clerk that ambled over and watching as the man scurried off again.

Her fingers curled into his shirt.

When he acted this way, when that light was in his eyes, she was almost frightened of him. He looked menacing and possessive. A shiver coursed its way along her spine, short lived because he latched on to her arm again and dragged her right back from the store.

"Ah! Kuro—"

"And that's another thing. You keep calling me Kurosaki." He stormed through the doors, pointedly ignoring the cluster of meddling eavesdroppers that dived out of the way, scrambling to hide. "I thought we were over that."

"Y-yes… I don't mean to… but I… I like calling you K-Kurosaki-kun..."

He paused.

Truth was, he liked it too. But it sent mixed signals. He didn't want any guy to wonder if she was his. He wanted them to know it. And girls too. She wasn't the only one off the market.

Ichigo sighed. He'd let that one pass. For now.

He paused for the light and led her across the street when it changed, cutting through pedestrians that swerved to avoid a collision, unnerved or exasperated. Didn't matter. They got the hell out of the way and that was good enough for him.

It only took ten minutes of walking to make it back to campus and four more to march through the athletic field, players looking up as they passed, then by the main hall and into the small café the majority of the student body frequented.

"Ichigo-kun, I don't understand, why are we—"

He turned and gave her arm a tug, letting her fall into him before crushing his mouth back to hers.

The den of noise around them dried up, going quiet.

Good.

He gripped her thigh, hoisted her up to a convenient table and ignored the stuttered protests as the table's current occupants moved aside.

Even better.

He could hear their spectators whispering around them. …What's going on, is it a prank? I don't know, but isn't that Inoue? And Kurosaki? What are they doing? Exactly what it looks like, I guess… Maybe it's a dare. I didn't know they were together…

With one last lick, he released her bottom lip, plucking her from the table and steadying her when she wobbled. Then he threaded their fingers together and began again.

"I-Ichigo-kun! How many times are we going to do this?"

He shrugged, debating on what direction to take as a red-haired man was jerked behind a bush, screaming out a quickly silenced objection.

"Don't know."

She blinked as he settled on course and she was pulled in his wake.

He kissed her once again on the main lawn in front of the library bustling with students picking up textbooks. And again as they passed through the commons, dragging her behind an alcove and performing a much more in-depth job. Although, she suspected that one was for his personal benefit since he hadn't bothered to make a scene.

Overall, his kisses had left her so muddled and dumbfounded, that by the time she was stumbling into his apartment, she didn't have much of an idea how they had gotten there.

Orihime turned to see Ichigo shut the door, gaze fixed, starting toward her before he tensed at the series of small crashes on the other side. Fists clenching, he growled and spun back around, wrenching it back open.

"What the fuck is going on out here? This isn't a spectator sport anymore. Get the hell out."

Ichigo slammed the door and heaved a sigh, but didn't turn. He smoothed a hand over his forehead then dropped it back to his side.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me you loved me, Orihime?"

"W-what…?"

She forgot how to breathe. If he had thrown ice water at her instead, she wouldn't have been as shocked.

Ichigo turned and the only sound in the room was the ticking of his wall clock.

He stared at her for a long second. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Orihime closed her eyes, biting her lip.

How did he know? Had someone told him? She had often wondered who would be the first person to tell the truth. Her or one of their friends. It should have been her. She should have worked up the courage a long time ago, but she hadn't.

It was possible he'd figured things out on his own though... And was that better or worse than someone else letting her secret slip?

She swallowed.

The answer was straight forward enough, and she'd had a long time to think about it.

"You would have felt obligated… I didn't want to be your responsibility. I'm tired of being a responsibility. You. Tatsuki-chan. Uryu-kun and Sado-kun. Sora-nii. Everyone's always had to look after me, and I don't want that." Orihime wrapped her arms around herself and swallowed again. "I can take care of myself now."

It was harder than she thought to face him after saying those things. But when she tried to turn away, he caught her before she had taken more than a half dozen steps and pulled her back, searching her with sharp eyes.

"When you—" He pushed a hand through his hair, a muscle in his jaw ticking. "You lied to me. You said you didn't want love."

"I said I wasn't looking for love, Ichigo-kun. I… I already found it… a long time ago. I just didn't want to burden you with it. Just being near you, being able to know you and be your friend. That was enough for me."

"And what about for me? Did it never occur to you that maybe I felt the same way?"

Ichigo waited for her response.

She loved him...

She loved him and she kept it from him. Tatsuki kept it from him and apparently everyone else as well.

Why?

He watched her lower lip tremble, eyes shining and doubtful.

He should be mad. He should have been fucking pissed at her.

He wasn't.

Reaching out a hand, he tugged a strand of long hair, hard enough that she squeaked, her reverie broken.

"O-Ouch..."

"Then stop making a face. I said I loved you, Orihime. If you cry now, I'll feel like shit." He scowled. "Anyways, since when did you decide to tell me what I do and don't feel?"

"I-I didn't mean—"

"Good."

She took a deep breath and licked her lips, staring at him as if she'd never just sat and looked. Then without warning, her lips trembled and she smiled, her eyes filling as she fought tears, trying to will them back before he saw.

He shook his head, taking the hem of his shirt to brush them away.

"Things are going to be different now, you know. And Tatsuki's going to be pissed." Ichigo nearly grinned at the thought.

Orihime's smile faltered and she tilted her head.

"What…? Why?"

"Well, for one, she's going to have to find a new roommate."

Her eyes widened, lips parting.

And just in case she had it on her mind to say no, he covered them with his.

Then she was back in his arms.

He lifted her, clutching Orihime tighter to his chest as he deepened the kiss.

He couldn't help it. It had just been too fucking long.

He carried her to his bed. The bed he had never shared with anyone else, a bed he hardly ever let anyone else so much as touch. A bed that would only know her.

It felt like an eternity to Orihime since they had been close this way, with the mattress cushioning them as he laid her back.

She shivered as he undressed, piece by piece, watching, fascinated, until he did the same for her. Ichigo's movements were quick, but without the desperation that had marked their previous encounters. Now, there was no race against time, and no urgency beyond the simple need to be closer.

"Put your legs around me."

Orihime obeyed, reaching up for him as he settled over her and he went willingly into her arms, closing his eyes as she wrapped around him, skin to skin.

His moves were gentler than before as he pushed in to her. Drawn-out.

Ichigo worked her smoothly, taking his time, feeling every bit of contact, the soft suction, the flexing of her muscles surrounding him as he moved slow and deliberate. So much fucking feeling he felt blinded by it. Felt as though he'd never have enough, could never take her enough to satisfy the hunger for her.

He buried his face in silken hair, felt her legs lock around his back as he rocked in time to the pulse fluttering in her neck. Because this, the feverish desperation to touch and be touched, the soul-shaking sense of belonging, just… her. It was enough to fight for, to die for.

Fuck. He loved her so damned much.

His arms tightened around her as he felt her tense, her body slickening, easing his way as he began to move faster. Harder. He needed her. Needed more and more. Needed to feel her gripping him tighter, her body getting hotter, and then she cried out his name. And that more than any fleeting pleasure, filled him with elation.

He pushed deeper, stealing her breath. Her arms clutching at him as desire turned to something bright and sharp.

His groans covered her gasps, and when ecstasy exploded between them, she felt the sweet, blistering fire of it. Sweat-dampened and sated, they collapsed in each other's arms.

Ichigo groaned, touching his forehead to hers, staring down at her. "I do love you, Orihime."

She stilled, blinked. "I… I love you, too."

He smiled, kissed her softly before pulling her over him, settling her back into place and tucking her head under his chin. "Don't leave me again. Do you hear me?"

Orihime swallowed and nodded.

Satisfied, he dragged the comforter over them.

"Damn. Maybe I can fucking sleep now." He sighed. "It kept me awake, missing you."

Orihime hadn't slept, either, but she slept now, deep and dreamless. Held in his arms, where he protected her. Even from herself.

.

.

.

.

Fin.

A/N

Seriously, this time. :)

So very sorry about this chapter, btw. I can't do fluff. I just can't… I tried so hard. Ah! But I hope you enjoyed the story anyways. I know I had a lot of fun writing it. And thanks to everyone that reviewed and fav'd and watched. You have my eternal and undying love! :D

Oh! And if you ever venture over to Deviant Art, visit me at the IchiHime group BlackMoonWhiteSun! I'm going to be getting some art contests going (hopefully) and I love chatting, even if I'm awful at timely responses. Ha ha ha… Okay.

Feel free to tell me what you thought of this by leaving a review! And I'll be starting a new loooong fic soon. A vamp fic, believe it or not :) But after I fulfill all of my other promises and obligations. So question. Are there any characters you would like to see? This would help me a great deal since I can't seem to settle on them.

Thanks again for reading!

❤Ash