Ichigo hasn't been sleeping well lately. His dreams range unpredictably from blissful to miserable, sometimes with a confusing jumble of both at once. It becomes so irritating that he almost longs for the high school nights when he rarely slept but at least it was because of Hollow hunting. Now the reason he can't seem to rest these days is something he can't do a damn thing about.

He is on a cool-down period with Ishida. As soon as they got back from the weekend trip, Ichigo basically started avoiding him at all costs. Surprisingly, Ishida has been allowing this without complaint. Maybe he is just as eager to put some physical and emotional distance between them as Ichigo after they accidentally crossed too many inappropriate lines in a short period of time. For all he knows, Ishida could be permanently scarred from that awkward massage and want nothing further to do with him.

It's probably time to explain himself, Ichigo knows, but he still can't bring himself to admit the cause of all this drama. Although at this rate he may very well lose Ishida's friendship if he doesn't take a chance. That thought is what inspires him to take a half-step toward confessing at last. Albeit after a couple weeks of radio silence with the object of his perpetual brooding. Since he isn't sure if Ishida really is avoiding him, too, he doesn't bother with calling first. Ichigo just shows up at his apartment one quiet Friday night.

They have this routine where Ishida opens the door right before Ichigo can knock because he always senses him coming. It happened so often that eventually he stopped thinking to knock. He stands in front of the door now, expecting Ishida to appear in the door frame like usual. It takes him a moment to realize this is why he is confused, staring at the green metal wondering what's wrong with this picture. Rolling his eyes at himself, Ichigo knocks. Waits. No answer.

Now he is really confused because he can definitely feel Ishida's reiatsu inside. He tries the handle and discovers that it is unlocked.

"Ishida?" he calls, cautiously stepping inside. Hearing Ishida's low voice speaking from his bedroom, Ichigo locks the door behind him and says, "Hey, why didn't you answer the door?"

Right after he kicks off his shoes and strolls into the living room, Ishida emerges from his bedroom looking irritated with his cell phone in hand.

"I was on the phone. What are you doing here, Kurosaki? I don't recall inviting you over."

"Since when has that stopped me?" he flippantly retorts as he flops onto the sofa. "I have something to tell you."

Ishida watches him for a moment, raising an eyebrow when the revelation doesn't come. Ichigo pats the cushion beside him in a silent request. Frowning in agitation, he obligingly walks over and sinks into the seat to face him with one leg bent and his arms folded across his chest.

"What is it this time? Are you here to explain why you've been avoiding me?"

"Yes." Surprise flashes across his features. Ishida clearly wasn't anticipating compliance. "Okay, you're going to think I'm messing with you or that I'm crazy but bear with me. Part of the reason I've been acting like such a freak lately is because I-I'm...uh. Well, I'm pretty sure I might be..."

"You're what?"

"A little bit—more than a little, probably—like a four or five? Not really sure how that scale works, actually."

"If you're not going to make any sense, you should probably just leave." Rising to a stand, Ishida starts to walk away. "I have a lot to get done tonight and I don't have time for your babbling."

Ichigo grabs his arm in mild panic, "Wait! If I don't say this now, I don't think I'll ever be able to."

"Then quit with the games and spit it out, Kurosaki!"

"I like guys!" Whipping his head around to stare, Ishida's eyes flare wide before narrowing in doubt. "At least, I think I do. One in particular, anyway."

"Congratulations?" he tries with a slight tilt of his head, gently tugging free of Ichigo's grip. "Is this one of those things where you had to tell someone to get it off your mind? Was your dubious bisexuality weighing you down, Kurosaki?"

"No, nothing like that."

Rubbing a hand wearily over his face, Ichigo shakes his head and sucks in a long breath. He really bungled this, didn't he? Now more than ever Ishida probably thinks he's nuts. This is exactly why it has taken him so long to even admit this much. How is he supposed to convince Ishida that he has secretly been in love with him for years if he scrutinizes everything that comes out of Ichigo's mouth, for good reason?

"That still doesn't explain your recent behavior towards me. Did you think I would disapprove? Hardly. Who's the lucky fellow?"

"Come on, Ishida, you of all people can't be this oblivious. Are you gonna make me say it?"

"What are you on about now?" he angrily demands. "I'm supposed to read your mind? Do you have any idea how chaotic your line of reasoning tends to be compared with normal people?"

"Fine, I'll spell it out for you."

Taking a breath in the penultimate moment before he drops the ultimate bomb, Ichigo freezes. He can't say it out loud because he has already said it so many times in his head that it sounds too strange now. The words won't even form on his tongue. What if Ishida rejects him outright? What if he laughs it off as a joke? What if he never wants to speak to Ichigo again? He's already on shaky ground after all the stupid shit he has been doing lately. This could be the final straw that ruins a perfectly functional friendship.

"Well?" Seeing how Ichigo is grappling with this, Ishida takes pity on him. He schools his features into something calm and resumes his spot on the couch. "Whatever it is, I won't get mad so just tell me if it's that important to you."

A hand is carefully lowered to rest on Ichigo's between them on the cushion. Between his sympathetic assurance and this accepting gesture, a wall comes crumbling down inside him. Air rushes out in a shaky sigh as the tension leaves his shoulders. Ichigo raises his eyes to meet Ishida's and murmurs what is probably the most important phrase of his life.

"I'm in love with you."

Ishida blinks once. Then he grabs Ichigo by the shirt and he has a half-second to hope, to dream that maybe Ishida wants to kiss him. That notion is cruelly dashed when he is dragged from the couch and shoved toward the door instead. Ichigo struggles and tells him to wait but Ishida is much stronger when he is pissed and he flings his quarry against the door before yanking it open roughly enough to rock it in its hinges.

"Get out of my apartment, Kurosaki," he snarls when Ichigo digs his nails into the frame and holds on for dear life. "Fair warning: I'm on the verge of violence right now so I wouldn't test me if I were you."

"At least let me explain!"

"I don't want to hear it!" Ishida roars back, reddening with fury. "Whatever moronic impulse compelled you to utter such nonsense...This is my very least favorite thing about your personality."

"It's true, damn it! Just hear me out?"

Terrified that Ishida will succeed in kicking him out, Ichigo pushes back so hard that they tumble to the floor, ricocheting off the door with a force that causes it to bounce from the wall and slam shut. Ishida takes it as the start of a fight, too enraged to see it for the accident it was. He lands a punch to Ichigo's gut that knocks the wind from him. It only devolves from there. Even though this is something they are used to as a ready alternative to settling petty arguments peaceably, Ichigo feels out of his element when all he wants to do is make Ishida understand.

Why is it that out of the dozens, hundreds, thousands of scenarios he has envisioned for this moment, none of them resulted in an actual fist-fight? It's still better than a cold rejection, he guesses.

Ishida whacks him in the nose, drawing blood. The sight of it is enough to temporarily deter his fierce momentum. Ishida lets off with a growl of frustration, twisting to sit panting on the floor next to him in a silent truce. A sharp glare bores into Ichigo when he props himself up on an elbow, pinching his nose to stem the flow with his head back. After a minute or two of catching their breath and cooling off, a tinge of contrition pinches Ishida's visage.

"I warned you," he turns his head away and grumbles. "You never listen to me."

"Couldn't leave it like that," Ichigo nasally mutters in return. "You'd never forgive me."

Gracefully standing, he strides down the hall and comes right back with a box of tissues that he offers Ichigo. He takes three or four and mops up the mess on his face. The pain is minimal, so he's pretty sure it isn't broken. It might have already stopped bleeding. Ishida leans against the wall and lets his head dip to stare at his feet. Ichigo can tell he wants to apologize but he won't. This is also something they have done many times before.

"Is this because of what I said at the onsen? About wanting that man to flirt with me?"

His voice is quiet, almost as though he wishes Ichigo won't hear.

"No."

"I didn't even mean it. You know those cheerful, talkative types make me nervous."

"Yeah."

"I only said it because you were acting like a jealous thug."

"I was so jealous," Ichigo admits with a hint of humor at his own foolishness. "Still kind of am."

They share a look. Then Ishida cracks a smirk on a soft laugh. He offers a hand to help Ichigo up and leads him to the kitchen. Wetting a washcloth, Ishida pulls his hand away and dabs at the drying blood with a look of concentration. Ichigo doesn't even try hiding the fact that he's using this opportunity to stare at Ishida's face up-close. Of course he gets the strongest urge to lean forward and steal a kiss, but Ichigo knows better than to try.

"Do you want some ice to put on it?"

"Nah," he declines but Ishida goes to the freezer anyway. Ichigo sidles up beside him and asks, "Will you hit me again if I call you by your given name?"

"Yes."

The answer is quick but not biting. It feels more like harmless banter. Ishida tosses some cubes into a bag and slams it on the counter to break them into smaller chips that will contour to the bridge of his nose. He lifts the bag to set it in place but Ichigo stops him with a loose grip on his wrist. Ishida won't meet his gaze.

"Look at me, Uryuu." He does, but with an annoyed quirk to his mouth. "Will you get mad if I say that I've wanted you for years?"

"I'm already mad," Ishida snaps, shoving the ice against his chest for him to catch and pivoting on a heel to leave. Ichigo's hold on his wrist tightens to hold him firm. "Let go."

"If you're already mad and you've already hit me..." reasons Ichigo with a playful smirk, "Then what do I have left to lose?"

"Your life."

Ichigo ponders that for a second, eyebrows raised. "Good point."

He starts to move and Ishida's eyes widen because he knows what it means, but he doesn't have time to evade. Ichigo barely manages to graze their lips together in a light kiss. Ishida responds by shaking his arm free and stepping out of range. Although he turns his head to hide it, Ichigo catches the way he flushes and makes a soundless gasp.

"G-go home, Kurosaki!"

"Don't wanna."

Taking advantage of the fact that Ishida doesn't want to show his face, he steps behind him and drops his hands to tense shoulders. Ichigo ignores the way he twitches at the touch and starts to knead the knotted muscles, just like he did at the onsen. Ishida's breathing stays tight and measured, but he also stays still and quiet. Even the kisses Ichigo leans forward to dust along the back of his neck don't scare him off. They coax a strained sigh from Ishida as he visibly surrenders to this.

That's when Ichigo inches closer to wrap his arms around Ishida's middle and nuzzle his cheek against smooth hair.

"Kurosaki," he accuses in a strangled voice, "You idiot."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Ichigo replies, stealing a line once spoken by the Ishida in his imagination. "For the longest time, I was convinced you only liked girls since I saw you kissing Inoue years ago. Why did you lie when I brought it up the next day?"

"Something like that...it was too embarrassing to discuss with you. I thought you just wanted to tease me." Ishida shifts in his hold to look at him as he asks, "If you saw us like that, then what changed your mind?"

"A dream, actually. Back at the onsen, you got so frustrated with me that you tied me up, kinbaku-style, and forced me to tell you why I had been acting like such a jerk. Dream-you told me Inoue asked you to do it but that was it. Then you fed me sushi and I liked it so much that—Um." Too quick to miss Ichigo's flash of embarrassment, Ishida lifts one suspicious eyebrow. "Anyway, I guess the dream combined with your comment about flirting with dudes made me think twice about it."

"You weren't too far off. Inoue-san did ask me to kiss her, but at the time I wanted to do it, too. I thought I loved her."

Panicking a little at that, Ichigo spins him by his shoulders to look at him properly, "But you didn't, right? You don't?"

"No," he confirms with a dash of nervous laughter, "I didn't and I certainly don't. Not in that way."

The relief makes him overconfident, makes him fall against Ishida's mouth and steal a much deeper kiss than the one before. Ishida breathes a startled sound and half-heartedly tries to reverse. An insistent hand curling at the back of his neck stops him cold. His lips part in defeat and his fingers grip at the back of Ichigo's shirt. A brief hesitation is all it takes for Ishida to allow his tongue inside.

They stand in the middle of Ishida's kitchen, kissing far too loudly in the quiet apartment, until Ichigo is woozy with it. Three times Ishida tilts to snatch a desperate breath but Ichigo won't let him go far. He has waited too long for this to finally happen and he won't be satisfied unless it is done right. Thoughts of everything else he has waited to do with Ishida start flooding in, turning his kisses demanding and tipping him into dangerous territory.

His hold tightens until there is no space left between them. Feeling Ishida's entire body against him and listening to the happy, urgent noises he is making heats his blood too quickly. He wars with himself, wanting to hurry—shove, take, devour—but also wanting to take it slow—savor, sense, seduce. Hands start to shake and the disparate pieces of Ichigo are crumbling apart while melting together. In the end, an old anxiety wins out above everything else.

"Okay," he wrenches himself from Ishida to begin, "Okay, this is going to sound so stupid and lame and clingy but I have to know that this is mutual. Are you feeling this, too?"

Without the support of Ichigo's arms holding him steady, Ishida takes two short steps backward to lean gasping against the counter with flushed cheeks. He brings a hand up to cover his mouth as he stares towards the floor in nothing short of full-blown shock. His eyes jolt up to meet Ichigo's after a long moment.

"I'm definitely feeling it," Ishida lowers his arm to quietly confirm, gaze flicking to Ichigo's mouth, "Difficult not to."

"Then you'll go out with me? Fuck, I've been waiting to ask you that forever...I have so many ideas of stuff to do that we both like, places we haven't gone yet and—"

"Kurosaki." The use of his family name combined with the stoic expression Ishida shows him create an agonizing foreboding inside him. "This is the turning point. Last chance to take it all back and just be friends. Maybe the idea of dating me seems fun, but there's a reason I'm always single: I'm kind of a complete mess, emotionally."

"And I'm not?"

"...Good point."

Ichigo beams, creeping closer. "So is that a 'yes'?"

"Only if you swear not to regret it later," Ishida mumbles with the hint of an answering smile. "I want your solemn vow, Ichigo, that you'll take full blame if it ends in tragedy."

Heart squeezing at the sound of his name, Ichigo grabs him to press silly kisses all over his face despite a persistent grin.

"I swear, Uryuu. If you decide you hate me and never want to speak to me again, it's totally my fault," he blurts in a single breath, "Because I already know there's no way I'll ever get sick of you. I love you."

He keeps professing it, holding Ishida close and kissing him everywhere. Although he half-heartedly opposes this onslaught of affection at first, soon he drops his guard and lets Ichigo lead him into the living room. They collapse to the couch in a heap of breathless laughter. Ishida slides off his glasses to blot an amused tear from the corner of his eye and Ichigo uses the distraction to duck in and start kissing his throat. He hears the glasses touch the table before Ishida's hand is guiding him by the chin to meet his mouth.

While he had primarily accepted Ichigo's kisses earlier, now he returns the gesture with noticeable intent, even going as far as initiating another level of it. Ishida's hands start to wander while Ichigo's still in concentration. Those slender fingers find the edge of his shirt and sneak below, one rubbing slow circles across his lower back, the other inching up his stomach. Ishida slides his tongue in deep as his thumb rubs firmly over a hardening nipple.

Releasing a devastated moan, Ichigo urges his hands into action but all they do is lift to tangle in dark, silky hair. Ishida seems to approve of fingertips tracing across his scalp; he rewards this consideration by lowering a hand to rest at the top of his thigh, right over the outline of his erection. Ichigo jerks out of the kiss with a startled gasp. His eyes drop in time to watch Ishida lightly squeeze and massage with the heel of his palm.

"Oh fuck, Uryuu, that feels so good," he exhales in a rush, "We should stop now, or I might attack you."

"What do you think I'm doing right now?"

The husky tone of his voice sends a strong shiver down his back, where Ishida shifts his grip to grab Ichigo's ass in an aggressive gesture. His body moves without his command, shoving Ishida to the cushions and scrabbling at his shirt and pants to get them open. He smirks up at Ichigo with half-lidded eyes and holds his arms out of the way so his clothes can be ripped from his frame. Clever bastard probably senses exactly how much Ichigo has wanted to strip him like this.

Ishida hums approvingly as his neck, chest, and abs are licked, nipped, and sucked. Bright teeth sink into his bottom lip when Ichigo roughly yanks off his jeans with an impatient growl. He groans loudly and stuffs his fist between his teeth to block the sound when Ichigo takes him in hand. The arm is snatched away, knuckles stamped with fresh pink impressions, and Ishida arches to feel a thumb nudging into the sensitive divot of his dick.

"Keep your hands away from your mouth," Ichigo gruffly commands between heavy breaths, "I want to hear every sound you make for me clearly."

Then he dives down and sucks hard, reveling in the surprised cry as Ishida digs his fingers into the upholstery.

"Ichigo! Gods," he huffs between more of those alluring moans, "Knew you'd be like this. Always thought you would...Nnnh...fuck like you fight."

Brimming with pride at the compliment, Ichigo decides he likes the sound of that. Although he doesn't want to 'defeat' Ishida so much as utterly 'destroy' him in a different sense. Then he realizes that Ishida just admitted he has thought of him in this way, maybe even many times before. It makes him so happy that Ichigo doesn't let up several moments later when he is haltingly warned. He drags Ishida over the edge and basks in accomplishment when he loses his fucking mind at the dexterous flick of Ichigo's tongue.

Ecstasy is written all over Ishida's face when he finally lets up.

"How's that for a quick-and-dirty battle?" Ichigo teases with an arrogant smirk.

"Why did you wait so long?" he returns almost angrily, struggling to sit upright with muscles gone pleasure-pliant, "We could have been giving each other orgasms like that all this time!"

Even if Ichigo had a response, he wouldn't get to say it with Ishida yanking him forward to connect their mouths. Ishida spills into his lap and kisses him into submission—Ichigo can already tell they're going to be a couple who kisses way too much. His hands settle at Ishida's hips and curve over, appreciating the way his ass feels cupped between splayed fingers. The snap of his slacks opening almost goes unnoticed under the sounds of his own eager groans.

Propping against his shoulder for support, Ishida reaches down to draw him from the cramped confines of his boxers. Ichigo's head tilts to knock against the back of the sofa on a silent sob. Ishida doesn't waste the opportunity to nibble his ear unhindered as he sets an indolent pace with a tight fist. But Ichigo was already about to follow Ishida just by listening to the sultry noises he made while going down on him, and he isn't going to last long now.

"Uryuu, go faster," he rasps despite jolts of strangling pleasure, "So close."

"Hmm, I don't think so." Ichigo's eyes flutter open in shock at those words to see him smiling evilly. "I'll make it last, Ichigo. Draw it out until you're nearly mad with desire. I want to watch you fall apart at my touch like nothing will ever make you feel this good."

"I'm already there!" His breath catches at the expert twist of Ishida's wrist. "Please, Uryuu..."

"Yes," he hisses and sinks to kneel on the floor between Ichigo's knees, pushing them further apart. "I want to hear more of that."

Lips graze his cock and Ichigo curses under his breath to feel his balls tightening. Ishida quickly wraps a securing grip around the base before swiping his tongue over the top. Once again, his hands can only reach for Ishida's hair like some kind of anchor keeping him tied to shore. A pleased hum slips out and Ichigo can't stop himself from bucking up at the thrilling sensation. The fact that Ishida reacts to the accident by easily taking more of him in sends his brain tripping over itself in lust.

Ishida tortures him well beyond reason, as promised, in spite of Ichigo's repeated requests to do otherwise. Eventually, he gives up fighting and clings to the backboard while his hips rock in unsteady little thrusts that Ishida loosens his jaw to allow. Sweat drips down his skin. His eyes refuse to focus even when he can force them open, but Ichigo keeps trying so he can watch the bobbing head at work. It makes the pressure that much more intense.

Suddenly an important thought breaks through the haze.

"Is this...my punishment?" he asks. Ishida's eyes swivel up as his movements slow but don't pause. "F-for taking...too long to say it?"

That vise-grip disappears and Ichigo comes so hard his entire body snaps taut. Lungs freeze up and brain burns out. He's not sure where he goes or for how long, but when he gets back Ishida is mouthing sloppy kisses against his working belly. Seeing Ichigo's eyes on him, he climbs back into his lap and sucks on his neck instead.

"Yes."

"Yeah, what?" Ichigo huffs, still recovering.

"Yes, that was your 'punishment for taking too long to say it'. Now that's out of the way, we can move on—"

"Good."

"—To the bedroom and continue this endeavor somewhere with a little more space."

"Huh?"

"You're not the only one who has been watching a friend with wicked thoughts, Ichigo. We have a lot to make up for. Fortunately, I have plenty of lube."

As Ichigo is unceremoniously tugged off the couch and towards Ishida's bedroom, he can't even be annoyed about all the times he almost confessed but couldn't. He doesn't regret countless hours spent longing for more than platonic friendship but too terrified of losing what they had to try. All he can think is how lucky he is to finally, finally see Ishida's sexy smile directed at only him.