Morning After

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Notes: As cliché as hell – with an unimaginably creative title as well. I'm sure this has been done to death before. I'm new to the fandom and though I tried to keep the characters IC, this is new territory for me. It's not my best diction, but I really had fun writing this. All feedback accepted (yes, you can criticise me. I won't bite, really. I'll probably love you forever). However, don't treat this too seriously.

His head throbbed painfully; he felt like he'd been hit with a hammer and partied too long. Whatever it was, Ishida had never felt worse in his life and he'd been close to feeling pretty shitty quite often in his short existence – being a Quincy wasn't exactly all sunshine and flowers. Still, he'd never had a hangover before. And he wasn't sure whether he liked it.

He must have been nuts to have gotten drunk with Kurosaki, of all people. Correction: he must have crazy to drink at all. First of all, however, he had to figure what the hell was going on.

It was cool and for a short instant, he had no idea why he felt so cold until he noticed several, remarkable details about his predicament: firstly, he was naked and secondly, this wasn't his own room. He didn't even have to wear his glasses to get that.

He didn't recall owning such a large bed or having such a messy room. Ishida was a perfectionist and as a perfectionist, his room was quite neat. This wasn't the greatest problem though – he wasn't alone. Lying close to him, with his hand placed over Ishida's stomach was Ichigo, snoring as contentedly as if he'd won a million in the lottery. Or gotten laid.

Bingo, was Ishida's first thought, but he dismissed it. It had to be something else.

A snoring Kurosaki drooling on his pillow was a contemptuous sight. Ishida could barely tolerate the idiot on a daily basis and now he was stuck in this awkward kind of situation. From the looks of it – the blanket that merely covered the lower regions of their bodies – Kurosaki was naked as well. As in, naked as on the day he'd been born.

Oh no. No.

What the fuck had happened? Ishida had no idea, whether this was a joke, some kind of nightmare or a fever-induced hallucination. However, he wasn't an idiot and quickly put two and two together. He wasn't top of his class for nothing.

Me and Ichigo are naked. In his bed. And I feel sore in places that – better not think about that.

No, he wouldn't think about that event at all. It had been an awful mistake, probably some kind of lapse in judgement – he wouldn't have done it, otherwise. He'd been drunk, that was it. He really hadn't intended to lose his virginity to Ichigo Kurosaki. In fact, he would have been perfectly happy with remaining a virgin all his life – sex was nasty, all about exchanging body fluids with ... having Ichigo kiss him all over, hot and warm and yes, oh so good.

Don't think about that. DON'T even think it was enjoyable.

Ishida nearly screamed, but remembered where he was. He had to get out.

Freeing himself from Ichigo's semi-embrace, he hurriedly searched for his clothes and put them on, including his glasses. He wasn't going to linger, lest the fucker actually woke up. The best thing to do was to pretend that it had never happened, that Kurosaki would never know. He groaned when he felt a stinging sensation – he was going to walk weirdly, but he wouldn't remain in this room for all the price in the world.

Ichigo shifted in his sleep and never looking back, Ishida slipped out of the room. He vowed never to drink alcohol again.

Ichigo felt really weird this morning. He'd woken up stark naked and there'd been a bottle of good ole' whisky lying underneath his bed. Apparently, he had gotten more than just a little intoxicated and done something. But he couldn't figure what he'd done. He only knew that it must have been something really wacky. His nakedness and the soiled sheets suggested that it had involved sex – and this was seriously unnerving. Ichigo wasn't the sort to sleep around: he'd never been in bed with anyone before and this was ...

Oh please, this was pathetic.

Rukia would have mocked him heartlessly had she been here. Thankfully, she was too busy doing whatever she did in Soul Society with Renji – he really doubted that the two of them were merely childhood friends. What with them exchanging secret glances and holding hands, whenever they thought no one was watching. Even Ichigo, who was an oblivious twit, knew that something was a-brewing there. But he didn't have time to think about this.

He really needed to talk to that Ishida bastard. If anyone knew what had happened, it had to be him. It wasn't like he was really that curious: sex for Ichigo wasn't something worth the huge trouble, but ... still.

He did remember a few things – like the person having really pale skin and black hair. And moaning a lot, being tight, sweaty and really responsive. But that wasn't hell of a lot. Oh well, if it was remotely possible, Ichigo was resolved to know whom he'd been with. So, he could shake hands with the person or something. After all, you didn't just lose your virginity all of these days.

Luckily, Ishida was easily found, although he seemed rather intent not to notice Ichigo's presence. He downright ignored him, which angered the other teen. So, he yelled and that made Ishida finally acknowledge him; it shouldn't have been that hard.

"I was talking to you."

"What do you want, Kurosaki ?" Ishida asked, pronouncing each word carefully as if talking to Ichigo were a mental strain. No, he wasn't in a good mood: he'd been hoping to avoid meeting the other boy, but fate wasn't on his side. Just when he thought he'd been safe, Ichigo had approached him. Fantastic.

"Do you remember what happened last night? " Ichigo asked, straightforward as ever. He wasn't going to skip around the bush, not him.

Ishida stiffened immediately. He was strangely tense and couldn't see Ichigo in the face; this was really weird. Normally, the boy didn't shy away from Ichigo like that, but looked him straight in the eye and defied him, wherever possible.

"Nothing happened. Why should have anything happened?"

"Did you, um, perhaps see me leave with someone?"

"Why?"

Better just tell him.

"Look, I woke up naked and I think I had sex with someone last night. I can recall some bits and pieces-"

Ichigo noticed that his friend had paled considerably and was trying his best not to meet his glance. Again. What the hell was with the guy today?

Weird.

"You can?"

"Yeah, and if you could-"

He never got the chance to finish; the other boy pushed his glasses further up his nose and turned away from him, grabbing his bag.

"I have to leave, Kurosaki. As interesting as your problems are, I have work to do."

And with that, the other boy was gone and Ichigo was struck dumb. He didn't know what he had said could have counted as offensive or weird for Ishida to make such a run for hills. Well, actually, the boy wasn't running, but walked a bit strangely – as if he'd toppled down the stairs or been walking for hours straight.

Ichigo shrugged his shoulders and thought that it was just one of Ishida's usual moods: it wasn't like he'd ever been outright civil to him. He should have known not to bother with that idiot.

Ichigo's return home wasn't eventful. He felt disappointed that he hadn't learnt anything at all. It wasn't the most important thing in the world; he wouldn't die knowing who the hell he'd screwed first. Perhaps, it was better so; it could have been someone old or something like that. Indeed, Ishida's behaviour annoyed him more than the whole-not-knowing whom I fucked thing.

He could at least have been nice about it. Asshole.

Seeing his father, though, didn't cheer up Ichigo either. He felt another headache coming on: Isshin and headaches walked hand-in-hand.

"What is it, old man?"

"Your friend's not with you?"

"Which friend?" Ichigo asked, not knowing what the hell this was about again.

Isshin was a weird man, batshit crazy in fact. He knew he should have respected his old man and all, but it wasn't always easy. Especially when your father had the fashion taste of a retired clown and seemed to think that it was okay for a middle-aged man to watch cartoons. Whatever. This was probably another of his jokes.

"The one whom you brought home yesterday. That bespectacled fellow."

There weren't many "bespectacled fellows" in Ichigo's life. He only knew one person that the description fit to a T. It couldn't be. If this was true, then he'd .. Perhaps, he was going deaf, which was weird at his young age, but this was the only logical explanation for all this.

"Ishida?"

"Yes, you both came here – flaming drunk -- and made quite a night of it," Isshin replied all too cheerfully, like it was a common day's occurrence. Like having sex with your supposed rival was okay. Then again, Ichigo wasn't as troubled as he should have been.

"What are you saying?"

"Oh come on; I know what you did. You don't have to be ashamed. I don't mind your being gay. Love is love."

He's crazy. I'm not in love with that dork. I mean – ah, fuck it. Still, the thought that I might have screwed him... Wow. It does make sense now. I should have guessed from the black hair and pale skin. Stupid Ishida. He had the nerve to – I'll make him pay.

"But next time, use this."

If Ichigo thought his father was strange, then this made him thing him doubt his parent's sanity. From what he could decipher, this was some kind of lotion and Ichigo never used lotion. He wasn't a girl, for fuck's sake!

"What is that ... thing?"

"Lube. So your friend won't have to limp like he did. You use this to make anal sex less uncomfortable – and..."

"Enough. I get it. But, hey, did Ishida really leave the house this morning?"

"Oh yes. And he was red in the face, trying desperately to be inconspicuous. He thought I was asleep, but I could see him alright. He's an amusing kid."

More like a dork.

Ichigo had to stop himself from snorting. He could just imagine how Ishida, stubborn idiot that he was, had slipped out in the still dark morning, walking like a staggering drunkard all the way home. Well, it just proved how much of an idiot he was. Strangely, the fact that he'd screwed Ishida the night before didn't really unnerve him that much. He could have done worse.

Ichigo wasn't an easily intimidated person: he belonged to the sort that fought off resistance with head-strong determination. And he was determined to make Ishida listen to him. He'd also beat the crap out of him for playing such tricks on him. But not before he kissed him. It didn't make sense, but Ichigo wasn't going to waste time on thinking why he wanted to do just that. He wanted to and that was enough. Pondering over things was overrated.

So, imbibed with these hasty and not all too noble resolutions, he walked all the way to Ishida's shabby, stupid apartment and knocked angrily against the door.

He knocked thrice, loudly – it would have been enough to wake up an entire army of zombies. Ishida opened the door, his irritation showing plainly in his face.

"What the hell? You-"

"You lied to me."

"So? Leave, Kurosaki."

Ichigo had no intention of leaving and to Ishida's dismay stormed right into the apartment, as if he'd been actually invited. Then again, he'd never been one for civility or politeness.

"Ishida, you're an ass."

"Anything new? Or did you come here to tell me all this?"

"I asked about you last night."

"Don't remind me of that."

"You didn't tell me it was you, that you were the one I had sex with."

Ishida looked away and then furiously spat out:

"It's not important. I was drunk – let's just forget it."

"I don't want to forget it. It's something we should talk about."

God, I sound like a sap. But fucking hell, he's irritating me.

"I don't remember a thing. Get out."

Ishida wasn't going to listen to this. He had a hard enough time pretending that he didn't care and to have Kurosaki pestering him now was unbearable; he couldn't believe how persistent the other guy was. Couldn't he just drop it? Yet, no matter what he did, the idiot didn't stop trying or shut his yap. Once again, Ichigo was sprouting nonsense.

"We're friends, right? So, there's no point in ignoring this."

"We're not even friends. Not really. "

Oh for fuck's sake. Ishida – you just don't leave me another option. Your fault.

Ichigo didn't really let Ishida finish his sentence, but silenced him with a kiss. It was awkward all right – he didn't really know how to kiss and felt it wasn't sexy at all. All right, it was wet and fuck, Ishida's mouth was soft. But he wasn't responding at all. He stood still and unresponsive, like he'd been frozen on the spot. No, this wasn't fun at all and Ichigo pulled back, not at all satisfied.

No butterflies or anything. Perhaps, this stuff is overrated.

"You could at least try to kiss back," he said angrily, observing how aggravated Ishida looked. It was amusing, very much so. Because he was trying too hard – too hard to show that he didn't care. Ichigo was resolved to break down his defences.

"I didn't want to be kissed by you, idiot."

"You're just scared because you suck at it."

Oh yes, this was the way. He knew that if one thing managed to get under Ishida's skin, then it was the hint that he wasn't good at something. They were rivals, after all. It was all about being better than the other and Ichigo didn't see how this was any different. This was all part of a game.

Ishida shouldn't have been affected by this childish debate. He really shouldn't have. But he was a man and men should have their pride – and as a member of the male sex, he couldn't let the other get away with it. He wasn't going to go down as a bad kisser, never mind the fact that he hadn't done it all that often before. Actually, that until last night, he hadn't ever done it at all.

"Shut up, Kurosaki."

This time, it was Ishida's lips slammed against his own and Ichigo opened his mouth, allowing the other to deepen the kiss. He rather liked it – very, very much indeed.

Ishida didn't push away when he felt Ichigo's hands wrapping themselves around his shoulders and pulling him closer; he was too deeply immersed in what shouldn't have felt that good, but nevertheless, was fantastic. He was going to hell for this, but he couldn't help himself – he liked this way too much.

Ichigo broke the kiss, only to say:

"You sure you didn't want to kiss me, Ishida?"

"I was just trying to prove a point. I don't -"

"Liar. You're enjoying this. You like kissing me, Ishida."

"No, I don't-"

Kurosaki – fuck, Ichigo – certainly knew how to shut him up; he moaned into the kiss and allowed himself to just lose himself in the sensation of fighting tooth and nail over dominance in the kiss. It was like quarrelling with Ichigo, only more arousing and very stimulating – he was drowning, dying and gasping for breath. He pulled away, only to have Ichigo attack his neck with kisses and a hand – rough and calloused – travelled downwards, until it reached his way too prominent arousal. Oh shit.

"Kurosaki..."

"Call me Ichigo, say my name."

"Don't Ichigo. Don't. It's – ahh."

Ichigo's hand was stroking him now, pumping faster and faster and this was totally beyond his control now. He couldn't do anything, but arch and grunt.

"What- not there!"

But Ichigo totally touched him there and Ishida's head bumped against the wall; his glasses slid off his nose.

"Better take them off..." Ichigo murmured and took off Ishida's glasses, placing them on the nearest shelf he could find. Hell, the guy had a pretty face – quite pretty. He shouldn't have hid it under those idiotic spectacles of his. And Ichgio was intent on making that face moan with pleasure; he was going to win this challenge, going to prove that he never backed down from a fight.

He's beautiful, in fact. Who knew that Ishida was so hot under the nerdy exterior?

This should have been uncomfortable – after all, this was another guy's dick he was putting into his mouth. But truth to be told, it wasn't half as disgusting as he'd believed it would be: he sucked gingerly at first, just testing how Ishida reacted to the contact. To his surprise, the boy's head slammed harshly against the wall for the second time that night and he moaned quite loudly. So, this had to feel quite good. Feeling more confident, Ichigo licked experimentally against the head and then, slowly licked the cock, lavishly letting his tongue circle around the head.

"Fuck this, feels ... I -"

Ichigo knew the boy wasn't going to last long and he was hard himself. He was fed up with only pleasuring the other boy; he needed to be inside Ishida now because he was going to die, otherwise. Not because he was so madly in love with Uryu Ishida, but because he was sporting a raging hard on and needed to get rid off it (and the best solution his hormonal brain offered was to take Ishida right here and now).

He didn't know much about gay sex, though the little hint of his father's made him halt a second. This was for Ishida's good. Besides, sex wasn't enjoyable, if your partner moaned and writhed in pain, not pleasure.

He fished the lube out of his pockets and uncapping it, smeared some of the cool lubrication on his fingers and without further ado, rubbed his member with it. He felt awkward, but wouldn't let Ishida see it. However, he couldn't deny that this was weird and – yeah.

Ishida, meanwhile, was too busy breathing heavily and still trying to gain control over himself. He had no idea what to do; this wasn't how he had expected things to turn out at all. Having sex with Ichigo Kurosaki hadn't crossed his mind – at least, he wouldn't have ever admitted out loud to it. When he felt fingers stretching him in that area, he sucked in breath and nearly bit off his tongue in shock. Ishida had no idea what this was supposed to be – well he did, but it was uncomfortable.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, but Ichigo silenced him with another kiss.

"I'll fuck you now, so just hold your tongue."

"No-"

"You want this just as much; don't lie."

No I don't- I won't let this happen. Kurosaki isn't what I need...

It was too late; Ichigo had already entered him and feeling him inside made all protests coiling inside of Ishida melt away. He couldn't deny that this felt good, too damned good not to enjoy. He wrapped his legs around Ichigo's waist and allowed himself to be fucked into oblivion. Ichigo wasn't gentle or loving, but rough and thrust into him with all the fervour of a hormonal male.

"Fuck this feels good," Ichigo whispered into Ishida's ear and let his tongue drape over the other boy's sensitive skin; he'd never felt so turned on and careless as he did at that moment. Ishida was tight, warm and his voice – his moans, the way he whined and groaned – was enough to make him want to come. In hindsight, he should have moved slower and taken the Ouincy like a gourmet taster, slowly enjoying the way he felt and tasted. Yet, this felt too good – way too good and hell, he only spurred his movements and slammed harder into the boy, making him want to pay for his earlier bitchiness. Besides, Ishida seemed to like it rough.

But he didn't think anymore and neither did Ishida when the world went black; the only thing on their minds was the realisation of how good this had been and that was enough.

"I can't believe-"

"Sheesh. We just had sex up against the wall. Big deal."

Really, did this guy have to make such a great fuss out of everything? It was quite simple, actually: the sex had been great and there wasn't anything to fret about. Ichigo didn't see how this was worth agonising hours over. He liked Ishida and from what he could tell, this wasn't entirely one-sided. So, there wasn't anything to worry about.

Ishida saw the matter quite differently: there were so many complications. He hated Shinigami, hated the insecurity of it all and most of all, had no idea how to deal with this. This was too unexpected.

"How can you say that? It is a big deal, we can't just pretend like ... nothing happened."

"You mean, you'd like to do this again?"

Ishida blushed and mumbled something inaudible. But he wasn't going to give Ichigo that satisfaction, so he replied:

"No, but we're no longer just um, friends."

"Man, calm down Is-Uryu. I'm not asking you to marry me or anything of the sort. I like you, and ... if you don't mind, I'd like to see how we can take this from here."

"But -"

"Besides, we were never really normal friends to begin with. "

Like being a Shinigami and Quincy is normal. Really.

"But Ichigo. Give me -"

"You talk too much."

And thus, Ishida's doubts were weakened and eventually banished from his mind. There wasn't much he could do when Ichigo Kurosaki was kissing him like that. After all, no one could withstand Ichigo's determination. Not even Ishida himself.

...