A/N: ALRIGHTY! I've got a bunch of stuff to say. First of all, this story is another very peculiar, weird... thingy... that sprouted in my mind without any particular reason. Ok, so there might've been a reason, I listen to this amazing song (lyrics below, but fist hear out the song), which is called "Plane" by Jason Mraz. You might say I see a little bit of me in this fic...

...Ok, here it goes with the confessions again. I'll try to be real short. *prepares to rant* So you know, all those crazy movies about people who can't get over somebody for year and years and then some day magically TA-DA! The feeling's gone. Well, as unrealistic as it might seem, that happened to me. After drooling over a guy for 3 whole years, one night just sprung me out of my apathetic state. One night. Magic?

Back to story. This was supposed to be a one-shot and I wanted to squish the lemony scene here - cuz I can't not have a lemon - but then I thought it over and I decided it didn't fit to put it all in here, it ruins the mood. So now I'm halfway with the second chapter - a.k.a. the lemon - and let me tell you, writing smut is a lot harder than it looks. I'll try to finish it and put it up as soon as possible and if you guys keep me happy with (*cough*nice*cough*) reviews, I'll try to make it even faster.

But yeah, I think it sounds pretty completed right now as it is. I just have some sort of allergy to T-rated stories. I think I haven't read one in ages. Seriously.

And more about me - my exam results came out! *dances around* I'm talking about the language certificate thingy that will allow me to study in a college abroad. I've got an 8 on IELTS. For those who don't know, 9 is the highest grade, so YAY!

I also put up a link to my youtube profile in my fanfiction profile so yeah, you might check the amvs there if you like. Yup, there're a bunch of het stuff cuz I used to like that a lot.

OKAY! Enough of the rant. I'm just in such a great mood right now... *stares at the certificate dreamily*

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

The Colour of Air

Part 1

…I'm leaving your town again
And I'm over the ground that you've been spinning
And I'm up in the air, so baby hell yeah
Oh honey I can see your house from here
If the plane goes down, damn
I'll remember where the love was found
If the plane goes down, damn…

Something at the back of his mind told Hitsugaya that he should stop drinking (should've stopped drinking an hour ago…) even as he almost vengefully poured himself yet another glass of whiskey and mouthed a curse to the live band music that was literally making the place quake… Damn, if the ceiling came down and crushed him this very second, he wouldn't be surprised, his poor ribcage was oscillating hard, grinding against his insides strenuously as if it wanted to rip out of his body. The vibrations were creeping everywhere, colliding with the chandelier, and the bar, and the walls, downright visibly wolfing every hint of solidity and permanence… Hitsugaya groaned almost inaudibly, his fingers around the heavy glass tightening. This is bloody deranging… Or was it? Maybe that was just him, reaching the point where still objects would dance flamenco in front of his eyes and the non-static ones would be blurs of super-sonic movement, jumping from one edge of his vision to the other. Who knew. Who cared. Who the fuck gave a damn about this. He had just traveled across the planet to attend the wedding of the fucking love of his life, meet a bunch of assholes from his high school that he had tried so very hard to wipe out of his memory the past few years and fake joy somewhat poorly in front of the 'happy couple' just so he could end up in his current predicament: meticulously trying to consume his own weight in alcohol.

"At least you love me, don't you, Johnny?" he hiccuped fondly to the copper-coloured liquid as he swished it around a little in its translucent confines and let his head drop on the bar, bleary eyes never ones leaving the beverage. His cheek collided with the flat cold surface with a soft thud, the spot suddenly seeming extremely comfortable for his heavy skull, and he hummed an unrecognizable tune under his breath. Above him he could tell the barman was giving him odd looks. Fucking Americans. Fucking American women, too. Who the fuck got married at twenty-four to an American girl? Fucking Kusaka, that's who.

Toushiro could swear he had never cursed so much in his head before. He had always been such a decent boy… the dream son of every parent, the image of success in the most ambitious professor's mind, that was what he was. No drugs, no underage drinking, or boyfriends, or sex till he had graduated… Come to think of it, it was fucking incredible that he had ever even managed to not stay a virgin till this very moment, considering he hadn't stopped drooling after his best friend ever since the first time he had laid his eyes on Kusaka… But that was a whole different matter, one that he hardly wanted to recall…

Toushiro's body shook with another hiccup.

Kusaka… The only fucking guy in the entire fucking school that had even treated him right (didn't that sound incredibly desperate?) and, well, the only reason that he hadn't been beaten to a bloody pulp on a daily basis by the local face of 'cool' in the form of every popular kid in Karakura High... Being short, weird-looking and too smart for your own good was like single-handedly sticking a "Batter me." sticker on your back. Skipping two whole years of school for being ridiculously gifted and having teachers claim that you are a prodigy didn't help alleviate his classmates' hatred, either…

…Some merry years those were. Yup. Thank you, fate!

Toushiro closed his eyes for a moment, a little current of heat traveling down his back underneath the white dress shirt and the horrible, horrible blazer that he was so, so, so desperate to take off and so, so, so lazy to actually push off his shoulder… Thank God Kusaka was lost somewhere in the crowd on the dance floor, probably making out with the lucky bride, otherwise Hitsugaya would have to attach that jubilant, disturbingly wide grin on his face that always left his jaw aching like hell afterwards. Fuck it! Fuck, fuck, fuck it! Why hadn't he cursed innerly before? It was so stress-relieving.

Unable to scratch his brow, he just rubbed his head up and down the counter, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

… He should've know, he should've fucking know… The moment that idiot decided – wouldn't it be awesome, Shiro? – to finish his studying at the other end of world, Hitsugaya should've fucking guessed he himself would be sliding down the steep hill to the very same heartbreak that had been peering through the corner of his window ever since 8th grade. Now that he thought about it, he had probably had the power to talk his friend out of this stupid idea the very first time it had sprouted so very unscrupulously in Kusaka's head, yet Hitsugaya had just not done anything. Instead, the boy had gingerly showed two rows of shiny white teeth, nodding his head along everything the dark-haired youth had said… and not uttering a single word even once. God, how his jaw had hurt for hours after that talk!

He'll come back, Toushiro had hoped oh-so-gullibly, too head over heels to even dare contradict the object of his affection. Who was he to inhibit his friend from following his dreams, after all? If you really love something, you've got to be ready to open your hands and let it fly away if that's what they truly crave. Besides, maybe some time away from each other would do wonders for their… er, relationship. Maybe Kusaka would just wake up after spending three days in USA, realize that he has left the most important person in his life behind and rush back to the airport, ready to finally embrace true love…

Snort.

…Maybe not.

Propping himself on one elbow just enough not to choke, he lowered the brim of his glass to his lips and was about to take a good, long, mind-benumbing gulp, when suddenly… Johnny was no more. Blinking bemusedly at the empty space where the glass had been just a short moment ago, Hitsugaya wriggled his fingers a little to make sure there really was no glass and ultimately produced his most unimpressive frown.

"Heeey!" he whined pitifully, glancing up and around to see who had just evaporated his drink. "What the hell-"

"You don't look like you should take any more of this into your system…" a slightly teasing voice announced and a pair of long legs climbed on the stool beside the boy, a flash of orange promptly coming into view. "Are you alright?"

"'m having the time of my life. Can't you tell?" Toushiro grumbled, surprised by his own coherence as he scrambled to sit up with the sole purpose of glaring all the good intentions out of this clown. "Now, if you may be so kind, I have a date with Johnny and you have a date with-… with-" Ouch, alcohol induced speech impediment? He waved his hand around indeterminately, nearly slapping himself in the nose in the process. "Something that is very far away from here!" There. Beat that.

The orange-haired man laughed lightly, the hand that was not holding Hitsugaya's drink reaching to loosen the tie around his neck. Slinging a quick glance up and down the man before him, Toushiro allowed a tiny, slightly suspicious 'hm' to escape his lips. The guy looked more or less Kusaka's age – meaning 2 years older than the genius himself – his body saliently well-fit and lean under the formal apparel, while his face emitted a certain air of surprisingly non-irritating complacency, with its softly etched features and temperamentally twisted mouth. The man's skin seemed naturally swarthy, probably far more resilient to sunlight than Hitsugaya's deadly pale complexion, his tanned neck lightly flushed from the warmth that had obviously caused the carrot-top to strip down to a white dress shirt, the top two buttons of which were undone and the sleeved rolled to the elbows. Not bad… Suddenly even more self-conscious about how red his cheeks had probably grown, Toushiro stifled a groan and tried to straighten himself as much as the current situation would actually allow him. Before him the man let out a small chuckle, shamelessly letting his eyes swipe across the genius' body as he added:

"Are you talking about the whiskey? Gee, Toushiro, didn't know you drank this shit. You used to be so goody-goody, what the hell happened?"

"Life happened. And it's Hitsugaya." The boy paused, vague realization trying to break through to him as he tilted his head to the side and leveled the man beside him. "How the hell do you know my name?"

The carrot-top's brows formed two surprised arches, his hand dropping from the tie where his slender finger had been hooked around a moment ago.

"You don't remember me? Kurosaki Ichigo?" when Toushiro didn't show the slightest signs of recognition, the taller male added helpfully, a sheepish grin spreading on his face. "We had English together in high school?"

Pause. Think. Hard.

… Shit. No. Can't. Fuck it…

"I don't remember you." Toushiro stated dryly, not even bothering to shrug. "Were you an Ichigo back then, too?" he ignored the slightly crept out nod that the carrot-top gave him and tried to snatch his glass back from the man's hand, only causing Kurosaki to heft the beverage above his head and out of reach. "The fuck is your problem?"

"You need to sober up." Ichigo explained like it was the most natural thing in the world and Toushiro narrowed his eyes. Unbelievable. Was this guy even serious? Why couldn't he just go stuff his face in the cake – which by the way was the most awful wedding cake he had ever tasted (even if it was also the first wedding cake that he'd had…) – and just leave him alone to be morose and brooding and a myriad more synonyms that meant 'very sad'.

"What for?" Hitsugaya lamented, taking a very heroic swing towards his liquid prize and failing catastrophically as he merely managed to lose his balance and fall off the chair and right into Ichigo's embrace. A pair of large arms immediately wrapped around his grousing form with the full intention to help him up, but the boy just slumped down further, causing the body underneath him to visibly tense, a shaky breath escaping the carrot-top's lips. What? Blowing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes, Hitsugaya clumsily brought his hands forward with the valiant purpose of pushing himself up, but instead froze, perking up instantly as he felt a pair of very muscular thighs under his palms. Oh my… Oh my God… Realizing belatedly that he had downright landed his head in this Ichigo's lap, he cursed Fate once more, mumbled a half-muffled apology and with the colossal combination of both of their efforts found himself sitting in the stool once again. Well, success!

"So what for?" Toushiro inquired again, avoiding the man's gaze and hoping sincerely that the carrot-top would blame the slight dust of bright pink across the boy's features on the alcohol and the warmth. Beside him he felt Ichigo place the half-finished drink on the counter and rub the back of his neck nervously.

"So I can invite you for a dance?" came the hesitant reply. Hitsugaya blinked slowly, unfazed.

"Ha. Ha."

"I'm serious…" Kurosaki drawled dejectedly, earning quite a crude snort from the smaller male as Toushiro chose this very moment to try and shrug his blazer off his shoulders. Fine, so it was fucking hot in there and if he was planning to manage till the end of the night, he'd better shed some layers of clothing. Now.

"Well, I don't do dancing." Hitsugaya spat, loving being difficult just as much as he hated his attire right now. This thing. Wouldn't. Come. Off!

"But it's a party- Wedding." Ichigo amended deftly, his eyes following the boy's incredibly sluggish and butter-fingered movements with a flicker of amusement and maybe just a little bit of pity. It appeared that the genius was stuck around the elbows, incapable of shaking the blazer off and was currently growing more and more irritated with his inability to free himself from the confines of the expensive fabrics. "C'mon. I promise to be a gentleman."

"In case you haven't noticed," Toushiro jolted his arms up and down a few more times before giving up with a weary sigh and just turning to face a cautiously beaming Ichigo, still pathetically trapped by the curse of the evil blazer. "I am also male. I understand how my stature might lead to certain misunderstandings, but I am, in fact, a boy."

Ichigo chuckled genuinely, shaking his head a little at the prodigy's little tirade as he propped his elbow on the counter and rested his head in his palm.

"Still just as funny, I see." Pausing just enough to have Toushiro glare at him heatedly, the carrot-top let his smile stretch into another full-blown grin and added conspiratorially. "One dance. And I'll help you out of that blazer."

Closing his eyes and tilting his head back to stare dismally at the ceiling, Hitsugaya mouthed a couple of profanities before giving in.

The blazer wasn't the only thing that Toushiro seemed to need help with. Hopping off the dangerously tall stool also proved to be quite troublesome and were it not for the help that Ichigo provided, landing face down on the floor would've been inevitable.

Once on the ground and out of the excessive clothing, Hitsugaya mumbled a small 'wait' and gingerly busied himself with his tie for three long minutes before finally sliding it off his throat. By that time, he had already grown beyond frustrated and when he tried to undo the first button of the dress shirt, successfully managed to rip three off at one go instead.

"That was on purpose." Toushiro stated as he followed one of the buttons' track with a baneful gaze before looking up at the taller male and scowling absently. "I fully intended to destroy a two-hundred dollars dress shirt, I promise you."

Snickering gently, Ichigo offered his hand to his reluctant partner and proceeded to lead him to the dance floor with as much dignity as the genius' constant grumbling would permit. Toushiro allowed himself to be guided between the gradually saturating masses of people, jade orbs whipping around the faces every once in awhile just to make sure that Kusaka wasn't anywhere nearby. He didn't feel like facing him and his sweetheart just yet, especially since he had just been literally (well, not really) blackmailed into dancing. As his brain finally managed to process some information from the surroundings, the boy was stricken by the shocking thought that - would you look at this? – someone had shooed away the obnoxious orchestra in favor of a party DJ. A party DJ who was obviously determined to pulverize Toushiro's ribcage with the sole power of techno music, seeing as the farther he was tugged into the group of dancers, the louder the beat seemed to grow. On the bright side, the lights had been dulled out to a comfortable semi-darkness, allowing him to recognize people only withing a radius of two meters and leaving the rest of the world to be defined only by the sheer power of their writhing outlines. Scowling slightly, Hitsugaya squeezed the hand holding his a little, his eyes directing upwards to the ceiling, almost as if he was trying to make out the physical form of the tension that had accumulated over their heads. The air there, not too far above them, weighted down with the avid breaths of a hundred people, making the place pulse with scorching heat and movement.

Whether because of the lack of oxygen or the blast of uncomfortable warmth that had sucked him in, Toushiro felt his head begin to swim a little and before he knew it, he had tripped over his own feet, landing safely in a pair of awaiting arms. The embrace was warm but not in the sickening, suffocating kind of way that the boy expected, the strong musky scent that was so undeniably male enshrouding him from head to toe till he was even more light-headed than before. Beside his ear, Ichigo chuckled gently, helping his partner straighten up, but not really letting go once that was achieved.

"It's no use." Hitsugaya groaned, dropping his head against the broad chest before him without giving it much of a thought. "I'm sooo drunk."

Before him Ichigo laughed gently again, hands circling the boy's wrists tenderly as he pulled Toushiro's arms up and around his own tanned neck.

"Dancing will help you sober up."

"Or throw up. I'll throw up on you, you're the closest person to throw up on…" he sounded pathetic even in his ears as he nearly sniffled. "I always throw up on somebody, I don't know why. I have crappy luck…"

Ichigo hummed amusedly and let his palms travel down his partner's forearms, then the thin, slightly tense shoulders and finally around the protruding shape of the spine all the way to slim hips.

"I'll take my chances." The carrot-top announced softly, brows arching a little as he pulled back some to look at Toushiro's suddenly quite disheartened face. "Why so down, huh? You're supposed to be happy on a wedding."

Smiling tiredly, the genius shook his head, eyes closing for a moment as he allowed the taller male to lead him in a slow circle that had very little to do with the actual (quite fast) song that was playing at the background.

"I'm like an old lady. Weddings make me sad." He quipped rather wearily, jade orbs fixing on some spot above Ichigo's shoulder as he sighed deeply. "I'm an awful company. Better find yourself someone else and just forget about this. Me and Johnny will be fine. So very fine…"

Scowling slightly at the crestfallen tone, the carrot-top allowed one arm to wrap tighter around the boy's waist, the other one raising to prop a knuckle under Hitsugaya's chin and coax the boy to look up.

"I don't like that self-pity in your voice." Ichigo stated, soft brown eyes burrowing deeply in the pair of teal pools below as he smiled warmly at his little partner. "You've always been an extremely interesting guy to be around, with that sense of humour and all. Such a pity you always kept to yourself in high school… Well," he paused, mouth twisting a bit in a mix of tease and something that Toushiro couldn't quite define. "With the example of our beloved Kusaka, of course."

Hitsugaya couldn't help it but smirk a little at that comment, a tiny chuckle rippling inside his chest as he shrugged nonchalantly. Come to think of it, it was almost amusing how ridiculously obvious he had always been about his attraction towards his best (and only) friend throughout their high school years. Looking back at his own behavior now, he had to admit that some of his reactions to certain gestures or offhanded remarks from Kusaka's side had been more than just inane and naïve. It was some wicked fluke that till this very moment Sojiro was still blissfully unaware of Toushiro's feelings towards him. Lucky… lucky him, lucky me… Lifting his slightly misty, half-lidded eyes to the pair of warm brown ones above him, the boy felt a peculiar pinch of surprise tickle at his insides at the same time a new, soothing kind of air of tranquility wrapped around both of them. The tight, throbbing knot in the centre of his chest loosened and for a moment Hitsugaya really did sense that there was something beyond just 'familiar' about the carrot-top. If not in the face that his currently blurry mind insisted on rejecting so stubbornly, it was in the relaxed serenity of Ichigo's voice, the easy smile that emerged ever so often on his face as he gazed down at his shorter partner, and those arms… How could an embrace feel so, so familiar?

"Thanks I guess…" Hitsugaya mumbled, the muscles in his back considerably relaxing as the thought that this might as well not be such a debacle after all popped into his mind. "You sure you weren't one of those guys that wanted to run me through a meat-mill?"

The hold around his hips tightened a little as he was pulled deeper into the embrace.

"Pretty positive, yeah." Ichigo sounded genuine and Toushiro found himself believing every word that came out of the man's mouth without giving it a second thought.

"So you're close to Kusaka?"

"More or less. We went to the same school but we got pretty tight right before he took off to study here. We've hung out when he came back home."

"Well, how come I don't remember you then?"

Ichigo's eyes flashed for a moment but Toushiro didn't seem to notice, now too caught up into humming along the song that was currently playing.

"Apart from the fact that Kusaka usually doesn't like to share you much? I think you just don't want to."

"What? Remember you?" when Ichigo nodded, the boy let out a small incredulous laughter and shook his head. "Fine. Tell me at least one time we've spoken or something and I'll see if I can make anything in my head budge."

A few minutes drowned into silence, Toushiro's movements now slightly more certain as he continued humming the tune, lips curled into a tiny blissful smile. He didn't feel the light tensing of the hold around his body, neither did he notice the strange, earnest, even solemn expression that fell across his partner's face as Ichigo let the suggestion sink it. Comfortable in his own little world (that was currently consisted only of himself, the song and the peculiar sort of peace that these arms around him brought to him), easing the ache in his chest and pushing away the thoughts about Kusaka, Hitsugaya reached to pull his sleeves up to his elbows behind the taller man's neck. He could feel the carrot-top duck his head, nuzzling his neck and for some reason, whether because of the high number of alcohol molecules in his blood or something else entirely, he failed to feel uncomfortable.

"Do you remember the party that Kusaka threw before taking off for the first time to come in USA?" the question was muffled and somewhat strained and for a moment Toushiro didn't really process its meaning. His thoughts backpedalled rather sluggishly to the occasion mentioned, the blurry images emerging from the depths where they had spent the last four years and beginning to shape up into something reasonable… A spectacle of quivering figures, distorted music, conversations, words, words, words…

…Then a string inside him snapped, ripping away with an abhorrent shriek and he froze, sickening pallor splashing across his face like a bucket of cold water. Before he knew it, he had torn himself away from Ichigo's grip, eyes wide as he stumbled back, away from the warmth.

"That- that was you?" Hitasugaya barely managed to utter the words, his voice getting lost in the beat but he knew by the expression of guilt and panic that twisted Kurosaki's features so, so painfully that the man had understood him. In a split second, the memory of that night pierced through the blissfully opaque veil of the alcohol, shredding the thin abstract substance to pieces, specks, dust. His temples were suddenly throbbing with ache, with tension and something that distantly resembled disgust. No, no, no… Funny, how incredibly similar the situation had been to the one right now… A party, a reason to be miserable, a motive to get drunk, forget, seek distraction… Much like back then, Ichigo had sat next to him on the bar, tearing the glass of martini out of his grip and scolding him for having too much to drink. Then, then…

Toushiro's head swam and he pressed the heel of his hand to his brows, gasping for breath. Ichigo reached to touch him, but the boy flinched away, already feeling the humiliation and hurt seep in foaming drifts that were threatening to take him under for good. How could he fucking forget? How could he? It should've been impossible… It was supposed to stay in his head forever, this ridiculous foolish thing he had done… Nobody forgot their first... You just didn't do it. You didn't forget your first kiss, your first crush, the day you took your driving license… And you most definitely didn't forget the guy who nailed you on the night when, out of mind benumbing misery, you had drunk enough to possibly even walk stark naked down the street and not notice… Oh, God… No wonder his brain had tried to block the already quite vague image away… This hadn't been meant to happen, it had been such an idiotic, shitty mistake…

In an instant the quivering chunks of that night had crowded his mind and he felt as though he might be sick. Lifting his eyes just enough to glare at the man before him, Toushiro shook his head and took another step back.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" he hissed before turning around and starting to make his way out of the crowd. He could hear Ichigo calling his name and it made him all the more determined to get away, his wobbly legs somehow managing to support him till he was off the dance floor and making his way across the large hall. He briefly remembered that his blazer was still draped over the stool behind the bar but didn't bother going back, too angry, too unwilling to stay a moment longer in this place. If he didn't get out soon, he was going to suffocate, drown, break down from all the things that had managed to pile on his shoulders for this fucking awful day! It wasn't helping that he was still drunk, the alcohol in his system making him even more inclined to outburst of all kinds and simultaneously turning his feet into two columns of melting glue. The floor seemed to be tilting back and forth underneath him as he hurried down the dark red carpet, the path squirmed like a poisonous snake, trying to viciously throw him off its back. Half-running, half-stumbling Hitsugaya downright miraculously succeeded to get to the front door and push it open, finding himself in the hotel's lobby. His hand sneaked to his back pocket, checking if the key to his room was still there and a tiny sigh of relief rolled off his tongue. It was there.

Hitsugaya made a sharp turn to the elevators, his mind urging him to run but his legs simply fell behind the appointed schedule, unable to move fast in their current state. Pathetic. He smashed the button with unneeded force, the pain that shot through his palm feeling like a syringe of adrenaline, bringing a sort of twisted pleasure to his clouded mind as he almost slumped against the wall and prayed to the stupid machine to arrive faster. He needed out of here, dammit, now, now, now!

"Toushiro!"

Fuck! The sound of the steps coming closer caused a surge of cold anger to run down his spine and he bit down on his lip, eyes screwing shut as he banged his fist against the closed doors of the elevator. Come on! As if on cue, a soft cling was heard and the two pieces of metal slowly started to separate, allowing the boy to literally fall into the cubicle. Without wasting another second, Hitsugaya slogged the button with the bright number 8 shining above it and gave himself the chance to feel hopeful for one full second as he saw the door begin to close. The hope burst to pieces the moment Ichigo manage to throw himself into the elevator and the only way out closed securely behind his back with another hypocritically merry peal.

"God, I told you to leave me alone!" Toushiro gritted out, jerking back as he felt a set of long fingers wrap around his arm. The movement was useless as it only trapped him further against the back metal wall of the elevator, the hand still holding him firmly as Ichigo took a second to catch his breath.

"Please-… Please, just listen to me!"

"And why would I do that, you fucking asshole?" Hitsugaya yelled, the blood pumping madly into his veins as he glowered up at the man before him. "I was drunk, miserable and you took advantage of me! I didn't want it!"

"That's not what you told me back then." Ichigo tried pitifully but the genius just shook his head frantically, already seething, his whole tiny frame shaking with anger. He was beyond himself now, he couldn't take this…

"It doesn't matter what managed to slur its way out of my mouth! I wasn't thinking right and you knew it, you shouldn't have done that to me! You shouldn't have tried to do it again tonight!"

"I-I didn't, I just-… I wanted to talk and then you didn't remember and I thought maybe…"

"Maybe it was okay?" Hitsugaya supplied bitterly, Ichigo's features pulling with mortification at that supposition. "That maybe three or what? Four years later it's perfectly okay to just work out your charms on me, like-… It must've been real good then, I'm guessing?" his voice was breaking now, cracking like old parchment as he felt a familiar sting grate at his eyes. "Banging the local 18-year-old virgin, the smartass who everybody hated and who-"

"No! It wasn't like that, I-…Please, hear me out!" Ichigo's other hand found its way to the boy's trembling shoulder but Hitsugaya just shook his head. Hating himself for the weakness. "God, Toushiro, it was… that night meant something for me!"

The elevator stopped, the doors beginning to slide open and Toushiro wrenched himself out of the other one's grip abruptly, making a beeline for the hallway. He reached the number of his room within half a minute and slid the key inside shakily. For one long blissful moment until the thing actually did budge open, he dared think that maybe he had been left in peace. Wrong.

"Will you just stop for a moment?" the familiar hand grasped his wrist once more, spinning him around and pushing him inside the room gently. The look on Ichigo's face was beyond desperate, torn between the need to scream in desperation and whisper fervently till his throat went raw. "I'm trying to tell you-… I've been trying to tell you- Shit, Toushiro, I-…"

"Let go of me!" Hitsugaya hissed icily, making an attempt to yank himself free from the solid grasp and shoving the carrot-top away at the same time, the poor try resulting in the taller male grasping both his wrists and holding them between their bodies securely.

"I'm sorry!" Ichigo yelled, his voice shattering at the end and making the other one pause in his struggles. The carrot-top fell silent for a moment, eyes screwing shut as he tried to collect himself before adding softly, cautiously, yet twice as vehemently as before. "I'm so, so sorry that I hurt you… I was selfish and stupid… But I've liked you so much ever since I was fifteen and- and you were there, and you were willing and I just- " he gasped breathlessly, the grip around the boy's wrists loosening significantly as he bowed his head and whispered. "I thought that maybe if I couldn't tell you… If I couldn't tell you how I felt then maybe I could show you. That- That maybe if I made it really good you would-… See something in me worth giving a chance…" Releasing the boy's right hand, he reached forward to wipe a stray tear away from Hitsugaya's cheekbone with his thumb. "And then I woke up the next morning and you were gone. I never felt so low in my entire life. I'm so, so, so sorry, Toushiro. Please… forgive me."

Once freed, the boy's hands fell limply by his sides, jade eyes glassed over with unshed tears as he swallowed thickly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he choked out breathlessly, shoulders lifting in a confused shrug. "Why didn't you say anything before that?"

Ichigo's mouth twisted painfully, a small humourless chuckle escaping his lips as he let his gaze dive into Hitsugaya's easily, openly.

"C'mon… At school you were all over your best friend… even if the idiot never noticed. You were all over him afterwards. All over him now? What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know." The boy whispered. "What are you going to do now?"

Letting his fingertips linger in the soft white locks around the genius's temple, the carrot-top exhaled shakily through his nose and shook his head. His eyes were following his own hand, his own digits, yet Toushiro could feel with every fiber of his body that the taller male's whole attention was focused on Hitsugaya.

"I'm going to say goodnight." Ichigo uttered carefully, a tiny smile grazing his lips as let his digits brush the outlines of the shorter male's jaw for a moment longer before withdrawing completely. "I still want to be something more than your friend… However long it might take to win you over… Seeing you tonight just proved to me that I need a chance for this, to fix what I did... Prove to you that there's more to me that the man you were with that night. " he let his brown eyes shift back and forth between Toushiro's jade ones for a few seconds, and then slowly, almost torturously so, he leaned forward, pressing his lips just under the genius' cheekbone.

A trice later he was gone, leaving a still completely bewildered Hitsugaya behind him.

Hitsugaya looked away from the window only when the earth finally disappeared completely from his eyes, the houses, the trees, the people, the yards all stepping back to make place to a perpetual ocean of downy clouds and goldish-red sunrays. The past two days were a bit of a palpitating dream, an universe that he was finally tearing himself away from: whether for the worse or for the better. He felt a little like a child that had stayed in the darkness for too long and now, when stepping outside in the light, his eyes burned and ached and he desperately wanted to crawl back into his warm, if obscure, covert. Reality was more clear that he remembered it to be, more vivid – hell, it even smelled different - it was foreign to him in the most incomprehensible fashion possible…

He allowed a tiny smile to form on his lips as he sighed deeply. Suddenly, the world was flavoured with all the possibilities, all the paths and twists that he'd been ignoring all this time. Now that he looked back, he had wasted so, so much… He had been wading through the days like a blind man, trying to cross a swamp without really knowing what he was doing... Oblivious to the surroundings, the past, the future, the target… Who could've known? Who could've guessed that he had been getting high, drugged to the point of sheer, if slightly anguishing, euphoria on a single illusion for such a long period of time that he had ceased seeing it as a fantasy? Truth was, and the knowledge of that perhaps oppressed him more than anything else, that he been slumbering all these years, chasing fog, clutching steam with bare hands…

So much gone. So much frittered away…

Several hours from now he would be back home, away from Kusaka, away from all this for good.

Toushiro couldn't wait.

"You okay?" a soft voice inquired and the genius turned to look at the man sitting beside him. "I know it must be upsetting…"

"No." Hitsugaya countered, slumping back in his seat as he cast Ichigo a sideward glance. "I'm kindda happy, actually."

"Happy?"

"Yeah. I needed a wake up call." Hitsugaya reached to run a hand through his spikes, the fingers of his free hand thrumming gently on the window frame beside him. "I think in the end I loved him more out of habit than anything else."

Propping his elbow on the hand-rest beside him and resting his head in his palm, Toushiro sighed deeply, eyelids dropping to cover his bright jade orbs. The soft, nearly imperceptible tune of "See the World" escaped between his closed lips, the sound making Ichigo's brows bounce up with slight surprise.

"You know…" he drawled, watching the smaller one's face closely. "I meant what I said that time in your room." he bit his lower lip, observing the tiny smile that blossomed on Hitsugaya's lips. "I do want to try this… us. And make things right."

Toushiro cracked open an eye and peered at the carrot-top half-slyly.

"I know." He said gently. "I hoped so."

Ichigo chuckled lightly, then reached over, taking the genius' hand into his own. Toushiro didn't pull away.

A/N: I told you it was an odd thingy. If you're wondering about the title, I might make a series of 1-2shots with separate plotlines. You know, so very cleverly using the elements... But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I've still got a story to finish. *sweatdrop* *gets to work*