28 March 2007 @ 05:19 am
fanfic: oneshot  
Title: that which pulls us under
Pairing: ikkaku/yumichika
Rating: nc17/r
Disclaimer: Tito Kubo owns bleach
Warnings: language, possibly pretentious sex, and grammatical errors of the late night posting, unbeta'd kind
Concrit if you please. It's been a while.




The senkaimon doors clap in and out of existence with a thunderous sound and a black moth flaps in its wake, wavering, until the form of Yumichika Ayasegawa becomes visible in the harsh noon light. He drops his precious cargo to the ground with a sigh. The 11th Division is his home and family and Yumichika lives and breathes their code, understands that growth can only be achieved by challenge and struggle and that death, true and final, is nothing but a gift to those who embrace it wholeheartedly; yet he thinks that perhaps some go a step too far. He shoves the thought down deep, knowing the idea dangerous, a fleeting remembrance of the hard-won battle he had just returned from. It resembles fear, an emotion that Yumichika has spent years bleeding out of him.

Finding a scrap of cloth that is not damp with sweat, spit, or blood is near impossible and it takes time to wipe away the dirt from his cheeks. After a moment's consideration, he decides to check his own wounds, finally applying pressure to his leg. If enough time has passed that Yumichika deems himself presentable then it should also be enough to regain a bit of strength. He looks to his companion who had remained motionless at his feet.

Yumichika tosses his hair and says, “Stand up, Ikkaku,” then glares, pretty features enhanced in anger, when Ikkaku seemingly ignores him.

There is a twitch, finally, then another and Ikkaku’s sword arm shoots out, hand clenched around the hilt. Under Yumichika's commanding gaze, Ikkaku struggles using the sword as prop until he stands somewhere near upright. His make-shift bandages span the spectrum of red, bright, arterial to dark and while his eyes are glassy, his grin is focused, triumphant.

If Yumichika notices the crowd that had crept from the shaded streets of Rukongai behind them, the whispers, "Shinigami bastards can't even help their own," he shows no sign.

They start towards the gates of Seireitei.

"And wipe your face. No wait," Yumichika says when Ikkaku lifts a dirty arm. "I'll do it."

::

"Yumi."

"Hmm?"

"I did it."

The walls gleam under the white sun and heat radiates from around and above and below. Ikkaku follows behind Yumichika through the wide corridors and avenues. Yumichika listens to Ikkaku, the click of his scabbard, the sliding of his feet, the drip of his blood along the stones beneath their feet. His breathing is labored and short.

“I,” Ikkaku coughs. “I did it.”

"Shut up. Idiot," Yumichika sniffs because those are not the words he wants to hear. Angry at his foolish thoughts he guides them through the winding pathways, and when he can no longer bear sound alone, cuts his eyes to the side. Frowns. "We're not quite there yet."

"I did it," Ikkaku whispers again, fiercely. I'm still here is what he means but this Yumichika cannot hear.

He keeps walking although his pace slows.

::

The 4th Division's shinigami drone around them in the wing unofficially designated for the members of the 11th Division. The area is shielded against the sudden unleashing of strong reiatsu. The futons are also slightly bigger.

"I fucking did," Ikkaku says then squeezes out a strangled, "Shit lady!" as the medic's hands shear through his robes. He pushes her away, answering her stern glare with a snarl, then ignores her after a sedative patch is slapped on his hip. "Fucking did it," he continues as if the exchange never happened. "Hollow taken out with one arm behind my back."

"It was broken," Yumichika points out. He lounges against the door, waving away assistance, gaze squarely on Ikkaku's face.

He knows Ikkaku will live, the fact has been proven hundreds of times, and once again reassured, he can now acknowledge the time before, where his hands had shook and the cauterizing cream did little to seal flesh and could never mend bone. Ikkaku had spoken to him, used familiar words of luck and death while clutching his hand so tightly then turned away, away from Yumichika to face an uncertain future. And for a moment, a selfishly insightful flash, Yumichika had not cared, had not honored, only wanted for himself.

The hollow had laughed as Ikkaku staggered back, broken blade raised; the hollow had died, bone mask cracking, Ikkaku’s fierce grin, his mad light burning into its eye.

To live to fight and to die without regret that is the way of the 11th and Ikkaku exemplifies these ideas with his every word and action. He is a man with no ties and no regrets. To have seen Ikkaku walk away is to know that his words mean little, no, mean nothing to Ikkaku.

"And I walked all the fucking way back like I said I would. You owe me a drink. Make that two," he wheedles, grin returning.

"Two?" Yumichika’s lashes flutter suddenly because that is just like the idiot to raise the stakes at the end. He nods once, turns on his heel tossing, "I'll visit," over his shoulder.

He does not look back.

::

Yumichika uses everything in his power to erase the stain that moment of fear has left on his soul. It is dishonorable, disgraceful, and he's so sure others will see his shame; that it will peak through his perfection like an ugly blemish.

The next two days are spent with debriefings and paperwork, which always triples in his absence, pink ribbons and tea with Yachiru. He visits the steam baths twice a day, meditates, and goes with Matsumoto for a facial. He bustles around the offices, walks the streets offering smiles indiscriminately. They are shy or hungry, knowing or wounded, and members of both sexes are scurrying around Seireitei, either lying in wait or running.

The feeling fades but it does not leave. He is beauty, the thing which poets exult and artists strive. He feels the traitorously familiar thought loom, how could Ikkaku reject him and die for anything else? He rips the paper, throws files into the air.

Yumichika becomes irritated and so his tongue becomes a sharp, wicked thing that cuts through the juniors and the unseated he trains.

"Get the hell out of here already," Zaraki finally roars at the end of the third day when the unit's discomfort becomes so overt he can't help but notice. He's too late, Yumichika has already sprinted to the door, deciding that Ikkaku is the cause and as such, he shall be the one to fix it.

::

It is late when Yumichika arrives at the 4th division's medical complex and the desk clerk says, oh no, please leave, when Yumichika makes his visitation request, there are no visitors this hour and we just got him to shut the fu... to quiet down. Yumichika smiles, touching her hand, and apologizes by offering a drink to her health because there is more than one way to win a fight; however, he thinks a second later gently tucking the unconscious body under the desk, there is something to be said with the straight forward approach his division is known for.

He finds Ikkaku staring at the ceiling, candlelight contrasting his golden tone against the stark white bandages wrapped around his torso and arms and the ubiquitous gauze wrapped around his forehead.

"It's about time you woke up," he says, an earthen jar dangling from his fingers.

"It's about time you showed up," Ikkaku grunts, easing himself up from the pillows. "You can't stand to lose, can't stand to pay up on your bets. Thought you'd try and talk your way out of this one later. Did you bring everything?"

Yumichika's extends his hand gracefully, wrist turning in an arch. Two sake cups balance on his palm, chipped, cracked, and theirs.

"Then get the hell over here so we can start." Ikkaku licks his lips and leers. He pats his lower abdomen. "I'll let you see my new scar."

But Yumichika stands still refusing to dignify the comment. Instead, he takes time to appraise Ikkaku. His speech is slightly slurred and so his balance is probably off. Even while sitting, he favors his right side. His grin is as maddening as ever. It is the same one that lit his face aflame after Yumichika clutched at his hakama and gave into his terror, stammering things that unknowingly bring a flush to his skin and a frown to his lips now.

"Che," Ikkaku scoffs and flings the covers from the bed. Sitting upright, Ikkaku swings his legs over the side and stands. He wobbles through his first two steps, arms outstretched to balance, pauses, breathing deeply. He picks up the wooden crutch that rests against the bedside table, meets Yumichika's suddenly shocked eyes and snaps it in half, tossing the ends over his shoulder.

He walks until they meet foot to hip to chest, pushing Yumichika until his body closes the door behind him. Sweat begins to bead at his temple after the slight exertion. He brings up a hand cup Yumichika’s cheek, thumb soothing over his thin brows and the beginning of his long feather.

“Ikkaku,” he breathes. “I didn’t think. You felt so different after. I thought you weren’t going to come back. I didn’t want you to not come back.”

He sounds awkward and petulant to his own ears and that is beyond embarrassing. It is also the truth.

Ikkaku laughs.

"I'm here," he nods towards the broken crutch. “And I’m whole. You listen good because I won’t say it again. I’m shit with words, you know,” he says, hand tangling its way into fine hair. “When you’re at my side I will come back, always. And if I don’t you better fucking keep your promise and follow.”

Yumichika nods. As if he would do anything else.

“Because,” Ikkaku’s eyes are steady. “Because that thing too, alright. I mean it.”

That was the way of things. No hesitating, no questioning, Ikkaku had taken what Yumichika had hidden inside and dwelled upon for ages, had been forced to share in a moment of weakness and turned it into a new strength. His beautiful thing had become even more precious to him; something to live for. He supposes that’s better than something to die for.

“Now what’s got you so worried?”

“Like I’d worry about you,” he says and Ikkaku laughs again as if he knows Yumichika has been doing something near to it in his absence.

They are silent for a minute; Ikkaku touching him, memorizing his face like it is something new, and then says “Say it again?”

Yumichika can feel the back of his neck and ears begin to heat but he leans forward, wetting his mouth, and whispers into the air beside Ikkaku’s ear. He can feel the heat grow between them as Ikkaku surges forward at his confession, hard lines pressing through his bandages and Yumichika’s clothing.

“again,” he says, thumb moving to trace the shape of his lips as they form the words. “again. Again.”

Yumichika answers every time until the words are swallowed by Ikkaku’s mouth and the air is sucked from his lungs and still he tries, pushing them into Ikkaku’s lips, into his skin as they sink down.

::

Ikkaku bits at the white column of is neck, licks the delicate lines of his collarbone. His teeth and tongue find a nipple and tease until Yumichika begs, pretty pleading things. Ikkaku gives in for a moment, straddles across his chest and taps at his lips, sighing when he opens, dipping forward while Yumichika looks up with sly eyes.

Yumichika loves it, loves being worshiped by Ikkaku’s rough hands and uncaring tongue. He loves how Ikkaku’s voice turns rough and demanding when his broad fingers slide deep inside, pushing and stretching.

“Say it,” he rasps. “Say it, Ayasegawa,” and Yumichika moans, “I need you, Ikkaku, please,” hips arching, fucking himself on Ikkaku’s hand; his cock hard and wanting against his belly.

He shouts his throat raw when Ikkaku fills him, one long, solid thrust after the other. Ikkaku’s hand steady his hips and roam through his hair, lifts his leg so he can go deeper, give more, and fuck harder. Yumichika loves that too, how Ikkaku knows him, knows everything, can look inside find fear and conceit and turn it into beauty. How Ikkaku will never want anything more than he wants Yumichika, not even death.

"Shitty thing for a guy like you to do, coming in here like this," Ikkaku says, pulling way. He eases back to Yumichika’s side, arms and legs tangled together. Yumichika moans at the loss evan as he runs his hands over Ikkaku's shoulders, along his arms and folds their fingers together. "I'm injured you know."

::

After the candles flickered out and the shadows began to fade, Ikkaku tries the words out against the hollow of Yumichika’s throat.

"Good," Yumichika's smile is soft. "Now kiss me."

:: 2156
 
 
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Current Music: the futureheads - back to the sea
 
 
 
( 12 comments — Leave a comment )
The Raven: prone to exaggeration // yumikkacheloya on March 28th, 2007 10:16 am (UTC)
A couple of technical errors, but nothing another proofread won't fix - and not enough to detract from the piece. :) I really enjoyed it.
ruinedempires on March 28th, 2007 10:29 pm (UTC)
I swear I'll nick pick it to death soon, but I'm really glad you liked it.
Profiterole: Saiyuki - Yokai!Hakkai_profiterole_ on March 28th, 2007 03:27 pm (UTC)
Whoa! That was intense! Ikkaku/Yumichika FTW! ♥
tidal: a is for attack!ruinedempires on March 28th, 2007 10:30 pm (UTC)
That was intense!

I blame Ikkaku. Everything about him screams "go hard!" Thanks for reading!
Dela: Ikkaku & Yumichika -- Alma Albaoceanica on March 28th, 2007 09:41 pm (UTC)
*fans self* WOW that was hot. Like cheloya said, a couple minor errors, but nothing serious. And the hotness and the intensity and the way those two relate... kudos. Mega kudos. ILU ♥
tidal: a is for attack!ruinedempires on March 28th, 2007 10:45 pm (UTC)
Nono, ILU 'cause you have good taste ;) We get all these great interactions in the manga and now the anime but I still need more!
Dela: Ikkaku & Yumichika -- Heartsoceanica on March 28th, 2007 10:53 pm (UTC)
All these great anime/manga interactions that hint at soooooooo much more going on in the shadows!

Write more? Pretty please? *big googly eyes*
You hate jazz? You fear jazz.fivepennyplease on March 28th, 2007 10:47 pm (UTC)
Mmmm, I love this pairing. Well done.
ruinedempires on March 31st, 2007 03:17 am (UTC)
Thanks! They kind of took over my #1 spot on the sly.
Howls of Sorrowsakkiash on March 28th, 2007 10:53 pm (UTC)
Oh I loved it ^^ You don't see very many Ikkaku x Yumi fics around... Though I'd love to see more from you some day!
ruinedempires on March 31st, 2007 03:19 am (UTC)
You don't see very many Ikkaku x Yumi fics around

and that's so sad because they're so much fun together. i'll do my best to add on
Chloe-girl: Beautifulgrass_angel on March 31st, 2007 11:07 am (UTC)
*is goo* *revives*

After I've solidified, I would like to express how I love the way you expressed their commaraderie/partners-in-arms/love. It's something that exists in canon (I think anyway, although it's not the kind of relationship written here, but still the kind of forever in [weapons] arms way) and I think you've done rather well.
( 12 comments — Leave a comment )