Bleach 1. Captain MakeItWorse Strikes Again!

Author's note:

'Alo, 'alo! I am seldelaterre and this is my very FIRST fanfiction ever. Not first to be posted, not first to be about Bleach, but first EVER! I've written a lot before, but always with my own characters. This is the first time I'm using somebody else's and while I'm obviously taking some liberties- I really hope that I can manage to stay true to the original framework at LEAST some degree!

So I'd really appreciate any feedback you guys have- just click the little review button and flame/critique away!

-**saltoftheearth**-

Pairings: Eventual Ichigo 3Uryu, but it's just the first chapter, sillies!

Disclaimer: No owny bleachy. There would be more internal monologue (read: man love) if I did.

**So Let's Put Wallpaper Up Between Our Ears**

**Chapter One: "Captain Make-it-Worse Strikes Again!"**

Ichigo was proud of himself for having blundered through the summer with nothing fantastically groundbreaking occurring. A Hollow here, a Bount there- nothing he couldn't handle. Sure, he'd never quite gotten used to waking up in the middle of the night and realizing that a tall, kinda spooky redhead (one Mr. Abarai) was sitting on his chest or rummaging through his stuff due to the Shinigami's seemingly incurable insomnia (why couldn't he just STAY in Urahara's shop!). He _definitely_ hadn't gotten used to Renji's violent idea of what a kiss should be or Renji's constant pressure to "go further"…but in general it had been a good summer.

He was secretly glad when trouble in Soul Society called his pseudo-boyfriend away and forced them apart.

Summer had gotten to be so uneventful toward the end that he managed to shove in a little bit of preemptive studying- he felt totally prepared for the upcoming year in school.

What he wasn't prepared for was a glaringly good looking new boy sitting in Ishida Uryuu's seat. Not that Ichigo particularly cared, but he didn't want the melancholy Quincy emoing around trying to find a new seat and potentially landing next to Ichigo. There was a good ten minutes left before the teacher would get there, so he had some time to complete his good deed-of-the-month and set the new kid straight. He approached the dark-haired boy whose nose was practically pressed to the desk as he sketched feverishly. Ah. Un artiste.

"Hey, you," Ichigo began, "I know you're new and everything- but a _friend_ of mine sits in this seat." It was a long shot to call Ishida a "friend," but the new boy didn't need to know that.

"There's a seating chart up by the door- might wanna take a look and see, y'know, where you really belong."

The boy looked up and met Ichigo's eyes- the redhead was taken aback by how familiar the dark blue _(unusual eye color in these parts, don't you think…?)_ gaze was. Perhaps, though, he was simply surprised at the boy's serene loveliness. He had glossy black hair (almost feathery in its burnished sheen), and porcelain-pale skin. His nose was thin and aquiline, the lips were chapped yet perfectly formed and currently twisted into a pompous purse. His eyebrows were sparse and thin, and his cheekbones were aristocratically high. He was hardly even handsome- the only word would be beautiful. It was a little bit scary. Even more unsettling was the fact that the boy appeared to be disproportionately angry at Ichigo's comment. The new kid scratched at the bridge of his nose- as if he were used to wearing glasses- and said in an uncomfortably recognizable, uppity tone:

"Kurosaki, I'd like to take the moment to inform you that you are not, will not, and will never be a particularly amusing young man."

"That wasn't a joke." Ichigo was coming to a prickly realization in the back of his mind.

"Hence why I'm NOT laughing." Uryuu Ishida gave Ichigo one more perturbed glare and turned back to his sketches.

The truth finally struck Ichigo- THIS was Ishida! But-but he looked different! The Shinigami substitute's mind kicked into high gear:

_It had to have been during the summer break. He obviously hasn't gotten any sun- so a healthy tan doesn't explain it. Sure, he's maybe grown an inch, but then again, I've grown one and a half. Weight loss seems preposterous; plastic surgery would have left scars…._

_Ishida Uryuu looks good. Not even in the "oh hey he's wearing a nice shirt today" kind of way, and not the "oh look he's actually smiling and has nice teeth" sort either. No. _

_He looks damn good. I'm kinda jealous._

"Ishida? I didn't even recognize you without your glasses." Ichigo said, trying to build up a decent save to excuse his former assclownery, all the while maintaining that "enemy" vibe that both of them craved. "You never really seemed like the contact type. Trying to lose the nerd image, Quincy?"

Ishida was visibly perturbed that Ichigo would use the name of his Order so casually but decided not to react upon it. The redhead was becoming steadily more embarrassed, and he was secretly very glad that there weren't many students in the class. Yet.

"I really don't want to deal with you and your machismo attitude this year, Kurosaki." Ishida sighed. "I'm taking the regional tests at the end of this semester and I can't be bothered with your shinigami bullshit."

Ichigo was once again discomfited- he was supposed to take the regional tests as well and as of late, he'd been wondering how he was going to study when Hollows kept popping up like champagne corks. He leaned in closer over Ishida's desk and spoke softer as he heard the rest of the class coming down the hallway.

"Look, I didn't mean to be a jerk. I honestly didn't recognize you and-" he jerked away from Ishida's desk when he heard Keigo's voice through the door and raised his eyebrows apologetically at his pale archenemy. Ishida waved him away with a lazy flick of his wrist and rubbed at his nose again.

"For the record, I get my new glasses at the end of the week. I broke my old pair yesterday at….archery practice" he said pointedly. Ichigo caught the reference. That had to have been a tough fight.

"**Ichigo**!" The scowling redhead braced himself for Keigo's ineludible attack.

**-ze later-**

_"What happened to Ishida?"_

_"Who's Ishida?"_

_"He looks like he got hit with the pretty stick."_

_"Do you think it was the glasses?"_

_"It can't have been just glasses. Boy looks FINE."_

_"I don't believe that's Ishida."_

_"For the last time, who the HELL is Ishida?"_

By lunchtime, the schoolyard was buzzing. Ichigo was already sick to death of watching and hearing the girls gape, the underclassmen giggle, and the straight guys grumble about the so-called miracle of Uryuu. It was unfortunate; Ishida wasn't even noticing the attention he was getting. He puttered around in those cheap-ass hospital shoes, took notes in the same impossibly neat handwriting, customarily went to the bathroom at exactly eleven twenty-three, ignored his peers, and ate lunch alone (despite an increased number of invitations to sit with people).

Not that Ichigo was keeping track of his entire freakin' day or anything. Course not.

Keigo seemed the least pleased out of all the boys in the class and he had very few qualms about expressing his dislike to Ichigo during lunch.

"What's so special about that scarf-knitting pansy? Half the school has gone apeshit because he grew his greasy hair out a few inches and ditched the specs! Look at all those lovely, ripe young ladies," he gestured overdramatically to Orihime and her circle of well-endowed friends as they congregated under a tree with their lunch trays, "staring at him and his stupid no-button shirt. What a queer!"

Ichigo had mostly been tuning Keigo out until that last sentence ; he jumped right back into the conversation with unnecessary vigor.

"Do you really think so?"

"Of course I do! No girl should want to date a guy who weighs less than her!"

"No- do you really think that Ishida's…..batting for the other team?

Keigo gave Ichigo the (incredibly ironic) "you-are-a-complete-and-total-idiot" look.

"When was the last time you met a straight guy who seriously enjoyed knitting?"

Ichigo peered over to another table, where Chad was energetically clacking his knitting needles together in an effort to make a scarf long enough to actually go around his neck. He cleverly decided not to mention the discrepancy to Keigo.

"And what's more," Keigo continued triumphantly (he got louder as he immersed himself further into his argument), "he always wears those fruity shirts with hooks instead of buttons! That's kink if I've ever seen it! MAN kink!"

A few other kids started laughing and sat down at Ichigo's table. Orihime looked up from where she was and frowned. Ichigo was becoming uncomfortable with the situation- if only Keigo knew why he'd been turning down most of the brunette's invitations to come over that past summer. You don't exactly phone up your homophobic "best" friend and tell him you don't want to play Wii Bowling because you're trying to learn how to give a decent blowjob to your increasingly needy, 300-year-old boyfriend.

"He's never had a girlfriend, he never takes that gay-looking bracelet off, and one time I'll swear I saw him walking downtown wearing a CAPE! He's a queer through and through and I don't see why everyone's getting so worked up about him!"

It only took a few more moments for Ishida to "finish" his lunch and leave the schoolyard. His face was the very image of indifferent calm. He did, however, forget to pick up his knitting; it was now little more than a crumpled ball of yarn on the table he'd been sitting at.

Ichigo thought that Keigo was being unfair by spreading unbacked rumors, and the people around their table were already starting to whisper and giggle to themselves.

"Keigo, don't you think that you-" he was going to interject and perhaps defend the Quincy (after all, the cape and bracelet were just parts of the uniform!) when he saw out of the corner of his eye a flash of white and black.

Hollow!

Ichigo excused himself and ran off towards the bathroom with the idea to store his body in a stall when he ran into a hassled-looking Ishida.

"You see it too?" he asked breathlessly. They were in a very secluded hallway.

"I sensed it five minutes ago. I'm going to handle it, why don't you go back to your friends and find somebody else to rip apart?"

Ichigo frowned, he wanted to talk to Ishida- perhaps inform him that he didn't agree with Keigo's habit of jumping to unfair conclusions, but he didn't want to appear soft or sympathetic. It wasn't in his image. Just like volleying between genders wasn't in his image?

"Baka. The Hollow's right outside the schoolyard and if you whip out a bow on school grounds everybody will see."

"What do you suggest then, Kurosaki? I'm supposed to let you handle it? You've don't looke like you've trained at all over the summer!"

Ichigo pushed past Ishida and again headed down towards the bathroom.

"Just let me handle it, Quincy. Hold this."- He popped a soul candy into his mouth and watched his body go limp. He pushed it over towards Uryu and it landed propped up against Ishida's body

"What am I supposed to do with your body, _Strawberry_?"

"I don't care. Just don't try anything with it, fag." Ichigo said nastily, but he immediately regretted it. A joke that wasn't even funny had already gone too far. "Fag"- it was a practically inexcusable term and the hurt showed on every inch of Ishida's face, if only for a split second. His features almost immediately hardened into a stone-cold glare.

"Just go."

_Shit._ Ichigo opened his mouth to explain (not apologize) but Ishida cut him off with a harsh gesture. He shifted the weight of Ichigo's body onto his shoulder.

"Go! The Hollow's still out there."

_Double shit!_ Ichigo took Uryuu's advice and sprinted out of the building. As he parried the blows from the crab-hollow's sharp pincers he reflected back on his behavior in the hallway.

_He seemed to be genuinely hurt- maybe he really is...? I really wish I could take what I said back- OUCH!_ The Hollow clipped his ankle and Ichigo angrily finished it off with a well-placed slash from zangetsu. As he shuffled back to the school building the confused teen couldn't seem to get Ishida out of his mind. He had moved on past the name-calling incident and was instead pondering the possibility of a gay Ishida.

_Even if he is... he'd still be a great fighter. When we're comrades- he's a good guy to have on my side. He's smart, he's strong, he's…completely hating me right now._

When Ichigo got back to school, he found his body in a utility closet with his hand down his pants and the Quincy cross shaved into both of his sideburns.

"BASTARD!"


	2. What's With the Third Degree?

-Author's Note-

Hey, it's Sel here. I totally and wholeheartedly apologize for the awful, disgustingly long break between the first and second chapter. The good news is that by now I've pretty much hammered out the whole storyline (it was kind of a jumbled mess earlier) so everything from here should flow relatively easily.

I solemnly swear that this is the longest you'll ever have to wait for a chapter in this fic!

Thank you to everyone that reviewed! I felt so loved! Please feel free to keep me in check if I get too OOC or if you have any critique! As I said before, this is my first fic so any help you pros can give is greatly appreciated

**-saltoftheearth-**

**So Let's Put Wallpaper Up Between Our Ears**

**Chapter Two: "What's With the Third Degree?"**

"_Lie detector's on the blink  
__So comfort me with doublethink  
__And let's put wallpaper up between our ears"  
_-"Motorology" by Ozma.

Only four weeks remained until the regional exams and Ichigo was about to crack. He had the exam study booklets to go through, massive amounts of homework, extra shifts at the clinic, an increasing number of Hollows to fight and the minor (read: unbearable) annoyance of pretending that he was even a tiny bit interested in women. Keigo insisted on dragging Ichigo to the mall to "girl-watch" and begged for his opinion on all life forms that appeared to be even remotely feminine. On excursions such as these, Ichigo counted the minutes until he could go home.

Of course, that's not to say that his home life was any better. His fool of a father still insisted that the only common language in the house should be violence and Ichigo often had to duck, block and swerve away from Isshin's bone-crunching excuses for hugs.

"_Aha! I have trained you well, my son!"_

On a nondescript Monday, just a few weeks after school had started, Ichigo woke up and deduced that it was safe to go to school without having to don a beanie. Yes, his gingery sideburns had finally recovered from the Quincyfication of weeks past! "_Today_," Ichigo later remembered promising to himself, "_is NOT going to suck_." Or so he'd hoped.

School had not been too much fun lately. It wasn't an academic problem. His grades were fine even with the constant hollow-flavored distractions that had been swarming all over the town as of late. No, his main issue with high school at the moment was collectively tall, pale, handsome, dark-haired, and pompous. Ishida hadn't spoken much to Ichigo (or to anybody, really) since the beginning of the school year and instead of hindering his social status, Ishida's forced silence only propelled him further into the upper echelons of the high school hierarchy. Ishida Uryu was an _enigma._ Enigmas were cool. Enigmas were sexy. And what's more- it had become a widely accepted fact that Ishida was gay. Everybody knew, everybody was talking about it, and Ichigo still didn't know what to think.

A large part of Ichigo didn't look at the strong, smart Quincy any differently, but a very miniscule portion of his mind harped on about Ishida's homosexuality on an almost hourly basis. One thing, however, was particularly certain: Ichigo was NOT about to let other people know about about the tested-and-true fact that he too was gay. It was one thing for the president of the handicrafts club be a fairy- but Ichigo knew that nobody, not even Chad, could know about Renji or his sexuality. Such was the constant thorn in Ichigo's side.

Ichigo had slipped out of the house early to avoid any further confrontation with his dad and took the long way to school that morning. He was tired- after fighting two hollows last night and studying for a test he had today, the hot-tempered teenager felt less than enthusiastic about going to school that day. More than anything, he wanted to sleep and regain his strength. Unfortunately, his human duties called him away.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

The streets were empty- a few stores were opening up their doors to the earliest of commuters but besides that there was little activity in Karakura Town. The redhead's long legs took him though the shopping district all the way past Urahara Shouten, and it was at the gate of the lecherous Hat n' Clogs' store that he stopped. A buzz at the badge he kept attached to his belt confirmed the rising sense of unease that had permeated Ichigo's brain- there was a Hollow somewhere near. How very repetitive.  
Ichigo had the good sense to slip into Urahara's courtyard and discreetly ditch his body behind a dumpster before summarily seeking the Hollow out. Two blocks down and Ichigo saw it; the towering menace was poking a skeletal finger through someone's bedroom window.

"Hey ugly, over here!" he called out, hoping to lure it away from the house. The (evidently dumb) Hollow took the bait and charged angrily towards the lean shinigami substitute. Ichigo summoned the last of his strength and feigned readiness. He drew Zangetsu and stood in his starting position, too tired to be entirely ready to spring into action at any given mome-

"And who, exactly, are you calling ugly, Kurosaki?"

A very familiar voice with an unbearably dramatic tone sounded from behind the Hollow. The black and white beast stopped in its tracks and turned around to see where that voice was coming from; moments later a musical _twang_ cut through the silent air and the Hollow fell to the ground. It dissolved shortly.

Ichigo visibly wilted. This was really not his day. He wanted to fucking KILL that Quincy- he didn't have the time to sit around and play ring-around-the-hollow. As the yellow-eyed beast dematerialized, Ichigo caught sight of his lanky rival standing coolly behind it, looking annoyingly perfect and delicate in the cold light of morning. His glossy raven hair blew slightly to the side in the open wind and the Quincy boy's birdlike, slender figure struck an extremely unwelcome chord of admiration in Ichigo's sword-scarred chest. The sixteen year old was gorgeous; entirely different in his appeal then Renji had been, but gorgeous nonetheless.

With a graceful flick of his wrist, Ishida's bright silver bow disappeared back into the charm on his bracelet. After checking to make sure his clothes were not dirtied or wrinkled, the beautiful brunette approached Ichigo in what he probably imagined was a cocky fashion. However, something seemed off. Ishida's steps were unstable and wavering, as if the boy could hardly even stand up.

"Oh, were you planning to attack that? My bad." The Quincy tried to smile and ended up looking instead as if the corners of his lips were merely twitching and jerking themselves into a surprisingly attractive arch. Ichigo wasted no time in giving Ishida the finger.

"I'm not here to dick around with you, Ishida." He said, sounding rather irritated.

"Trust me, I'm not either. I've been stalking that Hollow all morning. You just happened to waltz in when I was making my move. I had it under control." Ishida said. He then politely covered his mouth and yawned into his palm.

"I don't have the time to waste getting out of my body if I'm not going to fight. I- hold on a second." He slipped behind the dumpster and reunited his soul with his body. Ichigo stepped back out into the open, once again dressed in his school uniform and dusted off the seat of his khaki pants. The redhead was extremely frustrated, and the gravity of his emotion negatively manifested itself in his usually confident voice.

"I really, REALLY just don't have the time. Or the energy. Or the…." Ichigo didn't like how defeated he sounded. He looked up at Ishida, who was leaning against a fence a few yards away. The boy's eyes were trained on Ichigo's face, as if trying to decipher something hidden in the boy's heavy brow. Ichigo was never an observant person and it had taken him until now to realize that Ishida didn't look so chipper either. His pale skin had adopted a sickly pallor and dark bags sagged under his pretty blue eyes. Uryuu obviously hadn't been sleeping much either, but the truly unfair part was that all the damage of sleeplessness suited him. Despite his mechanically groomed appearance, Ishida looked to Ichigo as if he had spent the night staying up…

…_.doing something sophisticated and romantic like reading Keats and sharing a pot of chocolate fondue with a grey-eyed, mature lover. There would be candles, yes, vanilla scented candles and Ishida would run his slender fingers tantalizingly through their flames. The two would gaze hungrily at each other as the night progressed until their lust would become unbearable and the mysterious older man would sweep Ishida off into the bedroom, where they'd make passionate love until long past the break of-_

"-you know what? Whatever. Fuck you. Stay away from my Hollows" Ichigo jerked himself away from his overactive imagination and brushed past Uryuu with every intention to continue on the way to school. That WAS the plan, until Ishida spoke up again.

"You're stressed, Kurosaki. I can tell." Ichigo turned around and saw that Ishida was still scrutinizing him. He felt naked, exposed under his classmate's cold stare. Ishida launched himself off the fence and approached Ichigo again.

"We're going to the same place. Walk with me."

Ichigo snorted. "I thought I asked you to leave me alone." He stormed off angrily. A block later, he realized that Ishida was right- they _were_ going to the same place. Walking together was somewhat inevitable. He looked to his left and realized that Ishida was keeping pace with him. The boy was staring at his feet and very obviously trying not to laugh.

"If you want" the brunette said between stifled chuckles, "You can just use your imagination and pretend I'm invisible."

"Shut up." Ichigo grumbled.

"So hostile." The laughter was gone from the Quincy's voice. He spoke once again in an characteristically calm, smooth timbre. It was a nice change from his everyday theatrics. "Look, I actually have been meaning to talk to you for a few weeks now. I think that we have more in common than you think."

Inside, Ichigo froze. Ishida could NOT have figured him out that quickly. He'd been squashing down every single mildly homosexual habit he'd gotten into over the summer- was Ishida's gaydar really that good?

"I really doubt that, but continue."

Ishida gave Ichigo a meaningful look. "Are you taking the regional exams?"

One word answers were the best. "Yes."

"Are you studying every night for them?"

"Yes."

"And you're taking the advanced classes for our year?"

"Yes."

"…Hollows giving you more trouble than usual?"

"No." Ichigo didn't want to admit that his shinigami duties were finally taking their toll on him, physically and mentally. He was exhausted but then, so was Ishida.

"Did you hang out with anyone from Soul Society over the summer?"

Ichigo's heart nearly skipped a beat. Ishida could NOT know about Renji…but the Quincy could be testing him. Better to bend the truth.

"Not really."

"Oh? Because I spoke to Urahara-san and-

_Shit_. "-Oh, well. I almost forgot. Remember Renji? Tall, red hair, lots of tattoos? He and I…"

Discovered their homosexuality? Were boyfriends? Spent night after night cloistered in the safety of Ichigo's bedroom, educating each other on the finer details of the Freudian pleasure principle?

"…played poker on weekends." _Lame._

Ishida raised his eyebrows for an undetectable moment. "Fun. That's all I needed to know."

They walked in silence for the next two blocks. Ichigo's mind was going into overdrive.

_Why would he want to know all of that? Why does he care? He should know how the Hollows are because he's been fighting them too! He looks as tired as I am. He knows how I feel right now. Why does he need to ask? What's his deal with Renji? Why did-_

The sprawling edifice of their high school appeared before them before Ichigo could complete his thought process. A few of the carpool students were milling around on the blacktop. Ichigo made as if to go through the gate but Ishida grabbed his arm abruptly.

"What now?" the redhead asked, obviously annoyed

Ishida looked Ichigo in the eyes and stared him down once more. His expression was different this time, it was pained. It almost looked at if Ishida was trying desperately to read Ichigo's mind. Ichigo was disturbed by the intensity of Ishida's glare. After all of those prying questions, he felt unnaturally bare and really didn't want to deal with Ishida's inky blue eyes boring holes in his already sensitive flesh.

"What do you want?" he repeated, wanting nothing more than to get away from the Quincy. The boy continued to stare and Ichigo felt himself become incredibly aware of the pressure Ishida was putting on Ichigo's bicep. He felt himself flexing and reveling in the meaty resistance his arm was met with. Ishida felt Ichigo's arm tense under his grip and let go of the shinigami immediately.

"For the last fucking time, what is it?" Ichigo was angry now…a part of him didn't want the boy to let go. He wanted to feel that hand around his arm again and maybe Ichigo could roll up his sleeve to feel Ishida's cold palms against his skin. The soft, orange hairs that peppered the back of Ichigo's neck stood up at the thought of this. Ishida was the president of the handicraft club. He'd be very, very good with his hands. Cool, smooth hands sliding around Ichigo's waist and drawing their two bodies closer together…

Ichigo recognized the beginnings of a twisted and disastrous fantasy and forcefully snapped himself out of it. He tensed again and Ishida noticed the change in body language. He spoke it.

"Actually, it's nothing." He was copping out of answering Ichigo's repetitive inquiries. "I didn't mean anything by it. I should go." The dark-haired boy turned and left Ichigo outside the gate. As he walked away Ichigo could have sworn he heard him mumble:

"I really fucking hate Soul Reapers."

Or something like that.

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First period. Second period. Third, Fourth, Fifth, Lunch.

Ishida didn't come back into the classroom after lunch, and Ichigo was worried. The boy's odd behavior that morning had greatly unsettled him. Something, anything had to be done. Ishida's questions kept running through Ichigo's head. The question about Renji pestered him the most. Ichigo tried a thousand different explanation as to how they could morph together to form a conclusion in the brilliant mind of the Quincy, but nothing came to mind.

"Kurosaki Ichigo?"

Ichigo looked up at his teacher blankly. There was no one else in the classroom. School was over. And he was pretty sure that he'd fallen asleep.

"Kurosaki-kun, it's time to leave. Get in the habit of actually sleeping. You'll need it for the regional exams ne-."

Ichigo felt as if his teacher were speaking to him through a water tank. He hardly registered anything she said as he stood up weakly and packed his schoolbag.

_Ishida. I have to talk to Ishida. He might be onto me"_

"-live. Near the west side of town. I was wondering if maybe you could_-_"

_Of all people…he might know about Renji. He might know about me. _

"For Ishida Uryuu-kun!"

"What?" His teacher had just mentioned Ishida!

"His homework for the last two periods- could you bring it to him? He went home sick and I know you two live close together. Here."

His teacher dropped a manila envelope on Ichigo's desk and smiled down at the dizzy redhead. "His apartment number is printed on the side. Just get it to him sometime tonight."

A perfectly good reason to ambush- er…talk to Ishida at home. Awesome. Perfect. Spectacular. Terrifying.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Half an hour later, Ichigo stood at the front door of flat number 12B in Ishida's apartment block. He knew from school gossip that the Quincy lived alone and that he wasn't well off, but the building he lived in was nicer than Ichigo expected. He supposed that Ishida's elusive father had something to do with that. Ishida might hate him, but his father still had some sort of an obligation to care for his unusually independent son.

Ichigo pressed the buzzer once, then twice. He paused and heard Ishida talking to somebody inside- a male somebody.

Oh no. He'd walked in on a chocolate fondue and existentialist poetry lovemaking session! He was about to meet Ishida's fictitious lover! Mayday! Abort Mission! Mayday!

Ishida was still talking to whoever it was with him in the apartment when he went to answer the buzzer. His voice got louder and louder as he got closer the door, but Ichigo still could not quite make out what he was saying. Ichigo was frozen to the spot- the other voice inside sounded intimately familiar. That tip-of-your-tongue feeling discomfited Ichigo greatly.

Ishida was seconds away from opening the door…the dead bolt slid open, a chain lock jangled apart. The knob jiggled and the door squeaked as the thin Quincy opened it just a crack.

"Ichigo?"

"Hi." Ichigo held out the envelope to Ishida and tried not to notice any annoyingly obsessive-compulsive details about this encounter. Like the fact that the Quincy was changed out of his still school uniform and into a fasten-up shirt and jeans. Or that his black hair was damp and his bangs were sexily plastered to his forehead. Or that the Quincy was wearing his glasses again and Ichigo couldn't see his divine midnight eyes quite as easily as he could earlier that day.

"Here's your homework. BYE!" Ichigo practically threw the envelope at Ishida and was prepared to sprint down the hallway. Unfortunately, his legs weren't really working all that well. There was a long, awkward silence broken only by the rustling of papers as Ishida opened the envelope (was he checking for a bomb?).

"Ichigo, it's really weird that you're here."

"I know. Don't remind me."

Ishida laughed. "No, I mean that it's weird because we were just talking about you." He opened the door wide and gave Ichigo a full view of the apartment's foyer and his kitchen table.

Ichigo's jaw dropped.

Kneeling demurely on Ishida's Quincy-decorated tatami mats was a tall, stocky young man with crimson red hair, carefully patterned eyebrows, and a characteristically wolfish smile.

"R-Renji?"


	3. That Sneaky BITCH!

-Author's Note-

So the votes are in and Sel is a horrible person. I still can't manage to update this half as often as I'd like to, but the good news is that in a matter of four days, I'll be on winter break and will have all the time in the world to write and write and write! Ah… t'will be lovely.

I want to thank everybody who's reviewed so far! You guys really encourage me to keep going on with this story, it's great! I'm determined to make IchiIshi fans out of most of you by the time I'm done!

I also want to reply to one of my more recent reviews, the content of which I found interesting. I won't post the review here, but the topic I'll be clearing up is that of _denial._

I'll only say this, for now:

There's really only one character so far that's in serious denial, but he hasn't really stepped up with it.

Continue to review, review, review! I adore your feedback!

**-saltoftheearth-**

**So Let's Put Wallpaper Up Between Our Ears**

**Chapter 3- That Sneaky BITCH!**

…_Over the years  
As my attention span disappears  
Blink and it's gone  
A moment has never seemed so long…_

-"Motorology" by Ozma

"R-Renji?"

"Ichigo!"

The broad-shouldered fukitaichou looked to Ichigo as if he'd just been slapped across the face with a particularly damp and slippery trout. Ichigo was unable to hide his surprise and subconsciously mirrored his unofficial ex-boyfriend's slack-jawed, astonished expression perfectly. For a split second, the two actually did look like they could have been cousins.

Mentally challenged cousins, but cousins nonetheless.

Ishida seemed taken aback by the sudden blast of tangible tension in the air (or was that just some hypertonic reitsu?) and for the second time that day- his left eyebrow flicked upward in a suspicious twitch.

"Well," he turned back and addressed Renji in an uptight, formal tone, "we were going to have to talk to him about it anyway,"

At the sound of Uryuu's voice, Renji seemed to snap out of a strawberry-induced trance and refocus his attention on whatever matter they had been discussing before Ichigo's entrance. Renji nodded in evident concurrence with Ishida. He looked over at Uryuu, probably wondering who should begin the explanation.

"Talk to me about what?" Ichigo interrupted the carefully measured silence in his usual brusque, tactless manner. "I'm only here to drop off homework- not to interrupt anything."

The redhead's mind was truly and honestly reeling. The sight of his handsome ex-boyfriend's guilty face, Ishida's smug pout (the boy had perfect pouting lips, like the models on the billboards Ichigo had first found himself staring at)…it was a little bit too much for Ichigo to handle. He wanted to know what in the fuck Renji was doing back in the human world, much more in Ishida's apartment. He wanted to know what in the fuck this had to do with him. He wanted to know what in the fuck was going on, period.

"I'd only suspected before that your shinigami duties were taking an unhealthy toll on you, Ichigo." Ishida quickly regained control of the awkward conversation and gestured for Ichigo to sit down, if he so pleased. The redhead remained standing.

"I spoke with you this morning only to confirm my assumptions. You're taking the regional exams and honor level classes, just like me. If you're out there fighting Hollows half as often as I am, you know how harrowing it can be. I'm concerned for my grades and for my ability to study. I spoke with Urahara-san and he told me he could arrange for more shinigami coverage in Karakur-"

Ichigo interrupted Ishida's speech with a short, barking laugh.

"You asked Soul Society for help? What happened to that legendary Quincy Pride?"

Ishida's subsequent glare could have chilled a pot of boiling lava. It was unequivocally clear that the Quincy was still smarting from the humiliating blow to his usual conceit, and that he really was not about to allow Ichigo's big mouth rub it in for one moment longer. Ichigo was smart enough to silence himself, and he nodded sheepishly for Ishida to continue. His lanky classmate might not have appeared to be as strong as Ichigo, but the redhead had always been under the impression that if push came to shove, Uryuu could beat the shit out of him. He wasn't about to test that theory, especially not in front of Renji. Ishida dragged his frosty gaze away from Ichigo's face and continued with his spiel.

"I asked Urahara-san to see if he could aid us in garnering more shinigami coverage in our immediate area, so we wouldn't have to concern ourselves with as many Hollows as we have been currently dealing with. I did such so we could concentrate on our human responsibilities. I didn't know that Soul Society would send a fukitaichou to negotiate with me, I only knew that I had to schedule an appointment during school hours to rendezvous with a Soul Society representative. That's why I made my early egression, but I didn't plan on your arriving here- I didn't really even plan on telling you until after everything had been sorted out. But you showed up, and now you know. So…yes. Quite."

For all the flowery language Ishida was known for using, Ichigo couldn't help bit stifle a grin at the complete lameness of his closing statement. It seemed that for one brief, shining moment, Ishida Uryuu had thoroughly talked himself out. Ichigo found the situation both irritating and endearing. He nodded slightly, indicating that he at least comprehended Ishida's mission. And what was this foreign feeling creeping through his veins? It might have been gratitude, but let's not be hasty. For now, we'll call it relief. Ichigo was relieved that this had just been a cosmic coincidence and that his secret was still safe.

"Wow, Ishida." Ichigo said shakily, "That's the first good idea you've come up with for ages." Of course, he couldn't let the Quincy bask in his credit. That would just be too nice. Ichigo felt a slight, mildly uncomfortable tug at his heart when Ishida smiled wryly and answered him as he knew he should.

"You're welcome, Ichigo." Ichigo averted his gaze when Ishida attempted to lock eyes with him and found himself looking at Renji; of whom had been volleying back and forth between listening to Uryuu and trying to gauge Ichigo's reactions to his cleverish plan.

"Well, I'm glad that's cleared up." The tall, wolfish vice-captain slapped his palms on Ishida's kitchen table (the Quincy cringed at the loud noise) and raised himself up into a standing position. He seemed to be pumped up with his typical overblown bravado, but to Ichigo (who knew him better than most) it was clear that the shinigami had been shaken by this whole encounter. "I'll talk to the Thirteen about sending in a few more reapers to help you guys out."

Ishida answered him with a stiff bow; he clearly still wasn't accustomed to the idea of asking the shinigami for help. "I thank you, Abarai-kun, for meeting with me on such short notice. And Ichigo, are you quite satisfied with our arrangement?"

All Ichigo felt he could do was nod- as tense as he had been before, it was definitely a relief to know that he wouldn't have to worry about attacking every Hollow that came into range. Time was essential at that point in Ichigo's life- his many stressors had been taking their toll on him. Ishida was right to assume that the Hollows made up a big part of his burden. If possible, he would find a way of thanking-but-not-thanking his handsome classmate at some point in the future.

"I should go." Renji shifted Zabimaru's sword-belt at his waist and saw himself to the door. He locked eyes with Ichigo before he left, though. Ichigo's leg jerked precariously, as if his body wanted him to follow the shinigami out.

"Perhaps both of you should go," Ishida said, and up went that sketchy eyebrow again. "Thank you for the homework, Ichigo. I will undoubtedly see you tomorrow." Ishida politely opened his door and made a strangely elegant shooing gesture, as if to usher Ichigo out with the smooth motions of his spacious palms.

Ichigo took the hint and had to restrain himself from sprinting out of Ishida's immaculate apartment after Renji; subsequently he was surprised when he found the shinigami leaning against the apartment door opposite Ishida's. He had been waiting for Ichigo to come out. Ichigo heard Ishida close the door behind him and pad away into the recesses of his apartment- it was, perhaps, safe to talk. Renji leaned against the wall and scowled at Ichigo; the teenager returned the expression twofold.

"When I heard the notice that one of the old ryoka crew had called for help, I coulda sworn that it was gonna be you. I volunteered to come back down 'ere because I thought I'd get to see you again. We kinda got torn apart the last time, eh, strawberry?"

Ichigo slapped his palm over Renji's mouth and checked to make sure nobody was else in the hallway.

"Don't say things like that. Somebody might hear you." He removed his hand and saw that Renji was grinning widely down at him. He hated that minute height difference- it meant that Renji too often had the advantage that Ichigo craved. There was a comfortable pause, during which Rengi sighed and licked his lips. They were chapped, just like Ishida's.

"So you haven't told anybody either?" the powerful vice-captain reasoned. Ichigo suddenly felt very, very ashamed.

"No, I haven't. Nobody knows."

Renji nodded "Me neither. I won't even say I'm _planning_ on telling anybody. It's too-"

"Radical?"

"Yeah. They wouldn't get it. I don't want to deal with it."

"Me neither" Ichigo nodded in agreement with Renji "I guess we're both just a little bit too-"

They spoke together in the same breath- "Proud."

There was a beat of silence, during which Renji reached over to ruffle Ichigo's hair playfully. The human boy hated it when he did that- but it looked more brotherly than lover-esque, so he allowed it. He'd really liked Renji. He was a strong, able fighter with a good heart and nice hair. In many respects, they were very much alike. Both were stubborn, prideful redheads with god complexes and a secret they couldn't divulge at the cost of their hard-earned reputations.

"We never really got to say g'bye before I left." Renji finally broke the silence and dragged a lazy thumb across Ichigo's princely cheek.

"Nope. You were called away overnight, baka. I didn't have the chance."

"Well, I'm leaving again now, aren't I?"

Renji didn't have to say anything else. Ichigo checked again to make sure nobody was watching and leaned up against Renji to bring their lips together. The older man smiled into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Ichigo's waist to drag him closer; he'd missed Ichigo a lot those first few weeks.

Ichigo was surprised to see that Renji was content with settling his hand on Ichigo's hips and kissing him gently. This wasn't one of their ravenous attempts at besting the other. This wasn't a furious flurry of cloth or of frantic, needy commotion- there was no desperation to learn and to teach. It really was just what Renji had asked for, a goodbye.

Renji broke away first and leaned in to press his nose against Ichigo's orange hair. And no, he didn't smell like _strawberries_. Ichigo smelled like soap, and salt, and the accidental bottle of Karin's girly shampoo.

"Gomen, Ichigo. Good luck on your exams." Renji squeezed Ichigo's side, winked at his young friend (for after that, they could finally be friends once again) and strolled down the hallway.

Ichigo touched his forefinger to his lips and felt the last remnants of Renji's heat fade from them. It was a conclusion, that was for sure. And now…he had to get the hell out of here. This whole building was so organized…so clean. So Ishida. Ichigo wanted to go home and play guitar for a long, long time. Maybe throw a few socks around the floor of his room. Jerk off. Kick Kon. He just wanted to feel normal for a night.

Kurosaki Ishigo, the closet-gay shinigami substitute, turned on his heel and walked home.

It's too bad. If he had stayed, he might have noticed that Ishida's apartment door peephole was open. He might have looked around and spotted the Quincy's dark blue eye pressed up against the magnifying glass, watching everything that happened in the hallway outside his apartment. He might have heard the Quincy chuckle slightly when he kissed Renji. He might have heard the scratch of pencil on paper when Ishida wrote down in his journal that his _real_ suspicions had been confirmed.

But Ichigo left early. And thus he'd missed his chance to find out exactly how Ishida found out.


	4. Gang Aft Agley

-Author's Note-

Aha! This is why I love breaks from school! I have more time to write and you get a virtual double-dosage of wallpaper between your ears! This chapter is the first of many that will start answering your questions. Fear not- every last one of them will be answered by the time we're through here. PLEASE continue being madly awesome and review me, keep me in check (I'm already trying to take some of your advice in this chapter). It's really fulfilling to read what you guys have to say about my dear first attempt at IchiIshi fanfiction...

Laterandthelike,  
**-****saltoftheearth****-**

**So Let's Put Wallpaper Up Between Our Ears**

**Chapter Four: Gang Aft Agley **

…_I'm still dreaming of clock towers and synchronicity  
__You call it coincidence- I call it common sense.  
__The truth will set you free if you've been slave to a lie…  
_-"Motorology 3:39" by Ozma

"Alright, Keigo. I got a joke for you."

Lunch was a crucial time for social interaction between adolescent Japanese primates of the _Homo Sapiens Sapiens_ genus and species. There were jokes to be said, feints to be performed and observed. Reputations to preserve. Sweeping social coups that brought one group to victory and the other to the daunting "eat behind the dumpster, loser" defeat. Ichigo had always been at the center of it all. Whether he was brooding with Chad, being emotionally molested by Keigo, or skirting around romantic conversation with Orihime, Ichigo was always at the center of someone's attention. It's really hard to hide things when somebody's always looking at you.

Ichigo had a lot to hide.

"Right, okay. So four gay guys walk into a bar."

It had been a few days since the teenage shinigami had paid the visit to Uryuu's apartment (that many days closer to exams!) and Ichigo had to admit that Ishida's plan had worked out miraculously. He'd gone to bed at a decent time last night, even after studying for his honors calculus class and taking a practice test for the Regionals. Every time he sensed a Hollow somewhere near, he'd feel a flash of spirit energy and the Hollow would be extinguished immediately. Time was something the redhead was not used to having. He liked it.

"They see that there's only one four-legged stool left at the bar."

He also liked not having to thank Ishida (that would have been annoying). The scrawny Quincy had been booking in the other direction whenever he saw Ichigo in the hallway and while Ichigo wondered why his former fellow vigilante was making such an effort to avoid him…he couldn't say he minded all that much. If he wasn't confronted with the Quincy's pretty eyes and perfect lips on a daily basis, he didn't have to worry about launching into a completely unwanted daydream involving something that really shouldn't be sexy but worked in the case of Ishida. Like sewing needles. And bowstrings. Or haphazardly scattered buttons. Ichigo couldn't help it, the boy was beautiful and he was just so…there. So familiarly gay. So available. So impossible. So scary-as-fuck, actually.

"One of the guys says 'Let's flip for it.'"

Still, as long as the sexuality-that-shall-not-be-named stayed safely nestled in the dark and mysterious recesses of Ichigo's [dirty mind, he was fine. To keep up appearances, Ichigo appeared to be as insensitive to the subject as ever. Ishida was eating alone only a few yards away, after all.

"Another one says, 'No, let's just flip it over!'"

Ichigo was biting into an apple and sitting on the top of the maroon picnic bench as he let the punch line fly. He choked out a laugh at his own joke and sprayed the poor kid next to him with apple chunks, infused with just a little bit of that hard-to-get Ichigo flavor.

_Oho. Homosexuality. What a funny topic. Queer, indeed. What a hilarious misunderstanding_.

Keigo laughed really loudly. So did most of the other guys (though not as loud as Keigo.) Chad never laughed at any bias jokes, on account of his ethnic sensitivity (such a nice boy…). Chizuru rolled her eyes. Orihime frowned.

Ishida, however, flipped the hell out.

"Oh, **FUCK** you, Kurosaki!" there was a huge crashing noise and a couple people who had been sitting near Ishida had screamed. Ichigo almost choked on the bite of apple in his mouth but managed to swallow it whole before whirling around to deal with the Quincy's outburst.

After the initial commotion there was dead silence in the schoolyard. Every available head swiveled around to stare at the irate Uryuu, who was standing with his feet planted, fists clenched, and brow furrowed into the deepest, angriest frown Ichigo had ever witnessed on such a usually lovely face. The shinigami gaped-

_That can't have been the first gay joke he's heard. He's got to be used to it by now. I'm not bothered by them (much). Was he really that badly insulted? Shit. After what he did for me…_

"Kurosaki Ichigo, you are an asshole in the first degree." Ishida spoke in a smooth, calculating tone that froze Ichigo where he stood. Scary Quincy. Very, very scary Quincy.

"You're a liar and a phony and a fake-ass rat bastard. There isn't even a standard to judge how much of a fraud you are, you sick son of a bitch. So fuck you. Fuck you with something long, hard, and constructed from a material that has an extremely uncomfortable texture."

_Sandpaper maybe? Oh fuck that would hurt. Refocusing! _Ichigo was veritably stunned by Ishida's explosion and by the look of it, so was the entire school. Ishida had thrown his bento box against a tree in his initial anger and Ichigo could see the scratch marks it had left. There were also burns on the tree, as if Uryuu had fired the box with spirit energy concentrated in his palms as well as the normal sort of brut force. He really was pissed. The Quincy stormed out of the schoolyard, but as he brushed by Ichigo's table on the way out, he audibly hissed:

"_Hypocrite!"_

The apple fell from Ichigo's hand as he watched the Quincy's retreating back stomp to the edge of the schoolyard. Ishida didn't head back towards the school building, he turned the other way and headed back towards town. He didn't look back for a single moment.

_What in the HELL was that?_

**Clap. Clap. Clap Clap. Clap? Calp! Cpla. Palc.**

Somebody (Ichigo didn't bother turning around to see who) tried to break the extremely uncomfortable silence that ensued by starting a slow clap for the vanished Quincy. It didn't catch on.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_What am I even doing here? I should be in class. Then again, so should Ishida._

Ichigo found himself dipping and swerving between single-sighted, hurrying people on the main commercial street in the center of Karakura Town. Believe it or not, he was following Uryuu.The redhead had dashed out after the Quincy once he had gotten over the initial shock of being so badly berated by his usually quiet classmate. Ishida's furious expression was plastered on the edges of Ichigo's mind.

_He called me a hypocrite. He knows. I'm a liar, I'm a phony, I'm a fake. And Uryuu knows_. Ichigo lost the Quincy's trail for a while but after a few more blocks of covert tailing, the shinigami finally realized where Uryuu must have headed.

"Nude," Karakura's well-established fabric store. Talk about some major retail therapy. Ichigo caught his breath as he sighted the shop just a few stores down. He pushed the glass door open (leaving smudges from his sweaty palms for an employee to buff away) and scanned what he could see of the aisles from his vantage point at the door.

There. Between the neon and poly blend sections. A flash of pale skin, a shopping basket carefully draped over the crook of a bony elbow- it was Uryuu. _Go, go, go!_

"Ishida-kun!" Ichigo called out to his classmate and waved. Several employees glared at him openly. Ishida looked up at the sound of his name and frowned deeply. He began moving very quickly in the other direction, but Ichigo wasn't going to let him get away. He caught up with Ishida and grabbed the boy's shoulder before he could even realize Ichigo had snuck up behind him.

"Hey! Let me go, baka, before I fire an arrow straight through your thick skull." Ichigo wasn't fazed yet.

"Yo, what the hell happened back at school? What's the matter with you, are you PMSing or are you just overly pissed at me?"

"Go away, you charlatan."

Ishida wrenched his arm out of Ichigo's grasp and marched off into the next aisle. Like an obedient puppy dog, Ichigo followed him as he browsed through a whole section of cotton and lycra.

"It was a joke. Nobody gets that pissed over a joke. I can understand where you're coming from but that was just unnecessary…"

A slight smile played at the edges of Ishida's lips.

"…not going to apologize…" Ichigo was le' babbling…

Ishida raised his eyebrows slightly and continued smiling as Ichigo went on with his speech:

"…need to get over it, okay?"

There was a pause after Ichigo finished speaking. _What did I even just say? Oh dear…word regurgitation…_

The silence was broken by Ishida, who seemed to have seen something at the bottom of the shop shelf that caught his eye.

"Kurosaki, bend over just a little bit, will you?"

"Er, what?"

Ishida sighed. "Bend over or kneel down. That fabric down there is so close in hue to that of your remarkable hair, I want to compare them."

"You're a freak, do you know that?" Ichigo didn't know why he found himself kneeling down and pressing his head against the shelf in compliance with Ishida's odd request. But there he was. Ishida's hand pulled at the stationary roll of fabric and dragged a corner over to there Ichigo's head was. For a second, his perfect, calloused hands brushed against Ichigo's hair and the shinigami felt as if somebody had tazered him. It was like a jolt of pure chemistry. He hated it. Ichigo stood up to see Ishida writing down the ID number of the fabric he'd been comparing with Ichigo's hair in a little journal. Perhaps a shopping list for an upcoming project?

"I'm a freak. Yes, so you've said. But at least I'm a real freak, unlike you." Ishida sauntered on down the aisle. Ichigo still tailed him in puzzlement.

"What do you mean?"

The Quincy turned around sharply and faced Ichigo. They were standing awfully, awfully close to each other.

"Kurosaki, your life is nothing but a lie, and I'll tell you precisely why. You're gayer than a barrel full of freakin' pink monkeys yet you've got the nerve to fake swooning over girls and tell mean gay jokes. You're too damn scared, or proud, or whatever other dumb reason you've made up to be who you are and for that you're a coward. Your Hollow mask isn't the only cover you're sporting these days."

For the second time that day, Ichigo was stunned by Ishida's words. So…Ishida knew this whole time? And he was only really mad because he thought Ichigo was hiding himself? That was simultaneously the most and least relieving speech Ichigo had ever been on the receiving end of.

"Well, what about you? Everybody knows that you're gay and you won't even step up to confirm it! You might think you're being obvious, but that looks to me like you're just hiding in plain sight."

Ishida's eye twitched. "Don't pretend like you know what I'm hiding, Kurosaki." The Quincy then backed away (they had been getting closer and closer as the pseudo-argument went on) and turned on his heel to finish up his shopping. He picked out a few leather pieces here and there and made sure to run his long fingers along the smooth rolls of all the fabrics he liked. Ichigo walked awkwardly a few paces behind him (they couldn't go back to school now, he might as well stay) and finally found it in him to break their silence in the next aisle.

"So what are you making with this stuff, Ishida?"

"A messenger bag with adjustable straps and cross-stitch patterns on the buckle loops."

Well, that was descriptive. Ichigo just nodded.

"Is it for you?"

"No, it's for the tooth fairy to carry all those coins around in- YES it's for me."

The redhead cracked a smile. Sarcastic bastard as he was, Ishida had his amusing moments.

"How long do you think it's going to take you?"

"I can have it done over the weekend, now that I have a bit more free time to play around with."

"Right. About that, thanks for talki-"

"-Don't even mention it. Urahara had a lot to do with it and I don't want to talk about it."

"Got it." At least now Ichigo knew he didn't have to make any formal sign of gratitude. The Quincy pulled a pocket watch out of his mostly empty schoolbag and squinted down at the time.

"I'm almost done shopping here. Ichigo could you run back and grab a yard of that orange we were looking at? Meet me back at the cash register."

_Random as hell much? But okay. If he wants to be abnormally bossy, I'll humor him._

Whirr. Measure. Snip. Wrap. Fabric was set, Ichigo worked his way through the aisles and caught up with Ishida in the fabric line. The flaccid bolt of orange fabric looked almost ridiculous in comparison to his own wiry, vibrant mop of hair. Ishida thanked him and the two boys waited in comfortable silence for the cashier to ring Uryuu up.

_Does this mean all's forgiven? God, he's moody. Seriously weird boy. Why is it always the hot ones that are weird as hell? He is hot though. No, he's not hot- he's a frigid bitch! A gorgeous frigid bitch. The Ice Prince. I think I am forgiven, he seems to be kind of okay with me, He just needed to get that rant off his chest. Oh, he's smiling. Oh, don't smile. I never see him smile. I just want to-_

"Ichigo? I asked if I could borrow a few yen. I'm short for the orange fabric."

Ichigo's mind was still spiraling into a dangerous admiration of Ishida's chilly good looks and equally as icy personality to really be listening. He handed over the money Ishida needed without a word and barely heard the boy say thank you.

_Those lopsided muscles, one arm so toned from the bow the other one's weaker… Sweet lord he's slim. And tall. Striking even. Shit. He's leaving._

Once they got outside the fabric store, Ishida turned to Ichigo and frowned at him again.

"You really need to reevaluate your priorities, Kurosaki. People are going to find out. Maybe instead of being scared of yourself, you should accept what you are and move the hell on."

_He is really, really attractive when he's being didactic about something. Really attractive. _

"I have a lot of thinking to do, Ishida."

"Really? For the love of God, try not to hurt yourself with that!"

It was Ichigo's turn to be unamused. "I mean it. Maybe you're right. But for now I have other things to worry about. Exams. School. Clinic. Any of that ring a bell?"

Ishida nodded. "I get it. I'm not saying you should come out to the whole school tomorrow and wave around Dumbledore Pride flags all day, but you can't hide forever. You're so bold with everything else, why not with this?"

_Wow, that was a really vivid mental image there. Thank you, Ishida._

"I'm bold?" Ichigo smiled widely. Uryuu said the strangest things sometimes. It was another funky habit of his.

"Yes."

"I'm bold."

"Yes, you're bold. You know, like…sassy."

"Sassy!"

Ishida laughed at his own word choice. "Not sassy! Like, impertinent. Cheeky. Brazen."

"Ishida?"

"Yes, Ichigo?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Oka-"

Ichigo leaned forward and brushed his nervously chewed-up lips against the corner of Ishida's sweet mouth. The boy stood up straighter, but didn't say anything to encourage or dispirit Ichigo's advance. The redhead wasn't quite sure what to do next. He tilted his head to the side and kissed Ishida openly; he snaked his arm around the boy's waist and tugged him closer. Ichigo eagerly worked towards coercing Ishida's (oddly reluctant) kiss; his tongue ran along the Quincy's bottom lip in an attempt to entice him to open his perfect, godly mouth- but Ichigo had already sensed that something was wrong. He pulled away and let go of Uryuu. The boy wasn't looking at Ichigo as much as he was staring off into the distance. He wasn't kissing Ichigo back; he didn't even close his eyes!

"Ishida? Is that- are you okay?"

"Thanks for the fabric."

Ichigo frowned. "What?"

"I have to go now." The Quincy stepped away from Ichigo, still not looking him in the eyes, and slipped away down the block. Ichigo watched him go with a feeling of complete and utter misery threatening to build up in his tanned, soul-reaping chest.

_Oh...shitfuck._


End file.

Bleach, Friendship, Romance