Title: No Heart-Warming Stories (Bookmark)
Author: Lys
Characters/Pairing: Ishida Uryuu/Kon, Kurosaki Ichigo
Rating/Warnings: Porn. Unprotected anal sex. Surprise!Ichigo. NC-17.
Status: Bookmark 6/10, 2503 words.

01: Bookmark
02: I Tell Ya What, Man
03: Low-Down Dirty Thief
04: They Also Mourn, Who Don't Wear Black
05: And Take It All Off

a/n: more smut. hell yeah. anyway, as you have probably guessed, the shit will now hit the fan.




The foam slid from their hair and down their bodies, gathering in clumps at the drain. Kon found Ichigo’s designated dark blue shower-puff and absently reached for one of the bottles of shower gel gathered in the caddy. Ishida batted at his hand, pointing at a different bottle.

“Not that one. Get the vanilla-scented one.”

Kon hesitated, before snatching the one in the pale yellow bottle, squeezing a healthy amount into the blue puff.

“Why not the other one?”

“Because,” Ishida said gravely, “Orange and ‘fresh’ are not a nice or appropriate combination of scents, whatever ‘fresh’ may be.”

“If you say so.” Kon replaced the bottle and scrubbed roughly at his chest until the skin was pink and warm to Ishida’s touch, as the dark-haired boy gently worked Kon’s shoulders with the tips of his fingers, working from his shoulders to his thighs, then lifting his legs one at a time to clean his calved, spending special attention on the pads of his long feet, rubbing down the arch and the knuckles of each toe. Ishida could see the deep thought in the set of his back, choosing to ignore it while the mod-soul finished his cleaning rituals.

“It’s good,” Kon finally whispered.

“What,” Ishida stopped rubbing, looking at the back of Kon’s shaggy, wet head expectantly. “is good? If it’s the massage, you should have been expecting it to be at least passable.” Ishida left his ‘I am a Quincy, after all’ unsaid.

“That was nice,” Kon said honestly, “but I meant that you like me that way.” He stod straight, holdin the puff forward and above his head and working it between his hands, directly in the spray of the water, rinsing it out thoroughly. He reached for the bottle of vanilla shower gel again.

“Ah,” said Ishida. “I suppose it was only a matter of time. It’s basic humanity; you spend enough time with a person, and there are only two eventual outcomes. Hate them, or love them.”

Kon froze at Ishida’s last sentence, snapping the cap to the shower gel shut silently as the Quincy grew nervous. Silent was not normal in any way, for Kon. Finally, Kon turned around in the shower to face Ishida, chest still bright from his rough cleaning job. He pawed the puff with his hands, lathering it. Ishida gave him a worried, questioning look, unsure what was happening.

“Lift your arms,” Kon said softly, and Ishida obliged, raising his hand above his head and crossing them behind his neck. Kon pressed the plastic puff against the right side of Ishida’s chest and began scrubbing carefully, gentler than he’d been with his own skin.

“Uryuu.” Kon waited patiently for Ishida’s permission to continue, chewing on a piece of dead skin on his lip. He looked unsure of himself.

“Yes?”

“That means you love me, right?”

“I haven’t loved anyone since my grandfather (and God rest his soul), so I wouldn’t rightly know.”

Kon frowned, dissatisfaction with Ishida’s answer seeping into the boy’s body language. His hands stopped where they were, running the lathered shower-puff over Ishida’s sleek abdomen.

“But I probably do love you.”

A strange sort of light came into Kon’s eyes and he continued working his way down Ishida’s body, attentive of every area, cleaning much more swiftly than before. Ishida cocked his head at Kon as he bent to reach Ishida’s soft knees.

“Did I upset you?”

“No. I think I just needed to hear it.”

“Ah,” said Ishida.

“You know,” Kon plowed on, voice far-away and strangely more mature than usual. Ishida stared down at the top of his head, wondering where Kon’s train of thought was taking them, having obviously left the station. “The first time I had to shower in Ichigo’s body, it was uncomfortable. I didn’t like having the water coming down on my head like this, not stopping. It felt like I was going to drown.”

“Understandable,” Ishida said, confused but oddly enjoying the mod-soul telling him about himself in such detail. It was another form of their growing intimacy, one which Ishida wasn’t used to, having lived on his own since the death of his grandfather. “It’s instinctual.”

“For small children and animals,” Kon observed. Ishida was suddenly acutely aware that Kon had—having run out of other areas to wash—started cleaning his genitals. He sighed, petting Kon’s water-darkened hair.

“I’m an adult. I don’t even really know how old I am, spiritually speaking. It kind of makes me mad, that I didn’t even know what it felt like to shower.”

The Quincy continued to thread his hands through Kon’s head, in questioning silence. He couldn’t even begin to guess what Kon was getting at, and instead decided to focus on the feel of the boy’s shower-soft palms carefully working between his legs.

“So all I’m saying is, I’m not…experienced the way you and normal people are.”

Ishida choked back a rueful laugh at the thought of himself as normal, definitely disagreeing but not willing to interrupt Kon, either. Ishida Uryuu, normal? Surely you jest.

“It’s not like I’m one of the characters in Nee-san’s harlequin novels. I’m not acting stupid because I’m hiding some kind of depth. I’m acting stupid because I am.”

He finished his washing job, standing up slowly and staring down at Ishida seriously.

“What you see is what you get. Fair warning.”

Chuckling lightly, Ishida kissed Kon on the light brown mole on Kurosaki’s neck that was perpetually drawing Ishida’s attention away from whatever was going on in classes that day. He swirled his tongue along the skin, enjoying the clean but salty flavor of the freshly-washed skin. He parted, the corner of his lip turned up in amusement, pulling his sticking bangs back off of his face and tucking them behind one ear.

“Oh, please. Did you think I actually bought into that deep and mysterious bullshit?”

Kon grinned at him, impossibly wide.

“I like you because you’re refreshing, Kon. Let’s have sex, now. The water is getting cold.”

Not hesitating for a second, Kon turned the showerhead off with one hand and wrapped the other fully around Ishida’s slowly awakening cock and ran his thumb up and down the top slowly, wide grin still plastered on his face. He gradually started to jack Ishida off, fingers water-slick and pruney, feeling more sexy than Ishida could ever possibly have imagined something so un-sexy could feel. He squeezed his blue eyes tightly shut to gather himself and then carefully wound his arm over Kon’s to cup his testicles, rolling them in his palm.

“If I’d have known saying I loved you made you this frisky,” Ishida said, laughing in bell-tones, “I’d have been honest with myself weeks ago.”

Kon gave a bark of a laugh at Ishida’s comment, appreciating the humor in it. He captured Ishida’s mouth with his own, invading it with his tongue. Ishida made the kiss last for a moment longer than Kon had planned, enjoying the taste of spearmint that still lingered from the recent tooth-brushing. He let go, both boys breathing hard, chests shaking. Ishida bent slightly at the waist, ghosting a hand back from Kon’s testicles, tickling the impossibly soft skin behind them and moving slowly toward the cleft of Kon’s ass.

“Please. Please let me fuck you.”

Kon blushed darkly at Ishida, eyes flickering down and to the left. He knit his orange brows together. Ishida stopped moving, pulling his hand back away from Kon. Kon stopped his slow pumping of Ishida’s swollen erection.

“I want to,” he said, guilt heavy in his tenor voice.

“I want you to so bad, Uryuu, but I can’t. Not in Ichigo’s body. Please understand where I’m coming from. He’d kill me. He’d stab me and bleed me out and I’d deserve it.”

Ishida’s face fell, feeling a little guilty too, for Kon’s sake. Possibly for Kurosaki’s sake as well; after all, he may have been a shinigami, but he was a shinigami and a good man. And Ishida respected him.

Greatly.

Ishida paused, staring at Kon. It wasn’t like this, before. It was never like this in Ishida’s dreams. In Ishida’s dreams, he was on top of Kurosaki’s body, whoever happened to be inhabiting it, he wouldn’t have been offput by either one of them. He was on top of Kurosaki’s body, slamming into it while his own name was moaned deeply in the dark.

“Fuck me,” Ishida said.

“If you don’t want—“

“I want you to fuck me, Kon. Fuck me.” Ishida reached adamantly into the shower caddy, finding a pump-bottle of vitamin-e gel in it, which he pulled out and started pumping, until an ample amount was in his palm. He tossed the bottle back into the caddy. The gel was much thicker than lube; it would end up drying to a sticky consistency, but it would suffice. It would have to.

Kon licked his lips, brown eyes dark. “You’re sure?”

“You want to fuck me, too. So do it.”

Kon leaned forward, disguising the grin on his face by pressing his lips against Ishida’s own thin ones, stubble rough against the sensitive skin of Ishida’s cheeks. Kon sighed deeply.

“I love you, Uryuu,” he said, voice excited but high and earnest.

Kon smoothed a palm over a patch of russet pubic hair before grabbing his own growing erection, sliding the foreskin back and working himself until his cock stood attentive, glans pointed up, nearly rubbing against Kon’s abs, impossibly structured for a boy of only 16. Ishida stared appreciatively.

“Christ,” he groaned, his own, more modest erection bobbing. “Kurosaki’s not normal.”

Kon gave Ishida a sort of shit-eating grin before sobering, eyeing his own crotch and then Ishida’s midsection plaintively.

“I, uh. I don’t—“

“Relax,” Ishida said in an excessively unrelaxed, heated voice. “I’ll handle this part. You just wait until I give you the word and do what comes naturally to any young man.”

Ishida reached slowly behind him, running his gel-coated fingers up and down before sliding them into himself with excruciating personal patience, one at a time. A first, and he grunted with effort. Two more followed, each slightly more quickly than the first. He moved the three fingers in a circle, scissored them twice and curled them, hooking them to reach for the prostate he knew had to be around somewhere, because he’d taken sex ed in high school already.

Ishida’s eyes drew wide with surprise, mouth falling open until his pink tongue hung out.

“Oh,” he gasped. “So that’s what it was like.”

“That’s right,” Kon muttered, hand brushing up and down his cock, physically twitching as he watched the dark-haired boy practically getting himself off. “And you never even tried it before? Cocktease.”

“You don’t know,” Ishida gasped, “how much it turns me on,” he drew his fingers out slowly, knees wobbling, “when you cuss like that.”

Ishida turned around, staring at the wall behind him, trying hard to figure out the best way to position himself and go about the actual serious sex part of sex.

“No,” Kon said, shaking a large drop of water that was bothering him immensely off of his nose, wincing when it landed on his red, engorged penis. “I have an idea about how to do this easier.”

Ishida gave him a dumbfounded look.

Slowly, arousal causing issues with his fine motor skills, Kon turned Ishida around to face him and, with incredible care, lifted the Quincy from the slippery porcelain of the shower tub, biceps under his armpits. Placing the length of Ishida’s back against the tiles of the wall behind him, Kon apologized as Ishida yelped, backside suddenly chill while Ishida’s front side was still heated from the water and the hard length of Kon’s torso. Ishida wrapped hairless thighs around Kon’s waist, small, tight archer’s muscles wrapping around Kon’s long, thick neck.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Kon said, gasping as Ishida’s erection was pressed fiercely into his stomach under Ishida’s weight. Ishida shut his eyes, friction of skin on skin delicious after the open humidity of the shower. The small hairs that ran down from Kon’s bellybutton tickled Ishida’s scrotum and he dug his small nails into the muscle of Kon’s shoulders. “I’m sure. I can launch a hollow into the air. My legs can manage to hold you off of the ground.”

Satisfied, Ishida braced himself. “I’m ready. Start before we change our collective minds.”

Kon buried himself in Ishida in one liquid movement, hips inhumanly flexible and delightfully graceful. Ishida threw his head back, crown hitting the tile with a soft thump. He growled, chest vibrating against Ishida’s form.

“Ah,” Ishida sighed, hissing. It burned. It burned and it hurt just enough to be satisfying, like the scalding water had been. Fifty times better than the water. The throb of his own light pain joined the throb of Kon’s engulfed cock, pressing into him and then, eventually, pulling out until the tip remained inside, arms still supporting Ishida under the armpits despite it all with an overwhelming sort of tenderness.

It wasn’t as good as he thought it was going to be, having theoretically been a virgin until this point. Ishida was a nerd, after all, and he expected sex to be amazing and he expected that he’d never have it, ever, until he was well over 20. It was better than he ever thought it was going to be, because Kon actually gave a damn.

Kon moaned loudly, sliding back into Ishida.

“Quiet,” Ishida choked out. “Bite my shoulder.”

The mod-soul did as he was told, mouthing Ishida’s shoulder, scraping lightly with his teeth. There would be a bruise there tomorrow, and Ishida was fairly sure the canines drew blood.

Ishida loved every second of it. Kon pounded him with every bit of the enthusiasm Ishida expected out of something that had waited for more years than he dared to consider, just to be able to feel anything at all. They came minutes later, Ishida finally losing his patience and his control and jerking himself off ineffectually while Kon continued to fuck him happily senseless; Kon finding completion with a Kurosaki-like snarl against Ishida’s sore shoulder.

The only sounds afterwards were Kon’s ragged, thick breathing in the moist air and the steady, comforting drip of water still leaking from the showerhead and flowing into the drain. They stood in a groggy sort of silence, steam curling off of their bodies, still hot and damp in the cooling air. Eventually they parted, Ishida’s back and tailbone red and Kon’s entire body shaking gently.

“Love you, Uryuu,” Kon muttered.

The door opened, hitting the side of the wall with a thud that was entirely too loud to Ishida’s over-sensitized, post-coital hearing. He shook his head, spraying the shower with the last remaining cold water in his limp hair. Kon stilled instantly, panicking, eyes wide and pupils small, like a cornered cat.

“Kon? Is that you in there? I looked everywhere else in the house.”

Kon looked over at Ishida, confused and pained. It hurt Ishida to look at that face. Fucking shinigami.

“What are you doing? You okay? I thought I heard—“

“Who is that—“

Kon remained silent, tears slowly welling up in his eyes, face still frozen into its strange expression.

“Shit.”

“Is that Ishida?”

“So it was fucking Ishida, then.”

“Fucking Ishida fucking Uryuu.”

“I don’t fucking believe it.”

Finally, Ishida had had enough of Kurosaki’s one-sided conversation. Monologues were for those better with words.

“I’m standing right here, Kurosaki,” Ishida hissed.