Work Text:
She's laying on his back, her cheek between his shoulder blades, her fingers trailing the lines of his new tattoos. they're---they're new. They're odd. She bites and twists her lips as she follows where they slide over his side into the shadow just under his armpit, trying to become familiar with them. They're so new and dark and unfamiliar. She hates that. Hates the idea that something about him has changed that they don't understand.
Zangetsu marked him, but why now? is the question she wants the answer to the most. There are already too many questions that fill their lives, and too many stay unanswered. There are hints in the half finished sentences and aborted looks of the captains, but nobody tell them anything. Even Zangetsu keeps his secrets, Ichigo tells her.
It's frustrating. She blow a breath against his neck. His hair shifts under her breathe.
Everything feels like it's moving too fast and she thinks of all the months back in Soul Society when she wasn't waiting but she watching and then when she was waiting and the captain's looked at her as she stood up for him. They hadn't seemed surprised at her vehemence and even now she feels they half made that confrontation happen just so she would be one saying the words supporting Ichigo instead of one of them.
Why?, is a question that burns.
Sighing, she wiggles and curls her arms under his and around his chest. Ichigo groans, shifts, and his mouth crooks up. He's still closer to sleep than she is.
"Rukia?"
Her lips close over his ear. He moves more to his side and she slides to face him.
"They're weird," she says, fingers touching where the black marks meet in the middle of his chest. She can still feel the scar on his skin, now darken by the tattoos that they looked burned into his skin.
He huffs, breath blowing at her bangs. "Fuck yeah they are, but I dunno, they feel right."
Rukia looks up, his eyes are warm and dark; she licks her lips.
"Still weird," she mumbles, "On you, they're weird."
He pulls her closer, arm around her back. "We'll get used to them." Her hips shift close to him, press against his waist, one leg slides over his hips and he slips a thigh between her legs. He's so warm. One of his hands drifts lazily up and down her spine. Rukia sighs. The leg on his hip tightens, her foot hooks behind his knee.
"Yeah," she murmurs, as Ichigo's mouth touches her jaw and she can feel him getting harder against her thigh.
He's always been tactile in bed, but now since he's been able to see and touch her again, it's like he hates to let go. She understands the sentiment. Outside there are too many questions without answers. At least inside, alone in their bed, they can pretend it's just the two of then with no mysteries between them. (Liar, liar, a part of her whispers. It sounds like the hollow. His. She wonders if Ichigo still hears him, but does not ask. See: liar.)
"Rukia?" Ichigo's other hand joins the one of her back and she feels them drift down to her ass. Her hips move. She presses her groin against his stomach and it's enough for him to know.
She's probably not as wet as she should be, wants to be, but they both drifted to sleep after he went down on her -- he dragged it out, like he likes to when he (misses her) (feels a little to possessive) has the time; her knees over his shoulders, his fingers spreading her wide for his tongue and teeth -- satiated for the moment. The moment has passed. Her thighs feel strained and still a little sticky. She's good, she wants him inside her anyway.
Ichigo groans as they move on the bed, still on their sides, and pushes inside her. Rukia's fingers thread and twist in his hair. He lowers his mouth to her breast as he rolls his hips.
Rukia's moan slips through her mouth, low and happy. She pushes her hips against his. Their rhythm is smooth and slow. Ichigo's still mostly tired and she's… she wants to fuck him like they have all the time in the world. Like there are no questions waiting for them with no answers gives. Her hand move down through his hair and neck, they palm across the black tattoos on his back; her hips cant up. She squeezes her thigh and inner muscles. Ichigo grunts against the hollow of her breasts.
Rukia she feels mouths against her scar.
"Fuck me slow, fuck me slow," Rukia closes her teeth over the shell an ear and then sucks on the lobe.
Ichigo nods against her collarbone and does.
Her orgasm almost comes as surprise; she normally needs more than this slow rhythm, needs his hands and mouth, but his mouth is sucking on her breast just as she likes and press of his pelvic bone against at each roll of their hips is just right.
She clamps her leg down on him, the other stuck between his waist and the bed, and lifts his head to kiss him. It's a wet, messy kiss. She sucks on his tongue like he did on her clit before and she thinks she can taste herself. Ichigo groans into her mouth, she swallows it, bites at his lips, wanting him to come hard and fast like she's about to.
He does. Just before as she does. His thrust a little too hard, making her moan into the kiss as the rush of wetness between her thighs has her body going limp.
Ichigo tenses and then he's liquid. He buries his face in her neck.
Rukia feels exhausted. Odd, part of her thinks, it wasn't one of their more athletic times, but they had been tired before and it had been slow and low.
"It's different."
Ichigo's head comes up. He's still inside her. Her body is still spasming, and she likes feeling him inside her, twitching as he softens.
"Rukia?" He props himself up on one elbow; one hand goes down to the thigh over his hips. He rubs it.
She licks her lips, mirrors his move, and looks to tattoos on his chest. "It's different, isn't it?"
He grins, white teeth flashing in the low lights of his room. Gently he slips out of her. Her muscles ache pleasantly.
"Ya think?"
Rukia touches his chest. "Don't you?"
He sighs, the hand rubbing at her thigh moves up, continues past her hips and waist, trails the edges of her breast and rests at the curve of her neck. His thumb touches her chin.
"You're stronger. I can feel it when I touch you, especially now."
Closing her eyes, Rukia lowers her head to his pillow. His hand doesn't move. Their legs untangle and rearrange.
"You too," she says, not opening her eyes, "You too. I didn't know you could be."
It's just another question. Rukia feels so exhausted.
When his lips touch hers, so gently, almost too gently for Ichigo, her eyes snap open and she arches a brow at him.
"I'm not going to worry about it now."
"Ichigo."
"Rukia," he says in the same tone. He lowers his head back on the pillow next to her, smiles cockily, then flips to his back. "There's a lot of stuff we still don't know, but it's okay." His eyes slide to her. "You're here, I'm here and that's already better than it was. We'll figure it out."
Blinking, Rukia shakes her head and smiles. "You like saying 'we'." Moving closer, she lays a hand on his chest and tucks her head under his chin. She's missed sleeping with him; just sleeping and feeling the press of his body against her.
His arm goes around her waist, holding her close. Ichigo's voice is sleepy and low when she hears, "I guess I do."
She likes it too.