Of Fries and Napkins

This story is in Ichigo's point of view.

Rukia and I we're something different, yet nothing new. We like to do nothing, but could do anything. She likes to run outside and out to the park, falling back onto the lush grass and gazing up at the sky; I I just like being home, falling back onto my pillow and staring at my ceiling. Sometimes we like to meet halfway.

My door slammed shut behind me, my whole being shivering from the cold and exhaustion, my eyes immediately falling into place in a glare. "Oi, Rukia!" The petite woman was lying on my bed as she read, her small feet propped up on the wall, her slim, firm body in a tight sundress across the width of my bed, her black tresses cascading down over the edge. Arching her back, the neckline of her dress exposing a teasing glimpse of her modest chest, the hem along her thighs sliding further down to show off her firm legs, Rukia's violet eyes moved from the worn pages of the novel she held, an elegant brow raised in question; "Hm?" I growled lowly, dropping my bookbag; "What the hell are you doing on my bed?" She rolled her damn eyes at me. "I'm reading- you blind imbecile." With that, her violet eyes I could never seem to grow tired of moved back onto the pages, a soft sigh escaping her lips. My amber eyes moved to the window. It was raining outside, an angry downpour threatening to break the glass; following her small toes down to her thighs, over her stomach and chest to her face I could see her eyes and lips in a small frown, her reiatsu low and bothered. That sundress was not meant for a rainy day. I sighed along with her silent moping, finally making my way further into my room, tearing off my shirt to leave my torso bare. I ran a hand through my damp hair, cracking my neck with a satisfied groan.

I moved to my desk, unraveling the cord wrapped around the compact fan on the desk, plugging it in; I eyed the general direction it faced before I turned it on to low, a small breeze now running over Rukia's form, her dress ruffling ever so slightly a small smile pulling at her lips. Dropping down onto the mattress, I rested beside her, my orange mane teasing the skin of her thigh beside me, her clean, kept nails picking at the seam of my jeans tight around my thigh, her other hand gently resting the novel on her stomach. Closing her eyes, she imagined the sun pouring down onto her, the fan's breeze running over her skin; my eyes on the ceiling, I closed my eyes to imagine her laying in the sun's warm touch.

Rukia and I talk- a lot. It is mainly from her effort. She likes to tell me what to do and make me listen. I like to pretend I don't listen and keep quiet. She thinks I'm being rude, but really, I just stay quiet to keep her talking. Of course, I need to throw a couple insults of my own to keep her from growing suspicious. She is bold and crazy, I'll admit, but she has her tender, shy moments and words of heart. I am quiet and a bit more reserved, but open when the time comes. Sometimes we like to meet halfway.

Blood poured from the large gash across my stomach, my tired body leaning against the brick wall, my pants heavy and forced, my heart thundering beneath my chest. "Ichigo, you damn idiot! I told you I had it!" She came into my blurred view, my hand tight around Zangetsu's tang, my head hung low; I suddenly felt her body against mine, her small fists clutching the black, bloodied material of my robes, her angry, violet eyes looking up at me. "Ichigo! You you could have been killed-!" "I couldn't let it hurt you, midget." My voice barely carried over to her, her violet eyes conflicted with emotions I couldn't understand, but her surprised reiatsu told enough- this wasn't like me. She frowned, still looking up at me, her body against me; "I think you're losing too much blood."

Pulling away, she tugged my kosode lose from my hakama and hakama-himo, pushing my robe open, my deep gash exposed; I growled at her grimace, grabbing onto her wrist. "A simple 'thank you' will do; now get me to Inoue." She was looking at me with a glare, frowning as she tore her wrist from me, taking a single step away from me. As I managed to push off the wall, her warm hands pressed against my chest, pushing me back against it, her body a step closer to mine; "What the hell-?" "Shut up, Ichigo." Staring at one another, silent aside from my heavy breathing, she was the first to move- sliding her hands down my chest and abs, hovering over my gash. She whispered words I didn't hear, a soft glow covering her hands, a warmth covering my wound. I was mesmerized by the way her eyes' violet hues curled and danced with the golden glow reflected in them, the pain fading away from my mind, her hands moving closer to my wound. I stood there, leaning against the brick wall, her shorter body in front of me. I wrapped my arm around over her shoulder and behind her neck, our reiatsu calm and steady as I kept her in front of me, near me, her eyes on my wound barely ceasing to bleed. I knew we'd be here a while, her healing kido different from Inoue's ability; "You should know by now, that I don't like anything happening to you, if I have any say in it." It wasn't like me to be open right now. I could have just stayed silent, I could have just let her lecture me. Her eyes moved up to meet mine; "I know, Ichigo." It wasn't like her to not have much to say at a time like this. So we smirked, and balanced it outI said less, she said more. "Idiot." "Rash, hot-headed imbecile."

Rukia and I are different pieces of different puzzles that just fit. She is short as hell, hence my loving pet name midget; I I am tall. Extremely tall compared to the demonic squirt. Her body is soft and curved, small and graceful. I am rough and muscled, large and reckless; I know how to hold her, though, when she is injured. We just never mention it.

Our hair and eyes balance each other out. My mane is loud and wild, while Rukia's is dark and hardly a mess. My amber eyes can turn brown; her violet eyes can seem blue. We both agree that these colors mixed together would make us vomit. Rukia and I are books. Both of us are closed to other eyes; both of us can fall open when we bump into each other. She likes to close me when others come close to us, when they intrude. I I like to analyze her like sonnets and plays, letting her open and close me as she wishes, as long as it means I can glimpse between the lines within her pages. We eat the same food but it's different. I like to eat burgers and Yuzu's cooking. Rukia likes to eat fries and the food she helped Yuzu prepare. I hate ketchup; she can sleep in a tub of ketchup. I enjoy tea and Coke; Rukia enjoys juice and Pepsi. Sometimes we like to meet halfway.

We sat in the center's food court, Inoue and Tatsuki across the table, Chad on my left with Rukia on my right, Keigo and Ishida on either end of the rectangular table. "Kurosaki-kun, you're burger looks so big!" Inoue's loud, high voice rang out, my eye twitching; "Yeah, I guess." I looked over to Rukia, her small hands unwrapping her food. I have the Bacon and Onion Rings burger from Mac-Do. She has the Onion Rings and Bacon from Burger King. Both serve Coke. She had dragged me to find a vending machine with Pepsi. "Oi, make sure you finish the whole thing. I didn't pay more for the same damn burger, just to have you wimp out!" Glaring at me menacingly, she simply crossed her arms across her chest, clothed in a v-neck that could only compliment her modest breasts; "Bite me."

We never remembered others around us when we were together. Well, not never, but close enough. I hardly ever notice Inoue's uncomfortable look around us; maybe as does everyone else, since we continue eating in a comfortable silence. Rukia is eating her fries. And mine; both trays of fries are actually now drenched in ketchup. I I am eating my burger, and watching her eat my fries. The only fry seemingly not covered in ketchup is caught between her index and thumb, her hand lazily curving up to bring it to her mouth. Ishida decides to ask her a question, her hand pausing just before her tempting lips, her chin then turned away to answer Ishida. I grab her wrist, bringing her hand towards me, enclosing the fry and the tips of her fingers with my hot mouth. I licked her fingers just for the hell of it. "Ichigo!" She pulled her hand from my lips hurriedly, her eyes wide and angry, smacking my hand. I had already finished enjoying the fry, with the faint taste of her skin. We didn't notice everyone else chuckling and, in Inoue's case, blushing. "Those were mine!" The fry had come from the fries on my tray. I shrugged, biting into my burger. She huffed, punching my arm and looking away from me. Rukia was surprisingly very demanding of my attention most of the time; so I decided to ignore her, continuing with my burger. A minute later, the others chatting lightly, Rukia looks back at me. She can't stand it when I don't argue back or scream at her for abusing me. I pretend to be interested in the napkins as I slowly chewed my food. She snatched them away and tore them up. I laughed lightly, the others confused by the many pieces of napkin now piled up in front of her, violently torn up. Without a word, I stood up and went to the small ice cream stand. I came back with a waffle bowl of vanilla ice cream with a cherry.

Rukia likes strawberry ice cream and kiwi. I I like chocolate ice cream and bananas. We both like vanilla. I know she likes the cherry more than I do. We finished the ice cream within minutes, our burgers left forgotten.

Rukia and I are different in age and knowledge, but somehow, we met at just the right time. Since I've met her, I changed without really changing. Grew a bit, my face losing the boyish edge I had for a smooth, strong jaw, my hair growing long enough to tease my eyes at times, my muscles defined. Rukia changed without really changing, either. She stayed short as hell, but her eyes and lips softened over time, a smile on her lips every now and then; her hair bounced about more often, her body never gaining weight, but still managing to curve in all the right places. She had missed out on a lot as a human and never learned as a noble. I haven't met the right girl to make sure I don't miss out on a lot and am learning as any other person. We couldn't help but meet halfway.

My idiot son, I have a medical conference this weekend. I let Karin and Yuzu stay at their friends. Yuzu left you and Rukia-chan food prepared in the fridge. Don't destroy my house! I rolled my amber eyes, swiping the note off the fridge. I caught one last note towards the bottom of the page: P.S. I better have grandchildren waiting for me. I easily crumpled it. Rukia and I spent the rest of our Friday lying about the house in the laziest of ways. We watched television on the couch, ate food at the counter, even hung out a bit on the stairs, too damn tired to reach the top.

We probably would have never gone to my room if the Hollow hadn't shown up some blocks away. Since we were up and about, we decided we might as well head upstairs. It was a summer night and it sure felt like it. I stripped my bed of the blankets and sheets, leaving it bare. Peeling off my shirt, I tossed it aside, dropping down onto my mattress, landing on my stomach. Damn, it felt good. So good, I didn't bother turning when I heard Rukia slam the closet door open, her hot, bothered body sitting in her make-shift bed, glaring at me. Had I turned, I wouldn't have missed so much time of being able to see her in skin-tight shorts dangerously high on her thighs and low on her hips, her tank hugging her torso, sweat between her breasts and along her collarbone. It was a few minutes later that I felt her climb over me on the bed, the fan turned on before she had joined me. I felt her drop onto the mattress beside me, a sigh leaving her, the fan running a shiver over my spine as my hot, sweaty skin met the breeze it blew over us. I eventually bothered to look at her, stopping short with a blush; she had shamelessly stripped of her shirt, clad in her teasing shorts and beige bra. She lay with her eyes closed contently, resting on her back, her legs bent with her ankles near her round, firm rear, her arms sprawled out above her head on my bare mattress. Fuckin' midget. "Quit staring at me, Ichigo." She hadn't moved at all, nor had she opened her eyes. How the hell did she know? I guess my stare was just that intense. How could it not be? I was surprised at my confident, forward response; "I stare if I want, especially with you testing my limits like that." It was then she opened her violet eyes and cocked her head enough to look at me. Then, it was then that I felt myself become erected. Dangerous limits indeed. She rolled onto her side, her arm out-stretched as she rested her head on it, her other arm casually molded against her side, her hand resting on her hip.

Laying there on her side, her curves were ridiculously defined. I remained on my stomach, my erection painfully smashed between myself and the mattress. Her expression was difficult to read, but I felt her reiatsu tell all. She drummed her fingers along her hip; "I didn't know there were any limits to test, here." This could very well be a stupid stunt with the stupid excuse of the heat. But the thing is. Rukia and I tend to think and feel the same. She is a noble sick of following orders and a bold, wild spirit at heart. I I am just a guy more than willing to encourage her to take leaps with me. We also trust each other.

I pushed my body off the mattress, on my knees beside her, our eyes locked; slow and cautiously, I leaned over her, my arms on either side of her shoulders, her arms still out-stretched above her head. No sudden punching or kicking. Good; we're still thinking the same. I swung a leg over her, my knees against either side of her hips, my abdomen tight with holy shit nerves, her violet eyes nearly paralyzing me. I held my breath as she slowly moved her arms. Her hands found my wrists, running up along my forearms, over my biceps to my shoulders; dragging her nails lightly along my skin, sending a violent shudder through me, she now ran them down my sides as far as she could reach. I think I breathed in again at one point. Her fingers moved to my sculpted abdomen, pushing her palms flat against me, running up to my chest. Was I breathing? Maybe. Rukia and I talk- a lot. It is mainly from her effort. She likes to tell me what to do and make me listen. May a Hollow eat me alive were I to do anything but listen to her right now.

A dangerous, alluring look suddenly flashed in her eyes, a gasp impossible to hold back as she thrust her hips just as suddenly against my own, my erection teased; "Touch me!" I growled with irritation as she drew her hips away, my arm snaking around her hips before they fell back onto the mattress. I had no shame when I boldly curved my hand to her firm end, pushing her hips back against mine, a delicious ah-h! leaving her lips. Rukia was surprisingly very demanding of my attention most of the time. I reluctantly let go of her and sat back up on my knees, my hands moving to my belt buckle, beginning to undo it; I hadn't even managed to loosen my belt when she sat up and grabbed fistfuls of my hair, pulling me down. We met halfway in a kiss. Rukia's lips are soft and slightly plump. Mine mine were the right texture of rough. She pulled us back down onto the mattress, my hands abandoning my belt buckle to hold me up over her, slowly lowering myself onto my elbows, keeping my weight off her. She nipped at my upper lip, my tongue pushing out to run along her lower lip; with a moan, she parted her lips for me, our tongues pushing out to meet each other halfway. Rukia and I are both stubborn, but I've realized that I thoroughly enjoy winning against her. So, pulled back from our kiss with a small smack of our lips, keeping my mouth against hers, my hand quickly slipping between our pelvises, palming her hot, damp, clothed sex. That's right- moan for me, Rukia. I locked our mouths together, her open moan surrendering her mouth to my pleasure, my tongue immediately exploring her. Her small hands clutched my belt, pulling us together, my hand still between her legs. As stubborn as we are, we are also impatient. The rare moments she lets that show for her don't always work to my benefit, but I have to definitely appreciate it this time. Nearly growling, Rukia moved a hand to grab mine against her, between her legs, pulling it away.

I didn't have a chance to voice my protest, her small hand quickly shoving mine under her thin shorts I've come to realize as her underwear to feel her bare, hot, wet arousal; "Ichi-!" "F-fuck-!" I didn't need her to tell me. Her hand abandoning mine to unbuckle my belt, I slid my finger down her folds, her hands managing to slide my belt off, hands shaking as she bit back a loud moan as I fingered the tight opening of her core. Rukia and I are different pieces of different puzzles that just fit. Her skin is smooth and soft. Mine my skin was lightly roughed up a bit. She cried out as I ran my finger between her labia, following it up to her clitoris, pressing the hard nub between my thumb and finger. She writhed erotically beneath me, her back arched to push herself further against me, her hands clutching my pants, unbuttoned and low on my hips. She pushed against my chest, rolling us over, my sweating back on the bare mattress. I let her. She slid her hand under her shorts to grab mine again, moving me further down, pushing my mid finger into her. Moans left us both, her legs straddling me now, a small hand on my chest as she held herself up, my hand between her and my pelvis. She pushed her hips down on my finger, grinding them against my hand and body, both of us shuddering violently, my eyes on her panting form above me. "Ru-kia-!" I couldn't take the pressure of my erection, and I could feel she didn't have enough satisfaction from my finger caressing her inner walls. Rukia and I tend to think and feel the same. She lifted her hips for me slide my finger out from her and her shorts, my hands ripping the thin material off as she pulled at my pants and boxers down, my erection throbbing for release, her thighs wet from her excitement. She curled her hand around the base of my erect sex, slowly stroking it as my hands rubbed her damp, inner thighs. "I-Ichigo." My name rolled off her tongue, my hands curling around her legs to cup her rear, spreading her cheeks. We can tell what the other is doing before we know it ourselves.

Holding my sex still, Rukia pushed herself down onto me, my hips bucking up to bury myself further inside her, both our cries laced with moans, our breath heavy and shallow, Rukia biting her lip at the pain tearing through her.. Gripping her hips, sure to bruise her, I held her down while she slowly rolled her hips against mine, Rukia moaning as the pain she felt began to fade, her hands on my chest. Digging her nails into me, our eyes locked, she lifted her hips a bit, pushing herself back down on my sex. I couldn't take much more of her above me, moaning deeply as she pulled back up to push herself down again, my erected penis within her surrounded by her soaked arousal; I rolled us over with Rukia beneath me, her legs locked around my slim hips, my pants down on my thighs. "Ichi-go!" I just couldn't hold back. I gripped her hips as I raised them, her round bottom curves fitted perfectly against the dips between my pelvis and thighs, my legs holding her up. Pulling back, my hands keeping her in place, I thrust into her, groaning at the dangerous roll of her hips to meet my thrust against her; leaning over her, her hips in place, my hand rested by her shoulder, the other gripping her hip tightly. She wrapped her long legs around my hips, pushing me against her. All I needed.

Sweat covered us, our skin smacking against each other with every thrust I made into her, Rukia panting and moaning, gasping and taking me on fully, meeting my thrusts halfway. I was kneeling with her hips resting on my thighs, my hands gripping them, bruising them as I took her. I couldn't take my eyes off her, her abdomen tight and firm, her legs wide and taking all I had to give her, her hands above her head, trying to grip the mattress. My eyes found her modest breasts, her bra keeping them from moving freely with every thrust I gave her, her areolas just visible above the hems, my thrusts growing faster and harder to force more of her breasts out from her bra. "A-ah-! Ichigo, keep going!" I decided to still thrust as hard and as fast I was, but ridding of her bra all together to have her breasts in my sight.

I struggled to undo her bra with a single hand, my other one keeping her in place, Rukia simply taking it off herself. They were perfect, moving with every thrust I shoved against her, her nipples hard and erect. She gripped my wrists, pulling my hands from her hips- and onto her breasts. Cupping them, kneading them as I continued to take her, our moans loud and heavy, I didn't last long after; coming to a paralyzing end within her, my release mixing with Rukia's within her, my shinigami climaxing with me. "R-Rukia!" "Oh-h-!" We're pieces of different puzzles, Rukia and I. We just fit, somehow. I collapsed onto my side, pulling her with me to rest on hers, our hips tight and molded against each other, my arms holding her close to me. Her heart was beating violently beneath her breast against my chest, my own heart pounding, our pants long and heavy, hair damp and messed. I closed my eyes, biting back a moan as she moved against me, her lips moving to my ear; "Ichigo." I felt it then, when her hand pressed up on my chest above my heart, her leg swung over my hip, hugging our bodies close; I felt that feeling I hadn't felt before, and couldn't quite describe it. Looking at her, I know she was feeling it, too.

Rukia and I like to do nothing. We lay there that night, too lazy to move, too comfortable to bother. We talk a lot, but that night, we didn't need to say anything to know what we wanted to say. I hate ketchup, while she nearly moans with every taste. Anything that holds my attention, instead of her, she quickly gets rid of. Napkins usually ran low in our house. Rukia and I are different in age and knowledge, but that night, we were both growing up and learning each other's body and soul. I can't get enough of how our different skin texture feels so damn good against each other. She will always stay short as hell, by the way, just as I will keep on watching her eat my fries before she eats hers.

We we always meet each other halfway. Somehow. Always.