Umm... Fluff?

[zeffyface]

Disclaimer:I don't own Bleach, nor will I ever get money for such silly drabble-y things.

Also, I credit the idea for this drabble to Akuni. Seriously, if you have never read her fics, leave this page at once and read them. It's a much better use of your time.

Title: Pillow Talk
Author: Zeffyface
Rating: Dunno, Probably PG
Warnings: Futurefic. No spoilers, don’t think.
Pairing: Ichigo n’ Renji
Words: 1750
Note: Pure, unfiltered fluff drabble, people. I should be working on so many things, and instead I get pelted with fluffy Ren Ichi plot bunnies.
Reviews are always lovely; you can tell I need improvement.

Pillow Talk

“M-My apologies sir, but we are unable to open the gate until tomorrow, due to a shift in the temporal…” Ichigo tuned the rest of the hurried explanation out as something he would most likely not understand, eying the stuttering, bowing shinigami through sleepy brown eyes. He brought a hand up to rub through his spiky orange hair, musing over this new information. The messenger continued talking, and the substitute shinigami wondered momentarily if he would need to breathe anytime soon.

“I’m not gonna gut you or anything, you know.” At the startled glance, Ichigo shrugged a shoulder. “You said tomorrow, right?”

“Y-yes sir.”

“Kay then. See you guys tomorrow.” And with that he turned away from the gate, one hand raised in a lazy gesture of farewell.

Sandals clicking across the streets of Seireitei, Ichigo finally released the gaping yawn he had been holding back. The morning was still dark; far too early, he noted, to be awake. Especially when one goes to sleep at four in the morning, he added with a smirk. For his last night in Soul Society there was an impromptu gathering of Ichigo’s Shinigami friends, many of which had seemingly endless supplies of booze. A late nineteenth birthday party, Rukia had called it. He silently thanked whatever resources Ikkaku and Yumichika had at there disposal, for without them spiking each bottle with some magic tonic he would be having a hangover from hell about now.

Ichigo sighed wearily, feet stopping in front of the flat of Abarai Renji. In retrospect, it was probably not the best of ideas to bunk with the object of his indecent fantasies during his vacation. Still, the Vice Captain had been one of Ichigo’s friends, perhaps best friend, for years, and he wasn’t about to push that away because of a few suppressed feelings. They had fought side by side, bickered, laughed, bled, and improved one another; Ichigo could handle containing himself until he received some hint towards the other’s thoughts about moving up a step.

Plus the fringe benefits of watching Renji walk around in only his hakama in the mornings, the muscles of his back appearing and disappearing behind waves of loose crimson hair as he made breakfast, made up for a great many hardships.

Slipping silently into the flat and toeing off his sandals, it struck Ichigo that he had forgotten to say goodbye to Renji before he made to leave. The rest had offered farewells yesterday at the party, before he and Renji had staggered off together, and Ichigo had made a point about leaving as quietly as he could so as to let the other sleep on his day off. He shrugged, placing Zangetsu in the corner. It didn’t really matter with his unexpected delay. Shirking his black robes down to his boxers, he moved across the flat, intent on finding a few extra hours of sleep. Renji could wait until a less painful hour to learn the news.

Arriving at his destination Ichigo paused, then frowned at his futon, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. He ran his hands over the folded covers for a moment, and then crouched down to look at the floor beneath it. “Where…” Brown eyes roved the room curiously. He had misplaced things before, but he could not imagine anywhere he would offhandedly carry a pillow. Every other day it sat at the head of the mattress, just like he made it. Another large yawn overtook his senses, and he gave up with a tired shrug, padding over to the bedroom to steal the extra one off Renji’s bed. It was a well known fact Renji slept heavy after drinking, hangover or no, so he probably would never notice. Rubbing his hand through his mussed spikes of orange, Ichigo eased the door open, providing a small amount of extra light to mix with the dim glow from the window.

For a moment, he simply stared. He then shook his head and looked again, bringing a hand up to his mouth to stifle the exclamation that tried desperately to come out.

Renji had always looked stunning asleep. Lying on his side with a cascade of red hair flowing over the bed; the dark patterns of tattoos on his chest and stomach moving softly with each breath until dipping under the covers– he was a scene Ichigo would risk his pride to sneak a glance at whenever he knew he wouldn’t get caught. What truly captured his attention, however, was his inability to see the tattooed brows on Renji’s face; or any face at all for that matter. Wrapped securely in the muscular arms was a cloth-covered object, one that Renji had apparently buried his entire head into while he slept.

One that, an hour ago Ichigo had left placed on his futon with the matching blue covers.

Abarai Renji, bankai-level vice captain of the sixth squad, had stolen Ichigo’s pillow after he left and fallen asleep cuddling it like a teddy bear.

Ichigo felt a grin spreading beneath his hand, as well as an incoherent pang of jealousy at the pillow as Renji rubbed his face a little farther in the cloth. The sleeping man breathed a soft sigh and rolled over on his back, making his watcher jump slightly before relaxing again. It was then he noticed Renji had temporarily released his hold, leaving the pillow next to his side and a little off. Maybe…

Silently, Ichigo tiptoed across the room and lifted the prized object from the mattress, congratulating himself on his victorious rescue. He stole a look at the peaceful, sleeping face beneath him before backing away, intending to escape quickly. When the morning was not so early he could face Renji awake, and either squash the warmth fluttering in his stomach but find a good laugh and eternal teasing rights or…

But it was not good to get hopes up.

He had nearly reached the door when a soft noise of distress caught his ear. He looked back and raised an eyebrow at the slight furrow in Renji’s tattooed brows. Entranced, he watched the other’s hand futilely searching the spot the pillow previously occupied, pawing the sheets for the missing object. The worry crease between the closed eyes deepened slightly. “Ichi…”

At the faint whisper Ichigo felt something in his chest give a painful jerk, while simultaneously the warm feeling in his stomach multiplied. He looked to the pillow in his hands, and back to Renji, and back again. A little light in his head blinked on, spreading down to shine out in a smile. It was the kind of smile a thief gets a moment before swiping the priceless artifact – one that knew if something went wrong the world would come crashing down, but that the risk was well worth the possible gain. The pillow dropped to the floor with a cushioned poof.

Making his way back over to the bed, Ichigo carefully lay down on his side on the very edge of the mattress, settling his weight slowly so as to not shift and cause rustling. He then inched forward until he nudged the tips of the searching fingers with his bare chest. The result was almost instantaneous. Renji’s palm stilled, then slid under the warm torso as he rolled back, his other arm wrapping around the trim waist and pulling Ichigo closer. Ichigo felt lips brush the base of his neck as Renji nuzzled into his throat, humming contentedly before stilling again. He inhaled, letting the scent of Renji’s hair and the feel of the warm body filter through his system, before letting loose the tired chuckle he simply couldn’t contain any longer.

He could feel Renji through the vibrations in his throat and chest, feel the slight stiffening of surprise. The other’s face pulled back slowly, bleary red eyes staring into sleepy chocolate in total bewilderment. “I-chigo? What…?”

Ichigo felt a blush creeping across his nose, but pointedly ignored it. “Couldn’t sleep in my bed dumbass, you stole all the pillows.” Renji blinked at him, a stray lock of crimson falling over his eyes. Ichigo took that he hadn’t gotten his head beaten in yet as a good sign, searching the other’s face for traces of annoyance or disgust.

“But ya left this mornin…” came the confused, sleep rough voice.

“Gate broke; m’going tomorrow. So…” Ichigo dropped his eyes, clamping down on the blush before it could be visible in the dim room. “You gonna kick my ass, or can I sleep here?”

He felt Renji’s arm unwind from his waist, leaving it cold in its absence. He had prepared to let his heart sink when fingers ran along his jaw line, coaxing his gaze back around to lock on the dark red. Renji pinned him with a searching look for several seconds. Ichigo hesitantly reached out and brushed the strands of hair from the other’s eyes, fingertips lightly caressing the inky lines on his forehead in the process. Renji’s face softened, a lazy shadow of his favorite grin flickering over his mouth. The fingers on Ichigo’s face moved to cradle his chin as Renji shifted forward, barely brushing his lips against the slightly open mouth while watching through half-lidded eyes. Ichigo let out a held breath and felt his own eyes slip closed as the tantalizingly soft lips made a second pass before settling. He leaned forward a little more as Renji tilted his head for a slightly better angle, adding more pressure to the slow dance of mouths and hearing a pleased hum in response. Renji’s lips were impossibly warm, he noted as his hand found its way back to the long, silky hair at the other’s scalp. A thumb rubbed across his jaw, causing a small, happy sound to escape him.

Renji pulled back from the simple kiss, grinning as Ichigo opened his eyes to glare in bleary protest. “Guess you can sleep here.” Removing his hand from Ichigo’s face, he slid the covers out from under the other’s legs and pulled them back overtop, shifting back so Ichigo could share his pillow. Ichigo scooted over and settled himself, one arm draping over Renji’s shoulder to bury in his hair. Renji reclaimed his hold on Ichigo’s waist, briefly nudging the other’s chin with the bridge of his nose as he settled back into the junction of Ichigo’s collarbone. His warm breath murmured against soft skin. “Just make sure ya don’t slip out on me again tomorrow.”

Eyes already closed, Ichigo smiled. “I won’t; promise. Night Ren.”

“Night Ichi.” Together they fell into easy dreams.