Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

AN: Been awhile since I updated this one. I'm diehard Ichiruki ya know? Enjoy.

Rated: T for language- the continuation w/h M content.

Word Count: 2735

Summary: He won't tell her 'no'. He's not controlling- and he's not her man for that matter. If she wants the human experience- then why not let her date a classmate? Maybe because he's not fond of torture?

Satiate

Take it Like a Man

Part One

888

It was cute when she had put her hands to her hips and declared she, too, would go to college. It was even cuter when he said 'hell no' and she had huffed and puffed, but followed him to school one day anyway…

Wasn't that some sort of fairy tale- nursery rhyme?

What wasn't so cute was when she actually joined classes (he had no problem with her getting an education, honestly)… Joined classes and made college friends- young women who encouraged her to dress like a young woman.

And people noticed. Men noticed. They noticed the well-fitted skinny jeans, the wedge-sandals, the skirts (and certainly the long, toned stems beneath)… But Rukia was still Rukia and she managed to sneak something cute into her new attire- a Chappy print tank, a bunny-head purse, etc… But damned if others didn't notice it and find it as endearing as he did! She was becoming something of the college's darling…

It was really the worst.

They flocked to her to gush and while she didn't really understand others fascination with her she graciously accepted the masses (ugh, how noble of her).

His scowls could only deter so many. And it was becoming increasingly hard to intimidate those vying for her attention when he found himself taking classes on an opposite side of the campus.

And then it happened…

The thing that took the cake…

Well- she wasn't his cake- she wasn't anything but a friend- a close friend, but still…

Certainly he didn't just admit that his sudden anger- the foul mood that roiled around him like a dark aura- had anything to do with the fact that she'd been asked out…

How ridiculous! Rukia could do whatever the hell she wanted! So what if the guy was good looking and what many might call a 'big man on campus'? Wasn't it just lucky for her- he was popular, held a high grade point average, and was naturally athletic- soccer, baseball- kendo- for the love of kami! He was even likable. Ichigo himself had crossed the young man's path and couldn't deny that he was approachable.

When Rukia had told him- a little curious frown on her face as though she couldn't understand why the boy had asked her out- he immediately went on the defensive. Scoffing and teasing- ribbing her about how weird the guy was for having a quote: "…thing for midget lolis."

Oh, she had not liked that, and he had born the mark of her slap for at least a day… His shin was probably permanently indented.

He'd hid after that- pathetic but true. He'd shut himself up in his room to brood. Excuses like homework and guitar practice only made his sisters, who'd try to coax him out, cast knowing glances.

It was times like these when he really wished he would have elected to stay in a dorm or a frat.

But he'd convinced himself that Rukia had nothing to do with his grouchiness. He'd talked himself out of any thoughts that betrayed some sort of feeling toward the woman other than friendship.

Jealousy- pfft!

Bravely he'd descended the stairs that evening for her unveiling and felt a stone lodge in his throat at the same time as a warmth filled his chest upon the sight of her.

He couldn't help but gaze at her fondly. The spaghetti strap white sundress was bohemian in style, gathered beneath the bust and flaring out with a pattern of blue flowers that intensified her jewel-toned gaze. Silver bracelets adorned her tiny wrists and her hair was swept back from her face so that he could see the tiny diamonds in each lobe and the silver cuff that glinted high on her right ear.

Yet when he recalled why she looked so stunning that stone in his throat would not budge and it made him feel rather ill.

Still, he'd offered a smirk, folding his arms over his chest, "Good luck…"

She'd smiled, tossed her hair with one hand, the other fisting a royal blue clutch, "Who needs luck?"

Again he tried to swallow and distinctly felt the burn of bile as he watched her walk toward the door.

Now, a couple hours later, he'd dropped the mask of indifference. Pacing about, having this Friday night to himself in an empty house, he contemplated horrible things.

All the dirty- raunchy things he thought up with Rukia as the star- would that kid think about them too? Did he dress her up and dress her down in his mind so that the image of her oozed: sex kitten? Was he just as helpless against his imagination- did he too see her on her knees, plump lips parted and glossy, lavender eyes wide and wet with tears as she sniffled…? Usually she cried because she'd fallen, or cut her finger and she wanted him to treat and comfort her…completely unconscious of how far her skirt had ridden up on her gorgeous legs or that her nightgown didn't cover her panties…

Gods! When he was younger he'd only stared at her with admiration, but later in his teens he woke from fevered fantasies and his mind became muddled with less-than-innocent scenarios involving his one-time mentor. Now, a young adult, his imagination wandered so far past kinky these days.

The window over the sink showed the red in his face when he stopped glaring into the street beyond and chanced a look at his reflection.

"Fuck." Ichigo hissed, finally realizing how constricted he felt.

Turning on the sink he let the cold water cascade over his hands to attempt to lower his temperature. Breathing deeply he closed his eyes, trying not to press his front into the cabinetry. When he felt the burn in his face easing he shut off the tap and drew back from the counter. His wet hands dove into his hair, he pulled tight until there was notable pain in his scalp. He had to stop thinking! The window cast his anguished gaze back at him.

When his phone buzzed obnoxiously on the counter he visibly startled. Quickly he retrieved it, feeling a bit relieved when the display didn't advertise her name. Well, perhaps a small part of him was disappointed, but…

"Yo, Chad," He answered, hoping he didn't sound as fraught with anxiety and tired as he felt, "What's up?"

With only a few words his best friend had offered up an appealing solution.

"Yeah. Meet you in five."

A couple hours of just random playing at the warehouse was perfect. He bolted up the stairs to grab his guitar.

…

He was home close to midnight and a little inebriated if truth be told.

When he arrived she was home and he stood silently just inside the front doorway for a time, worried about what might come to light.

With a deep breath he'd steeled himself and set his guitar case down.

"Hey." He said in passing, making his way into the kitchen. The TV was on- one of the cop dramas they both liked playing kinda loudly.

He needed some water. He flipped the kitchen light on and carefully maneuvered around the kitchen table- not wanting to give away the fact that he'd probably had too much Sapporo.

Somehow he'd managed to get a glass down from the cupboard and started to rifle around the refrigerator. Water might help clear his head, but he was hoping his father might have left a little something alcoholic in the fridge.

When she came to stand, one shoulder leaning against the doorframe he gave up his fruitless search and wandered back toward the sink.

"How'd it go with- guy- ugh- whatever his name is…?" He tried to sound as casual, yet uninterested as possible as he fumbled with the faucet handle.

"Keiji-san." She reminded, a smirk to her voice.

He glared at the water rushing from the spout. Wasn't that the guy's first name? Seriously?

"Yeah- sure… So…" He shrugged, shoving his cup beneath the flow.

He tried not to observe her from the corner of his eye as she hopped onto the counter to grab a box of sugary cereal from the cabinet. His cup overflowed several times, but he barely felt the wetness sluicing over his hand.

"Well enough." She replied between a handful of cereal. Soon enough she was brushing off her hands and replacing the box.

As she slid down from the counter her dress seemed to settle in slow motion against her thighs.

Ichigo quickly shut off the tap and downed the water in his glass, staring intently at himself.

He had to catch his breath after gulping so fast and his hand shook around his cup. Still he managed, "Yeah?"

"Yes… Keiji-san is very nice. He's a kendo champion you know…" Rukia nodded, gripping the countertop behind her as she leaned back against it.

Bet Big-Brother-Byakuya would love that. Ichigo helplessly snorted. Rolling his eyes he muttered, "How humble of him to mention."

Rukia's dark brows furrowed, "He didn't mention it. I found out beforehand."

He cocked a brow at this and tossed her a look, "You researched him?"

She gave a shrug, "The girls said that I couldn't go in blind- I had to know something to get the bat spinning. "

"The ball rolling." Ichigo corrected dryly.

"Right." The woman lifted her chin haughtily.

Another snort escaped and Ichigo pressed, "So did it? Get the ball rolling?"

He watched once again from the corner of his eye as her lips turned down in a small frown, "I guess so…"

"You guess so?" He mocked, finally turning to, himself, lean back against the counter.

"Well, he did kiss me…" She said, in an almost musing tone.

Following this the sound of shattering glass echoed through the kitchen. She gasped and turned to see the shards of clear glass on the floor, the remnants of the cup in Ichigo's hands and the red of his blood.

There was a long pause, an incredible silence.

Then they almost seemed to collide, her rushing forward and him taking a decisive step toward her. But before she could scold him his left hand was on her jaw, pinching so that her cheeks squished and her lovely mouth puckered.

"Where?" His eyes were molten chocolate, beautiful and burning almost red. She thought of the deep red cake she loved. Cashmere cake- or was it something about silk? Velvet-

"Where did he kiss you?" His voice was a threatening growl, low and somehow seductive.

She was so stunned by him, his words, his actions she replied without hesitation, "On da wips."

His brows drew further inward, his eyes narrowing as he flashed his teeth in a snarl. His canines had always been a bit prominent, but she couldn't help but really notice them now. But there was only a moment to admire them as suddenly his hot mouth was slanted against her own and she could only utter a surprised sound against it.

There was nothing she could do- no way to escape the pressure of his lips or the ravishing of his tongue. Her hands trembled where they fisted in his shirt at his chest and the sleeve of his bicep.

There was blood seeping into her white dress where Ichigo's hand dug into the fabric at her side as he clutched her to him with a desperation she marveled at. She didn't really feel the sting of the shards, because…

He kissed her like a man possessed, bent over her, forcing her head back gripping her still by the chin. Such a kiss made her thighs tense and an ache bloom between them.

When he had bit down on her lip intentionally hard he'd known he'd really lost some form of control. He realized how animalistic all his thoughts had been in those moments:

Take her. Mark her. Erase the other's trace! She must know she's yours!

Their faces were still close, but he had stopped kissing her. His spine grew rigid as he whipped up and drew back.

"Fuck." He breathed out, a trembling and still crimson-dripping hand coming up to press against his forehead.

He retreated- rushing into the living room without another word. He stumbled, dizzy. Instead of heading to his room he sank down onto the sofa, swallowing back the nausea.

What did I do…? What the fuck did I just do to Rukia? His heart was thrashing beneath his ribs, elation, adrenaline, even fear filling him.

He stiffened when he felt the cushion shift slightly under her weight as she sat down at his side.

"Idiot." She murmured, keeping her eyes on the towel she wrapped around his hand, "What are you thinking dripping blood everywhere?"

Ichigo said nothing as he watched her carefully clear blood away. His hand began to tingle when she started to use kido to pull shards from his skin. His eyes trailed to her lips as she mouthed the spell, her hand glowing over his, summoning the glass from his palm and crumbling it into nothing with her power. He quickly looked back down, cheeks reddening once again as he berated himself for attacking her. He looked at his other hand clamped on his knee and realized for a moment he had tried to catch some of the trickling blood immediately after it happened.

Out of the corner of his eye he could not help but note his blood was still smeared on her chin, a small spot staining her lower lip.

Unconsciously he licked his own lips. Some sweetness clung to his tongue. Had she eaten dessert with… that guy? Had he too sucked her tongue only to taste remnants of some sugary confection? His stomach twisted.

Rukia made a sound and he realized he had pulled away from her.

"You'll need to bandage it yourself then!" She said defensively balling the tea towel in her fists.

The young man only nodded, still avoiding her. She sighed, feeling the cold prickle of rejection that she had not invited, worming into her chest.

Why had he kissed her? Why had he seemed so frantic to hold her, hot and tight, only to suddenly act as though he craved distance?

But Ichigo was oblivious to the slightly hurt look that crossed her features, too caught up in his own circling thoughts.

This is crazy… I can't be doing this. A couple spank-bank fantasies- is whatever- but to grab at her… She can't be mine. Doesn't want to be…

With that gut-wrenching thought echoing in his mind he put his uninjured hand to his head and lumbered to his feet. When the shinigami saw him sway she leapt to her feet to press her hands to his torso to steady him.

He looked down at her and his eyes were glazed. The alcohol had really caught up with him now.

His lip curled slightly and he watched as his hand came up to caress her cheek. He leaned down a bit, his voice a slightly slurred whisper, "Careful now… Don't wanna tempt me to do somethin your new boyfriend wouldn't like."

Shocked, Rukia could form no words as she stared up at the boy. She was rooted to her spot, her hands suddenly touching air as he brushed past.

He mounted the stairs, she heard him trip and curse once, but didn't turn to watch him. Eventually the sound of his heavy footsteps was no more and the house grew eerily silent.

She dropped onto the sofa once more as she replayed her entire evening up until the last few moments.

Rose-color infused her cheeks as she recalled the most memorable points of the night. She couldn't believe she had been kissed- twice- and by two very different men.

But truly, there was only one pair of lips that thrilled her, made her feel lost and giddy all at one time.

Had it just been some strange territorial display- did male friends just do such things- even though they had no romantic intentions? But then she'd also tasted hints of malt… That sneaking pain crept on her again. Men were impulsive and silly when drunk…

Why…

At some point she curled up on her side on the couch, clutching her lower lip between her teeth to keep from whimpering as a few hot tears streaked from her eyes and down her face.

Stupid Ichigo.

AN: Well that got angsty… But you know it's not the end…