Set between the time Urahara probably found them and current time in the manga.

I do not own Bleach.

"This is quite the surprise," he says, startling her. "To think you, of all people, would be coming onto me."

She retracts her hand, face burning at being caught. She had assumed he'd been asleep, and through all her curiosity had allowed herself to touch him. Her thoughts had gotten away from her, and she'd found herself sliding her hand up his chest, muscles still so prominent underneath his shirt.

It's dark in the cave they'd chosen to sleep in tonight, and across the way the humans slept soundly, none the wiser. Doing this, here, is entirely too risky. She should have thought through her actions more.

"I'm not," she mutters, but feels her faulty explanation die on her tongue when he shifts to look at her over his shoulder.

"Wanna fool around?"

.x.

Nothing is as she expects it.

He pins her to the wall of a different cave and presses his forehead against hers, slides a hand between their bodies and under the waistband of her shorts and wastes no time stroking and rubbing and finally curling a finger inside of her. He grins when she gasps, but he doesn't tease her, doesn't mock her. He tunes into every noise she makes and repeats something if her hips jerk just the right way. Her knees become weak and her toes curl and her vision becomes spotty and he whispers, "That's it," in her ear.

He doesn't rush anything. He tugs her shorts down her thighs but does not force her down with them, pushes her back up when she begins to follow. His lips press to her thigh and then her hip, he sucks softly, and then shifts his attention to more pressing matters. He laps at her, sinks two fingers inside and trails his tongue in after them. Her hand finds his hair and he makes a noise, approving, and she is utterly thrown off by the situation entirely.

He does not stop pleasuring her until his name tears its way out from her throat. He licks his fingers clean and tugs her down. She nearly collapses against him.

"Wanna be on top?" he asks, gathering her up with on arm and unzipping his shirt with the other.

Her face colored. "Whatever suits you best," she mumbles, pushing his jacket off his shoulders.

He shrugs them both off, letting go of her only to toss them in the direction he'd left her shorts. "Feeling up to doing a lot of work? Or would you like for me to keep...servicing you?"

"Don't say it like that," she mutters, frowning.

He wraps his other arm around her and pulls her into him, sitting back with his legs on either side of her. His teeth catch her earlobe and tug lightly. "Well?"

Perhaps it has to do with her pride, but she feels as if he's had far too much control up until now. And so she climbs onto his lap. "I'll be on top. Take off your pants."

He doesn't completely take them off, just like she doesn't completely take her top off. They both only push and fold until the important parts are free. "That," he comments as he touches her armband, "is fucking important."

She bristles, moving onto her knees. "This situation aside entirely, do you prefer this form over the last?"

He hardly bats a lash. "Yes."

When she sinks herself down onto him, they both have to stop to catch their breaths. Her hands clutch at his shoulders and his face nestles against her throat, one hand spanning her back and the other curled tight around her hip. He throbs within her, hardening further. Her lashes flutter against her cheekbones, mouth opening wordlessly.

"Fuck," he mutters against her skin. "Move already, I'm losing my mind."

"Be on top," she says and he scoffs around a laugh. She blushes again. "Don't make fun of me, you made the offer yourself before."

He holds onto her firmly and twists, dipping her slowly until she lies on her back and he hovers over her. His hands slide up and down and up and down her thighs, bowing over her. "You're quite a sight," he says, one hand continuing up until he cups her breast, thumb rolling over her nipple, and then skipping up to brace himself on the ground beside her face. His other hand grabs hold of her hip as he begins to slowly rock his.

"As are you," she replies, brushing the very tips of her fingers down his chest. He shivers, moves onto his elbow, and takes her ear back into his mouth. His other hand pushes underneath her, shifts them both until her legs hook over his hips. His movements even out, hips rolling into her, grinding, learning her. She slides a hand up his back and turns her head to meet him midway, returns his kiss with fervor, and his pace quickens.

His tongue curls with hers and she thinks she can taste herself, whines into the kiss when he presses in close to her, chests flush together. She braids her fingers through his hair and smiles into the kiss.

"Turned on?" he asks, grins again when she huffs. His breaths are choppy now, and every noise she makes he returns, just underneath his breath. She only hears them when he presses their cheeks together, mouth close to her ear. "Fuck," he says. "Fuck, this is good."

She agrees. They fit well together, and her body responds so well to his she almost regrets not having taken him as a lover sooner in her life time. Those who had warmed her bed before him, long ago, didn't hold a candle. His hands explore her with what felt like reverence, every tweak and caress meant only to make her feel good. He licks his fingertips and she has no time to wonder why before he's rolling the nub at the apex of her folds beneath them.

"Fuck," she finally says, and he grins in satisfaction.

Again, he doesn't let up until she's writhing, spine arched and nails digging into his skin and toes curled, choking his name out around gasps.

"Nelliel," he smiles against her mouth, and she shivers.

She understands now why he wants to hear it so bad. There's something so gratifying about hearing someone say your name like that.

When he finishes, his face is nestled against her throat again and he hisses, pushing as deep as he can and curling a fist in her hair.

Afterward, they lie on their backs beside one another, catching their breaths together.

"Why?" she finally rasps, and he brings a hand up to rub his face.

"Who would say no to someone like you?" he replies, breathes in, and then says, "Same reason you started it. Just curious."

She blinks. "I was almost under the impression you were trying to spite me."

"Through sex? I'd be more creative than that."

She pushes herself up to sit, limbs weightless and loose. "We need to get back before they wake."

"No second round?"

"Already?"

His lips touch her shoulder from behind.

.x.