Disclaimer: Me? Own Bleach? Im-fucking-possible!
Summary: Whoever said loving a goddess was easy? An UraxYoru one-shot.
Of Nights and Goddesses
Her soft, smooth fingers danced mischievously on the line of his jaw, the curve of his neck, and on to his hard, bare chest. There they lingered, and began to trace nonexistent patterns slowly and gently.
Urahara Kisuke shivered under her touch; a delicious kind of shiver. His scalp prickled with each curve traced by her finger. Still, his eyes remained closed and he tried his very best not to stir. He did not become the captain – rather, ex-captain – of the 12th division for nothing.
The goddess chuckled. Amused at his chivalrous restraint.
This woman, this deity, was a far cry from the no-nonsense woman that most people knew. This part of her was something that she shared only with him. With him and him alone.
She inched closer and her divine scent filled Urahara, reminding him of wonderful summer afternoons. Her soft breast made intimate contact with his very heated skin. He let out small groan. He just couldn't help it.
The beast within him roared; tormented by her nearness, frustrated by his inaction. Take her! Take her! Take her NOW! But Urahara knew better than to rush. After living for more than one-hundred and ten years, Urahara Kisuke knew better than that.
"Urahara Kisuke…" she purred, her warm breath tickling his ears.
Kisuke thought he heard a warning bell tolled in his head. But it was very faint, like it was never even there.
"Yes?" He said breathlessly.
Her hand was now torturously traversing dangerous territory, and he was having a really hard time comprehending. The leash that held the beast inside him was already frayed. Ready to snap, any minute from now.
It was too damned hard to concentrate.
When a goddess was at work, even brilliant scientists fucking fumbled.
"What… was that… again?" He asked distractedly.
Yoruichi smiled. Sometimes, even she was amazed of her effect on Urahara Kisuke. "I said… I want some ice cream."
The warning bell in his head tolled louder. The beast stopped struggling. My, oh my. This is bad. Wasn't this how things drastically ended four weeks ago?
"Yoruichi," he said patiently, "you ate all the ice cream last night."
"All?" As if she doesn't even remember.
How Yoruichi can eat so much and still maintain her lithe, athletic, and sinfully sexy figure was an eternal mystery. Even to the man who gets close to her the most.
"Yes. All."
"I guess you just have to buy one then."
"Now?" He asked in a please-be-reasonable voice.
The hand that seductively traced his clavicle moments ago suddenly withdrew.
"Yes," she all but growled. "Now."
"I think… it's around two in the morning…"
Yoruichi sat up. Almost black in the darkness, her long, purple hair, offered very little modesty for her naked back. And she didn't even bother to cover her very naked self.
It took a lot of willpower (Urahara was certain he deserved some reward and not this punishment) not to pull her back on the futon and make her scream his name. Again, and again, and again.
"I guess this means I have to cancel our student-teacher session tomorrow night," she said matter-of-factly.
It was Urahara's turn to sit up. Bolt right up, more like it.
Very few things surprised the always cool, always calm, and always collected Urahara Kisuke. Apparently, one of them was sex starvation.
"You can't do that!"
"Yes I can."
Of course she can. Empty threats were never her strong suit. It was the exact same thing she did a month ago.
"But Yo – Yoruichi, you already neglected me for four weeks – four weeks!!" He said, a little panicky now. "You can't keep on torturing me like this. I cancelled all appointments for tomorrow night. Besides, I already brought your uniform. It was especially customized… and… and… it cost me a lot."
"Kisuke, if you did what I told you to do, I'm sure you wouldn't have felt so… deprived."
"But—"
"I'm sorry Kisuke," she said, sounding not sorry at all. "You would just have to return it."
"No! I can't do that! Not until… not until I see you in it…"
Silence.
Breath-stopping silence.
Then, just when Urahara thought he was cursed to look (and only look) at her tempting, naked back forever, Yoruichi turned to face him, a smug smile on her pretty face. "Guess this means I'll have my ice cream after all."
Urahara let out a long-suffering sigh. "What flavor?"
A/N: Tsk, tsk, tsk. Poor Urahara-san.
Okay, another one – shot. I love Urahara and Yoruichi, thought I'd give it a try. I would really, really be grateful it if you would leave reviews. I hope it isn't outrageously OOC, and that the readers won't kill me….
Oh, no. Is that a… Cero Doble?!