Disclaimer: If I did happen to own Bleach and it's infamous character base, you'd all be having constant nose-bleeds. And since there hasn't been an up-rise in that case scenario, I obviously don't own Bleach. ©Tite Kubo/Kibo whatever.

Fiction Title: The Art of Sex Appeal

Pairing: Yoruichi / Ichigo

Rating: M

Summary:When Ichigo's sexual frustration gets in the way of his fighting, its up to Yoruichi to help relieve him of said stress. Who knew venting could feel so good? Mature Content. Yoru/Ichi.

Authors Notes: So I guess it's really no surprise at all that this fiction is rated M. Definitely not a surprise since it's a Yoruichi/Ichigo fiction coming from me, of all people. I could call myself the biggest perv when it comes to Bleach and it's characters. But why be that blunt and weird, and not just call myself a Romantic. Right? So there you have it folks. Instead of flat out admitting you're a perv, just call yourself a Romantic. Same meaning, in a way. Different appeal to it. This is just a short little two-shot. Nothing too major, nor long. Sorry. I don't have the time to do something too long at the moment.

On a different note; I didn't have time to thoroughly go through the next chapter for Twilight Fading. I'm still dishing out the idea's and flaws on that fiction. I've recently read through my own work and realized, I need to slow down a bit more, take my time. I have a lot of mistakes I overlooked. Whilst having a beta would be a good route to go, I dislike sharing my own work with another. Mainly because my idea's and what not have been "stolen" so to speak, and said person did not return my revised fiction until they themselves put out one with the exact idea. Therefore, I trust no one. Tad bit of info as to why my chapters have an occasional spelling error. No beta, work with me.

Read. +Review+ Enjoy!

If there was one thing Yoruichi loved, it was at the end of everyday's Hollow slaying routine. Coming home to a nice hot spring. A spring that healed all wounds, no less. Given the extremity of course. Any nicks or bruises healed within a matter of seconds. Lacerations took mere minutes, and wounds such as internal damaging took only a bit longer. So long as one wasn't mortally wounded, the spring pretty much took care of what the Fourth division of the Gotei would normally do.

Too bad the General knew nothing of it. The Fourth would surely be out of a job, but it wasn't her matter. She cared not about any of that. What she did care about, however, was defeating Aizen. So far, any attempt at an ambush was a little more than failure. No matter how they tried, the mans defenses were skin tight. There was no possible way to infiltrate Hueco Mundo without someone noticing. Given there were only a few powerful Espada left; there was still the regular Arrancar.

It wasn't their efforts that seemed to reflect upon them poorly. Every plan executed the way it were discussed. It definitely wasn't their timing. As far as Yoruichi knew, they'd managed to catch Aizen's army off guard a total of three times. Although, this had been a span of months. There really wasn't a thing called patience in this matter. At any given time, it could be the right to strike. However, with the current situation the way it was, another cloak-and-dagger attack could prove fatal, and not on their enemies part.

Heaving a sigh, the Shihouin heir completely submerged herself in steaming hot water. The smooth liquid rose above her breasts, bathing her silky chocolate skin in a purifying sensation. Every tense muscle in her body slowly began to ease. Simply amazing. How something so simple could create such effects on ones apparent attitude and appearance. Not to mention their well being. Which was why Yoruichi believed the reason they weren't succeeding in taking down Aizen was not because of their lack of power, or tactic; but because of those fighting against the man.

'If I'm right… this would mean Ichigo's been distracted. But just what could be distracting him at a time like this?'

It was true that the young boy had a lot on his plate. Being the only one capable of making a difference, and all. In the end, everything fell on his shoulders to finally kill Sousuke Aizen. His friends could die in this war. Being the one who carried said burden of keeping them alive had to weigh one down. Tasked with that, it was no wonder he had a lot on his mind. But even so…

'The boy knows where his weakness lies. So could it be that he's not holding back because of his concern for the others?'

Sinking into the water more, Yoruichi displayed an image of pure relaxation. Her arms lifted up over the rocks behind her, head falling backward whilst golden eyes closed. Purple locks were disheveled, clinging to her face. An effect of perspiration.

'As far as I know, he isn't sick. And he hasn't come to me with any questions. Which means he is sure of what his mission is. Ichigo knows what he must do. So, if that isn't the cause of his distraction, then what is?'

With an exasperated sigh, the Goddess lifted up, her lean form cracking and popping. She stepped from the hot spring, reaching for a towel she'd laid out. The moment her hand connected with the soft material, she had an epiphany.

'Is that why he can't focus?'

Golden hues snapped back to reality, a wry smirk appearing on her once sedated features. Quickly pulling up, the Goddess admired the way the droplets of water roamed down her skin; each move provoking a drop to travel its way towards gravities calling. If this was what was bothering the poor teen, Yoruichi knew she could more than provide complete satisfaction.

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The substitute shinigami sighed for what seemed to be the thousandth time that night. After the last failed attempt at taking down Aizen; they'd all retreated back to the Soul Society. Many had given up; forgoing the option to try again another day. They chose to wait for this war that would soon come, rather than eliminating the threat ahead of schedule.

Ichigo couldn't blame them.

After all, it was his fault the last few attempts were unsuccessful. It wasn't that he didn't trust his allies. It wasn't that he lacked skill. It wasn't that he felt weak, nor his concern for his friends. The strawberry knew they would be fine. The lot of them could handle themselves, otherwise they wouldn't have made it this far. It wasn't even the fact that he wasn't strong enough.

The reason he couldn't concentrate was actually quite simple.

It was all because of his damned hormones!

Gritting his teeth, Ichigo moved from his spot near the window of his room at Kukaku's safe house; which was now located directly above the underground training cavern he'd learned Ban-Kai in. And the said person to be unofficially blamed for his lack thereof was none other than the sexy temptress, Shihouin Yoruichi. Ichigo couldn't point fingers, but it was all her damn fault!

"Damnit! If she hadn't ever shown me her true form the way that she did, I wouldn't be having these thoughts about her!" The teen scowled, tossing his shinigami robes onto his makeshift bed before heading into the bathroom. With a few adjustments to the shower, he managed to set its settings on a relaxing massage spray; making sure the notch was only on hot so the steam washed away any stress, and smoothed any aching muscles. He imagined, right about now, the Goddess of Flash was beneath this place; basking in her own form of relaxation at the spring she loved so much.

And hot damn, did that thought bring an image to mind!

Without realizing where his mind was going, Ichigo slipped out of the rest of his robes before stepping fully into the shower. He groaned at the feeling of the hotness caressing his skin, wholly welcoming its touch.

Brown orbs closed, peace overtaking his mind before reverting to a different type of peace. Ichigo let out a strained groan as his minds vivid imagination conjured up a very wet, and very naked, Yoruichi Shihouin. In this fantasy, she was getting out of the hot spring. Her gorgeous figure outlined by the mysterious, serene light of the cavern; the tiny water droplets clinging to her skin as golden eyes peered through half open eyes. Long violet hair hung to her skin, lithe physique accentuating upon every movement. Every curve becoming apparent as toned muscles rippled when she lifted her arms above her head in a mild stretch.

Droplets of water cascaded down from the ends of her hair, dripping onto her skin and beginning their plummet downward. Ichigo's eyes traced these water lines, following them. From the ones going into the canyon of her breasts; disappearing in sexy cleavage, before he got sidetracked by another. One of which moved over her skin in an agonizingly slow trail. Starting from her neck, trailing down over her plush breast, only to be caught at the tip of a hardened dark nipple. The water stayed there a brief moment, before falling off and hitting the ground in a graceful splash.

Fisting his hardened man-hood, Ichigo's eyes opened to reveal himself in his own shower room. Oh, the disappointment! Groaning inwardly, the strawberry leaned forward on the shower wall, propped upon by his forearm whilst the other made work of the erection he knew he would have all night if he didn't take care of it now. "Ah, Yoruichi…" He moaned out, eyes squeezing closed so he could picture that image of her again.

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The Goddess was utterly shocked. Her golden eyes staring wide eyed at the shower door to which provided a crystallized cover for Ichigo. Coming here hadn't been her direct intention, but when the Goddess changed into something comfortable, and headed towards the kitchen in hopes to find some food… She'd instead been perplexed by the sound of Ichigo's shower. Having tip-toed her way down the hall, spotting his door open, and oddly feeling like she were invited. She had had no problem in just getting a peak inside. That is, until she heard her name come from the males lips.

Hearing his strained moan when he reached his climax caused a shiver to run through the purple haired Goddess. The shower turned off, signaling time for her to escape the room. Stealing her hand from her shorts, Yoruichi smirked to herself before using her shunpo in order to leave unnoticed by him. Though, she didn't go far.

Ichigo toweled off quickly, another sigh escaping his lips as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. "You're just kidding yourself." He muttered, giving a pitiful smile before pulling on a pair of black jogging pants. Tossing the towel over his shoulder, he left the bathroom, though not before turning out the light.

Drying his hair, he tossed the towel across the room into the laundry basket; that was when he saw her.

Bathed in the aluminous glow of the moonlight, Yoruichi was leaning back against his door. Her arms folded beneath her large chest, obviously she knew how it would look. Her generous figure was intentionally in profile, of course. She was his biggest cock tease, after all.

Silence invaded the room, Ichigo's eyes having been too preoccupied at the moment for any words to flee his partially open mouth.

Gaping at her beauty, he took immediate notice to the soft halter top she wore. It was a thin material that clung to her very womanly curves like a second skin; having stopped just below her breasts to reveal a flat, yet chiseled stomach. Her bottoms didn't help the matter either. The silky, short drawstring shorts clung to her firm ass, suggesting nothing underneath. Toned thighs proof of her lively hardships, calves all the same. Indeed, she had a pair of legs to die for, and which was more than enough skin to get him going again. Her long violet hair was left unbound, free to flow over her shoulders and accentuate even more of her natural beauty. She was a Goddess in every way, shape and form.

Was this her normal sleeping attire?

Ichigo blinked, a blush marring his features as he prepared to ask her what it was she were doing in here. And just how much she had heard of his little shower interlude. However, something about her threw him off.

Golden orbs gazed at him with a different weight to them. Gone was the otherwise lethal and untamed exile. The Shihouin that stood before him now was a beautiful and svelte woman.

"Y-Yoruichi…"

End Notes: In case you're wondering just what the title has to do with the story; Yoruichi's sex appeal is what distracted Ichigo in the first place. Further more hindering his thought process when in battle. T'is merely ones anatomy getting the better of them. Sexual frustration is a bitch though. Next chapter shall be the smut. This is a two-shot. When I update, however, is entirely up to you guys. If you can't wait for more, let me know. Also, its always good to know your thoughts. Did you like it, and all that. Till next time, Ciao ;)

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