An IchiHime Vegas story.

Warnings: language and lemon

Edit: I changed a couple of things that were bothering me, particularly an Orihime character decision that I decided was way off. But anyway, for those who review, don't be afraid to let me know if you think I was off with the characters, in particular.

.

.

After an eternity of fighting through the dense fog of sleep, Ichigo cracked open one heavy eyelid and peered through the blurriness. He squeezed it shut and dragged his fingers across his creased eyes as his mouth stretched into a cavernous yawn. As brown eyes opened and began to make out his surroundings, he frowned in confusion.

His hotel room was very red. And pink. And frilly. With a few too many mirrors. He blinked down at the pillows tumbled over themselves on the fluffy red rug. He could not quite tell, but he had an ominous feeling that said rug was heart-shaped.

With a sniff, he tried to gather his thoughts as he looked around the room. He sat up.

"Ow, fuck."

And laid back down. Sitting up is evil and dangerous, he decided.

As the pain began to subside from his ill-advised action, his brain began to slowly brush away the sticky cobwebs.

Las Vegas. Summer. Right.

They were in Las Vegas for a college graduation celebration (sponsored by an uncharacteristically generous move from Ishida's father). He was there with Tatsuki, Chad, Keigo, Mizuiro, Ishida, and Orihime.

Orihime.

Something within him jolted and shifted when he thought of her name. As if a puzzle piece were trying to get back into place...

Hm.

Anyway. He had the mother of all hangovers. Apparently he got carried away with the tequila last night. And he wasn't in his original hotel room. Almost looked like one of those love hotels from back home in Japan. Not that he'd ever been to one. Just that he had heard... things.

There was that shifting feeling again.

He scowled in thought as he studied an article of clothing thrown over a red and white chair (also heart shaped since he was staying in hell, apparently) and tried to recall what happened last night.

Friends. Games. Drinks.

He rubbed at his nose when something caught his eye and he slowly turned his hand around, raising an eyebrow at a plastic ring on his left ring finger with a small aqua flower stuck to it.

...Drinks.

Lots of drinks.

And then he hit fog. Ichigo grumbled as he looked up at the lacy canopy over the apparently heart-shaped (what the hell was wrong with the hotel owners) bed. Well, at least it was comfortable. It was probably the softest bed he had ever lain in. He yawned again, stretching his arms high over his head, and then let one flop over the side and the other flop across the bed -

And onto a soft but distinct lump that emitted a very feminine, "Mm."

His whole body froze. His eyes darted back to the clothing that he'd been looking at. It was a dress he'd been staring at. A little black dress.

Panic started to set in. Who the hell was sleeping next to him? Why were they sleeping next to him? He stared at the dress. Okay, so, he was very naked under the fluffy covers and if her dress was over there, then it might be safe to assume that she was also naked and if they were both naked then that could only mean...

Ichigo gulped. His breath started coming in fast which only made his headache worse. He concentrated on slowly breathing in and out through his nose. All right, he needed to get a hold of himself. This was okay. He got laid last night. In Vegas. And that was generally accepted to be good thing for a young man his age. Great. Except that he couldn't remember a solitary second of it. And as for who the girl next to him might be... he hadn't a clue about that either. Even though that dress did seem vaguely familiar...

Suddenly delicate fingers were wrapping around his forearm and pulling on it, trying to wrap it stiffly around an equally delicate waist. His eyes shot open and then squeezed shut as a very plump, very soft, very naked bottom snuggled up to his -also naked- hip.

Now was the moment. It was now or never. He breathed in deep, keeping his eyes shut, rolled partially onto his side, carefully avoiding her very nice feeling rear, and on the count of three he shot his eyes open.

A swarm of emotions hit him mercilessly at the sight of the unique and familiar long, caramel hair: relief, panic, excitement, arousal, more panic, disbelief, denial, excitement, some more panic, and so on.

Finally getting a grip, he carefully retracted his arm, but then she whimpered -fuck, she has a cute whimper- and began shifting. No, no, no! Don't wake up! He quickly replaced it with his other arm. She moaned happily and hugged his arm to her stomach. Her very bare, very warm, very smooth, very flat, again, very bare stomach. His fingers itched to spread and flatten his palm against her, but he set his jaw, clenched his fist, and tried to think.

Which she made very difficult as she moved back against him, her warm, bare back fitting against his chest, her soft, messy hair snuggling under his chin, and her bottom scooted against a very hard case of morning wood.

Ichigo bit back a violent curse at the feel of her bottom caressing his- Gah! They were both very, very naked and very, very close. Very naked. Very, VERY naked. He looked down.

Big mistake.

The covers had fallen down around her hips and her breasts were - damn, they're gorgeous. And big. So big. Had he touched those last night? Damn it, why couldn't he remember.

He inwardly gave himself a violent shake. Can't think about that. Ever.

...Or he could think about it forever. Could repeat last night fore-

No! Would not think about Orihime like that! Even though they'd apparently done more than thoughts... still! He thought about yanking up the covers with his teeth since one arm was trapped under her head and the other being held by her arm, but then concluded that was probably an impossible physical feat, even for him.

Wait. Forever. Why did that word start that puzzle-shifting feeling again?

He indulged and watched the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest for a few guilty moments as he tried to remember why that word would mean anything to him. Orihime shifted one of her hands that lay peacefully next to her and something caught his eyes. He raised an eyebrow at the black ring on her left ring finger adorned with a skull, two tiny red jewels stuck in its face for eyes. What the-

Ring. Left hand. Aqua flower.

His eyes widened.

Ring. Left hand. Skull.

His eyes became saucers.

No way.

Las Vegas. Rings. Left hands.

No fucking way.

She moaned in her sleep again. "Ichi...go."

Ichigo silently scolded his heart for pounding even harder against his chest at the sound of his name coming from Orihime's morning voice.

What was he going to do when she woke up? What the hell was he supposed to do or say in this situation? How had they let this happen? How had their supposed friends let this happen?

He bit back a loud groan when she shifted in her sleep, rubbing against his stiff problem underneath the sheets. Trying to focus on a solution was really difficult when all he could think about was controlling his hips from getting the friction he seemed to desperately need. Also, soft skin was plaguing his brain. Soft skin over soft curves...

Getting up would help with thinking, but getting up also meant waking her up and he wasn't ready for that yet. Not in a mill-

She moved her hand over his fist that was still hanging over her stomach, his fingers involuntarily loosened at her touch, and she laced her fingers through his -

Their intertwined hands pressed into the pillow, above her head, as he raced a line of kisses down her neck, shoulder, chest - she arched sharply when he pressed a heated, wet kiss to her breast, dragging his mouth downward until it covered her stiff, waiting nipple. Her body writhed and trembled underneath him as he sucked on her breasts.

She tried to untangle her hands from his so she could touch him, but he kept them firmly against the pillow. Her naked hips lifted off the bed and bumped the hard arousal that she needed inside her. He could feel her already soaking, and couldn't help but buck against her. Orihime raised her hips again and let her sex drag along his, begging with her movements and her small whimpers that he would pay more attention down there.

Holy...shit.

Then more memories started returning, like an old, choppy movie running through his mind. An extended game of Ping Pong Pang. Orihime sputtering in giggles when she messed up and swaying against him. Somebody cracking a joke at how they made a good couple. Keigo squealing in protest that they would become a couple over his dead body and then laughing loudly at the thought of Ichigo getting a girl like Orihime. Orihime loudly protesting. Another voice telling them in a slurred shout to just get married already. It was Vegas after all. Ichigo falling to one knee and asking her to marry him. Them stopping in some tourist trap shop to carefully yet clumsily pick out rings. Elvis wearing a clerical collar. Vows. Stumbling to the nearest hotel. Clothes being yanked off. Tossed aside. Collapsing onto the bed in a flurry of hungry kisses.

"Mm." She turned in his arms till she lay on her back, brushing painfully, deliciously against him as she went, inadvertently putting her breasts on an even more tempting display. His arm was finally released and he grabbed the covers and yanked them over her.

Damn it, why do you have to be so fucking beautiful? he silently accused the peaceful face with its long lashes resting against soft cheeks. Then they started to flutter and his heart stopped. No, no, no. Don't wake up! Not yet! He wasn't ready for this.

But despite his entreaties to the universe, eyelashes fluttered until soft brown eyes were looking first up at the canopy, then over to his face. She smiled contentedly at him and closed her eyes. He held his breath and counted as one. Two. Three seconds ticked by and then her eyes snapped open again, her mouth falling open in shock.

"Kuro...saki...kun?"

They stared at each other for two heartbeats and then Ichigo scrambled away from her. "Sorry!"

He scurried back too far and fell off the bed. She stared at him as he stumbled to his feet, slipping on pillows, and then her eyes dropped to his little problem, still standing high at attention despite panic fully setting in. Her cheeks flooded with red as she stared with shock and fascination.

He quickly bent and tried to cover himself with his hands. "Sorry!"

Her eyes blinked and jerked back to his face, flickering back down again. He staggered backwards and started frantically searching for some kind of clothing. He grabbed something off the back of a chair and tried to wrap it around his waist. Scowling, he looked down at the flimsy fabric and then his eyes popped open. "Shit, sorry!" He flung her black dress back onto the chair and grabbed his black blazer that was on the floor behind the chair and wrapped the arms around his waist.

He managed to look up at her again, and she was still sitting up, staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights... with the covers pooled down around her hips. He gulped hard and couldn't tear his eyes away from her full chest staring back at him. There was a horrified, strangled squeak and then the covers were yanked up high to her chin. He caught sight of her beet red face and looked away, completely embarrassed at his uncool behavior.

"S-Sorry." Dammit, say something else other than 'sorry', moron! "Um..."

He forced himself to look back at her face and watched as her wheels were frantically turning, trying to figure out what in the world was going on. Realization quickly dawned on her countenance. Her memories were apparently coming back a lot faster than his had. "Oh!" Her face was turning purple now. She stared down at the ring on her finger. "Oh my gosh!" Those huge eyes looked back at him, one hand covering her mouth and the other clutching the covers high on her chest.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?!

"Um..." he started again. Clothes, he realized. They needed clothes. The air was so thick in here he could barely breathe. He glanced at the dress and then over at some white fabric lying on the floor. He cleared his throat and moved sideways, scooped up his button-up shirt from last night, and his lead feet moved back towards her, holding out a shaking shirt with a shaking hand.

Her hand slid from her mouth and she tentatively grasped the shirt. "Th-Thank you."

He nodded and whirled around. She gasped and he realized he had just mooned her. "Sorry!" he said as he whirled back around in time to see her bite her lip and drop her eyes. He coughed awkwardly. "U-Um, I'll just... go in here..." She glanced up and nodded as he started side-stepping over to the bathroom.

When the door shut behind him, Orihime let out the breath she had been holding. Automatically, she pulled the white shirt around her shoulders, shoving her arms through the sleeves and buttoning up to the collar. She slid off the bed, and disconcertedly tugged at the hem of the shirt that she had just realized was Ichigo's. It fell only a few inches past her hips while the sleeves nearly covered her hands.

She felt wrapped in his scent and her mind unwillingly wandered. Waking up next to his hard, warm body had been like a dream. She thought she had been dreaming for a few seconds there. But it was real. And last night they had... gotten married and... and...

There was a loud knock at the door and she squeaked, clutching his shirt close to her body.

A muffled voice called through the door, "Room service!"

She blinked rapidly and quickly scooted towards the door, glanced through the peep hole to see a young maid with a cart of covered food, and opened the door. The maid grinned at her. "U-Um, I'm sorry, but I... er... we didn't order any room service."

The maid cheerfully pushed past her into the room. "Oh, it's complimentary for our newlyweds."

"N-Newlyweds..." Orihime stuttered as she tried the word out.

She looked up as she pulled out the champagne from the ice bucket, wrapping a cloth napkin around the cork, and smiled at Orihime. "You two are such a cute couple." She gave the wide-eyed girl a wink. "And so lovey dovey too."

"L-Lovey dovey..." Her and Ichigo? Lovey dovey? She had the sudden urge to clutch her hands to her head to keep it from exploding.

The maid pulled off the cork with a loud pop. "And it's so nice to see someone from home."

Orihime blinked at her and then realized that she was speaking fluent Japanese. "Oh!" She smiled brightly. "You're from Japan!"

Ichigo was grateful for the maid's arrival plus her chattiness so he could try to steel himself against the memories that kept coming back to him. He leaned against the door, remembering, even more clearly now, how it felt to be inside her, how incredible she felt underneath him. The way she moved when he touched her, how her body responded to his clumsy exploring. They had been tipsy and bumbling, but it had been amazing. It had been unbelievable.

He still couldn't quite believe it. It still felt like he was just remembering a dream. An extremely vivid dream.

Two long, white robes were neatly hung on the hooks of the bathroom door. As he turned to grab for one, he paused, catching something in his peripheral in the mirror. He stretched his neck to look at his back in the mirror. Long, red marks were riddled up and down the skin that stretched over his back muscles.

Ichigo gazed for a moment, astonished and intrigued by the person whose nails had caused this. He reached around and ran his fingers along one side, remembering how it had felt to have her so immersed in pleasure, so lost to herself, that normally gentle Orihime who wouldn't hurt a fly would dig into his back with her nails and scrape along his skin like...

He caught sight of his lecherous expression in the mirror and stopped his thoughts short, muttering to himself as he threw the robe on.

Their room door shut and there was silence on the other side again. He listened to the soft shuffling across the carpet and the tinkling of glass. Ichigo tightened his jaw. He couldn't stay locked up in this bathroom forever.

As appealing as that sounded at the moment.

Orihime let out a small squeak and nearly splashed mimosa all over her face when he suddenly stepped out.

"Sorry!" College had really done wonders for his vocabulary.

"N-No, you're fine."

Ichigo fidgeted and looked down at the carpet, over at the door, over at the cart, up at-

"Um, d-do you want something to eat?"

His stomach flipped upside down at the thought of food. But maybe he should eat something... He nodded jerkily and stepped over towards the cart. She turned her back towards him to set down her flute and lift off a domed metal cover. His eyes lingered on her long, sleep-tousled hair. Not just tousled by sleep, as he recalled.

A strangled sound broke him out of his daze and he stepped closer to look over her shoulder. Heart-shaped waffles covered in strawberries. Two poached eggs, perfectly dome shaped, tipped with small round pimentos. And long sausages.

This hotel was too much.

Ichigo grabbed the cover from her hand and slammed it back down on the platter. He gently took a firm hold on her shoulders, turning her to him. "Ino... Orihime." Her eyes widened at that. "We, uh...I think we need to talk."

She nodded once and fiddled a button. Ichigo gulped at the feelings that rushed over him as he studied her in his shirt.

He glanced upwards in silent inquiry as to what one was supposed to say after a one night stand with one of one's best friends. He winced at "one night stand". No, it wasn't a one night stand. It was... well, they had gotten married. And of course they would have to get it annulled. And they had had sex last night. That was never going to happen again. So it had lasted one night. But...

Damn it! Orihime wasn't the type of girl a guy had a one night stand with! She was the kind of girl you woke up to every morning. She was the kind of girl you grew old with.

...His line of inconsistent thinking wasn't even making sense to himself. And his heart and brain felt like scrambled eggs.

"Um...H-How much do you remember?" he asked.

He watched her eyelids flutter and then slowly look up at him. The unexpectedly heated look made something hot pierce his chest. Her eyes quickly dropped and the button was worried mercilessly.

"A lot," she whispered.

Ichigo resisted the urge to pull her into his arms... for a second. And then she bit down on her lip to keep it from trembling and he pulled her in and wrapped his arms around her. He smoothed down her hair as she buried her face into his chest.

Now what was he supposed to do? Ichigo pressed his nose into her hair and held her tighter, wanting to just forget all of it and none of it. Was it so crazy to want to get lost in her and never leave?

He pushed her back slightly to look down at her face, and she looked up at him with clear eyes. His hand somehow made its way to her face and it rested on her cheek. She closed her eyes and rubbed against his hand. His thumb moved and dragged across her bottom lip. His head lowered towards her parted lips...

"Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring, banana phone! I've got this fee~ling! So a-peel~ing! For us to get together and sing - sing!"

They simply stared at each other and listened in shock.

Orihime suddenly seemed to shake herself out of it. "Oh! That's my phone!" She quickly pulled away from his arms, jogging to her purse.

Ichigo swallowed hard when her running caused the shirt to fly up and reveal her perfect backside while some guy continued to sing about banana phones. He pinched the bridge of his nose harshly. What are you doing, idiot?

Orihime juggled around with her phone nervously before finally picking it up. "Hello."

"Orihime?" The voice on the other side was hoarse and tired.

"Tatsuki? Are you all right?"

"Uh...yeah. Just...if you could keep your voice down to a low whisper, that would be grand."

"Oh, sorry. Bad hangover?"

"Ugh, I'd forgotten why I never drink like this. Never let me do this again. So..."

Orihime absently played with the strap of her purse while her friend talked, both grateful for and slightly, just slightly, irritated at Tatsuki's interruption. But mostly grateful. What had she been about to do? It was bad enough that she had practically attacked Ichigo when they were drunk. But to try it again when they were sober! Of course, it may have just been her imagination, but it had almost seemed as if Ichigo might have also been a little... But surely not... But then last night he had certainly been... She felt her face go up in flames as the strap wrapped tightly around her finger. Orihime groaned. She was so confused and mixed up inside.

"Eh? Orihime? What do you mean "ugghh"?

"Huh? What?"

A small sigh on the other end. "You feeling bad too? I asked where you are. Did you go out for coffee or something? If you are, could you grab me a cup?"

Orihime gripped her phone with one hand. Tatsuki doesn't remember. She thinks Orhime was in their room last night. What was she going to do? Were they going to tell their friends about this? Or... She worried her bottom lip and glanced over her shoulder at Ichigo who was knocking the pimentos off of the provocative eggs with a small fork. They hadn't even had a chance to discuss anything because she'd been too overcome with emotions and lust and embarrassment to think properly.

She had to think fast. And, probably unfortunately, the first that came to her to say was, "Ah! Y-Yeah, I went out for coffee. Um, just black coffee?"

"Yeah, a big one. Thanks, Orihime."

"R-Right. See you in a bit."

She pressed her finger to the screen and watched it go black, feeling his eyes on her. Orihime swallowed and half turned to look at him. He was just looking at her, a question on his face.

Orhime nervously curled her toes into the carpet. "She thinks I slept in her room last night," she said, as if that explained everything.

He seemed to comprehend and nodded, a frown forming on his face. "Um... clothes. Your clothes."

"Oh!" It dawned on her when she looked down. She was still in his shirt! And her clothes were still the ones from last night. Orihime looked around frantically. All she had was her black dress and her strappy heels. And undergarments...

She squeaked in shock.

"Wh-What's wrong?"

Orihime stared at her black undergarments strewn on the floor. Not only were they out there in the open, she'd completely forgotten she was standing around in a hotel room, in nothing but Ichigo's shirt. Nothing but.

"Um, nothing!" Literally. She gripped the sides of his shirt, holding it down as she turned around. "Well... I guess I just need to go back and tell Tatsuki-chan the truth."

Ichigo felt a small bit of panic rise up in his chest. Telling somehow made it seem so much more real. And telling it to Tatsuki seemed potentially painful. But he couldn't deny that Orihime was probably right. They needed to somehow start on the road of setting all this right.

He looked at her, gripping his shirt on its sides, pulling it even tighter on her breasts. Or they could just hole up in Cupid's fluffy den and forget everyone else. Live in their own world and make love twenty-four seven. That sounded pretty right to him. Pretty damn perf-

Ichigo stopped dead in his tracks. Because he had unknowingly been moving. Towards her. With insane thoughts running through his dulled mind. He seriously needed to get it under control. What were they talking about?

"Right. The truth. I'll go with you. Just, uh, I'll get my clothes."

"Thank you."

Thank you? What on earth did she need to thank him for? They both had to deal with this together. Somehow. But he just grunted and started gathering his things until the last piece that was left was what she was wearing.

"Uh... that... The, uh, shirt..."

She blinked at him. "Oh! Of course! Um..." Her eyes flicked around, the red deepening in her face. "I-If you wouldn't mind just turning around a moment..."

"Ah! Right, right!" He turned on his heel, facing the bathroom he was ready to burst into. On the nearly closed door, there was a full length mirror and he could clearly see Orihime as she turned her back to him and lifted her hands to unbutton.

Tempting. So tempting.

But Ichigo immediately gave himself a mental kick in the shins and stared up at the ceiling.

He could just hear the faintest sound of fabric moving as she unbuttoned. Orihime was going to be naked near him. Again. Wasn't there only so much a guy could take in the span of one hour? Certain images from last night kept inviting themselves into his brain, no matter how much he fought. And a particular body part of his was trying to join in on the fun. His friend was getting undressed behind him in a completely non-sexual way, and yet he was fighting a hard-on. Plus, controlling his eyes from dropping to the mirror was almost as bad as controlling his inner hollow. What kind of pervert was he, anyway?

Suddenly his shirt was thrust into view, hanging by slim fingers attached to a graceful hand attached to a naked arm attached to...

He snatched the shirt, a little too forcefully, muttered a thanks, and kept his gaze on the ground as he flew into the bathroom, nearly slamming the door behind him before he caught it and closed it normally. He tossed most of his clothes onto the counter, flung off the robe, and grabbed his shirt, quickly sticking his arms into it.

...It was warm. He hooked the buttons Orihime had just finished undoing. It had only been on her a few minutes, but it had already absorbed some of her scent. He closed his eyes and inhaled.

Ichigo was going to go insane. That was all there was to it.

He sneered at his insistent hard-on. There was no way he was going to take care of it with Orihime in the next room. It would just have to suffer. It certainly deserved to suffer after what it had done. Ichigo quickly put on the rest of his clothes, deciding to leave his shirt untucked in an attempt to hide the tell-tale stiffness at his crotch.

He paused for a moment and then opened the door a crack, knocking. He cleared his throat. "Are you decent?"

"I-I..."

"It's fine if you're not, I'll just wait."

"No! No, I'm fine. You can come out."

He raised his eyebrow slightly at her odd response, but came out as she said. Ichigo paused when he saw and swallowed, trying to rehydrate his increasingly dry throat. That dress. It was one of those little black numbers. Classy and simple, but sexy. So frakking sexy. Perfectly accentuating her breasts without being too revealing and falling just a couple of inches above her knee. There were other details, but it was hard for him to notice with those breasts and those legs and those sexy heels strapped to her feet. It had raised his body temperature even before their... encounter last night. But in the daylight it somehow seemed downright sinful. And now it brought back memories. He'd unzipped that dress last night. Had slid it off her shoulders and let it fall to her feet.

Ichigo forced his eyes back to her face, mortified that he'd been openly ogling. Thankfully she hadn't seemed to notice and was nervously staring at the carpet and fidgeting.

"Um, I'm sorry, but... I need you to help me a moment."

"Oh, sure."

She glanced to the side before moving towards him, the sway of her hips exaggerated by the high shoes. Ichigo swallowed hard. She needed to be closer to him for this favor?

"I can't reach it completely. If you could just..."

She stepped in front of him and turned around. And his little problem was straining even more at his pants. The flaps of her dress were open, revealing the smooth skin of her back, the black strip of her bra interrupting the tempting expanse.

"I-I think the zipper's stuck."

Ichigo blinked. He tore his eyes away from her back and found where she'd gotten the zipper up a few inches. A good thing too or he'd be greeting those two seductive little dimples above her ass again. Ichigo shook his head and cleared his throat. He really needed to stop remembering every detail of her body.

"R-Right. I'll get it." He reached for the zipper while telling his hands to stop shaking. His hands had certainly had no quivering qualms last night. Ichigo tugged at the stubborn zipper. Keyword being stubborn. It was indeed stuck. He tugged some more. Nothing. He swallowed and slowly unzipped it a few centimeters. Trying to ignore the blood pounding in his ears, he drew it back up, but it snagged at the same spot again.

Ichigo unzipped it again and pulled it out a little to see what was going on. A small piece of fabric was bent and was catching on the mechanism. He muttered an apology and carefully slipped his fingers between the fabric of the dress and her warm skin, but contact was unavoidable, and the back of his hand brushed against her back. Orihime suddenly shook from a shiver.

Ichigo muttered another apology. She mumbled something back, and he went back to the task, carefully pulling the zipper back up. More of his hand than was necessary was now pressing against her as he slowly dragged the zipper up. He told himself that he needed to keep smoothing the fabric so it wouldn't get caught again. And he had to do it slowly.

What he would not do was switch the direction of the zipper. Or bend down to kiss that tempting curve of her neck. Or any number of things that were spinning around in his head as he fought to close up her dress. No zipper had ever been so heavy.

Orihime realized she was soon going to melt right there. Right into the carpet. Was it just her, or was the zipper taking a lifetime to traverse the line of her spine. She could feel the heat from his body across the small space between them. And those rough knuckles dragging along her skin were going to be the absolute end of her.

Her legs shifted and she could feel the tell-tale dampness. Just from this little bit of contact. She wanted to groan from mortification and arousal and frustration, but she held it down. Just hang on a little longer...

Was that his breath on her neck?

Suddenly she felt a slight tightening tug at the top of her dress, signaling that she was finally closed up. There was a small sink in her chest from disappointment. Except he hadn't taken his hand out of her dress.

Then she heard his low, husky voice right next to her ear. "All zipped up."

"Thank you." Was that breathy sound her voice? Also, her heart needed to simmer down or it was going to tear a hole into her chest. She wasn't sure how long they were standing there, time seemed to take a break momentarily as her head felt dizzier and foggier by the second. His warm, rough hand finally, but slowly, slipped out of dress, each of his fingers dragging, lingering as long as possible. And he was dragging out the possible by traveling up her back and towards her neck, his short nails sending electricity down her back.

Of its own accord, though with no real protest from her, Orihime's body swayed back into his touch. The backs of his fingers were moving along the side of her neck, and she bent her head to give him easier access. There was his warm breath again, and she could feel the ends of his soft, spiky hair brushing against her cheek. She let her eyelids droop nearly shut as she fell under a foggy spell, silently urging him to draw closer.

Without warning, the heat disappeared. His fingers, his breath, his body; all jerked away, and she was left standing there with her lips parted and her head tilted to the side like some lusty idiot. With a gasp she straightened and without thinking, repeated her thanks.

She barely registered the grunt behind her.

What was that? And earlier, before Tatsuki called? And... well everything. Orihime bit her lip as she walked toward her purse. Was she imagining things? Everything was so messed up, she hardly knew what was up and what was down.

A part of her was elated that she had slept with Ichigo last night. Another part of her wanted to break because it had been a drunken night in Vegas when it happened, and it probably would never happen again.

She wanted to crawl into a very dark, very deep hole. Or better, crawl back into last night's bed with Ichigo and never come out to face reality.

Instead she turned around with a smile, white-knuckling the strap of her purse. "Ready!"

Ichigo jolted back from simultaneously being lost in the way her hips moved and berating himself for being such a horny bastard that breathed down girls' necks. He nodded and handed her his sports jacket.

She stared at it for a moment before taking it with a quiet thanks. As she slipped it on, he unfairly but silently chastised her for looking too fucking sexy in his clothes. While she adorably pulled the jacket closed with her small fingers that barely poked out of his sleeves, Ichigo busied himself with grabbing the room key and opening the door.

Silence stretched between them as they walked down the agonizingly long corridor and waited for the tortuously slow elevator to show up and then take its sweet time to get to the lobby.

Orihime gripped his jacket around her tighter as the bell dinged and the doors began to open. Ichigo thought he probably understood. They were wearing evening clothes and coming out of a hotel in the morning. Everyone was going to know exactly what they had done last night.

He felt he should touch her somehow to reassure her and ended up resting his hand lightly on her elbow as they stepped out onto the gleaming floor of the lobby. She jerked in apparent surprise, but immediately relaxed into his touch. A fabric-covered elbow had seemed safe, but his hand felt like a hundred hot needles were pricking it.

Ichigo had expected every eye to be staring at them, but they seemed to be largely ignored besides the usual quick glances. Apparently this happened frequently here, or else people were just too concerned with their own business to care. He reached the front desk and put the plastic key on the smooth black counter, struggling to remember the appropriate English phrases he had tried to memorize last minute for this trip.

"Ah, the Kurosaki couple! Good morning to you!"

Ichigo's head jerked up and he felt Orihime stiffen at the greeting spoken in stilted and heavily American accented Japanese. A robust andd cheerful brown-haired man with sparkling blue eyes grinned at them.

"We didn't expect to see you two out and about for another two or three days!"

As the clerk guffawed, Ichigo felt heat creeping up his neck and scowled. Did this guy have no sense of decorum?

"But what's this?" The clerk picked up the key with two fingers and examined it.

Ichigo reached into his back pocket, relieved to feel his wallet there as he hadn't even thought to check. "We're checking out. How much do I owe you?"

The clerk simply stared, so Ichigo repeated it again in very slow Japanese.

"But Kurosaki-san... The room has already been paid for. And for two more nights."

Two more nights? That was the rest of the their trip. And he certainly couldn't afford two more nights at a place like this. Even though the room was ridiculous, this was a fairly high quality hotel.

"Your friend paid for it."

Friend? Which friend?

"And you explicitly told me that no one was to disturb you two for the next few days except with food and drink."

Ichigo stared at the man who was obviously insane. "I said that?"

The clerk nodded, and Ichigo wanted to punch that gleeful look right out of his eyeballs. "And your young lady here wanted to know if there was a room with a tiny door at the bottom of the big door to slide the food through so that there wouldn't be any interruptions."

Ichigo dared to slide a look over and down at Orihime. Her eyes were as big as saucers and her face as red as a cherry.

The clerk put a finger to his chin. "That's a rather good idea for our newlywed suites, actually. I'll have to suggest that to upper management."

He wanted to think that this guy was crazy or just playing a joke on the poor foreigners, but something tugging at the back of his brain told him it was all true.

The clerk leaned over the counter with a grin. "So why don't you two crazy kids get yourselves back up to your room."

He felt a tugging on his sleeve and immediately concurred with Orihime's signal. They would have to deal with this later. Hopefully when this invasive prick wasn't working. Without a word, he turned them both around, reclaiming her elbow as they walked outside. His knuckles itched to make contact with the clerk's jaw as his chuckles followed them out the revolving door.

Ichigo paused outside, trying to get his bearings in the strange town. Orihime pointed down the road.

"The hotel is just down there."

The hotel where they were supposed to be staying and where everyone else was staying, Ichigo presumed, unless the insanity had been catching last night.

Orihime held her breath as she knocked on her and Tatsuki's room. The door opened almost immediately to reveal a groggy, red-eyed Tatsuki squinting at her friend. Her eyes widened a little when she saw Orihime standing there with a venti coffee.

"Ah, finally you're here. Thank you." She took the coffee and turned to move back into the room. "Did you forget your room key?" Tatsuki paused and turned around again when she got no response and heard no movement. "Orihime?"

Orihime watched her friend's eyes look at her curiously then switch to the tall, nervously shifting figure behind her. Tatsuki frowned. "Ichigo? What-" She looked back at Orihime and blinked down at her appearance, then back over to Ichigo and his appearance. Her eyes flicked back and forth a few more times before they flew open in furious shock. "Ichigo! What the hell did you do, you bastard!"

Orihime managed to grab and steady the coffee in Tatsuki's hands. "Wait, Tatsuki! Please!"

Tatsuki turned her intense gaze back to her friend. "What in the-" She stopped and looked momentarily distant, as if remembering something. "Oh... Oh! ...Son of a bitch! ...Okay, wait. I need to sit down. Get in here. Both of you."

They followed her into the modest but quality hotel room and Tatsuki sat down cross-legged on the edge of one of the two queen beds. She ruffled her black hair and took a sip of her coffee as they stood in front of her, Orihime's hands clasped in front of her and Ichigo's hands stuck in his pockets.

"So... Let's see if I got this right. We were playing that crazy game last night, which you two were particularly bad at. Orihime messed up, again, and sort of flopped into Ichigo in a fit of giggles. And then Ichigo was giggling back. I said you two made a cute couple. Then..." She groaned and screwed her eyes shut in frustration. "Everything's still a bit fuzzy... but Keigo freaked out and Ishida said, or shouted, actually, that you two should get married already." Tatsuki let a tiny smirk tug up a corner of her lips. "And then Ichigo, you dramatically fell to one knee and proposed like you were a drunken Don Juan."

Ichigo winced and felt himself turning red. He wanted to deny it, but really, she was being kind in her description.

"Then we all headed to the nearest chapel thing, then that hotel down the road, and Ishida flashed around his credit card like some big shot and paid for the room. If I remember correctly, you two could hardly keep your hands off each other."

Ichigo waited, stiffening his muscles, for the onslaught that was surely going to come. So he was shocked when Tatsuki's eyes sparkled devilishly and her face cracked into an impish grin as she asked, "So, did you guys do it?"

His mouth fell open and he heard Orihime do a squeak-gasp combo.

"T-Tatsuki!"

Their mutual supposed friend burst out laughing and even started clapping as she rocked back and forth on the bed.

"Oh you totally did! You finally nailed him, Orihime!"

Ichigo could only stare in mute shock at the thumbs up they were being given.

When Tatsuki started to calm down while wiping at tears she started waving her hand at Ichigo. "Better go back to your room and change into something else and let Orihime change. I wanna talk to her, anyway."

Before he knew it, he was ushered out the door and automatically headed down the hall to the room he shared with Chad and Ishida. He pulled the key out of his wallet and carefully slid it into the electronic slot. Chad was sprawled out on the sofa bed, fast asleep with one shoe still on. Ishida was sleeping with his head at the foot of the bed, bedclothes pulled tight around his chin, but leaving his legs bare.

Ichigo felt a funny empty tug in his gut, and he realized he really missed the fluffy pink and red room and the practically naked, not to mention at times completely nude, Orihime. Her softly bright presence, her scent, her funny little noises, her warm skin...

He blinked and shook himself. Not now.

Ichigo crept over to the closet and then his suitcase, piling his things into his arms before heading to the bathroom, dumping them on the counter, and turning the knobs in the bath. While he undressed, he tried to figure out if that was really his childhood friend back there. The friend he knew was overly protective of her best friend and would filet him alive for what he had done last night.

He flipped the water over to the shower head and stepped in, letting the water hit his chest. When he turned around, he winced slightly at the hot water hitting his back and the resulting sting. Ichigo felt his mouth curve up without his permission as he remembered the scratches.

And what was that Tatsuki had said? 'You finally nailed him, Orihime'? What the hell did that mean?

Orihime wondered why the universe was so cruel as to not provide portable deep, dark holes which a person could dive into when the need arose.

"Tatsuki... Why did you say that?"

"Say what?" asked her grinning best friend.

"Th-That I finally...nailed him..."

"Because you did! I mean, probably not ideal." She waved her hands nonchalantly. "Drunk and Vegas marriage and all, but hey, I did nothing to stop it and who am I to judge. You two are finally together!"

"B-But..."

Tatsuki went on. "So what if I say you nailed him? You did! You finally confessed your feelings, you guys got married AND sealed the deal. Does it matter what anyone says at this point.?"

Orihime clasped her fingers tightly, watching as they turned white. "Tatsuki, I... I didn't confess..."

Thick silence abruptly cloaked the room.

"...Eh?"

"I didn't confess and... we did... but... but we're not together... exactly."

When Orihime finally managed to look at Tatsuki's face, it was staring at her in shock.

"You mean... you slept together." Orihime flinched. "But you didn't confess." She gave a small nod. "And you're not together. Meaning last night was, what? A typical one night stand in Vegas that needs to be annulled as soon as possible?"

Orihime bit her lip and stared at the floor as she tried to force back the ridiculous tears she felt pricking at the backs of her eyes.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"No..." Orihime cleared her throat and headed towards her suitcase, silently but sternly informing her backbone that it needed to do a flawless impression of a steel rod. "Do you know anything about getting a-annulments? How much do they cost? How long do they take to get?" She needed to move on and get through this and think optimistically. Hardly noticing that her best friend was unusually silent behind her or that the door was opening and closing, Orihime began to mentally tick off the positive things as she moved around.

She had lost her virginity to and spent an amazing, albeit still a bit fuzzy, night with the love of her life. She is, for the moment, married to the love of her life. Both things she thought were completely impossible, but now they had happened and were happening.

Orihime paused in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at Ichigo's jacket drowning her. She turned away, but couldn't help but hug it to her body, burying her nose into the collar.

However, her heart broke a little at each of the positives. Because the love of her life had been her first and she would never have him again. Plus, she was ruined for any other man. All the drinking last night made things a bit murky in her memory, but she knew she was nearly sober by the time they had tumbled into that hotel room and onto that bed. And she felt and heard everything. Every touch, every groan, every whisper, every emotion, every explosion; all of it. Every time she thought about it, something deep inside flipped over and melted. And her heart felt like it would burst from both happiness and pain.

Plus, she knew, knew that she could never love anyone as deeply and completely as she loved Ichigo. That the Ichigo-shaped space in her heart would never go away, at least never completely.

Yet despite that particular intuitive knowledge that was as old as before Hueco Mundo, she had tried during college.

She went on her first date, and to her guilt, could not stop wishing the unsuspecting boy sitting across from her was him. Eventually, she got mostly over that feeling and dated in earnest.

She had her first kiss, but again was overwhelmed with guilt because she unfairly could not stop thinking about him. Orihime assumed she would eventually get over that too and be able to move on to the next level with someone. She had not intentionally stayed a virgin throughout her entire college career. No one could say she had not honestly tried to give up her heart and body to some nice boy. Or at least thought about it to the point of attempting to plan it out strategically.

She stepped into the shower, reluctant to wash away the last of Ichigo's scent.

And married. In Vegas. Now they would have to go through the annulment process. Was it a short process or would it be long and awkward? Well, it would be awkward either way, and painful, but better short than long.

Most importantly, what did this do to their friendship? Orihime had loved being on the same campus as him, continuing to see him every day almost like in high school, although she could not deny she had been worried about whether they would grow apart after college. But this was not just growing apart, this was taking a maniacal chainsaw to the ties between them.

Orihime finally let the tears fall free as her guts twisted, the streaming water washing away the evidence. Her friends were the most important things to her in this world, and Ichigo was on a completely different level. Not a higher one, maybe, but a different one. The most sweet and the most bitter, and now it was shattered.

Ichigo stepped out of his hotel room which still contained his sleeping friends and carefully closed the door. He was just starting down the hall, trying to figure out what the next step was when he noticed a small but familiar and very powerful fist headed his way. As Ichigo went flying backwards and landed on his ass, the thought that went through his mind was, Ah, here's the Tatsuki I know and love.

It was almost a relief to see his childhood friend looming over him with eyes blazing, legs wide, and shaking fists clenching at her sides. He had had no idea how to deal with a lecherously grinning Tatsuki.

He put his hand to his aching jaw and dared to ask, "Now what?"

"N-Now what?!" He could practically see the smoke billowing out of her ears. "You fuck my best friend and all you have to say is 'now what'?!"

Ichigo immediately felt his own temper flare up and bounced to his feet. "Keep your damn voice down. And in case you've forgotten, she's my friend too. Also, what the hell? Ten minutes ago you were about to start popping champagne! Finally, do not call what we did last night fucking!"

Tatsuki blinked when he spat out the last word and appeared to back off slightly with a little rise of her eyebrow.

He remembered something else and ground out the question that would not stop nagging at the back of his head. "By the way, you wanna tell me what the hell that 'finally nailing Ichigo' comment was about?" He could feel the back of his neck reddening, but he had to know.

Tatsuki's body language had now completely relaxed into thoughtful interest. Ichigo shifted under her examination, struggling to keep up his anger, but flustered by her sudden gear shift.

"So if it wasn't fucking, what was it?"

Ichigo started and felt the heat climb into his ears. "What? Answer my question first!"

He squinted at her as what looked like amusement flashed over her eyes.

"Would you call it screwing?" she inquired.

Ichigo felt his eye twitch.

"Hm, no. Just having sex?"

"Tatsuki..."

"So, I suppose you would call what you and Orihime did 'making love'?"

He felt his face burst into flames.

"Bingo!"

"No bingo! There is no bingo! That... It's just... Embarrassing, damn it! What the hell does it matter what it's called? Answer my question!"

"Well just a few moments ago it seemed extremely important to you what I called it."

Tatsuki had that deliberately ornery look on her face and he wanted to slap her. Except he didn't slap women. Monkey's balls.

She was frowning at him again. "So are you going to get an annulment?"

Annulment? Right. He had thought of that earlier. And had decided that they needed to get one and soon. Except that when someone said the word out loud it felt like a lance through his heart. But of course they had to get an annulment. That was the logical thing. They couldn't stay married.

Or could they?

Tatsuki's low whistle brought him back to earth. "What I wouldn't give to see inside your head right now. So you're not getting an annulment?"

"I... what? I mean, well, of course we'll have to... to get one. We can't stay like this, can we?"

"Are you actually asking me? Because yeah, you could."

"That's ridiculous! I can't shackle Orihime like that!"

"Uh-huh. So you don't mind if you're the one being shackled?"

"Stop twisting my words!"

A low, smooth voice sounded behind Ichigo. "Stop making your words so intriguingly and easily twistable, Kurosaki."

Ichigo whirled around to find a shockingly put-together looking Ishida, considering the state he had just left him in. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough. No matter. I remember everything from last night quite clearly."

Ichigo groaned.

"And I want to know why you and Inoue-san are wasting my money by fooling around here."

"Nobody asked you to pay for anything!"

Ishida stiffened and raised an eyebrow. "I was being an excellent friend by providing a honeymoon suite for your reckless marriage. Excuse me."

The door closed with a firm click.

"I think you hurt his feelings."

"Tch, he doesn't have any feelings to hurt."

Tatsuki rolled her eyes. "But he had a point. You and Orihime should just go back to the room and use it."

"What?!"

"I am going to spend a nice quiet day at the pool and you two hash out your own problems." She turned her back on him to leave, but then looked back. "By the way, about the Orihime finally nailing you comment. Think about it Ichigo. For once, use that bean-sized brain of yours and think about that phrase and all the implications. Think of all the roads it could take you down and for the love of all that is holy take them." She started down the hallway to his room. "That's as far as I stick my nose into it."

Ichigo gaped at her retreating form. What the hell kind of answer was that? And she had already stuck her nose in pretty far, why stop now? He tugged at his hair in frustration as Tatsuki knocked and was let into his room.

Wait... His room. Why was she going to his room?

He eyed the door suspiciously, curious and worried, but not enough to want to submit himself to anymore insanity.

The sound of a door opening made him turn to look down the opposite way. He felt a tightening in his chest at the sight of long caramel hair swaying against a back that he knew far more intimately than he should.

She turned and jumped in surprise when she saw him, crushing his previously perfectly folded jacket to her chest and looking all around the hall, everywhere except him. The carpeting seemed to be singularly fascinating to her.

Damn it. Is this how it was going to be between them from now on? Would they ever get past this?

He was vaguely aware of a door opening and shutting behind him, but was too focused on Orihime to sense what would have been on ominous feeling. There was a pinch at his neck and then everything went black.

"Kurosaki-kun!"

"Never mind, Orihime." Tatsuki was waving dismissively at her while Chad hoisted an unconscious Ichigo over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?!"

Ishida addressed her as the group headed towards her. "Do not worry, Inoue-san. Kurosaki will be perfectly fine in a few minutes." He glanced quickly over at the imposing figure walking beside him. "Or perhaps an hour would be more accurate. Either way, he will be fine. We are simply ushering things along."

Orihime squeaked as Tatsuki took her firmly by the arm as they passed without stopping, nearly dragging her along.

"Ushering? Where are we going?"

"Back to your love hotel," Tatsuki replied.

"...Eh?"

Inoue Orihime, Kurosaki-kun has been unconscious for over half an hour. Your friends have locked you both up in a newlywed suite. You are in, if not the biggest crisis, the most awkward crisis of your life. Therefore, this is NO time to be drooling over how sexy he is!

She had tried everything to get him to wake up, but whatever Chad did was really potent. And so she had way too much available time to stare at him, peacefully laying on the bed. Too much time available to take in every detail, uninhibited.

Actually, she was just a little proud of herself at how she had been able to hold back from doing things like smoothing the slight little frown on his forehead. Or running her fingers along the strong line of his jaw and tracing the muscles and cords in his neck.

Orihime felt herself frowning accusingly at the sleeping figure. He was blissfully unaware, just laying there in that silly black t-shirt that stretched over every muscle and letting those arms of his just dangle and flex out in the open, not attempting to hide a thing from girls' lecherous gazes. And those jeans. Nobody asked him to wear his stupid, sexy jeans.

He was not fair.

She supposed she didn't have to sit right next to him on the bed and torture herself as much as possible, but then again, she was protecting him. From... rolling off. Yes. Must protect Ichigo from rolling off of the bed.

A low groan ripped her attention away from the sliver of tanned skin showing between his shirt and the belt of his jeans.

Ichigo lifted his hand to his aching head and opened his eyes slightly to see a very familiar ruffled canopy. How many times was he going to wake up in this bed with a headache?

Orhime's face suddenly popped into view, her long hair falling around him. He was a rotten person because his first thought was to wonder, hopefully, if she was naked again.

"K-Kurosaki-kun? Are you all right?"

Why was her voice breathy like that? He didn't like it. It did funny things to his gut.

He slowly sat up on one elbow and bent his head down as he rubbed the sore spot on his neck. "I'm..." Legs. Long, luxurious legs sitting on the edge of the bed not a foot from his face. Ichigo glanced up to see she was wearing dark blue jean shorts. Over those she wore a long, loose-fitted blue and white striped tank top with a khaki-colored cargo vest, her hairpins slipped onto one of the breast pockets. Well, as loose-fitted as things could be on Orihime's chest.

Ichigo blinked away from staring at her. He knew it was hot outside, but that was no excuse for wearing so little. Even though he knew perfectly well that she was perfectly modest and it was just him, the horny bastard, that was the problem here.

He managed to sit upright and give her nod. "I think I'll be fine."

"Oh. Good... Oh!"

She seemed to suddenly realize she was still hovering over him and nearly leapt off the bed.

"So, uh, what happened?" He was getting tired of waking up clueless.

Orihime licked her lips nervously. "Well, Sado-kun knocked you out and then he and Ishida-kun and Tatsuki-chan took you and me back here and now we're trapped in here until the trip is over. I thought for sure someone would stop and ask us why we were carrying an unconscious person around, but all we got were some funny looks!"

"...Eh?"

He followed her downwards gaze to her bare toes that curled nervously in the carpet. "Tatsuki-chan wanted you to call her as soon as you woke up."

"She thinks she trapped us in here? Like hell!" He muttered to himself as he stood up and dug around in his pockets for his phone, yanking it out and pressing her number.

"Have a nice nap, Ichigo-chaan?"

"No, I did not, you bitch." He was practically growling into the phone. "What the hell have you done?"

"Well, Ishida, Chad, and I quickly decided that we don't wanna spend the rest of our precious trip watching you two awkwardly dance around each other. I want pools and fake Eiffel towers, not angst. So, we trapped you two in that room together so you can work everything out on your own." Her tone dropped to a mutter. "I don't know why you didn't just stay in there in the first place instead of bothering us."

Without thinking, Ichigo barked, "Well we might have if you hadn't called and interrupted!"

What the hell did he just say?

There was silence on the other end and he swore he could feel his new cellmate's shocked and curious gaze on his back.

"Oh, really?" The smirk was oozing through the phone. "How very interesting. Well, consider this my token of apology."

"No way! You're being ridiculous. You can't trap us in a hotel room."

"Oh yes I can," she said gleefully. "The clerk at the front was extremely helpful and put two bodyguards in front of your door to keep you in. Now, I know you could easily take them, blindfolded and with both hands tied behind your back, and be on your merry way, but do you really wanna beat up two perfectly innocent gentlemen? Plus, we're foreigners here! You might start a diplomatic nightmare! Don't be rash Ichigo. And think of how Orihime feels. She'd be so hurt if you started beating up strangers just to get away from her. So cruel!"

Ichigo forced himself to relax his grip so he wouldn't break his phone.

"Oh yes, you have no pills, no badges, no gizmos, so no leaping out of your body for you. And don't worry, Ishida is perfectly happy to pay for room service in exchange for a peaceful end to the trip."

"Tatsuki..."

"What? Enunciate, Ichigo. I can barely understand you with all that growling."

"..."

"Nothing to say? Oh, by the way. Don't worry, if you guys start making certain noises, the bodyguards will leave and give you your privacy."

"D-Damn it, you!"

"Oh, come on, Ichigo. Do you know how many guys at school would have given their right arm to be locked up with Orhime in a hotel room for two nights? Keigo woke up when we got back and is still weeping buckets."

He was so frustrated at this point, he couldn't speak.

"Well, anyway. I'll be turning off my phone. Buh-bye! Give me to Orihime first."

Ichigo slowly lowered the phone and then stuck it out towards her. "She wants to talk to you."

He felt her cool fingers lightly brush his when she took the phone from his hand. Tiny electric shocks shot up through his arm at her touch, just to confirm to him that he was trapped in hell, in case he wasn't utterly sure before.

Orhime lifted the hot phone to her ear, eyes on Ichigo's stiff back and shaking fists. She closed her eyes as she spoke. "Tatsuki, why?"

"You know perfectly well why. I'm not going to let you lose your one chance. Especially when it's obvious to me that he... Well, never mind. Anyway, I have your phone safe and sound and Ichigo's phone should lose battery power any minute now, and I know neither of you have any of our numbers memorized, so you can't terrorize us, but I just wanna tell you to do one thing..."

"Yes?"

"CONFESS, DAMMIT!"

Orihime spun around to put her back to Ichigo cupping her hand over her mouth and the phone and whispering. "T-Tatsuki! I can't do that!"

"Of course you can. I mean, you held back because you didn't want to ruin your friendship, but look it's probably already in shambles as it is."

Orihime felt her whole body go lax in defeat. "It is?"

Tatsuki cheerfully replied, "Yup! So just go ahead and confess. Can't get any worse, can it?"

She could only groan.

"Look, you went through all of high school and college without so much as having a crush on any other guy. You've got to at least give this lunkhead a shot. Might as well since your friendship will never recover."

"Tatsuki, please stop saying that..."

"No, I will keep saying it so that you DO something. And think about it, Ichigo was the one to propose last night, so maybe somewhere in there..."

Orihime resented Tatsuki a little right then for making hope rise up in her chest.

"And if you can't say the words, just do what I told you to do long ago and which you've already done anyway. Just drag him to that bed and jump his bon-!"

The phone beeped loudly in her ear and then went dead.

Orihime swallowed as she held the thing in her hand for a moment before turning around. She jumped slightly, not expecting him to be sitting on the bed and looking right at her.

"Um, the phone died... I'm sorry..."

He stood and took it from her, tossing it onto the soft, white couch. "Not your fault."

Orihime looked at the lifeless black rectangle in the cushions, her mind feeling blank and overwhelmed. "S-So we're really stuck here?"

"Yeah." He jerked his chin towards the door. "Got a couple of guards stationed out there."

"Oh, I see."

All right. Her fist clenched. She could do this. It would be a challenge, but somehow she would get through this. Ichigo seemed extremely unhappy to be with her, but that's fine. It is far from being the first time she had been stuck with people who clearly did not want to be with her. She would power through! She would-

"What should we do now?"

She felt the blood rapidly climb up her neck, all the way to her hairline before her brain even had time to process that it was diving into the gutter. The headlines of tomorrow's paper would read, 'Girl Dies In Hotel From Over-Active Perverted Mind'. And then the article would serve as a warning to young people against booze and loud music. How would she face her brother in Soul Society? What would she say to anyone who asked how she died? But then... she forgot her life here when she died, right? But Rukia and everyone would know. And Ichigo. Oh. Well. Maybe she would be sent to some far off, highly populated district where no one would find her...

In the mean time, her stomach growled for attention. She clasped her arms around her waist. If it was possible for her to get any redder...

"Ah, right. That's a good place to start." Ichigo turned to where the menu was kept on a nearby table. His face was also flushed, she noticed. Why was his face red? She quickly decided it was probably because he was angry.

He plopped down on the couch, scowling at the menu in his hand. "What do you feel like?"

You.

No. Inoue Orihime definitely did not just have that thought.

"Um, anything is fine. Really."

He casually beckoned her. "Come look at if for yourself and get what you want."

She went over to the couch and primly sat next to him, glancing at the menu in his hand. It was all in English, which she was okay at, but she picked what seemed to be the safest thing at first glance. "Um, pizza?"

"Okay. Wanna share one?"

Orihime nodded and busied herself with plucking the phone out of the cushions and placing it on the coffee table while Ichigo got up, and she tried not to sniff at his trailing scent like a horny cocker spaniel. She wondered if she would ever get used to the heady smell of soap and Ichigo.

"Breadsticks?"

She jerked out of her reverie. Ichigo was waiting with the room phone in his hand. "Y-Yes, please."

He turned his back to her as he ordered.

And she was not staring at his butt. Nope.

"Anchovies, jalapenos, pepperoni and extra cheese..."

Orihime smiled as he ordered. A couple of years ago, she had finally gotten her friends to try her favorite pizza topping combo, and to her delight they had loved it. Especially Ichigo, whom she never saw eat any other kind of pizza.

"Yes. And breadsticks. Extra butter."

He was even remembering her love for butter at a time like this. She tried to stop her smile from turning into a trembling chin and biting lips, but she couldn't help it. He simply did not play fair. If only he wasn't so gut-wrenchingly handsome. Or if he didn't have all those wonderfully fascinating expressions that she used to love to doodle in her notebook in high school. Okay, still doodled in her notebook. If he would just be a selfish jerk instead of such a great person and an even better friend. How many people could say that they had a friend who did the things he did for her and his other friends?

He just did not play fair.

"Repeat that? ...Oh, drinks. Inoue, what do you want to drink?"

"Um, coke is fine."

"Two cokes."

Oh, he wasn't perfect, in the technical sense of the word. She knew that. Objectively. But he was perfect to her. And it was just so frustrating. And heartbreaking. And... ugh. Just one big ugh. She wanted this trip to be over, and she never wanted it to end. Because that meant the end of them, didn't it? The official end. And she really had no idea how she would get through it. She would get through it, of course. She always did. But did she have to? Just this once couldn't she...

"Okay. Thank you."

Ichigo hung up the phone too soon. Orihime quickly found an intense interest in the tiny stitching of the cushion in order to gather herself back into one piece.

"They said it will be here in twenty minutes."

Orihime felt panic twist in her chest. An eternity full of nothing to do but awkwardly wait for food.

She put on her big smile, so big that her eyes closed and she couldn't see him. "Yay! Thank you."

The cushion beside her sank, and her gut sank with it. She felt her feet automatically press perfectly together, her spine straighten, and her hands place themselves perfectly but tightly together on her lap. He was sitting next to her? Really? Didn't the chair on the other side of the room seem like a much more comfortable spot? Right, Kurosaki-kun?

"So..."

No, don't say "so" like that, she silently begged. "So" meant the beginning of awkward and painful conversations. "So" meant the end of things. The end of worlds. The end of time!

"...we have pretty crazy friends, huh, Inoue?"

"Yes, pretty crazy, eh heh heh."

She stole a glance over at him. He was slouched back against the couch, his long body seeming to barely fit on it, with hands stuck in his pockets. His legs were spread out in front of him, one socked heel softly tapping on the carpet.

No more glances. Glances were bad for the heart. She worked on wracking her brain for a topic. Any topic. If there was one thing she was good at, it was finding topics to fill up awkward silences.

Figures that the one thing she was really good at would fail her at the most crucial moment.

When she could no longer handle the heat radiating from the body next to her, she bounded off the couch, her hands clasped tightly behind her.

"I think I'll go introduce myself to our bodyguards."

"You mean jailers," he muttered.

She heard an awkward laugh struggle out of her throat. "Right, Kurosaki-kun. Maybe we'll be getting moldy bread and water instead of anchovy pizza."

She wasn't sure what she expected when she flung the door open, but there they were, spinning right in front of her and blocking the way. The two men were huge, as big as Chad, maybe bigger, with expressions that were even more stoic than his.

"H-Hello."

"Konnichiwa, Inoue-san!" they replied in unison.

"Ah! They know my name already," she said to herself. "Um, Your names?"

They blinked at her and then one responded. "Tom."

"John."

"Nice to meet you, Tom and John." She beamed at them and was relieved to see them smile a little. Their smiles almost immediately dropped and they stiffened at the same time she felt that body heat she had just attempted to escape make a reappearance right behind her.

"Tom and John, huh?"

Did he have to stand right behind her? And couldn't he just shut and lock the door and sweep her into his arms while he was at it?

"Konnichiwa, Kurosaki-san!"

He bent down and mumbled over her shoulder, his breath hitting her ear. "I think that's the only Japanese they know."

Why, god? Why torture me?

Suddenly, a wonderful smell hit her nose. Besides Ichigo, that is. She bobbed and weaved until she could see beyond the man-wall. A cart was coming towards their room. Could it be? Already?

It stopped behind the guards and the employee spoke briefly to the guards before they let her pass.

Ichigo stared at the cart as it rolled past them and Orihime was clapping and practically dancing on her toes. He knew few people who got as excited about food as she did. But it had only been five minutes since he had hung up the phone. He knew. He had been counting the seconds.

The employee rushed out as soon as she sat the things on the low coffee table. Including an opened bottle of wine with two goblets. He had not ordered wine. And where were the cokes? But she was long gone and the door shut before he had a chance to ask anything.

Orihime appeared to be too hungry and too excited to even notice the wine and lifted the silver dome with a flourish, her favorite pizza displayed below.

Ichigo quickly forgot the wine as he felt his mouth salivating. He hadn't realized how hungry he was. At least for once it was drooling over actual food instead of the girl who was plopping her bum on the floor in front of the table and crossing her bare legs.

"Itadakimasu!" She plucked out a note from between the napkins and read it while she bit into a buttery breadstick. "Mmph! It's from Tashuki-shan!" Her face turned red after her eyes skimmed the note and she coughed on her bread before looking frantically around. Probably for a place to destroy it.

Against his better judgement, he took the note from her fingers. It read: "Thought you might need some fuel for the sleepless nights ahead and some liquid courage to get you started. Enjoy!" It was signed Tatsuki with a face doodle adorned by little devil horns. She and Rukia were so alike sometimes, it was downright frightening.

He folded the note into a tight little square and tossed it into the nearest wastebasket. The phone rang just then and he loped over to answer it. What happened to no interruptions?

"Hello?"

"Ah, the Kurosakis. Hope I'm not interrupting anything?" Unmanly giggles followed.

The crazy clerk. He was still here? Or back? He reminded Ichigo entirely too much of hat and clogs.

"What do you want?"

"Just wondering if you got your lunch, okay. I canceled your other one, so don't worry. Coke indeed," he chastised. "You won't be getting those I'm afraid."

"Why you- Is this a prison or a hotel?"

He practically sang his reply with glee. "Today it is a prison, Kurosaki-san."

Was this the only desk employee in the hotel who spoke Japanese? Why did he have to be subjected to this? He hung up the phone without replying and plopped down in front of the table across from Orihime.

"We're stuck with the wine."

"O-Okay."

Were they trying to give them alcohol poisoning? He grumpily poured the wine in each glass, muttering under his breath about meddling idiots. Finally, he grabbed a piece of pizza and shoved it in his mouth. Ichigo nearly groaned as the flavors hit his tongue. His love for this crazy pizza was amplified by his hunger. Who knew that the pizza he had wrinkled his nose at for years would turn out to be one of his favorite things?

Orihime's taste in food was like that, he had learned over time. She thought up some pretty off-the-beaten-path flavor combinations and they usually didn't look very good, but most of the time they were actually pretty delicious.

He glanced over at her as he devoured the pizza. She was eating hers with even more relish.

Well, at least they had something to do so he wasn't contemplating filling the awkward silences with the sounds of swishing bedsheets and moa-

Oh, look, a delicious breadstick.

He was a doomed man. He was going to do something stupid, he just knew it. How the hell was he supposed to survive this? And again, shorts! Why shorts?! Her usual long, floral patterened skirts probably would not have made much of a difference in his horniness, but it would be better than damn shorts.

He grabbed at the wine and took a swig. His eyes ended up straying over to Orihime again just as she took a delicate sip of hers. Was it really necessary to be so damned pretty when drinking?

They silently polished off the food, both being careful not to drink too much wine. He helped her gather up the tray and took it to the door. Orihime opened it and the two guards quickly spun to create a wall.

"Yeah, just putting the tray out." He put it out in front of him with raised eyebrows. They seemed to get the message, and one took it while the other shut the door on them.

"Right, well..."

Their eyes met right then, and the panic he saw was probably a mirror of his expression. Now what? He watched her do a little awkward spin-hop, and move towards the table where the rest of the wine and the goblets sat. If that was her idea, it wasn't a bad one. Get drunk again and...

Never mind. Terrible idea. Great, but terrible.

Damn it, he had been counting at least on her usual chipper talkativeness, but even she was tongue-tied. If Orihime couldn't even make up games and songs to pass the time, how on earth was he expected to get through this?

He glanced out the windows at the overcast sky. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.

"Hey, Inoue."

"Yes?"

"You remember in high school when you would jump out the school window and scale down the water pipe?"

"Um, yes, but..."

"What if-"

"Kurosaki-kun," she interrupted. "Our school was two stories. This hotel is twenty stories and we're on the floor below the penthouse. I don't have Tom Cruise's electromagnetic gloves so I'd, um, die."

"Oh..."

"Sorry..."

"No, no. It was a stupid idea."

The sound of wine being poured filled the room.

That's a brilliant idea though. He made his way to the table and she looked up at him a little sheepishly as she sipped from her glass. Ichigo managed a small smirk at her and hoped it conveyed understanding.

He filled his glass and drank as he moved around the room, looking for some way out. He knew he shouldn't. What he should be doing is figuring out what to say, how to fix this. Losing Orihime as a friend was unthinkable. He simply was not going to allow that to happen.

So if he had no intention of moving backwards, and it seemed impossible to stay as they had been before, then the only option left was to move forwards. As in... more than friends. He stole another glance at the girl across the room and then scoffed at himself. Like she would want something like that with him. She was probably hoping that they could get out of here soon so she could move on with her life and let him fade into the background of old acquaintances.

He immediately dismissed the thought, though, because he knew her. Orihime valued friendships above all else. She had demonstrated that to all of them time and again.

The wine was having zero effect on him and his inner storm.

Unintentionally, what Tatsuki had said dropped into his head. The "finally nailing" stuff and something about thinking of all the implications and taking roads.

If she was trying to tell him that Orihime was interested in him as more than a friend, she was off her rocker. That just was not possible. Even if he did have vivid memories that refused to go away like them tumbling into this very room and her, Orihime, shoving him into that wall over there and kissing him like...like... Well, there were no words.

She had probably been thinking he was some other guy at the time. Except that had definitely been his name, his given name, she had moaned and no one else's.

Ichigo screwed his eyes shut and took another drink.

If he was being honest with himself, really honest, he would say he was glad last night had happened. Thrilled beyond belief, actually. All because of that little thing that had been jerking him around for the past few years. That thing that made his heart leap every time he saw her, no matter how short or how long it had been. That thing that made him feel like the blood was draining out of his body whenever he heard that she was dating someone. That thing that made even the littlest details about her stick to his brain. That thing that he had to keep pushing down or he might start getting ideas like asking her out himself. That little thing that made him want to be insane and forget anything about annulments and do exactly what their perverted friends were suggesting for the rest of the trip.

He snuck another peek over his goblet. She had her back to him and was on tip-toe, examining some abstract art piece. Her bottom swayed as she kept her balance and the muscles in her legs moved and stretched under her skin. He remembered exactly what they felt like, moving beneath his hands.

Ichigo groaned under his breath and downed the rest of his wine in one gulp before nearly slamming it down on a small end table. He had to find a way out of here before he pounced on her.

Orihime jumped and twirled around at the sound of his glass..

"I'm going to get us out of here." Ichigo was practically growling as he paced the room. "There's got to be a way out."

As she watched, she took bigger gulps of her wine. There was no way out. She had looked while he had been unconscious. There was no use in telling him because he would have to look for himself anyway, so she quietly let him.

But... even though she had looked herself. Even though a big screaming part of her wanted out too, she could not help feeling hurt as she watched him angrily rummage around, pressing against windows and searching in the bathroom. Was it so bad to spend a couple of days with her? Was it so bad to even consider the possibility of something more with her? Was it that repulsive? Then why did he even bother being friends with her if she was so disgusting?

Somewhere in a small, deep part, Orihime knew she was being affected by the wine and was being irrational. She tried to take another gulp, but the glass was empty.

A bigger part of her was reveling in the frustration, in the little bit of anger. Maybe because it was something else other than the awkward, nervous, horny, heartbroken feelings she had had to deal with for the past few hours.

She looked at him staring accusingly at the only way out, probably debating whether he would rather be the cause of WWIII or spend the next forty-eight hours cooped up with her. WWIII was probably looking like the better option.

And that was that.

Whether it was the frustration from so many things, being scared out of her mind that their friendship was permanently damaged, the anger at herself for making such a big mistake and not being able to figure out a way to fix it, anger and hurt at Ichigo for being so obviously terrified at the idea of being locked up with her, the wine effecting her brain, or the hurricane combination of all the above, she wasn't sure. But before she knew it, everything had built up so much that words were spilling out, and she couldn't stop them.

"Is being locked up with me for two days that h-horrifying to you? Would you rather I was Aizen? W-Would that be more fun? Easier to swallow?"

He had turned his gaze from the door to her, his expression shocked. Even as she spoke, she knew she was being irrational and ungrateful. She knew he didn't really deserve this. She knew her words would probably ruin everything and make the next two days even worse. But at that precise moment, she simply did not care. Because really, wasn't it like Tatsuki said? Weren't they already finished? Maybe it would be best if he hated her. If he was completely horrified by her. It should make it easier for him to forget her, right? Then they could spend the next couple of days blatantly ignoring each other instead of the stress of feigning politeness. Orihime ignored the cracking in her heart.

And anyway, she had things to say.

"You know what?" she continued. "I'm glad last night happened." She stuck her chin in the air. "I'm glad, do you understand? I'm happy you were my first. I'm thrilled that I finally n-nailed you. In fact, I'd do it again in a heartbeat! I'm ecstatic that we get married. It's crazy, but I'm happy about it anyways. How many girls get to say that they got to be with and marry the stupid sexy guy they've loved since high school? I feel pretty lucky! So maybe you're not too thrilled about any of this. Maybe you're disgusted, but I'm not."

She was barely aware of his tall form moving towards her as something was blurring her vision.

"So we're stuck with each other for a while in the same room. W-What's so bad about that? Am I that boring? Well, I understand if that's how you f-feel, but-"

Her soap box was suddenly interrupted by warm arms encircling her and pulling her into an even warmer body. Ichigo was saying something, but he sounded so hoarse she could barely understand. She squinted her eyes in concentration.

"...Thank god... Damn it, Orihime..."

How irritating. She was not finished with her soap box. Her soap box rarely saw the light of day, but when it did, people usually listened. They usually looked shocked and then she would either leave them in their shocked silence or she would crack a silly joke to lighten the atmosphere. People never wrapped their arms around her, drowning her in their warmth and their scents. They did not whisper nonsense in her ear. And they certainly did not wipe at her cheeks with their rough thumbs. She had had a plan. Operation Push Away Ichigo. This wasn't part of the plan. Granted, it had been an impromptu plan and probably therefore was probably full of holes. Plans had to carefully planned and plotted in an enclosed room with maps and push-pins.

What had she been saying?

Orihime stared at the stupid chest muscles beneath his shirt. Those were tears his thumbs had been wiping at, she realized. Why did she have to cry all the time? She cried when she was sad. She cried when she was happy. She cried when she was angry. It was so irritating.

She furrowed her eyebrows, but her chin trembled and she felt more tears well up. Why was he being so nice to her? She wanted him to go away. But instead he was standing right in front of her, taking in all of her embarrassing acts, and kissing her forehead. That was very rude. Couldn't he tell that she needed a moment to collect herself? Ichigo was usually quite good at giving people their privacy when they needed it, so why was he still here pressing kisses to her cheek and then the other cheek and now her chin and -

Oh.

For a moment things seemed to nearly spin out of control, and then everything was brought in and focused on one thing; Ichigo's lips were on hers. Questions and confusion flooded her brain, but then they emptied almost as soon as they appeared when his fingers combed through her hair, tilting her head back and capturing her bottom lip.

Her body reacted on it's own, relieved to finally be doing what it had wanted to for years, that very desire having been exacerbated since last night. She in turn captured his top lip and lightly suckled, rising up on her toes to get closer. A familiar groan that echoed of last night vibrated against her mouth and down into her belly, heating everything in its path.

He pulled away slightly to turn his head and she murmured, "This operation has been cancelled..." She felt his pause and then his smile as he continued the kiss.

She curled her fingers into the fabric at his chest, pulling him closer, almost without realizing it. He wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her in tighter until she released his shirt and hugged his neck, their bodies pressed together almost completely. His tongue swept into her mouth, frantically stroking her own.

Orihime felt dizzy and foggy and hot. So hot, and yet she could not seem to get close enough to the heat from his body that had been driving her crazy. She let her hands explore the broad back and shoulders that bent over her. Her fingers scratched at the fabric, wanting to rip it off until she felt his skin again.

His lips lifted off of hers and dragged across her cheek to kiss at her ear, gently biting at her lobe and sending electric shocks straight to her sex. She heard herself whimper and bit lightly on the exposed neck in front of her.

"Trying to mark me again, Orihime?"

Her eyes flew wide open and she immediately unlatched her teeth from his neck and relaxed her fingers on his back.

"A-Again?"

She had marked him? How? Where?

She wasn't sure he was going to answer her at first nor was she sure she cared since he had decided to kiss his way down the side of her neck.

Her toes curled tightly in the lush carpet when he replied against her shoulder, his low voice sending tremors to her core. "I woke up with scratches all over my back."

The alarm she felt at hurting him nearly melted away when he bit and sucked on the skin at the base of her neck. "I-I'm sorry... Does it hurt?" She slid her hands down and unconvincingly pushed on him, her voice breathy. "Let me heal you."

She felt his mouth curl up next to her jaw as he held on to her tightly. "Not really and thanks, but no. I like them." He nipped at her ear lobe again. Why did that feel so incredible? It was her ear for heaven's sake. "I'd like more."

"More?" Her insides flip-flopped and melted at his implication.

"Anyway, I paid you back." He dropped his head again and kissed the spot he had just bitten.

Oh, she was in so much trouble. Since when was Ichigo so bold? What had changed from a few minutes ago when he had been pacing the room like he was a caged animal? Was it something she said?

What had she said? It was really difficult to remember since he was kissing her mouth again, twirling his tongue around hers. And then there was pushing and pulling, she wasn't sure who was doing what. The next thing she knew Ichigo was sitting on the couch and she was sitting on Ichigo, legs straddling his.

The sudden position seemed to jerk her out of her fog and she pushed herself off of his chest. Her heart tugged when his mouth sought hers for a moment in the empty space and she nearly gave in and met his sinful mouth, but her brain was clicking along at this point and simply had to know what was going.

"W-Wait, Kurosaki-kun."

Ichigo slowly opened his eyes and darkened amber gazed up at her beneath heavy eyelids and bunched eyebrows. Orihime gulped. It was time to get off of his lap. She attempted to wriggle off of him, but his hands quickly slid down and held her hips firmly in place. She froze. Since when were his hands so big?

"What's wrong?"

What was wrong? That was a good question. And answers were difficult to think of when his thumbs were massaging the sides of her hips. She finally managed to find her voice and her brain.

"Why?"

His hands stilled and let one side of his mouth lift up. "Because you said I was the stupid sexy guy you've loved since high school."

"Eh?"

"And because you said you were thrilled you finally nailed me."

"I said all that?" She now remembered she had, but she was hoping somehow he was making it up and bewitched her mind into thinking those were her words. But he only looked at her with a devious expression. She hadn't meant to confess to him like that. Treacherous mouth. In more ways than one.

"Also because you said you'd do it again in a heartbeat." He lightly squeezed her hips and she felt her legs give out and sink lower on to his. "So we're doing it again in a heartbeat."

"D-Doing it?"

She watched his smirk falter and he looked to the side, one hand leaving her hip to scratch at his cheek. "I mean... if you want to... that is... And the last reason is, uh, because I... feel the same way."

"Eh?"

Ichigo coughed and glanced up at her, finding the bottom of her vest to fiddle with. "What I mean is... I'm glad last night happened too. And I... Well, damn it, I think I've l-loved you for a long time now."

He chanced a glance up at her wide eyes before going back to playing with the fabric. Real smooth. He had been cocky enough when she was gripping him for dear life and making those sounds in his ear, but this talking stuff... He knew his face looked like a damn cherry.

"You're not just being nice?"

He barked out a short laugh that made her bounce a little on his legs. "No, I'm not that nice."

Her expression was doubtful. "Yes, you are, though."

"Really?"

She nodded emphatically, her long hair shaking and tumbling around her shoulders.

Nice? Well he would show her. He moved his hands up her slim waist and yanked her forward. She squeaked when she nearly fell on him, her hands just catching the back of the couch on either side of his head. He reached up and wrapped a hand behind her neck pulling until her hair fell in curtains around him, her shocked, red face hovering near his.

"If I'm just saying all this because I'm nice, then why the hell am I thinking like a crazy man and feeling like never seeing or hearing the word 'annulment' ever again?"

If possible, her eyes grew wider.

He buried his hand in her hair and watched her eyes start to glaze over.

"If I'm just being nice, I wouldn't be going crazy trying to get out of hotel room I've been trapped in with the girl I'm afraid if I spend one more minute with, I'll pounce and do to her what we did last night over and over again and never wanna leave this room."

She had been lowering her head closer and closer to his until she gasped against his mouth at his last words, jerking her head back.

"That's why you were trying so hard to get out?"

Why was she so far away? "Yeah."

"You're not disgusted?"

One eyebrow raised from it's scowling position. "No, you're right. I think you're totally disgusting. This is my funny way of showing repulsion."

He stretched up while pulling her head down, pressing his lips firmly against hers. The hand on her hip pulled her closer, but she didn't need much nudging. She took control and explored his mouth, bending over him as she brought her hips flush against his.

Both of his hands grasped her bottom and squeezed hard, his blunt nails scraping on the jean fabric. She moaned into his mouth and rolled her hips against his.

She was going to kill him. And he was going to let her.

"You don't think I'm boring?"

Teeth nipped at his chin and lips moved along his jaw towards his ear.

"Y-You're a yawn a minute."

She softly pulled on his ear lobe with her teeth, imitating what he had done to her. The fingers on her butt jerkily flexed in response to the heat that shot straight to his groin. So that's what that felt like.

"I'm sorry to be such a pain, Ichigo," she whispered in his ear, not sounding apologetic in the least.

Turning his head to the side, he recaptured her lips, immediately deepening the kiss. He tugged at the vest and she stuck her arms back behind her, letting the garment fall to the floor.

They shouldn't be doing this. Sure, they had feelings for each other. But weren't they supposed to date and stuff first? Last night could be chalked up to a mistake that would be repeated some time in the appropriate future. This was daylight and they were sober and there were no excuses.

Except that he was a punk with no self-control and would probably be put into an asylum before any "appropriate future" arrived. Except that he really felt as if they had been dating for years. And except for the fact that she was currently tilting his head back against the couch, running her fingers through his hair, softly digging into his scalp, and kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

So, fuck it.

He pulled her tight against him and spun them around, settling her down on the cushions. Her fingers caught in his shirt and pulled him down until their mouths were fused together again.

But seriously, he should make sure, shouldn't he? Just to be a... what was that word? Right, a gentleman.

Ichigo tore his mouth from hers, pushing himself up, his hands sinking into the cushion on either side of her face. Her chest was rapidly rising and falling beneath her tank top and it completely distracted him from what he was about to say.

Her hands were pulling harder on the front of his shirt. She frowned up at him in confusion. "I thought you were pouncing."

Whatever it was he was going to say probably wasn't important anyway. He fell onto his elbows and sank into her waiting mouth.

Orihime was tired of his shirt. It had been annoying her since they got here, and now it was annoying her exponentially more. She moved her hands to his back and pulled on it, bunching the fabric in her hands. Thankfully, he got the message and sat back, quickly grabbing the t-shirt by the hem and pulling it over his head, flinging it far away.

She immediately dragged her palms along his torso, watching her fingers bump over every muscle. Last night had been so frantic, she had hardly had a chance to really explore him. She wanted to taste every bit of him.

Before she could think about trying any Ichigo, his hands were slipping under her top, his mouth on hers again. She didn't know how she would ever get enough of his kisses. It was like she was starving again every time she tasted him.

A hand found her breast, cupping her through her bra and gently massaging. She could not stop the loud moan that left her throat. They were in a hotel room with people standing right outside. She needed to be quiet. But it was so difficult when he squeezed her a little harder. She really had no power over the way she shamelessly breathed his name when he pulled down the cup and her sensitive nipple was dragged along his palm. He had hardly touched her and she felt like she was going to spontaneously combust.

He stilled when she said his name. "Do you want me to stop?"

Was he crazy? "No!" That came out a little more forcefully than she intended.

Ichigo chuckled a little darkly and the sound caused heat to spread and curl in her chest. "Are you sure?" He pushed up her shirt over her chest and dropped his head to kiss between her breasts, lightly licking at the swell. "We can stop anytime you feel uncomfortable." His mouth suddenly covered her exposed nipple, pulling it in past his teeth.

Her hands flew to his head as her back arched off the couch, pushing into his face. She felt him smile around the captured breast. Since when was Ichigo so wicked?

He tugged her shirt up her arms. She released his head and let the fabric fall to the floor behind her. He pulled her up till she was nearly sitting, moving his hands to her back and finding the bra clasp. For a few moments, she was too busy tasting his shoulder to realize that his fingers were fumbling.

She pulled back a little to look at his face scowling in frustrated concentration. Her hand clapped to her mouth when a giggle escaped. His fingers stilled and his eyes darted to hers before looking quickly away in obvious embarrassment.

"It wasn't this difficult last night," he muttered.

Orihime reached back and batted his hands away, quickly slipping out the hooks. As soon as he saw the bra loosen, Ichigo hooked a finger behind the front and pulled it all the way down her arms, tossing it away. She curled her fingers into fists on her thighs, her face flushing as he stared.

"H-Haven't you seen me before?"

He suddenly took both of her breasts in his hands, thumbing her stiff nipples as he bent forward to kiss her shoulder.

"Last night it was too dark to see how far your down your blush goes."

"I-Ichigo!"

His lips reclaimed hers as one hand slid down her stomach, fingers sneaking underneath her shorts, playing with the waistband. She held onto his broad shoulders, almost afraid that if she didn't hold on, she would simply melt into a puddle.

He pulled his hand out and slid it down her thigh and back up. She pulled away from the kiss, panting for air, and looked up into his eyes. They were dark and hazy and searching, almost questioning. What was he questioning? Hadn't she already given him the green light more than once? Oh, why did he have to be such a maddening combination of respectfulness and wickedness?

Oh, never mind.

He must have seen something in her expression, because now he was smirking at her and his vexing fingers were pressing and sliding along the seam of her shorts between her legs. She gripped his forearm, barely aware that some very strange noises were coming from her. Her hips bucked against him, nearly frantic.

Orihime groaned and writhed against the couch, against him. She stared up into his eyes pleadingly, silently begging him, although for what, she could not think. His forehead dropped to hers, his breath coming fast against her cheek. She was almost afraid that he could feel how soaking she was through her shorts, but she was too preoccupied to care about that for long.

She needed more. Right now. Before she completely lost her mind. Her gaze found the belt buckle underneath his contracting stomach muscles and she reached for it, impressed by how quickly she undid it with shaky hands. Slipping the button through the hole proved a bit more complicated, especially since he had apparently concurred that she had a good idea and was already pulling the zipper down her shorts.

His zipper was almost hers when he suddenly moved out of her grasp, dropping to his knees on the floor in front of her and pulling her shorts all the way off, flinging them to the side. She was beginning to notice that he had a funny habit of tossing clothes further away than was necessary, as if he was frustrated that they had wasted his time.

She quickly became aware of the fact that she was almost completely naked in an embarrassing position and exposed in the middle of the afternoon, and a deep flush spread over her skin. But she didn't want to stop. Not when she felt like this. And not when he was looking at her like that from beneath his thick orange tendrils. Like he wanted to devour her.

Ichigo wanted to devour her. He wanted to consume her. He wanted her to consume him. She was incredible splayed out like this, and he wanted more. He kissed and licked her inner thigh as his fingers hooked underneath her panties, pulling them down her legs.

He heard a rip and then Orihime gasped and somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that he had just torn off her panties, but he was only interested in what was in front of him. He had not had a view like this last night. He didn't know what he expected, but he had not expected her to be so... pretty. It was like... petals. Like dark pink, almost red, wet petals.

Orihime started shifting and began to close her legs, but he put his hands on the inside of her knees pushing her open even wider. He slid his hands closer until the fingers of one touched her gently.

Her hands flew to her sides, gripping the front of the cushion. He glanced up and her head had fallen back slightly, her breasts moving as she took deep breaths. He decided to dive in and pressed a kiss to the top of her slit. She whimpered above him and he slipped out a tongue to taste her. Her bottom lip was sucked between her teeth as he explored, her nails digging into the fabric when he flicked a little nub at the top.

Curious, he sucked on it gently and her hands found his head, pushing his face closer, moaning and writhing on the couch, one leg curling up, her foot gripping the edge of the cushion. Despite what they did last night, there was a surreal moment when he could hardly believe that this girl gripping his head to her sex was his sweet, innocent friend. But there she was, and here he was about to lose it in his pants at the very sight of her.

"Ichigo, p-please..."

He felt a slight cruel streak take hold of him at her pleading and he grinned, pulling away from her frantic grasp, rising up and kissing her breast. She looked at him with wide, desperate eyes, but he wordlessly bent down and picked her up, an arm holding her beneath her bottom.

She managed to wrap shaky legs around his waist. His legs weren't much better right then, especially with her naked body pressed tightly against his, but somehow they made it to the bed where he sat her down on her back. She watched him as he quickly pulled down the zipper of his jeans and let them fall to the floor, toeing off his socks as they went.

Orihime sat up and reached for his boxers. She stared at the bulge pressing against the thin fabric before carefully pulling them down, letting them slip to the floor to join the rest and leaving Ichigo completely nude in front of her. She had seen him last night, and this morning too, but he was still fascinating and so... mouthwatering.

She bit her lip and reached out to touch his stiff arousal. Her fingers had barely touched him when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away with a groan. Her eyes flew to his, alarmed.

"Did I hurt you?"

He made a noise that sounded like choking, his eyes looking at her with a mixture of desperation and amusement. "Ah, no. No. Just... I won't, uh, last long if you do that."

"...Oh."

"What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing." She wriggled her wrist out of his grasp and traced her nails down his palm, trying and failing to suppress a smile. "Just... You like me that much?"

Orihime did not even have a chance to look at him before she was being pushed back and laid flat on the bed, his body hovering over hers, her arms pinned behind her head.

His voice was low in her ear. "Yes, I like you that much." He stroked down her arms and over her breasts, kissing her hard as his hands slid back down to her hips, one sliding over and snaking a finger against her. "You like me so much that you were soaked down here when I'd hardly touched you?"

Orihime gasped and bucked her hips against his finger, her body hot with diminishing embarrassment and increasing arousal. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, not caring that her legs were falling wide open.

He slipped a finger inside of her and started stroking. "Well, do you?"

"Y-Yes..."

She had forgotten what she was saying yes to by then, but at this point she would say yes to just about anything he asked.

Suddenly his body stilled and he stopped. "Damn it."

Except this. She would not say yes to stopping. "What?" Why on earth was he stopping?

"Son of a bitch." He pulled his finger from her. No, that was not good.

"Ichigo..." She tried to hold on to him as he sat up, but her arms were too weak and shaky.

"Damn it, Orihime."

What?!

"You're not on the, uh, pill, or whatever, by any chance?"

She stared up at his deflated and strained expression as he stared at her knee, his face bright red.

"I'm sorry, I... I know we were each other's firsts so we're safe there, and also we're technically married and I know last night we didn't... so it might... but I don't think either of us are ready for the responsibility of-"

Orihime interrupted him, pointing to the small side table next to the bed. "In the drawer."

Ichigo blinked at her before hurriedly sliding off the bed and yanking the drawer open. She giggled at the look on his face when he saw the box of condoms cheerfully waiting, like it was Christmas morning.

He looked over at her, pointing at it. "How...?"

"Tatsuki put them in there before she left."

His face twisted a little, obviously not sure what to think of his childhood friend leaving condoms for him and her best friend. But he quickly shook himself and without another word, he tore open the box, spilling them everywhere. He grabbed one and leapt back on to the bed, his hands shaking as he tried to open the thing.

Orihime laughed and took it from him, carefully tearing it and taking it out. She watched his amazed expression as she carefully rolled it on him. Some of her college education with the girls in her dorm had been embarrassing at the time, although fascinating, but she was eternally grateful for those lessons now.

"Y-You're pretty good at that."

"I practiced."

"W-What?!"

She just smiled mischievously and reached up to his pull his neck down, kissing him deeply, bringing them both down on the bed. She felt him bump against her and she wrapped her legs around him with a groan, rolling her hips off the bed and against him.

"Orihime..."

He got the message that she was more than ready and guided himself to her entrance, gently pushing into her. Orihime bowed her body, moaning loudly, pressing the side of her face into the pillow as he stretched and filled her. She could feel his hot breath coming faster against her neck as he slowly moved into her.

When he stopped, her gaze was drawn to where their bodies connected. He was completely inside.

Finally.

"Are you all right?"

She was still a bit sore from last night, but that was hardly noticeable when she felt like she was going to go crazy if he did not move. "Yes... please..."

Ichigo pulled out of her wet heat, then carefully pushed back in. He groaned against her neck and started to move a little faster, a little harder. Her heels dug into his lower back and he could feel her short nails digging into his back again, sending pain and pleasure shooting down his back. She moaned his name and he swept his tongue into her mouth, burying one hand in her hair, the other massaging her breast, tweaking the nipple.

She was writhing underneath him, meeting his thrusts as he moved faster. Heat curled tightly in his body, and he tried to slow down, tried to keep from coming so soon, but she wouldn't have it. Orihime bucked her hips into his, holding on to him tightly until he felt her stiffen beneath him, her body shaking as she let out a strangled whimper against his cheek.

He rode with her, soon breaking and releasing, biting her shoulder as his body exploded with pleasure, momentarily blinding him as shockwaves moved through his body.

Finally, he collapsed on her. He pulled out, quickly tossing the condom into the wastebasket next to the bed, and tried to roll off of her, but she held him in place with her arms and legs wrapped around him.

"Stay for a moment."

There wasn't any way he could say no to that husky tone in her voice.

"I'm not too heavy?"

She murmured a negative response.

Several moments passed until the heat became almost unbearable and she unwrapped herself from him. He flopped onto his back, and Orihime turned to her side, snaking one leg around his, her little toes teasing the other leg. Ichigo pulled her closer until her head rested over his heart.

"So... stupid, sexy guy from high school?"

He felt her stiffen against him and he chuckled softly. Her finger drew little circles on his stomach.

"You're not going to ever let me forget that, are you?"

Ichigo gave the top of her head a quick, firm kiss. "Nope."

He let his hand brush lazily along her back for a few seconds.

"Don't know if I deserve the 'stupid' part, though."

Orihime tilted her head to rest her chin on his chest and gave him a fond look full of compassion and exasperation.

"Okay, well maybe sometimes I do."

She laid her head back down and her fingers lightly drummed the rhythm of his heartbeat.

"The 'sexy' part is definitely deserved."

He felt her smile curl against his skin. "So humble."

"Unfortunately, humility is not on my attributes list."

During the few beats of silence, Ichigo gently wrapped his hand around her small shoulder.

"S-Speaking of sexy... I nearly attacked you while you were unconscious," she confessed.

He grinned at that. "Inoue Orihime, I'm shocked."

"It wouldn't have been the first time," she murmured.

He blinked and then raised his eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Eh?" She tilted her head to look at him and then her eyes widened. "Oh! Um... Eh heh heh..." Orihime suddenly buried a very red face back into his chest, and Ichigo was extremely intrigued. He continued to press until she let out a big sigh. "Well, you see... Before Hueco Mundo, I was allowed to say goodbye to one person..."

Tatsuki and Uryuu exchanged glances as they approached the honeymoon suite.

"I suppose we will now discover whether or not my money was wasted," Uryuu remarked.

"At least we got some much needed peace and quiet. Once Keigo settled down, that is."

Tatsuki took a deep breath before lifting her fist and knocking, wondering what fate her two best friends had found.

There was silence on the other side, and the two exchanged looks once again. Tatsuki knocked louder this time.

She thought she could here some faint rustling and a groan. A few seconds later the chain rattled and the door opened inward no more than a foot, revealing a sleepy, disheveled, and shirtless Ichigo. She noticed he was still wearing pajama bottoms - they had eventually sent some luggage to the room - even though it was nearly noon.

Ichigo scowled darkly at them. "What do you want?"

Tatsuki smirked. "Well, hello to you too."

His expression looked very impatient. "Yeah, hello. Something we can do for you two? I thought we were supposed to be left alone for the rest of the trip."

Tatsuki wanted to burst out laughing, but kept it in check. Quite the contrast from just a couple of days ago. He had apparently not even realized that today was the day they were supposed to go home. She didn't feel like laughing solely from the hilarity, but also from relief. Even though this whole thing was her idea, she had been feeling a bit nervous and was indescribably relieved that everything had worked out.

"Kurosaki," Uryuu explained. "Our flight leaves in six hours."

"What?" Ichigo blinked in grumpy confusion.

"We thought you would like time to consult about the annulment, just to be sure, although all of that can probably be done back home."

"Huh? Oh." Ichigo ruffled his hair. "We're not getting an annulment."

Tatsuki and Uryuu stared in shock, jaws lax.

Ichigo didn't notice and just yawned as he went on. "'Course, we'll hold a proper wedding later and all that. Anyway, six hours, you said?" He scrunched up his face in apparent annoyance. "Fine, we'll see you at the airport later."

He started to close the door, but Uryuu slammed his hand against it. "Wait just a moment, Kurosaki. You're staying married? But you haven't even dated and we just graduated university, and-"

Ichigo was glaring at the hand. "Orihime and I have been friends for years, we know each other well enough. And lots of people get married after college, Ishida. Besides, isn't this what you lunatics planned on?"

"Well, no, I mean, yes, but-"

Tatsuki interrupted. "Where's Orihime? I wanna talk to her."

Ichigo deepened his scowl and pushed on the door. "She's not decent. You can talk later."

Tatsuki grinned at the deep blush rising up his neck. "All right, all right." She tugged on Uryuu's shirt sleeve. "Let's go. I wanna get one last swim in before we leave."

Uryuu finally let go of the door and Ichigo shut it without hesitation. Still grinning, Tatsuki headed back to the elevator, Uryuu trailing behind her with a shocked expression. She pressed the button and looked up at him.

"All right, what's got you looking like a deer in the headlights?"

Uryuu blinked rapidly behind his glasses. "Well, I..." He cleared his throat. "I fully expected Kurosaki to completely botch up the opportunity. I'm in shock that it went so well, actually."

Tatsuki chuckled. "True. So, so true."

Ichigo turned around and the corner of his mouth lifted as the sleeping figure on the bed shifted and let out a soft sigh underneath the sheet. He went over and climbed up next to her, pulling the sheet down until it revealed a soft shoulder that he discovered was irresistible to kiss.

"Mm, was someone at the door?" Orihime turned over on her back and blinked up at him sleepily.

He brushed some mussed hair from her face. "Tatsuki and Ishida."

She frowned and he kissed the crease between her eyebrows. "I thought we were supposed to be left alone?"

Ichigo grinned and pressed a kiss to her lips. "Apparently, time passed faster than we thought and we have to leave today."

"Oh." Orihime stuck her bottom lip out. "Well, poo."

He captured her pouting lip, sucking on it lightly. His hand caressed her hip through the sheet, running along her curves until he gently cupped her breast, running a thumb over her nipple through the thin material.

She gasped against his mouth. "Ichigo, shouldn't... um, shouldn't we be getting ready to go?"

His lips traveled down her neck, pausing to lightly lick and nibble her collarbone. "We have six hours."

"Oh. I see."

He slowly pulled the sheet down, pressing kisses to the revealed skin. "Do you?"

"Mhm..." Her fingers threaded into his hair. She tugged until he was kissing her mouth again. Orihime suddenly pushed on his shoulders and they rolled over, their legs tangling in sheets. She continued to kiss him along his jaw, down his neck.

"Do we really have to go?" she murmured against his chest.

He groaned and ran his hands along her back. "Afraid so. But after the wedding back home we'll, uh..."

She looked up at him from where she has been placing wet kisses on his stomach, her eyes dancing. "We'll what?"

"Um..." Thinking was not one of his strong points in more normal situations, and certainly not now. "We'll go on another trip. Longer... uh, whatchamacallit."

She paused in her task of untying his pajama bottoms. "Honeymoon?"

"Yeah, that's right. Less pink and fewer hearts, this time."

"But the pink and hearts hold sentimental value for us now."

"Oh great, I'll have sentiments... sonofabitch." He smoothed her hair and held it back in one hand. "Uh, about pink, hearts, and breakfasts that look like breasts... If this got out, my image would be in- god, Orihime, where did you learn that?"

She lifted her head, her cheeks bright pink, and looked at him innocently. "I read about it."

Ichigo flopped his head back on the pillow with a groan. "You read about it? Why were you- gods, Orihime!"

.

.