"Moment of truth. Now or never..." he hears Keigo muttering to himself as they duck into the hall seeking their test scores. "It'll be fine, right?"

"Totally," answers Mizuiro with forced confidence. "I'm sure we all passed."

A cluster of students is blocking the wall displaying scores postings, excited chattering interspersed with a cheer here or a groan there. They shuffle off in small clumps, quickly replaced by others anxious to learn their fate. Ichigo hangs back for a while, content to watch the rest of his class check first. If only because he doesn't want anyone else around when he has whatever reaction he's going to have over his own ranking. He doesn't want to think about what could happen if he hasn't made top five.

"Twenty-two!" Keigo whoops with pumping fist. "I can't believe it!"

"Neither can I. Did you cheat?"

"How could you say that, Mizuiro? You know how hard I worked, all thanks to Ichigo getting on my case about being such a bad student. Thanks for that, by the way. You're a real pal!"

"No problem," Ichigo replies with a weak smile. "Glad you listened for once."

"Aren't you going to check the board?" asks Mizuiro.

"Yeah, in a minute. I need to mentally prepare first."

His friends exchange a look between themselves before offering a light shrug. Keigo pats him on the back and Mizuiro tells him they'll see him later. Ichigo watches them stroll down the hallway. Realizing he is alone at last and has no more excuses to delay, he sighs. Four long steps forward brings him within range. Eyes start at the bottom and work their way up the considerable list. Forties...thirties...twenties. Not yet. Twenty-two is Keigo, nineteen is Mizuiro, sixteen is Tatsuki. All of his friends have passed, it seems, and he is happy for them. The remaining fifteen proves too much for him to read right away. Ichigo shuts his eyes and leans his head against the wall.

"You're only prolonging the inevitable," Ishida says from behind him. He turns to see the boy watching solemnly. "Get on with it."

"Easy for you to say. I don't have to check the list to know where you came in."

"What are you worried about? This contest never mattered in the first place." Walking closer to meet his gaze squarely, Ishida shows him a fierce expression and insists, "What matters is your dedication, which you have already proven. I've never seen you work this hard for anything that wasn't life-or-death. Seeing how much you care, how much you're willing to give means a lot, Ichigo. Much more than any standardized test could ever measure."

"Yeah," he agrees even as his heart sinks a little because this consolation speech must mean he didn't win. "I think I understand...Thanks."

"Good. Now about your reward, I was hoping we could keep it a surprise until after school. You're available to walk back to my apartment, aren't you?"

"Wait—Reward?"

Shaking his head with an odd glint in his eyes, Ishida mutely points to the top of the list. And Ichigo gasps because he has come in at number three. 1. Ishida Uryuu, 2. Kunieda Ryo, 3. Kurosaki Ichigo. Although he accidentally pushed Inoue into the fourth slot, Ichigo can't bring himself to feel too badly about it when Momoyama is squeezed behind her at number five. His head feels light. Or maybe that's his heart because Ishida is smiling proudly and taking his hand.

"I think making third place of more than a hundred students qualifies you for a bonus prize. Come on."

He leads Ichigo back towards the classroom where students are milling around, talking about their scores as they pack up supplies for the day. They stop just outside the open door, in full view of everyone. A few pairs of eyes land on their connected hands but most glance at each other. Ishida pivots to stand right in front of him.

"What are we doing?" Ichigo asks the enigmatic boy. "Not that I'm complaining, but—"

"Tell me when Momoyama is looking."

He turns to peer into the room, locating the student in question talking with someone by the window. Then Ishida leans in to kiss the exposed side of his neck. Ichigo tenses but doesn't evade. A girl within spots them and ducks to hiss conspiratorially to her seated friend, who cries out upon noticing them, alerting everyone else to unfolding events. Ishida is nibbling at the edge of his ear.

"Uryuu...?" he murmurs, wondering where in the world this is going.

"Is he watching?"

"Uh." A sideways glance reveals that yes, Momoyama is staring wide-eyed at them with ever-reddening features. "Yep. He sure is. Along with the rest of the class."

Ishida lifts a hand to guide him to face forward so he can kiss Ichigo far too possessively for public decency. A peal of astonished shouts goes mostly unnoticed as a slim body presses up against him. Ishida's tongue sneaks in somehow, not so much teasing as wrecking. His fingers find Ichigo's butt and get cozy there. It's zero to sixty in five seconds flat and he is struggling to keep up with Ishida's vigor when there are a couple dozen witnesses reacting to the molestation.

Finally, he releases Ichigo's mouth. Their eyes meet, heavy breaths and flushed cheeks speaking volumes until actual words are voiced.

"I want you, Ichigo. Only you because I—" He looks down—thoughtfully, then decidedly—before coming back up, "Because I love you, too."

He hugs Ishida hard, repeating the phrase against his ear. The girls coo and most of the boys groan. Momoyama doesn't make a sound, but the expression he sports as he stomps from the room and down the hall is gratifying beyond expectations. Ichigo hides his smile against the warm hollow of his boyfriend's throat.

The front door slams.

"I don't care, Uryuu, just take them off already!"

Their bags are dropped to the floor at the entrance, shoes kicked off, and Ishida can't stop snickering because he was serious about owning a huge pair of sunglasses that take up half his face. Apparently he thought it would be funny to bring them to school with him today.

"Why? Isn't this exactly what you wanted me to wear?"

"Not while I'm trying to kiss you on your doorstep!"

"That's why I told you to be patient and wait until we got into my apartment. I have nosy neighbors who spy from their windows."

"Words cannot express how much I still don't care, and if you don't get rid of that hideous abomination right now, I'm going to break it into pieces and stomp on the remains," threatens Ichigo with a frustrated glare. "It's your fault for kissing me like that in front of our classmates—for kissing me like that at all. Speaking of, where did you learn to kiss!? There's no way you're that much of a natural!"

Ishida sighs. "Jealous again so soon? This is going to be a lifelong trend with you, isn't it?"

Both of them freeze at the passing mention of relationship permanence. Well, considering they just traded 'love-you's before walking home together less than half an hour ago, Ichigo really shouldn't be surprised. Ishida bypasses the crucial implication by taking his wrist and leading him toward the bed. They stand awkwardly beside it, unsure where to begin. The oversized novelty glasses are removed, along with Ishida's regular ones. He sets them both on the bedside table before looking at Ichigo expectantly.

"What?"

"You remember those things I made you buy? Now would be the opportune time to use them."

"Oh. Uh..."

"Tell me you learned from your mistake the first time and put them in your bag after our warm-up in the library?"

"Not so much," he admits with fingers scratching absently at the back of his neck. "I could go get them?"

Rolling his eyes, Ishida reaches down to pull open a drawer. He slaps a small plastic bottle into Ichigo's hand and crosses his arms, waiting for the outburst. The response is a dropped jaw and disbelieving eyebrows.

"You never wondered why I knew so much about how to choose these kinds of things?"

"Why do you have this, Uryuu? I swear to the Soul King, if you've slept with that Peach Mountain asshole, I'll—"

"I didn't."

"Then why is it half-empty?" cries Ichigo as the other blushes faintly, avoiding his gaze. "Look, I need you to tell me if you were with someone before me. I won't get mad, I just...Fuck, I don't know. Maybe you shouldn't tell me. No, actually I don't want to hear about it."

The barrier of his arms lowers from around his chest and blue eyes rise to meet his candidly.

"I've never been with anyone, Ichigo."

"Then why—?"

"It's for me," he claims with a cringe. "I've done a lot of research about...how it's done between two men and I was curious about some things, so..."

A painful silence follows that reluctant confession. Ishida pretends he isn't fidgeting with the end of his tie while Ichigo glances back and forth between him and the bottle, putting it together. A vague scenario of how Ishida might use this on his own slowly clarifies in his mind. His eyes fall to the bed, picturing the boy nude and panting there, slick fingers simultaneously sliding over the front and pushing in behind. Perhaps with a tasteful video playing on his laptop for instructional purposes. Ichigo swallows hard.

"O-okay. Yeah. That makes sense, since you're you."

"And that means what, exactly?"

"Of course Ishida Uryuu would research gay sex before attempting it under-prepared." Ichigo has to laugh at his half-affronted, half-mortified expression. Bright cheeks burn hotter. "I bet you took notes and everything. Constructed hypotheses and tested experiments. I'm surprised you didn't use the whole bottle for the sake of science."

"Shut up!"

"Then again, you did warn me not to get anything infused or flavored, and..."

"Don't say it."

"This bottle appears to be strawberry-scented." Ishida briefly buries his face in his hands with a groan. He goes to snatch the evidence from Ichigo's hands but he evades too quickly. "You bought this because of me, didn't you? How long have you had it? The label is peeling here."

"So what? I'm a young man with a healthy sex drive!"

"Nah, it's more than that. Admit it, Uryuu: you've wanted me for a long time," he grins, holding the bottle out of reach when he is pursued. "The berry lube proves it!"

Sensing that he isn't getting the bottle away from him anytime soon, Ishida gives up the endeavor and takes a step back. He fixes Ichigo with a serious look and takes a measured breath. "Yes, Ichigo, I have had my eyes on you for some time. Do you intend to keep me waiting even now that you know the truth?" His hands lift to loosen his tie, undo the front of his uniform jacket, and drop both to drape over a nearby chair. He pops the first few clasps at the top of his shirt.

"Hell no," Ichigo breathes. "Just tell me how you want me."

"Naked, for a start."

"I can do that."

Ishida watches him undress hurriedly without doing anything about his own clothes. Pausing before pushing unzipped pants the rest of the way off, Ichigo asks a silent question. Only then does the calm boy resume removing his shirt at a snail's pace. Ishida seems much more interested in observing than participating right away. Deciding to change that immediately, Ichigo steps close to initiate a heated kiss. He finishes pushing the shirt from Ishida's shoulders for him and goes for his belt next.

The first touch of hands to flesh sparks a chain reaction that has them going a little crazy too fast. Ishida shoves his underwear to the floor, then he shoves Ichigo to the bed. His fingers migrate lower, not shy about making firm contact with a specific part of Ichigo's anatomy. The confident caress wins a throaty moan that derails their messy kiss. Ishida's mouth teases down his chest, like at the library, and Ichigo is starting to wonder if he has a thing for torsos.

"Want me to show you the fruits of my research?"

A grunt of approval is all he can muster, but Ishida figures it out. The last of their clothing is shed and Ichigo's leg is moved with an unmistakable intention. Ishida grabs the abandoned bottle and pops open the cap.

"Whoa, hold on a minute."

"What?" he innocently asks Ichigo, squeezing a dollop into his palm. "Second thoughts?"

"Are you...Is that for me?"

"That was the idea, yes."

"Um."

"Ichigo," begins Ishida with an arched eyebrow, "Surely, you didn't think I would be the one to...'receive'...when you haven't even considered this in depth, much less studied the mechanics of it as I just told you I have."

"Yeah, but—"

"I'm not saying I won't be open to that next time but for now one of us should really know what we're doing, if only to ensure we both make it through intact."

It wouldn't be Ishida if he weren't this logical. Part of Ichigo agrees, but the larger part has a slight issue with the whole idea. Whether he pondered doing this sort of thing with Ishida or not, his subconscious was probably expecting to go about this another way. Although any sex with him is undeniably better than none at all.

"That makes sense, but maybe we should try something else first. You know, ease into it?"

"This coming from the guy who fought nearly every captain in Seireitei without a moment's hesitation."

"That's different," Ichigo argues with a roll of his eyes.

"I certainly hope so. If sex was closely akin to battle our species would have died out millennia ago. If you're saying we could do with a bit more foreplay, I'm game. But I won't be satisfied settling for an honorable mention when I've been anticipating first place."

A purposeful kiss follows that self-assured declaration. Ichigo returns it willingly enough, but he tenses to feel Ishida shifting to move his hand lower. Clever, clever person that he is, Ishida teases along his erection instead of jumping right into anything else. The aroma of artificial strawberries blooms between them and Ichigo still can't believe how different it feels when it's Ishida's fingers wrapping around him, rather than his own. He turns away from the kiss to suck in much-needed oxygen.

"Did you know you make these quiet little hums when you're turned-on, Uryuu? It's kinda hot."

"Glad you approve," he murmurs back.

"I like your voice. I keep wondering if you're a 'screamer' or not."

"You'll just have to wait and find out."

Somewhere between Ichigo's breathless laughter and Ishida's lips on his stomach, a slim finger slips inside.

"Oh, fuck, that feels so weird," he says in a rush.

Ishida lifts his mouth from Ichigo's stomach to meet his eyes and promise, "You'll get used to it. Try not to focus on it too much."

"How the hell am I supposed to tune it out?"

It is a rhetorical question, but Ishida smirks at him before leaning down to carefully lick while pushing in deeper. He gasps and wriggles at the dual sensations.

"Hmm...this stuff tastes like strawberries, too."

Ichigo snorts in amusement at the casual comment, in spite of the tentative addition of a second finger along with more of that ridiculous substance. Ishida has evidently decided he likes the taste of it, as he has started sucking on the end of his cock. This development does wonders for relaxing Ichigo enough to try a third. The stretch is more than he bargained for, summoning a sharp hiss through his teeth. Ishida eases back immediately and arches up to press an apologetic kiss to his chin. Pushing both hands into his hair, Ichigo guides him in for a real kiss and samples fake fruit from his lips.

"Keep going," he tells Ishida. "I'm fine."

They both pause at that, startled at his eagerness after initial doubt.

"Are you sure? Maybe you were right in the first place. Doing this with you instead of myself is much more dissimilar than I thought."

"Losing confidence already, Uryuu?"

It is meant as a tease but he answers seriously, "I just don't want to hurt you."

"Well, I don't want to hurt you either and I trust your ability to do this more than mine."

Ishida blinks a few times in the wake of such praise. Ichigo's reassuring smile seems to do the trick and he goes back to his task without another word. The sounds of their breathing fill a quiet created by intense concentration. Ishida closes his eyes, guiding his fingertips as though searching, and looks almost annoyed when he can't find whatever it is. Ichigo bites back a huff of humor. Then he flings his head back and yells as a violent orgasm is forced from him.

"Aaand there it is," Ishida smugly announces, delicately withdrawing. "You should be ready now."

Ichigo needs a long moment before he snarkily responds, "Don't say it like I'm a damn casserole! Warn me if you're going to do something that..."

"That...insanely enjoyable? Sure, I'll give notice next time." Handing over a few tissues from his nightstand, Ishida lowers to lie beside him and says, "I can hardly wait to know what that feels like, if it's half as fun as you made it look."

"You mean you didn't—?"

"Couldn't reach."

"That is a fucking tragedy," Ichigo laments amid hasty swipes at the mess on his belly, "Because that was probably the most fun I've ever had. So far."

"Speaking of 'so far', how do you want to do this?"

"What do you mean?"

Waiting until he is done cleaning up, Ishida points to a wastebasket for him to toss the tissues. He leans on an elbow and regards Ichigo's body lustfully.

"I mean which position would you prefer? There are plenty to choose from, but I would recommend keeping it relatively simple for a first try."

"Uh, I don't know, what do you suggest?"

"For example, you could...um," here he pauses, cheeks dusting pink. The only way he finishes the thought is by speaking at twice the pace to rush the embarrassing words through. "I guess you could try...riding me? Or we could go with 'missionary', that's an easy one. I-I've read about one where both participants are on their knees and—"

"The second one," Ichigo interrupts before it becomes unbearably awkward, "Let's just go with the easiest way."

"All right."

Neither one of them moves for a handful of seconds. Ishida chews at his own lip while staring across the room and Ichigo taps his fingers against the mattress. Finally, he interrupts whatever internal battle the other is fighting with a question that must be asked.

"So, do you have a condom, or what?"

"R-right," Ishida dimly acknowledges. "Bedside drawer."

Since he is closer, Ichigo reaches over to root around in said location. He retrieves a sealed box, which he fumbles when trying to open, and eventually hands a silver-packaged circle to Ishida, who swallows audibly as he takes it. Inquiring whether he has used one before becomes unnecessary as Ichigo watches him struggle to tear into the wrapper. Although he hasn't done it either, he snatches it away from Ishida and bites the corner, ripping the edge on the first try. A muttered word of thanks is offered when Ichigo gives it back.

By now, Ishida is so nervous his hands are shaking. The slippery prophylactic is proving too wily for his novice efforts. For his part, Ichigo is almost too distracted devoting full attention his bedfellow's dick for the first time to notice the struggle. One glance and the notion that he wants to taste it is what pops into his head. Ishida grumbles a low curse and Ichigo stills his jerky movements with a touch.

"Let me," he requests with a kiss to Ishida's shoulder. "Lean back."

He lets Ichigo take it and rests on his elbows to watch him apply the irritating thing with darkened eyes. Ishida's breath catches when he dips down to lick instead.

"Ichigo!"

"I still owe you for the other day," he points out to preempt potential complaints. "Besides, we can make it last a little longer this way."

So he goes down on Ishida like he has wanted to since their study session at the library, and it is allowed. Ichigo soon learns that although his boyfriend is not a 'screamer', the noises he does make are unbelievably arousing. It's more than sufficient to make him antsy to get to the main event. Several minutes of their new favorite hobby—kissing each other silly—is all it takes for Ishida to recover enough for Ichigo to roll the rubber into place at last. Rearranging legs and arms and hips to get situated, Ishida halts in a hover and stares into his eyes.

"Ready?"

"Go," Ichigo assents with a firm nod.

Two seconds later, he wants to take it back. Two seconds after that, he's glad he can't because Ishida is making an expression that is tugging at Ichigo's heart in all the best ways. Kiss-reddened mouth open, gasping, eyelids fluttering, pupils spreading. He moans on the exhale, low and strained. Ichigo promptly answers with one of his own. Taking that as a cue, Ishida collects himself and starts to move.

It's uncomfortable at first, but watching Ishida slowly shake apart gets him through it. Each smooth thrust visibly steels his resolve until he is back with Ichigo, fully in the moment together. He makes minor shifts in their positions with the same focused look as before. This time Ichigo knows what it means, knows exactly what Ishida is searching for but isn't as quick to find.

"Come on, Shinigami, work with me," he growls with an insistent upward push at Ichigo's knee, "This is where your exceptional flexibility comes in handy."

Maybe he would take offense at being ordered around in that tone...if it wasn't suddenly so sexy. He lets Ishida do as he pleases with his limbs, even when the burn of a stretch threatens in his hamstrings because he knows it's for the best. Because Ichigo knows when he is maneuvered just so—

"Oh, fuck yes, Uryuu!"

The pleasure has him tensing up and Ishida makes a desperate sound in the back of his throat, pace faltering as he calls Ichigo's name in turn. A few fleeting moments more mark their limits. Ichigo grabs whatever part of the body above that he can reach and holds tight as the friction of close hips tips him over the edge. His eyes blink open in time to see Ishida follow him down. Strength sapped, he collapses against Ichigo with a spent groan.

"That good, huh?" he chuckles, wrapping weakened arms around him. "Me, too."

"I'm so glad you won that stupid bet."

"Yeah, but be honest: you were planning to do this whether I made the rank or not."

He can feel Ishida's smile curving against his chest as he says, "Guilty."

A lazy hush settles over them like a blanket. Ichigo is drowsier than he wants to admit, especially when he knows Ishida will likely get up to insist they clean the mess before stains set. Sure enough, he eventually unties himself from the knot they've made and reaches past Ichigo for the tissue box. Ishida makes a face as he pulls off the condom that Ichigo instantly deems adorable for reasons he doesn't entirely understand. Yet, the sentiment has him sitting up to brush the hair from Ishida's neck and kiss him there. He sighs and leans into it.

"I know you think I'm crazy for claiming to be in love with you so soon after we started dating," Ichigo murmurs against his skin. "Even though you already said it back, I won't hold it against you if you want to forget it happened. We can just—"

"No."

"No?"

"I don't want to take it back and I won't forgive you if you try."

Showing a surprised expression, Ichigo responds, "Guess it's settled then."

"I suppose it is."

"You know what this means, don't you?" Raising a single eyebrow, Ishida shakes his head. "We'll have to be roommates at university, of course. Lucky for you, I'm not half as disorganized as you think. I even know how to cook a few decent meals. You may not have realized this, Uryuu, but I'm totally a catch."

Despite his sincerity, Ishida bursts into a fit of laughter at that vain assertion. Noticing how amusement lights up his entire visage, there's no way Ichigo can bring himself to be offended. Still, he tackles Ishida to the bed for posterity's sake. He kisses his boyfriend until the last of the giggles fade, drawing away to gaze into blue eyes glowing with mirth.

"You're a catch, all right. A Catch-22 because I might be a lunatic for wanting you, but letting you go would surely drive me insane."

And isn't that just about the nerdiest and most romantic thing he ever uttered?

AN: Somehow I had to finish this story with so much sap you'd think I murdered a tree! Couldn't be helped.