Title: Despite Best Intentions
Author: Akuni
Universe: Bleach
Genre: Humour, Romance
Rating: NC-17 (smut!)
Pairing: Ichigo/Renji
Spoilers: post-SS; minor spoilers for arrancar arc
Word Count: 3600

Summary: Sometimes things work out just the way they should – sometimes even despite the best intentions.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, I'm just borrowing it for a while.
Distribution: Originally posted to my LJ May 20, 2007. This is only for Kyriani, so no. :)

Dedication: For Kyriani on her birthday. You make me smile. :)

A/N: Sometimes it's hard writing only the serious side of Bleach for so long. Because the characters deal with such intense issues so much of the time, it's easy to forget the lighter moments, when they're acting silly and dorky and basically letting off a lot of steam. I thought for this fic I'd try to capture a little more of that ridiculousness and less of the serious side. :)

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Despite Best Intentions

Kurosaki Ichigo was learning the hard way just how hateful shinigami paperwork was. Sitting behind Abarai Renji's desk filling out mission reports was not what he'd envisioned when he'd arranged to visit. Spending the summer break in Soul Society had seemed like a good idea at first. There were several advantages to the plan, such as learning more about what it really meant to be a shinigami, and getting to know the people he'd one day be working with for what would probably be centuries – though his mind shied away from contemplating that in any more depth.

And of course, spending time with his shinigami lover was not the least of the perks he'd expected to enjoy. He hadn't, however, counted on the difficulties that would arise as a result of having become involved with the 6th Division lieutenant. Since their relationship was still a secret from absolutely everyone – even their closest friends thought they barely tolerated each other – the pair had no believable reason to arrange to spend their time together. Ichigo had a room in the barracks, and it was nearly impossible to sneak into Renji's quarters even at night.

They'd been told to "get used to working together" on missions, but their well-intentioned friends thought it best that they not be left alone together too long outside of work lest they start fighting. To be fair, their behaviour hadn't really changed all that much, so their friends had no hints that something had changed between them one shocking spring day; they still squabbled over stupid things, stole food off each others' plates during meals, and staggered away from training sessions together covered in sweat and dirt and bruises, long after everyone else had given up.

What no one realized was that the squabbles were now born of a different kind of frustration and helped ease the tension between them, and that they often stole the food the other didn't like off their plates, and that the long training sessions were the best excuse they had to get their hands on each other. By outlasting everyone else, they won a precious half hour alone before someone thought they'd better check and make sure they hadn't killed each other.

Ichigo had resigned himself to another day without spending time alone with his lover when Renji burst into his office. Ichigo shot out of the chair and automatically reached for Zangetsu. "What is it, are we under attack?"

Renji shook his head, his eyes tight. Without a word, he locked the door behind him, and dragged the visitor's chair over to sit under the knob.

"Renji?" Ichigo ran his eyes over his lover quickly, looking for something that would explain this unusual behaviour. "What's going on?"

Renji gave him a look he'd come to know very well over the past few months, and stepped right up into Ichigo's space. "I think ya know what's goin' on," the shinigami smirked.

Anxiety faded, and Ichigo grinned back even as he reached for the other man's waist. Renji's hands were rough on his face as their mouths came together. They pressed together tightly, teeth clacking before moving away to allow their tongues to curl around each other.

Ichigo pushed his hands into his lover's robes, sliding over the smooth skin to grip the tattooed shoulders from behind. Renji made a pleased noise and ground against him, their growing erections rubbing together enticingly.

They'd fooled around in the office before, but never anything more than heated kisses and frustratingly sex-free embraces – anything else they'd deemed too risky. Sometimes they got carried away, though, so when Renji started untying his sash, Ichigo grabbed his wrist and dragged his mouth away. "We don't have time for this!"

"We gotta make time! They're sendin' me out when the late shift starts." Renji's voice was muffled as he began nipping at Ichigo's neck.

"What, tonight?" Ichigo stopped arguing and started tearing at his lover's robes. "I thought you were gonna be here for the rest of the week!" He tugged at Renji's sash, but the knot was stuck.

"Kuchiki-taichou volunteered our Division for the mission, an' do we really gotta talk about this now?" Renji pulled back and took over untying his own sash with his long, nimble fingers.

"No." Ichigo quickly shed his hakama, tossing them behind Renji's desk. "Sex now, talk later."

"Righ—mmph." Ichigo cut him off with another kiss. They managed to keep their lips locked as they finished undressing, but had to break apart to figure out some practical details. Ichigo wrapped a hand around the hard flesh rubbing against his hip and squeezed; long fingers eagerly encircled his own erection in return, sending a tingle of pleasure spreading from his groin.

Warm lips brushed against his ear. "How're we gonna do this?"

Renji's pulling and stroking made it hard to think; Ichigo looked around quickly. "There."

"What, over the desk?"

Ichigo nodded. "You got a better idea?"

"Well, no, but…"

Ichigo leaned in close. "When you're stuck here alone doing paperwork late on a cold winter night, you can just close your eyes and think about how we screwed on your desk," he whispered.

Renji's response was to turn around and grasp the edge of the desk firmly. "I like that idea," he hissed.

"Thought you might." Ichigo pressed up against his lover's back. "You got anything in here we can use?" Renji shook his head. "Ok, this way then." Ichigo offered two fingers to Renji's mouth. The shinigami's tongue tickled as it wound around them.

When those fingers pushed into the tight heat it was a struggle not to moan. Instead he bit gently at the back of Renji's neck, burying a sigh in the soft skin. Renji tensed briefly, then leaned into his touch. Ichigo watched, rapt, as his fingers disappeared; it never ceased to amaze him that they'd come so far. That winter he'd never have believed any of this was possible, and yet here they were.

The shinigami made a noise deep in his throat when Ichigo curled his fingers before pulling them out. Ichigo spat on his palm and did his best to coat his erection. Carefully, so carefully, he pressed forward into his lover's waiting body, but it was all he could do to move slowly. "That does it," he said in a strained voice. "From now on you keep something slippery in your desk." He spat again, and again until he was satisfied, then pushed all the way in.

The spiky red ponytail bobbed as Renji nodded. "But this is fine for now." His voice was rough with desire.

A few short thrusts were all it took to weaken Ichigo's knees and set his heart racing. He leaned forward, stroking a bit harder. "You feel good," he whispered right against his lover's ear.

Renji shivered, his back arching. "You're… ahh!..." he broke off as Ichigo altered his angle and moved faster. "…fuck!" he finished with a gasp.

Ichigo couldn't suppress his groan; it was all just too good, and he wanted so much more. Their bodies fit together so damn well, they needed more time alone together, and—

A knock at the office door froze them both, but did nothing to quench the passion flooding through them. Renji turned his head toward the door; the irritation in his voice was an odd companion to the lust Ichigo saw in his eye.

"Don't stop!" Renji whispered urgently before raising his voice. "I'm busy, whaddaya need?"

"Uh… nothing, Abarai-fukutaichou, just delivering a message. Your mission's been moved up, you're leaving right after supper."

"Fuck!" Ichigo muttered. He tilted his hips and thrust in deeply, pulling his lover toward him with a quick jerk.

Renji's eyes rolled back in his head. "Fine, you're dismissed!" he hollered, sounding strained.

"Ah, ok, thank you, Abarai-fukutaichou…" the shinigami trailed off, his hasty footsteps forgotten before they'd finished echoing.

"C'mon… nngh!" Renji drove himself back, and Ichigo stumbled backward. Holding on tightly, he fell into the chair with a gasp that was completely drowned out by Renji's cry when they slammed down together.

Ichigo froze, still gripping his lover's hips. "Are you ok?" he asked around an unexpected mouthful of the red ponytail.

"Yes, oh fuck do that again!" Renji's fingernails dug into the wood of the desk, and his whole frame shook with what Ichigo realized was intense pleasure.

"You want… ok" Ichigo didn't need to be told twice. He manoeuvred them out of the chair, planted his feet, and bent his knees. He pulled away, then snapped his hips, driving himself in hard while yanking Renji down to meet him. Sweat-damp flesh slapped together loudly, but this time their groans were both muted.

He moved slowly in and out of his lover's body, each long, deep stroke building the pleasure slowly; every now and then a few quick, hard thrusts made that pleasure spike. Those hard thrusts grew more frequent as Renji pushed back against him in an unmistakable demand, and Ichigo needed to feel his lover clench around him.

"Get ready," he whispered, a split second before dropping his weight and letting Renji fall onto him again. Heat surged through him, amplified by the muffled grunt that was Renji's best attempt at stifling another lust-filled cry.

This time Ichigo stayed seated, locking his feet behind the wheels of the chair and thrusting his hips up as Renji rode him at a steady pace. His eyes roamed over the inked patterns on his lover's back, watching the shift of solid muscle under smooth skin. But the patterns blurred as the tension mounted, and their strangled moans and sharp breaths grew more desperate.

"I need… back on the desk," Renji gasped. Ichigo rolled the chair a bit closer, and they shifted out of the chair and fell back over the desk. They moved together quickly now, raw need pulsing through them. Ichigo slid his hand off his lover's hip and moved forward to grasp his erection.

Renji buried his cry in his arm when he stiffened around Ichigo and bucked hard, spilling his release over Ichigo's hand and the front of his desk. His body twisted with pleasure, losing some of the rhythm they'd established but still moving with him as Ichigo dug his fingers into the shinigami's hip.

His lover's harsh pants and encouraging murmurs pushed him closer to the edge. Ichigo buried himself over and over in that soft, tight… he clenched his teeth to keep silent as the tension snapped and pleasure crashed over him. A small noise escaped as he rode it out, Renji pressing against him solidly when his own movements grew erratic.

The small office smelled strongly of sweat and sex when they finally grew still. Ichigo's arms and legs were trembling; he tried to stay upright, but after a few seconds just gave it up and leaned heavily on Renji, resting his head on one tattooed shoulder.

"That… that was…" Renji panted, dropping his head on the desk. He loosened his grip on the desk. "I think I got splinters."

"Glad you liked it," Ichigo smirked against his lover's back. "Next time I wanna try it."

"Fuck yes. Gonna be feelin' that all night." The lean body under his shook with suppressed laughter.

Ichigo chuckled. "That's great, but it doesn't do me any good tonight."

Renji lifted his head and craned his neck to grin at him. "Ya know I'd return the favour, but there ain't time for another round." Ichigo grinned back, but the moment of levity was short-lived. They disentangled themselves and made haste to clean away all traces of their encounter.

Cleaning themselves and the desk was a simple matter, but it took a couple tries to find which uniform belonged to whom; Ichigo made two attempts at wrapping a too-large robe around himself while Renji tried to figure out why his hakama wouldn't close properly before they realized their error.

"What do we do now?" Ichigo asked nervously, passing Renji his proper robe and accepting his own hakama in return. "What if he figured it out?" he asked, referring to the almost-forgotten messenger.

Renji shrugged. "Deny it, of course." His grin was only a shadow of its normal self. "Who'd believe the truth?"

That thought bothered Ichigo for some reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, but he didn't have time to analyze it now. "Good point. We were fighting again." Renji nodded.

When they'd straightened their clothing and splashed cold water on the red marks on their faces and necks, they eased the chair out from under the door and turned the lock, wincing a bit at the loud click of tumblers.

Renji licked his still faintly reddened lips. "Ready?"

Ichigo took a steadying breath. "Yeah."

They opened the door and peered out cautiously. The hallway was deserted. Renji slumped against the wall, relief radiating off him. "He didn't hear."

Ichigo ran his hand through his hair and resisted the urge to laugh away the nervous tension. "Finally, something's gone right."

Renji frowned. "Are ya regrettin' comin' here?"

"No, just…" Ichigo shrugged and offered his lover a rueful smile. "Wasn't what I expected. Which I guess was kinda the whole point of me coming here," he realized.

"Huh." The shinigami was silent for a moment. "Well that don't matter now. We need t' make an appearance at the mess, an' I need ta get ready t' leave right after." He pushed away from the wall and gave Ichigo one final smile before affecting a grimace and striding briskly down the corridor. Ichigo took care to paste a disgruntled expression on his face as he followed. It was easier, now that they knew their cover hadn't been blown. Though at the moment, he couldn't quite remember why it was so important to keep their relationship secret.

The cheers and catcalls that greeted them as they shoved each other through the door to the mess melted their manufactured expressions right off their faces. Confusion quickly gave way to understanding and utter mortification.

"Oh no…" Ichigo groaned; now he remembered why they'd wanted to keep this private. They spun as one and tried to push their way back out, but the large 7th Division lieutenant and his even larger captain blocked the way. The room was packed full of people, some he'd never even met. Renji was red from head to toe as they endured the clapping and hollering for several minutes, and Ichigo judged that the heat in his face was probably a good match.

"Nice catch, Ichigo!" That sounded like the 9th Division lieutenant, Hisagi Shuuhei.

"Hey Renji, ain't anyone ever told ya it ain't nice ta corrupt the young?" Madarame Ikkaku, without a doubt.

"So that's why you wouldn't go out with me, Renji!" A leggy brunette wearing a 4th Division uniform made a pouty face; Ichigo scowled blackly at her before he could stop himself, triggering a fresh flood of whoops and whistles.

"I don't know her!" Renji hissed frantically, glaring around the room. His eyes landed on a petite, dark-haired woman sitting demurely beside the beaming 10th Division lieutenant. "YOU!" he bellowed. "You did this!"

Kuchiki Rukia smiled and held up her hand – and the room fell silent. "I promise on my honour as a Kuchiki," she enunciated carefully, "that I had nothing whatsoever to do…" she paused ever so briefly, "…with Abarai Renji and Kurosaki Ichigo getting together!" Rukia finished loudly and dramatically, a wicked smirk spreading over her face.

Laughter swelled as Ichigo strode toward his friend – former friend! – but stopped as he realized Renji was moving in step beside him. They shared a pained look, all too aware of the picture they were presenting.

"Now what?" Ichigo whispered desperately.

Renji shrugged helplessly. "I…"

"Ok, who had the 20th?" Matsumoto and Rukia peered at the long list they held between them.

"Wait!" cried a vaguely familiar voice in the back. "We need proof, first!"

The cry went up. "Proof, proof!"

"Now wait just a—" Renji's eyes narrowed angrily. He glanced sideways at Ichigo, whose patience with the whole situation had reached the breaking point.

"You'll pay for this, Yoruichi-san!" Ichigo snapped, finally recognizing the woman's cat-voice as the one that had first demanded proof. The lovers turned as one and grabbed each other by the shoulders. Their harsh breaths were drowned out by the roar as they kissed, quickly but deliberately, leaving no doubt as to the intimate nature of their relationship.

Oddly enough, Ichigo's temper faded somewhat during the kiss. When they pulled apart, he noticed that Renji's eyes were still hard, but he no longer looked furious.

"Happy now, ya perverts?" Renji grumbled loudly.

"That will do." The crowd melted away as Kuchiki Byakuya made his way to the two women apparently in charge of the pool, who were peering intently at a small book Matsumoto had produced from a hidden pocket.

"Ooh, Nii-sama, you won!" A chorus of disappointed voices met this announcement.

"No fair!"

"Unfair advantage!"

"Rukia musta tipped him off, she knows them better than any of us!"

Rukia folded her arms and glared around the room. "I did no such thing! A Kuchiki would never be caught cheating," she said disdainfully.

Byakuya smiled very faintly as he accepted his winnings from Matsumoto. "Thank you, Matsumoto-fukutaichou."

"Taichou!" Renji looked aghast. The blood flushing their cheeks drained as the full horror of the ordeal descended on them. "I can't believe…" He squared his shoulders. "We're gonna talk about this after we get back," he said firmly, obviously not caring how many lines he was crossing by speaking so boldly to his captain.

To their amazement, the 6th Division captain's smile grew wider. "I've changed my mind about the mission," he said evenly. "We can leave in the morning." The noble stepped away and a path immediately opened between him and the door.

Byakuya stopped in the doorway and turned back to the stunned pair. "Oh, and will you please oversee the transfer of Kurosaki Ichigo from the barracks to your quarters this evening? We have new recruits due next week, so you'll have to keep him as your guest for the remainder of his time in Soul Society."

Surprise painted Renji's face. "Yes, Taichou," he replied to his captain's retreating figure.

Ichigo cleared his throat. "Are you done?" he asked Rukia sarcastically. "Can we eat now?"

"Maybe this will teach you about keeping secrets from your friends," Rukia chirped smugly. She raised her voice. "Ok show's over, we'd better let them eat before they get really cranky."

"Shut up!" they chorused, but there was little heat in it. It was hard to keep feeling pissed off with the slowly dawning realization that the pressure was off and they wouldn't have to sneak around anymore. It was a bit of a relief having everyone know…

Ichigo's thoughts skidded to a halt. "Wait just a minute…" he began suspiciously.

Renji finished it. "How long have you all known?" he demanded. "How long was this pool goin'?"

Rukia handed them both a tray and pushed them into line before answering. "About three months," she said lightly. They gaped at her, barely noticing the wink from the server or the food that was shoved onto their trays.

"But…" Ichigo did the math. "I haven't been here that long." He exchanged a curious look with Renji as they found seats away from everyone else – though now that the initial fuss had died down, everyone seemed to be more or less minding their own business.

"Someone in Karakura figured it out before I left." Renji sighed and dropped his tray.

Rukia slid into a chair across from them and nodded. "I have the most interesting conversations with your father, Ichigo," she said brightly. "He worries so much about 'poor little Rukia-chan', with no one to look after her except her 'cold, stuck-up brother'.

"My father," Ichigo groaned. "I'm never going home again. Tell Kon he can have my body and I'll just stay here." He stabbed at something on his plate and began eating mechanically.

§

By the time they'd finished their supper, they'd begun to see the humour in the situation, and they left in a much better mood to clean out Ichigo's room. It didn't take long to move Ichigo's things to Renji's quarters: all he had was a spare uniform and a handful of books his sisters had sent 'just in case he got bored'.

"I suppose this means I don't gotta "keep somethin' slippery" in my office after all?" Renji leaned back on his couch and grinned.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "What, are you kidding?" He pointed a stern finger at his lover. "You owe me office sex!" he smirked.

Renji stared at him incredulously for a moment before he burst out laughing. "That's true, I do." A sly look spread across his face. "An' we got plenty a' time for another round now…" He sprang up. "You get the stuff from the bedroom, I'll go make sure it's clear.

Ichigo ran to the bedroom and grabbed a bottle of lotion before racing after him.

§

The 6th Division captain received the young shinigami's stammering report with more than his usual patience. After all, it wasn't every day an unseated officer was summoned to an audience with his captain to explain why he hadn't delivered his message to the 6th Division lieutenant in person and received his signature confirming its receipt, so he could understand the young man's anxiety.

"I quite understand," Byakuya said lightly. "Given the circumstances, it would hardly be fair to hold it against you." He dismissed the grateful messenger, and made sure the door was locked behind him.

He smiled to himself as he counted his winnings. Rukia had it right: a Kuchiki never got caught cheating.

END