Epilogue: Come on, Baby I want to Party

And when it was all over, I felt him all over me like dirt on my skin. I couldn't get it off no matter how hard I tried or wanted to. However… I had no desire to wash him off of my skin. I wanted him to linger with me, if only in the memory of my flesh. There, I would remember that dance. My first dance. Our first dance

"Renji." I heard someone say. It was a voice deepened by passion. I tried once to get my voice out, but it refused to obey me. At my silence, the red-haired deviant stopped his ministrations on my neck. "My name. Renji."

"I…. Ichigo." I managed, my fists making their weak bearings on his slowly shedding shirt.

"Hn." He pulled away, yanking his shirt back upon his shoulders with a careless effort. "Nice name."

His dismount was sudden, and it knocked the rest of my energy out of me. I couldn't even move from my shamed spot against the wall save to sit upright and proper. I could not even adjust my pants to repair my modesty.

"Ichigo." Renji's red hair had fallen out of its ponytail and cascaded over his shoulders like a shimmering blood colored waterfall. He was pulling it back and fastening it with a rubber band. The bastard didn't even seem phased by what had happened, and I was on my last goddamn leg. "If that was your first time – and it sure as hell felt like it – " my anger-and-heat flushed face reddened deeply with a new emotion, embarrassment " – then I suggest you sit for a while and I'll come to get you later. I don't live too far from here, y'know. I'm in the SS district."

"Keh…" my chest rose and fell with the motions of breathing, "Like hell. Take a…a hike, pineapple-boy."

With a subconscious tug at his hair, he smirked and walked inside with an aggravating swagger in his perfect hips. "Suit yourself, chickie-baby. I hope your friends remember you're out here." I could hear the smirk on his voice." If you got any with that attitude."

WHAM!

" . . . "

The cold air did well to sober my up quickly and efficiently. Already, passion was pouring out of my veins and was replaced with anger and regret. Him and his damn song pierced me, and where had he left me?

In an alley. Pant less. Out of energy. Out of mind. Out of sorts.

And even when I closed my eyes, all I could see was his face. That dominating smirk as he played with my (if only minutes ago) glorious member. He knew just how to get me going. He could knead the sensitive flesh and run his fingertips along the underside, making me cry out like a virgin bitch in heat. It was pathetic. It was disgusting. It was degrading.

God, I want it again…!! I burst into sobs upon my upturned palms.

I could not deny that with this shame and embarrassment came a perverse sort of pleasure that made my loins churn with guilt and – dear God – desire. It was eating away at me like a burning grain of sand would eventually erode at my insides. I had let him go. He offered me a bed and another shot at having him…and I had let him go.

The sounds of bass were still carrying through that brick wall, though all I wanted at that point was to go home and shower every touch, nibble, caress, kiss and fluid he left to remember him by off of me and into the darkest sewers of hell. My sobs mixed with the pounding "Da-na-na-na's" of the nightclub, and from this new beat of remorse and techno was born a new, yet all too familiar beat:

Come on

Baby, I want to party

Fin

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Disclaimer: Bleach and its charectors do not belong to me

The song "Keep On Moving" and its lyrics do not belong to me (though I wish I could remember the name of the artist). The song appeared in Tokyo Drift. My sister let me listen to it, and I loved it so much, the above story made way into my brain.

I hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing. Stories over, and thanks for all of your happy birthdays!

I really appriciate your comments, and I'm sorry if I didn't answer any questions. I'm surprised I found time to load this onto at all.

Thank you all!