Omg what is this crazy woman doing uploading ANOTHER one shot series when she has five thousand other things that need to be updated??? Because I'm a writer. And as such I'm given to bouts of insanity and instability.

Also, I'm superstitious and I have 13 stories uploaded. Not cool. So I'm bumping it up to 14 with this! Maybe it was the cause of losing all my fanfics...hmm...

But! I think you'll like this one. I'm copying the amazing alice hattercandy and making an M rated one since I wanted to keep the other at T. So every single one will contain a lemon. I might sometimes put alternate versions of my T rated things in here. We'll see.

I'd been planning this for a while because I wanted to do it for BA's IchiHime FC version XXX, and they're almost done with it!! D: So I had to hurry and do this thing. So this is dedicated to you guys!!3

Anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Bleach (c) Kubo Tite, applied throughout.

Friends with Benefits

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He grasped her breast roughly in his hand as he pounded into her, her body arching and writhing beneath him. Their mouths crashed together in a passionate frenzy of lips and tongues and moans. He suddenly turned his head and bit down hard on her shoulder as he felt the hard coil within him tightening, the pleasure and tension exploding inside his head. He licked at the bite mark and moved both his hands to her breasts, beginning a squeeze and release rhythm in time to his thrusting. She cried out incoherently and scratched her short nails up his sweaty, muscular back causing him to squeeze hard on her breasts, returning his mouth to hers, wildly searching her mouth, filling her body, imprinting himself onto her, into her.

Suddenly the legs around his waist squeezed hard as she stiffened, her hips lifting off the bed, nearly screaming as she clamped around him. He let out a feral shout as he rammed deep into her, releasing, shattering inside of her. They exploded in and around each other, moving with one another in the last waves.

Finally, they stilled, his hands still on her breasts although gently caressing now, his head dropped to her shoulder, breathing hard against her flushed skin.

He wasn't sure how it had happened. It just had. They'd both been through hell and back together. No one knew the journey like they did. They understood like no one else could. There was Ishida…but he didn't know the whole story…not like they did. And then, well…there was something else between them…something they have yet to begin to explore consciously.

They hadn't planned it. But when the war was done, the loose ends tied, and the smoke cleared, he had insisted on taking her home. He wasn't about to let her out of his sight. Ever. So when they got to her apartment he again insisted on staying. Sleeping on the couch was the plan. But looking into her eyes and seeing her battle worn face, something passed between them. An "understanding" was what Ichigo had mentally labeled it. And it drew him to her, whatever it was, and pulled at him until he kissed her. Kissed her again. And again and again. Over and over. Releasing everything, sharing. Knowing.

It hadn't taken long before she was wrapped around him as he carried her to her bedroom. And it all began there. Almost every night. They never spoke much. It was as if each were afraid of what would happen if they let themselves talk. What they would say. What might end. What might or might not begin.

His family never asked questions. He didn't question why they didn't.

Ichigo rolled off of her, taking her with him. He always held her. Because this was more than just friends with benefits or booty call or whatever people normally called this sort of thing. It was…well, he wasn't sure what it was. But she was valuable – no, essential to him. He wouldn't let himself think beyond that.

And nobody knew. Or at least he hoped no one knew. He would always protect her, and that included her reputation. Absently, he ran his fingers through her long hair as her fingers traced the muscles on his stomach. Nothing could be heard in the silence except their soft breathing.

They soon quietly fell asleep.

The next morning they woke up. Showered. Dressed. Ate. Only made surface comments such as "please pass the salt" and "what are you doing your paper on".

Just like every other morning.

And just like every other morning, Orihime left first. Ichigo followed her at a distance to where he could still keep an eye on her. They got to the classroom within minutes of each other, each dodging and tolerating their respective enthusiastic friends.

Ichigo slid into his seat and glanced up at the chalkboard…and then did a double take at the date written at the top. November 27?!

"No way."

"No way what, Ichigo~?" Keigo sang out.

"Uh…I forgot that the test is on Monday."

At the mention of schoolwork Keigo looked bored, muttered something about his friends betraying him, and turned his attention to a pretty but annoyed girl in the next row over. Ichigo stared at the date in big white letters and numbers against the dark green backdrop. November 27. A year?! Already… He glanced at Orihime who was happily chatting with Tatsuki and Ishida.

It couldn't be a year since that night he'd walked her home. It just couldn't be. His eyes glanced back towards her which was more than he normally allowed himself within the span of just a few seconds in public. He had to consciously count the number of times his eyes drank from the sight of her or else people would begin to notice that he was constantly staring and then talk would start and then friends would get nosy and then that'd be the end of it. His eyes lingered a bit too long on the bounce of her hair as she spoke and he suddenly found himself looking into her grey eyes when she chose that moment to turn back slightly to look at him. Curiously, he wondered if she glanced at him often. She probably wouldn't be as lame as he was and count the number or…

Oh shit! They were staring at each other. Not good! He quickly swung his eyes back to his desk and then rested his cheek on his hand to keep his gaze pointed outside through the window. Stupid eyes. They acted as if they hadn't stared into her eyes every night…well… He blinked. How often did he allow himself to just get lost in her rainy depths?

Hold up, why would he want to do such a thing?

Oh, so now it's okay to fuck her, just not stare into her eyes. You're a real keeper, King.

Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut. Just ignore him and he'll go away.

I'm not going away since I, oh, I don't know, am you. The better, stronger, smarter part of you that you obviously never let out.

He could feel him – himself, his other self, whatever – sigh deeply when he stuck with his silent strategy.

Fine, whatever, I don't care. As long as you keep fucking her, I'm happy. Just don't get all mopey and shit about it. Tch, only you would go all emo about getting laid by the hottest chick in this fucking town. Weather turns inclement in here again and I am so taking over your ass and scaring the shit out of her, got it?

Ichigo mentally shrugged an affirmative as he vaguely noticed class had started even though they both knew nothing his hollow could do would scare Orihime anymore. She'd seen the hideous beast side of him up on that dome and yet here she was, sleeping with the monster. Every night they were together she slept peacefully next to him.

She shouldn't. She should be scared him. Hate him. Hate him for what he was, what he did, what he was doing to her. She deserved more than this and more than him. Much more.

His eyes traveled over to Ishida. Chad. Hell, even Kiego or Mizuiro would treat her better.

He took his gaze away from the better men at the sound of rain slapping against the window. Big drops…just like her eyes. His hand dropped to the corner of his desk, his fingers curling around the edge, and his eyes swung back to stare at the back of her head as it bowed over her paper and scribbling pencil.

He had to end this.

"Kurosaki-san!" the teacher cried when a loud snap-crunch filled the classroom. "Would you kindly take your vandalizing tendencies to the principal's office?!"

He scowled in confusion and then looked down at his hand that was filled with splintered pieces of wood from the desk corner he'd gripped. He blinked at it repeatedly, startled. When and why had he done that? Sure, he'd felt a sharp pain that seemed to fill every pore in his bones at the ugly thought of ending things with her, but –

"Kurosaki-san!" his impatient, angry, and slightly frightened teacher repeated.

Ichigo covered a sigh that nearly escaped his lips and glanced at the woman saturating his thoughts. She, of course, was looking back at him with big grey eyes filled with concern. He averted his gaze and stood, leaving the classroom with the shredded wood still in his fist.

The rest of the day was wasted mostly in the offices of the principal and the counselor, making sure he wasn't some violent psycho on the verge of losing it. He convinced them he wasn't, although he wasn't completely convinced himself. Finally he was down the street, waiting to take Orihime home. He saw her coming, zig-zagging this way and that, deliberately stepping in the deepest puddles with her big, blue rain boots. The sight caused a slanted smile to appear on his face. She would make for such a fun mother to her kids.

The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come as he scowled and steeled himself from thinking about where in hell that thought had come from. Suddenly she was in front of him, smiling up at him with a flicker of worry in her eyes that she was trying to cover up. He could tell she really wanted to ask him if he was all right, but she knew he'd brush it off. Because they never, ever opened up to each other, at least not verbally. Physically? Definitely. Some other cosmic level? Yeah, sure… for lack of a better explanation.

At that moment, when she almost seemed like she would actually say something, rain fell on them in bucket loads without warning. Orihime made a little sound of surprise and Ichigo, noticing she'd somehow remembered her boots but forgotten her umbrella, quickly shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her head, clutching it to her shoulders and running them down the sidewalks to her apartment building.

When they arrived she laughingly fumbled about for her keys with her slippery wet hands until finally she opened the door and they tumbled in and kicked off their shoes. He tried to shake off the rain droplets without spraying water like a wet dog and she quickly asked him to take off his clothes so they could dry and he wouldn't catch cold.

But he couldn't do that. If he did that, he knew what would come next and if the rising blush on her cheeks meant anything, she did too. And he couldn't. A year, he reminded himself. That was too long for something to go on that shouldn't have even started in the first place. As he watched her slip off her stockings, his fist gripped the wet coat in his hand so hard it would've snapped if it had been his desk again. Apparently he really, really didn't like any of this. His heart thought it was a horrible idea. So did his hollow, who was screaming and beating against his head as the hollow felt Ichigo's resolve steeling. But his head was telling him something else entirely.

"…can't," was all he could get out.

Orihime turned to him with wide eyes in the process of taking off her school sweater, her arms upraised and caught in the sweater above her head. "Eh? Do you need help?" said the girl struggling to get out of her own soaking sweater.

He licked his lips. "No…" His eyes took in her soaking white shirt underneath the sweater plastered onto her curves revealing a dark purple bra. They lowered to the wet skirt clinging to her thighs. Her sweet toes curling into the rug from embarrassment as he ogled her unabashedly. How many times had he held those breasts. How many times had those thighs straddled him. How many times had those toes dug into his calves, his back. And yet he could never get enough of her. Every time he went into her arms he felt like a man starving.

"Eh heh…" She laughed nervously and struggled a bit. "I think I actually need a little help getting this thing off though…"

For a second he studied her, a small smile lifting a corner of his mouth. Even after all this time she had no idea when she was seducing him. She just did it by being her. Against his better judgment, Ichigo walked up to her and grasped the sweater, easily slipping it off and draping it over the chair nearby.

"Here," she said, shyly taking hold of the hem of his sweater. "I'll help you."

But his hands covered hers before she could lift it up, and her eyes met his in confusion. Could he really do this? "A year." He didn't seem capable of getting out much more than that.

Orihime's eyes dropped and she turned her hands to hold his even as her heart jumped to her throat and her stomach sank. She could see it in his eyes.

It was over.

She knew one day this moment would come, although she hadn't expected it to last so long. Even then it wasn't long enough. It would never be long enough. Maybe it wasn't the best decision she'd ever made, maybe she was just setting herself up for terrible heartbreak, but who could blame her. The chance to be with the one she loved even though it wasn't ideal wasn't one she could easily pass up.

"I know," she whispered, involuntarily holding his hands tighter as his clamped around hers.

She felt his damp forehead press to the side of her head, his breath close to her ear. "We…we can't…"

Orihime squeezed his cold hands again. "I know." Her heart was breaking into a million tiny pieces as she stared at their hands, but she knew. This was the last time she'd see him like this.

He tore his hands from hers and wrapped his arms around her, holding her so tight to his chest that she could barely breathe. Her arms clamped tightly around his waist in return. With her face pressed against the damp heat of his chest, she wondered if it was so wrong to want to be with him one last time. Just to say good-bye.

She felt his lips press against her hair. "Can we…say goodbye?" She gripped the back of his sweater, twisting the fabric, and nodded against his chest in response, thanking God that he was on the same wavelength. Her fists loosened and she smoothed her hands down his back and around to the front, once again taking the hem and slowly lifting it, revealing the white oxford underneath that clung to his skin.

Reluctantly he released his hold on her and lifted his arms so that she could pull off the wet sweater. Finally she looked into his eyes, eyes that were burning with more emotions than she could count. They didn't do that often – look into each others eyes. And suddenly she wished they hadn't been so afraid.

She dropped her eyes again, and busied her hands with slowly pushing the small white buttons through the holes. It was too late to start now. She pressed a kiss to each bit of tanned skin exposed as she slipped out the buttons and put all thoughts out of her head except the thought of him. Them. Right now. He made soft sounds of approval above her as she moved lower and lower, finally at the last button and slipping the shirt off his broad shoulders. Her fingers drifted over his tight muscles that had gotten bigger and stronger in the past year. She pressed her hands full on his chest, down his abs, memorizing every inch of him as she traveled back up and ran down his arms, taking his hands in hers again.

Her fingers fell away from his as she reached up to untie her bow. His lifted to slowly unbutton her shirt, his fingers brushing the skin of her breasts making her lightly gasp as the bow in her hand slipped to the floor. Finally he pulled the shirt out of her skirt and it soon fell away from her shoulders. His fingers traveled down her shoulders, the sides of her breasts, her waist, and quickly unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the ground. She reached for his waistband and soon his pants were pooled at his feet.

Ichigo gently removed her hairpins, setting them to the side, and ran his fingers through her long, wet hair. His hands went down her back, unfastening the clasp of her bra and slowly sliding the straps down her arms. He lowered his head to kiss her shoulder, pulled her close and bent her back over his arms, leaning down to kiss the tops of her breasts, feeling her hands run tightly up his arms, gripping his shoulders as he lightly kissed her pink nipple, then the other. He straightened her back up and quickly slid out of his black boxers and kicked off his socks.

She stared at his arousal with a fiery gaze, sliding her thumbs into her panties and pulling them down over her thighs, kicking them off her foot. He reached for her cheek and threaded his fingers through her hair at the back of her head, pulling her in and until their lips touched. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and he brought his around her waist, pulling her naked body flush against his as they kissed like they would never kiss again.

They wouldn't ever kiss again.

As the thought floated through Ichigo's head, he pressed into her harder, kissed her deeper, slower. He would make sure this would last as long as possible.

His arm moved under her buttocks, lifting her and taking her to the bedroom. He fell down on the bed with her, his lips never leaving hers as they continued to kiss long and deep. He tore his lips from hers and with aching tenderness he slowly kissed down her neck and chest, alternating between gently and roughly massaging her breasts.

A cracked moan escaped her lips as his hot mouth closed around her nipple. His tongue and teeth teased and tortured her breasts until she gripped his hair and pulled him up, roughly kissing his lips and rolling them over. She returned the torturous kisses down his neck, nipping his shoulder, and moving down his chest, lightly flicking her tongue over his nipples. He groaned out her name and gripped her head gently, her hair sprayed over his chest as her mouth moved down his stomach.

He pulled and rolled them over again before she could go lower, placing a lingering kiss on her lips before quickly continuing down her breasts, her stomach, his lips brushing over the triangle of auburn curls. Her aroused scent drove him crazy every time, and he was quickly losing his desire to go slowly. He was desperate for her. His hands pushed her thighs open wider and without warning he pressed a tender kiss to her and then his tongue dipped and licked up the length of her. She let out a half moan, half scream at the sudden contact, her hips lifting and pressing into him as he ravished her, overwhelming her until she soared and crashed, incoherent words falling from her lips.

He kissed her there one last time and slowly kissed his way back up to her heaving breasts and then her lips. Catching him off guard, she moved them so that she straddled his thighs, her hands pressed onto his stomach. She leaned down to kiss him deeply and then lifted back up to guide him towards her wet opening, and slowly closed around him. The muscles in his neck strained as his head pressed into the pillow, his hips lifting to go deeper.

He gripped her hips as she began to move, groaning loudly as she leaned back slightly, gripping his thighs with her hands, moving in and out of him. He watched her move, her head falling back, her breasts bouncing with their movements. Suddenly his grip tightened and he lifted her completely off of him, twisting them around till she was beneath him and immediately ramming back into her. She gasped and moaned in pleasured surprise, meeting each of his desperate thrusts.

Suddenly he stopped and leaned down to press his mouth hard against her ear. "Look at me," he whispered hoarsely. Her eyes that had been squeezed shut fluttered open in surprise, and looked at him with glazed passion. He grabbed her hands and pressed them into the pillow high above her, interlacing his own fingers with hers, and finally starting up the rhythm again as he stared heatedly into her eyes.

He leaned down and kissed her deeply, his movements becoming more and more frenzied. Finally and yet too soon they each reached their climax, moaning and panting against each others mouths, gripping each others hands tightly.

Ichigo fell and pressed his face into her neck, still buried within her, their hands still clenched.

"I can't…"

Orihime bit back a sob. "I know," she choked out.

He lifted his head to press his lips against her cheek. "No…you don't. I can't…" Ichigo slowly lifted himself up to look at her, the tears she was struggling to fight back strengthening what he was he going to say. The thought that this was the last time made him sick, made tears burn at the back of his eyes, made him tell her through clenched teeth, "I can't leave you."

Slowly, her eyes widened in shock. "What?"

"I can't do it. I can't leave you. It…It's been tearing me up inside every since that idiotic thought entered my head this morning."

He slowly began pulling out of her, clouding her thinking. She pulled him back before he was out of her. "Stay."

Ichigo pushed back into her, causing renewed arousal for both of them. He fought through it and looked into her eyes. "You…you deserve better. But I-"

"I love you."

He stopped short, staring down at her in shock as her face turned deep red, but her eyes shown with honesty. She couldn't. Not after…not after everything that –

"And don't you dare say I deserve better. You are the one I love, the one I've always loved…I could never love anyone as much as I love you."

"Hime…" He leaned down and captured her lips in a crushing kiss. He pulled back and whispered against her cheek, "It took me almost losing you to my own stupidity to realize it, but I love you, Hime." He kissed her again, relief, happiness, complete and utter satisfaction washing over him.

"So," she murmured against his lips, her mouth lifting in a wide smile. "This wasn't goodbye."

"No. It was hello."

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Hmm, I think it was a little rushed...and not too good...and was going for angsty but I think I got too fluffy there at the end...I'm not too good at the whole "I love you" moments... ANYway, hope you liked it somewhat at least xD

Also, some may think, dude...a YEAR?! But here's where I'm coming from. In something like that, a relationship so to speak, time can flash and the months pass by like telephone poles. You know how you don't want to do something and so you put it off and you put if off and before you know it weeks have passed, months, years? Well, these two REALLY didn't want that moment to come. They didn't even want to think about anything that might lead to thinking about changing things, humans and their opposition to change and all that. And that kept Ichigo from realizing what he was feeling and it kept Orihime from confessing what she was feeling. Anyway, at first I did just a month, but it didn't feel right. A year felt right for me. I don't know...I wasn't sure if I got it across in the actually fic so I thought I'd explain what I was thinking, for what it's worth xD