A/N: Hello everyone, and welcome to my newest IchiHime fic! Yes, that's right, for those of you who missed it (somehow) this is an Ichigo/Orihime oneshot! Now, admittedly, I didn't really get too engrossed in plot – but that doesn't mean there isn't one, I promise! Also, I feel I should warn you all: this story isn't rated 'M' solely because of Ichigo's mouth…err, I mean, his language usage…the rating is also because there is not a little bit of citrus in this story. So, if you don't like citrus, turn back now! (Or skim over it and read the rest, up to you!) But, either way, I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: Let's just say that, if I owned Bleach, chances are high that Ichigo would have woken up when Orihime went to visit him…because I'm like that. LOL

Unordinary Circumstances

Ichigo Kurosaki bit back a groan as he watched Orihime Inoue lean across the desk in front of his. She and her friends were comparing art projects again, and Chizuru had placed hers flat on the desktop in order get Orihime to lean across, giving the other woman a good view of Orihime's generous cleavage. As usual, Orihime was completely oblivious to Chizuru's scheme. This time, however, Ichigo couldn't bring himself to feel annoyed, because for some reason, his imagination was betraying him this morning.

As a result, he found himself shifting silently in his seat and clenching his jaw tight as she leaned across to get a closer look at the drawing. Her chest was protruding outward, which was only emphasized by the one arm she had awkwardly tucked beneath it, and her backside stuck out noticeably, the hem of her school skirt riding dangerously high. His hands twitched and he quickly laced his fingers together over his desk to hide the reaction.

He swallowed thickly as the memory of her hand in his suddenly danced across his mind. He remembered clearly how strong the urge had been then, in Hueco Mundo, to pull her into his arms and kiss her fervently. He had been so overwhelmed by finally having found her, and defeating Grimmjow, that he'd very nearly given in to that urge. And now, sitting in their classroom and watching her, that same feeling was overtaking him again. Only this time, he couldn't blame it on their extreme situation.

Even so, it wasn't the sudden need to hold her – to kiss her – that nearly had him leaping out of his seat. No, that he could blame entirely on the same friend who had put Orihime in that compromising position in the first place.

As Orihime rambled on about how much she loved Chizuru's drawing, even bringing up her hand and pointing to a specific part, Chizuru herself swung into action. She moved out of her seat, loudly declaring how touched she was that Orihime was so fond of her work, and reached to pull Orihime into an embrace. One arm reached out, intending to wrap around Orihime, very blatantly reaching lower than necessary. She brought her other hand up, beginning to curve it around the top of Orihime's chest.

Ichigo felt himself reacting before his brain could catch up, his usual protective reflex apparently in overdrive as his hands clenched into fists and he immediately propelled himself to his feet – to do what, he had no idea.

His chair clattered loudly against the linoleum floor even as Tatsuki, whom Ichigo had completely forgotten about, violently removed Chizuru from Orihime. But the damage was done, and Ichigo could feel his face flushing as everyone – except for Chizuru, who was holding her head – looked over at him curiously.

Without saying a word, Ichigo bowed his head, shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and walked quickly out of the room. Damn, he thought as he pretended to ignore the stares, I'm such an idiot. What the hell is wrong with me?


No one in the classroom spoke until Ichigo was gone. He hadn't even stopped to shut the door behind himself.

"What's his problem?" Keigo asked loudly after a long, semi-awkward moment.

Ichigo… Orihime thought as she stared after him. She couldn't sense any hollows, but she turned to look over at Chad and Uryuu just in case. Their expressions of similar confusion confirmed her suspicions, but did little to ease her mind.

Plastering an easy smile on her face, she turned to Tatsuki and Chizuru, who were arguing about something, and declared, "I'll be right back!" before promptly turning and running from the room.

Her concern only mounted as she followed Ichigo's spiritual pressure down the hall.


He barely felt his fist connect with the wall as he let his eyes droop. He'd already planted his forehead against the wall, and his other fist was curled at his side. Damn. What was I thinking? If nothing else, I don't have the right to react like that…. And Chizuru does shit like that every day, anyway, so why the hell did I let it get to me this time?

Of course, he knew the answer; he'd known it for a while, if he was honest with himself.

But it's not like I wasn't in love with her yesterday, dammit, so why did I lose control this time?

Gritting his teeth, he clenched his fists tightly again and growled, "Dammit!"

A gentle, unexpected voice interrupted his thoughts, even as he realized that a familiar spiritual pressure had settled beside him. "Ichigo?" She didn't need to voice the rest of her question; it was obvious in the way she'd said his name.

Ichigo lifted his head, surprised that she'd followed him out of the room. He looked over at her and wanted to grimace at the concern shining in her dark gray orbs. Uncurling his fists, he pushed a half-step away from the wall and allowed a brief, small, smile to curve his lips. "I'm alright, Orihime," he assured her calmly.

She bit her lip hesitantly, clearly wanting to know what had set him off. "Are…you sure?" she finally asked.

Taking a deep breath, he let his still-raised arm fall to his side loosely and inclined his head. "Yeah," he promised. "Sorry to worry you."

The concern vanished from her expression and she smiled brightly. "Oh, don't apologize! It's okay, really!" She laughed softly when she was done, reaching up with one hand to play with her hair.

As he watched her smiling and laughing, and he realized that the faintest tinge of pink had settled on her cheeks, Ichigo could feel that urge bubbling up within him again. With a silent sigh, he slipped his hands into his pockets and said, "C'mon, Orihime; we should get back soon or we'll be late."

Orihime lowered her hand and blinked for a second, before giggling in embarrassment and nodding. "I guess you have a point," she said. She stepped back, then, and clasped her hands easily behind her, silently asking him to take the lead.

A brief smirk curved his lips as he began walking, staying slow enough to keep her beside him.


"There you are, Ichigo!" Keigo exclaimed as Ichigo followed Orihime into the room a minute later.

Ichigo slid a sideways glance at his obnoxious friend and lifted an eyebrow silently.

Keigo required no encouragement as he almost immediately continued. "What was up with you earlier, anyway? I mean, it's not like you to totally freak out like that…. Were you late for some secret club meeting?"

Rolling his eyes, Ichigo walked past Keigo and grumbled, "Give it a rest, Keigo."

He was saved from providing further explanation when their teacher walked into the room, and the class immediately took their proper seats.


Another day went by, and Ichigo quickly realized that he was going to have to learn how to control his reactions to, and regarding, Orihime. It seemed like the longer he kept his distance, and the harder he tried to maintain their established relationship, his urges and reactions just became that much stronger. Of course, the biggest problem was that he didn't entirely want to control himself.

I feel like I'm turning into a fucking pervert, he reflected silently as he sat down on the rooftop Wednesday afternoon to eat his lunch with his friends. Again that morning Ichigo had simultaneously wanted to strangle Chizuru and been disturbingly grateful to her for her scheme of the day.

It wasn't that he couldn't see past her body; in fact, Ichigo had decided, that was a large part of the reason he was so attracted to her. He knew who she really was, deep down on the inside, and she was beautiful.

He sighed quietly and stabbed his juice-box with the accompanying straw – a little harder than necessary.

Across from him, Mizuiro looked up and frowned thoughtfully before asking, "Hey, Ichigo, are you-?" He cut himself off as his eyes moved past Ichigo, watching something apparently interesting.

Before Ichigo could turn to get a look – having realized that Uryuu and Chad were watching as well – someone was suddenly standing beside him.

"Ichigo," Tatsuki began, looking straight at him. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Curious, Ichigo shrugged and set down his juice carton before pushing himself to his feet and replying, "Yeah, sure, Tatsuki."

When he was standing, Tatsuki silently turned and began walking away.

Ichigo followed her calmly, his arms hanging loose at his sides as they walked.

She didn't speak until they had rounded a corner and were completely alone. As she leaned her back against the railing that lined the roof's edge, she crossed her arms over her chest and said quietly, "It's about Orihime."

He frowned at her words, and the heavy tone of her voice. Ever since she had confronted him about Orihime's disappearance – when Orihime had been taken to Hueco Mundo – he and Tatsuki had had a strange understanding about Orihime. She somehow knew that Ichigo was at least as protective over Orihime as she was, and she never asked questions when the two of them went off somewhere. Which could only mean that whatever was going on, he wasn't going to like it.

"What is it?" he asked after a moment.

"Apparently," Tatsuki began, lifting her gaze to meet his solidly, "sometime last night, someone tried to let themselves into Orihime's apartment."

Ichigo's eyes went wide. "What?"

Inclining her head, Tatsuki continued. "She said she heard the doorknob rattling because she'd only just gone to bed, so the apartment was quiet. She wasn't sure what the noise was at first, but once she figured it out, she went over to see who it was." Tatsuki paused to take a breath, and her fists clenched as her arms fell to her sides.

"She called out, and the rattling stopped. When she called out again, she heard pounding footsteps going down the stairs, so she opened the door and looked out, but all she saw was their back as they sprinted off across the street." When she'd finished, Tatsuki shook her head in frustration.

Why the hell didn't she call me? Ichigo wondered silently. He was having an extremely difficult time focusing on what Tatsuki was saying, as all the possibilities of what could have happened to Orihime began flooding his mind.

"Anyway," Tatsuki said after a minute, "the reason I'm telling you all this is because I have practice after school, and I can't walk Orihime home. I don't always, but after last night, I'm uncomfortable thinking about her being home alone. So I was wondering if you were available."

"Of course I am," Ichigo assured her practically before the words had left Tatsuki's mouth. "No way in hell am I leaving her alone after something like that."

Tatsuki inclined her head. "I thought you might feel that way." She paused, finally unclenching her fists and smiling faintly. "I know you're not doing it for me, but, thanks anyway, Ichigo."

"Don't mention it," Ichigo replied as they both turned to head back to their respective lunch groups. Dammit. If that bastard comes back tonight, it'll be his last mistake.


"Orihime," Ichigo called after school that day, as she was about to head out.

Obligingly, Orihime looked over at him as she snapped her book bag shut. "What is it, Ichigo?"

Slinging his own case over his shoulder, Ichigo stepped up to her and asked, "Are you doing anything this afternoon?"

Orihime blinked, caught off-guard by his question. She failed to notice Uryuu's raised eyebrow as he and Chad watched their exchange silently. After a moment, she shook her head and said, "I don't have any plans. Why do you ask?"

Holding her gaze seriously, Ichigo replied, "Tatsuki told me about what happened last night. I don't want you going home by yourself." I don't want you being home alone period, he added silently.

"Oh," Orihime began, before smiling reassuringly and adding, "you really don't need to worry about something like that, Ichigo! I'll be fine, I'm sure!"

His trademark scowl deepened into a familiar frown as he said, "Of course I need to worry. I'm going with you, Orihime."

Realizing he had made up his mind on the issue, her bright, reassuring smile became a softer, more grateful one, and she said, "Thank you, Ichigo."

As his lips tipped up in a faint smile that shone as much through his eyes as his expression, he said, "Come on, then."


After explaining the situation, Uryuu and Chad decided to walk with them to Orihime's apartment. Ichigo felt only a minor twinge of relief when they arrived to discover that the apartment was still locked, and nothing within indicated that anyone had been there at any point in the day. But that didn't ease his apprehension about what might happen after the sun went down.

"Thanks so much for walking me home," Orihime said as they all filed inside. She led the way into her living room, adding, "Can I get anyone anything?"

"No thank you, Orihime," Uryuu replied politely, setting his book bag on the floor as he took a seat at her table.

Chad shook his head silently when she turned her gaze to him.

"I'm fine for now," Ichigo assured her truthfully as he settled himself between Chad and the open space Orihime would take.

"Alright, if you're sure," she accepted, going over and putting her book bag away before returning and sitting between Ichigo and Uryuu.

"Orihime," Uryuu began after a moment, subconsciously adjusting his glasses as he continued, "could you tell us exactly about what happened last night?"

"Oh, well, it happened pretty much like Ichigo said," Orihime said. "The doorknob was jiggled a few times, and then I heard someone running away after I called out. When I looked outside, all I saw was someone's back. I'm pretty sure it was a guy, but all I know for sure is that whoever it was was wearing a dark shirt, or sweatshirt, or something. And dark pants."

"So you couldn't tell anything distinguishable about whoever it was?" Uryuu pressed.

Orihime shook her head. "No."

"What about his or her spiritual pressure? I assume it was unfamiliar, but, was there anything unusual about it?" Uryuu asked after a moment.

Putting a finger to her chin thoughtfully, Orihime replied, "No, I don't think so. I don't remember sensing anything like that."

"So whoever it was," Ichigo began, staring a hole into the table, "was probably an ordinary human." He paused and looked up, adding somberly, "But that doesn't mean he isn't dangerous."

"I agree," Chad said.

"As do I," Uryuu added.

"Even if he is dangerous," Orihime interjected, "I'm sure whoever it was won't come back. For all we know, it might've just been some poor homeless person hoping to find an empty apartment. I mean, all my lights were out, and I wasn't making any noise or anything."

"Don't tell me you're feeling sympathetic towards some guy who tried breaking in to your apartment!" Ichigo half-pleaded, looking over at her with widened eyes.

"No, of course not!" Orihime assured him, waving one hand as if to dismiss the notion. "I just said that as a sort of example."

"Perhaps," Uryuu said, "but that example is a fairly unlikely scenario in all reality." Here he paused and locked gazes with Ichigo before almost hesitantly continuing. "However, I do have to agree with Orihime. The statistical chances of a random burglar attempting to enter the same home two nights in a row – especially when he was nearly caught the first time – are very small. More than likely, that will be the only time she has any troubles with him."

"Exactly!" Orihime declared immediately. "That's what I was trying to say!"

Chad frowned, obviously disliking their point, but he didn't seem to have a solid point to argue, so he said nothing.

Ichigo, however, was not so easily deterred. Scowl firmly in place, he said, "What, so we're supposed to say 'oh, well, never mind then,' and just forget about it? What if he does come back again? What if she doesn't hear him next time? What if-?" He cut himself off as his mind processed the thought that had nearly come out his mouth.

What if she's asleep? Or taking a bath? The very idea of her being so alone and vulnerable made him sick to his stomach.

Barely resisting the urge to pound his fist against Orihime's defenseless table top, Ichigo shot to his feet and stomped over to where he'd deposited his book bag.

"What're you doing?" Uryuu asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"…Ichigo?" Orihime asked almost simultaneously.

Standing upright again, bag firmly in hand, Ichigo looked back over his shoulder at his friends. Orihime had pushed herself to her feet, but she hadn't actually moved away from the table. Forcing his frustration out of his voice, Ichigo met her gaze calmly and asked, "Orihime, is it alright with you if I crash on your couch tonight?"

From their expressions, clearly none of them were expecting him to ask a question like that.

A flush rose to Orihime's cheeks, but she nodded faintly and said, "Yes, that would be fine."

Inclining his head in silent gratitude, Ichigo then shifted his gaze to Uryuu and Chad. "Could you two stay with her until I get back? I need to get a few things from my place."

"Of course," Uryuu replied calmly.

Chad nodded. "Mhm."


"You really don't have to stay over if you don't want to," Orihime said a short while after Uryuu and Chad had departed.

They sat at her table, across from each other, and as she spoke Ichigo realized he had been staring out her main window. Turning his attention back to the young woman across from him, he offered her a reassuring smile and said, "No one's forcing me to be here, Orihime. I offered, remember?"

She broke from his stare, her eyes landing on an invisible spot on her table, and she said softly, "I know. And I don't want you to think I'm not grateful; I am, really. It's just that…I don't want to be a burden to you, and I feel like I'm enough of one in battle, that you really shouldn't have to take care of me in these silly normal situations, too."

Ichigo frowned. This wasn't the first time she'd mentioned seeing herself as a burden to him, and he hated knowing that poisonous thought still swam around in her mind. So instead of replying immediately, he took in a breath and stood, calmly walking around the table as she watched him.

When he was beside her, he kneeled down, angled so that he could face her properly. As he'd expected, she automatically turned so that she was facing him as well. Confusion and curiosity were battling for domination on her face, but she kept quiet.

"Orihime," he began firmly, "you are not a burden – to me or anyone else. So please stop thinking otherwise."

He paused, to give her a moment to absorb his words, but he continued speaking the moment he saw her preparing to argue the point. "And just because this situation is comparatively 'normal,' that doesn't mean it's any less significant."

Again he paused, and a gentleness he reserved almost exclusively for her softened his expression as he reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as he finished. "I need you to remember; I protect you because I want to, Orihime. I don't care what the situation is. If it's dangerous to you, I want to be there, either to help you through or to give you a way out. It's my choice."

Orihime opened her mouth to respond, and almost immediately pursed her lips tightly shut once more, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she offered him a sheepish smile. She fidgeted with her hands, which were clasped in her lap, and finally whispered, "Thank you, Ichigo."

She sniffled, and he realized that there was a faint glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. As her lips curved up in a smile, one broke free and rolled slowly down her cheek.

Unthinkingly, Ichigo lifted his hand from her shoulder and curled it so that his knuckles grazed her skin gently as he used his thumb to wipe away her tear. The softness of her skin distracted him for an instant, and he found himself tucking a portion of her long, auburn hair behind her ear as he quietly replied, "You don't need to thank me, Orihime."

His fingers trailed over her skin as he slowly withdrew his hand, sending pleasant tingling sensations reverberating throughout her body. Her breath stilled for a moment, and then Orihime lifted her hand and covered his, holding his palm against her cheek. She felt her face heat up at her own brazen actions, but she refused to look away. And in the full lighting of her living room, she realized that his cheeks were a little pinker than usual, too.

Ichigo had been in the middle of mentally berating himself for his actions when Orihime reached up and stilled his hand, holding it against her cheek. His mental ramblings came to a screeching halt the moment her hand covered his. He knew he should pull away. He could feel his supposedly-iron-clad resolve dissolving at an alarming rate. But her eyes were shining with something – something he couldn't identify – and he had no desire to look away.

A long moment passed in silence as they stared into each other's eyes, and then Ichigo shifted, lowering his one raised knee to the ground and simultaneously raising his free hand deliberately.

Orihime dragged in a breath when his other hand cupped the other side of her face carefully, and she couldn't stop her mind from wondering if maybe, just maybe, he was actually thinking about doing what she wanted him to do. She certainly wasn't brave enough to initiate something like that.

He knew he shouldn't be doing what he was doing. And he knew he certainly shouldn't be doing what he was about to do. But none of that mattered to him at the moment; because she was right there, practically in his arms, and he wasn't dumb enough to think he could find a better chance.

Giving in to his long-standing desire, Ichigo leaned forward, keeping his hold loose and moving slowly enough to give her the opportunity to pull away. She didn't, however. Instead, when he drew near, her gray eyes began to droop and she leaned ever so slightly forward as well.

When their lips met, Ichigo knew, for him, that there was no going back. She was responding to his kiss more eagerly than he'd ever dared imagine, and as her lips moved against his, he felt his body coming alive. Her hand released his, and she skimmed it along the length of his arm, finally curling her fist into his shirt at his shoulder. Her other hand, which had been resting in her lap, lifted and came to rest right behind his other shoulder.

Ichigo slid his newly-freed hand beneath her hair, supporting the back of her head as his other hand trailed lightly down her neck and over her shoulder, slipping around her and subsequently pulling her closer. She leaned willingly into him, adjusting her grip subconsciously.

When his lips parted and his tongue slipped out to trace her lips, Orihime parted them willingly, reaching up and curling her fingers in his bright orange hair as he deepened the kiss. His tongue danced with hers tantalizingly before moving on to explore the new territory, and his arms readjusted to wrap around her waist securely. Her other arm slid up his chest and curled around his shoulders as she tilted her head slightly, silently asking him to take the kiss even deeper.

Neither gave any thought to the outside world, so lost in the moment and the feel of the other in their arms, until their lungs began to burn insistently, begging for oxygen.

Reluctantly, Ichigo loosened his hold on her and slowly withdrew from her lips. He couldn't quite contain the smirk when he heard a soft whimper escape from Orihime as they parted, despite the deep breaths she immediately began dragging in. He pulled back only as much as necessary, keeping his hands resting on her hips.

She smiled up at him, sheepishly again, and curled her fingers loosely into the collar of his dark blue T-shirt. "Wow," she breathed, her face immediately flushing when she realized she'd said it aloud.

He chuckled softly and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers and murmuring, "Yeah."

He saw the moment something clearly dawned on her, and she tensed slightly in his arms, though she didn't quite pull away.

Looking back into his eyes, Orihime hesitantly asked, "Ichigo…what about…what about Rukia?"

Bewilderment settled over him and he lifted his head enough to raise an eyebrow as he asked, "Rukia? What's she got to do with any of this?"

Orihime's blush returned, and she looked away in shame as she admitted, "I know you…I know you have…special feelings for her."

Special feelings? Ichigo repeated internally. It took a moment before he realized what she was saying. As a reassuring smile curved his lips, he thought, Silly girl. Aloud, however, he replied, "Rukia is important to me. She's practically family." He paused and lifted one hand from her waist, in order to tilt her chin up, encouraging her to meet his gaze again.

When their eyes were locked, he added, "But that's it. Orihime, I promise, I only love you."

He made a muted choking sound when he realized, a heartbeat later, what he'd just said. He hadn't quite meant to let that slip out, especially considering less than an hour ago she hadn't even known he was attracted to her. Shit. Since when am I the one with the big mouth?

Orihime's eyes went wide at his declaration, but her surprise was quickly overrun by a sudden surge of joy. I was wrong…oh, thank goodness, I was wrong! "Ichigo," she breathed, letting her arms curl again around his neck loosely. A new smile lit up her face and she said softly, "I love you, too."

An almost dopey smile took over his face and he pulled her against him again, dropping a kiss on the corner of her mouth. "That's good to hear," he replied. His voice was thick with something neither of them was used to, but they both had a pretty good idea of what it was.

"Kiss me again," Orihime whispered against his lips.

He didn't reply verbally, choosing instead to comply with her request.


They were curled up on her couch a couple of hours later, having decided to watch a movie. Ichigo sat on the far right of the couch, one leg crossed over the other, with Orihime pressed against his side. She was tucked comfortably beneath his arm, using his shoulder as her headrest, and both of her hands were clasped around his, which was resting over her abdomen. The now-empty popcorn bowl sat, forgotten, on the other end of the couch, not far from Orihime's feet.

The movie was over, and Ichigo picked up the remote with his free hand to stop it, so that they didn't have to sit through the credits. As he set the remote back onto the arm of the couch, Orihime moved as if to stand, and he reacted on impulse.

Instead of removing his arm from around her, and thereby granting her freedom of movement, he tightened his arm slightly and pulled her back against him. The motion caused her to half-fall into him, and he caught her easily with his other arm, looping it around behind her shoulders.

She squeaked in surprise and looked up at him.

He grinned flirtatiously as he leaned down towards her and pressed his lips to hers for another kiss.

Orihime returned the kiss eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying one hand in his hair, even as the other slipped beneath the collar of his shirt. She used her arms to pull herself against him even as their tongues began to dance. Exciting sensations coursed through her as they kissed; sensations that were only intensified when she felt his warm fingertips caress the bare skin at the small of her back. Whether he had done it deliberately, or her shirt had ridden up, she didn't know, and she sincerely didn't care.

The feel of her soft, bare skin beneath his fingers was almost more than Ichigo could handle, and yet he couldn't bring himself to stop. Soon his whole hand was pressed flatly against her back, and their tongues were dancing again, the exploration temporarily forgotten. He couldn't get enough of her, but fortunately for him, she didn't seem to have gotten enough of him, either.

When they parted again, dragging in ragged breaths, Ichigo bowed his head ever-so-slightly and pressed a gentle kiss against her jaw. She tilted her head to the side and tightened her hold on him, holding him even closer. Encouraged, Ichigo pressed another kiss slightly further back, though still along her jaw-line. Then he angled his head and pressed yet another kiss – lingering just a bit longer this time – on the underside of her jaw.

A soft moan slipped past her barely-parted lips and she flushed, but he proceeded, unabashed, to press more kisses down the side of her throat. Each kiss lingered just a little, and Orihime let her eyes drift shut once more as she enjoyed the sensations he was giving to her. She felt as if she were melting into his embrace.

And then he reached the base of her neck, and he kissed that spot just a bit harder. His lips opened against her skin and whatever it was he did, Orihime found herself curling her fingers again and arching into his touch with a gasp. He slid his tongue lightly over that same spot, then, and pressed a soft, tender kiss there before he finally raised his head enough to look into her hooded eyes.

"Sorry," he breathed huskily, his brown eyes a shade darker than usual. "I guess I got a little-"

Orihime silenced him, placing one finger delicately against his lips, before curving that hand to dance across his jaw as she said softly, "Only apologize if you don't intend to do that again."

Resting his forehead against hers again, the corner of his lips curved upwards and he said, "I think I'm addicted to you already."

She giggled softly, re-wrapping her arm around his neck, and quietly whispered back, "If it makes you feel any better, I've been addicted to you since we were fifteen."

Ichigo made a soft, thoughtful noise, and chuckled almost bitterly as he murmured, "I guess I've been kind of an idiot, haven't I?"

Orihime shook her head ever-so-slightly. "Not at all. I had convinced myself you'd never see me this way, and I didn't want you to know how I really felt."

With a faint grunt, Ichigo replied, "Well, either way, I'm glad we're both over that now, 'cause I refuse to go back."

"Me, too," Orihime breathed a moment before she pressed herself forward and kissed him again.

Heat exploded between them as they kissed, and suddenly Orihime was straddling him and tugging at his shirt even as Ichigo's hands slid beneath the hem of hers, skimming over the delicate skin of her abdomen. Their lips parted, Orihime released his shirt to hold her arms above her head, and Ichigo wasted no time in removing her shirt and tossing it aside. Orihime took her turn giving his shirt the same treatment, and then his lips were against hers again, kissing her hungrily.

Her hands skimmed over the muscles on his chest carefully, before she finally wrapped her arms again around his shoulders. When her hand curled into his hair, she felt her nails scrape against his scalp and he rumbled against her. One of his arms curved tightly around her waist and suddenly he was standing, his other hand supporting her head. Orihime immediately wrapped her legs around his hips as he began to move.

They didn't break the kiss until Orihime felt her head connect with her pillow, and realized she was laying on her futon, with Ichigo positioned above her, one hand on her waist and the other wrapped around her shoulders, supporting her neck. When she dragged her lips from his he bowed his head again and kissed a blazing trail down her throat. As he licked and sucked over her collar bone, she let her head fall back and barely even noticed as she released a series of soft, pleased moans.

Ichigo forced himself to stop before he dipped his tongue into the valley of her ample bosom, and inhaled deeply through his nose as he looked up to meet her gaze again. "Orihime…" he began, not sure what he should say.

"Please, Ichigo," Orihime whispered pleadingly, running her hands along his shoulders. Her face flushed despite everything when she softly added, "I want to be yours indisputably."

He paused at her words, and smiled lovingly as he pulled himself up a bit until his face was directly above hers again. Planting a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead, he whispered, "Only if you're sure, Hime. I won't love you any less if you'd rather wait."

Her flush faded and she danced the fingers of one hand lightly through his hair as she smiled and replied, "Trust me, Ichigo; I'm absolutely sure. I want this with every fiber of my soul."

Ichigo nodded faintly and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips for a long minute. His newly-regained control slipped right through his fingers, however, when her slim hands slid down his chest and began fumbling with his belt buckle. Suddenly he was painfully aware of just how restricting his jeans had become, so he pushed himself to his knees and gently lifted her hands off of his belt.

He kicked aside his pants and boxers in one fluid movement, but before he could reclaim his previous position over her, Orihime sat up and reached behind herself. He watched silently, letting the moment wash over him, as she released the clasp of her bra and shrugged easily out of it. Then she repositioned herself in order to shimmy out of her skirt and panties, all of which quickly joined Ichigo's already-discarded clothing.

Their eyes met again, and they both smiled before she lowered herself back down and reached out for him. He didn't require a second invitation, easily re-positioning himself, using his forearms to keep his weight mostly off of her. Her fingers reached up, dancing lightly over his chest and shoulders before cupping either side of his strong jaw as she smiled up at him.

They stayed like that for a long moment, simply staring into each other's eyes and breathing in synch, until Orihime curved her hands around behind his head and pulled him down for a kiss. As soon as their lips touched, it felt like a second first kiss for both of them, and it quickly turned passionate. They took turns exploring the other's mouths, and then Ichigo's lips again trailed lower, confidently moving across her slim throat and over her collar.

He didn't hesitate this time as he lowered himself enough to comfortably wrap his lips around one of her breasts. She sucked in a breath at the hot, moist contact, and arched into him, moaning happily. Deciding he liked that reaction, Ichigo carefully grazed his teeth over her sensitive skin, and was immediately rewarded as her nails scraped just a bit against his. Shifting his weight then, he lifted one hand and cupped it over her other breast, massaging gently.

Orihime moaned as he caressed her with his lips, his tongue, and his hand. She'd certainly entertained several fantasies over the past couple of years about what this situation might feel like, but never had she considered the depth this pleasure was reaching.

After he had switched his attentions to the opposite breast, Ichigo began tenderly kissing his way down her stomach. Some part of him was amazed at his own actions, but it was so distant that he couldn't even register it as he settled himself between her thighs. Lifting his head, he skimmed his scorching gaze up her body until his eyes locked with hers, and as he watched her face, he gently slipped one finger inside of her.

She gasped at the unfamiliar sensations that were suddenly shooting through her. Another moan escaped her lips as he pumped his finger in and out of her several times. And then a second finger joined the first, and for a brief moment, her vision went white. "Oh," she gasped, flexing her fingers over his shoulders.

"Is that okay?" Ichigo asked softly, his hand stilling as she adjusted around him.

"Yes," she breathed. "Please," she added as he began to stroke her again, "now."

Ichigo watched her for a moment longer as he deliberately moved his hand in and out, and then he withdrew his fingers completely. He crawled back up her body, until he could look directly into her eyes, and he opened his mouth to say something when one of her legs curled around his hip, and he felt himself bump against her slick entrance. He braced himself to plunge inside of her when he remembered something, and he paused.

"Hime," he began. His voice was oddly strained, even to his own ears. "I don't want to hurt you."

She smiled sweetly and traced the side of his face with one hand. "It's alright," she promised softly. When the hesitation in his eyes didn't fade, she added, "I want this, too, remember?"

He paused a moment longer, searching her expression for any signs of hesitation or fear, and when he found none, he nodded slowly. Turning his head, he pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand before he met her gaze again. Then, carefully, he eased himself inside of her.

Her arms wound themselves tightly around his back and she sucked in a breath sharply as he pushed past her barrier and buried himself fully within her. For a long, terrible moment, the pain overrode everything else.

It was his voice that brought her world back into focus.

"Orihime," he called gently, trying not to hate himself for causing her such obvious pain. "Do you want me to stop?"

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes again, and then she smiled up at him, and the tears he'd feared never fell as she said, "No, Ichigo. I'm okay now." To emphasize her point, she rocked her hips experimentally against his.

Ichigo groaned involuntarily at the pleasurable sensations suddenly scorching through him. Leaning down, he captured her lips in a feverish kiss as he began pumping into her at a barely-controlled pace. He didn't pause when their lips parted, bowing his head and suckling on a spot at the base of her neck. She still seemed to enjoy that action as she moaned loudly and threw her head back, digging her nails into his skin.

Soon they were both breathing heavily as he thrust into her in a strangely synchronized rhythm. Orihime locked her legs around his hips as she felt herself approaching the edge – an edge she'd never dreamt she'd find. Her mind was strangely quiet as her body focused on the pleasure that was quickly escalating within her.

And then he found it, that spot he'd been searching for. He knew he'd found it when Orihime opened her mouth and released an incredibly erotic moan that sounded suspiciously like his name. Her reaction encouraged him to quicken his pace, not wanting her to reach that peak by herself. His whole body quivered as he rapidly approached that same precipice, and just as her walls clenched tightly around him, the most intense pleasure he'd ever experienced washed over him and he cried out. Despite his outcry, he clearly heard her scream out in pleasure as her body tensed around his for a long moment.


They were still breathing heavily, though their heart rates were beginning to return to normal, a short while later as they laid together on Orihime's futon. Ichigo was on his back, one hand behind his head, and Orihime was curled against his side, using his chest as her pillow. His other arm was wrapped tightly around her, holding her close while she absently traced the contours of the muscles on his chest.

Softly, Orihime asked, "So, does this mean I can call you my boyfriend now?"

Ichigo choked on his own breath at the unexpected question. Still, he found the humor to respond by saying, "Well, that is the easiest way for you to be mine indisputably, isn't it?"

Orihime giggled and lightly flicked his abdomen. "I was being serious!" she scolded, not a trace of anger or frustration to be found in her voice.

He gave her a squeeze and said, "I'll be your boyfriend if you'll be my girlfriend, how does that sound?"

She smiled against him and replied without hesitation, "Like a dream come true."

It was his turn to smile softly as he whispered, "I love you, Hime."

"I love you, too," she said, before giggling faintly again and adding, "and I like that you call me that."

His eyes widened as he realized what she was talking about. When did I let that slip? Shrugging internally, he concluded it wasn't exactly a big deal. My not-so-secret-anymore nickname for her isn't exactly as big a deal as a couple of other things that have come up tonight, anyway.

"Ichigo?" Orihime began sleepily a minute later.

"Hmm?" he questioned, his own eyes beginning to droop.

"I'm glad that you decided to stay with me tonight…thank you…." She trailed off as sleep finally overtook her, her hand stilling in its exploration.

That's right, he thought, his eyes opening wide again as he remembered how it all had started. He frowned as he cast his eyes in the direction of Orihime's living room, and the front door beyond. Uryuu's probably right, he reminded himself. Chances are, whoever it was won't come back. Besides, if he does…I'll know.

He stayed awake long enough to pull her comforter over their naked bodies and lightly brush some hair out of her face, before his own tiredness claimed him and his brown eyes closed.


His eyes snapped open sometime later, though his mind took a moment longer to wake up, and for several seconds, he felt incredibly disoriented. He was still tired, and it was still dark out, but he knew there was a reason he'd woken up. And then he heard it.

That rattling, he thought a heartbeat before realization dawned. "Shit!" he hissed, doing his best to quickly and gently slip out from beneath Orihime. She hadn't woken up, though she did scrunch up her nose at the movement – a gesture he would decide was cute when he had the time to appreciate it.

The moment he could move without disturbing her, Ichigo dove for his pants and yanked them on in a rush, barely remembering to grab his Combat Pass – just in case – as he moved from the bedroom.

He was half-way through the living room when he heard the distinctive click of the deadbolt sliding back. He paused, glancing back at the door to the bedroom that he'd somehow had the foresight to close behind him, and belatedly decided he should probably have woken her up. Too late now, he mused as the door slowly swung open.

Knowing better than to stand in plain view of the opening door, Ichigo moved to the side and crept closer. He had no intention of allowing their mystery intruder all the way inside Orihime's apartment.

The first thing he saw was a booted foot, attached to a leg covered in black denim. The figure began stepping through, and as soon as he had a good idea of how tall the intruder was, Ichigo clenched one fist and threw it forward, around the half-open door. A satisfying crunch greeted his ears as he felt his fist connect with the other man's face. Enough of his fist collided with his nose that he knew he must have broken it.

The intruder cried out in alarm and pain when he suddenly had a solid fist reversing his forward momentum. "Fuck!" he cursed, backing reflexively away from the attack and clutching his nose.

Ichigo grabbed the door and slammed it into the man then as he pulled his arm back, using it to force him entirely out of the apartment. Then he moved, not satisfied with simply forcing him out, so that he could see the man whose nose he'd just broken.

The man's face was mostly covered by a clichéd ski-mask, but his eyes were wide as they locked with Ichigo's. And then anger clouded them and he extracted what looked like a kitchen butcher knife from a hidden pocket.

"Who the fuck are you?" Ichigo growled, not even pretending to be daunted by the knife.

"Doesn't matter," the man snarled, lunging forward.

His knife-wielding skill left a lot to be desired, in the opinion of the Substitute Soul Reaper. Ichigo easily blocked the attack with his forearm, knocking the man's wrist and sending the knife clattering over the man's shoulder and down to the ground below. Quickly adjusting his angle, Ichigo grabbed the man's wrist and held him in place as he planted his other fist into the man's stomach.

The intruder grunted in pain, trying to yank his arm back and failing to see Ichigo's foot until it was planted on his collar bone and shoving him backwards painfully. He stumbled back, onto the small porch-like entrance, and he looked up again as Ichigo aimed a kick at his head. Somehow, he managed to dodge most of the kick, taking it on the chin instead of the temple. The force of it still had him backing into the railing.

Ichigo held his fists clenched at his sides as he tried to decide if this human intruder was worth killing. Or, rather, as he tried to remember why he shouldn't kill him.

The man lifted the bottom portion of his ski-mask and spit out a small amount of blood before growling, "You're fucking dead, kid!" Then he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a switchblade, flicking it open and swinging it out as he moved forward.

Refusing to back down, Ichigo met the challenge, swinging one fist out and moving to block the knife as he had before. He grunted when the man managed to get a shallow slice on his arm, having anticipated the block, before he was properly able to deflect it. Twisting the man's wrist painfully, he shoved his knee into the man's chest and then wrapped both fists in his sweatshirt, hauling him to his feet.

When their eyes were level, Ichigo snarled, "If you ever come back here, I swear I'll kill you, got that, you bastard?"

The man nodded awkwardly, and Ichigo released him with a shove as he stepped backwards. He saw the intruder cut a glance at his discarded switchblade and was unsurprised when he tried to dive for it.

The intruder's hand curled around the hilt of the blade just as Ichigo's foot collided with his face, knocking him backwards uncontrollably. His hands flew up and the switchblade spiraled out of his grasp, sailing over the railing to land somewhere alongside the kitchen knife.

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear," Ichigo growled, wishing he could really justify running this man through with Zangetsu. "Leave before I break every bone in your body, you son of a bitch!"

"Okay!" the man choked – it seemed Ichigo's kick had done some damage. "You win!" As he spoke, sounding slightly slurred, he cautiously maneuvered toward the stairs.

Ichigo turned with him, keeping himself between the intruder and the open doorway. He said nothing as the man turned and ran as quickly as he could down the stairs. The would-be intruder was aware enough to stop and pick up his weapons, but one poorly-hidden glance back up to see if he was still being watched seemed enough to convince him not to try again.


"Ichigo…?" Orihime called cautiously after the sound of combat had ceased. She was standing in her bedroom doorway, clad in Ichigo's previously discarded shirt, which she had picked up from the floor in front of the couch. Her arms were wrapped subconsciously around herself as she waited for a response.

Ichigo finally turned his attention away from his recent opponent when Orihime's gentle voice reached his ears. Calmly, he turned and stepped back into the apartment, pausing to check the lock. It seemed the man had picked it somehow, without breaking it, for which Ichigo was grateful.

After he'd closed and re-locked the door, Ichigo turned to his girlfriend and smiled reassuringly. "I chased him off; I doubt he'll come back again."

She relaxed visibly at his words and took a step forward, asking, "What did he want?"

Ichigo, who had begun walking towards her, stopped and paused as he realized he hadn't asked that question. Ashamed at himself, he lifted one arm to scratch his head and replied, "Uh, I didn't exactly ask that…sorry, Hime."

Orihime sucked in a breath and suddenly started forward, familiar concern clouding her eyes. "You're hurt!" she exclaimed, her gaze locked onto his arm.

Belatedly, Ichigo remembered that the switchblade had managed to slice him during the confrontation. Holding his arm out at an awkward angle, so that he could see the wound, he said, "Oh, yeah. I forgot already."

"Souten kisshun," Orihime commanded softly as she stepped up beside him. Immediately, her hairpins flashed and a golden energy surrounded the wound.

They both watched silently as the wound quickly disappeared. When it was completely gone, she looked up, into Ichigo's serious brown eyes, and smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Ichigo."

Reaching out, Ichigo wrapped his arms around her and held her close, lowering his head until his lips were beside her ear before he whispered, "I'll always be here for you, Orihime."

Orihime wrapped her arms around his torso and let her eyes close as she rested her head on his strong shoulder. "I know. And I'll always be grateful."

Ichigo lifted his head enough to press a tender kiss to her temple before he pulled back slightly and said, "C'mon, Hime; it's late, and we have school in the morning."

Trying, and failing, to muffle a yawn, Orihime stepped back and smiled tiredly. "You do have a point," she admitted.

Wrapping one hand around one of her smaller ones, Ichigo cupped her face gently with his other hand and tilted her head up to steal a brief kiss before leading the way back to the bedroom.


"You should have at least torn his stupid mask off," Tatsuki declared after Ichigo and Orihime had finished their story. Edited, of course, to omit certain details.

Ichigo was leaning back in his seat, his arms crossed behind his head, and Orihime was leaning against the desk beside his, her hands currently splayed on the desktop to help support her. Tatsuki stood on Orihime's other side, frowning, with one fist on her hip. Uryuu was standing on the other side of Ichigo's desk, and Chad stood slightly behind Ichigo, both of them listening silently.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright?" Ichigo grumbled. "I was more focused on trying to get him to get lost. Besides, I'd probably recognize him if I saw him again."

"Sure," Tatsuki agreed sarcastically. "If he wanders around Karakura Town wearing a ski-mask."

"I got a good look at his eyes, and he lifted up the bottom part of the mask for a minute after I'd kicked him," Ichigo pointed out. "I may suck at remembering names, but I'm good with faces. And voices."

"The main point here," Uryuu interrupted before Tatsuki could press the issue, "is that, after two consecutive failed attempts, the intruder isn't likely to return. Whatever it was he was after couldn't possibly seem worth the risk of getting beaten a second time."

Tatsuki shifted her attention to Uryuu and said pointedly, "Or he could get more determined, and come back again, but with a gun this time."

Orihime gasped, standing upright as she exclaimed, "Do you really think he'll do that?"

"No," Ichigo responded immediately, uncrossing his arms and sitting forward. "But even if he does, I'll be ready for him."

Both Uryuu and Tatsuki lifted curious eyebrows at this declaration, even as Orihime lowered her arms, a faint smile curving her lips.

"You do realize that you don't actually live at Orihime's, right?" Tatsuki inquired, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Ichigo didn't let her implications intimidate him as he said calmly, "We talked about it on the way to school this morning, and I'm gonna stay with her a couple more nights, just to be safe."

Tatsuki frowned, but took a deep breath before she relented, "I suppose that's a good idea, actually."

Suddenly Keigo was leaning around Uryuu excitedly, exclaiming, "Wait, did I hear you say we're having a sleepover at Orihime's place? What fu-!" He was rudely interrupted by Tatsuki's elbow, which had lodged itself in his chest with enough force to knock him backwards.

As he fell, groaning, and Tatsuki leveled a dangerous glare at him, Ichigo closed his eyes and calmly said, "Grow up, Keigo. There's no sleepover at Orihime's."


Saturday morning, Ichigo had Orihime pinned against her kitchen counter, her head thrown back and one hand buried in his messy orange hair as he massaged her neck with his lips and tongue, when her phone rang. He grumbled something under his breath in irritation as she gently pushed him back in order to reach for the offending device. When she lifted it, in order to read the display, he moved to stand behind her and sighed in resignation at the name on the read-out.

"Good morning, Tatsuki!" Orihime greeted brightly as she put the phone up to her ear. She smiled silently up at Ichigo, as Tatsuki began talking, when he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, just beneath one of her hairpins. As she reassured Tatsuki that everything was still alright – it had been two nights now since the intruder's return – Ichigo took her hand and led her back to the living room.

He stopped when they reached the couch and squeezed her hand before sitting down. He was about to reach back up, to pull her onto his lap, when Orihime saved him the trouble, promptly settling herself on his lap and leaning back, using his shoulder and outstretched arm as a headrest. His other arm curled around her midsection, holding her securely against him.

After a moment, Orihime spoke again, saying, "Oh, I'm sorry Tatsuki, I sort of already have plans for today… but I promise to make it up to you!" She paused for a moment, and then added, "Yeah, of course, I haven't forgotten!"

Ichigo sat patiently and listened, not quite able to make out Tatsuki's words, and after another minute Orihime wished her friend a good day and pulled the phone away from her ear, clicking the 'end' button even as she twisted around on his lap.

Tossing the phone onto the couch beside them, she leaned in and nipped teasingly at his chin, whispering, "What was it we were going to do today again?"

He bit back another groan as he skimmed his hands across her back, over the shirt – his – that she'd slept in for most of the night, and huskily replied, "Well, I was going to take you to that new donut shop for lunch, before we go see the movie, but…if you keep this up, we might have to put that off."

Orihime sat back, straddling him, and bit her lower lip thoughtfully as she let her fingers dance across his bare chest. Her gray eyes danced with mischief and she said softly, "We still have a couple of hours before lunchtime – can't we do both?"

Ichigo smirked, and her fingers hooked themselves into the waistline of his sweatpants. "Yeah," he replied, using one hand to pull her to him, "I suppose we can."

The End

A/N: Well, there it is! I hope you enjoyed it! As it turns out, my idea of IchiHime fluff is not a little smutty…but I think there was still enough regular fluff to totally qualify! LOL Anywho, please review and let me know what you thought!