Hello people! My name is ReluctantOptimist, but you're all free to call me Chris. :)

So, this is my first Bleach fanfiction story. I just recently became…obsessed in a sense, with the whole thing. But I know a great deal about it. But enough with that before I cross a tangent and start rambling…

Story: Bleach (Yaoi)

Rated: M

Couple: IchigoXRenji

Warnings: I use to give people warnings, but sense I'm an angst writer I think that destroys the purpose, but there is sex (boy on boy sex). That's all I can say. But this is also sort of out of my element of writing, but that is how we grow; by trying new things, and giving our best. :D

So read and enjoy. You can leave a review if you like, but I'm not complaining if you don't. I really just felt like writing this story.

***Oh and for the sake of the plot, let's all imagine that Renji is only an inch taller than Ichigo and is not towering over him as in the anime or magna, okay? Okay, awesome! Well enjoy! :)***

Prologue: Only Colors

Red! Red and black use to be all he could think about, all he could see. Crimson hair, flowing as soft tendrils fell around broad shoulders. He could only imagine how it would feel to weave his hands through rubescent locks, its sweet smell of cinnamon and raspberries enveloping and arousing him into a state of divine bliss as he only imagined the softness and smell cascading around him.

But when he wasn't dreaming about the softness of his hair or the sweet smell of raspberry and cinnamon, he was entranced by the exotic tribal markings that nearly covered his entire body. He could remember when they first met eight years ago and how those tattoos were barely seen hugging his flawlessly tanned skin, and how three years ago when he and all of Soul Society stood up to battle against the tyrant, Aizen Sosuke, the ink crawled all over him, as if it were slowly devouring his body.

The sight of it was so enthralling that he could hardly sustain the erotic heat emanating from his very being as if sending out pheromones during mating season. Just seeing those markings wrap around tone and flawless muscles made his body hot and his member erect.

He used to think about this often; his red hair and the tainted ink that marred his skin…but now…not it felt more like an obsession, as if red and black were the only colors his eyes could perceive. The sky was red and the grass was black, that's how the world spun around him.

Although, it had been three years since he beheld the sculpted frame that preoccupied his dreams, or the muscles that flexed under obsidian markings, or his long, thick maroon locks. It had been three years since he had been to Soul Society after Aizen's imprisonment, and it had been three years since he defeated a Hollow, or even seen a Hollow in Karakura Town.

Ever since his final battle against Aizen, defeating him using the Final Getsuga Tensho, he had been slowly losing his spiritual powers, and realized that the more he exert himself the quicker they dissolved. Captain-Commander Yamamoto-Genryusai forbade him from using his powers after learning his predicament, explaining that when they were needed he'd be called upon..

After so long he figured they wouldn't send for him, especially considering that they were doing one hell of a job without him. He hadn't seen or fought a Hollow for over three years, which meant that they must have everything under wraps. But he was thankful that he was still able to go to Urahara's shop and train a little, even if he wasn't allowed to use his bankai. And Rukia would come by every now and again to give him the latest updates on everyone and everything that was occurring in the Soul Society, and that made things a tad more bearable.

But now he lay in his bed, in his single bedroom flat abode, envisaging disheveled, red hair sprawled beneath him, and his tattooed face contorted in a mixture of pain and ecstasy, causing him to moan softly to himself.

"Am I interruptin' somethin'?" He jumped a mile high from the naked mattress, falling face first onto the floor. Immediately, memories began to flood his vision at the familiarity of that voice; husky and laced with masculinity that intruded on his reveries every night. He lifted himself before he turned and looked tentatively over his shoulder.

Red. Red hair blew freely in the wind as the figure crouched on the sill of his bedroom window, grinning. Those eyes, syrupy sweet and glazed over like honey. The way they bore into him sent forlorn shivers through his body.

"Renji," the dazed boy murmurs, his eyes widening as he took in all of him as he stepped through the squared frame, and a feeling of nostalgia washed over him, shudders racing through his person. He hasn't changed much in the last three years, he thought to himself, except the markings on his forehead seems to have gotten darker, and he doesn't have his hair in a ponytail. His hair danced elegantly, kissing his shoulders and back. It grew.

"What's up, Ichi?" He asked, grinning wider. He chuckled. "What'cha lookin' so surprised for?" Ichigo couldn't help but smile. It's been a while since I heard anyone talk like that.

"What are you doing here?" He noted Renji's grin fall from his face, his entire disposition becoming solemn in an instant, and his eyes looked elsewhere. Ichigo frowned.

"Captain Yamamoto-Genryusai sent for you." He replied, turning back to look him in the eyes.

Damn! Ichigo scorned himself. Did he just say something?... Mmm…those lips.. He moaned. They look so supple. Then Renji had abruptly disappeared.

The oranget's face twisted in befuddlement. "I guess I… follow him?" and without further thought he moved over to his nightstand and pulled open the drawer before grabbing a gumball and swallowing it. His soul ripped from his body, and he turned to himself. "Behave yourself, Kon."

"Hm? Where are you going?" The mod soul inquired.

"Soul Society…I think." Kon lifted Ichigo's brow.

"It's been a while hasn't it?" The berry only nodded in concurrence before he reiterated that he behaved himself while he was gone, not knowing exactly how long things would take. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever," he replied nonchalant. Then the substitute shinigami blurred out the window.

He tracked Renji's reiatsu as he jumped from building to building. This has got to be bad, he thought, Renji's suddenly critical expression finding light in his memory. He sighed, it's got to be worse than bad for him to make a face like that. He opted it would be wise to pick up his pace, and he vanished in a flash.