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tsukishine's one-liners.
Title: Ways to (Not) Survive a Vice-Captain Meeting
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: PG-13, I guess? I’m bad at ratings.
Word Count: 698
Characters: Ikkaku, Nemu
Summary: A little hanky panky in the public forum.
At the head of the table the 1st division vice-captain droned on about something or other. Probably important but DAMN was it boring as hell. Ikkaku dropped his chin in one hand. Renji looked like he was starting to doze off in his seat. Ikkaku would’ve thrown something at him if he weren’t so far away. Hell, Rangiku was filing her nails- did ANYONE take this stuff seriously?
Well, Hisagi over there looked really into it. Ikkaku scowled to himself. Kiss ass.
Finally the vice-captain ended his spiel on whatever the hell he was talking about. And he gave the floor to Ise. Ikkaku literally had to bite back a groan. He stretched his legs out- how could anyone sit for so long?
When he did, though, he felt his leg bump into something. Mumbling out some half apology, Ikkaku looked up across the table and saw Nemu looking right back at him. Actually looking, like, LOOKING at him and Ikkaku felt his heart speed up half a beat.
That thing he bumped into was back and it was moving up his leg. It curled over his calf and rubbed slowly down his shin. Ikkaku swallowed hard, but Nemu didn’t break their gaze. When she lifted her foot away, he nearly sighed- part in relief, part in disappointment. And then he felt a pressure at his crotch.
His eyes bugged and he nearly snapped out a ‘What’re you doin’??’ but managed to clamp it down to a vague, low grunt. Her foot pressed against him again, softly and inquisitively, trying to learn the feel of him from this new angle. She shifted her foot, toeing lower and stroked at his balls. Ikkaku jolted slightly and felt his face heat up. He put his face in his hand again, this time biting his palm to keep from making any sound.
Of all the times to be bald, he thought vaguely. She stroked him through his uniform and he felt himself harden with each coaxing press- fuck, how can someone’s FOOT be that damned talented?
Ikkaku shut his eyes tight, trying not to rock into Nemu’s foot, his other hand twitching on the tabletop and praying to any god that was willing to take a sudden convert that he’d remain inconspicuous and that the meeting would end like NOW.
“Madarame-san.” Fuck. “Is something the matter?”
He glanced up and found the entire table looking at him. Ikkaku offered Ise the most neutral expression he could muster at the moment. “Peachy. Never better.” He replied, voice deeper and not nearly as steady as it should be.
“You look a little flush,” Kotetsu asked, “are you feeling alright?” Iba was snickering softly down that table. Ikkaku glared at him, that man was dead after this.
“Great. Could we just get on with the meeting?”
But Ise was still frowning at him. “If you’re not feeling-“
“Dammit, woman, get on with it! Some of us got better things to do than sit in a fucking meeting all day!”
The whole room went still. Except for Iba and now Renji who had to put their heads down, trying to laugh as quietly as possible. Hisagi was trying to hide a smile and Rangiku just shook her head at him. Ikkaku’s face heated up and he slid down in his seat, happy to play the repentant boy.
“Sorry.” Ikkaku said, now able to take Nemu’s foot from his lap. “If you’d continue, Ise-fukutaichou.”
She frowned even more severely at him, but cleared her throat, waiting for everyone’s attention again. Ikkaku glared across the table at Nemu. She looked just as expressionless as ever, but he learned to read the soft edge of her lips and light in her eyes. She was laughing at him.
Che. He ran his fingers over the soft arc of her foot and was reward with her jolting a bit in her own seat. He let Nemu’s foot go and she retreated to her side of the table again. But she could read him just as well as he could her and she couldn’t help but to flush a little in anticipation. After this meeting, boy was she going to get it.
tsukishine's one-liners.Title: Ways to (Not) Survive a Vice-Captain Meeting
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: PG-13, I guess? I’m bad at ratings.
Word Count: 698
Characters: Ikkaku, Nemu
Summary: A little hanky panky in the public forum.
At the head of the table the 1st division vice-captain droned on about something or other. Probably important but DAMN was it boring as hell. Ikkaku dropped his chin in one hand. Renji looked like he was starting to doze off in his seat. Ikkaku would’ve thrown something at him if he weren’t so far away. Hell, Rangiku was filing her nails- did ANYONE take this stuff seriously?
Well, Hisagi over there looked really into it. Ikkaku scowled to himself. Kiss ass.
Finally the vice-captain ended his spiel on whatever the hell he was talking about. And he gave the floor to Ise. Ikkaku literally had to bite back a groan. He stretched his legs out- how could anyone sit for so long?
When he did, though, he felt his leg bump into something. Mumbling out some half apology, Ikkaku looked up across the table and saw Nemu looking right back at him. Actually looking, like, LOOKING at him and Ikkaku felt his heart speed up half a beat.
That thing he bumped into was back and it was moving up his leg. It curled over his calf and rubbed slowly down his shin. Ikkaku swallowed hard, but Nemu didn’t break their gaze. When she lifted her foot away, he nearly sighed- part in relief, part in disappointment. And then he felt a pressure at his crotch.
His eyes bugged and he nearly snapped out a ‘What’re you doin’??’ but managed to clamp it down to a vague, low grunt. Her foot pressed against him again, softly and inquisitively, trying to learn the feel of him from this new angle. She shifted her foot, toeing lower and stroked at his balls. Ikkaku jolted slightly and felt his face heat up. He put his face in his hand again, this time biting his palm to keep from making any sound.
Of all the times to be bald, he thought vaguely. She stroked him through his uniform and he felt himself harden with each coaxing press- fuck, how can someone’s FOOT be that damned talented?
Ikkaku shut his eyes tight, trying not to rock into Nemu’s foot, his other hand twitching on the tabletop and praying to any god that was willing to take a sudden convert that he’d remain inconspicuous and that the meeting would end like NOW.
“Madarame-san.” Fuck. “Is something the matter?”
He glanced up and found the entire table looking at him. Ikkaku offered Ise the most neutral expression he could muster at the moment. “Peachy. Never better.” He replied, voice deeper and not nearly as steady as it should be.
“You look a little flush,” Kotetsu asked, “are you feeling alright?” Iba was snickering softly down that table. Ikkaku glared at him, that man was dead after this.
“Great. Could we just get on with the meeting?”
But Ise was still frowning at him. “If you’re not feeling-“
“Dammit, woman, get on with it! Some of us got better things to do than sit in a fucking meeting all day!”
The whole room went still. Except for Iba and now Renji who had to put their heads down, trying to laugh as quietly as possible. Hisagi was trying to hide a smile and Rangiku just shook her head at him. Ikkaku’s face heated up and he slid down in his seat, happy to play the repentant boy.
“Sorry.” Ikkaku said, now able to take Nemu’s foot from his lap. “If you’d continue, Ise-fukutaichou.”
She frowned even more severely at him, but cleared her throat, waiting for everyone’s attention again. Ikkaku glared across the table at Nemu. She looked just as expressionless as ever, but he learned to read the soft edge of her lips and light in her eyes. She was laughing at him.
Che. He ran his fingers over the soft arc of her foot and was reward with her jolting a bit in her own seat. He let Nemu’s foot go and she retreated to her side of the table again. But she could read him just as well as he could her and she couldn’t help but to flush a little in anticipation. After this meeting, boy was she going to get it.
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Date: 2005-12-29 08:01 pm (UTC)kimper :)
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Date: 2005-12-29 10:05 pm (UTC)