(no subject)

[moonsheen]

Since it's summer and I have no more papers in the way, no dumb excuses, and am a hopeless masochist, I think I'll go with what all the cool kids are doing and open up the drabble meme again. You know the drill: Gimme series, characters, situation. And if it doesn't immediately break my brain (...chira yes, I AM looking at you) I'll write a short piece of god-knows-how-many-words-I-Am-Bad-At-This in response. So let's get to it.

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[moonsheen.livejournal.com]

Chad x Byakuya can be summed up thusly: '...' '...' '...' '...(kiss me you fool.)' The end. Here. Have some dumb shinigami rolling around.


Kuchiki Rukia was perched on a bed that wasn’t hers, in a world that wasn’t hers, with a bag of chips that sure as hell wasn’t hers, with her legs bent and a smirk that would have been a lot more dangerous if the bag weren’t dangling in her teeth, swinging temptingly back and forth. She paused, considered the situation--and the very angry looking man collecting himself across from her-- and leapt clear just as he lunged. Aburai Renji caught her on the rebound, feathers exploding behind him from a busted pillow, fingers catching her shoulder, momentum taking them clear across the room and right into the closet door. Which worked well, Rukia decided, even with her head ringing; she held him off with a knee and pulled the door open. The sudden plunge they both took was enough for her to bang her elbow, roll away, and end up with her shoulders against the blankets, and knees on the floor. She fixed her skirt. Spat out the bag. Reconsidered, and struck while she had the upper hand. Or was at least the one who hadn’t crashed headlong into that wall.

He recovered faster than expected—he was getting used to the body, even if he professed no great affection for it—rolled, met her on the assault and a second later she was pinned, the enemy’s eyes were narrowed, there were teeth at her throat, teeth and tongue and hot breath and she supposed he hadn’t really been that hungry after all. She punched him on the shoulder and he shoved her back and bit down a little harder—probably drawing blood, there was already a bump on her skull, and a growing bruise at her elbow. Physical reflexes were slower than either would have liked, but sensation worked well enough, and pain registered, but it didn’t register as any particular priority. Rukia scoffed, drove her nails into Renji’s arm, and felt him grin against the underside of her chin, all fang. She laughed, not terribly impressed; she told him so. He snorted, caught her fingers (she’d been readying to yank his hair, he hated that, she knew), and rose over her, leaving her neck cold. One hand holding down the offending wrist, grabbing her bare knee with the other—and she butted it into his palm, hard, still not impressed, and if it had been his stomach he would have been reeling. It wasn’t, and he held fast, pushed his head down and his mouth against her jaw and she had to admit that was a bit better—

The blast of cold water wasn’t. Neither was the fact that it was scented and Kurosaki Ichigo was standing just a few steps back, wielding the spray bottle like a gun in one of those Western movies he watched sometimes. He was stoic in the face of a pair of interrupted, flailing, damp and now lemony fresh shinigami, or at least couldn’t be bothered with more than a strong twitch. “No,” Ichigo said, delivering another spritz that halted an untimely murder attempt. “Not. In. My. Closet.”

[harukami]

I know I passed this on through Chira, but... *SNICKERS* Just fantastic. Utterly IC for all involved, sexy and funny and I just lost it with the giggles at the end. Like breaking up dogs in heat, man, dogs in heat.