[Bleach] Minutes to Midnight – Firsts II

It was awkward and Gin wasn’t sure why. This sort of thing should come natural to him, to Ichigo. But then, neither of them had any real experience in this arena. Ichigo had none and as for Gin’s experience, the less he spoke of it, the better. And he didn’t care for the copious amounts of literature the perverted shopkeeper had given him either.

They kissed, and that much Gin was confident of. Ichigo’s tongue moving carefully against his, their bodies pressed together, the heat in the room amplified by their twining reiatsu. Gin’s heart pounding in his chest and Ichigo’s face flushed, probably an echo of Gin’s own. His hands stroking down Ichigo’s back.

The kiss was slow and steady, explorative and tasty. Until Ichigo pulled away, his hands smoothing down Gin’s chest before finding the obi, toying with the knot. His face burned with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment.

A low growl resonated in Ichigo’s throat as he jerked the knot open and the obi fell by the wayside. “I don’t know how to make this sexy,” he said, voice a touch exasperated, if only with himself. “So this is the best you’re going to get.”

Gin’s unsavory past experience fizzled away in the back of his mind. This was nothing like Matsumoto and he was glad for it. So damn glad that he wished he had a deity to thank for it.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said, feeling oddly confident now, oddly relieved. “The sex part comes after. Or during if you really want it that way.”

Ichigo’s blush deepened, his ears turning red, but it didn’t bank the heat in his eyes, or the desire and the intent. “You like embarrassing me, don’t you?”

Gin chuckled to himself, tugging off his overrobe and letting it slither to the floor. “Only a little,” he admitted, and then reached for Ichigo, one hand curling around the teen’s face to pull him in for a kiss as the other hooked in Ichigo’s obi, loosening the knot so that it fell free.

Ichigo’s noisy outcry was muffled by Gin’s lips, and their bodies came together again, lacking one of several layers of clothing. It came easier after that, more natural, Gin’s hands deftly peeling away layers of white as Ichigo struggled and quickly overcame the robes draped over Gin’s figure.

When they finally came together, skin to skin, it was even simpler. Gin’s mouth traced a hot trail across Ichigo’s jaw, nibbling at his sensitive throat, making his lover moan. Ichigo’s hands kneaded his skin, pressing them together, his arousal leaving a wet streak on Gin’s thigh. The awkwardness faded, leaving behind desire and comfort, the twining of their reiatsu all the reassurance Gin ever needed.

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