Ichigo is trying to concentrate. Kisuke is not getting this concept.
“Your body must be Visa,” he drawls in Ichigo’s left ear, voice a husky promise of what could happen if Ichigo would just put down the schoolbooks. “Because it’s everywhere I want to be.”
Ichigo makes a face. “I’m studying,” he reminds his lover, and bends further over his book, shaking his head at the awfulness of Kisuke’s words.
The shopkeeper hums in amusement. “That didn’t work, huh? How about this one?” He gets closer, drapes himself across Ichigo’s back, one hand trailing suggestively up and down Ichigo’s bare, left arm. “I lost my phone number. Can I have yours?”
“You don’t use a phone,” Ichigo says crossly and stares doggedly at the numbers, equations, and letters of his Calculus final.
Kisuke is undeterred, his front pressed warmly to Ichigo’s back, his hair tickling the nape of Ichigo’s neck, making the pressure in his jeans all the more noticeable. “Okay then. If your left leg was Thanksgiving and your right leg, Christmas… could I visit you between holidays.”
Ichigo’s pen stops mid-solving and he turns his head, enough to catch Kisuke’s eyes. “That was plain awful.” He grimaces. “Where the hell’re you getting these from?”
“That’s my secret,” Kisuke replies mischievously and takes the moment of Ichigo’s distraction to swoop in for a kiss, a light peck on the lips accompanied by a teasing slide of his fingers down Ichigo’s arm to encircle his wrists. “Baby, you must be a broom because you swept me off my feet,” Kisuke adds, the words a murmur against Ichigo’s lips, his eyes dark with intent.
Ichigo sighs, free hand purposefully shoving papers and books further away from him on the desk. “You win,” he says, rolling his eyes at the childish look of glee on his supposedly older lover’s face. “But only so you’ll stop using those ridiculous lines.”
“They worked, didn’t they?” Kisuke asks, stepping back enough to get a grip on Ichigo’s desk chair and whirl the younger man to face him. His hands grip the arms as Kisuke leans forward, putting them nose to nose. “You’re not studying anymore, are you?”
“Yes, yes, your powers of irritation are unparalleled,” Ichigo teases, getting a fistful of Kisuke’s haori and dragging their mouths closer together with an audible growl, “So kiss me and get rid of this problem you started.”
“Your wish is my command.”