Someday they'd get to finish a fight.
Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Bleach!
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Ichigo rolled over and gazed at his ferocious lover in the dim morning light.
Damn! How the hell did we end up here again?! Seems every time we start a fucking fight this is what happens! Not that I'm complaining mind you, I would just someday like to finish whipping his damn ass!
Most people's faces looked softer in sleep, laxer, content in the peaceful world of their dreams; the tense, hard face he was staring at most certainly did not. He'd never seen anyone else slumber with an evil smirk permanently implanted on their features!
Geez! He's even a fucking demented, crazy ass in his sleep. Does he not know how to just freakin chill?
Rolling over to face the curtain covered windows, he winced, all the cuts and bruises from last night coming back to haunt him. Smirking, he accepted them with pride, knowing that each and every last one was worth it.
Zaraki sure is one hell of a lover.
That limitless strength of his sure made for some good times, Ichigo silently grinned. He debated getting up, but determined he was too sore to bother for now. He had nothing to do this morning anyway, he decided, rolling over to catch up on some more sleep.
They sure as hell hadn't slept much last night.
The insane captain beside him snored loudly, apparently not doing anything in moderation.
There was just something intrinsically twisted about him, Ichigo firmly believed. No one else understood quite how he could behave as he did. He was definitely cracked in the head, most of the other captains had decided.
Yeah. He could be the poster child for a new shinigami handbook, "How To Break A Brain."
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