Categories > Anime/Manga > Bleach
Problematique
Ichigo finds himself strongly attracted to Renji. Ichigo involuntarily voyeurism becomes deliberate, and he finds it harder and harder not to act on his desires.
?Blocked
“Thanks God for shitty construction.” thought Ichigo as he leaned his head against the bathroom wall. There was no insulation in the apartment, that prevent some one from listening in on someone. Muffled grunts and moans leaked between rooms, and the tiled drywall in front of him shook each time Renji’s headboard slammed against it from the other side.
One of Ichigo’s hands pressed the wall next to his head, feeling for each rhythmic shake. The other had made its way to the front of his jeans, where it massaged the growing bulge. He didn’t want to be doing this. But He knew he was invading Renji’s privacy, even if Renji doesn’t know about it. He just couldn’t seem to stop himself for masturbate. He’d spend weekend afternoons sitting in the living room, watching Renji standing there, stripped to his boxers mostly drunk from coming back from Rangiku drinking party. They’d talk and laugh like everything was fine, but Ichigo wasn’t just making jokes, he was memorizing Renji tattoos, that mostly covering his face and upper body; he was fantasizing.
And now he was eavesdropping. He popped open the button on his fly and pulled down the zipper, reaching into his boxers and wrapping his hand around his now fully-erect cock. The mystery woman’s coy giggle wafted through the walls. “Shut up,” Ichigo whispered harshly, trying to block her out. He listened for Renji, for some moan of pleasure that he could imagine was his doing. He didn’t have to wait for long. A deep, hungry moan made its way through the wall as Ichigo slid his hand up his member, squeezing just a little as he approached the head. He turned around, leaning his back against the wall, feeling the dull thuds against this back, his ass. He reached into the bathroom drawer and pulled out a bottle of lotion. Squirting some into his hand, he returned to stroking himself, trying to match the rhythm that was pounding against his spine.
Whoever that mysteries girl was, she wasn’t shutting up. Ichigo closed his eyes, forcing his ears to ignore her and search for Renji. He found the deep, ragged breathing he was looking for and focused on it, imagining it brushing his neck. The wall started to shake more quickly, and he increased his own speed to match it. Renji wasn’t just breathing now, he was grunting, and moaning. Ichigo luxuriated in the sound. He slipped his hand back down to his base and teased his balls a little, letting his fingers drag over them as he slid the cook of his thumb back to his length. He could hear Renji getting louder, and faster. He lost track of the rhythm and just began to stroke wildly, feeling the bump of each new finger slipping over the oh so sensitive spot where his shaft met the head. His free hand reached out towards the toilet paper and ripped of a few sheets as his hips trust forward. He forced them back against the wall, wanting to savor every vibration. Ichigo felt the pleasure building inside of him but forced it back, not wanting to cum before Renji. He bit his lip, trying to swallow his orgasm, but happily gave up the effort when the rhythm broke and a thick, satiated grunt came through the wall. He barely managed to muffle its equal as he shot into the wad of toilet paper, letting the passion course through him, shaking his whole body and almost knocking his legs out for under him.
He stayed there, leaning against the wall for a minute, trying to even out his breathe and slow his heart. Tossing the used toilet paper into the toilet, he flushed it away and began to vigorously wash his hands, trying to get the smell of lotion off from his hands. Looking the mirror to verify that he was presentable, or at least didn’t look like had just jerked off from the sound of his roommate’s activities, he opened the door and checked to see if anyone was in the hallway. He may not look like he’d just been masturbating, but he was still in no mood to make small talk.
He hurried down to his own room and closed the door behind him, dropping himself on his bed and covering his eyes with the crook of his elbow. His mind was reeling as he couldn’t remember when it had all started. He had known Renji for years now, but couldn’t put his finger on the exact moment (or even the approximate month) when that friendship had turned into desire. There was just something about him; his somewhat mocha skin was beautiful, and the tattoos that covered his upper body and face only added to it. His long red hair, intense eyes, perfect lips; Ichigo had to admit, if he was going to get a crush on a guy, he’d chosen a good one.
A knock at his door stirred him from his thoughts. Without waiting for a response, Renji opened the door and stuck his head in.
“Hey, we were going to order something. You want?”
“Nah,” replied Ichigo, keeping his eyes covered. “I’m good.”
“’Kay.” Renji closed the door and padded back down the hall. Ichigo rolled over, tucking himself into the corner of his bed and trying to sleep. Images of Renji kept rolling through his head, and more comforting than sheep, carried him off.
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One of Ichigo’s hands pressed the wall next to his head, feeling for each rhythmic shake. The other had made its way to the front of his jeans, where it massaged the growing bulge. He didn’t want to be doing this. But He knew he was invading Renji’s privacy, even if Renji doesn’t know about it. He just couldn’t seem to stop himself for masturbate. He’d spend weekend afternoons sitting in the living room, watching Renji standing there, stripped to his boxers mostly drunk from coming back from Rangiku drinking party. They’d talk and laugh like everything was fine, but Ichigo wasn’t just making jokes, he was memorizing Renji tattoos, that mostly covering his face and upper body; he was fantasizing.
And now he was eavesdropping. He popped open the button on his fly and pulled down the zipper, reaching into his boxers and wrapping his hand around his now fully-erect cock. The mystery woman’s coy giggle wafted through the walls. “Shut up,” Ichigo whispered harshly, trying to block her out. He listened for Renji, for some moan of pleasure that he could imagine was his doing. He didn’t have to wait for long. A deep, hungry moan made its way through the wall as Ichigo slid his hand up his member, squeezing just a little as he approached the head. He turned around, leaning his back against the wall, feeling the dull thuds against this back, his ass. He reached into the bathroom drawer and pulled out a bottle of lotion. Squirting some into his hand, he returned to stroking himself, trying to match the rhythm that was pounding against his spine.
Whoever that mysteries girl was, she wasn’t shutting up. Ichigo closed his eyes, forcing his ears to ignore her and search for Renji. He found the deep, ragged breathing he was looking for and focused on it, imagining it brushing his neck. The wall started to shake more quickly, and he increased his own speed to match it. Renji wasn’t just breathing now, he was grunting, and moaning. Ichigo luxuriated in the sound. He slipped his hand back down to his base and teased his balls a little, letting his fingers drag over them as he slid the cook of his thumb back to his length. He could hear Renji getting louder, and faster. He lost track of the rhythm and just began to stroke wildly, feeling the bump of each new finger slipping over the oh so sensitive spot where his shaft met the head. His free hand reached out towards the toilet paper and ripped of a few sheets as his hips trust forward. He forced them back against the wall, wanting to savor every vibration. Ichigo felt the pleasure building inside of him but forced it back, not wanting to cum before Renji. He bit his lip, trying to swallow his orgasm, but happily gave up the effort when the rhythm broke and a thick, satiated grunt came through the wall. He barely managed to muffle its equal as he shot into the wad of toilet paper, letting the passion course through him, shaking his whole body and almost knocking his legs out for under him.
He stayed there, leaning against the wall for a minute, trying to even out his breathe and slow his heart. Tossing the used toilet paper into the toilet, he flushed it away and began to vigorously wash his hands, trying to get the smell of lotion off from his hands. Looking the mirror to verify that he was presentable, or at least didn’t look like had just jerked off from the sound of his roommate’s activities, he opened the door and checked to see if anyone was in the hallway. He may not look like he’d just been masturbating, but he was still in no mood to make small talk.
He hurried down to his own room and closed the door behind him, dropping himself on his bed and covering his eyes with the crook of his elbow. His mind was reeling as he couldn’t remember when it had all started. He had known Renji for years now, but couldn’t put his finger on the exact moment (or even the approximate month) when that friendship had turned into desire. There was just something about him; his somewhat mocha skin was beautiful, and the tattoos that covered his upper body and face only added to it. His long red hair, intense eyes, perfect lips; Ichigo had to admit, if he was going to get a crush on a guy, he’d chosen a good one.
A knock at his door stirred him from his thoughts. Without waiting for a response, Renji opened the door and stuck his head in.
“Hey, we were going to order something. You want?”
“Nah,” replied Ichigo, keeping his eyes covered. “I’m good.”
“’Kay.” Renji closed the door and padded back down the hall. Ichigo rolled over, tucking himself into the corner of his bed and trying to sleep. Images of Renji kept rolling through his head, and more comforting than sheep, carried him off.
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