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Title: Icing On The Cake.
Pairing: Renji/Ichigo (Ichigo POV).
Rating: NC-17.
For: The lovely [ profile] cmc42's birthday, of course!

Prompt: Foodplay - "This has ta be one of the weirdest ideas you've had." (OH YES.)
Word Count: 4,050!
Beta: [ profile] pb_cookie oh my the love is flowing :D and [ profile] goldensprite ffff-

Summary: "Didn't know you liked chocolate," Renji eventually said, his mouth forming a smirk, because he knew it wasn't just the chocolate, and… and we're in a kitchen.

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CLAIRE-SAN~ I bring you a slice of porn, some cake, and many LJ hearts! (Here's hoping you lost your shit when you saw the prompt. I worked hard, too! :D)

It started with a suggestion, Ichigo was sure of it. There was no way he would have followed this through without Renji suggesting something. And oh, it was Renji's fault, it always fucking was.

It had been Renji's fault when Ichigo kissed him that first time, when they first had sex, when Ichigo was tied up for the first time ("Like a gift only for me," Renji had said, giving Ichigo's inner thigh a gentle bite and making him writhe), and it had definitely been Renji's fault when Ichigo was blindfolded for the first time.

This was a new one, though. Making a cake together. Who'd have thought?

Ichigo was still skeptical even as Renji deposited him on the large dinner table and kissed him, hard. Some pans and pots fell to the floor, but the ruckus didn't clear Ichigo's head; it just distracted him long enough for Renji to duck his head and run his tongue over Ichigo's neck, grazing the skin with his teeth.

Ichigo tried pushing him back (they had stuff to do, and even though he couldn't remember what stuff or what they were even doing out of the bedroom, he was still stubborn), but Renji gave as good as he got, until Ichigo had a nasty hickey on the crook of his neck and Renji was shirtless.

Well, I put up enough of a fight, right? He sneaked a finger into the waistband of Renji's sweatpants and tugged the man forward, chuckling when he realized Renji wasn't wearing any underwear. Lazy.

"Not fair," Renji muttered, nudging him. He didn't object when Ichigo pulled the sweatpants down and ran his hands over Renji's sides, though. Ichigo definitely stopped chuckling when he saw Renji was already hard. That was always a nice sight.

His gaze flickered on its own from the tattoos on Renji's thighs to the ones over his hips, to his ribs, his abs. Even after tracing them for the millionth time he was far from bored, and Renji was still wonderfully sensitive.

He ran his fingers over Renji's chest, until Renji shuddered against him and dug his nails a little deeper into Ichigo's shoulder. Suddenly, Renji's head shot up and he growled, displeased with something–oh, of course. I'm still clothed.

Renji gave a toothy grin that had once scared Ichigo shitless, and reached towards him. Ichigo cursed when he couldn't see anything because his shirt got in the way. Next were his pants, and, fast enough, Renji's fingers were around his cock. The cool air suddenly hitting Ichigo's bare thighs reminded him the window was open. The window in the kitchen of Renji's apartment. The kitchen they were trying to bake something in (for someone's birthday, he guessed).

Ichigo stopped caring around the time Renji squeezed his cock and started running his thumb under the head. He wrapped his legs around Renji's waist and his arm around Renji's shoulder, pressing him closer.

He was breathing hard into Renji's ear when the hand around his cock tightened and moved faster, too fast. This is gonna be a short one. Might as well. Ichigo placed his free hand under him for balance and used it to push into Renji's fist. Considering how unstable he usually felt when Renji caught him by surprise (or really, whenever Renji was all over him), what really supported him right then was Renji's hand on his ass, helping him along. He moaned before he knew it, shutting his eyes and inhaling the scent of Renji's hair, sucking his neck slowly. Fuck, it felt good.

He nearly screamed when Renji's hand abruptly left his cock. He growled instead, clinging to Renji's shoulders, as though keeping him close would make him go on. When that didn't work, he bit Renji's neck.

"Why the fuck did you stop?" he asked, trying to sound menacing. Even to his own ears his voice was weak, needy. Shit.

"I wanna try something." Renji turned around when he said that, and Ichigo cursed again, shutting his eyes and focusing on breathing.

"Well, can I come first?" he asked, letting go of Renji's shoulder so he could lean back on both his hands. Much easier to focus without sharing body heat with Abarai fucking Renji.

It was around then that sitting naked on a table should have set off some kind of alarm bells in his head, but it wasn't the first time they did this. After all, the first thing they'd done when Renji had gotten the place was christen most rooms in it. Considering Soul Society was paying for it, there weren't many rooms. The kitchen had probably been their third target. Shit, he sucked me off right on this chair.

The memories of that made him bite his lower lip, and he reopened his eyes. Renji looked back at him, almost smug. There was something about his smile that seemed… devious. Ichigo knew he was plotting something, but at that moment he just hoped it was something that would get him off. Most of the time it was. Not that he was codependent, obviously. He didn't practically live in this place now, and he certainly could have jerked himself off.

He shook himself, ignoring those thoughts. Renji was unperturbed, still watching him, plotting. Ichigo didn't get a chance to ask before Renji's lips covered his own and one big hand grabbed his hips, pulling him closer to Renji's warm body.

Ichigo hummed his approval and nipped Renji's lips for making him wait. When he licked the puffed area, though, he could swear it tasted… sweeter. Intrigued, he pushed his tongue into Renji's mouth.

Oh, god. Chocolate. He groaned when the sweet taste fully struck him, immediately craving more. He ran his tongue over all the familiar spots, practically licking Renji's tongue clean. Not too sweet, not too pure, and there was something Renji himself added to the mix. Fuck, it was the best.

"My favorite," he uttered when he finished all the chocolate in Renji's mouth, and pulled away to lick his lips, nice and slow. Renji just stared, breathing heavily. His eyes seemed a little hazy. Now we're even.

"Didn't know you liked chocolate," Renji eventually said, his mouth forming a smirk, because he knew it wasn't just the chocolate, and… and we're in a kitchen.

Ichigo grinned right back, tilting his head in what he hoped Renji would take as an invitation. He couldn't really allow himself to do much more, as the idea was a little too perverse, but he guessed there was nothing he could do if Renji did the instigation part. "This has to be one of the weirdest ideas you've had."

Renji chuckled, leaning down. Ichigo was still sitting on the edge of the table so he could move his legs if he wanted to, but only when Renji's tongue traced his ear did he actually worry about falling off.

"And if I give you more?"

The way Renji said that last word made Ichigo's breath catch. He stifled a small sound and tried his hardest to play it cool. "More what, exactly?"

He knew Renji was smirking again—he could feel sharp teeth over his earlobe. "Hmm, I don't want anymore chocolate. In the living world there isn't any of the sweet stuff I like. Well, you know…" He ran his tongue in a slow stripe over Ichigo's neck, making him gasp. "Other than you."

"Fuck," was pretty much all Ichigo managed saying. He put his hand on the back of Renji's head and pulled him closer still, until he felt teeth against his neck and shuddered.

"Wanna know what I'm gonna do?" Renji asked, his voice still teasing, his breath still there.

Hell yeah. Ichigo nodded, burying his fingers in Renji's long hair and twisting gently. Force of habit, really.

"First, I'm gonna find more tasty things here, but I'll have to cover your eyes so you don't see what I pick. I love surprising you, Ichigo." He grazed Ichigo's ear, letting out a low, throaty sound, like Ichigo needed to get more turned on. "I love watching you squirm."

Ichigo inhaled sharply, his body moving involuntarily towards Renji until their chests pressed together and he couldn't breathe. It's more than that. He loves the power, I love… losing it. "And then?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too eager.

"Then, I'm gonna lick you up. Paint your hot body with more sweetness; I won't be able to help myself. I'll eat you up until you're begging me to finally fuck you. How does that sound?"

It should have been a simple outline of what Renji had planned; it shouldn't have made Ichigo yank Renji's hair and lie down on the table, trying to pull Renji with him. The redhead only smirked, slipping away. "Thought you'd like that. Will you survive if I leave you here for a few seconds?"

Ichigo wanted to say no, but all he managed was a weak grunt and he leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. He heard Renji leave, probably to get a bandana from somewhere. Ichigo couldn't really think about anything other than what Renji had just whispered in his ear. Fuck, this always happened.

Definitely Renji's damn fault. He tried to distract himself—fuck, he couldn't believe Renji was just going to make him wait. A thought came to him, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm just glad we showered earlier, if we're gonna do that."

Finally, a sound. Renji laughed from somewhere, getting closer. Only when he actually felt Renji did he let himself breathe easy.

"Yeah, thanks to you," Renji said, hovering above him. Ichigo never noticed how the height of the table compared to Renji's (or rather, his hips) gave them… at least three options. "You woke me up just to get me dirty."

Ichigo smirked, and Renji gave him a final kiss before covering his eyes with the bandana. His lips were still against Ichigo's, but the loss of his sight triggered an immediate reaction.

The disorientation and panic that always accompanied the darkness dissolved quicker each time they did this, but the effects remained powerful. For one, noticing things more sharply. The soft sounds Renji made when he sucked on Ichigo's tongue, the hair fluttering on Ichigo's chest and collarbones, quick breaths hitting his skin, Renji's strong scent, the faint traces of chocolate on his lips. The hands holding his wrists tightly and guiding his arms upwards.

Thanks, he thought as Renji helped him close his fingers around the edge of the table, so at least he would get some sense of where he was situated once Renji moved away. When he'll get to work.

"Are you okay?" Renji asked, sounding a lot closer all of a sudden, his voice a little deeper. Ichigo's breath hitched, which he hoped Renji couldn't hear. The uncertainty would fade, he knew that. He just needed to stop panting.

Seconds passed and Ichigo got more comfortable, partly thanks to Renji leaving his wrists and running his fingertips over Ichigo's forearms, trailing to the inside of his elbow, up his arms, to his bicep. Ichigo had spent so much time on Renji's tattoos there that he nearly forgot his own skin was sensitive, especially when he was deprived of one of his senses.

More. "I'm good," he finally said.

Renji kissed the side of his mouth, almost reassuringly, before opening his lips and nipping on Ichigo's chin. Some noises to his left alerted him, which he guessed Renji could see, because a second later Renji was running his tongue from Ichigo's jaw to his neck to distract him. Clever bastard.

He gasped when something cool touched his skin, right under his neck, and felt Renji smile at his reaction. He couldn't quite pinpoint the texture of what was being smeared on him before Renji moved to collect it, dragging only the tip of his tongue over Ichigo's skin. Fucking tease.

Ichigo gasped again and jerked when Renji pressed his lips to the spot and sucked on it. When he was satisfied (whether because the skin was clean or because Ichigo started sputtering curses, he didn't know), Renji drew back, until all Ichigo could sense was breaths touching his skin.

"Fuck, that felt good," Ichigo breathed, hopeful that it would spur Renji on. It really fucking did.

Another noise to his left and Ichigo felt Renji's finger lower this time, leaving his collarbone in favor of his chest. He could guess better this time… Slightly sticky, maybe foamy—he was distracted again by Renji's tongue. Fuck, it must have been sickly sweet for Renji to devour it that fast. He knew it was finished long before Renji's tongue had actually left him, long licks and heavy breaths, making Ichigo's muscles quiver and his palms hurt from holding the table too tightly.

He was glad Renji held his legs apart, otherwise he would have crushed something when Renji stroked his nipple with the substance, then sucked on it, hard. Teeth hadn't been in this game until now—damn, Ichigo hoped he could handle it. He cursed again, pushing his hips up involuntarily and groaning when their bodies pressed together, when his cock touched Renji's skin.

Renji hissed, indulging him for a few more moments before backing up and laying a hand on Ichigo's chest, pushing him down again.

"I'll only go slower," he warned, which made Ichigo promptly bite his lip and try to relax. That didn't work. Renji was already going too slow, switching from licking to kissing to biting unexpectedly, intent on doing it to every part of Ichigo's body. His skin felt like it was on fire wherever Renji touched, licked, nipped—it was too much attention, it was overwhelming.

Renji moved lower, to Ichigo's ribcage, and Ichigo could hardly breathe when soft hair just-barely brushed over his cock. Must be crouching over me now.

When Renji spread the stuff on his sensitized skin, Ichigo really did hold his breath, waiting for the sensual, eager licks. A predictable order. Ichigo liked that he could tell what was going on even though he couldn't see. Maybe it muddled the blindfold's desired effect, but Ichigo knew he couldn't handle more surprises.

Another stroke of Renji's finger, another swipe of his tongue, Ichigo could only moan and clutch the table's edge harder. "What is that?"

He kept his ears open for an answer, mostly because by then he could barely hear a thing besides his own raging heartbeat and strangled moaning. He was caught completely off guard by two fingers on his lips, halting for a second before pushing into his mouth.

It was rather embarrassing that his instinct was to wrap his tongue around Renji's fingers, but he forgot about that when the flavor hit him. Foamy, sugary, melting on his tongue—whipped cream. Fuck.

A series of shudders assaulted his body when Renji resumed licking his abdomen clean while pushing his fingers deeper. Ichigo didn't know whether it was the delicious taste or Renji's tongue that set him off, but he lapped up the whipped cream fast, sucking on the fingers lightly.

Okay, maybe it was a good weird idea. If anyone had told him he'd spend his day getting whipped cream licked off his stomach by Renji, whose fingers were in his mouth, he… well, after hanging around Renji for so long, he would have probably bought it.

Didn't make him squirm any less, or stop him from making embarrassing little whimpers when Renji thrust his fingers in. Fuck, Ichigo hoped he intended on fucking him soon.

Renji gave a rumbling groan, and Ichigo noticed with some satisfaction that the pace was getting faster. The smears were more careless, the tonguing quicker, lower on his already erratic body. Heaving. Ichigo nearly lost it when something brushed against his cock (Renji's cheek was his best guess). Despite every intention of staying calm, he couldn't help but move his hips closer to Renji, hoping... He needed it.

Renji cursed and tore his fingers away from Ichigo's mouth. Ichigo heard something to his right this time, and then a lengthy moan either of them could have made when a slicked finger slipped inside him. He nearly fucking collapsed at the unexpected jolt, and then the heavy, familiar wave it caused. Finally.

He rocked his hips against Renji's finger, wriggled, tried getting him deeper. He had to bite his lip when Renji's breaths became closer. He must have been staring. "Don't fucking stop now," Ichigo muttered, and Renji bit his hip and chuckled.

Ichigo bucked when he felt fingers near the crease of his thigh, and then Renji's tongue lapping it all up. It was almost too much, Renji's fingers moving inside him, a tongue brushing his balls, something against his cock.

When the tongue left him Renji made a pleased sound, and a thought suddenly struck Ichigo. "Renji, tell me—"

"Don't worry, it's lube," Renji reassured him with a hard push of his fingers, making him arch. He was held down again, and felt fingers on his thighs, the whipped cream getting closer and closer (it was almost liquid by then), but Renji's tongue never followed. Ichigo twisted, on edge.

The teasing had to end, it fucking had to, but Renji just stayed where he was and made the same sounds he made when he did lick the whipped cream, blowing hot air on Ichigo's dripping cock, so fucking close…

That talented tongue only fluttered on his skin when Renji spoke. "Get up."

"No, Renji, don't—" It hurt, he had to come, he had to have Renji's mouth on his cock, he… he could just see Renji standing there, between his legs, smirking and licking his lips like Ichigo was some kind of treat. And in Ichigo's mind there was whipped cream on Renji's lower lip, white and thick, slowly dribbling down his chin and he licked that too—shit, all it would take was one—

"I said, get up."

Ichigo nearly jumped out of his skin when Renji's fingers curled and brushed over that spot. It wasn't even close to hard, Ichigo might as well have imagined it, but even just that made him call out and writhe. There's incentive to turn around.

Renji must have sensed Ichigo had made up his mind, because he let go of his legs just as Ichigo leaned up. Still can't see a thing, idiot.

He would have done it himself eventually, but Renji's helpful hands were on his hips quickly enough, helping to turn him around until Ichigo was kneeling on the hard surface. Didn't fall off. The table was steady enough; it was Ichigo that tried to keep himself together. Need something to hold.

He stretched his torso forward until he felt the edge of the table under his fingers again, and grabbed it. He didn't even care how he looked anymore, if it meant he could feel Renji on him again.

Two deep breaths. He spread his legs a little, to let Renji know he was ready. Fuck, he was beyond ready. He lowered his head slightly until his forehead pressed against a cool surface; not that it really helped him to think clearly. Another idea came to him, and he curved his back slightly. Then his chest was pressed to the table too—fuck, the only raised thing was his ass.

Renji cursed, loudly. They might have been drunk off their asses when Renji maneuvered him into that position the first time, but Ichigo remembered it was a sure-fire way to get Renji going.

When hurried fingers spread him open and thrust in again (sloppy, Ichigo knew Renji was as far gone as he was, thank god), he knew he’d gotten what he wanted. This time Renji went straight there, stroking and pushing and… Ichigo was holding the edge of the table tight so he wouldn't squirm off it altogether.

"Renji…" he managed uttering through the shudders, fucking overwhelmed already. "Renji, fuck me already—fuck…" He bucked when Renji's fingers pressed harder, causing waves of pleasure to take over him. No, he couldn't come just like that, he had to—he suddenly remembered the other part of what Renji had said when he'd laid out his plan a forever ago. "Please…"

They were both done for after that moment. A curse later Renji's dirty hands were on Ichigo's hips, pulling him back and up, spreading him open—and then the slicked head of Renji's cock began easing into him. One slow and fucking controlled thrust, Ichigo felt like his whole body was being pushed forward. His head was spinning; he couldn't breathe until Renji was finally all the way in, so deep he thought he would burst.

Renji didn't ask him if he was ready, didn't lean down to touch him; he only pulled out and thrust back in, this time quick, and hard, and fuck, it felt amazing after all that. He moaned again when Renji pulled out and then snapped his hips forward, and again, each sensation heightened, Ichigo was so close. He should have warned Renji but no words came out when he tried, only breathy gasps and sighs.

He swallowed and felt his body shake, rolling back instinctively. He knew he didn't have to move, Renji always handled him best, after all, but he still rocked back against Renji's body, until they were moving together, trying to—

Ichigo saw only white for a second, and then lost all control of his mouth, his hips, his limbs. They were shaking again—he was shaking, fucking delirious. He couldn't feel anything but raw, heady pleasure racing through him in bursts, and the spasms that took over him as he came, hard.

He had no idea how much time had passed before it was finally over. His mind was hazy, and a small whimper escaped his lips when he felt Renji still going, fucking him fast. Ichigo's back curled again. He was well over-stimulated by then, but still he took Renji in and remembered to keep moving with him, to push Renji over the edge too.

Renji gave a long groan, primal and deep and sexy, and finally came, thrusting into Ichigo a few more times and filling him up, making him moan. Wow.

He wasn't jerking anymore, merely panting and trying to let go of the table. His fingers were numb. Everything was numb.

He let out a sigh of relief when the bandana was removed from his eyes. The light blinded him at first, but once he got used to it things felt more… normal. Other than the fact he'd just been blindfolded and fucked kneeling on a dinner table. Routine, really.

Renji kissed him between his shoulder blades before pulling out slowly. He still kept him steady, running a careful hand up Ichigo's back before catching his hand. Ichigo could have gotten off the table himself if his muscles hadn't been jelly right then, which was entirely Renji's fault anyway, so he let Renji help him down.

Finally, he was back on his feet. Okay. Good. Now breathe. He was still a little shaky when he looked up, and chuckled when Renji handed him a towel. He took it, grateful.

"We'll have to sterilize that table, you know," he commented, wiping himself clean as fast as he could manage. It'll have to do until I take another shower.

Renji snorted, picking up his sweatpants and throwing Ichigo his own. "Yeah, we do."

Shit. Ichigo looked away, occupying himself with putting his pants on. He took a look around the kitchen—fuck, it's a mess. Two empty containers to his left, lube to his right, pans and pots on the floor, not to mention the dirtied table. Maybe we should just get a new one. He, fuck.

"We have some unfinished business before we do, though," Renji added, edging towards Ichigo with a smirk on his lips. Like hell.

Ichigo arched an eyebrow, getting ready to pounce. "No fucking way I'm—"

"The cake."

Ichigo's eyes widened. "Oh. Right."



About an hour later, Renji made another suggestion. Like always, Ichigo said yes.


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