Come to Bed, Kisuke
Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach. I doubt whether anyone could own Yoruichi.
Warnings: This one-shot was written per request of a little pervert friend of mine and is simply an excuse for smut involving the hottest anime chick of all time.
A/N: This fic was inspired by a panel at the beginning of chapter 185 that shows Yoruichi, hair all tousled, calling after Urahara, who is standing outside the shop door, in the middle of the night. So, she’s not in her cat form when she’s alone with him, eh? ~.^
"Fu-fu, your reaction is just what I expected!"--Yoruichi, Bleach manga chapter 130:8
Kisuke had not returned to bed.
The streetlamp over the Urahara shop sign had been flickering. The night clouds had been full of rain. Yoruichi imagined that Kisuke was still standing as she had left him--eyes narrowed, long fingers resting on the brim of his beach hat, all senses intent on reading spirit movement.
Yoruichi kicked the covers off the mattress and let out a low growl.
The battle she and Kisuke had sensed earlier had long ago waned. Yoruichi could feel that the giant Hollow was gone, disintegrated into pieces of purgatory, bleached out of existence in this plane.
So why was Kisuke still out there?
Tomorrow Tessai would complain about the manager sleeping past noon. The pervert would give Yoruichi a look as if to say he knew why the manager was always so sleepy.
Kisuke, come back! If you’re going to be awake all night, it may as well be with me!
Yoruichi rolled her body onto his bed space, deliberately splaying her limbs everywhere and shoving his pillow to the floor.
After spending more time as a cat than as herself for the past one hundred years, Yoruichi’s body felt large and inept. She was out of practice in her true form--as a fighter and as a lover. And she was in the mood to exercise the latter role….
Damn it, she felt itchy! She yanked off her white shirt and tossed it in a ball across the room. Clothes were such a nuisance. A shame she couldn’t just walk around naked all the time without people falling dead in the streets from desire.
Yoruichi fell back on the bed and threw her arms and legs as far apart as they would go.
There was something wonderful about furlessness. Your whole body--not just the pads of your feet--sweated, and nakedness on a hot night felt deliciously sensual. Why people wore clothes at all, even at night, was beyond her. When Kisuke had sensed the Hollow, she had thrown on that stupid shirt to follow him outside, and he had chided her for forgetting to put on pants: "My, my, my, Shihouin-san, are you going to kill Hollows bare-legged?"
She grimaced at the ceiling.
Kisuke, I’m WAITING!
She could finish herself what Kisuke had started earlier, but the source of her irritation wasn’t mere sexual frustration. What bothered Yoruichi was that, although for one hundred years she had come and gone as she pleased, she was here now, and didn’t the fool in the green striped hat appreciate that?
He was always mocking her impatience, and so why on EARTH was he outside maintaining a vigil for Hollows? Didn’t Kisuke always say to have faith that Ichigo would do the right thing?
Yoruichi let out a long warm breath, felt it whistle through her teeth. She knew that her anxiety was her own.
If there was anything her renegade Shinigami knew how to do properly, it was to take it easy.
Yoruichi had to smile. The tension in her face melted as she remembered the philosophy Kisuke Urahara had espoused since his youth:
Follow the stream, it will take you.
Kisuke Urahara was a Slacker God. Yoruichi, who was so jumpy and restless, still had so much to learn from the Master of Repose. He was a warrior with the most effortless, fluid moves … and the world’s most luxurious lover.
She could hear his lilting voice now, whispering wisdom into her ear:
Follow the stream, have faith in its course. It will go its own way, meandering here, trickling there. It will find the grooves, the cracks, the crevices. Just follow it. It will take you.
Ah well. Her body was telling her to satisfy itself. No use waiting for the Master.
Yoruichi cupped her tawny breasts in her hands and looked at them. Niiiiice. She loved being in human form--her nipples were so sensitive. They were standing up, purple-brown and demanding attention.
And another wonderful thing about this form was that the human tongue was so soft. Yoruichi lowered her head, squished her breasts forward, and licked her dark nipples. Mmmmmm.
Yes, furlessness was fantastic. Her flesh tasted salty. Yoruichi licked the nipples, lapped the entire top hemispheres of the brown globes in her hands, tongued her shoulder. She rubbed her shoulder against her jaw for a minute and purred. Then she resumed the licking of her nipples.
Only after her mouth felt saturated with the salty taste did she start to suck. Her sucking was slow and deliberate. The porous nipple flesh had no distinct flavor but tugging at one small hard nub sent waves of pleasure across her body.
She lifted one long brown leg into the air as if saluting her own ingenuity.
It was tongue-time.
She knew that her flexibility was slightly less than what she commanded in cat form, but her unnaturally long torso and legs allowed her to stretch her hips to meet her face.
She could just reach the tip of her clit with her tongue.
How better it would be to have Kisuke’s mouth exploring her folds, but Yoruichi could make do.
Follow the stream, it will take you.
She pressed hard on the clit with her outstretched tongue. She could not inhale the skin into her mouth to fondle or chew, but she could move her tongue very fast over the delicate area. She started with tiny circles, and as her breath quickened, she enjoyed the feeling of her own breath huffing against her moist vulva.
She was pouring fragrant juices.
Yoruichi was fond of her own spicy smell, and her nostrils were flaring as she worked her tongue. Faster, faster. She was aching for more sensation, so she pushed her fingers into her opening and thought of Kisuke.
Oh, the sounds he made when he thrust against her. Yoruichi pressed the heel of her hand against her pelvic bone and felt an ache in her neck. She could not stand this position any longer.
She uncurled and fell against the bed, her knees bent and her hand still moving inside herself. She immediately missed the wet pressure of her own tongue and moved her other hand to take its place. One hand pushed on the inside; the other rubbed furiously on the outside.
"Kisuke." Her voice was a snarl. "Damn you, Kisuke."
She had no patience. Her fighting style was all about speed and hitting the target. She was going for the orgasm here. The more indulgent pleasures could wait for Kisuke’s lead.
She groaned low and came hard. She raised her head a bit off the mattress as she shuddered, and purple hairs fell across her eyes.
Panting, she pushed the hairs out of her face with her hand, and that’s when she saw him.
Urahara Kisuke was standing at the threshold of the bedroom with a slight smile under the shadow of his beach hat.
"Bastard," she whispered, still breathing very hard. "How long have you been there?"
"Not long, not long," came the singsong reply. "I went out. Very busy night. Isshin took his vengeance on Grand Fisher--"
Yoruichi sat up. "Another Hollow? It’s gone?" Her chest was heaving and her voice was raspy. "Isshin?"
"That’s not all. The Vizored are getting in touch with Kurosaki. Many things have been brewing while you were sweating in the bed, Yoru." The smile widened. "You see why it’s important not to be screwing while listening for spirit power?"
The sight of him smiling like that made Yoruichi purr. She sat up completely, crossing her legs and expecting to be caught up on the events of the evening, but Kisuke had other plans. He took off his hat and tossed it to a corner of the room. He stepped out of his sandals and began to untie his obi.
Yoruichi tossed her head back and laughed. "Isn’t the world about to come to an end, Kisuke?"
His body was suddenly covering hers. "Oh, not for a good many days yet, my friend," he whispered into her ear. "Not for a good many days."
As his soft blonde hair swept down her neck, Yoruichi arched her back.
Oh, let Tessai knock and knock on the manager’s door tomorrow. Yoruichi was not going to be letting Kisuke out.
A/N: Urahara’s philosophy of the stream is from Ch’en, Master Sheng-yen.
Thanks to LisaB once again, for being the best editor I’ve ever had.