Bleach, Ichigo/Uryu, callused hands
They didn't know where they were, only that it was dark and cold and there were hard walls everywhere, blocking every turn, a maze of concrete and tile. They went as long as they could, but no one can go forever, and when they sank to the ground back to back it was in exhaustion.
They didn't mean to fall asleep, but after wandering for hours, keeping their eyes open was more difficult than anything in the world. In their sleep they shivered, and huddled together until finally one woke up to find the other curled around him.
Ichigo stared at the strange arm holding him close. He didn't know whose hand it was. He didn't know anyone with calloses like that, on the finger tips and in a stripe across the palm. That white sleeve, now that was familiar; that was Uryu-san's. But the hand? Uryu had girly hands, kept soft for sewing and crafts, hands that did not seem to know hard work. These hands had scars. These had seen battles.
There was breath on his neck, soft and warm, and something metal was digging into the tender skin there. Metal, not sharp, but round. Round. Like glasses. But it couldn't be Uryu's glasses, because these were not Uryu's hands. Neither was that Uryu's leg over his, nor his black hair drifting into Ichigo's face. No, no, it couldn't be...
"Are you awake?" Uryu whispered in his ear.
"Y-yes," Ichigo finally whispered back.
"Just checking, shinigami."
"Whatever."
Uryu's voice seemed to hesitate. "You dreamed about Rukia-san."
"What of it?"
"Just- nothing. Just wondering if you knew." A little shiver went down his spine.
"Are you cold?" Ichigo asked. "Here, I'm kindof hot. Turn over, switch places with me."
Uryu froze for a moment, then did as he was told. A moment later Ichigo's front was pressed against his back, one arm wrapped around his stomach and another under his head. Ichigo sighed in relief as his back hit the cool air, and Uryu repressed another shiver at the sound.
"Better?" Ichigo asked, leaning his forehead against Uryu's head in the most comfortable position he could find.
"Yeah." Uryu stared at the hand covering his. "Um, thanks."
"No problem." Ichigo stroked a finger over Uryu's delicate hand, with its long, slim fingers, so different from his own wide hand, and again those funny calluses. "Hey, where did you get calluses from?"
"My bow, of course." Uryu hoped his voice sounded normal. "They're a little...different from yours because I only use certain parts of my hand for it. Yours are all over from gripping a hilt, but my weapon is more, ah, delicate."
"Oh, yeah," Ichigo replied. Of course. Why hadn't he realized it? "Don't they interphere with your crafts?"
His finger ran over them again and this time Uryu couldn't stop the shiver, and the way his body pressed agianst Ichigo's. In return, Ichigo pulled him in closer and rested his face against Uryu's neck. Uryu's chest hurt from keeping his breath even, and waves of heat were pouring down his body.
"Um, Ichigo, could you not do that?" 'Please don't ask me why,' was the added prayer.
Ichigo stared at the pale neck in front of him.
"What if I said no?"
Uryu froze, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. "No?"
"No."
"Then...then...I would be fine with that."
Ichigo opened his mouth and breathed in deeply, then rested his lips against Uryu's neck.
"Good," he whispered, "because I like it right here."
Uryu, as if in a dream, shifted his fingers so that they were intertwined with Ichigo's.
"I like your calluses," Uryu whispered.
A tiny, shaky kiss landed on Uryu's neck as Ichigo let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and closed his eyes.