Some people are difficult to know. 

They repress themselves. They hide away the squishy bits that make them whole and human. They construct armor and choose to sleep in it. It’s not a comfortable life choice, but who’s going to tell the savior of the free world that he needs to chill.

Certainly not his current houseguest.

Renji has long suspected that Ichigo is soft puddle of squish, but he never expected to have proof like this.

It’s a social call that brought Renji back to the human world, and to Ichigo and Rukia’s home specifically. He’s stubbornly overstaying his welcome to see how long it’ll take them to physically kick him out on his ass.

It’s two in the morning. They should all be in bed.

But Renji’s gotta piss and his dumbass hosts are still awake.

Normally he wouldn’t mind interrupting, loudly and inappropriately describing the necessary and imminent bladder voiding, but something about the scene-

The pair are standing barefoot in their kitchen, smiling stupidly at each other and saying nothing at all.

Rukia gently takes Ichigo’s right hand in hers and twirls herself daintily on his finger. He laughs and starts to hum a tune familiar to them both. She joins in, giggling. Ichigo twirls her into his chest and lifts her off her feet, sweeping her grandly around the kitchen until she’s breathless with full blown laughter- snorting and gasping. Renji hasn’t heard her laugh like that since she was a kid.

Ichigo’s right hand, which had been holding Rukia’s left, abandons its position for more interesting territory. His arms cross under her butt, holding her above him. She plants her hands on his shoulders now and leans down to peck his lips sweetly. 

Ichigo smiles into the kiss, at home in this place, with this woman and within himself.

He hums the next verse.

“-a thousand years… I have died every day waiting for you. 

Darling don’t be afraid I have loved you…

 for a thousand years. 

I’ll love you for a thousand more...”

Ichigo lowers her onto the counter and fills his hands with her shoulders, her face. He holds his mouth against her hair, her cheek, her lips again. He breathes a melody that’s sweet and happy. Rukia’s laughter is a sweet accompaniment. 

This is intensely private.

Renji backs up into the guest room, hoping to remain unseen, leaving them to their late night… whatever this is…

Then he realizes that he still really needs to piss.