Keena: Ichigo stretched out on my couch, wincing at the stiffness in his back. I ached in sympathy, knowing that it came from pouring over some book for an excessive amount of time–usually textbooks caused that kind of pain in my back. My hands itched to knead and sooth his aching muscles until he was comfortable once more, but through some act of god, I managed to keep my hands to myself. My chosen method of distracting myself was to brew some tea for us, but that distraction ended when I set the tea down on the coffee table –one cup in front of him, and the other in front of me. Trying not to sigh heavily and have my frustration mistaken for something else, I took up a comfortable position in the armchair to his right. My laptop lay on the coffee table, so I reached for it. Fumbling with the power button, I woke it from hibernation mode and had to type in my password again. Smiling, I opened the Rhythm Box program and searched for the song I wanted before looking back over at my guest. Ichigo had sat up since I had sat down. He looked out over the rim of the black mug as he took a drink of his tea. I liked the surprised look on his face when he tasted it: I had brewed red tea instead of green and I managed to surprise him. Red tea had a slight floral scent and a sweeter taste than green tea, and I was also pleased to see that this substitution pleased him once he got over the initial shock. Renji had told me that Ichigo didn't fancy green tea as much as he let on that he did. I was glad that I had something that was pleasing to his tastes. I couldn't hold back my smile. I was honestly too pleased by this fact. In all honesty, I barely remembered why I had looked for this song on my computer. When I did remember, however, I wanted to blush, but I hoped my fickle complexion would choose not to show it. What business did I have introducing a man I liked to a song this… blatant and sexual on the first night he knew that I could be part of his dating pool? "This is the song, Ichigo," I told him, not bothering to warn him about the content because I knew I would blush and stutter. When I hit play, the heart-beat like rhythm filled the room before the lyrics began. I tried to focus on anything in the room I could direct my gaze to, anything but his face, because I knew that when it got to the chorus, I would be unable to prevent my blush. Instead, I stared at my computer and tried to appear totally unaffected by the lyrics, the sound of the song, his proximity, and the dizzying combination of all three. Either element, within itself, could have affected me. All three of them, all together and all at once, had me fighting to sit still. To avoid squirming, I rolled my shoulders back, concentrating on the motion and on the feel of the muscles and their movements until it became background noise in my mind. The sensual lyrics permeated the room like too much perfume. When the song came to a close, Ichigo sat there, slack-jawed. "I had no idea the lyrics were that graphic," he murmured. I wasn't sure what stunned him more: the lyrics, or the fact that I knew –and had a copy of– a song with lyrics like this one. Or, that I openly shared both with a heterosexual male while we were alone in my apartment. Sometimes, I wonder if the risks I take are brave or incredibly stupid. "Despite its graphic nature, this song would fit the role we need it to. It's got a great rhythm and it won't be hard to come up with a dance to fit the song's " —Blatant sexual language, I mused– "sensuality," I returned softly. "We'll need a lot of practice together, for us to learn the way out partner moves, the way the moves fit together, and the way to make it all look good." Something inside of my purred with happiness. I was going to love working closely with this sexy man. But the worrywart in me was getting the best of me. How smart was it to choose a partner to which I was extremely attracted? How did I keep myself from crossing the line between my professional life and my private life? You can't blame him, a voice in my head taunted. You're the one who asked him; he just accepted the offer. He nodded slowly, his mind at least still where it needed to be. "We need to be careful to not smother each other, but do we really have the chemistry we need? I mean, especially with a song like this, chemistry can be the difference between rocking it and falling flat on our faces." I loved his straight-forward nature. "Well, let's see if we have it, Ichi." I scanned quickly through the music on my playlist and selected something with an appropriate rhythm. Unfortunately, when I pressed play, I remembered that the lyrics were almost as lurid and sensual as "Closer". Oh well. Damn it, we'll have to dance to something like this anyway. If we can't get past it, we'll have to change our song, anyway. Ichigo smirked at me as the beat picked up. "'S&M'?" he questioned. I wanted to blush. "Shut up and dance, boy. This isn't about my tasteful selection of music," I practically growled, more than a little defensive on the matter. He laughed and stood, extending his hand to help me up. I refused his hand and stood on my own. Still a little mad, I shoved the sofa against the wall with a little more force than necessary. Next was the coffee table, which got shoved up next to the sofa, and the chairs, which got shoved to east and west walls. Silently, I thanked my father for convincing me to get the furniture-slider doo-dads. I'd rather not scratch the hardwood each time I did this. What this did was give us a relatively small dance floor in my living room. Now, it might have been a bit small, but there was certainly room to move. With that job complete and the lyrics already reaching out into the room with tantalizing fingers, I turned to look at Ichigo, stepping to him with the hip shimmy of a belly dancer. Moving ever closer, I grinned wickedly before rolling my body and stepping closer. His expression became less playful and darker, almost as though he could feel my want reflected through the music. When our bodies pressed together, I wanted to shiver. Instead, I pressed forward, forcing him to step back. Then I shimmied backward, twisting my arm out until I could beckon him to follow. The way he strode purposefully forward, his hands reaching for my body like having it pressed against him would bring him closer to nirvana, the darkening of his gaze –all of it made me want to melt into a puddle of need on my floor. Knowing that wasn't an option, I leaned forward before arching back, emphasizing the presence of my breasts and taunting him with the fact they weren't within his reach. He stepped forward, unafraid of using a hip shimmy to attempt to beckon me closer to him. My hands itched to slid down his sides, so I allowed him to catch me, working his hips all the while. I gave a satisfied smile when he was within my reach. Stepping forward, I pressed my body tightly against his. Laying my hands on his shoulders, I slid them downward slowly, caressing the warm hardness of his chest as far as I could and enjoying being pressed against the rest of it. His arms were quick to encircle me and keep me pressed against him. I took a small, tentative step back, curious to see if he would notice the shift and follow me. He did notice it, stepping forward to compensate our change in balance. I took that opportunity to move until his leg was inserted between mine. His answering smile had me wondering if he would take this opportunity to do something a little more risqué. I was already fighting back the needy, hungry part of me that wanted to take this opportunity to seduce him with my body. Still, I gripped his leg with mine, startling him a little. Unfortunately, I have to shove away the urge to ride his thigh, to use a change in leverage to wrap my legs about his waist. Instead, I used the tips of my toes to trace the back of his muscled calf. I heard his breathing catch at my ears, then I was lifted off my feet and spun twice. With no warning, he lifted me and placed me down gently on the couch before shifting the coffee table back toward the center of the room and sitting down beside me. "So. We have the chemistry we need," he remarked, sounding more breathless than winded. I couldn't help but grin, though there was more than one part of me hoping that I was getting to him in the self-same way he got to me. "Let's work on our song together tomorrow." "Why are you so certain Shunsuì will allow us to dance together?" I smirked. "Because, darling, I happen to know someone who has Shunsuì wrapped around their little finger," I told him. I kissed his slightly bristled cheek. "You have your three o'clock shadow, dear," I giggled. He smiled at that. "Well, it is about the time for that, isn't it?" I looked up at him, noting the dark shadows under his eyes. "You look really tired, Ichi. Maybe you should get go home and get some sleep." He winced. "Renji's home, though, so there's no way in hell I'm going to get any sleep. When Renji's home, Shuhei's there. I really did not want to know certain things about my best friend that I unfortunately now know." Good God, my brother was being an insensitive prick and robbing his roommate of sleep. I touched his hand. "I've got a spare bedroom. Go get some sleep." I pointed in the general direction of the room. "The medicine cabinet is fully stocked with a razor, a toothbrush, and toothpaste. You can stay here a while if you need to. I'm going to yell at my brother." His eyes widened. "Shit. Really? I mean, you two look similar but Renji never told me you two were related!" I smiled at him tiredly. "I assure you, it's a long and interesting tale and I'll tell you in the morning. Now, go get some sleep, Ichi." I still had to play Big-Bad Older Sister before I could get some sleep.