Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Bleach characters…or Coca-Cola.
The girls were out for the night (something about hair or nails) so Renji and Ichigo were home by themselves. Usually, Karin and Yuzu would stay home as well, but Orihime insisted they come with her and Rukia to the salon––Karin protesting fiercely and only giving in when told they would get her a new soccer ball––leaving the boys undeniably alone.
"Hey, Ichigo!" yelled Renji loudly, disrupting the quiet that had settled over the house.
The boy to whom he was talking, or rather shouting to, ignored the disturbance, and continued flipping the channels mindlessly, staring blankly at the television screen.
'Maybe if I ignore him, he'll shut up and go find something better to do,' thought Ichigo somewhat hopefully, still changing the channels without pausing. This small hope was shattered when another yell reached his ears.
'Grr…' He ignored him.
His eye gave an involuntary twitch. 'Breathe. You're okay. He's an idiot. You can deal with it.'
"OI! ICHIGO, YOU DUMBASS!"
His control snapped. "Argh!" he roared, "What?" He sat up from his previous laid-back position on the couch and looked toward the kitchen.
"I'm thirsty!" the red-head yelled out in explanation.
'Who's the idiot now?' he reflected scoffing. Ichigo rubbed his temples, grumbling. "In the kitchen and can't even get himself a drink." He stomped over to the kitchen muttering angrily about morons and pigheads.
Renji was sitting at the kitchen table, feet propped up on a chair, eyes closed. The orange-haired teen grabbed a plastic cup lying on the kitchen counter and chucked it at his annoying companion's head.
Renji opened his eyes, glaring at the person who had just walked in. "What was that for?" he asked irritably.
Ichigo stared right back challengingly. "For having your smelly feet up on my chair," he stated simply, "And for bothering me when you were already in the kitchen." Then, he turned around and opened the refrigerator door. He looked around inside it for a bit, shuffling the contents around, then settled on a can of Coke since there was an entire unopened box. He grabbed a can and threw it at Renji.
"Here," he said, "Drink that."
The red-head caught the drink and stared at it, puzzled. "Is it tea?" he asked quizzically.
Ichigo smirked, remembering Rukia's reaction to the sweet, fizzy drink.
"Nope. It's soda."
"Then get me some tea. I want some."
Ichigo glared daggers at the shinigami, eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm not gonna waste my time makin' you tea, moron. Drink that."
Renji continued to look at the can skeptically, for once, not making a snide or otherwise sarcastic remark. "What's it taste like?" he asked.
Ichigo muttered darkly. "Like soda. Now shut up and drink." Then, he walked out of the kitchen, and back into the living room, intent on finding something good to watch on TV.
In the kitchen, Renji looked at the can, still confused.
'How do you open it?'
He looked at it and saw there was a thin, oval-shaped metal part at the top. He pulled it to see if it would do anything. It hissed quietly and he held it away from himself in surprise.
'What the hell?'
He brought it back up to eye-level and looked at it more closely. He saw that on the opposite side of where he had pulled, a spot of brown liquid was slowly spilling out.
'It looks sort of like tea,' he mused.
After a while of turning the can in his hand and tugging warily at the metallic band at the top, he stopped and considered, briefly, asking Ichigo for help, but then decided against it. No way would he stoop that low.
"Stupid can," he griped crossly.
Following another round of fruitless poking and examination, he finally chose to pull the 'little metal thing' harder to see if that would do the trick. With a sharp cracking sound, it opened, revealing the brown-colored drink within.
'It does kinda look like tea,' he thought staring at the can.
He brought the opening up to his face and sniffed. The red-haired man choked and spluttered at the fizz, wrinkling his nose, then set the can down on the table hastily, bringing his hand up to his aggravated appendage and rubbing it in surprise.
"What the hell was that?" he exclaimed incredulously. "Soda, my ass. That's some dangerous stuff."
He shook his head then picked the can back up and held it, a little apprehensive. He then brought it up to his mouth to taste it. When the substance hit his tongue, it tingled and he realized how sweet it actually tasted, but when he swallowed, confident that he had finally overcome the hardest part, he felt an unexpected burning sensation in his throat.
"Gak!" he managed to cough out. After a few seconds that seemed to last an eternity to the shinigami, the discomfort subsided and Renji breathed a sigh of relief. This time, when he brought the drink up to his lips, he took only a small, dainty sip, careful not to cause himself harm, and now, when it went down, he finally got to taste the delicious experience that was "soda".
He smiled appreciatively, getting to enjoy his drink at last. He sat back, relaxed, and continued to drink, a lingering smile on his face.
Ichigo, long ago abandoning the hope that something good to watch would pop up on the TV screen, decided to lay back and sleep.
He shut the monitor off, catching a last glimpse of Don Kanonji and his Karakura heroes, wondering vaguely what Jinta was doing with a giant baseball bat, then drifted off to sleep, taking advantage of the unusually quiet household.
'At least Renji isn't making noise anymore,' he thought dazedly, before finally succumbing to the desire of sleep.
After a bit of time spent quietly sipping the drink, Renji realized that the soda had run out.
'I drank it all?' he asked himself skeptically, shaking the empty can a bit. "That was only like a couple sips."
He frowned at the empty can for a bit, wanting more. 'Hell,' he mused, 'Ichigo did give me the first one, and there was whole box in that thing anyway. Taking another one won't hurt.'
He stood and walked over to the fridge, and opened the door, grabbing another can of soda. Renji popped it open and took a quick gulp of the sweet-tasting liquid, licking his lips.
But, after a couple of moments spent, once again, enjoying the drink, the soda ran out for a second time.
Renji sighed disappointedly, then looked at the fridge and then at the empty can clutched in his hand, then back at the fridge.
'Maybe just one more,' he thought, and, smiling a little suspiciously, opened the fridge door.
After a few minutes, or it could have been hours (he wasn't really sure how long he'd been asleep––he was known to be a very sound sleeper), of pointless dozing filled with dreams of Chappy the bunny and Rukia's scowling face, he woke up to a still-silent house.
This was somewhat surprising. He had expected Renji to have caused a few disruptions by now. He should've thrown a few tantrums, and shouted a bit maybe, anything but sit patiently while Ichigo slept.
He sat up, stretched––the couch creaking as the weight that had pressed down on it all afternoon was removed––and smiled.
Then, he turned around. He stopped dead in his tracks, mouth dropping open, the smile wiped instantly from his face.
"What in the hell?!" he yelled, surprise written plainly on his face.
The house, as far as he could see, was a complete mess. It looked like a small hollow had decided to stampede through his home unchecked. Chairs were overturned, books lay open and scattered along the floor and leading down the hall, and pictures had fallen off the walls, frames lying broken on the carpet.
As he walk cautiously through the living room and into the hallway, he saw that pillows were lying on the floor as well, thrown from the bedrooms and piled in fluffy heaps. He continued on his way to his bedroom, where the door was ajar, and glancing down every few steps.
"Are those my boxers?" he exclaimed in astonishment.
He picked his way over the random objects resting in the hallway, asking himself what could have caused this chaos, and pushed open the door to his bedroom. The "what" the shinigami-representative was searching for became easily visible when he stepped into his room and looked down.
Renji, who was clad in an over-long T-shirt and a pair of striped blue boxers, was spread-eagled on the floor, groaning in obvious discomfort. He sat up slowly at the sound of the door opening, grabbing his head and wishing he room would stop spinning. He looked up at Ichigo, eyes slightly unfocused, a bruise starting to form on his forehead where he had probably collided with the door frame.
"What––" he started, then stopped, "Oww…"
He continued to stare up at the orange-haired teen, who standing in the doorway, a strangely blank expression on his face.
"What?" asked Renji quizzically, still a tad disoriented.
Ichigo crossed his arms and glared at the red-haired man on the floor.
"'What?' That's just what I was about to ask you."
"I dunno. Last time I checked, I was in the kitchen drinking soda. But then it ran out so I got another one, but that ran out too so I got another––one…and ––oh," he finished sluggishly.
Ichigo, who was still standing, leaned on the door frame and snorted.
"So, you did this?" He motioned to the destruction behind him.
Propping his arms up on his bent knees, Renji looked at his hands deep in thought.
"I'm…not sure. I was in the kitchen and––," he struggled to remember. "I drank soda––a lot actually––and I had this huge burst of energy. I felt like running and jumping and––" he looked at his sock-covered feet, a blush tinting his cheeks, "––singing. I felt like doing something, anything, and I guess I was a bit hyper."
Ichigo grunted noncommittally at this comment, a small grin barely noticeable on his face, surprised that the stubborn, tough-looking shinigami had really blushed.
"So then I ran out of the kitchen, and up and down the stairs a couple of times, but I got bored." He furrowed his brow, evidently thinking hard.
"Then I went into the bedrooms and jumped on beds and threw the pillows at wall and––stuff."
"Stuff?" the younger teen asked.
"Yeah," he responded, "Like walls, and targets and stuff."
Ichigo grinned in amusement, but kept quiet, wanting to hear the rest of the story.
"Then what?" he questioned when the man stayed silent.
A look of concentration crossed Renji's features. "I think I opened drawers."
'Ahh…' thought Ichigo to himself.
"That would explain the change in wardrobe."
"What?" replied Renji confused, then looked down at himself. His mouth formed a silent 'oh' in understanding, and a light blush colored his cheeks again.
Ichigo continued to grin like an idiot, still choosing not to comment on what had occurred.
At last, the silence was broken when Renji asked the question that had been on his mind since this ridiculous interrogation had started.
"What was that?"
He paused. Finally, Ichigo let a laugh escape him.
"That," he responded, tears of mirth in his eyes, and motioning towards the disorder behind him, "is what you'd call a sugar rush."
Hope you liked it. ;D