Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
This takes place about four to five years before Separation Anxiety. You don't have to read it to get this one but if you do, I'll feel really good about myself. The style switches from present to past tense. The shift is pretty noticeable.
Possibly triggering material includes: Alcoholism, Drug use, graphic gay sex, graphic vomit, and lots of angst.
The Art of Hitting Rock Bottom:
A look into the lives of Abarai Renji and Ishida Uryuu
Uryuu wakes to the burning sun and curses it back under the horizon as he shuts the blinds. He hates Renji's apartment. The single bedroom window faces east which doesn't make for a pleasant morning for someone coming off a hangover. Looking down at the tracks in his arms, he reminds himself that this is more than a hangover. His skinny body disentangles itself from Renji's. They're both snug under the thick duvet, but their skin is cold and clammy, covered in red blotches. Uryuu doesn't remember much of last night, but with the dried clumps of cum covering his thighs, it's easy to assume what happened. As he sits up, he's incredibly aware of the sharp, aching pain from his knees traveling up to his waist where two large bruises sit. He glances back down at Renji who's been treated just as badly with claw marks decorating his back. No surprise, they are always rough with each other every time.
Renji shoved Uryuu up against the door the very moment the got into the apartment and crushed their lips together. It wasn't a kiss so much as a collision. The stimulants and alcohol clashed in their systems sending reeling into a downward spiral of lust, tearing at each other's clothes. Hell, how could they even tell they were in the right apartment? God, they didn't care they just needed to fuck. Now. Uryuu bit down hard on Renji's bottom lip fucking the older man's mouth with his tongue. This is what I want...Uryuu wanted to say... I want you to fuck me like this. It's late, he didn't bother to look at the time, but he knew it was late enough to wake Renji's neighbors.
Uryuu glances at the clock and sighs. It's only 9:30. His body doesn't know how to sleep in apparently. He sighs realizing that he actually has to climb over Renji to get the to bathroom. The rate at that far too familiar cold, aching sensation means he needs to get to there quickly. His clammy skin almost sticks to Renji's. With a sharp frown, he's disgusted at his own utter disregard for hygiene. He gets so careless when he was high. He can't afford to get sick and God only knows what bacteria could be lurking in this pig-stye. He hated Renji's apartment so much. The idiot could barely keep it clean.
Uryuu didn't know what they tripped over—he couldn't even bring himself to care—whatever it was, it sent them careening into the sofa. Renji nearly landed on him. He could've broken him in half, the heavy brute. Uryuu disregarded the "what ifs" and sucked the hot, sweaty skin flesh of Renji's neck. The friction between their cocks forced Renji to make a split decision. He bit Uryuu's sensitive ear. He needed more than frottage and hickies. He growled out a command that earned a starved moan from his lithe little plaything. He bucked up sharply just to prove his point. Now. I want it now. Renji tries to catch his breath to say it, but Uryuu's sharp nails raking down his stomach make that impossible.
Uryuu digs his nails into his naked stomach as he struggles into the clothes he keeps in Renji's apartment since he always seems to end up here. It could be worse. He could be in some god forsaken alley buying pantyhose from prostitutes. Hell, they're better than he is. They get money for giving it up without strings. What did he get? Breakfast. Occasionally. His limbs are too numb, too cold to manage to put on a shirt. He just wraps a towel of debatable cleanliness around his waist and stumbles into the bathroom, collapsing to his knees in front of the toilet.
Renji licked his lips watching half-naked Uryuu get down on his knees in front of him. Ryuu wasn't in the mood for teasing. He tore open Renji's pants with that beautifully uninhibited look in his eyes the boy only got after three or four shooters and a good hit. Uryuu revels in that low, primal growl as he sucks down Renji's thick, salty cock. He's not allowed to go his own pace. Renji's fist pulled his hair forcing his up and down at a brutal rate. He clawed at Renji's knees. It wasn't not a plea to stop. It was a plea for more. He begged for it, even as Renji's cock beat at the back of his throat.
Uryuu's throat gets suddenly shorter and he gags, praying for just a hard dry heave. How humiliating would it be to vomit all over Renji's toilet? He doesn't have any time to mull over it as he proceeds to do just that; not just profusely but loudly. A multicolored combination of bar food, bile and desperation surged up from his stomach. It could be worse, he supposes. Worse than crippling nausea and chills shaking your bones. He barely has time to wipe his mouth before heaving into the toilet once again. Even now, he's a sick little masochist. How much pain will it take before he really forgets? How many track marks would he have by then? How many ill-fated stints in rehab? He's running out a questions and wherewithal and he lets his gagging and coughing answer back.
Uryuu fought back a coughing gag since Renji showed no sign of stopping. He only abided by the younger man's wishes and he wouldn't want another way. The rougher Renji was, the easier it became to block everything out. The chemicals were still working their way through their veins and the alcohol poured out of their sweat glands. Renji's hands worked through his hair making him go harder, faster. It wasn't passion, it wasn't love. It was need. The volume of Renji's voice meant he was close. God, so close. Uryuu was thankful for the warning and the assault on his throat ended with an explosive finish. He let the sticky, hot substance pour down his throat before finally swallowing.
Spitting the last little bit of sick into the toilet, Uryuu sighs and buries his face in his hands unsure of whether he was ashamed or if he was just exhausted. Both. He feels a presence standing over him and he knows it's Renji. The man sits down beside him and remarks on how fucked up they were last night. Uryuu chuckles weakly and agrees, reveling in the fleeting feeling of his friend's hand roughly patting his back. Softly, he asks just how hard Uryuu is coming off of their mindless binge from last night. The question is rhetorical. Nevertheless, Renji is worried. Uryuu's never been this bad before. Basically naked, collapsed on the floor, puking. If there was anyone who he would never think of as a train wreak, it was Uryuu. He eyes that shivering body and frowns. Have they finally hit the pits?
They hit the bed even though neither had any recollection of how they got there. They kept kissing and tearing at each other. Uryuu bit down on Renji's outstretched fingers covering them with sticky cum-stained saliva. He let out this high, keening wail as Renji forced two fingers into his small, puckering hole. Renji grinned wolfishly flipping Uryuu on his stomach so fast, his head almost hit the wall. He pulled the young one's hips up to his face. Tongue and fingers attacked that hole once more. A loud "OH FUCK!" hit the ceiling and Renji knew that he hit the good spot. It was time to get to the good part.
It's about time, Uryuu decides, to get off the floor. Unfortunately, he's not successful and Renji gets up and all but drops him into the shower. When Uryuu asks why, Renji just shrugs and replies that he smells sweaty getting a awkward, forced chuckles from both of them. Uryuu barely gets a chance to get the towel off before Renji turns on the hot water. He doesn't complain when the other strips down and they both just sit in the water, trying to get warm. The shakes have gotten to them both now. This is not the conventional way to shower together, sitting at the bottom of the shower floor, with nothing but the silence of regret and abject discomfort. Still, they trust each other. With a mix of soap and steaming water the grime of last night is clumsily scrubbed off their bodies. With a heavy dose of shame, Renji's eyes skate over the two hand print sized bruises on both side of Uryuu's hips and wonders if he should bother embarrassing each other with apology.
Renji grabbed Uryuu's hips and pulled him back sharply mercilessly penetrating him. Uryuu chanted "Fuckmefuckmeharderplease...morepleasemore..." into the pillow his face was buried in. The poorly supported bed chafed the dry wall, rocking back and forth with powerful abandon. Renji had Uryuu at his control and the latter was far too happy to oblige. Grunting, cursing and thrusting, the two moved in uncoordinated fashion. Uryuu twisted the sheets beneath him. Renji grabbed arms and abused the new angle to his complete advantage. God, Uryuu wass so fucking tight...and he made sure to tell him that over and over. He felt so good, only a whore could know how to fuck that good.
The water's still hot when Renji asks if Uryuu remembers what he called him last night. He remembers exactly. Renji doesn't need to apologize. It's true. Whore is an accurate label and he won't argue with it. Renji begs to differ. They always do this. Always. They clamor out of the shower. Uryuu's bluntness frustrates Renji and the latter has an explosive temper. That's even worse when he's hung over. They are shouting now. Uryuu's tired body nearly falls back over as he struggles to get dressed. A loose sweater and jeans; it's cold out there. They're screaming at each other by now. It's always like this. Two boys, a foster child and a neglected son, who went their whole lives struggling for affection. Begging for contact. Pleading for it. They can't abuse their bodies anymore so they abuse each other with razor-edged words, flinging them like weapons. This time, one of them was bound to be cut deep and crawl away bleeding.
Having flipped Uryuu on his back, Renji's positive that the resulting nail marks were now bleeding. The alcohol tinted sweat streamed into them, but it was a good burn. The air was searing, teeming with heat and shouted affirmations of pure filth. Renji wondered if the thumping on the wall is either his bed or his neighbors. He realized he didn't care. All he knew was the tight heat of Uryuu's hot little ass and his nails clawing gnawing at him. Pouring out obscenities, their swollen, red lips smash together and their tongue wage all out war. Renji pounded into Uryuu who just took it arching up into those bruising thrusts. Like he could give a damn about being sore. Those moans and curses built up to screams and Renji grabbed Uryuu's cock stroking him hard enough to chafe. As Renji's came into that ass filling it with that burning cum, Uryuu shrieked out his orgasm.
Uryuu's hoarse voice screams out an outraged plea for Renji to "just stop" that stuns the latter into silence. Not out of offense but shock. In the dull 10:30am sun, he sees the glimmer of tears and is completely unable to reply. Uryuu won't meet his eyes. His head is just bent with small, raspy breaths scraping his lungs. Renji's hand goes for his shoulder Uryuu jerks back avoiding touch altogether. Renji has never seen Uryuu like this. Ever. The smaller man's shaky hands silently collect the rest of his belongings before Renji can apologize for...anything...please anything just to make it better. There is nothing. Nothing that can fix this. They are spent.
Spent, the two fell back on the bed tangled up in each other, still kissing, licking and biting. The combined force of alcohol, chemicals and rough sex was far beyond any sort of normal high. Their minds were blissfully blank, clean slates for the alcohol to corrupt. Free of memory and pain. Light as feathers. Panting raggedly, they hung onto each other like they planned on cuddling then they suddenly burst into loud, nearly hysterical laughter.
Uryuu struggles under silent, suppressed sobs. Renji is utterly lost. They stand there, buckling under the weight of regret and confusion. There would never be an escape. Would there? It would always be like this. Always. No matter how many binges they went on, no matter how many used needles they obtained, they would always end up back here. Cold, shaking and trapped by memory, pain and addiction.
They were sky-high.
This is rock-bottom.
Thank you so much for reading. Please review.