He woke to a profound chill, cringing from his mattress' cold. But it wasn't his bed, it was glass, and he wasn't home. Careering debris swirled against the cool breeze that lingered around the abyss, gathering at the corners of his nose and eliciting a small sneeze. Black. Everywhere. This world had nothing but dust. The only sense of direction that was given was tiny celestial lights, putting the darkened world in a tinted cerulean covering. Though new to him, it all seemed strangely familiar. It was almost as if the shattered crumbs of reflection crafted mighty skyscrapers if pieced together. Or that the metal bars caging the area were never meant to exist. Perhaps the land was a transparent wall, revealing what little was left from his resolve long ago broken. Maybe that was the reason why he couldn't remember anything.

It was all very vague, why he comes here in his dreams every night for the past year. And during that time he questioned himself why he never thought to explore. No matter how curious he got, he couldn't bring himself to wander blindingly into danger. Little did he know he already had. There was a humming. A soft melody that pierced the excruciating silence he reeled in. However, the harmony wasn't exactly a peaceful one. No, it held a wicked tone in it. It sang of horror and dread, spoke nothing of tranquility for none was present. As if it spent its entire life in confinement. Maybe it has, and maybe that was why he was so drawn to it. He was enchanted by the beauty hidden behind its rage. And for a slight moment in its wake, a spark flared in his honeysuckle irises. And he was long gone.

He stood from his resting place, avoiding the army of craters that ceased to end. Quickly he traveled across the soil's different platforms, stopping when he caught sight of the creature singing. He gapped in sincere awe. White. And black. It was a man, or so he thought. It was him. Yet, at the same time it wasn't. Never in all his years alive had he seen something as remarkable as this. He literally stood before a clone of himself, except the stranger was seemed more indifferent. It was like he was the light and the other was darkness. Good and Evil. Weak and Strong.

The clone grinned, a maniacal laughter erupting, flashing a glimpse of his blue tongue in the process. The replica slit open his eyes to reveal golden pupils and suddenly vanished into the night, leaving nothing but one reminder of his presence, a single word. King.

The vivid feel of last night's dream haunted Ichigo-he couldn't understand it. Everything was damn confusing to him. He was just as clueless as he had been these past months. He knew his psychotic father would tease him to no end if told his only son dreamt of a man. But it wasn't just any man, it was more of a twin. However, the only twins in the family were Yuzu and Karin, nobody else. So why the hell couldn't he shake off his suspicion? His circle of friends questioned his wellbeing enough as it is, he didn't need any extra attention this may bring. Expecially from Rukia.

For fuck's sake he nearly murdered goat face for his dirty comments on 'morning wood', a wonderful way to start any day. Seriously, who in their right minds accuse their child of a hard on after having a nightmare? Oh, right, Isshin isn't considered a normal human being. He even scrubbed his body in anger while showering, cold water of course. He wasn't erect, but he knew he would be if he used the hot tab. And he didn't really look forward to that problem in his situation, not with a five year old for a father. Unable to focus, he looked out of the window by his seat.

Something screamed at him in the back of his mind, a warning of some sort. He couldn't really decipher the details, but he knew it was something big. If he spent lunch alone for the rest of the week, instead of in the usual company of misfit friends, he might just find a solution to his dilemma. The sun began to set, lighting the sky into a fiery flame-painting the clouds into an orange and red fusion. The view was mesmerizing, almost as much as the chiming of the school bell. Now he had a choice to make, Either retreat for the solitude of his bedroom or head to Urahara's for an hour of useless rambling. Should he wait until the problem faded, or visit the only person in town able to fix it. As 'tempting' as the first sounded, he chose the latter.

"Kurosaki-kun!" He groaned. Will nature ever cut him some slack? Skinny. Big bust. Orange hair. It was Orihime, Tatsuki's best friend. "May I have a moment of your time? I mean if you're not busy!"

Is she...blushing?

"Sorry Orihime, I'm gonna be busy all this month. Maybe next time?" It was a lie.

"O-okay! S-since you don't have any time." He just stalked off, not wanting to deal with anything more than his dream. He knew about her crush for him since it started, and in all honesty he couldn't return her feelings. He must be an idiot. The most beautiful girl in Karakura wants him and he can care less, didn't even bat an eyelash upon the discovery. She was obviously important to him, he treasured all of his friends. But that was just it, she was his friend. He didn't see her any other way. Poor girl, if only she knew his preferences.

...

His heart fluttered, a moan slipping from his parted lips at the other's advancements. Ichigo threw his head back in pleasure, shivering from the devilish flick of tongue running down his nape, drowning in a rush of adrenaline pumping through his bloodstream. His spikey hair tangled with the other's, his sun kissed skin hastily rubbing against alabaster flesh, craving the heavenly friction between their close bodies. They were pushed into a wall, his wall, committing distasteful acts of rebellion. His lean legs wrapped eagerly around his partner's torso, shuddering as he was roughly entered, enticing him even more. He was repeatedly thrusted into, and found himself immediately responding to his treatment. His hips moved in sync with the other's, meeting the pistoned pace set.

Here he was, touching his desire. Guiding his fingers around his sex as he quickly unraveled, sinking into the deadly pleasure. He was twisted around, clawing into the clinic as he was taken more brutally. Like an animal. He wasn't even an ounce bothered by the fact he was the bottom. The only thing on his mind was the release he was denied. The top's hand was firmly placed above his cock's tip, preventing any cum from lapsing. He knew what he had to do, what his partner craved to hear from him. Begging. But he wouldn't do it.

Ichigo grew hard, pulsing into the other's fingers. "F-fuck!...ah...ah...AHHH!"

He was once again lifted, emptied and thrown on his bed as he was filled once more. Now he faced the man. It was his replica, a signature grin curving on the being's face as he continued. Ichigo was ravished, dominated for countless hours, not once granted his raw need to orgasm. The incubus savored his taste, his essence, his everything. Fucking him until the crack of dawn, even then wanting to never stop. But he had to, the teen was destined to wake.

As predicted, Ichigo sprang up. He sighed heavily as he glared at the tent under his covers with disdain. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"