Kira always begged just like Gin has taught him, and was rewarded with nails digging further into his flesh as the silver-haired man slid his tongue ever lower, or vicious bites. He would feel the first trickles of blood making their way down his hips, chest, neck…and Gin's tongue followed them down. Gin's sadism was something Kira had long become accustomed to, and over the last few years he'd become a masochist in return. Gin's teeth, his nails, even his zanpakutou…whatever it was that made him bleed forced deep moans from his throat and excited Gin all the more. He'd slowly been allowed to start touching Gin, instead of always being pinned down and viciously attacked. Whenever Gin was particularly pleased, he would let him take over, always leaving bloody scratches over his shoulders and occasionally scalp.
Gin had told him many times that he was beautiful with blood covering him, and that alone was enough to let him ignore all the gossip and strange looks he received from his team mates when they saw the cuts that he refused to let the Fourth Division treat. It's sick and unhealthy, Kira…why do you let Ichimaru do that to you? He was bombarded with the same questions every time, and his responses were never good enough to satisfy them. He wasn't being raped and beaten, the way some thought. Whenever Captain Ichimaru heard a rumour like that, his smile became just a little colder as he calmly denied that he would ever do such a thing; it was Kira's cue to nod and curl up to the larger man's side, hands clutching the man's white coat, and Gin would brush his bangs away from his eyes and rest an arm on his back. To most, that would be seen as an affirmation of love but Kira knew better. Gin was mocking them, showing them that whether they liked it or not, Kira was his.
His captain showed his love in other ways, and the gentle holds and caresses than he'd give in public meant nothing to either of them. Sometimes he would look at the others and wonder why they walked hand-in-hand like that, laughing with each other and exchanging soft kisses. It didn't make any sense; to Kira, love was being forced down into the bed, feeling his captain's tongue cleaning every wound he inflicted clean and then tasting his own blood when he was kissed roughly. Because that was real, and the gentle affection was fake. The bloodstains in his clothes and the scars on his body were proof of Gin's love, and he wore them proudly. Let them say what they wanted; he was his captain's and he wouldn't have it any other way. And, he felt certain, Gin felt the exact same…
Right up until Seireitei went to hell. When Aizen had 'died' and he'd ended up imprisoned in that dark cell, all alone, he had been lost. More than he had ever been in his life. There was no Gin to cut him and scratch him and make him feel safe in there, and he had become somewhat dissociated. Finally hearing that voice again, light blinding him as Gin came to set him free, he'd been overwhelmed and unable to say a word in response. Hearing Gin call him a poor little thing and say that he couldn't even stand to look had been just what Kira had needed to hear. It had assured him that Gin knew the toll this had taken on him, and he was going to make all that suffering end.
He'd been tested, and his loyalty had become even stronger. From that day on, there wasn't even the slightest hesitation in his mind when it came to executing the orders that Gin gave him, whether or not he understood the reasons behind them. For this increase in his servitude, Gin had handed control over to him properly one night. No gently phrased warnings not to do something, no hair-jerking to guide him exactly the way Gin wanted, nothing. He'd been lost and unsure what to do; Gin had always shown him what he wanted when they had sex, and he wasn't able to mimic the actions the silver-haired man did with ease. After many failed attempts, Kira had given up and asked his captain if he would please just guide him again, getting a consoling pat on the head and assurance that he would. And Gin had kept to his word without wavering, proud of his little Izuru having behaved so well even when he was given free reign.
He really had never had the thought that he was being manipulated enter his head…all there was in the world was Gin and the things surrounding him, The accusations that Captain Hitsugaya and the others made, he didn't believe in them for a second and when his captain didn't deny something he knew it was only because the man wasn't going to concern himself with stupid theories. But then…Aizen was alive and well, Tousen had been by his side, and Gin…Gin had gone with them. Without a word to him, Gin had left him behind. His world had finally crumbled down, and there was nothing that was going to fix it. Hinamori had nearly been murdered by Aizen, the man who she had believed in more than anything. She was still laying in a hospital bed, lost but alive, while he continued to go about everything with the pain of being abandoned weighing on him as well. But unlike Hinamori, he had been Gin's in every way.
Everything had been rebuilt now, and the only visible remainders of what Aizen had done was that there were no longer captains for the Third, Fifth and Ninth Divisions. Regular shinigami had gone back to their lives as though nothing had changed. They walked around again, chatting and smiling and holding each other…all that shallow, fake emotion was still holding out, but his and Gin's love had been shattered irreparably when the man had disappeared from this world altogether. If there was ever anything truly felt for him at all. He had loved and trusted Gin with all his heart, let himself get used to and even enjoy the pain inflicted on him, and believed that it would simply stay that way.
He had learned a lot from his captain, not the least of which was how to smile no matter how he felt. Hinamori remained visibly broken, but he passed the days acting as if nothing had happened. Everyone pitied him, but they still saw a man who never fell behind on his duties or reverted into reflection on what he'd lost. That wasn't the type of thing you show to others. The proper thing to do is smile and work calmly during the day and then retire to your room and break down there. To do otherwise would be improper. He hated Gin for what he'd done, but he also didn't lie to himself and try to believe that he wouldn't go back to him if he ever could.