Title: Breaking Point
Rating: NC-17
Genre(s): Yaoi, angst, non-con
Pairing(s): Hollow!Ichigo x Ichigo, Ichigo x Ishida
Spoilers: Slight spoilers for those who haven't gotten past the Soul Society Arc.

A/N: People have been wondering where I've gone off to! Sorry to leave you all for such a long period of time, but I haven't found much time for writing since I've moved back to texas. That's not to say I haven't been writing at all! Here is a fic that's being co-written between myself and KittyChou from y!gallery! This has actually been up on y!g for a while, but I figured that I should post it here, too! Especially to hopefully ease the worries of those who have been wondering about my absence. Let me just say this: Kitty is a much better writer than me! You can tell by the different style for our collaborations! And there will be more than just one!

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Ichigo rested his head in one hand as he stared blankly up toward the front of the classroom where Ochi-sensei was giving a lesson on...math? His brown eyes flicked toward the board briefly before fixing on his teacher again. Yep, math. Holding back a sigh, Ichigo laid down his arm on the desk and leaned back in his chair, tapping his foot lightly on the floor. For the past few days it seemed like he had too much energy to be contained and with the lack of hollows, school was doing nothing to help that. Brow furrowed with discontent, his gaze drifting around the room restlessly.

Beside him, Rukia was writing down notes with studious intent, but after a moment of watching her Ichigo realized that while her hand was moving over the paper, her eyes were actually focused on a horror manga hidden partially under her textbook. Rolling his eyes a little, he idly made a mental note to tease her about it later. They needed little excuses like that to start bickering these days.

Mizuiro was sitting in front of the Shinigami, watching Ochi-sensei with rapt attention. Probably undressing her with his eyes like the pervert he was, Ichigo thought and snorted softly. It sometimes surprised him that his small and adorable looking friend could have the tastes he had, or that older women were actually into Mizuiro's boyish looks. Studying his small friend, Ichigo's eyes ran over the nape of his neck lightly, bare above the collar of Mizuiro's shirt. Pale, smooth skin... For a moment he imagined running a long tongue along the stretch of warm, clean flesh that would have a soapy tang of maleness and something indefinably Mizuiro. His exploration wetting the boy's collar lightly, he would press his lips to the naked skin above and then bite down as he-

Breaking off that line of thought abruptly, Ichigo sat up sharply, realizing he'd been rocking his hips a little in his seat. What the hell? Had he seriously just been having some kind of...of sex fantasy about Kojima? Eyes casting furtively around him, he prayed that no one had seen him. His semi-erect length quickly softened with the guilty shock and Ichigo was very glad to hear the bell ring, signaling the end of classes.

Clearly he was in desperate need of fresh air, and with that thought in mind Ichigo gathered up his things. Getting up from his chair he couldn't help but sweep his eyes around the room again to make sure nothing strange might have happened to any of his friends during the class period. It was a habit that Ichigo had picked up after losing Rukia and he figured there was no harm in his caution. Chad, Keigo... Mizuiro... they were all fine. Inoue was talking animatedly to Tatsuki as they exited the classroom, though for the life of him Ichigo couldn't tell what they were talking about. Sometimes Inoue's line of thought scared him. Standing beside her desk, Rukia had just finished putting her things away.

"I won't be long, Ichigo. I'll see you later."

Rukia raised a hand in parting as she passed him by. She had told him earlier that she needed to see that sandal-hat guy after school today. Re-stocking her supplies, no doubt.

"Aa, go."
He waved her off. She still treated him as if he needed her help every step of the way. Ichigo didn't even need her to get out of his body during a hollow attack anymore. Rukia acted as though he were a child. Ichigo's frown deepened a notch or two, the difference unnoticeable by most, and he stuffed his books into his bag. Or tried to, but something soft and springy bounced the books right back at him. What the?

Ah, damn.

Yuzu had asked him if he could do something about a ripped teddy bear. Ichigo told her he'd take care of it, but he was really just going to give it to Ishida to fix. He'd have to catch him before he left, but a quick look around the room showed that the Quincy was already gone. Damn it! Ah, wait! Today they had that club, handicrafts or whatever it was. Perfect, Ichigo could ask for his help there and even ask Inoue for the math assignment he'd missed during his…moment. Knowing Ochi-sensei there would be homework and since nothing major seemed to be happening in the Shinigami world he was determined to get his grades back up. The instructors were giving him a harder time than usual lately because of his absences and the resulting grade slip. Hopefully Ishida and Inoue would help him so he could be on his way.

Said Quincy Archer was indeed in the Handicrafts Club, and the first to arrive as usual. For the past few meetings Uryuu had been working on a special project, a multilayered Victorian style dress in russet brown and gold for an exquisite little porcelain doll. The dress was his biggest project to date and he felt inwardly smug when the other club members would all gather round to watch his progress. He painstakingly added lace to a layer of ruffles, bunching the material very lightly to get the desired affect, but not enough to ruin the overall look of the dress.

Uryuu paused for a moment when he felt a very large and very familiar spiritual pressure approaching, but then ignored it, continuing with his work. Kurosaki was headed for them, and a part of him wondered why, but for the most part he knew that it wasn't any of his business. More than likely it was something to do with Orihime. With his Quincy abilities, he would know if it had to do with a hollow.

Coming to the classroom that housed the club, Ichigo peered inside with a frown to be sure Ishida was there before he stepped inside. It would be a huge pain in the ass if someone assumed he was visiting a club because he intended to join. Giving the now Tatsuki-less Inoue a brief nod, he made his way to Ishida's desk and looked down over his shoulder at what he was doing.

"That's...a lot of lace and ruffles, don't you think?" Ichigo asked and eyed the piece critically, putting his hand on the back of the Quincy's chair as he leaned forward. A soft, spicy scent caught his nose and Ichigo's frown deepened quizzically as he tried to figure out the source.

Uryuu's eyebrow twitched at the question, especially when coupled with the lack of personal space between himself and the Shinigami. He pushed the needle through the fabric a little harder than he meant, tearing a small hole into the lace that only furthered his indignant anger.

"Was there something you wanted, Kurosaki?" His voice was icy and clipped, but polite all the same, although Uryuu didn't bother turning from his work to look at the Soul Reaper.

Ichigo didn't seem to notice the anger, nor did he acknowledge the question as he leaned in closer, catching more of the scent. His hair...it was Ishida's hair, Ichigo realized dimly, his eyes trailing over the silky black strands. They were probably soft...like kitten fur. The thought struck him as a little odd, but he didn't pay any mind to it, his nose brushing Ishida's dark hair for a brief moment as Ichigo breathed in slowly.

The lace rustled as Uryuu's hands froze and then stiffened in surprise on the delicate fabric, dark blue eyes widening behind his glasses. Had Kurosaki just...sniffed him? The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as a shiver and a flush traveled up his spine, creeping pink up from his collar. Uryuu thought that he had felt Kurosaki nose him for an instant as well. But…but that was absurd!

"Kurosaki...?" The query was soft and confused, seeming alien on Uryuu's lips, and he mentally cursed himself for the light hitch in his voice. The Quincy stared very hard at the ruffles in his hands, almost as though he were afraid to turn around, his heart sounding very loud in his ears.

A wash of cold realization came over Ichigo and he pulled back sharply, jerking Ishida's seat slightly. He froze for a long horrible moment, eyes locked on the dark hair and tense shoulders. Had he just...no. He couldn't have... He didn't just-! Tugging open his book bag, Ichigo reached inside and caught hold of the teddy bear, almost ripping the tear wider in his haste to yank it out and toss it on the desk.

"Can you fix that?" Ichigo demanded roughly, looking anywhere but at the Quincy or his hair.

Uryuu finally managed the nerve to turn around after blinking at the bear for a few seconds, nodding numbly. "Yes..." If he concentrated on the normalcy of the request he didn't have to think on what had just happened… If it had really happened at all, since it seemed more like something out of a weird dream. "Do...you need it right now?"

"No," the Shinigami said firmly, closing his bag again. "I'll get it tomorrow. I have to go."

Turning, Ichigo all but fled the room, deliberately not thinking about Ishida, or any part of Ishida. He did not think about the softness of his hair or the scent that had started to harden him for the second time that day. Granted, it didn't take much for a teenage boy to get aroused and Ichigo was no exception. But that did not include arousal over the smell of another boy's hair! Did it…? NO! With a strangled sound, Ichigo nearly ran down the stairs in his haste to put as much distance from himself and this bizarre day as possible. Unfortunately, fate decided not to be kind today, and on top of the other indignities of his unruly mind (and body), Ichigo slamming head first into something hard and unyielding.

"Ah… damn!" He pushed off the warm, solid surface with a hand as the other rubbed the sore spot on his nose with a grimace. Who the hell put a wall in the middle of the school entrance? It was a fire hazard! But the uneven plain under his fingertips, firm under soft cotton that bulged rather pleasantly in places, made him realize that it wasn't a wall at all. Ichigo's eyes traveled up… and up until his eyes locked with the single visible soulful brown eye of Chad. Chad, who was staring back at him silently, though the concern was clear in his thoughtful gaze, seeming to hold an unspoken, 'Are you alright?'

"Geez, sorry Chad. Guess I wasn't looking where I was going."

But even as Ichigo apologized he figured that he probably hurt himself more than he had hurt the gentle giant. His nose still hurt and it was probably red, which was another cause for annoyance on this gruesome day. Why did Chad have to be such a brick wall, anyways? He was enormous and consisted more of muscle than anything else. Of this, Ichigo was sure. He must work out like crazy to keep a physique like that.

Almost looking past the silent man now, Ichigo imagined what sort of workout regimen Chad had to keep stay that fit. Maybe dumbbells or barbells, Chad did look like he could carry a great deal without straining himself. He could easily see Chad lifting massive weights, the strain and movement of thick, corded muscle under that tanned skin, sweat making it glisten enticingly. The intense look on Chad's face, the strong, masculine scent, the-

Ichigo went completely rigid when he realized that in his daze his hand had started to roam over the broad expanse of Chad's chest with single-minded fascination. Even now it smoothed down his arm, feeling the thick muscles and marveling in the feel of hair over his sun-warmed skin, so unlike his own nearly hairless arms. His hand snapped back as though he'd been burned, and Ichigo forced his arm down to his side. Fuck! He was doing it again! Why the hell was he aroused by the thought of Chad working out? What was wrong with him?

Sado hadn't said anything as his friend touched him and only frowned curiously at him now, his full lips pursed slightly in concern. Ichigo was acting strangely...and he had been for several days, now that Sado thought about it. Like at lunch this afternoon when the Shinigami had leaned forward and eaten something out of Keigo's hand before continuing his meal like nothing had happened. And just now, just for a moment, Ichigo's eyes had seemed...wrong.

It was a while before Sado carefully chose his words, looking down at Ichigo's feet. "You're still wearing your slippers."

Taken aback, Ichigo tried to figure out what slippers had to do with feeling up the giant before he looked down at his feet as well and cursed. "Well, shit. I'd better go get my shoes. The last thing I need right now is detention for dirty slippers. Thanks, Chad!" Glad for the excuse, he turned and hurried back inside. Ignore it, he thought firmly to himself. Ignore it, pretend that it's not happening and get the hell home!

After defending against a half-hearted round of attacks from his father, Ichigo shuffled into his room and shut the door firmly behind him, locking it. He was grateful that Yuzu hadn't had a chance yet to ask him about the bear...Ishida was competing for the top slot on the list of Things He Was Not Thinking About. Tossing his book bag into one corner, his brown eyes scanned irritably for Kon as he started to change out of his uniform. Having a fight with the possessed doll would be a good stress relief right about now, but to his disappointment, the lion was no where to be seen.

Dressed now in a t-shirt and jeans, Ichigo flopped back onto his bed, folding his arms behind his head and glaring up at the ceiling. What was going on with him today? Had all this restlessness he'd been feeling made him into some sort of sex maniac? But now that Ichigo stopped to think about it, strange things had been happening for a few days now... Like when he'd looked at Renji for a bit too long in the locker room shower, tracing the angular tattoos with his eyes. Or when Ichigo had wondered if Ikkaku's shaven scalp would feel different from the rest of his skin if he reached out to rub his fingers over it.

Frowning deeply, Ichigo couldn't understand what the hell was going on in his head. One too many knocks from hollows and other Shinigami, probably. But maybe it was just that he didn't feel comfortable fantasizing about the girls in his life? For a moment, he tried to imagine Rukia naked...and then laughed out loud, covering his mouth so his family wouldn't investigate. That idea was completely absurd! Rukia would beat him up if she ever suspected he'd had that thought, and Ichigo probably wouldn't stop her.

Still grinning, he thought of a nude Inoue instead, but it was too much like trying to picture one of his sisters, which made him shudder and cringe. There was Matsumoto, but she was way too forceful and would probably be one of those really dominant older women. Maybe a more reserved, if weird and quirky older woman, like Ochi-sensei... Ichigo was surprised to feel a faint throb of heat as he thought about that spectacled face framed by dark hair, flat chest, narrow hips, slanted eyes that pierced like an arrow...and that scent... Breath hitching, Ichigo realized that he was no longer thinking about Ochi-sensei and that his jeans were tented now. Pulling his pillow from behind his head, he held it over his face and gave a frustrated yell into it. What the hell was wrong with him?

Ichigo tried to imagine every girl he knew, even those he had only met once, both in the human world and Soul Society. None of them were getting the reaction that he wanted from his 'Zanpaktou'. Why? Ichigo couldn't think about it, he had to distract himself somehow. Tossing the pillow aside, he sat up, his face reflected at him from the mirror across the room. For an instant, Ichigo's reflection grinned maniacally at him before it was gone, like a trick of the eye. It was so brief that he almost missed the insane grin, but his eyes quickly shot back to it. There was nothing out of the ordinary in his reflection now. Had it been…? No… He was just... tired... and stressed from the horrible problems of today.

Ichigo had almost convinced himself until he heard the soft, eerie laughter he had almost managed to push from his memory. It almost sounded as though it came from behind the walls of Ichigo's room instead of the walls of his mind. Cursing, he got out of bed, a hand pushing angrily into his hair.

"It IS you! Damn it! I've already beaten you, so don't think I'll lose to you now!" Ichigo accused the empty room, his eyes narrowly focused on his mirror image.

The reflection shimmered and the pale figure of the hollow stood before him, wearing a white and black parody of Ichigo's t-shirt and jeans. Grinning widely, the hollow laughed again, his yellow eyes burning brightly, the only color in the starkness of his form.

"Oh no, looks like I've been caught! You haven't changed much, Ichigo…still a disappointing idiot. You're delusional if you think you'll ever really beat me. Every now and again the horse has to throw the rider, foolish King," the ghostly pale figure remarked with a grin, his dry voice hovering on the edge of laughter. "And this time, you've already lost."

As though to prove his point, Ichigo's body stiffened uncontrollably and the hollow laughed, stepping away from the bed and closer to the mirror. The Shinigami was helpless but to move forward as well, like he was the reflection of the phantom. Even as Ichigo's throat closed to have his worst fear confirmed, he felt a faint sense of relief as well. He wasn't losing his mind; this twisted hollow version of his soul was doing it to him.

"You're probably thinking, 'At least it's not me!" the hollow began as cold fear settled like ice into Ichigo's stomach, "At least I'm still good and righteous and pure and moral and BORING.' But I have news for you. I'd be just as happy sinking my teeth into little Rukia or voluptuous Orihime. To be honest, Ichigo, I'm just not that picky. "

Gritting his teeth, Ichigo's muscles strained hard as he fought for control, far from weak and refusing to go down without a fight. "I'll just get back on top of you again, you fucking horse! And I'll kick your ass for thinking about my friends like that! Let me go!"

They stood a few feet in front of the mirror now, man and ghost on either side of the glass. Laughing wickedly at the innuendo of Ichigo's retort, the hollow cocked his head and released the Shinigami's movements, but held him on the spot.

"Now you're getting your head in the game! But I'm not the only one having bad thoughts, Ichigo… It's all in there, in you. All it really takes is a small push to bring them out. Before long, I'll nudge your mind and you'll crumble to my will!"

With a manic laugh, the doppelganger vanished from Ichigo's reflection, leaving him staring at himself as deathly white arms slid around the Soul Reaper's body in a mocking caress. It felt so real that Ichigo jerked in surprise and looked down, but there was nothing. It was only in the mirror. Another mind game, he thought and put all his effort into regaining control of his feet and getting the hell away from the mirror.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ichigo roared helplessly, his hands rising to push the hollow away from him automatically, grasping at phantoms that weren't really there.

A long tongue slid across the back of his neck, mimicking Ichigo's earlier fantasy of Mizuiro in a way that hitched his breath, the Soul Reaper's earlier vision of his friend melding into what he saw in the mirror. Only Ichigo was now in Mizuiro's place.

"I'm giving you what you've wanted all day…and what I've wanted for fucking YEARS!"

"I don't want this, you sick bastard! I never wanted this!"

But even as he spoke, the too-real feeling of the hollow opening his pants with a jerk had Ichigo moaning. Both of the cool, white hands pushed inside without hesitation and wrapped around Ichigo's cock to pull him free, yet at the same time he could clearly feel that he was straining against his jeans.

A shameful flush burned Ichigo's face as his traitorous body responded by bucking into the phantom touch, brown eyes fixed on the hands working over his aching length in the mirror. Despite the painful throbbing from his real erection, Ichigo refused to pull himself out. He wasn't going to give that bastard the satisfaction!

The hollow bit down on the nape of Ichigo's neck with a triumphant grin and rolled his hips forward in a slow grind. The Shinigami's various cries and denials were taken in with gleeful laughter, but otherwise ignored as the pale apparition squeezed the erect flesh in his hand, rubbing his thumb roughly over the tip. The second hand released him and moved upward to push up his shirt; spreading over his chest the way Ichigo had touched Chad.

"I wouldn't be so loud, Ichigo…imagine if Yuzu or Karin saw you like this."

Ichigo automatically tried to pull his shirt back down, forgetting once more that nothing in his true self had changed, that the reflection was a lie. Unfortunately, that knowledge didn't keep him from feeling the cool touch that drew sounds out of him… sounds that he never wanted his hollow self to hear.

"Bastard! Stop already!" There was a slight note of panic in the hoarse whisper of Ichigo's voice, feeling a swell inside of him he couldn't let out, couldn't give the hollow the twisted pleasure of seeing.

"Stop me, Ichigo, if you can! I may be your horse…but you haven't tamed me!" the hollow said into his ear, groaning hotly before he dissolved into dark chuckles. He started to pump Ichigo roughly, feeling his hold on the Shinigami slipping, but determined to finish him off.

Panting hard for breath, Ichigo sucked back his moans, though it did nothing to stop the small, almost whimpering sounds of pleasure he made low in his throat. He was almost back in control, he could feel it there and he would overcome his hollow self if he just held on a bit longer! But then the hollow's white hand clawed over Ichigo's chest and raked over his tanned skin. With a surprised cry, the jolt of pain sent a strangely erotic thrill through him and the Soul Reaper felt his release flood his pants, breath stilling in his throat.

The hollow shuddered in ecstasy behind him as Ichigo came, laughing through the electric thrill of it. "You're so damn weak… Someday, King…someday I'll have complete control over you and your powers… And then I will rape and kill everyone you love before I destroy the world…"

With a pleased sigh, the hollow faded from view, leaving Ichigo staring at his flushed, clothed reflection, his pants stained and his eyes haunted. He couldn't move…could barely breath. The thought of what had just transpired overwhelmed him to the point that his mind had become a white noise of shock.

Ichigo wasn't sure how long he stood there, but the sticky wetness in his jeans felt cold when he heard the soft clearing of a throat. For a wild moment, Ichigo thought the hollow had returned and flinched, but then turned slowly, his hand pulling his t-shirt lower over the stain instinctively. Rukia sat perched in the window, her face carefully guarded.

"How long have you been there?" Ichigo asked numbly, his voice a dry rasp.

"Not long," she lied for both their sakes.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Kitty: This is the first co-authored work between KittyChou and RedHaze! Fear our crazy craziness, spiced with crazy! Um...yeah! I got nothing more to say about it, except to enjoy the dirty things our combined minds create! What about you, Haze?

Haze: Hollow Ichigo is just the most adorable, lovable scamp, isn't he? X3

Kitty: He sure is! He sure is... Oh yeah! For those who are wondering, this is largely going to be a non-connish Hichi/Ichi before developing into a Ichi/Ishi! Just so you don't start reading this thinking that maybe Ichigo's going to run away to the Caribbean with Sado to become happy gay fisherman as they raise their beloved buttsex baby. Not that Sado wouldn't look amazing in some cut off jeans and a wife beater...laying in the surf... Mmm...

Haze: ... Anyways! There might be chances of Ichigo ho-ing it up with a few others before getting on with the Ichi/Ishi, but we make no promises... just the promise of smut! Lots and lots of smut! Oh! Please review!