Title: The Pious Lie

Warnings: religion-bashing, homophobia, strong language, teenagers, violence, heaps of angst, dirty talk, masochism, m/m sex, dubcon (or consensual noncon, if that makes any sense)

AN: There is a lot of plot here, but there is also a sex scene in almost every chapter. So, I guess this is considered 'porn with plot'? I've always wanted to explore the inner conflict of someone being both gay and Christian but it can be quite the sensitive subject for some. If you are easily triggered by anything listed in the warnings, proceed with extreme caution.

Theme songs: "All These Things I Hate" by Bullet for my Valentine (for Ichigo) and "Sick or Sane" by Senses Fail (for Uryuu)


A young man sits alone at the far end of a wooden pew, head bowed and hands clasped in silent prayer. Tightly pressed between his palms is a silver cross pendant inherited from his late grandfather. It has warmed welcomingly to his touch like so many times before, like it will many times more. Uryuu finishes his morning prayer with a whispered amen and lifts his head to see a cluster of classmates watching him from across the room. They snicker and gossip to each other at his expense, as many of his fellow students tend to do.

Top of his class with the pride to match, he is not well-liked among his peers. They call him elitist and rude and stoic, both behind his back and to his face. His natural genius and indomitable faith comprise an impermeable barrier preventing any connection he might otherwise form with them. Even the teachers in this private Catholic academy treat him differently because of it. At least they also respect and appreciate his penchant for excelling at anything thrown his way.

None of that matters in the slightest. Uryuu occupies his days with study and his nights with prayer. Anything else is extraneous.

He touches the cross pendant to closed lips and lowers it to rest atop his grey and red-striped tie. Rising from the pew, he smoothes wrinkles from his black uniform jacket and pulls the strap of his matching messenger bag over a shoulder. Class is starting soon and today won't be the day he is tardy for the first time. He makes his way out of the chapel, up two flights of stairs, and down the hall to homeroom with minutes to spare.

The students are abuzz with idle conversation as he walks in to take his assigned seat. Although Uryuu does his best to ignore their pointless prattling, snippets of discussion float in his direction nonetheless. At least they aren't talking about him this morning.

"Did you hear the news about Kurosaki-kun? He got into another fight with one of the teachers yesterday!"

"Are you serious? Man, he is so badass! Wasn't he the one who smuggled in spray paint last year?"

"Yeah. Him and his friends vandalized the altar in the chapel. I still can't believe they didn't get expelled!"

"Well, I heard Kurosaki took all the blame for it, and then his dad donated a bunch of money to keep him enrolled."

"Ha! Sounds like he couldn't leave this place if he tried."

"That's probably why he keeps starting shouting matches with the teachers!"

Their ensuing laughter suddenly dies off. Uryuu glances over his shoulder to see Kurosaki himself striding across the room to drop into his chair with an apathetic expression. His uniform is a joke: jacket creased, tie absent, shirt untucked. The top three buttons are undone and a brightly colored t-shirt is peeking out from underneath. He is wearing a non-regulation studded belt sloppily sticking sideways over his hip and a wallet chain that rattles noisily against the hard plastic seat. The already disruptive state of his loud hair is further exacerbated by the deliberate lack of a comb's attention.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he heaves an aggravated sigh and slouches against an arm propped on his desk. The sleeve rides up a little from the bend of his elbow, revealing a black cross he has inked boldly at his wrist. Upside down. Uryuu frowns. He has seen this 'accessory' several times before. Kurosaki has a habit of periodically redrawing it when he gets bored in class. Far from a symbol of sincere belief in the antichrist, Uryuu long since figured out that it is merely one more method he uses to irk authority figures and win favor with his classmates.

Apparently, it works. Unlike him, Kurosaki is universally adored by the pupil populace, as evidenced by aforementioned thrilling gossip. Everyone loves a rebel. Everyone except Uryuu, who despises him most of all. Which explains why they have been bitter rivals for the past two years.

Kurosaki notices the low-grade glare aimed in his direction and smirks. He gives Uryuu a patronizing little wave and chuckles at his wintry response. Blue eyes face front as Ochi-sensei steps up to her desk and prepares to call roll. Before she makes it to the end of the list, a folded piece of paper finds its way to a corner of Uryuu's desk. He grits his teeth. The annoyed look he shoots Kurosaki asks, It's going to be one of those mornings, is it? The self-satisfied punk raises his eyebrows as if to reply, Looks like it.

Ignoring the note will only make things worse, he knows from past experience. So, with great reluctance Uryuu inconspicuously unfolds it in his lap to read what marvelous epiphanies might lie scribbled within.

Saw you eyeing my art, Ishida. I'll draw you one, too, if you're jealous.

He resists the urge to shred the sheet out of pure vindictive spite and instead neatly writes, 'Art', Kurosaki? A hyperactive child could do better work. And the proper word is 'envious', which you would know if you weren't too stupid to learn basic language skills.

Ochi-sensei closes the roll book and turns to put dry-erase marker to board for the day's first lesson. When she begins to speak, Uryuu flicks the flat square back in Kurosaki's vicinity. He doesn't bother glancing over to gauge the reaction, but says a quick prayer that it will end there. It doesn't. The note is back on his desk in less than a minute.

I don't see a 'no, thanks' anywhere on this page. I'll take that to mean you really want a one-of-a-kind Kurosaki Ichigo masterpiece sketched on right after class. Send another glare my way for 'yes'.

Before he can stop himself, Uryuu is automatically glaring. Kurosaki laughs and Ochi-sensei interrupts her own lecture to toss a quick warning into the mix. Luckily, she doesn't notice the incriminating page on Uryuu's desk. As soon as is safe, he pens a scathing retort and sends it flying at the idiot. Three more times goes the agonizing circuit.

The only thing I would ever want from you is silence. Find someone else to pester!

Aw, don't be like that, Ishida! Who else brightens your day with witty banter? I know you secretly love these little talks. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you're an actual human being with feelings and everything. They don't suspect a thing!

I would rather be perceived as an emotionless android than associate with an ambitionless loser like you.

Who says I'm ambitionless? FYI, my goals are numerous and awesome. Becoming a stuck-up, dorky, religious nut just isn't one of them.

No, obviously you prefer to underachieve in every sense of the word and cause meaningless mayhem wherever you go.

Kurosaki's latest response bounces off the side of Uryuu's head just as Ochi-sensei looks out at the class. She pauses mid-word and marches over to swipe the note off the floor. Uryuu tenses at her stern expression. Opening the note and skimming the dialogue, she frowns disapprovingly even as an eyebrow arches in intrigue. She tucks the note into a pocket of her standard white teachers' blazer as evidence.

"Kurosaki, Ishida, you know the rules about note-passing. I'll see you two after class."

The other students erupt in a scandalized oooooh as she resumes her place at the board. Uryuu doesn't give Kurosaki the satisfaction of glowering a third time, choosing to concentrate on the lecture instead. In fact, he doesn't spare another thought to the boy for the rest of the period. Not until the chime announces the end of class and everyone gets up to shuffle out of the room, except the two of them. Then Ochi-sensei steps into the hall to answer a few quick follow-up questions and Kurosaki opens his big mouth.

"I bet you're wondering what I wrote after you, huh?"

"No."

"You're not the tiniest bit curious?"

"No."

"So, you don't wonder why Ochi-sensei was so interested when she got to the end?" Uryuu bites his tongue but can't keep from looking up in surprise. Kurosaki wears a wicked grin. "Well, if you don't want to know…"

"What did you do, Kurosaki?" he hisses.

"Not much. I may have implied you and I have been scheming over another vandalization project."

The chair screeches as Uryuu rushes to a stand. "You wanted to get caught, didn't you? All of this was a ploy to get me in trouble!"

"What can I say, Ishida?" he shrugs, reclining back like he couldn't be more unfazed about the whole situation, "I'm just an ambitionless loser who enjoys causing meaningless mayhem."

Uryuu is on him in an instant, grabbing a fistful of his messy uniform and yelling, "Don't drag me into your nightmare! I have more important things to do with my time than put up with you!"

"Ishida-kun!" Heads whip around to spot their teacher emerging from the hall. "I'm surprised at you! I expect this behavior from Kurosaki, but you should know better."

"Yeah, Ishida-kun. Don't you know better?"

His hold on the boy's shirt tightens, straining the stitches.

"That's enough, Kurosaki. Let him go, Ishida-kun."

He does, but not without taking a couple of buttons with him. Kurosaki lightly frowns to hear them tap the floor between his feet. Ishida takes a calming breath and addresses her in a reasonable tone of voice.

"I apologize, Ochi-sensei. It won't happen again."

"Not good enough. From this incident to the note passing, to the fight you two had in Kanonji-sensei's class last Thursday," which, for the record, was also Kurosaki's fault, "It's detention for both of you."

"What? You can't be serious!"

"This hurts me, too, Ishida-kun. Aside from your issues with Kurosaki, you've been a model student since you entered this school. But you're both seniors now and this has gone on long enough. If I let you start the semester off like this, things will only escalate from here. Report back to me after the final bell."

Further protests are refuted with a firm slash of her hand. Ochi-sensei points them to the exit and goes to wait for the next class at her desk. Uryuu grabs his bag and stomps from the room with as much composure as he can muster under the circumstances. He has never been so furious in his life! Precious hours gouged from him forever. All because Kurosaki got bored.

"Hey, wait up," calls the culprit. Uryuu increases his pace. "Is this your first detention?"

"What do you think?"

"Then you're lucky you get to spend it with me. Being cooped up in a room with nothing to do can get really dull. I'll keep things lively." Uryuu shoves him into a row of lockers as hard as he can. Kurosaki hits the metal with a clamor and a grunt, leaving a sizeable dent behind. He rubs his tenderized shoulder and asks, "Touched a nerve, huh?"

"Leave me alone!" Uryuu all but screams at him. The handful of students still loitering in the hall scatter from their blast radius. "Go back to your gang, public school drop-out!"

The permanent moue between orange eyebrows deepens dangerously as Kurosaki's taunting demeanor gives way to genuine anger. It seems Uryuu knows how to poke at his soft spots, too. Kurosaki crowds him toward the door of a janitorial closet and slams him up against it.

"You sure you want to antagonize a former gang member like this?"

"I'm not afraid of you," growls Uryuu, pushing him back.

"That's pretty reckless, considering I've got two inches and twenty pounds on you, easy."

"It's 'easily', Kurosaki. It's called an adverb. Look it up."

Using the strap looped around his chest to yank Uryuu forward, he brings their faces close together as he evenly says, "That self-righteous attitude of yours is gonna get you into a world of trouble one of these days, Ishida. You should be more careful."

"Are you threatening me?"

Shaking his head, Kurosaki ominously promises, "Trust me, you'd know if I was."

"Were."

"What?"

"Have you even cracked a book in the past decade?" Uryuu releases an exasperated sigh at his blank expression. "Unhand me. You've already landed us in detention; I won't let you make me late for class, as well."

Be it shock over his audacity or something else entirely, Kurosaki does let him go. Uryuu pushes him out of the way and continues down the hall to his next class.


Ochi-sensei seems glad to see them in a subtly sadistic kind of way. She orders them both to sit beside each other in the front row, smacking Kurosaki on the back of his head with a rolled up workbook when he dares to talk back. Standing before them with hands planted on hips, she sucks in a deep breath for the speech she's been waiting to give all day.

"It's no secret to anyone in this school that you don't get along. On the surface, you're polar opposites. But guess what, guys? I'm willing to bet you have a lot more in common than you think."

"Species and gender, that's about it." Kurosaki snorts, adding, "And I'm not totally convinced on the second part."

Uryuu kicks him in the shin.

"Hey! I want you both to talk it out. No more petty squabbles turned all-out brawls! The staff is collectively tired of it. Especially you, Kurosaki."

"You expect me to reason with this heathen?" Uryuu cries. "We'll be here all night!"

"You'll be here as long as it takes," she decisively states, "So you better get chatting."

With that, their teacher takes her exit and locks the door behind her. They look at each other for a moment. Then Uryuu pulls out a textbook and flips it to a relevant chapter. Kurosaki slaps it out of his hands.

"Didn't you hear her? No studying, Brainiac, we gotta talk."

"I am not speaking to you. What would be the point? We both know why we hate each other, and those reasons aren't going to change."

"Psh. Shows what you know. I have no idea why one glimpse of you makes me wanna beat you up. I just go with my gut."

Retrieving his lost book, Uryuu once again turns to the proper page as he says, "In that case, allow me to summarize: you hate me primarily because I make you feel stupid even when I'm not trying and I have strong conviction in my faith while you are left uselessly questioning the universe and your place within it. Does that clear things up for you?"

Kurosaki snatches the book from his grip and flings it across the room.

"Nah, that's not it."

"No? Enlighten me."

"Hm…maybe it's these?"

He reaches out to snag Uryuu's glasses right off his nose. The subsequent struggle draws Ochi-sensei back into the room, presumably from next door. She takes one look at their semi-wrestling match and groans.

"Seriously, guys? You really leave me no choice here. One week's detention."

"No!"

"Hah."

"Damn it, Kurosaki, this is all your doing!" His fists ache to punch the smug jackass right in his smirking mouth. "What exactly is your agenda?"

"I just love pissing you off, Ishida. Can't you tell?"

"Okay!" interjects Ochi-sensei, wearily massaging her temples, "No more therapy for today. Just…quietly cohabitate until I dismiss you. Stay on separate sides of the room if you have to, I don't care anymore."


Tuesday and Wednesday go much the same way as Monday, if not worse. Standing in front of the communal bathroom's wide mirror, Uryuu pulls up the hem of his grey t-shirt and twists to examine a bruise on his lower back from where Kurosaki knocked him into the edge of a short bookcase earlier today. If anything, their spats are becoming more violent since Ochi-sensei decided to try the 'lock them in a room together and let them hash it out' method. It doesn't help that Uryuu gives as much as he gets. It is a wonder they haven't drawn blood yet. He's sure Kurosaki is bound to be doing the same as him right now, only in the dormitory's west wing instead of the east. Thank God they weren't housed in the same hallway!

Uryuu returns to his room—thankfully single-occupancy as of this year on account of his senior status—and collapses into bed. Then instantly wishes he did so much more gingerly. Loosing a long sigh, he deposits his glasses safely on the side table and drapes an arm over his eyes. Brooding about his relationship with Kurosaki has been infringing on his sleep lately. It's not that Uryuu wants to detest him, he just can't seem to change it. The rational voice in his head tells him to form some sort of truce, but the louder voice is howling for him to smother the boy in his sleep.

His hand shifts to grasp his grandfather's pendant. The one he never, ever takes off. If Souken were still alive he wouldn't hesitate to chastise Uryuu for this unacceptable behavior. His path was always that of the pacifist. Nothing could be solved by treating conflict with violence, it would only lead to more strife. Uryuu knows this. The only way they will make it through their last school year intact is if they come to some manner of mutual agreement. A cease-fire of sorts. It is in both of their best interests to set their issues aside and move on.

And if Kurosaki can't come to that conclusion on his own, Uryuu will just have to convince him.


Easier said than done, he thinks as soon as he walks into the cursed classroom the next afternoon. Kurosaki has made even less effort with his uniform than usual, having shed both his black blazer and white button-up. Two necklaces hang to share limited space in the hollow of his collar bone. A neon green tee boasting an invective-ridden proclamation in imperfect English blares at Uryuu like an offensive beacon.

He positively cannot stop himself from greeting the boy with, "Goodness, Kurosaki, even your clothing is lacking in proper grammar. There really is no hope for you."

Uryuu gets a rude gesture for his trouble. That's strike one for Operation Cease-Fire. Dropping his bag into a random chair, he walks over to Kurosaki's desk and waits for him to glance up from the manga he is perusing in lieu of actual studying. Uryuu opens his mouth to begin the persuasive monologue he practiced last night and this morning. Then he notices something odd on the cover. Tilting his head to see it clearer, he could almost swear…

"What? You've never heard of Boy's Love manga before?" His eyes flare to have his fear confirmed. Kurosaki scoffs at his appalled expression. "If you say 'God hates fags', Ishida, I swear I will deck you."

"I would never—well, I wouldn't say it like that," he amends, incredibly uncomfortable with the subject, "But you know it's wrong. You attend a Catholic school. We've all read the Bible."

"Fuck your Bible," is the heated retort, complete with glare. "I'm not Catholic. I'm not even Christian. Proud atheist, through and through. If you don't like it, add it to the list."

Taking a moment to mentally regroup, he cordons that topic off for now. It will only lead to bad things. Very bad things.

"Listen, I don't want to argue with you today. I've been thinking about this, and it makes sense for us to stop our feud before it spirals out of control."

"You do realize you're talking to the poster-boy for 'out of control'? I've got the anarchy patch to prove it," he brags, pointing to a red circled A sewn onto his bag. "What makes you think I'd want to give up my favorite hobby of making your life hell?"

The muscles in his jaw jump from the effort of keeping his mouth shut against a rush of righteous fury. The slow bloom of Kurosaki's knowing grin does nothing to assuage his ire.

"Because if we continue at this pace we won't last the year."

"You mean they'll kick us out? If only!"

Uryuu folds himself into the empty seat next to him, wilting from emotional fatigue. He studies Kurosaki, who has already gone back to reading his smut, and considers his options. It might help to understand him a little better.

"If you hate religion and you hate this school, why not transfer somewhere else?"

Without looking up from his book, Kurosaki grumbles, "Because my dumbass dad won't let me."

"Why not?"

"None of your business."

Another dead end. At this rate, Uryuu is going to earn a migraine long before he earns Kurosaki's accord. He turns a page and hums thoughtfully, completely oblivious to Uryuu's imminent breakdown.

"Did I do something to you?" he blurts out of sheer desperation. "Aside from the usual, I mean. Maybe something I don't even know about or remember? Anything that could explain this animosity?"

Kurosaki sets his manga flat on the desk and rotates to face him. "You really wanna know?"

"Yes."

"It's not that complicated, Ishida. I think you're a sanctimonious, arrogant, intolerant douchebag and I hate your face."

"And you're a stubborn, impetuous imbecile who would rather throw everything into chaos for the fun of it than make an honest attempt at influencing your own life!"

"Great. Now that's settled, can I read in peace?"

"Oh, that's rich coming from you! Did your selective memory erase the fact that you've been keeping me from getting any schoolwork done all week?"

"Yeah, but now I want to read, so count your blessings or whatever and shut the hell up."

"How can you even read something like that here?"

"Easily."

While he is processing the revelation that Kurosaki actually learned something from him, the boy rises from his desk to stand behind Uryuu's. He uses the circle of his arms to hold the book right in front of Uryuu's face, and also to hold him in place.

"Kurosaki, whatareyoudoing?" he rattles in a rush, deeply unsettled by the abrupt maneuver.

"I'm showing you how I can read something like this. See, this guy has the hots for his neighbor, who has a girlfriend but he might be kinda gay. It's not clear yet. So, he gets his neighbor drunk one night while the girlfriend is gone and—"

"I don't want to hear the plot!"

"Oh, you just want to skip right to the steamy scenes?" Kurosaki asks, voice lowering as he moves his mouth closer to Uryuu's ear, close enough to feel the heat of his breath. "All righty. Naked men comin' right up."

"What? No, that's not what I'm saying!"

"I really like how they drew the kissing scenes in this one. They convey the hesitation and helpless lust so well. Plus, sound effects can really make the difference, y'know?"

Uryuu goes rigid in his seat. There are detailed drawings of men making out a handbreadth from his nose. He doesn't want to see this. He should not be seeing this. Kurosaki turns a page and Uryuu chokes, yanking his hands up to cover his eyes. It's too late. He already saw them having…homosexual intercourse.

"Put it away," he begs. "Put it away, Kurosaki!"

"Don't act so traumatized. This one isn't even that graphic."

"It's vile!" Uryuu knocks the book away and ignores the boy's indignant protests. "What was the purpose of that? To disgust me? This is a new low, even for you!"

Halting in the process of fetching the book from the floor in front of his desk, Kurosaki tugs and then pins Uryuu's arms to the desktop to growl at very close proximity, "Is it a new low, Ishida? The thought of a man being attracted to another man disgusts you?"

"Of course!"

"Then why are you blushing?"

"B-because it's embarrassing!"

"Why are you shaking?"

"I'm angry—livid!"

His grip tightens painfully around Uryuu's forearms. "Why are your pupils dilated? Why are your lips flushed? Why are you breathing so hard?"

"Are you," he cautiously begins, breathless with incredulity, "Are you seriously insinuating that I am…aroused by that filth?"

Kurosaki lets up, pacing several steps away. His nostrils are flaring and his eyebrows are almost touching. For all the times they've antagonized each other, Uryuu has never seen him this agitated before. It seems he stumbled upon the boy's number one weakness. He could milk it for endless exploitation and instigate a final battle, or…

"What do you want from me?" Kurosaki turns to appraise his sincerity. "What will it take to get you off my back for the rest of the year?"

"Are you bargaining with me?"

"If that's what it takes."

He is considering it. Uryuu can tell he is really thinking about it. Gradually, a change comes over Kurosaki's countenance as some undoubtedly nefarious notion burgeons in his mind. Uryuu doesn't like the manic look in his eyes when he closes the distance to stand before him again.

"Kiss me." His stomach drops and his chest constricts. There is no way he heard that right. Kurosaki hastily repeats, "Kiss me and I'll pretend you don't exist for the rest of the school year."

Alarm rings, panic rises, heart shudders. Uryuu stands with a clatter and instinctually backs away from him, shaking his head when the words won't immediately come to him.

"N-no! Why would you—"

"Because it disgusts you," Kurosaki coldly snarls. He gains ground faster than Uryuu can lose it. His back meets a solid surface and he gasps as he is promptly trapped against it. "Because it's 'wrong'. Because I know you'll never compromise your precious Word of God just to be rid of me. Because you're a good little Catholic boy and you wouldn't dare do something so revolting with your worst enemy. Would you?"

Uryuu swallows around the lump in his throat and forgets to breathe for a few seconds. Kurosaki is right: it is absolutely inconceivable. Such an act goes against everything he believes. His fingers enclose his cross of their own volition. He shuts his eyes and prays for the fortitude to withstand this heinous tribulation. His eyes fly open as Kurosaki forces him to release the pendant and rips it from his neck. It is lobbed carelessly to the ground with a harshly challenging expression.

Seeing it discarded there like second-hand junk does something to him. All the anxiety and dissension disappears. His mind clears. He shoves Kurosaki off him and throws a punch for good measure. The boy is too blindsided to block and he bumps against a desk from the impact of a heavy blow to his cheek. Bringing a hand to his mouth, Kurosaki curses to see it come away bloody. He stares at Uryuu but makes no move to return the attack.

An adrenaline-charged pause passes. Kurosaki straightens, moving to grab his things and leave the room without a single parting word or glance. It takes three tries for Uryuu to pick his necklace up, due to the incessant tremble of his fingers.