Note, you don't have to read "Becoming Soft" to understand this, however you get Aizen's POV in that fic and a clearer image of why this is happening.

Warnings: AU, OOC, cursing, yaoi, smut and smut, threesome and some smut.

Word Count: 4,345

They were approaching their one year anniversary. A year must feel like a blink to a shinigami, compared to the hundreds of centuries they lived. Even the youngest of shinigami have a good amount of decades on the redhead's age. The concept was foreign to Ichigo, there were times Aizen tried to explain it with the best of his ability, but it confused him further and bored him to near death. The guy could ramble on and on, words coursing like a river, never-ending— it drove Ichigo crazy.

Being the straight-forward ass he prided himself for, the redhead made sure to let Aizen know.

In front of the espada too.

It was fun watching the look of sheer anger takeover those deep brown orbs. The sight made Ichigo tingle with arousal, crotch twitching excitedly, urging him to continue his taunting. Punishments were never overlooked. They were swiftly and sternly given after Ichigo was silenced. Maybe he was a masochist. He definitely was a sadist. He lived for the moments when he pissed Aizen Sosuke off in front of a crowd of people— his loyal subjects actually.

Ichimaru loved it. The white-haired shinigami would snicker behind Aizen, earning him a pointedly look from Tousen— not that anyone could tell, the dude always sported glasses. Then Ichimaru would add in some sarcastic remark to accompany Ichigo's complaint. If Ichigo inspected really closely— he meant closely— he swears Ichimaru was on his side, rooting for him. Strange. Wasn't he supposed to be Aizen's right-hand man? The shinigami was always weird though, so maybe it wasn't too surprising he enjoyed ruffling the lord's feathers.

Grimmjow and Nnoitra loved it too. Every single time the duo would burst out into a fit of laughter. It only egged their ruler on, deepening his anger, making him want to rip the teen's head off— actually Aizen wouldn't do that, more like spank the living shit out of him— in front of everyone. The thought of being spanked excited him, but not when there were numerous sets of eyes watching, he would slide past that opportunity and luckily Aizen had not acted on it.

Despite popular belief, Ichigo did like when his lover was happy. It was one of the reasons he had betrayed Soul Society, what seemed like forever ago, but was really a little over a year. Aizen Sosuke knew how to whisper sweet nothings into his ear, lips pressed into a tender grin, hands caressing all of his favorite spots, coaxing the male to abandon his life and start anew.

Why did the forbidden fruit have to be so tempting? Ichigo was drawn to it, like a moth to a flame, taking a hearty bite and seamlessly transforming into Aizen's partner overnight.

He remembered the day— as if it were yesterday— he confidently stood before Soul Society, denouncing his position and stripping himself of his badge. Why had he done it?

There was not one simple explanation for the question, rather, there were many reasons.

For one, Ichigo had— dare he say it —fallen in love. The redhead never told the "three-little-words" to Aizen, yet, but his heart had felt it. He was in a trance around the man, head swirling with adoration, hands reaching out to grasp him closer. The need to have him around was intense and unwavering. Nights were often invaded with thoughts of Aizen pressing his heavy body atop of his own, arms tightly embracing him, wishing the redhead would never leave his side.

Although, the man had to work for Ichigo to be so compliant, it took him many months of heated retorts, glares that looked as if daggers would shoot from amber eyes, hard fists hitting against a broad chest, an unwilling substitute soul reaper fighting the idea of siding with the enemy— Ichigo was well aware of how stubborn he was. It was his right, and really, how else was he expected to act? He wasn't going to blindly enter a situation that had the potential to get him killed, not a chance in hell.

But somehow, his sinister lover was able to steal his heart. More like Ichigo— eventually— shoved it in the man's hands without any questions.

The things he did for love.

A second reason, the Seireitei was corrupt. It was using him like a lap dog, expecting him to continue fighting an empty-enemy, empty because Orihime was safely returned and the enemy had nothing of importance to Ichigo. Yeah, he was causing problems for Soul Society, but what did that have to do with him? Unless the man made a move on Karakura Town, his friends or family, then he had no reason to continue fighting.

On another note, the Seireitei was driving the Rukongai into further poverty, keeping their prosperity locked away behind their giant walls. If Aizen preyed on the innocent, so did the Seireitei— pot calling the kettle black. It seemed like all types of government had flaws. The Seireitei used their shinigami as pawns just like Aizen used the arrancar. Ichigo could have flipped a coin to decide which side was better.

Some would argue Aizen was worse, but they didn't know the man like Ichigo did. They never saw what was beneath the dangerous, arrogant exterior— the lost soul who craved for acceptance, wished for an equal, maybe even hoped for someone stronger than him to come along.

Ichigo could be that.

Aizen never acted weak in front of him nor did he tell him he wanted that, but the teen possessed the ability of reading the man easily. He saw what went on behind those dark brown eyes.

He managed to keep his friends— somehow. It puzzled the teen, but his friends were still talking to him. Probably because they were conjuring up a plan to convince him to comeback, but they rarely brought up that topic. They never spoke of Aizen—ignoring that topic entirely. They would only talk about Aizen if Ichigo brought him up. The teen preferred this unspoken rule, he did not need them prying into his life. He was a big boy— one who could make his own decisions without their approval.

However, a few shinigami shunned him, but none of his close friends. Rukia, Renji, Orihime, Uryu, Chad— all were comfortable with Ichigo's decision. It didn't make the redhead their rival. He never changed him. Ichigo was still the scowl-wearing, loud-mouthed, truth-bearing, loyal friend.

So who cared he wasn't loyal to Soul Society?

His dad had a few bones to pick with his decision, but he, reluctantly, accepted it. Along with his sisters. There was not much to say about his family— they knew Ichigo wasn't completely an idiot. Their trust stayed with him. His family was given the option of visiting Las Noches whenever they pleased. Isshin had taken it the first chance he got—interrogating the brunette, questioning his motives, until they both settled it over tea and mused about ancient memories back in their soul reaping days.

Ichigo was not a caged up animal. Aizen allowed him to freely come and go as he pleased. The teen was able to go to school, sleep at his home— escape on a break from the mundane nights of Las Noches.

That was also another reason why he chose this place, Aizen trusted him. There were rules he were to follow, but Aizen never took away his freedom. He never doubted the redheaded shinigami. He knew Ichigo would return. His home was Hueco Mundo.

No.

His home was Sosuke.

Scanning the smooth surface of the table with the tips of his fingers, Ichigo obediently waited for another meeting, taking his seat.

He was going to make the most of their anniversary.

x x x

Blank cerulean eyes stared at him, boring into his head. Now this was not the reaction he was expecting. Ichigo thought the espada would be jumping at the opportunity, literally, he expected Grimmjow to pounce him with glee. And yet—

He was met with a stare as void as Ulquiorra's.

It was so unusual of the male— out of place, this dead stare that almost made Ichigo want to physically grab the words he previously spoke, shoving them back down his throat. The awkward tension only intensified when the redhead scowled. Let's see if he ever asked anything from the idiot again.

Time seemed to carry on, what felt like hours. Ichigo was about to turn on the heels of his feet, plastering his arms at his sides, hands in tight fists.

A feral grin appeared on Grimmjow's lips. Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief.

It was about time he reacted.

"He know yer askin' me this, Ichigo-hime?"

When had he been demoted to princess? Ichigo thought the "queen" title was infuriating, but princess stole the spot at being worse. Maybe it was more accurate— it's not like he was married to Aizen or anything— what the hell was he thinking?! He was not a girl in the first place!

"If you're not gonna use the proper ending, don't even add one," he spat, "and, no, he doesn't know, but he's been begging for it." Ichigo huffed. "Don't tell him either, it's a surprise and I'll kill you if you fuck it up."

"Oh, but I assumed I'd be the one fuckin' you up, Ichigo-"

The redhead flushed, cheeks swirling with a red similar to Renji's hair.

His fist collided into a hard chest, stealing a breath from Grimmjow. Good. Fucker deserved it.

"Trust me, if I had any say in this, I wouldn't be the one getting fucked. You wouldn't be in the room," he grumbled. His eyes lowered to the ground, swirling with dissonance. The two were standing on sand, inside of the endless sparring room— the thing appeared to go on forever. Ichigo caught the Sexta before he ended his regular workout session.

"He really must want this, always knew he was a closet pervert. Tch- worse than Gin."

Ichigo laughed. He looked back up to the espada, gaining an eyeful of his huge grin. "Trust me, after tonight, he'll make Gin look normal."

Grimmjow blinked, snorting loudly, gently swiping under his nose.

"I'm down, Ichigo, if ya wanted an answer. I'll do it," he replied smugly and nodded. "Ya think I'd pass up the chance to fuck you into the next life? Hah, funny."

If Grimmjow was game, Ichigo had his present ready.

x x x

Mmmm, so good, so damn good. His fingers ran through soft brown hair, rousing its slicked-back style to play with the locks. A tongue prodded at his lips, he eagerly parted them, deepening the kiss. His lover swallowed his moans, muffling the enticing sound while Ichigo worked on the front of Aizen's jacket. He pulled the offending cloth down his shoulders and the brunette helped shrug out of it.

Swirling his hot muscle around the one exploring his mouth, Ichigo grinded into the hard length cushioned against his rear. Moan for me. His ears were greeted with a breathy sigh— close enough. The younger male reluctantly pulled back with a soft 'pop' of their lips accompanying the movement.

"Aah, baby, I got something for you," he gasped, voice airy and softer.

"Hmm? You didn't have to, Ichigo," the older shinigami breathed, his wicked hand snaking its wicked way down Ichigo's chest, ghosting over the taut skin of his abdomen, straight to his straining cock. He mercilessly palmed the redhead through his boxers. "Dinner was enough."

The two males had shared a full-course meal for their anniversary. Over dinner, Aizen nonchalantly gave him a tiara-styled headpiece with a crimson red gem that curved inward in order to rest on the middle of his forehead. Ichigo scoffed, he wasn't going to wear that. He still thanked him, sliding the ridiculous headpiece's box off to the side for the remainder of the meal.

"No, no, it wasn't enough. Trust me, you'll love this," the redhead assured gingerly and dragged his finger down the slit of Aizen's shirt, separating the article to get a nice view of the lean torso underneath.

He straightened up, raising his hand in the air and loudly snapped his fingers together. The brunette blinked, wearing a quizzical look and then his brown eyes shifted to the door. The tall doors slowly slid open to reveal a rather pleased Sexta. A shit-eating grin split across his lips to bare his sharp canines.

Ichigo lifted off his lover, feet padded on the floor, heading toward Grimmjow. Standing behind the espada, Ichigo placed his hands on the male's shoulders, leaning forward to press his chest on the espada's back. The sight of Aizen was drop dead sexy- his eyes were molesting them, eyebrows raised a little in awe.

"Be a good present and strip, Grimmjow," the redhead commanded seductively.

"Help," Grimmjow said. The espada tore off his jacket while Ichigo's hands slid in front of him to undo the ties of his hakama. His hardening length exposed, the teen mustered up the courage to wrap his fingers around the thick base. It was hot and heavy in his hand— it wasn't even fully erect yet. He stroked from base to tip, stretching the skin and then snapping it back into place. Grimmjow hissed, hips sharply thrusting forward into the touch. "What I'll bein' doin' to ya soon," he growled.

Ichigo was trying to be cool and confident, but that façade was teetering. He gasped softly, eyes returning to Aizen. The man was smirking, brown orbs glimmering and lust dancing across them.

"Don't mind me, Ichigo, continue," he encouraged, sinking back into the pillows to watch the erotic display.

Was it possible to go back in time and stop Grimmjow from entering? He was so inexperienced that it hurt, his body was only use to Aizen and was becoming extremely nervous with Grimmjow. Inhaling sharply, Ichigo forced his nerves to calm the fuck down, continuing to jerk the espada's full erection.

Grimmjow seemed unfazed by Aizen's presence. He removed himself from Ichigo's grasp and strode to the edge of the bed, plopping his well-sculpted ass on it.

"Stop gawkin' and fuckin' get over here."

The brunette chuckled, amused by the duo. So Ichigo had been caught thoroughly eye fucking the blue-haired beast. It was hard not to, he was built entirely different compared to Aizen. His muscles were defined and visible, not a sliver of fat on him and Ichigo could only assume that if the espada had an abdomen, he'd have washboard abs. It was like a classical Greek artist created this man to match the Adonis figures of the time.

By all means, Aizen was not flabby or soft, but his muscles were not as nearly defined as the Sexta. His body was more lean than muscular. Grimmjow was about to be a new playground for Ichigo to explore. His body was excited as any kid in a park.

Following Grimmjow's lead, Ichigo sat next to him, mattress dipping under their weight. The espada reached down, tugging at his boxers, Ichigo raised his hips allowing the espada to slip the fabric down his long legs, kicking out of the material. Now he was starkly naked as Grimmjow and Aizen was over there sitting on his pretty tush with most of his clothing still on him.

Finally the espada acknowledged the third man in the room. "Oi, Aizen-sama, how ya want me to fuck him first? You are runnin' the show here." Ichigo inwardly shuddered. What a brute.

"Hm- no fucking yet, Grimmjow. The boy likes foreplay, suck each other off," the man instructed casually.

"Ya heard the man," and with that, Ichigo was forced to lie on his side. Grimmjow settled too, rewarding him with a face full of cock. Hard, throbbing cock. Calloused fingers slid over the underside of his own neglected cock causing him to gasp loudly. The brute grunted, shoving his hips in Ichigo's face.

Obeying the sign, Ichigo parted his lips. He breathed over the head of the arousal, encircling the base with his fingers, swiping his hot tongue across the slit. It tasted tangy but erotically mouth-watering, similar to the taste of when you first bite into a freshly ripened strawberry, sour but then sweet.

Grimmjow wasn't holding back. He swallowed around Ichigo, quickly descending to effortlessly suck in half of his length. Shit felt good. Thigh-shuddering, toe-curling good. Ichigo enthralled in the suction, moaned around the head of the espada's cock, his tongue drooling, saliva dripping from the corner of his lips. The espada groaned loudly, his hips twitching at the soft vibrations on his dick.

Ichigo swallowed, trying to ease his gag reflex, bobbing his head further to take in more of Grimmjow's pulsating cock. Down at his crotch, the espada made lewd slurping noises, deliciously sucking up and down his needy length. The teen knitted his eyebrows, forcing his mind to focus on the cock in his mouth, afraid of coming too soon. Talk about buzzkill. He wouldn't let it happen.

Amber eyes widened when they caught the sight of Aizen looming over them. He was observing their naughty play— eyes darkened with carnal desire. Brown locked with brown, Ichigo moaned loudly, sound muffled, staring up at his older lover, wanting the man to imagine how his cock would feel if he was in place of Grimmjow. He milked the length for all it was worth, shallowly swallowing the precum, Grimmjow's hips snapped forward, balls slapping against Ichigo's forehead.

The espada hummed and deep-throated him. His throat choked around Ichigo's length, but he kept himself there, swallowing the teen deeper. Ichigo pulled back, thick cock slipping out of his mouth, releasing a broken moan. The espada started to press his tongue on the underside of his shaft and—fuck—it took all the strength he possessed not to cum in that talented mouth.

"Ah-ah- suck his cock, Ichigo. Grimmjow, prepare him." When had Aizen retrieved the lubricant? Ichigo was too far gone to spare one moment on the thought. Grimmjow released his length with a lewd plop, a disapproving whimper parting from Ichigo's supple lips. The espada was one good mouth-tease.

He threw his arm back, palm opening, awaiting the vial, but instead Aizen spread the wet substance on Grimmjow's fingers, his free hand gripping the espada's wrist to keep it there in case he reflexively pulled it back. His long fingers intermingled with the espada's, thoroughly coating his hand in slick wetness. Grimmjow instantly threw his head back to glare at the devious brunette.

"Ichigo, his cock."

Oh yeah.

He was too busy being entranced by the other men's encounter to think about returning to the dick sucking. Finding his bearings, Ichigo returned to blowing Grimmjow. He heard Grimmjow groan, but the sound became muffled- smacking, wet sounds followed— were they kissing?!— Ichigo desperately wanted to see, but his mouth was being fucked, gag reflex constricting his throat around the pounding length.

A part of him wanted to rip the espada way from his man but a bigger part of him found it… Insanely sexy- the sound of ragged breathing, lips parting from one another so the males could catch their breath, soon diving back into the wet, sinfully loud kissing.

But what happened to preparing him? His ass clenched, throbbing for attention.

He whimpered, using a little teeth to get the point across until finally the espada stopped kissing Aizen and spread his ass cheeks apart. About damn time. Grimmjow launched forward, suckling his entrance with wet lips, pointed tongue aggressively pressing into him. The redhead whined, freeing the dick from his mouth to inhale sharply. Grimmjow stopped, nudged Ichigo up to rest on his hands and knees. The espada laid underneath him and forced Ichigo's hips lower to get better access to his entrance, prodding the pink pucker with his tongue once more.

The redhead flattened, resting on top of the blue-haired beast. His whole body was trembling. He feared not lasting much longer, his dick cried out to him for release. Ichigo desperately wanted that climax. He mewled when familiar hands spread his cheeks apart.

Aizen was spreading him wide for Grimmjow to indulge. The espada thrusted his tongue into his heat alongside a rough finger. Ichigo bit back a cry. He endured the preparation. It felt like an eternity. The espada was three fingers deep, scissoring his tight muscles. Then he was left empty. Nothing. Grimmjow rolled them over, having Ichigo laid on his back.

"I wanna take him, Aizen, how are we doin' this?" He husked— voice raspy.

Aizen tapped on his chin. Ichigo breathed heavily, chest erratically falling up and down, heart pounding. His arousal was Satan— no power could beat that fuck just like this arousal.

"Find me a position where you are fucking Ichigo and I am taking your mouth."

So Aizen was going to go further with Grimmjow… The Sexta was his present. Ichigo hadn't planned for them to touch though, let alone fuck. It was strange. It pulled a few chords in his heart but he had to remember, at the end of the day, Aizen was his. Only his. That thought was reassuring. Aizen would never stray. He was merely enjoying his anniversary present.

"Oh I got the position for ya, man."

Grimmjow instantly threw himself back on the mattress. Ichigo blinked. Aizen stared. The espada laughed, "Ichigo riding my dick, boss man straddling my face."

That worked.

Riding was Ichigo's favorite position. It gave him power, let him set the pace, dominate the fucking even if he was technically being fucked.

Aizen freed himself of his hakama, the article of clothing joining the pile of discarded clothes. Ichigo sat up, feeling dizzy but he managed to straddle the espada's hips. The brunette lifted, spreading his thighs, resting them on the outside of Grimmjow's head, body slouching, one hand gripping the iron frame of the bed and the other slipping into a blue mass of hair. Damn, Aizen looks so fucking sexy from the back.

Reaching back, Ichigo found the hard length. It wasn't a tough task— the cock was cushioned between his ass and Grimmjow's pelvis. Ichigo raised his hips. With one steady breath, he lowered himself on the massive rod, an intense burn sheering inside of him. Fuck. The feeling of being impaled was intoxicating. Especially when the cock was as thick as Grimmjow's— stupid well-endowed espada.

Ichigo heard Aizen's breath hitch, cock swallowed by Grimmjow. Lips teasing the head, eyes locking with the brunette. The redhead would have died to watch but he settled for leaning into Aizen's back, nudging the length of his neck with the tip of his nose, kissing over the soft, unmarked skin. His ears were met with the delicious sounds of Grimmjow sucking, slurping oh so happilly.

Aizen broke the stare, his head tilted back to rest on Ichigo's shoulder. "His cock feel good, baby?"

"F-fuck yeah," Ichigo moaned. His hips rolled, eliciting a throaty groan from Grimmjow, the cock slammed upward to fuck him deeper. "Like his mouth?"

"Yes, he's much more enjoyable with something in it," Aizen teased, kissing the redhead's cheek. The espada grunted loudly with his full mouth. The two on top of him breathlessly chuckling.

Then they fell into a good tempo. Ichigo bounced on the throbbing length- Aizen rocked into the open mouth- Grimmjow thrusted his hips to meet the bouncing and bobbed his head to counter the rocking.

Ichigo dragged his fingers down the long expanse of Aizen's back, wantonly crying out in his ear.

"Grimm— Nngghh- fuck me!" He lost himself in the pounding. His world was flashing with blinding whites. There was no chance for him, none. Grimmjow groaned over the brunette's length and gasped when it pulled away. Aizen moved off the espada, sitting on his knees, stroking his cock furiously with one hand and the other hand fisting Ichigo's neglected length.

That was it.

Gone.

Ichigo was gone. He threw his head back to thunderously scream, hips thrusting up into the warm hand and back against the hot, pulsating thickness. His body was too sensitive, too much stimulation, white hot pleasure taking the wheel of this sex drive. He clawed Grimmjow's thighs and exploded his seed onto Aizen's hand.

Aizen grunted loudly in his ear, meeting his own climax, bursting onto Ichigo's torso. Grimmjow bucked, slamming into Ichigo harder- faster- deeper and met his orgasm, deliciously filling him up with that warm seed.

Ichigo slumped into the espada, erratically panting, eyes closed. He never experienced such an intense fuck. The thought of Aizen watching him be fucked to orgasm was enough to make him cum on spot. Yeah, he was going to black out. The redhead tried to fight it, wanting to kiss Aizen— or even Grimmjow, but he couldn't. The last thing he remembered— before knocking out— was Grimmjow a little too happily thanking Aizen.

x x x

Waking up to two sets of arms around him was strange. He blinked his eyes a couple of times, vision slowly coming into focus. Grimmjow's arms were possessively wrapped around his waist and Aizen had a strong, stern arm across his chest. Why was Grimmjow still there? This wasn't his bedroom, the gift was finished— he could have left.

The espada was snoring— loudly— and Aizen was…

"Sosuke," Ichigo whispered softly. Not wanting to stir the feline. He was sure cuddling into him like a big damn cat.

"Ichigo," the brunette smiled.

"Why's he still here?"

"Our anniversary isn't over yet."

Ichigo blinked. What time was it? Ichigo started the gift around ten or so. The brunette was lying. He was going to milk this anniversary thing dry. Ichigo would not be surprised if the older shinigami started celebrating 'monthiversaries.'

Rolling his tired eyes, Ichigo snuggled into his lover's chest. The action was short-lived since Grimmjow would not let him budge, but luckily the brunette moved closer to return the snuggle.

Wait.

Crap-

"I… I gotta pee."

"Good luck," the brunette chimed.

I'll be continuing this. I feel you AizenxIchigo shippers and the lack of stories lately! I know that pain too well and also, I've put so much back-story into it that I cannot help but take a further dive in it.

I sort of have a plot for this. We'll see what happens. Let me know if you'd like to see something in the next update. :-)