Summary: He's never had a crush before, and the twinge in his heart is an entirely foreign emotion, but he can guess easily enough, and he scowls into the ground as his face goes hot. Who ever heard of falling in love with the man who nearly sliced you in half like a cut of meat?
Pairing: Kurosaki Ichigo x Aizen Sosuke
Rating: M
Music: N/A
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
A/N: Warnings—LANGUAGE. LANGUAGE GALORE. There's also a kind of blurred-out, shameless sex scene sandwiched somewhere in there, so tread carefully.
"Aren't you bitter?"
This immediately throws Ichigo completely off-kilter, because isn't the man standing before him supposed to be the bad guy? He's the madman that sent Soul Society into a frenzy, who slaughtered forty-six law-abiding men and women, who tried to execute Rukia and, for all it's worth to Ichigo, turned two captains against the society that will from here on out surely be after their blood. But the expression mingling on the cold stone of Aizen Sôsuke's chiseled face is anything but mad; in stark contrast, his eyes are the deep mahogany brown of a bare tree's bark during a harsh winter, standing out against a bland backdrop and anything but unnoticeable. They are kind, and hold a bottomless abyss within.
Ichigo, like a fool, falls right into them.
He always thought that only happened in cliché love stories, the kind Yuzu reads and cries over after. But here, in this situation, lying on an unyielding cliff with blood pouring from his stomach, at the helpless mercy of a lunatic whose power is to hypnotize people into seeing something else, Ichigo almost laughs aloud at the flutter in his chest.
He's never had a crush before, and the twinge in his heart is an entirely foreign emotion, but he can guess easily enough, and he scowls into the ground as his face goes hot. Who ever heard of falling in love with the man who nearly sliced you in half like a cut of meat?
He recalls the question, and he studies Aizen's face, searching for any hint of artifice. Aizen's expression is all sincere, though, and expectant, so he struggles to find a good answer when dozens surge to the forefront of his brain.
"...No," he says finally, truthfully, and Aizen levels a look at Ichigo that is close to a quizzical one, as he tilts his head, trying to figure Ichigo out. It makes sense, Ichigo muses, his thoughts addled by blood loss. His emotions and memories and everything is flowing together into one big River Styx, and he's losing his grip on reality. He's an enigma in himself, something that doesn't exactly make a big fucking lot of sense, and Aizen, who is a logical man, is trying to figure him out.
Suddenly, the man kneels, and he reaches out, perfect, immaculate fingers brushing against Ichigo's sharply angled cheek, and Ichigo freezes, his breath catching in his throat. Is this what it's like to be touched by someone you just out-of-the-blue fall for?
Because it's like being electrified. Shocking, dazzling, and surprisingly numbing.
"Meet me in the Yûgure no Mori when you are well again," he whispers, and then moves away, standing ramrod straight once more as huge pillars of blinding golden light encase him and his two companions, and time seems to seep past Ichigo again.
"Ichigo!" Cries Rukia, and Ichigo's knuckles are white and digging into the rocky ground as he stares up, wide-eyed, at the Negación shaft carrying Aizen further away from his shaking grasp.
His head drops to the ground, his vision flickering to Chad and Orihime and Uryû running towards him, screaming his name, as darkness mars the corners of his sight.
That is the day Ichigo surreptitiously corrects, in his mind, not Aizen.
Sôsuke.
It is three days after the Sôkyoku fiasco. Ichigo creeps from his room one night and escapes into the forest nearby.
He's not entirely certain, but after waiting for a moment, he's positive this is the Yûgure no Mori that Sôsuke was talking about. The dim light of the moon illuminates the forest a violet-magenta-scarlet mist, thick and mysterious and enchanting.
Just like Sôsuke.
Perhaps that's why he chose the place. Everything about the wood speaks of a façade, and Ichigo's suspicion is confirmed when he nearly walks into a twisting tree, boughs weighed with sakuras, that has been ravaged by long claw marks that reek of Hollow. He treads more carefully after that, until he reaches an empty clearing full of anemone flowers, lighting the clearing with the lovely coral shades of pink to deep violet, and filled with silver.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Ichigo whirls around, caught off guard, but he sees who spoke and he forces himself to relax. He's going to have to get used to meeting in secret with the villain.
"S—Aizen," he amends, and to avoid Sôsuke's eyes, he promptly kneels down among the blossoms to observe one, hoping the lucent haze covers his embarassed blush.
The arms wrapping around his waist is a complete surprise, and Ichigo prides himself on withholding his high-pitched squeak as Sôsuke leans over, his breath at Ichigo's ear. "You're an odd boy, Kurosaki Ichigo."
"N-not a ryoka?" Stutters Ichigo, trying his best to keep his words clean-cut instead of just butchering it all like he might do if Sôsuke keeps smiling at him like that!
"Hmm," says Sôsuke, and tilts his head at the flushed teenage Substitute Soul Reaper without a care in the world. "You're a beauty."
Ichigo's breath catches in his throat and the daylily-haired teen almost chokes. Beauty?
"Talk to Yumichika," he mutters, and Sôsuke's lips twitch.
"All the same, ryoka boy," teases Sôsuke, and Ichigo can feel the gooseflesh crawling up his arms, "I daresay you're a crowning jewel."
"What the hell am I doing?" Ichigo says aloud, then palms himself in the face mentally for doing so. "Shit, that came out wrong. Sorry, sorry." He scowls at the innocent flowers before him because fuck, shit, I've never done this before, anything remotely related to flirting in my experience is intentional flashing by a God-gifted cat-woman who's probably older than dirt!
Sôsuke breaks into a small smile, amused. "I'm a traitor, ryoka boy. It's to be expected your questioning your choices."
"Don't call me ryoka boy." The words are out before he can stop them, and he punches himself in the face mentally this time. "That's so... callous."
Sôsuke huffs out a laugh, fingers brushing Ichigo's chest, and Ichigo thinks he might stop breathing or that his heart will burst out of the cage known as his chest any minute. Really, what the hell is he doing? Fraternizing with the enemy just because of a spur-of-the-moment-crush—
You know what, fuck it. He's not one of the Gotei Thirteen, he's not one of Yamamoto's precious little toy soldiers, he's Ichigo, and people can go to hell if they think he operates with a battlefield "kill or be killed" mindset.
"Kurosaki-kun, then," Sôsuke amends, smiling more broadly now at Ichigo. The world seems to get just a little brighter, which, in this glowing forest, means something. He repeats, "I daresay you're a crowning jewel."
His grip around Ichigo's waist tightens for a moment—just a moment—coupled with Sôsuke's kind, addicting smile. "But you're my crowning jewel, now."
They stay like that, for a moment. It's quiet, and peaceful, and the two are content just to be there, instead of doing something, like discussing this entirely new turnout of events.
After about five minutes, that's exactly what Ichigo does.
"So, are we a thing? Like, an item?" The look Sôsuke gives Ichigo is half bemusement and half raised eyebrows, and Ichigo laughs, breathily, a wispy sound he's never made before. The power Sôsuke has over Ichigo. "Y'know, a couple."
Sôsuke looks momentarily surprised. "A couple?" He ponders this for a moment, then tucks his shoulders in and presses a feather-light kiss to Ichigo's temple. "Why, yes. I suppose we are."
The first time, it's a fireworks display in Ichigo's bedroom.
Or at least, that's how it feels to Ichigo. He's not entirely sure how Sôsuke perceives it.
Karin and Yuzu are at a friend's house, and their father and Ichigo are about as much company to each other as carpeting, so after about two seconds Isshin disappears, probably to Old Man Ryûken's place, to crash for the night.
Ichigo's reading a magazine on his bed when the man suddenly appears, and before Ichigo even has time to comprehend his abrupt appearance, Sôsuke's kissing him, hard, and Ichigo's pretty much been K.O-ed in one hit. Literally, he's seeing stars. Or maybe that's just Sôsuke's tongue twisting with his.
Damn, and he thought he would have the greater libido. Ah well, age doesn't decide everything.
In a spectacular feat of mentality, Ichigo manages to reach across his desk—even while Sôsuke's hands are skimming over his sides—to swat the light off, and from there, it goes to a free-for-all, as first Sôsuke, right hand at Ichigo's thigh and the other at his hip, gets to the top, tugging experimentally at Ichigo's t-shirt to test its elasticity and to see just how fast he can get it off, then Ichigo, dragging Sôsuke's face to his, switches them quickly and deftly, with the air of having done so before, even though he's only attempted such a thing when fighting off thugs.
It's an ages-old, primal battle for dominance, and ultimately, Sôsuke, the one with more experience, ends up on top of Ichigo, but for all that the skirmish was long, it was purposely that way, luxurious and relaxed and yet captivating all the same. Funnily enough, both are still pretty much fully clothed, though Ichigo's earlier t-shirt was cast away, leaving him in his white no-sleeve top—it's probably halfway across the room—and Sôsuke's obi will probably need some serious searching later. But right now, their performance is making its steady climb towards its climax as Sôsuke, with noticeably faster movements, flings Ichigo's top and shorts off to the side, and Ichigo strips away the layers of Sôsuke's clothing, cursing at how much there is.
Now sufficiently aroused and sufficiently naked, they're wrapped around each other, Ichigo's legs around Sôsuke's waist and the former shuddering the latter's name. It all cumulates to a lovely fever pitch as Sôsuke moves with a slow but powerful roll and Ichigo's cries grow louder, in a slow but sure crescendo of Sôsuke's name.
They lay together, tangled, panting, for a couple of minutes. Then Sôsuke says almost conversationally, "You're rather experienced."
Ichigo rolls his eyes, jerks a thumb at himself. "Sôsuke. Virgin. Remember? It was literally, like, a minute ago."
Sôsuke shrugs, unabashed. "Very well. Call it innate talent. And besides..." The grin on his face is razor-sharp and beautiful, and Ichigo is instantly enraptured by it. "It's a shame to let that kind of talent go to waste, right?"
Ichigo groans. "Another round?"
"Another round."
"Okay, hold that thought. I want some water and a five-minute rest break."
They're standing forehead to forehead in a ravaged battlefield.
"I'm not doing this," Ichigo whispers. It was a blind, happy love until Ichigo realized he was the ultimate trump card and Sôsuke the ultimate enemy, and that the Gotei Thirteen had set him up to kill Sôsuke.
"Shit, shit, shit, I can't do this," he says, his zanpaku-tô hand shaking violently. Sôsuke's eyes are full of sad, quiet empathy, and he slowly guides the point of Zangetsu to his own throat. Ichigo's eyes widen.
"Sôsuke... Don't do it. Don't you fucking dare, Sôsuke!"
Sôsuke's little smile—the one Ichigo's seen under a starry night, in a field filled with flowers, in a certain lucent wood with Sôsuke's name on his lips—is present as he says, "This was the endgame. I'm sorry, Ichigo, that it had to be this way."
Just a single second before Sôsuke hardens his resolve and jerks the blade to his jugular, Ichigo's lips thin in defiance.
"Then I'm going with you."
The explosion of reiatsu causes complete demolition for miles around. When the Soul Reapers finally work up the nerve to get a glimpse of the battlefield, their eyes widen.
Because two unscathed bodies are in the middle of the anihilation, despite clearly being corpses. Their hands are entwined, and their lips brush.
"Oh, Ichigo," whispers Rukia when she sees. Her wide violet eyes are suffused with tears, and she stares down at the bodies at her feet.
"Why did you make it so complicated for yourself?"