Headlock

Starrk x Gin

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Starrk stalked unpleasantly down the empty hallways of Las Noches in search of a suitable place to nap. Unfortunately for him, Lilynette had kicked him out of his own room, saying that he was, quote, "too much of a lazy-ass" and that he didn't "deserve to sleep in a proper bed" so he should "go find something else to do or sleep somewhere else".

So, Starrk had done just that without much of a fight. He didn't like confrontation much anyway. It was too much trouble and wasted his energy.

So, Starrk was left to wander Las Noches's bland, empty hallways. You could never find the same room twice in Las Noches (unless you counted their "living quarters") because the layout was constantly subject to change. Starrk couldn't explain it and he couldn't be bothered to understand it anyway.

Due to this unfortunate fact, though, Starrk always had to find a different place to nap.

So, today was no different.

Well, no, today was different.

As he approached a room he was about to enter, he swore that he heard moaning and groaning. The voices were familiar. But, no, he couldn't believe that it was them. They couldn't be doing that... could they?

Well, despite the likelihood being high, Starrk had a hard time believing it was true.

Forgoing any cautiousness he should have had, he peered into the room – the door had been left ajar.

What he saw nearly caused me to give a startled shout, but he kept his mouth shut. His eyes were fixated though.

Aizen and Gin were inside the room and they were... well, there were no lighter terms – they were having sex.

Starrk was sure.

He shuddered violently.

He had no need to picture it in his mind because it was being played out before him. His eyes could not blink and his body could not be moved from that spot – he felt paralyzed. Oddly enough, it wasn't fear. The emotion, however, he could not place his finger on.

He didn't put a fight though because Starrk wasn't the sort of person to put up a fight.

However, it soon turned to fear. In an instant, Gin's eyes were on him – blue, green, and unimaginably terrifying.

Starrk froze – stiller then than he had been before.

Unsurprisingly though, a smirk formed on Gin's lips – it was distressingly playful.

Starrk continued to stare.

Gin ground his hips a little and, immediately, Starrk understood the root of the smirk.

Gin was playing with him.

This was ridiculous, Starrk knew, because Gin was a master of seduction – if Aizen was twisted around his pinky, surely he had to be.

Every little movement though, as Starrk was now taking in the details, was driving him crazy. His mouth went dry and his eyes watered – if only a little bit.

Gin could see – Starrk knew without a single doubt.

The slyness in Gin's grin seemed to only elevate. He trailed his long slender fingers down his thighs and arched his back a little.

Starrk licked his dry lips to wet them, hoping that it would help.

But, before he could feel it, a heavy reiatsu was upon him. His knees folded unceremoniously and he was soon kneeling by the door.

At this angle, he was forced to look up at Gin.

For a moment, he considered the irony of the situation – he felt like a dog.

Unexpectedly, Gin blew a flamboyant kiss towards the door. The gesture was not missed. Aizen's eyes were soon at the crack at the door. He beckoned to Starrk, questioning him as to whether or not he wished to join them.

The sarcasm was evident though but Starrk could hardly shake his head to refuse.

Beads of sweat fell down his face. The pressure was ridiculous.

Momentarily, though, Starrk came to regret that thought because, soon after, Aizen's reiatsu joined Gin's own in compressing Starrk's spirit.

It felt like the weight of two worlds were upon him.

His arms and legs trembled, threatening to collapse. Starrk knew that they wouldn't give out just yet though so he remained indifferent.

As if refusing to do Starrk's current position any mercy, Aizen's ministrations with Gin's body became freer, refusing to hold anything back. He made every effort to make sure that Starrk could see every inch of Gin's body – or so it seemed.

Starrk let out a forced moan of his own.

Aizen and Gin were exceptionally cruel – the pressure, though it was forcibly suppressing it, did nothing to help his arousal that was slowly growing more and more torturous with every languid stroke and movement of the both of their bodies.

Even Aizen was smiling, Starrk acknowledged.

But, enough was enough – their combined reiatsu was far too much for his body to handle. He began to release his own reiatsu in order to counterbalance the force.

It wasn't much but it did help and the quaking in his limbs ceased.

He gave a soft sigh of relief.

In his own sort of ritual, he closed off his mind – refusing to see the images before him. He simply blacked out.

---

In enough time, Gin and Aizen were finished and Starrk was released.

However, it seemed that Starrk had fallen asleep by their door.

With a quiet snicker, Gin murmured to Aizen, "This was fun. Let's do this again sometime."

Aizen only gave a low chuckle in response and the two walked away.

Slowly, Starrk cracked open an eye.

He swore that, next time, he was definitely going to kick Lilynette out of his bed so that he could sleep. There was no way that this was happening again.

As an afterthought, he added that, fuck, he was still hard.

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Author's Notes: This is my sense of humour. It isn't very funny, I know. (This is why I have no social life.) Regardless, I think it's actually pretty stupid that I just forgot about the contest altogether. I hope this is still acceptable. (The Olympics were ludicrously distracting – sorry, I'm Canadian. It was on a home turf so I couldn't help but watch. Plus, my friend was running with the torch on the way to the stadium so it only served to make it more personally exciting.) I would also like to point out that this would've been up on Monday had it not been that I had a school trip from Monday to Wednesday. I would just like to apologize. (By the way, has anyone else noticed what an AiGin fanatic I am?)

I was listening to Headlock by Imogen Heap while writing the latter half so... that explains the title. (Sorry, I'm just not creative.)