Gin Ichimaru was lying asleep in Las Noches, in a large sparsely yet richly and tastefully decorated white room. This was the room of Sosuke Aizen—the god of the dark sun-less world of the hollows. The bed upon which Ichimaru was laid was enormous, white, western styled, and splattered with dried blood and come. He slept peacefully; his usually painfully wide grin had slipped to a restful neutral expression. His silver hair was blowing slightly in the draft coming from an open door that led to the balcony.
Sosuke Aizen was on the other side of that open door. He was leaning against the ornately carved white stone railing, looking out upon the world that was his. The sweeping cold starkness of his city the soft forever changing waves of the desert sand, and the huge crescent moon that hung low in the vast dark sky illuminating it all with a ghostly white glow.
He shook his head, clearing his vision of the stray lock of wavy brown hair. This world that he had re-created was a work of art, but merely a third of a masterpiece. Once Aizen had conquered the Soul Society, and the human world he would mold them to suit his purposes. Then he would rule over his massive work of art as the ultimate god. Gin would be at his right hand, Tousen would be at his left—proving his value of loyalty and power.
Sosuke Aizen slowly turned around seeing into his bedroom. Gins was burrowed into the soiled covers—pale enough to blend into the sheets—had he not been spotted with bruises and cuts from the nights activities. He slowly and quietly walked over to the man with whom he most wanted to share his masterpiece. With gentle hands he caressed the sleeping man's face, from the wide mouth—which had frightened many but Aizen thought more beautiful than any of his own creations—to the soft wispy silver hair, stroking the fine locks. In the moonlight they looked like spun silver.
Gin twitched his eyelids fluttering but remaining mostly closed in a tight squint, his mouth curved into a soft smile as he nuzzled his head into Aizen's hand. "'M all sticky" he muttered cheerfully, successfully ruining the peaceful mood that had descended upon them. Gin slowly sat up and stretched—wincing as he discovered quite how sore he was. He started as Aizen quickly slid his arms under his knees and shoulders then lifted him naked from the bed. Aizen carried him bride style to the bathroom, where he placed him gently onto the rim of the large white stone tub. It was cold. Gin watched playfully as his lord turned on the faucets, and set the plug. As the tub filled Gin reached for the bottle of bubbles that he had left in the bathroom since his and Aizen's last 'bath'. He leaned—hands just brushing the bottle as he overbalanced and fell once again into the arms of his lover. The smile that had fallen from gin's face in surprise and the pain of the sudden movement was replaced twice fold as he watched his former captain laugh at him quietly.
"I am in control Gin." He stated—his smile still in place, but his eyes held seriousness that was not to be tested.
"Yes Capt'n Aizen!" Gin replied as Aizen gently placed him into the warm water, and then roughly shoved Gin's head beneath the surface. He calmly and deliberately counted to three, three times, and then released his fox-faced former-lieutenant-turned-lover
Gin resurfaced coughing and spluttering but laughing as well "Yer in control!" he gasped with a grin, then relaxed as the hands became gentle again, and began to slowly wash the blood and come from his bruised white flesh.
Sosuke Aizen would be the ultimate god, with Gin Ichimaru at his right hand.