So…..I'm a huge fan of the ship Hisagi x Kensei's hollow….heres the problem. I CAN'T FIND A SINGLE FANFIC ABOUT THEM!

So I decided to write my own even though Kensei's hollow will probably a little OOC. I named him Shirosei…kind of like Ichigo's hollow Shirosaki. Many people won't read this…since it's not really a ship think about, but I just had to write this! So if you did like it, please let me know! I might write the last, second chapter then!

DON'T FORGET! SHIROSEI IS KENSEI'S HOLLOW.

Shirosei remembers clenching his fists at his sides to hold himself still. "Ya don't know what yer offering."

He had never wanted to fall for the weakling that his master had fallen for. But…here and now…he was pretty much begging the kid to just drop his pants and let him fuck him.

He just couldn't force the kid though. Maybe it was because Kensei had affected him, or just his human like feelings…but he couldn't rape the kid.

"I've got a pretty good idea," Shuuhei said in return. His expression was intense, but Shirosei was helpless to interpret it until Shuuhei reached up, cradled his Captain's hollow's face in both hands like it was something precious and rare, and kissed him.

He felt so weak when the soul reaper touched him like that.

Like he cared for a HOLLOW.

Gently, and without heat. "Shirosei. You need this."

His lips were cool. His hands were cool, strong and cool, so blessedly cool that Shirosei wanted to dive into him and stay there until this wretched heat had been leached away.

"Shu," he whispered in his watery voice (just like Shirosaki's)-just that, nothing more. A low, desperate plea, and he did not even know if he was begging Shuuhei to go, to go now while he still could, or to stay forever.

Both,perhaps.

Hisagi did not leave. Shuuhei dropped his hands from Shirosei's face, engendering a moment of dizzying panic in the hollow, but he was only dropping them to Shirosei's waist, to push up under his shirt until he found bare, pale skin.

Shirosei was conscious of a gasping breath, and then he was moving without conscious decision or thought. His hands on Shuuhei's shoulders, tight enough to bruise; pushing Hisagi back against the bulkhead with his own superior strength. Shuuhei's startled face, eyes wide open, lips parted before Shirosei bent to taste them. No dry, sexless kiss this time; this was hot, open-mouthed, the taste and the feel of him…unimaginable.

As Hisagi opened himself to Shirosei's ruthless assault, his hands gripping tighter, as though determined to prove the truth of his offer.

His Captain's hollow needed this.

Who was he to deny such a need?

When he finally pulled away,the black-haired male was looking up at him, breathless and flushed. Shirosei thought that he had never seen anything so compelling. "Let me," he breathed, hands gripping Shuuhei's shirt, crumpling fabric. "Let me-"

"Go ahead."

The thin fabric parted easily in his hands. Shuuhei let out a surprised little breath of laughter as Shirosei threw aside the torn scraps. "Not quite what I meant, Shirosei."

The sound of his name on Shuuhei's lips made Shirosei shudder, but there was a distant little prickle of shame at the words.

The lieutedant shouldn't be muttering his recently given name. No…he should be saying the name of his other half.

His better half.

At his utter lack of control; he could not change it, but-

And Shuuhei must have sensed that, somehow, because his expression softened. "I didn't mean it like that," he said. "C'mere."

"I cannot-" Language, and sense, seemed very far away just then, but it was important that he explain, that he give the younger male a last chance.

"I'm a hollow….I can't be gentle."

Shuuhei's expression held no fear, only warmth. He nodded. "I understand, Shirosei . It's all right. Kensei already explained."

It was not, it was manifestly not 'all right', but Shirosei had reached the limits of his fraying control. His own shirt met the same fate as Shuuhei's in short order, and then they were pressed together, bare-skinned to the waist, Shirosei's fingers digging into Hisagi's cool skin with bruising force. Shuuhei's hands slipped between them, his nimble fingers making short work of the fastenings on first his own pants, then Shirosei's. He shoved them down and kicked off his boots-Shirosei himself was already barefoot-and then they were both nude.

Shirosei kissed him and kissed him-on some level, he was aware that he was being too forceful, that he was pressing too hard, that his master's lover's fragile soul reaper body could not withstand his full strength without injury, but it did not seem to matter to his hands, which scrabbled at Shuuhei's bare skin until it was scored and bruised, or his mouth, which attacked Shuuhei's thin throat, the curve of his neck, his shoulder with such force that he almost broke the skin.

Shuuhei did not protest or attempt to push him away. On the contrary; he was breathing Shirosei's name, over and over again, rutting lightly against him; he was erect, as was Shirosei, and when their members brushed against each other he cursed in a low, vehement voice.

It was good, so good, but it was not enough.

Shirosei pulled away abruptly, and his hands seemed to know what his mind did not; he spun Shuuhei around and slammed him against the bulkhead; Shuuhei's cheek connected forcefully with the metal wall, his hands going out to brace himself.

This was good; this was better. From this angle, he could penetrate the kid and that would be-

"Shirosei." Shuuhei's husky voice; impossible to ignore, even in this state.

"In my pocket. Right-hand side. It'll make things easier."

Shuuhei's pants were in a pile on the floor, and every inch of Shirosei screamed at the seconds it took to locate and untangle them. There, in the right-hand pocket: a small bottle of personal lubricant. That would indeed make things easier.

How could he completely forget such a thing?

His fingers felt clumsy, but he got the lid open with his black fingernails well enough. The liquid that spilled onto his fingers was ice cool, and had a pleasing texture; divining its purpose, he applied it to himself, slid his slick fingers up the cleft of Shuuhei's ass and pressed inside.

Shuuhei swore again, letting his head fall forward against the bulkhead, but Shirosei could barely hear him. Shuuhei was not cool around his fingers; he was hot, as hot as his looks, as hot as the fires that were consuming Shirosei deep inside; hot enough, perhaps, to quench him.

He pulled his fingers out. It was not enough, he was distantly aware. It was not enough, there should be more preparation, more gentleness for this at least-but being a hollow he quickly forgot about it and shrugged it off.

His body seemed to move of its own accord. His hand on Shuuhei's hip, the other on his own shaft, guiding it into Shuuhei, breaching him-

It was unbearably slow, and the sensation was utterly overwhelming. His hips pushed forward of their own volition, and abruptly he was buried to the hilt in Shuuhei's body.

Shuuhei let out a low, drawled out broken noise. Against the wall, his hands clenched into fists.

Shirosei felt a strange cold wash over him, as though a bucket of ice water had been applied to his skin. "Shu," he said. His blue tongue felt thick in his mouth, his heartbeat rapid, his thoughts slow.

Shuuhei let out a slow breath, then said shakily, "It's all right."

He unclenched his fist and wrapped his fingers around one of Shirosei's hands, brought it down to his groin; his erection was flagging, but still present. Shuuhei sighed again when he felt the hollow's touch, a better sound this time. "Shirosei, it's..ah!, it's all right. Keep going."

Well….if the kid said so…he would without stopping.

Shirosei kept going. He endeavored to match the rhythm of his hand on Shuuhei to that of his hips, and he must have been successful, from the sounds that escaped Shuuhei's mouth. For himself, he felt as though he was very far away, the fire in his body building to a fever pitch, bright sparks exploding in his field of vision; he was barely cognizant of Shuuhei gasping his name as he reached completion. His own orgasm rolled over him seconds later, and for some indefinable period of time he knew no more.

Author's note: I am thinking of writing a second chapter since I kind of endedit abruptly.