His dreams were black as night, without movement or sound. He slept heavily, sprawled across the bed with one arm indolently having another's head laid upon it, blue hair splayed across his calloused skin and the pillow underneath it.
When he awoke, it was from a profound slumber, and though his head hardly ached, the bulk of his eyes whispered that he'd drank a great deal the night before.
He grunted and the blurriness of the dimly lit room around him seemed to grow gradually into focus as he turned his head to look at the body lying on his arm. The sheets hardly covered Zaraki, spread over his legs only in particular spots and his entire upper body had been lying openly. His other arm hung lazily off the bed.
Another questioning groan escaped his lips as he shifted in the bed enough for the other figure to do so as well, turning towards him, a thin but tanned arm landing almost without a feel over his toned abdomen.
It took a moment of silent staring to realize that the frail, fragile seeming man lying next to him was a man, and was not someone that he hadn't known the name of from a random pub. Zaraki was definitely not popular for bringing other's to bed, but more so for getting drunk and practically begging for bloodshed and if not that, just talking on and on about how fighting was great.
"Kurotsuchi." He mumbled, lifting the arm that the scientist's head was not lying on and touching with ghostly fingertips a couple of strands of blue.
Zaraki was sure their night had been rough, that he'd taken the scientist against the wall of one room and the table in another, door frames and counters until they'd finally made it to the bed. Although seemingly frail, the scientist held an amazing amount of stamina within his small body and Zaraki obviously had no troubles with keeping on.
A few flashbacks had brought him to the knowing those visualizations were not imagination but reality, and that the scorching scrapes on his back that he could feel now and the slight stinging of bite marks on his neck were authentic. He found a smirk touched his lips, nearly a grin as it crookedly showed a bit of his jagged canines.
A minute mutter escaped the lips of the other but it was indecipherable. Zaraki paid it no attention, however, and his hand dropped back by his side again, his eyes finding the dull ceiling. He remembered now how they'd found their way to the bed, begging and prying for more.
Another mumble and Mayuri rolled away from him, towards the opposite wall, but his back had been scooted closer to the side of Kenpachi. Remembering it all now, it seemed sort of bittersweet. They'd wanted it, begged for it, scratched and bit for it and had been rough with one another but when they'd finished, they'd fallen side by side, Kenpachi grinning and Mayuri attempting a beating that his then weak hands could not even manage. They'd both been heavily breathing, in and out, but none of them spoke. None of them left.
They laid together, as odd as it seemed, and fell into slumber.
"Heh."
Bitter sweet, he supposed, was the word for it.