The King Is Half Undressed – Hichi/Ichi
So this is where he stands at night, on this cold avenue of lights...
Ichigo Kurosaki knew the moon was full tonight, and that there was a cool autumn breeze blowing through Karakura Town. He knew that Orihime was eating something strange before settling into bed, and Uryu had his nose buried in a book. He knew Rangiku was taking a bath; Ikkaku was fighting off Keigo's sister; Yumichika was brushing his hair; and Toshiro was sitting on Orihime's roof, staring at the moon. And mostly, he knew that there was nothing threatening the people he cared about in any way... not tonight, anyway.
Of course, the only reason he knew this was that his intuition was telling him so.
the reds and greens, but mostly reds,
The orange haired substitute Shinigami didn't get the privilege of lying in his bed, being a normal teenaged boy, but instead was lying on the hard sand of Urahara's training ground, pain coursing through his body from pushing himself just a bit too hard. He stared up at the day lit sky, the blood dripping into his eyes tinting everything in his line of sight a violent crimson.
No, just because his little town was peaceful didn't mean he got the night off.
"Is that all you've got, Ichigo?" his red-headed sparring partner called to him cockily. And even though he wasn't in much better shape, a smile graced his lips. Ichigo knitted his brows together and scowled; he may have been having a difficult time getting back on his feet, but he'd manage... eventually. "Come on, I thought I'd have at least a bit of a challenge tonight!"
"Shut up, Renji!" he growled, trying to push him self off the ground, to no avail. "You haven't won yet!"
for you he's stopping.
"Actually, I think both of you boys have had enough for now" Kisuke appeared, seemingly out of no where, waving his fan in front of his face. "You should rest up a while." And, as much as Ichigo hated to admit defeat, inside he felt relieved, and welcomed the opportunity to get a nap in.
"Aw, come on Mr. Hat-and-Clogs. We were just getting started," the substitute Shinigami joked weakly, making another futile attempt to get to his feet. Upon failing, he sighed in an exasperated way, and decided it best to remain on the warm ground.
He had only closed his eyes for a moment before his exhaustion overtook him, and he had fallen into a light slumber. But it wasn't just the usual blackness that swept over him;
"Hello, King," a maniacal voice filled his ears.
In seeing him, he knows him less.
Ichigo groaned, trying to muster the strength to open his eyes, and greet his new surroundings. He knew that once his lids lifted, he'd find himself defying gravity, lying against the vertical side of a building, and a snowy white version of himself would be staring at him from across the way, black lined citrine eyes burning into his soul. The idea of facing his inner world right now just tired him further.
With eyes shut even more tightly, he lifted a hand and ran it through the spiky orange mess atop his head with far more ease than he would be having in the waking world right now. As much as he didn't want to be here, he supposed he shouldn't complain; his injuries weren't painful here, and moving wasn't a power struggle between his mind and muscles.
Begrudgingly, he pushed himself into a sitting position, and cautiously opened his eyes, daring to look around a bit. Things were just as they always were here; sky scrapers peppered the horizon, and lined the deserted streets below in perfect geometric order. As per usual, the laws of physics were taking a vacation, and though wind appeared to blow, just an eerie silence filled his ears. There were no sounds but his breathing... And the breathing of his Hollow self, who was crouching at his feet, grinning like the mad man he was.
Ichigo`s frown softened, though it was hardly noticeable, and his aggravation dissipated a bit, as it so often did at the sight of that spiky white haired monster. But, as was his style, he acted displeased.
"Why'd you bring me here, Hollow?"
His stick is wet, he's half undressed
"Your sword is bloody, aibou," the Hollow smiled, avoiding the question he'd been asked. Brown eyes rolled, and a sigh left a set of rosy lips.
"What's your point?" Ichigo asked pointedly, wondering absently why he bothered asking his counterpart questions in the first place... he could not recall a time he'd gotten a straight answer from him.
"Did you enjoy your fight? Because it clearly enjoyed you," the pale man laughed, eyes turning to slits, all the while staring at Ichigo, hint of something unreadable in his face. Ichigo cocked his head, confused – which was not abnormal when dealing with his alternate self.
"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, shaking his head.
"Why am I playing horse to a King that's so dense? That fight went and tore half your clothes off!" the Hollow motioned for him to look at himself. Ichigo's eyes widened and a blush spread across his cheeks as he noticed the only thing covering his body was his shredded hakama.
and, all in all, they're both obsessed with so much nothing.
"What the hell? You should have told me sooner, you pervert!" the Shinigami yelled, masking his embarrassment with anger. But why was he embarrassed? He ended up like this all the time in battle... A lot of people – and Soul Reapers alike – had seen him dressed similarly. So why did it matter so much to him that his paper-white twin was seeing him as such?
"What are you worried about? We share a body; it's nothing I haven't seen before," the Hollow winked, sending chills down Ichigo's spine. "You know aibou" he whispered, crawling over his King. "I know you think about me a lot more than you're willing to let on..." the ginger haired boy tensed as the Hollow straddled his thighs. "more than just thoughts about how to... keep me at bay."
"Wh...What are you talking ab –"
"Don't think I don't know what goes on in that head of yours, King" the Hollow whispered, bringing their faces close together, mere inches separating them.
I know it's hard for you to see what lies behind a mystery
Ichigo's breath began to catch in his throat, and a sheen of sweat covered his forehead. The white being and him had never been so close outside of battle before, and with this proximity he could make out all the details in his snowy face; those golden irises were flecked with auburn, and appeared to go on forever; his skin looked smooth to the touch, and Ichigo imagined it would feel like velvet beneath his fingers; and mostly, he noticed that his smile wasn't just manifested by madness, but actually appeared to be happy.
The orange haired twin huffed, not liking the thoughts he was thinking. But it was nearly impossible to think of anything else when his Hollow was this near to him. He could feel his breath on his face, and his nerves tingled as the warm air brushed his skin. This closeness was unusual, but pleasant. He wanted to run away, but the idea of moving from beneath his yellow eyed counterpart seemed worse than death itself. It was killing him, but he'd never felt more excited... He could feel his blood start to rush, and flow straight to his cock.
If words could speak, they'd mean even less
"You like me, Ichigo," the Hollow's voice was nothing more than a breathy giggle. "Don't try to deny it. I'll just know you're lying." He emphasized his last word by grinding his hips down on the King's, causing a moan to escape his throat. White hands slid into orange hair and, still grinning, the Hollow pressed his pale mouth forcefully against Ichigo's, brushing his tongue along the latter's lips, requesting entrance... which he quickly granted. Pink and blue tongues fought each other for dominance for some time before Ichigo surrendered, and allowed his pale companion to explore the inside of the orifice.
Black nailed fingers slid over a tanned, slender neck, down past a muscular chest, and slipped beneath the waist of Ichigo's hakama, wrapping themselves tightly around his hard-on, and stroking gently. The Hollow laughed against their kiss as the substitute Shinigami stifled a moan. Briefly, he pulled away.
"It's just like masturbation, King"
when the king is half undressed.
"Shut up, Hollow" the King growled, pulling their lips together once more. The Hollow pushed Ichigo down so he lay against the building's side once more, and pressed their bodies together, kissing down the front of his body, tracing the lines of his muscles with that blue tongue. The orange haired boy's breathing was shallow and needy as he watched the spectacle before him, sliding a peachy hand into spiky white hair. As his pale mouth reached the top of the hakama's waist band, he pulled away and gazed playfully up at Ichigo, eyes laughing wildly as they watched his expression turn to pleading.
"Tell me what ya' want, aibou" he whispered, stroking his counterpart's erection through his pants. Ichigo tried to give him a displeased look, but failed to do so as his Hollow's touch sent chills through his body.
"I want... more." The words tumbled from his tongue clumsily. The hollow laughed in a short burst.
"All I needed to hear, King."
He dots his eyes with a smiley face; a work of art in all but taste
White hands freed him from the loose constraints of the hakama, removing the pants from his body, and the Hollow couldn't help but smile when he saw the glistening tip of his King's member. Ichigo's knuckles brushed gently across the cheek of his white twin, before he ran his blue tongue from along his shaft, from base to tip.
"Mmm," the Hollow hummed, as Ichigo was engulfed in his mouth. Ichigo cried out at the sensation, bucking his hips forward, and burying his hand once again in the spiky white hair. As the King panted, the whiter version of himself flicked and swirled his tongue around Ichigo's round head. The Shinigami was in pure ecstasy.
the fool deserves the bed he's made where idiots slumber
Bringing his head up, the Hollow brought their lips together once more, and Ichigo began to remove the white shikakushō that covered the pale shoulders of his lover. As their mouths battled, tanned hands explored a ghost-like body, that mirrored his own in all but colour. The strangeness of the situation momentarily phased the ginger haired boy; the Hollow was right... this was basically masturbation. He laughed aloud, dismissing the thought from his mind.
"Something funny, King?" the white Ichigo asked. Ichigo just shook his head, and resumed laying his lips on a pale neck and collar bone. Ichigo felt the Hollow kiss his forehead, before he removed the white hakama that kept their skin from touching. His body was surprisingly warm. Three white fingers were held to pink lips.
"Suck," The Hollow commanded, and the King complied, taking the fingers within his mouth, and dampening them with his tongue.
Divine he is to air his fate
The moistened fingers were removed from Ichigo's mouth, and brought to his entrance, sliding in one by one, preparing Ichigo for the Hollow's larger intrusion. For the first time since the Soul Reaper and his hollow had met, Ichigo noticed the look on his Hollow's face was not sadistic, or mocking. But it was almost identical to his; they both bit their lips, both had their brows furrowed and concentrated looks in their eyes.
Pale fingers moved inside him, and as they stroked along Ichigo's pleasure spot, he moaned, tossing his head back, and letting his eyes fall shut.
"Found it," the Hollow smiled.
A crack of smile through all this hate means nothing more in this nervous state of so much nothing
As the white Ichigo slid himself into the substitute Shinigami, they both groaned, and Ichigo winced, a slight pain coursing through him.
Nothing I can't handle. He thought to himself, enjoying the strange and foreign feeling of having someone inside of him... and of not being in control. The Hollow moved gently inside his King, being careful not to hurt him, retreating, and pushing back into him slowly. Each thrust threatened to break their connection, and each movement had the two Ichigos panting harder, and moaning louder.
Peach coloured arms slid around the white neck above him, and when auburn eyes met golden ones, both of them smiled at each other, blushes covering their cheeks.
I know it's hard for you to see the truth behind this misery.
As the Hollow brushed passed his sweet spot again and again, Ichigo could feel warmth and tension building in his loins, and knew he couldn't contain himself much longer. He dug his nails into the Hollow's back.
"I'm... I'm gonna –" The orange haired boy couldn't form full words, but he didn't need to.
"Come for me, aibou," the Hollow whispered, smiling down into his kings face. Ichigo bit his lip and moaned loudly as he released all over their stomachs. The tightening of his muscles around the paler male pushed him over the edge, and he cried out the name of his king as he filled him. Exhausted, he withdrew, and collapsed on top of Ichigo.
If words could speak, they'd mean even less
The two lay breathless, entwined in a mess of arms and legs, both satisfied and breathing heavily. The Hollow curled himself around Ichigo, and placed a gentle kiss on his ear. Ichigo smiled.
"You never told me why you brought me here," the Soul Reaper indicated, still curious. The other just smiled and laughed.
"Sometimes a horse misses his King," he shrugged. He laid a kiss on the tanned shoulder next to him. "And what can I say... I love ya' Ichigo."
Ichigo cocked an eyebrow, and wondered if that was even possible. But as he looked down at his pale twin, he knew for certain that it was.
"Yeah, love you too, Hollow."
When the King is half undressed
After cleaning himself up, and dressing in fresh clothes, Ichigo was acutely aware that when he awoke, he would be immediately subjected to Renji Abarai and his Bankai, and the annoying over-pleasantness of Kisuke Urahara. But right now, he didn't seem to mind.
He and his Hollow stood close, foreheads pressed together, saying goodbye before he left.
"Don't make me force you here next time, King," the white Ichigo insisted.
"I won't." He promised, drawing his Hollow into his arms, and squeezing him tightly.
Blue Autumns, sunshine kisses.
Ichigo took one final look around his inner world, and into the eyes of his aibou. He placed a final kiss on the pale lips of the Hollow, and whispered a melancholic goodbye before being snapped back into the waking world.
Everything was just the same as when he'd fallen asleep, but he found he could move with much greater ease, no battle wounds holding him down. The only pain he felt was in his back side, but he didn't mind that at all.
Hearts and flowers, broken wishes.
Ichigo climbed up into Urahara's shop, and found everyone sitting around the table, bowls of rice in front of them.
"Hey, look who got up," Jinta stated, not bothering to look his way. "Sit down, there's food for you too."
Ichigo Kurosaki plopped down on his knees next to Ururu and started in on his meal, conversing with Renji and Kisuke. But his mind never wandered from his Hollow. And judging by the maniacal giggle that rang through his head, he had a feeling that his white twin knew exactly that.
Can't wait until next time, Hollow. He thought. He smiled when he heard that laughing voice tell him he'd be waiting.