WARNING – This contains fairly graphic male on male non-consensual sex. If this, or themes surrounding this, bother you then click the back button now, as this isn't for you.
Disclaimer – This isn't mine, isn't even remotely mine in more ways then one. Bleach is the property of Kubo Tite, bless his heart for inventing these wonderful characters. And secondly the intellectual property of the entire thing belongs to Saintalecto over on LiveJournal. She posted the original to this and we started up a conversation about the boys being in/out of character and the actions involved within. Needless to say the end result was pretty ambiguous, with no real conclusion reached. She rewrote the last part of this in an attempt to try something different and I, out of curiosity asked if I could have a go. This is the result.
The original can be found at.
http :// community. livejournal. com/ishiichi/174397. ht ml# cutid1
remove the spaces and it should work. Oh and its probably obvious that a couple of things don't make sense, as this only covers the latter half of the original. It does happen to sit quite well all on its own, but not perfectly. As usual its unbeta'd and this was written fairly quickly so its highly possible it will contain errors along the way!
And to those of you wondering where the third part to Stepping Stones is. YES! I am writing it :) It's turned into a monster and is going on and on, so apologies, but it shouldn't be too long.
So without further ado…
Stupid ffnet formatted the italics through half of the fic then just decided to give up. GAH lets hope this goes right. I knew there was a reason I used apostrophes to denote "thought" text in the other fic. Pfft.
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Stupid Shinigami Ishida thought as he padded across the bedroom floor towards the en suite, his feet sinking into the luxurious carpet. Always thinking he can get whatever he wants. Scooting out his hand, Ishida found the familiar handle, the door swinging silently open on well-oiled hinges. Reaching around he located the cord and gave it a firm yank, bathing the room in a soft white light. Well not this time.
Ichigo sat, cross-legged on the bedroom floor and heard the door slam shut, the light about him falling away.
"Bastard." The Shinigami said aloud, lowering his back to the floor and sprawled out in the copious space.
"Just who the fuck does he think he is. 'How childish'. Stupid Ishida."
In the background Ichigo could hear the quiet roar of the shower starting up.
Dumb fuck he thought. Wouldn't be quite so irritating with Zangetsu slammed through his chest. The idea of Ishida reduced to a helpless urchin stuck to a rock, made Ichigo smile. Then realising Hinamori's Bankai couldn't even save him from that, he thought better of it. Ichigo didn't wish death upon the Quincy, just utter humiliation. A gruesome black eye would do nicely. Explain your way out of that one, stupid priss.
No matter how Ichigo tried, the recent memory of Ishida's spurting cock wouldn't leave him alone. The whole sensation making his skin crawl, the thought of it was just wrong.
The water continued in its pitter-patter, Ichigo could feel the room becoming faintly moist and wondered what it was like on the other side of the door. Pale, supple skin would be stretching, tightly against the thin, but well-defined form as he washed. Then the shower would stop and the soft skin would glisten, light sparkling off stubborn drops that slow slid down the smooth surface. Those dextrous fingers would then, glide past, nimbly with a fluffy towel, taking away the devious droplets, muscles rippling and leaving behind flawless skin.
"Bastard." Ichigo said out loud again, only this time more frustrated.
Fucking sexy Quincy. Ishida's body was perfect, a beguiling combination of distinct femininity, swirled together with, rough unkempt masculinity. Why did he have to ruin the fantasy by opening his recalcitrant mouth.
All the fucking shit of Ishida, the disagreeable moronic fastidiousness that made his skin boil with fury. Yet here he was still lying on the Quincy's bedroom floor, becoming more painfully aroused by the second.
Stupid fucking Quincy. He thought, wrestling with an alien combination of emotions.
Stupid FUCKING Quincy he thought again. This time something flipped in his brain, as if he had gained total clarity.
Fucking. Quincy. Images of his own large hands running over that tight lithe frame, flashed through his mind. The very thoughts fuelling his current and very real desires, selfish pleasure over taking rational thought, stripping away his last remnants of self-control.
All he wanted was lube. Ichigo reasoned. There should be something suitable in the bathroom, so he can keep his stupid mouth shut.
Ichigo got up and stumbled around in the dark unfamiliar territory, tripping on something as he moved. He continued along, guided only by a sliver of light peaking through the crack in the door. Through trial and error, and a few sore toes, he ended up outside the bathroom, feet pattering when he got there. Cork tiles.
Bastard. He thought. Who the fuck has cork tiles outside their en suite? Only, 'everything has to be perfect' Ishida, that's who.
With steely determination Ichigo blustered through the door and stood there blind, helpless in the bright light.
Fuck.
Feeling around he found a pull string and gave it an angry tug. The string broke, the light went out.
Better.
The bathroom darkened, gloomy. A streetlamp close by sent painfully inadequate rays through the small frosted window. With the light behind Ishida, Ichigo could make out a silhouette of his slender body, standing still under the stream of water.
"Kurosaki?" he questioned, slightly anxious. Ichigo's feet wetly slapping across the damp floor.
"Kurosaki?" he repeated as the footfalls stopped. Ishida could barely make out Ichigo's figure looming behind the shower screen, almost as he was not there.
"Aaaaah" Ishida jumped quietly under his breath as the glass was thrown aside, Ichigo's shadow rushing past and threw him against the wall, their bodies squashing together.
"Hmmm so soft." The almost invisible spectre murmured.
"Get off me." Ishida commanded and went to push Ichigo away with his legs, a futile effort, Ichigo effortlessly pinning them to the wall.
Ishida looked up, his eyes now more accustomed to the dim light, orange flecks from the sodium lamp, sparking off Ichigo's rich brown orbs and revealed a distant, glassy detachment. The Quincy had only seen this look a few times before and knew immediately there was nothing he could do.
Ichigo slowly breathed out, the flow of air dancing over Ishida's lips. Ichigo cocked his head to one side and went in for a quick rough kiss. Then spun him round forcefully by the wrist and pressed their bodies tightly together against the wall, his breath hot on Ishida's neck. In the process, the Quincy bracelet the boy held so dear, snapped off and tumbled almost in slow motion, through the air. The multifaceted texture sending spirals of light outwards as it fell, as if clinging on for precious life, before being consumed by the darkness.
"I promise I won't make you cry."
The words were sincere, Ishida could tell, but they were listless and devoid of any life.
Ichigo continued to rub up against Ishida's delicate skin and fumbled around. Moments later he had found something and was running said something between the cleft of Ishida's ass, working up a suitable lather. After which he repeated the process on his own pulsing erection. Placing the bar of soap back where he found it, Ichigo slid his cock past Ishida's cheeks, the pliable flesh along the way, gently hinting at what was to come. Slowly, but firmly Ichigo pushed in, breaking through the tight opening and didn't stop till he was fully immersed.
Both boys let out startled gasps. Ichigo's reminiscent of pleasant experiences long past, Ishida's more towards that of painful suppression, but amongst the clatter of the water, it was hard to tell.
"See?" Ichigo said, voice quivering, as he wrapped an arm about Ishida's waist. "Not so bad."
Ishida was tight. Ishida was warm. Ishida was beyond anything Ichigo could have ever imagined, and the tiny amount of friction caused by their pulsing, living bodies was more then he could stand. He had to move. Now.
Ichigo groaned. Pulling away he could feel Ishida's body flow to surround his sensitive organ, gently caressing him with every movement made. The sensation was pure bliss, causing a build up that accumulated in the depths of his groin and spread itself throughout his entire body. Small tendrils of pleasure finding their way to places Ichigo never knew existed.
Soon, the steady rhythm Ichigo had initially set up wasn't enough, he wanted deeper, he wanted faster, he wanted it all, he wanted to be consumed by Ishida. The Shinigami brought his penis as far back as he could, without leaving the Quincy and thrust in quickly, venturing further then he had before.
"Please." Ishida spluttered out at the sudden change. "Kurosaki, please."
Ichigo continued in earnest, driving himself as hard, and as fast as he could into the ever tightening mass that was Ishida Uryuu. Ishida had tried, thought he could handle it, but he was wrong. Everything was far more then he could take, if only he had acted differently, but it was too late now and resentful tears began to fall down his face.
His stupid pride, not that Ichigo was any less to blame. Both of them were pathetic.
A low grunt escaped Ichigo's chest, rumbling through them both. He was close, unbelievably close and he pushed even faster, faster, faster. Then he was flooding Ishida with his seed, body convulsing with each jerky spasm.
Ichigo pulled out, stumbling backwards and clumsily came to rest, sitting on the floor and let out a bone deep sigh. Looking over he saw Ishida quavering against the cold wall, realisation slowly sinking in as the proud Quincy slid agonisingly down the tiled surface, staggered till he hit the ground. His body crumpled, twisted into a strange position, barely able to move.
Go on then, do something. Ichigo thought, expecting Ishida to utter something crude. The deafening silence that followed made the severity of what had occurred finally sink in.
Wha… w .. what have I done? Ichigo blinked as if the sight wasn't quite real. I.. he..
Laughing maniacally a small, scathing voice crawled its way out from the depths of Ichigo's consciousness. Yes Kurosaki, just what HAVE you done.
Ichigo brought his hands up and covered his face. Not…now. Anytime but now..
Something the matter Ichigo? Want me to GO AWAY. The laughing continued. Ohhhh, I see what's happened. The hollow crowed out. You turned your friend into an enemy, something that had to be conquered, and went at him with the intent to destroy. Heh, I like your style of thinking, perhaps we can learn to get along after all.
That couldn't be right?.. could it?
And, judging by the sight of things I'd say you Won! Bravo!
I won…?What did I win? Winning usually felt good. But all he was left with was a giant black void. Empty, pointless.
Ishida began to twitch. Twitch. Things sometimes twitched before he killed them.
I can't have? He can't be?
And why not? The hollow sang in again. Your, long, thick, cock. Pounding. Slamming. Thundering into his tight warm body . BANG BANG BANG. Mmmm mmm. The hollow rang out as if eating a rare delicacy. I'm sure the Quincy over there is JUST as soft on the inside as he is on the outside.
Ichigo hadn't even noticed when he'd moved, but he was now crouched over Ishida. He could feel the heat of the other boy against his fingertips, not knowing what to do next, his hands barely a millimetre away from the precious skin.
"Come to kick me when I'm down Kurosaki? Why can't you just fuck off and leave me in peace."
Ichigo didn't move.
"Kurosaki." Ishida started up, moving his head to look at the Shinigami and saw the boy staring bleakly into the distance, he sighed angrily. Oh that's right, you fucking beat me up, and now you want to see if I'm all right. How Noble. How Shinigami.
"I am not going to die. That's what to know right? Now can you please just le."
Ichigo didn't allow Ishida to finish what he was about to say, as he collapsed down on top of him, relief coursing through his body. The entire emotional mountain had finally come crashing down in an overwhelming tidal wave. Ichigo's eyes uncontrollably glazing over as one, solitary tear fell to the ground.
"I never meant to…" he trailed off, trying composing himself and let out a long over due breath. "I'm sorry." He barely whispered out on the last of the air.
"I'm sorry too." Ishida said quietly, surprising Ichigo that he'd even heard him.
Ishida was sorry. Ichigo was sorry. The whole situation was a sorry disaster that should never had happened. The words said nervously didn't even come close towards making any of it right, but at least they were trying. As usual, only time, life's great mystery, would tell. If both boys were willing, bridges could be built, bridges that could potential forge the foundation towards something neither of them could even begin to comprehend.
"It seems as though we've both broken our promises today." The Quincy added quietly, the pressure from Ichigo's solid body helping to take his mind off the pain.
By this time, the hot water had run out, both boys starting to shiver in the cold. Ichigo reached up, clamped his fingers brashly around the tap and turned off the water, and with it, helped to stop all the tears that never did and never would fall.
Fin.