Summary: All's fair in love and war. Ichigo believes so too. Finally, having enough of Nnoitra and Grimmjow's teasing, he accepts their bet. He'll show them who is the real man around the block. AU. PWP. IchiShiro. Lemon-flavored.

Warnings: PWP. Or in other words Plot? What Plot?, manxman sex, language, randomness&whatthefuckery, not betaed.

Rating: M.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters nor am I making any money writing this story.

Pairing: Ichigo/Shirosaki. IchiShiro.

Dedication: To my darling, awesome friend and brilliant writer — Shirotori (Toringtino).

A/N: It's my virgin-venture into the Bleach fandom, am quite excited about it guys and I wanted to express my undying love for IchiShiroIchi with this piece. Maybe rushed and random, but I wasn't able to finish my other in-writing Bleach works and since I just Itched to finally write something for my Tori, I decided to take No Plot and All Smut approach, lol.

Enjoy my Birdie~ I wrote it with you on my mind~:D

…

Fair Play

…

"Put the money where your mouth is, bitch." Nnoitra leered at him. Ichigo never one to be intimidated by height or weight, glared straight into the stick bastard's face.

"Fine, you stinkin' dickheads. This ain't funny no more. Since you are so fucking cock-sure I will never top Shiro, let's rise the stakes. You'll give me each two and a half grand and if I loose I give you the same amount each. Deal?"

The fiery gaze Ichigo shoot Nnoitra and Grimjow didn't faze them one bit. The fuckers were so damn sure of his permanent position as a bitch it wasn't even funny. He'd make them fucking eat everything they said. Mark his words.

"We have a deal, berry-boy." Grimmjow smirked and they shook their hands to make it official. "And—since ya are so damn confident. One day should be good enough fer ya, eh lil' fruitcake?"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, gripped tighter Grimmjow's hand making their bones grind painfully against each other and said, "One day is perfect. Lunch break. Rooftop. Don't forget to bring the money."

"Same to you, Strawberry." Nnoitra chuckled as they walked away without as much as a second glance. Probably thinking they were few thousand dollars richer.

Shitheads little do they know what I can do when motivated enough. Ichigo grinned.

Like they said long ago in the ancient Rome—Ludi Incipiant!—Let the games begin!

...

Ichigo wasn't some goddamn bastard that made his choices to gain something. But this time he decided to follow the rules his crazy father tried to pound into his head with each and every of his surprise attacks. He decided it was time for some fair play. And in case you missed it, his father never played fair, but used dirty tricks and surprise attacks. Ichigo wasn't like his father, though, but he was no saint either. It wasn't his fault Nnoitra and Grimmjow didn't believe him he was in fact fucking Shiro just as well as being the one screwed into the mattress.

Shiro was one overbearing, possessive shit who loved control above all else, being the bloody insane fighter, and who was the talk of the town among the shady crowd. But Ichigo was the only person around whom he acted more like a human rather than a runaway from a psych ward, thirsty for blood.

Shiro once told Ichigo he had a crush on the temperamental red-head since the time when, on his way home, he saw accidentally how Ichigo single-handedly took care of a whole gang. He recognized the feeling when lust coursed though his body like it was some lightening bolt. He felt unmistakable hardness inside of his pants, straining against his zipper at the show Ichigo put on.

It was bloody.

It was vicious.

It was the most arousing and beautiful sight of a pure dominance he had ever seen.

And he has seen a lot. But something about the red-head made his blood flow faster, breath shallower, and his fingers itched to let his fists do the talking. And so he did. Few days later, he had asked the red-head to fight him. Ichigo had been surprised since every bastard that went after him hadn't bothered asking for his permission, but they all jumped him counting on their overwhelming numbers to best him.

There was never a one-on-one challenge.

Ichigo could have tried to ignore him and go his away; oblivious to the fact who Shiro was, but the eagerness he had seen in the gold eyes swimming in the sea of midnight black sparked his interest. He had agreed under the condition they'd fight in the dojo he is a regular at—The Benihime's, where they wouldn't have to worry about anyone interrupting them.

It was the first time in whole Shiro's life where he lost by a hair to someone else.

It was the first time for Ichigo to go over and beyond his limits, going on instinct only and restlessly try to achieve victory.

It was sweat and blood.

Ripped clothes and bruised bodies.

Sparks and static.

Mouth on mouth.

Skin on naked skin.

Heat and fever.

It was the mark of their beginning.

Shiro and Ichigo attended different classes and so the albino thought nothing of it when the red-head wrote him a message he'd be home earlier. That way Shiro didn't have to wait for him, instead go straight for their apartment. In the mean time, Ichigo busied himself with preparing a romantic dinner for his lover. He took out a bottle of wine he received as a gift from his eccentric uncle Urahara, owner of The Benihime. And later, after everything was prepared, he jumped into the shower, excitement rising, counting minutes to his lover's arrival.

Ichigo just had to try a little bit harder into expressing what he wanted to put his vote through. It was one of those times when Ichigo wasn't budging and just went for it, taking what he wanted.

And just like a mule, he was quite stubborn in that aspect.

...

"A—ah, Ichi— ughn…f—fuck."

Shiro writhed. Feet propped on Ichigo's shoulders, his toes curled in the air. He kept eyes squeezed shut like he couldn't bear to watch the way Ichigo's slick fingers thrust in and out of his ass. His breath hitched when Ichigo's finger brushed a particularly nice spot and he could no longer remember why he was adamant to do this in the first place. Oh, yes—fingers in his ass, being one of the reasons. But—god fucking dammit—if he knew it'd feel close to floating in delirious pleasure, he wouldn't bitch and stall so much. Or maybe it was the alcohol doing the talking? Anyway, no room for useless thinking.

Tch. Who needs pride?

"Shit, again. Hit it again Ichi—just a little…to the right…my right, stupid! …Fucker, you're doing it on purpose!"

Oh, yes, he remembered second reason. Ichigo was a bloody tease when in control. That's why.

"It's only fair, you bastard." he said, and Shiro couldn't disagree with him, remembering how much satisfaction he took in reducing Ichigo's self-control to nothing. Denying him orgasm to the point where blue balls was no longer a phrase. He got off on hearing Ichigo groaning with abandon, whining and demanding Shiro to put the rod-hard cock inside him—or else, you motherfucking sadist—

So he only scowled and gritted his teeth, praying Ichigo wouldn't try to return the 'favor' like he often threatened the albino with. Shiro loved his dick very much and didn't think he'd be able to take much torture the red-head seem so keen on dishing out. His mind was steadily turning to mush from the bliss he was in, and body screaming for release.

And Ichigo couldn't help the cruel smirk as he, once again, brushed the gland. It was cruel, he knew. But it was so, so hot too. Ichigo grinned crookedly in satisfaction. It gave him rush like no other when he got the upper hand on his sinfully gorgeous lover. And if he was honest with himself, he liked whenever Shiro took his time and made him nearly delirious with want. The orgasm that followed was mind-fucking-numbing and never did Shiro leave him hanging. It was a matter of trust. Fiery redhead would never allow any other person, except his pale lover, to bend his will without mercy while taking an immense enjoyment in it, on both sides. Shiro was the only one who broke through Ichigo's anti-social barrier, growing on him like a mold on the stale cheese. The process of decomposition has already begun, but Ichigo wouldn't have it any other way.

There was no longer a second option; they'd gladly go down and be damned together, rather than let anything separate them.

"Nngh, f—fuck!"

Ichigo's musings were interrupted by a particularly high-pitched moan. He was so lost in thoughts he didn't realize he was applying a steady pressure to his lover's prostate. Ichigo no longer needed to focus on what his fingers were doing, long ago they memorized each and every piece of albino's flesh. Instinctively going for the gland inside Shiro and stroking it with precision only an expert doctor could possess. Each trust of Ichigo's long and elegant fingers was making the albino gasp like there was not enough air in the room. Back bending impossibly far and hips having mind on their own, moving rhythmically with a single purpose to take the slick fingers even deeper inside of him.

Ichigo's breathing quickened while his eyes drank in the picture of perfection, ought to be adulated, lying underneath him. The lone sight of the unfocused gold-on-black gaze, flushed face and writhing body corded with taut and wiry muscles could be Ichigo's undoing. But he refused to come all too soon like some over hormonal teenager. He was too proud for that and nothing was better than an intoxicating feeling of sinking to the hilt in silky and hot piece of Heaven on Earth, Shiro's ass was.

The red-head pinched the base of his cock, hissing at the uncomfortable feeling, delaying his orgasm, so he could be able to pound the gorgeous pale minx into coma.

Ichigo swore under breath, taking deep gulps of air to his suddenly deprived lungs. The picture of endless panes of alabaster skin, even Snow White would be jealous of, was brining a beast out of him.

He deemed Shiro ready and unceremoniously flipped him over onto his stomach. The albino was like putty at his hands by that moment.

Ichigo brought Shiro's hips back and groaned when the head of his cock slipped over the slick with lubrication crack. His body trembled as if electrified.

"God, Shiro—", the red-head moaned.

Shiro registered the change of position with few seconds delay. It wasn't even fucking funny, he felt like he'd been drugged.

Drugged on Ichigo's touch.

Sweet fucking addiction, he moaned internally.

He found himself on his hands and knees, Ichigo's fingers digging into his hips, like the guy was afraid he was going to run away. Secretly, he savored the differences of the position. He would rather piss razors than admit out loud to loving the feel of Ichigo's slicked with sweat hot body, perched over his back. The red-head had too big of an ego. Shiro was careful his lover wouldn't get an inflammation of it. The King was the one riding his Horse and he'd love it if it stayed that way. Only occasionally being generous enough to let his—self-declared on the spur of the moment—King have the reins and total control, spicing their mating up that way.

It wasn't that I liked it when Ichigo got all dominant and aggressive. He didn't know who he was trying to convince, but, give a guy a break, he was about to be fucked into oblivion with a rock-hard cock up his ass. He was entitled to be in denial, even if a little bit. Male pride and all that shit.

No really, was his last thought before a loud unabashed groan left his throat. He revealed in; the hiss Ichigo made while he thrust inside for the first time and the sensation of being filled to the brim. The vulnerable feeling it brought was unpleasant, but he managed to ignore it, every time they had sex, when Ichigo grabbed his dick, and when Ichigo leaned over to groan "ohmotherfuckinghell" in his ear.

He wouldn't say it aloud, but Shiro did love being fair.

...

"Oi. What are we gonna do if Shiro comes limpin' tomorrow?" Grimmjow asked Nnoitra, few hours earlier, while they were skipping classes and smoking joints on the school's rooftop.

"What do ya mean 'if'? Like hell that pussy has what it takes to do this and in—" Nnoitra flipped open his cell phone, checking what time it was, "—less than 20 hours no less."

"So the lil' berry was putting up a good front, ya think?"

"What else?" He scoffed while taking a long drag and holding it for few seconds in his lungs, before exhaling deeply. "The moment that motherfucker Shiro who all of the Karakura gangs fear will start bottoming is the moment where we will realize the ghosts exist and the evil butterfly will try to take over the world, starting with destroying Karakura."

"Heh, ya got that right. Let's get piss-ass drunk tomorrow, on berry's tab."

The two laughed like cackling hyenas while on high.

...

If he were to admit what part of his lover's body he couldn't get enough of it would definitely be the criminally gorgeous albino's legs.

Ichigo simply adored or nearly even worshiped at times this part of Shiro's anatomy. He looked down and drank in the view of those deadly, beautiful and homicidal legs.

Lean, taut, endless as ever.

Hundreds of times he found himself on the receiving end of their wrath when they were sparing in the local dojo since Shiro never held back on him. But Ichigo loved the most the feeling it gave him when he was between them. Thrusting inside the albino like the world end was coming. How he loved and craved the fleeting moments where it was Ichigo who was in control himself. And what high it gave him knowing they were strong enough to put a dent in the iron bar, yet Shiro was spreading them willingly and taking everything Ichigo gave.

The red-head held one of those legs in his hands, bringing it up to drape over his shoulder. He smirked down at Shiro who shot him a glare, but it didn't hold the usual fire since Shiro's pupils were dilated from lust and pleasurable haze. Ichigo growled approvingly at the sight and turned his head to sink the teeth into his lover's calf. Shiro shuddered violently beneath him. Gold on obsidian eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of Ichigo thrusting at new, perfect angle. Allowing Ichigo's cock to abuse freely that particular happy spot inside the albino.

Ichigo lips and teeth wandered over the endless panes of taut and shuddering muscles. Marking the perfect white with love bites and teeth marks along the way. He sucked at the skin of the pale lover's inner tight, the free one the redhead wrapped around Shiro's waist and tightened the hold. Shiro's legs were really a perfection to die for, and Ichigo loved them best when he was held between them.

Shiro shuddered as the redhead's mouth enveloped him. Christ, but he had nearly forgotten how impossibly flexible Ichigo was. One hand circled the base of the albino's cock, thumb rubbing, teasing his balls. The redhead's tongue lacked finesse, at this point in their mating, as it worked at him, but it was eager, and wet, and good.

After they both came, Ichigo glanced down at his debauched lover laying spread-eagled beneath him. Shaking hands were the only thing holding Ichigo's body weight up on the sides of Shiro's head.

Shiro glared up at him, not looking too threatening with the blush spread across his face.

"Satisfied?" The albino growled.

Ichigo grinned as he laid down. Their chest rubbing against each other, eliciting a pleased purr from Ichigo as he proceeded to throughly kiss the albino.

Shiro groaned long. It was laced with longing for more when he tasted himself on Ichigo's wicked tongue. He growled when the redhead denied him his mouth abruptly, but any angry retort was silenced by a whispered, "Never."

As Ichigo proceeded to kiss and nimble down Shiro's long neck, hands mapping every inch of his skin and spreading fire wherever they touched, the albino decided he didn't hate being the one totally ravished.

At all.

...

Next day at school Ichigo couldn't wipe the wide shit-eating grin from his face even if he tried to. Nothing was as much satisfying as the sight of slacked jaws of his fellow gang members when Nnoitra and Grimmjow saw the hot-blooded albino trying to hide his limp and obviously failing at doing so. Their eyes bulged out from incredulity seeing their gang leader blushing pink and groaning with want after having his ass squeezed and being kissed stupid by the red-head, in front of half of the school population, no less. Few ambulances were needed to be called due to an excessive blood loss some females and males suffered at the sight.

"Tch. Who knew the bitch-berry had a dick. That's just fuckin' cheating."

Ichigo snorted at the implications, his grin never leaving his face. "Careful what yer saying, Grimm. Someone could misunderstand and think ya were tryin' to call me a woman. I don't think Shiro would be happy to hear ya hinting he was fucked raw by some pussy."

The smirk faded from Grimmjow's face and annoyed frown crossed his face. Nnoitra scoffed from the side, seething internally. Ichigo's smirk only grew. He ignored their banter and teasing enough as it was. It was stupid and juvenile. It wasn't their fucking business how he and Shiro fucked, but it was slowly grating on his nerves how they deluded themselves into thinking he'd just lay down, spread legs and take it. Shiro only was adding fuel to the fire with his innuendos about Ichigo being his wify. He liked to cook and liked to have his shit neat and tidy at their apartment. It didn't fucking mean he was behaving like a goddamn woman.

Shiro was easy enough to convince. He didn't cock-blocked him to do this. He just stated offhandedly since the albino don't give a shit who put food on his plate from then on he was banned from their kitchen and could start ordering take out for himself. Ichigo's cooking was on godly level. In split second Shiro threw away his pride. It shocked him so much, he gave Nnoitra a bloody nose for laughing at that statement and like a puppy with tail between his legs he went after Ichigo to pacify the seething red-head. The make up sex that followed was the best Ichigo had up until then. He'd never forget the sight of Shiro's heaving and flushed with arousal body while the albino was riding Ichigo's hard and dripping cock with abandon. The limp he walked with the two doubting bastards wrote off as them getting too into sparring.

That's why seeing no harm in correcting their fucking delusion, he made a bet with them. Shiro's birthday was coming soon and he was few thousand bucks short from buying him his dream motorcycle.

It was like killing two birds with one stone.

Ichigo's grin was threatening to split his face in two.

Ha. Take that, stupid fuckers.

"Now, pay up, bitches."