Story Title: Life Is But a Dream

OC by: Kuraime-Zhen

Warnings: Story may contain a fair amount of harsh language, violence, sexual content, & angst. Thoughts are in italics.

Characters in Chapter: Ichigo, Toshirou

Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the copyrighted Bleach characters, themes, places, ideas etc. They belong to Tite Kubo in all of his glory. The OC in this story belongs to Kuraime-Zhen who has so graciously given me free-reign over his character.

AN: This is the first chapter of a fiction that was requested to me by fellow ff .net author Kuraime-Zhen a little over a month ago. I am posting this first chapter to kind of 'wet his taste buds' for the story. So, if it takes a bit to get this story moving with decent momentum, bear with me. Forgive me if there are any typos, I shall edit them upon completion of the story.

Chapter One: Prison

Ichigo Kurosaki – age 20 – 2nd year College student and Substitute Soul Reaper:

"There are a number of common themes in a good story, which is why almost all best-selling books are nearly the same story written a hundred different ways. But there are also a number of overdone and worn out spotlight messages that are better left in children's books and the sappy romance novels that my 2-bedroom flat neighbor Ishida reads when he thinks I'm not watching him."

"Take the topic of love, for example. Almost every single story on every single shelf in every little library in the world has at least a subplot about love or romance; and usually it's even the main plot. Why is this? Well, the answer is simple: People love to see relationships form and everything to be rainbows and butterflies in the end, even when everything else seems bleak. People want something hopeful and heartfelt to hold onto."

"Well, my story is no different…or should I say, our story?"

The evening was a humid and icy one, threatening both rain and snow simultaneously. The air was heavy with moisture and the wind held a biting chill to it that the fiery-haired Substitute Soul Reaper was not accustomed to at this time of year. Man, I'm never going to get used to these backwards seasons… he thought as he slid open the door to the 10th Division office.

At first, Ichigo thought the room was empty, for there were no signs of the ice-wielding Captain of the 10th Division at his desk, which was a very rare occurrence. The room was dark, lit only by the hint of sunlight as the giant sky-orb descended slowly under the horizon. He could see the daunting stacks of papers that created a very mountainous appearance on the cherry wood desk, the quill still resting motionlessly in its home next to the inkwell as if it had never even been removed. That's weird… Ichigo frowned in confusion and prepared to leave when a soft, almost inaudible, sigh came from the far corner of the room, stopping him before he could turn over his shoulder.

The deep burgundy sofa that resided on the opposite side of the desk was normally occupied by the buxom strawberry-blonde lieutenant after a long night of liquor and socializing, but right now it was occupied with a figure he had never seen anywhere near the piece of furniture. None other than his snow-prince, Toshirou Hitsugaya, was lying on his back, the top of his right forearm covering his eyes, the other resting lightly against his lean tummy. His Captain's haori was uncharacteristically rumpled about him, as he appeared to be sleeping, and the wind from the opened window across the room was flirtatiously playing with his hair, his chest rising and falling slowly with his breathing.

Oh? So, he finally gave in and collapsed? That's odd; he usually goes back to his room for privacy. I wonder what's up…

Ichigo couldn't suppress the grin of amusement and the swell of his heart at the sight of his frosty dragon in such calm appearance, even if he immediately knew that Hitsugaya was not the type to come in to work for a nap, regardless of what his other faults might have been. Damn, he must've stayed up all night reading through the piles of endless reports and signing away at stuff that doesn't even matter to him in the least. I told him it would catch up with him eventually, poor 'Shiro.

With a small pang of concern, he took a few steps forward, closing the door firmly and locking it behind him. This was the first time in a very long time, probably since Christmas six months ago, that he had seen the young tendo so exhausted and unconscious.

True, it would be weird if Hitsugaya suddenly woke up to see his long-distance boyfriend leaning over him, but Ichigo craned his neck to view him closer anyway, laughing internally at the thought that his little warrior was such a hard-headed man when awake, but so adorable when in slumber. Now, when Toshirou wasn't concentrating on paperwork, fighting some battle, glaring at his lover's foolish antics, and wasn't giving out commands in his firm voice that demanded respect, all negative or overbearing aspects of his personality were overshadowed by the sheer peaceful appearance of his current situation.

The thick mane of snow-white hair was framing his pale almond-shaped face with just a touch of light pink on his now parted lips, his porcelain skin practically glowing in the dim light of the now setting sun. The fan of long thick, blonde lashes ran along the length of his large, closed eyes under the straight line of high silver eyebrows. Even his entire frame, lean and well toned, held that strange combination of the delicate strength of a harsh winter wind and rigid grace of an ice-capped pond that one would skate upon. He was an attractive man –not handsome, but 'beautiful'– not like a woman, but rather a sculpture.

Ichigo shook his head to break himself from the daze settling over him. Now is not the time to be getting turned-on…

He was so preoccupied with slowing his blood that he didn't see Hitsugaya's hand move, before suddenly feeling a cold, clammy grip on his wrist. Ichigo snapped his face to look back at the ice-prince to see that the Captain was still asleep, but the peaceful expression on his face was now gone.

He stirred slowly, a frown marring his sharp features, emitting a small noise of protest as his lithe fingers clutched Ichigo's wrist with surprising strength considering his state of unconsciousness. The grip was not painful or demanding, but almost desperate, as if reaching out for someone to pull him up from some great height. The young Captain's frown deepened and, if Ichigo hadn't known him any better, he would have said that his little dragon looked afraid.

It was what he heard next that confirmed his concerns and suspicions…

"Don't go…" the voice was soft and muffled from exhaustion, but impossible to not understand, "please…"

Hitsugaya murmured some other incoherent things, oblivious to the fact that he was making his lover gape at him, his heart clenching in his chest with worry and confusion, leaving Ichigo frozen with his own brand of fear.

This was not the characteristic cantankerous attitude of his cranky partner. He was never one to show any signs of weakness to anyone, even his own lover, and hearing the manifestation of Toshirou's internal struggle left Ichigo feeling very hollow inside, afraid of what else he might hear that his boyfriend was hiding from him in the dark recesses of his mind.

Ichigo looked down upon the sleeping tendo as if he was seeing someone new, a stranger that was wearing the skin of his love. This vulnerability, this frightened tone in his voice – this was not something that he had ever seen his ice warrior exhibit. It was strange and eerily unnerving.

He knew he was being neurotic, but the fact that it happened to be his wrist that Hitsugaya was clinging to in this subconscious act of desperation suddenly made Ichigo want to do just about anything to soothe away the pain. This is my lover; I can't just sit by and let this happen. I have to do something. I can't believe I let him get this deep into his solitude. Why can't he just talk to me when something is troubling him…?

There must've been dozens of things he could do, not the last one of them would be to just wake Toshirou up, but Ichigo seemed to have stopped thinking entirely, unable to process what the best course of action could be. The only thing he could think to do was to pull his lover's lean body into a sitting position on the couch and cradle his little dragon to his chest, sliding the smaller shinigami into his lap and holding him tightly, placing his frowning face into the junction of his neck and shoulder.

The fact that Toshirou didn't wake up was a astounding, considering how light of a sleeper the young Captain usually was. Ichigo took this moment and dared to place a soft, chaste kiss on his lover's forehead, burying his nose in the down-soft locks of his snow-white hair, the fresh scent tickling his senses. He found the man's forehead to be covered in a light sheen of sweat, sending his heart into another set of skipped beats of worry. If Hitsugaya would have woken and screamed at him for indecency in his office, then the panic of the moment would be extinguished and he would safely return to being his snobby, irritable boyfriend. But that's not what the small shinigami did…

Instead, he had sighed contentedly, relaxing into his touch – Ichigo had not expected such a reaction from Toshirou Hitsugaya. It was unexpected, unnatural and scary.

But the scariest thing of all was that, against the hot flesh of his neck, he could feel the frigid lips of his lover being pressed lightly, sending shivers down his spine at the contact. If there was one thing that his little tendo never did, it was to initiate any sort of physical affection.

Perhaps it was only natural for it to make such a big impact. After all, who would've thought that this usually cold, arrogant, stubborn Captain of the 10th with no affection for anything except watermelon and the late Vice-Captain of the 5th, could actually make a face like that – weak, vulnerable, and afraid.

Ichigo shook his head, trying to erase that face from his mind before he could throw himself into an even greater panic. What the hell is going on here? Then there was the feeling of those lips again…the action wasn't passionate or lingering – just a soft brush of lips. He had experienced longer, more intimate, and more passionate kisses with the young tendo during the intimate interludes they had participated in within the confines of the Captain's quarters, but there was something about this that was so haunting.

All in all, the whole thing was nerve-wracking, "I guess he must be pretty lonely," he sighed to himself, regretting the fact that he couldn't come to visit his love very often now that finals for his 4th semester of college were quickly approaching, taking up all of his spare time, turning their daily tea and dinner routines into weekly half-hour visits.

"Who is?"

The orange-head's heart jumped so high that for a moment he thought he would choke on it. He swiftly looked down at the man in his arms only to see Hitsugaya watching him with a strangely amused expression.

"T-Toshirou?"

"Who is?" the named Captain's voice was still heavy with sleep, fading out at the end of his sentence.

It was hard to answer the question that sounded as if he wasn't even completely coherent. He just hoped Hitsugaya wouldn't press the issue further.

He did.

"Who is the lonely person that you speak of?" returned the soft voice of the warrior in his arms, slightly more awake this time.

Ichigo sighed deeply as he felt a thin hand tighten around the folds of his black robes, his gaze lowering to meet those tired, but still beautiful teal orbs that were looking at him, cloudy with sleep and confusion. "I don't mean to sound like a mother hen, but you don't seem to be yourself tonight, Toshirou…"

He was met with silence as the smaller man tensed slightly in his arms, almost as if he was just realizing the position that they were in.

"… Is that so? I apologize," came the unexpected tense reply.

Fear flooded him once more at the sudden onset of an apology from the stubborn shinigami in his arms. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say…

"…Toshirou?"

The young tendo blinked a few times as if forcing himself back to reality. The panic that had barely left Ichigo, was surfacing again now that he realized that he wasn't getting a response.

The ice-wielder merely pulled himself away from the Substitute's embrace and, after straightening his robes and haori, walked to his desk as if prepared to return to paperwork. The spell was broken…

The young Captain of the 10th picked up his quill, dipped it in the inkwell, and pulled the first paper of off on of the many stacks littering his cluttered desk. As if nothing had just happened, he lowered the quill to the paper, merely scanning the page before scribbling the name on the signature line. "What brings you here so late, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo was floored, choosing to ignore the sudden use of his surname, "I wanted to drop in and see how you were doing before I take my first final in a few days and things get kind of crazy at home. Why else would I be here?"

The Captain nodded silently in approval, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him, "I see. Well, I hope that your exams go well. You should get home so you are rested enough to maybe think semi-clearly for them. Don't let me keep you here."

Ichigo's frown became a puzzle expression, "No, Toshirou, you're never a burden. I enjoy seeing you. You had me kind of worried when I first walked in, seeing how tired you were and all, but if you're okay then we can go get some dinner or something really quick before I head out."

Toshirou barely acknowledged him, merely blinking as he continued to sign documents, "I don't think so. I have far too much work to do. You should come back later this week."

Ichigo felt a sting of hurt graze his heart, "But I already told you that I won't be able to come for a nearly a week now that finals are starting. Don't you listen to anything I say?"

Toshirou, never looking up, replied, "Oh, then I suppose I will see you when your exams are complete. Good luck, Kurosaki."

Ichigo knew what he was doing. He knew that his ice prince was trying to get rid of him so that he didn't have to face the embarrassment of his previous actions. This was the Toshirou he fell in love with, albeit it was the part of his lover that he wished he could change. "I'm not leaving yet, Toshirou. Stop trying to get rid of me... Why are you trying to get rid of me anyway?"

The smaller shinigami never paused in his work, and it was beginning to irritate the Substitute. The answer also left much to be desired from the snowy warrior, "Kurosaki, why do you keep asking questions that you already know the answers too?"

Ichigo gritted his teeth, "Why can't you just answer them, Hitsugaya?" he retorted, matching his lover's undesirable habit of using surnames.

He could see the frustration shining in the turquoise eyes of his partner as he continued the work numbly, "You know I am no good at talking about these kinds of matters – "

"You know, words aren't the only way to tell someone how you feel…" Ichigo impulsively interrupted him, cutting off any further damage that could be done should he complete that statement.

The softly pleading voice of the Substitute Soul Reaper echoed through the nearly empty office as the being it was directed towards finally froze in his motions, the light quill halting mere millimeters from its destination. Words…where had they gone? The young man had said that words weren't the only way…but what if there weren't even words? For the deceptively elder, though smaller, male sat frozen in thought, nothing could explain the disappearance of the tiny groupings of letters that everyone knew as 'words.'

He didn't know how to put them together, or how to explain in any capacity how he felt. It just wasn't a gift that he bore. Not like the orange-haired man that stood before him, arms crossed over his lithe chest, a disappointed frown present on his sharp features. No, Toshirou wasn't sure that his mind was ever working properly when it came to the affairs of the heart. He wasn't good with any kind of words – he never had been. This time was no exception.

"What is it going to take to get you to open up to me? Am I going to have to beg? Am I going to have to constantly keep prodding? Or should I just accept defeat and learn to be satisfied with just 'knowing' that you aren't self-destructing? I worry about you, 'Shiro; Do you know that? Sometimes I wonder if that even matters to you…"

With that, the orange-haired Substitute turned over his shoulder, taking long strides toward the door, the exit, the portal that would take him away from his icy lover. Said lover finally panicked…

"Wait."

The tall twenty-year-old halted his steps mere inches from the exit, his body rigid with tension and frustration. The silence was heavy, tension setting in quickly as he waited for Toshirou to speak, a glimmer of hope igniting, but quickly being quashed by the overriding knowledge that his lover never knew what to say, and that this time probably wasn't any different.

When the silence continued for a few more long moments, Ichigo had endured enough, sighing deeply in defeat, "Okay, Toshirou. Whenever you are ready, you come and find me. If that doesn't happen, then I guess I'll just see you in a few weeks when I'm done with school. You should use this time to sort yourself out; find out where I fit in with the rest of your life…if I even do. Have a nice night."

And before Toshirou could say anything, the substitute slid open the door to the office and exited the building, slamming the wooden frame shut behind him. Disappearing into the night, he left his ice prince to the paperwork with a heavy heart and frazzled mind to take him prisoner once again.

…TBC…