AN: My first Bleach fic! Okay, so it's very AU, contains a lot of swearing and sex (although I don't write actual sex scenes, because I can't do it for shit), and has very few actual pairings. Sort of harem-y concerning Ichigo and Shirokō, although they will not be in any sort of romantic relationship with any one person. So, yeah. Harem-ish, moresomes, open relationships abound. Also, don't worry, the AUness will be explained throughout the story. It's not too hard to understand once it's out there :). Characters will be OOC, as to be expected from how AU this is, but I shall do my best to keep them as in-character as I can. That said, I hope you enjoy!
"I HAVE JUST BEEN KIDNAPPED. FOR THE THIRD TIME THIS YEAR. THIS TIME, BY MY SUPPOSED FRIENDS. I. NEED. ALCOHOL."
Ichigo's roar of frustration echoed throughout the big-ass wood-and-glass villa he had woken up as a captive in. He leaned back in the leather armchair that he had commandeered, and glared.
The startled faces looking back at him did nothing to ease his anger. What the fuck did they think he was gonna do? Accept it? Sit back calmly and wait for the conditions of his return to be met? Cry like some damsel in distress? Fuck no. Kurosaki Ichigo was a big boy, who knew how to handle himself in any kind of situation. And right now, he needed to get shitfaced drunk in order to temporarily forget the fact that several of his best friends had teamed up with his twin brother's sort-of-friends, to kidnap him and play keep-away with said brother, because the idiot owed them all a fuckton of money.
So, yeah. Alcohol was priority one right now.
"Ichigo…" Renji trailed off awkwardly. Ichigo scowled in response, and the redhead flinched. 'Damn fucking right you flinch, Abarai,' Ichigo thought viciously. 'I hope you choke on your awkwardness.'
"What Abarai is trying to say," Szayel, the pink haired bastard, interrupted Ichigo's glaring contest with the side of Renji's head (the cowardly traitor wouldn't even look him in the eye!), "Is that we have no alcohol in this house. We stocked it only with the basic necessities."
Ichigo growled from his armchair at the head of the coffee table. Stocked it! They'd stocked the goddamn house with things they would need during his time as a prisoner. Exactly how long had the traitorous assholes been planning this?
"Well, go out and GET SOME THEN!" He roared again. "I don't know what you fuckers deemed necessary for a hostage situation," a collective flinch from all Ichigo's supposed friends in the kidnapping crew. "But I am going to assume that this place is severely lacking, seeing as you have. No. Alcohol."
There was silence. Apparently no one knew how to handle the hotheaded kidnapping victim, who was not reacting the way they had predicted (which Ichigo thought was stupid; they'd known him for years, what the fuck else was he going to do?). Just as Ichigo was about to lose his shit – again – the blue haired (sinfully sexy bastard) somewhat-friend of his twin spoke up. "He's right."
At the startled glances he got, Grimmjow continued. "We're gonna need some fucking alcohol once we get through to Shirokō."
Kurosaki Shirokō was Ichigo's twin brother, younger by four minutes. He was also Ichigo's best friend in the entire world, the person closest to him, and, Ichigo felt, the other half of his soul. The antagonistic, violently sadistic half.
Ichigo couldn't help the satisfied smirk that settled on his face at the obvious dread felt by every single one of his kidnappers – even the ever-stoic Ulquiorra. Once Shirokō got the news that his twin was essentially being held for ransom, he was going to go ballistic.
He would comply, of course, the arsefucks couldn't have picked a better method to get their money back. Both Ichigo and Shirokō were dangerously codependent on each other; the kidnappers wouldn't even need to harm Ichigo. Just the threat of not being able to see Ichigo until he paid them all back would have Shirokō working double time to get the money together.
Their codependence was not common knowledge though, Ichigo thought sullenly. The twins were rather notorious throughout all of Soul Society (throughout all of Hell's Gate, really), but only those closest to them were aware of just how much they relied on each other. Which was exactly why Ichigo was so angry at the betrayal of those he had called friends. Kidnappings, killings and such were nothing new in their society, but loyalty and trust were hard-won, and Ichigo couldn't believe that they – that Renji! – would take advantage of his trust, just for some fucking money.
"He's going to beat the shit out of all of you, and then take you to Kurotsuchi for the facial reconstruction surgery you'll all need afterwards." Ichigo informed the group of suddenly pale fuckwits, with some measure of malicious glee. Kurotsuchi Mayuri was infamous for taking certain, liberties, with people's bodies when they went to him for adjustments. His twin would certainly take pleasure from leaving the traitors to the deranged scientist/surgeon's tender mercies.
"Come on, Ichi-kun," Franceska Mila-Rose purred, pouting at the younger man. "You wouldn't really let Shiro-kun hand us over to the Madman, would you?" Her full lower lip stuck out seductively as she gestured at herself, her Fracción sisters, and their mistress (not appearing to hear the protests from the male portion of the group).
Ichigo didn't even don his usual scowl as he looked at her. "Wouldn't I, Mila-Rose?"
Renji watched as Mila-Rose recoiled, looking as though she'd been slapped. He didn't think it was so much Ichigo's words that had struck her, as much as how he had said it. The orange haired man always had some form of passion igniting his speech, whether it be anger, determination, or happiness. But just now… Ichigo's tone had been cool, his face blank.
Renji tried to ignore the churning feeling in his stomach, instead choosing to focus on his fellow conspirators.
Harribel and her Fracción were the only females in the group, with Harribel herself being the only one to whom Shirokō actually owed money. The blonde woman was sitting on the opposite end of the long, low glass table from Ichigo, with Appaci leaning on the back of the armchair, and Mila-Rose and Sung-Sun perched on her armrests.
There were two identical black leather four-seater sofas opposite each other on the long sides of the coffee table; both full to capacity. The one closest to Renji, who was standing in the corner between said sofa and Harribel's chair, held the pink haired Szayel Granz, Nnoitra Gilga with the serial killer grin, emo looking Ulquiorra Cifer, and the ever-shirtless Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. The last of who was grinning wildly, probably at the thought of the epic fight he was sure to get into with Kurosaki Shirokō once they had all been repaid.
(Shitshitshit, don't think about that, go back to the people).
On the other sofa, to Renji's right, was Ichinose Maki, who was looking pretty uncomfortable. Understandable, considering he was seated next to Madarame Ikkaku, who was also grinning his batshit insane pre-battle grin. On the other side of Ikkaku sat the baldy's best friend, Feather Face AKA Ayasegawa Yumichika, with a pained grimace twisting his mouth. And squashed at the end, yet still managing to loom menacingly, was Ichimaru Gin, complete with sinister fox grin.
The last two of Renji's co-conspirators, Hisagi Shuuhei and Kano Ashido, were in the corner parallel to Renji's, except further back, seated on the top step that led down into their little sitting space. Both of them were carefully avoiding looking at Ichigo. They, and Renji as well, were feeling the guilt more keenly then any of the others (although Renji couldn't think how that would explain Shuuhei's red face).
During the time that Renji had been thinking about his fellow kidnappers (fuck!), Ichigo and Grimmjow had been arguing with the others about somebody going on a supply run for booze. Now, as Renji tuned back in, he was just in time to hear Gin say, "Harribel, ya an' Szayel go an' raid th' nearest bottle shop. Everybody'll pay their share later, right?" The last was spoken to everybody, with Gin's familiar unsettling smile in place. They all nodded frantically. The smile grew wider.
Renji shivered, shifting his gaze away from the silver haired ex-taichō. How that creep had landed an absolute babe like Matsumoto Rangiku, Renji would never know.
Harribel and her Fracción followed Szayel up and out of the sunken sitting area, already deep in discussion about what kind of alcohol to get. Renji had the feeling there would be more than enough to keep all of them plastered for the duration of Ichigo's kidnapping.
(Fuck, now he felt like shit again).
He sent a sidelong glance at his orange haired friend – because, despite the circumstances, he did consider Ichigo to be one of his best friends. He just really needed his money back; Shirokō had borrowed quite a bit, and Renji had been feeling it for a while. Things would be different if it didn't appear as though Shirokō was simply gambling his money away. If he'd actually needed the money, Renji would've been happy to let the other man pay him back in his own time. Just coz he was more Ichigo's friend than his twin's, didn't mean Renji didn't like the guy. Shit, if Shirokō had really needed the money, that meant Ichigo and the girls probably did as well. He would never not do as much as he possibly could for the Kurosaki family. But, well, that didn't seem to be the case, and Renji had come to the end of his – admittedly limited – patience.
But anyway. Ichigo was slumped back in his armchair, face totally devoid of any emotion. The non-expression didn't suit the orange haired man's face, and Renji felt like shit for putting it there.
'Screw this,' he decided, thrusting his body into motion. 'Pride isn't worth shit right now.' Not compared to Ichigo (although this rather sentimental thought was shoved out of his brain as soon as it registered).
Renji fairly flew past the back of the sofa containing several of Aizen's prize Espada, coming to a halt directly in front of Ichigo's armchair. Ichigo's brown eyes widened in complete shock when the redhead dropped to his knees before him. Renji didn't notice when Ichigo flicked his hand, ordering the others out of the room, nor the hard glare he sent in order to make them obey, as he'd buried his face in Ichigo's lap. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he repeated desperately. "Please, please don't hate me."
Staring in astonishment down at his prideful friend on his knees, Ichigo felt a dreadful realization bubbling up inside him. Running a hand along the bowed head on his lap, Ichigo took a deep breath. "Ren."
Renji made an inquisitive noise, but didn't raise his head. Ichigo vaguely wondered how embarrassed Renji would be once his pride caught up with his guilt. He let his fingers trail down the side of Renji's face, taking hold of his chin and forcing his head up.
"Renji." Ichigo's voice was firm. "Look at me."
Dark eyes finally, for the first time since Ichigo had woken up as a hostage, met deep brown. Admittedly, the younger male felt some sense of satisfaction in the huge amount of guilt and regret filling those wine-colored orbs. "Abarai Renji," Ichigo closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them, expression hard. "Was it you who came up with this plan? Is this your doing?" His heart clenched at the stricken look on the tattooed face before him.
Shit.
All of his righteous anger drained away, leaving only the betrayal and the hurt. He closed his eyes, not wanting Renji to see just how much that revelation had rocked him.
A little too late though, judging by the suddenly bruising grip Renji had on his calves. "I didn't mean to," the redhead insisted urgently. "It was an accident."
Ichigo could feel a slow burning starting up deep in his chest, his anger creeping back bit by bit. "How, exactly," he demanded. "Do you accidentally suggest holding your best friend for ransom?"
Instead of looking away as Ichigo had half expected, Renji's gaze just grew more intense. "I swear it, Ichigo, I swear on yours and Rukia's lives, I did not mean for this to happen."
That caught Ichigo's attention. Swearing by his own life was one thing – considering the bullshit circumstances – but swearing by Rukia's… The two men had risked their lives to save hers so many times over the years, always doing everything in their power to make sure the adopted Kuchiki was safe and happy. Because her life was beyond precious to the both of them. So.
"Explain." Ichigo's voice was unyielding. Because he needed to know, almost desperately, how Renji could possibly excuse this. Thinking that the hotheaded idiot had simply got caught up in this fucking kidnapping scheme was almost excusable; Ichigo could be angry, and hurt, but mostly angry, and punch Abarai in the face a few times and be done. But if he had actually been the one to start this, if he had deliberately used the knowledge that Ichigo had trusted him with against him…
Ichigo wanted to throw up at the thought. He would never, ever, admit to how much that idea pained him, opened up a well of hurt and damn near tore his heart open. He needed to know.
Had somebody just taken a sledgehammer to his chest? That was what it felt like to Renji. Ichigo was looking at him with betrayal burning in his brown eyes, demanding that the young Fukataichō provide the answers to everything.
This, this feeling was exactly was exactly why Renji had been trying not to focus too hard on exactly what was going on around him, trying to distract himself with thoughts of his co-conspirators, and the house they'd chosen to hide in. He was finding it hard to draw breath, and he was fairly certain that his heart was about to give up. The guilt was overwhelming. But Ichigo needed him to explain, and Renji would be damned if he didn't comply with Ichigo's wishes for the rest of his life.
Because Renji was almost certain that he was the only person who really knew and understood just how hard this separation was going to hit the older Kurosaki twins (except maybe Ichimaru, who seemed to know everything). And it was his own stupid fault for kickstarting the whole thing in the first place, no matter how inadvertent it had been.
So Renji sucked it up, stayed on his knees, and prayed that Ichigo could read the honesty in his eyes. "You know how Shirokō owes us all like, a lot, yeah?" He started. Ichigo frowned down at him, but nodded. "Well, it's been going on for a while now, and I didn't know how many people he'd been borrowing from, but then Ikkaku, Yumichika and Shuuhei told me he'd asked them too, and I was pretty pissed, you know? I mean, we'd been drinking, and I was so frustrated, because none of us had any fuckin' idea what he was using the money for, but then fuckin' Ichimaru walked in with Harribel and Ulquiorra, and heard us, and he just invited himself into our discussion, the rude fucker," here Renji took a deep breath before barreling on, afraid he would stop if he didn't get it all out in one go. "And he told us they'd just come from registering Nnoitra and Grimmjow in the cage fights, and he'd heard that Shirokō had just lost big down there, and had been for the past few weeks. It just made me so fucking mad, Ichigo, especially when all three of them said Shirokō owed them big as well. We kinda just kept drinking, and talking about it, and getting madder and madder, and I swear to God, Ichi, I have no idea how they decided on kidnapping being a good idea, but I said something like, why don't we just talk to Ichi, because obviously everybody knows that Shirokō would do anything for him, and those, those fucking," Renji sputtered helplessly for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Aizen's fucking henchmen," was what he came up with, but he had no time to facepalm himself. "Took that to mean, 'why don't we just take Ichi, because obviously Shirokō would do anything for him', for him meaning to get him back. That was two nights ago, and I'm so, so, so sorry, Ichigo, I just got caught up in the drunken planning, and later on it was too late to back out, and the others would've gone on without me anyway, so I thought I should be here, for you, with you, because I know how hard you two take being separated."
Fucking hell.
Renji took a great, heaving breath. It was almost panicky, the way it'd all come spewing out of him. He wasn't entirely sure that the whole thing had been in any recognizable language.
Well, whatever. Ichigo wasn't asking him to repeat it (thank fuck, because Renji honestly did not think he could go through that again, it was fucking nerve wracking. Also, he'd forgotten the majority of what he'd said). So Renji sat back, finally giving his knees a break, and waited with bated breath for his best friend's response.
It was catching up to him now, the embarrassment. He could feel the blood slowly rising in his cheeks. Oh jeez. Only this man could have made him forgo his not-inconsiderable pride and have him begging on his knees (Rukia so did not count; she would have killed him before he had the opportunity to beg). Renji would never have put himself in such a submissive, vulnerable position for anybody else, not even his Taichō. But goddamn, Kurosaki Ichigo, who gave his all to everybody until they were compelled to give their all back; he didn't even have to say anything to have Renji throwing his ego off a cliff.
No regrets though. No if Ichigo forgave him, and probably even if he didn't. It was a ridiculously sappy sentiment, especially considering Renji wasn't even in love with the guy. Much.
Bashing his – or Renji's – head against the wall sounded like a good option to Ichigo. Honestly.
At least, he thought as he slithered out of his chair and into a startled Renji's lap, he could stop the unnecessary angsting about his best friend betraying him (although that did nothing for the angst about all his other friends betraying him, because being drunk was not an acceptable excuse, and they clearly weren't drunk now, the traitorous fuckfaces. Renji wasn't a traitor. He was just an idiot.
Ichigo straddled the tattooed redhead's lap, long legs slung over muscular thighs. He brought their foreheads together in a gentler mimicry of their usual argumentative stance, smiling wryly into Renji's dark eyes. "You," Ichigo started, enunciating as clearly as he could. "Are an idiot. But," he paused, taking in the desperation and guilt on the older man's face, reassuring himself. "Idiocy can be forgiven."
Renji's relief was almost palpable. His eyes slipped shut, and he shifted, pulling Ichigo even closer to his broad chest. "Ichi…" he breathed.
The orange haired man let his friend cuddle him for a moment longer before gently tugging back a bit. He eyeballed the man beneath him sternly. "I do, however," Ichigo informed his friend. "Reserve the right to involve you unconditionally in any revenge scheme that Shiro and I come up with."
Ichigo had to repress a mad cackle of laughter more reminiscent of his twin than himself when he saw the mixture of dread and horrified resignation on Renji's face. Shiro was notorious for his elaborately devious plans for vengeance. And his utter ruthlessness. Renji was right to be apprehensive. But taking part was better than being a victim, so the redhead just sighed and nodded. Ichigo chuckled, leaning forward to brush his lips against Renji's, conveying all his gratitude and relief through the contact. When he drew back, Renji was grinning.
Large hands patted Ichigo's waist. "C'mon, up. We should probably go make sure the others haven't killed each other."
Ichigo hummed in agreement. "Not when that privilege belongs to Shiro and me." He frowned as something suddenly occurred to him. "Speaking of killing, where's Zangetsu? And Ririn, for that matter?"
Zangetsu was the daishō pair of swords he'd made; black, to match the white pair made by his brother. Ririn was the AI robot girl that had been foisted upon his by Urahara Kisuke, his late father's old friend. She usually followed him everywhere, and she had definitely been with him when he'd been kidnapped from his own clinic.
Renji made a face. "Szayel disabled Ririn. We left her on a bed in the clinic. She's not damaged or anything," he said hurriedly, noting the scowl forming on Ichigo's face. "He just turned her off. And Zangetsu's here, in the house. Ichimaru didn't want you waking up and swinging at us."
"Good call," Ichigo admitted, unrepentant. "Am I going to get them back before Shiro pays up?" He felt Renji tense underneath him, uncomfortable with the idea that, even though they'd made up, Ichigo was still technically a prisoner. Calloused hands slipped from his waist to grip onto his thighs, tightening almost to the point of pain. Ichigo winced, but let it go. He just stared expectantly at Renji while the redhead calmed himself, ignoring the ache in his thighs.
Barely a minute passed before Renji's grip loosened, an apologetic grimace on his face. "Yeah," he replied guiltily. "Probably not to hold onto, but both Ikkaku and Grimmjow have been going on about fighting you while you're-" he stopped. "Uh, while we're all here. So you'll get a chance to beat on them with Zangetsu, at least." Renji grinned weakly.
Well, there was that, at least, Ichigo thought. Because so far, being a hostage was shit.
AN: Well, there ya go! Lemme know what ya thought, if ya liked it, or if I am not cut out for this kind of fic and should scrap it :L. Thanks for reading!
- Kelly