This story was a gift for a dear friend who needed to be cheered up. I, unfortunately, also was dragged into loving this pairing from the moment that I started to write them. How fun they are!

Title: Indissoluble
Rating: Pg-13
Pairing: Hollow Ichigo x Ichigo
Word Count: 4800

There was really nothing Ichigo disliked more than the sickening feeling of sweat rolling between his shoulder blades, pooling at his lower back and soaking into the waistband of his boxers. Every article of clothing was sticking to his body, making him grimace with each movement and look up at the glittering sun as though it were some kind of mortal enemy. Why he'd agreed to come with Yuzu to this godforsaken strawberry farm was beyond him, though it may have had something to do with the massive amount of guilt he'd felt lately regarding his frequent absences.

"Ichi-nii!" Yuzu called, coming up with a bright smile and a small wicker basket half-full of strawberries. His youngest sister was always prepared for everything, even going so far as to make an outfit especially for the occasion…pink and white with a big striped hat that covered her eyes. How appropriate. "You don't have a basket! How can you be picking without one? Here."

With that she handed him the small basket, wandering off in the opposite direction, her rose pink boots slapping noisily in the mud that formed between the raised planting beds that were overflowing with long vines covered with ripe red fruit.

Ichigo stood there for a moment, looking down at the object in his hand and rolled his eyes. Wading through the muck wasn't his idea of a good time, and since no one had bothered to warn him to bring something other than his normal tennis shoes, he was not only sweaty but he was starting to get dirty. Fantastic. Best time of his life.

"The little red riding hood look is good on you, your highness," came a distorted voice in the back of his mind, making Ichigo look around for the source even though he already knew who it was. "Dumbass…you're really brainless, you know that? How many times have you heard me and yet you still look around like I'm standing right behind you…"

"Shut it," Ichigo growled, letting out a frustrated sigh as his feet sunk down into the mud, struggling slightly to pull them back out only to find that they went further in. "You come out at…the most…inconvenient times. Slink back…into…your hole."

"But I'm bored, and you seem to be having so much fun," Shirosaki's voice resounded sarcastically, rubbing on the inside of Ichigo's head like a cat, making him shiver even though it had to be over ninety degrees. "So…what are you doing anyway?"

"Nothing that involves you! Go away!" Ichigo yelled, glancing embarrassingly around when he saw a pair of elderly ladies in large hats look his way with shocked expressions. Had he said that out loud? Dammit! His amber eyes narrowed, wishing he could glare at the hollow but knowing that he couldn't…still…glowering made him feel better about the situation.

"I'm telling you to go away," Ichigo whispered fiercely, pulling hard at his left foot in the mud only to find that it wouldn't budge. "Do it. Now."

Silence suddenly descended upon his mind, allowing Ichigo to focus his attention on other things, most importantly getting his shoe unstuck from the sludge that he'd gotten caught in. The first few tugs were unsuccessful, only accomplishing in him becoming unbalanced and wobbly. Another rough heave and his foot came free, sending him (as he was a bit unprepared) sprawling onto his ass into the mud as the basket Yuzu had given him wound up dumping its contents onto the ground.

The laughter that sprang up inside his mind only made his humiliation worse, starting soft and quiet and escalating into the nearly psychotic cackling that he was more accustomed to. "Oh, you're a graceful one! Like a fuckin' ballerina!" The laughter died down as Ichigo leaned his face against his knee, drawing back sharply when a smear of wet dirt streaked across his cheek. "Though I must admit…you're pretty hot when you're filthy."

"Was that supposed to flattering?" Ichigo said softly, feeling his sticky hair blow back from his face slightly. Looking up at the sky, he found that the sun had disappeared behind some dark clouds that were moving swiftly across the landscape. It wouldn't be long before he wasn't just sitting in mud, but sitting in mud in the rain. "I told you to go away."

"It'll take more than a stern warning to make me leave, your Majesty. Besides…you don't really want me to go."

"I don't?" Ichigo countered, looking down at himself disgustedly, feeling water seep through the seat of his pants and soak into his boxers. This was nasty. "I feel like I pissed my pants or something."

"Piss your pants often, do you? I can arrange that if you want," the hollow prompted "helpfully", once more rubbing softly against the inside of Ichigo's mind. "And no, you don't. I'm in your head…remember?"

"You could go to hell and I'd be so happy," Ichigo muttered, finally getting unsteadily to his feet and looking around. Yuzu was nowhere in sight as Ichigo trudged his way through the mud towards the small outcropping of tiny greenhouses that the redhead assumed held more strawberry plants that weren't old enough to be planted yet. Before he could reach them however, soft rain began falling on his head, warm and gentle on his skin and hair as he paused outside the planting beds.

"Feels good," he murmured to himself, allowing the falling rain to wash away a little of the sticky mud off his bare arms and soak his hair. Continuing his walk, he found himself in front of one of the greenhouses, a growing puddle of water at his feet as he gazed down into it dazedly.

At first all he could see was his own reflection, staring back at him through the ever-changing surface of the puddle, but then…something began to change. His reflection's eyes began to bleed black, Ichigo's hand shooting to his own face to ensure that he wasn't actually changing, searching his skin for the mask that he was afraid had suddenly appeared. When he found that nothing was actually happening he let out a soft sigh of relief, cocking his head to stare down at the, now fully-formed, apparition in the puddle's glassy surface.

"Worried Aibou?" Shirosaki whispered softly, running his index finger along his bottom lip in the puddle. The hollow paused, eyebrows coming together as he examined Ichigo in the reflection, shaking his head at what he found. "You're gross. Have you looked at yourself?"

"I don't want to hear shit about being gross from someone like you," Ichigo replied, moving to step over the puddle and into the greenhouse to get out of the rain. He was stopped by a sudden motion in the hollow below him, narrowing his gaze to see what his other half could possibly want other than to cause problems.

"Aren't you going to invite me out to play?" he purred softly, pale eyebrow raising in questioning. "You're a fuckin' terrible date for royalty, you know that? I'm starting to feel neglected."

Ichigo could feel a headache forming behind his eyes as he watched his inner hollow cross his arms in the puddle, the rain becoming more insistent as Ichigo brushed the wet hair from his forehead. He had very few options available to him at this point. If he didn't pull the hollow out of the reflection than he'd never get any peace today…and if he did…he still wouldn't get any peace but at least he wouldn't feel so ridiculous talking to some strange voice in his head.

Choices, choices…

"Fine," Ichigo conceded, reaching down towards the puddle as Shirosaki reached up, their fingertips touching in the middle. It took only a moment to drag the hollow up into the real world, pushing him backwards through the doorway to the greenhouse before anyone could really notice him. Shirosaki wasn't the sort of person that was easy to ignore…he stood out like a sore thumb. "But I'm warning you hollow, don't cause trouble out here or I'll stomp you down like a roach."

"Oh that was terribly clever of you," Shiro said, gazing back over his shoulder with a roll of his golden eyes. "You're a regular William Shakespeare."

With a long-winded sigh, Ichigo shut the glass door of the greenhouse with a decisive click and turned to look at his surroundings. The house was very small, with three long tables set up, one on either side and one down the middle. Each table was overflowing with long vines, strawberry blooms trailing down towards the floor. It was hotter in there than it was outside, nearly stifling in its intensity, steam gathering at the top of the glass structure to drip slowly down the sides. The smell, however, was comforting…or at least it was to Ichigo. It smelled of life, of dirt, of hot growing things, but mostly it smelled like flowers. No strawberries would be found here, only the new beginnings of new plants.

Ichigo's attention was drawn away from the plants and onto his companion as Shirosaki turned and jumped to sit on one of the tables, his sword (Ichigo hated calling it Zangetsu) flopping down beside him as the table shook under the sudden strain. He braced his arms to either side of his body, fingers splaying out on the table as his fingernails scraped the surface, contemplating Ichigo slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he seemed to be thinking of the right thing to say. The hollow's gaze was intense, Ichigo finding himself unable to keep his body from shifting uncomfortably as he tried to ignore the fact that he was being studied like a butterfly in a jar.

"What?" he finally spat out, crossing his arms over his chest defensively and taking a step backward. "What's so damn interesting?"

Shirosaki grinned then, a spreading of perfect white teeth as he leaned back onto his elbows, knocking a few pots off in the process to the dirt floor below. Raising his hand up, he crooked a black-nailed finger at Ichigo, raising an eyebrow as he motioned for the shinigami to come closer. Ichigo scoffed loudly at that, pointing accusingly at the hollow as he tried to contain his temper. Getting angry at Shiro had never worked before and it probably wouldn't start accomplishing his goals now.

Though Ichigo was still working out what those goals were.

"Oh hell no," Ichigo hissed. "I'm not getting any closer to you. As soon as it stops raining I'm going back outside and you're going to have to play by yourself."

"Not that I wouldn't enjoy that under the right circumstances," Shiro said with a distorted snicker. "But I came out to play with you. You're lonely. I can tell."

"Whatever," Ichigo responded, looking pointedly at the out the glass walls as the rain continued to pour down the outside surface. The sound, usually such a soft pattering of water, was loud in such a small space, making it seem more intimate than it really should have. Much to Ichigo's displeasure, he realized suddenly that if someone looked at this greenhouse that they wouldn't be able to see in. The rain was too heavy. There was too much steam on the glass. It was like there were curtains all over the walls, thick and white.

It was like the two of them were sheathed in a very private room, completely cut off from the outside world…at least for now. Though Ichigo didn't understand why he was so uneasy about the privacy, considering the two of them shared the same body and that was about as private as you could get.

Once again Shiro motioned for Ichigo to come closer, sitting up and looking slightly exasperated. It had been months of these annoying little games between them, all the give and take that made Shirosaki feel as though somewhere along the lines they'd gotten married and this was some kind of strange "romantic" relationship. Of course, if that were the case, Ichigo was by far the most prude, stingy wife ever born.

Then again…perhaps he just needed a nudge in the right direction.

"God, what do you want?" Ichigo finally relented, stomping up to his mirror reverse and pausing. He usually didn't like to be quite this close to the hollow, finding himself oddly out of sorts every time he was. It wasn't fear, he knew that much. Fear was like a choking pressure against his chest and throat, stifling and thick. This sensation was more like a shudder moving through his body, making his heart rate rise and his head go fuzzy. It wasn't exactly unpleasant, but it was entirely foreign to him, which was the exact reason why it made Ichigo suspicious.

"You act like I'm going to kill you," Shiro laughed, that manic giggle of his that made Ichigo's teeth clench together painfully. When Ichigo leaned back, raising an eyebrow at the hollow's statement, Shirosaki only laughed harder. "Okay, yeah…I see your point. But not right now. I have absolutely no interest in killing you…right now."

With that the hollow spread his legs slightly, reaching forward and behind Ichigo's thigh and pulled him forward until Ichigo could come no closer . One white-clad leg wrapped around the teenager's leg holding him in place; Shiro's free hand reached backward, fingers closing around the hilt of his sword and pulling it around. Narrowing his eyes as he eyed Ichigo again, he began tugging at the thick silken cloth that wrapped snugly around Zangetsu's blade, finally getting it free.

Upon seeing the hollow reach for his sword Ichigo instantly struggled a bit against the hold he was. There was no way he was going to just stand there while the monster in his head cut the shit out of him! He had nearly got himself free before he really took a good look at what Shirosaki was doing, finally realizing that nothing bad was actually happening. There was no point to wasting the energy when he wasn't in any danger. At least that's what he kept telling himself as he watched Shirosaki untangle the black cloth and move his hand upwards towards Ichigo's face. There was no other reason why he wouldn't pull away.

Right? Right.

"What are you doing?" Ichigo said, a slight quiver to his voice that he found intensely humiliating as he continued to watch.

"You have mud on your face. I have a reputation to keep and you looking like you roll in filth isn't going to improve it."

With that he began to wipe at the mud on Ichigo's face with the soft cloth of Zangetsu's hilt, rubbing in wider and wider circles as the teenager swayed back and forth with the motions. Shirosaki's face was rapt, staring hard at the spot on the shinigami's cheek where he was working, his thumb brushing over the tip of Ichigo's nose from time to time with the intensity of the hollow's motions. It seemed to be taking him forever to finish, and in all actuality he had long ago removed most of the mud. Now he was simply indulging in the feeling of his "king's" soft skin, wondering what the fuck he could possibly be thinking.

"Shit, stop…you're going to rub my face off," Ichigo complained softly, reaching up to grab the hollow's wrist and hold it still. There was a moments hesitation before their skin met, Ichigo's narrowed gaze twitching slightly as he held the golden gaze in front of him. Silence descended upon them as he sucked in a deep breath, blinking a few times but not removing the hand from his face. For a few seconds he almost thought that the hollow was somehow controlling his body, but he knew that wasn't the case.

Ichigo simply wasn't moving. He was in control and he didn't really want to move.

For Shirosaki's part, he was trying desperately to figure out where the hell he'd went wrong. He hadn't started this with these intentions, he hadn't wanted it to take a turn in this direction…but Ichigo was staring at him like he was in a some kind of strange haze and it was (for once) not bothering him. Usually when Ichigo started staring off into space it pissed him off to no end. Mainly because during those moments they usually wound up getting slashed to all hell by some enemy intent on removing their limbs.

It was nearly always a stupid liability…like a lot of what Ichigo said and did. But this…this wasn't a liability. This was just them.

"Hey, your highness," Shiro grinned, smoothly removing his wrist from the teen's grip and running his index finger along his cheek until he paused at his bottom lip, pushing it downwards without any sort of complaint from the shinigami. "When Inoue almost kissed you, did you blush?"

That startled Ichigo, who had up until that precise second been unnaturally absorbed in the moment, his senses fogged and unable to clear them. The statement made him snap to attention, blinking stupidly for a moment as his brain processed the information. Orihime had tried to kiss him? When? Had he not noticed? How does one simply pass over something like one of their closest friends trying to kiss them? Was that even possible?

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Ichigo exclaimed, wrenching his face away from the pale hand, but not completely moving away. The hollow had the good grace to look almost embarrassed, his golden eyes widening slightly as if he had just realized something. One of his hands moved to the side of Ichigo's leg, fingernails scraping along the fabric as a nefarious smile spread across his face and turned his face to the side to laugh.

"Oh my…I have awful manners…such a cad," Shirosaki said mockingly. "You were asleep…I had totally forgotten. Lucky for you, I never really sleep."

Head still turned to the side, his eyes nonetheless slid to Ichigo's confused face, reveling in the joy of making his king so terribly bewildered. Emotions were passing over the young face, one after another. Confusion, displeasure, annoyance, disbelief, embarrassment…and Shirosaki could have sworn he saw a bit of vague revulsion in that amber gaze. Ichigo never hid his emotions in his expressions, always laid his feelings out for the entire world to see.

It was one of his greater flaws…though right now Shirosaki was glad for it. It made playing with him easier.

"I think you should have kept that to yourself," Ichigo said, annoyed, pushing his finger into the middle of Shirosaki's chest. "What possible good did it do to tell me other than to make me really really uncomfortable around Orihime?"

"Well I thought you should know how close you were to your first kiss," Shirosaki said with a coy laugh, looking down at the finger poking him in the chest with interest. He didn't particularly like it, but at the same time the touch was welcome. His own hand moved from Ichigo's leg to wrap around the teen's wrist this time, mirroring the action the shinigami had performed previously. The other pale hand moved to the small of that slightly tan back, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, feeling the dampness from the rain and sweat. Shirosaki stopped there, making no outward motions, his eyes becoming slightly lidded and heavy.

"It's a shame to see those lips stay virgin," the hollow purred, his distorted voice low in the enclosed space.

Ichigo, by this point, was nearly panicking. Common sense was telling him to back up and run out the door, rain or no rain…but his body and thoughts wouldn't cooperate. Each thought was centered on the way that his breath was coming in more and more shallow, the light-headed feeling that was accompanying it. In his entire life he'd never felt something quite like this. It was as though all his base emotions were suddenly out of control, and he was having a tough time reining them in.

In all honesty…it was terribly unfair. The hollow was inside his head, was the entity most closely tied to him, could infer his every thought and emotion without question. It was incredibly hard to hide things from him, almost impossible. Of course he would be the one to most easily be able to set off these intense reactions within Ichigo. Every fiber of their beings were intimately tied together, melding them in ways that other people simply didn't have. It was terribly unfair…

Perhaps that was the reason that Ichigo was slowly allowing his fingers to splay against the hollow's chest, the other hand coming to rest on a white-clad shoulder, leaning down and moving his head to the side. His eyes were already partially closed when he stopped, hesitation making him second guess himself, staring down into the face almost identical to his own. The hollow was waiting rather patiently, the fingers on his spine moving slowly, encouragingly, seemingly able to linger in that state forever until Ichigo had made up his mind.

"I don't think this is right," Ichigo murmured, feeling the hand around his wrist tighten fractionally. "I know its not."

Shirosaki's face broke out in a wide grin, letting go of Ichigo's wrist and moving it back behind the teen's neck, brushing at the short hairs he found there. Ichigo shivered, much to the hollow's delight, and his breath rushed out to fan at Shiro's face. Delicious. If he'd known the king was that sensitive he would have done this ages ago. It wasn't as though it had never crossed his mind.

"Oh its not," the hollow said, tugging gently at Ichigo, losing his patience. "But do it anyway."

Shirosaki watched as more emotions played across that perfect face. Uncertainty seemed to be winning out until finally Ichigo's eyes narrowed briefly and he found his resolve, closing the distance between the two of them and allowing their lips to touch. The hollow had wanted it to be this way. Now Ichigo could never say that the hollow had somehow coerced him into this. He could never act like he'd been forced. It had been the shinigami's decision…and that made this little victory that much sweeter.

However…victory was just about the last thing on Shiro's mind. First and foremost was the way Ichigo was moving his lips against his own, shy, unpracticed, absolutely innocent. It was about as close to immaculate as Shirosaki had ever been in the presence of, a brushing of lips more than a full-blown kiss, meant to investigate and test the waters rather than to bring pleasure. That would have to change.

When Ichigo pulled away, only a few inches, Shirosaki opened his eyes (that he couldn't remember closing) and smiled. It couldn't end just like that, could it? He wanted Ichigo to remember this, think about it when he was alone in his room, be able to remember the feel of Shiro's lips, the taste, the smell, the emotions. He wanted this to haunt his kings memories like nothing ever had in his entire life.

And he wanted him to come back for more…

"My turn," he murmured and pulled their lips back together, standing up and pulling them flush together. Ichigo made a small sound of surprise as his lips were teased open, not resisting when a blue tongue stealthily brushed past white teeth and sampled what lay behind. The teen tasted of water, as though Shirosaki had plunged his head into a stream and taken a long drink, something absolutely clean. It was completely unexpected, though not unappreciated. He'd anticipated something retarded like candy or mint. This was much better.

This kiss lasted longer, Ichigo finally beginning to make soft sounds in his throat that prompted the hollow to pull away and trail his mouth along the stubborn jaw line until he reached Ichigo's ear. He paused there, biting at the lobe as he felt the teen's hands clench into fists at his sides and then reach up, cradling Shirosaki's head against him, breaths coming out more and more quickly. The paler male was effectively trapped where he was, but his hands trailed up Ichigo's shirt, scraping his nails back down lightly and reveling in the shudder he received in return.

"We could destroy each other so easily this way…do you realize that? The most devastating way to obliterate someone is to grow attached to them." Shirosaki breathed the words into Ichigo's ear, but the teen's grip only grew stronger around him, pulling him a little closer if that were even possible. Did his king not care? Wasn't he worried?

Then again…this king had always allowed his instincts to lead him (as defective as they oftentimes were). This was no exception.

Everything felt hazy, Ichigo decided, as he practically purred at the mouth doing indescribable things to his ear, lips still tingling from the kisses. Each motion of the hollow made a shock go down into his stomach, heat gathering in every nerve in his body, centering in his groin and making him want to moan. He held it back though, not wanting to give Shirosaki the pleasure of getting to him so easily. It was already obvious that he had…he didn't need any help feeling smug about the situation.

And he was right. This was probably the way that the hollow would finally destroy him, but this was a double-edged sword. If Shiro decimated Ichigo this way, he would in turn annihilate himself. Attachment wasn't an option at this point. They were past that. They were entwined, body and soul. It was terrifying.

And this was probably the best Ichigo had ever felt.

"Shut up," Ichigo murmured, sharply dragging the pale mouth back to his own and forcing his mouth open. He smiled when Shirosaki made a small noise of surprise, fingers digging into the waistband of Ichigo's pants and pulling their hips together, forcing the teen to finally give up the moan he'd been holding back. So good. The sensation could be described only as heat, blissful, gorgeous heat that pulsed up and down his body and made him shiver. Anticipation was eating at his thoughts, reservations falling away as he pushed down the common sense trying to get him to stop.

In fact, only one thing was spoiling this rare and intense moment, and that was the steadily increasing volume of a call…a voice coming closer that he simply could not ignore without imminent embarrassment.

"Ichi-nii!? Where are you?" Yuzu was calling, her soft voice raising in the open air.

Ichigo pulled away from Shirosaki, noticing with a small surge of pride that the hollow was panting slightly, his eyes vaguely glazed over, his lips just a little swollen. If that was how Ichigo looked, than he was going to have a tough time explaining himself to Yuzu. But that didn't matter. All that mattered was dislodging himself from his replica before his little sister could find them in this embrace.

"She has horrible timing," Shirosaki pouted, kissing at the corner of Ichigo's mouth, nipping at his cheek with a grin. "But I think we're just about done here…for now. I have a feeling you'll think about this for a while, no?"

With that he gently pushed Ichigo away, snickering in his manic way as he surveyed the boy in front of him. He was absolutely disheveled, muddy and looking thoroughly ravaged. It's a good look for Ichigo, who is usually so very prude and perfectly groomed. However, now was not the time to be admiring him, now was the time to push his dumb ass out the door and get that dazed look off his face.

"Better go, your highness," he said, turning Ichigo around and pushing him towards the door. The teen complained and squirmed a bit, but he nevertheless allowed himself to be shoved forward. Before he reached the door however, Shirosaki pressed himself against the shinigami's back, wrapping his arms around that trim waist and snaking his hand up the front of Ichigo's shirt to run along the sculpted muscles of his stomach.

"Oh," he whispered into Ichigo's ear, grinning as Ichigo's head fell back onto his shoulder, those eyes glazing over again. "And start thinking of something cold or disgusting, because if your sister sees that damn boner you're sporting she's going to either get suspicious or traumatized."

With that he slapped Ichigo's ass and shoved him out the door, pointedly ignoring the blush and look of death that the teen shot over his shoulder at him.

Before he vanished safely back into the confines of Ichigo's mind, he slowly looked up at the sky, noticing how the summer clouds that had been so violent only a few minutes before were now rolling off into the distance, disappearing into the horizon.

A sign? Who knew. Really, who cared?

Hating the rain was Zangetsu's department anyway…