A/N: Hello there! I decided to split the original version of "Eat You Alive" into half, because I was told very long chapters discourage some people from following a story since reading through them takes a lot of time. This also means I'm going to update more frequently in the future. ;)
Warning: Rated M for quite detailed smut (YAOI - boy X boy, violence, blood, nasty language). If you don't like stuff like that or if your country's national laws don't allow you to look at it, please stop reading. Not suitable for readers under the age of at least 16!
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach and I didn't get paid for writing this fanfiction.
[1] Eat You Alive (B)
[ ... ]
At the same time, Ichigo had no clue what he had done to upset the strange, still vaguely familiar guy in front of him. He only knew for sure that he didn't want him to be upset. Deep inside his heart, the sixteen-year-old ached to please everybody, to protect everyone, to make people around him happy. Usually, he buried this naive wish underneath his tough exterior; the drunkenness had turned that sorry heart of his inside out. Now, he couldn't stand another accusatory look directed towards him. As he suddenly closed the gap between his face and its milky-white copy, all the Substitute Shinigami wanted was to calm down the man he seemed to have annoyed, to quieten his suspicions, to apologize somehow for whatever he'd done wrong. Since he found himself unable to put this desire into words, he had nothing else left but his body to express it.
The Vasto Lorde stood frozen in place when the disturbing warmth of Kurosaki's trembling lips met his own chilling, though perfectly smooth ones. He had at least a faint idea what made the boy act so crazy - nevertheless, this move had caught him completely off-guard. As far as he'd heard, alcohol got humans to overcome their inhibitions. That, however, did not necessarily mean it made them fondle and kiss evil spirits . . . unless doing so was a stifled, urgent need of the person in question. Now it was for the Hollow to blink at the teenager who still kept desperately kissing him in an almost submissive, pleading way. So this was another suppressed instinct of his?
The ghostly white figure raised a slender hand and locked its colorless, taloned fingers tightly around Ichigo's nape. Without loosening his rough, surprisingly forceful grip in the least, he pulled his supposed king away from himself to drag his entirely defenseless human body down onto the bed. Snickering in his typical, unnerving manner, he slowly unclenched his grasp once the orange-haired boy had ceased every bit of his already poor initial resistance and obeyed the unspoken command by lying down on his back without any appreciable struggling. The mere thought that he could break Kurosaki's frail spine right now with just a casual wave of his hand caused him to laugh in sheer amusement. When the Vasto Lorde withdrew his fingers from the Substitute Shinigami's neck, his claws carelessly scratched the tender skin there, leaving reddened lines and eliciting a soft groan from tonight's prey. That was going to be fun . . .
Through sinking eyes, Ichigo watched the stranger who was yet so familiar bend over him to continue their kiss. Somewhere inside his dazed mind he could hear every alarm bell ringing and his senses screaming, telling him to get away. However, these cold, but amazingly soft lips felt far too good against his own to let go of them. Longing for more of the tingling feeling stirred up by the deep, possessive kiss, Ichigo simply gave in to it and obediently parted his lips, tilting his head back into the sheets. The Hollow didn't hesitate to slide his blueish tongue into the warm, awaiting mouth - as soon as he did so, he noticed the acrid smack of booze. A second later, he had decided that he didn't like it.
The teenager beneath him flinched reflexively as sharp teeth abruptly bit into his lower lip and refused to let go until he could taste blood. The coppery, bittersweet flavor seemed to appeal to the Vasto Lorde much more: He started to lick off every last drop of the bright red liquid, sucking at the slightly bleeding wound to make it bleed even worse. Once the brief flash of pain had faded away, it cleared the way for a different kind of thrill which captivated the boy's dulled senses in an instant and ultimately silenced his already quiet voice of reason. Although his lower lip still hurt, he brushed it against its milky-white counterpart and drowned his hoarse moan within the harsh kiss. Since the deadly pale hands pinned down Kurosaki's shoulders - claws carving into the blanket's fabric -, they couldn't stop the Substitute Shinigami from burying his fingers in the long, silver-white hair, disheveling the silky strands flowing all around their frames.
When the Vasto Lorde finally let go of the swollen lips which were caked with blood by then, he was nowhere near satisfied - if anything, he was hungering for more. Trailing down the teenager's chin, the azure tongue slid across the delicate skin of his throat - right before those teeth sunk in again, piercing through the soft flesh, shedding fresh blood just to feast on its flavor and heat once more. This time, the pang was stronger than before, acute enough to make Ichigo wince despite his intoxication. Even so, he grabbed the pure white figure's back to pull him closer instead of pushing him away, unwilling to abandon the physical connection between them. He wasn't sure himself if he moaned in pleasure or still groaned in pain as the evil spirit lustfully began to lick and suck the superficial injuries.
After the orange-haired boy had dragged him down to his heavily rising and falling chest, the Hollow couldn't hold his balance any longer while standing upright; he had to lift up his knee and put it on the edge of the bed, directly between Kurosaki's thighs. With this leg, covered by snow-white, silken cloth pressing against his crotch, the Substitute Shinigami couldn't help realizing that his boxers had gotten at least one size too small during the last minutes . . . and there was a quite tangible tendency that they would lack two sizes soon.
Meanwhile, the colorless, smooth lips - alternately caressing and tantalizing his neck, leaving visible marks on the tender, tanned skin - reached the T-shirt's neckline which refused them admittance to the shapely torso below. The Vasto Lorde let out a brutish, disapproving snarl and suddenly straightened himself, raising one of his taloned hands to slash through that annoying piece of clothing and tear it in half. Of course, the pointed claws didn't only cut the fabric but also badly scratched Ichigo's chest from one collar bone to the opposing pelvic bone, making him yelp and jolt up in shock. The Hollow, who was already growing impatient, didn't waste much thought on that. He easily managed to force the struggling human body down with one hand, using the other one to peel the shredded cloth off the teenager's shoulders. His boxers shared this fate a moment later, bringing the orange-haired boy a few more claw marks across the outsides of his hips and thighs.
The bloodied rags ended up somewhere on the floor, before chilly, milky-white fingers grabbed Kurosaki's legs to pull them onto the bed. Effortlessly spreading his knees apart, the Vasto Lorde took a seat between them. His once pristine coat and Hakama were dyed red with the Substitute Shinigami's blood by now. Ichigo hadn't calmed down yet: As mentally deranged as he was by this point, he couldn't tell apart the thrill induced by his spontaneous panic from the excitement caused by his growing sexual arousal. His frantic, though futile sudden resistance became a nuisance, making the Hollow bend over him again to plant a rash kiss on his restlessly mumbling mouth to seal it.
Astonishingly enough, it worked: Little by little, the teenager stopped moving his limbs and slowly relaxed his tense muscles. As soon as he lay still again, the ghostly white figure let go of him and abandoned his sore lips to dedicate the blueish tongue to his blood-smeared torso, listening to the vivid, unfamiliar human heartbeat from inside. Accidentally, it touched one of his stiffened nipples, eliciting a hoarse gasp from the already softly panting boy. That stifled noise made the Vasto Lorde snicker and run the tip of his tongue over this sensitive spot again, tasting both sweet blood and salty sweat.
Unable to focus on anything any longer, Kurosaki clung to the previously snow-white, now bloodstained silk of the fur-collared coat, unsuccessfully trying to strip it off. Chuckling even harder at his desperate attempts, the Hollow pushed the fumbling hands away to take his clothes off himself, exposing his bare upper body. Six black, curved lines - three on each side - ran from his neck and shoulders to the yawning hole in the middle of his pale chest, which served as an undeniable proof of what he was. Ichigo had a long close look at the lithe frame, which was lean but with muscles as well-defined as his own. Blinking, he peered hard at the circular hole piercing it. He knew that it should ring a bell inside his mind, that he should recognize it as something . . . suspicious. It spelled trouble - he just couldn't remember why.
His tangled thoughts immediately flew out the window when he felt ice-cold fingertips brushing against his hot, rock-hard member. The slight, very light touch caused it to twitch and leak a few drops of precum. He hadn't the faintest notion how he'd gotten that turned on - even so, he couldn't see a necessity to question it anymore: The number of things he had no clue about seemed to increase with every waking minute since he had entered his room. The Vasto Lorde placed the palm of his hand across the boy's moist cock and pressed it down against the visibly tensed stomach beneath it. He was totally aware that a scratch of his claws in this place would make the Substitute Shinigami literally jump up - perhaps he would have enjoyed provoking his alleged king in such a way at other times; now he found the alternative option to be much more hilarious.
His first slow, gentle stroke was enough to draw a throaty moan from Kurosaki's mouth and send an intense shiver down his straddled legs. Repeating this move a few more times, he furtively watched the blood-spattered teenager unconsciously flushing and panting, then closing his eyes and tilting his head back. When the Hollow proceeded to rub and push down firmer, Ichigo arched his back up vigorously and heavily gasped for breath - the well-toned and sweaty body squirming on the bed, restless fingers clenching the sheets.
It wasn't meant to last long the way the Vasto Lorde did it, eagerly awaiting the moment of the Substitute Shinigami's surrender. As relentless as he would have brought down an opponent in battle, he continued to drive tonight's prey over the edge. A little less than two minutes later, the young and inexperienced boy couldn't help but give himself over to the tingling sensation building up inside his belly and his balls: He screamed with pleasure as he came on his stomach and the snowy hand which had just jerked him off with pitiless efficiency. When he tried to open his brown eyes, his vision greyed out for the most part. He merely heard that unnerving giggle again, now accompanied by an eerily purring undertone which didn't fit the sound of the distorted voice in the least.
Silently rustling, the silk of the spooky stranger's already untied Hakama came down his slim hips with no more than a careful nudge of his fingertips. The sheer fabric revealed another half-hard cock - and no one was more surprised about that than its owner. The Hollow was well aware of the fact that there were others of his kind who regularly enjoyed fooling around with their Fracción. He, however, had never bothered with getting a Fracción himself - let alone fucking one. He hadn't seen any benefit in that: It couldn't have given him more fun and thrill than a good fight, yet it would have been more difficult to come by in Hueco Mundo. Snorting disdainfully, he acknowledged to himself that things were different since he'd merged his spirit with the Substitute Shinigami's soul. His opportunities to charge into any noteworthy battle had become very rare lately. Most of the time he was bored to death while hanging around inside the teenager's bleak inner world, stuck with the damn freezing rain that was driving him crazy there.
All of a sudden, a wide grin spread across his face. If this was supposed to be his only compensation for the whole trouble - why not give it a shot, especially now that it was so willingly offered to him? Moreover, he liked the fascinating sight the orange-haired boy presented in more than one way. The kid was virtually screwed, completely at his mercy and, above all, deeply devoted to those basic instincts and desires which were carefully locked up most of the time.
At this point, Ichigo was drugged with alcohol as well as with fatigue, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. He felt like he was caught in the middle of an unbelievably weird dream - his body wasted, scratched up and covered with partially dried blood, but tingling and burning with his remaining arousal at the same time. Wretched and contented at the same time, he lay back without any more struggling. Meanwhile, the Vasto Lorde between Kurosaki's widely spread thighs slid his soiled hand up and down his own member. During the process, he also moistened it incidentally, which was quite a bit of luck for the teenager who was about to feel his prick inside.
As far gone as he was, the Substitute Shinigami didn't comprehend what was going on as his calves were flicked over the ghostly figure's milky-white, black-striped shoulders. Consequently, he suffered a very nasty surprise a second later when something really hard and - at least from his point of view - far too big rubbed against his butt right before it was impatiently pushed into his entrance, stretching that narrow ring of muscles much too quickly. Although his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, his senses weren't dull enough to not notice the searing pain flashing through his pelvis. Yelping, he tried to jolt up from the bed: He didn't get very far.
The Hollow - who was gasping himself, surrounded by the boy's unbearably tight, clutching heat to the hilt - had no intention of letting him go so soon. Instinctively, he grabbed one of Ichigo's upper arms violently, slashing his razor-sharp claws into the frail human flesh without being aware of it. Pressing the teenager down into the sheets, he started to move his hips, to thrust repeatedly into that slim, luscious ass since restraint and consideration for others were entirely alien to his kind. Kurosaki's breath was taken away by the violent pain numbing his mind for the moment; he recognized nothing but the warmth and wetness of his blood streaming across his feverish skin, dripping onto the bed. He didn't even hear his winded outcry which was choked by icy, smooth lips forcing themselves onto his, because he was about to bring the whole neighborhood to the scene.
From this new position above the convulsing body beneath him, the Vasto Lorde pierced the Substitute Shinigami at a different angle the next time he bumped inside. What followed was a direct hit to a spot which made the teenager shoot his almost fully bent hips up further, an electric sensation suddenly rousing him from the shock triggered by the physical agony. Frantically moaning and shaking like a leaf, he buried his heated, flushed face against the crook of the chilly neck in front of him. The snow-white figure, which was also panting and shivering by now, just didn't stop thrusting into his tensed up butt, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, squeezing and rubbing his re-awakening cock between their bellies with every move.
Spontaneously wrapping his blood-smeared arms around the Substitute Shinigami's shoulders, the Hollow was on the brink of losing it, too. The more Ichigo cramped, the harder it became to push inside him. But despite that, he felt an urge to penetrate him faster and deeper, although the insane strength and speed of his strokes already rocked the whole bed. With a raucous snarl, he rammed himself forward a few more times, causing the boy to toss and turn on the ruffled and bloodied blanket.
When Kurosaki climaxed for the second time that night, his muscles clenching even tighter than before, he also took the Vasto Lorde over the edge without realizing it at all: He spurted inside him, dizzily freezing in place afterwards - temporarily unable to catch his noisy breath. The teenager beneath him almost seemed to pass out, sinking into the blanket - if his familiar Reiatsu hadn't still hovered in the air around him, one could have taken him for dead. The gaping wound in his upper arm was bleeding and he looked as if he'd gotten pretty well smashed up during the last hour. The Hollow slowly lowered his head to lick off some more of the warm, red liquid which had already spilled across the skin.
From the corner of his glowing golden eye, he cast a glance out of the window next to the bed, watching the pale moon in the dark nighttime sky, high above the disturbing lights of Karakura town. With the taste of blood on his azure tongue and a view of that bright, beautiful moon, he almost felt at home . . .
[- to be continued -]