I miss the bad things,
the way you hate me.
I miss the screaming,
the way that you blame me.

I like the kick in the face
and the things you do to me.
I love the way that it hurts.
I don't miss you, I miss the misery.


Ikkaku was so fucked.

So, not only had he had this 'problem' and had his masculinity completely obliterated in front of Yumichika – because he was sure that Yumichika had noticed, I mean, how could he not have? but he'd also missed out on a golden opportunity. Yumichika had been waiting for it. Yumichika had spread his legs for him after the crap he'd pulled in that freezer, and Ikkaku hadn't been able to do anything about it.

He was never leaving his house again. He was gonna' dig a really deep hole in the fucked-up patch of the parking lot behind the liquor store, lay down inside it, and then bury himself until everyone forgot that he'd ever been born, mostly Yumichika. God, Yumichika probably thought he had fucking erectile dysfunction or something. Fucking fuck! He was so mad.

He glared down at his crotch and resisted the urge to punch it. Fucking traitor. It won't go down at work when Yumichika's leaning on the counter, but it won't go up when it's actually supposed to. God, he hates himself! He never should've lost his temper that day. If he hadn't, everything would've worked out.

Okay, that's not true, because if he hadn't lost his cool, he was sure that he wouldn't have gotten through to Yumichika. He was pretty sure it was those kind words he'd said afterwards about what you do when you love someone, but Yumichika probably wouldn't have been willing to listen if he hadn't literally fucked him up. So, as bad as it sounded, that little dubious-assault episode had been necessary to get Yumichika to open up his little heart to him, but in doing so, Ikkaku was emotionally fercocked, because, shit, Ikkaku felt like a predator now.

I mean, what the fuck did Yumichika think he was doing, being so sweet on their date? Who the fuck was Ikkaku to deserve that from him? It was like his dick was fucking punishing him for thinking that what he'd done that day was okay or something, because he couldn't even masturbate in the privacy of his home after he'd ran out of Yumichika's house that night. He really and truly couldn't get it up and it was seriously the worst thing.

So even if he'd tried to bypass his guilt and ignore it, he was literally physically unable to, because his dick had some sort of 'you-may-not-proceed-until-passing-go-three times' stamp on it. This was the worst.

It freaking sucked to have your new sexy boyfriend in your face all the time and not be able to do shit about it without fucking embarrassing yourself. God, this was awful.

Why couldn't Ikkaku just feel something?

Ikkaku curled inwards like a broken accordian, letting out this high-pitched strangled noise, realizing that he'd forgotten that he'd been trying to get himself hard. He'd drifted off into thought and had gotten so pissed that he'd made a tight fist around his crotch. What a fucking idiot. It was a good thing he was gay and out of the gene pool, because no child deserved to have such a stupid DNA donor. Who does that? Who just gets so pissed that they squeeze that hard? He couldn't believe that Yumichika had been about to let him inside. That was sad to the point that it wasn't funny.

Laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling, knees against his chest and hands rubbing his sore parts, Ikkaku remembered how turned on he'd been before, how hard he'd gotten when they were in that freezer together, and he was starting to think that maybe… maybe the reason he couldn't get it up now was because he had been somehow turned on by the idea of Yumichika being unwilling… and now that Yumichika was willing, the desire was gone.

Ever since they'd officially gotten together, Ikkaku had fallen hard for Yumichika, worse than he had when they'd first met. Now that he got why Yumichika did the things that he did, his patience reservoirs were considerably larger than they were before, and as such, he could never forgive himself for losing his temper that time. At the time, he hadn't been able to control himself, he'd just been so mad, so hurt, but now... now, the guilt made him feel... lukewarm.

The whole fire of their relationship before had been based on them fighting and trying to verbally wound the other, and now that that was gone, now that things were sweet and emotionally satisfying… what if Ikkaku couldn't make love to him? What if Ikkaku could only get turned on by the idea of it being dubious? What if Ikkaku wanted to hurt him, actually? Maybe that was why he couldn't get hard when Yumichika was crying in pleasure and not pain. Maybe he wanted it to be pain. Did he want to rape the guy?

The idea horrified him. Not just of raping Yumichika, but the fact that he might actually want to.

That can't be right. That's not who he is, right? He's not like that. Ikkaku doesn't want that, right? He swallowed sickly, because he didn't know what else it could be. It hadn't been because he was nervous, it hadn't been because he'd been unsure of the circumstance. No, he'd lost his hard-on because it had seemed too easy.

Did he need Yumichika to struggle for it to arouse him?

What was worse was that he had the sick suspicion that Yumichika wanted it that way too, that he wanted to be held down and forced or something and that his mind was seeking out someone who would be cruel to him. Maybe that's why Yumichika was so loving to him now that he'd cracked and been so rough that first time.

So Ikkaku wanted to assault him, and Yumichika wanted him to do it? Which one of them was more fucked up in the head?

Ikkaku didn't really want that, right? It just seemed so... morally reprehensive that a relationship could be built on hate-sex. It turned his stomach just thinking about it. There was no way he could want it. He'd wanted it in the moment that first time, but now it seemed absolutely horrible and was probably what was keeping him limp all the time...

What if he couldn't get it up again unless the sex was violent?

God, he was gonna' throw up. Why couldn't he feel normal human desire that occurs naturally between lovers?! He wanted sweet vanilla sex, damnit! Not some sicko-rape-fantasy. He was gonna' make their real first time perfect, no matter what his dick had to say about it! The pressure was already starting to compile itself again. What was he gonna' do if he just couldn't ever do it with him? Would Yumichika dump him?

'I think maybe Viagra would-'

The phone rang and jolted Ikkaku out of his thoughts. Without thinking, he picked up and listened, forgetting to actually say anything when he heard who it was.

It was Yumichika.

His heart froze. Why was he calling? Was he trying to break things off? Was he trying to pity him maybe, to tell him it was okay that he was a pathetic excuse for a man who was missing his most important component to being a good lover? Yumichika had been the one who'd said that he could never satisfy anyone, and now it might really be true.

Fuck, he was in too deep. He had to feel something soon, or it might just be over between them. Yumichika surely wouldn't be patient about his predicament, and if he was, it might make Ikkaku feel even worse.

He'd waited so long to be with Yumichika - he had to do something about this, and quick!

"Hello?" he could hear his boyfriend ask, and Ikkaku just sat there in an embarrassed daze for a moment, before finally responding.

God, he felt so awkward.

"Uh, hey…"

"Let's go do something today, Duckie. I want to see you." Yumichika's tone was tentative and hopeful rather than snarky and demanding like always and it just made Ikkaku feel like a horrible person. How could he say no?

But, oh shit. Yumichika wanted to see him, which meant, well, that Yumichika would be seeing him so soon after that event of ultimate shame had happened. The last thing Ikkaku wanted to do was talk about it or think about it or wonder if Yumichika had been thinking about it. Ikkaku grit his teeth in panic, but before he could stop himself, his stupid mouth opened up and was talking. "Okay."

"Great," Yumichika said brightly, and Ikkaku cringed, feeling like an absolute jerk. He hated knowing that he'd finally gotten Yumichika to fall for him, but that he'd fallen for him because of his violent outburst. He wanted to go back in time and punch himself in the face. "Come by in an hour, okay?"

"Okay," he said again, fingers fisting in the carpet as he realized he'd just let things get even worse. Fuck, what would he say after that fiasco?! This date was going to be horrible. Yumichika was going to realize he was every bit of the jerky classless idiot he'd accused him of being for months.

Man, Ikkaku was a wreck.

Worse still, Ikkaku knew Yumichika probably wouldn't ever let him back into his bed again, and if he did, he didn't know if his little buddy was being reliable enough right now to really count on being able to show either of them a good time.

"Don't lemme' down, guy," he begged, looking down at the crotch of his jeans, which was still throbbing lightly from pain. Great. He was twenty six, in his apartment alone, had a gorgeous boyfriend who he was allowed to fuck but couldn't, and now he was talking to his own dick.

God, he was such a loser!


Ichigo was becoming seriously resentful and downright cranky now. Fuck Renji and his touching and his semi-nice words. He was just trying to get some, wasn't he? He was probably just waiting for Ichigo to let his guard down so he could leave a huge hickey and make sure everyone knew. Ichigo didn't want anyone to know. He needed a way out. Renji was cornering him, and you know what wounded animals do when they're pushed into a corner.

Well, if Renji was gonna' play that game, Ichigo could too. Passive-aggressive was his middle name, especially the aggressive part.

Renji was in boxer-shorts today, but had at least put on some sports-pants and a tank top when Ichigo had told him he wasn't getting lunch if he didn't. "This is actually pretty good. Not like the usual shit you make," Renji said, and Ichigo just glared. Renji said that every damn day.

"Why don't you make something for once?" he snapped, stuffing his face with turkey sandwiches and chips. God, he felt miserable if he was trying to drown his sorrows with food. Usually, Ichigo was one to lose his appetite if he was in distress.

"You make it sound like I never cook," Renji said flippantly, rolling his eyes and shoving the rest of his sandwich in his mouth, picking up the second one and pressing it together, because there had been too many ingredients for any normal human to take a bite safely. Sadly, these days when Ichigo saw Renji slam a burger like it was nothing, all he thought about was that he could fit other things in his mouth with no problem too. "I cook a lot, man. You're the one who doesn't eat it."

Ichigo was a little slow in responding to that. The truth was Renji's food was really good. He didn't make stuff that often, and it was never a full meal, but if he'd learned how to make something, he made it well and it put Ichigo's food to shame. Therefore, Ichigo had banned Renji from the kitchen except in special circumstances, like when Ichigo was so sick that he was at death's door.

Not to mention that he didn't want Renji in there while he was cooking, because he kept trying to hold him while he was stirring junk on the stovetop, and that was way too domestic for him. One of these days he was going to be taking something out of the oven and before you know it, he'd have to turn himself over to the cops because Renji would be dead from trying to grind on him, forgetting that he was holding a scalding hot pan and wasn't averse to using it.

"Whatever," Ichigo finally said, and Renji had that pleased-with-himself smug-ass grin on, and Ichigo wanted to wipe it right off with his shoe. He let out a long sigh, anger draining out of him. Maybe he should just try giving in… again. Who knows, he might like it, unlike those other times. He just didn't know what to do anymore.

"If you're so butt-hurt about it, I'll make something tonight. Chicken Marsala. Good?" Renji asked, mouth full of food.

"Literally the worst thing ever," Ichigo said back, when in reality, that sounded perfect. It turned out to be the best thing ever, and Ichigo spent the evening with his pants open, laying on the couch holding his gut.

Renji just grinned and sat on the carpet, flicking through the TV channels, repeatedly making comments about how it sure looked like Ichigo had enjoyed that thoroughly. "Shut up, I'm holding my stomach because it was so bad I'm about to throw up!"

"You ate three plates, man, you're not fooling me."

"Come closer and say that," Ichigo growled, and the threat was phrased like that because he didn't know if he could get up himself. He abruptly jerked back when he found Renji nose to nose with him, his smile completely open and normal rather than cocky like usual.

"You're not fooling me," Renji whispered, eyes drifting closed as he moved in to kiss him on the lips. Ichigo remained there for a minute, letting that hit him, as if Renji were telling him that no matter how much he tried to run from what he felt, it was there somewhere.

He was trapped.

If only Ichigo did feel something in there. He was becoming more uncertain by the day.

It was a cold hard fact that Ichigo was attracted to Renji and that he'd been heartbroken by the idea of them being friends-with-benefits or of Renji sleeping with other people, but now that things had worked out in his favor, he didn't exactly like this arrangement either. He wished Renji would go back to hiding his love.

That sounded so horrible, but it was the truth.

Maybe Renji didn't pick up on his bad vibes, because he moved onto the couch and sat next to him, holding his face and kissing him enthusiastically, but not so deeply that it turned into a make-out. Ichigo let him, his hands resting on his shoulders. The kisses felt good in a physical sort of way; they were soft and tickled slightly, warming him, but they didn't help him work out this mess in his heart. He couldn't explain kisses like this with lust, because there was no tongue, and Renji's eyes were sweetly closed and he was rubbing his back and hair like he was the last man on earth, the last man on his earth, the only one in his world.

Maybe it was true what they say about kissing someone with their eyes open. It means that they don't feel it, that they aren't lost in the sensation like you are, that they haven't longed for this. Ichigo had waited for a moment like this for a long time, but somehow, it didn't feel right to him. He still felt like he had to resist to keep his pride intact. If he just gave in to this love thing, what kind of man would people see him as? How would Renji think of him if he kept giving in? There was no way Renji could still see them as equals if he was the one on his back with his legs in the air.

Ichigo hated this.

Eventually Renji pulled back, eyes opening, a lock of hair having fallen forward between his eyebrows, tickling his nose almost like Rukia's hairstyle. Ichigo reached out and brushed it to the side, and Renji blinked reflexively, Ichigo's finger having brushed his eyelashes.

"Why aren't you kissing me back?" Renji asked in confusion, frowning lightly.

Why wasn't he? Shit, Ichigo had forgotten to respond, because of course Renji was eventually going to catch on that he was kissing a statue. Figuring that half-honesty was the best way to go, Ichigo pursed his lips and side-slitted his eyes, feeling Renji rubbing his neck. "… Mmm… I don't really feel like kissing right now."

Renji turned to the side and checked his breath in his hand real quick and made a noise when it proved satisfactory, frowning to Ichigo. "What's the matter?" he asked, and Ichigo kept being a flat-ass and shrugged.

"I just don't feel like kissing you, okay?"

"What the fuck, Ichigo?" Renji said suddenly, eyebrows scrunching up like that had personally offended him. Oh right, Renji was in love with him, and if you were in love, you're supposed to become sensitive or something. Then again, Ichigo knew he was kind of being a jerk and that hadn't been the nicest thing to say. He shouldn't let Renji suffer too much. Renji just had to stop kissing him slow like that and just get in his pants already like he obviously wanted to. Renji had only done this entire thing because Ichigo had made that comment about making him dinner before taking him to bed. Fucking sneak.

Ichigo's brow pinched and he held his hands up to appease Renji, remembering that the guy was starting to get upset about Ichigo neglecting touching him when he was trying to be sweet. "Okay, fine, alright," Ichigo said, and Renji gave a satisfied sigh when Ichigo scootched over into his embrace, fiercely wrapping his arms around Renji's neck, kissing him hard like it could make himself feel something if he tried to force it.

Renji grunted and pulled back slightly when Ichigo bit him, not matching his fervor, instead continuing with kissing him slow, finally slicking his tongue along Ichigo's lip and slipping inside. Ichigo made a strangled noise when it entwined with his own, effectively halting his efforts at getting Renji to snap and fuck him right there on the sofa. No, he could go weak from the pleasure of Renji fucking him, but not from Renji being soft on him like this. His pride would never recover.

"Hmmmm," Renji sighed, long and deep, like a lovesick teenager, leaning Ichigo down onto the couch on his back, hovering over him with his hands stroking his cheeks, body cradling his. Ichigo screwed his eyes shut, cringing inside. Everything about this put him off.

Ichigo whined and braced his forearm against Renji's chest, pinching his side, and Renji laughed a little against his mouth, not backing up, obviously thinking Ichigo was just joking because they both melted back into the kiss. Oh, how Ichigo hated this. He tried hard to get Renji to take it further, to slip his hands down into his pants finally, but they just kept drifting back over his chest and up to his face again. Renji was taking this ruse really far, because right now it didn't seem like he was trying to get him in the sack, and Ichigo was sure that was the guy's motive here. It had to be. The alternative was too horrible to fathom. Ichigo didn't want to accept it.

Renji eventually pulled away just slightly to pepper kisses along Ichigo's cheek, the side of his nose, beneath his eye, towards his ear. Fuck, Ichigo couldn't stand this.

Ichigo suddenly opened his eyes, realizing that Renji had leaned way back, sitting up, face obviously disgruntled and frustrated.

Ichigo sat up too, trying to drag him back in, but Renji batted his arm away, getting extremely direct then, "What the hell is with you? Why are you making that face?!" Renji shook his head slightly, looking into his eyes like he knew he'd been betrayed but wasn't sure exactly how yet. "I'm just trying to kiss you some, man, and you're acting like I'm torturing you."

Ichigo scowled. He must've dropped a tell or two. Renji kept going, not whining, but making his complaints known in an adult manner that made Ichigo feel like shit. "I'm doing everything I can to be nice to you, and all you do is throw it back in my face. I'm the one who told you from the start that you don't like it when I'm nice to you, but you were the one who wanted this, right? So… what am I supposed to do?… I dunno' what I'm doing wrong. Is it just-" Renji gave him a look out of nowhere, staring dead at him. "Are you messing with me or something?" Renji suddenly asked, eyes narrowing dangerously as he came towards Ichigo, staring him down resolutely, but Ichigo didn't break.

Finally Renji sighed and broke eye contact, looking at his lap. "If you hate it that much, then say something."

That was the raindrop that burst the dam.

"Maybe I do hate it!" Passive hadn't worked, because Renji didn't take hints, so Ichigo was going to have to be blunt and not just pop this guy's bubble, but detonate it. Renji looked stunned, eyes widening, mouth opening slightly as he flinched back involuntarily at the volume.

"Every fucking time you do shit like this, all I can do is wonder what my mom would say and be fucking ashamed," Ichigo shouted, clawing at his hair. He couldn't stop now, even though he knew he was going too far. Renji wanted honesty, well he was going to fucking get it.

He looked like he'd been slapped dead in the face, but Ichigo kept going.

"How can you just accept what we're doing like it's not disgusting? God, I feel dirty when you kiss me!" Ichigo hollered, kicking Renji in the leg and standing up while he just sat there helplessly, mouth agape. "Why would I want people to know about this?! Why would I want to admit this to people?!"

He adopted a fake sleazy voice then, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling, "Geez, it's that Ichigo kid. He had such a bright future until he let this tattooed delinquent distract him from medical school so he could fuck him hard. What a goddamn shame!"

Ichigo grit his teeth together, fists in balls as he got out those last words, "Fucking me in secret is fine, but every time you kiss me like that and try to do nice shit, I know you're getting ready to tell me that we should tell the world that we're fucking boyfriends or something, and that'd ruin my life!"

He shouted then, blurting something out that he didn't even really believe, but at that moment, all he felt was anger and denial, hurling whatever he could get Renji to fuck off, "That's what you want, isn't it?! To hook me with sex and then trick me into falling in love with you so I'll be your sex toy forever. Well, I'm not falling for it!"

Ichigo took a few deep breaths, and once he calmed down, he noticed with trepidation that it was completely silent. Renji wasn't glaring, or angry, or building up to shout back in rage. He was just sitting there, staring at the wall, absolutely stunned.

"That's what you thought," he finally said in a small voice, bringing a hand up to his forehead, "about what we were doing… That's what… you…"

Ichigo realized that he'd made a terrible mistake, the guilt beginning to compile on him and make him feel horrible already. Renji stood up, still looking absolutely shell-shocked, expression not changing as he put on his coat and slipped on some sandals. A claw of dread shot up Ichigo's spine as he desperately begged Renji to hit him, scream back, cry, anything but look so empty like that.

He couldn't just leave after Ichigo had said that. They needed to talk about it. Ichigo had to apologize, but he couldn't get the words out. He'd always been awful at apologizing because he never usually did things he regretted. He thought out everything before doing it and dealt with the consequences, but that had been a mistake! He was just so confused about everything that it had just come out wrong! He hadn't meant to explode like that, even if he'd meant almost all of it.

He tried to stop him from going out the door, but Renji left in a daze. His phone was still on the couch, the dirty dishes were still in the sink, and it was eleven at night. Ichigo just watched the slumped shoulders of a defeated man leave their apartment, and suddenly horror and regret crashed in on him and he punched a hole in the plaster.

Renji had even forgotten to put his hair up.


'Cause you're my, you're my
You're my-y-y-y
My true love, my whole heart
Please don't throw that away


Yumichika and Ikkaku ended up going to a nice sports bar and shooting pool for a few hours. Ikkaku wasn't so good at it at first, because he'd been too focused on hitting the cue ball really hard to pay attention to whether his aim was absolutely accurate. Yumichika had the opposite problem, never really able to shoot correctly without over or under-estimating his momentum.

"Whew, that was fun," Ikkaku said, smiling. He had a bit of a buzz, and was hoping that alcohol would help loosen him up. It was a fine line, since he wanted to be buzzed enough to relax, but not enough that he was drunk. Drunk sex was the opposite of appealing to him, mostly because he wanted to be able to focus and remember everything later.

"Yes," Yumichika commented idly, letting Ikkaku share the fruity drinks that the bigger guy was far too embarrassed to order himself. As Yumichika had said, why not get just as drunk on alcohol that actually tastes good? Still, it didn't really work that way for someone like Ikkaku, who had a reputation to uphold. He didn't want anyone teasing him or picking shit when he was on a fucking date, because before you know it, they'd be banned from the bar.

They took a walk later in the humid night air, settling on a bridge and watching the pond in silence. Luckily, Yumichika hadn't said a word about Ikkaku's utter failure from their last date, but it was still lingering heavily in Ikkaku's mind, and when he kissed Yumichika goodnight at his front door, he cringed.

Yumichika smiled, kissing him again, inviting him in one more time, and Ikkaku felt sick and undeserving. Yumichika was still letting him in. He still didn't feel any arousal; it just wasn't happening. God, he was so humiliated. He wanted Yumichika so bad, really he did. He was so pretty tonight, so so pretty, so ready for him, but Ikkaku just didn't feel anything.

It wasn't easy for him to feel the fire now that they weren't fighting. It was a slow warm glow, and although embers were hotter than the flames themselves, you couldn't feel the heat unless you really got up close and stuck your hand in there. Ikkaku didn't know how to anymore without a potential threat. Yumichika was practically writing 'make love to me' on his forehead with those sex eyes of his, but Ikkaku still couldn't bring himself to deepen the kiss if he wasn't feeling it, and he didn't feel shit.

Now that they weren't fighting all the time, they'd fallen out of their pattern. Ikkaku didn't know the right response or reaction. It was scary. What if he got it wrong? What if he fell out of Yumichika's favor again and fucked everything up? There was no script to romance, and it was maddening.

It just... It felt bland and stagnant. Ikkaku didn't feel anything and it was awful. It wasn't so much that he didn't like the idea of a relationship without sex, it was that he didn't think Yumichika was okay with that, and if he couldn't have sex anymore, then that was a big problem. Ikkaku had to do something about this, but he didn't know what there was to do, really.

Running sounded okay for now. Ikkaku wasn't one to run from a fight, but this wasn't a fight. It was shame. He couldn't take shame. Humiliation was one thing he couldn't bear, it was why he got so violent when people pointed out his scalp.

He had to get out of here.

"Nah, I'm just gonna'… gonna' go home," Ikkaku said, scratching the back of his neck and pecking Yumichika's cheek one more time.

"Oh," Yumichika said, seeming surprised but not disappointed. "Okay, sweetheart." Ikkaku winced, but let Yumichika move in and hug him close but not tight. He was so warm and soft, and his head was nestling perfectly against his chest. Ikkaku drew his arms around him and felt his throat tighten and his eyes burn. Fuck, he wanted this so bad. Why couldn't he just feel it? He was the worst boyfriend in history. It wasn't fair.

"I really care about you," Ikkaku said. "Okay? I just… I have to work through some junk," he explained shortly, holding him tightly, an arm around Yumichika's lower back and another around his neck and cradling his head, determined not to let him free just yet. Yumichika just nuzzled into his collar-bone.

He really didn't want Yumichika to start thinking that he couldn't do it with him because he wasn't attracted to him or something. No, Ikkaku thought he was the most gorgeous thing he'd ever seen. When Yumichika walked, those pretty heels hitting the floor, he looked like a model that could level a city. Yumichika was thin like a dancer, and graceful, but strong. He could probably crush a man's skull with his thighs, and his fingers, Ikkaku was dying to feel them scratching over his scalp in the post-coital glow. There was a fire in there, he just couldn't light the match…

"I understand," Yumichika said, tipping his head up to his, hands slipping up to Ikkaku's cheeks and holding him against him as he kissed him. The kiss was just that, only a kiss, and there wasn't some desire that ignited within him or even a warm feeling. All he felt was painful wretched awful love, but it didn't do anything for his physical predicament.

Ikkaku wondered if Yumichika understood what he thought he did or if he'd made some sort of incorrect inference. It didn't matter, because Ikkaku didn't really understand why he was so lustless lately either. "I can be patient," Yumichika assured. "I'll wait until you've sorted things out. I understand."

Ikkaku's gut tensed up, feeling sick, but he kissed Yumichika's eyes, one, then the other, then his nose, then his lips. "You are absolutely precious-aah!" he yelped, holding his face where Yumichika had flicked him, more out of surprise than pain.

"Don't overdo it," Yumichika said warningly, then giving him one last squeeze before saying goodnight and flouncing inside, blowing a kiss. Ikkaku's heart jerked with an overwhelming rush of 'I-love-you-you-fucking-brat'.

"Yeah, bye…" Ikkaku said dazedly, waving as the door shut, just standing there for a minute before wandering away.

He had the most gorgeous person in the world as his boyfriend, but he couldn't get aroused. That was like getting a royal flush playing poker when you're all betting with pennies.

What the fuck had happened to his life?


It cuts so deep and touches your insides,
shakin' like leaves, afraid it's the wrong time.
Tell me you remember, tell me its not too late.
Cause love won't come again.