Now, lookit. A warning, alright? More lemony goodness, and slight (Or major, depending on what each reader's outlook on Ichigo and Aizen is) OOCness. Deal with it. Kthanx.
Mindless
Snap
Ichigo battles with the presence of the other in his mind, so close, so tangible that if he closes his eyes and allows himself to drift, he finds himself facing off with it.
And Ichigo does not want that. Ichigo wants nothing to do with the Hollow side of himself that purrs and crows and urges him to go to Aizen.
Not that he has a problem with Aizen.
But still, a week after he has given his body to Aizen, he is still refusing his revenge. For no apparent reason Aizen continues to deny him, to elusively evade the conversation every time Ichigo tries to bring the subject up.
Ichigo, in turn, has begun to feel the rage building, threatening to spill.
He moves quietly through the white fortress, ghosting the halls, slipping past many Arrancar and Espada without them being aware of his presence.
Searching, even though he knows where Aizen is without having to do so. He can feel where the man is.
The doors to the throne room open easily with a push of his hand, legs carrying him deftly into the hall where he sticks to the walls, watching the man who is sprawled out on the dias in a rather lazy looking way.
Ulquiorra stands before him, intoning something that Ichigo does not care to hear, so he does not bother to listen.
"King…"
Just in time, the mocking voice slips through his mind in a whisper, and he tries to ignore it. He stops, in the shadows, eyes following Ulquiorra as he moves away from the center of the room to take his designated place to the side, and Aizen's lips curl into a pleased smile.
"Then everything is going as planned. That is very good to hear."
"Give in. Give in."
The gleeful taunting makes Ichigo's eyes narrow, and he twitches as Stark emerges from the ranks to also speak to Aizen, though his voice is low so that even if Ichigo wants to listen, he cannot. His fists clench unconsciously, and that voice, so happy, so conniving, slurs out in a way that makes Ichigo actually listen.
"He asked for all of you, King…"
The words trail off, and Ichigo swerves his gaze towards Aizen once more, watching as the man leans his chin against his fist, elbow planted against the arm of the 'throne,' level gaze studying Stark with all the understanding of a lion hunting its prey through a veiled expression.
All of him?
His gaze returns to moving around the room, taking in all of the Espada within, the way they watch Aizen with a mixture of admiration, fear, and hostility. What is it that Aizen is wanting from him?
"You're an idiot."
The voice fades away, though he can feel the presence there, urging him towards the throne even as he continues to ignore the coiling in his chest, the tightening of his ribcage against his heart. His breathing is a bit painful when he takes a deep inhalation of air, throat dry when he swallows.
All of him…
He blinks, slowly, as is his new habit of doing when something in his mind clicks into place, and before he can stop himself he is striding forward, cutting Stark off in the middle of his report, all eyes turning to follow his unpresedented approach of the throne, and the man that sits in it.
A hushed silence falls, disbelieving stares only spurring his actions, his mind having finally registered that when Aizen had said 'all of him,' he hadn't meant just his body.
No. Aizen wants his body, his loyalty, his obedience to a point, and overall…
Overall, Aizen wants what is left of his pride.
A snicker is heard in the back of his mind from that other half that nearly teems with immeasurable, sadistic pleasure as he mounts the steps, two at a time, hands making quick work of the fabric encasing his upper half, discarding it as he goes.
He can feel it, the shame trying to rise up as his body is exposed to the room when he allows the pants to fall as well, stark naked once more in front of Aizen, but this time with the eyes of the Espada baring into his back, burning him with their surprise and shock.
If Aizen himself shares the same emotions as his followers he does not reveal them, that hooded gaze slipping down Ichigo's form, before trailing back up to allow their gazes to meet, fist falling away from his chin so that his hand can rest on the arm of the throne.
Ichigo's voice, hoarse and gruff from silence, growls out for all to hear, the words echoing off of the walls, and if Ichigo had never felt disgrace before, if he had never learned of humiliation in the red room that makes no-longer-existing souls, then he would flinch.
"I give all to you."
He steps up to the man and in a graceful motion that has a collective nearly inaudible gasp rolling through the occupants of the hall he is upon him, knees digging into Aizen's thighs, right hand dipping down to dip into Aizen's pants and draw out the newly wakening member in a comfortable position for the older man as his own eyes burn into his.
Quieter, just for Aizen, his words husky even to his own ears though he isn't quite sure why, he speaks. "All of me, here, in front of your kingdom."
Aizen keeps his hands on the armrests, keeps that placid look on his face. He does not move a muscle, though when Ichigo's fingers stroke at his member it twitches with more life, hardening with the attention being paid to it.
Ichigo does not need any more encouragement than that, nor does he need any more confirmation that he is indeed correct as to what Aizen has been waiting for.
…
The four Adjuchas step out from the rip in reality so suddenly that for a moment none of the Soul Reapers move.
Byakuya is the first to recover, directing Hitsugaya towards one, while commanding Sui-Feng to go after the other, the other two left for he and Rukia to dispatch. There is a moment where she hesitates, looking back at the seemingly helpless appearing Ichigo, Urahara standing a bit off to the side still but showing no signs of concern for anything that is happening.
But he is safe, as long as we defeat the Hollows.
And then she too is off, aiming for the remaining Hollow with all of her frustration and anguish over Ichigo pouring into her attacks, which in the end makes pretty quick work.
If only all things were so simple.
She darts her gaze to Byakuya who has also cut his opponent down, as well as Hitsugaya, with Sui-Feng not far behind. They regroup in the air, regarding each other coldly although their eyes do a quick once over for any injuries.
"Four Adjuchas."
The statement is half posed as a question by Hitsugaya, and Byakuya turns his head just the slightest bit to gaze at the other young looking man sidelong, the uneasy quiet stretching between them.
Suddenly, Rukia gets the overwhelming urge to look down, and what she sees nearly makes her heart wrench right out of her chest.
Standing maybe twenty feet away from Ichigo's turned back is Aizen, stony faced, narrow eyed gaze focused in on the orange haired male as if all of his ire is directed towards him.
…..
Ichigo ignores the others in the room. That is the only way that he is able to do what he is doing, though the humility he feels slowly begins to dissipate as his actions take up his attention.
Aizen is standing tight and ready, though still he has not moved.
He and Ichigo stare at each other, both of their expression unreadable as Ichigo bends his body in a way that has him able to take Aizen in his mouth. He fights back the embarrassed blush that threatens, easily beating it away with thoughts of how Aizen tastes instead of thoughts of the Espada watching their encounter.
His tongue wraps around the head of Aizen's member, followed closely by his lips as he gives a little suck that has the brown haired male giving the first indication of pleasure, a small jerk of his hips that only Ichigo is able to catch since he is on the male's lap.
His ministrations continue, each moment his mouth sliding wetly down Aizen's length little by little, his mouth watering with the contact of such a large foreign object invading his mouth. Ichigo finds, however, that he does not mind the feel of his jaw getting a bit sore, nor does he mind the way that every time he tries to take in too much of the older man that his back gives a bit of a spasm in reaction to his gag reflex.
When he is convinced that he is ready, that Aizen's member is slick enough to not cause him too much pain, he lifts his mouth off of him with a small pop, running his tongue out over his lips as he scoots back up on Aizen's thighs, fisting one hand in the front of the man's hakama, while the other steadies his member so that when Ichigo lowers himself, the head easily breaches the tight circle of muscles still slightly sore from their first romp.
Aizen lets out a deep breath, his hooded eyes narrowing a bit more as his chin dips towards his chest, his hands tightening against the ends of the armrests, as if keeping himself from reaching out to touch Ichigo as the male lowers himself completely onto Aizen with a pant, lips parted in the effort.
He does not allow himself to adjust, does not allow himself to stop and think, before he hooks his ankles on the inside of Aizen's knees, using the muscles in his own thighs to raise himself back up before falling down once more, quickly throwing himself into a rough, fast rhythm that brings both his hands up to grab at Aizen's shoulders at the same moment that Aizen's hands fall to take up a bruising grip on Ichigo's hips.
All composure disintegrating fast, the older man lets that feral grin spread out over his lips, pearly whites flashing in victory as he joins Ichigo's thrusts by jerking his hips down when they are supposed to go down, exuding more force, to where Ichigo hisses in pain, the spit obviously not being good enough and yet it does not seem to bother Aizen at all.
In fact, the little noises that eventually begin to escape Ichigo's throat seem to spur him further, as does every little hint of pain, destruction, and torment seems to.
..PP..
Gin watches from a corner of the throne room, undetected, as always. One hand is against the wall nearest to him, hand pressing so hard against the stone that his knuckles are beginning to turn white, the feeling fading from his fingers.
His pale face is split in a wicked smile, one of those rare ones that actually shows his teeth, his eyes in an impossibly high arched upside down 'U.'
Ichigo's back arches as Aizen's hands meet his hips, drawing him down more forcefully, more savagely. The boy's hands are pressed against Hueco Mundo's King's chest as his head tilts backwards, face turning up to the ceiling, eyes closing as he gasps for breath.
Gin tears his eyes away momentarily to see that, indeed, the Espada are entranced with what is happening, most unsure of exactly what is going on but enthralled in disgusted fascination so great that they cannot seem to look away.
So he, too, looks back to watch as something in the boy seems to slowly begin to unwind, his muscles tightening all over as his gait becomes more fanatic, the erotic way that he continues to arch causing Gin's own member to twitch, even though he is most decisively not into the same sex, as Aizen seems to be.
The boys fists take in a great deal of fabric at Aizen's shoulders, and he watches as their Lord, their master, looks up at the face still turned towards the ceiling, and Gin mimics this scruitiny, finding quickly what has averted Aizen's attention.
Where lips had been parted in a silent cry, they now have begun to curl into a wicked, devilish smile. A quick flick of his tongue brings the tip out to run over the line of his top teeth before retreating inside of his mouth once more.
A strange, pleased sound begins to rise in the room and dies off just as quickly in a sigh, sweat trickling down the boy's spine, and with that simple exhale of breath, Gin watches a slender stream of steam curl out of his mouth to dissipate into the air.
Then eyes snap open and there is a silent burst as suddenly the room is drowned in spiritual pressure as tendrils of riatsu begin to curl out from the boy and dance in a slithering way, as if snakes of energy are coiling out from his body.
Gin, however, is focused on the eyes. They are magnificently hard to miss, a ring of vibrant yellow hovering in a black abyss. This Ichigo, with that dangerous smile stretching his lips, and strange eyes, looks down to Aizen, that steady beat between them never failing, never pausing, as Aizen's own spiritual pressure rises to meet the challenge, bringing most of the Espada to their knees.
They seem to exchange a few brief words, words that have Aizen's smug grin widening if possible, and then there is a crack as Ichigo's body spasms, a cry wrenching from his throat that is something Gin never would have imagined, and he goes limp in Aizen's lap after a few more rocking motions, and Gin can tell by Aizen's face that he, too, has released himself deep within the other man.
Silence spreads over Las Noches as both powerful pressure immediately seem to disappear, though Gin raises his eyes in time to see Aizen's composed, sly gaze meet his own from across the room.
…..
Like, don't like, it matters not to me. Though, I rather had fun typing up this chapter, believe it or not. Yippie for public sex!