Sosuke wasn't a bastard. Despite the electrical thrill dulling his senses, there was enough left to feel anger at how disrespectful the subordinate was being to his father- behind his back. That surge of loyalty emboldened Ichigo. He would keep Grimmjow in line. He would prove he was the heir to Las Noches. Even if it was through another way...
"Yours?" The Arrancar was so close that he could scent the male's heat. If the bulge nuzzling his, was any indication. Ichigo glanced to it speculatively. Wondering how to pleasure the larger male's cock . What about what Ulquiorra had done to him...? A shudder trembled down his spine. Boldly, he snaked his hand out, letting it glide along the muscular Arrancar's bare torso. Grimmjow's grin became little more than a leer, the wildness in the sharp teal eyes promising both agonizing pain and sadistic pleasure. Ichigo licked his lips, rasping his nails over the taut stomach.
"If I am...then let me ease it off." His fingers played with the black sash, letting it cascade to a dark puddle at their feet. Ichigo sunk down, gaining his fill of the glorious specimen of manhood thrusting aggressively toward his face. His eyes lingered over the thick pulsing veins near the head, the angry redness of the engorged skin needing release. He licked his lips again, his eyes slanting upward. Grimmjow had leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the tiled wall.
"Suck it, bitch." The Sexta demanded crudely.
Ichigo felt the slightest bit of annoyance at being told what to do, but shrugged it off, parting his lips
(*)*)*)
"What can be gained from such satisfaction of curious perversion?"
The perfunctory question echoed in the cool darkness of the room dimly lit by illumination spilling from the centermost screen. The man seated at the console, grinned, half glancing over his shoulder to the melancholy Espada. "Come in, Ulquiorra." Gin cooed, an almost lewdness to the tease in his tone. "Or at the very least," the Shinigami whined as the other made no move, "close the door."
Emerald eyes flickered from the surveillance image of the boy undressing, monochrome clothes falling aside to reveal dusky tanned skin sculpted with muscle. Ichigo was a work of art. A masterpiece their Lord had formed.
A mortal ascending to Godhood...
He was not to be admired by Deviants such as the Shinigami.
A subtle crease furrowed Ulquiorra's brow. "Does Lord Aizen know of this?"
"Perhaps." Gin said carelessly, swiveling back to the screen, his smile widening as the boy's torso bent, stepping out of the baggy hakama. "Sosuke sees all..." Gin murmured after a moment. Ulquiorra covertly caught from the corner of his eye, the look on the man's face.
Longing.
Then, a shadow passed over Gin's pale, pointed face and it was gone. Leaving Ulquiorra to wonder if he had ever seen the emotion there to begin with.
"What about you?" The Shinigami asked slyly.
"What of me?" Ulquiorra was aware of every motion, every move of the boy whose bare body and long, lean torso glinted wetly with the sheen of water. Burning lingered on the edge of the Espada's thoughts, an unquenched fire riveting deep into his veins and stomach. He was aware of the question, of the import behind the Shinigami's casual tone.
"Oh, you know...!" Gin elaborated with a flippant gesture. "How does it feel...to be so close..yet unable to touch that which you desire?"
Desire..the word whispered, curling sinuously in the mind of the Arrancar. He contemplated the meaning of the word with detachment, an inner burning licking like fire, fueling the heat coiling in the very pit of his being. Ichigo stood beneath the water, innocent, oblivious with his chin tilted back and his golden orange hair like sunset, flattened from its crown.
The boy's lips parted as did the Espada's to speak.
Gin watched intently.
The boy's hand slid as Ulquiorra had watched, standing guard just inside his master's private quarters. The long, blunt-tipped fingers, a promise of strength, slipping around the swollen hardness. Then, Aizen watched as well, a smile curving his handsome features, pride as his future lover was groomed to be a slave to pleasure. Not to be touched...by anyone else.
But, the boy was alone now. Alone and delicious with the flush of eager youth tinting his cheeks and glowing like smoldering coals. Ichigo was beautiful...But, the Espada denied his aching thirst and lied, even as rage burned side by side and became one with the desire to possess the boy. "I do not...feel." Ulquiorra said coldly.
Gin's smile evaporated for a millisecond like the dropping of a mask.
Yet it wasn't the cool denial of lust that both men felt, it was the appearance of another.
Of the male with wild teal hair and feral eyes of a deeper bluish green hue.
"Grimmjow..." The Shinigami breathed; Ulquiorra had already turned on his heel.
(*)*)*)
Aizen had known the moment when the Sexta's spiritual pressure had entered the wing of the Palace that belonged to Ichigo. He knew of everything that went on inside his Palace. Las Noches was his domain, and the creatures existing within it, were just pawns.
He was fully aware of his subordinates, of the eyes that lingered long on his son.
The man's lips curled just the slightest in remembrance of the endearment.
"My son." He murmured, knocking aside the marble pawn on the black and white chessboard. Aizen couldn't deny that he himself felt an unexplainable attachment, partiality. He loathed the ideology behind a feeling as a sentiment which could be described as weakness. He was destined for Godhood, on the highest throne above the worlds...with Ichigo at his side of course.
The inclusion of the boy had been of late.
Indeed his plans previously had been of dispense.
Once the boy had lived out his usefulness as maturing the Hogyoku, his purpose was satisfied.
Why the change..?
Aizen mused on the course laid out. He had not meant to become so close to the boy, falsified touches, petting becoming fonder, longer strokes. Desire clenched his being, a darkness festering in the farthest reaches of his mind. The boy had seen it, yet had not become afraid.
Had not feared him.
Aizen's long fingers trailed over the white knight.
Was it the boy's innocence that drew others to him like a dripping, sweetened honey?
The attraction of his body set desire churning in the man's gut.
He could have him. He could rape the innocence from the sweet body offered to him. Ichigo was willing. Aizen knew it. At a word, at a look, or a single touch...the boy would spread for him.
...With love burning fervently in golden amber eyes.
His hand clenched. The white pawn cracked with an ear-splitting sound. Red warmth seeped from between his fingers. In the distance, he could sense the spiking reiatsu of the Sexta intermingling with that full, hard flow from his son.
His Ichigo.
Rage seared his vision.
-TBC
AN: -_- my bad for not updating...in how long?
'Been going through a lot of things here. Mostly bad. I don't know what to do...but today I decided to pull up this partial doc and polish up the chapter to post it for all you people. Thank you for reading and waiting.
No flames!
Reviews appreciated :)
