My hands slowed and then stopped.
It was finished – he was as perfect as he had been before my jealousy inflicted horrible wounds over his. The reiatsu burns in his wrists, elbows, knees, ankles and chest were fully healed, and the terrible frozen rawness of his back no longer evident.
Five days of intermittent healing and twenty-eight hours of continuous reiatsu control. I was amazed at myself even as I collapsed to unconsciousness beside his tranquil figure.
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When I woke he wasn't where I left him. For a second I panicked: where had he gone?
Then I looked up. He was gazing at me, his expression inscrutable.
"Gin?" He just kept looking at me blankly. No smile, no recognition, nothing.
I attempted again. "Gin?"
Still nothing.
I heaved a sigh. His mind was still not here. At least he was healed physically. I rubbed my face with my hands as I faced the window, trying to stem the frustration that welled up in me.
I had never felt regret in my life and death, and here was a mere boy, driving me to desperation. Just when I was about to stand and get some food for us both I felt a tentative touch on my shoulder.
No. Please.
"Aizen-sama."
I swallowed. I wanted to speak, but my throat felt constricted. I swallowed again, tried again. My eyes were shut. I feared a mirage or an illusion. Ironic, really. "What did you say?"
"Aizen-sama?"
I never thought his voice could be more beautiful than it was at that moment. Before I could restrain myself I had him in an embrace, inhaling his scent, feeling his too-thin frame within my arms. "You're back."
It was beyond a game now.
He seemed rather disoriented. I couldn't keep my hands off him, trying to ensure that it was happening, that he recognized me, that he was back in the here and now. Had he always been this pale? This fragile?
I had to feed him something. The past few days he had eaten whatever I spooned into his mouth. Now that he was alert, I would cook something special.
"Don't move," I ordered, "I'll prepare breakfast. Stay. Don't go anywhere." I felt giddy, as if I were a lovesick teenager rather than a being who had lived for centuries and more.
Humming to myself – no one would recognize this particular Aizen Sousuke, too unlike himself – I started cooking. Then I heard water running inside the bathroom.
Sighing I placed a tray of bread on the sideboard. I peered into the bathroom, and he was there, sitting on the edge of the tub.
"Gin?" I felt my manhood swell when my gaze took in his pale, lithe, naked form. He saw me and gave a tired little smile.
How I have missed that smile.
"Don't you want to eat first?" I put my desire aside; he wasn't at his best yet, and there was no sense ruining a good session with lack of stamina. He took my hand.
"I want to bathe." His lips and slight stubble on my fingertips ignited a flame in my lower regions. I calmed myself down by watching the tub fill. When I judged it to be full enough I carried Gin – he was only a little heavier than Mizuki – and placed him tenderly in the bath. My sleeves soaked up water and weighed down my arms.
Ah well. I had to change out of that robe anyway.
He looked too enticing, half submerged in the tub, the ripples of light playing across his perfectly clear skin. I said softly, "I'll wait outside. Take as long as you w-"
"I want you to stay here," he interrupted.
I halted. It hadn't been an order but a statement of how things were going to be.
I was impressed. "You sure?"
"Stay." He inhaled deeply and went on, "Take off your clothes and join me in the tub now."
I followed his instructions and entered the tub, facing him. I wanted to drink the sight of him in, fully, but he ordered me to turn around and lean on him instead.
I hesitated. He was still weak...
"Do it." There was no room for debate. I shook my head, trying to dispel the laughter from my face. It was so odd, the way he was giving orders. To me.
He wet my hair slowly, playing with the thick tresses, tangling his fingers into the dark locks. My head lolled back, and my lips brushed over his jawline.
He licked my face as well, and I tried to focus on his breath on my wet skin, instead of his feet rubbing up and down my shin, instead of his hands wandering over my chest and teasing my nipples. I was so engrossed in his breathing I moaned when his hand found my attentive erection. "Not now, Gin, you're not-"
"Shut up." He bit down on my ear, hard; I could feel little lightning bolts of pain shoot into my head. He hissed, "You hurt me."
I was elated. He remembered everything. I looked at him square in the eyes and admitted, "I did."
"You drove me back into the hell I thought I had escaped from." His revelation was startling; I wanted to know more, but now was not the time.
I nodded again. "I did." The anger radiating off him was an elixir, an aphrodisiac. His eyes were flashing, the smile on his face threatening, and his cheeks suffused with blood.
He kissed me abruptly, his tongue and lips demanding, domineering; I gave in this one time. His nails clawed my shoulders, ripping my skin. It felt so good to have him dictating my every respond, and I gave a small, sharp gasp when his teeth tore into my lower lip. It stung.
He was panting when he glared at me again. "Get out of the tub. And help me out."
I obeyed, noting the pink tinge of the water. As I reached for towels to dry us off he stopped me by shoving me against the stone sink. I braced myself, and then I looked in the mirror.
He looked like an avenging demon, wet silver hair dripping into his eyes. His mouth was parted, he was breathing heavily, and his long nails were tinted with bloody tips. He was still frail in build – especially after the ordeal – but there was a potency in his gaze that had never been there before.
I licked my torn lip, tasting blood-copper.
He pinned my left hand with his own, and placed his right hand on my hip. He was hard; had been since the tub. It sizzled where his erection was positioned against me.
"Bend over."
I did so, and I caught the glimpse of surprise that flashed across his features. I spread my legs a little even as he lined himself against me. Both hands held my hips and he slid in, not bothering to lubricate himself.
I felt the burn, the stretch, and then the sensation of being completely filled to the hilt. My length throbbed; I wanted him to make me come.
How many years had it been since I let anyone top me?
"You're so hot, Aizen-sama," he whispered sibilantly. "Hot and tight... gods, I can stay like this forever."
I was impatient, although I didn't show it. "Do you want me to move or would you prefer to do it yourself?"
"Both." With that he grabbed me by my hair and pulled, exposing my throat, thrusting hard into me. I pushed back, not too hard; I was aware he wasn't as steady on his feet as he'd wanted to seem.
He let himself rip loose, thrusting into me over and over, not heedful of his abandoned cries, his wild scratching of my lacerated back, his teeth sinking into my shoulder. When he pushed himself fully into me and hit my sweet spot the first time I bowed my head, unable to look at the flames that danced in my eyes. Perspiration and bathwater ran down my torso and legs.
He buried himself fully in me. With a growl he commanded me to look up, to look at him in the mirror. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his mouth slack and occasionally snarling. My eyes fluttered open-shut-open-shut, and he thrusted to the same rhythm into me.
"How does it feel, being... being fucked instead of being top?" he asked in a seductive growl.
I bared my teeth. "It's... it's fucking good... because it's you... ahh... Gin, was this your... your fantasy?" I wanted to know. I needed to know.
"Yeah... I have ma-many others... fuck, you're so damn... damn fucking tight," he swore softly. "So, so fucking good..."
As he pounded and exploded into me I felt myself ejaculate, my balls tightening, the high forced out of me by his sheer need. My left hand crept between my legs; I wanted to remain hard for later. Not too much later. But somewhere where I could pleasure him and myself better than at a sink.
Gin rested his face against my bloodied back. Slowly he slid out of me. "Take me to the bed now," he said before he started folding onto the ground. I caught him just in time, and carried him to bed.
He was surprised I was still hard and ready. I grinned at his innocence.
"I have been around for some time, Gin. Now," I rubbed his thigh with my aching erection, "how do you want this?"
I'm tired," he said after some consideration. "So... pleasure me. As long as I don't have to make any effort..."
"Yes sir," I mocked gently and kissed him chastely on his lips. But before I could move lower he caressed my face.
"Aizen-sama, am I still beneath you? Forever? Who am I to you now?" asked Gin, his eyes hooded but bright.
I hesitated.
If anything the past week has shown Gin to be more than just a game or a pastime. I looked directly into his eyes.
He wanted assurance, as usual. Only now he was demanding it.
I smiled and kissed him, hard, my tongue pressing against his, tasting every bit of his mouth, curling and pushing deep into him. When I finally pulled away I rested my forehead on his.
"Gin, I'm your lover." I breathed in, then kissed his nose. "Can you live with that?"
"Hell yeah." He parted his thighs and lifted his knees. I grinned wickedly.
It was going to be a beautiful day.
