Summary- Bested by the demon within, Ichigo is trapped inside his own soul, where the only thing worse is being outside it. Who knows how much pleasure and pain, a foolish mistake will grant him? For two weeks he will be at the mercy of his hollow, and a prisoner of Las Noches. Will his strong mind and body be able to cope with the weight of Shiro's revenge, and his love? ShiroxIchigo- YAOI. LEMON. Shiro- centric

Disclaimer- I DO NOT OWN BLEACH.

A/N- Thank you so much to my anonymous reviewers too! HappyCat, Chaos, AURA, FanGirl, and multiple guest reviews, Sorry that i always forget to mention you, and sorry if I missed someone, but your reviews are very appreciated. Thanks so much!


Ichigo exploded… His brief moment of shock wore off and in the span of a heartbeat he had gone from shell-shocked uke to the incarnate of a scorned women's wrath. Suppressed reitsu exploded from his body to scorch the flesh of those in the room, like an inferno. Whatever his current reitsu state lacked in mass, it certainly made up for in quality.

"TRAITOR!" he screeched. His fists were clenched painfully at his sides, as his stiff form trembled with rage, eyes burning with passionate anger and teeth grinding against each other as he fought to coerce his feelings into words; language that could express the immense anger boiling in his gut.

"FUCKING BASTARD! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" He stood there screaming, the flames of his rage burning at his back, his eyes intense enough to freeze time.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU UNTIL YOU'RE DEAD! " Then he lunged across the room, with surprising agility and swooped Shiro off his perch, fists grasping taut pale skin and throwing his hollow across the room to smash his body into the wall.

The strength Ichigo seemed to have attained through sheer will power and anger was more than Shiro had expected, and he could do nothing but gape as Ichigo's fist drew back and smashed into his face.

The force behind the punch was powerful, and it rocked through his whole body as his head bent backwards to connect with the wall. Yet even as his breath was forced from his body, Ichigo was drawing back his fist again to follow up.

But Shiro wouldn't have it; one punch was all he allowed the shinigami before anger overtook him in turn, and he retaliated. By instinct, his fist flew out to catch iIhigo's jaw in the same spot. The teen stumbled back under the force, but the rage didn't leave his eyes, and he steadied himself to dive back at his hollow.

The fight they engaged in was pure melee street brawling, and while Ichigo's muscles and mind were trained in such, Shiro didn't have the experience to completely outmatch Ichigo on a level like this. He was rolling on pure instinct, much of which was borrowed from Ichigo's memories, so as they fought their reitsu began to tune further to each other's melody. It was a skirmish like neither had engaged in before; they could literally feel each other's movements and intentions.

The intense rage and betrayal Ichigo felt flowed through him, and his confusion and frustration back into Ichigo in turn. He knew, somewhere, that perhaps the situation could be explained rationally in a way that would dispel Ichigo's wrath, but Shiro couldn't bring himself to stop causing Ichigo pain. The shinigami had punched him, and his instincts screamed to insert his dominance again. He couldn't help it, he was a hollow, and hollow's fought.

After a while the pair wore themselves out, after sustaining many injuries and bruises. Shiro had inevitably came out on top, and he held an irritable Ichigo down beneath him on the cold floor, their strained breaths mingling together as he rested his forehead on Ichigo's.

They lay there, panting and exhausted, simply feeling the others emotions like the weight of an anchor.

Shiro experienced it on a level unlike any of the five senses; as if they were merged. He could taste how angry Ichigo was, to have woken up, with his last memories of being fucked into oblivion during the best sex they had engaged in, as of yet, only to find his hollow enjoying himself with others.

Shiro could smell how confused Ichigo was with his own reaction; frustrated that he had reacted so strongly to such an expected scene, angry with himself for caring, and confused as to why.

Shiro could hear in the rasp of his breath, and the tingle of his reitsu how hurt Ichigo was. He realized, being brought up surrounded by Ichigo's feelings and memories, that the orangette regarded sex, hand in hand with love, and by taking Ichigo's virginity, the teen had placed a certain amount of trust in him. It was a responsibility; to take care of his own things, his own partners.

He felt his chest swell as he stared into Ichigo's bitter brown eyes, smirking lightly as he recognized the pain hidden behind all the anger. Ichigo was hurting, and the pang of it flowed through him like heartburn.

Ichigo looked so beautiful when he was angry; hurt and defensive of his feelings. The intensity in his eyes was the sexiest thing Shiro had ever seen, the fierce scowl drawing at his lips, the furrow in his brow, and most of all the twitches that went through his body everywhere they touched; Ichigo's muscles tensing and itching to hit him again.

Even as Shiro pinned him to the ground, completely outclassed and outmatched him, everything about the orangette screamed defiance. It turned him on like a light bulb, and made the empty part of his chest feel like cotton candy.

This was the Ichigo he bowed down to as king. The Ichigo who had bested him in battle, time and time again, with his sheer force of will. His Ichigo contained so much passion and determination.

It hit him then, like a blow to the back of the head, exactly what zangetsu wanted. They were like yin and yang, pepper and salt, fire and air; they couldn't exist without each other. They made up for each other's flaws and faults, watched each other's backs, and knew each other's weaknesses. They were the definition of the word partners.

Shiro felt a sudden pang of appreciation and pride for his partner. He had missed him so much; he had been so worried about him, even as he tried to distract himself with sex.

Ichigo involuntarily relaxed beneath him, his eyes softened as he met Shiro's wide, golden, mesmerising pools, and all of Shiro's feelings and memories flowed through him first hand. He couldn't bring forth his killer intent when he felt how stifling Shiro's worry and suffering had been, how many times the albino had wished for Ichigo's return, or regretted his actions. A small part of him was snickering 'serves him right,' In the back of his mind. But that was quickly swept away by a tornado of affection.

In that moment, they only had eyes for each other and nothing, past or present mattered anymore. Not even their audience.

The three espada stood mostly motionless, observing the scene; save Grimmjow who was held back by Stark's hand on his shoulder. The bluenette was fuming, even as both Ulquiorra and Stark dragged him from the room. Despite his anger at being cock-blocked time and time again, the sexta did posses a functioning sense of self-preservation. He would wait, and buy his time, until the perfect opportunity to pounce was presented, not even the wolf would not get in his way once he had unleashed his claws.

Stark, on the other hand, was inwardly shedding dramatic crocodile tears at this loss. Yet he respected the twins, and believed they were fully entitled to their moment alone. Other occasions to engage them would come, as there was still a lot to learn about the object of his affection. The pair truly fascinated him.

Ulquiorra was simply going with the flow, as much as he wanted to stay, Stark was dragging him from the scene and he didn't fully understand why, but wasn't about to disobey the primera's will for something so petty… no matter how his body longed to stay and watch…

Leisurely, Shiro lowered his lips to the shinigami's and kissed him sweetly and slowly. A kiss filled with emotions.

His chest swelled more as Ichigo melted into the kiss, assured by the firm promise in those lips and his insecurities put to rest.

The orangette gingerly lifted his arms to wrap around his hollows neck as their kiss deepened, and Shiro wound his hands through Ichigo's orange locks, drawing them closer.

"I really am glad you're okay." Shiro whispered softly against the teen's neck, as they broke apart for air, content to just sit and hold the other.

"Tch, that's only because you wouldn't get any if I wasn't." Ichigo mumbled, scowling at the wall behind Shiro's head.

"Ya know I didn't mean it. I didn't hurt you intentionally, just couldn't hold back when you begged for it." He snickered, smirking mischievously.

Right on cue, Ichigo bristled "I did not Beg!" He reiterated.

"Yes you did. Just face it, I'm too sexy for you to resist." A wide, perverted grin broke out across his face as he leered at the orangette.

"Idiot! We're the same person!" Ichigo barked and punched him lightly in the arm, only because he was too exhausted to manage more.

"Then we're both too sexy to resist." Shiro said smugly, his joyful grin positively cute on Ichigo's frequently scowling face. With a burst of vigor he lifted the shinigami in his arms, even as Ichigo protested to being carried bridal style in the arms of his naked hollow, bashing on his chest and shoulders with meek fists.

The pleasurable swelling and warmth spreading in Shiro's chest only increased the closer he held his other half, even as Ichigo scowled and complained about every tiny detail, he couldn't keep the grin from his face. Now that Ichigo was back in his arms, where he belonged, he felt almost complete again. They say you never know what you have until it's gone, and Shiro hadn't even realized how much he'd missed his orangette. How had he even lived without his beautiful berry close at hand?

As they reached his room, Shiro noted, with satisfaction, that Aizen had seen fit to refurnish and restore the entire bedroom after Hallibel's rampage.

The bed had been replaced by a lavish white, four poster bed, and as he placed Ichigo down on the mattress, he noted that it was softer then their previous one.

Ichigo voiced no complaints as Shiro carefully removed every last item that adorned his body, with gentle persistence and almost loving touches. There was nothing sex or lust driven in the way he touched Ichigo's peachy skin now, and the teen felt the same way as he twirled Shiro's long strands of silky white hair between his fingers, brows furrowed as he admired them and paid no mind to Shiro's touches.

"Why did you grow your hair long?" Ichigo asked, shifting to accommodate the hollow's arms slipping around him, drawing their body's flush together.

"I don't want to look exactly like you… I'm different... I'm not you." Shiro mumbled in reply, yawning between words as the day's activities finally caught up to him. He couldn't imagine ever sleeping again without Ichigo in his arms, it just wouldn't be right. But now that the teen was back, healed and healthy, nothing could hold off his exhaustion.

"If I grew my hair long will it look like yours?" Ichigo asked tiredly, his eyes drooping as Shiro's exhaustion rubbed off on him.

The albino scowled, "No." He answered quickly; completely sure Ichigo could never have hair like his. The orangette's hair was a fiery mess of spikes that cascaded down his back when it became long, nothing like Shiro's pantene quality, dead-straight locks.

They were solely his own, and he was proud of them.


Ichigo awoke in a rather compromising, but surprisingly comfortable position. Shiro was draped over him like a sleeping bag, both arms and legs wrapped tightly, snuggling his albino nose into fluffy orange locks. But the worst part, far outmatching his tangled state, was how his own limbs were wrapped around Shiro in turn. They were intertwined as tight as a link of chains, and no matter how Ichigo moved he couldn't untangle his limbs from around the hollow; his body didn't seem to be responding to his mind the way he wanted it too.

He still wanted to punch the hollow, not only for hurting him in the first place, but for leaving him there with those creepy arrancar nurses who seemed oblivious to the fact that he had certain rights. They hadn't responded to any of his questions, and proceeded to tie him down and pump him full of weird shit that made him black out again.

They could have just told him they were trying to heal him, and maybe he would have listened, but he had been left in the dark. So once he had finally regained consciousness, he was out of there, forcefully busting his way out of the infirmary where his feet lead him in a sure direction. He had found Shiro easily, like a moth to a light, but what he had found was somehow shocking.

The blush on his face was close to burning, sparking as Shiro growled and held him tighter, unconsciously pressing his impressive morning wood into Ichigo's crotch, rubbing it against his own. As Shiro gyrated his hips against Ichigo's, the teen could no longer hold back his moan at the friction he received, thus waking the albino from his slumber.

Sleepy golden eyes watched him intently; a sly smirk turning his hollow's lips, as the movement of their hips continued.

Very soon they were both hard as stone and grinding naked dicks against each other like fire sticks, searching for the ultimate euphoria. They found it at the same time, molding every inch of skin into the other as Ichigo shot his come all over Shiro's body, and Shiro all over his own.

Now they were even more tangled then before, and covered in sticky semen. So they simply lay catching their breaths and buzzing from the pleasure high in each other's arms.

Ichigo was trying to convince himself he was buzzing from something other than the pleasure. There was no way he would willingly cuddle with his hollow all night long, or be so easily distracted from his resentment. Those nurses must have done something to him, because he certainly felt funny; a fluffy tingling sensation in his stomach that had nothing to do with his orgasm had taken root. The splash of pink over his cheeks burned with every breath that came out of the albino's mouth, and his heart took flight in his chest when he stared too intently into those golden orbs.

"I didn't know you were the type for so much cuddling Ichi-kun…" Shiro snickered, breaking the teen from his daze. Firm arms were no longer wrapped firmly around his waist and, much to Ichigo's mortification; he realized it was his own arms that were holding them together. Even so, it took another few seconds before he could rally his thoughts and gain enough control of his body to forcefully pry his arms from around the albino, blushing profusely as he did.

"I don't cuddle!" he denied, scowling almost instinctually at the mischievous hollow. "You're the one that was snuggling into my hair, I didn't know you got off on smelling people." The last part was said almost teasingly, with a small twitch to Ichigo's pink lips as he fought back his smirk.

"Only you Ichi-kun. I didn't know someone could smell so girly and still have a dick." His hollow teased right back, and a vein popped in Ichigo's forehead before he threw his fists at the laughing albino. They tumbled through the sheets as Shiro rolled out of the way, his playful grin back full force as Ichigo lunged at him again, and succeeded in pinning the golden-eyed hollow beneath him. But once he had him there, smooth pale body sprawled out and held down as he straddled Shiro's waist, he had forgotten why he was angry in the first place.

Shiro stared up at him with wide, mirthful eyes and Ichigo wanted, in that moment, to kiss his pale, parted lips. To grind his hips down against his hollow's again and feel that hard, slick dick inside him and stimulating him in ways he hadn't dared dreamed of.

The images ran through his mind like a porno tape, and Ichigo wondered vaguely when he had become such a pervert. When had his priorities shifted to put sex with Shiro so high on the list? What was happening to him?

It sent a pang of pain through his heart as he reminded himself that Shiro was only using him. He was a prisoner; Shiro's slave, not his lover or his partner. So with lethargic reluctance, he dragged himself from his hollow's sinful body and into the bathroom to wash away the traces of their orgasm.

He was shocked to find a huge, steaming spa bath waiting for him, so shocked that he couldn't bring himself to move from his spot until pale hands were running down his sides.

"Do you like it?" Shiro murmured, not expecting an answer, as he knew exactly what Ichigo thought already. Resting his chin on the orangette's shoulder, he placed his hands on the teen's hips, rocking them back into his reawakening member gently.

Ichigo shook his head abruptly and hurried to escape, for fear of loosing himself in the touches again. Slipping underneath the blissful water, sighing contently as it automatically encased him and soothed his muscles and sores.

He felt like moaning and keening at how insanely good it felt, he was so relaxed it almost scared him. That was when Shiro's perverted, groping hands found his body again, and restarted their explorations, but Ichigo couldn't bring himself to stop them this time. He craved that touch like a drug. Shiro was already burning hot kisses down his neck and torso, while his hands massaged the firm globes of Ichigo's ass. It felt so good he couldn't use his brain enough to stop it from happening.

In his hazy, lust induced daze he comforted his pride by blaming the water; there must be some type of aphrodisiac in the water, he concluded, otherwise he wouldn't be letting this happen so easily, nor want it to so bad.

Shiro's hands spread their magic all over his body like fairy dust, stimulating every inch of flesh they could find until Ichigo was straight as a pole and throbbing in the heat of the water. He moaned wantonly, wrapping his long legs around his hollow's waist and rocking into him.

The albino wasn't faring much better at the sight his beautiful shinigami made; reacting to every movement he made, and running his own feverish hands over Shiro's body in response.

He growled darkly as he inserted two fingers between Ichigo's legs, pushing them in past his sphincter as the teen cried out in pain and arched his back magnificently.

He twirled his digits around in the orangette's tight heat, crooking and stretching them as he stimulated the teen's prostate, with the perfect mix of pleasure and pain.

Briefly, he debated whether to sit Ichigo on the side of the pool, spread his legs and fuck him, do it the bath with their bodies underwater, or simply standing up, waist deep in the pool with the orangette's legs wrapped like wire around his body.

But then a gloriously intriguing idea struck him, one he couldn't resist trying out.

Leisurely, he leant back against the side of the bath, seating himself on the ledge with the warm water halfway up his chest, and Ichigo still hanging off his body like he was dangling over a cliff.

Ichigo seemed confused as Shiro removed his hands to spread them over the side of the pool, leaving Ichigo straddling his waist and grinding their erections together all on his own.

"You control the pace." Shiro said, smirking at him sheepishly. "Consider it an official apology for injuring you."

At his words, a small part of Ichigo snapped out of his daze, while another part became all the more aroused. How could he not, when Shiro willingly gave up control of their sex to him? His soft, sheepish smile was almost sincere, And Ichigo was having a hard time reminding himself that this was his hollow he was doing these things with; the hollow that was hell-bent on killing him and causing him pain. That thought allowed him to reincarnate his headstrong pride for a short time.

"Tch, what control is there to have when you've probably had your fill of the entire fortress while you put me in that creepy infirmary." He scoffed; a half-hearted jolt at regaining some of what he had lost, despite knowing how things really went. But he refused to give up his position and hold over the hollow.

"Ichi-kun, I promise you I didn't have sex with anybody else while you were gone." Shiro narrowed his eyes at the orangette, shocking him with the intense sincerity he felt behind their depth. When he said it like that, as if he was telling Ichigo his dog had just died, it was impossible not to believe his words for the truth.

It made Ichigo's heart flutter a bit in response, and a blush erupted on his cheeks as he flushed.

"Some of the other espada are hot, and I wouldn't mind fucking them, but I have eye's only for you, Ichi, I'd never let anyone else ride me."

The sudden honesty did funny things to Ichigo's common sense, and without further thought on the matter, past his primal desire to be filled to the brim; he lowered himself onto Shiro's steel straight cock.

He bit his lip at the pain as the thick shaft pushed into his ass, bringing searing pain along with it, before he was fully seated over Shiro's length, panting and grasping his hollow's shoulders to steady himself.

Then as soon as he had adjusted, he was rocking his hips and swirling them around in circles, searching for that place inside of him that would send him to cloud nine.

When he found it, stars erupted in his eyes, and he lifted his hips up to yank them back down over Shiro's length, driving into that same, pleasure-inducing spot over and over again.

Shiro didn't move his hands the whole time, apart from to grasp Ichigo's jaw and guide their mouths together for a passionate kiss, tasting and sucking on the teen's salivating mouth and swirling his tongue around.

But there was something incredibly empowering and sexy about being on top of his hollow this way, without all the groping and touching, that had Ichigo beyond aroused.

Just as he corkscrewed his hips in retreat, and smashed them back down to hammer into his prostate he felt himself come undone; the burning furnace he had been building inside him opened it's doors and heat and pleasure erupted everywhere, rocking his body like he was in an electric chair.

"Shiroooooooo!" He groaned out as he came, and the albino growled as he could no longer held his hands back, and reached out to grasp Ichigo's cock and pump the semen from its tip, while the other gripped Ichigo's ass firmly and drew him even closer.

The completely overwhelming feeling of Ichigo's tight walls contracting around him and his slim body rocking wildly over him was too much to bare, and he released his load deep inside the teen, thrusting his hips up harshly as he came.
"Fuck, Ichi…" he groaned as they continued to thrust against the other for the duration of their orgasm, before Ichigo slumped over him, breathing heavily and heart beating a mile a minute. But even so, the orangette couldn't keep the light satisfied smile from his face, or save his hollow from catching it and smiling back.


A/N- well… this wasn't supposed to turn out like this; I assure you, stuff was supposed to happen, but it turned into sex… Anyway, plot next time then. :P Sorry. I hope it isn't too sudden, or too unjustified, that feelings are starting to develop. Though neither of them has realised it yet, and will refuse to, because of their nature, for a while to come.

Please leave a review and let me know what you think! Is this too soon, or too sudden to introduce the factor of love?

ALSO- I recently posted a short prelude to a possible story, called Strawberry Milk, so check it out if you want, and let me know if you'd like it continued sometime?

Thanks for your time!