"Well well, Kurosaki-kun. This is a surprise!"

Gin reclined lazily in Aizen's seat, eyes closed, smile thin and wide. He was plainly dressed in dark colours that made him appear even paler, black trousers and a dark blue shirt unbuttoned at the neck to expose the whitish skin where his collarbone dipped. Almost contrastingly his sleeves were long and buttoned down securely at the wrist, the hands which emerged from beneath white cloth flecked with slight marks and scars.

It was his hands that really caught Ichigo's attention, a small blade playing between his long fingers as they rested against the wood of the teacher's desk.

His tone was light when he spoke but his smile was terrifying, freezing Ichigo to his core where he stood. For a moment he was stunned beneath the weight of that gaze, the shock of seeing him here, the confession that had nearly tumbled from his lips into such very wrong ears.

But then he remembered Kira. He remembered the bruises and the look in the blonde's lost eyes. He remembered the rooftop and the way he had touched Aizen's face. And anger made him forget to be afraid.

"What are you doing here?" He scowled deeply, his eyes flicking up from the blade to rest upon Gin's slitted expression. He'd had punks try and come at him with knives before, he reminded himself, and he knew how to handle them. How to defend himself against them if he had to.

"Ah could ask yah tha same thing." Gin's smile widened, a playful terror contained within that gesture.

Ichigo caught himself as his fists clenched, there was no need to come across too hostile straight away. For all he knew Gin had no idea that he suspected him of anything untoward. He steadied himself, forcing his shoulders to relax a little.

"I was looking for Aizen-sensei."

"Now now," Gin tutted, swinging the small knife like a pendulum, the tip of the blade swinging a mere fraction of an inch above the surface of the desk that had previously been marked by the redhead's nails. Looking closer Ichigo could see that it was a switchblade, small but razor sharp. "Ah think we're past that now aren't we?"

'Busted.' Couldn't fault him for trying. But if there was no reason to stand on ceremony anymore Ichigo would not force himself to mince his words.

"I know what you've been doing." He narrowed his eyes at the white-haired man in his lover's seat. Gin just cocked his head, amusement clear in his features despite closed eyes.

"Hmm?"

"You stay away from Kira." Ichigo felt his jaw tighten despite himself as he ground out the warning. His heart was racing again and this time it had nothing to do with Aizen.

"Well now, that's not fair." Gin rose slowly from the desk, the blade disappearing somewhere up his sleeve, the threat still contained within. "After all, Aizen-sama has his new pet, why shouldn't ah have mine?"

'Aizen-sama?'

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ichigo forced himself to stand his ground as Gin moved towards him. Now that he was up close he could see what Hitsugaya had been talking about. He did look like a snake, and Ichigo was starting to feel distinctly like prey. That smile still lingered upon his lips as Gin moved in close, so close that Ichigo could practically feel his breath against his face. Still, he did not move. Standing ones ground was always the first way towards winning a battle.

"He's so pale, so pretty, so very fragile." Gin murmured, his eyes opening ever so slightly to regard him. As close as they were Ichigo had a good view of the pale blue irises hidden within, just freezing with malicious intent. "Am just seeing how long it takes for me ta break him." He practically hissed as he spoke, all darting snake-like limbs and gestures.

"You sick bastard." Ichigo clenched his fists, trying to control the sudden shaking that ran across his limbs.

"Sick!?" Gin let out a hissing laugh, but the smile dropped away from his face. Quicker than Ichigo could follow he reached up, long fingers grasping his chin painfully, forcing him to look deeper into those terrible eyes. "Yer fucking Sōsuke Aizen, yer one to talk about sick."

"Fuck you." Ichigo spat as he twisted his face from Gin's grip. His body wanted to retreat but he forced his feet not to move. Not to show weakness before this predator. He did not strike him though the temptation was very much there, still acutely aware of the blade somewhere up the white-haired man's sleeve. "Stay the fuck away from Aizen, and if you so much as touch Kira again I will kill you."

Gin laughed at the empty threat. The redhead had no idea what it took to kill a man, but Gin was not so naïve.

"This is some very dangerous fire yer playing with here Ich-i-go." Gin drew out the syllables of his name until it became almost unrecognisable, warped into something bitter and twisted. "One might think yah almost want to get burned."

"You don't know a damn thing."

Gin laughed again, the harsh noise washing over Ichigo like a sudden wave.

"Yer the one who doesn't know anything." He shook his head softly, the smile creeping back in. "Ya have no idea what Aizen's really like."

Ichigo knew. He knew soft touches, being saved. The cabin, the lake, the desk. The admission of need. He knew what he felt now, and the man that he felt it for. And he wasn't scared of this pale imitation of a man anymore, because he had no idea what he was up against in both Aizen and Ichigo.

And together they would show him.

"No, I know exactly who he is." Ichigo challenged as he stepped forward, bringing their faces so close that they could have kissed. His eyes never left Gin's half-closed ones as he whispered, "I think it's you that doesn't know him." He felt the white-haired man bristle and knew that he had him. "He's never shown himself to you, has he? Never let you see behind that mask of his? Not like he has with me."

Taking a step back, he cocked his head a little, regarding the older man like one might regard an insect crawling upon the ground. Gin shuddered internally, he knew that look. That was the way Aizen looked at him. Like he was weak. Like he was nothing. He could feel the cold steel of the blade pressed against the skin of his arm, and suddenly all he wanted was to use it on the smirking redhead, to carve the flesh of his pretty face until he was unrecognisable. Perhaps then Aizen would look at Ichigo like he was disgusting, instead of regarding him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

Gin wanted Aizen to look at Ichigo the same way he looked at him, as though he were nothing.

But he steeled himself; that was not the plan, this was not the way. The boy would suffer, oh yes, but not like that. Because when he fell he was going to take Aizen down with him, whether he meant to or not. The redhead had chosen not to stay away, and in doing so had just signed his own death warrant.

Gin had warned Aizen of this, after all.

"Ya should watch tha' pretty mouth of yers." His eyes opened again, flashing blue and cold as steel. "It's just bound to get ya into trouble one o' these days."

Ichigo gave him one last withering look before turning and walking away, heading for the door of the classroom. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, turning back to him with a very different kind of fire burning in his eyes.

"I meant what I said, you stay away from Kira."

"Ah guess we'll see about that, ne?"

Gin's smile grew as wide as though to crack the surface of his face. Little did Ichigo know that Aizen had delivered that same threat, earlier that day upon the fateful rooftop. Little did he know that Gin had no intention of acquiescing to that demand.

Ichigo didn't wait to see the calculated reaction as he left, slamming the door shut with more force than was absolutely necessary. He didn't want to leave the snake alone in Aizen's room, but it was much more favourable a situation than remaining in there with him.

He didn't quite run from him as he left, but his pace was quicker than normal and his heart had resumed its drumming rhythm. He didn't allow himself to really breathe until he had left the building entirely, bursting through into the sharp air of the cold autumn evening. The season was definitely starting to lean towards winter, Ichigo thought, as the air cut through his jacket like a knife but he welcomed it. The sharp tinge of cold against his skin drew him back into the world of the living, and he felt his heart rate begin to regulate again.

'Alright, so things didn't quite go as expected.' he thought. But his mind had not changed one bit since he had made his decision, this was just a bump in the road. He pulled his phone from his pocket, and for a long moment his finger hovered over Aizen's name in his contact list. But something stopped him. It wasn't that he thought the other man wouldn't pick up if he called, but rather that he'd had this all planned out in his head. The grand entrance preceding the confession. Gin had taken the wind from his sails somewhat, but he hadn't given up. Some things were best said face to face, not communicated in wavering electronic signals over the phone.

So instead he pressed down upon the name he had been hesitating over earlier. The line only rang for a few seconds before the recipient answered.

"Ichigo!" Shinji's permanently amused voice rang down the phone at him, reverberating from the speaker up into his ear. Ichigo had no idea how he knew it was him calling, he didn't remember ever giving him his number. Creepy bastard. "Am I to assume this means that you two have kissed and made up?"

"Not yet," Ichigo huffed out a little sigh that clouded and evaporated into the cold air. "But I am going to make this right."

"Oh, and how do you intend to do that?" The other man still sounded amused, but there was a weight in his voice that could not be disguised.

Ichigo took a deep breath, and cold flooded his lungs.

"I know about Momo Hinamori."

"… Oh hell." He heard a sharp intake of breath from the blonde as he paused momentarily, the electronic silence humming uncomfortably in his ear. "How did you find out?"

"It's a long story." Too long for Ichigo's liking, and still unfolding piece by piece. "I don't know all of it yet, but I need him to know."

"Know what?"

"That I'm not letting him fight this thing alone."

There was a momentary silence as Shinji fought to find the right words to say. On the one hand he wanted Ichigo to go back to Aizen; for someone who had suffered as much as he had he finally deserved a little light in his life, to have someone unequivocally on his side, and it had become painfully clear how much he wanted the redhead to be that person. But on the other, Aizen would probably straight up murder him if he sent Ichigo into a dangerous situation or imparted to him more information that he was willing to give, long standing bond between them or not.

Trust Aizen to choose such a troublesome partner.

He sighed,

"Do you have any idea how dangerous this situation is? I'm not exaggerating when I say life or death."

"I know, that's why I have to help him." Ichigo thought he might have had to fight to make Shinji understand his point of view, but the tone of his voice told him that he already did. "Do you know where he is?"

"I can find out." Shinji tutted softly, weighing his options. To stick his neck out for the kid could be risky for everyone involved, and if he was going to do it he needed to know that he was dedicated to the dangerous course of action he was about to set himself upon. "But why? Why risk your life for someone like him?"

"You know why."

"I want to hear you say it though."

'Fucking Shinji…' Ichigo cursed him silently. He pressed his fingers to his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. But he bit back his pride. He had promised himself that he would do whatever it took, even admitting the truth that he had only just come to realise himself.

"Because I love him."

It sounded so simple and matter-of-fact, saying it out loud. Nothing changed, the world kept spinning around him. His heart kept beating in his chest. The wind kept blowing cold through his jacket. And Shinji laughed at the other end of the phone.

"About time one of you admitted it. Alright kid. I'll shoot you a message in five. Hang tight."

"Thanks."

Ichigo shoved his hands deep into his pockets against the oncoming cold, already feeling a shiver playing across his skin. Now that his body temperature was returning to normal following his adrenaline fuelled flight he realised that he should have worn a warmer jacket.

Thankfully he didn't even have to wait five minutes, hovering warily at the gates of the college should Gin appear again, until his phone vibrated in his hand with a response.

'He's at Gobantai. Do you need a lift?'

His fingers flew over the keys as he replied, already moving in the vague direction of his destination. He knew the place though he had never been there; everyone did. A very expensive and upmarket bar in downtown Karakura, there persisted rumours that you had to have some kind of membership to even get in, which made it seem like just the perfect place for Aizen to be. It was about a half hour walk away from the college but he reckoned he could get there faster on foot than waiting for Shinji.

Besides, some things he needed to do alone.

'Nah, I know it. It's not far. Thanks, I owe you one.'

The response came almost instantly, buzzing in his pocket.

'You owe me several, including a proper explanation.'

Ichigo allowed himself as soft smile as he typed out his reply.

'Deal.'

Another buzz, barely twenty seconds later.

'First things first, right? Good luck :)'

Ichigo shoved his phone back in his pocket as he broke into a run. There really was no rush he supposed, but the words in his chest were just bursting to break free and make themselves known into the atmosphere and, spurred on by Shinji, he suddenly felt as though he had to get there before they fizzled out in his stomach.

But even as he ran he couldn't quite shake the feeling of cold eyes upon his back.

Looking out the window of Aizen's classroom the pale snake raised his own phone to his ear, eyes fully open and staring a hole in the redhead's back as he started running. The ringing tone hummed for a moment before being answered with a sharp click and an ominous silence hanging down the other end of the line.

"I've found him."

It was a very bad day to be Sōsuke Aizen.

Monday had been stressful from beginning to end. He had known that it would be the moment he received a call from Tōsen late Friday night telling him of what had happened with Ichigo's friend in The Ninth, explaining to him with a stern tone his suspicions of Gin. Tōsen constantly had suspicions of him, even when they had worked together, but this time Aizen suspected that his reservations would turn out to be more than just that. Again he wondered if letting Gin live was just more trouble that it was worth, but he bit that thought down. No more. He wasn't that person anymore.

And the bad day had only been exacerbated by Ichigo's unexplained absence during the afternoon's classes. And this close to exam period too, that was so unlike the redhead and it had Aizen more worried that he would like to admit. His absence was almost worse than having to sit there pretending not to look at him, at least then he knew he had the option to make things right.

Really, as if he needed anymore hassle at the moment.

But he knew Ichigo. He knew how fiercely protective he was of his friends, and he could not very well sit idly by whilst the pale devil that haunted his footsteps took advantage of one of them.

Besides, he had some making up to do on that front.

He wished he could explain why he had lost himself when he saw Ichigo's blue haired friend touching him on the dancefloor, but he knew that no explanation would make it right. Ever since Ichigo had left he had felt himself becoming increasingly inclined to giving into the dark thoughts that swirled in his mind, but no matter how tempting they seemed at the time they always left an extremely bitter aftertaste. Like today, he could barely look at Grimmjow in class for fear that his gaze, his very voice would betray what he had done. He had been careful, but yet so stupid at the same time. If Ichigo knew what had happened surely he would only pull further away, and Aizen feared that he may never be able to retrieve him from the distance he had ripped between them.

He had gotten so very rash, and sloppy. And so for his sins he had confronted Gin, telling him to stay away from Ichigo's friend. As usual all he was met with was thinly veiled threats and dark promises, and damn him if he hadn't just wanted to give into his own dark promise and throttle the pale man where he stood. It had taken an inordinate amount of self-control to pull back when Gin had leaned in close, threatening to shift his affections from Kira to Ichigo now that Aizen had, 'what was the word he used?'

Abandoned. That was it. Now that Aizen had abandoned him.

He set his glass back down upon the bar with more force than was entirely necessary. Not a slam though, Sōsuke Aizen would never slam a glass down no matter how unruffled he was feeling. And unruffled he was.

To add to the whole clusterfuck of the situation he had gotten a cryptic call from Shinji in the bar where he sat fully intending to drown away the sorrows of the day. He had imparted his location to the blonde man upon which he had rather rudely and abruptly hung up. Even for Shinji this was fairly suspicious behaviour, and in any other circumstance Aizen would probably have left for fear of being discovered by someone he was wishing to avoid, someone who may use Shinji to attempt to get to him. But he found that right now he didn't really care. Let them come. They could try. The best thing in his life had already been taken from him and not for the first time he had no-one to blame but himself.

The bartender lined up another scotch and Aizen nodded slightly at him. He knew this place well, may have owned it once upon a time if memory served him correctly. It was niche and expensive, but they asked no questions; they also had an excellent selection of whiskeys which they refilled without question. Aizen was only on his second but was already feeling the warm buzz through his veins, blocking out everything that he was trying not to think about.

It was still fairly early in the evening but the bar was already becoming crowded as night began to fall outside, so he scooped up his glass and moved away from the cluster of people clamouring for attention.

Gobantai was an elegant bar, all glass and soft music away from the regular bustle of people but tonight it was unusually busy, particularly for a Monday. Aizen quickly gathered that this was due to a very upmarket wedding reception being held in the adjoining hotel as he dodged two particularly intoxicated looking bridesmaids waving flower bouquets at him. He headed into the centre of the bar, wishing to lose himself and hopefully his thoughts amongst the crowd of seemingly happy people gathered there.

He would be lying to himself if he said that the past week hadn't been weighing upon him greatly.

He swirled the scotch in his glass absentmindedly as he leaned against a tall table, disconnected images and emotions running through his mind. He wasn't used to this, it was one of the very few things he wasn't good at. He had never felt anything like this before, not for someone so new to his life, and he feared that this break may finally be the one to trip up the great Sōsuke Aizen.

'What a joke. After everything that's happened who could have foreseen that my downfall would be a teenager with a deep scowl permanently etched upon his face?'

He sighed as he raised his glass to his lips, eyes darting across the bar as was his nature, taking it all in.

And his heart just stopped when his gaze caught a far too familiar glimpse of red.

Ichigo threw the door open, sweeping past the concierge as though he didn't care that he'd just busted into one of the most exclusive bars in the city without even so much as showing ID. His eyes swept over the growing crowd and connected almost instantly with Aizen. The man at the door didn't even have time to protest before he dived into the crowd.

He bumped up against drunk people in fancy clothes as he pushed through them, barely noticing their presence, all attention narrowed in upon brown hair and brown eyes behind silver frames.

"Ichigo-" Aizen barely had time to breathe out his name before the redhead was upon him, arms flung around his shoulders, grasping the nape of his neck as they pulled him into a desperate kiss. He let his eyes slip shut without question as his arms snaked around the smaller man, pulling him in so tight that he feared he might never be able to let him go again.

He let his glass drop from his grasp, not caring at all about the sound it made as it clattered against the floor, liquid spilling, and the sudden rush of eyes that all swept to look at them. They could wait, the whole damn world could wait as far as he was concerned because right now all he could feel was Ichigo. Those familiar lips pressed to his own in a hungry gesture of want and need as he sighed deeply against them.

In that moment he knew that the redhead was all that he had ever wanted, the missing piece that he had been searching for all these years, accepting him without question, and for the first time in his life he let his masked insecurities slip away under the tide of that kiss.

After what seemed like a lifetime Ichigo pulled back ever so slightly, their faces still pressed so close as though they were afraid to lose each other again.

"Fuck," Ichigo breathed hard against Aizen's lips, hands fisted in his hair, foreheads pressed together. "I missed you."

"You shouldn't be here." Aizen's body was saying the opposite though as he pulled Ichigo in as close as possible, hands slipping under the hem of his jacket and t-shirt to touch the skin he had missed so badly.

"I know, I just couldn't…" Ichigo pulled back as much as he could in that tight grip, grasping Aizen's shoulders tightly as he leaned in to kiss him again, the slightest flick of a tongue against his lips making him shudder in sudden need. The redhead pulled back again, almost grudgingly. "There's so much I have to say to you."

"And I to you." Aizen breathed against his lips, his eyes alight and amused as they regarded him beneath heavy lids. The composure that he once prided himself upon possessing had been washed away beneath that kiss, utterly destroyed in Ichigo's embrace.

There was a sudden silence ringing all around them, and for the first time since he had zeroed in upon a red presence he cast a glance around to gauge the situation.

The bar had gone all but silent, every person staring at the two of them as they embraced. The concierge at the door twitched where he stood, seemingly baffled by the entire situation. Aizen felt a smirk tug at his lips, it was about time someone came along to shake these smug bastards up.

Ichigo seemed to notice the silence at the same moment that he did, if the sudden blush that flooded his cheeks was any indication.

"It's a bit crowded here…" Aizen brushed his nose along the curve of Ichigo's jaw, still reluctant to let him go despite the dagger stares that surrounded them. "Shall we go?"

"Yeah." The redhead spoke almost breathlessly against his lips, looking as though he was barely able to contain himself as he pulled away.

Aizen didn't let go of his hand for even an instant as the crowd parted before him, still staring and silent. The feeling of so many eyes upon him made Aizen's skin crawl, but the quiet warmth of Ichigo's hand grounded him. Nobody tried to stop or challenge him, despite the scene they had just made. The establishment of this particular place knew better than that, though he had a sneaking suspicion that he may have just lost a portion of the high respect they held for him.

Let them think what they want, he couldn't care less right then.

They swept past the dumbstruck man at the door and burst out into the coolness of the night. Ichigo sighed deeply as the air brushed against his skin, his cheeks were suddenly too warm and his lungs breathless. He hadn't quite expected things to go that way, but he'd hyped himself up to such an extent on the run over that when he finally burst through the doors of the bar it seemed like it was the only logical course of action left to him, as though he could communicate the myriad of emotion that coiled in his insides in one fervid embrace.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't slightly surprised when Aizen had pulled him close, recognising a familiar emotion in his body, in his kiss. His cheeks flared harder when he thought of it. He could still feel the warm weight of Aizen's hand in his own and it sent sparks zipping across his skin.

He turned to see familiar eyes regarding him through a mask. But he had just seen it slip and what he saw behind it captivated him. He would give anything to hold onto that.

"Where do you want to-"

"Home." Aizen hooked an arm around Ichigo's shoulders, pulling him close. "Then we'll talk."

Ichigo's heart was thrumming uncomfortably beneath the heat of that gaze, the arm around his shoulders a familiar weight as they started to walk. Their bodies fell easily together, something that they rarely did in public, certainly never in Karakura. But Aizen didn't seem to care right then, and Ichigo slipped his arm around the taller man's waist, quietly glad for the extra body heat against the coldness of the night.

They walked in silence for a moment, Ichigo suddenly unsure of what to say. He had burned himself up in the rush over, and after being accepted so readily he was starting to feel a little foolish about his dramatics. But then there was still the talk to come. He would save the heavy conversation until they reached Aizen's flat, but in the meantime there was a burning question that he wanted answered, even if only for his own amusement.

"You were at the bar on Friday weren't you?"

"Yes." Aizen replied, his voice rumbling through his chest into Ichigo's body. "Tōsen and I are old… associates. I went there to see him."

"Oh." That explained a lot. Though Ichigo couldn't quite help but notice the way Aizen phrased their relationship, as though he was reluctant to call him a friend. "Did he tell you what happened?"

"With your friend?" Ichigo nodded up at him, his expression suddenly troubled. He squeezed his shoulders slightly in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "Yes, he told me."

"And about Ichimaru?" Ichigo didn't miss the way Aizen's jaw tightened ever so slightly at the mention of the pale man.

"Gin will be dealt with." His voice was tight as he spoke and Ichigo remembered what Momo had said about his darkness, he could see it in his eyes then. Ichigo brushed his shoulder gently with the side of his face and he felt him relax a little against him. "He won't touch Kira again, I can promise you that."

"Thank you." Ichigo smiled up at him before cocking his head a little, a small amused expression peeling at the corners of his mouth. "Did you really beat up Grimmjow?"

"That's a slight over exaggeration."

"Sōsuke!" Ichigo tried to sound disapproving but couldn't quite manage it, and Aizen let out a small noise that may have been a laugh as his mouth quirked.

"I'm sorry, I may not have been fully in control of my faculties." He murmured, his arm tightening ever so slightly around him. "That seems to be happening at a disturbingly alarming rate when I'm around you."

"Hmm," Ichigo mused as he rested his head upon Aizen's shoulder. "Well I'd rather that you didn't beat up my friends."

"He was acting in a rather unsavoury manner towards you."

"He was just joking around." Ichigo scolded gently but Aizen didn't sound too convinced.

"If you say so."

Ichigo lifted his head to shoot him a look. He knew that, despite how he may deny it, Aizen was an incredibly overprotective person, and he wasn't so sure that he was entirely comfortable with the way he expressed it sometimes. Aizen was forced to relent under that look, trying his best to look contrite even with his mask still in place. "I apologise." He murmured softly, touching fingertips to Ichigo's lips as he spoke. "I will endeavour not to beat up your friends in future."

"As long as you're trying."

"Always." He smiled softly, but his eyes were set and cold as they darted to the side suddenly. "Ichigo…"

"Hmm?"

He leaned in to press a soft kiss to the top of his head, but his voice was low and tight when he whispered into in orange strands.

"Don't look around, but I believe we're being followed."