Voices echoed and filled the entire lobby. It made Ichigo's hands itch to rip out their tongues, it made him want to just choke them all to death.
Why's a kid here? Is he allowed to be here? Looks homeless, has anyone told Hirako-san? Is that the artist our boss commissioned? He looks so... zombie-like.
Ichigo takes a deep breath and closes his eyes before they glare holes through the wall he was painting on. It's all okay... this is better than most of his other commissions. No one's trying to get in his pants and no one's trying to touch him.
"I wonder if Kisuke-san is busy..." Ichigo releases his breath as a small smile quirks up.
It's only been a few days since their... their date. They went on a date. Kisuke took him on a date. Willingly, out of his own interest and genuine curiosity. He even had Ichigo put his own phone number into his phone. That's right... he must be busy then... not a single text since that evening.
Ichigo sighs longingly, expression almost aging in his sudden exhaustion. He leans back to raise his palette to get more turquoise on his brush.
After actually discussing the commission with Shinji, what the art piece was going to be and the estimated payment as well as the added information that the department would pay for all of his supplies–in full, Ichigo took the commission despite his earlier gripes. He probably would have still taken it if the money wasn't as good as it was.
Shinji gave him freedom of what the design would be, only if it revolves around turquoise and lily of the valley flowers. Not only did it mean Ichigo could actually paint what he wanted, but it also would give him a well-connected piece to his portfolio and name as an artist.
"...he's quite cute, you know. Still lanky like a teenager, I bet it'd be so easy to fuck him against the wall..." Ichigo's ears suddenly tune into a quiet conversation near him. Too quiet to be heard everywhere, but loud enough to be heard over the rest of the incessant whispers.
"Shush! He might hear you!" A woman hisses back, clearly not unnerved by the statement. Ichigo rolls his eyes, feeling his mood dip below worse.
"C'mon! You know he would be! He's one of those people that's addicted to being hurt. I bet he's fucked up like that!" The man, who spoke first, speaks once more and dismisses the woman's warning.
Poke his eye out with the paintbrush.
Force him to eat it, then claw out the other.
I'm addicted to Kisuke and only Kisuke.
Ichigo grinds his teeth together, pressing the paintbrush almost too roughly on the wall. He actively has to think about releasing the sudden pressure, not wanting to ruin the entire piece.
"I've heard it all before. He's just more vocal about it than the rest." He takes a breath and forces the mounting anger deep down. "You're almost done with the focal point of the piece. Get it finished and go home."
A sudden vibration in his hoodie pocket almost makes him mess up the continuous stroke he was doing. Ichigo slowly lifts the brush away from the wall before he could mess it up and takes out his phone with the same hand.
XXX-XXX-XXXX: Good afternoon, Ichigo-kun! I apologize for not texting any sooner, I had given Yoruichi her gift of cat toys.
Ichigo's posture straightens as a bright grin appears on his face. His fingers type an answer faster before his thoughts could organize themselves into formulate one.
Ichigo: I'm surprised she hasn't killed you. How did you escape?
XXX-XXX-XXXX: I haven't. I'm still hiding, but I have the time to text you!
XXX-XXX-XXXX: Also, Kuchiki-kun has been ranting about a certain orange haired brat that keeps taking his sister on a secret trip every year for only a night. I was wondering if you knew anything about that.
Ichigo: Nosy much? It's nothing he needs to worry about. Just a celebration of sorts.
Ichigo sends the message before clicking on the random number, quickly changing it to Kisuke's name. Everything around him is ignored and disappears as he keeps every little piece of his attention on his obsession.
Kisuke: Not even going to tell me?
Ichigo: No.
Kisuke: Even if there's a date in it for you?
Ichigo: Hmmm... What will the date be?
Kisuke: Dinner? Your choice, whatever you want. Would that suffice?
Ichigo: That really nice place. The one a few blocks away from that cafe. Dinner and drinks and maybe I'll consider telling you.
Kisuke: Perfect! Friday?
Ichigo: I work Friday until 8:00. I can do Saturday or Sunday. I'm off those days.
Kisuke: We can always have a late dinner. Besides, it's always busy in the evenings.
Ichigo: Then Friday sounds amazing.
Kisuke: I'll pick you up at 9:00 then. Make sure to take breaks today!
Ichigo: There's no need for that, Kisuke-san!
Ichigo: Kisuke-san?
"Idiot! It's not that far from my apartment..." Ichigo mutters fondly, staring down at his phone screen. He shakes his head and puts up his phone, head filled with Kisuke. He doesn't pay attention to how Kisuke never asked for his address.
I want to see him now.
I want to touch him.
I want to kiss him.
I want him. I want him. I want–
"I'm impressed. You've been sitting here for hours and don't even look the slightest bit bored." Ichigo tenses at the feeling of disgusting, hot, musky breath brushing against his ear. He casually tilts his head away to turn it and immediately comes to face a man leaning over him.
His fingers twitch to claw that awful smirk that seemed plastered on the man's face. Ichigo slowly grips his paintbrush instead.
"Well, I wouldn't be a good artist if I got bored after a few hours..." He retorts in a cold tone, hoping the man would take the message and leave.
"Is this your first commission? You look young for an artist," The man asks, pushing on with the conversation. Ichigo internally groans as he focuses back on the wall.
"I've done many commissions for my old high school. And I'm twenty and seeing someone, so I'm not interested," Ichigo answers, putting more paint on his paintbrush.
The man chuckles and places a hand on Ichigo's shoulder, making him freeze. "Now, now. No need to be so shy, pretty boy. I just wanna talk!"
Ichigo stares at the hand through his peripherals. He slowly turns his paint brush in his hands, so he was gripping around it like a knife.
Off. Off. Off off off offoffoffoffoffoffoff.
Don't touch me!
Get your filthy hand off of me!
Stab him, stab him, stab him, STAB HIM!
Everything started to itch. The man's close enough for him to stab out his eye. He wants to claw off his skin. He can stab the man in the eye. Ichigo watches his own hand rise.
"Ahane," A booming voice makes everything come back to Ichigo. He turns his head as his hand instinctively relaxes.
Shinji stood by the elevator with a serious fury in his expression, glaring at the man that was touching Ichigo. Ichigo feels his face twitch heavily when the man's hand tightens around his shoulder.
"Hirako-san. I didn't realize you were in the office," The man states conversationally, finally releasing Ichigo's shoulder.
Shinji stays completely silent as he walks forward. Ichigo glances at the man who touched him before adjusting his paintbrush once more. He goes back to painting the wall.
"Ahane, to my office now. Ichigo..." The young man glances up with a scowl at being interrupted again, this time by Shinji.
"Is everyone going to be interrupting my last hour of work for the day?! What?" Ichigo snaps, dropping his hands into his lap. He's careful to keep the paint from getting on his pants.
"Ya okay? Ahane didn't do anythin' to ya?" Shinji asks, genuinely worried in a carefree way. Ichigo sighs heavily and exaggerates his head turning back towards the wall.
"Just some borderline harassment. I'm used to it, if you can believe that." Shinji doesn't leave, or say anything, making Ichigo sigh again. "Yes, I'm okay, asshole. Now leave me alone and go be late for another meeting of yours. You and your gossiping department are starting to give me a migraine."
"Alright. Let me or Hinamori-chan know if ya need anythin'. See ya," Shinji says with a shrug. Ichigo watches him leave through his peripheral, eyes narrowing slightly.
He wants to claw the skin off his shoulder. It was still itching.
Kisuke fixes the folded up sleeve of his button up shirt. He glances back at the tablet screen, waiting for the moment Ichigo comes home from his shift.
It was already Friday. The day Kisuke and Ichigo would go on their second date.
Kisuke licks the inside of his teeth, already picturing Ichigo dressed somewhat formally for it all. He wonders how he'll be with a little buzz in his system. He wonders if Ichigo's a lightweight.
Kisuke snaps back into reality when he hears the front door open through the screen. He leans forward, both hands gripping the tablet.
Ichigo rushes into his apartment, stumbling over his feet as he kicks off his shoes. A bright grin seemed to be stuck on his exhausted face.
"He's so excited for our date." Kisuke distantly feels a smile grow on his own face by just watching his lovely Ichigo.
This must mean Ichigo loves him. A significant amount too. He has to. He wouldn't be so excited for a second date if he didn't. He might even allow Kisuke take him home for the night.
Kisuke sighs at the thought of bringing Ichigo here, to his home. Show off the wonderful skyline. Show that Ichigo and his art would thrive here. Show that Ichigo won't ever even need to leave the apartment.
I could keep him here. Break his legs.
Keep him locked up in this room.
Tied to the bed. Like a pretty little doll.
Always waiting for me at the end of the day.
A muffled groan brings Kisuke out of his thoughts. He glances back at the tablet screen, brain freezing and thoughts shattering at the scene that comes to focus.
Ichigo was in the shower, steam billowing up from the scalding water. He had his teeth clenched around his hand, leaning his head back against the bathroom tile. His hand moved up and down against his cock, legs twitching and shaking as if he was a second away from collapsing.
"Kis–Kishke!" Ichigo whimpers through his hand, voice barely heard through the camera.
A bullet of pleasure and addicting want slams into Kisuke's heart. His breath stutters out of his mouth, a shaking hand taking out his hardening cock from his pants.
The water fell off of Ichigo's body, leaving trails of pink skin. His chest rapidly rises and falls for air, the skin over his ribs moving like a living organism of its own. Ichigo arches his back and bites into his hand harder, blood mixing with the water while it dripped down his arm.
Kisuke groans loudly, eyes refusing to budge from the beautiful scene in front of him. He could cum by just watching Ichigo alone.
A high pitched whine leaves Ichigo's exposed throat. He strokes his dick faster as his eyes roll into the back of his head. He releases his hand from his mouth to claw for anything to hold onto from the wall behind him.
"Kisuke! Please, please!" Ichigo begs as if Kisuke was in the shower with him. Kisuke clenches his teeth, stroking himself in time with the pretty little thing that was unknowingly giving him a show.
Look at him. So beautiful. So good.
Giving me a show. Like he knows I'm watching.
Come on, Ichigo. Cum. Show me what you're willing to give me.
"Ichigo!" Kisuke groans loudly, his own hand stroking faster.
He wishes with every fiber of his being that he was there. He'd be listening for it–waiting for it. He'd grab Ichigo and fuck him up against the wall until he came. He'd keep fucking him until he couldn't cum anymore. He'd continue even as Ichigo would start to try and push him away–away from the pleasure, away from the pain. He wouldn't stop fucking his lovely Ichigo until the water was cold and he passed out.
Kisuke feels his eyes close at the image of a limp, unconscious Ichigo in his arms sliding up and down against the wall like a puppet with no strings as Kisuke continued to fuck into him. Still moaning and crying for more even while unconscious. Still calling out Kisuke's name. His name and no one else's.
"Kisuke~! A-ah! Close–I'm close... please!" Ichigo's voice pitches higher, calling for Kisuke. The pale blonde moans and almost cums right there at how sweetly his name sounded in Ichigo's pleasure.
"Cum. Come on, Ichigo... cum for me," Kisuke orders, even though he couldn't hear his voice. Kisuke strokes himself faster, almost reaching the peak.
"Kis–Kisuke–" A shattered wail falls out of Ichigo's mouth when he finally cums, bringing Kisuke to completion with a groan of his own.
Kisuke breathes heavily, eyes slowly blinking open. He aimlessly stares at the ceiling as he calms down.
I need to convince him to live with me...
I have to have him with me.
I need him with me. Forever.
"I can't be patient. I need him to be mine." Kisuke clenches his hand around the tablet. His eyes darken and bloodlust simmers beneath his skin when he remembers why he planned this date so soon.
Hirako Shinji. They were... friends of sorts, but there was an unspoken deal that neither person would mess with the other if they could help it. Everything was going okay, and then Shinji hires Ichigo for a commission.
Kisuke knows how Shinji works. He doesn't care about art or making something look nice. Yet, he still asked Byakuya for any suggestions on good artists. He knows, and Kisuke knows he knows; just like how he knows this is Shinji's warning. Don't take it too far... like Kisuke ever did!
Not only that, but Ichigo got harassed–touched by some puny little employee of Shinji's... and he was too late to stop it. When Yoruichi told Kisuke, of course he immediately watched the security cameras.
He'd have to mess with this Ahane Masamune another day, but that doesn't stop Kisuke from planning ahead all the things he'll get done with that man's help–well, the man's body in his experiments and test runs.
It was glorious to watch Ichigo almost stab the man with a paintbrush because of a simple touch. It made him want to laugh with glee at the hidden implication that he, Urahara Kisuke, was special to Ichigo. He was allowed to do things to Ichigo while others aren't, because Ichigo would let it slide if it was Kisuke doing it.
But, even with all this good information, good knowledge... Kisuke wasn't going fast enough. He was going too slow, even if he was being thorough. He doesn't know what could make Ichigo leave. Doesn't know what might make him run away. He needs to do something–anything to see how far he can go with Ichigo.
Ichigo never said anything, didn't even seem to realize that Kisuke wanted to see how he would react to his anger–even if it wasn't pointed towards the young man–that day at the mall. He didn't realize or didn't care about Kisuke's implication that he knew the address to his apartment when they planned their second date.
But that's not nearly enough information. He needs more information. More knowledge about Ichigo and his reactions... what should he do?
He couldn't hurt anyone Ichigo cared about. That would send the wrong message, and Kisuke's pretty sure that Ichigo would freeze Hell over just so he could find whoever hurt them. Destroying any of his art was appalling to even Kisuke. It would be like someone destroying one of Kisuke's inventions. He would have to do something to Ichigo... but what should he do?
Drug him.
Drug him. Take him home.
Let him sleep in safety.
Excitement starts to bubble up as ideas and thoughts race through Kisuke's mind. A manic smile starts to stretch across his face.
Ichigo's most likely a lightweight... Kisuke could sneak a drug in his drink–nothing big and nothing too much, but just enough.
He starts to chuckle, getting up from the edge of his bed to freshen up. If he doesn't leave now, he might be late in picking his lovely Ichigo up. And he can't have that!
Ichigo notes the time on his phone before he checks for any new messages. 8:54.
"He still has six minutes until 9:00... and we're going to a busier side of the city. There could be traffic..." Ichigo reassures himself, pacing around his apartment once again.
He reaches up and messes with the ruby dangling earrings he chose for the date. Maybe he should change... is he dressed too formally? No! No, he's fine! Right?
Ichigo messes with the sleeves of his shirt, turning around to walk into the bathroom. He turns on the light and stares at himself through the mirror.
He wore a black turtleneck shirt with a grey button up shirt over it, black slacks, and his ruby earrings. He brushed through his hair, leaving it to fall over his face and frame it, and the bags underneath his eyes had actually faded. It looked like he hadn't slept in a few days instead of looking like he hadn't slept in a week.
"I look fine–it's fine. It'll be good," Ichigo thinks with a shaky breath. He slaps his own cheeks before shaking out his hands. He checks the time again. 8:56.
Ichigo takes a deep breath, calming his nerves, and leaves the bathroom. He's about to walk towards the front door to put on his shoes when his phone vibrates in his hand.
Kisuke: I'm right outside.
Ichigo: I told you, you didn't have to pick me up! I'm on my way.
Ichigo rushes over to his shoes and puts them on, already turning off the apartment lights and opening the door. He slips his phone into his pocket before closing the door behind him.
He places a shaking hand over his chest, feeling it almost burst out of his own chest from how fast it was beating. Ichigo leans his head against his front door and grins up at the hallway ceiling.
"Let this be a good night!" Ichigo mentally prays. He takes another deep breath and starts to walk down the hall. Honestly... good or bad, as long as he's with Kisuke, he hopes this night never ends.
Hey! Hope you all like the new chapter! Just a little bit shorter than the previous ones, but I didn't think the rest I had planned for this chapter would fit well.
Don't worry, the next chapter will definitely be the second date, and the rest that I had initially planned for THIS chapter. And maybe some death. Who knows?
I hope you all are enjoying the story so far! Bye!
WhovianWhoudini
