Soiled Berry
Disclaimer: My name is Anemone. I take too long with updates, and I do not own Bleach.
Dedicated to Sly-sama, my fangirl-esque cougar.
AN: Remember when I said the next update wouldn't take long? Well, clearly I lied. I do that a lot. Oops.
Chapter Two: And what have you learned?
Monday morning dawned warm and sunny. The sky was cloudless, dotted with chirping birds, and Ichigo found himself wishing to skip to the dojo where Kenpachi waited. Of course, he didn't because he was a man, and men didn't skip.
The streets were crowded; women, men, children and teens were on their way to work or school. Peach hands were stuffed into the pockets of dark jeans as he waited for the flashing sign above the crosswalk to change. He grew impatient, bouncing from foot to foot until the crowd surged forward.
Before he knew it, two blocks had been traversed in what felt like a matter of seconds. The brick building that was the dojo loomed before him, and Ichigo pushed open the heavy doors with a soft squeak. The smell of sweat and the clang of metal assaulted his senses, and he staggered back for a second, leaning against the wall for support, as his senses swam.
Brown eyes surveyed the scene. He had expected to find Kenpachi waiting for him, sword in hand and clad in sweat pants and a tight shirt, like every other day. What greeted him instead made his eyes widen and his jaw drop.
A blur of blue and white clashed with a mass of black and gray. Metallic cries, enraged shouts and vows of defeat littered the air. Ichigo's brain tried to process just what he had stumbled into.
"Kurosaki. Is. Mine. Understand?"
This voice, which seemed to be addressing Kenpachi, was one he had heard before. Frequently.
The memory hit him in a flash.
Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, whom Ichigo had had several sordid encounters with, had taken him to a late night movie.
"What'd ya say, brat? Wanna make this night a little more interesting?" That voice was a purr. Electric blue orbs were lust-filled.
"What, you don't like the movie?" Ichigo joked, fighting the excitement that always raced through him when Grimmjow was around.
The blue haired male didn't answer. Instead, tanned fingers found their way to his zipper.
Ichigo shook his head. This wasn't the time to be dreaming about the past.
()
"Heh, seems you've gotten some bad information." Kenpachi's guttural rasp was calm; gray-green eyes, however, held the thrill of battle. "Ichigo doesn't belong to anyone."
"I'm pretty sure he does," Grimmjow retorted, tone cocky and firm. "He's always been mine, and I don't see that changin' anytime soon." The grin that spread across his lips was predatory. He watched the orange haired youth from the corner of his eye.
"If Ichigo belongs to anyone, it's me." Other than the fighting stance and battle-thrilled gaze, Kenpachi acted like this was a normal conversation.
Grimmjow loathed the way this battle loving freak said his brat's name. It was like he was making love to it or something. The guy had to go. 'If I take care of this jerk, Kurosaki will finally be mine.' That was all the motivation he needed; with his sword at the ready, Grimmjow charged.
"I'll show you! I'll teach you not to mess with what's mine!" It was a proclamation made as the shiny blade deflected Kenpachi's cracked sword.
"Tch, all talk and no action." Kenpachi shook his head in disappointment.
It took a second for Grimmjow to realize that his full-force swing didn't make contact with the man's shoulder. He didn't lop off a limb, and he didn't show him who owned the brat.
"Wha-?" Grimmjow started to stammer, but the warm trickle of blood caught his attention. Electric blues tore from their frantic leap from Kenpachi to Ichigo to inspect the large gash trailing down his chest. It wasn't fatal, but it hurt like a bitch. Of course, he wasn't about to show pain in front of the maniacal bastard or his strawberry.
The blue eyed male was many things, but 'coward' wasn't one of them. He wasn't about to tuck his tail between his legs and limp home to lick his wounds. Instead, electric blues blazed as he turned to the black haired male.
"Don't think this is over," he growled through clenched teeth. With that, he spun and made his way toward the door.
()
Ichigo wasn't sure he liked the idea of two grown men fighting over him. He wasn't some damsel, and he damn sure wasn't a prize to be won. This wasn't the dark ages, after all; bloodshed wasn't required to proclaim affection, defend honor, or whatever it was these men were trying to prove.
His eyes widened as Grimmjow walked past him. He could tell the man was in pain, though he hid it well. "G-Grimmjow," he said softly, reaching out to grab the male's arm.
"Don't you worry, brat. I won't leave you with that freak for long. I'll be back." And with a soft squeak of the heavy doors, the blue haired man, and his electrifying gaze, left the dojo.
()
"Wanna tell me what that was?" Ichigo asked, inspecting Kenpachi for injuries.
"I'm fine, Ichigo." Kenpachi assured. "That was… a misunderstanding. Seems the kitten was misinformed as to who's your fated partner. That or he's delusional."
"So… You fought him?" Ichigo was still trying to piece everything together.
"He started it. I had to defend myself, y'know."
"As if he could hurt you," the orange haired youth snorted.
"Your confidence in my strength is flattering." Kenpachi's voice was almost velvet.
Ichigo lifted his head from his search of wounds on Kenpachi. The movement caused the lone bell in his hair to jingle. He felt gray-green eyes zoom in, searching through orange locks.
Peach fingers unthreaded the small melodic thing from its hold. It was then dropped into a beefy, outstretched hand.
"I'm ready," Ichigo murmured. Warm brown eyes dropped to the floor as a red blush stained his cheeks. He suddenly felt embarrassed, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably as his hand hovered over Kenpachi's.
Strong, calloused fingers clasped a soft yet muscular hand.
In the bat of a lash, Ichigo was hefted over Kenpachi's shoulder. He felt the world spin and all the blood rushed to his head as the man bounded down a winding hallway of the brick building.
"Where're we going?" Ichigo felt those strong fingers touching him; he felt a slight chill as the fabric of his jeans disappeared. "K-Kenpachi-!"
"Shhh, just relax Ichigo." That raspy voice was sultry and soothing.
When he felt those big fingers on his bare backside, all thoughts of decency in a public dojo – which wasn't at all crowded on an early Monday morning – fled from his mind. He squirmed, wanting more. A small mewl of appreciation sounded in the back of his throat as sensitive skin was kneaded and shaped.
The wild haired man kicked open a door at the end of the dimly lit hallway. A predatory grin split his lips as his eyes landed on the small bed in the sparsely furnished room. Without paying attention to his surroundings, he dropped the orange haired youth onto the bed, yanking off his shirt in the process.
Ichigo was a mess of gasps, pleas and quivering organs as saliva slickened fingers began to stretch him. His current state was due to Kenpachi's hot mouth engulfing his half-erect member and bringing it fully to life with a few sweeps of his tongue. He gripped thin mint green bedding as he pushed himself further into the maniacal man's mouth.
He couldn't take it anymore. Two fingers in, and he had already stimulated Ichigo's prostate. Feeling that tight opening contract around his digits made the pit of Kenpachi's stomach congeal into a mass of pleasure-tied knots. He pulled away the rough fingers, positioning the head of his member so that it grazed soft cheeks, looming above his tangerine lover.
"Ready, Ichigo?" Kenpachi's eyes swirled with lust, hunger and need.
Ichigo felt a faint blush across his cheeks, but he didn't care. Desire swirled inside him, and he just wanted Kenpachi to take that first plunge. "Yes," he moaned.
Strong arms were positioned on either side of Ichigo's head, holding Kenpachi above him. Rigid muscles grazed a peach, lithe physique. The frail, wooden bedframe shook from the movement of Kenpachi's first few thrusts, and Ichigo swore his insides were being ripped apart by the massive girth.
'Not even Kaien could've prepared me for this,' Ichigo thought, scowling at having called the mass of pink rubber by name.
The teen's thoughts were swept away as the next thrust rattled that small bundle of nerves. "Ah-a, yes," his toes curled and his back arched. Fingers twisted and knotted that wild mane of hair as the angle and pace changed.
For a first-timer, Ichigo was very vocal; he wasn't afraid to let the man above him know what he liked and what would never be done again. The nibbling and hair pulling was okay, the love-bites and sexual lingo wasn't. Kenpachi memorized all the sensitive areas of Ichigo's body, vowing that when his mind wasn't driven mad by the tightness of the boy's entrance he would properly lavish them with attention.
Kenpachi wasn't some inexperienced high school boy. He knew how to pace himself until both he and his lover were completely satisfied. However, ten minutes had passed since he had entered Ichigo, and he could already feel the flames of release spreading through his body. Soon, he would overflow and fill the boy to the brim.
Ichigo's fingers strayed from tangled black tendrils, down muscled skin in dark red lines. He felt the man shiver in pleasure and, encouraged, drew his nails back up to his neck once more.
"Mmm," Kenpachi moaned, burying his lips into Ichigo's neck. The sensitive leap of the boy's pulse was matched by the lapping of the green eyed male's tongue.
"Ken-pa-chi," Ichigo panted, drawing the man's name out in a moan. "I think… I'm…" He couldn't finish his sentence; all past orgasms – save for the one Kaien produced – had been self-induced, but he was pretty sure he could feel his climax approaching. Fast.
Gray-green eyes immediately shone with understanding, hunger and lust swirling behind it. "It's okay, Ichigo. Let go," the man cooed into the youth's ear.
With a quivering breath, Ichigo came. "Kenpachi," he was released after a few sharp gasps were inhaled and exhaled. White sticky substance soiled mint bedding and the muscular fingertips gliding along his shaft.
Another deep thrust, feeling Ichigo's inner walls contracting around him, and Kenpachi's vision swam. He gnawed along the sensitive peach neck skin, trailing from earlobe to shoulder, before spilling his seed and letting the flames of pleasure lick at his body. "Ichigo!" The roar echoed through the tiny room.
Kenpachi rolled onto his back, begrudgingly pulling out of the boy, and draping Ichigo over his chest. They lay in companionable silence, catching their breaths. Heartbeats and panting mixed together, and Ichigo drifted on the verge of sleep.
Ichigo had finally taken that final step. He lay there, wrapped in soiled sheets and feeling Kenpachi's soft breath in his hair, and fell into slumber with the realization that his innocence was gone, given to Kenpachi.
()()()
The End!