DISCLAIMER: Bleach is not mine.

WARNING: there is gratuitous use of the f-word here, mostly in Ichigo's thoughts.

This guy… Ichigo thought to himself. … What's up with him?

Aizen just cocked his head and stared at him with a sort of bemused interest, a faraway look in his coffee colored eyes. He studied Ichigo carefully, as if not quite sure how best to act next.

"What's wrong, Ryoka boy?" Aizen asked disinterestedly.

"What's wrong with me?" Ichigo shouted. "I was gonna ask you the same question, ya crazy bastard!"

"Now, Ichigo, that's not very polite," Aizen chuckled. "Besides, I asked first. What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid!" Ichigo insisted, pointing the blade of his zanpachuto straight at his enemy.

The older man once again walked up until he was right in front of him. He trailed his fingertips along Ichigo's chest and neck, reveling in the warmth. With his other hand, he lowered the younger boy's arm. He pried the boy's fingers open, causing his zanpachuto to fall to the ground with a clang.

A shiver ran through the boy's body. This just wasn't right.

Aizen couldn't suppress a smirk.

"Confused, are we?" he asked quietly, taking Ichigo's chin in his hand and lifting it so the boy was looking right at him, surveying them cryptically.

"One could quite easily get lost in your eyes," he commented, so quietly that he might have been talking to himself. "They are so expressive…so beautiful."

Ichigo cringed a bit.

"It's interesting," Aizen continued, a bit louder this time. "You are so stoic and unemotional on the surface. But your eyes…your eyes tell a different tale. Have you, for instance, ever heard the phrase 'the eyes are the windows to the soul'?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"When I look through the windows and into your soul, I see a kaleidoscope of many emotions, swirling and blending together like colors on a canvas. I can see everything that goes on in that mind of yours, Ichigo."

He stroked Ichigo's bright red hair before bringing his lips up to his ear.

"I can see it all…just by looking in your eyes."

The boy began to tremble. Was it the product of fear, or was it arousal? There was a very simple way to find out.

Aizen gently kissed the side of Ichigo's neck, causing the latter's breathing to quicken.

Satisfied with his reaction, Aizen bit down softly and started sucking at the exposed flesh. Within a few seconds, he was rewarded with a low, pleased groan on behalf of Ichigo.

"…Damn it," Ichigo muttered under his breath. "Cut it out."

Aizen moved his mouth higher up so he was on Ichigo's jaw.

Ichigo let out an involuntary moan.

"Leave me alone," he demanded, though his demand was half-hearted.

"Now, why would you want me to do that when you know you're enjoying it?" Aizen asked, licking the raw, red skin.

"Cut it out!"

"I don't think so."

Aizen laid another kiss on Ichigo's lips. Out of surprise, fear, or something else entirely, Ichigo found himself unable to fight against the older man.

This is wrong! Ichigo's mind screamed at him. You are kissing a fucking guy who just happens to be your worst fucking enemy!

Aizen pinned Ichigo against a wall, still continuing to kiss him passionately.

Ichigo's mind was still shouting vulgarities at him, but for some reason he couldn't summon the willpower to pull away.

Not that he could pull away when he was flat against a wall, anyway.

After what seemed like a considerable amount of time, Aizen released Ichigo, still wearing that self-satisfied smirk.

"That was wrong," Ichigo said in between loud, panting breaths.

"Admit it, boy. You liked that."

Ichigo's face turned beet red. He stuck his chest out in defiance. "I did not…" he trailed off. He realized, deep down, some sick, twisted, messed-up part of him had liked it.

Some seriously messed-up part of him.

"Still," Aizen said offhandedly, "Whether or not it's…as you say, 'messed-up', it is still a part of it, is it not, Kurosaki-kun?"

"Wait a minute, how did you-"

"Your mind is an open book to me, little Ryoka boy. Your thoughts and memories are all laid out for me to read.

The boy was silent. He stared at some unseen point in the distance, going ever so slightly cross-eyed, brow knit together.

Aizen laughed.

""What's so damn funny?" Ichigo asked sharply.

"Oh, it's that look on your face. You always make it when you're confused."

"So? What makes it so damn funny?"

"It's just another one of your little quirks that I find simply irresistible."

A cold shiver ran up Ichigo's spine when Aizen breathed the last word of that sentence. There was something not right about the silky, seductive tone of his voice.

Then again, lots of things were wrong with Aizen. He was a sadist, he had a god complex, he was just too damn sexy for his own good, he…

Get a fucking grip! He yelled at himself, clenching his hands into fists. He is a fucking guy! Get a fucking hold on yourself! You are not fucking gay!

Aizen tilted his head to one side.

"You think about Rukia with that mind?" he joked.

"Shut the fuck up," Ichigo spat. "I came here to fight you, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do!"

Aizen sighed dramatically as he drew his zanpachuto.

"Oh well," he said, sounding lovelorn and martyr like. "I promise I won't kill you."

"Yeah," Ichigo replied. "Cause I'm gonna kill you first!"

End of chapter two! I don't know where to go from here, so it might be a while before I actually come out with chapter three.