Chapter 8

3 Years Later

Music blared, the smell of sweat and booze hovering over the many dancing bodies like a rain cloud. In the midst of it all orange hair stood out, vibrant in the blaring lights and dark shadows of corners.

Shiro watched closely, a young boy sat on his lap, Shiro's cock the only thing on his mind. If he wanted to burn Shiro was almost glad to obliged to his needy mewls and pawing hands. He finally gave in when the boy nibbled his ear, kissing him deeply. His eyes stayed open though, watching as a man approached Ichigo. He had blue hair that stood up in all directions, his body bulky with muscle. His eyes read lust and he made his intent obvious when he kissed a trail up Ichigo's neck with little introduction.

Ichigo was pressed against the wall, his body clad in skank like clothing. He looked to be the tightest bitch around, but also the priciest. Shiro would have rather have him covered up, but Ichigo was in a rebellious stage he did not feel the need to interfere with. He would let Ichigo have his fun, but afterwards he would beat the shit out of him.

And by beating he meant putting him back in his place, which would be fun on both parties if Shiro was good tempered that day.

Ichigo found the man to be his type and led him to the bathroom, Shiro catching a small glimpse of his fangs as he grinned. The man was about to experience what was to die for.

Shiro pulled away from the little boy with a chuckle when he bit his tongue, plucking him off his lap and bending him over the bar. The bartender smirked knowingly, the boy gasping in surprise. When Shiro pulled down his pants the boy's heart beat sped up, Shiro running a hand up his smooth ass before giving it a hard smack.

Ichigo couldn't have all the fun.

No one interfered when he stuck two fingers into the boys tight ass, his squeak of pain a minor nuisance.

Heaven was an underground club meant for sex and drinks. Anyone could have sex in the open, but rape was forbidden. Whoever dared to rape another never left the club. Shiro heard rumors that the men who committed the crimes were raped till they die, which was rather interesting.

He looked up to the bartender with a smirk as he pushed into the boy, the bartender leaning forward.

Shiro kissed him, the boy watching them with keen interest. He began to scream though when Shiro tilted to another angle, clawing the wood of the counter. A few men watched, cheering Shiro on. Shiro groaned into the bartender's mouth when the boy clenched around him, slapping his ass before digging his nails into his flesh, thrusting faster.

"Harder!" the boy screamed, Shiro doing just that. The boy was too lost in ecstasy to even realize he was slowly dying, his blood boiling in his veins. His cheeks were red with arousal, his ass so hot Shiro felt like he was putting his cock into boiling water. The boy came onto the floor with a scream, falling limply against the counter.

"The bitch passed out!" a man laughed, Shiro gently pulling out of him after cumming, letting him fall to the floor. His body was hot, so by the time it was cold and they realized he was dead, Shiro would be long gone.

He wanted to feel sympathy for the boy but couldn't find the will too.

He should have thought twice before fucking a complete stranger. He zipped himself up and walked to the bathroom, everyone going back to their dancing, the bartender taking care of the boy.

"Marco?"

Shiro was slightly intrigued when he heard a resounding moan of pollo, watching with a raised eyebrow as he saw Ichigo was being fucked hard on the bathroom floor. He rolled his eyes.

Of all things he taught him, he should have known better to lay on that dirty floor.

The guy who was fucking him sat up, keeping his cock deep inside Ichigo as he looked to Shiro.

His eyes were a piercing blue, his features pulled into a snarl of pleasure. He panted like a dog, rolling his hips and grinding into Ichigo's sweet spot, Shiro smirking when Ichigo's breath caught in his throat and his hands came up to grab the man's shoulders.

"Don't stop," Ichigo begged with a shaky moan, the man forgetting about Shiro and going back to Ichigo. Ichigo linked his ankles around his waist, rocking with each of the man's thrusts, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

"Gr-Grimmjow harder!" Ichigo gasped, Shiro sighing as he felt this game was close to ending. He strode forward and grabbed Grimmjow's hair, pulling his head back and exposing his throat. Grimmjow blinked in confusion, stilling inside of Ichigo.

Ichigo opened his eyes just in time to see Shiro sink his teeth into Grimmjow's neck, his mouth closing and pulling down into a frown.

He fell back against the floor, groaning when Grimmjow fell to the floor, his breathing barely audible. He wasn't dead, just out cold. He would wake up in the morning when his body made all the blood he had lost. He would remember Ichigo, but it would feel more like what had happened was a dream.

"Don't play with food Ichi."

"For the love of Satan! Shiro why do you do that every time I'm about to explode!" Ichigo roared as he stood, stumbling to the side when Shiro slapped him. He touched a hand to his cheek, glaring daggers at Shiro.

"I'm getting tired of this act Ichigo," Shiro sighed, Ichigo raising his hand to hit him. But when he was met with yellow eyes he lowered his hand. Shiro's eyes returned to normal.

"If you're so tired of it then why do you keep letting me do it?" Ichigo asked haughtily.

Shiro didn't answer.

Ichigo threw his hands up in the air, stomping over to his clothes and pulling them back on, his erection long gone.

Shiro stood against the door, taking out a cigarette.

"I thought you quit those," Ichigo reminded him, Shiro flipping him off.

"It won't kill me, I just had to stop because everyone was expecting I was supposed to be dying."

Ichigo understood what he meant. Things like that never hurt them, but surrounded by humans did have its downsides. Everyone expects them to be dead from half the shit they do.

Ichigo's cheeks heated up when he remembered when they had first moved to Tokyo and lived in an apartment complex. Shiro had fucked and worked him over so good and so hard, but his screams of ecstasy had worried their neighbors. Having the cops interrupt their sex was embarrassing enough, not that the old lady almost fainted when she saw Shiro deep inside of him was as embarrassing. The cops left with deep apology and Shiro continued.

He never did see the old lady after that.

He was guessing she had probably died of a heart attack after seeing that. Not that he actually cared anymore.

"Why don't you ever stop me?" Ichigo asked as they left the bathroom, Shiro's hand in his gently guiding him to the exit.

Shiro was quiet till they got outside, Ichigo breathing in the cold air with a shiver. He looked up to the night sky, for a second feeling like he was in a dream. He pushed closer to Shiro, taking away the warmth he had gained after drinking Grimmjow's blood. He would stay warm for a long time, he would get cold if he didn't feed regularly.

He would go insane with hunger if he didn't anyway.

"Why stop you, when I could wait till you see the error in your ways?" Ichigo slowly pulled away from him, feeling childish beneath the stare he was giving him. He sometimes forgot that Shiro was decades older than him.

He was 300 years old, turning 301 in december. Ichigo was only twenty. He looked down to the frosted ground, kicking the snow that had fallen the day prior.

"I know I'm yours, but why is it so wrong to sleep around? I won't get any diseases. Or die anytime soon for that matter."

Shiro snorted, ruffling his hair before he began the short walk home.

"It's not about what you might get, but who you might bump into."

Ichigo was confused. He hadn't met anyone dangerous in his whole year of sleeping around. Sure some of his lover's were kinky or had weird fetishes, but most of the time they just wanted to fuck. He wanted to fuck too. Shiro wasn't always up for sex, and since Ichigo's body felt ageless and healthy, he was always up for sex.

What did Shiro expect him to do, ignore the fact he was a male who had needs?

Ichigo growled beneath his breath and ran to Shiro's side, grabbing his arm and pulling him close. Shiro didn't say anything, but a small smile settled on his lips.

XXX

"Shiro wake up!"

"No."

"Please wake up?"

An exaggerated snore.

"If you don't wake up I'll go out on my own."

Blue eyes opened slowly. Shiro rolled onto his stomach, glaring daggers at Ichigo who sat on the side of the bed. His brown eyes were bright with hunger, lust, and energy, everything Shiro wasn't at the moment. He leaned up and grabbed Ichigo's neck, pulling him down to the bed. He snuggled his face, ignoring his yelp of surprise and anger.

"Let go of me you big idiot!" Ichigo snarled, gasping when Shiro tightened his arm around his neck.

"Shud up," Shiro slurred sleepily, opening one eye to look to the boarded window of their home. After a couple similar incidents in the apartment complex they moved to a house that had been abandoned. With help from a friend water ran from every faucet and shower, money was abundant, and Ichigo shut up about rats. He was always complaining about those things.

"Why do you always get up so early?" Shiro muttered when he glanced to the clock. Thanks to winter the sun went down earlier, so the red lights flashed 7:30 in the dark. Not exactly a time Shiro wanted to wake up at.

Why not just wake up at ten instead? Or twelve?

"Correction, I am not waking up early. The sun just decided to go down a little earlier."

All pretense of the night before was forgotten as Shiro sat up, letting go of Ichigo who decided to sit down on the bed as Shiro got ready to go and get something to eat.

"You haven't eaten in two days," Shiro reminded him as he walked to the bathroom stark naked, Ichigo shrugging his shoulders.

"I should be alright," he replied, Shiro peeking his head outside the door.

"You can only play with your food and not eat for so long Ichigo, sooner or later you'll get hungry and devour more than you should."

Ichigo shrugged it off, Shiro leaving him be. He could only lecture for so long before he got tired of it all.

Ichigo laid down on the bed, wiggling around before resting. He heard the shower turn on, the sound of the rushing water like a lullaby to his ears. He closed his eyes, thinking back to a memory that seemed to only have happened yesterday.

"That soda is lemon soda! You already know Yuzu is allergic to it but you brung it here anyway!"

Ichigo couldn't help but smile. Karin. Yuzu. Dad.

He had thought he had forgotten about them a long time ago. But after only three years, you could only forget so much he guessed.

He sat up, his sudden happiness and energy slowly drawing out of him. He brought his legs to his chest, placing his chin on his knees. He closed his eyes, thinking back to the few months in America he had spent with Karin.

Those months had gone by so slow yet so fast, he sometimes wished it would never end, and other times almost begged time to speed up. When he came back and met up with Yuzu he could have cried.

Then Shiro took his first step into his life.

Ichigo felt a sudden urge he hadn't felt since his awakening. He wanted to go back to sleep. Forever.

He wanted to return to that place of darkness where that voice was. The voice told him what he could and couldn't do, things that urked Ichigo to no end, but now he kind of regretted saying yes to that voice when it asked him if he wanted this.

He hadn't had a single fucking clue about what the voice was talking about, besides those few simple words that would have led to his permanent slumber or awakening.

"Do you, Ichigo Kurosaki, want what Shirosaki Zangetsu has offered to you?"

"Yes," he had replied, so frightened at that time.

"Anything to escape this darkness."

The very thing he could never have was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to see the sun, feel the warmth of it's light. See his family one last time before he was doomed forever. Before he woke up, a different voice had spoken to him.

"Your family has forgotten about you Ichigo, but don't worry, I'll always be here for you." Ichigo didn't know whose voice that was, but it soothed and scared him. It held a promise he hoped was never fulfilled, yet gave a presence he never wanted to leave. He felt like he was supposed to know who the voice belonged to. But Shiro was secretive even after the three years they spent together. For some reason, Ichigo felt like Shiro was afraid more of who the voice belonged to, more than the fact that Ichigo was hearing it.

Ichigo was pulled from his musings when the water stopped, the room once again filled with silence.

Ichigo looked to the clock, frowning when he realized it had only been ten minutes. Three years had flew by, yet ten minutes took a decade.

He cracked an unwilling smile, standing up with a snort as his thoughts took a turn for happiness avenue.

His family was dead to him now… At least that is what he will keep telling himself.

Author's note: Grimmjow made his entrance, but for how long?