Thanks for reading and reviewing!
To arrabyul: I don't know if it would be considered so in the eyes of the law - it probably is, but it is questionable in my book, that's for sure. And in this chapter, it definitely is.
Ahem...so...I did warn you guys that this story is pretty twisted, so please keep in mind that this is not a fluffy love story (at least not yet). I mean for it to be a RenIchi ultimately, so...in the meantime, hold on to your seats and hang on!
"Hi," Ichigo said. He stood in front of the redhead, feeling slightly uncomfortable. But he just had to get to the bottom of it. "May I join you?"
The man gestured to the empty bar stool next to him and nodded.
Ichigo hopped on it and ordered a light cocktail; he didn't want to risk getting trashed again. He didn't exactly miss the after effects of his last escapade, which brought him to the reason he was now sitting next to a complete stranger. When the drink arrived, he sipped slowly, the gears in his mind churning for a way to approach the subject.
The whole time, the red-haired man just sat next to him in silence, but Ichigo could feel his gaze on him.
Finally, Ichigo decided to go for it. "I met you here once," he began. He left his sentence open and looked up at the man.
The corners of the man's mouth curled up into a sly smile. "Maybe," he said.
Ichigo suppressed his anger, which was beginning to bubble in his chest. The fucker was obviously playing with him.
"I know we've met, even though I don't remember much of it," Ichigo insisted. He saw the stranger's grin widen. "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo, maybe that'll help jog your memory," he added, unable to completely hide his sarcasm.
The man held up his glass and saluted Ichigo. "Abarai Renji," he said.
Ah, so that was the name that he'd been trying to remember. Ichigo relaxed slightly, feeling relieved that he was finally on the right track.
"Yes, we have met," Renji said, his eyes never leaving Ichigo's.
Ichigo felt a tingle down his spine. He disliked how Renji was toying with him, but he could not deny that the man was good-looking in an exotic kind of way. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Renji's gaze even if he wanted to.
"Can you tell me what happened?" Ichigo asked. When Renji cocked an eyebrow, he quickly added, "After we met, I meant. I was…" He swallowed, feeling more than a little embarrassed. "I was, uh, too drunk to remember."
Renji chuckled softly; Ichigo could sense the hint of amusement in it, and it pissed him off. He was about to snap at Renji when the man suddenly spoke.
"This place is kind of loud to have a lengthy conversation, don't you think?"
It was obviously a rhetorical question, and Renji was already sliding off his stool and pushing his empty glass towards the bartender. Ichigo pursed his lips, torn between caution and curiosity. What was that phrase again?
Never trust a stranger.
That was it, or something along those lines. His mother had said that to him more times than he could remember. It was common sense; he didn't know Renji, the man was bordering on creepy, he seemed to like playing mind games. He was the epitome oftrouble. There was no doubt what Ichigo should do.
He slid off the bar stool and followed Renji towards the exit.
It was easier than he thought, Renji mused. Almost too easy; it was like the kid was asking for it. He held the door open for Ichigo and watched the boy step into his apartment. His eyes lingered on the kid's ass. The memory on that Friday night resurfaced, and Renji was beginning to think that it won't be long before the same thing happened . He was sure of it. And if Shuuhei was as persuasive as he always was, Ichigo won't be the floppy puppet that he was last time.
He gestured for Ichigo to make himself comfortable on the couch, then he slipped into his bedroom and flipped his cell phone open.
"He's here," he said simply when Shuuhei answered the call. His friend didn't even bother to reply; all Renji heard was a throaty chuckle, and then the line went dead.
Renji did a quick mental calculation - it would take Shuuhei fifteen, maybe twenty minutes to get here. In the meantime, he should entertain their guest. He went back into the living room to check on Ichigo.
The boy was sitting on the couch, his body leaning forward with his elbows resting on his thighs. He looked tense, uncomfortable. His cheeks were lightly flushed from the cocktail he had at the bar, but he was nowhere near drunk.
"You want something to drink?" Renji asked.
Ichigo turned to him and shook his head. Renji shrugged and went over to take a seat on the other couch, which was placed at a ninety degrees angle from the one Ichigo was sitting on.
"So," Ichigo said.
"So," Renji echoed. He leaned back and draped his arms across the top of the couch, then brought up one of his legs to cross it at the ankle over the other knee - the perfect picture of nonchalance.
Ichigo couldn't stand it anymore. "Stop being an asshole," he snapped. "And just tell me what the fuck happened."
Then came three loud, solid knocks on Renji's front door.
Renji sprang up and answered the door, while Ichigo jumped visibly in his seat, startled.
"Oh, hello," Shuuhei stepped in and held up a six-pack of beer. He flashed a good-natured grin at the orange-haired kid. "My bad, I didn't know you had company, Ren." He then gave Renji a wink, purposely turning his head away from Ichigo's field of sight.
Renji rolled his eyes; sometimes Shuuhei could be such an ass. Ichigo looked at Shuuhei and gave him a polite, uncertain smile. There was no sign of recognition in his caramel-brown eyes.
"Ichigo, this is Shuuhei, an old friend of mine," Renji introduced. Ichigo stood up and shook Shuuhei's hand, then sat back down, scooting to the side to make space for the older man. When his eyes met Renji's, Renji could see a hint of frustration in them. "Shuuhei, this is Ichigo, a new friend I made just recently. Met him at The Academy."
Shuuhei placed the beer on the coffee table and sat down next to Ichigo. "Ah, that's my favorite club," he said. "I hope Renji's being nice to you, Ichigo."
Renji saw Ichigo's features darken slightly, but then it was gone in a blink of an eye, and the teen chuckled a little awkwardly. "We've just been, uh, chatting."
"Oh really? 'Bout what?" Shuuhei asked, sounding genuinely interested.
Ichigo shifted in his seat. "Just…stuff."
Shuuhei raised an eyebrow and turned to Renji. Renji could see the unspoken question in his friend's eyes, and he responded with a shrug of his shoulders and a subtle shake of his head. Shuuhei frowned, looking a little annoyed, then he turned back and casually reached for the pack of beer. He took out three bottles and pushed one towards Ichigo.
Ichigo looked like he was going to refuse, but when Renji and Shuuhei both popped their bottles open and began to drink, the teen looked conflicted. Renji guessed that he was worried that he'd seem rude if he didn't join in, but could also see that Ichigo didn't want to drink. He glanced at Shuuhei.
"No worries, I'll get you something else. Coke, maybe?" Shuuhei offered.
"Sure," Ichigo replied, looking more than a little relieved.
Renji was surprised. To be honest, he had no idea what Shuuhei had in mind - was he going to simply proposition Ichigo like this? Or did he have a more subtle approach planned? Shuuhei's face was mask-like now, Renji couldn't read him at all.
Shuuhei disappeared behind the small doorway that separated the living room and the kitchen. Renji caught Ichigo's gaze for a moment.
"Just relax for a while," Renji said, noting the tension in Ichigo's shoulders. "We can chat after having some refreshments, yeah?" He wasn't sure what else to say - he didn't want to interfere with whatever plan that Shuuhei might have. To be honest, he felt a little offended that Shuuhei didn't let him in on it.
Shuuhei reappeared and placed a glass of iced Coke in front of Ichigo.
"Thanks."
Shuuhei sank back on the couch and took a swig of his beer. He gave Renji a meaningful look, but Renji didn't understand it. Something had been set in gear, but he was in the dark, and he couldn't well ask with Ichigo sitting right there. The next fifteen minutes didn't yield any clues; Shuuhei just chatted about random stuff, asking Ichigo about school, his family, anything but what had brought him to Renji's apartment in the first place. Renji was seriously confused now.
Then, about twenty minutes into Shuuhei's visit, Renji started to notice something strange. The kid looked tired, his eyes drooping and reopening as if he was having trouble keeping himself awake. He had leaned back against the couch about ten minutes ago, and now his head kept sliding to the side.
"You okay, Ichigo?" Renji asked, getting up on his feet.
"Shh." Shuuhei held up a finger against his lips. Renji saw a spark in his friend's slate-grey eyes - something like mischief, but there was also something in there that Renji didn't like. He couldn't put his finger on what was it, but the hair on the back on his neck prickled, making him uncomfortable. He narrowed his eyes and stared at Ichigo. The boy looked ill.
"What the fuck's going on, Shuu?" Renji didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.
Ichigo's head fell to the side again, and this time he didn't straighten back up. He just sat there, slumped on the couch as if he'd fallen asleep.
"Shh," Shuuhei repeated, then he slowly inched closer to Ichigo and held a hand up. He waved it in front of Ichigo's face. The teen's eyes were almost completely closed. He looked barely conscious, and didn't respond to Shuuhei.
Renji's inner alarm bells were screeching in his ears now. Something was going on, Shuuhei had done something.
"What did you do?" he demanded, moving closer to Ichigo. His heart was beginning to hammer in his chest; even if Ichigo really was tired, he wouldn't look like that.
Shuuhei grinned and finally looked up. He pulled out a small packet from his pocket and threw it on the coffee table towards Renji.
Renji immediately sucked in a sharp breath.
"What the fuck?" He snatched up the baggie and stared at the white pills inside, his eyes wide in disbelief. "What the fuck, man! Is this really necessary?"
Shuuhei shrugged, as if drugging an unsuspecting teenager was all in a day's work. "He wouldn't say yes if we ask him," he said simply. "I can tell."
Renji pulled his lips back in a snarl. "Then we send him back and move on!" he said, then he looked at Ichigo again. The boy's eyes were now closed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. "Damn it, Shuu!" Renji hissed, throwing the packet on the floor.
Shuuhei slipped his t-shirt over his head and reached for Ichigo. "He's an adult, Ren. He willingly came back with a stranger, he should know what would happen," he said. He pushed the unconscious boy onto his back and climbed over him, straddling his hips. The couch was narrow; when it shifted from Shuuhei's movements, one of Ichigo's hands slid off the side and hung down limply, his fingers grazing the carpet.
"Fuck, Shuu," Renji said in a sharp whisper. "This is fucking rape."
His friend ignored him and bent down. He pressed his lips roughly against Ichigo's and pried the boy's mouth open. Ichigo stirred slightly at the contact, but immediately became still again. Shuuhei smiled and began to unbutton the boy's shirt.
"Shuu!" Renji hissed. He reached out to grab his friend, but Shuuhei was faster. His hand shot up and gripped Renji's wrist with such force that the redhead winced.
"Have you forgotten, Ren?" Shuuhei asked, the corner of his lips curled up in a smirk that looked anything but friendly. "Sophomore year, Ren. May twelfth."
Renji froze, his hand suddenly limp in Shuuhei's fist. His mouth went dry. "Shit, Shuu, you can't do this."
Shuuhei narrowed his eyes. "Oh yes, Ren. I can." Then he let go of Renji's wrist and continued to unbutton Ichigo's shirt.
The shirt slowly fell open, revealing the pale, flat torso underneath. The boy stirred again, but his eyes remained closed. Shuuhei bent down and kissed the pink, slightly parted lips, then he slowly dragged his tongue along the boy's jawline, then down the neck, over the collarbones, the chest, where he stopped to roll his tongue over a nipple. Ichigo made a small sound and turned his head slightly.
"Shuu," Renji croaked. Under any other circumstances, this sight would be a big turn-on. But this was so many levels of wrong that he just wanted to throw up. Yet, he couldn't look away. It was like watching a horror movie - you know the character was going to die if she steps into the dark room, but you can't help watching anyway.
When Shuuhei yanked the boy's pants to his knees, Renji's stopped breathing. His throat constricted as though he was being strangled. He never knew that his friend had this side in him. He thought he was very close to Shuuhei, yet the Shuuhei in front of him now was a complete stranger. He wanted to pull Shuuhei off of the boy, call the police, just bloody do something - anything - but he couldn't. He had too much to lose, and Shuuhei knew that.
So he watched numbly. Ichigo groaned softly when Shuuhei entered him, but other than that, he didn't move. His eyes were still closed. If Renji pretended hard enough, if he blocked out Shuuhei's voice, he could convince himself that the boy was just asleep and that this was all a nightmare, for both of them.
His body swayed. His shoulders - someone was holding him by the shoulders and shaking him. But he didn't want to get up. He was warm and comfortable here.
"Kurosaki, get up," a voice said. It sounded familiar, he'd heard it before. "Oi, wake up, kid."
Reluctantly, Ichigo cracked his eyes open. The face in front of him went in and out of focus for a few seconds, and then it sharpened and became Starrk. The older man had a frown on his face, but as soon as he saw Ichigo open his eyes, he perked up and smiled.
"Hey," Starrk said softly.
Ichigo blinked. Why did Starrk look so worried? He tried to sit up, only to gasp and fall back onto the bed. It felt like he'd left his brain and stomach behind somewhere. He looked at his roommate, suddenly feeling confused and afraid.
"I found you outside the hall," Starrk said. "What happened, Kurosaki?"
"I…" Ichigo tried. His voice came out dry and hoarse, like it hadn't been used for a long time.
"I called your cell before leaving the club last night, but you didn't pick up," Starrk said, his voice tight with concern. "I couldn't find you, so I thought maybe you've left on your own. But you never came back, I was starting to get worried, then you turn up suddenly this morning, sleeping on the porch…what the hell?"
Ichigo's head was still swimming, but some of Starrk's words registered. That was the longest sentence he'd ever heard Starrk say, the first time he'd seen an actual expression on the man's face besides lazy indifference. He wanted to explain, but then it occurred to him that he didn't know what to say - how was he supposed to explain about something he didn't know?
"I d-don't..." Ichigo stuttered, trying his best to speak around a tongue that seemed too big for his mouth. He felt the familiar feeling of panic rising his chest. This was exactly like that Friday night - had he gone and gotten himself drunk again? He remembered talking to Renji and following the guy back to his apartment. There was someone else, Renji's friend or something, and they had talked for a bit. There was beer - he remembered Renji and that guy drinking, whatever his name was, but he thought he hadn't. Or had he? Did he end up drinking anyway?
"Rest," Starrk said, his deep voice cutting through Ichigo's confused thoughts. "I just wanted to make sure that you're still alive. But now that you are, you should go back to sleep, get the booze out of your system."
Ichigo looked up at his roommate gratefully, who was smiling even though his brows were still drawn. All of a sudden he felt like a little kid, and that Starrk was his elder brother, and then he realized that that was probably what Starrk felt too. It was a nice feeling, and Ichigo couldn't help but smile back, even though the movement rang his head like a fucking gong.
The last thing in his mind before he slipped back under was that he would never, ever drink again.
To be continued...
I know. Shuuhei drew the short straw. Again. I swear, I really like him, but somehow he seemed more like the kind who would, you know, be secretly evil. More than Renji could anyway.
So, Shuuhei lovers, please don't kill me. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Remember, things will only get worse before it gets better.