I lost a lot of this chapter on a computer switch over a little while ago and try as I might I can't seem to get it as good as before. So this really turns out to be just a gist. Aizen was much more…human in the first.

Chapter 6

Aizen normally one to sit and take his time over tea, today for the first time ever, found himself wandering the apartment taking sips as he went. He had a list of things that Ichigo needed courtesy of Stark this morning and other things he had wanted to take in himself; really if Gin could see into his mind now at the fluffy and misty way he viewed his lovers needs then he would have a field day. Even more so when the tall man stilled beside the bed as his fingers brushed over Ichigo's green jumper.

That jumper.

The one that was the reason for Ichigo's features softening so beautifully when he pulled it on. The boys whole aura changed within the blink of an eye for something so simple. Aizen sat on the edge of the bed and sniffed the garment. Ichigo's soft aftershave drifted over him and brought a small smile of pleasure to his lips. No doubt it would be a very welcome comforter right now. A pang of jealously forced the older man to his senses and he placed the jumper back down on the bedside chair when it had been draped. Instead he frowned scanning the large room for something else to take. His vision landed upon his thick soft bathrobe and a satisfied smirk came to his face. Ichigo would like the softness and of course, be bathed in the scent of Aizen and therefore think of nothing more than being back in this ivory tower under Aizen's care. He marched himself over, placing the tea down first on the nightstand and then folding the bulky navy robe into an overnight bag he had already prepared. His eyes glanced to the list of Starks and then his feet turned towards the spare room where Ichigo's boxes sat freshly dumped by that fool Abarai.

Aizen's impression of his employee did not improve when he opened the first box and saw the chaos inside. If Ichigo had packed them himself, no doubt everything would have been placed in carefully, the box would have been tapped shut and a neat list of the contents written on the outside. But no. Not Abarai. Instead, Aizen found himself delving through a box containing, a few oddments of kitchen utensils, twenty two odd socks, a roll of toilet paper, newspapers several weeks out of date, a single candle stick minus its candle of course, a string of Christmas icicles, one leather biking glove, a packet of plasters opened and contents spilled and then at the very bottom almost crushed by the weight of an ugly plant carelessly thrown into the darkness was Ichigo's Mp3 player.

The small black device had a proud scratch to show for its rough treatment but thankfully held some charge and Aizen took a moment to flick through the eclectic collection of music. The boy did seem to have a wide varied choice, but none of Aizen's music showed anywhere in the small sample he was able to view. Well that was easily remedied.

Gaining the company of his now almost cold tea, Aizen sat at his computer in the study and attached the two pieces of technology together. Having a dislike for listening to the same group play track after track, he had painstakingly already uploaded his music in a random order and highlighted on the top twenty played tracks. Classical, good for the soul, Opera to rouse one's spirits, lilting love songs for when has a dinner date – Ichigo would have heard these already, a single piece of reggae just so he can say he is hip and up with it, or so he thought, a few old and well known country and western adopted from a treasured trip to the oversized land of America and lastly some beautiful soothing Japanese classics. That should complement the boys hip-hop, happening gothic, prod-rock, grunge…stuff. Aizen felt proud of his work not realising the way it would humour Ichigo later that his boyfriend might not look an old fart, but was very much so one, one with his feet firmly buried in the thick oozing mud of matureness.

Back to packing and the mundane things of toiletries, underwear, simple clothing that Ichigo could dress himself with and a couple of his favourite books that Stark wanted to read for him, he was packed.

With a small grunt that would not have escaped his lips had anyone else been around, Aizen took the bag down the long hallway, intent of seeking the company of his younger partner when he eyes gave a casual glance into the lounge. Another smile caught him off guard as his eyes feasted on the memory of Gin finding his 'pet niko' curled up on the floor. He had looked beautiful.

Ichigo although unwilling, did the part of damsel in distress rather well. Having already taken this upstanding virile male by storm with his manly leathers and love for throbbing machines between his legs, it seemed that he was particularly in touch with the feminine side of his personality. His slender body, dipped at the hips, proud pectorals, long slender arms with delicate fingers could pass in the right setting for female. Oh Ichigo just what had he done to Aizen's mind?

Once so stoic, composed and organised, it seemed that Aizen had reached a point he never had before. Not even his own mother had brought out this side of him that wanted to protect and nurture. He might have kept hold of his controlling side, but Ichigo was able to bend his will without trying. It was a first for the self-made man to have someone else's needs before his own, willingly. But it was something he felt he would be unable to trade off for his old life.

This place, with just Ichigo's presence for two days had suddenly become a home rather than another slightly extravagant place to conduct his business. Little bits of what could only be described as 'filling' had appeared on almost every surface. There were things left out, so that Ichigo could find them, or things the boy had left out because he couldn't replace them. Objects or clothes littered around, two cups on the kitchen drainer and two toothbrushes in the bathroom. An extra coat hung on the wall and smaller shoes beside his in the hall. It wasn't untidy now, just lived in.

Aizen shook his head and placed the bag down his aching arm had been holding all this time and mused at his foolishness as he went to fetch another bag. This softness just wouldn't do.

He couldn't blame anyone else. He'd wanted all along to have someone here at his disposal. Someone he could have to show off as they were draped across his arm. Ichigo didn't fit that description before but he did now. The softness and vulnerability the boy showed drew Aizen in. the chance to mould and shape a human into the form he wanted had presented itself and he was going to take it. Ichigo would keep his old essence but Aizen wanted to make him the perfect partner. A doll that complied, conformed, obeyed; one that wanted to please and pleasure. One that listened and took advice then thanked him for his wisdom.

His idea of the princess would see Ichigo dressed in finery, looking every bit as beautiful as possible. He'd be groomed and displayed along with this fine home. People would come to see how graceful the boy walked, how he looked to Aizen with adoration. They'd be jealous of the spark that flicked between them, the binding love that meant they completed each other.

Ichigo would be here when he came home from work, adorned in jewels, smelling freshly bathed and over impatient to take the days burdens from his shoulders. They'd dine on fine food, talk and listen to beautiful music before slipping between the purest cotton sheets and there Aizen would spend hours devouring his exotic lover and forcing sounds of rapture from his soft rounded mouth.

The bag zipped up with a startling ring into the silence and Aizen sitting on his haunches in the lounge chuckled. Ichigo his maiden? He laughed a little louder. He hoped not. A burst of reality forced the dream like thoughts from his mind and instead produced an image of a surly young man, demanding to know where he'd been all day and that the dinner was ruined. Aizen's lips curled up again as that image seemed just as appealing as the other one. Then they'd row, Ichigo would lock himself in the bathroom and Aizen would use the spare key to break in. as his impulsive lover launched at him in a rage of fists, he's sooth and placate with soft kisses and promises of good behaviour and before you know it, Ichigo legs would be around his waist as his urgent cock buried itself into the narrow girth of the boys back passage.

Not so romantic. Aizen clicked his tongue and let out a bark of laughter. No, but much more likely. Days of quiet solitude gone. Evenings of lengthy loneliness replaced with fire and brimstone. Bring it on.

As his hand pulled up the door, he looked back once into the flat with that smile still on his face. Bring it on, but let him have just a little bit of adoration in the mix please.

…

The hospital was still a hive of activity. Outside his room the still pale creature could make out the sounds of visitors and laughter passing along the corridor. Nurses feet clopped in their shoes and the odd trolley rumbled by with the urn all hot and steaming delivering drinks to the patients.

They, Ichigo and Sosuke, were in the middle of a difficult conversation, one that Ichigo didn't want to have it seemed, but the older pressed on gently encouraging him to recall past events of his life.

It was all because of Ichigo and that dressing gown. Aizen had pulled it from the bag and the boy had inhaled deeply drinking in the odours he missed. Sosuke had been more than smugly pleased when Ichigo insisted he put it on and on he did. Wrapping around him like a shroud and pulled tight to his chest so his nose could bury in the fabric and sniff away with a contented smile on his face. So much for that green sweater now. The curiosity of why it meant so much hadn't gone away, but to find out that it was Ichigo's first love that had given it to him, roused more than a small jolt of jealousy, that was until he remembered that Ichigo now sat in his dressing gown looking as pleased as he had when they first discovered the sweater on his first day.

Aizen wanted to chase away anything that still came between them and have that peaceful look on Ichigo's face again. To do that he had to rid him of a few demons first i.e. his first love, who it seemed had more than just the jumper to answer for.

Ichigo paused mid flow and sighed. "I don't like talking about it. In fact I've never talked about it." His cheek brushed gently back and forth over the robes collar.

"I'll never hurt you Ichigo." Strong thumbs passed over Ichigo's wrists in a way that was meant to be reassuring and thankfully was.

"It's not that…I'm not scared of sex, just scared of rushing into things, saying yes and not being able to back out after."

"Have I forced you since?"

"No…not that you have had a chance…Its just…"

"Whatever it is, I am nothing but a patient man Ichigo. You know that I already wish our own first was different."

"I don't." Ichigo said rather loudly and fully implying that he really didn't wish it any different. "It was good, too good if anything…I was already a mess and…"

"Not ready." Aizen finished for him. "So our next will be when you are. Be that tomorrow or next year." Ichigo smiled at the soft kiss placed on his cheek. "So this man?" Ichigo had already said how Kisuke, a family friend, was his first encounter in the gay world. He had been there to talk, ease him gently into what men did in bed. At first it had been good and they'd started a secret affair, he had been a minor after all, but it didn't stay that way and that's when Ichigo felt his reluctance to talk kick in.

"He just got rougher and rougher, tied my hands when I tried to push him off and I didn't like it. Sex became painful, he went too deep and too fast…primal. My dad always said that sex was meant to be with someone you loved, and be special, wonderful. But it wasn't anymore. Finally one day, I broke it off and he threatened to tell my dad, saying I begged him. But I knew it was all hot air, my dad would beat him within an inch of his life so I called his bluff."

"He never did?"

"Not that dad let on."

"I think you would have known, given his reaction to meeting me."

"Yeah." Ichigo would have rolled his eyes. "He's always a hot head…loud and even violent. But he mean's well…"

"Shame his ideals are still back in the dark ages." Ichigo scoffed at that. How true.

"Do you miss them all?" After all, you kept their pictures up in your home even after your own sisters said they didn't understand you.

"Course…But I guess they must be happier like this." There was a pause only filled with restless fingers feeling skin.

"You'd go a long way for someone else's happiness wouldn't you?"

"Renji fancied Rukia Kuchiki. I used to pick her up and take her home, made appointments and agree to drop her off in places. The idiot has been saving up for a ring for ages and going around so distracted that our team even lost some races. Once the guy ran into the side of me his head was so clouded on the midget, he bent everything possible on my bike and more. Cost a damn fortune to fix."

"So the rumour you were dating her?" Aizen had almost given up on getting Ichigo then. Almost.

"Was so that Renji could get to see her without that prick of a brother knowing."

"As I understood it, you took time off sick around then."

"Byakuya and I had what you would call a disagreement. The bastard had it coming."

"You were not responsible for his hospital admission?"

"Would it hurt my defence if I stayed silent on that one?" Ichigo chuckled and Aizen shook his head in wonder. Ichigo had been the one to beat a man almost world class in martial arts.

"I would say young man, that it did nothing short of propel you into the hall of fame in my eyes."

"Oh god." Ichigo groaned slightly letting his head fall back and then yawning widely. "You and Stark ware me out."

"And I haven't yet got this second bag open."

"Am I going to like it?" Aizen nodded before realising his mistake.

…

Stark would have in hindsight, held back his impulsive laugh when he entered Ichigo's room the following morning. But to see Ichigo wrapped up in a cocoon made of all the throws and pillows from Aizen's sofa, he looked rather like a cute little chibi neko hybrid, but he wasn't to know that his thoughts were not original. All that was missing was the sleek long orange tail.

For his merriment, however, a cushion thrown with deadly accuracy bashed him in the face.

"I can get you fired you know." Ichigo mumbled from his too comfortable position wanting to sleep off the pain meds.

"An' I can leave ya naked ass on show for the nurses." Stark answered this time dodging the second cushion.