Chapter 7 – Crash and Burn

Warnings: foul, foul language; adult situations; yaoi.

Discl: No, I still don't own Bleach! What the hell!

Shinji 911 … Shinji 911 …. Ichigo tore down the path that led to the facility's employee entrance and ripped the badge off his chest as he neared it. Swiping the badge against the card reader, he yanked the heavy door open as soon as the light flashed green. He dashed down the hallway to the elevators, mashed the up button, and swore when neither of the doors opened immediately. Springing into a run again, he narrowly avoided hitting one of the housekeeping carts as he made his way at a dead run toward the door marked "Stairs". Maybe it wouldn't be quicker than waiting out the elevators, but he couldn't just stand there and wait. He took the stairs two at a time, hand on the bannister, yanking himself up three flights as quickly as he could.

The first sight that met his eyes upon bursting through the 3rd floor door was the sight of an orderly pushing the crash cart down the hall toward Ichigo's room. His heart fluttered in his chest as the implication sank in. Tearing past the man/cart combo, he skidded around the corner and into the room. Ichigo's eyes flickered over to Szayel, noted that he was still, and then zeroed in on Shinji. Two orderlies were at Shinji's bed, restraining the figure thrashing about on the bed. Uryuu stood at the head of the bed, suctioning Shinji's trach. The respirator was alarming, the shrill tones blaring in the formerly quiet room. "Uryuu! What happened?" Ichigo shouted as he hurried over to him, eyes moving from Shinji to the monitors and back again.

"Can't tell," Uryuu grunted as he held Shinji's head with one hand while suctioning the trach with the other. "I heard him begin to move, and then the respirator went off." He finished suctioning and reattached the tubing to the end of the trach where it jutted out from Shinji's throat. Both nurses watched the respirator as it attempted to re-establish a normal breathing rate – but it didn't. Instead the alarms paused while it detected re-attachment, then began shrilling again. "I've paged Kuchiki, he'll be here any minute."

Ichigo leaned over Shinji. The blond's eyes were wide open, bulging, tears flowing down in steady streams to his ears. His head moved back and forth as he strained against the restrictive hands of the orderlies. "Shinji … Shinji!" Ichigo laid a hand on the patient's chest as he muttered, "fuck," and looked at the monitors again. Shinji's heart rate was 149, but the rhythm was rock solid, the QRS tracking like clockwork. "EKG looks okay," Ichigo muttered, glad that the crash cart wasn't in the room because it was needed … it was here just in case. The blond thrashed harder, making the orderlies grunt, holding his arms, keeping his IV lines secure, making sure he wouldn't accidently dislodge any lines or hurt himself. "What the fuck!" Ichigo groaned through clenched teeth.

"Nothing happened," Uryuu said, studying the ventilator's readings. "I mean it, one minute it was business as usual, the next …." He turned back to the bed. "We're gonna have to sedate him if this keeps up." Neither one wanted to do that.

Byakuya Kuchiki rushed in through the open door. Ichigo had a second to notice the pajama top (unbuttoned) and messy hair before he had to press down harder on Shinji's chest. "What's going on," the doctor said, his eyes missing nothing as he scanned the situation.

Uryuu filled him in quickly. "… and when I suctioned I only got a little mucus out. He's dry," he finished.

Byakuya looked at the vent, he looked at Shinji's monitors, and then he pressed close against the side of the bed, leaning over the young man. "I need an EEG," he said. Ichigo sprang into action, running out the door and calling to the unit clerk at the desk. Within moments a tech ran through the door, ripping equipment out of a black bag as she came, pulling a small cart behind her. "Move," she murmured, as she began peeling the backs off the leads embedded in a net cap. Each lead already had a small portion of conductive gel on it. She pulled the cap onto Shinji's head, then wiggled each lead in place, not only parting Shinji's hair to get to the scalp, but also to score the skin in order to remove any dead cells that could impede the EEG's readings.

Once the cap was in place, she tightened the bands that would secure it to Shinji's head (Ichigo helped hold the blond's head still during this procedure), pressed each of the ten leads again to make sure they were in contact with Shinji's scalp, tightened the straps again, and plugged the cap into her machine.

Everyone waited. The respirator shrilled its alarms until Dr. Kuchiki told Uryuu to silence the alarm feature. Quietly, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques re-entered the room and went to stand by his brother's bed, silently observing the figures standing around the other patient's bed until the tableau was hidden from him by the screen. Shinji still thrashed in his bed, but he was held steady by Uryuu and Ichigo at each arm, and an orderly at each leg. Sweat ran down Ichigo's face. Along with everyone else, his eyes were glued to the EEG monitor.

Byakuya was the first to interpret what they began to see as the ten lines began to scrawl across the small screen. "Fentanyl, 25 micrograms IV push," he murmured. Ichigo let go of Shinji's arm (Uryuu leaned over to grab that arm carefully, too) and ran to the PHARM machine near the nurse's station. He quickly got the pain med out of the drawer and returned to the room to get a syringe. Taking the dose from the small vial he then attached the syringe to a port on Shinji's IV line and began the slow IV push administration of the narcotic pain medication. As he waited out the minute for a slow push, he watched the doctor. Kuchiki's focus was divided between the continuing squiggly lines of the EEG and the ventilator's readouts.

One minute later, Ichigo had finished administering the med. Shinji had stopped straining so hard against the hands that held him in place. "He's right handed?" the doctor asked.

"Yes," Ichigo replied.

"Let go of his right arm," Kuchiki said to Uryuu, quietly. Shinji's arm twitched, then flopped haphazardly, then straightened out, his right hand went to the trach at his throat, scratching at it, weakly grabbing it. The doctor gently held his hand away. "Suction again," he said to Ichigo, who immediately grabbed the suction, pulled the hose off Shinji's trach, and stuck the long slender suction tube through the opening down into Shinji's trachea and bronchus, rotating it slightly as he pulled it back out. Very little mucus was retrieved. Ichigo reattached the vent tube and watched, his eyes going from Kuchiki to Shinji to the respirator and back again.

"Is … is he …?" Ichigo's voice was quiet, but it would have been difficult for anyone to not hear the hope in it.

"Yes," Kuchiki replied. "He's fighting the vent. Remove the tube and stand by with the ambu-bag."

Hope, that had tinged Ichigo's voice seconds earlier, now flared hotly in his chest. He swallowed hard as he removed the ambu-bag from its position on the side of the vent, and mentally said a prayer to any and all gods out there who might be awake and listening. He pulled the tube away from Shinji's tracheostomy and waited, holding his breath. Nothing happened.

"Give him five breaths with the ambu," Kuchiki said, watching the oxygen saturation reading on the monitor.

Ichigo attached the ambu-bag to Shinji's trach and gave him five breaths, watching the slender blond's chest rise and fall as he did so. Then he pulled it away and watched and waited, again holding his breath. Nothing happened. Shinji had stopped moving. He didn't thrash in the bed or try to reach for his throat. It was as though he had gone back to his deep, deep sleep. Even his eyes were now closed, adding to the impression of a return to his former motionless comatose state. Ichigo felt the hope in his chest die a little.

"Kurosaki, five more breaths. Ishida, give this young man a little stimulus," the doctor said, still evidently calm as a stone, no matter his slightly rumpled appearance.

Ichigo re-attached the ambu-bag and began giving Shinji the breaths as Uryuu unsnapped the patient's gown and began a sternal rub – that knuckles-against-the-breastbone technique that Ichigo hated and that Dr. Kuchiki preferred. It is designed to elicit a response from an apparently unconscious person, to see if they will react to it. Done correctly, it works. But Ichigo preferred other, less painful methods. However, it wasn't his call. As Uryuu rubbed the knuckles of his right fist on Shinji's chest, Ichigo watched Shinji's hands – they would be the first thing to move if he could really respond. He'd want to stop what was happening at his chest.

"His right leg just twitched," the orderly on that side stated, his hand resting on Shinji's leg.

"Nothing on this side," the other orderly said.

"Stop breaths," Kuchiki stated. Ichigo stopped. The room was dead silent. From across the way, Grimmjow listened, motionless, holding Szayel's hand. "Try another rub, Ishida," the doctor said. Once more, for about four seconds, knuckles against sternum.

"Got another twitch," the orderly said.

"Two more breaths, Kurosaki-san," Byakuya said, quietly. Ichigo did it. Then waited.

It was very quiet. So faint that everyone at the head of the bed leaned in to be sure what they were hearing. A very slight whisper of sound from Shinji's trach … a very small movement of his chest. Then louder, the shuffing sound of an exhale as his chest relaxed again. Ichigo wanted to shout at the top of his lungs. But he waited, like everyone else.

The seconds ticked on. "Give him another breath, Ichigo," Byakuya murmured. Ichigo repeated the ambu-bag procedure.

"Come on, Shinji," he said, no longer able to keep quiet. "Come on, breathe. You can do it." Two seconds went by, then again: the quiet whisper of an inhaled breath, the chuff of an exhalation behind it. Ichigo waited, practically twitching with stress … and it happened again. He looked up at Byakuya and Uryuu, grinning, as the third breath commenced. "God damn," he said.

Uryuu was grinning, too. Dr. Kuchiki said, "Indeed," and nodded his head firmly. "Put him back on the vent, assist mode, cut the O2 down to 2 liters, recovery parameters, keep a watchful eye on that saturation. Kara, let that EEG run for two hours and then get Dr. Rajapura to read it. Ichigo, call me with the report … and if anything else happens, of course." He watched Shinji's chest rise and fall as he was issuing orders. "If he begins thrashing again, repeat Fentanyl, 25 micrograms IV push."

"Yes, doctor," Ichigo said, still grinning, holding back the tears that were threatening to fill his eyes.

Kara set the EEG machine on the bedside table and checked the net, making sure it was still holding the electrodes securely to Shinji's head, then she waved goodbye, smiling as she went out the door. Uryuu wiped sweat from his forehead, gave Ichigo a bro-hug with one arm, then hurried out, back to his own room. Ichigo and Byakuya faced each other across Shinji's bed after the orderlies were dismissed. Ichigo was patting the blond's arm affectionately, unaware that a tear had escaped his left eye and was tracking down his cheek, the smile still on his lips.

"I knew that his mother and father had begun speaking about removing Shinji from the respirator," Byakuya said softly. "I will give them the good news in the morning."

"Yes," Ichigo said, pushing a lock of blond hair out of Shinji's face. "It wasn't a seizure."

"No. At least, it does not appear that way at present."

"Good," Ichigo breathed, his left hand tightening on Shinji's forearm. He hadn't seized, he was fighting the vent … and the more agitated he got, the more oxygen he needed that the vent would not supply (due to the settings), so the harder he fought. Ichigo didn't want to think about the fact that … this could mean that … maybe …. No. Don't tempt Fate. She could be a vicious bitch when she wanted to be, and Ichigo had felt her barbs before. Numerous times. So he would do all he could for Shinji, but not hold out too much hope. The blond had been in a coma for a long time.

"Perhaps," Byakuya began, "we could meet for breakfast. Discuss the case for a very short while. Discuss other matters that are pertinent to you and I." His calm gray eyes looked down at Ichigo's caramel-brown ones.

"I … yes," Ichigo said, glancing down as his hand patted Shinji's arm. "I think that's a good idea. If you like cinnamon rolls, there's a coffee shop in downtown Karakura that has the best, biggest cinnamon rolls I've ever had." He locked eyes with the doctor.

"I do not like sweets," Byakuya said. "But perhaps, since you have given them such a glowing recommendation, I will try one." His lips twitched – his smile, as Ichigo had learned – and he turned to go, after giving Shinji's monitors another look. At the door, he looked over his shoulder at the oranget. "7:30 in the morning? I will meet you at the employee entrance, if you agree."

"I'll be there," Ichigo said, smiling. Ohhh boy. Tonight was just getting better and better, wasn't it. Holy shit.

From his vantage point across the room, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques frowned. That fucking prick Kuchiki. What the hell. He looked down at Zay, flicking a bit of hair off his brother's face, one hand coming to his mouth when a huge yawn made his jaws crack. In the aftermath, fatigue flooded over him. When was the last time he'd slept for over three hours uninterrupted? He could hardly remember. He left Szayel's bedside and headed for the couch, looking over at Ichigo when he did. "Got a date in the mornin', huh?" he said sarcastically.

"Not a date," Ichigo said defensively.

"Huh. Fuckin' sounded like one to me." He ran a hand through his messy blue hair as he practically fell into a sitting position on the couch. Ichigo was there in a flash.

"Here," he said, pulling the pillow over to the side and picking up the blanket, unfolding it. "You need some rest. Don't worry, I'll watch over Szayel-san. If anything happens, I'll wake you. I promise."

Grimmjow snatched the blanket out of Ichigo's hands and swung himself so that he was laying full-length on the couch, all 6'1" of him. He looked up at Ichigo, frowning. "Don't treat me like everyone else," he said, illogically, it seemed to himself.

"Please rest," Ichigo began, but then Grimmjow reached out with one hand, a sly look on his face, and cupped Ichigo's genitals, squeezing lightly. His arm a blur, Ichigo had Grimmjow's wrist in his hand, pulling his arm out and away from his crotch. "Don't. Not in here, not while I'm on duty. Don't. Ever. Again." His brown eyes bored into Grimm's blue ones.

"Noted," Grimmjow said, yanking his arm away. He frowned up at Ichigo, who now stood over him with his professional mien firmly back in place.

"If you need anything," and with these words his facial expression implied anything clean, "I'll be right here." Then he spun on his heels and walked away.

Grimmjow pulled up the blanket and rolled onto his side, facing Zay's bed.

Ichigo went to Szayel's bedside and checked him, turned him carefully onto his left side, adjusted his oxygen mask, and stroked his hair. He leaned in and spoke softly. "Lots of action around here tonight, eh, Szayel-san? Don't worry, all is well. Your brother is here watching over you, and I am here with you, too. Do not worry. Rest. Get better." He ran a hand down Szayel's arm and then clutched his hand, squeezing it gently. "Just get better." A last pat to the cheek and a straightening of the blankets, and then Ichigo turned back to Shinji.

He approached the bed, feeling suddenly weak in the knees. Shinji no longer needed the respirator to breathe! On "assist", the machine would let Shinji's lungs do the work, only helping if the sensors read that his own breathing wasn't sufficient. It would record all instances when an assist was needed, too. Now Shinji rested quietly, his eyes closed. Ichigo approached the bed. Surely Jaegerjaques-san was asleep. A quick glance showed that he certainly looked like he was asleep.

"Shinji," Ichigo said, leaning over the blond male to kiss his cheek. "You are so amazing. I'm not surprised, not one bit." He reached out with one hand and cupped Shinji's cheek, rubbing his chin with his thumb. "I love you … you know that. And I'm so happy," he whispered, then leaned in and kissed Shin's forehead. He pulled back slightly and then rested his forehead against the blond's, eyes closed, a smile on his face. "Come back, Hirako Shinji. All is well." Another kiss to the cheek, and Ichigo straightened up. He carefully rolled Shinji onto his right side and checked his sacrum for redness. Not too bad, but he still put a bit of ointment there just in case, massaging it in and helping with blood return. He emptied the urine and feces bags, and when he straightened back up after hanging the bags under the bed, it was to see that Shinji's eyes were open again.

He took the two steps that would bring him closer, and leaned over the bed rails. He smiled lovingly into those light-brown eyes as he carefully brushed Shin's blond hair out of his face. A slow blink. "You look fuckin' awesome, by the way," Ichigo said, and chuckled happily. He straightened up and turned to go over to the nurse's desk. He had a lot of charting to do about the night's events.

"P-p-p-p-p," a sound from behind him. Ichigo turned around. It wasn't uncommon for coma patients to make sounds, but Shinji had done so only infrequently. "P-p-t-t-p-p." Since Shinji had a trach tube in, he wouldn't be able to speak, but making sounds with his lips was in no way out of the question. Ichigo walked back to his bed, leaned over again, and looked into Shinji's eyes. Slightly unfocused, they only blinked once while Ichigo stood there.

"Any time you wanna wake up, Hirako-san – that would be good. Any time." He smiled. "Love you." Then he walked back to his desk and sat down, logged on, and began the arduous task of logging the night's events.

…

On the couch, Grimmjow closed his eyes. He'd been watching Ichigo through slitted lids, because he couldn't get to sleep when he had a boner. He had to wait for it to calm down. So he watched approvingly as Ichigo calmed his brother (whether it got through to Szayel or not, it had helped Grimm feel a bit better). And he'd watched disapprovingly as the oranget had basically started foreplay with the blond in the other bed.

Ichigo had told him that the patient was not his boyfriend. Then what was with all the "I love you"s. He doubted the slender blond was a relative (wasn't that illegal? For a nurse to take care of a relative in hospital?), so if he wasn't a boyfriend then what was he? There was something going on here. He wasn't saying that there was anything wrong, per se, but something was fucking going on and he wanted to god damn well know what it was. He wanted to sit up and roar his questions at the younger man, but remembered where he was and who was laying there, comatose, 8 feet away. Well, next time he had the chance, then, he was definitely getting his fucking answers.

Ichigo got another break, didn't he? He'd go with him, then, smoke a couple cigarettes, and wring some answers out of him. That was the plan. Yeah, that'd fuckin' work. No problem.

…

It didn't work. Grimmjow was asleep within two minutes and missed Ichigo's break. He slept through shift change, too, and when he woke up it was 8 a.m. Ichigo was gone and a big brown-haired nurse was there, towering over him.

"Good morning, Jaegerjaques-san," the tree said in a very deep smooth voice. "I'm Yasutora Shado, the dayshift nurse. You can call me Chad if you wish. I'll be caring for your brother while he's here with us. Is there anything I can do for you this morning?"

"Tell me how my brother is, and then you can tell me where Ichigo went," Grimmjow said before he could censor his mouth. He sat up, rubbed a hand through his hair, and looked at his brother.

"There has been no change in your brother's condition," Chad stated, moving to sit in the RN's chair. "And Kurosaki-san has gone off shift … I'm not sure where he is at present."

"Very PC of ya," Grimmjow said, and then he straightened up. He knew where Ichigo was! That fucking date with that fucking Dr. Kuchiki! He got to his feet, stretched, and reached for the small kit-bag he'd brought with him to the hospital. "Hey … there's a coffee shop downtown? Supposed ta be a good one?"

"The one with the cinnamon rolls," Chad said, nodding.

"What's the name of the place?" Grimmjow said, selecting a shirt to change into, and finding a pair of jeans to match up with it okay.

"It's right in between Karakura Community Park and Mashiba Middle School. The name is Yoi Yume O." Chad watched as the blue-haired man walked past him toward the bathroom. A/N – translation: Sweet Dreams

"Thanks." It was a public place, right? Anyone can go to a public coffee house, right? Right.

XXX

Ichigo changed quickly after giving Chad report. The tall man's face had broken into a rare smile as he heard the news about Shinji's breakthrough overnight. Ichigo had grinned back at him, then smacked a muscular shoulder as he turned to go. "Take care of him for me, Chad," he said, and hurried off to clock out and get changed.

The locker room had been full of people coming off shift, but Dr. Kuchiki was nowhere to be seen. The beginnings of butterflies began to flutter in Ichigo's stomach as he left the hospital and headed for the train station. What was going to happen? How would Dr. Kuchiki treat him, what would he say? And what would Ichigo say in return? The coffee shop was sure to be crowded this time of day, so nothing … sexy would happen, that was for sure. So at least he was assured of keeping a level head through the conversation. That was the plan, anyway.

Walking into the coffee shop, Ichigo's estimation of the number of customers was correct. The place was packed, conversational buzz smacked him in the face as he entered the brightly decorated shop. Pink and white predominated, with black accents here and there. But both sexes were represented equally – housewives stopping by for a morning snack or breakfast after dropping their kids off at school, night-shift workers stopping off for a snack before going home to bed, businessmen getting coffee on their way to the office.

He spotted Dr. Kuchiki right away. He was at a table over against the wall, a small table for two, sitting with his normal excellent posture in the spindly-legged chair. He raised a hand when he saw Ichigo at the door, and immediately the person behind the counter left his position in mid-order to come out to the table. As Ichigo approached, he heard the owner saying, "Greetings, Kuchiki-sama … how may I serve you today?" with a low bow. Ichigo sat down in the little chair facing the doctor's and nodded his greetings to the two men. He glanced back up at the counter to see that the people waiting in line had noted who the owner had left them for, and were whispering back and forth. Jesus.

"Kurosaki-san, what will you have today?" Byakuya asked softly, those beautiful gray eyes locked on Ichigo's.

"Ah … I'll have a large coffee, cream and sugar, and one of the cinnamon rolls, please," Ichigo said, looking at owner-san.

"Yes, yes," the small man said, bowing again. "And you, Sensei?" You could hear the capital in his voice.

"The same, owner."

"Hai, hai … just one moment please, gentlemen," and with that he scurried away, motioning impatiently at the teenagers behind the counter. Furious movement followed as all three rushed through the doors into the kitchen area (one supposed). Within moments, Ichigo and Byakuya had their orders. Fresh, steaming cinnamon rolls, fresh hot coffee, a sugar bowl with spoon and a pitcher of cream, all in fine china, cloth napkins folded prettily. Ichigo was impressed, usually he had to wait forever in the mornings at this place.

Byakuya didn't act as though he was impressed by anything, he just dipped his spoon into the sugar and began sweetening up his coffee. When he was done, Ichigo did the same. Silence descended as the men sipped. Heaven! Ichigo thought. He smiled over the rim of his cup at the handsome man across from him.

Who picked up his knife and fork and cut a small piece of cinnamon roll off, then placed it into his mouth. His eyebrows rose slightly, he nodded, and took another sip of coffee.

"See? Good, aren't they," Ichigo said, performing the same procedure with his roll, although on his own he'd probably just pick it up and wolf it down.

"They are, indeed, good," Byakuya said when his mouth was empty. "Not cloyingly sweet. More buttery. And I like the cinnamon."

"Mm-hmm," Ichigo replied, since his mouth was full of awesomeness.

"I know that you would probably like my opinion on Hirako-san's prognosis, based on his breakthrough overnight. Although I dislike talking shop outside of work, I realize that this will probably be unavoidable when you and I are … together," the doctor said, pausing and taking another sip of coffee.

Together? Oh, my, Ichigo thought, taking another bite of cinnamony goodness.

"So I will tell you that I am guardedly optimistic," Byakuya said. "Although I know that you are aware it could go either way, I believe that Hirako-san's chances of recovery are over 50%."

That was good. Normally 50/50 was as much as anyone could tell, so if Dr. Kuchiki was leaning toward the positive, that was really good. Ichigo grinned at the man. "Excellent," he said.

"Yes."

Silence descended while the cinnamon rolls on their plates grew smaller, bite by bite. The owner himself came to refill their coffee cups when needed.

"We have subjects to discuss, Ichigo-kun," Byakuya said softly, after the owner left with his carafe. "I know that you must have … concerns … related to my new relationship with Rukia, and my now-sundered relationship with my ex-wife."

"Ex-wife? Already?" Ichigo blurted, then blushed. "S-sorry … I …." He dropped his forehead into his hand, then looked up again. "Sometimes my mouth operates on automatic."

"It is all right," Byakuya smoothly replied. "Yes, already. Wheels turn faster when the judges scent nobility. I only state that because it is true, not because I agree with the policy. Still, it suited my purposes, and those of my ex-wife as well."

"May I ask … what happened, Sensei? If it's not prying too much."

"It is not, especially when you take into account the position I wish you to occupy in my life from now on," Byakuya said, locking eyes with Ichigo.

Holy shit.

"We married for political reasons, despite my same-sex leanings. She was willing to be the proper wife of the inheritor of the Kuchiki legacy, and the mother of an heir to continue that legacy … at least at first." Another bite, another sip. Ichigo did the same, listening intently. "However, the heir has not appeared, despite my … efforts … in that direction, and my ex-wife made the unfortunate mistake of taking a lover. A semi-amicable discussion disclosed her unwillingness to give up the man, so a divorce was unavoidable. And so you see me here, a divorced man whose ex-wife now lives in South Africa." A small twitch of his lips accompanied the last sentence.

"Well … at least things went off quickly and … nicely?" Ichigo asked, eyebrows up.

"They did," the black-haired man replied. "Does this cover any concerns you might have about my marital status?"

"Yes, sensei," Ichigo said. "And you said … you have 'same-sex leanings'? Are you saying you're gay, or—"

"I believe that term would be appropriate," Byakuya said. "I do not find women appealing sexually."

Ichigo nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. Cute, pretty, sweet, funny … but sexually? No thanks.

"Now … about Rukia. I understand you have a history with her that goes beyond that of friendship. Will you explain?"

Ichigo told Byakuya the whole story. He nodded at intervals, drank his coffee, pushed his plate with half a cinnamon roll on it toward Ichigo, who smiled at the action. Finally, "… so when you saw us at Seireitei, it was the first time I'd seen Rukia since she'd disappeared from Karakura Town. And I think we were finally able to move past that, er, incident. But I seriously don't know how she'd react if she found out that I was, you know …."

"Yes. Unfortunate timing. It is … slightly vexing, to say the least," Byakuya said, although his serene face didn't reveal vexation. "I, personally, have never been in a situation akin to this. Have you?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Hmm," Ichigo hummed around a mouthful of roll. After swallowing, "no. Although, well … you weren't really wanting a, um, public thing with me, are you Sensei? I mean –"

"I understand." He looked at Ichigo over the rim of his coffee cup. "Perhaps not at first, not public, no. But who is to say what the future may hold?"

Ichigo just nodded. What the fuck was he talking about? It sounded like he was talking about a future together! Surely not.

"Are you … out of the closet, so to speak, Ichigo-kun?"

"One foot in, one foot out," Ichigo said, smiling. "My family knows, my friends know, some of the staff at the hospital knows, but totally publicly? – no."

"My situation is similar, but my position is a more public one than yours. I count you the lucky one in that comparison." But he waved that away. "However … " his eyes bored into Ichigo's, "… I realize I broke protocol when I accosted you in the locker room last night when you came in. I should have first of all asked you out, I believe. I hope you can overlook what I did when I tell you that it was the way you looked at me that brought that on. Your eyes devoured, Ichigo-kun … do you know that you do that?"

"No," Ichigo said, color flaring in his cheeks.

"It is extraordinary. I felt literally compelled to touch you," he added softly, raising the cup to his lips again.

Ichigo hid behind his cup. Whoa. Down, penis, down. Be a good boy and be civilized for once.

"But back to topic. I believe with time Rukia's feelings will cool. Already her hurts are salved, the apology has been offered and received, and she is very well aware that you – and I – are both gay. But what would you suggest as far as my sister is concerned?" He looked at Ichigo.

"Well –"

Byakuya held up a finger. "Wait. Your pardon for the interruption. I am getting ahead of myself. I apologize. First I must ask: Ichigo-kun, are you interested in seeing me?"

"Yes." It was simple as that. How long had Ichigo been salivating over Byakuya Kuchiki? It seemed like forever.

"Good," the dark-haired man purred, and his eyes caressed Ichigo's face. Ichigo's breathing sped up in reaction. "Now then – what would you suggest, about Rukia."

"My first gut instinct says 'tell her'," Ichigo admitted. "But what if we do that, and for some reason we just don't hit it off? It would be stirring the pot for nothing."

"Very admirable of you. Forward-thinking and realistic. I quite like that, Ichigo-kun."

"So, um … let's just kinda … hold off and see what happens? I mean … you never know, right?" Ichigo could feel the blush heat up his cheeks, even as his dick stirred in his pants. Crap. He wriggled a bit in his chair, unconsciously, looking down at his coffee cup and then back up again.

Byakuya was looking at him, avidly. "You … are very cute, Ichigo-tan," he said, quietly. "Come closer, let me tell you something." He leaned forward, which caused Ichigo to lean forward over the table, too, turning his head so that Sensei could speak into his ear. "It is just this," the older man continued, speaking softly, "I am hard for you, right now. Painfully hard." His tongue slid out and gave Ichigo's ear a salacious lick.

Ichigo jumped and turned his head, but he didn't back away. A very low moan strangled itself in his throat as his eyelids fluttered closed. Thank goodness he was facing the wall now, because his face was –

"Wanton," Byakuya said into his other ear. "Your face … you must control your features or I will be compelled to throw you onto the floor and fuck you into the carpet."

Ichigo turned his head back to look at the doctor, who was staring back at him, eyes half-closed, nostrils flaring slightly as they caught and inhaled Ichigo's scent. Public! You're in public, idiot! And this man's reputation needs to be protected! But he was frozen, unable to move. Go ahead, fuck me into the carpet! Do it! I want it!

Byakuya backed away slightly, his left eyebrow slightly elevated, licking his lower lip with the tip of a pink tongue. "That face," he murmured. "You are dangerous, Kuraosaki. Here … drink your coffee, it is getting cold." He pushed the cup toward Ichigo's hand.

"I—" Ichigo had to swallow and clear his throat, that had come out like a growl. "I think you're the dangerous one, Sensei," he said, regaining control slowly, picking up the coffee cup and downing what remained in it.

"Then we are, perhaps, well-matched," he said, adjusting his position in the chair.

Ichigo imagined why he needed to do that and his mouth watered. Relax, relax!

"Are you finished?" Byakuya asked, wiping his mouth with the cloth napkin and placing it back on the table.

"Yes."

"Come. I will take you home."

A slight moment of panic when Ichigo remembered that Starrk Coyote and Ichimaru Gin might be lazing in his apartment, waiting to have another semi-threesome. "I'll use the facilities first, if you don't mind, and meet you outside?"

"Certainly. Take your time."

Ichigo got up and walked straight for the men's room. Once inside, he took out his cell phone and sent a text message to Starrk.

Ichigo: Where are you guys?

Starrk: Well, hello to you, too!

Ichigo: Sorry! Hi, how are you, how is Gin? Now where are you guys, please?

Starrk: This is Gin now. Hi, cutie. You make my tongue hard, you know that?

Ichigo: Hello! Thanks for the interesting bento. 0_o

Starrk: LMAO! Knew you'd like it, ne?

Ichigo: Like is too weak a word.

Starrk: This is Starrk again. So, wassup? I was takin' a nap.

Ichigo: Shocker. Really, seriously, where are you guys?

Starrk: Relax, man … we're on the train, on our way back to Tokyo. Gin got called, some kinda emergency at work.

Ichigo: Well, damn. Okay. Good to see you guys, please come again soon!

Starrk: We will. Heheh

Starrk: This is Gin again. How's tomorrow?

Ichigo: Huh?

Starrk: Kidding! Bye, nice meetin' you, ne?

Ichigo: You too. Bye.

Starrk: Bye Ichigo. And thank you … again. You're the best.

Starrk: This is Gin. He meant SECOND best.

Ichigo: funny! Bye, you two. Have fun! I sure did! :D

Starrk: Bye.

Hey, just in case, right? I mean, you never knew. Ichigo put his cellie back into his pocket, used the facilities, washed his hands and made a beeline for the door. Outside, waiting at curbside, a deep black Ferrari FXX purred. A crowd had gathered, looking at the amazing vehicle. Ichigo stopped in his tracks. Only 30 of these cars had been made. How …? Whatever. He approached and opened the door, leaning down to look inside.

"Get in," Byakuya said, with his little understated smile.

"Gladly!" Ichigo said, climbing in and putting on the seat harness. "Wow. Just – wow."

"Glad you like it," Byakuya said, pulling smoothly away from the curb.

"I do. And it suits you perfectly, Sensei. Perfectly." Ichigo was half-turned toward the doctor, grinning.

"I will take that as a compliment," the raven-haired man replied.

…

On the sidewalk, having just arrived at Yoi Yume O as Ichigo was climbing into the Ferrari, Grimmjow frowned and cursed a blue streak. God dammit! Now what? He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Cab. Get a cab! He leaped to the edge of the sidewalk and began waving at every cab he saw. FINALLY one pulled over. Grimm clambered in, slammed the door shut, and shouted, "follow that Ferrari!"

"What, you kiddin', man?" The driver was peering back at him in the rearview mirror, squinting near-sightedly.

"Kiddin'? If you catch up to that Ferrari and keep it in sight, I'll give you 100,000 yen. On TOP of your fee."

In answer, the little Toyota screeched away from the curb.

…

The Ferrari's ride was amazing. The interior was gorgeous and so was the driver. It got to the point where Ichigo couldn't keep his eyes off the man behind the wheel. Was he really going to get to make out with Sensei? It seemed so! Excitement skittered along his spine, the knowledge that something long-desired and long-awaited was about to finally come to pass. "Sensei," he said, licking his lips and swallowing hard.

"Ichigo-kun, you are making that face again."

"Yes."

"Are we near your apartment?"

"Getting nearer by the second," Ichigo said. "Turn right here. Four blocks straight ahead, then turn right again. Two blocks over, on the right."

"You are near the Karasu River."

"Yes." Ichigo leaned forward. Byakuya reached over and slid a hand along his cheek, up into his hair, and down onto his neck. These hands, Ichigo thought. Gods.

The hand slipped down onto Ichigo's shoulder then down his arm, squeezing lightly, rubbing, caressing. Ichigo picked it up and kissed it softly, turning it over and licking the palm. Byakuya shot him a glance, taking the second right turn.

"We are near," he said.

"Yes."

Byakuya's hand pulled away from Ichigo, only to reassert itself in Ichigo's lap, petting the achingly hard bulge there. Ichigo moaned out loud, head lolling back, eyes closing. Oh, man. He wasn't going to last very long.

"Parking garage," Ichigo said, panting. "I have a space, even though I don't have a car. Stop at the entrance so I can use my key card."

"Gladly," Byakuya said, doing just that, smoothly and carefully guiding the beautiful piece of machinery as Ichigo directed. Soon they were pulling to a stop in the dark underground parking garage. Byakuya cut off the engine and popped his safety harness. Ichigo did the same. He had turned to say something, his hand on the door handle, when his face was clasped between those two beautiful hands, holding him steady as Byakuya's lips took possession of his mouth.

The kiss didn't start out gentle. It was full-on passion from the word go. "Nn … Kurosaki," Byakuya murmured before plunging in for more fiery kissing, tongue and lips and teeth, igniting Ichigo's body until he was hot inside and out.

The way he said his name!

Ichigo was shaking, his eyes were rolled back in his head … you didn't get your fondest desires fulfilled every fuckin' day, y'know. "Sensei … Sensei …" he moaned over and over, whenever he got the chance. It made him feel like a naughty teenager, crushing on his teacher. Nice.

"It …" kissing kissing, so good, so sweet, "it has been far too long since I felt the strength and fire of a man," Byakuya groaned, his hands straying up inside Ichigo's shirt, feeling his abs and lightly taunting his nipples. Sliding his tongue into Ichigo's mouth, feeling that answering shattering feeling deep inside as Ichigo began to suck it. He pinched Ichigo's nipples, at first softly, but then increasingly rough as Ichigo's moans amped up in intensity. "I do not know if I can wait to reach your apartment," Byakuya said roughly, licking Ichigo's neck, nipping it softly.

"I … I don't know what to do. I want you. But I don't want to dirty your car. And I want more room. But … I want you," Ichigo stated the dilemma in no uncertain terms.

"God yes," Byakuya said. "More room. Sounds good. Let's go!" It was as emotional as Ichigo had ever heard the man. He pulled himself away from Ichigo, yanked open his door, and stepped out, the front of his pants tented by his furious erection. When Ichigo joined him, he looked down at himself. "I do not believe I've been this hard in almost 5 years."

"Then let's not waste it," Ichigo said, taking Byakuya by the hand and pulling him toward the elevator, rubbing his crotch excitedly with the other. "Sensei … " Kissing passionately while waiting for the elevator, falling into it, pressing up against each other, writhing, hips flexing. Ichigo looked up into Sensei's face and was stricken by the beauty of the man. Parted lips gusted breaths, half-lidded eyes gazed heatedly into his, a pink tongue licked his slightly swollen lips.

A bell dinged. The doors opened. Ichigo ran out, pulling Sensei with him, to hell with decorum! He laughed out loud and ran down the hallway to his apartment, using his keycard, throwing open the door, closing and locking it behind Sensei – and then Byakuya was on him. Buttons skittered over the floor as Byakuya took hold of Ichigo's shirt and tore it open down the front. He gazed at Ichigo's exposed chest, then touched it with both hands, dragging them down across hard nipples to finger toned abs. "How long have I been sneaking looks at your body, Ichigo-chan, while you changed in the locker room? Far too long."

"You? I've been doing it longer!" Ichigo reached out and swiftly unbuttoned Byakuya's shirt, peeling it completely off him, marveling at the unmarred white skin revealed underneath. "Gods," he muttered. "Just … let me touch you. Finally."

"As you wish," Byakuya said, voice slightly gravelly.

Ichigo did just that. He stroked that beautiful soft skin, enjoying the play of muscles underneath. His erection threatened to burst out of his jeans – either that or pop off inside them – he was more turned on that he could remember being in a long time.

Really? How about earlier tonight, hmm? With him?

Ichigo shook his head. Byakuya's fingers were at his waist, undoing the button that topped his jeans. Then the zipper. Then willing hands slid down inside his pants, stroking, petting, squeezing … and brought Ichigo's cock up and out, starting up a stroking rhythm that had Ichigo panting in, like, seven seconds. "S-sensei!" he said, urgency coloring his tone.

"Yess," Byakuya said, looking down at him, watching his face. He back-walked Ichigo to the couch and pushed him down onto it, then stripped off his jeans. "I need to be inside you. I apologize for the rush … but Kurosaki, I need to fuck you." His voice was harsh, growling … when he took of his pants his erection was huge, purple with blood, it looked painful to Ichigo – that good pain that was so akin to pleasure.

"Please," Ichigo said, sliding off the couch to kneel in front of the handsome black-haired man. "Please," he said again as his lips touched that pulsing cock, kissing the head. He cupped the man's balls – so tight! – in one hand, he licked two fingers of his other hand and slid them inside himself as his tongue slid teasingly up the underside of Byakuya's dick. Mmm, yesss. Finally. Finally! Pre-cum drizzled down the side and Ichigo licked it up, looking up to see that Byakuya was watching avidly, his eyes half-closed, his panting mouth open, his fingers buried in Ichigo's orange spikes, watching as Ichigo prepared himself for Byakuya's cock.

"Yes," Sensei said. Yes to everything. All of it. Ichigo in his naked glory, orange pubic hair that was the most intoxicating thing he'd ever seen. Golden skin, freckled on the shoulders and cheeks, flushing with desire. Byakuya's body thrummed as a wave of desire flashed through him. Never had it been this way with his wife. Never even fucking close.

"Sensei," Ichigo moaned, getting back on the couch, legs spread in invitation, lazily stroking his own erection. "I'm ready," he announced, head lolling back on his neck, eyes glazed with desire, pupils dilating as he looked up into Byakuya's gray ones. He saw Sensei visibly shake as another wave of desire thrummed through him. He got to his knees between Ichigo's legs and reached out to bury the fingers of one hand in that orange hair, pulling him forward to meet his lips in a hot kiss.

The other hand wrapped around Ichigo's waist and pulled him forward so that their erections came into blistering contact. Both men groaned and looked down, seeing their erect cocks pressing together, the contact was amazing, Byakuya almost came from the visual alone. With great self-discipline he held back, then reached down and pulled his cock down so that it pointed straight at the object it desired: Ichigo's twitching pink hole.

"Please," Ichigo practically had a mantra going. "Please, Sensei!" He pushed forward a little bit, bringing himself into contact with that swollen head, gasping as they touched.

Byakuya could no longer restrain himself. He lined up, pushed forward gently, then as soon as Ichigo's sphincter was breached, he pushed all the way forward in one long smooth motion, burying himself in that tight tight heat. He groaned out loud, his head falling forward onto Ichigo's shoulder, as the younger man's arms and legs came up around him.

"Yess … oh yes yes yes," Ichigo moaned, his insides twitching around the hard intrusion. So good!

Byakuya began to move, trying to hold on, take it slow at first, make it last … but he just couldn't. His renowned self-control fled in the face of this almost-forgotten pleasure, and he was almost immediately plunging in and out of Ichigo, who was shouting in his ear.

"Yes! Sensei! More, deeper, Sensei please! YES!"

He was unleashed. Unhinged. Byakuya Kuchiki fucked Ichigo into the couch, flesh slapping together, sweat dripping off his face, butocks flexing as he drove into the younger man. Mother fucker, it was so good, it's been so long, it was so. Fucking. GOOD.

"Kurosaki," he panted into Ichigo's ear.

And that was it for Ichigo. He came, pow! Just like that, no build-up, he popped off as soon as that voice growled his name into his ear. "Sensei … I – I'm coming! Sensei! Ah nn YES!" The pleasure exploded in his pelvis, shot outward and upward, and he shot cum into his own face it went so far, as he hung on for dear life to Byakuya's shoulders, shaking and shouting with his orgasm.

For Byakuya, it was when Ichigo's cum hit his face, and he leaned over to lick some up … the taste he'd craved for so many years (was it six? No way, really?) … when it hit his tongue and he swallowed it down … he felt the pleasure coil up inside him like a tightly-wound spring, and then it released in wave after wave of such intense pleasure that he shouted wordlessly, head back, eyes closed, hanging on tightly to Ichigo's waist, feeling his arms and legs pull him forward, Ichigo's cum smearing between their bellies and chests. He pumped his seed deep inside Ichigo, spurt after spurt, his balls cramping as they got tighter and tighter, head swimming as he gasped for breath.

Slowly it abated. He collapsed onto Ichigo, who caught and held him, both of them panting, sweaty skin sliding as arms and legs rearranged themselves. "Sensei," Ichigo said, kissing Byakuya's neck, running a hand through the sweat on his perfect back. He gave the older man's cock an affectionate squeeze with his rectum, and laughed softly when Byakuya grunted, "uh!" and shook in his arms. He petted him, kissing and wringing those little "uhs" out of him, until Sensei pushed himself up on his arms and said, "you are …." Kissing. Tongue against tongue, tasting, less passion and more feeling.

"Amazing."

XXX

Outside the apartment building where Grimmjow Jaegerjaques had seen fucking Dr. Kuchiki's Ferrari disappear into an underground parking garage, he waited, staring up at the windows that shone in the morning sunshine. Too slow. He'd been too slow all fucking morning. And now that fucker had Ichigo in his clutches. Son of a BITCH. He'd tried the door, he couldn't even get into the building without a key card. Shit shit shit.

He stared up at the windows, ignoring the looks from mothers-with-babies who passed him, eyeing him suspiciously. Which one was Ichigo's? No way to find out. Fuck. He turned around and saw that the cabbie was waiting for him. "Oh, so now yer my new best friend, huh? Well, hotshot … what's say you take me ta my next stop, quick as you can, okay? And then I'll give ya that fucking 100 thou. Sound good? Here, what the hell," he said, getting back into the cab, "here's the first half of it." He fluttered bills into the front seat.

"Get me there before 9:30 and I'll give ya a blow job," he muttered to himself in the back seat, rubbing a hand over his face, trying not to imagine what was going on in Ichigo's apartment at that. Very. Moment.

"What was that?" the little driver asked, looking at him in the rear view.

"Nothin'. Jesus, nothin'! Drive, Jeeves, fer god's sake, get me the fuck away from this place!" he slumped down in the seat, lit up a cigarette (when Jeeves began to gripe, he shut up real quick when Grimmjow fluttered more bills down on his head), and began making alternate plans. This time, it called for the big guns.

Oh, fuck yeah.

XXX

End Chapter 7.

Didja like it? I hope so! XD

More to come soon!

Ahvienda