Almost In Love v. scribbld

On finding your favorite pairings

2008-02-12T21:39:08Z

As seen on Pure Impurity:

When you’re searching using Google to find one of your favorite pairings, and the only things coming up are the fic that you have written (and one or two platonic fic), something is very wrong. :( Why is just about no one writing Tousen/Wonderweiss in English? It seemed to me to be one of the more obvious potential yaoi pairings in Bleach, yet still no one is writing the two of them in English. Is it that people just don’t like Tousen (he’s a honorable and deep character, but he’s still a hottie if that’s all you care about in anime/manga men)? Is it that the pairing is more of a sweet relationship with a potential for depth than the steamy hot against the wall sex type of thing people want to see in fic these days? Meh, I’m going to have to start searching Japanese sites and doing my warbling translation of the stuff I find to get something that doesn’t come out of my own head.

Something tells me that if Tousen was a less eloquent and thought-provoking character and was a rougher type of man who would slap his blonde around and demand a sandwich, girls would go for him more and the ‘net would be overflowing with fic with him in it. The fact that there is a good chance that I am right makes me immensely sad. :(

As a side note, if I find an erotic Tousen/Wonderweiss doujin on a site or on ebay or anywhere else, I might pass out or run around in a circle screaming. I shit you not.

(FIC) Heaven is at your side

2008-02-12T21:29:27Z

Title: Heaven is at your side
Author/Artist: Eumenides (flowerofsin)
Pairing: Tousen/Wonderweiss
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: PG
Theme: #8 - our own world
Summary: Long after everything is said and done, a different dream is alive.
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns everything, I own nothing but my imagination.

The pair trudged along the barren wasteland that was Hueco Mundo, headed for the structure that they had made their temporary home. Temporary, for there was no place that they could truly call their own anymore, rejected by both sides. There were still times that the pair had to fight for life among the rolling dunes of the landscape. Long gone was the artificial sky of Las Noches under which a small arrancar had played, his kindred spirit sitting not so far away, listening to the hollow's carefree sounds. Long gone was the dream of storming heaven's gates to place a new god on the throne that might achieve something that a lone shinigami had dreamed of whilst standing at his friend's grave. Now, there was only the two of them, the other survivors on the losing end of a seemingly unending battle having scattered long since.

The desert winds tossed the blonde's long hair as he walked next to the shorter man. The arrancar gazed over at the man beside him, mismatched sightless eyes gazing forward as they made their way home. Wonderweiss frowned. Even after all this time, he'd never forgive the shinigami that had brought such turmoil into Tousen's previous inner peace. Even now Wonderweiss could sense the creature within that beat upon the bars that Kaname had put it behind. He could always smell Tousen's underlying fear of those bars giving way, the thing unleashed never to be subjugated again. Wonderweiss clenched a fist at the memory of holding the shivering vaizard on many a dark desert night as he tried to hold his beast in check. Though the years had brought the semblance of what Tousen had before, the blonde could never forgive their former master, though he knew that Aizen would hardly care, wherever it was that his soul lay now.

Wonderweiss pushed open the door for his companion, who thanked him as he stepped inside, slipping off his cloak to hang on a hook on the nearby wall. Tousen followed the tall blonde into the kitchen where the sound of opening cabinets and clinking dishes could be heard.

“I'll make us some tea,” Wonderweiss told his companion, who took a seat at the small table.

“Thank you, Wonderweiss,” Kaname told him, enjoying the quiet within his mind for as long as it lasted. The calm and peace within himself that he remembered from his time in Soul Society and for a short time afterwards seemed like a dream, a quickly fading memory. The thing that the Hougyouku had made within him put an abrupt end to that. The years had granted Tousen further control, but sometimes he feared that this was only temporary, that the things the hollow inside of him sang to him of as he drifted off to sleep would come to pass.

Tousen let the arrancar's spiritual presence watch over him and soothe his nerves. Though he'd traced the lines and curves of Wonderweiss' body a countless number of times, he still found himself wishing that just once he could see the other man in the light of the sun. Tousen smiled faintly to himself. It was so strange how things had worked out. He'd never thought when he'd first felt the arrancar follow behind him through the corridors of Las Noches like a moth to a brightly burning flame, that he would come to depend on Wonderweiss so. The feel of him kept Kaname grounded when he felt himself adrift. The blonde had been the only one who hadn't shied away from Kaname when he'd changed.

The sound of Wonderweiss pouring the fragrant tea into his cup woke Tousen from his reverie. The blonde placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice full of concern. “Are you alright?” he asked, violet eyes examining the vaizard's face.

“I'm fine,” Kaname told him. “It's nothing.” Tousen almost believed his own words. He hoped that Wonderweiss did. He didn't want to keep troubling the arrancar. Kaname had brought him much pain over the years, not the least of which had been separation from his own kind. Tousen could never be accepted due to what he was and everything that had come to pass, which left Wonderweiss rejected in turn.

He heard Wonderweiss make a disagreeing sound before there was the sensation of a hand combing through his braids and a forehead pressing against his own. The blonde gazed into sightless eyes as he spoke, warm breath on the other man's face. “Don't say it's nothing,” he admonished.

Tousen sighed, wanting to pull the other man close to nuzzle against his warmth but feeling guilty about it. “Don't you ever regret it? Because of me, you can't-”

“It doesn't matter,” Wonderweiss interrupted. “All I want is to be with you. Ever since that time I saw you there when I was made. I don't care about anything else.” Declaration said, the arrancar sealed it with a press of lips to silence his companion's possible protests.

Tousen blinked as lips pressed insistently against his own. He let himself believe that the arrancar was right. That as long as they were together, this was what mattered. As long as he could have this, though all the blood on his hands told him that he didn't deserve it. Closing his eyes, Tousen yielded as Wonderweiss deepened the kiss. He raised a hand to entwine in long silky locks as the blonde's tongue swept his mouth possessively. Yes, this was the only taste of heaven that Tousen would ever get, but perhaps this was enough.

End

(FIC) A Beautiful Sight

2008-02-12T21:27:01Z

Title: A Beautiful Sight
Author/Artist: Eumenides (flowerofsin)
Pairing: Tousen/Wonderweiss
Fandom: Bleach
Theme: #1 - look over here
Summary: Wonderweiss gives Tousen a gift from the other world.
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns everything, I own nothing but my imagination.

Their business finished in the realm of the living, the group of arrancar headed for the place they called their home. Running to catch up with the other arrancar, Wonderweiss’ attention was caught by a patch of colorful flowers blooming in the shade under a nearby tree. Staring at them with wide eyes and a faint smile, he crouched down, reaching out to pluck them.

Looking backward, a large arrancar caught sight of him and shook his head. “Come on, Wonderweiss, What are you dallying for? We’re done here,” the arrancar called out as he turned to leave.

“I don’t even know why we had to bring him,” another arrancar said as they opened a gate back to their realm, the fabric of the space before them splitting into an area large enough for the group to pass through. The small bundle in his hands, Wonderweiss managed to catch up with the other hollows just as they stepped through and beyond.

Bounding through the corridors of Las Noches, Wonderweiss finally found who he was searching for as he entered the courtyard. The small arrancar headed toward the bench on which Tousen sat under the artificial sky. The shinigami smiled as he recognized the spiritual power of the approaching arrancar. Stopping before the seated man, Wonderweiss extended the bundle of flowers happily. That was until Tousen cast a quizzical look in his direction. The arrancar’s face fell as he realized that the man couldn’t see the gift he’d brought from the other world. The way that the shinigami navigated about their stronghold effortlessly made the arrancar sometimes forget about the man's blindness.

Wonderweiss startled at the sensation of a pair of hands covering his own. He was suddenly glad of Tousen’s lack of sight as his face heated when long fingers drew themselves along his clasped hands.

Realization dawned on Tousen’s face. “Oh, are these for me?”

Wonderweiss nodded, making a sound of agreement. The shinigami took the flowers from the arrancar’s hands. Wonderweiss watched Tousen raise one hand to his face, using his teeth to help work the black glove off of his hand. The arrancar felt strangely warm at the sight of the man's long fingers sliding downward out of the garment as Kaname's teeth plucked at the fabric.

His hand now bare, Tousen’s fingers traced the stem of each flower up to the petals, silky under his touch. The shinigami raised the bouquet upward to inhale the fragrance of the blossoms, a smile spreading across his face.

“They’re very beautiful,” Tousen said after a moment. He rarely took time to enjoy simple pleasures such as this, and was glad of the arrancar's reminder of doing so. He reached out, placing a hand on Wonderweiss’ shoulder that slid upward to cup his cheek. “Thank you, Wonderweiss.”

Blushing, the boyish arrancar made a pleased sound, moving to sit next to the man on the bench. Feeling bold, he leaned into the warmth of the man’s body, as surprised as he was pleased when the shinigami draped an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer. Wonderweiss' blush deepened when he felt the brief press of warm lips against his temple. A lopsided grin spread across the arrancar's face in answer to the man's gesture. A faint smile on his face, Tousen relaxed against the bench, the weight of the body next to him as pleasing as the scent of the blossoms clasped in his hand.

End

(FIC) Meaningless Fantasies

2008-02-12T21:25:39Z

Title: Meaningless Fantasies
Author: Eumenides
Characters: Tousen
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 655
Warnings: none
Summary: Tousen engages in a little self love while imagining that it's another.

His eyes half-lidded as he lay in his darkened bedroom, Tousen shifted against the sheets, a restless feeling in his gut. He'd had that reoccurring dream again, the one that often made him wake in the middle of the night aching, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. He pushed the blanket off of himself, nudging it with a foot to pool at the bottom of the bed. It had become far too warm in the room considering where his thoughts had taken him.

Rolling onto his other side, Kaname unfastened the belt to his yukata and spread the silky fabric. With a frustrated sigh, he allowed a hand to trail across his belly and slip downward, combing through dark curls before surrounding hardened flesh. He felt his face heat as he bit his lip. This was the most efficient way of dealing with such a thing, if he could just focus on gaining release.

But this time was just like the others. Instead of being able to quickly bring himself off, the voice from his dream returned to haunt him. It seemed to rumble low in his ear, murmuring of dark and shameful things that the man wanted to do to him, things Tousen was afraid he might enjoy. And suddenly the hand around Kaname's erection wasn't his own, but the other man's fisting him with brisk strokes. The imagined heat of a body behind him pressing close made Kaname groan almost as much as the motion of his hand.

Kaname could almost hear the laughter in the other man's voice, lips against his neck pulling into a wicked grin 'You like this, don't you?' that phantom voice told him. 'I knew you would. Not too principled to enjoy something a little dirty, hmm?' All Tousen could do was moan as he felt figment of his imagination rub himself against him from behind, hardened flesh sliding along Kaname's thigh as the other man cooed into an ear about what he'd do to Kaname first and for how long.

Moistening a finger, Tousen ran it across a nipple, plucking at it and rolling it between thumb and forefinger. Turning his head into the pillow as he groaned, Kaname could almost feel the man chuckle against his skin before nipping at his throat, laving the bite marks with a pink tongue. His hips shifting forward rhythmically, Kaname pushed through the circle of his fist, unable to prevent the movement. He had a feeling that the sight of his loss of control would either amuse or arouse the other man had he been there. Perhaps both.

A few more strokes and Tousen was there, spilling over his hand and onto his belly as the voice from his dream urged to him to yield to the pleasure that he was being given. Spent, Tousen rolled onto his back, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath while the remnants of fantasy faded and the reality of what he'd done while thinking about whom crashed in on him.

Groaning as he squeezed his eyes shut as if it would clear his mind of the visions from his dreams, Tousen was left to feelings of shame. Kaname was fairly certain that he didn't actually want the other man. They were only dreams. Harmless, meaningless fantasies that weren't an indication of anything other than a need for release of some sort. Anyone would have sufficed for them. The fact that the dreams usually manifested a certain someone wasn't anything that he should worry about.. Tousen frowned, turning a cheek against the pillow. It's not as though the arrancar would ever find out that he was the subject of Kaname's odd fantasies anyway. Lying in bed, waiting to drift off to sleep, Tousen reflected idly on the remembered description of the espada, feeling a sudden urge to card fingers through hair almost the color of a cloudless sky.

End

(FIC) The Dangers of Eavesdropping

2008-02-12T21:23:36Z

Title: The Dangers of Eavesdropping
Author: Eumenides
Rating: PG
Characters: Kenpachi, Yachiru, Ikkaku, & Yumichika
Word count: 578
Summary: An attempt at humor. Ikkaku and Yumichika overhear a conversation.
Warnings: none

Walking down the hallway, Ikkaku and Yumichika passed by their captain’s office, the sound of worry in Yachiru’s voice giving them pause.

“Nnn, I don’t know…”

“Geez, don’t be such a baby,” Kenpachi scolded.

The pairs’ ears perked up after Yachiru said, in a pouty voice, “I bet that’s going to hurt.”

Yumichika made a choked sound. “No way!” he whispered to his friend. “The captain’s not trying to-”

“Of course not!” Ikkaku whispered back in annoyance, though he moved to press an ear against the door. “Zaraki-sama’s not that kind of-”

“Come on,” Kenpachi answered her, his voice insistent. “You’re always saying how you’re a big girl now.”

“But Ken-chan…”

The pair glued themselves to the door, their eyes growing wider.

“Come on, for me?” Kenpachi murmured in a voice much sweeter than his usually rough one.

“But it’s going to hurt,” Yachiru insisted.

“Only at first,” he reassured, “then you’ll be fine.”

“I guess so,” Yachiru answered, still sounding unsure.

Horrified, Ikkaku and Yumichika heard a rustling sound, then Kenpachi saying. “Here we go.”

“No, KEN-CHAN!!!” Yachiru shrieked.

“NO WAY!!!” the two shinigami outside the door shouted. In their haste to try to get into the room to try to stop what they feared was going on, they ended up tripping over each other, falling in a heap onto the floor. Looking up, the pair caught sight of a fully clothed Yachiru sitting in a chair, pouting and gazing at a band-aid on her hand as she wiped a tear from her eye. Crouching before her was an equally clothed Kenpachi, gazing back at the pair with annoyed curiosity. A first aid kit sat on the floor off to their captain’s side. Zaraki capped the bottle of disinfectant sitting on the floor, frowning as he put it back in the kit.

“What’s with you guys lurking outside the door and then being so noisy?” he asked in a rough voice. Kenpachi squinted as he rubbed his ear. “It’s bad enough she’s trying to break my eardrums without you guys adding to it.”

Yachiru pouted. “But, Ken-chan…”

He turned to her, frowning. “Sheesh, what’s with the vice captain of the 11th acting squeamish over getting a cut when you like watching fights just fine? People will think you’re part of 4th division or something if you keep acting like that.”

Having gained his footing, Yumichika said in a relieved voice, “Thank goodness! We thought that you were-” His words were cut off by Ikkaku abruptly slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Nothing!” Ikkaku insisted. “We thought nothing at all. We were just passing by and-”

Kenpachi frowned as he stood up. “Huh? What’s with the two of you acting stranger than usual?”

Yachiru swung her legs back and forth as she sat in the chair before offering, “Maybe they thought you‘d become a lolicon or something when they heard me, Ken-chan.”

The spiritual pressure in the room suddenly went up exponentially. “EH?!” Kenpachi exclaimed.

“No! We didn’t, at least I didn’t-” Ikkaku offered as Yumichika threw him a shocked look.

“So that’s what you guys think of me, huh? There is a perverted captain in this place, but it isn’t me!”

At the sight of their captain looming closer, a deadly look on his face, the pair beat a hasty exit. An irate Kenpachi followed close behind them. Giggling, Yachiru bounded after the trio, forgetting about her injury for the time being in favor of fun.

End

(FIC) Close To You

2008-02-12T21:21:11Z

Title: Close To You
Author: Eumenides
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Tousen/Wonderweiss, minor yuri
Word Count: 2,716
Summary: Watching the more experienced gives Wonderweiss ideas.

Wonderweiss watched from his vantage point in a darkened corner as the two women walked down the hallway. Reaching her quarters, Halibel paused to open the door before guiding the other woman inside. The arrancar had barely made it through the doorway before an arm was slipped around her waist that pulled her close. Wonderweiss gazed with wide eyes as the blonde leaned down to murmur something into her Fracción’s ear that made the other woman smile. He watched as Halibel raised a hand to comb through the arrancar’s dark hair before she was pulled close for a kiss. His eyes travelled the same path Halibel’s roaming hand did as it slid across the woman’s chest, unfastening her top before sweeping white fabric aside to stroke at the pale skin beneath to the woman’s delight. Wonderweiss marveled at how Halibel bent to plant kisses on the woman’s chest as her grinning Fracción combed through her pale hair before the scene was hidden from view as the Espada edged the door closed with a foot.

Sitting in the darkened corner, Wonderweiss’ heart pounded in his chest, a warm feeling in his gut that seemed to spread lower. He touched a hand to his lips, trying to imagine what it would be like to have another set pressed to his own. He’d rarely felt this way before. The only thing that brought out similar feelings was when he watched Tousen spar by himself under the artificial blue sky of Las Noches. As Tousen was usually shirtless at the time, the arrancar would gaze at his muscled chest and belly as the shinigami practiced his swordsmanship. Wonderweiss recalled how he’d have to bite his lip as he watched perspiration bead on the shinigami’s dark skin to trickle down his chest and past his navel, disappearing into his black hakama.

“Tousen,” Wonderweiss said wonderingly before wandering off to find the man.

Kaname sat in the courtyard on a bench, enjoying the peaceful late morning. Looking in the direction of the familiar spiritual power that he sensed draw nearer, he greeted the small arrancar. To his surprise, Wonderweiss bounded toward him to kneel on the bench, putting arms around his waist and nuzzling close.

“What’s this?” Tousen asked, wondering at the hollow’s behavior. But he still put an arm around the hollow’s waist and raised a hand to stroke through his pale hair. He chuckled at the way the boyish creature tried to burrow closer because of his actions. A faint smile spread across Kaname’s face despite himself at the warm feeling in his belly. Wonderweiss seemed so innocent most of the time, even though Tousen didn’t doubt that the hollow was as dangerous a creature as most were.

Tousen frowned at the muffled words Wonderweiss murmured against his shoulder, thinking that they couldn’t have been what he thought they were. When the man made no response, Wonderweiss pulled back somewhat to gaze at the man’s face, saying more clearly, “You’re beautiful,” so that the man could hear.

Wonderweiss frowned when he was met with a wide-eyed stare in his direction. Halibel’s Fracción had seemed much happier when she’d heard those words earlier. The arrancar pouted, returning to nuzzle against the man, repeating the phrase again. He meant the words. Usually he was content to just watch the shinigami, loving the way the man moved, the man’s expressions, and the sound of his voice. Everything about him was beautiful to Wonderweiss, even if the man couldn’t physically see it.

Kaname smiled finally, chuckling as he returned the arrancar’s embrace. “You’re very sweet, Wonderweiss.”

Tousen thought nothing of it as a hand idly trailed across his chest as Wonderweiss cooed softly. But when the boyish arrancar moved to straddle him, the shinigami let out a gasp of surprise. He gazed in Wonderweiss’ direction as the blonde raised a hand to cup his face, sliding it back through the man’s hair before he leaned forward to press lips to his. In his shock, Tousen didn’t react immediately. But when the blonde tried to sloppily deepen the kiss, he planted hands on the hollow’s shoulders to push him away.

“Wonderweiss, what’s gotten into-” Tousen managed to get out before lips covered his again, Wonderweiss making an insistent sound. He tried to dislodge the small arrancar, but his grip was strong. The hands on Wonderweiss’ shoulders stopped pushing as the shinigami gave in to the feeling building within him. It seemed almost wrong, but the warm weight in Tousen’s lap and the inexperienced press of lips against his own felt rather pleasant.

A familiar voice came from not so far away, startling the shinigami. “You’re always talking about morals, and look at you. Why don’t you and your puppy get a room?” Grimmjow told the shinigami as he strolled toward them from a distance away.

Feeling embarrassed, Tousen managed to detach himself from the arrancar’s lips, pushing the blonde off his lap and making him pout. “Not that I need to explain anything to you,” Tousen began, a frown on his face, “but this isn’t what it looks like. I don’t know what brought this on.” He tried to ignore the fact that he’d begun to enjoy it before the Espada had showed up.

Grimmjow raised his hands as he walked away. “Hey, it’s not my business what you do with your little pet. You wouldn’t be the only one around this place with strange tastes.”

Tousen’s brows knitted further together as he heard the Espada saunter past. Someone like Grimmjow looking down on him was beyond exasperating. He blinked as he felt that Wonderweiss was crouching on the ground by the opposite side of the bench, most likely staring at him. The boyish arrancar made a worried sound as he bit his thumb.

“I’m not angry with you, Wonderweiss,” Kaname told the hollow in reassurance. Wonderweiss made a sound that seemed to show his uncertainty on that score. Tousen sighed. He wasn’t sure what had brought that behavior on, but the feelings that it had brought to the surface in him made Tousen uneasy. Having fond feelings for a hollow was bad enough, anything more would be unacceptable, especially with how innocent the arrancar seemed to be.

*******************************************

In the evening, Wonderweiss was wandering the halls of their stronghold. As they normally did at this time of day, his travels took him toward Tousen’s quarters. Usually, the arrancar was content to hover by the man’s room, feeling the pulse of the spiritual power within. Tonight, however, the door was slightly ajar, tempting him. Biting his lip, Wonderweiss crept closer, peeking through the crack in the door before entering as quietly as he could.

Slinking toward the bedroom of the man’s quarters, he found Tousen lying on his bed on his side, his back to the door and the covers bunched near the foot of the bed. Wonderweiss eyed the shinigami, who had shed his usual outfit in favor of a black yukata, a violet pattern woven into it. The fabric was arranged so that it exposed quite a bit of the man’s legs. Making a soft wondering sound, the arrancar moved closer, wanting to see more of the man’s skin, picturing in his mind what it would be like to sweep the fabric aside to expose the juncture of hip and thigh. Would Tousen moan the way Halibel’s Fracción had?

When Wonderweiss had nearly crept close enough, a hand extended tentatively forward, he found himself grasped by the arm and flipped onto his back on the bed, his legs partly hanging off. Simultaneous with this was the sound of what was likely a katana being unsheathed. Wonderweiss knew his ears weren’t mistaken when Tousen’s zanpakutou was held to his throat as the shinigami loomed over him.

Wonderweiss stared upward with wide eyes as he watched Tousen blink sleepily. “Wonderweiss?” he asked as his senses confirmed who it was. He sighed, sliding his sword back into its sheath and setting it on the other side of the bed. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that when I’m asleep,” he explained to the hollow. “Was there something that you wanted?”

The blonde stared at him, making a dejected sound. Everything he’d been doing lately seemed to be making the man upset with him. He hadn’t intended to make the shinigami angry. He hated that he couldn’t make the man understand what he wanted. Or maybe Tousen did understand, and that was what annoyed him. Biting his lip, Wonderweiss lurched forward, landing against the man’s chest and wrapping arms around his waist

Tousen sighed as he heard the arrancar’s muffled ‘sorry.’ He patted the blonde’s head, stroking through his hair as he nuzzled closer. “There isn’t anything to be sorry about,” Tousen told him, knowing that the small hollow was referring to his behavior earlier in the day. Tousen leaned down so that his cheek pressed against the hollow’s soft hair, making the arrancar coo softly. He frowned. Kaname hadn’t expected it, but somehow he’d become all too fond of the arrancar who shadowed his every move, liking his company. It wasn’t at all like what he’d had in Soul Society, the remembrance of quiet evenings spent in Komamura‘s company bringing on a pang of something that felt suspiciously like guilt. He pulled the hollow closer, waiting for the wave of regret to fade. No, it wasn’t like what he’d left behind at all, but it was still nice. Just like the press of the blonde’s lips against his own had been.

Wonderweiss continued to cling to the shinigami, content with having those arms thrown around him. Being close to Tousen made that gnawing hunger that was always inside of him less. He could almost forget about it entirely as he drank in the man’s warmth and felt his spiritual power wash over him. The man smelled wonderful, freshly bathed smooth skin under his cheek. Knowing he was likely going to anger the man, but not being able to help it, he raised a hand to stroke the exposed skin of the man’s chest, daring to push the yukata further open gradually to test the man’s reaction. He didn’t understand why Tousen had responded so differently than Halibel’s Fracción had. Didn’t he like him, too?

“I like you,” Wonderweiss murmured against his chest as fingers drew idle circles on Tousen’s skin.

After a long pause in which the ache in the empty spot in Wonderweiss’ chest seemed to increase, the arrancar heard, “I like you, too, Wonderweiss.” As surprised as he was pleased, the hollow pulled back to gaze up at the man, whose brows were furrowed as if in thought. The arrancar watched the shinigami worry his bottom lip with his teeth before the hands resting on his hips were drawn up his sides toward his shoulders, sliding upward to cup his face. Wonderweiss made a wondering sound as the man loomed closer, sightless eyes closing as he pressed lips against the blonde’s in a kiss.

Still feeling mildly uneasy about the situation, Tousen managed to ignore this in favor of easing the longing that he felt. Kaname deepened the kiss, parting the arrancar’s lips under his own to slide a tongue inside to sweep the blonde’s mouth lazily. Wonderweiss made a pleased sound in the back of his throat, deciding that kissing was much better when both people participated.

Tousen’s lips trailed across the line of Wonderweiss’ jaw as the blonde bared his throat obligingly. A hand rose tentatively to pluck at the top of the arrancar’s clothing. Realizing what the shinigami wanted, Wonderweiss pulled away to unfasten and peel the garment off, discarding it haphazardly before returning to press his bared skin against Tousen. The shinigami pulled the smaller form into his lap, turning him so that his nude back pressed against his chest. Wonderweiss shifted against him, enjoying the way that the man’s hands roved over his body as he nipped at his neck.

In a few moments, a hand slid downward to stroke the blonde’s lower belly, slipping lower to dip inside of his hakama. Wonderweiss gasped, writhing in the shinigami’s lap as a stroking hand surrounded him. He fisted the fabric of the man’s yukata as he moaned, arching against him.

Tousen loved the feel of soft hair against his face and the murmurings that the arrancar uttered as he worked his erection in his fist. He held him close with an arm around his upper body, enjoying the feel of the small frame in his arms.

“So beautiful, Wonderweiss,” Kaname murmured into the arrancar’s ear. For his part, Wonderweiss moaned, his hips bucking up gently into the shinigami’s fist.

The hollow’s almost desperate vocalizations told Kaname that he was close. A few moments more, and Wonderweiss was crying out, creamy fluid spilling over the shinigami’s fist. Tousen continued to milk him until he was completely spent and shivering slightly in his arms. Kaname raised his soiled hand to his face, lapping at the fluid on his fingers. Sated, Wonderweiss turned in his arms to watch the man’s actions, his spent member twitching at the sight.

Shifting in Tousen’s lap, Wonderweiss felt the hardness beneath him and heard the man’s gentle groan at the friction that his movements had caused. Wonderweiss wanted to give the man pleasure, too, remembering the Fracción’s head tilting backward in bliss as Halibel tasted her skin. Scooting off Tousen’s lap, Wonderweiss opened the man’s yukata completely. Though surprised, Tousen didn’t stop him, curious to find out the hollow’s intentions.

Finding the man nude under the garment, Wonderweiss ran a hand across his lower belly down to the shinigami’s nest of dark curls. Surrounding the man with both hands, Wonderweiss stroked him slowly, his eyes gazing between the sight of the hardening length in his hands and Tousen’s blissful face as his head rolled back onto his shoulders, his loose braids falling down his back. Wonderweiss loved the sound of that deep voice moaning his name softly. Eyes catching the sight of clear fluid beading on the crown of Tousen’s erection, the hollow leaned downward, lapping at it tentatively as he remembered how the man had tasted him. Kaname gave a surprised groan, managing to tell the arrancar that he didn’t have to continue, but making no moves to stop him. Wonderweiss had no intention of doing any such thing, enjoying the taste as much as Tousen’s vocalizations. Knowing that he could make the usually quiet man behave this way was strangely thrilling.

When the laving tongue was replaced with a suckling mouth, Kaname cried out, bracing himself against the bed with his hands. Clawing at the sheets behind him, Kaname groaned, his legs parting unconsciously as his toes curled. Wonderweiss gazed up at him, excitedly stepping up his movements. Tousen’s hips moved almost of their own volition in short strokes, pushing him through the circle of Wonderweiss’ fingers and into his warm mouth.

Panting, Kaname tried to warn the hollow of his impending orgasm. He moved to place a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, but Wonderweiss taking him deeper into that sucking mouth made the hand squeeze instead of push as he gasped. With a drawn out moan, Tousen came, his essence shooting against the back of the hollow’s throat. Though surprised at first, Wonderweiss swallowed greedily, continuing to milk the shinigami’s erection with his hands

Collapsing onto the bed, Tousen lay on his back panting as he felt Wonderweiss lap at the stray spatter on his belly with a pink tongue. The arrancar crawled up the shinigami’s body to kiss his face and lips. Pulling the arrancar against his chest, Tousen tugged the blanket up around them both, content as the smaller form burrowed closer against him under the coverlet. He could worry about the nagging of his conscience in the morning, if it ever came.

The next morning as a wandering Grimmjow noticed Wonderweiss exiting Tousen’s room practically on the shinigami’s heels, he smirked. He’d had a feeling that the shinigami was fooling around with the boyish arrancar that followed him around like a lovesick pup. He stuck his hands in his pockets as he trailed a distance behind the pair. It was always the quiet ones that had the weirdest tastes.

End

Warmth on a Dark Night

2008-02-12T21:19:21Z

Title: Warmth on a Dark Night
Author: Eumenides (flowerofsin)
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Komamura & Tousen
Prompt: 043 (entwined)
Word Count: 2,038
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Set during the Soul Society arc. With events looming on the horizon, Tousen seeks a moment’s peace.
Warnings: The pairing itself is a warning, I suppose. There’s also rimming, if that squicks you.
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns everything, I own nothing but my imagination. (You don’t want to know what I’d do if I did own Bleach…)

Leaving the impromptu meeting in the company of Komamura, Tousen marveled to himself at how everything seemed to be going as smoothly as Aizen had predicted. Despite this, the shinigami couldn’t shake a feeling of unease. He believed that the path he followed now was the best one, the just one, and yet as major events loomed on the horizon his usual inner peace seemed to have fled. Kaname frowned. Perhaps it had something to do with the shinigami who walked beside him, the warmth of Komamura’s spiritual presence soothing, but reminding him of how much he stood to lose, things he might never have again. Tousen managed not to sigh. It was going to be harder than he’d thought to walk away from this place.

When they arrived at his quarters, Tousen found himself inviting the other shinigami inside, reluctant to relinquish his company, There would be time enough for that in the near future, wouldn’t there? Komamura followed him inside, accepting the offer of tea. He took off his helmet as Tousen closed the door behind them to place on a nearby table. It was only in the quiet shinigami’s presence that he felt comfortable enough to show his true self.

Sajin hovered nearby as he watched his friend gather the items to prepare the tea, sensing that there was something amiss. He wasn’t sure what was bothering the other shinigami, but suspected that it had to do with more than just the intruders who’d recently entered Soul Society. Kaname usually opened up to him about what troubled him. Why did it feel as though there was a chasm between them now?

Lost in thought, Tousen didn’t realize that his friend was calling to him. Kaname was shaken from his reverie by Sajin laying a hand on his shoulder, his voice full of concern. “Tousen, is something wrong? You seem so distant.”

Kaname turned, the weight of the hand on his shoulder making him smile despite himself. He placed a hand over the other shinigami’s. “It’s nothing. Forgive me for worrying you. I’ve just been a little distracted recently.”

Komamura stepped closer, his hand massaging Kaname’s shoulder reassuringly. “You needn’t hide anything from me, Kaname. Anything you need from me, even if it’s just a kind ear, I’ll give it.”

There was so much sincerity in the other shinigami’s voice, and a note that spoke of something more. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Tousen found himself asking, “Anything?” in a low voice, images rising to mind of so many things he’d dreamed of but never dared ask, not wanting to risk their friendship in case he was wrong about how deep Sajin’s feelings ran. “Really?” He placed a hand on the man’s belly to slide upward toward his chest. Just once, Tousen would like to throw caution to the wind, but this would only make difficult circumstances that much harder. Even so, he still wanted this, the chance that might never come again.

His hand stilled at Komamura’s surprised gasp. Tousen drew his hand away, chastened. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. I shouldn’t assume that you have strange tastes like mine,” he said with a sad smile.

Recovering from his shock at the man’s forwardness, Komamura placed hands on the other shinigami’s shoulders, making Kaname gaze up in his direction. After searching the man’s face for a moment, Sajin pulled him close. “It’s not that,” he said finally, “I was just surprised. Tousen, do you really… even though I’m… it won’t be the same as with a normal man.”

“That doesn’t matter to me,” Tousen replied, his voice muffled against the man’s clothed chest as Kaname pressed closer, seeking out his friend’s warmth.”Something like that isn’t important at all.” Even if it was only for a moment, he wanted to put Aizen’s unfolding plans aside. And he wanted to believe that the strength of what was held between them would lead Komamura along with him when they left Soul Society, though he suspected the shinigami’s loyalties wouldn’t allow it.

Enjoying the heat of the body in his arms, Sajin nuzzled against Kaname’s neck, inhaling his scent. He wished that his friend would confide in him about what was wrong. But whatever it was that was troubling the man, for now, he would try his best to wash it away from Kaname’s thoughts.

A faint smile on his face, Kaname led Sajin toward the bedroom by a hand, his friend trailing behind him, eager but at the same time nervous. Komamura watched Tousen sit on the bed, raising hands to loosen his clothing. The sight of dark skin being bared made Sajin overcome some of his anxiety as he moved to sit next to the other shinigami. Tousen raised a hand to stroke along his friend’s face and neck pleasingly. Feeling bolder, Komamura leaned down, nuzzling against the side of the man’s face before tentatively lapping at his skin. Tousen gasped at the sensation that was moist, warm, and pleasing. He turned his face up and away, exposing his throat and hoping that Sajin would lavish it with his attentions as well. The sight of this made Sajin growl softly before he moved to lap along the line of the man’s jaw and down his throat, spreading Tousen’s clothing to bare more of the man’s skin.

Tousen arced into the touch. Grasping Komamura’s shoulders, he pulled him down with him as he moved to lie on the bed. Kaname loved the feel of that tongue trailing across the skin of his chest. He gasped as it began to lick at a nipple with quick strokes, urging it to hardness. He shifted on the bed as its twin was given similar treatment. Raising his hand, Kaname combed through the other shinigami’s fur, enjoying the feel of it under his hands. Tousen pushed at Komamura’s clothing, wanting it out of the way to expose more of his pelt. Enjoying his friend’s reaction, Komamura pulled away long enough to strip off his clothing before returning to resume his treatment of the other shinigami, enjoying the taste of the salty sweat beading on Tousen’s skin and the gentle shivers that wracked his body.

Komamura loved the sound of that deep voice moaning his name and asking for more of the treatment he was being given. Hands stroked through the fur on his neck and shoulder as he trailed down Tousen’s body. He intended to give him much more, eager to feed Tousen’s need for sensation. He made short work of the rest of Kaname’s clothing, discarding it on the floor. He lapped at the skin of his lower belly, hovering over his destination.

Kaname shivered at the sensation of warm breath caressing him intimately before a tongue trailed moistly along his length, urging it to hardness with sweeping movements over the shaft. A large hand moved to surround it as it began to rise from a nest of dark curls, stroking it firmly as that tongue ran over the crown. The clear fluid that rose after a few moments of the blissful treatment were quickly licked away as Tousen groaned, arching against the sheets.

When large hands grasped Kaname’s thighs to push them upward to expose him, Tousen gazed in Sajin’s direction quizzically before the moist and warm organ dipped low to lap at rounded globes before moving inward to taste him intimately. “K-Komamura?!” Tousen gasped in disbelief, shocked that the other shinigami was even doing such a thing. It seemed so dirty, yet the act had Kaname shifting restlessly against the sheets. He groaned as Sajin tasted every part of him he could reach, hanging sacs drawing upward as they were lapped at enthusiastically before Komamura moved back toward the man’s entrance. It excited Komamura to no end that he was able to thrill the other shinigami in this way. He wanted to give the man every pleasure that he could. He spread Tousen’s thighs further to expose the man more fully to his probing tongue. Sajin listened to the almost desperate vocalizations that the normally quiet man made, his tongue teasing the puckered entrance and slipping partly inside.

His partner’s ministrations had Kaname hips rutting the air gently of their own volition, his erection seeking out friction. Komamura sated him somewhat by returning to lap at it, the flesh bobbing slightly as his tongue worked. Komamura growled, aroused as much by the taste of the man as by the sight of him clawing at the sheets, dark braids splayed across the pillow.

Far too aroused and eager, Komamura lowered Tousen’s thighs back to the bed, chuckling at how the man raised upward, groaning at the loss of that probing tongue. Tousen lifted hands to card through his fur as Sajin loomed over him. Komamura murmured his name as he nuzzled against him. After a moment, Sajin urged the other shinigami to turn over onto his belly. Kaname complied eagerly, raising his hips up almost unconsciously as he felt large hands caress his backside.

Spying a container on a nearby shelf that would make do for their purposes, Komamura left briefly to collect the bottle of lotion before returning to the bed. Spreading some onto the fingers of one hand, he moved to press a digit against the other shinigami’s entrance, making him groan. Urging his friend to relax, Sajin pressed inside, stroking within him gently. Panting, Tousen gripped the sheets as Komamura fingered him, adding another slick digit to stretch him.

Deeming him to be ready after a few moments of stretching, Komamura removed his fingers to stroke lotion onto his erection, sighing at the feel of it. Grasping Tousen’s hips, he pressed his slick erection against him, seeking entry. Tousen groaned as Komamura pushed forward slowly, sliding through the ring of muscle with a low growl. Tousen hissed as he was breeched, stretching around the other shinigami’s girth. Komamura growled as he slid in to the hilt. He panted, trying to resist the urge to thrust into the man as he was trying to adjust. After a few moments, Kaname relaxed, pushing back against the other shinigami to urge him to move. Groaning, Sajin started a series of short rutting strokes, making the other man cry out. At first, Komamura was afraid that he was hurting the man, but Kaname’s subsequent moans told him otherwise.

Tousen grunted on each stroke of his lover’s hips, short quick thrusts building heat in his gut. He loved how the larger frame shifted to loom over him, planting hands on the bed on either side of him to brace himself as he moved within him in earnest. His erection bobbed untended between his legs, rocked by the movements of his body. Groaning, Tousen dropped his shoulders to the bed, sneaking a hand down to surround his erection with stroking fingers as Komamura continued to pound eagerly into him.

Komamura groaned at Kaname’s delicious tightness, thrilled at how the man pushed back against him while moaning his name. He licked at the sweat on Tousen’s upper back and neck. As orgasm approached, Sajin began to thrust raggedly into his partner, making the man shift agitatedly beneath him, crying out on each stroke. Growling, he couldn’t prevent himself from biting Tousen’s shoulder as he thrust deep, pouring into the other man. Tousen keened through gritted teeth, spilling onto the bed before collapsing onto it.

“Sorry,” Komamura said, distressed over not being able to control his baser urges. He lapped at the wound soothingly.

“It’s alright,” Kaname replied as he panted, shivering at the tongue stroking over the bite mark. “It felt strangely pleasurable. Don’t be troubled over it.”

Catching Kaname’s warm smile as he turned toward him, Komamura moved to pull him close. As he pulled the coverlet over the two of them, Tousen pressed against the other shinigami’s warm fur, enjoying how it tickled his skin. He pushed his worries from his mind. He could dwell on the future at another time. For now, Kaname was content to lie within the circle of Komamura’s arms and hope that in the new world that the trio would bring about, Sajin would want a place at his side.

End

(FIC) If Couches Could Talk

2008-02-12T21:17:33Z

Title: If Couches Could Talk
Author: Eumenides (flowerofsin)
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Aizen, Gin, Tousen
Prompt: 027 (Seduction)
Word Count: 2,375
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Smutty one-shot. Curiosity and longing bear fruit as the pair welcomes a third into the mix.
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns everything, I own nothing but my imagination.

His face heating as he stood by the open door, Tousen listened to the sounds made by the participants within the room. He didn’t need to see them to know what the pair of shinigami was doing. Judging from the gentle slurping sound and Aizen’s soft moaning, he could picture Gin in his mind’s eye kneeling before Aizen on the couch, his head bobbing in the other shinigami’s lap. He wondered idly if Aizen’s hand fisted the material of the couch or if it ran through Gin’s hair. He frowned. The two of them really were shameless, doing something like this when anyone could just walk by and see them. Maybe that was the point. Tousen’s brows knitted further. What did it make him for standing there listening in, trying to picture what the pair was doing. He turned, walking away down the corridor before they could sense that he was there. It wasn’t as though he was interested in this kind of thing anyway.

Though Kaname tried to put it from his mind, the memory of those sounds and the knowledge of what they’d been doing continued to haunt him during the day and for many nights afterward. Tousen tried to tell himself that he didn’t envy what the other two shinigami had, but he wasn’t even sure himself if this was entirely the case. And morning meetings had become far too uncomfortable for him. He couldn’t shake the suspicion that something else lay in Aizen’s gaze as he felt it land upon him. Had the other man known he’d been listening in that day? Tousen admonished himself for his paranoia. This wasn’t so likely since he’d only been there briefly and the other two men had been quite occupied at the time.

Later that day as his feet took him in the direction of that room again, Tousen tried to tell himself that he was merely taking a different route to the courtyard. If his pace slowed a bit as he approached the cracked door, it wasn’t because he was trying to hear anything as he sensed the spiritual power of the two shinigami within the room seated on the couch. And though Kaname’s steps halted entirely as he stood off to one side of the door where he couldn’t be seen by them, his heart pounding against his ribcage, it definitely wasn’t to eavesdrop on the amorous pair.

Instead of what he expected to hear, Tousen startled at his name being called out. Glad that the men wouldn’t be able to see his blush, Tousen pushed the door fully open as he stepped into the doorway, greeting the two shinigami and hoping that he didn’t seem as anxious outwardly as he felt within.

“Come in,” Aizen said, “We were just thinking of asking you for tea. So wonderful that you just happened to be passing by.” There was an edge to Aizen’s voice that made Tousen a little wary and secretly thrilled at the same time.

The two men made a place for Tousen to sit between them as he approached. Tousen took a seat on the couch, frowning slightly as Aizen shifted closer to him.

“To be honest, I’ve noticed that you’ve seemed ill at ease of late, Kaname,” Aizen told the other shinigami. “I hope you’re not having second thoughts about anything.”

Tousen frowned. “Of course not. As I told you in the beginning, I am committed to your plans.”

“Then what’s been troubling you?” Aizen asked as he sidled closer to the dark-skinned shinigami on the couch. Gin watched, an expression on his face of equal parts excitement and amusement.

“Nothing, Aizen. I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You’ve seemed a little distracted for the past few days,” Aizen told him as he leaned closer, speaking in a low voice. “I can’t think of anything that could have changed lately,” he continued, watching Tousen attempt to conceal a look of worry, “unless something happened recently to whet your appetite.”

Tousen heard Gin chuckle next to him as he moved closer. “It’s always the quiet ones that are perverted, eavesdropping on a couple of guys. I wonder what kind of thing you’ve been dreaming about lately. I wonder if they’re anything like this.”

Tousen startled at the feel of a hand on his thigh, another moving across his chest. As he opened his mouth in question, he found a pair of lips covering his own. Aizen took advantage of the other shinigami’s surprise to deepen the kiss, raising a hand to comb through the man’s braided hair. Gin’s hand continued to stroke Tousen’s leg, edging higher toward the junction of hip and thigh. Tousen placed a hand over Gin’s roving one in an attempt to still it, but the other shinigami was insistent. That hand reached its destination, stroking Kaname’s groin, making him moan into Aizen’s delving mouth.

Tousen managed to break away from Aizen’s lips, though the man continued to stroke his chest with one hand. “What are you doing?” Kaname asked, slightly breathless. He heard Gin chuckle nearby and felt his warm breath on one ear before he nipped at it.

“What do you think we’re doing?” Gin asked him, lapping at his ear slightly. He squeezed at the man’s groin, making him gasp. “You were listening because you were curious, right?”

“Isn’t this a wonderful way of satisfying that curiosity?” Aizen added. He raised a hand to sweep Tousen’s braids aside, planting several kisses onto the line of his jaw. “And it’s a nice cure for the frustration you’ve been feeling lately, yes?”

As annoyed as he was excited, Tousen pushed at the two shinigami, attempting to dislodge them. “I don’t want to be part of some perverse game between the two of you.” His eyes narrowed. “And I’ve never had a use for pity, so I hardly need any now.”

He heard Aizen chuckle nearby and felt him lay a hand over the one he had placed on the shinigami’s chest. Aizen raised Tousen’s hand to his face, lapping at the man’s exposed fingers. Surprised, Tousen attempted to pull away, but Aizen’s hold was insistent.

“There’s never been a time when I pitied you, Tousen,” Sosuke began, “and the only game I want to play involves you becoming a bit more horizontal,” he finished, pushing Tousen off balance so that he fell into Gin’s waiting lap. The pale haired shinigami pulled Tousen close and shifted so that he lay between his spread legs, Kaname’s back against his chest as he rested against the arm of the couch.

Tousen shifted in Gin’s arms, mildly alarmed, moderately annoyed, and more excited than he wanted to admit as he felt Aizen move to hover over him. “Aizen, I’m not in the mood for this kind of-” Tousen tried to protest before Aizen covered his mouth with his own once more, his hands roving over the other man’s body.

His heart pounding in his chest, Tousen’s resolve to struggle against the two men was weakening. He was awash with sensation, stroking hands over his clothed skin, lips kissing his neck and face. He sighed. Was it so wrong to allow this, when he’d been fantasizing about just this kind of thing when he was alone? The reality of things was shaping up to be much better. He tipped his head back against Gin’s shoulder, allowing Gin to nibble on his neck as Aizen began to unfasten his garments, sweeping the white fabric aside to expose dark skin. Tousen gasped as he felt a mouth fasten to a nipple, suckling it until it hardened. Gin’s hand stroked the skin of his belly, dipping lower to slip inside his hakama. Tousen groaned as Gin fondled what he found there deliciously.

Aizen loosened his own clothing as he trailed down Tousen’s body. Reaching his destination as he moved to kneel on the floor, Sosuke pulled Kaname’s hakama off entirely. He moved to surround the shinigami’s erection with a stroking hand as Gin’s moved away to trail across Tousen’s belly. Smirking, Aizen bowed his head to take the other man inside, chuckling around his erection at the sound of Kaname’s surprised moan.

Tousen tilted his head back, crying out as Aizen’s mouth sheathed him in moist warmth. The dark haired shinigami worked his member expertly, drawing him into hardness quickly. Tousen shifted on the couch, moaning uncontrollably as Gin nibbled on the shell of his ear, one of his hands moving to tweak an erect nipple. Gin’s other hand slid downward to comb through Aizen’s hair as he worked, causing the other shinigami to smile around Tousen’s length.

When Kaname thought he wouldn’t be able to take much of this treatment without reaching his peak, Aizen pulled away with a moist sound. Aizen chuckled at the frustrated groan Tousen gave when he stopped. An eager look on his face, Sosuke urged Tousen to turn over so that he straddled Gin on the couch. Smirking, the pale haired shinigami pulled Kaname close as Aizen began to caress Tousen’s firm buttocks.

Aizen drew a finger into his mouth to moisten it, lowering his hand to run it across Tousen’s entrance, making the other shinigami gasp at the strange sensation. Sosuke grinned as he watched his comrade shift on top of Gin, who seemed all too pleased at the friction.

“No one’s ever been in here, have they?” Aizen asked as he stroked across puckered skin.

Kaname felt his face heat. “No, of course not.”

The other shinigami smirked. “Then I should treat it properly since it’s your first time.

Gin noted how the quizzical expression on Tousen’s face became one of surprise as Aizen leaned down to lap at Tousen’s entrance. He loved how expressive the man’s face was, watching Kaname’s brows knit together as he bowed his head groaning, overcome by the strange pleasure of Aizen’s ministrations. Gin tangled a hand in Tousen’s hair, pulling him downward to seal lips over his open mouth, swallowing his subsequent moans. They kissed hungrily, Tousen pushing back against Aizen, seeking more sensation and making the other shinigami smile.

When Aizen pulled away after a few moments, Tousen groaned in frustration until Gin distracted him with a stroking hand and delving mouth. The sensation of a finger slick with whatever Aizen had moved away to grasp made Kaname groan into Gin’s mouth before he pulled away to gasp.

“Just relax,” Sosuke told him, withdrawing the digit then pressing it deeper into his tight passage. Aizen sounded slightly breathless, eager over the prospect of burying himself into the heat he’d begun to probe.

Unnerved but still excited, Kaname tried to relax, allowing another probing digit to join the first. He felt them scissor against each other within him before they started to stroke against something deep inside that made him gasp. Gin chuckled under him, fisting both their erections together for the added pleasure of delicious friction.

“Just wait,” Gin told him, “It’ll get even better.”

When Sosuke removed his fingers to press something much thicker against his opening, Kaname bit his lip in discomfort as he tensed. Aizen leaned over him, murmuring placating words as he pushed gently against him, getting the other shinigami to relax enough for him to slip inside. Tousen groaned as Aizen pushed forward, breeching him. Panting, Kaname tried to relax. The sensation was uncomfortable at first but at the same time strangely pleasing. Aizen pushed in slowly, allowing the man time to adjust. Gin stepped up the movement of his hand, making Kaname moan loudly from the dual sensations as Aizen sank in to the hilt.

After a brief respite where Sosuke thought he’d almost go mad from being buried in such tightness without moving, he began to thrust, first gently then more firmly as the pleasure of it began to undo him. Kaname tossed his head back as he cried out, a cascade of braids falling over his shoulders. Gin stroked all the skin he could reach with one hand as he fondled himself with another, excited by the usually quiet man’s vocalizations as Aizen moved within him.

Sosuke moved to sit on the couch, pulling Kaname with him. Tousen cried out as he moved backward, gravity impaling him on Aizen’s erection. Panting, Sosuke pushed hungrily up into him. Gin watched with interest as Kaname’s head fell back against Aizen’s shoulder, sweat beading on dark skin as he cried out on each thrust.

It wasn’t long before Aizen was undone by the tight heat of the other man, Giving off a groan that was more of a growl, he spilled deep inside of the other shinigami before collapsing against the arm of the couch, pulling Tousen with him. Kaname let out a groan of disappointment at being left on the brink of orgasm, his erection hard and aching. That was until he felt Gin move between his legs, slipping inside as Aizen vacated with a long firm thrust that made Kaname clench his teeth.

Panting, Gin’s hand gripped the other shinigami’s hip as he pushed into him, far too excited to think about if he was being rough or not. By the way Kaname behaved, he didn’t seem to mind, raising hands to claw at the man’s back as he wrapped a leg around his waist, bucking against him. Aizen nipped at Kaname’s shoulder, enjoying being pressed against the couch by the weight of the two men. Gin leaned forward to kiss Sosuke sloppily over Tousen’s shoulder before he sealed his mouth to Kaname’s, kissing him as deeply as he plunged into him.

It wasn’t much longer before Kaname broke the kiss to wail, sightless eyes rolling back into his head as he clenched around Gin. His essence splashed between them, slick on both their bellies. Gin was able to thrust inside of him a few more times before the tight heat caused him to go over the edge, spilling warmly inside the other shinigami. They collapsed against the couch, Aizen grunting softly beneath them.

After a few moments of catching his breath, Gin remarked, “This was much better than having tea,” his voice muffled slightly by Kaname’s shoulder. Lying between the two men sweaty and sated, Tousen couldn’t help but agree.

End

The Good Kind of Ache

2008-02-12T21:15:29Z

Title: The Good Kind of Ache
Author: Eumenides (flowerofsin)
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Aizen, Tousen
Prompt: 004 (sore)
Word Count: 1,238
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A moment between lovers. No spoilers (this one could take place in any arc, to be honest)
Warnings: Beware of m/m loving.
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Bleach. Kubo Tite rules all.

Unable to get to sleep, one of two figures on a bed opened his eyes in the dimly lit room. Shifting on his side of the bed, Kaname suppressed a groan. He sighed, unable to get comfortable due to aches in rather intimate places. He enjoyed his partner’s enthusiasm during the act, afterwards not as much.

The body behind Tousen shifted closer, a bare chest pressing warmly against his back. An arm wound its way around his waist as Aizen spooned against him, nuzzling his neck.

“You keep fidgeting,” Sosuke remarked. “Sore?” His voice held mostly amusement, but also a hint of concern.

“It’s nothing,” Kaname answered, shifting against the sheets once more. “I’m hardly delicate, you know.”

“Of course,” Aizen said. Tousen could feel the man’s lips pull into a smile against his shoulder before the other shinigami planted a kiss there. “But still, I feel as though I should make it up to you.” The arm draped around Kaname’s waist moved so that Aizen’s hand drifted lower, sliding across his belly and down toward a nest of dark curls.

“I think that’s how I got into this predicament,” Tousen told him, moving to place a hand on top of Aizen’s wandering one, but not hindering its movements. “For someone with so much control most days, you have large appetites.”

“I could say the same of you, you know,” Aizen replied. “I was going to let you top this time, but since you’re not up to it-” Aizen was cut off by Tousen twisting to grasp him, pushing Aizen onto his back and moving to straddle him.

Sightless eyes were cast down in Aizen’s direction, a curtain of dark braids framing Tousen’s face. “Did you say you were going to allow me to do something?” Kaname asked as he pressed Aizen against the sheets.

He could hear the laughter in Sosuke’s voice as he shifted teasingly beneath him. “It seems I didn’t wear you out completely. I’ll make a better effort next time.”

Smiling faintly, Tousen released one of Sosuke’s wrists in favor of trailing his fingertips over the other shinigami’s cheek and across his lips. That satisfied smile was there as Kaname knew it would be. As his fingers traveled down his neck to rest on Aizen’s chest, touch suddenly seemed inadequate. The feel of Sosuke brushing up against him wasn’t enough. Nor the scent of him, or the small sound that Aizen made in the back of his throat as he tweaked a nipple. Just once Kaname wanted to see a scene like this, to know what the heated skin he touched looked like, how low the flush went when Aizen was aroused, what sweat looked like beading on his creamy skin. Tousen satisfied himself for the moment with leaning down to taste the other man, first his lips then the skin of his muscled chest and belly.

Aizen’s hand found its way downward, combing through dark braids as warm breath caressed him intimately before lips sheathed his growing erection. “It seems like I’m the one getting pampered,” Aizen remarked with a sigh before biting his lip. When he recovered, he added, “I’m not about to complain about it, though,” sounding slightly out of breath. Tousen paused, smiling around his lover’s length before resuming his efforts.

Gazing downward, Sosuke couldn’t take his eyes away. The sight of his erection passing those full lips was mesmerizing. But even better than the sight of it was the feel of how lips and tongue caressed his hardening length. Kaname paused to moisten a finger before sliding it back to toy with his lover’s entrance as he drew Aizen’s erection past his lips once more. He could hear the rustling of the sheets as Sosuke pulled them into his tight grip, arching against them. His choked cry as he was taken in deeper was music to Kaname’s ears.

Soon, Tousen heard the sound of a hand fumbling on the side table before he felt a small container being pressed into the hand resting on Aizen’s belly. Kaname let the other man’s length leave his mouth with a moist sound as he grasped the proffered jar.

“You’re so eager,” Kaname said, twisting open the jar. “It’s better when this kind of thing is drawn out.”

Aizen’s body shook slightly with his faint laughter. “If it’s drawn out any longer, I’m just going to make a mess.”

Tousen smiled as he moistened the fingers of one hand with the slick substance, picturing in his mind’s eye how the other man looked lying there, flushed and with his legs wantonly spread. “That was the general idea.” His grin broadened as he fingered his lover. “I’m fairly confident that I could bring you twice in one night.”

Aizen propped himself up to watch Tousen press first one then two slippery fingers inside of him. “Oh, I’m sure you can,” he said with a knowing grin. “It’s just been too long since you’ve done this. It’s making me a little impatient,” he admitted.

Kaname crawled between his spread legs without disengaging his probing fingers. He managed to find AIzen’s lips, parting them under his own. Their tongues slid over one another as they kissed hungrily. Sosuke had to break the kiss to moan when Kaname’s fingers slid against a certain spot inside him, making him shiver. Judging that his partner was ready by the way he was grinding against his deeply pressed fingers, Tousen withdrew to grasp the jar again, spreading the substance on his erection. He positioned himself, pushing slowly inside. Kaname had to smile when Aizen pressed back against him with an eager groan, partially impaling himself. A hand found Tousen’s shoulder as he leaned down for a kiss. Pulling away slightly, Tousen began to move, Aizen raising his legs to wrap around the other man’s waist as he thrust inside.

Their bodies soon finding a rhythm, Tousen wasn’t sure how long he’d last. It had been far too long since he’d been inside the other man who was deliciously tight. Not to mention how arousing he found Aizen’s soft cries that the shinigami tried to muffle by pressing his face against his shoulder. Or the way Sosuke’s fingernails scraped bluntly against his skin, leaving marks. As Aizen began to nip along his shoulder, Tousen pushed deeper, making the other man arch. Kaname ran fingers through Sosuke’s sweat dampened hair as he nibbled along his exposed throat. With Aizen shifting restlessly beneath him, Tousen stepped up his movements. It was a matter of consideration and pride to make his lover come before he did.

Aizen’s hands clenched on Tousen’s shoulders, his legs tightening around the other shinigami’s waist. Sosuke groaned as his essence splashed between them. Tousen managed a few more thrusts into his lover’s tensed body before spilling deep inside of him. Out of breath, Kaname momentarily collapsed on top of his lover before rolling off and onto his back with a satisfied sound.

He listened to Aizen’s heavy breathing as he recovered. After a short while, Tousen could hear his lover shifting against the sheets. He smirked, saying, “Now it seems as though we can both be sore in the morning.”

“It’s not so bad,” Sosuke remarked as he sidled closer to drape an arm over the other shinigami. “I rather like this kind of ache.”

“It figures that you would,” Tousen remarked, receiving a chuckle in answer.

End

Unnamed

2008-02-12T21:13:52Z

Title: Unnamed
Author: Eumenides (flowerofsin)
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Kenpachi
Prompt: 034 (encounter)
Word Count: 830
Rating: PG
Summary: Set after the end of Kenpachi & Ichigo’s fight during the Soul Society arc. Kenpachi get a glimpse of someone he has until recently ignored.
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns everything, I own nothing but my imagination.

“I know it’s a little late for this, but could you tell me your name?”

Kenpachi pressed the hilt of the broken blade to his forehead, a grimace on his face. He did want to become stronger, but wasn’t all that kind of talk just nonsense? He wasn’t sure he believed in it, but hadn’t he seen the results with his own eyes? How that kid was able to fight him to a standstill. But if a blade was really more than a tool, why had he never heard it after countless years of fighting?

Kenpachi could hear Yachiru speaking to him, but the sound seemed muffled. His eyes grew heavy and closed as his injuries caught up with him. Distantly came the metallic clang of his sword striking the ground as he slipped into the darkness.

Suddenly, his eyes opened, and he gazed up into a sky full of angry dark clouds that streaked across it. Sitting up, Kenpachi gazed around at barren earth, dust swirling on the blowing winds that surrounded him. Kenpachi wiped at his eyes, his vision blurring for the moment.

Before he was able to question where he was aloud, on the rocky crag before him a dark figure began to appear in the previously empty air. As Kenpachi moved into a ready position, unsure if this was a friend or a foe, he was taken aback at the blurred figure resolving into a female form. She wore a tattered kimono, the fabric of which was tossed about in the wind. It seemed to once have been white but had become discolored, now varied shades of off white and grey. What Kenpachi first mistook as a red pattern the shape of which seemed odd to him for a kimono, he soon realized were blood stains. On a closer look, the woman’s right hand was covered in the red substance. It dripped down her fingers and long sharp nails. Whose blood it was, he couldn’t be certain. The woman’s head was slightly bowed, obscured by long locks of untamed hair that rustled about her face due to the high winds.

“Hey, woman,” Zaraki called to her, “Who are you? What is this place?”

The woman’s mouth seemed to be moving, but there was no sound that Kenpachi could hear. For some reason, he didn’t get the sense that she was an enemy despite her appearance. He moved into a more relaxed stance before moving to approach her. Oddly enough, though he continued to step forward, he got no closer to her.

“Hey, what’s going on? Who are you?” he demanded.

The tattered looking woman raised her head, some of her long locks sweeping under her chin. She had a scar that ran from her ear down her right cheek, and piercing eyes that seemed to glow faintly. She spoke again, yet there was no sound, even though it seemed to Kenpachi as though she was calling out loudly to him.

Kenpachi stopped walking, balling his hands into fists and bowing his head. Was this just some sort of dream? A silly, useless-

“All this time I’ve been shouting, and you still can’t hear me,” a deep female voice said. Kenpachi’s head snapped up in the direction of the rocky structure, but the woman was no longer on it. He took a step backward as the woman suddenly appeared before him. In her bloodied hand, she held his zanpakutou. The blood on her hand stained the hilt and dripped down the ragged blade.

She flipped it in her grasp so that the blade pointed toward the barren earth. She held it up, offering it to him. “You can only hear if you believe in me. Do you?”

Kenpachi closed his larger hand over hers on the hilt of his zanpakutou. “I-yeah. Yeah, I do.” His gaze shifted to the blade, then back to the woman. “Now, will you tell me your name?” Kenpachi asked as he looked down into her eyes.

“I’m not sure,” she answered. “I haven’t decided if you deserve to know yet.” Her lips pulled into a lopsided grin, partly exposing sharpened teeth as the wind whipped loudly around them.

Sitting up abruptly in bed, Kenpachi gripped his aching side as he stifled a groan. He looked around to see his quarters, Yachiru bouncing excitedly by his side.

“Ken-chan is awake!” Yachiru exclaimed happily.

“Yeah,” Zaraki remarked. Yachiru gave him a questioning look when she noticed his downcast expression. Glancing toward his side, he saw his now intact zanpakutou leaning against the wall. Against Yachiru’s protests, he rose from the bed to retrieve the sword, sitting down heavily on the bed again. Despite his aches, he unsheathed it, the ragged blade glinting in the light as he held it up. The sword felt familiar in his hand, yet somehow different.

“I’ll get you to tell me your name,” Kenpachi said with certainty. In that odd world within, a feral grin split her face.

End

(FIC) Taming

2008-02-12T21:11:19Z

Title: Taming
Author: Eumenides
Pairing: Aizen/Grimmjow, Aizen/Gin/Grimmjow
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Mild bondage, domination, mild non-con
Summary: A smutty one-shot. Aizen decides to train Grimmjow to be a better minion.

“Are you listening, Grimmjow?” Aizen asked, sitting in his chair, legs crossed casually.

“Yeah, yeah,” Grimmjow answered. His eyes narrowed. He’d known what he was in for when he was summoned, but he still hated being admonished like some child. There were times when he resented the shinigami, doling out punishments for the failure of his minions when he rarely stepped beyond his stronghold, sending arrancar out to do his bidding. If the man thought it was so easy, he should try it himself some time. Grimmjow watched Aizen grasp his teacup from a nearby table, taking a long sip from it. Grimmjow’s eyes then landed upon Gin, who stood a distance away, gazing at Aizen expectantly.

“You just can’t seem to obey me, can you?” Aizen said in a disappointed voice. He set the teacup back on its saucer before turning to regard the hollow again. “You’re always setting off on your own, and you still end up unable to accomplish anything meaningful.”

Grimmjow grinded his teeth lest he let loose words that would put him into deeper trouble than he was already in. Aizen took in the arrancar’s tense stance, canting his head to one side. “There’s still so much animal in you, isn’t there? It makes you unpredictable. Tousen worries about you becoming a liability to us, and I tend to listen to him in such matters.” Aizen paused, enjoying the hollow’s poorly disguised worry before continuing. “However, animals can be trained.”

Aizen rose abruptly from his seat, stalking toward the arrancar who watched him warily. Out of the corner of his eye, Grimmjow noticed that Gin seemed more amused than usual. Suddenly, Grimmjow gasped, feeling the crushing power of Aizen’s spiritual strength. He fell to his knees, trying to brace himself against the weight of it.

“One of the laws of the wild is that an animal yields to the stronger creature,” Aizen told him as he approached, removing something from his pocket. “I think it’s always been fairly clear who the stronger of us is.”

As he kneeled with his head bowed, Grimmjow soon felt something fastened around his neck. Realizing what it was, he growled, raising his hands to finger the collar. He couldn’t find any sort of buckle or clasp. In desperation, the hollow tugged at it. No matter how hard he tried, the arrancar was unable to remove it. “You can’t treat me like this!” he shouted angrily. He was nobody’s pet, not Aizen’s or anyone else’s.

Aizen grabbed a fist full of teal hair, wrenching Grimmjow’s head backward by it to stare down into his face, still wearing a faint smile. There was a dangerous edge to his voice. “If it weren’t for me, you’d still be crawling around on all fours. I made you what you are now. You couldn’t have achieved it without me.”

Aizen let go, turning his back on the hollow to reclaim his chair. Once seated, he gazed at the hollow in amusement. For all the arrancar’s posturing, he had little power against the shinigami. The arrancar was held in a submissive position so easily by the stronger man, and he knew it. Aizen smirked at the heated look on Grimmjow’s face. Placing an elbow on the armrest, he leaned his cheek against his hand, considering.

“Actually, I think you might look rather good on all fours,” Aizen remarked. His smile broadened. “A good master doesn’t just train an animal with negative reinforcement alone.” He turned, grasping the saucer from beneath the teacup on the table to place at his feet. Grimmjow watched the man pick up a small bottle of milk, pouring the white liquid into the saucer on the floor. “A treat for you if you can crawl to me properly,” he explained. Aizen looked up, meeting Grimmjow’s eyes that were darkening in anger. He relaxed against the high backed chair, waiting.

Grimmjow glared at the shinigami before glancing at Gin, who made a stifled sound of laughter from where he stood leaning against the wall. Grimmjow’s eyes narrowed. If Aizen thought that he’d humiliate himself like this in front of him and his shinigami friend, he was horribly mistaken.

Aizen sighed, giving Grimmjow an annoyed look before letting the weight of his spiritual power increase. He watched Grimmjow shiver as he groaned in pain, pushed from a kneeling position to one of all fours beneath the shinigami’s spiritual strength. It was all Grimmjow could do to keep from being pushed face down onto the cool floor.

“Things will turn out much better for you when you decide to obey me, Grimmjow,” Aizen remarked. His voice held a note of warning. “I’m being very generous toward you when there are many who would want to take your place.”

Grimmjow cursed under his breath, well aware that the shinigami could make good on his threat. Managing to raise his head, Grimmjow slowly crawled forward, his face heating in shame. He didn’t look at Aizen’s face, not wanting to see the satisfied smirk etched onto his features. When he’d made it nearer to the seated shinigami, the spiritual pressure began to lift. Pausing before the saucer, Grimmjow could feel Aizen’s eyes on him as he leaned downward to lap at the milk the shinigami had poured into it.

Smiling, Aizen took in the scene of the proud and unruly hollow bending low to lap at the milk like a housecat. The shinigami gazed at the arrancar’s face that was flushed in angry embarrassment. He watched the way Grimmjow’s pink tongue lapped rhythmically at the milk in the saucer with interest until he’d drained it.

“I knew you could behave if you want to,” Aizen remarked, reaching down to grasp the collar, pulling Grimmjow into a kneeling position between his thighs by it. “It just takes the right incentive.” He gazed into stormy eyes as he wiped a stray droplet of milk at the corner of the hollow’s mouth away with his thumb.

Grimmjow felt uneasy as he noticed the hungry way Aizen seemed to gaze at him. The shinigami spoke to him in a murmuring voice, giving the hollow a sly look. “I’m sure that mouth of yours is good for more than spewing insolent words.”

When the arrancar saw how one of the shinigami’s hands moved to unfasten his pants, he tried to pull away, pushing at the man’s thighs. “Hey, what’s with you? I’m not into guys!”

Aizen gave him a disapproving look, grabbing his wrists and wrenching the hollow’s arms behind his back by them. “We won’t be having any of that.”

Grimmjow felt the shinigami’s power wash over him, making him feel weak. It was all he could do to keep from falling face first into the man’s lap. He felt Aizen tear the black fabric from around his waist to bind his hands behind his back with it. Aizen gave the bonds a tug to test them, before leaning back in his seat again, pulling Grimmjow forward by the collar with one hand, using his other to free his erection. “I might be tempted to forgive your outburst if you please me. If not…”

His eyes downcast, Grimmjow glared at the erection jutting toward his face. He gave a defeated sigh. There wasn’t much he could do to get out of this. He didn’t want to know what would happen to him were he to refuse. So he leaned forward to lap at the crown of it experimentally. Aizen would have none of this reluctance. Cupping the back of his head, he pulled the hollow forward onto his erection. The surprised arrancar nearly choked as he found the head of it tickling the back of his throat before Aizen allowed him to pull backwards.

Aizen guided the hollow’s movements with a hand at the nape of his neck, enjoying the sight of his erection disappearing past Grimmjow’s lips. “Ah, you can be a little more enthusiastic about it, can’t you? Use your tongue more,” he instructed. Not meeting his eyes, Grimmjow tried to comply, his face flushed in shame.

The shinigami urged the hollow to quicken his movements, beginning to thrust up into his mouth in search of more sensation. The arrancar listened to the shinigami’s deep breathing as he worked, just trying to get through with it. There was a moment when Grimmjow feared that Aizen was going to come in his mouth. He was relieved when the shinigami pulled him away from his erection. The smirk on the man’s face told him that he wouldn’t be for long.

Aizen rose from his seat, pushing Grimmjow against the floor on his back before rolling him over onto his belly. He pulled the hollow’s hakama down out of the way, exposing his rear to the air. “Very nice,” the shinigami remarked. “Maybe I’ll get you some clothing that shows this part of you off a little better.” He gave a taut cheek a squeeze, earning a grunt from the arrancar.

It wasn’t long before Grimmjow felt fingers slick with some substance prodding his entrance. He squirmed at the uncomfortable feeling. His protests went largely ignored by Aizen, who pressed the fingers deeper inside of him.

The shinigami pulled away after a few moments to move behind him, positioning the arrancar so that he was on his knees with his upper body resting on the floor. He chuckled as he noticed the state that Grimmjow was in as he resumed fingering him.

“For someone who claims to not like men, you certainly are hard for me,” Aizen remarked, humor in his voice.

Grimmjow tried to turn slightly to look at the shinigami. “I don’t!” he insisted. “I-it’s whatever you’re doing,” he managed to say between groans. The way that the shinigami was moving his fingers inside of him made shivers run down his spine. He didn’t want to enjoy the way that the shinigami was treating him, but his body seemed to have other ideas.

After a few moments, Aizen removed his fingers from the hollow, Grimmjow breathing a sigh of relief. His reprieve was short-lived since the shinigami soon began to press something thicker than his fingers against his entrance. Grimmjow groaned, twisting but unable to move very far under the weight of the man’s spiritual power.

“You’d enjoy this much more if you’d just relax,” Aizen told him before pushing forward again, slowly sinking inside the hollow without giving him much time to adjust. Grimmjow groaned at the sensation of being filled so quickly, stretching uncomfortably.

Once Aizen was inside to the hilt, he took a few moments to savor the tightness of Grimmjow’s passage as it twitched around him. Grasping the hollow’s hips firmly, Aizen pulled out only to sink deeply inside again, moving his hips in a languid motion.

Grimmjow panted, his eyes tightly shut as he felt the shinigami move within him. He groaned as the other man picked up the pace of his movements. The burning discomfort that Grimmjow had first felt was beginning to change into something oddly pleasant, which horrified the arrancar to no end. What was happening to him was so perverse and yet he was enjoying it on some level. A change in the angle of penetration had the arrancar making a choked sound before crying out as the shinigami pushed rhythmically against something within him that made him see stars.

Aizen panted, a faint smile on his face as he took in Grimmjow’s flushed skin and vocalizations. “I told you. It’s rather nice now, yes?” Grimmjow’s only answer was a groan as the shinigami continued to move inside him.

Before long, Grimmjow noticed a shadow looming over him. Turning his eyes upward, he realized that it was Gin. He’d almost forgotten that the other shinigami had been watching the whole time. But he was assured of his presence now as the shinigami pushed his erection past his lips. Gin moaned, using short rutting strokes to pump his erection into the hollow’s mouth.

Grimmjow shifted on the cool floor, held between the two shinigami seeking their pleasure from his body. He groaned around Gin’s erection due to Aizen’s thrusts, making the pale haired shinigami shiver. His own erection hung neglected between his legs, bobbing as his body was pushed to and fro by the men’s movements. Until Aizen reached around his body to stroke him in time to his thrusts.

Aizen chuckled as he heard the negating sound Grimmjow managed to get out around his mouthful. “Come now, Grimmjow. There’s no sense in continuing to pretend that you’re not enjoying our attention. This,” he said, giving his erection a firm squeeze, “proves otherwise.”

Grimmjow groaned as Aizen pushed raggedly inside of him. The dual sensations were too much for him. With a muffled cry, he spilled over Aizen’s hand onto the floor. The dark-haired shinigami was pushed over the edge by the passage clenching around him. He emptied himself deep within Grimmjow after a few more rough thrusts. He sighed, pulling out of the arrancar’s entrance. As his chest heaved, Aizen watched with interest as Gin threw back his head with a soft cry, shooting against the back of Grimmjow’s throat as the hollow made a displeased face. He had to swallow so as not to be choked by it. A small amount of Gin’s essence trickled out of the hollow’s mouth as the man pulled out. Grimmjow coughed slightly as he took labored breaths.

The arrancar laid on the floor, spent and sweaty, his eyes gazing absently before him. He shifted so that he lay on his side, wincing at the soreness in his muscles and places he never thought he’d feel pain. He shuddered as Aizen laid a hand on his back to stroke skin slick with perspiration.

“I think I can overlook your previous transgressions,” the shinigami told him. “Your ability to fight doesn’t seem to be your only use to me.”

Wanting to shake off the shinigami’s petting hand, Grimmjow tried to catch his breath, feeling too weak to offer any sort of protest. In a daze he listened as Aizen told him he’d continue to wear the collar as a reminder of who he belonged to.

End

(FIC) Kindred, Part Two

2008-02-12T21:08:49Z

Title: Kindred, Part Two
Author: Eumenides
Pairing: Kenpachi/Grimmjow
Rating: NC-17
Summary: AU yaoi fic. Grimmjow draws the attention of one of the new members to join their inner circle in Hueco Mundo.

Part Two

That night, it took an inordinate amount of time for Grimmjow to finally slip off into sleep as restless as he felt after what had occurred between himself and Zaraki. In his dreams, Grimmjow rested on a soft bed, his eyes closed. He could feel the mattress dip as the weight of another person was added to the bed. Soon, a larger form that was strangely familiar spooned against him from behind. Muscular arms wrapped around him to pull him close, a hand slipping downwards to cup his groin, squeezing teasingly. Grimmjow moaned, wanting to get away almost as much as he wanted to allow the touch.

A deep voice rumbled in his ear. ‘What does it matter as long as it feels good?’

Hardness rubbed against his thigh, making him shiver. ‘I could make you scream, you know,’ that voice told him as something thick and stiff pressed against his entrance.

Grimmjow woke with a start, perspiration on his face. He turned around swiftly, half expecting to see the shinigami’s face smiling back at him from where he lay naked under the sheets. But the bed behind him was empty, the blankets lying twisted on the floor. The hollow frowned, denying that he felt a lingering sense of disappointment over this. He groaned at the state that he was in, hard and aching over something that had only been a dream. His face flushed, Grimmjow reached into his pants to pull out his erection, fisting it with quick strokes. He tried his best to keep his thoughts on women with soft skin and voluptuous curves, but his mind kept straying back to the sight of soapy water glistening on Kenpachi’s skin in the bath and the sensation of his thick erection sliding along his crevice as the man brought himself off with a low growl. The memory of it had Grimmjow letting out a choked cry as he spilled over his own hand, shivering. He went to the bathroom to clean himself up, not wanting to dwell on the way his mind had been working recently.

After he got dressed, Grimmjow set out, determined to avoid or ignore the shinigami if possible. But it soon seemed like effort on his part wouldn’t be necessary. Zaraki wasn’t at the morning meeting, nor was he anywhere in sight for much of the day. Grimmjow found himself feeling annoyed. How could he show the shinigami that he couldn’t have cared less about what had happened the previous day if he wasn’t even around?

Near midday, Grimmjow was walking through the courtyard when he noticed Yachiru and Wonderweiss playing what appeared to be a game of tag, with Tousen seated on a bench nearby. He had intended to steer clear of them when the girl looked over, noticing him as he paused to turn. She called to him, waving excitedly, Tousen turning in his direction as well. Grimmjow sighed, approaching the group since there was no apparent escape now.

The pink haired girl bounded up to him. “Hi, Nekochan!”

Grimmjow frowned, his lips curling into a sneer. “Hey, kid, I’m not a cat, so don’t call me that.”

Yachiru gave him a questioning look. “Huh? Ken-chan told me that you turn into a big kitty.”

Grimmjow’s gaze darkened, though the child didn’t let this affect her good mood. He glanced over at Tousen sitting on the bench. Was that faint smile on the man’s face a moment ago? “Look, kid,” the arrancar said as he turned his eyes back down at her, “I’m not a cat. My release form is a panther. That’s a lot different than some housecat.”

Yachiru gazed up at him, excited. “Oh! Let me see!”

Grimmjow growled, which earned an expression of disapproval from Tousen. “Fine,” he told the pink-haired girl. The last thing he needed today in the mood he was in was to have Tousen on his ass. Since when was it his job to entertain a kid? Oh, that’s right. If that kid is also a shinigami.

Sighing, the arrancar transformed into his release form to Yachiru’s delight. “You are a kitty!” she exclaimed upon seeing him. She bounded around behind him. “You’ve even got a tail!”

Grimmjow twisted, trying to keep her in sight. “Of course I have a- wait, don’t pull it!” he admonished as she jumped up to grasp it. Ignoring his words in favor of fun, Yachiru gave his tail a few good tugs before he could snatch it out of her reach. “That’s enough of that,” he told her as she pouted.

In moments, Yachiru was trying to harass Grimmjow into letting her ride on his back, shining soulful eyes up at him. Grimmjow grumbled as he found himself complying, getting down on all fours. He told himself that this was to avoid a run-in with Tousen when his indulging of her whim probably had more to do with the shinigami that was her apparent keeper. “What am I, a horse or something?” he mumbled as she climbed onto his back.

Yachiru grabbed locks of his long blue hair like reins. “Okay, let’s go!” she exclaimed happily, urging him forward.

The hollow grumbled as he took a lap around the courtyard, muttering to her, “If you tell anybody about this, I’ll eat you. I mean it,” when he was out of earshot of Tousen.

“No you won’t,” she said. “That would make Ken-chan sad.”

“What would I care about that, kid?” Grimmjow snapped.

Instead of pouting or getting angry like the arrancar had thought she would, she just giggled, which annoyed him to no end. What’s with a kid behaving like she knew something he didn’t?

A deep voice calling behind him made Grimmjow freeze. “Do you only let girls ride you, or can anybody get a chance?”

He spun in the direction of Kenpachi’s voice as Yachiru jumped down to pad toward the other shinigami, shouting a greeting. She clambered up to her usual position on his shoulder. Grimmjow glared at him, wanting to wipe the crooked grin Zaraki was wearing off of his face.

“You look good like that,” Kenpachi told him, referring to him crouching on all fours. “Makes me want to give you a saucer of milk.”

Grimmjow snarled before standing and dropping his release form. “I hate milk.”

“Maybe it depends on what kind of milk it is.” Kenpachi leered at the hollow who quickly became incensed.

“Really?” Yachiru asked, looking down at the man from her perch. “How many kinds of milk are there?”

“That’s not something you need to know,” he told her, which made her pout and complain about him not explaining things to her.

Grimmjow glared at him. Though the man always managed to say something infuriating, there was only so far the hollow could go with his backtalk. The man was a shinigami, and he’d learned the hard way how much it annoyed Aizen when arrancar didn’t obey them. He was startled out of his reverie by a large hand clasping his shoulder.

Kenpachi looked down at him. “Can’t play with you right now even though I want to. I’ve got some things to report to Aizen. I’ll catch you later,” the shinigami told him casually before turning to follow Tousen inside. Yachiru turned to wave to him as they headed away.

Grimmjow stared after them, annoyed. He rubbed absently at the shoulder Zaraki had touched. The shinigami had nerve acting so familiar toward him. As if the arrancar wanted to meet up with him later. Grimmjow’s brows furrowed at the warmth that blossomed in his gut at what might occur if they did.

*****************************************

A few hours later, Grimmjow was walking through the hallways of their stronghold. He headed back toward his quarters. Closing the door behind him, he was startled by a voice nearby that said, “It took you long enough to make it back here.” Recovering from his surprise, Grimmjow turned to gaze up into Kenpachi’s amused face as he loomed over him.

The hollow was far from pleased. “What the hell do you think you’re doing in here?”

Kenpachi raised a bottle of what appeared to be sake. “I brought some good stuff back from the other side,” the shinigami explained. “Figured I’d share it.”

Grimmjow watched as Kenpachi sat on his bed, pouring the clear liquid into two sake cups sitting on the nearby side table. He’d commandeered them earlier from a shelf on the wall. Nice that the guy was making himself at home in his room, the hollow thought.

“I thought you’d have better people to get drunk with,” Grimmjow remarked as he took a seat near the shinigami, taking the proffered cup. If the shinigami insisted on staying to bother him, he wasn’t going to pass up a drink.

“It’s not like I can drink with Yachiru,” Kenpachi told him, taking a sip of alcohol.

“What about the other shinigami?” the hollow asked before taking a sip. It was good stuff.

Kenpachi watched the hollow drain the cup, refilling it for him when he took it down from his lips. “Those guys are a little too serious for me most of the time,” he explained, adding, “Tousen’s got some issues with me, too.” The sly grin on the shinigami’s face indicated his amusement on the subject.

Grimmjow couldn’t help but smirk. If Kenpachi’s presence irked the other shinigami, then having him around was worth it. The parts of him controlled by baser instincts insisted that this wasn’t the only benefit. Grimmjow frowned. It had to be the liquor talking.

Kenpachi eyed him for a moment, watching the hollow’s throat work as he swallowed the sake. “So, did you miss me while I was gone?”

Grimmjow snorted into his drink, taking another swallow before saying, “Who’d miss you?”

“Aw, you’re so cruel, hollow,” Kenpachi said with mock hurt, “and after we got off to such a good start, too.” A large hand was placed on Grimmjow’s thigh.

The hollow placed a hand onto the shinigami’s, intending to shove at it but letting it linger a few moments before doing so. “I should have known you were just trying to ply me with sake.”

“Don’t be like that,” Kenpachi said in a low voice, moving closer. “Didn’t we have fun yesterday?” The hand returned to his thigh, sliding up toward his groin.

“You had fun yesterday,” Grimmjow insisted. Parts of him tried to rise in protest.

“Still trying to play hard to get, huh?” the shinigami remarked, amused. He slid a hand across the hollow’s belly, stroking back and forth over the rim of the hole in his abdomen, a sensation he knew the arrancar had a weakness for.

“Hey, what-” Grimmjow tried to protest even as he shivered from the touch, but soon found lips sealing themselves to his, muffling his words. Kenpachi deepened the kiss, a tongue plunging past his lips when he tried to gasp. Grimmjow planted a hand on Kenpachi’s shoulder, fully intending to push him away, but it lingered there, bunching in white fabric. A niggling voice in the back of the hollow’s mind insisted that this wasn’t such a big deal. With blood rushing to other places besides his brain because of Zaraki’s massaging hand, Grimmjow was inclined to agree. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that it was a guy if he could feel like this.

It wasn’t long before Grimmjow was on his back and Kenpachi was looming over him, tracing the dips and curves of the muscles of his chest and belly with his tongue. He circled the rim of the aperture in the hollow’s abdomen, making Grimmjow shudder. The arrancar gasped when he felt tugging at his hakama, the shinigami pushing it out of the way to expose his erection. With little preamble, Kenpachi surrounded it with a stroking fist before drawing it into his mouth. The hollow gasped, groaning at the sensation of suddenly being surrounded by warm suction. And the shinigami was far from an amateur at the act. He knew exactly how to use his lips and tongue to the arrancar’s delight.

Grimmjow clawed at the sheets, bunching them up in his hands as he shifted against the bed. His hips began to move almost with a mind of their own, pushing upward with short rutting strokes. The hollow’s behavior earned a grin from Kenpachi before he took him more deeply.

After a few moments, Kenpachi let Grimmjow’s erection slip wetly from his lips, fisting it almost roughly in one hand as he sucked two fingers into his mouth, moistening the digits. Removing them, he slid his dampened fingers along Grimmjow’s crevice. The hollow gasped, but whatever protest he was going to make died on his lips as Kenpachi engulfed his erection once more, treating it with more enthusiasm than he had previously.

Even though there was something unnerving about the shinigami touching him so intimately, Grimmjow had to reluctantly admit that the feeling was pleasurable in ways he hadn’t thought it would be. The way the other man stroked across his entrance with a thick finger, applying pressure as he circled the ring of muscle was almost maddening. This sensation coupled with the warm suction the shinigami treated him to made the hollow moan almost continuously.

The shinigami’s talented mouth had Grimmjow crying out moments later, a string of curses spilling from his lips as he emptied into Kenpachi’s waiting throat. The shinigami slid down to the base of the writhing arrancar’s erection, swallowing around him. Kenpachi pulled back, gazing at the panting arrancar as he licked the traces of Grimmjow’s essence from his lips.

As Grimmjow lay on his back recovering, he was met with the sight of Kenpachi stroking his own erection in a loose fist as he sat on the bed, a hungry look on his face. Kenpachi eyed the hollow with interest as he moved to sit up.

“You’re not going to just leave me like this, are you?” Kenpachi asked him in a teasing voice. When he saw the shock on the hollow’s face, he sighed, adding, “I should have known that a hollow would be selfish.”

Frowning, Grimmjow glared at the man before his eyes trailed down to the sight of his ample erection jutting out from dark curls. It wasn’t as though Grimmjow wanted to reciprocate. The shinigami had seemed to enjoy performing the act, but the hollow doubted that he would. The thing was, if he didn’t reciprocate now, the man might never perform it on him again. And Kenpachi was very talented at it. So talented, in fact, that Grimmjow found himself shifting toward him, albeit a little reluctantly, just to keep the prospect of feeling Kenpachi’s mouth on him again open.

Kenpachi watched as Grimmjow shifted to move beside him before reaching down to surround his erection with his fingers. The shinigami watched the hollow gaze at his stiff member as though it was an enemy to be defeated. He chuckled, his voice a deep rumble. “Heh. The way you’re looking at it, you’d think it had teeth or something.”

Grimmjow raised his eyes to glare at the man. “It’s not like I’ve ever done this before, so if you want me to do it, zip it.”

Kenpachi had to suppress a grin at the look on the annoyed hollow’s face. “Alright, alright.” He gazed eagerly at the man hovering over his groin, barely able to restrain himself from reaching out to guide the hollow downward. He couldn’t wait to see the other man take his member past those lips of his.

Finally leaning over, Grimmjow drew the crown of the shinigami’s member past his lips, suckling on it tentatively. Kenpachi moaned softly at the sensation. The hollow was unskilled, but Kenpachi intended to give him a good deal of practice in the coming days. He watched as the arrancar took him deeper, his blue eyes at half mast as he worked. Kenpachi lowered a hand to comb through pale blue locks before sliding it down to grasp the hollow’s shoulder.

Grimmjow faltered in his movements when he felt Kenpachi place a hand on his head, half expecting the shinigami to push him downward beyond what he could bring himself to take. But he found that the hand merely massaged his scalp pleasingly before slipping down to rest on his shoulder, squeezing encouragingly. The sound of Kenpachi’s soft groans and murmured encouragements caused Grimmjow’s spent member to twitch.

It had been far too long since Kenpachi had been given such treatment. It was all he could do to keep from pushing up into the moist warmth of the hollow’s mouth. As the moments wore on, Grimmjow’s movements became surer. Even though the hollow couldn’t take him that far into his mouth, the shinigami found that he didn’t mind, especially since the fingers wrapped around the base of his cock stroked lightly. Lost in sensation, Kenpachi forgot to warn the inexperienced hollow of his impending orgasm. With a drawn out moan, the shinigami spilled into the hollow’s mouth. Surprised, Grimmjow swallowed reflexively before pulling away to cough, Kenpachi’s essence staining his lips and droplets spattering his bare chest.

Kenpachi gazed at the coughing arrancar somewhat remorsefully. “Sorry. You okay?”

Grimmjow glared at him until he was able to speak when the spasm of coughing ended, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “The hell! Why didn’t you warn me before you came in my mouth?”

The shinigami gave him a sheepish look as he scratched his head absently. “Well, you made me forget with that mouth of yours. You’re a natural at it, you know.”

The hollow gave him a dark look. “Eh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kenpachi rolled his eyes. “It was supposed to be a compliment. You were really good for an amateur.”

Grimmjow looked away, his face flushing. “Don’t expect a repeat performance, especially after what happened.”

Instead of being annoyed like the arrancar expected, Zaraki was mildly amused. “Don’t sulk. You’re going to make me nibble on that pouty lower lip of yours.”

Grimmjow’s brows furrowed as he turned back toward the shinigami. “I don’t sulk,” he insisted. The rest of what he was going to add was muffled by the press of the shinigami’s lips to his. The hollow gasped, Kenpachi taking advantage and deepening the kiss. He loved the taste of himself on the hollow’s tongue. It made him moan into Grimmjow’s mouth, a low rumble that made the hairs on the back of the arrancar’s neck stand up. Kenpachi raised a hand to cup the back of the other man’s head, fingers pulling at the short hair at the base of his neck. Grimmjow shivered as he was drawn into returning the kiss, letting out a small moan of his own as Kenpachi suckled his lower lip, nibbling on it.

The hollow tipped his head back to allow better access as the shinigami took up nibbling on the column of his throat. Zaraki grinned against his warm skin. The other man was warming up to him again if the way he clawed at the cloth of his shoulder was any indication. Kenpachi let a hand trail down Grimmjow’s back until it cupped his rear, squeezing lightly and earning a small moan from the arrancar. With a little coaxing, Kenpachi figured he could probably get the hollow to want to go further. The image of Grimmjow on his back naked, giving him a hungry look as he spread his legs rose to mind. But Kenpachi hadn’t brought anything suitable for lubrication, as he had been unsure of how well the arrancar would take his offered attentions. So anything more would have to wait until later.

When Zaraki pulled away, breaking the kiss, Grimmjow gazed up at him, chest heaving. When the shinigami suggested that they should stop, the hollow felt disappointed. But why, exactly? The remembered sensation of the man stroking across his entrance made Grimmjow shiver along with the memory of his dream, thickness pushing inside of him. There was no way that he could really want something like that. Blowjobs were pleasurable, but something like what he imagined the other man wanted to do at some point couldn’t be. Then why did his mind keep coming back to it?

Realizing that the man was waiting for some kind of response, Grimmjow flushed, saying, “Yeah, sure,” as he pulled up his hakama.

Kenpachi leaned over to throw an arm around him. “Heh, sorry to disappoint you. Next time, I’ll be sure to bring the right stuff.”

“Who said there was going to be a next time?” Grimmjow found himself grumbling, “Or that I wanted to do that?” Never mind that he possibly did, but the shinigami being so confident about feelings he himself was unsure of ticked him off.

Zaraki’s grin widened, watching the hollow grasp the bottle of sake and drink from it. There he went, thinking too much about things again. He couldn’t wait to get the spirited arrancar where he wanted him. For all his joking about Grimmjow being an overgrown cat, Zaraki wanted him wild, the arrancar giving a feral growl as he clawed at his back, bucking against him. A sly look passed over Kenpachi’s face. He knew just the thing.

TBC

(FIC) Kindred

2008-02-12T21:06:50Z

Title: Kindred
Author: Eumenides
Pairing: Kenpachi/Grimmjow
Rating: NC-17
Summary: AU yaoi fic. Grimmjow draws the attention of one of the new members to join their inner circle in Hueco Mundo.

Part One

Grimmjow sat at the table sullenly, eying the two new figures that had joined those seated at the table. His eyes narrowed. Not one but two shinigami had come over to Aizen’s side. More people he’d have to force himself to bow to. One of them even appeared to be a child.

“My friends,” Aizen started loftily, “As you can see, two more have joined our ranks, and I hope that you will welcome them, the former captain and vice captain of the 11th division of Soul Society, Kenpachi Zaraki and Yachiru Kusajishi.”

As everyone at the table made their introductions to the pair, Grimmjow eyed the large shinigami who was much different than the ones he usually had to deal with. He wore a wide grin on his face that made him appear almost demented. The man’s chosen hairstyle only added to the overall effect, which may have even been the point of it. It was strange how such a rough guy had a little pink-haired girl as a companion, even carrying her on his shoulder. How’d a kid become a vice-captain in Soul Society anyway?

Speaking of the little girl, she seemed to be paying more attention to the Octava Espada who sat across from her and the large man she was seated on, than to what Aizen was droning on about. The scientist was pointedly ignoring her scrutiny of him.

“Hey!” the girl said suddenly to Szayel with wonder in her voice, interrupting Aizen. “You’re almost as pretty as Yumichika!”

Nnoitra stifled a laugh and Grimmjow couldn’t help but smirk at the offended look on the Octava Espada’s face.

“I suppose that was meant as some sort of compliment,” Szayel remarked with annoyance as he adjusted his glasses.

“Szayel,” Aizen started, gazing in the arrancar’s direction. “How are those experiments that we talked about coming?”

“They are proceeding on schedule, Aizen-sama,” the arrancar said with deference. ”I should have some results for you tomorrow at the latest.”

“Experiments?” Yachiru chimed in before something dawned on her. “Oh! You’re a scientist!”

“Yes, I am,” Szayel answered.

“Then you can make all kinds of things, right?” There was a hopeful note to the girl’s voice.

“Of course,” Szayel told her in a tone of voice that said this fact should be obvious.

Yachiru leaned forward from where she was perched on Kenpachi’s shoulder. “So, you can make candy, then, right?”

“I-what?”

“I don’t mean like the stuff Ken-chan brought with us. Something different, like bubble gum flavored chocolate?”

Szayel gave her a suffering look. Aizen grinned against the hand his cheek was pressed to. The scientist frowned. “My expertise is hardly meant to be wasted on something as mundane as creating confections for children.”

Yachiru leaned forward even more, an eager look on her face. “But you can make it, right?”

Szayel scoffed. “Of course I can make it, child. It’s not as though it would be any difficulty for me if I was so inclined as to-”

“Yay!” Yachiru interrupted excitedly. “Ken-chan, Szayel-chan is going to make me all sorts of candies!”

“What?! I never said I’d-”

“Make sure you don’t eat too much,” Kenpachi swiveled his head slightly to tell her, ignoring the hollow’s protests. “Too much makes you hyper.”

Amused, Aizen continued, addressing the hollows. “This particular meeting has concluded. However, there is a matter that I must discuss with the former captains,” he said, catching the eyes of his fellow shinigami.

The arrancar began to rise from their seats. Kenpachi turned to Yachiru. “This is meeting’s just for us, so go play with someone.” He eyed Szayel, who’d begun to leave. “Like that pink-haired guy.”

Szayel spun to face the shinigami, surprised and offended. “I’m a scientist, not a babysitter! I have delicate experiments that I-”

Szayel found himself ignored once more as Zaraki instructed Yachiru, “Play nicely and don’t destroy anything, okay?”

“Okay!” she shouted happily as she hopped down from his shoulder.

“’Destroy?’” Szayel echoed nervously, thinking of his experiments and all the delicate equipment in his lab. “Aizen-sama!” he protested as he turned to the shinigami, hoping the man would agree that his talents were better spent elsewhere.

“Szayel Aporro,” Aizen started, “I’m sure you can show the former vice-captain a little hospitality this once, right?” That amused expression was still there.

Deflated, Szayel couldn’t help but answer, “Of course, Aizen-sama.” He cut an eye in the girl’s direction, motioning to her before turning away again. “Come, child.” He managed to keep most of the venom out of his voice.

“Szaaaa-yeeel-chaaan!” Yachiru exclaimed as she bounded forward. Szayel suddenly felt her small body impact his back with a good deal of force as she pounced on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Szayel asked, annoyed.

“Huh? The others always let me ride this way.”

The scientist sighed. “Fine, let’s just go.” The dejected hollow exited to head toward his lab, ignoring her attempts to steer him in the wrong direction.

Feeling as though he was being watched as he left through the large doors, Grimmjow paused, turning to see Zaraki gazing at him, that fierce grin in place. He had the distinct impression that he was being sized up as the double doors closed, leaving the shinigami to their meeting.

************************************

Midday found Grimmjow practicing his swordsmanship under the artificial blue sky. He sliced effortlessly through a large rocky structure before him. He paused when he heard footsteps upon the ground. “You seem pretty good at cutting up rocks,” a rough voice remarked. “I wonder how well you do with actual opponents.” Grimmjow turned, gazing at an approaching Zaraki through narrowed eyes.

“I do pretty well,” Grimmjow told him. “Most of them are dead.”

The grin on Kenpachi’s face widened. “I notice you said ‘most,’ not ‘all.’” He watched the hollow’s darkening expression for a moment before adding, “Even so, you seem like a pretty strong guy.” The grin plastered on Zaraki’s face put Grimmjow on edge. “Why don’t you try fighting me instead of that bunch of rocks?”

“Eh?” Grimmjow asked, turning fully toward the man, eying him warily. None of the other shinigami in Hueco Mundo seemed to want to be in the presence of an arrancar longer than it took to bark orders, let alone spar.

“You heard me,” Kenpachi said, his voice insistent. “Fight me. The other guys seem so boring. Fighting you would be fun. “The shinigami’s voice was full of eagerness. “I can see it in your eyes, the hunger for a good battle.”

“Yeah, right,” Grimmjow said, folding his arms. “If I hurt you, Aizen’ll be all over me.”

“Heh. You think too much of yourself if you think you can really harm me. Don’t be skittish. I promised Aizen I’d try not to kill anybody here in a match, so it’s fine.”

“I’m not some run-of-the-mill hollow. I’m an Espada. Don’t think you can beat me so easily, shinigami.” Grimmjow pulled his sword from his belt.

Kenpachi grinned widely. “That’s what I’m talking about. Show me what you’ve got, hollow!” The shinigami drew his own blade, moving into a ready position.

The two men ran to meet each other under the blue sky, the sounds of their swords clashing filling the air. Kenpachi found the hollow to be stronger than he’d thought he would be at first, which was a pleasant surprise. The arrancar managed to land a few well-placed blows and was able to take quite a few in stride.

“Alright!” Zaraki exclaimed happily, wiping at the blood that dripped into his eye. “You’re a strong one for a number six. I’ve got to take this off to handle you properly!” The large shinigami reached up to remove his eye patch.

Grimmjow gaped at the man. “Huh? I thought you only had one eye?” He gasped, stiffening as the spiritual pressure in the area thickened.

“Nah,” Kenpachi said, pocketing it. “I release my energy all the time, so they made that for me to sap some of it, or else I overpower opponents too easily.” A crooked smile split his face. “What would be the fun in that? Some things are only good if they last awhile.” There was a note to the man’s voice that told Grimmjow that he wasn’t only referring to fighting.

The arrancar smirked, moving into a ready position again. “Enough talk. Bring it.”

The two men continued their battle, Grimmjow soon finding himself on the losing end. The shinigami’s power was just too massive. It was also eerie how the shinigami was still smiling after being struck so many times, blood trickling from his wounds. He seemed to truly enjoy fighting, not minding the pain. Or perhaps he enjoyed it after a fashion.

“Not bad, hollow,” Kenpachi remarked, pleased that the other man was able to remain standing after his attacks. “But you’re starting to get boring. This can’t be all that you’ve got.”

Grimmjow growled, affronted by the implication. Screw Aizen. If this shinigami died, he died. He was asking for it anyway and had long since pissed him off. The arrancar sneered, shouting, “Grind, Pantera!” releasing his true form.

Kenpachi canted his head to one side, an amused expression on his face as he watched the arrancar transform. “I thought you were going to turn into some kind of monster, but you’re just a big cat. After I beat you, I’ll get you to curl up at my feet.”

Grimmjow hissed, rushing forward, claws out. “Don’t underestimate me, you bastard!”

Kenpachi gazed at the approaching arrancar with wild, excited eyes. “Ha ha! Yeah, that’s it! Come at me like you mean it!” He ran forward eagerly to meet the growling hollow.

A short time later, Grimmjow found himself collapsing painfully on his back, spent and bloodied. “Shit, you’re strong,” he remarked as he heard the shinigami approach where he’d been thrown.

Zaraki slung his sword over his shoulder, ignoring the pain of his wounds for now as he loomed over the hollow. “Well, you’ve got the laying at my feet part right. I guess you’re too injured to curl up, huh?”

“Screw you,” Grimmjow said, panting, lacking the energy to make his words venomous enough.

Kenpachi only laughed, watching as the arrancar gained his footing. He wore a lopsided grin exposing his teeth. “You’re welcome to try, hollow, but you’ve got to get stronger than that to be able to.”

With that, he turned away, leaving Grimmjow to trail a distance behind him, a strangely warm feeling in his gut. Unlike most shinigami, the man seemed to rely on sheer brute strength instead of fancy skills. There was something animalistic about the man, something that appealed to Grimmjow on some level more than it probably should. The hollow shook his head as if to clear it. It wasn’t as though he had weird tastes or anything. The stirring in his torn hakama seemed to make a liar out of him.

************************************

His body still aching from the sparring match earlier despite having healed his wounds, Grimmjow decided to visit the baths. Walking inside, he was met with the sight of Zaraki sitting with his back to him as he bathed, his usually spiked hair hanging wetly down around his shoulders. The arrancar tried to ignore the way the soapy water glistened on the man’s muscled body as he cleansed himself. Grimmjow found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of lather sliding down the shinigami’s back before Zaraki turned to regard him.

Kenpachi grinned when he noticed who it was, turning further toward him in the water. “Done licking your wounds, eh?”

Grimmjow let out a low growl before he turned to go. “Leaving already?” Kenpachi asked from behind him. “There’s plenty of room.” He let out a chuckle. “Don’t tell me you’re shy about letting other guys see what you’ve got. Well, you didn’t seem like you had much in that release form of yours, so I guess I can understand.”

Before Kenpachi could finish speaking, an angry Grimmjow stalked forward, tearing off his towel. Climbing into the bath, he made sure the other occupant could see him before sinking into the water. “As you can see, I’ve got nothing to be shy about.” Grimmjow grasped a sponge and soap stiffly.

That grin was back on the shinigami’s face as he watched the hollow’s movements. “So it seems.”

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Grimmjow asked, glancing at him. He pointedly didn’t look below the surface of the water. “This is the one the arrancar usually use.”

“Hmph, I didn’t see a ‘hollows only’ sign, and this one was closer. A bath is a bath.”

After a few moments, of surreptitiously regarding the shinigami across from him as he washed, Grimmjow asked, “What made you come to Aizen’s side, anyway? Most of you guys fight tooth and nail against hollows. I didn’t think that there would be many that would go along with him, no matter what he was offering.”

Kenpachi looked over at the espada. “I want to become stronger, simple as that. I can’t do that in Soul Society, but here I can.”

“What about the kid?” Grimmjow asked, curious.

“We’ve been together for years. She’ll go just about anywhere I do.” Kenpachi cast his eyes downward toward the water, absently watching suds float on the surface. “At first I wasn’t sure if she would come. But she told me she’d promised to stay by my side, so she did.”

Grimmjow gazed at him. “Would you have come if she hadn’t wanted to?”

Kenpachi scratched his head in thought. “Ah, I don’t know. It would have been hard to. She can get on my nerves sometimes, but I can’t really imagine a place where she’s not around. I was a wandering warrior fighting just to live when I met her. Having her with me made me want something besides just existing. That time before I met her seems like a dream sometimes.”

The arrancar gazed at him in thought. “You’re not like other shinigami that I’ve met. Except for you and that kid, they all seem so uptight.”

Zaraki laughed. “Yeah, I’m a crude guy. Most of the captains looked down on me because of it, not like I cared. Most of them thought they were better than me.”

“Eh? Why?”

“I became captain by force, not like the others. I defeated the previous captain of the 11th.”

“What happened to him?”

Kenpachi grinned wickedly. “He’s dead. He wasn’t a weak guy, but I was stronger.”

Grimmjow raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know you guys killed each other like that.” He chucked. “You guys aren’t so different than us, then.”

“Killing, dying, it’s all the same to me as long as I get to fight, as long as I can become stronger.” There was a wistful note to Kenpachi’s voice.

In a few moments, Grimmjow found intense eyes on him again. They glittered with something that Grimmjow couldn’t quite place. “Hey, if you turn around, I’ll wash your back for you,” Kenpachi offered.

Grimmjow eyed him a little warily. It wasn’t such a strange thing to offer. Figuring that he was just being paranoid, he did as the shinigami asked, moving nearer before turning away from the larger man. Kenpachi lathered a sponge, soaping Grimmjow’s back with it.

Grimmjow couldn’t keep his eyes from closing as Kenpachi cleaned him with almost caressing strokes. There was something oddly soothing about the motion. Soon, the larger man pulled him a little closer, sliding his arm around his body to begin soaping Grimmjow’s front. The sponge stroked across the arrancar’s broad chest, making his nipples harden. At some point, the sponge was abandoned in the water for just the bare hands that Kenpachi used to stroke sudsy water across his midsection. Grimmjow startled as Kenpachi began to caress the skin above the hole in his abdomen, making him shiver. Planting his hands on Kenpachi’s muscular thighs, the arrancar tried to push away, but Kenpachi pulled him close with an arm around his chest. Grimmjow could feel the shinigami’s warm breath on his neck, making him unable to suppress a shudder.

“What the hell are you doing?” Grimmjow growled as he struggled in the shinigami’s arms, splashing. It unnerved him that being unable to get away from the larger man was oddly arousing on some level.

Kenpachi laughed, his breath warm on Grimmjow’s neck and ear. “Come on, hollow. What does it look like?”

“Don’t mess with me! I don’t swing that way.”

“What does it matter as long as it feels good?” Kenpachi insisted, his voice a low rumble. “You were enjoying it before you started thinking about it too hard.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Then what’s this, then?” Kenpachi asked him, one hand slipping down to brush against Grimmjow’s growing erection.

“It doesn’t mean anything! It doesn’t mean that I’m a-”

“All it means is that you like it,” Kenpachi told him. He began to stroke Grimmjow’s length in a loose fist, making the hollow stiffen. “People like what feels good. Hollows aren’t any different than shinigami in that.” Kenpachi smirked as he heard Grimmjow try to suppress a groan, and felt him dig blunt fingernails into his thighs as he shuddered. “Maybe it’s even more so with hollows. You guys are just bundles of want aren’t you? Just listen to your instincts and let go.”

The arrancar groaned. He could feel the shinigami’s raw power washing through him and over him, making his limbs feel weak. Or maybe it was the way Kenpachi stroked him expertly from base to tip with a deft hand, his thumb sweeping over the crown to caress the slit before descending again. Grimmjow found himself allowing the shinigami to pull him back flush against his chest with his other arm before it moved to fondle an erect nipple. The hand then descended to caress the rim of the hole in Grimmjow’s abdomen, making the hollow arch against him.

Grimmjow was awash with sensation, the pulse of the shinigami’s spiritual power, his stroking hands, his teeth nibbling on his ear. He hissed, unable to keep from pushing up into the circle of Kenpachi’s stroking fingers as he bit his lip. On each backstroke of his hips, he rubbed against Zaraki’s stiffening erection, making the shinigami growl close to his ear. The sound made shivers run up and down Grimmjow’s spine. He turned his face up and away, exposing his throat. Kenpachi smirked, laving the exposed skin with his tongue before nibbling on it.

Kenpachi snuck his other hand down to fondle the hollow’s hanging sacs, massaging them in his large hand. Grimmjow cursed, shifting against the shinigami. The motion of his hips sped up to Kenpachi’s delight. The shinigami pulled him closer to get more of that delicious friction. Grimmjow began to arch against him, cursing and moving against the other man erratically. It wasn’t long before Grimmjow came, keening through gritted teeth as he spilled into the warm water. The arrancar collapsed back against Zaraki, trying to catch his breath as the man milked him dry with his hand.

Releasing the hollow’s spent member, Kenpachi planted his hands on Grimmjow’s hips, holding them in place as he thrust against his backside, his erection nestled between the hollow’s taut cheeks. It didn’t take long for the shinigami to bring himself off this way as excited as he was, spilling his essence over Grimmjow’s lower back with a satisfied groan. Zaraki washed the creamy substance away with the warm water.

When Grimmjow recovered, he found himself feeling ill at ease about what he’d just allowed to occur. His back rigid, he started to move away from the shinigami who let the hand that he’d been resting on the arrancar’s thigh trail across his hip and back, sliding it along the hollow’s cleft and finding his entrance by feel. The arrancar shivered at the strangely pleasant sensation before abruptly pulling away.

He turned angrily to face Zaraki who wore far too satisfied a look for Grimmjow’s comfort. “Letting you rub me off is one thing, but letting you put anything even near there is a different story.”

Kenpachi smirked, a knowing look in his eye. “You say that now, but I bet you’d like it.” He moved forward in the water toward the arrancar, an eager look on his face. What they’d done had only whet his appetite. “I could make you scream, you know.”

“I bet, in pain. I can’t imagine anybody enjoying that.”

Kenpachi smirked. “There’s lots of ways I can make a guy scream, but if I’m doing that, there’s only one reason for it.”

“I’ll pass,” Grimmjow told him, stepping out of the water. He ignored the way his member twitched at the images Kenpachi’s words had conjured in his mind. He frowned. His body was behaving strangely because it had been far too long since he’d gotten release with someone. That was all there was to it. What had happened didn’t really mean anything other than that.

Kenpachi gazed at the wet hollow, leaning against the tiles on his elbows. The smaller man had a great ass. He was going to end up dreaming about being inside of that. “Suit yourself,” the shinigami told him. Kenpachi grinned to himself as he watched the hollow dry off with brisk strokes in his annoyance. He hated waiting, but he could be patient when he wanted to be.

TBC

fanfic50: Fascination

2008-02-12T21:02:39Z

Title: Fascination
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Szayel, Ishida
Prompt: 033 - Investigate
Word Count: 675
Rating: PG
Summary: Ishida in Szayel’s lab.
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach. I just play with the characters.

Dizziness overtaking him, Ishida groaned at the churning in his gut as he approached wakefulness. His vision blurred, he tried to squint at a light being shined into each of his eyes as his lids were lifted in turn. The hand lifted away as Ishida turned his head groggily. His senses returning to him, Uryuu startled as he realized that he couldn’t move his hands from his sides. It dawned on him that he was on a flat surface that was thinly cushioned, his body held fast by encircling bonds on his wrists, legs, and torso. Horrified, he still struggled though he knew that this would be a fruitless effort. Looking around the room only added to his horror as he realized that he was in some sort of lab. Though the surroundings were slightly blurred from his lack of glasses, Uryuu could make out equipment on various tables and unidentifiable substances in jars along a nearby wall.

His roving eyes fixed on a figure dressed in white leaning over a nearby counter, a gloved hand jotting notes onto a journal, pink hair partly obscuring the man’s face. The arrancar turned to regard him, a smile slowly spreading over his face. “I see you’re fully awake now, Quincy.”

Ishida eyed Szayel warily as he glided toward him, the figure gaining in clarity the nearer he approached. “What happened? Why am I here?”

The arrancar canted his head as he gazed down at him, that faint smile still in place. “The ‘why’ should be obvious, shouldn’t it? I’m not quite finished with you yet. You are the last of your kind and there are so many things that I have yet to learn about you.” Szayel’s gaze turned amused as he noted how his words caused the teen to jerk against his bindings. “That’s quite useless, you know,” Szayel stated. “Struggling, that is.”

Ishida watched the arrancar return to the nearby counter, his back to him as he continued to speak, hands moving to grasp at objects concealed from Uryuu’s view. “I must tell you how excited I am to have you here, Quincy.” Uryuu’s eyes widened as Szayel turned slightly as he raised his arms, causing him to catch sight of a needle piercing an upturned bottle of amber liquid, the fluid siphoned out into the waiting reservoir. “To be able to capture you alive was more than I’d hoped.” Ishida watched as the man set the bottle down onto the countertop, the hand returning to tap at the syringe before the plunger was pressed upwards. A small amount of amber liquid arced from the tip, glinting in the overhead light as the espada turned toward him.

Szayel smirked at the way the sight of him approaching with the syringe made the teen struggle in earnest, instinct overruling reason. He paused before the examination table, placing a gloved hand on the teen’s heaving chest. He slid the hand upward to free the clothing around Uryuu’s neck.

“I can almost smell the fear on you,” the arrancar told him in a low voice as he stroked the skin of his throat with a gloved hand. “I guess you’re no different than most humans in that.”

The hand on Ishida’s neck moved to grasp his chin, turning his head firmly to one side. Uryuu struggled in vain against the espada’s vise-like grip. He could feel the brush of long hair against his skin as the arrancar loomed close. Szayel’s breath warmed his ear as he spoke into it. “Don’t worry. You’ll be of use to me for quite a long time.” Ishida felt the prick of the needle against his neck, the pain of it increasing as it slid forward, the contents emptying into his bloodstream. “I’ll take my time with you, Quincy.” Szayel murmured.

His vision blurring as his head began to spin, Ishida blinked his eyes languidly, his limbs feeling light. Distantly, he felt a hand trail across his chest. Distantly he heard a voice full of eagerness wonder aloud about where to start.

End

(FIC) Playing Dress Up

2008-02-12T21:00:49Z

Title: Playing Dress Up
Author: Eumenides
Fandom: Descendents of Darkness
Characters: Muraki & Hisoka
Prompt: 2 - Cross-Dressing
Word Count: 1,415
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. Only the depravity does.
Author’s Notes: For 50kinkyways. Sequel to Caught in the Spider’s Web Muraki has fun at Hisoka’s expense.

Standing in front of the couch in a skimpy outfit, Hisoka’s face burned. Especially with the way Muraki was eying him as he sat on the sofa, legs crossed, a wineglass held in an elegant hand.

“My, my,” the doctor remarked as he sipped his drink, “You look lovelier than I thought you would. The clothing suits your feminine features.”

Angered, Hisoka stomped a high heeled foot. “Like you should talk about looking effeminate!” The only response he got from Muraki was an amused chuckle.

This was the second meeting in the arrangement that the guardian of death had made with the deranged doctor. Hisoka thought that things couldn’t get much worse after their first encounter the week before. But that was before he’d come to Muraki’s home and had the man thrust a skimpy black French maid’s uniform at him, urging him to put it on. The skirt barely hid the silky black underwear that he had been forced to wear. The white thigh high nylons felt strange against his skin, and Hisoka could hardly walk in the high heeled pumps that he’d donned earlier.

Muraki regarded the youthful guardian from his seat on the sofa. For all of Hisoka’s protestations to the contrary, he still behaved much like a spoiled child. On a whim, the man had decided to purchase the outfit for Hisoka, and in seeing it on his young form, Muraki couldn’t have been more pleased. He looked just like one of the dolls that the surgeon had sitting on a shelf in his study. Because that’s what the guardian was to Muraki, a toy for him to use as he saw fit. He’d only agreed to the young man’s self sacrificing arrangement because he sensed that there was still amusement to be found with his previously discarded plaything. The doctor hadn’t given up on his obsession with Hisoka’s violet eyed partner yet.

“Hmm. I have no problems with looking the way that I do. Nor have any of my previous lovers,” the doctor found himself replying.

Hisoka scoffed at the doctor’s words. “You mean people that you didn’t have to rape?”

The guardian of death expected the man to be incensed by this jab. He knew that it was petty, to want to hurt the doctor in such a small way, but he couldn’t prevent it. Hisoka was both surprised and disturbed to see a wide grin spread across the other man’s face.

“Oh, dear Hisoka, you misunderstand my actions entirely. It’s not that I can’t find willing partners. It’s that imposing my will upon someone else is half of the excitement!”

“You are sick!” Hisoka sneered.

“Most of the ones that I take just try to get through the ordeal. But then there are people like you, Hisoka. People who start to yearn for what I give them, even in the moment of their greatest horror. You’re standing here before me,” Muraki said as he gestured with a graceful hand, “waiting for my orders, waiting for me to debauch you again even as you hate me for what I’ve done to you.”

Muraki rose from the couch, striding quickly over to Hisoka, gripping his chin with a strong hand and forcing the young man’s face up to meet his eyes as he glared down at him. “You are the one who has placed yourself within my hands, knowing full well the kind of man that I am. Who is the truly sick one here, Hisoka?”

Shivering in anger, more at himself than at anyone else, Hisoka stood, his face burning with shame. He had no words to answer the doctor, and even if he had, he didn’t trust his voice to speak them without wavering. Muraki smiled widely at the defeated look in the guardian’s eyes as he stepped away from him to retake his seat on the couch. Hisoka watched the grinning man relax against the sofa, his teeth glinting in the light from the lamp.

“Come here, Hisoka. This table is rather dusty.”

Gripping the feather duster in his hand so tightly that his knuckles turned white, Hisoka toddled over to the coffee table as steadily as he could in his high heeled shoes. As he leaned down to dust, Muraki shook his head, bidding him to cross to the other side of the table in front of him. Embarrassed, Hisoka did as he was told, giving Muraki a nice view of his underwear when he leaned over in front of the man. Face red, Hisoka dusted the pristine glass table, gazing at his haunted reflection on the surface of it.

Hisoka stiffened as he felt a hand begin to stroke his silken clad bottom, a finger moving inward to stroke his cleft. A hand gripped his buttock firmly as questing digits probed his backside through the cloth. A finger poked bluntly at his entrance, pushing fabric uncomfortably inside as he tried to pull away.

Muraki laughed at the movement. “There’s no getting away, Hisoka. Not if you don’t want Tsuzuki to take your place.” The doctor noted how the guardian visibly wilted at his words. “Now turn around. There’s something of mine that warrants your attention.”

Doing as he was instructed, Hisoka turned around, shrinking in on himself as he noted Muraki’s handsome and smirking face, as well as the erection the man was now sporting, tenting his pants. Hisoka knew what was expected of him, but shuddered at the thought of it. Even that time, years ago, he hadn’t been forced to do this to the surgeon. The notion of the man’s flesh passing his lips made him nauseous.

The surgeon canted his head to the side. “What’s wrong, Hisoka? It’s not as though it’s going to bite you, you know. Get on with it before my good mood turns sour.”

Something about the man’s voice when he spoke the last sentence made Hisoka drop unwillingly to his knees between Muraki’s parted thighs. He stared at the bulge in Muraki’s trousers for a few moments before lifting trembling hands to unbutton them. As he slid the zipper down, the trapped flesh jutted out from within white cotton. Resigning himself to his task, Hisoka pulled back the elastic band at the waist, reaching inside to surround the pale hardening flesh with his fingers, pulling it out into the open air.

Still smiling faintly, Muraki relaxed against the sofa, enjoying how Hisoka’s inexperienced mouth worked his flesh. Eyes cracked open, Kazutaka cast his gaze downward to view the sight of his flesh disappearing into the young man’s suckling mouth. Cupping the back of Hisoka’s head, the doctor pushed him down further onto his erection, ignoring the negating muffled sounds, and the way Hisoka flailed, in response. Muraki couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. It wasn’t as though the guardian of death needed to breathe.

Struggling against the vice-like grip his head was in, Hisoka tried to gasp around the thickness in his throat. Though needing no air, the lack of it was still fairly uncomfortable. Realizing that he had no other choice, Hisoka tried to relax his throat against the invasion. As he did so, Muraki’s grip lessened, but still held him firmly. Initially relieved when the man withdrew, he soon realized that this was only so that the doctor could plunge in deeply again. Hisoka braced himself with hands against the surgeon’s thighs as his throat was used with languid strokes. He listened to the heavy breathing of the man holding his head in both his hands, peering up to see Muraki arching back against the couch as he thrust into his mouth.

Muraki found Hisoka’s mouth absolutely delicious. Sure, he lacked skill, but all things improve with time and practice. Kazutaka would make sure that the guardian of death would get a fair amount of it. He looked forward to tutoring him in the act. But for now, the doctor was content to enjoy the fallen innocence of the young man’s soft and clenching throat.

Hisoka heard Muraki utter a choked groan before the man stiffened, filling his mouth with a bitter fluid. The doctor held him firmly, forcing him to swallow the substance. Hisoka managed to do so without retching.

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, Hisoka muttered, “Are we done?”

“Not yet,” the doctor answered. “There’s still another game that I want to play.”

Thoroughly ashamed, Hisoka bowed his head, dreading whatever plans Muraki had in mind.

End

Caught in the Spider’s Web

2008-02-12T20:58:55Z

Posting an older fic since I'm picking the claim (that I left stagnant ^^;) again:

Title: Caught in the Spider’s Web
Author: Eumenides
Fandom: Descendents of Darkness
Characters: Muraki & Hisoka
Prompt: 6 - Restraints
Word Count: 2,452
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. Only the depravity does.
Author’s Notes: For 50kinkyways. A bargain is struck, and Muraki has his way.

Grey skies opened up, pouring their contents onto the ground below. As pedestrians hurried to seek shelter from the rain shower, a young man stood under the awning of a shop. Hisoka pulled the jacket that he wore tighter around himself, but it was poor protection from the chilling wind.

A car passed in front of the young man, splashing the sidewalk and making him dodge the resulting jet of dirtied water. A blur of white crossing the street caused Hisoka’s attention to turn toward the approaching figure of a tall, pale man. Dressed impeccably as always, Dr. Muraki approached the rain-soaked guardian of death on the sidewalk, shielding the young man with his umbrella as he drew close enough.

“Don’t you look a mess, Hisoka,” the doctor remarked with a smirk. “You could catch your death of cold. If you were still alive, that is.”

“You already saw to that, Muraki,” Hisoka shot back angrily.

“I’m sure that you didn’t ask me here to reminisce about our shared past,” Muraki stated blandly. “I’m rather interested in hearing what it is that you have to say. You mentioned ‘a deal,’ I believe?”

Looking up into cold silver eyes, Hisoka found his earlier confidence failing him. He’d already endured horrid things at the hand of this man, if the doctor could still be called that. But couldn’t he endure them again, if it was for his friend’s sake? “I want you to leave Tsuzuki alone.”

The doctor raised a thin eyebrow. “You do, do you? And what is it that you think will induce me to give up my claim on Mr. Tsuzuki?”

Hisoka took a deep breath. “I offer myself in his place.”

Hisoka’s mildly fearful expression turned to one of anger as he watched the surgeon laugh heartily. “Have you forgotten?” the man asked after his mirth subsided, “I’ve already had my fun with you, boy. No, Mr. Tsuzuki is far more deserving of… my special attention now.”

The guardian of death feared that the man would refuse. He thought of the broken look in Tsizuki’s eyes, the weight of Muraki’s taunts of his culpability in the deaths of innocents, innocents that the doctor had killed, suffocating him. Hisoka had to get the doctor to agree. “You’re destroying him with your games! Is that really what you want?”

“Perhaps,” Muraki replied. The doctor canted his head, scrutinizing the young man before him. He noticed how Hisoka shifted nervously under his gaze. There might be fun to be had here.

“If I do leave your precious Tsuzuki alone, you’ll do whatever I ask? Is that what you’re offering?”

Hisoka strengthened his resolve, dark memories screaming at him from the depths of his mind. He could do this. For Tsuzuki’s sake. “Yes.”

Narrowing his silver eyes, Muraki grinned widely at the young man. “Well then, let’s be off, shall we?”

===========================

Hisoka watched as the doctor hung his white overcoat on the coat rack near the door. Ushering him into the spacious living room, Muraki bid the young man to sit on the couch.

“I’d rather stand,” the guardian of death remarked.

“Suit yourself,” Muraki replied as he took a seat on the pale leather sofa. He crossed his legs, considering the way that the young man shifted his body’s weight anxiously from foot to foot. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No. You’d probably poison it, anyway.”

Muraki sighed deeply, as if put upon. “I’m just trying to be a gracious host, Hisoka. Is there really anything that I can do to hurt you now, being the thing that you are?” The doctor’s innocent expression was belied by the sinister glint in his eye.

“Let’s just get on with this,” Hisoka demanded. He wasn’t in a hurry to proceed, but it would be better than feigned niceties from the man who’d been responsible for his demise.

“Suit yourself,” Muraki replied, rising from the couch. It annoyed Hisoka how the man’s every movement appeared graceful somehow. “Follow me.”

Up the winding staircase and down a hallway, and the pair were in the master bedroom of the doctor’s sizable home. Hisoka tried to keep his distance from the other man, but at some point, the doctor managed to slip behind him to place both hands onto his shoulders. Hisoka startled at the touch. The man was close enough that the guardian of death could feel warm breath against his neck.

“Allow me,” Muraki said as he drew Hisoka’s lightweight jacket off of his shoulders. The young man was unnerved by how the doctor seemed to caress his arms as the item of clothing was removed, the warmth of his touch transmitted even through the sleeves of the shirt beneath. The doctor folded the item neatly, placing it on a nearby table.

Hisoka watched as Muraki took off his suit jacket to hang it in the ample closet. “You know, Hisoka,” the man began as he placed the coat on the rod, “I was surprised that you suggested an arrangement such as this, given our history together.” The man turned to look pointedly at his reluctant companion. “Is that to say that you didn’t mind our previous time together as much as you previously let on, or is it that you care for Mr. Tsuzuki so much that you’d overlook it?”

Hisoka’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “How dare you! I’m just doing this for Tsuzuki’s sake! How dare you suggest that I’d ever want… I don’t even want to be in the same room with you!”

The response from Muraki that he expected was annoyance or anger. Instead, Hisoka was greeted with a wry smile that he wanted to wipe from the doctor’s face. “So that’s why your heart is beating so fast and your breathing is so deep? It’s your hatred of me? But are you sure?” The surgeon stalked toward him, the smile turning into a wide and seemingly knowing grin. “Or is it just easier for you this way? Easier for you to believe that this bargain is about you helping your pathetically weak-minded friend, and not about satisfying your own desires?”

“Bastard!” Hisoka shouted at the man, attempting to strike at him. His target caught the fist before it could connect, wrenching his arm painfully behind his back, and performing a similar act on its twin. Hisoka struggled, but the doctor’s grip was strong.

“Ah, so much spirit, even now,” Muraki remarked, his smile widening as the young man struggled further to no avail. “You were like this back then. All that young supple flesh straining beneath me. But still, you yielded. And you’ll yield to me now.”

Hisoka groaned, the spell emblazoned onto his back burning painfully. He thought that his knees would give way, but the doctor’s strong arms kept him upright. The young man found himself forced backward against a wall. He grunted as the sensitive skin of his back impacted the surface with a thud.

“Just admit it to yourself, Hisoka,” Muraki purred into the young man’s ear as he tried to turn away. “It’s not as though I of all people would blame you. Cease this farce of resistance. You and I both know what it is that you really want.”

Hisoka turned his head to glare up at the taller man, still trying to twist out of his grip. “Don’t flatter yourself!” he spat. “Remembering the things that happened, the things that you did, makes me nauseous!”

Muraki leered at the young man to his unease. He shifted closer to press his loins into those of his reluctant partner. “So this,” he said, indicating the beginnings of an erection in the young man’s jeans by rubbing himself against it, “has nothing at all to do with me? Your body is so eager for what you deny with your lips.”

The doctor squeezed the young man’s wrists, making him groan, a groan not entirely from discomfort. Muraki smiled knowingly. “Or do you enjoy it, me binding you like this?”

“No!”

Muraki chuckled. “I think that you are protesting a bit too much, Hisoka. Don’t worry. I’ll give you what you want.” He wrenched Hisoka’s hands up above his head, pressing them to the wall. Hisoka saw the man’s look of concentration and heard the words of a murmured spell, and suddenly felt something surround his wrists as Muraki let go. No matter how he struggled, the magical bonds wouldn’t loosen. Hisoka found himself pulled higher with a wave of Muraki’s hand so that he hung from his wrists, his toes barely touching the ground.

“Ooo,” Muraki cooed, pleased by the way Hisoka struggled in vain against the bonds, shifting against the wall. “I have half a mind to leave you there like this for a time.”

“Bastard! Don’t you dare! I didn’t sign on to be abused like this by you!”

“Really?” Muraki replied, smirking as he approached the young man. “Did you think that you’d come here, bargaining with your body, and this deal would be on your terms? Oh no, my boy, this is entirely my show.”

The doctor began to unfasten the buttons to Hisoka’s shirt as he continued to struggle. He leaned forward to lap at soft exposed skin. “You should be glad of how the situation turned out for you in the end,” Muraki said as he stroked the skin of Hisoka’s chest. “Many people would kill for what you have.” He stroked the sweaty skin of the guardian’s quivering belly. “A body eternally young, with such pliant flesh.” The doctor bent to run his tongue over it, tasting.

Hisoka wriggled in his restraints. The binding around his wrists began to tighten painfully as he cried out. “Don’t struggle too much, dear Hisoka,” the doctor warned. “They’ll get much tighter if you do. It would be a shame to loose those soft little hands of yours.”

The young man stilled, and the bindings loosened a fraction. His arms were sore from supporting his body weight. What was more disturbing was the unwanted erection straining to free itself from his jeans. Muraki bent to nibble on the bulge in his pants, making him groan.

“That’s it,” the doctor said. “Give in to the sensations that I’m granting you.”

Hisoka was reminded of the worst part of what Muraki did to him years ago. He’d pulled the reluctant orgasm from his abused body, leaving him shamed before his prolonged death. Now he was doing it again, playing his body like an instrument. Hisoka’s back arched as his erection was freed from his pants and stroked, his toes curling as his sacs were massaged by the surgeon’s free hand.

“Don’t,” the guardian of death tried to plead, “don’t make me like this!”

Muraki leered at him, enjoying the look of helpless passion on his features. “I like the way you look, Hisoka. I’ll have you screaming before I’m through.”

The doctor pulled the young man’s jeans roughly down lean thighs, pulling the garment off to lay on the floor, his prior neatness forgotten in his growing arousal. Hisoka’s briefs went the way of his pants, leaving him exposed before the man with his erection protruding stiffly. Muraki noted that a pearly droplet of fluid had collected on the tip of it. He leaned down to lap it off as Hisoka shivered.

“Mmm. I’d forgotten how good you tasted, Hisoka,” the doctor remarked. “So eager for my attention.” He opened the drawer to the adjacent nightstand to retrieve a tube of lubricant. “No reason why we both can’t enjoy ourselves,” he said, spreading the smooth substance onto his fingers.

Hisoka grimaced as two fingers were inserted inside of him, and not gently. Muraki fisted his erection with his other hand, watching how his body jerked from the stimulation. Hisoka cried out at the third finger inserted before he’d stretched enough. Muraki was in a hurry, his own erection tenting his dress slacks. The young man’s relief at having the man’s long fingers leave his body was eclipsed by the terror of watching the doctor stroke lubricant quickly onto his own leaking erection.

Moving between his legs, Muraki lifted the young man’s thighs as he hung from his wrists, exposing the lubricated entrance to his body. Hisoka’s breath was knocked from him as Muraki shoved forward, impaling him in one long thrust. The man held still, a look of ecstasy on his face as Hisoka’s flesh quivered around him.

Muraki sighed. “I’d forgotten how tight you were, Hisoka.” He lapped at a rivulet of perspiration running down the young man’s cheek. “Everything about you is delicious. Your skin,” he told him as he licked the flesh again. “Your scent,” Muraki said as he leaned in to nuzzle the space between neck and shoulder. “And your tight little hole,” the doctor said, punctuating the remark with a sharp thrust.

As the doctor began to thrust rhythmically, Hisoka tried to pretend that he was somewhere else. That it wasn’t his neck that Muraki was nibbling. That it wasn’t his rear that the man was pounding into. That the waves of pleasure washing over him weren’t being experienced by his body. Had he wanted this secretly? Hisoka wasn’t even sure of the answer, his body moving up and down the wall by the force of the man’s thrusts. Muraki began to stroke a place within Hisoka that sent jolts of pleasure shooting through him. The worst of it was that the guardian of death wasn’t even sure if he wanted it to stop.

Muraki grunted as he continued to push into the young body before him, enjoying how tight flesh squeezed him so intimately. He smirked at Hisoka’s soft cries, cries that had nothing to do with pain. Oh yes, his body was just as sweet as it had been years ago.

Pulling against his restraints, Hisoka shouted as orgasm crashed upon him. He poured his seed over his own belly as well as the doctor’s as his cock was rubbed between them. Muraki thrust raggedly into the young body several more times before emptying into the tight orifice. The doctor sighed against the sweaty soft skin of Hisoka’s neck before pulling out, a trickle of his seed making its way down the young man’s thigh.

Disheveled, Hisoka hung from the wall, unable to meet Muraki’s eyes, his face burning in shame. A hand on his chin tilted it up so that he was looking into the surgeon’s cold but laughing eyes.

“Our deal has yet to be completed, Hisoka,” Muraki told him. “I’ll only stay away from your darling Tsuzuki for as long as you keep me satisfied.”

Cursing himself inwardly, Hisoka nodded.

End

(FIC) Bliss of Another Kind

2008-02-12T20:57:30Z

Title: Bliss of Another Kind
Author: Eumenides
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Muraki/m
Warnings: Rape, death, and disturbing imagery
Summary: No spoilers. Takes place pre-series. Muraki experiences his first kill.

It was a cool night in autumn. Outside of the abandoned warehouse, the wind rustled the trees, leaves falling to the ground. The light of the moon filtered through the dirty broken glass of the windows to illuminate the scene within. In the center of the spacious area, the unconscious form of a teenaged boy lay bound and gagged on the floor. Near the other side of the room, Kazutaka Muraki took off his pale overcoat, folding it neatly and placing it onto a box. He stalked over toward his captive who lay as he had positioned him, on his back with his hands chained above him, legs chained spread-eagle, and a ball gag in his mouth. Saliva trickled slightly out of the corner of the teen’s mouth.

Kidnapping the youth had been surprisingly easy. Muraki had set his sites on the teen when he had seen him at the hospital in which he worked a few days prior. The doctor had been leading a group of residents during attending rounds through the surgical ward. The teen had been at the bedside of his father along with the rest of his family, visiting the middle-aged man after a successful operation that Muraki had performed overnight. The surgeon became enchanted by the lad, who had thanked him for saving his father’s life before Muraki left with his group to tend to his other patients. The doctor was taken by the teen’s beautiful face and expressive brown eyes. He’d told the boy that gratitude wasn’t necessary. Saving people was what he did. He was a surgeon, after all.

Muraki had followed the young man in his car earlier in the night as he walked alone, separating from his friends to head for home. As the teen walked into an area that was dimly lit with no other pedestrians to be seen, Muraki revealed himself. Recognizing the doctor, the teen walked up to the car, greeting the surgeon enthusiastically, thanking him again for his work. Muraki was informed that the boy's father would be getting out of the hospital in a few days. The youth took Muraki up on his offer of a ride home. Unfortunately for the boy, the surgeon had no intention of taking him there.

Rustling could be heard as the teen began to wake. Kazutaka crouched down to regard him more closely. Fully awake, the lad began to struggle against his bonds before looking up into the doctor’s face in wide-eyed disbelief. His eyes became even wider as he noted the long sharp knife that the doctor held in his dominant hand as it glinted in the silver moonlight.

The surgeon wore a strangely pleased expression as he ran the flat side of the blade down the boy’s cheek as he whimpered and turned away. Reaching the teen’s chest, Muraki began to cut the buttons from the boy’s shirt one by one, his youthful body trembling in fear. Kazutaka parted the shirt, exposing supple young flesh. He ran the flat of the blade down the boy’s chest, scraping skin and drawing blood as he passed to the teen’s belly, earning a sharp gasp from the youth. He smeared the blood with his hand, painting pale skin in shades of pink.

Moving toward the youth’s feet, Muraki slit the fabric of the legs of his pants upward. Performing a similar act on the boy’s undergarments, he cast the ruined clothing aside. The exposed youth looked up at him in horror as what was about to occur dawned on him. Eyes glistening with tears, the teen shook his head as he tried to plead around the gag. Kazutaka leaned down, wiping the stream with his thumb as he smiled.

The doctor laid the knife down nearby, raising a hand to stroke the boy’s skin as he began to sob, chest heaving. Not yet a man, the youth hadn’t yet lost that soft smoothness to be found among boys. Kazutaka gazed down into the teen’s glistening eyes again. He knew what the lad was thinking. He knew that the boy was pleading with his eyes for another day of life. But life was Muraki’s to command. It had been for some time. As a surgeon, he brings people from the brink of death on a daily basis. Sure, he had seen many die. What other kind of doctor holds the power of life and death in his hand so literally? But on this night, ther doctor would be playing a different role. For Muraki had decided earlier that he had to find out. He had to know.

As Kazutaka began to unfasten his pants, the youth began to struggle in vain against the chains once more. The surgeon chuckled slightly as he shook his head. It never ceased to amaze and amuse him how people in general were unable to accept the inevitable. Freeing his erection, he reached into the pocket of his trousers for the small packet of lubricant. Ripping it open, he stroked the substance onto his member, enjoying the way that it felt, along with the frightened look that the teen gave him as he continued to struggle. The lubricant wasn’t for the boy’s benefit, but for his own. While he did enjoy a bit of pain to some extent, the lack of lubricant and a very tight passage could sometimes take the enjoyment out of the act for him.

Muraki let some slack into the chains before moving into the space between the teen’s legs. He pulled the youth down toward him a bit, the teen’s arms extending painfully as he moaned. Muraki pushed his legs up slightly before placing the head of his member at the youth’s unprepared entrance. The teen moaned in discomfort, struggling anew as Kazutaka forced his way inside. The soft skin tore slightly as it yielded to the doctor, the boy whimpering in pain. Muraki pressed in quickly to the hilt, enjoying both the sensation of tight heat twitching around him, as well as the boy’s muffled moan of pain.

Muraki set up a leisurely rhythm as the teen squirmed, impaled on his member. He wanted to see how long he could make it last. The surgeon breathed deeply as he listened to the sounds that the youth made, chest heaving. He wanted to keep himself quiet so that he could hear every whimper and sob. Muraki picked up the tempo of his thrusts, making the teen grunt. He loosened his tie, casting it aside with one hand, and haphazardly opening the buttons of his shirt with one hand, as his other clutched the boy’s waist painfully. Normally an obsessively neat person, Kazutaka became quite the opposite when aroused. Was it the sight of blood on his member as it pushed into and out of the youth that had done it?

The teen groaned around the ball gag as Kazutaka began to thrust into him in earnest, unable to restrain himself any longer. The teen's young body shook with each thrust. Tears began to stream down the lad’s face again at the increase in his discomfort, and the fear over what would become of him after the doctor had satisfied himself. Would he let him live? Would there be anything left for his parents to bury if he didn't?

Perspiration beaded on Muraki's face and chest as he continued to ravage the youth. The doctor couldn’t help but let out a groan of pleasure at the deliciously tight passage of the teen. He could feel the beginnings of orgasm at the edge of his consciousness. This was it. He’d find out very soon.

Kazutaka slid the hand that he’d placed on the boy’s waist upward to his chest, his fingers rubbing the boy’s ribs while his thumb stroked his xyphoid. With his free hand, Muraki picked up the knife by his side, pressing it to the boy’s skin an inch below his thumb at a sharp angle. The teen whimpered around the gag as he felt the point of the blade bite into his skin, struggling for what he knew was likely the last time.

Moaning aloud, Muraki tried to hold off, to make the moment last. However, the excitement and pleasing tightness of the boy’s passage became too much for him. Groaning, orgasm washed upon him. As Kazutaka spilled himself within the youth, he pushed on the knife that he held to the teen, blade making the soft skin under the cage that shielded the beating organ yield to it. The teen screeched around the gag as Muraki twisted the long blade as he pulled it out, heart’s blood spraying his face, chest, and the youth’s body. A pool of red spread out from the teen as his body’s blood poured out from the rent that the doctor had made.

Through blood splattered glasses, Muraki gazed down into the wide eyes of the teen, his skin becoming pale, his movements ceasing. The boy’s irises became thin rings of color as his pupils dilated in death. Kazutaka could almost see himself in them. A strange calm passed over the doctor as he began to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the exhilaration.

Head rolling back onto his shoulders, Muraki sighed deeply as he stared up into nothing, silver eyes and hair shining in the moonlight streaming in through the broken glass, a look of peace on his face. As the body cooled around him, Kazutaka smiled broadly, having confirmed the truth that he had suspected. To rape is to feel power. But to kill is a bliss of another kind.

End

(FIC) Quid Quo Pro

2008-02-12T20:55:54Z

Title: Quid Quo Pro
Fandom: My Sexual Harassment
Pairing: Masataka/Kasunori
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mild BDSM
Summary: Set pre-anime. Honma is taught what it is to be an elite businessman.

Honma looked out the window of his new office, surveying the park below. He was the youngest manager of the computer company he worked for, having risen quickly through the ranks after his graduation from the prestigious college he’d attended. Smiling to himself, he sat by his desk in his comfortable new leather chair. When he’d graduated, he was surprised that he was able to get a high level job. The vice president of the company, Masataka Sawamura, was an alumnus of the college Kasunori had attended. He seemed impressed with Honma’s performance there, and had put in a good word for him. After he was hired, Mr. Sawamura had taken an interest in him, providing helpful guidance in his new career. Honma felt his superior must have played a role in gaining him the manager’s position he now held after the retirement of the previous manager. Even though Honma was a very capable man, and had proven himself thus, positions of power in this company weren’t usually granted to newcomers.

As Kasunori sat at his new desk, wondering how he could repay the man who had become his mentor, the phone rang. He picked up the phone, cradling it between cheek and shoulder, answering with a greeting.

“Kasunori, it’s me, Masataka.”

“Mr. Sawamura,” Honma responded, having to smile at how coincidental it was for the man to call when he had been thinking of him. “How are you this morning?”

“Now Kasunori, I’ve told you to call me more familiarly,” the man gently chastised, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course, Mr. Sa… Masataka,” Kasunori answered.

“Kasunori, I was thinking about celebrating your new position. Why don’t we have a nice dinner together, just us friends. I know a great little restaurant that would be perfect.”

Honma smiled at his superior’s kindness. “That would be wonderful, Masataka.” Having powerful friends in the business world was fortuitous.

*************************************

Dinner was at a quaint Western-style restaurant. After a lovely dinner where the two chatted away, Sawamura invited Kasunori back to his penthouse apartment for a nightcap. Tomorrow was his day off, so Honma had no problem accepting the offer. The two entered the lavish apartment. Taking off his shoes at the entranceway, Sawamura fetched his guest a pair of slippers to use. The apartment was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. As the two made their way through the apartment, Masataka casually informed him that his wife and their two teenaged daughters were visiting relatives for the weekend. Upon entering the living room, Kasunori noticed a picture of the woman and the children among other photos on a case of shelves on one side of the room. She was a beauty, despite her age. In his mind's eye, Honma recalled meeting the woman last spring at a company event, as well as how her husband seemed so attentive towards her. She and Sawamura gave all appearances of being quite the devoted married couple.

Sawamura guestured to the couch, asking for Kasunori to sit as he retrieved a bottle of wine and two glasses from the liquor cabinet in the room. Setting the wine glasses down onto the coffee table, Sawamura poured the golden liquid into them. He handed one glass to his young friend before taking a nearby seat on the couch. Sawamura watched the younger man raise the glass to his lips, sipping it with relish.

“This is wonderful,” Kasunori stated with a faint smile.

“I’m glad you like it,” Masataka responded. The man shifted closer to his young friend. “Kasunori,” the man started, gazing into his eyes, “I’ve always liked you.”

“I feel the same way, Masataka,” Kasunori answered, smiling.

Masataka continued, “That’s why when Tanaka retired, I suggested you as his replacement. You’ve shown a lot of potential, and I don’t doubt that you’ll continue to be a credit to this company.”

“I thank you for your kind words and your help, Masataka,” Honma replied, honest sincerity tinging his voice.

The older man set his wine glass on the table and regarded his junior. A wry smile spread across his face. “So you want to thank me, do you?” he asked Kasunori. “I think I know a way you could show your gratitude.” Masataka leaned toward him slightly, placing a hand on Kasunori’s thigh, sliding it upward. Honma startled at the gesture.

“M-Masataka!” Honma responded, flustered. “You’re married… and I’m not into that sort of thing!”

Sawamura chuckled, enjoying watching Honma's cheeks flush faintly. “It's refreshing that you can still be so naïve, Kasunori. Pleasure is pleasure, regardless of were you find it. And on the subject of my wife, why do you think she went away this weekend?”

Honma’s eyes widened. He could hardly believe what the other man was implying. “You mean, she knows about this?”

“Of course,” Masataka answered his startled young friend, “Yuzuriha and I have an understanding. As long as I am discrete, she doesn’t mind my affairs. She even prefers them to be men, since there is no potential for illegitimate children. I allow her dalliances as well.” Masataka continued as the younger man's brows knitted together, “It’s a partnership that we have. We’ve risen to the top together, and have both had our roles to play. It’s not that we don’t love each other, but there is something to be said for variety.”

He regarded his young friend with a look that held the promise of dark pleasures. “Kasunori, it’s not as though you have to thank me in this way. You are a very capable man. I’m sure you would have risen to the position you have now totally through your own merit. But why should you have waited years when there are much more efficient ways. All elite businessmen understand this. It’s time you opened up your mind, and stepped out of the realm of the ordinary. I could show you… if you let me.” Masataka took up stroking Kasunori’s leg again, sliding his hand upward toward the junction of hip and thigh to fondle his crotch. Kasunori startled, but didn’t move away as the older man leaned closer, capturing his lips in a demanding kiss. Kasunori gasped as Sawamura unfastened his pants to slide a hand inside, surrounding his member with stroking fingers. Masataka took advantage of his friend’s surprised arousal, deepening the kiss and pushing him back against the couch. Kasunori couldn’t believe how excited he was getting because of his friend’s ministrations. It was different from being with a woman. Masataka knew just where and how to touch him to get the maximal response. His friend had gone through a lot of effort to help him. And he was grateful for it. And what his friend was doing did feel awfully nice. He supposed he could give into what the man wanted… just this once.

*************************************

Kneeling on the floor a short time later, with his hands bound behind his back, Honma wondered how he’d gotten himself into such a strange predicament. His friend and superior, after molesting him in such an enjoyable way on the couch, had suggested that they move their activities to the bedroom. “I’ve got something I want to show you, Kasunori,” his friend had said, casting a glance back at him as he led Honma forward by a clasped hand. “It’s a fun game we can play.” The fun game consisted of Honma being bound with leather straps, clad only in his briefs while kneeling on the floor. Masataka had also put him in a leather harness-like contraption. He even had a collar around his neck that read 'pet.'

“I don’t want to gag you," Sawamura had said, "I want to hear what kind of sounds you’ll make.”

Masataka now stood before the young man sporting a black silk yukata with sakura petal accents. Honma wondered if he was wearing anything under it. Looking up, Kasunori noticed that the older man was holding something in one of his hands.

“You’re new to this type of thing, Kasunori,” Sawamura told him, “so I’ll start you off gently. Don’t worry.” The man knelt in front of his junior, opening his hand to show Honma two small clamp-like objects. They glinted in the light above.

“What are those for?” Honma asked, not sure if he liked the direction this game was headed.

With a pleasant smile, Masataka showed him. He tweaked one of the young man’s nipples until it stood up proudly, then closed the clamp on it. Honma jerked away somewhat, hissing in pain.

Masataka placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling the younger man back toward him. “Pleasure isn’t as sweet without the concept of pain,” Masataka instructed as he gave the other nipple the same treatment. “And pain can hold its own form of pleasure.” The older man grasped the two clamps, twisting somewhat, making the younger man squirm and try to shift away.

“D-don’t do that!” Kasunori protested, though he was beginning to feel strangely aroused.

“Relax, Kasunori. The fun’s just starting.”

Masataka slid a hand down Honma's belly and into his briefs, grasping the younger man's erection to stroke it firmly. He watched the young man’s heaving chest as his member hardened in his hand.

“You’re getting so wet,” Sawamura noted aloud as he wiped a thumb over the head of his cock, “You’re enjoying this, aren't you, dirty boy.”

Pushing Honma's underwear down far enough to expose the man, he leaned down to capture his friend’s erection with his lips, suckling the head before taking more inside. Kasunori groaned as the older man took him down to the base, milking him. He could count on one hand the number of times a woman had done this for him. Kasunori couldn't remember any of his girlfriends being as good as Sawamura was at the act. Honma moaned aloud, tilting back his head as his friend continued to suckle his erection expertly. Masataka smiled around his erection, reaching into the pocket of his yukata. He loved the sounds the young man was making, and wanted to be able to play with him for much longer. Grasping his member, Masataka fastened a cock ring firmly around the base of it.

Honma gasped as the object was slipped into place. “W-what’s that for?”

“The ring will let us play together for a long while. Don’t look so worried,” Masataka said, taking in Kasunori’s distressed appearance. He raised a hand to cup the younger man's chin. “I’ll take good care of you.”

Sawamura moved away toward the bed, retrieving a box out of the bottom nightstand drawer. He came back to where Kasunori knelt. As he opened the container, Kasunori could see what was inside. What appeared to be a vibrator, a tube of lubricant, various clamps, and what seemed to be large clear beads on a string, were among the contents. Masataka pushed him forward so that his face and shoulders were now against the soft carpeting, and his rear in the air.

“Nice view,” the older man remarked, “But these are in the way.” Grasping the side of Honma’s briefs between his hands, Masataka tore the material in half. Kasunori gasped as Sawamura did the same to the other side, tossing the material into the corner of the room. “Much better,” Sawamura remarked, kneeling behind the young man, “now I can see the naughtiest parts of you.”

Honma could feel the man’s warm breath on his lower back as Masataka began to place wet kisses there. Moving lower, he planted sucking kisses on both cheeks before spreading them with his hands and moving inward. Kasunori groaned as he felt the older man’s warm tongue laving his entrance. Squirming, he couldn’t believe what his superior was doing. It was so… dirty, and yet so enjoyable. Kasunori’s face warmed as it flushed, his erection throbbing in the confines of the ring. He rubbed his face and shoulders against the carpeting as he writhed.

“Nnnn, Masataka,” he moaned as the man pushed against his entrance with his tongue. “So good…”

“I’ll make you feel even better,” his friend paused to answer.

Sawamura lubricated his index and middle fingers, inserting one into the young man’s passage slowly. Honma frowned at the strange feeling. When a second finger was inserted, Kasunori grimaced at the uncomfortable sensation. Masataka could feel the young man clenching around his fingers at the intrusion. He rubbed circles on the young man’s lower back.

“Shh… relax Kasunori,” the older man said in response to the soft whimper from his junior, “Remember, pain can be its own pleasure.”

Breathing deeply, Kasunori began to relax, with his superior’s fingers scissoring inside him. The burning gave way to a strange, pleasant sensation. Masataka removed his fingers, reaching for the beads in the box. Kasunori felt a good deal of pressure at his entrance as Masataka began to press the first of the lubricated beads into his backside. The first two felt quite pleasant and had him moaning softly.

After Sawamura continued to press more inside of his passage, the feeling turned to a fullness that bordered on uncomfortable.

“Please, no more,” Honma said as the older man slid another bead inside him, “It’s starting to hurt… take them out.”

“No,” Sawamura responded firmly. “I’m trying to teach you, Kasunori.”

Masataka left the string inside him, with several beads remaining outside of the young man. He moved away to sit on the colorful comforter of the soft bed. He cast a dark glance at the young man. “Come here,” he commanded, beckoning.

Honma tried to push up from the carpeting. As he did, the beads shifted uncomfortably. “I-I can’t!”

“Then I guess I’ll have to punish you if you don’t want to play nicely,” the older man told him. Not wanting to know what Sawamura saw as punishment, Honma made more of an effort, pushing up onto his knees from the floor. Hands still bound behind him, he shifted forward slowly, crawling on his knees as the beads slid inside him. It felt uncomfortable, but at the same time, strangely pleasurable. He startled as the beads touched something in him that made him see stars and his member throb. The young man paused to moan and pant.

“Come on, Kasunori. Don’t make me wait.” Honma moved as quickly as he could until he was kneeling between the older man’s legs, perspiration beading on his skin.

“Such a good boy you are,” Masataka said while stroking his hair and face. “I’ll have to give you a treat.”

He leaned down to capture his junior’s lips in a probing kiss. Kasunori moaned into his superior’s mouth. Masataka pulled away with a wet sound. He opened his yukata enough to expose his erection. Grasping hold of it, he rubbed the weeping head against the young man’s lips. Honma tried to turn his face away, but the older man grasped him by his hair, pulling roughly. Kasunori yelped, and Masataka took advantage of this, sliding his member past his lips. He looked into Honma’s surprised eyes, stroking his cheek with his other hand sweetly. Honma finally started to suckle the man. Sawamura had done the same for him, hadn’t he? It wasn’t so bad. The other man started to groan as Kasunori suckled him. Holding the back of the younger man’s head, he began thrusting gently up into his mouth. Face flushing, Honma was embarrassed at how this treatment was exciting him.

Groaning, Sawamura said, “I can’t wait any longer, Kasunori.” Leaning over, he grasped the end of the string of beads, pulling them out in one motion. Kasunori cried out as his cock throbbed, the ring preventing his orgasm. The older man rose quickly from the bed, pushing Honma forward and down against it. With his knee, Sawamura nudged Kasunori’s legs apart, before pressing his member at the entrance of the younger man’s passage. Honma grunted as the older man thrust inside. The vice president continued to push until he was in to the hilt. Trembling, perspiration broke out over Honma’s face as he tried to relax.

“Aah,” Sawamura sighed in pleasure, “I can feel you grasping me, Kasunori. It’s as if you don’t want to let me go.” Masataka groaned as he began thrusting hard and deep into the young businessman. Honma tried to breathe as he was pounded into the mattress.

When his superior changed the angle of his thrusts, he saw stars. “Aah, Masataka!” Kasunori cried out. “It feels so good!”

Sweat running down his chest in tiny rivulets from exertion, Masataka panted, “I told you that you’d like it, Kasunori.” The older man reached around to stroke the other’s engorged erection. The pleasure began to become too much for the younger man. He needed release so badly, but the ring prevented it.

“Please,” Honma asked, “T-take off the ring.”

Masataka smirked as he plowed into the man below him, squeezing his erection firmly, earning a whimper from the young man, “I’m sure you can beg much better than that.”

“Please, Masataka… let me come… please let me!” At that, Sawamura unfastened the cock ring. A few thrusts later, Kasunori was screaming in orgasm, spilling his essence against the bed and onto the carpet. The older man was right behind him, emptying himself into the young man’s tight rear. He slumped against Kasunori as he tried to catch his breath.

“I knew you’d be delicious from the moment I first saw you,” Masataka murmured into Kasunori’s ear.

Throughout his career in his company, Honma continued to learn from Sawamura what it was to be an elite businessman, until Honma could impart his own knowledge to a junior of his own.

End

Feel You

2008-02-12T20:54:12Z

Title: Feel You
Author: Eumenides
Fandom: Hellsing
Pairing: Anderson solo, thoughts of Alucard/Anderson
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: masturbation
Summary: Sequel to “Fall from Grace.” Anderson realizes that recent events have affected him in ways he wouldn’t have expected.

Pacing the floor of his room, an irritated Alexander Anderson rubbed his left wrist. It was still sore after his ill treatment at the hands of the Hellsing Organization’s prized executioner, Alucard. Shortly after the vampire had had his way with the previously celibate priest, Alucard had inexplicably freed the man from his bindings, vanishing before the sore paladin could rise to give chase. Upon seeing the priest in a foul mood upon his return, his fellow brothers and sisters wisely gave him time to himself. Anderson was known for his lack of inhibition, especially when angered.

The paladin kicked the small table in the corner of the room, sending the objects atop it crashing noisily to the ground. He knew that vampires were godless creatures of the night, but this one had absolutely no shame, no shred of remaining morality to stop him from desecrating a man of the cloth. Anderson flopped down onto the twin bed. He kept replaying the events leading up to his debauchery in his mind, trying to pick apart how he had been bested by the creature to prevent it from happening again. He covered his eyes with an arm, as if that could block out the image of Alucard leering down at him.

Visions of the vampire laving his own gun with a long pink tongue danced across the paladin’s mind. Piercing red eyes gazed back at him, holding the promise of countless sins. The remembered sensation of cool breath on his neck made the priest shiver, that of cool hands on his skin made the man’s cock twitch in the confines of his pants.

Anderson’s face burned with shame. What had happened to him was vile. But why was his heart racing at the memory of the vampire’s touch? At the recollection of that baritone voice murmuring wickedness into his ear? Of its own volition, the paladin’s hand slipped down to the bulge in his pants, sliding over hardening flesh. Once Anderson realized what he was doing, he snatched the hand back as if burnt by the heat in his loins. What was he thinking? He couldn’t, could he?

Making a decision, Anderson rose from the bed, his feet carrying him toward the door. His hand paused on its way toward the handle, but then turned the lock into place. Assured of no sudden interruptions, the priest returned to his bed, loosening his robes on his way there. Lying on his back, Anderson unfastened his slacks to slip a bare hand inside. His face flushed with embarrassment, the man wrapped long fingers around the erection tenting the fabric, sighing as he stroked his own flesh.

Anderson kept trying to assure himself that he was only doing this to relieve months of pent-up sexual frustration that was only now asserting itself. It didn’t mean that he had any kind of inclinations toward that unearthly beast, other than severing its head. However, the fantasies that played across the back of his eyelids were given the shape of a hellion dressed in red with a voice that seemed to slide as sensuously across bare skin as his cool hands. The fingers kneading the paladin’s erection soon became Alucard’s as the creature straddled him. Anderson fancied that he could feel the weight of the vampire sitting upon him, as well as the creature’s answering erection straining against his thigh.

You like this, don’t you? I could tell that you would. I could smell it on you a mile away.

The sound of flesh sliding against flesh seemed so loud to Anderson’s ears, as did the imagined voice of his phantom suitor.

You can make noise, if you need to.

A thumb rolled across the head of his cock, spreading the growing moisture found there. Thumbing the slit, the man gasped at the sparks of pleasure that spread out from his core.

The paladin turned his head to the side as he panted, covering his face with his free arm as if he could hide from the taunting red eyes that stared back from within his mind, or from the one who was truly watching. Anderson fancied that he could feel a hand swirling in the sweat pooling on his quivering belly. A deep voice gave a silken laugh at his shy movement. Even in the priest’s fantasies, Alucard mocked him.

You try to hide from me, as if I don’t know the darkness inside of you. I already told you. You’re damned, just as much as I am.

Cool breath bathed Anderson’s erection before imagined suction took its place. Face burning as his chest heaved, the paladin began to thrust up into his waiting fist, imagining that it was Alucard’s all too willing throat. Anderson tightened his grip as he pictured a long tongue swirling around the head before engulfing his shaft once more. Shifting on the bed, the man moved his free hand down to cup his sacs, massaging the contents as his back arched.

Anderson pictured what it would look like to peer down his own body to see red eyes gazing back at him, gleaming with lust as the vampire’s smirking mouth rose and fell on his erection. Even unwilling as he had been, the sight of Alucard fellating his own gun had made the paladin’s cock drool over the possibility that it would be next. If the man were to say that he and his smaller self hadn’t been somewhat disappointed by this not occurring, he would have to add lying to an already weighty list of growing sins. Maybe next time, the vampire would- there most definitely would not be a next time. But that didn’t stop Anderson from dreaming about it. About how he’d grasp hold of unruly black hair while he pounded upward, the vampire making gagging noises. About how he’d shoot down the vile creature’s waiting throat.

The very thought of the vampire’s tight throat constricting him so intimately almost brought Anderson to the brink of his endurance. He fisted his erection with a firm grip as he pictured himself making the vampire take his flesh and its contents. Several more strokes had the paladin grunting as seed spilled over his hand and splattered his belly. Anderson’s sated body sank against the mattress, the sound of his ragged breaths loud in the empty room. Eyes fluttering shut, the paladin envisioned Alucard pulling back, a smirk on his face far too satisfied for what had just occurred. He lapped a trace of the priest’s seed from his lips before giving a wide and toothy grin.

End.

Fall from Grace

2008-02-12T20:51:40Z

Title: Fall from Grace
Author: Eumenides
Fandom: Hellsing
Pairing: Alucard/Anderson
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: non-con, gun kink, bondage
Summary: Shameless pornography masquerading as a story. Alucard and Anderson face off in a warehouse. No spoilers.

The sound of gunfire echoed through the abandoned warehouse as Alexander Anderson dodged the bullet meant for his head, bricks from the wall behind him shattering and spraying their shards forth. Flinging one of his blades in the vampire’s direction, he watched as Alucard deflected the object’s path with his gun, metal grinding against metal.

Unnerved by his failure to best the Hellsing organization’s pet during their last altercation, the paladin had been a bundle of angry energy, itching to burn off his aggression. Hearing about a group of vampires who had made a warehouse on the wrong side of town their haven, Anderson had jumped at the chance to slay some of the undead and hone his skills for his next encounter with the old vampire. The priest was both annoyed and yet strangely pleased when he had entered the building amidst the cries of disintegrating creatures, seeing his newest and most deadly foe, Alucard as the dust of the younger vampires settled.

“Ah, so late, priest,” the vampire had said, a smirk growing on his face. “Must I do all of your work for you?”

And so had begun their latest dance, two beings made more than what they had been due to circumstance. Two foes that perhaps should have been united in a sense of camaraderie, as they were both servants to the same higher power, a fact that wasn’t lost on the vampire.

“Should we even be fighting like this, priest?” Alucard asked. “We are on the same side, after all.”

“Don’t make me laugh!” Anderson replied, swinging a blade in a downward arc toward the vampire’s neck. Alucard blocked it with the barrel of his gun. Anderson tried to push the business end of it closer to his target as metal whined against metal. “The fact that the den of sinners calling itself the Hellsing Organization would use an abomination such as you to do His work is blasphemy!”

That wide, sharp toothed grin was back. Red eyes widened. “And what are you then? You’re not even truly a man anymore. You throw around words like ‘sinner,’ but do you even understand that you’ve become one?”

“How can you even dare try to judge me!” the priest shouted. Anderson slashed at the vampire with the blade in his other hand, but the being shifted, dancing away from him. “I’ll not let you run from me, creature!”

Alucard turned to see the priest sailing toward him, a blade driven toward him with both of the man’s hands. The vampire caught the priest’s wrists as the man tried to press the object downward. It drew blood where it scraped down the vampire’s cheek.

Anderson grinned madly, green eyes glittering with bloodlust. “I’ll finish you,” he growled.

A wide grin broke out over the vampire’s face. Over the years, he’d fought and killed many, human and undead. The deaths had started to become so easy that he’d begun to forget the thrill to be had from battle with an equal. The exhilaration to be found at the possibility of losing his immortal life to one worthy of the honor. Anderson seemed to be his match in both ferocity and the passion of his beliefs.

“You should see yourself, priest,” Alucard remarked, laughing. “Such passion in those eyes. Is the sight of my blood so arousing to you?”

“Shut up!” Anderson shouted as he attempted to bury his long blade in the vampire’s body and be done with it all.

In a burst of energy, Alucard pushed the priest backwards. The man lost his footing and fell supine on the ground with the vampire on top of him, the breath knocked out of him. His blade clattered noisily to the concrete floor. Alucard grinned as he straddled the man, holding both of the priest’s hands firmly over his head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Anderson demanded to know as he tried to buck the mischievous creature off of himself. He watched as the creature pulled off his red cravat with one hand, binding the priest’s hands firmly together with it.

“I’m going to teach you about real sin, priest,” Alucard replied, a strange gleam in his red eyes. Leaning over, he grasped Anderson’s discarded blade. Seeing the trail of his own blood marring the silver of the shaft, the vampire ran his tongue along the surface, lapping the red substance from it as the priest winced in disgust. Grinning, Alucard plunged the blade into the concrete through the priest’s restraints, pinning the man’s hands to the floor.

Anderson continued to attempt to buck the creature off, until he realized the effect that his motions were having on the vampire. He moved away from the hardening flesh between the vampire’s legs as if burned. Alucard noticed the motion, chuckling as he began to loosen his clothing with one hand as he trailed suggestively along the priest’s chest with the other.

“You filthy, vile creature!” Anderson spat as he struggled to no avail against his bindings. “Don’t you even dare try to do this to me, or so help me God, I’ll-”

He was interrupted by the vampire’s laughter. Alucard leaned down until he was mere inches from the paladin’s face, red eyes sparkling with mirth and lust. “You really think that He’ll listen to you? Do you really think that He’ll let you into His heaven with all the things that you’ve done?”

Alucard loomed closer as Anderson turned his face away angrily. The man felt the vampire’s cool breath on the side of his neck. “Oh, no,” the vampire murmured close to the priest’s ear. “You are a damned thing, just like me. Creatures such as us belong together, don’t you think?”

A cool tongue was drawn against the priest’s cheek as he grimaced. A deft hand began to unfasten the buttons to his robes. He could hardly believe what was about to happen to him at his enemy’s hands.

“Hmm? No more struggling?” Alucard asked. “Maybe you want this,” he murmured into the man’s ear.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction,” Anderson spat. If he were to be violated, he’d retain as much of his dignity as he could.

Alucard loomed over the man as he propped himself up on an arm, wanting to watch the changes coming over the priest’s face. He wondered how much of pleasures of the flesh that the man had experienced before taking his vows of celibacy. The vampire grinned as he snuck a hand into Anderson’s pants. In any event, he doubted that the man’s activities included what he intended to show him tonight.

Anderson gritted his teeth as his cock was stroked by a deft hand. He could hardly remember the last time that he’d touched himself. He’d had urges before, to do that and more, but meditation and prayer usually took care of them. Shifting beneath the vampire, the priest had no intention of giving any kind of verbal signs of distaste, since he thought that this behavior was a way of his enemy attempting to break and humiliate him. But when Alucard’s gloved thumb slid across the slit in the head of his cock, Anderson found himself only partially able to choke back a groan.

Alucard took a break from lapping at the shell of the priest’s ear to murmur into it, “I know that you’re enjoying this. I don’t mind if you cry out, if you need to.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, vampire,” Anderson retorted in a strained voice.

The only response that the paladin received was a chuckle as Alucard pulled back to grasp hold of the man’s pants and underwear, pulling both down to his ankles in one motion. With the vampire’s weight removed, Anderson tried to kick his foe backward. Grinning, Alucard grasped his ankles, sinking his teeth into one of the priest’s soft calves as the man yelped. He suckled at the twin holes he had made. Pulling back, Alucard licked Anderson’s blood from his lips as the man grimaced at the motion.

“That wasn’t very nice,” the vampire said. “And here I was going to be gentle with you. If you like rough housing, I can give you that.”

To the priest’s surprise, Alucard grasped his thighs, pushing them far upward and exposing the man embarrassingly. Anderson got more of a surprise as a cool, moist tongue began to lave the entrance to his nether region, noisily at that. When the pink muscle breeched the orifice to slither inside, the priest’s head smacked against the concrete floor noisily, the pain reverberating through his skull in a similar way as waves of pleasure did from his core. Alucard managed to chuckle somehow, even though his mouth was well occupied.

Anderson bit his lip as he arched his back, trying his best to keep from crying out from the sensations assaulting him. He let out the breath that he wasn’t aware that he was holding when the vampire paused. Opening his eyes and peering through his raised legs, Anderson was greeted with the sight of the vampire treating the barrel of his gun in a way that was quickly making the priest’s cock very jealous. That pink tongue slithered wetly around the long steel shaft as the vampire eyed him lewdly. The paladin tried to pretend that seeing the vampire treat his gun in such a fashion didn’t make his cock throb painfully, but exposed as he was, the man’s state of arousal was all too noticeable.

Alucard pulled away wetly from his weapon, a trail of saliva connecting his lower lip and the shaft before it thinned and broke. “You seem to like it,” he remarked, gesturing to his gun, “when it’s in my mouth. Let’s see how you like it when it’s elsewhere.”

The priest gasped as he felt the barrel pressed bluntly against his entrance. More pressure had the steel shaft slipping inside of him. Saliva made a poor lubricant, so even the smooth steel began to grate against the walls of his passage after a few thrusts. Anderson tried to twist away from the invasion, but the vampire had a firm hold of his thigh. The man’s wrists chaffed as much as his passage from the tight bindings around them.

Alucard noticed the priest’s squirming. “If you can’t take my gun, how do you expect to take me? I’m much thicker than this, I’ll have you know.”

Blushing and shivering from more than embarrassment despite the discomfort, Anderson panted. “You sick, depraved thing! You have no shame, no remaining shred of morality that you would do this to me!”

A wide grin blossomed on the vampire’s face. “In life, I was the kind of man who made his own rules. You can’t expect me to change now.”

Alucard allowed his eyes to fall to the view of his gun pumping in and out of the priest. The sparkling silver was marred by traces of the priest’s blood. Drawing it out, the vampire lapped the redness from the barrel. “Besides,” he told the man, ignoring the epithets that were thrown at him by the man’s acid tongue, “You’re acting so scandalized when your cock is weeping to have me bury myself deep within you.” Alucard grasped Anderson’s hard shaft, spreading the pearly moisture over the head. The priest was barely able to surpress a moan.

“Hmm,” the vampire pondered as he moved the hand stroking the priest’s cock into his open pants to stroke his own. “What to use? Saliva tends to dry. And blood’s fine for the first few strokes,” he said, noting the red trickle down Anderson’s crevice, “but it tends to get sticky. Coagulation, and all that,” he said, grinning as the priest scowled up at him.

He tore his hand away from the deliciousness that had been stroking his cock to fish in his pocket. Making a pleased sound as he smiled broadly, the vampire produced a small bottle of oil for his gun. Of course, it wasn’t intended for use on human skin, much less internally, but it was better than damaging the priest too much. As Anderson watched the vampire spread the substance on his stiff erection, he made a last attempt at freeing himself. His bindings and the vampire strengthening his grip on his thigh held the paladin firm.

Making a displeased sound as he shook his head, Alucard took his free hand and squeezed the priest’s cock firmly enough to earn a yelp. “You need to learn to behave yourself,” Alucard said as he positioned the man for a good angle of penetration. “Just think of how a lesser vampire would have treated you.”

“A lesser vampire would have killed me and been done with it,” Anderson growled, trying to prepare himself for what was to come as he felt the vampire’s cock poke him bluntly.

“Perhaps,” Alucard conceded, smirking. “But a cheap vampire deserves neither your blood nor your virgin ass.”

“You crude-,” the priest began, his diatribe cut off by the rough thrust that had half the vampire’s length buried within him. Another similar thrust had Alucard plunging balls deep into the man as he cried out.

Alucard gave a drawn out groan as he savored the clenching tightness of the priest’s rear. Grasping the man’s thighs firmly, he set up a punishing rhythm that had Anderson’s gritted teeth clattering against each other. The priest groaned through his teeth, not entirely from pain to his dismay. Though the stretch of his passage had initially been painful, the continued stroking of his walls began to morph into a strange pleasure that he’d never felt before.

“Bastard,” the paladin bit out. “Wait ‘til I get out of these. I’ll cut that perverted head of yours from your body!”

“Stop complaining,” Alucard responded, taking deep but unneeded breaths as he continued to pound the yielding flesh of the priest’s rear. “We both know that you’re enjoying this. It’s just your pride talking. Isn’t losing a little of that pride worth the pleasure that I’m giving you?” Had he expected an answer, he wouldn’t have received one.

Anderson found his body arching uncontrollably as the vampire changed the angle of his thrusts, the waves of resulting pleasure making his body act of its own volition. On each plunge that followed, the paladin made strangled groans, ashamed that his body was fast betraying him. Meanwhile, Alucard grinned with delight, taking in the sight of the man’s cock dribbling over his belly. More excited, the vampire picked up his pace, practically knocking the breath from the writhing man.

Although Alucard likely had the stamina to continue much longer, the paladin did not. Keening through gritted teeth, he emptied himself onto his belly in a shower of pearly fluid. Alucard continued to bury himself in the constricting passage until the tightness undid him. Growling, he poured cool seed into the priest’s bowels. Groaning as he withdrew, the vampire watched the trickle of fluid down the man’s crevice before allowing his legs to fall to the floor as he grunted.

Panting, Anderson frowned, all remaining pleasure having fled in the face of a lingering soreness. “When I get up from here, I am going to end your miserable life,” he growled.

Alucard smirked. “So much for pillow talk.”

End.

A Few of my Favorite Things

2008-02-10T03:39:33Z

I decided to make a post listing most of the fandoms/movies/etc. I am in love with. The fandoms I post about may shift in focus from time to time, but here is a list of the constants:

Anime & Manga

Fandoms: Bleach, Saiyuki, Yami no Matsuei, Revolutionary Girl Utena, Simoun, Tokyo Babylon, X/1999, Kyou Kara Maou, Samurai Champloo, Kino's Journey, Ouran High School Host Club, Welcome to the NHK, Haru wo Daiteita, Winter Cicada, Trinity Blood, Hellsing, Paranoia Agent, Rahxephon, Black Lagoon, ~~Aporro-sukidoji: The Legend of the Espada-fiend~~ Sukisho, Enzai, Melody of Oblivion, Azumanga Daioh, Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex, Mushishi, Last Exile, Story of Saiunkoku, My Sexual Harassment, Full Metal Alchemist, Trigun, Berserk, Pumpkin Scissors, Wolf's Rain, Bible Black, Urotsukidoji, Cromartie High School, Solty Rei, Mezzo, Mezzo Forte, Kite, Nee Sensei, Scrapped Princess, any yaoi/hentai manga I can find

I'm always open to new shows/manga, so make suggestions if you're passing by.

Favorite Characters:

Bleach: Sosuke Aizen, Kaname Tousen, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, Szayel Aporro Granz, Kenpachi Zaraki, Hollow Ichigo, Sado Yasutora (Chad), Yoruichi Shihouin, Kisuke Urahara, Zangetsu
Saiyuki: Ukoku Sanzo/Dr. Nii, Koumyou Sanzo, Genjo Sanzo, Hazel Grouse, Sha Gojyo
Yami no Matsuei: Kazutaka Muraki, Seiichiro Tatsumi, Asato Tsuzuki
Utena: Mikage Souji, Akio Ohtori, Anthy Ohtori, Ruka Tsuchiya
Tokyo Babylon/X: Seishirou Sakurazuka, Fuuma Monou, Subaru Sumeragi
Simoun: Dominura, Limones, Anubituf, Guragief, Waporif, Morinas
Kyou Kara Maou: Conrad, Yuuri, Gwendal, Gunter, Shiori
Ouran High School Host Club: Kyouya Ohtori, Tamaki Suoh, Takashi Morinozuka, Mitsukuni Haninozuka
and misc. others

Favorite Pairings:

Bleach: Aizen/Anyone, Anyone/Szayel, Kenpachi/Anyone, Grimmjow/Anyone, Tousen/Wonderweiss, Tousen/Grimmjow, Chad/Ichigo, Komamura/Tousen, Urahara/Yoruichi, Isshin/Ryuuken, Ishidacest, Espada/Espada
Saiyuki: Ukoku/Koumyou, Gojyo/Sanzo, Sanzo/Hakkai
Yami no Matsuei: Muraki/Hisoka, Muraki/Tsuzuki, Tatsumi/Muraki
Utena: Utena/Anthy, Mikage/Mamiya, Touga/Saionji, Akio/Anthy
Tokyo Babylon/X: Seishirou/Subaru, Fuuma/Kamui
Simoun: Dominura/Limones, Anubituf/Guragief, Waporif/Morinas, Nevirille/Aeru
Kyou Kara Maou: Conrad/Yuuri, Gwendal/Gunter, Gwendal/Conrad
Ouran High School Host Club: Tamaki/Kyouya, Tamaki/Kyouya/Haruhi, Mori/Honey

Crossover Pairings of Justice:

Homura/Aizen, Nii(Ukoku)/Szayel, Tatsumi/Tousen, Tousen/Hakkai, Mayuri/Muraki, Shunsui/Gojyo, Aizen/Akio, Kenpachi/Dokugakuji,

Note: I'll try almost any pairing that seems believable under the circumstances of the fic.

Other

Series: Babylon 5, CSI: Las Vegas, Rome,Law & Order, Law & Order: SVU, Iron Chef, Ninja Warrior (don't laugh, it's awesome), Star Trek: TOS & TNG

Movies: Curse of the Golden Flower, The Mission, Event Horizon, Infernal Affairs, The Departed, Kill Bill vol 1 & 2, Pulp Fiction, A Better Tomorrow, Memoirs of a Geisha, The Exiled, Dogma, Hard Boiled, LOTR trilogy, Star Wars IV-VI, misc asian films

Music: Tori Amos, Pink Floyd, Radiohead, Muse, Tool, The Toadies, A Perfect Circle, MCR, Garbage, Rammstein, The Killers, Within Temptation, Linkin Park, Sarah McLachlan, Marilyn Manson, misc. rock & alternative, misc J-Rock & anime-related music.

New Place

2008-02-09T20:20:49Z

This seems like a nice new place to try out. I'll upload some of my stories & musings here and see how things work out.