Sinner

A/N: Ha! I got this one out sooner then usual because it’s Mother’s Day. Yes, my mother reads my naughty stuff. Tee hee. Anyways, the boys may be a little more out of character then usual but that’s only because something had to give! I still tried to keep them recognizable. You guys know how much of a stickler I am for IC. I hope you enjoy.

Thank you to my reviewers! You know I love you lovelies, and I promise I will soon take the time to thank you all individually like I used to.
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Words, Words, Words

He sat huddled at the foot of his bed, his knees pressed to his chest and his arms wrapped around them, his small hands fisted in the white fabric of his pants. His teal eyes focused solely on the door in front of him, lost in a sort of trance. He felt small like this, even more so then usual. It caused a contradiction of emotions to swell inside of him. The feel of the fabric kneaded between his fingers, his sheets scrunched up under his toes, and the erratic rhythm of his heart beating through his chest and against his knees was almost comforting in a way. It grounded him, connected him to a world that he felt utterly lost in, and yet it reminded him of his insignificance. It taunted and tormented him with silent words of justified degradation, and not for the first time he was reminded of who he used to be. He had had power. He had been able to fight. He had been able to validate his reasons for the respect that he had demanded, because he had deserved it.

He had deserved it.

Now…now he was nothing. He was a mere plaything for those who were more powerful and far crueler then he could ever hope or want to be, and he knew it. The same words in different variations repeated over and over in his head. You are nothing. You are pathetic. Different phrases all with the same meaning, and still, he was aware enough to realize that the fact that he had spent the last few weeks--or months, he wasn’t sure-- harping on his own demise from a state of power was pathetic in its own right, and if he had been just a little more like his captor he would have perhaps chuckled at that.

But he didn’t laugh. He didn’t have the stomach for it. So instead he stared at the door.

Still, the one thing that he could not get over at this very moment was the fact that though he was utterly defeated and helpless and trapped in a world that he could not defend himself in, none of that truly seemed to matter at the moment. No, the only thing that mattered, though it terrified him to admit it, was whether or not a certain fox would be walking through that very door that now held his rapt attention.

He…wanted to see him, needed it even. He needed the proof that Ichimaru was alright, that the fucker hadn’t throw his loyalty out the window and been severely punished for it. He wanted to see him alive, not dead on the cold floor of this hellhole or fucked into nothingness by that monster. No, no, he had to see him, because he wanted answers. He wanted to know why. He wanted an honest answer from the master of lies about why he had risked everything for Hitsugaya. He felt he had to have it like he had to have his next breath of air, because he wasn’t going to let a demon save his life and not understand the reason behind it.

May the Gods damn him, he wanted Ichimaru to walk through the door even more then he wanted to get out of this eternal nightmare.

And he was ashamed for it.

Ashamed, because there was still that small part of who he used to be that screamed out for his hatred, that still reminded him of everything that man had done to him. That voice pleaded with him to realize that whether or not Ichimaru had saved his life the man was still sin personified behind shut eyes and a wide smile, and for that reason he did not deserve Hitsugaya’s concern.

And Hitsugaya was no longer listening to that voice. It grew weaker and weaker in its conviction to the point where Hitsugaya could only hear it enough to be ashamed for his actions, but not swayed to act otherwise. He was no longer Hitsugaya Toshiro, captain of the 10th division in the elite Gotei 13.

He was a nameless boy, trapped in a room, scared shitless for the man that never failed to make his heart race.

He could not specify how he felt towards Ichimaru Gin, and even when he tried to think of the proper phrase for these emotions the words grew sticky in his throat like bile…and yet, it did not change the way he felt. Even if he could not name it, it was there, confusing the whole living fuck out of him and making his knees weak.

So that’s why, when that door finally opened and in stepped the man who had taken everything he was away from him, he did not think. He did not even hesitate as he pushed himself off the bed and threw his petite arms around that thin waist. He didn’t even realize he had done it until he felt the soft fabric of Ichimaru’s robe pressed against his cheek, and even when he did realize, despite feeling slightly sickened by his actions, he did not pull away and instead hid the blush that grew rapidly on his cheeks in the folds of Ichimaru’s clothes.

He did not look up. He couldn’t, not yet.

“You fucking bastard, why the hell would you do that!?” Were the only words that he could think to say that he would actually allow to leave his mouth. They were muffled slightly by the fabric.

“Are ya blind, chibi?” He stiffened at those words. Something was wrong, he could tell by the tone of Ichimaru’s voice. Finally he did look up and his teal eyes were met with wide crimson ones and something in that expression, devoid of any hint of amusement, shattered his heart completely. There was not a scratch on the man, no mark of torture, and yet he was broken, Aizen had broken him and Hitsugaya felt himself breaking as well and he cursed himself for it, because it seemed that finally Ichimaru had lost, finally the man had gotten everything he had deserved, and it was killing Hitsugaya.

“What did he do to you?” Hitsugaya rasped out, his voice betraying him as he was held in place by those eyes, so rarely seen and so full of pain.

“Does it truly matter ta ya?” Again that voice, that nearly emotionless voice that sent dread coursing through him. He didn’t know how to respond to that question. He didn’t trust himself to answer.

Yes, god dammit, of course it matters!

“You risked your life for me.”

Before he could think he was pressed harshly up against one of the walls, his body hoisted up and his legs forced to wrap around Ichimaru’s waist. His breath had caught in his throat and he nearly choked on the bitter surprise. Never had Ichimaru been so rough with him. Never had he shown no care when handling Hitsugaya. His back stung as he felt some of his wounds reopen and he hissed in pain, and the only thing that brought him some form of comfort was the look of equal agony reflected in the red eyes that stared intently into his own, only this pain was nowhere near physical.

“Ya think it was only my life, brat?” There was anger, anger and resentment that he had never heard in those words.

“I would know it you told me!” Hitsugaya shot back, his legs still wrapped around the other man’s waist and he didn’t even take the time to wonder why he didn’t try to struggle out of that firm hold. He could always blame it on the pain later anyways.

“O’ Neko, don’ assume that I owe ya anything.” Ichimaru hissed, his breath fanning hotly across Hitsugaya’s lips, making the smaller form shiver uncontrollably. “Don’ assume that ya mean enough ta me fer me ta feel obligated ta tell ya anything.

“You’re lying!”

Hitsugaya gasped at his own words, wishing almost immediately that he could take them back. He wasn’t sure why he said it, or what Ichimaru’s reaction would be, but the words had left his mouth before he had time to stop them, and now that there was no taking them back, he might as well say it all.

“You’re lying to me, you bastard. Is that all you can do is hide behind your deceitful words? Have you ever once told the truth in your entire life!? You can toy with me. You can torment me, but don’t save my life and then tell me that I mean absolutely nothing to you. Don’t do that, don’t fucking l-”

His vision clouded as he felt his head crack against the wall from the force of the slap. His hand rose to his cheek, his eyes widening as he felt the heat of the sting against the skin of his hand. He was still balanced between the wall and Ichimaru’s body, his legs still wrapped around the fox man’s waist. He didn’t speak, he didn’t do anything as he turned his head to look at Ichimaru, his eyes wide and questioning. Ichimaru looked almost as shocked as Hitsugaya did, his long, pale hand still held high from where he had slapped Hitsugaya. His breathing was slightly harsh and Hitsugaya felt any anger he might have felt slowly dissipate as he took in the other man’s expression. He had never seen this person before. This was not Ichimaru standing in front of him. It may have looked like him, spoke like him, and smelled like him, but this was not a side of him that Hitsugaya had ever seen. Ichimaru was all-knowing, and this man seemed lost. He jumped slightly when he felt Ichimaru’s fingers gently cup his cheek, but he did not pull away.

“What do ya want me ta say, Shiro-chan?” Ichimaru breathed out, his voice low, almost dangerous. “Do ya want me ta tell ya that I want ya? That I’ve wanted ya from tha moment I saw that beautiful little body o’ yers and that snotty attitude? That I’ve memorized yer scent? Yer face? The exact color o’ yer eyes? Do ya want me ta run my fingers through yer hair and tell ya that ya mean more ta me then anything else in tha world? That you’re worth throwing away everything I’ve built fer myself? Is that what ya want ta hear? Is that what will make yer knees wobble and yer cock harden? Is that the truth ya want, ya little bitch?

“That’s not what I said! Don’t put words into my mouth.” Hitsugaya panted out in a near panic, Ichimaru’s words sending a pang of desperation down his spine.

“Now who’s lyin’, Shiro?” There was dark amusement in Ichimaru’s voice and Hitsugaya wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved or terrified that that wide grin was back in place and a glimmer of the usual Ichimaru was starting to show through once more. “If yer gonna demand honesty from me, then it’s only natural if I demand tha same from ya. So, tell me, are those tha words ya wanna hear?”

“Ichimaru, I-”

“Are they o’ are they not?”

“Yes.” Hitsugaya said after a moment of hesitation and he could feel Ichimaru stiffen around him. “If those words are true then yes, I want to hear them.” He spoke softly, his heart beating too loud in his ears for him to hear them, but he was positive that Ichimaru did. It was his turn to stiffen as he heard Ichimaru chuckle.

“Is that so? Well then, it’s too bad that lyin’ is tha only thing I truly know how ta do.”

“Tell me. Tell me why you saved me.” He was frustrated, pissed to shit that this man refused to give him a straight answer. It wasn’t just that he felt he owned Hitsugaya, there was more to it. There had to be!

“Call it a whim.”

“Bullshit!”

“Always, Taicho.”

Hitsugaya’s breath hitched as he felt one of Ichimaru’s cool hands begin to slide up under his shirt, bringing the material up along with it. This time he did try to squirm out of Ichimaru’s hold, even as his fingers left trails of hot fire in their wake. He was quickly stilled by Ichimaru’s other hand quickly coming down to clasp his hip and hold him firmly in place.

“Play nice now, Yuki-hime.”

Hitsugaya cried out softly as he felt his shirt being lifted completely over his head only then to be used as leverage to bind his arms together. He began to shake violently as Ichimaru removed his hand from his hip to circle one pink nipple, and against his own volition he threw his head back against the wall at the sensations it sent coursing through his body.

“Ya got tha prettiest little nipples, Shiro-chan. Look at tha way they respond ta me.”

He gritted his teeth at the taunting in those words and he was brought to his senses as he tilted his head forward to glare at Ichimaru.

“Bastard, what in the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

“I woul’ think it woul’ be quite obvious.” Ichimaru whispered against his lips before the silver haired man bent his head to take the bud he had just been teasing into his mouth. It was like electricity was sent through every part of Hitsugaya’s petite form as he spasmed in the man’s arms, His legs unconsciously tightening around Ichimaru’s waist as he let out a yelp of surprised pleasure. He barely registered the feel of Ichimaru’s grin against his skin before a single finger grazed down his abdomen to trace teasingly around his belly button as Ichimaru’s tongue continued to flick skillfully against the tightening skin in his mouth.

He couldn’t handle this. It was too hot. His body was on fire and that asshole was touching him in ways no one else had ever dared to do. He felt his arousal begin to climb as his usually loose pants began to tighten under the strain. He knew Ichimaru could feel it. There was no way to hide it with those thin pants and Ichimaru was too perceptive anyways.

“Looky looky, kitty.” Ichimaru crooned before pressing forward, his hips rubbing sensuously against Hitsugaya’s own in indication that he had indeed felt what Hitsugaya had feared, and the small captain knew that his cheeks were reddening as he let out a whimper at the heat that threatened to suffocate him.

“Ichimaru, stop!” He cried out desperately, knowing somehow that if it didn’t stop now it might not ever.

Ichimaru lifted his head to look at him, and even though for a moment he seemed like the old Ichimaru, Hitsugaya could tell that there was an air of impatience and frustration surrounding him.

“Is that all ya can ever say, taicho? If I’m only good at lyin’ are ya only good at beggin’?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because even though ya will never admit it. Even though you constantly beg me ta stop, ya want this. Ya want me more than anything ya hav’ ever wanted, and I’m tired o’ waitin’ fer ya ta say it.”

“No-”

“No. No more waitin’. Ya want tha truth? Well, then let me lay it down perfectly clear fer ya. I hurt, more than I ever hav’ in my entire life, and right now ya can make it stop o’ ya can hurt along with me. So, what’s it gonna be, Toshiro?”

He stilled at those words and simply stared into the eyes that refused to break contact with him, eyes that needed an answer almost as much as he needed one, and maybe it was because Ichimaru had finally said his name without the teasing behind it or maybe it was the confession that Ichimaru was able to feel anything other than greed, but Hitsugaya’s lips could no longer form the word “no”. His eyes slid closed as Ichimaru dipped his head to brush his lips against the skin of his neck, his tongue darting out to taste him.

“Tell me.” Ichimaru whispered, his lips trailing upwards to tease the skin of his ear.

“What?” Hitsugaya breathed, his eyes still closed as he fought internally for the strength to hold onto his newly found conviction.

“Tell me you want me.” Hitsugaya’s lips parted as Ichimaru bit down on the sensitive skin of his ear. His mouth was suddenly so dry, the words stuck in his throat, but then Ichimaru said it. Said the word that sounded so strange coming out of the man’s mouth, the word that tipped proud Hitsugaya-taicho over the edge.

“Please.”

There was absolute silence as both of them breathed deeply, and then…

“I want you.”

Hitsugaya didn’t have time to regret the words before lips were pressed against his own and his mouth was claimed in a soul-stealing kiss.