Blurred Lines

Kira





Ikkaku has made himself scarce the last few days and it’s vaguely upsetting. I say vaguely, because I see him roaming around, filling his position, and he comes home at night, so he’s not laying in a ditch somewhere or fooling around. I hope. But he arrives at the last second before supper is served, eats while grunting at my attempts at conversation, then makes up some crap about work and vanishes into his office or goes right to bed.



Without me. Which is probably the most upsetting thing about the whole situation. He hasn’t touched me in over a week, since we had that great night. Or maybe I should say, I had that great night. Obviously he didn’t enjoy it as much as I did, or he would have come back for more, right? While I don’t want to do that every night, once in a while is nice, and the pampering I got all night and the next day were pretty fun too.



He says he loves me but he won't touch me. Even when I tried to snuggle up to him to read, he eased away gently and left the house. I haven’t tried again. I don’t want to chase him out of his own home, but… But. This is my home too.



It’s getting late and I should head back. Practice is called and the men line up for a quick inspection, just to make sure everyone is in the same condition they arrived in. Tetsummi calls salutes and they move in unison. Pride swells in my chest and I grin stupidly at them. I did that, made them into a disciplined team; even if we aren’t the best, at least we aren't the worst either.



Tempting, to stay a little later, run through some more practice with Wabisuke. But she’s been a regular bitch lately and I’d have to chase her down and drag her out kicking and screaming before we could even start to work on Bankai. Kind of pisses me off when she pulls crap like that, as if I don’t have enough to do just trying to reach Bankai before Yumichika.



I’m not staying, fuck it. Feels nice to swear so I do so out-loud. “Fuck you, you witch. You just keep being a pain and you can serve under Fujikujaku aaaalllll by yourself, because I’m leaving you with him. Ha!”



A shudder suddenly runs through me and I feel icy fingers trail the nape of my neck. Don’t worry, we’ll both serve under him and over him and in front of him too. The bitch laughs and flits away before I can grab at her. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?



I growl and my palms itch to wrap around her neck. Skank.



Whore. She always knows exactly where to strike. Were you wondering why Ikkaku can’t bear to touch you? I snarl wordlessly at her voice. He’s discovered what you’re really like and he’s just too nice to kick you out directly.



Not true, that is not true! That’s not true. He’s just working too hard. Mocking laughter and she fades, having caused her share of hurt for the day. She must have been in a particularly bad mood, she’s not usually so vicious. Doubt, I must not let doubt cloud my eyes.



He loves me. He must love me. Of course he does. How could he not! There, I’ve made myself laugh at least. I sound more and more like Yumichika every day. And if nothing else, Ikkaku loves Yumichika more than anything, even a good fight. He bends and bends and bends some more to meet every little whim.



Some days, it makes me sick to my stomach to watch them, laughing and happy, and to watch them go silent when they notice me. It’s not that I’m not welcome, but they have been together longer than I’ve been alive and I will never have the claim my dark headed opponent has.



Never.



My shoulders slump forward and I start to slog my way back, barely lifting my feet from the ground. Strong arms are so familiar, the reitsu such a part of my day to day life, I don’t even notice I’ve been lifted until my feet dangle high above the ground. “Tetsummi!” I cling desperately to his neck, though he would never drop me. Never, ever. “What are you doing?”



“I thought you would stay behind and practice, so I stayed too. I’ll take you home.” No room for argument, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. Leaning on someone else for a moment, letting someone else carry me for a few seconds, isn’t so bad. “You’re working too hard.”



“Tetsummi.” A deep sigh from both of us, exasperated by our individual stubbornness; we’ve had this discussion before. “As soon as I make Captain, I’ll slack all day long, ok?” A dark brow rises skeptically and I laugh and ruffle the long hair at the base of his neck. “I promise, at least for a week or two.”



His head turns and we stare at each other as he opens his mouth to speak from an inch away. A throat clearing makes us turn our attention to the bald man standing in the path, hands on his hips. “Interrupting?” Tetsummi immediately turns a deep red and starts to put me down.



I cling to his shoulders and tap the base of his skull. He stops and stands holding me against his chest. “Why no, not at all. We were just on our way home. Care to join us or do you have work?” My voice is low and snotty, because I’m still angry with him for ignoring me all week, even if it might be my fault. “Or maybe something else to keep you away tonight?”



It’s not fair to use Tetsummi like this but I can’t resist. “Kira, get over here.” He sounds angry but I don't stop. Some force is moving my mouth without my consent.



Or maybe I just would never normally be so aggressive. I guess Wabisuke affected me more strongly than I thought. “No. I don’t belong to you. Tetsummi, shall we continue?” Poor Tetsummi, he’s looking between us nervously but he gamely steps forward and around Ikkaku, careful not to brush up against him. We don’t speak again until the door to my house slides open with a nudge of a big foot. “I’m sorry, Tetsummi. That was bad of me.”



My cheeks burn and he smiles. “No, it’s fine. He’s been rather short tempered himself lately.” My head ducks even further. A big hand combs my bangs gently behind my ear. “Don’t worry.” He leans in and whispers against my cheek. “He loves you.” A tear sneaks away from me and is brushed away quickly.



Tetsummi, loyal and strong, always on my side, no matter what. Why couldn’t I just fall in love with you? “Thank you.” I wish he didn’t love me as fiercely as he does because my chest hurts when he just smiles and pats my head before walking away.



I watch for a minute then slide inside, closing the door quietly behind me. I should make supper, at least pretend I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten anything in the past few days, my stomach too tied up to handle anything other than water. And Ikkaku might come home, and he’ll be hungry. A tiny smile. He’s always hungry.



A meal is simple to prepare and I set out two places. While I sit and listen for familiar footsteps, I stare at the wall. What if he really doesn’t love me anymore? Is it because I’m weird and like strange things in bed? I know it is odd to like to be ordered around, because when I listen to other men talking about sex, it’s not like that. They never speak of pain, of not having a choice, of following blindly and hoping it doesn’t kill you.



Though, I don’t have that anymore either. But what if he did hate it? What if he was disgusted that I was so excited? That I enjoyed it so much? I don’t even realize I’m crying until a tear drops from my chin to splash on the table and my hand. Silent tears trail my cheeks as I raise a hand to touch them, curious about when they started.



The door opens abruptly and I turn, startled. Ikkaku stands there, staring at me, horrified. “Kira? Kira, what did he do?”



“No, nothing! Nothing, I’m fine. I, I just, have a headache. From training and it’s gotten worse all of a sudden.” I don’t know if he believes me but he steps forward and tips my face upwards with a warm hand.



I love the way his skin feels against mine, always so hot and soothing. His eyes narrow briefly but he lets go quickly, as if he can’t stand to touch me. As if I’m dirty. “Your eyes look fine. Did you hit your head?” I shake my bangs into my face, more to hide behind than to answer his question. “Well, if it gets worse, go see the Fourth.” I nod briefly. May as well agree.



“Are you hungry?” At least my voice sounds normal. His chair creaks as he settles in and I silently pass the dishes to his side of the table. We eat in awkward silence, our breathing sounding too loud in the small room. I take the dishes as he finishes and wash quietly.



A deep swallow and I turn to lean on the counter, watching him drink the last of his sake and flip through a book I was reading this morning at breakfast. “Ikkaku?” He grunts and I dig my teeth into my lip hard enough to draw blood. “Um, are you, I mean, um, are you coming to bed?”



He doesn’t even look up. “No, not yet. I’m going out later for a bit.” Of course he is.



“Oh.” My voice trails off and I raise my chin determinedly. “Well, do you want to have a bath before you go?” If he’s going to turn me away, at least I can say I offered.



“Naw. When I come back.” He's still staring at the wall, fingers tight around his glass. Air refuses to come and I turn away, scrambling to get to the bedroom before I collapse.



He doesn’t even stand as I slam the door behind me. I hate him and that just makes my chest hurt more. Pain pounds in my head as I sob into a pillow, muffling my cries stubbornly. The last thing I want is him to come in and feel pity towards me.



It feels like hours pass in uneasy silence until I crawl out of the blanket and sneak to the door. The room is empty when I peek out and I slink to the bath. Warm water is soothing but not the same as gentle arms and I cry some more before sliding into bed, exhausted.



A restless sleep and I jolt awake at the sound of the door opening quietly. A wash of casual power precedes him to the bath. I count seconds and about fifteen minutes later, he moves to the bedroom door and I feel him hesitate for a second, then turn to the second room. Why doesn’t he want me anymore? I haven’t changed, I’m the same as I was last week.



I still love him.



A few minutes and I slip out of bed and pad to the wall, where I press my ear. The quiet shuffle of clothing and the clink of Hozukimaru being set to the side are clearly audible through the thin walls, followed by him lying on the bed. Should I go to him? What if he sends me away again? But if I don’t, nothing will change. We’ll live together, strangers hating each other more and more every day, and it will kill us both.



My eyes flutter closed as I tap down any reitsu. I glide out the door and sneak into the next room. He doesn’t move, just lays still, breathing evenly. But he’s awake, I can feel it, sense it in the stiff line of his body. My fingers find him first, trailing over his side and chest as I sit on the edge of the bed. “Kira.”



“Yes, Ikkaku?” He rolls easily under my hand and I lean into him, kissing his collar gently. As always, I fit perfectly into the curve of his waist, my groin snug against his hip. Light thrusts rub me gently against him and I start to harden, purring against his throat.



“Kira.” It’s a long sigh and I snuggle closer, hands exploring his strong chest and rippled stomach, trailing each ridge as I skim down. His hand captures mine but I avoid him with the other, reaching down to cup him. “Kira, stop.”



He’s soft, not even a bit of interest in my groping. A tear slides over my cheek and I pull away, humiliated. How could this happen? Am I so much of a freak that I don’t deserve his love anymore? “Izuru…” I yank my hand from his loose grip and stumble to my feet, choking on sobs.



I don’t even bother trying to hide them, just stagger to the door and lean for a second before pushing it open. “Kira, wait!” He’s standing, following me.



“No.” The ache in my head threatens to overwhelm me and my chest feels like it might burst. “Stay away from me.” I can barely speak and he follows, ignoring me. I scream at him, nausea rising at this final disregard for my wishes. “Get away!”



“Kira, sweetheart.” I dry retch at the old endearment, leaning desperately on the door to keep from collapsing. “Izuru, calm down.”



I can hear him approaching carefully, feel his power wash over me, warm and soothing. Like for a pet. “Ikkaku, stop.” He slows but keeps coming, inching along until he can almost touch me, the heat from his hand soaking into my cheek in the instant before he touches me. “Madarame.”



He’s frozen, millimeters away, so close I can feel the air move as his hand tremors. “Izuru, no, sweetheart, darling, no, don’t say that.”



One step. That’s all I need, just one step and I’ll be free. My hand crawls along the wall, shaking fingers clinging to every crack, needing any purchase they can find. Finally, the tips slip around the corner and I pull, forcing my shivering body to move, away from him. A heavy thud comes from behind me but I don’t look back. I can’t. “Izuru, please!” Please, please, anyone, give me the strength to keep going. Just one more step. “I love you!”



I choke and fall, slamming into the floor, the crack of my knees hitting echoing in the room. Why is he doing this to me? Why is he lying? Ikkaku never used to be so cruel. Did I make him like this? “Why? Why are you hurting me like this?” I can’t hear his response, the dull pound of pain in my ears blocking his voice. “Why don’t you want me anymore?”





Ikkaku





What the fuck was that? Damn Tetsummi, he’s so much closer than I ever will be. He was there through it all, picked my Kira up and brushed him off, wrapped his wounds and bathed his body. As grateful as I am, I hate him. I can admit I’m jealous, ugly though it is. But Kira clings to his neck as if it is a lifeline and I can see in the deep eyes that Tetsummi would die before letting go. I let them pass by without interfering.



He isn’t…No. Kira may be upset with me, but he wouldn’t cheat. I don’t think he even knows about those kinds of games; he’s too innocent for his own good some days. Even after a week, even after talking it all out with Yume, who for once sat still and listened, I still feel like a complete asshole.



Somehow, making Kira scream has become this wonderful thing, to feel him helpless is so sexy, so irresistible, I can’t trust myself not to hurt him. Even if he wants it. I’ve been avoiding him, trying to figure out what is wrong with me, but he makes it…difficult, to put it mildly. Following me around the house, talking through every meal, he’s very stubborn.



I know I’m hurting him with my distance but I needed a few days and somehow, I can’t get close again. At first, I told myself it was because he was hurt and babied him. Spoiled him pretty badly but he’s so cute and grins so prettily. Then, he was stiff and I didn’t want to hurt him, and it just got worse.



Now, he barely looks at me, just offers to come to bed in that tiny voice of his, the one he uses when he tries not to cry. It’s as if he can’t think of another way to be useful other than sex. I hate that. I hate the way his self esteem falls every time I frown, the way he blames himself for anything that goes wrong. The way he feels useless and helpless in his own home.



All I wanted was to give him a safe place, somewhere he can come back to and escape the world for a bit. But he’s under more pressure here than anywhere else. He seems to feel that he has to be perfect and smiling all the time, no matter what I do to show him it doesn’t matter.



I love him anyway.



He’s waiting for an answer, barely breathing, leaning so adorably on the counter. “No, not yet. I’m going out later for a bit.” I want to, fuck I want to, but I won't let him play that role. I won't let him use his body as a bargaining chip.



“Oh.” His voice is so thin, I ache to reach for him and clench my glass so hard I think it might break. “Well, do you want to have a bath before you go?” Fuck, he’s making me crazy. My dick is throbbing and I shift uncomfortably before answering.



I glare at the wall stubbornly; I won’t give in damn it. “Naw. When I come back.” I hear the faint gasp of his breath before his steps dart for the bedroom, the door snapping shut behind him. I stand and follow to lay a hand on the door, listening to him cry. I hate myself, for bringing him this far, for turning him away, but I can’t stand the thought of his playing the martyr to me.



I slide away on silent feet, rinse my dishes and slip out. A hard run for an hour before Yume joins me, pacing me as we run around the Seireitei. It’s a comfortable silence, the quiet of friends who understand and don’t need any kind of explanation. When I fall to pant in the dust, Yume just brushes his hair out of his face and plants his skinny ass on my stomach.



“Well?” Little sandals are kicked off and small feet tap a beat on my thighs. How he can be so tiny and so tough is beyond me.



I groan and raise my head enough to watch him examine a slightly rough patch on a nail. “He hates me.”



“No he doesn’t.” Now he’s rummaging through his belt for a file; where the hell does he keep these things? “If he hated you, I’d have taken him. He is quite pretty.” Always so practical, my fruitcake. “Anyways, did you fuck him?” And vulgar. Better add vulgar to that.



“You pervert, that’s all you wanted to know.” An annoyed huff and I swat at his hip. “Who did you bet with this time?” Satisfied humming and he files away, examining every swipe of the metal. “Whatever. No, I didn’t. And you know it.”



Soft chuckling and he reaches back to pat my chest. “Of course I do. Why do you think I bet against it?” Another groan is met with delighted laughter and we just lay there, staring at the sky, lights of the city to our backs.



I wish we were still wanderers, still just us roaming the world. Life was easier, kill whoever got in our way, gambling, fighting for money. Simpler. But then I would never have met Kira. And looking at Yume smiling in the moonlight, I know he wouldn’t trade Shuhei for anything, not even to be free again. Hell, maybe not even me. “Ikka?”



“Yeah?” I sit up, folding one arm around his waist to shift him forward to sit in my lap. “What is it?”



“I’m glad we came here.” I blink at him; I didn’t know he ever regretted it. Even before he chose a lover and was lonely, he always seemed fairly happy to be here. “Even if you stole Kira from me.” My lips tip upwards, then part in a bark of laughter. “What?”



“You’re such a weirdo.” He would hate being with Kira, and we both know it. “Come on, let’s go home.” Annoyance radiates from the rigid back and the tossed hair. I ruffle the perfect strands and take off at an easy lope, letting him chase me while he tries to fix his precious hair.



I stand outside and breathe. I can feel Izuru sleeping restlessly in our room and sneak into the house and down the all to the bathroom. A few seconds to wash my face and brush my teeth before I climb into the bath. Kira is awake now and I stroke myself to his imagined breathing. I groan quietly, muffled against my arm as my hips jerk forward and I come to the remembered feel of his mouth on my skin. Quick and efficient, that’s the way to do it.



Just letting his power flow over me makes me start to harden again as I wash up. A quiet sigh and I jerk myself off again. Who would have thought masturbating could actually become a chore? A quick towel off and I step into the hall. My hand hovers against the wood of the door to the room we used to share, trembling with the effort not to push. I finally yank myself away and shut the door firmly behind me in my chosen room.



The extra room is cool from being shut up and I open a window to let some of the summer heat in. I can hear Izuru roaming around, probably pressed to the wall, listening to me get ready for bed. The blanket folds around me neatly and I try to relax. But I can sense him wandering, feel his fretting through thin walls, and finally hear his quiet steps approaching. My eyes open with the door and I’m glad I’m facing the wall.



A soft pressure dips the bed as he settles beside me, shaking fingers trailing my side. “Kira.” Gentle pushes and I let him roll me to my back, slender hands wandering my chest as he snuggles into the dip of my side.



He pushes against me, blond bangs tickling over my collar as he investigates the curve of my neck. “Yes, Ikkaku?” Oh fuck, he smells good, clean and faintly spicy as he snuggles against me.



I try to grab his hands but he skitters away and continues petting me, his hips moving against my side. “Kira.” Pale eyes watch me from under pale lashes as he hardens and slides his hand under the blanket to stroke my cock. “Kira, stop.” I don’t want to hurt his feelings but after twice in a row, it’ll take more than a quick grope to make me hard.



And fuck, he’s crying. Slow, silent tears that make me let go when he pulls away, face bright red. “Izuru…” Pain blossoms in my chest and I choke on his name as he sobs once and stumbles as he reaches for the door. Not quite there, he stops to lean on the wall, panting harshly before taking a choking gasp. “Kira, wait!” I’m on my feet, tripping over the blanket tangled in my legs, trying to get to him, to make him stop this.



His voice shakes so hard I can barely make out what he’s saying. “No. Stay away from me.” As if I could stop, just leave him crying like this. “Get away!” I’m forced to stop out of shock; Kira never yells. Ever.



“Kira, sweetheart.” His waist bends as he gags, tears dripping to the floor with a steady, heartbreaking ‘plop.’ I push out as much power as I can control, forcing quiet through my own panic. “Izuru, calm down.” A few more steps, slow and cautious as I reach out to touch his cheek. If I can just get my hands on him, we’ll be fine.



“Ikkaku, stop.” Never. The heat from his tears and hurt radiates from his face, washing over my fingers before I can brush tears away. “Madarame.”



No.



I’m there, almost, almost! “Izuru, no, sweetheart, darling, no, don’t say that.” Please, please, don’t say that. Don’t say that I’m hurting you so badly you can’t stand it. I never wanted you to say that. Even when you did before, I knew you were just testing it out. But not now. Please, don’t let this be real.



But it is. Shaking, white fingers edge along the wall, clinging as they drag him forward. I call to him as I fall, hand still outstretched, not even using the other to break my fall. “Izuru, please!” Kneeling, I call the only thing that might stop him. “I love you!”



He falls, the crack when he hits the floor so loud I think he might have broken something. But he doesn’t care, just sobs into the floor. “Why? Why are you hurting me like this?”



“Izuru, I’m sorry, I didn’t” It’s as if I’m not speaking. He isn’t listening, just talking over me.



“Why don’t you want me anymore?”



I want to die. For the first time in my life, I don’t want to live anymore. Somehow, in my bid to show him I don’t need only his body, I’ve hurt him. Maybe more deeply than Gin ever could, because at least he knew Gin didn’t love him. I’m on my feet and stomp over, ignoring his cries and the batting hands, the small feet kicking frantically as I scoop him up and carry him back to the bed. “Izuru, stop right now.”



“Let me go!” A sharp elbow slams into my side and I grunt at the force, then smack his hip lightly, just hard enough to sting. “Madarame!”



I grin, more a baring of teeth than any kind of smile. “Oh no, too late for that.” I lean in and speak directly into his face, making certain he can’t avoid me. “There will be nothing between us tonight. No safe words and no denying.”



“Stop it, let me go.” But his voice has faded and he stares up with wet, terrified eyes. I wonder how often he’s heard that phrase. “Ikkaku, please.”



I almost release him then but I cling to him, pulling him tighter into my arms. “No. I love you. So fucking much, it makes me crazy and a bastard, but I still love you. I need you, I want you, and I will never let you go, no matter how hard you fight me.”



Quiet little whimpers and he shudders against me. “Stop it. Don’t lie.” The skinny body relaxes completely, arms falling to rest in his lap. “Don’t pity me. I’m a freak.”



What? “Why?” Tears keep falling and I lick them away, holding his chin tightly to keep him still. “What makes you think you’re a freak?” We might actually get somewhere tonight.



Long lashes flutter against my lips, brushing the tip of my tongue. I would laugh, and maybe I will later, but now there are more pressing things to see to. I can’t hear him, though his lips move. My nose traces the curve of his ear as I whisper for him to repeat himself. “I like it.” I hum into his skin as I kiss his closed eyes, red cheeks, the tip of his nose. “I like when you hurt me.”



Oh. My eyes fall closed and I lean my forehead against his. “Then I am too.” Because I like to hurt him as much as he likes it. There, I’m starting to get used to the idea.



Instant denial as his head shakes under mine, long bangs falling into my eyes and my mouth. “Oh, no, Ikkaku! You’re normal, it’s me. I’m weird and I don’t deserve you to have to be with me.”



“You make me crazy.” A questioning noise and he glances up at me curiously, tears drying slowly. A final swipe of my tongue and he sniffles against my shoulder. “Why is everything that goes wrong about you? Can’t we both just be freaks together?” A watery laugh and I grin triumphantly. “I love you, freak or not.”



Pale hands scrub at his cheeks, making them more red. “Love you too.” Another sniff. “You’re not mad at me? You don’t think I’m disgusting?”



“Of course not.” Of all the ridiculous things. At least he’s pretty much calmed down. Crying drives me insane, whether it’s Kira or Yume. “Go to sleep. You’re tired.” He curls into me, thin hands clinging to my shoulders.



Soft breathing against my shoulder and I pet his hair. I doubt he’s okay, but he’s worn himself out the last week and now he wants to believe me so badly, he’ll just tell himself things are fine. I sigh quietly and ease him down to lay beside me. “You’re beautiful.” He won't hear me but it makes me feel better to say it. “I love you. I’ll never leave you.”



Even if he leaves, I’ll follow him. My hand fits perfectly across his belly as I tug him closer, wrapping myself around him. For now, we’ll sleep.