The Sweetest Downfall

a/n: Wow. I'm surprised by how many people are actually interested in this. It's a pet project of mine, so I mostly wrote it for myself, so I'm happy to see that it intrigues others as well!

Thanks to NovaAlexandria (Thank you! That's the best compliment I could hope for!), MasterAkira (Don't worry, I'm not a big fan of an abused Kira, so it's not all that it appears to be!), Yakumo, Kuromei, Lynzee, satterb and RiddimMistress. I enjoyed each and every review!

BTW, the doujinshi is called Nijiiro Sunshine by Koiwazurai Shibito and the one I read was scanlated by Dangerous Pleasure, an awesome scanlation group that I follow religiously, in case anyone was interested in looking it up. This story shares some similarities with it, but I sorta took the plot a step further than the doujinshi goes.

Enjoy!

The Sweetest Downfall
Part Two – Breaking Slowly

Renji wasn't entirely sure what he was doing here. And he knew it was outside of the rules. He was nowhere high enough in rank to be standing right here, fist raised to knock. But Renji was going to do it anyway. Because he couldn't take it anymore. Kira was falling apart right in front of his eyes, and he had to do something about it. That look in his friend's eyes had been the final straw.

What kind of friend would he be if he just ignored it? Oh, sure he could go to some higher-up. But who would believe his words over another captain's? Aizen-taichou, maybe. And Ukitake-taichou, he was pretty dependable. But then, how would that affect Kira? Would he be dismissed from his position? He'd worked damn hard to get that promotion, and Renji didn't want to be the cause of that seat being taken from him.

If he could just get to the source of the problem, then everything would be fixed. Right? So all he had to do was knock on this damn door. And stand his ground. Even if he was of a significantly lower rank and pretty much an insect in any captain's eyes.

He'd already gone over his options, hadn't he? Who could he tell? And the chance of his being able to successfully pressure Ichimaru was less than zero.

Renji could leave. It wasn't outside of his answer choice. He could turn on his heel, walk away without a word, and pretend he'd never even come here in the first place. He could forget he'd ever seen those bleeding marks, and forget the smile he remembered from the Academy. And forget the strength he was certain that his friend possessed somewhere beneath the burden Ichimaru had buried him under.

He could so easily walk away. And that was where his pride balked. Would he accept this defeat? In the end, which broke his honor more? Which was the greater shame? Could he stomach another failure?

He thought of Rukia, whose eyes should have held nothing but happiness, and yet she seemed to be wallowing in disappointment and sadness. He had walked away then, hadn't he? Would he do the same now?

What had he come here to do?

Renji's knuckles fell forward, but before they even landed on the wood, the door swung open. A thin shadow graced the doorway, dressed in a simple yukata. And Ichimaru Gin grinned at him, leaning one slender limb against the frame.

“Ah, Abarai-kun,” he said, and the purr sent strange shivers down Renji's back, disgust or something darker, he didn't know which. “Ta what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Renji gathered what courage he possessed and squared his shoulders, effecting a determination he wasn't certain his shaking knees could back up. Even restrained, Ichimaru's reiatsu was an impressive force. And he suspected that the captain was purposefully letting bits of it loose to rattle him.

He attempted politeness, though just the sight of the captain was enough to make him snarl inwardly. “Apologies fer the lateness of my visit, Ichimaru-taichou. But I wanted ter talk to ya.”

“Oh?” There was too much interest in the captain's tone. It made his skin crawl. “How strange for Abarai-kun to want to speak ta me. What about?”

Renji shifted awkwardly, and then cursed himself for showing such uncertainty. “It's not really somethin' that can be discussed out of doors.”

The grin on Ichimaru's face widened by a fraction more, turning into a smirk. He stepped aside, gesturing into his quarters. A place that Renji was half-afraid to enter, but determined not to back down from either.

“Better step inside then,” Ichimaru suggested, his skin even paler in the eerie half-light spilling from his inner sanctum.

Renji swallowed thickly. “Excuse me,” he muttered and entered, carefully toeing out of his waraji as he did so.

The door slid shut, trapping him.

As odd as the captain was, what Renji could see was pretty normal. Standard decorations and the like. Shinsou was in its stand within sight, and the walls had the occasional picture frame with some kind of poem printed on the matting within.

Ichimaru moved past him, briefly brushing against Renji and causing him to jump. “We're inside now,” the captain helpfully pointed out, heading towards the main room and causing Renji to follow along after him. “So whatcha want to talk to me 'bout?”

Again, Renji was surprised by the normal furniture. He watched as Ichimaru stood in the center of the room, ignoring the seats he had available for company. And as he didn't sit, neither did Renji. Instead, he stood in the doorway, fidgeting and hating himself for it.

He thought about dancing around the situation, but Renji didn't want to be here any longer than necessary. “Kira,” he said bluntly, and was rewarded when Ichimaru lifted an eyebrow of interest.

The captain tilted his head to the side, silvery hair sliding across his forehead. “Is something wrong with Kira-fukutaichou?”

It annoyed him, that Ichimaru would be so formal here, when he always called Kira cutesy names to his face. “Shouldn't you know?” Renji demanded, and it probably came out too belligerent. But Ichimaru pissed him off. “You're his lover, ain't ya?”

“Well, I wouldn' know if we'd call it all tha' now,” Ichimaru returned with a vague gesture, something in his odd-ass grin shifting just a bit. “Why so curious?”

Renji twitched awkwardly, hating how nonchalantly Ichimaru was treating this conversation, when Renji was such a wreck on the inside. “I wanna know what you're doin' with him.”

“I'm his taichou, Abarai-kun,” he replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world and wow, Renji must be dumb for not realizing this sooner. “What else can there be?”

A growl of frustration escaped Renji's lips before he could stop it, nonexistent patience bubbling out of him and leaving only recklessness behind. “I saw you guys, okay?” he retorted. “I know what I'm talking about here.”

“Do ya?”

And really, that was an insult, even if it was subtle. Renji ground his teeth. “You're just using him, aren't ya? Well, Kira ain't that sort of guy. You're hurting 'im.”

The odd quiet in the room rattled Renji. He felt tense, awkwardly trying to rein in his own lashing reiatsu. Even Ichimaru's smile was looking a bit strained, flattening out on the edges. The captain was still standing there, confident as always, but there was an annoyance to his tone. Barely there, but Renji could see it.

“You're sure of that.”

And even though Renji absolutely was up until the very moment he lifted a hand to knock on Ichimaru's door, he faltered a bit. Because other than that one instance, he couldn't be sure what was going on. Nor could he be sure how Kira felt. All he had were his suspicions, based on the marks and the behavior and the bruises and the Kira he knew now who wasn't the Kira he knew in Academy.

He looked at Ichimaru and that gave him the determination to continue. There was a smirk on the captain's lips, the same self-serving smirk that he always carried. But to Renji, it spoke volumes. He might not be certain about Kira, but he was damn certain about Ichimaru. The bastard was trouble.

“Even if he wanted to, Kira wouldn't say anything,” Renji answered, avoiding the other part of the conversation for now. “He worked hard ta get where he is and he wouldn't ruin that.”

Ichimaru folded his arms behind his back, shuffling a step towards the right. “So you're goin' to be his knight?” he drawled, phrasing it as a question. He watched Renji, eyelids lifted enough for Renji to see a faint glimpse of the color beyond.

It was unnerving, but Renji forced himself to ignore the frightened leap his heart had taken into his belly. “If I have to,” he replied gruffly, drawing on a well of courage he did not know he possessed. “I protect my friends.”

More than that, he was going to protect Kira. Because he wasn't going to fail again.

“My, what friendship,” Ichimaru simpered, taking another step and giving an impression of a predator circling prey. And Renji was the red-haired, knee-shaking piece of meat just waiting to be snatched up and dragged to his death by the throat.

Renji felt exposed, his more-or-less fledgling reiatsu a pittance in the presence of Ichimaru's wealth of spiritual energy. It granted him no protection and he was fully aware of that fact. He could feel Ichimaru's reiatsu licking over his skin, like being pricked by a dozen needles. It was annoying but not painful. Yet.

“Sure wish I were that lucky,” Ichimaru added slyly, his grin stretching wider, revealing the perfect white of his teeth.

Renji scowled, sure as shit that Ichimaru was mocking him. He knew he was no threat to the captain. Even so, he was going to try to protect his friend.

“I want you to leave him alone.”

“Izuru-chan came ta me first, Abarai-kun,” Ichimaru informed him in a matter-of-fact tone, one pale hand gesturing vaguely.

Renji felt his own hands clenching into angry fists. He kept seeing Kira's eyes in the back of his mind and those marks, bright red and bruised. And he felt the sting of the smug superiority that Ichimaru wielded so well.

It made his insides burn with anger. Not just at Ichimaru, but at himself. For his own uselessness. What did he think he would accomplish by coming here? Did he honestly believe Ichimaru would just answer his questions docilely and immediately stop his depraved actions? Or was it that he hadn't thought, and had just run in recklessly as always, determined not to fail this time around?

His body shook as a mixture of emotion roiled through him. Embarrassment. Anger. Shame. Disappointment. Was this really all he was capable of?

“Unless....”

The single word was a sibilant hiss in the silence of the room, gripping Renji's immediate attention immediately. He looked up to find Ichimaru watching him intently, suddenly several steps closer than he had been before.

Renji's gut churned.

“Unless yer willin' ta take his place,” Ichimaru purred, cocking his head to the side. One thin hand lifted, rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. “Though ya don't look nearly as tasty as he does.”

Cherry-amber eyes widened and Renji nearly choked on his next breath. “What the fuck?” he roared, staggering backwards into the door frame in his shock. “Ya want me to... to...” The words wouldn't quite come out as he shook with rage, the urge to commit violence rattling through his entire body.

“To let me fuck ya?” Ichimaru supplied, leering. “Yeah, that was th' general idea.”

Renji's jaw worked, but no sounds emerged. His eyes narrowed. “Ya think this is some kind of game or somethin'?” he hissed, feeling as though his back were against the proverbial wall. “That I came here to be your... toy?”

Was Ichimaru serious? Did he actually mean for Renji to take Kira's place?

“You came here fer somethin',” Ichimaru said calmly, unruffled in the face of Renji's displeasure. He didn't even blink at the unintentional rise of Renji's reiatsu, a weak wind in the face of Ichimaru's slithering tendrils. “I jes made a suggestion.”

Renji's stomach flip-flopped with a swirl of fury and disbelief. “Yeah, fer me to bend over for ya,” he snapped, sneering. “Just like...” His words cut off abruptly, but the fact that he was going to name Kira was pretty damn obvious.

Ichimaru said nothing, the snide curl of his lips speaking for itself.

Renji scowled. “Ya want me to let ya do whatever the hell ya want,” he spat in reluctant realization. Within him Zabimaru coiled with displeasure, the snake hissing and the baboon snarling in hearty agreement for once, both demanding violence.

And yet...

Ichimaru shrugged. “It's a trade ya want, isn't it?” he prodded. A fisherman dangling a worm on the hook.

A worm desperately wriggling to be free, even though its body had already been pierced by the barbed metal. Knowing its doom, still struggling to the last.

... what else could Renji do?

“If I have ta leave Izuru-chan alone, then I want somethin' outta the deal.”

Renji grit his teeth, feeling them grinding against one another within the confines of his mouth. Ichimaru was watching him expectantly, almost certain that the cowardly lower seat before him was going to turn and run.

Renji's gaze found the floor.

He wasn't a coward. And Renji didn't run from anything.

“Fine.” Renji forced the agreement past his lips, feeling shame coloring his cheeks even as determination burned through his blood. “But if I find out you've been touchin' Kira, I'll kick your ass.” The question of how he was going to do that was left unasked for the moment. It might have only been bravado.

“Ya can try, Abarai-kun,” Ichimaru replied, and there was amusement in his tone. He was merely humoring Renji, that bastard. “I'm sure it'll be interestin'.” There was a rustle of fabric. “Come here.”

He forced himself to lift his gaze, seeing that Ichimaru had beckoned him. He still stood in the middle of the main room, though closer now to one of the couches than he had been before. The option of running was still available to him, the yawning presence of the hallway beckoning at Renji's back.

He hesitated for a moment that dragged on into eternity. But his pride wouldn't let him run scared, even if it balked at letting Ichimaru work his will.

Squaring his shoulders, Renji sucked in a breath and forced his feet to move. If Kira could handle this, then so could he. And he'd do it with head held high.

He almost missed the widening of Ichimaru's smile, a slow slide of absolute victory. He stepped closer to Ichimaru, within reach, and that was when a pale hand snapped out, abruptly snatching onto a fistful of Renji's hair. Before he could react, he was pulled forward with an unnaturally strong yank.

“I dunno, Abarai-kun,” Ichimaru murmured as Renji bit back a startled cry. “Ya might be too willful fer me ta handle.” His voice was pleasant, even as he casually and with an ease that disturbed Renji, forced the lower seat to kneel.

Wincing, Renji dropped to his knees, striking the floor with a harsh, dull thud. The fingers in his hair tightened, twisting and tangling amongst the long strands. “I can take it,” he retorted crossly, his bravado very much a necessary front.

Ichimaru watched him, amusement dancing across his expression. “I'm sure ya can.” He chuckled lowly, a sound that echoed in his chest. “So open up yer hakama. Let's see what yer so proud of, what ya think will make me change my mind.”

His cheeks burning at the mere thought of doing so, Renji gritted his teeth and did as asked. The humiliation burned through him as he jerked harshly on his obi, his hakama sagging past his hips. The white sash dropped to the floor as Renji looked away from Ichimaru, fingers pulling aside the layers of his shitagi.

Cold air washed over his bared chest and abdomen. He regretted his usual habit of not wearing fundoshi when his half-hard length slipped free from its confines, presenting itself to the world for all to see. Renji could feel his face burning brighter.

Ichimaru made a low sound of appreciation, which sounded a hell of a lot like a whistle. “I wondered how far them tattoos went,” he commented approvingly, the heat of his gaze falling on Renji's hipbone. “That had ta hurt. Ya like pain, Abarai-kun?”

Ichimaru experimentally dug his fingers into Renji's hair. With a sharp twist of his wrist, he yanked harshly on the long strands. A cry escaped Renji before he could stop it, a low shudder he wouldn't have anticipated creeping down his spine. It had been startling, and it had hurt, but not as much as he would have expected. He'd always enjoyed people playing with his hair, but he'd never had anyone pull on it like that before.

“Hmmm.” Ichimaru seemed inordinately pleased. “Maybe I could get used ta this,” he murmured, and without releasing his hold on the red locks, crouched until he was eye level with Renji, forcing the lower seat to look him in the eyes. “I wonder how long befer ya break, ne? I never could play good with my toys.”

Renji glared, but Ichimaru dismissed his reaction like batting away a fly. He smirked again and then he leaned forward, pulling on Renji's hair until his head was pushed back. Something warm and wet pressed to Renji's throat, giving him a long lick, before it was followed by teeth and lips. Ichimaru bit down lightly, not with enough force to draw blood, but definitely hard enough to make Renji feel it. Renji couldn't help the shudder that wracked his body, as his fingers drew into fists.

He told himself to endure. That if Kira could do it, then so could he.

He felt Ichimaru's hot breath against his throat, and then it was gone. Ichimaru's fingers deftly twisted in his hair, and jerked out the tie, tossing it over his shoulder.

“Hey--” Renji protested as his hair fell loose around him.

“Shhh.” A hand covered his mouth, Ichimaru leaning over him with surprising flexibility and abruptly pushing Renji backwards. His back hit the floor with a dull thud.

“Such a beautiful color,” Ichimaru commented, his other hand fingering the red strands and pulling them into Renji's view. “Has anyone told ya that it looks like blood? Especially like this, ne?”

When Renji glared at him, unable to say anything through the hand covering his lips, Ichimaru just chuckled. “That's a good look,” he added, letting go of Renji's hair and settling for running his palm over Renji's chest, pushing aside the remaining layers of his shitagi until Renji's skin lay bare beneath his hand.

Deft fingers traced the lines of dark tattoos, and drifted downwards, easily divesting Renji of the tangle of hakama around his legs and pushing them down. Renji hated how submissive he was being, but fighting back defeated the purpose of the agreement. He'd already abandoned his chance to walk away.

Ichimaru's hand fell against his knee, pushing his legs apart and Renji swallowed thickly, parting them obediently. He felt the fabric of Ichimaru's robe, the captain still fully dressed, as he moved between Renji's legs. It brushed against his inner thighs, raising up goosebumps.

The fingers slipped away from Renji's mouth finally, dropping to press a palm flat against the floor. Renji closed his eyes, not wanting to watch, and pressed his own hands to the wood. He was going to endure, but that didn't mean he had to participate. He felt the barest brush of something soft against his belly, his abdomen flinching away from the unexpected touch, before warm air breathed across it. Ichimaru's tongue flicked out, making him start in surprise, seconds before a finger tickled at his entrance.

Despite his determination, Renji flinched away from the discomfiting touch. He heard Ichimaru chuckle, felt the slick slide of that tongue across his skin, and then a finger pushed into him entirely. He couldn't remember Ichimaru grabbing any oil, but it wouldn't surprise him if the bastard carried some on him all the time. Che, pervert.

Renji grimaced, the sensation less arousing than he'd overheard people mention. And he told himself he didn't like the feel of Ichimaru's tongue either.

“Renji-kun's never used this, ne?” Ichimaru asked, wriggling his finger and causing Renji to clamp down on the invading digit. A grunt of discomfort escaped him before he could stop it. “Such a shame.”

“Dammit,” Renji cursed, cheeks burning as he covered his eyes with one crooked arm. “Just get it over with.”

Ichimaru clucked his tongue. “Now Renji-kun. This sort of thing has ta be done right, or didn't ya know?” The finger started a shallow thrusting motion. Something smooth journeyed up his front and he only belatedly realized that Ichimaru was dragging his cheek against the planes of Renji's abdomen.

“Or it's no fun fer either party, right?”

“I ain't doin' this for my own sake,” Renji retorted, a shiver wracking his body as he felt the addition of another finger, stretching him with a bit of a burn.
Lips traveled over his skin, and then teeth were clamping lightly onto one of his nipples, making a jolt run through him. Renji hissed at the unexpected surge of pleasure. He hadn't wanted to enjoy anything about this, and the surprising trill made his half-hard arousal give a little leap in interest. He mentally told the damn thing to sit down and shut up. Traitor.

Ichimaru flicked his tongue over Renji's nipple and drew back. “Izuru-chan should be happy to have such a guardian,” he murmured, and withdrew his finger, only to return with another, pushing all three into Renji's entrance.

He grunted at the added stretch, his muscles clamping around Ichimaru's fingers. “He's never gonna know.” Renji sneered.

No, this was something he would never tell Kira. Because he knew the reaction he would get. Kira would be angry.

“Guess I shouldn't tell either,” Ichimaru said with a chuckle, and there was a hint of mockery in it as he curled his fingers, pressing them firmly against something that made Renji's insides give a little flop of appreciation. A shudder of pleasure trickled down his spine and he unconsciously arched towards Ichimaru's touch.

Damn. What the hell was that? It felt good, more than he was willing to admit. His cock hardened further, seeping at the tip, and a part of him wanted to reach down to find some relief.

But that was something he would not do; Ichimaru would enjoy it too much.

A tongue laved over his chest, following a distinct pattern that Renji recognized as the shape of his tattoos. “Felt good, didn't it?” Ichimaru practically purred.

“Not at all,” Renji retorted, though the sizzling along his skin claimed otherwise.

There was an obscene squelch as Ichimaru withdrew his fingers, giving them one last twist before he did so. “Are ya in the habit of lying to yerself, Renji-kun?” Ichimaru questioned, and the smell of something sweet filled the air.

Ichimaru's hands settled on his knees, pushing them back towards Renji's head and he felt completely vulnerable, his groin exposed for all the world to see. The blunt head of Ichimaru's cock pressed against his entrance. Renji ground his jaw and tried to relax without success.

The captain pushed into him and Renji's back arched off the floor as he endured the penetration. He could feel Ichimaru throbbing within him and he couldn't help but draw a sharp breath through his lips.

Renji clenched his teeth. “.... hurts, you bastard.”

“It'll feel better inna minute,” Ichimaru replied offhandedly and licked up Renji's throat and off to the side, his tongue curling around Renji's ear. It felt better than it should have.

Renji's shoulders were pressed into the wood; he could feel it even through the makeshift blanket of his own shihakushou. Ichimaru's tongue was on him, his fingers squeezing Renji's legs, and Renji refused to look at him. He clenched his eyes shut, covered his face with his arms, and bit his lip as Ichimaru withdrew, only to push into him again with a slick, perverted sound.

Renji could feel Ichimaru's own clothing brushing against the sides of his legs with every thrust, the captain having not bothered to disrobe completely. His body and limbs were bony and thin where he touched Renji, carrying a faint chill. Renji couldn't ignore that it was Ichimaru thrusting into him, and Ichimaru's harsh breath panting in Renji's ears.

It felt as if Renji were watching someone else become Ichimaru Gin's lover. This... this wasn't him. This wasn't Renji's back against the floor, his hair loose and sprawled, his lip drawn firmly between his teeth. Ichimaru's thin, spidery fingers clutched Renji's leg. And Ichimaru's teeth grazed Renji's throat, dragging him to reality.

And then Ichimaru started talking again, his pace never ceasing as Renji's body opened up to him, making the thrusts easier. “Ya'd like it better if I were Izuru-chan, ne?” the captain proposed, sucking on Renji's ear lobe with a perverse noise. “All tha' perty skin and such. Ya think about it, doncha?”

“Shut up,” Renji growled, his breath hitching despite himself. He didn't want to, but Ichimaru had recalled for him the glimpse he had gotten.

Kira had looked surprisingly sexy. That had been an odd perception for Renji, who had never really looked, not until that inadvertent glimpse. And then he couldn't get Kira out of his head. Those erotic cries, Kira's body moving rhythmically, his unmarked skin...

Ichimaru's dark chuckle drew Renji from his memories and he realized, with growing horror, that his half-erection had become a full one. The lulling motion of Ichimaru's body, the slide of the captain inside of him, pushing fully on something that made his insides tingle in a way he wouldn't ever admit aloud... The slap of skin on skin was all too loud in the silence and he could hear Ichimaru's breathing, heavy and aroused. Renji's own was sharp and erratic, wanton. He hated it.

“No, ya don't,” Ichimaru corrected, and it wasn't until then that Renji realized he had said the last aloud.

The words had stolen themselves from his subconscious, spilling into the musk-filled space between them. The air smelled heavily of sex and sweat, and the bitter tang of blood from Renji's lip, bitten when he had attempted to contain his cries.

His fingers tightened into fists, so tense that they ached. He denied the pleasure arcing through his body with everything within him, but no matter how he disciplined himself, how he put the iron bars of denial between himself and his body ... his body won out.

Still, he wanted... no, needed to hate this. But his damn traitorous body demanded relief.

Ichimaru's mouth traveled downwards until his breath ghosted over one of Renji's puckering nipples. “Izuru-chan likes this, too,” he murmured, and the tip of his tongue touched the pebbled nub. “Course, he likes it when ya use yer tongue even more.”

“Stop... talkin' 'bout him like that,” Renji panted, body unconsciously arching into the touch even as he attempted to fight the pleasure. He didn't want to enjoy this, dammit.

“That's what ya say,” Ichimaru purred, and his hand released one of Renji's knees, letting the leg slide around his waist. “But yer already drippin' like this.”

He didn't know what the captain had planned next until thin fingers curled around Renji's arousal. A thumb rubbed across the damp tip, and Renji let loose a strangled groan, his hips surging into the touch. His traitorous organ was all too hungry for the next perverse touch, seeking a release it had been denied all evening.

Teeth scraped over Renji's collarbone. “Mah, ya shouldn't hold it in, Renji-kun. It's not healthy.”

“Like yer the expert or somethin',” Renji spat nastily, but his indignation degenerated as Ichimaru gave a well-timed thrust, his length sliding along that spot inside of him that reduced Renji to nothing but need.

He tried to stand aside as the body became like an animal, humping into Ichimaru's fingers and accepting each deep thrust. His mind was losing the battle, base thoughts such as “more” and “want” replacing “I hate this.”

Ichimaru made a low sound in his throat, an appreciative hum. “I might just be. Ya never know,” he replied, and there was a hitch to his voice. He was getting close, his pace becoming a bit more frantic.

Did the captain never stop talking? By Kami, it was so fucking annoying, his voice like a steady buzz in Renji's ears, reminding him with every inflection that it truly was Ichimaru fucking him and not someone else. It would be easier to think otherwise with his eyes closed, but he couldn't shut his ears.

Ichimaru pushed deep into Renji, making him hiss and rock into the thrust, his arousal seeping at the tip. There was a growing sense of warmth and desire in Renji's belly, threatening to erupt at any moment. He grit his teeth, gnawing fiercely on his bottom lip to contain the humiliating moans bubbling in his throat, the moans he would not gift to Ichimaru.

He endured because he told himself he would, even if the sensation was humiliating. He thought that if Kira could tolerate Ichimaru's touch and Ichimaru's tongue, then he could do the same for his friend. And if, with this, he could help Kira, then it wasn't that big a deal. Not at all.

Ichimaru abruptly shifted the angle of his thrusts, leaning over Renji and squeezing his fingers around Renji's cock. Renji's body clamped down on Ichimaru's length, and the captain drew in a quick breath, a small, throaty moan escaping from his lips, the first aroused noise Ichimaru had made that night. His hips snapped forward, driving deep into Renji, and then Ichimaru was shaking over him, spilling inside him.

The redhead moaned behind his teeth, the coil in his belly tightening until he could no longer hold it in. He shuddered, entire body shaking as he gave into his release, covering Ichimaru's fingers in pale fluid. He felt the captain's teeth on his throat, a hot pressure as his tongue flicked across Renji's skin.

Renji's heart beat madly inside his chest as he collapsed into the floor, sweat covering him from head to toe. His arm fell from covering his face as he sucked in several breaths, exhaustion taking him over. All he wanted to do was sleep, feeling wrung dry.

He hardly realized when he slipped into sleep, dragged down by a strange weariness. He didn't even feel it as Ichimaru slid out of him.

Later, Renji woke to the feeling of a slim finger digging into his side. He groaned, his eyes peeling open, only to slide shut again at the impossible brightness from a single small light. He wanted to go back to sleep, his brain feeling fuzzy around the edges. Like he'd had a night of binge-drinking with Hisagi-senpai and Ikkaku-san. His bed was certainly hard tonight.

“Wake up, Abarai-kun,” a voice called above him, that annoying finger jabbing into his side again and managing to get uncomfortably right between two ribs. “Ya should be sleepin' in yer own quarters. Zaraki-taichou'll be missin' ya.”

He groaned, the events of the night before coming back to him in a sudden flash. He'd actually done it. He'd given his body over to that freak Ichimaru, and the captain had done his best to wring him dry. He felt strung up and beaten, his lower regions throbbing and his body sticky. He desperately needed a bath.

Ichimaru crouched over him, his elbows balanced on his knees and his head cocked to the side. “Come now, Abarai-kun,” he practically purred. “Ya can't be hurtin' that much.”

He forced one dark red eye open, glaring up at the captain. “Bastard,” he hissed through his teeth, as shifting made a dull throb creep up his back.

A pale hand came out, patting him patronizingly on the cheek. “Ya shouldn't be talkin' to yer superiors like tha', Abarai-kun. And after I was nice to ya an' everythin'.”

Renji surged upwards and away from the condescending touch, wanting distance between himself and Ichimaru as he scrambled to a sitting position, hair falling around his face in a tangled disarray. Pain immediately followed and he sucked air through his teeth.

“You call that nice?” he demanded, rubbing at his lower back even as he registered his utter nakedness. He was wrapped, more or less, in his shitagi, but that was about it. While he should have felt embarrassed, his brain wasn't quite working yet. All he could think of was that he'd actually gone through with it.

Ichimaru pulled back, folding his arms over his chest, balancing his chin on one palm. He smiled at Renji, and it was an eerie, twisted grin. “I gave ya what ya wanted, didn't I? That's bein' nice.”

The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them, bitter and accusing. “You nice to Kira, too?”

The smile, usually so prominent, slipped just a little, coming dangerously close to a frown. “I think yer getting' the wrong impression 'bout me an' Izuru-chan.” He slowly stood, his plain yukata falling messily across his thin frame.

Renji forced himself to rise to his feet, despite the pain radiating through his back. As he moved around, hunting for his clothes, he could feel the weight of Ichimaru's gaze on him, as though looking right through him. It made his skin crawl, even as a shiver crept up his spine.

“Why don't ya enlighten me then?” he demanded, only to pause and stare in horror as he caught his reflection in a passing small mirror. There were marks on him, the side of his neck, his collarbone, the flat planes of his abdomen. Finger impressions, small bites, everywhere. He'd been fucking mauled.

Suddenly, Renji felt a bit too naked, if there was even such a thing. He hurriedly slipped into his hakama, despite the pain it produced, and quickly knotted the ties.

“Not my place ta tell,” Ichimaru responded with far too much cheer, his steps silent as he moved around the room, still watching. “But if ya think yer doin' this fer him, ya might want to ask yerself what Izuru-chan really wants, ne?”

Renji scrambled around for his hair tie, wishing he could remember where Ichimaru had tossed it. He felt vulnerable with his hair loose. “It certainly isn't you,” he retorted, a sneer twisting his lips.

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn't.” Ichimaru's head tipped to the side, and then he was there, in Renji's way. One hand lifted, palm landing flat against Renji's bared chest, where he hadn't yet managed to pull his shitagi shut.

It felt unnaturally warm, and the strength in that hold never ceased to surprise Renji. Deft fingers traced the arched, black lines on Renji's chest.

“But he's got such a strong protector like you,” Ichimaru continued, his voice a near purr. He was only an inch shorter than Renji, but somehow, Renji felt as if he were inches below the captain. “Maybe ya want him to want you?”

It was completely out of his control, the bright red that invaded his cheeks. Because all he could think about in that moment was Kira, that pale skin, those lusty cries. Imagining the feel of him beneath his fingertips, of pressing his lips to Kira's and running his fingers through blond hair.

He startled and the sudden vividness of the image, and thought to move away, but Ichimaru was too fast for him. His smile more of a smirk, Ichimaru reached out and grabbed Renji's chin, pulling him into a firm kiss. It wasn't until that moment that Renji realized it was the first time the captain had actually kissed him. Ichimaru's tongue slid into his mouth, tasting of persimmon and blood, a weird combination.

“Ya ain't as cute as Izuru-chan,” Ichimaru murmured, ending the kiss with a lick across Renji's lips. “But I think you'll do, Abarai-kun.”

Renji growled in his throat, not liking what the captain was implying. “We have a deal,” he reminded Ichimaru. Otherwise, what was all this for?

“Mmm. Do we?” The fingers tightened on his chin, holding stronger than he would have thought.

Renji struggled and broke free, backing away several steps to the hall. “Bastard!” he spat, even as Ichimaru advanced on him, causing him to backpedal another couple of steps. “Ya said ya would leave 'im alone!”

Retreating again, Renji nearly tripped on his own waraji and he hurriedly dropped down, scooping them into his arms.

Ichimaru was relentless. “I did,” Ichimaru agreed, and that sly grin returned. “But if he comes ta me, I ain't gonna turn 'im away. Would be rude, yanno.”

Renji's back hit the door as Ichimaru waved one hand dismissively. “That's why I said yer misunderstandin' somethin' here.”

He pressed close to Renji, whose heart had started a sudden and strange rhythm in his chest. But rather than do something perverted, he reached past Renji and suddenly pushed the door open.

Renji stumbled backwards and out into the early morning dew. He nearly dropped one of his waraji in the process, left staring at Ichimaru in disbelief.

Standing in his doorway, Ichimaru lifted a hand and leaned it against the doorframe. “Ya should really learn to get all yer information 'for ya go all half-cocked, ne, Abarai-kun?”

All too aware of his surroundings, all Renji could do was growl under his breath, even as he tried to maintain hold on his slipping hakama and his halfway done clothing. “Ichimaru-taichou--”

“Goodnight,” the captain replied cheerily, and with a happy smile and a flirty wave, the door was slid shut.

Renji was left standing in front of Ichimaru's door, half-dressed, with his lower body aching and throbbing, his heart matching the odd rhythm, and Renji swallowed thickly. He felt sticky and sweaty, remnants of Ichimaru's release clinging to him.

The early morning's chill sent a shiver through his body. And all he could do was stare in dull confusion at Ichimaru's closed door, wondering what the hell he had just done.

***

a/n: And the plot thickens! I do hope you enjoyed! There's six more parts to go!