Another Time, Another Place
folder
Bleach › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
2,917
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Bleach › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
2,917
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
III - Keep Rolling The Rocks
Name // Another Time, Another Place
Chapter // III - Keep Rolling The Rocks
Authored by // R. Brightside
Pairing // Aizen/Gin (Side); Gin/Hitsu (Main)
Song // We Love Katamari – Kurukuru Rocks
Warnings // Angst, complicated writing style, a change of POV quite frequently when it comes to the Gin/Hitsu, Non-Consensual Sex, Yaoi.
AN // This particular fic is one of the more meaningful of the many, I think. Gin has always struck me as a cool character, but forgive me if I use this particular way of writing again. I find it really quite cool.
Enjoy, I hope. The style is a lot different, and hopefully easy to understand. If not, look at this chart to help you with understanding the colors that I put here. ://
http://www.color-wheel-pro.com/color-meaning.html
>……< Indicates a POV change.
--
The classroom is innocent, but the children within are far from it.
A sea of intellectual, of autumn, of evil, all crammed into one space. It makes my mind hurt, so I don’t look at them, and only at the man who I originally came to see.
Sousuke – my purple rose, barely my friend, but is.
He stands, and smiles, and I hear some girls giggle and break out into chatter at the back. I don’t look – one of them has hair the color of despair.
“Ahh, Gin. We had a meeting today, didn’t we?”
I let my face break out into it’s usual grin as Sousuke steps out of the classroom, and I close my eyes and wave to the children before following him out of the room. After all, mom always told me to be polite, even if I couldn’t look at them.
Sousuke leads me to his car, the color of knowledge, and he drives me back to his home, thankfully only five minutes away. I’m glad I visited just before school ended – the children don’t particularly care if their teacher disappears last thing on a Friday.
He pins me to his bed, his glasses placed carefully on the bedside table. Sometimes, I wish he’d place me down carefully.
Red is always rough, but drawn out and long-lasting. He makes me scream, and he thinks I like it. I do, to an extent, but the roughness gets boring. I’ve always promised myself that I’d be gentle with my lovers, unlike the masculine-haired man above me.
When I leave, I feel Dark Purple.
I punch the wall and lean my head against the brick wall outside Aizen’s home as he hums a Pink tune, making his dinner for his girlfriend. She’s very sweet, he tells me. Hinamori Momo.
I’m glad that she’s not Orange. He assures me, with laughter, that she’s not.
He doesn’t understand why I’m like this, of course, but neither does anyone else. I suppose that’s a good thing.
--
Matsumoto Rangiku, a childhood friend, introduced me to her boss about a year ago. And it all started that night where he and I got too intoxicated.
I could feel that he was Green-Yellow, but it didn’t stop me from kissing him, or from taking him back to my flat. I still feel Dark Purple.
>…..<
I tell him to stop, but he doesn’t listen. He keeps on apologizing, and saying how he felt ‘Dark Purple’.
I’m glad I’ve done my bit with psychology, or I wouldn’t know what he was talking about.
Depression, frustration, sadness – he doesn’t give me time to understand it completely, his lips against mine distracting and unwelcome. I think he’s crying, but I can’t help him, because his unwanted fingers are deep inside of me, stretching me to the point that I felt like I was ripping.
He draws them away, kisses me again, and even that unwelcoming sensation doesn’t stop the pain, the immense pain, the AGONY, of his penetration. I tilt my head back and cry out into the night, and he whimpers, his tears dripping onto my chest.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
>…….<
I apologize, over and over again, but the agony doesn’t go away. I don’t move, I let him adjust to me, and eventually, his breathing smoothes out enough that I feel comfortable moving. He begs me to stop, gripping my shoulders tightly in pain. I repeat ‘Deep Purple’ into his ear, and tears to match mine blossom in his eyes.
I tremble and sob at the words, my hips pushing forward into him despite his cries as agony. I’m trying, I’m trying, I’m trying to be gentle…
Deeppurpledeeppurpledeeppurpledeeppurpledeeppurple—
>…….<
“Red… Gin, red!”
I sob it out, begging him to stop in the one way he doesn’t want me to.
“I hurt, Gin, stop it!”
“…I jus’ wanna make someone feel good. He doesn’t, so why can’t I make someone else feel good?”
He looks at me, cheeks pale with only a tint of color to it. “Why?”
>……<
He can’t answer me. I ask him over and over as I thrust deep into him, feeling blood seeping around me as I sob into his chest. I just wanted to make someone happy. I just wanted to make someone love me like I wanted Sousuke to love me. Gentle and loving.
He doesn’t orgasm, but I do.
He holds me as I speak to him, trying my best to refrain from crying.
He didn’t want it, but he’s being brown about it. I promise him I won’t do it again, promise him over and over again, and he just smiles in a dark-blue manner, telling me to sleep.
For such a young man… he’s much more understanding.
--
Every time that I tried to talk to him again, it was strange. He wasn’t cold – he understood me, and he attempted a yellow smile every time I walked into the office.
I took him out to dinner and apologized again, giving him another gentle kiss.
I cry every time that Sousuke takes me, now, and he just seems to get off on it.
But with Hitsugaya… I promise him I won’t do it again, and I do. But he’s fine with it.
…I can’t make anyone happy, can I?
--
AN // A bit angst-y-er.
Read it, you have, review it, please?
Give me some ideas for more pairings, and I might try ‘em out.
--
Thank you to all of my reviewers!
Chapter // III - Keep Rolling The Rocks
Authored by // R. Brightside
Pairing // Aizen/Gin (Side); Gin/Hitsu (Main)
Song // We Love Katamari – Kurukuru Rocks
Warnings // Angst, complicated writing style, a change of POV quite frequently when it comes to the Gin/Hitsu, Non-Consensual Sex, Yaoi.
AN // This particular fic is one of the more meaningful of the many, I think. Gin has always struck me as a cool character, but forgive me if I use this particular way of writing again. I find it really quite cool.
Enjoy, I hope. The style is a lot different, and hopefully easy to understand. If not, look at this chart to help you with understanding the colors that I put here. ://
http://www.color-wheel-pro.com/color-meaning.html
>……< Indicates a POV change.
--
The classroom is innocent, but the children within are far from it.
A sea of intellectual, of autumn, of evil, all crammed into one space. It makes my mind hurt, so I don’t look at them, and only at the man who I originally came to see.
Sousuke – my purple rose, barely my friend, but is.
He stands, and smiles, and I hear some girls giggle and break out into chatter at the back. I don’t look – one of them has hair the color of despair.
“Ahh, Gin. We had a meeting today, didn’t we?”
I let my face break out into it’s usual grin as Sousuke steps out of the classroom, and I close my eyes and wave to the children before following him out of the room. After all, mom always told me to be polite, even if I couldn’t look at them.
Sousuke leads me to his car, the color of knowledge, and he drives me back to his home, thankfully only five minutes away. I’m glad I visited just before school ended – the children don’t particularly care if their teacher disappears last thing on a Friday.
He pins me to his bed, his glasses placed carefully on the bedside table. Sometimes, I wish he’d place me down carefully.
Red is always rough, but drawn out and long-lasting. He makes me scream, and he thinks I like it. I do, to an extent, but the roughness gets boring. I’ve always promised myself that I’d be gentle with my lovers, unlike the masculine-haired man above me.
When I leave, I feel Dark Purple.
I punch the wall and lean my head against the brick wall outside Aizen’s home as he hums a Pink tune, making his dinner for his girlfriend. She’s very sweet, he tells me. Hinamori Momo.
I’m glad that she’s not Orange. He assures me, with laughter, that she’s not.
He doesn’t understand why I’m like this, of course, but neither does anyone else. I suppose that’s a good thing.
--
Matsumoto Rangiku, a childhood friend, introduced me to her boss about a year ago. And it all started that night where he and I got too intoxicated.
I could feel that he was Green-Yellow, but it didn’t stop me from kissing him, or from taking him back to my flat. I still feel Dark Purple.
>…..<
I tell him to stop, but he doesn’t listen. He keeps on apologizing, and saying how he felt ‘Dark Purple’.
I’m glad I’ve done my bit with psychology, or I wouldn’t know what he was talking about.
Depression, frustration, sadness – he doesn’t give me time to understand it completely, his lips against mine distracting and unwelcome. I think he’s crying, but I can’t help him, because his unwanted fingers are deep inside of me, stretching me to the point that I felt like I was ripping.
He draws them away, kisses me again, and even that unwelcoming sensation doesn’t stop the pain, the immense pain, the AGONY, of his penetration. I tilt my head back and cry out into the night, and he whimpers, his tears dripping onto my chest.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
>…….<
I apologize, over and over again, but the agony doesn’t go away. I don’t move, I let him adjust to me, and eventually, his breathing smoothes out enough that I feel comfortable moving. He begs me to stop, gripping my shoulders tightly in pain. I repeat ‘Deep Purple’ into his ear, and tears to match mine blossom in his eyes.
I tremble and sob at the words, my hips pushing forward into him despite his cries as agony. I’m trying, I’m trying, I’m trying to be gentle…
Deeppurpledeeppurpledeeppurpledeeppurpledeeppurple—
>…….<
“Red… Gin, red!”
I sob it out, begging him to stop in the one way he doesn’t want me to.
“I hurt, Gin, stop it!”
“…I jus’ wanna make someone feel good. He doesn’t, so why can’t I make someone else feel good?”
He looks at me, cheeks pale with only a tint of color to it. “Why?”
>……<
He can’t answer me. I ask him over and over as I thrust deep into him, feeling blood seeping around me as I sob into his chest. I just wanted to make someone happy. I just wanted to make someone love me like I wanted Sousuke to love me. Gentle and loving.
He doesn’t orgasm, but I do.
He holds me as I speak to him, trying my best to refrain from crying.
He didn’t want it, but he’s being brown about it. I promise him I won’t do it again, promise him over and over again, and he just smiles in a dark-blue manner, telling me to sleep.
For such a young man… he’s much more understanding.
--
Every time that I tried to talk to him again, it was strange. He wasn’t cold – he understood me, and he attempted a yellow smile every time I walked into the office.
I took him out to dinner and apologized again, giving him another gentle kiss.
I cry every time that Sousuke takes me, now, and he just seems to get off on it.
But with Hitsugaya… I promise him I won’t do it again, and I do. But he’s fine with it.
…I can’t make anyone happy, can I?
--
AN // A bit angst-y-er.
Read it, you have, review it, please?
Give me some ideas for more pairings, and I might try ‘em out.
--
Thank you to all of my reviewers!