Breaking In The Reins

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. I'm only writing this to play out my perverted fantasies and diabolical whims.

Warnings: Mansecks, yaoi, shounen-ai, NON-CON.

Pairings: AizenIchimaru, mention of IchimaruKira

Notes: Whee, chapter four! I had sudden inspiration for this chapter while watching AMV's to do with Aizen, Gin and Izuru. I was watching one and suddenly went “Oh my god, that's perfect!”, nearly deafening my brother, who was sitting beside me. He ran for his life once I started writing and thankfully, gave me enough alone time to write the smut this chapter contains. -laughs-

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Ichimaru Gin had taken to smiling as often as possible.

During his morning routine while he brushed his hair and his teeth. While he bathed and then dressed in his shinigami uniform which had been pressed neatly the night before, also while smiling. His early breakfast with Aizen was spent grinning through a broad smirk, his food disappearing as if he hadn't had any on his plate to begin with. The formal captain said nothing else about his fukutaichou's odd behaviour and enjoyed his food in blissful ignorance instead, watching with a curious eye as the slim form flitted about, tidying up after their meal and settling himself down with the short stack of paperwork on his desk.

He larger man, though able to garner his subordinate's attention with barely a single word, cleared his throat and waited for the younger shinigami to snap to attention, waiting less than a second as the ever grinning face peered up with lofted brows.

“Did ya need somethin', Taichou?”

He shook his head and picked his brush back up, dipping it in ink and holding it over his already half finished page, little drops of ink making perfect dots on the sheet's white surface.
“Have you finished your paperwork yet? I'm certain that Kira-kun is anxious to be taught his new duties.”

The double entendre in the captain's words made the younger man shiver involuntarily, his brow furrowing just enough to suggest to the elder man that something he had said had affected him. Ichimaru shuffled his papers together and quickly signed his name to the bottom of the top one, allowing it to dry as he tucked Shinsou back into his obi and approached the larger desk.

“Should I go now, Taichou?”

“Perhaps you should.” Aizen peered out of the window closest to his desk and then glanced sideways at his vice captain. “Tell me where he is by gauging his reiatsu, Gin.”

The smaller man gave his captain a slightly confused look but answered immediately. “The barracks.”

“Good boy. Go on and teach him what he needs to know. Growing boys need their discipline, don't they?”

Though Ichimaru knew that Kira was hardly a boy, he nodded and hurried off, his zanpakutou whapping against his hip as he moved quickly, leaving the suffocating office where his captain's own energy had been choking him. In the squad's barracks he found the blond shinigami easily enough, his brilliant smile, usually hidden by a blush and a ducked head, standing out amongst the sadder looking division members. Carefully, he sidled up to the boy and stood behind him, gathering stares from the rest of his table mates.

One in particular, shook the boy's shoulder and whispered in his ear, bowing politely to the fukutaichou and then going back about the business of his half eaten breakfast, leaving the blond to stiffen and turn around slowly, frightened to death of what the elder may had to say.

“Kira-kun?”

Wabisuke's master started, caught off guard by Gin's soft but carrying voice. He got to his feet and turned around to bow respectfully, straightening up with a pained look on his delicately boned face.
“Hai, Ichimaru-fukutaichou?”

“Tidy up your things and come with me. We're gonna start your trainin' today.”

The younger man blinked but brightened considerably, excited to be the squad's new third seat and even more thrilled to be taught by their illustrious vice captain himself. He gathered up his tray and hurried it to the commissary window, handing it back to the worker and falling into place behind the silver haired shinigami, his head down slightly but his heart was nearly bursting with pride at being singled out in the company of the other squad members.

Gin looked behind him and smiled a bit more broadly, turning back towards the corridor where he led his new charge into the training hall, the men currently using the facilities bowing and leaving without haste, not wanting to bother their fukutaichou if the man desired the space for himself. Knowingly, Ichimaru stepped back to the double, slatted doors and secured them tightly, even going so far as to flick the lock, not wanting unwanted company during his first round of subjective training.

“Good boy.” He nearly bit his lip as he caught himself already using one of Aizen's complimentary phrases, a light tinting of pink curling over the blond's nose to show that the words were welcomed, if embarrassing. “Show me your form, Kira-kun. I want to see just how ya get around while you're practicin'.”

“Hai, Ichimaru-fukutaichou.”

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Nine hours later, while the sun was on its march back towards the horizon, Kira was allowed to leave the training hall, his back sore from the amount of work he had accomplished, his hands blistered and his head aching. Behind him, Ichimaru walked with his head held high, his arms tucked into the sleeves of his kimono. His step was more lighthearted than it had been that morning and after bidding the blond a goodnight, he returned to his captain's quarters, excited to tell him the details.

“Aizen-taichou!”

The elder man looked up from his writing, a heavy yukata draped over his shoulders, giving light to the chill he felt in the slightly drafty office.
“Please lower your voice, Ginyanote. I don't want the entirety of Seireitei to hear your news.”

“Sou, gomen ne.”

He peered off to the side, catching the smallest image of the silver haired fukutaichou from the corner of his eye, the young shinigami's dejected posture causing him to smile wickedly.
“Stand up straight, Gin. You'll ruin yourself that way. And come closer when you speak to me. I don't appreciate being talked to from behind. I was sure you knew that by now.”

Curious about his captain's sudden sour mood, or the beginnings of one, Ichimaru shuffled forward, bowing politely in front of the desk. After his last encounter with the dangerous captain, he was wary, certain to keep his distance as much as dignity allowed, not wanting to seem rude or ignorant. Aizen's deep voice made him jump when an awkward amount of silence had passed between them.

“How was he?”

“Kira-kun, Taichou?”

“Mm.”

“He's really skilled with kidou but he needs more practice with a sword. He's kinda new to it. The red haired one helped him a lot but he's with Zaraki-taichou now-”

“Abarai-kun.”

“Yeah! That's the one.” He shifted restlessly to the other foot, lifting the sore one up so that he resembled a stork, a comfortable position he found that he enjoyed immediately. “But other than that, we didn't get very far.”

Aizen, his skills outclassing Ichimaru's by centuries, moved too fast for the boy to see, slim fingers wrapping around the elder man's wrist as he forcefully squeezed his vice captain's throat, almost lifting him off the floor with his superior height. The normally caring brown eyes glared with a deep seated cold, something the younger shinigami had only seen once before. The day the pair had gone to save Izuru and his comrades. He had gone home with Sousuke that night and had witnessed it, the image burned into the back of his mind.

“A-Aizen-taichou...”

The gaze never wavered but seemed to harden considerably as he started to walk forward, causing Gin to walk backwards, knowing from experience that they were headed back into his captain's private quarters, the door slid shut behind them with a loud clack. He winced from the sound, the sharpness of it echoing in the well furnished but barely used room. The bed was comfortable, a large western style one like most of Soul Society favoured, or those who could afford it anyway.
The soft mattress struck his backside as he was released and shoved back, the many pillows cradling his head and giving him something nice to lean on while he watched with wide eyes as Aizen began to undress. He hardly noticed that he had neglected to keep his eyes closed and he watched with rapt fascination, the elder man's physique stunning him just as it had in the past. Ichimaru caught himself licking his lips, completely forgetting that the other man had almost choked him to death.

“I gave you an order, Ginyanote. It seems you've failed to accomplish it, ne?”

“But Taichou, he's just a boy! He's old enough to do all the things ya want me to make him do, but I couldn't! I don't want him to end up bein' like that.”

The brunet chuckled as he climbed up, crawling over the prostrate vice captain and kneeling between his spread thighs, amused by the younger shinigami's devotion and utter lack of indignancy when it came to being treated so badly. He leaned forward and snatched Ichimaru's hair in one large hand, fisting the silvery strands and tugging hard to make him lean his head back, his throat exposed, with its reddening spots where his fingers had gripped just this side of too hard.

Aizen stared down into his subordinate's complacent ruby gaze and smirked, his other hand running up the length of Ichimaru's torso, tickling the delicate skin underneath his rough kimono.
“Tell me, Gin, what would Kira-kun end up being like, if you were to go ahead with the orders you neglected?”

The tiny whimper from the normally stoic fukutaichou was the only sound in the room, save for the springs in the mattress shifting under Aizen's considerable weight, the younger swordsman's eyes closing tightly again as his captain leaned forward to gently kiss his forehead. He licked his lips again and tried to turn his head a little bit, wincing as the strong hand held on tightly and only allowed him a fraction of an inch.

“T-Taichou...he'd end up like me.”

“A whimpering mass of ignorance?”

A nod, followed by a squeaked answer, came forth. “H-Hai. Gomen ne.”

Sousuke let the boy go and slid back a little bit, starting to remove Ichimaru's clothes without so much as a complaint from the other, each article tossed aside before he dove in and attacked the thin, supple flesh, nibbling where he knew he could get the best reaction and purposely biting viciously where he knew the young vice captain would cry out loud as a result.

Ashamed of his apparent arousal, Gin covered the organ with his hands and turned away from the larger man, not rejecting his touch when he was forced onto his belly but also not as pleased as he could have been, his knees shaking as he was lifted up onto all fours and leaned upon like a warm table. The weight of his captain over his body was comforting to say the least but he knew all too well what would come next, the animalistic claiming Aizen considering 'casual loving'.
The first of many hurts came the moment the elder Seireitei resident pressed his girth inside Ichimaru's tiny portal, aided by scented, lubricating oils but still paining the smaller man to the point where he gritted his teeth and tried to lean his chest down against the sheets, only to be hauled back up by the hair on the back of his head.

Aizen had removed his glasses while undressing and in the mirror above the bed and the smaller one on the little dresser, he reflected a nasty image, a dangerous older man with a knack for causing pain and corruption wherever he laid his hand. If only Souls Society had known at the time how cruel he could truly be, they would have been spared a craftily designed plot more than a hundred years in the making.

Thankfully, Gin had kept his head buried in the fluffy pillows and had avoided the mirror's crystal reflection, not wanting to see himself as he began to enjoy to the other's ministrations, bucking back slightly as he shifted a hand down to touch himself, groaning into the soft material and hearing Aizen's returned growl of pleasure as the hole he so lovingly pillaged tightened around him.

“Ahh, Gin. You're so wonderfully tight.” He whispered into Ichimaru's ear, as he lay over his back, one arm holding him up while the other wrapped around his subordinate's own pleasuring hand. “I can only imagine that Kira-kun would be just as tight, if not more so. Can't you imagine it? As you touch yourself in such a depraved way?”

It was a ending stimulus for the abused fukutaichou and he spilled his seed from the barest thought of taking the young blond as he himself was taken so constantly, emptying with deep groans of both triumph and regret, listening and feeling as his captain did the same, the sensation of being filled by his warmth making him shudder.
Aizen knew. He had to. It was the only thing that could possibly arouse Ichimaru and bring him over that way, to dominate someone as he had been dominated, to cause them undue but loving harm that only a true believer of the practice could understand and dole out.

He felt the larger body shift off of the bed and pad to the bathroom, running water filling his head before the again bespectacled captain returned and tossed a cool, wet cloth onto the sheets beside him, offering him something to tidy himself with.

“Clean up, Gin. I want you to rest for tonight and continue with your orders tomorrow morning. Kira and Hinamori will be in the outdoor grounds for their swordsmanship training. I fully expect you to obey me in this, is that understood?”

The barest hint of a nod later and Aizen stalked off, the warm yukata tugged on and tied securely so he could sit by the large picture window in his office, a cup of sake balanced on his knee as he lounged on the divan just inside Ichimaru's line of sight. He sat there on purpose, letting the younger shinigami see just how happy he was with their situation.

To Ichimaru, it was a threat to his survival in the end. He was molested, drugged on occasion, given jobs he didn't care for in order to be reprimanded later between his captain's sheets. But shouldn't those things make someone hate the giver of those dangers? Why did he feel so much blind love for the man? Why did he give his life in return for a gentle pat from the elder fighter and the occasional thrill of a warm hug?

Because Ichimaru Gin was a whore for attention. He didn't care if it was good or bad attention. He just knew that his captain wanted him and maybe it wasn't so bad in the end. He rolled onto his side and looked over the expanse of soiled bed, curling his hands in the warm linens and cuddling them up to his chin, trying to stave off insomnia with a good night's rest. In the outer office he could hear Aizen shuffling around, blowing out candles and locking the main door securely.

Behind him. Gin could feel the weight of the mirror's stare, daring him to turn over and look deep into its shiny depths, the haunting image of his bloody stare inching its way back into his consciousness. He shivered and allowed the larger shinigami to spoon against his back when he finally got into bed, the thick blankets tugged up to cover them, hiding the blood stained sheets that they had left behind from their earlier actions.

It mattered little to Aizen what the sheets looked like. It was a constant reminder of just how loyal Gin was to him. Ichimaru saw it as a mark of appreciation each time, that any other person would have been killed for ignoring and disregarding his superior's orders.

Warm breath tickled his ear and cheek where Sousuke's mouth sat, an irritating feeling but one Gin thought he could tolerate.

“Go to sleep, Ginyanote. I know you're still awake. Your reiatsu is flaring. Calm it down a little bit.”

“Hai, Aizen-taichou. Gomen ne.”

“No more sorries. I don't want to hear it from you ever again. And from now on, I'd like you to call me by my first name.”

“Taichou?”

“Sousuke, Gin. Call me Sousuke. It's something I reserve for those whom I care for deeply and want to keep close to me always.”

Ichimaru felt as if his heart was going to burst as the man spoke the gentle words, giving a little wriggle in response.

He couldn't decide if it was from love, or the crush of the brilliant shinigami's powerful reiatsu as it flared just enough to knock him unconscious, an obvious reminder that he had been asked to fall asleep.

Behind him, Aizen smirked.