The Broken Souls of the Seireitei

A/N: I am PROUD of this chapter. It has a lemon inside. I worked SO HARD on it, because I wanted it to be perfect. Next chapter I will start into the central part of the story, I hope. I wrote an outline (what am I, an 8th grader?) to help me stay focused with my writing. Eh, who cares. Read the chapter, it's for you. Thank you to all that have reviewed, you keep this story alive.






“So, Kuchiki Byakuya…what was that display these old eyes just saw?” Urahara’s syrupy sweet voice called to Byakuya, who was leaning over the ledge of the wall, staring at the passerbys who were just getting over the visual assault of Ikkaku’s naked body. A shrug made Urahara frown and click his tongue.

“Yare, yare. Are you out here second guessing yourself?”

Byakuya turned, his face slightly reddened. “Speaking of second guessing, perhaps 100 years ago you should have second guessed why a lesbian offered to run away with you. Did you really think you could win Yoruichi’s heart? Baka…” Byakuya snipped and started to turn to face the street again when he was snatched by his collar and found himself staring into blazing blue eyes.

“What did, didn’t, isn’t, and possibly will happen between Yoruichi and I is between Yoruichi and I. You being an unruly rich brat means nothing to me. Kuchiki doesn‘t mean shit to me, as if it ever really did.” His words were snarled as he shoved Byakuya away brutally before snapping open his fan and waving it in front of his face. He smiled and nodded jovially at Byakuya.

“So now that that scab has been picked away, do you like Kurosaki Ichigo? If he is anything like his father, I suggest you clamp down and hold the reins tight on him,” Urahara chirped, laughing. He turned and walked away, leaving Byakuya to straighten his collar and glare angry daggers at the elder shinigami.

***********************

Rangiku stared at her face in the mirror. She smiled brightly, and held the floss out to clean her teeth. She scratched her mole with a discontent look on her face and sighed. Momo’s comments had really bothered her, and she had not had really had fun since. She made a mental note to herself to treat Rukia to a cucumber and tomato salad, one of her favorites. She took a deep breath and sighed, flushing the toilet and washing her hands, smiling at the perfumed soaps that had to be Nanao’s. She opened the door and started to walk out, but noticed something blocking her way.

“Hi.” Her voice was small as she glanced upward at Zaraki, who looked down and wore an expressionless look.

“You left the game. It was your turn again.” That weird eye glaring at her again was unnerving, and try as she might to scoot herself against the wall, her breasts seemed to push against his chest. Damn boobies. They had a mind of their own. Zaraki didn’t move, and his eye was intently fixed on her. Rangiku gulped and nodded her head at him, sliding past him and nearly knocking one of Chad’s pictures off the wall. Once moved safely away from him, she bolted for the living room. She felt a strange wind on her back and turned, but Zaraki was closing the door to the bathroom. She shrugged and figured it was a breeze, and that he really had to pee, and sat back in the circle.

“Where ya been, Fatty?” Yumichika asked loudly, gently placing his perfect hair forever in her lap as not to muss his up do. She abruptly moved her legs, causing his head to hit the carpet. Shuuhei and Orihime chuckled, and Ikkaku yawned.

“Yeah, yo tambien,” Chad said, yawning too. He raised his eyebrows at Nanao, who blushed and took his hand. They stood and walked over to one of the bedrooms and paused as Chad turned toward his guests.

“I’m going to bed con Querida. There are 3 bedrooms left. Please don’t cum on anything that looks expensive. Buenos noches, amigos!” He bowed and laughed as Nanao reached out and grabbed his tie, pulling him into the room and slamming the door.

“Well, that was slightly hardcore,” Yumi muttered, still sideways on the floor. He narrowed his eyes at Renji, Kira, and Rukia, who looked comfy on the couch talking. He sighed and rolled over and shook his head at Shuuhei and Ikkaku, who were sitting at the kitchen table playing cards. Ikkaku was also trying to play footsies, and Yumi rolled his eyes. Ikkaku seemed to go back and forth between Rukia and Shuuhei, and Ikkaku switch hitting worked for the three of them, it was none of his business to intercede. Yumi huffed and stared at the ceiling, closing his eyes. He smiled and giggled when Orihime and Rangiku got blankets and snuggled in on either side of him, wrapping their arms and breasts around him. He knew he wasn’t forgotten, those bitches wouldn’t do that to him. Comforted by the warmth and love, his feathered eyes closed for dreamless sleep.
*****************

“Byakuya. Can I talk to you?”

Byakuya frowned. Obviously these people didn’t realize he came outside to be alone. Thankfully, Urahara had not really hurt his neck, only his pride.

“It’s ‘may’ you talk to me, and yes, what is your concern, Kurosaki Ichigo?” He refused to turn around. Justifying his actions twice within such a short amount of time was unacceptable.

Ichigo closed the sliding door and cautiously walked over to the edge where Byakuya was standing and looked at the street.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“For kissing me that way. I’d always wondered, especially starting this shinigami stuff if I’d ever be kissed like that. It was…” Ichigo trailed off and Byakuya could hear him inhale a breath and then sigh longingly. It had an adverse affect on his prostate and he felt himself internally twitch in a warm way.

“It was my pleasure making you squirm.” If he couldn’t best him on the battlefield, at least he could dominate him during a physical connection.

“Was that all it was?” Ichigo’s voice held a tinge of disappointment, one Byakuya found himself turning to face. He gave Ichigo a quizzical look before really examining the boy’s profile. He was magnificent. His bright orange spiky hair, his cute sharp nose, his strong jaw and slightly puffy lips amazed him. It was almost like looking at his dead friend Kaien, but then it wasn’t. He refrained from stroking his cheek and sighed before facing the road.

“I’m afraid so, Kurosaki Ichigo.”

“Liar.” Byakuya turned sharply and this time Ichigo was looking at him. His brown eyes glittered in the moonlight, and Byakuya felt his heart skip a beat. He was unsure of how he felt about Ichigo eying him that way. Almost like he was some sort of expensive delicacy that the purchase was painstakingly saved up for.

“Please,” Ichigo whispered, slowly moving closer. “Please.”

Byakuya strangely felt helpless. “Please what?” He asked hoarsely, their lips seconds apart.

“Please kiss me,” Ichigo murmured over Byakuya’s lips before kissing him deeply.

For a moment, Byakuya just stood there, dumbfounded. Ichigo’s lips on his were scorching hot and enticingly taboo. By some other being’s volition, his arms encircled the trembling boy, and their kiss grew in passion. Ichigo held Byakuya by the waist, crushing their erections together. Erection? Byakuya broke the kiss and pushed Ichigo away, both of their faces flushed. No one, not Hisana, not…..no one had ever kissed him that way.

“I’m sorry.” Ichigo’s voice was hushed and he looked down at an angle that prevented Byakuya from seeing his eyes. Myriad emotions pierced him and for a moment he felt bad that he made Ichigo feel unwanted. Unfortunately the usual case with the Kuchiki was to not say the right, comforting thing and remain stoic and hard. Now wasn’t the time for such bullshit.

Ichigo turned and took a few paces to go back inside when his wrist was snatched and lips were crushed onto his. Byakuya threw him on one of the lawn chairs and practically landed on him, alternating his kisses between languid and vigorously enthusiastic. Ichigo ran his fingers through the black silk locks and stared into the grayish blue eyes, a look of cautious content on his face. Byakuya caressed his cheek and kissed him sensual and slow, tasting the inside of the virgin teenage mouth, their tongues rubbing with need against each other.

“Ichigo.” Byakuya’s eyes held many words behind them, but all he could muster was the strawberry’s name. The word, his name, came thickly, hot, sticky, coating Byakuya’s throat, and he moaned from the very thought of having Ichigo in his mouth, back down his throat, being totally dominated by him. The irony was, that Ichigo would learn that the dominator was the one that was instigating the feeling of release, the one that was causing the moans, the sweats, the ear drum bursting climax that Byakuya had missed so.

Ichigo’s heart thudded within his chest as he stared at Byakuya. From the moment he and Renji had stolen Rukia away, he was mesmerized by the Kuchiki. At first he thought it was to be a pissing contest to see who was stronger, but as time passed he realized it was something deeper. Admiration? Yes. Fascination? Definitely. Obsession? Periodically. But to have Byakuya, writhing and grinding against him on the warm terrace of Chad’s apartment was a bit much to comprehend. Ichigo pulled away to breathe and gather his thoughts. He rolled from beneath Byakuya and pulled up a chair to sit beside him.

Both men appeared to grapple with their feelings and desires before Ichigo reached for Byakuya’s hands. “Byakuya. First of all, don’t laugh because I’m a kid or whatever, but I’ve never did that before. I’ve kissed someone, but never like that.”

“Let me guess. It was a woman that you kissed before, right? Never a man?” Byakuya was gentle and understanding with his words. Not very many people knew of his own romantic situations, and some thought Hisana was his first, last, and only. But then again, some are idiots.

Ichigo bit his lip and nodded, blushing. His first kiss had been after school once between himself and Tatsuki, and as warm and beautiful as she was, she didn’t give him butterflies or make him want to touch her, not the way Byakuya felt. Even as Byakuya asked his questions he was gently stroking Ichigo’s hands, and the contact was enough to make Ichigo’s heart explode.

“I hope kissing me was a wonderful experience for you, Ichigo.” The sound of his name on Byakuya’s lips visibly made the boy shudder, and he found himself leaning forward to claim and also be claimed by Byakuya again. This kiss was slow and melding, their tongues finding shelter in each other’s mouths. Byakuya inadvertently moaned into Ichigo’s mouth, making him place his hands under the pinstripe jacket to rub Byakuya through his shirt. All of the cat and mouse games of the evening came to a final culmination as Ichigo stood, still kissing his once rival, and pulling him toward a door on the side. He paused when Byakuya balked, and colored red.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Was this your first time too? I mean I know you were married once so it’s not your first time, but-” Ichigo’s prattle was silenced by a light kiss on the lips.

“No.” Byakuya gave him a rare smile, a smile that made Ichigo both shy but proud that he could cause something so beautiful to occur. Ichigo pushed open the door to the spare room reserved for him and pulled Byakuya inside, closing the door gently behind him.

***************************
Zaraki lay on his back, arm behind his head and stared at the tiles on the ceiling. Most of the inhabitants of the apartment were either sleeping or having sex, and neither bothered him. He was grateful that Chad was so tall and had a long couch; it fit him lengthwise perfectly, but the strange thing was that only hours ago it sat Kira, Ikkaku, Shuuhei, Renji, Ichigo, Orihime, and Rangiku comfortably.

Rangiku. She was sleeping snuggled next to Yumichika on the floor. He had watched her for about an hour now, periodically reaching to move the covers off of her when her forehead became damp, but always deciding not to as he didn’t want to startle her. There was an extra bedroom that he could have went into, but as mean and insane he was, selfishness was not a personality trait of his. Shuuhei, Kira, and Ikkaku had went back to the Seireitei, and Urahara and Yoruichi retired back to their shop, offering him a night’s refuge if he so desired. Much to their dismay, Renji had overheard and accepted the offer, looping his arms around theirs and ignoring the ‘freeloader-kun’ comments. He heard small noises coming from some of the bedrooms and smirked to himself, not being so removed from the affections from another to not realize what was taking place behind closed and not so far away doors.

He looked down at Orihime, who was slobbering profusely and leaving a damp spot on the carpet. He chuckled and got up slowly, stepping over Rangiku and Yumichika and carefully scooped Orihime up. Even though the girl was nothing but breasts, there were times when Zaraki carried her and she felt like a piece of lead. It may have been his drinking and fatigue, but he nearly dropped her.

“Hmmm…Sora, I made you cherry flavored natto,” Orihime muttered, flinging her arms around Zaraki. The disgusting combination of beans and cherries made his throat hitch and stomach lurch as he thought twice about dropping her on the floor and instead walked into a bedroom that had a strange smell inside, and on a table there was a beautiful contraption made of silver and glass with what looked to be 4 hoses attached. He set Orihime down on the bed gently and after covering her with the blanket, he walked over to it to examine it closer. There was a small bowl looking thing on top and just below it a wide plate. There were a few leaves inside the bowl he could make out, and also noticed the lighter beside the contraption.

“It’s called a hookah pipe.”

Zaraki stood and looked over at Nanao, who was scantily clad in a strapless black bra and a pair of extremely small shorts. Her hair was down and her glasses were off, and she looked exceptionally beautiful. She smiled at Zaraki before reaching for the pipe, the lighter, and after opening a drawer she removed a small wooden box.

“Usually this is the room Chad and I sleep together in, but his band is on tour and we…never mind, you don’t care.” She looked at Orihime in the bed and gave Zaraki a sly look and he held up his hands and shook his head.

“Not in a million years, Ise fukutaicho.” She shrugged and grinned, struggling with the items.

“Did you want to smoke with us? It’s imported from one of his cousins that lives in the Yucatan. Santa Luisa has never sent us a bad shipment yet, and I don’t think she ever will,” Nanao said, smiling and looking at the box.

“Nah, that’s quite alright. Save me some for later, though. I’ll probably need it.”

Nanao nodded and switched out of the door, and Zaraki couldn’t help notice how jiggly and cute her butt looked in the shorts she was wearing. He shook his head and went back out in the living room and moved to pick Rangiku up, and was caught off guard when her eyes flew open and her thumb went to his adam’s apple.

He looked down his nose at her and she stared back at him, her thumb firmly pressed against the cloth around his neck, as if to jab her thumb through the skin.

“I thought you were Gin.”

His face remained neutral. “I’m not. And if I was, I’d be hurt at such a greeting.”

She didn’t look happy. “Why am I in your arms?”

Zaraki fought against the instinct to put her down and show her why she was really in his arms. “You were sleeping, snoring actually and I had already moved Orihime in the bed and were going to move you in there next.”

Rangiku’s face relaxed and she slowly lowered her defensive thumb. “That was very nice of you. Thank you.” She waited for him to put her down, and cocked her head to the side when he didn’t. They looked at each other and she chuckled, closing her eyes.

“You are destined to be my hero, at least for tonight. You have saved me from Momo, and also from the floor. You should be highly exalted when we return home,” Rangiku kidded, smiling at him brightly.

Zaraki didn’t smile, but huffed out his chest. “I know, I’m a badass.” His face fell when she laughed.

“Just lay me down, please. And be careful because if you don‘t lay me right, they will do whatever they want. They tend to travel in my sleep.”

Zaraki looked confused.

“Them!” Rangiku motioned to her breasts, and Zaraki shook his head in an annoyed fashion. Obeying the command, Zaraki carried her into the bedroom and gently placed her beside Orihime, who immediately latched on to her, burying her head on one of Rangiku’s large breasts and placing her hand on the other one. Rangiku looked perturbed, and gave Zaraki a look as if to say ‘See! Toldja so!’. Zaraki stifled a laugh.

“Will you be here in the morning?” Her eyes changed and now said something entirely different to Zaraki, but maybe it was the effects of inhaling so close to the hookah, but he missed whatever it was.

“No.”

“Oh.” She looked crestfallen and turned her head. “Good night then, Zaraki taicho.”

Zaraki looked confused by the exchange, but shrugged and walked out of the room, gently closing the door behind him. As he walked out, he saw a light flooding from beneath one of the bedroom doors and heard a low laugh, a laugh that sounded a lot like Ichigo. He heard some moans, and laughter again, but not Ichigo’s. He heard a sound that made his cheeks flush and he rubbed his chin and smiled, glad his favorite opponent was having a good time. He strode over to Yumichika and gave him a subtle kick in the ribs.

“Up, Ayesegawa. We have to go do morning calisthenics.” A groan and muffled obscenities made him kick Yumichika harder, making the pretty man throw the covers off of him and pout angrily.

“Yes, Zaraki taicho.” Yumichika pouted, but then smiled when Zaraki raided the fridge and loaded their arms with sodas and fried chicken wings. As they left with their ill gotten gains, Zaraki turned and looked at the light on in Ichigo’s room, and grinned when he heard laughter a final time the light radiating from the door darkened. Yumichika opened his mouth to comment, but a slap to the back of the head promptly shut it. He didn’t want to cross Zaraki, and only hoped that the knot that was sure to come up on his head didn’t cause his perfect hair to be lopsided.
**************************

Ichigo held Byakuya’s hand as he turned on a lamp beside the bed. The room was slightly bigger than his room at his father’s house, and more simple, with only a western style bed, a desk and chair, some guitars mounted on the wall, and the small nightstand with the lamp. Byakuya looked around as he sat on the bed, bouncing a little. Ichigo chuckled and he blushed at his childish habit. Ukitake taicho always told him a good night’s sleep could be foretold on how firm a bed was. Ukitake taicho was also rarely wrong.

Ichigo smiled at Byakuya and walked up to him, placing his legs between Byakuya’s, and not to be one upped, the taicho moved his thigh over to bump against the side of Ichigo’s knee. He chuckled as the boy nearly lost balance and gripped onto his shoulder to steady himself. Ichigo stared deep into smoldering gray-blue eyes and caressed a soft royal cheek.

“I thought this was your first time,” Byakuya said, his voice suddenly hoarse and scratchy. Ichigo had him writhing and flop-flopping internally. He felt more in that caress than he had from anyone else in decades, if ever at all. He turned his head and kissed the calloused fingers, bringing up his shoulder to capture the hand that was cradling his face. Ichigo pushed Byakuya down on the bed, and his eyes lit up at the beautiful fan of raven locks that spread over the covers.

“How slow, even at falling, right?” Ichigo’s mouth curved into a mischievous smile, and he landed beside Byakuya, changing their positions on the bed. Byakuya lay beside Ichigo, tracing his jaw line with a cool finger, making the boy’s eyes flutter. He opened his mouth and descended upon Ichigo’s, taking long strokes with his tongue, slowly working against the helpless teenager’s. Ichigo moaned into Byakuya’s mouth, his hands trying painstakingly to remove the pinstripe jacket, amongst other things. Byakuya backed up, and keeping his eyes on Ichigo he took off the jacket and the shirt vest, baring his chest in the dim light. He also removed Ichigo’s jacket and shirt, smirking as the boy was clearly in awed by his form.

“You…are splendid,” Ichigo breathed, tracing over the washboard abs, speckled with marble scars. Byakuya’s chest hitched upon the contact of his fingers on Ichigo’s searing skin, and bent down to kiss at a jagged scar he painfully recognized as Senbonzakura’s calling card. He licked at the scar, and felt Ichigo buck underneath him.

“So eager, it must be because of your youth.” Byakuya smirked as he wriggled free from his pants, and Ichigo paused. He looked down and looked back up at Byakuya, and down again.

“No wonder you act like such a dick. Your prick is the length of my arm!” Byakuya burst out laughing, a genuine almost Renji-like laugh. The sound was rich and harmonious, and Ichigo found himself closing his eyes to the sound.

“You are quite humorous to be in the throes of passion, Ichigo. Besides, I think you may be around my size also; those pants are just screaming to be taken off.” He ran his hands over the lithe chest again, unbuttoning the jeans and zippering them down slowly. He pretended not to notice that Ichigo’s teeth were chattering and his features were tight with anticipation. He reached back up and kissed Ichigo, their tongues rubbing again, causing both of them to moan. Fingers were in Byakuya’s hair again, massaging his scalp as he kissed down Ichigo’s throat, nipping at the sensitive part near his ear. He moved to the scarred chest, licking and sucking at the hardened pink nipples, something else that made Ichigo buck against him. He moved down to kiss around his bellybutton, soft orange curls within his view.

“B-Byakuya?” Ichigo’s throat was dry and his voice sounded strained and shaky. Byakuya looked up at him, but continued kissing down the flat stomach.

“You don’t have to do that.” He threw his head back and uttered a cry, more erotic and sensual than any moan Byakuya had ever heard. His tongue had tasted the milky tip of Ichigo’s member, and it was obvious that aside from masturbation, embarrassing pelvic exams by Isshin, and diaper changes that Ichigo had never been touched, let alone licked or sucked down there. The boy’s fingers were clenched tightly on the bed sheets, to the point where his knuckles were turning a pasty white. Byakuya mouthed the velvety moist head, slowly bobbing his head back and forth, taking more in with each stroke. He knew what he was doing was driving Ichigo crazy, but the funny thing was, he was just doing the basics. Perhaps at another time and place he could really turn Ichigo out, enough to make the boy forget everything but Byakuya’s name.

Ichigo’s hands found their way back to Byakuya’s hair, and rubbed the strands in a loving way, endearment in his face. His eyes rolled back and he panted, feeling his release coming soon. He thought it rather rude to cum in Byakuya’s mouth, and also it was still slightly gross and foreign to him, even though it technically was him, his hot, spunky DNA. Byakuya looked up at Ichigo, and he knew what that face was. He speeded up his ministrations, and he could see the balls tightening, and knew what was next. Ichigo saw shiny bursts of light as he came, his eyes fully dilated, and even his inner hollow was rocked by the intensity of the orgasm. His breathing slowed and vision cleared, with Byakuya leaning over him, the strands of hair tickling him.

Ichigo pulled Byakuya down, tasting his saltiness on his lips, and wrapped his leg around the taicho’s back, bringing him in closer. Instinctively Byakuya gave a small thrust upwards, but remembered that Ichigo was a virgin and that his own fervor would have to be shelved in order to make sure Ichigo would be broken in properly.

“Lotion?…” By now taicho was beyond phrasing complete sentences, and Ichigo scrambled to reach for the baby oil gel in the nightstand as more heated kisses were exchanged between them. Ichigo all but threw the gel at Byakuya, causing both of them to pause and laugh.

“This more than likely will hurt. Just be patient and know that it hurts me to hurt you,” Byakuya murmured into Ichigo’s ear, making the boy freeze. It wasn’t the pain part that chilled him, he was used to pain between training with Yoruichi and fighting his father and other cretins daily. It was the latter part that Kuchiki said, about it hurting him also. He stared at Byakuya as he liberally coated the gel over three fingers and also felt the gel being squirted on his asshole. The sensation was weird, like he wanted to wipe the material away. His face changed when he felt the pain of the finger intruding inside of him. Instinct told him to move away, and the pain steadily increased, instead of fading like Byakuya said.

“Be patient, just another moment or so,” Byakuya soothed, adding the second finger and moving them up and down to stretch without tearing precious skin. Ichigo bared his teeth and hissed, suppressing the urge to push Byakuya away and concentrated his energy and thoughts away from the pain in his bottom. He took a breath and relaxed, and realized once he did that the movement became less painful, and eventually pleasurable. Byakuya was intently staring at the puckered pink hole, eyes darting between that and Ichigo’s face to make sure he wasn’t hurting him.

“More,” Ichigo sighed, spreading his legs to give more access. Byakuya had already added his third finger, and Ichigo twisted and flexed beneath him, seeking a release, but never finding it.

“Tell me you want me inside of you, Ichigo. Tell me,” Byakuya drawled, his breath slow and labored as his fingers were three knuckles deep into his lover.

Ichigo met his eyes and sighed wantonly. “Byakuya, I want you buried inside of me, at this moment, right now.” The words were calmly steady and seductive, and Byakuya just had to comply. He leaned forward to claim the ambrosial lips as he guided himself to Ichigo’s entrance. He pressed forward and sucked in his breath as Ichigo’s flesh welcomed his length, enveloping him in delicious heat. The murmurs and groans from beneath him did nothing to sate him, and actually increased his desires.

Byakuya began a slow paced thrust, allowing their bodies to adjust to one another. His mouth was against Ichigo’s, but they weren’t kissing, just really breathing in slow pants against each other. His hands were clutching muscular arms, and his eyes were locked onto Ichigo’s, only looking away to watch his own thrusts as if to remind himself that it was his body, his mouth, his dick that was causing such an erotic scene. He released the arms to grab the headboard of the bed for more leverage, rhythmically gyrating his hips to make sure he was as deep as possible.

“Ohhh!!!” Ichigo nearly screamed, and his whole body went slick with sweat. Byakuya gave him a confused look, and then burst out laughing. Ichigo had apparently never had his prostate touched. He blushed and looked frustrated, which was not the intention. Byakuya gave him an apologetic kiss, and started to thrust at an angle, gasping when Ichigo flexed his anal muscles inadvertently. The boy was moaning, gritting his teeth and digging his fingernails into the Kuchiki’s back, painfully close to his orgasm.

“Ichigo…cum for me. Release yourself, and I’ll do the same.” The words were practically sang into the trembling boy’s ear, and he realized he was holding back. As if to aid him, Byakuya took one hand off the headboard and placed it onto Ichigo, alternating his strokes between soft and slow to rough and fast. Ichigo’s mouth opened and a low moan forced it’s way from his mouth as he came, and Byakuya, almost feral in his lust, couldn’t help but cup the satiny fluid and lick some of it from his hand, his bottom lip dragging sensually across his palm, and Ichigo nearly came again from the mere sight.

Byakuya spread the rest of Ichigo over his chest, running his hand over his pecs and down his stomach, his gray blue eyes glittering with wanton lust. He reached up to kiss Ichigo, again introducing him to his tangy taste. He continued to pound into Ichigo, his thrusts becoming faster and faster. He felt himself tighten and he kissed Ichigo deeply as he came inside of him, coating the virgin insides with his seed. He buried his head in Ichigo’s neck, kissing him gently, savoring one of, if not the best orgasms of his life. There was a dull pain in his back, and also in his forehead, as most of the blood in his gigai was obviously pooled below the waist. He pulled back and looked at Ichigo, who gave him a silly grin back. They both laughed, as the scenario got slightly awkward again. Ichigo looked like he wanted to talk, but words weren’t needed, not at this stage. Byakuya nodded and smiled genuinely, and Ichigo thought he would faint.

“Just sleep, Ichigo. Tomorrow will take care of itself.” Byakuya reached to turn off the light, and pulled the covers over their naked bodies, wrapping his arms around Ichigo. He didn’t know himself why he had so easily given in to Ichigo, but for whatever the reason, he was glad for the first time in decades that he didn’t have to spend the night alone in a cold, dark bed with nothing but self loathing thoughts and pestering regrets.

A/N:
*looks anxious*
Did I do okay? :)