Sinner

A/N: Yay! New chapter! Excited? I hope so. Oh, this story was recommended on somebody’s blog thingy and damn, that’s a great feeling. I’m such a praise-grubbing nerd.

Onto the reviews!

Surreptitious Sinner: Thank you so much for the great review. Yes, I specifically work on the portrayal of the characters and give the readers a psychological understanding of the characters. However, sometimes that can be my downfall because I focus too much on the mental development of the characters than the plot, but I’m glad you like it so far.

Sean: Heh, I know exactly what you mean! I mean seriously, could you imagine poor little Hitsu in a prison porno? The kid should get “fuck me” tattooed on his forehead.

Nusku: People have learned to ignore me for the most part. However, I too get the occasional “what the fuck” looks.

madam-malia: You…make me happy. Such praise, and I’m not sure I deserve it, but I’ll greedily accept it anyways. I’m glad that I turned you onto the wonders of Gin/Hitsu and I would be delighted if you would allow me to read your oneshot, because I must admit that I love your writing. Thanks so much sweetie for giving me such a fantastic review.

Kris: Yus! Lust is so much better then love sometimes…well, it’s at least sexier. Thank you for being in lust with my story and here’s a new chapter to sate you.

Esther: Yay, I’m glad you noticed the purpose of that. Oh GOD, I love Gin too! We should have a conversation on how much we love him. Yes?

Catarotta: Oh hells yes, that’s what I need, a good spanking! How very considerate of you to punish me in such a sexy manner. Oh and that little thing you wrote me. I WANT MORE! NOW! Please? It really was brilliant and I would love for you to supply me with more Gin/Hitsu sexiness. Also, I made an account…what now?

Monica: Oh yes, Gin HAD to save him, because one, I don’t do rape and two, only Ichimaru gets to molest Toshiro! I do hope you agree with me. I love your review, thank you so much for putting a smile on my face.

Lia: Thank you for your kind review!

Dracoqueen22: No need to worry, Love. You can review anytime you want, it’s always a welcome treat when you do. Especially to get praise from an author with such great talent as yourself. I need to catch up on your story actually! It’s one of my favorites on here. Thank you for everything you said and know that it really means a lot to me. Ah yes, blood licking…yum.

Rubedo Jr.: Honey, you have no idea how excited I get when I see that it’s you who has reviewed. Trust me, you deserved every bit of praise I left in that review for your wonderful story and yes, I know exactly how it feels to get wonderful reviews. I could go off on this long tangent about how much your reviews motivate me, but I’ll spare you the rambling. Just know that you completely rock my socks off and I eagerly await the update of your fic. *clings* still mine!

Misaka: Yes, I wanted to make sure that Hitsugaya’s hair and the color in general was present through the entirety of the chapter. Thank you for noticing and commenting on it!

p-sama7: Oh, trust me, I love his hair as well. Sorry about the dying disaster, but Matsumoto is pretty damn hot, so it wasn’t too much of a loss. Thank you!

You guys are the shit!…and I mean that in the best way possible…
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Temptation

He held the small bundle loosely in his arms, his expression as sly as ever as he ran his fingers repeatedly through now untangled white hair and watched as the chest below him rose and fell in even breaths. Even when he was alone, even when there was no one there to see, his expression remained the same.

Same slitted eyes.

Same wide, almost cruel, smile.

Same covertness that had long since lost its importance in the now closed eyes of the only other occupant in the room.

Perhaps there was some comfort in keeping up a tired charade in the face of nothingness.

Yet, Ichimaru really had no mind for such things. So as vacant as the kindness in his smile was, so were his thoughts on the matter.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been sitting like this, with the icy taicho on his lap, his face relaxed and void of the usual scowl that adorned his pretty features. In all reality it was probably only half an hour, but Ichimaru had nowhere in particular that he wanted, nor needed, to be, so at the moment time held no significance for him.

Hitsugaya shifted slightly in his arms and Ichimaru paused in his ministrations as the little taicho’s face fell into an annoyed frown and he mumbled something that vaguely resembled “Guh…tha’s Hitsugaya-taicho t’ juu…” before his expression calmed once more and he turned his cheek to rub unconsciously against Ichimaru’s chest.

Ichimaru let out a small snicker at the chibi’s actions. If Hitsugaya could see himself at the moment Ichimaru would finally have proof that it was indeed possible to drop dead from horrific embarrassment. Actually, it probably would be very entertaining to witness and Ichimaru debated silently with himself on whether or not to poke the sleeping boy into awareness.

In the end he opted on continuing his task of running his fingers through the pure white hair and mussing it into a disarray that he found so sickeningly adorable. In all truth, he found the disdain that Hitsugaya held for his hair to be quite amusing. Whether it was because of the color, the way it refused to be tamed, or the fact that it drew so much attention, Ichimaru
wasn’t sure, perhaps it was a combination of all three, but no matter the reason, the hatred the boy felt for it was apparent. Well, it probably wasn’t as apparent to others as it was to him, but he was always better at seeing and understanding things more then others were. It was that talent that got him where he was in the first place. To be able to deceive properly you first must know the person you are deceiving.

And Ichimaru knew Hitsugaya. Of all the things he had lied about in his lifetime, this was not one of those things.

It was so easy for Ichimaru to see the uncertainty that was brought when people cooed and worried over him. It was so simple to understand the anger that soon followed hotly behind the uncertainty. Unseen eyes that saw better than most witnessed the grimace, the sneer, the frown, and the cold glare that meant more than simple annoyance as the harmfully unaware fingers of those who were beneath the young taicho threaded and kneaded and ruffled through his hair. A gesture of affection that only brought shame and it was deliciously clear to Ichimaru.

Perhaps that was the reason why he so often ran his own fingers through that hair, why he played so inconspicuously on the issue. He knew that the slightest bit of attention that those white locks brought was just another chip broken off of Hitsugaya’s strong façade. The psychological connection that Hitsugaya held between his hair and his strength was much more deeper than what was seen at face value, and Ichimaru delighted in being the one to twist that line between his own finger much like he did to those white strands of hair, and in the end whether or not the breakdown made Hitsugaya stronger or destroyed him, it would be Ichimaru to sweep up the broken pieces with that ever present grin on his face.

And the thought of anyone else doing it in his place brought on a very strange sensation indeed. He thought to nearly an hour before when he had been making his way towards his little captive’s room and he had felt it, that tingling sensation that told him that something was wrong and it had only been confirmed when he had heard that sweet and sour voice calling out in desperation, calling out his name, the tone high and strained with unconcealed panic. He had used shunpo the rest of the way to the reiatsu blocking room, and the sight that had greeted him had made his fox smile falter. He saw the flailing brat with one leg trapped helplessly beneath another’s body while the other one was awkwardly spread wide. His hands restrained securely above his head by long, pale fingers that were not his own. His eyes screwed shut, tears running down his cheeks to catch on tight lips, and a hand cupping him, rubbing harshly at his young and unwilling cock. All of these things had burned themselves vividly into his mind and with it had come a cold feeling that he only knew well enough to be able to recognize it; fury. It hadn’t been that intense and uncontrollable sensation that he had heard others describe it as. It had been ice cold, calm and collective, but it had been there. And even now, as he sat there with the boy in his arms and not someone else’s, that feeling was there below the surface and he could easily slit Nnoitra’s throat and watch the crimson tide that followed without a blink of an eye. And he would revel in that blood on his hands, muse over the fact that blood would be the only thing beautiful to come from the espada.

He chuckled at the dark thoughts. What interesting images possessiveness brought. It was very strangle indeed. “Scary, scary…” He snickered, effectively causing Hitsugaya to stir.

He peered down and watched in silence as Hitsugaya slowly came into awareness. First he shifted slightly, his butt rubbing unconsciously against Ichimaru’s legs, which the silver haired man couldn’t help but grin wolfishly at. Then one teal eye opened hesitantly, followed by the other to squint around the white room. Then suddenly that tiny body stiffened, and ever so slowly Hitsugaya turned his head to face him.

3, 2, 1

Those beautiful eyes shot open comically wide.

“What the hell, Ichimaru?!” Hitsugaya immediately began to struggle but Ichimaru just tightened his grip, effectively pinning Hitsugaya’s back to his chest.

“I didn’ see ya complainin’ a minute ago.” Ichimaru said in a mock hurt voice, though his amusement was clearly evident.

“Bakayaro, that’s because I was unconscious!” Hitsugaya growled, trying in vain to dig his elbow into Ichimaru’s gut.

“Ne, be careful Shiro-chan, yer words might jus’ hurt me.” Ichimaru warned with a small giggle, finding the situation to be delightfully entertaining.

“If only.” Hitsugaya bit out as a feeling of helplessness washed over him at the realization that once again without any reiatsu he was just in the body of a child, fighting against a grown man.

Suddenly Ichimaru’s hand shot up to grasp his chin, his grip only firm enough to serve as a warning, and Hitsugaya felt his head being turned and thin lips coming to rest against the shell of his ear. “Is that any way ta treat someone who jus’ saved ya from bein’ fucked an’ deflowered brutally into a mattress?”

Hitsugaya emitted a small gasp and his body went limp as Ichimaru confirmed something that his mind had been trying to block out for the past few minutes.

Only once Hitsugaya stopped struggling did Ichimaru finally let go of him. Hitsugaya slowly rose from his position on the older man’s lap and took a few staggering steps forward before his arms rose and his palms rested on the wall in front of him and he carefully rested his forehead against the cool surface as well. His legs trembled at the memory and his fists clenched abruptly in anger.

“How dare he…how could he…?” He began, but wasn’t able to form the words completely.

He didn’t even notice that Ichimaru had moved until there was a warm body very close to his back. His breath caught in his throat as two hands reached forward to rest on either side above his head, and slowly, almost sensually, those hands slid down until they rested atop Hitsugaya’s own fists. They worked carefully to open his clenched fingers until both his and Ichimaru’s palms were pressed flat against the surface of the wall. Ichimaru’s hands remained astride his own, and not once did Hitsugaya make a move, his eyes content to watch in a sort of daze as he felt even breathing of the chest pressed against him and the warm breath puffing against the top of his head.

“Tha answer is simple, Neko. Tha way ya look, tha way ya smell, like clean an’ pretty innocence that is so hard ta come by in this place.” And suddenly one of those hands had abandoned its place atop his own and traveled up his arm, to trace deceptively gentle fingers along his neck, before sliding down his back in an exquisite fashion that had Hitsugaya clenching his eyes shut, until finally it stopped on the curve of his hip.

“Please, Ichimaru…” Hitsugaya began, repeating over and over in his mind that he only wanted Ichimaru to stop.

“That way ya beg. Don’ ya know that all tha ‘please stops’ an’ tha ’God nos’ only make them wanna fuck ya harder and faster, jus’ ta see yer pretty mouth open in a scream? We are not good men, Shiro-chan an’ this is not a good world. How many times mus’ I tell ya? Innocence like ya is only meant ta be broken in a place like this.” Soon that other hand had joined its partner in resting on Hitsugaya’s slender hips and they were inching forward, tracing soothing circles on the tender skin on the inside of his hips, and Hitsugaya couldn’t help but wonder at Ichimaru’s ability to be so gentle as pure venom slipped unabashedly from his lips.

“Stop, I don’t want this.” Hitsugaya whispered as one of those hands slid along the smooth skin of his cloth covered stomach, a finger tracing over the bellybutton that Ichimaru could feel just under the thin fabric. How many times had he said those words? He couldn’t remember.

Ichimaru leaned down in what for anyone else would have been an awkward position and Hitsugaya could distinctly feel the upward turn of the lips that now rested lightly on the skin of his nape. He shuddered, and pleaded that it was in disgust. “Convince yerself first before ya try ta convince me.” The same hand that had been resting on his stomach moved upwards, the palm lingering to run lightly over one already pebbling nipple before sliding up the column pf his throat until the tips of long bony fingers were tracing the outline of his lips, and he stood frozen in a combination of anger and something else that only brought terror.

“My mind does not want this.” Hitsugaya tried to say it more firmly, but it sounded weak as his breathing became harsh as he noticed the way those fingers moved against his lips as he spoke.

“I don’ think ya even believe that one.” Ichimaru said simply, before his fingers dipped inside Hitsugaya’s slightly parted mouth and he felt the brief touch of a slick and soft tongue before teeth were clamping down hard on his intrusive digits. He pried his fingers away, noticing with a slight giggle the purplish indentions that Hitsugaya’s teeth left on the tips of his fingers.

Hitsugaya’s head was once more leaning against the wall in front of him and he panted as his mind tried to work through the haze of rage and what he couldn’t describe as anything else but arousal, and figure out why in the hell he had let Ichimaru touch him that way without putting up even a little bit of a fight. This wasn’t like him at all. What the hell was he doing?!

His fist clenched once more and he slammed it into the wall.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit! Why do you have to touch me like that!?” He cried out, his voice already rasped from anger and tears and lust. Hands were on his hips once more and he was suddenly being spun almost violently around, his back now pressed against the wall, and Ichimaru holding him firmly in place, not only with his hands but the expression on his face as well. The intensity threatened to drown him.

“Don’ be naïve, Chibi. My intentions are not nearly as pure as ya wish them ta be.” Then Ichimaru was leaning down once more, only this time they were face to face, and Hitsugaya didn’t, couldn’t, break the eye contact he held as those thin lips came closer and closer to his own. It was only when they were a hair’s breath away and Hitsugaya was trembling from fear, anticipation, and the urge to run for it, that Ichimaru spoke once more. “Even though ya won’ admit it, ya cant hide it from me. Tha thought of someone touch ya, kissin’ ya, fuckin’ ya, scares tha piss outta ya, but at any moment o’ any day, ya’d rather it be me then anybody else. Am I righ’, Hitsugaya-taicho?” Before Hitsugaya could respond, before he could tell Ichimaru that no, he wasn’t fucking right, chapped lips were pressed against his own. Hitsugaya’s eyes went wide and his hands snaked upwards and wrapped themselves in Ichimaru’s hakama in a feeble attempt to push the other away, but his fingers caught in the fabric as hands tightened on his hips, causing him to gasp out in pain and a clever and hot tongue to slither its way into his mouth.

And…

And…

Dammit, he couldn’t think! He couldn’t comprehend the completely new experience as the tongue flicked devilishly against his own before running over the sensitive skin at the top of his mouth, causing his knees to buckle and a groan to sound clearly from his throat.

His face heated as Ichimaru chuckled between their parted lips, and just as Hitsugaya contemplated biting down in retaliation, that tongue ran teasingly one last time over his own nonparticipating one before retreating fully, leaving Ichimaru to nip tauntingly at his bruised bottom lip before pulling away completely.

Ichimaru studied him for a minute while all Hitsugaya could do was pant and glare up at him in indignation.

“That’s that first thing I’ll steal from ya, Shiro. By the end yer gonna give everythin’ willingly.” Then Ichimaru was turning gracefully and leaving Hitsugaya alone in the room to wonder why everything felt so much emptier once the door had clicked shut.