Darkprism (demented_dee) wrote,

Bleach Fanfiction // Beautiful Surrender

Title: Beautiful Surrender
Series: Monoshizukanohi//Bleach AU
Author: Darkprism
Genre: Kinky fiction/romance
Rating: Mature.
Pairing: Ikkaku & Yumichika
Word Count: ~5500
Warnings/Notes: Set in Monoshizukanohi AU, D/s relationships, (very) mild crossover, nudity, language, impact play, toys, orgasm denial, voyeurism, other.
Spoilers: None whatsoever.

Summary: It's just an average day for Ikkaku: sparring, food shopping, and home to meet Yumichika, who has some lovely licentious plans to celebrate his coming home from a modeling gig.

Madarame Ikkaku threw open the locker door, and it banged against its neighbor with a metallic clang. He ran a hand over his smooth head to the back of his neck, stretching left then right with audible pops of complaining vertebrae. The dull pains and aches were satisfying in a way Ikkaku couldn't quantify or explain: they just were. And now for the important question: to shower here or offend everybody on the train on the way home? Ikkaku grinned to himself before sighing and yanking off his Victory Gym training staff jersey.

"Impressive," said a voice that made Ikkaku grunt and turn to assess the lithe blond man passing by on his way to another locker. Name… name… Ikkaku couldn't remember the guy's name. He didn't handle the newbie's membership tour or initial assessment; Yumi had taken one look at the guy and was off the barstool at the health counter and across the room with an expansive, "Welcome to Victory, sir. I'm Yumichika -- how might I serve you today?" before Ikkaku could properly snort or roll his eyes.

"Eh?" Ikkaku answered.

Blondie shrugged. "Watched the match. You handled yourself well." The guy smiled, pulling his hair back into a low tail. His blue Under Armour shirt had a high collar that barely covered what looked like a cross-hatching of scars, and Ikkaku wondered what they'd feel like under a questing tongue. Ikkaku shoved the thought aside, watching Blondie reach into the locker to remove small gold glasses that he perched on his nose.

Ikkaku gazed at blue eyes while he started undoing the drawstring on his pants. "Thanks." Salvador? Shoji? Sora? The hell was that man's--

"Madarame!" Kenpachi boomed, bursting into the room like a thunderclap. A sadist's grin split the large man's face, and his gi flapped about legs that were roughly the circumference of small trees. Dark hair was matted back against his skull, silver bells woven into the dreads.

Ikkaku wondered if Kenpachi's niece was responsible for that bit of decoration, but he turned and bowed, proud that he did it with nude grace. "I am honored, sen--"

"Bah," Kenpachi complained with a wave of his hand before it struck Ikkaku on a sore shoulder. Ikkaku flailed for the lockers and regained balance. "After such a match, give me the honor of friendly banter. I don't need that subservient shit."

Ikkaku grinned. "True," he conceded, knowing that all too well but still tripping over trying to treat Kenpachi as an equal. The man was a giant in more than stature: his presence, ability, success, and brilliance still left Ikkaku forever feeling like the scrawny kid in which Kenpachi saw promise and took under his formidable wing.

"Feeling good, then?" Kenpachi asked, dark eyes searching Ikkaku's face.

"Yeah," Ikkaku replied, nodding. "Why? Ready to go again, old man?"

Kenpachi threw his head back in a throaty, affectionate chuckle that made Ikkaku suppress a shiver. "Always. But isn’t Ayasegawa due back today?"

Ikkaku grabbed a towel off the bench behind him and slung it around his waist before slamming the locker shut. "Yeah. Coming in tonight."

"Mm," Kenpachi acknowledged, throwing an arm around Ikkaku's shoulders and walking with him toward the showers. "Go easy on yourself, Agatsuma!" he called to the blond man.

"Humbly I say, not a chance in hell, Zaraki," Agatsuma answered.

Kenpachi chuckled. "I love the ones who enjoy all aspects of the good fight. Like you." He paused, considering. "Though that one is strange."

Ikkaku refrained from asking how so, thinking that "strange" to Kenpachi was better left undefined. After all these years, the man still baffled Ikkaku in what he saw and didn't see; knew and didn't know. One minute the man was insightful and ingenious; the next he acted like a blood-thirsty thug. Ikkaku loved it -- loved Kenpachi, really -- but respected the boundaries as best as he could, though right now the heavy arm hugging him sideways made him grateful sheer exhaustion depleted his body in more ways than one.

"Been away a while, hasn't he?" Kenpachi asked.

Ikkaku played catch up with the other man's backtracking. "Yumi? Yeah. Modeling gig."

Kenpachi's derisive snort echoed Ikkaku's mental one. "Off my schedule for something like that. Vain bastard doesn't need encouragement."

"Tell me about it."

"I don't know how you live with the man." Kenpachi stopped at the glass doors leading into the shower area; faced Ikkaku with one bear paw on Ikkaku's shoulder. "The temptation and need for a pleasant tumble would be there all the time." The sadist's grin returned, and black eyes danced in hunger and mirth. "Most distracting."

For the millionth time Ikkaku wondered if Kenpachi meant his implied innuendo or if he was being literal. Some days the man acted like he knew Ikkaku and Yumi were lovers and other days he acted oblivious to the concepts of gay, straight, animal, vegetable, or mineral. Ikkaku thought it happened because to Kenpachi, the lines between fucking and fighting were blurred beyond recognition.

Yumi just thought Kenpachi was prone to random bouts of moronic.

"It does make it hard to get dinner ready on some nights," Ikkaku said.

"Bah," Kenpachi grumbled. "Put him in his place, Madarame."

Ikkuku bit his tongue on a host of disrespectful replies and shut down a horde of mental images. "Oh. I do. Regularly."

"And get him back to work next week. Enough of this pretty business." Kenpachi gripped Ikkaku's arm in a friendly vice. "Not worthy."

Kenpachi didn't clarify if he meant Yumi was better than the modeling that paid him roughly six times what Kenpachi's salary did, if Ikkaku was worthy of more than a too-pretty bastard for a roommate, or who the hell knew what. Ikkaku grunted, body telling him that heat, steam, and home were all better ideas than standing there trying to decode Kenpachi speak. "Agreed," Ikkaku tried, relaxing when the answer seemed to satisfy his mentor.

"I'm off to Yachiru's," Kenpachi said, releasing Ikkaku and abruptly walking away. "A good match always makes me crave her Danishes."

The idea of Kenpachi eating pastries at his niece's café still did strange things to Ikkaku's sense of reality. He shook it off. "Give her my best."

"A most excellent match," Kenpachi said by way of wistful answer, his voice booming in the concrete and tile room. "And ice the knee. You went down hard in the end."

Ikkaku gnashed his teeth, stifling the urge to tell Kenpachi that he wasn't the only one who went down hard once or twice in the sparring session. But until the day came when Ikkaku got closer than merely smelling victory instead of savoring it, he would take their matches as lessons of skill assessment instead of focused humiliation.

"But someday…" Ikkaku muttered as he went into the showers, found a stall, and yanked the curtain closed behind him. Smiling at the improbability of beating the master, Ikkaku turned the water on full blast and tried to think only of injury and recovery else he start to dwell on Yumi and the beautiful man's proper… place…

Ikkaku shut off the hot water and grinned a snarl into arctic streams.


One train ride and a brisk three-block walk later, Ikkaku juggled grocery sacks and keys in front of his and Yumi's apartment. Muttering around the stack of mail in his mouth, Ikkaku got inside, slammed shut the door with one foot, and toed off his shoes. He flicked on lights and made his way through the two-bedroom that he and Yumi kept talking about forsaking in favor of a condo but never quite got around to making the move. Yumi had practically killed himself to make the place presentable -- his exact word -- and Ikkaku admitted the results were nice. The walls were brilliant hues of blue and green, the accents cream, the furniture an interesting mesh of glass and heavy wood. Yumi's taste in décor and art were, of course, impeccable, and he would happily tell anyone exactly how spectacular they were as soon as guests arrived and admired.

Ikkaku dropped keys on the glass dining table and set down the grocery bags on the kitchen counter with a grateful noise. He sorted the mail, threw out the junk, and dropped the rest on the table for Yumi to see. Checking the clock, Ikkaku calculated that he had enough time to unpack food and get dinner started with plenty of spare seconds for a beer or two. Relax and unwind before his lover arrived and the frantic sex began.

Chuckling in a mixture of enthusiasm and chagrin, Ikkaku opened a cabinet door to put away a box of pasta and stopped when he saw a golden flicker out of the corner of his eye. Peering around the cabinets, Ikkaku spotted the tea light floating in a glass bowl on the coffee table in the living room. He paused, listening, and didn't hear the tell-tale sounds of another human being in the apartment. Breathing deeply, he smelled lavender, and his guts twisted in anticipation and something akin to dread.

Striding out of the kitchen, Ikkaku approached the table like one would approach a land mine, and he let go of a long, deep breath when he saw the note. Pale purple envelope, scrawling script spelling out Ikkaku's name, and he smirked at the wisteria-patterned paper.

"Someone's in a bitch-ass mood," Ikkaku mumbled, before blowing out the scented candle and picking up the letter. Yumi hated purple, hated floral anything, and the fireworks that erupted last year when Renji gave Yumi the stationary as a Christmas gift had been awe-inspiring. Ikkaku howled with laughter at Renji's death wish, but unfortunately Yumi spared Renji's life when the redhead managed to grapple Yumi to a stop and pulled out a gift card to Tobi's from his pocket. Too bad, really, though Ikkaku and Yumi did enjoy the dinner.

Ikkaku flopped onto the couch and removed a page covered in Yumichika's perfect handwriting. Dearest Ikkaku... Home early and stopped by to leave you a token of my affection…be back later…

"Oh Jesus," Ikkaku cursed, laughing and shaking his head. It was going to be one of those nights. Apparently the time apart and the stress of the modeling job were wearing on Yumi; wearing him awfully damned thin if the lengthy detail of the note was any indication. Ikkaku finished reading, stood up, and twisted side to side until his back popped. This on top of the gym was going to be interesting. Damn pretty men and their fucking demands. Ikkaku sighed, resigned, and rotated his shoulders to loosen them up on the way to the bedroom, groceries and plans for the evening completely forgotten and derailed.


A faint click of lock, the drag of resetting chain, the soft clatter of shoes on hardwood, and in his head Ikkaku began to count silent steps from entry to bedroom. His heartbeat spiked, he felt a flush race over his skin, and half his mind thought, About goddamned time while the other half wailed, Shit, not yet.

Knuckles politely rapped, and it took Ikkaku a second to find his voice. He swallowed while his mind warred between need and what bordered on irrational anger, relieved when his words were steady even if his body wasn't.

"Come in."

The hinges creaked, and Ikkaku willed himself not to look at the mirror in front of him, but it was a losing battle and Ikkaku knew it. He lifted his chin and refused to allow himself to tremble at the sight of Yumichika in the doorway: thin fingers on the knob, pale eyes wide, hair longer than normal to touch shoulders, and lips parted before a sliver of tongue flicked to wet them. There were feathers woven into a braid that fell across his right cheek, he wore a silky forest green shirt that was already untucked, the tails brushing narrow, denim-clad thighs. He was the essence of fuckable; beautiful as always, poised and pristine.

And utterly untouchable at the moment.

Ikkaku saw Yumichika's expression shift from delight to tender to hungry in swift seconds that dragged in time to the speed of Yumi's eyes roaming over Ikkaku's bare skin.

"Oh," Yumi sighed, closing the door and starting to undo the buttons on his shirt.

Ikkaku dropped his chin; stared at the black fabric of the wide bench where he waited on hands and knees, vulnerable and compliant. "What?" he asked, hating how hoarse and thick his voice sounded to his own ears.

"You know what," Yumi answered, the words a melodic caress that Ikkaku swore he felt sweep over his body. Ikkaku heard movement and clothing fall to the floor; listened to the zip of silk as Yumi retrieved his favorite robe off its hanger on the back of their door.

Harsh words were on the tip of Ikkaku's tongue -- something about if he asked a damned question, he needed to hear the answer regardless of what he supposedly did or didn't know -- but cool, dry hands touched his lower back before nails sliced down his thighs. Instead of reprimand, a quiet gasp escaped Ikkaku's lips as Yumi hummed and began to massage and map Ikkaku's body. A gentle knead to his calves, a squeeze to the bottoms of Ikkaku's feet; trailing fingertips back up to pet Ikkaku's naked ass.

"You look incredible," Yumichika answered, and Ikkaku deliberately unwound his fingers from fists to flat. "I've missed you," Yumi whispered, and Ikkaku stifled a sound when the jeweled plug pressed minutely deeper into his body. "Thought only of this and you for days and days," Yumi continued on a sigh, pushing once more on his favorite toy up Ikkaku's ass before skimming over Ikkaku's back. Ikkaku glanced up at the mirror to catch his lover's adoring, admiring look and had to shut his eyes. Seeing Yumi want him like that made his cock twitch, and he whined behind pressed lips when discomfort mingled with pain lashed through him.

"Mm," Yumi murmured as fingers danced over clenched abs and nudged molded plastic. "The cage?"

"You said--" Ikkaku started, stopped, and shuddered when Yumi's nail teased his shaft through the venting slits of the contraption covering his dick and cinching tightly around his balls. "That I could…"

"Do what you needed to restrain yourself, yes," Yumichika finished. He touched the tiny padlock securing the cage and purred, stepped to the side, and knelt next to the bench at the foot of their bed. He stroked Ikkaku's cheek with the back of his hand. "I love that it takes something more extreme than a mere ring, lover," he said in praise and Ikkaku met the other man's eyes.

Ikkaku's breathing went hectic at the affectionate smile that turned Yumi's lips. God, but it'd been too long since he'd seen that, felt this touch, had what he wanted and denied himself so damned close. He didn't know what his face betrayed, but Yumi made a soft sound and kissed him: light, careful, easy.

"Tell me how many days it's been since you came," Yumi asked over Ikkaku's mouth.

"Nineteen," Ikkaku answered. Nearly three weeks since they began the newest round of their most loved and hated game, and this one outlasted all others. And despite over four hundred and fifty of the longest, torturous, most evil hours he'd ever experienced in his life, Ikkaku was determined to continue at all costs and against all better sense.

"Amazing," Yumi said before kissing Ikkaku again. Long lashes fluttered over eyes that Ikkaku knew to be Yumi's least favorite color even though the beautiful man insisted that they were merely blue. His breath stuttered when the smooth pads of Yumi's fingers outlined his temples, cheekbones, chin. "Tell me what you did on two nights while I was away."

Yumichika this close and touching him was too damned good and too damned tempting, and Ikkaku closed his eyes to find darkness and his answer. "Edged," he replied, the word slithering from between clenched teeth as he remembered lying in bed, the texted commands from his lover glowing on the sheet in the dark. Ikkaku cursed the air shades of the deepest bruise as he stroked himself, so hard he hurt -- balls tight, head slick, desire thudding like liquid chaos in his veins. He stopped when he was close -- when he could taste relief -- and grabbed the phone. He snapped images and sent them to a supposedly lonely Yumi so the other man could jerk off and rest for the next day.

"Tell me how many," Yumi said, the rushed request making Ikkaku dizzy.

"Three dozen the first night," Ikkaku said, eyes rolling and head tilting when Yumi kissed his throat. "The second… just a few fucking strokes and I was done…"

"God," Yumi muttered, a shiver rocking his shoulders under the thin, sky blue silk of his robe. He laid another light kiss to Ikkaku's skin, spoke just behind an ear. "I looked at your pictures hundreds of times. Came so hard one night I woke up the girl sharing the room."

Ikkaku wheezed a laugh, rolled into the hand rubbing circles on his skin. "And now I'm home," Yumi said.

"Mm," Ikkaku answered, all his focus shifting to the manicured fingernails etching a path down his spine.

"And you got my letter."

"Yeah," Ikkaku husked, the discomfort and irritation he clung to so he could last for another round fading into longing and sheer heat as he listened to Yumichika's voice; as he concentrated on the other man's touch and care given to Ikkaku's state of body and mind. Yumi didn't push too much; didn't tease too long, didn't linger or do the things that Ikkaku knew Yumi wanted but held in check. The game of denial and the rules they created and followed to keep it going made the room swim.

"Know I'll do exactly as it says."

Ikkaku couldn't stop the shiver, and his head lolled forward, hanging limp. "Yeah." He tried to get control of his breathing as Yumichika rose; tried to find an edge of sanity to clutch when Ikkaku knew he made and walked into his own trap. Yumi was all about the goddamned choices. Ikkaku read the letter and chose to consent to this night, so here he was as asked: on all fours with his ass plugged and his cock restrained by toys he got to pick. Yumi wanted impact, and Ikkaku knew the desire for it was twofold: Yumi liked it and Ikkaku didn't, so it'd be easier to hold back if he dealt with pain. It was why Ikkaku chose the cage and why he laid out the heavy flogger on the bed for Yumi to use.

"Lovely," Yumi said, and Ikkaku jerked when a hand gripped the back of his skull. A hot tongue dipped into his ear, teeth nipped, and Ikkaku sucked a sharp inhale. "And now you'll take what you need, give me what I want, and I'm going to thoroughly enjoy the moment when you want to come and, alas, cannot."

Ikkaku snarled, Yumichika stepped away, and when the first thud of tails struck Ikkaku's shoulder in a warm-up blow, a blazing neon collection of letters flashed in his mind's eye:


Another crash of leather to his shoulders, and Ikkaku sealed his lips on speaking his chosen word that would stop Yumi cold: make the man drop the flogger in favor of letting Ikkaku find fast release. A smack and Ikkaku recalled picking the end-game safeword, could still see the slow shake of Yumi's head, could still feel the deep kiss that sealed their deal.

Yumi's soft hum of approval met Ikkaku's ears as strikes four and five fell across his back, still light, but the weight of the flogger on sore muscles shoved air from his lungs in a harsh rasp.

"Oooh, how I've missed that sound," Yumi murmured, and the simple phrase twisted things deep in Ikkaku's guts.

"Shut up," Ikkaku slurred, fingers digging into the bench when more blows fell to his thighs.

"Temper, temper," Yumichika said, but gently because he understood… everything. The insults and hatred never got the typical effects with Yumi. Ikkaku knew that, needed it, loved and marveled and bit his tongue on a whine.

"Watch me in the mirror."

The slash-smack of tails to his ass, and Ikkaku obeyed as he breathed harder through his mouth. Goddamned evil man… Now Ikkaku could see Yumi's arm move back to strike, could anticipate it coming, and had to fight not to flinch. A harder lick across both cheeks, and Ikkaku couldn't stop the quiet cry at the look on Yumi's face. He was hard, and Ikkaku saw flashes of sweet skin through the folds of the flowing robe, and God but Ikkaku wanted--

"Ah-fuck..." Ikkaku bellowed when weight and force collided with his shoulders: left, right, left, pause to breathe and Yumichika bent to kiss the base of Ikkaku's spine. "Bastard," Ikkaku hissed, but Yumi merely smiled at Ikkaku in the mirror before aiming a perfect blow to ass again. And this time the asshole didn't stop swinging: one, two, three, and Ikkaku cried out incoherently as his arms shook. "Goddammit," he muttered to himself, fighting.

"You spoil me," Yumichika said kindly, and then Ikkaku couldn't keep up with where what landed or how many times. His vision wavered, and he saw a double image of mirror and Yumi like a funhouse mirage of torment. He hated, he needed; he spat curses and his cock filled the cage and screeched fury that it couldn't escape. Ikkaku gnashed teeth, didn't even understand the words Yumi used but did catch the inherent love in them, and that was too fucking much because Yumichika never sounded like that and Ikkaku never liked it except in the confines of these four walls.

Swish-slap-slam and Ikkkau couldn't stand this, but somehow he did. Didn't want this but let it continue until finally his elbow gave, Yumi paused, and Ikkaku grunted, "Yellow" before falling to his forearms, head down, shivering and covered in sweat.

Light touches everywhere at once, and Ikkaku moaned for the way it felt and for the way Yumichika knew exactly what worked. "You never cease to amaze me," Yumichika whispered, and Ikkaku jerked his head away from the voice; tried to get away from how much it meant.

"No one could be so strong for me." Kisses to Ikkaku's cheek. "No one can do what you do with me." Gentle palms over shoulders, back, flank. "I need you." The fierce words snapped iron bars, and Ikkaku rolled down to his side. Yumichika wrapped around him: velvet skin, ardass robe, the smell of spring. Ikkaku kissed, bit, laved at mouth, neck, chest and Yumi's head went back in a groan. The world shrank to the muscles moving beneath Ikkaku's hands, to the give of supple flesh between his teeth, to the roll of Yumi's body.

"Bed," Yumichika commanded, and Ikkaku scrambled over the low footboard. He rose on his knees, twisted, grabbed Yumi, and threw the slender man to the mattress where fabric, limbs, and hair fanned. A growling curse escaped Ikkaku's throat, he caught a glimpse of hooded eyes and flushed cheeks, and he clenched rising hips before swallowing Yumi's cock down in one fast suck.

"Nnn-ah!" The sound was tainted with shock and outrage, and Ikkaku knew he didn't have much time. He slid up and down in a brutal bob that made Yumi's back arch, one knee falling wide while fingers clenched his shoulder. Ikkaku had mere seconds to savor triumph before Yumi shoved Ikkaku off with a kick. "No," he snarled and shifted to grapple lock with Ikkaku.

"Facedown, lover," Yumichika ordered, wrestling Ikkaku's half-hearted efforts and shoving Ikkaku toward the sheets.

Ikkaku had no idea if he was really angry, only frustrated, or just wanted to fight, but it didn't matter in the slightest because Yumi met and matched him, block for blow. They tumbled until Yumichika got the upper hand, knocking Ikkaku forward and scraping claws over reddened skin.

"Fuck you!" Ikkaku gasped with a low laugh that wheezed when Yumi landed on top of him to pin his wrists with a vice-like hold.

"Oooh, talk dirty to me, daddy," Yumi teased before biting Ikkaku's neck and making him writhe and forget to be pissed entirely. He cried out, Yumi's jaws closed tighter, and an iron-hard cock ground against Ikkaku's ass cheek.

"Yumi," Ikkaku rasped, struggling against the hold and relaxing when it didn't relent. He rolled against the slick comforter, cursed hot invective against the mattress when the movement provided absolutely no relief whatsoever, and whimpered when Yumi stilled: cock teasing, teeth relinquishing, and lips pressing feather kisses to Ikkaku's marred throat.

"You'll take ten," Yumichika gritted, letting go to reach under a pillow and withdraw lube and condom.

"I'll take twenty,” Ikkaku corrected, turning his head to watch Yumi cover himself with latex and slick.

Yumi snorted, wiped his slick hand on Ikkaku's ass before smacking it to draw a yelp from Ikkaku. "Then you'll beg for your dessert." Yumichika draped over Ikkaku's back, fingers gripping his wrist.

"I will nnngh--" Ikkaku clutched at the sheets when Yumi withdrew the plug without preamble. "You -- you…" Ikkaku stuttered and stopped to hold his breath when Yumi's cock caught against his ring and glided into him in an impossibly slow slide.

"Yes… all about me, isn't it, lover?" Yumi whispered as he stroked a short thrust and sank home, free hand encircling Ikkaku's wrist to hold them down. "Now count."

"Wah--One…" Ikkaku managed, brain frying and feeling like he was going to die before they got to three.

"Man up, 'kaku…" Yumichika said, and Ikkaku heard the challenge even though the words were soft. "Unless you want to give up, now…"

Ikkaku growled, clamping down on resolve and setting fire to his willpower.

"Good, then," Yumi said and shifted back to thrust slowly back inside.

"Two," Ikkaku coughed. "Three," he hissed, refusing to react. "Four," he gasped as Yumi set a god-awful slow pace that had Ikkaku seeing stars by six, moaning by nine, and crying out on ten. "Shit." Ikkaku jerked hard against Yumi's imprisoning hands and pistoning impalement that dragged against his prostate. He panted as Yumichika waited with a saint's poise, though his skin was slick and hot against Ikkaku's.

"More…" Ikkaku said, demand losing its edge as it came out as a high whine.

Yumi grunted, unimpressed, and stayed still.

Ikkaku fought, tried to push back and seek friction, and Yumichika withdrew on a sigh. Ikkaku started to give voice to what he thought of that, but a palm smacked his sore ass with a stunningly hard blow that was quickly followed by three more to alternating sides. Ikkaku didn't make a sound, but his freed hand fisted the blankets and his eyes felt damp beneath their squeezed shut lids.

"That's better," Yumi said, and Ikkaku didn't try to process, figure, understand, or comply. He only laid there, waiting and feeling like he might fly apart if Yumi didn't fuck him and might just die if Yumi actually did it.

Interminable seconds, and gradually Ikkaku's breathing slowed. Yumichika murmured unintelligible nonsense, and ran his fingers up and down Ikkaku's back. It wasn't enough -- could never be -- and Ikkaku squirmed until Yumichika reverently kissed each of Ikkaku's ass cheeks.

"Please more… God… I have to… need to… I want…" Ikkaku babbled.

"Dessert?" Yumi supplied, shifting to line up cockhead to greedy entrance again. He didn't push inside, and Ikkaku moved his arms to make them easier for Yumi to grab and brace against, loving the way the mattress gave beneath their combined weight.

"Yeah…" Ikkaku said.

"You can take ten."

It wasn't a question, but Ikkaku nodded anyway before tensioning taut as Yumi bent lower, spoke quietly as the head of his dick slipped back inside. "And then I'm going to fuck your mouth until I come."

Red haze blotted out all else. "Oooh… fucking… yeah, shit, Yumi, yeah…”

Yumichika's delicate laughter blew over Ikkaku's neck, and he slammed deep. "Count, lover."

"Nnnah -- one…" Ikkaku called, and he was pretty sure numbers mingled with the sounds of rage, need, heat, and bliss that spilled unwanted but unrestrained from his lungs as Yumichika nailed him with unforgiving force. Over and over until Ikkaku thought his dick would break the fucking cage, and when Yumi pulled out, Ikkaku sobbed a sound and didn't give a damn.

"On your back, 'kaku."

Ikkaku heard the words but it took ages for him to figure out what to do. Would have taken him an eternity if Yumi didn't help him roll, didn't kiss his parted lips, didn't set an uncovered cock to Ikkaku's mouth and push inside. Ikkaku's heels dug into the mattress, and he tried to reach and cling to Yumi, but he discovered his hands were now restrained by Yumichika's over his head. He groaned, felt wet tracks line the sides of his face, and his world filled with sucking, licking, and managing breath as Yumi's shaft dove and retreated in quick thrusts that left Ikkaku delightfully disoriented. He didn't care about a goddamned thing except how Yumichika tasted, how his lover groaned in pleasure, and when Ikkaku managed to open his eyes, he was treated to Yumi's lust-darkened hazy gaze.

"Fuck," Yumichika spat. "Oh, fuck--oh!" He hissed in a breath, his rhythm faltered, and Ikkaku's eyes rolled as Yumi came with a tiny, high, hitching moan. Ikkaku swallowed, sucking hard on the tip until Yumi cried out, another wave hitting him and another stream flowing down Ikkaku's throat. Groaning filled the air, and it wasn't until Yumichika released him that Ikkaku realized it was him making all the noise.

"So good," Yumi praised as he gathered Ikkaku to him. They entwined around each other, and Ikkaku didn't understand why he felt like he couldn't breathe until Yumi gently shushed him, kissed away tears. "You'll all I could ever want, Ikkaku…"

"Stop…" Ikkaku tried, but Yumichika ignored him, petting and cooing until Ikkaku gave in and went limp in Yumi's embrace, weeping like a goddamned little girl. That earned him chaste kisses, a stronger hug, a susurrated, "I love you," and Ikkaku shuddered in exhausted safety.


When Ikkaku opened his eyes, he was covered in a sheet and still in Yumi's arms. He smelled the medicinal scent of balm, lifted a shoulder experimentally and found it looser. The rest of his back was pleasantly numb, his cock was free and soft, and he kissed Yumichika's smooth chest next to his face when the other man stirred.

Cool fingertips touched Ikkaku's cheek, and Ikkaku looked up to meet concerned eyes set in a calm, angular face. "How do you feel?"

"Like a million bucks."

Yumichika smiled. "And here I was hoping for two million. C'est la vie…"

"Next time. Maybe." Ikkaku licked his lips. "How was the job?"

Yumi shrugged. "Dull."

"'bout time you're finally back."


Ikkaku canted eyes heavenward. "I'm starving."

"I thought you might be. Ordered in Chinese. Should be here soon." Yumichika cocked a brow. "Since someone forgot all the groceries on the counter in his haste to suck me off."

Ikkaku felt the manic grin split his face. "Brave talk coming from you this close to the end of the month."

Yumichika hummed, lazy and somehow also austere. "Oh, is it?"

"Yeah…" Ikkaku kissed Yumi, soft lips sliding in complete opposition to the harsh rasp in his tone. "You're so gonna pay when it's your turn." He rolled atop Yumichika, kissed the man's cheek.

"I look forward to it," Yumi said, lazy in his longing.

"You say that now."

Yumichika scoffed. "I don't plan on being the stubborn ass who thinks he can go for weeks on end."

"Going to give up that easy, huh?" Ikkaku murmured, nuzzling Yumi's neck.

"Mmm… naturally." Yumichika laughed when Ikkaku rubbed him with rough stubble and rolled his hips against Ikkaku's in rhythm. "Over, and over, and over, and--"

"Tease," Ikkaku complained, cursing inwardly as he shivered, cock filling.

"Stubborn idiot."

"You love it."

"So do you." Yumichika paused, coy and thoughtful. "Almost as much as you love me."

"Sure 'bout that, huh?"

Yumi's eyes danced. "Of course. I'm irresistible. And talented. Not to mention gorgeous, and--"

Ikkaku kissed his partner silent, smiling as he swallowed Yumichika's chuckle, and they waited on dinner to arrive before beginning the next phase of a never-ending game.


ANYONE SPOT THE CAMEO of the guy NOT in Naruto or Bleach fandoms? Hm? Anyone? *grins*

Kenpachi owns Victory Gym. Yumichika and Ikkaku work there as trainer's. Yachiru is Kenpatchi's niece and owns a cafe.

Much love & friendly games between lovers.
<3 Demented D
Tags: bleach, fanfiction, monoshizukanohi
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