Bleach Fic: Defiance
Title: Defiance
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Aizen/Hisagi
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,062
Warnings: Non-consensual sex.
Notes: Written for the Insane Journal site porn_battle, round seven. Prompt given was Bleach, Aizen/Shuuhei, defiance. A/U, a "what-if-Aizen-won" fic.
***
“You really should thank me for the gift, Hisagi,” Aizen muses thoughtfully as his right index finger unhurriedly trails over the slender metal reiatsu-controlling collar fastened to the other man’s throat before moving on to the smooth, vulnerable skin it lay against. “You were wearing a choker when I first met you at the Academy decades ago, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without one since. So you should love wearing mine.”
Aizen pauses, waiting for a response but not surprised when none is forthcoming: this shinigami is proving more difficult to break than his comrades, for the most part forgoing the usual outbursts of outraged fury favored by Aizen’s previous playthings.
Aizen appreciates the contrast in behavior; the typical cycle of anger/fear/bargaining/despair/submission still holds some charm, but starts to pale with each repetition. He never expected the immense satisfaction he takes in bending people to his will to lessen over the years.
Boredom is fatal to a God.
So even though Aizen fully anticipates Hisagi will submit - they all do, given enough time and attention - he does, in the meantime, appreciate and take pleasure in the unique nature of the young man’s character.
The color of Hisagi’s eyes - a dark grey that verges on black - is a close match to the steel band circling his neck. Those eyes appraise Aizen silently, searching for a weak point to exploit while trying not to reveal any of his own.
Eyes are not the only windows into a man’s soul.
Aizen’s other fingers join in his exploration of skin and steel. He enjoys the feel of the pulse racing madly beneath his fingertips, takes delight in increase of sharp, ragged breaths ghosting against his cheek, watches as dark hair dampens with sweat, smiles as pale skin slowly flushes and warms against his own.
“You haven’t questioned the lack of restraints,” Aizen says before kissing his way along Hisagi’s jaw line, then biting at the soft flesh of his left earlobe, “and you haven’t tried to attack me yet. Why is that?”
Hisagi’s voice is still poised as he answers, “Just because the restraints are not seen, that does not mean they do not exist. He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight.”
Aizen doesn’t even try to restrain his laughter. “No wonder Tousen wanted you for his division. Please tell me you don’t talk in proverbs all the time, Hisagi. That would become tiresome very quickly.”
“You insult my phrasing, but don’t deny the words are true,” is Hisagi’s immediate reply. “Such an obvious evasion is unbecoming from a man of your intellect.”
“I like the way you compliment and insult me in the same sentence, Shuuhei,” Aizen responds while moving one hand through Hisagi‘s hair. “I can call you Shuuhei, correct? I must insist on it. After all, we are on such… intimate terms now.”
Hisagi isn’t given the chance to affirm or deny the assertion, because Aizen’s body has moved to fully cover his own, the hand in his hair pulling his head back sharply, allowing better access for the lips pressed firmly against his own.
Aizen’s reiatsu, already formidable, grows even more overwhelming as his arousal increases, crashing over Hisagi relentlessly. He can’t not react to the stimulus: Hisagi gasps for air, thus allowing Aizen to plunge his tongue deeply into the other man’s mouth.
Aizen is in no hurry: he explores at leisure, sliding his tongue over palate and teeth, stroking lasciviously at the disobedient tongue that refuses to twine with his own. After a few minutes of this he pulls back slightly, teeth gently tugging at Hisagi’s lower lip just enough to further bruise that swollen flesh.
He then raises his head enough to fully look at Hisagi’s face. Aizen admires the flush that reddens Hisagi’s cheeks - more noticeable on the right side, where three scars run from above the eye to his jaw - before delicately tracing the numbers etched on the left side of his captive’s face with a finger.
Without prompting, Hisagi opens his eyes to stare at the man resting upon him. Aizen is sure that his plaything is frustrated by his imprisonment, offended by Aizen’s fondling and even revolted by his own, involuntary arousal in the process. But no such emotions can be read in the expression on his face or the composure of his gaze.
Aizen is not used to this type of defiance; it has a cool, astringent flavor and he finds it surprisingly delicious. Probably the closest comparison would be to Byakuya Kuchiki, the former Sixth Division captain. Destroying the spirit of that insufferably proud, respectable shinigami had been a most enjoyable pastime.
“You may use my given name,” Hisagi says, breaking the silence. “Does this mean I can address you as Sousuke?”
For the first time in recent memory Aizen finds himself speechless. Hisagi’s words - spoken as if granting a wish instead of complying with Aizen’s command - are both polite and audacious. Aizen is torn between amusement at the daring and exasperation with the insolence.
Aizen makes a mental note to have a discussion with Tousen later regarding his once-protégé before returning his attention to Hisagi.
“In the privacy of my chambers, certainly,” Aizen finally answers. “During your time here I suspect you will call me many things; my given name would be one of the more enjoyable options available.”
The hand that had been resting on Hisagi’s cheek moves down to his throat, sliding over the metal choker once again before seizing Hisagi’s neck in a crushing grip. Over the sounds of Hisagi’s startled wheezing for air, Aizen continues, “Do so anywhere else and the consequences will be unpleasant.”
Satisfied with the warning Aizen releases his hold, and moves on to the much more satisfying task of undressing his reluctant but unresisting companion as well as himself. By the time he finishes the task, Hisagi is breathing at only a slightly elevated rate and wears an expression of studied indifference on his face.
“You are an interesting young man,” Aizen murmurs as he unhurriedly explores Hisagi’s body, the kisses and touches intentionally pleasurable but never, ever kind. “an unexpected delight. It will be quite the challenge to tame you; I expect you to defy me every step of the way.”
***
Note: ‘He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight’ - Hisagi’s statement is a quote from Sun Tzu, The Art of War.
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Aizen/Hisagi
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,062
Warnings: Non-consensual sex.
Notes: Written for the Insane Journal site porn_battle, round seven. Prompt given was Bleach, Aizen/Shuuhei, defiance. A/U, a "what-if-Aizen-won" fic.
***
“You really should thank me for the gift, Hisagi,” Aizen muses thoughtfully as his right index finger unhurriedly trails over the slender metal reiatsu-controlling collar fastened to the other man’s throat before moving on to the smooth, vulnerable skin it lay against. “You were wearing a choker when I first met you at the Academy decades ago, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without one since. So you should love wearing mine.”
Aizen pauses, waiting for a response but not surprised when none is forthcoming: this shinigami is proving more difficult to break than his comrades, for the most part forgoing the usual outbursts of outraged fury favored by Aizen’s previous playthings.
Aizen appreciates the contrast in behavior; the typical cycle of anger/fear/bargaining/despair/submission still holds some charm, but starts to pale with each repetition. He never expected the immense satisfaction he takes in bending people to his will to lessen over the years.
Boredom is fatal to a God.
So even though Aizen fully anticipates Hisagi will submit - they all do, given enough time and attention - he does, in the meantime, appreciate and take pleasure in the unique nature of the young man’s character.
The color of Hisagi’s eyes - a dark grey that verges on black - is a close match to the steel band circling his neck. Those eyes appraise Aizen silently, searching for a weak point to exploit while trying not to reveal any of his own.
Eyes are not the only windows into a man’s soul.
Aizen’s other fingers join in his exploration of skin and steel. He enjoys the feel of the pulse racing madly beneath his fingertips, takes delight in increase of sharp, ragged breaths ghosting against his cheek, watches as dark hair dampens with sweat, smiles as pale skin slowly flushes and warms against his own.
“You haven’t questioned the lack of restraints,” Aizen says before kissing his way along Hisagi’s jaw line, then biting at the soft flesh of his left earlobe, “and you haven’t tried to attack me yet. Why is that?”
Hisagi’s voice is still poised as he answers, “Just because the restraints are not seen, that does not mean they do not exist. He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight.”
Aizen doesn’t even try to restrain his laughter. “No wonder Tousen wanted you for his division. Please tell me you don’t talk in proverbs all the time, Hisagi. That would become tiresome very quickly.”
“You insult my phrasing, but don’t deny the words are true,” is Hisagi’s immediate reply. “Such an obvious evasion is unbecoming from a man of your intellect.”
“I like the way you compliment and insult me in the same sentence, Shuuhei,” Aizen responds while moving one hand through Hisagi‘s hair. “I can call you Shuuhei, correct? I must insist on it. After all, we are on such… intimate terms now.”
Hisagi isn’t given the chance to affirm or deny the assertion, because Aizen’s body has moved to fully cover his own, the hand in his hair pulling his head back sharply, allowing better access for the lips pressed firmly against his own.
Aizen’s reiatsu, already formidable, grows even more overwhelming as his arousal increases, crashing over Hisagi relentlessly. He can’t not react to the stimulus: Hisagi gasps for air, thus allowing Aizen to plunge his tongue deeply into the other man’s mouth.
Aizen is in no hurry: he explores at leisure, sliding his tongue over palate and teeth, stroking lasciviously at the disobedient tongue that refuses to twine with his own. After a few minutes of this he pulls back slightly, teeth gently tugging at Hisagi’s lower lip just enough to further bruise that swollen flesh.
He then raises his head enough to fully look at Hisagi’s face. Aizen admires the flush that reddens Hisagi’s cheeks - more noticeable on the right side, where three scars run from above the eye to his jaw - before delicately tracing the numbers etched on the left side of his captive’s face with a finger.
Without prompting, Hisagi opens his eyes to stare at the man resting upon him. Aizen is sure that his plaything is frustrated by his imprisonment, offended by Aizen’s fondling and even revolted by his own, involuntary arousal in the process. But no such emotions can be read in the expression on his face or the composure of his gaze.
Aizen is not used to this type of defiance; it has a cool, astringent flavor and he finds it surprisingly delicious. Probably the closest comparison would be to Byakuya Kuchiki, the former Sixth Division captain. Destroying the spirit of that insufferably proud, respectable shinigami had been a most enjoyable pastime.
“You may use my given name,” Hisagi says, breaking the silence. “Does this mean I can address you as Sousuke?”
For the first time in recent memory Aizen finds himself speechless. Hisagi’s words - spoken as if granting a wish instead of complying with Aizen’s command - are both polite and audacious. Aizen is torn between amusement at the daring and exasperation with the insolence.
Aizen makes a mental note to have a discussion with Tousen later regarding his once-protégé before returning his attention to Hisagi.
“In the privacy of my chambers, certainly,” Aizen finally answers. “During your time here I suspect you will call me many things; my given name would be one of the more enjoyable options available.”
The hand that had been resting on Hisagi’s cheek moves down to his throat, sliding over the metal choker once again before seizing Hisagi’s neck in a crushing grip. Over the sounds of Hisagi’s startled wheezing for air, Aizen continues, “Do so anywhere else and the consequences will be unpleasant.”
Satisfied with the warning Aizen releases his hold, and moves on to the much more satisfying task of undressing his reluctant but unresisting companion as well as himself. By the time he finishes the task, Hisagi is breathing at only a slightly elevated rate and wears an expression of studied indifference on his face.
“You are an interesting young man,” Aizen murmurs as he unhurriedly explores Hisagi’s body, the kisses and touches intentionally pleasurable but never, ever kind. “an unexpected delight. It will be quite the challenge to tame you; I expect you to defy me every step of the way.”
***
Note: ‘He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight’ - Hisagi’s statement is a quote from Sun Tzu, The Art of War.