Test
Indulgence
by debbiechan
for Eny-chan
Infinite gratitude to my ideal beta reader and dear friend Nehalenia
Haschwalth/Uryuu. NC-17 or M. This vignette is so named because of Uryuu’s feelings towards Haschwalth the day of the important invasion of Soul Society and also because I’m writing it when I should be doing other tasks. Straight-up yaoi but if you know me, I don’t do pure PWP so…. yeah. Characterization nutrients included.
A/N: This ficlet is based on the series of pre-apocalypse pieces I wrote this summer including “Leichtigkeit des Seins” and “Neun Momente, Eine Nacht.” La Kalaka wanted Uryuu to return Jugram’s feelings, and while I’m afraid I couldn’t go that far, I could write something more consensual. I also wanted to fill in more about Kubo’s Shadow World with more of my Quincy head-canon. So indulgent of me. :3 ~deb, August 2013.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
“So where is the king?” Ishida asked. He was fingering through fold after fold of uniforms hung in the closet, all white, all fitted to his exact measurements.
“His Majesty left last night and will be gone all morning,” Haschwalth-san answered. “He does not require sleep.”
After one-thousand years of metaphorical slumber, one would imagine that the king would be restless. “Where did he go?”
“The library. All schmöker are committed to His Majesty’s memory, but he enjoys touching books that have been held by Quincy scholars over the many years.”
A breeze swept through Ishida’s thin nightshirt, making him shiver. Where it came from he had no idea, but there was always icy ventilation in his room. Why did his private bedroom seem colder than anywhere else in the palace? That could not have been intentional--surely the king was aware that Quincy blut did not compose the entirety of what flowed through Ishida Uryuu’s veins.
“There’s no need for you to decide,” said Haschwalth-san. “I’ve lain out clothes for you. You’ll be wearing garments like those for yesterday’s announcement of your succession.”
He really could’ve said this earlier. There were such specifics about Quincy uniforms for particular occasions. The full hooded cape for missions to the realm of the Living, the capes without hoods for audiences with His Majesty, and this--this too thin sleeveless thing that hung as insubstantially as a girl’s slip--was standard sleepwear? Someone had changed Ishida into it last night while he was unconscious.
“I also drew a bath for you,” that someone said.
Ishida gave Haschwalth-san a puzzled look. There were servants everywhere. There had been one positioned in the corridor outside the room since Ishida was first shown the room. Where was she?
“I let your diener go,” Haschwalth answered Ishida’s unspoken question. “After His Majesty left his sanctum, I took the liberty of returning you to your own room. Don’t look so horrified.”
“I’m not horri--”
“I used hirenkyaku so no one saw us. It occurred to me that you disliked being watched, so I carried you discreetly.
Did it not occur to him that Ishida disliked being carried around without his consent like a sleeping child back to his bedroom?
“I--thank you. I mean, you may go now.”
Haschwalth bowed deeply. Ishida was not at all accustomed to being royalty.
“One more thing, if I may,” said Haschwalth as he stepped towards the door. “His Majesty wants us in his alcove by a quarter to noon. The invasion of the Seireitei will start shortly thereafter.” Haschwalth carried his cape over his arm and patted it in an odd gesture, as if he were trying to reassure himself of something. “There is plenty time. Please make good use of your leisure.”
Then Haschwalth left.
Ishida had not been alone since arriving in the Shadow World. He had awoken this morning to find himself covered by a thin blue blanket in his own bed but with Haschwalth, wearing full uniform and a patient expression, standing over him. The previous night in the king’s sanctum--
Oh a bath. A bath would be good now since Ishida was now finally alone.
There was a sparse breakfast too. Haschwalth-san had set out a plate with a bread roll. It was black bread of a kind Ishida had never tasted before, but he ate it in a few bites, not bothering with the yellow cheese slice accompanying it. Ishida didn’t like cheese, especially the kind with holes. The realm of the Arrancar had ruined the concept of holes for him, especially in food.
The black bread was okay, a little sweet like sesame paste.
He drank down a glass full of something that tasted like milk with green tea. Whatever it was, he knew it would sustain him through the day’s battle.
In the bathroom, there was a sink as modern as anything on Earth, and a basket of toiletries. Ishida brushed his teeth, and as was the Japanese custom before taking a bath, cleaned his body thoroughly first with damp towels. There was no shower-head in the room, but the white circular bath-tub was huge. It stood on four short nubs for feet but could easily hold a dozen people. There was no attachment from the tub to any water source that Ishida could see. He wondered how it was filled and heated.
He stepped in, anticipating calm and respite in the steaming water, but a sense of pure horror settled over him as he sat down. There had been no time to reflect until now, so why had he looked forward to such a thing? There could be no tranquility for him, not with memories of last night.
And his body was hurting. Not much, but enough to set his teeth on edge as he grew accustomed to the hot water.
Moments earlier, when Ishida had cleaned himself with the bath towels and had found no trace of blood or semen, he realized Haschwalth must have cleaned him after last night’s ceremony; without messy evidence, it had been easy to act like maybe nothing disturbing had occurred at all, but now, hot water was stinging chafed skin. And the muscles of Ishida’s legs ached from the violence of the king’s reiatsu and Haschwalth’s body.
Ishida recalled Kurosaki once mentioning a healing spring in Urahara-san’s training facility and for a moment, hoped that this steaming bath-water might make abrasions disappear but no such luck. Ishida could see bruises on his upper thighs where the king had held him. Slowly, the water’s hotness began to numb the cuts deeper inside, but there was going to be no miraculous recovery from what happened last night.
“Is everything all right, Uryuu?”
Haschwalth was standing next to the tub. Ishida had not sensed him as he opened the door. His hirenkyaku--completely imperceptible!
There were perceptible waves in the bathwater from Ishida’s reaction. Ishida may not have visibly startled, but Haschwalth’s sudden appearance had shaken him so that even steam rising from the water was waving in a disturbed pattern.
“I thought we trained enough together,” Haschwalth said. “You still have not learned to relax.”
“Why are you back here?” Ishida had not addressed anyone in the Ice Palace angrily before, but Haschwalth was starting to get on his last nerve.
“It occurred to me that you may not want to be alone.”
“It occurred to you?” Ishida wasn’t sure if he was flushing from the hot bath, his anger, or from being naked in front of Haschwalth again. Being naked around the man seemed to happen a lot since Ishida had arrived at the Ice Palace, but that didn’t mean he was comfortable with that. He could feel an arousal stirring--a perfectly ordinary event, merely coincidental with the moment--and he lifted his knees before his chest to hide from Haschwalth’s view.
“His Majesty put you in my charge,” Haschwalth said in a voice that must have been deliberately measured and calm in order to contrast with Ishida panicky tone, “and I don’t believe he would want you out of my sight for long. If you’d like to be alone, though, I understand. People like you and the king--” The Stern Ritter lowered his eyes so that Ishida could see the pale yellow lashes. “You are solitary by nature but you also don’t readily admit when you desire the company of a friend.”
Ishida didn’t know what to say. He shifted a little, and one could hear the motion of a wave roll from one side of the tub the other.
Haschwalth lifted his eyes and looked at Ishida through the steam. Ishida could not meet his gaze directly. Friend? What does he mean by friend?
“I don’t think I’m like the king at all,” Ishida finally spoke. “His Majesty seems very … very detached from his followers.”
“It’s only because he cares for them,” Haschwalth said, and Ishida did not understand but neither did he care to press the subject.
Haschwalth didn’t seem to want to talk about the Quincy king either. “You seem agitated. I was under the impression that baths were a soothing occasion in your society.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not. Maybe the hot water is bothering you?”
“No--and that’s bad science. Hot water lowers a person’s blood pressure.”
“Blood pressure?”
“I have naturally low blood pressure,” Ishida had no idea why where he was going with this. He turned his face to one side and mumbled the following words. “Blood pressure--it’s a human thing. You don’t… well, I don’t know if you have blood the same way …..”
“Aren’t baths also a communal occasion where you’re from?” Haschwalth started to un-do his buttons. “They are here too. The tub you’re in was designed for company.”
It was at that moment that Ishida realized what he wanted. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted Haschwalth-san to be naked with him in the bath water.
Ishida had expected to be mentored upon his arrival in the Shadow World; he had always been an accomplished student and one used to conforming to strict discipline; his own high standards and the impossible ones of his father had prepared him for the brittle authority of the Stern Ritter. What Ishida hadn’t expected at all was the almost instantaneous familiarity with Jugram Haschwalth. Ishida had expected to be beaten and crushed into conformity by a Stern Ritter teacher, not to be taken, solicitously, under wing, told gossip about the king and … kissed with what Ishida suspected was something like affection.
Ishida stole a glance at Haschwalth undressing himself. The man was beautiful. Was this one of the reasons the king had chosen him to keep him close? He had obviously been the king’s consort for many years. Haschwalth’s yellow hair was immaculately well-kept and fell in shiny rivers past his waist. He took off his pants to reveal a full erection; what would happen between him and his once-pupil, now prince was inevitable. Of course, Ishida had the authority to refuse. As prince he had the authority to refuse now.
Haschwalth had kissed Ishida only once. Last night. It had been Ishida’s first and, so far, only kiss. The king had disapproved of it for some reason. Ishida had objected too--it was a surprise; it had seemed utterly wrong.
It had been different from all other trespasses against his body and mind here though. Not less brutal, but not meant to humiliate or control. There had been something about the way Haschwalth had kissed him that was meant to express … what? It could not be affection. This man who had served under the Quincy king for centuries could not possibly--
Haschwalth got into the tub right next to Ishida. The tub was huge--he could have sat across from him, but no, he had to sit right next to him. Ishida wondered if there was going to be any foreplay of conversation; he felt a little light-headed.
The steam over the surface of the water had not faded away; it was rising in new dense clouds now. The reiatsu from Haschwalth’s body was raising the water’s temperature?
“Do you want to talk about last night?” Haschwalth asked in that even tone of his.
Ishida stared straight ahead. “No, that’s not going to be necessary.” His own voice was deadly calm now too. “All I want is to not think.”
“I see. Thoughtful people like you--”
“Stop,” Ishida said. “You don’t have to talk either. We both know why you’re here.”
What happened next was Ishida’s second kiss.
Haschwalth right away straddled Ishida’s body, took his face in his hands and kissed him fully on the lips. The water slowed the motion or else it would’ve happened too quickly. The water muted the touch of skin, but it did not make that touch any less urging and passionate. The water was as transparent a barrier as Haschwalth had been last night between the king’s body and Ishida’s. A fat, hard erection pressed Ishida’s own. There was no weight, no heaviness in being covered by a man’s whole body, but the kiss itself was profound--
He was trying not to want me.
Ishida had not known how to respond to the presence of a tongue inside his mouth the first time, but this time he did not try to push it out. Neither did it seem disgusting. It moved as if talking, as if trying to ask a question over Ishida’s own tongue and teeth.
I don’t know. I don’t know.
Ishida realized that his hands were on Haschwalth’s upper arms. He had never touched him back before. In fact, for the past day and a half, during all these intimacies deemed Ishida’s initiation into the Quincy hierarchy, Ishida had made a willful display of accepting but not fully complying with sexual obligations.
Haschwalth must have only now noticed Ishida’s hands because he dropped his own hands to Ishida’s shoulders and began to squeeze them appreciatively; then he began to pet the length of Ishida’s arms--long, slow motions that started at the top of Ishida’s shoulders, swept into the water, rubbed at the crook of his elbows and came up again, wet palms against wet skin.
This isn’t about training or about taking the king’s power or … what is this?
It had always felt good. Ishida had rationalized the pleasure away like he had dismissed the fact that he had very little control over how his physical body was treated in the Quincy hierarchy. Constant subjugation and rape were facts of war-time; he had read about such things in history books. What was happening now, though … No, he wasn’t being coerced into this.
Haschwalth moved his mouth from Ishida’s and began to suck, rather forcefully, at a spot under Ishida’s ear. The gesture forced Ishida’s head to tilt back and both bodies to slide deeper into the water.
I need to stop thinking.
Haschwalth’s thumbs were over Ishida’s nipples, rubbing in circles.
I want this.
Every time Haschwalth had touched him before, Ishida had told himself that the Stern Ritter could kill him for disobeying, that his own body was a seventeen-year-old human’s and only responding naturally, that every act no matter how strange and humiliating was necessary because it brought Ishida closer to the king and to Ishida’s own abstract goals but--
Haschwalth’s head submerged under the water; he grabbed hold of Ishida by the hips and began to suck on his scrotum.
Thought was impossible now.
Haschwalth’s long blonde hair was floating like an expansive blanket on the surface of the water. Morning light from a high open window made the water and the yellow hair shine.
The feelings were unlike anything Ishida had ever experienced, even those of the night before. This was not like the violent pounding of the king’s reiatsu against his prostate; this was a luxurious, dizzying pleasure.
No pain, no thought, only the hum of pleasure.
Ishida had forgotten that Haschwalth needed to breathe when the man did, eventually, come up for air. After such a quiet lull, the noise of the water as Haschwalth rose from it startled Ishida.
Haschwalth’s face was unusually red, that amazingly long hair stuck to his face and chest, water dripping off his nose. He opened his mouth and didn’t speak; he only opened it to breathe, and he looked at Ishida with a perfectly transparent expression.
Those blue-green eyes said: I cherish you. I want you to feel good.
Ishida didn’t understand Haschwalth’s feelings, where they had come from or why they were being communicated so openly to him, but Ishida did not doubt that Haschwalth felt something tender towards him.
As if to confirm Ishida’s thoughts, Haschwalth leaned forward to kiss Ishida on the corner of the mouth and whispered “Angel.”
Steam obscured Haschwalth’s face as Ishida’s reiatsu surged out of embarrassment. When the cloud cleared, Ishida could see tiny pearls of water on Haschwalth’s eyebrows. Those brows were arched in a questioning look.
“Is something wrong?” Haschwalth’s voice was a whisper, although as far as Ishida could tell, there was no reason to whisper--it’s not like what they were doing would meet with any consequence from other Stern Ritter or the king. Or would it?
“Are you uncomfortable?” Haschwalth went on. Ishida shook his head slightly, but Haschwalth put his hand on Ishida’s forehead and ran that hand through hair that, while not wet, felt messy and full of steam. “It won’t hurt this time. I can promise you that.”
Another brush of Haschwalth’s hand through hair. The gesture would be condescending in another context. Right now it felt genuinely reassuring. Haschwalth was a strange man.
It was only when Haschwalth lifted himself higher out of the tub and reached for a small toiletries table that Ishida noticed a peculiar decanter. It was like the same clear blue one that had been by the king’s bedside. Haschwalth pulled the stopper out and dripped the golden oil on his palm.
The oil had not helped in lessening pain last night, but this was clearly an entirely different situation.
“What is that called?” Ishida could not help his curiosity.
“Hoheitlich schmiermittel.”
Was the way Haschwalth pronounced gutturals and dipthongs so different from the way others did? The man sounded as if he were tasting the peculiar words. Why was he licking his bottom lip even now? Ishida felt a rush from deep inside his belly, and he took in a breath and held it.
“This is not really an indulgence, Uryuu,” said Haschwalth. “There are probably better ways to spend this morning, but you need to relax.”
Haschwalth kissed his forehead. His oiled palm went underwater and gold beads rose to the water’s surface, spreading in shiny concentric circles.
“You need to understand,” Haschwalth went on, “that even when things seem very serious, your mind and body are capable of an amazing lightness.”
Ishida had already learned that lightness--in his other intimate encounters with Haschwalth, during last night’s strange succession ceremony with the king, in this morning’s dazed aftermath when waking up in his own bed. No, Ishida had always known how to stay very calm and very still, so learning the Quincy ways of composure and serenity had not been hard lessons. He had always known that he was a true Quincy and the fact that he was capable of unknown and unexploited powers had come as no real shock. But whatever was happening now--
“No,” Ishida said softly. “This … is an indulgence. I don’t need to be any more relaxed. If I--” Haschwalth’s mouth was sucking on Ishida’s earlobe, and his hand was swabbing his scrotum at the same time, coming closer to places that still hurt a little. “If I needed to relax, I could very well just go to sleep for an hour.”
“True,” Haschwalth whispered against Ishida’s neck.
“This is an indulgence,” Ishida said, and Haschwalth’s fingers penetrated him.
Haschwalth was right--Ishida had expected a jolt of pain but there was none. His hands, which he now noticed had been lying as limp fists on Haschwalth’s shoulders, opened and closed as Haschwalth’s fingers moved inside him. There was that one sweet spot--
“Ah!” It was just a little exclamation, but he hadn’t been able to help himself.
Haschwalth responded by kissing him, breathing more quickly and in syncopation with strokes against that sweet spot. Ishida didn’t want to make noises, but this was all so new and astonishing in spite of his having read about and thought about such things--
Ishida made hiccup-like sounds into Haschwalth’s mouth as fingers stroked so very near what could hurt but didn’t hurt. When Haschwalth’s other hand squeezed one upper thigh and then slid upwards, kneading the buttock, Ishida felt himself slide awkwardly in the tub and attempted to re-position himself. He grabbed the tub’s side with one hand and tried to grab Haschwalth’s shoulder with the other--
This time there was a small noise from Haschwalth because Ishida had grabbed a lock of hair instead. Haschwalth shifted purpose; he quit his ministrations underwater and pulled Ishida closer to him with both arms. At the same time, one of Haschwalth’s knees pushed Ishida’s thighs open, and then in one unhesitating motion, Haschwalth entered him completely.
“Mmmmmmmmmm.” Ishida threw his head back. So good and so warm. This fullness was so different from last night’s feeling.
“Don’t move,” whispered Haschwalth, and so Ishida didn’t.
They stayed like that, not moving, floating a bit in the bathwater, steam clouding the entire room, for who knows how long. Haschwalth arms were wrapped around Ishida, and Ishida’s arms swayed loosely underwater.
It was not relaxing; it was like standing on the edge of a high cliff and waiting to be pushed off.
When movement started, it was not like last night’s insistent pounding. Being in water may have had something to do with the gliding sensation, but Haschwalth’s hips were doing the pushing, not the king’s violent reiatsu. Last night Haschwalth had been as much an instrument of His Majesty’s body as Ishida had been.
So, this is my second time having sex, Ishida thought, and he realized how adolescent his commemoration of the moment was. Nothing could have really prepared him for either time. All he knew now was that the experience did and did not change him. Essentially, he was the same. But sitting here, thighs spread far apart and his knees jutting out of the oily water, he knew he was more corruptible than he ever imagined.
I want this. I want this.
The motion intensified and caused a little splashing. Ishida was finding it hard to not slide under-water, so he held onto Haschwalth again, only for balance, and Haschwalth responded by kissing him soundly. It was as if that tongue in his mouth gagged his thoughts because the moments stopped being marked by Ishida’s random observations and memories; he felt swollen with pleasure, drunk with pleasure, unable to do anything but moan into Haschwalth’s mouth and although he wanted to stop doing that, he couldn’t stop. He wanted to answer the motion of Haschwald’s hips with his own hips but momentum was already against him--all he could do was arch his back and go mmmmmmmm, hmmm, mmmmm.
Haschwalth kissed his throat.
Ishida came, surprising himself that he had even lasted this long, and he came hard, his lower abdomen spasming and his crotch thrusting forward so that Haschwalth fell out of him.
He heard his own low moan--although it sounded like he was in pain, it was deep pleasure. He heard Haschwalth sigh with a heavy exhalation, and felt Haschwalth’s arms tremble, and at that moment--
I’m falling.
Ishida managed to gasp one huge intake of air before his head slid under the water because Haschwalth lost hold of him. Ishida looked up and there was white semen along with golden oil pooled on the water’s surface. He closed his eyes and felt completely submerged in gratification.
I wanted this.
He could die here. It would be all right. There would be no more thoughts or plans; there would be no more struggling to keep worrisome memories at bay. This was an end like the beginning, a luxurious liquid warmth holding him and a drowsy sense of self ….
Strong arms pulled him out of the water.
“Uryuu!” Haschwalth was looking at him with such a strange look.
Ishida took a deep breath, then another--he felt himself panting because he could not speak yet. He was still in the throes of having come so hard.
“Are you all right?” Haschwalth looked concerned. Had he thought that Ishida was--?
Ishida coughed once and blinked twice. He brushed a heavy lock of wet hair away from one eye.
“Uryuu? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
It occurred to Ishida that he could not remember the last time anyone had looked at him that way--with such concern for his safety. He liked having someone look at him that way.
Haschwalth leaned forward and kissed his forehead. That too, at this moment, Ishida didn’t mind. He imagined that he would remember the kiss differently and mind much later, but for now, he didn’t mind at all.
Das Ende
“schmöker” --tomes
“hoheitlich schmiermittel”--royal lubricant … haha, yes, I couldn’t help myself.
Written while listening to David Bowie’s performance of “Ashes to Ashes,” BBC 2000: http://youtu.be/lNqo0kIR-TU “My mama said to get things done, you better not mess with Major Tom.”
crossposted from http://debbiechan.dreamwidth.org/ to users.livejournal.com/_debbiechan_/ You may comment at DW using OpenID. There are
: comments there.
by debbiechan
for Eny-chan
Infinite gratitude to my ideal beta reader and dear friend Nehalenia
Haschwalth/Uryuu. NC-17 or M. This vignette is so named because of Uryuu’s feelings towards Haschwalth the day of the important invasion of Soul Society and also because I’m writing it when I should be doing other tasks. Straight-up yaoi but if you know me, I don’t do pure PWP so…. yeah. Characterization nutrients included.
A/N: This ficlet is based on the series of pre-apocalypse pieces I wrote this summer including “Leichtigkeit des Seins” and “Neun Momente, Eine Nacht.” La Kalaka wanted Uryuu to return Jugram’s feelings, and while I’m afraid I couldn’t go that far, I could write something more consensual. I also wanted to fill in more about Kubo’s Shadow World with more of my Quincy head-canon. So indulgent of me. :3 ~deb, August 2013.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
“So where is the king?” Ishida asked. He was fingering through fold after fold of uniforms hung in the closet, all white, all fitted to his exact measurements.
“His Majesty left last night and will be gone all morning,” Haschwalth-san answered. “He does not require sleep.”
After one-thousand years of metaphorical slumber, one would imagine that the king would be restless. “Where did he go?”
“The library. All schmöker are committed to His Majesty’s memory, but he enjoys touching books that have been held by Quincy scholars over the many years.”
A breeze swept through Ishida’s thin nightshirt, making him shiver. Where it came from he had no idea, but there was always icy ventilation in his room. Why did his private bedroom seem colder than anywhere else in the palace? That could not have been intentional--surely the king was aware that Quincy blut did not compose the entirety of what flowed through Ishida Uryuu’s veins.
“There’s no need for you to decide,” said Haschwalth-san. “I’ve lain out clothes for you. You’ll be wearing garments like those for yesterday’s announcement of your succession.”
He really could’ve said this earlier. There were such specifics about Quincy uniforms for particular occasions. The full hooded cape for missions to the realm of the Living, the capes without hoods for audiences with His Majesty, and this--this too thin sleeveless thing that hung as insubstantially as a girl’s slip--was standard sleepwear? Someone had changed Ishida into it last night while he was unconscious.
“I also drew a bath for you,” that someone said.
Ishida gave Haschwalth-san a puzzled look. There were servants everywhere. There had been one positioned in the corridor outside the room since Ishida was first shown the room. Where was she?
“I let your diener go,” Haschwalth answered Ishida’s unspoken question. “After His Majesty left his sanctum, I took the liberty of returning you to your own room. Don’t look so horrified.”
“I’m not horri--”
“I used hirenkyaku so no one saw us. It occurred to me that you disliked being watched, so I carried you discreetly.
Did it not occur to him that Ishida disliked being carried around without his consent like a sleeping child back to his bedroom?
“I--thank you. I mean, you may go now.”
Haschwalth bowed deeply. Ishida was not at all accustomed to being royalty.
“One more thing, if I may,” said Haschwalth as he stepped towards the door. “His Majesty wants us in his alcove by a quarter to noon. The invasion of the Seireitei will start shortly thereafter.” Haschwalth carried his cape over his arm and patted it in an odd gesture, as if he were trying to reassure himself of something. “There is plenty time. Please make good use of your leisure.”
Then Haschwalth left.
Ishida had not been alone since arriving in the Shadow World. He had awoken this morning to find himself covered by a thin blue blanket in his own bed but with Haschwalth, wearing full uniform and a patient expression, standing over him. The previous night in the king’s sanctum--
Oh a bath. A bath would be good now since Ishida was now finally alone.
There was a sparse breakfast too. Haschwalth-san had set out a plate with a bread roll. It was black bread of a kind Ishida had never tasted before, but he ate it in a few bites, not bothering with the yellow cheese slice accompanying it. Ishida didn’t like cheese, especially the kind with holes. The realm of the Arrancar had ruined the concept of holes for him, especially in food.
The black bread was okay, a little sweet like sesame paste.
He drank down a glass full of something that tasted like milk with green tea. Whatever it was, he knew it would sustain him through the day’s battle.
In the bathroom, there was a sink as modern as anything on Earth, and a basket of toiletries. Ishida brushed his teeth, and as was the Japanese custom before taking a bath, cleaned his body thoroughly first with damp towels. There was no shower-head in the room, but the white circular bath-tub was huge. It stood on four short nubs for feet but could easily hold a dozen people. There was no attachment from the tub to any water source that Ishida could see. He wondered how it was filled and heated.
He stepped in, anticipating calm and respite in the steaming water, but a sense of pure horror settled over him as he sat down. There had been no time to reflect until now, so why had he looked forward to such a thing? There could be no tranquility for him, not with memories of last night.
And his body was hurting. Not much, but enough to set his teeth on edge as he grew accustomed to the hot water.
Moments earlier, when Ishida had cleaned himself with the bath towels and had found no trace of blood or semen, he realized Haschwalth must have cleaned him after last night’s ceremony; without messy evidence, it had been easy to act like maybe nothing disturbing had occurred at all, but now, hot water was stinging chafed skin. And the muscles of Ishida’s legs ached from the violence of the king’s reiatsu and Haschwalth’s body.
Ishida recalled Kurosaki once mentioning a healing spring in Urahara-san’s training facility and for a moment, hoped that this steaming bath-water might make abrasions disappear but no such luck. Ishida could see bruises on his upper thighs where the king had held him. Slowly, the water’s hotness began to numb the cuts deeper inside, but there was going to be no miraculous recovery from what happened last night.
“Is everything all right, Uryuu?”
Haschwalth was standing next to the tub. Ishida had not sensed him as he opened the door. His hirenkyaku--completely imperceptible!
There were perceptible waves in the bathwater from Ishida’s reaction. Ishida may not have visibly startled, but Haschwalth’s sudden appearance had shaken him so that even steam rising from the water was waving in a disturbed pattern.
“I thought we trained enough together,” Haschwalth said. “You still have not learned to relax.”
“Why are you back here?” Ishida had not addressed anyone in the Ice Palace angrily before, but Haschwalth was starting to get on his last nerve.
“It occurred to me that you may not want to be alone.”
“It occurred to you?” Ishida wasn’t sure if he was flushing from the hot bath, his anger, or from being naked in front of Haschwalth again. Being naked around the man seemed to happen a lot since Ishida had arrived at the Ice Palace, but that didn’t mean he was comfortable with that. He could feel an arousal stirring--a perfectly ordinary event, merely coincidental with the moment--and he lifted his knees before his chest to hide from Haschwalth’s view.
“His Majesty put you in my charge,” Haschwalth said in a voice that must have been deliberately measured and calm in order to contrast with Ishida panicky tone, “and I don’t believe he would want you out of my sight for long. If you’d like to be alone, though, I understand. People like you and the king--” The Stern Ritter lowered his eyes so that Ishida could see the pale yellow lashes. “You are solitary by nature but you also don’t readily admit when you desire the company of a friend.”
Ishida didn’t know what to say. He shifted a little, and one could hear the motion of a wave roll from one side of the tub the other.
Haschwalth lifted his eyes and looked at Ishida through the steam. Ishida could not meet his gaze directly. Friend? What does he mean by friend?
“I don’t think I’m like the king at all,” Ishida finally spoke. “His Majesty seems very … very detached from his followers.”
“It’s only because he cares for them,” Haschwalth said, and Ishida did not understand but neither did he care to press the subject.
Haschwalth didn’t seem to want to talk about the Quincy king either. “You seem agitated. I was under the impression that baths were a soothing occasion in your society.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not. Maybe the hot water is bothering you?”
“No--and that’s bad science. Hot water lowers a person’s blood pressure.”
“Blood pressure?”
“I have naturally low blood pressure,” Ishida had no idea why where he was going with this. He turned his face to one side and mumbled the following words. “Blood pressure--it’s a human thing. You don’t… well, I don’t know if you have blood the same way …..”
“Aren’t baths also a communal occasion where you’re from?” Haschwalth started to un-do his buttons. “They are here too. The tub you’re in was designed for company.”
It was at that moment that Ishida realized what he wanted. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted Haschwalth-san to be naked with him in the bath water.
Ishida had expected to be mentored upon his arrival in the Shadow World; he had always been an accomplished student and one used to conforming to strict discipline; his own high standards and the impossible ones of his father had prepared him for the brittle authority of the Stern Ritter. What Ishida hadn’t expected at all was the almost instantaneous familiarity with Jugram Haschwalth. Ishida had expected to be beaten and crushed into conformity by a Stern Ritter teacher, not to be taken, solicitously, under wing, told gossip about the king and … kissed with what Ishida suspected was something like affection.
Ishida stole a glance at Haschwalth undressing himself. The man was beautiful. Was this one of the reasons the king had chosen him to keep him close? He had obviously been the king’s consort for many years. Haschwalth’s yellow hair was immaculately well-kept and fell in shiny rivers past his waist. He took off his pants to reveal a full erection; what would happen between him and his once-pupil, now prince was inevitable. Of course, Ishida had the authority to refuse. As prince he had the authority to refuse now.
Haschwalth had kissed Ishida only once. Last night. It had been Ishida’s first and, so far, only kiss. The king had disapproved of it for some reason. Ishida had objected too--it was a surprise; it had seemed utterly wrong.
It had been different from all other trespasses against his body and mind here though. Not less brutal, but not meant to humiliate or control. There had been something about the way Haschwalth had kissed him that was meant to express … what? It could not be affection. This man who had served under the Quincy king for centuries could not possibly--
Haschwalth got into the tub right next to Ishida. The tub was huge--he could have sat across from him, but no, he had to sit right next to him. Ishida wondered if there was going to be any foreplay of conversation; he felt a little light-headed.
The steam over the surface of the water had not faded away; it was rising in new dense clouds now. The reiatsu from Haschwalth’s body was raising the water’s temperature?
“Do you want to talk about last night?” Haschwalth asked in that even tone of his.
Ishida stared straight ahead. “No, that’s not going to be necessary.” His own voice was deadly calm now too. “All I want is to not think.”
“I see. Thoughtful people like you--”
“Stop,” Ishida said. “You don’t have to talk either. We both know why you’re here.”
What happened next was Ishida’s second kiss.
Haschwalth right away straddled Ishida’s body, took his face in his hands and kissed him fully on the lips. The water slowed the motion or else it would’ve happened too quickly. The water muted the touch of skin, but it did not make that touch any less urging and passionate. The water was as transparent a barrier as Haschwalth had been last night between the king’s body and Ishida’s. A fat, hard erection pressed Ishida’s own. There was no weight, no heaviness in being covered by a man’s whole body, but the kiss itself was profound--
He was trying not to want me.
Ishida had not known how to respond to the presence of a tongue inside his mouth the first time, but this time he did not try to push it out. Neither did it seem disgusting. It moved as if talking, as if trying to ask a question over Ishida’s own tongue and teeth.
I don’t know. I don’t know.
Ishida realized that his hands were on Haschwalth’s upper arms. He had never touched him back before. In fact, for the past day and a half, during all these intimacies deemed Ishida’s initiation into the Quincy hierarchy, Ishida had made a willful display of accepting but not fully complying with sexual obligations.
Haschwalth must have only now noticed Ishida’s hands because he dropped his own hands to Ishida’s shoulders and began to squeeze them appreciatively; then he began to pet the length of Ishida’s arms--long, slow motions that started at the top of Ishida’s shoulders, swept into the water, rubbed at the crook of his elbows and came up again, wet palms against wet skin.
This isn’t about training or about taking the king’s power or … what is this?
It had always felt good. Ishida had rationalized the pleasure away like he had dismissed the fact that he had very little control over how his physical body was treated in the Quincy hierarchy. Constant subjugation and rape were facts of war-time; he had read about such things in history books. What was happening now, though … No, he wasn’t being coerced into this.
Haschwalth moved his mouth from Ishida’s and began to suck, rather forcefully, at a spot under Ishida’s ear. The gesture forced Ishida’s head to tilt back and both bodies to slide deeper into the water.
I need to stop thinking.
Haschwalth’s thumbs were over Ishida’s nipples, rubbing in circles.
I want this.
Every time Haschwalth had touched him before, Ishida had told himself that the Stern Ritter could kill him for disobeying, that his own body was a seventeen-year-old human’s and only responding naturally, that every act no matter how strange and humiliating was necessary because it brought Ishida closer to the king and to Ishida’s own abstract goals but--
Haschwalth’s head submerged under the water; he grabbed hold of Ishida by the hips and began to suck on his scrotum.
Thought was impossible now.
Haschwalth’s long blonde hair was floating like an expansive blanket on the surface of the water. Morning light from a high open window made the water and the yellow hair shine.
The feelings were unlike anything Ishida had ever experienced, even those of the night before. This was not like the violent pounding of the king’s reiatsu against his prostate; this was a luxurious, dizzying pleasure.
No pain, no thought, only the hum of pleasure.
Ishida had forgotten that Haschwalth needed to breathe when the man did, eventually, come up for air. After such a quiet lull, the noise of the water as Haschwalth rose from it startled Ishida.
Haschwalth’s face was unusually red, that amazingly long hair stuck to his face and chest, water dripping off his nose. He opened his mouth and didn’t speak; he only opened it to breathe, and he looked at Ishida with a perfectly transparent expression.
Those blue-green eyes said: I cherish you. I want you to feel good.
Ishida didn’t understand Haschwalth’s feelings, where they had come from or why they were being communicated so openly to him, but Ishida did not doubt that Haschwalth felt something tender towards him.
As if to confirm Ishida’s thoughts, Haschwalth leaned forward to kiss Ishida on the corner of the mouth and whispered “Angel.”
Steam obscured Haschwalth’s face as Ishida’s reiatsu surged out of embarrassment. When the cloud cleared, Ishida could see tiny pearls of water on Haschwalth’s eyebrows. Those brows were arched in a questioning look.
“Is something wrong?” Haschwalth’s voice was a whisper, although as far as Ishida could tell, there was no reason to whisper--it’s not like what they were doing would meet with any consequence from other Stern Ritter or the king. Or would it?
“Are you uncomfortable?” Haschwalth went on. Ishida shook his head slightly, but Haschwalth put his hand on Ishida’s forehead and ran that hand through hair that, while not wet, felt messy and full of steam. “It won’t hurt this time. I can promise you that.”
Another brush of Haschwalth’s hand through hair. The gesture would be condescending in another context. Right now it felt genuinely reassuring. Haschwalth was a strange man.
It was only when Haschwalth lifted himself higher out of the tub and reached for a small toiletries table that Ishida noticed a peculiar decanter. It was like the same clear blue one that had been by the king’s bedside. Haschwalth pulled the stopper out and dripped the golden oil on his palm.
The oil had not helped in lessening pain last night, but this was clearly an entirely different situation.
“What is that called?” Ishida could not help his curiosity.
“Hoheitlich schmiermittel.”
Was the way Haschwalth pronounced gutturals and dipthongs so different from the way others did? The man sounded as if he were tasting the peculiar words. Why was he licking his bottom lip even now? Ishida felt a rush from deep inside his belly, and he took in a breath and held it.
“This is not really an indulgence, Uryuu,” said Haschwalth. “There are probably better ways to spend this morning, but you need to relax.”
Haschwalth kissed his forehead. His oiled palm went underwater and gold beads rose to the water’s surface, spreading in shiny concentric circles.
“You need to understand,” Haschwalth went on, “that even when things seem very serious, your mind and body are capable of an amazing lightness.”
Ishida had already learned that lightness--in his other intimate encounters with Haschwalth, during last night’s strange succession ceremony with the king, in this morning’s dazed aftermath when waking up in his own bed. No, Ishida had always known how to stay very calm and very still, so learning the Quincy ways of composure and serenity had not been hard lessons. He had always known that he was a true Quincy and the fact that he was capable of unknown and unexploited powers had come as no real shock. But whatever was happening now--
“No,” Ishida said softly. “This … is an indulgence. I don’t need to be any more relaxed. If I--” Haschwalth’s mouth was sucking on Ishida’s earlobe, and his hand was swabbing his scrotum at the same time, coming closer to places that still hurt a little. “If I needed to relax, I could very well just go to sleep for an hour.”
“True,” Haschwalth whispered against Ishida’s neck.
“This is an indulgence,” Ishida said, and Haschwalth’s fingers penetrated him.
Haschwalth was right--Ishida had expected a jolt of pain but there was none. His hands, which he now noticed had been lying as limp fists on Haschwalth’s shoulders, opened and closed as Haschwalth’s fingers moved inside him. There was that one sweet spot--
“Ah!” It was just a little exclamation, but he hadn’t been able to help himself.
Haschwalth responded by kissing him, breathing more quickly and in syncopation with strokes against that sweet spot. Ishida didn’t want to make noises, but this was all so new and astonishing in spite of his having read about and thought about such things--
Ishida made hiccup-like sounds into Haschwalth’s mouth as fingers stroked so very near what could hurt but didn’t hurt. When Haschwalth’s other hand squeezed one upper thigh and then slid upwards, kneading the buttock, Ishida felt himself slide awkwardly in the tub and attempted to re-position himself. He grabbed the tub’s side with one hand and tried to grab Haschwalth’s shoulder with the other--
This time there was a small noise from Haschwalth because Ishida had grabbed a lock of hair instead. Haschwalth shifted purpose; he quit his ministrations underwater and pulled Ishida closer to him with both arms. At the same time, one of Haschwalth’s knees pushed Ishida’s thighs open, and then in one unhesitating motion, Haschwalth entered him completely.
“Mmmmmmmmmm.” Ishida threw his head back. So good and so warm. This fullness was so different from last night’s feeling.
“Don’t move,” whispered Haschwalth, and so Ishida didn’t.
They stayed like that, not moving, floating a bit in the bathwater, steam clouding the entire room, for who knows how long. Haschwalth arms were wrapped around Ishida, and Ishida’s arms swayed loosely underwater.
It was not relaxing; it was like standing on the edge of a high cliff and waiting to be pushed off.
When movement started, it was not like last night’s insistent pounding. Being in water may have had something to do with the gliding sensation, but Haschwalth’s hips were doing the pushing, not the king’s violent reiatsu. Last night Haschwalth had been as much an instrument of His Majesty’s body as Ishida had been.
So, this is my second time having sex, Ishida thought, and he realized how adolescent his commemoration of the moment was. Nothing could have really prepared him for either time. All he knew now was that the experience did and did not change him. Essentially, he was the same. But sitting here, thighs spread far apart and his knees jutting out of the oily water, he knew he was more corruptible than he ever imagined.
I want this. I want this.
The motion intensified and caused a little splashing. Ishida was finding it hard to not slide under-water, so he held onto Haschwalth again, only for balance, and Haschwalth responded by kissing him soundly. It was as if that tongue in his mouth gagged his thoughts because the moments stopped being marked by Ishida’s random observations and memories; he felt swollen with pleasure, drunk with pleasure, unable to do anything but moan into Haschwalth’s mouth and although he wanted to stop doing that, he couldn’t stop. He wanted to answer the motion of Haschwald’s hips with his own hips but momentum was already against him--all he could do was arch his back and go mmmmmmmm, hmmm, mmmmm.
Haschwalth kissed his throat.
Ishida came, surprising himself that he had even lasted this long, and he came hard, his lower abdomen spasming and his crotch thrusting forward so that Haschwalth fell out of him.
He heard his own low moan--although it sounded like he was in pain, it was deep pleasure. He heard Haschwalth sigh with a heavy exhalation, and felt Haschwalth’s arms tremble, and at that moment--
I’m falling.
Ishida managed to gasp one huge intake of air before his head slid under the water because Haschwalth lost hold of him. Ishida looked up and there was white semen along with golden oil pooled on the water’s surface. He closed his eyes and felt completely submerged in gratification.
I wanted this.
He could die here. It would be all right. There would be no more thoughts or plans; there would be no more struggling to keep worrisome memories at bay. This was an end like the beginning, a luxurious liquid warmth holding him and a drowsy sense of self ….
Strong arms pulled him out of the water.
“Uryuu!” Haschwalth was looking at him with such a strange look.
Ishida took a deep breath, then another--he felt himself panting because he could not speak yet. He was still in the throes of having come so hard.
“Are you all right?” Haschwalth looked concerned. Had he thought that Ishida was--?
Ishida coughed once and blinked twice. He brushed a heavy lock of wet hair away from one eye.
“Uryuu? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
It occurred to Ishida that he could not remember the last time anyone had looked at him that way--with such concern for his safety. He liked having someone look at him that way.
Haschwalth leaned forward and kissed his forehead. That too, at this moment, Ishida didn’t mind. He imagined that he would remember the kiss differently and mind much later, but for now, he didn’t mind at all.
Das Ende
“schmöker” --tomes
“hoheitlich schmiermittel”--royal lubricant … haha, yes, I couldn’t help myself.
Written while listening to David Bowie’s performance of “Ashes to Ashes,” BBC 2000: http://youtu.be/lNqo0kIR-TU “My mama said to get things done, you better not mess with Major Tom.”
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