Insomnia (chapter 11, pt.1)
DISCLAIMER: All characters depicted in sexual situations are fictional and are intended to be and considered to be by the author of said material of the legal age of consent in the United States state of California, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from.
Author: SilverKytten
Title: Insomnia (chapter 11, pt. 1)
Rating: R (overall NC-17)
Pairing: IchigoxRenji
Warnings: Yaoi, language, angst, spoilers
Summary: When you carry world on your shoulders, who’s left to catch you when you fall? (previous chapters)
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo, I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.
Notes: This chapter was too long to post to LJ in one piece. I'm posting the first part now and I should hopefully have the second part up later this afternoon.
Tempest (pt. 1)
The corners of Ichigo’s lips lifted slightly as a pleasant tingle skated across his remnant dreams, dragging him slowly towards the waking world. He rolled his head gently against the pillow, protesting the loss of the already forgotten memories while shifting deeper into the warmth at his back. The tickle on his skin paused for a moment, a contemplative silence, and then continued.
It took him only a few seconds to realize that Renji was petting him again, tracing the lines of his stomach and ribs, but he wasn’t awake enough yet to complain. He didn’t mind, not really. It was just a strange sort of tickle; one that made him want to squirm in ways that had been a bit unnerving while he was still trying to deny certain attractions. Honestly, it still made him nervous most of the time but currently, still drowsy and warm, he just couldn’t bring himself to care.
The fingers slipped lower, dipping into his navel, and he finally gave into the building shiver, a sigh spilling from his lips. The body behind him shifted, drawing closer, warm breath stirring the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. He tipped his head forward, exposing more of his flesh as the fingers painted lazy patterns back up his stomach.
“You awake?” Renji’s lips moved against his shoulder, his voice barely more than a whisper in the stillness of the room.
“Sorta,” Ichigo mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.
Renji made a sound that might have been a chuckle, but it was too soft to distinguish. He continued his slow exploration, following the contours of ribs beneath flesh, scraping his nails over the skin. Ichigo shivered again, his hand twitching against the blanket as a different kind of warmth spread through him.
“You’re petting me again,” he muttered without any real heat.
“Yeah,” Renji agreed, smirking against his skin. “And I think ya like it.”
Ichigo opened his mouth to deny it, but all that came out was a startled little gasp as a thumb flicked over his nipple. He finally opened his eyes, staring down at the darker hand as Renji rolled the hardening bud between his thumb and finger. He bit his lip as his body twitched in response.
“Ya like that?” Renji’s voice was deeper than Ichigo remembered.
“I-I don’t know,” he stuttered as the fingers squeezed a little harder.
“You fuckin’ lie a lot,” Renji pointed out, leaning forward to catch an earlobe between his teeth, tugging it gently.
Ichigo’s breath hitched as his senses swam under the foreign assault. Strangely, his body knew how to react even if his mind didn’t, leaning into the touch, pressing into the heat against his back. Renji’s fingers were moving again, following a meaningless path to the other nipple, stroking it gently. He released his hold on the earlobe, tongue flickering out as he tasted the skin behind it. Ichigo’s head fell back, red hair drifting over his cheek as Renji continued down his neck.
“Renji...I...” He didn’t know what to say, but he felt compelled to say something, anything.
“What is it?” Renji murmured, lips trailing over the curve of his shoulder.
“Nothing.” Ichigo bit his lip again, trying to relax.
Renji lifted his head for a second, sensing the hesitation despite the hazy quality of his thoughts. “Y’okay?” His breath was hot on Ichigo’s skin as he unconsciously teased the nipple between his fingers.
Ichigo exhaled shakily, squirming under the touch, still worrying his lip though he made no move to stop him. Renji’s eyes narrowed at the reaction, a wayward thought dancing across his mind. He leaned forward again and Ichigo drew in a sharp, hissing breath as he felt teeth sink into the top of his shoulder; not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a little shiver racing up his spine. He shuddered, his lips parting on a silent gasp.
A hand came up of its own accord, tangling in the red hair, surprising them both by pressing him harder into the skin. Renji pulled back, lapping the area, drawing the first muffled groan out of Ichigo. The hand in his hair tightened and he smirked, nipping along Ichigo's exposed neck to recapture his earlobe, biting down harder than he had before.
“Shit,” Ichigo groaned, arching into the touch.
Renji sucked the soft lobe into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. His hand slid back down Ichigo’s chest to splay across his stomach, holding them together, keeping the younger body still as he continued his assault. Ichigo gave another soft, choking moan and Renji felt his own hips twitch in response.
Tentatively, hesitantly, he slid lower, tracing Ichigo’s erection through the cloth of his shorts. Ichigo bucked against his hand, thrusting instinctively, craving the friction.
“Fuck, Renji...” he bit out brokenly, his hips rolling as the fingers made a second, still too subtle pass.
The hand returned, gripping him harder, sliding against him as he jerked convulsively. His eyes fell shut and he clenched his jaw against the sounds that threatened to spill free, arching against the palm stroking him slowly.
“Ya like that?” Renji’s voice was heavy and thick against the back of his neck.
“Stop talking,” Ichigo hissed, already off balance enough without added conversation.
Lips moved against his spine and Renji squeezed him once more before pulling away, leaving him panting and vaguely dissatisfied. There was no time to voice an objection, though, before fingers slid over his hipbone, dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. His heart smashed into his ribs, responding to what he knew was coming even before those long fingers curled over him.
“Ahhh…” Ichigo’s head rolled back, thrusting into the callused hand.
Renji replied with a muffled grunt, sucking at the tender skin where his neck and shoulder met, grinding slowly against him as he started to stroke. Ichigo drove helplessly into the fist, the scrape of Renji’s battle rough skin making it hard to breathe, making his head spin. A thumb curled up, collecting the liquid seeping from his slit, smearing it around the head of his cock in deliberately slow circles. Ichigo trembled, straining against Renji, a broken cry escaping as teeth grazed the pulse beating wildly against his throat.
“F-f-fuck…” Ichigo bit his lip hard, his eyes squeezing shut. It was overwhelming; everything was so strange and fast, but it felt sooo good and he didn’t want it to stop.
Renji released his neck, pulling back to look at him, stroking slowly down his length. He shifted away, nudging Ichigo onto his back, staring at him through escaping hair as his hand continued the torturous rhythm. Ichigo’s eyes opened, hazy and dark with lust, meeting his gaze.
“Ya okay?” he murmured, curling an arm under Ichigo’s neck so he could brush his fingers through the sweat dark hair.
Ichigo stared up at him through half closed lashes, his hips rocking up as the fingers around him squeezed. He understood the real question: was he going to be okay when all of this was over? He gasped, his head straining back against the pillow. He didn’t have an answer for that question, but he was fucking tired of being a coward.
He reached up, catching the end of Renji’s braid, pulling it loose so that he could thread his fingers through the fiery cascade. His other hand slid against Renji’s chest, hesitantly tracing the tattooed lines, unsure of what to do. Renji faltered, momentarily losing that slow, steady rhythm.
“I like it when you touch me,” he confessed, nuzzling against the hand in his hair. “I always have.”
Ichigo licked his lips, his eyes darting to the path his fingers were following, feeling bolder at the admission. Renji was moving again, fingers sliding faster, hips rocking as he ground his erection into the thigh pressed against him. Ichigo’s lashes fluttered and he slid his hand lower, tracing over an already coiled nipple. He took it between his fingers, stroking it experimentally.
“Harder,” Renji breathed, twisting the hand around Ichigo’s cock, leaning into his writhing body.
The younger man complied readily, pinching the hardened bud, rolling it until Renji threw back his head with a throaty groan. There was something powerful about drawing a sound like that from someone like Renji, and Ichigo could think of nothing more important than hearing it again. His hand was shaking as it slipped lower, brushing the top of Renji’s shorts, drawing back nervously.
Renji released his hold on Ichigo, catching his hand and pressing it to the hard length straining against his pants. His breath hitched on a moan, his head falling against the younger man’s shoulder as he bucked into their combined touch. He groaned again when he felt the fingers wrap around him, testing him, sliding over him with growing confidence.
He pulled back and found Ichigo watching, flushed and panting, an almost wild look in his eyes. Renji held that gaze as he brought his hand up, licking across his palm and fingers before slipping them back into the younger man’s shorts. Ichigo’s hips arched off the bed, his head thrown back with a choked shout as the fingers slid effortlessly, fast and hard.
He shoved his hand down Renji’s pants, all hesitation lost under the assault as he gripped him tight, stroking ruthlessly. Renji shuddered, biting down on Ichigo’s shoulder to muffle the sounds that were rising in his throat. Ichigo twisted against him, thrusting wildly into his fist, his eyes rolling back in his head. He could feel the tension coiling tight, begging to be set free, begging for release.
“IIIICHIGOOOO, it’s time to - ggAAHHK.” Isshin had bounded through the door only to trip over some invisible obstacle, staggering into the wall.
Ichigo reacted instantly, shoving Renji back and falling over the edge of the bed in his attempt to put distance between them. He drew his knees up in front of himself, trying to remember how to breathe, thanking every god imaginable that it had been his father and not Karin to come barging in. He heard Renji’s frustrated groan and felt the responding sentiment throb between his legs.
“Don’t you knock?!” he fumed, glaring at the man who still looked flustered from his near fall.
“I-I was coming to welcome my dearest son to the new day.” Isshin’s beaming smile looked almost painful and he seemed to have developed a keen interest in something outside of the window.
“Are you sure he can’t see me?” Renji had shifted closer, his breath tickling Ichigo’s ear. “He’s acting really weird.”
“Why the fuck are you acting so weird?” Ichigo demanded, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“What language to be using so early, think of your poor sisters.” Isshin danced from one foot to the other. “Speaking of your sisters, I must be off; daddy’s love must be shared.”
He tore from the room before Ichigo could respond, slamming the door a little too hard behind him. Ichigo continued to stare into the empty space, his face burning. The bed dipped and Renji settled onto the floor next to him, still frowning.
“He can’t see you, alright? He’s just fucking weird,” he assured him, dropping his head into his hands in mortification.
“Whatever.” Renji moved restlessly, turning to face him. “Ya want me to finish you?”
Ichigo moved his fingers a little, peering at him from the corner of his eye, half incredulous and half tempted. Unfortunately, Isshin chose that moment to rematerialize in the hall, calling out something about breakfast as Karin shouted a continuous string of insults in his wake. Ichigo groaned, his hands sliding back into place, and Renji seemed to recognize this signaled the end of the morning.
“I should probably get back to Urahara’s.” He sighed heavily. “I didn’t finish the report from last night.”
“Yeah, um, I need to take a shower and do a couple of things here,” Ichigo muttered awkwardly. “I’ll be over there to train later.”
Renji rolled to his feet and Ichigo tried not to stare at the front of his shorts, not needing the reminder of his own condition. He dressed quickly and quietly, shoving Zabimaru into his sash and tying back his hair. Ichigo stood, rubbing his neck as he watched him move towards the window. He paused, looking back as if he wanted to say something.
“Look, I…” He ran a hand over his face and Ichigo realized that he was thinking about apologizing.
Still reeling from the mornings activities, and not feeling particularly apologetic himself, Ichigo crossed the distance between them in two strides and crushed his lips against Renji’s. He used the moment of surprise to his advantage, sweeping his tongue into Renji’s mouth. Arms tightened around him, crushing them together, pulling him up as Renji kissed him back, hard. He pulled away, glaring defiantly, needing to prove that he wasn’t going to scare so easily this time.
“This ain’t over,” Renji smirked, some of his earlier tension falling away.
“No shit,” Ichigo smirked back, stepping away and crossing his arms. “Now get the fuck out of my house before someone sees you.”
Renji chuckled, pulling the window open and giving him one last, hard look before leaping to the grass below. Ichigo watched him shunpo away and felt a residual shiver course through his body. It was going to be a long fucking day.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Ichigo sat cross-legged on the ground, staring moodily at Zangetsu sticking out of the sand a few inches away. In the distance Urahara was rummaging through his usual collection of oddities, humming to himself as he waited for the final decision.
Ichigo, bored with his orders to take it easy and feeling strangely irritable, had sought out the former captain as soon as he managed to escape his house. He’d been curious how his experiments were going and having found him ready for another round of tests, offered to see if his Hollow side was up to the task. He hadn’t tried accessing his inner world, opting instead to ask Zangetsu outright to see if it happened to be one of his more forthcoming days. He’d gotten an answer almost immediately, in fact he’d gotten two; his Hollow whispered that he was fine, and Zangetsu offered a somewhat vague warning about overtaxing himself. They'd fallen silent at that point, and Ichigo resigned himself to waiting.
“Any progress?” Urahara asked casually, crouching down in front of him and pressing a sticky metal disc to the inside of his wrist.
Ichigo frowned at it, turning it towards the light for a better look. “No, but I’m getting a weird headache. I think maybe they’re arguing.” He pressed his fingers into his temples and glared at the sword again.
“Hmm.” Urahara placed a hand against Ichigo’s forehead, brushing his reiatsu over the younger man. “There’s no specific rush, this can wait.”
“There’s always a rush.” Ichigo shook him off. “Fucking Aizen’s not just going to sit around and wait for me to feel better.”
Urahara shrugged but conceded the point.
Ichigo huffed, scratching moodily at his wrist. “What do you have that can push me into my inner world? This is getting ridiculous.”
Urahara frowned at him but cocked his head to one side, considering for a moment before making his way back to one of his boxes. Ichigo was about to follow when he felt a tug at the edge of his consciousness.
‘That is unnecessary, Ichigo.’
He dropped back into the sand, “So what’s the decision?”
‘It is safe to utilize your Hollow abilities for a short period of time, though no more than two or three hours.' He sounded displeased and though he wasn’t stupid enough to ask, Ichigo wondered what had been said to make him go against his obvious wishes.
“That’s fine,” he agreed, shaking the sand out of his clothes and pulling Zangetsu out of the ground. “Is there anything else?”
There was no reply.
“Looks like it’ll be fine for a couple of hours,” he informed Urahara, who had paused mid-search to watch the one-sided conversation.
“Well, that gives us one session with the Negacion field, possibly two.” The blond seemed to do a couple of quick calculations in his head. “That should be enough to give me a direction for modifications.”
Ichigo nodded, rolling his shoulders, not really looking forward to fighting his way out of a void dimension but glad to be doing something useful. He watched Urahara fish the strange cube from his pocket, unwinding the chain carefully before slipping it over Ichigo’s head.
“I’ll be monitoring things closely; if it looks like you’re struggling I’ll intervene.” He looked more solemn than usual.
“I thought I was supposed to struggle,” Ichigo pointed out, spinning the cube between his fingers.
“Yes, but after a point it’s no longer productive.” Urahara’s sage look was marred by the smirk tugging at his mouth.
He looked like he was going to say something else but a buzzing behind him drew his attention. He looked back, frowning, and then transferred his gaze to the ladder that led to the surface. Ichigo turned and saw something dark drop through the hole in the ceiling, disappearing behind some rocks that obstructed his view.
“Seems that we have some company,” Urahara said unnecessarily, glancing at Ichigo from the corner of his eye.
They both knew who it was and Ichigo was vaguely uncomfortable with the fact that Urahara seemed to be leveling his curiosity at him, instead of at the approaching figure. He busied himself with rewrapping Zangetsu until their uninvited guest strolled into view.
“Hey.” Renji stopped a few feet away. “Thought maybe you could use a hand. Ain’t got nothin’ better to do.”
“That’s very kind of you, Abarai-kun.” Urahara stepped forward, effortlessly slipping into his most carefree tone. “But I’m afraid the instruments I’m using are calibrated very specifically. It would disrupt the experiment if you were to stay.”
“Uh-huh.” Renji’s eyes left the former captain to linger on Ichigo. “If it’s about the Hollow, it don’t bother me.”
Ichigo saw a look of interest creep into Urahara’s eyes and winced slightly. “It’s not what you think; nothing exciting is going to happen.”
“Then what’s it matter if I stay?” Renji cocked an eyebrow at him.
Ichigo squirmed uncomfortably; he really didn’t want Renji to see this.
“Calibration issues.” He tried to sound bored. “Everything’s really technical.”
Renji made a rude noise, “That’s bullshit.”
He tilted his head slightly, regarding Ichigo with one of his unusually shrewd looks. “It don’t change anythin’. I already know what it means, I just wanna see it.”
“Why?” Ichigo looked to Urahara for help but the blond had dropped all pretenses, shifting his gaze between them with blatant interest. Ichigo scowled at him.
“It’s sorta been buggin’ me since ya told me, and I don’t want it to.” Renji shrugged. “Figured the best thing would be just to come an’ see for myself.”
“Facing your fears?” Ichigo knew the thought shouldn’t bother him so much, but it did. This is why he didn’t want people to know about this shit, because it made them afraid, it made them look at him like he was a different person.
“You’re such a dumbass.” Renji gave him a flat stare. “I already told ya I ain’t scared. I’m just, I don’t know, curious, I guess.”
Ichigo’s jaw was clenched so tight that Renji could see the muscle jumping. He started to take a step forward but drew up when the younger man tensed further.
“Look.” Renji’s eyes narrowed in frustration. “If seein’ the damn Hollow didn’t send me runnin’ then what the fuck is seein’ the mask gonna do?” He let out an exasperated sigh. “The bastard cursed at me, for fuck sake, it don’t get much weirder than that.”
“You’ve actually seen the Hollow?” Urahara had apparently reached the limits of his patient listening skills, a rare look of shock plastered across his face.
“Yeah,” Renji admitted, sparing the other man a glance as though just realizing that he was still there.
The former captain looked like he had about a thousand questions, but he held his tongue. Probably just until Ichigo was stuck in the Negacion field. He scowled at him again.
He really didn’t like the thought of Renji seeing his mask, because it represented the dark part of him that he’d spent so long fighting, the part that he’d been so afraid of. Admittedly, Renji had done better with the Hollow than he would have thought possible, but he’d always seen the mask as different, as something that he’d done willingly.
It didn’t matter that he was in control; he could still feel the power beneath the surface, like black threads running through his veins. He could feel the hard edge of it in battle, could feel it coiling heavy and thick inside of his reiatsu. Shinigami and Hollows were natural enemies, down to the core of their beings, and despite this being his only viable option he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow tainted. Couldn’t help but think that other people would see him as tainted.
Still, Renji already knew the truth of the matter, all he was asking for was the physical proof and some part of Ichigo felt like he owed him that. Renji had put up with a lot of shit from him recently with minimal complaint, which considering their history was really surprising. He had put a lot of trust in Ichigo, and now all he wanted was to have that trust returned.
“Fuck.” Ichigo threw back his head, staring at the pseudo sky in defeat.
“Would you care for a seat, Abarai-kun?” Urahara had apparently learned to read his intricate and subtle degrees of vulgarity.
“I just want to see the mask; I don’t need to stay for the rest if I’m gonna be in the way.” Renji sounded a little subdued for someone who’d just won. Maybe he’d been hoping for less of a fight.
“It’s fine,” Ichigo sighed, meeting his gaze once again. “I wasn’t lying about it being boring, all you have to do is sit and wait.”
Renji shrugged, looking between Ichigo and Urahara.
“So,” he sounded the slightest bit apprehensive. “What happens now?”
Ichigo clenched his fists a couple of times, trying to release the tension in his muscles. “Might as well get it over with.” He tried to sound calm, glancing at Urahara, “We can start the experiment in a few minutes.”
The former captain nodded and Ichigo turned back to Renji, his whole frame rigid. “Are you ready?”
Renji’s lips twitched slightly. “You’re freakin’ out again.”
“Asshole.” Ichigo found himself smirking, the knot in his stomach loosening.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself for any possible reaction before reaching up and drawing his hand across his face. He felt the mask forming, felt the twinge of pain that had accompanied his bankai, and then the power snapped into place. He dropped his hand, staring at Renji, watching his eyes widen in reaction to the mask and the dark bite of his reiatsu.
Renji barely hesitated, covering the distance between them, ignoring the way that Ichigo tensed. He stopped about a foot away, staring down into the black and gold eyes, his brows drawn together in a frown. A hand came up slowly and Ichigo had to fight the urge to retreat as fingers traced the red markings beneath his eye. Renji repeated the gesture, tracing the lines across his forehead, brushing against his hair with a gentle, sweeping caress.
“Can you talk?” he asked, his brows still furrowed in concentration.
“Yeah.” Ichigo’s voice was soft, muffled by the barrier between them.
He felt a surge of power and reached up to catch Renji’s wrist as the mask broke away, feeling him twitch in surprise. The darkness faded from his eyes and he blinked as he felt Renji’s fingertips brush over his cheek, following the invisible pattern of the mask once again. He stared up at him, unable to think of an appropriate response as the touch sent a tingle down the side of his neck.
He snapped back to himself a second later and pulled away, noticing Urahara grinning in a way that made his face burn. He turned, clearing his throat as he released Renji’s wrist. Whatever reaction he’d been imagining, that hadn’t been it.
“Well now you’ve seen it.” He was proud of the fact that his voice sounded normal. “We should start the tests, the clock’s ticking now.”
Urahara nodded, still grinning, and turned to retrieve the necessary components. Renji just watched as Ichigo stepped away, walking to a flat patch of sand before turning to face them again. He licked his lips, reaching up to grasp Zangetsu before nodding sharply.
“Mask on.” Urahara’s grin had settled into a smirk.
Ichigo pulled the mask over his face once again, his fingers clenching tight on Zangetsu's hilt. He had one last image of Renji watching him with concern before everything pulled apart and the world dropped away.
(goto chapter 11, pt. 2)