Title: A Trace of Memory
Disclaimer: Bleach belongs mainly to Kubo Tite, and I wonder what exactly he's planning with whatever's going on now...
Rating: NC-17 for language and imagery
Warning/Info: Language, angst, spoilers for Chapter 423
Pairing: Hichigo x Ichigo
A/N: Written for
31_days , 5th Nov prompt: "We don't have to save the world" xD I was too tempted, so I ended up with this instead of working on my long fic.
When he regained consciousness, he found himself in his inner world. Everything seemed the same, as if nothing had changed following his use of Mugetsu. “King.” From behind him came the sneer he was accustomed to. “Draw your blade.”
Turning, he only had a split second to see his inner hollow smirking, before slashing at him with the pure white Zangetsu he used. ‘When did we activate bankai?’ He was not given any time to consider the thought as it turned and slashed again. Instinctively, he raised Zangetsu swiftly, blocking the subsequent blow with his black Zanpakuto.
Blades of contrast clashed and metal rang with the blue sky as the backdrop. It was a dance, an elegant one, as black and white sped past each other, meeting momentarily before breaking apart once again.
“You’re not taking me seriously, King. Haven’t I warned you about that before?” Sarcastic as usual, with what seemed to be a frown on its face, it starred at him.
“If you think so then. Getsuga Tensho!” As the familiar black wave of reiatsu arced out from his blade, it was echoed and struck out by another, exactly the same but white instead, from the opposing white blade.
‘Since you want this, bring it on then.’ Like a gale, he dashed out; the look in his eyes was completely different this time. “Chi.” He wondered for a moment if he had heard wrongly before throwing himself back into the battle once again. This time, he would enjoy it - he did not know if this was a dream or if he would ever battle again.
The grin on his face matching the smirk on its face, they fought, battled and clashed. As if preparing for a final blow, they paused in mid air, gathered their reiatsu and sped towards each other. Instead of a stalemate he had expected, their blades shattered on impact.
However, it did not back away even then but came towards him. Expecting a blow, he raised his hands to block it. Unexpected, it grabbed his face with both hands and harshly forced its lips to his, tongue probing eagerly. Before he even knew what was happening, he had let it in.
It did not last long though. The next thing he noticed was that they were both naked and it was a physical replica of him, down to the smallest details. “Like what you see, King? I think you want it.”
Surprisingly, he could not remember blushing. “Maybe I do, and so do you.” A moment later, it was behind him. One hand tweaked a nipple, the other stroked him experimentally, and he whimpered softly as he felt it bite down on his shoulder. “You’re just waiting to be fucked, aren’t you?”
All of a sudden, it let go of him. Turning around, he only caught a glimpse of it spitting on its hand before the other hand shoved him down. Shuddering as a cold digit entered him, he grew harder as it whispered harshly, “The King wants to be fucked by his horse, eh?”
He could not explain why he was so aroused. Before he could protest though, it had inserted another finger, twisting, before driving it in deeply. ‘Shit!’ He bit down on his lip, unable to stifle the groan as he writhed on the slick digits.
“Fuck!” His shout echoed as it drove itself into him in one swift motion, biting down on his shoulder. It did not stop, but instead increased the pace, until it was as though he was being ridden. “And the horse rides the king now.” It snickered in his ear, before stopping, then reaching over and grabbing him tightly.
All together, the combination of pain and pleasure had driven him so close to the edge. In an attempt to stop all the noises he was making, he had bit down hard, hard enough to taste the coppery tang of his blood. He could still hear the moans he had been trying to stifle though and it still held his weeping arousal.
“What does my king command?” “Fuck,” he gasped as it brushed a finger over the sensitive head. “As my king commands then.” Releasing its tight grip, it stroked him instead, hand moving in time with its thrusts, gaining speed quickly.
Unbelievably hard, the waves of pleasure crashed into him and he bit down on his fist as he came hard and fast, covering his chest with white streaks. Clamping down on it, he felt a shudder, and then he felt empty.
The emptiness bugged him for some reason and when he stood and turned to look at it, he saw for the first time, a tinge of sorrow buried in the maniacal expression. “Well King, that’s it then. You know, we don’t have to save the world all the time.” As it faded away, so did the blue sky and the grey skyscrapers.
When he opened his eyes next, he saw concerned faces and knew in an instant that it had been saying goodbye.