A more than fortunate form of torture || For abaxrpg, NSFW BOY LOVE WITHIN!

[savior_n_black]

It had been a long day.

Hours ago, Ichigo had stumbled back to the store covered in his own blood, and meeting a furious hollow at the door. He'd had to use his mask just for the extra energy to push back the splintering pain of broken bones, broken face, and all the swallowed, impotent anger the injuries bore evidence of.
Shiro had reamed him up one side, down the other, and probably informed the whole damn store, and it's motley group of inhabitants what happened to Ichigo to cause him to look like some horror movie extra. Rukia's cold fury was just as bad, though she restrained herself from kicking him him in the face thanks to his already-broken nose. She didn't need to, anyway, Ichigo had kept his eyes pointed at the floor as he hissed, and clenched his teeth through the painful, acid-sensation of Shiro mending broken bones, and torn cartilage.

Rinzler aside, the stress, and worry of weeks, even a full month on end were piling up. Yukio's presence in the city, the tricks of chocolates, and strange behavior out of Madsen, the creepy way Bradley-san kept acting around Yori-san, and both the boys watching the older man with misgivings, and Lior constantly finding a way to find trouble, plus the flaw, or whatever-it-was in Ichigo, and Shiro's shared soul chain weighed heavily on Ichigo's mind. Byakuya's continued idiocy over the tangled relationship between human, hollow, and shinigami didn't help, and Ichigo was more than happy that the captain, and his wife were moving to a new space of their own. He felt bad for Rukia, because it was her family that was pulling her in so many directions, what with Hisana's unsettled place in Rukia's life, and Byakuya's outright disdain for Ichigo in general. He felt bad, but he also kept his damn mouth shut around Hisana because he didn't want to add his own ( less than complimentary ) opinions on any older sibling abandoning the younger in the ghetto as a baby to cause anymore trouble for Rukia than she already dealt with.
It was all piled up, all a mess in Ichigo's head, and he just...just needed to think for a while.

Think...and feel so incredibly lonely, that it was almost a physical ache.

It had been a few hours into the 'night' ( or so any of them reckoned 'night' when it was always dark in this place ) before Shiro had come back to the little alcove that served as their shared bedroom, too. There was silence, then, and that was so much worse.

But, Ichigo had purposefully kept his thoughts to himself. It was taking work, because he just wasn't very good at that level of control, but...he just needed a little quiet, a little bit of time without the censure of his loved ones to sort through his own head.

...And to dig out the little bottle of lube he'd carefully stashed after the last time that Rukia had taken him along to Cheetara-san's lingerie shop to find bras, and panties for Yori.

When Shiro came back, though, Ichigo was curled on his side, under the covers, with the blankets pulled up nearly to his face. He stared fixedly at the other wall, the hand under his pillow clutched around the incriminating little bottle, and waited in silence.

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[savior_n_black]

It took a moment to realize Shiro’s face was right next to his now, his hand sliding down down over his hip. Ichigo bucked his hips forward a little, involuntarily, and Shiro’s touch continued to slide maddeningly in, and out. Ichigo felt on fire now. He gave in and growled, twisting his hips in a desirous thrust across Shiro's, fingers curling to cut at white skin on his shoulder. Shiro's words were lost in Ichigo's groan at it, and he pressed forward to find the hollow's mouth, sucking sharply on his lip. His other hand reached back to slap that damned tail away, pressing his hips backward, grinding his aching erection against Shiro.

Shiro's demanding plea gets entirely ignored, and instead Ichigo snapped his teeth bare inches from the hollow's nose, and lifted himself up completely, breaking the delicious contact of bare skin. Only for a moment, though. And only to reposition himself, reach back to press one rough stroke into the hollow's aching erection, and then hold Shiro steady as Ichigo lowered himself by slow increments.

Entry was slow-going, and the position of holding himself up with his legs, holding Shiro's wrist down with one hand, and guiding all at the same time made Ichigo tremble violently...but it was so very worth it. Moaning under his breath, the stinging pain of being roughly stretched was outweighed by the fantastic sensation coiling through his lower belly at the same time. Shiro slid further in, filling Ichigo, grinding to a halt when his hips pressed against the back of Ichigo’s thighs. He could feel everything, even the gradual twitch of Shiro's cock so deep inside him. Ichigo trembled, teeth bared, eyes squeezed shut as he forced both himself, and Shiro to stay still for just a few seconds. Because a different type of heat combating the burn coming off his skin made everything throb, and ache. It was almost too much, just this, just the doubled onslaught of sensation, and Ichigo had to arch his spine, subtly twisting his hips again to bear the painful pleasure. The movement was enough to wring a shuddering groan from him, and finally, finally a small push back with thighs, a rock of hips, and within two more tries? Had a smoothly measured pace going.

Ichigo gasped, opened black, and gold eyes to look down in triumph at his hollow. His lips pulled back in a grin that made him indistinguishable from his hollow, and without warning, let go of Shiro's wrist. Sat all the way back, and braced his clawed hands on Shiro's bent knees. Fully riding Shiro. Not only riding the hollow, but taking his own pleasure, fully aware that Shiro was enjoying the show, too, and acting as wanton, and uninhibited as Ichigo never would act normally.

Rolling his hips forward, Ichigo threw his head back, and growled with the heady rush of sensations; so full, overheated skin damp with moisture, toes curling against Shiro's white thighs, claws slicing into white skin just above his knees, and best of all, the power he held, and wielded mercilessly over his infuriating, intoxicating white twin.

[holeheart]

Being ignored is frustrating, dammit. Shiro wants to HEAR it, hear that rough, warbling voice call his name. Tch… and batting his tail away too! What was he planning? That fucking asshole. Ichigo's snap gets a snap in return, a clacking of sharp teeth and an open-mouthed hiss.

Though, speaking of fucking assholes…

Well then. If that's how it's going to be. Ichigo didn't real have to hold him up too much, seeing as he was as stiff as a board and standing firmly at attention. His formerly occupied hand moves up to Ichigo's shoulder, digging blunted nails into his skin, though they're not blunt for long. Free of Ichigo's earlier restriction, his claws reappear from they fleshy sheath, digging into Ichigo's skin and leaving four parallel marks. And his other hand, now free as well, moves to grab a hold of Ichigo's erection. That hand is used with more care; no unfortunate accidents. Shiro lets out a moan of pleasure as Ichigo closes around his pounding erection. God it felt good. Too good. Fucking Ichigo was an exercise in losing oneself in pure pleasure. It was so easy to do, thanks to the dual sensory experience. The overwhelming feeling of fucking and being fucked, all in the same instant? It was enough to drive anyone completely over the edge. Probably why these sessions were always relatively short…

But this time, at least, they managed to get a rhythm going. For a few thrusts, Shiro just sort of lies there. Then he adds to it, rocking his hips, but missing the beat. After a few misses, they're in sync. In and out, up and down, moving at a steady pace. Shiro's mouth stretches into a matching grin. It's like looking into a mirror, even moreso than usual, and goddamn that was hot. Ichigo acting this way… Shiro loved him either way, to be honest. When he was letting loose, it was just hot, animal fucking. Rough and tumble, bloody and sticky with sweat. When Ichigo was in his right mind, well… then it was more like a game. A game that Shiro played, tempting Ichigo, getting him to blush, to give in, to admit he wanted it. Different experiences.

Both wonderful.

And fucking hell this was nice. Being topped, while being inside? There was something liberating about it. But as far as Shiro's animal instincts were concerned, he wasn't just the bottom. He had to at least be equal partners, and for the blue marks on his own knees, Shiro gives Ichigo another set across the other shoulder. Lets out a hiss and squeezes Ichigo's cock in rhythm with their hips. Something this good wouldn't last much longer.

[savior_n_black]

Ichigo gasped sharply when one of Shiro's well-timed thrusts finds its mark inside. His hips stutter, his cock twitches in Shiro's hand, and he breathes a sharp, quiet, "Fuck."

Claw tipped fingers dig deeper gouges in Shiro's legs, the impact of white hips jostling Ichigo, throwing him off tempo enough that those claws drag, opening cuts down inner thighs, and the echo of the stinging pain makes him shudder all over like a plucked harpstring. Another thrust - this one joined by a coaxing grip around Ichigo's aching erection, and he can't help it. Ichigo falls forward, catching himself on hands braced above Shiro's shoulders as his mouth falls open on a delirious moan.

Each thrust of Shiro's hips is mirrored by Ichigo's in reverse. Each push, and pull, each time the hollow slots deep inside him, Ichigo's hips stutter forward, into the stroking hand around him, until his joints feel liquified, and even his arms give out so that his face gets pressed into the crook of Shiro's shoulder. Biting down on white skin to smother the embarrassing, hitching sounds mixed up with little growls, his spine arches, and bucks, meeting those thrusts eagerly, so close--

And then that beautiful, wonderful, damnable hand squeezes carefully around his cock, thumb tracing the slit, and Ichigo is lost. A sound hitches low in his chest, something halfway between a moan and a sob, and then his mouth lets go from the locked bite over Shiro's pulse, and gasps against the shell of the hollow's ear;

"Shiro--!"

Ichigo rocks against him - desperate, wanton, messy and eager and frantic - as he feels the cusp of his own orgasm surging towards him, eagerly meeting the snap of hips with desperate thrusts of his own, no longer caring about 'winning' or 'losing', and chanting unintelligible syllables that might have been Shiro's name mixed with the reverb-laced growling.

A half dozen thrusts, and he comes apart; suddenly, perfectly. Ichigo's whole body arches when he cums; spine taut, head thrown back, face a mess of bliss and release and satisfaction, shuddering all over as he cums messily all over Shiro's hand, and stomach.

[holeheart]

God, it was good to have instant notification of when Shiro hit that sweet spot. It made it so much easier to keep hitting it. Their bond made for intense, albeit short, sex. They were a well oiled machine, in perfect time. Ichigo may have made attempts to stifle his noises, but Shiro did no such thing, happily letting out cries of pleasure and pain, growls and hisses and moans. His own sounds become rhythmic, the only intelligible words being "Oh fuck" and various forms thereof.

And, as usual, one of them cumming? Sets off a wonderfully euphoric, wonderfully sticky chain reaction. Both spines arch into each other as Ichigo's cum explodes over Shiro's hand and stomach, warm and familiar. "Dammit… Ichigo!!" Only a fraction of a second later, Shiro comes, filling Ichigo up and excess spurts out of the edges. Their faces had to be pretty hilarious as they both jolted and let loose a bit more. But who the hell cared. Ichigo was hot as fuck, and they were both ridiculously satisfied. Shiro brings his cum-covered hand up to his mouth and licks some of it off before offering it to Ichigo.

"C'mon. Heh… is that… all we've got?"

Let's go again.