Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Red Thread, White Soul ❯ Chapter 2

Red Thread, White Soul

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach; Kubo Tite and Perriot Studios do, and although the latter likes to taunt viewers with yaoi-ish scenes, the former apparently wrote the characters of Renji and Ishida as completely heterosexual (the most appealing thing about Ishida being that he tests false positive on your average person’s gaydar). Never you mind though, this story is a total yaoi fangurl piece, and we will return to your regularly scheduled canon veneration and het shipping once I get this one out of my system.

Warnings: Male/male sexual stuff, not romantic at all. Implied het and characters have hetero-centric attitudes.

Description: Renji x Ishida. Implied Renji x Rukia, implied Ishida x Nemu (and Ishida x Orihime in this part). Takes place during Ishida’s last night in Soul Society. Partly inspired by this picture: http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y130/debbiechanlovesvegeta/12.jpg

Thank you to Osensong for finding this fanart by Mr. Randomness on a Japanese website.

Thank you to those who asked me to continue this story. You made me realize that the conflict (therefore the story) wasn’t over; the fact some conflict here takes place during a lemon is erotic lagniappe. ^_^ I love to take Ishida’s virginity.

Part Two

Goodbye Soul Society, Goodbye Soul Society. Ishida’s mind had been repeating those words for hours. Tomorrow he would be in the Realm of the Living. Soul Society could be as though it never existed. Tonight wasn’t…. happening? Who knows--maybe upon entering his home world, his powers would return?

Ishida had never been carried by anyone since he was a small child. Even when Urahara-san had tried to heal him from a wound (inflicted by the very man in whose arms Ishida was now being carried), Ishida had clenched the shopkeeper’s sleeve and insisted "Don’t. Take care of Kurosaki first. Leave me here."

Wait. Sado-kun had flung him over his shoulder and carried him through the dangai. Ishida winced at the memory. Had someone carried Ishida to the infirmary after Tousen shot him with that strange buzzing zanpakutou? At least Ishida couldn’t remember that humiliation. Right now, he was sailing, the hem of his Quincy tunic flapping, as he was carried in a leisurely shunpou across the night by Abarai Renji. Where are we going? Someplace outside the walled city if the journey was taking this long. Ishida calculated that they had been speeding across the Seireitei for almost a full minute.

Abarai-kun held him under the arms, and Ishida’s feet were hanging like the useless stuffed feet of a plushie toy. I am not helpless, Ishida told himself. I am not being taken advantage of. Yet he knew the truth was that ever since Kurotsuchi Nemu had confronted him at the far North Gate, pulled down his pants, and sucked him, he had been wandering around in a stupor of sexual vulnerability. His innocence was gone. He had not been able to stop thinking about the incident. He had wondered (with much darkness and guilt) if he just grabbed Inoue-san and kissed her, would her body respond before her mind, and then could he--?

Ishida felt himself land on a grassy spot with unexpected gentleness, and Abarai-kun’s face hovered over his. The moonlight was behind the face, so Ishida could not read his expression. He didn’t have to; Abarai-kun’s face moved to kiss him.

Ishida turned away.

"Noooo," Abarai whispered. "What’s the point of trying new things if you’re going to hesitate?"

"I don’t think I can--" Ishida felt himself get harder as Abarai breathed on his neck. Of course, he had been feeling a perpetual hard-on for hours; the memory of the Nemu blowjob had been clinging to his consciousness. "I can do other things, but I don’t think I can kiss a man on the mouth."

"Alright." Abarai’s lips began to travel across Ishida’s jawline. "I’ll stay away from your mouth."

The night air was warm. The grass was moist. Abarai Renji’s mouth was both warm and moist, and Ishida was thinking (with a growing sense of panic) that maybe the Shinigami had plans for Ishida involving sexual gestures other than what Kurotsuchi Nemu had done.

Abarai undid the double loop of Ishida’s cape with ease. The fact that he didn’t break it reassured Ishida somehow. Of what? What was it that Ishida didn’t want to happen?

"How does this open?" Abarai was running his hand up and down Ishida’s front, looking for clasps.

"There’s a zipper in the back, but--"

Abarai lifted Ishida’s torso and found the zipper. "You make strange clothes," he said and pulled Ishida’s arms out of the sleeves.

Ishida felt exposed, embarrassed--he knew that he was skinnier than your average warrior and expected his naked chest to have no erotic appeal, but before that thought could lead him down a path of other insecurities, Abarai placed his lips against a nipple and inhaled the tender flesh there.

Pleasure jolted him; Ishida’s back lifted right off the ground, and he felt his chest butt Abarai in the face.

"Liked that, did you?" Ishida could hear the grin in Abarai’s voice. "You little bitch."

The lips lowered and began to suck again, more gently this time, and Ishida felt his head fall back into the grass. Had he been expecting anything like this? Abarai seemed to have a thing for Rukia. Not an unattractive girl but one lacking in the chest area… of course Ishida’s preference was for larger…

"Mmmmmmmm," Ishida threw his bare arms over his head and lost his train of thought.

The pleasure was stirring as quickly as Abarai’s tongue. Ishida felt the right side of his face smack the grass, then the left. He felt that it was not seemly to be thrashing his head from side to side, but he could not control it. There was a pressure against his crotch--Ishida was not certain if it was Abarai’s hand or merely the heft of the Shinigami’s body. Intentional or not, the pressure held Ishida in a steady state of arousal, even as that tongue accelerated in circles around one nipple.

Ishida had begun to think that this was the way he was going to happily release, but Renji stopped that glorious licking, lifted himself off Ishida’s body and said, "Take the rest of your clothes off."

Ishida was panting. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness somewhat and he could see the sharp planes of the handsome face before him. Abarai Renji was a wild one: among the Shinigami he was a rebel and pirate, the type admired by foolish men and women alike and despised by anyone with good sense. Ishida had good sense. What the hell was he doing out here in the middle of nowhere with Abarai Renji?

"I said take your clothes off. I’m not going to bother myself with your strange Quincy zippers."

Ishida wanted to tell Abarai that zippers were not a Quincy invention, but this didn’t seem the place for it. He bent forward to pull off his boots and saw that they were in the middle of a high meadow. There was a city nearby--lights glowing past a borderline of trees.

"District 78," Abarai said. He seemed to notice Ishida’s apprehension and added, "Don’t worry. We’re far from the Seireitei but I’ll bring you back." The Shinigami’s obi and hakama thumped to the ground--the cloth was that heavy. Abarai stood, wearing only his black top by the sleeves, before Ishida. His abdomen was incredibly muscular, each ridge emphasized by the brown zig-zag tattoos that the Shinigami also sported on his face and neck.

Abarai’s arousal was so prominent and enraged that Ishida immediately remembered what it was that he didn’t want to happen. Hadn’t he told Abarai-kun that he, Ishida Uryuu, did not fuck? Alright, alright, it wasn’t like there wasn’t a way to ensure that no fucking would occur. Ishida would just blow the Shinigami first. Ishida had fully expected to reciprocate an orgasm for an orgasm. The encounter with Nemu had been an anomaly--the girl had been "thanking" Ishida for sparing her father’s life. Ishida was not going to get out of this encounter without putting Abarai Renji’s very large sexual organ in his mouth.

Ishida leaned forward, parting his lips. Abarai stopped him before he was even near his crotch. "Not yet," he said, holding Ishida by the hair. "You think you can finish me like that?"

Ishida’s scalp hurt. He looked up at Abarai’s face and tried not to look as afraid as he felt.

Abarai smiled. This Shinigami smiled a lot. Ishida wondered if that was because he was enjoying his miserable life or because he wanted to appear cavalier to his enemies.

"I want to enjoy you for a good while," said the red-haired Shinigami.

This is not an encounter with an enemy, thought Ishida, but in the next second he wasn’t so sure because Abarai had grabbed him by the wrists and pinned him to the ground. He held Ishida’s arms over his head and thrust his tongue into an ear. The soft smothering feeling was intensely exciting.

"Kiss me," said Abarai. His tongue was making long, sweeping licks across Ishida’s cheek.

"No, I already said--"

"Fine. I’ll fuck with that pretty face later." Abarai released Ishida’s wrists and ran his hands down Ishida’s bare torso, briefly tweaking the nipples and palming further down.

Yes. Ishida wanted this. Yes. This was what he wanted.

Abarai did not, however, put his mouth or hands around Ishida’s arousal. He pushed Ishida’s thighs apart. Ishida made a whimper of protest but he was too excited to resist. Was the Shinigami going to--?

"Aaaaah!" Ishida was startled by his own cry and soon after embarrassed by the loudness of it, but what the--Abarai Renji was sucking his balls. Ishida’s heart pounded wildly, and he was certain that only a second ago his heart was one organ that had not been in a state of complete over-excitement. Either the strange sensation of his testicles being rolled in Abarai’s mouth or the mere fact that he had yelled so loudly had frightened him. What if someone hears? What if someone comes to see--?

Abarai’s lips were somewhere else now. They were tugging at that piece of loose flesh under the testicles. That was … okay. Now the tongue was laving back and forth, from crease of thigh to crease of thigh, skimming across the tenderness of Ishida’s anus. That was okay too. Oddly arousing in a gentle way.

Now the tongue was circling that sensitive center. Not too bad but--

Ishida sat up. "No!"

Abarai Renji began to move his hand up and down Ishida’s cock, gathering wetness. There was a lot of wetness. From his sitting position, Ishida could see himself bubbling like a fountain with pre-ejaculatory fluid. He knew exactly what the Shinigami was planning to do with that drenched hand.

"No," Ishida said weakly. His protestations carried no weight. He was the one who had consented to be here. He was not helpless; he could still fight. He could get up and run away.

Why wasn’t he getting up and running away?

Abarai thrust his tongue inside Ishida. There was no discomfort but not any delight either. It had to be a complete myth that some men enjoyed taking it up the ass. Ishida was not well-versed in biology and fairly innocent about sexual matters, but he had heard about men who enjoyed--

Abarai had removed his mouth. The warm night air turned cool against the wetness where his mouth had been.

No.

The other hand was there now, rubbing the sensitive ring. Ishida felt himself contract against it. No, this was not going to happen.

"Open up," breathed Abarai Renji’s voice against his buttocks. "I spit inside you so you’re all lathered up. It won’t hurt. Feel." And with that last word, Abarai thrust a finger inside.

Ishida gasped but no, it didn’t hurt. Was that another finger in there now?

"It’s just muscle there, boy," said the Shinigami. "Whatever size thing you can push out of there you can take inside. And there’s a spot--" Ishida felt a poke, and he gasped with pleasure. "There’s a spot that a little bitch like you is going to love."

Why did that feel so good? Ishida felt his mouth opening, no sound coming out, as Abarai pressed that spot again. He felt himself falling back against the grass. He could see black clouds crossing a dim gray moon. He could see his own chest heaving.

It was going to happen. He was going to be fucked, wasn’t he?

Abarai Renji surprised him by taking a thigh in each hand and attacking his crotch with that wild tongue again. He licked up and down the length of Ishida’s cock, sucked his balls, spit into his hesitant hole. Ishida could feel the wetness pouring out and into the crevice between his buttocks.

Ishida was still very scared.

Then Abarai was hovering over him and wearing an expression so drunk with tenderness that Ishida was shocked. Abarai-kun was not a bad man, was he? He had saved Kuchiki-san. He had fought on the side of right. He wasn’t going to make this a terrible experience for a complete virgin, was he?

"I can kiss your hair, can’t I?" Abarai was bowing his head over Ishida’s. "You smell like another world." The Shinigami was breathing hard against Ishida’s hair. "Another world."

Ishida’s glass fogged, and the pressure of Abarai’s shoulders on his face pushed the frames painfully against his nose. That discomfort took Ishida’s focus away from his lower body where Abarai Renji was now pressing, insisting on access.

"Open wide," the Shinigami breathed.

So Ishida did. He spread his legs apart, and something hot and thick moved inside. No, it didn’t hurt. Even if it had, Ishida had been prepared to bear it. He had expected it to be a somewhat humiliating position, but it didn’t feel like that--not at the moment, anyway. It was all so wildly arousing--two males in moonlight doing this strange and intimate thing.

Abarai Renji made a low groan and began to move. Ishida began to relax. It wasn’t bad at all, and as the hot thickness penetrated deeper, he didn’t even feel it. The Shinigami did feel it, however, as was evident by his closed eyes, clenched jaw and heavier breathing. The sight was … thrilling. Ishida felt his hands grab the black shirt that Abarai still wore by the sleeves. He pushed his hips forward, wanting to feel something inside again, but the only sensation was that of his own cock pressing against Abarai’s stomach.

"You like being fucked, don’t you?" asked the Shinigami.

"No." It wasn’t a lie. He didn’t feel anything inside.

Abarai Renji began to pump with more fervor. He lifted himself away from Ishida’s torso, and Ishida felt his own hands let loose Abarai’s sleeves. No, this isn’t right, I wanted to hold onto something.

In the next moment, Abarai’s hands were under Ishida’s thighs, and then Ishida felt himself bending in half. His bare feet brushed Abarai’s ears.

He was being pounded now. There was no pain, but the position was awkward. Ishida found himself wishing for the Shinigami to finish.

"You’re not fighting me, boy," said Abarai Renji between grunts. "Why aren’t you fighting me?"

And then Ishida saw it again--the great dark red Shinigami spirit thread shooting to the sky from someplace in Abarai Renji’s soul. There was never a source point for a spirit thread--each thread merely surrounded the its soul--but this one seemed to be growing directly from Abarai’s lower abdomen.

Ishida felt himself being rocked with less force; Abarai’s thrusts had lulled, and Ishida’s mind was wandering. Human spirit threads ranged in color from transparent to dark yellow, with most being white, and Ishida had grown used to seeing fields and fields of the light-colored threads in an ordinary landscape. Shinigami spirit threads were so different. He had never seen one until Kurosaki Ichigo’s, and even Kurosaki’s did not do what the threads in Soul Society here did. Abarai Renji could apparently use his to sense Ishida’s spirit, to read his mind, to understand--

The red thread was diving towards Ishida’s face now. It was going to sense him. What did it want to know? Ishida felt the red ribbon lie across his bare chest.

"Fuck, boy," Abarai said. "You scared me. I thought you were dead." A couple thrusts later, Abarai let out a growling sound. Was it over? Abarai pulled out, and Ishida felt a warm wetness pour out. It was over.

The Shinigami lifted his body away, and Ishida’s cock was pointing against Abarai’s belly like an admonition. Abarai brushed the underside of it with a casual hand. "Give me a minute," he said. "I’ll finish you."

The sky was as black as ever, not a clue that dawn was approaching. Ishida was perfectly content to lie on the grass and pretend that he was something inanimate, like a piece of wood or a stone.

"I wasn’t hitting the right spot," Abarai finally said. "I should have had you screaming."

"It’s… okay," Ishida heard himself say. "It wasn’t bad. Why were you trying to sense me? How do you do that?"

"I told you. You were lying there like a dead rabbit in the meadow, and I wanted to see if you--damn it, boy, I can’t do this with anyone else. I apparently can only sense Quincy souls, and a hell of a lot of good that does me since you’re the last one left."

Ishida turned his head to one side. Last one. He had been the last one. Now his powers were gone, and whatever Abarai Renji was picking up on had to be mere crumbles of Ishida’s former Quincy self.

"What do you sense?" asked Ishida. "What did you mean when you said there was a white soul?"

"I just saw a picture," Abarai said. "At the bottom of your spirit thread--maybe it’s reiatsu that can be reawakened, maybe--"

Ishida didn’t want to hope.

Abarai was quiet. The night continued to pass. Ishida did not feel his sexual excitement waning, but the fear was gone.

"It’s been a long time," Abarai said, turning towards Ishida again and crawling to cover his body. "I used to fuck and be fucked by skinny boys in this very meadow. Seems like I’ve forgotten a few things, like how--"

The face hovering over Ishida’s was as sad as he had ever seen it. Abarai Renji not looking cocky and smiling. What a sight.

"You’re not like them. They--we--were rough, starved, angry boys. You’re--" Abarai’s lips were a centimeter away from Ishida’s. "You’re a white soul," Abarai said and kissed him.

It was a soft pressure; the kiss surprised Ishida, not only because he had never experienced a kiss before but because he had not imagined that this was the sort of kiss the Shinigami had intended to plant on him.

Abarai pulled away and whatever he saw in Ishida’s eyes encouraged him, so he moved towards another kiss.

Deeper. The Shinigami’s tongue swept through Ishida’s mouth the way it had filled Ishida’s ear. The feeling was a soft, muted excitement. There was just wetness and pressure, but it was so… sexy. For the first time that night, Ishida felt himself respond with his arms--they rose to cling around Abarai’s neck.

Something to hold onto, he told himself.

End

Ah hell, I had intended this to be cold, crude and consensual, but I had to give Renji his kiss. There you go. Fill in Ishida’s orgasm for yourself--apparently I can not give him one with anyone but Orihime. I’m a hopelessly het shipper. Perhaps, though, I shall dash away to see how many other ways I can take Ishida’s virginity. There are PLENTY characters in Bleach. ~.^