Disclaimer: Still not mine.

Ichigo was sick of this.

Horny as he was (and he was very horny—teenage hormones were a real bitch), this was excessive. Normal teenagers, when they were horny, jacked off or, if they were lucky, had sex with someone. Someone human, that is. Someone who didn't live in their mind and try to kill them on a regular basis.

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stop thinking about the goddamned hollow and his goddamn smirk and how goddamn fucking horny he was. Even if this hadn't all been perverted, he had too much homework to finish for him to do anything about his … problem. He'd missed school every day this week except today, and thus he had to have three days' worth of homework finished by tomorrow.

A few hours later, he finally finished the last of his homework and slammed the algebra book shut with a loud sigh before stuffing everything haphazardly into his book bag. It barely fit: he had had a freaking ton of homework to do.

Falling back on his bed, he tried to ignore his increasing frustration. Damn it! He was not going to give in this time. He'd just … jerk off in the shower, or something.

All the same, he could see gold-and-black eyes, white hair, pale skin on the insides of his eyelids. With a yelp, Ichigo sat up and scrubbed at his face. A glance at the clock revealed that it was already midnight. His family would be in bed, asleep, by this time. Like he should be.

Like I would be, he thought angrily, if it wasn't for the fucking hollow! He rolled over with a muffled groan and buried his face in his pillow.

Given, he thought with some resignation, he had started this whole thing himself. He had thought he would crack if he didn't find some way to get rid of at least some of his tension and frustration. And the hollow was always there if he needed release, available any time Ichigo wanted him; the hollow was happy to get off as well. It was sex without ties. Except, of course, for the particularly disturbing thought that said that this was a hollow and more than that, this was his hollow. This was a piece of his soul, a piece of himself. What did that say about him? Nothing good, he answered his own question darkly.

But beyond all that, he knew why he returned to the hollow time and time again.

The hollow almost felt safe. There was no way he would betray his "King." Who would he betray him to? There was no one else who could interact with him except for Zangetsu. And besides, betrayal like that would hurt the hollow as well.

The crowning reason, of course, though: the sex was freakin' glorious. It was great. The hollow was absolutely unrestrained; the two of them went at it like especially violent rabbits.

No doubt drawn by his "King's" inner turmoil, the hollow abruptly spoke up.

"You wanna have some fun now, King?" He paused, almost seeming hopeful. "We haven't done anything in days," he continued, voice partway between a whine and a wheedle. Clearly Ichigo was not the only one eager to release some tension.

But he was staying firm to his recent resolution. "No," he said out loud to reinforce it to his hollow. It took quite a bit to get through that thick skull sometimes.

"King, you're neglectin' yer horse in here," the hollow continued. This time his voice was all whine, without that trace of persuasion which had been there before.

Ichigo gritted his teeth. He was tempted to go into his inner world and shut the hollow up by force—but if he went into his inner world right now, he had no illusions about what would actually happen; he and the hollow would fight. Then, of course, they would fuck until they were drained and Ichigo would leave the inner world and sleep like a log until something woke him up.

So shutting the hollow up physically was not an option. Unfortunately, that meant listening to him. And it didn't sound like he planned to stop on his own anytime soon.

"… hey, King? C'mon, King. Don'tcha wanna ride yer horse? And I'm so bored … King, are you even listening to me? King? Ki-i-ing!"

Ichigo tuned him out as best he could. Fucking hollow …

A second later he nearly fell off his bed. His badge had gone off as though it was trying to wake the dead. Well, he thought wryly, shinigami are dead.

Strange thoughts aside, Ichigo found he was glad the badge had gone off. Hopefully whatever hollow the thing had sensed would put up a fight—he needed to take his frustration out on something. He carefully avoided thinking about how he usually handled this situation.

Moments later, he was bounding across the skies of Karakura, following the feel of the hollow's reiatsu.

Though the hollow was weak, fighting it at least took the edge off Ichigo's tension. When he leapt back in through his bedroom window, he was finally ready to sleep. The hollow in his mind remained quiescent. Or maybe Ichigo was just getting better at tuning out his harsh voice.

Either way, he slept easily that night.