A/N: Another set in my personal Bleachverse. Bleach and its characters are not mine, but I'm borrowing Aizen and Gin for a bit.

Nothing dirty, just romantic angst.

For newcomers to my Bleachverse: sometime before the Hinamori/Kira/Renji/Shuuhei event, Aizen gave Gin a special gift that allows them to communicate telepathically. What, you think the gazes they give each other are just smoldering looks of desire?

Aizen Sousuke put on his haori – he would not be wearing it for much longer. There was a faint knock on the door. He turned and smiled at his silver-haired visitor.

"Come in, Gin," said the brown-haired captain. Ichimaru Gin sauntered in and pecked his lover on the cheek. Aizen tucked another package into the pocket of his uniform. "Shall we?"

Gin slipped his hand into Aizen's. They heard a soft sigh on the futon behind and turned together to observe the slender girl sleeping soundly. Gin chuckled and nuzzled the older shinigami. 'She's cute when she's sleeping,' he thought to Aizen, not wanting to wake the girl up.

'Hinamori's always cute,' returned Aizen nonchalantly. He ran through the checklist in his head again – toothbrush, toothpaste, the master key to Las Noches and its rooms, a pair of cuffs they forgot to send over, his reading journal, contact lens case...

Gin wandered over to study the face in repose. Fair skin and pink lips, dark lashes long and curled. Truly a miniature beauty.

'Is she tired or did you finally take her virtue?' Gin asked, bending to peer into that face. His nails itched; if not for the fact she had to be the first, he would have given in to the urge. She would look so much better with four parallel streaks across that fair skin...

Aizen came over and gently pulled Gin to his feet. 'I have no interest in children, Gin. Not when I have far more... satisfying partners. Shall we go?'

They exited, silent as shadows. Gin led the way while Aizen scanned the surrounds to ensure no one saw them.

"Y'know, if it were my division on duty I'd sack the lot of them," murmured Gin, his voice carrying in the stillness of the night. "No one at all."

Certain of their solitude, Aizen caught up to his true lieutenant and slid an arm about his waist. "The ryoka has got them flustered. But I agree; this is sloppy security detail. We should write a complaint letter."

"Still, all the better for us, hmm?"

"It lacks challenge, I suppose," said Aizen softly. "Where did you have in mind?"

Gin pressed closer to the broad torso beside him. How he had missed that warmth – Kira was sweet and devoted enough, but Gin much preferred his captain's demanding tenderness and unpredictable affection. "The Eastern wall. That would be the shortest route when she wakes up late."

"You think of everything." Aizen kissed Gin on the temple as they strolled to the spot. He peered upwards, a faint frown as he calculated the height. Gin walked away and locked his fingers behind him, alert to the presence of others.

"Kind of high," Aizen said casually.

Gin shrugged. "You wanted to make an impact."

"Ah well." Aizen leaped up and found an ideal spot. "How's the angle from below?"

Gin stepped back. "A little more to the left, no your other left – what? – and just two feet higher. Yep. Great."

The fifth division unsheathed his sword and stabbed it into the wall. Gently he drifted down and joined Gin. "Let's see how it goes. Kudakero, Kyoka Suigetsu."

The stream of red flowed and stopped before his slitted eyes. Gin looked up, following the trail, and caught his breath. He blinked, and then blinked again, and swallowed. It's an illusion. It's an illusion. It's an illusion.

Aizen scowled at the body impaled to the wall. He scoffed lightly. "You know, sometimes I think my sword doesn't like me. Kyoka Suigetsu, I don't want to be drooling. And keep the glasses on straight. Yes, much better. And no, my uniform should be intact, not ripped to pieces. Hands relaxed, please. Eyes a little more vacant... good. And hair mussed, not a bird's nest." He paused after telling his sword to make the adjustments. "Excellent. What do you think, Gin?"

The silver-haired captain was having difficulty breathing. He stared at the faux corpse above, his gaze almost as glassy as the dead body up the wall.

"Aizen-sama... I-I can't..." He backed a few steps and collided with a warm body. "I-I ca-can't. You-you're not- I can't do this. I can't do this. I-I can't, gods."

"Gin, Gin. It's okay, Gin, I'm here, I'm here." Aizen wrapped his arm about Gin's shaking shoulders. The slender man was trembling violently, his entire body rejecting the illusion presented before him. He was almost retching. Aizen murmured softly, insistently, "Shhh, it's okay, it's alright, I'm here, I'm still alive, I'm here with you. Easy, easy, love."

"No," breathed Gin, gaze fixed upon the macabre scene above. "No, no, no, no. I don't want this, I don't want this I can't do this I don't I don't no no no I can't..."

"You can, you can, Gin, love, shh, relax, relax, it's just an illusion..." Aizen reinforced the message telepathically, trying to ease the spasms racking through his lover's body. "Gin!"

"... I can't do this, I can't," the younger captain pleaded quietly, fingers digging into the arms supporting him. He was trying to breathe, large gasps that left him nearly gagging. "I can't just walk here with a smile, I can't just - How am I supposed to act like I did this? How can I? How can I?"

Rocking his lover slowly, Aizen pressed faint kisses over Gin's tears. "It's alright lover, we'll find another way. Shh. We can find another way. Let's get to the 46."

Helping Gin to his feet, the two walked and then sprinted to their hideout. Tousen was there, waiting. He pulled his captain's robe closer. "How did it go?"

"Everything went according to plan and on schedule. We'll take over from here, thank you," said Aizen, still holding Gin's waist.

"Ichimaru-taichou, are you staying here as well?" asked Tousen. "You do have to be up early."

"I'll make sure he goes back in time, thank you," said Aizen smoothly. Tousen must have heard that warning note, and left without further questions.

The sickly sweet stench of blood and rot seemed to have calmed Gin down. They found their way to their selected room and Gin folded himself into a chair. Aizen cupped the thin, pale face and gazed into the narrow eyes. Gin managed a smile despite the puffiness around his eyes and lips.

"Are you feeling better now?" said Aizen.

Gin nodded and sniffed. "Sorry about that. Didn't think I'd break down that completely.. what a disgrace."

"You're no disgrace, Gin. You are my pride, you are the only one I trust with this scene. It was just too much of a shock." Aizen kissed Gin tenderly. "I know you will manage admirably."

Gin grinned shakily. "It's just – seeing you, dead, I didn't think... I couldn't accept, I can't accept that."

"But I'm not dead," said Aizen with a gentle grin. "See? Right here."

"I know, but your zanpakuto has that nasty ability to convince people otherwise." Gin wrapped his arms around Aizen's neck and pressed in to inhale the familiar musk. "I hate it."

Aizen pulled Gin close, knowing that his chosen was trying to overcome the effects of grief and shock through sheer willpower. It wasn't easy denying the evidence of your eyes and other senses, and Kyoka Suigetsu was always thorough in little details. Even the spatter and smell of blood was genuine enough to turn Aizen's stomach.

Gin kissed Aizen on his neck, on his jaw, and soon little nips and licks followed. Aizen smiled and followed the curve of the slender neck down to the fair shoulder. Unhurried hands divested Gin of his clothes, not heeding the sniffs and soft whines. The muscled shoulders shifted; Aizen guided them to the bed.

"Aizen-sama..." whispered Gin, fingers tracing the face above him. "You're really here, right?"

"Yes." Firm kisses that ravaged his mouth, drawing out every taste and flavor present. "I'm here. I'm here, with you, right now. I am with you, wherever we are."

Gin sniffed again. "I love you, Aizen-sama."

"I know," murmured Aizen into Gin's neck. "Show me how."


After he had dressed and washed, and peeked in at the sleeping Kira, Gin walked purposefully back to the wall. The scent of blood wafted into the air, Gin's sensitive nose picking out the faint coppery tang.

"This isn't real," he whispered to no one, and forced down the tears until there was no more of that familiar nausea and pressure at the back of his throat. "This isn't real, not at all."

The face, the form, the blood... "Not real," Gin insisted, aware that his mind and his heart denied his words. Perhaps he was wrong: this was real – Aizen-taichou was murdered. But Aizen-sama was still there, still alive, still real. The tight band across his ribs loosened. This was something he could accept.

Aizen-taichou is dead, Aizen-sama is alive.

Now that he looked up, it didn't matter as much. Just another dead body, and he had seen many of those. "Flower on the precipice indeed."

His acute time sense prickled. It was nearing four a.m. Perhaps Kira would be amenable to an early morning romp. He could always hope... or he could wake Kira up his own way. It would surprise Kira, and it would elicit certain... responses.

Now that sounds fun, he thought, and sauntered back to his lieutenant's room, humming all the way.