Tastes Like Strawberries-1
Pairing: Hichigo x Ichigo
Yaoi (maleXmale)- mature content, foul language, some non con and other things. Reviews are welcome and appreciated.
Shirosaki sat surrounded by his cronies in the abandoned building they'd laid claim to. The scattered teenagers eyed their leader nervously. He'd been extremely restless lately, and that was never good for anyone. He was currently upside down in a battered armchair with his legs crossed and propped on the back while his head hung down off the seat cushion, his arms dangling to the floor.
Shirosaki bobbed his head idly to the beat of his favorite band that played in the ear buds trailing from his mp3 player. His eyes were closed and his hair swayed with the movement. He almost seemed to be in another universe, but everyone present knew that could change in an instant. They all tensed as voices were raised in the next room.
Shirosaki opened his eyes and raised a single brow, but he didn't move from his position on the chair. Two guys came in looking like they'd been in a brawl. The larger of the two carried a third person tucked under his arm. The captive was bound hand and foot, but Shirosaki couldn't tell who it was. The hood from his sweatshirt had fallen forward to cover his head. Golden eyes narrowed. They stopped uncertainly before the chair and set the third person carefully on the floor.
"Weren't there four of you when you left earlier?"
There was some shuffling between them. A short jab to the kidneys pushed one out in front of the other. He scowled back at his companion then turned back to their leader. "Sorry boss. Kaguma and Danjo are downstairs getting patched up." These two didn't look too good either. Scrapes and bruises marked every inch of visible skin.
"Never mind that. What the hell is this?" Shirosaki indicated the prone figure with his chin. There was an uncomfortable pause as the unwilling messenger tried to figure out how to word it.
"You said you got tired of hearing about Ichigo Kurosaki and what hot shit he thinks he is."
When he didn't continue, Shirosaki crossed his arms over his chest and his expression darkened. "And?"
"Well. . ." The flustered teen waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the hooded person. The captive stirred, moaning quietly.
"Is that him?" Shirosaki rolled his eyes and huffed and irritated breath. "You're all idiots. I said beat the crap out of him, not bring him back here." The albino eyed Kurosaki sourly. What the hell was he going to do with him? He paused and considered him for a moment. The hood had shifted with his movement and exposed a lock of bright orange hair. He'd heard about the infamous hair color but had never seen it in person.
Rolling backward and twisting as he hit the floor, he knelt in front of Ichigo and slowly pulled the hood back to reveal his face. Warm brown eyes squinted in the sudden brightness. Shirosaki blinked. Holy shit, he was gorgeous. He was in worse shape than the morons that brought him in. But even covered in bruises, he was easily one of the most attractive people he'd ever seen. And there was something eerily familiar about his face. He couldn't really tell why with the wide strip of tape over his mouth. It hit suddenly and his eyes widened. Kurosaki looked just like him. Except for the coloring. And the cuts and bruises from getting his ass handed to him of course.
Shirosaki was staring so fixedly that didn't seem to notice when the two who brought Ichigo in grinned at each other. They knew it had been a gamble bringing Kurosaki back here. It would have been much easier to take him down and leave him where he lay. But they'd all seen the resemblance right away and knew their leader would most likely find him irresistible. They'd been trying desperately to find a way to keep him occupied so he'd stop finding violent and distressing ways to relieve his boredom on his subordinates.
Shirosaki stood, dragging Ichigo with him. The albino tightened his grip as he slumped unconscious in his arms. He must have taken one hell of a beating. Leaning down slightly, he gathered him up in his arms. His head fell back, exposing the long, tanned line of his throat and Shirosaki grinned. God, he was a looker. Those morons were lucky. Let them think they'd distracted him for now. Shooting a glare in their direction, he told them to get off their asses and go get the first aid kit.
Shirosaki carried Ichigo off to his room. He had to fumble a bit to get the door open. Kicking it shut behind him, he set the redhead down on a surprisingly plush bed. The building they were in had once been an office high-rise that had been abandoned during construction. The upper floors were still just frames and supports beams, but the lower sections had been mostly finished. Apparently, ensuing legal battles kept the ownership in question and it lay forgotten for years. Their loss was someone else's gain.
Not everyone who gathered here had a home to go to when the day was over, so they kept an eye on things in return for a place to say. When Shirosaki had taken over a while back, he'd claimed one of the office suites as his own. He'd steadily been collecting things to make it more comfortable. His idiot dad could care less and he like it that way.
Turning his attention back to the unconscious young man on his bed, he brushed a stray lock of hair back from his face. The resemblance between them was startling. He'd never considered himself overly narcissistic before, but he was willing to change his mind about that. He took the first aid kit that was handed to him without looking. The one who brought it opened his mouth to say something, but he thought better of it and retreated quickly.
Pulling out a knife, Shirosaki cut the bindings from Ichigo's wrists and ankles, flipping it quickly back into his pocket when he was done. He peeled the tape from his mouth and was pleased to see the red lips that were revealed. They were slightly swollen, the bottom split and bleeding a little on the left. He went to the bathroom and returned with a bowl and washcloth and started to wipe away the worst of the blood and grime.
The t-shirt and jeans Ichigo wore had seen better days. Pulling off the battered sneakers and socks, Shirosaki proceeded to undress him. Just to check if there were any serious injuries that needed tending. Yeah. Right. He smirked as he pulled the torn shirt off him and exposed his toned chest. No wonder his guys looked like crap. Kurosaki kept in shape. But then he'd have to considering his reputation.
He trailed his fingers over the ridges of muscle, being careful around the rapidly growing bruises. There was a particularly nasty one creeping up the left side of his rib cage. Probing gently, Shirosaki tried to feel if anything was cracked or broken. For the first time ever, he was actually glad that his asshole dad had tried to pass on some of is medical knowledge. Nothing seemed too bad. It was mostly superficial crap. Figured. If he'd really wanted to take him down, he'd should have gone to do it himself. But then he probably wouldn't have this opportunity.
Ichigo moaned quietly in his sleep and turned his head into the pillow. Shirosaki smoothed his hair back away from his forehead. He frowned when he felt the slight heat of a fever. It would be just his luck for the asshole to up and die on him. He had no desire to take him to a hospital. Too many questions and possible police related complications. His dad was willing to turn a blind eye most of the time, but that would probably be pushing it. Ichigo woke slowly. Keeping his eyes closed, he rolled his tongue around in his mouth looking for loose teeth. He sighed in relief when they seemed to be intact. He had no idea why they'd jumped him. But then the idiots who attacked him on a regular basis rarely needed a reason. His hair was usually enough. It probably didn't help that he had a bad habit of mouthing off when they tried to goad him. That usually led to some sort of violence. He was usually pretty good at handling it, but there had been four of them and they'd been really determined.
He opened his eyes looked down to take in his state of undress. At least he wasn't tied up any more. What bothered him now was that most of his clothes seemed to be missing. He still had his jeans on but nothing else. Glaring into the golden eyes that watched him, he demanded an explanation.
"Why am I half naked?" Shirosaki's lips stretched in a lecherous grin that made Ichigo cringe a little. "Never mind." He tried to push himself up, but a pale hand on his chest forced him back onto the bed. Ichigo scowled at its owner. "What the hell do you want?" He winced as the angry question pulled at his split lip.
"I'm just trying to help. You're in pretty sad shape."
"Right. After you had your guys attack me, now you're being all nice?"
"Why do you think I had anything to do with it?" Ichigo raised an irritated brow, but didn't answer the question. "I know who you are. Now what do you want with me?" The creepy grin was back.
"I know you too. Or at least I know of you. Your reputation as a badass precedes you. Couldn't have someone wandering around looking like they were tougher than me. Bad for the image."
"If you know so much about me, you should know I just want to be left alone. Yes, my hair color is natural. No, I don't dye it in some pathetic attempt to make myself look cool by standing out. It shouldn't be a reason for every asshole to try and take a piece out of me."
Shirosaki tangled his fingers gently in the orange locks. "Actually I think it's kind of a turn on."
"What? Get off me."
Shirosaki allowed himself to be pushed back. Ichigo was weak enough that he wasn't going anywhere. "You should get some sleep. You look like you need it." The incredulous look shot in his direction made Shirosaki laugh. "Even if you could get past me, do you think you'd get by everyone else?" Ichigo glared and struggled to sit up. The movement looked like it cost him. His breaths were shorter and pain dulled the angry look in his eyes. "Look, nobody's going to bug you while you're here."
"What about you?" Ichigo was getting a little tired of that grin.
"If you think you'll have trouble restraining yourself from trying to get away, I could do it for you." He wiggled his pale eyebrows up and down suggestively. Ichigo liked that suggestion even less.
"Just let me go and we'll forget any of this happened."
"Now what would be the fun in that?" Shirosaki stretched out on his side, bending his elbow and propping his head on his hand. Ichigo shifted away from him slightly. He could feel the pull of sleep but refused to give in. Being unconscious here seemed like a really bad idea. The albino watched him for a couple minutes then turned to fumble with something on the bedside table. When he turned back, he leaned over and pinned Ichigo down against the mattress.
"What the. . ." Ichigo didn't have time to get away before pale lips sealed over his own. He could feel Shirosaki trying to get into his mouth but he kept it firmly shut. The albino grumbled impatiently against him and reached a hand down. Ichigo let out a muffled gasp as he was grasped through the fabric of his jeans. The invading tongue pushed its way in and uncurled to force a small object down his throat. Ichigo fought not to choke on it. Shirosaki massaged his throat with pale fingers to ease the pill along before he pulled away. Ichigo lay sputtering as it went all the way down. He had no idea what he'd been given and the thought scared him a little. Sleep pulled even harder and he tried to get off of the bed before it took him. Shirosaki held him down easily and nuzzled his ear.
"Calm down. It's just a pain killer with something to help you rest. I don't need to drug you to get what I want." Ichigo wasn't sure what he meant and he was having trouble focusing on the words. The bed was soft and he was swiftly losing the battle as his eyes closed without his permission. Not even the tingle of adrenaline washed panic was enough to fight it. He drifted off with Shirosaki's arms wrapped around him.