My apologies for taking so long to give you chapter 8. I have a legitimate excuse, I swear - such as my arm currently being in a cast. Apparently when I dislocate a thumb, I do it right. Yes, I had general anaesthetic, a half-cast and a sling, all for one unusually dislocated thumb plus the ligament I managed to tear in my hand. This is a testament to my skill at injuring myself.

Not only do I have to keep the bloody cast on for three weeks, I can't work for those three weeks (due to crappy insurance crap), and I also can't train.

Done with my rant for today. There is hot sex in this chapter. Enjoy.

Oh, and…I was going to just tell everyone who's reading what it is, but I decided that'd be boring. This story is thematically based around a movie I've seen, and a pretty dark one at that. Virtual cookies to anyone who can guess what it is.

And Angry Face for Aizen getting pwned in the anime. This is neither fair nor right. Once upon a time I would have been cheering Urahara for being winzorz, but…now I'm just mad at him for being mean to my Kami.

Dancing Lessons

Chapter 8


Ichigo's breath caught in his throat. His hands felt hot. He looked down, lifted one hand and saw that his fingers were shaking. There was a lump in his throat, and he tried hard to swallow it down.

Aizen paused on the stairs above him. 'Is something wrong? You look pale.'

Ichigo shook his head, and managed to speak. 'N-no. Nothing.'

Aizen turned, seemingly satisfied, and kept walking. Ichigo tried not to stare at the way the older man's dark pants clung to his long legs, and knew he was doing it anyway. He was just as bad as the countless girls in the school who'd all fallen for Aizen -

They reached a wooden door which looked startlingly familiar to Ichigo. After all, he'd been up here more than once. Although he got decent grades most of the time, he wasn't exactly a model student.

'Hey,' he said. 'Isn't this -'

'Kurotsuchi Mayuri-san's office?' Aizen finished. 'He was kind enough to allow me the use of it until he returns to his post.' He unlocked the door, gesturing for Ichigo to enter.

Ichigo did so, swallowing with apprehension. The interior certainly looked vastly different from the other times he'd been summoned here. When Kurotsuchi had been in residence, the desk had been strewn with used coffee cups, some of which were already beginning to develop exotic-looking miniature ecosystems consisting entirely of different species of mould.

The coffee cups were gone, as was the fish tank housing an assortment of snails that Kurotsuchi had kept in the corner of the room. The curtains were drawn halfway, the office well-lit. The desk had been cleared to reveal the original polished wood beneath several years' worth of coffee rings and other detritus, now bearing nothing save a notepad and fountain pen. Behind the desk was a red armchair upholstered in something which looked like - but couldn't possibly be - velvet. A similar chair was opposite Aizen's, on the other side of his desk.

Aizen saw Ichigo's face and his full lips curved in a smile. 'I took the liberty of bringing my own furniture,' he explained. 'I can assure you that Kurotsuchi-san does not mind. Please sit.'

Ichigo did so, feeling his body sink into the chair. Aizen himself made no motion to sit down, instead standing a metre or so away from Ichigo. 'May I offer you a drink?' his teacher asked. 'Tea, perhaps?'

Ichigo shook his head. 'Thanks, but I'm fine.'

Aizen nodded, taking a step closer. Again, Ichigo's eyes were drawn to the man's lips, his throat above the collar of his shirt. He felt himself blush and begin to stammer. 'So - I can take a makeup exam if I fail, right?' he asked.

Aizen smiled. 'Indeed you can, provided Principal Yamamoto gives consent. I'd be more than willing to help you study for it if necessary.'

Ichigo nodded in response, his throat dry. 'And when would I take the exam?' he asked.

'Ordinarily, we choose a date outside of the school calendar, so as not to interfere with normal examinations.'

Ichigo winced at that. He didn't like the idea of taking an exam during the holidays.

'I guess if that's what I need to do to pass -' he said, shrugging.

'Oh, I think you'll do better in my class than merely scraping a pass grade, Ichigo.' Aizen smiled again. Ichigo couldn't look away from his teacher's mouth, couldn't stop himself noticing the tip of Aizen's tongue slowly tracing over that full lower lip.

Part of him felt relieved, knowing he definitely wasn't imagining it. It was only a very small part. The rest of him was in horrified denial. The rest of him insisted that he had to leave now before he embarrassed himself, that he should go back down to Orihime and Keigo and Mizuiro and Tatsuki and Ishida, even if it meant listening to that geek brag about how easy the test had been.

'Is there anything else you wish to discuss with me, Ichigo?' Aizen asked, his voice darkened with a trace of huskiness.

Numbly, robotically almost, Ichigo shook his head, no.

'Oh?' Aizen's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. 'Nothing at all?' He smirked. 'Not even, perhaps, the reason you've been so distracted in class to begin with?' His hand rested on Ichigo's shoulder. A surge of heat went through Ichigo, and he groaned in the back of his throat, feeling how painfully hard he was at that small, simple gesture.

'No,' he managed to say, despite all that.

Aizen's eyes left Ichigo's face, travelling slowly and deliberately down his body, finishing in his lap. The older man raised an eyebrow, lips curved in a slight amused smile. Ichigo looked down, saw the evidence of his arousal through his pants, and blushed to the roots of his hair.

Aizen turned away, slowly and leisurely moving to the other side of the desk. He sat, hands folded under his chin, almost as if in a challenge. 'Not even,' he continued, his voice polite and soft, 'where you were last Saturday night? You certainly weren't in your home.'

Ichigo stared at his teacher, shame and horror and desire all coursing flush through his veins. He'd known all along, he supposed, but chosen to lie to himself. He'd even managed to convince himself - if only partially - that it had all been a dream, a treacherous dream but a dream nonetheless, that he hadn't really betrayed his girlfriend by sleeping with someone else.

But no, it had been real. It had all been real. He had let Aizen take him. He had enjoyed it more than anything he'd ever experienced before in his life -

- and he discovered, feeling revulsion towards himself, that he wanted more.

Aizen's eyes were simultaneously bright and dark with lust. Ichigo leaned across the desk, felt himself falling into those eyes -

- and felt Aizen's lips meet his own.

He hadn't remembered how different it was to kiss a man. Aizen smelt so different to Orihime. Ichigo's fingers tangled of their own accord into Aizen's thick wavy hair, feeling Aizen's hand move to the back of his neck. Then that pressure was gone, and his teacher was moving away.

Ichigo heard a disappointed whimper escape his lips. His erection was as painful as ever, and Aizen seemed to notice - no, enjoy - his discomfort as he moved out from behind the desk. He took Ichigo into his arms as if he were comforting a child, patting and stroking the younger man's hair.

'This is very inappropriate, isn't it?' he whispered. 'You must be feeling so torn. After all, you have a young woman - and quite a lovely young woman, if I might add - who clearly cares very deeply for you.'

Ichigo felt the guilt course through him at that.

'Of course,' Aizen continued, a barely hidden dark chuckle in his voice, 'I wouldn't presume to act against your moral conscience.' He spoke the last two words with a mocking lilt. 'You are free to walk away if you should so choose.'

Ichigo shuddered, his body overruling his mind. He could feel Aizen's arousal through his pants, pressing against Ichigo's own again, and he moaned, running his hands up the older man's back through the thin white shirt.

Aizen laughed. 'I thought as much. We are alike, Ichigo.' He kissed Ichigo's forehead with a smile. 'I, too, have never felt the need to ignore my own desires at the cost of morality.'

Then his mouth claimed Ichigo's again, tongue slipping past Ichigo's lips and roughly exploring the inside of his mouth. Aizen's hands encircled Ichigo's body, moving over his chest and ribs and stomach before finally - finally - moving down lower to move long fingers in expert strokes over Ichigo's erection through his school pants.

Ichigo's own hands were struggling to undo the older man's shirt, his fingers clumsy again when he tried to navigate the buttons. Aizen's right hand stopped what it was doing between his legs and caught Ichigo's own by the wrist, pulling it away. 'Please,' his teacher said, smiling down at the younger man and unfastening the button at his throat deftly. 'Allow me.'

Ichigo was more than happy to. He watched as Aizen slipped his shirt off, a pleased smile curving the older man's lush lips at the sigh escaping his student. Ichigo stared with fascinated perverse desire at Aizen's sculpted body, more developed than his own. Aizen unfastened his pants, letting them fall to the floor, and smiled that benign teacherly smile at Ichigo. 'Would you be so kind?' he asked.

Ichigo slowly got to his knees in front of the other man. He couldn't help but be curious - he kissed Aizen's neck as he sank to the floor, then moved to his nipples, kissing and licking them until he heard Aizen's answering sigh of pleasure. He kissed a line down Aizen's abdomen, pausing to pay special attention to his navel.

Aizen laughed. 'As much as I'm enjoying this,' he said, 'bear in mind your free period only lasts for an hour, Ichigo. I don't intend to spoil you by writing you late passes on a regular basis.'

Ichigo only half-heard most of it. He stroked Aizen's erection, tangling his fingers in curling brown hair, closing his mouth around his teacher's length.

His own arousal ached as he sucked, hearing Aizen's sighs, feeling Aizen's hips jerk forward so that he filled Ichigo's mouth and intruded on the back of his throat.

Why was he so turned on? Ichigo didn't know and - quite frankly - didn't give a damn. A warm hand stroked and petted the back of his head, as if to reward him.

Finally Aizen came hot into his mouth, and Ichigo almost choked, making a noise of discomfort. 'Shh,' his teacher soothed, stroking the back of his neck gently. 'Swallow for me, Ichigo.'

Ichigo half-spluttered and obeyed. There was even something intensely arousing about doing this - of all things - for Aizen, and he gasped when he was finished, his mouth falling away. He collapsed in front of the other man, breathing heavily, still on his knees.

'Now, now, Ichigo. I'm not finished with you yet.' Aizen laughed, his hands on Ichigo's shoulders, clasping them through his shirt. 'Please, undress.'

Ichigo did so, slowly, clumsily, feeling self-conscious about his body again. He stood there in his boxers in front of his teacher, shivering just a little. Aizen raised an eyebrow, eyes lingering pointedly below Ichigo's hips, and Ichigo blushed. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of the boxers, letting them fall around his ankles on the floor.

Aizen smirked, drawing off his glasses. 'Good boy,' he murmured. 'Now, on the desk.' He gestured.

Ichigo felt himself flush again as he glanced between Aizen's legs, noticing that the older man was aroused again already. He lay down on the desk on his back, feeling the pressure of the hard surface against his spine.

Aizen made a noise of disapproval. 'No. Stand.' Ichigo obeyed, feeling confused. His teacher smiled wickedly at the expression on his face. 'Turn,' he ordered. 'Bend over.'

Hot desire flushed through Ichigo at that, desire and guilt and shyness. Nevertheless, he did it. He turned, bending his body over the desk, heard Aizen move around him, opening a drawer.

Suddenly he felt impossibly impatient. What the hell was his teacher doing? Why was Aizen prolonging it? He wanted Aizen inside him, now, damn it -

A whimper escaped his throat, a sharp whine of denied lust.

Aizen chuckled. 'You want me so badly,' he murmured. 'But I must keep you waiting for a few moments longer, Ichigo. I doubt you'd enjoy this as much if I took you without preparing myself first.' The drawer was closed again, the heavy thud of something being put back inside.

Then Aizen's body was against his back, warm and firm and strong, Aizen's arousal slick and pushing hard into him, and Aizen's long fingers moving past his right hip to stroke and tease Ichigo's own frustrated aching erection -

Ichigo whimpered again, a whimper which turned into a stifled half-cry of pleasured delight as he felt how slippery Aizen's fingers were, the way they were stroking him gently, almost tenderly, and gradually moving faster. Aizen laughed into the back of his neck and thrust harder.

There was a twinge of pain at that, but Ichigo was forced to ignore it. Aizen thrust even deeper into him, hitting something inside him that made Ichigo arch his back and grip the desk and cry out -

Aizen's spare hand covered Ichigo's mouth at the last second before he hit orgasm, forcing the younger man's scream back inside him. Ichigo fell against the desk, shuddering in the wake of the pleasure he'd just experienced, guilt absent for the moment.

'Please pardon me,' he said. 'I cannot allow you to - shall we say, express yourself fully - in here.' Ichigo heard the older man's laughter as he began dressing himself again. 'However -' Aizen paused, and Ichigo stood, looking into his eyes, trembling slightly at the repressed, only partially sated, desire he saw there.

'I'm sure you remember where I live,' his teacher continued. 'And I give you full permission to scream my name to your heart's content in the privacy of my bedroom.' He cupped Ichigo's chin in his hand, kissing the younger man on the lips. He pulled away after only a moment, wickedness dancing in his eyes again.

'That is, of course,' he said, 'assuming you wish to be my lover.'

Ichigo could only nod, numbly and unquestioningly. Aizen laughed in the back of his throat. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a class to go to,' he said, doing up the last few buttons on his shirt. 'Oh, and Ichigo -'

His teacher stopped in front of the door, about to leave. 'Do clean that up before you go,' he added, looking at the desk. 'With your tongue, if you please.'

Ichigo could only stare blankly at the smirk curling Aizen's full lips as the older man opened the door, exiting the room.

'I'm certain I'll be seeing you tonight, Ichigo,' Aizen concluded, as if they really had just finished a polite, completely above-board discussion regarding chemistry grades.

Ichigo was left alone in what had been Kurotsuchi Mayuri's office, waiting for the guilt to set in, waiting for the exhaustion to leave him.

It didn't. He looked up at the clock on the wall, saw that he had less than ten minutes left before he had to be in class, and began, rather slowly, to dress.

I figured Aizen deserved some hot sex, since the canon isn't treating him very nicely at the moment. Damn that Urahara Kisuke.

Funnily enough: I used to hate the idea of Aizen and Urahara as a pairing, but I think I might possibly be converted by this awesomely talented girl on deviantART. Go to .net to see her stuff. ( deleted the first part of that link, but if you type in the rest it should work.) She does Aizen beautifully, and she has some very sexy, very pervy pictures of Aizen and Urahara. They involve Aizen's bondage outfit. (For anyone who's underage and reading this - it's okay to look, there's nothing explicit there.) So you should check out her gallery if you like that pairing - and even if you don't.

Unlike her gallery, my fanfic is full of naughty explicit things. Lol, my parents recently found out about my Facebook account, and my mum's added me as a friend. I am so screwed if they find my account and read this story. Well, not screwed, just stranded permanently in Awkward-land. I imagine it would be akin to how fourteen-year-old boys feel when their mothers discover their porn collections.

And…I just compared my fanfiction archive to a fourteen-year-old's porn collection. Come to think of it, it kind of is…except it belongs to an eighteen-year-old girl. An eighteen-year-old girl who has an Aizen fetish. An eighteen-year-old girl with an Aizen yaoi fetish.

Oh dear.

Anyway, goodbye, love from Kelsey, and I hope you enjoyed all the naughty yaoi sex in this chapter.

Probably more in the next. I'm such a perv.

Oh, I totally forgot to mention it, but I have pervy fanfiction of my pervy fanfiction! The lovely Sariniste wrote an alternative version of my chapter 6, which is far, far sexier than my chapter 6, and much darker too. Go to her profile and check it out. Much smex, definitely, but also very much NSFW. Like this one, actually.