*rolls around happily* Oh oh oh! Such a wonderful response you have given~! Please enjoy this second half to My King's Dreams. Hopefully, this satisfies you, delightful reviewers. Finally managed to finish this… thought I would turn 25 million years old before that would happen ;_; Nyaknyaknyak. Check out the poll on my profile? :D Gee, thanks.

Still don't own anything, but at least I can pretend! I do pretty well!


"I'm never offerin' my services again, man," Kon nursed his body that would be bruised and bleeding if it had blood and skin tissues in it. "This is what I get for helpin' a guy out?" He stopped himself this time, not wanting to add to his painful collection of injuries. Heaven forbid he was going to ruin this body while he was in it.

In the midst of the sweating and determined stuttering, Ichigo was hustling to find a place to hide the loud stuffed animal squished under his socked foot. Tiny fists tried to beat at his clothed arch, but the teenager just stepped harder.

"I'm just tryin' ta get you in the mood!"

"Mood my ASS! You need me to tie you up and hide you in the bathroom?" He ground his foot into the soft body, effectively smothering it into the floor. Kon's face was creating a small crater, and he gasped in breaths like a fish out of water.

"NO! Please, anywhere but there!" The wheezing lion was almost in angry tears. Ichigo tore off a piece of duct tape evilly, looking down at the quivering mod-soul. He held the silver strip of terror menacingly towards Kon. He successfully crippled the creature, tying his hands and feet together despite the violent thrashing. A tiny piece was covering his furry mouth, shutting him up. Picking him up to look into pleading black eyes, the carrot top frowned as he slid open his window.

The cool night air tickled his cheek with a teasing gust, ruffling the mane of the horrified plushie.

"Out you go," Ichigo muttered, and chucked him out of the window into his neighbor's garden.

"MMMM-" The muffled yell was cut off when Kon fell into a prickly bush, ending with a painful grunt. The twigs cracked underneath his slithering form, and he rolled to the ground with a soft thump. The window locked happily as it clicked closed.

Alone at last, the darkness gripped the copper-haired man's ankles, freezing him where he stood. The jittery feeling slid up to clutch his thighs, shaking his stomach wickedly. He managed to grasp part of his blanket to wrap around himself, but it didn't help his shuddering.

Anticipation was kick-starting his heart, making him ache everywhere. Even his wrists were in agony, imagining how they would bend to hold and caress the old man. His lips were dry, and his desperate tongue tried fruitlessly to moisten them as he knelt by his bed. The cool fabric of the comforter soothed his steaming forehead, and his eyes shut to try and banish the thoughts flitting through his tired brain.

He was ready for sleep to come, but at the same time… he almost dreaded what he knew would follow. Had he done the right thing by turning to literature? Maybe a movie or two would have been more effective… but what he had read was quite passionate. His faith in the books soared when he looked over his shoulder at one of them. Ichigo wrapped a tan hand around the spine, drawing the novel to his chest to press it against his raging heart. His thumb ran over the pages, causing them to purr when they slapped against each other.

The oranget knew his sword was watching his every movement. Raising his head from where it rested on the blanket, he again looked over his shoulder at the reclining Zanpakuto. The handle glimmered in the moonlight, teasing his memories of their previous, clumsy nights spent together.

He stood, clad in only pajama pants, and tore the blanket up to hide his twitching body underneath. The teen rolled onto the bed, wrapping him effectively in the soft shell. Now horizontal, Ichigo rested his head against the plain pillow and proceeded to stare directly at the mysterious sword. His eyelids, heavy with sleep, covered his brown eyes. Although excited, his lungs forced themselves to relax into slow, steady breaths.

The wasteland he had become familiar with recently was different. Instead of a harsh brightness, only the light of a fake moon illuminated the barren landscape. The occasional warm breeze ruffled his hair, and he admired the large, round disk in the sky with glimmering craters. There were no fake stars to accompany the large moon, but it seemed to suffice the balance between sky and land by itself.

Ichigo noticed Zangetsu right away, simply because he was the spot of black in a sea of greys and whites.

"Ou-sama, why didn't you wait a bit longer?" His dreary tone wasn't what the teen expected.

"What do you mean, old man?" Stepping towards the seated Zanpakuto, he ran a hand through his orange locks. He kept walking until they were nearly face to face, and the older man turned his head away.

"You aren't ready yet," he muttered, glancing from the corner of his eye. Ichigo bit his cheek. After a whole day of reading and talking with that annoying lion… he wasn't ready? After he had spent gut-wrenching minutes convincing himself that he was?

Apparently the older man had other ideas, and Ichigo sat up from his crumpled pillow. His pupils dilated to accustom to the darkness of his room, and he landed a single blow with his fist into the mattress. He had just been ejected out of his own dreams. Rejected and cast out of his space… it wasn't a pleasant feeling, and he glared at the motionless sword.

To no surprise, nothing happened. No explosions, no magical glowing of objects; nothing happened. At least, not for the moments he spent staring viciously at the Zanpakuto.

"I AM ready, dammit," his hoarse whisper cut through the otherwise silent night. Sweaty fingers curled around the blanket, and he screwed his eyes shut angrily before gritting his teeth. What had he done wrong? Why couldn't he please… himself?

Was that the problem? His inner self wasn't happy with how things were going on the outside. Ichigo flopped back onto his abused bed, looking through the ceiling in a daze.

"I told you, it's useless, Ichigo," the deep voice drifted to him as warm hands cupped his shoulders. The normally warm gesture instead felt distant as the mop of dark hair covered the sullen face.

"It's not," he replied with equal determination, standing closer to the man. His hands came up to frame the unshaven face. One of them hovered over the bangs, with long fingers pushing the hair back to reveal the deep eyes.

"Prove it," Zangetsu challenged, the whisper fluttering down Ichigo's neck. A dry laugh escaped the teen's lips before he tugged the older man down. When their lips met, a tiny flash of pain stabbed into the back of his head, where a rough hand was pulling on his hair. The other hand imitated the movement, pressing their lips together. A dark form looming before him, Ichigo growled lightly as he prodded the lips with his tongue.

Like his book had instructed, the lips parted and the small gasp of an open kiss echoed in the barren area. His hesitation allowed Zangetsu to press further into him and take hold of their osculation. Sharp stubble poked into Ichigo's soft chin as the Zanpakuto tasted the tops of his molars. One of the hands found its way to the small of the teen's back, dipping him slightly back.

Still dazzled from the contact, it took a few seconds for the copper-haired boy to bend into Zangetsu's body and grab his shoulder blades tightly. His nose grazed the dry cheek of the taller male, and he opened his eyes slightly. Before he could take control of the kiss, the hot mouth pulled away, a thin string of saliva connecting their lips. It shimmered in the moonlight, but broke as Zangetsu swiftly bent down to kiss Ichigo's Adam's apple. A heavy moan vibrated the youth's chest, causing him to drag the dark cloak down. His fingers moved like clockwork to caress the revealed tan skin, intensity of the moment growing exponentially.

Teeth nibbled experimentally on his collarbone, and Ichigo was panting as Zangetsu began to roam the teen's bare abdomen with a few light touches. A tiny lick slid under the flesh, mouth moving slowly south. Kneeling now, the older man had one hand on the soft curve of Ichigo's butt and the other behind his calf, holding him in place as he kissed the hipbone of his master. A small squeak rang from the oranget's lips when Zangetsu pulled away entirely.



"That's all the novel went over, Ichigo," he stated, placing his hands on his lap as he looked up at the bewildered teenager. "That old man only gave you softcore, and nothing too detailed."

"Come on, Zangetsu," Ichigo snorted angrily, grabbing a handful of dark hair and twisting down to kiss the man roughly. "This is where fiction ends and instinct takes over." Large hands went up to hold him from the ribcage. Thin fingers raked across the valleys between the ribs, sending shivers up Ichigo's spine. In return, he planted himself on the older man's lap, holding him firmly between the ground and the eager teen.

Zangetsu bit his lip harshly, gaining entrance once again as his hands traveled up and down the pale back. Their tongues were caught in another small war of dominance as Ichigo lapped at every inch of the man's mouth. The orange-haired teen had his hands, stiff as shackles, grip the hips below him as close as possible. Ending the heated kiss, Ichigo moved his lips to suck on the skin of his sword's earlobe, grasping the soft cartilage with his teeth gently. Calloused hands were massaging his chest, gaining soft hums from both of them.

The older man's nose was pressed against neck, sending little puffs of warm air down to tickle his chest with every exhale. The stubble was poking into his shoulder as he licked teasingly at Zangetsu's throat.

"Ou-sama," the groan from below him snapped open his brown eyes, lit up with lust. Ichigo hummed in response, encouraging him to speak while he was feasting. His pale lips moved to the strained muscle on Zangetsu's shoulder, feeling the tendons stretch with every reply of the excited body.

"Ichigo," there was an accent on the last syllable that was driving him mad, making him bite down.

"Yes," he kissed the tender spot before locking eyes. "Zangetsu?" Hands on his chest pulled away.


"What is it?"

"Iiiichigooooo," the deep moan that had once excited him went up an octave. Ichigo pulled away, looking the man up and down in confusion.

"Hey, old man…"

"ICHIGO!" Rukia pounced on the copper-haired teen, causing him to choke and begin coughing wickedly. Brown eyes filled with confusion and anger as they looked at the excited girl.

"Ichigo," she said again, climbing off of him and smoothing out her pretty sundress. "How could you do this to Kon?"

She held up the lion, which was now coated in leaves and mud, and looked very less than pleased.


"I said," Rukia repeated, frowning and shaking the lion back and forth. "How… could you do this to KON?" It was followed by a whack on the head with the empty stuffed animal body.

"You left him outside, and now the mod-soul pill is missing!"

At this, Ichigo jumped out of bed, almost slipping on the fallen pillow. The short Kuchiki glared at him viciously, prepared to beat him over the head again. He snatched at the shirt he had abandoned the night before, shaking it out a few times before turning it right side out. The girl sighed, holding Kon's body with both small hands and attempting to brush off more dirt.

"Let's go get him, then," he grunted quickly, pulling the shirt on as he dashed down the stairs. "I'm missing out on precious sleep, Rukia!"


Oh god, I'm really sick. Bodily fluids are just gushing out everywhere, and I have crazy headache and sore throat. Coughing up half my body weight in mucus. Urgh, frickin' miserable. On to write more and more. Wish me luck~ *sneezes all over laptop*

God, shitty ending. Review if you're crazy!