Chapter Thirteen: Only You
Ichigo was tired, irritable and extremely hungry.
The meeting had dragged on for hours as people voiced their concerns and their arguments, his temper had frayed repeatedly as they continued to insist upon discussing his own condition, and the fact that he carried Aizen's heir. Once or twice it had been suggested that they kill the child before anyone from the Incubus Clan discovered its existence, but their idea had been stamped out with a low menacing growl from Stark.
He was very glad that the brunette werewolf was still on his side, he knew many people would have doubted him after learning about the conceiving of another man's child. But Stark seemed to blame Aizen for it, and Aizen alone; in fact he didn't seem to care at all that Ichigo had slept with someone else because he knew that Ichigo would never cheat on him knowingly. Aizen had deceived him and Ichigo hadn't known anything about it or the consequences.
If anything it had strengthened their relationship.
As Ichigo sat in the rim of the large bay window in their bedroom in the Werewolf Estate, he considered how tender Stark was around him; never once had they simply had sex, in his eyes it felt like they had always made love as a matter of fact. Maybe that was just the kind of being Stark was, tender; loving; gentle... How odd to suggest such characteristics about a man he had just learned to be a mythical creature of darkness.
Looking around as the bedroom door opened, the ginger smiled warmly as the object of his thoughts entered the room, carrying two trays of steaming hot food and a pot of tea.
"Are you alright?" Stark asked as he set one of the trays in front of Ichigo, he knelt down in front of his loved one and rested his hand on the other's knee.
"Yeah, just thinking." The ginger replied, taking his hand and squeezing gently.
"Oh? Anything interesting?"
Blushing faintly and letting out a slightly girlish titter, he responded in a mumble, "Just you."
"Ah, I should have guessed," the brunette winked, "Only good thoughts I hope."
"Of course, I don't know anything that could be considered bad about you." He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips before he sat back and eyed the bowl of scalding soup in front of him.
Stark smiled at the compliment and he stood up, pulling over a chair and a small table for them to lean on. He sat down and lifted a spoonful of his own soup to his lips; taking his lead, Ichigo tucked into his food as well, breaking up pieces of a buttered roll he had also been bought, he dunked the bread into the steaming liquid and let out a low moan of delight as the food was devoured.
They ate in silence for a while, before Ichigo finally broke it, "Stark... When the cubs are born... Are you going to be able to love the Incubus cub?"
The brunette paused and stared at him in surprise, "Is that what has been troubling you? You think I would abandon one of the cubs because it is not genetically mine?"
"It's just... At the meeting... So many people suggested killing it..."
"I would never let them do that." Stark interrupted, "As far as I am concerned these cubs are mine. It doesn't matter to me that Aizen is the biological father to one of them because I know I can do a better job as a parent than he could if he had a hundred years to get it right."
Ichigo swallowed and licked his lips, "I... I believe you." He smiled weakly.
"No more worrying?"
"No more worrying. I promise." The ginger said with a sheepish expression.
"Good." Stark leaned in and kissed his forehead gently before returning to his soup.
Stark's smoky blue eyed narrowed ever so slightly, he was going to give the people who had been in the bloody meeting a piece of his mind when he had a chance, for worrying his lover like that.
After finishing their food, Stark took the trays and dumped them on a table near the door before he took Ichigo's hands and pulled his lover to his feet; he wrapped his arms around him tightly and buried his face in his spiky locks of orange hair. Ichigo was uncertain if Stark was alright or not, stood and pulled him into an embrace of his own, tipping his head to the side slightly and kissing his neck where the man's jugular was.
Stark trembled at the pleasant zing which tickled his skin at Ichigo's touch, he smiled faintly and looked down at the orange haired beauty. He leaned down and captured his lips with his own, meshing them together in a deep and passionate kiss. Ichigo let out a soft moan in response to the kiss, his hands cupping Stark's face gently as he returned it.
The pair stumbled in the direction of the bed, shamelessly tugging at each other's clothes until they were scattered and their forms nude in the dimming light of day as the sun set and could be seen dipping lower over the horizon through the bay windows.
Ichigo let forth a giggle as he was half thrown onto the bed, followed swiftly by Stark as he crawled over him and pressed their most intimate areas together, rocking his hips in a teasing motion until they were both flustered and aroused.
They met with another kiss, heat tangling between them like ribbons pulling them closer together, gravitating and sealing. Gentle but firm touches followed, massaging motions and weak moans in their wake.
Ichigo let his head fall back against the pillows as his body was roamed and tortured by his skilled lover, the brunette's devious mouth trailing devilish kisses across his petal soft skin, igniting flushes and kiss bruises.
Arching into his touch Ichigo let out a cry of surprised pleasure as his lover's fingers brushed the sensitive skin of his body's entrance; biting down upon his bottom lip, he let out a muffled moan as his body was breached by the invading digits.
Rocking his hand once Ichigo's muscles had relaxed slightly, Stark pushed deeper and massaged the ball of sensitive nerves inside of him and smiled faintly as his lover writhed and moaned wantonly in response.
He pulled his hand away when he was certain the other was ready enough and he leaned over him, silencing him with a deep kiss as he eased himself into him fully. They both groaned in response to the sudden action and Stark found himself panting shortly as he forced himself not to move until his lover was ready.
He wanted to make sure Ichigo enjoyed this as much as possible.
So they had chosen war. It was not the course of action he would have chosen personally, but he supposed it could not be helped.
Aizen turned away from the sight of the Werewolf Estate, sensing the one who carried his heir inside with Stark. He still desired Ichigo, but he desired the safety of his heir more, it was a child which could rule after he was gone.
But he was not yet gone so he needn't concern himself with thoughts of the cub. No, if he wanted to succeed then he needed to remain focused upon his plans.
And his plans were of the upmost importance to him, as always.
With that thought in mind he used his powers of transportation and arrived deep in the recesses of his former home, the Incubus Estate. He was in the very bowels of the Estate, a space which was even lower underground than the prisons.
This was a secret place, known only to a few people. The walls were thick stone; there was a grate in the ceiling which revealed the prison cells above. As he walked down the short corridor towards his destination, his eyes narrowed slightly as a devious smirk tickled the corners of his lips.
He came to a stop outside of a large metal door, twisting the locks so that it opened, the Incubus Lord pulled the door open with a slow and deliberate creak.
Slipping into the room beyond he paused as his eyes fell upon the carbon frozen cell which housed the original founder of the Clan he had ruled so diligently.
Chocolate brown eyes flicking to the right he watched as one of his own subordinates tapped at the computer which regulated the frozen temperature of the cell.
"How much longer until you can free him?" he asked.
"A few hours, Aizen-sama." Came the reply.
He walked further into the room and rested his hand on the frozen cell, peering through the tiny window at the top into the carbon. He raised an elegant eyebrow as his gaze met that of the frozen Dominis.
It was like looking in an ageless mirror, for Dominis's brunette hair was styled the same as his own, the man's elegant and high cheek bones reiterated Aizen's and the chocolate brown eyes which stared sightlessly out of the ice were an exact replica of his.
"It still gives me the creeps to see how alike you are in appearance." The subordinate called from his computer.
"What do you expect?" Aizen replied calmly, "I was born as his clone after all."
"Indeed, but it is still strange to see."
"Szayel, keep your opinions to yourself lest you wish to lose that silver tongue of yours."
The girlish squeak of protest that he heard gave him pause for thought, he turned away from the man he had been made from and glanced at the pink haired scientist curiously for a moment before he walked over to the corner of the room and took a seat as he waited patiently for Dominis to be unfrozen.
If the Werewolves wanted a war, he was going to give them one.