Winner of the poll by one vote. Guess what was second? Tipping The Scales, my first Kenpachi/Urahara story. Fuck yes. My dream has become a reality: I'm slowly converting you perverts to the world of this fuck-tastically brilliant pairing. Bow to me, bitches. -TPP
Chapter Five: Down The Rabbit Hole
Ichigo had been kidnapped. He shouldn't be enjoying the food so much, but he was.
Honestly, Kisuke's empinadas were so damn good he would be willing to go through the entire traumatic experience all over again.
But it was kind of true.
Or maybe he'd had too much wine.
Besides, he was a grown man. Was it still considered kidnapping? If anything, the cops would either see him as a victim or as an accomplice. News stations were probably scrambling for the best coverage, witnesses, survivors, something.
But Ichigo was on his seventh cup of wine, his stomach impossibly full from the delicious Spanish food, and he didn't want to think about destruction and who might be dead or not.
Ichigo watched Shirosaki and Renji fight over the last empinada, their teeth bared at each other as they growled, Shirosaki going so far as to bite Renji in the forearm. Renji hissed, knocking his arm and elbowing Shirosaki in the mouth. Blood erupted from Shirosaki's mouth. He licked it away with a blue tongue and cackled like a hyena as he threw himself into Renji, knocking him against the table and sinking his sharp teeth into Renji's neck.
"Oh my, in front of company, little ones?" Kisuke sighed, lifting his cup of wine to sip from it daintily while the two boys continued to scrape and bite and make each other bleed, the empinada left unguarded near the edge of the table.
Ulquiorra took advantage of the opportunity, scooping it up silently and cutting it in half. He gave half of it to Gin who just smiled and kissed Ulquiorra on the cheek.
Ulquiorra's eyes fell on Ichigo as he chewed on his scavenged food, the eyes too deep and making Ichigo uncomfortable.
If there was one thing Ichigo had learned over the course of their meal, it was that these boys had no sense of boundaries. The psychologist in Ichigo had been going ape shit collecting so much data on human interaction: it was obvious these men had no concern for personal space, sexuality, or even violence.
They were just…primal. Everything base desire, complete id. At first it had scared the living daylights out of Ichigo upon sitting down at the enormous table to such a delicious feast, only to have the men acting like cave men the second they started eating. They talked, of course, but most of it was drinking, throwing, spilling. Grimmjow had even thrown his plate on the floor when he wanted more, reminding Ichigo of the scene from Thor when he threw his mug on the ground and demanded more coffee.
And Kisuke, God bless him, was like the den mother of this rag tag bunch. He might actually be the scariest of them all, considering he ate with a knife and fork, keeping polite conversation by candle light with Ichigo while all the chaos carried on around him, Kenpachi next to him, his shirt soaked through with spilled wine and harder liquors as he chewed on some rice. For some reason the giant man Kenpachi was less intimidating while sitting next to his…Kisuke.
Ichigo nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Shirosaki let out a ridiculously loud moan, Renji having him pinned to the side of the table now, his teeth scraping over Shirosaki's jugular. The hard-on in his jeans was more than obvious. Shirosaki was pulling viciously at Renji's hair, which had fallen like a river down his back, deep and crimson.
"Problem, Ichigo?" Renji finally asked, leering at his ex-work mate, his pupils blown wide.
Shirosaki cackled, wrapping his hands around Renji's neck and squeezing, "Pay attention, Monkey."
Ichigo just watched wide-eyed as Gin got up from the table, still chewing on the last of his empinada as he pressed himself against Renji's exposed back, making the red head look over his shoulder.
Ichigo knew he was flushing furiously. He was drunk enough to think about snapping a photo of such a lewd display: Shirosaki pushed against the table, scratching at Renji's chest again as Renji craned his neck back to bite Gin's bottom lip, Gin's hips pushing into Renji's ass which was nothing but black boxers.
Ichigo decided that, yes, these men had absolutely no boundaries when it came to sex.
The thought should have scared him, but instead he felt himself growing hard.
What was this? A harem?
The picture was ruined when everyone heard a thwack against the wooden table: Ulquiorra had his pale, black-nailed hand around the hilt of a sharp carving knife. He'd stabbed it into the table next to his plate, his arm tense, showing the curve of muscle while his face remained completely impassive.
"Excuse me," he said quietly, his eyes on the three boys making a spectacle of themselves, "I do not remember giving you permission to touch them, Shirosaki."
Shirosaki giggled, his body like jello on the table as Renji rocked into him, a smirk on his face as well, "M'sorry, baby. S'ok though, yeah?"
Ulquiorra removed the knife from the table, making Ichigo tense: what the fuck was he going to do with that?
"Remove yourself from him. Or I will slice you open. Again."
Renji barked with laughter, sliding off the sexually-frustrated albino, Gin's arms wrapping more firmly around his (boyfriend?) as he swayed back from the table, stepping into Gin.
"So scary," Renji said as Gin giggled into his shoulder.
Ichigo noticed several long scars across Renji's tattooed and chiseled torso, wondering if they were all from a defensive Ulquiorra.
So Ichigo had been wrong: some of them had a sense of possession. To an extent, apparently. Ulquiorra required permission for his (boyfriend?) to play with the others.
Maybe he wasn't drunk enough to consent to that yet.
"Aw, baby," Shirosaki whined, crawling across the table on his hands and knees until he was in front of Ulquiorra, "Just wanted 'ta play a lil'. I love you lots, you know that."
Ulquiorra stood up, grabbing Shirosaki by the hair and holding the blade up to his neck with the other.
Ichigo felt himself tense and scoot back in his chair, Heart Breaker smiling next to him, enjoying the show while flicking a lighter.
"You will be punished," Ulquiorra murmured, making Shirosaki hiss as he cut a small, shallow line along the top of Shiro's chest, right above his right nipple.
Ichigo's dick twitched in his pants.
Ulquiorra dipped his head and licked at the blood, making Shirosaki sigh with pleasure.
"Is anybody interested in dessert? How about some Smores?" Kisuke said brightly, setting down his cup and getting up from the table in his apron, "Starrk, Ichigo, Grimm?"
"I'll take two," Starrk said, stifling a yawn as he leaned into his hand and continued a text message, completely ignoring a now-rutting Ulquiorra and Shirosaki. Shirosaki had crawled into Ulquiorra's lap, who just happened to be seated next to the sleepy ex-orderly.
Ichigo almost jumped out of his seat again when he felt Heart Breaker's hand in his lap, rubbing over his erection.
He almost swallowed his tongue, his hands scraping at Heart Breaker's arm, trying to claw him away, but Heart Breaker just laughed softly into his ear.
"Dinner and a show," he breathed, nipping Ichigo so hard on the ear lobe he grunted in pain. He licked over it again as if to apologize, and Ichigo, for a wild moment, thought that he might let Heart Breaker get away with this if they weren't so public.
He still had boundaries, morals.
Why he did, he wasn't sure. He'd been with these boys for less than three hours and already felt his mind slipping.
But no. It had been slipping for weeks, even as a proper doctor.
Since high school, if he was being completely honest.
Morality. Ethics. Responsibility.
"How boring," Heart Breaker said, as if reading Ichigo's mind, but he knew he was referring to how Ichigo had pushed back from the table to escape his hands.
Or maybe he had read his mind. Who was to say at this point? Heart Breaker could read his body language, his face, like a fucking encyclopedia.
"I-I need the bathroom," he said lamely, looking to Kisuke for help.
Kisuke smiled warmly at him, "Just down the hall on your left, there." Then he was flouncing into the kitchen area, Kenpachi trailing behind him like a dog looking for more table scraps.
Ichigo expected Heart Breaker to follow him, but he didn't. Ichigo threw himself into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. The bathroom was nice, nothing to suggest a bunch of crazy people occupied it on a daily basis.
It even smelled good. Like lavender and honey.
He peed, enjoying his privacy. Flushed, washed his hands. Stared in the mirror.
Then sat on the edge of the tub, thinking about his current predicament.
He'd been KIDNAPPED and THREATENED and probably could've been KILLED at least half a dozen times by now.
But he didn't feel…much danger…anymore.
At least, now that he could collect himself, but then again, that could be a full belly and the wine talking.
He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the white marble floor.
He didn't have shoes on. When had those come off? His shirt was unbuttoned around the throat. Maybe he'd done that sometime during dinner.
His belt was missing, too. What the hell?
"No more wine," he told himself, licking his lips self-consciously. To be honest, he could drown himself in it right now, but who knew what would happen if he did that?
The last thing he needed was to wake up, his ass destroyed from Heart Breaker. Or any of the others with boundaries looser than Marilyn Monroe's pussy.
Ichigo almost screamed when there was a thump against the door. He actually climbed into the bathtub, a safety precaution he had learned about tornadoes almost instinctually, staying quiet.
There was another thump, but it was followed by a deep moan.
He was surrounded by some fifteen-year-old girl's yaoi fantasy.
The moan turned into a whine, a whine straddling the line between pleasure and pain.
Ichigo's hands shot over his dick. It was pounding just from the sound of Heart Breaker's low order.
But who the fuck was he tormenting against that door?
Shirosaki? Renji? Gin?
Ichigo climbed out of the tub, approaching the door, unlocking it quietly.
He opened the door.
His eyes went wide. Heartbreaker had Starrk pinned against the side of the hallway next to the bathroom door, a bloody bite on the top of his chest. Heart Breaker's knee was between Starrk's legs, making him moan again.
Ichigo knew he was hard but chose to ignore it. Starrk's voice was deep and Heartbreaker was smirking at Ichigo like he knew.
"Sup, doc?" he said lecherously, running one of his hands down past the band of Starrk's pants and making him hiss.
Instead, Ichigo felt himself saying, "Starrk, are you ok?"
For some reason, Ichigo still felt a loyalty towards his ex-work friends.
Starrk looked at him, a sleepy smirk on his face. Ichigo's erection was pounding now, "M'good, Ichigo. Boss is just playing around."
"Don't look so scandalized, doc. I'm not gonna fuck him" he said, smiling wide as Starrk shuddered in his grasp. Heartbreaker removed his hand, licking away cum. Ichigo was glad he was standing against a door or he probably would've fallen on the ground. His legs weren't very strong at the moment, "I could, though. He'd let me."
"Good for you."
Grimm laughed, running his clean hand through Starrk's hair like he was trying to annoy a kid brother, "Good work today, Starrk."
"Mm," he replied, yawning again, "I think I'm going to bed. Be nice to Ichigo."
Heartbreaker smirked, hands in his pockets as he looked Ichigo up and down.
Ichigo knew he was looking at his crotch.
Heartbreaker's leer would haunt him, "Can't promise that."
Starrk chuckled as he disappeared down the dark hallway, leaving Ichigo alone with the blue-haired psychopath.
"Something the matter, doc?"
Ichigo ran his hands over his face and sighed, "Look, Heartbreaker or Grimm or whatever else the hell you go by, I'm tired. I'm tired and if you're not planning on killing me tonight, I'd really, really like to get some sleep."
Heartbreaker laughed, folding his arms over his chest, "Well, points for honesty, doc. I think I'll make a man out of you yet."
Ichigo was annoyed by that comment, but just because everybody in the house was drunk or high or fucking didn't mean that saying the wrong thing wouldn't set the unpredictable man off, so he kept his mouth shut.
"Please? I really just want to lie down."
Heartbreaker looked him up and down again, "Sure, doc. Follow me."
"So is everybody in Cero a raging homosexual?" Ichigo yawned as he followed Heartbreaker up a flight of stairs. Sometimes his sarcastic bitch side came out when he was drunk. And he was curious about the going's on of Cero.
Interesting bunch, to say the least.
Heartbreaker shrugged, "We do what we want. Sex is sex, yeah? A hole's a hole, don't you think, doc?"
Ichigo knew he was fire engine red at this point, "W-well, I certainly didn't expect everybody to be so...open about their...relationships."
Heartbreaker stopped, turning on Ichigo and tapping against his chest, "If I want something, I take it. If someone else tries to take what I want, I stop them by whatever means necessary. If I want sex, I get it. If I'm hungry, I make a sandwich. If I want a cock in my mouth, I find one. Get it? What society calls a slut I call a genius: they get what they want, and fuck what anybody thinks about it."
"So everybody just...like, fucks everybody? Nobody believes in, like, a monogamous relationship?" Ichigo heard himself saying. Why did he even care? They were all adults: if they wanted to fuck everybody they made eye contact with Ichigo couldn't stop them, but he figured emotions would have to count in at some point if Ulquiorra's knife at dinner was any indication.
Heartbreaker sighed, "Of course they can. We're still people, doc: we're just more honest about what we want. Ghost and Schif have been together forever. Do they love each other? Yeah. Do they fuck other people? When they want to. Same with Renji and Gin. Did you see Kisuke fucking everybody in the room? No, 'cuz he chooses not to. He's dedicated to Kenpachi, and Kenpachi to him. Did I fuck Starrk? No, but he was horny and I offered a hand. Do I wanna fuck Starrk? No, I wanna fuck you. Get it?"
Ichigo opened and closed his mouth a few times. It shouldn't surprise him by this point how straightforward Heartbreaker was, but still, shouldn't he be at least a little embarrassed?
Not that Ichigo's dick was complaining.
"So what? Morality is merely a matter of circumstance?" Ichigo said in a last ditch effort to effectively understand how Heartbreaker viewed relationships.
"Couldn't have said it better myself, doc. We're taught ethics, morals, from the time we're small, but we don't have to believe in them, or follow them. We don't have to accept them. Hell, the only reason you have 'em in the first place is because somebody sat you down and taught you them, or beat them into you. 'Cuz that's what society does: it tells you what's acceptable, what's not. What's normal, what's irrational. They're there, little guidelines for the blind, stupid sheep. You don't learn that shit on your own, it's forced onto you, shoved down your throat until it's ingrained in your mind, your body. It's what makes you stay quiet when you enter a doctor's waiting room, a library, a classroom on the first day of school. It's what makes you wait in line for hours at a theme park. It's what makes you buy flowers and dinner for a girl you want to fuck. Stupid, stupid, boring guidelines."
He leaned into Ichigo, making him shiver as he talked into his ear, "So fuck ethics and fuck your morality: they don't mean shit to me."
Then Heartbreaker turned around and continued up the stairs, the conversation apparently over.
Ichigo was surprised to be led to the third floor of the mansion. Heartbreaker kicked a slightly-open door all the way open, walking in with his hands in his pockets. Ichigo wanted to whistle at the size of the room with giant windows looking out over a now-dark ocean, the moon out and gorgeous.
It would probably be dazzling when he woke up in the morning.
The bed was a king, and that's all he cared about as his body finally caught up with how tired his brain was. He felt achy all over, and his neck still hurt even after all the booze.
The room looked untouched, like a hotel room. Surprising considering the state of the rest of the house.
"You can sleep here. Or anywhere. It doesn't matter," Heartbreaker said, cracking his neck, "It's the only room in the house that still has a lock, so take advantage of it."
Ichigo drew his eyebrows together, "What? That doesn't seem very safe."
Heartbreaker laughed, turning towards Ichigo, "What part of having no boundaries don't you get, doc? You still have them though, so I can respect that. For now, at least. Nothing belongs to anybody in this house, so I suggest you lock up when I leave."
Ichigo swallowed, not sure how far that threat extended. It could be as innocent as a hippie's version of a homeless shelter, where just anybody could walk in and crash anywhere, like a haven for the lost. Where food was shared, love for everybody.
Or it could mean rape. If nothing belonged to anybody, then bodies and consent didn't matter either, did they?
Then again, why wasn't Ichigo gagged and stuffed in a closet somewhere? Weren't they worried about him escaping? Running? Calling for help? Fuck, he could pick up a phone and have the cops here in minutes, couldn't he?
Heartbreaker leaned against a fancy wood dresser, "We don't have a land line. Some of 'em carry cell phones, but you'll have to perform some pretty big favors to pull that off, doc. As for running, well, like I said, there's no locks anywhere else in the house, but I'm not promising somebody isn't watching."
Ichigo was getting tired at the ease in which Heartbreaker seemed to know what he was thinking. He had thought with all his training in psychology he had developed a good poker face for patients. Apparently Heartbreaker was out to break that part of Ichigo's psyche too. Ichigo's eyes flickered around the room as if expecting to see big security cameras watching him.
Heartbreaker grinned, "My goal isn't to babysit you. If you want to go, go, but there's other Cero you haven't met yet. This property is the biggest, and a lot of us crash here. I can't promise your safety, so, there you go, doc: how does it feel to be in charge of your own lock and key?"
Ichigo didn't know if he wanted to punch Heart Breaker or get on his knees and cry. It was…it was so…strange. His doctor brain scrambled to make some semblance of reason, of order.
This was the strangest attempt at Stockholm Syndrome he had ever seen. His abductor making him feel as if he held his freedom in his own hands. Not only that, he was being uncharacteristically reasonable.
He wasn't saying to stay, but he wasn't saying to go, either.
He was giving Ichigo freedom of choice.
He was being honest. Truly, truly honest. It was…refreshing.
To hear honesty and believe it…well, Ichigo barely ever felt that way. People always had agendas, secrets: Heart Breaker's voice was placid, no hint of malice or lust or ill intent.
He sounded almost bored. Even his body language was conveying that, which was lulling Ichigo into a false sense of security.
Then again, if Heartbreaker was trying to make Ichigo a compliant hostage, his attempt at offering safety in a locked room was another way in which the anarchist could earn the doctor's trust.
It was making Ichigo feel like he was going in circles, but he knew, just knew that Heartbreaker wasn't fucking with him right now.
If he ran, he was responsible for himself. Anything could happen. It was an obvious challenge.
But if he stayed…he was also in charge of himself and anything could happen. Free to wander, or to stay locked away. To think as much as he wanted, or to go wherever he pleased. To get in the fetal position and starve or to fight with other free men for the last empinada. He could lock the door and cry in the soft-looking sheets, or he could fuck Grimmjow into the headboard, raking his nails over all that scarred flesh.
To leave or stay: Ichigo didn't know which option scared him more.
"It's exciting, isn't it?" Heartbreaker said, suddenly close enough to Ichigo to run his hand over the side of his face, down the side of his neck, "To choose, to have choice. Be your own man, to fuck the rules. It's almost better than sex."
Ichigo took a deep breath, trying to ignore how good Heart Breaker's calloused fingers felt against his warm neck, his cheekbone.
And all that wine…Ichigo was so, so tired of thinking.
Ichigo scrubbed at his face with his hands again, wishing this was all just a horrible nightmare and he'd wake up on his couch surrounded by patient files and empty coffee mugs.
Ichigo pushed Heartbreaker's hands away, instantly regretting it when Heartbreaker just smiled at him.
Why did he care? He didn't want him touching him anyway, but…but Heartbreaker was supposed to fight him, wasn't he?
Heartbreaker licked his bottom lip, "Sweet dreams, doc."
Ichigo watched him head towards the door, "Sleep tight, don't let the bed. Bugs. Bite."
The door clicked shut quietly, a whisper.
Ichigo stared at the knob.
He heard Heartbreaker whistling to himself, a lullaby-like tune as he drifted down the hallway.
Ichigo touched the door, his heart pounding.
"It's exciting, isn't it?"
Ichigo pressed his whole body up against the door.
It took him much longer than it should have to flick the lock into place.