It had been a month since Aizen had used the Hōgyoku to split them. A month since he'd joined the Espada. The hollow twirled a key around one finger as he made his way through his section of Los Noches, to the door with a matching lock. Opening it, he switched the light to the room on immediately, hearing a grunt of protest from the white, king sized bed at its center. It was shielded from view by an equally white curtain that hung on either side, just sheer enough to show movement and shadow. White. It was the very definition of the room, not a speck of color invading its walls. It was the blinding white of snow, pure and clean.

The hollow moved silently to the foot of the bed, eyeing its occupant. A shinigami with fiery orange hair, metal cuffs on his wrists shackled to a metal collar about his neck with additional cuffs binding his ankles. The teen had brought his hands up to shield his eyes from the sudden light. Light had been a rare thing over the past month. Sound as well, the walls solidly soundproof.

It had been a month since Ichigo had had any real human contact.

"Behavin'?" the hollow questioned casually.

"Fuck you," Ichigo replied, lifting his hands just enough to peer at his now freed hollow from beneath. Even the clothes he'd been provided were white. He felt like he was in a hospital.

"At least yer on the damn bed this time instead'a hoppin' around like an idiot," Shiro said, moving around to the side of the bed.

"I'm going to kill you when I get this shit off," the teen promised, moving his hands enough to glare at the hollow with angry brown eyes.

"Lookin' forward ta it 'King'. If ya don't want me here, guess I'll just leave." The white haired hollow shrugged and walked away to no protest from the shinigami.


It was another month before he returned.

"Yo," the hollow greeted. For briefest instant, he could see relief on his former ruler's face before it was covered up. The shinigami scowled at him, eyes tearing against the sudden onslaught of light where there had been only darkness for a month.

"How long do you plan to keep me here?" he asked.

Ignoring the question, Shiro asked one of his own. "How're th' maids treatin' ya?"

There was confusion in the teen's eyes, but he answered. "They don't talk and they don't stick around." He shrugged. "They're okay." Shiro just smiled. They didn't talk or stick around because they were under strict orders not to. But Ichigo didn't need to know that.

"Y'must be bored. Wanna have some fun?" the hollow asked, leaning with his hands on the bed, his grinning face inches above Ichigo's own. The shinigami shrunk back into the pillow in surprise.

"What?" he questioned obliviously.

"I said, d'ya wanna have some fun?" his pale look-alike repeated. This time he made himself a little clearer, a cool hand slipping into the teen's shirt to run along the firm muscles there.

That was clear enough for Ichigo. "Get- get your fucking hands off of me!" he shouted, trying to squirm away when he found that the chain binding his hands to his neck was too short to allow him to reach the hollow's searching hand.

Chuckling, the hollow obliged. "Guess ya still ain't interested in any attention. I'll leave ya alone."

And he did. For another month.


The third visit went much like the second, though the look on Ichigo's face was unmistakable this time even when the teen tried to hide it. He was glad to see Shiro. Glad to see anyone. But the only one visiting him was Shiro. "Happy ta see me?" the hollow had asked.

"Like hell I'd be happy to see you," the teen had replied. But when he inevitably denied the hollow's advances once again, Shiro could swear he saw a 'wait' on the shinigami's lips as he turned to leave. A flash of desperation.


Another month.

The fourth visit got him the same incremental changes. Ichigo didn't even bother to hide his relief at the sight of Shiro this time. He tried to stall the hollow from what he knew was coming, taunting him, creating conversation. But Shiro wasn't having it. And this time, he didn't take no for an answer.

"I told you not to!" Ichigo shouted at him. The teen's shirt was pulled up over his head, his bound hands entangled in it.

"Just shut up an' enjoy it," the hollow replied, closing his lips over the other's in an attempt to stifle any further protests. A grunt left him as he felt teeth sink into his bottom lip. He waited a moment before realizing that Ichigo had no intention of letting go. Instead they sunk deeper, threatening to tear clean through his lip.

Hissing, the hollow brought a hand up and wrapped it around the boy's throat, fingers pressing in brutally. The teen held on several long moments longer before releasing the hollow's lip in search of air. A blue tongue snaked out to collect some of the blood dripping down his chin as Shiro released the vice-like grip on Ichigo's throat, leaving him gasping and coughing. "Y'know, I like it rough," he said, undoing his shirt. "But I think I got enough holes." He let it slip off.

Blood was drying on Ichigo's lips as he caught his breath, glaring at Shiro. As the shirt came off, his eyes were drawn immediately to the gaping hole in the center of the hollow's chest and he realized he'd never really seen Shiro without a shirt before.

Shiro stared back down at the teen for a moment, noting that he had lost weight, what little fat he had and some muscle mass. Without warning, the hollow dipped down, closing his mouth over one of Ichigo's nipples. "Wh- stop, what are you doing!?" Ichigo yelled. He could feel heat in his cheeks, embarrassment.

Offering no reply, the hollow sucked lightly on the hardened nub, circling it with his tongue before pressing the tip against it. He grazed it with his teeth as his mouth left, and he could feel his former king jolt beneath him.

"I said stop it," Ichigo repeated.

"Feel good?" Shiro questioned teasingly.

"It hurt," the shinigami insisted, his face getting redder by the second.

The hollow simply raised an eyebrow at him, flicking the same nipple with a thumbnail. It earned him another jerk from the teen, who was suddenly looking everywhere but at those piercing golden eyes. Smiling, Shiro reached between them and groped the other, feeling that Ichigo was beginning to respond to his attention.

"Get off!" The captive shinigami renewed his struggles, trying to pull his arms out of the shirt. "I'll kill you!"

Grinning, his darker half put a stop to it by placing a hand over both of Ichigo's, pinning them above his head. He repositioned himself on the other's body before leaning forward so that their groins touched, teeth giving the teen's exposed throat a sharp nip before he dared to capture the boy's lips again. A thumbnail dug into Ichigo's other nipple as he started to rock his hips into Ichigo's.

The teen was overwhelmed, unsure what to protest first. He tried to turn his head away, but Shiro's lips kept him locked. "Mhn!" he attempted, and the hollow replied by shoving his tongue into his mouth. The shinigami closed his eyes, as if he could block it all out. Now it would become a dream. A nightmare.

Except it didn't. He could feel himself growing against the hollow's own length as Shiro ground their hips together, and it was becoming a struggle to keep his own against the bed.

The hollow finally broke for air, leaving them both panting and giving Ichigo the chance to turn his head away, disgusted with himself, humiliated, and utterly unable to look his hollow in the eye. "Che, don't tell me yer still gonna pretend ya don't want this?" Shiro sneered at him.

"Shut up." It came out breathier than intended, and the teen shut his eyes again.

Sitting up, the hollow leaned far back to undo the shackles around Ichigo's ankles. It was the first time he'd had them off in four months. The shinigami groaned as he moved his legs, muscles cramped and wasted from disuse. The hollow set about relieving him of his pants next, and he found he no longer had the energy to do much more than squirm and make it difficult for his captor.

Reaching into a pocket in his own pants, the hollow drew out a small bottle of something that Ichigo couldn't immediately identify. It became clear soon enough when the hollow poured some of the contents into his hand, slicking up two fingers. The teen's eyes flew wide and he started to sit up only to be slammed back down by a hand against his chest.

"I'll kill you, I swear to God, Shiro!" The teen bucked with renewed energy, trying to throw the hollow off of his lower half. His captor merely forced a leg between his own, spreading them apart.

"Relax, or it'll hurt." The hollow smirked, relishing the look of fear on the shinigami's face. It was the only advice offered before the hollow was pressing a finger into him. Ichigo's breath caught and, despite the advice, every muscle in his body went tense. Shiro hadn't been lying.

He winced as the hollow continued to force his way past clenched muscle. "Told ya," Shiro said. Shutting his eyes a third time, the teen tried to relax his muscles. There was no keeping the hollow out and trying to hurt. Gradually, the pain was reduced to mild discomfort. Then, without warning, the hollow introduced a second finger.

"You- fffuck." Ichigo bit his lip as Shiro drove both fingers into him, the discomfort flaring back up to a burn as he was stretched. Suddenly, the hollow hooked his fingers, stroking something inside that gave Ichigo an intense feeling low in his abdomen. It seemed to spread throughout his body like electricity. Gasping, his hips came up off of the bed, drawing a laugh from the hollow.

The confusion on the teen's face was almost too comical, and before he could collect himself, Shiro had stroked the spot again. Again the boy's hips moved into it, a strangled moan escaping him before he could catch it. His hardened length had spilled pre-come onto his abdomen.

Scissoring his fingers, the hollow stretched him a little more before drawing his fingers out and crawling up Ichigo, whose breath now came in quickened pants. Grabbing the teen by the hair, he jerked his head back and crushed their lips together.

Ichigo didn't fight the kiss, simply letting it happen at first before need got the best of him and he found himself attacking the hollow's lips almost as fervently as the hollow did his own. Satisfied that the shinigami was distracted enough, Shiro slipped out of his own pants.

He found the bottle of lube again with one hand, snapping it open with a thumb and turning it upside down in his fingers to collect some in his palm before chucking it aside. Spreading it over his length, he shifted between Ichigo's legs, drawing them over his hips and positioning himself.

Ichigo caught on. "Mph!" he tried to shout unsuccessfully into the hollow's mouth, and when he tried to draw back to speak, Shiro followed until he was pressed back into the pillow beneath him. Grasping the teen's hip, the hollow thrust into him. Ichigo arched up against his hollow, gasping when Shiro finally let him up for air.

He was too busy catching his breath to say anything as the hollow took up a quick pace, driving himself deeper with each thrust until their hips were meeting. Reaching up, Shiro finally freed the teen's hands from his shirt, smirking when their grip immediately found his shoulders.

The hollow stared down at his captive king, noting that he could speak now if he wanted. Noting that he didn't. He wrapped a hand around Ichigo's cock, beginning to stroke it in time with his own thrusts, and everything the shinigami had been holding back came loose, unrestrained moans finally making their way past his lips.

The hollow ran a blue tongue over pink lips, taking the invitation when they parted and enjoying the vibration of the other's moans against his own. Fingers finding the teen's other nipple, he rubbed a thumb against it before giving it a sharp pinch. Ichigo pulled out of the kiss, and he watched as the other's head fell back, breath caught. He could feel his fallen king's body tense and tremble as he came, spilling onto both their abdomens. The sight was intoxicating, and few thrusts into clenching muscle later, he finished as well, his breath hot against Ichigo's neck.

The orange-haired shinigami looked dazed as the hollow sat up and pulled himself free. Chuckling, Shiro left him to ride out the high as he dressed. By the time he was finished, the teen had curled in on himself. Wordlessly, the hollow left the bedside, making his way to the door. With a sudden, sickening realization, Ichigo realized that Shiro intended to leave him like this, utterly bare and covered in their mess. The hollow's name came out in the form of a scream as the door clicked shut.


It was another month before he saw the hollow.

Though he'd figured out the pattern, it was impossible to tell time in the dark, soundless room of white. He greeted the hollow eagerly when he arrived, pushing aside what had happened last time. Locking it up somewhere dark and forgotten. "Happy ta see me?" Shiro asked as he arrived at the bed's side.

"Yeah..." Ichigo admitted reluctantly, avoiding the hollow's eyes and shielding his own as they adjusted to the light. Though his ankles had been left unbound since Shiro's last visit, he'd only made two additional escape attempts. The wrist cuffs needed to come off if he was going to get anywhere.

"Good. Y'must be bored again by now, right?" The hollow started to climb onto the bed. "Want me ta entertain ya?"

Ichigo barely let him finish before replying. "Get off." There was an iciness to his voice. For a few moments Shiro didn't move, expressionlessly watching the teen. Brown eyes locked on yellow. Defiant. The hollow stood up, smirking.

"That's cold, 'King'." Ichigo's expression remained unchanging. "Well, if that's what ya want." Turning, he walked away. As the hollow left the room, he's certain he heard a muffled sob.