It was two months later. Two visits later.
Ichigo was beyond thrilled to see Shiro again, though his expression turned sheepish quickly as he raised his arms in front of himself. They were unshackled. "You forgot to put them back on yesterday... I-I... think it was yesterday...?" He'd more or less given up attempting to keep track of time. It was impossible.
Shiro snickered. "So I did, s'why I came back. It was yesterday." He was pleased to see that the shinigami hadn't even attempted to escape. He had left the cuffs off on purpose, telling the teen to shut up and lie down when he'd tried to alert him to it the previous day as he'd left.
Stepping forward, the hollow hooked a finger in the front of Ichigo's collar. "Tell me what this means." Every month the same question since the time he'd wrapped his hands around the shinigami's throat. "It signifies your ownership of me," Ichigo replied, fluid and without hesitation. Shiro would never get tired of hearing it. "Good boy," he purred, petting the other's hair.
For a moment, Ichigo looked conflicted between being uncomfortable and being elated at the praise. "I'll stay with ya t'day too." The hollow added. Attention two days in a row was unthinkable. It was the best reward he could have been given. Ichigo chose elated.
Shiro slowly began visiting more frequently, until every week found him at his pet's bedside rather than every month.
Ichigo had both arms and legs wrapped around the hollow, shamelessly moaning with his head thrown back as the force of Shiro's thrusts shook the bed beneath them. The hollow took full advantage of the exposed flesh, running a hot tongue along the sensitive skin of the teen's throat and then nipping along it so that little red marks were left behind. Broken capillaries. He enjoyed leaving marks on his toy. Some of the marks he left on the shinigami would last weeks.
Lifting his head, he observed the moaning shinigami for a moment before reaching to hook a finger in the front of his collar. He had hardly gotten his finger through when the response came. "Yours!" Ichigo gasped. The hollow had to hide his surprise, smiling and leaning down to cover the teen's mouth with his own. Ichigo's moans hummed against his lips.
It was the second time he'd fucked the captive shinigami in a row, the teen having begged him for more. Parting lips Ichigo panted for air and tried to grasp his own neglected length only to have his hand knocked away by Shiro. "Please!" He gasped, clutching at the hollow's arm. "What d'ya want?" Shiro asked. "More," the shinigami said breathlessly. "That ain't very clear, Ichi."
The teen groaned, his painfully hard erection untouched. "Please, Shiro, I want to come!" Shiro's hand closed around him and he arched, moving his hips back to meet the hollow's thrusts. Shiro finished first, thrusting deep into his former king as he came. Leaning down, he gave one of Ichigo's nipples a sharp nip, sending the boy over the edge as well.
A grin spread across his face when the shinigami choked out his name as he climaxed.
It was another two months later.
Shiro arrived to find Ichigo already stripped, his clothes neatly folded at the end of the bed. The teen smiled at him. "I knew it was getting close," he said. The shinigami couldn't have known the exact day. For all Shiro knew, he'd been like that for several days in anticipation of the one the hollow would arrive.
Moving closer to the bedside, he noticed that Ichigo was already getting hard. Just the sight of him was enough now. It gave him the most wonderful sense of power. The shinigami leaned up onto his knees and extended his arms for his cuffs to be removed. As soon as he was relieved of them, he put his arms around his hollow's neck.
"Did ya miss me?" Shiro asked, placing a hand against Ichigo's cheek. "Yeah. A lot," the teen replied very seriously. Removing a bottle of something from his pocket, the hollow handed it to Ichigo, who knew exactly what to do with it. Sitting back on the bed, the shinigami opened the bottle and poured some of it's contents into his hand before closing it and placing it on the bed.
Shiro moved to sit on the bed and watch as Ichigo slicked up his fingers, face flushing with arousal as he reached between his legs and pressed them into himself, first one and then the other. His breath started coming faster as he fingered himself, but he knew better than to touch his aching erection.
Removing his hakama, the hollow snatched up the bottle of lube as the other prepped themself, coating himself with it. "On yer stomach," he ordered. Ichigo obediently laid across the bed on his stomach, his head on the pillows. Crawling over to the shinigami, the hollow inserted two fingers first, eliciting a soft moan from the orange haired teen as he moved them slowly in and out.
Removing them, he straddled the shinigami's backside, replacing them with his cock. Ichigo gasped and clutched at the pillow beneath him as Shiro entered him, drawing a chuckle from the hollow. "Yer gonna need that pillow..." he said as he began to ride Ichigo with deep, hard thrusts.
The shinigami clutched the pillow tighter, moans that would otherwise fill the room muffled against it. Reaching forward, the hollow yanked his head back by his hair, enjoying the explosion of unhindered sound the other emitted. Letting Ichigo's head drop, the hollow traced an area of raised skin along the side of the teen's neck where a particularly enthusiastic bite had been.
Ichigo turned his head enough to peer up at Shiro with one eye. "You're le- leaving... scars," he commented between shaky breaths, smiling up at him. The hollow smirked back down. "I know," he said, before quickening his pace. Gasping, the shinigami buried his face back in the pillow, groaning and taking part of it between his teeth.
After a few moments he felt Shiro pull free of him, but the hollow was grabbing one of his hands before he could form a question, pulling the shinigami into his lap. "What?" he blurted in confusion before he realized what Shiro was asking for. Straddling the hollow's lap, he reached down to position Shiro against himself, bringing himself all the way down over the other's hardened length with a soft sound of pleasure.
Pulling him closer, the hollow engaged the shinigami in a hard kiss, placing his hands on the other's hips. Ichigo moved his tongue aside to allow Shiro to explore his mouth with his own, wrapping his arms around his captor's neck. As they broke for air, the teen began moving, already breathless as he drove his hips down over Shiro's cock.
He soon found that if he pressed close enough to his hollow, he could get some stimulation for his own aching need. He placed his head over the hollow's shoulder with a moan, quickening his thrusts. "Ichigo," the hollow said suddenly, breathy.
The shinigami gave a pleasant shudder at the sound of his name falling from the hollow's lips. It was a rarity. He pulled back enough to look at his hollow questioningly. "Yes?" Shiro raised both hands, taking hold of the collar about the teen's neck and casually manipulating it between fingers. "...Think I should take this off and set ya free?"
Ichigo's eyes slowly widened until the whites were visible clear around. "No!" he gasped, beginning to tremble as he raised both hands to grasp Shiro's wrists in desperation. Inside the hollow was laughing, but outside he gave a look of confusion. "Why not? Ya don't wanna be free?"
"No! Please, I'll be good, please don't take it off! No!" Tears were streaming down the shinigami's face as his words devolved into incoherent screaming. Releasing the collar, Shiro pulled the teen to himself, wrapping his arms around the beautiful mess he'd created. "Hey, calm down. I won't take it off, okay?" Ichigo sobbed into his shoulder, shaking. He'd wrapped his arms and legs around the hollow, pressed their bodies as tightly together as they went. As if he could merge them into one being again.
"My poor broken king," the hollow said softly over the shinigami's shoulder, a grin spreading across his face.
It was the next day.
Ichigo was sitting on the bed, oblivious to the battle raging outside thanks to the sound proof walls. He was about to let himself fall back onto it when an explosion tore a hole in the wall to his quarters. Gasping in surprise, he watched the smoke filter into the room, waiting to see what figure would come with it.
The shinigami that stepped through was short and petite with dark blue eyes that showed nothing but fierce determination and resolve. "R-Rukia...?" Ichigo asked in disbelief. How long had it been since he'd last seen the tiny shinigami? "No time Ichigo, we couldn't get Soul Society to cooperate with your rescue no matter how hard we tried. There are very few of us. Our goal is to get in and out as quickly as possible!" Rushing towards his bedside she took his hands, examining the cuffs on them.
"Wait... Rukia," Ichigo began. "I told you, there's no time, Ichigo!" Grateful that they weren't reiatsu resistant, the shinigami easily broke them with a kidou spell. "We'll get this wretched thing off you later," she said, touching the collar around his neck.
The orange haired teen suddenly went tense, eyes flying wide. In a flash of movement he'd grabbed Rukia's zanpakuto from it's sheathe. "No!" he shouted, blind panic on his face as he lunged to his feet, bringing the blade down across the chest of the raven haired woman.
Rukia stumbled back a few steps, looking down at the gash drawn across her chest as blood began to soak into her shihakushō. Her shaking hands pressed against it and she looked up at Ichigo, eyes full of pain and betrayal. "Ichigo... why!?" The teen's grip was white knuckled on the zanpakuto as he held it out before him. "You can't take it off!" he shouted desperately at her, eyes wild.
"Ichigo... put down the zanpakuto." She tried to sound soothing. Something was clearly wrong. Very, very wrong. The teen's eyes darted to the side for a moment, as if he was considering it, and Rukia took that chance to lunge forward, one hand wrapping around the hilt of the sword and the other finding the sleeve of his other arm.
"Ichigo, please give me the zanpakuto!" she pleaded. The teen's eyes snapped back to her. "You can't remove this! This... this is a symbol of Shiro's ownership of me!" Rukia's eyes widened at the desperation in his. Hadn't Shiro been the name of his inner hollow? "Ichigo... what have they done to you?" Bringing a leg up, Ichigo kicked the petite woman away from himself.
Rukia gasped as she stumbled back, coming away with nothing more than part of Ichigo's sleeve. There was no time for her to recover, no hope for her to react in time, as Ichigo brought the sword down against her in a second slash. "Kh!" Falling back, she grabbed for the sheer curtain behind her only to have it tear and come down with her.
Panting against the pain, her eyes flew wide as she saw above herself. Ichigo was standing over her with her zanpakuto raised, the blade facing down. "Ichigo, don't do it!" she screamed.
Time seemed to skip before she suddenly realized that she was staring at Sode no Shirayuki jutting from her chest. "Ichi... go," she choked. As black closed in, she saw the look of pain and conflict he wore as he stared down at her.
When Shiro arrived at Ichigo's quarters to find that it had already been broken into, he was certain that the shinigami was gone. But a few steps into the room had him noticing a petite hand that stuck out past the bottom of the bed. One that was covered in blood. Tilting his head like a curious dog, he continued inward, coming around to find the corpse of Rukia Kuchiki.
Glancing up, he found Ichigo sitting at the center of the bed, his legs drawn up against himself and his arms covering his head. The teen shifted enough to peer at the hollow past his arms with one wide eye. "...She tried to take it off..." The corner of his lip twitched up in what might have been a smile if it wasn't so pitiful looking.
The sounds of battle outside were dying down now and of no concern to Shiro. The rest of Ichigo's friends were surely either dead or retreating. But this one... Rukia Kuchiki had been nearly as important to him as his own family.
Stepping over the corpse of the small shinigami, the hollow came to the bed's side, embracing Ichigo as the teen rushed to him. Ichigo cried into the front of Shiro's shirt, clutching it tightly. "She was going to take it off!" The hollow pet the shinigami's hair soothingly. "But she can't now, right?" he said. How pathetic his king had become. A bug he could crush with words alone. The teen nodded slowly against him.
"Ya've been a very good boy t'day," Shiro commented, running fingers through orange hair. Ichigo looked up at him. "...Does that mean you'll stay?" The hollow grinned. "I'll stay."
He pushed the shinigami back on the bed and climbed up, laying his body along Ichigo's. They laid like that for several minutes, content with just eachother's warmth before Shiro lifted his head from the teen's shoulder. "Ichigo."
Alarm rang in the shinigami's eyes, one hand going to his collar, and the hollow chuckled. "I ain't gonna take it off, don't worry." A finger gently traced the scar on Ichigo's neck again. "Ya'll be mine forever, right?" Ichigo blinked before smiling up at his hollow.