Chapter Text
Unlike the majority of the living people he knows, Ichigo stopped giving much thought to his orientation years ago.
When he was younger, back before everything fell apart, everyone had been sure he’d be an omega. He was a soft-hearted mama’s boy back then. Just a dumbass little kid who’d cared more about picnics and his soft-scented twin sisters than his classes at the dōjō or trading mock alpha blows with the kids at school.
A puffy cheeked crybaby who’d cried over bullies picking on his hair or his name and was still scared of the ghosts he could see.
But then, after that day on the river bank where Grand Fisher shattered Ichigo’s entire world, everything had changed.
Sometimes it’s hard to remember, and even harder to actually believe, what he used to be like back then.
There’d been no more time for picnics and crying about bullies after that day. Ichigo had had to grow up fast and hard and there’d been no time or place for tears.
Ichigo had the twins to look after, two soft-skinned and milk-scented pups to raise and protect, to keep safe and warm and cared for.
And, as if in response to those needs, the aggression he’d never seemed able to tap into before no matter how hard he was pushed had finally come bursting forth.
Ichigo had become less prone to crying and more willing to lash out than he’d ever been before. Had started scowling and snarling, had started hitting back and refusing to back down.
Isshin who, somewhere in those long weeks after that terrible day, had apparently decided that Ichigo was going to present as an alpha had been delighted.
He’d crowed about it with every surprise attack, with every hit of fists and feet. Had practically relished every flash of baby fang or snapping of teeth Ichigo had sent in his direction. Gloried in every attack Ichigo had retaliated against or every time Ichigo came home with bloody knuckles.
His reputation at school and in Karakura Town as a whole had changed as well. His teachers, classmates, and the thugs he ran into routinely all seemed sure he was a baby alpha just waiting to present.
But then Ichigo had turned eleven, had turned twelve, and then finally thirteen with no signs of actual presenting.
Bloodwork and more exams than Ichigo cares to remember had given them a tentative answer.
By the time Ichigo was close to fourteen his official files had been updated and he’d been registered as a Null.
Someone frozen between alpha and omega, genetically incapable of becoming a beta but also unable to slide into either of the other gender expressions without outside interference. Technically and hormonally agender on the secondary scale.
Isshin had been disappointed and immediately started talking about hormone treatments and therapies. About finding a nice omega for Ichigo to mate when he got older, someone with the right hormonal tones that would kickstart his body and push him into official alpha-hood.
Most of the kids at school and more than one teacher had all seemed unsettled with his status. Unsure how to handle someone who didn’t fit neatly into any of the boxes they’d long since become used to.
But Ichigo had not, and for the most part still did not, actually care.
His secondary gender, or lack thereof, didn’t actually impact his life. It didn’t impact his ability to fight or his grades, didn’t make him any better or worse at taking care of the twins.
So to Ichigo, it had always been a non-issue.
But then Rukia had come crashing into his life and once again everything had changed.
~~~
Ichigo fought monsters and dead men and would-be gods.
Hollows and Shinigami. Arrancar and Aizen. Fullbringers and Quincies.
He trained and bled and ripped his very soul to pieces to protect what was his and to finish wars that were not.
Ichigo cut through any and everything that stood in his way, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much he had to bleed to do so.
No matter how lonely he ended up at the end of the day.
And, in the end, all Ichigo really got was an emptiness that didn’t go away even after his powers were returned and the heavy weight of expectations he didn’t want heaped onto his shoulders.
~~~
“You need to hurry up and mate Inoue-chan, Ichigo,” Isshin practically orders on one of the rare nights all four of them are gathered around the table for dinner. “Pretty little omega like that? She’ll finally make a real alpha out of you.”
Ichigo just hunches down over his plate and tries to concentrate on not snapping his chopsticks in half.
It’s not like this is the first time Isshin’s said something like this.
Hell, it’s not like Isshin’s the only person who’s said something along these lines.
Nowadays, since everything has settled down, practically everyone he knows seems to expect Ichigo to mate Orihime in the near future and finally be jump-started into true alpha-hood.
It’s annoying and insulting to both him and Orihime in Ichigo’s opinion.
Like that’s all she’s good for, being omega enough to be the key to him finally sliding into a set dynamic.
Like he owes her more than friendship, more than the blood they’ve both shed for each other.
Or like now, after everything he’s done and lived through, his secondary gender still somehow actually matters.
Like either of them deserve to be trapped in a relationship Ichigo knows will never be equal on an emotional scale.
Like anyone but Ichigo has the right to decide who and what he should be.
~~~
Honestly, when Ichigo really stops to think about it now, it’s infuriating as well as kind of funny in a twisted sort of way.
Because here’s the thing that no one seems to know.
Here’s the secret Ichigo’s been keeping since the moment his powers returned, if only because no one has bothered to actually ask him.
Ichigo doesn’t actually want to be an alpha.
~~~
With one hand clenched in the loose fabric of his bedsheet and his face buried in his pillow, Ichigo can’t help the way he writhes.
Can’t help the way his back arches, spine flexing and thighs trembling as he grinds back down, rutting against his mattress in short, sharp, almost angry jerks.
Ichigo has practically jerked himself almost raw by this point, has fingerfucked himself until his cunt feels puffy and oversensitive. He’s worked himself over for what feels like hours now, his moans and snarls muffled in his pillow and lube and sweat practically soaking his sheets as he tries to find some kind of relief.
It’s enough to drive him insane.
Because it doesn’t help, doesn’t even begin to calm the clawing, aching, burning thing living inside of him.
Nothing does.
Instead, all it does is wind him tighter, making his breath hitch and his cock throb harder, skin practically aching to be touched.
Because it’s not enough.
It’s not what or who Ichigo actually wants.
He doesn’t want his own hands working at his cock, doesn’t want his own spit-slick or lube-drenched fingers pressing at his holes or the maddening scratch of familiar cotton sheets against his skin.
No.
None of that is what Ichigo wants.
Ichigo wants …
Ichigo needs …
Broad shoulders, shadowed stormy-sky grey eyes, clever fingers and a barely-there smile.
Yes.
Ichigo practically hisses as the image flashes across his mind’s eye, every bit of him scrambling after and then latching onto that thought.
The fantasy of it all unfolds in Ichigo’s head seconds later, like it’s something that’s been lurking in the depths of him just waiting to surface.
Something he’s been thinking about, been craving, even back when he wouldn’t, couldn’t, admit it to himself.
“Kisuke,” Ichigo whines into his pillow, formalities and nicknames and pretending all stripped away by the searing want clawing down his spine.
He can practically feel the heat of a long-fingered hand running confidently down his back, short nails raking down his spine and strong fingers digging into his hips. Finding all the hidden, sensitive places no one but Ichigo has ever touched.
Kisuke would touch him like that. Ichigo knows he would.
His hands would move across Ichigo’s body with that steady sort of confidence and skill that’s always grabbed Ichigo’s attention in the past. Mapping out Ichigo’s body one studious touch at a time like he owns it.
Kisuke would know how to handle Ichigo and all that he is, would be able to use him and direct him like he does the tools in his lab or his beloved Benihime.
Ichigo would be able to trust him with that, would be able to relax into a hand fisted in his hair, would be free to let the matcha-copper-salt scent of Kisuke flood over his senses and settle on the back of his tongue.
Kisuke would know just how to fuck him, Ichigo’s sure of it.
Would know how to take him apart piece by piece, forcing Ichigo to surrender to the bite of Kisuke’s teeth, to the press of his tongue and the thrust of his cock.
Kisuke would know when Ichigo wanted it steady and deep or when he needed it to be hard and brutal with that edge of pain, that hint of blood and sweet hurt some soul-deep part of him seems to crave these days.
Ichigo can’t help the way he ruts down harder against his mattress at the thought. At the way he can almost feel the press of familiar reiatsu sliding across his senses like bladed silk. Smooth and controlled but able to cut and bite whenever needed.
All elegant precision and delicious brutality by turns.
Like Kisuke himself, down past all the pretenses and the masks, down in that core of true self that he lets Ichigo glimpse from time to time.
Kisuke could give him all of that, Ichigo just knows he could.
Could press Ichigo down onto his belly, could fit his teeth against the nape of Ichigo’s neck as he forced his cock so deep inside of Ichigo’s body that he’d have no choice but to submit.
Kisuke could knot Ichigo up so good it’d ruin him for anyone else, could split him open and leave him reeking of their mating for days afterward.
A claim and a warning for any and everyone who might still have ideas about Ichigo.
Kisuke could get rid of all of that for Ichigo, could erase all those worries and irritations.
Could fuck him deep and hard and fill him up to the brim with so much cum Ichigo would slide right into being a real omega.
Kisuke could breed him. Split his freshly slicked omega cunt open and pump it full. Could hold Ichigo down and fuck himself a place right there beneath Ichigo’s skin.
And Ichigo …
Ichigo would let him.
He’d present for Kisuke in all ways, would kneel and spread himself open for the taking. He’d take whatever Kisuke gave him, would take it over and over again until all Ichigo could do is clench and cry and try to keep it in.
Ichigo knows that he might moan and whine in the process but he’d do his very best to be so good, such a good boy, such a perfect, sweet omega for his new alpha to fuck and breed full.
That last thought is enough to finally send Ichigo hurtling over the edge, cock jerking as he cums against his sheets, warbling whine muffled by his pillow as his entire body spasms.
Sweat-soaked and exhausted, Ichigo collapses down onto his bed, body relaxing as that clawing need and want that’s been riding him so high and tight finally begins to ebb.
He still aches though, still wants, still has this yawning emptiness inside of him that he can’t seem to touch, but at least he’s managed to take the edge off a bit.
For now.
~~~
The thing about Shinigami is that they are all, technically, Voids.
No secondary gender for any of them to worry about at all.
It’s something that, in Ichigo’s opinion, makes perfect sense given the nature of their existence.
But it also, unfortunately, means that outside of his fantasies Kisuke could never actually mate him properly.
And yet that doesn’t actually make Ichigo want him any less.
Ichigo would take all that Kisuke might ever be willing to give him either way.
Even if he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to bring himself to actually ask for it.
~~~
“Ah, Ichigo-kun, welcome back,” Kisuke calls to him when Ichigo slides into the Shōten the next afternoon.
He is, for some reason, actually wearing a gigai this afternoon. Something Ichigo has noticed he generally avoids doing unless necessary.
Ichigo bites back the small shiver that always seems to trace down his spine at the relaxed form of address that’s finally become the norm between them.
He likes his name in Kisuke’s mouth, even if he does his best not to show it.
“Geta-bōshi,” Ichigo greets even as he sweeps by Kisuke and directly towards the kitchen, intent on at least making tea and snacks. “Any reason you’re all dressed up and playing human today?”
“Oh,” Kisuke says lightly, eyes crinkled in a slight smile, “just a bit of business to handle.”
With Tessai once more back in the Seireitei and running the Kidō Corps, Ichigo has practically laid claim over the Shōten’s kitchen. He’s taken to stopping by almost every day to make sure Kisuke hasn’t died in his lab or set anything important on fire.
Plus it eases something inside of Ichigo to come here like he does. The Shōten feels soothing against his senses now that Isshin’s house doesn’t feel much like home these days. Especially since the twins are both older and more independent than they used to be.
Yuzu settling as a soft-spoken alpha and Karin as a brash beta has made both of them less indulgent towards his own brand of gruff hovering and care.
Ichigo still loves them of course, would still break worlds in half for both of them in a heartbeat, but there’s a space there that didn’t use to exist. A space that, Ichigo has to admit now, seems to have been good for the girls even if it had hurt in the beginning.
He’s taken to spending the majority of his free time out of Isshin’s house, either taking odd jobs from Unagiya or puttering around the Shōten to compensate.
This way the twins have more room to grow and settle without him hovering and Ichigo gets to spend more time away from Isshin which is always a plus.
Plus he also gets to spend more time with Kisuke who always seems pleased to see him, always greeting him warmly and willingly spending time out of his lab to hover in Ichigo’s space as he cooks.
“Anything serious?” Ichigo asks as he flicks the stove on and then moves to pull the tea things from the cabinet and arrange them on the counter.
“Just a … territory dispute of sorts,” Kisuke tells him easily, eyes crinkled in a smile and fan slipping out of his sleeve. “Some people just don’t know better than to encroach on things that don’t belong to them. I suspect it’ll be handled soon enough either way.”
“I bet,” Ichigo hums, sliding around Kisuke to prepare the rice cooker he’d bought a few weeks ago. “Can’t imagine you letting someone move in on what’s yours.”
“You do know me so very well, Ichigo-kun,” Kisuke hums, fan tapping against his lower lip.
For a moment there’s nothing but warm and comfortable silence between them. The kind of welcoming atmosphere Ichigo has grown to cherish. Something he thinks he’s been missing for a very long time now and has somehow been lucky enough to find again here with this man.
“Isshin stopped by this morning,” Kisuke finally says lightly from where he’s leaning against the counter beside Ichigo, one hand slowly fanning himself.
Ichigo stills, hands pressing flat against the counter as he deliberately doesn’t look in Kisuke’s direction. He forces himself to breathe deeply for a moment or two.
“He doesn’t normally come by,” he finally says. “What’d he want this time?”
“Hm,” Kisuke hums lightly. “To boast mostly. He seems convinced you’re days away from mating Inoue-chan and giving him a passel of grandpups.”
“Of course he is,” Ichigo grits even as he bites back an irritated groan.
“So,” Kisuke drawls just a bit, voice taking on a teasing lilt, “will we be going to the Temple soon to seek a blessing for the happy couple?”
“No,” Ichigo bites out. “I’m not mating Orihime.”
“Why not?” Kisuke asks lightly. “She’s a sweet girl, beautiful and talented as well. And she obviously cares for you a great deal.”
“Orihime’s great,” Ichigo agrees through gritted teeth because, lingering feelings of abandonment or hurt aside and no matter the distance there might be in their friendship these days, she really is a wonderful person.
Anyone would be lucky to mate her. But that person is never going to be Ichigo.
“She’d even kickstart that latent biology of yours,” Kisuke points out slyly. “Give you the rush of bonding hormones you need to finally be a presented alpha.”
And that?
That’s officially the last straw for Ichigo.
Because most everyone else in his life might have been saying the exact same thing for well over a year now but this time it’s different.
This time it’s Kisuke saying this shit to him.
The one person in all the worlds that Ichigo …
“Well,” Ichigo practically hisses, hands clenched around the counter hard enough that the wood begins to creak, “maybe I don’t want to mate Orihime no matter how good she is. Maybe I don’t care how she feels about me.”
Ichigo reaches over to slap the off button for the burner before he pushes himself away from the counter completely and whirls to face Kisuke head-on.
“Maybe,” Ichigo spits, body feeling too tight for his soul as his temper rises, “I don’t care what everyone else thinks about my biology either. Maybe I don’t even want to be an al- ”
Ichigo cuts himself off, suddenly aware of what he’d been about to say, about to admit outright to someone else for the first time ever.
The silence hangs thick and heavy between them then.
“Well,” Kisuke finally says, voice soft but lined with something almost dark, “I suppose that makes this all a great deal easier then.”
“What?” Ichigo asks, confusion blossoming to life inside of him.
But Kisuke doesn’t answer him.
Instead he moves.
Ichigo goes from standing by the stove to splayed out on the low table, his legs kicked open to make room for Kisuke to hover above him.
“Look at you,” Kisuke hums, one of his hands wrapped firmly around Ichigo’s throat, thumb stroking lightly over his skin.
The way those strong, deadly fingers flex against the vulnerable length of his throat makes Ichigo want to shudder. Makes a part of him want to whine.
“Geta-bōshi,” Ichigo rasps, teeth showing in a reflexive snarl, “what the fuck? ”
But, perhaps most tellingly of all, Ichigo stays where Kisuke put him.
Sprawled on the table, a hand on his throat and his soft underbelly vulnerable and exposed, Ichigo doesn’t even think to struggle.
“You know,” Kisuke says lightly, almost casually, even as his thumb presses down against Ichigo’s pulse point, “I’ve been working on this particular gigai for quite some time now. It took a great deal more delicate work than my normal models do. Getting the reiryoku to hormone and pheromone connections just right proved to be particularly bothersome. But I needed it to be perfect so it was well worth the effort.”
Kisuke crowds even further into his space, his free hand reaching down to grab Ichigo by the hip. An easy flex of strength has Ichigo’s breath hitching as he slides down the surface of the table until his ass is resting right on the edge.
“If everything wasn’t just right then my plan couldn’t be brought to fruition,” Kisuke tells him, the hand on Ichigo’s hip trailing up his side, skittering over his ribs and across his chest until Kisuke has both hands wrapped firmly around Ichigo’s throat. “I’d have to start over, try again. Or carry on from a less than optimal position. It would have left too much to chance for my taste.”
Ichigo can’t help the way he shifts beneath Kisuke, hips twitching up off the table once before a pointed warning squeeze to his throat settles him right back down.
“But I finished it just last night,” Kisuke keeps going. “And I admit to being … eager to show you my work. So I slipped inside and went to Isshin’s house. And do you know what I saw?”
Ichigo feels the heat rush to his face, feels the way he instantly goes half-hard, cock thickening in his pants almost embarrassingly fast, as soon as he understands just what Kisuke must be referring to.
Just what Kisuke had apparently caught him doing last night.
A part of Ichigo can’t help but wish he’d actually known Kisuke was there the night before.
Maybe, half out of his mind as he’d been, he would have had the courage to actually invite Kisuke inside.
Or, at the very least, Ichigo knows he would have cum quicker and harder than ever before just knowing Kisuke was watching him.
“You looked so good like that,” Kisuke tells him, eyes dark and sharp as he shifts enough to press his hips against Ichigo’s own. The feel of the line of Kisuke’s cock pressing against his hip makes Ichigo’s breath hitch. “Stretched out and obviously aching to be filled up. Rutting around in your childhood bed. So lost you didn’t even notice me there outside your window, watching you whine and moan like a bitch in heat. And then I heard you say my name.”
Ichigo doesn’t have enough time for more embarrassment to settle in at that revelation before Kisuke keeps going.
“It took all the restrain Onmitsukidō beat into me not to slip inside your room,” Kisuke admits with a deceptive sort of lightness even as his hips twist, grinding down against Ichigo’s own. “Knowing you wanted me, knowing it was me you were thinking about while you were desperate and whining. It took all I had to keep from pinning you down and fucking you open right then and there. Making you take my cock until you cried on it. Until you begged.”
Ichigo can imagine how he would have felt if that had happened. If Kisuke had slipped into his room last night with no warning, had held him down and fucked him just like he’d been imagining.
He’d wanted that last night and he wants it just as bad right now. Wants it so bad he can almost taste it.
“I had to leave right after I watched you cum all on your sheets,” Kisuke tells him. “Had to come back here to keep from climbing on top of you and putting my teeth in your throat. I told myself it’s because I wanted to do things the right way for once in my existence. That you of all people deserved better from me.”
The hands around Ichigo’s throat flex again, nails biting into his skin. Ichigo’s head tilts back just a bit, pressing into the sensation instead of away.
“And then,” Kisuke’s voice takes on that dark note again, “this morning Isshin shows up here, steps into our home, and starts bragging about you and Inoue-chan. Calling you an alpha, talking about you two mating. About you breeding her.”
Kisuke presses him down harder against the surface of the table, leans down until he’s practically speaking directly against Ichigo’s lips.
There’s a vicious sort of sharpness in those eyes that Ichigo’s only seen on rare occasions and never directed towards him.
“I saw him out and was halfway to her apartment before I realized bringing you her head wasn’t something I should do,” Kisuke whispers. “And then I thought about going back to your room, about seeing if you were still asleep. Stretched out and open from the night before. I could have been on you, been in you, before you realized I was there. You’d have woke up with me inside of you, fucking you open, making you mine.”
Ichigo groans, rough and low in the back of his throat, hips bucking up against Kisuke’s, shoulders grinding back into the thick wood below him.
That’s the exact kind of scenario that’s been haunting his fantasies for months now.
Hearing it echoed by Kisuke is enough to make his head spin.
“You should’ve,” Ichigo can’t help but say, hips attempting to shift and roll up into Kisuke’s, chasing that delicious friction from before. “Should’ve came inside, should’ve fucked me. Wouldn’t have stopped you.”
“No, you wouldn’t have fought me,” Kisuke agrees. “You’d have taken it like you were made for it instead. We both know that. But your body wouldn’t have been all you would have given me, Ichigo. And it’s never been the only thing I want from you. If I’d have gotten to you then you’d have given me a lot more than just that sweet cunt.”
One hand leaves Ichigo’s throat long enough for Kisuke to reach up towards his own neck. Ichigo can only watch as he peels a small, flesh-toned patch that Ichigo hadn’t noticed before off of his skin and tosses it aside.
The scent hits Ichigo like a blow in the next second.
Kisuke’s familiar matcha-copper-salt scent practically rolls out around them and layers itself across his senses like a physical thing.
But that’s not what gets to Ichigo.
No.
What has Ichigo twisting on the table, heart hammering in his chest and beath stuttering, is the undeniable scent of alpha that now hangs thick and heavy in the air around them.
“There you go,” Kisuke murmurs, one hand sliding up to fist itself in the thick of Ichigo’s hair. “Now you understand, don’t you? I built this body for you, Ichigo. Built it just so I could give you what we both know you really want, what I couldn’t give you as a Shinigami. A thick cock with a knot and enough alpha hormones to force your presentation at an accelerated pace.”
Kisuke shifts just a bit, head moving so he can run his tongue across the scent gland below the curve of Ichigo’s jaw.
Ichigo wants him to move further back, wants Kisuke to flip him over onto his stomach so that his nape is bare and ready to be marked.
Marked and mated like an omega.
“If I’d made it into your room either time I would have mated you the second I got inside of you,” Kisuke admits. “Wouldn’t have given you a choice either. Would’ve had you marked right then and there while you screamed and cried even if you killed me for it later.”
Kisuke’s mouth is slanted on his then. His tongue slides into Ichigo’s mouth like it’s his right to press himself inside of Ichigo in every way he can manage and this is just the beginning.
All Ichigo can do is try and kiss him back, sloppy and inexperienced and twice as desperate.
“But you’re going to let me do that now aren’t you, Ichigo?” Kisuke says once he pulls back, leaving Ichigo panting and open-mouthed beneath him. “You’re going to let me fuck whatever alpha potential you have in you right out. You’re going to let me fuck you until you slick for me. Until I make you a real omega just like we both know you’ve always wanted to be.”
Ichigo feels light-headed, that clawing, burning, ache from the night before reignited beneath his skin.
“Let me be your alpha, Ichigo,” Kisuke whispers as he leans down and nips sharply at Ichigo’s bottom lip. “I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. All you have to do is say yes.”
And Ichigo …
Ichigo keens.
Tilts his head to one side as best he can.
Submits.
~~~
Kisuke practically drags Ichigo to his bedroom, one hand still fisted in the shaggy fall of Ichigo’s hair hard enough to sting in just the right way.
Ichigo goes willingly enough, chest heaving and entire body flushed.
He feels like he’s teetering on the edge of something, feels like he could cum without Kisuke ever actually touching him.
The door to Kisuke’s room slides shut behind them with a snap and Ichigo feels it when the barrier snaps into place.
“No interruptions allowed,” Kisuke tells him even as he steers Ichigo towards the unexpectedly plush-looking futon that Ichigo knows has to be new. He’d cleaned up in here just a few days before and it wasn’t there.
Ichigo has to admit that the idea of Kisuke preparing this room with its hair-raising strong barrier and its thick, luxurious futon and stacks of silk pillows, just makes him hotter.
Kisuke had not only built himself an alpha gigai just to give Ichigo what he wants, what only Kisuke had realized Ichigo has been craving, but he’d also done what he could to provide a comfortable space for them to mate in.
Ichigo isn’t even a real omega yet and Kisuke, new to the rush of alpha hormones and instincts Ichigo’s sure he’s feeling, has denned for him.
The hand still wrapped in his hair presses Ichigo down until he’s kneeling on the tatami just beside the futon. Kisuke’s hands are on him in the next second, grabbing at the collar of his shirt and tugging at it until Ichigo lifts his arms enough for it to be stripped off of him.
Ichigo takes the initiative to reach down and unbutton his jeans but a hand burying itself in his hair and jerking sharply stops him.
“Not so fast,” Kisuke chides him lowly before he drops down onto his knees as well, crowding so far into Ichigo’s space that he overbalances and falls forward until he’s half on the futon, upper body supported on his elbows.
“Perfect,” Kisuke praises, skimming his hand up the bare length of Ichigo’s spine as he grips his waist with the other, crowding close enough that his hips are pressed snug against the curve of Ichigo’s ass.
Ichigo can’t fight the shiver that works its way through his body at the praise. That’s what he wants, what he’s craved and ached to have for so long now.
Kisuke telling him how good he is for something that doesn’t involve death and war.
“You’ve been so good for me so far,” Kisuke tells him as he rocks his hips against the swell of Ichigo’s ass. “So sweet and pliable. You deserve a reward, something to take the edge off.”
The hand smoothing up and down his back slides up until the nape of Ichigo’s neck is caught firmly in Kisuke’s grip. The hand on his waist slides around until Kisuke is cupping the bulge of Ichigo’s cock in his palm.
Ichigo does his best to press back and into both of those hands, chasing the sensations they give him.
“I think I want the first one to be just like this,” Kisuke says as he tightens his grip on Ichigo’s cock, hips thrusting forward even harder than before, perfectly balanced and in control despite the slight stretch. “I want to see you cum all over yourself, so sloppy and desperate you can’t even wait to be undressed.”
Ichigo flushes deeper in one part eagerness and one part a delicious sort of humiliation at the picture Kisuke’s painting.
He’s been almost embarrassingly hard since shortly after Kisuke first put him on the kitchen table. Cumming in his jeans isn’t going to take long.
Not with the way Kisuke is pounding against his ass, one hand tugging at his hair and the other squeezing his cock rhythmically.
But, in the end, it’s the feel of Kisuke’s teeth against his shoulder blade that sends Ichigo over the edge, has him cumming inside his jeans just like Kisuke told him he would.
“What a wonderful start,” Kisuke practically purrs, hand still massaging Ichigo’s cock even as he squirms from oversensitivity. “But now we need to get to the real work don’t we?”
Ichigo finds himself on his back on the futon, legs sprawled open and chest heaving, almost before he registers Kisuke is moving them again.
Kisuke trails his hands up across Ichigo’s abs, nails dragging across the skin there hard enough to leave faint red marks and make Ichigo hiss.
When Kisuke leans down to kiss him again Ichigo comes up onto his elbows again, eager to meet him halfway.
“Once we start I’m not going to stop,” Kisuke tells him when he finally pulls back again, hands moving down to finally pop the fly on Ichigo’s jeans and help him shimmy out of them and the damp clinging mess he’s made of his underwear.
“I don’t want you to,” Ichigo admits, legs splaying open even further, face flushed but any real shame nowhere to be found. Instead he feels relaxed and more than a bit floaty, feels liquid-spined and settled for once.
“I’m going to fuck you until you slick for me,” Kisuke echoes his earlier promise but this time it sounds more like a warning. “I’m not going to stop even if you pass out, even when you’re whining and crying. I’m going to make sure it takes.”
Fondness and a certain sort of hot anticipation well up inside of Ichigo then with a force that takes him momentarily by surprise.
He reaches up and fists his hands in the lapel of Kisuke’s soft cotton yukata.
“Kisuke,” Ichigo says as he tugs him down until their noses are brushing. “Do. Your. Worst.”
The smile he gets in return is far more predatory than anything he’s ever seen Kisuke wear in the past.
~~~
Ichigo whines into the pillow, hands clenched in the sheet as he rocks back into the feel of Kisuke mercilessly fingerfucking him.
“Pretty soon you’ll be able to do this all on your own,” Kisuke tells him, slick fingers screwing even deeper into Ichigo’s cunt. “Isn’t that nice, Ichigo? Knowing you’ll be able to slick up and take me anytime?”
Ichigo shudders at the thought, at the idea of being able to get so wet and open all on his own without the need for lube. Of all the ways and places Kisuke could take him like that.
“Think I’ll still do this regularly though,” Kisuke muses. “You look so good like this, rocking back on my fingers, desperate for more. I can’t wait to see what you’ll look like during a real heat.”
“More,” Ichigo begs, nerves on fire and desperation riding him hard as he squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck. Kisuke, please.”
“Oh love,” Kisuke hums, “of course I’ll give you more. Now and always.”
The sudden loss of Kisuke’s fingers makes Ichigo groan in disappointment, hating the empty sort of ache he’s left with.
He’s once again sprawled out across the futon on his back in the next second though as Kisuke reaches up and grabs his chin, smearing lube across his jawline.
“Look at me,” Kisuke orders, as serious now as he’d been when all of this had started, as that hand moves down to wrap around Ichigo’s throat again. “I want to see your face when you take cock for the first time.”
Ichigo finds himself caught in that stormy-sky gaze but as Kisuke pushes into him he can’t help the way his mouth gapes open just a bit and his eyes try to flutter shut. Can’t help but try to buck into the sensation, body trying to take more of Kisuke into him all at once.
“Behave,” Kisuke shakes him just a bit as he fucks Ichigo open inch by slow inch. “You’ll get what you want but only when I give it to you.”
It’s torturous in the best kind of way, feeling Kisuke sink into him so slowly. It’s everything Ichigo could never get on the nights when he’d ride his own hand and think of what it’d be like to have Kisuke take him apart like this.
The hissing breath Kisuke takes when he finally bottoms out is a reward all on its own. Even more proof that for all his iron control this really is impacting him just like it is Ichigo.
“You’re taking it so good,” Kisuke praises, sending that same flush of warmth right down Ichigo’s spine and then doubling it when he pulls back and thrusts back in. “Knew you would.”
It feels so good but at the same time Ichigo just wants more. And he’s willing to do a lot to get it.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Ichigo pants out. “Was expecting more.”
“That mouth of yours,” Kisuke huffs, the hand on Ichigo’s throat tightening sharply. “I’ll put it to better use later.”
And then Kisuke pulls him up by the neck and kisses him again just as he thrusts deep.
Ichigo’s eyes roll back, his entire body clenching as pleasure arcs down his spine. His hands come up to clamp down on Kisuke’s shoulders, legs kicking for a second before Kisuke drops him back down onto the futon and follows him down.
Kisuke fucks him at a steady, toe-curling pace, bitting sharp kisses across his jawline and collar bone that sting and make Ichigo ache for more.
“You feel so good,” Kisuke breathes into his ear as he fucks him open, ruining him one thrust at a time. “Everything about you is so good, Ichigo. So perfect for me.”
Ichigo’s gone in the next second, body locking up as he cums, the praise too much for him to handle alongside everything else.
But Kisuke doesn’t stop.
Just like he promised earlier he fucks Ichigo right through his orgasm without pausing, uncaring of the way Ichigo squirms with the aftershocks.
“Ready for your first knot now?” Kisuke asks, breathing gone ragged and eyes just a bit wild.
Ichigo can feel it then too, that slight hint of resistance as Kisuke fucks into him. His hands clench down on Kisuke’s shoulders so hard he’s sure he’ll be leaving bruises of his own on the man.
“Yes,” Ichigo hisses, overwhelmed but eager for more, for everything. For what this means for him. For them.
Kisuke flips him again then, breaking Ichigo’s hold on his shoulders and moving one of his legs up and over so he can put Ichigo on his knees.
Kisuke’s pace picks up, strokes going deeper and harder than before, hips pounding against the curve of Ichigo’s ass. His rhythm turns punishing as he works his quickly filling knot in and out of Ichigo’s soaked cunt.
It hurts, even with the way Kisuke had stretched him before, even with the way he’s been fucking him so deeply. It’s a burning kind of ache that makes something in Ichigo sit up and take notice.
Kisuke groans, low and hoarse, in his ear and Ichigo feels it when his knot pushes all the way inside his cunt and finally catches.
Kisuke strikes at the same moment, teeth latching onto the nape of Ichigo’s neck and biting down ruthlessly.
And Ichigo howls.
The combination of being knotted and marked at the same time is almost too much.
Ichigo’s hurtling over the edge again almost without even realizing it, cumming hot and hard across the futon even as he clamps down around Kisuke’s knot even tighter than before.
He’s pretty sure he blacks out for a few seconds because the next thing he processes is the way Kisuke’s still slowly rocking into him. He’s practically crooning soft praise in his ear and stroking his hands across any bit of Ichigo he can reach.
“So good, Ichigo, you’re so good,” Kisuke praises even as his cock twitches in Ichigo’s cunt, filling him up with stream after stream of thick alpha cum. “You’re doing so well for me. Taking it so well. You really were made for this.”
The heady scent of alpha seems to thicken in the air around them, overwhelming everything else until all Ichigo can see and scent and feel is Kisuke.
For the first time in longer than Ichigo can remember he feels safe.
“Now,” Kisuke finally says once Ichigo’s able to focus just a bit, “again.”
~~~
It doesn’t take long for Ichigo to lose track of everything but the thrust of Kisuke’s cock inside of him.
Doesn’t take long for him to practically drown under the constant waves of sensation washing over him as Kisuke barely waits for his knot to deflate before he’s back to fucking Ichigo full again.
Over and over.
Each time it gets a bit easier, Ichigo’s body slick with sweat and his cunt dripping with so much of Kisuke’s cum that more lube isn’t even necessary.
And each time Kisuke knots him Ichigo feels the fire under his skin flicker just a bit higher as a little more of his attention gets eaten away.
~~~
Kisuke gives him water sometime in the middle of it all.
He holds Ichigo’s head up tenderly and gives him slow sips from one of the bottles Ichigo had barely noticed settled off to the side of the futon.
And then he puts Ichigo on his knees, fists a hand in his hair, and fucks his throat raw.
“Told you I’d put it to better use,” Kisuke teases as he pulls Ichigo even closer, forcing him to take even more of his cock down his throat. “Now make sure you swallow it all.”
Ichigo’s lashes flutter as his vision greys out a bit around the edges and his cunt clenches longingly around nothing.
Kisuke is thick and hot in his mouth and yet some deep part of Ichigo still feels so empty.
~~~
“I bet they’re missing you by now,” Kisuke pants into Ichigo’s ear as he fucks him again. “Doesn’t matter. You’re not leaving this room until I’ve had you in every way imaginable. And then it’ll be too late for any of them to interfere.”
Ichigo, spit slick face pressed into the tatami mat and arms pinned above his head, just whines.
~~~
Ichigo actually does pass out at some point, senses fried and body overwhelmed with sensation.
He wakes with his nipples red and puffy, and Kisuke’s head buried between his thighs, tongue lapping at his cunt and fingers working deep inside of him.
Ichigo moans, one hand flying down to press against the back of Kisuke’s head. His fingers fist in surprisingly silky strands as he shudders, hips bucking upwards.
Every pass of Kisuke’s tongue is electrifying but at the same time it just isn’t enough.
Ichigo wants something inside of him instead. Wants something bigger than Kisuke's tongue and thicker than his fingers.
Wants to be pressed down beneath Kisuke’s body and split open on Kisuke’s fat knot again.
“Look,” Kisuke pulls back and calls for his attention as soon as he realizes Ichigo’s awake again.
The hand he holds up between them is drenched with fluids, strings of clear slick connecting his fingers.
“You’re gushing Ichigo,” Kisuke tells him, face wet, mouth stretched into a grin, and pupils blown wide. “You slicked up so well for me just like I said you would.”
When Kisuke reaches up and presses his slick fingers against Ichigo’s mouth all Ichigo can do is tongue at them, tasting his own juices for the first time. Salt and musk and something else, something almost sweet.
“It took,” Kisuke practically preens, undeniably smug as he crawls his way up Ichigo’s body, hands pushing Ichigo’s thighs even further apart as he settles down between them. “But let me make sure.”
Kisuke doesn’t give him any warning, doesn’t give him a chance to brace or prepare. Instead he just shoves inside, sliding deep with one forceful thrust.
“Alpha,” Ichigo pleads, the word practically torn from him as he thrashes, legs kicking and arms flailing as he bucks up against the cock splitting him open.
“Omega,” the reply comes quickly, Kisuke’s voice raspier than before. “My omega.”
By the time Kisuke puts him onto his stomach again Ichigo’s crying for it, face wet with tears and body shaking.
Ichigo’s never felt anything like this before. Even with all the ways Kisuke has already fucked him, split him open and made him shake apart, this is different.
This is more.
His senses are dialed up, his skin more sensitive than ever before and every bit of him yearns to be closer to Kisuke.
“Please,” Ichigo sobs. “Please. Please. Kisuke. Alpha. Please.”
“I have you,” Kisuke rasps back, voice lowered to a borderline growl. “You’re mine now. You’re mine. No one else will ever have you. Going to knot you again, omega. Breed you full just like you deserve.”
This time when Kisuke forces his knot back into Ichigo’s swollen cunt and sinks his teeth into the nape of Ichigo’s neck there’s nothing but devastating bliss.
Ichigo is finally a real omega at last and he’s been fucked and knotted and mated by the one person in all the worlds he’s ever really wanted.
He finally feels like he’s right where he belongs.
~~~
“Come on,” Kisuke urges him, one hand steady on Ichigo’s hip and the other urging him closer to the vulnerable line of Kisuke’s throat. “Give me your mark, Ichigo. Don’t you want to make sure no one can take me from you either?”
The very idea of someone else attempting to seduce Kisuke away from him pulls a red haze down over Ichigo’s eyes.
He strikes as quick as a snake, teeth sinking deep into the curve of Kisuke’s throat.
Kisuke hisses out a shaky breath as his hips buck upwards sharply, driving himself even deeper into Ichigo’s body.
Ichigo hums back lightly, satisfaction sitting smug and luxurious in the back of his mind.
Kisuke might have fucked Ichigo into a real omega, might have marked and mated every inch of him, but Ichigo’s not the only one owned in this relationship.
He’s mated Kisuke right back and he fully intends to hold onto him for the rest of their long forever.
~~~
“Perfect,” Kisuke praises, one hand fisted tightly in Ichigo’s hair, forcing his back into a sharp arch as his cock splits Ichigo’s soaked cunt open yet again. “Such a good omega, so sweet for me. So wet and hot while you swallow me down.”
Ichigo, fuck-drunk, spine filled with liquid fire and skin feeling fit to burst, just whines and takes it. Just stays there arched into Kisuke’s hold as he gets fucked ruthlessly, cunt a soaked, puffy mess and cock sore.
He doesn’t think he could cum again even if he wanted to.
But that’s okay, Ichigo’s more than content with this.
Is dizzy with the pleasure of being fucked in that deep and steady pace Kisuke so excels at, of letting Kisuke, his alpha, his mate, just use him.
“Come on,” Kisuke coaxes with a gentle and loving sort of cruelty that makes Ichigo’s heart flutter. “You’re doing so good, Ichigo. But you can give me some more. I know you can. You’re going to cum on my knot again because you’re a good omega who wants to give your alpha what he asks for. Because you’re perfect and you never disappoint me.”
And, well, if there’s one thing Ichigo’s always been known for it’s rising to meet impossible expectations.
“That’s it,” Kisuke praises even as he follows Ichigo down when he collapses forward onto the futon. “Good boy.”
Ichigo just twitches weakly as Kisuke bites fresh kisses across the line of his shoulders.
And then Kisuke turns his attentions to the still raw bite on the nape of Ichigo’s neck, tongue lapping at the skin before he sinks his teeth into the mating mark.
All Ichigo can do is moan brokenly even as Kisuke pulls back enough to lick at the reopened wound.
“The sounds you make,” Kisuke murmurs against the curve of Ichigo’s neck. “The look and smell of you. Cunt all fucked out and leaking. Maybe I should just keep you like this in the future. Would you like that?”
“Please,” Ichigo manages to whisper, not really sure himself if he’s agreeing or not at this point.
Not really caring either way.
The slow but deep thrust of Kisuke’s cock steals Ichigo’s breath away again, sends his thoughts scattering to the wind.
“And just think,” Kisuke hums even as he presses one of Ichigo’s legs up and to the side so that his cock reaches deeper into Ichigo’s tender insides, “I still need to push both of us out of these bodies so I can have you as our base selves as well. I’m going to write myself across your very soul.”
All Ichigo can do is clench his hand against the mattress below him and take what Kisuke gives him.
Luckily for Ichigo, it really is everything he’s ever wanted.
~~~
“I’m moving in,” Ichigo murmurs against the bare expanse of Kisuke’s chest.
Laying naked with Kisuke like this, relaxed and sated and feeling settled, is even better than Ichigo could have imagined.
“Are you now?” Kisuke hums, hand sliding up and down the length of Ichigo’s spine.
“Well,” Ichigo says dryly, “it’s either that or you move into my room in Isshin’s house and somehow I don’t think that’ll go over too well. So, take your pick.”
Kisuke huffs out a laugh and rolls them, laying Ichigo out on his back and settling himself on top.
“Ichigo,” Kisuke smiles down at him, arms bracketing Ichigo’s head, “you basically live here already.”
“True,” Ichigo admits, one hand coming up to run through Kisuke’s hair. “But now it’ll be official. Everyone’s gonna get one whiff of me and know the truth. Might even cause a few problems.”
“Well,” Kisuke says lightly, “come what may. I’m sure there’s nothing that the two of us can’t handle together.”
“You know what?” Ichigo’s fingers slide down to dance over the fresh bite mark on Kisuke’s neck. “I think you might just be right about that.”