Shuuhei can honestly say that he’s never been in a situation quite like this before. He’s sure Kurosaki is somewhere behind the black-gold eyes, but right now Shuuhei is faced with something else.
A tongue slips out, licking lips in a rather lewd fashion that should terrify Shuuhei, but instead makes his stomach do a flip of interest and twist with heat. “Well, well, what ‘ave we here?” Kurosaki’s body rasps, and what did Renji call this alter ego? Shirosaki? “A pretty little Shinigami trussed up for the taking.”
Shuuhei works his jaw, wiggles a bit, but really, there’s no room. He’s effectively trapped beneath Kurosaki-turned-Hollow, and if he swallows too thickly, the blade pressed to his throat will bite further into his skin. He can already feel it teasing at his flesh, and there’s a trickle of blood down his throat. Also, his hands are trapped in Kurosaki’s – no, Shirosaki’s, he has to keep them straight – and for such a skinny brat, Shuuhei doesn’t think he can break the Hollow’s one-handed hold.
He wishes he could be terrified, but there’s something about the weight of the Hollow, the warmth and the lust that gleams in those black-gold eyes that makes Shuuhei not so much terrified as desperately aroused and really, isn’t that just the kicker? Renji would find this so amusing, he would, he’s always thought Shuuhei the most twisted of perverts, though that’s kind of a case of pot calling the kettle black. He’ll mock Shuuhei about it for days once he hears about it, providing Shuuhei lives long enough to tell the tale.
Shuuhei swallows, carefully mind, and looks up at the Hollow. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to convince you to let me go?”
Shirosaki chuckles, and one knee nudges Shuuhei’s groin, where his traitorous cock has risen to the occasion and betrayed him. “Doesn’t seem like all of you agrees with that request,” he says, and both brows lift as he leans down, warm tongue dragging wetly over Shuuhei’s cheek in a way that travels straight to his cock, making it throb against the faint pressure of Shirosaki’s knee.
He gasps, tilts his head back, and the zanpakutou blade bites a little deeper. It hurts in such a good way and that’s when Shuuhei knows he’s completely fucked, off his rocker. His sense of kink is going to get him killed, is what is going to happen.
“Nope,” Shirosaki says with a cheerful pop of his lips that shouldn’t be so erotic. He pulls back, draws the blade with him, and examines the drop of Shuuhei’s blood clinging to the edge. “Seems like you’re more interested in staying, doesn’t it?” And his tongue slides over the metal, lapping up the drop with a lewd lick that Shuuhei shouldn’t find arousing.
But he does anyway, and he groans, arching beneath the Hollow. Shirosaki chuckles in a Hollow’s voice, and Shuuhei is so dead. But oh, what a fuckin’ way to go.