“Wear this today!” Gin suggests cheerfully, holding up a shirt that Ichigo distinctly remembers wearing sometime last year and throwing out a few months ago because it was far too short, even for him. There’s a certain point where a man should stop showing his stomach, and the belly button was it.
Ichigo shakes his head. “Hell, no.”
“Of course not,” Sousuke says smoothly. “Because you’ll be wearing this.” Sousuke, in turn, holds up nothing more than a collar and chain.
Ichigo’s scowl deepens. “And that is a most emphatic no,” he retorts, ignoring both of them and the knowing smirk that curls Sousuke’s lips.
“Ah, Sousuke! I agree with you. Our Ichigo would look much better in that!” Gin says, and tosses Ichigo’s too-short shirt over his shoulder.
“I’m not going out in public in a collar,” Ichigo hisses, storming toward his closet.
Gin, however, has other plans, his long fingers hooking in the waistband of Ichigo’s boxers and pull him backward, Ichigo uttering an undignified squawk. He stumbles, falls back against Gin’s front, and feels long arms curl around him from behind. Gin nuzzles against his cheek, and Ichigo just knows that the silver-haired man is smirking.
“But ya’d look so good in one,” Gin purrs, turning his head to nibble at Ichigo’s ear with a warm mouth and wet tongue, enough to make Ichigo squirm.
“I don’t care,” Ichigo says. If they come toward him with that collar, fists will begin to fly. And quite possibly, Zangetsu. “I’m not your pet.”
There’s a jingling noise as Sousuke steps into view, still holding the dreaded collar. “Of course not,” he soothes in that silky-sweet voice that manipulates others so very well, but Ichigo’s too smart to fall for. “But Gin is right. You would look good in one.”
He steps closer, fingers trailing down the side of Ichigo’s face in a light caress. “We don’t have to go in public. We can play right here.”
Gin groans into Ichigo’s ear, his embrace tightening. “Please say yes,” he all but begs, and Ichigo can feel him getting harder, getting pulled into Sousuke’s usual web of lust.
Working his jaw, Ichigo glares. “We won’t leave the apartment?”
“I solemnly swear,” Sousuke says as Gin’s fingers start to stroke down Ichigo’s side. Which, of course, is when Ichigo knows he’s going to give in. Damn them both.