Bleach, Shinji/Aizen, getting too close
“Is this close enough, Aizen?” Hirako pants, hands fisting in dark brown hair.
Aizen stares up at the familiar mask and smiles and a second later they’re once more grappling in the dirt, each struggling to come out on top. This isn’t about swords or revenge or the Gotei 13; this is about them, and it’s about betrayal.
“Is this what you wanted, vice captain?”
Hirako can’t tear his eyes away from Aizen’s face, the would-be god meeting his golden gaze unflinchingly.
“You’re only a hundred years late, captain,” Aizen says, voice warm. He won’t lose to Hirako Shinji, ridiculous as ever in those absurd real world clothes. They suit him though, Aizen thinks. Some people never change.
“Shit,” Hirako curses suddenly, trying to roll away, but Aizen refuses to let him go and it becomes a different kind of struggle between them. “Never would have thought you liked it rough, Aizen,” snarls the blonde, much to Aizen’s amusement.
“I told you, didn’t I? You know nothing about me.” He rocks his hips a little, rubbing his cock against his former captain’s side and keeps smiling.
Hirako swears again and when his mask disappears, Aizen thinks it’s time to make his move, which is how he ends up with the sharp sting of teeth on his lower lip and the taste of blood in his mouth. Aizen lets himself moan a little. Hirako was right; he likes it rough.
“You sick fuck, you son of a bitch,” Shinji is saying, but then he’s kissing right back with teeth and tongue and the taste of Aizen’s blood in his mouth is something he thinks he’ll never get enough of.
When Aizen grabs his cock, Shinji bites again, but it only seems to encourage the dark haired man and Shinji thinks that maybe he can let that slide, if only because Aizen seems to know what he’s doing and it feels so damn good.
But when Aizen’s hands start fumbling with the zip, Hirako figures turn about is fair play and his free hand finds its way through Aizen’s robes to his hard cock. Aizen breaks the kiss to suck livid marks along Hirako’s neck.
“Too—many fucking—clothes, dammit,” Hirako says between breaths. He wants to feel Aizen’s skin up against his, close enough that they meld together, close enough that it becomes impossible to say where one ends and the other begins.
Aizen moans agreement and starts stripping out of his uniform. Hirako follows suit with his own clothes and then they’re together, skin on skin, sweat sticking them together and Hirako thinks it’s still not close never, can never be close enough. He reaches down between them and takes both their cocks in hand, running his thumb over the sensitive heads and smearing precome between them.
Aizen hisses, moans, and starts thrusting into Hirako’s hand. He needs this, he thinks, needs this closeness, this hatred between them. They’re almost too close, Aizen thinks for a moment, but then he’s coming all over their bellies and Shinji’s hand and stops thinking of anything at all.
He both feels and hears Hirako coming scant seconds after him, their breathing loud in the stillness of the aftermath.
Hirako rolls away from him finally and while they catch their breath Aizen is thinking about baths. He’s covered in dirt and come, but he’s fairly certain that there’s a genuine sated smile on his face, which is a little disconcerting in itself.
Hirako is on his back, breathing heavily still and waits for Aizen to notice his gaze and look over at him before saying anything. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Sousuke.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Aizen replies, and means it.