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A Shadow of What Was	By : katami Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 49594 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 24
- 25
- 26
Author's Notes: We once more have yaoi, if this bothers you then get lost. This chapter is my baby and took forever to write so comments would be much appreciated. Thank you all for reading this story and many thanks to my brilliant beta for all her hard work.

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He was dreaming. No, he was remembering. But it was alright, his memories were where he was happy. Where they were together.

He had found Urahara sitting alone on the porch, staring up at the sky with a jug of sake at his elbow. He had been well on his way to emptying it and showed no signs of slowing. Yoruichi had returned to Soul Society just a few hours before to take up her old position and rank. Watching Urahara, it was hard to tell whether he was toasting her return or cursing her leaving.

"Urahara-san?" he murmured carefully, not sure why he was intruding on the blonde shopkeeper other than a simple feeling that Urahara could use a friend, or at least someone to talk to. That and his own curiosity about the man. He had known the blonde for nearly two years and Urahara was as much a mystery today as he had been the first time he'd met the man. Urahara was almost his teacher for god's sake and Ichigo barely knew him. The blonde hid behind ready smiles, that stupid hat of his, and that silly fan which he wielded like a weapon.

Staring at him there in the moonlight, cup in his hand, there was something terribly mortal and real about Urahara though. Something that fascinated Ichigo.

"Ah Kurosaki-kun, I am afraid I'm not much for company at the moment," joked the blonde, turning to give him a bright smile that Ichigo saw was just a shade too bright. And even the quick turn of his head and his idiotic hat couldn't hide the pain that flashed in those shadowed silver eyes.

Ichigo sat quietly, not saying anything but not leaving either and Urahara sighed, producing another cup and pouring him some sake. He took a sip and glanced at the older man, waiting for him to speak, but the blonde remained stubbornly silent, studying his cup with an intensity rarely seen. Urahara liked to play the fool but over the years Ichigo had caught enough glimpses of what lay beneath - a man who was brilliant, whose focus and intensity could overwhelm anything when he applied himself. This was the man staring into his sake and trying very hard to empty the bottle.

"I guess you're going to miss her, huh?" he asked, thinking the question asinine as it left his lips but unable to draw it back. Of course he was going to miss her, they had been friends forever and were probably far more, realized the redhead with a slight pang of regret. Neither Urahara nor Yoruichi had ever really said what they were to each other, but she had followed him into exile, that had to say enough. "I mean it must be hard for you guys with her there and you here," he said in a rush to try and fill the awkward silence.

Urahara poured himself another cup, chuckling softly, a sad, snorting little chuckle. "No. No, I learned my place long ago when it came to Yoruichi-sama," murmured Urahara, some ancient bitterness sounding in the words, causing Ichigo to stare at him. He had never heard bitterness from Urahara. In all the years he had known him, he had never heard him like this. Sad, hurt, lonely.

"You never wondered, Kurosaki-kun, about why my gate into Soul Society appears in the Rukongai?" The tone was cutting but the blade was not directed at him and Ichigo had to wonder how much the other man had had to drink and just what dark secrets might come spilling out with his tongue so loosened. This Urahara was both dark and dangerously appealing for his brutal and strange honesty.

"I was born there," Urahara plowed on. "In the 77th. A mongrel brat, but a genius brat and powerful to boot. I was one of the youngest to ever attend training and was the top of every class. Everything they taught came to me as easily as breathing." The fan emerged and Urahara was gesturing with it, cleverly drawing attention away from himself, trying to hide although it was far too late. "A brilliant mongrel brat was good enough for the exalted Shihouin heir to play with, but never to dally with. I believe I was twelve when I stole my first kiss from Yoruichi and oh so kindly had Jyuushiro sit me down the next day and explain that facts of who and what I was to me." The last bit was said in a bitter, stricken whisper and moonlight glittered off what looked like tears on the other man's cheeks.

Ichigo didn't think, didn't pause to consider, just moved, acted on instinct. He reached out and gently slipped Urahara's hat off, leaving the blonde blinking owlishly at him in a way that was utterly adorable. Startled grey eyes tracked his hand as he raised it to wipe away the tears. He expected his hand to be knocked away, or perhaps even lopped clean off; he didn't expect Urahara's eyes to sink closed or for the older man to lean into the soft caress with a tiny sigh.

Looking at him there, in the moonlight, his hat gone, and his face open and vulnerable it was impossible not to see how beautiful he was. Impossible not to be moved by the sadness on his face. He leaned forward slowly, bridging the distance between them, his eyes sliding closed as his lips brushed over Urahara's. Once. Twice. And then they held and he was kissing the older man. It was soft and sweet and achingly tender. Warm breath mingled with his and a soft whimpering plea from the back of the blonde's throat had Ichigo's heart racing. He had never imagined Urahara could be like this.

He groaned and slid his tongue into the blonde's mouth, tasting, as silver eyes blinked open and sword-calloused hands pushed him away. Ichigo went, sitting back, panting and staring at Urahara who was panting as well. "You should go, Ichigo," he whispered solemnly before his fan came up, hiding his face. "Wine has made fools of us both, Kurosaki-kun. Best to go and sleep it off." That last was delivered in a jovial tone that sounded forced, but Urahara was grinning once again. It wasn't a real grin though, it was the grin of a man who had seen Heaven and been turned away at the gate.

"Kisuke," he breathed, testing the other man's name on his tongue.

Urahara's head shot up and the fan fell away, startled grey eyes locking with his. "You should go," whispered Urahara. "Please Kurosaki-kun, just go."

He thought about leaving, about turning away from this. He didn�t want to, he realized. He didn�t want to give up this new facet of Urahara. "What if I don't want to?" he asked softly, reaching out to touch the blonde's cheek - only to have the other man flinch away. He cupped Urahara's face and brought his head back around, sealing their lips together in a soft, insistent kiss.

He knew the exact instant Urahara's resolve crumbled because the kiss went from insistent to incredible as Urahara turned all that focus onto him. An agile tongue traced his bottom lip before slipping into his mouth, making him moan. The kiss grew slow and gentle and deep, as if Urahara intended to map out every corner of his mouth or sear himself into Ichigo�s memory forever. No one had ever kissed him like that before, like they wanted to spend all night doing nothing more than tasting him.

Ichigo counted it as one of the single most erotic experiences of his life and also the most frustrating.

All he could think of as the blonde�s tongue thrust gently into his mouth was of Urahara thrusting into him with the same lazy skill. He groaned and tangled his fingers into silky blonde hair, deepening the kiss, and moaning softly in protest as Urahara pulled back.

"Be sure. Be very sure, Ichigo,� begged the blonde, his eyes both imploring him to go and entreating him to stay. Urahara wanted this, he realized. Want this as much as Ichigo did; but he was afraid. Thinking too much, thought Ichigo with a gentle smirk. He might never have gone much beyond heavy petting, but he knew what he wanted. He wanted this - wanted Urahara. No, wanted Kisuke. �I know want I want,� he told the blonde, tugging the older man back to him and kissing him hard and deep. Answer given. Urahara groaned and pushed him back, following him down and never once breaking their kiss. Long, nimble fingers tangled in his hair, holding his head in place as the blonde kissed him for all he was worth, Ichigo simply clinging to him and moaning encouragement. Not that Urahara seemed to need any. The blonde seemed intent on devouring him like a starving man.

Urahara spread out over him and Ichigo whined softly as a strong thigh pressed gently against his arousal. He rolled his hips upward, trying to get more pressure and groaned as Urahara settled more of his weight onto him. That amazing mouth left his to trace his jaw and Ichigo returned the favor, nipping and kissing the other man�s jaw, the tiniest hint of laughter escaping as the stubble on the other man�s chin tickled his lips.

Grey eyes stared at him in wonder before long fingers caressed his face. He could tell the blonde had wanted to say something right then, but he hadn�t. They had both stayed silent.

Urahara gently pulled his shirt off, soft touches grazing his abdomen and leaving Ichigo arching into the brushes of flesh on flesh, hoping for more. The older man chuckled and a sparkle lit his eyes, stealing the redhead�s breath. Sorrow might have made the blonde beautiful but joy made him exquisite.

Ichigo groaned encouragement and kissed the blonde enthusiastically as clever hands returned to his chest. Warm touches brushed over his torso, tracing the span of his shoulders, playing down his arms, across his pecs, along his ribs. The fingers toyed with his bellybutton and returned when they drew laughter. Mischief lit Urahara�s eyes and Ichigo knew the blonde was going to be tickling him forever. Oddly, the realization didn�t annoy him as much as he thought. In fact, he thought it might almost be fun.

He wrapped his arms around the older man and flipped them so he was on top, earning a surprised noise from Kisuke and making Ichigo grin. He tugged open the blonde�s shirt, letting his hands and eyes map the pale, smooth flesh. For a man who claimed to be allergic to work Urahara was surprisingly fit, but then he was always full of surprises.

Ichigo kissed and nibbled at his chest sucking at his nipples and delighting in the nails that scratched gently down his back. He learned that the blonde loved to have his collarbone kissed and that there was a faint, silvery scar just under his left pec, about six inches long. He learned that the blonde�s navel was ticklish and hearing Urahara giggle had made Ichigo�s inside�s melt. He was so beautiful, his pale skin gleaming in the moonlight, his eyes filled with passion, and a sweet, gentle smile on his lips...Ichigo almost thought he could love the other man after seeing him like this - open, vulnerable, happy.

Urahara rolled them so they laid side-by-side, before drawing him close and kissing him.

Ichigo never knew how long they laid there, kissing and touching, exploring each other. He only remembered the novelty and joy of experience - so unlike anything he�d ever done before.

He groaned soft encouragement into the other man�s neck when Kisuke�s touches finally moved below his waist. Skilled fingers opened his pants and slipped inside, petting the skin of his stomach before sliding lower, teasingly brushing his cock. Ichigo bit his lip at the too light touches, wanting more. The knowing, sensual smile Urahara gave him made him groan and attack the fastenings on the older man�s pants.

He tugged the blonde�s pants down to mid-thigh, chuckling as he realize Kisuke had neglected to wear any underwear - sensing it was a common occurrence. He was such a pervert, thought Ichigo fondly, his fingers closing around the blonde�s cock. Kisuke moaned and tugged Ichigo�s pants down, bringing their cocks together and stroking them both.

Ichigo bit his lip to stifle a whimper, wondering if it was possible to die of pleasure; because nothing in his life had ever felt as good as his cock sliding against Urahara�s. He ran a blunt nail over one of Kisuke�s nipples, earning a soft moan before latching onto the nub with his lips. �Gods, Ichigo,� gasped the blonde, his hand tightening around them both and drawing low whines from the backs of their throats.

�Want you,� he panted into the blonde�s chest, taking Urahara�s left hand, which had been holding his hip, and gently tugging it to his entrance.

�We...we shouldn�t...You�ll...regret,� whispered Urahara, although the hand he was using to stroke them both didn�t pause in its rhythm.

Ichigo drew himself away from the blonde�s chest and his torment of the other man�s nipples, meeting grey eyes squarely. �I want this,� he told the other man gently but firmly, a little surprised to find that he really did mean it. He wanted anything and everything the blonde would give him.

Kisuke stared at him for a long second before he groaned, grabbing his face and kissing him, his eyes seeming to promise that Ichigo wouldn�t regret trusting him. �Stay. Just stay,� ordered the blonde, the eagerness and uncertainty in his voice making Ichigo smile. The blonde was on his feet a second later, shunpo carrying him swiftly into the depths of the shop and back nearly instantly.

Ichjigo chuckled and dragged the older man back down to the haori he was lying on and eagerly kissed his neck. �So beautiful,� he whispered, nibbling Kisuke�s collarbone and earning a breathless sound of approval. �Fuck me, Kisuke.�

Urahara groaned, his hands tightening almost painfully on Ichigo�s hips before the soft scent of sandalwood filled the air. A moment later a slick hand closed around his cock, stroking him with a slow, easy rhythm while a single digit gently rubbed at his hole. Ichigo whined softly, his body trying to arch forward into the hand around his cock and back onto the finger at the same time. �Shh...just be patient,� soothed Kisuke, his finger slipping inside and making the redhead pant.

The finger moved slowly, teasing him and drawing soft whimpers of pleasure from him. All the while Urahara stroked his cock and whispered how beautiful he was, how hot, and tight, and how all he wanted to do was sink into him. �Kisuke,� he begged.

�Soon, baby, Soon,� soothed the blonde kissing him, his tongue moving in and out of Ichigo�s mouth in a subtle mimicry of his finger. A second finger slid in while they kissed and Ichigo gave a startled cry that was swallowed by their kiss. Those fingers twisted and moved inside him, stretching him and making him want more. He nearly screamed when they touched something inside him that made his body stiffen and his cock jump, fireworks going off in his brain.

Kisuke chuckled and nuzzled his cheek, smiling knowingly at him. �Just enjoy it,� purred the blonde, touching that place again, making Ichigo cling to him and bite his lip to try and stay quiet. He was going to come! He was!

He whimpered and tried to rock back onto those fingers, wanting them to touch that place again. Kisuke chuckled and twisted his fingers before stroking that spot. Ichigo stiffened and growled a denial as Urahara squeezed the base of his cock, jerking him back from the brink of his orgasm. �What the fuck! Kisuke!�

�Shh...just a second, love,� soothed Kisuke, kissing him gently, his fingers leaving Ichigo and drawing a whined protest from the younger man. The blonde nudged him onto his back, settling on top of him. Ichigo felt something larger rub against his entrance and moaned softly. It burned a little but Kisuke was kissing him and touching him and the feeling of that slick tongue playing with his and those slicked fingers stroking his cock easily chased away the pain. And then the blonde was fully inside him, clinging to him so fiercely, his eyes closed and his whole body straining. Ichigo moaned and tried to move, drawing a soft groan from the blonde and making him feel wickedly powerful.

He shifted again. �Gods, Ichigo!� whimpered Urahara, rolling his hips and making them both moan.

�More,� he demanded, trying to arch, to push the blonde deeper. Grey eyes shot open to stare at him, their depths molten silver and filled with heat. The blonde gently shifted inside him, sliding partway out before returning.

�Good?�

�Yes,� Ichigo hissed, feeling his Hollow shift subtly at the edge of his perception; but he shoved the other away. This was his!

Urahara nodded and began a slow rhythm of thrusts before hitting that place inside that made Ichigo buck and scream. It felt even better than the fingers and it was all he could do to clutch at the haori and not come right then and there. Kisuke chuckled and gently shifted Ichigo�s legs and thrusting back in. The younger man bit his lip and arched as that spot was stroked again. He grasped at Kisuke�s arms, tugging the older man forward and sealing their mouths together.

They moved against each other gasping and clutching at one another. Kisuke�s thrusts sped and his hand stroked Ichigo in time to his movements, driving the younger man wild. Ichigo thrashed burying a scream in the older man�s shoulder as he shuddered to completion. Kisuke gasped at the sudden pain and the clutching heat, following him with a muffled yelp.

The blonde slumped onto him with a tired sigh and Ichigo couldn�t help but smile, wrapping the older man in his arms and nuzzling his shoulder. Urahara turned his head and smiled at him - a sweet, happy smile - and kissed the tip of his nose before gently pulling away.

�Kisuke? Kisuke?� he whispered hazily, reaching out for the blonde, confused as his hand touched only air.

He blinked, his eyelids heavy, but needing to understand. Where was Kisuke? Urahara wouldn�t have left him alone - not after their first time. �Kisuke?� he called softly, something inside him growing cold.

He struggled to wake up, to drag his mind from the haze. Drugs, he realized numbly. He was drugged. Why was he drugged?

Memory returned with the force of a semi hitting him between the eyes.

Kisuke wasn�t there because he was dead. He was gone and Ichigo was all alone. He gasped. The pain hitting him hard and fast, stealing his breath and aching worse than any wound. �No...please no,� he begged the universe softly, tears beginning to fall. He curled tightly in upon himself, beginning to sob as Urahara�s loss rolled over him again, as fresh and real as it had been all those years ago.

He was still sobbing, when Yuzu came in. She touched his shoulder gently, clearly startled by his tears. �Ichi-nii?� she asked hesitantly.

�Please...please, you have to let me go to him,� he begged brokenly, staring up at her with bloodshot red eyes. �Please, Yuzu, please,� he entreated her, tugging at the inhibitor around his throat. For the first time in...he didn�t even know how long, he could sense Kisuke. And he had to go to him, to make sure he was okay. He couldn�t lay there with the memory of Urahara cold and dead - not and maintain his sanity.

Yuzu looked at him, her heart in her throat and tears welling in her eyes. �Oh, Ichi-nii,� she whispered softly, taking his hand between hers.

* * *

Author�s Notes: Three guesses what she does - and the first two don�t count.
- 24
- 25
- 26
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A Shadow of What Was