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Love Without Motive	By : debbiechan Category: Bleach > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 5832 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
- 1-Love Without Motive
- 1
Love without Motive
by debbiechan

Disclaimer: I don’t own these Bleach characters, but other fans play with them towards their own twisted purposes, so why not I? No money is involved, except what I would be willing to bribe Kubo-sensei into drawing Ichimaru Gin completely naked.
Description: Essentially a PWP involving Aizen, Gin, Ulquiorra, and Tousen
Warning: Sex. Fairly straightforward yaoi considering that there is supernatural eyeball involved. General Spoilers for end of Soul Society arc.

Dedicated to Shinigamikender, a very freaky girl who has entertained me muchly with her affection for the Bleach bad guys, so this fic was the least I could do for her.

Tousen knew that Aizen did not trust him.
As it should be, Tousen thought. Their relationship was not based on trust, loyalty, or admiration but on a mutual goal.
Still, whenever Aizen turned his effortless charm onto calming a room of bickering Espada, Tousen felt an odd loneliness. It was as if something about Tousen (his principles? His dour intelligence?) denied him the unique radiance, however insincere, of Aizen’s attentions.
Others in Hueco Mundo also assumed that Tousen was Aizen’s reluctant ally and tended to leave Tousen out of jokes and conversations. Even Ichimaru, and Ichimaru Gin joked with everyone.
Ichimaru was Aizen’s right hand. Ichimaru was Aizen’s beloved. Ichimaru slipped into Aizen’s quarters at night. The light steps of Aizen’s former vice captain were unmistakable, as were the groans and sighs of both men that carried through the hallways.
This is none of my business, Tousen told himself. Ichimaru Gin is not my competition. The Espada are the ones who scramble for Aizen’s favor and a turn in Aizen’s bed.

Yet the undisguised sounds from Aizen’s room continued to worry Tousen into a state of lust and loneliness. Not since the unjust death of his beautiful friend had Tousen felt so … abandoned. Was there a connection between his powerlessness over injustice then and his proximity to power now? Desire, in all its manifestations, played such a role in everyone’s dealings with Aizen here, but Tousen wasn’t being seduced off his true path … was he? The path to justice, the path with the least bloodshed. In Soul Society, he had been beyond the gentle tendrils of Aizen’s erotic influence. In Hueco Mundo, Tousen found himself wondering if Aizen simply found Tousen … not worth wooing?

Then one windless afternoon outside Aizen’s palace, the former Shinigami captain placed his hand on Tousen’s back and said, in that soft voice, "Gin complains about the light here, how gray and white everything is. When you sense movement, isn’t that what you see?"
"What I see?" No one had ever questioned Tousen about his detection abilities before. He was blind; he assumed that everyone assumed that he didn’t see anything.
"From a scientific viewpoint, surely, you understand what color is. Is movement gray and white to your blind eyes or is there a greater spectrum of … distinguishable gradients?"
"I feel the heat of reiatsu rising, I sense the swiftness of a weapon, I hear the voices of spirits and intuit intentions, but no, I do not understand color."
"Would you like to be able to?"
"What do you mean?"
"Tonight, come to my private quarters." Aizen spoke lightly, as if inviting Tousen to tea. "There is something I have been toying with…."
Tousen’s chest filled with a strange tingling.
"Ulquiorra’s eye," Aizen went on," may be able to project an image for you--not a very colorful one, but something approximating vision. It will be, I imagine, a sort of perception you have never experienced before.
**
Merely stepping into Aizen’s room that night engaged Tousen’s perceptions in a way he’d never experienced. For one thing, the walls of the room were made of impenetrable spirit power, unlike anything Tousen had sensed within the Seireitei.
Flutes and strings played a blurry dissonant music from four separate sources on the ceiling.
Ichimaru was there, lounging on the floor. The room was warm with his uninhibited reiatsu. Aizen, too, was emitting more spirit power than usual, and the air rang with a sort of eminence that Tousen had not felt since the day he, Ichimaru, and Aizen ascended from Soul Society in shining beams towards Hueco Mundo.
"It did occur to me," Aizen said, "that the sudden gift of true sight might interfere with fighting abilities you’ve honed as a blind man all these years. But we do have four months. We do have options…."
"Wouldn’t it be awesome," Ichimaru said, "if Tousen could get fitted with these special eyeballs and not have to wear his goggles anymore? We would all be able to see his prettiest expressions."
"Let’s not get his hopes up," Aizen said. "At this point all we have is Ulquiorra’s ability to project a scene that Tousen’s blindness is capable of perceiving."
Behind him, Tousen heard the wet plop of Ulquiorra’s eyeball detaching from its socket. He had not even noticed the Arrancar was here, probably because the reiatsu from Ichimaru and Aizen was so dominant.
True sight? Aizen had not mentioned that possibility earlier. And it was true, as Ichimaru suggested, that simple vanity could motivate Tousen into complying with the experiment. All souls with strong reiatsu possessed, along with a sharp appetite for food and drink, a refined aesthetic sensibility. Even Captain Zaraki rose every morning to painstakingly tie bells onto his spiked hair.
"Blue eyes, don’t you think?" Ichimaru’s voice was as lilting as always. "I think Tousen’s dark skin would look very nice with light blue eyes."
"If Aizen-sama chooses to develop them," Ulquiorra said in his very small thin voice, "Tousen’s seeing eyes will be both beautiful and functional."
Tousen felt nothing but gladness at the prospect of having eyes that weren’t dead and motionless. The mere concept of true sight was a mystery and had neutral appeal--but attractive eyes? He knew that others could identify the blind by the ugliness of dead eyes.
But if the technology is not developed, then there is no loss to me. No loss whatsoever.

"Show the recording," Aizen said, and it began.
Tousen startled as if hit in the face with a weapon. The contrasts were severe. A foreground of bright reiatsu and a background of dark emptiness.
Tousen had always been able to sense Aizen’s beauty the way he had sensed that of his dead friend’s--from people’s reactions to it. Voices that became reverent or flirtatious, self-conscious, stammering.
At this moment, he was actually looking upon Aizen’s face.
He had never touched it with his fingers so he had no idea that the planes would be so sharp. It was a broad angular face. Tousen, who had never learned to read expressions, had no idea what expression it wore.
"What do you think?" asked Ichimaru. "Do you see the same gorgeous devil the rest of us do?"
"Kaname, welcome," said the projected Aizen in the room. A bright shape that was Aizen’s hand rose and touched the amazing image that was Aizen’s face. A gesture of thoughtfulness, tranquility? "This is close to what others see of me. The coloring should be … feeble. Gray and white. But this, Kaname, is primitive sight."

Another figure stepped into view and waved a hand briskly. "Hiiiiiiii!" So that was Ichimaru’s famous smile. Even if Tousen had not been blind from the beginning of his memory, he would know that the smile was duplicitous. Ichimaru held his mouth in such a different way from Aizen. Aizen smiled without teeth showing, lightly. Ichimaru seemed to be overdoing it and not meaning the smile.
"So?" asked the real-life Aizen standing not far from Tousen. "Is it what you had imagined?"
Tousen didn’t know how to answer. "It is … amazing," he said. Yet the truth was that he was more excited over being in Aizen’s private room, which he had never been asked to enter before, than being able to discern something like vision from Ulquiorra’s eyeball.
Then that perception changed; the projected image became infinitely more exciting than it had been a second before.
The Ichimaru figure leaned forward, poured both arms around Aizen’s waist and kissed Aizen on the neck.
The real-life Ichimaru laughed. "I’m so shameless."
"What is there to be ashamed of?" Aizen’s voice spoke with quiet authority. "Discretion and shamefulness are such very different things, Gin. You understand the first but not the latter." Tousen could sense the real-life Aizen moving closer to the real-life Ichimaru even as the projected figures began to melt into one another’s arms. The kissing sounds the images’ mouths made were wet and soft, unlike anything Tousen had ever heard coming from this room before. Of course, he had never been near the door….
The projected Aizen ran a large strong hand through Ichimaru’s light-colored hair. Both men seemed to have hair that was very soft, very different from Tousen’s own. Such hair ran like water onto the high collars of their capes.
"Gin is my right hand," the projected Aizen said. He was looking directly at Tousen. So those were beautiful eyes? Narrowed, long-lashed, somehow restraining expression and full of expression… "Gin is my right hand. Gin is my beloved."

Tousen gasped. How did he know? How did Aizen know the exact phrase that had echoed in Tousen’s mind so many nights? Was it a line out of a familiar poem? Tousen felt his own reiatsu rise in wariness. He was vulnerable here. He didn’t trust Aizen or Ichimaru, even as he … felt himself aroused by their images before him.
"Does it sadden you?" The projected Aizen nipped at the projected Ichimaru’s upper lip with a wide full mouth. His large hands rose to meet Ichimaru’s slender ones, and the two braided fingers--it was a gesture of unmistakable affection. "Does it bother you, Kaname, that Gin is always here, and you are always there, outside the door?"

"Aizen!" Tousen felt he had to address the real-life Aizen before the projected scene became too manipulative. "What is the meaning of all this? You led me to believe that your experimental technology was all I was intended to preview. This… display…."
The real-life Ichimaru laughed and laughed. Tousen could not hear what either the real-life Aizen or the projected Aizen was saying. All Tousen knew was that before him, two men--two powerful and extraordinary souls who could refashion heaven and earth--began to strip their clothes. The projection of Ichimaru lost his robe first. What a delicate body. Broad shoulders and powerful arms but the thinness of an adolescent.
"I don’t know what he sees in me," said the real-life Ichimaru, still laughing. "I’m quite skinny, don’t you think?"
The projected Aizen pulled his tunic over his head and drew Ichimaru towards his large bare chest. The nakedness was unastonishing--Tousen could not grasp the concept of modesty--but the languid kissing, the rising heat, the simple movement of the two men against one another was driving Tousen to madness.
Tousen turned his face to the real people in the room. These he could not see; he could only sense them in the way he was accustomed to sensing. Ichimaru and Aizen were sitting on the floor, in the most casual of positions. Tousen could tell that they were not touching. Very near them stood the slight Arrancar with the tiny voice ("Aizen-sama, should I follow his eyes? Should I force him to look?"). Tousen could see a thin shaft of brightness projected from a source that he knew was the eyeball in Ulquiorra’s palm; the rest was now darkness. Now that he had known something of vision, would everything be darkness again?
"This display," Tousen said to Aizen. "This implicit invitation to join the two of you in some sexual activity. Don’t you think… don’t you know that corrupts our mutual goal?"
"How so?" asked Aizen.
Tousen wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he did not want to be distracted in his path towards justice. "Why me?" he asked. "I’ve--I’ve never been with men before."
"Then see how it’s done," Aizen said. "Turn around and watch. I can not trick you or corrupt you, Kaname. Your own power is too strong. Your blind eyes see too well. All I can do is share with you."
"Share what?" Tousen felt weak. There was only one inevitable conclusion to this encounter.
"Turn around and watch," Aizen said.
And so Tousen did.
The slender shape that was Ichimaru’s fell backwards, hair fanning around his face, his arms and legs as smooth as soap. The larger, more muscular shape that was Aizen’s hovered over it, brought a mouth to the crevice between Ichimaru’s torso and hip, lingered there, extended the curled tip of … oh, that was Aizen’s tongue!

There was nothing rushed, or violent, or ungracious about the whole interaction. Tousen was surprised that sex between two such powerful men could be so gentle. Aizen suckled on Gin’s cock with slow, noiseless inhalations that hollowed his cheeks. Gin threw his arms over his head and sighed. Then the men embraced and Gin was on top, riding Aizen’s cock at a luxurious pace. Tousen could see and understand, by this time, the expression of pleasure on their faces.
"Does it make you want to touch yourself, yet?" Real-life Gin breathed the words. "Oh it gets better. Here comes our darling."
"Don’t call me that," said Ulquiorra.
"What would you rather I call you? Camera-man? Voyeur? Whatever you are to Aizen, you are just a mouth and an ass to me--ah well, let me correct that, you’re Kaname’s eyes at the moment. Look, Kaname. This is the part where he sets his eyeball on the floor and comes to join us."
"It is touch that you have been missing, Kaname, more so than the sense of sight," Aizen said. "Nearly all my Espada have known this sort of companionship with one another. They came into this world without previous cultural memories. They have all become stronger warriors and more illuminated men because of touching, because of feeling ... Your fighting your will to pleasure yourself, Kaname, only wastes energy, only distracts you from your purest goals."
The slight Arrancar’s bare back was being projected before Tousen now. His reiatsu was lower than that of Aizen or Ichimaru. His torso was slimmer than even Ichimaru’s. His hair was longer than both men’s, darker, and if possible, softer. It swept his sharp shoulderblades as he threw his head back. Ichimaru was running his teeth along Ulquiorra’s neck.
The projected Arrancar made a purring sound that Tousen never would have guessed he was capable of.
"Darling," said the real-life Ichimaru and chuckled.
The projected Ichimaru was soon fucking the projected Ulquiorra and the projected Aizen was hovering over both--forearms bulging as if he were about to crush them in a deadly embrace. Instead, Aizen’s arm muscles relaxed and his open palms brushed the length of Ichimaru’s spine. Aizen’s hands slapped loudly on Ichimaru’s buttocks. Tousen could not see but knew when Aizen had entered his former vice captain, because Ichimaru let out an unpremeditated sound--a groan, something sharp and warbly and immediately swallowed. The sound turned Tousen rock-hard. He didn’t know that Ichimaru could lose himself … to anything or anyone, even Aizen.
There was much moaning after that. Aizen’s deep, resonant voice. It seemed in rhythm with the odd, whirring music that had been playing in the room since Tousen entered. Ichimaru’s soft, controlled panting and occasional gasp. And the slender Arrancar--he whimpered the loudest as he was pushed again and again by the double weight of the men above him.
The reiatsu of those real-life bodies standing around him was rising in concert with the sexual excitement of their projected counterparts.
The noisy little Ulquiorra had started to breathe rather loudly.
"Oh shit," said the projected Ichimaru, and he threw his arm backwards to grab Aizen by the hair.
"Ha," said the real-life Ichimaru. "If you’re in the middle, of course you come first."
"Not always," commented the real-life Aizen. "I don’t think you’ve peaked here yet, Gin--look at how your hips are still working. Ah no, there. All over."
This running narrative was wildly exciting to Tousen. The casualness with which the onlookers commented on their bodies, as if they were watching themselves spar. How could it be that detachment was sexy? Tousen had always believed that physical intimacy would be sweetest when allied with feelings of love.
The projected configuration had changed--now Ulquiorra lay on his back while Ichimaru fingered the Arrancar’s hole with one hand and with the other hand, pumped a very slender, very off-color (white? Whiter than human?) cock towards orgasm. Aizen was apparently sitting on the Arrancar’s face, working his hips in and out of Ulquiorra’s mouth.
When the Arrancar came, he shuddered and sprayed into Aizen’s hair. When Aizen came, the large man’s mouth opened and made no noise. Tousen could see Ulquiorra’s throat swallow, a series of undulations above his spirit-chain opening. Arrrrrrrr, the Arrancar growled in obvious appreciation. Tousen wondered: does it taste good to Arrancar or does it just taste good?

And then all sight was cut off.
Tousen could hear Ichimaru pawing Aizen on the floor, the slurpy sound of kissing.
Ulquiorra popped his eye back into its socket.
"Ulquiorra," said Aizen, his mouth obviously muffled by Ichimaru’s lips. "Start with Kaname."
Tousen felt his icy hands on his hipbones and a warm breath nuzzling his crotch. There was obviously no protesting anything at this point; the air was charged with reiatsu and immanent sex.
"I regret that you can’t see anymore at this point," said Aizen as Ulquiorra slid down Tousen’s waistband and began to lap at his hardness. "We will have to perfect the projection techniques, and even then, I can not guarantee you sight before we engage our armies. All I wanted--" Here Aizen moaned slightly as Ichimaru must have done something obscene that Tousen could not see. "All I wanted was to initiate you properly into this room so you wouldn’t feel left out. I have--" Another groan as Ichimaru did something else. Tousen wanted so badly to see what. "I have no hidden motive. You are the only one, Kaname, who never needed to be persuaded. You always saw what others didn’t."
Tousen’s cock was being swallowed whole by the Arrancar’s hot mouth. Tousen did not believe for one moment that Aizen had no hidden motive, neither did he believe that Aizen believed that Tousen would not suspect him.
He had heard the phrase before: blinding heat. Tousen knew what it meant now. The feeling between his legs overwhelmed rational thought.
"Gin is my right hand," Aizen said (to which Ichimaru chuckled, presumably against Aizen’s chest--it was a muffled chuckle). "Gin is my beloved, but you, Kaname, and all my Arrancar, we are…." Aizen struggled for the right word.
"An army of good-looking fellows?" offered Ichimaru.
"United towards a common purpose," said Aizen.
It wasn’t true. Purposes didn’t matter anymore in this room. Intent was lost. Grasping for some self-justification, Tousen seemed to remember that even before coming here, he had wanted to come here. The memory was tenuous, but the feeling was indisputable--like beauty to a blind man, like love without a motive.

And this is justice, Tousen told himself, as Aizen’s broad hand landed on his shoulder and a light kiss brushed against his cheek. I belong here.
END
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Love Without Motive