Bleach 1. Chapter 1

**Dancing Lessons Redux**

**A/N:** This is second-order fanfiction— an alternative version of **Kelsey L Leigh's** remarkable and nosebleed-inducing _Dancing Lessons,_ that picks up after her first five chapters.

I'm certain I'm taking it in a very different direction than she is, but hey, that's fanfiction for you.

This story is dedicated to **Kelsey L Leigh** for inspiration and for graciously granting permission for me to publish fanfic of her fanfic that twists her story line beyond all recognition. Thank you, Kelsey.

**Characters:** Ichigo, Aizen, Ichigo's inner hollow, Orihime, Keigo, Tatsuki.

**Pairings:** Aizen x Ichigo, implied Ichigo x Orihime.

**Note**: This story has been edited to comply with FFnet's content guidelines. If you are interested in the original, uncensored version of this story, it will be posted on my private site.

**Warnings:** yaoi, lemon, drug use. Do not read if you are under 18 or do not like yaoi. Multiple lemons and yaoi smut in this chapter and the chapters to come. You have been warned.

**Summary: **This is an alternative version of chapter six of _Dancing Lessons_, where high school student Ichigo wakes up in bed with his teacher Aizen, the morning after he lost his virginity to the older man. In this chapter, Ichigo (figuratively) borrows Light Yagami's sled, riding down the slippery slope…

Why has Aizen taken an interest in Ichigo? (I mean, other than for the amazing sex. ;) What sinister plans does Aizen have in store for Ichigo and his nakama, and why is he pretending to be a high school teacher?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. All characters are 18 years or older in this story. I do not condone illegal drug use.

(Originally posted 2/8/2011.)

XxXxXxX

Someone was kissing him.

Ichigo made a noise in his throat, his mind still sleep-fogged, as he realized that warm lips were on his, an insistent tongue intruding into his mouth—

He opened his eyes and saw Aizen's deep brown eyes only a few inches away. They were lying on Aizen's huge bed, naked, limbs intertwined, the dim half-light of a single candle flickering over the walls and drawn window shades of the large room. The memory of last night (earlier this night?) came flooding back and he could feel the flush burning his face and creeping down his neck. The older man smirked and pulled away. Ichigo looked at the clock and groaned. It was only a few minutes after four a.m.

"Awake at last?" Aizen asked in a mocking tone, trailing one hand lightly over Ichigo's chest, across his nipples, along his throat. "It's morning; time to get up if you want to make it home before dawn."

Ichigo groaned. He ached all over and was especially sore in an area he had never thought much about. But feeling Aizen's body pressed against his, those fingertips caressing his skin, seeing those full lips curled in careless amusement— a rush of desire passed through him again. He moaned and pushed his hips forward, moving his body against Aizen's.

He shouldn't be feeling this way. He should be getting up and running away, putting this disgraceful episode behind him. Guilt flooded him along with desire.

Aizen smiled his dark smile as Ichigo forced himself to turn away, regret and shame overwhelming him. He curled up in a ball and closed his eyes, refusing to look at the other man. There was a pause, and then he felt the bed shift under him as Aizen rolled over and away from him. He opened one eye a crack. The older man was gracefully sliding out from under the blood-red sheets and walking to a closet. He extracted a white satin robe and slipped it on, tying a maroon sash around the waist.

Looking back at Ichigo, he smirked again. Ichigo quickly shut his eyes. He heard a chuckle.

"Now, Ichigo, pretending won't make it go away. But fortunately, I have something to… assist you with those treacherous feelings of yours." His teacher sat on the bed again and Ichigo heard a match being struck, smelled the sulfur as it flared. He opened his eyes. The brown-haired man was holding a small pipe to his lips, the match above the bowl as he drew in the flame, then exhaled immediately. When the pipe was lit, he held it out to Ichigo, that subversive gleam in his eyes again.

Ichigo shook his head. He had never even gotten drunk, much less tried any illegal drugs.

Aizen gave him a mischievous smile. "It will make you feel less… conflicted, Ichigo. Cannabis has medicinal properties that have been used to soothe the body and mind for hundreds of years." He held the pipe out to Ichigo again.

When Ichigo turned his face away, the man's eyes narrowed. "What did I say to you about disobeying my orders?" he said. "The consequences will be severe if you defy me any longer. You must learn to realize that I, and I alone, know what is best for you now, Ichigo." His intense brown eyes bored into Ichigo's, and slowly, unwillingly, Ichigo's hand came up to take the pipe. Why did he always feel so mesmerized in Aizen's presence? It seemed that his will was paralyzed and dominated by the older man's. A part of him thrilled to that realization… the same perfidious part of himself that lusted like a beast after the older man. Ichigo did not understand it; what was this alien creature within himself?

Aizen nodded with satisfaction as the younger man lifted the pipe up to his lips mechanically, inhaled automatically. The hot, acrid smoke burned Ichigo's throat and lungs and made him want to cough, but he held it back. "Good," Aizen murmured, watching him carefully. "Now hold the smoke in your lungs, that's it… hold it… All right, you may breathe out now." Ichigo let his breath out with a gasp, coughing. Aizen put one arm around his shoulders, stroking his back.

"Again," Aizen commanded, holding the pipe up to Ichigo's lips. The younger man repeated his actions, feeling again the burn along his throat, and now, a new feeling inside his body, a heavy rush of pleasure as though he were tingling from inside. He looked at Aizen, whose lips were curving in dark amusement at Ichigo's expression. Aizen set the pipe down on an ashtray on the bedside table and captured his lips in another deep kiss.

Ichigo sighed as the other man pushed him back on the bed carelessly and began ravaging his mouth. His lips felt odd; it was as though every touch of Aizen's was magnified, as he lay helpless under the older man taking his pleasure in Ichigo's mouth with a lazy, lingering tongue. Ichigo moaned, no longer able to protest, losing himself in the powerful sensations.

"You see," whispered Aizen in between kisses, as he stroked the younger man with his long fingers and Ichigo moaned and writhed under him, "it's not so bad, is it, to be corrupted with sex and drugs?" He laughed again as Ichigo's only answer was a groan of desire as Aizen's expert fingers reached beneath him.

He leaned over the younger man, the curl of brown hair dangling in between his dark, seductive eyes. "Knowing you're betraying your young, innocent girlfriend with illicit sex with a much older man… that just adds spice to the experience, does it not?" Aizen's lids were heavy, but Ichigo could see the lust burning in his eyes underneath them, his dark satisfaction at Ichigo's bending to his will.

Ichigo shuddered under Aizen's hands and nodded numbly. His guilt was gone, burned away in a rush of utter pleasure that swirled inside him. He tangled with Aizen on the bed, tearing away the robe and diving into the older man's elegant body, burying his face in the soft brown hair as he licked and kissed him. The other man laughed in his throat and tugged Ichigo's hair roughly, mashing the youth's face against his body.

Ichigo could no longer think. Here he was, breaking the law, shattering the personal moral code he had lived his entire life by, yielding in abject surrender to a man who clearly had no principles whatsoever, and all he wanted was to give in to the intense, dark pleasure of it all. All he wanted was more. He wanted Aizen all over him, deep within him, touching him, taking him, leading him down whatever murky path the older man chose.

And Aizen was right, he thought. The fact that it all was so wrong, in every way, only made the pleasure more extreme, more utterly delicious. He moaned with mixed lust and agony as Aizen reached for him one more time.

Aizen's eyes glittered with wicked desire as he held the younger man. "Oh yes," he breathed into Ichigo's ear, curling his fingers around him until the youth whined with delight. "Imagine what your lovely young lady would say if she could see you now. Or your father, so proud of his boy, seeing him ravished by none other than the teacher he entrusted his care to, now defiling his innocence and using him as a plaything." He laughed in the back of his throat as Ichigo moaned again.

The pain and pleasure were intertwined like fire in his core, the intensity rising up and catching him by the throat until he could take it no longer and he exploded, clutching at Aizen as though desperate, desperate with long-buried lust, finally giving way to the animal it seemed he had always known was inside him. The older man gripped him in return, winding his fingers into Ichigo's hair and throwing his head back with unreserved abandon.

Aizen took his lips again in a possessive kiss as they lay against one another. "You belong to me now," he murmured. "Utterly and completely. Isn't that right, Ichigo?"

Ichigo sighed, mind still hazy with pleasure. "Yes. Always. I am yours... absolutely and without reserve…"

The brown-haired man chuckled at Ichigo's submissive words. He brushed Ichigo's hair back from his face and traced his features with his slender fingers. "Ah… I can see you will be a _good_ student…" he said in his low, rich voice, soaked with lazy delight. "I have some truly delicious plans prepared for you, Ichigo. You will serve my purposes well."

Rather than being alarmed at these words, Ichigo felt entirely relaxed and comfortable, his skin vibrating with warmth, basking in the thrill of being in Aizen's bed. He rolled over to drape his arm around the older man, feeling his thoughts go dim, dropping himself into the pit of pleasure so he could once again savor the sheer bliss he had experienced at Aizen's hands. He sighed and felt himself slipping into sleep.

XxXxXxX

"Time to get up and go home, Ichigo," the deep voice murmured in his ear. Ichigo sat bolt upright, shaking his head to try to clear the cobwebs out of it. The dim half-light of dawn was tinting the window shades.

Aizen, fully dressed and immaculate in black pants and shirt, was holding out a cup of coffee to Ichigo.

"Thanks," he mumbled as he took the cup. The warm liquid soothed his sore throat. He was sore everywhere. He drank the bitter coffee eagerly, feeling its warmth spread into every fiber of his being, gradually clearing the fog and exhaustion from his mind. Aizen was watching him, his deep brown eyes sharp and amused.

"I'll be driving to school shortly. Do you want me to drop you off at, or near," he said with a brief chuckle, "your house?"

"Uh, yeah, thanks," Ichigo muttered. He found his clothes on the floor and pulled them on.

God, how was he going to sneak back into the house without waking Yuzu and Karin? He glanced at the clock. It was just before six. He supposed if he hurried, he could still make it to school as though it were a normal day. Somehow… it just didn't seem to matter so much anymore. He followed Aizen silently as the man picked up his briefcase and walked out to his car.

Aizen dropped him off a block away from the Kurosaki Clinic. The streets were still deserted, luckily. Ichigo ran over the damp grass, reached the drainpipe beneath his bedroom window, and shinnied up it quickly, wincing, as he still felt a bit sore. He placed his palms flat on the window pane and slid it upwards. Gasping, he flung himself over the windowsill and into his room. Then he paused, trying to breathe quietly, listening for any noise or movement in the silent house.

He pulled off his clothes and slipped in between his cold, rough sheets. He couldn't help but compare his empty, plain bed to Aizen's warm and luxurious one. Against his will, Aizen's beautiful face swam before him, those lush, full lips with his tongue darting out to lick them… Punching his pillow in frustration, Ichigo rolled over in the bed, smashing his face into the pillow.

He had about half an hour before the alarm went off and he wanted to sleep.

But instead he lay awake, feeling helpless desire once again. At least his guilt and shame seemed to be gone, replaced by intermittent thrills of hedonistic glee at the events of the night before. All he could feel was dark excitement… and the insane hope that it would happen again.

XxXxXxX

Ichigo grinned to himself as he walked briskly in the front doors of Karakura High, his book bag slung over his shoulder. It had all gone quite smoothly this morning. No one in his family had suspected anything, it seemed; although goat-face had made some inane comment about Ichigo getting in late last night, he hadn't really seemed to care.

Surely he didn't realize how late Ichigo had been out, or have any inkling what his son had been doing. Ichigo remembered Aizen's whisper, "What would your father say if he could see his virgin son being ravished by his teacher?" and the pleasure crawled through him again, shot through with all the appeal of the forbidden. His lips curled in a smirk. He felt liberated, oddly at ease at last, after all those years of misery, of trying, and failing, to conform to an unbelievably burdensome moral code. He felt almost relieved that it had all happened so suddenly, so effortlessly, that his life had changed so irrevocably under Aizen's hands, that his emotions today were so different from yesterday.

It probably also had something to do with the mix of psychoactive substances now coursing through his bloodstream. After he had finished his coffee, Aizen had informed him with an impish smirk that it too had been laced with exotic additives. Ichigo knew he should feel betrayed or angry with the older man for coercing and tricking him into taking illegal drugs. But instead the thought only induced a languid thrill of pleasure deep in his core. Indeed, the thought of obeying any of Aizen's commands still turned him on beyond belief. He felt a shameless smile curving his own lips as he strode up to his locker.

"Wow. What happened to Ichigo?" Keigo said in a loud voice. Ichigo spun to see Mizuiro, Tatsuki, and Keigo grinning at him from a few feet away. "He's smiling."

"That never happens," said Tatsuki in mock surprise.

"What happened, did you get laid, Ichigo?" asked Keigo, grinning more widely. "Did you and Inoue get it on last night?"

At that, Ichigo scowled ferociously, but before he could do anything, Tatsuki's fist had slammed hard into Keigo's nose.

"Ow!" cried the black-haired teen, jumping backwards and rubbing his nose, glaring at Tatsuki.

She had her hands on her hips. "Don't you dare say anything like that about Orihime." She glared at him, her eyes flashing. "She deserves respect, do you hear me?" With one last glower at Keigo, she turned back to Ichigo. "But seriously, Ichigo, why are you in such a good mood?"

Ichigo was frowning again at his three friends, taking refuge in his usual taciturn scowl. "Oops. Looks like he's back to normal." Mizuiro laughed.

Tatsuki still looked expectant, but fortunately for Ichigo, the bell rang, and he was saved from the need to think up some cryptic statement or downright lie. He grabbed his book bag, and followed the others down the hall as they all hurried off to class.

XxXxXxX

Ichigo sat in history class, staring up at the clock. He had been unable to concentrate on any of his teachers' lectures. Somehow it all seemed so unimportant now, memorizing dry, pointless facts, none of which had any real meaning. The only meaning in his life was now Aizen, and the intense pleasure that pierced him when he merely thought about the man, his beautiful body, his deep voice whispering seditious phrases in his ear… Ichigo groaned inwardly. His uniform pants were feeling tight again. He couldn't go on like this… but what choice did he really have? He was caught; well and truly captivated by the older man. Against all rationality, he knew he would do anything to continue the illicit relationship, regardless of the cost. He gazed out the window and drummed his fingers idly on his desk.

Chemistry class today had been agony. Unable to stop himself from staring at Aizen, who had reverted to his schoolteacher appearance, brown eyes mild behind square glasses, his casually tousled hair combed over his forehead again, Ichigo's discomfort had been painful and constant throughout the class. He didn't remember a word of chemistry, only Aizen's eyes and the single glance he had given Ichigo, a glance full of ironic knowledge and amusement, before he had turned away and was once more the dedicated teacher again.

Ichigo looked up at a disturbance at the front of the history room. A student had entered the classroom door and given a note to the teacher. The man looked up at Ichigo. "Kurosaki Ichigo, you are to go to room 371 at once. Here is your hall pass." Puzzled, Ichigo gathered up his books and picked up the pass.

Room 371 was up on the third floor, in the science wing. Ichigo's heart suddenly beat faster and he quickened his steps.

He pushed open the door. It was one of the chemistry labs, now empty, sunlight gleaming over the rows of lab benches, three lab stools neatly arranged at each bench. Ichigo advanced into the room and scanned it more carefully. There was no one here. He looked down at the slip of paper, checking the room number. Yes, it was correct. Mystified, Ichigo sat down to wait on one of the lab stools.

A few minutes later, the door clicked open and Aizen entered. Ichigo's heart began to thud in his chest. The brown-haired man smiled as he locked the door behind him and advanced on Ichigo. Light glinted off his glasses under his thick bangs.

"I thought I would put you out of your misery, Ichigo," he murmured as the teen stared at him. He chuckled. "You really seemed to be suffering in chemistry class."

"I—" Ichigo began, but the words died in his throat.

"No. No talking," chastised his teacher as he seated himself gracefully at the desk at the front of the room, swiveled the chair sideways. "Now, come here, Ichigo."

Mesmerized, Ichigo walked forward slowly, knowing what was coming. He couldn't believe this was happening here in school, right in one of the classrooms, at the very desk where Kurotsuchi Mayuri used to give his rambling, deranged lectures… surely the other teachers had keys and could walk in on them any time.

Aizen was smiling his sinful smile again, eyes lidded and gleaming with anticipation and lust. "Kneel before me, Ichigo." His legs were spread as he leaned back in the chair.

Ichigo, heart thudding, complied. Knees bent beneath him on the cold green tiles, he unzipped the other man's pants. Aizen sighed with pleasure, long fingers threading themselves through the youth's hair, holding him in place. Ichigo felt unbearably aroused at the thought that he was… servicing this man, his teacher, his lover.

Aizen took his head in his hands and pushed him away. "Enough. Stop," he commanded. Ichigo blinked up at him, bewildered. Aizen's eyes were hazed with lust. "On the lab bench. Now," he ordered huskily.

Ichigo, confused, looked back at the lab bench. "You mean, on top of the table?" he asked.

"You heard what I said." There was irritation in Aizen's eyes. "What did I tell you about hesitating to obey my orders?"

Obedient and heart thrilling once again, Ichigo hitched himself up until he was sitting on the top of the lab bench.

"Take off your pants," Aizen commanded.

With a nervous glance at the door, Ichigo complied, sliding his school uniform pants and boxers off until they were down around his ankles, his bare ass against the cold, smooth material of the lab bench.

"That's good enough." Aizen smiled. Without taking any more of his clothes off, he pushed himself up gracefully onto the bench and positioned himself over Ichigo. The younger man groaned. He couldn't believe that his teacher was going to do him right there on one of the chemistry lab benches. He was even more turned on than before, as he obediently allowed Aizen to move his body into position.

It did not take long until it was over, and Aizen's weight was pressing Ichigo painfully against the hard surface of the table, one hip jammed into a tap. But Ichigo didn't care about the pain. He wanted Aizen, desperately, agonizingly… he felt he could never get enough of him. It seemed that every time they had sex it only made him hungrier for the older man. He was panting, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps, as Aizen pulled himself up and away from him, pausing to take one long, lush kiss from the younger man's lips before he climbed off the table and stood up.

He looked down at Ichigo still spread-eagled on the lab table, and smiled. That had been delightful, and so much more gratifying than grading papers during his free hour. He would have to arrange it more often. He looked down at himself, and made a brusque gesture to Ichigo.

"Up," he commanded, relishing the expression of confusion on Ichigo's youthful, perfect features.

Understanding dawned in the teen's face, and he hastened to obey, kneeling on the floor before his teacher. Aizen leaned against the lab bench and sighed with satisfaction as he gazed at the youth crouched before him on the hard floor. The young man had exceeded his expectations; he was even more enjoyable than Aizen had anticipated. He took a long, savoring breath, stroking his fingers through the spiky, bright hair, and feeling the young man shiver at his touch. He laughed low in his throat. All was going even better than he had hoped. It would not take long until Ichigo's conditioning was complete, and he would be prepared for the next phase of his plan.

XxXxXxX

Ichigo was at his locker, shoving books into his bag, annoyed at the fact that he had to waste his time with school right now when there were so many more compelling experiences waiting for him, when he heard a soft voice behind him.

"Ichigo." It was Orihime, looking at him with a tentative, almost frightened expression. His heart almost stopped.

"Orihime," he began, waiting for the guilt to pour over him as he saw the hurt in her eyes. She knew, somehow, he thought, that something had come between them. He gazed at her, her large, beautiful grey eyes, her generous lips, that long, luxurious hair spilling over her shoulders… it always seemed to be inviting his fingers to stroke it. She was beautiful. He found himself reaching for her hair, stroking it, weaving his fingers into it, and then tracing them downwards… over her ample bosom swelling under her school uniform. He noted her sudden gasp, her sidelong, embarrassed glance down the hall at his public display… but she did not pull away.

Suddenly he realized that he did not feel guilt, only lust. A dark desire began to grow in him. He had already learned much from Aizen. Why did he need to comply with any codes of honor or morality any more? His smile grew dark, an expression he suspected mirrored his teacher's, and he leaned forward to kiss those full lips, burying his hands in her thick, warm hair.

His kiss was confident now as he took Orihime's face into his hands and delved his tongue into her mouth as Aizen had done with his. He tasted and explored her mouth, feeling her hesitation turn to willingness, then joy as her arms encircled him; the soft noises she made in her throat shifted from surprise to pleasure. When he finally released her she was smiling, happiness shining once more in her eyes.

Looking at her, he realized that all his hesitation with her, his tentative kisses and touches, had been foolish. She would allow him to do anything he wanted, he suddenly knew with a deep, dark knowledge. She had been in love with him for years. He had been worried before, had not wanted to go too fast with her, had not wanted to hurt her feelings or make her nervous. But now he knew that had never been necessary; she wanted him. A wicked thrill coursed through him as he made a quick decision to indulge his own desires— he would take her today in her apartment. He knew she would give herself to him; he could already picture her shy compliance, her willingness to please him. Indeed, it would make her feel happy to be wanted by him, much happier than she had been recently, thinking he was losing interest in her. And why should he give her up just because he had found another lover? That was simply another limitation to discard.

He smiled at her, and her expression faltered for a moment at the darkness in his glance. Then her eyes brightened once more at the thought of his interest in her.

"Orihime," he said breathily, toying with a strand of her hair, his lips brushing her ear, "can I come over this afternoon and study with you?"

She smiled and lowered her eyes shyly. "Why, yes. That sounds like a wonderful idea, Ichigo."

He laughed inwardly. It was all so easy. To think of all the years he had wasted, making himself miserable, agonizing over what was right or wrong… when all he had to do was reach out and take what he wanted.

Yes, he had learned a great deal from his teacher.


	2. Chapter 2

**Dancing Lessons Redux Chap. 2**

**A/N: **Thanks to all of my readers and reviewers for the very positive response to the first chapter! I really appreciate the feedback. As requested, more yaoi and lemons in this chapter. And even some semblance of a plot.

**Pairings:** Aizen x Ichigo.

**Warnings: **yaoi, lemon, hot car smex. Do not read if you are under 18 or do not like yaoi. You have been warned.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or **Kelsey L Leigh**'s _Dancing Lessons_. All characters are 18 years or older in this story. This plot diverges completely from the original story in _Dancing Lessons_ and has not been approved by the author. And oh yeah, I do not condone the illegal activities suggested in this story and do not suggest that any of them are advisable or even possible to perform in a moving car.

Enjoy.

(Originally posted 2/20/2011.)

XxXxXxX

Ichigo swung his backpack over his shoulder and trotted down the front stairs of the school. Finally. He was finally free of all the boring restrictions and constraints of the school day, and now it was time to do what _he_ wanted.

He had been delayed after school for about half an hour by required attendance at a stupid club that he had signed up for for some reason earlier that year. It had been unutterably boring. He had decided halfway through that he was going to quit and had simply walked out of the club. No one had said anything. The world hadn't come to an end.

He huffed to himself in exasperation as he walked out the front gate of the school and started down the street. All these years of playing by _their_ rules, and what had it ever gained him? It was nothing, nothing compared to what he had discovered with Aizen. The encounters he had with his teacher were far beyond anything he had ever experienced in his life. Savoring the memories, his lips curled in a dark smile.

He turned the corner and began walking down the street in the direction of Orihime's apartment. And this afternoon, he would amuse himself with yet another new sensation, that of taking his girlfriend's virginity. He imagined her underneath him, begging for him as he had begged for Aizen, and he could feel himself becoming excited.

A car pulled up beside him and stopped. He recognized Aizen's black Porsche with his teacher sitting inside at the wheel. The passenger side window whirred open and Aizen leaned toward it. Puzzled, Ichigo moved to the car and bent to lean in at the window.

"Hello, Ichigo." The youth felt another subversive thrill at the man's deep, seductive voice. He was smiling faintly, his brown eyes gleaming underneath his square glasses. "Why don't you get in? I have something I want to show you this afternoon."

Ichigo felt lust ripple through him at the thought of riding in Aizen's car again, sitting so close to the man he desired so intensely. But he couldn't right now. He had promised Inoue he'd join her at her apartment. "Uh…" he hesitated. "I, uh, have an appointment right now…"

Aizen's eyes narrowed. "Break it," he commanded. He gestured at the car door. "Get in. You can call them as we drive."

Ichigo hesitated for only a moment longer before he reached for the door handle. He opened the door and slid into the slick leather seat, dumping his backpack on the floorboard between his legs. Aizen accelerated rapidly away from the curb, moving into traffic smoothly.

"Make the call now," Aizen ordered. "Quickly, because I have another task for you to perform." Ichigo glanced at him. His full lips were curled in a smirk and Ichigo felt heat arrow through his body again. Obediently, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Orihime's number.

"Inoue?" he said when he heard her voice. "I'm sorry, something has come up at the clinic and I'm needed to help out," he lied shamelessly. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I miss you too. See you tomorrow." He hung up and slid the phone back into his pocket.

Aizen was still smiling. But there was a note of menace in his voice as he said, "Ichigo, I don't recall giving you permission to visit your girlfriend."

"I didn't think you'd mind." Ichigo knew he sounded sulky, but he didn't care.

"Of course I don't mind if you have sex with your lovely young lady." Ichigo looked up in astonishment. How had he known? "And of course I knew what you were planning. It was quite obvious from your expression." Aizen's eyes flashed with amusement as he glanced over at the youth. "As I said, I have no objections— with one condition." He paused as he signaled a turn, pulling into a line of traffic heading for one of the thoroughfares leading out of the city. "You must request permission from me before each encounter, and you must comply with whatever directives I give you for each visit. That is an absolute requirement." He looked at Ichigo again. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course," Ichigo mumbled.

"Good." Aizen's voice was silky with satisfaction. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, I require diversion during this long drive that I am so kindly providing you with." His tongue appeared at the corner of his mouth, traced his lower lip slowly.

Ichigo gaped at his teacher, puzzled.

"Take off your shirt," Aizen commanded. "I want to see that lovely body once again."

Obediently, Ichigo unbuttoned his shirt as Aizen accelerated into traffic. He looked out at the other cars on the road. The windows of Aizen's car were tinted so it was less likely he would be seen, but still, it gave him a bit of an illicit thrill as he stripped off his shirt there in the front seat of Aizen's Porsche. He wriggled around to untuck the shirt from underneath his belt.

Aizen reached over, cupped the back of his neck with one long-fingered hand, and then stroked his throat. Ichigo felt his breathing catch. Were they going to make out here in the car? While driving? Aizen smiled at him as he shifted into the fast lane. He ran one finger down Ichigo's torso from the hollow in his throat down to his navel and curled it under the belt of his pants. Ichigo groaned with desire and Aizen's eyes darkened with lust.

"Now," Aizen said, indicating his own pants. "Unbutton me."

Ichigo gaped again. "Right now?" His voice squeaked. "While you're driving?"

"I gave you an order, Ichigo." The man's voice had turned stern again.

Ichigo shook his head, but complied, unbuttoning Aizen's fly. "Are you sure this is safe?" he asked, while at the same time feeling an electrifying surge of excitement at the thought of all the taboos he was about to break.

Aizen laughed. "Ichigo," he murmured, "I wouldn't call any of our recent activities 'safe.'" The wicked smile was playing on his mouth again. "Now. Begin."

Awkwardly, Ichigo twisted around on the seat until he was kneeling sideways on the buttery leather. He bent over, feeling again the incredible thrill that submitting to his teacher's orders gave him. He heard Aizen's sigh of pleasure.

"Ah… you're such a quick learner, Ichigo," the older man breathed. The sight of the head of orange hair nestled between his thighs as he drove was unbelievably exciting. Combined with the comfort of the well-designed bucket seat, the smooth leather, the vibrating hum of the well-tuned engine as the car responded to the light pressure of his fingertips on the wheel, it was quite a delightful experience, spiced just enough with the lovely appeal of the forbidden. He sighed again with pleasure and his breathing caught as Ichigo increased the tempo of his ministrations. One hand tangled in the spikes of Ichigo's tousled hair as he held the youth close.

Ichigo continued until the older man was completely finished and had relaxed, breathing heavily. How he had managed to keep the car in the lane during that was beyond him. But he was not surprised that Aizen was competent at splitting his attention; he seemed to be beyond competent at everything he did. Ichigo felt another spurt of desire at the thought.

Without further orders, Ichigo carefully sat back as his teacher sighed and stroked his hair and trailed his fingers over Ichigo's bare back. Then he straightened up awkwardly. Aizen's eyes were hazed with satiation. Meeting Ichigo's glance, he smirked and gestured at his fly. Obediently, Ichigo bent to button up his teacher's pants, caressing him leisurely as he did so and being rewarded by another sigh of pleasure.

"Ah, Ichigo, you are truly delightful," Aizen murmured in his deep, seductive voice. "And you have perfect timing as well." They had reached the edge of town, and Aizen swung onto the highway leading west toward the mountains. He eased smoothly into the fast lane and engaged the cruise control. "Now it's time for even more entertaining activities."

Ichigo looked at him somewhat apprehensively. But he couldn't deny that he was unbelievably turned on.

"Take off all your clothes, Ichigo." Aizen's deep voice was lazy and careless, filled with the arrogant confidence of a man accustomed to command.

Swallowing, Ichigo pulled off his shoes and socks, and then wriggled out of his pants. He hesitated only a moment, and then pulled off his boxers as well. It was so arousing to be sitting there completely naked, wrapped in the luxurious embrace of soft leather, feeling the muted, powerful purr of the engine, knowing that he was utterly under Aizen's control. He sighed and relaxed into the seat, wondering what was coming next.

Aizen reached over, caressed him with long, languid fingers, and Ichigo moaned in anticipation. Then Aizen removed his hand. He smirked at Ichigo's whine of displeasure.

"There's lube in the glove compartment. Get it out."

Ichigo was beyond puzzled now. What could he possibly be planning? It surely wouldn't be possible for them to have intercourse while driving. His mind boggled at the thought. But he obediently opened the glove compartment and withdrew the lube.

Aizen was smiling his wicked smile. He indicated the smoothly rounded stick shift. "Apply it there."

Ichigo's mouth dropped open. But he obeyed, carefully slicking his fingers with lube and then rubbing them thoroughly over the cool, slightly vibrating metal. Then he looked at Aizen somewhat apprehensively. The man's face was alight with wicked amusement. "You know what to do, Ichigo."

Almost not believing he was doing this, Ichigo levered himself up, leaning on Aizen and placing one leg against his on the other side of the central console, and slowly positioning himself over the stick. It felt cool, smooth and slippery against his entrance. Carefully, slowly, he lowered himself onto it, feeling the slick, vibrating shaft enter him. It slid in more easily that he would have believed. He supposed he had already been stretched out quite a bit from the past couple of day's activities. After all, Aizen was quite large.

Sighing, he settled himself down over the device, bracing himself against the dashboard and Aizen's body. He gasped as he felt Aizen's fingers curl around him. He was unbearably sensitive to the other man's touch, and wanted to writhe into his hand, but found he was kept immobile by the stick up his ass. He half-laughed with the absurdity of it. And yet… as Aizen stroked and teased him, he shivered with desire. One of Aizen's legs pinioned his naked leg against the center console, and he found the sensation of being held utterly captive and immobile was an incredible turn-on.

Plus… the vibrations of the stick inside him were driving him crazy. He moaned, long and helplessly, as Aizen's long fingers swirled over him. There was pain as well, but he was becoming accustomed to pain as part of the sexual experience with Aizen. And the addition of pain seemed to add to the overall intensity of the process. His groans and sighs were turning into full-throated cries of desire, almost screams, as he gripped the dashboard harder.

He had never experienced anything so intense. The sensations were overwhelming him; he felt was going to completely lose control; and then the world disappeared in a flash of white as his orgasm was ripped out of him and he screamed, shrieked, unable to move so that he had to channel everything into the only thing he had left, his voice; he heard himself screaming himself hoarse, over and over again; trying to free himself but being trapped, trapped in the most intense pleasure and pain he had ever felt in his life.

Gasping for breath, Ichigo slowly came back to himself to realize he was still in Aizen's car, still straddling the stick which was continuing its subversive vibration deep within him. From somewhere Aizen had conjured a towel which was now wrapped around his member. The brown-haired man's eyes were glittering with wickedness as he glanced briefly at Ichigo, and then returned his eyes to the road.

Breathless and panting, Ichigo slowly extricated himself from the awkward position, lifting himself up over the central console and collapsing back into the passenger seat, huffing. As he crumpled into the soft leather, he gave another long-drawn-out groan. He could feel painful bruises deep within and knew he would be even more sore later.

But somehow none of that mattered. He looked back at his lover and felt his lips draw back in a wide grin of pleasure. "Aizen-sama," he gasped hoarsely. "I am yours forever." He felt the words echo in his core as Aizen looked back at him with a sinful gleam in his eyes and a dark, satisfied curl of his lips. It was true. He would do anything, anything for this man, no matter what the cost. He would walk through fire for him; obey the least of his whims if only for the chance to see those large, liquid brown eyes gazing at him with approval or amusement.

He bent his head to kiss Aizen's hand on the steering wheel, taking time to lick each of those long fingers as it wrapped around the wheel. Then Aizen shook his mouth off, flicking his fingers, and pulled Ichigo's head into his for a long, lingering kiss. Briefly, Ichigo wondered how Aizen could even see the road, then he gave in and returned the kiss eagerly, pressing his bare body against the older man's, trailing his fingers in between his legs shamelessly. Being completely naked in Aizen's car, rubbing against the other man who was fully clothed, made him feel shamefully excited, almost like a whore, like a toy to be used; he could feel himself giving in to sheer, depraved pleasure at his utter servitude to the other man's whims. He whined and writhed at the dark sound of pleasure Aizen made in his throat as he continued to kiss him, lips and tongue demanding, possessive… a kiss of absolute _ownership_.

Aizen released him and Ichigo sighed with bliss. "Get dressed now," the older man directed. "We're almost at the exit."

Still wrapped up in his high, Ichigo began wriggling into his clothes. "Where are we going, anyway?" he mumbled.

"You know I own a pharmaceuticals company, don't you?"

Ichigo flushed. He remembered all his research, almost stalking, of his teacher. "Yeah," he muttered, embarrassed.

Aizen flashed him a quick, smug smile. "I would have expected no less of you, Ichigo. I chose you for your intelligence as well as your appearance, you know."

"Wha—" Ichigo began, confused.

"Come now. Surely you don't believe I give just anyone the pleasure of my body, merely because they're attracted to me. I selected you from quite a large population of applicants." Aizen smirked as he glanced sideways at the younger man. "In any event, we are going to one of my labs, where I have someone I would like you to meet." He swung onto an exit, began slowing on the off-ramp.

They continued driving in silence as Ichigo finished pulling on the rest of his clothes. Both sides of the road were heavily forested now, and they passed a number of turnoffs where Ichigo caught glimpses of large gates through the trees, and in one case, even what looked like a tall guard tower at the corner of a high fence.

Finally, Aizen turned off onto an unmarked, wide road paved in dark asphalt, and drove up to a gated entrance. The guard at the gate came to attention as they approached. Aizen gave him a lazy wave of one hand and the guard bowed his head in recognition as the gate in front of them slowly began to slide open. They accelerated through the gate and followed the road as it wound up a hill. Ichigo gasped in astonishment as they rounded the final curve and he saw that they had reached the top of the hill, where a huge white building that looked like a fortress commanded a breathtaking view of the surrounding forested countryside. The forests spread beneath them, undulating off into the misty distance where they faded into the foothills beneath the first slopes of the western mountain range.

Aizen pulled the car into a parking spot marked "Reserved" right beside the main entrance. Ichigo got out, gaping at the impressive array of chrome and glass fronting the large white building. He followed as Aizen strode off down the walkway toward the entrance.

Once again they were immediately passed through security at the front gate inside the building, and Aizen led the way toward a long escalator ahead. Ichigo again found his mouth hanging open as he leaned his head back to gawk at the vast, ten-story-tall foyer hung with what looked like thin strips of mirrors, twirling and spinning in the faint winds in the huge lobby, sending glittering motes of light to confuse and dazzle the eye as they stepped onto the escalator. The lobby and escalators were crowded with people; Ichigo again stared as he saw many men in business suits, including Arabs in exotic headdresses and caught snatches of conversations in multiple languages.

He looked back at Aizen. This wasn't just some small company the man owned; it looked like a huge multinational corporation. He was becoming more and more confused as to why the older man had chosen to take a job as a high school chemistry teacher, for goodness sake. What was really going on here?

They got off the long escalator at the top and Aizen led the way to a large set of glass double doors. He passed a key card over a sensor at the entrance and they entered. At the end of a long passageway was another door, this one heavy and with only a small window of thick, wired glass at eye level. There was a large red light bulb over the door with a sign proclaiming in large block letters, "DANGER. DO NOT ENTER WHEN FLASHING." The trefoil warning of radiation danger was also placarded above the door, with another sign stating, "NO UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY WITHOUT RADIATION TRAINING."

Smirking, Aizen pushed open the door and motioned for Ichigo to enter ahead of him. The orange-haired youth swallowed, but obeyed. Once inside, he saw that he was in a large, well-equipped chemistry laboratory. It was filled with glassware with odd liquids bubbling inside over heating elements, and many mysterious machines whirring and clanking. At the far end, one man was sitting at a lab bench, his back to them. He was wearing a white coat, and his shoulder-length hair actually appeared to be pink. He turned around to face them as they approached.

"Szayel. This is Kurosaki Ichigo." The man tilted his head to examine Ichigo. He wore lab goggles with heavy white frames, and his eyes appeared absurdly huge behind them. Ichigo felt his skin crawl as the man looked him over. He had a creepy smirk on his face and his eyes were just spooky. "Ichigo, this is Dr. Grantz, one of my top scientists."

The two exchanged greetings and then Aizen said, "Ichigo is our first research subject."

In shock, Ichigo spun to face Aizen. "What? What do you mean? You never told me…" he sputtered, but then stopped as he felt a pinprick at his neck. He whirled back, his heart suddenly pounding, only to see the pink-haired scientist smirking and holding a now-empty syringe. "What's this…?" he said, and then he felt the room begin to spin around him. Gasping, he slid to his knees, and then darkness took him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Dancing Lessons Redux Chap. 3**

**A/N: **Thanks to all of my readers and reviewers and the many people who favorited this or put it on story alert! Even though it's been a while since I updated, I'm amazed by the response. I'm very glad people are enjoying this story. In this chapter, there's some actual plot development as well as more smut. There will be no torture or non-con sex because Aizen is too awesome to stoop to something like that...

**Pairings:** Aizen x Ichigo.

**Warnings: **yaoi, lemon. Do not read if you are under 18 or do not like yaoi. You have been warned.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or **Kelsey L Leigh**'s _Dancing Lessons_. All characters are 18 years or older in this story.

(Originally posted 7/7/2011.)

XxXxXxX

Aizen watched as Szayel finished strapping Ichigo's naked body to the hospital bed. He ran his eyes over Ichigo's well-muscled body, the young, taut flesh, the fine features of his face beneath all that bright orange hair, the sweet and sulky mouth that was almost irresistible. As the pink-haired scientist moved to a bank of equipment at one side of the bed and began running through some tests, Aizen leaned in to Ichigo's full, slightly parted lips and began kissing him thoroughly. Ichigo moaned and returned the kiss sluggishly, even though he was still unconscious.

Aizen smirked as he straightened. Ichigo had responded to him during the kiss, and Aizen reached down to swirl his fingers along the youth's skin lazily. Ichigo moaned again and struggled briefly against his bonds.

"Hmm, he responds to you on an entirely visceral level, doesn't he?" Szayel had paused in his work to watch Aizen playing with his captive.

The brown-haired man's eyes were dark with pleasure. "Of course."

"Are you completely sure he'll remain under your control? You moved pretty fast with this one. What if he rebels?" Szayel quirked an eyebrow as Aizen idly traced a path with his fingers down the sides of Ichigo's torso and watched his subject's breath catch.

"He won't rebel." Aizen met Szayel's eyes over the bed. "And if he does, I'll destroy him." His deep voice was casual and Szayel had to suppress a shudder. Everyone who knew Aizen's true nature was terrified of the man. Szayel busied himself with his work. He himself had witnessed how Aizen disposed of rebellious or suspicious subordinates. It was purely terrifying. He reminded himself that he was a brilliant scientist who was extremely useful to Aizen and his ambitions. He decided to change the subject to a more pleasant topic.

"So how's life in high school?" he asked, smirking.

Aizen smiled. "Ah," he sighed, "it is pure delight, all that raw, youthful energy… so unformed… so malleable." His eyes turned once more to Ichigo lying bound on the bed. "I could have taken my pick of dozens of suitable young things, all lusting after me. But this one…" he trailed his fingertips once more over Ichigo's face, watched the boy sigh and turn his face into Aizen's palm. "This one pleases me above all others. Not only does he have a lovely body, but he is strong-willed, fierce, and intelligent." He smirked at Szayel. "And oh yes, lived by a rigid moral code."

Szayel noted the past tense and grinned lasciviously at his master. "That must have been fun. How long did it take you to corrupt him? Not too long, I expect, as that is your specialty."

Aizen chuckled. "All it usually takes is a single night. In this case, of course, there were a few weeks of preparation in the classroom." He smiled down at the unconscious boy. "Unrequited lust can have a powerful disintegrating effect on moral fiber."

The pink-haired scientist chuckled in response as he continued with his work. "Did you find other suitable candidates?"

"Yes." Aizen's voice was lazy and caressing. "Several, as a matter of fact, most with ties to this one. Indeed, I plan to pick up the next one tonight."

"Good," said Szayel. "I'll make sure to be ready."

There was silence in the room for a few minutes as Szayel completed his preparations.

"There," he said. "All done." He inclined his head and his voice sobered. "When would you like me to begin the procedure, Aizen-sama?"

Aizen's smirk vanished. "At once. I want to be contacted immediately if there any difficulties. And notify me about half an hour before he regains consciousness. I want to be here when he wakes up."

Szayel bowed his head as the other man swept out of the room. "It shall be done exactly as you wish, Aizen-sama."

XxXxXxX

Ichigo struggled to open his eyes. His dreams had been disturbing, filled with intense sexual desire and violence. He felt sluggish and sleepy, and he hurt all over, but vaguely, as if he wasn't fully inside his own body. As he pushed himself to wake up, his lids finally opened. The room was brightly lit, but there were no windows. He tried to sit up, but then realized with a flare of anger that he was in restraints. And that he was naked beneath the sheets. The memory of Aizen taking him to his lab, of that freaky pink-haired scientist injecting him with something, suddenly surfaced, together with outrage at how he had been treated. His eyes fell on Aizen, sitting quietly on a chair at the other end of the room.

The man met his eyes. –_How are you feeling, Ichigo?_

–_I've been better, you bastard! What did you do to me? Let me up!_

–_I'm afraid I can't do that, Ichigo. _Aizen smiled._ Believe me; it's for your own good. You are still in recovery from the operation, and it would harm you if you started walking around. You need to remain under medical observation for a few days._

Ichigo struggled with his bonds._ –What the fuck did you do to me? I never agreed to this!_

–_On the contrary, Ichigo_. Aizen held up a form of some sort. _I have your signed consent right here. Don't you remember?_ His tone was mocking.

Ichigo stopped his silent, furious struggle for a moment to glare at Aizen. The man was sitting, the picture of relaxed superiority, in his chair, eyes alight with amusement as he watched Ichigo. He was clearly enjoying the sight of Ichigo helpless and angry in the restraints. When he noticed Ichigo's eyes on his face, he paused to lick his lips slowly and deliberately. Ichigo flushed as he felt a sudden, hot flare of arousal run through him again. Still, just because the man was beastly sexy didn't mean he had the right to capture him and experiment on him. Unless… he searched his memory again… had he truly signed a consent form?

–_Don't you remember, Ichigo? I promised to give you the powers of a god, and you agreed to the experiment._

–_What?_ asked Ichigo, confused.

–_Haven't you noticed how we've been speaking?_ The man smiled, and Ichigo became aware for the first time that he wasn't moving his mouth as he talked.

–_What's going on?_ asked Ichigo, now totally befuddled, as he realized that his mouth was bound shut with some type of device. How could he speak? Was he still dreaming?

Aizen walked over to him, still smirking, and casually ran his fingers through the boy's hair. _–You agreed to become the first of a new breed of supermen, Ichigo. We're speaking telepathically._ His smile turned dark and lascivious. _When I first mentioned it, you became quite excited about the idea of being in permanent telepathic contact with me._ The man gently slid a long-fingered hand under the covers and teased Ichigo with his touch.

The boy flushed again even as he felt himself getting excited. He moaned in his throat and bucked his hips against Aizen's hand.

–_So, have you calmed down enough to have a civil conversation?_ asked Aizen. He continued to fondle and stroke the boy under the covers. His touch felt like silk and left trails of fire on Ichigo's skin.

–_Mmgh_, the boy said. With a rush, all his desire for Aizen had come back, and he no longer cared what happened, as long as he could have the man sexually. Had he truly agreed to some procedure to give him telepathic powers? He couldn't remember; but it was true, if he could be in constant contact with the man he would agree to anything. Briefly, he wondered why he really didn't care about the implications of being telepathic. Right now, he only wanted one thing. His emotions, it seemed, had been turned upside down ever since he met Aizen. He met the older man's gaze with burning eyes. _Fine. I agree to anything you say. Only fuck me now._

Aizen's eyes sparkled with pleasure. He chuckled and reached down to undo the device sealing Ichigo's mouth. _–I think that's enough profanity, Ichigo. It offends me, and you wouldn't want to offend me, now, would you?_

The gag released, Ichigo groaned, and wriggled again in his bonds. _– I want you. _He could feel himself growing painfully aroused.

Aizen smiled. With one fluid gesture, he threw the covers off of Ichigo and allowed his eyes to take in the arousing sight of the orange-haired youth flushed and panting in the restraints. Then he slowly bent his face to Ichigo's straining mouth and kissed him hard, plunging his tongue into the boy's eager mouth, nipping at Ichigo's lips until he felt them become swollen and ripe under his ministrations. The youth looked at him with intense, sulky brown eyes.

–_Take me_, he begged. _Take me hard._

Aizen chuckled as he removed his clothes and folded them neatly on the chair. Szayel might say the boy was not fully recovered yet for such treatment, but Aizen decided to throw caution to the winds. Ichigo was just impossible to resist, lying there tied up and naked and begging. He was going to take him, and take him roughly, just as Ichigo wanted. He quickly bent down and unlatched the restraints. Ichigo started to sit up.

–_No_, Aizen directed. _Turn over. I want you lying on your stomach._

The youth complied instantly, and lay motionless as Aizen refastened the restraints in the new position. Aizen smirked again. Then he slid onto the head of the bed, stroking Ichigo's thick mop of hair as he settled himself into a position straddling Ichigo's head. He leaned back against the headboard and sighed with anticipation.

–_Begin_, he instructed.

Ichigo strained to lift his head. His eyes were dazed with lust and the cocktail of drugs Aizen had directed Szayel to insert into Ichigo's IV. Aizen groaned with heavy pleasure.

He bucked his hips hard into the boy, feeling him choke, and yanked on his hair roughly, using him for his own pleasure without regard to how Ichigo felt. Yet through the telepathic link he could sense that that was exactly what Ichigo wanted, and that added to his own desire. He closed his eyes. Ichigo was astonishingly skilled for one with so little experience. Of course, Aizen smirked to himself, the youth was highly motivated. He gasped and threw his head back, relishing the sensation of having a gorgeous young man at his command, bound, helpless, and so willing to do anything, absolutely anything, to give him sexual pleasure. He could feel his climax building, and he wound his fingers into Ichigo's hair. A moan tore loose from his throat at the intensity of it all. The boy turned him on like few of his partners ever had. He gasped in ecstasy as he reached climax, the boy obediently watching him with those lovely warm brown eyes.

Aizen couldn't stand it. The youth's submission drove him wild. With another moan, he pulled himself loose from Ichigo's mouth and crawled down over the bed, pausing to trail a long, wet line of kisses all along the youth's torso. He could feel Ichigo's desperate arousal through the link, and he smiled again.

His eyes closed in rapture, sweat soaking his usually immaculate hair, he felt Ichigo's intense passion in addition to his own, and the feedback loop of the telepathic link amplified and magnified his own sensations until he thought his body would burst into flames. This time they came in unison, and the waves of pleasure echoed and reinforced and throbbed over and over again until Aizen felt a rough cry forced from his own throat as the two of them cried out with what sounded like a single voice. He collapsed on top of Ichigo's body, for a moment unable to move, unable to think, scarcely able to breathe. Ichigo lay panting and spent beneath him, dizzy, drifting in and out of consciousness.

There was a click at the door and Szayel entered. He paused at the sight that greeted him: two astonishingly sexy men lying naked on the bed, one atop the other, Aizen's brown hair lying tousled over the mess of spiky orange hair beneath him, the scent of sex hanging heavy in the room. Then he said coolly, "Well, Aizen-sama, didn't I warn you not to play with your toys too soon? I don't think he's quite recovered yet."

"That's enough from you," said Aizen without heat as he rolled over and lay naked and unashamed on the bed beside the now unconscious Ichigo.

Szayel's eyes wandered up and down Aizen's nude body, pink eyebrows raised with approval. "I wouldn't mind joining you myself," he remarked, "but that boy really needs to rest or he's at risk of physical damage, and he won't be able to perform the tasks you have planned for him. You really need to stop indulging yourself, Aizen-sama," he continued with a smirk.

Aizen ignored him as he got up and wrapped a white silk robe around himself. "Try not to drool too much, Szayel," he said drily. "Now, I want Ichigo examined and a report sent to me within the hour." He smirked. "It's time for me to go to school, to impart my wisdom to all those impressionable young minds."

"Of course, Aizen-sama," said Szayel. "Will you be bringing back the next candidate today?"

"Yes," said Aizen, tying the sash of his robe and scooping up his clothes. "Make sure you have a place prepared for them." He held Szayel's gaze with his own. "And I want Ichigo kept sedated and undisturbed. I want his recovery to proceed on schedule, and I want to be the only person he has contact with." He narrowed his eyes. "I will hold you personally responsible for his care. Do you understand, Szayel?"

Szayel suppressed another shiver at the menace in Aizen's tone. "Of course I do, sir. I'm not stupid. No one will touch or have contact with the boy until you return. I will see to it personally."

"Good. I'm glad you understand." And with that he was gone, and Szayel let out a long sigh of relief. Then he bent to his examination of the youth, clicking his tongue slightly at the new bruising and streaks of dried blood on his charge's body. Aizen could be quite rough with his toys.


	4. Chapter 4

**Dancing Lessons Redux Chap. 4**

**A/N: **No actual lemon this chapter, just implications, sorry. ;) But finally there is some plot development.

**Warnings: **yaoi. Do not read if you are under 18 or do not like yaoi. You have been warned.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or **Kelsey L Leigh**'s _Dancing Lessons_. All characters are 18 years or older in this story.

(Originally posted 7/10/2011.)

XxXxXxX

Ichigo sighed and relaxed into the soft leather bucket seat in the front of Aizen's Porsche as the other man accelerated sharply up the freeway onramp. He felt amazingly satisfied and at peace, despite the sharp left turn his life had taken recently. Aizen had made Ichigo call his father the first night out and lie that he was spending a couple of nights at Keigo's place. So far, no one seemed to have noticed that anything was going on. Somehow, Ichigo was able to sneak out to have wild sex with his teacher on a daily basis, and even get operated on in some freaky lab, and his dad was clueless. Ichigo scowled. Why had he wasted all those years being a good kid when nobody even noticed when you were being bad?

He closed his eyes for a moment. He still felt tired and dizzy. It might be that he was still recovering from whatever the creepy pink-haired guy had done to him at Aizen's command, or maybe it was because he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before due to staying up half the night having outrageous sex with Aizen in his hospital bed.

He grinned to himself. In any case, it was worth it, even when he had ripped out his IV for the second time and the alarm Szayel had rigged had gone off, waking up half the night staff and dragging a grouchy pink-hair out of his bed to berate them at length for their undisciplined behavior.

Ichigo's lips quirked into a smile at the memory. Aizen had sat, completely naked and utterly relaxed, in a chair beside the bed, calmly listening to Szayel's tirade with a faint smirk on his face. The entire time he had been stroking Ichigo possessively and even fondling him right in front of Szayel. Ichigo shook his head. The man was completely shameless.

When Szayel had finally wound down, Aizen had said quietly, "Are you finished, Szayel?" At the man's glare, he had said, "Now, I want you to examine Ichigo, bandage his wounds, and reconnect his IV. That will be all."

Fuming, Szayel had set about obeying Aizen's orders. "I won't be held responsible if he is damaged by your irresponsible and careless behavior, Aizen-sama."

Aizen's voice turned cold. "You just do your job and obey my orders, Szayel. That is all you're responsible for. See that you perform correctly or you will suffer the consequences."

The pink-haired man lowered his eyes. "Of course, Aizen-sama."

Ichigo had found himself quite entertained by the way everyone was so submissive to his lover. Personally, he thought Szayel was just jealous. It had to be hard for him, Ichigo thought with amusement, to see a mere teenager and test subject repeatedly fucking the sexiest man in existence.

He leaned over the side of the bucket seat to rest his head on Aizen's shoulder, and then slid down to lie in his lap. Aizen laid one hand nonchalantly on the steering wheel, and the other stroked Ichigo's hair rhythmically as the youth lay with his head thrown back onto the man's long, slender legs encased in tight black slacks. Ichigo wantonly rubbed his cheek on the older man's legs and smiled as he heard the hitch in the older man's breath.

"Now, Ichigo," Aizen chided, "I thought we were to discuss serious matters this morning, but if you are going to distract me again, you know where we will end up."

Ichigo grinned up at the other man. "Is that really so bad?"

"Yes," said Aizen. "There are important matters that you will need to know about." He switched to telepathic communication. _– And these matters must only be discussed this way. It is imperative that there be no evidence in the event of listening devices being placed upon my or your person._

Ichigo scowled. –_Aren't you being a bit paranoid? Why would anyone want to listen to a high school teacher and his student?_

–_You're an intelligent person, Ichigo. You must surely have realized that I am not merely a high school teacher. I am here for a reason, and there are much larger plans in motion that you are now a part of._

–_What? _asked Ichigo sullenly, squirming on Aizen's lap. Personally, all he was really interested in right now was exploring all the new delights his lover had introduced him to.

–_Haven't you ever considered, Ichigo, _Aizen began, his voice oddly serious,_ what a terrible state the world is in? Wars, poverty, injustice, unnecessary illness and suffering? Humans can have powers approaching those of gods, and yet they wallow in filth and stupidity, killing one another off, wasting precious world resources, and destroying the planet that gave them life._

Ichigo stared up at Aizen, surprised. –_Well, yeah, of course. But what should _you _care about any of that? _he asked somewhat belligerently. _You're the one who told me that ethics were only a limitation._

Aizen's lips curled into a slow smile. –_Of course, Ichigo. I am operating purely out of self-interest, naturally. You see, I do not wish for _my _world to be destroyed._

–_What are you talking about? _asked Ichigo, thoroughly puzzled now.

–_For too long, this world has proceeded on its way without guidance, _Aizen went on. _It is leaderless, and as result blunders from crisis to crisis, at times with horrendous cost in lives and resources. The world is crying out for a strong leader, but the throne of this world has been vacant for too long. _He met Ichigo's eyes. _I intend to remedy that defect._

–_You're… what? _Ichigo said. _That's crazy. I don't believe it. You're insane._

–_Am I? _asked Aizen calmly. _I already have many of my plans in place. I have gathered a vast amount of wealth, have many followers, have stockpiled substantial amounts of weaponry, have agents highly placed all over the world. All that is remaining to accomplish now is to form the core of my new army. An army of young men and women with superpowers, who will be able to take command of this world in my name._

Ichigo's jaw dropped open. –_You can't be serious._

–_On the contrary, I am deadly serious, Ichigo. _Aizen looked down at him. _Do you know how close this world has come to nuclear war and utter annihilation, not once, not twice, but at least five times over the past sixty years?_

Ichigo stared at him, now bewildered and frightened. –_No…_

–_It was only my agents, strategically placed and acting upon my orders, who have been able to exert a modicum of control over the foolish and greedy men who control many of this world's governments, and avert disaster._

Ichigo felt cold wash over him, and he pulled himself out of Aizen's lap to sit upright in the bucket seat, staring at him with wide and frightened eyes. Aizen reached out to take his hand, which had become cold. The brown-haired man's fingers were warm as usual as he pressed Ichigo's hand reassuringly.

–_Don't worry, Ichigo, _he said, smiling. _Everything is proceeding according to my plan, and the world is safe for the moment._

–_How… how old are you? _asked Ichigo with some trepidation.

Aizen smiled. –_Older than I look. And that's all you need to know, Ichigo, _he said, the firmness in his voice cutting off further questions. _I have been working toward this end for a long time, and now I am at the final stage, that of gathering my personal army._

–_So that's why you're at our high school… _Ichigo's mental voice trailed off.

Aizen smiled at him with approval. –_Good. I'm glad you understand so quickly. I have invented a process that will make gods out of men. But it works best on those who have just passed the brink of puberty, like you, when you are at your physical peak, bursting with energy, yet still flexible and unformed enough for your brains to adapt to your new abilities. Telepathy, you see, is only the beginning._

–_And… _Ichigo faltered,_ you want me to be a part of this army?_

–_I want you to be first among this elite group, which I am calling my Espada, _Aizen replied.

Ichigo felt a twisting of fear within him. This wasn't what he had signed up for when he decided to follow this man. But then he looked at the gorgeous face of his lover, the huge and intense brown eyes, and his resolve firmed. He had agreed to obey Aizen's every command, and indeed, nothing else mattered to him other than being by his side. Why would he not obey this greater command, and follow him regardless of the cost, whether it led to great glory or ignominious death? If Aizen turned out to be insane, then, well, Ichigo would go down beside him. If he were telling the truth… Ichigo's heart thrilled… then he would follow him to the top of the world.

He turned and met Aizen's eyes. –_Yes, _he said with fervor. _I will follow you wherever you lead, and I will give my life to protect you._

Aizen smirked with satisfaction. –_Good, _he said, and his mental voice was lazy and replete. _I knew I chose well when I selected you. _He reached down and stroked Ichigo lazily, and the youth stretched and purred under his hand, rubbing himself against him.

Aizen's smile became lascivious and he finally spoke aloud, in that deep, vibrating voice that made Ichigo feel weak with desire every time he heard it. "Take off your pants, then," he commanded, "and I'll give you your reward, Ichigo."


	5. Chapter 5

**Dancing Lessons Redux Chap. 5**

**A/N: **I've been surprised by the response to this story, which was really just written for fun, as opposed to certain of my other stories that actually have a real outline and a plot. So… I decided this story deserved a bit more care. I went back and edited the earlier chapters to improve some of the writing and characterizations.

Thanks to **Eldar-Melda** for your suggestions… I changed a few things based on your comments to make Ichigo a bit more in character. Hope it helps.

EDIT 7/23/2011: Thanks so much to those who reviewed this chapter, especially **Raicheru, lotus-bugxm9, Eldar-Melda, SakaSandora, **and** chukle**, for pointing out the "creepy ick factor" which I have now edited out. I really appreciate your feedback. I knew there was something wrong with the chapter but I wasn't sure what.

And thanks to all of you, including **OfeliaWolf, Panruru**, **SAKI-SHUNKA, HelloKittyLover12343, kisagi, Aichi100, HI, bayatmoon, LemonAsem, Sayomi-hime**, and **Lola** for the encouragement. :)

**Warnings: **yaoi, lemon. Do not read if you are under 18 or do not like yaoi. You have been warned.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or **Kelsey L Leigh**'s _Dancing Lessons_. All characters are 18 years or older in this story.

(Originally posted 7/21/2011; edited 7/23/2011.)

XxXxXxX

Ichigo was sitting in his family's living room watching TV with his dad when the doorbell rang. Looking puzzled, Isshin got up to answer it.

"Who the hell could be coming by so late?" Isshin grumbled. Then he opened the door and Ichigo heard his exclamation of polite surprise, followed by an apologetic murmur from the visitor.

"No… no… you're not disturbing us. Please come in."

Ichigo looked up as Isshin led his guest in from the entry hall… and at the sight of the visitor a wave of fury and emotion drenched him. His heart started pounding so hard he could almost see it pulsating beneath his shirt.

Aizen stood in the doorway, his eyes mild and apologetic behind his glasses. His tousled brown hair fell over his forehead. "I'm so sorry, Kurosaki-san, but I decided it would be best if I brought some of your son's work by, since he's missed some school lately."

Isshin's brows lowered. "What?" he asked, shooting a glare at Ichigo. "Have you been missing school?"

"No," lied Ichigo sullenly. He scowled at Aizen, standing there looking meek and ineffectual but devastatingly sexy. Ichigo bit his lip. He just wanted to reach out and sweep the soft locks away from his lover's face. He could feel his blood pounding in his head and along with his anger, powerful twinges of arousal. He was furious at both his traitorous hormones and Aizen's perfidy. Isshin hadn't suspected a thing about Ichigo's recent spotty attendance record; why was Aizen bringing up Ichigo's absences when the only reason he had missed school was because of _him_? He considered telepathic contact with his lover but then realized he was too angry at the man to initiate such an intimate connection.

Aizen merely smiled hesitantly at Ichigo, steadfastly staying in character. "We're covering an important chapter on acid-base redox reactions, and I wanted to make sure a good student like Kurosaki-san didn't fall behind."

Isshin scratched the back of his head. "Why, that's sure kind of you, Aizen-sensei. I'm sure Ichigo really appreciates your thoughtfulness." He beetled his brows at Ichigo, who grunted and took the stack of papers ungraciously.

Isshin said, "Can I offer you anything, Aizen-san? A glass of wine?" Ichigo glared. Why was his father trying to drag out the situation? Just to annoy him? It wasn't like him to be so polite to a late-night visitor.

Aizen gave Isshin a gentle, hesitant smile, and said softly, "I don't mind if I do, Kurosaki-san. Thank you very much."

Isshin turned off the TV. "Please, have a seat, sir. I'll be right back." Aizen walked to the couch and sat down carefully, his movements slightly fussy, his legs together primly as he sat. He smiled a friendly, open smile at Ichigo, who scowled in return.

As soon as his father left the room, Ichigo hissed at Aizen, "What are you doing here? Are you crazy?"

Once they were alone, Aizen relaxed and smirked at Ichigo, stretching out one arm along the back of the family couch, looking very much at home. "I wanted to see the inside of your house, Ichigo." He looked around, noting the furnishings, his eyes dwelling on the oversized portrait of Masaki. Sullenly, Ichigo followed the man's gaze around the room. He couldn't help but compare his comfortable but shabby house with its worn and mismatched furnishings, to Aizen's elegant and richly appointed mansion. The muscles on his upper thighs and in his fists clenched painfully at the thought of having his illicit lover right here in his own house.

"Now, really, Ichigo," Aizen said smoothly, "you need to be more comfortable with our relationship."

"Are you nuts?" said Ichigo, gawking at his teacher. "You yourself said it's completely wrong and no one can find out."

"Is that true?" murmured Aizen. He narrowed his eyes. "Come here."

"What?"

"You heard me. I gave you an order. Sit here by me."

As Ichigo gaped, the brown-haired man stood up quickly, looped his arms around Ichigo, and gathered his lips in a passionate kiss. Ichigo struggled against the strong grip of the older man, pushing him away fiercely even as the kiss turned him on beyond belief. Finally Aizen released him, smirking. "Ichigo," he said in a low voice, "you really need to relax."

Ichigo stared at him, red-faced and panting. "What the fuck are you trying to do?"

"Oh, Ichigo," the older man said, laughing. "It's so much more fun when there's a chance of getting caught."

"You are totally fucking crazy!" burst out Ichigo in an undertone, but Aizen had sat down again, folded his hands in his lap, and looked every inch the quiet, bookish teacher, as Isshin re-entered the room with two glasses of wine.

Aizen took one with a murmur of thanks, and the two raised their glasses to each other before sipping the wine. Then Aizen began engaging Isshin in desultory conversation while Ichigo fumed. He couldn't wait to get away. He couldn't believe his idiot dad was engaging in stupid conversation with _Aizen _right there in his fucking living room.

Isshin yawned widely, and Ichigo wondered if Aizen would take the hint and leave. But instead, he began telling another story in a soft, almost monotone voice. Isshin was trying to be polite and pay attention, but Ichigo could see he was incredibly bored. Then Isshin's eyes slid closed right in the middle of one of Aizen's sentences and his head dropped forward. He emitted a loud snore, jerked his head up briefly, and then slowly tipped over on the couch, soundly asleep.

Ichigo gawked open-mouthed at his dad. Goat-face did get bored easily, but he had never seen him outright fall asleep in front of a guest. He glanced up at Aizen.

The man's eyes had become knowing and amused behind his glasses, his expression suddenly completely different from that of the mild-mannered teacher.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "What did you do to him?"

Aizen raised his eyebrows. "So suspicious. You don't think that he was simply bored with my long and involved stories?"

Ichigo glared at him. "I know you."

Aizen chuckled. "So you do." He rose and walked over to the sleeping man on the couch, bent to trace the curve of his cheek with long fingers. "Only a couple of knockout drops in his wine." He straightened and smiled at Ichigo reassuringly. "Don't worry. He'll remember only that he became very sleepy and his guest politely excused himself." He half-lifted Isshin and rearranged him on the couch.

"What are you doing?" Ichigo demanded as Aizen started to undo the top button of Isshin's shirt. Aizen shot him a wicked glance under half-lidded eyes.

"Come here, Ichigo," he said, sitting down on the couch beside Isshin.

"Oh no," said Ichigo, backing away. "No. That's going too far. I'm not going to make out in front of my dad, even if he is asleep."

Aizen shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, very well," he said. "I wouldn't want to make you too uncomfortable, Ichigo."

Ichigo deflated, his defiant glare melting. He hadn't expected Aizen to give in that easily.

Relaxing on the couch, Aizen stretched his arms up toward the ceiling lazily. With a sidelong glance at Ichigo, he set his glasses on the end table and swept his hair back from his face. Then he cut his eyes toward Isshin and his lips twitched. A wicked light lit his eyes. Slowly, he reached into his bag and drew out a joint, rolling it carefully in his long fingers. Then, smirking, his eyes on Ichigo's, he pulled out a lighter and lit the joint.

"No," shouted Ichigo, waving ineffectually at the smoke. "We're not allowed to smoke here! My sisters are upstairs!"

"They're asleep, Ichigo," Aizen said, taking a drag from the joint and slanting a glance at Ichigo out of lidded eyes. "Come here."

His voice was commanding once again, and Ichigo groaned. He just couldn't help himself when Aizen gave him orders in that tone of voice. He slowly walked forward and knelt on the floor in front of the brown-haired man, who held out the joint to him. Obediently, Ichigo took a deep hit. Then another, and another.

"Take off your clothes, Ichigo," Aizen said, again in that commanding voice. He leaned back on the couch and put one arm around Isshin, his eyes dancing with mischief as he watched Ichigo undress. Isshin gave an abrupt snore, and shifted in his sleep, his mouth falling open. Aizen glanced at him and his eyes took on a devilish glint. He picked up the joint between thumb and forefinger and placed it delicately in Isshin's mouth.

Ichigo stopped undressing. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, don't be so uptight, Ichigo. This won't harm him." Aizen watched as Isshin breathed in deeply, stopped, coughed a bit, and then inhaled again.

Aizen laughed. He directed a sly glance at Ichigo, who was staring, open-mouthed, as his sleeping father breathed in the smoke from Aizen's joint. "Mmm," the brown-haired man murmured, "maybe if I got him high enough, we could wake him up and have him join us." He eyed Isshin speculatively. "But he's not nearly as attractive as you, Ichigo. You must have gotten most of your looks from your mother." He glanced briefly at the large poster. "Still," he remarked, returning his gaze to Isshin, "there is a certain manly appeal to his features."

Eying Ichigo obliquely, he slowly bent down and brought his lips just above Isshin's while Ichigo watched in horror.

Abruptly the man straightened. "Ah, you're right, Ichigo," he sighed. "It would be rather disappointing, if I may say so myself." He stretched languidly and began unbuttoning his own shirt. "Time to turn to other activities."

Ichigo stammered, "You're not seriously expecting us to… uh… right in front of him?"

Aizen gazed at the unconscious Isshin, his eyes dancing. "Why not? Although I do take an inordinate amount of pleasure in corrupting the innocent, it is even more delicious if it can be done right in front of those who feel, for some absurd reason, that they are guardians of that innocence." Then he sighed as he looked at Ichigo's horrified face. "Ah, very well. Even I do have some boundaries. And you are right. I think we would be more comfortable in your bedroom. Shall we go upstairs then?" He stood up and took one last glance at Isshin, whose face was now flushed and his breathing heavy. "And Ichigo, there's no need to be overly concerned about your dear father," he said mockingly as he handed the joint back to Ichigo and watched with a smirk as he took it obediently and inhaled. "Indeed, I think it could be beneficial to him— and to you. You might find that he is somewhat more relaxed tomorrow and perhaps will refrain from awakening you with a blow to the head."

Ichigo looked at his father, then at Aizen, and suddenly he saw the absurdity in the whole situation and began laughing hysterically. He laughed so hard he doubled over and began choking. Aizen watched him with amused patience until he ran down and then took his hand. "Let's go upstairs."

Ichigo scooped up his clothes and obediently followed Aizen upstairs, feeling an odd thrill as he walked up the familiar stairway completely naked, his heart still pounding at the thought of what they were about to do in his own room, with his family sleeping around them. Surely that was terribly wrong. Should he be doing this? But then he sighed. He had to admit that he reveled in the illicit thrills Aizen had introduced him to. And he had already agreed to obey the man's every wish, he thought with a dark curling of desire in his core. The brown-haired man turned down the hallway like he owned the place and walked directly into Ichigo's bedroom. The youth followed, closing and locking the door behind him as Aizen smirked.

The man stood in the center of the room, casually looking over the furnishings, the books on the bookshelf, the messy piles of paper on the desk, the childhood posters on the walls. Ichigo felt himself go a little red at the childishness of the room he had had since he was a baby. But Aizen's face remained neutral until he looked back at Ichigo and his eyes darkened again with lust. He moved to Ichigo's bed and lay down on it, propping his head up on one hand, smirking as his eyes traveled over Ichigo's well-muscled body.

"Undress me," he commanded, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark.

Ichigo hastened to obey. Slowly, he unbuttoned Aizen's fine silk shirt, revealing more of the man's toned and firm chest, and his breathing caught. He wanted to rip the man's clothes off and throw himself on him. He started working on his teacher's pants, sliding them off his legs, pausing to lay wet kisses all over the man's torso and legs. Aizen threw back his head and sighed with pleasure at Ichigo's attentions. The boy drew off the last of his lover's clothes and then sat back to gaze at him once more. Aizen's perfect body was sprawled nude and wanton on his own bed, his eyes dilated with wickedness and lust, and he appeared to Ichigo like a fallen angel, the personification of an evil so beautiful that it made Ichigo yearn to fall at his feet and worship him, as though he were the very devil himself.

With an expression of deep satisfaction, Aizen leisurely pulled Ichigo down on top of him and began kissing and fondling him once again. At his touch, Ichigo felt deep thrills surge repeatedly in waves through his entire body, and he gave a languorous stretch, wriggling sinuously as Aizen stroked him and rolled him over so that Aizen was on top looking down at him. The curl of brown hair fell in between Aizen's dark, wicked eyes as their bodies came together once again.

Ichigo groaned. He couldn't deny the appeal of the forbidden circumstances. He was turned on beyond belief, much as he knew he shouldn't be.

"Isshin," Aizen called softly, "I've corrupted your son completely. Once he was a promising young scholar, but I've turned him into my sex toy. I've used him repeatedly for my own pleasure, and all he wants in life now is to obey my depraved sexual commands." Another laugh was torn out of him. He took a moment to relish the boy's sexual surrender even in such a personal and taboo situation. It was a good indication of solid control, he thought to himself with a self-satisfied smirk. He took in the delectable sight of the youth beneath him, helpless with desire, eyes rolled back in his head, lush mouth half-open and panting, right in the house of the man who was supposed to guard his virginity. It drove him wild as he beheld that sweet, so recently innocent flesh. Aizen felt his vision go bright; he could not hold back a long, loud moan, only to be met by a series of intense, mewling cries from Ichigo.

It took a while for Ichigo to regain awareness of himself as a separate being after the magnitude of the physical pleasure he had just undergone. Aizen sighed as he stroked the bright head of orange hair possessively as the boy's breathing finally came under control. After a moment, Ichigo became aware that he had made something of a mess all over his bed. He looked at it in dismay.

"Oh, no," he said slowly, his tongue feeling thick and sluggish. "I think I better get something to clean that up."

Aizen laughed. "I don't think that will be necessary, Ichigo. They'll just think you had a wet dream tonight. After all," he said as he reached down and held his fingers out to Ichigo, "you're just another frustrated, virgin teenage boy."

At that, Ichigo laughed and kissed his lover full on the lips, delving his own tongue deeply into the other man's warm mouth. Aizen rose up to meet him. After the long, languid kiss they drew back from each other and both sighed, replete with pleasure.


	6. Chapter 6

**Dancing Lessons Redux Chap. 6**

**A/N: **Finally, here is the threesome. Those of you who know me have probably already figured out who it is with. If you only want AiIchi, you can read to the first scene break and skip the rest. The threesome lemon is in the second scene. And yeah… after this chapter it will be AiIchi exclusively. I just had to put my three favorite characters together at least once. My apologies to those of you who don't swing that way.

**Warnings: **yaoi, het, threesome, lemon. Do not read if you are under 18 or do not like any of these.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or **Kelsey L Leigh**'s _Dancing Lessons_. All characters are 18 years or older in this story.

(Originally posted 7/29/2011.)

XxXxXxX

Ichigo shook his head to clear the dizziness out of it as he walked up the front entrance to Karakura High. It had been another nearly sleepless night for him. Aizen hadn't left his room until it was nearly dawn, and when he started yawning uncontrollably, had simply smirked and handed him a pill.

"Better living through chemistry," Aizen said with another smirk. "Don't worry. As one of my Espada, soon you won't even need much sleep. After the next couple of treatments and some training, this will all become much easier."

Ichigo obediently swallowed the pill, and shortly afterward he felt a renewed burst of energy. He had skipped breakfast and walked to school with no problems, but he was still a little unsteady. Aizen's words to him at the end of the night did not make things any easier. It was all quite unsettling.

—_I am in the process of gathering sufficiently powerful men and women to join the ranks of the Espada_, Aizen had told him as they lay in his narrow bed, thoroughly satiated, and, at least on Ichigo's part, incredibly sore. _Within the next few weeks, I will bring you all to a training camp where you will learn to use your new powers in my service_.

"New powers…" mumbled Ichigo, still too hazed from sex and drugs to think clearly about all the implications. —_Will we all be telepathic?_

—_Not necessarily. The process releases innate abilities within each individual, powers that you already have the seeds of now. Each of you Espada will manifest a unique ability. _Ichigo sensed Aizen's smile. _It will be quite interesting to see how each of you develops._

—_What else will I develop besides telepathy?_

—_Some of your abilities I can predict; others I cannot. There are still some mysteries to this process and how it interacts with the human mind. You see, I developed parts of it, but certain secrets… I stole. So I am not totally familiar with its effects._

Ichigo turned to glower at Aizen, who only returned him a mild smile. —_The man who first invented this process, what he called the Hougyoku process, is quite a genius. Urahara Kisuke. You will no doubt be encountering him shortly. _Aizen paused to run his hands over Ichigo's torso slowly, causing the young man to shiver. _Unfortunately, our path to complete control of this world has obstacles, certain individuals who for some reason fail to believe in my ability to bring peace and justice to all. _Ichigo could sense no fear, only dark amusement, in Aizen's thoughts. _They have banded together to oppose me. So you will need to develop your powers to their peak strength in order to fight them._

—_Do these people also have… abilities? How am I expected to fight them?_

—_Well, for one thing, you will learn how to use your mind as a weapon. You should be able to strike against our enemies purely by will alone._ His mental voice sounded languid, satisfied. _With your training, you will learn to control that power; how to restrain it when necessary, how to extend it to strike multiple enemies, how to reach out at a distance._

—_When you say 'strike at enemies,'_ Ichigo said with some hesitation, _do you mean, uh, like kill them?_

He felt Aizen's laugh rumble deep in his chest. —_Are you still clinging to the shreds of a conscience, Ichigo?_ the man asked in a mocking tone. Then his voice became serious. _That will be part of your training. Should you only wish to incapacitate them rather than kill, that will be at your control. And I do not intend to send you out to kill indiscriminately, Ichigo. That would be wasteful, and I am never wasteful. _His tone had become smug. _I intend to defeat our enemies through intelligence and guile rather than brute force. _Then his voice turned chilly. _Nevertheless, you must remember that if I order you to kill, you must obey._

Ichigo shivered, and Aizen had tightened his arms around him. —_Don't worry too much, Ichigo. I promise I will not make you uncomfortable…_ He had laughed again. _At least, not in the way you fear now._

Ichigo shivered again in memory as he climbed the wide front steps of Karakura High. The entire conversation had been very unsettling. It all made Ichigo nervous whenever he thought about it too deeply.

Then he shrugged to himself. It was too late to think about it anyway. He had agreed to obey Aizen. It was obvious that it was too late to back out, even if he wanted to, which he definitely didn't. A subversive thrill ran though him at the thought of his position as Aizen's subordinate and lover. All that really mattered now were his own sensations and desires and his utter infatuation with the man. Who really cared about world domination or politics?

It was so easy when you just thought of things the right way.

To make sure no one asked him any embarrassing questions, he affixed his customary scowl on his face before he entered the school. He realized that he had no clue what had gone on in school during the days he was gone, and what's more, he didn't care. He was Aizen's now, and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. Anyone who messed with him could go to hell. He sauntered up the hall to his locker like he owned the school. A couple of his friends grinned at him and asked him where he'd been, but he ignored them. No one questioned him further and he smirked to himself. Bad behavior had its perks.

Across from his locker, he noticed Inoue talking with her friends. Her fall of auburn hair was especially glossy and beautiful today. Time for some more of the bad behavior he had been planning. With a salacious smirk plastered on his face, Ichigo walked up behind her and swung his arms around her suddenly, burying his face in her hair. "Mmm, you smell good today, beautiful," he murmured.

Orihime squealed. "Kurosaki-kun!" Tatsuki and Chizuru were grinning at Ichigo. As she turned around to face him, Ichigo's jaw dropped in surprise. In the few days since he had seen her last, Orihime's appearance had completely changed. Instead of the fresh-faced, wholesome look he had always known and loved, she was wearing makeup that made her eyes look sultry, and her lips were painted bright red. His eyes traveled down her throat and further, where a gold chain dipped into a scandalously low-cut top that exposed a great deal of her ample bosom.

Ichigo just stood there with his mouth open. At first it was distressing merely because it was a change; but as he continued to stare at her, he realized that Inoue looked downright… hot. She had never dressed this way before, and he felt a flush creeping over his cheeks as he found it both appealing and somewhat shocking. His aching loins stirred and he had to stop himself from just grabbing her and ravishing her then and there.

"Kurosaki-kun," said Orihime in her soft voice, sounding just like herself, and he tore his eyes away from her cleavage to look at her face.

She was blushing bright red as well. Meanwhile, Tatsuki and Chizuru had doubled over with laughter.

"You should see your face, Kurosaki," chortled Tatsuki.

"Yeah," added Chizuru. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Inoue…" said Ichigo, "What…" He trailed off and gestured at her clothes.

Orihime blushed again, lowering her eyes. "Aunt Rangiku gave me a makeover," she said. "She said it was time that I stopped looking like a schoolgirl." She raised her eyes timidly to Ichigo. "Do you like it?" she asked, hesitation and doubt filling her voice.

Ichigo scraped his chin off the floor and managed to close his mouth. "Uh, yeah, Inoue," he said, going beet red. "I, uh, love it." Then he gathered himself together. He wasn't a virgin anymore; why was he blushing like one? He grinned, reached forward, and took Orihime's face in his two hands. "You look… really hot, Inoue." His eyes traveled up and down her body, appraisingly.

He half expected Tatsuki to punch him, but she was grinning with approval.

Ichigo lifted one arm and propped it on the wall behind Orihime and gave her his best suggestive leer. "So, Inoue," he purred, "how'd you like to spend some time together after school, _studying_."

She blushed again, glanced sidelong at Tatsuki and Chizuru, and then looked up at Ichigo. "I'd… I'd like to, Kurosaki-kun." She swallowed. "Uh, we need to talk anyway."

He smirked at her. "Good. See you after school then. I'll walk you home." He swaggered off, smirking.

As he approached his classroom, his head full of lecherous fantasies about his longtime friend, he suddenly remembered his promise to Aizen.

"Shit!" he said aloud. He didn't dare disobey his lord and master. He was about to find a quiet corner where he could pull out his cell phone when he remembered the telepathic contact. Would it work from this distance? He decided to try.

—_Aizen?_ he asked, reaching out into the void the way he had before.

He felt the familiar presence of his teacher. —_Yes, Ichigo?_

—_So, uh,_ Ichigo began, a little belligerently, _is it okay with you if I go over to Inoue's house tonight and, you know, uh…_

He received the mental image of Aizen raising an eyebrow. —_My, aren't you the insatiable one_? he asked_. I suppose I'm not satisfying you if you need to go elsewhere._

Ichigo scowled at nothing as he walked down the hall, scaring a couple of freshmen who scurried away unnoticed. —_That's not it and you know it,_ he said, sulky._You told me it was all right with you as long as I asked permission first_. He felt vaguely guilty and sensed Aizen pausing to enjoy the emotion suffusing his young protégé.

—_Why do you want to sleep with her?_ asked Aizen in a neutral tone.

Ichigo flushed. —_Well,_ he muttered, looking down at his feet. _I still haven't officially broken up with her, and, uh—_

—_And, now that you are tasting your new-found freedom, you were curious to see what it was like to sleep with a woman before you break her heart and lose any further opportunity to score with her,_ Aizen put in smoothly, a slight smirk in his mental voice.

Ichigo turned bright red. —_No! No, it's not like that. I don't want to hurt her,_ he insisted. _She's practically my oldest friend, and she's always had a crush on me, and, uh… it would make her happy if we finally slept together_, he finished lamely.

Aizen laughed out loud. —_Ah, Ichigo, it's so amusing when you delude yourself._ There was a pause. _But no, I have no objections if you indulge yourself with her today. As it happens, I have no duties for you after school this time._ His mental voice darkened. _As long as you realize that I am granting you an exceptional favor, and I shall expect payment in return._

—_Uh, yes, of course,_ Ichigo said hurriedly. _I understand completely, and, uh… thank you,_ he finished with unusual humility.

Aizen chuckled again and cut the connection.

XxXxXxX

Ichigo watched Orihime put the key into the lock of her apartment door with a slightly shaking hand. He grinned at her as she opened the door, feeling lustful excitement about what was about to happen. The entire walk home he had been keeping his hands off her by sheer force of will, his lewd fantasies causing his erection to strain against his pants as she walked down the street in that short, tight skirt with her breasts bobbing under her blouse. She seemed a little nervous, though, he thought. Maybe she still wasn't used to dressing that way. Orihime pushed open the door and they walked in.

Ichigo entered her modest living room and stopped short.

Aizen was reclining at his ease on her couch, his face wearing its customary smirk. He was dressed all in black again, elegant slacks showing off his long legs casually stretched out on the couch, a black silk shirt partially unbuttoned at the throat, exposing his slender throat and part of a well-muscled chest. Ichigo felt anger replace his chagrin. His face darkened. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Orihime rushed forward, her hands fluttering. "No, no, it's okay, Kurosaki-kun," she said. "I asked Aizen-san to be here because I had something important I wanted to tell you."

Ichigo spun to face her, fury on his face. "And so you asked a _teacher_ to be here while we talked about something between the two of us?"

"Now, Ichigo," cut in Aizen smoothly. "That's no way to talk to Orihime." His voice held a slight hint of menace in it, and Ichigo swallowed and stepped back from where he had been advancing on Orihime.

She looked relieved. "Uh, Kurosaki-kun," she began apologetically, "I, uh…"

He looked back at her, his face now filled with confusion. "But Inoue, I, uh, thought we'd have some time _in private_. Isn't that what you wanted?"

She bit her lip. "Well, you see, I wanted to tell you, uh…" She trailed off and looked at Aizen helplessly.

He smiled at her warmly. "Go on, Orihime," he said.

Ichigo looked from one to the other. "What's going on here?" he demanded.

"Shush," said Aizen. "Let Orihime speak."

He looked back at her. She was wringing her hands now. "Uh, Kurosaki-kun, I wanted to tell you that, uh, I've met someone else." She looked away.

"What?" Ichigo blinked. He was taken aback and felt his mouth drop open in surprise. That was the last thing he would have expected her to say. Although he couldn't deny that his ego felt bruised that she would dump him, he also realized that he felt relieved. Despite everything he had been picking up from Aizen, it wasn't that easy to set aside a lifetime of moral values and callously plan on using and betraying a lifetime friend.

He closed his mouth and firmed his lips. It was better this way, he realized. He looked at Orihime, who now appeared as though she were about to cry, and said gently, "It's okay, Inoue. I think it's for the best. I, uh, I'm interested in someone else too." He colored, and avoided looking at Aizen, who was smirking again.

Orihime let out a long sigh. "So you're not angry at me?" she asked in a small voice.

"No, of course not, Inoue," he said, putting a hand out to her to reassure her.

As Orihime smiled nervously, Ichigo glared at Aizen. "I still don't see what you're doing here."

"Ah." Aizen gestured to Orihime and she walked over to sit down next to him on the couch. He put his arm around her possessively and began to stroke her hair languidly while Ichigo stared. He lidded his eyes and glanced sidelong at Ichigo. "You see, Orihime is one of mine now." He trailed his fingers along her face and she leaned slightly into him, lowering her eyes and blushing.

Ichigo's eyes widened. "You don't mean—" he began, looking at the two of them sitting so close side-by-side.

"Oh, no, not what you're thinking," Aizen said, smiling once again. "Orihime has agreed to become one of my Espada, Ichigo."

Ichigo's jaw dropped. "B- But," he stammered, "Inoue's no fighter, Aizen-san."

"On the contrary," Aizen said, continuing to stroke her hair with an air of casual ownership. "Orihime has unique powers. And she'll be making good use of them to further my plans."

Ichigo gawked at them both, still bewildered. "What do you mean?" He gestured at them shakily. "Are you two, uh…"

"I said no, Ichigo," Aizen said. "Orihime has sworn loyalty to me as you have, but she is now promised to another. You'll be meeting him later." He caressed Orihime's face gently. "Although… she has admitted her… attraction to me."

Orihime blushed even more furiously. Ichigo stared at her. He knew she had had a crush on Aizen earlier (of course, what human could fail to be attracted to the man?) but what had been going on between them in his absence? He tried to contact Aizen telepathically but the man blocked his communication, shooting him a wicked, knowing glance.

"What's going on?" Ichigo said, his anger surfacing again.

"It's very simple, Ichigo," said Aizen with another dark smile. "You both belong to me now, and as such, I alone get to dictate your… physical and emotional partnerships." He licked his lips and smiled benevolently at Orihime. "Orihime is under my protection now, and I… arranged for her to meet with a suitable match a few days ago, while you were otherwise occupied."

Ichigo glared. "You mean while you had me tied up in that hospital bed, you were _arranging_ my girlfriend's life? You never told me anything of this! Why didn't I get a say in this? And is this what Orihime wants?" He glanced at her, still sitting in the curve of Aizen's arm, now looking a little stiff and worried.

Aizen chuckled. "Ah, Ichigo, remember, you gave yourself to me. As did Orihime. So… no. You don't have any say." He smiled at the woman at his side once again, his eyes half-lidded. "As for Orihime, I decided what would be best for her and she is more than pleased."

"But…" Ichigo stood there, more confused than ever. "I—"

Aizen interrupted. "Do not worry, Ichigo," he said in soothing tones. "I guarantee that after tonight, you both will be quite pleased with the situation." He stood up gracefully with a last squeeze of Orihime's hand. "Please excuse me," he said politely to both of them.

He went into the kitchen and Ichigo heard the gentle clinking of glassware. Orihime was sitting on the couch, staring down at her hands clasped in her lap, her lips pressed firmly together. After a moment, Aizen returned carrying a tray holding three shot glasses filled with three brightly colored liqueurs, one deep red, one orange, and one amber. He was smiling one of his wicked smiles again as he set the glasses on the coffee table. Settling himself once again comfortably on the couch, he lifted the amber glass and toasted them. "Bottoms up," he said, and upended the glass, draining it in a single swallow.

He handed the deep red glass to Orihime with a gentlemanly half-bow. She took it gamely, looked directly at Aizen for a moment, swallowed once, and then gulped the entire contents, choking slightly, her eyes fixed on his. His smile widened as he returned her gaze.

Ichigo picked up the remaining bright orange glass with some trepidation. Aizen had already poured so many exotic and illegal drugs into Ichigo in the short space of time he had known him. The man seemed to derive pleasure from making Ichigo his own personal chemistry lab and playground without even informing him beforehand. Then he shrugged inwardly. He had made his own decision to place himself in Aizen's hands. He was going to go along for the ride, wherever it took him.

He drained the glass.

Aizen smiled like a cat over a bowl of cream as Ichigo set the glass back down. "Good," he purred. He picked up the tray with a languid flourish and took it into the kitchen. Ichigo heard the sink running as he rinsed out the glasses, no doubt to pour the remaining evidence down the drain.

Ichigo and Orihime looked at each other. He could see a flush deepening on her cheeks, and felt warmth rising in his own body as the unknown chemical took hold of him.

Aizen returned to the living room. "Now then. I have transportation arranged to my house, as," he smiled at Orihime, "your apartment, although cozy enough for one person, lacks certain amenities that I prefer to have near me during an evening of… group indulgence." His eyes lidded. "You see, Ichigo, just as I promised to let you have Orihime, I also promised you to her." His smile was utterly wicked. "However, it's only fair that I be allowed to sample from the delights you each have to offer." He laughed. "I want you both, and I always get what I want. Besides," he said, as he traced the curve of Orihime's jaw with two fingers, "you're all part of my family now, and I want us all to be… very … close."

Ichigo's belligerence drained away as the effects of whatever he had just drunk began to make themselves felt, and dark excitement suffused his body at the thought of the taboo experience Aizen planned for them. Tingling warmth permeated his body as his muscles relaxed. He stared at Orihime's cleavage again and fantasized about how soft her breasts would feel under his hands. Lust rose in his body and almost seemed to choke him.

The next thing he knew, he was sitting in the back of a limousine, sandwiched between Aizen and Orihime. His heart was pounding erratically and his pants were already tight. Aizen's warm leg was pressed against him on one side, and Orihime was leaning on him on the other. Her sultry eyes were half-closed, and strands of her hair fell across his face. He breathed the scent of Orihime in more deeply, feeling it flood him to his core. He looked down and was treated to an expansive view down the neckline of her dress. It crossed his mind dimly that it was strange that he could be so attracted to two people at once. Then he sighed and decided to give in to the decadent pleasure of Aizen's sexual games.

He felt a warm hand on his thigh, and looked up. The brown-haired man had that wicked gleam in his eyes again. Casually, he slid his other arm behind both Ichigo and Orihime and drew Orihime's head to his. She sighed slightly and her breasts pressed into Ichigo's chest as Aizen kissed her full on the mouth only inches away from Ichigo's face.

The sight only served to inflame Ichigo further. He wondered idly what Aizen had put in his drink… and in Orihime's. Certainly something to dispel her inhibitions, he thought with an inward smirk. She was no longer the demure and innocent girl he had known all his life. She was kissing Aizen back, her lush mouth open, eyes closed, and decidedly wanton noises were issuing from her throat.

Ichigo had a sudden suspicion that Orihime was no longer a virgin either, and that Aizen was responsible. Then rational thought ceased as Aizen began to fondle him with one hand while with the other the older man drew a teasing line with a fingertip into the valley between Orihime's breasts.

Orihime moaned and swung a leg onto Ichigo's lap. He rubbed himself against her, making a sound of pleasure deep in his throat. Then she was kissing him, her mouth on his, tasting of liqueur and Aizen, and Ichigo couldn't help himself. He arched his body into Aizen's hand and grabbed the back of Orihime's neck, kissing her harshly and aggressively as he pushed his tongue hard into her mouth. She sighed and relaxed into the kiss, giving a small sound of blissful pleasure. Their tongues tangled and Ichigo softened, taking the time to explore her mouth gently and thoroughly. He felt, for just a second, a tiny pang, as he had a brief vision what his life with Orihime might have been like if he had never met Aizen. Then that momentary thought was burned away in a rush of sensation as Aizen unzipped his fly and began to delicately stroke his overheated skin.

Kissing his sexy and newly wanton girlfriend whose low-cut top, he noticed, had come undone so that her full, soft breasts were spilling out of it, while being fondled by his devastatingly attractive boyfriend in the luxurious back seat of his limo was almost too much for Ichigo to handle. It felt like all his blood was rushing to his head, and he groaned and almost felt himself lose consciousness.

Then they were in Aizen's garage and were exiting the car. Orihime's top was half off, and her dress was partially torn up the side, exposing one long and shapely leg. She had lost one shoe, and stumbled as she got out of the car. Aizen was at her side, steadying her, and she smiled up at him with a dazed, worshipful look and giggled. Ichigo found it both disturbing and arousing to see blatant lust in her once-innocent eyes. He could barely walk himself; he felt befuddled from drugs and dizzy with lust as he staggered up the stairs behind Orihime and Aizen.

By the time he reached Aizen's huge bedroom, the other man had already pulled Orihime into his lap and was fondling her. She was sighing and writhing at his touch. Most of what remained of her clothes were scattered on the floor.

Ichigo grinned lasciviously as he wrapped his arms around them both. "Mmm, Inoue," he murmured, "I see Aizen is already having quite an influence on you." He heard her giggle.

She turned to him, her eyes heavy-lidded and hazy, and rubbed herself against him. "Oh, Kurosaki-kun," she whispered, "if you knew how much I've been longing for this…" She let out a long, pleased sigh. Then their lips met once more and Ichigo's tongue swept into her mouth.

Aizen smiled indulgently at both of them. "To think of all the years the two of you were afraid to act on your desire for each other." He laughed. "Now do you both understand how much better it is to allow me to make all your decisions? I am the only one who knows what's best for you. You see," he continued, "if you stay with me, you will receive everything you desire, and we will stand on top of the world together."

Orihime sighed. "Yes, my body and soul belong to you, Aizen-sama, and are for your purpose and use, always," she slurred.

Aizen gave Ichigo a dark glance as he lifted Orihime and tossed her onto his large bed. She giggled again and spread her legs invitingly, gazing up at them through lowered lashes. At the sight of her sprawled naked on Aizen's elegant bed, the white of her skin and pale gold triangle of hair contrasting with the dark, blood-red sheets, Ichigo felt the heat at his core intensify. He growled and shed his remaining items of clothing and joined her on the bed.

Aizen paused to enjoy the sight of the two formerly innocent teens cavorting brazenly on his bed, their firm, young flesh bared at his command and on display for his amusement and use. He crawled onto the bed and pressed himself against Orihime as she wriggled and moaned. Ichigo was flushed and panting, his orange hair dark with sweat, his skin a lovely shade of rosy red, his eyes half closed as he stroked his fingers through Orihime's hair and kissed her over and over again and the noises in her throat became louder and louder.

Finally they broke apart and Orihime cried out, "Take me! I want both of you to take me now!"

Aizen met Ichigo's eyes which were burning with something indescribable and he laughed.

Then Ichigo took Orihime's hips between his palms, and she sighed and clutched him, her throat tangling with clotted moans.

Aizen's lips were warm at his ear. "Ichigo, I have been taking Orihime for my pleasure for the last few nights. I've claimed her as mine. Remember that you take her now at my command."

Ichigo wanted to glare at his lover, but instead he only groaned. Aizen took hold of Ichigo's head roughly and gave him a brutal, demanding kiss over Orihime's shoulder, biting down on Ichigo's lower lip until the youth tasted the coppery tang of his own blood. He growled like an animal, slamming his body against Orihime's and gripping Aizen with a bruising ferocity. He could feel himself on the edge, rising higher on a wave of pleasure, higher… until the wave crested and he gasped, feeling Aizen joining him in climax while Orihime cried out between them.

Orihime squealed and gasped and finally lay still, quivers rippling over her body, cradled in between the two men. She was smiling, a look of unadulterated bliss on her face as her eyes gradually closed and she sank into sleep.

As Orihime's breathing quieted, Aizen's gaze fell upon Ichigo and his eyes narrowed. A predatory smirk spread over his face and Ichigo could already see what was coming. He could not repress the thrill coursing through his body at the thought of Aizen focusing entirely on him now. The brown-haired man leaned over and started kissing Ichigo hard and possessively on the delicate skin at the base of his neck, sucking and nipping hard enough that Ichigo knew it would leave marks.

Then Ichigo heard a noise at the door of Aizen's bedroom. His heart suddenly pounded in his chest, and he looked up to see a tall, muscular youth with bright blue hair leaning on the doorjamb, a brash, dangerous grin on his face, almost a snarl. He wore a short jacket that exposed a well-built midriff over tight designer jeans. Brilliant blue eyes with a hostile edge bored into Ichigo.

"Tch. Somebody's having too much fun. What are you two doing with my woman?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Dancing Lessons Redux - Chap. 7**

**A/N: **All right. Got that out of my system. Now back to AiIchi, where the focus will stay for the remainder of the story.

**Warnings: **yaoi, lemon. Do not read if you are under 18 or do not like yaoi.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or **Kelsey L Leigh**'s _Dancing Lessons_. All characters are 18 years or older in this story.

(Originally posted 8/6/2011.)

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The blue-haired man in the doorway of Aizen's sumptuous bedroom scowled at the three people lying on the huge bed. He was tall, well-built, a toned abdomen visible beneath the short white jacket he wore open over white slacks clinging to muscular legs. His jaw firmed and his sapphire eyes were hostile as he glanced at Orihime lying sprawled and naked, asleep on the bed. He glared at Aizen.

"What did you do to her this time, you bastard?" he growled. "She's supposed to be _my_ woman, but it seems like every night you get her wasted and bring her here to fuck."

Aizen lay back on the bed, naked and unashamed, the picture of relaxed serenity, and smiled at the newcomer. "Grimmjow, it's a pleasure to see you too." He ran one hand carelessly over Orihime's thigh, smirking as Grimmjow's face darkened further. "I'd like you to meet your new brother, Kurosaki Ichigo."

Ichigo had pulled the bedcovers up over himself when Grimmjow entered the room. Now he sat up abruptly and met the other man's eyes with an unfriendly glower. "Who the fuck is this?" Ichigo demanded of Aizen. "And what makes him worthy of Orihime?"

Aizen's eyes were glittering with delight. He was clearly entertained by his two protégés' conflict. "Meet Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, Espada number six, Ichigo."

The blue-haired man gave Ichigo a dismissive once-over. "Who's this? Your sex toy of the night?" He sneered. "He's cute, I'll give you that." His gaze turned into a leer. "Maybe I'll use him too after you're bored with him."

Ichigo bristled, throwing the covers off completely and balling his fists. "I'd like to see you try, bastard," he shouted, and would have leapt off the bed were it not for Aizen's restraining hand.

Aizen's smirk had widened. "Ichigo will be Espada number one, Grimmjow." He paused, his eyes on Grimmjow, waiting for the man's reaction to Ichigo's rank. At Aizen's words, the other man stiffened. His fists clenched and his eyes narrowed with antagonism as he took a step forward, advancing on Ichigo.

Aizen watched, amused, idly wondering whether he should allow the two of them to fight right here in his bedroom. A delicious image flashed in his mind of the two men circling each other, their muscles rippling beneath firm skin. He could hear the smack of fists into soft flesh, see two pairs of beautiful eyes hot and angry as they focused intently on each other… Reluctantly, he put the idea away. Perhaps later. He had other plans for Ichigo tonight.

"That's enough," he said, and was gratified that both men obeyed him instantly, Ichigo's muscles bunching under Aizen's hand, Grimmjow's jaw clenching as he stepped stiffly back. The blue-haired man looked away for a moment before glancing back at Orihime.

He pointedly ignored them both as he walked over to where Orihime lay on the bed. He reached a muscular arm down to her face and peeled back one eyelid. The woman stirred and murmured something unintelligible. "Tch. High as a kite, as usual." He raised his eyes to Aizen's face and narrowed his eyes. "I want you to stop drugging her, Aizen. It's not good for her."

"And you think it matters one iota what you want, Grimmjow?" Aizen's voice was cool and silky now, but there was a hint of a threat underneath the pleasant tone. He stretched languidly. "I decided it would be amusing to play with her tonight, and you should know by now that the only thing that matters, in this world or any other, is what _I_ want." He pinned a fuming Grimmjow with his gaze, and after a moment the blue-haired man looked away again.

"You yourself told me my job was to protect her," Grimmjow said sullenly. "How can I protect her when you're dosing her with every experimental chemical known to man, and then allowing random dipshits to fuck her?" He gestured at Ichigo angrily.

Ichigo began to surge off the bed again, furious. "Who are you calling a random dipshit, asshole? I've known Orihime since she was a baby. Who the hell are you?" This time Aizen restrained him with a look and a hand on his thigh.

"Grimmjow. If you query your girlfriend in the morning you'll find that she found the evening eminently… satisfying." Aizen's tongue darted out to lick his lips. His glance was dark under lidded eyes. "Orihime has lived much of her life in sadness, allowing her own inhibitions to prevent her from reaching her heart's desires. Now, at last, I have given her undreamt-of pleasure and the family she has never had. She joined us of her own free will and has been happy here." Aizen's voice sharpened. "I suggest you look to your own primitive instincts for an explanation for your undisciplined behavior just now. You will need to get them under control if you wish to remain one of my Espada, Grimmjow. Jealousy is unbecoming in one of my elite soldiers." He held Grimmjow's eyes again until the other man lowered his gaze to hide the smoldering anger in his eyes.

"All right," he mumbled, his eyes on Orihime. "Can I take her to our room now?"

Aizen nodded, indulgent amusement curling his lips.

As the door closed behind Grimmjow and Orihime, Ichigo turned to Aizen, rage burning in his irises. "Under what rock did you find that asshole? And why did you give Orihime to him?" he demanded. "She deserves better."

Aizen leaned back against the pillows, one hand caressing Ichigo's arm until the youth pulled it away from him, an angry frown on his lips. One corner of Aizen's mouth twisted up. "Ichigo. I want you for myself, so I had to keep Orihime happy. I don't want her to feel betrayed and alone. Grimmjow is strong, fierce, loyal underneath that rebellious exterior, and surprisingly intelligent." He eyed the orange-haired boy's pouting lips with amusement. "And," he added, "his personality is like yours in many ways, something Orihime will appreciate."

"What the fuck—" Ichigo spat, glaring at Aizen. "That bastard is in no way like me!"

Aizen chuckled. "Ah, why else do you think you two hated each other at first sight?" He took a moment to savor the outrage and horror on the youth's fine features before the boy's mouth opened to argue. Then, smirking, he took that fierce mouth with his own, drowning Ichigo's protests in a deep, passionate kiss.

"Mmmph, mmmph," Ichigo objected as Aizen entered his mouth with a demanding tongue, struggling as Aizen's arms pinioned him. Gradually Ichigo's struggles diminished and he slumped against the bed, only his eyes glaring at his brown-haired lover as Aizen plundered his mouth relentlessly. Then, finally, those too closed, and Aizen relished the youth's submission as the boy began to return the kiss, slowly at first, then eagerly and aggressively, while his lovely strong arms came up to encircle Aizen's body.

After a moment, Ichigo drew back from the kiss abruptly as a thought struck him. "What did he mean, 'our' room?"

Aizen blinked at him from a few inches away, his eyes slightly unfocused. Then he laughed and said, "All the Espada have bedrooms here… except for you."

Ichigo glared at him. "Why don't I rate?"

The brown-eyed man reached out to stroke Ichigo's bare arm. "I thought you might want to share mine," he murmured.

Ichigo subsided, mollified. His eyes softened abruptly and he curled into Aizen's embrace. The older man took the opportunity to run his hands all over Ichigo's beautiful, muscular body, tweaking his nipples as the youth wriggled beneath him, then dropping down to tease Ichigo's erection. The boy opened his eyes again and moaned as Aizen ground his own length against Ichigo's.

Finally Aizen released him, and the boy lay flushed and panting, staring up at him with warm brown eyes once more drowned in lust.

Aizen took a deep breath and drew back from Ichigo, bringing himself under control. Time for a little test, he decided. "Now then, Ichigo, shall we discuss some further plans?" He switched to telepathic communication as the boy's face darkened with outrage.

—_It's time for me to reveal some of our strategy for the upcoming war,_ he began, but was interrupted by a frustrated outcry from his orange-haired student.

"What?" shouted Ichigo, gesturing at himself, "You can't get me all excited like this and then switch to some sort of intellectual conversation! Forget it!" He glared at Aizen, who only raised his eyebrows calmly, his faint smirk unchanging on his lips.

—_Nevertheless, this information is important and relevant to you, Ichigo_. _We're going to start with taking control of Karakura Town and all its inhabitants. Thus we will maintain a secure base of operations. Next, we take over Japan. Then, we'll need to determine which major country we will establish control over, China or the United States._

Frustrated, Ichigo glowered at his brown-eyed lover, who continued to eye him placidly as he communicated. Then Ichigo's eyes narrowed and a lascivious smirk of his own spread over his face. "Fine," he said, completely ignoring Aizen's words. "I'll just go find Grimmjow. He looked like he was ready to satisfy me."

Aizen broke off his telepathic lecture and sighed. "Ah, the impetuousness of youth. So focused on immediate gratification." He lazily snapped a satin-covered cuff over one of the boy's ankles as Ichigo tried to get out of the bed and make good on his threat. "I don't think you're going anywhere."

Ichigo turned back, tugging at the restraint with a triumphant smile on his face. "Oh, so you _are_ jealous," he taunted.

Aizen gave another sigh of deep pleasure as the boy turned to him, his slender body kneeling on the bed, one leg twisted awkwardly in the restraint. Ichigo exuded a wanton sensuality that still surprised Aizen with its appeal. Aizen had started the process of molding Ichigo to his will, but the boy had taken it farther and in somewhat different directions than his teacher had expected.

He exhaled slowly and slipped lower into the bedsheets as Ichigo's attention focused on him. He could not deny that the youth was extraordinarily attractive and quite irresistible. He supposed world domination could wait a while longer. He was a patient man, after all.

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**********NOTICE:** I will be posting the uncensored version of this story on a private, friends-locked site due to the changes in FFnet policy. Please leave a review on this chapter if you want me to send you the URL and password of the new site containing the ending of this story.


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Bleach, Drama, Romance