The Wager - Chap. 1

A/N: Ichigo crashes Aizen's New Year's Eve party but finds more than he bargained for. AiIchi. Yaoi. AU.

Warnings: Lemon in chapter 2. Do not read if you are under 18 or do not like yaoi.

Posted: 12/31/10

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach and all characters in this story are 18 or older.

It was the party everyone wanted to be invited to. The mysterious and debonair Aizen Sousuke was throwing a New Year's Eve party at his penthouse apartment. For Kurosaki Ichigo, however, it was just an excuse to confront Aizen.

Ichigo rode up the glass-sided elevator, looking out at the city lights spreading out beneath him. His reflection stared back at him, overlaid upon the night vista like a spectral vision. Orange hair capped a face decorated by a ferocious scowl, grimacing over the hordes of party-goers below. Getting off at the seventy-eighth floor, he strode down the plush carpeting and stopped at the end of the hall. The double doors to Aizen's apartment were thrown open and the apartment was packed. Music pounded out from speakers somewhere within, and the smells of good food and plenty of alcohol wafted out into the hall.

Sitting at a table by the door was a slender man with fine silver hair falling in his slitted eyes. He grinned at Ichigo as he halted at the end of the hall.

"D'ya have an invitation, my friend?" he queried softly as Ichigo made to enter the double doors.

Ichigo scowled at him. "I, uh, left it at home," he said with a belligerent frown.

The other man looked him over speculatively. Underneath a leather bomber jacket, Ichigo was wearing a white linen shirt open at the neck to reveal several chains dangling over a well-muscled chest. Tight black slacks hugged a well-formed rear end. On top of it all was a handsome, sulky face framed by a luscious shock of orange hair.

He smiled lasciviously. "I suppose you'll do for Sousuke…" His voice trailed off suggestively and Ichigo flushed. "What name should I give him?" the silver-haired man inquired.

Well, whatever, if it got him in the door. "Kurosaki Ichigo."

The silver-haired man murmured into a small hand-held device, then gestured expansively at the door. "Please, be my guest." He cocked his head to one side then, and his smile widened. "It's the last door on the right, all the way at the end of the hall."

Ichigo passed through the doors and into a dramatic open space perhaps three stories tall. The entire room was open, framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the sparkling panorama below. Glass-block walls separated a kitchen flashing with high-tech gadgetry from an elegant, recessed living room holding ultra-modern furniture. The room was filled with people talking, laughing, sipping from tall flutes of champagne and selecting hors d'oeuvres from silver trays. The entrance to the hallway was at the other end of the large room. Ichigo pushed his way through the crowded living room. The hall beyond was quiet and dark. His footsteps were muffled by thick carpeting. He walked to the end, looking for the last door on the right.

The door was ajar and Ichigo slipped through it. The room beyond was unlit and silent. In the dimness, only the silhouette of a slender man sitting on a leather desk chair was visible. He was facing the plate glass window overlooking yet another expansive view of the city, his back to Ichigo.

"Come in, Ichigo," said a deep, vibrant voice.

Ichigo scowled and moved forward. The man was gazing out over the view from the window, a single narrow glass of champagne on the round onyx end table beside him. He turned to face the youth as he approached. In the dim light Ichigo could see that he was wearing a black silk shirt, the collar open at the top, revealing a pale throat gleaming in the low light. Large, dark eyes regarded Ichigo thoughtfully, and full lips curved up in a smile that was somehow disturbing.

"Please, have a seat," Aizen offered, with a graceful gesture toward another chair by the window.

"What are you doing sitting all alone here in the dark when you have a houseful of guests?" Ichigo knew he sounded rude, but he didn't care.

The other man smiled. "Sometimes I prefer solitude."

"What, on New Year's Eve?" asked Ichigo skeptically.

"Would you prefer if I said that I was waiting for you?" said the other man softly.

"Cut the games, Aizen!" Ichigo's voice sounded loud in the quiet room. "We both know why I'm here."

"Do we?" murmured Aizen, looking down at the liquid in his glass.

"Yes," said Ichigo angrily. "I want you to leave Inoue alone."

There was silence in the room for a few moments. Then Aizen replied, "Why should I give up the pleasure of her company?"

"We both know you don't care about her; you only want to use her." Ichigo clenched his fists and glowered at the brown-haired man.

"Well, in that case," said Aizen softly, "what will you give me in return?"

Ichigo gaped. "What? You're rich; you can buy everything you could possibly need. I don't have anything you want."

"Oh really?" asked Aizen, his eyes alight now with an emotion Ichigo did not recognize. Deliberately, the man ran his eyes up and down the length of Ichigo's body, and the younger man shivered. Unconsciously, he tugged his jacket more tightly around his body.

"Why don't we try something… sporting?" suggested Aizen in a low, amused voice. "Let's make a bet. If you win, I'll agree to leave Inoue Orihime alone as you say. But if I win, you agree to spend the night with me… doing whatever I choose for us to do."

Ichigo's blood ran cold. Aizen was gazing at him now, the tip of his tongue flicking out to touch his upper lip. There was a dark smile on his face. Ichigo swallowed. It was likely the best deal he would get from Aizen, and probably his only chance to save Inoue. His mouth firmed. "All right. What do we bet on?" he asked.

Aizen smiled, pleased with his victory. "I'll let you choose the game," he said, "so that you can be convinced I am not cheating."

Eyes narrowed, Ichigo studied his face. Then he dug in his pocket for a quarter. "Here," he said. "Let's flip a coin."

The other man's eyes moved slowly over the bright hair framing handsome features, warm brown eyes, that pouting, scowling mouth. He licked his lips. "Go ahead," he said with a lazy wave of one long-fingered hand.

Ichigo tossed the quarter high in the air. It spun, glittering, in the light from the city outside. He caught it in his palm and placed it over the back of his left hand, then turned to Aizen with an inquiring look.

"Heads." The man's voice was low and vibrating.

Ichigo lifted his right hand up to reveal the coin. The familiar profile of George Washington glinted in the city lights.

Aizen leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. "Heads I win, tails you lose," he murmured softly. He looked up at Ichigo with a gleam in his dark eyes. "Didn't you know I always win?"

Ichigo swallowed. "Well, I guess you did this time." He pocketed the quarter and straddled the chair opposite Aizen, multiple pinpoints of light in his eyes reflecting the vista beyond. "So I guess we have a deal. What do you want?"

Aizen regarded him slowly, appraisingly, watching the slight bloom of fear in the younger man's eyes. Then he leaned forward suddenly and reached out to Ichigo's face, slender fingers stroking his cheek, thumb gently caressing his lips. He brought his face close to the other man's and whispered, "I think you know what I want, Ichigo."

With that his lips brushed against Ichigo's, and then were pressed warmly to his mouth. Ichigo stiffened at first, and then forced himself to relax. Aizen lingered a moment longer, then broke the kiss, hovered a fraction of an inch away, smiling, and then moved in and ran his tongue lightly over Ichigo's lips, circling them. He stroked Ichigo's throat gently and then plunged both hands into his thick orange locks and drew the other man's face to him for a deep, passionate kiss.

Drawing back, he took the other man's hand. "You're mine for tonight," he whispered, "and I'll expect complete obedience from you in every way." He watched the other man shiver and his eyes narrowed with satisfaction. "The bedroom is that way." He indicated a half-open door leading off the room.

Slowly, Ichigo stood up and allowed himself to be led into the dark, dark room.