IsshinRyuuken. Changed my mind.
But it was slow and warm and went straight to his gut.
He was moving his mouth to fit deeper, closer, before he even stopped to think about it.
It wasn't until the cigarette burnt down to his fingers that he remembered that he was supposed to be beyond that now.
Obviously no such thing had happened: here he was, after unleashing his Quincy powers and here Kurosaki was in his black and white shinigami uniform.
There was too much history here, like smoke filling the room until it was too late, making him succumb.
He shivered once, when his shirt came off and his skin was cold against the stone, and the rest was all acceptance.
There was no way to stop the mewling cries of pleasure long denied, of a love that dare not speak its name.
No way to stop.