Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN THEM!

Warnings: Mansecks. Adult language. Adult situations. Thug-life-icity. Crack of the utmost caliber.

Notes: This fic was requested by a friend of one of my reviewers and most rabid of fans. She wanted KenpachiIkakku smut. I've given the timeline a lot of thought and while the idea of Kenpachi being gay or even thinking it is a bit far fetched, he's still beautiful and needs love too. –laughs- Reminders: 1) This is based during the time Kenpachi was wandering on his way to Seireitei and came across Ikkaku in a town on the outskirts of Rukongai. 2) Due to the lack of information we have on these two during their time outside of Seireitei, I'm going with non-canon ideas to a degree. 3) I know the fight between Ikkaku and Zaraki was different in the manga, but I shortened it for my own sick pleasures. Forgive me if this bothers you. Also, when you find the word 'braziers', it is not the same as brassieres. A brazier is a container, usually metal, that hangs on the walls and is filled with oil, then lit as a lamp. Almost like a wall torch. A brassier is a woman's undergarment.

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Though relatively quiet in the woods, the small town Zaraki Kenpachi found himself in next was bustling with activity. Bad activity as well as dangerous happenings, but at least it was better than sitting alone in the trees.

The overly large wanderer made his way through the muddy streets of the washed out area and moved towards the local tavern, intent on buying himself a few bottles of the locally made wine, something he had found to be a staple of the worst areas in Rukongai.

The noise emanating from inside made the grizzled man wince slightly, knowing that if he was correct, it would be packed inside and there would hardly be room for such a large person as himself, a problem he found increasingly annoying over his decades of being thus. Pushing the door aside, he peered around until he found a comfortable looking spot and immediately moved towards it, watching with a light smirk as a rather unattractive woman came over to see what he wanted.

"Sake. Whatever's the cheapest. Four bottles."

He tossed a handful of paper bills and coins onto the table and the girl quickly scooped them up, leaving behind what was left and shuffled off to fetch his order, grumbling under her breath about the worthless wandering folks that accumulated in her bar at night.

The woman returned less than five minutes later, and after calming a group of rowdy men beside him, set the bottles down with a small ceramic cup and ran off a second time, returning to her post beside the bartender as if using the frighteningly ugly man as protection.

Kenpachi dove into the booze as if it were his first after a life's worth of going without, greedily guzzling the first bottle without using the cup, growling his approval of it as he wiped his mouth with the back of one massive hand. He set the empty container aside from the others and now used a bit more restraint, gently pouring the clear liquid into the white cup and sipping from it slowly, now taking the time to actually get a look at his fellow drunkards.

One man in particular caught his eye, though it might have been the reflection of the braziers, which burned brightly from the walls, off of the man's head. He was absolutely bald. His seemingly polished head glinting each time he nodded or barked with laughter at his tablemates. Zaraki grunted in annoyance and turned slightly, so the loud fool wouldn't blind him. Honestly, how ignorant could some people be? And how bald? He'd certainly never do anything so stupid as to mess with his long locks…

From said baldie's table, came even more of the raucous laughter and the slim framed man slammed a fist down on the table, commanding immediate silence from his friends and asking them and them only, a question.

"Alright, ya bastards. I'm only gonna say this once, so I don't have to say it again. I'm in the mood for a fight. Any one of ya feel like gettin' yourselves fucked up right nice?"

There were cheers from each of the remaining three men but neither of them stood up for the challenge, garnering growls and angered shouts from the loudmouthed antagonist.

"Are y'all fucking pansies, or what?"

Wide eyes regarded each of them before viciously clapping the closest one across the back of his head, earning a shout from him and a glare, before sitting back down and polishing off his most recently acquired drink. He was smirking in a way that suggested that his strength and skill had been empowered by the lack of challengers. His facial tattoos crinkled as he smiled.

"Fuckin' right. I knew ya bastards'd be too fuckin' sca-"

"I'll challenge ya."

Madarame looked up, continuously up, until he encountered the broadly grinning, grizzled face of his acceptor, his eyebrow twitching in irritance.

"The fuck? I didn't ask YOU. This is a private fuckin' party. Ya mind?"

He snorted softly, turning to the pretty man on his right and wrapping an arm around his shoulders more than familiarly, assuming the position of a man ignoring another and enjoying the company of a good friend or lover, slowly becoming even more annoyed by the towering figure, who remained standing beside the table.

"Listen, asshole. I'm not into games. Unless you wanna purposely get your ass wrecked, I suggest ya step back."

Zaraki chuckled softly and dug in his side pouch for a second and tossed another handful of money on the table, the coins jingling noisily as they clattered against each other. Each man looked down to it and then eyed each other, all wondering if they should snatch it and run or sit and see how things played out.

"I'm offerin' ya money for the chance to fight ya, Baldy."

"Baldy? Ok, ya rat bastard-"

"Outside! Take it outside!"

Came the call from the bartender, a sword held out in front of himself as he slowly approached, trying to at least keep the bar clear of real fights.

The longhaired swordsman backed off and walked outside, after catching a glimpse of his opponent scooping the money up and tucking it into his own purse. The air was nearly crackling with energy as each man took an end of the road and squared off, Zaraki with a crooked little smile and the other with a broad smile that suggested he knew something the taller man didn't.

"First cut gets it. I'm not playin' for keeps or nothing'. I just wanna teach you a fuckin' lesson 'bout interruptin' other folk's parties."

The wanderer nodded and unsheathed his sword, holding it with the tip facing the ground, unafraid of the smaller but obviously used to fighting man.

"Fine with me. Just tell me your name first."

The bald fighter snorted but humoured him anyway, standing somewhat more proudly while speaking it.

"Madarame Ikkaku."

"Zaraki Kenpachi."

The men who had accompanied Ikkaku outside snorted at the elder man's name, noticing right away that it was a fake, the area known as Zaraki being less than a days walk away from where they were and snickering over the name Kenpachi. They knew it to be an honorific given to the bravest of warriors and this man, with his slightly dirty look, certainly didn't seen to deserve it.

Madarame heard the snorts and quiet jeers and threw a nasty glare towards the men, knowing the truth of his name as well but ignoring it for the fact that he now had an opponent that seemed vaguely interesting. He moved quickly as he nodded acceptance of the man's name and then ran at him, unsheathing his own sword and hauling it down towards the other's shoulder.

Though larger, Kenpachi was faster and more skilled, and with a swift slice of his own, brought the two together and forced his opponent back to his starting point, a wide, toothy grin plastered on his scarred face.

"Nice, but you're not fast enough. I wanna challenge, not a fuckin' dance."

A growl issued through Ikkaku's teeth but it hardly made it to Zaraki's ears as the dark haired wanderer finished their match with a wicked attack, cutting the smaller man across the belly but not wounding him fatally, not wanting to murder him for simply asking for a worthy opponent to spar with.

The younger man went down with a grunt and clutched at his stomach, red accented eyes lifting to scowl darkly, his sword falling from his hands while his friends fled for their lives, even the man whom Ikkaku had been so overly familiar with. They had never seen their proud comrade go down so easily and such a frightening man scared them witless. Kenpachi hunkered down next to him and got a better look at the now silent swordsman.

He was interesting to look at really. Hardly anything worth writing home about, if he had had a home to write to. Dark eyes peered up at him as the man winced, trying to sit up and just making it to his feet as the other backed off to allow it without impeding him.

"I guess ya won your money back." Ikkaku dug into his purse to return it. "I'm no fuckin' thief."

Kenpachi raised his hand and while sheathing his sword, motioned a negative.

"I'm gonna get a room to stay the night. Ya comin' with me?"

The bald man blinked. "Comin' with ya? Why the fuck would I do that?"

Hitching his pants, the Zaraki resident started off towards the town's only lodgings, sitting less than two doors down from the tavern, talking as he walked.

"We fought, I won and you're still alive."

He said it as if the words themselves made up for a half assed reason.

"The fuck?"

"I guess we're sorta friends now, Madarame Ikkaku. That's the way I do things."

The promise of a somewhat cozy room for the night appealed to the younger man though, his body aching for a comfortable rest after sleeping on the ground for weeks with his –former- friends. He was suspicious of the large man though. There was no denying the feral edge to his sharp-toothed grin.

"Yeah, why the hell not."

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The two swordsmen sat in nearly companionable silence as they ate the food Kenpachi had bought before going up to the second floor room, his meal finished in a matter of minutes while Ikkaku's sat mostly untouched, his wound cleaned and bandaged up tight. After a brief scowl at the leftover food, the bald man immediately picked his hashi up and finished it off, suddenly afraid if ruining what might be an interesting night.

Setting them down again, he sat back and lifted his sake cup for a sip, eyeing his new comrade with half lidded eyes.

"So…ya come from the eightieth district, eh?"

A slow nod while the elder man rubbed at his slightly stubbly chin.

"What uh…what did ya do before comin' here?"

"Nothin'. I've been wanderin' ever since I woke up dead."

The younger man blinked but nodded as if understanding what he meant, having found himself to be in the worst area of Rukongai the same way.

"Aa, same here. Just a wanderin' fool, I guess. I've been fightin' guys for money for as long as I can remember."

Zaraki lifted his eyes to look at his new friend and smirked slightly, trying to figure out the boy's deal, why he was so eager to stay in a stranger's company.

"That light haired guy ya were with. He yours?"

Ikkaku's left eye twitched as he tried to decipher the man's question.

"Mine? Whatcha mean, mine? Like family or somethin'?"

"Nah, like a fuck. Is he your regular fuck?"

The bald fighter nearly choked on his sake before he swallowed it down and set the cup back on the table, slightly uncomfortable about where the conversation had suddenly turned to.

"Iie, I mean…that is…it's not exactly regular, ya know?" He was blushing like a soon to be deflowered woman. "Him and me, we're old friends. Kinda grew up together in the slums. We did what we could with what we had. That's all."

"Ya don't have to tell me. I was in the worst part, remember? Guys were always in with other guys. Kinda sickened me but ya get used to it after a while."

If ever there was an opening for a dirty conversation, this was it and Ikakku stared, trying to decide on how he could repay the elder man for letting him live when he could have easily killed him and stolen his money. Smirking, he uncrossed his legs and shifted around the low table to where the other man sat, crawling on all fours while appraising the larger form openly, his eyes roaming the muscles beneath his torn shirt and the thickly roped thighs that peeked out of the short pants.

Zaraki was aware of the appreciate gaze and looked off to the side, almost glaring but allowing the movement, having gone for months without contact of any kind, female or male. He uncrossed his legs from where he had the left one merely laying over the right, opening up space and secretly humouring the younger fighter, to see how far he'd actually go with another man.

Madarame took it as assent and moved somewhat faster, using his wasted seduction skills on the obviously interested swordsman. In his relationship with the other tavern-goer, he was more of the aggressor and it irritated him. He wanted to be used. Used so good.

"Naa, Madarame. What're ya doin'?"

The man's voice startled him and he backed off slightly, lifting his eyes but not slowing his hands, both of which were undoing the ties to Zaraki's shorts.

"Just…relaxin'. Got a problem with it?"

"Nope. Just askin'."

The bald youth snorted softly and kneeled down closer to the other's lower half as he finally got the ties undone and deftly slipped the item he was searching for out, palming it and licking his lips at the sight of the massive organ. What else could he have expected? The man was large all over. It was only natural that his cock be proportionate to the rest of him, right?

Zaraki groaned slightly once the heated flesh was held in a hand not his own and he bucked his hips demandingly, leaning slightly to the side as he poured himself another cup of sake, intent on enjoying the night's activities from both ends. He grinned ferally as he sipped the cool brew, spreading his legs even further in an open invitation.

Needing no more coercion, Ikkaku bent forward and lapped at the tip of the man's cock, wrapping the entirety of one hand around it while the other cupped under Kenpachi's heavy balls, squeezing them as he knew he himself liked, earning a loud groan from the up-until-now stoic man.

It was odd how easily the towering man allowed his new charge to touch him but ignoring the facts, Madarame chose to enjoy himself, bending even lower and taking the whole of Zaraki's cock into his mouth, snuffling his nose in the tight curls that nestled around it.

At this, the long haired fighter lifted his unoccupied hand to cup the back of Ikkaku's head, holding him still as he bucked himself into the warm cavern, savouring the swirl of the bald man's tongue around the head each time he nearly pulled out. The length of him almost choked the smaller man but because he was being somewhat gentle, it wasn't so bad.

Kenpachi abruptly pulled the younger man from himself just as Ikakku felt that the man was about to release, crawling to his feet and undressing, revealing a broad expanse of chest and torso crisscrossed with scars, some relatively new but most seemed to be years healed. Madarame's cock twitched in response to the sight, as well as the sight of Zaraki's own member as it pulsed along with his heartbeat, the length of it nearly reaching his bellybutton.

Eager to please, the bald wanderer did the same and tossed his clothes aside, his own member, while substantial in normal terms, was dwarfed by the other's and he swallowed audibly, worried about the act they were certain to engage in. Dark eyes watched as Zaraki took his appearance in, immediately recognizing the look of slight fear as his cock was appraised. As if understanding, the larger man turned around and dug in his satchel, bringing out a small corked jar, a pale yellow substance inside that Ikkaku recognized as sword polish.

Relief washed over him and, having been taken by men before and knowing what they usually wanted, turned away from his soon-to-be lover and sat up on all fours, parting his legs so that his sac hung comfortably between them, his hidden portal openly displayed. Kenpachi groaned his approval and moved to kneel behind him, the polish pot set atop Madarame's back as large hands fondled his buttocks, pressing them together and pulling them apart, testing the flesh's elasticity.

He sat back and under the gaze of his young lover, who looked back over his shoulder with a look of absolute excitement and fear, Zaraki uncorked the jar and slathered his hand with it, quickly setting it aside and moving to his arousal, lovingly stroking it, the noise of sluicing compound between his hand and his cock being the only noise besides Ikkaku's heavy breathing.

Keeping his clean hand on the boy's back, the massive swordsman slipped his coated hand to the tight hole and forcefully pressed two fingers inside, earning a hiss from the other and a grin of mirth from himself, quickly rotating them and pulling them out again, watching as the pucker closed from its stretched state.

As if it amused him, the action was repeated, until the bald man bucked back against him, whining slightly with impatience over the situation. He wanted to be taken now and he was hardly going to wait for it. Stifling laughter over the boy's suddenly slutty nature, Kenpachi pulled his fingers free for the last time and securing his slippery cock in his hand, gently nudged the flared head against the hole and gave a wicked thrust forward, burying himself more than halfway inside.

Unaccustomed to being the bottom in a sexual situation, Ikkaku cried out in absolute pain and sat forward slightly, impeded by Zaraki's hands which had now curled around his waist, holding him still as inch by inch, he slipped the rest of the way inside, the tight muscles moving to accommodate such a large intruder. It was exciting for the larger man, to have his lover squirm and struggle, only adding to the sweetness of the fuck.

Through gritted teeth, the younger swordsman turned to look over his shoulder and speak, his eyes squinted from the exquisite pain.

"You're like a fuckin' horse! Ya feel like you're fuckin' tearin' me apart!"

A deep chuckle immediately silenced the bald youth, the weight of Zaraki's heavy body covering his own causing him to grunt out loud, his backside punished to the fullest extent. He could feel the other man's balls hanging heavily behind his own and he pushed back slightly, making the heavier sac swing against his, hissing softly as even the slightest movement ached deep within his bowels.

Taking the movement as acceptance of his immense girth, Zaraki sat back up straight and with a hand on either side of Madarame's hips, he dragged himself from the constricting squeeze, keeping only the head inside, stopping when the tight muscles were just about to flare over the ridge of his cock.

Never having been a patient or particularly caring lover, Kenpachi sucked in a deep breath and plunged the entirety of himself back in again, the keening wail from the smaller form nearly causing him to lose his seed prematurely, the heated flesh pulsing dangerously as his thumbs rubbed the firm smoothness of Ikkaku's ass.

"Ya can keep the money, Ikkaku, long as I can do this when I want. You're like a fuckin' tight little woman, just not so fuckin' mouthy…"

The only response he got to what could be considered either an insult or a compliment, was a shift of the smaller body and a shudder of relaxation as his left hand slipped around his own cock, his upper body lowering to the floor in an attempt to relieve the pressure on his shoulder as he fought to stay upright, Kenpachi's thrusts shifting him off balance each time.

The loosening on the elder man's cock caused a renewed surge in the punishing movements but due to his self-stimulation, Madarame hardly noticed, too absorbed in his own race for release.

Having been aroused to nearly the explosion point before the sex had even begun, the longhaired swordsman grunted his oncoming ascent and holding the other's hips to himself and merely thrusting against the tight buttocks, he emptied violently, trying to bury more of what didn't exist into the warm hole. Quivering with barely concealed lust, Ikkaku moaned whorishly and bucked back against the now welcome intrusion, stroking himself viciously until he came with an intensity he hadn't experienced since being a brand new teenager, in the loft of an abandoned barn, his seed spattering the tatami mats and slipping down his tightly curled fingers.

Ignorant of the simple act of cuddling afterwards, Kenpachi pulled himself free of the now loose grip and with a satisfied smirk, watched his seed leak from the abused hole, lifting his right hand to playfully slap the boy's firm ass. The soiled swordsman turned to glare defiantly before moving to stand, padding his way to the bathroom and tidying himself up, a ritual he had nearly forgotten, the much-loved swish of a cool, clean washcloth over his tortured skin feeling oh so heavenly.

Rinsing it out, he returned to the main living area and handed it to the elder man, waiting patiently and averting his eyes as he wiped up with it then handed it back, picking up his sake cup and polishing off what remained in it, as well as what remained in the bottle, dark eyes watching Madarame as the slim fighter returned, dressed and sat down gingerly on an unsoiled section of floor.

"So…yeah thanks. For lettin' me keep the money."

Zaraki shrugged and leaned off to the side to replace their makeshift lubricant back into his bag, not wanting to waste such a precious commodity.

"Tomorrow I'm leavin' for Seireitei." He leveled a stare on the bald youth, not trying to be cute or funny. "Ya wanna come with me? I'll need a squad together for when I win a captain's seat."

"For when…what the fuck do ya mean, 'win a captain's seat'? ya can't just walk in there and challenge a fuckin' captain!"

Kenpachi snorted. "'Course I can. It's in the Gotei 13 charter as one of the ways to become one. If ya can beat an existing captain, ya can have his seat."

Stupefied but accepting of wild ideas, Ikkaku shrugged and nodded.

"Yeah, I come with ya. I haven't got much of anythin' here to stay for. I've got a friend I'd like to bring with me too though. He's fuckin' good. Better'n me even, but he never wants to fight me to prove it."

"He'll have to prove himself to me."

"Hai, hai. I know. I'll find him in the mornin'. Creepy bastard's probably hidin' out somewhere close by anyway. He never likes me to wander too far from him."

Zaraki chuckled throatily and rested back against his pack, crossing large arms over a broad chest.

"That your pretty little fuck? The one I saw ya with in the tavern?"

"Yeah. Ayasegawa Yumichika. He and I've been together since we were kids."

Nodding an affirmative, the larger man allowed his head to slip down onto his chest, slowly falling asleep from the comfort he felt, a warm room and a satisfied body giving him the go ahead. Unwilling to sleep on the floor, Ikkaku climbed up onto the futon and snuggled himself under the thick blanket, almost too excited to sleep, especially with the prospect of being a member of the Gotei 13 in the back of his mind.

There was no doubting his new comrade's strength and with any luck, they'd be in the court of pure souls before winter came.

"Guess we got ourselves a new leader, ne, Yumi-chan?"

A pale hand lifted from outside the window, the direction it came from suggesting that its owner had been sitting on the awning underneath the second floor sill. It waved as if in understanding before a delicately sculptured face peered over as well, eyelashes and eyebrow on the right side adorned with feathers to amplify his already obvious beauty.

The new man grinned and left with a wave, needing to go back to their camp in the surrounding woods to pack his things up. They were going on a long trip! Everything had to go with them!

Happily, Yumichika packed his things and then Ikkaku's as well, sitting beside the brightly roaring fire with his friends, feeling somewhat sad about leaving them but needing the opportunity to prove himself in the world. He was powerful, there was no denying that, and when given the chance, he would let the massive swordsman know just how worthy he was of a seat in a Gotei 13 squad.

Falling asleep amidst the murmur's of his comrades, Ayasegawa smiled, excitedly planning a future for himself and his bald best friend. It would be paradise, no doubt.

Just a fight filled, bloody paradise…