Right my honeys, I apologize for my inactiveness this month but I'm STILL really sick and I can't write as much as I'd like to. This story's concept is one that I've wanted to play with for as long as I can remember. I have always wanted to write a story where a younger Shiro dominates his older brother, Ichigo. So this is the result. I ask that you please remember, this is a two-shot so this is only the introduction…also please heed the warnings that I will be listing, there are quite a few:

Lollipop Sweetness contains: M/M Lemons, Angst, Rough Sex, Possible use of toys, younger (Fifteen-year-old) Shiro dominating his older (nineteen-year-old) brother Ichigo. A reverse of how I usually write dominants and submissives, Possessive!Shiro, Innocent/Submissive!Ichigo. Completely AU Modern Japanese/Yakuza Relations Setting. Violence in the first part, Incest and a Dark Fic. It's considerably lighter to my usual works as it's written purely for visual stimulation but we'll see how it turns out.

The set pairing for Lollipop Sweetness is: Kurosaki Shiro (黒崎 白) x Kurosaki Ichigo (黒崎 一護)

I'm still sick my honeys, so I'm running out of things to say. Please enjoy for now, it may be a while until I update part 2. I'm trying my best in meantime to carry on with my updates as soon as possible.

Lollipop Sweetness

'Che, utterly worthless.' A quiet baritone uttered with sheer disgust, deep golden eyes gazing apathetically at the spread of deadly carnage that the infamous and enraged Demon of Karakura had left behind in his wake. It should be a sin for such weak fighters to exist in this town, the Central 46 were clearly not governing the Gotei-13 correctly if this was to be the gathering point of Seireitei; the most respected and feared Yakuza organization in the entirety of Japan. Pressing the heel of a white sneaker clad foot against the bloodied head of one of his attackers nonchalantly, Kurosaki Shiro tugged his blazer more firmly around proud shoulders as he buried his hands in grey uniform pants and paid no mind to the taste of blood that saturated his mouth or the ache that was searing his knuckles so distractingly. A sly blue tongue was dragging across a deadly smirk of pure satisfaction, the flicker of a silvery ring piercing it's unusually coloured surface as the fifteen-year-old tested the tolerance of pain he had against a small wound splitting his lip. 'For fuck's sake, when will ya learn not to pick fights that ya cannot possibly win?!' He questioned with sheer frustration, swiping away the blood trailing down his chin with a red lined sleeve as the first-year student remained completely unfazed by the groans of pain that were echoing through a blood stained atmosphere.

It was not funny anymore, Shiro thought irritably. The Oyaji was going to throw a fit if he saw his youngest has been in a fight again, he already got into far too much trouble these days without the influence of street gangs trying to take him out or the lower ranking Yakuza that were stupid enough to try and punish the former Shiba Head's family for their downfall from nobility twenty years ago. But he couldn't help it, damn it! He was constantly forced to defend against petty school gangs that picked on him because of his appearance and tried to prove their superiority over his rising reputation as the Demon of Karakura. Possessing a vast array of white locks that tumbled evocatively down his spine to brush against thin hips, a tall lithe frame and six black loop earrings pierced in his left ear; Shi was well known throughout the illicit streets as either a target to play with or feared instinctively for the inheritance that ran so potently in his blood. He was a deadly force to be reckoned with, his speed and strength rumoured to be so indiscernible that he was trumped in technique and skill by only one other person…his four year older brother, Kurosaki Ichigo. Even though Ichi-nii was regarded as the eternal King of Karakura High, his little brother was fast becoming the only student that had come close to shaking the Heika's (1*) eternal throne of superiority regardless of being a mere first-year.

Not that it was Shiro's intention at all, he had no true desire to take over his nineteen-year-old brother's past title or influential reputation. He merely defended himself as was necessary, protected his family as best he could and tried to shield his beloved Onii-san from harm and the darkness that tainted their bloodstained world. It was a returned favour that existed equally between them, the white haired teen having sworn to protect his older brother just as fiercely as his most beloved Ichigo protected him. It was an unbreakable promise that Shiro knew could never be shattered by any outside influence or trampled on carelessly by the filth that walked this earth. The two of them were inseparable after all, the only children of a former Gotei-13 Captain, Shiba Isshin, and their deceased mother, Kurosaki Masaki. Despite the fact that it had placed both brothers in many dangerous, sometimes life-threatening situations before; it had become the foundation of irrevocable trust, reliance, love, comfort and possessive instinct that ebbed and flowed so eternally between them. Ichigo may have been the oldest in appearance but he was far too compassionate and innocent for the dangerous world they had been born into, often marking him unfairly as the 'younger' and 'weaker' in heart when compared to his Otouto's fiercer and more frightening nature.

The orange haired university student was completely oblivious of the dangers that lurked around him most of the time, his kindness influencing an unusual fighting technique that was never initiated selfishly or without good reason. Kurosaki Ichigo was known as a self-sacrificing martyr that never fought to protect himself from harm, something that his younger brother always tried to stop his Onii-san from doing unconsciously. But it was a useless endeavour these days, Shiro thought absently. He couldn't shield his brother so well when Ichi-nii was no longer close by or lived at the family clinic with him and the insane Oyaji. He could understand why the orangette had moved out as soon as he could however, their father was far too much of an idiot to survive living with for more than eighteen years in a single lifetime. The youngest of the two was even highly envious of Ichigo's small apartment that was situated several blocks away from Karakura Town's prestigious S University. It was not fair, Shiro mourned internally. He didn't want to be around the energetic Goat-Face any longer either, Otou-san was too difficult to handle these days with his constant 'tests of courage' and insane morning wake up calls. Which was probably why an exhausted sigh was falling despairing from surprisingly full lips, the white haired student throwing a dark blue and white book bag over his shoulder as he headed in the opposite direction of the family home.

The mere thought of having to face one of Isshin's "No matter what reason, to he who disrupts this household's iron harmony, only punishment of blood can be rendered" lectures, was more than enough to force Shiro on a path towards Ichigo's familiar apartment instead. His pride had been hurt more than enough from an underhanded attack that day, he really didn't have the strength to face the Old Man's insane brand of fatherly concern too. Shiro was sure that Ichigo would understand his unexpected visit, his brother was a gentle and loving soul that had thankfully inherited their mother's beautiful grace and fierce protectiveness rather than their father's unrefined nature and annoying exuberance. Something within the orangette just attracted people towards him like the sun, his soul so inherently pure and untainted by darkness that even the younger of the infamous Kurosaki brothers was envious of the eternal warmth that surrounded his Ichi-nii like a halo of protection. Hissing softly in irritation when the overcast skies abruptly burst open with a bright blue lightning strike, golden eyes narrowed down in dark glare as the white haired fifteen-year-old absently tugged red and black headphones over his ears to drown out the sound of a brewing storm and absently tilted his head towards the caress of spring rain that was falling soothingly from above.

A shaggy array of messy white bangs; skittering softly across pale cheeks, falling between golden eyes set upon a sea of black sclera and sticking wetly to a furrowed brow were falling forward artfully to conceal a sharpened gaze from sight as black nailed fingertips rose thoughtfully to brush against a bleeding bottom lip cautiously. "One hit, one weakness." The Oyaji would say and Shiro agreed with him just this once. It was disgraceful, he had been trained his entire life in several different fighting techniques and he had let his guard down for one crucial second that could have ended up being quite dangerous had he been faced with weapons or a concealed knife instead. That was not the way that any Shiba would fall but it was enough to force Shiro to realize that he was still not strong enough to truly protect Ichigo like he wished to. Even though his Onii-san was more than capable of looking after himself when truly needed, he was still the sole reason why the youngest wished for strength in the first place. When they had been younger and Shiro five years old, their mother had been sacrificed right before her sons' eyes whilst desperately trying to protect them from a rival gang's undue revenge. What he had seen that day, the screams of Onii-san's despondency he had heard and those hauntingly beautiful chocolate brown eyes overrun with tears was something that had seared itself into the backs of his eyelids for eternity.

Shi may not have understood what was happening at the time but one thing that he would never forget was the way that his heart had cried out in pain at the sound of Ichigo's despair and the eternal warmth that he had felt when Ichi-nii had wound him up in a protective embrace that refused to let go even when a horrifying wound had been sunk into the nine-year-old's back and stomach. To protect one thing, it was the very phrase that made up the essence of Ichigo's entire existence and Shiro, just like that, had been drawn into his brother's eternal and fiery warmth that day regardless of the blood that stained their memories and the debilitating and confusing fear they had felt. He had sworn to his very soul that he would return the same warmth, love and protection that he had felt and get rid of the paralyzing fear that still haunted him in his sleep sometimes. The only problem that the white haired being was faced with these days, was that his love had turned into something much deeper and instinctual over the last three years. He was constantly overwhelmed by an intense need to stay close to his beloved Ichi-nii as his growing age had unknowingly opened up a burning fire of desire within him to possess the orangette for himself…even when his feelings were not regarded as anything quite so innocent as 'admiration' and 'brotherly affection' anymore.

A quiet chuckle was escaping pale lips unbidden of the hip-length white haired teen's permission, steady footsteps guiding him down rain-wet and familiar streets as he could no longer contain the shiver of bliss racing down his spine the closer that he drew to Ichi-nii's apartment. To be bathed in the warmth of the orangette's presence for a few hours, even an entire night was more than enough to hasten his steady pace as Shiro felt no true need within him to conceal his form from the rain's touch and the distracting wetness that was soaking through his school uniform so completely. He was raking black nailed fingertips through long wet strands absently, an array of black bracelets set around his left wrist, creating a startling contrast upon pale skin as a carmine shirt, settled below a grey and red blazer, clung tightly to a dampened torso. Intense golden eyes were dutifully scanning the streets for any possible threats lurking in growing shadows, the overcast skies darkening with the approach of night as Shiro knew he was not permitted to drop his guard for even a second. Regardless of his mind that was saturated by the lull of music and one of his senses deliberately cut off from perceiving the world, the son of Gotei-13 Captain should always remain wary of the night and the hidden dangers it possessed.

When he finally managed to climb the outside staircase to the third floor apartment several minutes later, pale fingertips had already taken out the extra key that Ichigo had given him as the door sprung open with a quiet click not long after. It was still an hour too early for Ichigo to be back from his classes but Shiro would make himself home for now, his attention only briefly distracted by sending his father a text message and dually informing his beloved that he had invaded his home for the time being. It wouldn't do to give Ichi-nii a shock when he returned home to find his little brother sprawled on the couch or completing his homework like the surprisingly studious rebel he was in contrast to his wild appearance. The only problem that Shiro was faced with, was the quite obvious wound that was drawn across his lip. He had never been fond of making Ichigo worry on purpose, his beloved was already faced with far too much on his own but Ichi-nii wasn't going to like the fact that someone had hurt his Otouto. Too bad for the orangette though, his attackers were already littered across the street half-dead and ripped apart by no remorse whatsoever. Igniting the Demon of Karakura's deadly rage was not something to survive easily, regardless of how protective the King may get in return or how dangerous it truly was to awaken the sleeping Heika from his peaceful existence as a medical student these days.

The first thing to do though, was wash away the blood that stained his hands. Removing his sneakers by the front door, golden eyes were frowning in confusion when he noticed intricately buckled and heavy black boots already present in the foyer. That was odd, had the clash in the streets messed with his perception so much that Ichi-nii had already returned home? No, that wasn't quite right. The stylish black watch that was curled around his right wrist betrayed the time as only 5:30…another half-hour before the last lecture at S University would come to an end. Calling out a quiet greeting in response to the unusual sight, Shiro was quite surprised when a quiet tenor answered him from the direction of the living room several seconds later. His footsteps were hastened across dark wood floors near instantly, the neatly decorated silver and black apartment fading into the background of a hazed perception as Shiro wanted nothing more than to see Ichigo for himself. Just hearing the lilt of that beautiful voice was enough to chase a previously rested heartbeat into an erratic rhythm of sheer anticipation and uncontained desire. Even though he had seen Ichi-nii two days before at the family dinner, too much time had passed since he had been able to envelope himself in a sweet scent and burn upon his skin the sensation of a fiery presence.

'Ichigo?' Shiro called with concern, his rushing footsteps frozen in the threshold of the living room as golden eyes took in the sight that was spread so hauntingly before him. 'Are you alright?' Chocolate brown eyes lifted absently from the intense spread of textbooks and several notebooks on a low table as the older Kurosaki allowed a quiet sigh to spill passed luscious petal pink lips. Elegant fingertips were rising absently to push sliding curved and stylish rectangular glasses up a straight nose as Shiro was instantly struck by beauty of the elegant movement. Golden eyes were lidding down in a lustful gaze, eagerly drinking in the image that loose black cargo pants, settled evocatively around thin hips, made and the sensual folds of a long-sleeved red and black striped shirt that had crept up a sculpted abdomen to display a small but tantalizing splay of flawlessly tanned skin. A messy array of orange locks was falling forward artfully to skitter playfully across slightly flushed cheeks as two near unnoticeable sideburns accentuated a spiky and scruffy style that was partially concealing chocolate brown eyes from an intense mismatched gaze. The world was grinding to a halt for the fifteen-year-old several seconds later though, the moment that a loving smile, only every displayed to Shiro, curled across beautiful features as the orangette stood with several swaying steps and tugged a strawberry lollipop from between parted lips.

'Tsk, showing up here like this. Did you get into trouble again?' Ichigo asked irritably, closing the small distance that separated them as his four inch taller frame took advantage of his height and he tipped Shiro's chin upwards so that a defiant glare could clash violently with his concerned gaze. Really now, his Otouto was so predictable…step on his pride a little by getting in one hit and he always returns to his older brother in search of comfort. Allowing for a quiet sigh to fall from parted lips, Ichigo paid no mind to his own splitting migraine that had forced him to retreat from his last lecture that day as he forced his lollipop between pale lips and caressed a split lip with considerable concern. Capturing his brother's hand that rose to take away the sweetened treat to defend himself verbally, the orange haired nineteen-year-old lead the younger student over to a black couch with a quiet shake of his head. 'No, Shi. If you are going to show up here, soaked through by the rain and clearly unsettled by a mistake, then you'll have to deal with silence until I can clean the cut at least a little. Now be a good boy and finish your lollipop, the sweetness will cleanse the taste of blood.' Despite it being a mere superficial wound, Ichigo was still deeply concerned by the thought of his baby brother getting into fights as he ruffled gentle fingertips through silky white strands to appease the deadly golden eyed glare that was threatening him so boldly.

'Geez, I swear. I cannot leave you alone for one minute.' Scolding Shiro now was probably just going to anger him more, so Ichigo leaned forward tenderly to press a consoling kiss to a furrowed brow as he smiled gently at the black nailed fingertips that came up to brush his cheek in returned affection. It was sweet, Shi was quite affectionate when he wanted to be despite his rough and sometimes sadistic tendencies. Only for his beloved Ichi-nii did he show this side, something that the orangette loved more than anything as he quietly disappeared down the hallway in search of his own bedroom. Shiro would always be his most beloved little brother, the only being that he was inclined to protect more fiercely than his own life just as he knew Shiro protected him eternally. Sometimes he couldn't understand his own emotions around the white haired teen anymore but something between them had definitely become twisted somewhere along the way…they only had each other after all and the intensity of their bond was something that Ichigo had felt shifting into more taboo and unusual desires several years ago. Not that it mattered at all, he thought mournfully. Look at the illicit family they had grown up in? The darkness that stained their past meant that the Kurosaki brothers were truly nothing without each other and the intense reliance that they each concealed in their hearts so possessively.

'Fuck! Just what the hell am I thinking at a time like this?' Ichigo scolded himself harshly, elegant fingertips tugging despairing at messy orange locks to ground his thoughts and the pain that was skittering so distractingly across his forehead as leaned against the doorframe of a large bathroom for several seconds to collect himself. Now was not the time to be drawn into such a strange daze where the world was spinning beneath his feet and his breaths were hitching quite erratically and painfully in his chest. He couldn't do much for Shiro's wound except clean it, but it was enough to distract him for now as he gathered the first aid box in the palm of his hand and he headed in the direction of the living room with several unsteady steps. An orange head was tilting to the side absently, listening intently to the increasing intensity of the falling rain as drifting thoughts could not help but return to that mournful day again. Ah…the one day that he could never forgive himself for and the—.

'Ichi-nii?' A concerned baritone called abruptly, startling the orangette from his intense daze for now as black nailed fingertips twirled a strawberry lollipop between pale lips and the nineteen-year-old was gifted a deadly and teasing smirk. 'What'cha standin' around for so lost in thought? Are ya sick today?' Narrowing chocolate brown eyes in a deadly glare, the orange haired teen couldn't conceal the lie he told when a soft touch of pink coloured his cheeks and a stuttered 'I-I'm f-fine, damn it!' echoed from petal pink lips far too quickly to be normal. It seemed that his little brother was being far too perceptive again, reading his beloved like an open book in mere seconds…

1* - Heika – King/Your Majesty

Right, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading, I really appreciate it. If I could please receive a small review for my work, I'd be eternally grateful to you and it would make me very happy. I'll see you guys again soon, hopefully, with the second part of this or something else when I feel better.

Yours Always

Chocolate Carnival