This was originally an idea I had for a one/two shot, but the plot became too long to put in my one-shot collection so it's going to be a mini-story.
Special thanks to the wonderful Panruru for betaing this chapter!
Warnings: foul language, reference to sexual situations that may not be suitable for younger readers.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, they belong to Kubo.
Jenny, I got your number,
I need to make you mine.
Jenny, don't change your number,
867-5309 Jenny Tommy Tutone
Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz
A fist slammed into the radio alarm clock. The man lying on the bed next to it cracked open one blue eye and stared at the time. 6:58 AM. He groaned and rolled onto his side, reluctant to leave the warmth of his comfortable bed. A few more minutes couldn't hurt, right? He shut his eyes once more and was just drifting back to sleep when his phone started vibrating. He groaned and grabbed it off the nightstand to irritably flip it open.
"What?" he growled.
"Yo Grimmjow, ya better get down here soon! The boss is already here and waiting to write people up if they're late!" warned the man on the other end in a voice entirely too loud for so early an hour. Grimmjow cursed and heard the caller hang up.
"Fucking son of a bitch," he hissed as he threw his phone to the end of the bed and sat up to stretch. Why his boss always scheduled him to work Saturday mornings he'd never know. He had a suspicion that his boss hated him and was looking for any reason to get rid of him. The bastard had already written him up three times for minor mistakes he'd made at the shop and for clocking in a minute late. He probably knew that the blue-haired man always went out on Friday nights and came home around three, sometimes four in the morning. It wouldn't surprise him if his friend had squealed on him either, the little kiss ass.
At last, he reluctantly swung his legs over the side of the bed. The carpet felt rough under his feet, and the morning air quickly chilled the skin not covered by his blue and white striped boxers. He walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, already knowing it was going to be a bad day.
He turned on the water in the shower and waited until it was lukewarm before lifting the lid on the toilet and dropping his boxers to take a piss. He yawned and felt his eyes slip shut without his permission, then had to shake his head vigorously to stay awake.
Must have been some night, he thought to himself, giving his penis one last shake before flushing the toilet, stepping into the shower, and pulling the curtain closed. He just stood there for a moment, letting the water drench his hair and run down his muscular chest. At least he was starting to feel a little more awake now.
After a few seconds he opened his eyes, picked up the washrag, and was about to grab the soap when he noticed something written on his hand in black. He paused to frown down at it. It wasn't unusual for him to wake up with a name and number written somewhere on his body or clothes, but he generally discarded them. This one didn't look to be any different, so he grabbed the soap and scrubbed at his hand for a few moments before rubbing soap into the rag and washing up. The ink wasn't entirely gone, but it would most likely wear off later in the day.
Once he'd lathered up his body with soap, he grabbed the shampoo and squirted some on his hand. When he looked at the bright orange lotion he felt an odd sense of déjà vu, but he shook off the feeling as quickly as it'd come. He needed to get to work before his boss wrote him up again and thought of a reason to fire him. He rubbed the shampoo into his hair and shifted his thoughts to the previous night, trying to remember what had happened.
9 Hours Ago
Grimmjow glared down at his shot glass as he sat alone at the bar. His friend Nnoitra had told him that a new dance club had opened up and was going to be the number one place to hang out in town. It had sounded like a good idea at the time so he'd allowed him to drag him there along with his other friends, Ulquiorra and Stark, only to discover that the place was a total glitter fest. Pink streamers hanging from the ceiling. A disco ball above the sparkling purple dance floor that sent purple and pink lights every which way. Even the fucking men's room was like that, and there was no way he was going to piss in a pink urinal!
Once they had gotten there he'd discovered the real reason they'd been dragged there: Nnoitra's boyfriend of four months was working there and could get them in for free. Now the two were making out against the wall by the bathrooms. He'd rather have stayed home and drunk himself to sleep.
The place is filled with babes; if you come, you'll totally score. Grimmjow snorted as he remembered the line Nnoitra had used to get him to come. The idea had been very tempting since he hadn't dated anyone since he'd broken up with his boyfriend three months ago, and it had been at least three and a half months since the last time he got laid.
More like six months, he thought scornfully as he thought of his last boyfriend. The guy would always just lay there and take it in the ass. No noises of pleasure or any other indications that he liked it. The sex wasn't the only thing that was bad about their relationship either; his boyfriend had been really standoffish around his friends and often commented on how his clothes looked like they'd been picked up at a flea market. That was one relationship he didn't miss.
He glanced around at the people in the club, not seeing a normal one in the bunch. Most seemed like they'd just escaped from a psych ward with the way they were dancing around and laughing like hyenas. He turned his attention towards his friends and saw that Nnoitra was still shoving his tongue down his boyfriend's throat, Ulquiorra was sitting at a table talking with a girl who worked at one of the other shops his boss owned, and Stark, as usual, was sound asleep.
"Give me another," Grimmjow ordered the bartender, sliding his glass over. Even the bar here was on the sissy side, serving nothing but drinks that had the work "fruit" in them. He wanted something that'd knock him out quickly to make the night go by faster, but unfortunately he'd had to settle for a Fruit Knockout.
He rested his cheek against the palm of one hand and tapped the counter with the other. This was a complete waste of a Friday night, and he swore that once they left he was going to kick Nnoitra's ass for even suggesting this place.
"You too?" A stranger sat down next to him and waved his hand towards the bartender. Grimmjow rolled his eyes and hoped the man would go away, not wishing to associate with any of the nut jobs in this place. "So how many times have you been dragged to this dump?" the stranger asked, and Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. At least this person seemed to have some common sense. He turned his head to the side, and that was when his jaw almost hit the counter.
The stranger sitting next to him was GORGEOUS! No, that wasn't a good enough word to describe him. He was a beauty amongst beauties! He had soft orange hair that was unkempt but sexy. It came nearly to his shoulders in the back but was shorter in the front, bright locks falling over the warmest brown eyes Grimmjow had ever seen. They radiated calm and relaxation, yet there was a fire that burned in them that said 'don't-fuck-with-me!' His skin was lightly tanned and smooth everywhere Grimmjow could see without a single sign of scarring or wrinkles. Then there were those full pink lips that were curved into a small smile. Grimmjow licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to devour the beauty next to him.
"You okay?" beauty asked him, waving a hand in front of his face. He blinked, realizing he had been so distracted staring at the other that he hadn't heard a word he'd said.
"Huh? Oh, uh, this is the first time," Grimmjow finally replied, and scooted his chair closer. "One of my friends dragged me here so he could make out with his boyfriend," he continued, noticing that the drink he had ordered was sitting in front of him. He pushed it to the side since he had found something far more appealing. "What about you? Ya come here often?" he asked his beauty.
"This is the second time I've been roped into coming. One of my friends threatened to smash my balls if I didn't take our other friend." Beauty sighed and looked past him as if searching for someone. He watched those brown eyes scan the crowd and couldn't help but move closer until their legs brushed. He knew that if he moved too fast he would scare him off, but it was hard to resist. He had to make him his!
"Oh god." Grimmjow tilted his head to the side when his beauty's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he smacked a hand over his eyes. At first Grimmjow thought he had been the cause of the flush (which made beauty look even more fuckable than before), but then he pointed towards the crowd. "Those are my friends." He pointed at a redhead, a brunette, and a black-haired boy dancing with a short black-haired girl and another with long orange hair (beauty's hair looked better though, in his opinion.)
"Oh sorry, I forgot, my name is Ic?i?o Ku?os?i," his beauty finally introduced himself. He shook his hand, bringing a smirk to Grimmjow's lips. He'd remember that name for the rest of his life.
"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez." He took his beauty's soft hand and found he didn't want to let go. "So, how old are you?" he asked, deciding he'd better start up a conversation before his beauty got bored. The last thing he wanted was for him to get up and leave. Unless he was leaving to go back to Grimmjow's place, of course; he wouldn't mind that one bit. He was sure he could keep him entertained for the night.
"Twenty-two, you?" beauty replied. He took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving Grimmjow's. Grimmjow watched as those brown eyes flicked from his face down his body before returning to his eyes once more. He inwardly smirked. His beauty liked what he saw, did he?
"Twenty-three," Grimmjow replied, then started shifting the conversation to his orange-haired beauty. He asked him about school, work, his home life, friends, and pretty much everything he could think of in an attempt to find out more about the lovely creature sitting next to him.
"And then there's my father." His beauty scowled, which looked so cute Grimmjow could hardly sit still. It wasn't a word that he liked to use most of the time, but it fit his beauty perfectly. "The crazy bastard attacks me every fucking chance he gets. No matter how many times I beat him down, he never stops! He doesn't do it with my sisters or my brother. The only explanation he's ever given me is that he's trying to toughen me up so I can defend myself again the horny suitors that will apparently be after my ass. What kind of father talks that way?" Beauty huffed and leaned back against the counter.
Who wouldn't be after his ass? Grimmjow thought privately. He wondered if his beauty was a virgin. Given how defensive he seemed about his father's remark, Grimmjow suspected that he was. God, to be the first one shoving my cock into that ass would be heaven. He shifted, feeling his cock begin to stir.
"Sounds like-" Grimmjow started when his voice was abruptly lost to him.
His beauty had taken off his sweater!
Grimmjow had to shut his mouth to keep the drool from pouring out of it as his eyes feasted upon the sight of his beauty wearing a tight black tank top that clung to his chest. There was more skin for his eyes to explore now, and he was pleased to find that his beauty must work out. The muscles on his arms weren't completely bulked up, but were just the right size for his lithe form.
Fuck, I need to get him home, Grimmjow thought to himself. His cock was becoming harder, and his pants were getting a little too tight. He wanted nothing more than to tear off his beauty's clothes and fuck him against the counter.
"Oh sorry, it was getting a little warm in here." His beauty smirked devilishly as if he knew what he was doing to Grimmjow. His beauty apparently had a dark side. Well that would have to be tamed, and he was just the lucky bastard to do it!
"Ku?os?i-kun, can you take me home?" Grimmjow's eye twitched when the orange-haired bitch from earlier came up and sat down on the other side of his beauty. What the fuck was her problem? Couldn't she see that he and his beauty were having a good time? She could walk home and get kidnapped for all he cared!
"Can't you have someone else take you home?" beauty muttered, sounding just as annoyed as he was at being disturbed. Grimmjow smirked triumphantly. Take that, bitch!
"But Ku?os?i-kun, everyone else already left and you promised you would take me home," the bitch whined, and Grimmjow had to suppress the urge to smack her away. He'd never hit a woman (mainly because his sister would kick the crap out of him), but in this case he was willing to make an exception.
"Fine." His beauty sounded defeated, and Grimmjow's heart clenched. The night was still young and there was so much he wanted to do with his beauty. Up against the wall, on the counter, against the window, on the bed, on the floor; there were so many different ways to fuck his beauty into oblivion that he wanted to try! "I'll meet you by the car," beauty told the bitch, who now had a cheerful smile on her fucking stupid face.
"Thank you, Ku?os?i-kun!" Grimmjow clenched his hands into fists and had to bite his tongue to keep himself from jumping over his beauty and punching the bitch away. The urge got even worse when she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him and giving him a kiss on the cheek before leaving. No one, and he meant no one, touched HIS beauty!
"Sorry we have to cut the night short," beauty said, scratching the back of his head apologetically. Grimmjow's eyes softened. It wasn't his beauty's fault; it was his stupid friend's! Beauty turned to the bartender. "Hey, you have a pen?" The bartender wordlessly rolled one across the counter.
"Maybe we can meet up again sometime?" his beauty suggested, taking Grimmjow's left hand and writing his name and phone number down. Grimmjow looked down at the name and number, feeling slightly better with the knowledge that this wouldn't be the last time he and his beauty met. The next would be much more romantic than a few drinks in a fruity pink dance club, and would end with his beauty screaming his name as he fucked him into the sheets!
"Ya can count on it." Grimmjow smirked and stood up the same time his beauty did to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him closer. "How about something to remember me by?" he suggested. His beauty made no protests, and was in fact the one who moved first to lock his soft lips against the blue-haired man's.
Grimmjow felt his heart jump in his chest when he heard his beauty moan against his mouth. It was like music to his ears. He took his beauty's bottom lip into his mouth and sucked on it, enjoying the way he tasted of fresh strawberries. Finally, he released the imprisoned lip and ran his tongue against his beauty's lips in a wordless request for access which was quickly granted. He was surprised to meet the slight resistance of his beauty's tongue that seemed to fight for dominance. Ah, his beauty would not go down without a fight, would he? Impossibly, that made him even more attractive. Their tongues dueled and wrapped around each other until he forced the other's tongue into submission and gained access to his beauty's mouth. He felt arms wrap around his neck and pull him even deeper into his mouth, hands tugging on his hair to encouraging him to continue. God, his beauty was sin incarnated! He could have spent the entire night devouring his beauty and if it wasn't for the fucking jealous bartender, he would have continued to do so.
Grimmjow opened his eyes and stared down at his hand. "FUCK!" he swore, and immediately pulled back the curtain and ran out of the bathroom. He had to find a piece of paper and fast before the rest of the number disappeared!
God Damnit! Why the hell did I fucking wash it off? He berated himself as he slid into the kitchen, nearly falling onto his ass when his wet feet hit the floor. He raced to the junk drawer and pulled it open, tossing aside useless junk with frustration and grinning like a madman when he found a piece of paper and slammed it on the counter. He glanced down at his hand again and started writing what he could make out from the smudged writing.
I C I O K U O S I
0 1 5
Grimmjow stared at the number and pounded his fist into the counter. Damnit, how could he forget beauty's name? Furthermore, how the hell was he supposed to find him with only three digits of his phone number? He stared at the paper in defeat, a sense of horrible loss welling up at the realization that he might never see the orange-haired beauty again.
His eyes suddenly narrowed and he stood up straight and shook his head, causing water to splatter everywhere. No, he wouldn't give up! He would find his beauty even if he had to search every last inch of this town!
He'd have his beauty no matter how long it took!