Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...

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Sidenote: Oh, man, I've got such a fucking hater. Trudee (some anonymous coward) has reviewed all of my stories claiming it's poor work, and that I am a "plot-stealer". Lmao. *flips Trudee the bird* Kick rocks, homie. back to our regularly scheduled programming, ya dig?



He was what I wanted

Exactly what I needed

He was what I fantasized

He was what I dreamed and

It would be so perfect if him and me would be...

-Destiny's Child-

The rest of the field trip flew by. Ichigo steered clear of roller coasters, and Grimmjow avoided Jinta like the boy was on fire. It was pretty funny actually. Jinta seemed to get a hell of a kick out of torturing the blue-haired lifeguard, following close on the man's heels with his fist closed, even though the spider was long gone.

"Ichi, please! I swear, I'll never ask ya for anythin' else if ya just keep that little fucker 'way from me," Grimmjow pleaded, giving Ichigo impressive, ocean-blue puppy-dog eyes.

Ichigo shook his head, chuckling softly, "He doesn't even have the spider anymore, Grimmjow."

"I don't fuckin' trust him," the blunet responded with a pout, obviously not convinced.

"Ichigo-san, can Grimmjow-san take me to the bathroom?" Jinta asked innocently enough, but the wide devilish grin splitting his features gave away his ill-intent.

Ichigo sighed, trying desperately hard not to outright laugh at the look of horror on Grimmjow's face. "No, Jinta, stop bothering him already, would you?"

"Aww man! Hey, Grimmjow-san, Takashi has somethin' for ya!"

Grimmjow screwed up his face, turned on his heel and moved off towards another food stand, muttering, "I don't fuckin' want it."

Ichigo scolded Jinta, then shooed him away towards the game stands the other campers were gathered around. The little red-haired boy huffed disappointedly, but scampered off. Ichigo made his way to the tall blunet, trying to smother the chuckles bubbling in his chest.

"How the hell can you eat so much without gaining weight?" he asked incredulously, as Grimmjow was handed another order of curly fries.

"Awesome metabolism," Grimmjow answered flatly, taking a seat on a wooden bench across from the game stands. Ichigo plopped down beside him, orange eyebrow arched in amusement.

"You're mad at me?" he grinned.


"Then why are you being cold to me?"

"What'd I ever do ta him, huh? The fuck does he keep fuckin' wit' me for?" Grimmjow suddenly snapped, temper flaring. Ichigo tucked his lips between his teeth, stifling the bark of laughter threatening to erupt from his chest. This was too good. Grimmjow snorted angrily, then chewed on a fry generously dipped in ketchup. "I mean, I could see if I did somethin' ta him, but I didn't. I don't even know the brat! And I'm gonna fuckin' gut Gin like a fish. Or maybe chop his balls off...I haven't decided yet," the blunet grumbled to himself.

He couldn't hold it in anymore.

Ichigo tipped his head back, laughing until tears streamed down his cheeks and he was clutching his gut. Holy hell. When he finally calmed down enough to catch his breath, he caught Grimmjow's livid glare. The lifeguard's lips were pursed, a small spot of ketchup right beside his bottom lip. God, he was fucking cute.

Instead of saying anything, Ichigo leaned over, cupped the back of Grimmjow's neck and slowly licked away the sauce. He pulled back wearing a smug grin, gloating over the astonished look on the bigger man's face, but then Grimmjow gave him a sly smirk as he pulled out a white cell phone.

"Put ya number in my phone, Ichi. I wanna show ya somethin' after work," he stated quietly.

Butterflies - that didn't even have the decency to warn him before they transformed into hawks swooping in on prey - erupted into flight in Ichigo's stomach. His face burned hotly, and he knew he was blushing like an idiot. He gingerly took the device, entered his number, but before he could save his name, Grimmjow plucked the phone from his hand.

"Nah, I get ta put your name," he gave a serrated grin.

"Oi! You better not!" Ichigo snapped, watching in horror as the blunet entered him under "Ichi-chan". "Grimm!" He yelped, not even realizing that he'd shortened the other man's name.

"Oh, what, s'ok for ya ta call me 'Grimm', but I can't save your name in my phone the way I want?"

Ichigo's mouth formed a small "o" of surprise at the slip, but then his chin tilted defiantly, "You were already calling me 'Ichi', so I can call you whatever I want."

Grimmjow gave a short bark of laughter, stunning blue eyes smoldering, as he put an arm across the back of the bench behind Ichigo and leaned forward, "Don't worry, Ichi, by the end of tanight, ya won't even remember your own name, let alone mine," he murmured.

Those hawks were taking flight in his gut again as Ichigo stared in open-mouthed shock at the blue-haired lifeguard. If it was possible to shoot a load at the mere thought of having Mr. Nasty time with this sinful being before him, Ichigo's boxers and shorts would've been terribly messy at the moment. He wanted to pant like a dog in 100 degree weather. Fucking hell.

How the hell should he respond to that? Frankly, what he had in mind was entirely inappropriate. Then again...Grimmjow had no problems getting under his skin and making him react like a blushing virgin. Perhaps...

Ichigo closed the small space left between them wearing a smug grin, and expertly placed his lips a hairsbreadth from Grimmjow's ear, "Don't let the blushing fool you, Grimm; I got my own ways of making you scream," he spoke softly, before rising from the bench and sauntering off to check on the campers.

Ichigo glanced back briefly and smiled proudly at the slight dusting of pink across Grimmjow's cheeks, and the widened, but darkened blue eyes. Who knew that that was all it took to make the blue-haired lifeguard blush?


That fucking strawberry would be the death of him. Ichigo was too damned sexy for his own good. All it took was a few whispered words in that husky baritone to have Grimmjow hard as a nail, and blushing like a school girl.

Fucking hell. He had to have Ichigo.

He wouldn't rest until he did.

Which was why he was headed out the door of his home, so he could pick the strawberry up. He strolled out to the circular driveway where his baby, Pantera, a royal-blue 2010 Chevy Camaro, was parked, gleaming brilliantly in the sunset. He loved his fucking car; it was probably the only thing that spoke of his family's wealth, besides their house of course.

Grimmjow was the spoiled only child of his German/American father and Japanese mother. His dad was the owner of a huge chain of stores that specialized in cosmetic products, i.e. lotions, body sprays, bath bubbles, shower gels, lip gloss, etc. All that girly shit. It was called Shower & Body Works (haha), and it was pretty popular in America and, more recently, Japan.

After spending six years with his old man in America so the stores could get on their feet, they'd moved back to Japan where Grimmjow's mother had opted to stay. She and his dad weren't "together" anymore, but the two still got along really well. Hell, if you asked him, they were on the verge of rekindling that old flame, considering his mom damn near lived with him and the old man again.

They were hilarious.

Long story short, he didn't want for anything and only worked because he had been bored off his ass. His childhood friend, Gin, had suggested the lifeguard job and the rest was history. Grimmjow didn't need the damned job, but fuck, was he glad he'd taken it, or else he wouldn't be on his way to pick up the most alluring person he'd ever had the privilege to meet.

After the camp had returned from Chappy World to the gymnasium in which everyone gathered in the mornings, Grimmjow had hitched a ride home with Gin, after promising to call Ichigo with the time he would be around to get him. Ichigo had blushed temptingly as he nodded his understanding, making Grimmjow's toes curl in anticipation.

Grimmjow had pushed Gin beyond the speed limit in his haste to get home, grab a shower, change and pick up his treat. The silver-haired bastard had found his urgency "entertaining".

"Ya better be glad I ain't hangin' ya by your balls right now, fuckin' prick!" Grimmjow snapped.

Gin laughed and gave him a cursory glance, briefly revealing his pale blue eyes, "Mah, Grimm that ain't nice."

"Fuck you! What the fuck made ya tell a kid 'bout my issue with spiders? That ain't nice! Didja know the little fucker actually put one in my face? Then hounded me the rest of the damned day? Tiny jerk better be glad I couldn't hit 'im," Grimmjow ranted, face pulled into an impressive scowl.

"Ya know, it ain't all that bad. Leas' ya got sympathy from yer lil' berry head, ne?"

Grimmjow allowed a slow grin to replace the scowl marring his features. Ichigo. He hadn't necessarily received sympathy from him, but he definitely got to spend the day with him, and that was more than enough to make up for the spider incident.

Gin's silver 2010 Honda Accord pulled into the stone, circular drive of his large cream-colored home. As soon as the vehicle rolled to a stop, Grimmjow was out of the passenger side, slamming the door and racing into the house without even a parting glance or word to his sly friend.

After showering and changing into a pair of white trunks, with gray and powder-blue piping down the sides, Grimmjow slipped into his white Nike athletic flip flops, and headed out, which brought him back to the present. He hadn't even bothered to don a shirt, since he planned to bring Ichigo right back to his home for a private pool party.

Grinning lecherously, he slid into Pantera, cranked the volume up to Slim's "So Fly", bass pounding hard enough to crack the pavement, and burned rubber out of the drive.

He had a date with a tantalizing strawberry.


Although Ichigo had teased the blue-haired lifeguard during the field trip, he was extremely nervous now that he was waiting for said man to pick him up. Grimmjow had called him an hour ago asking for his address and telling him to wear a pair of swim trunks. So, there he stood on the stoop of his family home wearing a pair of tan trunks, with black piping down the sides, a black wife beater and black Addidas athletic flip flops.

He couldn't believe he was basically going to the object of his lust's home. Or so he'd been told when Grimmjow had called him. If things went the way Ichigo planned, he would be getting to know the tall blunet much better...well, his body anyway.

The front door to his home flew open, revealing his retarded father. "Ichigo, my sonnnnn! Where are you going? Aren't you eating dinner with your beloved family?" the older man cried.

Ichigo rolled his eyes as he dodged an overly enthusiastic hug. He wrestled his old man into a headlock, and was about to scold him for being so fucking annoying, when loud music interrupted him. The vibrations from the bass set off car alarms and rattled windows.

What the hell?

Ichigo watched as a beautiful, royal-blue American car pulled to a stop in front of his home. The windows were rolled up and tinted so black, there was no way he'd be able to see inside. The bone-shaking music lowered a few decibals, and the driver's side door - that was located on the left instead of the right - swung open. Grimmjow stepped out, slowly making his way, with his hands stuffed in the pockets of a pair of white trunks, towards Ichigo and his father, whose eyes were wide and mouths slightly open.

The fucking man was shirtless! Uwahh! Ichigo was sure if it weren't for his - ahem - iron-clad control, he would definitely be sporting an impressive nosebleed.

Grimmjow finally stood before Ichigo and Isshin, a sexy smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. Coming to his senses and releasing his old man from the headlock he'd trapped him in, Ichigo straightened his back to stare directly into Grimmjow's intense blue eyes.

Fuck. He suddenly felt like a menopausal woman, hot-flashing, as he wiped his sweaty palms down the front of his trunks. If sex appeal was illegal, Grimmjow would be locked away for life, underneath the jail, never to see the light of day again. It was that ridiculous. The man's chest tensed and flexed with every movement he made, and Ichigo wanted to run his tongue over each rippling indentation that marked the blunet's luscious abdomen.

"'Sup, Ichi? Ya ready ta go?" That deep voice made Ichigo shiver like a tuning fork.

Nodding stupidly, unable to break gazes with the taller man, Ichigo started forward, but was immediately tugged backward by the back of his shirt. "What the hell, Dad?" he snapped.

Isshin, in a strange moment of seriousness, arched a dark brow at Ichigo, then gave Grimmjow a pointed glance, "Who's your friend, Ichigo?"

"Ah, th-this is Grimmjow. He's, uh, a friend from work. Grimm, this is my dad."

Grimmjow held a hand out towards Isshin, "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, nice ta meet ya."

Isshin's eyebrows flew to his hairline as his eyes widened comically, "Jaegerjaques? As in Jaegerjaques Inc.?" the elder Kurosaki asked incredulously. Ichigo followed the exchange like a spectator at a tennis match. Jaegerjaques Inc.? The Jaegerjaques Inc.?

"Yeah, but that's my old man's company," Grimmjow nonchalantly responded.

"Holy shit," Ichigo breathed, "what the hell are you working at Seireitei for?"

Grimmjow grinned wolfishly, "I was bored."

"Ichigooooo, myyyyy sonnnn, make sure you're careful! Use protecti-" before Isshin could further embarrass him, Ichigo elbowed him in the mouth and shoved him back inside the house.

"Ichi, your old man's fuckin' loopy," the blue-haired lifeguard stated through a chuckle. "Ya ready?"


Grimmjow led the way to the rumbling piece of sexy machinery, even opening the door for Ichigo, before rounding the car and sliding into the driver's seat. The interior had to be custom because the upholstery was a dark-gray leather with royal blue stitching. It was fully equipped with a navigational system, dvd player and state-of-the-art Bose sound system. Basically a wet dream on wheels. And it was filled with Grimmjow's unique scent mixed with the unmistakable smell of leather. Ichigo wanted to swoon.

"This car is awesome," he mumbled in appreciation, making Grimmjow give a proud, serrated grin. "What is it?"

"Thanks, Ichi. She's a Chevy Camaro and her name is Pantera."

Ichigo quirked an amused brow, "You named your car?"

"Of course," Grimmjow looked affronted, as if the mere thought of him not naming the car was blasphemy.

" gotta thing for panthers or something?"

"My favorite animal. They're beautiful creatures."

Ichigo hummed in agreement and tried to distract himself from the positively sinful sight Grimmjow made, torso bared and fucking calling out to Ichigo like a siren. It didn't work. Grimmjow's blue hair fell across his brow and stuck up in the back in the sexiest case of bedhead Ichigo had ever witnessed. The words "controlled mess" immediately sprang to mind. Grimmjow's arms tensed and flexed as he switched gears and steered, careening through the streets of Karakura.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the blue-haired man to save his soul.


About fifteen minutes later, they pulled into the circular drive of the biggest house Ichigo had ever seen. His jaw hit his thighs from his spot in the passenger's seat, and all he could do was gape like an idiot. He absently wondered if Grimmjow and his dad had servants, then inwardly chuckled at his stupidity.

They exited the car, and Ichigo followed Grimmjow around the side of the incredible, cream-colored, stone structure to a huge backyard, complete with a large rectangular pool. The crisp, pale-blue water of the pool sparkled under the bright lights situated around its perimeter, beckoning them to jump in. There were three diving boards along the deep end of the pool, one short, one medium, and one fucking scarily tall.

The back of the house held two huge glass doors that led onto a deck-styled patio. Everything was so...westernized. It was undeniably gorgeous though, that was for sure. Grimmjow pointed to a pool chair, "Sit an' relax. Ya want somethin' ta drink?"

That was when Ichigo noticed the covered bar off to the left of the pool. A tall man with long, dark hair, worn back in a single braid, was wearing a white, short-sleeved polo shirt and black slacks, and wiping down the bar counter with a white rag. They have a bar...and a bartender...holy fuck.

Ichigo shrugged, "I guess." Grimmjow grinned at him, no doubt amused by his reaction.

"How 'bout a beer?"


God, he sounded like a fucking fool. His tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth...again, and his libido was going berserk, not to mention he was in awe of the luxury surrounding him. Ichigo watched Grimmjow walk over to the bar, admiring the blunet's tattoo the entire time. The gothic-stylized six on the right side of his lower back was indeed intriguing. Ichigo remembered seeing it for the first time at the camp during his group's swim time, and when he'd asked about it, Grimmjow had explained that he had been drunk off his ass and dared by an old friend to get a tattoo. So, he'd gotten the first thing that came to mind, which just so happened to be his favorite number. Six. Whatever the reason, the black ink against that tan skin was fascinating, and made Ichigo's mouth water.

"Yo, Shawlong, 'sup?" Grimmjow greeted the bartender, who smiled at him fondly, the way an old uncle would.

"Hello, Grimmjow-sama, wh-"

"Shaw, stop fuckin' callin' me 'sama'. S'annoyin'," Shawlong grimaced at the curse, but nodded all the same to Grimmjow's sullen grumbling. "I need a couple beers. Please."

Shawlong nodded again, reached under the counter and withdrew two perspiring bottles of beer, then cracked the tops before handing them off. Grimmjow gave a heart-stopping grin, "Thanks, Shaw," he stated rather warmly, and made his way back to Ichigo.

Ichigo fidgeted, hopefully unnoticeably, as Grimmjow settled himself on another pool chair across from him. The blunet wasn't even that close to him and Ichigo could smell his intoxicating scent. He inwardly groaned, mind flinging itself into the gutter.

He wanted to do the raunchiest shit to this guy.

After about four beers, Ichigo was shirtless and buzzing nicely, trying not to make his stomach burst from laughing at Grimmjow's antics. His stories of his years lived in America were entertaining as hell, as well as his stories of the shit he and Gin used to get into. Ichigo had been astounded to find that the two men had been childhood friends, but after hearing about the silver-haired man's personality, he could see how they were drawn to one another.

"Ya know him an' Hitsugaya gotta thing goin', right?" Grimmjow suddenly asked, plopping down beside Ichigo at the edge of the pool, their legs dangling over the side.

Ichigo's eyes widened and his mouth fell open, "No fucking way!" he almost shouted, making Grimmjow laugh, his blue eyes dancing and crinkling in the corners.

"Totally," he drawled sarcastically, before slipping into the water and disappearing beneath the surface.

Ichigo couldn't believe his friend hadn't told him he was seeing the assistant director. Then again, had he been paying attention, it would've been completely obvious from their behavior at Chappy World. It was normal to see the two together all the time, but Toshiro being handed a large Chappy bunny after Gin won it at the water-gun game, certainly wasn't. Neither was the fiery blush that had consumed his short friend's face. How the hell hadn't he noticed that? Oh, yeah. He had been a little preoccupied himself.

As if on cue, Grimmjow broke the surface of the water, streaming rivulets cascading over his hair and down his chest. Alarms went off in Ichigo's head at the wicked grin splitting the blunet's face in two, but before he could even react, Grimmjow had his arms wrapped tightly around his waist, lifting him from the edge of the pool.

Gripping the man's shoulders, all he could do was shout, "Grimm, no!" before Grimmjow fell backwards, submerging them both. Thank kami they were only in four feet of water.

Ichigo broke the surface, sputtering indignantly, then realized Grimmjow still had a hold on his waist as they stood together. It wasn't German suplex tight like before, but Grimmjow's hands gripped his sides as his thumbs rubbed small circles into the skin. When Ichigo lifted his gaze to peer up at Grimmjow, his breath caught. The man's eyes were positively smoldering, darkened with lust to a deep midnight-blue.

"Ichi...I want ya," he murmured, pulling Ichigo closer and resting their foreheads together.

Ichigo stood on his toes, wrapped his arms around the taller man's neck and kissed him softly, "I want you too, Grimm."

Grimmjow groaned quietly before pressing his lips against Ichigo's again, this time prying them open and driving his tongue inside. Ichigo didn't even bother fighting for dominance over the kiss; he very much enjoyed allowing Grimmjow to take over. The thrusting of the blunet's warm, wet tongue started off gently, but swiftly turned aggressive as the tension built.

Shit, it was good.

Even though the pool water was cool, Ichigo's body temperature was steadily rising. Every nerve felt taut and alive, begging for Grimmjow to touch him all over. As if Grimmjow could read his thoughts, his large hands roamed Ichigo's body, up his sides, across his back, up his arms, then back down his sides to grasp his bottom.

Ichigo moaned into the kiss as Grimmjow palmed and kneaded his ass, simultaneously pulling him closer until there wasn't even a millimeter of space between them. He moaned again at the feel of Grimmjow's length hardening against his hip.

Oh god, now. Now, now now.

Ichigo was seriously beginning to think that Grimmjow had psychic abilities or something because no sooner than that thought crossed his mind, the bigger man had Ichigo in his arms again, lifting him back onto the side of the pool. Grimmjow moved between his legs and began assaulting his neck, licking, sucking and biting.

Ichigo felt like his insides had been consumed by a raging fucking inferno that was refusing to let up. Not that he wanted it to. He was high, floating on a cloud of lust and absolutely drunk with desire. He tipped his head back, baring more of his neck, and Grimmjow bit down on the sensitive skin where his shoulder connected.

"Ah!" Ichigo cried out, plowing his fingers through the wet, silken strands of Grimmjow's bright blue hair.

Grimmjow tightened his grip on Ichigo's hips, growling, "Mmm, Ichi." His deep voice rumbled through Ichigo's chest, making the smaller man moan breathlessly.

"G-Grimm, wait! What about that guy?" Ichigo suddenly remembered the bartender, and sincerely hoped they weren't giving the distinguished-looking gentleman such a lewd show.

Grimmjow lifted his head, face flushed and eyes half-lidded as he glanced towards the bar, then back at Ichigo, "Shaw? He's gone. 'Sides, he knows I'm gay." Before Ichigo could respond, Grimmjow had returned to his previous activity.

The blunet licked a wet trail over Ichigo's clavicle, nipping gently, before moving on down the center of his chest and leaving open-mouthed kisses along the breastbone. Grimmjow's lips were feverish, scalding Ichigo's skin as they moved over his chest, and when the man captured his left nipple between those lips, then sucked, Ichigo arched desperately into the touch.

"Shit," he whimpered.

Grimmjow wasted no time in switching nipples, emitting a soft grunt of approval when Ichigo moaned and ran his hands across his shoulders. Suddenly, the man's large hand eased down Ichigo's abdomen, where he hooked his fingers in the waistband of his trunks and tugged slightly.

The next thing Ichigo knew, his swim trunks were deftly undone and Grimmjow was brushing his knuckles against pale orange pubic hair. Grimmjow's mouth left Ichigo's chest and came back up to reclaim his already kiss-swollen lips, eagerly delving his tongue deeply inside.

Ichigo gasped loudly when Grimmjow found his erection and let his fingers trace idly against it. "Oh my god," he moaned into the blue-haired lifeguard's mouth.

Grimmjow pulled back, grinning wolfishly as he gripped the waistband of Ichigo's trunks, and with one sharp tug, lowered the shorts to the middle of his thighs. He blushed furiously at the way Grimmjow leered hungrily down at his equipment while continuing to pull the tan trunks off his legs. Ichigo almost covered himself, but the warning glare from the other man quickly changed his mind.

"Dontchu dare," Grimmjow husked, "you're fuckin' beautiful, Ichigo."

"Shutup," Ichigo mumbled in embarrassment, face burning.

Grimmjow grinned and, without warning, lowered his head, giving the head of Ichigo's dick a long, languid lick. Ichigo jerked forward drastically, cursing loudly as he gripped a handful of damp, blue locks.

What in the hell?

Grimmjow was so aggressive, giving Ichigo no time to prepare for the way the bigger man engulfed almost half of his length in one go. Whining pitifully, all he could do was thrust his hips in time to Grimmjow's maddening sucks and swirling tongue. Heat gathered and built in Ichigo's pelvis, coiling tightly, making sweat form across his brow as he was hurled towards an orgasm at a terrifying speed.

Goddammit, his toes were curling.

The blunet wouldn't let up, in fact, he palmed and massaged Ichigo's balls while he picked up the pace, head bobbing faster and faster.


The noises weren't helping either. Loud slurping mingled with Ichigo's harsh pants and frantic moans. Grimmjow gripped his thighs, sucking with no hands, and the coil in his pelvis snapped so abruptly, it almost scared Ichigo.

"Ahhhmmpphhh!" All he could manage were incoherent, garbled noises as he came with the force of a train wreck.

Grimmjow grinned, giving one last suck to Ichigo's spent member before visibly swallowing. Ichigo shuddered, trying to catch his breath, mouth hanging open as air left him in rapid gasps.

Not even heaven or hell had anything that fucking intense.

Losing his mind, and intent on returning the favor, he grabbed Grimmjow by the shoulders, slid back into the water and began undoing the larger man's trunks, while attacking his neck with relish.

"Whoa, Ichi," Grimmjow yelped when Ichigo dragged the white shorts down over his hips, freeing his stiff arousal.


Ichigo felt like a madman, as he licked, sucked, nibbled, kissed and bit every inch of skin he could reach. His hand moved down and firmly wrapped around the blue-haired lifeguard's impressive erection, stroking urgently.

He had never wanted anyone this badly.

Grimmjow growled like an animal, hands grappling for purchase on Ichigo's hips. He was probably trying to reclaim some semblance of control, but Ichigo wouldn't hear of it. He licked and nipped his way down Grimmjow's perfect abdomen, and by the time he made it to the man's navel an idea had sprouted in his mind.

Taking an insanely deep breath, he ducked under the water and took Grimmjow into his mouth. Water entered his mouth as well, but it was well-worth it when he noticed the lifeguard's knees buckle slightly. Ichigo felt a hand in his hair, and before his air supply depleted itself, started up a frenzied pace. Grimmjow's grip on his hair tightened and just as Ichigo grasped his rear and squeezed, the man forcefully tugged on his extremely wet hair, yanking him above the surface. Ichigo gulped down deep lungfuls of air, gasping from the lack thereof, as Grimmjow clutched his waist.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Grimmjow panted, resting his forehead against Ichigo's. Ichigo didn't even get a chance to catch his breath all the way, when Grimmjow led him to three stairs in the shallow end of the pool.

Ichigo was pushed down onto the second step, while the lifeguard ordered him to, "Turn around," in a gruff voice. He positioned himself on his hands and knees, then peeked over his shoulder at Grimmjow, who was stroking his straining length as he advanced.

For one fleeting moment, Ichigo worried that the man was going to take him dry, but all doubts were quickly dispelled when he felt Grimmjow's hot, wet tongue lapping at his entrance.


"Mm," he moaned quietly, thoroughly enjoying the sensation.

Grimmjow spread Ichigo's cheeks apart for better access, and proceeded to ease his tongue inside of him. Ichigo rolled his hips and bit his bottom lip.

God, it felt good.

Suddenly, the lifeguard's tongue disappeared, and just as Ichigo turned to see why, Grimmjow inserted a saliva-slickened finger into him. He gasped and arched his back.

"Mm-more...god, Grimm, more!" He yelped.

"Fuck, yeah," Grimmjow murmured to himself, as he quickly inserted another finger. "You're so tight, Ichi. I can't wait ta get inside ya."

The lustily groaned statement, as well as Grimmjow inserting a third finger, then scissoring them all, hardened his dick almost painfully, "Fuck, hurry up then!"

Ichigo was beside himself with anxiety, want, and need; so much so, he felt like he would explode. His arousal throbbed, twitching and pulsing as Grimmjow brushed his prostate, "Unngh!" he whimpered after a spastic jolt.

Ichigo barely registered Grimmjow removing his fingers, but was jerked to awareness when something hot, blunt and wet prodded his entrance, before pushing its way into his slightly loosened hole.

"Ahhh! Yes!" he cried almost desperately.

Grimmjow didn't stop until he was fully seated, then he paused to let Ichigo adjust. Ichigo rolled his hips again, this time begging for friction, while at the same time adapting to the large intrusion.

"Oh my fuckin' god, Ichi," Grimmjow groaned, hands clasping and unclasping Ichigo's cheeks.

Ichigo leaned forward, gripping the metal railing connected to the pool stairs, then pushed back onto Grimmjow's dick.

Good grief, god must've been horny as shit when he created Grimmjow, because the man was made for sex.

The lifeguard gripped Ichigo's hips and immediately began to pound into him. No pace building, no easing into a steady rhythm, just raw aggression.

Ichigo loved it.

He grit his teeth, growling, "Nnnnghnn, just like that," as his knees slid against the slippery stairs with each near brutal thrust.

Ichigo could hear the water sloshing against Grimmjow's legs, as well as the loud slapping of wet skin, as the lifeguard grunted and buried himself to the hilt repeatedly, mercilessly abusing Ichigo's prostate.

"So good, Ichi," Grimmjow panted harshly, then smacked his ass, "what's my name?"

Ichigo was simultaneously stunned and aroused beyond belief. Did Grimmjow just...smack his ass? His question was swiftly answered when the man did it again, this time hard enough to probably leave a mark. He accompanied the smack with a particularly well-placed - not to mention hard - thrust, stabbing Ichigo's prostate with deadly accuracy, "Say it!"

Even if the blue-haired lifeguard hadn't have told him to, Ichigo still would've screamed the man's name as he came until he saw stars dancing before his shut eyes, "GRIMM-JOOWW!"

"Fuck! Goddammit, Ichi!" Grimmjow shouted as he was pulled into his own release, thrusting hard and deep, and pressing himself tightly against Ichigo's backside.

Ichigo couldn't breathe, hell, he didn't even want to think, let alone move, but he needed to at least sit so he could recuperate properly. Thankfully, Grimmjow must have felt the same, because after a minute or so, he hooked an arm around Ichigo's waist, helping him to stand up straight as he eased out of him.

Ichigo followed Grimmjow to a separate, small house that the lifeguard called the pool house, and once inside, both men collapsed onto an extremely large and comfy couch. He nuzzled the blunet's neck as he wrapped an arm around the man's waist, and Grimmjow pulled a small throw from the back of the couch, draping it across their legs.

"I gotta work harder," Grimmjow murmured, voice thick with sleep and eyes shut. Ichigo frowned in confusion. What the hell was he talking about?


"Ya still remembered my name."

Ichigo scoffed exasperatedly, snuggling closer to the bigger male. Grimmjow would say something retarded like that.

But Ichigo loved it.

As a matter of fact, you could say he was addicted.

Nice, long ending, ne? There will be no more! This is it! So, I hope you enjoyed it! xD