Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...

Thanks to my beta, Sonbon!



He had been a bully.

An asshole.

An evil motherfucker.

But he was GORGEOUS.

Ichigo screwed up his face as he marched past the Karakura Fire Department. There were several men lounging around the facility and all of them were handsome, some downright hot, but there was one that stood out to Ichigo like a sore thumb. He wouldn't go there, though.

Two large, bright red fire engines were parked in the open garage of the medium-sized, brick building, the firefighters on duty in their casual uniforms of dark-blue t-shirts and dark-blue, warm-up pants, sporting the Fire Department's logo. Some wore sneakers, while others wore the standard issue fire boots. Ichigo thought that was absurd, considering the weather was sweltering and could probably make the devil himself sweat and curse. Then again, it did reduce the amount of time spent throwing the huge footwear on in the case of an emergency.

Three of the firefighters were seated on the front of one of the fire engines, looking like they stepped straight from a women's magazine. One was around his height, with pale skin, ash-white, short, spiky hair and strange inverted eyes, the irises a bright gold, while the sclera was pitch-black. He had a wide, mischievous grin and a really loud, boisterous voice. His body was muscular, but more lean and wiry. He was wearing the dark-blue uniform t-shirt and warm-up pants, but he wore a pair of black sneakers with it.

The second man was tall and had long, bright red hair that he usually wore in a ponytail, but today he wore down over his broad shoulders. He had dark, tribal tattoos for eyebrows and they seemed to travel down the sides of his neck and underneath his dark-blue shirt. He had expressive, russett-colored eyes and a wide, friendly grin. He was more muscular than the albino and he wore it well. He also had a really deep voice and a wonderful laugh. Whenever Ichigo heard it, it always made him smile. He too wore the dark-blue t-shirt with the dark-blue warm-up pants, but he accompanied his with the humongous black and yellow fire boots.

The last man made his blood boil like a pot of soup. Ichigo couldn't stand him, but he was undeniably the most beautiful creature out of the whole firefighting bunch. Well, in his opinion anyway. This man was hot enough to set fire to wet grass. He was tall, even taller than the red head. He had bright, electric blue hair that he wore in a mouth-wateringly sexy style, akin to controlled chaos. A few strands rebelled and covered his brow and his sideburns were long and unruly, but the overall effect was devastating. His body reminded Ichigo of a Greek statue, his broad, well-defined chest glistening under the bright rays of the afternoon sun. His arms were legendary, roped with taut, sinewy muscle and his abdomen was the picture of perfection, rippling and dipping in all the right places. His arms and upper torso were covered with tattoos, but it didn't stop there. The lower right side of his back held a large, gothic-stylized six and on the left side of his neck, the word SEXTA was inked in an outstanding black. His eyes were a bright ocean-blue, like what one thinks of when imagining waters of the Caribbean. They were dazzling and mesmerizing and wholly infuriating.

What was worse, the man knew he was sinfully fine. If he didn't, why was he sitting there wearing nothing but his large, black firefighting pants with the suspenders up over his broad shoulders...and that was it. Oh yeah, the boots, but they certainly didn't count when one had all that eye candy going on above and slightly below the waist. The pants hung low and showed the beginning of the "v" of his pelvis, making Ichigo have to strangle the urge to fan himself as he walked past. It was hard enough staring without getting caught, while also avoiding street signs and cracks in the pavement.

Ichigo thought he was safe since he was across the street from the facility and was actually trying to be obscure by wearing colors that blended well with his surroundings. He knew it sounded strange, but he hated the blue-haired man for a reason; he wasn't just making that up to compensate for his lack of mental control. He was wearing a light-gray, New Era fitted cap over his bright orange locks, a form-fitting, gray wife beater, stone-washed blue, denim shorts and a pair of light-gray and blue Nike Jordans. He was hustling past the Fire Department Headquarters because even though he enjoyed looking at the man candy being presented, he hated being seen by the tall, blue-haired bastard that had been the bane of existence since middle school.

Sure, he could take a different route home from work, but that would cost him an extra fifteen minutes and in this heat, that was a fifteen minutes he just couldn't afford. Japan was in the middle of one of its worst heat waves in ten years and you could feel it. Sometimes, Ichigo would swear his bones were sweating and crying out for release.

"YO! BERRY-CHAN! WHERE YA GOIN' WITHOUT SAYIN' HI?" a loud, deep voice called out, making him cringe and grind his teeth together.

Ichigo shoved his hands into his shorts pockets, hell bent on ignoring the blue-haired idiot as he continued up the street. There was the sound of loud footsteps clomping against the ground and Ichigo knew there was no getting around the upcoming confrontation.

"What the hell do you want from my life, Grimmjow?" he asked, turning an exasperated glare to the taller man that had finally caught up with him.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaques gave him a wide, devilish grin that made Ichigo's toes curl, "Oh? When'd ya grow a pair a'nuts?" he asked, his deep, gruff voice seemingly shaking the concrete.

Ichigo had to forcefully steer his gaze from Grimmjow's flexing pectorals and abdomen, inwardly scolding himself as he did so, "Get lost, loser," he grumbled and turned his back on the larger man, who was emitting powerful waves of testosterone and dominance.

His point was proven when Grimmjow's stunning blue eyes narrowed and darkened before Ichigo was suddenly shoved against a stone wall running the length of the block and fencing in the neighborhood park, "I know ya don' like me an' frankly, I don' give a shit. Never have an' I'm pretty sure I never will. Don' mean ya c'n talk ta me anyway ya wanna," he growled, his aura menacing and frightening.

Ichigo blinked up at him, the mood lost when he caught a whiff of Irish Spring soap. Hard to be afraid of someone that smelled that good. "What the fuck d'you want? We go through this all the time and you never give me a reason for why you keep bugging me," he stated, annoyed.

Grimmjow arched a brow and stepped back, releasing his hold on the front of Ichigo's shirt, a wolfish grin creasing the bottom half of his face, "I dunno. I guess I just like fuckin' witcha, since yer a lotta fun to rile up."

Grimmjow's rumbling baritone was doing wicked things to Ichigo's insides and being this close to the man was terrible for his composure. "Why don't we try something new next time?" he suggested, a friendly smile throwing the blue-haired man off.

A slight frown appeared between Grimmjow's perfect blue brows as he asked, "What's that?"

Ichigo dropped the grin and yelled at the top of his lungs, "LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"

With that, he whirled on his heel and continued down the street, Grimmjow's laughter echoing behind him, "No deal, Berry-chan," the man called out and Ichigo glanced over his shoulder to see Grimmjow watching him walk away, his eyes holding a hungry leer.

Ichigo scowled and turned away, his heart hammering in his chest. What the hell had been with that look? He shook his head as if to clear it of its distracting thoughts and made his way to his apartment, body already yearning for his air conditioner.

Um, this was supposed to be a oneshot, buuuut, I had a few ideas that I wanna run with as far as a firefighter Grimmjow goes. So this is sort of the prologue/introduction? Whatever...LoL. Are you excited for this? Lemme know!