I can't believe this is happening to me. Me, Grimmjow Jeaggerjaques, of all people in the wide fucking world. I've fucking died and gone to heaven, even if that's impossible after the shit I've done.
Me, Grimmjow Jeaggerjaques, of all people in the wide fucking world.
I've fucking died and gone to heaven, even if that's impossible after the shit I've done.
It could've been anyone sitting in the room that day. It could've been that whiny bitch Kiego, or that stuck-up prick Ishida. But the teacher decided to be a lazy-ass and make us draw names out of a basket and it just happened to be my lucky day. I'd never been so giddy over a week-long project my entire life.
Ishida was glaring at me through narrowed eyes and Nnoitra snickered through a fistbump.
"Get some..." he encouraged without modesty. I grinned triumphantly; I'd sure as hell try. Inoue might be innocent and modest, but she's also clueless enough that you can trick her into punching herself in the face.
Personally, I was thinking something more along the lines of getting a hold of those, huge, voluptuous, bouncing, positively squeezable-
"H-hi Grimmjow-kun..." I hear her docile voice squeak.
And there they were, presented to me in all their shining glory, my desk suddenly standing in as their silver platter before I could say 'Hi girls!'.
If Inoue had a huge mole on her face, 98% of the male population wouldn't ever know it. Forget the fags. I was okay with being the majority in this instance.
"Hey Inoue," I mumbled through my grin, hiding my teeth in an effort not to freak her out any more than she already was; she was practically trembling in fear just sitting across from me, and I wasn't going to get anywhere with her if she was scared shitless. Not that I didn't love a little brain fuck, but she wasn't that type; her mind was too ridiculously fragile.
Her tits might be the only part of her that was fun to play with, but they were enough for me to get in a solid attempt.
"G-Grimmjow-kun?" she stuttered, yanking me out of la-la land.
"Hmm?" I hummed, looking at her face for the first time that day.
"Your house or mine?" she was staring at her lap while she spoke, blushing like a ridiculous tomato. Even the tops of her ears were a comical scarlet.
Like a blinking target.
"Yours," I didn't skip a beat.
An hour later I was walking home with her, listening to her apologize about the distance.
"-and I'm really sorry, but I've got to pick up some things for dinner," a pause. "You are eating with us tonight, aren't you?" she tacked on the end.
"Can I? Thanks Inoue," I replied in a bland (sorry, polite) voice, hiding my real self as best as I could.
"Mhmm!" she squeaked, obviously relaxing a bit at the mention of food.
She rushed through the store and I had to power-walk to keep up with her as she hurried home, watching her fret as we got closer and closer. I tried to keep my eyes forward, but her stupid fun bags kept dancing with her every step, and I tripped (more than once) on my own feet.
"Inoue?" I asked after the fourth time I almost fell on my ass, "What's the fuc- What's the rush? We have all week."
She sent me a sidelong glance, as if summing me up.
"Oniichan gets mad when I'm late," she said simply.
"Oniichan?" I said so quietly it was almost a thought. I hadn't known Inoue had a brother. "How old is he?"
"Oh, he's our age," she chirped, opening the door to the apartment and standing aside to let me in first.
I almost groaned as I stepped in the entrance. She had those rugs. Those Goddamned expensive-ass ancient mats that make you scared to eat or drink anything or even walk on them. I hate the feeling of them under my feet, but Inoue wasn't going to figure it out. No, I was going to act like the good little Japanese boy I had never been and keep my mouth shut.
I slipped my shoes off as she did, internally wincing as she skipped off to the kitchen, leaving me alone. An irritated sigh or two and I was slumping against the starched couch, waiting. This was going to take a while and possibly some patience that I didn't have, but I convinced myself it was worth it. It was, right?
"I brought us some tea," she smiled, holding a tray up for me to see. "we can go up to my room to start the project-" she began.
Suddenly I was sitting up, nodding enthusiastically and very much liking this turn of events, when the front door opened again.
"Inoue, I'm home. Sorry I'm late, I got caught up with-" he paused, coat hanging halfway off his arms, and glared. He had the most menacing eyes I'd ever seen, and they were delicious; a perfect shade of honey and almond morphed into such an awful, piercing stare at the sight of me.
Inoue quickly set her tray on the table and helped him out of his coat, but his fire-filled scowl never left me. I suddenly felt a grin splitting my face.
"Oniichan, this is Grimmjow-kun. We're doing a project together for science class." she trilled.
He wouldn't look at her, and something about the way he held his jaw told me he knew exactly what I was there for.
"Ichigo Kurosaki," he muttered for her sake, holding out a hand. I took it gladly. His hot skin sent a thrill through my body, and his eyebrows rose minutely before he quickly pulled his arm away.
"We were just going upstairs," she offered, beginning to pick up the tea again.
"No, Inoue. Stay down here for today." he said firmly enough that she didn't object.
Oh, fuck you Kurosaki.
He was obviously mocking me now, and I began to lose my already short-fused patience.
"So, Strawberry, any particular reason you're named after a fruit?"
Any mild humor that had been present in his expression before instantly vanished, and the Berry didn't even bother to answer me before he stomped into the kitchen. I watched Inoue flinch at the sound of breaking glass, and the grin was there again, almost painful in its monstrosity.
"So, the project," she changed the subject gracefully, only to be interrupted by the crashing of metal against tile. I resisted the urge to burst out laughing, and instead calmly stood and strutted toward the kitchen.
She starts to protest, but I turn and give her my most charming, non-freaky smile. I'm damn sexy when I want to be; I'm man enough to admit it.
"I'll just be a minute, get everything set up."
Her wide brown eyes look like a pile of reeking shit compared to his, I noticed. Isn't it strange how quickly one's opinions can change?
I find him standing there in the kitchen, mulling over the pieces of broken dishware, face tinged with a pink like I'd never seen. And God, that hair; like creamsickles on fire. I wanted to lick the Berry like a creamsickle and I'd only known him five minutes.
"Hissy fit?" I ask conversationally, leaning against a cabinet and smiling like a devil.
"Fuck you," he hissed, to low for Inoue to hear.
I would've stalked right over there and shown him why you should be careful what you wish for, but I didn't feel like playing Bruce Willis that day. I'd heard walking on broken glass with bare feet doesn't feel too good.
"Mmm, right now? I hadn't pegged you as the easy type, Kurosaki." matching his volume, letting my voice get husky a bit as I did.
"G-get out!" He pointed to the door behind me with so much force he almost stumbled and fell face first on the shards of pointy death before catching himself on the counter edge beside him.
"Then who will save you, princess?"
The evident incredulous rage that was absolutely dripping off the Berry's expression was enough proof for me.
No one had ever treated him this way.
And he had absolutely no idea what to do with it.
Behind that locked jaw, those furious eyes, that defensive stance, all I saw was a cornered animal.
And who was I to turn down a tasty meal?
I bit my lip against my growing sneer, and I swear to God he shivered. Much to my dismay, it wasn't from pent-up sexual desire.
And then he did it. I knew it was just to prove a point, just testosterone and adrenaline ruling out logic for a moment so he could prove his manly worth, but that didn't stop my jaw from hitting the floor when he tromped across the barbed glass in his socks and paused, inches from my face.
His eyes were glorious, flecked with a gold that reminded me of the sparkling dust that comes off of a fresh-picked grapefruit, and they were on fire, smoldering with a heat that shouldn't be possible for any human to muster.
"I know what you're up to you sick son of a bitch, and if you lay one finger on my sister, I will personally rip your balls off and feed them to my neighbor's doberman. Do we have an understanding?"
He was close enough that I could feel the warmth of his whisper across the bridge of my nose, and I was so lost in his face that I nearly jumped when his knee bent minutely and brushed against the inside of my thigh.
Oh God I was hard.
He was too close to notice it and so close that he almost did; I felt like hyperventilating, but instead I didn't breathe at all.
"Don't worry about it," I grit out, attempting to hide my condition. "I'm not interested in Inoue." Anymore, I added silently.
Even after I spoke, I couldn't breathe right. All I knew was that my chest was so tight, and he was still so close, and my stomach felt hot. Really hot. Like someone had poured boiling water down my throat and I couldn't even focus on the pain properly because he was still there, glaring at me, fuming like a destroying angel.
And suddenly he leans forward and I see his perfect mouth open and I'm thinking, Oh, God, he's going to kiss me, but then I remember he isn't some horny, bisexual freak like me and he's spitting out an insult I can't hear through the ringing in my ears and then he's walking out of the kitchen, leaving me there with my fucked-up mind.
I planted a hand on the counter beside me and leaned hard. Air was finally coming and going; I was swallowing huge gulps of it again and again.
What the fuck was that?
"Shit," I hissed, scrubbing a hand over my face and trying to calm the fuck down.
And, right on time, Inoue bursts in the kitchen, panicking about something or other, waving her arms in distress. Blood? I didn't remember any violence. But she points to the floor, her high-pitched keening not registering as words in my head, and I see his bloody footprints, like a corny mystery movie, leading to the cause of all the emotional upset.
And I was afraid I would spill my tea on their fancy-ass tatami mats.
Oooh, Grimmy's got it bad, ne?
-giggles at his emotional awkwardness-
Review so I don't bash my skull in, yeah? :D