Note: Smut makes up the latter half of this chapter, if it's not your thing then avert your eyes.
It's All Greek to Me
In Which There is a Sex God
I have never with these eyes seen anything like you.
It all started in late August, the twenty-eighth to be exact. One week before the start of the fall semester at Karakura University to be even more exact. Now, if this were your typical romance story, this paragraph would go onto explain how the day was absolutely perfect , sun shining, birds chirping, and not a cloud in the sky. Something like that, right?
Well, that day for Ichigo Kurosaki had been far, far from perfect and what's funny is that the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and there were indeed no clouds in the sky.
Again, if this were your typical romance story, and the day had not been perfect, then it would have been positively awful, right? Ichigo would have gone through all the regular trials and tribulations of being a sophomore university student. But, again, that wasn't the case, though he had stubbed his toe on the way to make coffee that morning...
Yes, Ichigo Kurosaki had a completely, positively, and absolutely typical, average, and undeniably boring day. It just couldn't get any more mundane, like people with OCD were probably jealous of how his day had stuck so completely to routine. Anyway, you get it, right?
Well this was all true up until Ichigo walked back into his apartment at precisely 5:48 p.m, just like he did everyday, because it took him eighteen minutes to walk home from his job as a server at an American-retro-style diner after he got off of his shift at five-thirty.
Now it wasn't that Ichigo was exactly againstsurprises. In fact, he was one of the few people that actually enjoyed them, but, you see, the past summer had passed by at a pace that was so totally comatose, meaning a great lack of surprises, that he was completely unprepared for what awaited him when he opened the door to his apartment.
He wondered if there was some kind of protocol that one should follow when faced with this kind of situation, being his two male and very straight roommates standing in the living room, in their boxer shorts and tight white briefs respectively, and wrapping each other in their bedsheets.
But since he didn't know that protocol, Ichigo settled for letting his keys slide from his hand and drop onto the tile with a loud clang.
Renji and Shuuhei both looked up from where the former had been adjusting the white sheet on the latter's shoulder but they almost immediately went back to what they were doing upon seeing their roommate looking at them in complete and utter confusion.
"Hey Ichigo," Shuuhei muttered half-heartedly. "No, it looked better before," he said to the redhead who had hiked up the sheet too far up on his shoulder, tugging it down so that it...looked better?
"Uh, hey..." Ichigo trailed off, scooping his keys off of the tiled floor and moving to the left to walk into the small kitchen in their apartment. He set his customary bag of complementary french fries from the diner onto the counter, slightly shaking his head before ripping the brown paper bag open and stuffing several of them into his mouth. Don't judge him though, he was hungryafter being on his feet for several hours watching other people eat food.
"So are you going tonight, Ichigo?" Renji called to him as he tucked the corner of his sheet into the waistband of his boxers.
"Going?" Ichigo rose one orange eyebrow. He didn't go anywhere, he just ate french fries until six o'clock when he turned on the news and then watched prime time TV sitcoms until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer and he finally passed out, either on the couch or, if he had enough strength to walk to it, his bed. "To what?"
Both of his roommates looked up to him with raised brows at that, meeting each other's gazes and then flickering back to him with identical baffled frowns.
"To the Kappa Alpha Lambda house..." Shuuhei said slowly, as if Ichigo were an idiot, which he most certainly was notand so he didn't really appreciate being treated like one.
What the hell was Captain Alpha's Llama House anyway? Some kind of nightclub or something?
Already in a foul mood from being spoken to like he was a simpleton, Ichigo frowned heavily.
"Am I supposed to know what that is?" he asked sarcastically through a mouthful of fries, leaning against the counter. He wondered for a second if there was any orange soda left in the refrigerator even with Renji's unbearable habit of downing the stuff like it was going out of style.
Again, his two roommates looked at each other, something akin to pity in their eyes as Shuuhei sighed heavily, looking like he was about to take on the task of a lifetime. Ichigo mentally rolled his eyes as he bit through another french fry rather viciously.
"It's the biggest fraternity house on KU's campus. They're having a party tonight, like they do before every semester..." Shuuhei trailed off, obviously expecting Ichigo to slap his own forehead in disbelief at his own stupidity, because how could he have forgotten that that was tonight?
"Yeah, doesn't really ring a bell," Ichigo shrugged, chuckling a little bit to himself on the inside. It wasn't that he didn't like Renji and Shuuhei, they were pretty nice guys, a little thick, but nice. And pretty quiet roommates too, which is just about all Ichigo could ever ask for in this world. It was just that he felt as if he and them were just on...divergent paths. They just didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things.
"Oh," Shuuhei raised an eyebrow at that, looking a little put out that Ichigo hadn't face-palmed the hell out of himself. "Well...do you wanna come anyway?" he asked a little unsurely, like he didn't really know if he should be asking the orangette to go to a party. Ichigo couldn't blame him for that, he certainly hadn't made himself out to be a party animal the past two months he had been living in the apartment with the brunette and redhead. And that was simply because he wasn't. In fact, he really didn't like parties, let alone fraternity ones. All of those jello shots and skanky girls flashing their tits and beer pong and party-goers stripping down in the kitchen play slip n' slide with Murphy's Oil on the tile. Okay, well that last one sounded like fun, but the point was that Ichigo just did not go to frat parties.
"Nah, I'm good," he said absentmindedly, turning to the refrigerator and opening it to find that Renji had indeed drank allof the orange soda.
It was now official. The gods hated him.
An hour later, Ichigo's roommates had both left, because they had been invited to help set up for that frat party and he had finally gotten comfortable on the lumpy couch in front of the plasma TV that had been one of the few reasons he had decided to move into the apartment. It was kind of an awkward position, with his legs hanging over the armrest while he propped his head up with his crooked arm.
Then his cell phone rang.
As he struggled to sit up, he mentally cursed at himself for ever thinking that setting his ring to the highest volume was a good idea. Spinning his lower body so that he could sit up straight and reach for his phone on the coffee table, he flipped it open, answering it automatically with a monotone "Yeah?"
"Hello there, Ichigo. Would you like to tell me why you aren't in the photo lab developing film for next week's issue?"
Ichigo shuddered as the deathly calm voice sounded through the the speaker of his phone. It made his blood run cold as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Rukia Kuchiki was undeniably the best school paper editor there was, but she was also undeniably terrifying.
"I, uh, well I..." Ichigo trailed off, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck and reflexively closing his eyes, cringing from what he knew was going to come.
"You know, Ichigo, for once I'm actually grateful for your procrastination," Rukia sighed heavily and Ichigo could just picture her reclining in some office chair somewhere, spinning around to face a giant window with a great big view of the city as she stroked a pet rabbit in her lap and plotted her evil plan to take over the entire city of Karakura, and he had just been roped into it somehow.
"Yes, because Izuru has finally come up with a sufficient article to run in the paper next week, and you're going to shoot the pictures for it, got it?" Rukia's voice was serene, but Ichigo could just hear the sadistic, murderous intent behind it. He can remember the first time he ever heard it, when he first applied to be the one of Karakura University's school paper's photojournalists, and he had nearly shit his pants. The girl might not even clear five feet and probably couldn't ride most of the big kid rides at amusement parks, but she was downright scary.
"Great!" Ichigo squeaked (masculinely, of course) and stood up from his couch, intent on finding his camera, because he couldn't actually remember where he had put it...
"Don't you want to know what it is?" Rukia deadpanned and it was almost like Ichigo could hear her rolling her eyes and resting a hand on her forehead in disappointed disbelief.
"Oh, uh, yeah," he cleared his throat. "I mean, yes," he answered more firmly, walking around the coffee table. He knew his backpack was around there somewhere...
"Well, if you can believe it, Izuru actually came up with something that was acceptable to be published on the front page," she started and Ichigo "mhmm-ed" for her to continue. "Anyway, he came up with the idea to write an article on the devastating effects of fraternity parties. Alcohol-related deaths, date rape, hazing, you know, the works."
Ichigo wrinkled his nose, but didn't say anything as he had a feeling that Rukia wasn't finished yet.
"So I'm sure you've heard that the infamous Kappa Alpha Lambda fraternity is having their annual back-to-school party shindig or whatever, and I need you to go down there and take pictures of all the naughty things they have going on down there, got it?"
Ichigo shot straight up from where he had been bent over in his pile of dirty laundry, which he had been rifling through, trying to find his camera.
"Wait," he blurted out, barely thinking. "You want me to go to that...party? And take pictures?" Almost immediately after those words came out of his mouth, he regretted them and his eyes widened at what he had just done.
Questioning Rukia = a merciless and prolonged gory death that would put any Saw movie to shame.
Another hour later and Ichigo's head was still ringing. If he could have offered up his soul in order to go back in time and take back his words to Rukia, he would. Oh, and he would probably ask if he could also get out of going to this ridiculous...thing, which couldn't be an unreasonable request if he was giving up his soul and going to spend an eternity in the fiery pits of the underworld or whatever.
He was standing on the front lawn of the Kappa Alpha Lambda house, looking totally and completely out of place and twirling the gold ring that had been his mother's around his finger absentmindedly. He would have never guessed that Renji and Shuuhei dressing up in their bedsheets to go to a party was an uncommon thing if he hadn't come here that night, but you learn something new everyday, right?
The KAL house was bigger than most of the mansions in Karakura's upper east side, perfectly white with the blue Greek letters ΚΆΛ (for Kappa Alpha Lambda) hung over the double-door entrance, and what Ichigo thought was a golden apple beneath the letters, but he couldn't really tell since it was already dark outside.
Music was positively blaring from inside the gigantic house, Ichigo could feel the bass underneath his feet and he was standing on the far end of the lawn, which had its fair number of guests as well. He thought he could see a couple intertwined in a tree not too far to his right, making him frown in mild disgust. Honestly, couldn't people at least do that inside? Even if it was someone else's house...
Anyway, back to how Ichigo was totally and completely out of place, besides his lack of makeshift bed sheet clothing, was that he was a) alone, b) holding a rather large film camera in his hands, and c) not holding the infamous red plastic cup that seemed to be a customary staple of these types of get-togethers. You would think that the plastic company didn't make them in any other color, and that's not true because one time when Ichigo had been five he had had a Halloween party in school and they had had black and orange cups, so...yeah.
Barely registering that someone had called his name, he swiveled his head to see a girl about his age (that being nineteen years, one month and thirteen days) with long auburn hair and big eyes like storm clouds. She was dressed, surprisingly, normally just like him, but it looked like she had tried to put a little effort in and had a white sheet wrapped around her upper body, denim covered legs peeking out from under the cloth.
"Oh, hey Orihime," he greeted, smiling a little because he actually was relieved to see at least one person he knew in this entire place.
"Hi," she offered a little awkwardly, shifting a bit from foot to foot as he drummed her fingernails on the cup she was holding.
Orihime Inoue was a nice girl, not really a friend, more like an acquaintance. She had been in his freshman composition class last year and she was a pretty good essay editor if he remembered correctly.
"So, I didn't know you would be here. I didn't think you were the party type," she started, but then her eyes widened and she closed her mouth abruptly before opening it again. "No, I mean that, um, I just don't see...you...at them...a lot?" Orihime grinned sheepishly, brushing a lock of her burnt sienna hair behind her ear.
"It's okay, I'm just here to take pictures," Ichigo answered with a somewhat warm smile, gesturing towards the camera that was hanging off of a strap around his neck.
"Pictures?" she questioned, titling her head to the side.
"Yeah, the school paper's running an article on how fraternity parties are," Ichigo paused. It would probably not be a good idea if anyone here knew that he was here to take some incriminating photos of the party and the people in it. He had seen what those frat boys had done to some of the students around campus, and they supposedly liked them.
Now don't get him wrong, he wasn't a coward and he certainly wasn't afraid of a few egotistical fraternity tools, but he really didn't feel like getting saran-wrapped to a pole in only his underwear that night.
"How they're what?" Orihime pressed, looking genuinely interested. For a second, Ichigo debated just telling her anyway, since he really didn't see her mingling with members of Kappa Alpha Lambda anyway, but just to be on the safe side...
"Oh," Orihime visibly brightened, her storm gray eyes crinkling a little bit as she smiled up at him. "Ulqui will be glad to hear that, he's always saying that people don't really understand KAL! People think that they just party all the time, but that's not true because they have to maintain a 3.0 GPA to even stay in the house," she raised a finger in the air to punctuate before her eyes got impossibly wide and Ichigo could have sworn that a light bulb flickered on over her head. You just couldn't see it because it flickered away almost instantly as she shot forward to grab his wrist.
"You should come and meet him! You can interview him for the article!" she exclaimed, tugging his arm, making Ichigo reluctantly stumble behind her. She dragged him along the lawn, but not to the front doors but around the house, past the garage and to where a very large swimming pool and even more people dressed in bedsheets were loitering around. There were a few people crowded near the deck, which was utterly decked out with multi-colored lights in the shape of chili peppers and a table set up with a seemingly endless supply of stacked cups that were firetruck engine, you guessed it, red.
There was also a keg set up by that table and several young men were huddled around it, two of them holding a girl up upside down as she chugged beer straight from it at an alarmingly fast rate while the men egged her on, chanting her name.
But, Ichigo shouldn't be focusing on that. He should be focusing on stopping the inevitable social disaster that would occur if the girl that was tugging him along introduced him to "Ulqui".
"Uh, Orihime, I don't think that-" but Ichigo never finished that sentence.
Now, let's revisit that whole "this is not a typical romance story" theory. It still isn't, but this is where the storyline dips into the utterly cliche plot point that would be how our hero first sees the wet dream of a boy that is unavoidably going to turn into one of the main characters of this story.
The reason Ichigo first paused was because he heard the distinctive "rrr-ing" noise of an engine, and really why would he hear that in the backyard of a fraternity house? His head snapped to where the sound was coming from and immediately knew. Oh, that's why.
As he turned, he saw the motorcycle's lights flash once and almost everyone in the vicinity cheered loudly. Ichigo didn't even have time to process his many questions at the sight, like why was there a motorcycle in the backyard and why was it flashing its lights and, most importantly, who was on that bike, before the cyclist revved the engine once and then took off, tearing down the lawn at breakneck speed.
Ichigo's eyes followed in stunned amazement as the motorcycle and its rider drove across the grass, leaving a trail of ruined lawn in their wake, and then picked up speed right before hitting what looked to be a rather unstable wooden skateboard ramp. The sleek bike peaked over the edge of the ramp and it was airborne for several long moments, in which Ichigo's jaw dropped, until it finally came down with a great splash into the swimming pool, spraying water everywhere.
For a few seconds everyone was quiet as the water stilled and the quiet purring of an engine was muffled, but then something broke the surface, tanned arms reaching up to pull the helmet off to reveal a head full of robin's egg blue hair and a man grinning triumphantly. Then applause erupted from seemingly everywhere at once, even Orihime let go of Ichigo's arm to clap.
Hordes of people swarmed the swimming pool then, blocking it from Ichigo's view and for a second he was disappointed. He really had wanted to get a closer look at the cyclist who had just pulled that insanely stupid (but undeniably awesome) stunt. He couldn't remember ever seeing someone around campus with that hair color before.
"He's such a show-off," Orihime shook her head, smiling softly, and then turned back to look at Ichigo, whose mouth was still open, in fact it wouldn't be surprising if it was permanently stuck that way, or if his jaw fell off, like that girl in the Grudge. "Oh, right! Ulqui should be over here, somewhere..." she trailed off, grabbing a hold of his arm yet again, pulling him towards the deck.
Wait...there was something Ichigo was in the middle of saying...oh, right, social disaster and all that. Not to mention the possible catastrophe that might happen if anyone from the fraternity found out just exactly what he was doing. But before he could say another word on the matter, Orihime had already led him up the stairs of the deck and was now beckoning towards someone over by the table. It was too late. He was doomed. He would be saran-wrapped to a pole in his underwear and then Rukia was going to kill him for not getting the pictures and then she would put his corpse back on the pole for everyone to point and laugh at.
"Orihime, who is this?" a cold, monotone voice cut through his thoughts like a razor blade. Ichigo blinked for a few seconds, because surely this couldn't be the "Ulqui" he had heard Orihime rave about so many times. The Ulqui that was "so nice and sweet" and was the Student President of Kappa Alpha Lambda and the Karakura University Chapter of the National Honor Society.
The youth who stood before him was about his height, with dark, shaggy hair that fell to his shoulders. His skin was so pale it was positively glowing under the fluorescent lights coming from the house and the string chili pepper lights and he had large, vacant eyes that were emerald in color. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and one of those sweater vest that were supposedly "in" at the moment, so he was also bed sheet-less.
It also didn't escape Ichigo's notice that those green eyes were trained on where Orihime was still holding onto his arm and he really, really wished she would let go. Or that "Ulqui" would know that he, Ichigo Kurosaki, was one hundred and ten percent completely and totally gay. Yep, no tits or pussy for him, so you know...he wasn't trying to steal the guy's girlfriend or whatever. But that's not the kind of stuff you just blurt out when you've just met someone, so he kept his mouth shut.
"Oh, this is Ichigo. He's writing an article for the school paper about this party," Orihime let Ichigo's arm drop back to his side and sidled over to stand beside the dark-haired man.
"Is that so?" he rose an eye brow, but then stuck out his hand "Ulquiorra Cifer." Ichigo must have stared at the pale hand for several seconds before giving a slight shake of his head and grasping it in his own, pumping it up and down.
What kind of college student shakes other people's hands?
"Ichigo Kurosaki," he said in the same firm tone as the other man did. You know the one, the "I'm a man and I'm going to greet you in my manly man way and squeeze the life out of your hand until you beg for mercy" tone.
They both released each other's hands at the same time and Orihime beamed up at Ulquiorra like she was proud of him for some reason.
"May I ask what this article Orihime spoke of is exactly about?" he questioned.
"Well, actually, I don't write, I just-" but before Ichigo could finish telling Ulquiorra that all he did was take pictures to accompany the article that someone else was writing, he was forcibly shut up by being knocked to the ground by something rather hard.
Landing on the ground with a soft "oof" and smacking his head on the wood flooring of the deck since he had wrapped his hands around his camera to protect it at the last second, because it actually didn't belong to him but to the school, he heard someone swear lowly behind him.
"Ah, shit, sorry kid," a deep voice sounded and Ichigo scowled as he sat up, rubbing his forehead, which was now red and very sore. Slightly shaking his head to get rid of the blurred vision his eyes made out a hand in front of his face, attached to an outstretched arm and...holy shit...
So, this was the cyclist that had jumped his bike into the pool. Who else could have the exact same shade of robin's egg blue hair? And if Ichigo had thought that that was eye-catching, then the rest of him was positively melting his brain.
That unusual hair, still wet from his earlier dip in the pool, framed the face of an angel just like a halo would. Angular jaw, sharp and perfect cheekbones, full, Cupid's bow-shaped lips, and eyes so heartbreakingly blue, Ichigo could have sworn that his heart was now lying on the floor in a million pieces just looking at them. He was a piece of art.
Numbly, Ichigo placed his hand into the one before him, feeling the surprisingly soft, warm and tawny skin underneath his fingertips as the blue-haired male heaved him onto his feet in own swift motion, making the orangette's stomach drop.
Now that he was standing, Ichigo could make out the fact that the other man easily had at least five inches on him, a whole head taller, and with broad shoulders and toned arms that he could see all of considering the soaked white bed-sheet that the blunette was wearing left very little to the imagination. Why did he ever think that wearing bedsheets was a bad thing...?
Of course, now he finally knew why everyone was wearing them and Ichigo was amazed at his own density.
It was a toga party.
Though he didn't mind having to see a half-naked sex god with one on to make him realize that fact.
"Hey, are you okay?" Sex God asked, waving his hand in front of Ichigo's face, whom immediately felt warmth pooling in his cheeks as he realized he had been staring...and still holding the guy's hand.
"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine, just...hit my head a little," he recovered rather lamely, ripping his hand away and using it to lay a palm against his forehead, which was now exceedingly hot since his body temperature was raising at an alarming rate.
"Sorry about that," the blunette grinned, revealing sharper than average, whiter than white teeth. "Let me make it up to you," he asserted, bowing forward a little so Ichigo got the full, hypnotizing effect of his sapphires for his eyes.
"Oh, do you two know each other?" piped an annoying voice from their right and Ichigo immediately turned to glare at the person, but Orihime Inoue was one of the very few people who was impervious to his infamous death glare.
"No," the blue-haired sex god answered simply, his megawatt grin never faltering. Ichigo tried to calm his heart that was faltering at the mere sight of that grin, but it wasn't working and now his head was feeling kind of funny. He had never had such a visceral reaction to any guy before. Okay, well maybe a few in those mangas that he pretended not to read where almost every male was drool-worthy, but never anyone in real life.
"So, what's your name?" Sex God questioned, his voice husky and deep, like something straight from a romance novel. It took Ichigo a few seconds to realize that he was posing the question to him.
"It's Ichigo," he said in what he hoped was a confident way. Confidence was sexy, right? Though Ichigo had no idea why he should even care considering the fact that Sex God was probably straight as an arrow. Cue the sigh of despair...
Yes, he shouldn't care and he should walk away right now and never look back. Fuck the pictures Rukia wanted, he wasn't about to make a fool out of himself drooling over a straight guy.
"Ichigo," Sex God positively purred, Ichigo's name rolling off of his tongue like it was a foreign language,because Ichigo had certainly never heard it pronounced like that before. "Want something to drink?" The way he said it, it sounded more like a statement rather than a question.
"Sure," Ichigo said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. Okay, so screw what he had said earlier about running away and never looking back. No one that beautiful could be completely straight and besides, the way Ichigo's ass looked in his new jeans could very well just make about anyone switch teams, and it's not bragging if it's true.
It was Ulquiorra and even though Ichigo had only just met the guy, he already hated him. However, when he made to turn around, there was suddenly a delightful weight on his shoulders and with a rush of bliss, Ichigo realized that Sex God had just put his arm around him, and he could feel the man's body heat through his thin cotton t-shirt.
"You can talk to him later, Ulquiorra. He's mine for now," Sex God called over his shoulder as he steered Ichigo through the throng of people on the deck and into the kitchen of the house, where he was mildly surprised to see a game of slip n' slide actually happening.
Oh yeah, Ichigo could officially die a happy man.
"So, are you rushing this year?"
Looking up into Sex God's sapphire eyes, he gave the gorgeous man a smirk of his own.
"I'm a sophomore," he stated with a hint of pride, though technically that wouldn't be officially true until the start of next term the next week. One thin blue eyebrow on Sex God's face twitched on his forehead.
"Then how come I've never seen you on campus before?"
Ichigo just shrugged, noticing how those bluer than blue eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement. Oh yeah, playing coy and confident was definitely the way to go. Usually Ichigo didn't really make much of an effort when it came to guys he thought were attractive, mostly because he didn't want to make a fool out of himself, but then again he didn't have too much experience in that field anyway.
They soon passed the slip n' sliders and reached the counter of the kitchen where the customary Pabst cooler was set up beside the refrigerator. Sex God took his arm off of Ichigo and reached into it to retrieve a blue and white PBR beer can and offered it to the orangette silently.
"Oh, I don't drink alcohol," Ichigo said quietly, feeling like a total loser. Seriously, just slap a huge red "L" on his forehead right there and be done with it.
"Oh yeah?" Sex God asked and Ichigo felt himself flush and mentally willed for the red tinge that he knew was apparent on his face to go away. "Well you're lucky then, we usually don't give this out at parties," he smiled, a full, real one and its devastating effects were not lost on Ichigo. "But for you, I'll make an exception."
"Hmm...so I'm special then?" Ichigo leaned on the counter beside the cooler and hoped he looked indifferently casual.
"You bet," Sex God's voice dropped an octave and then he winked before opening the refrigerator door. Now usually when people winked, it came off as cheesy or pervy, but not when the Sex God did it...not at all.
"Then I'm wondering what makes me so special," Ichigo pondered aloud in a thoughtful, playful tone. He watched as the blunette reappeared from behind the refrigerator door, holding an amber tinted wine bottle in his left hand as he closed the door with his right.
"Well, let's just say that you're a..." Sex God paused for a second, taking two red plastic cups from a stack of them on the kitchen island and setting them right side up. Then he uncorked the amber wine bottle, which now Ichigo knew surely didn't hold any wine, because the liquid that the fine male specimen across from him poured into the cups was a sparkling gold. Seriously, it glinted almost like pure gold as the overhead light caught it at just the right angle and Ichigo was getting thirsty just looking at it.
"That I'm a what?"
Sex God handed over one of the plastic cups and Ichigo could smell the drink's intoxicatingly sweet scent before he raised it to his lips. The blunette did the same.
"That you, Ichigo, are a rare find."
As they both took a long sip from their cups and Ichigo found himself staring into eternally blue eyes, he found himself thinking that Mr. Sex God was definitely not completely straight.
Remember how it has been stated this is not your typical romance story? If you don't, then you probably haven't been paying much attention, but no matter, because the only part that you really need to know that is now.
You see, usually in romantic stories, a boy woos the object of his affection for weeks, months, even years, earning their trust and love. They probably stare deep into each other's eyes and confess their feelings for hours before finally taking the next step in their relationship and making passionate love, and of course everything goes perfectly.
Now, you cannot make passionate love to someone you met not even an hour ago, you fuck them. And nothing is guaranteed.
Ichigo still is not exactly sure how it all happened, but one moment he realized he had finished his drink and then he had met Sex God's eyes from across the kitchen and...well, something happened. It went unspoken and yet it seemed to be understood immediately by the both of them, as they nearly devoured each other with hungry eyes. Ichigo could swear that static electricity flowed between them as the Sex God stalked over to him, powerful, graceful, predatory and whispered in his ear "My room" and took his hand in his slightly bigger one.
He wasn't really sure what he was doing as he let Sex God lead him from the kitchen and through the hall and up a flight of stairs, but he was sure that he didn't really care.
Ichigo wanted that blue-haired sex god, needed him so badly that he felt like he might burst out of his skin with desire, and no, he was not being dramatic, thank you very much.
No one paid them much mind as they stormed through the crowds of people dressed up in bed-sheet togas (none of them having the body to pull it off like Sex God, though) and Ichigo briefly recognized that if the man that was now leading him to his room in the house, then that must mean that was a member of Kappa Alpha Lambda.
Sex God threw open the third door on the left and nearly threw Ichigo in there too, slamming the door shut behind them. The music could still be heard through the door and the muffled voices of the people downstairs, but suddenly it was like no one else in the world existed to Ichigo except for the man before him. Yeah, cliche...but true.
Ichigo backed up against the door and Sex God smirked, his eyes nearly glowing in the dark of the room, the only light coming from the crack underneath the door. He placed his hands on either side of Ichigo's head and the orangette felt his poor heart stutter and falter as those phosphorescent eyes locked on his. He felt trapped, but in a deliciously good way.
Heat blossomed all over his skin as Sex God slowly crept in closer, his scent of something minty and undeniably masculine washing over Ichigo like a sensual wave. He should have felt tense that practically a stranger was so close to him, but instead it felt like all of his bones had been replaced with jelly. And then...
And then Sex God's perfect, Cupid's bow shaped lips met his in a rough, demanding kiss. It was all passion, no affection to speak of, and it was amazing. Ichigo moaned a little in the back of his throat as those lips slid over his and the hands that had been beside his head dropped down capture his hips, fingers hooking into the belt loops of his jeans. Seriously, best kiss ever.
Ichigo could taste the sweet drink still on Sex God's tongue as it claimed his mouth, that pink muscle making its way into his moist cavern, mapping every bit of his own tongue and teeth. The taste only made him want more, much more.
Hands slipped under his t-shirt and Ichigo shivered involuntarily as heated skin came into contact with his own. Sex God's hands ghosted across the flat planes of his abdomen, tracing the faint outlines of his muscles. Ichigo's own hands rested on Sex God's upper arms, fingers curling into the firm and taut exposed skin.
Gasping for breath as they both finally pulled away at the same time, a strand of saliva still connected their now swollen lips that was somehow strangely erotic. Ichigo's eyes fluttered open to look straight into forever blue, and a slight smile crossed his face to which Sex God only replied with an even bigger one, his bright, white teeth contrasting with his tanned skin dazzling the orangette into stunned silence.
"Yeah, all mine," he pronounced, sliding one palm even further up Ichigo's skin and wrapping that arm to bring them flush together.
"Really?" Ichigo questioned both sarcastically and breathlessly, making Sex God chuckle and bring that hand that was resting on his lower back to pull at the strap that Ichigo had forgotten was around his neck.
"Yeah, really," he said lowly, pulling the camera off of Ichigo and setting it down on a what was probably dresser to their left that the smaller male had barely noticed. Then Sex God grinned and then leaned in to nuzzle the side of Ichigo's neck, the latter sighing as felt those perfect lips press against his pulse point. It was like he could feel that light touch all the way to his toes.
It briefly hit him that he didn't even know the blunette's name, let alone anything about him, but Ichigo forgot all about that as those lips that had been on his neck returned to his own. It felt like he could spend forever kissing the man in front of him and it would never be enough.
Ichigo could feel himself be turned around and being led somewhere, but he was far too busy thinking about how talented Sex God was with his tongue that he didn't even realize it until the hands that had been previously roaming his upper body lightly pushed him so that he fell back.
With a little startled cry, he landed on his back on something soft. He surmised that it must be the bed, even though he couldn't actually be sure since it was so dark in the room. As he heard the quiet, amused laughter of his companion, he scowled heavily, but it seemed that either the other ignored it or just didn't see it because the next second, a delicious weight had settled on top of Ichigo, pinning him to the bed.
He brought his hands up to tangle themselves in soft, robin's egg blue hair and he heard a pleased groan come from Sex God as he tugged on the strands a little bit, amused at the blunette's reaction. Above him, Ichigo could see when Sex God's eyes opened and he nearly lost all of his breath in that moment. He knows he's gone on and on about the man's eyes, but...he had never seen their equal in all his nineteen years of living.
His head was positively swimming as their lips met again, soft this time. Gentle, even, and Ichigo traced his way from the blue hair to the sharp cheekbones as he ran his thumbs across them.
Sex God's grasped the hem of Ichigo's shirt and yanked it up forcefully, exposing the orangette's chest to the balmy air of the dark room. His lips left Ichigo's, stealing a little of his breath with him, and trailed a line of barely there kisses from the side of Ichigo's mouth to his sensitive jawline to his neck and then finally onto his collarbone and even beyond there.
Ichigo let out a soft "oh" and let his head fall back to rest against the bed as Sex God's breath fanned against his right nipple and then a strangled moan as a large thumb and forefinger plucked the already taut, sensitive bud. It should've hurt, but it didn't, it felt incredibly good.
And then the fingers were gone and then Sex God's hot breath was there again, and then his tongue, laving at Ichigo's now tender dusky skin. Heat was pooling in Ichigo's groin and slight sweet ache had started in the base of his spine and the pit of his stomach. He was surprised he hadn't already burst out of his pants already with how hard he was.
But now Ichigo was absolutely furious that he was the only one exposed, so he grabbed the side's of the blue-haired man's head forcefully and yanked up, even though he really didn't want to.
"You too," he managed to get out through his incredibly dry throat and he thought he saw Sex God nod and then Ichigo's hands were positively ripping that ridiculous bed-sheet get-up to shreds, revealing a broad chest that he could manage to see even in the dark room and he had to hold back from groaning at just the sight of that delicious, bronzed skin. The guy really did have the body of a god.
He didn't even hesitate before practically attacking Sex God, pressing his lips to the heated, tanned flesh. Now, don't get Ichigo wrong, he definitely goes after what he likes, he's not shy, he's not a simpering little uke. But he's not a whore either, in fact he's a virgin.
Of course, though, if things kept going as they were, that might change soon. It was about time he lost it anyway.
He trailed further and further down Sex God's chest and abdomen, kneeling between his legs and even going so far as to dip his pink tongue into the innie, kind of cute bellybutton that was right above what he believed was called "the happy trail". And Ichigo was pleased to report that, from the looks of it, that beautiful blue hair was all natural.
Smiling a little to himself, Ichigo lowered his hands from where they had been gripping Sex God's waist and dipped them into the waistband of the dark blue boxer shorts that had been the only thing underneath that bed-sheet toga. A sharp intake of breath from somewhere above his head gave Ichigo the courage to go on, and he slowly, every so slowly, pulled that dark blue cloth down to reveal an already full erect and wet erection that bobbed to meet his surprised face.
He didn't know if he could fit all of that into his mouth.
Looking up to meet dark blue eyes that had simultaneously darkened and brightened with lust, a long tongue peeking out of that sinful mouth to lick those Cupid's bow lips. Sex God raised a brow as if to say "well?"
The blunette's cock was long and thick, nestle in a patch of thick, curly blue hair. If someone's dick could be beautiful, Ichigo would say that was this one right here that was.
Taking one hand off of one of Sex God's legs and tentatively wrapping it around the base of the erection, he was pleased to hear a breathy groan from above him. Slowly, he started to move his hand up and down, his thumb running over the head. It was like steel wrapped in hot satin and eventually when there was enough pre-come spilling from the slit to drip onto the bed beneath them, Ichigo stuck out his tongue and gave it one long lick.
He heard Sex God inhale sharply through his nose and Ichigo had to fight off a smile as he wrapped his mouth over the head of the generously sized cock before him.
The taste was undoubtedly surprising, not because Ichigo had never tasted another man before, because he had, but they had all tasted like salty skin, not bad, but not good either. But Sex God...he tasted good. Ichigo thought it must be a combination of his level of attractiveness and his own imagination, because he could almost swear that Sex God tasted like the drinks they had had earlier, the golden juice that had been better than any tea or juice or even orange soda he had ever had in his young life.
"Ah, fuck," Sex God breathed out above him and Ichigo took that as a sign to take him in even further. Relaxing his throat muscles like he had trained himself to do with his first boyfriend, Ichigo slipped even more of that hard and yet satiny cock into his mouth. "You're fucking good at this."
That made Ichigo chuckle and the vibrations from his throat and that earned him more pleased, breathless moans from the blunette before him. Ah, god, how he loved those sounds.
Bobbing his head up and down, Ichigo sucked, carnal slurping sounds filling the room. Sex God's hands fisted into his shoulder length orange hair, gently and yet somehow forcefully guiding his head up and down on his dick. Ichigo moaned as he slid his free hand down his front and into his boxers, gripping himself because his own erection had become intolerable at this point.
The hands in his hair became even more insistent, forcing his mouth even further down, until Ichigo's nose was buried in blue curls. However, he hadn't been prepared for that and his gag reflex kicked in, and then that started off a chain of events that shall only be repeated once due to their mortifying nature.
Ichigo reared back just as Sex God let out his loudest moaned curse yet and he had just slipped his mouth off of the enormous cock he had been sucking off when Sex God came, shooting white, pearly liquid right onto the orangette's face. Now normally, this wouldn't be a problem, because Ichigo doesn't really mind people as beautiful as Sex God coming on his face, but you see, the thing was there was a lot of come and most of it ended up in Ichigo's right eye.
"Ah, shit!" he cried out, sitting back on his haunches and letting go of both his and the other man's dicks to wipe at his face, rubbing at his eye, which turned out be the worst thing possible to do, because the white stuff just started to sting even worse as it was rubbed into Ichigo's cornea.
"What? What's wrong?" came Sex God's concerned, yet dazed, post-orgasm voice. Ichigo just shook his head, his eyes now watering as he took his shirt that he was still wearing and wiped at his face desperately with it.
"You got it in my eye!" he exclaimed, knowing he was being a little harsh considering it was most likely an accident, but that shit stings.
"Oh, fuck! Sorry, I-" through his one good eye, Ichigo could see Sex God sitting up and reaching out to him, which would've been endearing any other time.
"No, it's fine!" he insisted, backing away on the bed from the other male. "It's fine," he said more calmly, feeling a little guilty for yelling. "I'm just...I'm just going to go home now."
"I'm tired," Ichigo replied lamely, getting off of the bed and letting his shirt fall back to its proper place. He looked back at Sex God, sitting still exposed and still beautiful on the bed, an unreadable look in his sapphire eyes. "Uh, bye," the orangette said half-heartedly, feeling embarrassment well up in his chest, a.k.a. the worst feeling in the entire world.
But Ichigo was already fumbling with the door, slipping outside into the hallway, his right eye still closed and still stinging.
Gods, he was such an idiot, giving a blow job to a guy whose name he doesn't know and will probably never know because the guy think he's a loser for freaking out over getting a little semen in his eye like it was the fucking end of the world or something.
It was official for the second time that night. The gods hated him.
Love and dignity cannot share the same abode.
"I cannot believe you gave him the ambrosia. You are as reckless as ever, little brother," Ulquiorra sighed uncharacteristically, placing a hand over his forehead.
"Please, like you haven't done some serious risk-taking, older brother."
"I don't know what you are referring to," Ulquiorra said, even though he knew fully well what his younger, blue-haired brother was talking about. It had only been one of the defining moments of his life. "Getting back to the issue at hand, are you even sure that it's him, Grimmjow?"
The blunette turned to him and grinned, his teeth sharp and white.
"Oh yeah, it's him alright," he said, turning back to his brother with small smile on his face, twirling a small golden ring in his fingers. "I think it's time to give our dear old mother a call."
A/N: Okay, officially the longest chapter I've ever written! Alright, I know this idea has been done to death, but perhaps it can be salvaged by the descriptions of Grimmjow in a toga? Maybe?
I also think the fact that I started this story officially states that I have no self-control, though I did fight off plenty of plot bunnies, this one was just wouldn't leave me alone! One of my favorite Disney movies of all time when I was little was Hercules, and I got really into Greek mythology when I was a little bit older than that, so when I was watching Animal House the other day and this idea crept into my mind, I just had to write it!
Oh andI started posting updates over on my deviantart, so you can go "watch" me over there if you wish. : D
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.
Quotes belong to Homer and Ovid.
Note: I took the Greek letters for Kappa Alpha Lambda from the Greek phrase "καλλίστῃ" or "Kallístēi" which can be translated to mean "for the prettiest one" or "to the most beautiful." However, it has come to my attention that this name has already been claimed by another Greek Letter Society for professional Lesbian women. Oops.