Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...
"When is it?"
"That's tragic," Shiro said quietly as he sipped a strawberry-banana milkshake with a long straw. "Do they know who did it?"
"'Course we do," Shinji grumbled, rolling onto his side and facing Shiro. "But it ain't about that, come tomorrow. Grimm jus' wants 'im ta rest in peace, ya know?"
The albino nodded and studied his light-green comforter. After Shinji had burst into the apartment the other day, looking like death warmed over and feeling even worse, Shiro had learned of the unfortunate deaths of two of the blond's acquaintances. One being their family leader, the other a teenager that had been firmly tucked beneath Grimmjow's wing. Shiro had heard that the boy had admired the blue-haired gangster so much, he'd even imitated the man's behavior.
"But...that means Grimmjow plans to do something about it afterward, right?" Shiro asked, giving Shinji a sideways glance.
The blond just stared at him, expression remaining indifferent. With a frown, he set his milkshake on the night stand and flopped onto his back, throwing his arms behind his head. That was just another thing to add to the long list of worries heaped onto his plate. His old man had called, asking for him and King to work another weekend, one of his younger sisters was pregnant even though she was only seventeen, and King...well, King was another story altogether. Shiro couldn't really say that his twin had resorted to his old destructiveness, but the orange-haired man sulked. Then, his attitude would turn chipper out of nowhere; it was creepy as hell. Almost like King was bipolar, or had multiple personalities. He could understand why, though.
Grimmjow had officially called their "relationship" quits two days ago, but this time, he didn't just disappear without a word. In a sense, the man had grown up, which was a good thing, but also probably why King pouted and slouched around the apartment one minute, then bounced around like a tennis ball the next. It was slightly disturbing, but like he'd said: perfectly understandable.
"C'mere," Shinji's voice and rough hand interrupted his thoughts.
Shiro turned to his boyfriend with a shark grin, mind already throwing itself into the gutter. He slid into the slim arms he'd gotten so accustomed to and inhaled deeply. He loved the way Shinji smelled fresh from the shower. Whether it was the shower gel he used, or just his natural scent, it made Shiro nearly swoon.
"Didja mean whatcha told me the other night?" he asked, disrupting the silence.
Shinji stilled, hand freezing against Shiro's back. Just as soon as he'd tensed, though, his muscles relaxed and he sighed.
"Ya callin' me a liar?"
"Asshole! Ya know what I meant to-"
His rant was cut short when Shinji chuckled darkly and kissed him. "I'm fuckin' witchu." There was a brief pause before the blond continued. "Yeah, I meant it. Did you?"
"Hell yeah. I ain't a liar, either."
The sheets rustled as his boyfriend made himself comfortable, thin but strong legs draping over his own. Shiro brushed Shinji's blond bang aside and grinned, eyes glued to the honey-brown irises staring down at him.
"Wha's that mean?"
"Don' mean nothin'. Tha's my way a'sayin' 'oh.'" Shinji's lips brushed over his before the man leaned back and locked eyes again. "Now ya gonna shut up so we can fuck, er what?"
Shiro outright laughed. "I love it when yer pushy."
"Yeah, I know."
The office was more dim than usual, but there was no mistaking the imposing figure seated behind the large mahogany desk in front of him. He shifted his weight and tried not to stare too much. The man made him shiver and break out in a cold sweat.
"You've successfully pissed him off. Good job," the man stated.
His voice reminded him of cold hot chocolate. It was meant to be warm, but the lack thereof left a bad taste in the mouth.
He wasn't sure whether he should speak, so he decided to remain silent. The man's eyes were calculating as they roved over his body. He barely suppressed a shudder. Finally, the man held his gaze and gave a distant smile.
"You can have Ginjou's position. If you manage to prove yourself with your next task, I may even promote you again. You won't let me down, will you, Tousen?"
He shook his head, swallowing carefully. "No, Sir."
"Good. Ulquiorra will escort you to your vehicle. I look forward to excellent news by tomorrow evening."
Tousen nodded again before turning to the door and waiting for the short, dark-haired man to open it. Once the guy did, Tousen left the intimidating office and hurried out of the building to his car. His next job was one he'd been waiting on for the longest; it would get him the promotion he desired so much. He glanced over his shoulder at Aizen's right-hand man and smiled.
He couldn't wait.
Grimmjow passed a hand over his face as he stood over the resting place of the man he'd considered a father figure. With the way Starrk had died, it had been impossible to give him a proper funeral and burial, so all the family had gathered earlier that evening to cremate him in his favorite place along the deserted part of the river. It had been emotional and exhausting, and he was just ready to go home and sleep off the pain. However, his body was restless, as was his heart. His mind wouldn't settle down, either. He kept thinking about how angry he was at the death of two more people close to him. Di Roy's funeral was scheduled for tomorrow morning and even though he was skeptical about attending, he knew he would feel even guiltier if he didn't.
It was three hours after Starrk's cremation and memorial ritual and still he couldn't find the energy to leave. He didn't really want to be alone at the moment. Sighing and knowing it was unwise, he reached into his back pocket and withdrew his cell. He bit his bottom lip as he stared at the man's name on his contact list. He'd already told the guy he couldn't see him anymore; it was for his safety, after all. But now he felt the need to be with him.
One last time.
He shook his head and slid the phone back into his pocket. He was hopeless. Pivoting on his heel, he stalked to his Acura, hands shoved into the pockets of his navy-blue hoodie. He jumped inside and started it up, the engine roaring to life. "HYFR" by Drake and Lil Wayne poured from the speakers, bass making the interior feel like it was on the verge of crumbling apart. He peeled away from the river and screeched onto the main road, headed across town. The streets seemed deserted, no one daring to come outside after the massacre the other night. That was probably a wise decision because even though all was calm for now, Grimmjow knew things were about to get even uglier.
He periodically checked the rear-view mirror just to be sure he wasn't being followed, and breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he wasn't. Ten minutes later found him parking in front of a familiar house, the light on the porch shining invitingly. He pressed his lips together, inwardly debating with himself as he shut the engine off. This was all kinds of dangerous and wrong, especially since he'd already agreed not to see the man living inside, but he had nowhere else to go. Shinji had someone to comfort him, someone he could go to when he was hurting, but Grimmjow didn't. Not anymore. Well, not in the technical sense anyway.
He stared at the house a bit more, his heart rate picking up. Should he go inside? Should he see him? He shook his head and decided to let the irrational side of himself have free reign. He snatched the keys from the ignition and swung the door open. Once his feet hit the pavement, his mind was made up for certain. He slowly strolled to the house, up the stairs of the porch and stood before the door. He glared at the doorbell, wishing he had a key instead. If only he'd taken Ichigo's offer... Just as he raised his hand to ring the bell, the door was snatched open.
"I thought that was you."
Grimmjow swallowed his surprise before smiling. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, man. The noise ya make wit' that damned thing is unmistakable."
Shinji wore a smirk as he stood in the doorway, arm braced against the frame. Grimmjow smirked back and shook his head.
"Yeah, well...I got somethin' ta do."
"Dontcha mean someone?"
"Move, stupid. Is he here?"
"Yeah, he's here. He might be sleep, though. He's been callin' it a night early the last couple days."
"C'mon, it's cold out here and I wanna get back in bed," Shinji said with a sly wink.
Grimmjow nodded and followed his blond best friend up the stairs after shutting the front door. They moved quietly until they reached the living room, where Shinji closed the door and gave him a two-fingered salute before heading towards the bedroom he shared with Ichigo's twin brother. After the guy disappeared behind that door, Grimmjow took a deep breath and looked at the closed one of Ichigo's room. So, the orange-haired man had been going to bed early, then? Well, at least he was getting rest. Grimmjow, on the other hand, hadn't been able to sleep for the past two days. There had been too much going on, for one thing, and he'd been way too restless, for another.
He forced his feet to move until he was standing in front of Ichigo's room door. Should he knock? But what if the guy was sleeping? He didn't want to wake him up. Then again, wasn't that what he'd come there for in the first place? Running a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time that night, he blew out an exasperated breath. Man up, G.
He twisted the doorknob and cautiously cracked open the door. He peered inside, noting the dimness. The only light came from the bright green display on Ichigo's stereo, casting the eerie glow over the bed, walls and carpet. His heart seemed to shudder to a stop as he took in the sight before him. Once his eyes adjusted, they immediately honed in on the figure seated on the side of the bed, orange head hanging. Grimmjow stepped into the room and shut the door behind himself without a sound as he watched Ichigo. What was he doing? He looked closer and noticed Ichigo was holding a tiny slip of paper. If he didn't know any better, he would say the paper resembled the one he'd hastily written a message on a few months ago. He frowned and started to edge forward, but stopped when he heard Ichigo speaking lowly.
"I feel like a girl right now, but it's OK 'cuz no one can see me. This is the only way I can talk to you anyway. I know you said not being around me was for my safety, but...this sucks. I feel pathetic 'cuz I miss you. Heh. It's only been a couple of days since I last saw you, but it feels longer. I wonder what you're doin' right now. I hope you're OK. No, I know you're OK. You told me you'd come back and I trust you to keep your word this time."
Grimmjow winced and grasped the spot over his aching heart. All these years, the life he led had never made him feel so bad. So guilty. So fucking regretful. This time he did move a little closer. He searched his mind for something to say, something to do, but Ichigo's short chuckle made him freeze.
"I remember when it seemed like you didn't even like me, but now...now you say you love me. How crazy is that?"
"Insane," Grimmjow said quietly enough not to scare Ichigo, but loud enough for him to hear.
Ichigo still jumped, eyes the size of discs as they swung around and landed on him. His mouth dropped open as he shot to his feet and clutched the note in his hand.
"What-what are you doin' here?" he asked.
Grimmjow narrowed his eyes in pain. Two days. Only two days had passed, but like Ichigo had stated earlier, it had felt like a lifetime. Hell, he'd missed him.
"I need you," he said.
Ichigo frowned, but dropped the note. It only took a second for the orange-haired man to come to him, arms automatically wrapping around his neck. He grabbed Ichigo's waist and held on tight as their lips urgently connected. It was like an electrical charge the way the kiss affected him. Like everything that had happened was only the prelude to something even more amazing.
"You've never said that to me before," Ichigo said, pulling back slightly, but hands going for the hem of Grimmjow's hoodie.
He was equally busy, hands trying to rid the other man of his form-fitting white tee. "I never wanted to before."
Ichigo groaned softly and pulled Grimmjow's hoodie over his head, tossing it to the side carelessly. Grimmjow did the same with Ichigo's tee before closing the space between their faces and kissing him again, this time deepening it and backing their bodies towards the bed. After a lot of meditative thought, he'd come to the conclusion that he was indeed weak. But only when it came to the man in front of him. Only Ichigo had the power to make him lose sight of all reason, of all logic. He alone could make him go against everything he'd ever stood for.
Ichigo stopped when the backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed, but Grimmjow didn't waste any time. He hurriedly rid himself of the white tee he wore under his hoodie before going for his jeans. The other man had a bit of an advantage, since the only article of clothing he still wore was a loose pair of How The Grinch Stole Christmas boxers. All it took was a quick yank and a few steps to be rid of those. The blue-haired gangster was distracted by the sight of all that skin, making him stop what he was doing just so he could stare. Ichigo grinned, but it didn't have its usual sauciness.
"You OK?" he asked.
"...I'm better now."
How sentimental did he plan to get?
Ichigo's ears turned red as he averted his eyes. "That's not fair."
That made Grimmjow frown, but before he opened his mouth to ask the question that would inevitably ruin the evening, he thought about things. Ichigo was right. This whole situation was unfair to the man, yet, Grimmjow couldn't bring himself to back away. Couldn't bring himself to do what he knew was right. Ichigo's eyes slowly met his again and the look of pain there was devastating. He gritted his teeth and looked away. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to be with the one person that meant the world to him right now, but not if it caused the man to hurt like that.
"Ya want me ta go?" he asked slowly, fearing the orange-haired man's answer.
Warm, syrupy-brown eyes softened. "No. I don' want you to leave, but...I won't be able to let you leave, either."
Grimmjow put his arms around Ichigo and stared down at the shorter man. "Don' think about that right now." He lifted one of the other man's hands and pressed it to his bare chest. "Jus' be here for me. It's selfish, I know, but...like I said: I need you."
Ichigo gave a deep sigh and let his head drop. His voice seemed to come from his feet when he spoke.
Ichigo's head came up and those intense brown eyes locked onto him. "Why do you need me?"
Grimmjow clenched his teeth together and studied the man in front of him. Ichigo was basically asking for what used to be the impossible, and from the look on the man's face, it appeared Ichigo still believed it was impossible. He narrowed his eyes and licked his lips.
"'Cuz you broke through my defenses. You made me feel things I didn't want to feel anymore, didn't think I could feel anymore. You piss me off, but then you make me laugh. You look at me and nothing else exists. I thought it was just sex at first...until I started wanting to be with you just for the company." He felt his throat tightening, so he paused and took a few breaths, hand abruptly plowing through his hair. After a helpless sigh, he went on. "'Cuz...'cuz I don' want anyone else. Even when I thought I did, I really didn't. God, Ichigo, what else ya want me ta say?" He shrugged and frowned. "I love you."
Ichigo hadn't moved an inch since Grimmjow had started speaking. Hell, it looked like he wasn't even breathing. But then his eyes went glassy and he gave a genuine smile.
"Then, here's to one last hoo-rah, yeah?"
Grimmjow let a crooked grin slip through as he let Ichigo's hand go. He went back to getting himself undressed, still holding eye contact with the guy that had so thoroughly demolished all of his walls. It had been a long time since he'd last felt comfortable telling another man that he loved him, but this go round, things were different. He could see it in Ichigo's mesmerizing brown eyes.
Once he was naked, he straightened and pulled Ichigo to him, instantly leaning forward and kissing him. Of all the times they'd had sex, he was sure this time would be much more emotional. There was always something about letting another person in that made moments like this deeper. More intense. The orange-haired man's strength was incredible, not to mention beautiful. He hadn't expected Ichigo to just let things run with the flow, but he had. Grimmjow's hand ran up the middle of the other man's muscular back, gently massaging the shoulder before tightening around the back of his neck. The kiss turned abysmal, neither man trying to dominate, but rather enjoying the intimacy of the action. Ichigo's hands came up around his back too, the slightly roughened palms traveling over his shoulder blades and the muscles between them. Grimmjow sighed. It felt so good having the shorter man touch him this way, especially now when he was perfectly comfortable with it.
All of his senses were heightened as he rubbed his body against the other man's, heart racing. His lips left Ichigo's mouth and traveled down over his jaw, then even lower to his neck, where he paused to place small kisses and gentle licks. The orange-haired man grunted and gave his own sigh, the sounds passionate and arousing. One of Ichigo's hands became wayward, sliding down over the dip where his ass met the small of his back and tightening. Grimmjow smiled into the curve of Ichigo's neck before nipping, warning him not to get too carried away. The man chuckled, husky baritone throaty and lust-filled. There was something else there as well. Warmth.
After getting his fill of the soft column, he straightened and pressed his hands against Ichigo's chest, indicating he wanted him to lay back on the bed. He was anxious to feel more and make Ichigo feel more at the same time. He wanted to hear the other man's moans, sighs and groans: all the little noises that drove him to distraction. Ichigo willingly complied and settled on the bed, knees raised and upper body resting on his hands. Then, as if just remembering, he rolled onto his side and reached towards the night stand. Confused at first, all he did was watch the younger man. Once Ichigo produced a small bottle of lubricant, however, things clicked. Grimmjow leaned over the side of the bed and dug through the pocket of his jeans, searching for the small packet of foil containing the protection they needed. When he turned back, Ichigo's eyes were focused on the bed, brows furrowed. Inwardly panicking, he started to ask what the problem was, when Ichigo spoke up.
"I didn't...I don't...ah...never mind."
"Nothing," Ichigo replied hastily.
"Yer lyin' ta me. Don' do that."
Twisting uneasily, the other man kept his eyes rooted to the comforter. "It's just...I mean...I don't wanna sound like a bad commercial sayin' this."
"Stop stallin'," Grimmjow growled, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
What was Ichigo going on about?
Those deep brown eyes sharpened and narrowed belligerently. "Alright, you ass. I don't want anything between us. Happy now?"
He felt the blood drain from his face before he could cover his reaction. So Ichigo had that kind of nuclear warfare up his sleeve, huh? He took a deep breath and looked away from the man in front of him. This was bad. Yes, he'd already had sex with the guy without protection previously, but that was before Ichigo had gone and fooled around with that idiot Ginjou. Even still, he had his own past to consider. Yero had ruined him for the next man in a sense, and he was only gradually recovering from that incident. How could he explain that to Ichigo, though?
When he lifted his eyes to give his attention to the other man, he noticed Ichigo's gaze was searing into his, challenging him. So he answered it.
"I can't do that, Ichigo."
It was Ichigo's turn to have the color leave his face in a hurry. "What're you tryin' to say?"
"I'm sayin' I can't give you what you want. Not right now, anyway."
The orange-haired man's jaw clenched and twitched with barely restrained anger. "Why?" he gritted. "Is there somethin' you're not tellin' me?"
Eyes widening, Grimmjow froze. He had to hand it to the man; when he got it right, he got it right. But would Ichigo understand his reasons for not wanting to have unprotected sex? Was he ready to take that step and tell him about his shameful past? Tell him why he'd had those walls thrown up around him in the first place? Another glance at Ichigo gave him his answers.
"Yeah...there is, actually."
Ichigo frowned, obviously taken off guard. Then, after a heavy sigh, a smile crept over those handsome features, lighting his eyes and smoothing away the angry creases. It was Grimmjow's turn to scowl. He hadn't been expecting that sort of reaction at all.
"So, tell me. We got a few hours."
So, this was it, then. He took another deep breath and dove right in. If Ichigo wanted to know, he would tell him. Maybe it would take some of the shame he felt away.
"I had a guy before. Years ago."
"Really? Ya don't say."
"Shut up, fuckin' smart ass." Ichigo smiled at him and Grimmjow withered. Why was it so hard to stay mad at the guy? "So, the guy. I, uh, I'd met him a little after I joined the family. We got along good, we did a lotta shit tagether, and I thought he really cared about me, ya know? Guess I was wrong. He was the one guy – before you – that I let in that way. Turns out I was jus' somethin' for him ta brag about to his friends. He didn' really give a fuck about me."
"But you couldn't tell that ahead of time?" Ichigo interrupted, head cocked to the side.
"We were tagether three years. Would you have seen it after that long?"
"I guess not. What happened to make you realize he didn't feel the same way you did?"
The blue-haired gangster felt his eyes narrow and his lips purse as he recalled that time. He remembered perfectly. "Heh. The first sign was little shit. He started stayin' out all hours of the night and not answerin' his phone when I called ta see if he was OK. At first, I thought he just wanted some space, ya know? Then, I got a nasty wake-up call." He paused and swallowed harshly, hands drawing up into fists. "Woke up one mornin', wondering why the fuck I was pissin' razor blades an' itchin' an' shit. Shinji told me ta go check it out. I mean, I already had an idea, but that bitch denial is jus' that: a bitch."
Ichigo hissed and made an "oh shit" face. "Oh man."
"Yeah, but that was jus' the beginning. Got checked out and found that it was gonorrhea. The doctor cured it, of course, but you don' jus' forget shit like that. I went ta confront him. He was s'posed ta be home, but when I got there..." his voice trailed off as he studied the wall across the room. Fury pulsed in his veins along with his heartbeat as he tried to get himself together. After taking a moment to close his eyes and just breathe, he was finally able to calm down enough to go on. "The safe in my room was standin' wide open and there was a note on the dresser. I'll never forget what it said for as long as I live."
"...Well, what did it say?" Ichigo gently pressed.
"I don't need you anymore. I'm taking what I deserve and leaving with Mari. Thanks for the good time."
Ichigo's mouth slowly fell open as he stared. "Are you joking? That's a joke, right? NO one could be that fuckin' heartless."
The look on his face must have convinced Ichigo otherwise because he frowned and shook his head.
"What a fuckin' prick," he muttered.
Grimmjow wanted to nod his agreement, but memories held him hostage. His upper lip curled back in disgust as shame nearly made him drown. Thinking about Aaroniero made him want to beat the shit out of something or someone, while simultaneously making him feel incredibly stupid. He didn't register the rustling of the bed covers until a warm hand ran through his hair. He shook away the unpleasant feelings and gave his full attention to the brown eyes peering down at him. Ichigo had climbed to his knees and scooted over to him.
"You shoulda told me that before. I get it now, though. Whenever you're ready, OK?"
"Heh. What's this? You comforting me now?" he teased. Orange brows drew together into a scowl, but before Ichigo could snap, Grimmjow continued after allowing his expression to relax. "Thank you."
"That's better," the younger man murmured before sliding the hand that was buried in bright blue hair down to the back of Grimmjow's neck.
Ichigo's lips came down to his, brushing across them softly at first before becoming more aggressive and prying them apart. Once the other man's tongue slipped into his mouth, heat fanned over his pelvis and spread up to his stomach. His insides flipped as arousal doused him from head to toe. He lifted a hand and let it glide up Ichigo's strong thigh, then up to his narrow hip where he allowed it to settle and squeeze. He never wanted to let this man go, but life wasn't fair. It wasn't easy and most times it was far from fun. Of course, there was the chance that Ichigo wouldn't want to be bothered with him anymore, especially while they had to be apart, but he hoped that wasn't the case.
Ichigo moaned into the kiss and awakened Grimmjow's inner animal. It had been dormant for some time, but driven by those sounds, it was easily revived. He used the hand on Ichigo's hip to guide the shorter man back down to the bed, where he could take his time – or not – and pillage that perfect body. The smile Ichigo gave him as a result only served to make his libido spike dangerously. He growled under his breath and settled himself on top of the orange-haired man, taking only a moment to lower his head and inhale the titillating scent drifting up to him. It was like an aphrodisiac. Ichigo turned his head and found his lips, kissing him again, but this time more intensely. Brown eyes were closed and orange brows pulled together in a pleasurable scowl. He was completely wanton and Grimmjow loved it. He spread Ichigo's legs, fitting himself between them and grunting quietly when their naked erections rubbed together. It was like someone had started a fire in his groin and spread oil over it just to make it burn brighter. And then Ichigo went and threw a can of hairspray into the flame. His hand crept between their bodies, the slow progress making goosebumps spring up all over his body. Fingers tickled his abdomen and pelvis until they reached the spot where his pubic hair began, making his belly jump. The younger man pulled out of the kiss and locked eyes with him, smirking mischievously. And then his hand dipped even lower and wrapped around his straining length. He sucked in a breath and narrowed his already hooded blue eyes as Ichigo began slowly stroking him. It was like languidly fanning a bonfire. Soon enough, he found his eyes closing completely and head rolling to the side as he thoroughly enjoyed what was happening.
Demanding lips came up and touched his chin before coasting underneath it to his Adam's apple. His own lips parted when Ichigo mouthed the small protrusion. It was an odd sensation, but the erotic implication turned him on. Suddenly, his hips jerked of their own accord, making him realize that Ichigo's hand had picked up speed. Sneaky. Struggling his way out of the haze of arousal surrounding him, he made his own hands busy. He rested his weight on the left and lifted the other man's left knee with his right. Ichigo tried to hide a gasp, but it didn't work. Grimmjow gave a lop-sided smirk and leisurely let the back of his hand travel down Ichigo's raised thigh. The man's legs began trembling as he bit his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut. That didn't last long when Grimmjow let his hand feather lower, coasting alarmingly close to the shorter man's exposed entrance. He cupped one rounded lower cheek before brushing a finger teasingly over the tight pucker. He dipped his head and captured Ichigo's surprised moan with his mouth. He loved messing with the orange head, bringing him to a fever pitch before allowing him to relax, just to do it all over again.
This time, however, he'd dug himself a neat little hole. Ichigo's hand slowed and made him pull out of the kiss in confusion. He hadn't meant to make the man stop. Then he noticed the expression on the other man's face.
"I can play too," he said.
"Well, guess what."
Ichigo grinned up at him, maple eyes half-lidded. "Chicken butt?"
Grimmjow rolled his eyes before placing his mouth right beside Ichigo's ear. "I play harder."
He ground his hips against the orange-haired man's lifted bottom to drive his point home and drew a startled groan. Ichigo's hand briefly tightened around his shaft, but abruptly let go, flying up to cling to his shoulder.
"OK, OK!" he gasped. "I get it."
"What was that?" Grimmjow asked, twisting his hips and grinding again, this time rubbing his erection between the seam of the smaller man's ass.
"Oh man," Ichigo groaned. "You play too much. J-just do it already."
He chortled darkly and nosed the man's cheek. "It ain't that easy, Ichigo," he rumbled, enjoying the way the guy whimpered helplessly.
He chuckled and shook his head in amusement. That was one of the reasons he loved Ichigo. He always knew how to make him laugh, even if he didn't really mean to.
"OK, OK. With sugar on top. All that good shit. Just fuckin' do me already. Shit."
That made him outright laugh and stare down into irritated brown eyes. "Yer retarded, ya know that?"
Ichigo's agitation melted away as he tilted his head and gave a saucy smirk. "Maybe. Does that mean you're gonna fuck me now?"
"Mmm...I guess so," he said begrudgingly.
"What's with that answer? A little excitement would be-"
Grimmjow cut him off by kissing him and covertly reaching for the abandoned bottle of lubricant. Ichigo sighed and allowed Grimmjow to have his way with him, meaning he didn't speak or protest anymore. But it was only a matter of time before the feisty, temperamental red head snapped at him again. Deciding to get around all that, he kept the man distracted with a deep kiss full of tongue and plenty of throaty growls while he deftly covered his fingers with the clear, slick substance. Just as he'd thought, Ichigo pulled out of the kiss and frowned at him.
"What the hell is takin-"
Again, he shut him up, but this time he used a lubricated finger. Ichigo sucked in a quick breath, eyes squeezing shut as he let his head fall back against a pillow.
"Not talkin' now?" Grimmjow asked quietly.
"S-shut up. Mm," the orange-haired man moaned. "You sneaked me."
Another finger nestled inside the man's gripping passage and Ichigo grunted, head turning to the side. This was the part that was hard to deal with. Grimmjow had no patience and waiting for Ichigo to loosen up so he could get into him was like walking on a bed of nails. He was so hard it hurt. Reaching for the condom by his knee, he added another finger, Ichigo's walls hugging all three tight. It was torture. He kept imagining how it felt to have another body part buried in that same spot, this one much more sensitive. While he stroked the other man's insides, he ripped the foil package open, careful to avoid his teeth. He used his lips to pull it out, then cautiously rolled it over his aching arousal, Ichigo's hissing and desperate moans almost making him snarl in frustration. He withdrew his fingers and realized with perfect clarity that he wasn't the only one frustrated. Ichigo sucked his teeth, opened his gorgeous eyes and glared up at him. Before he could speak, Grimmjow lined himself up and surged forward, not very gentle in the least bit. He growled as heat engulfed him.
Oh, hell yeah.
Ichigo gasped loudly, the air obviously knocked completely from his lungs. Grimmjow didn't even wait; he immediately started a grueling pace as he lifted and spread the orange head's legs by the backs of his knees. Ichigo's arms reached over his head, hands clutching the bottom of the headboard as his mouth dropped open. He was so loud, so pornographic, it was delicious. The blue-haired gangster grunted, engrossed in the tight heat massaging his shaft and the way his balls briefly settled in the crack of the smaller man's bottom with each forceful thrust.
Normally, he would speak. Talk hella shit. Right now, he couldn't, though. His mouth was dry as desert air as it hung open and he reminded himself to breathe. Sweat gradually formed along his upper lip and under his arms. Along his lower back and lower abdomen. Along his hairline. God, he was a mess. And then, Ichigo used his hips to aid his thrusts, the movements causing him to sink even deeper.
"Shit," he whispered to himself.
Ichigo licked his lips provocatively before moaning and moving even faster, consequently making Grimmjow's hips speed up to keep pace. Before he knew it, he was letting loose a steady stream of groans and curses, immersed in the loud sound of skin coming together and harsh breathing. He was close. So was Ichigo. His back kept rising from the mattress as his moans grew longer and lower in pitch, not to mention his knuckles were white from gripping the headboard so tightly. Grimmjow let Ichigo's legs go and positioned them over his shoulders after resting his weight on his fists. He leaned over even further and engaged the orange-haired man in a messy kiss.
It was almost too good.
In fact, if Ichigo kept moving that way it would be too good. The younger man's legs tightened around Grimmjow's neck, the action causing a lot more friction between his abdomen and Ichigo's nearly urgent erection. Blowing out a "get it together" breath, he tried to slow down – he wanted it to last longer – but the other man had other plans.
Fire swept across his pelvis and licked his groin. He felt the tell-tale lift of his balls and knew he wasn't going to last much longer. And then, as if Ichigo could sense that very fact, the orange head clenched his insides repetitively as he frantically bucked his hips. That was about it for Grimmjow. He gritted his teeth, trying to suppress a loud roar, but it didn't really work. Instead of the roar he expected, however, he hissed before emitting a harsh cry, bright blue eyes shut in rapture.
Although he was caught up in what felt like the second coming of Christ, he still managed to register Ichigo's orgasm. His inner walls shuddered, his legs clamped down around Grimmjow's neck even more, and he threw his head back, neck straining and mouth wide open, revealing picture perfect teeth. Thin streams of semen reached up towards his abdomen and almost to his chest as he panted and rode the waves of his release. Grimmjow smiled and leaned forward, uncaring of the other man's essence rubbing off on his own abdomen. He kissed the space between bright orange brows and sighed, lowering himself on top of Ichigo.
"Goddamn, I'm tired," he huffed, burying his face into the other man's neck.
"Haha! It was worth it, though."
He turned to meet those brown eyes and nodded shortly. "Yeah, it was."
After that, they didn't really speak. Grimmjow rid himself of the used condom and rolled over beside Ichigo as the man leaned to his left and retrieved a few tissues from the night stand. He meticulously cleaned them both, discarded the tissues, then draped himself over the blue-haired man's chest, fingers absently toying with the raised marks of his tattoos. It didn't last long, the silence.
"Isn't that kid's funeral tomorrow?" Ichigo asked quietly, deep voice exhausted.
"Di. Yeah, it is. Why?"
"Uh, you think it's OK if I come?"
Grimmjow considered it, mind going over all the reasons the orange-haired man shouldn't go. But then again, if the guy really wanted to be there, who could stop him? He'd found the hard way that Ichigo was like a bull in a china shop when he wanted something.
"Ya wanna go? Ya didn't even know him."
"Yeah, that's true, but I know you. Isn't that enough?"
He shook his head and turned onto his side so he could look Ichigo in the eye. "Yeah. Go to sleep. I'll get you up in the morning."
He caught the quick glimpse of panic in Ichigo's eyes before it was snuffed out. Just like him, Ichigo still had some trauma from what had occurred between them, but also like him, Ichigo was obviously trying to get past it.
"Alright. Night," he mumbled as he flopped onto his stomach.
Grimmjow spoke through a long yawn. "Night."
The morning was crisp, a strong breeze making leaves swirl around like swooping kites. Ichigo blinked as he climbed the stairs of the stone church, Shiro and Shinji at his side. He glanced over his shoulder and refused to smile like a goofy toddler at the sight of the blue-haired man that had finally spent the night with him the proper way. While Ichigo wore a form-fitting, black sweater and black khaki pants, Grimmjow wore a black button-up shirt, a black, silk tie and black slacks. He didn't have a hat covering his wild blue locks and the shirt's sleeves were rolled to mid fore-arm. Even mourning, the man oozed a massive amount of sex appeal. Hands in his pockets, he climbed the stairs behind Ichigo slowly. Ichigo felt bad for him, he really did, but he wasn't about to smother the man with affection. It would only piss him off. It was enough that the man had allowed him to be there in the first place. He wasn't about to ruin the moment being an annoying prick.
Shinji paused at the top of the stairs, turning back to face Grimmjow. The blond gangster wore a black vest over a black dress shirt and black slacks. Even he looked spiffy, but now wasn't the time to acknowledge it. Shiro wore an outfit identical to Ichigo's, unruly pale hair tamed for the time being. His eyes were serious as he waited behind Shinji to enter the church. Overall, the small group held a somber atmosphere, but that was to be expected.
They walked into the church together and found seats close to the back. It made sense that Grimmjow and Shinji didn't want to bring unnecessary attention their way. The casket up front was pitch black and shiny, the upper half opened and revealing a young boy with hair the same color as Shiro's. It was stiflingly tragic, especially after surveying the crowd and noticing an older couple huddled in the front pew, clutching each other as the woman cried loudly. Then, there was the red-haired boy seated in the left front pew, eyes rooted to the casket. He was silent, but tears paved a steady path down the sides of his face. Ichigo cleared his throat and looked away. He couldn't stand all the sadness.
He took a chance and peered over at Grimmjow seated beside him. The blue-haired man stared at the casket with a frown etched deeply across his face, lips pursed tightly. Face flushed and ears red, the gang member seemed like he was on the verge of throwing one hell of a tantrum. His large hands were balled into fists and resting against his bouncing knees. Ichigo didn't get it, but he carefully eased his own hand under one of Grimmjow's fists, coaxing the taller man to release it and try to relax. The look the man pinned him with afterward was so disturbing, it was scary. There was pain, uncertainty and fear written all over the man's face and buried deeply in those glacial eyes.
"What's wrong?" Ichigo whispered, confused.
Grimmjow shook his head abruptly and turned to face the front of the church again. The service was starting because a man dressed in a long robe stalked to the podium on the raised platform behind the casket. There was singing by a choir, then there were people chosen from the crowd to speak on the boy's behalf, but Ichigo only lent it half an ear. His main concern was the man at his side, behaving like he was on the way to his own execution.
"Are you sure you're good?"
Grimmjow stood with the rest of the audience as the pallbearers surrounded the casket and lifted it into the air. Ichigo grudgingly followed suit, but kept his eye on the blue-haired man. Something wasn't right; in fact, one could say something was very wrong. He glanced past Grimmjow at Shinji, but the blond seemed normal. His expression wasn't its usual devilish one, but he didn't seem panicked and scared. Maybe funerals made Grimmjow uptight. That could be a good explanation for the man's odd behavior. The casket gradually left the church, the pallbearers carrying it to the hearse parked at the curb. The boy's body would be carried to the local cemetery, where he would be buried. Grimmjow and Shinji hadn't planned to go that far, but Ichigo thought it only made sense after going to the service. They might as well go all the way. The two gangsters had refused, however, so it was out of his hands.
The family followed behind the casket first, then the rest of the congregation exited the church. The casket was loaded up, as well as the plethora of flowers the boy had received, the family was trundled into a long black limo parked behind the hearse, and not long after that both vehicles disappeared. The service had lasted about an hour and a half, which wasn't very long.
Shinji stood at the top of the stairs, hands in his pockets and Shiro standing next to him. "What now?" he asked.
Grimmjow stepped down the stairs and turned his back to them. "Leave. Now. Get him outta here."
The hairs all over Ichigo's body stood up straight as he focused on the blue-haired man. What was going on? He hadn't heard Grimmjow sound that dangerous since the night the man had shot him. He swung his gaze around to Shinji and was relieved to see that he wasn't the only one confused and taken off guard. Shiro's eyes were wide and Shinji wore a deep frown as he stared at Grimmjow's back.
"Shinji!" Grimmjow barked, glancing over his shoulder. "Do it!"
Shinji visibly jumped, hands coming out of his pockets immediately. He started towards him, but Ichigo quickly dipped around him. His heart was in his throat by now, he was so nervous and baffled. He didn't get far, though. Shinji managed to snag the back of his shirt and pull him back, his other arm out and pushing at Shiro's chest.
"Move! Let's go!" the blond yelled, voice cracking as he shot his first uncertain glance in his best friend's direction.
"What's goin' on?" Ichigo shouted. "I'm not movin' til you tell me somethin'!"
He was so scared. If Shinji looked like that, then he was certain something bad was about to happen. And then he spotted exactly why everyone was in a panic. A bunch of guys dressed from head to foot in red, black and white emerged from the park across the street, led by the dark-haired man Ichigo remembered getting into a scuffle with a while back. There were about ten of them. What the fuck? Why was Grimmjow just standing there? Why wasn't he hauling ass until he could prepare himself to fight them back?
"What are you doin', stupid! Run!" he screamed, even as Shinji began man-handling him away. The blond was pretty strong to be so slender. Shiro didn't help matters as he grabbed Ichigo's shoulder and tugged at him too. "No! No, please! Wait! Shinji help him! He can't fight them all by himself! Why won't you do somethin'?" he yelled, unaware that tears were sliding down over his cheeks.
Shinji's honey-brown orbs narrowed as he paused for a brief second. "I can't ignore an order," he gritted through clenched teeth.
Ichigo turned back to Grimmjow, eyes wide with panic. Oceans of blue met his frightened gaze, calm and steady as a light house in the midst of a hurricane. And then the shots started, jerking the taller man's body in several different directions as bullets tore through his shirt and blood stained the stone stairs. Ichigo's mouth formed a devastated "O" as he watched the gruesome scene. He only had time to see the man fall to the stairs in a crumpled sort of heap before being dragged away from the church, bullets sailing past his head and pinging into the stone walls of the church.
He didn't realize he was screaming until they were all shoved into Shinji's car, the blond wearing tear streaks down the side of his face as he screeched out of the parking lot.
So, this is the official ending of Dirty. But...before you go rampaging and trying to kill me through the internet, I plan to start the sequel very soon. It shall be entitled Even Dirtier, so stay tuned! Thanks for reading!