Hi, it's been a while! I love reading all of your reviews, even if I don't respond to all of them. Thanks for all your support~ Cheers to all the GrimmIchi fans out there! :)


"Ichigo, go put these in the storage room!"

Tatsuki dumped a box full of streamers, crepe paper and assorted shapes of cut-out Styrofoam in his arms.

The school's summer festival was already over, and the students of Karakura High were preparing for summer break. Ichigo and his classmates were now cleaning up the decorations from their previously held Cake Café. Orihime had been forbidden to go within a ten metre radius of the confections, so she had been booted to the decoration section instead. Hence she had gone overboard with the bunting at her disposal.

"Why me?" Ichigo tried to balance under the weight of everything as Tatsuki continued piling leftover rolls of colored paper and a stack of plastic café menus on top of his box. "Couldn't you ask someone else?"

"You're . . . convenient." Tatsuki slid the last roll of pink and white striped paper under his arm. "I guess I can get someone to help you. The storage room door is heavy, after all. There's no way you can open it by yourself. Hey, Grimmjow!"

Ichigo cringed at the name.

"Tatsuki, no - !"

Too late. Grimmjow was on his way over, doing his usual swagger.

Like hell Grimmjow would help him; they were arch enemies since the start of middle school, and were now in their senior year of high school. They still would jump at each other's throats every chance they got – which was becoming increasingly low thanks to the newly appointed school discipline rules. But it didn't mean they couldn't brawl outside of school, which had been happening a lot lately. Everywhere Ichigo went, it seemed like Grimmjow would be there too. It didn't matter the time or the place; you name it – karaoke with friends, killing time at the arcade, basketball games, Grimmjow would somehow manage to pop up.

It was infuriating.

Because it also meant that Grimmjow shared the same friends Ichigo did, and Ichigo didn't really like that. Not one bit.


Grimmjow was annoying. To be more accurate, he had a nasty habit of getting under Ichigo's skin. They'd argue over the littlest things, and it would lead to an even bigger argument, then usually ended with a fight. And it didn't matter how much he worked out, or tried to keep in shape – Ichigo would always lose to Grimmjow. It wasn't the issue of experience; both had an almost equal amount – Grimmjow was judo captain, and Ichigo beat up random thugs who would come at him every single day.

It irked the orange haired teen that Grimmjow could be stronger than him. During every fight, when it came for dealing the last punch – just to prove who was stronger – Grimmjow would never do it. Sure, he'd do the customary grabbing of the collar and shoving Ichigo backward, then looming above him with the typical ominous glare, but then he'd back off and walk away from the fight like nothing happened. It made Ichigo feel frustrated inside; why wouldn't he just hit him properly and be done with it once and for all? It made him feel like Grimmjow didn't think he was man enough to take the punch. It made him feel almost jealous whenever he'd watch Grimmjow practically hurl a random thug ten feet into the air – why wouldn't he just end their fights like that? Ichigo mulled over the possibility that Grimmjow figured he was weak and couldn't handle a real beating.

It made him want to fight the blue haired teen even more. The more Ichigo thought about it, the more exasperated he became. Grimmjow would always get into the same fights he was in, too. Like that other day when six guys from Akiba High – an infamous delinquent school from the other side of town – cornered Ichigo in the park. And that other day when eight guys tried to take him on – just because he had a different hair color other than the usual black or brown. Oh, and that one time when someone tried to pickpocket him in the crowded street fair. Wherever Ichigo went, Grimmjow would always be nearby, somehow.

It was bad enough that they were in the same class, too. Ichigo managed to console himself that he was lucky the blue haired bastard didn't stay in the same neighborhood as he did. It didn't help that Grimmjow was popular, either. He had this badass look going on, what with his wavy blue hair that he kept pushed back from his face – like a geezer, in Ichigo's opinion – piercing blue eyes that seemed to see through you and make you feel naked before him, full, pouty lips that were usually drawn back into a knowing smirk; all this just seemed to make girls swoon at his feet. Naturally, he attracted nearly whole of the female population in Karakura High with his magnetic force – and equally magnetic smile.

The senior girls would swarm over at his table during class breaks to giggle and flutter their eyelashes at him – or sit on his desk with their short, short skirts and long, long stockings – under the excuse of borrowing his notes, or lending him theirs. Ichigo would always pointedly ignore all of this open flirting. He was glad he'd gotten a window seat, two rows away from Grimmjow. That way he didn't have to deal with the smug grin Grimmjow would shoot in his direction all the time.

In a way, he was kind of jealous of the girls. They got Grimmjow's attention so easily with just a hitch of their skirts. Thankfully, Tatsuki was not one of them.

"Whaddaya want, Small Boobs?" Grimmjow's lazy drawl spiked irritation in Ichigo.

Tatsuki aimed a kick at Grimmjow, but he caught her by the ankle single handedly and laughed. "Gotta be quicker than me, chick. Nice zebra panties, by the way."

"Shut up and help Ichigo with the props already!" Red in the face, Tatsuki retracted her leg and rewarded Grimmjow with a pinch on his arm.

He responded by tousling her hair.

"Why not just let Big Boobs over there do it?" Grimmjow ducked as Tatsuki swung her fist at him. "What? She's the one who went crazy with the decorations, and it's not like she's doin' much over there . . . she's just letting Ulqui cop a feel."

" . . . That perv!"

Instantly enraged, Tatsuki whirled on her heel and stomped away in the direction of Orihime's desk, where she sat giggling next to a very smitten – but innocent – Ulquiorra. Ichigo sighed and shifted the weight of the box in his arms. He didn't need to wait around for useless people. He could do this on his own.

Walking to the door, he kicked it open with a quick flick of his foot and sauntered down the corridor. He was well past the senior classes and heading by the row of science labs when Grimmjow finally caught up with him.

"Gimme that damn box."

"Shut up."

"The top rolls are gonna fall."

It was true. Hating the fact that Grimmjow was always right, Ichigo gritted his teeth and stopped to shift the box again. Grimmjow slid an arm under it.

"Here, let me."

"It's fine; I can carry these on my own." Ichigo tried to pull the box back.

"You sure about that? Cause you look cute when you're staggerin' . . . kinda like a little duck. With a box."

Ichigo's head snapped up and he shot Grimmjow an icy glare. The taller teen grinned back mischievously.

"Now you just look even cuter. You've got that three-seconds-till-you-die look on your face."

Inhaling a deep breath, Ichigo tried to keep his sanity in check. Allowing Grimmjow to carry the box – under one arm, like it didn't weigh a thing – he hugged some rolls of colored paper to his chest for comfort. Not wanting to walk beside Grimmjow, because it would give others the supposition that they were friends, Ichigo slowed down a little and walked a few steps behind him.

"So, storage room A, or C? As far as I know, B's been locked since the janitor incident."

Ichigo shrugged. "Don't know. Tatsuki didn't say."

"That's helpful." Grimmjow ran a hand through his hair. "Guess we'll have to pick, then. Why don't you choose?"

Grimmjow was acting civil for a change, which wasn't unwelcome. Even so, Ichigo found it strange. Usually it would be all colorful language and some choice words about the size of Ichigo's brain.

"Anything would do."

He didn't feel like playing along.

"Aww, that's boring." Grimmjow waited for him to catch up before slinging an arm around his shoulders.

The orange haired teen immediately shrugged him off. "What the hell?"

"Come on, I don't want to fight with you anymore. Let's play nice."

"Go fuck yourself." Ichigo walked a tad bit faster, not caring if he was squeezing the paper rolls a little tighter than needed.

"But that's what you always say." In two strides, Grimmjow was back to walking beside him.

Ichigo cursed the fact his legs were just that few inches shorter than Grimmjow's. He was taller, good looking, experienced with girls, a chick magnet, a boy magnet, rich, and overall stunningly gorgeous. He could keep his grades up, too, despite the frivolous partying. Girls said he was fun to be with. Guys said he was cool. Everywhere he went, people liked him. Ichigo didn't like admitting to himself that he was jealous. It seemed like even Grimmjow won in that aspect. It pissed Ichigo off no end.

"Just . . . shut up. It's bad enough I have to work with you."

"You really hate me that much, huh."

"Yes." Ichigo snapped back, turning to head down the stairs.

Frankly, he didn't care if Grimmjow followed or not. He just wanted to get away from the overwhelming presence that his classmate had.

"Would it help if I bought you lunch?" Grimmjow skipped the last three steps to catch up with him. "Or dinner. Your choice. I could cook for you, too."

"The son of a fashion designer can cook? Amazing," retorted Ichigo as he stopped in front of storage room C. "What else can you do?"

Grimmjow's smirk turned borderline lecherous. "A whole lot of other stuff, virgin."

Ichigo bared his teeth at him. "That's really getting old. What's so exciting about sleeping around?"

Shrugging, Grimmjow ran a hand through his blue locks. "You won't let me do you, so I've been finding substitutes."

There was a slow, awkward silence, accompanied by an incredulous look from Ichigo. He opened his mouth to say something biting, but decided against it. There was no arguing with Grimmjow's logic, really. Finally, the orange haired teen decided to just leave it at that and open the storage door. It creaked and groaned, and only budged a few inches before getting stuck. Ichigo growled.

"What the hell is up with this door?"

Grimmjow chuckled, setting the box down. "Let me try."

The door didn't move at all, much to Ichigo's amusement. It was Grimmjow's turn to growl.

"Storage room A sounds like a better option." Ichigo suggested with a sigh.

It would be a pain to walk with Grimmjow all the way up to the fifth floor. But then again, Grimmjow had always been a pain. He figured he'd be used to him by now. They were about to turn and walk back up the stairs when the door slid open with a loud groan. Apprehensively, Ichigo inched a few steps closer to Grimmjow, who sneered.


"Man whore."

They shared a heated glare.

Stark poked his head out and caught sight of them. He grinned as he stepped out, buckling his belt and tugging his tie back under his uniform collar. Halibel slid out from behind him, adjusting her bra under her button-down uniform shirt. Ichigo fought to hide his blush as he noticed several hickeys on her left breast. She shot him a once-over and smirked as she sized him up.

"So, Berry boy and the Beast together." Halibel remarked as she reapplied her cherry lip gloss. "How . . . rare."

Ichigo gritted his teeth for the second time that day. He'd done it in the morning when the milk spilled over his cereal bowl and onto his pants, but that one didn't count. Enduring his friends' snide comments was far more grating.

"Big Tits and Dreamer, that's even more rare. Kinda like a lioness doing the mating dance with a wolf." Grimmjow shot back, earning a poisonous glare from Halibel in return.

Not like he really cared. He'd already been in her pants more than four times. But that was history.

"Can't you guys last more than five seconds before ripping each other?" Stark yawned, clearly satiated and sleepy. "Oh, and careful about the door. It got really stuck the last time when Renji and Ikkaku were stuffing their cigarette butts in the hinges, so I had to climb out of the window with Nel."

Grimmjow snickered as Halibel turned on Stark.

"You guys hooked up?"

Stark quickly slid an arm around her waist to pacify her and waved a goodbye before leading her toward a set of stairs that had a big sign. It read: "Off Limits". Ichigo raised his eyebrows at Grimmjow.

"It leads to the rooftop." Grimmjow smirked as understanding dawned on Ichigo's face. "We could join them and turn it into a foursome, if you want."

The image snuck itself into Ichigo's mind, and he struggled to fight it away while keeping his face straight. Grimmjow laughed at his strained expression.

"Let's just get these inside." Ichigo sighed, trying to hide his pink cheeks behind the paper rolls.

They headed into darkness and slightly dusty air. Ichigo fumbled around the wall close to the door, searching for the light switch while Grimmjow placed the box on the cement floor.

"I can't find the goddamn button." Ichigo muttered.

"Mine's always here, y'know."

Grimmjow chuckled as Ichigo's glare burned in his direction, even in the dark. He loved teasing the orange-head. Ichigo's expressions were just so adorable; they changed so fast with just the right words.

"Do you have to be so hormonal?" Ichigo shook his head, exasperated.

"Only around virgins." Grimmjow replied with a pointed look at Ichigo's pants.

He chuckled when the orange haired teen flashed him a choice finger and continued searching.

Eventually, Ichigo's fingers touched a dusty switch and he flicked it. Dim yellowish light filtered through the tall racks of paint buckets and sealed boxes from above. Despite the large amount of storage items, the room was neat and clean, if a little dusty. Ichigo tried to resist sneezing when Grimmjow accidentally kicked up a cloud of dust from a row of sand sacks.

"Put these up there." Grimmjow handed him the box. "I'll lift you up. There's no space in the bottom racks here."

It was a lie, of course.

There was plenty of space behind the stacks of empty flower pots and gardening hoses, but Grimmjow carefully blocked it from Ichigo's view. He just wanted to watch the orange head flush a deep crimson at the thought of being hoisted up by his ankles on Grimmjow's strong, manly shoulders.

"I don't need you to lift me up." Ichigo rolled his eyes. "There's a stool right over there."

Grimmjow frowned at the metal stool. One of the legs was a little bent and severed at the end, but it would have to do. Ichigo set the box in his arms and dragged the slightly unbalanced stool over to the tall holding rack before stepping on it and leaning down.

"Gimme that."

As Grimmjow handed him the box, he couldn't take his eyes off the firm, rounded display of ass in front of him. Nor could he tear his gaze away from the long, lanky legs that were hidden under fitting grey school slacks. They ended just above his ankles, and his white ankle socks weren't high enough to cover his utterly delicious looking fair skin. Grimmjow tried swallowing his escalating desire to jump his classmate. Ichigo had a great body, but he chose to hide it under his getting-too-small uniform while skulking around school grounds. Grimmjow didn't mind; it made him look even more irresistible, despite the perpetual scowl he wore on his otherwise handsome face.

Screw the stool.

Reaching out with one arm, Grimmjow surreptitiously clicked the door shut and slid his foot under one of the stool's rungs, giving it a swift pull. Ichigo swayed from his high position on the rickety seat. Quickly, he grabbed onto the shelf for support.


His fingers slipped, and gravity tugged him backwards – into Grimmjow's waiting arms. A hundred and forty-five pounds of sex on legs landed on Grimmjow's chest, dragging him down into a pile of bubble wrap and plastic hoses. Both students coughed from the flying dust.

"S-Sorry!" Ichigo sat up and blushed a deep red. "Are you okay?"

Grimmjow grinned. "I will be if you give me a kiss."

The blush on Ichigo's cheeks reddened. "N-No way!"

"Then I hurt my back, and you have to go get the medic."

"Seriously?" Ichigo slid to his knees and touched Grimmjow's shoulder. "I'm really sorry. I could help you get there, if you . . ."

Kurosaki was too cute. Unable to hold it in, Grimmjow burst out laughing. Ichigo recoiled, clenching his fists as his annoyance grew.

"I was only kidding, kidding." Grimmjow tried to mollify him, grabbing his wrists to stop him from jumping up.

Wrenching his wrists away, Ichigo scrambled to his feet and made for the door.

"You never change." He snarled down at Grimmjow as he scrabbled with the door handle. "Excuse me for thinking you actually were injured."

Getting to his feet, Grimmjow pushed back the hair from his forehead. The problem with Ichigo was that he took things too seriously sometimes. Saying the slightest thing would set him into ticking bomb mode. It was getting harder to make him smile.

"Why is it that you seem to have a stick up your ass all the time?"

Blue eyes met honey brown ones in sturdy defiance. Ichigo ended their staring match with a malicious glare and jiggled furiously with the door knob. The door didn't budge an inch, and the handle twisted out of its hold into Ichigo's hand.

"Holy shit." Ichigo tried to reconnect the knob back. It didn't work. "I-It's still locked."

Grimmjow snickered. "I can tell."

"You had something to do with this, didn't you?"

Plastering a look of mild surprise on his face, Grimmjow blinked and shook his head. "Why do you always suspect me for every little accident?"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes at him, advancing toward Grimmjow with a faint aura of murder.

"Get the door open right now!"

"I hate to break it to you, but I don't have superpowers or anything. I'm just your ordinary, average guy."

Unable to keep his anger in control, Ichigo slammed his fist into Grimmjow's face, only to have his wrist caught in a death grip as Grimmjow used his leg to knee him in the stomach. Expertly, Ichigo skipped to the side to dodge the blow and swung his free hand, catching Grimmjow in the chest. He shoved hard enough and wrenched his wrist away. The movement caused a few boxes to come tumbling down from a shelf above.

Thankfully, they were sealed with duct tape, so none of the items inside spilled out. Using two of the boxes as leverage, Ichigo aimed a flying kick at his rival, who ducked and grabbed at his other leg, sending him off balance. Inwardly releasing a string of curses for being so wide open, Ichigo grasped the nearest thing available to steady himself – a metal rung from the biggest rack in the room. Swinging his elbow out, he slammed into Grimmjow's jaw, but the bastard leaned away just enough to avoid his blow. Grimmjow got a tight grip on Ichigo's waist and hoisted him off the boxes before throwing him down onto a neat stack of high-jump mattresses.

Expecting to hit something hard, Ichigo squinched his eyes shut and prepared himself for a few bruised bones. Surprise enveloped him when he touched soft PVC covering. Grimmjow loomed over him, mouth set in a determined line. There were no traces of anger or homicidal intent in his eyes, which was unusual and slightly upsetting. Ichigo wasn't used to this new expression.

Grimmjow was grappling with his conscience to keep his emotions in check. He praised himself for managing to hold out this far without pinning Ichigo down and devouring him, because the orange head looked so delectable and ready to eat twenty-four seven. It was bad enough he had to ward off all the incoming threats aimed Ichigo's way, be it in the form of wishy-washy high school girls who claimed to be big Ichigo fans or delinquents who just wanted to fight.

"Just do it." Ichigo told him, and Grimmjow felt the blood drain from his face to his knees.

Had he heard the orange head wrong? Was Kurosaki really giving him the green light?

Noticing the incredulity on his enemy's face, Ichigo rolled his eyes and chuckled. "If you're going to beat me up, then you might as well do it right. I've been waiting for this for a long time."


Now this was confusing. Ichigo wanted to get thoroughly beaten up?

"I said, just hit me already!" The look on Ichigo's face was a mixture of annoyance and anguish. "You always let me off the hook right when I least expect it. I know you think I'm weak; I know I'm weak. You remind me of that every time we fight; you never run it through me the way you do it to other guys."

Oh. A wave of awkwardness washed over the blue haired teen.

"I can't hit you." Grimmjow muttered.

"Why the fuck not?" Ichigo demanded, the familiar scowl returning to his face.

How could he be attracted to this foul mouthed, thick headed, gorgeous beauty who just didn't know when to stop riling him up?

Grimmjow had a pressing urge to wipe that frown off Ichigo's face, and decided to just go along with his instincts. Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth to Ichigo's, reveling in the feel of his soft lips. The orange head went stiff, his shoulders cringing up to his ears as he feebly pushed at Grimmjow's chest with both hands. When that didn't work, he made the mistake of opening his mouth.

Heaven at last.

Grimmjow seized the opportunity to stick his tongue in and swirl it over and under Ichigo's. He could feel him squirming beneath, but it didn't matter; it was having a positive effect on his groin. Kurosaki tasted amazing, like a mixture of chocolate and cinnamon. Ichigo's body was warm and his skin felt soft to the touch, almost like a girl's. But Grimmjow knew better. All that track running, football practice and knocking out bad guys had turned orange head into a lean, lanky fit piece of meat – not that Grimmjow had been keeping a record on Ichigo . . . much.

Deciding he was fairly ticklish when Grimmjow slid his hand under his uniform shirt, Ichigo broke the kiss and sat up for a breather. Things were going too fast, and he didn't quite know what to do aside from stare breathlessly at Grimmjow.

"Too much?" Grimmjow murmured from somewhere around Ichigo's neck. He was so sensitive there. It was fun making him wriggle with embarrassment.

"I . . . what're you . . . this isn't . . ."

Grimmjow watched Ichigo struggle for the right words while trying to cover his blush at the same time. Odd, how he wasn't really resisting.

"Why aren't you fighting back?" Grimmjow nipped at the fair skin around Ichigo's collarbone, causing him to fidget uncomfortably.

"Shut up." Ichigo reached for Grimmjow's neck and closed the short distance between them.

All reason flew out the window, together with Grimmjow's conscience, as they shared molten kiss after kiss. Grimmjow allowed Ichigo to grip his hair tentatively when he trailed his way down Ichigo's collarbone to the extra sensitive skin below his navel. Lost in Ichigo's delightful moans, Grimmjow wondered how long it would take before he had every sensitive part of Ichigo's body mapped out in his head.

His fingers made quick work of the buttons on Ichigo's uniform, revealing slightly tanned skin and hard stomach muscles. Unbuckling Ichigo's belt – not that he really needed one, Grimmjow noted. The uniform slacks hung nicely around his waist anyway – and unzipping his fly, Grimmjow was pleased to see Ichigo half-hard and steadily rising.

Knowing full well that Ichigo was chewing on his bottom lip, trying not to urge him on Taking Ichigo into his mouth, Grimmjow slid his fingers over his sacs and squeezed gently. He smirked when the orange head's tightened his grip in his hair.

"Gods . . . Grimmjow." His panting breath tickled the back of Grimmjow's neck as he tried to sit up properly, and failed.

Peeved, Ichigo settled for a half-slump instead. Pulling his head back and releasing Ichigo with a soft 'pop', Grimmjow raised his cerulean eyes to meet lust-filled honey brown ones.

"More." Ichigo demanded, tugging on Grimmjow's collar like it was the only thing stopping him and Grimmjow at the moment.

Chuckling at Kurosaki's impatience, Grimmjow allowed him to clumsily strip him of his clothes as he balanced one knee on the mattress. When Ichigo got as far as his fly, Grimmjow stopped him with an intense kiss that left him breathless. A thread of thought slid through his hazy aroused mind; Ichigo looked so damned fuckable, with that cute, eager-but-not-wanting-to-show-it face. And those eyes . . . Grimmjow could lose himself in them.

"Are you alright?" Ichigo was now watching him worriedly.

"Yeah. Just . . . yeah." Grimmjow ducked his head and tried to stifle his laugh. "I just can't get over how beautiful you are."

The blush on Ichigo's cheeks told him he was pleased, embarrassed and flattered at the same time.

"Y-You're beautiful, too." Ichigo's soft lips met his in a tender kiss. "Especially when you smile."

They stared at each other for a few minutes, taking time to absorb everything in. There was no need to rush things. The past feelings of rivalry were way behind them in a little drawer marked history. And now, maybe it could blossom into the start of something new. After all, graduation was just around the corner. They would be free, and there would hardly be any school rules to try to stick to. Their friends would understand; didn't they always?

And just to make Ichigo blush some more, Grimmjow pulled him into another breathtaking kiss.


A door slammed somewhere.

"Did you put them in the storage room, Ichigo?" Tatsuki's voice snapped Grimmjow out of his reverie.

The classroom was abuzz as always, with flying paper airplanes and noisy chatter accompanied by whoops and laughter. Grimmjow checked his watch. Apparently he'd been imagining cheesy things again. He'd become quite adept at it as of late.

"Yeah. had a little trouble with the door, but I ran into the janitor and he said he'd fix it." Ichigo was massaging the back of his neck wearily. "Can I borrow your Physics notes?"

Leaning back against his chair, Grimmjow heaved a sigh as Tatsuki rummaged around under her desk for the right set of papers. It had been a nice dream, but he wanted it to continue on so badly. Well, he wanted a lot of things, mainly his classmate Ichigo, but logic told him it wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Grimmjow watched as Ulquiorra, the class president, stride up to the front and begin rambling something off a list.

"Partners for this summer break's art project have been determined by Yamamoto-sensei. There will be no changes made, so learn to deal with whoever you have." Ulquiorra spoke in his usual monotone.

Rolling his eyes, Grimmjow yawned and stretched out in his seat. An art project was the last thing he wanted to do right now. He had better things planned ahead for the summer, and it certainly did not involve completing assignments . . . until the last week of break, of course.

". . .Renji and Shuuhei, Stark and Toshiro, Nnoitra and Halibel." Ulquiorra flipped to the next page and cleared his throat. "Grimmjow and Ichigo, Tatsuki and Inoue. . ."


So his lucky star hadn't done a bunk, after all. Amid the hum of classroom chatter, Grimmjow felt like grabbing Ulquiorra by the shoulders and asking him if this was real.

Seated at his desk, Ichigo turned around in his chair and scowled at him. Grimmjow smirked back at him.

This was going to be an amazing summer.


I've been eating everything chocolate lately. I've made chocolate chip cookies, moist chocolate cake, chocolate pudding, chocolate rolls, chocolate flavored jelly, and that other day I couldn't resist snatching up that last jar of Nutella . . . I seem to have chocolate on the brain! Does anyone else think I need help? xD