I've got a neighbor who has four cats, and every night the smallest one will sneak into my kitchen and curl up next to my dog. It's so cute.
Ichigo slid into his apartment and shut the door with a quiet click. His canvas shoes made no sound on the carpeted floor as he made his way into the living room from the dimly lit hallway. A light trail of cat kibble led the way to a small form huddled half under his favorite red sofa, half under his cluttered coffee table.
"Grimmjow, baby." Ichigo cooed, setting his backpack on the floor before crouching down to tickle his cat's furry white tummy. "I'm home. I got you something good."
Bright blue eyes watched him curiously from under the shelter of the sofa, but Grimmjow didn't make a move to get up and greet his orange haired master.
"I'm not giving it to you till you stop acting spoiled."
If looks could kill, Grimmjow's glare was one that could freeze you.
"Don't sulk. Do you want your surprise or not?"
Slowly, as if sullenly showing how reluctant he was, Grimmjow rolled over and slid to his feet. Blinking one lazy eye at Ichigo, he silently stretched and yawned, displaying two neat rows of sharp white teeth. Ichigo chuckled, reaching out with one hand to scratch his cat behind the ears.
"I got you a catnip toy."
Grimmjow was on immediate sucking up alert. Rubbing his head against the leg of Ichigo's grey jeans, he used every ounce of charm to appeal to his master. Amused, Ichigo reached over and unzipped his backpack, tugging out a brown paper bag with a fascinating bulge hidden within.
Purring, Grimmjow raised one furry white paw and set it on Ichigo's hand. Bending low, Ichigo took the small paw in between finger and thumb, awarding Grimmjow with a kiss. He had high hopes that the new toy would keep his pet occupied for a while.
Ichigo upturned the paper bag, revealing a neon orange stuffed fish toy. Grimmjow purred even more, blue eyes slitted, giving him a crafty look.
"But first things first, what do you say?"
His white cat tilted his head inquisitively, as if asking him a silent question.
"It's the magic words."
Again, another tilt.
Giving up, Ichigo folded the paper bag neatly and set it on the coffee table.
With a sudden leap, Grimmjow landed square on Ichigo's chest, sending his master flying backwards onto the carpet. Baring his teeth in a sinister smile, the white cat quickly began to morph into a larger, longer shape. His white pointed ears shrank to become round tipped, and big blue cat eyes lengthened out into more human-like ones. Sharp claws became softer pinkish nails and fur slid back to become skin. Grimmjow's long white tail curled inward to make up the human version of a tail bone, and his teeth shrank down to regular human size.
In a matter of half a minute, Ichigo found himself on his back with a hundred and seventy pounds of Espada towering over him. It didn't help that the confident, somewhat cocky smirk Grimmjow wore made him feel like shit was about to hit the fan in a matter of seconds.
"Thanks, master." There was smugness underlying the sugary sweetness in his tone.
". . . You're welcome." Ichigo struggled to keep his panic down.
Sometimes when Grimmjow morphed back into his Espada form, Ichigo would end up in a pool of destructive trouble. But sometimes, Grimmjow could be in total control and everything would go smoothly. Sort of. Truthfully, with Grimmjow around, nothing ever went as planned. The man was just so unpredictable.
"Are you scared?"
"Just don't go anywhere near the blender again, okay?"
"Answer my question."
Feeling apprehensive, Ichigo watched Grimmjow, who in turn watched him back. Both were silent for a while.
"I'm not scared." Honey brown eyes searched cerulean hued ones.
Well, that was partly a lie.
"That's good." Smirking, Grimmjow leaned down to tug at Ichigo's belt. "Because I believe thanks are in order, master."
Alarm bells started ringing somewhere at the back of Ichigo's mind, but he brushed it aside. Why get sidetracked by something as trivial as your conscience? Besides, Grimmjow's hands were big and warm and wonderfully skilled at finding out his weak spots just by touching him through the fabric of his clothing. Ichigo reveled in the feel of the older man's rough, callused hands, so experienced with wielding a sword, and yet so gentle when it came to caressing him.
Deftly sliding Ichigo's belt out of his pants' loops, Grimmjow tossed it behind him, not caring that the metal buckle made a sharp sound on the glass of the coffee table. He could care less if it had cracked into half and shattered all over the floor, but that would have been highly unlikely. Furniture was made of stronger stuff. Anyway, the floor was carpeted. It was convenient. More so now that he had the golden opportunity to undress Ichigo.
Popping the buttons on his master's casual shirt, Grimmjow's sharp ears picked up the plunking sounds the buttons made as they ricocheted off hard surfaces in the living room. He gazed down at Ichigo, who had a light blush tinting his cheeks, ochre eyes avoiding his stare, and delicious mouth parted slightly as he breathed a little unsteadily. Just one light touch, and Grimmjow knew Ichigo would cover his face with his hands. It was just one of the many things he knew about the orange haired man, and most of the time he didn't know what to make of it. Cute was probably the word for it, but Grimmjow didn't exactly like coming to terms with the word cute. Adorable didn't have a very nice ring to it either. Grimmjow decided he preferred the term endearing. Yes. Ichigo was endearing. Sweet, delectable, and charming.
And right now, most of all – vulnerable.
"Ah." Ichigo said breathlessly, and then looked as though he wished he hadn't made that embarrassing sound.
As Grimmjow watched him writhe and bite down on his lower lip in an effort not to make more noises, he wondered why he was so attracted to the boy. He pondered over the possibility of growing soft in his decidedly ancient age, but dashed it all when Ichigo produced a breathy moan, grasping him on one arm and bucking his hips into his hands. Allowing his thoughts to scatter into broken pieces, Grimmjow leaned down and pulled the boy closer by his hips, guiding him with swift, skilled hands.
Like regular clockwork, Ichigo's hands automatically covered his face, as if he was too embarrassed and had to hide. Grimmjow had never seen his expressions during sex. It was usually just pushing, thrusting, grunting and sweating, but now the Espada had a fervent urge to watch his new master's face as he experienced one of their routine activities. Not that such a common word like 'activity' was suitable for what he would be doing to Ichigo, but still. Grimmjow was learning a lot more about the human world, and after centuries of being ignorant about the living species, he was proud that he was doing remarkably well. Ever since he'd learnt that sex was something to be enjoyed, and not just for the purpose of reproducing, Grimmjow had found an excellent way to manipulate most of his master's time.
It was a good thing. Ichigo looked much more exhausted than usual. Grimmjow had high hopes of making him stay at home more often.
Gripping Grimmjow's broad shoulders, Ichigo pulled himself upright and felt his heart give a little jump as the Espada's hands fumbled their way inside his pants from behind. Grimmjow gave a low growl as he tugged on his master's boxers. Inconsequential things like silly articles of clothing always got in the way. Sometimes the Espada wondered if his master really found the need to bundle himself up in pieces of cloth necessary. After all, he never really seemed to emanate with a glowing radiance until Grimmjow had his hands on him. The Espada refused to accept that Ichigo turned pink because of the daily frolicking they did. There was nothing to be shy about. Grimmjow didn't feel the need to blush just because he allowed nature to take its course.
Feeling two – or was it three? – of Grimmjow's fingers wriggle their way up inside him, Ichigo tensed, his eyelashes fluttering shut. Slender fingers clawed at Grimmjow's bare back as he gritted his teeth, willing himself not to make any more strange sounds. This time, however, he couldn't help himself. As Grimmjow grazed his sweet spot, Ichigo felt a jolt sizzle up his spine and back down again before repeating itself. Each time it happened, a rush of blood would travel down to pool at the lower part of his stomach. It was an ordinary thing to be feeling, and Ichigo was no stranger to masturbation, but this was much different than the times when it was just him and his hand. It still caught him off guard, especially when Grimmjow angled his fingers the way he was doing now.
It felt good.
"E-Enough," said Ichigo, gripping the strong shoulders he was holding on to. "I can't . . ."
"It's alright if you come." Grimmjow replied smoothly, using his free hand to rub at Little Ichigo.
Eyelids lowered and breath coming in ragged pants, Ichigo could already feel his release building up. His grip on Grimmjow's shoulders was tightening. A niggling warning amid all the pleasurable sensations sent his nerves to the limit. With a sharp gasp and a long, drawn-out moan, Ichigo came, spurting white seed all over the front of his white casual shirt and his chest. Wearing a smirk that had a faint hint of triumph, Grimmjow leaned over to lick a hot trail from Ichigo's navel up to his left nipple. The smirk widened when the orange haired man jerked and bucked his hips involuntarily. Grimmjow still hadn't removed his fingers yet, after all. Much to Ichigo's chagrin, the blue haired Espada was intending to replace them with something else much bigger in size.
It was ironic, how he always left the house after sex – for work purposes – and came home to sex. Ichigo tried not to think about insignificant things like that. He felt ready to melt into Grimmjow's arms for the rest of the night – and possibly tomorrow and the day after, too, if his work permitted it, which it most certainly would not unless he was looking for a reason to get fired, but still – because the man had a way of making him feel so good from the roots of his hair to his toes.
Grimmjow lifted his head and allowed Ichigo to latch on to his mouth automatically, like a needy child. He snickered into Ichigo's mouth when the man in his lap produced a soft wanton mewl and proceeded to rub up against Grimmjow's stomach muscles.
"You're hard again, so fast?" Grimmjow chuckled into Ichigo's hair as he breathed in the smell of tropical shampoo his master always used.
If he breathed deep enough, he could almost trace the scent of strawberries.
"Mmm." Ichigo murmured as he sagged against Grimmjow's neck.
He clenched around Grimmjow the second he entered. It felt big, like it always did. Ichigo could feel his breath hitching as he tried to adjust.
A low drawl sounded in his ear. "Relax."
That didn't really help, but Ichigo did his best. It wasn't like he was a virgin anymore, but every time he did it with Grimmjow, the man could turn him into a blushing schoolgirl with his skilled hands. The only thing Ichigo supposed he could beat Grimmjow at during times like these was kissing. Cupping Grimmjow's face in both hands, Ichigo gently pressed his lips against his, using his tongue to tease Grimmjow's lips open. The Espada shifted obliged, shifting his weight in his lap as he continued to push into him. Ichigo found himself rubbing his now fully hard length against Grimmjow. The friction felt simply amazing, but he was still anticipating more.
"You're eager today." Grimmjow noted with a crooked grin.
Ichigo kissed him some more to make him shut up. So engrossed, he barely noticed when the Espada had pulled out to the tip of his length. He only realized – with a gasp and a jolt – when Grimmjow thrust back inside him, repeating the action until he had a steady rhythm flowing.
Grimmjow smirked when his master finally threw self-consciousness to the wind and released a series of moans that were probably loud enough for their neighbors to hear.
The alarm on the bedside table rang shrilly, disrupting Ichigo's sleep with its loud peals. Honey brown eyes slid open blearily to blink up at the ceiling. The temperature in his bedroom seemed to have risen, despite the heavy rain beating down on the window panes outside. Ichigo wondered how he had managed to make his way to the bed, but Grimmjow was fairly capable of a lot of things. He didn't need to check the mirror to see possessive bite marks littering the fair skin on his chest.
The blankets moved, and Ichigo swallowed as blue hair and a wide smirk emerged from beneath the warm covers.
"Why don't you stay home today, Ichigo?"
Blue hair disappeared back under the covers, and hands did their expected job of freely roaming around on exposed skin.
"No." The orange haired master tried controlling his enthusiastic pet. "I have work to do at the office, and . . . !"
Grimmjow decided not to let him finish that sentence.
Coincidentally, Grimmjow didn't allow his master to leave for work, either. Images, why do you plague me so? I'm quite amazed at myself for finishing a whole jar of Nutella while writing this. I may have trouble speaking tomorrow.
Does anyone else think Ichigo's completed Fullbring outfit looks a lot like a superhero's? I think it's sexy.