Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...
There comes a time in a teenage boy's life, where all he can think of is sex. Grimmjow was in the middle of living that statement. He glanced across the lunch table at Kurosaki and grinned to himself. God, the boy just didn't realize that he had sex appeal leaking from his ears and nose. Kurosaki glared at him, grip inhuman around the spoon in his left hand.
"What'd you just say to me?" he growled, husky baritone low and throaty, taking Grimmjow back to the special moment they'd shared in the alley.
Grin spreading to his sideburns, the blue-haired teen sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "I said kiss me."
Kurosaki rolled those fierce brown eyes of his and went back to devouring the cup of chocolate pudding in his other hand. Grimmjow chuckled under his breath as he studied the teen. He loved getting under Kurosaki's skin; it turned him the fuck on. Deciding he could do much more damage, he sat forward and leaned across the table some.
"Well, lemme suck yer dick, then," he rumbled.
Kurosaki immediately froze. After a beat, his head slowly raised, whiskey eyes wide and pupils dilated. Oh? Grimmjow leaned back and gave a sideways smirk. He'd noticed after his and Kurosaki's little encounter in that alley that the orange-haired boy didn't snap at him as much. In fact, the boy didn't resent Grimmjow's thinly veiled – sometimes not even that – innuendos anymore. Occasionally, something like this would occur, where Kurosaki would let his irascible force-field falter and let blatant lust shine through. Those moments made Grimmjow want to grip a fistful of that intense orange hair and make the other teen howl in pleasure. But that was too much too soon.
"Ya know I'm jus' jokin' witcha, right?" he continued instead.
Kurosaki's head shook back and forth so slightly and quickly, if Grimmjow hadn't been watching closely, he never would've seen it. Brown eyes visibly cleared, then narrowed as Kurosaki leaned forward across the table.
"You like teasin' me, Grimmjow?" he growled, voice making the blue-haired teen's man downstairs pay very careful attention.
Amused and hiding it, Grimmjow coolly arched a brow. "Why dontcha elaborate, Kurosaki? Tha's jus' too good ta leave hangin'."
"You know exactly what the fuck I'm talkin' about. You sit here and say shit you know makes me uncomfortable. And you do it because it makes you laugh – like this is some sorta game. Well, this ain't my idea of fun, asshole!" Kurosaki spat as he dropped the pudding cup onto his lunch tray and climbed to his feet.
No other words were exchanged as the shorter teen stalked away, ass on his shoulders for all the wrong reasons. Grimmjow leaned back in the cafeteria's blue, plastic chair, arms folded across his chest. Kurosaki was an idiot if he thought that was all this was about. Understandable, the kid had only recently come face to face with Grimmjow's true sexual nature, so misgivings were bound to occur. However, Kurosaki – the dumbass brat – had no idea how hard it was for Grimmjow to keep his hands to himself, let alone watch his words. Hell, the other boy was lucky all he'd encountered so far was the watered down version of the weapon of mass destruction that was the blue-haired teen's mouth. Ungrateful little heathen. Not to mention, Kurosaki practically wallowed in denial whenever they were near each other. It was ridiculous, yet still Grimmjow ignored it. He didn't want to put the carrot-haired imbecile on the spot, simply because he still wanted to get into the guy's pants. But Kurosaki was pissing him off and when Grimmjow got pissed...it wasn't good for anyone. Namely, the person in question.
He growled under his breath as he too stood and made his way out of the cafeteria. He really didn't want to ruin his master plan, but at the rate Kurosaki was moving, it made for extremely sluggish progress.
Kurosaki was driving him mad with those innocent grins and that slick ass mouth of his. Grimmjow stared across the rooftop of the school and pretended to study a bird perched over the door. What he really wanted to do was strip the orange-haired teen beside him and take this thing they had a few steps further. He was tired of being patient, tired of waiting for the boy to wrap his mind around being with another male. At the moment, Grimmjow couldn't stop thinking about digging into Kurosaki's jeans and wrapping a hand around that perfect-
"Why're you so quiet?" Kurosaki's deep voice questioned, snatching Grimmjow from his dirty thoughts.
Grimmjow shrugged. "Jus' thinkin'."
"Really? You actually do that?"
Kurosaki cackled and rubbed a hand over his nose, smile still in place. As Grimmjow peered at him from the corner of his eye, he noticed that Kurosaki's smile was one of those rare, genuine ones. His lips were curved upwards, and his eyes were narrowed with amusement. Grimmjow sucked his teeth and looked away, disgruntled. Why was it so easy for Kurosaki to look good? Why did the guy make it seem so effortless, like he didn't even realize that he was that handsome in the first place? It was frustrating as hell.
"No, but seriously. You look like somethin's bothering you," Kurosaki went on.
Grimmjow fiddled with the hem of his hoodie and stared down at his ratty sneakers. He had a choice. He could ignore Kurosaki's question and pretend there was nothing wrong, or...he could tell the idiot exactly what he was feeling. That Kurosaki's full lips and enticing body had him mesmerized – had him itching to lay hands to the other boy. It was a tricky situation because Kurosaki had issues with his sexuality at the moment. He was confused since he'd never been attracted to guys before. Well, at least that's what he'd told Grimmjow. Grimmjow rolled his eyes. This wasn't even him. He never held his tongue. He never considered another person's feelings. He was just him, and nine times out of ten, him meant being an asshole. So, why did he feel the need to tiptoe around Kurosaki?
That in mind, he turned and faced the orange-haired teenager with a smirk. "Yeah, there's somethin' wrong wit' me after all, Kurosaki."
Kurosaki's eyebrow went up. "I mean aside from what's already wrong with you, of course."
Grimmjow ignored the barb and leaned in, almost nose-to-nose with the other boy. "Yer pissin' me off wit' all this wishy-washy shit. Ya think I can't see how bad ya wanna do somethin' ta me? With me? So, ya say yer not gay, right? But ya let me jerk ya off in that alley. An' ya did the same ta me. All I'm sayin' s'ya might wanna rethink things. Maybe make up yer mind 'er somethin' 'cuz I'm tired a'waitin'."
Kurosaki's face...was priceless. Grimmjow wanted to laugh. So, he did. He cackled and snorted like the other boy's expression was the funniest thing he'd ever seen in his life. He was tired of hiding his true nature in order to get into Kurosaki's pants. If the kid didn't even have the decency to at least consider the fact that he might be a tiny bit in denial, then Grimmjow had nothing left to be conservative about.
A hard punch to his shoulder brought him right out of his thoughts. Grimmjow turned to Kurosaki, face incredulous.
"What the fuck's wrong witchu?"
"Stop being an ass!"
"Well, stop bein' a fuckin' bitch! Man up, Kurosaki! 'Er ya too busy thinkin' 'bout what these sheep'll think a'ya?!"
"Wait! Where the fuck is this even coming from?"
Kurosaki seemed genuinely confused, and Grimmjow didn't understand it. He stared into deep brown eyes, lips parted in shock. "Ya can't be serious," he breathed.
"I am fuckin' serious. I don't get where this is comin' from all of a sudden. I mean, I know you mess around with me, making jokes and shit, but this sounds different."
Grimmjow climbed to his feet, shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and glared down at Kurosaki, eyes cold and sharp.
"So, what yer sayin' is you've been treatin' what I've been sayin' like a joke?"
Kurosaki faltered, brows pulled into his signature scowl. "Well-"
"Fuck that!" Grimmjow cut him off, blood roaring and skin prickling with fury.
He'd never been taken so lightly in all his school years. Then, he stopped and thought about the situation. Kurosaki was hot. Kurosaki had a similar temper and similar likes and dislikes. Kurosaki was book-smart, but he didn't have an ounce of common sense. Grimmjow was too impatient to wait around until the kid figured shit out. He could get sex anywhere if he really put his mind to it – most times, he didn't even have to. It just would've been really nice to get his hands on the boy he'd had his eye on for a while now.
"I joke around, Kurosaki, but I don't play games. Since ya feel like this is a game, we can end it here. I won' bother you again."
Kurosaki jumped to his feet, eyes wide and still fucking confused. "Wait, Grimmjow! I don'-"
"Stop," Grimmjow interrupted again. "I thought ya were jus' tryna figure out whatcha wanted. Seems like I was wrong, so I'll let ya have what ya been wantin' since I first started talkin' ta ya: alone time. Nice knowin' ya, Kurosaki."
Grimmjow turned on his heel and strode over to the door to his freedom. All of a sudden, he felt stifled and trapped. Restless. He didn't want to see Kurosaki's face for at least a week. Otherwise, he'd kick the damned thing in.
Ichigo stood on the roof of the school, wondering what the hell had just happened. Grimmjow had been acting weird lately anyway, but his departing speech had been mind-blowing. Ichigo hadn't been expecting it, so it left him unbalanced. Reeling, even. Why the hell had Grimmjow gotten so serious all of a sudden? Hadn't his little dirty suggestions and comments been jokes? That was the understanding that Ichigo had.
"What the hell?" he muttered as he flopped down onto the roof's floor.
He leaned back against the metal railing and sighed as he closed his eyes. Now Grimmjow was clearly pissed and wanted nothing to do with him. Which, in hindsight, should have been a good thing. So, why did Ichigo feel like shit for the look that Grimmjow had been wearing? Nothing was adding up, and everything was just one big blob of confusion. If he wanted answers, he would have to chase the blue-haired teen down and force him to respond, which would more than likely result in a fist fight.
He'd been steering clear of those in recent days, and actually, his anger had begun subsiding. It was possible that Grimmjow had a very big part to play in that, but so what? Ichigo wasn't about to admit it.
"No fuckin' way," he grumbled.
He reached into the breast pocket of his uniform shirt and retrieved the stolen cigarette he'd pilfered from Grimmjow. He'd grown to like the soothing and relaxing effects of the nicotine. Never mind the fact that he was slowly killing himself, nor the fact that if his old man found out, he wouldn't need to worry about being killed by cancer. Smoking put him in a special happy place, where he was able to think and muse in peace.
Although he felt the calming sensation from the nicotine after his first lungful, his mind wouldn't allow him to settle down. He kept wondering what Grimmjow was up to. Why had the boy been so pissed? Had Grimmjow really been serious about this thing that was going on between them? Ichigo had thought it was all a joke – a huge prank that the mischievous student had been playing. Now, however, after Grimmjow's award-winning speech, Ichigo was starting to think otherwise. But...what the hell was he going to do to resolve the issue?
I'm keeping these chapters for this particular story short and sweet. It's not going to be more than ten chapters, simply because I hadn't meant for it to be a full-fledged fic.
Thanks for reading!