There's gonna be a couple cameos, just cuz I couldn't help myself. Some serious crack in those cameos too, methinks. I'm freakishly unbalanced. Uh…Enjoy! -TPP




Anyways, the conclusion, and, as Racey likes to say:


A Passing Grade

Part 2: The Date [or] Friday, The Day of Cataclysmic Change

11:30 A.M.


Ichigo didn't even have time to roll his eyes before he felt arms wrap around his middle and a rather tall, lanky, pale-skinned fox demon latched onto his back.

"Ichimaru-sensei, what did I tell you about piggy back rides?" Ichigo sighed, too tired from his sleepless night of tossing and turning about a certain blue-haired dad to even bother pretending to have the strength to throw the eccentric history teacher off of him.

"Ne? Mah, Ichi-chan, tha' face ain't cute a'tall," Gin huffed, sliding off his kouhai's back and patting his extremely orange hair, "I jus' wanted 'ta have a bit'a fun. Anythin' 'ta make tha' berry blush!"

"Don't call me that, Ichimaru-sensei."

"Mah, who's that?" Gin said, putting a finger to his chin as if contemplating the rhetorical question, "My name's Gin. G-I-N, Ichi-chan!"

"Ugh, look, Gin, at least call me Ichigo. I can't stand that pet name."

"Ah! So I can call 'ya Ichigo," he snickered, patting Ichigo on the back, "We're finally the best'a friends, ne? I knew ya'd warm up 'ta me eventually!"

"More like bullying," Ichigo mumbled.

"Mah, what was that?"


"Mah, who?"

"Gin, don't you have lunch duty in the cafeteria today?"

Gin put his finger to his chin again, tapping it there as he contemplated, "Mah, I s'pose I did. Ah, well, I'm sure the lil' cretins are gettin' along jus' fine."



"Jesus Christ, Ichimaru, just go do your job already!" Ichigo nearly shouted, shoving the overlord of irritation towards the west wing, which led to the cafeteria.

"Mah, but I gotta hide!" Ichimaru said, opening his ice blue eyes wide and clinging to Ichigo's forearm, "I can't be seen out in the open all willy-nilly! He'll find me 'fer sure, and once he catches his prey, he don't ever let go, and I gotta give a lecture on Buddhism this afternoon, and I won't be able 'ta if my bottom hurts –"

Oh god, Ichigo thought, trying to stop the image of the high school principal and the history teacher screwing each other senseless in the school hallways. Ever since Ichimaru had decided to make Ichigo his confidante in all things of the sexual nature regarding his relationship with the narcoleptic nymphomaniac, Ichigo was certain there wasn't going to be any issues if Ichigo and Grimmjow ended up dating. There were far too many other pressing problems in the teacher population then worrying about a math teacher dating a dad.

If we date, Ichigo thought with another sigh, keep dreaming, kid.

"Well, I'm heading to the teacher's lounge to heat up something to eat. Why don't you tag along? Safety in numbers, yeah?"

Gin's smile nearly split his face, hiding his eyes, "Mah, Ichi-chan, 'yer the bestest best friend anybody could ever have!"

Ichigo just shook his head as he was dragged through the hallways, counting down the minutes until he could escape the school grounds and get prepared for his date with a rather handsome dad.

When they made it to the teacher's lounge, a sleepy-eyed man in black slacks and a button down white shirt was sitting on the small couch next to the kitchenette, his eyes closed, but that didn't fool Ichigo for a minute. The narcoleptic nymphomaniac high school principal was probably more awake and alert then Ichigo was at the moment.

Starrk cracked an eye open, staring directly at Ichimaru, "Gin, where have you been, sweetheart? I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Mah, Principal Coyote, what a surprise! I was jus' headin' ta' the cafeteria, ya see, I'm on watch ta'day and-"

"Did you forget about our budget meeting? That field trip to the museum seemed really important to you last week."

"U-uh, yeah, sir, well, ya see-"

Starrk stood up slowly and stretched his arms over his head, yawning before approaching Ichimaru, who tried to hide behind Ichigo.

"Meet me in my office in five minutes and maybe I won't make you wear the cat ears."

Starrk made it to the doorway of the teacher's lounge before Gin jumped him, making Ichigo's face break out in speckles of red.

This is too far! Even for them!

"Mah, how can 'ya ignore 'yer cute fiancé like that, Mr. Principal? Yer so mean," Gin murmured, wrapping his arms around the taller dark-haired man, "The wolf's supposed 'ta pounce on the fox, not the other way 'round!"

"My apologies," Starrk chuckled, kissing Ichimaru on the forehead before turning slightly to face Ichigo, "Your paycheck says that you didn't see anything here today."

Ichigo's mouth dropped open, wondering if Starrk was kidding or not. Was that a threat or an incentive?

Gin licked at Starrk's ear, "Ya gonna punish me, principal?"

"Oh yes. I think a spanking is long overdue."

The two disappeared and Ichigo was left alone in the teacher's lounge, his ears still burning.

What the fuck? Adults running around acting like freaking oversexed teenagers!

The door re-opened, revealing a tall, redheaded and heavily tattooed gym teacher. He was sporting Nike track pants and a light grey tank that had ARRANCAR ACADEMY stamped out across the front. Ichigo had to admit, if he hadn't met Grimmjow yesterday, he'd be sorely tempted right now, especially since Renji had a light sheen of sweat on him. He'd more than likely just finished with the eighth grade class who were all clamoring to get onto the high school track team.

Renji's eyebrows were drawn together, "Oi, did'ja know Starrk's fuckin' Gin? How long's that been goin' on?"

Ichigo headed to the fridge, ignoring his oblivious work mate.

"All body, no brains."


"Nothing, Pineapple Head."

4 P.M.

"Ya gotta be shittin' me."

"What? Too much?" Grimmjow grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. His best friend of nearly a decade, kendo teacher, and boss of Hollow Inc. shook his head from side to side a few times, his long, jet black hair down past his shoulders today instead of up in its usual crazy spikes. He looked huge, especially standing in the hallway that led from the living room to the kitchen table area, where he had his dark grey eyes focused on the red and white rose petals that were strewn all over the carpet and onto the table that was set with silver candelabra and porcelain plates.

"It's so girly," Kenpachi growled with a shiver going down his hulking frame.

Grimmjow drew his brows together, remembering Jinta's advice, "Nah, it's just old school. Ya know, wooing and whatnot."

"This Ichigo kid's got a dick, yeah?" Kenpachi said with a leer, "Ya think he's gonna be impressed?"

Grimmjow sighed and threw himself into a chair. All this preparation and the date was still four hours away. He was tired: he had gotten up super early (did he mention he wasn't a morning person?) and started cleaning the shit out of his modest house, hiding the boat and motorcycle magazines and opening all the windows and Febreezing the shit out of the place to cover up the cigarette smoke. He'd organized the entertainment system and put away the mountain of games that he'd bought for Jinta or himself. He'd shined and cleaned every available surface, even getting on his hands and knees to do the wood floor, "Jinta said I need 'ta take it old school. I don' wanna scare Ichigo off before he's even given me a chance."

Kenpachi laughed, "Well, I gotta say, this ain't you. I think he'll scare off just from the rose petals alone. A lil' strong for a first date, don't'cha think?"

"I don't know what I'm doin'," Grimmjow huffed, running his hands through his hair and leaning his elbows on the small glass dinner table, "I just followed a vid I found on Youtube. I've never – ya know, had to be romantic before."

Kenpachi nodded, understanding coloring his features, "God, I remember the first time I told Kisuke I loved him: you'd think the world had come to an end 'er somethin'. But…" a shark grin contorted Kenpachi's features, telling Grimmjow that whatever he was thinking was incredibly lewd, "I got a lot of rewards that night. Heh, if I'd'a known he was gonna let me tie 'im up like that–"

"Yo, Z, I don't need 'ta know the details," Grimmjow said, trying to build up mental walls against imagining his good friend who ran a small convenience store downtown doing anything sexual. Hell, the man was notorious for his perversions, so he could only imagine how much more Kenpachi had corrupted him over the fifteen years of their partnership.

"Ha, 'yer just jealous 'ya can't sex up this Ichigo kid yet," Kenpachi motioned his hand over the petals as if pointing at bugs, "I wouldn't have 'em trailing all over the floor. Some on the table is good, but this is just overkill, and I know a thing 'er two about overkills. Seriously, G, just chill. Be yourself: he's gonna want more, ya know?"

Grimmjow crossed his arms over his chest, pouting. Kenpachi always had a word of wisdom and, considering Kenpachi had been able to keep a relationship with a man for over a decade with two kids and keep the romance from sizzling out, hell, Grimmjow would be an idiot not to take his advice.

Then it hit Grimmjow: Kenpachi was his possible future.

Kenpachi had been married for only a few years but him and his ex-wife Soi Fon had had a baby boy named Shuhei. When they divorced and after plenty of custody battles, Kenpachi got the kid and Soi Fon disappeared into the military for good. Grimmjow had kept going to Kenpachi for advice and shit about parenting, which Kenpachi had taken in stride, considering when they had met and started hanging out, Shuhei had been about five and his adopted baby girl a newborn, and Jinta was barely walking.

The friendship had kept growing from there and, surprisingly, the men had a lot more in common then just fatherhood.

But then Kenpachi had introduced him to his husband, Urahara Kisuke and Grimmjow's eyebrows had hit the roof. Grimmjow had played for the vagina team until he discovered the rewarding world of cock in his twenties (better late then never) but he'd never even known Kenpachi swung that way, and when asked about it, Kenpachi had shrugged.

"Our eyes met. That was it. It was over. I knew I was done."

Goosebumps raked up and down Grimmjow's back, Kenpachi's old words swimming in his head as he thought about Kurosaki-sensei.

The second the orange head's amber eyes had connected with his own, he'd felt something drop in his gut with the weight of an anchor.

Holy shit, Grimmjow thought, clearing his throat, game over.

"I'm whipped, Z."

"No shit. Jus' make yer damn famous lasagna and be honest. Can't go wrong."

Kenpachi knocked him on the forehead with a huge calloused palm, making Grimmjow grunt. Sometimes he forgot the ten year age difference between them: Kenpachi felt more like an older brother, and he sure as hell didn't act like a mature 41-year-old father of two teenagers.

"Good luck with yer shit. I gotta go pick Yachi up from ballet," Kenpachi said as he walked down the hall, waving absently behind himself.

"What about the other brat?"

"Shu's workin' a shift at Kisuke's. He wants that damn guitar, he's gonna have 'ta earn it himself."

"That's what you said about Urahara's shop, but you barely waited an hour before buying up that property for him."

"Fuck off, G. Ya do crazy shit when 'yer in love."

Grimmjow laughed as Kenpachi saluted him before slamming the front door behind him.

Grimmjow looked at the crazy amount of petals all over the carpet, feeling like a blue island trapped in a sea of Hallmark foolishness.

He sighed, then got up just so he could get down again, beginning to pluck the petals from the thick beige carpet one-by-one, "Yeah, crazy shit."

6:30 P.M.

Ichigo sprayed a bit of his favorite cologne, something that smelled a little bit more like a cinnamon spice then what most men wore. It was faint, but that was okay. He didn't want to knock Grimmjow out.

If he even gets that close, Ichigo thought with a blush.

But, Ichigo knew this night was going in one direction and one direction only, if Grimmjow's antics yesterday were anything to go by. So, of course, Ichigo had taken extra time in the bathroom to make sure he was as perfect as possible. Extra soap, extra tender loving care to his backside, and, of course, making sure his hair was cleaned up. He wasn't a fan of hair being anywhere but on his head, thank you very much.

He shrugged into the mirror, hoping he was tan enough. Ichigo was a gay man: of course he took incredible pride in his body, but he hoped he wasn't taking it to the obsessive level that some gay men took it to. A professor of his from college had been an ice queen and a gym rat, one of the buffest gay dudes Ichigo had ever seen, and he'd been extremely critical of anything physical, male or female. Ichigo shook his head: he REALLY hoped he didn't act like that.*

"I just want to look good for him," Ichigo mumbled aloud, "What's wrong with wanting to look your best?"

"Talkin' 'ta yerself in the mirror again, King? 'Yer really losin' yer shit, bro."

Ichigo whirled on his younger brother and roommate. Shiro wasn't usually home this early: he was a senior in college and tended to go out as much as his young body could withstand, which was usually all night, every night. Shirosaki was a monster, and monstrously popular not only because of his exotic skin and eyes but also because of his brains. Ichigo might have gotten their mother's looks, but Shirosaki had ended up with her genius science brain.

Full academic scholarship, the lil' asshole.

At least the nickname King wasn't malicious or a mockery of Ichigo's choice to choose a humble career path instead of taking over their father's clinic like he'd hoped and dreamed one of his two sons would take on. The nickname had come around during one of their earliest chess matches: Shirosaki was almost ten years younger then Ichigo, but they'd played all the time. No matter how smart Shirosaki was, he could barely ever beat his older brother at chess, Ichigo's favorite game since he was six years old.

"You're home early," Ichigo murmured, turning back to the mirror to dry his hair better. He was in simple black boxers at the moment, but it wasn't like they didn't see each other naked all the time (Shirosaki tended to be naked far more often with his constant one-night stands being found all over the apartment like forgotten used toys).

"Cram week. Had 'ta get outta' the lab 'fer a while," Shiro groaned, flopping down onto Ichigo's futon, "Ukitake-sensei's drillin' me through the ground. If he thinks I'm gonna input all that experimental data and have my senior thesis in by Wednesday, he's fuckin' outta' his mind."

Ichigo snorted, remembering Shirosaki's constant rambling about his main sensei, a doctor who took on honor students to help him with his stem cell research at the university. Ichigo knew almost nothing about it (considering Shirosaki's science vocabulary was like the albino was speaking in tongues) but it was far more complex and controversial then he'd ever imagined. It wasn't just simply "cancer research": that was like saying Noah's ark only had tigers on it. There were elephants, zebras, and mice too, which was Shirosaki's area of expertise.

"Sorry you get paid to go to school and stare through microscopes all day. Must be tough. Your harem must really tire you out," Ichigo said with a teasing lilt in his tone, "but us simple, blue-collared folk have one-hundred-something students to control and papers to grade."

"Ah, shut up, King. S'not my fault I'm a fuckin' genius."

Ichigo did laugh then, walking over to his closet and pulling out a green t-shirt and washed out jeans. Finally, a chance to be casual. Having dinner at Grimmjow's house with a cheap bottle of wine sounded pretty damn casual, so Ichigo was trying not to over think his outfit.

"You got a hot date tonight?" Shiro teased, never guessing his older brother was finally going out and getting himself a life.

"Actually, yeah, smart ass, I do."

"Who's the unlucky stud?"

"The hottest thing on the face of the planet. Be jealous."

Shirosaki grinned, "Nah, that's impossible. I'm dating the hottest piece this side of the hemisphere. Sorry."

Ichigo pulled the shirt over his head before looking at his brother with an exaggerated scared face, "Who are you, and what have you done with my relationship-retarded lil' brother Shiro?"

Ichigo grunted as Shiro threw a heavy decorative pillow at him, "Shut up. Shuhei's sexy."

"Wow, you remember his name. This could be THE ONE!"

"I'm'a kill ya, King."

Ichigo tugged on his jeans before fixing a belt through the loops, "Just playing. That's good, Shiro. How long?"

"A month and a day."

Ichigo looked at his little brother then, lifting his deceased mother's gold necklace from his bureau to fix around his neck. His brother had the matching bracelet but never wore it, claiming it was because it clashed atrociously with his skin color, but Ichigo knew better: his little brother cherished it far too much to risk losing it by wearing it.

"Wow, you really do like this kid."

"Ah, yeah, and, uh…he's kinda…he's in high school," Shiro said with a sheepish look on his face as he scratched the back of his head, "he's eighteen, though! I swear. I didn't know he was four years younger then me – he's so mature…"

"What high school? Maybe I know him," Ichigo was fibbing, of course. He barely knew any kids from the adjoining high school, but if he was a senior there was a good chance he'd chaperoned him at some time or another for the various school activities and dances.

"Your high school, Arrancar Academy. Zaraki Shuhei."

Ichigo raised a brow, but not totally surprised. Punks with brains had always been his brother's preference, "Isn't that the kid who works for Urahara?"

"Yeah, that's how we…ya know, but I really like him, King. A lot. Which is…weird."

Ichigo wandered over to his little brother and ruffled his hair until Shiro got annoyed and slapped his hand away playfully, "Looks like everybody's getting lucky in the love department lately, huh?"

"Yeah, well, you better get laid tonight, bro, 'cuz I sure as hell am," Shiro said with a wink, "Just waiting for him to get off work."

"Huh, well I'm heading there now myself if you want a lift."


"Yeah. Grimmjow told me to bring some wine, so –" Ichigo trailed off, blushing furiously.

Shiro's eyebrows scrunched together, "Grimmjow…I've heard that name before..."

"Doubt it. Too rare," Ichigo supplied, hoping his voice didn't sound nearly as girly and dreamy out loud as it did in his head.

"Arite, well hurry 'yer girly self up so we can bounce."

"Shut the fuck up."

6:50 P.M.

"Ah, welcome, Ichigo-san! Shiro-san! Such a nice evening, ne?" Urahara greeted them upon entering the humble shop. It was pretty old school, but that was what Ichigo liked about it. Sturdy wooden shelves in neat rows that housed different kinds of snacks, simple foods, and nearly every kind of candy and beverage imaginable.

And, of course, plenty of liquor along the back wall.

"What's up, Urahara? Working hard or barely working?" Ichigo said, heading straight for the wine aisle as Shiro zeroed in on a sweeping Shuhei.

"Ha, well, you know," Urahara said vaguely, fanning himself with a white-and-green striped fan. The shop was cool, thanks to the recently installed air conditioning unit, but Kisuke always had the damn thing with him.

The blonde older male smirked at Ichigo as he approached the counter with one bottle of red wine and one bottle of white wine.

"Indecisive, aren't we. Must be a date," Urahara said playfully with a wink as he scanned the bottles.

"Uh, well, I never asked him which kind he likes, so better to be safe then sorry."

"Ooooh~ who's the lucky guy?" Urahara said, placing his elbows on the counter and setting his head there, staring Ichigo down like they were best friends sharing hot gossip, "Come on, don't leave a boring old man hanging!"

"Um…his-his name's Grimmjow," Ichigo started, knowing his ears were already red.

Urahara's eyes went impossibly wide at the same time the bell at the front of the shop went off, announcing new customers.


"Cuz 'yer too young. It's not like they'll never play another concert in Karakura. Relax."

Ichigo really hoped he hadn't peed his pants upon laying eyes on the giant of a man that had just come into the store. He was absolutely huge, at least six and a half feet and WIDE, but not at all fat. He was covered in muscle (a gym rat?) and the extremely petite girl at his side had the brightest pink hair Ichigo had ever seen trailing halfway down her back. She had a Chappy Bunny t-shirt on and multiple neon-colored bracelets. It was obvious they were father and daughter from conversation, but seriously, Ichigo never would have guessed if he'd seen them on the street.

"But that's not FAIR! You let Shuhei go ta' see Soul Society last year!" the girl pouted, grabbing a package of cookies off of the rack closest to her and opening it before starting to chew on one of the cookies.

Who the hell were these people?

"Enough, Yachi. Yer brother's eighteen, you're fourteen. Big difference. 'Sides, I don't trust that Rukia friend of yers…she's a little…off."* (*A/N: So I don't like Rukia. Sue me.)

"It's just me and Ururu and Nel!" the pink-haired girl screeched, grabbing onto the massive man's arm and bouncing up and down, "Come on, Kenny! You're killing me!"

"Wha'd I tell 'ya 'bout calling me Kenny?" the hulking man sulked as the Yachi girl ran around the other side of the counter and practically jumped on Urahara.

"Hi, Daddy!" she chirped, kissing him on the cheek and hugging his arm, "Kenny's being mean! You'll let me go see Soul Society, won't you, daddy?"

Urahara laughed as Ichigo looked between the two 'dads', totally out of his element.

"Kenny and I will talk about it later tonight, okay, sweetheart?"

"Hmmm, okay," she finally consented, looking at Ichigo with giant squishy girl eyes, "Hey, Mr. Strawberry-sensei!"

"Um, hi?" Ichigo answered, not knowing what else to do.

"I'm Zaraki-Urahara Yachiru, but call me Yachi, everybody does! I'm a freshman, but I've seen you wandering around during break times at school. You're a math teacher, right? That's really boring, Strawberry-sensei," she said with a laugh and another pop of a cookie into her mouth before she held the package out towards Ichigo, "Want one? They're delicious. You should TOTALLY buy some! Like, ten packs! They're only 300 yen a pack!"

Urahara ruffled Yachiru's hair before smirking, "That's enough advertising, Yachi. How about you go help Kenny load the boxes from the storeroom? He's gonna need more help."

"Don't encourage her, babe," Zaraki grumbled, pecking his husband on the lips, "It's bad enough she calls me Kenny."

"I'll help!" Shiro nearly shouted, following Shuhei towards the storeroom, oblivious to the critical eye the giant Kenny was following him with, his arms crossed over his chest as soon as he saw the albino disappear into the back room with his only son.

"I'm…totally confused right now," Ichigo began, looking from Urahara to Yachiru to the murderous glint appearing in the Kenny man's eyes.

The Kenny man wants to murder my brother to protect his son's maybe-virgin ass. Urahara has a Teletubby daughter on crack. What am I missing here?

"Oh, how rude of me," Urahara started, laughing jovially, patting Yachiru's head again, "This is my daughter Yachi and my husband Zaraki Kenpachi. They barely ever come into the store, but when I need help with deliveries, they're here in a snap! Shuhei's our son too. Well, he's my stepson, but he might as well be from my man-womb. Ah~ he was so cute as a baby! Ah, but he's Kenpachi's blood, you know! He's our one-and-only cherished son!"

Ichigo stared at Kenpachi's menacing form again as the man smiled (a friendly smile? A shark smile? He wasn't sure) and suddenly feared for Shiro's life.

"N-nice to meet you."

"Likewise, orange head," Zaraki said, nearly breaking Ichigo's hand in a handshake, "Or more like strawberry."

"Ahahaha! How funny! His name so happens to be Ichigo. Kurosaki Ichigo!" Urahara said before winking at Kenpachi.

If it was possible, Kenpachi's smile got even scarier, "Huh, well how 'bout that. Small world, huh?"

"I guess?" Ichigo said, not knowing why Urahara and Zaraki were giving him both such different smiles.

"I'm not hungry anymore. You can have the rest, Strawberry-sensei!" Yachiru said, leaving the cookies on the counter and running towards the back room.

Ichigo couldn't help it, "She's adorable."

"Thank you!" Urahara beamed.

"I didn't even know you were married, Urahara," Ichigo said off-handedly, always imagining the lewd shopkeeper to be a free shark in the waters of the homosexual world.

"Ohoho! Oh no, I've been happily married for nearly sixteen years!" Urahara said, showing off a very intricately braided bracelet of gold and silver, "It's so much more masculine then a ring, don't you think? Kenny picked it out himself!"

"Babe, don't make me break 'yer arm," Kenpachi said lowly, grabbing Urahara by the chin and pecking him on the lips again, "You know you're only allowed to call me two things."

"Ah, yes yes, I remember, Kenpachi," Urahara said, winking at Ichigo, "he's fond of Captain Cock, but usually he makes me scream it. You know, when he's pounding me through the mattress."

Too much information, Ichigo thought. That is not normal.

"Well, I'm running late, so here," Ichigo said, practically throwing the bills at Urahara before grabbing the bag with the bottles of wine neatly packaged so as not to rub against each other and break. He couldn't get out of there fast enough.

"Ah~ he's my favorite customer to tease," Urahara said with another airy laugh, "Ah, to be that young again! Grimmjow certainly knows how to pick them, ne?"

"He'll be fine. He actually likes this kid. You should'a seen the house: it was like Casanova took a dump on Martha Stewart."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

"Pretty damn close."

"Well, I'm glad," Urahara said, getting up on his tiptoes to kiss his husband on the cheek, "Ichigo's a good man. He deserves to have some romance in his life. Someone to sweep him off his feet~!"

Zaraki picked his husband up and dropped him over his shoulder like a fresh deer carcass, listening to the air whoosh out of Kisuke's lungs.

"Stop talkin' 'bout other men around me," Zaraki said heatedly, carrying his prize off towards the stairs. They had built a small upper-level for a resting place / break room.

"B-but the kids…!"

"Come on. I know that demon kid's probably got his tongue down Shuhei's throat by now, and Yachi's probably eating her weight in gumdrops."


"Don't even. I already flipped the CLOSED sign."

Urahara chuckled, "I love it when you get like this, all demanding and 'no Kisuke this, no Kisuke that'. It's very hot, husband."

"Captain Cock likes it even more."

Kisuke laughed all the way to the top of the stairs.

Hopefully he'd remembered to restock the lube.

7:15 P.M.

Ichigo stood on Grimmjow's stoop, trying to collect his breath.

He was early, he knew that, but there was no way he could have stayed at the shop another second.

Hopefully Grimmjow considered him punctual. It was fashionable to be a little early nowadays, right?

Or I look like a desperate loser, Ichigo thought to himself. Ah, well. Better here then there.

He knocked a few times, his heart rate beginning to pump blood harder as he tried not to think about where the night might lead.

Growing impatient, Ichigo finally just pushed the door open, wondering if Grimmjow was okay. He wasn't THAT early, and the man had said he was going to make dinner, so where the hell was he?

Ichigo toed his shoes off in the hallway when he heard the stereo, making his brows draw together tightly.

Kati Perry?

Ichigo made his way through the living room area, noting the wood entertainment system that took up almost the entire wall and the comfy looking dark leather furniture. The carpet felt awesome beneath his feet, and several works of art hung on the adjoining walls with a tall, skinny bookshelf near the reclining chair stuffed full of everything from classics like Wuthering Heights to Stephen King thrillers.

Smoking hot, cultured, and smart? So this is what love feels like.

Ichigo wandered in the direction of the music, realizing that a very male voice was bolting as hard as it could over the pop star, his back to Ichigo in the kitchen as he had on bright blue oven mits that made Ichigo want to laugh out loud. They nearly matched his hair.

Ichigo appreciated the view as Grimmjow bent over to retrieve a rather large pan of lasagna from the confines of the oven and put it on the countertop in front of him. Grimmjow slid to the side on the tile floor, his socks creating extra slickness as he pivoted:

"Let's go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love…

we can dance until we die…you and I…will be young forever!"

Ichigo had to put a hand over his mouth as he watched the unbelievable cuteness unfolding right before his eyes. Ichigo had to appreciate the man's shirtless state, which exposed a giant gothic 6 tattoo on his lower back, his jeans riding ridiculously low on those ridiculous hips…

I can't have a boner before dinner. No, this is not happening...

"You make me feel like I'm livin' a teenage dream, the way you turn me on,

I can't sleep, let's run away and don't ever look back don't ever look back!

My heart stops, when ya look at me, just one touch, now baby I believe…!"

Grimmjow moonwalked and did some kind of pivot thing where he twisted completely around, and when his eyes landed on Ichigo, he looked so adorably flustered Ichigo had to laugh then.

Grimmjow practically sprinted for the compact stereo attached below a set of overhanging cabinets, turning it down before facing Ichigo again, his hair a gorgeous mess over his forehead, his glasses showing how much he was blushing.

"Uh, hey, you," Grimmjow finally mumbled, taking off the oven mitts as he tried not to look directly at Ichigo's face, "Yer early."

"And I'm so glad I was," Ichigo said, setting the bag of wine down on the island counter before taking in the site before him. Herbs and sliced up vegetables and all kinds of cooking supplies littered the kitchen and that lasagna smelled so good Ichigo's mouth was already watering.

"Um…maybe I'll go put on a shirt. It'll give me some time to think about how humiliated I am," Grimmjow said, running a hand through his hair.

Ichigo leaned against the counter, loving this a little too much.

For some reason, Ichigo felt like Grimmjow was totally vulnerable right now, which was just too fucking cute.

Which made Ichigo feel…very comfortable.

"Or you could not," Ichigo said, staring at Grimmjow's smooth, ridiculously perfect chest and licking his bottom lip unconsciously when he noticed the silver nipple ring, "Wouldn't want dinner to get cold, you know?"

Grimmjow's smile was slow and too damn perfect, "Just for the record, I don't usually act like this when I'm cooking. Teenage Dream is so fucking catchy my body couldn't deny it.*"

"Totally forgiven. If it had been Spice Girls, I might have even joined in," Ichigo said with a laugh.

Grimmjow grinned at him, "I'll be right back."

Ichigo unloaded the bottles from the bag before hunting in the cabinets for wine glasses, finding them quickly and unscrewing one of the lids of the white wine (his favorite, and yes, screwing the top off. Wine was still classy, bargain bin or no bargain bin).

Grimmjow came scampering back in about a minute later (wearing a striped tank top, dammit!) but toting a CD.

He popped it into the player and pressed the forward button, the leer never leaving his face as he set about chopping up the rest of the Italian olive salad he'd set out earlier:

"YO I'll tell ya what I want what I really really want!...



Ichigo nearly spit the wine out of his mouth before both men became nearly hysterical with laughter.

"…I want (ah!) I want (ah!) I really really wanna zig zig AH!"

Ichigo handed Grimmjow one of the goblets he had poured and Grimmjow took it, wiggling his eyebrows while mouthing along to the song, "If YA WANNA BE MY LOVER, YA GOTTA GET WITH MY FRIENDS…"

It was so stupid, but Ichigo hadn't had this much fun in a long, long time. Shit, maybe even since high school. They hip-bumped each other when it got back to the chorus, Ichigo offering to help slice up the (homemade?) Italian bread and toting it towards the set dining table. He couldn't keep the stupid smile off of his face as he stared at the beautiful porcelain plates and silverware with crushed rose petals around a single plain-white candle in the middle of the table. It was so simple, but it made Ichigo's heart clang around in his ribcage.

Shit, how can he be such a dork but so romantic? Fuck!

Grimmjow arrived with the lasagna and Ichigo grabbed the now awesome-looking salad (with extra croutons, Grimmjow said it was pointless without croutons) and Grimmjow poured them each another glass of wine.

Conversation was easy. Too easy. Ichigo wasn't nervous at all. In fact, Grimmjow was so down to earth, happy with such trivial things, that Ichigo found himself fascinated by his humility. He kept turning conversation back to Ichigo, about his family, his job, his dreams.

It was surreal to be treated like a prince for once. To think that somebody wanted him, like, for real.

Two hours went by. Maybe three.

"Ah, almost forgot about dessert," Grimmjow chastised himself, heading for the kitchen, "Mint Chocolate Chip or Cookies and Cream?"


Grimmjow whipped his head around the edge of the partition separating the kitchen from the dining area, "What's up?"

"I like you," Ichigo admitted, knowing his whole body was probably flushed, "So if this is some kind of twisted joke, please tell me now so that I don't fall for you more."

Grimmjow's eyes went a little wide before he composed himself and leaned against the wall. He rubbed at his eyes, pushing his glasses up into his hair, "Tha's not fair, Ichigo. I'm tryin' 'ta be a gentleman."

Ichigo smiled, "I know, and I appreciate it. A lot. I do, but…I've had an erection since I got here and, well, seriously, I was expecting a one night stand, but…I don't really know if I could handle that now."

Grimmjow groaned, pushing a fist to his forehead, "I'm gonna sound so uncool right now."


Grimmjow sighed before making his way over to Ichigo and getting down on his knees in front of Ichigo, taking his hands in his.

Ichigo nearly threw up his heart.

"Holy fuck, you're not proposing to me, are you?"

"What? No, well, not yet, I mean – maybe some- wait, lemme think," Grimmjow said, closing his eyes for a second before opening them again and staring into Ichigo's, "I just wanna say that – fuck, this sounds corny, but – since the moment I laid eyes on you in your classroom, I knew you were it. BAM. FIREWORKS."

"Another Kati Perry reference?" Ichigo teased, trying to make light of the situation.

"Shut up," Grimmjow said with a smirk, "The point is…uh, I've never done a proper relationship, ya know? I've never really been with someone, for real, like, everything. I want that with you. I think you're it for me."

Ichigo wanted to scream at the tops of his lungs.

"This isn't happening."


"I'm sleeping right now, aren't I? I'm gonna wake up and never have met you, or you never kissed me at the conference, or I'm not really in love with you or something –"

"Is that so bad? Bein' in love with me?"

Ichigo squirmed in the chair, his hands still clasped in Grimmjow's, "Sorry to piss on your parade, Grimm, but we've known each other, what? Twenty four hours?"

"So?" Grimmjow shot back, leaning up into Ichigo's face, breathing against his mouth, "Is there a rule book? A calendar?* You wanna take a survey for the next year, ten years, twenty years? I'm just tryin' 'ta be honest with you, 'cuz I feel like I've known 'ya my whole life already. I want you, I've gotta have you. You're it for me."

Oh my fucking god, take me now!

"This is crazy. We barely know each other –"

"I'll get to know you better," Grimmjow promised, pecking him on the lips.

"I don't know where you work, why your kid hates me-"

"I work for Hollow Inc. I'm a web designer, but I dapple in other art shit too. My kid doesn't hate you. He actually really likes you, told me to woo you instead of jump you, told me not to break your heart."

Ichigo grabbed both sides of Grimmjow's face, holding his head steady, "If you're fucking with me, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, I will kick your ass."

Ichigo thought his dick couldn't get any harder when he saw Grimmjow shiver slightly.

"I'm not fucking with you," Grimmjow purred, pushing one of his palms against Ichigo's crotch, "Not yet, anyway."

"Shit," Ichigo breathed, wanting everything to stop but not at the same time, "I'm such a slut. We haven't even had dessert yet."

"I could have you for dessert."

Ichigo busted out laughing, nearly forgetting his straining erection as Grimmjow unzipped his pants, "Seriously? I cannot believe you just said something so fucking corny."

"What are you talking about? That's perfectly cliché porn dialogue, babe."

Ichigo mewled, his heart stuttering at the endearment. Grimmjow was stroking his cock now, slowly, too slowly, in Ichigo's opinion.

"Can I, Ichigo? Can I eat you up?" Grimmjow husked, his tongue poking the very tip of Ichigo's cock, Ichigo's toes curling as he saw the glint of Grimmjow's tongue ring.

Ichigo arched his back, hating and loving the torture.

Then he glared and set his right foot over Grimmjow's crotch, making him hiss, "If you put that in your mouth right now, we'll never make it to the bed."

Ichigo cried out as Grimmjow nibbled along the edge of his cock, milking the precum with his talented fingers, "We have all night to make it to the bed, Kurosaki."

Ichigo barely had time to gasp before he felt it, the force of his orgasm making him nearly buck off the chair, Grimmjow's face now covered in spurts of cream.

"S-sorry," Ichigo whispered, totally embarrassed.

"Are you kidding? That was hot," Grimmjow leered, leaning up and kissing Ichigo on the mouth, "Never had a facial before."

Ichigo didn't know whether to laugh or moan again.

"Take me to bed," Ichigo murmured against Grimmjow's lips, "I want you to fuck me properly, right now, please."

Grimmjow growled, allowing it to build in his throat before he jumped up and dragged Ichigo to his room, not bothering to close the door before throwing him onto the bed.

"Fuck, ya look sexy like that," Grimmjow said, licking his lips and wiping the rest of Ichigo's spunk off with his hands onto his jeans before unbuttoning them, "but how 'bout we get you naked?"

Ichigo pulled his t-shirt up over his head and started sliding his jeans all the way off before Grimmjow got impatient and nearly ripped them off his legs before tugging on Ichigo's boxers, Ichigo gasping as they ripped along the seems.

"Apologies," Grimmjow murmured, attacking Ichigo's mouth, "but no underwear allowed in my bed. Ever."

Ichigo couldn't reply because he couldn't breathe. He was flipped onto his stomach, his ass raised, and Ichigo's eyes went wide.

"What are you – HAAAAAAAAHN!"

Grimmjow's tongue lapped greedily at Ichigo's pink hole, running the gauntlet around his taint and sloppily sucking at perfect hairless balls before doing it all over again, his tongue prodding hard against Ichigo's now begging hole.

"I thought you wanted to be fucked properly, Ichigo."

Ichigo's eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head, "Fuck! Don't stop!"

"I'm gonna eat you from the inside out, pumkin."

"Grimmjow, just –hnnnnnn," Ichigo couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do ANYTHING but hope to god the blue-haired man didn't STOP.

It was beginning to feel so good it was painful, Grimmjow's teeth teasing his rim, making him scream bloody murder.

"So good," Grimmjow husked, freeing his own cock that was veined and throbbing. He was soaking wet already, hard before they had even made it to the bedroom, "You're so good, Ichigo, I'm gonna go crazy."

Ichigo spread his legs further, desperate for Grimmjow's penetration. He even had the arm function left to spread his cheeks, making Grimmjow groan loudly.

"Shut the fuck up and fuck me!" Ichigo demanded, past the point of being polite.

I'm a slut. I'm a fucking cock slut for Grimmjow.

Ichigo screamed as Grimmjow slid in, his cock barely halfway before Grimmjow rotated his hips, slipping completely in as Ichigo adjusted.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," Grimmjow chanted, biting into the side of Ichigo's neck, "So tight, so perfect…"

Ichigo tightened his ass in warning. Really, a little talk was good, dirty talk was even better, but Ichigo was so hazed in lust he couldn't tolerate anymore, "Fuck me, Grimmjow!"

Grimmjow chuckled huskily, gaining his breath, before…


Ichigo could barely breathe, his screams grew higher and higher until his voice just cracked and he felt like he would choke on his own saliva. Grimmjow was relentless, pounding at a force that made Ichigo feel as if the man's oversized cock was going into his stomach.

If I was a woman, I'd already be pregnant.

"Fuh – oh- naaaaaah, Grimmjowwwwww!" Ichigo bellowed, meeting Grimmjow's thrusts, so close to the edge he couldn't do anything but scream bloody murder.

"Fuck me, yer a screamer," Grimmjow howled, beyond turned on. He never would've pegged Ichigo to be so vocal in the bedroom, but he was glad he'd been wrong. It was the hottest thing he'd ever heard, ever seen.

Which made him cum, and cum hard.

He kept fucking Ichigo until he felt his own cum begin to drip out of that perfect hole and started dripping along his hips, down his thighs. Fuck, there was so much.

Grimmjow rode out his orgasm, unable to comprehend anything else in the world as he tried to hold onto heaven, his hands bruising into Ichigo's hips.

When he finally gained enough sense, Grimmjow brought his hand beneath Ichigo's panting body, stroking his dick once, twice…

Ichigo cried out his release, collapsing into the sheets, heaving for air as Grimmjow flopped down on top of him, his now-soft cock still in Ichigo's dripping ass.

Neither spoke for minutes until Grimmjow shifted, pulling his spent cock out and watching Ichigo's ass for a moment.

He couldn't help it. He parted the red cheeks, watching his cum slide out slowly down the soft globes.

He licked his lips. Give him thirty seconds and he'd be hard again, he just knew it.

"Your ass looks amazing."

"It's amazingly sore," Ichigo corrected, wiggling his hips out of Grimmjow's grasp, but he just held on and slapped one of the cheeks. Ichigo moaned, too tired to fight.

"I think that was the best sex I've ever had."

"I think that was the best sex anyone has ever had," Grimmjow corrected, stretching up to place a kiss between Ichigo's shoulder blades, "That was earth-shattering."

"Soul searing."

"Universe crushing. New rule: you're not allowed to leave my bed. Ever. 'Kay?"

Ichigo hummed in contentment as he slid onto his side, pulling Grimmjow in for a sloppy, sincere kiss, "I think I more than like you."

"That's good."


11 A.M.

Ichigo dragged himself out of Grimmjow's shower, totally refreshed, his ass barely sore.

Good. He'd thought after a night like that, he'd be out of commission for a week.

Or two. Or three. Fuck, his ass actually was pretty tender, but he was a tough dude, and no way was he going to be able to weasel his way out of visiting his dad and sisters for the weekend ahead.

It was slightly sad. Ichigo didn't want to leave Grimmjow for the whole weekend when they'd just discovered each other.

Maybe it was moving too fast, but, at the moment, he was happy, so it didn't matter.

Ichigo wandered into the kitchen, hearing Grimmjow whistle along to an oldie, most definitely a Frank Sinatra tune.

Ichigo just stood there for a few moments, admiring the strong lines of Grimmjow's back. He was sporting blue boxers and an apron that said 'I Killed The Cook', his blue hair still damp from his shower before Ichigo's.

He'd wanted to shower together, but Grimmjow had declined, saying there was no way he was going to be able to leave the berry alone while washing, and that there was no way he could possibly get hard again for at least a few hours.

"Totally milked me dry, Ichi. You're sexy as all get-out, but fuck, you'd kill me."

Ichigo chuckled at the memory, making Grimmjow raise a brow at him before setting two plates of pancakes down for them to enjoy with some fresh fruit.

Ichigo didn't realize how hungry he was until he'd had a full stack of pancakes and two glasses of orange juice, not to mention a mug of hazelnut coffee, one of his favorites.

Yeah, him and Grimmjow were gonna be just fine.

As Ichigo was helping Grimmjow clean up the dishes (while making out. What? It's multitasking) the front door opened and slammed.

"Yo, old man! Yer not gonna believe this! Me and Di wanna wait 'til we're a lil' older, cuz, ya know, we wanna be mature about our relationship and stuff, but he lemme stick my fingers up his butt, and he totally loved it!" Jinta hollered, wandering into the kitchen, a backpack on his shoulder.

His face immediately turned as red as his hair as he noticed his father (who was practically naked) watching him while his math teacher blushed from on top of the counter, his legs locked around his (suddenly annoyed-looking) father.

"Oh, fergot he was here," Jinta said, looking away from them and clearing his throat, "Uh, I'll just be in my room. Don't mind me."

"U-uh Jinta, wait! It's not what it looks like!" Ichigo cried, watching as Jinta practically sprinted away.

"Wait! Come back! I wanna hear the rest of the story!" Grimmjow called, his voice echoing off of the large walls, "I'm proud of ya, kid!"

"Grimmjow!" Ichigo scolded, slapping his shoulders with his hands, trying to squirm out of Grimmjow's grasp, "He's already seen enough! Aren't you even a little bit embarrassed? He's probably freaking out in his room right now!"

Grimmjow shrugged, "What? My boy's becomin' a man, Ichigo. Shouldn't I revel in the joy of that?"

"You're a fucking pervert. He's not even fourteen yet! And you shouldn't be making out with me in your kitchen, you're barely dressed, and – stop rubbing my crotch!" Ichigo floundered, wondering how he could possibly be infatuated with this crazy-ass devil dad.

"Aw, come on, sensei, relax," Grimmjow said, kissing him quickly on the mouth, "Yer with me now. He's gonna have 'ta get used to it."

Ichigo sighed heavily, wrapping his arms around Grimmjow's shoulders, forehead resting on Grimmjow's, "You sure he's okay with this?"

"He's my kid, Ichi, not my dad. Even if he wasn't okay with it, which he is, I wouldn't let you leave."

Ichigo smiled at that, too fucking happy to do anything but continue to kiss his new…boyfriend? Lover? Soul mate?

Grimmjow broke the kiss, rubbing Ichigo's sides, "So, will you do me the honor of going out with me?"

"I'll have to think about it."

Grimmjow scowled, which made Ichigo laugh almost hysterically.

So that's where Jinta got his scowl.



Which is why I decided to do a short epilogue of all our lovely gay couples a few years in the future. I just couldn't leave these boys alone, so it should be out soon. –TPP

Extra Tidbits If You Were Curious About Random Stuff:

*p.s: I listen to pretty much everything, but I tend to stay away from pop, but seriously, I can't NOT belt Teenage Dream at the tops of my lungs when it comes on the radio: I didn't think even Grimmjow would be able to pass up that secret guilty pleasure. As for the Spice Girls, it came on when I was writing that scene (shuffle on my ipod for the win). And…uh…I think that's it. I wanted to make Gin really playful in this fic for some reason: in canon, he didn't really get a chance to show how goofy he can be, cuz he was too busy trying to play evil. Eh, well, I'd like to think this is more his personality when he's allowed to relax. (I, for one, thought it was super adorable). And…like I said, I'm in love with the idea of Urahara and Kenpachi. I think they're my OTP besides GrimmIchi now: I honestly believe their personalities are perfect for each other: eccentric genius meets violent/deadly/wisdom dude (I've watched all of Kenpachi's fights and read through them several times, and he ALWAYS has more than a few kernels of wisdom during, or after, a fight. I don't know why I have to defend him so much: he's extremely intelligent in his simplicity). I don't care what you guys think! I'm not ashamed! You can't stop their love!

*I said that 'calendar' thing to a girl I had a mad-bad crush on. She totally dug it, so I thought I'd throw it in here. Seriously: being upfront and honest with idiotic declarations (and 1 minute of courage) usually gets you farther then stalking or "waiting out for the perfect moment to declare your feelings". Unfortunately, we didn't work out, but it's a good memory. Our relationship was a lot like that, the interactions (without the man-sex, of course. We're girls. HAHAHA! She was super smart in math, still studies it, and I'm retarded in math and focused on art in high school, so maybe this is a little more personal then I actually intended.)