This is my first story. If you think anything could be done differently, I'd love to know how.

This is a modern day AU story of Grimmjow and Ichigo.


DISCLAIMER- I DON'T OWN BLEACH OR GRIMM'S FAIRY TALES (haha see that pun? It isn't actually relevant at all).


Ichigo Kurosaki held his phone away from his abused ear, scowl growing deeper and deeper. The twenty-four year old's father, Isshin, was on the other line, pleading with his son to come visit his apartment.

"ICHIII-GOO! Daddy wants to see his only son! How about tea, hmm? Or pizza! We could play catch outside, like father and son! Oh, Masaki would be so proud of our bonding!" Isshin preened, babbling on about Ichigo not being too busy to go visit his poor, sad, lonely father.

Much to Ichigo's dismay, the two had this conversation at least once a week.

Karin and Yuzu had both gone off to university, leaving Ichigo as a medical intern at Karakura's General Hospital. At the last family meeting they held, right before the twins left for school, it was unanimously voted that Isshin should move into an apartment to help cope with his impending loneliness (unanimously meaning that Karin and Ichigo bullied their father into agreeing, while Yuzu happily made dinner).

Unfortunately, getting an apartment on the busy side of town did nothing to alleviate Isshin's need for familial contact. So, he called up Ichigo to convince his darling son to come spend time with his papa.

A vein started to twitch somewhere on the intern's forehead as Isshin pleaded on the other end. Ichigo's breaking point was fast approaching, and his father seemed to sense the impending explosion. His voice grew shriller and shriller, surely breaking the orangette's speakers, when finally, Ichigo snapped.

"FINE. I'LL COME VISIT TONIGHT. JUST SHUT THE HELL UP, GOAT-FACE!" Slamming the phone shut, he stomped down the street. Like a modern day Moses, people parted in front of him, regarding his murderous aura with caution. One little boy pointed at Ichigo's retreating back and whispered,

"Mommy? Is he gonna hurt someone?" His mother, steering him in the opposite direction of the orange haired teen, replied gently,

"If he does, we'll find out tomorrow in the news."


Ichigo was pissed. Not only did he have to cancel the only date he'd had in, what, the last five years, he was going to spend the potential date-time with his father.

At said father's apartment.

Eating said father's appalling attempts at cooking.

Ichigo growled and slammed his fist into a wall, instantly regretting the action. The intern checked it over for broken bones or fractures, though doubting he would find any. He didn't uppercut the wall as hard as he could have. The punch was solely for the purpose of blowing off some steam. Besides, Ichigo wasn't heartless. He couldn't stay angry with his dad for only wanting to see him. Scolding himself lightly, Ichigo walked back down the street, choosing to stop at a familiar store along the way.

The shop was cutesy and quaint-looking, with a pleasant, "Urahara's Candy" painted on the sign, little lollipops making up some of the letters. The stretching rays of orange and gold in the sky contrasted magnificently with the magenta and light blue of the lettering. The scent of candy apples hung around the store like a sugar-coated net, and a tiny silver bell tinkled happily as a smiling Ichigo stepped through the doorway. Almost instantly, the shop's owner, Kisuke Urahara, approached him.

"It's so good to see you, Ichigo-san~" The older man's voice, although sounding from behind his fan, rang out. He wore his trademark green-striped hat with wooden clogs. In all honesty, the whole outfit was a ridiculous get-up. The attire had earned him a nickname from Ichigo: Hat-n-clogs.

It was no small wonder why Ichigo hadn't chosen a more creative career than practicing medicine.

"Hey, Hat-n-clogs. Listen, I'm going over to Dad's today, and I need some cookies. Do you have any?" Ichigo questioned, not really expecting a negative answer. Of course the man had cookies; he owned a sweets shop, for crying out loud. Urahara seemed to need to think the request over for a moment.

"Which cookies, hmm? The chocolate chip, the oatmeal raisin, the white chocolate macadamia? Which would Isshin like best? Ne, ne, I just can't decide!" The older man tapped a pale finger to his stubbly chin. Ichigo could feel his earlier temper rising. He did not need this today. After a little deliberation, Urahara exclaimed with an excited giggle,

"Ohoho, I've got it! Please stay here, Ichigo-san, I'll go get the cookies from the back room." With a wink and a snap of his fan, Kisuke Urahara walked over to the back room's door.

"Creep…" Ichigo muttered, looking at the over-stocked shelves, filled with cakes and chocolates and taffies. It wouldn't hurt to snoop around a little, see if he saw anything he wanted. After all, Ichigo loved chocolate.


Grimmjow Jeagerjaques lived his life by three extremely simple words.

Eat. Sleep. Fuck.

Rinse and repeat.

That was his code. Everything he did revolved around those key concepts, which gave him truly no boundaries at all.

He ate whatever he wanted, slept wherever he wanted, and fucked whomever he wanted.

"That's expired." translated to, "You think you're man enough to digest me?"

"This isn't comfy; you wouldn't like it." became "I stuffed bricks and angry internet cats into this couch cushion; even Wolverine's adamantium spine couldn't last an hour before it developed scoliosis. What makes you so cocky?"

"NO! I'm NOT gay!" transformed into "I'm not drunk enough, so if you could please buy me another drink while simultaneously unzipping my pants and slipping off my wedding ring, I would happily consent to a couple delightful rounds of intercourse later this evening."

Working for a decent salary at a candy store had never really been in the equation. One day, Grimmjow had been living the life, just taking it nice and easy.

Eating. Sleeping. Fucking.

The usual.

The next, some weird guy was handing him a job application, asking him to fill it out and bring it by a shop a couple blocks away. When asked why he was offering a job to a stranger in a Publix, the man mysteriously waved his fan and half-whispered in Grimmjow's ear,

"Your hair."

Now, this first altercation with his soon-to-be boss should have set off the slightly rusty warning bells in Grimmjow's head, but he ignored their insistent creaking. It's not that he didn't realize it; it was that he just didn't care.

"Wha' th' fuck 'bout my hair?" Grimmjow challenged, bristling slightly. However, he'd start to care if the giggling man next to him didn't tread lightly on his answer. If the creep made even one derogatory comment about Grimmjow's hair, he wouldn't hesitate to rip him a new asshole right where his bellybutton was.

"It's blue." The man had leaned in even closer, eyes gleaming.


"Children like blue hair." And, like cake at a Diabetes Anonymous convention, he vanished. A confused Grimmjow just looked at the man's retreating back, wooden clogs tapping on the tile. Fuckin' weirdo. In the end, he did drop by the store, just to check it out. Nothing official. He hadn't made a single commitment in his life yet; he didn't intend to start so soon. After only a quick glance around, however, Grimmjow decided his life could handle a change.

As the days wore on, Grimmjow came to enjoy working for the eccentric man. He earned a decent paycheck, could choose his own hours, and got free food. He even formed somewhat of a big brother type bond with Jinta, Urahara's ward and dishboy. The kid had crazy hair like Grimmjow's own, albeit a fiery red, with a hilarious temper to boot. Jinta was a riot when he was angry, and he usually took that anger out on Ururu, a timid little girl who helped Tessai with the inventory and shelving in the back and central rooms. They were a strange little family, the five of them.

One day, a couple of weeks after Grimmjow began working at the store as a dishboy with Jinta, Urahara decided to move Grimmjow up to manning the register. Although reasoning that staying dry in the front room couldn't possibly be as fun as getting into an all-out splash war with Jinta, he accepted. His boss put Grimmjow into effect immediately. The blue haired man had walked up to the register and opened a box of chocolate covered strawberries, his personal favorite. The day was slow going, so he got a lot of down time up at the front.

The bell tinkled, the first customer of the hour, and Grimmjow looked up. Almost immediately, a satisfied expression held his face hostage, canines glittering in the artificial lighting.

Who would have thought that, on his first day of working the register, Grimmjow would see the finest damn specimen of the male species he had seen in a long, long time?

Chocolate lava cake eyes, luscious, semi-full lips, and the pertest, tightest-looking ass that was practically stuffed into a pair of jeans. Grimmjow found his hand subconsciously searching his pockets for spare change, just so he could have a chance of bouncing a dime off that inviting ass. As the employee continued secretly checking out the kid, Grimmjow's blue eyes widened dramatically. No way.

No. Fucking. Way.

The kid's hair was orange. Not a warm, pumpkin orange, or even a golden sunset orange. No, his hair was more of a, "If-I-fell-in-the-street-people-would-avoid-running-me-over,-not-because-I'm-a-person-but-because-I-look-like-a-traffic-cone" shade of orange. Almost at once, Grimmjow felt his appraising glance turn into a feral grin. That hair was all-fucking-natural. Nobody in their right mind would dye their hair that neon shade.

Still grinning as he slunk around the corner over to the oblivious kid struggling for the top shelf in the fruit section, Grimmjow readied himself.

People with naturally unusual hair colors were intense bed partners.

After all, Grimmjow would know.


Not for the first time, Ichigo was thoroughly embarrassed of his height. The shelf was almost in reach, and if he went on his tippy toes-

"Can I help ya with tha'?" A voice purred in his ear. Against his will, Ichigo shivered. The voice was velvet covered barbed wire, and drizzled in chocolate. It promised dark pleasures and long, sweat filled nights. He bit back a small moan. Ichigo could practically feel the hard body hovering behind his, warm and sinewy. He could smell the musky, pine needle scent filling his nose, making his head spin and his heart race. Had it really been that long that he was getting turned on by a voice? Although, in his libido's defense, it was an undeniably attractive voice. Gods, and he hadn't even seen his face.

Belatedly, Ichigo realized that the mysterious voice had asked him a question.

"Y-yeah. Thanks." Ichigo breathed back. From the corner of his eye, a tanned, muscled arm snaked into view towards the top shelf.

"Which d'ya wan'?" A body pressed into his back, not enough to make Ichigo mind, really, but just enough to feel.

"The bananas, please." It was a miracle Ichigo hadn't passed out from lack of oxygen by the way he was panting.

"Oh? Yah like bananas?" As quick as a forest fire, Ichigo's face was in flames, matching his red hoodie almost perfectly.

"N-not like that. I just… um… I don't like the strawberry ones." Damn you, mouth, Ichigo ranted inside his mind. Stop stuttering like an idiot.

"I like th' bananas, too. Personally, I think tha' we should cover 'em in white chocolate. 'Lot more realistic, know wha' I mean?" Ichigo had to suck in a breath when all the blood flushing his face suddenly headed to other more… problematic places. The body had leaned in again, grabbing the chocolate dipped strawberries with his other hand. The way it rubbed its sculpted front all over Ichigo's sensitive back just wasn't fair.

"No, I don't think I do." Of course I fucking do.

"I could teach yah." Oh god, yes.

"Maybe some other day. I have plans tonight." What the FUCK, brain. Are you and mouth conspiring against my sex life?

"Really? Too bad. Y'know, I betchya'd look damn sexy all covered in white chocolate." Everything stopped.

And then Ichigo's temper woke up from its short-lived nap.

Ichigo turned around, about to chew the mysterious guy out, bedroom voice or no bedroom voice. No one talked to Ichigo Kurosaki like that and got away with it without at least one broken bone and some serious blood loss. The man was dead, for all he was worth. No amount for apologizing could save him now. With just one look up into those eyes, Ichigo knew he had lost, for as suddenly as it had appeared, Ichigo's temper vanished. Longing and lust quickly replaced temper and wrath. The man in front of him holding the two boxes was, to put it simply, a god. He was chiseled from gold and platinum and diamond, entirely made up of sharp edges and hard planes with a well-muscled chest and strong jawline. He looked untouchable with that positively predatory leer. The man was danger incarnate. But goddamn. There was one thing that really got Ichigo.

It was the blue.

Those blue-moon eyes, the ones that matched the voice perfectly. They were so blue, so purely and unarguably blue that they couldn't possibly be blue. Not anymore. They must have been some previously unknown color, an eighth addition to the rainbow. And his hair- styled and tousled to look like he had just had sex seconds before he came to assist Ichigo. It matched the man's eyes, matched like two socks lying in the dark.

It was an embarrassingly long time before Ichigo realized that those criminally blue eyes were trained on his lips, as his teeth abused them. He flushed again. The man's grin had morphed into a full-blown leer. Ichigo's inner masochist almost peed itself at the sight of those eyes challenging Ichigo, daring him to say whatever he was going to say before he turned around.

Before? Before this man, there was nothing. And now-

"Here're yer bananas. Sorry if they're kinda limp. No one's touched 'em fer a while now." The lopsided grin returned, splitting his face open, as Ichigo's trademark scowl fell back into place.

"Please stop doing that." If possible, the grin grew wider. Ichigo had a fleeting thought that that man's face might break if it got any bigger.

"Doin' wha'?" With a well aimed glare, Ichigo snatched the bananas away and started walking towards the other side of the store, to the cash register.

"Making… making unnecessary comments." He replied lamely as Grimmjow followed him to the register. Ichigo plopped the box down with a sense of finality, and anxiously glanced at the door to the back room. Where was that no-good Hat-n-Clogs?

"I'm jus' makin' small talk with a payin' customer." Ichigo's head snapped up as the man walked around the counter to the opposite side.

"You work here? Since when?" Grimmjow opened his mouth to answer, revealing teeth that were too sharp to be deemed normal, when Urahara burst out of the back room, holding a box with a pink ribbon on it in one hand and a small, wicker basket in the other.

"Grimmjow-kun has worked here for a couple weeks now, Ichigo-san. Grimmjow-kun, meet Ichigo Kurosaki. I am a good friend of his father's. Ichigo-san, meet Grimmjow Jeagerjaques." The blonde man-child leaned in dramatically towards Ichigo and spoke as if he were reading the Quibbler.

"His hair is blue." Ichigo snorted. Yeah, he'd noticed.

He'd also noticed Grimmjow leaning onto the counter with a terrifyingly amused look on his face. The corded muscles rippled at the small action, and Ichigo sighed inwardly.

"Ichigo, huh? I thought ya hated berries?" Grimmjow teased, reveling in the flush coming back full-force to Ichigo's face. He loved that blush. It was so fucking cute. After an indignant squeak of, "I'm not a berry!", Ichigo turned to Urahara.

"Do you have the cookies or not? I need to leave if I want to get there on time." Urahara glanced outside, considering Ichigo's words. The sky had indeed turned dark; how long did he spend searching for those cookies? Realizing by the helpful hints on Ichigo's face that he was spending too much time thinking over the question, brought his brain-train back to the present…what did he have to do again? Oh yes: the cookies!

"But of course I have the cookies, Ichigo-san! Here, I even gave you a complimentary basket to carry them in!" Ichigo scowled as the older man beamed. While the exchange was going on, Grimmjow undid the fastening on the box of chocolate covered strawberries and proceeded to languidly suck the chocolate off of one. Why not give a good show? Grimmjow had plenty of experience at sucking, as he so graciously demonstrated. Hearing the obscene slurping sounds, Ichigo did a double-take, and then swallowed. Hard. A pink tongue shot out from Grimmjow's mouth, twirling around the berry. Those put-blue-to-shame eyes laughed at him as Ichigo's Adam's apple bobbed.


He needed to leave, before things got messy.

As Ichigo fished through his wallet for money, Grimmjow straightened up, already finished with the strawberry. Well, the fruit, anyway. He grabbed his sleek leather jacket from the coat rack behind the counter.

"Hey, boss." Urahara looked up from fussing with the bow as Ichigo tried to smack his hand away.

"I think I'mma head out. Got stuff ta do." He leered down at Ichigo.

"Hey, Berry." This ought'a get'm riled up.

"Don't call me that." Ichigo snapped automatically. The oblivious intern didn't even see the blue-haired man lean in until his chocolatey breath ghosted over Ichigo's slowly reddening face.

"I could give ya a ride, if ya want." As much as Ichigo wanted to take up the offer, he knew he couldn't. Isshin would ask too many questions if he arrived at his apartment with a total stranger. And a hot one, at that.

"No thanks. I can get there on my own." Thankfully Ichigo's blush had subsided. Gimmjow stared dead into Ichigo's eyes.

"The woods're dark at night, Lil' Red. Ya need ta watch yer back, or th' Big Bad Wolf might come find ya." As Ichigo watched his leather-clad retreating back, Grimmjow made one more comment.

"An' I don' wantcha eaten up jus' yet, Lil' Red. Tha's my job."

And with the roar of a motorcycle engine, Grimmjow left the store, the only things signifying he was ever there the smell of exhaust and a plethora of promises.


Ichigo sputtered as the man drove away, not noticing Urahara's eyes glinting from under the hat. The poor kid just stood there, rooted to the spot. The older man decided to give him a little push, so he wouldn't be late to dinner.

"Ne, ne, Ichigo-san. Don't you have to go soon? Gimmjow-kun was right; it is dark outside now…" Too distracted by thoughts of Grimmjow, Ichigo just grabbed a random wad of bills and threw them on the counter. He then pulled his hood up, reluctantly grabbed the wicker basket and chocolate bananas, and walked out of the store and onto the street.

He spent the majority of the walk to his father's flat thinking about the blue-haired man. He was definitely hitting on me, right? No one acts like that unless they mean it, Ichigo thought, believing that Grimmjow got some sick, perverse pleasure out of mentally torturing him. Replaying the last bit of their conversation only confirmed his theory.

"An' I don' wantcha eaten up jus' yet, Lil' Red. Tha's my job." Lil' Red, huh? Who the hell did he think he was, calling Ichigo "Lil' Red"? And what was that all about, the whole forest metaphor Grimmjow had going on? The woods are dark? What?

As if on cue, the street light above Ichigo flickered out, leaving him in total blackness. He quickened his walk as his mind warred. The practical, sensible side with a doctorate on the way argued that darkness was nothing to fear, and no unnecessary effort should be wasted on evading it. The other, more primal side was in near hysterics, because it seemed that Grimmjow's husked prophecy was coming true. The Big Bad Wolf was coming to eat him, and there was nothing that could be done except to get out of the "woods".

As Ichigo arrived at the apartment building, he pulled off his hood and began to climb the stairs to the 6th floor. The elevator had broken last month, and no one cared enough to call in a repairman yet.

His small phone buzzed when Ichigo finally reached 6C, signifying a text message. He was about to check it when something tugged in his gut. His brown eyes narrowed. Something wasn't right about the door. It was… what was it about the door? Those caramel eyes widened like a mouth at the dentist when he saw it. The door.

It wasn't locked.

Isshin always locked his door, being both paranoid and a father.

Ichigo dropped into a low stance and opened the door silently. He needed to scope out the apartment. From the outside, the living room looked bare and lowly lit. Ichigo heard noise coming from a room farther down the dark hallway to his right, text message lying forgotten. Ichigo had bigger things to worry about.

There was an intruder in the apartment.


Grimmjow had the best orgasm thus far in his life while he showered. Thoughts of orange hair and perky ass cheeks filled his mind's eye. Goddamn, when he finally had the berry… he sighed. The kid was into him, he could tell.

It was only a matter of time and how much alcohol Ichigo could manage.

Humming to himself lightly as he turned off the showerhead, Grimmjow turned on his music in his bedroom. A quiet "Sleeping At Last" song began playing, the soft piano and high voice soothing. He loved his remote control CD player.

Grimmjow had just stepped out of the bathroom when he heard footsteps on the hardwood in his kitchen area. Although clad in only a towel, he decided to go check it out. He could easily take on any pansy-ass burglar, boxers or no boxers.

The blue haired man stuck to the shadows, watching someone cautiously step along the floor, banging his foot against the cabinet. A soft curse floated over to Grimmjow's ears.

"Why is it so dark in here?" Grimmjow started grinning. He knew that voice.

"Th' better ta see ya with, my dear."

The intruder stopped moving for a second, and then its silhouette shifted into an even lower crouch, feeling its way across the wall straight towards Grimmjow. He silently moved out of the way, the burglar's eyesight not as accustomed as Grimmjow's to darkness. The blue-haired man turned himself so that he was to the left of the intruder, who began to speak, presumably to himself, in a harsh whisper.

"Why isn't there furniture where the furniture is supposed to be?" Grimmjow frowned. Had the trespasser already been here once before?

"Th' better ta trap ya with, my dear." By the time the burglar swung around and headed towards Grimmjow's voice, the half naked tenant had taken up another position.

Right behind the clearly confused kid.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're right behind …" Grimmjow just grinned as realization dawned on the intern. Quickly turning him around and slamming him into a wall, Grimmjow purred into Ichigo's ear,

"Isn't tha' th' best position ta fuck ya in, my dear?"


Well, Ichigo was stuck.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard, wet, blue haired place.

Ichigo just stared out into those blue eyes, barley visible in the darkness. His breathing had increased, and his palms were splayed out on the wall behind him. He couldn't think, couldn't do anything but get even more turned on by the whole situation. Hell, Ichigo was so ready for a good fuck that he didn't even bat an eyelash when realizing that Grimmjow, practically a stranger, was taking showers in his dad's apartment.

Grimmjow's mouth descended upon Ichigo's and, for the second time that day, everything stopped. And then, quite suddenly, everything sped up too quickly, like watching someone you know fall off of a rollercoaster.

The hot, insistent mouth dominated his, the kiss rough and needy and tasting vaguely of spearmint. Something moist swiped at Ichigo's lips, and he moaned, parting them. After sucking Ichigo's tongue for a while, making the smaller male squirm in his pants, Grimmjow stood up a little. He gazed at the sight. Ichigo was flushed and panting heavily, eyes glossed over with desire and shining out from the darkness. A small line of spittle connected their mouths, and, when Ichigo noticed, he moaned again, licking at the spot with the tip of his tongue.

Fucking hell.

Grimmjow began to suck on a tanned neck, eliciting another groan from the abused lips.

"Ngh..ahh..Gr-Gri…" Nimble fingers threaded into wet blue haired, pulling on the roots.

"I wonder, Berry, how th' hell do ya taste so sweet. Is it all th' white chocolate ya got in ya?" At the mention of white chocolate, Grimmjow unceremoniously shoved his knee up against the orange hair's erection. Ichigo cried out at how goddamn good it felt to finally be touched.

Even if it was by a kneecap.

Ichigo began to rock forward and back on the knee, bringing him closer and closer. He could probably come just by riding Grimmjow's knee. The intern squealed and moaned when Grimmjow lifted his shirt to pinch a taut nipple. He rolled it in his fingers, pulling and twisting and heightening the entire experience for Ichigo. And if that wasn't enough, Grimmjow fucking suckling like a baby pig on the other nipple was.

Ichigo could feel his balls tighten, that coil in his gut just winding and winding and winding. All the while, he had been making embarrassing groans and mewls, Grimmjow growling when he clutched his slowly drying scalp a little too tight.

"Gri-ah, fuck! Grimmjow, s-s-sto-op. I'm gonna- guh- come… unh… hah…"

"Bedroom, then?" Grimmjow had pulled back, watching Ichigo bounce on his knee. Jesus, the sight was so fucking hot.

"Yesss- Ngh!" Ichigo hissed, then groaned as Grimmjow wrapped lean legs around his bare torso. They fit together perfectly. While holding him, Grimmjow decided to use the opportunity to grope the berry's ass, making him squirm and pull the blue haired man in for a charged kiss.

Although they made it into the bedroom in one piece, Ichigo's clothing did not. His ripped shirt was crumpled up in the hallway, tattered and unusable, while his pants and underwear were currently being shredded by the Devil himself, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

Grimmjow had thrown Ichigo on his back, pulling him up for another searing kiss as he all but tore the jeans in two. The only thing that the smaller man could do was hope that Grimmjow would hurry the hell up. He needed to come. Grimmjow chuckled; a dark sexy sound that reverberated in Ichigo's crotch, making his neglected member twitch in anticipation.

"Ya'll come, don' worry Ichi." Ichigo flushed deeply. He'd said that out loud? Shit.

Finally, with only a little bit of effort, Grimmjow got Ichigo's pants off. Commandingly, he told Ichigo to flip over.

"W-wait." Ichigo panted, staring straight at Grimmjow's towel, which was in danger of falling off at any moment. "Can I… can I see it?" Grimmjow leaned down to kiss the berry senseless again.

"Sure." Grimmjow straightened up and began to slowly pull his towel off. He teased Ichigo with daggers for hipbones and glistening, tanned skin. Ichigo watched dutifully, drinking in the sight. Finally, with a flourish, Grimmjow pulled the tenting towel off. Ichigo's jaw dropped.

Well, fuck.

How that was going to fit anywhere was anyone's guess.

Crawling on all fours over to Grimmjow, Ichigo stared at it. Standing proudly at ten inches long, with a blooming mushroom top and an angry, pulsating vein on the underside, Grimmjow's thick, dripping cock looked beautiful to Ichigo's sex-muddled brain. In fact, it looked good enough to eat. Grimmjow's arrogant, "Well, Ichi, it ain't gonna suck itself," was meant as a joke, but Ichigo devoted himself whole-heartedly to the task. Sucking the head experimentally, he found that he liked the taste. So, being the cock-glutton he was, Ichigo fit as much as he could into his mouth, and what wouldn't fit he pumped with vigor.

This time around, Grimmjow's fingers wound themselves through Ichigo's hair. The intern let that glorious cock fuck his face, humming and relaxing his throat while Grimmjow cursed and growled above him, bucking into the heat.

His mouth is fuckin' heaven, Grimmjow thought as he watched Ichigo concentrate on sucking, not even bothering to still his hips. The caramel eyes had closed, and his orange hair hung limply in his face. Although he always enjoyed a good blowjob, Grimmjow had another thing he wanted to accomplish before the end of the night. Quickly leaning over and grabbing lube from his bedside table, he slicked up three fingers. Ichigo, who was so into deep throating the majority of Grimmjow, didn't even notice the shift in weight.

He did, however, notice a finger rubbing lazily against his asshole.

At that point, Ichigo didn't think it would be possible to be turned on more in his life. He was so close to coming, he could almost taste it. The giant cock was throbbing, stretching his jaw wide open. His own package- which truly wasn't anything to be ashamed of, either- occasionally brushed against the cool sheets. He was so rock hard that Medusa might have given him head beforehand. Aside from the bedding, the most action it had gotten all night was from a kneecap. It quivered violently with the need to release. Ichigo idly wondered if Grimmjow was going to do anything with his finger, instead of just rubbi-

Godfuckingdammitholyshitfuck balls.


Grimmjow pumped two of his fingers into the tight heat, stretching the twitching hole. He could feel Ichigo choking on his cock, as he pulled back with a pop from the head.

"Bas-anh… hah, a- bastard. You could have- holy fuck sauce- warned me-e-e." Ichigo tried to speak without the extra noises, he really did.

Grimmjow just winked down at the mob of orange hair, reaching deeper into the tight hole while scissoring his fingers. Ichigo still made those noises, content to only pump the other man instead of suck him. Suddenly, as Grimmjow's fingers ghosted over a gland deep inside Ichigo, a cry rang out. He was so fucking close to losing it. The blue haired man grinned.

"Found'ya." And with a vicious thrust, he rammed into Ichigo's prostate gland.

Pleasure exploded up and down Ichigo's back as his orgasm was ripped from him. He sobbed into the sheets, hands shaking after letting go of Grimmjow's still-rigid dick. White exploded into his eyes, and Ichigo's lungs forgot to breath. The contractions wracked his lean form as he shook and teetered on the verge of unconsciousness. Whether from pleasure or lack of oxygen, he wasn't sure. When his body remembered what air tasted like, it took in a shaky breath, and even more contractions wracked his body. Ichigo was flying high in the blue of Grimmjow's eyes, of his hair, of his voice, blue everywhere, so much of it. It smelled so good, too. Musky, dark, animalistic.

Kind of like the woods.

The smell made Ichigo vaguely self-aware of his body again. He realized that the blue he had been seeing was not, in fact Grimmjow's eyes, but rather his pubic hair, and that he fell face first on top of Grimmjow's dick in the throes of his bone-shattering orgasm. Ichigo could feel the length sliding against his skin. Even though he had just came, Ichigo grinned lazily at the majestic organ in a lust-clouded haze. Grimmjow wouldn't mind another go, right? Ichigo thought, mouth closing over Grimmjow's cock once again.

During Ichigo's climax, Grimmjow shoved two more fingers into his ass, stretching the spasming cavern out. After Ichigo had returned to sucking his dick, Grimmjow pulled his fingers out. The smaller male whined at the loss of fullness.

"Turn 'round," Grimmjow commanded. He made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat when Ichigo either ignored him, or was too busy fondling his balls to hear.

"I said," Grimmjow growled, grabbing ahold of orange hair and pulling it upwards, "ta turn 'round." Ichigo's eyes were unfocused and glazed; his only reply was a small moan and a twitch in his hardening cock. Grimmjow quickly took the berry's lips, ravaging the used mouth, tasting himself on the tongue. Pulling away, Grimmjow repeated himself for a third and final time.

Ichigo was only too happy to oblige.

Watching Ichigo rest his head on his forearms and stick his tight lil' ass in the air was probably the most erotic scene Grimmjow had ever seen. He couldn't wait, not after watching Ichigo rock back, trying to find some sort of friction. Grimmjow didn't even put on lube before he spread those reddened cheeks and hit home in one thrust. Ichigo had sucked it for long enough.

When Grimmjow plowed into Ichigo's ass, they both thought that they'd died and gone to heaven. Grimmjow filled him so incredibly well, stretching his walls and reaching deep within the folds, while Ichigo was the tightest, hottest, most fuckin' awesome ass he'd ever fucked.

"Goddamn, Ichi. Yer so fuckin' sexy. I can' wait ta fuck ya again." Grimmjow pulled out slowly, watching in fascination as Ichigo's hole tried to swallow him up. Grimmjow swallowed harshly as his patience began to run as thin as a supermodel. Ichigo's ass actually pulled out, and the berry didn't tell anyone? Selfish. Watching it greedily pull his cock back in was so alluring that Grimmjow was ready to come, just like that.

"Unghh… Grimmm…ah, shi-it. Fas-faster. Please." Ichigo pleaded. Again. He was so close again. That cock filled him and filled him, getting deeper with each thrust. Soon it would hit his-

"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT. SHIT FUCK FUCKS." Ichigo arched his back as the pleasure zinged up his spine, and back down to his weeping cock. Grimmjow clenched his jaw as sweat trickled down his brow. Watching Ichigo completely lose it made him buck his hips faster, fighting to keep his release at bay.

Grimmjow reached a hand down to Ichigo's cock, and began to pump it. The cussing intensified and jumbled together as the thrusts increased. They were both so fucking close. Grimmjow leaned down and whispered into Ichigo's ear, licking the shell.

"Fuck, Ichi. So hot, so good. Yer lovin' it, gettin' fucked into my mattress. Ya came without me even touchin' ya, fuckin' perv. Yer so fuckin' tight, asshole pullin' out like tha'. Did ya know ya pull out? Hmm, Ichi?" For good measure, Grimmjow slapped Ichigo's ass. That was it for the orange haired man. With Grimmjow's hand on his cock, a cock in his ass, and the stinging sensation from the slap, Ichigo came. He convulsed, clenching around Grimmjow, shooting his seed into the bedspread. Tears squeezed themselves out of his shut eyes, and he couldn't breath. There was no air. He croaked, throat tightening.

Grimmjow felt Ichigo grip his cock like a fiend as the kid came. Growling and biting Ichigo's shoulder, he bucked once, twice, and then shot his seed straight into Ichigo's prostate. That seemed to be the push for Ichigo's throat, because it abruptly opened, and Ichigo screamed at the contractions and pleasure and pain and feeling and heat rolling around in his body.

The two collapsed a messy tangle of arms and legs. After a good bit of shifting, mostly on Grimmjow's part because Ichigo refused to move, the two laid facing the wall. Grimmjow spooned a content and sated Ichigo. The two rested in peace for a while, before Ichigo spoke up.

"Hey Grimm?"


"Why are you in my dad's apartment?" At this, Grimmjow burst out laughing. Ichigo rolled over so he could face his new lover.

"What's so funny?"

"Isshin's yer dad? Ahahahaha, holy fuck, I'm cryin'. Shit, this is hilarious." Ichigo paled a little.

"Yeah, Isshin's my dad. Why?"

"He sold me this apartmen' yesterday, and moved out earlier. Did he not tell ya?"

Well, shit.

Ichigo flushed suddenly and sat up, wincing at the pain in his lower back. A little worried at the sudden change in Ichigo's demeanor, Grimmjow sat up too.

"I… I think he texted me when I first got here. But I didn't check my phone, because I thought that there was an intruder." Grimmjow snorted and Ichigo looked at him questioningly.

"There was an intruder."

"What? Where? Is he still here?" Ichigo looked around hurriedly.

"Yeah, fucktard. Yer th' intruder. Ya intruded in my home." Ichigo flushed again and demanded that Grimmjow go get his phone. The blue haired man was about to ask why his lover couldn't go get it, when he remembered that they'd just had hot, monkey sex.

Retrieving the phone from the torn pants, he tossed it to Ichigo. He had one new message.



Hello Ichigo! I forgot to tell you earlier, I bought another apartment. Please come to the apartment building on the street opposite the clinic. I will be waiting for you 3 Daddy

Well, double shit.

"What possible excuse is there for missing dinner with him?" Ichigo dropped his head in his hands, groaning.

"Well, jus' tell him tha' ya were spendin' quality time with yer boyfriend." An arm snaked around Ichigo's waist. Boyfriend?


"Yup. 'Course, tell'm in th' morning. 'M tired." Grimmjow pulled a squeaking Ichigo up against his chest, resting his head on the soft orange hair. Ichigo closed his eyes, smiling softly.



Ok, so that was my first story.

Reviews are nice. I like getting them. So leave them, because they make me happy. A happy me means more stories.

Thanks for reading!- Allie