Here it is! I finished editing... there wasn't much to change ;p I just wanted to add a potential twist for later! Okay! The first chapter of Hacking My Heart is now posted! XD I hope you enjoy it! Don't forget, you choose the next update! It's between Demon (many more) and Hacking (2 more). As always, first review with the request gets what they want. =) BTW, I'm not having Shiro in this fic... but I may give Ichigo a split personality! =D Can't leave him out entirely ;p
Shiro: Damn right! I make these stories! D=
Ichi: Shut up, Shiro. *sighs*
Grimm: Don't take it personally, he's just trying to hide the fact he's itching for this posting! =3
Ichi: Not at all... just no. Okay, Grimm? Just forget it. =(
Vae: I agree with Grimmjow! =D
Ichi: Traitor! DX
The night is quiet, still, and few people navigate the streets. Ichigo Kurosaki is on a mission, darting through the streets as he tails the man responsible for at least five murders. He's a private investigator hired by the FBI and the local police department more often than not, his view on life so out-of-the-box that he can pick up on thousands of clues way faster than those employed by the state. It's so unexpected that people have begun to call him a psychic, though he denies the statement constantly. He's a beautiful male, something he's used to his advantage many times over, and he's smarter than nearly everyone with the same thought process as a criminal when need be. Right now, he's five steps ahead of the FBI. He had sent them a message to keep them updated, yet he's losing his target fast and they're still nowhere to be found.
His heart hammers in his chest as he's led to the black light district, whore houses and nightclubs lining the streets as women stand on corners enticingly. There are bars scattered throughout the area, drunken men staggering from the entryways as they send wolfish whistles toward the scantily clad women… and Ichigo himself. He rolls his amber eyes in disgust, cutting into an alley and stilling. His target stands right before him, lips twisted in a sickening grin as they turn malicious eyes onto the one following them.
"You've got some nerve, sweetheart," they comment. "Don't you know this is a nasty place to be at night? You could be found in a dark alley… raped and murdered."
"Just like your other victims, I'm sure," he scoffs. "The only difference is… I'm a male."
"Damn… looks like I don't get to have fun after all," the other sighs. "I'll just have to kill you, hope you don't mind. I favor women over overly feminine men."
"You're gonna wish you hadn't said that!" Ichigo hisses. "I won't stand for such insults from a piece of shit like you."
Before he can leap headlong into a battle, he catches the movement at his side… he's surrounded. They rush him, all fists and feet. Ichigo does his best to weave between blows, managing an impressive display of street fighting before the first hit lands. He gasps in pain, staggering to the side and ducking below a high roundhouse. A door opens behind them; most likely someone stepping out of a club for a bit of fresh air, and a hand roughly grabs the orange haired teen from behind. He's yanked backward, nothing more than a yelp of surprise leaving his lips as the door is slammed shut before him. It's the type to lock on the outside, only able to open if someone does so from within, so Ichigo doesn't have to worry about the others following… and he got a very good look at his attackers. It's a plus, but it isn't the man he had targeted and it pisses him off.
"What the hell were you thinking!" he snaps.
"I was thinking that was a fucking horrible time to want some fresh air."
The voice is seductive and humored, like silk on a blade filled with promises of sinful experiences, and Ichigo can't help that his mouth goes dry. He turns to see the owner of that voice, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight before him. The man is tall, about 6'1", and his hair is a shocking sky blue styled in perfectly imperfect spikes. It gives him the air of one that's just gotten out of bed after a stimulating bout of sex, something that has Ichigo heating up in all the right ways. His build is muscular, more feline than that of a bulky weightlifter, and his eyes are a hypnotic shade of cyan. He's dressed in a tight black tee, a leather jacket with silver studs littering it, and a pair of rather tight black jeans. A feral grin spreads along thin lips as the other notes the attention, a chuckle rumbling from his chest like a purr.
"See something you like? Because I certainly do," he comments cockily.
Ichigo stands at 5'9", his hair spiked but long enough to style into a windblown look. He graduated high school very early and got through college on a swimming scholarship, so his body is lithe in its muscularity. He seems more badass than egghead, always fighting and loving every second of it, so he garners a lot of unwanted attention in that area. He grew up a punk and that's all he sees himself as, which makes him extremely modest of his triumphs. Ichigo was in a hurry to leave, so he's wearing nothing more than a crimson tee and blue jeans.
"I have to go," he huffs. "I was actually doing something important when you abducted me."
"Abducted you?" the stranger snorts derisively. "Is that what you call it? I'm seeing it more as saving your tight little ass from getting beaten."
Ichigo rolls his eyes and moves for the door, pushing it open to see the FBI rushing in. The men in the alley are shouting and running off, yet they're caught in no time at all. Ichigo is beyond pissed, marching up to the suit that hired him and laying a brutal punch on his jaw.
"What the fuck was that?" he snarls. "I called your ass two hours ago!"
"We had to be sure it was the right guy."
"My ass you did! I am so never helping you again!" Ichigo snaps. "Next time you guys need assistance, send someone I can trust to have my back!"
A redhead walks up to him with a smirk, clapping him on the back as he usually does. Renji was the one that got Ichigo into the FBI circle in the first place, always one for chatter and bragging up his best friend. They've known one another since they were five, so he loves to talk about the little genius frequently. It was a case with a dangerous terrorist that his supervisor overheard his bragging, calling him in to question the redhead about Ichigo. Where they took two months to dig up the smallest clue as to their enemy, Ichigo took two weeks to catch them. They've kept him on speed dial since, but this time sent another to deal with him. The orange haired male prefers dealing with Byakuya Kuchiki, the head of the FBI, but he was sick and the one in charge sent a man named Mayuri in his stead.
"Why don't you head into the club and relax," his pal suggests. "You need to get laid anyway, man. I told you two months ago to move on, that guy you're dating needs to go."
"I know," he sighs forlornly. "I just… he seems such a nice guy."
"Ichigo, I know you like him… but it isn't fair to let him continue with this farce of a relationship. Have some fun tonight, maybe you'll find a reason to let him go."
"I'll deal with it later," he growls.
"You deal with it now! Go on, my treat."
"… Well… if you're buying, I can't see why not."
Renji laughs once more, pushing Ichigo toward the still open back door and slipping a wad of cash into his pocket. He doesn't normally indulge in alcohol, yet tonight is a night Ichigo's willing to let loose. It's been a long time since he drank himself stupid.
The air within the club smells like smoke and alcohol, but the hallway reeks of puke and stale sex from the many private rooms that line it. Ichigo is alone here, as Renji needed to escort their catch back to the office, yet there's someone standing at the end of the hall he doubts will leave him alone tonight.
"Well, well… did you miss me?" the stranger grins.
"Not in the least."
"Awe, don't be that way. I'm a good time, you know… You look like you could use one."
"I don't spend my money on whores," Ichigo scoffs blandly.
"Ouch. That hurt. You don't pull the punches, do you?" the man frowns dejectedly. "I think I felt claw with that one."
"What do you want?"
"A name would be a nice start, followed by a dance, possibly a drink… maybe dinner?"
"I don't negotiate with bad boys," Ichigo decides seriously. "Try another feminine looking male, you might have more luck out on the streets… they're swarming with prostitutes down on their luck."
The stranger laughs, a barking sort of laugh that whispers of a love of life and the knowledge of how to enjoy it. Ichigo finds himself smirking; quickly banishing the expression with a mild sense of horror… he's never been so quick to smile at someone before. It usually takes a guy at least three weeks to get him out on the first date, two months to get in his pants, but this man… he's good. His personality is like a magnet, a flame whereas Ichigo is the moth. A little closer and the orangette will go up in a blaze. He quickly retreats into the crowd, his heart pounding like a rabbit stalked by a wolf. He remembers his current boyfriend, remembers how perfect he seems… remembers the cold sheets every morning and the forced smiles between them every night. He can't let go, though, can't seem to move on.
The night is annoying at best, drinking himself stupid not even coming close to soothing his irritation from the case. As he leaves the club, eager to put all those groping hands behind him, he finds himself yanked into the alley he was saved from earlier. Ichigo gasps as he's punched hard in the gut, his drunken body easily pinned against a wall. His attacker uses a belt to lock his hands behind his back, Ichigo too stunned to attempt calling out… until thick arms wrap around his waist and rough hands fumble with his jeans.
"S-son of a bitch!" he snaps in a slur. "Get the f-fuck off a me!"
"Because of you, my boss and over half our gang were locked up tonight! I'm gonna make you pay… in every possible way I can think of," he hisses as the smell of alcohol gags Ichigo. "Try not to pass out; I'm not planning on stopping for a long while."
Ichigo jerks away from him, growling in anger and berating himself for letting down his guard. He was so sure the FBI got the whole group, but apparently he was wrong. If the orangette gets away from this, he's so gonna kill Mayuri! At least he's too drunk to remember this. Just as Ichigo's pants are pushed down to mid-hip, the thug behind him freezes and the perceptive investigator can tell it's out of fear even through his alcohol induced haze.
"Now, is that any way to treat a pretty bitch?" a familiar voice comments arrogantly.
"This has nothing to do with you, Jaegerjaques!"
"Ah, but it does. You see… that's my bitch," the stranger growls out before his tone changes to a lighter and more playful one. "Did you get enough fresh air, honey?"
"… Yeah," Ichigo mutters if only to get away from his would-be rapist. "I wanna… g-go home now."
"Great, you hear that? Now step away from my bitch… before I pull the trigger."
Ichigo's amber eyes widen at the comment, his breath caught in his lungs as those arms immediately remove themselves from him. He's yanked back by the man, Jaegerjaques, his own hands fumbling to pull up his pants once they're free of their binding. Jaegerjaques is pressing something to the back of the man's head, leading him with it before pushing him forward.
"Start running and pray I don't get trigger happy before you get out of my sight," he snarls. "If I ever find you near my bitch again… I won't be as merciful."
Without thought, the thug runs off. He trips over some garbage bags and a couple metal bins, yet they hardly seem to slow down his escape. Once he's gone, Ichigo turns to take in his savior. He notes immediately that the 'gun' is nothing more than a piece of metal that resembles the barrel of one.
"Yer f-fuckin' insane," he slurs. "What would ya h-have done… if he didn' listen?"
"I would've kicked his ass," the man shrugs. "It shouldn't have been too difficult."
"Arrogant a-asshole," Ichigo hisses. "Who the h-hell do ya think ya are… anyway?"
"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques," he grins wildly. "And you're fine little ass would be?"
"So not inta ya," the orange haired male comments with a hiccup. "Thanks fer the help, but I have ta go now."
He starts to walk away with a sway, yet Grimmjow hurries to his side. The other has a lazy gait, a slight slouch in his badass appearance that indicates he hasn't a care in the world. It irritates Ichigo further, as he's always been too stressed to have such an outlook on life. He doesn't say anything about Grimmjow's presence, hoping it serves as confirmation to the thug that likely followed them, yet he doesn't allow the hand that brushes his.
"I'm not lookin'… fer a partner," Ichigo snaps.
"But I am. Come on, every knight in shining armor deserves a kiss from their damsel in distress," he teases. "Where's mine?"
Ichigo blushes horribly, quickening his footsteps as he attempts to break away from the other. Grimmjow manages to keep his pace, a feral grin on his lips as he waits for the other to stumble. Ichigo stops near his apartment building, sending the man he just met a wary glance with an undertone of lust he simply can't hide in his drunken state.
"That's my place," he murmurs. "Thanks fer… walkin' me."
"No problem," Grimmjow chuckles. "Too bad we didn't hit it off a bit better; I would've liked to warm your bed tonight."
Ichigo shivers at the sultry tone, a large part of him throwing caution to the wind and demanding he give in to his lust. He debates it, wanting to find some reason to let go of his boyfriend… the boyfriend that hasn't stayed over in three weeks. This guy's easy on the eyes, has a nice personality Ichigo could grow to like, and he's the one offering the night of fun.
"It's the alcohol," Ichigo determines. "Come on. If ya steal anythin' from me, I'll… fuckin' kill ya!"
"I'm many things, but a thief isn't one of them," Grimmjow smirks. "Fortunately for you, sex god happens to be my forte."
Ichigo rolls his eyes and guides Grimmjow to his building, growing more and more excited as they come closer to his flat. Grimmjow is quiet on the way there, waiting until they're in the apartment and the door is closed to push Ichigo against the mahogany wood. He captures pink lips with his own, sucking on the smaller male's bottom lip and delighting in the moan. It's been so long since Ichigo had sex and he's finding himself falling deeper into it far easier than usual thanks to the alcohol. His hands press against Grimmjow's chest, stepping into him if only to feel the rest of him along his own frame. Grimmjow lets his hands drop to Ichigo's ass, lifting him carefully as long legs wrap around his waist automatically.
"Where's the bedroom?" Grimmjow breathes out inches from Ichigo's lips.
"In the back," Ichigo answers.
He's carried toward a short hall, the orange haired male eagerly kissing his partner as his fingers twine in blue hair. Grimmjow tosses the other onto the plush bed once they reach it, immediately shedding his shirt and pants before looking pointedly at the uke watching him. It takes a moment, the other getting tangled and breaking out in giggles, yet Ichigo manages to do the same. He's pushed back onto the bed and Grimmjow lays atop him, forcing him into another heated kiss as his tongue coaxes Ichigo's into a playful battle.
Boxers are tossed aside, Grimmjow using spit to stretch Ichigo. Granted he could've done so better, but his engorged cock is beginning to hurt. Besides, it's not like his inebriated partner will care until morning. Ichigo moans loudly as he's entered, a cross between pain and pleasure as he's filled, and Grimmjow doesn't wait for him to adjust before he's moving.
"Ah!" Ichigo cries out. "F-fuck… mm… G-Grimmjow!"
His thrusts are hard and quick, the other making certain to keep his partner in a haze of euphoria while he takes what pleasure he needs. Hands reach and pull at blue hair before they drop to the sheets, gripping tight as Ichigo's body is inched up the mattress. The bedframe is groaning and creaking in protest at the pace, joining the screams and moans that fill the room.
"That's right, scream for me," Grimmjow murmurs in delight.
He picks up his pace, hammering into the smaller body beneath him with abandon. Amber eyes gaze up at him, half-mast and clouded with desire. That look alone has him close to his release, yet he won't cum until his partner does. One hand releases its bruising grip on Ichigo's hip, reaching instead to pump his straining erection. It doesn't take long, Ichigo shuddering as he gasps. He coats their stomachs as his back arches, the sight of him so wanton enough to draw out Grimmjow's own pleasure. He practically purrs as he slams into the tightening entrance, thrusting hard and holding himself as deep as possible as he spills his seed into the compliant body beneath him. They pant in exertion as they calm, Grimmjow pulling out and holding the other close. He reaches over the edge of the bed to grab Ichigo's boxers, cleaning them off before getting comfortable. The orangette knows this is a one-time thing, yet he can't help but feel a sense of loss at that thought before falling asleep.
Whoo-hoo! *cheers* How's that for an ending? I ROCK! XD Anyway, moving on ;p I'd like to put out there that Ichigo and Grimmjow aren't serious at the moment and Ichigo still has a boyfriend he cares deeply about. I'd also like to state that Ichigo was the seme in that relationship =)
Ichi: GO ME! XD
Grimm: ... How could you? That's just... wrong! *jawdrop*
Ichi: *dancing in victory* I'm the seme! I get to be the seme! I'm not the uke!
Grimm: ... I must correct this travesty! ICHI, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE SO I CAN MOLEST YOU! DX
Vae: I love making waves! =3