A scowl settled into place, brown eyes narrowing and he took a breath, readying himself for the hard words.
"What?" the word was almost whipped out in irritation, a long breath taken after, the puff of sweet smoke tickling from pursed lips. "Hurry up kid, I don't have all fuckin' day."
Orange hair fell forward as he bent his head, hands clenching into fists. "I-I-"
"Isn't your dad waiting for you?"
A glance toward the Kurosaki's family home proved it to be the case, the tall dark haired man leaning against his packed car, waiting for his eldest child to finish his good-byes.
"Shut up," Ichigo demanded as chocolate brown eyes finally met aquamarine ones. "I-just let me finish."
A snort and shrug was the only encouragement.
"I-Grimmjow, I love you," the words were almost whispered out despite how loudly he had been talking moments before.
"What?" the blue haired man asked, straining for patience.
"I love you!" came the cry, fierce eyes staring back at him. "I said I love you and I'm not going to stop loving you. I will come back to be with you!"
There was a silence as the boy waited for the reply.
A chuckle began in the back of the man's throat, low and deep and he straightened before walking off. "Call me when you grow some boobs."
Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez gave a moan as he opened the front door, almost stumbling through. Work had been hard as well as fucking boring and he was glad to be home. Shoes were off the moment he entered, as well as the navy blue tie and the crisp white shirt was unbuttoned.
Flicking through some bills, Grimmjow absently picked up the shrilling phone.
"Hello," the masculine voice sounded on the other end of the phone, a little deep and husky from a strange emotion. "It's me, Ichigo Kurosaki."
There was a pause before a feral grin broke free. So the little orange haired guy has finally decided to call hey? "Ichigo Kurosaki huh? So what, you finally got yourself some boobs?"
The question was only given a small grunt in reply before he continued on with, "Did you sleep with Rukia Kuchiki?"
Grimmjow paused, shifting the phone to rest on his shoulder while he opened a letter. The name sounded familiar… Then he remembered. "Oh yeah, that tiny, black haired chick? Yeah, we fucked." Another pause. "Why, you jealous?"
There was a snarl, something vicious and completely foreign to the Ichigo Kurosaki he knew. Grimmjow chuckled as his eyes ran over the contents of the water bill. "Unbelievable berry, it's been eight fuckin' years and you're still not over me. I mean, I know I'm a catch and everything…" he trailed off, waiting for the expected snappy answer. He frowned when he received none, pulling the phone away from his ear to stare at it for a moment before bringing it back. "Hello? Hey, berry, what's going on?"
Still no reply and now he was pissed. Did the kid hang up on him? Hanging the white phone in its cradle, he walked into the kitchen. He'll call back, he thought to himself, pulling out a can of cola from the fridge, the satisfying pop and hiss of the can filling the silence. He probably didn't mean to hang up.
Grimmjow chuckled to himself as he thought of the orange headed boy. He must have grown by now. He'd be… what, like eighteen, nineteen? Taking a sip of the cool beverage, he shook his head. Eight years… He was of course flattered that he had inspired such devotion but it was pretty sad and a little funny in truth. The kid had been living nearby his house for ages and suddenly the family decided to move. Little Ichigo then decided to confess his long love for him.
Grimmjow hadn't been (and still wasn't) gay of course, and even if he was, he wouldn't have lowered himself so far as to do it with a kid. But there was something sort of endearing about the whole thing, though he wouldn't tell Ichigo that.
Frowning again, Grimmjow leant back against his sink. Ichigo hadn't called back yet. Was his phone not working? Or had he actually meant to hang up on him? Barking out a laugh, Grimmjow pushed it out of his mind, going about making himself dinner but an hour later he found he had reached his limit, beyond pissed at the kid.
Snatching the phone up he hastily redialled the number, waiting impatiently for the reply.
"Yes?" the voice was distinctly feminine, a little shaky but familiar.
Rukia hey… "Yes, hello?"
There was a pause as Ichigo's voice travelled across the line from somewhere in the room. "Rukia, put down the damn phone, we haven't finished talking about this."
"There is nothing to talk about. You've obviously made up your mind," Rukia replied, her voice getting further away as Grimmjow heard her hand over the phone. "I guess I'll see you later when you've calmed down. Bye, I love you."
There was a loud sigh and the clacking of a closing door before there was breathing into the phone and a reluctant, "Yes?"
"Ichigo? It's Grimmjow. I was wondering what was up. You hung up on me." There was a laugh. "Did your phone cut off or something?"
"No, I hung up," came the short reply. "And I'm hanging up again. I have some things going on. Later."
There was the sound of the phone being placed down then silence.
Grimmjow blinked, staring into the phone before throwing it down on the small arm chair that sat in his long hallway. That little brat had actually hung up on him!
Shrugging a little to himself, he stomped upstairs. Who cared about the little thug? He certainly didn't. So he and that miniscule, raven haired bitch were together then… Didn't he say he would love him forever?
Grimmjow barked out a laugh at the shallow promise. The kid was actually over him?
Laying onto his double bed he heaved out a sigh. Well, that was fine wasn't it? It was better for him and better for the kid. So why did it bother him?
Turning onto his side, he convinced himself to forget about it. The berry was old news.
Days had gone by and Grimmjow had not called the orange haired child again. He wasn't going to be the one to give in. If the kid still wanted him, he'd call and then… what? He'd… do what exactly? It wasn't as if he wanted the kid, in fact if anything, he'd probably just tease him if he came back to him. But still…
Grimmjow downed another shot, reaching out once again to grasp one more shot glass.
He leaned back as he quickly finished that one as well.
"Are you quite certain that having anymore is a good idea?" the cool voice of Ulquiorra Schiffer breaking through his thoughts.
He flashed a sneer at the raven haired man, as he reached for another. "I think I can handle it Qui."
Ulquiorra's expression did not change, despite the fact that Grimmjow knew how much he hated that nickname. "If you say so. I don't really care what you do to your body anyway."
Grimmjow laughed humourlessly. "What are best friends for hey?"
Grimmjow turned a little to the long, red head addressing them.
Orihime Inoue wrung her hands nervously around the strap of her black bag, pulling at the strap on her tight black dress uncomfortably.
"Orihime," Ulquiorra gave the slightest hint of a smile, looking a little relieved at her appearance. "I had begun to worry."
"Sorry," she muttered, seating herself next to him, one long fingered hand reaching to clasp his.
Grimmjow pretended to gag as he bent his head back, taking the small glass of liquid. Then he had a thought. Orihime and Ichigo were friends and now her and Ulquiorra were dating…
"Are you still friends with Ichigo Kurosaki?" Grimmjow asked, leaning forward a little.
The question seemed to take her by surprise but she nodded.
"Uh-huh. We talk quite often. He's back in town now, did you know that?" Orihime practically bounced at the idea, grasping onto Ulquiorra a little harder.
A glance at the man revealed he didn't quite appreciate her enthusiasm.
Orihime also seemed to notice this and gave one of her embarrassed smiles. "Sorry, I got a little carried away. It's just Ichigo and I have been friends forever."
Grimmjow leaned back again, considering. "What's he doing with himself lately?"
"Why the sudden interest Grimmjow? Want to see if I have boobs or not?"
A feral grin spread across Grimmjow's face at the voice, beginning to turn, stopping short when his eyes fell onto the boy.
Well, boy wasn't really applicable anymore. No, he was definitely a man.
He was tall now with legs encased in ripped, grey skinny leg jeans that seemed to go on forever. He looked stronger and broader, his silky muscles wrapped in a black, long sleeved shirt that fell off caramel shoulders. Chocolate brown depths simmered and orange hair, ending just past his ears, stubbornly stuck up, continually defying gravity. "Sorry, but there are no breasts here."